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#there was someone who wrote an au on ao3
madigoround · 1 year
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Guess who now has an official ao3 account!!!
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tteokdoroki · 6 months
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VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.
✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )
✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.
✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
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absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less. 
you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu. 
he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard. 
he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend. 
okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.
you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.
there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him. 
you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust. 
rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day. 
much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her. 
they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.
rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.
his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned. 
things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.
then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl. 
maki zenin.
you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.
it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.
your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call. 
yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul. 
but you were never strong when it came to him. 
and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.
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voicemail #1  - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”
this isn’t like him. 
even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood. 
you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.
but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call. 
to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord. 
panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.
even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?” 
you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to. 
you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.
when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you. 
but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him. 
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voicemail #2  - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.” 
oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together  and just…take in the quiet. 
be close to one another.
so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.
it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’ 
maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care. 
you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years. 
the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.
he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.
“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”
you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“
“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace. 
the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.” 
okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.” 
“yeah?” 
“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“ 
your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real. 
confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood. 
“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.
“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.
“really? you don’t look like it.” 
running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.” 
“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.” 
needs it more than he needs you.
“okay.” you say simply, blankly.
“okay.” he says back. 
the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten. 
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voicemail #3 -  “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”
yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect. 
you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.
its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.
“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“ 
you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.
“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”
without you.
you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.” 
your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”
the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat. 
“i’m always here for you, yuuta.” 
“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.” 
you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep. 
ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest. 
“i love you too.”
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voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”
for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy. 
but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart. 
even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.
“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”
kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.
he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.
okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name
“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”
“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”
the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.” 
he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone. 
you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold. 
but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.
“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“
“and?” 
“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”
hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice. 
through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.
his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up. 
“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness. 
he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.” 
he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”
there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.
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voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”
there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.
there were no secrets, no major ones.
until now.
“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”
the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.
with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.
your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.
as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.
and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.
he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.
“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”
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voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!” 
( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )
yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left. 
he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.
and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.
it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.
was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages  the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.
yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.
yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…
yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?
yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.
yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.
yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.
you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.
“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.
you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.
“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”
“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”
“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden…y-you’re different!”
you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”
he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!” 
“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“ 
“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?” 
“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!” 
the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening. 
“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”
your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”
yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.
before you can hear him say that he loves you too.
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voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.” 
the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.
after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend. 
gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.
sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you. 
so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person. 
it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.
and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.
tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot. 
his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.
yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.
he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.
your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.
you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth. 
his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.
“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!”  the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.
“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit. 
he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour  like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”
yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets. 
“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.
every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm. 
“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”
blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…” 
his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist. 
your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free. 
“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.” 
you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck. 
that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“ 
“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine. 
“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”
all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss. 
“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.
“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.
you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length. 
yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit. 
“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.” 
“never?” you ask, hiccuping.
“never.” he moans.
you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together. 
the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just  kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.” 
“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.”  you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.
yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!” 
you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine  and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all. 
“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.” 
“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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jinnie-ret · 6 months
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FIC RECS
Ok so someone in my asks box asked me for some fic recommendations and I tried to add some gradually but my asks have been so weird recently so I've had to make a new post for them!
First of all ty anonnie you words were really sweet, I hope you stay healthy too!
Also just to preface I will list sfw and nsfw recs so pls if you are a minor, do not explore the nsfw recommendations, these blogs will most likely have a mdni statement so pls respect that and don't go against that :)
Now, enjoy!
SFW
Enough for you - @mixtape-racha (poly ot8 angst comfort)
We love an angst comfort fic and this is one of my faves. Take caution reading this one and read the content warnings at the top just in case! But this one is simply amazing and I wish I wrote it the end.
The Field Trip - @dreamescapeswriting (Seungmin X reader)
Seungmin and reader are teachers in this and if you follow me you may have seen me reblog this one before bc I love it and want this, also this blog has so many imagines you will be fed for days
Warm blankets - @jiniret-writings (3 parts, hurt comfort poly ot8 x reader)
I felt so emotionally invested in this story when I read it, like I felt readers pain 😭 gorgeous
jack-in-the-box -@junicai (angst, ninth member reader)
Set in kingdom. We hate mnet. Skz are very protective and reader gets the comfort she deserves in the end, love this sm!
@hyunjinsbelovedamericano - lots of headcanons and reaction type fics on their MASTERLIST, give it a look!!
Simptober 2023 - @skz-streamer
Fluff for days!!! pookie rly worked hard on this one so go and show some love because you've got so much to read here
Skz text aus - @channiesbakery
These are so so funny I cannot cope. Also explore the other fluff posts too bc they're really cute!
More text aus - @diddybok
Same goes for this blog too, explore their other stuff!
@hannahhbahng has some rly cute fluffy reads on their masterlist
@hanjiquokkaaa check out their skz reactions! My pookie slays every time
Skz fluff fics - @wooahaes
So much fluff to pick from! I fall in love every time!
Warm milk and honey - @horanghoe (poly skz x reader)
One of my fav skz comfort fics of all time, it's so so good, recommending again bc I should
In his arms, unexpectedly yours - @cheesemonky (Hyunjin x reader series)
This is a new series which I'm excited to see my pookie write !!!
@astraysimp for dad skz!!!
Nicholas Ross - @dean-a-mean-tae (skz ninth member male oc)
Love their ninth member writings so definitely check it out if you're looking for male!oc who is the ninth!
In my past, I find you and in the future, I still have you - @yangbbokari (Chan x reader)
Heartbreaking, like so angsty but it's gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous
Princess treatment with SKZ - @j-oneproduces
Each individual member x reader has a drabble and I love it so so much, very accurate imo
@skzoologist read their imagines on their ninth member oc Bae! They also have a fic called unfamiliarity using the same oc :)
I like the view - @mirisss (hybrid ot8 skz X reader)
I rly need to reread this one because I loved what I read so far on it!!!
NSFW
Rabbit hybrid reader - @authorofdanger (hybrid skz x hybrid reader)
I've linked a masterlist, I'd recommend the fic dominance and then the first few fics which are to do with reader as a rabbit hybrid! slight warning that woojin is mentioned
Red Moon - @lixiepeach (omegaverse series)
this is one of the first skz omegaverse fics I read and it is done so beautifully, as it says in the description of the series, it deals with more adult content than just smut, and the way it is explored is written so well, couldn't recommend highly enough!
Inked Petals and Message Tones - @leviackermanscleaningbuddy (poly smau with real life)
this is an ao3 skz fic which changed my life. I can't explain how much I love this, it had me on an emotional rollercoaster fr fr like it's amazing!
n.h.i.e mini series - @hyungszn (smut ot8 x reader)
damn this one really has me on my toes like the chapters are chefs kiss and it's such a good read!
Bold - @hyunsvngs (American footballer minsung x reader)
Wow wow wee wow. This one made my brain go brrr and evaporate and melt and wow the storyline in it is so so good too. Juno rly has such a good relationship with anonnies and moots and it's so lovely to see. A jupiter stan right here!!
Sanguis Limerence - @jl-micasea-fics (vampire skz x reader)
This is one of the first series I was fully committed to reading on this all and constantly checking. It's insanely amazing, I can't put it into words and now I wanna read it all back again 😭
waiting for us - @kkami-writes (smau poly ot8 X reader)
I'm in love with this!!! Perhaps my fav skz smau like the character development as well is really nice to see and it's an easy read if you find it easier to read it in text messages form
Anger management - @2chopsticks2eyes (minsung x reader)
This is so hot and the way the storyline progresses as well is beautiful
@1-800-shedevil I'm in awe of her and her blog. Gorgeous writer, gorgeous writing. Her posts about body positivity rly are so helpful and her words are so comforting
Sharing = caring - @cbini (ot8 X reader)
This is unbelievably good and if you haven't seen it yet? Do you even Tumblr? Love how ems has such a good relationship with moots and in answering asks too! cbinian for life
Better than revenge - @lixie-phoria (smau Jeongin x reader)
I'm so obsessed with this series so far, putting it here bc there's smut to be added in the future. But I'm in love with it so far wow!!!
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maedae-maedae · 14 days
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Your Hands All Over My Guilty Conscience
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☆ Okkotsu Yuuta x F!Reader
☆ Chapter 1/7
☆ Genre: Fluff & Smut, Mutual Pining
☆ Warnings: NSFW 18+
☆ Contents: Aged-Up Characters, College AU, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Obsession, Loyalty, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Drinking, House Party, Masturbation
☆ Word Count: 10.6k
☆ Summary: Linked at the hip as best friends since birth, you and Yuta have never once not been at eachother's side. Anyone who knew one of you, had to know the other. You made quite the reputation for yourselfs as an inseparable duo, throughout all your school years together. Yuta was committed to keep things this way, despite his secret feelings for you. He was strong-willed, keeping his longing emotions reined in and your relationship stable just the way it is.
But once the two of you graduate and enter university, this proves to be more difficult than Yuta anticipated. He finds himself in a whole other playing field. One that forces him to see and confront his feelings for you head-on. His once clean consciences regarding you, starts becoming more and more tainted. And worse, uni only seems to pull the two of you apart, something neither of you are used to. What is he supposed to do with all these new experiences and deep yearning for you?
☆ A/N: i actually wrote this chapter a while ago but didnt want to share until i had more planned out and written! hopefully next chapter is soon but this first one is probably longer than the ones following will be! think of it like a detailed opening introduction to the story.
warning: this story switches from fluff to smut/perverted a lot. might throw you off at times. also, HEAVY on the obsession tag. youre both obsessed with eachother but i really went over the top to express how crazy yuta is for you. hehe
Read on AO3
—————————————————
Chapter 1 - Firsts
Yuta has a guilty conscience.
He’s known he was in love with you since high school. And aside from the painfulness that comes with an unreciprocated crush, he actually didn’t mind his feelings. He liked being head over heels for you. It was a privilege, he thought, to get to love you, even just to know you.
The two of you have been glued by the hip since birth practically. Your mom’s were best friends and somehow ended up pregnant at the same time, basically raising you two together. It really shouldn’t be a surprise the way he feels, after having you by his side all this time, how could he ever love someone else as deeply as he does you?
You were popular in high school, and people would only really acknowledge him in the way it related to you. “Y/n’s friend”. “That guy thats always with Y/n.” And, Yutas personal favorite, “Y/n’s boyfriend.” That one was always used in a way to tease you, and you would always refute it and scold whoever said it. But deep down it made him happy to be called that, and maybe that’s why. Maybe that’s why at some point he started doing things in the hallways or the lunchroom to enforce that rumor. Very subtle physical affection that he was known for doing with you at this point. Fingers gently entangling with yours while the two of you talk about something by the window. It’s so gentle that you don’t even notice or mind, but anyone who was looking at you could see that you’re obviously holding hands, albeit weakly. The need to always be touching you in some way when you were together. Shoulders slumped into eachother while sitting together, pinkies wrapped while you sit on the school grass with friends, his hands grazing against yours when you walk side by side. He could never get enough of the little things. And yeah he did it for the rumors, so everyone would know that even if it wasn’t official, you were his. You were claimed already. No one could be this close with you and get away with it. But when you two were alone it was even better.
Yuta's love language was most definitely physical touch. You’ve always known that he likes to be physical, and that was just his way of showing he liked you. Platonically, in your eyes. When you’d hang out at each others house, he was still always connected with you in some way. Head in your lap as the two of you talk about some drama in your class. Arms around you from behind with his head on your shoulder as you finish a level of a game he already died in. Legs entangled in various ways under the kotatsu as you both do homework. It took many forms. It never bothered you luckily, in fact you’d long become accustomed to it. Even as kids Yuta was the same, and your moms used to eat it up and say you two would be married someday, taking a thousand one pictures of you for that reason.
It really was all innocence until sometime in high school when he had developed feelings. His physical affection never changed but the feeling and motive behind it might’ve. And sometimes he quite literally couldn't do some of the stuff he used to do when you were younger, because it would most definitely give him away now.
He’ll never forget the day it really changed for him. Playing video games with his arms around you like normal, but it wasn’t normal this time. His heart was beating, he was nervous. Looking up at you from your shoulder, he couldn’t get over how you look pretty from every angle. How cute were your reactions to every hit of damage you take in the game. Suddenly he’s incredibly aware of where his hands are sitting, how close you are, your warmth, your breathing, how good you smell. Something in his awareness heightens, like the flick of a switch, and he realizes that this is different. Different to what he thought it was. He also realizes how bad that is, and it makes his stomach drop. He went home early that day, but nothing ever changed. Only the way he felt.
After that day Yuta knew he had to be mindful with the way he acted with you, and even in the way he thought of you. He allowed himself to have loving thoughts of you, for they could always be rationalized in someway to be friendly. “You’re so pretty” could be followed by “so I cant believe none of the guys in class have confessed to you yet.” and “You have the most precious laugh” could be backed by “its no wonder why you have so many friends”. Stuff like that. What he wouldn’t allow and actively tried to avoid, were thoughts that could not possibly be platonic in any use of the word. Like sexual thoughts.
It was only natural. After becoming aware of his feelings and with the effects of maturing into a young adult he was bound to have thoughts like this. But he wouldn’t allow it, not even in your absence, in his own privacy. Of course he couldn’t fight sexual urges all together, but he did his very best not to think of you when he was doing something like that. And Yuta was very good at self-discipline, the reason why his test scores are the best in your grade. He was successful in pushing the thoughts away, avoiding seeing you in this new forbidden light. For a long time.
And everything was fine. You never suspected a thing from him, your friendship never changed, and you even ended up enrolling in the same university.
That’s where his trouble started.
College is a totally different experience from high school that he wasn’t quite expecting. And everything has been taking a toll on him lately.
When the two of you first start, everything’s fine. You already know a bunch of freshman from your school, but you’re also easy to make friends with a bunch of other people as well. Yuta mostly stays with your smaller friend group that you two had in highschool. Inumaki and Panda got into the same Uni as well, not to mention the boys ended up living together.
And Yuta has no real issue with you making new friends at all, of course he’s happy for you. You still like to have him with you all the time, even if you don’t have many classes together. So long as he can still have time with you, he’s happy. What starts to bother him is the way the guys around you stare. Men in uni are much different from high school. And most of the guys here have no idea about the rumors of you two, all his years of showing such a thing are now practically worthless. You don’t notice, but he always does. He hated the way they stare, as if undressing you with their disrespectful eyes, grinning and whispering to friends, probably making sly comments he can’t hear when they shouldn’t even have the right to take the slightest glance in your direction.
“Yuta?” You call to him from where you sit next to him in the dining hall. He just now realizes that he’d been staring down these two guys a couple tables away in his peripheral vision.
“Huh? Yeah?” He calls back to you, turning to look at you now.
“Is something wrong?“
“Huh? No, nothing.”
“Oh, okay… well, did you hear what I said?” You ask and his heart sinks a little. He wasn’t listening, he didnt even realize you were talking to him.
“No.. I’m sorry. Tell me again?” He offers, giving you his full attention now. You give him a smile at hearing his usual sweet tone of voice when he speaks to you. You love everything about the way he is with you.
“I was talking about a party I got invited to-“
“You were invited to a party?? But-“
“Yu, let me finish.” You tell him before he can start lecturing you about it being dangerous or something, as you’re positive he was going to. He pouts a little. Cute.
“It’s for freshman. An upperclassman invited me so I think it’s for all years, but I guess it’s more of a welcoming party.” You explain and Yuta only frowns more. Since when did you make friends with an upperclassman? He’s never seen you with one. And the thought of you being at a party with a bunch of drunk guys or just drunk people in general makes him nervous.
His fingers automatically find yours under the table. Without thinking he finds a way to connect with you. It may have been to calm himself down, or maybe to get your attention again so you could see that he’s clearly uncertain about this idea. He couldn’t say. It does get your attention though, and you give him a look of understanding as your fingers intertwine a bit more.
“I know college parties can be kinda crazy and all that, and I wouldn’t want to go alone anyways even if they weren’t. They said I could invite whoever I wanted so.. You guys wanna come?”
“Sure, I’m down.” Inumaki says, and Yuta had almost forgot his friends were there for a second.
“Oh, yeah! Our first college party! I’ll be there.” Panda grins and you smile at their agreement. Your gaze returns to Yuta again, and his to yours.
“I’m.. not really into parties but..” He starts and you look like you’re anticipating his agreement. “If you wanna go, of course I’ll go with you.”
You smile at him, sweet as ever. But you do feel a bit bad about the possibility that you’re forcing him. As much as you want him there, you don’t want him to be miserable going with you.
“You don’t have to, y’know. Just because I’m going. I wont make you.” You remind him and he smiles too now, nodding.
“I know. I want to.” He reassures you and you feel relieved at that. “Plus, I want to make sure you guys are all safe. It’s better to go with a group to stuff like this and have someone to look over everyone.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.” Inumaki tells him. “I can’t drink.”
Right, Inumaki has a chronic condition that makes his throat very sensitive, of course he wouldn’t be allowed alcohol.
“And I have a high tolerance! I’ll be fine.” Panda informs too, and you all look at him like you’re suspicious of how he even knows that. He just smiles.
“Well, still. Being in one place with a ton of drunk people is dangerous on its own.” Yuta says anyways, going back to picking at his food.
You give him a knowing look.
“You can just admit you wanna come and have fun. It’s okay, we wont judge you.” You tease and the other two chuckle a bit.
“Well, maybe.” Yuta gives after a second of embarrassment by your call out. “But I’m mostly going for the other reason.”
You laugh at how cute he is, squeezing his hand before letting it go to hug him. He blushes in concession with both your adorable laugh and your warm embrace. His two friend wiggle their eyebrows at him as your back is to them and Yuta rolls his eyes at them. They are always contempt to tease him in silence. Yuta never even told them about how he feels, but he knows they just know. And he doesn’t mind. As long as it doesn’t get to you.
Agreeing to go to this party with you was probably both the best and worst thing he could’ve done. It would’ve been better if he could’ve talked you out of coming, but he knew from the beginning that wouldn’t be an option, and he wouldn’t want to control you.
When you first get there, the four of you are a bit awkward. Panda offers to take your first ever shot with you and somehow Yuta even agrees to do “just the one”. You take the hit pretty well, but you all burst out laughing when Yuta makes the most disgusted expression you’ve ever seen on him.
It’s sweet, even if embarrassing, the two of you having “first” moments together like this. It’s not long before your two friends are nowhere to be found, and Yuta can assume why they left you two alone. It’s also not long after that you’re convincing him to take another couple of shots with you, even though he hated the first one, he loved having these moments with you. He’d do anything with you. Even follow you to the center of the room to dance when he’s always known he’s not the best dancer.
When you’re dancing, quite a few people come up to you to talk, even just to say hello. You really know a lot of people. But it doesn’t bother him at all because even with everyone that comes by, you never once let go of his hand. And when your attention isn’t on him, he can freely admire you as much as he wants without having to be cautious about the way he looks at you.
He knows the alcohol is catching up to him a little when he starts to get needy. Any kind of connection with you is enough for him on a normal day, but right now he has the urge to be all over you, and it’s taking everything in him to keep it subtle.
You’re still talking to some girl he’s maybe seen a few times— he can’t recall, when he decides he needs your attention again. He pulls your hand towards him, but it doesn’t deter you from the loud  conversation you’re having, much more than a quick glance at him. On the inside it feels like he could start whining, begging for you to look at him, be with him in this moment. The music isn’t helping either, some seductive rnb song with vulgar lyrics pumping in his ears. He does something he’s never done before, without much thought to it either. His free hand reaches out and grabs your waist, gripping you tightly and pulling you towards him. You gasp and look at him with surprise. Even more surprised when you see the longing expression on his face. Your friend seemingly understands and leaves you two be, to Yutas relief.
He can’t stand the embarrassment he feels with the way you’re looking at him, but he also can’t bare to be apart from you at all anymore. He pulls you in, his arms wrapping around you, hands resting in a dangerous area. Any lower and this couldn’t be considered platonic at all. He bends over a bit so his head can nuzzle into your neck. He wants to feel you, all of you, even more than this. But he stops here.
“Yu…?” You say in a bit of a confused tone, right in his ear. A chill runs down his spine. Your hands had already come up to wrap around him as well, rubbing his back in a way that made him feel so warm.
“Mmve you.” He mumbles and he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore.
“Hm?” You ask for him to clarify, voice smooth like honey, but he doesn’t say anything else. The two of you stay like that, starting to rock to the music when it’s clear that this is not just a hug.
It’s not like you look out of place at all, there are plenty of people around you doing something similar, even straight up making out.
“Yu.. look at me.” You tell him and he can’t help but comply. His head lifts up from your shoulder and he stands up a bit straighter to look at you.
“You okay??” You ask him sweetly and his heart races looking into your eyes. It’s too much for him. This is all too much.
He nods anyways, eyes closing and forehead coming to rest against yours.
He thinks you must be at least a little drunk too by the way your hands start to caress his back and sides. But he doesn’t even think about what you might be thinking about him being so clingy like this. He knows you don’t mind, that you understand, you always understand him. He loves you for it.
“You drunk already? Hmm??” You say and he doesn’t have to be looking at you to hear the smirk in your voice.
“I mean I expected it but you’re really a lightweight, huh?” You say to him and this time he opens his eyes to see you smiling.
“Of course I am.. this is my first time drinking.” Yuta says in basically a whine. Your heart races.
The thing Yuta doesn’t know, is that you’re obviously just as needy for him right now. You don’t think the alcohol has really gotten to you that much, and thank god for that honestly. But you love seeing him like this, it’s making you feel all types of things about him.
There’s a silence as he frowns. You tilt your head as if saying “what?” to him.
“I need to use the bathroom.” He tells you so bluntly that it makes you laugh. But before you know it you’re leading him to the bathroom, guiding him by the hand. Truth is, you don’t know where it is either, you’ve never been here. But you feel a sort of need to take charge for some reason. You find it pretty quickly anyways, and tell him you’ll wait outside.
Relieving himself proves difficult after having gotten half hard from what just happened. He’s lucky you didnt feel it, or maybe you did and you didn’t say anything. Who knows? Eventually he figures it out and gets back outside.
His heart sinks when he doesn’t see you. Glancing around frantically, he tries to look for any sight of you. Red, you were wearing red, that and any of your features that he’s so familiar with would be impossible to miss. He starts pushing past people, anxiously looking for where you might’ve gone. It’s maybe 20 minutes later when he finally finds you, in the kitchen. After the relief washes over him, he realizes that the anxiety looking for you definitely sobered him up already.
He wasn’t able to see at first, someone blocking his view, but as he moves further into the kitchen, he catches it. A guy talking to you, but not just any guy, the guy from the lunch room the other day.
His dirty mouth probably having said disgusting things about you—that you’re totally unaware of, yapping away at you as you nod at him.
No. He wont have it.
He continues to push past people, small apologizes leaving his mouth all the same even with all the anger running through him right now. You’re surprised when he grabs your wrist, even though he’s still gentle about it, it comes so suddenly.
“Oh! Yuta, you-“
“Where’d you go?” He asks immediately, as if scolding you.
“Huh? Where’d I.. oh! My friend pulled me away I- oh but I told someone waiting in line to tell you where I went did they not tell you?”
“No. No one told me.” He states coldly and you frown.
“Oh. Sorry..” You say but realize that now he’s glaring at the guy you were just talking to. “Oh, yeah, this is-“
“Don’t care.” He mutters and before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back towards the living room from where he came in. His pull isn’t harsh, you could easily refute, but you follow him anyways.
He leads you away until you’re in the corner of the room, away from the speakers where it’s a bit quieter.
“Wha was that? Kinda rude, Yu.” You say, confused, and now significantly more disoriented. Your friends had pulled you away for a drinking game, and Yuta was in the bathroom for a bit.
“You said you would wait outside.” He says, almost like pouting, but his expression is stern and serious.
“Yeah but you were taking foreverrr.” You tease, giving him a silly smile. “What were you even doing in there, huh?”
“That doesn’t matter, you scared me! I told you places like this are dangerous for-“ He starts to lecture you, but cuts himself off to focus on you for a second. It finally starts to click for him that you aren’t in the same state he left you in. Your eyes are lazy, kind of wandering. Your body swaying and unbalanced. And just from knowing how your body language usually is, he knows something is really off.
“Did you drink more while I was in the bathroom?” He asks.
“Yeah.” You tell him honestly, not seeing any reason to hide it.
“How much?”
“Ummmm….”
“You don’t know?!”
“I’m thinking!!”
You put your finger to your lips and start working your brain to remember, counting off the number in your head.
“Y/n, you’re scaring me.” Yuta says as it takes you longer than he thinks it should to answer.
“It was like.. four.. actually, five.”
“Five what?”
“Shots.”
“Of what??”
“Um.. alcohol?”
“You don’t even know what they were giving you?” Yuta stares at you in complete disbelief.
“Well, they didn’t tell me, so..” You mumble a reply, feeling guilty now like you must have made a mistake. “Does it really matter?”
“Y/n!” Yuta says as if scolding you, again.
“What? It was a game, we were all just having fun!!” You retort.
“You can’t just take any drink anyone gives you! I cant believe I have to tell you that.” He says, crossing his arms.
“They’re not just anyone they’re my friends!” You retort again, frowning at him.
“I’m your friend. You hardly know these people!” He argues without hesitation and something in you hurts at those words. 
“Yu…”
“And what’s in that, then?” He inquires, pointing down, and— up until now you totally forgot the red cup in your hand. Oh, make that 6(?) drinks you guess.
“It’s mango juice and… vodka.” You tell him warily, knowing you have no clue what kind of alcohol it actually is. But you can’t lie to his face, you know you can’t. “…Probably.”
“Probably?!”
“Yu!! Stop worrying! Look, I’m fine! I’m safe! And I have you here, so iss okay.” You tell him genuinely and Yuta’s heart pangs. Knowing you have so much security and trust in him to know you’ll be safe as long as he’s here, makes him incessantly happy. But he just doesn’t trust the people here, and god forbid he lose you again.
“Y/n, let’s go home.” He tells you as nicely as he can.
“What? No, I’m having fun.” You tell him to his dismay and he frowns. He really doesn’t want to argue with you.
“Please. The alcohol you had probably hasn’t even really caught up with you yet. We should get you home before it does.”
“Yu, I’m not leaving. I came to have a good time.” You tell him again firmly and he basically pouts at this. “Cmon. I wanna have a good time with you too. Let’s go dance again.”
You entice him, your hand finding his for the millionth time, that look in your eyes as you stare up at him. You have to know what you do to him, right?
“…Alright.” He agrees and your smile spreads into a grin, practically jumping in place with excitement and victory at convincing him.
“But!” He interrupts, putting his finger up and making you go still again. “No more drinking for the night.” 
“Whattt?” You frown and protest as he takes the cup that was basically empty anyways out of your hands.
“You’ve had a lot already for your first time and I don’t want you to get sick. Let’s just hang out for the rest of the time, okay?”
You pout as he waits for your compliance to his terms. You think about how likely it would be for him to actually carry you out of here if you didn’t.
“Promise me? Please?” He says sweetly, looking into your eyes as if further asking with them. You cant say no to him like this.
“Fine.” You tell him and you adore the way he smiles afterward. “For you.”
After that, the two of you are back in the middle of where everyone else is dancing. This time he isn’t really intoxicated at all and maybe that’s why he’s not so needy. Your other friends come to join with you, even inumaki and panda as well. He sees you having a good time and that’s enough for him to have a good time too. Though he supposes he’s also just having fun dancing and being young with everyone like this.
The night about peaks there.
After dancing a bit, you lean into Yuta’s ear to tell him you’re gonna go get water for the two of you. You’re basically yelling since you guys are dancing pretty close to the speakers this time. When Yuta finally understands you he shoots you a concerned look. You roll your eyes.
“You trust meee, right?” You say again into his ear. He nods without hesitating. Of course he trusts you.
“I’m just getting water, promise.” You tell him again. “I’ll be back.”
Before he can offer to get it instead, you’re gone.
He watches you go, snaking your way through people toward the kitchen. He feels a bit awkward with you gone now, like it’s not as fun in your absence. Still he watches your friends and his dance along together, and he can’t help smiling at them.
After a minute he feels a hand on his arm, and he looks over, thinking it’s you. It’s a girl he’s never seen before. Or at least he thinks he hasn’t. She’s mouthing something at him, probably talking at normal volume, but he can’t hear obviously.
“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you!” He shouts over the music and she beckons him with her hand to come closer. He complies, not really thinking much of it. She must have something to tell him. Maybe it’s about you?
When he does lean in, shes so close he can feel her breathing. It’s weird, being this close to someone else and it almost feels wrong. She just starts a normal conversation with him, asking where he’s from and what year he is. It seems normal and Yuta talks along with her, thinking it a little strange to be having a normal conversation somewhere so inconvenient. But he’s polite about it. She keeps talking, and all Yuta can think about is where you are. Would it take this long to get water? No, but, he trusts you. He doesn’t need to worry.
“Are you okay?” The girl asks and he snaps back to the current moment again.
“H-huh? Oh, yeah.” He yells back, as they’ve been doing for a few minutes.
She says something like he’s very cute, or that’s what he thinks she said. When it’s clear he didn’t properly hear her, she pulls him close, forcefully by his shirt. It’s when she starts saying things in his ear that are obviously flirting now that he finally sees you out of the corner of his eye. You look shocked but, hey, you do have two cups of water with you.
You start talking to the girl, back and forth, the two of you talking quickly about something he’s not quite hearing.
Something something- you. Something something- your boyfriend? Something something- just leave something alone.
Then they start getting louder, and he starts to hear better. This is also where he starts to realize you’re not just talking to her, you’re arguing with her.
“Why do you even care? _____ jealous?” The other girl says, parts of what she’s saying still kind of blank. The two of them are clearly angry now. Even your friends are starting to wonder whats going on.
“Excuse me? Who even are you? You ____ and then ____?!”
From there it all happens so quickly, Yuta barely has time to process it all. He knows how you get when you’re angry, he’s seen you argue with girls and even guys from your school before. Hell, even when you were kids you used to get into fights with other kids who would bully him until they stopped. It’s not that you look for a fight, or that you’re easy to get upset at all, but when you do you’re a hundred percent with it. You don’t waver or back down, as long as you believe you’re in the right. But, what could this girl have possibly done to make you so mad? And what’s gonna happen when how you usually are in an arguement is boosted with the effects of being intoxicated?
He has no time to prevent it at all. Voices get louder, you both get closer. Then he hears the other girl say “Oh, why don’t we test that then, huh?”
She turns to him, calls something out to him, but he just continues to stand there, very confused. Suddenly her hands are reaching up for him, taking his face in her hands and pulling him towards her own. Again, this is all happening too fast for Yuta to process. He only realizes shes about to kiss him when all at once the girl is now drenched in water, some of the splash bouncing off and hitting him as well. She freezes to look down at herself in shock, and Yuta stares with eyes wide. He’s too late to look at you because when he does, you’re already lunging at her, shoving her towards the wall with no remorse.
He’s quick to act this time as you’re about to go after her for more, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back as you actively squirm and yell for him to let you go. It’s to his dismay when he sees the other girl coming towards you now rather than leaving. Your other friends join in to help in holding the both of you back. It’s a bit of a struggle to get you two apart, but before he knows it, Yuta and the other boys have successfully gotten you away. Which happened to be upstairs, since the girls were taking the other girl outside.
Thankfully it didn’t cause too big of a scene. People around had stopped to look and see what was going on, but once the fight was prevented, everything went back to normal.
“What the hell was that?! What happened?!” Panda shouts at you as you’re still panting from all the struggle to get out of the hold of the three boys that now stand around you in some random bedroom. You’re on the bed, and Yuta sits next to you. You don’t even want to look at him.
“What did she say??” Inumaki adds.
“Are you okay?” Yuta also adds, sweetly more concerned about that than anything.
“I’m fine.” You say in a tone that indicates you are infact not.
“Oh, sure, answer Yuta but not us.” Panda says, rolling his eyes. “Can we get an explanation?”
“Guys. Cmon. That was obviously a lot. She needs time to process.” Yuta says in your defense and it’s honestly hard to stay mad at him, though you’re not even quite sure why you are. You’re feeling a lot of things right now.
The three of them go back and forth a bit and you’re not having it, already upset enough.
“Can you guys jush leave me alone!!” You shout and again, you’re not even sure why. You don’t want to be alone.
“…What?” Yuta says, almost like in disbelief, and you turn to see his sad expression. Something on your heart tugs. You don’t think you’ve ever asked Yuta to leave you alone. He was always around to help you even in your lowest times, even when it was the two of you who fought.
You hear a sigh from Inumaki.
“Alright, we get it, we’ll leave you two alone. Lovebirds.” He says, muttering the last part. You blush slightly, they totally read through you just now.
“We expect an explanation later though!” Panda calls on their way out. The two of you stare at the door for a moment after.
When Yuta finally turns back at you, he’s genuinely surprised to see you look so angry. Were you mad at him?
“What’s… going on? What happened back there?” He asks you gently, cautiously.
“Yuta you are so clueless!!” You shout at him suddenly, making him jump.
“H-huh?!”
“You didn’t notice?! She was flirting with you!” You say and push his chest, too gentle to actually be real anger.
“What?? I mean.. well I kind of noticed, eventually…” he says sheepishly, a bit confused. “Why does it matter?”
He watches your face heat up and you quickly look away from him.
“Oh my god,” you say, putting your face in your hands. “You make me feel crazy.”
“Huh?” Yuta mumbles again and then he suddenly remembers that you’re still drunk. He goes to touch your arm but you snap back around at him before he can.
“She was trying to kiss you!!” You shout and he nods in surprise.
“I know!” He confirms and his heart speeds up when he realizes that was clearly not the thing to say. You suddenly look sad instead of mad, and it breaks his heart.
“I-It’s not like I wanted her to. It happened so fast I-“
“Yeah right, when I got there she was all over you! You’ve always been clueless!! It’s like this any time any girl flirts with you! In highschool too.”
…what?
When Yuta looks back on tonight, it was obvious that girl was flirting with him, sure, even if he did notice kind of late. But high school? He never had girls who flirted with him, not that he can think of.
“What.. do you mean? I was never hit on in high school.”
“Yeah, that’s what you think.” You say, poking his chest. “That’s my point.”
This is troubling for him as he starts to really analyze anytime any girl might of flirted with him in the past. No matter how hard he thinks, he can’t even think of one.
Then he realizes something. What… does this have to do with anything? So you were mad that that girl was flirting with him. Got that. But why? There’s really only one answer right? But there’s no way… it has to be in a platonic way, right? Jealousy.
He snaps out of his thoughts suddenly when he hears a familiar sniffle, and his awareness lights up, like an instinct. You’re crying. You’re crying right next to him, and it seems like it’s his fault. His heart aches and he immediately pulls you into an embrace, quietly cooing soft affirming words and apologies, rubbing your back. He remembers AGAIN, the fact that you are very drunk, and of course your actions are not going to completely make sense to him or anyone. People do unreasonable things when they’re drunk right? Things they’d never think of doing sober. So, he decides to just comfort you and assure you rather than argue or try to understand anymore.
You stay like this, gently crying into his chest and gripping his shirt as he holds you, his chin resting on your head. He knows exactly when you need this kind of comforting, and he’s very happy to give it to you. You go quiet after a few minutes, and he doesn’t pull back until you quietly call his name.
“Yuta.” You say, slightly muffled.
“Mm?” He hums as he softly pulls back to look at you.
You look up at him, eyes wet and face tinted pink, an absolute painting of purity underneath him.
“We should kiss.” You tell him, completely genuine.
“h-hUH?!” He squeaks and the crack in his voice does not help his face that immediately turned red at your words.
“You don’t want to?” You say sadly and this feels like some kind of test.
“No, I!- I mean… why… do you say that?” His words leave his mouth in a pathetic way that he hates, as if betraying him.
“It’s just…” You start sheepishly, and now you have to look away, embarrassed. “We’ve been together since we were kids.. we’ve done everything together. All the firsts. So…”
He watches as you breathe in and turn to look at him again, hanging on to every word you’re saying.
“Doesn’t it make sense that we should be eachothers first kiss too? It’d be weird to give it to anyone else… and you almost had someone take your first kiss tonight… that can happen too, so…”
You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk.
He has to hammer that into his head to not lose himself here. But even repeating it to himself over and over, he’s leaning in, and you’re leaning in. You’re so close, something he’s always wanted deep down is right in front of him, teasing, taunting him.
It takes everything in him to pull back again.
“I can’t…” He says, his eyes clenched shut.
“Why?”
“Because you’re drunk.”
“And?”
“And… it would be wrong…” he continues, really trying his best to keep composure here, and somewhat failing. His eyes shoot open when he feels you climb over him, coming to sit in his lap where your legs stratal him. Now this is something you two have never done. Your body is so warm on top of his, and your hands too when they come to rest against his chest. One hand comes up to brush a hair out of his eyes, then falling down to caress his cheek. He swallows hard.
What are you doing?
“This is about me?” You ask him curiously. Your sober self would be shocked by how easily you’re about to do something you’ve always dreamed of doing to Yuta specifically. You want to kiss him, of course, but you also want to tease him. You love to do so on a normal day, but you’ve been given quite the special opportunity with the current situation and your rise in confidence thanks to the drinks earlier.
“Yes.. b-but this is-“
“If it’s about me, then let’s just do it. I’m practically sober.” You lie to him, which you never do. You really want this.
“You’re not. You’re drunk, I can tell.” He calls your bluff even in his flustered state. You’re caught. You can’t really argue with him on that. Instead you bring your head down to lay on his shoulder, resting there for a moment. He sighs quietly in relief, thinking you’d given in, his arms coming in to hold you again. There’s a moment of peace.
A loud gasp leave his lips suddenly when you start pressing your lips to his neck. Softly, you place one by one, moving around to make sure to give him plenty. You feel like you’re on fire when you hear him start to moan at this. You knew he’d be the type to moan and whine, you know him. You want to hear more. You cant stop yourself.
“Ah.. Y/n..” he breathes as you kiss up to the nape of his ear and along his collar bone. You even come up to give his cheek a couple of pecks the way you think you must’ve when you were really little. My how times change, and yet not at all. All he can think about is how soft your lips are, trying to fight against is own pleasure.
“Y/n..” he says, strained, like he’s pleading you. “Really, we can’t do this… Please, stop.”
At his specific request for you to stop, you do. You pull back and look at him. His face is flushed like crazy and he looks so lusted. Yet he said no, and his hands stay put on your back. In fact, he’s not moved a muscle at all since you climbed onto him.
“You really don’t want to?” You ask, almost sadly.
“I already told you..” he trails off weakly, not able to look at you in the eyes. His face is really burning up. Honestly even he’s impressed with how much he’s able to hold back right now. Literally any other circumstance. Anywhere, anytime, he would give into you. But he would hate himself if tomorrow you said this was a mistake, or god forbid got angry at him for letting you do something in a state where your minds not right like this. You trusted him to keep you safe, and that includes from himself. He is a man after all, childhood best friend or otherwise. He’s doing this for you essentially, even though it’s ironically the opposite of what you want in the moment.
“If you’d rather have your first time with someone else, you can just say that.” You say, stubborn, frowning at him. What first are you talking about here?
“You know it’s not that-“
“Say you don’t want to and I’ll drop it.” You say sternly, giving him the hard choice. You don’t know how you got stuck on this, or even if your reasoning or actions were making sense. All you know is you want to kiss your best friend, and you want him to want it too.
He groans, almost a whine and you feel him squeeze your sides. You get excited for a moment, thinking he’ll give in.
“Fine... I… I don’t want to.” He says finally, and looking you in the eyes when he does so you know that he’s serious this time. He can’t even believe it himself, he knows that’s a huge lie. But it’s the only way to get you to stop apparently, and it’s for your own good. Plus, this is something he hasn’t even allowed himself to fantasize about, and now it’s happening right in front of him. He’s a little scared of what this might do to him, and more importantly, your relationship. He’s also unsure if he has the self control to stop after kissing you once. Cross that first line and there’s no telling where this will end up. Maybe that’s the real reason he knows he has to hold back for your sake. One kiss wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
You go from looking hurt, and then back to angry. You push yourself up off him, coming to stand.
“Fine. Then, maybe I should go get that girl. Since I obviously ruined what you two had going on.” You shoot at him, turning towards the door. Apparently being drunk really amplifies your jealousy, which is new to you. Usually you’re very good at hiding or completely ignoring it.
“Y/n, that’s crazy. Why would I want to kiss some girl I hardly know?”
“Well you clearly weren’t against it!” You say, turning to him again with your arms crossed.
“I didn’t notice! I don’t want to kiss her!” He insists.
“Whatever!” You head for the door again, hand taking the knob. You feel him grab your other hand.
“Y/n-“
“Let go!” You shout and try to pull your arms from his grasp to no avail.
“Please. Just stop. Listen to me.” He pleads, ignoring your squirming to pull you back to him. You finally look up at him, annoyed.
“You’re my best friend. I’ve had you for as long as I can remember, and you’re right. We’ve done everything together. It would be weird to have my first with anyone else, so… I actually think, what you said.. I think it’s a good idea. I want to do it.” He tells you quickly so that you’ll hear him out. You look at him a little surprised.
“Wha..? But you just-“
“I’ll tell you what…” He stops you before you can retaliate. “If you wake up tomorrow, when you’re sober, and you still want that first kiss.. I’ll do it.”
He tells you this and you immediately believe him. You know he will, he never goes back on his word. Still, your stubborn expression doesn’t waver much.
“I promise.” He says, squeezing your hand and giving you a genuine look. That does it. You let out a sigh.
Truth is, ever since standing up, you’ve felt kind of dizzy and gross. It’s been hard to even stay focused on what you were mad about.
You lean forward, dropping into Yuta’s chest, surprising him a little.
“I don’t feel good.” You say weakly and he chuckles.
“Let’s leave, yeah?” He suggests and you nod, following as he finally opens the door and leads you down the hall. He only stops in front of the stairs when you stop, pulling his arm by staying in place. He looks back at you, confused, but understands almost immediately after seeing you. He realizes now that he must’ve underestimated just how “not good” you felt.
He takes you back towards the bathroom, gently, but with urgency. You make it there and luckily there’s no line either. He guides you in with a hand on your back, shutting and locking the door after you.
Honestly you don’t know why but you’re embarrassed by what he’s about to see. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in terrible states before, sick, or sobbing, or depressed. But this is just, humiliating for some reason, especially after what just happened. Though it could be worse.
He of course pulls your hair back as you let it out into the toilet. He hates hearing your sounds of pain and he’s pretty sure he hears you crying as well. He wishes he could help more, but once he thinks you’re done he just gently rubs your back for a while.
“Sorry..” you mumble to him without moving and he shakes his head immediately.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He reassures you.
I love you. I would do this for you everytime. Is what he wishes he could say. And he so badly wants to think about everything that just happened in that bedroom, to replay it in his mind and ask questions. But he knows to save it for later. Your condition is more important right now.
Eventually people outside need to use the restroom, and it seems like you’re not going to throw up anymore, so Yuta helps you up and outside. But even then, you feel too weak to stand and you decide to sit against the hallway wall. He takes a seat next to you without question. He sits with you for a while, even after your head falls onto his shoulder and he can tell that you’re asleep.
Panda and Inumaki find you and suggest leaving, so Yuta knows he has to wake you. He shakes you slightly by the shoulder.
“Hey..” he says softly when you groan and blink your eyes a couple times hazily.
“Think you can stand?” He asks you.
You groan and nuzzle further into his shoulder.
“Mdont wantto.” You mumble into him and he smiles.
“Alright, I’m gonna carry you then, okay?” He tells you and you just hum in response.
Eventually you’re on Yuta’s back, walking outside around your school campus to get to his apartment. Most of its a blur as you fall in and out of sleep through the whole walk.
Yuta tells the two very eager-to-know boys about what he thinks happened with you and that girl, but not much about what came after with him. They say the same things his brain was trying to tell him and he kept ignoring. They say it’s obvious. That theres no such thing as “platonic jealousy” like that. But he’s still in denial.
“I’m sure it was only a platonic thing.” He says, trying to convince more than his friends, looking over and checking on you every few seconds to make sure you’re still out. “We’ve never been romantic with anyone so shes probably just nervous about what would happen. I would be too.”
They don’t believe him, and he’s not sure if he does either. But he has to. Because if tonight meant anything else, then what does that mean for you two?
Yuta decided a long time ago that he would never confess, not unless he was 100% sure of your feelings. For fear of losing this privilege to know you, to get to have you around, even if just platonically. He couldn’t bear it. Things had to stay the same.
When you get back to his apartment, he brings you straight to his bed, ready to let you sleep there and find his own place on the couch.
“Do you want to shower first? I can lend you some clean clothes.” He suggests softly as you both sit in the quiet of the room. He brushes your hair gently behind your ear so that it’s out of your face.
“You’re just saying that cus you don’t want me to get all my sweat and stuff on your sheets.” You accuse, but he can tell it’s not hostile at all. You’re not mad anymore.
“I don’t care about that, I can just do laundry tomorrow. But I think it’d feel better for you that way.” He tells you honestly and you sigh. He knows you don’t want to.
“I just wanted to remind you that you can, you don’t have to. But you know what’s mine is yours here, right? If you need anything just go ahead.” He says sweetly and you hum, finally moving to lay down, resting your head on his pillow. It smells like Yuta. You nuzzle into it further.
“Okay.. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.” He tells you with a chuckle.
“Wait.” You say before he can get to the door. He turns to you.
“Mwhere are you goin?” You mumble sleepily. His heart melts.
“Just to the living room. I’ll sleep on the couch so don’t worry, okay?”
“Come here.” You tell him bluntly and he does. When he gets to the bed you pat the spot next to you. His face flushes.
“What? You want me to sleep here??”
“Mhm.”
“With you?”
“Just lay down, Yu.. I wanna sleep.” You groan, too exhausted to be explaining or convincing. You just want him next to you.
And then he’s laying next to you.
This shouldn’t be awkward, you guys have napped together before. But that was a long time ago, and things feel different now. He’s so unsure of where to put his hands or how to position himself until you decide for him. You reach out and pull yourself into him, arms wrapping around him and legs tangling. He naturally just curls around you all the same, feeling your breath on his chest as you easily lull into sleep like this. It’s a bit hard to think about anything but how soft and warm you are for a little while, hot and flustered from how intimate this feels and scared to mess it up. But, he does feel more comfortable after. How could he not? The way you sleep so peacefully in his arms sends him off to sleep not long after you.
The morning after that night is the start of his guilty conscience.
When he wakes up sporting a full hard-on, he’s incredibly glad you’re not in a position to have noticed it. He had the craziest dream about you, and waking up face to face to you afterwards could not make him feel anymore mortified and embarrassed. How could he? Have a wet dream about you when you’re sleeping RIGHT next to him.
And the thoughts he’s having about you right now as he watches you so innocently sleep, blissfully unaware to his thoughts.
It’s horrible.
It’s exciting. No, it’s perverted.
Even with all his self control in previous years, you can’t really control what you dream about, can you? Sure, he’s had dreams like these about you before. But he’s read on the internet that people have wet dreams about random people too, people they’ve never even considered like that! So he doesn’t count it.
But it’s when he’s sliding out of bed to take care of things in the bathroom, trying to relieve himself to anything but the thought of you. He just can’t think of anything else good enough. He wants to think about you so bad. The way you were all over him last night, so many opportunities where he could’ve told you how he feels. He could’ve told you want he wanted from you so badly instead of denying it.
When he was tipsy, body pressed against you and music pumping in his ears. His face tucked into your neck, breathing in your scent clearer than anything and feeling your hands stretched around his back. He even could’ve told you then, that he loved you. How badly he wanted you in that moment too, his desires bubbling up so bad that he could practically beg for you. And maybe you would’ve at least humored him, giggled at his drunken daze and been so gracious as to grant him more of you.
Or what would’ve happened if he had let you do what you wanted? In that bedroom, alone just the two of you, with you in his lap. Would you really have stopped after one kiss?
And then snippets from his dream start to cross his mind. You in the same dress last night that he tried so incredibly hard not to think about too much, how it hugged every curve of your body and made your breasts look so nice. And in that dream, the dirty things you said to him between kisses on his neck while you stroked his length.
“Does that feel good, Yu? You wanna cum for me?”
“Yes.. ffucyes..” He mumbles to himself as his pace gets faster. Somehow it ended up like this, not sure when he even started to touch himself, but far past the headspace to care. He feels his climax already, the thought of you making him so unbelievably excited.
In his mind you’re on top of him, bouncing on his cock in all your glory in that beautiful dress that you love. And he could admire anything else right now but all he wants to see is the look on your face. He wants to see how good he can make you feel, not holding back anything at all.
“Fuck, Yu… That feels so good.. I love you..” You’d whine for him and he can feel his pleasure spilling over.
“Y/n… godfuck.. I love you, I love you.” He chants to himself as quietly as he can manage as his hips start to jerk up and stutter. His climax hits and normally he’d be ready to catch his load in his hands, but it rips through him so urgently and suddenly that it manages to catch him offguard.
He stares at the scene in front of him, the mess he made. His breathing is shaky and uneven. His heartbeat doesn’t slow as he starts to realize what he just did. He just jerked off thinking about you, shamelessly, while you’re literally a room away. How could he? What would you think of him if you found out about this? You’d probably think he’s a huge pervert and never talk to him again, right?
You always understood him, but this is unforgivable.
The guilt eats him alive, even after he’s cleaned up and started making breakfast. Trying to distract himself with tasks and chores, he can’t even bring himself to go back to his room and face you as he keeps thinking about the awful thoughts his mind willingly conjured about you. There’s no excuse now. And even in his guilt, he can’t stop thinking about how good that felt. He’s never felt that good thinking or looking at anything else when pleasuring himself. This is bad. He could get addicted to this. He wants to do it again right now, actually. Is that horrible?
“Yu?” Your voice startles him so bad that he jumps, almost throwing the frying pan in his hold. He turns to see your still fogged-with-sleep self standing before him. You’re still in that dress.
“H-hey. You’re up! I’m… making breakfast. Are you hungry?” He says, nervous for some reason. Like you’d be able to tell immediately just by looking at him what he’s done, smell the pervertedness and deceit on him.
“Mm.. That sounds nice.” You just smile and then let out a small yawn. You’re so adorable. What has he done? “I’m gonna shower first, is that okay?”
Another wave of anxiety rushes through him as he starts to overthink whether or not he cleaned up enough in there. Which is dumb, because he literally scrubbed any evidence possible off the floor with diligence. But maybe you’d find something anyways.
“Oh.. um.. yeah, go ahead. You know I don’t mind.” He says after maybe a little too long of a pause.
He waits for you to come out again with breakfast laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He mindlessly scrolls on his phone to keep his thoughts busy with something, anything else.
When you step out again, you’re wearing one of his t-shirts he almost never wears and seemingly his boxers as well, though he can’t see them very well from how far the shirt falls. He has to act like he’s reading something very interesting on his phone to avoid looking at you, his face blushing. This should be just a regular morning for you two and yet why does it feel like like you just-
“Fuck, I needed that shower! I feel so much better” You tell him as you take a seat by his side.
He smiles, putting his phone down now.
“I’m glad.” He watches you sip down some of the water in front of you, eyes shamefully trained on your lips. “And.. how are you feeling?”
“I feel fine! Don’t worry. I think I probably puked up all the alcohol in my system last night. If anything I’m just hungry. And thirsty.” You tell him as you poke your fork into a piece of pancake on your plate, and then catching yourself.  “Oh. Sorry, that’s kinda gross to say right before we eat. Thank you for the food by the way.”
You look at him and smile so sweetly that it makes Yuta forget about all the thoughts plaguing him for a moment. He laughs at your words.
“You’re welcome. But you should eat as much as you can before the other two get out here and devour it all.”  He jokes and starts eating as well. You let out a small laugh and nod in agreement.
“You’re right, I forgot they live here.”You say and you’re only half kidding. “That’s why you made so much, huh? I got worried you were expecting me to finish this, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Yuta laughs and shakes his head, taking another forkful of eggs. After that the conversation kinda dies as the two of you just enjoy your delicious breakfast.
A few minutes of silence go by before he decides to speak up.
“So.. do you remember much about last night?” He asks you and you turn to him with a curious look. “I know that sometimes if you drink too much it can affect your memory.. so I was just wondering.”
He knows he’s probably blushing a bit now. There’s a real reason why he’s asking you, right?
“Oh. Well, yeah I’m pretty sure I remember most of it. Some of it is maybe a little foggy.” You tell him after thinking for a moment. When you look at him again, he’s staring at you. You laugh a little.
“If you’re wondering if I remember the almost-fight and all that, I definitely do. Though I kinda wish I didn’t.” You joke, but not really kidding. Deep down you are a little mortified about what you did. Moreso with Yuta than with that girl, but still even then you only caused that scene because of your jealousy over Yuta. Does he know you like him that way now? Did you give yourself away?
“Ah.. I see.” He says awkwardly and your guilt pangs in you.
“Yuta.. I’m really sorry about last night.” You say finally and he looks at you kinda surprised. “I mean I did a lot of embarrassing things that weren’t too bad, could just be written off as those funny things I did at my first party, yknow? But..”
You play with the food on your plate a little, not quite able to look at him.
“But I did something really not okay with you. I.. I was forcing myself on you and you were clearly uncomfortable, right? I don’t even know what I was thinking.. I would never..” You start to apologize, but kind of struggle with how to put it. How can you even explain yourself for something like that? Isn’t it obvious?
“Hey, it’s okay.” He says gently, putting your nerves to rest with just one phrase as he puts his warm hand on yours. You look over at him to see him smiling fondly. How can he forgive you so easily?
“It wasn’t like that. I know you weren’t in the right headspace. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t.. do something you’d regret, yknow?” He explains like youre sure he said to you similarly last night. You ended up being regretful anyways, but you suppose this is best case scenario. You cant imagine if you had kept forcing yourself on him then, probably ruining your relationship forever. You’re thankful that your best friend is as sweet and forgiving as he is.
“Thank you.. I still think it was wrong though. I’ll make it up to you.” You promise him and go back to eating.
You don’t bring up the kiss at all. Even though you remember exactly what he told you last night.
“If you wake up tomorrow, when you’re sober, and you still want that first kiss.. I’ll do it.”
You believe him. You know he would, and it scares you. It scares you because you know you might not be able to control yourself if you open that door. Anything could happen after. You’re scared.
Yuta doesn’t bring it up for the same reason. And he doesn’t ask you about your reasonings or motives for why you did what you did that night either. Like why seeing some other girl almost kiss him made you so angry that you offered to take his first instead. No, even though his mind yearned for answers, he was also too scared to look for them. Afraid of what he might find or what trap he might set off.
So, neither of you bring it up. You act like it was all meaningless. Just drunk nonsense with no actual motive behind it.
But even so, that night ends up changing your relationship forever.
196 notes · View notes
thefrogdalorian · 3 months
Text
Ner Aliit
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
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Summary: Travelling through the galaxy in the Razor Crest with a formidable Mandalorian is a harsh, unforgiving life. The feelings you have developed for him as you soar through the stars together have mitigated the unpleasant aspects. Still, you know it can't last. After all, you and Din are from different worlds. He follows a strict Creed and you know that you do not have what it takes to be Mandalorian.
Journeying with the best bounty hunter in the parsec has often brought you face to face with danger. It has never fazed you before. Until one day you come face to face with danger without Din's reassuring presence at your side, and everything changes.
Word Count: 5.4k ✯ Rating:  Teen ✯ Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, reader kills someone with a blaster in self defence (Nothing is described in graphic detail) and subsequently deals with anxiety/panic attacks.  ✯ Author's Note: Today is four years since I watched Mando for the first time so I wrote this to celebrate! Inspired by a little daydream I had while looking at my own Mythosaur necklace. It's an AU where Din never had Grogu but still had shiny beskar, allow it ahah. Really hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading! 🤍
✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯
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You can already tell from how Din’s footsteps thud a little heavier than usual against the ramp that something has angered him during his latest hunt. Perhaps he will share what precisely has troubled him later when you hurtle through hyperspace towards Nevarro. For now, you head towards the door, ready to help Din haul his latest bounty into the antiquated ship you call home.
Except, the man who stands before you is not Din Djarin.
Instead of the gleaming beskar you had been expecting to greet you on the ramp, a gloomy silhouette moves into view. There is something far darker about your presence than the man you had expected to see. It is not just the grimy, worn clothes he wears that send a shiver down your spine. Nor the way his beady eyes bore into you. They are sunken in his wizened face with a look of pure malice which sickens you to the pit of your stomach.
You are initially so shocked by the fact that the man standing before you is not Din, your eyes frantically examining the features of this stranger, that you almost fail to notice the weapon aimed at you.
Your heart skips a beat when you notice that the man is holding a blaster up at you. He stands unmoving, with his long, grungy fingers curled around the dark handle. The gesture sends a shiver down your spine. However, there is something even more terrifying than the reality of having a blaster aimed squarely in your direction. 
It is the expression on his face.
His glare is unrelenting in his coldness as his finger hovers over the trigger. You do not doubt for one moment that he will pull it.
Throughout your life, you have been exposed to danger many times, even before you met Din. Such brushes with death only increased when you started travelling through the galaxy with a bounty hunter. It was to be expected, of course. You think of the numerous occasions when you witnessed Din becoming embroiled in terrible binds and scrapes while you sat back and watched the carnage unfold. At first, you had been terrified by such violence. Now, you have come to expect it.
Perhaps before you met Din and began travelling with him, someone holding a blaster at you and gazing at you with such viciousness as the man before you would have been utterly petrifying.
However, it seems that the best bounty hunter in the parsec has somewhat hardened you to the realities of the galaxy. 
After the initial shock, you feel yourself accepting your current predicament with remarkable quickness. You assess the man's vulnerabilities and weak points, as Din once trained you to do. You notice a slight quake in his hand, the greyness of his scraggly beard and unkempt, greasy hair. He is not invincible. Soon, the terror you initially felt is replaced with anger; a simmering feeling in your gut as you are incredulous at the audacity of this man to threaten your life in this manner. You are furious at his attempt to intrude into your and Din's safe refuge like this. You are disgusted by him.
You have encountered plenty of unsavoury characters throughout your travels across the galaxy with Din. This pathetic coward does not faze you.
"Where is he?" the man finally speaks. His voice is gruff, his tone sharper than you imagined. It matches his wizened, wrinkly face, seemingly hardened by the decades of experience he undoubtedly possesses.
“Who?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
You know that the man will not buy your plea of ignorance regarding The Mandalorian. Yet, your act will buy you a few precious seconds to execute your plan. Plus, the more you converse with the man, the higher the chance his nerve may waver and that his sympathy for you might increase as you humanise yourself. You hope that by talking to him, his determination to mow you down in cold blood may decrease.
“Don’t play with me and give me a story full of bantha crap,” the man snarls, jabbing the blaster towards you, "I know you know where he is."
“I’m sorry,” you respond apologetically.
You know you must diffuse the situation and undo the damage you have caused with your blatant lies. Without hesitation, you raise your hands in a submissive gesture. Then, when the man does not take issue with a simple movement, you begin backing away from him. Fortunately, he lets you go. You can barely contain your grin as you know what you have in store for him.
Unknowingly, this man is playing right into your hands. 
This old rogue may have thought he could get the upper hand on The Mandalorian by returning to his ship and threatening his travelling companion. Unfortunately, he has underestimated the advantage you gain from knowing the Razor Crest inside out, including all of this old ship's quirks.
When you are satisfied both by the distance you have placed between you and your assailant and your relative proximity to the control panel, which is the key to your plan's success, you fake a stumble backwards. Your hand collides with the button that, when depressed, rapidly releases a cloud of pressurised gas into the hull. The jets that shoot out of the walls soon fill the Razor Crest and form a temporary barrier between you and the man that obscures you from his view. The distraction gives you just enough time to grab a blaster from Din’s workbench and aim it towards your surprise visitor. 
Then, without really consciously thinking about the consequences, you squeeze the trigger.
The sickening thud of the man’s body hitting the floor is the last sound you hear before you retreat up the ladder to the cockpit and seal yourself inside behind the secure door. You are pretty sure he will no longer prove a threat to you, but you have no desire to stick around and find out for definite. The reinforced door will provide sufficient protection, hopefully long enough for Din to return. 
Given that someone managed to reach the Razor Crest and callously threaten your life, you cannot imagine that Din will be far away. If the man has accomplices, you do not doubt Din's capability to take them out before he returns to ensure your safety.
Yet, as the minutes pass by Din is nowhere to be seen.
You are unsure how long you sit on the hard floor with your back to the door, trembling as you sit there. At first, the tremors that have overtaken your body may well be thanks to the frigid metal. Its coolness certainly does not help. As the adrenaline wears off and the realisation of what has just transpired dawns on you, you rapidly become reduced to a jittery, trembling wreck. 
Your state of mind following the skirmish is made worse by the paranoia which overtakes you. 
Initially your primary concern is for your own safety. You brace yourself for the companions of the man whose body lies below you to barge in and finish the job their ringleader started. You wonder which weapons they may possess. 
Would you try to fight them off, or should you flee?
You wonder whether you could even begin the launch sequence of the Razor Crest and fly away in search of Din. He has attempted to teach you how to fly the ship for emergencies such as this, but to your presently terrified brain, the dashboard looks like a confusing conundrum of buttons.
At the first thought of him wandering through the forests which cover the planet’s surface, your overactive imagination now runs away with the worst scenarios of what could be happening right this instant, elsewhere on this planet. 
Visions of the Mandalorian you love, lying in a ditch somewhere on this forest-covered planet, injured and frightened after being ambushed by the same band of dastardly scoundrels overwhelm your senses.
The fear that Din will never return to you, that the depth of your feelings towards him will remain unsaid forever, shatters you. 
You are unsure how long you sit there. Each creak and noise of the ship, noises that you are usually so familiar with and accustomed to now work against you, startling you each time. It is a constant cycle of alarm as your breathing rate picks up and your pulse rate thunders in your ears each time there is a faint thud. You feel your resolve draining with each disturbance.
So when you hear the sound of the Razor Crest's ramp whirring as it lowers to the ground, you barely have the energy to react. Instead, you are relieved that you are now seconds away from meeting your ultimate fate. One way or another, you will finally be put out of your misery. Whoever enters the Razor Crest will not be met with much fight from you, whatever their intentions.
When you hear footsteps this time, you believe that the thuds are indeed the familiar rhythmic, certain sounds of your favourite bounty hunter. Until you lay eyes upon him, however, you will not allow yourself to believe that fact.
Fortunately for your anguished soul, you get confirmation of Din’s return before ever laying eyes upon him. 
“Cyare?” Din calls, his deep voice cuts through the ship up to the cockpit where you continue to cower in the cockpit, “Are you alright?”
You are so relieved to hear him that you could almost burst into tears. Before that happens, you must give him some acknowledgement that you were unharmed in the skirmish.
“I’m up here in the cockpit, Din,” you respond, alarmed at how your voice trembles as the adrenaline has worn off, “I’m alright.”
You push yourself up on shaky limbs to stand and prepare to reunite with the man you have grown so close to. You aren't entirely sure when it happened, falling in love with Din. You certainly never intended it, nor did you imagine that the aloof bounty hunter who was so stoic and barely spoke could reveal himself to have such a beautiful soul beneath his cold, metallic armour. Yet, somewhere along the way, as you hurtled through hyperspace together, you did fall in love with Din. 
It was not one moment but rather a collection of smaller fragments which, when pieced together, form the warmth that spreads in your chest each time you think of Din. It has been the late-night conversations sitting in the red leather chairs of the cockpit, reminiscing on your past lives. The ability that Din possesses in never failing to make you laugh. Even on days when you feel despondent. It is how considerate Din is of you; he never fails to check on your well-being and ascertain whether you can handle one more job or whether you should return to Nevarro for a few days of rest.
All of those moments and more contributed to your present feelings for Din.
You realised how deeply you cared for him when you first noticed your overwhelming desire to please him. The fact that, without even realising it, you had learnt how he liked his ration packs prepared even if you could never enjoy a meal together, given the helmet restriction. You realised that you had attentively watched how Din polished his weapons and studied how he stored them so that you could alleviate some stress when he returned from another hunt and needed to rest. You have noticed that, even though your lives are in many ways different, you both retain the same core values and principles. Honesty, integrity and loyalty are traits you both hold dear.
Only moments ago, it had crushed you to think you would never get to enjoy such moments with Din again.
Now, you stand here, practically bursting with joy as you realise you will soon be back with the man whose presence you yearn to always be in. You can hear his feet hitting the rungs of the ladder that leads up to the cockpit and take a deep breath to steady yourself, even though your entire body quivers with the last dregs of adrenaline and the anticipation of seeing Din again.
The door opens. The familiar glint of the Beskar you had been expecting to see earlier finally comes into view, soothing your nerves instantly. Din surges towards you. You barely have time to react before his arms are around you. He brings a gloved hand up to your chin, holding your face in one hand while he secures his other arm snugly around your waist. You are grateful that he is holding you so tightly. Without his strong arms, you are unconvinced whether you could remain vertical. 
“Oh, cyare," Din exhales, his voice trembling under the weight of his emotions. "I was so worried when I saw the body down there. What in Maker’s name happened here?” Din asks, deep voice full of concern.
“I heard footsteps that I assumed were yours, but when I got there, the door opened. You weren't there, Din. I was so scared," you confess, your voice trembling too.
"Dank farrik!" Din harshly exclaims. You startle in response, and he tightens his hold around you, bringing your chest flush to the cold metal of his armour, before apologetically adding, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay, Din," you whisper in reassurance.
"Forgive me for my outburst. I was just frustrated that I couldn't be there for you. The same group, I assume, ambushed me. It took me a while to fight them off. I should have been here," Din shakes his head, "Anyway, do you want to tell me about what happened?"
You nod, your bottom lip trembling. You take some breaths to steady your nerves as you try your best to ignore your reflection in Din's helmet. If you pause for too long and perceive how fragile and broken you appear, you know you will crumble entirely.
"Well, I stepped up to the top of the ramp expecting to see you. Instead, that man was standing there. He held a blaster up at me. I was so scared that he was going to shoot," you squeak, voice barely above a whisper now. Din moves his hands up and down your back in soothing motions, comforting you enough to continue: "I managed to distract him enough to retreat with my hands up. Then I pretended to stumble and push the button on the control panel, which discharged the pressurised gas. It gave me the cover to grab your blaster on the workbench. And then, well, you saw...” you squeak out as you feel hot tears trail down your cheeks.
You permit yourself to fall apart now, knowing that Din is here to pick your pieces up and place you back together. He brings a hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers. A smile ghosts across your lips at the sensation of the buttery texture against your skin.
“You did so well, cyare,” Din whispers. "I promise you, you're safe now. No one will hurt you," he adds soothingly.
Din brings your head into his cowl. He gathers you to him and protects you from the anguish. From this position, you can faintly feel the warmth which emanates from the man beneath the beskar through the coarse yet soft material. The dark brown material is a sharp contrast to the hard, coldness of his armour, a sliver of humanity amongst the many facets of the formidable Mandalorian warrior. You never feel safer or more protected than when Din takes you into his arms and holds you close. The relief is immediate, but it does not stop the emotional outburst. Tears continue to stream down your face.
“I was so scared Din,” you manage out between the sobs that have suddenly overwhelmed your fragile state of mind.
“I know, I know. But I’m so proud of you,” Din says.
His ordinarily steady voice trembles with emotion except when he emphasises how proud he is of you. To know that Din Djarin himself is proud of you makes your chest ache with joy. You have made this strong, stoic warrior proud. It makes your head swim with glee. Yet, it only adds to the myriad of emotions which overwhelm your trembling body.
Din holds you close, but you cannot stop crying. The embarrassment you feel at your outburst further contributes to your distress. The tears flow in earnest now, Din’s cowl surely becoming damp with the moisture that has escaped your swollen, irritated eyes.
“Shhhhh my love, ner kar'ta,” Din soothes as he rocks you, “You’re safe now. I've got you. You’re safe.” 
With his comforting words and the way Din holds you, your sniffles eventually subside. Still, Din holds you until you can barely stand anymore.
When you can stand no longer, when your body finally succumbs to the emotional toll of the day, Din is there to coax you into moving. Somehow, 
Din manages to skillfully manoeuvre you into descending the ladder. You are too tired to question quite how it happens. The next thing you know, you are tucked up in the bunk. There is barely enough room for Din, yet he manages to lie beside you, holding you until you drift off.
Finally, you allow yourself to fall into the warm embrace of sleep…
✯✯✯
You remain confined to your bunk for most of the return trip to Nevarro. The skirmish took its toll on you. In your lethargicness, you struggle to have the energy to do anything other than sleep. Din is patient and attentive with you, taking care of all the maintenance jobs and meal preparation that you usually assist with.
Yet, it is not just the stress of events and the inescapable fact that you have claimed your first life which weighs on your mind. It is trying to figure out what the future looks like for you and Din. 
You have never met anyone like him. He is intelligent, caring and skilled in anything he turns his hand to. He provides for you. Since you began travelling together, you have wanted for nothing physically or spiritually. Din is diligent and attentive, always on hand to pick you up if things prove too much. He makes you laugh like you never have with anyone else you have met. Until your ribs ache and your cheeks hurt from grinning. You think of the hours spent together sitting in the red chairs of the cockpit as the blues and silvers of hyperspace streak outside the windows, illuminating Din's armour in a way that leaves you mesmerised.
When you first started travelling with Din, you were sceptical that you would ever grow close to a man who kept so much of himself a mystery. His face was hidden behind a helmet and you knew him only as Mando. How could you ever form a bond with someone so elusive?
Now, you understand that you do not need to see a person's face to know them entirely. There is no doubt that you completely understand who the man underneath the beskar is. You trust Din Djarin with everything you have. 
Although it took him long enough to honour you with knowing that name, now you speak it often. While he vows that he will know yours eternally, for it is the Mandalorian way to say, “I love you.”
You cannot imagine your life without him. 
However, as much as you care for Din and are certain he cares for you in return, you know you will never have what it takes to become Mandalorian. It is why you have held back from your feelings, never permitting yourself to return the sweet words and affectionate nicknames. Your destinies lie in opposite directions. You will never be truly worthy of his love.
It is a thought that leaves you thoroughly despondent as you lie in the bunk. If you are this distressed after taking a life in self-defence, how would you ever be able to participate in his culture, his identity, which is so dear to him?
Without that fighting spirit within you, you are sure you would never be able to be Mandalorian. Without being Mandalorian, it will be impossible for Din to build a life with you.
Whatever relationship the two of you have is more than likely fleeting. You will part when it becomes apparent that you are too fundamentally different to prove a compatible pairing. You know that. 
Yet, it does not stop the melancholia that such a fact provokes in you.
You understand that one day, Din Djarin will leave your life.
Knowing that evidence of your fundamentally opposing ways of life will become evident once more shortly leaves you inconsolable. Once the Razor Crest lands in Nevarro so the bounties can be offloaded Din will leave you alone for an indeterminate amount of time to be with his covert. 
Since you are not Mandalorian, you are forbidden from joining him. 
The thought of not being with him devastates you. Yet, the prospect of being alone on a planet without Din downright terrifies you after your brush with death.
Although you are frightened, you are determined not to let him see your discomfort. 
After all, it would be unfair of you to hold Din back from spending time with his tribe.
You know you will never be able to join him, yet you still respect Din's creed. You admire his devotion to his Way. You do not judge him for it, even if you are baffled by some rules Din must adhere to.
Yet, there is another reason you keep your emotions to yourself. 
You do not want to worry Din any further.
Following your brush with death, Din has been fussing over you so much that you almost feel smothered. He is watching you intently to check that the fact you have taken another’s life does not leave a scar on you. He constantly reassures you that it was self-defence and that you did the right thing. When you wake up screaming after terrible visions haunt you, Din is there in an instant to soothe your anguished soul.
Even though you are grateful for how much he cares, you want to be left alone. You feel guilty, as though you are a burden to him. Here you are, taking up so much of his precious time and energy when you are not even a member of his tribe. 
So, when Din informs you he will depart the Razor Crest to join up with his covert after the old ship finally touches down on Nevarro, you are glad to see him go.
Even if being on such a skughole makes you unsettled. You wish that you had Din’s comforting presence around to soothe your soul. But non-Mandalorians are not permitted to enter the covert’s hideout, and you respect that rule. 
So, you are alone. 
You pass the time polishing and reordering Din's assortment of weapons so they are exactly how he likes him upon his return. It is penance for the tremendous amount of extra effort he exerted in taking care of you during your journey here.
After you finish cleaning Din's most prized possessions, you stand before the weapons locker, adjusting each blaster and rifle until they are arrow straight. Din is fastidious when it comes to organising his armoury. You want to please him.
It is a task that you are still engaged in when you hear the ramp whirring. The noise makes you panic initially. Until, for your benefit, Din calls your name to reassure you that it is him returning; no one is here to harm you.
Your initial anxiety is soothed instantly by the sound of his deep voice. The apprehension is replaced by a smile at the way the syllables of your name warble through his vocoder.
You hastily close the doors to the locker. You weren't quite finished with your task yet. You do not want Din to catch a glimpse before everything is perfect.
"You're back quicker than I expected," you observe, greeting him with a look of surprise across your features.
"There was only one matter I wished to settle," Din shrugs.
"Oh?" you raise your eyebrows, wondering if it is connected to the drawstring pouch made of dark material he carries in one hand.
"Concerning you," Din simply says.
You are rendered speechless. Your initial concern is that Din has confessed to travelling with a non-Mandalorian. Perhaps it is forbidden for his tribe to befriend outsiders. Your stomach drops as you panic that Din has been forced to leave his covert in disgrace.
What if, after the skirmish, Din decided to leave you behind here on Nevarro and simply needed to ask his tribe's leader for advice so his nerves did not waver?
Your frantic train of thought halts at the thuds of Din's footsteps approaching you. Mercifully, it seems you are about to discover the nature of their conversation.
"I have something for you," Din explains as he reaches into the drawstring pouch and produces a shiny object attached to a string.
You are curious about the mysterious relic before you. You do not hesitate to reach your hand out, your palm up, ready to accept it. It glints in mid-air before Din places it into your palm. 
The sensation of the cool metal of the mysterious object
proves to be an intriguing yet comforting presence in your hand. It soothes you instantly. It is a grounding sensation you badly need. Especially after the dark places your mind has wandered to. Terrible visions and eventualities your imagination has frequented a lot recently since your brush with death.
You realise now that it is in your hand that Din has brought you a necklace. Peculiar. You wonder what in the galaxy an item of jewellery could have to do with his covert.
The metallic pendant is a shape you do not recognise; there is a long, thin strand of dark brown leather attached to the charm.
“Do you know what this is?” Din finally asks after he has left you alone to survey your gift.
You shake your head, looking up at him questioningly.
“This is the Mythosaur, an ancient creature our ancestors once rode. It is a symbol that belongs to all Mandalorians,” Din explains, gesturing a gloved fingertip at the shiny object.
You see now that the metallic outline appears to be the skull of a creature you have never heard before. With its sunken black eye sockets and intimidating, sharp features; the Mythosaur is a little intimidating. Still, you are mesmerised by its pointy teeth and long tusks. It is quite unlike anything you have ever seen. You run your thumb over the ridges, enjoying the sensation of the metal in your hand.
"I had it forged by my tribe's Armorer from the excess beskar of my new armour," Din explains, "The chain is taken from a strip of my bandolier, too."
"The craftsmanship..." you whisper, awestruck, "It's beautiful."
Then, Din says something which catches you completely off-guard. 
“I want you to be part of my Clan, cyare,” Din announces.
Your mouth falls open. You look up at Din, stunned at his declaration. He does not want to leave you behind or cast you out. He wants you to be with him forever. You begin to feel the rumbling of tears somewhere deep inside your gut. You almost allow yourself to smile.
Almost.
Your moment of happiness shatters when you realise joining Din's Clan likely comes with an expectation to be Mandalorian. You hope the necklace does not come with the assumption of committing yourself to something you remain unsure that you want for yourself. 
Yet bringing that up to Din would surely disappoint him, a terrible prospect. His Way is of utmost importance to him.
“But, Din… I’m not Mandalorian,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears as you remind him of your differences.
“It doesn’t matter,” Din shakes his head.
"Are you sure?" you breathe, stunned.
"I'm positive, cyare. You can take this necklace to any Mandalorian and say my name. If you present this to a Mandalorian covert and tell them Din Djarin set you, they will ensure you are protected and safe for as long as you need. No matter where you are in the galaxy.”
“Even though I’m not Mandalorian?” you whisper, astonished. 
“Yes. One does not have to walk The Way in order to be protected by us," Din nods.
You are stunned. For so long, you had mistaken Mandalorian covertness for exclusion. You had believed they disliked and distrusted anyone who did not follow their way of life. Now you realise that you had entirely misconstrued their seclusion. Mandalorians, it transpires, are fiercely protective over anyone they care about, an honour not restricted to their own kind.
"After what happened, I want to feel reassured by knowing that you would have somewhere to turn to for refuge if something like that were ever to happen again. More than that, I want you…” Din sighs, steadying himself. “I want you to be part of my Clan,” he adds, his voice full of certainty.
“I couldn't possibly be worthy of such a thing,” you shake your head, unable to meet his gaze, "I shot one nerfherder in self-defence and look at the toll it took on me," you scoff, fiddling with the necklace and avoiding Din's gaze.
Din is unsatisfied with your words. He brings his hand to your chin and tilts it upwards until your eyes are level with the steely gaze of his dark T-visor.
“You are absolutely worthy,” Din adds with finality and certainty in his voice that causes your chest to constrict, “You have shown as much fight and resolve as any Mandalorian warrior would be proud of. You may not be Mandalorian, but you have our spirit. Our manda, our soul. You do not have to be Mandalorian to be loved by one. So, it would be the honour of my life if you would join my Clan, cyare,” Din adds solemnly.
He takes his hand from under your chin and balls it into a fist. Then he raises his clenched fist to his chestplate and holds it over his heart. He bows his head in your direction, wordlessly demonstrating his affection for you.
With his beautiful words and deferent actions, how could you refuse such an offer?
“Then, I will happily join your clan, Din Djarin,” you whisper.
You watch with curiosity as Din takes the necklace from your hand. Then, he softly places a gloved hand on your shoulder and gently turns you around. You realise what he is doing when the pendant slides down over your chest. You smile as you feel the cool metal make contact with your skin through the cloth of the simple clothes you wear. The thin leather is a comforting presence around your neck, especially when combined with the weight of the Mythosaur.
You turn around to face Din once again. You are unable to prevent the grin that spreads across your features. For the first time since that terrifying encounter with that ghastly man, you feel a true sense of tranquillity. You no longer find yourself plagued by fear for the future.
You realise that you should probably make some profound speech of gratitude. Instead, you sigh in contentment as you stand before Din. You are too happy to find words, perfectly content merely to stand before the man you adore. A man whom, thanks to the necklace you wear around your neck, you are now bound to. 
Din brings his hands to your sides, resting them against your body as his thumbs rub fond circles into your hips. There is no fear, no uncertainty anymore.
The future for you and Din is bright.
Din eventually sighs fondly, cupping your chin with his gloved hand.
“It suits you,” he nods in approval.
You smile at the gesture and turn your lips into his fingers, placing a kiss on the soft leather there. Then, Din brings your forehead to his helmet in a gesture he has assured you is akin to a kiss in his eyes. For now, at least, it is the only way he can kiss you.
You stay like that for a few moments. 
Eventually, Din's deep voice breaks the silence. 
“Ner aliit,” Din whispers. Then adds in basic, for the benefit of your ears:
“My family.”
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vmpiires · 3 months
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﹆₊ 乗車‧₊˚ RIDE IT LIKE A HARLEY, KAMO CHOSO
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ you should be heading to uni for class but your driver has other plans. wc, 1.76K. dark mode recommended.
␥ note. wrote this in advance despite the results of the poll ;) i just really wanted to write something and i was getting bored (i was also gettin agitated by the banner pic cuz i’m running out of the pics that look like the one on the previous post and idk if i like this one..) ANYWAYYYYY hope ya enjoyyy. reblog to support meeee
␥ tags. biker AU, smoking, smut, female anatomy, etc. lmk if i missed anything
␥ misc. masterlist AO3
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you grew increasingly anxious as you waited for your driver, your heart pounding in nervous anticipation at the thought of being late and having your professor give you a scolding. as if the situation wasn't bad enough already, the acrid smoke from the person behind you only further stirred up your sense of dread.
"ya look like a damsel in distress," the voice behind you said. you cautiously spun to see an imposing figure, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
your gaze fell upon the intricate tattoo displayed on his forearm, a symbol that you instantly recognized with a flicker of fear and awe. it was the insignia of the most notorious biker gang in japan, synonymous with power, rebellion, and danger. the black lines and bold design seemed to pulsate with a life of their own, drawing your eyes in and leaving you both captivated and wary.
"can give you a ride if ya want." he offered.
the words hung in the air for a moment before you finally replied, "i guess that's fine."
your grip on your bag tightening with tension. your tone was hesitant, unsure of what to make of the situation. the silence around you amplified the sound of your own breathing and the rustling of leaves in the wind. you could feel the weight of his words lingering between you, like a heavy fog that refused to dissipate. your heart raced as you tried to process the implications of his statement, unsure if everything would be okay or not.
his gaze roamed over you, taking in your appearance. you were the complete opposite of him; a sweet and cheerful girl who looked like she'd break if someone breathed on her wrong. the thought made him scowl.
still, there was something about you that he couldn't put his finger on. even though he knew your fear was palpable, he felt some sort of urge towards you. like you were a forbidden fruit that he shouldn't be touching, but desperately wanted to taste.
he watched you with a faint flicker of appreciation, taking in your frame. his gaze ran up your legs, appreciating how short the length of your skirt hugged your hips. you were a delicate flower. soft and easily manipulated, waiting to be plucked.
'damn, she's fine.'
"don't be all tense," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "i ain't gonna hurt you. just don't be all talkative. i'm not in the mood for small talk." he took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke, the faint scent of tobacco lingering in the air. your eyebrows furrowed at his words, unsure of what to make of this mysterious stranger who had just saved you from imperil.
but you knew you didn't have time to hesitate or argue. with a deep breath, you made your decision and strode over to the blood red harley parked nearby. the streetlights glinted off its shiny exterior, making it look like it was straight out of a magazine cover.
you climbed onto the black padded seat, adjusting your bag on your shoulders as you rolled your shoulders to get comfortable. the engine roared to life beneath you, simply ready to get the day over with.
your driver started the engine which sounded rumbling and thunderous, the smell of fuel and oil from the vehicle lingering in the air. he gave a low whistle before peering behind him to look at you, his ponytail slinging over his shoulder.
"alright, we're going, so keep your arms tight around me if you don't wanna fly off." he warned with a bored expression, not bothering to give you any pleasantries whatsoever. "name's choso, by the way."
you eagerly nod your head and wrap your arms around the man's body, pulling yourself in close. his back is broad and strong, and you bury your face into his warmth, inhaling the intoxicating mix of cologne and cigarette smoke.
despite the thick leather jacket he wears, you can still feel the defined muscles of his back beneath your fingertips. the scent of him fills your senses, adding to the overwhelming desire that pulls you towards him.
choso could feel your frame snuggling up to him, which amused him. it reminded him of the times when he had his previous girlfriends wrap themselves around him while they rode. he was used to the feeling, but he didn't complain; it felt nice to have a woman against him, especially one with your frame. his grip on the bike handle tightened as he shifted speeds.
he turned his head, catching another glimpse of you behind him. "so what's your name, darlin'?" he asked in a soft, inviting tone. you couldn't help but feel drawn to him as you told him your name. he nodded, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips, followed by an acknowledging hum that made your heart skip a beat.
"mm...nice name for a pretty princess," choso's words lingered for a moment before an idea appeared in his mind. as the bike approached a red light, he'd look back behind him to look at you again. "what do you say we go somewhere else, hm? i know you're heading to class but what's wrong with being a lil late?"
choso's question caught you off guard, wondering why a man you barely knew had been asking you to go somewhere with him besides dropping you off to uni and driving off. but, you didn't understand why you even said yes to his query.
the entire time, you were so worried about your professor scolding you because you weren't on time for class yet here you were, making your way into this man's apartment and to his bedroom.
as you lay on the bed, choso's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake. his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip as they slowly made their way down to your thighs. you could feel his nails digging into your skin, leaving a slight sting that only added to the pleasure. with each passing moment, your body grew hotter and more responsive to his touch.
his voice whispered seductively in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "you know what would be cute?" he began, his breath tickling your sensitive skin. "you with your legs wrapped tightly around my waist, your hands grabbing at my hair, and your nails digging into my back… do you think you'd like that, baby? because i'm sure as hell gonna love it…"
with a gasp of anticipation, you nodded eagerly and pulled him closer. your heart raced as you awaited the ecstasy that was sure to come with choso's skilled touch and wickedly sweet words.
your feet danced lightly in the air as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure, despite the marks and bites left on your skin by choso. you managed to reach a shaky hand up to his head, pulling out the elastic band that held his jet black hair in a ponytail, causing it to fall down over his broad shoulders.
choso's smirk widened as he felt his hair come loose. He stopped his teasing and looked up at you, before deftly flipping both of you over so that you were now on top.
you sat there in confusion for a moment, unsure of what choso was trying to get you to do. you had never been intimate with anyone like this before. but as he placed his hands on your hips and gave you a mischievous look, lifting your skirt slightly to get another glimpse of your body, you understood.
"don't get all shy now," he chuckled lowly, assisting you in removing both his pants and boxers. "it's just like riding a bike…except this time, you'll be riding me." his words sent shivers down your spine as you straddled him, ready to take control.
choso pushed himself into your sopping wet core, his length surprising you as he attempted to bottom out. a low groan escaped his lips as he filled you, and you instinctively grabbed onto him for support.
"quit whining," he scolded, waving a dismissive hand. "you'll get used to it in a minute." he placed his hands on your hips once again, guiding your movements. "you go like this, okay? keep your eyes on me."
as he rocked your body, you let out a soft moan, trying your best to follow choso's instructions. But your gaze kept wandering away from him, unable to focus with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. sensing your distraction, choso moved one hand from your hips and placed it under your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"i'm right here," he murmured, locking eyes with you. "not over there." his intense gaze held yours, grounding you in the present moment.
choso's lips curled into a smirk as your full attention became fixated on him. the room echoed with the sounds of your moans and groans, mixing with the creaking of the bed frame and the wet slapping of skin against skin. your fingernails dug deeply into the soft flesh of his shoulders, urging him to push into you harder and faster.
as the intensity built, your breath hitched in your throat, matching the increasing pace of your movements against him. choso's strong arms pulled you closer, his grip on your hips becoming tighter as he matched your urgency. every thrust was met with a powerful response from your body, driving both of you closer to the edge of pleasure.
you both collapsed onto the bed, your bodies tangled together in a sweaty, orgasmic haze. you could feel choso's hot breath against your skin as you panted for air, your bodies still tingling from the intense release. slowly, his hands released you, his fingers trailing down your body before coming to rest at his sides. he let out a deep sigh and gave you a sly smile.
"next time," he said in a husky voice, "we'll see if you can handle it without my help." his words sent shivers down your spine and the smirk on his face only added to the thrill. "but for now, go clean up so you can make it to class. i think you can handle a quick scolding. being late ain’t gone hurt ya none."
you nodded, feeling both ecstatic and exhausted from the recent experience. as you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn't help but reminisce every moment in your mind, already counting down the minutes until you could be with choso again.
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⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.
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twst-drabbles · 5 months
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Soulmates AU: Idia
Summary: You were born with a run-on sentence for a soulmate mark on your arm, from wrist to shoulder. Now you finally met the man that utters these words by a trashcan.
(I was requested and wrote this long number. Over 4000 words all written within the span of four days. I wrote this for @twst-charity. Not gonna lie, pretty proud that I wrote this much in that span of time. Been a while since I could do that, though I did end up pulling a muscle in my neck. I hope this is a fun read. It's also on ao3 as well. Right here.)
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The writings you were born with were practically illegible at birth. The font was rather fancy, overly so, and the words circled around from your wrist to your shoulder so tightly that your family was convinced it was a giant birth mark and not the words of your soulmate.
But you grew and so did the spaces in those words. It was a pretty spiral, but as age continued to feed you wisdom, you felt that this position was deliberate. Because, as far as you knew, this first sentence could very well be the ramblings of someone going mad or already is. But first words are hardly something to build assumptions on, especially when it comes to the subject of your soulmate.
These words covering your arm are about a fictional character named Alexius von Tuveria en Ris. Well, at least you hope it’s fictional. It’s kind of a silly name to give to a kid. And also you’re not exactly up for having a soulmate that’s this, uh, verbose and opinionated about an actual person. You’ve been exposed to the deeper parts of the celebrity fan culture and you’re good with staying far away from it.
…Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick…
That was only part of the sentence on your arm. Your soulmate, where ever they are, they sure do talk a lot. Like, a whole lot. You tried repeating the sentence on your arm in just one breath and you had to practice a few years just to get it right. Strong lungs on that one, probably.
And a whole lot of unique factors to help narrow down the pool of who is and who isn’t your soulmate. Alexius von Tuveria en Ris is a pretty unique name by itself. But, the uniqueness of it did return disappointment, since searching online for a character with such a name yielded no results. You made it a habit to search at least once a week or so, just in case it was a series that has yet to exist.
You were also sort of relieved to find out that there was no royal family with a similar name. Though, that still didn’t rule out the possibility. For all you know, this could be a fake name someone chose for themselves.
Either way, this name will come to exist at some point, someone or something will be Alexius von Tuveria en Ris, and you’d have to make sure to be on top of that.
But, then you couldn’t, because suddenly you found yourself in a place called Night Raven College. One minute you were living your regular life, and the next you found duty after duty from your “oh so kind” headmage with a cat that doesn’t learn to listen when he should.
It was… an adjustment certainly. The grating egos of everyone here, the casual and not so casual use of magic that can and will kill you if it hits you in just the right way, and large restrictions on your finances rarely left you with more than a few complaints, but all you could do was grit your teeth and trudge on.
At least, despite all of these annoyances and difficulties, there are some silver linings to the found here. Magic itself was something of a marvel to witness, you won’t lie to yourself about that. You will never say it out loud for anyone to head though, because you know the minute you do, people like Grim will gloat and unintentionally belittle you with a, “Well, something as simple as that would look amazing to you, huh?”
And out of a need to never hear those words uttered by anyone, you decided to use one of your privileges to lock yourself in the computer lab. It’s after curfew, so most of the students not in remedial classes are at their dorms by now.
Next to you were a couple of spiral notebooks, the blue one opened and already filled to the brim with notes about basic magic mechanics. Sure, you can’t do a single lick of magic as far as you can tell, but you don’t want to make the blunder of relying on your preconceived notions of it.
Though, as with all studying, even on a subject as interesting as this, your brain starts to fuzz up and suddenly you can’t even retain the current paragraph. Your eyes kept skimming over the same words over and over. Finally, you huffed and slumped back in your chair, setting your pencil aside.
Though, before you decide to call it quits and rest for the night, you felt one more search would be interesting. You pushed up your sleeve until you found the name of Alexius von Tuveria en Ris on your forearm, and typed that into the blinking bar.
Hehe, the name looked a little funny in this cutesy font this search engine uses. You weren’t expecting anything honestly. You’ve already cut your losses with meeting your soulmate young. You’ve had cousins and other distant relatives that haven’t met their soulmates until they were in their seventies. Knowing how that bird-brained Crowley works, you’ll probably return back home when you’re at least in your forties. Or fifties.
He’s really taking his sweet-ass time, huh?
Either way, you pressed enter and stretched. Nothing to come of it and nothing to lose with this simple search, right? You’ve already been through the phase of obsessively searching every day back when you were younger and had too much time. At this point, it does no harm to search at least once. You mean, why not?
But, it was a hit. Several pages of hits. At the top of the pastel blue search engine was Alexius von Tuveria en Ris in all bold. In fact, from the title of the website, you’d say it was an entire site dedicated to this character.
Here it was. The very thing you’ve searching for, waiting for, was right in front of your eyes.
You didn’t say anything, you just clicked. Paragraphs and paragraphs of detailed information about this person–a fictional character–laid before you. You nearly ripped your sleeve up your arm as you scrolled down the page, looking between the screen and your skin as you confirmed that what you’re reading is correct and not just a huge coincidence that’s made to make fun of you for having hope.
The name matches, the background of isolating himself in his castle matches, the huge blow out after attempting to revive his Kingdom of Paradise matches. All of it matches your arm.
You let go of the mouse, eyes burning from staring at a white screen with black text for too long, and just sat. You stared up at the ceiling…
…and quietly seethed.
For months you’ve been wanting to go back home, and often in the middle of the night, you’d find yourself wishing you never got transported here in the first place. Some part of you buried deep was starting to believe that you would never go home, and if you knew that the option of exploring a magical place came with the consequence of never going home, you never would have taken it.
But now your arm and this screen was telling you that you had no choice but to come here. That it was destined, preordained. No matter how hard you fought, you were going to be whisked away.
It… it sucked, you will admit that.
But you sighed out all the doubts and breathed in realistic optimism. You came here one way, there has to be a way out. It happened once, so it’s logical that it would happen again.
And so, with a light stretching of your sore fingers and wrists, you clicked and read as much information you can. Absorbing the series that’s apparently been running for a good twenty years with a handful of remakes and one live action that flopped on its face.
Before you know it, it was way past the dead of night and encroaching on morning. You took a minute to stretched and rub at your strained eyes before packing everything up. You’re going to regret doing all this in the morning, when classes start, but what can you say? You like living in the moment.
You walked out, locked everything up with the keys Crowley entrusted you with, and started down the path towards your dorm. Sure, you do have permission to use the mirrors on campus, but you’re pretty sure you need someone with magic to be able to use the thing. Or you probably don’t, for all you know, but you’re not in the mood to test the theory.
You found yourself on a cross section at the road that served as a nice resting spot before heading to Sam’s shop. It had a couple of fancy black benches with gaudy gold legs, a fountain so large you’re glad you don’t have to clean it, and a lot of foliage for that beautiful view and clean air.
With all these sights nicely lit by the evenly spaced lamps to take in, instead your eyes settled on someone that chose to huddle by a trashcan. You heard crinkling and, at first, you thought this person was riffling through the trash. You got closer, and while you can’t say you were wrong, the only thing in this man’s hands was a poster.
Then, finally, you were within earshot.
“And just when I found the perfect poster, I find it in a trash can of all things, wrinkled up and thrown away because some ignorant idiot thought this was only worth as much as a piece of paper,”
Kind a rambler huh? Sounds like he’s having a bad day. Or night. Should probably just leave him alone.
Hold on a moment.
You pulled up your sleeve.
“Couldn’t have the decency to give this limited edition poster back for people like me, who truly appreciate the series, to own, but no of course not, it would be inconvenient, horrible that they would wrinkle the main character’s Kingdom of Paradise that he’s always dreamed of, Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick–AH there’s a tear because of course,”
You were twisting your arm this way and that, making very sure that this random man’s rant actually matched your words. You almost pulled a muscle as he continued, eyes and neck straining to read the words on your shoulders.
You lost your balance and caught yourself just as the man before you stopped his rant with a huff.
Before he could possibly start again, you walked right behind him and said, “So you’re the dude that inked up my arm.”
Ah, you didn’t really have any special words in mind, like a lot of your classmates back in your younger days. Yes, you’re buzzing a little with excitement, but you’re so tired and drained from another emotional high that you’re in a fog. Besides, you already confirmed that this person’s your soulmate, whatever pops out of your mouth will be just as unique.
“Eep!” A high little squeak of a yelp. The student–his jacket held Ignihyde designs on it–retreated his arms to his chest, like he’s ready to either lash out or curl into a ball.
He would’ve fell backwards if your legs didn’t stop his fall.
“Whoops,” you pushed him to his feet with a hand to his shoulder, “sorry about that. You okay?”
Only then did he finally turn. His hood fell from his face and unleashed an absolute bonfire of hair. A luminous bright blue that almost blinded you.
And suddenly, his hair turned an almost violent mix of pink and purple.
He blinked, then his eyes flickered from your face to his wrist, where your words are. The man opened his mouth but his voice didn’t scream so much as it whistled before dashed to the left. He sped crawled on all fours for a moment before finding his footing.
This man, whom you would eventually find out to be called Idia, ran away upon first meeting you, his soulmate.
You weren’t offended in the least. You can understand that being seen mumbling like a maniac by a trashcan isn’t the best way to be seen by your fated soulmate. So, with that in mind, you didn’t search out for him for about three days.
By day four, you got impatient and decided to hunt down for Idia since he has not even left a hint hint about wanting to meet you. A week would’ve been the original waiting time, but this college really takes a toll on you and you just want this done before you get dragged into another magical situation.
The first day, you waited by a classroom you knew Idia attended. Well, Idia’s tablet. Being a housewarden and not a regular student, it’s rather easy to stumble upon information about him. Egocentric students love to gossip when it’s framed to either make their dorm or themselves look better.
You saw a peek of a magical tablet and grabbed without hesitation.
“Ha?” You heard clicking and felt the tablet attempt to leave your hands. You turned it around and faced the built in camera.
“Hey,” you greeted as causally as you could, “Idia, right? Met you a few nights before–”
Another click, and suddenly your entire vision went white with a flash of light. You dropped the tablet.
By the time your eyes went back to normal, the tablet was gone and you were alone again.
“So, that’s how it going to be, huh?” You’ve had your fair share of runaways. In fact, your little group was mostly made of them, running away for one reason or another, like not wanting to go to class, or avoiding cleaning duties for a mess they’ve made. This was not a new situation for you.
If Idia thinks he can run away from you forever, he has another thing coming.
The next day, you found the tablet floating in the library. You got a ladder to grab it from the bottom, but you weren’t quiet enough when you climbed it. The tablet floated right past your fingertips and dashed out the door with a “Sorry!”
Well, at least he apologized. But you still want to talk!
Another day passes and you found the man physically just as you were about to walk out the classroom. He had a stack of papers in his hands, late assignments he had to turn in physically if he wanted a chance at passing apparently. He didn’t see you, so you retreated behind the door.
When you saw Idia’s figure pass by the door, you popped out and grabbed his shoulder.
“Idia,” you firmly said with a tightening grip on his frozen shoulder, “we need to talk.”
And you were meet with a tower of papers to the face and he was gone before you dug through the pile.
By that point, you were ready and willing to start dragging your other friends into the mix. You let this skittish soulmate of yours to run off the first few times because you didn’t want to stress him out too much. But, by this point in time, it would be better to throw caution to the wind if only so you two can actually sit down and have a talk.
But, by the next morning, before you could meet up with everyone, a robot kid you recognize as Ortho shot out of the sky and landed with surprising grace. At the price of leaves and dirt flooding your mouth.
“There you are!” His voice was loud but it wasn’t grating. It was a cute kind of loud, like he was happy to see you.
You spat on the ground and leaned against a tree, still groggy from waking up. “Ortho, right? Hello. You need something? I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“To make a plan to catch my big brother right?”
His accuracy left you stunned.
“Uh.”
“Then, please come with me!” Ortho grabbed your arm and enthusiastically, “I keep telling my brother to suck it up and meet you, but he just won’t!”
“I know that,” you gritted your teeth, feeling like your shoulder will pop out of its socket, “Mind telling me where you’re taking me though.”
“I’m taking you to–” Ortho paused, floated behind you and grabbed your shoulder, “Hold on, this will be faster. We’re going to Ignihyde!”
“Wha–?” But you were forced to eat your words, just when it was finally free of all dirt and leaves.
And before you know it, you were gently placed on your feet in front of the Ignihyde dorm.
“Huh.” If you delete the last few minutes from your mind, you’d say it was a pretty enjoyable ride. Quick, at least.
“So, future soulmate of my big brother,” You’re pretty sure he knows who you are, you’re not exactly a quiet presence with that monster fire cat always around, “I have to do other things, so you just have to go down these paths and you’ll be in front of his room! Just make sure he doesn’t run away, okay?”
Ortho even gave you a little note that straight up looked printed. A clear map of where Idia’s room is.
“Well, thanks,” you turned around to properly face him but Ortho was already blasting off into the sky with a wave.
You huffed out a laugh, just because the whole interaction was ridiculous, and went on your way. You don’t really have early morning classes to be late to, anyway. You just came early to prepare for chasing after Idia.
As much as you would like to take the time to admire the hallways of the Ignihyde dorm, you’re too eager to get this meeting over with.
And then you’re finally in front of Idia’s room. You reach out to knock but the door pulls open, as though avoiding your knuckles. Idia was there, hood over his head like he was going to sneak around again like the first time you’ve met him. He spotted you in a second and slammed the door right in your face.
You waited a few minutes just to see if some miracle would happen and Idia opens the door on his own.
He didn’t.
“I’m not moving from here, if you’re wondering.”
You heard a sharp gasp and then a heavy, shaky, defeated sigh.
“…of course you’re not…” And then heard the slide of fabric against the door before a soft thud at the bottom.
He sat down, and so you got yourself comfortable as well.
“So,” you leaned back on your hands, “you’ve been running away from me.”
“I have…” and then under his breath like he thought you wouldn’t hear, “…any normal person would give up but of course my soulmate would be more stubborn than that…”
You whistled and that caught his attention with a gasp.
“Hey, focus on me,” you knocked on the door for good measure, “Why were you running? That first meeting could not have been that embarrassing.”
“Says you,” his next words came out muffled, like he’s shrinking into his hoodie, “Of all the days to meet you, you just had to see me right next to a trash can like I was some kind of degenerate rat. Anyone would think I was a loser of a freak, stroking that wrinkled poster like that. Well, I’m not! Only true fans would love this series as much as I do. So if anything, you were probably seeing me at my best moment!”
“Huh.”
You can practically hear Idia deflate from behind the door. “’Huh?’ You say… Yeah yeah, think what you want, I can’t even begin to change it.”
You… have a doozy of a soulmate huh?
“Certainly didn’t help that you were flash banged me, almost made me fall down a ladder and threw papers in my face.”
Idia shrank further. “…sorry…”
“Hmm? What’s that?”
“Sorry!” It was a burst of a yell and you had to back up a bit, “I was terrified alright?! I mean, I played all sorts of scenarios and even made a game to prepare for this moment. I had all these scripts in my head and I thought I was ready to trigger the romance flag alright?! But instead, I was stuck in my own head and completely missed it! I messed up and I panicked! You have any idea how scary that is?! You weren’t supposed to see me like that! I was supposed to be at max level by the time I met you but instead, I’m just this unevolved mess!”
You opened your mouth but Idia cut in.
“Fate is inevitable, just as death is… I was going to met you regardless and I guess, I thought, that maybe I had more time. But I didn’t. So I just, wanted you to stay away until I thought I was going to be ready… Ha, either way, it’s my fault…”
…alright, how are you going to handle this? You’re not exactly the best when it comes to emotional comfort.
Well, may as well just use what you already have on hand. Or on arm.
“Didn’t Alexius von Tuveria en Ris think he was ready to rule his kingdom when he brought it back from the ashes?”
You heard a sputter. You continued.
“I mean, the dude was kind of young wasn’t he? Well, not like it matters, he brought it back and someone had to rule it whether he liked it or not.”
Then, you heard Idia actually honk. “No, that’s not what happened! Alexius von Tuveria en Ris wanted to bring back the Kingdom of Paradise not because he thought he was fit to rule it but because he thought it didn’t deserve that fate. It’s not his fault that he was put in that position when he brought it to life!”
Ah, there we go. Switching the subject, your best skill!
You egged him on. “But shouldn’t he have been prepared for that, then? The series did say that he likes to prepare for every thing imaginable because it was a kingdom he was reviving.”
“What the–that’s stupid! He can’t see the future! No matter how much he reads or writes, there’s no way he could’ve predicted that! And even if he did, it wouldn’t have mattered! He couldn’t have stopped the tragedy anyway!”
“Oh that’s right!” you clapped your hands, “Thanks for reminding me. Totally slipped my mind.”
“As long as you know. I hate it when people don’t pay attention.”
Huh, he sounds huffy. That’s cute.
“Sorry, it’s kind of hard to remember with all the stuff that happens in the latest Red Sky Arc, where Alexius just–”
You heard a hard slam against the door. “No spoilers! I haven’t gotten to that arc yet!”
You closed your mouth, almost biting your tongue in the process.
A few seconds, then a minute, and then you burst out laughing.
Idia, meanwhile, was stunned. “W-what? What did I do?”
“No no,” you relaxed, “that’s just the loudest you’ve been.”
“I… I guess that was a bit too loud.” The tone in his voice made him seem bashful. “But I’m seriously not at that part yet. I don’t want to get a head start just yet.”
“Alright, I’ll keep my mouth shut then.” You pushed yourself up and dusted your pants. “I think I’ll be taking my leave here. Don’t want to bother you too much. I just needed to hear an apology and an excuse.”
“Wait, what?”
You turned around, stuffing the map Ortho gave you into your pocket. “See you later, Idia.”
“Wait!” The door slammed open. You turned around.
Idia’s hair was pink at the tips, but at least he didn’t look like he was going to explode. He did look like he was going to collapse though. Poor man looked out of breath.
“I-I,” the pink began to climb upwards the longer he looked at you, “I, uh, I happen to have that season downloaded… on my PC… so if you want to, you know, update your out of date stuff then, maybe you could, you know… watch it with me?”
His head practically disappeared in his hoodie and hair, but you heard him clear enough.
You could tease him, but you don’t know each other well enough so…
You nodded, “Sure, I have time. A lot of time actually.”
That one is a bit of a lie, but you just want to spend time with Idia. You have a number of excuses on hand anyway. You’ll send one off right before settling down.
“Huh? Oh, uh” Idia moved to the side, holding the door like it’ll protect him from his feelings, “C-come in then.”
You stepped inside.
260 notes · View notes
ourfleur · 8 months
Text
「Who Do You Belong To?」 [Johnny Cage x Fem Reader]
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Summary: Being in a relationship with someone like Johnny Cage isn’t easy, especially when they have the same reputation he does, always so much attention always on you and your relationship. But maybe you can use that to your advantage, make them all know who this A-lister belongs to.
Tags: nsfw (basically just porn with a tiny plot lmao), semi public sex, au, dom&sub, switch reader, switch johnny, jealousy, possession, pet names (mostly baby)
An: hiii so this is my first time not only writing smut but also posting anything i write lol, i hope its not shit.. i pretty much only wrote this because i had this idea and no one had written anything like it so i wrote it myself.. anywaysss enjoy :3
follow my ao3
3 months. It had been only 3 months since you started dating the “infamous” Johnny Cage. 3 months and yet you were already more famous than 99% of the population would ever be.
You were still getting used to the fame, the constant cameras flashing in your face and the constant attention. You knew so many women would kill to be where you are, in the arms of Johnny, knowing that didn’t make life any easier. Constantly, new drama would stir up, rumours about you or your boyfriend breaking up or cheating on each other. But that… that was bearable. What wasn’t bearable was Johnny's co-star on his new movie. She wasn’t shy about wanting him and when the rumours started circulating of him ditching you for her she laughed it off and played stupid. “Oh really?”, she laughed, “I cannot confirm nor deny anything, it’s up to the fans imaginations.” That bitch made you livid.
This was supposed to be a relaxing day but you spent all of your time on Johnny's yacht reading the nasty and idiotic comments from the media. It was also extremely hard to relax considering the paparazzi was so close by, it seemed no matter where you went you could not escape them. But that revelation gave you an idea.
Getting up off the lawn chair you were lounging on, you pranced your way over to your boyfriend, who was occupied with writing his own movie. Taking the notebook out of his hands as you got on top of him. He was surprised at first but then smirked, eyeing the way your little body looked in that tiny bikini.
“Johnnyyyyy…” You whined while looking at him through half lidded eyes. Slowly, you grinded yourself on his clothed dick. “I need you right now.” You smiled, seeing the way his face contorted as you moved yourself across his lap. You leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I need everyone to understand who you belong to, so do me a favour and fuck me where they all can see.” You felt him hardening underneath you at your words. “Fuck, whatever you say baby.”
You leaned into each other, mouths crashing together in an aggressive kiss. Continuing to grind on each other while making out, only breaking to release some particularly intense whimpers. His large hands running all over your tiny body. Moving your hands down his chiselled abs, you reached the prize. Palming him through his shorts, which elicited the prettiest moans from his mouth.
Finally, you took his cock out, glistening with precum. You ran your delicate hand up and down his shaft, fingers tracing his pretty little veins and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. You raised yourself up, letting him pull your bottoms to the side. You aligned yourself with him and slowly sunk down, making you both moan. You looked out across the water, seeing the many cameras, all focused on you and him. You began moving, listening as he moaned out your name. The way his thick cock stretched you always took you over the edge. You grinded your pretty pussy on him, over and over, not even paying attention to the poor mess of a man beneath you, only staring out at the cameras. Making sure they caught every glimpse of the way you could so easily destroy this big-shot A lister.
“No one else can make you feel this way, right baby?” You purred. “Yes.. fuckkkkk baby yes only you.” You could feel him twitch inside of you while he spoke, he was close. You frowned, “Well that cunt you work with seems to think she owns you.” You pulled yourself off of him, watching him groan with annoyance, his orgasm being denied. “What the fuck? I was close.” Cursing out your name. “Well it’s no fun if we just sit here…” You said, getting off him and leading him to the edge of the boat, your body facing the paparazzi across the water. You bent down in front of him, putting on a show as you pulled down your bikini bottoms. As you did he felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your cunt. You turned back around and moved towards him, arms reaching to grab his hair, suddenly shoving him down on his knees. “Be a good boy and eat me out while your adoring fans watch, maybe then I will let you have what you want.” Your sultry tone doing indescribable things to him.
He started by slowly nibbling and biting at your thighs, hands wrapping around them with ease. You groaned, “Don’t tease me Johnny.” Eyes staring daggers down at him. “Whatever you say…” And with that, he dove right in. His tongue flicking and circling around your clit in ways that could only be described as heavenly. Your hands dug into his hair, shoving his face closer to your aching core. He then moved his mouth down, lapping like a dog at your slick, his nose lightly grazing over your clit, leaving so much more to be desired. Your moans were getting so loud at this point you wouldn't be surprised if everyone on the beach could hear you. “Fuck Johnny, I’m close, you’re doing so good… You look so good on your knees.” Your brain turning to mush as you babble random praises, your orgasm steadily approaching.
And when it hit you were a mess. Moaning out curses and his name, legs turning to jelly. The only thing to stop you from collapsing was his hands, which were glued to your hips. After you finally regained the ability to stand on your own Johnny stood up. Licking the left behind slick on his lips with his tongue. You were about to bark another command at him before he interrupted you. “Agh fuck this. I can't take this anymore.” You were about to question him before he grabbed you, turning you around so he can bend you over on the edge of the boat. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Im fucking tired of this, it’s my turn to ruin you, sound good baby?” His voice sent chills down your spine. You nodded, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He leaned back and soon you felt his cock between your thighs, gliding along your folds. Then, suddenly, the feeling was gone. You turned back to face johnny only to see him walking towards his chair. He grabbed his phone and then winked at you. “For safekeeping yknow?” He finally was back behind you, stroking himself a bit before finally easing himself into you. He groaned your name, taking you fully. You could hardly contain your whimpers when he started moving.
“You look so good on camera, fuck, you should star in one of my films.” He laughed, now moving at a pace all too slow. “I’ll only star in it if I get to fuck you in it.” You responded, releasing a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan. He took his free hand and moved it to your clit, rough fingers circling it at an insane pace. The combination of him pounding into you and hitting that special spot inside if you and him rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. With the way you were moaning and the way your cunt was tightening around his cock he could tell you were close. “You’re so beautiful when you’re whining around my cock.” He chuckled. “F-fuck.. Johnny please I'm so close.” You stuttered out. Suddenly he grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back into his chest. He held the phone out in front of the 2 of you while beginning a relentless pace. “Smile for the camera while you come undone babe. This is your glamour shot.” You could barely focus on what he was saying due to the pleasure that was shooting through your body. He moved his hand from your hair to your neck and squeezed a little. “I said smile.” His tone was stern and that was the last straw. The knot in your stomach snapped and you came, making sure to look into the camera and smile, per his request. Your moans were near pornographic as you shook from your orgasm, falling back onto the edge of the yacht. He pulled out of you and you couldn’t help notice, he still hadn’t cummed. You turned around and glanced down to his still-hard cock and then to his face.
“You gonna come over here and fix this or what?” He questioned, smirking while he spoke. “I guess it’s only fair… you have been so good to me today Johnny.” You turned, falling to your knees. Now eye level with his length. You moved your hands to it, gently stroking your boyfriends dick, trying to see what reactions and noises you could get to come out of his pretty face. You brought your mouth to his tip, doing short kitten licks to his slit. You moved your tongue all over his cock, licking and tenderly tracing every vein with your tongue. “Come on.. don’t punish me more than you already have..” He begged, looking down at you with those puppy dog eyes you just couldn’t resist. “Grab your phone Johnny, let’s see if that whore will understand who you belong to after this.” He was taken aback by your request but nonetheless complied. The moment he started recording you were ready to put on the performance of a lifetime.
Never taking your eyes off the camera, you stuffed his cock into your mouth. Johnny quietly whimpered at the feeling of you taking him in his mouth but before he could savour it, you pulled his dick out of your mouth with a ‘pop’. “Don’t try and quiet those moans Johnny, I need to make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He nodded and you eased your mouth back onto him. Johnny had never seen something more beautiful than you choking on his cock. The way your mouth worked had him sure he was in heaven. His breathing sped up and he grabbed your hair. “Fuck i’m so close, let me fuck this pretty face.” You nodded and he gripped your hair tighter. He was so rough, whimpering and crying out with pleasure while shoving his dick as far down your throat as he could. His thrusts started to become sloppy and before you knew it he was painting your throat white and releasing the hottest groans and praises. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and bent down to inspect his work. “You are so gorgeous, I can never get enough of seeing your little mouth filled with my cum.” He smiled, ending the video and throwing his phone to the side while you swallowed.
Safe to say that the internet was going wild for a few months after the paparazzi released those pictures… and safe to say that his stupid co-star didn’t do shit like that again.
311 notes · View notes
onas-batlle · 2 months
Text
like daylight (part 1/?)
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pairing: lucy bronze x ona batlle
warnings: none
synopsis: When you are both eighteen, anything your soulmate writes on their skin will be reflected on that of your own. Words in swirly, glowing, shimmering gold, these markings will link you forever to the one soul that is destined to intertwine with yours.
a/n: the soulmate au begins! this is kind of an intro chapter, so fair warning this first part will have a lot of keira x lucy (while they don't do anything romantic, they are in a relationship), and ona only makes one (brief) appearance. anyway, I hope the whole thing isn't super confusing, and ignore any mistakes lol.
Ao3 Link
When you are both eighteen, anything your soulmate writes on their skin will be reflected on that of your own. Words in swirly, glowing, shimmering gold, these markings will link you forever to the one soul that is destined to intertwine with yours.
It was the 27th of October, and Lucy lay stretched out on her bed on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, her mind a mess of thoughts as she grappled with the excitement of potentially being able to get in contact with her soulmate in only a few minutes.
11:57… 11:58…
She knew that it was probably going to be a girl; that realisation had already occurred and been faced head-on several years before that day, and she found that she was more concerned with whether or not her soulmate would also share her love of football than their gender identity.
She glanced at the clock again. 11:59. Lucy flopped her head back down onto her pillow and let out a groan at the slow-moving minutes, it almost seeming like the seconds were trapped in molasses. She hated to admit it, but Lucy had secretly been a romantic all her life and the idea that someone was out there in the world, crafted to fit with her exactly, was something that she had treasured forever.
12:00. Midnight.
As soon as the clock struck midnight, she eagerly grabbed a marker, pondering what her first message to her soulmate should be. She couldn't introduce herself by name - the magic didn’t allow that - so instead she tentatively wrote ‘Hi’, and waited for a response. When it didn’t come for an hour, she supposed that maybe her soulmate didn’t notice, or was busy.
When it had been a few months, she supposed that maybe her soulmate was a bit younger than her, and that was fine, she could wait.
Three, four, five, years passed and soon Lucy accepted that maybe she was just one of the unlucky ones who didn’t have a soulmate. Neither of her parents had lost hope, always having faith that one day her skin would be covered in words of gold, but after the third year ticked past, Lucy had resigned herself to the fact that there was no one written in the stars for her. Not that she cared for that fate stuff anyway, she often told herself.
So she fell into Keira. Keira, who was about as cynical as she was. Keira, who dismissed the soulmate stuff and said that they could write their own destiny. And Keira, whose hands were always covered in golden scrawls of unintelligible German. They loved each other as best as they could, anyway.
Lucy was twenty-five when a word showed up on her palm - bright and glowing gold. She kept it from Keira and hid in the bathroom to study it. It was a simple word - in Spanish, of course - Hola in loopy, curly writing. A small smiley face was dotted at the end of the word, and Lucy knew that it was for her.
So she did have a soulmate after all. One who was likely to be quite a bit younger than her, but a soulmate nonetheless.
Excitement flashed in her gut before she immediately felt guilty. Here she was, crouched in the bathroom, giddy with happiness, while her girlfriend was out in the lounge unassuming. Keira had chosen her despite knowing she had a soulmate of her own, so Lucy ignored the writing on her hand and exited the bathroom.
“You good?” Keira spoke, and Lucy just nodded, tucking her hand into her pocket. And if Keira noticed that she seemed a bit off for the next few days, she didn’t say anything.
A few more words came from her soulmate. A ‘cómo estuva tu día?’, and a ‘espero que estés bien!’ There was even some Catalan, which clued Lucy into the fact that her soulmate was from Catalonia, probably Barcelona. But as much as it pained her, Lucy ignored it all.
After that, Lucy’s soulmate didn’t write again.
A few months later, Lucy was in France. France which bordered Spain. Spain which was where her soulmate was from. She had always been drawn to Spain, even before finding out her soulmate was Spanish, but she urged herself to ignore it and just focus on football. She still had traces of gold - numbers and scrawled words, sometimes a sentence - but most of the time it was kept to a minimum.
She did know that her soulmate had tattoos though, several pieces having been marked into her skin for weeks until they faded, and several weeks where she was forced to wear long sleeve shirts to hide the swirling lines on her bicep that made up a map of the world.
She remembered one time when she awoke and went to take a shower, spotting yet another piece of inkwork. It was a lioness, glowing brightly on her shoulder blade, and Lucy had to choke back a laugh at the irony. She was unsure if her soulmate knew who she was, but their souls were intrinsically linked, so she shouldn’t really be surprised.
Keira eventually found out about Lucy’s soulmate, of course. She always knew when the fullback was keeping a secret, and it was stupid to assume that she could have kept something that big under wraps.
During one of the England camps, Lucy was walking to breakfast when someone suddenly caught her wrist and tugged her down a hallway, the English woman unable to stifle her small scream of surprise. When she finally got her bearings, she focused on Keira stood in front of her, a frown on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy questioned, blinking in confusion at Keira’s expression, the midfielder’s eyes boring into her, unimpressed. Keira just let out a sigh at her question and grabbed Lucy’s hand, turning it over so her palm was facing down, revealing the glittering gold words on the back of it.
“Why not,” Keira read out and dropped Lucy’s hand, who had the decency to look a little sheepish. “Don’t think you went out and wrote this in gold ink by yourself, did you?” the midfielder stated and levelled the fullback with a pointed look. Lucy opened her mouth to respond when Keira sighed again and uncrossed her arms.
“Luce, I’m not angry. I mean I have a soulmate too. I just wish that you would’ve told me.” 
“I’m sorry. I- I don’t really know why I hid it from you, because you told me about yours and it was fine. It was shitty of me,” Lucy responded, hanging head slightly. She never meant to hurt Keira, after all.
Keira graced her with a small smile and shook her head before waving her hand to dismiss Lucy’s words. “Well, at the end of the day, we picked each other, didn’t we?”
Lucy was relieved to hear those words, glad her moments of weakness had not ruined their relationship, and so they went on with their lives, mostly unchanged. There was always that niggling thought in the back of her mind though, the one that belonged to a hopeful little girl who wanted to find the one person that had been made especially for her. But she was not a little girl anymore, and she had Keira now, so Lucy shoved those traitorous thoughts aside and tried her best to focus on her current relationship. The one that she chose .
When was twenty-nine, Lucy found herself back in Manchester. The return was mostly for Keira - the distance having put a slight strain on their relationship, and truthfully, Lucy had felt a little bit homesick anyway.
She’d always enjoyed just simply watching football, and naturally, she loved to take notice of the skills of other players who played alongside and against her.
It was the Manchester Derby when she spotted her , the right back for the other team. She was small but quick and hurtled up the right wing with a passion that Lucy hadn’t seen in a long time. While United did lose the Derby, the unnamed player still marched up to all of the City players, jaw set, and offered them a handshake in thanks.
Something tugged in Lucy’s heart as the short woman made her way around all of Lucy’s teammates, and she watched on until she was standing directly in front of her. 
“Good game,” the player spoke, extending her hand in front of her and tilting her chin up to meet Lucy’s eyes. The English fullback, almost involuntarily,  dragged her eyes over the features of the other defender, drinking in the constellations of freckles that dotted across tanned skin, the shiny brown eyes that were filled with a fiery determination, and the full lips that were currently pressed into a firm line. 
“Oh!” Lucy exclaimed as she realised that had been looking for a bit too long and reached out to grasp the other woman’s hand. “You guys had a good game too!”
As their skin made contact, the English woman flinched momentarily as she swore she could feel sparks pass between them and mentally berated herself at the physical reaction. An odd look passed across the other woman’s face, and before Lucy could even blink, she was gone, but not before the City player caught a glimpse of something tattooed on the departing player’s right hand.
She stood, stock still in shock for a few minutes until Keira came up to her and tilted her head inquisitively, before leading Lucy off the pitch and down the tunnel. She enquired about the player afterwards (“sizing up the competition are we Bronzey?”), and she was told that her name was Ona Batlle and that she was from Spain. The mention of that country caused Lucy’s stomach to twist, and she told herself off for the hope that flickered in her stomach at the idea that she could have just met her soulmate.
When home, she opened her phone to look at Ona’s Instagram, just to figure out if the other woman had those tattoos that had shown up on her own skin for a short period, but one glance at Keira who was washing her hands in the kitchen had her closing the app. She couldn’t go there. It wouldn’t be fair.
The next couple of years passed rather uneventfully, in terms of her personal life anyway, but soon she found herself starting to feel the boredom again, Manchester City not really ticking all her boxes anymore. 
Lucy wanted to win, win something big like the UWCL, and City just wasn’t cutting it. When she got the offer from Barcelona her first instinct was to immediately agree, but she had to pause to weigh the decision that she was facing.
Firstly there was the thing about her soulmate. She hated that that was the first thing her mind went to, but she’d spent several years grappling with her relationship with Keira and with the potential person that was predestined for her, so moving to Spain - which could place her within meeting distance of her soulmate - could cause all sorts of problems. The second thing she had to consider was that she might have had to do long distance with Keira again, but that was quickly forgotten when the midfielder told her that Barcelona wanted her as well. 
After a few weeks of discussion, they decided to make the move to Barcelona.
Several months later, after an amazing Euros that left them Champions of Europe, Lucy and Keira packed up to go to Spain. All seemed to have been going well - they were winning their games, and they were settling in well, but over the weeks, the romance between them came to a grinding halt and they found their relationship evolving into something merely platonic. It only took a few more weeks until it all came to a head.
Lucy came home from the shops one day and saw Keira standing there, waiting for her with red-rimmed eyes and a sniffle. She didn’t even have time to reach out to ask what was wrong before Keira spoke, a distressed look painting her features.
“Lucy, I’m sorry.”
It was silent for a few beats, but Lucy knew what words Keira was about to follow up with before she even opened her mouth to speak them.
“I’ve met my soulmate.”
The words hung in the air, and for some reason, it was relieving. They had only really been glorified roommates the past few months, anyway, and suddenly a weight felt like it had been lifted off Lucy’s chest.
“I know that I said soulmates are bullshit and we can choose who we want to be with but..” Keira trailed off and bit her lip. “Her name is Laura, and she’s lovely, and Lucy I think I would hate myself if I didn’t even try.”
“We haven’t done anything, by the way. I would never. It wouldn’t be fair to you. Even if we haven’t really been all that romantic lately, I wouldn’t betray you like that,” Keira rushed to get out, eyes beginning to fill with tears. 
Lucy offered her a small smile. “Keira, it’s okay. Honest.”
They parted ways amicably, and while she did feel a bit sad that she no longer had a companion to spend her time with, she was okay. And when Keira posted a photo of her and Laura to her close friends’ story, Lucy was the first to like it.
A few more weeks passed, and it was only then that she allowed herself to even think about her own soulmate again. They hadn’t written to each other at all since Lucy had ignored the messages all those years ago, but the random doodles and numbers didn’t once cease. Her mind still lingered on that one Manchester United defender she had shaken hands with while she was still at City, but it had been so long now that she’d kind of abandoned the idea, so Lucy just decided to park that theory for the time being.
And then came Lucy Staniforth’s wedding.
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noxturnalpascal · 6 months
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My 2023 Fanfic-Wrapped
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I only really started reading Pedro fanfic in April or May, I got started on some of the well-known fics on AO3 that were recommended on tiktok. However, one of them brought me to tumblr (because I wanted to see more from this author, I wanted to see their moodboards and their sneak peeks). And I haven’t left since.
I even decided to try my hand at writing as well. It’s been a LOT of fun. (My masterlist is here if you want to see all the weird shit I wrote so far). Thank you to everyone who has supported me in all my efforts and to all the friends I've made.
I wanted to create this list to highlight some of my faves this year. If you haven’t read these, they all come highly recommended by me.
I'll be reblogging everything on this list throughout the day. If you’d like to reblog this post and add some of your own favorites from this year - PLEASE DO!!!  I would absolutely love to get new recs!! Let’s share the love!!
In no particular Order - Here are some of my favorites from the year!
Fave Writers (I’ll read anything they write)
@toxicanonymity (joel miller masterlist) Personal Faves: NightWalks!Joel, Vamp!Joel (both Ongoing)
@theywhowriteandknowthings (masterlist) Personal Faves: Creep - Joel, Princess and the Duke - Dave York (Ongoing)
@chloeangelic (masterlist) Personal Faves: Love Me Back - Joel, Seeking What is Desirable - Joel (Ongoing)
@goodwithcheese (masterlist) Personal Faves: The Layover - Frankie, Paranoid Heart - Javi P (Ongoing)
@beskarandblasters (masterlist) Personal Faves: Me and My Husband - Din Djarin, New York or Nowhere - Bodega!Joel (Ongoing)
@absurdthirst (masterlist) Personal Faves: Kinktober 2023 Oct 15th - LactationKink!Dieter, A Marriage of Convenience - Regency!PeroTovar, (they have SO many good ones)
Fave Ongoing Series
Mall Rats (Jackson-era!Joel) by @strang3lov3
Oh! Honey (Monster!Joel x Mortician!Reader) by @lincolndjarin
Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Pimp!Joel) by @iamasaddie
On the Waterfront (Chubby!Mafia!Frankie) by @beefrobeefcal
The King’s Queen (Royalty/ArrangedMarriageAU!Javi G) by @wardenparker
From Eden (PlantShopOwner!Joel x Married!F!Reader) by @5oh5
A Lover’s Pinch (Professor!Joel x Student!Reader) by @hier--soir
Into the Beat of the Night (Bi!Frankie x afab!gn!OC) by @perotovar
Fave Finished Series
A Stranger’s Heart Without a Home (Jackson-era Joel) by @morning-star-joy (This is the one that brought me to tumblr. Doni created this beautiful story and it has a very special place in my heart.)
Late Night Texts (Post-Colombia Javier Peña) by @undercoverpena
Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband (Married!No-Outbreak!Joel) by @netherfeildren
Something New (SexWorker!Frankie) by @prolix-yuy
Something Wretched About This (DrugDealer!Joel) by @covetyou
Pioneer Frankie (A series of stories about Pioneer!AU!Frankie) by @frannyzooey
Trial & Error (No-Outbreak!Joel helps Tommy & reader get pregnant) by @thetriumphantpanda
Pleased to Meet You (Meeting Francisco Morales - twice) by @intheorangebedroom
Fave Characters
Husband's Best Friend Joel Miller (with Married! Reader) (HBF!Joel) by @gracieispunk
Jackson-Era Vampire! Joel Miller (A Secret Worth Keeping) by @multiversed-daydreamer
Soccer-dad No-Outbreak Joel Miller gets a racy text from an unknown number (The Right Wrong Number) by @proxima-writes
Demon! Ezra (with Witch! Reader) (In Every Lifetime) by @xdaddysprincessxx
Protective Jackson-Era Joel Miller (A Safe Haven) by @joelsgreys
THROUPLE Frankie x Joel x F!Reader (Catalyst Masterlist) by @ezrasbirdie
Sleezy Gas Station Joel *MC* Miller (Meet Me in the Back) by @atticrissfinch
Porn Star Joel Miller (with Porn Star Reader) (I Know it When I See it) by @bageldaddy
Fave Dark/DDDNE Fics (These fics aren’t being put in the corner but they do come with some very special warnings so I wanted to separate them)
Trick or Treat? (DDDNE Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader) by @morallyinept
Bullet For You, Darlin’ (DDDNE Dark!Raider!Joel Miller) by @kewwrites
Online Friends (Cherry Bomb) (Dom!Joel, online/phone sex) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear
Blessed Be the Fruit (Dark!DubCon! Joel Miller - Handmaid’s Tale AU) by @romana-after-dark
Red Light (Dark!Obsessive!DubCon! Landlord Joel Miller) by @kiwisbell
The Burglary (DDDNE burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller) by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape
I don't know man.... I just know I like it
Menuet (It’s an animal/shapeshifter/monster fucking thing (Pero Tovar) that fundamentally changed who I am as a person) by @psychedelic-ink
Liquid Gold (Joel - and Tommy? - help Pregnant!Reader out when an issue arises) by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Get a Grip (Watch Model!Joel Miller x Manicurist!Reader Hand/GloveKink!) by @bonezone44
Mother Who Provides (Mommy!Kink Joel gets breastfed) by @pedge-page
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Goodbye 2023, See you all next year!!!!
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angelpuns · 1 year
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Kid Leo Au: Fanfic
| Here's the old fic I promised <3 I don't like the way I wrote it so it won't be posted on ao3, but I figured it'd be a fun supplementary reading for the comic! |
CW: Almost death/dying, uh some crying.
Leo couldn't hear or see Krang Prime anymore. A fact that was both comforting and terrifying. 
His body ached, the lack of a distraction making his wounds throb in time with his heartbeat. He tried to mentally note his injuries, to think of how he would have treated them if he ever got home. 
Something in him told him he wouldn't be going home, though. 
And as much as he had been prepared for that….it still made his chest ache.  
He squeezed the picture of his family a little tighter, letting his tears dissolve into space. 
The thought almost made him want to laugh. He hadn't cried like this in so long, who knew all it took was having the shit beat out of him and being left alone in another dimension? That wasn't a good joke. He was pretty sure it wasn't a joke at all, actually. 
That made the internal laughter die off pretty quick. 
It was so..cold. Not cold, but…there was an absence of warmth. If anything, it felt like…nothing. Like he was floating through nothing. 
The silence pierced his ears, the impenetrable ringing making him shake his head - an attempt to make some sort of sound that wasn't swallowed up by the black hole around him. He did it again and again, unable to get rid of the all-consuming silence around him. His ears rang with it - the effect a lot like being trapped in a soundproof room. 
Hell, he preferred the krang shouting at him and beating him into the ground over the silence. At least he didn't feel like he was losing his mind. If he concentrated just so, he could hear his heartbeat. He shivered involuntarily, shaking his head again to try and focus on something - anything, else. 
The silence droned on for several minutes, Leo trying to distract himself from it by reminding himself what it was all for. Who it was all for. He stole a glance at the picture through bleary eyes. It was a good picture. They all looked so happy. 
Leo stifled the remainder of his tears and let out a long sigh. 
He could handle the choking, stifling quiet.  
He could take a little silence before Kraang Prime inevitably wiped him off the face of the Earth. Or -since they weren't exactly on Earth - blipped him out of existence. 
The thought made him feel nauseous, though that could be from the sensation of weightlessness. Like he was falling through the air in slow motion - never to hit the ground again. 
More tears fell. 
Who was he kidding - he wasn't meant to be alone like this. He'd never been alone before. He'd always..he'd always had someone. 
Leo's sniffles were the only thing that broke the silence, and even that didn't last long. 
Years of silently crying in his room were not being his friend right now. He wished he'd been a screamer. He wished he'd thrown tantrums and screamed along with his music and wailed at the top of his lungs. 
At least then it wouldn't be so painfully quiet. 
The ringing continued, Leo finally managing to zone out a little when a sort of 'fizzle-pop' sound started up somewhere behind him. 
Warmth spread on his shell, a faint glow peeking out from behind him. A crackling sound filled the air, Leo rolling over in the big open space to see what it was. His heart raced at the thought that it was the kraang again, just waiting for him to turn around before striking him to the ground again. 
A bright orange light flooded his vision. Was this what everyone talked about? The light? He'd never really believed in that stuff, but he imagined this is what it might be like. Good to know everyone else was right - he couldn't help but feel a little bitter about being so wrong. 
The light grew, Leo squinting against it. It was warm, taking up his entire vision. It almost looked as if the very sky had broken open. But it was so warm, it must have been that light. The one that you weren't supposed to go into. and yet he wanted so badly to go into it. 
Leo reached for it, wanting nothing more than to be cradled in that light, for the crackling sound to invade his senses and get rid of that horrible ringing. Even if it was the end, it was a hell of a lot nicer than the silence. 
He squinted, eyes adjusting to the light as it grew larger and larger. As it did, he recognized it for what it was. 
A portal. 
His brothers took shape beyond the light, grinning at him with shining eyes. Like they were waiting for him, just behind that opening. He thought it might be a hallucination at first, but that didn't stop him from dropping a solid one-liner. 
He winced at the effort, but grinned nonetheless, " took you guys long enough". 
Nice One, Leo.
Even if this was some hallucination right before he died, he could still get a joke or two in. 
To his surprise, Raph activated his ninpo and reached out with one of his large, red hands, grasping Leo's in it. 
It was warm. It shouldn't have been warm, but it was to him. Leo could sob from the feeling. More tears bubbled up from his chest and he grinned up at his brothers, hurrying to blink them away before they saw. He couldn't be caught crying now, after all that had happened. 
 Raph tugged hard, pulling him closer and closer to the portal. 
If he had the energy, he'd make a joke about how this was way better than floating in a wasteland. Leo wanted nothing more than to hear them laugh, even if it was fake. Even if he made the world's worst pun. 
The feeling vanished almost immediately when the rush of air and the screech of the kraang came from just under him. He chanced a glance back, the giant red eye staring back at him. Even if it was just armor, it felt like it stared right through him. 
Metal claws surrounded him, and Leo almost pulled his arm back - out of Raph's grasp. He wouldn't let the krang win - he couldn't let them win. 
He glanced back again, his chest seizing a little at how close he was already. But then Donnie shouted from the portal and Leo turned his attention back on his brothers. He didn't want the last thing he saw to be that red eye. 
If he made it out of this alive, he'd have to tell Donnie how badass he looked just then. The thought passed so quickly it almost made him laugh - even if he was so sure the kraang was gonna grab him. 
The drill went flying past Leo and into the kraang's face, Raph dragging him to the portal with all the force he could. Leo went flying, the breeze as the smells and the sounds of New York hitting him all at once. He landed hard on Raph's plastron, groaning when he was deposited on the ground instead. 
Now that he had gravity back, everything hurt even worse. 
 "gu-guys!?"
Leo winced, but sat up a bit and looked at his younger brother. 
Mikey was trembling all over, a faint orange glow still emitting from his shaking limbs. He held his hands out in front of him, staring down as they crackled, pieces flecking off and floating away in the breeze. He dropped to his knees, Raph and Donnie rushing to his side. The portal had zipped out of existence, but Mikey was still crumbling. 
Leo rolled onto his knees, his wounds screaming for him to stop. 
No, no, he wouldn't lose Mikey like this. He wouldn't let his little brother die. Not like this, not for him. 
Leo crawled over on shaky limbs, holding back groans of pain. He had to do something. There had to be something he could do. His ribs ached with each breath, but Leo grabbed for his brother, already pulling him close - as if he had any clue what to do for him. 
" Le-leo!" Mikey was staring at him, his arms starting to fleck away from the fingertips down. Leo could only stare for a moment, eyes already burning with tears again. 
To his credit, Mikey gave him a tearful grin. Like he was glad to have done it. 
But Leo would never forgive himself. 
" No, no, c'Mon Mikey-" Leo winced, squeezing Mikey a little in his arms. He didn't know what to do. His thoughts were zipping by, all the medical knowledge in the world doing him no good. He didn't know anything about this. 
Donnie put a hand on his shoulder, Raph taking up the other side. They each squeezed, hands trembling where they touched him. There had to be something…anything they could do.  
Leo couldn't help it. He let out a sob. He did seem to be crying a lot lately, huh? 
Mikey was still shaking, his eyes squeezed shut. Leo hated it - he could feel how scared Mikey was. How terrified he was to be dying. 
There had to be something- anything!
Leo squeezed him tighter, trying to hold his brother together like glue - keep him here just a little longer while he thought of a plan. 
Think, Leo! Think! You're supposed to be the leader- 
Leo begged for something - for any kind of plan. He thought back to everything they knew about their ninpo- maybe his powers? 
Something. Anything. 
" I WO-WON'T LET YOU GO, MIKEY!" he sobbed, curling into his brother and just hoping for something to happen. Raph choked back a sob next to him, gripping his shoulder a little too hard. 
Something in him broke free with that, his powers crackling at his fingertips. He felt lighter suddenly, as blue lightning crackled down his arms and into his younger brother's form. 
Leo shut his eyes, feeling nauseous, but he couldn't stop! Mikey needed him- 
He could feel it, he could feel the power flowing through him and into Mikey - like a current of a river rushing and rushing and rushing towards his brother. 
And it was working. 
Leo chanced a glance at Mikey - his eyes had shut, but he was reforming. Blue light filled in the cracks, Mikey's arms slowly taking shape once again. 
Leo grinned, tears slipping down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and squeezed tighter, sobbing into the embrace. He felt like something was being ripped from his very being, but it'd be worth it. It'd be worth it to keep Mikey safe. 
The current continued. He willed it to continue until Mikey was fixed, until he was better and every piece of him was back in place. The ground swayed beneath him with each pulse of energy that left his body, but he had to keep going. He had to fix his brother. 
Something was changing for him, too, but he couldn't place it. 
It didn't matter. 
He couldn't stop until Mikey was back together again. 
He rode out the feeling of nausea. He could do this. 
He could do it. 
" I got you, little brother, " He murmured, letting the feeling take over. The blue light consumed him - he felt himself slipping away and checked once more to be sure it had worked before letting himself succumb to the blue light of his own powers. Everything was hazy and blue and he felt lighter than air. His heart was racing, his breath coming out in ragged pants. 
He felt himself fall into Raph's side, someone saying something. He couldn't hear them. 
Mikey was safe. Mikey was safe and he had done all he could. 
As long as Mikey was safe, he could rest. 
He could finally rest. 
Donnie was not a fan of all this mystic stuff. Even if he had somewhat mastered his own powers, his brothers' powers still eluded him. Especially now that Mikey had mystic hands or whatever. Raph's clone thing was somewhat more tangible ( literally ), but Leo and Mikey's abilities still felt too unreal to explain. He'd tried once to take a scientific approach with Leo's portals and met a wall. 
He couldn't even begin to explain what seemed to be a literal demon living in Mikey's weapon - not to mention the whole chain and fire business - it was all too much for him to comprehend. He was somewhat relieved when he'd gotten his nunchucks back - at least there wasn't some sort of creature living in them. He hoped. 
But this took it to a new level. 
It was one thing for Mikey to open an interdimensional portal, it was another to watch Leo use his powers to fix Mikey's dissolving form. 
And then to watch him shrink into blue light and become a small child. He felt the same as when Mikey had opened the portal, Leo's powers seeping into his arm and pulling something from him - pulling his energy from him. His skin had crackled and lit up just like Mikey's, but with a brilliant blue light shining through it. And he didn't dissolve into nothingness like Mikey had been doing. 
His first thought was time travel, but his second thought was what if this Leo had sustained the same injuries? 
He could worry about the why's and how's later, for now they all needed immediate medical attention. He couldn't see anything outwardly, but it was hard to tell when Leo was entangled within his wraps and sash, the pieces of fabric too large for him now. 
" Raph, call April, Papa and Casey Jr. And tell them to meet us at the lair, " He informed, taking a deep breath so he could keep it together. He'd had a lot of ups and downs for the past few minutes, but he could keep it together to play family doctor for a bit. 
Mikey was awake, at least, and was no longer dissolving into thin air. He sat up, staring in surprise at the literal child that had replaced Leo. Or, was Leo. Was Leo - but was also a child. Ugh, it was too much to think about right now. He'd have to file the time travel nonsense away for now. 
" did…did everyone else see that?" Mikey stammered out, his eyes moving from his arms to Leo, " I'm - he healed me!" 
" yes, and probably not without major consequences - oh would you look at that, major consequences, " he motioned to Leo. Or tot Leo. Little Leo. He wasn't sure What to call him. Hopefully it wouldn't be a problem for too long. 
Raph had broken from his own shocked stare to do as Donnie had asked, currently on the phone with April - if Donnie had to guess from the over exaggerated shouting on the other end. He wondered if she and their father were okay. If Casey was okay. If anyone had been majorly injured. 
Donnie caught himself beginning to zone out and shook himself out of it. Right. Act now, shutdown later. 
He pulled Leo into his arms, the kid squirming a little at the touch. 
" Stop- stop moving, " He hissed, keeping Leo close to his chest. The slider didn't seem to acknowledge him. He seemed to be just as out of it as Donnie felt. 
Donnie's mind supplied a concerning amount of reasons why, and he found himself hurrying to stand and start for the lair. They had to get home and check him for injuries fast. He mentally checked off what he remembered about concussions - pizza supreme, what if Leo had accidentally fried his brain? Was that even possible? Could mystic powers do that? 
" Donnie?" Mikey was following him. Good, they needed to get a move on. 
" We've got to hurry- if 'child Leo' has sustained the same injuries, we're working on borrowed time. We'll have to deduce why this happened later, " He rambled out, letting his feet carry him in the direction of what he hoped was the right way home. He glanced at his wrist-tech, the crack in the screen making it difficult to read. " I assume its something to do with his powers, but I don't have- I can't make a clear enough hypothesis just yet" 
He knew he was being snippy, even for him, but talking hurt. 
Opening his mouth and forming words felt like the worst thing in the world, but he willed himself to hold it together.
 Hold it together for Leo.
Kid Leo Masterpost
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The King of the Forest (M) ~Bang Chan | 02
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Pairing: WerewolfKing!Chan x HumanPrincess(now Queen)!Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Royalty | Mediaeval Setting Word Count: ~2k | AO3 Synopsis: You had one goal: get your husband’s expert opinion. It should’ve been a quick visit to his study… In hindsight, you should’ve known better. Warnings: pet names · mentions of murder · interruptions · pregnancy · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut)
Author’s Note: a follow-up to The King of the Forest that no one asked for, but i wrote a while back anyway because this idea wouldn’t leave my brain, so now i’m sharing it. hope someone else out there gets to enjoy it💜 especial thanks to @notastraykid for helping me out with this
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Smut Warnings: mentions of public sex · oral [F.Rec]
Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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Being married to the King of the Forest, being crowned the Queen Consort of the Forest, entitled many things. You had to always take your subject’s needs into account, always had to try your best at providing them with a sense of security, of comfort, as if they were your own children.
You’d known this before you mated with Chris, before you became his wife and hopefully forever partner. You had also known how absolutely ravenous your husband was when it came to physical intimacy. You’d had a taste of it when he was courting you, during that year when you were planning your escape from your father’s home, but it seemed like that need for you had increased tenfold after you mated.
And, to be honest, you weren’t doing any better.
You weren’t sure how the mysticism of it all worked, but after getting marked by Chris as his mate, it was like you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It didn’t matter where you were, what you were doing, who you were with, if the need became unbearable it was just a matter of time before one of you acted on it.
It all got so much worse when you got pregnant.
You were horny all the time, your husband was always ready to give you any relief he could, not only that but he was horny all the time, too. He’d been complaining that he couldn’t be near you when he was working on anything particularly important, because as soon as he got a whiff of your scent, slightly altered with his pups now growing inside of you, got him hard immediately, and it made him a bit feral.
Which was how you ended up here, sitting on his desk, in his study, with his head between your legs.
You’d come here only to relay some messages the Royal Advisor had given you, to ask Chris’ opinion on the matter. It took a total of ten seconds after you’d stepped into his study for him to sit you on his desk, drop to his knees, tug your undergarments off of your legs, and for his tongue to find its way between your folds.
With your legs over his broad shoulders, your long skirt hunched up at your waist, your dear husband placed a hand on your small bump, stroking it softly with his thumb. With his other hand, Chris squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh as licked and sucked on your clit. He feasted on you as if his life depended on it, as if you both would die if he didn’t, and, in a way, you felt as if that would be exactly the case.
Quiet whines and moans fell from your lips as you felt sparks of pleasure travel through your body. With a hand on the desk behind you for stability and the other buried in Chris’ hair, tugging and pulling the soft strands between your fingers, you got completely lost in the feel of him. His satisfied groans and hums, his loving, yet still animalistic gaze, all of it combined with his diligent tongue had you so, so incredibly close to your release, there was just no doubt in your mind that he’d get you there soon, and, hopefully, you’d get his monster cock inside of you afterwards, too.
“Oh, darling…” You bit your lower lip, a poor attempt to contain the desperate sounds trying to leave your mouth, to keep your volume to a minimum. After all, you were in his study, anyone could walk by and hear you. It wasn’t like you particularly minded if they did, it just got you a bit bashful. Chris, on the other hand, didn’t care at all.
‘I’m the King, my love. I can do what I want, and if what I want is to have my gorgeous Queen screaming my name, uncaring of who hears, no one can stop me…’ Chris had told you once, in a low whisper against your ear, between pants and groans. With his chest against your back, a hand fondling one of your breasts over your gown, and the other on your hip, he told you this, casually, as if he wasn’t railing you against the wall of a very public–albeit usually empty–corridor in his den. ‘But if it makes you uncomfortable, as Queen, as the love of my life, as a person, you can also do whatever you want, including keeping quiet…Or trying to…’
“That’s so good, my dear, my heart…I’m so, so close…” You could barely speak, your voice came out in hushed whispers, even more so when Chris was looking at you with that glint in his eyes that always reminded you who he was, what he was. He just hummed in understanding, moving back up from where he’d been licking at your entrance, to suck your clit into his mouth.
You inhaled deeply, throwing your head back. Your legs started to tremble, his licks were getting faster, the pressure of his tongue and the gentle sucks of his lips were just right, so good your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were almost there, you could feel the tell-tale signs of your orgasm shining in the horizon, and it was just when you were going to finally reach it that–
“Your Majest–Oh, shit!”
The door of Chris’ study slammed open, your skeleton almost jumped out of your skin with the sudden thud of the door against the wall, and Chris immediately detached himself from your centre and covered you with your skirt.
He didn’t mind if people heard your sounds of pleasure, but he hated the mere thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only he could, or so he had told you once. 
“For fuck’s sake, Minho!” Frustration was rolling thickly off of your husband, and you almost whined at the loss of contact when he removed your legs from his shoulders and stood up from the floor, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “Someone better be dying!”
“I’m so sorry for interrupting your…marital affairs”, Minho had turned around and looked away as soon as he’d spotted you and your husband in the act, which you appreciated. “But this is of the utmost importance, my King”.
Chris sighed, adjusting his length, trying to make the tent in his trousers a bit less obvious. A very futile attempt, in your humble opinion, but if it gave him peace of mind, you wouldn’t comment on it. “Turn around. What the fuck is it now?”
Minho finally turned, and he regarded you with an apologetic smile, a bow, and a greeting of ‘Your Grace…’ before he directed his attention back to the King. “We received a magpie from the borders, Your Majesty”.
Minho handed Chris a piece of paper, which your husband took immediately to read it carefully. It was silent for a few seconds, and as soon as he was done, Chris sighed, bringing a hand to his hair and tugging the more than mussed curls on his head. “Was this all they said?”
“Yup. No further messages, Your Majesty”, Minho replied simply, crossing his arms behind his back and waiting for his King’s instructions.
Chris remained quiet for a minute, until he sighed again, folding the piece of paper. “Double patrol. Anything that happens in the forest, any whisper heard, I want to know it. Tell them to report every single thing they find out of place, any conversation they hear, any outsider they see. Everything. Got it?”
Minho hummed. “Understood, Your Majesty”.
“Good. Next time…shit, at least knock, Minho”, Chris walked back towards the desk, where you were still sitting, with one leg crossed over the other and resting your weight on both of your hands, listening intently. “You’re dismissed”.
“Understood, Your Majesty”, Minho said again, although this time, there was a hint of a smile in his voice, a hint of an amused tone. It didn’t surprise you, considering Chris and Minho grew up together. ‘He might as well be my brother’, Chris told you once.Even if Minho was the King’s assistant, he was probably one of the few people that could get away with making jokes at the expense of your husband, a very close second to you.
As soon as Minho left, closing the door behind him, Chris came to stand in front of you, dropping the piece of paper on his desk and sighing in annoyance as he placed his hands on your growing belly, with his eyes fixed on it.
You brought a hand to one of his, caressing the back of it as your eyes seeked his. “What happened?”
“Pup…” Chris’ eyes finally peeled away from your belly, fixing his gaze on your eyes instead. He looked a bit…worried. Just a bit, but enough to make you worry. “Remember…what I told you a handful of months back? After we mated?”
“You told me many things back then, my love”, you chuckled, trying to ease the tense mood that had settled in the room. 
A small smile made its way onto his lips, and he immediately leaned in to peck your lips. “When we spoke about…your father?”
You took a deep breath at that. Your father was one of those topics you tried to not talk about often. It angered you too much. Regardless, you did remember what Chris had told you back then, of course you did. “That you’ll kill anyone that tries to take me away from you”.
Chris hummed in confirmation, just as his thumbs started to trace circles on your belly. “Seems like your father’s looking for you”.
Your eyes widened a bit, and your soft caresses on the back of Chris’ hand stopped.
You honestly didn’t think your father would even try to look for you… You wondered if he even knew what had happened to you, if he had any theories at all, since you really didn’t leave anything behind to give any leads on your whereabouts.
“They have spotted people with your father’s crest roaming the forest, talking with locals in the nearby towns…Asking for any information on a missing woman whose description matches yours”, Chris brought one of his hands to your face, cupping your cheek so he could softly drag his thumb over your skin. “I doubt they’ll find their way here, but one can never be too sure… If it came to it, what would you want us to do?”
You looked your husband in the eyes for a moment. You knew there was no way you’d go back to your former life, much less now that you had the results of your love growing inside of you. “I’m willing to talk to my father… To give him closure. I probably should have done it before I left, but I honestly didn’t think he’d care”.
“And if he tries to take you back?”
“Then you’ll kill him”, you answered in a heartbeat, with no hesitation. A smile spread on Chris’ face, a genuine one, one that made his eyes disappear into adorable crescents, one that showed just how proud he felt. “Or I will. Whoever gets to do it first”.
Chris chuckled, pulling you in for a kiss. Looping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to you, uncrossing your legs so he could settle himself between them, holding your hips tightly.
“That’s my girl…” Chris mumbled against your mouth, and you would’ve chuckled, had it not turned you on so much.
Your legs wrapped around your husband’s waist, pulling him in further into you, just as his tongue made its way inside your mouth, its soft nudges against your own making you moan quietly. As you buried your fingers in Chris’ hair, as you raked your nails over his scalp and his clothed back, you couldn’t help but feel those familiar butterflies awaken in the pit of your stomach, and he clearly picked up on it.
In a few minutes, he was back on his knees, pushing your skirt out of the way again and bringing your legs to their rightful place on his shoulders. 
“Now, where were we, pup?”
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Tagging: @222wonnie · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @princelingperfect · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @crispytigerearthquake · @meloncremesoda · @amaranth-writing · @fawnpeaks · @dalamjisung
If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form. you must have an indication that you're an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works
© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.
Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !
General Masterlist
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scriggle-scraggle · 3 months
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Due South Fic Recs
Academic Punk by TheHoyden (RayK/Fraser): The quintessential college professor AU
Busted & its sequel Tapestry by JiM: A year after CoTW, and a life-changing experience, Ray goes back to Canada
Like a House on Fire by @bethbethbeth01 & kelliem (RayK/Fraser): “In the immortal words of Yogi Berra, ‘It’s deja vu all over again.’”
With Six You Get Eggroll by @cesperanza (RayK/Fraser): The story of how Ray & Fraser ended up with six kids.
Ray Is Not Actually Graphing The History Of His Relationship With Fraser–That Would Be Pathetic, And Ray Is Not Pathetic–But If He Was Graphing It, Even Just In His Own Stressed-Out, Messed-Up Brain, It Might Look Something Like This by sprat (RayK/Fraser): The sex has never not been good. That is not the confusing part of Ray-and-Fraser. They are naturals at the sex; the sex is their friend. If there was some kind of sexathalon, the two of them would be All-State, trophy-winning champs.
Like a House on Fire by Beth H (bethbethbeth): "In the immortal words of Yogi Berra, 'It's deja vu all over again.'"
Ping by Speranza: I am not the only person here who wants a do-over.
Tip, Slide, Tumble by j_s_cavalcante: Ray knew when he found the body in the alley it was going to change someone's life. He just didn't expect that life would be his.
All the Comforts of Home by rattlecatcher: post-CotW
Family Portrait by Journey [archived by dsa_archivist]: A slightly AU Ray Kowalski meets Constable Benton Fraser.
This Is Us Series by AuKestrel: how was the decision reached between Kowalski and Fraser to embark on the quest for the Hand of Franklin?
Near Wild Heaven Series by AuKestrel: This was, almost literally, the first thing I wrote, and certainly the first long thing I ever wrote. (Coming to Terms was the first "short" story I wrote and posted.) I worked on this off and on for over a year and did not write it in any kind of linear fashion. The first part was actually finished last, in part because I was stuck in getting them to a plausible misunderstanding that was necessary for the plot (such as it was). It's rough, and could have done with more work, although I did fix a lot of the (popular at the time, I swear!) dialect.
I'm posting it in part because I had SUCH a great time writing it (in fact, there are still parts of it that make me laugh), because I learned so much by/while writing it, and also because it's sort of "historical": a lot of the tropes in dS fandom did not exist when this was written (hard to believe, but there were only 27 F/K stories on Hexwood when I came into the fandom, and only about 5 of those had any kind of M/M sex!), and I thought it would be fun for other people to see how we earlier writers managed such things as tropes before they were tropes. But, in essence, you are about to read a "first novel," with all the alarm bells that ought to ring in your head.
Hawks and Hands by Dira Sudis (dsudis): Eighteen sex scenes strung together with angst and hockey.
Finding the Words by Berty: When luck finally runs out, who's there to pick up the pieces?
Wildly Courteous Ways by Starfish [archived by dsa_archivist]: A new assignment has Ray worried until Fraser steps in to help.
When the Ice Goes Out by Kellie Matthews [archived by dsa_archivist]: Long past CotW, Fraser and Ray K. discover that life both it and isn't as simple as it seems.
What We Talk About When We Talk About Wolves by Penelope Whistle [archived by dsa_archivist]: From stake-out to make-out.
Unguarded Protectorate by Bone [archived by dsa_archivist], Mairead Triste [archived by dsa_archivist]: Smut and angst. This story was previously published in the zine SERGE PROTECTOR.
Somewhere Else to Be by Kellie Matthews [archived by dsa_archivist]: This is an AU. Fraser's not a Mountie, Ray's not a cop, but as someone once said, things once linked remain that way. In any universe, they are meant to be partners.
The Reaching Out One by Alex51324: (AO3 account required) It's ten years after the events of CoTW (in other words, the present day). After the Quest, Fraser and Ray went back to their regular lives--
The Course by Bone [archived by dsa_archivist], Aristide [archived by dsa_archivist]: Randomness. Inevitability. Smut.
If It Walks Like A Duck . . . by Beth H (bethbethbeth): When an old friend of Ray Kowalksi's returns to Chicago, it takes almost no time at all for her to draw the obvious - and erroneous - conclusion about Ray and his "partner."
Genesis by kalena: In the beginning, Ray Kowalski meets Benton Fraser, geologist and volcano cowboy, in Hawaii. AU.
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spotsandsocks · 2 months
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Tagged by @tizniz @diazsdimples @wikiangela @hippolotamus @bi-buckrights @exhuastedpigeon Thank you lovelies 💖
How many works do you have on ao3?
89 that’s not too shabby is it. Three years of writing this summer.
What's your total ao3 word count?
902,255 that is quite a few words isn’t it.
What fandoms do you write for?
911
Top five fics by kudos:
If You Break It 3.2k Chris overhears a something and gets upset, then he tells Buck who gets upset too.
They say the Truth will set you free 2.3K Buck get a dose of something at work and gets emotional and chatty
Could Have Should Have Would Have 3.2k an unexpected“I love you” but it’s too late. Isn’t it?
Just Ask 1.7K Eddie's having thoughts, he wants to touch. Buck's ok with that, all Eddie has to do is ask.
Looking from the outside 2.4K TWhat happens when everyone you meet thinks you’re married to your perfectly platonic best friend. Most of these are quite old now, I think I’ve written some just as good or even better but fics don’t seem to get as much kudos these days
Do you respond to comments?
yes everyone is really important to me
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
No fics really end angsty round here but this one’s pretty emotional along the way.
Alone With Your Thoughts Buck gets very badly hurt (for plot reasons) and trying hard to stay alive he realises he’s not as alone as he thought.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
See above! All happy can’t choose the happiest.
Do you get hate on fics?
Not yet- think I’m too small to get noticed maybe!
Do you write smut?
Um yes I certainly do ���� and quite well I like to think 😉 in fact an example will be popping along in FIF shortly
Craziest crossover:
Nope - now AUs is a different story
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of! Can’t imagine anyone noticing my fics enough to steal them
Have you ever had a fic translate
Someone asked to once but who knows!
Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Nope
All time favourite ship?
Gotta be buddie hasnt it. They just inspire me
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
All of my wips languish right now and are crying out for attention but I fully intend to finish them all. I do!
What are your writing strengths?
Not sure?! I think my more canon style fics are quite consistent with the characters in the show. Think that I’m pretty good with a complicated plot but you tell me?? I like the way I can wrap a bit of humor around the more tense bits too.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Long sentences? An over enthusiasm for the comma? Too long? Poor tagging?
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
Maybe controversial but I’m not a huge fan of eddie using Spanish terms of endearment in fics. If he ever does it in show I’ll feel better about it, but it doesn’t actually feel very him, apart from that I don’t mind
First fandom you wrote in?
911
Favourite fic you've written?
How can I chose!! But these old chestnuts I’ve gone on about before but I, very proud of them actually
The Lost and The Found werewolf/shifter au
Good Knight Sweet Prince Prince/knight au
Tied To You From The Start smutty paranormal shenanigans
And obviously dragonriders au… see FIF post shortly
Thanks for tags you lovely lovely people you’re all so so talented I adore you you make my days so much brighter ☀️💜☀️
@rogerzsteven @hoodie-buck @thekristen999 @loserdiaz @weewootruck
@shipperqueen6 @stagefoureddiediaz @underwaterninja13 @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990
@bidisasterevankinard @bekkachaos @elvensorceress @rainbow-nerdss @honestlydarkprincess
@saybiwithme @loveyouanyway @lover-of-mine @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33
@monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @shortsighted-owl @fiona-fififi @the-likesofus
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gallavichthings · 7 months
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Gallavich Masquerade
Welcome to the first ever Gallavich Masquerade!
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This is a brand new event, so feel free to ask any questions you might have.
In a Masquerade, fic authors will write one-shots anonymously. These one-shots will all be revealed at the same time on December 21st - our Masquerade Ball! - and readers (who may also be other writers) will have a bit over a month to attempt to guess who's behind each mask, that is, who wrote what. And the writers, of course, will try to fool everyone!
Details after the read more, but don't forget to please spread the word. This will be fun!
Fic requirements
All fics must have between 2,000 and 5,000 words.
No theme is required or forbidden, but, as this is an event in which the goal is to have as many people reading your fics as possible, writing fics in niche categories is not advised.
I don't know what to write about!
You can get inspiration from anything you want. It can be canon-compliant, canon-divergent, after the show ended, AU...
But, if you still need some ideas, you can find some here, here or here (not to mention @callivich always has tons of prompts lists).
Sign-ups
Signing-up is required and can be done here. For this event, sign-ups can be done up to the time of posting. Unlike other events, this is one where you will need to sign-up only at the end, after the fic is done. You'll be required to add your AO3 username, the title of your fic, the word count, and possible categories under which it falls.
What are the categories for?
In case there are too many fics and I feel like people won't be able to read everything, I'll divide the fics into categories, which will depend on what we get as well. These may be according to fic size, canon or AU, with or without smut, etc., as long as the amount of fics or words in each category is pretty much the same. But it all remains to be seen.
What if I don't have an AO3 account?
Then I'm very sorry, but in this case, you won't be able to participate (as a writer). For his event, having an AO3 account is mandatory so that you can post in the collection. That being said, a lot of people have AO3 invites, so ask right now and someone may be able to send you one.
Posting
Posting will be done on AO3 and AO3 only! This is because the Masquerade Collection will be unrevealed and anonymous. All posting must be done until the eve of the Masquerade, so December 20th. On December 21st, all fics will be revealed and available for the readers. The fics will remain anonymous until January 31st, when the game ends. On February 1st, the authors' identities will be disclosed (and your fic will appear under your account just like any other fic).
As an author, all you have to do is, when posting on AO3, choose to do it under the Gallavich Masquerade 2023 Collection (as in the picture below). I'll take care of the rest. It's important to do so when posting and not after, or it won't work.
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Voting
Voting will be done via a new form, which will be disclosed only after the fics are posted. All fic titles will be displayed and readers will chose from a menu who they think the author is.
Points
There are two ways of winning this game, as an author and as a reader.
Authors are awarded 1 point for each person who correctly guesses their fic and 3 points for each person who wrongly guesses it. That's right, you get more points if you're actually able to deceive everyone!
Readers are awarded 5 points for each fic the guess correctly, but they lose 1 point for each wrong guess. (This is to discourage people from guessing on fics they haven't actually read, as we do want people to read as many fics as possible.)
Authors can also be readers, so they have twice the chance of winning. In case categories are applied, each category will have an author and a reader winner.
Prizes
Winners will get boasting rights! XD Plus, of course, a special post for them.
If anyone would like to make fanart or edits for the winners, please let me know, that would be super nice!
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mixelation · 1 month
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heya, so i've read your fic "it's about magic eyeball biology" right when it came out on AO3 but i just saw it's not online anymore. is there a way you'd be willing to send me the file? I REALLY like it and I was reading it basically every day for a few days because it made me laugh
i pulled it because i was getting comments about it on other fics and that was super annoying. but i guess i don't have a problem reposting it to tumblr. some notes:
this is an AU based on a bunch of jokes in this tag (chronological order)
someone asked about how weird it would be to be an SI and find out about the eyeball symbionts, so i wrote about tori finding out. this fic is a joke. it is not "canon." no one in plasticity, mutagenicity, or any other fic of mine has eyeball symbionts. i do not find it interesting, amusing, or fun to explore this concept in other fics. i do not want comments or questions about it. please respect this
the word i chose to use is "symbiont," which in my experience is the more common term used by people who study symbiosis. "symbiote" is from marvel.
Tori was successful in not vomiting the first time she watched an autopsy. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, but she ignored it, watching Keizo’s hands and pointedly not looking at the face of their latest victim. If she just focused on the steady removal of organs from the abdomen and not the face, she could pretend they weren’t from a person. 
Then Keizo moved on to the head, and she had to look. He pried open the eyelids, and her stomach rolled. 
“The eyes aren’t so bad,” Keizo narrated, voice gruff and bored. He held the lids open with one hand while he cut away with the other. “I like to use curved scissors to-- pay attention-- cut through the fascial sheath, and then you can cut away the orbital muscles and it’ll pop right out. Orochimaru-sama isn’t going to let you touch anyone with a doujutsu, so don’t worry about damaging the…”
Tori frowned, barely listening to Keizo, as the victim’s eye did pop right out. It was smooth, almost a perfect sphere, with the dark brown iris raised ever so slightly. Pink viscera clung to it in Keizo’s hand. 
“Hold on,” Tori interrupted, twisting her neck to try and look at the back of the eyeball. “Where’s the… you know, the optic nerve?”
She was pretty sure the optic nerve was, like, huge. It was a bundle of over a million nerve fibers or something insane like that, if she remembered the human anatomy unit correctly. Her teacher had called it a “bridge cable.”
Then again, that unit was from an advanced high school class, and Keizo was looking at her like she was particularly stupid. Even if he was mean, violent, and uncooperative, he definitely knew more about cutting out eyeballs than Tori.
“Is it smaller than it looks in cartoons?” she tried. 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Keizo sneered. “Here, you do the second eye.”
That was the good thing about eyes, Tori supposed. You got two for the price of one. 
He passed her the curved scissors, which were slick with whatever goo lined an eye socket, and Tori hesitantly put down the notebook she’d been writing in. Feeling very light-headed, she copied Keizo’s movements, gently separating the victim’s eyelids and praying something would happen to intervene in what she was about to do. A fire alarm going off, or a earthquake, or fuck-- she’d take the hideout being actively attacked over this. 
No act of god stopped her. Her hands were shaking so hard that she accidentally punctured the sclera and transparent, goopy vitreous started leaking out. 
The eye did pop right out, though. There was no nerve at the back, and no evidence of one in the back of the pink socket. 
Looking into the face of dead, eyeless person, she could either feel the horror at what she’d done seeping into her very bones, or she could wonder: What the fuck?
xXx
She asked for an anatomy book. 
“I don’t see what the point is,” Kabuto told her. “You’re getting hands-on experience.”
“I want to know how things work when they’re still alive,” Tori replied. 
“Well…” Kabuto rolled his chair back from his desk towards a narrow bookstand of books and scrolls he kept in his clinic. “I suppose Orochimaru would approve. Here, you can look through this while we wait for that drug to kick in.”
He handed her what was clearly a picture book meant for children, a deeply condescending smile on his face. Tori pressed her lips together to prevent herself from saying something disrespectful, then forced her face into a polite smile. 
There was a chapter on different senses, and she slowly flipped through the chapter on chakra networks in mild interest, before she found the two-page spread covering sight. 
Mother of Christ, Tori thought. 
She hadn’t found an optic nerve because there wasn’t one. 
xXx
Part of Tori’s argument for why she shouldn’t be dissected like a frog was that there was no reason to think there was much special about her biologically, including her own anatomy. She thought it would be safer to simply not say anything.
But now she knew. She knew every person in this world was a walking sin against logic, and that knowledge, sitting in the Oto clinic with Kabuto, was a horrible, heavy burden that made it hard to breathe.
The picture book Kabuto had loaned her had explained vision to her the way Tori thought an alien who’d never even seen a human and also who didn’t have sight themselves might explain it: special cells at the back of the eye reacted to light, and then that information was transferred directly into the brain via a complex network of chakra, and this was not even the worst part. 
The worst part was that eyeballs were an entirely separate organism. A mutualistic creature that colonized newborn baby eye sockets and then metamorphosed into basically a giant eyeball that fed visual information into the brain in exchange for protection and nutrients. 
“During pregnancy,” the book had explained in a little Did you know? box, “a mommy’s body makes special hormones, which tell the visual symbiont to make babies too! The babies are called larvae, which have lots of little tentacles to help them move around. They like to stay with mommy, though, and so they find the baby when she holds it. Sometimes, when there’s a problem with mommy and she can’t donate larvae to her baby, a doctor can help daddy’s eyes make babies, or sometimes another mommy will donate!”
Tori was going insane. She was going to hyperventilate. What the FUCK!
“This is the worst thing I ever read,” she muttered to herself, eyes stuck on the book. Whatever drug Kabuto had given her was making her dizzy, but she felt like her vision was laser-focused and perfectly taking in the bright cartoon of two eyeball symbiont creatures. “Is this a joke? This has to be a joke.”
She was vaguely aware of Kabuto frowning at her. “A joke?”
“Visual symbionts?” Tori squeaked out, sounding and feeling hysterical. 
“Yes…?” Kabuto repeated. 
“No,” Tori argued. “No way.”
Bemused, Kabuto dug out more textbooks, these ones meant for actual medical professionals. He flipped through passages on syndromes related to host-symbiont genetic incompatibilities, being colonized by more than one symbiont, symbiont maldevelopment and absenteeism, chakra incompatibilities, if the symbiont spontaneously regrew its tentacles and left your head in order to start its sexual reproductive cycle. 
“Is this…” Tori felt like she couldn’t breathe. She felt more apt to vomit than she did when she’d fucked up trying to cut out someone’s eye. “Is this a genjutsu…?”
“Did you really not know about them?” Kabuto asked. “I thought you had biological training.”
Tori had to work very hard not to break down into hysterics. 
xXx
The good news was that “I have a special nerve that connects my eyeball to my brain and lets me see” sounded exactly as insane to both Kabuto and Orochimaru as “eyeball symbiont creature” did to Tori. 
Well, no, that wasn’t really good news. But she felt vindicated at both their absolutely baffled looks. 
She had to explain it three times– dropping words like “optic chiasma” and “retinal blind spot” before Kabuto believed her enough to press his fingers to her temple and send chakra into her eyes. 
“There is something there,” he said, sounding deeply perplexed, and Orochimaru perked up like a child receiving a Christmas gift. “I think-- yes, it’s a nerve.”
“I think you should be able to see it,” Tori said, “if you shine a light into the pupil.”
They did. Tori did indeed have a white spot at the back of her eye, right where her optic nerve entered her eye. 
“You’re like a cephalopod,” Orochimaru informed her, sounding like a dog owner telling their pet they were a very good girl. “This is how their eyes are arranged, an absolutely beautiful evolution. Oh, but the approach of the nerve is different. How fascinating.”
The examination ended with Orochimaru gleefully jabbing a needle into both Tori’s eyes. This was uncomfortable and painful, and he talked about how the presence of an optic nerve might be part of her future vision. 
At least this backs up my story, Tori thought as Orochimaru’s cool hand held her face down.
xXx
Orochimaru strolled into lab the next day and pulled Tori aside to go over the results of her test with her. He took her down the hall to an office, which was surprisingly homey, all things considered. Orochimaru’s office was lined with bookshelves, and had a nice wood desk and a comfortable looking chair behind it. There was an ornamental lamp, which along with the desk chair, were the closest to “creature comforts” that Tori had seen in Oto so far. 
She sat opposite to Orochimaru, in a much less comfortable chair. He spread a scroll out on the desk in front of her. 
“Do you know how to read the results of a DNA test?” he asked. 
“Uh,” Tori answered. “Not like whatever you’re about to show me.”
He hummed back at her, not at all bothered. “Ah, your otherworldly science. You should tell me about that later. For now…”
He explained how he’d compared the DNA extracted from her eye to DNA extracted from the hair he’d ripped off of her previously. They had matched exactly. He’d also ran her eye DNA against several visual symbionts they had on file, across many vertebrate taxa, and found no match at all. 
“Your eyes are one-hundred percent Tori,” he said. “It’s amazing.”
“...thanks?” Tori tried. As a joke she added, “I grew them myself.”
“Hmm,” he answered. “I wish I had more of you, and more of other animals from your world. I’d like to study how they evolved.”
“I don’t understand how they didn’t evolve here,” Tori told him honestly. They had a special socket and everything! “I think… do other animals have eyes here? I’m pretty sure eyes evolved more than once. In my world, I mean.”
Orochimaru leaned back in his seat, eyeing her indulgently, a smile tugging at his lips. “The leading theory is that the symbiont started as a flesh-eating parasite that attacked proto-eyes in vertebrates, and then evolved with us until it simply replaced our eyes. Most babies are born with soft tissue in their sockets, to feed potential symbionts, and some think that growth is left over from millions of years ago when our ancestors had their own eyes.”
“Oh,” Tori said, unsure how to respond to that. She’d been taught parasitism and mutualism were opposite sides of the same symbiotic spectrum, so moving from one end to the other made sense. “Well, that happens sometimes.”
Orochimaru laughed. 
They chatted. Orochimaru was good at answering questions thoroughly and without making Tori feel like she was stupid the way other Oto residents did, and he nodded along to her talking about whatever eyeball-related thing that came to her mind. Red-green colorblindness being a sex-linked trait, for example, was an extremely interesting topic for Orochimaru. 
“So do you not have the genes for photoreceptors at all?” Tori asked curiously. 
Instead of answering her immediately, Orochimaru had started writing down notes to himself. With the exception of occasionally labeling a tube or sample, Tori had never actually seen him write anything down before, and he scribbled with a sort of fervent focus. 
“I’ve never looked,” he said eventually. “There’s evidence for photosensitivity in those without symbionts, but… It would be interesting to use your genome to search for any analogous loci…”
Because the conversation flowed easily, Tori eventually felt bold enough to ask:
“So is this why you can just pass sharingan around like hot potatoes?”
Orochimaru paused in the middle of writing, blinking at her. 
“Hot potatoes?”
Tori blushed, and then backpedaled. “I know you… uh, Sasuke is going to get into a fight with Danzo at some point.”
She gestured at her forearm, and Orochimaru let a loud, rasping laugh. 
“I don’t think Danzo can see particularly well with those,” he said, eyes mirthful. “But I suppose eye transplants would be quite difficult with a nerve to connect, wouldn’t they?”
Tori nodded. She was pretty sure they weren’t even possible. There were… a lot of problems, there. But if the eyeball was supposed to be an external creature, it had to be easier to pass them around. 
“They have quite a high success rate here,” he answered, tone flippant as he played with the pen in his hand. “Unfortunately, an eye transplanted into a non-related host can rarely be coaxed into reproducing.”
“Huh,” Tori answered. “Why?”
Orochimaru’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “Perhaps that can be your next project.” 
xXx
It didn’t get to be Tori’s next project, because Oto ended up going up in flames. 
She didn’t even have time or energy to think about how everyone in this world was running around with symbiont eyeballs instead of regular eyes until months later, sitting in Sasori’s workshop and carefully stirring some foul-smelling concoction while he excavated someone’s insides so he could hide weapons inside or something. 
“You know, you guys should really invent magnetic stir-bars,” Tori said, eyeing the beaker of slowly bubbling sludge and wondering if the fumes could hurt her. 
Apparently Sasori was in a bad mood today, because he put the horrifying… scooping tool… down and turned to her fully. 
Like carving a pumpkin, Tori thought against her will, eyes fixated on the… organ scooper?
“What stupid thing are you rambling about now?” Sasori asked her, voice harsh. “You’re distracting me. If you make a single mistake with that poison--”
Tori was trying very hard to pay attention to Sasori’s threats and not think about all the horrible squelching noises of the organs she’d removed herself. It was better to listen to Sasori, really. Probably increased her chance of survival, even. 
There was movement behind Sasori. Tori squeaked in surprise. Sasori clicked his tongue in annoyance, picked up the organ scooper, and then used it to catch something right out of the air with the ease of a professional lacrosse player. 
“Oh, disgusting,” he said, staring down at it in evident annoyance. 
Something else plopped to the floor with an audible, vaguely wet thud. It rolled across the concrete floor, and Sasori trapped it against the floor with a firm sandal. Tori leaned over the bench to see what was going on, and saw the transparent ooze of viscera across the cement and gray tentacles trashing against the floor and the sides of Sasori’s sandals. 
“Is that an eyeball symbiont?” Tori asked, suddenly excited. She leapt to her feet and came to stand beside him, peering into the shell of the organ scooper. 
Sure enough, an eyeball with a halo of tentacles was rolling back and forth, desperately trying to escape. 
Holy shit, Tori thought. That was… that was amazing, actually. 
“It’s sort of cute,” she said. 
Sasori looked at her like she was insane. This was, apparently, such a bizarre statement that he didn’t immediately react to the eyeball finally lurching itself forward and out of the scoop. Tori caught it easily in one hand as it fell. 
“Don’t touch it,” Sasori hissed, grabbing her wrist. “Are you insane? It’ll induce your eyes too.”
“...what?” Tori asked, blinking back at him. “Oh, because the tentacles mean it’s trying to have sex?”
She stared down at the thing in her hand. The tentacles wriggled between her fingers. Kinky little bastards, weren’t they?
Sasori was looking at her with… awe wasn’t really the word. More like: What the fuck, I have never seen someone this carelessly insane before, and I am horrified that humanity could reach these depth. 
Which was kind of rude, actually, because they lived with Hidan. 
“What do you mean by ‘induce’?” Toi asked. 
“Do you not know how eyeballs work?” Sasori asked, sounding just shy of hysterical. 
Apparently, handling an eyeball symbiont in its sexual reproduction mode could induce a symbiont in a host to also leave the head and revert to its sexual cycle, so they could both run off and hopefully have an eyeball orgy with as many symbionts as possible. Tori guessed that made sense. The symbiont reproduced mainly asexually, but most things did occasionally run off to have sex. That was just life. 
Sasori was absolutely disgusted by the entire process. His symbionts were the only living part of him, and he was personally horrified by the idea of them crawling out of his head to make babies. 
He also seemed to be viscerally repulsed by the threat of a loose symbiont in someone’s living quarters, not because it might affect his housemates, but because he didn’t like the idea of more tentacled symbionts flopping around. 
“Is this like… an ongoing societal problem?” Tori wondered. Did people kill them on sight, or was this considered a beautiful miracle of life? 
She didn’t get to find out, because her question triggered a rant from Sasori about how much he hated them, and that they should just stay in people’s heads and look pretty like they were meant to. 
“Is it common to leave a dead host like this?” Tori asked when he calmed down. They couldn’t really move on their own unless they went into sex mode, after all… 
“Why are you still holding it?” Sasori demanded. His own disgust was the only thing keeping him from prying it out of her hand himself. 
“Oh, I don’t have a visual symbiont,” Tori said, blinking at Sasori. “I just grew my own eyes. Uh. Like an octopus.”
Sasori very slowly let go of her wrist. He stared at her, perplexed. 
The symbiont in her hand wriggled some more. Her own eyeballs stayed firmly in place. 
“...pick up the one on the floor,” Sasori said eventually. 
He wanted to keep them. He liked saving his puppet’s original eyes. Usually, when they left the host, he had to kill them and then isolate them for a week to be sure the hormones that could induce his own symbionts dissipated. That meant, once he was able to safely handle them, they were not in pristine condition. This, perhaps, contributed to why he hated them so much. They were frustrating art material. 
Tori thought, based on what she’d read about things doctors did, he was being a bit paranoid, the way some people didn’t like touching raw meat. 
“You’ll have to kill them and preserve them for me,” Sasori said, having fully accepted that Tori was a weird freak faster than she would have anticipated. 
Tori felt bad when she killed them, slipping a scalpel into their backs where Sasori indicated. 
“You’ll see more live ones,” Sasori sniffed when she complained. “This happens with about a quarter of my bodies.”
Fascinating, Tori thought. She’d never had one of her failed surgery… patients… do this. Maybe what they did in Oto also killed the symbiont? 
“And you don’t use all those bodies for full puppets, right?” Tori asked. “You won’t need every symbiont.”
“You can’t keep it as a pet,” Sasori sneered. 
Obviously she didn’t want a pet. She wanted to run some experiments. This was really interesting, after all! 
Instead of earnestly explaining this to Sasori, who seemed a bit on edge and likely to yell at her, she went for jokes at other people’s expense. He loved those. 
“I want to see if Jashin protects Hidan from them,” Tori told him, and he snorted. “Or see if we can get one to colonize Deidara’s mouth-hand.”
“He will kill you,” Sasori said, not without a hint of bemusement. “You’ll cut off all their tentacles next. I like to use curved scissors…”
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