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bonniepop · 21 days

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title: of rumors & wrong assumptions parts: 1 / 2 / 3 character: iwaizumi hajime words: 1,800+ warnings: more violence towards oikawa's person. notes: i totally forgot to fill this up lmao

—

the following days at school were hell.

well, not really. but they felt like it.

“he keeps glaring at me,” you whimper, sitting across oikawa, trying to hide yourself by curling inward and having him shield you.

you were both hunched over your shared library desk, completing your partner lab report on your iodine clock experiment, two tables away from iwaizumi’s as his class settled on the other side of the library. oikawa had mentioned that they were working on their research for english.

truth be told, iwaizumi had been glaring at you since last week whenever you were with your lab partner in any capacity. whether you returned a greeting, asked a question, passed by him in the hallway, or simply just as looked in oikawa’s direction, iwaizumi’s glare was soon to follow. it was hard to miss the way his eyeballs practically singed the back of your skull in their endeavor.

“who?” oikawa looks over his shoulder. “oh, he’s not glaring. that’s just his normal face.” he wiggles his fingers at his best friend, who is clearly unamused.

"you mean looking like he wants to kill me is normal?"

oikawa turns back to you. "i think the crease in between his eyebrows is genetic; his dad has it, too. but it looks good on him, doesn't it?"

gay, the voice in your head pipes up. instead of responding, iwaizumi simply narrows his eyes at oikawa for a second before looking back down at his own notes and proceeding with his work.

“so when he looks like he wants to kill me, that��s normal?” you ask, picking up the experiment manual and dragging it closer.

“yeah, but don’t take it personally.” oikawa smiles. “he looks at me that way all the time!” he returns to your work, peering over the experiment manual and copying the text unto a sheet of paper.

“you have really nice handwriting,” you comment after a few beats of silence, watching him neatly loop and cross and curve his characters.

“thanks,” he says with a smile. “when i was in middle school, my mom made it a point to train me and my sister in penmanship.”

“sounds like torture.”

“helps with volleyball,” he shrugs. “steady hands and all that.”

“you sound like you're making this up.”

"why on earth would i do that?" the volleyball player rolls his eyes. "anyway, real or no, it’s better than that thing you call handwriting,” he disparages, shooting your notes a pointed look. "what's worse than chicken scratch?"

“hey!” you snap, bundling your notes in your arms. “it is not that bad, and also, mind your own business. i make decent grades with this chicken scratch, you know!”

“i’m surprised our teachers can even read that.”

“oh, fuck off,” you say, giving him the finger.

he laughs and changes the subject. “anyway, did you hear?” he leans in closer, raising an eyebrow. “people think we’re dating.”

you flush, but you can’t help the look of disgust that mars your features. “i know. it’s so gross.”

the teasing expression on his face falls and he straightens. “hey!” he cries, and some students around you turn their heads to look. “i’ll have you know that i am prime real estate!”

“shut up,” you hiss, yanking him down to divert attention. “first of all, you're not my type. second of all, you play volleyball, not baseball. baseball is clearly superior!"

"says you! i'd rather shine in a sport thanks to my sheer physical prowess, not because i'm good at hitting balls with sticks."

you shake your head. "you know, girls don’t like it when the guy’s ego is as big as the moon.”

“i’m just being honest,” he defends. “volleyball is the superior sport."

"i read somewhere that volleyball is just an extreme version of don't let the balloon touch the floor."

"then baseball is just hitting a piñata that's a moving target.”

“a more impressive set of conditions.”

“we're going nowhere," oikawa declares, waving the conversation away. what is your type, then?”

“not you,” you answer with a straight face.

“be serious!” he leans in conspiratorially. “i bet i know who your type is.”

you roll your eyes. “sure you do.”

he smirks. “it’s iwa-chan, isn’t it?”

your heart thunders in your chest and your belly flip flips around. “maybe,” you say, trying to play it cool. “or hanamaki. or matsukawa. anyone but you, really.”

he gapes then huffs, offended. he folds his arms over his chest. “you’re just saying that to get a rise out of me, and i won't fall for it.”

“i like guys who at least pretend to be humble about being good-looking.”

that makes him smirk. “so you think i’m good-looking?” he says a little louder, and you take your manual and smack his arm when you notice the students around you obviously trying to eavesdrop. “ow!”

“shut the fuck up,” you hiss.

oikawa scoffs as he rubs his arm, and you can feel the heat of iwaizumi’s familiar glare on the side of your head

you chew on your bottom lip. “how’d you know, by the way?”

“know what? that iwa-chan was your type?”

“no,” you insist, intent on changing the subject, because the embarrassment that you might’ve been obvious would’ve killed you. “that people think we’re—eugh—dating.”

he frowns. “hey. i’m not that bad a boyfriend.”

“didn’t your last girlfriend dump you?”

“i don't see why that's relevant,” he says stiffly, ignoring your jibe. “anyway, some of the lower year girls asked me if it was true,” he says, uncrossing his arms and pondering.

“oh my god, it spread.” you run a hand over your face. “what did you tell them?”

“i didn’t get a chance to answer. iwa-chan hit me in the head with a volleyball before i could.”

“what?” you nearly slam your hands on the table. “so people actually think we’re dating? why didn’t you answer?!”

“because they were bothering us during practice,” iwaizumi answers, suddenly standing next to your table, and you nearly launch yourself out of your seat in shock.

“iwa-chan!” oikawa greets, motioning for him to sit. the chair scrapes against the floor as the vice captain of the volleyball team takes a seat next to you, of all places. “have you met my lab partner?”

you’re too terrified and nervous to speak, but iwaizumi answers for you. “yeah," he grunts in agreement, then grunts out your name. “you’re a friend of tomo’s.”

you nod, words delayed. “yep. i’m a friend of tomo’s.”

“oooh, common friends,” oikawa teases, then jerks and smacks his knee beneath the table. people swivel their heads and chortle when they find the volleyball captain rubbing his leg beneath the desk, face scrunched up in pain. “ow! don’t hit me!”

“don’t be stupid,” iwaizumi grunts. he props his research materials on the table opens his notebook, silently getting to work.

you tap oikawa’s wrist with the pen in your hand as soon as his tears subside. “hey, keep writing!”

“would it kill you to say ‘please’?” he grumbles, pulling the report close and continuing. you work in relative silence, dictating notes for him to include in the report and answering any questions about values and measurements.

you completely forget that iwaizumi's even there, until he sighs and puts down his pen. he cracks his neck and stretches.

“you okay, iwa-chan?” oikawa asks.

“yeah,” he responds, voice low and raspy and it sounds so good that you bite back a whimper. “english is hard.”

you purse your lips in thought. would it be presumptuous of you to help? but maybe you could be useful, and if he really needed help… it might also make him like you more, and lessen all the glaring whenever you were within five feet of his best friend…

“um, can i see?” you decide to ask, and with a nod he slides his notes over to you. “what’s this?”

“translation,” iwaizumi responds gruffly. “can’t figure out what this word means in this sentence. doesn’t it mean the direction, as in 'turn left'?”

after a few scans, you nod, finally understanding. “ah, yes, but here,, ‘left’ is the past tense of ‘leave.’ like, when someone forgets something or leaves something behind.” with your pen, you point out words. "see here? 'she left her phone.'"

iwaizumi looks sort of scandalized. “what?”

“yeah, here, look—”

unbeknownst to you, oikawa’s watching as you explain it, taking in the way his friend leans forward and the extra attention he’s devoting to you as you speak.

iwaizumi shakes his head. “so ‘left’ means the direction," he motions with his hand, "but also the past tense of 'leave'?” he flips back on his notes. "past tense, past tense... ah, verbs that have already happened?"

“yeah,” you explain. “most english words have their past tenses end in 'd', but irregular verbs—like this one here—they don't follow that rule.”

the captain lights up. “you speak english? you’re not in the english class.”

“um, yeah.” you blush, pulling back and straightening. “my, uh, my grandparents lived in america for a time, so i kinda learned from them.”

a disturbing smile spreads across oikawa's face. “fascinating," he says, sounding not unlike a snake with a plan. "maybe you can help iwa-chan here,” he says with that weird, slimy smile, reaching across the table to pat his friend’s arm. “he’s studying to take a the college entrance exams in the states! he’s not that smart at english, so you should help him!”

said friend was looking at the hand with disgust, which made your lip twitch. “don’t touch me,” he spits.

“aww, iwa, it’s okay. she knows you can be nice to me! you don’t have to hide your true self.” oikawa suddenly jumps away in fear when the wing spiker flexes for a punch, and you hide your snort behind your hands.

oikawa whimpers, pathetically collecting the papers in front of him. “you two are mean! you deserve each other.”

iwaizumi flushes and glares. “hey. don’t be like that.” he turns to you. “sorry, he’s really inconsiderate about people’s feelings.”

you blink in surprise and raise your hands up in surrender. “no, it’s okay! no, ah, no feelings hurt here. he’s been annoying me all afternoon, so. yeah.”

confusion makes itself known on iwaizumi's face. “annoying you? aren’t you… you know... um—”

your belly twists unpleasantly, and you force a laugh to hide your embarrassment. “oh, the, uh. the rumor.” you shake your head. “no, we’re not… that.”

when the laugh isn’t returned, you blush and clear your throat, looking down at your chicken scratch in embarrassment.

"oh. but i thought..." he trails off, and you shake your head without looking at him.

a few seconds later, he clears his throat to cut the awkward silence. "okawa, may i speak to you for a moment?” iwaizumi goes, already getting up.

oikawa's tongue is poking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on his notes. “wait, i'll just finish—”

“now,” iwaizumi bites out, grabbing his captain by the collar. he looks at you and bows. “give us one second.”

your lab partner is dragged away, and you can hear the mumbles of the students around you. you slump over in your seat. not again.

#iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #x reader fluff #x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader fluff #hq fluff #hq fanfic #hq x reader #📝 — my writing #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

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midmourn · 8 months

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happier

title happier

pairing park jisung x gender neutral!reader

summary you know you're being selfish— but you hope she doesn't make jisung as happy as you did.

warnings angst, post break up

word count 1,412

author's note jisung is not an asshole in this dw i could never see him like that LMAO. as usual, let me know what you think bc it encourages me to continue writing!! reposting from my old blog.

"Jisung has a girlfriend," Jaemin fumbles with a stray string from his cardigan, looking at you from the corner of his eyes to gauge your reaction. You pause mid-bite, grip around your fork tightening before you relaxed your expression, slowly nodding. "Her name's Minji."

"Good for him," you mumble through a mouthful of food as your foot starts tapping on the tile. Minji as in Lee Minji? The girl in his dance class? You hope your eyes don't tell Jaemin anything, the last thing you wanted to talk about right now was your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. You press your lips together, no longer feeling hungry and set your fork down, "Do you want the rest of my food?" When he shakes his head, you sigh and nod, closing the box up so you can eat it later.

Jaemin opens his mouth before closing it as the two of you notice your friends walking over to the lunch table and stands up, "Alright, I'm going to sit with the guys, then ..."

"Bye, Jaemin," you send him a smile as Ningning replaces him and you turn to her, "Hey, how was the test in chem?" You ignore Jaemin's sigh before he walks away to another table, eyes slowly darting away from Ningning's as she rambles about the chemistry test. You follow him with your eyes, mouth twisting to the side as you spot the only girl at the table full of boys. Jisung's sitting beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as he slowly eats his food while she talks beside him, occasionally nodding. You refrain from huffing and scowling, you didn't want your friends noticing.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You tear your eyes away from them, turning to Ningning who looks at you curiously.

"You good?"

"Just fine," you smile, patting her arm before turning and tuning into the conversation between Yeojin and Taehyun.

"She's so pretty," you mumble into your pillow, head face down as your mother rubs your back comfortingly. "And I know she's sweet, we were lab partners last year ..." Unlike after your break up, you haven't cried at all since you found out they got together. You consider that an accomplishment.

Your mother sighs, "At least you know he'll be happy, Y/N."

You don't tell her that you hope he isn't.

After your mother leaves your room, you flip onto your stomach to look at the ceiling where you have bright glow-in-the-dark stars stuck there. A sigh leaves your mouth, blinking as you remember that Jisung was the one who helped you put them up there. He didn't make fun of you for the fact that you wanted them up there.

"I think I accidentally made those ones look like a constellation," you followed with your eyes to where Jisung's pointing and raised your eyebrows.

"What constellation?"

"I have no idea, but they definitely look like one."

You laughed, "Do me a favor, don't major in astronomy when we go to college."

Jisung chuckled, "Hey, I could be an expert in astronomy before we get to college, alright? You don't know that." He turned on his side, but you don't look at him until his hand rested on your cheek. You met his eyes, blinking curiously at him and he smiled slightly— you were close enough that you could see his eyes and smile clearly. "You know, you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Oh, yeah? What about Taeyeon? IU?" You snort, rolling your eyes at his cheesiness. "Ooh, Taecyeon? He's pretty hot."

"They're pretty, and hot," he shrugged as best as he could, still smiling, "But you're still the most beautiful."

Your cheeks burned hot and you just hoped he couldn't see that well in the dark as you turned your head back to the ceiling, "OK, cheesy. Next topic."

Jisung laughed, knowing exactly what was going on and pressed a kiss to your cheek, resting his head on your shoulder. He let the two of you be in silence for a few minutes before he said softly, "Y/N?" You hummed out a response, and he continued, "We're gonna be together forever, you know that?"

You don't respond for a moment, and he briefly wondered if you fell asleep on accident, but you exhale and say, "I hope so."

Bullshit, you roll your eyes. Love was a bunch of bullshit, and you can't believe you even believed for a while that you two would stay together forever. You force yourself into a sitting position and grab your phone, going on Instagram to find Minji's account. She hasn't updated in about a month, but she has enough posts.

She is pretty, as much as you want to deny it. She's kind, as much as you want to deny that, too. You wish she was a horrible person and tricked Jisung into liking her, but you can't blame him for liking her. She volunteers as much as she can, and she helps around her house with chores and babysitting her younger siblings, and works with no pay at her family's restaurant.

Park Jisung deserves someone like her.

You toss your phone on your bed, pressing the palms of your hands against your eyes as you slump against your wall. You want to cry, you want to scream and toss things at your wall and wreck everything in sight. But your mind overtakes your heart, and you know it's not a good idea. You love Jisung with all your heart, and you really do hope he is happy. It's what he deserves. But you thought he was happy with you, and look where that ended.

No one made you as happy as Jisung did, and you're not even sure if you would ever find someone like him again. As selfish as it sounds, you hope it's the same for him.

You blink and lean forward to grab your phone, clicking on Jisung's messages. You never deleted them after your break up, the last few ones being about picking his things up from your house that he had left when you two were dating. You force yourself not to read through them, and start typing.

YOU: hey, i heard about you and minji, she's a great girl. i really hope you two are happy~ :D

You hesitate before you press send, staring down at your phone. Was this a good idea? Would he tell her and then she turns into a jealous monster and comes after you? Your brows furrow before sighing, going to click on the text to delete it but your stupid-fucking-thumb accidentally touched the send button. You gasp, eyes widening at your luck before you clicked out of the message and actually throw your phone across the room.

"God," you groan, closing your eyes as you leaned back and hit your head on the wall. It hurt like a fucking bitch, but you figured you deserved it. Out of everything that had to happen, your thumb just had to accidentally hit send. Someone, whoever is up there, must really hate you. Your heart pounds in your chest, worry setting in. What if he confronted you at school tomorrow, saying you were out of line for talking to him? What if he or her took your message the wrong way?

Sure, you might be selfish and hope he wasn't as happy as he was with you but— you weren't a homewrecker. If you two were meant to be together, like you once thought, you'd end up together, right? Your stomach twists and you huff, clenching your fist to ignore the stomach ache.

Your phone dings from its place on the floor and your eyes shoot open, staring up at the ceiling and the stupid stars. You hastily sit up and grab your phone, breath hitching as you see the notification. Jisung responded back.

JISUNG: hey, y/n, thank you so much. i hope you're happy too.

A second later, another message comes in.

JISUNG: we didn't really talk about it before but we never ended on an actual bad note ... we're still friends, right?

You exhale, closing your eyes as you sit down, legs feeling wobbly. Would your regret this? Probably. Your eyes open as you make up your mind and smile sadly down at your phone, feeling the back of your eyes sting harshly.

YOU: of course, jisung. we were friends first before everything. see you at school tomorrow.

sour series masterlist. masterlist. rules.

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summerwritesfics · 2 years

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⛓️Father, Did You Miss Me?

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 2496 Words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings: Supernatural/Modern AU, Priest!Kuai Liang, Demon!Hanzo Hasashi, Priest Kink, Deepthroating, Prostate Massage, Crying, Cathoclicism, Confessional, Catholic Imagery, Catholicism but make it sexy, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Coming Untouched, Size Difference Kinktober Day 10: Priest Kink + Deepthroating + Prostate Massage + Crying

Kinktober Masterlist

Notes: I’ve had this ongoing little AU in my head for a few years that I think I’ve posted snippet to my WIP tag on tumblr, but basically it’s an AU where Kuai is a priest, and Hanzo is a demon lord who asks Kuai for sex in exchange for his help hunting down and wrangling escaped demons. Of course, it doen’t stay just sex and they fall in 💕love💕 Because this is me lol. This basically belongs to that AU and maybe one day I’ll actually finish my WIP’s and do more with it lol Hanzo calling Kuai “Father” is the closest I’ll ever get to writing daddy kink lmao Again sorry if this isn’t at my usual standard, I’ve had an awful day. Nothing extremely wild or interesting, just bad. But y’know what they say about us AO3 Authors, we could be on our deathbed and still be posting. 🙃 Title is from “Going To Hell” by The Pretty Reckless.

“Father, did you miss me?”

Hanzo enjoyed the sigh from the other side of the confessional booth.

“Good evening Lord Hasashi,” Kuai Liang softly spoke through the grating. “Forgive me for being so upfront but may I ask why you’re here? I highly doubt your intending to confess your sins, given you are already a Lord of Hell.”

Hanzo chuckled, “Alway’s to the point, Father Song.” Hanzo listened to the man on the other side of the wooden box. There was a rustle but nothing more. “We have a deal, Father, I hope you have not forgotten that.”

Kuai made a confused noise, before saying, “no, I haven’t but forgive me Lord Hasashi I do not seem to recall being in your debt currently.”

“You aren’t,” Hanzo assured him, leaning back and inspecting his claws. “It has merely been a while since our last meeting, and I wanted to be assured that you remember our agreement.”

“You are surprisingly needy for a Demon Lord, you do know that?” Kuai sighed again as Hanzo laughed.

He wasn’t needy, not really, but he did find himself enjoying Kuai’s company and did rather miss him when they did not see each other for a while. Sometimes, demons escaped Hell so often it meant they spent weeks together. But times like this, when everyone seemed to actually want to behave? Well, Hanzo guessed he should be thankful he didn’t have to do much more extra work, but instead he found himself bitter that he didn’t get to see his favourite priest as much as he’d like.

He watched as Kuai’s shadow moved behind the shutter, he heard a door open and the shadow was gone. Seconds later the door of his booth came open and Kuai stood on the other side, with a hand on his hip and looking as gorgeous as ever. Hanzo always did have a thing for the holy, but Kuai Liang was something else.

“What exactly do you want for assurance?” Kuai asked, holding out his hand to help Hanzo to his feet. Hanzo didn’t need it, and given their size difference, it wouldn’t effect much, but he appreciated the gesture.

“Well,” Hanzo purred as he took Kuai’s hand and stood up. Once standing, he placed his hand on Kuai’s cheek and pushed his thumb against Kuai’s lips. “I had a few ideas.”

“You’re in luck, I am about to retire from my duties for the night,” Kuai claimed, raising an eyebrow. “But I get the feeling you already knew that.” Kuai pulled away and crossed his arms. “Just how long exactly have you been waiting for me to finish, Lord Hasashi?”

“Roughly 40 minutes,” Hanzo replied as he saw Kuai’s eyes rolls. He turned away and began to walk back into the centre of the church, Hanzo following behind like a lost puppy. “Forgive me Father, I just enjoy watching you dole out God’s will.” Even with Kuai’s back to him, Hanzo could imagine the frown on his face from the knowledge someone was listening in. “Although, that woman having an affair with her gardener-“

“Lord Hasashi, I do hope you aren’t trying to get me to break my vows and gossip with you about the members of this church.” He looked over his shoulder slightly, just as they got to the door to the private back of the church. “We may have arrangements, but I still have my duty.”

“Very well,” Hanzo replied, watching Kuai open the door before they both made it inside. “But hypothetically if you didn’t have your duty, would you say her husband really was having an affair first?”

“Oh absolutely,” Kuai said without hesitation. “With her sister.” Kuai turned around with a weirdly gleeful smile on his face. “And the sister’s pregnant, and wishes to keep the child.”

Hanzo blinked a few times. “Right well, once I’m done fucking your brain’s out you are going to have to tell me that full story.”

Kuai gave a small cheeky smile. For as much as Kuai liked to pretend he was above such things, Hanzo definitely got the juiciest stories of mortal sins from him. Maybe in some way, it was a form of release. It must be hard to have to listen to everything someone’s done to harm others all day.

Hanzo looked around the room. It was about as plain as it always was, Kuai really was not one for material possessions. Something about that upset Hanzo sometimes, if only because Kuai deserved far more than he allowed himself to have. Kuai’s selflessness was admirable, but Hanzo worried it might turn out to be his downfall.

One day, Hanzo would convince Kuai Liang to forgo his faith, and whisk him down to hell, where Hanzo could spoil him for all eternity.

He knew that wouldn’t happen any time soon however, but Hanzo was a patient demon. He could wait as long as it took.

Kuai sat on the edge of the bed, putting his hands on his lap and tilting his head.

“So, Lord Hasashi, how exactly do you want me?” He asked innocently, smiling softly like he was about to sing a sweet hymn rather than do sinful things with a demon.

I want you in so many ways, Hanzo thought the words he could never say aloud. In those fantasies where he took Kuai away, he thought so long about all the ways he wanted Kuai. But he couldn’t do them all right now.

“On your back, head off the bed, clothes on,” Hanzo ordered. As much as he loved Kuai naked, there was something he liked about doing things while Kuai was still in his robes. There was something so blasphemous about it, and while Hanzo really had no qualms with Kuai’s God, the influence of the underworld made him delight in the way he perverted it.

“As you wish.” Kuai swung his legs around onto the bed, and he scooted himself into the centre of the bed. As he went to lie down, he made sure his head hung off the side, his hands gripping onto his sheets in anticipation.

Hanzo approached, gripping his belt and waiting until he was in front of Kuai’s face to pull it away. He dropped his trousers enough for his cock to be revealed. He always enjoyed the way Kuai swallowed thickly whenever he saw it. His breathing quickened, and he opened his mouth wide in preparation. Hanzo brought his cock towards those lips and started to push in.

Kuai’s lips clamped around his cock, and Hanzo felt his tongue circle the head of his cock. Continuing forward, Hanzo pushed in slowly so not to overwhelm Kuai and make him gag. As much as he loved to have Kuai screaming, he preferred it to be from pleasure than pain. He never wanted to do anything to hurt him.

His cock hit the back of his mouth, only three quarters of the way in. He did pull back, before feeding himself back in, this time going a little further. Kuai did gag a little, causing Hanzo to pause and let him get used to it.

“Easy, Father,” Hanzo soothed, reaching down to stroke Kuai’s throat. “Just relax for me.”

Kuai gurgled in agreement, and Hanzo watched as his grip on the sheets increased. Hanzo attempted to go further. Keeping his hand on his throat, the deeper he went, the more he started to feel his cock bulging out from under Kuai’s skin. He removed the hand to admire it. It was always impressive just how much Kuai could take.

“You’re doing so well,” Hanzo whispered, as he made a final push to get his entire length inside. He could see Kuai’s hands clenching. “Sh, almost there, just a little more.” And with that, his entire cock was inside, and he could make out the outline. “There we are. Perfect. You take me so wonderfully.”

Kuai purred again, swallowing around Hanzo’s cock. Hanzo began to pull back, watching the bulge travel with it. He only pulled out until he was at the end of Kuai’s throat before testing the water with a hard thrust. Kuai’s body jolted, brighting his legs up at the knees, but otherwise didn’t react. He gave another thrust, seeing if that would be better. This time Kuai did not react, letting his legs drop flat again, although his hands still clenched at the sheets.

He brought his hand back against Kuai’s throat, pushing down slightly as he began to thrust in a slow but hard rhythm. He loved being able to feel the way Kuai’s body yielded to him. Regardless of it was Kuai’s throat or his stomach, he loved being able to see himself inside his beloved priest.

“You are so perfect,” Hanzo growled between his thrusts. “I just adore you.” He pulled his hands away, and just watched. “You are wasted on your God.” Kuai groaned around his cock, cut off when Hanzo pushed in as far as he could go. “So pretty, so good for me. Too good for these sinful heathens.”

He gave one last hard thrust, before he felt himself released right down Kuai’s throat. He could feel Kuai swallowing, and after a few more thrusts to make sure he was done, Hanzo finally pulled out. As he did, saliva pooled out of Kuai’s mouth, dripping down his face. It was enough for Hanzo to almost miss the tears in Kuai’s eyes.

Almost.

“Oh, Snowflake,” Hanzo whispered, reaching for Kuai’s torso to bring him up. “I’m sorry, are you hurt?” Kuai panted heavily, choosing to shake his head in reply. “You are crying.”

As Hanzo brought his hand to Kuai’s face, wiping away a tear that was rolling down his cheek, he replied with “O-Overwhelmed.”

“Why did you not try to stop me?” Hanzo questioned. He understood that verbally Kuai was incapable, but if he’d brought a hand up and tried to push Hanzo away he’d have gotten the message.

Kuai coughed a few times, bringing his hand up to try and wipe away his spit and tears. “G-Good overwhelmed.”

Ah. That made Hanzo feel better. He trusted that Kuai would have told him if it wasn’t good for him. Hanzo brushed his hair out of his face.

“My poor, sweet father.” He pushed Kuai to lay down on the bed with one hand, reaching across for a vial of oil. “I have been so selfish.” He grabbed onto Kuai’s trousers, roughly pulling them down and causing a short “eep” to escape Kuai’s lips. “Allow me to make it up to you.”

He poured the oil onto one of his fingers, taking no time to begin pushing it into his hole. Kuai gasped, squirming slightly and Hanzo pressed his other hand against his chest to still him. He began to feel around with that single digit, not stopping until it brushed against a spot that had Kuai gasping.

He chuckled, removing his hand to pour oil onto his second finger before letting it slip inside Kuai too. He immediately went back to that spot, pushing down and watching the way Kuai shuddered. He adjusted himself so he was majority towering above Kuai. He continued to press against that spot, rubbing around in circles and watching more tears gathering in Kuai’s eyes.

“Is that nice?” He asked, pressing down particularly hard and watching the way Kuai’s hard cock twitched against his stomach. He chuckled and said, “Good.”

“M-My Lord,” Kuai spluttered, bringing his hands up to Hanzo’s shoulders. He continued to move his fingers in circles, watching as Kuai’s back arched off the bed and Hanzo felt fingernails dig into his shoulders. “A-Ah, Please.”

“You always get so overwhelmed by pleasure, don’t you?” Hanzo lent down to kiss Kuai deeply. As he did, he paused his movements. “For all your church loves to talk of sin, the only truly sinful thing is that this has been denied from you for so long.”

“I- ah-“ Kuai shuddered again, his eyes screwing shut. “I knew t-that would be a sacrifice I’d have to make.”

“You give up so much of yourself for people who do not truly care for you.” Kuai looked liked he was about to argue against that, but Hanzo stopped him with another kiss. As he pulled back he said, “the second I asked for you as my payment, your church threw you at me like a lamb to a pack of wolves.” Granted, Hanzo was ever thankful for them doing so, but that didn’t excuse the potential danger they could have put Kuai into. “Your God cares for you, I can tell, I can feel his holy energy protect you. But they do not. For all they knew I could have done anything to you.”

“But you didn’t,” Kuai argued. He trailed his hand up to Hanzo’s face, stroking his cheek. “And I have faith that my Church and God knew you would not harm me.”

“You are so naïve, Father Song.” It wasn’t Kuai’s fault. Hanzo had no doubt that Kuai was favoured by his god, but he doubted his church cared for him as much. Kuai was lucky it was Hanzo whom the church made a deal with, and not some other demon lord. He could imagine with more than a few who would not have been as kind or gentle with him. They would have torn Kuai apart, and taken everything from him regardless of what he wanted.

“Maybe,” Kuai whispered, a faint smile on his lips. “But is that not part of why you love me?”

Hanzo didn’t reply, just pressed his fingers down in a way that made Kuai buck, and second’s later, he came. It squirted up onto his robes, the pearly white standing out against the black fabric. Kuai lay panting on the bed, looking up as Hanzo as if he were the entire world.

And Hanzo did love him. Truly. Even if he feared ever admitting it aloud. He had too many enemies, too many people who would use his attachment against him. He vowed Kuai would always be safe with him, he could not allow anyone to harm him.

“So, are you sated Lord Hasashi,” Kuai purred, in a tone so sultry it was hard to believe it was coming from a holy man. “Or do you require more assurance?”

“I may do,” Hanzo answered with a grin. “It may take me all night.”

“So long as I get a chance to rest every once in a while,” Kuai began, letting his body go loose and spreading himself open, “my body is yours for as long as you require it.”

Hanzo let out a growl, he could feel that he’d gotten hard again. He lent down to capture Kuai in a passionate kiss, lining himself up with the priests entrance, swallowing his moan as he began to push inside.

It would definitely take a few more times for him to be satisfied.

#mortal kombat #subscorp #kuai liang #sub zero #hanzo hasashi #scorpion #⛓️kinktober 2022

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mnoaeiu · 3 years

Text

“challenge.”

pairing: streamer!childe x gn!reader

tags: streamer au, modern au, use of pet names (baby and babe), fluff, establised relationship

notes: im sorry for the different formats i use on my fics lmao i want to experiment. lowercase intended! not proofread :(

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you knocked on the door before coming in as childe was setting up his camera for his stream. he has a scheduled stream today so he has to be with his computer for hours.

“hey baby,” you said while approaching him on his gaming chair.

“hey, what's up?” he asked, eyes focusing on his appearance on the camera. he tried to flatten out the hair that's sticking on top of his head but it keeps on spring back up, making you laugh in the process.

“just let that hair be. right now, i need your attention.” he laughed at your response and quickly encircled his arms around your waist, looking at you softly. you placed your thighs on both side of his, straddling him, and planted a quick kiss on his lips before burrying your face on the crook of his neck.

“'m tired. can i take a nap here for a while?” you whispered, hugging him tightly.

“of course. i still have 30 minutes before the stream.” he then placed a kiss on your temple and adjusted himself to make yourself more comfy. childe wants nothing but to sleep on your shared bed and cuddle all night, but he promised to go live today, and we all know that childe never breaks his promise.

“just wake me up if you need to start your stream, okay? i don't want to bother you but i really want to be with you right now,” you murmured, slowly falling out of consciousness.

“of course, babe.”

he didn't.

as soon as his time for his stream is nearing, he can't bring himself to wake you up from your peaceful slumber. he knows you must be so tired from today and he doesn't want to disturb you, so he thought that he'd just include you on the stream. he knows you will smack him as soon as you wake hp but he doesn't really care, all he wants to do now is be with you and show you off.

“this live will end after y/n wakes up” read the title.

the little light from the camera lit up, signaling that he is now live. he waited a few minutes for his viewers to join in and his chat was already bombarded with questions on why you're on top of him and compliments about how you two look so sweet together.

“hey guys,” childe whispered on his mic, keeping his voice as low as possible to avoid waking you up.

“as promised, i will be reviewing the new horror game that came out.”

childe is always so loud whenever he is playing games with jumpscares on them. not because he is scared of them, (a little, but he would never admit that) but because it thrills him and his adrenaline would pump.

this time, however, he made a twist.

“as you can see, my baby's sleeping on top of me.” childe swung his chair to the side to prove to his chat that you were in fact sleeping peacefully. your cheeks were smooshed on his shoulders, lips pouted slightly and arms wrapped around his waist loosely. his chat immediately sent hearts and comments about how cute you were, and childe can't help but chuckle at the compliments you were receiving. what can he do? you're just too adorable.

“and you all know how loud i can get when i play horror games. but, now, since y/n's sleeping, i'm gonna try to be as quiet as possible.”

his chat immediately went wild, saying stuff like he'll scream at the first part of the game or he'll wake you up as soon as the game starts. childe raised his right eyebrow slightly, a sly smirk forming on his lips.

“oh? is that a challenge? well, i'm very much up for it.” he said with his challenging tone, although lowering his voice down. his livestream already feels like an impromptu asmr. “if i lose, i'll pick three winners for a guaranteed character on a gacha game. sounds good?”

everyone agreed on the chat and then started the challenge.

he opened the game on his pc and started playing the game, going over the tutorials and controls. he tried to make as little movements as possible to avoid stirring you awake. he admits that it's hard to muffle his own voice but he's very much excited on winning this bet with his chat.

whenever he encounters something that almost made him scream, he will take a deep breath and press a kiss on the top of your head or your temple. you stirred quite a few times but still remained asleep. the tension he feels when he played the game eases everytime he kisses your face, your presence alone soothes him. his leg starts to hurt but that doesn't bother him as long as you're there with him.

childe flashes on a victory smile just as soon as he finishes the game without waking you up. he puts down his controller while he pumped his fist up to the air, letting out a silent scream, unable to contain his excitement. unfortunately, that startled you and pulled you right out of your sleep.

“oh, crap. i'm sorry,” you blinked a few times, looking at him with his apologetic look.

“is it time already? i'm gonna go now. have fun with your stream.” you let out a pout, not wanting to be away from his warmth. as you attempted to stand up, he wrapped his arms around you while pulling you back into him.

“it's fine now. i'm almost done with the stream.” his smile grew wider when he saw you with wide eyes and parted lips, shock written on your face.

“i- what?” you asked, confused. he just chuckled before kissing your cheeks, waving at the camera behind you.

“say hi to them!”

you tilted your head to the side to get a view on what the hell is happening and surely enough, you see yourself on the computer screen with the chat blowing up with “hi” and “you look cute” comments. you shyly waved your hand before burrying your face on childe's neck once more out of embarassment, slapping his arm while he laughed to himself.

“i told you to wake me up!” you groaned.

“i know, i'm sorry!” he's still laughing as he said those words, but he quickly placed another kiss on your cheeks as an apology.

“well, that concludes today's stream. i really hope you enjoyed it because, well, i had fun with it. bye, guys!” he waved at the camera and you mirrored him yet still not lifting your face on his neck. as soon as he shuts his computer down, he stood up from his chair while carrying you. his leg feels numb but he tried his best to walk the two of you twards your shared bedroom.

“they loved you on the stream, think you'd like to show up more?”

“as long as i'm awake.”

“sorry, baby.”

you let the corners of your lips tugged into a smile as you gaze lovingly at your dorky boyfriend. “i know, i love you.”

he pecked your lips softly, still holding you while walking, “i love you too.”

#genshin childe #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #childe x you #genshin fics #genshin fanfic #x reader #genshin x you #childe fics #genshin comfort #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact #childe fluff #childe fic

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n0bamak1s · 3 years

Text

clueless - maki zenin x reader

request: “I was thinking Maki Zenin x Fem reader where y/n is really intimidated by Maki and has avoided her since they first met each other. Despite that, they both have feelings for each other and after a while Maki gets annoyed with y/n and confronts her to figure out why she keeps avoiding Maki. And then the reader accidentally confesses and says something like “how could I not feel intimidated by someone so hot!?”” - @wh0legrain

summary: it’s difficult for you to read maki’s intent when she tries to become more approachable to you, which throws of your plan of trying to avoid her at all costs. alternatively titled: maki zenin is terrible at flirting (genre: fluff, attempt at humor, idiots to lovers)

warnings: like one or two swear words, mentions of bruises/scrapes from training

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i honestly had so much fun with the dynamic between maki and reader here! i love the idea that maki would have no idea how to flirt lmao

“don’t look now, but she’s looking at you again.” panda, your current sparring partner, peered at her over your shoulder as you got into a fighting position. of course, out of curiosity you immediately turned around, and unluckily for your own ego, you made direct eye contact with maki. she seemed to have no intent of backing down from your impromptu staring contest, intense black eyes remaining on you, and had you not been so focused on trying to figure out what had caused this sudden interest in you, you’d have noticed the amused glint in her eyes.

did she really have no shame in being caught staring at you?

before giving yourself any more time to process her expression, you whipped your head back around to face panda. at least you were able to take note of the amusement on his face.

“i don’t get why she keeps glaring at me.” you huffed annoyedly, still feeling her gaze burn into the back of your head. shouldn’t she be busy sparring with inumaki? “if it’s about that one time i borrowed her uniform skirt because mine was in the wash, she should be more mad about inumaki and gojo taking it every time she’s on a mission to try it on.”

panda had a shocked expression on his face, as if to ask why the hell you knew about the boys prancing around in the girl’s skirts whenever the opportunity arose, but it was quickly wiped off to be replaced by a knowing sort of smile.

“no, i doubt that’s why.” his voice rang with the sing-songy sound of knowing something you didn’t, but you simply chose to raise an annoyed eyebrow at his annoying little game rather than question him.

even as you ran at him, fists raised defensively, you swore you could still feel a pair of sleek eyes trailing your movements. you slid to dodge panda’s swing at you, leaving a layer of dirt on the hem of your shorts. despite succeeding in avoiding sparring with maki, which admittedly sounded absolutely brutal, you felt extremely ungrateful for panda’s strength as he lifted you up by the wrist. somehow he managed to end up with you flipped onto your back, despite your best efforts to sweep his legs out from under him. if losing to a literal panda in a fight wasn’t embarrassing enough, it didn’t help that this was the moment maki had decided to suddenly start paying attention to you, a fact you became acutely aware of as she hovered over you, her figure shadowed by the sun behind you.

“you okay?” she cocked an eyebrow, extending a hand to pull you to your feet, making you suddenly conscious of how her legs were positioned on either side of you, so you laid beneath her. when you were unable to sputter out a response, she sighed softly, leaning down so she knelt with her knees resting on the dirt on either side of your thighs. a hand waves in front of your face, and makis brows furrow slightly. “did you hit your head or something because of that idiot?” she cocked a thumb at your sparring partner.

something about her sudden proximity seemed to shock you out of your distracted daze, making you push yourself up so you held yourself by palms flat on the ground. taking note of how close your face was to hers, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smirk, her lips parting slightly to show her teeth. you weren’t even sure if she was aware of the fact that she was smiling right now, or the effect she was having on your already embarrassed state as she leaned over you, her figure shadowing yours.

why was she so intent on making fun of you?

“i’m fine!” you managed to blurt out, pulling your knees close to you to escape the compromising position she’d put the both of you in.

her eyes remained playfully narrowed and her lips turned up, but as she opened her mouth to say something, you practically sprung up from the ground as if you weren’t bruised and tired from fighting, turning on your heel to go back to panda. you flashed an awkwardly apologetic smile, before shrouding yourself in panda’s shadow.

you found yourself grateful for the shadow panda cast on you, as it shielded your eyes from the sun, and the glare you knew was inevitably resting behind maki’s glasses.

the four of you remained sparring until the first glimpse of heavy gray clouds masqueraded the blistering sun. you helped panda up from where he’d laid on the ground, spotting out of the corner of your eye none other than gojo, who looked almost comical inspecting the state of the sky with his usual dopey smile while still adorning his iconic blindfold. had you not known any better, you’d say he looked like a complete idiot.

on the other hand, maki, who did know better, seemed to have no problem stating that he did, in fact, look like a complete idiot.

“so are you just gonna stand there all day, moron? or do you actually have something important to say for once.” maki crossed her arms over her chest, making her jacket taut over her muscles, catching your attention for the briefest of moments. you quickly averted your eyes back to gojo in hopes of not being caught staring as she had earlier, as if you were a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. though you couldn’t see gojos eyes, you could sense a sort of mischief from him as he smiled at you. was today just some weird holiday where people stared at you for no reason that no one had informed you about?

“you guys seem to have the sky on your side today.” gojo smiled widely as his gaze flickered between the four of you lined up in front of him. “since it seems to be about to rain, you guys can get off a little early today, just go clean up in the bathrooms if you need to.” he waved his hands at you all, in a motion that seemed to be shooing you away.

you begin to feel the beginnings of drizzling rain hitting the tip of your nose, and the top of your head, and take that as your cue to leave. letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in, you unzipped and shrugged off your hoodie, throwing it over your shoulder as you turned towards the heavy doors of the school building. you’d only gotten a couple steps closer than you’d been before you heard the familiar sound of your name, called from the less familiar source that was maki zenin.

“wait up!” she called, taking long strides to catch up to you. “if we’re cleaning up now, i’ll come with you and i can help you if you got scraped or anything.” her hand rubbed the back of her neck, and a soft smile cracked onto her lips, egging you on to respond.

you furrowed your brows slightly. she had never bothered to help you out like this before, so what made it different. “i think i’ll be fine.” you hoped your embarrassment at the idea of the situation didn’t show on your face.

“tch, it’s not like i’m planning to kill you in there or anything.” honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if she had been. “it’ll just be weird if we’re both patching ourselves up in silence when there’s clearly a more efficient way to do it.”

screw her for always being correct.

you nodded your head in agreement in a way that was comically defeated. she motioned for you to follow her, and so you trailed behind her like a lost puppy.

though you had no way to prove it, you could’ve sworn that gojo winked at you from underneath his blindfold as you passed him.

the two of you walked in silence that seemed comfortable for you, but maki seemed clearly impatient.

“i wanted to check on you and ask if you were alright.” she broke the silence, pulling off her rain stained glasses to wipe them on the edge of her shorts. “you seemed really frazzled earlier, so if you hit your head or something we can take you to shoko, i wouldn’t want you to get seriously hurt or something.”

you were somewhat surprised by her words, but feigned indifference as you smiled reassuringly. “i’m fine, was just kinda lost in my thoughts earlier. guess you kinda just caught me off guard.” you were telling the truth, so why did it feel as if you were lying straight through your teeth?

as she swung open the girls bathroom door, she gave you an incredulous look, as if she was trying to recall the events of the day that could have made you so tense. you hoisted yourself up to sit on the sink, leaning back with a sigh of relief from finally relaxing your muscles. maki grabbed the small first aid kit, positioning herself to stand between your legs,a position that was oddly reminiscent of when you’d been on the field earlier. she caught your wrist in your hand, causing you to jump slightly as her eyes scanned your forearm, riddled with some bruises from training, but nothing that really needed cleaning.

“what could i have possibly done to catch you off guard?” her words sounded concerned, but contrasted the teasing smile playing at her lips. under the fluorescent lights, you could make out the flush tinted on her cheeks from being outside all day, as if she’d been kissed by the sun herself.

suddenly you felt very shy, twiddling with your thumbs in your lap, and willing your eyes anywhere but where they’d meet maki’s. to her, your current flustered state was an amusing contrast to how you were when fighting curses, your usual confident and strong willed demeanor had been replaced with the attitude of a bashful school girl. still, you knew you’d have to be confrontational in this moment.

“please stop teasing me, maki.” you looked her dead in the eyes, wiping the amusement from her face, and swapping it with a mixture of shock and worry.

“i’m not making fun of you.” she shook her head, her already pink dusted cheeks turning more red. “what makes you think I am?”

you chucked humourlessly. “well if the glaring at me wasn’t enough, you seem to keep trying to embarrass me. if it’s because of that time i borrowed your skirt without telling you, i really am sorry, but stop trying to make fun of me.”

“when did you borrow my skirt? i always just assume it’s the boys being idiots. you can borrow my skirt anytime you want.” you wished you could be mad at her for her nonchalance. “besides, YOU’RE the one who’s always avoiding me, panda told me i should try to be more approachable, so i thought eye contact might help.” she shrugged exasperatedly, placing her hands flat on sink, resting on either side of your thighs.

“well, you don’t exactly have the most approachable face when you’re making ‘eye contact.’ you had me thinking you were plotting my downfall in your head or something.” she stifled a laugh at your overdramatization. “it was totally intimidating.”

“oh?” her smile was dopey, one that only you would be flustered by. “does that mean i make you nervous?” her voice was hushed as she tilted her head downwards toward you, looking satisfied with herself.

“well you’re gonna make anyone nervous if you’re sending them death glares one second and offering to clean their wounds the next.”

her only response was a laugh as she buried her face in her hands. it wasn’t a mean laugh, not one directed at you, more so just her laughing at what idiots the both of you were being.

“you really thought i hated you?” her words were spaced apart by involuntary giggles, her mouth was stretched into a wide grin, almost like one from gojo. “man, i thought i was so obvious!” she turned to hoist herself next to you on the sink, leaning her head on your shoulder as her whole body shook from laughter.

you said nothing in response, just processing if this moment was real. you’d hardly seen maki smile before today, let alone laugh.

“you mean to tell me you’ve spent all this time avoiding me because you thought i hated you?” admittedly, when she repeated it back to you after her outburst of laughter, it did sound rather ridiculous. but to be fair, she should’ve considered the possibility before her sorry attempt to be more approachable.

“it’s not my fault you scare the crap out of me, i mean, how could i not be intimidated by someone so hot!” your mouth moves faster than your brain, and she lifts her head from your shoulder, making you hyper aware of both your words and your sudden proximity to her face.

shit.

your eyes are wide as saucers as you stare at her, convinced that, like a dinosaur, if you don’t move, she won’t even notice you’re there. much to your dread, she smiles yet again (seriously, today alone make up a solid 90% of the times you’d ever seen her smile.)

“you’re such a dumbass, you know?” you can hear the laughter threatening to bubble up in her voice. you wish you could come up with a clever comeback, but you just stared back, moth gaping like a fish out of water. “the reason i was asking panda for advice was because i like you. in hindsight, i suppose he’s probably not the most reliable when it comes to relationship advice.”

“all you really got out of following his advice was making a fool out of me.” you looked down at your feet. “but i guess i kind of did that myself anyways.”

“don’t beat yourself up about it. it’s cute.” she leaned forward so she was in your peripheral, willing you to look at her. “plus if you weren’t such an idiot, i’d have to keep sending you ‘death glares’, as you like to call them, to get your attention.” she chuckled, and you lifted your hand to shove her playfully, before she caught your wrist effortlessly, tugging slightly so you could feel her breath fan on your face.

once again, your mouth moved before you had time to think. “maki...can i kiss you?” you’d taken note of how her eyes darted between your eyes and your lips.

it was her turn to be bashful now. she nodded slowly, her eyes half lidded, as she dared to close the small amount of distance between the both of you. without second thought, you press your lips to hers tenderly, letting your arms loop around her neck, hands meeting between her shoulder blades. her eyelashes tickle your face as they flutter closed, with her hands balancing her, palms flat on the sink counter. the pitter pattering sound of rain from outside echoed in you ears.

the kiss is messy and awkward, but in that moment, you felt on top of the world, smiling into it without a care in the world as your fingers played with the ends of her ponytail. you break away reluctantly for air, taking in the dopey smile on her face, and the way her hands reached to grab yours to hold in her own, rubbing small circles in the back of your hand with her calloused thumb. her breathing is soft and steady, clearly still readjusting after your kiss. wordlessly, she leans forward to rest her head on your shoulder, so you can feel her breath hit the crook of your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“thank god you’re such an idiot.”

#maki zenin x reader #maki zenin x you #maki x reader #zenin maki x reader #maki zenin x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #maki zenin imagine #maki zenin #zenin maki

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inkykeiji · 4 years

Text

i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

✰ ✰ ✰

To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰ ✰ ✰

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰

He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

✰ ✰ ✰

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

✰ ✰ ✰

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

#todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #dabi may be a scumbag but he loves his momma #tomura baby i’m so sorry #promise u don’t horrify me at all oof #pls come horrify me more #christ if dabi isn’t touya we’re all gonna look like goddamn fools #a buncha clowns #anyway this is my first time posting something like this #n i haven’t written smut in an extremely long time #so pls be nice #actually u should always be nice #so pls be extra nice #no one beta’d this so there’s a good chance i’ll come back to it n revise it or whatever idk i’m just sick of looking at it rn #the ‘he talks too much’ is inspired by ch 271 w hawks where he’s all ‘he’ll keep talking’#dabi shut the fuck up challenge #prone to monologuing this boy is #also sorry abt the crazy sentences with a thousand commas #apparently now i’m oscar wilde w these run on sentences #idk i still kinda like em tho #i like oscar #tw pseudo-incest #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw emotional manipulation #tw somnophilia #tw drugs

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eclipsedpascal · 3 years

Text

You Deserve This

Andy Dolan x Female Reader

GIF by @kissxmedeadly !!

“The reader asking Andy about his kiddo (let's pretend is a lil boy 🤣) and him being very emotional about it and the reader who truly loves him conforts him 😭❤️” - anon

Please read the warnings!!

Warnings: use of drugs (weed), smut, oral (female receiving), slight public sex, slight angst, mentions of rehab, mentions of suicidal thoughts, a lil bit of crying and VERY slight Eden spoilers, but thats only if you don't want to know anything AT ALL, so basically none? idk lmao:)

Notes: hi! So this is my first Andy fic, I wrote it very quickly last night after a sudden burst of inspiration and it doesn't make too much sense, also it’s kinda cheesy? I don't think I've ever written anything this angsty or soft before, but i’m trying to be more in touch w my emotions nd this is my way of doing that, so hopefully i'll do more things like this soon:) also if you’re interested, the title is one of my favourite songs by Men I Trust that I just thought fit Andy well.

Word count: 1.8k

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The warm, dancing breeze washed over your skin, plucking up your many goosebumps and blowing the rainbow coloured sea of petals that decorated the large garden from left to right. The bittersweet mix of their fragrances and Andy’s blunt rushed to you and filled your scrunched up, wrinkled nose as you let out a loud laugh. The vibrant expanse of fluffy grass felt close to a mattress underneath you, cradling your form whilst you laid amongst the greenery and watched Andy ghost a deep inhale of the blunt he had balanced precariously between two fingers. He flopped his arm across the gap between you and offered you another toke, the dopey smile spread over his features making you laugh even more.

“What’s so funny? Hmm?” He questioned you jokingly, rolling onto his forearms and bringing his face to hover just above yours as you brought the blunt to your lips. You couldn't hold in your laughter, your drug hazed state and the breeze that pushed his brown curls to tickle your blushing skin only exaggerating your amusement further as you choked out clouds of smoke.

“What??” He joined in laughing, finding humour in his own confusion and finding your laugh infectious. His lips found your own in a sudden yet gentle kiss which you gladly embraced, still not managing to fully compose yourself as you giggled into his open mouth.

You did your best to pull back from the kiss, but were reminded you didn't really have anywhere to go when you felt a blade of grass flutter against your ear. “It’s just.. your smile.” You rested your blunt carrying hand on his cheek as you spoke, feeling your heart swell when he pulled an overdramatic expression of insult at your reply.

“What’s so wrong with my smile?!” He half faked offence, not understanding what you could possibly find so amusing about it as you giggled more and more. “What’s wrong with it?- is it my lips? ‘They not good enough for you baby?” His thick accent aided his voice, making him sound even more attractive than he already was as he joked with you.

“Noo! it definitely wasn’t your lips, cause I love those.” You gripped his locks a little firmer, biting your lip as his stare changed from one of curiosity to one of want.

“Oh yeah?” He leaned back down and kissed you again, but this time rougher, the weed made you feel as if his lips were slowly melting into your own as it sent strong signals of lust through your body. He put all his weight on one arm, lifting the other and groping your waist with it whilst simultaneously moving to trail wet kisses down your neck.

His touches were deep, yet executed so delicately it convinced you if he was any rougher, you might just break. He opened the buttons of the flowing shirt you wore; one you had stolen out of his wardrobe that morning. He moved his head further down your chest to your stomach, mouth racing in slow motion to reach you were he wanted to most.

Forgetting to explain why you found his smile so funny in the first place, your high carried your thoughts closer towards how incredible his mouth felt on your skin, making you lean into his touch and let out a few small mewls.

As he reached your panty line, he tapped your hip, signalling for you to lift them so he could take your shorts off. He slid them off your legs in a quick, smooth motion that had them landing on a nearby lavender bush. The garden had quite a large variety of blossoming shrubbery and many clusters of beautiful flowers, it was probably down to the bi-weekly gardeners Andy had hired. You had known they were expensive and after spending so much time like this, lazing around, surrounded by the expensive home’s nature, you were beginning to understand why he had hired them.

You returned your gaze from the dangling shorts, back to the man nestled between your bare thighs. His beard was scratching at your skin in the best way possible as he laid small kisses over the thin fabric that covered your cunt. His hot breathe felt like fire as you wriggled and squirmed below him, just wanting some kind of contact from him.

He used two fingers to peel your panties to the side, groaning at the site of your glistening folds before kissing your clit gently. His tongue started swiping across your cunt slowly, taking all the time in the world to make you feel as good as he knew he could. You moaned loudly, grabbing at his hair once more as he sucked on you deeply.

“Mr Dolan?” You were interrupted by a throat clearing before hearing a man speak; one of Andy’s many servants you guessed. They had never seemed to leave the two of you alone whilst you had been staying there. No matter how big his home was, you always seemed to find another at every corner.

Andy looked up to the man with question and annoyance, raising an eyebrow at him as he wished for him to just hurry up and leave so the two of you could continue with your escapades. “It’s the phone for you Mr Dolan. Your son.”

Andy quickly rose from his place below you, his mind abandoning all thought of the act he was just partaking in as he jogged past the glass doors of his home, wanting only to speak to the young boy.

You sat up slightly, doing up a few buttons of your shirt and laying your crossed legs to the side of you as you held yourself up with your arm. You watched him as he scrambled into the house after his servant, little red marks from where he had been lying in the grass next to you were noticeably imprinted on the skin of his left arm, the one he had been leaning on, and his open shirt was flowing behind him with the speed he was moving.

You looked down to the flowers on front of you, picking a single daisy that bore tinted, pink tips on the end of each slim, white petal, twirling the stem around between two of your fingers as you listened to the breeze pick up. You could feel the mood of the air change as he left, the wind feeling more cold an irritating than once before as you pondered the call Andy was having.

You knew how desperate he had been to speak to his son again. It had been months since he had spoken to him without his ex-wife being the messenger. He missed him more than he knew to describe.

His recent divorce had been what had fuelled him to return home to Eden; hoping to find solace in the paradise he knew so well after feeling as if he had lost himself entirely. Spending too many years constantly playing other people had taken more of a toll on him than he had realised, that was until he was sent to rehab. After getting out, he felt as if staying in Eden was the only way for him to climb out of the dark hole he had managed to find himself in. Unfortunately, this journey of finding himself had meant making the decision to leave his son behind in Los Angles. Something he didn't like to speak on much.

When you had first met him in rehab however, he had been extremely open about his life, telling you how anger was the only emotion he could really feel anymore. Explaining that if he wasn’t at least the slightest amount intoxicated, he didn't think he couldn't go on with living; especially after the recent downfall of his career being showcased for the entire world to see. It was dark stuff, but you understood each other. That’s a big part of what made you grow so close.

You picked off petal after petal from the daisy, watching its beauty fade with each pluck and letting each one slowly blow into the breeze, creating a tragic stream as they blew away from you and down to the not so far off shoreline. As you plucked the last petal, you admired the daisy, still glowing with pollen and beaming in the sunlight despite have lost so many important parts of it. You stuck it into your shirt pocket and fell back down to lay on the grass as you waited for Andy to finish his call.

It had been maybe ten minutes you were lying with your eyes closed, enjoying the heat that beamed down from the clear, Australian sky when you finally heard the slow footsteps that you knew to be Andy’s, pattering along the grass. You shot up from where you lay to see the dopey-smiled man who had left you in the garden just fifteen minutes before, only to be faced with a red-eyed, teary one.

“Andy what happened? Are you okay?” He fell down onto the grass besides you, staring at you but completely wordless. You felt as if you could see into his soul. He was feeling so many emotions he hadn’t even been able to grasp at in so long. It was overwhelming him and you knew it. You reached out to stroke is cheek, concern running through you for the man that you had grown to love so dearly over the past few months.

He looked up “She’s gonna let me see him. T-They’re coming over next month.” A tear fell from his face as he smiled harder than you had ever seen him smile before. He was finally going to see his son after all these long months and you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

“Really?! That’s amazing, oh my god!” You moved forwards, wrapping your arms over his large shoulders and squeezing him in a hug so full of love it was palpable. “You really got to speak to him this time?” You questioned him once more before pulling away from his grasp, thinking back to the many times his ex-wife had promised he could speak with the boy but decided at the last minute he wouldn’t get to.

“Yeah!.. he uhh,” He took in a shaky breath, chuckling with joy as he recalled hearing the young boy’s voice so filled with excitement and energy over the phone. “He said he couldn't wait to meet you! You know, when I told him about you.” He stumbled over his words, running a hand through his hair as he shook with nerves, doing his best to calm himself.

In that moment, you felt your love for him soar higher than it ever had before. You were so proud of the progress he had made, and you knew his son would be too. “And I cant wait to meet him either.” You rested your forehead against his, the two of you enjoying a stand still and bathing in the happiness you both felt in the beautiful moment. The sound of the ever present breeze occupied your ears as the laughter emitting from two of you joined it, echoing a song throughout the garden that wouldn’t be forgotten any time soon.

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Thank you sm for reading!!🥺💗

Tags: @celestialrequiem @ntxoza @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @blakescoven @ritualmichael @ghostangels @fernfiction @ferndolan @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @kitty4860 @lavenderahs @michaellangdonstanaccount @9layerdevilfoodcake @chicaluna2410 @plymptxn-reborn I've just tagged anyone who I thought might be interested as per usual, but if you would to be removed feel free to let me know!! you can also lemme know if you would like to be added to the tag list too:)

#Andy Dolan #Andy Dolan x female reader #Andy Dolan x reader #dad!Andy Dolan #dad!Andy Dolan x female reader #dad!Andy Dolan x reader #Andy Dolan fic #Andy Dolan smut #Andy Dolan imagine #cody fern #Cody Fern fic #eden fic #my writing

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gamerwoo · 3 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part Four)

Characters: Joshua x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, fluffy angst, Josh being a grumpy old man lmao

Word count: 2,042

Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.

Previous | Next | Second Chance Masterlist

Because of how exhausted he was, Joshua was in and out of consciousness for a while. He couldn’t even keep track of days because he was sleeping at weird hours -- but it had really only been two days. He never stayed awake for very long -- the longest was always just to eat and go to the bathroom if he had to, and then go back to sleep -- but the first thing his eyes always found when he opened them was you.

You, however, weren’t asleep for nearly as long. You woke up again in the morning to see Joshua was still asleep -- you didn’t know he’d ever woken up. You still had a million questions bouncing around your head about who he was, what happened next, and the like, but you decided to just go with it until you found out. No point in panicking, right?

“You should be all set to go home today,” Minjee reported.

The wolfsbane was cleansed from your system -- mostly thanks to Joshua, otherwise your recovery would’ve been slower since you didn’t heal as quickly as the werewolves -- so all you really had to do was rest until your body fully recovered. But that was the same for Joshua, so it worked out.

However, Minjee wasn’t sure what was happening when you were discharged. Would you go home with Joshua and his pack mates? Would he turn you away and have you go off on your own? Even Hansol and Kyung said they weren’t sure when Minjee had asked.

But you just nodded, not even having those thoughts cross your mind, “Okay.”

Minjee sat down on the edge of your bed and studied you, “Do you mind if I ask a few questions first?”

“Sure,” you shrugged without hesitation.

“What’s your name?”

“_____ _____.”

“And where are you from, _____?”

“The Capitol.”

Minjee’s eyebrows raised, “So you’re not too far from here, then. We’re in the Capitol -- southeast of the castle.”

Huh. You didn’t know that. That was at least convenient to be close to a familiar place. But the Capitol was huge.

“Do you have a pack or family?” Minjee continued.

You shook your head. You’d been on your own for a few years now.

“You’re alone?” she asked.

In the other room, Kyung and Hansol looked at each other.

“So then why were you running around the forest at night, _____?” Minjee continued.

You shrugged, “Got bored.”

Minjee definitely thought you were...interesting. You were all by yourself, you were running through the woods in the dark for fun, and you still somehow didn’t seem fazed by any of it. And to top it all off, you still kept glancing over at Joshua and rubbing one thumb over his knuckles like you were already comfortable with him. He was a complete stranger to you, you hadn’t even spoken to him or seen him awake, but you didn’t seem to care. You weren’t even asking her questions like she expected. It was like you didn’t care about anything, you were just rolling with whatever came.

“Hey, Jee?” a girl opened the curtain and popped her head in. She had loose springy curls that were tied into two buns on her head, brown skin, dark freckles dotted over her cheeks and nose, and golden eyes that shifted over to you. Her eyes widened slightly for some reason before returning to Minjee. “Two of our other alphas are here. They want to know what’s happening with Joshua.”

“He’ll be good to go home when he wakes up,” she replied warmly with a nod. “He’ll definitely need the help home, though.”

The foreign girl turned her head, listening to what someone else was saying to her before turning back again, “Jihoon wants to talk to you.”

“Send them right in.”

The girl stepped aside to let two men through the white curtain -- you wondered if it was actually a bedsheet. One was short with light brown hair, and the other was taller with silver hair. The shorter one had an undercut with the rest of his hair looking a little wavy, while the taller one’s hair was fluffier and parted to the side. Like the girl, they both had golden eyes that seemed to study you curiously.

Jihoon and Seungcheol assumed you must’ve been the girl they’d heard about considering your cot was still beside Joshua’s, and your hand was wrapped around his. You didn’t react to their staring, just blinking back at them. But they took note of one physical difference that Soomin either forgot to mention or simply was unaware of: instead of gold eyes, your eyes were an icy blue.

The taller one’s eyes moved over to the doctor, while the shorter one continued to blatantly stare at you. Of course, you stared back.

“Is he really well enough to come home already?” the taller boy wondered. “It’s only been two days.”

Minjee nodded, “Hansol has medicine he’ll have to take three times a day to help with pain and healing, and Joshua will have medicine to take every twelve hours. ______ will need medicine as well, but... Um, other than that, the two just need a lot of rest -- especially Joshua.”

“What about her?” the shorter one asked, nodding his head toward you.

Before Minjee could say anything, you opened your mouth, “What about me?”

Jihoon’s eyebrows raised in surprise, almost like he didn’t think you could or would talk, “...Sorry.”

“Can you guys keep it down?” a groggy, raspy voice asked beside you.

Your head whipped to the right as you felt Joshua’s fingers squeeze yours. He was rubbing one eye with his free hand and letting out a yawn before he blinked his eyes open and looked between the two alphas.

“He lives,” Seungcheol chuckled. “How do you feel, Shua?”

“Like shit,” he replied, draping his arm over his eyes.

The two alphas noticed Josh was keeping his hand in yours despite being awake. Their eyes flickered from your hands, to each other.

“What’re we talking about?” Josh asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Uh...well…” Seungcheol tried desperately to find the right words to ask what he planned to do about you, but he was too scared to bring you up to Josh. He didn’t want to upset him already.

Thankfully, Minjee spoke up, “I need to know what’s happening with _____.”

Hearing your name, you broke out of your trance of staring at Joshua now that he was finally awake, and looked at the doctor.

Joshua tore his arm away from his eyes and lifted his head slightly to narrow his eyes at Minjee, “Who?”

She gestured to you, “Your mate.”

Hearing the title made him growl lowly in his chest as he slowly turned to look at you. Despite the aggressive noise, you could hear his heartbeat pick up when his eyes landed on you. It was also the first time he was seeing you awake, and deep down, it felt amazing to see you actually alive and well.

However, he still managed to tear his hand away from yours.

“She’s not coming home with us,” he scoffed. “She’s not my problem.”

“Josh--”

“Jihoon, you can’t tell me what to do,” he cut off the alpha. “I’ll do perfectly fine on my own, thank you. I don’t want or need another mate.”

However, everyone was surprised to see that you weren’t speaking up. They looked at you and found that you didn’t even seem bothered by Joshua’s words or actions. You had lifted your now empty hand closer to your face, looking at it as if you’d see traces of Joshua or something. But your expression was neutral before you looked up at Josh and shrugged.

“Alright.”

Seungcheol blinked, “A-- Alright?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged again. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It kind of is…” Jihoon said like you were stupid.

Hey, maybe you were. You didn’t know how any of this worked. You didn’t even fully grasp what was going on.

“It’s a good thing you’re braindead, I guess,” Joshua snorted under his breath before laying his head back down.

“We’ll just...take him home now,” Seungcheol told Minjee awkwardly, bowing his head slightly in a silent apology.

“I’ll go get their medications,” the doctor replied as she stood. “You can get Hansol and Joshua ready to be discharged.”

The curtain was pushed aside so the two patients could now interact. Seungcheol and Kyung were going to have to help support Joshua as he walked at least to the edge of the forest so Seungcheol could properly carry him without getting odd looks. But Hansol was good enough to walk home on his own, and you were, too. So you got out of bed and changed back into the clothes you were in when they found you -- but now they were washed and clean.

“So..._____,” the taller alpha began just to make some sort of conversation in the awkward silence, “where are you going to go now?”

“Uh…” you trailed off before shrugging. “I don’t know, probably back to the cave.”

“Cave?” the girl repeated as the group looked at you with varying looks of surprise. “I thought you were from here?”

“I am,” you nodded, “but I don’t live here.”

“You live in a cave?” the shorter alpha checked.

You shook your head, “Well, no. Recently, I’ve been staying in a cave because I found it. Before it was just...wherever there was some sort of shelter.”

“So you don’t live anywhere?” the wolf you had yet to meet asked. He had shaggy strawberry blonde hair and stayed close to the other girl.

“I guess not.”

You were too busy going back to putting your shirt on that you didn’t notice the way the pack pointedly looked at Joshua.

As the pack was leaving and walking down the few steps -- going slowly as to be accommodating for Josh -- you followed behind them. You weren’t really sure what to do with yourself for the rest of the day since you still weren’t feeling 100%. Maybe you could just go find a place to nap or something.

The pack continued onto the path, but Joshua turned his head. He saw you still standing on the middle step, looking this way and that with a thoughtful look on your face as you held a small paper bag with your medication in it. He stopped walking, causing the two who were helping support his weight stop. So the two behind him stopped, as well. They all turned to look where he was looking, which was at you.

Joshua very loudly cleared his throat, catching your attention. He was looking at you in annoyance, and his eyes rolled when you continued to just stand there and stare at him.

“Well come on,” he snapped.

“...Huh?”

“Let’s go,” he said with more force. “I’m tired and wanna go home. If you trail behind and get caught in another net or get attacked by wild animals, that’s not my problem.”

He turned back and continued walking again, the two beside him moving with him despite them continuing to glance back at you.

Was he...inviting you home with them? But didn’t he say you weren’t going with them? So--

“You should probably hurry,” the short one -- you realized his name was Jihoon -- told you, though he had traces of a smile on his face. “He’s pretty irritable.”

“Shut up, Hoon,” Joshua called behind him.

Jihoon chuckled but continued walking.

Hansol, however, stayed back to wait for you. He understood you must’ve been a little confused. You were dying, only to wake up to a mate, members of his pack, and now you were being told one thing and then something completely opposite. So he waved you over.

“C’mon, _____,” he called with a warm smile. “We’re gonna take you home.”

Home. That sounded nice to you. It was a word you hadn’t heard or thought of in a while now. So you bounded down the steps and walked beside Hansol as he began telling you about their pack and the house.

Ahead of you, Joshua was grumbling to himself in annoyance about the whole situation.

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dokidokey · 3 years

Text

who would have thought that passing a 20-page paper 5 days late would lead you to dabi?

word count: 3,765

tags & warnings: bad boy x straight a student au, college au, fluff, a pinch of endeavor slander, brief mention of throwing up, brief mention of abuse (nothing explicit, the word just gets mentioned once!)

notes: hi zeze (@reddriot), i’m your secret santa! sorry this is so late, we’re on our way home at this ungodly hour and i finally have some stable connection now lmao. i’m so so sorry but also, happy holidays! i hope you enjoy what my pretty much dry and blank mind managed to cook up lol i’m so thankful and i met you and got to know you. <3 thank u for everything. and the title lol omg i’m so bad at titles but i kind realized it rhymes with ornaments, so i left it at that.

The day you met Todoroki Touya was not a good day. You would even consider it a bad week, actually. Apparently, you were a week late on a 20-page paper for History and you didn’t even know. It irked you because you have no other excuse except that you didn’t know. There was a totally different due date in your head, one that wasn’t five days ago. So when your teacher shook her head disapprovingly while tucking your 20-page paper against the smooth surface of her desk, you had no other choice but to leave the room.

You wouldn’t want a teacher to see you cry over a late submission. You certainly wouldn’t want other students roaming the hallway to see you cry either, so you had to fight off the warmth pooling at the corners of your eyes. The last corner leading to the campus library was where Todoroki Touya presented himself.

The impact of your bodies bumping against each other came first, then the stinging pinch of something hot against your skin next. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you pulled your arm away, eyes widening at the sight of a small, circular burn mark on your forearm.

“You burned － Why are you smoking here?” The accusing tone in your voice immediately disappeared and replaced by panic as you watched a quite familiar face bring a cigarette to his lips, perfectly poised between his long fingers. “You’re not allowed to smoke on campus grounds!”

A puff of smoke swirled through the air as he huffed, the corner of his lips twitching as he eyed you up and down. The intense, blue eyes taking over your body sent shivers down your spine, arms protectively crossing over your front to try and shield yourself from his gaze.

“Not if I don’t get caught,” he smirked, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. The man was familiar; face and most of his skin that’s exposed under the leather jacket were covered in scars, a dark contrast against his fair complexion. You’re sure you will never forget him if you knew him, but the familiarity of his face doesn’t ring any names in your head.

He puffed out the smoke in a harsh breath, the delicate sound seeming so loud in the quiet and isolated hallway. For a moment you forgot about your late History paper and the chances of you getting anything lower than an A.

Both of your palms met the fabric of your denim-clad thigh in a light slap, arms sagging and voice raising. “If you and I get caught－!”

“Then leave.”

The deadpan and harsh delivery of his words left you open-mouthed, the disapproving look of your teacher once again flashing in your mind. The corners of your eyes warmed again, stinging more than the way it did earlier.

You’re croaking out an unwanted explanation before you realized it. “I － I might get detention and－,” you sniffled, trying to prevent the tears from flowing because you know how embarrassing that would be, so much so to this mysterious person who you found familiar but not really. “And my parents－.”

A scoff cuts you off. You watched as he killed the ember of the cigarette using his bare fingers, pinching the lit end between his thumb and forefinger before tucking it in one of his front pockets. If it weren’t for the strong stench of the cigarette, no one would suspect that he was smoking here, in front of you, inside campus grounds.

“Of course. Precious little [Name] can’t have bad grades and a bad record.”

He said it as if it was so bad. You wouldn’t normally find offense on jabs like those, but today wasn’t just your day. Your retort died down quickly in your throat though when you realized he said your name. He knew you.

With furrowed brows and quivering lips, you asked, “how do you know me?”

The dark-haired man leaned on the concrete wall, shoving a hand down the pocket of his pants. “Who wouldn’t know the teachers’ favorite student? Straight A, little miss [Name].”

It was your turn to scoff. “Favorite,” you mocked, eyes rolling, “I didn’t know being the favorite meant not considering the fact that I didn’t know the deadline was 5 days ago without anyone else informing me.”

A smirk blossomed on his stupidly handsome face. “For once you didn’t get away with something, huh?”

“Didn’t get away? I didn’t know! I had no idea! It’s not my fault.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s true.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and taking two steps back, eyes still on you. He winked, then turned around. The silence in the hallway felt deafening as you stood there, but the quick footsteps of his figure walking back towards you eats up the quiet. “Or on second thought,” he says, tapping a foot on the floor, “I can excuse you to the teacher about your late paper.”

It seemed like the tears of frustration pooling at the sides of your eyes retreated back to your tear glands, ears more than ready to hear out whatever his proposition was.

“If you act as my fake girlfriend for a Christmas dinner with my family, I’ll tell the teacher that I tricked you about the deadline.”

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “And that’s going to work?”

“Have you seen me, doll? I’m that boy your teacher refers to as a bad influence.”

“You should not be hanging out with people like him, [Name.]”

Mrs. Nakamura’s disappointed tone does nothing to stop the smile spreading on your face, though you tried to suppress it to not come off as suspicious. You’re nodding your head like you’re agreeing with her, knowing that that will not happen any time soon because you have a Christmas dinner with your boyfriend’s family in less than three weeks.

“Go on then,” your teacher waved her hand, “you aren’t marked as late but remember what I told you. If you keep that boy around you, trouble’s sure to follow.”

The hallway didn’t feel as dark and lonesome as it did earlier. It’s surely not because of the other person walking along with you. You’d like to think that, but a part of you knew you might just be lying. And it was stupid, really. Were you really harboring a crush over him? You. . . don’t even know his name.

“What’s your name?”

A choked laugh was the reply you got. “What? You don’t know me?”

“You’re familiar. I just can’t put a name on you,” you shrugged.

“Touya. Todoroki Touya,” he answered, grimacing. “But call me Dabi. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Are you saying we’re friends?” You grinned, looking up at him. He was tall, okay. So much more taller than you. You barely reached his shoulders.

“Technically, you’re my girlfriend, so no. We are not friends.”

You decided technicalities weren’t so bad when Dabi almost never left your side. The sudden (and quite cliché yet comic) pair you two made didn’t go unnoticed by the teachers. Mrs. Nakamura reminded you every single day about Dabi and his troubles. You aren’t aware what kind of troubles Dabi is associated in yet, but you’d like to think you’ll get there.

When you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend, you didn’t think it would be this kind of long-term thing. You thought that maybe he’ll leave you alone after that day and just hit you up again on the day of the dinner, but you were so wrong.

You’ve never liked being wrong as much as you did about him.

“Stop fussing, my mom’s going to love you.”

He’s said that for the fourth time now. You’re making him more antsy than you are with your bouncing leg and deep sighs every ten seconds.

“And your dad?” You glare at him, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans and bouncing your leg again. He rolls his eyes as an answer.

In the short, three weeks you’ve gotten to know Dabi, you learned a lot about him. One, he hates his father passionately. Two, the teachers don’t really like him (but that sounds so mean when worded like that so you like to think he just isn’t the favorite student.) Three, he’s allergic to fish. Four, he pays attention to every single thing you say. Five, he’s actually the eldest out of the four Todoroki children and lastly, (this is more about you than him) maybe you let your little crush fester more than you planned.

You’ve had to berate yourself multiple times that he is not your boyfriend. You and Dabi are not in a real relationship. This is all a product of your grades being saved and an arrangement to fill up an empty seat at his family’s dinner for Christmas.

“What if your sister doesn’t like me,” you say meekly, “or your brother. And your other brother.”

Dabi shifts on the bench you both are sitting on to face you properly, placing a warm hand over your sweaty ones. “Stop it. They’re going to love you.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes but really, you’re just having a hard time making your brain function properly to process a reply when his hands are there, on top of yours, warm and soothing. It makes your heart do a little happy dance inside your chest that you know it should not be doing, but you can’t help it.

You’re way too deep into this hell, and you don’t know how you’ll take it when he cuts you off after you both benefit from this arrangement you have.

When Dabi pulls you up to stand up before he walks you home, you try to remember how his hands felt against yours.

“You look nice.”

Nice. You had to rummage through your closet for this halter dress, the most decent thing you can find that can fit for a Christmas dinner. It’s 6 PM on the 24th of December and even though this isn’t how you expected to spend the night before Christmas, here you are anyway.

“You look nice too,” you compliment, taking in how Dabi is wearing an actual pair of decent slacks and a button up. A nervous laugh bubbles out of your throat. “You said it was a simple dinner date so I was kind of expecting you to just show up in one of your old, ragged jeans, you know?!”

He quirks his head to the left, the sides of his lips turned up. Dabi offers you his hand as you descend the few steps from your apartment door. “It was,” he says, “but my mom made me wear this when I said I’ll bring a girl over.”

“Haven’t you brought a girl over before?”

A mischievous smile spreads over Dabi’s face, a thumb pressing a gentle pressure on the back of your hand. “No. You’re special because you’re the first one.”

Great. It’s not like you’re not nervous enough about meeting the Todorokis. He just has to tell you you’re the first girl his family will meet. What makes it worse is that you aren’t really Dabi’s girlfriend. It seems a little selfish on both of your parts to let the rest of his family get to know you and then you’ll never see them again because, well, this arrangement can’t last forever, can it?

“And you have a car?” You gasp, eye zeroing in on the sleek, black vehicle parked across the street where you both are heading. “You have a car?”

He chuckles, shaking his head side to side. “This is my dad’s, actually.” He says it again with an eye roll, opening up the passenger door for you. “He only made me use it to impress you.”

“Like I’m not impressed enough?” You huff out a laugh, palms gliding over the dashboard.

“Impressed by what?”

You, you’d like to answer, but for the sake of your sad excuse of a relationship, you keep your mouth shut.

“Things.”

The ride to their place was filled with back and forth banter from you and Dabi. He’s tried to calm you down when a new wave of nervousness surged within you but as you stand in front of their door with hands sweating an entire Pacific ocean, it’s obvious his attempt didn’t work.

“Calm down,” Dabi says, forehead scrunched as he watches you fiddle with the skirt of your dress. You’ve been standing there for about two minutes now and if your goal is to make your nervousness rub off on him, then you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Is my hair okay?” You fuss over some more, smoothing out the unruly strands that weren’t even there. “Is my face－?”

Dabi grabs your hands in his, calloused fingers wrapping around yours. The words die in your throat as you look up at him with wide eyes, mind blanking out at the warmth on your palm.

“You look beautiful, okay? If you touch your hair or smooth your skirt one more ti－.”

“I knew I heard you guys!”

An enthusiastic voice of a girl almost the same height as you rings through your ears and you look over to see his sister, Fuyumi, white and red hair parted in the middle and over her shoulders. You’ve seen her in some pictures in Dabi’s phone because you’re in that stage where you can just casually unlock and go through Dabi’s phone. (You haven’t seen anything unusual yet, just some candid pictures of you that you have no idea how he took. Bless your poor heart after you discovered that album dedicated just for you.)

Fuyumi places her hands on her hips, smiling brightly at you. “I thought Touya was just lying about you to escape the marriage arranged for him but turns out he isn’t.” She opens the door wider for you and Dabi. “Come in. Mom’s been waiting for you.”

The Todoroki household is neat. Minimalist. You aren’t sure if it’s spacious or it’s an illusion due to the lack of decorations inside. Fuyumi immediately hugs you after you and Dabi are completely inside, and she leads you away to meet Natsuo and Shouto. The sight of Natsuo startles you at first. He looks exactly like how you envisioned Dabi to be if he didn’t have scars. And seriously, what’s up with this family having scars? You noticed a dark crimson circling Shouto’s right eye.

Mrs. Todoroki is the most welcoming of them all, if not as much as Fuyumi. Her hand immediately went to your hair, patting softly and smiling delicately at you.

“I never imagined the day would come when Touya finally brings home a girl,” she whispers. The sight of her eyes getting glassy is enough to make your own gloss over, though it’s for an entirely different reason. How cruel can you and Dabi be to pretend and lie like this in front of his mom?

“Oh, please don’t cry! Did I make you cry?” She laughs tearfully, squeezing your shoulder. You choke out a laugh at her reaction, shaking your head no.

“I leave her alone for five minutes and you already made her cry?” Comes Dabi’s voice at the entryway of the kitchen, his tall frame blocking the path. He walks over to where you and Rei are standing, placing a warm hand on the small of your back. “What did mom say to make you cry?”

Rei sniffles and you dab a finger under your eyes, trying to keep your tears at bay. “Nothing,” you reply, unconsciously leaning back on his chest as you keep your emotions in check. In front of you, Rei has a fond look in her eyes as she watches Dabi tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and your wobbly smile directed at her son.

Your little moment is ruined when the front door shuts close with a loud rattle. Dabi tenses behind and you crane your neck enough to see across the living room a tall and broad man with bright red hair.

“That’s your father,” Mrs. Todoroki sighs.

The food is good but the dinner is awkward. Todoroki Enji made sure that either you nor Dabi will be able to sit through tonight peacefully.

“I’m surprised you managed to stick around my son this long,” Enji rumbles, looking at you briefly before going back to his meal. Four months. That’s what you and Dabi came up with for your pretend relationship. You’ve been dating for four months and you both knew each other after getting paired up for a History project. It’s not much of a lie since you did meet because of History.

“I’m surprised Dabi managed to stick around me this long,” you reply nervously, trying to make light of the situation. It seems you only made it worse when Enji’s sharp eyes bote onto yours.

“Dabi?” He inquires, head tilting to the side. The rest of the Todorokis are quiet except him. “You call him that?”

You nod, stomach churning. Any time now and you might just throw up. “You call him by that name, huh?” He chuckles hollowly, shaking his head. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you here, much less as Touya’s infamous girlfriend. If I didn’t know better, he just hired you as a fake girlfriend to run away from tradition.”

Tradition. Right. Dabi has mentioned to you once that his parents were arranged. He’s told you how he knows his father doesn’t really love his mom. You know about the abuse and the way he treats his family.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong because what Dabi－,” you pause, turning briefly to look at him, “Touya. What Touya and I have is pretty much real.”

Enji scoffs, a large, heavy palm slapping on the smooth surface of their mahogany table. “Tell me that again when you’re still here a year from now.”

“Sure,” you smile, cheeks aching with how forced it is. It baffles you how Dabi’s father has all the authority in this household －how no one dares to object or talk back.

Todoroki Enji decides to surprise when deep chuckles start escaping his lips. “You,” he points a finger at you, “I like you. You’re brave. Not a single person in this household can face me like that. You’re too good for that boy,” he nods over Dabi’s direction. From your peripheral, you can see just how tight Dabi’s hands are clenched, and you reach over to place one over his.

“Actually, he’s too good for me,” you quip back. You have no idea where this sudden surge of confidence is coming from, but that doesn’t matter. You need to say what you have to say. You wouldn’t be seeing this family ever again after this anyways. “Touya is actually a good man. He’s more than what meets the eye. Maybe you’ll know that if you paid enough attention to him － and all your children, honestly.”

There’s no taking back what you just spewed out. Too stunned, you aren’t aware of the smug smirk and raised eyebrows Dabi is sporting. You don’t see the way Natsuo is trying to fight off his smile. Mrs. Todoroki and Fuyumi have a hand in their faces and Shouto, for the first time since you arrived, looks at you wholly and quite in awe. With your blood rushing in your ears and heart beating erratically, you open your mouth to excuse yourself, but Dabi beats you to it.

“Now if you would just excuse us.” And he’s tugging on your hand. You whisper out a quiet “I’m sorry,” when you pass by Rei, and you’re out of the front door.

“So,” you grin, hugging the mug of hot chocolate to your chest with your feet tucked beneath you. “On a scale of one to ten, how good was I at ruining your family’s dinner?”

After that whole dinner fiasco, you both just decided to go home to your apartment. Dabi is currently sprawled over the other end of your couch, his feet perched on the coffee table (you told him three times already to put it down) and three of his shirt buttons are undone. He’s got his own cup of hot chocolate on his hand, the other playing with the frills of your throw pillow.

“An eleven,” he grins back at you. He leans over and places his mug on the table. “That took guts.”

You nod. “It did. It just didn’t sit right with me how he talked about you like that, like － I remember you telling me how he used to be all over you as a child, but after Shouto was born, he neglected all of you. He isn’t － That’s not － What kind of father does that?” You sigh, groaning when you remember Rei and the rest of his siblings had to witness that.

“That is so embarrassing. I’m pretty sure your mom hates me now.”

“Trust me,” Dabi chuckles, sitting upright and moving closer to you, “she does not. You should have seen Natsu. He was about to lose it.”

“Still,” you press, throwing him a dirty look. “Who talks like that to their boyfriend’s dad on the first meeting?”

Dabi stares at you, turquoise eyes brighter than ever. “So I’m your boyfriend now?”

You’re pretty sure your heart just skipped a beat at that. “I mean, t-technically. Right? That was － That was what we － That was what we were pretending to be.”

Reality dawns on you again. This is all pretend. No matter how warm Rei and his sibling welcomed you, no matter how much Rei adored you, you’ll never see them again. This is a one time thing － something beneficial for the two of you. And as much as it breaks your heart that you got attached to Dabi that fast, you try to hide your sadness by saying, “at least I won’t see them again, so technically, talking back to your dad is fine.”

“Do you want to though?”

“I － What?”

Dabi leans closer. “Do you want to stop pretending?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. “Is this a trick question?”

He goes closer. The tips of his hair are grazing your forehead. Even this close, Dabi seems to be looming over you. “I wouldn’t mind making it real.”

“I really don’t want to see your father again,” you whisper. Dabi barely closes the gap between the two of you, nose touching yours.

“We can arrange that.”

more notes: tbh this kind of strayed, uh, kinda far from the bad boy x straight a student au but that’s just because most of what i plan ends up straying kind of far from the original idea. but never mind that, i’m happy with how this turned out. EXCUSE ME THAT LAST LINE? WITH THE ARRANGE THING? HELLO? AM I GIVING MYSELF TOO MUCH CREDITS? I MIGHT BE, BUT I DON’T CARE. also ze (´ ▽｀) if you ever get tagged by me on another dabi fic, it’s just me making up for this late post i am sorry.

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi scenarios #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha angst #bnha fluff #omfg my first dabi fic bye

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years

Text

A life With You Chapter 1

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Mason Lockwood x Reader, Eventual Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Requested: Can I have an Elijah x Pregnant!Reader? Not his baby, but he loves her and is willing to be the legal father of the baby 🥺 I need fluff in my life lmao ✨👌 -Anon

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Nothing in this one. Just setting up the story for us.

Author’s Note: Oh look! A new series! Welcome to the first chapter of A life with you. I had an idea for a hallmarkish story and this is what came of a request that I had gotten. I do hope you guys enjoy it. While this will be an Elijah x reader endgame it will be a while before we catch a glimpse of Elijah. So bare with me okay? 🙈

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

<< Series Masterlist || Chapter 2 >>

“This isn’t some walk in the park!” Damon yelled at Y/N as he took a step closer to her. “This isn’t just some chance to prove that you can handle things! We’re talking about your life.”

“You don’t get to make this decision for me.” Y/N said as she shook her head. Her hand on her bag filled with her gear. She was set out to leave in just minutes. “We both knew what would happen when we signed up for this.”

Y/N moved to walk past Damon. The moment she did, Damon grabbed a hold of her arm, causing her to turn back to him. “We may have signed up for this, but I didn’t sign up to watch you agree to a suicide mission.”

A sad smile pulled at her lips as she brought her hand up to Damon’s face and placed it on his cheek. As she looked up at him, she didn’t say anything at first. She couldn’t get her thoughts out as she wanted to. “I’ll always come home to you. That isn’t going to change with this mission.”

Damon’s hand came up to place his hand on top of hers as he watched her. He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it quickly before shaking his head and laughing a moment later.

“Cut!” The director called out.

Y/N chuckled as she watched Damon take a step away from her. “It’s it really that hard to tell me you love me?” She joked.

“It’s kind of hard when you’re making faces where the camera can’t see you.” He chuckled causing Y/N to laugh.

“That’s definitely payback for yesterday’s go of things.” She said with a nod and it was Damon’s turn to laugh.

“You lasted longer than I thought you would.” He said with a shake of his head.

"I may be new to the field, but it definitely takes a lot to break me.” She said with a smirk.

“Alright, let's get our Scarlet and Jason back into their places and take it from the top.” The director called out before Y/N and Damon found themselves back on their marks at the beginning of the scene.

After four more takes, the scene had come out flawlessly. Damon and Y/N had managed to go through the scene without any jokes or pranks in the process. The heartbreaking goodbye between Scarlett and Jason perfected before getting a break.

"What do you plan on doing tomorrow?" Damon asked as he and Y/N began to walk off the set.

"I'm not sure. Knowing Mason he might have something planned.” Y/N didn’t miss the way that Damon’s face dropped.

“Well, if the two of you aren’t doing anything, Elena and I are having a barbeque at the rental since she’s coming out here for a visit.” Damon offered.

It definitely wasn’t a secret that Damon didn’t like Mason. There were a few times where the cast and their loved ones got together on their days off. But no matter how many times Damon interacted with Mason, there was always something that gave him a bad vibe.

Damon had grown to care for Y/N as a close friend. With the vibe that he constantly felt coming off of Mason, he was never sure if he should cross those boundaries with her. They were co-stars who were becoming friends. He’d hate to overstep his boundaries by telling Y/N the man she was with wasn’t liked by not just him but a few of the others on set as well.

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” Y/N said with a nod of her head. “How long is she staying for this time?”

“Just for a few days.” As they passed a table with an assortment of food, he reached over and grabbed a doughnut and continued to walk. “The kids are coming since it’s spring break, they can’t stay longer.”

A smile pulled at Y/N’s lips at the mention of Damon’s kids before she chuckled at the way he eyed the doughnut before shoving half of it into his mouth. “I’m sure they are going to love coming out. I can’t wait to see them again.”

“Oh they’ll definitely love that.” He said a moment later. “They just can’t get enough of their favorite new actress.”

Y/N chuckled. “It was the princess role, wasn’t it?”

“Wait, you were a princess?” His words had caused Y/N to smack his arm, causing him to chuckle.

Y/N only had a few titles under her belt. But with the growing success of the movies she’s starred in, the more roles she was being offered. Including one being a Princess that Damon’s kids had watched and loved. That was how he knew Y/N when she introduced herself to him.

“Y/N!” Hearing her name had caused them both to turn and look in the direction of where they heard it.

Seeing as someone was waving her from the hair and makeup trailer, Y/N knew it was time for her to become bloodied and bruised for the next several scenes that she needed to shoot. It made Y/N sigh before she looked over at Damon.

“Back to the chair I go.” She said before she turned to leave.

“Enjoy the prosthetics.” He said with a smirk pulling at his lips. “I just need a touch up.”

“Remember who the hero is in this one, Salvatore.” She called over her shoulder, causing Damon to shake his head quickly.

“I’ll see you for the next scene together, Y/L/N.” He said before walking away.

The sound of the door shutting had caught Mason’s attention. The moment Y/N walked through the doors, there was as if there was this relief that had washed over her. She kicked off her shoes before she walked further into the house, finding Mason lounging on the couch.

Unlike Damon, who had a house he was renting for the time being, Y/N lived close enough to the studio that she wasn't confined to a rental or even her trailer. The last several scenes that were being filmed were no longer on location, giving her the opportunity to unwind in her own home.

"I've got a spot with your name on it that gives a full foot massage." Mason called over his shoulder as his eyes trained on the screen before him.

It caused Y/N to laugh, but she practically ran to the couch and plopped herself on to it. She placed her feet onto Mason's lap as a smile grew on her lips. "Massage away."

"How was your day?" He asked as he brought his hands to her foot and began applying pressure to the bottom of it.

"A lot of retakes." She said as she rested her head on the back of the couch as she watched him. “A lot of stunt work that I tried to be a part of, but didn’t work out.” They both chuckled at the same time. “Thankfully tomorrow we get a day off and I can rest. Speaking of which, Damon invited us over for a barbeque. Elena and the kids will be in town.”

Mason’s eyebrow raised. “You would think the man would want to spend time with his family instead of having people over.”

“He loves showing his kids who he is working with.” Y/N said with a small smile pulling at her lips. “I happen to be their favorite person right now. Plus it would be nice to hang out with everyone without being on set and in make up.”

“I don’t know.” He said with a shake of his head. “I’d like to spend the one day you get off with you. Preferably doing something here or going hiking or something.”

Y/N sighed. “You of all people should know why I need to go to simple barbecues such as this one.”

It sometimes confused her why Mason had been so stubborn about it. She and Mason had been together since she was in college. For as many parties and get togethers she dragged him to, he should have been understanding. This was how she met the friends of friends. Friends who were producers and directors. Ones that were willing to take chances and she was all for being that chance.

“But when it’s the same people you see at work every day?” He asked. “That’s not gaining you anything.”

“Maybe all I need are friends.” She said as she sat up and pulled her feet off of his lap. “Friends are needed too. We both need them. We moved away from all of ours and I know that hasn’t been easy for both of us.”

Mason stood up from his spot and ran his hand through his hair. “Making friends out here is only a convenience once they find out who I’m dating. It’s quite fascinating how many people want to be friends with your boyfriend.”

Y/N looked down. “We talked about this once.” She said after a moment. “I asked you if you’d be able to handle this. I asked several times if you believed you could handle how things are going to change. And each time you said you could. So I’ll ask you once more. Can you handle that our lives are going to change because of the work I will be doing?”

Mason kept his eyes on her as he thought it over for a moment. “I don’t know.”

Y/N nodded her head. She didn’t think that there would ever be a time where Mason had wanted an out. For as long as they had been together, Mason had been there by her side. He helped her run lines for auditions and was there for her through filming, press tours and even premieres.

Through all of those times, she hadn’t felt like he had changed in any way. That he was still going to be by her side and now, there was that part of her that was now worried. Worried that maybe she had been blind to the changes while she was enjoying the time she had while working on different projects.

“Okay.” She said after a moment. “Think it over. Take the time you need to figure out if this is what you really want.” She tried to keep the tears that wanted to form at bay, but it had been hard to do so. “Tomorrow I’ll go to Damon’s for a little bit and then I’ll be home.”

Before Mason could say anything, she began to leave the room. She knew that he was going to need his space. This was something he needed to do on his own and she couldn’t influence his decision. She didn’t want to be the reason that he wasn’t happy there with her. She didn’t want them to begin to hate each other before they broke up.

_____

“What’s your poison?” Damon asked as Y/N as he opened the ice chest filled with a variety of drinks.

She chuckled and reached for the bottle of water that was in there. That had caused Damon to raise his brow while he watched her take it. Seeing his reaction she shrugged. “I have an earlier call time than you do tomorrow. I’d like not to be hungover while sitting in a makeup chair for three hours.”

“Don’t let him fool you.” Elena said as she walked over and grabbed a few of the juices for the kids. “He’s got an early call time too, he'll be bitching in the morning when he has to be hanging from wires and hungover.”

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love that you give me ammunition against your husband?” Y/N said with a grin on her face.

“A time or two.” Elena said with a grin. “Is Mason stopping by later?”

Y/N tried to keep her face from falling. After Y/N left the living room last night, Mason stayed there the whole night. And when Y/N got up this morning, he had been gone. She had no doubt that he was getting a run in or just trying to find somewhere to think about things like Y/N wanted him to.

“He had a few things he needed to take care of.” It wasn’t a lie, since Mason did have things he needed to be doing at that moment. “If he manages to get things done before we call it a night, I’m sure he’ll come.”

“Good.” Damon said with a nod. “Then I can get ammunition from him to use against you.” A smirk pulled at his lips before bringing a bottle of beer to his lips and taking a drink.

Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I highly doubt that. He’s on my side, remember?”

“Ouch.” Damon said looking between her and Elena. “You’ve turned my wife against me and I can’t even get the same opportunity with your boyfriend.” He placed his hand on his chest, feigning hurt.

Y/N could easily see through it, as did Elena. They both knew that Damon was definitely playing nice. He wasn’t going to overstep without actually needing to. While Elena could play it off as girl talk, Damon was hoping that Mason was a no show tonight.

Laughter had come from the adults as they sat around eating their dinner. Several cast and crew had shown up for the evening. Damon and Elena ensuring their guests were completely comfortable. There wasn't a single moment of awkwardness for Y/N and she loved that.

"You missed it, Elena." Lexi said starting up the next conversation. "The prank Y/N had pulled on set was the best I've seen done."

"Please tell me it was on Damon." Elena asked, looking from Lexi to Y/N.

Y/N chuckled and nodded. "Oh it was."

"Now I have to hear this." Elena said as she got herself ready to hear the story.

Lexi began to talk about how Y/N had managed to switch out Damon's designated clothes with another person. Most of them were already used and bloody. It was never something that made Y/N queasy in the slightest. But the way Lexi had been explaining things had made Y/N’s stomach turn. In a way that she could no longer sit there and hope that the feeling would go away.

With a quick ‘excuse me’, Y/N took off towards the house. Her pace was hopefully slow enough that it wouldn’t draw questions, but quick enough that she was sure that she’d make it in time. Her only thought was that was getting to the restroom that was on the first floor of the house.

Even as she entered through the back sliding glass doors, she didn’t notice the men that were in the kitchen chatting away. Their voices blurred out as she passed them. Her mind didn’t even register that Damon had called out to her, asking if she was okay.

She barely had time to shut the door behind her before she made it to the toilet. The contents of her stomach coming up instantly. It hadn’t been the first time today that she had to stop what she was doing and make a run from the restroom. Today wasn’t even the first day either.

As her stomach continued to heave to remove the contents of it, her thoughts had played out the last few days. From the moment that she had taken the test, things had changed rather quickly. While she was in her last week of filming it was how the rest of her life had changed.

She was going to tell Mason last night. She was going to show him the test before they had gone to bed. But then they had their argument and her plans changed. Her mind was racing with how things should be done now. Especially now since she was currently at a barbeque with everyone she works with and the father of her child wasn’t there.

Once her stomach had emptied and there was nothing left to give, she flushed the toilet before making her way over to the sink to not only rinse out her mouth, but to wet her face. She was hoping that she’d be able to calm herself before she left the bathroom. So that she could hopefully play it off as something else. At least for now.

After a few moments of taking some time to get herself in order, she opened the door to head back to everyone else. As she did, she found Damon leaning against the hall besides the entryway of the door. At first there was a look of worry on his face. That was before realization in him hit as he took in her appearance.

His eyes moved from her to down the hallway for a moment, before looking back at her. “I’d ask a stupid question, but I think I know the answer.”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat that seemed to form at his words. “And what is the answer?”

Damon gave a small chuckle. “Elena has been pregnant twice. The water all day while I know for a fact, you can hold yourself when it comes to taking alcohol and an early call time. First clue there. Then it made sense as to what happened during our first take yesterday.”

He wasn’t wrong. During the first take of the day, Y/N needed to make a run for the bathroom. She had pulled it off as something not sitting right with her. It seemed to work with everyone, but it was now enough for Damon to start putting the pieces together.

All Y/N could do was nod in that moment. Words couldn’t form as she tried to pull herself together that the thoughts she had moments before had gone out the window. But there was a part of her that felt relief that someone else knew.

“Mason doesn’t know yet.” She said a moment later. “I was going to tell him last night, but we got into an argument and it just didn’t feel like the right time to tell him.”

“Well, he definitely knows now.” Mason’s voice carried from down the hall.

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fanfickittycat · 3 years

Text

Warmth

TITLE: Warmth

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot

AUTHOR: fanfickittycat

FANDOM: Haikyuu!!

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

GENRE: Romance/Fluff

FIC SUMMARY: You and Wakatoshi get caught in the rain when you wait for him after practice and he is determined to keep you warm

RATING: T (no smut but kinda spicy at the end)

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: nudity and ushijima being blunt af lmao. You can also read it on AO3 here

Ushijima sighed when he saw you, which wasn’t the greeting you had wanted at all. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” You asked, feeling a little hurt. He told you that practise had been extended by a couple of hours and you had insisted on meeting him anyway, taking the opportunity to get some much-needed reading done in the meantime. “I’m always happy to see you” he said, not letting you continue with that train of thought “but I told you not to wait for me.” This was true. Wakatoshi was never one to mince words, always saying exactly what he meant, even if it was over text. “I thought it would be nice. We always hang out on Fridays.” You felt dejected now, and worst, embarrassed by how desperate you were to see him. You looked down at your shoes which were still damp from the rain and tried to silence the sad thudding of your heart. He was quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but you wished he would say something to ease the aching in your chest. “I don’t like when you’re out late” he said plainly “it’s dark, and all this rain isn’t good for you.” You huffed “I’m fine.” Ushijima always seemed to see you as smaller than you really were; fragile and bearing a label that said, ‘to be handled with the utmost care’. He would never let you clamber on the counter in search of something on the top shelf; always insist you wore a scarf when there was even the slightest chill in the air; and even if you were just tipsy off of wine, he’d make you drink a full glass of water. He was sweet but overbearing at times. “I don’t want you to get sick.” “I just wanted to do something nice for you” you mumbled, feeling yourself stiffen and then relax when he petted your head. “I don’t doubt your intentions” he said, and you peeked up at him, finally looking him in the eyes again “I appreciate it.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks flush despite the temperature drop from the evening’s rainstorm. He smiled too, letting his hand cup your cheek. It was warm, and rough from practise, but he cradled the side of your face like it was something precious. His thumb stroked over your skin softly, and you leaned into his touch happily like a cat.

“Come, let’s go.” He said, taking your umbrella from you and shaking it out. He opened it before taking your hand in his to walk to his apartment. It was a short distance away, but the rain was relentless, and the added gusts of wind made it worst. You winced, as the wind whipped your cheeks, and the stray raindrops wet your back, making you shiver. You heard Ushijima mutter something under his breath and looked up to see his teeth clenched as the wind forced the umbrella to fly up and turn inside out. He took his hand off yours to try and close it and open it properly, but the elements had taken your red umbrella and promptly battered it, making it impossible to open smoothly again.

“Let’s wait there” Ushijima pointed to an awning that hung over a closed store, and you rushed to be out of the rain. “Toshi…” you watched him struggle to work the umbrella again “I think it’s broken.” He joined you in looking down at the broken metal rib of the umbrella and pressed his lips together momentarily. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.” “It’s okay” you reached out to touch his arm “you’re soaked.” He looked down at you apologetically. “You are too.” He blinked when you giggled at your shared predicament. “We’re nearly at your apartment” you pointed out “we should run.” He raised an eyebrow “how will you keep up with me?” This was harsh but true. You weren’t built to run like he was, he actually trained, you just lay in bed and scrolled through Twitter. “I have a better plan” he announced, going to throw your umbrella in a nearby bin before returning to you. You watched as he shrugged off his sports jacket and handed it to you. “But Toshi!” “Put it on. You need it more than I do.” You knew he wouldn’t let up, so you conceded, putting your arms through and zipping it up. Only the tops of your fingers peeked out of the sleeves, and the bottom of the jacket brushed your knees. You felt ridiculous but the newfound warmth eclipsed it easily. “Here” he leaned down, squatting nearly to the floor. “Ummmm…” He turned his head so you could see one of his dark eyes “climb on my back. It’s more efficient than you running beside me.” You nearly choked on your saliva when he said that. You had never gotten a piggyback ride from Wakatoshi before, you weren’t even sure he knew the phrase ‘piggyback ride’. Gingerly, you put you secured your hands on his shoulders, feeling shy suddenly. You squeaked when his hand gripped the underside of your thigh, and he hoisted the two of you up. “Wow. You’re really tall” you said dumbly, looking down at the pavement from his height. No wonder he was always so concerned about you, you must have looked tiny to him. “I’m below the average height for spikers” he informed you patiently, but he couldn’t deny the swell of pride he got whenever you were in awe of his physicality.

“Ready?” he asked, adjusting his bag so that it wouldn’t be too much of a bother for you. You squeezed his shoulder in confirmation, holding on tighter as you felt him tense before breaking into a run. The rain hit instantly, soaking Ushijima’s jacket again, and the wind was persistently thrashing your hair, but it was exhilarating. You couldn’t help but break into a fit of laughter as you clung to your boyfriend. It wasn’t something you could explain. The rain lashing against you, the wind raging, the utter absurdity of the situation, the feeling of Toshi being so close to you. It was a heady, hysterical mix. When Wakatoshi bent down for you to climb off his back you almost stumbled, still giggling a little as you did so.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself” he said, putting his key in the door. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed that hard” you said, shivering as you followed him to the lifts. He took your hands in his and breathed on them, rubbing his palms against the tops of your hands to warm you up. He led you into the lift, clicking the 3 before resuming his task again. “We’ll have to do it again” he said, “I like hearing you like that.” “Toshi” you mumbled his name, feeling butterflies spawn in your stomach again.

“Come, let’s get you warmed up” he said, pulling you towards his door. He opened it, ushering you in before closing the door. He was so methodical in his actions. With a practised hand he tossed his keys into the bowl by the door and hung his bag up. You unzipped his jacket, and he took it from you to hang up alongside his bag. “T-Toshi, what’re you doing?” you choked, watching as he pulled his shirt off. It wasn’t as though you’d never seen him shirtless before, you had been intimate with him many times, but it never failed to make your brain malfunction when you saw the smooth planes of pale muscle. You struggled to form a coherent word when he tugged off his sweatpants, looking curiously at your warm face. “One of the easiest ways to develop a cold is from staying in wet clothes” he informed, approaching you to unbutton your blouse. Your breath hitched as he undid each button carefully, not wanting a repeat of the time he pulled too hard and broke half the buttons on your shirt. You had to go home the next day in one of his t-shirts and a promise to buy you a new one, but you hadn’t minded too much, instead declaring that you should get to keep the t-shirt as compensation instead. He hadn’t argued against that and now you slept in it. “It is imperative that we shower as soon as possible” he said, tugging your jeans down, you leaned one hand on his shoulder as you stepped out of them. His hot breath against your thigh almost made your knees weak, causing you to grip him harder. You were almost afraid to let go of him when he remerged, holding a bundle of your shared wet laundry. “I’ll put these to dry, you start the shower” he said nonchalantly, turning to put them on the drying rack, as though the two of you weren’t stripped down to your underwear.

You tiptoed to the bathroom, starting the shower as you usually would, straightening up when you heard him pad towards you. “Do you want to go first?” You asked, feeling the water. “It’s more efficient if we go together” he said directly, he looked at your face “why are you shy? We’ve seen each other naked before.” You cringed “yeah but…” you struggled to justify your bashfulness, hooking your thumbs into your panties and nervously bringing them down your damp legs. “Here” he unclipped your bra expertly after seeing you struggle to do it with your numb fingers. Wakatoshi stepped into the shower first and then offered his hand to you to hold as you got in. The warm water was a welcome relief, but you couldn’t feel that much of it because Ushijima was in front of you. “Come here” he took the shower head down and sprayed you directly whilst you lathered your hands with soap. He hummed happily when you began to massage it into his taut arms, working your way up to his neck which you could barely reach, and then down his pectorals. “Toshi” you huffed, as your soapy hands pressed against his abs. He affixed the shower head and looked down at you. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” “No. Yes. I mean yes.” You cleared your throat, quickly stopping his hand from reaching for the shampoo “kiss” you said urgently, clawing at his abdomen for him to come down to you. He complied, leaning down and capturing your lips lightly with his. He made a soft groan into your mouth when you pushed yourself closer to him, tangling your digits in his wet, olive hair. His own hands curled around your waist, and your thighs pressed together as the warm stream of water flowed down his arms and then the back of your legs. You pulled away and smiled at his red, dumbstruck face “thanks for always keeping me warm, Toshi”.

#updates #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfickittycat #warmth #haikyu #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #anime fanfic #ushijima hc

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reidamancy · 4 years

Text

ghost of you || spencer reid

summary: You helplessly witness Spencer cope with a loss on the anniversary of the event, unable to help him. (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)

category: angst

warnings: death

word count: 2.8k

a/n: wow apparently i only know how to write angst lmao i’m sorry in advance

MASTERLIST

It’s been a year since the incident. You knew the anniversary would be especially hard for Spencer, so you wanted to be with him today.

You slipped onto your side of the bed and watched his chest rise and fall as he lightly snored. You studied his face and noticed how peaceful he looked. That’s all you wished for him. To be at peace. But you knew that once he was conscious, his emotions would take over his mind like a violent storm.

You reached out and brushed your hand through his curls. He stirred, shocking you. You sat back as you watched his eyes flutter open. His eyes were glossy as they stared at you. No words were exchanged, but it felt as if the two of you deeply connected in that moment.

You reached out to hold his cheek, but he stayed still. You bit your lip, wanting to say something but you knew it wouldn’t make a difference. You rubbed your thumb along his cheekbone as you cradled his face in your palm. The two of you stayed there for a while. You, silently comforting him, and him staring back at you emptily.

This was not what wanted, but there was nothing you could do to change it.

After a while, he slowly got out of bed and started getting ready for the day. You stayed in bed, hands folded across your stomach as you stared at the ceiling. You wished things were different. You wished you could go back in time, just to relive that moment. But, knowing what you did now, you wouldn’t have changed the outcome.

Before you could recount the events that happened one year ago today, Spencer emerged from the shower. You turned around as he was getting dressed. Once he was done, he quickly grabbed his keys and left his apartment, with you trailing right behind him.

He called Hotch to ask him for the day off. It was an unusual request from Reid, but one look at the calendar and Hotch understood. He knew the significance of today, so he let Reid off the hook and wished him well.

Spencer left a space next to him when he walked. You eagerly filled it, remembering what it was like before the incident. You smiled as your arms occasionally bumped during the walk, but Spencer didn’t feel it. With his head down and hands in his pockets, he was deep in thought. And you wanted nothing more than to pull him away from his swirling mind.

Before you knew it, you were in front of the library the two of you frequented. You let out a sigh and placed a hand on his shoulder. He shivered as he walked in.

You aimlessly followed him for the next hour. He roamed around the library, picking up random books, flicking through the pages, then returning them to their shelves. It wasn’t until you saw the titles that you realized his choices were anything but random. He had chosen your favorite books; they were your favorites because they were his recommendations that you read for the first time in this very library.

There were copies of all these books at home, with your handwriting adorning the margins. You had left little notes to yourself and Spencer if either of you decided to reread them. Spencer had reread these books multiple times just to see your comments and reactions to the plot, how you circled words you didn’t know and highlighted your favorite parts. His eidetic memory had seared these books into his mind, but the notes you left felt new every time he read them.

After placing the last book back on the bookshelf, he stared at one of the library tables. You followed his gaze and realized it was your table. The table the two of you would sit at every time you came here. You smiled at all the memories that occurred there. You walked over and took your usual seat, knowing he’d follow.

When he sat down, he took a deep breath. You could hear the sadness in his exhale and you fought the urge to reach out and hold his hands. But your hands stayed glued to your lap.

He looked everywhere but you. His eyes scanned the room as if he was memorizing this moment, but you knew his mind was somewhere else.

“Y/N,” he croaked. It was barely audible, and it was the first time you heard his voice today.

“I’m here, Spence.” You shot him a smile.

He lowered his eyes and sniffled.

You knew you had to get him out of here, this place was too painful. “Let’s get some coffee,” you urged. Spencer stayed in his seat.

You stared at the young doctor as he played with his hands. Spencer sat there for a while. You could only assume he was soaking in this library and all the memories associated with it. When his first tear fell, he knew he had to leave. He swiped away the tear as quick as it came and hurriedly left the library, with you following him to his next destination.

His feet must have had a mind of their own because he looked bewildered when he saw the front door of the coffee shop the two of you would go to every morning. This shop was on your way to work, and Spencer needed his daily caffeine fix so it only made sense. The bell on top of the door dinged as he entered. The comforting smell of coffee surrounded Spencer as he got up to the counter and ordered his usual. He took a seat by the window, and you sat down across from him. As he was waiting for his order he heard the barista call out, “One caramel macchiato!”

You smiled at each other. That was your order. But the two of you stayed in your seats with sad smiles as you watched a woman pick up her macchiato and leave the shop. You turned back towards Spencer and saw he was staring at something. You followed his eyes to the sugar table. In that moment you knew what he was thinking and you smiled, remembering the same thing.

“Spencer!” You gaped at your boyfriend, staring at your drink that was now splattered across the floor. You had dropped it just as soon as you got it after colliding into Spencer.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N!” He laughed. He dropped down to the floor and started wiping up the mess with napkins.

As he got back on his feet, you lightly smacked his shoulder. “It’s not funny!” You looked at your watch. “We need to be at work in 10 minutes.”

“Here, you can have mine.”

You eyed him carefully. “You’re giving up your caffeine?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

He laughed again. “I think you need it more than me.”

You took his cup into your hands and took a sip. You grimaced as the bitter liquid hit your tongue. “Jesus Christ, how can you drink this?!”

You emptied sugar packet after sugar packet into Spencer’s black coffee, never completely satisfied with the taste.

“Y/N, we have to go!”

“Well we wouldn’t be late if someone didn’t make me drop my coffee.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Come on, there’s got to be a three-inch layer of sugar in that cup by now.”

You looked him directly in the eyes as you emptied another packet into the cup.

“Y/N!” He giggled.

You couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Okay, okay let’s go!”

“Hotch is going to kill us.” Spencer laughed as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pressed a quick kiss on your cheek.

You smiled at the memory, remembering it as if it were yesterday. Then you looked over to Spencer and saw his lip quivering. You sighed and placed your hand on his. He didn’t feel it.

His order was called and he quickly went up to get it. He gave the barista a quick thank you and made his way out of the shop. Across from the coffee shop was a florist. Spencer almost smiled at the convenience. He took one look at the sign and decided it was time. You followed him as Spencer crossed the road and made his way into the flower shop.

He took his time and slowly passed by all the flowers, basking in their scent. You trailed behind him, occasionally reaching out to the flowers that caught your eye. By the time he reached the cashier, he decided to buy a bouquet of carnations. White for innocence, red for love, and pink for remembrance.

After leaving the flower shop, each step Spencer took felt heavy. He decided against using the subway because he needed more time. He was stalling and he knew it. He wasn’t sure if he was ready, and he needed to gather his thoughts and emotions. So he took the long way, walking the entire distance. You walked next to Spencer, watching his face, trying to read his thoughts. But he was unreadable. So you walked in silence as you got closer and closer to your destination.

The two of you entered the cemetery and you took a deep breath. Spencer’s lip was caught in between his teeth. You held his hand in attempt to comfort him but that didn’t calm his nerves. He wandered around the cemetery, unsure of where to go, until he found the grave he was looking for.

Y/N Y/L/N

He took a deep breath and sat down in front of your headstone. You smiled as you welcomed him for the first time.

He gently placed the flowers against your grave and cleared his throat. “Hi Y/N.” His voice was weak and barely above a whisper.

You leaned on the stone and smiled. “Hi Spence.”

Tears began to steadily fall down his cheeks. You frowned as you got up to wipe them away. “No, please don’t cry.” You said as you crouched in front of him and held his face in your hands. You swiped your thumb across his cheeks, but your finger made no difference as the tears continued their descent down his face. It was an aching reminder of your phantom form. You sighed as you sat back against your headstone and watched your lover, unable to hold him despite your deepest desires.

He looked at the ground. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t at your funeral. I couldn’t bring myself to come.” Spencer choked on a sob. “It was just too painful.”

You smiled and nodded. “I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“I... I hope it wasn’t disrespectful. I love, loved, you more than anything, Y/N. But I wasn’t ready. I’m still not. You were gone too soon.”

You felt your own eyes fill with tears.

“And I’m sorry I haven’t said goodbye... I haven’t even acknowledged your death because,” Spencer trailed off. He blinked the tears out of his eyes and bit his lip. “Because sometimes I feel like you’re still with me.”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, but he couldn’t feel it. “I am. I always will be.” You said through tears.

“I haven’t touched anything. Our room is still the same. I leave a space for you on your side of the bed. Your side of the bathroom is still the same.” Spencer let out a sad laugh. “That can’t be healthy considering it’s been so long, but I just can’t explain it Y/N.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I loved you and I can’t believe you’re gone.” His voice cracked and tears were now streaming down your cheeks.

“I love you too, Spencer. So much.”

“You know, its common in many belief systems that spirits cannot move on from our realm until all its goodbyes are made. I hope I’m not keeping you here.”

You smiled and laughed. “It’s okay, I like watching over you.”

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to do this. I just didn’t want it to be real. But it’s been long enough, and I need to face reality.” Spencer hung his head and sighed. “It’s selfish of me. I’m still trying to hold on to you, but you deserve to move on. Wherever you are, I hope you are at peace. That’s all I want for you.”

You scoffed. “You first.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “I know it looks bad... For someone who’s claimed to love you I haven’t really shown it since you died... But you have to know how much I love you. You had to know while you were still alive, and that’s what matters.” He was choking on his sobs as you silently cried.

“I know, I know Spencer. God, I wish I could tell you how much I love you.”

“Y/N, I couldn’t deal with your death for so long because I needed a future with you. I made plans, right after that case. I was so sure, Y/N.” Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. You gasped as you covered your mouth to stop the sobs from escaping you, not that he would have heard them.

He opened the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. He sniffled and said, “I got this before we went on that case. I held onto it the entire time, just in case. I was going to take you out once we got back. But you never came back with me.” Spencer sobbed freely now and you joined him. The fact that he had the ring with him in your final moments broke your heart.

“Oh my God, Spencer...” You cried into your hand, heart aching at the future you could have had with the love of your life.

“I’ve been carrying it around with me ever since. I know, it’s not healthy, I mean, it’s been a year. But it’s a constant reminder of you, Y/N. You’re always on my mind. Or at least, in my pocket.”

You let out a small chuckle between your tears. You couldn’t believe it. You moved towards Spencer and straddled his lap. You sobbed as you held his face in your hands. Spencer made no movement as he stared at your headstone. Unbeknownst to him, you were littering his face with kisses as you hugged him tightly. “I love you so much, Spencer Reid.”

Spencer stared at the ring and sighed. "It should have been me.” He cried.

You shook your head. “No, Spencer I’d take a bullet for you any day. You deserve the happiest life,” You rested your forehead against his. “And the world needs you, genius.” You smiled to yourself as you imagined how his skin would feel against yours in this moment.

He wiped the tears off his cheeks and stood up. You got up with him and stood next to him. He was staring at your headstone. You wrapped your arms around one of his and leaned your head on his shoulder. You sighed, wishing you could breathe in his scent and feel his warmth right now.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say goodbye, Y/N. I miss you. More than you’ll ever know.”

He crouched down and pulled some of the grass out of the way. He used his hands to dig up some dirt and placed the closed box into the shallow hole he made. He buried your encased ring and patted down the dirt. “Goodbye... my wife.”

You let out a whimper. You let your mind imagine flashes of a life where you marry Spencer, which only intensified your cries. Then, you looked down at your grave and saw a bright light emitting from it. The ground shifted as a portal-like door appeared in front of you. You looked to Spencer in confusion, but he seemed unfazed as he continued to stare at your grave. You were the only one who could see it. Realization hit that this must be the other side. Your last tie to the mortal world had just been severed and it was time to move on.

You looked back at Spencer and felt tears fall down your face. “Spence. I know you can’t hear me but I need you to listen. Please. Catch all the unsubs for me. Find a pretty girl. Start a family. Do everything we would have done and live your life. We’ll meet again... my husband.” You kissed him right on the lips, sobbing at the empty feeling you got once your lips made contact. He looked straight ahead, unaware of your affection.

You turned and faced the door, now glowing with immense brightness. You stepped closer to it, anxious to meet what was waiting for you on the other side. You turned around, looking at Spencer’s face one last time, then stepped into the brightness.

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rosaetae · 4 years

Text

no sweetness | preview

☇ “It’s funny because you remind me exactly of this drink I made last night. Yeah, yeah, it was the black tea with boba. Bitter, with tiny balls.”

➣ pairing: reader x jungkook

➣ genre: fluff, comedy, bobarista!reader, lacrosseplayer!jungkook, e2l!au lmaosooo

➣ word count: 2.1k

➣ a/n: just poppin’ in here as your reminder to support small businesses and also if anyone would like to make my design title header graphic thing for this story, that’d be greatly appreciated bc i’m lazy lmao

➣ summary: jungkook has a thing for pretty girls who work with tiny balls, especially the new fiery bobarista at his favorite boba shop, whom he finds absolutely adorable, but finds out later that she’s just as sweet as she made his milk tea order— not sweet.

Jeon Jungkook is absolutely whipped as cream.

Why, you may ask?

His favorite boba shop at the very edge of the outskirt of town hired a new bobarista, and her name—supposedly— being ___. Jungkook made it a mental note to ask for it when he goes into Pleasantea with his friends, but word goes around and it out of the many words there are in the world, it's her name that catches his ear.

It is no doubt that Jeon Jungkook comes off as a flirt to every living species he encounters, but seeing that the new bobarista wasn't as happily taking it in as most people would, he was shocked that someone didn't have much interest into him. Sure, call him egotistical, but he was captain of the lacrosse team and he was pretty damn good at almost— well, everything.

The first time he goes into Pleasantea after hearing the news of a new duckling in training was after another win that Friday night. He's there with his group of friends, raiding the popular boba place with cheers while greeting the familiar workers behind the bar.

On Friday nights, it's Luna, Dahlia, and Jihyo working the closing shift, making the drinks and providing impeccable service, especially to the rowdy group of college students that come in almost every Friday to hangout or just to celebrate. Luna's pretty good with taming them down, especially when other customers are there. Dahlia likes to yell at them— she likes to yell at people in general. And Jihyo nurtures them like babies.

They've gotten close to Jungkook as Luna happened to be in his communications class first semester. He recognized her first, but Luna, being oblivious in all ranges of settings, faked a recognization of his name and face, and gave him a discount anyways. Because of this tiny occurrence, Jungkook came back, then with friends, and eventually with his whole lacrosse team to support the business.

"I'm guessing another win, Team Captain?" Jihyo rhetorically yelled over the cheering voices towards Jungkook who followed behind the group with a smirk. Her doe eyes peeks over the bar where her height was significant from the taller men on the other side, eyebrows raised and awaiting for the cocky response Jungkook can muster.

"What can I say?" Jungkook laughed sonorously, followed by a few encouraging and prideful pats on the shoulder from his teammates. "Wouldn't show up tonight with the boys if I didn't make that winning shot."

Rolling her eyes at the sound of the booming, testosterone-filled voices of his teammates and his vibrant ego, Jihyo scoffed away to work on other orders that Luna and Dahlia were speedily making before Jungkook's teammates and good friends come up to him, ready to order their drinks.

"What should I get?" Yoongi asked Jungkook, eyes scanning the menu of different drinks.

"Dunno. Get the usual," Jungkook advised, crossing his arms over his chest as he pondered what he should get too. "Your matcha milk tea with boba."

"Aight," Yoongi nods before he paused. The pause wasn't obvious enough for Jungkook to look his way, until Yoongi went ahead and nudged Jungkook, taking his complete attention away from the menu. "New worker."

"Hi, welcome!" That odd cheery voice didn't seem to come from the usual cashier he knew as Luna, nor Dahlia, throwing him off a bit. He does a double take behind the counter, finding a girl hurriedly filling a cup up with boba before she's running to the cashier, doe-like eyes widening in surprise at how many people she has to take orders of.

Her eyes catch Jungkook's, and it immediately clicked in his head that the word circling about the new Pleasantea worker were true. Pretty much all of them were aware, but it didn't seem to catch their attention as much as it caught his. Maybe it's the unfamiliarity of having someone foreign in a place he likes to call a second home. Maybe it's the odd satisfaction of meeting the so-called bobarista who's name somehow runs laps around his brain. Really, he was merely curious.

"What can I get you guys?" She asked with a warm smile. Jungkook's worked at a retail shop before, and he can tell good customer service apart from just a single sentence.

Jungkook peered over at the boys, watching Yoongi motioning at the others to go order, but seeing that they were also too busy eye-goggling the new girl behind the counter out of curiosity, Yoongi let out a sigh and ordered first. A smile bursted on the new girl's face when she's nodding to Yoongi's order. Her eyebrows furrowed as she works the register all before Yoongi whipped out his trusty credit card and does the procedural routine of inserting the card, tipping, signing, and saying "no thanks" to the receipt, dropping in a spare dollar or two into their "college funds" tip jar.

The boys filed in line after they've decided on what they wanted that night all while Jungkook started to overthink what he wanted to get.

Jungkook likes to change up his drink from time to time. After practices, he'd like something more refreshing to quickly chug down. After later practices, he'd get something more caffeinated to keep him awake for a night full of assignments. After games, it depends on the outcome of the prior— losing, he wouldn't order anything. Winning, however, he likes Pleasantea bobaristas to choose for him.

It's a good thing they won tonight.

When the line of his teammates dispersed and they all maneuvered into the back where their usual spot was, Jungkook realized it was his turn already. He didn't notice that he let all the boys go in front of him on purpose and he was the last of the group to order. However, he does take mental note of how New Girl keeps up a good face after each customer, something that Dahlia lacks because each customer removes a layer of her niceness as they come and go.

Jungkook slides closer to the register, his eyes never leaving hers as her own form into crescents— a silent, but welcoming greeting.

"Hi, what can I get for you?"

His lips forms a smile to hear her voice clear as day. "Do you think you can surprise me?"

The favor evidently takes her by surprise before she lets out a laugh, nodding. "Yeah, I can. Is there anything you're craving specifically?"

"Nope," he shakes his head. "You new?"

She smiles in return. "Yeah. Yesterday was my first day. Still getting a hang of it."

"You got a favorite drink..." Jungkook dragged out his sentence to look at her name badge, realizing that her name really was what he has been told. "___?"

The bobarista hums in thought before she lazily shrugs. "I haven't had many drinks, yet, but I really like the plain milk tea."

"I'll just get that then. Large, boba, light ice."

She nods as she puts it into the register as Jungkook patted his black jeans, searching his pockets for his wallet. In his head, he's pondering about the amount of tips to tip her.

"Sweetness level?"

Jungkook, without even processing he's said it, goes, "you." It takes him by surprise just as much as it took her, but he decides to roll with it. He even mentally pats himself, because damn, that was pretty smooth of him. He noticed that her fingers paused in tapping on the pad, just before meeting his expression consisting of a (douchebag) smirk and kind eyes. She raised her eyebrows before letting out a light chuckle, shaking her head.

"Cute," is all she said before placing the order and directing him to insert his card. As Jungkook mentally fist bumps himself, he decided to tip her the ten dollar bill laying in his wallet into the tip jar, before she glanced up at him with crescent eyes once more. "Your order will be ready at the other end of the counter."

As Jungkook thanked her, he lingered for a bit as she disappeared behind the bar where she met the three other girls shuffling around to finish the end of the night shift with dozens of customers waiting inside and outside. He shoved his wallet into the back of his pocket as he met up with the boys who took up the entire back of the shop where a long table basically welcomed them with open arms.

"What you get this time, Captain?" Jaehyun made a single nod towards Jungkook.

"Just their milk tea," Jungkook responded.

Jungkook has had the plain milk tea before. It's what Pleasantea was known for. It's their signature drink. A roasted flavor with just the right amount of sweetness with just 75% sugar. However, responding with reference to her as a sweetness, it might be a bit sweeter with just 100%. But it doesn't matter. He managed to get a "cute" from the new bobarista at Pleasantea and he intends to share it with his lacrosse team.

"New worker called me cute."

Jaehyun let out a snort, while Yoongi excitedly leaned in to add onto the list of other cringe-worthy pickup lines Jungkook says to girls. "Did you make another boba pick-up line? Remember when you tried to flirt with Dahlia but ended up only getting roasted by her?"

"Yeah, well, ___ called me cute. She just asked how sweet I wanted my drink to be," he explained. "I answered back with, 'you'."

It's the shove and nudge coming from both directions and the bursted balloon that held crazy laughter coming from not only Jaehyung, but Yoongi and Jaemin who listened to the terrible conversation they were most grateful to not have witnessed first hand. Jungkook grinned widely, pushing off his teammates who were disgusted by such a revolting experience.

"God, you are terrible," Yoongi covered his face with his hands, hiding from sheer embarrassment as Jungkook chuckled broadly. "I hope she spits in your drink because that was god awful."

"She thought it was cute, actually," Jungkook tooted his own horn— something he loved doing. Cocky isn't a pleasant trait on him, but he somehow makes it work.

Jaemin shook his head in mild distaste. "Man, get the fuck out of here."

."Boys!"

The familiar sound of Jihyo calling out a broad name as an endearment to the only boys that she has a love and hate relationship with catches the lacrosse teams' ears, having them get up in excitement. Half of the table decides to go while the other half stays and saves the spot, wanting to spend about half an hour there to settle.

It takes them a minute or two to have all of them come back with max two drinks in hand and while half of the boys passed out the variety of drinks to the others who saved their spot, Jungkook scrolls through his phone as Jaemin places his drink in front of him, a straw on top. Like second nature, Jungkook grabs the straw and stabs the plastic wrap, his jaw preparing to chew the sweet goodness of tapioca pearls.

However, it's not that that he was anticipating prior that made him furrow his eyebrows at the taste. It was the odd flavor that came before the pearls that made him retract the drink from his mouth to look at the label of what type of drink he got.

At first, he furrowed his eyebrows because he thought he had received the wrong drink. But it's in the middle of wanting to ask Jaemin if the drink he got actually belong to him, that he realized where he fucked up. Jaemin was curious as well, arching an eyebrow and turning the cup to its side to see if Jaemin actually grabbed the wrong drink.

It's the hysterical laughter coming from Jaemin's mouth ringing in the air that made Jungkook's lips part, but in all honestly, Jungkook wasn't as surprised. He watches his teammate share the cup around, laughter suddenly becoming louder at what has been witnessed— a rise and downfall of their own team captain.

The mocking sniggering that dispersed into air echoed throughout the boba shop's walls and inevitably, the new bobarista girl must be hearing it crystal clear, probably a playful smile on her lips as she heard the laughter grow at her own doing.

Eventually, Jungkook snatched the drink back and chugs it down anyways, shaking his head. Each time he took a sip, he looks at the side of his cup and wrinkles his nose in disdain.

MLK TEA. LESS ICE. 0% SWEET.

#jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook comedy #bomedy!#ahahah i worked at a boba place once and i have come up with this concoction #anyways lmk what ur fav boba drink is #my head hurts #anyways #bts #bts scenarios #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #enemies2lovers

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knives-out20 · 3 years

Text

Discrepancy - Dean Corso x Male!OC - #3

Fandom: The Ninth Gate (1999)

Pairing: Ambrósio ‘Ambrose’ Fargas (OC) x Dean Corso

Warnings: Swearing, Faggotry, Spoilers for The Ninth Gate, Flirting, Homoerotism, Sexual phone stuff but not phone sex y’know, Ambrósio has no chill and knows no bounds y’all,

Notes: what is going ON y’all....lmao

Dean lay on the bed of his hotel room in Paris, talking to Ambrósio over the phone. "Ambrósio, how are you holding up?"

"I'm lying down if that answers your question, Dean" Ambrósio answered, definitely wearing a shit-eating grin.

Lying down, Dean thought. "What're you doing?"

"Oh, I dunno...talking to some shady book dealer over the telephone."

"I'm shady?" Dean chuckled. "First I'm out of place, and now I'm shady?"

"Yea, man, what the fuck is with your fucking gray hairs around your ears, you got premature graying or something?" Ambrósio inquired, squinting a bit.

"Have you just been thinking about the hairs around my ears lately?"

"I've been thinking of more than the hair around your ears, Dean."

"My facial hair?" Dean teased.

"More than your hair, man."

Dean grinned, "ever the flirt?"

"I try my best, Corso." Ambrósio rubbed his thigh, biting the edge of his lip.

"You been, uh...back at the house, as of late?"

Ambrósio shrugged. "Carmen let me go back to check it out with her really buff boyfriend, like, wrestler-type buff, Jeronimo's huge."

"Is he setting some high expectations up for me?"

Ambrósio decided to mess with Dean. He put on a puzzled tone, "who said they're for you?"

This caught Dean off-guard, like Ambrósio wanted it to. "Oh- uh, nothing, I just- all this had led me to assume-"

"Chill, man, calm down, I'm playing around" Ambrósio giggled. "It felt a bit...grim, but that's obvious, y'know? I mean, with...the reason why I'm staying with my friends in the first place."

"Yea."

A moment of silence struck the two before Ambrósio asked Dean another question. "Where are you right now?"

Dean's gaze darted around his hotel room. "In a hotel."

"Central?"

Dean slowly licked his lips in thought. "Uhh...Sure." He nodded, pulling out a slip of paper and a pen. "I'm staying at this Hotel Central place nearby, in this room. You can reach me there if you're specific."

"No, no. Out of the country." Dean corrected him.

Ambrósio scoffed, "yea, so where are you?"

"France. Ever been?"

"You offering?"

"Again?"

"I'm assuming that's a no."

Ambrósio broke out into a smile as he leaned back in his seat. "Does adoption not exist in America, or wherever?" He giggled. "I'm adopted, half-Pakistani."

"Ever been?"

"You offering?" Ambrósio joked.

"Don't lose hope" Dean smiled. "If I grow to like you enough, decide I need some sort of companionship in my life, I'll reach out."

"You make it seem like it'll be a privilege to me, to be able to hang out with you. It's quite the opposite."

"Oh, really?"

"Yea. It'll be a privilege to you, or rather anyone, to hang out with me, Ambrósio Fargas."

"That's true. Any new up-comings with your..uh...grandfather?"

"Mmh." Ambrósio hummed in a gloomy way. "Jeronimo has an uncle that's in the funeral business. He'll help with all the funeral stuff for my Avô."

"Wish I could come."

"It's like you want to be out of place, Dean, jeez" Ambrósio laughed.

Dean liked listening to Ambrósio's laughter, even more-so since he caused it. He assumes he just liked that he was able to make Ambrósio smile during this suddenly-dark time in his life, given the abrupt death of Victor and all.

Ambrósio and Dean got hit with another moment of comfortable silence. It seemed to be a running thing between the two men.

"You still lying down?"

"On my bed in Carmen's guest bedroom, yea. Why? You gonna ask me what I'm wearing?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you're still wearing that red shirt."

"I have a damn washing machine, Dean" Ambrósio licked his lips. "It's unbuttoned just like the first time you saw it."

"You wearing those gray pants, too? With the stripes?"

Ambrósio hummed his answer, meaning a 'no." "I'm wearin' some shorts, actually. Switching things up, today. What're you wearing, Corso?"

"Same things from the day you first saw me."

"Not one for changes, eh?" Ambrósio questioned. "Well, no. You probably are, given that Balkan's making you go here 'n' there around the globe for some old books 'n'...whatever. Y'know?"

"Yea," Dean nodded. "I'm really sorry, too, Ambrósio. About your grandfather. I never meant for this to happen to him, I didn't anticipate it like you did, but anticipation really has nothing to do with it." He explained. "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing. My Avô was old as hell anyway, Dean. He was bound to go sometime, but I just...not so soon. He was a good man."

"I'm sure he was, he seemed like it."

Ambrósio smiled. "You're a good man, too."

"Really?"

"Yea." Ambrósio nodded. "You, you- you didn't need to give me your hotel number that night you first came, you didn't need to come inside the house to call for me the other day. You didn't need to make sure I was okay, and gonna be okay. You didn't need to make sure I had some place to stay, or ask for Carmen's number in order to reach me. Hell, you don't need to be talking to me right now" he listed out, admittedly blushing a bit.

"But...I am."

"But you are, exactly. You added me into your little equation when you had the choice to leave me in your memories as Fargas' pretty, queer grandkid."

"'Pretty'?" Dean repeated.

"I'm fucking divine, Dean, it's in my name. Meanwhile, Dean means like...'valley.'"

"Would you describe me as a valley, Ambrose?"

"A valley of weird gray hairs, some round glasses, dark academia, and an angular face."

"You think my face is angular?"

"In a good way, pretty boy."

Dean smirked to himself, dragging his free hand slowly down the side of his face. "You think I'm pretty, too?"

"I thought the flirting made it obvious."

"I'm more than a pretty face, y'know" Dean sassed.

"Well, duh. I'm not shallow" Ambrósio scoffed. "I like when we talk, too, and not just for your voice-"

"You like my voice?"

"I've told you this before!"

Ambrósio chortled. "I don't only listen to Hendrix and Foreigner, Dean, Jesus Christ."

"Who else do you listen to?"

Ambrósio stepped back, towards his staircase. "I could listen to you. You sound like you could do a number on people if you sing."

Dean knowingly shook his head, looking down to hide his smile. "I don't sing, but...thanks."

Dean hummed in agreement. "You mentioned reciting poetry, when I met you."

"Yessir."

"What writers do you like?"

"Aw, damn, uh..." Ambrósio scratched his jaw in thought. "Baudelaire, definitely. And JP Marquand, Oscar Wilde, and Lord Byron. To name a few."

"Quite an array."

"You like?"

"I wouldn't shy away from the names. It's an impressive list."

"Thank you, I know." Ambrósio smiled, proud of himself.

"You still lying down?"

"Yea, what're you doing?"

"Lying down, on my hotel room's bed, talking to the dreamy, divine grandson of Victor Fargas." Dean flirted, stroking his beard.

Ambrósio poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "I am dreamy."

"You really are."

"So..."

"So?"

"So, we're just both lying down, on our beds, talking to each other over the telephone?"

"Why, would you rather be doing something else, with somebody else?" Dean joked.

Ambrósio raised his eyebrows. "I'd rather be doing something else that involves being on a bed, with you...Doing a far more scandalous activity than just talking."

Dean fought back a grin, looking over at the wall. "You're on quite the roll, huh?"

"Whether it be the romantic poets I indulge in, or my natural-born charm, the world may never know."

"I think it's just you, honestly."

"I'm touched." Ambrósio placed his free hand over his chest, where his heart lay underneath. "Oh, also- I figured out another song you remind me of."

"Really? Which?"

"Poison by Alice Cooper. I was gonna say his other song Feed My Frankenstein for the sake of the title and sexual themes, but there's lyrics in there regarding a body part that neither I nor you have...I'm assuming. There's nothing wrong with if you do, though. I have a guy friend with the body part, but he's saving up money to get rid of it."

Dean's eyebrows jumped. "You listen to Alice Cooper?"

"Sometimes, do you?"

"Not really my thing."

"Ah, yes, let me guess." Ambrósio raised a finger in thought. "You enjoy sitting back in leather armchairs, surrounded by dusty, possibly-expensive books and listening to the likes of Debussy, Chopin...I happen to like Tchaikovsky myself, if he's any your style."

Dean laughed softly. "No, not actually. I don't know what I listen to, I don't know if it could be classified as one thing."

"If you ever come back to Portugal, we could listen to my records together 'n' see what you're into" Ambrósio offered.

"Are you asking me out?" Dean joked.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm a gentleman, I'd buy you dinner, first." Ambrósio corrected him. "I'm just flirting your socks of for the time being." He told, sliding a hand through his dark hair; he closed his eyes and gave it a tug, trying to imagine that it was someone else, someone specific, tugging his hair in his bed.

"I'm not wearing any socks right now."

"Task complete." Ambrósio nodded slowly, sure of himself. His smile grew when he heard Dean's slight laugh through the phone.

"Dinner, huh?"

"Yea. Wine, music, candlelight, the whole shebang. Again, a gentleman."

"The sound of it does intrigue me."

"That's the goal" Ambrósio stared up at the ceiling.

"Your activity from before, regarding a bed...What would that include?" Dean didn't know what he was doing, nor what he was hoping to accomplish, but liked the power it held over Ambrósio trying to flirt with him...Well, trying and succeeding, but he liked playing a hard-to-get guy.

"Oh, I'm not entirely sure." Ambrósio partially lied. "Winding, twisting, turning, gyrating, writhing...incessant writhing" he purred. "Perhaps some assorted debaucheries along the way."

"You can be so charming when you want something, eh, Ambrose?"

"Or someone," Ambrósio added. "And I can be so charming, full stop."

"Of course you can."

"Alright, how can I get to you, Dean?" Ambrósio asked him. "Tell me the rules." He whispered through the telephone, Dean stifling a shiver.

"Can I trust you?" Dean playfully rolled his eyes.

"Oh, my dearest Dean, have I given you any reason not to?"

"That's true."

Ambrósio's voice turned into another whisper, "you and I could be as thick as fuckin' thieves. Tell me the rules, Dean." His fingers stroked from his chin to his cheek, a faraway look on his face.

Dean could just imagine the look on Ambrósio's face as they spoke. "First, you gotta tell me if I can call you 'chico' yet."

"Beg for it, like you wanted to" Ambrósio reminded him, free hand trailing down his neck, down his torso.

Dean turned back around, seeing Ambrósio holding onto the opened gate. "What is it, chico? Can I call you ‘chico’?"

“If you ask nicely.”

Dean rolled his eyes knowingly, “save either one of us begging for something from the other for another time.” He finally flirted back.

Dean held a knowing expression on his face. He should've expected this.

"No problem, Ambrose. Can I call you 'chico', yet?"

"Only if you beg like you wanted to." Ambrósio flirted.

Dean looked around in thought, "wouldn't you rather in person?"

"Would either one of us want to travel seventeen-ish hours for you to beg me for something so small in the midst of your big book mission?" Ambrósio rhetorically asked. "You wanna call me 'chico', you gotta do what you suggested. It was your words, not mine, big man."

Dean hummed. "Please?"

"'Please' what?"

Dean giggled quietly. "Please, can I call you 'chico'? Please?" He insisted, "please? Let me call you 'chico', Ambrósio, please."

Ambrósio had a smug look on his face, "you may."

"That was barely any begging."

"Let's save actual begging for some other time, when we're closer together. Okay, amor?"

"Okay, chico."

"I also thought of another song."

"You're full of them for someone who supposedly couldn't think of any."

"Shut up," Ambrósio chuckled. "I Was Made For Loving You."

Dean licked his lips, "by Kiss?"

"You like Kiss?" Ambrósio looked surprised.

"I know Kiss, and I know the song you mentioned. How come I never remind you of any Jimi Hendrix songs?"

"That's not my problem" Ambrósio replied. "I Was Made For Loving You, Dean. Take it or leave it."

"Y'know what, Ambrósio?" Dean inquired. "Maybe you were."

"Not even 'maybe', Dean. I know I am." Ambrósio checked the time. "Listen, I gotta get going, a guy's gotta run. Talk soon?"

"Sure thing, chico."

"Bye, Dean. Stay safe."

"You too."

Ambrósio and Dean hung up their phones, Ambrósio's head spinning of round glasses, prominent cheekbones and smooth voices as he left the bedroom. Whereas Dean stayed where he was, rubbing his thighs with thoughts of dark, soulful eyes, inked-up torsos, and dreamy grandsons.

Both of them just hoped Dean's mission would end quick so the two could talk physically again, or maybe do a greater deal than talking.

#the ninth gate 1999 #the ninth gate #the ninth gate oc #dean corso #dean corso x oc #dean corso x male!oc #dean corso x male #oc #ZAYN oc #zayn malik oc #male oc #oc x male #oc x canon #canon x oc #canon x male #male x male #male x oc #male x canon

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