#the unraveling of the spoon handle before them

[enpr-ss]

LOOK AT THAT COCKY EYEBROW. THAT UNNECESSARY FLICK TO HOLD THE STRAIGHTENED SPOON IN A COOL HAND GESTURE.

I BET RITSU PRACTICED STRAIGHTENING OUT BENT SPOONS FOR EXACTLY THIS MOMENT. THIS WAS HOW HE PLANNED TO REVEAL HIS ESPER POWERS. HE HAS BEEN WAITING HIS ENTIRE LIFE FOR THIS MOMENT. LOOK AT THIS BOY, HE'S SO HAPPY.

[sadhours]

God I neeeed this written. It's been in my head after I re-watched season 2 🥹🙏🏼 Angsty and ends maybe smutty? Idk

Imagine:

Billy is a bully because of his dad. The abused becomes the abuser, right?

He hates how he lashes out but he can't handle everyone else's perfect little lives.

He meets you and everything changes. You're not stuck up. You get it, you get him.

One night the beautiful family facade fails. You witness it, you see his dad throw a punch in Billy's direction.

You don't think, you just lash out. Teach HIM a lesson. If Neil gives it, he can take it, right?

When you aren't fed love with silver spoons, you learn to lick it off knives.

I have been sitting on this too long, I apologize. I hope this is kinda what you were looking for!

warnings: Neil, obviously, violence, loss of virginity, p in v, unprotected (billys the pull out king)

He’s rough around the edges, but he’s dastardly handsome. You see him getting in peoples faces in hallways, chest puffed up and a look in his eyes like he can't believe he has to share air with such scum. He talks back in class, rolls his eyes when they send him to the principals office and you witness the cycle repeat day after day. When you notice a busted lip and bruised eye, you chalk it up to another fight at first.

You’re quiet, keeping to yourself everyday. At lunch, you shove headphones over your ears and turn the Walkman up so loud, you can’t hear your own thoughts. Walking through the hall, your tape skips and you pull it up to inspect if it split. Not watching where you’re going, you walk right into Billy Hargrove’s chest and stumble back onto your ass, the hard linoleum stinging as it makes contact. At first he looks furious, boring down at you with fire in his eyes and you stutter out an apology, rambling on about how your tape skipped and you weren’t looking ahead of you. Surprisingly, he softens, almost immediately and reaches out to grab your hand.

You take it graciously, allowing his strength to lift you up and he grabs your Walkman, popping it open and inspecting the cassette. As he pulls it out, the tape unravels and you curse.

“Hold on,” he soothes, “Not a lost cause yet.”

He walks over to a club table, ignoring the glares he gets from the Chess club. You follow curiously, watching as he swipes a pencil from the sign up sheets and ravels the tape back into the cassette with it. He hands it back with a smile.

“See? Easy fix.”

He makes you feel all dreamy with his attention focused on you. You might actually float away if you don’t rush off immediately. “Thanks!” you yell back, hurrying off and sliding the headphones over your ears again.

Slowly, Billy keeps popping up wherever you go. He even shows up at the record store you work at, weekly. You’re not even sure how it exactly happens, no words are spoken about it but you’re pretty sure you’re Billy Hargrove’s girlfriend. He’s taking you out on dates that end in heavy petting and eager kisses in the backseat of his Camaro.

He’s so incredibly sweet to you but not to anyone else he crosses paths with. You’ve even witnessed heated arguments with his friends. You don’t understand why until one night you’re hanging out in his bedroom and Neil comes barreling into his room and screaming about how he wasn’t supposed to park in the driveway.

It funnels into an argument about everything. Billy doesn’t do anything right, apparently. You’re sitting there, stunned all the while fuming at this asshole. His complaints of his son are laughable at best, none of them really a problem.

Then, it happens and you jump up off the bed. A hard sucker punch to Billy’s cheek, a thundering sound clapping through the room.

Before you realize what’s happening, you’re throwing punches left and right at Neil. As your lifted off the ground, Billy’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist, you see the absolutely dumbfounded look on his fathers face.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he says behind clenched teeth, his eyes dark and terrifying.

Billy grabs onto your wrist, pulling you out of the house and to his car. He’s peeling out of there, the house getting tinier and tinier in the rearview mirror and you look down at your bloodied knuckles. You don’t know how it happened, you saw red in the moment. You’re silent. You feel as if you should apologize but you don’t regret what you’ve done, even if your punches didn’t hurt him like his hurt Billy.

“I…” you open your mouth and close it.

“I know.”

Billy drives out to a field, at least an hour from town. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, staring out the windshield. Then he’s grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers.

“Thank you,” he mumbles and you know it’s difficult for him to say those words.

And everything makes sense, now. Why he’s so broken, why he’s such a tough guy at school. But what doesn’t make sense is why he’s so nice to you. Maybe because you’re the only person who reacted to Neil that way. He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your bloody knuckles.

“I’m ready,” you tell him, not sure why now is the time you want to lose your virginity.

Billy laughs and you fear it’s out of cruelty. Your panic subsides when you see the sparkles in his eyes. He leans his head back against the seat and peers over to you, “You try to beat my dad up and now you want to have sex for the first time. What has gotten into you?”

“That makes it sound weird,” you point out, “I guess I just realized I love you.”

“Took ya long enough,” he snorts and you glare up at him. “C’mere,” he scoots his seat back and pulls you into his lap.

You straddle him, though it’s a tight space. He kisses you tenderly, fingertips barely holding your jaw, “I love you too.”

Your stomach does a flip, deepening the kiss once he mumbled the words against your lips. Billy reaches his hands up into your top, pushing your bra up so he can get a handful of your breast. He licks into your mouth as he squeezes you in his palm, making you squirm in his lap. You can feel as he smiles into the kiss before he pulls back.

“I can’t take your virginity in my car,” he admits and you whine, looking down at him with disappointment etching your features. He’s got you all worked up just to shut it down so quickly and he looks amused as he stares back up at you.

“Yeah, you can,” you retort, matter-of-factly.

He laughs, moving your hair behind your shoulders, “I want it to be special. It’ll be a hell of a struggle in this small space.”

“It is special,” you argue, “I want it.”

Billy bites his lip and looks at you under his thick lashes, “Would it be too seedy to take you to a motel?”

You shake your head, smiling at him hopefully, “I’d do it anywhere with you.”

“Get your ass over,” he smirks, “Let’s go.”

You scramble over the center console, squealing when Billy plants a hefty smack to your ass as you do so. You swear he’s never driven faster.

The motel room is seedy but you don’t blame Billy, he pulled into the first one he’d seen and you were more eager than ever. You stand awkwardly beside him as he purchases the room, trying not to look the clerk in the eyes but you can feel the older woman looking you up and down. Billy doesn’t seem to notice or care, grabbing your hand and leading you to the room. Once he unlocks the door and gets you inside, he’s pushing you against it and presses sloppy kisses all along your neck and collarbone. You feel electric, your body tingles all over but especially between your legs. Billy’s hands are firm on your hips where he’s pinning you against the door and his lips and teeth brand you with bruises descending from your jaw to your collarbone.

You guys have messed around a lot, almost any chance you got you would touch each other eagerly but it never got very far. Billy knew he was the first guy you’d done anything with so he never pressured you to do anything more than hand stuff. You’d always been sure you wanted him to be your first, though. It was just a matter of when, neither of you imagined it would be after you’d punched his dad. Perhaps Billy feared this would be his only chance, since there was no way in hell Neil would let you around again. He usually didn’t go against Neil’s word too drastically.

“Bed?” you pant out, pushing on Billy’s chest slightly. You felt like you were going to melt into a puddle on the floor, light headed from the way he mouthed at your sensitive skin.

“Yeah,” Billy nods and lifts you up, hands on your ass. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you let out a little squeal. He squeezes your bum before walking you towards the bed and laying you down before hovering above you.

“You’re sure?” he asks, grabbing a hold of your hand and his breath smells uniquely him, you’ve got no other way to describe it. It’s pleasant, almost sweet but unlike anything else. You want to taste it so your hand grabs onto the back of his neck to pull his plump lips to your own, slipping your tongue in between them. Billy moans into it, hands snaking up into your blouse and pushing your bra up like before so he can squeeze your tits. His hands are warm and a bit rough, contrasted to the soft, supple skin they’re flush with. His thumbs and forefingers pinch your nipples hard, pulling on them while he licks sloppily into your mouth. It sends electricity straight to your clit causing your hips to roll up at him uncontrollably. You’ve never felt so starved for something in your whole life, so instinctually needy for him to ravish you.

“Billy,” you plead, squirming under his touch, “Need you so bad.”

“I’m right here,” he mouths against your jaw still kneading at your breasts.

You lower your hands to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up and over his head, tossing it aside before grabbing his torso every way you can. He laughs softly, pulling back so he can rip your top and bra off but his hands quickly return to your tits.

“I really, really need you,” you repeat, scratching at his tanned skin.

He stares down at you in awe, never in his life has he seen a woman so desperate under him. They usually played it cool, if they’d felt this horny for him they would usually try to hide it. You can’t though, it’s so evident on your face how turned on you are. Your wide-eyed, pupils dilated and your cheeks are flushed pink. It’s captivating. He grabs a hold of your cheeks, squeezing them together and slaps your tit with his other hand. You cry out, arching your back to feel some kind of relief.

“You want my cock so bad,” he pouts down at you, “poor baby.”

“Need it,” you whimper, voice distorted by the way he’s gripping your face.

“Aw,” he teases, “are you begging for me to fuck you?”

You nod frantically, his words only making you wetter, “Please!”

He lets go of your face and starts unbuckling his belt, pulling it through the loops before he kicks his boots off. He inches to the edge of the bed, unlacing your shoes as quick as he can. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him, the firm grip he has on your ankle makes you whimper. Once he’s got your shoes off, he roughly pulls your jeans off. He positions himself closer and presses his palm hard against your pussy, the barrier of your soaking panties frustrating you.

“Fuck me, Billy,” you mewl, “Pretty please.”

His eyes go dark, mouth opening slightly as he exhales hard. You switched something in him, he’s pushing his jeans and briefs off quickly, freeing his hard cock. The sight of it makes you drool, the tip angry red and leaking which lets you know he’s in the same boat you are. He tugs your underwear down your legs, spreading your legs and scooting himself up between them.

“You wanna feel my cock, baby?” he pants, fingers circling around his length.

You nod eagerly, “Please, Billy.”

He strokes himself, biting his lower lip as he brings his free hand down to feel through your glistening folds. Billy’s touched you there hundreds of times, seen your pussy plenty but never with the promise of being able to stick his dick inside. He presses his tip your entrance and then slides it up through your folds, rubbing your clit with it.

“Oh God,” you moan out, toes curling as you anticipate what’s next.

“Fuck,” he grunts out, “I’m not gonna last long. You’re too fucking perfect.”

The compliments sends you spinning.

“Just want to feel you,” you whisper, “have been since I first saw you.”

Billy leans down to kiss you, hard. He brings his tip back down to your hole, pushes inside slowly. You feel no pain like you’ve been told. It’s electric, actually, makes you feel all kinds of warm and wonderful. Until he pushes in deeper, then you tense, hands grabbing into his waist. Billy kisses your jaw tenderly, tells you to breathe with him. His voice soothes you. It’s the most decadent sound you’ve ever heard.

“Keep going,” you choke out through clenched teeth, “I can handle it.”

You know the more he moves, the easier it will be. You’ve been told. But Billy moves slowly, holds you like he’s scared to break you. You’d happily let him. He sinks in deeper and it’s like he’s pushed passed a barrier, the pain subsiding completely and instead you’re flooded with a rush of pleasure.

“Oh, god,” you pant out, face etched in shock.

“Too much?” he asks, panicked as he looks down at you.

You shake your head from side to side, “Feels so… nice. And warm.”

He chuckles at that bending lower to pepper your face in kisses and he starts to pick up a steady rhythm with his hips. Your legs shake slightly as you try to spread them wider, wrapping your arms around his middle. It’s tender in a way you’ve never seen Billy, he’s delicate and reserved. Then he exhales sharply, his cheeks turning red.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, already,” he mumbles, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

“Is that bad?” you wonder aloud, wiggling your hips slightly and he’s pulling out of you and spilling onto your stomach with a hiss.

He collapses onto the bed next to you and covers his face with his hands. You look down at the mess he’s made on you, feeling as it starts to cool. You’re tempted to touch it, smooth it over your skin but you fear that would be weird. After heaving a sigh, he sits up and looks down at you.

“Not bad, you were so tight it just felt too good. Give me a break and we can try again,” he whispers, standing from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a towel and cleans you up, pulling you into his lap when he’s done. You’re already eager at the promise of doing it again so soon.

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find Part 2

I was blown away by the response to something I banged out without much thought.! I've received several asks about continuing this so here is part two! Thank you everyone!

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

Part one here

CW: named characters (juggling two unnamed male characters pronoun wise was just a huge headache)

“Salt?”

Ben stared at his roommate from across their tiny kitchen table. Two bowls of soup lay before each of them, accompanied by folded napkins and spoons and glasses of water. The formality instantly raised his hackles. Whatever happened to eating on the couch while they watched stupid youtube prank videos?

Fear and anger twisted and blended into each other until he didn’t know what was responsible for the maelstrom in his chest that the hot shower did nothing to calm down.

“How long?” he said instead.

It was the question that plagued him the most. Did this start before they met? Had Ben lived with a stranger in a mask this whole time? Or did it start later? Did something horrible happen to make Adam desperate enough to try villainy and could Ben have prevented it?

“How long has salt been around?” Adam asked blithely. “I don’t know. Probably at least a thousand years or more. Did the Romans use salt? You’re the history nerd, not me.”

“Don’t mock me,” Ben snapped. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Do you really want to know?”

What fucking kind of question was that? But Adam tilted his head to the side, the look in his eyes deadly serious.

“Because if I tell you,” he continued, “that could implicate you. Once you know, you can’t un-know. And Heroes have ways of making you talk. There’s no way they’d believe you didn’t help me all this time.”

So consumed with the fear of Adam himself, Ben never thought to be concerned with anyone else. Now a new fear dug its roots into him.

“There’s no way they’d believe it now,” he said, heart thudding again.

“They would if you were genuinely clueless.”

Or if I turned you in Ben thought. That was the other thought that had plagued him the last few days.

Now that he knew, what was he supposed to do about it?

“But I don’t intend on you talking to anyone about this,” Adam added.

Again, Ben’s hackles raised at the certainty in Adam’s voice. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“How would you stop me?”

He didn’t mean it as a taunt. He knew Adam was dangerous, but not how. Did Adam have powers or weapons? What plans did he have for Ben?

“You don’t want the answer to that question either,” Adam replied softly. “But know that I would, if I had to. I’m capable of anything when I know it’s my best option.”

The lump was back in Ben’s throat, making it hard to swallow. He could stomach the lying, even understand it a little. How do you tell your roommate that you’re the one behind all the recent robberies and arson?

 And Ben could handle the crimes, for the most part. This city ate people alive and anyone not obscenely wealthy had one bad accident standing between themselves and homelessness.  So far Adam’s crew had only targeted places  with large payouts. They took hostages when necessary but had no casualties so far.

But the threats? The knife at his throat? The lack of hesitation before launching to dark promises of violence hurt Ben the most. Even without his stupid crush, they had become friends the last three years. Their lives had become enmeshed with each other’s in a domestic intimacy that went beyond two people who simply shared a space.

 Adam knew his allergies and what restaurants to avoid because of it. He knew Ben’s parents and siblings. He knew Ben’s failed dreams and useless history degree. They shared shampoo and lonely holiday dinners and a Netflix account.

Ben thought he knew Adam the same way. But now all that had unraveled, and though he never harbored the hope that Adam could return his affections, seeing how easily Adam could threaten his life as if Ben never meant anything to him . . .

The knife would hurt less.

“What . . .” Ben swallowed again, his voice coming out choked. “What do you want me to do? I can move out. Leave the city.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “Leave? You can’t leave!”

 Hope rose ever so slightly without Ben’s permission. But when had it ever listened in the first place?

“I can’t afford this apartment without you.”

And there it went, dashed on the rocks.

“Haven’t you been . . .earning extra income,” Ben asked hesitantly.

“Not enough to cover your portion of everything for more than a month or two. Besides . . .I only get a small percentage of the cut. I need you.”

Boy, would Ben have loved to hear that in literally any other circumstance.

“But I’m a liability now,” he protested.

“Are you?”

Adam got a certain look in his eye anytime they played strategy games. It didn’t matter what kind — Among Us, Monopoly, chess, Street Fighter. His mind always worked five steps ahead, thinking of contingency plans for contingency plans, and Ben knew when that glint showed up in Adam’s eye, he was about to lose. That he had lost long before he even realized it.

“Here’s the way I see it.” Adam leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “You hate living with your parents and you don’t want to leave the city. I can’t leave because I’m . . .in the middle of things. If either of us were to move out, we’d both have to find another roommate and the odds of us finding people that work as well with us as we do with each other is impossible. We would both be miserable.”

“You think I would be more miserable with a person who didn’t threaten me with a knife?” Ben asked.

And the answer to that question was yes, but Adam didn’t have to know that.

“What if they never turn the light on when they piss at night and get it all over the toilet?” Adam countered. “What if they eat the last of all your snacks or move their obnoxious girlfriend in or never empty the dishwasher before sticking their dirty dishes in?”

Objectively speaking, Ben would rather have a knife to his throat one time than deal with any of those on a constant basis.

“We know how to live with each other. We’ve developed a routine that has worked for years. This doesn’t have to change anything. It’s not like I haven’t been doing this for months while you had no clue anyway.”

“You will never trust me not to snitch,” said Ben.

“If I’m in jail, then how are you going to still live here with any kind of sanity? Better yet — if I’m thrown in prison because you ran your mouth, how are you going to be safe from retaliation from my boss or crew members? How are you going to avoid your own prison sentence for being an accessory? Is it worth your life to put me away?”

That last question hit him hard. He knew it was cowardly and stupid beyond measure, but he couldn’t bear the thought of blowing up the little life he’d carved for himself here. It didn’t amount to much, especially to his parents, but he loved it all the same.

“No,” he told Adam softly. “It’s not worth it.”

He loved his life and he loved Adam and he loved his life because of Adam and it all fed into each other like one writhing ouroboros.

Adam leaned back again, looking devastatingly smug. “I didn’t think so.”

“So . . .what now?” Ben bit at his lower lip, the nervous tell that always gave him away in poker.  “What do you want me to do?”

“Eat your soup for starters.” Adam nodded at the bowl in front of Ben. “And then give me your phone.”

“My phone? What do you want with my phone?”

Adam leveled a flat look over the table. A look he shot at Ben frequently over the years when Ben made a particularly bad pun. He used to love making Adam give him that look. Now it felt tainted with an undercurrent of a threat.

“Eat your soup, Ben.”

Ben ate his soup. It came out great, almost as if they had just ordered it from the restaurant that inspired it. Adam didn’t cook often, but when it did it outshone Ben’s rudimentary skills. And when they both finished, Ben cleared the table, almost on autopilot, because the person who didn’t cook did the dishes. It was one of the first routines they established.

Usually Ben hated washing dishes which was why he volunteered to make dinner so often. Tonight however it offered a soothing distraction, much more effective than the shower Adam insisted he take. Right up until he felt Adam’s hands on his thighs, sliding up to the edge of his front pocket.

“What are you doing?” he yelped, dropping the spoon with a clatter.

“Looking for your phone.” Adam’s voice pressed right against the shell of Ben’s ear.

His fingers wriggled their way into the pocket, tight in old jeans Ben should have thrown out when he graduated. His breath stuttered in his chest at the intrusion, which lasted only a few seconds, and at the triumphant snort against his ear when Adam slipped the phone out.

He swallowed thickly, throat tight for a very different reason than before. Adam stepped back, the heat of him gone just as suddenly as it appeared. A glance over his shoulder showed Adam leaning against the stove, brow furrowed as he typed in Ben’s password. Because of course Ben had given it to him, thoughtlessly, for vague future emergencies.

“What are you doing to it?” he asked, nerves fluttering in the pit of  his stomach. What if he didn’t get it back?

“Precautionary measures,” Adam replied distractedly. “I’ll give it back in the morning.”

“The morning?”

He spun around, soap dripping from his hands. Adam leveled another flat look at him.

“Do you want this to work or should I get another knife?” he said.

The blood drained from Ben’s face. His eyes darted over to the knife block, sitting just inches away from Adam’s hip. There was no way he could reach it in time — not that it would matter if he could. Clumsy and inexperienced, he’d only hurt himself and save Adam the trouble.

“I just . . .want to know what’s happening,” he said, eyes prickling for the second time that night, goddamn it. “You don’t have to keep threatening me.”

The cognitive dissonance of having Adam so carelessly threaten him, pulling a knife on him — Adam, his best friend that he lived with for years — felt like it could split his head apart. Life was starting to not feel real anymore, like he was in a video game instead. Or a nightmare.

Adam’s expression flickered, looking almost stricken, before Ben turned away. He rinsed what was left of the suds from his hands and then turned the water off.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, even though it was barely dark. “Keep the phone.”

Then he walked straight down the back hall to his bedroom. Adam called his name, almost too softly to hear, but Ben ignored him and shut the door.

He locked it too, for good measure. Not that it mattered. Sleep did not accompany him much that night.

Part Three

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Forbidden to die III

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ADULT CONTENT. 18+, blood, violence, death

Summary: Captain Price endures the horrors of a Russian prison as a prisoner of war, and finds some solace in his cell neighbour, who helps him stay strong with their late-night chats.

Words: 2.4k

A/N: I have tried to write multiple endings, but none feel quite right. Despite my best efforts, the conclusion I have written is not to my liking. However, I accept it as the best one I could come up with at this moment.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Death is silent, like a shadow, and takes different shapes and forms. Sometimes invisible, sometimes not. Sometimes tall and thin, sometimes short and squat, sometimes all of the above.

Death is a blur in the shadows, which could be any shape. It’s a shade of grey that appears and disappears. You can’t really see it, but you can feel it. Depending on where it is, you can’t even smell it.

Death is silent and takes different shapes and forms. It is a person, a thing; it is unseen. It is a feeling, a fear, a worry, a burden. It comes in a thousand different forms, and no one knows which, if any of them, will strike down that day.

And that day, it came in the shape of you.

Your hands were covered in blood, the body of a man twitching at your feet as he clutched his throat with the same hands that earlier had held you by your arms and shoved you against the wall.

The guard lay before you; he gasped like a fish pulled from the water. His hands scraped over the wound just under his chin, and the air pumped out of him with ragged gasps like a fish being pulled from the water. His blood spilt onto the floor in squeaking, thick spurts.

You looked at your hands, which were now shaking, and then back up to him- his face twisted in terror and pain. You watched as the man convulsed, his fingers desperately clinging to the hard ceramic beneath him. His body was contorted in a final agonising dance. Then, slowly, the spasms stopped, the body falling flat on the floor in a pool of blood, still and silent.

You paused to take a breath, rivulets of sweat dripping from your forehead. Your heart beat like a thunderstorm inside your chest as your mind raced. You didn’t want to be here; you didn’t want to have to do this. But it had to end this way.

When the creak of the cell door echoed through your chamber, you knew it was the moment of reckoning. The guard arrived with a scowl and dragged you from the shadows, ready to bellow his rage yet again. With your heart pounding in anticipation, you knew this was your chance.

Your sleeve hid the gruesome tool hastily created from an old spoon. Its handle was jagged, like a shark’s tooth, shaped and cut out unevenly. It was thin and slender like a pencil yet more pointed, capable of slicing through any material with just one thrust of its point - perfect for stabbing.

You had set the dominoes in motion, a simple act of anticipating the escape of a day to save Price’s life. But from that one action, everything began to unravel like a loose thread pulled from a sweater. The pieces fell into place with an eerie precision that no one could have foreseen. The air was still silent as you held the sharp, rusty knife tightly, its uneven edge biting into your skin.

The split second stretched into eternity; you knelt down, pulled his radio and gun off his belt, and left the body behind.

The thought of dying weighed heavily on your mind.

If you died, all you’d see would be darkness, the blackness of space; it would envelop you like thick ink flowing through water -the last sight you’d see before being pulled away to the other side.

If you died tonight, you’d close your eyes to relieve the pain and feel yourself float away on a sea of blackness. It would be peaceful, quiet, but not cold or terrifying. It would be an end. Your end.

Your lungs would fail, and you’d fall into a deep, comfortable sleep, never to wake up.

Death is terrifying because it is utterly peaceful.

There were bright, soft visions of Heaven, but you found them unconvincing.

You knew that your fate lay outside that door. You could feel the task’s weight ahead of you like a millstone around your neck. The darkness seemed to press in on you, suffocating and oppressive. But you couldn’t afford to be scared. Not now. You had come too far to turn back now.

The plan was to start a fire, large enough to draw the guards away from their posts and allow the other inmates to break free and possibly take over the prison. The tall flames would eat up the dry hay and brambles like a hungry monster, growing faster as it chewed its way through the field like a bull in a china shop. Once they reached the barbed wire fences, there would be nothing left but ashes.

You moved cautiously toward the door, avoiding the pools of blood as you went. The weight of the radio and gun made your hand unsteady, and your heart thundered in your chest. You took a deep breath and placed your hand on the cold metal handle of the door, pushing it open with a creak.

The hallway outside was dark and empty, but you navigated it with all the grace of a panther stalking its prey. Being a spy meant being invisible, and you had mastered the art of going unnoticed better than anyone else in your field. You moved soundlessly, every step calculated and precise, until you reached your target without a single soul catching even a glimpse of you.

The hour of their reckoning had come, and they would soon feel firsthand the inferno of their own wrongdoing.

--

The prison was oddly quiet, a kind of hush that foretold of a coming evil. Price felt it, too - a tension in the air, like something was about to happen and following him like a dark cloud. The hallway and cell block had an oppressive atmosphere - hot and suffocating. Then he smelled it: the unmistakable odour of smoke, bitter and sharp, that burned his nose and made his eyes water. He could almost taste the powdery ding of black and white smoke and ashes. This smell reminded him of war zones- The cries of the desperate and dying, the stench of death. 

The howls of protests, demands, and desperation were distant but just as urgent.

Price gasped for air as the smoke filled his lungs and flooded his eyes. He fought through that awful burning, choking sensation in his throat, which had become hoarse from all the coughing. His voice was rough from the lingering scent of burning plastic and flesh in his lungs. He coughed again, a harsh cough in response to the lingering stench of chemical waste in this redoubt.

“What the hell-?” He coughed and coughed again.

He crawled on all fours, one hand in front of him and the other gripping his shirt in a vain attempt to shield his lungs from the acrid smoke. His eyes scanned the darkness, desperately searching for an exit as he felt around with his fingers.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a sliver of light shone through. Price blinked in surprise as a figure stepped into the room- he could barely make out his frame.

It was one of the inmates he had grown to know well from his own cell block.

“Quickly, now!” he shouted, grasping him firmly. His thick hands were rough, and his grip iron-like as he pulled him up. The calloused palms almost tore into his wrists as Price found himself suddenly standing.

Price stumbled forward, coughing and wheezing. His eyes watered as he tried to adjust to the sudden brightness of the chaotic hallway. The smoke was thicker here, and the shouted protests and demands of the prisoners were louder. Price could see the desperation in their eyes as they scrambled to get out of the burning building. They pushed and shoved, trampling over each other in their haste to escape.

“What the bloody hell’s happenin’?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.

“We’re breaking out,” the other prisoner said, a hint of excitement in his voice.” Looks like you don’t have to be the sacrificial lamb anymore, huh?”

Price blinked, still trying to process the situation. he still felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter. He could hardly believe it- they were actually escaping. He was filled with a sudden rush of adrenaline as he realised that his days of captivity were finally over.

Price barrelled through the cell door, with a thick cloud of smoke billowing behind him. His eyes darted around the room as he quickly scanned for you. Panic swelled in his chest when he saw that your bed was empty, and worry flooded his expression.

And then it hit him. It was you—you were the mastermind behind all of this.

“What the hell?!” He stopped and stared at the prisoner. “Where the hell is she? “Price’s voice was hoarse from the smoke, and a nervous lump formed in his throat. He tried to hold himself together, but he couldn’t. “God damn it.”

He bellowed out your name, but there was nothing but smoke, prisoners and the sound of shouting. 

The man yanks him by his collar, dragging him through the maelstrom of chaos and wreckage. 

“No!” Price protested, “not without her.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Don’t care ’til I see her, alright? “He snapped back before running in the opposite direction.

--

The hallway was dark and barely lit with an occasional flickering lamp. The floor was dusty, the air thick with dust and smoke. You could feel it getting into your eyes, nose and mouth, which all stung with each breath you took.

The air was filled with choking smoke, but you could still make out a few details. It looked like a prison block; you made your way back to the main core of the prison, grimacing as your injured leg throbbed with pain. The torn skin was slick and sticky. When you tried to feel the severity of the wound, your fingers slipped into the red mass of meat and gore.

You released your grip on the weapon after taking out a few more guards as you headed for the exit. 

The soft clattering sound of it on the ground went unnoticed against the cacophony of gunfire and men screaming in pain. The job was done, and you were almost out, but your blood still boiled as you leaned against the wall for support.

There were sounds of chaos all around, echoing through your mind, slowly numbing your soul.

Slowly, you had taken the corner, but the sharp pain of someone grabbing you by the shoulder and spinning you around made you stumble. You tripped on your feet and tumbled to the ground as a guard loomed above you, pressing his heavy boot into your chest.

You froze as you felt the cold metal press against your skin, and a whimper escaped your lips. Like its owner’s voice, the gun’s muzzle was brutal and unforgiving.

The man’s voice rumbled out of him, deep and menacing like rolling thunder. His words were almost inaudible, but the intensity of his presence was oppressive. He pushed his gun into your back so hard you felt it burn through the fabric of your clothes. His fingers dug into her collarbone with a cruel strength as he snarled, “Tell me, where do you think you’re going, little miss?” The raw aggression behind his voice was a warning - one you could not ignore.

The man’s face contorted into a twisted mask of fury; his eyes burned with a crimson fire that seemed to originate from deep within his soul. A sense of primal fear gripped you as you took in the sight before you. His snarling lips were drawn back, exposing his crooked teeth and the jagged scar tissue that stretched like a grotesque mask over his features. The man’s voice cut through the air, sharp and cruel like a razor blade.

” I’ll have to make you an example now.”

Your chest was constricted with panic as you struggled to breathe.

You knew that this was it. You were trapped, and there was no way out. The man’s grip on you only tightened, sending waves of pain coursing through your body. You tried to speak, but your throat constricted, and no sound came out. 

There was a coldness in your heart, something telling you to prepare yourself. There would be no falling asleep and drifting away to endless sleep; this time, you would see what lay beyond the veil. It was time to die.

--

The sky was bright and crystal blue, a contrast to the rocky, grey landscape the hospital window overlooked. The air was cold that day, but the weather was nice. A calm wind blew from the east.

Hospital rooms were quiet, too quiet. The occasional beeping of machinery or whispers of doctors and nurses speaking were hushed, like the clatter of the floor tiles as they walked.

Your voice suddenly broke the hush, saying, “No smoking here.”

Price sat in a chair beside your bed, his face weathered but his body lean and mean. His hands clutch a plastic cup of tea. He smiled at you.

“Smoke’s good for a patient like you...” Another plume of thick, acrid smoke exhales from him. “Besides, you’re supposed to be restin’, love.”

“The nurse is going to kick you out like last time,” you warned him.

The back of his hand brushed against your cheek, and he leaned toward you slightly. “I’ll kick the nurse’s scrawny ass out… “

You chuckled. “It’s bad for your health.”

“I’m not the one layin’ in a hospital bed,” he said.

Price looked up and into your eyes, watching them as they dart around the room, taking the measure of everything. He e had been enamoured with your sparkling, luminous eyes. He needed to look into them—his expression warm and full of adoration. It was a look you’d never seen before.

“Because I saved your life.”

“And I saved yours, remember?” His fingertips gently glided down the side of your head, his touch sending soft shivers down your spine. His fingers delicately combed through your hair.

“I guess we’re even.”

You both shared a moment of silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. The sound of beeping machines and faint whispers seemed to disappear, and it was just the two of you in the room. 

“I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he finally said, breaking the silence. 

You smiled weakly, your hand reaching out to take his. “I’m just glad we made it out alive.” 

Price’s thumb stroked your knuckles as he gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. You knew he was a man of few words, but every word had a depth of meaning when he spoke.

“We did it together,” he whispers, his accent thick and gravelly. “And we’ll keep doin’ it together, no matter what comes our way.”

Tags: @8sy-errah8 @fanficwriterlover @i-ameri-cant @littleone65 @cosmoscoffeee @cj-theyoungling @time-for-tmblr @shuttlelauncher81

[holdinbacksecrets]

Cuddling with vernon

Spending casual time with him, watching movies and eating ice cream. When you get ice cream near your lips, he'd kiss it saying "cute" It's all so sweet and lovely. Holding you, being the big spoon, playing with your fingers and hair. Kissing you hands, cheeks, nose, neck, ETC. ETC. :(

It's just so simple yet so cute

:( i love hansol so much, and he’s so boyfriend to me, but in a different way… maybe it’s all the weird in him yet he’s also so wise and i appreciate his perspective so this all just aids the boyfriend energy and the comfort that cuddling would bring

he’s definitely someone i imagine doing lots of ‘spending time in the same room doing different things’ bc he just wants to soak up as much of you as possible, and he’ll eventually push away whatever he’s been working on and capture your attention through a soft touch or call of your name. maybe he motions to your room or the balcony if the weather is lovely, and sinking into his arms is an unbeatable experience. you can feel any pressure on your bones release. anxiety in your mind is softened. your heart warms.

maybe you continue to exist in the same silence as before, just closer. maybe random thoughts are shared, interrupting the quiet peace in gentle waves. perhaps you talk for hours now, recharged by your solo activities.

his fingers card through your hair. your hand is on his chest, a leg between his own. the ceiling fan creats a rhythm that would certainly lull you to sleep if you weren’t so engaged by hansol’s words.

kisses meet your forehead. an i love you fills your ears. he tells you a story—shares a memory that isn’t in your catalogue from years ago, from those early days when you were still figuring each other out.

it’s always a strange sensation that embraces you when a loved one shares a past experience of you, coming to know about the way you’re left in another’s life, the way your energy, your smile, your gaze feels to someone else—the way it’s often different from what you imagine: oh, that’s the shape of my imprint.

he tells you about the vacation he took to see his family two weeks after your fifth date, and he talked to his sister about you in the kitchen. she’s a better cook than him, but he helped by cutting veggies and measuring ingredients. her entire face lit up as he told her about you. about the skirt you wore with oxfords and a university sweatshirt—your mom’s with fading letters and a distressed collar. about the tea you ordered but waited for twenty minutes to drink because lukewarm is better than a burnt tongue. he told her about the sun’s glow on your skin and his surprise to see your eyes stay wide open even when the brightness found them. he wondered how long it’s taken you to do such a thing—be able to handle it. he called you that night and packed a t shirt he wanted you to have and a cd too, one kept from middle school. you whispered on the phone. it’s something you’ve only done with him when the telephone rings at night. he asked you why, and you said something about a tree outside your window—staying quiet for it or else it’ll call on the wind to make its branches bang your glass. that was the moment he knew.

you peer up at him through long lashes, hazel eyes holding love and surprise and a sprinkling of awe for the man who’s nearly beneath you. he’s about to be as hands guide you to straddle his waist. hansol hums like he doesn’t understand your expression, but he does. he just wants you to say it, wants you to look at him like this for the rest of the afternoon while tracing the lines on his face.

what your heart is doing, the way it’s swelled, is sweeter than moonlight. the wanting is all over you. the wanting to know every other thing he’s kept with him. wanting to share moments your mind clutches and unravel memories, realize which are shared or only known by one. you find yourself wondering if this will be a forever routine. hopefully

[ricardian-werewolf]

8: Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

(Yes, Spoiler alert! A CROSSOVER!) Ao3 Link

Summary:

Nikolai explains finally how he took the crown, and dominik begins to unravel that there are layers to him that not even he as his lover knows of. Deep in Dva Stolba, a miracle occurs that shatters all of the plans anyone has.

Scene clip below the cut:

“Careful, Dominik. They also happened to secure my throne. Well, one of them did…” Nikolai’s fingers snapped, and the tent’s flaps were pulled wide to admit six figures;

The first was a boy with slicked back black hair, sharp eyes and a face made seemingly of marble. At his elbow - she was that small - was a suli girl with dark eyes and a gaze that made Dominik shrink back in his seat. Looming over the boy’s shoulder was a gangly Zemeni fellow armed with two pearl-handled revolvers and a jaunty top hat. At His elbow was a boy with freckles, ginger hair and goggles perched on his forehead. He looked about 15, and skittish. 

Dominik’s gaze focused in on the other two, a hulking Fjerdan glaring daggers at Dominik, and at his side a red-kefta clad woman with red hair. She swayed uneasily on her feet, and clung limply to the Fjerdan’s arm. Dominik had a vague memory of seeing this girl before, and then he remembered Kermazin with a jolt of fear.

“Easy,” Nikolai cooed, and settled back on his chair. It seemed like now any seat he sat upon was a throne. He radiated such power that Dominik was inclined to wonder What these teenagers had done to afford his brother and lover such a boon. So, he stirred his coffee, added a costly spoonful of sugar, and opened his mouth.

“How?”

Nikolai leaned forward, and flashed his teeth.

“Jurda Parem.”

Dominik’s brow quirked up in curiosity. 

“It’s a stimulant. The Fjerdans have been experimenting with it on Grisha. It’s highly , dangerously addictive.” Nikolai’s gaze softened as he glanced at the Grisha on the Fjerdan’s arm, and he clicked his tongue. He’d burned the parem the moment Matthais had told him - after swearing fealty to this new Opjer king.

Oh, yes.

Nikolai had killed Rasmus, and taken the throne. He had used the Black Protocol’s chaos to crown himself King, and inspire a revolt amongst the Drüskelle. Two Years of working with the common people as a nobleman had earned their favor, and with a new crop of Drüskelle coming in to replace the old guard, Nikolai’s word was law. 

“I made it my first edict that the Parem experimentation would stop instantly.” 

“What about Jarl Brum and the entirety of Fjerdan society?!” Dominik hissed. 

Nikolai’s face turned stony. He waved his hand to dismiss the guards and these teens, but then hesitated. 

His gaze turned back to Dominik, and he sighed. The two years of exile seemed to press down on him in that moment more than they had in weeks. Pulling his hands through his blonde hair, Nikolai pressed his palms to his eyes, and sighed deeply. A sick feeling wormed its way into Dominik’s gut. 

“It took a lot of work. Being inserted into Fjerdan society as an adult raised partially by Baba Anya, made for this to be one of the rudest awakenings I’ve experienced. And I’ve had some pretty rude awakenings.” Nikolai’s grin cracked and he peered down at the map. 

“I had to repress…” He fluttered his hands nervously and patted down his pockets for something. Dominik instinctively pulled out a fountain pen and tossed it to him. Nikolai grinned, stuck the barrel in between his teeth and gnawed on it. 

“-myself. Every part of myself. Fjerdan society before I got on the throne was so… masculine that the suppression isn’t even suppression, it’s socially acceptable. And yes, I know-” He glared at Dominik’s serious face. “Installing a new societal system into an already existing system is grounds for mistrust, disaster, and so on. But, beneath that veneer, by being one with the people, I found less so pockets of resistance, but the breakdown of monoliths. Ravka, and for good reason, sees Fjerda as a fundamentally singular thing: backwards. While militaristically light years ahead of us, they’re backwards in their social perceptions. At first glance. Under the surface, there’s radicals, centrists, and Jarl Brum alikes who want to march Fjerda to endless war. That’s why the Fjerdan law forces the noble families to compete for the throne. However, over the last… two centuries or so, it’s been cornered by the Grimjers.”

[2-lines-and-a-circle]

Flavor of love matchup: A surprise date!

This one is for  @axulashengrotto​

Sha la la la~

Today is your big first date with Idia, after confessing you guys decide to go to an art museum. Just what is to become of this date?

Idia and you agree to meet up at the school gate to then walk to the art museum

The museum is featuring art from the coral sea

You mentioned you were interested in their art a long time ago, so you were shocked to see Idia remembered that tiny detail

Excited you both headed on the bus to head to the museum

Unknowingly to you there was quite a crowd watching you

Jade, Floyd, Ortho and Ace had been following you two curious about the date

Arriving at the date the two of you look around. 

However the art isn’t the least bit interesting

There’s nothing but paintings of forks and spoons everywhere

not to mention a crab in a boat

Idia: I’m sorry. I really am such a buzzkill, aren’t I? I thought this would be interesting. But I can tell that you’re boreeeeeeeeeeed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In that moment the two of you are kidnapped

After a couple of minutes, you find yourself face to face with Idia in a rowboat

Idia and you both look to each other and try your best to not freak out

You: Idia, did you by any chance plan this? Idia: NO!

The two of you break out into a cold sweat scared of what was to become. 

???: “There you see her ~ Sitting there across the way ~ She don’t got a lot to say ~”

Oh, but you got a lot to say for in fact a very annoying crab was singing for you two tonight

It was none other than Ace Trappola

Idia: Um… Isn’t that Ace Trappola. Ah, my first date…  Ace: It don't take a word ~ Not a single word~ Go on and kiss the girl~

Almost as if you could see it on replay you could tell Idia was thinking about the past ghost marriage event

You were about to stop this crab from singing any further but then…

???: “Sing with me now” ???: “Look like the boy too shy”

You: Oh no not the twins and is that Azul on the piano?! Idia: Nononono I can’t handle this!

But by now you were already absorbed in the song and scene unraveling before you that you decided to roll with it

Idia, notices this and tries his best to let go just a little

Ace: “Now’s your moment” Jade: ya, ya, ya Ace: “Floating in a blue lagoon” Floyd: ya, ya, ya

The song continues for a while, and you notice that Idia isn’t as terrified as he was in the beginning

In fact, he’s starting to smile a little bit at the group of singers

Shocking enough he gets tossed a mic from Floyd and is forced to sing

Holding your breath, you wait to hear Idia sing

Idia’s face is so embarrassed, but he tries his best for you

Idia: “And listen to the song ~ The song say kiss the girl~” Ortho: Waaaaaa! Waaaaa! *other bird noises

To everyone’s surprise, Idia can sing and he does it good

Embarrassed from Ortho and himself he hands you the mic to sing the rest

And well you do

You might not be as good as him but you’re not like Ortho either

With the combination of everyone’s skill you finish up your first date in a very dramatic style

It’s also revealed that the five of them planned this since last night

Azul: I told you this was a great plan Floyd & Jade: I never doubted you one bit Ace: This night was shocking in more ways than one Ortho: Mission success!

Idia: Hey, you know… today wasn’t like how I planned but… it wasn’t bad either. Strangely enough, I’m happy you’re the person I’m with…

He says that last bit under his breath, but you still heard it

You: Thanks, I’m happy you’re with me too!

Seconds after that moment:  

Ace: How should we get them out of this lagoon? Floyd: Well, I guess it’s time to strip, right Jade~ Ortho: Wait!

Everyone turns to Ortho

Ortho: I borrowed this from Sam, he said for everyone to touch this and we should be transported back to the school.

Everyone grabs hold of the magical item and transports back to the school

[lilxberry]

Hardly Burglar Material - Bilbo Baggins

Requested by: @donniethescienceguy​

Helloooooooo! Can I have a Bilbo x hobbit wife reader where after Thorin insults him (in the beginning when he arrives) she defends him and Thorins like: are you sure it’s the male Baggins we want?

I mean, I still did as what was requested but man, did I not know where tf this was going lmao

I followed quite a bit of the manuscript of the film, the only alteration is when reader confronts Thorin

Warnings: Nothing really. Asshole Thorin. Terrible writing lmao. 

Words: 1,796

Pairings: Bilbo Baggins x Reader (female reader) (wife!reader)

_______________

You hadn’t expected your quiet evening meal with your husband to be interrupted but when a dwarf, a big, burly, tattooed, balding, towering one at that knocks your door, there certainly isn’t much you can do.

After the dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwalin, had entered your home and devoured your husbands fish dinner, to which you offered Bilbo your own meal, more and more knocks sounded at the door, each one miffing your husband further and further until he had finally had enough.

“There’s nobody home!” he shouted as another sound came from the front door, arms holding up the abundance of weapons the two brothers’, Fíli and Kíli, loaded on to him.

You felt terrible, watching as your husband becomes frustrated, not knowing what to do other than spectate in concern.

He tossed the items down out of his arms as he stormed towards the door, shouting at whoever was on the other side. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is.”

Bilbo closes in on the door. “I-I-If this is some plotheads idea of a joke,” he laughed in disbelief before grasping the door handle in his hand. “I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”

With that, he pulled the door open and in comes tumbling through the doorway a cluster of dwarves, all grumbling and whining at the other to get off of them. Bilbo and yourself, who stood a few steps behind, looked down at the mess of moving bodies on the floor before his feet, dumbfounded expressions on both of your faces.

Movement behind the pile up caught both yours and Bilbos’ attention, and once the tall figure bent down ever so slightly to reveal himself, your face twisted into that of utter confusion as your husband sighs in exasperation.

“Gandalf.”

_______________

Although you were concerned for your husband, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation quite amusing. You found some of the dwarven folk that had invaded your shared home to be quite a fun, entertaining bunch.

Of course, you were concerned about the possessions within your home, hoping that the dwarves leave your home relatively untouched and that your husband wouldn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.

Your uninvited guests had pillaged the pantry of its food. The race of dwarves certainly did have quite an appetite. Even Gandalf had nibbled on quite a bit of food.

The rowdiness of the dwarves had calmed slightly, if only for moment when they downed whatever drink they had. Even the ridiculous and frankly disgusting belching afterwards was calmer than their initial arrival.

Yet that was quickly replaced with plates, platers, knives, forks, and spoons were tossed from one dwarf to another as they sang a merry tune. Bilbo was quick with demanding caution and for things to be put down. Even you were slightly worried for your kitchen utensils.

The dwarves released hearty laughter when you and Bilbo peered into the kitchen and had seen that everything was clean and stacked, Gandalf chuckling along with them as both you and Bilbo simultaneously release sighs of relief.

Then, the atmosphere became tense as three, loud knocks sound at your front door for a final time that night.

The laughter died out instantly and Gandalf spoke quite ominously. “He’s here.”

_______________

You couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly was unsettled you so much when it came to the dark-haired dwarf who sat at the head of the table. Maybe his stature. Possibly his stoic expression.

Most likely the look behind his eyes.

Well, you certainly didn’t like him all that much whenever he addressed your husband.

Most of the conversation between the dwarves and Gandalf became muffled when reaching your ears, certainly seeing no point in listening in on their talk. The second your husbands voice rang out through the room though had piqued your interest and your attention was brought to the conversation.

They spoke of The Lonely Mountain, the dragon Smaug, how they were on a quest to reclaim their home. Gandalf had produced not only a map of some forts but a key, a key the dwarves seemed to become quite excited about.

You also happened to admire the young dwarfs’ courage. Ori.

Then, the topic of a burglar arrived.

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori spoke.

“Hmm, and a good one too. An expert I’d imagine.” Bilbo moves back from peering down at the map, holding on to his suspenders.

“And are you?”

Bilbo glances around to behind him before looking towards the dwarves once more. “Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert!” Oin spoke cheerily. Of course, the dwarf with the horn to aid his hearing would say as such.

“Me? No, no, no, no, no,” your husband started, eyes darting to each dwarf, hoping his point would get across. “I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

You nodded your head in agreement. As much as you love your husband, he is quite the stickler for following rules.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins,” Balin was next to speak. “He’s hardly burglar material.”

You supressed a chuckle as Bilbo, although relieved that someone agreed, looked the tiniest bit offended.

The group of dwarves began to chatter and raise in volume, no words could actually be comprehended by yourself, it all a jumble of noises. Then Gandalf raised out of the seat slightly, his voice booming over the racket the dwarves created.

“ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR,” he lowered his voice with each following word. “Then a burglar he is.” Bilbo looked as if he wanted to protest but no words left his mouth.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet,” he continued. “In fact, they can pass by unseen by most if they chose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to them which gives us an distinct advantage.”

The whole discussion about your husband was unnerving for you. You disliked how your husband was talked of like a ploy in some silly game.

“This quest is no place for gentlefolk.” Thorins’ tone was as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, clearly showing his disgust for your husband. “He probably wouldn’t last 5 miles away from his precious little home. Look at him, Gandalf! He isn’t made for such things, it’s as clear as day. His big feet and rounded belly would slow us down. Your little Hobbit would cry out for home within a day.”

Your blood boiled with each word he spoke, an anger rising in you which you desperately tried to keep down. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and your jaw was clenched tightly shut, but enough was enough.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY HUSBAND LIKE THAT?! NO LESS WHILST YOU ARE IN HIS HOME AND IN HIS PRESENCE!”

Your outburst caught the attention of every soul in the dining room around the table. Their eyes settled on your figure that stepped closer and closer to them up to the point where you stood glaring down at Thorin right beside his seat. Even Bilbos’ eyes were wide and looked almost ready to pop right out of their sockets.

“My husband may not be a fighter like you…you BRASS DWARVES! But he deserves no less respect. I will not stand for someone speaking down on my Bilbo in such a manner, even if they are some king,” you all but spat out.

Some of the dwarves looked offended that you spoke to their leader in such a way, others looked thoroughly shocked, surprised that a small thing as yourself had such a fire in you. Gandalf smirked as Bilbo looked like he genuinely feared for your safety. He had witnessed outbursts from you that scared him before, which were quite rare, you barely losing your temper, but for once, he was terrified of the consequences seeing as it wasn’t at him nor a fellow Hobbit.

But it was Thorins’ reaction that had you confused. He seemed…impressed?

Thorin turned towards Gandalf, a smirk of his own forming on his face. “Are you sure it was Mister Baggins you had wanted to join our quest?”

Gandalf chuckled and looked towards you and your husband, you now joined your side, who was silently scolding you with his eyes but nonetheless remaining the concerned, dotting husband. “I was certain on Mister Baggins being the 14th member of your company, but I would highly recommend you take a 15th as I believe Misses Baggins certainly has something of her own to bring to the quest.”

“They both have a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including themselves. You must trust me on this,” Gandalf finished.

Thorin looked at Gandalf and Gandalf at he for a moment, Thorin evidently mulling it over within his head before finally, he spoke. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. Give them the contract.”

Both yourself and Bilbo began to protest as Balin produced the document. He handed it over to Bilbo who unravelled the parchment and began to scan over the words, your eyes peering over his shoulder to read it for yourself.

As Bilbo and you busied yourselves with reading over the document, Thorin had leant over towards Gandalf to whisper within his ear. “I cannot guarantee their safety.”

“Understood,” Gandalf hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’ll be left responsible for their fate.”

“Agreed.”

Bilbo began to read aloud the text, brow furrowed out of concentration, your own face screwed up slightly, straining to peer at the words.

“Terms; cash on delivery up to but not exceeding 1 14th for total profit, if any. Seems fair, uhh-“

“Shouldn’t it be changed to 1 15th if I were to join?” you questioned aimlessly.

Bilbo nodded his head in agreement before continuing. “Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a government, thereof including but not limited to; lacerations. Evisceration?” He unfolds a piece further, reading before looking towards the group with a look of disbelief. “Incineration?!”

“Oh, aye. It’d melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur quipped with ease.

Many more ‘encouraging and reassuring’ words were spoken by Bofur, unnerving both yourself and Bilbo, though you hid it extremely well. The moment your husband passed out, was when Bofur seemed to finally relent.

“Oh dear.” You looked towards your husband laying on the floor unconscious with concern before turning towards the others with a worried expression.

Valar forbid you allow him to go with those dwarves and that conniving wizard alone.

_______________

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I mean, I don’t really have anything to say sooooo

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

LOTR / The Hobbit taglist:

@iwazoomingouttahere​ 

[bcdwhcre]

Could you write an scenario where Levi's S/O was tortured and now has many nightmares about it? Like... they are sleeping together and she wakes up screaming or he hears her crying asleep and cuddles her or idk... I just think is this kind of angsty fluff that I adore! Also I love your writting ♡

“PTSD,” Levi x Reader

Running out of gifs, using the same ones. Bear with me

Summary: having ptsd and Levi trying his best to comfort you.

Warnings: ptsd, torture, nightmares, abuse

Levi x Fem!Reader

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Pain was all you felt. An intense amount of pain as you were bound down to the chair and left alone with your own tears and blood. You didn’t know why, you couldn’t come up with the reason why you were down here.

Maybe it was because of your fathers crimes. Everyone hated him and before he could pay for what he did, he vanished and left that burden onto you. The people who were practically hit men used you as bait, maybe you getting beaten and tortured would have your father running to your side but little did they know that your father hated you too.

All you could hear is the laughter from the men and your screams echoing off the walls, skin being pulled off and fingernails being broken along with a few other broken bones. You were beaten senseless on a daily basis, you were sure you were going to die in that basement until somehow— you barely escaped with your life.

Your broken bones ached, your skin on fire and your body so weak but your bare feet kept running until you had ran into a MP, soon after that, everything was history. You joined the Scouts, only because you felt your whole personality change into some machine and it convinced you to join and be able to protect yourself.

Levi had seeked interest in you right away, the scars that stayed on your skin noticeable and the pain you wore- he could tell you needed some comfort and he could tell you’ve been through hell and he related to you in someway and eventually it turned into a relationship that neither of you were expecting.

It had taken weeks for him to convince you to sleep in his bed but you didn’t want to be a burden, you didn’t want to wake him from your endless amount of nightmares that replayed in your head every night but a part of you thought maybe his company can make the nightmares go away.

So there you were, laid out on his bed, wearing his shirt and a pair of sweats while his arms were lazily wrapped around your body, spooning you and burying his face in the back of your neck while breathing in your scent.

Levi was completely over the moon with you, you were someone kind and amazing inside and out but he didn’t know the true story of your scars and he didn’t pressure you. All he would do is gently trace his fingertips over the scars that stained your skin, reminding you of your worth and beauty.

You sighed as he slept behind you and you hesitated, you didn’t want to fall asleep, you didn’t want to scare him away- it already took you months for you to be comfortable with him. It took you months for you to allow him to be affectionate and touch you, you couldn’t even let him hug you or touch your hand because it made you flinch and it made you believe he was going to hit you.

But he always remained patient, he stayed with you and gave you all the love you deserved to make you feel worthy of love and affection. He stayed by you until you were comfortable enough to let him in and the day you randomly pulled him in for a hug, you startled him. He stood there, wide eyes and hesitated before his arms were securely around your body- making you feel safe.

An hour went by of you staring at his bedroom wall, hearing his soft snores and feeling his breath tickle the back of your neck before you had finally gave in and fell asleep, hoping you’ll have a happy dream for once- maybe of Levi.

But that’s not what happened.

Your dreams were always the same, the echoing of laughter and screaming as chains were yanked and a whip was slapped onto your skin. The slashes on your back open and bleeding uncontrollably. The cuts on your dirty skin had looked infected and were painful, the broken fingernails on your fingertips throbbed and made you cry for hours but your broken ribs had prevented you from crying for too long.

The constant fear you felt, the look on the older mans face as he enjoyed torturing you and making sure you were in severe pain. You’ve even pleaded with them a few times for them to end your life and kill you. One man stared at you, laughing while pressing a knife to your neck and split some of your skin open as your blood leaked onto the blade.

“Hm, not yet sweetheart, I’m not done with you.” He licked his lips as he stared down at you and it just made you feel disgusting.

One day they even tried to touch you inappropriately, cutting your shirt off but another man had stepped in and said it was going too far yet you laid there bleeding out slowly, what is too far for them?

Your body shook in your sleep, soft mumbles escaping your lips until it had woken Levi up from how much you were shaking against him. His tired eyes had moved down to look at you and stroked your hair back from your face.

“Y/N?” He mumbled, firmly grabbing onto your arm and tried to rub it to somewhat wake you up but it wasn’t working.

You were deep in your slumber, deep in your nightmare that all the pain felt completely real as it ran through your body and a startled scream had left your parted lips, frightening Levi and suddenly you shot up in bed.

Your breathing was heavy, tears had soaked your cheeks and you had forgotten about being in his room until his soft hand had reached out and rested on your back, making you flinch and startle him again.

“Hey, it’s just me.” He said quietly, his sad eyes looking into yours and that’s when you started to unravel and break down before him.

Uncontrollable sobs had left your lips, burying your face into your hands and just cried as he rubbed your back and try to be of some comfort. He wasnt all that great at it but he loved you too much to have you sitting here feeling like this.

You couldn’t handle your emotions, you were embarrassed and humiliated that he’s seen you like this, you never wanted to open that part of your past up but it was still bothering you, it was still torturing you and you just can’t seem to shake the past off.

He hesitated, watching you but his heart had broke into pieces seeing how fragile you really are beneath the tough act you pull everyday at work. He sighed, reaching over to wrap his arms around your small frame and pull you into his chest.

You continued to cry, tears sliding down and hitting his chest which made his shirt a bit wet but he didn’t mind- he was giving you time and giving you a moment to let your emotions out.

“I’m here, no one is going to lay a finger on you again, alright?” He assured you, his fingers brushing through your messy hair and you started to calm down, the feeling of his arms securely around you made you feel safe.

You sucked in a deep breath, small hiccups leaving your lips as your sad tear filled eyes stared into his and everything just felt calm again. His presence and his company just made everything a little better, made you feel like you were truly okay.

“I’m sorry.. this is why I was afraid of sleeping in your room.” You admitted, your voice shaky and he shook his head.

“Don’t be ashamed, I still have nightmares from when I was a kid too. It happens.” He mumbled, tucking your hair back behind your ear and you leaned into his soft touches.

You had sat up on the bed, a random feeling of wanting him to know everything, wanting to show him everything. Sure he’s seen the scars on your arms, legs and the small ones on your face but he’s never seen the worse of it underneath your shirt. You looked like some sick voodoo doll- full of stitches and scars.

Your small hands had gripped the edge of your shirt, his eyes watching you and once you were brave enough to lift it up over your head, leaving you in just your bra- he couldn’t hold back the sound he made as his breath hitched in his throat. He’s thought he’s seen it all, he thought he’s seen bad things but this pretty much took the win.

His eyes began to water, he was never the type to show pure emotions but when it came to you and how important you were to him, he couldn’t help the pain he felt in his empty heart. It’s like he can feel all the pain you endured all those years ago in that empty cold basement.

He took his time, leaning over and brushing his fingertips over the patches of skin and the scars that were on your back as tears streamed down his face and he shook his head, feeling angry.

“I don’t even know what to say.. I’m speechless..” He finally spoke up, lost for words as he stared at your skin and you sighed.

“You don’t have to say anything. My past is always going to haunt me and you might as well know, I don’t want to hide anything from you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him and he embraced you in another tight hug.

“You’re strong and you’re still beautiful.” He repeated, rubbing soft circles on your back and you buried your face into his shoulder, tears threatening to fall from your eyes again.

“You’re safe now.”

You couldn’t help the overwhelming pain you felt inside of your heart, it fluttered by his words but the reminder of your scars and being vulnerable enough to show him outweighed everything. You were terrified. Sure the guys who did this to you are locked away for good but you just felt scared all of the time. What if it happened again? It was constantly on your mind.

But Levi holding you in his arms as tight as he could without hurting you and the way his fingers danced on your skin to trace over your scars and remind you of his love for you, it made you feel safe. It made you fall even harder for him as you felt his lips press gentle kisses on your shoulder blade and even tilted his head to kiss your cheek.

You pulled back to look up at him in the dark, the moon shining the room bright enough to see his features and see the small smile on his face as he admired you and cupped your cheeks. It was hard for him to be this open and show this much emotion but you were worth everything to him, he risked being vulnerable and lovable for you.

“I know telling you about my past and being locked away tortured for weeks is horrible and probably made you think differently of me but..” You started to say but he was quick to cut you off.

“But nothing, why would I think differently of you? This just proves how strong I know you are. I’ll never think differently.” He mumbled, tracing his thumbs over your soft skin and your heart pounded inside of your chest.

You’ve never had someone like Levi, not one bit and having someone in front of you giving you everything you deserved and more was new but thrilling and it made you feel warm after being locked in a cold basement for what felt like years.

You were convinced after escaping that your life would never go back to normal or be normal, you never expected to find someone as loving and caring as him either but here he was, cradling you in the middle of the night making sure you felt okay and secure.

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Sorry for the lonnnnng wait. I actually enjoyed this one🥺

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

read bio before requesting pls

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

[joeys-piano]

A Taste for Him

Tomarry | Teen | 666 | AO3

A/N: Chocolate isn't his favorite flavor, but occasionally Tom makes an exception. And he does when there's a smidge of it near the corner of Harry's mouth, and if this is something he can savor, perhaps it's something he could want.

~~~~~~~~~~

Decadence and its cousins, like self-indulgence and corruption, never waited for a seat because they would always be invited, and they were welcomed to the tables like esteemed, honored guests who would whisper into your ear, press farther into your thigh, taste the candy from your hands, and then they pulled you to the side. And with a knowing kind of glint more befitting for an aunt, they unwrapped you from the rules meant to govern your every want.

With a smile for a smile before the hedon within their eyes looked more and more human as they unraveled who you were. That like a boggart — once they found it and uncovered what you’ve wanted — they shifted. But no one noticed, and only you could tell the tale.

Because they were nothing you’ve come to fear, they were everything you couldn’t break from. That the only way to banish them was to yield to your desires: that was the price for temptation as you never knew if you’d have it again.

That for a moment and only then and between the choices he could’ve had, Tom knew he wasn’t different from any student and from any man. Because his boggart, his decadence, his corruption, his want had him wrapped around their finger when in reality, they had not

Because Harry’s hands and Harry’s fingers — and the calluses upon them then — were wrapped around the handles of a bit of pudding and a silver spoon. That wobbled when Harry wobbled, jittered when Harry moved, and were wiped of any chocolate when Harry nibbled with every spoon.

But the only thing he couldn’t wipe was the bit of chocolate near his mouth and how it bruised him upon a corner until it was something like a kiss. Like a stain, a mark, a remnant of what he had done: Harry licked what he could feel, but he missed this by a mile. And there was no way he could’ve done that unless all of this was intentional.

Because Tom — he was weak — no, distracted. He was amused that the only version of his best friend he had his heart on was like this. Not the Seeker, the champion or the greatest duelist of their year; not the trouble but the troublemaker and the boy who was his friend.

Who didn’t care about decorum or the sanctity between Houses because willingly and on his own, he would sit with Tom and the Slytherins. And he never waited for a seat because he always had one at the table, and he was welcomed like a brother when Tom’s arm was wrapped around him. And it was secured along his shoulder like a stamp of damn approval; that if anyone had objections, it was Tom they had to hear from.

And maybe, that was why no one stopped him before he did this — approached Harry.

Before he swiped him, brushed him, and drew the chocolate from near his mouth. Until he dragged it from whence it were and what remained was a smear, fading lightly from Harry’s chin when he pulled away and with a smirk. And licked while Harry watched, while he sucked his own thumb.

That Merlin, the way he widened would make you think that Tom had asked him for private lessons on a broomstick and that before the night would end, he’d have won the golden snitch and in the shape of Harry’s heart. And feel it flutter around his skin because that was exactly how he felt when Harry won his with a bit of chocolate and with a stain near his mouth.

And now that Tom had gotten a taste, he could see why it was addicting — why the confection was a fan-favorite for indulgence and amusement. Because, if he could savor this and have it at any time, paired with Harry’s “oh” and the softness within his eyes, it wouldn’t be hard for Tom to reason that this was something he ought to have.

[tetsuroyaoyaoya]

✧ CAFÉ AU NAME ✧

pairing: barista!akaashi x f!reader

word count: 2,418

synopsis: you walk into akaashi’s back-alley coffee shop every thursday evening with a new book, a new order, and a new name.

The feathers of the duster glided over the counter, brushing off any loose beans onto the linoleum on the bar. Conscious of the time, Akaashi let his eyes wander over to the door expectantly. It was still an hour till closing time, but that’s not exactly what he was looking forward to. 

For the last two months or so, every Thursday evening, roughly an hour before close; in walked you. 

From the second you walked through the door, he was entranced by you, and his infatuation only deepened the more you visited his hidden little cafe.

Akaashi had never been one to have friends, besides ones he met through his old volleyball team, and there was definitely no girlfriend anywhere in the picture, so he didn't really know where to start when just one look at you made his heart tumble out of his chest.

And, becuase of course, there was another dilema on his mind; despite asking for your name every time he made your drink, he didnt actually know your real name yet. Every time you came in you had ordered something wildly different, along with a brand new name. The poor boy thought he was going insane.

The first time he had met you, it had been a sunny evening, and as usual, the shop was pretty much empty - only two customers and himself occupying the café. He was practically begging for something to do before the bell on the door chimed, signalling another entry.

For the first time in his life, Akaashi had to physically pause in shock as he laid eyes on you. He quickly caught himself out and slipped right back into his role, but the fact that you had caught his attention enough to distract him like that was baffling to him.

"Good evening. What can I get started for you?" His eyes followed you as you approached the counter gracefully, smiling at him before squinting up at the menu.

"Ah... hazelnut mocha? Yeah, regular size, please." Akaashi resisted the urge to chuckle at your indecisiveness.

"And a name for that?" You rained an eyebrow slightly, eyes darting around the shop, noting how empty it was. Akaashi has realised his mistake, but it was both a mistake of habit and just a petty excuse to learn your name.

"Elizabeth." Once again, Akaashi was rendered speechless. It seemed his surprise didn't go unnoticed either as you attempted to hide your giggle behind the book he hasn't realised you were holding. he tried to catch the title, but didn't get the chance as you had composed yourself before he could even blink. 

He cleared his throat and moved to the till, where he quickly tapped your order into the machine. He tried desperately not to blush when your hands brushed as you handed him the money for your drink, and decided to focus on making your drink instead of studying your face. 

However, because of this, he completely missed the way your eyes followed him as he danced across the bar, first for the syrup, then for the chocolate. It was as if you would miss the entire show if you took your eyes off of him. He moved so fluently it was if the process was ingrained into his body. You continued to watch as he allowed the chocolate to steam unsupervised while he prepared the espresso, savouring the scent of the coffee as he pulled the shots. 

You noticed a slight change in the sound to the steam, as did he, and without even looking he turned the lever to stop it, while also pouring the the espresso into the mug and swirling it together. The pouring felt like some sort of performance, with the way he held the jug so lightly, gently and precisely guiding the chocolate into the mug, wiggling it to make a gorgeous pattern on top. 

He placed the drink on a saucer, pairing it with a spoon and a little biscuit that he had pulled from seemingly nowhere. You smiled gratefully as he pushed it over to you, barely able to meet your eyes. 

“If you want a quiet place to read, the corner over there with the ferns is probably your best bet,” He nodded over to a little nook across the shop and you could see what he meant, it was secluded, and all other tables were faced away from it, but you could still see out over the entire store, especially with it being so small. 

“They’re fake... in case, you know... allergies?’ Giggling, you tucked your book under your arm in order to use both hands to carry the drink over to the table. A you did, Akaashi finally got a good look at the spine. 

‘Pride and Prejudice’

Elizabeth, of course.

“I’ll be here if you need anything.” With one last nod in thanks, you left the counter, allowing the barista to breathe again without the fear or stuttering or stumbling over his words. 

The second time he met you it has already turned cold, and frost was beginning to creep its way up the café windows. Luckily, it was nice and toasty inside the shop, and with an unlimited supply of hot drinks at his fingertips, it couldn’t be any better.

Except, it could. 

Akaashi was actually meant to be training up a new barista today, and yet he was distracted, thinking about a certain customer that he hasn't seen in a full week now. Who did he think he was? Falling in love at first sight only to possibly never see you again? It was just his luck. 

The owner was drawn out of his thoughts as he heard a hiss of pain, immediately looking over to see said new barista with a hand now covered in scalding hot coffee. He sighed, but quickly grabbed the cloth he kept in his apron pocket. Wiping the trainee’s hand, he instructed them to run it under cold water for as long as possible to make sure it didn't blister.

As they walked away, Akaashi faintly heard the door chime, and ran a hand through his hair in order to calm himself before speaking to a customer. 

“Hi, what can I- oh...” You stood across the counter, warm eyes peeking out from where your neck and mouth were buried in the biggest, fluffiest scarf Akaashi thought he’d ever seen. He heard a small chuckle and you reached up to unravel yourself from the bundle of fabric. 

“Stressed?” Your voice was soft when you finally freed yourself. Akaashi could only give you a nod and a small smile in response, aware of his trainee’s return to the machine. A quick once-over told him that they were fine and he could continue with their training. 

“What can I get you today?” It only took one look between the two baristas to understand the situation, and you immediately took pity on the owner, deciding to order something simple to be nice. 

“Just a latte, thank you.” The more experienced barista smiled at you gratefully, and put the transaction through the till before taking your money. 

“And a name for that?” He suggested playfully, mostly in reference to his mistake the last time the two of you met.

“Emma.” He almost laughed, eyeing the new book you were holding. A fan of Jane Austen then. Akaashi opened his mouth to say something else when he was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of breaking glass behind him. It was a good thing he turned away in a panic the second he heard it, or else he would have seen you jump out of your skin in surprise. 

The whole café seemed to become even quiter than it already was for a few moments, only Akaashi’s soothing murmer present in the silence. He once again made sure that the trainee was alright before instructing them to step away so that he could clean up the mess. He disappeared for a moment before returning with a sweeping brush. With a smile, albeit a nervous one, he told you to sit down to wait rather than remaining at the counter. 

“Get comfy, it may be a minute.”

The third time you returned to his little café, Akaashi was too busy already serving a customer to greet you immediately. He was so distracted that he hadn't even heard the chime of the bell on the door, which was unusual. What did attract his attention to you however, was the odd sniffle every minute or so to his left. He slipped his gaze over you in time to see you desperately trying to hold back a sneeze, nose scrunched in the cutest way possible, sleeve ready to catch it. 

With a quiet chuckle he quickly finished up with his current customer, handing the order over to his trainee, who had surprisingly improved by miles in the past week, and was now able to handle the standard drinks to an acceptable degree. 

As the customer moved on, he watched you with an amused smile as you practically waddled up to the counter, no scarf today, but instead a chunky sweater that more of less buried you, barely visible fingers clutching your book choice for this week - Sense and Sensibility. 

He raised an eyebrow expectantly and you rolled your eyes. Despite the scarf the previous visit, you had managed to catch a cold last week from the freezing wind you walked through to get to the café, and you still hadn't fully recovered yet.

“Afternoon, Elinor.” Your eyes widened as he guessed you name for this week before you even had chance to order, but it brought an excited smile to your face.

“Something strong... uh, a... ugh!” He snickered at your frustration and you scowled, a crease in your brow, but he couldn't take you seriously with the bright pink flush across your cheeks the cold had given you. 

“A cappuccino!” You announced triumphantly, but quickly calmed yourself in slight embarrassment as you realised you might have been just a tad too loud. Akaashi was clearly enjoying your playfulness today, but made no comment, thankfully.

“Chocolate dusting?” You perked up again at that, but remained sheepish.

“Extra, please?” He put your order through the till as he always did, and you stalked off to find your usual seat as he handed it off to the trainee. 

The fourth time you stopped by, the cold spell has finally disappeared, and the glow of the evening light shining through the windows was slightly warmer than it had been recently. 

Despite this, the sight of the improved weather was immediately dampened when you walked in, such a tired expression on your face that Akaashi physically stopped in his track out of worry. You always had such a happy smile that seeing you without it seemed so strange. 

At the look on his face, you tried your hardest to smile like you usually did, but you could both that it was horribly forced, and you gave up quickly. 

“Choose for me today, ‘kaashi.” He didn't know what surprised him more - the nickname or the fact that you knew his name in the first place. Obviously it was on his name tag that you saw every time you were in the shop, but he hadn't expected you to actually remember it. 

He couldn't help the strange feeling in his stomach, both in worry and... something else that he couldn't quite place the feeling of. 

“This one’s on me. Jane today?” Even with your mood, you were never without your precious book. A quick look at the cover told him that it was Jane Eyre today, his favourite. 

You opened your mouth to protest, but one stern look from Akaashi shut you right up. You gave him a thankful smile, a genuine one, and slowly walked off to take your usual spot.

Akaashi waited until you had your back turned to quickly switch places with his other barista in order to personally make your drink today. The other barista was shocked at his hurry, but shook their head with a smile at the action. They had witnessed enough interactions between the two of you to understand. 

The next week, Akaashi waited all day and all evening, so worried about last week and how you left without a word that he couldn't even focus on his work because he just needed to see you to make sure you were okay. 

But you never came.

He was upset, but you were probably busy, or something had happened, but the though of an incident of some sort only put him even more on edge than he already was. 

With a sigh, he exited the shop, adjusting the bag on his shoulder so that he could place the key in the door to lock it. He was about to turn the metal when he heard frantic footsteps behind him. Akaashi glanced back to see you, rushing as quickly as you could, jacket billowing behind you as you made it towards him. 

You came to a stop just next to him, hands on your knees as you attempted to catch your breath as Akaashi stared down at you in bewilderment. As you finally stood straight, you smiled heavily, breaths still laboured.

“Work meeting ran over,” you tried to explain, “you aren't closed yet, are you?” You could clearly see him with the key in the door, but he could hear the evident disappointment in your voice. 

“Depends.” Hope flooded your features and the absolute joy on your face would have made him give in if he hadn't already. 

“On?” Even if he didn't know it, you could see plain as day how dejected he looked today, and you had an inkling that it was to do with your lack of appearance. 

“Tell me your name.” The was a slight pause, before you giggled at the simple condition, causing Akaashi to turn his head away as to hide from you how contagious your smile really was.

“Y/N.” You held your hand out, having never been happier to introduce yourself to someone. 

“Keiji, nice to meet you.” He took your hand in his and shook it, lingering for a moment before letting to go to take the key out of the door and open it, gesturing you inside with a smile. 

You brought books to places with you to loose yourself in someone else’s fantasy, but maybe you had found your real-life fairytale. 

masterlist

[oftenderweapons]

Steamy Waters — Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten), Namjoon x Vixen (mentioned)

Wordcount: 8.7k words

Genre: smut, a tinyyyyy bit of angst, pwp, established relationship, idol!au

Rating: very18+ 

Hello strawberries! With Namjoon’s Steamy Waters we saw the guys leaving for tour, with Yoongi we see them come back. Of course there will be a few things happening in between the two fics, but that will come later (see it as some special piece similar in terms of genre to Girls’ Night). Quick recap of the plot: Yoongi comes back from tour and Kitten is there to greet him. It has been a long day, and a he’s been away for a long time: the two decide to head to the shower to help Yoongi get rid of his travelling filth and help Kitten get rid of her bitter feelings. (AKA that one time Yoongi finally convinced Kitten to move in with a very unorthodox method.)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: filth. Swearing. Sarcasm. Dirty Talking. Slight angst (Yoongi’s shoulder is sore; Kitten finds condoms in his travel bag and she is afraid of cheating, even though she knows Yoongi is 3000% faithful, past relationship trauma). Shower blowjob, cum swallowing, cock worship and breast worship, lots of ass grabbing (both male and female receiving); again, Yoongi wakes her up with oral which is something he does a lot but still, it’s non explicitly consensual since she’s sleeping, he asks for consent as soon as she wakes up. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (GET TESTED BEFORE GOING BARE WITH YOUR PARTNER. PLEASE. USE CONDOMS UNLESS YOU’RE 1000% SURE YOU’RE CLEAN). Spooning sex, fingering, he uses his fingers as a gag. Multiple rounds and very multiple orgasms and squirting. Mentions of a cocksleeve. Mentions of anal sex; mild anal play (female receiving), mentions of rimming (female receiving). Use of a G-spot vibrator with remote control via smartphone, squirting, cunnilingus and face riding, crying, slight degradation, use of safeword, old school missionary jackhammering, choking kink. On a side note, reader is bisexual and everybody has a crush for Vixen

If you want background music for reading I suggest playing the whole About Time album by Sabrina Claudio or Over It (complete set) album by Summer Walker. [Thank me later 😉] 

Finally, here is my masterlist and well, Enjoy!!! ✨💜

———————————

You stood in the middle of the underground parking lot of Yoongi’s apartment, waiting for his van to arrive from the airport. Today he was back from the tour and you’d taken a few days off work to spend time with him.

You stood there, checking some emails on your phone when the doors of the lift opened on a dolled up Vixen. 

You had seen her wear black, blue and white quite consistently, head to toe impeccable at all times. That’s why you had to do a double take when you saw her in a pink, frilly, tiny sundress that looked like it could unravel if you stared at it for too long. 

“Am I late?” She asked, only to stare at you and realise that if you were there waiting, then no, they hadn’t arrived yet. “Sorry, dumb question, I’m just excited.” She smiled nervously, fixing non-existent creases on her dress.

“There’s a bit of traffic. They’ll be here in a minute, though.” You explained, putting down your phone. “Plans for a date?” You asked her, looking at her outfit.

“No, actually. I just wanted to dress pretty.” She said, elegant and sweet as usual. 

You smiled and looked at your oversized, worn-out T-shirt from a rockband you listened to when you were a teen, and the loose cotton shorts that reached your mid-thigh, paired with casual flip flops. You weren’t even wearing your nice bra. Not that Yoongi would care about that once he took your shirt off. Bras were just a nuisance to him anyway. 

“Are you on vacation?” She asked, checking her phone before locking it again. It lit up again with a notification, her lockscreen showing a picture of a boy staring at a sculpture. No doubt, Namjoon. 

“No, just took a few days off.” You replied kindly. You checked your phone yourself. “You and Joon are going on holiday?”

“Just a quick getaway.” She explained, beaming at you. She looked radiant, as if the last seven weeks had never existed. But her face looked slimmer. Her arms too. You had often met at the gym, spending time together and working out, ‘to stop thinking’ she had said. And you had bonded like that, over working out to stop your brains and dull your edges while your boyfriends were away. 

You tried not to think if Namjoon was going to propose while they were away. Yoongi had mentioned the man was considering the idea. “Then have a safe journey and a nice holiday.” You said, grinning. “Hope you can get your fill of him.” You said smirking. 

She caught the innuendo mischievously. “Trust me, I will.” She replied before winking. 

The bar to the parking lot lifted, before a black van entered the space, stopping a few slots away from you. 

Vixen was basically skipping on her toes, ready to throw herself at her boyfriend. Beside her, you felt like a flock of hummingbirds had been caged inside your chest, the fluttering feeling almost uncomfortable. When you heard the doors open, your ears stopped working, blood pressure making them perceive nothing but a dull beeping sound. 

Namjoon appeared from the door, Vixen dashing to him and throwing her whole body into his arms as he picked her up. The whole scene was very romantic and dramatic — just in their style —, almost making you sneer in a mysanthropistic fit, however the smaller figure appearing behind the lovey dovey couple made you reconsider your hatred towards humanity. 

Let’s be clear, you weren’t normally this sour, but seven weeks without Yoongi had taken their toll, and all you wanted was to incinerate every couple until he had had his sweet way with you and you weren’t underloved and underorgasmed anymore. 

“No dramatic welcome back for me?” He asked, staring at you from the distance with his hands on his hips. “No balloons and banners?” He shook his head. “You’re a disappointment.” He grinned at you. 

“You’re sucking your own dick tonight.” You teased back, Namjoon and Vixen too caught up in their idyllium to bother with your bantering. 

He shrugged. “Thank you for letting me know.” He opened his arms and you walked towards him, hugging him tight as he did just the same, your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him. “Hi, Kitten.”

“Hello, Yoongles.” You said, your voice emotional. 

“I’m sorry, I smell a bit.” He said, thinking about all those hours on the plane. 

“Not really.” You said, nuzzling into his neck, reacquainting with his cologne. “You’re as good as usual.”

His hands rubbed up and down your spine. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s too hot outside today and I could kill for a shower right now.”

The back of the van was already open as Namjoon took out the suitcases. 

“Hyung. Here is yours.” He said, letting it roll towards Yoongi. 

He thanked and caught it, sprawling his left hand over the top of it before catching the handle. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the tendons and veins just below the pale skin, jumping and flexing at the effort. 

You had missed those hands. Dearly. Deliriously. 

As he noticed your focused stare, he smirked, his other hand searching for your fingers, intertwining them with his. “I have my backpack too. Careful, there’s equipment inside.” Said Yoongi, pulling at your arm as he neared the back of the van and grabbed his stuff. 

“Let me get that.” You said, fussing over him. He looked tired and thin. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Not too bad.” He said. “A bit crumpled up because of the long trip and the air conditioning, but overall not bad.” He let you take the backpack though, showing you that yes, it was probably not nice. 

“I’ll have a cold pack ready upstairs.” You said, kissing his temple. The boys and Vixen said goodbye to the driver as he left, leaving the four of you trying to fit inside the lift.

It wasn’t too difficult and you were grateful that Namjoon stayed mostly silent even as his hand kept drawing patterns on the back of Vixen’s naked thigh, climbing decisively too high — and too under her dress — for public decency. Not that he noticed you or Yoongi staring and looking at each other conspiratorially, trying to find ways to tease him about it in the future. 

Anyway, Yoongi drew you close with an arm around your waist, whispering in your ear, “I’m just as needy myself.”

You turned to look at him with a knowing smirk. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” You whispered back, pressing your brow to the side of his head. 

Luckily, the doors dinged and opened, making the sweethearts quit their endeavours and hurriedly grab the suitcase and the smaller carryon. Next, you took care of Yoongi’s luggage, helping him slide it down the corridor, to the door of his apartment. Namjoon and Vixen stood in front of the door beside you while he opened the front door to their apartment and brought his stuff in. 

“I don’t think I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Namjoon commented. 

“I don’t think so, no.” Yoongi replied chuckling as you raised your eyebrows and looked away, avoiding Namjoon’s knowing smirk. 

“Then have a nice break. Guess I’ll text you.” Namjoon replied. 

“Of course.” Yoongi said. 

“Kitten,” Namjoon greeted with a small nod. 

You waved at him, at the same time as Vixen said goodbye to the both of you and Namjoon picked her up again. 

“We didn’t tell them to keep it down.” Yoongi realised after staring at the closed front door for a couple seconds. 

“We could sleep in your studio.” You reasoned with a doubtful pout. 

Yoongi’s expression unintentionally mirrored yours. 

“Shall we?” You said, gesturing to the door.

He placed his arm around your waist and dragged you in. “I’m not strong enough to carry you like that.” He said, closing the door. 

“They’re so disgustingly sweet.” You replied, shaking your head and combing his hair with your fingers. He looked so good with black hair. 

“You say that only ‘cause it’s been too long since I last fucked you.” He replied, ignoring the suitcases and placing his lips on yours, chastely, sweetly. 

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, rubbing his lips on yours tenderly. 

“I’ve missed you too.” You replied, placing your hands on his ass and pushing him closer to you. 

“I love you.” He murmured with his deliriously sexy voice. 

“I love you.” You echoed, squeezing his behind eloquently. 

He grinned. “Did Namjoon give you ideas?” He said, referring to the lift scene. 

“I’m just appreciating the small things in life.” You quipped, making him part from you with an outraged frown.

“My ass is not that small.” He opposed. 

“You are small.” You replied, cupping his face and squishing his cheeks. 

“You have clearly forgotten how it feels to have my cock inside you.” He teased right back, gripping your ass himself and pushing you against his front, making you feel his hardening length. 

“Maybe you could give me a reminder.” You wondered. 

“I need a shower.”

“And I need to blow you, which, in my opinion, makes an excellent combination.” You said reasonably. 

He grinned and shook his head. “Fuck, if I missed you.”

“Yes ‘fuck, if I missed you’, but also fuck me, please?” You said, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands with your palms up in front of him in a helpless pose. 

“Let’s get that shower first, yeah.” He rubbed his hands up and down your sides. “You’ve waited so long that you can wait a bit longer, right.”

“I repeat, you’re this close to sucking your own dick tonight.” You warned jokingly.

“Then we can have that shower and let you blow me before you change your mind.” He teased, calming you down with heavy touches to your cheeks and hair.

He was secretly enjoying the feel of you in front of him, getting reacquainted with the materiality of you, with the joy of feeling you at his side, of feeling you, full stop. He had never known he could miss touching someone. Innocently, attentively and lovingly. 

He had missed the feel of you under his hands. Combing your hair, hiding his nose in the crook of your neck, holding your hands. 

Holding your hands. 

He felt like he could do just that as you fell asleep on the bed. 

He felt so tired. 

“Let’s go.” You said, noticing his tired gaze. 

“The bags.” He said, pointing at his luggage in the entry. 

“Later.” You replied, squeezing his hand and leading the way to the bathroom adjoined to your bedroom. 

“How was the journey?” You asked, taking off your shirt once you entered the bathroom door. 

“Tiring. Very long. We had a long delay due to the connecting flight being late.”

“You had a connecting flight?” You said, incredulous, stopping as you were taking off your shorts. 

“Well, it’s pretty difficult finding direct flights from Europe to South Korea.” He said, taking off his own shirt. 

You turned around to look at his naked torso. It was pale as usual, more sculpted, but barely, still you immediately spotted the slightest curve on his belly and relaxed. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Next he took off his loose linen sweats, a pair of plain white boxers emerging underneath. His calves were slightly bronzed, and as he noticed you staring he explained. “I stayed out with Hoseok one afternoon. I had bermudas on.” He pouted. 

“My poor little cracker.” You cooed, getting closer to him in nothing but your underwear. As he hugged you, his hands went immediately to the clasp of your bra, unlatching it. 

Grinning, you took it off and offered it to him, who threw it hatefully behind his shoulders. “I hate that shit.” He sneered, before cupping each of your breasts and pushing them up, planting his face snug in between. 

“I missed you.” He mouthed, kissing both. 

You giggled. “Are you talking to my tits.”

“I am appreciating the great things of life.” He murmured. 

“I hope appreciating them includes covering them in hickeys and cum.” You commented, caressing his hair as he kept trying to suffocate himself between your boobs. 

“What if I appreciated your dirty mouth first?” He teased, opening the tap to the shower and feeling the water temperature with the palm of his hand before bending down to take off his boxers. 

His cock was half mast, as glorious as you remembered it, the hair around kept just long enough to stay soft. 

As he noticed you staring, he snickered. “It looks like you really want to reacquaint with it.”

“Says the man who said ‘I missed you’ to my tits.” You teased.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, getting under the water falling from the shower head. 

Taking off your panties, you followed him in. 

“You look beautiful, Kitten.” He said, “a bit too thin, though.” He commented, running his hands up and down your sides. 

“All those nights in the gym took a toll.” You replied. 

“I still can’t believe you actually went to the gym.” He said, kissing your lips as light as a butterfly. “And just because you wanted to fuck but I was away.”

You shrugged, “the alternative was starting a very sapphic tryst with Vixen, but I don’t think Namjoon would have condoned it.”

Yoongi chuckled, “No, I don’t think so.” He admitted, massaging your ass under his palms. “Nice improvement.”

“I did Vixen’s workout. That girl is a fucking power plant.” You shook your head. “Completely crazy.”

“She is after all Namjoon’s girlfriend. I’m surprised he called her Vixen and not bunny or rabbit.” He shook his head. 

“Enough with the sweethearts. Give me the D, mr Min.” You said, getting on your knees. 

He laughed and ran his hand through your hair, while you scooted back towards the wall. You precisely knew how you wanted him. 

“Kitten. What is it.” He asked, looking at the way you parted your legs and crouched, making sure that your spine and the back of your head pressed against the wall, your heels tucked under your ass.

“I want you to fuck my mouth?” You said, eyes imploring, your hands already running down the back of his thighs, trying to bring him close. 

“You sure?” He asked, licking his lips repeatedly, swallowing once and then again in an attempt to bring comfort to his dry mouth. 

“Yeah.” You replied, looking up at him bringing your hand between your legs, testing your own wetness.

Your eyes met as he stroked his length a couple times before feeding the tip of his cock into your mouth, parted wide for him. “Tell me how deep I can go.” He murmured, pushing in slowly.

You placed your hands on his hips, pushing him deeper into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, covering the edge of your teeth and bobbing your head tentatively. His hand moved protectively to the crown of your head, trying to keep your head from hitting the wall. 

“Easy, tiger,” He said, chuckling, before his laugh stopped, interrupted by a moan. “Kitten, that's deep.” He murmured as you pushed him past the back of your tongue and deep into your throat. You kept him there for a couple seconds, focusing on the feel of him to avoid choking, before pushing him away. 

He placed the other hand on the wall, holding up his weight. “Are you okay, love?” He asked, noticing your reddened eyes and heavy breath. 

“Yes.” You murmured. “It feels so good to have you back.” You said, elated, as you pulled him back into your mouth, asking him with delicate motions of your arms to thrust into you.

“Missed your lips. Your tongue,” he moaned, groaning as you squeezed your cheeks against his tip. “So fucking good.” He combed your hair back and moved the hand from the wall to your chin, making you look up to him. “Look at me, ____.” He ordered you. “I want to look into your eyes as I fuck your mouth.” He leaned his forearm against the wall, plunging in with a gentle curl of his hips, his mouth wide, the water falling down his spine, his black locks plastered against his forehead. “I love your mouth. Your nasty tongue.” He drew out. “Touch yourself.” He growled, teasing you with his sexy voice. 

“Yoongi.” You moaned as he slid out. “Please.” You whimpered. 

“Please what, kitty.” He said, touching your face. 

“I want you to cum.” You cried out, scratching his abdomen lightly. 

“How do you want that?” He asked, brushing a few loose strands of hair off your face. 

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” You repeated, eager, your fingers rubbing in between your legs. 

“Then let me give you what you want, love.” He purred, grabbing his shaft and placing the soft, reddish tip right on your lower lip. “Is this what you want?” 

You nodded, begging him with your longing glance. 

He grinned sinfully and let his hip arch forward. 

He entered your mouth with a slow and steady stroke, giving you time to prepare yourself, until he was all the way in. 

“I'll never forget how it feels, Kitten. I've spent hours thinking about this.” He groaned, his chest heaving. 

And then he slipped out, only to stroke in again. You moaned a bit, and then kept quiet, focusing on the feel of him, on his eyes screwed shut, on the rhythmic contractions of his belly, on the flexing of his quads and his glutes. 

He was so beautiful, lost in bliss, chasing his high, stopping only when you tapped his leg twice. 

He let the tip rest on your tongue, “love that dirty mouth.” He praised you as you slurped and twirled your tongue around him. “Can never resist it.” He went on. 

Once more you pulled him towards you, humming wantonly. 

“Close, Kitten. Need your… Yes.” He groaned as you reached for his balls. “Sq–” 

He didn't have the time to give you orders: you were already doing his favourite things, massaging his sensitive spot, squeezing him gently until he sank deep into you and went silent for a couple seconds, not even breathing before he let a raspy roar tear from his mouth and echo in the small space. 

You shut your eyes tight as he gave the smallest thrust, burrowing deep into you as he spilled inside you, the lack of oxygen getting to your head, but still you tried opening your eyes, looking at Yoongi's lips hanging open, gasping for hair. 

His chest expanded in a deep breath. “For fuck’s sake.” His eyes opened slightly. 

He was leaning over you, the light dimmed by his body shielding you, the sound of the water precipitating against the floor a bit too loud for his ears and your own. 

You touched his leg twice and his eyes shot open as he slipped out quickly. “Damn it, you okay, Kitten?” He knelt between your legs, touching your cheeks and taking in your closed eyes and your chest heaving as you finally got some brand new oxygen in your lungs. 

“A bit short of breath.” You whispered, leaning into his touch and nuzzling into the crook of his neck. 

“Oh, precious.” He moved his hands behind your back, hugging you close. “Poor thing.”

“Don’t baby me.” You mumbled, raking your nails down his back, making him shiver.

“No?” He asked, smiling softly, rubbing his cheek against your hair. “You’re a tough cookie?”

You nodded with your eyes closed and he snickered. 

“My tough cookie.” He murmured, patting your head. “I missed you so much, beautiful. I love you.”

You untucked yourself from his shoulder and looked at him in the eye. “I love you, too.” You cooed. 

“What can I do for you, ____?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You dipped your head forward, hiding into him. “I want you close.” He felt his heart melt. 

“You don’t want me to fuck you?” He asked, simply caressing your head as you mouthed at his throat.

“Let’s finish the shower first.” You said, parting from him and standing up. 

He placed a chaste kiss on your hip as you stood before him, his tongue delving between your legs, tasting your honey-clad folds. “I swear the taste of your cunt keeps getting better and better.”

“We can take this to bed, Yoongi, now stand up and let me wash your hair.” You murmured, running your hands into his dark locks 

“You could wash my hair while I make out with your pussy.” He suggested. 

“I need to focus, stand up you menace.” You smirked playfully. 

He obeyed, bending his head forward, planting it between your tits. 

“Yoongi!” You said, playfully outraged. 

“Oh, come on.” He murmured. Immediately he found his usual spot and took it past his lips, sucking it with his teeth, rubbing it with his tongue while you found the bottle of his shampoo and poured some in your palm, rubbing your hands together and spreading the foam over his hair. 

“Don’t be a whiny pup.” You scolded him, spreading the soap over his scalp, carefully avoiding it going into his eyes. 

As he felt your fingers massaging his head, making sure that all the shampoo was rinsed off his hair, his lips accidentally parted in a wide yawn. 

“Let’s go to bed.” You murmured, maybe for the first time since you saw him downstairs, the dark circles underneath his eyes. 

You closed the tap quickly, stretching to reach a towel and drying him up, pressing the towel to his pained shoulder, dabbing the cotton softly before peppering a cascade of kisses on the skin. “We’re gonna put some lotion on this baddie.” You said, smiling gently at him. “Does it hurt?” Your lips still caressing his skin there while you kept drying him up, knowing how dangerous it was for him to stay wet under the air conditioning. He was delicate and something inside you, something affectionate and apprehensive, made you want to pamper him. 

“A bit.” He said, pouting, feeling like he could drop his facade now, abandoning himself to your gentle care.

He yawned again. “You had your orgasm and now you’re sleepy, kitty cat?” You teased, cooing at him cutely.

“I’m a bit jet-lagged,” he admitted, stealing a towel and opening it up, cupping your breasts from over the cotton, and then moving his attention elsewhere, brushing your belly, your arms, kneeling down and placing a small kiss on your lower belly, before rubbing the fabric over your legs, first one, then the other, helping your foot up and drying first your left, then your right one. 

“Where’s the lotion?” You asked, kissing his brow as he stood up. 

“In the carryon. It’s with the toiletries.” 

You quickly wrapped your towel around your body, exiting the room and looking for his large suitcase. You opened it, his laundry neatly folded inside, his beauty bag perfectly fitting in. As you rummaged into his beauty bag, you frowned, spotting a familiar bottle of lube and a small silicone pocket. A few condoms loose among his toiletries. 

Something in you hesitated. Even though you knew Yoongi would never, ever look at someone else, old ghosts of your ex immediately started tormenting you. 

You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling, blinking a few times before grabbing his shoulder lotion and heading for the kitchen, immediately finding a cold pack inside the freezer, and bringing it to the bedroom. You looked inside a drawer, finding a little kerchief or a bandana — whatever it was — and bringing it to the bedside table. 

Yoongi was laying in the middle of the bed, looking at you as you obstinately avoided his gaze. 

“Lay on your side.” You asked gently but coldly before he obeyed, still a bit confused at your change in mood. Was it because he hadn’t fucked you? Maybe you were okay with it, but now you weren’t anymore? Were you disappointed?

You poured some cold lotion on the round muscle, following the instruction he had taught you before he left, when he came home tired and sore from practice. And then again, his therapist had taught you some small tricks after the concert in Seoul, when you had accompanied him to the doctor the following day for his ordinary session. 

He hissed as the cold gel met his skin, while your thumbs dug into the skin gently but surely, massaging the stressed muscle. “It’ll warm up.” You said simply, spreading the lotion and massaging it where flesh and bone met. 

You opened the cold pack, cracking it in the middle and placing it behind his shoulder, where his shoulderblade and collarbone met. locking it into place by tying the bandana around it, running it around his armpit. “There you go. I’ll go rinse my hands.”

You hadn’t kissed him. Or looked at him. 

“Kitten.” He called, but you were already walking into the joined bathroom, willingly ignoring his call.

You opened the tap, rubbing the heavy stench of the gel off your hands, and then placing your clean, wet, cold palms against your cheeks, trying to calm down. 

You grabbed one of his t-shirts before you lowered the blinds, walking towards the bed and laying down on your side of the bed, curled up in a ball and sliding under the covers after turning on the air purifier. His eyes opened as you laid down, 

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” He asked. 

“I’m cold.” You replied briefly. 

“Kitten.” He called again. 

You turned away from him, taking a few deep breaths, pondering whether you should talk or not. 

“Kitten.”

“I found the condoms. In your bag.” You voice shook. “I know you would never do what he did but still.”

“Goodness.” He murmured, his breath freezing in his lungs. “Fuck. Kitten. Don’t.” He said calmly, with a reassuring tone, coming closer to you, hugging you to his chest, his tender arm coming around your body, while his good one moved under your head, pillowing it. “They’re there from when you came to our concert in Busan. Remember?” He said, kissing the crown of your head. “Remember Busan?”

You nodded. Of course you remembered. “I do.” You had changed birth control and you had used the condoms for safety. And accidentally — since you were already equipped — you had tried anal for the first time, quite to your surprise.  

“And I kept them there. Hoping that maybe you could find a way to come to one of the concerts. That maybe we could have a couple nights somewhere.” He explained, intertwining your fingers. “No one else. I swear to God, no one else, Kitten. No one else, ____.” 

You relaxed in his hold, kissing his arm under your head. “I’m so sorry. I know you would never. I trust you, but… You know how it feels.”

“I do, love. I know you trust me, baby.” He kissed your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, being so strong, my love.” 

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, slowly slipping into complete relaxation. Even though you knew feeling him inside you would be the best form of reassurance, you abandoned the idea. Because, as much as you’d love him to ruin you, what you had missed the most while he was away was his hands combing your hair before falling asleep, his chest expanding and deflating against your back as he slept behind you, his hand gently placed on your chest, while you simply laid there, basking in the peacefulness of being together. You missed combing his hair, feeling the weight of his head resting in your arms, kissing his temple as he laid his head on your shoulder, you watching a movie while he pretended not to nap.

“There you go, Kitten.” He murmured against your nape, sprinkling little pecks all over your upper back. “I missed you.” He whispered, again, losing count of how many times he had said it. His body relaxed behind yours, his mind already thinking how he could possibly offer you true reassurance later — and repay you for the blowjob. In kind. With interests. Once he was sure you were sleeping, he stood up, looking into the drawer of your bedside table and smirking once he found the small case together with the charger. 

He considered he’d better recharge it and avoid unfortunate mishaps, he unplugged your bedside lamp and connected the charger, plugging it into the toy. Satisfied with the potential developments, he curled up around you; his eyelids fluttered closed, his yawns becoming stronger and more frequent, sleep conquering his body as your own muscles loosened with Morphean abandon. 

————————————

When Yoongi woke, it was already sundown, a gentle orange light coming in from the window. Around seven pm. 

First, he noticed that his shoulder felt better. Next, he noticed that you were wearing a shirt. 

Disappointing. 

And next, he realised that he was home. At your side. In your bed. 

Finally, he realised that he hadn’t yet seen you cum. He had been home for around six hours and he had spent the majority of those sleeping. When he could have made you cum on his tongue several times. 

He started considering his options. 

With quiet and discretion, he parted from your sleeping form, heading for the small drawer where he kept bedsheets, towels, underwear and sleeping clothes. There, under a blanket, he found exactly what he was looking for. 

“Yes.” He huffed out, placing his treasure on the drawer and fixing the rest, moving back to the bed together with the soft object. He removed the cold pack from his shoulder and spread the small two-layers blanket on the free side of the bed, planning to lay it out fully once he managed to wake you up. 

Now he only had to rouse you. 

He arched his eyebrows, thinking of how he could do that without getting his cock bitten off. 

You were a very smart and adult woman, but still you took your naps very seriously, acting like a whiny child whenever someone interrupted them. 

He crawled on top of the bed, curling up in a ball below you, pressing his knees to his shoulders as he gave a tentative lick on your naked labia, his tongue insinuating between your folds until he found your sweet nectar. 

Your hips moved against his face, just barely, an involuntary movement of your body. You were still asleep. 

He gave a full lick, as far as your position allowed. 

You fussed in your sleep, maybe mumbling his name, or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He lifted your leg just enough to have access to your clit, the tip of his tongue toying with it, tapping it a couple times before he flexed his appendage and rubbed it against your sensitive spot, first in tiny licks, then in circular motions. 

“Yoongi,” this time you called for real. 

Finally happy with the result, he put down your leg and laid down behind you, placing his palm on your belly and sliding it under the shirt, feeling your naked skin. 

“Kitten?” He called, making sure that you were actually awake. 

“Yes.” You replied, your voice groggy.

“I want inside.” He murmured at your ear. 

“Yes.” You confirmed, mind still a bit hazy with sleep. 

“Yes what?” He asked with an arrogant chuckle. 

“Inside. Please.” You whimpered, your hand stretching behind you and grabbing his sex. 

“Let it be, Kitten. I’ll take care of it.” He slapped your hand away before he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, rubbing his tip against you. “You want it like this?” He said, nibbling your shoulder. “Want me from behind?”

You nodded, lifting your upper leg and hooking it back over his hip, offering him access. “You’re so good at spoons.”

He snickered. “Told you it was good.” He slid the tip in slowly, stretching your hole as the thick, red, spongy head breeched your inner cave. “Remember when we played twenty question here, in my house?” He said, voice raspy as he slid in all the way, stilling only once he bottomed out. 

“I do.” You replied with difficulty, through gritted teeth. “I rubbed you through your pants unti you came.”

“You were fingering yourself while jerking me off.” He murmured. “You were there, so open about your pleasure, so unashamed.” He kissed you below your ear, slowly sliding out. 

You whimpered as he parted from you, lifting your shirt and pushing his hand to your chest, his fingers immediately tweaking your nipple. You turned your head, trying to meet his lips, almost getting a crick in your neck at the effort. He slid in with a deep stroke, bending over you and joining your mouths. 

“In that moment I realised I had to have you.” He groaned against your mouth.

“We hadn’t even kissed and you were thrusting yourself into my hand.” You mewled as he rubbed against the tender tissue inside you. “God, you always hit my sweet spot like this.” You cried out, giving him a few squeezes. 

“So tight.” He cried out, purring against your ear. “And I hadn’t kissed you because I was afraid.” He said, almost as if he weren’t trying to possess every inch of you, as if it wasn’t the most difficult thing he had ever done, to stay perfectly still inside you as you milked him. 

“Afraid.” You said, provokingly. “Ten dates in two months and you were afraid.”

“I knew that the moment I got my tongue in your mouth, I would never slow down.” He murmured, pulling out just barely before ramming into you. “I wanted to hear you moan for me from the first time I heard your voice. So soft. So sexy.” He groaned against your ear. 

His hand moved to the other breast, your gaze focusing downwards, on his skeletal fingers, on the way they spread and constricted around your flesh. “Yoongi, I wanna cum.” You moaned, grinding your hips in circles while he gave tiny thrust that rubbed the head of his cock against your g-spot. “So good.” Your hand reached behind, grabbing his ass cheek and sinking your nails into the flesh, imprinting five red crescents into the skin, scratching it, marking it. 

His other arm slid beneath you, fumbling a little as he substituted the one on your breasts, while the other one, a bit freer, moved up, to slip his fingers into your mouth. “Suck them, Kitten. Moan around them.” He said, pressing his index and middle finger on your tongue. “Make them wet before I rub them on your clit.” He murmured, giving small circles with his hips, feeling you clench around him. 

“Close.” You moaned while he moved his fingers away from your tongue, right on your sensitive bud. 

“Come on. Cum for me.” He groaned, rubbing his palm delicately over your nipple, teasing it barely, only the tip meeting the rough skin of his calluses. “Cum on my cock. Claim it. Come on.” He said, his voice strained, his hips pushing with quick small strokes, focusing on caressing and pressing against your sweet spot. 

“Yoo—” You tried to speak his name but your mouth stayed open, a loud scream ripping from your throat, as it all became too much. “Yoongs, wait, fuck, too good!” You screamed as his fingers kept teasing you insistently, overstimulating you. “Yoongs, fuck, another!” You felt his thrusts become faster, harder as your second high approached. 

“No no no no, please, stop!” You screeched, trying to tug his wrist away, while he kept it against your mound, tucked in tight. 

“You know the word, ____.” He growled as he gave a few final strokes inside you, your whole body shaking with effort, your second high so incredibly strong that it took your voice away, your ears filled with a shrill beeping sound. “So good.” He hummed pushing your back into his chest as he stayed deep inside you, coating your cunt with his seed as he gave a couple tentative thrusts. “So fucking good, Kitten.”

“Yoongi,” you murmured with your voice hoarse. 

“The whole neighbourhood will know about you getting that good dick,” He teased, slipping out of you and holding you tight, rolling you on top of him, and then on the other side of the bed, where he had laid the special blanket just for you. 

“There’s the blankie.” You said, surprised. 

“Yup. I laid the blankie for you.” He said, as he noticed you sitting up and tearing your t-shirt off your torso, throwing it away before you rolled your body on your front. 

You smiled and nuzzled into the soft microfiber, anticipating the special treatment you were about to get. 

“Are you ready, Kitten?” He asked, rubbing your ass, then letting his finger walk up your spine, carding through your hair and grabbing it, massaging your scalp with his hooked fingers. 

“Yes, please.” You said, half still dizzy with your previous orgasms, and half dizzy with the anticipation for the ones that were about to come. 

“Would you like to stay on your front?” He asked, stretching to the bedside table and unplugging the device, placing it away from your curious eyes. 

“Yes? And then turn around?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Maybe you could play with my boobs, choke me a little, then fuck me again?” You said, arching your back and pushing your ass up, trying to lure him in, and at the same time rubbing your sensitive nipples against the soft fabric. 

“Greedy little beast.” He said, patting your head affectionately. 

You pushed your face against it, like an obedient little cat. 

“Stay put, Kitten. I’ll come back in a second.” He said, dashing for the entry room lightning fast, rummaging in his backpack for his phone, finding it and murmuring a “aha!” before he headed back to the bedroom the small toy still placed in his palm, his fingers wrapped tight around it. 

As he entered the bedroom he slowed down, looking at you kneeling with your ass up, your front pressed against the mattress, your arm trapped underneath you as your fingers played peekaboo between your legs, tickling your folds like the long, spindly legs of a spider. 

“You got started without me?” He asked, looking at you with his phone in his hand, his other palm unfolding as he let the vaginal vibrator dangle from his fingers pinching the small cord that simplified extraction. 

“Fuck it, I love you.” You chuckled, pushing your fingers inside, feeling how deeply he had stretched you. 

“You only love me for the sex.” He said, grinning, making the vibrator swing back and forth like a pendulum. 

“That’s not true.” You said, whimpering as you hit a really good spot. You giggled. “I also love you because you’re fucking filthy.” You teased. 

He grinned his signature gummy smile and brought the toy to his face, his lips parting wide and wrapping around it, sucking it in his mouth. 

Your eyes went wide at the gesture, the cord dangling like the tail of a mouse caught in the cat’s clutches. 

He crawled behind you, placing down his phone as he caressed the back of you thighs, grabbing your ass and massaging it with his firm, strong hands. 

“Put it in?” You asked, wiggling your butt in his grasp. 

His right hand parted from your skin, pinching the cord and tugging at it, the toy popping out with a loud noise. “My filthy babe wants her cunt filled?” He asked, licking at his cum as it has oozed out of your slit, coating your inner thighs. 

“Please, Yoongi.” You purred, using your fingers to part your labia. 

He snickered and placed the toy on your entrance, letting it slide in one millimeter at the time. 

You felt every single second of it, the slightly oval shape calling for a barely-there stretch at the tip, but hitting an almost-burning sensation once you reached the widest part, Yoongi devilishly stopping it there, his other hand disappearing from your leg. 

That’s when the vibration started. Slow, steady, almost imperceptible. 

“Yoongs...” You whined, stretching the vowels in a whining tone. 

“Oh, quiet.” He shushed you, putting down the phone to caress your spine, “Be a good girl.” He murmured, scratching your butt before slapping it playfully. “You should keep up with the work out. Look at this ass.” He said, before letting his teeth sink in it. 

You screamed, the toy finally sliding all the way in. 

The vibrations started propagating inside you, together with his teeth tightening on your flesh. He would leave a mark for sure. It was only a matter of how harsh it would be, how long it would last. 

He parted from your butt, pondering for a second whether he thought it a good idea to run his tongue down the junction of the two ass cheeks, teasing the hole in between. 

Not yet. He felt like he should discuss it with you first. 

To silence his doubts he parted from you, admiring the view, letting it eventually suggest him how to proceed. 

He wished he could preserve the moment in his mind forever, even if he couldn’t quite see your face, your pretty nose scrunched and eyes shut as you focused on the feeling between your legs, trying to make it good enough to lead you to pleasure once more. 

With his phone he let the intensity of the vibration grow just a bit. A very, very tiny bit. 

“More.” You mewled, your fingers rubbing your clit. 

There was his suggestion. 

Sliding his hand up against your side, then forward, near your belly, he managed to take control of your wrist, pushing it away and trapping it behind your back. “I’m gonna give you more, but that’s all you’re gonna get, Kitten.” He warned, letting his thumb increase the vibration on the touch screen of his phone. 

“Fuck it. Yes.” You said, as the stimulus became medium-intense. 

And then mild again. “Don’t mess with me please, just please!” You cried out, writhing against nothing, parting your legs wider as he noticed the cord hang between your leg twitching with the tight contractions of your cunt. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t?” He raised the controller all the way up. 

“YOONGI!” You screamed, your body out of control as your legs gave out, pushing your hips against the mattress, the soft fiber of the blanket feeling divine on the delicate tip of your clit. 

And then again the vibration quieted down, your brow furrowing as you felt your eyes get watery, huffing out, panting and grunting as you looked for relief, grinding against the bed desperately.

With a grin he let the vibration flutter on a middle ground, giving you a fleeting feeling of stronger and weaker stimulation. 

“How does your tiny cunt feel, Kitten? Is it tight? Wet? Warm?” He asked, provokingly. 

“It feels very— Yoongi!” You called again as he let you begin talking comfortably and then turned the vibrations all the way up, making you tear up and cry out his name. 

“That’s right.” He said. “It feels me.” He toyed with the cursor on the upper side of the screen, letting it oscillate among the higher values. “It feels only me. Because that’s my cunt.” He said, talking over your small hiccups and whines. “And it’s the only cunt I want to be inside.” He snarled, bringing the controller down low again, your desperate sniffling making him feel compassionate as he let the vibrations go to the maximum and left them there, his torso rising over you as he let a dollop of spit fall from his lips to your puckered hole, his hand leaving your wrist and spreading over your ass, his thumb spreading his spit and pressing enough to cause a stimulation but gently, not to violate your delicate entrance. 

“I’m so close.” You cried out, panting, your mouth so dry as you felt the wet slide of his finger between your ass cheeks, on the sensitive skin of your anus, where even the slightest outer pressure echoed inside tenfold. 

“Cum for me.” He groaned, picking up your hips and laying his front against your back, rutting his crotch against the seam of your ass.

“I’m— Oh—” You stayed silent as the high rushed over you, an incredible amount of wetness pouring out of your slit, getting caught in the blanket, just the way it was supposed to, the double layer protecting the sheets below. “Oh, Yoongs, babe.” You said, your whole body falling down, your legs kicking and twitching as the vibration stayed too high on your still delicate spot. 

“I wanna ride your face, quick I’m gonna c—” You tried to focus on not squirting again, waiting for him to get in place. 

Mercifully, he turned down the vibrations, laying on his back, parting your knees and sliding below your pelvis, his mouth immediately finding your clit while you raised your front on your elbows, so you could make more room for him — but also to feel your breasts hang heavily, and to tease your nipples while the whole scene carried out. 

Yoongi started sucking almost immediately, one of his hands spread on your ass, rubbing it and squeezing it, the other one toying with the controller, giving you that rhythmic increasing and decreasing stimulation while you got used to the feel of him on your clit. 

And once more you were close, your inner muscles shaking violently as he hummed against you, clicking his tongue fast against your delicate bundle of nerves. 

And just like that, your hips started undulating gently above him, giving him the sign to leave the vibrations high up as you moved your weight on your hands, raising your upper body to look a his eyes focused on your bouncing tits, on your parted mouth, on your eyes, rolling shut as you gushed on him, your cum covering his upper chest as you grabbed your left breast in your palm, constricting it in your painfully tight fist, while your hips went wild on him, fucking your clit into his mouth, moving so hard and fast that he lost his grip on it while you rubbed yourself all over his face, meeting his nose, his chin and simply chasing the feel of the hard surface of his lineaments against your overstimulated clitoris. 

He basked in it, after all the time it had taken to have you this wild, this reckless while his mouth worked his magic on you. You had began your experience with him as a shy novice in the art of getting head, but now here you were, spreading your wetness all over his nose and chin and lips and dammit, forehead too, riding him with the prowess of a tiger, glorious in all your ruthless lust. 

He was aroused by your confidence and it took him a while to realise that you had collapsed over him, crying, begging, your legs kicking against the mattress while your hand had left your breast and had tightened its grip into his hair, keeping his face still first while he tried to move it side to side. Now oversensitive, with tears in your eyes, you pushed his head away, down, off of you. 

“Yoongi. Please. Oh, god. Icycle, Yoongi. Icycle.” You sobbed, your voice breaking as he quickly found the cord and pulled the vibrator out of you. 

And there you were, laying barely alive on the bed, his head under your hips, the toy vibrating on the bed, somewhere. 

He allowed himself one brief second before he lifted your hips and slid out from below you. “Kitten,” He said, worried, wiping his face and chest with a corner of the blanket while he switched off the toy, trying to turn you around, on your back, so he could see you properly. 

Obeying to his insistent hands, you turned, showing him your eyes rimmed with tears, your wild hair, your chest, still shaking with sobs and hiccups. 

“Poor Kitten.” He said, caressing your face. “You had to use your safeword, baby? Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek and kissing you. 

You immediately wrapped yourself around him as he laid on top of you, your lower lip pouting. “I want you closer.” You said, grinding your hips against his hard sex. 

“Need to be fucked by my cock?” He asked. “Again?” With a gentle expression, he parted from you enough to pump his length a couple times before you felt him enter you. 

The sensation was different. With the vibration gone, all you felt was the fullness, the thrusting motion that he started straight away now that your cunt was slippery and wide. 

“Hard and fast, love?” He asked, checking on you. 

You nodded. “If possible, then yes.” You said. “Can I please touch myself? I’m not sure I can cum without after that...” You explained, his head nodding as he already dove for your tits, tightening his hand around your neck — more precisely your jugular — while his mouth focused on your left nipple. 

You felt him beginning to hammer into you, at the beginning with slow, thorough slides that had you feeling every single vein, from the tip to the base. And then he simply focused on the angle, your head growing dizzy as you gurgled his name, helpless, desperate, horny out of your mind, completely fucked out. 

“Does it feel good, Kitten?” He asked, releasing your breast and focusing on your neck, biting and leaving a few bruises and hickeys around. 

“Always.” You whispered, meeting his thrusts. 

“Then move in with me.” He said, pouncing on you in the most unexpected moment. 

“What?” You said, trying to open your eyes, to focus on his expression, his crunched nose, his lips parted and his hair sticking to his forehead with wet locks, the vein on his neck popping out every time he thrusted in and bit his lip in an attempt to control himself. 

“Move.” Thrust. “In.” Thrust. He said, grunting. 

He hit a very good angle, your fingers stilling on your clit. “Yoongi—” With a very smooth stroke, he made your eyes roll close, your lips parting in a tiny word. Very tiny. 

“Yes.” You sibilated. 

“Yes?” He asked again. 

He had probably fucked you dumb and brainless. 

“Yes.” You whispered again. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good in our home.” He said, ramming in with renewed enthusiasm, finding a speed and an intensity you didn’t think his delicate body could muster. 

“Our home.” You murmured, pushing your heels into his butt and meeting his thursts with impatient little moans as you felt your last high approach, your eyes rolling shut as he tightened the pressure on your veins and finally collapsed on top of you, your fingers strumming your clit a couple more times before you felt that definite clenching; his mouth releasing a tiny hum as he gave two small strokes, his lungs releasing a long exhale. 

“You’re moving in.” He said, exhausted on top of you. “I love you.”

In the small limbo between death and life, in the postorgasmic bliss of the French ‘small death’, you wore a small smile. “You fucked me dumb enough to make me say yes.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard my D is your kryptonite.” He joked, giggling weakly. 

“This was probably your best performance, mr. Min.” You said, patting his head. “Really fucked me dumb. Cunnilingus so good I cried. It’s a ten across the board, love.”

“Well, now that you’re moving in I’ll have a lot more time to defeat my new record. Upgrade. Improve. Elevate.” He nibbled your nipple. “Outdo myself.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. Good: getting the D anytime. Bad: having multiple near death experiences in a week. I might have to reconsider moving in.” You mumbled, combing his hair. 

“I’ll simply have to keep you dumbfucked twenty-four-seven.” He pondered. “Can do.”

You giggled. “Can do.”

[pinkrelish]

I Tripped and Fell in Love With You

Chapter Summary: (NSFW: gratuitous blowjob scene) The Sakura Bowl comes to a wrap and feelings unravel. Obito can’t hold back his urges and Emi is persistent to break the last few barriers he has left to show him how much she adores him.

Chapter: 7/12

Words: 7k

Read: AO3 / FFnet

Chapter 7: Magic

In the parking lot of a chain gym Obito swept an endless supply of sand out of the van and shut the door, looking for his next victim. The countertop. He drew a line on the surface and inspected the dirt on his finger like a butler in a movie. “We had these doors open for less than a minute. How does this place get so dirty?”

“Vanlifers have a love-hate relationship with the wind. A breeze is nice for cooling down, but goddamn, it blows every shitty spec of dust in here and aggravates my allergies,” she finished her rant with a cough.

“Poor baby.”

Emi hooked her toiletry bag on the cabinet’s handle above the sink and unzipped it to use the mirror. Grumbling about the steam from the shower frizzing her hair, she parted it down the middle and braided it over her shoulders.

Obito abandoned the broom near the door and leaned back on the table. Braiding was something he’d seen girls do countless times in school. And yet, such a small act managed to enrapture him. It was the same technique as any other girl, but it meant more to him. All day he was finding new ways to assign affection to the little things she did. Her nimble fingers wove the hair in plaits. To him, they were magical. Those same hands held him yesterday while he broke down and cried. Those fingers tapped rhythms on the steering wheel as she drove, spooned a heart-pounding amount of sugar into his coffee, traced circles on his biceps, slicked back his hair to kiss his forehead.

“Need the sink?”

“Yeah, I need a shave.” He ran a hand against the harsh bristles on his left cheek.

“Before you do..” Emi walked to his side and stopped. Her shy gaze roamed his face, seeming to debate something in her head as she moved from his eyes to the hand covering his face. He dropped it. Her decision was made.

She stood on her tip-toes and grasped the scarred side of his face and turned him to her. She leaned in. Obito pushed his jaw into her palm, tilting his head, closing his eyes. And promptly opened them.

Emi sighed, rubbing her cheek against his. The hairs tickled, stabbed, scratched her particular itch. She nuzzled harder, absorbing his amusement. His jaw moved down to speak and she moaned at the stroke.

“You are so strange.”

“I know.” She pulled away and swung her hand at the sink, signaling he was free to shave now that she had her fun.

Obito curled his mouth in a sly smile, eyes stuck on her lips. He uncrossed his arms and set up his razor, scoffing at her simple pleasures. “It’s pretty shitty facial hair and stops right in the middle of my face.” He thumbed over the slick, shiny skin on his chin where the scar started.

“It’s part of you, so I like it,” Emi implored. Obito scoffed again at his overly enthusiastic audience. She had sat at the table with her face on her fists, keenly observing his every movement, as if she were going to be quizzed on it later.

At least he had the decency to act aloof when he did the same to her.

Realizing shaving took too long to keep her interested, Emi changed. Taking off his t-shirt from the night before, she finished putting the finishing touches of her outfit so they could go back to the Sakura Bowl when he was done.

“Whoa.”

She kicked the broom behind the driver’s seat. “Hm? Too much? Should I wear something different?”

Obito took no qualms in staring. Leering. The black jeans she wore rode lower on her waist than any other pair she had. They hugged her hips and showed off her stomach. He couldn’t care less about what shoes she wore. He couldn’t see them in his peripheral vision anyway, because he could only look at her top. Fiery red. Delicate fluttery sleeves swooped her shoulders. The fabric tied in the front, right between ample cleavage. Hell, it hardly covered her breasts in the first place. And squishing them together like that..

He shook his head, looking like a fool when the razor fell out of his hand and clattered to the floor.

“No,” he said, gruffly. “Wear it.”

She giggled, clasping her hands in front of her like usual. Except now he was able to consume the end result of such an action. If only his hands could do the same; touch her. If his mouth could do the same; taste her. If she could attend to the need pressing behind his zipper.

“We should get goin’. We’re already late.”

As soon as her back was turned, he reached down to adjust himself. Was there no time to take her up on her offer?

Emi raised a brow as he hesitated to sit in his seat, crouching to peer at the clock on the radio; rocking his head back and forth, counting under his breath.

~~~

Driving past the entry proved to be an ordeal. Emi and Obito gawked at the calamity of bodies clogging up the civilian half of the parking lot. Security guards pointed authoritative fingers at teens hassling the gates.

“I swear there’s more people than yesterday,” Obito said, straining against the armrest as he rubbernecked the crowd.

“Way more!”

Emi parked and rushed to the shipping container enlisting Asuma’s help to set out what product she had left. Of course Kurenai was well prepared. Their booth was set up hours ago. She even restocked her racks the night before, having the foresight to bring extra clothing in case she began to run out.

Kurenai hugged Emi long and hard until she rapped her knuckles on the plastic table as a tap-out. Kurenai filled her in on the crowd, “Some Instagram celebrity bought some old sweatshirts and necklaces yesterday, so that explains all the teeny boppers-” Emi snorted “-So be prepared to be asked a thousand times to sell something for $5 because they could one-hundred-percent get the same tee at the mall for that much.” She rolled her eyes.

Emi's laugh lit up the cloudy morning. Kurenai excused herself to assist Asuma, seeing as he was currently trying to organize women’s dresses by sizes and arguing to himself about what the hell a size zero meant, and if the person disappeared into thin air at that point.

Obito jogged to her with an extra box for loose hangers.

“Oh, didn’t you want to cover up?” She looked him up and down, drawn to the way his light wash jeans stretched across his thighs, but more importantly, he was wearing his wrestling shirt again. Without anything over it.

“Actually.. I wanted to just wear this today.. I think I’m okay with it.”

He stood there. He just fucking stood there in a t-shirt and jeans. No flannel. No hoodie. His arm on display. Holding a cardboard box. She could name very few moments where she was happier. And her heart burst at his next question:

“Wanna take a picture with me later? Kakashi’ll know he won, but, whatever.” He shrugged.

“Won?”

“He betted on us dating.. Against himself! I had no partake in this,” he said, shoving the box under the table and sitting down. Sitting down all calm and stoic, like he wasn’t jumping for joy on the inside like she was on the outside.

“I’ll take a thousand pictures with you!”

“I don’t think we need that many.”

~~~

Their first, and only break, came at lunch. Emi slouched in her seat, legs splayed straight out, and Obito did the same. Neither were able to sit as bodies churned like clockwork, going from rack to rack, scanning the QR code on Emi’s phone to pay, like a rolodex of faces until noon when humanity decided as a conglomerate that it was time to eat.

A pink wallet decorated in black cats waved in Obito’s eye sight. “I’ll give you all the cash in this to go get us food. Fries, bread crumbs, I don’t care. I’m dyin’.”

“You know you don’t have to be so dramatic, right?”

“Really though, that cash in there is yours for helping me. I’ll give you the rest once we get to Konoha.” She winked. “Treat yourself, cutie.”

He snatched the wallet out of her hand and tapped it on her head, standing up. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh! Don’t forget to get me some lemonade from the stand at the end of the food court, it’s my only reason for coming here!”

“Gotcha.” He waved over his shoulder, stalking off.

~~~

Emi texted Obito several times. Each message had less and less intervals between barrages and more and more expletives by the time he showed up, food and drinks in hand and the sweetest apologetic grin on his face. Kurenai dabbed at the corners of her mouth and moved her chair back to Asuma’s side now that Emi wouldn’t have to be alone.

He couldn’t hold it back any longer. His grin broke to an allout cheesy smile. “Sorry it took me a while.” He handed over her half-melted lemonade and a paper bag. “But you were right about the shirt. Everyone was looking at it, not my face or arm!”

“Oh.” She searched his eyes while flicking the condensation off her hands. “Is that good?”

“It made me feel normal.” He moved on, not letting her frown settle in. “I got you a salad and fries.”

“Being normal is overrated,” she mumbled. He settled his fingers over hers and acknowledged her point, keeping his face and tone light-hearted to tell her it was alright. She unrolled the top of the bag. “Wow, you really meant a whole-ass salad.”

“With balsamic.. something dressing, I remembered that one was vegan.”

“You’re so easy to love,” she cooed.

Obito stopped unwrapping his burger. The corner of the red and white checkered paper rustled in the wind. Grease oozed down the side onto his thumb. The scars were deep on this hand. Most of his fingers couldn’t extend fully, thus he kept them clawed when at rest, or balled into a fist if he was in a particularly bad mood. His nails were starting to grow back after being chewed down to the quick. There was a chunk of flesh missing on his forearm from an infection. It matched a few on his side near his stomach. For years, his inner self reflected his outer self. Unpleasant.

“Thank you, Emi.”

~~~

It was the last hour of the event. Patrons made their last stops to the booths who still had goods to sell. Kurenai folded and packed her few leftover garments into plastic tubs and set them aside for Asuma to take later. He was busy chuckling at the new couple.

“I have a box you can stand on,” Asuma offered, a cigarette bouncing between his lips stretched into a Cheshire grin.

“Say that again and I’ll bring you down to my level!”

Asuma cackled and took two steps back until Obito’s head was no longer cut off in the frame. Emi pressed her fingers to her forehead and swirled little circles, ordering her muscles into her trademark smile instead of the furrowed sneer Asuma managed to tease out of her.

“So, you two dating?”

“Just take the picture!”

“Alright, alright.” Asuma took enough pictures to appease them and handed her phone back. His wife’s chortle announced her arrival before he ever saw her. Kurenai leaned her head against his shoulder, eyes softening at Obito and Emi as they hunched over their phones choosing the right photo and deciding what to caption it, bickering over the use of blandly telling the internet they were boyfriend and girlfriend or if they should be cryptic and spell it out with emojis.

“They’re so sweet together,” she said, resigning her role as protective mother. Asuma tossed the butt of his cigarette. Orange embers skittered on the rocks. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and used his other hand to tilt her chin up to give her a quick kiss.

“Someday we’ll be walking down the aisle with our own daughter. You can cry then. Okay?” He kissed her again, longer, letting some of his pain show through the lingering touch.

“Until then, I think I’ll cry now. Not because I think she’ll forget we exist, but because she found someone again.”

~~~

The sun bid it’s farewell long before Emi could. She had locked her shipping container over an hour ago when she first hugged Kurenai goodbye. And still, they all huddled in a group as the chill set in. Obito rubbed his arms, shivering. Asuma had folded and unfolded the papers for the shipping company so many times they felt damp.

In the group’s dance to stay warm, and ceaseless cycle to bring up aimless chatter, they headed for their vehicles. It was snail’s pace, but the men were hopeful the closer they came to leaving the parking lot and entering a heated vehicle. The threat of the gate’s closing time hurried their significant others along.

“I’ll miss you so much!”

“Call us when you get home,” Kurenai replied, hugging her tight. “We’ll swing by tomorrow to make sure the containers are shipped, so don’t worry about it. You two enjoy yourselves.”

Asuma pulled his wife by her elbow towards their car. Obito pulled his girlfriend by her arm towards the van.

“Thank you! You’re always too nice to me!” she yelled the last part with her head poking around a truck as Obito rolled open the side door and ushered her in.

As he turned to close it, a white car drove up. The window rolled down and the lit end of Asuma’s cigarette stabbed the dark. His voice bellowed, “You better take care of her.”

“I will,” he promised. The car drove off. The door rolled shut.

“Well, we gotta be outta here in, like, now-minutes,” Emi said. “I’ll go back to the gym because look.” She pulled the strap of her top down to show Obito a tan line. He knitted his brows and shrugged at her. Then she swept a finger over the line. It disappeared. She showed him the dirt under her nail. “So gross.”

He brought a hand to his face. Tiny bits of sediment and dried salt scratched the surface. “Gross.”

~~~

Emi’s peppermint soap had the odd sensation of cooling his skin as the air hit it. His shoes padded the pavement as he headed towards the van dubiously parked in the back away from other cars.

The sight when he stepped into the kitchen was a welcomed surprise.

Emi was bent over the counter by the sink with her phone typing rapid fire replies to comments on Instagram. Judging by her use of heart emojis, she was thanking people for purchasing from her booth.

None of that is what brought his lower body to attention.

Her penchant for wearing his shirts was mouth-watering even under the most pious circumstances. However, this time it rode up her backside. Her ass and the tiny black thong hiked between her cheeks taunted his blood to other places.

The perfect opportunity. She managed to wear less clothing than that day at the beach and she was here. Two feet away from his hard cock. And she wanted him.

Obito reached down the front of his basketball shorts and tucked the head under his waistband, sidling up to her, quelling his compulsions to a respectable territory. He stood behind and to her side, laying a hand on her hip where his shirt covered her. Fighting his raging need to press himself on her thigh proved difficult; his body was shouting at him for more feedback, but he had to test the waters first.

“Hey,” he said, noting his voice had gone husky, as if his repressed response took over each individual part of him all to send signals to Emi of what he truly wanted.

“Hey, cutie.” She opened another comment thread and tapped out replies laden with emojis. To rid herself of excess energy, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, swaying her hips while she was bent over.

Her ass teased him. Once, twice. Obito held his breath to keep in the moan. Chaste, pure ghosts of touches graced the slinky fabric barrier. Then it happened. She dropped her heel. Her round cheek pressed against his erection. His shaft twitched in delight and the head begged for its turn.

Civility went out the window. His hand wandered. Those naughty fingers of his pushed the shirt up, just enough for it to stay gathered on the curve of her lower back. Fingertips and nails traveled over the soft skin of her plump rear pebbled with goosebumps. It may have been his imagination, but the pressure on his cock increased the more he roamed.

Feeling brave, impulsive, stupid with lust; he cupped her ass in his palm. He squeezed. He swept his thumb over the sensitive flesh hidden under her thong. The heat she gave off was impressive.

The phone thumped on the counter. Emi moaned. A sign from the heavens. His cock rejoiced.

Obito positioned himself behind her, lining up his clothed erection between her cheeks. He clasped one in each hand and brought them together. At first, that was all he did, squeeze them around his cock, warming her up to the idea that something so simple could get him off while still wearing their clothes.

Emi sighed his name more than said it. She arched her back. Her muscles clenched around him. Obito freed his tip from the constricting fabric and used his thumb to wedge it in the middle of his man-made palace. He smacked her ass, shoved the cheeks together again, and rutted into her. His length tugged her panties as he started his slow grind up. The subsequent tightening of them around her clit sent her gasping in pleasure, asking for more. He pulled his hips back, bent his knees, watching his tip disappear and reappear as he quickened his pace. Drops of his anticipation welled and slicked her skin. He changed to short thrusts, letting only the lipped edge of his head take the brunt of the friction he craved as he whined her name.

“Someone’s in the mood,” she teased him. “Wanna fuck?”

Obito regained some semblance of composure. Calming his animalistic movements, he leaned over her, smoothing his front to her back. Sloppy kisses were gifted upon her neck and his breath cooled them. “Yes, from behind,” he rasped.

“Do you have a condom? I don’t.”

He dropped his forehead to her shoulder. His lungs deflated in a breathy laugh. Emi had to grip the counter as he shook her, laughing harder.

“Huh?”

He muttered a curse and explained, “Kakashi tried to give me one when you came to pick me up. I told him it wasn't like that.” He shrugged. “Oops.”

She snorted. “Oops, indeed. We can do other stuff, then.”

Obito hummed a reply and nudged her jaw with his nose until she exposed her neck for him to graze. He ran his teeth over her pulse, put his lips to it and sucked as his hips rocked into her.

His clothes, his hickey, his cum on her. She would be marked.

He dragged his hips back, releasing one of his hands to seize the thin material of her thong. He moved it aside, brushing her bundle of nerves in the process. She moaned for him, tilting her hips, presenting herself fully. This was one of his favorite angles in porn. All lower back, hips, and ass.

He tugged his shorts lower, lined himself up against her wet entrance and clapped her cheeks to surround his cock. Thrusting, back and forth, pumping in and out of his makeshift replacement for sex. His tip emerged at the top of the tunnel glistening with a mix of her and him.

Suddenly, she rose up from the counter. His cock became sandwiched between her ass and his stomach. He was forced to wrap his arms around her front to keep her steady.

“Wouldn’t you rather something else?” Her tone held a hint of confusion.

He put his nose to her hair and shook his head a fraction of an inch. “Another minute here and I’ll be good, babe.” He clamped his hands on her waist and grinded on her.

Emi turned her head to look up at his flushed face and reached behind her. He groaned at her touch. Each finger gripped his cock, expertly spreading his precum and stroked. Slow. So slow. His edge was wrapped around her fingers.

“I want to taste you,” she purred. He hesitated to respond. Her frown deepened. She let go and spun before he could stop her, but he was too quick, he pulled his shorts up and his shirt down. The outline pressing between them begged to have her mouth soothe it as much as she pleaded to have it fill her.

“Is there any way I could keep my clothes on while you do that?” He was fully content in humping her to orgasm.

Exasperated, she dropped her forehead to his sternum. “I figured that’s what it was.”

“I want more.. I just-” He groaned. He scrubbed his hands over his face, aggravated at himself. 

Heart pounding, breath shortening, he focused on a tiny chip in the wood on the ceiling. If this was going to work, he had to be vulnerable again. When did this uncomfortable feeling stop? At some point he had to run out of things to share, to put on display for her to judge.

He thought he put all of himself into the palms of her hands, and yet, he kept finding new things to push at his walls.

He had to trust her. Trust her to not reject him.

Fright at the thought of her doing that struck him like a whip, sending images and cut off sentences to his head. A visual played out for him like a movie of her rejection. Taking one look at him and making up an excuse. Saying this was a mistake and they just met, they should take things slow. It ended with her never talking to him once he was dropped off at Kakashi’s apartment.

Trust her with that?

“Okay,” he said. “I'll.. try.” He took her hand and guided her to the bed. Placing a pillow against the wall, he laid down and allayed her guarded expression as he beckoned her to his lap, “I’ve never shown anyone before, so, please be patient with me.” The last time someone merely touched his stomach, he was rejected immediately. How long would Emi last?

Emi straddled him. He had gone soft.

Obito ran his hands up her supple legs to her own hands waiting at her side for his next move. “You’ve seen my back, but my front is a different story. I’m afraid of what you’ll think when you see it..”

“Obi,” she breathed. She collapsed on him, swooping her arms under his shoulders to hold him, her lips doling out kisses down his jawline until she reached his ear. “When I tell you you’re handsome, it has never once come with the caveat that I’m only speaking about half of you. You are attractive.” Pulling away, he opened his eyes and looked into her face full of earnest love. “I want us to be together, you just have to trust me to take care of you.”

Obito’s heart hammered. She spoke the words for him.

Emi returned to her sitting position. “I’ll go first,” she said, canines flashing. She crossed her arms and grabbed the bottom of her shirt. He left his hands on her knees, resting his head back to watch the show.

Everything she did was agonizingly slow. The view of her underwear was first, placed where it should be. It roused him deep in his core that she had the wherewithal to do that. The gentle curves of her stomach preceded the shadows of her flared out ribs. Up the shirt went to cover her face. The fabric stretched thin, allowing her to peer at him. Her nipples peeked out, commanding his interest, and then the shirt was tossed on the floor. Her hair fanned across her shoulders. Her breasts bounced, enticing his cock to attention.

She plucked his hand from her thigh and guided it up her body, encouraging him to explore it at his will. His hand continued the flow without her help, coming to a stop at her breast, cupping it in his palm and eyeing her hard nipple. He paused.

“How do I..?”

She maneuvered his fingers for him, taking his index and thumb and placing them on either side, pressing them into a light pinch.

“Just like that,” she moaned.

He followed her orders and replicated the motion. More. She tilted her face to the ceiling and let out whimpers for more. She rolled her hips. Another moan when she reached the apex of the grind and angled down to rub her clothed clit on his tip. On a mission to keep her in this state of frenzied, sensuous thirst, he took both of her breasts in his hands and drove her mad. She stroked him through his shorts while touching herself over her thong, her fingers working their magic on both of them.

“Hold on, Em.” He sat up, panting in her ear. Hands of steel gripped her hips to keep her compliant. “You're going to fast for me.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, tone not sorry one bit. She dove her fingers in his hair as he rewarded her in harsh kisses down her neck to her collar bone. Mouth agape once more, she arched her tits to his mouth where he could appreciate them in all their glory.

Obito cupped them together, envisioning his cock fucking them. He could hold them, play with her nipples, and watch her face twist in pleasure all while his cum dripped to the hollow of her neck.

He tested their sensitivity with a flick of his tongue.

“Yes,” she coached, “like that.” The insistence of her words and the hands on the back of his head directed him. It shushed the equally loud self-doubt voice lurking about pointing out his inexperience.

He parted his lips and let his tongue unravel the puzzle that was her arousal. She wasn’t going ga-ga for him like he’d seen women do in videos, but he supposed those women weren’t an accurate portrayal of what sex was really like, and though Emi was clearly enjoying what he was doing, she wasn’t going to orgasm over nipple play.

The more he ran his tongue in circles, the more she moaned. And when he switched to the other nipple and mimicked the motions his tongue was making on the one left wet with his spit, she pressed her need to his lap harder. She rocked faster. Her chest swelled with deep inhales. It was a small thing to notice, the way her breath left her in airy sighs with an undernote of a whine, but he cherished it, for it was the first time he’d caused such a noise from a woman.

A dark spot on his shorts grew bigger at each slow grind of hips, showing how much he wanted her. Her nails dug into his scalp. His cock had never been this hard before.

Bestowing a final kiss on her breast, Obito reached up, grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head and to the floor in one fluid motion. Emi leaned away, but was quickly stopped by his arms snatching her, closing the distance. Their naked upper bodies touched. Skin on skin. He hid his face in the crook of her neck, immersing himself in her. Just her. The most important person to cross his life. His chance. His future. His skin droned a low hum from being in her vicinity.

Patiently, she ruffled his hair. Ran her fingernails across his scalp. He groaned.

It was time.

He locked his arm behind her and fell to the mattress. His head sank to the pillow as her hands came up to hold his face between her palms and stroke her thumbs along his cheeks. A gesture he knew well; it’s calming technique worked on both of them.

Her pliant body relaxed on him. His nerves teemed with unspent energy at the new sensations. They grabbed for any information his eyes couldn’t see; her breasts pressed to his chest, their stomachs filling out the other as they exchanged breaths, her knees digging in beside his thighs.

Emi looked at him to gauge the next step, but he only stared. The arms around her waist stayed cinched in place. It was like laying on bricks, every muscle of his had gone tense.

“Can I look?”

Obito fought several emotions: reluctance at the idea, pleading for her not to, and finally, surrendering. He gave her a curt nod, eyes trained on her face. It was so open, so honest. If she didn’t like what she saw, he would know.

It was her turn to tower over him. She sat upright. His hands fell to the bed, his eyebrows drew down, and his mouth couldn’t decide if it should frown or sneer. It was happening again.

Emi tilted her head the lower her gaze went.

“I promise it’s not what it looks like,” he was quick to say, a little harsher than he meant to, “the scars don’t affect.. down there. They go around the important stuff.” She eyed the trail of scars headed for his manhood and shrugged.

“Even if it did, we’d find ways to work around it. Because I love you.”

He hid his brimming tears in her hair as she placed herself in his arms, lost in her perfection. Her kisses brought him to the present, starting at the base of scars on his throat and working down.

Obito held his breath. Emi’s lips brushed over the smooth skin at the top of his chest. Shiny pink mottled with alabaster white laying flush with the planes of his pecs. However, it worsened the closer it got to his arm. Her hands learned him, as did her mouth. And that’s when she discovered he was missing his right nipple. The flesh was raised in patterns like oil on water. She kissed them. He exhaled. She moved on.

After kissing the textured skin covering his ribs, she went lower. His stomach was divided in half from navel to waistband, though the scarring was like his upper chest and leg. Her tits rested on his shorts. She watched him through her lashes as he pretended to be subtle about clenching his butt to force his cock to nestle in them.

Lower, lower, her kisses went over the trail. Then she reached her prize. She pinned his thighs down and kissed his clothed shaft. Just a preview of what was to come.

“I’ll go first again,” she said, pushing herself off the bed. The black panties joined the clothing on the floor.

Obito blinked. So elegant the way her thumbs hooked the sides and slid them over her voluptuous thighs. She smirked at his astonishment and knelt between his legs and grasped his waistband. He dug his heels in and lifted his hips. Once they were flung to the floor, he straightened the pillow against the wall and sat up slightly to watch her.

No clothes to hinder them. No walls barred them from this experience. They trusted the other to concede knowing they would be safe.

“Oh, God,” Obito moaned the second she placed her fingers on him after teasing him all day. The pent up frustration engorged the veins she lovingly traced. It swelled the head she smiled at, and her grin turned demure as she lowered herself.

“Wow,” she whispered as her mouth tested him. “You felt big, but not this big.” His cock laid propped in her palms like a trophy and she planted little kisses along his shaft. He heard her swallow in the quiet of the van. Her mouth opened and the flat of her tongue pressed the underside of his tip. Full eye contact.

He was sure his gaze was half-lidded, drunken almost.

She curled her fingers around the base and angled him up to her waiting lips, parted to receive him. To worship him with her mouth. The comforter scrunched in his grip and his legs flexed as her lips stretched over his girth. Her tongue teased his frenulum, then swirled. She lapped up the smear of precum and swallowed it. Obito let out a trembling breath followed by a moan as she went lower, letting her spit dribble down his cock to glide over him with ease. Not one to leave idle hands, she used the one not taming him to cup his balls.

“Babe,” he murmured as she broke the seal her lips created over his sensitive red head. Those bewitching lips crept into a smirk. The hand holding his base moved up to pump him using short, light strokes where each finger slipped over the edge, the same as he always did when alone. Her smirk disappeared as her face ducked below his view. The skin of his balls tightened in her hand on instinct. In response, she massaged them with the utmost gentlest touch using her thumb and tongue, kissing each side delicately.

Emi increased her pace on his cock, but not her grip. She needed him to last a little longer while she had her fun. The blanket was strangled in Obito’s hands, desperate to keep his high away. At the first sign of his sac going taut with his impending release, she moved her strokes to his shaft. His body responded immediately: his thighs stopped squeezing her and his head thunked the wood wall. Now that he could focus on anything else, he observed what this woman was doing to him in an oversexed stupor.

And what a beautiful sight it was. His cock obscured one of her eyes; the one visible held the most enticing devious gleam. Emi dropped her jaw and rolled out her tongue. His eyebrows crowded his forehead. She plopped one half of him in, vibrating a moan deep inside him at the fullness in her mouth. Obito forced his knees out to give her room; flabbergasted she managed to be so couth while doing something so lewd.

Her tongue cradled him while she sucked, praising his balls like they were Saints. Her throaty moans stoked the fire in his core. He wasn’t inebriated by her actions any longer; his eyes were bright, his legs jerked, his muscles burned, his cock would indenture itself to her as long as he could finally cum.

“I’m getting close,” he warned. She teased him once more, taking her time to remove him from her mouth and rub her thumb over his slick scrotum. And again when she held his tip to her lips and licked the underside. She swallowed his dripping excitement.

“Emi, please,” he croaked out. She giggled, kissed his cock and delved in.

Emi took as much of his length as possible, working her wet mouth down to her index finger gripping his base and gave him long strokes using both. His jaw slackened, moaning for her to go faster. Faster, hollowing her cheeks, using the flat of her tongue to press the underside, she obeyed all his commands.

The moans she released on his cock edged him closer, closer.

His hands left to bed to settle on his thighs, digging his thumbs into the muscle, holding himself back as long as possible. It didn’t help. He needed it. He wanted it. “Can I touch you?”

She came up for air and answered, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his throbbing head, “Yes.”

He wound his fingers through her hair. Knotting it, tugging it. He refrained from putting any pressure until her muffled cries solicited more, ramping up the intensity of her sucking his cock, willing to do anything for him.

The back of her throat embraced his tip as he pushed her down. Her cheeks massaged his shaft. Her tongue lapped his length. Her lips gripped him. He held her head while his hips jerked up and down, fucking her mouth.

The euphoria built in his core. The craze for his orgasm piqued.

He let go of her; she gave him everything she had. She brought her focus to his tip, gliding her lips over the edge along with her first finger lubed by her own drool after he had his way with her. Her tongue polished the split underside awaiting the pearls she sought.

“I’m gonna,” he said between breaths. “Ah-!”

The first spurt burned the back of her raw throat. The emptiness left behind when she fixated on his head was soon filled with his cum. She slowed her strokes, making sure every bit of him rolled down her tongue. His legs flexed, his hips bucked, and his muscles convulsed. Nerves flared at any touch. Involuntary whines left his mouth. Love flowed in waves, then it became too much. He pursued the climax as long as possible, driving his cock further into her mouth, then the threat of overstimulation cleared his mind.

“You swallowed?” Obito asked, dumbstruck. He used his scarred hand to push her hair to one side of her face and trace her cheek. Once she gave his overly sensitive tip one last kiss-earning a hiss from him-he swiped his thumb over her wet bottom lip. “That was really fucking hot.” She beamed at his approval.

Obito scooted down the bed to lay flat while she crawled on top of him and into his awaiting arms. “So fucking gorgeous,” he complimented her, kissing her shoulder, “So gorgeous and so perfect.”

His hands lazily drifted down her thighs. His body had gone boneless after his release. After being edged several times by her, that was by far the strongest orgasm he’d ever had.

Emi placed his head in her hands and left kisses amongst his bedhead. Emotionally and physically she needed more. Just a little bit more. There was one act of attraction neither of them attempted yet. “Can I kiss you, or will that gross you out?”

His hands were tangled in her nest of hair at once, and he begged, “Please.”

Longing.

He turned her face. Their noses bumped. His panting hadn’t stopped. Their mouths weren’t parted in equal distance.

Desire.

Her swollen lips tingled. He took her bottom lip between his, wishing he used her chapstick.

Bliss.

It was imperfectly perfect. Obito’s technique was sloppy. Emi was too aggressive. Saliva meshed. Tongues exchanged notes. Teeth sat on the warm-up bench.

Naked body on naked body.

Minutes went by of caressing: hands, lips, tongue. They held the other in high regard, alert to what the other wanted. Then the lure of familiarity engulfed them. Emi’s knees brushed his hips and she put her all into the kiss. Obito’s grip behind her shoulders was crushing, but it didn’t matter. Learning the taste, smell, and feel of the other was too important.

As the clock ticked over to a new day, their fevered exploration calmed down to tender kisses by lips gone tight with smiles.

Obito focused on the sequence of events leading up to this moment and asked, “Don’t you want something? You can tell me what do to.. How to.. please you?” he blushed and stammered the last bit.

“It’s okay, I can wait until we have condoms.” Kisses trailed down his cheek as she rolled off of him to his side. “To be honest, I’m pretty tired and don’t think I can teach you and focus on my own orgasm at the same time. I’m just glad you let me participate instead of using me as a fuck toy.” Her boisterous laugh did little to curb the influx of nerves prickling his face.

“Sorry..” 

Rude as she was to point at his red cheeks, she quieted her snickering. “I liked it,” she whispered, “but I’m much happier after seeing your body.”

Obito helped her under the covers and kissed her temple, heading for the bathroom. Emi grasped his fingers before he walked too far away. What a magnificent body she had in front of her. He blotted out the lights above him, casting him in shadows, leaving the one from the kitchen sink to bounce off his scars. After being afraid to show himself for so long, he had nothing to fear. She loved every dip, every crevice. It was him. The sheen of sweat covering his twitching muscles as he placed a foot on the bed. His skin melding with the marbled waterfall tissue of his burns over his leg to his ass. Though slim, his meaty thigh curved to his butt like a statue in a museum. Obito may deny such a comparison, but she was smitten with this man.

The longer she stared, the deeper his brows hooded his eyes.

”Tonight was about you. And I loved giving that to you,” she said, kissing his knuckles. She let go of his warm hand, coy smile back in place.

“Fine, but next time it’ll be about you.” He nodded and headed to the bathroom, closing the curtain behind him.

“Can’t wait!”

Obito washed his hands, turned off the lights, and climbed into bed after her, molding his body to her outline. This is where he belonged. Where he was wanted. Where he wanted to be.

At her side. In this life and the next.

[caxsthetic]

Main Character

Tendou Satori x F!Reader

Sometimes we may feel like we didn't belong anywhere. But someday, there will be someone who would show you the right place.

It was cold today, the early spring always made you crave for some extra warm. And for the past few months, you were grateful to have him here by your side. He may be lean and not really muscular, but the fact that he's taller than you, feels like he engulfed you every time he became the big spoon.

"You sure Ushi didn't mind us cuddling here again?" The two of you were longing for each other's warmth since the break after the school year began, "He once caught us making out and trust me, I could never forget the look that he gave to us."

You chuckled when you remember that particular time. Teenagers being teenagers, making out in a place that everyone could come in any time. And for the two of you, it was none other than the blunt ace, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

"I already told him that I am going to borrow the dorm," His long finger grazed on your cheek, gently caressing it as you leaned to the touch, "Well, if he forgot about that then he just have to face us being lovey dovey~" You turned your body so you were now facing him. There’s a glint of adoration shone from your eyes, "Why you look at me like that?"

You didn't answer as your eyes looked at how smooth his hair was when he didn't use hair gel. Your fingers playing with his red strands of hair, and he purred like a cat every time your finger grazed his scalp. To the world, he was a terrifying man, someone that you didn't want to be closed with.

But to you, he was just a man who's afraid to be close with someone else. The world was the terrifying one, not him. If only they just waited patiently while approaching him, they would unravel a heavenly creature behind his dangerous facade.

You were grateful not to hear what the others thought about your lovers. You were grateful to never judge someone with how they looked outside. You were grateful to approach him that day when he tripped while everyone was too afraid to help him. Because if you're not, you would never lay here with him, comforting each other with just being present.

Tendou Satori always looked at you like you were some kind of angel. He's not a fan favourite, no matter how good he was in volleyball. It was always Ushijima this, Ushijima that, Semi this, Semi that, no one ever want to even talk to him if it's not necessary. So when you crouched down in front of him at the spring of his second year, it was the first time he felt like a normal human being.

He has noticed you since a long time ago, way before you helped him that day. You were one of the high school sweetheart; kind, patience, overall didn't even have a bad trait. He always wondered why someone like you wanted to be with him, a monster, or anything that people always called him.

"What's in your mind, Satori?" Your voice woke him up from the wild thought, "You looked... lost for a second there." Worried coated your eyes as you gazed at him. Your fingers never stopped fondling on his red hair, "Mind telling me?"

But he only shook his head, decided to just put his head on the crook of your neck. You were like a safe haven for him, the place where he could just be himself without people looking at him and judging him. Even though you were ticklish over there, you let him be. After all, you knew what always crept in the back of his mind.

So you let him be, until he’s ready to open up to you completely.

»»————-　♔　————-««

The red-haired man was pouting the whole day, wondering why you were out of his grasp these past few days. He decided to check your classroom, maybe you were busy with homeworks already. Every time he walked in the hallway, everyone always made way for him.

It was convenient, since he didn't have to collide with the others. But at the same time, he felt like he never belonged there. Like no one wanted him to breath the same air as him as they stole some glances at him, looking at him like he was some kind of satanic creature.

And it made him sick.

So he strides towards your classroom faster, wanting to see you so his mind wouldn't go wilder than now. He peeked inside your classroom, but he didn't find the figure that he wanted to see so much.

"You were looking for someone?" He blinked when he heard someone's voice talking to him, "I am sorry, are you looking for someone?" The student in front of him becomes a little bit worried when he doesn't answer their question. After all, maybe it was the first time someone talked to him without stuttering.

"O-Oh, yes!" He was now back to himself, smiling giddily as he looked at the student, "Do you happen saw (Y/n)-chan?" He really wished that they knew your whereabouts. He's been craving for your touch since Monday, but now it's Thursday and he didn't feel your fingers on his hair, not even once.

"Oh, (L/n)-san?" His eyes lit up with the mention of your name. He nodded enthusiastically when they looked like they knew the answer to his question, "I saw her today! Ushijima-san came here earlier and picked her up." There was confusion on his face,

Wakatoshi? Why would he even pick you up at lunch time?

"They were just really cute isn't it?" The question that was emitted from their lips hit the sore spot inside his heart, "Ushijima-san has been quite a gentleman, picking her up every lunchtime." He felt so small all of the sudden, he just wanted to run away from that spot, "I wonder, are they dating? You are his teammates, right?"

The student kept rambling about how cute you looked with the ace, and it felt too much for him. So before they could say anything else, he ran. He didn't know where his legs brought him. Somehow when he ran, there were a lot of voices attacking him with the information.

He was too focused to block everyone's whispers before, knowing for sure that people talked about him. Shamefully gossiping and mentioning his name while he walked in front of them. But now, he heard everything.

"Ushijima-san and (L/n)-san looks so good together!"

"They were so perfect, I envy them!"

"But doesn't (L/n)-san in a relationship already?"

"Oh, with that middle blocker, huh?"

"Pfft, as if someone will choose that freak over Ushiwaka."

It was too much for him to handle. He needed you, he wanted to see you or he was going to be insane. He needed you to reassure him that you will stay with him, like you always did every time he fell again to the deep of hell called insecurity.

He kept running, searching for your figure in this gigantic school. His eyes scan the crowd, looking for you, the only one who dares enough to approach him. The only one who dares enough to love a monster like him.

After running around like a mad man, he finally found you. It was easy once you were in his eyesight. You are the only one he saw no matter how many people were there. Maybe it was how the wind blew your hair, or maybe it's just the angelic smile that you gave toward someone beside you.

That's when he realised you were not alone. The unfamiliar scene unfurled in front of him like a movie. Beautiful woman standing with the perfect man at her side, making the heroine smile like she was the only woman in the world. He never suited that, he could never suit that scenario.

Maybe it was the best thing to let the story roll. But he really wished that it was him as the main character instead of the ace.

»»————-　♔　————-««

"Something happened?" Ohira gulped down the mineral water while eyeing the middle blocker, "You seem on edge since Thursday." But the red-haired didn't answer his friend's question, and it made the wing spiker raise one of his eyebrows.

Tendou was usually loud since he was the clown of the team. Practice always consists of him joking around and annoying them. So it was strange that practice suddenly became so quiet, like there's no warmth in it anymore.

Practice has been done for an hour now. But here they are right now, helping the middle blocker to let out his frustration. Even if it's only Semi, Ohira, Yamagata, and him, it was enough to practice his block. They didn't know what caused the change of behaviour, but as long as they could help, they would be there for him.

"I will go back to the dorm now." The voice was so emotionless like he was some kind of robot as he still kept his mouth shut, he didn't want to answer his friend's question.

"Come on, you said you need to let out your frustration, right?" Semi shared a mysterious look toward the wing spiker and the libero. But it didn't go unnoticed by the red-haired man, "Reon needs to practice his spike more too."

Tendou squinted his eyes a little, looking at how nervous Reon was.

"What is it that you hide from me?" All of them looked frantic once the question was out of his lips, "You thought I wouldn't notice how you want me to prolong the extra practice?"

The two look fidgety, and Semi just lets out a long sigh.

"We're so stupid to ever think we could hide it from you, huh?" It was scary, he didn't know what they had been hiding from him. The three of them looked so guilty, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was hiding on their mind.

Then something snapped at him when he realised one particular person was missing from the extra practice today,

"Where is Wakatoshi?" Reon widened his eyes at the question, and that was enough to make the middle blocker bolted from the gymnasium.

"Why did we stay here and didn't stop him?" Yamagata questioned their action as they just stood there with frustration in their eyes. Semi grabbed his bag and groaned,

"Come on, let's just hope they were done doing it."

Tendou ran towards the dorm building, trying to erase the worst scenario that might happen right now. He didn't even change his clothes, he just ran to search for his teammates. His perfect teammates.

He was panting now when he stood in front of his dorm that he shared with the said man. He let out a long sigh and tried to calm himself down before grabbing for his key. His hand was ready to insert the metal timber when he heard the familiar voice from his room.

It's like life has been drained from his body when he heard your voice inside the dorm. He's not there with you, so why would you be there. It's not possible, right? You said you only loved him, you said the only one in your heart was him. So why now were you all alone in the dorm room with none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi?

"Ushi, we need to be fast!" He could hear you whine from outside, "Satori will be here any minute...!"

"It's alright," He clenched his hand when he heard his friend's voice, "He may have noticed it, you know."

Silence deafening his ears. He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. There's only one possible scenario that happened inside his room. The room where you usually cuddle with him, the room where you always calmed him down after he had a bad day.

He knew what might happen if he opened up the door. The sight will craze his mind, haunting him since the first person that ever loved him, falling for someone that was better than him. But he did it, he inserted the key and twisted it. Once he opened up the door, he knew he wouldn't forget the sight that was unraveling in front of him.

"S-Satori!" You widen your eyes when your gaze falls to your boyfriend's figure. He wasn't supposed to be here right now, he was supposed to practise with the others. Not here, not when you were not ready yet.

There you were, sitting at the carpeted floor with a guide book in your hand. The floor was full with plastic pieces that he recognized as model kits. Ushijima was holding two pieces of it with confusion plastered on his face.

You were frantic, didn't know what to do since the plan was horribly gone wrong. So you just snatch the cover of the model kits and put it on the box. There's a wide grin on your face as you stood up and approached him,

"You were not supposed to be here now, but," You cleared your throat as you showed the box to the middle blocker, "Happy birthday, Satori!"

He was standing there and his body was tense. It’s not what he thought, you were not leaving him for somebody else. You blinked when you saw the unreadable expression from his face. But then his eyes went glossy, following with tears streaming down his face.

"S-Satori," You put down the model kits that you bought from the internet the other day and focused on your boyfriend, "Baby, what is it? I am sorry for neglecting you these past few days! Oh my god, please don't cry!" You were now a crying mess too. Every time someone that you care about cry in front of you, you couldn't help but do the same.

You wrapped your arms around his head, pulling him to your embrace as the two of you fell down to the ground. His arms wrapped around your waist immediately. You never saw him like this, crying uncontrollably like a child that just dropped his ice cream.

"Not fair!" He screamed between the sob, "I thought you left me or something," It broke your heart to see him like this, "I thought you were tired of me and decided to love someone else, (Y/n)." You bit your lips, it was all your fault to make him feel like this.

You kissed the crown of his head, soothing him as you try to calm him down,

"I am so sorry," You whispered out, "I love you, Satori. I love you so much, I promise I wouldn't leave you." He didn't let go of you and just positioned himself comfortably in your embrace. You wiped the remaining tears from his cheek with your thumb. He started to lean on your touch and just snuggled you there.

"I hate chu~!" He pouted, making you giggle as he looked so cute every time he acted like this, "Why couldn't you just give me a wonderful birthday surprise without giving me a heart attack beforehand?" He kept whining and pouting like a child.

"Well, I am sorry." You cupped his face and pampered him with kisses, he giggled at this and pampered you back. He pushed so your back was now lay on the carpeted floor, "Satori..." Your voice was sweet, and he had to throw his gaze away for a second to control himself.

"Let's get you to bed," He hoisted your body up and tucked you gently to the bed. He positioned himself beside you, snuggling below the warm blanket. Now, this is where he belongs to, with you by his side.

He didn't need anybody else in this world, as long as you were there loving him completely. He didn't need a perfect scenario, he just needed you to be the heroine in his own movie, where he was the one who got the most beautiful girl.

"What's in your mind, Satori?" He looked at you with adoration twinkling in his eyes, "You looked... that you were thinking about something." You always asked him that every time he got lost in his own mind. Maybe it's time, maybe it's time for him to pour everything in his mind to you, trusting you completely.

"You know, sometimes I will think that I am not good enough for you," You wanted to retort, but he shushed you with a peck on your lips, "But, I trust you." Your eyes were now glossed with a little happy tears that were trying to spill already, "I trust every word you said that you will never leave me." You nodded, reassuring him along the way that you meant everything that you have ever said to him.

"I love you, Satori." He grinned when he heard the three words that always brightened up his day, "I love everything about you."

"Hehe~ I know!" He pecked your lips again and nuzzled at the crook of your neck, "I love you too, (Y/n)." His voice was calmed since he was in the right place. He closed his eyes, listening to your heartbeat, "Thank you, for even loving the monster inside me."

He was always the main character in this scenario, and you will always be the heroine who falls in love with the said character. This is where the two of you belong after all, submerging in each other's company. Loved, and appreciated.

OMAKE:

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶    *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tagged Lovelies:

@benewol​ @letmeshouyou​ @nitricflame​ @iwaixiumi​ @vventure​ @heccingdead​ @muffins-puffins​ @miyulovestowrite​ @nanashinanashi​ @muffngw​ @vlovers-world​ @proplayer-kenma​ @kashika​ @cuddlyasahi​ @blacckdiamondposts​ @allywritesimagines​ 

[professormembranexreader]

Membrane x Fem! Reader x Clembrane (OOO BABY A TRIPLE)

TW: Toxic Relationships, Mental Illness, Roleplay, Degradation, BDSM

(Y/N)'s POV

It was weird, what we had. It wasn't the norm, but things couldn't be too normal when there is a failed clone of a man along with said man living in the same household.

The norm was very different in the Membrane home. Instead of a nuclear family system,  Membrane allowed Clem to be a second father to his children. Meaning I was unofficially married to both of them. When one was busy, the other was there to spend time with me. Not to mention it meant the kids had more chances to play with their dads.

In reality, the only con was the cooking situation. Both of them were cooking disasters. One made toast with a blowtorch and the other made semi-edible pudding appear out of nowhere. Needless to say, neither were allowed in the kitchen. Due to that, I did all the cooking. Which lead to a good thing about the situation. Every meal, we would eat as a family. And it was comforting to know that no matter what I made, it would be better than anyone else could do.

But I still had my doubts. I try to be a good wife for my husbands. I spend time with the kids with them, I cook for them, I occasionally clean... but it never feels good enough. No matter how much I kid myself, Clem isn't human, and Membrane cares about science more than he cares about me.

It wasn't the norm, that's for sure. But it was our norm. And the closest we could get to a real family. After all this talk, I should probably say where they are. Membrane was going to be coming home any minute now and Clem was currently outside with the kids. I didn't feel like joining them, so I was preparing dinner.

Lately, Membrane has been bringing home his work attitude—not the friendly goofball I fell in love with. He was distant, and more reserved. Outgoing, still, but he was different. He didn't treat me like a wife—more like that of a coworker he was having an affair with.

Distantly, the door slammed. He was home.

"How was work tod-" he cut me off before I could finish.

"Office. Now." His smooth baritone voice whispered. I set down the potato I was peeling and followed him to his office. He only ever ordered me around like that for sex.

My eyelids drooped. I wasn't feeling it right now, but maybe I would once we got into it. It may happen. Even if I had the strength to say no, he wouldn't take it as an answer. I slowly trudged my way to his office.

He was waiting for me. He cleared off his desk and shoved me on it. It hurt.

"You want that promotion?" He asked. So this was our roleplay this time. It took everything in me to shake my head yes. He yanked me off the desk and forced me onto my knees.

"Then you better get to work." I unbuttoned his pants, unzipping them as well. His cock's outline bulged through his underwear and top. It was stuck standing vertically via the waistband. I pulled his boxers down and it landed right next to my mouth.

I took a deep breath and sighed outwardly before running my tongue across his length. After a few licks, he grew impatient and forced me to suck on his dick.

He groaned as I began to hum against him. "Estás como una puta, ¿sabes?" He said. It hurt, but I didn't let it faze me. I just continued to suck and hollow out my cheeks. "Apuesto que te encanta el sabor de mi semen." He moaned out.

Each dirty comment both dampened my mood and my panties. While I hated it, it never failed to get me wet. I began to whine on his dick. The vibration sent him over the edge and caused him to cum in my mouth without warning. The saltiness caught me off guard; I almost gagged.

He wiped some semen off of my lips and kissed me, tasting himself. In this motion he lifted me and carried me up by my thighs and started to go to the bedroom. Despite my safety being secure, I held onto him for my life. We broke the kiss and panted, gasping for air. He continued to carry me to the bedroom as he laid kisses upon my neck.

He pushed the door open and threw me onto the bed. I went ahead and took off my clothes as he did the same. Once we were down to our underwear, he got on top of me and pinned my hands above my head.

He dragged his tongue across my neck, making me shudder in anticipation.  "Me dejas regresar el favor, mi amor." He whispered into my neck. "Quiero."

"Then go ahead." I breathed. He released my hands and shifted his head towards my sex. He spread my legs like butter. He stuck out his tongue and licked up and down my vagina before entering. I felt him from inside me. Tasting me. Teasing me. He shifted my hips and prodded even further. My hands clutched his hair as he pleasured me. The constant sensation of his tongue pulsing within me drove me crazy in the best of ways. I tried my best to stifle my moans and whimpers, but was only partially successful. It was enough for the kids not to hear at least.

It wasn't long before I lost myself to him. I felt my eyes cross as a knot in my stomach began to unravel. And just like that, I came on his face. He lapped up what he could hungrily. After he decided he was done, he lifted himself up and looked me in my eyes.

"Te cogeré muy fuerte, verás estrellas para meses." My face was already flushed, but it somehow got redder at the saucy Spanish.

He smirked, put a condom on, and began to position his cock to line up with me. I was still coming down from my high when, using his hand, he lifted me up by my ass and sheathed himself in me. He paused momentarily to let me adjust, but after that, he was ruthless. He began at a brisk pace, pumping inside me like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he wanted it to be over with. Maybe he was just doing this to get off. But it didn't matter. In the moment all that mattered was us. My nails clawed his back, leaving long red trails down his shoulder blades. He continued to thrust while I tried to keep quiet. If we were lucky, Clem was rebuilding the "spaceship" the kids found and no one would hear.

The act continued until he managed to hit my G-spot. I bit down sharply on my lip and tasted blood. He got the hint and re adjusted his position so that he would be focused on that point. Recklessly, he slammed into me. Over. And over. And over. The familiar knot reappeared and was dangerously close to coming undone.

"Babe- I'm close!" I choked out between moans. He grunted a small "mhmm" and kept thrusting. It quickly turned sloppy as he picked up the pace. A few moments later, I came once more. Seconds later, I felt the condom fill inside me. It was still weird how much cum he actually produces.

Carefully he pulled out and tossed the used condom in the trash. I was still splayed out on the bed as he began to pull his clothes back on.

"Where are you going?" I asked in a moment of clarity. He looked at my trembling form and continued to walk away.

My heart broke as I heard his heavy footsteps echo through the halls. I covered myself with the bedsheets and softly began to sob. I felt used. Abandoned. Neglected. Tears stained the sheets as I heard another set of footsteps near the door.

"Have you come back here to taunt me?" I barked. I pulled the sheets up to cover my breasts as the door began to open. It was Clem. I reached out for him and he came rushing to me.

"What's wROng, (Y/N)?" He asked. (I'm gonna get sick of writing his voice I'm already telling you.)

"He just left me here, Clem." I sputtered. "He fucked me and then he LEFT!"

Clem put a comforting hand on my back and began to rub circles. He let me cry openly into his broad chest as I mumbled about what had happened.

"I didn't even want to do it in the first place! I was just cooking dinner and he said-"

"Shhhhh. (Y/N). YoU nEEd to cAlm dOWn." He didn't looked me in the eye when I finally stopped crying. I tried to meet his gaze, but he kept avoiding me.

"Please don't ignore me, Clem." I mumbled, barely above a whisper.

He took my head in his rounded hands and said in the softest voice he could, "(Y/N). I wOuld nEVer lEAve yOU."

I looked up to him with pleading eyes. "Never?

"NEVeR." He said. I smiled as one last tears rolled down my cheek.

I embraced him the best I could. "Thank you, Clem," I began. "Thank you so much."

He returned the hug and placed his head on top of mine. I heard him whisper several sweet nothings as I began to drift off to sleep.

He pulled away slightly, before I tugged him closer. "Stay with me. Please." I begged. I didn't want to be left again. I didn't think I could handle it.

I scooted over and made room for him on the bed. I gently patted next to me in hopes that he would lay down next to me.

He hesitated, but decided to do it. He laid down next to me and we started spooning. I heard a surprised gasp from Clem when he pulled my closer underneath the sheets.

"(Y/N)!" He whisper shouted.

"Yes, Clem?"

"YoU'Re nAked!!!" I couldn't help but laugh at his childish nature. I turned towards him and pressed myself closer.

"Yes, Clem. I am naked." I laughed. He was so precious and pure. If the the neighbor boy really did make him, he managed to get the best parts of Membrane in there.

"ShOUld I bE nAked??" He asked. Once again, a giggle bubbles up from my throat.

"Only if you want to, Clem. Only if you want to." I said, reaching out and writing something on a sticky note.

"I'm gOing to kEEp mY clOthes On, thAnk yOu vERy muCH." He said, turning up his nonexistent nose to the idea of dressing himself down.

I turned back at him. "Then you don't have to." I snuggled closer to him. He was practically a nonhuman heater.

Smiling, I placed a kiss on his chin as I got comfortable. I smiled. This is what our relationship should be, Miguel. This is what I need it to be.

And though I may not have it with you right now, I'm happy to have it in with Clem.

Outside POV

Miguel cleaned up the half prepared dinner and ordered Foodio to come out of retirement and make something once more, to which he eagerly accepted. For the remainder of time before the food was ready, he simply worked.

Gaz eyed her dad suspiciously as he ate. She was smart enough to know what happened. And she was smart enough to know he should have stayed.

Once Dib left to go back to terrorizing Zim, she confronted her father about it. The argument between the man and his child got heated. Gaz finally convinced him to check on (Y/N).

Trudging up the stairs, he opened the door to see (Y/N) and Clem cuddling and sleeping together. On the nightstand, there was a post-it note with (Y/N)'s handwriting on it.

"I miss the times like this, Miguel. We need to come back to this."

That night Membrane got into bed with them. It wasn't much, but it was the start of him trying to be there.