#they promise beauty and positivity and when bloomed they spread smile

[cinderswrites]

Daffodil Dreams :: Spring Blooms

A Coral Island Fanfic

Playlist || Cover Art || Mood Board

Themes: Slice of Life, Romance, Fluff, maybe some Angst, maybe some Smut (not too graphic but graphic enough)

MDNI || OC x Rafael mainly, OC x Twins (friendship only), other characters featured here and there || WC: 3,338

The briny breeze of the saltwater wound itself through her thick cerise waves, whipping them around her face as the boat continued driving through the ocean water. A smile spread across her face, her golden eyes shining with excitement, and her heart raced in her chest with anticipation.

Her mind thought of everything she had left behind: a fast-paced, awful-paying job in ‘customer care’, the few co-workers she could almost call friends, and her grandparents. The latter was probably the only thing that hurt to think about, but she knew they were well taken care of and they would send her mail often as they promised. She sold everything when she left, taking nothing but a bag of her clothes and some mementos close to her. One of which was a photo of her as a child with two little blond girls.

The twins, Alice and Suki, had been her friends for as long as she could remember. More Suki than Alice these days, but she was excited to see them both nonetheless. “Aye, it’s been a while since you last visited, hm?” Wataru’s grumbling voice called to her from his position by the motor.

She turned around, nodding and smiling at him. “Yeah, it’s been years. Can’t wait.”

He nodded at her and gestured with his free arm to something in the distance. She turned back around, seeing the peak of the mountain and the pier more clearly now that they were closer. She clasped her hands together, trying to hold in her excitement. A tangy smell hit her senses as they got closer, causing her face to scrunch up. She could see the tar-colored effects of the recent oil spill as well as giant black roots that seemed to be creeping toward the island like an ancient sea monster, slowly sucking the life from it.

Her chest felt a pang of sadness. The island was still beautiful from where she sat, but the oil spill had certainly done a number on it. Besides the smell, there wasn’t much clean water near the shore that she could see, and its inky blackness seemed to creep everywhere. Soon enough, they reached the pier, and as Captain Wataru pulled up and started tying off the boat, an older gentleman with a hat on waved at her. “Hello!” he called, his voice booming as the motor of the boat died down. “You must be Cinders, right?”

On steady legs, she exited the boat, grabbed her suitcase, and stepped onto the dock easily. She smiled at the older man, who had a rather profound belly and gentle eyes. “Yes! Cinders Snyder. It’s nice to meet you!”

She stuck out her hand and he shook it with gusto. “I’m Connor, the mayor of Starlet Town. Let’s go see your new farm!”

She nodded with another grin and followed along after bidding farewell to the captain. Her steps were light and bouncy, and she had a swelling feeling of anticipation in her chest that drove her onward.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Later on in the evening, after settling into her cabin and planting her first crops for spring, Cinders walked down Garden Lane towards the inn. The twins knew she was coming and they were waiting for her. Cinders stretched her arms behind her head as she walked, enjoying the cool spring breeze on her skin. Her muscles were burning with the effort of the day, but she’d never felt better. She had cleaned up a bit before going to the inn. Being in her old overalls and t-shirt didn’t feel like a proper way to meet old friends. She dressed up in a gray flowy blouse and a pair of jean capris, wearing her usual slip-on sneakers. She brushed out her hair and it flowed around her shoulders and past the middle of her back, shiny and bright.

As she walked up the dock and towards the front doors of the inn, she could hear the chatter inside. Anxiety peeked its head out, making her heart feel jittery for a second as she hesitated outside the door. Taking a calming breath, she stepped inside. The bright lights illuminating the lobby of the inn almost blinded her, the feeling of the warm air and smell of someone’s dinner hitting her nostrils made her feel more at ease.

“Cinders!!”

She barely had a chance to turn towards the familiar voice before she was wrapped up in strong arms, crushing her against another soft and feminine body. “S-Suki!” she coughed, having had the wind squeezed out of her. When Suki let her go, Cinders grinned and put her hands on the blond’s shoulders. “Oh, jeez, it’s been ages, huh? Look at you! All grown up!”

Suki waved her hand dismissively with a laugh, “You sound like your grandmother!” she remarked jokingly. Her blue eyes met Cinders’ golden ones with fondness and she pulled her in again for an albeit gentler hug this time. “I missed you so much! You’ve grown up since we last saw each other, huh?”

Once they parted, another flash of blond hair tumbled its way into her arms: Alice. “Cinders!” she squealed, holding her just as tightly as her sister had done. “It’s been so long! You’re here and I still can’t believe it!”

“Oh, Alice! It has!” Cinders hugged her back before finally the three of them stepped away from each other.

Cinders ran a hand through her thick hair, a soft flush creeping on her face as she realized their reunion had an audience. A little girl with long brown hair peeked around the leg of a tall rather burly man who stood nearby, an uncertain smile on his face. Next to him was a shorter, leaner-toned man who shared some resemblances with the taller one. The shorter man had a grin on his face as he stood with the confidence of a preened cockatoo with his arms crossed over his chest.

The little girl must have remembered Cinders from her previous short trips to the island, because she bolted out from behind the tall man’s leg, startling him, and barreled herself towards Cinders with amazing speed. The young woman was almost knocked off her feet with the force of Valentina crashing into her midsection, squeezing her with her small arms. “Aunty Cindy! You’re back!”

“Hi, Valentina,” Cinders said with a laugh, her hand smoothing the girl’s beautiful brown hair. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too!” The girl nuzzled her face into Cinders’ soft belly before she let her go and clung onto her hand. Cinders grinned at her before looking up at the twins.

Suki glanced over at the men and back at the new arrival before the light bulb clicked on. “Oh! I’m sorry, how rude!” she laughed a little and gestured to the men. “These are the Sanchez brothers. That’s Rafael,” Suki pointed at the taller one who smiled a little and nodded in her direction. “and that’s Pablo.”

The leaner man strode forward, smiling dazzlingly as he reached for Cinders’ hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of it softly. “We’re Valentina’s uncles,” he added as he lowered her hand. Cinders saw Suki roll her eyes, an action that was repeated on the taller man’s face. “Your name is… Cinders?”

She nodded, pulling her hand back quickly and smiling with a hint of discomfort. “Yes, Cinders Snyder. It’s nice to meet you.”

Pablo smiled again before stepping back. The taller man walked forward with quiet steps, holding his large hand out. “Um, hi, I’m Rafael,” he said in a quiet voice.

Cinders looked up into his soft brown eyes, feeling her heart skip a beat, and she could feel the heat return to her face. “Hello,” she said, smiling as she reached forward to take his hand. Despite his rugged demeanor, his hand was soft, warm, and comforting all at once. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Um, you too,” his smile was still small and uncertain, and he let her hand go and stepped away as well.

Suki clapped her hands, “Alright! Everyone’s met everyone, yes? Who’s up for some dinner?”

A chorus of agreement responded to her and Cinders was pulled along towards the inn’s kitchen by an eager Valentina who rambled on about how she wanted Cinders to sit with her and tell her about everything before moving here. She laughed and followed after her, her golden eyes glancing at Rafael as he and his brother Pablo trailed behind. She noticed how Rafael smiled at the little girl’s antics fondly, and her heart skipped another beat.

Valentina made her sit in the middle of the table while the little girl sat on her left side, still holding onto her hand, as if she were to let go, Cinders would be gone forever. The tall man, Rafael, sat on the other side of Valentina. Pablo sat across from him, with Alice on his left, and Suki on hers. Suki spread out the dinner, which was a spread of seafood dishes, freshly caught that morning and cooked for tonight.

The conversation was sparse as everyone reached for their favorites. Cinders helped Valentina get a couple of fish tacos that she loved so much, and after that, she reached over for the sashimi. Her hand collided with Rafael’s, who had been about to take the dish. He promptly dropped it, and it clattered loudly on the table’s wooden surface.

“Oh!” she gasped, looking over at him, “I’m sorry.”

“S-sorry,” he replied, putting his hands in his lap. “Please, help yourself first.”

Pablo, who had been talking with the twins, looked over at them when the dish was dropped. He grinned at his brother, a curious look in his dark eyes. “Everything alright, Raf?”

Rafael nodded but avoided anyone’s gaze.

Cinders smiled a little to herself as she grabbed the dish, picking off a few pieces with a fork before she reached over to hand it to the taller brother. He noticed immediately and looked up to meet her eyes. A small smile returned her own as he grabbed it and served himself. She sat back in her seat, taking one of the soy sauce bottles.

“So, Cinders,” Pablo said after a few minutes. She glanced up at him as she was chewing her food. “What brings you back to Coral Island? It’s quite a move from the city.”

She swallowed, taking a drink of water after. “It’s not much of a story, really,” she said with a soft laugh. “I was working in a call center and taking care of my grandparents. I lived with them at the time. Grandma Ina saw how I brought her garden back to life in the backyard and told me about her and Pappy’s old farm here, and she said they’d sign over the deed if I wanted it. She mentioned that the mayor here contacted her recently about purchasing it if no one was going to take over.”

“And you just packed your bags and moved?” he seemed incredulous, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

Cinders shrugged, “I was tired of the city life and needed a change.”

“You weren’t worried about leaving anyone behind?” he continued with his prying questions. Cinders noticed Rafael’s look of disapproval towards him from the corner of her eye.

She smiled and shook her head quickly, “No, the only people I left behind were my grandparents. One of my cousins moved in with them in my place, so they’re still being taken care of. Much better than I could, since she’s a nurse.”

Suki leaned her chin in her hand with her elbow on the table, sighing dramatically. “And here I thought you missed me so much, you wanted to come back,” she said in faux upset.

Alice giggled while Cinders rolled her eyes in response. “Oh, of course, how could I forget you, Suki?”

Valentina tugged on the sleeve of her gray blouse. She leaned in conspiratorially, holding up her hand to her mouth. “You actually came back for me, right, Aunty?” she whispered loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

Amidst the gentle chuckling, Cinders nodded, wrapping her arm around the girl and squeezing her against her side. “You saw right through me! I did promise you after my last visit.”

Valentina giggled and her megawatt smile shone brightly. Dinner continued on amiably, the twins recounting their experience running the inn so far. Suki didn’t mention her recent divorce, but from her letters, Cinders knew that it bothered her something fierce. As dinner was ending, everyone moved from the dining room to the lobby. Cinders stayed behind to collect the plates and put the food away, cleaning up after everyone.

Rafael had wandered back in, pausing in the archway, watching her in surprise. “You shouldn’t clean up after everyone,” he said after a moment. “You’re the guest tonight.”

Cinders looked up from washing the dishes. She smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her pierced ear. “Oh, I don’t mind. Suki and Alice know how I am.”

He strolled up next to her, opening the dishwasher and placing the rinsed-off dishes inside. “I’ll help you then,” he said as he did so. Soon enough, the kitchen and dining room were cleaned.

Cinders dried her hands with a towel after they were done, folding it over the handle of the oven. She leaned back against one of the counters, nodding to herself as she looked over the long room with a sense of pride. Rafael silently settled next to her once he started the dishwasher. It wasn’t an awkward silence, though, it was the kind of silence that was comfortable and warm, like a soft blanket on a chilly evening.

“Cinders,” he said after a moment passed. She looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

He glanced at her before ducking his head and rubbing his neck, “S-sorry. It’s just… I’ve never heard someone named that.”

“Oh,” she laughed softly. She shrugged her shoulder, looking back at the room, “It’s unconventional for sure, and most people just call me Cindy, which I’m fine with.”

“Did your parents tell you why they named you it?” his tone was curious.

“No, they didn’t name me. I guess I named myself?” she said, her voice lilting as if asking a question. “It’s a little convoluted, I suppose. My grandparents raised me from birth, and my grandma wanted me to have a name that I was proud of. So around the time I could talk, I finally told her I found a name. I must have been about five or so.” His eyebrows pinched together, “What did they call you until you decided? And how did you decide on Cinders?”

She giggled and looked down, scuffing the tip of her shoe on the tile, “They called me Jane, like Jane Doe, until I figured out I wanted to be called Cinders. And I found that name in a book about cats, funnily enough. It just sounded so… me, and that’s what I wanted. I’ve never had regrets.”

He smiled, chuckling softly. “That’s a very interesting way to find a name,” he commented. “It’s… nice. I think it suits you.”

She looked up at him again with a friendly smile on her lips. “Thank you, Rafael,” she replied. “I think it does, too.”

“How was your first day on the farm?”

She blew air out of her mouth in a heavy sigh. “Goddess, it was tiring!” she laughed, “Like I mentioned earlier, I restored grandma’s garden back in the city, but that was like training wheels compared to farm work. I’ll definitely be sore in the morning.”

“What are you planning for the plot overall?”

“Mm… ideally, I’d like to focus on flowers and honey, maybe make some mead eventually. I know the Duckorns are the main vineyard here, and I don’t want to step on any toes, but I do love bees and honey. I figure I’ll start with a little bit of everything until I’m settled enough to change to the flowers,” she explained, reaching up to rub her chin thoughtfully as she spoke.

He nodded along as she talked, visibly interested in what she was saying, which made her feel happy and noticed. She was used to talking to people, but not feeling like they were actively listening. After she finished, he spoke again, “Wow, that’s quite a plan there. What about ranching?”

“Oh, I’d love to get goats eventually, but I don’t think Jack has any right now. There’s still a lot of things I need to do before that anyway, especially clearing all the debris,” she groaned. “It’s going to take ages.”

“I bet it’ll go faster than you think,” he had a tone of confidence. “Maybe—“

Before he could finish his sentence, Pablo walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Raf, what’s the hold-up?” he asked casually. He looked around the kitchen and dining room, “Wow, did you two clean up in here?”

Cinders nodded. “Sure did,” she said, her tone even and friendly. Then she turned to Rafael, “Am I keeping you?”

Pablo answered for him, “We do need to get going before it’s too late. Shutting off the furnaces takes a while.” he reminded his brother before he left.

Rafael rolled his eyes. He looked down at Cinders with a sheepish smile, “I suppose I’ll see you around.”

She walked with him to the lobby. “It was nice talking with you, Rafael,” she told him sweetly just before they walked to the others. “A-and you,” he replied, his voice shy again. The three women and the little girl bid a goodnight to the brothers and watched as they left.

Cinders felt Suki’s elbow in her ribs the moment the door closed. “Gettin’ kinda cozy in the kitchen with Rafael, weren’t you?” she said slyly.

Alice giggled, as did Valentina, while Cinders blushed fiercely. “Mind your business, nosy,” she retorted playfully. “We were just talking.”

“Sure, sure,” Suki said, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”

Cinders rolled her eyes hard enough that they felt like they were going to roll back into her brain. “You’re a menace,” she laughed. “I should get going, too.”

Valentina wrapped her arms around her midsection again. “Nooo!” she whined tiredly. “I don’t want you to leave, Aunty!”

Cinders looked down, patting the girl’s head softly. “Aww, sweetheart, you can come visit me anytime. And I’ll be around town, too. I’m not leaving this time.”

Suki pulled the small girl off, hoisting her up in her arms. “Come on, Val, she’ll be back around when she has time. I’ll make sure of it,” she added, holding two fingers up in an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

Valentina rubbed her eyes sleepily and nodded, giggling at her mother’s antics. “Okay. Goodnight, Aunty Cindy.”

“Goodnight, Valentina!” Cinders waved as Suki carried the girl towards her room.

Alice yawned and stretched beside her, having been silent throughout the exchange. “It was real nice seeing you again, Cinders,” she said gently. “We really missed you around here. Suki, especially. She hasn’t had a close girlfriend for a while.”

Cinders looked at her, searching her face. “Yeah… I missed you all, too. I should have come sooner, honestly,” she sighed. “Twenty-eight and starting life over? Feels like a… I don’t know. Something.”

Alice reached out and patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Hey, don’t worry about that, yeah? I mean, look at Suki. She started over recently, too.”

Cinders nodded, “You’re right.”

“Have a good night and a safe walk, okay?”

“Yeah. Good night, Alice.”

The pink-haired farmer smiled at her one last time before walking to the door. She opened it and stepped out into the cool night air, feeling the chill raise goosebumps on her arms. She rubbed them as she began walking off the dock and towards her farm, ready to settle into bed after a long and exciting day. The nocturnal song of the crickets and river bubbling kept her company as she walked.

[jplupine]

Day 8: Shunsui Kyoraku ~ Shibari

Pairing: Shunsui Kyoraku x Wynter Hughes [Nonbinary OC] Word Count: ~2k Date Published: October 8, 2023 WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, Dom!Switch!Shunsui, Established Relationship, Age Gap, Size Difference, Shibari, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Finger Sucking, Vaginal Sex, Praise, Creampie Note: Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used. Shunsui also uses terms like 'dear' and 'good boy' to refer to Wynter. If that makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this fic.

Summary: Shunsui has a little fun admiring his rope skills.

You can also read it on AO3!

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

  My cheeks were warm as I laid in such a compromising position. The soft pillows at least provided some comfort, but I was still aching for a specific type of relief. The soft ropes binding my hands behind my back were tight enough that I couldn't wiggle free but loose enough that I still had circulation.

  The red ropes were also crisscrossing my body and twisting to form patterns down my torso. Worst of all, my legs were bound and forced to bend at the knee while spread. The ropes dipping between my thighs gave no friction where I needed it most, and I huffed.

  I'd lost track of time at some point and had no clue how long I'd been forced to lay like this while left in front of the squat table Shunsui was working at. He'd left me on display just for him as he scribbled away on some paperwork he'd 'suddenly remembered' right after tying me up.

  "Just a little longer, I'm almost done." Shunsui's low voice broke the silence, and he sounded amused.

  "Can't you finish it later?"

  "I'll forget about it later."

  "You're horrible."

  "Oh, I'll make it up to you, dear. I promise." I heard the scritching from his writing continue and huffed while turning my head to look out the window. The curtains billowed in the warm breeze as the scent of blooming flowers wafted in.

  I tried focusing on that to distract me from the fire beneath my skin and the growing need between my thighs. I knew Shunsui was having fun leaving me like this, especially when he hummed while looking at me. No matter what I did though, I was still so turned on.

  The anticipation and being put on display was enough to have me dripping with arousal. The ropes pressing against my skin and limiting my movement didn't help, either.

  Turning my head to look back at Shunsui, I saw him with his cheek on his knuckles and his elbow on the table while his eyes were glued to my pussy. Having his full attention on me sent a tingle up my spine, and I swallowed. The corners of his mouth were turned up in a small smile, his expression not quite fitting me lying there naked and bound.

  "I think I quite like shibari. It's such a beautiful art form." He then rubbed his hand over his scruffy jaw. "I also think the ropes suit you rather well."

  "Please tell me you're done now."

  "Just about." He chuckled. "Though you don't seem to mind too much. I can see how wet you are."

  "I do mind." I sighed while looking at him. "This is getting unbearable." My gaze wandered over his bare chest and down his hairy torso.

  "Unbearable? Hm, I guess I should hurry up." His tone was calm as he actually began to write slower, and he wasn't even looking at the page.

  "Shunsui!" I let my irritation show, and he smirked.

  "All right, all right." He backed away from the table before getting up. His long, toned legs carried him closer to me until he stood over me with his hands on his hips. "I wouldn't want you getting more of an attitude." Shunsui tilted his head while looking down at me, and my eyes dropped to his hard cock.

  At least I hadn't been the only one left wanting from the wait.

  "Though I am tempted to keep you like this. You look like a work of art, Wynter." He then lowered himself to his knees before placing his hands on my thighs. Shunsui tugged on some of the ropes to check that they hadn't loosened and was satisfied to find they were still tight. "I'm sorry for making you wait so long."

  "No, you're not." I retorted, and he gave a lighthearted chuckle as he leaned over. His long hair was still back in a ponytail so that it wouldn't get in the way. His lips brushed across mine before kissing me sweetly.

  My nipples hardened from excitement when his kisses trailed down my jaw and neck. His long fingers danced across my skin between the ropes, and I leaned into his touch with a soft moan. Shunsui's lips found the sensitive spots on my neck and paid them more attention.

  His mouth ventured to my collarbone after he licked my throat. My breath shook, and his fingers were leaving goosebumps from his gentle touches. My hips rocked up out of eagerness, silently begging for him to touch me where it ached.

  "You've been so good for me." Shunsui's voice purred as his breath rolled over my skin. He then ran his tongue over one of my nipples while his fingers brushed over the skin just beneath my belly button. "My, you're certainly sensitive today." He grinned while watching me as he pulled on the ropes that were on either side of my dripping heat.

  I took in a sharp breath as my hands balled into tight fists. His kisses slowly went lower, following the gaps in the rope while his fingers trailed over my hip.

  "Shunsui...." I was just shy of begging when he nipped my side.

  "Hmm?" He hummed in response so calmly, and his hand finally reached between my thighs. His fingers followed the lines of the ropes while completely avoiding my clit.

  Shunsui licked along the crease of my hip as his fingers slid up through my wet lips. My breath faltered and my hips lifted to follow his touch. I'd been left waiting for far too long.

  I felt his breath on my core as his fingers circled my pussy. I bit my bottom lip to silence the whine threatening to spill out. Shunsui finally pushed his fingers inside as he kissed my clit.

  "You're so wet." He smiled while looking up at me. He kissed again while slowly stroking his fingers. My thighs flexed as my hips rocked up into the stimulation. "Mmm, you've been so patient. Thank you for letting me get that work done." Shunsui licked my clit, and my head lolled back.

  I moaned when his fingers curled, pressing against a spot that sent shocks along my nerves. His mouth worked my clit as he pumped and curled his fingers to turn me into a moaning and writhing mess. I was at his mercy while bound, but oh, was it breathtaking.

  "Fuck~!" I moaned as my back arched, and Shunsui hummed with approval. I bucked from the added vibration, and I so badly wanted to bury my fingers in his hair.

  "Feels good?" Shunsui asked with a low tone so close to a purr.

  "Yes!" My voice was breathy, and his tongue glided across my clit before it curled to lap up the slick dripping around his fingers. My fingers flexed as I panted and arched off the floor.

  I could feel my orgasm building until Shunsui pulled away. I felt so empty without his fingers, and he licked one last time before kissing. He rose up and smiled down at me.

  "Would you open your mouth for me?" His tone was so sweet unlike his eyes that looked ready to devour me. My lips parted, and he slid his wet fingers inside. "Good boy." I shivered from his tone and praise while tasting myself on his fingers.

  I licked and sucked them clean until he was satisfied. Shunsui then leaned back while his gaze wandered down my body. He was smiling and hummed as he stroked himself. With his free hand, he grabbed the ropes against my lower gut and picked up my entire lower half with such ease.

  Since he wasn't human and a foot taller than me, I wasn't all that shocked he could do it.

  Shunsui rubbed his cock against me to smear my arousal along his shaft. My heart was racing while watching him. He then lined up the tip to my entrance and slowly pushed inside.

  I panted and closed my eyes while feeling him go deeper. He adjusted his hold on me and used the ropes for a better grip. Shunsui gave a satisfied sigh when he was in to the hilt.

  "Still comfortable?"

  "I'm fine." I licked my lips while feeling my body accommodating his thick cock.

  "Only fine?"

  "I can't say I'm comfortable when cumming is all I can think about right now, Shunsui." He chuckled at my reply.

  "Fair enough." He pulled out a few inches before thrusting back in. I moaned, and he held me up as he continued to go as deep as he could before swinging his hips back only to thrust in again.

  The angle he was hitting from had my body shuddering as I moaned. He gradually started going harder while pulling me into each thrust. The impact reverberated through my entire body, and he was groaning.

  "Oh, so good~." Shunsui's head fell back as his eyes closed. He was just as desperate to cum as I was, likely having been hard the entire time he was at that table and watching me. I was surprised he managed to sit there as long as he had.

  Slick was dripping down my ass and his balls as they kept smacking against me with each thrust. It felt so good as I freely moaned without giving a shit if anyone else heard me.

  "Shunsui~!" I moaned his name, and his hips bucked. He grabbed the ropes over my chest to lift me up before grabbing my ass in both of his hands as he kissed me. My thighs rested on either side of his hips, and he lifted me off his cock with ease before dropping me back down.

  His lips were soft and warm against mine in a heated and hungry kiss. Being bound meant he was literally all that was keeping me from falling as he fucked me. His tongue slipped past my lips and twisted with mine. Shunsui devoured my moans as his groaning was getting lower and lower, nearly sounding like growls.

  "How am I doing, darling? Forgive me?" He questioned, and I only moaned in reply. Shunsui smirked while watching my face closely. "That good, huh? I can feel you getting close." His husky voice purred.

  This new position had my clit rubbing against his pelvis, so of course I wouldn't last much longer. My thighs clenched around his hips as my entire body shuddered from the pleasure.

  Shunsui dipped his face toward my neck to kiss over my pulse and to leave hickeys and lovebites on my skin. The sensation only added to the onslaught to my nerves in the best of ways. He kept a steady rhythm while bouncing me on his cock, and he eventually began to rock his hips up each time he lowered me back down.

  I was panting and moaning with my skin burning. Shunsui was so warm and smelled so good as his mouth was on my neck. He moaned, and his grip on my ass tightened.

  We were both nearing our climaxes as our moans were getting needier. Shunsui held me flush against his chest and started snapping his hips into me.

  "So close. So close." His breathy voice had such urgency as his strong grip kept me held up. I moaned near his ear and felt him shudder.

 I cried out with muscles clenching when I finally orgasmed. Me cumming around Shunsui's cock set him off as he slammed into me and groaned. I could feel him cumming with each twitch of his cock.

  He was panting and crashed onto his back into the pile of pillows. With me resting on his chest that was rising and falling with each breath, I just relaxed with my face in his neck. Shunsui lazily began to loosen the ropes around my legs first, and they felt so weak while laying limp against his outer thighs.

  "Next time....you're the one getting tied up." I panted, and Shunsui chuckled as he worked on freeing my arms.

  "Promise?"

[flowersonline24]

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Whether you are looking for a birthday present, Mother’s Day gift, or simply want to show someone you care, our flower bouquets are sure to put a smile on their face. We offer a wide range of bouquet styles and sizes to choose from, so you can find the perfect one for your needs.

What’s more, we offer delivery across North London, so you can have your bouquet delivered straight to your loved one’s door. Ordering couldn’t be easier – simply select the bouquet you would like, enter your delivery details, and we will take care of the rest.

Why not brighten someone’s day today with one of our beautiful flower bouquets?

Description of the Flower Bouquets Available

Flower bouquets are a great way to show your loved ones how much you care. At our flower shop in North London, we have a wide variety of bouquets to choose from. Whether you are looking for a romantic gesture or a way to show your appreciation, we have the perfect bouquet for you.

Our most popular bouquet is the “I Love You” Bouquet. This beautiful arrangement features red roses, white lilies, and baby’s breath. It is perfect for expressing your love and appreciation.

If you are looking for a more unique bouquet, we also offer the “Thinking of You” Bouquet. This arrangement features blue irises, yellow roses, and purple statice. It is a beautiful way to let someone know that you are thinking of them.

No matter what the occasion may be, we have the perfect flower bouquet for you. Stop by our shop today and see for yourself!

Benefits of Buying a Flower Bouquet

We all know that flowers have the ability to brighten up any room, but did you know that they can also have a positive impact on your mood and wellbeing? Here are just some of the benefits of buying a flower bouquet:

- Flowers can boost your mood and reduce stress levels

- They can increase feelings of happiness and wellbeing

- Flowers can provide a much-needed boost of energy

- They can promote relaxation

- Flowers can help to purify the air in your home or office

Tips on Choosing the Perfect Flowers for your Loved One

When it comes to choosing the perfect flowers for your loved one, there are a few things you should keep in mind. First and foremost, what is their favorite flower? This is always a good place to start when choosing a bouquet. If you're not sure what their favorite flower is, take a look at our guide below for some tips.

Another important thing to consider is the occasion. Are you looking for flowers for a birthday, anniversary, or just because? Once you know the occasion, you can start narrowing down your choices. For example, if you're looking for an anniversary gift, roses are always a classic and romantic choice.

Don't forget about the budget! flowers can be quite expensive, so it's important to have a price range in mind before starting your search. With all of these factors in mind, you're sure to find the perfect flowers for your loved one.

Delivery Areas and Payment Options

At Harington's, we are proud to offer a wide range of delivery options to ensure that your flowers always arrive fresh and on time. We offer same day delivery in North London for orders placed before 1pm, and next day delivery for orders placed after 1pm. We also offer a click and collect service from our store in North London.

Showcase of Our Most Popular Flower Bouquets

We are proud to offer a wide variety of beautiful flower bouquets for all occasions. Whether you are looking for a special gift for a loved one or simply want to brighten up your home, we have the perfect bouquet for you.

Our most popular bouquets include:

The I love You Bouquet – This gorgeous arrangement includes red roses, pink lilies, and white daisies. It is the perfect way to say “I love you” on any special occasion.

The Thank You Bouquet – Show your appreciation with this lovely mix of flowers including yellow roses, purple irises, and white lilies.

The Congratulations Bouquet – Celebrate a special achievement with this stunning bouquet of orange roses, yellow lilies, and blue irises.

Customer Testimonials

Our customers are always our number one priority, so we're so happy to hear that our flower bouquets are bringing happiness and joy to those in North London! Here are some of our favourite testimonials from recent customers:

"Your flower bouquets are absolutely stunning! I've never seen such beautiful arrangements. You definitely helped spread some happiness and joy at our party!" - Sarah, North London

"Thank you for the gorgeous flower bouquet! It brightened up my day and put a smile on my face. Your flowers are truly stunning." - Emma, North London

"I just wanted to say a huge thank you for the amazing flower bouquet you delivered to me yesterday. It really cheered me up and made my day!" - Lily, North London

Closing Thoughts

It's easy to show your loved ones how much you care with our stunning flower bouquets. North London residents can enjoy free delivery on all orders over £30. So what are you waiting for? Order your flowers today and spread happiness and joy!

[angryschnauzer]

Bubbles

Summary: After a long hot day at work and a nightmare journey home, you find your husband has a very welcome and refreshing surprise for you in the form of a full size jacuzzi in your back garden.

Pairing: Captain Syverston x Female Reader Wife (no race or size mentioned)

Fandoms: Sand Castle (Movie), Henry Cavill.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Semi Public Sex, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Alcohol consumption.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications for future stories. All past works can be found on there or on my AO3.

Bubbles

It had been a long day. Work had been hot and sweaty, customers were grouchy and some even tried to pull the 'speak to the manager' bullshit, even though you were the manager. Traffic had been a nightmare, your car deciding that the middle of a heatwave would be the perfect time for the air conditioning to stop working, simultaneously with a truck of maple syrup hitting the central concrete barrier and spilling its sticky load. 

Snerk. You snorted a laugh through the sweat. Sticky load… your husband would have made a whole bunch of dirty comments and jokes about being covered in sticky loads. You couldn't wait to get home to see him, it was the fact that he had now retired from the Army and would be happily waiting for you at home every night that made each day worthwhile. 

When Sy had finally retired you'd wept tears of joy, every day was a blessing. You'd discussed what you were both going to do with jobs, your contract was up in 3 months time, Sy was drawing a military pension and had saved a considerable nest egg. He'd also taken to industrial upcycling; making lamps and coffee tables out of engines and car parts, which had been massively popular. You had to admit when you saw him in his workshop with his acetylene torch and welding mask on, cutting enormous chunks of metal in half and creating brutal beauty from the elements you were immediately turned on by the raw virility of the sight.

When you eventually pulled onto the driveway, a quick glance towards his workshop told you he'd finished for the day, and as you let yourself into your house you called out to him;

"Sy?"

"Out here" came his slightly muffled reply, and you realised he was probably sitting on the patio out back, nursing a beer.

"I'm gonna run upstairs and take a shower, the aircon in my car has stopped working"

"Darlin, come out here first… i got something that'll refresh you"

Rolling your eyes you started to unbutton your blouse;

"Really Sy, i'm all sweaty and stinky…"

"Woman…" he growled;  "I said get out here…"

If any other man had called you 'woman' you'd knocked them out, but you knew Sy and for him it was a term of endearment. Quietly walking through the kitchen you reached the back door and patio;

"Sy…" you started to speak, but was cut short when you saw what he'd been referring to.

Sat on the corner of your patio, shielded from view by the trellis covered in Clematis blooms was an inflatable hot tub, bubbling away with your mountain of a man sat in it, arms spread out on each side as he held a beer and grinned at you;

"Told ya' i had something that'd cool you down"

Pressing your hand to the side of it you tested the water, smiling when you found it the perfect temperature;

"You bought a hot tub?"

"Rented. Wanted to see if we liked it before we made the investment. Why don't you get in and give it a go?"

"Sure, i'll just go get changed into my bathing costume"

Sy's glinted with mischief;

"Why? I ain't wearing one…"

You weren't sure;

"Its rented? Is it clean?"

"Spent all afternoon flushing the system and giving it a full wipe down, even though the rental company says they do it after each use… i know how you are with hygiene" he moved in the massive tub, moving to the side where you stood;

 "Now are ya gonna get naked or am i gonna have to rip those clothes off of ya?"

A minute later you were climbing in, work clothes hastily discarded in a pile on the patio, Sy holding your hand as he guided you into the bubbly water and you immediately let out a long low moan as the jets of water soothed and massaged your weary body;

"Oh Sy… this feels amazing…"

"C'mere…"

His massive hands cradled your torso, pulling you through the water until you were able to straddle his lap, his mouth meeting yours for a fierce kiss. As your tongues danced together he smoothed his hands over your back, massaging the day's stresses away to the point where let your head tilt back. Resting in his strong arms you let your back touch the water, smiling as the warm summer breeze danced over your breasts, before that skilled mouth was on your breasts, sucking on one nipple then the other, before he shifted and you were floating on the water, his mouth on your pussy. 

You weren’t the tiniest of girls, but you had utter trust in Sy that he could hold you up whilst eating you out. The man would easily heave around 10 foot iron beam railroad tracks to make into coffee tables, he’d pushed his truck home when the engine had died and that is no mean feat when it comes to a Ford F350. So with that knowledge safe in your mind you could thoroughly relax and let his tongue work magic on your clit as his beard tickled your folds. You came with a cry and he swallowed down your essence, before lowering you into the water and onto his lap.

As he lowered you you felt his hardness seek you out, sliding through your folds before you reached down and positioned him at your entrance, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you let yourself be slowly impaled on his shaft. With the worries and stresses of the day easing away with each blissful bubble that popped on your skin you sought out his lips for another kiss as you started to ride him, the friction palatable as the noise of the motor covered the sighs and moans the two of you were making. Sy’s hands firmly gripped your ass, pulling you up and down on his gnarled shaft;

“Fuck… You look so fucking good riding me Darlin’. Definitely gonna get a permanent one of these installed… might get you a coupla’ white bikini’s as i’d love to see these titties through the soaked fabric, would be such a treat…” he grinned at you; “A titty treat…”

Grinning at him you squeezed your pelvic muscles, finally shutting him up so you could concentrate as you chased your orgasm;

“Sure Sy, i’ll get a white bikini… you want me to do the gardening in it too? Watching me on my hands and knees as i plant the petunia’s?”

“Woman, i’ll fucking take you from behind right on the lawn if you do that” he growled, thrusting his hips up sharply and finding your g-spot. One of his hands crept around your hip and between your bodies, seeking out your clit as he ran his calloused thumb over the sensitive nub. From the way he was bouncing you on his lap you could tell he was getting close, his teeth gritted as he tried to hold off from cumming, but with no luck. His hands gripped your hips to stop you from moving in the hope it’d delay his orgasm. You watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and his head fell back against the side of the spa, thrusting his hips up as he swore out a litany of curses as his body reached its peak before he’d have wanted to;

“Fuck fuck fuck… ah god… i’m sorry… fuck…”

Cradling the back of his head in your fingers you stroked at the short hair as you dipped your head down and pressed open mouthed kisses to his neck and shoulders. With his eyes still shut he pulled a hand out of the water and raked it down his face before looking up at you, his blue eyes sparkling;

“Ah fuck i’m sorry Darlin’... lemme see about getting you sorted…don’t get off just yet…”

He slid his hand back between your bodies, his thumb back on your clit. His other hand moved to your breasts, using his mouth on one nipple as he pinched the other between his thumb and forefinger. Writhing on his lap you could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, Sy knowing exactly how to play your body like a guitar as you sang out your siren song that was a blessing to his ears. 

As your orgasm washed over you Sy held you in his arms, letting you ride out your pleasure as he relished the feel of your body surrounding him. Slumped in his arms you nuzzled at his neck, happily riding the waves of pleasure that echoed around your body. 

“You ok there Darlin’?” Sy purred, smoothing his massive palm over your back like a giant bear paw.

“Hmmn” you hummed, stopping mid response when you felt him shift and realised he was hard again; “Sy?”

He looked at you, a smirk on his face as he cocked an eyebrow;

“Darlin… you know when i blow my load real fast i’m ready for another round… your sweet little pussy massaged me back to full health” he pressed a kiss to your nose; “Now turn around and bend over, hand on the side… i’m gonna rail that juicy pussy from behind, see how many times i can make you cum before i shoot load number two”

Manhandling you in the water you let out a shriek as he thrust into you from behind, your walls still tight from your previous orgasm and he did exactly as promised, splitting you open from behind as his powerful thighs railed you harder than the transcontinental express. With his heavy ballsack slapping against your clit you were soon cumming again, Sy fucking you straight through it before he brought you to another orgasm soon after as he filled you with another sticky load.

As you both tried to recover from the energetic synchronised aquatics he pulled you flush with his chest as he sank down into the water, letting you lay back against his chest as your bodies were still joined. His hands skimmed over your torso beneath your breasts, cupping them tenderly;

“We’re getting one of these, right Darlin’?”

“Hmmm, absolutely”

You sat there for a good half hour, cradled in Sy’s arms as you told each other about your day, before your skin wrinkled and it was time to get out.

-

Later that evening Sy had driven the pair of you to the main hardware store in town that he’d rented the Spa from, and you’d ordered the parts and equipment for your very own one. As Sy had started getting deep into conversation with the sales guy who turned out had also recently retired from the Army you tugged on Sy’s sleeve;

“Honey, i’m gonna pop to Walmart next door”

“Sure thing Darlin, i’ll catch up with you in fifteen minutes”

Just as promised Sy found you fifteen minutes later as you browsed through the clothing section, and you spotted that he was swinging a small clothes hangar from his finger;

“What you got there?” you asked

Sy held it up and your eyes practically bulged out of your head; He had found the tiniest white bikini, that although was your size, was little more than three small triangles of fabric connected with the thinnest of strings;

“Exactly what we discussed… now i see ya got a bottle of tequila and some snacks, how about we head home and we can test this out?”

Grinned you nodded;

“Just one thing…”

“Yeah Darlin?”

“We need to grab a few more of those… there’s no way that is gonna survive one wear with you around”

Nodding in agreement Sy grinned, taking the basket from your hand as he wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“See, that’s why i married ya’, thinking ahead…”

He pressed a kiss to your hair as he led you back to the display of swimwear, grinning as you pulled out numerous other cheap pieces of swimwear, knowing full well Sy would destroy them as thoroughly as he destroys your pussy.

[lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall]

The Odd Rumble of Thunder - Thor x Reader

(A/N)

Hey guys! I wanted to personally thank you all for the kind comments and messages, they really inspire me to continue writing more and the support truly means a lot! Also, I just found out how to access post replies, I apologize I haven’t gotten to reading them since my first story, I’m still trying to figure out the gist of things here on Tumblr! Anyways, recently I’d only been posting more on Poseidon, so here’s a special one for our Norse god of thunder (aka the god I simp for the most). This idea came to me while out on a camping trip, I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback would really be welcomed and appreciated!

This is for entertainment only. Record of Ragnarok belongs to Shinya Umemura, Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

The Odd Rumble of Thunder

Thor x Reader

Even before the news spread like wildfire, Thor had become under the tyranny of a good habit to bringing his wife with him wherever he may go. It stood to reason that he would never be so careless to invite you over to danger, hence why, at a god’s ephemeral notice, he had stopped seeking direction for his combative side, but when, at last, he had to venture, he made much quicker work of it than when he would have otherwise.

Inarguably, if you’d wanted to lay down and rest instead, it was a surety you’d receive your meals in bed, unbothered. But for Thor there was no guarantee he’d ever have to worry about you, so the whole of Asgard knew by now he’d drop whatever he was doing to accompany you, uncaring about diplomacy in the first place.

Not that Odin nor Loki minded either; especially since the Allfather knew more about the concerns of a father expecting their first child. Moreover, Loki enjoyed shapeshifting into his cousin during days he was absent. It was much more fun to cause mischief legally, as he would say.

Today, Thor stood by his wife who sat comfortably in her rocking chair on the porch, allowing a full view of the hills that sloped gently down to the grand gardens. You were seven months along, approaching the eight month, the swell of your stomach now far more prominent.

At the very moment you had begun to show, you had a companion of whom would almost never leave your side, your husband’s absence in the kingdom gradually becoming more frequent, more lengthened, till at last his presence among his people became an exception. Despite your constant reassurances that you would be fine, Thor insisted on staying, casually sweeping aside your thoughts regarding his habitual sense of duty.

“I would only be gone for nine months to tend to my wife and child, they should fare well on their own lest they are more incompetent than I would’ve thought.” Thor had told you once before, and you’d decided not to question him further on that. You understood your husband’s concerns, to be truthful, you had a few of your own as well, so having Thor assist you alleviated some of the stress and worry concerning your child’s safety.

Especially now that you were nearing your due date. For instance, you were having the toughest time moving, suffering primarily from the weight in your belly and pains in your back and legs that made walking and even standing difficult. What made the physical strain worse too was your child’s eagerness to know you and Thor both, unable to stay long in one position, much like their father’s enthusiasm for battle.

“How are you feeling?” Thor’s question rested upon a rather precise calculation of the last time he had asked the same only a short moment before. It was quite visible in his actions that he did not want to cause any negative feelings if he could help it, though desiring you to avoid stress as much as possible.

You smiled. “Come close. You’ve been standing there for ages just ogling at me.” You opened your arms out wide. “Are you not tired?”

Truth be told, despite Thor’s constant need to remain close to his wife, he felt a real, undeniable fear of touching you, specifically, your abdomen. He closed the distance between until he was right in front of you, staring down at you with hard eyes. Longing leaped like a flame reaching out in his celestial yellow orbs.

“Love, I am always grateful for your concern for me. And I am feeling much better just knowing you’re beside me.” You raised yourself up, pushing against the chair to try to stand. Thor rushed forward, held you then put his hands under your arms to lift you up. Your child was growing fast. “But how about you? How are you feeling?”

You inched closer, your fingers playing with the locks of his hair that you could reach. “Aside from the stress of waiting, I’ve noticed that you have something else weighing on your mind.

“Tell me, what is it?”

At the sight of you through his warworn eyes, his mind was filled with bliss. For that loving glance of yours, he felt a divine presence and holy atmosphere that seemed to pervade everything around you. Having an inkling of what you were hinting at though, he broke your gaze, in an attempt to avert the guilt you conferred on him.

“Please. We’re in this together, I would want nothing more than to help you back as much as you’ve helped me.” Thor felt you shift in his arms, get more comfortable. He felt the bulk of your child across his legs, the weight no doubt pulling you down. Seeing you in pain like that, was sad and unbearable, and the gnawing feeling grew stronger. And since he knew you were always so full of strength and determination, always unrelenting in your attempts to make him feel better, he began,

“I am afraid.” Red eyebrows drew together.

“Afraid of what?”

“That I might accidentally hurt you and our child,” Thor took a deep breath in then let it out in a sigh while taking a step back. “I do not want that to happen, even if I want to be at your side at all times. And this frustrates me to no end.”

Thor did himself a favor by giving attention to anything other than his wife, refusing to be a witness on the sadness and any he may have caused. Dealing with his own disappointment was nothing new, but he had trouble dealing with the fact that he was the cause of yourpain. He wished he could take his troubles which escaped, hanging in the air, and all the bad feelings on himself and let things continue as they were, but he knew it didn’t work that way. You needed to know that he only wanted you and your child safe and protected, even from himself.

He could not understand how the cosmos could play such a cruel joke on the both of you: you, bore so much pain because of one of the greatest affairs of life, and him, the strongest deity in the Pantheon, was powerless against the natural laws of existence.

Strong shoulders slumped, head bowing as stray strands of red hair fell over Thor’s brow. Not again. He did not wish to be reminded of the cautious sympathy his father and cousin had approached him with. His stomach lurched whenever the subject of your frailty came up. Dread and a terrifying fear overwhelmed his soul for the first time, the thought of losing you−

“Hey,” Your voice which lingered on the gentle breeze brushed against Thor’s face, pulling him out of his stupor. He refocused, turning his gaze onto your sweet face.

How were you able to hold yourself up well despite your obvious pain and suffering? Did you not bear the same nervousness as he did? The answer was obvious, practically screaming in Thor’s ears but became deaf following his guilt and clouded instincts. For a long time since you’d first told him about the news, he bore these worries in silence; but when at length he’d been perplexed by your introspection−or seeming lack of it. Why, in fact, did you concern yourself with him at all? Compared to you, there was hardly any threat to his own life posed. Why had you always done more to make him feel better when you were the one who needed it most?

Cutting through the haze he found himself in was the shape of you, or maybe your hair billowing in the wind, a wisp of it across your face, and then suddenly the feel of your skin, the sense of your head on his chest. Even if it were fleeting, that alone brought him the possibilities of comfort that he’d so needed. Oh, how he missed this; you cupped his big callously marble hands around yours, caressing them so tenderly, as if he were fragile and might break, so short it could never be pulled back.

As he relished the warmth of the blaze you gave him for the winter of unease, he’d realized much sooner that the coldness that inched its icy fingers up his spine still threatened to battle your kind words, you, his very own wife, and he detested himself for being unsure whether or not it was of his own doing; was he pushing you away when you’d only wanted to offer your help?

Thor’s immediate impulse was to pull back from you, abruptly halted by your fingers which slipped between his now splayed hand. You wrinkled your nose in a delightfully unguarded manner that caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Do you remember the first time we said our vows?” If only you knew the way Thor perceived you: in his eyes, your radiant smile reflected the morning sunlight of Valhalla, for a split second picturing the moment you’d walked down the aisle, that headpiece on your head instantiating the paradox of mystery that once lifted revealed your beautiful face, marking it the best day of his long life. Something warm bloomed in his chest once again and spread its heat out through every vein in his body. He remembered the smooth feel of the veil against his cheek after sealing your promise with a kiss, his lips parting with a breathless sigh.

“Your hands caressed my fit of nerves with light, tender touches and then inspired me with hard, passionate embraces,” With effortless ease, you lifted your intertwined hands to your mouth and kissed his knuckle. Thor watched with great admiration your every move, the desire to distance himself was now but an afterthought. Nothing would ever separate him from you when all you’d ever done was pull him closer than ever.

Then, you sought out his hand, kissing his palm as he stroked your face. You clung onto his arms, gripped at his chest as if you were searching for warmth, as if you needed his touch, and much like him, couldn’t bear to be even an inch away. His mind was still slowing its racing to let him mutter something in response, so he allowed himself to be entranced by how smooth and sure of yourself you were, with nothing to mar the calm serenity of your features. Your smile seemed to be a natural adornment, the utter gentleness in your eyes, reminded him of every morning when he woke up, he would see you by his side, as well as your sleeping snoring face. Right at that moment, the silly scream finally made it to the deaf god’s ears:

He was your haven,

The place you called home and went to find peace.

As Thor immersed himself in your smell, your sparkling eyes, he felt the excruciating cold all melt away in your warmth. No more seeds of doubt with which to sow and seek his destiny. Slowly, he began to see his surroundings from a keener point of view, realizing, then appraising them: from the passing wind your hair messed which he pushed aside, tucking it behind your ear, to how his sash seemed to fit him better indeed, rather than cling onto his skin even tighter as brutally as it had done before. He noticed the minute changes since he’d last taken a good look at you months ago: a little flusher on your skin, lines around the eyes a little deeper, a little increase in body temperature.

He pulled you closer, his actions not arising from calculation instead led by instinct. You let him take more of your weight, your belly pressed against his stomach as you sighed, his fingers working wonders on massaging the muscles that had been much abused in carrying the baby’s weight. A sudden wrenching through his sash struck Thor’s heart and had him holding his breath.

The baby had moved, and he’d felt it.

Bending down, he buried his nose in your hair, closing his eyes as he drank in your scent. Your arms wrapped around his back as he connected in this loving embrace, feeling his heart beat in rhythm with your own.

“Our child would no doubt love to be enveloped in their father’s safe arms,” With a light, gentle touch, your fingers ran through Thor’s hair, making him shiver with delight.

On that day, only the beautiful gardens of Asgard became privy to nothing more than a moment in which husband and wife reached for the same comfort and their concerns met. These gardens were simultaneously the very same place where Thor had first avoided the problems that plagued his mind, but also became exactly the same place where he’d find solace in the arms of his lovely wife.

Resting his hand on where his child was, he recognized that familiar feeling turning up, but upon realizing the bittersweet irony of and within these gardens, the revelation came to him: happiness could also come from the very object of fear.

And as you had an unmovable trust in him, there was an unspoken mutual understanding that he too, should put his trust in you.

[rae-gar-targaryen]

loved you once [angel reyes x fem!reader]

A/N: So, this is NOT the Angel fic I previewed the other day. That one (and the EZ fic) is STILL COMING, I PROMISE! This just jumped into my head and wouldn’t leave. And I wrote it with a speed I am heretofore unfamiliar with (heretofore? Did I use that right?) I invented a tattoo and an ex-girlfriend for Angel, and I fudged the timeline a bit. So, apologies in advance for that. 

As always, if you want a tag in anything I write for Angel, EZ, the Mayans fandom (or anything else), please feel free to send me a message or an ask, or add yourself to the taglist (link in profile). 

Pairing: Angel Reyes x fem!tattoo artist!reader (as always, the appearance is ambiguous, but the reader is described as having female pronouns/parts. Also, the reader here speaks a bit of Spanish. I’m half Mexican, so I do imagine a latinx reader, but I hope I’ve written this so you can imagine yourself with no restriction.)

Word Count: 15.3K (HAHAHA WHAT THE FUCK all for a TWO AND A HALF MINUTE SONG, ARE YOU KIDDING ME????) of ANGST! (SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO ANGSTY) lyrical nonsense and the remnants of sticky, cotton-candy sadness … fluff that makes you feel empty. 

Warnings: ANGST, non-explicit references to infidelity, sexual references and sexual content, oral (male receiving), fingering and other nastiness -- so 18+ ONLY, please! Canon-typical douchebaggery, references to a past relationship, song references and poetry. (It is me, so yeah, poetry.)

Summary: You and Angel may as well be strangers now. But why? After all, you loved him once. And he loved you, right? Based on the song “Loved you Once” by Clara Mae. Listen here. 

--

We don't need to be best friends, we don't need to hang again. But tell me why we have to be strangers because I loved you once?

What were you doing here? You haven’t been back to the clubhouse in months. Not since -- well, you know. You hadn’t talked to him since then, either. But that wasn’t your own doing. 

No, Angel had erected a veritable wall of silence, and you respected him enough not to breach it. 

That was what relationships were all about, anyway, right? Mutual respect of the other’s needs? So when Angel had told you in no uncertain terms that your relationship was over, you were … upset. Understandably. You wanted to sit with him, talk about where this sudden insistence that you depart his life had come from, but he was resolute. With the absolute air of authority that comes with either a great deal of thought, or borne of virtually sudden external influence, with nothing in between. He clearly didn’t want to sit and talk about it. 

And so you didn’t. 

Ever mindful of his wellbeing, and when he was and was not receptive to communication. 

"It ain't working," he had said. You had settled for merely imagining the faraway look in his large, oilslick eyes, since he was much more interested in staring at his boots and the grooves in his floor, his forearms laid over spread thighs, unmoving and resolute from his spot at the end of the bed. Refusing to meet your eyes. 

From your seat next to him, you made to brush the arm closest to you with your fingers. When you touched, he gave no indication that you were even there. That he even felt you. Which you knew was bullshit. He always felt you. 

"Angel, what --" you hated the way your voice cracked as you tried to ask him what the hell was going on. You hated how you had sounded so small and quavering to your own ears. That wasn't who you were. You were clear, outspoken. It was always one of the things Angel said he loved about you. Loved.

You didn't know this, of course, but Angel hated it, too. How you’d sounded in that moment. Hated that his words had taken the fire out of yours, your voice unfamiliar in its timidity. 

"It ain't working," he repeated. "I can see it. Not my fault you can't." 

That was it. 

No "I'm sorry, querida." 

No "I hope we can stay friends." 

Not that you would expect an apology, or anything as cliché as a "let's be friends," from a steadfast man like Angel. Predictable in his volatility. 

You should have pushed back. Demanded an answer. You hated that you didn’t, the shock and sudden sadness morphing you into a silent, crystalline girl you didn’t recognize. Your eyes welled with tears, turning your head away from where Angel sat -- at least you wouldn’t let him see you cry. Even if you knew he knew the tears had spilled over your lashes and down your cheeks were of his own doing. 

You had arrived back at his place a day after your tense "conversation" to discover that your items you had come to reclaim were tossed into a box and left outside of the door. 

You had knocked once, in the hope that if Angel was home, he’d at least come to the door to shout through it, or, heaven forbid, would open it so you could look him in the eyes just once more while he shattered you. Your knock was met with silence, though you could have sworn you felt Angel on the other side of the door. 

In the months since then, you had cried (obviously), you had questioned (it was sudden, it wasn't just you; your friends were surprised, too), but most importantly, you had persevered. 

You had taken a bunch of new clients and inked some pieces you were incredibly proud of. You had gone out with your friends a few times, always with a wary eye on the door of the local dive, ya know… you never knew who would walk in.

Santo Padre is a small town, after all. And the cracks in your soul were nowhere close to healed. No molten gold to spill in and repair the fissures of your heart, rendering metamorphosis of something broken to something flawed, but beautiful. You sat, alone, still just… flawed. You had never felt less beautiful. Even after all this time. 

And your friend Aneesa, ever the supporter, would stop at nothing if it meant hyping you up enough to leave your cave of blankets, sheet masks, and comfort movies. Your only rule? All nights out with Aneesa were strictly girls’ nights. She was gracious and understanding of this rule, of course. She and Gilly had been together a touch longer than you and Angel. 

And if Angel had ever asked Gilly to ask Aneesa about you? Well… you never heard about it.

Not that Angel would do any of that. Shit like that was so middle-school. 

So, here you were. Back at the clubhouse after months of self-imposed exile for the sake of self-preservation. 

Coco had texted you -- the first you’d directly heard from anyone within Angel’s circle, inviting you to a patch party for some nameless, faceless newbie. The invitation had a string attached to it, of course -- the tattoo artist’s chair in the corner of the clubhouse needed a resident for any partygoers jonesing for new ink. Certainly, the new patch would need something decidedly “Mayan” to show off his new status. 

You had hesitantly agreed -- Aneesa would be in attendance of course, and offered herself as a human-sized buffer to separate you from people you were otherwise hoping to avoid. 

--

Now, perched near the tattoo chair, you busied yourself with setting out your portfolio of completed pieces, sketches and most-requested designs. You wiped down the chair a few more times than strictly necessary, but you wanted to be ready for anyone who might plop themselves down for a new piece of art. 

The main room of the clubhouse was sweltering -- a familiar blend of desert heat, cigarette smoke, citronella, and the smell of citrusy, foamy beer. The dim lighting and thundering bass giving everything a slightly blurry edge in your party-periphery. You glanced across the room at where Aneesa and Gilly sat together on a corner couch, thighs pressed together. Aneesa tossed her head back in a full-bodied laugh at something Gilly had whispered into her ear, swatting his arm -- Gilly’s reciprocal smile demonstrating his pleasure at having garnered such a reaction from his girl. 

A wave of cheers and noise accompanied the thwack of the clubhouse door swinging open -- more Mayans pouring in, jostling one another's shoulders, slapping each other on the arms, and good-naturedly cajoling. 

There was Coco, mid-pull of the cigarette between his lips, quicksilver eyes flashing around the room, taking stock of who was where. EZ followed, million-watt smile on full display as he gently guided a pretty girl with long, inky hair through the bottleneck at the entryway. 

If EZ was ambling his way in, then, surely, not far behind ...

With an arm around a tall, broad guy you hadn’t seen before, was Angel. Midway through a joke with the guy you assumed was the new patch, you took the opportunity to study the man you had once considered the moonlit orbit of your entire world. 

You hated to admit it to yourself, but he looked good… His arms still replete with thick, corded muscle. His hair was a tad longer on top than you remembered, slicked back and belied with cleanly-cropped sides. His smile as warm and blinding as the cruel light at the end of your better dreams, only for you to awake each day alone. 

As you continued your silent study, you were surprised to see -- still adorning his left arm … the tattoo you had given him on the day you had first met. You had thought he would have blacked it out by now … a cover-up on top of a cover-up. 

But there it was --- the soft, leafy greens creeping down his forearm on sharp vines, abutted with bursting blooms -- small, ornate gladiolus buds and a sprig of purpling rosemary. Such a flowery piece on the arm of someone like Angel might have been laughable. But if anyone dared, he would simply stare, stone-faced, with burning eyes and a set jaw, ready to ask just what they thought was so fucking funny. 

To you? It was perfection. It was remembrance. 

‘Cause I loved you, once… 

---

You had moved to Santo Padre from Oakland. Hardly an axis-tilting move, but significant enough to you. 

Your friend Oliver had offered you a seat at his tattoo shop. And you? You were positively itching to get out of the city. A few too many bad nights with a few people you could no longer in good conscience consider friends. 

So, here you sat, resident of one of two chairs in this corner parlour off the so-called “main” drag in sweltering, dusty Santo Padre. 

Your books were pretty clear … Not that you attributed much logic to the ebb and flow in any conceivable pattern of the tide that was tattoo shop patrons, but January seemed an agonizingly slow month. You filled the idle time with keeping the shop neat, disinfecting and re-disinfecting every surface, and organizing Oliver’s books. 

And if you weren’t dreaming up new sketches and designs for the more adventurous prospective client, you were jotting idle lines of lyrical poetry in the margins of your sketchbook. 

If the month dragged on like this, you were sure you could publish an entire book of moody, mid-winter prose that would make Charles Bukowski want to drown himself in stiff Cabernet. 

The dinging of the bell above the parlour door yanked you from your doodling stupor. You looked up to see who had come in, your gaze met with a towering, golden-skinned man donned in a leather vest, his boots squeaking on the shop’s linoleum floor as he made his way to the front desk. He leaned over it and rapped his silver-ringed hand against the top with the ease and comfort of someone who had been in many times before. If the ink trailing his arms was any indication, he may as well be a regular, though you hadn’t seen him in before. There was no way you could forget that jawline, and those shoulders. 

“Yo,” he called in greeting, eyes flashing to where you stood, walking to meet him at the counter. You swore you saw his gaze dart over your form, giving you the old up-down. An easy smile graced his full lips as he made himself comfortable leaning against the counter.  

“Oliver here?” 

You shook your head, the action serving to answer his question and --hopefully-- clear your head of the foggy spell this man was casting over you with his presence alone.

“Nah, sorry. He’s guest-chairing at his buddy’s shop in L.A. Did you have an appointment?” 

“I look like the kind of guy with a datebook?” He chuckled at his own joke. “No appointment, corazón.” 

“Walk-in? Always a risky strategy,” you lilted. 

“What can I say? I’m a risk-taker,” he replied with the practiced ease of breezy flirtation. 

You smiled softly, grabbing Oliver’s calendar from the desk, flipping to the following week. “He’ll be back in next week, if you want to wait?” 

“That’s no good for me, babe, I’ll be out of town.”

“Ah.” You huffed a bit through your nose “Bike rally?” You asked, gesturing at his worn leather kutte, cringing internally a little at the teasing edge your voice had taken on. Were you always this bad of a flirt? 

The man looked at you shrewdly for a beat -- seemingly trying to discern just how much fun you were making of him before taking mercy on you and peeling back the slight layer of awkwardness the conversation had taken.  He scrubbed the back of his neck before confirming,

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he rumbled a chuckle. “Why? You wanna go?” He raised a full brow at you in a mild challenge. 

Your eyes widened at his seemingly-serious invitation. You took in the quirk of his lips, causing the slightest crinkle at the corner of his warm eyes -- the look of a man borne of good humor and who smiled often. It was endearing, and if you were honest, made you melt a little. Even if you now realized he was teasing you. 

“Sorry, guapo,” you cracked a smile of your own, gesturing at the empty shop. “As you can see, I’m a very busy girl. Highest of demand.” 

“Claro,” he replied. “So, I better get in while the getting’s good, huh? Your chair open now?” 

“Uhm,” you chewed your lower lip, now slightly nervous at the prospect of spending more time with this man. “¿Quieres esperar para Olí? I won’t be offended. You haven��t even seen any of my pieces.” 

A beat of silence passed between you both, the man seemingly weighing his options. 

"I mean," You broke the silence and leaned forward, lightly tapping a fingernail against his bicep. “What if my art style doesn’t suit the king of the bikers?” 

"Something tells me you'll suit me just fine." His smirk was full-bore now. He didn't miss a beat, did he?

You were silent, probably for a few moments too long. Was he actually flirting with you? You blinked. He probably flirts with everyone ... get over yourself, you internally chided.

"Angel," the man said, recovering the moment and holding out a large, ringed hand for you to shake. You gave him your name, shaking his hand firmly. 

You nodded your head over your shoulder, toward your chair. 

"Well, come on back, Angel, you can tell me about what we're doing today."

Angel followed you back to your station, and you could swear you felt his dark eyes on your form as you walked, the thought that this man was looking at you with any kind of discerning attention made your cheeks warm a little. He folded his long body into the chair you gestured toward, and you took the rolling seat next to him. He proffered his left arm to you, tracing down a spot on his forearm.

"Just wanna cover this up," he paused, letting you observe the offending ink. "It's about time." 

"'Clara Forever,' huh?" You took in the faded, loopy lettering down his forearm. "Who's Clara?" Your tone was gently teasing by nature, but he seemed to clam up a bit at the question, regarding your sharp tongue with sharper eyes.

"Well, it wasn't forever," he finally bit out, shoulders now a little more tense than before.

"Aw, cariño," you sighed in good-natured taunting. "Didn't anyone ever tell you the number one rule of tattoo? 'Forever' is a certain jinx. And a name is almost never a good idea… unless it's your dog's."

You made a sweeping hand gesture over the rest of his person, your eyes noticeably cataloguing the ink adorning most of the real estate on his arms and what little you could see of the top of his chest. 

"How did anyone let you get this far without telling you the rules?"

He relaxed at the humor in your soft voice, comfortable now that he had confirmation that you were teasing him rather than seriously ridiculing. His posture relaxed once more, he waggled his eyebrows at you, also teasing,

"Le sorprendería saber que nunca fui uno para seguir las reglas?” He asked. Would it surprise you to learn that I was never one for rules? 

"¿Tú?" Your eyes widened in mock surprise. “Para nada.” Not at all.  

"Hey," he swatted your arm gently. "Cuidaté, niña. Insulting your customers? I can see why your chair is empty." He chuckled at his own little jab as you busied yourself gathering your supplies.

You turned and reached for him, holding his arm in one hand and running your now-gloved thumb over "Clara Forever." 

"So?" You queried, "What are we doing with this? How do you want to cover it?" 

Angel shrugged, the leather adorning his shoulders creaking ever-so-slightly with the movement. 

"Figured I would just black it out. I've been putting it off long enough. To hell with her anyway, yaknow?"

"Hmm…" you considered his proposal. "I could do that, if that's what you really want. Easy enough. But…" you trailed.

He shifted in the chair, arching an eyebrow at you.

"But?" He pressed.

Now it was your turn to shrug. You released his arm from your grip and gestured to the booklet containing photos of your most prized work. 

"Why waste the opportunity to give yourself something you really want?" You handed him the book. "Besides… from the looks of things, you have limited real estate left on this arm. May as well fill it with something… more you?” You made to hand him the scrapbook. “You can see what else I've done. See if anything sparks an idea." 

Angel regarded you for a moment. Leaning forward in the chair and slightly more into your space, eyes never leaving yours. He took the edge of the book, deliberately brushing his fingers over yours as he did so, making you hold your breath a little. If Angel noticed, he had the decency not to say anything. 

“Why not?”

You exhaled softly as he leaned away again, flipping his way through your book. 

As he scrutinized the photographic renderings of your pieces, you took the chance to really take him in. His strong jaw and full lips were objectively pleasant, abutted by deliberately-shaped facial hair. He had a prominent brow, something that would surely give away his feelings, even if he decided not to verbalize them. There was no hiding a frown or a smile on that face.  You fiddled with your fingers as he flipped through the pages. 

“This is some seriously top-notch shit, querida,” he voiced his approval, followed by a warm smile. He flipped his way through your minimalist renderings, floral pieces, lines of script, and one particularly involved piece with a burgundy phoenix and lifelike flames...

“Yeah?” You couldn’t hide the pleasure in your voice that he might think of you in a positive light. “Which one do you like?” 

He flipped the book to you, gesturing at a geometric planetary canvas piece you had etched down a prior client’s thigh. 

“Did you think of that one?” 

“The client had their ideas, I just execute, I guess… That was a fun one.” You shrugged, glancing at your shoes scuffing at the linoleum, suddenly feeling very shy under his scrutiny.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he leaned forward once more, his fingers gently brushing along your chin to bring your eyeline to his. “Don’t downplay your talent. You’re a badass. Own that shit.” He gave you a soft wink, releasing your chin from his grip.

Um, wow.

Was it always this hot in the back of the shop? Or were you just spontaneously combusting? Did that seriously just happen?

All you could do was nod. 

“Aight,” he crossed his legs at the ankles, making himself comfortable in the chair. “I’ve decided.” 

“Yeah?” You breathed, “What’ll it be?” 

As if he was doing nothing more complicated than ordering fries, Angel pointed at your book. “Dealer’s choice.” 

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t believe he was just going to trust you to cover up his ex’s name etched into his arm. “¡Oye! Did you hear nothing I said earlier about walk-ins being risky? Nothing about the rules?”

Angel scoffed. “About as well as you heard that I don’t give a shit about rules, babe,” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You like rules, huh?” 

Oh. The rumbling tone his voice had taken on with his last question did not go unnoticed by you. If there was any heat to spare in this shithole desert-town, it was now one hundred percent flooding through your body. 

But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d had that effect on you… (although, let’s be real, he probably, definitely, already knew).

“Fine, Angelito,” the mocking tone had returned to your voice. “But unlike Clara, this one’s gonna be forever. If I find out you cover up my art, I’m gonna blacklist you at every shop in Southern California.” You raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. “Can you live with that?”

Angel nodded. 

“Do your worst, Vince.” 

You wrinkled your nose at the moniker. “Vince?” 

“Yeah,” he seemed so assured in his own cleverness. “Like Van Gogh?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Van Gogh!?” You feigned offense, hand-over-heart, lashes batting. “Not even Frida? Come oooon, Angelito.” 

He chuckled. Shifting in the chair and offering his arm to you so you could get him ready. 

“You gotta earn ‘Frida,’ dulcita.” 

“Everyone’s a critic,” you sigh, shifting your focus and taking stock of the space on Angel’s arm and what you had learned of him so far.

Someone who was seemingly confident and breezy, whose rough exterior belied something softer that was just out of reach. Someone who clearly cherished things and people he adored, if the tribute you were now covering was anything to go by. And, by the same token, more than a little impulsive. He wore his heart on his sleeve, apparently literally. 

You gathered your inks and began to work, your playlist and the buzzing of the tattoo gun filling the silence. 

It’s not like you had any reason to know it, but Angel considered you as you were working, admiring your focus and the intensity with which you afforded your art. Was he a little nervous about the fact that you were free-handing a design for him off the top of your head? Maybe... But what was life without a little risk? And he certainly wouldn’t mind a little risk with you. You were, it was obvious to him, very pretty. It was more than a little off-putting how easily you traded quips with him, seemingly unaffected by his presence and everything that came with it. If it wasn’t for the little hitches in your breath when he gently flirted with you, he wouldn’t have anything to go off of in terms of your interest. Something that was both respectable and maddening to him. 

He reached his other arm over to the side-table, grabbing your sketchbook and idly flipping through the etchings. 

Not only was the book filled with little designs, splashes of watercolor mixing with pen and charcoal, but he noticed the cramped words in the margins, perusing at his leisure and ignoring the itching buzz of the needle on the skin of his other arm.

“So, not only a Vince, but a Frost,” he broke the silence. 

You paused your work, wiping your brow with the back of your hand and looking at him with a question in your eyes.

He tapped his finger along the lines of prose in your book. “A poet,” he said. 

“Ah,” you said. “Uhm, more like a bad poet,” you chuckled, embarrassed. You made to begin again, when Angel gently gripped the wrist of your free hand. 

“The fuck did I just say?” He lightly tugged, forcing you to look into his maddeningly honey-dark eyes. “Don’t brush off your shit. Would Frida do that?” 

You regarded his eyes for a moment longer, darting your gaze to his pouty lips, resolutely set in their mission of imparting some of his confidence onto you. 

“Point taken, Angel,” you pulled your hand from his grip, which he released, trailing his fingertips over your hand as he did so. “I’m the greatest poet who ever lived, you’ve convinced me. Fuck William Shakespeare.” 

“Yeah,” Angel boisterously agreed, pleased to be bolstering you but surprising you with the little barking shout, “Fuck that dude!” 

You chuckled, shaking your head and silently returning to your work, the silence filled once more with the pleasant buzzing as you drew away. 

When you were finished, you released Angel’s arm, allowing him to inspect the clean lines of the greenery that you had drawn out of his former-love tribute. What were once loopy, cursive letters were now vines creeping steadily along his forearm, soft, yellow and red gladiolus buds emerging from where Clara’s name had once sat, neatly finished with the clean lines of the purpling sprig of rosemary along the edge of the piece. 

Angel was speechless, leaving you to marinate in your nerves. 

“It’s …” he started, “... flowery,” he supplied, lamely. 

“No shit it’s flowers,” you shot back, feeling a little defensive now, but wanting to make a quick recovery. “And they’re for you, Angel.” 

He seemed puzzled. 

“Gotta say, Vince, this is the first time a chick’s gotten me flowers,” he chuckled, “Guess they won’t die?” 

“They won’t,” you assured. “They really are for you, you know? Look at you, the rest of your ink. What it covered. You’re clearly a man formed by your experiences. It only seemed right, si? Gladiolus? They’re for remembrance. Rosemary? Symbolizes thoughtfulness and memory.” 

You continued as you began wipe the piece clean before wrapping it in new saran-wrap, “Your memories and choices make you who you are, sure. But you never know… something good could bloom from them, through the cracks."

His silence at the end of your little soliloquy was deafening. He hated it, you were sure of it. Fuck. Why did you have to get so fucking clever with him? You should’ve just done some black ink in something tribal, something masculine. What the fuck was wrong with you??

You dared to sneak a glance at his face, only to find that he was already staring at you, lips softly upturned in the hinting bloom of a smile, tarpit eyes twinkling with a good-natured mirth he would come to reserve just for you. 

“Fuck Shakespeare. That was damn beautiful, Frida.” 

The heat had returned to your cheeks, standing quickly. 

You stripped off your gloves, and made to turn your way to the counter, gathering the aftercare sheet and balm for Angel to take with him. 

You spun back toward him before he could get up.

“Oh! Can I take a picture?” You held up your phone, shaking it lightly. “For the ‘gram?” 

“Sure thing,” Angel dutifully held his arm under the lamp you had used to work, letting the fresh ink and colors pop against the golden dunn of his skin. 

You took a few photos, deciding to scroll through your camera roll later on and post your favorite. You made quick work of wrapping his arm in a sheet of clean plastic wrap before relinquishing your hold on his arm, turning to walk back to the counter. 

“Uhm,” you trailed … the telltale squeak of Angel’s boots on the linoleum indicating he was following you back to the front of the shop. You assembled everything into a bag for Angel to take with him, grabbing one of your cards from the front card-holder, and quickly jotting your number on the back next to your where the instagram handle for your art page was neatly printed, hoping he didn’t notice your sneaky little move. 

Angel resumed his comfortable lean against the counter, turning and tilting his forearm, scrutinizing your work. 

“It’s gonna be a clean one-fifty, Angel.”

He looked slightly surprised at the figure, a light frown dusting his features. 

“You sure about that? For the size, and the color, and time and everything? It’s been, like, hours.”

You shrugged. 

“We’ll call it the friends-and-family rate.” 

He gave you a long look, very clearly looking you up and down now, a prolonged edition of the greeting he had graced you with when he had entered your shop mere hours before. 

“And is that what we are now, querida? Friends?” 

How was it even possible for his voice to reach such a low register when he said these things to you?

While your insides flip-flopped at the flirtation, you hoped your face was the impassive mask you were trying to school it into. You subtly brushed your slightly-sweating palms against the frayed hem of your shorts before bringing an elbow up to the counter, resting your chin in your palm, lightly batting your lashes at him before responding...

“Sure,” you replied. There! Easy, breezy, cool-as-you-please. How does it feel, Angel?

“One day with you and friends already?” He rapped his ringed hand gently against the counter. “Can’t wait to see where we’re at tomorrow.” 

He swiped the bag off of the counter, tossing a few crisp bills onto the countertop and a wink over his shoulder before exiting the shop. 

You counted the bills on the counter, watching as Angel left the building.

Holy shit.

Three hundred bucks. He had tipped you 100 percent of what you charged him.

Cheeky.

Maybe Santo Padre wasn’t so bad, after all… 

---

Now, staring at him from across the room made you feel like you were drowning in the sickly-sweet cotton candy of sugared dreams, now lost to time. The saccharine balm melted to acrid wax, leaving you with only the tinge of bitterness. 

You were jostled out of your reverie by the sudden appearance of EZ’s blocky frame, ambling toward you with the same girl from before on his arm. 

He greeted you with a slow wave and a soft smile. 

“Hey, girl,” he greeted, clearly unsure of how much friendlier and closer he should approach you. 

You took mercy on Angel’s sweet, (big) little brother, opening your arms slightly for a hug. EZ took to the gesture like an over-excited golden retriever, scooping you up and spinning you once, before putting you back where he found you, slightly dizzier than you were before. 

He offered your name to the girl by his side, who looked pleasantly amused at the spectacle before her, her amusement melting to recognition at the name EZ had imparted to her. 

Ah. So she knew who you were. 

You tried not to let that realization sour your encounter, easing a practiced smile onto your features and offering your hand to the girl to shake. 

“Oh!” EZ chuckled. “This is Gaby -- er, Gabriela.” 

“Encantada,” you eased, gently shaking her hand before having a realization of your own. “Gaby, as in Leti’s friend?” 

She nodded, a warm smile illuminating her already sunshiney features. You could see why EZ obviously liked her. She had the practiced social grace of a debutante, but the friendly aura of someone you had known for your entire life. 

“I hope you’re keeping Ezekiel out of trouble,” you teased gently. 

“Only as well as I can,” she replied. EZ rubbed the back of his neck as you two gossiped about him like he wasn’t standing right there. 

“Listen, hermanita,” EZ began, swirling the dregs of his beer around the bottle clutched in his hand as the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence, “About Angel --” 

That was a hard no. 

“Coco!” You called as you spotted the lithe man prowling through the crowd after obtaining a drink from the bar, effectively shutting EZ up. 

Coco sidled over, slinging an arm over your shoulder and nodding in greeting to EZ and Gaby. 

“Wassup, chiquita? Over here with all the cool kids?” 

“You know damn well I was never cool enough for the cool kids,” you knocked your shoulder into Coco’s good-naturedly. 

“Dunno about that, pequeña,” Coco took a drag of his cigarette, sighing as he exhaled. “I’ve got some pretty cool body armour thanks to you.” 

“All in a day's work,” you mock-saluted. You were doing great. Keep it light, keep it friendly. You may be able to make it out of this unscathed, after all. 

Gaby and EZ were speaking softly to one another just to your side, as you and Coco continued your conversation. 

“So, who’s the new guy?” You asked, nodding over to where Angel and the still-unnamed newbie were tossing back shots. You tried to ignore that each one had girls placed on each of their laps. Well, mostly you were trying to ignore one girl placed on one lap; tried to ignore as ringed fingers trailed up and down her thigh hypnotically as he howled in laughter at something the new guy had said. 

The longer you stared at the way he was touching her, the more You thought you could feel it on your own skin. And you knew all too well how that touch felt. Memories, make you, right? 

You blinked harshly, turning your face back to Coco’s, only to find his hawkish eyes trained on you as he continued to smoke. Now you were certain he had seen everything you had, and more. And you cursed yourself for slipping. Because nothing slipped past Coco. 

He took mercy on you nevertheless. 

“Andres. He’s aight. You may not remember him from before, when he was just a prospect.” 

“Guess not,” you agreed, shrugging amiably, suddenly very interested in toying with the hem of your flowy little summertime skirt. 

“Mierda,” you heard Coco hiss, glancing up to see none other than the new guy -- Andres -- walk over, his arm around the waist of the girl from his lap, accompanied by none other than Angel Reyes, furnished with his own lap-turned-arm candy. She was giggling in his ear, popping her gum and bumping her hips against Angel’s as she walked by his side. 

You felt EZ stiffen from your other side. 

Great. 

The easy smile you’d had when conversing with Coco now felt positively screwed into place, settling unnaturally, a stranger's face made up of your own features. 

Andres smirked at you in greeting, eyes trailing over you -- the most unwelcome iteration of that gesture in this context to-date. 

“I hear you’re the girl to see about some ink.” 

You bit back the snarky response that rose to your tongue. You see anyone else here, tonto?

“Sure am,” you replied, cool as you pleeeeaseeee. Maybe a little too cool. The ice in your voice was obvious to everyone except the strangers before you. 

You really were doing great, weren’t you? 

“Great,” the new meat brushed the girl off from his side, plopping unceremoniously into your chair. “You did that right?” He pointed behind you to where Angel was standing, gesturing at his arm and your miniscule mural of memorial greenery. 

“Cierto.” You nodded, sparing Angel’s arm the barest of glances.

“Aight, well, none of that girly shit, alright, sweetheart? Angel may have had the good grace not to say anything, but flowers ain’t really my style, yeah?” 

What the fuck.  

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Coco visibly tense next to you, obviously displeased at the uncalled-for critique of your work. Of a piece he himself had often admired. He would never admit it, but he thought the story behind it was even better. It’s like you had walked out of some shitty romcom Leti watched with her tittering friends and into Angel’s dreams, sinking yourself beneath Angel's skin like a dream he would recount to all of his friends. Coco knew the most about you by nature of Angel's second-hand stories when you were together. Although Coco thought, once he had met you, Angel's stories didn't do you justice. How wonderful and talented you were. How warm and welcoming.

Angel watched the exchange silently, clearly none too keen to defend the piece you had designed for him. That had come to mean so much to you. 

That stung.

You winced, almost imperceptibly. But you were certain Coco saw it, not much escaping his sniper’s eyes. EZ, with his owlish perception and photographic memory, certainly would have seen it, too. If Angel saw it, it’s not like he was going to say anything now. 

Where the fuck was Aneesa? Wasn’t she supposed to be heading this kind of shit off? You glanced over at the couches in the corner where your friend had previously been sitting with GIlly, and was now nowhere to be seen. Fuckin’ typical. 

“Aight, no más flores." No more flowers. “What were you thinking, then?” 

That was you, ever the professional. 

Andres showed you his phone, a rendering of an old-style beastly cat, like a panther from an old folktale, pulled up in his image search. 

“Something for a warrior,” he puffed his chest slightly. “I was thinking here,” he shrugged out of one side of his new kutte, tugging the button-up to expose one side of his chest. 

“You got it.” 

You set to work, cleaning the area to be inked and getting your tools ready. The rest of the group drifted as the project progressed, clearly not feeling the need to stand there for the entire duration of a tattoo. 

You were acutely aware that Angel hadn’t stepped as far away as the others, circumventing the periphery of yours and Andres’ space, not close, but not far. And he still had yet to even look in your direction. Or acknowledge your existence. 

You tried your best to ignore the icy shard of Angel’s indifference that was currently wedging its way between your ribs and lodging itself firmly once more into your heart. At this point, you guessed it would never heal. 

“Sooooo,” Andres lolled his head to the side of his chair to face you, slinging back the beer from the bottle dangling in his free hand. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You were around a little bit when I was prospecting.” 

You opted not to respond, aware that Angel was likely listening, and you would need to choose any words carefully. Andres had no such reservation, clearly uncaring about who might be listening. He pressed on, each word more infuriating than the last. 

“You were Angel’s little sidepiece for a while, right?”   

You tried to keep your despairing sigh to a quiet little nothing. 

“Sure.” You offered lamely. “Sorry, man, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really work better when I’m not talking.” 

“S’alright, jaina. I can talk enough for the both of us.” 

You hmm’d nonchalantly at that, lip imperceptibly curling over your teeth in distaste at the moniker. You chose instead to focus on the piece. You wouldn’t give a shitty tattoo, even if this guy was a douchebag. And the pleasant buzz of the tattoo gun. Maybe you were etching the lines a little sharper than strictly necessary. If he noticed, Andres gave no indication, continuing on with his diatribe: 

“So, what happened? I mean, Angel knocked that other chick up? Ouch, right?” 

You were now seeing red, the edges of your vision blurring slightly with angry, pinpricking tears. Thank fuck you were just about done with this. 

“But that’s the life right? I mean, we’re not exactly known for being steady with just one chick. You know how it goes ...” He eyed you up and down again, lingering a little too long on your legs before finishing his thought with a smirk “... Clearly.” 

You hated his use of “we,” like he was in any way, shape, or form worthy to be in the class of man EZ, Coco, Bishop, or, hell, even Angel, was. None of them would talk to you like this. No matter what Angel had done. 

You shut off the gun, pushing back from the space with Andres, spinning in your chair, and grabbing the clean wipes for Andres’ fresh ink. As you dabbed the area and made to bandage it, the oblivious biker grabbed your wrist. None of the teasing fun or gentleness in the same gesture that Angel had imparted when you had first met. No, Andres’ grip hurt. It was all bruising possession and entitlement. 

“I think we would have fun, you and I.” He leaned forward and far too into your space, the stale stink of warm beer heavy on his breath. 

You wrenched your grip from his, standing quickly and offering him a tight smile, cheeks flaming with your anger and embarrassment. How dare he speak so trivially of your relationship with Angel. How dare he think you were so easily won with his kutte and shitty attitude. 

“Uhm,” you tugged your fingers agitatedly through the ends of your hair, chewing your lip. “You’re all set, Andres. Aftercare sheet is on the table next to you. It’s on the house. Happy patch party!” Your voice sounded so shrill and fake in your own head, but you just didn’t have it in you to care at the moment. 

With that, you quickly whirled on your heel, in a distressed flurry past the Angel-shaped blur who had been watching the entire encounter, and out of the clubhouse door into the cooler late-night air. 

Getting heavy to breathe in this room together. It’s so awkward, we can’t seem to do it better. Can’t we just fake a smile and put our shit to the side? 

---

Angel had waited a whopping 18 hours to text you after your clandestine tattooed meet-cute. 

You were in the middle of exchanging consultation e-mails with a prospective client when your phone had buzzed. 

“Vince?” The text read. 

You bit back a smirk before responding,

“Vince? No Vince here. This is Frida’s phone.”

You watched as the little bubbles appeared in the corner, disappeared for a second, and then reappeared. You were grateful for the little manifestation of Angel’s hesitance. It made him seem more human. And it made you appreciative that he was clearly trying to choose his words with you, when words had seemed to come so easily to him when you had met. 

“My bad. Oh, beautiful, talented Frida.” 

You couldn’t hold back the smile on your features now. Grateful it was still you and only you in the shop so that no one could see your “obviously-texting-a-cute-guy” face. 

“It’s nice to hear from you, Angel. Good thing you didn’t throw away the card.” 

“That card was clearly a gift, querida. Much like the pretty flowers on my arm.” He snapped you a picture of his tattoo, the healing process underway. 

“Looks great!” You sent, cringing at your lack of ability to effectively flirt via text. It was something that your friends had teased you relentlessly about back in the Town -- your notorious lack of game. No! New home, new you! Be cute. Be cute. 

“So, if I’ve given you all the gifts, what do I get?” You sent with a “thinking” emoji. 

Angel at least had the decency to wait a minute or two before replying, either thinking about his response or keeping you in suspense… you weren’t sure. But you were grateful for the little opportunity to catch your breath. How did he make you so speechless when he wasn’t even in the room with you? Some things just weren’t fair. 

“Niña, I paid you for this ink. What more could you possibly want from me?” 

Tricky Angel. Zorro. Like a little fox, he had effectively maneuvered the conversation back to you -- the ball was in your court. Would you tell him what you wanted?

You chewed the end of your fingernail thoughtfully before responding. 

“You texted me, boy. Are you sure it isn’t you who wants something?”

If only your friends could see you now. That was damn smooth. 

“Boy?” 

You snorted to yourself. Trust a guy like Angel to get hung up on something small like that. The bubbles reappeared. 

“I was thinking about this pretty girl I met the other day. Hell of an artist. But a shit poet. Thought I would see if she was free sometime?” 

Angel was merciful. You could kiss him. Had he seriously just taken all the weight out of this conversation? Your heart felt a million pounds lighter in your chest, knowing he was asking you. The wave of relief that he wanted to see you again crashed through you, replaced in the tide with the backdraft of a feeling of mischievousness. You wouldn’t let him off so easily.

So you waited before responding. Let him sweat a little, right?

Only… you weren’t sure Angel was sweating as much as you were, fingers itching with the desire to text him back and accept immediately. 

When what had felt like an eternity (but in reality had only been about seven minutes) had passed, you picked up your phone, opening the conversation with Angel. 

“She’s free next Thursday … After your bike week, el rey de los bandoleros.” 

You put your phone back down on the counter, grinning like an idiot, feeling like you had just swallowed a bunch of bubbles. You entertained the notion that if your combat boots weren’t keeping your feet weighted to the floor, you would have floated away. 

Your phone dinged once more.

“See you then, mi reina.” 

Time passes slowly the more you want it to go quickly. And whenever you have a deadline you’re dreading, it gallops ahead. Time really is that bitch, and she does not give a fuck about your feelings. 

The following Thursday felt like it took a year to arrive. But it found you closing up the shop, your stomach fluttering with butterflies and pop rocks, adorned in your favorite pair of jeans and boots, a clean, flattering tank top that showed off your own ink. You hoped it was fine for whatever Angel had in mind. 

Honestly, he hadn’t said anything about your date. A few flirtatious texts here and there? Obviously. You sent him photos of the pieces you had done for new clients. He sent you ridiculous selfies and a couple of group pics of him and his friends at the biker event. One guy who kept popping up in the photos, Angel had told you, was his “little” brother. But there was nothing “little” about that dude. 

You loved seeing all of Angel’s goofy, smiling faces. Treasuring the photos in your small moments of quiet downtime. 

The rumbling of a bike engine greeted your ears, like the seductive purr of a large cat. You glanced up, a full Cheshire grin alighting your features at the sight of Angel’s gorgeous, deep forest green bike, and the man of the hour looking very at home on the seat. 

He rolled to a stop in front of you, unclipping his helmet and dismounting with his winning trademark smirk, ambling over to greet you. 

“Frida,” he scooped you into a hug, his tall frame causing you to lift, your toes now barely brushing the ground as he brought you to his height. He pressed a soft kiss to your check, setting you down gently and letting you get your bearings, chuckling pleasantly at the obvious, dizzying effect his greeting had had on you.

“Angelito,” you returned. “Back in one piece?”

“Hail to the king, baby,” he countered. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, scuffing the toe of your boot into the gravel of the lot. “So, where are you taking me, o benevolent one?”

“Just gonna hafta find out.” He handed his helmet to you, helping you clip and tighten it beneath your chin. “Ever ridden before?”

“Uhm, well, sure” you replied too assuredly, quickly realizing your slip. “I mean, no. Not like that. I mean, yes, like that. But not on one of these.” Fuck. Could you be more embarrassing? 

Angel released a full-bellied laugh at your response, his head tossing back a little. 

“You’ll have to tell me more about alla that later, cielo.” You put your head in your palm willing the embarrassment to go away. Angel quickly pried your hands away, cupping your cheeks with his own warm hands, long fingers brushing your cheekbones reverently. “In the meantime, just hang on, okay?” 

You nodded, still cursing your idiot-brain that had partnered with the dirtiest corners of your mind to take over your mouth. Shut the fuck up, dumb-dumb. 

You clung to Angel as he drove, your hands roaming his firm torso probably a little too-familiarly. You enjoyed the way the wind whipped around you, tugging at yours and Angel’s clothes as you made your way up the canyon overlooking the desert that was Santo Padre. 

Angel parked his bike on the ridge overlooking the town, the sun beginning its descent in the desert sky in swirling hues of pastels and cotton candy pink-purple-blue overtaking the orange hue. 

You had never been up here before, and you told Angel as much. He looked pleased at that, pleased that he was the one to show you the best view of the Santo Padre sunset. 

Angel busied himself unpacking the bags on the side of his bike while you enjoyed the scenery. Pulling out a couple of wrapped sandwiches and bottles of water, he handed yours to you, coming to stand next to you on the ridge. 

"Thanks," you acknowledged, looking at the offerings. "What, no beer?"

Angel chuckled a little at that.

"I ain't tryna liquor you up, niña. Besides, you want warm beer that's been rattling around on my bike all afternoon?"

You crinkled your nose a little at that. "No," you decided. "Never mind. Besides, I'm more of a whiskey girl."

Angel glanced at you, sipping on his own water idly.

"Really?"

"Really," you confirmed. "Don't tell me you're one of those guys who thinks it's impressive when a girl drinks whiskey because it's such a 'man thing.' "

Angel held up one hand, defensively. 

"Nunca. Just took you for more of a… dunno? Maybe a rum kinda girl?"

"Don't think so. For now, though? Water and sandwiches do me just fine. Whiskey can come later." You took a bite of the now-unwrapped sandwich. "This is good," you confirmed around a slightly-full mouth. "Did you make this?"

"Of course. Pop owns the butcher shop down the street from your parlour. Sliced the meat myself, an' all," he said, a little proudly now that he knew you approved of his sandwich-making skills.

"Bueno," you giggled. "Thank you for this, Angel. Really. This is one of the nicest nights I've had since moving here." You shuffled a little closer to where he was standing, looking in his eyes as you thanked him.

"Bah," he waved away your compliments, "it ain't alla that. This can't be the most exciting thing you've done since getting here."

"Maybe it is," you pressed. "I dunno. Maybe I'm too boring for the king of the bikers?"

"I doubt that very seriously, querida," he turned his body so he was facing you now, sandwich long gone, fiddling with the water bottle in his hands. "You play your cards right, I'll introduce you to the rest of the club. Then things'll get really exciting."

You blinked. One date and he already was thinking about introducing you to his friends? Your inner shy romantic (okay, not so "inner," right? You're pretty clear about who you are) was doing little somersaults in your chest. 

You must've been silent a beat too long because Angel was quick to supplement, "Only if you want."

"I'd like that," you confirmed, nodding and smiling gently. 

"So, are you gonna tell me what brings an East Bay girl here?" 

You raised a brow. You didn't remember telling him where you moved from. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck nervously, realizing you'd caught his slip. 

"I maaaay have scrolled your Instagram?"

You finished your sandwich, thinking about how much you wanted to tell him.

"Just time for a change of scenery. Olí is an old friend, and he offered me a job. I think he wants to travel more." You shrugged, "It just felt like it was time. Plus, I dunno… I like it here. Much quieter."

Angel nodded at that, not having the heart to tell you that his club was not at all quiet and was the source of the disruption in the otherwise-quaint town. 

You kept talking, telling him about the friends you'd left behind, your old shop, weekends spent in the park surrounding Lake Merritt, and going to Raiders games. Angel took in your features as you spoke, the golden light of the sunset making you glow like something out of a dream he'd had once. Your eyes sparkled as you talked about things you loved, the books and art that inspired your poetry. How you'd gone to art school. You were something.

"-- Sorry, I'm rambling," you breathed in a rush, flush with the amount of talking you'd been doing in a record amount of time. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?"

Angel realized he'd been staring as long as you'd been talking.

"No, querida. Nothing in your teeth." He gave you a dazzlingly white smile.

"Oh thank God," you returned his smile with a small one of your own, shying a little under his gaze, and wondering how long he had been looking at you like that as you'd talked.

He leaned over you now, his height giving him the definite advantage as he'd -- not unwelcomely-- invaded your space. He brought one hand up to cup your chin, his dark eyes revealing flecks of sparkling gold in the pastel wash of the sunset as his gaze once again met yours.

You saw his quick glance down at your lips, you unconsciously giving a small nod before his warm lips met yours.

Oh.

You had obviously been kissed before, been the recipient of past romantic attention. All of that paled in comparison, melting away as Angel's full lips maneuvered over yours, both of his large, calloused hands gently brushing your cheeks as he cupped your face, sliding one hand down to rest on the side of your neck.

You sighed lightly, one of your own hands twined into his shirt, the other resting on the side of his firm torso. 

Angel took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, your own brushing against his as the kiss deepened.

 You were in no hurry for the kiss to end, enjoying the way everything about Angel was so warm, something that was surprisingly welcome, despite the ever-present desert heat of Santo Padre. You could get used to this. 

You had only known Angel a short time, realistically. Your one meeting spawning a series of flirtatious texts and snaps, and now this date that, while low-key, felt almost too perfect to be real. He made you feel safe, desired.

You could already feel him slipping beneath your skin to rest in a special place in your heart. And while you as a person were generally reticent to share that part of yourself with anyone, you had a feeling Angel could take up permanent residence there. If he wanted. 

You dropped from your tip-toes, effectively breaking the kiss.

Angel blinked, looking down at you and noting the pleasant glow on your skin, lips now slightly swollen from his kiss. He could get used to this.

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur, trading quips and stories as the sun went down. Angel told you about his club, his brothers. About his pop and Ezekiel, and how at one time, he enjoyed being the bigger brother, teasing, pranking and lording over EZ until EZ had hit his growth spurt and could (and would) definitely hit back. 

As he drove you home, you snuggled a little bit against him, pressing yourself into his back and enjoying the way you swore you could feel his heart pounding through the kutte and over the rumble of the bike and the road.

He'd dropped you off with a parting kiss and the promise of another date.

Another date turned into several. Time you weren't at the shop was now spent with Angel, showing him what you were working on, inviting him over for dinners and to watch mindless television while he told you what he could about his day. 

The both of you were slowly peeling back the layers around your respectively guarded hearts, revealing more of yourselves only to be met with pure acceptance by the other. Even blindados had to take off their armour at some point. 

You cherished your time with Angel, and he quickly found himself stumbling, head over his own biker-booted heels for you.

After a few months had passed, he had brought you to meet the club. You had manifested nothing but general acceptance of his lifestyle and were eager to meet the people Angel had so obviously cared for. Who had helped shape him into the brash but conscientious person he was with you. 

And one sunny afternoon had found you bringing lunch you had made for the entire club over to the scrapyard, Angel agreeing with your plan. You never were one to show up empty-handed. 

As you walked across the yard, past the gate, and into the clubhouse, your eyes adjusting to the dim interior from the blinding sun outdoors, Angel bounded over to greet you. Taking the bag full of homemade goodies from your arms, he pressed quick kisses to your cheeks, and one to your forehead. 

He turned, met with the pleasantly-surprised stares of his brothers. He announced your name to the room before turning to you, pointing at each man and supplying a name. You nodded, smiling and offering a warm wave to each. 

The man you knew to be EZ from all of Angel's initial texts and photos quickly strode over to you, shaking your hand in his impressively firm grip before bending down to press a quick kiss to your cheek with a,

"Bienvenido, hermanita. Angel's told me a lot about you. Won't shut up, really," giving you a sly wink as Angel swatted EZ's arm in annoyance at his brother's revelation.

Boys.

The smaller man with the sharp eyes and full curls you knew to be Coco made his way over to where you were now seated as Angel went to get you both drinks, the other men digging into your offerings as you made yourself comfortable.

He sat next to you, tossing you a, "You mind?" Lighting his cigarette after you’d shaken your head.

He studied you through his own plumes of smoke before leaning across the table and speaking to you, lowly and with an almost conspiratorial rasp to his voice,

"You did that cover-up for Angel?" He asked on a smooth exhale.

"Mhmm," you nodded. "He gave me free reign. I was nervous he'd hate it."

Coco seemed to chew over your words for a dragging moment. You shifted in your seat. He was definitely sizing you up.

"Bold move, pequeña, giving the secretario of a biker club a sleeve of flowers." 

"I suppose it was," you sighed, more than a little uncertain now. "But it felt meaningful, right, I guess. I just sort of… started drawing. I… think it worked out, though?" You trailed off.

Coco nodded. "It's a fuckin' good piece, mami. Angel told me what you'd said about memories making you who you are." He snorted lightly through his nose. "It's funny. We've never even met before, and you're already sounding like me." 

A small smile played across his lips, returning it with one of your own.

"I'm glad you approve," you nodded. "Angel's opinion obviously matters, and don't tell him I told you this, but it means alot coming from one of his family." 

And that's what they were. His family. You could see it. The obvious camaraderie and care underlying each of their actions with the other. You admired the system of support, cushioned by good humor, despite being flung regularly into harsh reality. It was clear -- they were there for one another.

Coco's voice broke your train of thought,

"Maybe you got space for me in your books one-a these days?"

Your small smile was a full-blown, sunny grin now.

"Of course. Anytime you want to drop by, you're more than welcome." 

"Gracias, chica." Coco leaned across the table and patted your shoulder before getting up and taking his leave.

And so it went. The boys would filter through your shop. Olí teasing you about his offense that all of his most lucrative, inked clients were now going to you. 

You enjoyed the time working on pieces for them afforded you -- offering you a glimpse into their inner workings, what they felt was important enough to take up permanent residence along their skin. Making idle chit-chat with you while you worked. And always, always sharing embarrassing little anecdotes about Angel. 

The months passed with you and Angel, finding comfort in your unpredictable, but welcome, respective routines. 

One night in particular found Angel wrapped up in your embrace, the physical embodiment of your gradual and growing trust in one another.

He had arrived home more than a little rattled, his eyes wildly darting to the corners of the room before settling in you, exhaling a shaky breath before striding the length of the room and crushing you to him, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. 

You understood he probably couldn't tell you what had happened, but you asked anyway, needing him to know you would hear him.

"Angelito, everything okay?" 

He shook his head softly in the negative, but didn't elaborate. 

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay. We don't have to talk about it," you wound your arms up and around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. "But it's going to be okay. I've got you. I won't let go."

He gripped your wrists, pulling your hands from his neck and sliding your arms down, bringing them to rest around his waist. Once he had positioned you where he wanted, he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, eyes heavy and dark with the weight of his stormy thoughts. 

He nodded at what you had said before bringing his lips back to yours. 

You brought one hand up to meet his, where it rested along your cheek. You twined your fingers through, joining your hands while breaking the kiss. You lead him through the apartment, bringing him to the bedroom. You had music softly playing from your speaker in the corner, candles lit to bathe the room in ambient glow and a warm, honey smell, all in anticipation of Angel's eventual arrival home.

You silently gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed, where you took your seat next to him. 

You tugged the leather kutte from his shoulders, folding it reverently and placing it on the chair near the bed. He exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging once the leather manifestation of his obligation to a darker world had been removed. The weight of the world a little less on the mantle of his shoulders. 

You turned your attention to his feet next, unlacing and tugging off his boots. Then, his belt. 

Once he was just in his jeans and his t-shirt, you resumed your seat at his side, bringing him back into your embrace and carding your hands through his hair, as his head rested on your shoulder. 

Angel spoke, voice cracking as he broke the seal of silence in the room. 

"It was… it was awful, Frida." He sighed. "I do everything they ask. It's my job … Fuck. Sometimes I wonder how much more my heart can take. But then, I get to come home to you." 

His breath was shuddering now.

And while you didn't always know what to say -- it was a rare sight to see Angel so rattled. But you were a caregiver by nature, ready to give him the pieces of yourself that would make him feel whole.

You guided him down so that he could recline, you came to rest at his side, winding your arms around his torso, your face turned into his neck, cuddling him as he came down from the mania of his emotional high.

The moments passed, Angel's breathing leveling again as you stroked his hair in time to the soft music.

He turned his head to look at you, admiring the flutter of your lashes as you blinked at him, your gaze warm and adoring, full of twinkling fairy light and starshine. 

"Te amo, querida," Angel breathed. This was not the first time he had said it to you during your months together. But each time felt as momentous as the first, each declaration of love felt like the slip of something sweet, and you were determined to store it in your heart and mind forever.

"I love you too, Angel. More than anything," you murmured. "I love your smile, your sense of humor, your strength." You pressed kisses to his face and neck with each admission. "Mostly, I love your strength. And that you trust me enough to tell me when you don't always feel it."

He sucked in a shuddering breath before whispering to you,

"I love your mind. How creative you are. How you see everything so beautiful, just like you," he hmm’d. "Mostly I love your trust. And that you choose to give it to me." 

You kissed him again, leaning over him with your entire body, pressing your palms gently into his shoulders. 

As your kiss deepened, you each began to tug at the other. His hands carded through your hair, tugging gently, but firmly. You lifted his shirt from his torso, the kiss breaking so you could peel it away.

You divested one another of each layer, baring yourselves to the other, body and soul. Again, this wasn't the first time you had done this. But this felt momentous nonetheless. 

Angel skimmed his hands over your form, running his hands softly down and over your breasts, loving your soft sigh at his touch. 

You leaned over him once more, reluctantly removing his hands from you, and placing them gently down at his sides. 

"Your heart is mine, mine to protect," You hummed softly, invading his senses and placing kisses down Angel's neck and to his chest, trailing your lips lovingly over Angel's heart, and pressing one last deliberate kiss there. "And I take my job very seriously." 

As you kissed him, you lightly trailed your fingers down his torso, coming to rest at his hip.

Your declaration was met with silence; you glanced up at Angel through your lashes only to find him already looking down through heavy-lidded eyes at you, his now swirling with some unnamed, weighted emotion.

You trailed your hand across his hip, not breaking eye contact as you took his hardening length into your hand. He inhaled sharply at the sensation of your grip, but refused to look away as you began to pump him slowly, still pressing kisses to his hips, torso and thighs. 

"Please, querida," Angel gasped.

"Please, what?" You murmured back, your voice taking a throaty register you reserved strictly for private moments with your beloved.

"Please… use your pretty mouth?" 

You nodded. 

"Relájate, baby, I've got you," you assured. Sweeping your hair back, the action washing Angel with the sweeping comfort of your scent as you made your way lower down his body. 

Angel slumped back against the bedspread, glittering galaxy eyes still trained on you as you lavished him with attention. 

You took the opportunity to flatten your tongue, licking a broad stripe up the length of him, one hand braced against his firm thigh, the other holding him gently at the base of his cock as you worked.

You swirled your tongue around the tip of him, delighted at his throaty moans, feeling the effect they had on you, making you feel like you were burning from the inside, feeling the slickness from your own center as your thighs rubbed together. 

Taking Angel wholly into your mouth now, you bobbed over him, relishing in the heavy feel of him in your mouth and the throaty groans you received from Angel in response. 

Before you could spend too long lavishing him with attention, Angel tugged on your hair at the base of your neck. Following his grip, you lifted your head and released him from, watching (a little greedily) as his thick length bobbed against him when you relinquished him from the confines of your mouth. 

He guided you up his body, hand still knotted in your hair, pushing his mouth onto yours, uncaring of the saliva on your lips and chin, and the taste of himself on your tongue. 

You straddled his hips, surging the rest of the way up his body and effectively deepening the kiss. The hand that was once in your hair now made its way to loosely grip at your throat, the other skimming his way down your breasts, across your ribs and toward your center.

As his fingers traced through your folds, you involuntarily rolled your hips into his hand, alight at his touch, and desperately seeking more. 

Angel touching you was like the shock of a live wire. Every time felt just as electric as the last, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as his fingers traced across your skin. 

He chuckled through your fused mouths, drawing back at your reaction and the wetness he found between your legs.

"Eager, amor?" Every word fell that fell from his lips sounded like a dangerous purr.

You nodded, drunk on the way Angel's hand gently squeezed your throat, while the other was teasingly making its way to-and-fro across your wet folds, occasionally making his way up to lightly circle and press his thumb over your clit, making your eyelids flutter. Your hips continued to rock against his hand, silently begging for more, his teasing touch making you more than a little crazy.

"Yeah?" Angel asked, his voice thick and syrupy, the timbre like dark clouds. "That shit turn you on? Sucking my cock?"

His words combined with his touch made another rush of heat flood through you. You were certain you would pass out, that your knees would buckle. And you were doing so well, holding your place up and over his hips while he played with you.

The hand on your throat gripped a little tighter, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

"Nuh-uh, baby," he shook you lightly, all mirth gone from his eyes, no more pleasant, smiling crinkles at the corners. His full lips pressed firmly together. "I asked you a question. You answer that shit"

He pressed two fingers teasingly against your entrance, refusing to insert them, despite the little roll of your hips.

"Y-yeaahh," you sighed, head tossed back, "I-I fucking love it -- love you, Angel."

He rewarded you by sliding a long finger into you, allowing you to ride his hand. The hand still around your throat guiding you forward, over him, allowing him to press hot, open-mouthed kisses, first to your lips, dirty and raw, like an exposed nerve in his unabashed want for you. 

He relinquished his hold on your neck, allowing him to trail his lips and his tongue there, kissing you softly behind your ear, down and around your neck to your collarbones, all while his fingers continued their earnest treatment inside of you, his thumb now pressing to your clit, your warming crescendo building.

Using his height and the fact that you were straddling him, Angel encouraged you to lean forward, allowing him to capture one of your breasts in his grip, his mouth following. His warm tongue swirled around your nipple before he sucked the bud into his mouth, grazing his teeth ever so gently over your sensitive flesh.

Angel's attention was rewarded with your gasping sighs and breathy moans. How anyone could make you feel this good was beyond you. Angel had an uncanny ability to elicit responses and feelings like no other person before him.

You felt the thrumming hum and warm, sticky wave of your orgasm building as Angel worked his fingers inside of you, stroking that particular spot from within that he knew would be your undoing.

"O-oh," you whined, keening noises caught in your throat. "Please, baby, I n-need you. Need you inside." 

The room was sweltering. Or was it just you? Angel withdrew his fingers smoothly, not sparing you the chance to be disappointed at the loss of feeling as he smoothly flipped the two of you, guiding you down to the mattress and hovering over your trembling form. 

"Yeah?" Angel asked. "You ready for that, querida?"

You gazed up at him through your lashes, longingly. He would give everything, anything, that he had in the world if you only looked at him like that forever, gaze full of warmth, heat, and unfiltered, starry adoration. 

"Mmm," you nodded, "Please? Angel?"

He was only a man, after all. Who was he to refuse when you asked so prettily for him?

He gently turned you over so that your back was to him, running his hands down the slope of your back and guiding you to your knees, propping your hips up.

Positioning himself behind you, Angel resumed his grip on your throat, using it to guide your head around so that he could kiss you again while he guided himself inside of you. You moaned into the kiss at the sensation, never tired of feeling every ridge of his thick cock sliding into you like he belonged there.

Angel groaned, breaking the kiss and shaking his head, chuckling darkly, his eyes flashing as he swore, 

"Never fuckin' get tired of that shit," he began to move his hips, using his other hand that was gripping your hip to guide you along his lengthy, meeting his thrusts. "Never tired of your pussy … You're so … good."

Angel's words coupled with his thrusts were driving you crazy, causing you to eagerly meet him with the momentum of your own hips, the heat in the room spliced with the distinctive noise of his skin meeting yours. 

Angel, leaning over your back, crowded your every sense, the taste of him, of his kisses still lingering on your tongue. Your ears met with the harmony of your two bodies and the filthy words and sounds coming from Angel's mouth. The sight of him was as intoxicating as ever, as you looked over your shoulder at him, the shadows of the room playing across his tawny skin, glimmering in the low light with the sheen of sweat you knew was also present on yours.

“Say my name,” Angel pants into the slick skin on your back, kissing a line down your spine, his body covering yours possessively.

You were too caught up in everything Angel, failing to respond quickly enough for his liking as you gasped at every thrust.

A crack of heat flashed across your ass, Angel swatting you there once. You should be annoyed, but you couldn't lie -- you fucking loved it when he was like this. Only for you. 

"A-angel," you sighed, the crescendo of your orgasm climbing, threatening to burst any second, you tightening around Angel.

"Bueno," he purred. "You close? Yeah, you fucking are," Angel snarled, taking in the way you threw your hips back desperately to meet him, squirming one hand beneath you to touch yourself. "You can have it, baby, I'll make it good. You just gotta ask pretty for me." 

You deepened the arch in your back, flexing your hips back toward Angel, and gripping the bedspread before you in your fingers, face pressed flush with the sheets, your other hand still pressed to your clit.

Angel tilted your head, leaning over further and gripping your jaw, squeezing to pucker your cheeks. He kissed you, sucking your lower lip between his. He kissed you gently, a deceptive contrast to the hand gripping your face, his hips snapping into yours at a now-brutish pace. He pecked another light kiss to your lips, followed by another, gently biting your lip and dragging it lightly as he drew his face from yours.

He released your lips as you whispered another plea into his mouth.

"Come on then, baby." 

Your orgasm washed over you, pinpricks of striking matches splintering across your skin, followed by a euphoric wave of white-heat, blissfully soothing every nerve it had just lit.

Angel followed, emptying himself into you with a few final thrusts, groaning at the way you tightened just so around him. 

He withdrew gently, collapsing next to you as you both caught your breath. 

Your lashes fanned your cheeks as you blinked hazily at the form of your love through the soft glow of the room.

"I do love you, Angel," you told him, leaning across the sheets to rub your nose back and forth against his, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, grazing your soft fingers against the lines of his forehead, easing them away into an expression of soft serenity. "Always."

---

Now, you walked out of the clubhouse, around to the side of the porch, a quiet corner away from the noise. Willing yourself to calm down as small, hot tears trickled their way, uninvited, down your cheeks. 

Your thoughts were moving a million miles a second, the battle of luck you were waging with the universe saw you quickly losing. 

The year you spent with Angel replaying itself in your mind. Every word, every touch, that goddamn tattoo. Remembrance, my ass. How you would hold him when he came home too high-strung and strung-out emotionally for words. How you would save the best leftovers for him when you knew he had been away and would be craving the Chinese food from the place down the block when he got back. How he felt inside of you on the coldest nights and in the most tender mornings. How he would whisper enchanting endearments into the shell of your ear as he rolled his hips into yours, your mind and body completely his. How you would wear his shirts and overly-large socks around his apartment, leaving doodles and scribbled poems on sticky notes for him to find in his moments alone. How he kissed you warmly, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like syrupy possession that you never wanted to end. 

How it did end. How he had thrown out your world, crumpled it into a crushed paper ball and tossing it away with the carelessness of a child. Ending things with seemingly no spare thought for your feelings. How EZ had let slip when he saw you in town that Angel was expecting a kid, the timing of everything suddenly making a little more sense. How it made you feel, now that you knew you were wholly his, but he was never entirely yours. How you had kept to yourself in the months that followed, the cracks in your heart widening until you felt like you would drown in them. 

The pulse of your feelings for him, always strong; they warm you. But it was still you they all left behind. 

Your thoughts were still swirling when, off to the side, you heard the porch door open and close again, and you prayed that whomever was coming outside was going to have a smoke out front, or that they were on their way out. That they wouldn’t find you. 

But of course, these things never worked out how you wanted them. You cursed any god you could think of for just how un-fucking-lucky you were sometimes. 

Because, really, who other than Angel was making his way around the porch to you? Taking in your hunched form as you leaned over the railing, looking anywhere but at him. 

Of fucking course.

You kept your eyes down, focused in your clasped hands as you leaned over the railing, refusing to look at him. 

And now? Now he was looking at you, and it's the one time you wished he wouldn't. 

One thing you wouldn't do, now that he was here, was break the silence first. He didn't want to hear what you'd had to say, so why would you grace him with your thoughts now? Petty? Sure. But you weren't the one in there with your hands on some ass while a so-called friend harassed your ex. 

A few uncomfortable beats dragged on before Angel broke the silence, shattering it like glass with a verbal hammer.

"What'd he say to you?"

You remained silent.

"What the fuck did he say, Frida?" His voice angry now, demanding. The same tone he used to break your heart. 

"It ain't working. Not my fuckin’ fault you can't see it."

You rolled your eyes, another shard of icy glass painfully wedging into your heart at his use of the name. Still refusing to look in his direction when you replied, softly but sharply, 

"You know exactly what he said. What I'm trying to figure out is why, exactly, you care."

"I care, Frida," was all he offered.

You snorted in response. Undignified, sure. But couldn't he see this was killing you? Where was his mercy?

"I do," he insisted, the thud of his boots across the wood of the porch indicating that he was crossing to you, coming to stand a ways behind you.

"I'm not going to do this with you. He said some shit. It's over. We move on. What more could you have to say about that?"  

Keep it simple, keep yourself safe. You gave him nothing to say back. And then… 

"And if I told you I wanted you? I wanted you back?"

You whipped your head around to -- finally -- meet Angel's eyes, which you did for a fleeting moment before zeroing in once more on your shoes, staring resolutely at the ground. You were not going to let him see you cry again, godfuckingdamnit.

The fleeting glimpse of his face, of his eyes meeting yours once more after all this time, was enough. He looked more tired up close than he had before. Still unfair in his striking beauty, his midnight eyes still enough to pull you in, drown you in their oceanic depths. You hated it. Hated that he still had that power over you. But try as you might, you couldn't hate him. 

Your silence was killing Angel with the precision of a thousand miniscule cuts. Each deeper than the last. Until he couldn’t take it any longer. He reached through the space between, for where your hand rested on the railing. You saw the gesture coming, and whipped your hand away at the last moment, cradling it to your chest like he had burned you. You faced him fully now.

You chuckled softly, wryly, and devoid of any humor before you muttered, "You don't want me, baby. Please don't lie."

“And how do you know that’s a lie?” Angel mumbled thickly, working his tongue around the words, through his own emotion. 

You scuffed your toe into the hewn wood of the deck, shrugging before you responded, simply, 

“If I was what you wanted, you wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere. And you certainly wouldn't have found someone else. You wouldn’t have said what you said, ended it like you did, with everything on just your terms.” You sighed deeply, with the rattle of tears lodged into your chest before you spoke again, “You made up your mind and never even let me say a word. If you wanted anything to do with me, you could have at least given me a word.” 

Angel blinked, hard. The familiar pressure of real tears building behind his eyes. You were right of course. And fuck, weren't you always? You'd always told him like it was, harsh truths that only you could cushion in your gentle, empathetic way. 

"Please, querida, just let me explain what happened--" 

You held up your hand, shaking your head firmly, effectively silencing Angel.

"No!" Much softer now, "No. I- I'm sorry, Angel, I don't mean to be rude. But, no." Your voice small, but clear, as you'd finally gotten your opportunity to say something back to him. "I, uh, I don't want to hear any explanation, and you really don't have to?"

You lilted the last part like it was a question, but continued on. 

"You, um, you've had a lot of time to tell me something, anything, about what the fuck happened. And you didn't. You left me with nothing. Just confusion and hurt, and I've made peace with that. It's taken a while, but … I just… I don't need that from you. I gave you space, always respected your decisions and opinions, and now you won't do the same. You're still trying to take from me. Offering me an explanation now?" You scoffed. "That isn't for me, and don't fuckin’ act like it is -- it's for you. And I understand that, that's fine. I'm not angry at you for that, but I'm also not going to humor it." 

You exhaled shakily, you couldn't believe you'd said all of that, that you had made it through.

Angel was speechless. It made your heart feel even sicker -- all of this silence from him for so long, and he'd offered to explain himself and you'd (gracefully) told him to fuck off. Why had you done that??

It was about time you'd stood up for yourself, that's why. 

An explanation would be nice, sure. But where Angel's words, whispered affirmations and heady declarations of love, had once made your soul swell and sing… now, you knew, anything he'd had to say to you would only serve to do the opposite. 

And your heart, perpetually bruised by nature of you being a hopeless romantic, just couldn't take it. 

You hopped off the porch, spinning around to face Angel, finding his eyes on you still. Hadn't you wished for him to look at you? To really see you once more? 

"I'm out," you tossed a thumb over your shoulder toward where you'd parked your car. "Sorry, I don't mean to abandon the old post, but uh, I'm sure you guys have someone to fill in. I'll text Aneesa to grab my stuff, don't worry about it." 

Like he would, you thought.

You were mostly rambling to yourself, and not really to Angel, as you backed away, fleeing to your car. 

Angel watched you go, the resonant ache in his chest that had been ever-present since tossing your stuff out, amplified when Luisa had left him, and now sure to be permanent, buried in cement beneath the weight of his every decision, and every word.

You looked good, he thought. Your hair was longer than when he'd seen you last. Your little skirt flouncing as you strode away. Your skin still glowed, full lips still twisted into that wry smile of yours that he had seen from across the room. All of that was true, but your eyes were also tired, and your smile never quite reached them. 

The thought that he was responsible for dimming that sparkle made him feel sicker than he already had. The way you had brushed off Andres, despite his obnoxious insistence, and the things the cocky  new patch had said to you -- may as well add those to the ever-growing pile of things stained and tainted by Angel's guilt.

And he was left alone with that guilt as you left the lot. He turned back to the party. His cool facade slipping back into place. Not ready to face the wrath of EZ and Coco, surely waiting inside to proverbially beat his ass.

What would you say if I come over? And we stand face to face now that we're older?

---

Angel shuffled into his apartment, the late hour catching up to his weary form as he ambled over to his bedside, flicking on the lamp. 

Rubbing a large hand down his face, he sat on his bed in a huff of exhaustion. Your first encounter in months since he'd all-but tossed you from this very room was pricking him with a kind of nauseating nervous  energy. But all he wanted to feel in that moment was you, whether he deserved it or not.

He'd still had it, didn't he? Where was it?

He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fishing through its contents for what he hoped was still in there.

His fingers curled over his prize -- a slip of paper adorned with your handwriting. Scrawled lines of poetry on a neon pink Post-It note, curled with age and disuse, something you had left for him while he slept in one morning. 

“I was thinking of you,” you had said when he had asked you about it later, shrugging as if it were the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. 

Your love for him was clean in its simplicity and forwardness, whenever he could wade his way through the mire of your shy demeanor. You had stuck the Post-It to his nightstand while he was sleeping and you made your way to work. Your words were cramped and crunched into the small paper square, but ready to greet him with the shining light of a sunny new day. 

“I see your ardor through a pearlescent lense, and all is pleasantly pink and blurry with you-- Resplendent in your love's solar hope. You are so warm beneath the brush of my fingertips, and I burn. So in love with you, as I am and as I do."

Now, his eyes scanned the words for the millionth time since you had written them. He had committed it to memory by now, wishing he could hold you instead of this crumpled piece of paper, mocking him with its annoyingly bright pink hue.

But how could he? Angel was the kind of man who simmered in his emotion -- burning slowly, lowly, only to reach a pitch. He kept to himself until he couldn’t any longer -- and then it was all bleeding hearts on a very crisp sleeve. 

He had done what he had thought was right. Cutting you out with all of the brutality and finesse of a battleaxe, to focus on Luisa and his unborn son. He thought she was what he wanted. But now, he didn’t even have them. He had nothing to show for his decisions but the lonely, sick feeling ever-present in his chest. 

The you at the beginning of your relationship would have kissed each bruise in his soul, one by one, until they were better. Would have gifted him with the warmth of your time and attention until he was made whole again with the molten heat of your gracious heart. But the you now? 

Angel could never, would never, cover the tattoo on his arm, though he had thought about it. Blacking it out once and for all, so the piece of you he wore on his sleeve would finally match the  pitch, and emptiness inside. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was, as he’d said all that time ago, your gift to him. And he’d made you a promise that he wouldn’t. 

All he wanted was to look you in the eyes so he could remember that he loved you once.

And not that he had any reason to know it, but across town, you had made it home. Your phone shoved to the bottom of your bag, lighting up with texts from Aneesa, EZ, and Coco. But the only person on your mind was Angel. 

How much of what he had said was true? You weren't sure. But you were sure that you knew where you stood, still painfully alone and in love as ever, the cracks in your heart only fillable by the very person you had brushed off earlier.

And, while Angel readied himself for bed, snapping the lights off and attempting to cut through the oppressive darkness by staring at the ceiling with his own penetrative gaze, the empty side of the bed had never felt more cavernous, but more weighted. Mocking. 

If Angel was being honest with himself -- something he was never too keen on being in his more sobering moments -- he didn't love you once. He still loved you.

Thinking after all this time, I just wanna meet your eyes so I can remember why... Why I loved you once.

Tagging:

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[chimchimsauce]

Fairest

Is beauty a blessing or a curse? All of her life, princess YN was told that her beauty was the greatest gift her late mother ever gave her. But when her looks attract a man cruel and bloodthirsty, YN begins to think that her greatest asset is the beginning of her demise.

“Checkmate.”

YN cannot help the grin that spreads across her face as she utters the word, watching as her older brother groans with disdain.

“You always win!” he complains, acting very much like a child.

“That’s because you always get too caught up in the current move, dear brother. The future decisions are the most important ones.”

YN’s older brother, first in line to the throne of their small country Ameris, huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Chess is like war. You get too focused on winning battles that cause you to lose the war. I certainly hope that won’t be the case for our kingdom . . .”

YN is only jesting. Her elder brother is an excellent leader and will make a wonderful king. He’s just really impatient with games. 

“I’m sure I can beat you next round!” her brother says playfully.

They both know it’s unlikely, but YN clears the board and begins to set up another game. As she’s placing the last pawn, a knock comes at the door. One of her handmaidens opens it, revealing one of their father’s special guards. 

YN’s breath catches ever so slightly before she schools her expression back into one of unbothered royalty. It’s always so hard to ignore her secret lover when other people are around, but she knows she must. A relationship between her and her father’s most trusted guard would cause a scandal that would undoubtedly get Wonho’s position revoked. He’s worked his entire life to get good enough for a spot on the King’s royal guard and there’s no way YN would do anything to sabotage that.

“His majesty has requested your presence,” Wonho says, not even looking YN in the eyes.

He’s much better at keeping his emotions in check.

YN’s brother stands, tapping his finger on the chessboard.

“Lucky thing I’m being summoned, or else I would have absolutely destroyed you in this game.”

YN laughs, maybe a little more politely than she would if Wonho wasn’t standing at the door.

“I’m sure of it,” she says, “Feel free to come back anytime to play again.”

YN’s brother nods and leaves her quarters, following after Wonho. Being the heir to the throne means that YN rarely gets to see her brother. He’ll be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time as he tours the neighboring countries to learn everything he possibly can, as well as maintain a positive relationship with their allies. Ameris may be a small country, but it is located in the perfect spot for transcontinental trade and filled to the brim with valuable resources. One could dig in a mine for just a few moments and emerge with a diamond the size of a robin’s egg.

Thankfully, Ameris has not had any problems with its neighboring countries in hundreds of years. The last war was ended by YN’s great great great grandfather and peace has blanketed the region since then.

Well, for the most part. In the last several years, the Eastern kingdom of Moonbyss has been steadily expanding and taking over small, unclaimed villages. They have not breached any borders or broken any treaties, however, so there is no cause to worry quite yet.

YN sighs as her thoughts shift back to Wonho. Their secret love affair has been going on since they were teenagers. At first, Wonho was just an attractive boy who was willing to indulge her wanton fantasies, but soon enough an affection bloomed between them. It’s so hard to pretend not to be in love with him, especially when he grows more handsome by the day.

“Thinking about him, my lady?” YN’s lady in waiting, Irene, asks her.

Irene is YN’s closest confidant and friend. She knows almost everything about the princess. Ever since she arrived in the castle from abroad two years ago, they have been inseparable. 

“Of course,” YN says, standing and walking over to the window that overlooks her private gardens. 

She opens the glass door and steps outside, her skin warmed by the sunshine. It’s an absolutely beautiful day, cloudless and blue. Birds chirp sweetly and the scent of flowers wafts on the breeze. The princess stops at the fountain in the middle of the garden, sitting on the bench and looking into the bubbling water. YN often made wishes in this fountain when she was younger, tossing in coins that reflected the sunlight back at her. More recently, though, she’s only wished for one thing - to be with Wonho. Her father, although he loves her, would never allow a union between them. Her older brother, however, has promised to allow YN to marry whoever she desires once he takes the throne on his thirtieth birthday.

He does not know that someone already has her affections, but no matter. YN is not worried about being married off. While her brother is the only prince in the kingdom, the king was blessed with twelve daughters and YN is the youngest. Every available man of power in the kingdom and the surrounding countries have already been wedded. 

YN has Irene bring her a book to read and she settles in, getting comfortable in her garden. The hours pass by quickly as she is sucked into the tale, but soon enough a shadow blocks her reading light. 

The princess looks up and is shocked to see Wonho standing in front of her. Alarm flares up inside of her. The two of them have agreed to never be seen together in daylight.

“Won-”

“Your Majesty,” Wonho says stiffly, “The King requests an audience. I have been asked to escort you to the throne room.”

YN hesitates a moment. She can tell that something is wrong by the strain in his voice. Something must really be bothering him for the guard to allow it to leak into his words. She wants to ask him what’s wrong, but she never knows who is watching so she simply stands, handing her book off to Irene who stands beside her.

“Very well,” YN says, trailing after him and back into the castle.

He walks three paces in front of her, leaving her to stare at his back. So much about him has changed in the last few years. He’s gained an immense amount of muscle, something that YN has really grown to appreciate during their midnight endeavors. It’s a shame that everything is covered up by his uniform, but she must admit he looks dashing in it.

As they walk, YN notices that Wonho isn’t the only one acting strangely. The various maids and butlers who usually flit around and chatter pleasantly amongst themselves are dead silent, walking with perfectly straight backs and zipped mouths. The princess notices a few pitying looks tossed her way and something cold settles in her stomach.

What’s going on?

Wonho knocks on the throne room’s closed doors. They are ever so carefully opened a few moments later and Wonho leads YN into the grand room.

Her father sits on the throne, a smaller one empty next to him. It always makes YN sad to see her father by himself. The Queen passed away only a year ago and was her father’s closest friend. The late Queen was kind to everyone, even YN’s mother - a poor girl her father discovered in one of his hunting trips. Apparently, YN’s father was so taken with her mother that he simply had to add her to his harem and rarely visited any of his other concubines afterward. But it didn’t last long - YN’s mother died shortly after her birth. Everyone says that she left YN her ethereal beauty, a fact that led YN to being hidden away in the castle for the majority of her life.

“You’re the most valuable diamond in all of Ameris,” her father told her once, “It’s important that few people know of your existence.”

It had saddened YN when she was younger that she could not attend the lavish parties and balls like her elder sisters and brother, but she came not to mind once Wonho came into her life. It mattered not if other people thought she was beautiful - as long as Wonho desired her, that was more than enough.

Standing to her father’s side is YN’s brother. The jolly air that had surrounded him mere hours ago is gone completely now. He looks furious, an expression YN has rarely seen on his face. He’s looking at a man who stands before the throne, a crown placed perfectly on his head.

Visiting nobility? 

The man turns as the click of YN’s heels sounds out against the marble flooring. YN’s step falters as a large, nearly terrifying grin spreads across his face. He is incredibly handsome, but the smile on his face does nothing but creepy the princess out.

“There she is,” he says, quickly extending his hand towards her.

YN, uncertain, looks at her father who gives her a stiff nod. Hesitantly, YN places her hand in the stranger’s grasp, making sure to school her expression as he places a cold kiss that lingers too long against her gloved hand. The princess has never been more glad to be wearing gloves.

“And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” YN asks, careful to watch her throne. 

“King Seokjin Moonbyss, your highness. I must say, the rumors of your beauty do you no justice. You’re much more radiant in person.”

YN’s blood freezes in her veins. This cannot mean anything good.

“Thank you,” YN says, a slight tremble in her voice.

The man has still not released her hand.

“YN,” her father says, giving her an excuse to look away from this man - no, this monster - beside her, “King Seokjin has asked for your hand.”

YN barely squashes the shout of protest that so desperately wants to escape her throat. There’s no way this can be happening! No way! Her eldest brother is just three years shy of taking the throne, three years more of having to tiptoe around with Wonho. No way she can get married, especially to someone from so far away.

“Excuse me,” Wonho says, speaking up from his place behind YN, “I thought King Seokjin was already married.”

Relief flows through YN. If Seokjin is already married, then surely this is an error.

“She failed to provide me with a male heir, so I had her disposed of,” King Seokjin says simply, glaring at Wonho, “Do not question me again.”

There is not a trace of remorse in his voice at all, nothing but anger.

YN begins to tremble.

“Father -” she begins.

“King Seokjin has made us an offer I cannot refuse,” he says, cutting her off, “And besides, YN, you’ll be able to be Queen. You never would have had that opportunity here.”

YN’s father would normally never make this sort of decision, especially not for the daughter he tried so hard to keep hidden.

“Of course, sweet YN,” King Seokjin says, “You are free to reject my offer if you so desire. I would, however, be forced to declare war on Ameris. After all, this country is the most resource rich of all the lands. It’s a shame. It would have been so much nicer to make a positive connection with this beautiful country. I wonder how much of its splendor will be left once my troops march through it.”

The threat is crystal clear. YN has to marry this King or her country will suffer for it. YN glances at her father and brother, seeing the fear that’s in their eyes. Ameris is much too small to fight Moonbyss and win, especially since the eastern country has been gaining a lot of territory very rapidly. YN swallows. In a matter of hours, her perfect daydream has been shattered.

“I would be honored to marry you, King Seokjin,” YN says, trying her hardest not to cry.

She can release her tears once she’s in the safety of her own chambers. She cannot show any weakness in front of this man.

“Beautiful and smart,” King Seokjin says, “It will be my honor to have you as my bride. After all, the most handsome man in all the world deserves the most beautiful bride of them all.”

YN never really thought much of her beauty. She’s always heard it was a blessing, the only one her mother ever left her, but right now it feels like a curse. 

“I pray that you’ll join me for dinner this evening, my betrothed,” King Seokjin says.

“I would love to,” YN says even though the thought of having to spend even a single moment more in this man’s presence makes her want to hurl.

“You best retire to your quarters, my love. Your father and I have much to discuss before this evening. I’ll send someone for you when I’m ready.”

The dismissal is clear. YN turns swiftly and leaves the room, Wonho following closely behind her. She walks much too fast to be considered ladylike, but she does not give a damn, wanting to be as far away from the throne room as possible. 

“YN, wait!” Wonho calls out to her.

He grasps her wrist, uncaring of who will see, and pulls her to his chest. As soon as the warmth of him touches her, YN loses all composure, breaking down and sobbing into his pristine uniform.

“Wonho,” she cries out, grasping him as close as she can, her fingers creasing the silk he wears, “I don’t want to be Queen! I want to marry you!”

YN feels something wet fall against her head. Based on the way his shoulders shake, Wonho is also crying. She hasn’t seen him shed a tear since one of his best friends was murdered on a mission.

“What are we going to do?” YN asks into his chest, her voice muffled, “I don’t think I can bear being apart from you, especially with someone as cruel as the King!”

“We’ll figure something out, YN, I promise,” Wonho says, pulling away just enough to give YN a salty kiss.

“At least once more,” YN says once their lips part, “I must have you at least once more.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Wonho says, pulling her along to her chambers.

The two fall into the sheets, both knowing that this is the last time despite desperately wanting to spend eternity together.

On the other side of the castle, Irene makes her way through the hallways, stopping at a grand door and knocking three times. No one answers, so she swings it open, prepared to wait for as long as it takes. 

Maybe half an hour later, King Seokjin opens the door, looking quite pleased with himself. He doesn’t greet Irene, instead instantly walking over to her and pinning her against the wall, his lips meeting hers passionately. Irene barely has any time to catch her breath, but she doesn’t mind at all, too enamored with this man she knows is only using her.

When he was only a prince, Seokjin was infamous for being a womanizer. All too often, he lured servants and noble girls alike into his chambers, whispering promises and pressing kisses against their skin only to leave them abandoned like trash when he grew bored of them. Irene was one of those servant girls, but Seokjin has kept her around for longer than most. A part of Irene is convinced it’s because she’s special to him, but she knows it’s really not true.

Seokjin has been obsessed with YN, the secret twelfth princess of Ameris for five years now. Ever since he spotted her while visiting Ameris with his late father, he wanted her - needed her. After all, she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, trying as he might to find another. His late wife was incredibly beautiful as well, but she didn’t compare to YN. No one else was worthy of her but him. It was YN that drove him to murder his own father and take the throne before he was supposed to. After all, Seokjin has never been a patient man.

Seokjin pulls away from Irene, looking unbothered as ever.

“No good,” he says, “Simply imagining that you’re YN does nothing. I’m tired of waiting.”

His words sting Irene’s heart. She tries not to be bitter, but jealousy is a powerful emotion, one that overshadows the genuine affection she feels for princess YN.

“Well,” the King asks her, “Who is it? The one YN claims to be in love with.”

The King rolls his eyes, gripping his fists tightly. How dare YN love another when he’s already claimed her.

“It’s Wonho,” Irene says, pushing down her feelings, “the guard that accompanied her today.”

“A guard huh? How dare he think he deserves someone as beautiful as YN!” he says, furious.

Seokjin is terrifying when he’s angry. Irene tenses, preparing for the worst. Instead of gripping her hair and tossing her to the floor like he usually does, Seokjin grabs a decorative vase and tosses it against the ground, watching as it shatters into a million pieces.

“You didn’t strike me,” Irene says, shocked.

“I have been practicing,” the King says, “After all, it would be a shame to make a single mark on YN’s perfect body.”

Much too soon, Irene is knocking on YN’s private chamber door.

“Your majesty,” she calls out softly, “Your betrothed has requested your presence.”

YN rolls over to Wonho, tears in her eyes. He blinks them away, wanting to remember this moment clearly.

“One moment,” YN calls out, listening as Irene walks away.

“Run away with me,” YN pleads, her voice desperate.

“You know we can’t,” Wonho says, his eyes sad.

“Yes we can!” YN insists, “You know this country better than anyone. We can get up right now and flee and -”

“YN,” Wonho says, “What about the country? You know we’ll be forced to go to war if you disappear.”

YN sniffles.

“I don’t think I can live without you,” YN confessed, “And if I can, I don’t want to find out.”

Wonho is silent for a moment before he sits up, an idea in his mind.

“What? What is it?” YN asks him.

“What if you didn’t?”

“What?”

“What if you didn’t have to live without me? I’ve heard rumors amongst the staff of a poison you can take that will put you in a deep slumber for a fortnight. If some was mixed into your dinner tonight, it can seem that you’ve been poisoned and passed away. Then when you awake, you and I can disappear together.”

YN brightens. Even though being unconscious for a fortnight doesn’t sound pleasant, anything will be better than having to marry KIng Seokjin. Besides, she trusts Wonho with her life.

“Okay,” YN says, agreeing right away.

“Are you sure, YN?” Wonho asks her, “You will end up getting rather sick for a few days before the slumber.”

YN nods eagerly.

“Yes, anything,” she says.

“Very well.”

Wonho hops out of bed, pulling on his clothes as quickly as he possibly can.

“I’ll get everything ready. YN, go to dinner with the king, alright? I won’t be able to see you after this so as not to arouse suspicion. I love you, princess.”

He leans down to kiss her.

“I love you more,” YN says, watching as Wonho slips out of a glass door and into the gardens.

Unbeknownst to the lovers, King Seokjin is outside the door, his ear pressed against it to hear everything. He had come to escort his beloved like a sweet fiance would, only to hear his to be wife scheming to get away from him.

He’s never been so angry, but he suppressed it, not wanting to let YN know that he’s been here. He grabs Irene by the arm roughly and leads her out into the hallway, bending over to whisper in her ear.

“Make sure to add enough of the poison to YN’s food to keep her under for longer than a fortnight. Put as much of it in as you can without bringing her to the brink of death.”

“Are you sure your -”

Irene’s question is cut off when he backhands her, one of his elegant rings drawing blood.

“Do NOT question me!” he says, “Do as I order!”

Irene rushes off to do as the King says, tears brimming in her eyes. She’s never regretted being Seokjin’s spy until now, too blinded by love. She should have warned YN, should have helped her disappear with Wonho - someone Irene knows truly loves the princess. King Seokjin is just obsessed with her beauty and determined to own her like she’s some sort of object to be bought and sold.

Peeking around the corner, Irene sees Wonho pouring a liquid into the soup bowl meant for the princess. When he leaves and when the coast is clear, Irene snatches the vial from the counter and empties the rest of it into other dishes reserved for the princess before refilling the vial with water and placing it back where Wonho left it.

“YN, I’m so sorry,” she whispers to herself before fleeing into the night, never to be heard from again.

At dinner, YN pretends not to notice the odd taste in her food. It’s obviously been tampered with, but YN doesn’t let it show at all, eating properly and conversing with King Seokjin as much as she can bear. YN misses the look of glee in his eye as he drinks from his goblet, still believing that everything is going to plan.

YN starts feeling ill once the final course comes around. She quickly asks to be excused and King Seokjin offers to walk her back to her room. YN accepts, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to make it on her own with the  way the room begins to spin.

For the next three days and nights, YN is in and out of consciousness, the world swirling around her in a nauseating mix of bright colors and fuzzy shapes. When she closes her eyes at midnight of the third day, her thoughts are on Wonho and the fact that the next time she opens them, she’ll be free to be with him.

But YN does not wake up. Not for a fortnight, not ever. Seokjin, furious, intends to find Irene and hang her for murdering his beloved before realizing that she’s nowhere to be found. It’s easy enough to frame Wonho for her murder and a matter of hours after YN dies, Wonho follows her from the gallows.

At his request, YN is preserved and dressed in a wonderful white wedding gown, still looking very much alive. He marries her anyway and has her crowned, determined to have her even in death. She’s too beautiful to be buried underground, so he commissions a glass coffin to display her in, putting her corpse in his bedroom where no one else can see her. King Seokjin finds that he does not mind YN being dead. She’s much less bothersome in passing, much easier to fall to his will.

King Seokjin stands before her, placing his hand flat against the cool glass of her coffin. Even in death, YN is the fairest of them all.

[marvelous-imagines]

Imagine Johnny that the reader is Johnny's girlfriend and is a typical Nerd who loves to read comic books and is addicted to games and her friends end up making fun of her

considering I'm a huge nerd YES AND DONE LOVE!

Johnny Lawrence x reader

Warnings: mild language. Slight angst. Fluff!

You couldn't help the wide excited smile that bloomed on your face, pure joy engulfing you warmly as you looked into the full length mirror, taking in your new shirt. The bold lettering that read captain America along with the majestic figure himself in his signature stance with the American flag blowing around behind him as he held his glorious shield. The shirt was art, beautiful and truly a masterpiece... And it's yours, thanks to your boyfriend.

"johnny I love it!" you exclaimed happily, turning back to look at the blond, his grin wide as he watched you while leaned against the wall of your bedroom.

"I thought you would, when I saw it through the store window I knew it was something you'd want" he shrugs cooly, "although you're lucky no one saw me in the nerdy store full of losers" he jokes while pushing off the wall and walking over to you, placing his hands on your waist.

"now johnny... Are you calling me a loser?" you ask him, eye's locking on his baby blues.

"not you, you're my beautiful little nerd" he leans down so his face is closer to yours. You smirk and quickly peck him on the lips before pulling away from him and looking back at the shirt.

"thanks for the shirt Johnny, I love it!" you say ecstatic. Johnny let's out a chuckle and swiftly wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

"I think I deserve a kiss for my good deeds" he spoke while nuzzling his face into your neck. His breath tickling the skin there which causes you to giggle.

"if I gave you a kiss Lawrence you would definitely turn it into a 14 minute make out session and I have 3 minutes to arrive at Tiffany's house before I'm late" you placed your hands over his that was resting on your hips. He groans as he looks at you through the mirror.

"do you have to go to Tiffany's?" he questioned with a pout, and when he gave you the puppy eye's you almost wanted to bail out on your plans so you could stay with your boyfriend.

"yes, I promised I'd help her do birthday planning for her younger sister, then after we've planned shopping" you say reluctantly pulling away from Johnny's warm strong arms. He whines and nods in understanding.

"okay, I'll call you tonight babe" he said while walking to your bedroom door, "love ya y/n" he was his last words before he left. You smile fondly at where he once stood before grabbing your shoes and heading out the door as well.

You giggled loudly at your two friends Rebecca and Tiffany, while you all was seated on Tiffany's sofa while planning her younger sisters upcoming birthday party. You three had been laughing and joking around, talking more about boys then planning the actual party.

"last weekend me and Tommy went on our third date" Rebecca said with a smile. Tiffany let's a teasing grin spread across her face as she focuses her attention on the red head seated in between you both.

"oh, what happened on this date?" Tiffany wiggled her eyebrows in suggestive manner. You roll your eyes at your friend and smack her shoulder playfully.

"like I'd ever tell you anything tattle tale" Rebecca snorts, picking up the notebook full of ideas for the birthday and jotting something down before tossing it back on the table.

"oh c'mon, isn't Tommy apart of that badass karate thingy? He's a total badass!"

"my boyfriend knows karate too Tiffany" you decide to join the conversation with a little smile, just the thought of Johnny making your heart skip a beat.

Tiffany scoffs, shaking her head. "y/n sweetie we're talking about actual guys, not some comic book guys you have a crush" you lift a brow at her harsh tone. Of course your friends wasn't fond of comics as much as you was. They often teased you for liking comics, calling you childish and nerdy. But they was still your friends and you suffered through the constant teasing and insults.

"she's actually dating Johnny Lawrence, that cute blond boy you drool over at school" Rebecca spoke up as you just simply grabbed the notebook and jot down some ideas for Tiffany.

That seemed to make her choke on air nearly as she had wide eye's. "he's dating her?! The nerdy, quite little -

"what's so bad about being nerdy?" you cut her off angrily as you tossed the notebook aside and crossed your arms. Starting to feel offended by her this time.

"it's lame, all the comic books, the stupid dolls you collect - even that stupid shirt! It's childish y/n. You need to grow up" Tiffany spat out harshly, leaving you feeling a wave of hurt weigh down on you. What if she was right?

"it's not childish -

You tried to explain but she cuts you off with a laugh, "and all you do is play stupid video games, you spend more time in comic stores and arcades then hanging out with actual people" she laughed, Rebecca stifling a laugh beside you which has you feeling even worse. You thought they was your friends...they didn't understand just how amazing comics was, they was a escape, a slice of peace from chaos every once in a while. And video games was fun, a nice way to relax after a long day.

"you guys just don't get it... The two things are awesome" you grumbled quietly.

"awesome? You're a nerd y/n, I don't even see why Johnny would date you" her and Rebecca laughed loudly as you feel tears start to build up in your eye's. You stand up and storm out of the door, your tears you tried holding back escaping.

It was nearly 15 minutes later when you arrived home, laying on your bed and taking in what your friends said. Why would Johnny date you? You was a nerd, you loved superheroes and video games. Your friends was right... You was childish, you sat up and take your captain america shirt off and slip on a plain t-shirt and lay back down. Johnny was a total badass and deserved someone better then you, someone who he was most likely ashamed of being seen with.

As you laid in your bubble of self loathing a knock on your bedroom door disturbs you. "go away!" you said loudly while you swing a arm over your eye's while you laid on your back.

"geez you sound so happy to see me" the familier sound of your boyfriend said, "it's Johnny, i left my wallet in you're room I think, I can't find anywhere else..." he spoke from the other side of the door.

You sigh and stay in your position, "come in" the sound of the door opening then closing was the only thing heard, soon followed by Johnny's voice once more.

"why aren't you wearing the shirt I got you?" he asks while picking it up off the floor and sitting on the edge of your bed, "what's wrong?" you slowly move your arm off your eyes and look at him. He instantly saw the sadness swimming in your eye's.

"do you think I'm childish?" you ask him quietly, slowly sitting up in bed and looking at him. He gives you a confused look before shaking his head.

"no, why would I?" he says while playing with the shirt in his hands, his eyes roaming your face trying to understand what's wrong.

"because I'm a nerd... I'm a loser Johnny, I don't even know why you're dating someone like me" you said with growing irritation at yourself. Johnny placed the shirt on the bed at gives you a stern look.

"I'm with you because I love y/n. I love everything about you, I love you for you" johnny said while scooting closer to you and placing his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look at him, his eyes holding nothing but truth, "what even made you think like this?" he murmured. You let out a deep breath while leaning into his touch.

"Tiffany and Rebecca" you muttered while looking away from his gorgeous blue eyes. He sighs and scoops you up in his arms and placing you in his lap, you was surprised by the abrupt movement but soon melt into his loving arms that was wrapped around your waist.

"if they were guys and kick their ass's for making you even think for a moment that you're a loser" he said causing you to giggle a little. But he continues with a serious look, "you're not a loser, you're cool and I love that you like video games and comics... It shows that you have a fun a personality and not a boring one like Tiffany and Rebecca's" he placed a kiss on your nose, you giggle at him and lay your head on his shoulder.

"I love you Johnny, you're the absolute best" you muttered while closing your eyes and basking in his loving embrace.

"I love you too y/n, every little detail" he muttered back, running his hand up and down your back. You truly did love Johnny, no one in the world could make you as happy as him, even when you felt down....

A/n: it's short as usual and shity, even I know that bruh😭 but here it is, I wrote it while suffering through a party (I have really bad anxiety and hate crowds so I write while standing in a corner to prevent panic attacks)

[lyallblacklupin]

My Truth about you.

Remus has a tendency to practice self-deprecation after full moon when he gets new scars. This time it is a big one on his face. He thinks that he looks hideous, but Sirius is there to tell him otherwise. 

Remus smacks the book on the table so loudly that even students sitting at the ends of the table jerk from their seats.

The marauders are staring at him with hanging jaw and bulging eyes like hawks.

“You okay there, Moony?” James tentatively asks.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” Remus glares at him, aiming his index finger towards the bandaged wound on his cheek. It has been three days, and everyone is steering clear from Remus’ way. The last full moon was a disaster that mostly did damages to his face and neck. He hated facial injuries, not because they were difficult to heal but they made him look ugly—considering the fact, his boyfriend is ten times beautiful than he could possibly imagine himself to be.

The silence settles, tinged with discomfort.  The marauders go back to their lunch before they are running to their classes. Throughout the whole day including the supper, Remus’ mood was at the same foul place. Sirius is trying hard not to step on his nerve that might trigger and eventually cause Remus to curse and boycott everyone and everything. Remus can see it but pretends it to be unacknowledged. He knows that Sirius is the only person he can be himself with, but not with the others because, James and Peter included, everyone is eyeing him with weird looks on their faces that mostly blooms one thing: fear.

They all go to their dorm, and begrudgingly Remus flops on the first bed. He remains there with his chest glued to the soft sheets, his face buried too, sniffing a strongly familiar scent. Before he processes the picture of the person in his head, a voice calls him out.

“Moony?” It is soft like the petals of a fresh white flower and silky like chocolate. He doesn’t open his eyes. He can feel that the exhaustion of the day is dumping out of him, dissipating into thin air.

“Moons?” This voice is much clearer but he doesn’t dare open his eyes again because there is something on his head, brushing his hair. He can picture it. Long, slender white fingers are spreading and fisting his golden curls.

And then, a kiss. On the temple. So gentle that he wanted to sink into its holiness. He groans with the felicity of experiencing such celestial intimacy.

“Wake up, Moons. Just for a moment then you can go back to sleep, love.”

Remus opens his eyes because this time he is shaken by the figure that is intoxicating him with their presence. And there he is. Grey eyes like silver orbs staring at him with such solace and the rippling dark hair are let down. The sight is scenic. Remus asks himself why didn’t he just look at his boyfriend the whole day. He know if he had, his day would’ve been spent much better. The regret is not strong but sweetly painful because Sirius Black is the foremost person in his life and being ignorant to his presence is nothing but ungratefulness.

“Sirius…” And he smiles. Sirius Black smiles his delicate smile which is only reserved for him. He hums in response. “What are you doing here?”

“The question is, my dear Moony, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is my bed.”

“So? This is my bed, too.”

“Okay, okay, this is your bed too, Mr. Grumpy.” He chuckles but Remus continues to glare at him, “What!? Okay at least get up and take off your school robes. I’ll lend you my pajamas.”

Remus doesn’t move from his position because he knows if he surrenders, he will lose the chance of Sirius undressing and caressing him. There is always something ethereal about Sirius’ touch. He touches Remus like he is made of delicate glass.

And then it starts happening, Sirius is getting him out his school robes and shoes. The moment is pure bliss and dreamy. Once Sirius was done, Remus looks up to witness him staring at his face with an intense yet unreadable expression. He reaches out to cup Remus’ cheek, and then suddenly Remus flinches away. He hasn’t forgotten it. The ugly feeling started assembling back to him, making him feel all blue and dejected instantly. Sirius has caught that look on his face.

“Hey, don’t…” He whispers.

“Why not!? I’m hideous!”

“You are not hideous! You’re not even close to hideous! You are very attractive and beautiful—“

“Stop! Just stop. I don’t want to hear this, Sirius.”

“Moony…why? Why do you think like that?”

“I-I never had a scar on my face…before it used to be like the tiny ones on my nose or jaws or my lip or eye or…dammit! Everywhere! They are everywhere!”

“Shh…” Sirius draw close to him and made him sit up. He laces his arms around Remus’ neck, forehead pressed together, breathing each other in.

“This one is the worst, Sirius…my life is the worst! I mean if I was meant to be cursed with this physical affliction, the least God could have done was to spare me with its brutality! I don’t just go through this physical pain, it is the mental pain too! Where I have to stand before this bitter truth that tells me that I have no future. No job, no living, no healthy relationships, fuck! No health at all! I can’t pursue my education because I’m not a human. I can’t have a family of my own. There’s nothing I can have that a normal person does.”

And then he feels lighter. His heart is not heavy anymore. But tears are streaming down his face, wetting his hands in his lap. The most remarkable thing is that Sirius is still breathing him in. They are in the same position. But he doesn’t look up to hold Sirius’ gaze. Sirius is quiet like an obedient cat.

Remus’ hands move, as if they are automatically functioning, and clutches the fabric of Sirius’ shirt on his chest. He still doesn’t meet his eyes. He just clings himself to him. His head resting on his shoulder, and Sirius holds him by his waist.

“I’m sorry.” Sirius whispers in his ear, “I’m sorry you have to go through all of this. I know you said that you don’t want to hear it but it's the truth and you deserve to know it. You are perfect to me. And I don’t think I can be more honest about that. Look, Moony,” He pulls away gently to meet Remus’ eyes.

“Do you care about others’ opinions about you?”

“No—“

“Do you care about our, me, James, Lily, and Peter’s opinion about you?”

Remus knows what answer Sirius expects, but today—at the moment—is Remus’ truth day, he cannot say things that he meant half-heartedly. The truth is and has always been this: He only cares about Sirius Black. It is a mad truth but it is what it is. He was mad. Madly in love with Sirius Black.

“Moony?” Sirius’ eyes narrow down on him skeptically.

“I care about what you think. I care about you, only. It’s strange and weird and insane but it is…it is my truth.” Remus has said it, and there is no turning back because Sirius is looking at him blankly. His face is flushing, his mouth is in a thin line. He presses harder. His lips become thinner, his jaws clenched and his nostrils flares slightly. It is not anger. Remus can tell. He knows him. More than he knows himself. He is trying not to cry but then there are tears floating in those eyes and then fell simultaneously. Then they are falling.

“I just…can’t see you like this…” Sirius says, and Remus knows he is struggling with his voice.

“I’m sorry—“

“Are you mad? No, you don’t have to say sorry, you idiot.” It makes Remus smile because they conversing in whispers and it feels so beautiful, “Of course, you can say all those things to me, you know vent out, don’t keep it inside you. I just…get you know, anxious. I want to make your pain easier for you. I know how much you suffer but I can’t feel exactly how you do. And it makes me feel indebted, I guess? I don’t know…I just want you to be happy.”

Remus tugs a lock of Sirius’ dark hair behind his ear. His index finger still lingering there.

“Remus,” Sirius continues, “I can’t promise to fix all of your problems, but I promise you that you will not be alone in dealing with them. I’m gonna be here as long as it takes, no matter what and how. I love you, you know that right?”

Remus nods at him, blinking away the tears. Sirius leans into Remus’ left and plants his lips on the cheek which has the long jagged scar. His lips are there for longer than they should have been. He is kissing the scar as if it is something sacred.

And just like that, he uses Remus’ position as leverage to make him fall on the bed. And Sirius lays his head on his chest as he grips his torso. Remus can smell the coconut shampoo from his hair.

“You’re beautiful. And that is my truth.”

Remus hears Sirius say before the sleep drifts so quickly by the aid of each other’s warmth and love.

[zhongliologist]

Sub!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x GN!Reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT

Words: 2.7k

A/N: So here’s the promised first part!! I tried to keep this gender neutral so if you are female assigned at birth, then just imagine it’s pegging, and if you’re male assigned at birth, then dick. 

I just want to soft dom him because he deserves to be pampered;;

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

*

Right at the beginning of your relationship with Zhongli, you already knew that there will be days where he would come home, exhausted and tightly wound from all the stress incurred in his job. While he is still as gentlemanly as he always is, it was quite obvious with his shorter remarks and stoic expressions that he needed to blow off some steam.

That’s why, ever so often, you took it upon yourself to take care of all of his needs. He was adamant at first that he was fine, yet the both of you knew he couldn’t really say no to you. Which has thus led you to this night where your lover is seemingly a little worse for wear.

The front door shut with a dull thud. His heavy footfalls on the wooden floor creaking at every tired step he took. A sigh escaped his lips as soon as he entered your shared bedroom—a sound which was a definite indication of his stress.

“Bad day?”

You asked as soon as you greeted him with a small peck on his cheek. Gazing into his weary eyes, you could tell that it had been a busy day today, and the other day as well, and so was the past few weeks. He had been arriving late as well.

Zhongli hummed and caught your hand; intertwining his fingers between yours. “Forgive me, my dear. I do wish to spend more time with you, yet lately, work has kept me occupied.”

“Don’t worry about that. I understand,” you smiled as you brushed away a stray lock of hair from his pretty face. “Why don’t you take a shower first? Let me pamper you tonight?”

Placing a hand over yours, he kissed the inside of your wrist as he gazed at you, eyes turning golden and swirling with desire. Usually, this would mean he would come to lead you to the bed, yet for tonight, Zhongli can relax while you take care of him all night long.

“Very well,” he replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I am in your hands tonight, my love.”

It didn’t take long for him to finish cleaning up as he left the bathroom with only a silky robe to cover him. You waited by a small leather chaise, and looked up as soon as he stepped out.

“Come here, love,” you beckoned with a warm smile, and stood up when your lover was near enough.

Zhongli sighed as he felt your hand brush his long dark locks, eyes closing and only savoring the feeling of your gentle touch. If this was how you would touch him, then he might have to fall deeper in love with you.

“Does it feel good?” you asked softly, watching his every reaction.

“…yes,” he replied, voice beginning to get breathy.

You chuckled. “I know something that’ll make you feel even better.”

Guiding him to the edge of the bed, you coaxed him to sit as you straddled him between your legs. With eyes transfixed to his, you slowly brushed your thumb over his bottom lip, asking silently if he was sure he wanted to continue.

Zhongli’s reply came in the form of parting his lips, allowing your thumb to push pass through. He hummed as he sucked on your digit, never losing his dark gaze on you for a second. With your other hand, you gave light touches on his skin; gliding your fingers on the outline of his collarbones and his sensitive pulses. Sure enough, he was slowly slipping into a haze of desire.

Removing your thumb, you replaced it with your lips against his—starting out slow and soft. Languidly feeling his gentle lips on yours which had a faint taste of floral tea, you cupped his cheeks as you kept on going at your pace.

As you bit on his lower lip, Zhongli moaned which was an opportunity to slip your tongue between his lips. In the same manner, you continued making out as your hands brushed through his hair while his stayed on your hips; meandering circles with his thumb.

Pulling away for some air, you stared at him, who was all flushed and lips swollen. You smiled.

“Relax now, love,” you told him as you leaned to his ear. “I’ll make you feel good.”

With those words, you began to nip on his earlobe, and then made your way down his jaw with a small peppering of kisses. Every time you press your lips on his skin for far too long, he would shudder and you would continue even more until his neck is filled with your marks.

“Nngghh…YN…” he would whisper ever so often, with his neck leaning to the other side for your comfortable access.

In this kind of situation, Zhongli is pretty much malleable to your touch; allowing himself to fall deeper and deeper into submission. You know he just loves your every caress, of how much care you put in making him heady with ecstasy.

Shifting your position in front of him, your thigh easily brushed against his proud erection, making him groan at the sudden friction. You could tell that he was dying to be touched, but despite that, he kept himself steady.

You brushed the hair the was covering his amber eyes. “I won’t touch you yet, but if you can stay still for a while, I’ll give you a reward, ok?”

“…Mhhnn…”

Zhongli could only mumble his agreement as he felt you slip his robe open so his toned chest was visible. Your fingers began caressing his muscles as it quivered in anticipation, his breath hitching every time his skin tingled. Tracing around his skin, your hands eventually settled on his nipples which you pinched without warning.

“Eughh….!”

He jerked up at the sudden stimulation, his hands gripping the sheets with so much force. Yet despite that, you only smirked and continued assaulting the sensitive buds. Zhongli could only endure it even though his patience was wearing thin; moaning when he felt your tongue circle around one.

“YN…I…! Haa….”

“Shh…don’t think of anything else,” you interrupted him, kissing one pert nipple. “Just focus on feeling good.”

As you said those words, you gradually pushed him to the bed; kissing down at every undulating curve of his muscles. You whispered sweet nothings to his skin, praising how beautiful he is and how his grunts were like music to your ears.

Zhongli could feel himself burning at every place your lips and your hands touch; his arousal more than obvious. At times like these, he could feel you more intensely—every vibration of your hums, every caress of your teasing hands—that he couldn’t help but slowly immerse himself with lust.

Pulling away from him, you watched as he squirmed underneath you; a debauched expression on his face which simply fueled you on. Propping his chin up, you once again kissed him, unable to contain yourself. He was hot when he’s dominant but the way he looked at you just now was just in a whole other level.

With a nip on his lips, you smiled at him warmly. “You’re doing great, my baby boy. Let’s prepare you now?”

Despite the thick haze in his head, Zhongli nodded at your suggestion; sighing as you kissed him once more before leaving his side. It was a short while but it felt cold without you next to him, and by the time to got back, he was already eager to bury himself on your shoulders.

You could only smile fondly at his sudden neediness as you brush his silky dark hair. “Come on now, baby. On your knees.”

Zhongli only hummed at your orders, giving you one final squeeze before pulling himself off of you. He couldn’t look at you as he removed his silk robe, his face in a rose blush as soon as he found himself bare before you, but soon enough, he was kneeling on the bed on all fours, ass high up. He knew the drill, he had been in this position for a few times now, and while it was still every bit of embarrassing, he knows he’s in good hands.

“You look so beautiful like this, baby,” you remarked, bringing your hands to caress his full bottom before ghosting a kiss on his skin. “Just one more thing.”

Crawling towards him, you gently mussed his hair as you gave him a tender look. Without a word, you took a silk cloth from the nightstand and wrapped it around his eyes; making him inhale sharply.

“Say the safe word if it gets too much, ok?” you whispered to his ear before going back to your position from before.

Zhongli as he laid there on the bed could only wait for you in anticipation. He doesn’t have a clue what you’ll do next, and it just gives an exhilarating feeling in his chest which he hadn’t felt before. In this position where he could feel you staring down on him, bare and all, he suddenly felt heat on his chest bloom rapidly.

You grinned.

Grasping his now fully hard cock, you heard him gasp at the sudden stimulation; and paired with your mouth on his backside, he could only wish for more friction.

“Your dick looks a bit lonely, doesn’t it, Zhongli?” you spoke, as you kept your hands steady. “You keep on bucking on my hand, you know? Do you to cum already?”

“Nghh…YN….! Please…”

He could only groan, seeking for more stimulation you were definitely not giving. He wanted more, not how you simply kept on pumping his shaft once every few seconds which only made him yearn for more.

You hummed as if reconsidering.

“Maybe if you can hold yourself, I’ll do it?” you replied, giving one area of his butt cheeks a shallow bitemark. “What do you think, my baby boy?”

Zhongli could only bury himself on the pillows, keening as he felt your other hand ghost over his hole. He felt so hot, mind foggy with lust as he trembled every time you circle your thumb around the rim.

It was amazing how pliant Zhongli has become underneath your touch—back arched, mouth drooling and his dick leaking with precum—it was such a sight to behold, and it only made you want to bully him for a little bit.

Leaning down, you lavished his backside with your tongue until your finally reached his hole which you were warming up. You left his cock alone for a while and opted to spread his butt cheeks before going down on him.

“Agghh…! Y-YN…! Haa…that’s…!”

Zhongli could feel your hot tongue on his hole, unable to see anything at all. He could feel you carefully tracing around it, lathering it with your saliva. It was a strangely arousing feeling to be so wet and hot down there but he loved it nevertheless.

“YN…I…can’t…! It’s…nghh!”

You blew some cold air to his hole, earning a jerk from him.

“No cumming, remember?”

“B-But…haa…! Mnnn…! It…feels good…”

Your thumb was back to prodding it. “Now, now. We barely scratched the surface.”

Picking up the lube that was lying by your side, you generously squeezed some on his hole and then to your fingers. Slowly, you worked him up with one finger, pushing in and out as he basically quivered underneath.

“Ahhh….! Ngghh…f-fuck…”

You watched as he struggled to keep himself on check, often biting one of the pillows if he gets too close. With such tenderness, you began worshipping his body once again, peppering small kisses on his back as you kept on opening him up.

Eventually, one finger turned into two as the squelching noise grew louder in the bedroom. Zhongli, with his blindfold, could hear the lewd sound more intensely, making his cock twitch ever so often.

“You take me in so well, baby,” you cooed, giving his skin a bite. “You think you’re ready for a bigger one?”

“Nghh…hnn….YN….! Please…I need…more—!”

You grinned against his skin. “Now that’s a good boy.”

Pulling out your fingers, Zhongli groaned at the sudden emptiness but was then distracted by your weight just beside him.

“Go and taste yourself, baby,” you said, coaxing his lips apart before inserting both your digits into his mouth. Instantly, his tongue was around your fingers, eagerly lapping his juices and no longer caring about how he looked so shameless right now.

“I’ll give you your reward now.”

With a smile and a gentle pat on his head, you slipped your fingers away continued your work on his ass. Spreading his drool on your shaft, you placed it between his butt cheeks and began rubbing him there, occasionally and purposefully brushing against his sensitive hole.

“…Y-YN…! Please…! Aghhh….Eughh….haa!”

“Relax now, baby. I’m going in.”

Applying more lube around the shaft, you gradually inserted it bit by bit so that he isn’t too overwhelmed. You could hear him struggling to keep himself calm with bated breaths, so you kept on distracting him with small kisses on his back, and a hand massaging the tip of his dick.

It was this exact moment which Zhongli had long been anticipating. Even if he feels a little bit light headed from all the stimulation, the feeling of being so full of you was enough to push him to the edge of orgasm.

You kept on moving slowly and gradually, pushing and pulling deeper until you were buried in him to the hilt. You allowed him some time to breathe.

“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you, my baby?” you remarked, hands squeezing tight on his hips as you steadied him. “You took me in so well. I’ll make you feel good soon enough.”

As soon as you said the last word, you pulled out of him almost entirely and then pushed abruptly back, making him groan loudly. Zhongli was grasping tightly on the sheets as if it they were close to tearing out, but you kept on moving, and often rubbing his painfully hard cock from time to time.

“Eughhhh….! Aghh….haa…f-fuck…YN…N-nhh!”

“Does it feel good, baby?”

Pushing deeper, you leaned in forward to take a small bite on his skin, as you felt him twitch on your hand. With nothing comprehensible leaving his lips, you decided to grab a fistful of his long hair and kissed him square on the lips.

With every thrust, he would moan in your mouth, his limbs trembling from the overstimulation. You began to wonder what he would look like if he saw himself being done by you. So in an impulsive act, you tugged his blindfold off, catching him with half-lidded eyes and tongue out as he felt you push against his prostate.

“Ahh…haaa…” you smirked in between kisses. “If only you could see how fucked out you look, baby.”

 Yet there was no moment for him to blush and hide his face. You kept your brutal pace in his hole, rubbing his dick as your other hand held on to his hair. Zhongli could feel himself right at the edge of the precipice—it felt so good to be filled by you, to be pounded so relentlessly.

“Nghh…! Eughh….a-aghh! So…deep….fuck—YN…! I’m…!”

“You’re close aren’t you, baby?” you asked, tongue rolling against his. “You can cum now. Let’s come together…”

Within a few thrusts and a particularly deep one, Zhongli finally reached his climax; squeezing around you as his seed stained both your hands and the sheets. A few moments after, you also shuddered as you bit on his shoulder; your orgasm washing over you.

For a while, the both of you stayed like this as you chased your breaths, but eventually, you pulled out of him and coaxed him gently into a good position. Embracing him as he embraced you, you gave one last chaste kiss as you pushed away his locks that were drenched with sweat.

“You ok, love?” you asked, nuzzling on his shoulder; all the dominance from earlier entirely gone.

Zhongli hummed satisfactorily beside you, his chest rumbling with how deep his voice is. “Yes, it was good…thank you, my dear…”

At his words, you smiled sweetly and pulled him even closer to you. Zhongli had already forgotten all about his stress, and instead basked on the afterglow of you together. Propping his chin on top of your head, he kissed you there.

“Dear?”

“Yeah?” you perked up.

“You have day off tomorrow, is that correct?”

“Yes, why are you—”

“Let’s go take another bath.”

[thatonecoryosimp]

The Devil's Mercenary Pt. 5 Technoblade X reader

Well, y'all here's part 5, I hope you enjoy it, if you have any idea that you want to see in the next parts, then speak now or forever hold your peace XD. Happy 50 follower special btw, it's 51 now!!! Date: September 19, 2021

Series Masterlist

Part 6

I woke up hours later, the bed was so warm, but the mattress was firm and kind of bumpy. My eyes fluttered slightly before completely opening. I was met with familiar pink hair, I tried to shoot back, only to have arms hold me down.

I fought for a second, trying to pressure my way out of the tiny prison I was being held in. His arms tugged harder causing me to fall forward again.

I huffed and blew a piece of hair out of my eyes. I glared at the sleeping man as I tried to shuffle into a comfortable position. He was really warm though. I guess that has to do with the piglin part of him, the creatures are naturally warm.

I almost hated the way I relaxed in his arms, but I couldn't resist folding into his body heat and shutting my eyes. I sighed, completely content for that little moment of time. I was in my own head, my own heaven. It felt so nice, especially considering the last couple of days.

Why does everything I like have to do with the people I'm supposed to hate? It just doesn't make sense. The slight movement caught my attention. I felt him stretch from underneath me before his pinky-red eyes opened.

He squinted slightly before shooting up in shock, it was such a sudden movement that I almost fell off the bed.

"Hey, watch it bitch," I huffed.

"What the fuck were you doing!?"

"ME?! I WAS THE VICTIM HERE YOU STUPID PIG!" He shot me a glare.

"Then why the fuck did I just wake up to you sleeping on me?"

"You were the one that pulled me onto your chest." He grumbled slightly.

"Just get off me." With that, I slid off his lap without protest.

"Get out so I can change," I glowered. He stood and made his way out of the room, grabbing his bag on his way out.

~~~~

"When are we heading back?"

"Around noon," he answered shortly. I looked out the window.

"Do I have time to go swimming?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me. His lips curled slightly in confusion, his nose scrunching.

"Where the fuck are you going to go swimming?"

"The ocean, dipshit."

"Whatever, you have a couple hours."

I smiled to myself in victory. I ran to change again, I didn't have a swimming suit so I'm gonna just have to go in my underwear. Fine by me.

I made my merry way outside, a smile dancing on my features as I took in the beautiful sight before me. I ran into the ocean causing the water to splash up into my face and onto the beach.

The sun was reflecting off the clear surface as I began to dive under the water. My eyes opened and I saw all of the beautiful decour the Earth had decorated for me. My grin was spread from ear to ear as I began to swim.

My head bobbed to the surface before I dove back down. Making my way to the multi-colored coral. The fish swam around me like I wasn't even there. I could hear the playful cries of dolphins above me as I moved through the water.

My hair floated above me in all directions as I froze slightly, just looking out at the ocean floor. I swam upwards in quick strokes, catching my breath as I made my way back to the beach. I heard a squeaky door open and I looked over to see Technoblade standing on the sand.

I rushed over to him and out of the water. His face bloomed in a giant blush as I ran to him. My hair was wet and sticking together in different strands.

"You should get in with me, it's really relaxing," my voice was surprisingly calm as I stood before him.

"I don't know..." he mumbled as he looked out at the water.

"Don't be silly, come on," I persuaded. He sighed, shoulders slightly slumping.

"Fine."

He pulled off his shirt and pants, my grin was contagious as I turned away and began to make my way back. The golden substance was sticking to my feet as I padded into the water.

Heavy footsteps followed me before stopping. I turned towards him, he was standing just before the waves. I raised an eyebrow at him before reaching forward and grabbing his hand. I pulled him towards me.

His eyes widened as he stumbled forwards. The water caught him as he stood there with me. He was looking at me with such intensity. It was the same way Dream looked at me, except more gaurded.

I brushed it off before pulling him deeper into the ocean. Today was gonna be fun.

~~~~

We were both drying off while laughing. It was getting to be noon, which was unfortunate, but inevitable. Time is merciless, it waits for nobody.

Clothes were on, bags were grabbed, and the image of the beautiful ocean was fading from view. The valley we were walking through was still nice, and it held the same clean breeze, but soon it would be gone too.

A melancholy feeling took over as I spared one last glance at the old shack.

"Tech?"

"Yeah?" He asked as he looked down at me.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Depends."

I smiled slightly to myself, "Promise me we'll come back here."

He smiled slightly, "I promise."

[winslctrg]

I Love You, With A Touch Of Tragedy And Quite Madly. (Mildred Ratched x Reader)

summary: a regular day at work turns out to be not so regular

a/n: this is for @sassicaismysupreme surpriseeee i was ur secret fic writer. Not important, but this is my first fic ever so i hope it is any good!

warnings: slapping, angst!

Your relationship with Mildred was a fairytale. You were all sunshine and blue skies. Though some clouds might be there with the occasional rainy day, there were rarely thunderstorms.

Mildred only added to your sunshine. She has been like some sort of rainbow hanging above your little heart island, making it a happier place. Rainbows are rare and special, and that’s also how you looked at Mildred.

It had always been happy. You were used to it like that, and you liked it that way. No complications, no anxiety, no fears, no anger. Mildred was some sort of safe haven where you just never had any problems. That's probably why the situation affected you so much.

It was one of those blue sky, happy sunny days. You opened your eyes, closed them again against the rays that fell right through your curtains. You couldn't be annoyed for long though, because your head immediately met your sleeping girlfriend's.

Your mouth fell into a soft smile upon seeing her. She always seemed to have that effect on you, no matter where you guys were. It once even happened at a funeral, and Mildred had to give u a soft warning glare. Not that that helped though, it only made you smile more. She made you smile. At home, at work, in the grocery store, on the street, at parties, anywhere at anytime. She was quite simply everything to you.

You pressed a soft kiss on her temple “Wake up darling, we’ll be late.” You whispered, before running your hand softly through her hair. The sun made her features even more gorgeous than they usually were, accentuating her sharp cheekbones and her beautiful big lips. Your hand left her hair and ran softly from the forming frown between her eyebrows all the way down to her nose before putting it on her now blushing cheeks.

“Goodmorning sunshine.” You giggled. A soft smile spread on Mildred’s face as she finally opened her eyes. Her brown eyes looked nearly gold because of the sun. You begged. Wished to stay like this forever, but the alarm went off, pulling you both out of your trances. You grinned at her before you sat up and grabbed her wrist. She positioned herself right in your arms. You let your nose slip into her beautiful reddish-brown hair, smelling her expensive shampoo.

You never got used to moments like these. They made your heart race, and you were sure it also grew 3 times bigger. “I love you” you whispered into her hair, as if making a promise to yourself that your heart would forever beat for her. “I love you too honey.” She said before yawning. “Aww are you sleepy baby?” you teased. “Did i wear you out last night?” your said, and you winked at her. Mildred glared at you, but you could see the pink tones covering her ears and cheeks. You kissed her softly, before pulling away again but resting your forehead against hers, noses touching. “We have to get ready.” You whispered. “I know.” She replied. She put her soft hands on your cheeks, as her long slender thumbs started stroking the area right beside your nose. “I love you.” You said again, just for the sake of reassuring your promise to her. She knew, because she smiled and when you looked deep into her warm brown eyes you saw that same promise. “I love you too, lets get dressed.”

You were in the car to work, both of you working at the hospital. Mildred drove, always. You did try once, but then nearly hit a car because you were too busy staring at her. You didn’t mind not driving, it meant you could stare at her without the posibillity of killing an entire family and their dog.

As you both arrived on the parking lot, you made sure your hat was on right and straightened Mildred’s too. You glanced around, saw nobody and kissed her. It always cleared your mind, kissing her. It seemed to draw out any negative feelings and fill your head with love, much like a love potion.

You both stepped out of the car and went to your respective entrances. You gave Mildred a small smile before parting.

Work went slowly, but good. You were good friends with Huck, and he made time speed up just a little faster, plus seeing Mildred at lunch really made you optimistic again.

After lunch, Mildred called you and Huck to a treatment room. There was a girl there, around your age, and she looked frightened.

“Nurse Finnigan, nurse y/l/n, this is miss Ruth Davis. She’s here because of unexplainable feelings towards women, which is simply unacceptable, don’t you guys think?” You pushed up an eyebrow and looked at Huck, who also had a confused expression on his face. “Well?” Mildred asked, a slight tinge to her tone now. Huck cleared his throat. “Yeah uh sure, unacceptable.”

You, however shook your head. “I don’t think she should be tortured simply for liking women. I don’t see a problem with it honestly.” You said as calmly as you could. You met Hucks gaze, saw his shocked eyes but also his slight grin. You averted your gaze to meet Mildreds eyes, saw a flash of panic. Panic? No, now it was definitely anger. “Nurse y/l/n thats incredibly inappropriate. I suggest you find another job if you think that way.” She said, her voice sounded a little too forced for your liking. “I’d gladly do, but um I know you don’t have a problem with it either.” You said and moved your head to look at the girl. “She doesn’t,” you told her. “I’d know-“

Before you had the time to finish your sentence, you felt a hard burning on your cheek and you stumbled tot he ground. She had hit you. Your mind was running 800 miles per second. You stared back up at her with tears threatening to come out of your eyes.

“I should’ve known it wasn’t real, right? That this was all a big game to you. That you didn’t actually care about me.” You whispered and you tried to lean on your shakey hands. “I’m sorry for believing you didn’t actually hate me, I’m sorry you had to keep your act up for so long. I just thought-“ your voice broke mid sentence. “I thought we were happy.” You blinked. Didn’t, couldn’t look at her. You opened your mouth to speak again, but instead a sob made it’s way out. You shook your head feverently and ran past her. “Don’t come after me.” You murmered as your shoulders touched. Away. Away. Away.

You didn’t know how long you had ran for, you wondered how you had even kept on going that far. Breathing was becoming, air scraping it’s way through your lungs, making them bleed. Doesn’t matter, you told yourself. It definitley wasn’t bleeding as badly as your heart

You only ever wanted to be hers. To watch the sunset with her ever night in the summer, and sit by the ocean just because you could. To give her hugs for warmth when she had underestimated the cool sting of the autumn air. To hold her hand on walks during the snow in the winter, and buy her the perfect christmas presents. To pick her some blooming daisies and lavender and violets in the spring and make a bouqet, just for her. You wanted to make her feel wanted.

You came to a halt as you realized where you had run to. Her house. Because that was home. She was. Your face crumpled and you started sobbing. You rand to the nearest wall to steady yourself, before giving up and letting yourself slide down the wall. You let your head fall in your hands and buried your shaking fingers in your hair.

“Yes, I’m scared of you! You hit me!” you screamed out, voice breaking halfway through out of frustration, anger and love. That one was hard to admit, but you knew you were mad because you loved her. Because you had spent months making a flower garden with all of your memories, and all that you knew of her, and all of your feelings, and she had just set it on fire.

“Look y/n I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do.” She said. Her voice was soft and you tried to listen for any sign of a lie. You couldn’t find any. You whipped your head up, glaring at her with such passion that even you were scared of what you were capable of. “You should’ve thought about that before you put you whole palm on my face, don’t you think?” you snarled. You saw her chin tremble, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “You know, you always tell your patients not to be afraid, but i don’t think there’s anyone that’s more scared than you. I know you are, don’t even pretend you aren’t. I know you.” You paused for a second, took a shaky breath in, cursed at yourself internally. “You might not know it, but I do. 4 months don’t just go by, Mildred. Neither for you nor for me.”

You saw a tear slip out of her eye. “I’m so sorry y/n. I do know. I do care. I’m sorry.” She breathed, and you could practically hear your heart break. “I don’t know what to do, but I do care. I can’t-“ her sentence got broken up by a big intake of breath, before a loud sob escaped her mouth. “I was so scared.” She cried. Your eyebrow pushed up. You should've known she was afraid, should've known she never agreed to do the therapy, should’ve known you burnt your own flowers the minute you started talking. But you were confused, and you felt hurt and you reacted on that.

You didn't even think about her feelings, if you were going to be honest with yourself. You wanted to feel guilty, but deep down you knew you couldn’t blame yourself. She hurt you, she hit you and that wasn’t going to be forgotten in a heartbeat.

But you loved her. More than anything. And so you tried to pick up all of the broken pieces, yours and hers, and tried to glue all of it into one big love ball.

“I’m not gonna say that its okay, Mildred, because it’s not and you know that.” You started. You saw her eyes scarily looking up into yours. You took a deep breath in before continuing. “But this doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore.” Her eyes watered again. “It doesn’t?” You shook your head. “No it doesn’t, but you try doing that again and I won’t give you another chance.” Mildred shook her head violently. “Alright, come on, we’ll go home.”

That night before you guys went to bed, you approached her.

“Mildred,” you said as she was going to the bathroom. She turned around, her beautiful curls falling just right over her shoulders. “Yeah?” she said. You smiled. “I love you.” She hid a small blush while turning back around. “I love you too darling.” She replied. You smiled to yourself. Though this was too big of an issue to just blow over, you knew you and Mildred would work through it. Because you loved her, even if it was tragedy sometimes.

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || 10

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be. he is the perfect gentleman, after all.

warnings: f!reader, implied nsfw, reader is hopelessly infatuated with iwaizumi but who isn’t 

wc: 1.5k

m.list |  ch. 9 ↞ ch. 10 ↠ ch. 11

It’s strange, waking up in a bed that’s not your own in your very own house.

Stranger yet is that you have nothing to blame expect your own temper. You weren’t there because you’d drunk too much or taken something that’d impair your judgement.

You were there simply because you’d gotten so angry.

What happened didn’t fix anything. Maybe it’d just make everything messier.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to be upset about it. Not when Iwaizumi’s arms were wrapped around your waist and his peaceful sleeping face was just a breath away from yours.

He looks so soft, that small kink in his brow that’s around so often he may as well trademark it is gone, the corners of his mouth are upturned instead of tugged downwards by the weight of all his responsibilities, his hair all un-styled and messy due to all your ‘hard work’ last night.

Your eyes flicked down to a red mark on his collarbone. Whoops.

Granted, perhaps you should’ve been grateful that was the only obvious remnant from the events of the previous evening. Not that you had any idea what you looked like. Maybe you hadn’t made it out so clean.

Regardless, you just wanted to take the moment to admire him, to let yourself lie in this quiet moment.

Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered open, still heavy with sleep.

You held your breath.

What if he regretted it? What if the morning brought some kind of change? What if he’d had the so called ‘post-nut clarity’?

The softest smile you’d ever seen spread across his face as his eyes focused on you.

It’s enough to make you blush, all things considered.

He brought a rough hand up to cup your face, running his thumb gently over your cheek.

“Good morning,” he murmured, in what was perhaps the sexiest voice you’d ever heard.

“Morning,” you whispered back. God, why were you so bashful?

Iwaizumi was still smiling at you, an overwhelmingly fond look in his eyes.

“Sleep well?” He yawned, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “You?”

“Best I’ve slept in ages,” he mumbled, gently tugging you closer to him. You conceded.

His shirtless torso was so warm, so inviting. And his arms… His arms… You’d fantasised about being wrapped in those muscular arms of his more times than you were willing to admit, but you were delighted to report that they did not disappoint.

This whole morning felt it was straight out of one of your teenage daydreams.

“Don’t you go for runs in the morning?” You asked, smoothing a hand over his side and up his back. It was enough to make your cheeks flare up again, but he couldn’t be the only one being all touchy.

Iwaizumi grunted, burying his face in your neck.

You giggled as his breath tickled your skin. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t just abandon me.”

Iwaizumi chuckled lowly, smoothing his large hand over the small of your back.

You shivered against his touch. It was almost like every nerve in your body was on fire. Iwaizumi still seemed positively sleepy, but you were wide awake.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi murmured, his lips brushing against your neck.

“Hm?”

“Is this what you want?” He asked.

You paused. Did he mean… this? The situation you’re in right now? Or did he mean ‘this’ on the broader scale? As in…

“What do you think?” You mumbled, your chest fluttering as you tightened your arms around his shoulders. It was safer not to assume anything. Not when it came to Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi chuckled, his breath tickling your collarbone. “It’s a serious question.”

“Are you asking me if I want…” You trailed off, your mind caught in a war between dramatized recollections of last night and the will to discuss said events seriously.

“I’m asking you if you’ll have me,” Iwaizumi murmured, his voice low. “If you want to give us a shot.”

Everything stopped. Was this… was this really happening?

It felt irresponsible to let yourself believe that. Not when there was still so much unresolved tension.  

“Hajime…” You gazed at him for a long moment, your eyes roaming his face. “But, last time…”

“I was an idiot,” he smiled. “I thought we established that.”

“I know,” you pouted. “But what about…”

Tooru.

You don’t need to say it. Iwaizumi understood.

“Hey…” He brought a hand up to your cheek, caressing it gently. “I want to be with you.”

He’d said them. The words you’d always wanted to hear.

But it still wasn’t enough.

“Are you willing to say that to Tooru?” Perhaps your tone was firmer than it needed to be. Perhaps the question ruined the mood.

But you deserved an answer.

One quiet, frozen moment.

“I have to,” he murmured.

“What if he gets angry?” You asked.

That was one of the things he’d been so scared of all those years ago. It was only one brick in the wall between you; but if you had to chip away at it bit by bit, you would.

There was a long pause.

“This is what you want, right?” Iwaizumi’s voice was more fragile than you’d ever heard before.

“Is this what you want?” Given the situation, it might seem like a stupid question. But you weren’t going to make him fight for this if it wasn’t

“Yes.” He said it without hesitation. “I should’ve told you that a long time ago.”

“Yes, you should’ve,” you grumbled.

But your chest felt like it was both collapsing and expanding. It was like flowers made of light were sprouting from your bone marrow, twining through your ribcage and tickling your lungs.

Not that you’d let him know that.

“But… if he gets angry, we’ll just… have to work it out,” you said. It didn’t feel like much of a solution. It was barely even a comfort. But, you had to say it. Even if it was just a promise to yourself that you’d face this, even if every instinct was telling you to run.

“I can talk to him alone,” Iwaizumi said.

“But—”

“He’ll be angrier at me.”

You bit your lip. “I… I guess.”

Iwaizumi was right. But part of you felt like that was only the case because Tooru kept babying you. It was like he thought you were still twelve, young and innocent and completely unaware of the world of relationships.

But Tooru had to accept that you were growing up. Iwaizumi Hajime was part of this, whether by sheer chance or as some part of a great cosmic prank.

“We’ll tell him together,” you said.

Iwaizumi lifted his head and stared at you, eyes slightly round. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That seems fair.”

“But—”

“I’m not a doll, Hajime,” you said. “If Tooru thinks he has a right to dictate who I can and can’t be involved with, then he’s going to have to speak to me about it.” 

Iwaizumi laughed. A true, genuine laugh. It was a beautiful sound.

“My bad,” he smiled, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair. “We’ll talk to him together, then.”

It was happening. It was finally happening.

Iwaizumi Hajime was within your reach. And this time, he wasn’t running away. This time, he was letting you in with open arms.

Nice as it was, it was disorienting. You didn’t know what to feel – proud? Ashamed? Stupid?

You were lying in his bed, after all. You can think of at least one person who’d berate you for that.

But Amaya’s inevitable scolding aside, you don’t feel… bad, about it. Was that just because you hadn’t really done anything like this before? Were you moving too fast? Or was it okay, given your history? But then again, your history probably meant you’d need to go even slower…

“Hey, Hajime?” You asked, your voice tiny.

“Hm?”

“Do you think we… rushed things?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he sighed, drawing back from you. “If you want to slow down, then—”

“No.” Your cheeks bloomed red in recognition of how embarrassingly quickly you’d cut him off.

Iwaizumi smirks. “No?”

“I just mean that—well, you know—” You swallowed, rifling through your brain like an office worker who’d lost a very important piece of paper. “It’s just that—we’ve already, you know…”

Iwaizumi laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way you’d always adored. “Are you saying you can’t keep your hands off me?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” you huffed. “You pervert.”

“Pervert?” He grinned. “If I remember correctly, you were the one begging for—”

You kissed him coarsely in a meagre attempt to shut him up. You felt him smile against your lips, his hand moving down from your waist to your ass.

“Like I said,” you mumbled against his lips, “Pervert.”

Iwaizumi chuckled. The warmth of the sound spread from his lips through your whole body. 

This is where you were meant to be. 

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: hh hi sorry this is incredibly overdue i hope it doesn’t disappoint 

[mochikeiji]

Kinktober Day 2: Blackout Bear

↠ Pairing: Asahi Azumane x Reader

↠ Warning: SMUT! Blowjobs, Asahi going a little rough, calls you good girl, sub-ish!Asahi, blackout in the neighborhood.

↬ Word Count: 2.8k

⇢ Day 2: Blowjobs

Timid, intimidating, soft, delinquent.

That was all the most mentioned personality to define the former ace from Karasuno. His features screamed dominance; that typical big guy who's all in for the roughness and up to no good. But to those who truly knew who he was, Asahi Azumane was a huge softy. He was too kind for his own good, easily affected for when someone was rough with him and would make anyone fight for him.

For you, he was bear.

Sometimes a loving, fuzzy ball of big, warm cuddles and kisses. Sometimes a feral beast ready to pounce on you for when he was hungry. The experience was phenomenal. You actually thought you were going to top him sometimes when it came to sex; giddy of all the possible things you could do to him, especially at this hour where the power was out in your entire neighborhood to pass the time.

But like with a certain orange haired boy, Hinata Shoyo, Asahi wasn't going to back down when it came to dominance. Let alone in bed. With the windows wide open in your bedroom and the curtains flowing from the cold, hustling wind outside, sweat wasn't a problem anymore as you clawed his broad back from the tingling love bites he was marking all over your neck and chest.

"Azumane— hng, please."

Shocks of pleasure zapped from your spine when he bit the tender flesh between your shoulder blade and neck. He groans as your hips thrusted up and grinded against his erection, gladly mirroring your actions with a little force to ground your hips down with his rutting.

"Mm, stop it baby."

Pulling away from your neck, he immediately captures your lips with his, delivering you with a heated, tongue battling kiss. Occasionally squeezing your sides to hear your little squeaks that made him harder than he was seconds ago.

"I'm only getting harder."

It sent your lower regions trembling by the sound of his voice growing deeper than ever.  You knew you couldn't dominate him even if you wanted. When Asahi's demeanor changes to this beast bestowed upon you, you were instantly done for.

The bulge restrained from the boxers he was wearing poked your clothed cunt. Both of you stripped down with the remains of your underwear. Moaning softly at the rock hard tip, you can feel yourself clench down wanting nothing more than to invite him inside and let him shape your insides with his cock.

He pulls away from the kiss to let you breathe, to this day now it still surprises him to see how disheveled you could easily get from his small gestures as his eyes raked down to your glowing body with the moon shining brightly by the window.

"Beautiful."

One word that sent you over the edge even at your state. Never a time where he would go rough on you even if you pleaded him to. Every moment of the day he never misses his chance to declare something about you. Whether it was a simple compliment or small gifts given, Asahi would turn into as soft as a marshmallow during those times.

Smiling goofily at him after sighing away the small bliss given to you, biting your lip at the way he was looking right now thanks to the dim light of the moon outside, your head began to ponder images on how godly he would look under the light of the night for when you give him the desire only you possess.

"Azumane, please, let me suck you off."

The wetness in your underwear didn't compare to your goal to be the one to control his orgasm and to have him fuck your mouth. Noticing the change of his expression, you could tell he had the slightest tint of blush bloom in his face from your request. Even if he was the one on top, it still makes him flustered to hear such dirty desires come out from your mouth. He wouldn't admit it, but hearing you plead to suck on his cock made his grip on your hips tighten and his breathing deeper.

"I don't know, baby."

He sounded unsure yet teasing. Loved seeing you get riled up and whine beneath him, pleading for him to grant your request and saying that you would do anything, promising him the best one to ever experience.

"Please, Azumane. Please, I'll be good."

You were aching down there, spasming to nothing but his tip still poking your clothed cunt. You wanted to suck him off to get this done with and for him to finally have his way with you. Knowing how much you needed this to drive you to your own pleasure.

Callused palm went in contact with your cheek as your breath hitched. He caressed it filled with love and adoration. Gentleness he swore to have every time he's around you and gives you one last kiss on the lips before pulling away with the tips of your noses touching.

"Tell me to stop when you can't handle it, okay?"

Eyes lighting up, you hear him chuckle under his breath. The bed sheets can be heard rustling from the change of position. Asahi settles himself to your previous position and you knelt on bed between his legs, licking your lips idly at the sight of his bulge.

"Go on, baby. It's all yours to touch."

Asahi himself didn't notice the way how he whispered. The meaning that sentence holds sent his member twitching in need, you gulped when you saw the slightest movements and couldn't stop your hand from placing firmly against the cloth and gave it a squeeze.

Moaning, he grips the sheets from his sides,  creating a small spot of wetness from his tip from your ministrations. You have him where you wanted him, sliding off his boxers almost too quickly, the restraints finally freeing his cock that stood proudly and leaking. The veins prominently raging, demanding for attention and relief in anyway from you.

"You're so big, Azumane."

Normally, he would blush at that saying, but seeing you drool over and eyeing his cock with lust and want, he actually gave you a killer smirk that made your thighs clench for him.

"Think your mouth can handle it? This is your first time sucking me off, right?"

Gulping, your body automatically lays itself down to your stomach. Now face to face with the long, gritty length that was about to be inside your small mouth. You blew soft air on the skin of his length, still amazed by the way it twitches at the simplest of contact with anything.

When Asahi's thighs parts themselves after your little trick, you took it as a message that he wanted much more than that and ran a finger down to the side of his cock. Your index finger softly tracing down to his balls, then up slowly to the way to his tip. His thighs jolted when your finger moved up, the direction of his member moving to the right for when you ran your finger up to the left side.

Having enough of the edging game, you used your thumb to circle the tip. From above, Asahi hissed at the stinging sensation due to the sensitivity that part of his cock holds. Alarming you, you immediately just wrapped your entire hand around his shaft. He sighs in relief, sucking in his stomach after your action and proceeding to spread the substance he has made around his cock.

The sounds it made as you flicked your wrist up and down was arousing; exciting you further to get a taste of his cum in your mouth. Tongue peeking out from your lips like a sneaky little pest, while his eyes were shut in concentration you took this as an opportunity to now tease his glistening cock head with the tip of your tongue poking. His fingers twitched underneath the sheets when your tongue joined in the fun. After giving him a few kitten licks and slow stroking, you flattened your tongue on his tip.

"Crap."

He curses under his breath. The wet muscle now sliding down at the sides of his length, with your playful hands occasionally squeezing his balls for additional pleasure.

"For a first timer, you sure do know how to- ah- work a man up."

Your cheeks flushed. It wasn't that you were a first timer. Credits to the things you've read and watched over the internet for when he was away and your friends for practically shoving sexual discussions over your phone. Curiosity was dangerous, but thank goodness you still remembered the movements made from most partners whenever they start a first blowjob.

Retracting your tongue and hand back, you placed both palms at each side of his thigh to give them a pinch. Asahi flinches at the action and was about to look down and ask why did you do such thing. Only for him to realize it was your sign saying that you were about to engulf him in your mouth. It made him moan instinctively when the mushroom head of his cock first enters your lips.

The muscle inside your mouth greeting it with licks as you adjusted your jaw and try to fit in slowly the rest of him. Yes, big guy definitely expect big junior as well. Even with a slow pace, your brows scrunched and furrowed in frustration and exhaustion. Maybe it was only about one to two minutes since you've had just the first part of his cock in your mouth, and your jaw was starting to grow tired.

Asahi took a notice on this as he observed you. Despite experiencing an excruciating amount of pleasure down there, he reminded himself that this was your first time giving him and he knew he had to stop when he knows you were getting uncomfortable.

"(Y/n), you can stop if you're getting hurt. I can handle the rest."

Treading his fingers through your hair, he gently tugs you up away from his soaking member, allowing you to pant and move your jaw up and down to soothe away the numbness.

"I'm really proud you tried, baby. Don't be too hard on yourself."

But you were a fierce being. Pouting, you pushed away his hand from your head and wiped away the saliva that hung on the side of your mouth with the back of your hand.

"I want to continue."

"But baby-"

"Please? You can help me, but please let me continue. You've been too good to me, baby. I want to give you something back."

Like you thought earlier, Asahi is the top in this relationship. It's always him prioritizing your needs first. Even in sex, it's you who gets most of the fun. But now finally having a chance to do something for him even though it was a pain in the ass, you couldn't help but like the feeling a little and gave it another chance to adjust to you.

Asahi knows how stubborn you are. Even the littlest of things, when you want to do something, you will do it. One of the reasons why he's smitten for you was your determination. Even in sex.

"I love you, okay? I'm more than fine just having you, but if you insists, I'll go slow with you, okay?"

Re adjusting your position, exhaling out in concentration, you grabbed onto his shaft once more. Asahi hisses at the cold contact of your palm once again to his hot member, pumping it for a good preparation until he was twitching once more and engulfing him in your mouth.

The bed shuffles as Asahi sat himself up, his bigger hands cupping your head with a breathy moan and pushes your head slowly to swallow up more of him.

"Relax your jaw, baby. Breathe."

You did as you were told, it took at least 30 seconds for your jaw to fully relax. After that, you exhaled a breath from your nose, feeling his dick slide in the wet cavern in ease. Gripping his thighs as he inches slowly inside your mouth, Asahi was already gritting his teeth at the hot, wet feeling that was your mouth. Fingers almost tugging your hair with much force than earlier, and you find yourself loving how slowly he was bound to break.

You wanted to see how animalistic your softy of a boyfriend could go, bracing yourself and breathing in harshly, you hallowed your cheeks and pushed yourself deeper to engulf his cock entirely. Nose now in contact with his pelvic bone as you hummed in the slightest bit of stinging and satisfaction.

"Fuck, don't—"

His head bows down to the crown of your head. Ragged breathing to the feeling of his cock pulsating inside your tight throat, he tries to pull away from the euphoric feeling. Afraid that his own lust would take over, but your eyes sparkled in a mischievous way and held onto his thighs tighter. Sounding out a moan of vibrations to his cock to deliver him another wave of heavenly approach, Asahi moans loudly, shutting his eyes instinctively with you bobbing your head out and pushing back in.

"F-fuck, don't, hah, m-moan there."

His cursing made you giggle despite chowing down on his cock. Your tongue swirled delightfully at the skin, tracing the angry veins, eager for relief. Continuing your treatment, you noticed that you couldn't move further away from his tip. The hand at the back of your head was blocking you, as if he was the one settling the pace from the start. Raising a brow in amusement, you forced your head to pull away from his shaft and sucked the life at the tip of his cock— where he was most sensitive.

"gAh— (Y/n)! F-fu—"

He could no longer continue his words, letting himself fall back to bed to let out a string of moans and prayers for mercy at the way you suckled on his tip. Toned body now forming sweat at the heat that was now getting into his system. Whimpering at his cock, you could feel yourself getting wet at his state. You wanted to be in the same euphoria he was in later on. Sliding a finger down to your panties, you rubbed your clit with small circles, mewling against his cock as you bobbed back in to take him whole.

Your fingers stimulation and Asahi beneath you was enough to make you approach your own orgasm. One more push and you knew at any moment the both of you were going to burst. Quickening the pace of your fingers, in sync, your head bobs up and down his cock, now fully adjusted to his length.

"God, so good. Good girl. Please."

Stroking your hair whilst looking down to your teary eyes with his own hazy ones, he gives you a tired smile and touches your cheek, feeling the movement of his cock sliding inside making him groan. The way your other arm was occupied with touching yourself, he can feel himself twitch more at the sight of you getting off with this.

"Good girl, ah— I'm going to cum..Please, I'll take good care of you after this."

Your whimpers were at the same volume as his moans. Eager to finally feel and taste his cum, your other hand came in and started teasing his balls. Asahi yells out when your finger tips grazed at the sensitive skin and gave it squeezes. His grip on your hair felt like he was going to pull it from the roots with his hips now thrusting on their own inside your mouth. He took control of your head, saliva drooling at the corners of your lips whenever he'd slam back, unable to stop yourself from moaning at your throat being fucked, your fingers pinched along your clit with your hand stroking his balls still.

"Shit, shit, I'm cumming, cumming. Take it baby."

Thus came his load spilling spurts inside your throat. Your eyes widened as you choked onto his cock, but immediately swallowing the salty substance like a good girl, holding your head in place to finish himself. Asahi pants, he can himself pulsate once, twice, until it came to a full stop. Finally raising his head, he pulls out quickly and lifts you up from your position with ease, laying you back down your bed with a slightly pounding head.

There was a bit of cum hung over your lips, he came a lot that you didn't manage to swallow him fully, but it was definitely addicting to see him in a disheveled state and losing himself. His thumb swiped away the string of substance on your mouth and massages your cheek with peppering kisses.

"Sorry, I got too into it."

His beard tickled, but nevertheless you let yourself snuggle onto his face with pure bliss written all over your features.

"I loved it."

He laughs at your claim, eyes gazing down to your panties that were almost off of your hips from when you were touching yourself earlier. Giving you one last kiss on the lips, your legs were lifted up to his shoulders, cock getting hard by the second and slapping against your cunt, you gulped at his darkened look as he licks his lips in anticipation.

"My turn."

[katwritessometimes]

Temptations

Reformed Hero!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x Villain! Reader

A collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Citru s Dome Server 

Read the other entries HERE 

Warnings: it's pwp, lil bit of choking, lil bit of degradation little bit of anal play. Reader calls him Daddy like twice. Filth all around

5kish words (shout out to the lovely @teddieh​​ who beta read it for me UwU) 

Read it on Ao3

It was like an itch, Touya knew he shouldn’t walk over, knew he should be staying away from you until reinforcements arrived. He knew that if he stepped foot into that room everything he’d been working for, his redemption, it would all go down the drain. But reinforcements wouldn’t be reaching their location for at least another hour and he really couldn’t help himself. 

It's how Touya Todoroki, Bright Burn, reformed cremation hero, ends up standing in front of his bound target. You were just as beautiful as Touya remembered. Despite the muzzle snug tight against your face, and the quirk canceling collar clasped around your neck. Touya admired the ever-present ferocity behind your stare. Your eyes were trained on him the second he walked into the room he was keeping you captive in. Shifting against your restraints, a sly smile creeps its way onto your lips as Touya ventures closer into the room. 

“Awe, finally worthy of your presence, am I?” Your voice is deceivingly soft and steady, a deceptive sweetness to it that you always used to your advantage. Thanks to your quirk, you can hear how his heart speeds up at the sound of your voice, despite his ever-present poker face. You can’t help but smile happy to know you still had this effect on him. 

“Backup should be here soon. Have you reconsidered my offer?” Touya’s voice is just how you remember it deep and steady, but you refuse to admit to yourself that you’d missed him. 

“No, not really. Unlike someone my loyalties don't teter.” Your voice is teasing, a smile hiding behind the muzzle tight on your face. Touya clenches and unclenches his jaw, he knew you would give him a hard time. Even so, he couldn't resist coming over and trying to convince you, beg you to come with him. 

“If you come willingly they'll let you go through the reform program. Call you a vigilante instead of a villain, I'll sponsor you, please.” Touya hadn’t intended for his words to sound as pleading as they did, regardless all he got back from you was a snort and an eye roll. 

“I have a villainous quirk, a wild monster remember? You used to love that about me. I looked up to you for so long, you know that?” Toya comes a little closer at the sudden softness behind your words, he approaches slowly coming to a stop in front of you, peering down at your bound form. 

“You were proud of the way you looked, proud of your scars, proud of calling yourself a freak. It was inspiring, you made me proud of being called a freak with a villainous quirk. It was one of the things I admired most about you, ya know.” Touya doesn't know what to say, he tries to remind himself that you weren't on his side anymore, that emotional manipulation was your favorite pastime. 

You let out a sigh, vulnerability clearly wasn’t getting you the desired response. You shift against your restraints and with another dramatic sigh. A small grin takes over your face. You decide to take on a different approach.  “You used to take pride in your appearance too. What happened? Too much of a freak? Does daddy make you wear makeup?” You wanted to rile him up, wanted him to react, to explode in your face. Anything to indicate the hot-headed man you used to know was still in there somewhere.  

 “A healer, we found a healer who was able to create new cells for me and restore my skin” Touya’s voice is still calm and it infuriates you to no end. 

 “Right. Let the hero’s hide the truth like they always do. They didn't even tell the public that you’re a reformed villain, right? Daddy didn’t want to look bad in front of everyone, right? Erased Dabi from existence because it was easier for Endeavor's son to magically reappear than to admit he was a villain for ten odd years.” Your eyes scanned his face. When the ‘hero’ Bright Burn first found you, it took several minutes to process exactly who he was. Touya had quite literally smoked you out of your hiding spot, flaming red hair, a lack of any piercings, and most noticeably, perfect porcelain skin. You’d much preferred his charred skin and staples over this superficial perfection, though he was handsome either way. 

Touya’s jaw stayed clenched, annoyed with the words coming out of your mouth, knowing that what you were saying was all true. He’d said the same things to himself many times before, but he was reformed. He loved his new hero life… It's what he tells himself anyway. Every day that goes by gets harder and harder for him to continue convincing himself that he’s happy as a hero. Touya thought he was ready to face you, he didn’t want any other hero coming after you, hoping that if he was the one who captured you, he might be able to sway you to the right side of justice. Touya’s attention snaps back to you when you let out a dramatic sigh, shifting against your restraints and focusing your attention on him. 

“We’ve got time to kill don’t we? Why don't you let me go and we can have some fun while we wait huh?” You look up at him, mustering the best puppy dog eyes you can with a mischievous smile hiding behind the muzzle. Those words give you an immediately satisfying reaction, Touya’s body shifting making himself just a little bit taller, shoulders stiffening at your words. 

 “Do you remember what it was like being tangled together? My nails scratching down your back, the sweet pain of my teeth digging into your neck? The way your fingers felt wrapped tight around my pretty little neck?” You hear him attempt to cover what you know is clearly a moan with a cough. His eyes are not so inconspicuously racking down your body as he clears his throat. “Awe come on, or maybe just take this ugly muzzle off yeah? Let me wrap my mouth around that perfect cock of yours.” You can’t help the chuckle that leaves you, once a dirty pervert always a dirty pervert. No amount of ‘hero reform’ could ever change the deviance you knew hid just under the red-haired hero’s skin. 

“Don't.” Touya’s voice comes out in a familiar snarl that always sends a chill down your spine, the brilliant turquoise in his eyes darkening significantly.  All you need to do is push him just a little bit further. 

 “Awe come on we’ve got time to kill. I promise I'll be good for you. Aren’t I always so good for you, Touya?” His real name had always been his weakness, you knew you’d won when he brought a bright flaming hand close to your face. A delicious shiver runs down your spine, heat rising to your face in excitement. 

“You’re bound and all you can do is sit there and beg me for my cock huh? Still a needy little slut, aren't you, sweetie?”  A tingle shoots straight to your core at his words, sitting up just a little bit straighter as he brings his flaming hand to your face, his eyes dark. The heat from his flames laps oh so closely to your face. A familiar welcomed warmth. You know he won't hurt you. All he does is burn off the muzzle, ever the drama queen. 

There's a flash of hesitation as he removes the mangled remains of the muzzle from your face. A bruise blooming on your jaw where he’d punched you during your initial fight. Touya’s lips form a tight frown as he brushes his thumb over it. Shaking his head, the darkness in his eyes subsides. “I was too rough.” Touya’s voice is soft as he caresses the damaged skin along your jaw but you flash him a smile, a soft hum escaping you as you lean into his touch. 

“You’ve given me worse” You tease and in an instant his soft caress turns into a hard grip on your cheeks. He doesn’t make another move, however, the flash of who you used to know disappeared again leaving behind an emotionally vulnerable hero once more. “How about you get me out of these restraints, hmm, pretty boy?” Touya hates that those words make him feel the way they do. He knows he shouldn't, he knows backup could get there early. He decides he doesn't care at that moment, all he wants is to feel you pressed up against him. So that's exactly what he does. 

Touya’s sudden movements surprise you for a second, thinking that maybe he truly had changed and would knock you out so he wouldn’t be tempted any further. To your pleasant surprise and amusement, he undoes the binds on your arms instead, removing the quirk canceling cuffs but keeping the collar on. Not that it matters much, even without your quirk you were still significantly agile and strong. You stand up from your previous kneeling position, stretching your arms up over your head. A happy little moan coming from you, your muscles relax after being bound in the same position for so long. You come out of the stretch and bring your arms down and around Touya’s neck, he hasn't moved since unbinding you. 

“Did you miss me, handsome?” A wicked smile spreads across your face as you pull him in close, threading your hands into his hair as you press your body firmly against his. Touya hums as you tug on his hair lightly, the way you know he likes. You humm, grinding up against him. He stifled a moan, large hands coming up to still your hips as he leans in for a kiss. With a giggle, you give a sharp tug pulling his head back just as he’s about to reach your lips. You feel the bulge quickly growing pressed tight against his hero suit and a pathetic excuse for a growl leaves him as you tilt his head back, exposing his neck.

“Awe, look at how excited you got.” You coo, smiling widely as you lean into his neck, sharp teeth nipping at the delicate flesh as Touya tries to pry his head from your grip. You let out a soft tut, pulling sharply at his hair and biting down harshly at his collar bone. It earns you a very satisfying moan, the first real moan he's allowed to slip through. You part his legs with your knee gently pressing against his erection as you pull away from him. Touya’s face is flushed red, soft pants passing through his lips as he looks down at you with glazed-over eyes. 

“I bet no one’s fucked you the way you like since you went all-mighty hero. Can’t have all the filthy little things you enjoy slip out into the public, now can we?” Getting him like this was thrilling, you rarely ever got the upper hand on him like this. You push him back towards a comfy looking chair, Touya stumbling back into it, your hand never leaving his hair. You wiggle yourself onto his lap, your legs spread on either side of his waist. The hard length of his cock pressing deliciously against you as you grind down against it, earning yourself a deep moan from Touya. 

Touya refuses to let you get to him, yes he’s hard, and yes, god he’d missed the way your body felt against his. He does his best to remain level headed but his resolve was crumbling with every thrust of your hips against his, composure crumbling with every sharp insult, every rock of your hips against his. You let go of his hair with a dramatic sigh, rolling your head before looking at Touya with disappointment on your face, maybe he really had changed. One last wicked thought crosses through your mind as you pull away from him, getting off his lap to stand in front of him instead, leaning into him so that your noses touch. 

“You really have gone soft, haven’t you? Hmmm, maybe I should go find Endeavor. I'm pretty sure your daddy could fuck me better than you can at this point. Give me exactly what I want, since you don’t seem to fit the bill anymore, Touya.” You say it in the most bored tone you can muster his composure cracking as you wiggle your nose against his in an eskimo kiss. 

It’s like a switch flipped, his eyes darkening and suddenly his hand is gripping your face tightly,  no longer mindful of the bruise blooming across it. Dabi presses his fingers harshly against your cheeks, pressing your face down until you're kneeling between his legs. His grip stings beautifully as he shoves your face against his thigh. 

“You’ve always had such a smart fucking mouth, ya know that?” He moves his grip from your face to the back of your head, pressing your face against the prominent bulge in his pants. “You want me to wreck you princess? Fine , I'm sick of your teasing. You know the drill. I'm sure that empty little head of yours can still remember what I like, can't it?” Dabi coos mockingly, excitement pooling in your belly. You loved teasing him, getting him flustered and being in control a little bit. But you much preferred it when he took charge of things. Of course, you still enjoy making things difficult for him. 

 When he lets go of your hair, you pull your face away from in between his legs. Looking up at him through your lashes, you trail your hands down your body slowly. You play with the hem of your shirt peeling it off painfully slow. Dabi snarls a sound that always goes straight to your core. “Too fucking slow, princess.” He shoves his foot in between your legs, harshly nudging them apart until your knees are spread before burning your shirt clean off. A surprised chirp slips from your lips, hot flames licking at your skin as the shirt dissolves in the flames, but the fire never burns you. 

Dabi leans forward, ever warm fingers caressing your cheek gently before letting his fingers trail down your jaw. Gently tumbling down the side of your neck and over to your breasts, tweaking a nipple harshly between his fingers. Your breath hitches, chest pushing up against his touch as he moves to the other nipple, giving that one the same treatment. “You’ve always been so pretty like this, ya know that?” His eyes hold a softness that was only ever reserved for you, you preen under his gaze and attention sitting up just a little bit taller as he runs a hand through your hair. 

“Now, let's put that annoying little mouth of yours to good use.” Dabi purrs, gripping your hair tight from the scalp and pressing your face into his lap. You let out a chuckle, happily letting him guide you, keeping you flush against his thigh. Dabi releases himself from his pants, a familiar Prince Albert piercing greeting you as well as your favorite, his Jacob's ladder piercing. You were pleasantly surprised that he still had them, but again, once a pervert always a pervert. 

Dabi settles back into his chair,  palming at himself with a steady grip still in your hair. “Go on princess. You know what to do.” With a smile on your face, you give the tip of his cock quick teasing peck before bringing your hand up to him, Thumbing at the bead of precum leaking from him before licking a strip up the underside of his shaft. Coming up, you take just the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his head and sucking lightly at the sensitive skin there. 

Dabi pushes at your head and you happily oblige, letting him guide you down, forcing all of him into your mouth. You humm, trying to relax as Dabi begins to rutt up into your mouth, keeping your head down flush against his pelvis, the hair decorating the base of his cock brushing against your nose. You cough a little as Dabi picks up speed, but he keeps a firm grasp on your hair. “Relax princess- fuck- just breathe through your nose darling. You know how.” You do your best to relax as Dabi continues to abuse your throat, bringing your hands up onto his thighs, digging your nails into his pants. 

Dabi mutters a soft fuck, taking in a breath pulling you from his cock from your hair before letting go completely. He’s panting just as hard as you are and you smile looking up at him. Tears begin pooling in your eyes as drool dribbles down your lips and onto your chest. Dabi has the biggest smirk on his face, leaning over you, smudging the mix of saliva and precum from your lips to your cheek. He hums. “My messy little princess, did you miss choking on my cock?” You croak out a yes and Dabi chuckles leaning back into his chair again. “Up” he hums, you scramble to rise and Dabi pulls you in by your waist until you’re standing in between his legs.

“Are you ready for me princess? Let me see..” The soft coo of his voice has you flushing, hating and loving the way he always managed to get your riled up with just his words. You hear the distinct sound of clothes ripping and then you’re standing only in your panties in front of him. Dabi smirks, eyes taking in every inch of your body and brings one of his hands up to tweak at your nipples, the other tumbling at the softness of your belly then trailing down to where you wanted him most. His fingers brush against the damp material of your panties, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he presses against you. 

“My my.. I've barely even touched you and you’re already soaked right through those pretty little panties. Filthy girl. Do you like it when I'm rough with you, princess?” The sound of Dabi ripping your panties sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers slide down your folds, teasing against your hole, barely pressing against you before pulling away to rub at your clit. You let out a whine, trying to press down against his fingers in an attempt to soothe some of the ache in your belly.

“Do you want my fingers in this slutty little pussy of yours darling?” You whine as Dabi pulls you onto his lap, spreading your legs wide with his own so that you're straddling him. His still hard cock rubbing against your exposed pussy as you settle against him whimpering. Dabi was still fully clothed and you lean forward to clutch at his shirt, hips humping desperately against his hard cock needing something to ease the heat pooling in your belly. 

 “No, don't want fingers, want you, need you.” You whimper, burying your head against his chest. He chuckles above you, pushing your hips away from him so that you can't rut against him. You snarl, teeth latching onto his neck in frustration. “Fuck me already.” You whine against his neck. Dabi laughs now, a deep happy sound, he smacks your ass and you jolt a little. 

 “Up. Turn around let me see that gorgeous ass of yours.” You huff, giving his neck another sharp nip before pulling away from him, pouting. Dabi chuckles, leaning in to kiss you soft and tender, hands coming up to cup your cheek. “On your knees. Ass up, princess.” He hums against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away completely. You happily oblige, peeling yourself from his lap, legs trembling in excitement as you do what you're told, wiggling your ass in his face before bending down in front of him. 

You hear the creak of the chair as Dabi stands up and then his hands are on you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass before ghosting against your puckered hole. You chirp and Dabi chuckles, forcing you to spread your legs wider with his knee as he turns his attention to your dripping pussy. 

“Look so delicious like this, princess. Absolutely soaked, just for me.” His mouth is on you then, hot warm tongue lapping up at the juices dripping from your core. Dabi chuckles against you as you cry out, dipping two fingers into the welcoming warmth of your doughy walls. His tongue following soon after, tracing your lips with his tongue before plunging the warm muscle in with his fingers. A loud moan passes through your lips as you press yourself against the floor, pushing your ass back desperately against Dabi. You want more, need more. Dabi brings a hand around your body to play with your clit and your mind goes blank, focusing only on the heat in your belly and the way his tongue feels dipping into your pussy. 

“Come all over my mouth and I’ll fuck you silly. How does that sound, princess?” Dabi picks up the pace, relentlessly rubbing at your bundle of nerves. It crashes into you all at once, and you can't help cry out as your orgasm overtakes you. Panting like a bitch in heat, whimpering. Dabi doesn't let up as you cum around his tongue. He lets you ride your orgasm out as you press yourself against him. A happy buzz electrifying your body as you come down from your orgasm. The cool of the floor against your cheek helps to keep you grounded as Dabi pulls away from you, all you can manage is a whimper.

 You don't get much of a chance to catch your breath, Dabi pushing into you all at once. The delicious stretch as his cock sheaths itself in your pussy, a stretch that only he’d ever been able to give you. You cry out overwhelmed as Dabi sets a merciless pace, the sound of his hips connecting flush against your ass filling the room. You can hear Dabi chuckle darkly behind you as he pressed a hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you further against the ground, your breasts brushing against the cold floor. Your breath hitches as you hear Dabi spit into his hand, followed by wet fingers gingerly circling around the puckered hole exposed to him. You choke out a moan as Dabi continues to fuck into you, one of his fingers dipping into your ass and you can't help but push back against him.

“Dirty girl, do you like it when I play with your ass like this? Pushing into me like the desperate little whore you are huh? Want me to fill up both your holes don’t you baby girl?” You’re a babbling mess beneath him, cheek digging uncomfortably against the cold floor. You loved the feel of Dabi’s body draped over yours, his weight keeping your upper half-pressed firmly against the ground. His other warm callus hand holding your hips up nice and high for him to hump into mindlessly, your juices running down your legs as his hips smack into yours. Dabi snarls against the side of your head, one of the hands holding your hips comes around to your neck as he pulls back on his haunches pulling your body up along with him. 

 “You feel so good around me princess. Did you miss me? Miss the way my cock stretches you? Pumps you nice and full?” You choke out a soft yes, leaning into him as best you can as he continues to rut into you wildly, the barbells of his jacob's ladder pressing deliciously against your sensitive walls. The heat pooling in your stomach is overwhelming and you can't help but trail your hand down your stomach until you reach the sweet little nub between your legs. Dabi growls behind you, his teeth clamping down around your shoulder.  “Who the fuck said you could touch yourself hmm? Bold of you, don't you think doll?” He pulls out stilling completely with only the tip of his cock still buried snugly inside you, the smooth metal of his Prince Albert just barely giving you the stretch you desperately desire. A breathy laugh coming from him as you squirm. 

 “No, no, no—” You whine out, frustrated. “I’m sorry! Please don’t stop!” You cry out desperately, his fingers squeeze your neck just a little bit tighter as you try to push yourself down onto him. Soft whimpers and nonsense spilling from you as you try to bring your hips down onto him. 

“Beg for me baby girl, tell me how badly you want my cock.” Dabi chuckles, moving both of his hands down to hold onto your hips stilling you. You let out a frustrated whine, desperately trying to sink back down onto his cock the tip of his prince albert piercing teasing at your entrance.

“Please—I need you to fill me up again!” 

Dabi tuts, one hand trailing up your body until it reaches your face, stroking at your lips before sticking two of his fingers into your mouth, your warm saliva coating them as he presses down onto your tongue. “I dunno, you were quite the little brat earlier, bringing up my fucking father. Remind me who you belong to, go ahead. Beg the way I like little one.” You let out a frustrated huff, mind foggy still desperate to feel him in you again. 

“Daddy please—please fill me with your cock! I'm so sorry about what I said earlier. I just want your cock, only yours Daddy, no one else’s!”  You cry out as he pushes back into you, your doughy walls pulling him in greedily, his fingers now thurougly coated in your own spit come down to assault your clit as he bites into your neck again. Before you can think, the heat pooling in your belly overflows and you're crying, cumming around his cock as he pounds into you.

 You’re a mess chest heaving nonsensical words tumbling from your lips, you don’t get much of a chance to register what is happening. One moment you’re on the floor whimpering as Touya’s warmth leaves you. The next, your back meets the cool hard texture of the wall and Touya is pressed up against your front. Warmth radiates from a still mostly clothed Touya as he hoists your legs around his waist pinning you up against the nearest wall. You roll your head back moaning weakly as he pushes into you again, the unique stretch of the piercings lining his cock overstimulating your already sensitive walls. Touya is more gentle this time, shifting his weight so he can bring a hand up to stroke your cheek. You’re a happy whimpering mess as Touya lazily fucks into you, tears streaming down your face but you missed him. Missed this overwhelming feeling only he could ever give you. 

"You look so pretty fucked out like this, little one." Touya continues to hump into you lazily stroking your cheek as he fucks up into you. He kisses you gently forehead first, then your nose, right cheek, then left. You whimper leaning into his touch and puckering your lips for the kiss you really want. Touya chuckles before finally kissing you fully in the lips, a happy whimper leaving you as you get your kiss. Touya pulls away resting his forehead against yours, a new wave of emotions wash over you as brilliant blue eyes lock with yours. For a moment, everything is ok, there are no heroes, no villains, no wars being raged. Just two souls reconnecting after a long time.

"Missed you… Touya I missed you" You can't help the fresh tears pooling in your eyes. Throwing your arms around his neck, Touya chuckles as you bury your face into his neck. 

"Fuck… I missed you too princess. It's ok, I'm here. Don't worry about that right now. Relax for me little one, do you think you can give Daddy one more orgasm?” you try to focus on his deep voice, take a breath and lean back allowing yourself to relax against the wall as Touya continues his gentle lazy strokes. Touya leans forward kissing at your throat, "Such a good girl for me. Go ahead, touch yourself for me, sweetheart. Rub that pretty little clit while Daddy fucks this sweet pussy of yours." he hums against your skin, picking up the pace. 

You do as you’re told, eagerly reaching between your legs to diddle your clit while Touya begins fucking into you harder. Your other hand comes around to grip onto his arm as he bears your weight, nails digging into the taught muscle as heat pools in your stomach. 

"That's it, sweetie. You're doing so good for me baby girl, feel so tight around my cock, fuck—  Are you ready for me baby girl? That's it cum for me—”  Your name leaves his lips in a soft whisper, it sends you over the edge with a choked cry, your orgasm washes over you leaving you trembling and whimpering as Touya fucks you through it.

“Ah—Touya..! It's too much—” You whimper, hands moving away from your clit pressing against his chest, nails digging into his shirt. Touya does not relent, however, pace erratic, hips pistoning against yours as he chases his own orgasm. He leans his head against your chest, spilling into you with a deep grunt, his breath ragged. The world stills, both of you breathing heavily against each other, Touya continuing to hold you for a few more breaths. 

“Think you can get your footing, baby?” Touya pulls away from your chest, peppering your face in soft gentle kisses. You let out a soft yes and Touya helps settle you onto your own two feet, his warm hands finding perch on your bare hips to keep you steady. You look up at him, a feeling of vulnerability washing over you as you look up into familiar blue eyes, tears pooling, threatening to spill.  

 “Come home to me,” Touya mumbles, a calloused hand reaching up to your bruised face, gently swiping at your swollen lips. He leans down to kiss you, shy and hesitant, delaying what he knows will be rejection. Touya pulls away from you and your bottom lip comes out in a trembling pout.

“Promise me things will be okay..?” You whimper and Touya pulls you into a tight hug, choking back tears as he envelopes you in a warm embrace. 

“Things will be okay.” 

 ---------------------------------Epilogue--------------------------------------- 

In other news, pro hero Bright Burn and reformed hero (Y/H/N) welcome their firstborn child, a baby girl into the world today. The former vigilante turned pro hero Y/H/N came on the scene five years ago under the Todoroki hero agency as a sidekick for the eldest of Endeavor’s son, Bright Burn. The pair took the city by storm. Fans of the hero Bright Burn quickly fell in love with his new sidekick at the time, the fierce-looking but gentle Y/N, whose close combat quirk complements the long-range Bright Burns beautifully. From all of us at Tokyo News, we congratulate our favorite hero pair on their beautiful new child.