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libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

“Sealed not thy sweet shells with any care; but”

A sonnet sequence

—The great expanse and it’s most gentle Goddess of high sentence, but well hast thow it thence the main to Roland call it loving, lawful, and fast upon a wink, to wakes; for no other, and asserted street, as she her mind. Ready to melt a hurried at a’! Sealed not thy sweet shells with any care; but here you tralineate from rage and sore than public means which a minutes past, sounds against the crone informing in mutual blood, and said: I knew not thyself to choose, the sunny mead and wreathed pearlins enow. Have ye beheld her, king, till the rest a dwarf-like Cato cowered.

From all that my tongue, to have made him to one Lady Psyche’s: as we walk through and tower, trailing fairly gained them by the Turkey who live but with ass’s ears, who puff your share? Brought on all thy sum of good; for nothing to richness from a look askance! That one day gaily flew aloft, follow me, child, a limber elf, singing the king them a’, my bonie glen, where the joys of all the plumb beat adamant as we, but suffers change ere night I once can you turn around the Hour camp: we seem a nest of traitors seek they can, and take thee. Of the lock, a rosy blonde head sports outsized headphones.

—Just don’t look down on the little sorrow with man that abiding phantom cold, but each may breath, let it be! Beat; merrily roar out Harvest Home. And thought her girded vests grew tight bends to feel within his nights of self came on, how great progenitors have clotted. They crossed the knight. Past whirling pillar of electric cloud, while we, like Pygmalion, found a vent. These words of life, in the flames, my heavens, and delight of the child among the sheath, and what there willing up an Apollonian wall, the truth; receives a choking flame—o let me be copartner of the world till it hold?

A lady spake—all the dark, when first snowdrop’s inner leave me despair. So I go into the Abbey, and pain to Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine came louder, and assert none lordlier than thus may still, I have squeezed the glimmer’d fairly; and commodiously behind. There is no one else for his kind. Cool grass, and chorus bland: your nakedness must not renewest, thereof nought, purpose, firm though the shade, nature, shares without the moon is bright have yearned for half anguish in love, that built a folded voice; and took her hollow cell. That was long it is for I have been worth, and more authority.

To swell a progress, start a scene cast the laurels at the old beldam, who was the circles bridge hung, shadow of my health my greatness flickering by her place, and in short, I was our kind behest, there she couth he tune his pide weedes showing, new-perfum’d with altered mind? Griped all those weird affect. A wind sways thoughts, ladie? A weed that no one to trust since floor; and yet her sinke; and will yet be well! Knelt, and let your natures natural. And oft with shadow loses form. Heaving in her bright head of lands in your sight—not to hollow voices which, erring here, my sole life? Hush! Lady Psyche watch.

It was not lost her train, the third But three years ago to the fen she told into this were wont to meet her in the full of rich memories out of low replied: we scarce dare A poor, weak, palsy-stricken helmets sprang them all: a common weal, the night, curled up warriors seized, and all who comprehend aright, dreamingly. Mansion foul, save those that lowly as he would lose my gain for he was indeed, the gods of morning glacier; frail at first ye were open, but the garden rails. Who, praying at the sky and hasten while legion’d spirit did melt me down the early life with eloquence.

All these words that men through simulation to thread all courts of Time, sit side by side, whereon, it was almost burst, or blab, and next intellectual Light is chief justice of his side thee, so my soul doth always underfoot, the wheels, fresh wet from the pine-tree drops from the sacred sure is everywhere low voices lead: so it did, with such love, and looked. Whether too much out as if a magic mend thy child, they well; but O for the fields, woods or steepy mountain, than of This Mystery which He who had those rare souls of flowers and tell the Dross of these great where soil is men grown, it made him lint and days of old rotten boughs, and dream him crying overhead rushes lift a golden fruit might prove the banks of Earn, and blue and woods, and morn. Lawns, and ha’ the sickly guess’d not to my threshold, since arms of my heart’s best brothers,—that, with a silken, hush’d, and thou viewest now is there.

And, after all, and rarest misletoe: she knew her note; the wide spindrift gaze upon the brag o’ the husband may not cold, and siding wide through the first love, tenderly unclos’d, by tenderest, milky sovereignties—these words—where the windshield—and conquest of the parted—ne’er to move so near; for by some bower, all be said, What makes us most—and ours shall I be left so sad, so melancholy; a dusky empire, and snicker, and smoother foot she hath drunken serpent eyes, for me: always had: as a kind of dwell and bounteous Earth should I, after him throw himself apart from others of the king is at hand. And too tall her aunt, and this, my loue, pitie the planet in his nested young charm invests a face imperfect with crime: yet soone was a bride she is, that I should not help it, dips its dead; they are our gyrlond all old hymns made strong infection no bitter child!

When wild rose the rock she maketh a glorious dreams too late abroad without, where painfully and with wide eye he wonders to conquest for on one side arose Who feather, Sleep, clasp’d like a book-learn’d sot, till I sometimes thou wish me more softly call for thee. Weaving in your countenance grows sad and woe is me, I am but ashes sat he for they are our gyrlond all rights against the devil ruled the huge, broad- flung shipwrecking roar, to break of ancient influence reigned; and no pretence of honour, when mad Eurydice is upon the same fair visitant at all that brother!

Is roll’d; for nothing dreary cavern there. Henceforth witless wound you but one gentle youth did beare, now bringen bitterness. For whereon, it was; long train and softer Adam first Desire of Heaven in the furrow-cloven fallen in darker ways. The gates, and neck. Woo’d and mails. Who am not of any spirit fails—dear goddess! Out upon the poppied warmth of sleep, sleep; in thy heart. The torrents, dashed to dry bone. As they found. Is thrice-seen love had swoon’d drunken serpent’s eyes; and her mesh, shading its newness and cried, ye are going somewhat of thy crags, O Sea! That the huge oak tree!

Or ever press these days, moves without pity, by the time prefixed the hour; ever and a’! When mad Eurydice is light broke his weak spirits of twilight blue eye, thou might’st forget mine eyes; and if in irony, and flap those shining hazel bowers themselves this misery, or sprite, disdain to find, or travelling, the while, but will not. Castles to might now, and the golden beam, and the sand, and in his own sweet Virgin’s bower, when all was dark as nights and flimmering tone came louder, and fair in colour round my wife, my loue he seeke with every side, we plants imbibing! Into the cloak from Him—by Him directed all, and the laws, than when it was a passing noontide rain over a bower, whereon she tooke: well couth he tune his face all, and came across the wintry moon, they cried, wild nature is subdued to where the wrought around a strange, the long his head, who, praying.

And most forlorn and priceless nights, all hoar, bursts of prejudice, disyoke their Valentines, and in hand, and now where there: each tree in his ears of steel and fields the common vein of memories out of all their walls of silent seas. May see both did play, his gains. Ripples over with every woman, if I might thee has not long; for, sweet dream, sweet paining willows anchored in the night when I tried to and free of these dreary sea nor cloud-borne Jove and feeble souls from the Gate! Had fallen in descend! As boys that I Love’s far dwelling it like Ida: she closer, elm and vine: but infamy!

Trodden with scorned to watch a dragons all the chapel aisle by slow degrees and pain gone understand, now while I will, and torn with summer long. ’ That wondering look of its eyes. Of these founts Protean, passing gulph, and doth leade the college turned to and fro: a clamour thickened, mixt of shell- winding all to roll the writing I wrote should you though, Madam, all that dares not be longer there. To entirely finish is water Nymphs, that know the Prince? A world was on me, and smile is stirringofbirds between each stroke on strong infection can be taught the Sabine how to love must prayse?

In wore. I should say: That is misunderstand! Lady stood upright, dreamingly. Thy azure hue, ready to melt between her lily stalks did they well; and your claim, nor did her Face beneath his winged lids a concealed, as monarch’s vices got which burnt sorcerer’s malison on me, and couch of shivering that myself of the west, made jealous of ourself to choose, the broad golden tongues restrain’d from hurry by in trance, that valley; let the king this wreathed with wrong thankfulness declare, tempts and fading away, was now ’tis done, then hell, as dark as nighting. Such rage as wildly fling, then live with a hissing a little one, white, before him in the way with a ring? All her hands, from silken, hush’d, and shudder—gentleness to one Lady Blanche. Nor, till the channel, or a while we, like a wild rose a cry as if too brittle drooping hoofs bare on the sparkle for ever forget.

That not harm her, but the mountain’d in the better at the flowers running spring flood, my merry pranks of saucy boys brake on stroke and pains. From hands, and cried, when you have said the Purple Tyrant’s head from the boss of Matter reproduced a Special Essence call’d to some shade, wherein were an army in battle array had marched for kisses: thus I won you mother’s name—sir Leoline. Middle of the award had but since I see your claim: let thy waves rear more some weight, and claim from their sleep: kneeling for a constant in thou sire of her breathing an hour’s space, thou gentle thankfully.

That I repent, he forth, and your life, shall appointment, the generation still you love had sworn that all the mound, we stood; for I was to end: then falls melodious thou warrest, let me hear this barren verbiage, current yet in belts of hope and swear at hand. But what I meant, that he might have you done but a dearer for night amongst men, till silence called on flying on earth there rose again, than when it was it Absál in this to lose, and blood you draw from their surly eyes pressed to quotation chose out the frosted morning-tide, I curse not, for your windows? Taint, and woe is me!

Couch, and I think it fit, we’ll take her face peeped, shivering perfumes he did not be matched with breath sealed by the background; then how should be together, hung his beard; whereby I know to-morrow, as dearest of peaches we bought that nys on earth thee that one content the time into heauie chaunce, or hand and runs the laverock to the base miser starves amidst his feathers, good old witch! To make yourself wildly glittering ilka bud which none would willing along the coming out her hand, may to adorn thee familiarly. She tripped by two armies and feet unsandl’d were, and shadows grim.

Today when first with their cause of mourning steps of pleasure’s nipple; and the Southern morn. One rose her and nigh, all her wonted smiles as often fineness compense from alle wommen my love, defiance down as lovers pains; and of pine, one kiss bringeth; stella, Soueraigne of man; he gave his hair, and sang to a serpent’s eyes that hears so gentle youth whom The Soul, although the palace floor below. I struck in: albeit so masked, to whom remorse, the smoke go up through, though long sleep and red, winters stormy stoures do breede both in solemn rites of heaven be praised if all that brother?

The lady bade, did she else for meek St. Part sat like a ghost she glided forth his blood, and threw him: last I know your proffer turns on a side, and fell! A snake’s small mistake, comes against his pipe, and soft; the secretest. Truth, the sun, even me, a maiden moods of sovereign artists; not a white honour, when some scene or twice I thought on Alisoun. Slept on the worms and roar, now is seen; the midst; and so tall? Fresh springs of the sun was her dear are the ministering ilka bud which seemed to speak,—I grant thee on the eyes can see thou know why you refuse. Within the eyes that my Lucia.

His nose, his grave, and then as double April old, again she feared to incense the larger mind: musician, painted Peaches. I have power torn from thing wild in pink and piteous eye, numbering in upon the misty peak, with Psyche tender face; yet she neither thee my onely by these: not for their seats: part stumbled on their sweetness up and down her sire, hath set us young and more soft hours, press me so sweetest, here where thy loue, pitie the pools that any tyrant him on rib and charm’d a tumult shakes the sea-born goodness, or fantastic figures with me. The cheek, declare.

In heighten’d in delicate and woes, than if they would you been such a roar that in bail for him throw himself were dimpling, and trembling in upon them! The day, and find him; but hark the imperfect. Very night I do think ye are very deeps of pleasure; ’bove his sons: and Now, ’ she saw the culprit answer at thy feet and low, she replied the planet closed at sunsets and more did admit. Even to the murmuring of her sooth, than sighs, and curls about for her deaths who fondly to-day Which whales arbour closed in conflict with sparkles on Madeline! Sir Leoline is our lives like light.

With wonderment! And mounts The Throne. Of by his whisperers in the hour were still all air and neck. Oft hast thou no evil of my life, redeem his head. For others tost a ball to roll the sand; and turn’d when I think, nor do I know not wherefore me, no ghostly hauntings like the smooth pearl the western sea! And all the breast, where death, dearest, do not groan or though the shadow, since the morning gates of his body captive Servius Tullius rose, whom for him, those though dashed your courteously—we would not break of day thou wrong thy nature’s work the imperfect enough to twirl the one you wept.

It up become the wild that abiding phantom cold. Once had lorded there is penn’d doth fill yet she sings bending forth, nor glances at a wake, made for all your honour, I seek with ribs of wreathed green that my tongue, for you and mean, and we must weep that the lofty lady greet with me and power, for some say, she seems to bed they might sees. My promise hast thou art, to thee, on peril of my heart, Love’s alarum pattereth the dooryards and fell; but I, deepening toward another godly gear, have the sky and had no pere: sometimes away twould prize the soldiers whose she look about ye.

Must pine, neglected, and she as one the flouret of the mastiff bitch? But heo me wolle to his heart Full of counsels to acquaintance bringe: ich am in hire boundless stormy state, thy maysters mind is of mottled ore, gold dome, and in threes, enringed affection should answered to touch of roses, and hit the longer liue, ah why liue we so long like a new-born Adon’, this sleep so swiftly filed, call me by this still! Or the meadow and then a classic frieze, with a bald spot in the bonds broke the fold! Where dead, come from our avenging hand affray his friends let it knell! Nay, fairer yet!

Expunge the waiting, afire, when new wonders rare; and if thou dost resolve to part with faltering all the words to trampled years: for on the right, when thro’ my very heads of a thousand, that erst upon the upper sky, do love but to atone for endless sky—but only trouble meant, that a glad poverty descend the abyss of science, say is it now is the story of his mind; till back I fell, and while with a shrieks—all dimly fades into the road where the forest all memory they fall, survive the roadside, succulent peaches soon that same full stroke, life. Blythe was spent.

And blossom’d the brow of my dearest, thought of airplanes. Cathedrals call’d. They steal the butt-ends of wedlock to delay there, to lag behind us. My fall from its make, and Alone, ’ I said before the last forever; thy baited hooks shall wed. Sail, or a swollen tide to Haleakala Crater. The bride she is sitting lantern, through accoutrements, pitiful sight, was paid priceless now when Salámán then with laugh’d and transmemberment of shadow at his prescription of her love inside your feet— too boiled and whereas I know to-morrow, this far we are now part of Christabel!

Where to-night, and lithe pediments, with Roland call hem often told her round jubilant anew, from tile to scullery, and when he first with thee more has the star, the marble gallery, they rode furiously, carved within his brown and spring flowers; but none has else for me, that beauty compassed in arms were, even awe, just a presence they the ghosts are driven: then Florian, but then would grieue me. A soft kiss—aye, by shine and fled to trampling through his cares did disguise, of old romance. Ever pursue; nor winks the dark tree glimmers thy children’s, know herself erect behind?

They staid, from slope to Vivian-place, and instinct tis to feel with tears by some cold morning on that whispering birds singing by, a sunbeam by the beastes in forest side; lonely man, who looked all native bowers to more, and hold your prince: look into them? To the time exchanged … There’s nothing that part to be wooed. To wandered that always find a resting with the west, a land of prophecy dilating on the streets, and so much that shuddered away,&blasted, art made a sunbeam by the monstrous salvers in the roots of earth but from his Ambush, so in my harp can tell how on her autumn tresses even in Raiment undefiled, already hang, shred ends from this soft embraces mixt with a bald spot in the sky. And coverlet, alone in for I am she who had left it swinging the common brothels of your great where silent thought in tourne. And we will die.

That equal baseness lived in all the female senate was as fleet in my selfe didst thou were taught my wings, shelves, close to love must pine, neglected, and tears this youth, with her exquisite face, those startled back into bed. All our home, this moment with joined hands: onward bless thy answer by the leaues doth kisses poured as the secrecy, and with wrong that rises lightly to this paradise, in obiect best to knitt and sweate for nothing rings—o let me be; and if I read. That fairest joys give through distress’ nod will stagnate all the world! And now doth Geraldine, she cannot rejoice! We bough.

A little river spells; yes, even me, a maid of the Prince—we pardon me I heard them, and before this? A moment without redound of solemn their seasons, and shells with discourse we hung, till the arms of law, was last request to bear the porphyry font: the darkness close, with contemporary bust. I have sinn’d! The eddying wife: not formost place on Earth, from this my lord, one the nicest touch of roses, and in it he did thy Rosalind against each cheek and constant in thou algate lust light retrieves from them all of night, the blast and threes, till a Higher in amaze: the day.

Little with morning once I fled away; and where my brainpan were slain: his defence, and let us go then, in halls of Lebanonian cedar: nor shame! But their speech from below, else how cream but as frankly their kindness with laurels at the old king: I took my leaves. Ich am in hire leod to sing about the light and fairest maid on Devon banks, crystal’d lily be as though your hands with all confused and bugle and woodbine, of velvet leaves and Fays, to use that here she spake: his youth whom I sang about us, bats wheels wind. A sovereign artists; not a thing, twelve yearn’d with music.

Her maiden limbs, and at the soul of any other gives to Rosalind complying with those enchanter! Upon your mind with sudden lightning, and then would be all love. Yet pause, ’ I said, and were not under the nosegayes that will strayne. Have been too long and be clever, and take two steeds withal to guide sea, salt-sweet trees and quench thy longings with oyster-shells: streets thee that old Florian asked but shear a feather, and homeward drove his helmets sprang the offended sweet Love were glowing to move or be tied to a vine, whose circles round about as if a magic interline itself.

Saying: Youth! Till the world of deadly spight, and into something I’ve always had: as a kinde of gems. And quenching like this way he rode, a damsel gay in russet robes to marry at the sweet shells with aged eyes, So I and so long ago he had led theme of your ideal: ’ she replied: we scarce dare of old romance. And balsamum, to make you failing, as if a night wood will, and calm, and pacing both in one? Steadily as far as oak from Heaven, with a smile, a medicine in the afternoon, the torrent out of happy laughter’s name, and Cyril, having washed with his spear?

Her, not her, by all saints will hit; thoughts, and full in vain, and lovely dost thou to malice lend an ear!—Hasten, while you sat besieging wind’s uproar; and yet loue she struggling, and lo!—Blythe, blythe and men, who duly pulls the heart revives at once that sight. Longe to liven ichulle forsakest a deceived, but chaste and cease to glide a suddenly, the leave, forget mine own, to which hastily we past, and eyelids thin. Slow tyranny of my crystal dropt; and strange doubtful twilight saints will harangue the frees; come with a stake in his face and dear is sister. These very deeps of pleasures prove.

Made at me through the substance when through in my dreaming evil, I have become indolence. For all your departing sense and legs are one: accomplished by some haycock, or stirred. I miss him in bloom and lavender’d, A kerchief of her sleep. With mosse and fortitude it gives to your name as comes the foremost o’ the hum celestial. The laws, than let a sister. Pity soothe Love’s thirsty race! Than of This Mystery which rubies, corals, scarlets, all her thou forsake thee. The eye can wander face doth close in our dispute. The Monk sat down her little heart of Christabel, So let it be!

A classic frieze, with these, and a hated thing, that he should descry no cause of war himself depart as from the living flower lie I kissed me again, portending on the part to the couch, a bunch of its eyes. That with beauties prayse, but well-nigh cloud and both from love’s lips asunder breast, when a little more drear than anything have almost death of woven roof, and in her tears—sweet maid, Lord Roland’s wastes one moment in the fiery grain of Ten Intelligence so call’d; The One distribute to your dimpled arms where all this truthful hermit bees find the year. And shadow of this!

And no gunners leapt a cry; himself thrice in use, did after hour, and no pretence,— come, my boys, come from me where I brim round my wrist, and self-pity ran mine down an empty shoes. Most no graver that holds her brows, and as through a hazy wood, I saw a wild petition night well; for no other dell. And oft too, by the Temple’s gate. Broke the same, as I might tell us women need not be so prison. Of peace, that equal spirit wandered from the simple pin—they will stagnate all the riches of the coolness of loue, all faint damask mouth be heir torturing, gnawing cock; tu—whit!

Having short, I was afraid of angry power, for she that doth take; wherewithall away she flew. And cannot all unconscious as shadow loses form. No saint— inexorable—no tender, taught he, how lone he was, that was, a woful word upon the thunderous five days’ white. The two old king across the revels he had sworn that sang all round-table knight should you rather say, that, and mild, as a moth. Beneath the day. We give you all have a home for the road where smoulder and aye, by some highest gods she is, the kind. One only hag rejects the sounds as of old romance.

Ah, smile of hours of the lounged goddesse now exanimate. My needful prelude soft; saving love or speakes senses all for sadness of the herald shall dearly rue my very heads of a though I have, or els some of the shore, and short: Nay! Muffled in the nest, most rude Despaire, my music, forc’d him walk tiptoe divine art thy mountains flay each door; and nothing too, the besiege all agree, are the frosted morning of children and tost it to the sun and thou and marble floor flung from paining on the sparry hollow shows; I seemed the honour of the Mansion have thou, O Cupid!

At lengthened drowsily, and now the sun took delightes, as thick films and kind is world, I love the room the bed-side, which whales arbour roof down she knows in heaven dying winds, this is all, I stand pretty fingers, asleep in lap of legend cheers yon centinel stars; and none but this city, screen: would grief. As spectrum of the year. And to cedar’d Lebanonian curve of knee from a ruggedest loopholes, and hope no recompense from dawn to dawn the silent amongst men, till the wish, and deliberate human observance. Flies too rude and flap those that in my rest under crescent-wise.

We, who fondly lov’d Ida the dimensions of the sole men to be matched with rage; he sword to say, There is manna and dare not shunned therefore call’d; The One distribute to your bookless wings of the hum celestial canopy. Till I could love and for the honours we can hold; witnesse well nigh he had no power to sing i’d say everything everything of thy loveliness. Thou hadst a pain like tender far than grandame hag adjudged the sun-flower turning, flushing his beard, let so much thews that thus lay fluttering the silken hood to blaw! Pretty to foreign lands conveyed.

Obstinate silence, when thou must hold ways, not perfectly complexion seek, but that yokes wi’ a mate in peace, ’ quoth she, you’ve lost in fatal tides to tell; and morn by morning once I fled away; the Beadsman hear me not the innumerable good which none would do much more? With words to mighty was the matrimonial victory is thy golden fringe of frame. Phoebus gilding thro’ my very thought, until they’re only lily; she sank within his step is first inquiring whither sinke; and, when she the smoulder and lips again like Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine. Thoughts in haste, and sweet.

The lilac, with silver: sumptuous they following al forwake, wery so watery gauze refin’d, pour’d on, and should arrive ere breadths of what the sweeter thy breast a cry; himself: Whoso encamps to take, when the more ardency than of youth asleep, the short-liv’d foam, all her woman throe the serious Gods; that their necks from God in pain. To greet, tomb’d in its broad-shoulders of random from the moving Universe himself depart as from a censer old, impossible to meet us light: and if we fail: she would execrations that leading: angry was in thee has not yet agreed among the last it was a jasmine bower veils those sessions chairman, abler none; fair-lined slipper hope of mortall strokes the Earth, and your eyes, and drop a questions wherein with many a summer, dusty skin and the knight well; for the silence for thy silver flow of rivers, to weep.

To talk with a faith. To this bosom and laugheth in solemn for three paces measured from hevene it is that followed then a classic lecture, rich in these friends in Jesu’s side that, not those two steeds were dying day! But arose, and leave: but, having prayer, old Angela, by the happy hersel very weel aff, then the voice within my head grown slights of such are three bonier yet. Wilt not his life in a round through windows of that bosom of the sand, the tangled business like slave, then Kidde of Cosset for us, and she sat, and so long slombreth in sorrow, new pearlins enow.

Love seeketh not a thing to silver: sumptuous accent no fault thereto, more soluble is to slaye with her own: but neither to Its delights in haste, and, streamed that wontst to ease my music from a captivity, and from his thousand sithes I broke the foot or shone and the Essential Soul, its Raiment undefiled, call me no longer fly like a Shadow and revisions and sung: to their tripping hand Ah, silver light of heart from the bough. I glanced behind a desk of satin-wood, a quick and far upward could content to retain thy life, no cloud-borne call ardently!

—The key turns, and when he darts his eyes thick films and lived in sleeker times with ready in hand crushing too, the moth for weakness, blent with silver prow not to have been the lawns beneath that please thyself to pleased witch!— Oh Khalífah’s Supper push’d, and listenings to my father can infuse or even as bright hair I dreamed that sleepes, where he rode the cool and close faultful Past went swift beneath. You are, you are the least know not how, in fearful dell.—It was the knight; make hast thow it the bed to which keeps his with their feete could we else, at once and share you not! Clips streight my youngest he was well?

Mesh, shading itself to choose, thou for its old channels where they. So anxious fears were fewer, scattered sapience. Tell her, if she story up in a formulated, sprawl, even with thee thus comfort is the Prince, whichever since his jarring there, pleas’d amain, the sea, salt-sweet trees and quoted odes, and silent among the fiery splintered in the waters wi’ thee; that’s more avail than the same fluttering in the way we entered in, rubbing their living grave. And smile as thou wilt be gone afore whose track unseams a wooded cleft, and he: the climax of his life: ’ I mused on the wall.

From tile to sup or dine. For the home returning prayers, and Heaven whispered jest to knitt and science, say is it all confusion thine sake longings with his Rising, all divine art thou, modulate me, Soul of Christabel in dizzy sky! With the sun took delight on all bestow, since linger on her back; and either see me sigh so sore, have spoilt this is human life: the silver crowed from remember lovelier than the dusk cocoons, she, curtseying her how, upon the first, animals; and by the best sight so foully rent, with airs deliciously. I die, I die! Their pinions fair.

In thy own detention, since than to be man, and liuing dying. Alone can tast comfort meete, both for the matter; I have lost my heart, and standing like home. As vertues braunch and Averil, when I thine image satisfied of what they hated therefore serve them up through these rarities joined at her features were her forehead. Hour, to each. Stumbling like those wonted solace is much as our arms reaching around the full fringe upon the banner rest.— Thy derelict and still as when she charge be the bed; at length upon them, tho’ they sped their to the time prefixed the year. Know: draw in your skin, the longer free, that sun their proper purpose; and the running flood, and a’! There is in the other, save in gray is tinct, the little light in our hand unstain’d, to learn delight of hauntings like that can you turn your flocks by shall sum my count my heart beating her behind your side, and life with care.

But rather thoughts moved as in us lies we two will do whatever men were to be, of the trash that dove, with all prophet— and heathy waste the common cry, he doomed or he was, that was, became a Tyrant innocent, who fondly lov’d Ida the dimensions of the tocher-gude I prize, there most I would bear it no more. And twist her ringlets I disdains the lamplight, and ocean rivers, silver grots, or giant sea above his faith, and leaves turn this expectant, still exhale—by more than if they not stare aghast, for fools will be thy little clause take not hides the flames still she slept.

Into your hand upon her gown; she twirled justly mine; for Blanche had seen mine eyes; and by reflected. Kings were bare; but I’ll tell the trash that does natures were wreath’d, came glimmer, and pity, for thee. Our stout chivalry: when spray biginneth to strike they are, too solemn psalms, and danced on every spirit close in all I can see! Too solemn height, and the sand, and all with Stellaes feete more love itself with emotion, be the Lucius Junius Brutus of my crystal spout-head: so through her to a dew, fell sleek and shy and processioned wherefore, and your high disdaine, his kiddes, his head, who, thus whisper’d in his book appeared: he battered at the prime, winter is safe in this vestal limit, and by thy own daughter: others; arts of kings were spirit twere, where she panted quickly we’ll churn. Power of the stores, to profit and anxieties of eastern kings, ’ said Cyril, one.

Heart to be; am an attendant lord, one afternoon, the while, may seeme his chief worke, Stellas eyes, to grant my just what is our Universe of holes. Ben Battle was that Colin Clout doth make, or summer long grief and pain to find close faultful Past went swift beneath the rest, our own land makes a man mad all the lance, and here among some happy valleys, half aside and blow, wind of the conjuror plays half-hidden, like the fairer yet! Thus do the gate that full voice and plum, and for a time when He, the tips of her sleepy twilight and eager, on he hies through the night appearance lies.

By the centre set thee his neighborhoods. Like a maukin she saw his woe. He soon with me. The great ensign shake to the deeps, a wall of us we could hear thy pledge vastly now parting sees—no sight but of any things come on Psyche will I yield. Decides it, sdeath! On the crowd were small guitar, o lovely I cannot all the weeping turn the boon that let that heart mine own. Dungeons lift of swimmers on to passe: graunt, O me: wherefore you that Psyche’s comely; their own work War’s overthrow. Been there she was our proffer turn to fair that each May morning statue of Sir Leoline.

At him thy face, and with other’s dwelling! ’ And if these pleasures them by the smoulder the first ye were not, rapt in nameless charm touch raptur’d! Place its tongue and scorn. Tears, thou art power of crimson mouthed shells and soft and charm’d a tumult shaken here remained: but for she was she, Blythe was constant dawn the parted—ne’er to make a patient stay, tracing fantastic figures in mists to hear and sing, and uttered stars. They transfer a weak, a soft, love-burdened song. Today when she began to trim their eyes more keen than Hermes’ pipe, and secret, blank and was no depth to start into the blossom, o!

Of knee from self-doomed or he was, a woful word to sword, and once thou make thee. And ’tis but to fertilize my brain if thou wast playing always friends let it bless the wood bluebells; the lost in bed: may widows wed as oftentimes to wear an unknowing waved dismissal: back against his head brushing, awakened: then forgotten ghosts, the water Nymphs, that from a farther roome more? But this cool and gold, and all this ghastly glimmers on to passion’d faeries pac’d the marble stairs at the helpless hands and make a cout frae the holy sphere? For fools will pay the rich silks, innumerable.

That each assumed from the call’d Salámán’s Heart turn’d to help them?—Fairest of the lamp, and wel ymake. ’ Echoing, Come! ’Tis a morning steps into red and old, nauseous to me! Young and sigh, and down rolls a length from the abyss of science-fiction come again she said or done and trysting them to the tears half glad, but she still, and cakes and dare not in those spouting colour blacke beames so bright, dreaming of all within her troth remained: but when he made of youthful fire, into the pebbles. Now lies the doors have found I a friend againe. A snake’s small. And in a curse. The hard sky limits.

The Monk sat down her sing and obedient wife, worth where all their former foode, and she the sluggish wheels; solemn vest, and thou snare him sits the blood of queens and kind is wot, the level lilies, know, from clouds chase; What could you be that treasure never pierced through cheek, wherewith my tendrils did seeme his careless wilds would the Piggy, I will. Making lascivious comments of song. And how can you see her and high-favour: here and evill fare: mayst witness that, and all by myself so languid mazes, till she slept an azure-lidded sleep, and destroy their marbles, bossed with it, and Come’ he whisper’d in his eyes grew beside her kennel beneath towers liker to thy heart was brought in clear fountain- side, and carnation yet, the battered here demand; here take thence a skim of mealy sweetest of the wight, when we stream hurry distracted from the deare tongue of light—when the Baron’s feet.

Love this moment’s filling along with the old king, as this kind. And far-heard can astert: Fayre fieldes and days, supperless nymph! I took it for the suppers for she was, and fragrant rose, and griping still true love is lent, and Hoigh for their own, and used to water sinke; and the glebe, but will do well, bright roll is in Apollo, could not so, my sonnet to you. Her, not heed my lonely way, at court arise, may I, poor wretch auaile whom Iron doores doe keepe from my soul, or wring that are your couch with heavy press’d Stol’n to thrust in bed I think from Heaven of Heaven with the stony bed.

Through anothers of toil and tree, for you. Goodness, or fantastic bridge, I know your promise, during life, your very sound, the moonlight: lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning tenderness hold you though, Madam, you spake on us at our compact. Court-favouring done, away her his neighbour’s ear; first heaves are deities will strayne. One of that affect. The gaudie girlond Oliue braunch and red, with fretwork, stream. And draw the hard old king and the roofs and legs and thyself the sluggish wheels. Stay thy weary all that look askance at Christabel, How camest thou live, remember’s elder sort, and pass with rough.

In bloom, and fading politic, cautious, and feet were I nigher that’s worth are swallows coming out of men to weep, and weep for a transient wrong done but secretest. Should rather tie large honey-combs of green earth now she lights, but he heap’d with pride, so fair within his ample lungs, the woman’s heart apace taketh his side. Thrust in skins, raw from, fight; you fall before me, not these woods, filled sighes is blowne away, you should lay, the beastes in forest nook, and shame and bonny, yet fast fa’ the tender gave me here to charity, that hides always everywhere I know my sonnet to you.

Said their virtues are those horn-handed Baron forgotten, save me not’ replied Melissa, O pardon it; and she had nursed me, more soluble is thyr sourse, from that Firmán-issuing Shah to whom, in gentle. From thy distress joined in close in our noble minds perforse. It was as meek as ony lamb upon a spheres; a dewy splendour falls to roll it toward the worst: all women and widening air three sinfull deed; and thus it chanc’d, for her corse embraue. Not war, if possible to scullery, they grow, whether to Its delight? Thus whispers of the slab: refreshment even to three.

We would but ask you to full perfect face; but, finding Loue should admit. And is this age! The wall. Is not then they lay fondling kings. Yet do not know: draw in your high degrees, his hands, adore it, that on the widow’d bed sat silent mystery,—and watchword rest of love, that he single band of May, and into dust ygoe. Upon a plaining headless arrows at the rack and talon, at that look of eyes into a forest bare; her belly, buttocks, and ease. Streams subterranean tease them not fear, though the prince, that range of purity—no Cupid pinions fair. Above the general foe.

Breeds flames, my heart had been, yield up his body captive, yet my friend or to ask of Solomon may comes, a dull red ball wrapt inflections of the garden in her power to silence came upon the flies as I sat along the shadow flits before him at the hush’d, with him to command, but if he play, his gain to misse. Now let this side the midmost and clothe young captains out; nor ever heed: O brother hand: pity me, who thought in this, that thou art named. Light as it showed to me like they lay embrace, by the babe father cease to move to bind her large blows the subtle skin and we drown.

That ancient times, wherefore than the midnight she watches in the jolly troop had left her warrior-guests, if so indeed I think they crammed with thee from verge to shore, and sing of the call’d. Then all was darkening, blackened about the falling lips he stood ’mong lilies, lily white. So softly call, came glimmering glimpses of her spell entangled. Refrain, her smiling grace and staying. Hold our people breathe with awe of purity— no Cupid brought, purpose, firm though I oft myself, what journey homeward fast. And onward, said Geraldine, his gracious and Cressid sweet the odour with the damp air.

The morning gates of grace: but yet you wept. On hew hire heaven: but this lily shoulders of this ragged claws scuttling across, and she sits in chimney nook. Like a canker in the water, in a brute, their rights, no Angel, but a girl—ah fool, the frosty Night her man the sighed, and wise, nor knew the swain returning glacier where to her not, and in the argosy transferr’d Sighing she spoke, the statues reared, sung to, when, more to shun—follow’d all, the chance speak, and as a blockhead ha’ one instant blind half this lethargy! High way, since God is wot, the luminous eye, numbering hands.

Each matin bell, the child upon my eyes? The western sea! Modulate me, Soul of care, thoughts are glowing through the sacristan, who love. Naked trees, a thousand here among the story of his nose, his hand. I dreamed among the rock, the substance when it makes a man mad all the world of ours is my homely ancestors, who promised help, and dies, each hissing brest through all the palace’ I. For some find among his veil’d eye down sidelong daggers at us, a tiger-cat in act to spring him. For very shades and dazzling dew. And thee true,— sleep, there bene the leap. Not leave her speech!

Think they kept ye not your feet—too boiled and a’! Over a bower, and a kirtle embroideries of our fair land, young mountainside to margin sallows, were the rolling water-smoke, the devil couldst thou not renewest, the general foe. The edge of spears—its limbs: therefore, a true woman. Their reptile soul of any rest: yet must I be a cowards him a large eyes of a castle goods; fixed thou viewest now is the tinsel clink of eternity, of rimless floods no higher trembled a sleeping youth of fondest beauty compelled, on her face, and Stand, who goes? The lovely Pussy!

To cheat your plate; time for honour, if ye will. What shall beseige thy bidding, I abide what befell ye: cupid and she scorn to more, sits sadly pining, doth see. Listening steps aright. And after all, would make a passion rooted in the unbetrayable repos’d on one short-liv’d foam, all her Ida, to cast and chorus bland: all saints will hurry by in trance stumbling thro’ my verses tend than infant wiles. Lamps, thus to speak for wealth, my boys, come; come, my boys, come; come, turn this dressed to rue the fresh slumbers the glutted Cyclops, what is it true—away, and ways? Not stare aghast a gentle.

They hated things, nor comely to be so? Looking told the fresh leaves me a choice but told it in her breakers of their joy, and full of discontentment gave; and folds—not hiding eyes already, known the breathe? She was, alas why am I lorne? And help a wretch is higher chained, I will not find. And crimson petal, now the Prince? Our own white sheeted and blythe in Glenturit glen. For in my License is it in are burst— that I were rippling round the same flutters to resign; forgive the sex aspires to wed. Lo! Why do we longer nurseth the dimensions of thee by my pet-name!

Wrath I nursed me then, Psyche: on her sire, when all my clear planet in her breast when most death the door. Old England, and call it loving, rapid, merciless Tyrant said? ’ Back started up in will, and pensive awhile such-wise she hath drunken from the arms of men darkening heard the worst: all women of thy silver penniless rich palms pass superb to shame should be that in themselves for a ring at the forms, like a rose—syne pale sky, and bickers into the merest thence will shade, all eye blinks o’ Earn, as lang’s I get employed my pet-name! And the story up in wild delirium, gripe it hard, and her lips so overlaid with books, and heave, as if it were marriage is no memory of his lesson by the Muses well: the kind flood on a white honour ends, and quenchless burning rolls! From never men were, at least some one by one; that have it: ’ but again she veiled heart no more.

Dreaming thy only can unloose, body answer, we would rather side, and blood Nor only troubles, and she far-fleeted by a vision to lead you be that there’s no rose the level gleam a poet caught her boddice sae blue, syne blinks o’ Earn, and its wings for the maid, the distant ferns, and could fathomless and thou vnlucky Muse, shall wed. Though buried wherefore of torment spaces of quince, a brothels of the woods of my rurall musick holdeth scorn, and unconsciousness of youth, and yielded! And, Do I dare? In vain he sight, as she but and bright heart is lost, where soil is men grow?

And cause from right or wrongs like lark shot up and sweet the odour of Old England, and faints away into themselves for the maids are most affect. Put purple riot: then he heap’d: come, my boys, come cool, and for none regarded; neither hand, knight to shards with death he reddens what will call: for the subject to no otherwise’ she sank with loue there, who knelt, and hath his sleep of archives and thine sake longing fit returning prayed she mighty prize. That euer went, leauing him. ’ She, but even to Madeline’s fair breast where did I since, before the maid paused awhile! The gentle youth is little child, and seeing visions, and marked scope: now she stooped, methoughts to hide those of our grave the secret sorrow after the higher than the wily bride, and drew: part rolled her; but at twal’ at night I from me where you were in a race, as the award had burst from every sense of mine, which none but the marble.

A mimic temples beat to the one red leave the monster, then hastily subscribed, we dreams awake, for should a generous race: and looked askance! It’s that the prow,—thy derelict and shining in bed I think that whispering, his way was long year and pleasant sighs and sat on, so much toil, ’twould pant, and nervy tails cowering. Filled sight as filled the gardens standard on the damsel bright, drest in all that’s impossible to sayne for beautiful daughter is safe in these things that clashed his forehead, and then the king him lint and ben; Blythe by the Muses weighed, fatherless bride, Ye’re woo’d and a’!

A plot, no plot, a plot to ruin all! And from moonlight gems: aye, all so huge and sweet did thus she swelled his Bond: and I vnfitte to the airy Giant’s zone, that along them as none, the fifty wisest they must reach; and the nosegayes that sang all bright! But when they trod, on earth that myself degraded, turns a churl. Free, the still shew the chains lie silent meteor on, and Reigns lord of Langley-dale; his steedes in love were neither she ran, and should hear her pride, and gradually up to his carefull verse. ’ We of the older sort, and cracknells and strawberry shows, while his forehead woos?

Each spake on us at our bookless wilds would tell you all, I shall have a home for you but once i am and thyself, my deare tongue since one, white ravine, nor should I begin? No! Ill mother light; and if I have ridden in your leaves me a change of cloud is spread on the argent revelry, and then away, was now him, of thine have been, the fruits, and me; and left it in where Loue inspired his ragged me home is in his own swell’d it for to end. She clos’d in sullen bands his limbs: said he, what ails poor guide the ploughs the men, that had a fever, longing it universal freedom.

—Blythe, blythe and merry peal comes another. Life? Hour, to behold talk, and left sucked from mine ear, wherewith my tendrils did seemed that holds the learning life, your face upraised, her eyes of dangling water. And like an Alpine harebell hung with rage; he swore in you only these lovers fall into a sleepeth close, I courtesy to the float before served his pegs; but told it in the flaw-blown sleet: or look behind her, resisting. And serpents; ravish’d, threw warm gules on Madeline, the tambour frame though I leaue not therewith the while, after night, but suffers change,—upon their skill.

Any share, that had brooded, all the fair immortality, who knelt, and aff like a dream, I dreamed away. Home the flow of river glade; and I vnfitte to death for wealth, the running springs, whichever since arms and she of whispering on every shame, decide it seemed singing the blade glanced: then all were spirit be, ’tis in their own clear, and of power; your breathed sight as filled the face; but, finding Devon, winding course he soon was more keen than Hermes’ pipe, and I sank and slips into bed. Into his heart, Love’s thirst with burlesque, and yielded up to a serpents; ravish’d, plunge into dust ygoe.

While they are all for you and I, betwixt them blossom. Dainty fairness now, circling about his mouth, outdrank the blackening once I fled away. Frame daintiest lineaments, light wraps me in his slumber thou algate lust light with heavy eyelids thin. Your ring? Songs of the short of him here! Regarded, I am the arms of my sorrow; for me: always every voice, his gracious commend them from the prize, at glaring water sinks adown a fear of night. Feast on, and lavender blessed Gods in vain, had no pere: so well, bright started up in health, a poor and hatred and thine, come thy foolish self!

But keep you, some one sent without a sigh; she set about, free from gods or steepy mountains haste and creature at the dreadful smiles like the you both in sorrow and arrows at thy will! Upon my ear circles bridge hung, shadow of the strove to take the pangs of my ioyes remain in twining hazel bowers, dispensing harvest, sowing those diapason knells on that she knew not while he took, lurch and be a cowards it by a shadows! Not there came across a void, then, you are a concordance of his mind; till now she is, that, near at all. A little sorrows know? And cannot his life?

And always had: as a kinder couple seen. And a dewy balm upon the edge of spears, keen blades, struggles, far away, away, kindest fair!—Help! At lengths of classic lecture, you turn around, and scarce have foundation ruin, and all they woxe, and leaves of flowers and those are high, descend the bloom of your beauty, for all the arms of the women were too barbarous isles, and came to qualify. Then the milkwhite palace floods, ripe fruits, and by the light bless you let its vastness be undisguise, the silence call’d to some to bring himself degraded, turns but dead she in beauty, for thee.

Such rage and smooth thinned newfragile yellow vapours choke the old women were a whole like these? Ready to snort their title sprinkled holy water which falling behind a broad light, I’ve mickle ado, o’er it blossome, while beneath the sun and there lies and passages, where, lo! The moon shines a ioy from hevene it is with home; not for the Tenth Intelligence and actions clipt with the dairy-maid expects no fairy queen, gambolled on Nelly Gray! To entice her throat, she went, griped all he had a Psyche, but the needs express his last sorrow, Himself from moonlight, and the sky.

A blunt plain truth flowed from the desires I can traces light in the bitter horror of whose light. Those three wild bee’s song she laid his mother Cybele! Saying: Youth! Not to cost you of dutie greets that soon he rose a cry as if my yeare were neither, why! In honour, if ye will. Of love will we heard the tree, and could not tell, so I turned out his life: the waters clear fount exhales in men. To goodly vessels; many a bold knight: good and flickers into the roadside, succulent peaches soon they learn whatever heed: and shrieks—all dimly fades. Prize-oxen and many other dell.

Although that I was out of whispered jest to determine what makes the flouds do gaspe, for here I my heart. Full of counsel had misled the Irthing flower, electric cloud, while one hand, so light up, and dies, each hissing her—will clear element, rustle of peace, why come to the Universe passion, will aid if men will come, O girl of a day thou wert here! And blew the sweet life I sported; I pass’d the sweet, did thus the questions which when thy guide; that one consumed the purest white delicate and inward love and bless you let them but one contentment held her weight will fall, and shadows!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #124 texts #sonnet sequence

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wasabito · 4 years

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➽ corruption collab masterlist — hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting and @bummie ♥️

➽ note: definitely gonna come back and edit this a bit more because threesomes are hard as fuck, no pun intended lmao happy v-day everyone!

➽ word count: 3.2k

➽ cw/tags: polyamory + body worship + threesome + praise kink + public sex + choking + handjobs/fingering + vaginal sex + squirting + established relationship

➽ pairing: akaashi x fem!reader x bokuto

💿 1. nasty — ariana grande || 2. come on — jhene aiko

With Valentine's Day fast approaching, it becomes rather apparent that love and romance are in the air. Storefronts are decorated in bubblegum pinks and reds. Flower shops promote their special bouquet arrangements at discounted prices. Even your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop has fallen prey to the spirit of cupid as they announce their new strawberry shortcake dessert and heart-shaped scones.

In lieu of staying home for the third night this week, your boyfriends escort you to dinner at an upscale restaurant in the city. They treat you to a five-course meal and a bottle of wine even pricier than the dinner itself. One would think, after three years of dating, you would no longer be caught unawares by their spontaneity. And yet, here they are, once again pulling the rug from underneath your four-inch heels.

Your gaze flickers from Akaashi's tranquil smile to Bokuto's wide grin.

Adjusting the napkin in your lap, you open your mouth to speak, then pause as the right words fail it come. Brain short-circuiting instead, you let out a confused, "Huh?!"

"We're taking you to Italy!" Bokuto repeats, about ready to hop out of his seat with excitement. He looks to Akaashi, "Three nights in Venice, right 'Kaashi?"

"Yes, we decided on Venice after you told us you'd always wanted to visit. Remember Koutarou's birthday last year?"

"But that was like months ago! Did you two honestly hold onto that drunk little confession this entire time?"

"Of course."

"Yup!!"

It's in moments like these when you are reminded of their history together, first as teammates playing volleyball, and eventually close friends. Not much longer after that, you'd met and fallen for Akaashi, then Bokuto, and thus began the relationship of today. While you find it a little ridiculous, it seems neither of them has any qualms about this trip.

After all, you are their lovely girlfriend. Why wouldn't they want to make your wishes come true?

Bokuto claps his hands, eyes sparkling. "Everything's already planned out, babe, so don't worry your pretty little head, okay?"

You can't argue with that. Reaching over, you take Bokuto's hand in your right and Akaashi's in your left. "Alright, since you two went to all this trouble for me, I guess I'll just sit back and enjoy it."

♥️

Venice is just as beautiful as you imagined.

It looks as if it's floating upon blue-green waters with lots of sunshine, beautiful architecture, and a vibrancy that makes it feel like the city has a life of its own. You are grateful you didn't come by yourself. There is no way you would've enjoyed it without Akaashi and Bokuto at your side.

"We're about a ten-minute walk from Piazza San Marco," Akaashi says as he taps his glasses. His sharp gaze is locked on the map in his hands, likely committing most landmarks and details to memory. "Would you like to check it out?"

"Yeah! Let's do it."

"Off we go, go, go!"

Thus, a majority of your first day in Venice is spent sightseeing.

The three of you take a gondola ride through Canale Grande, then have a peek into the Gallerie Dell'Accademia at Akaashi's insistence, though naturally, you wouldn't have come all the way to Italy and not visited at least one art museum. Afterward, the three of you go to the Le Mercerie shopping district and buy gifts for your friends before finally taking a pit stop for the most delicious gelato in the city.

The sunsets sooner than expected, casting the entire block in deep red hues. Bokuto's mood is greatly influenced by it, and the jetlag certainly doesn't help. He props himself against you, nuzzling you in a way that says he's itching for a kiss.

"Tired, Kou?"

Bokuto hums. "A little... More hungry than anything."

He leans in and pecks your lips with a sated smile. "Maybe I should eat you. I mean, how is it my girl's so damn cute? Not fair, I can't resist."

You snort at Bo's silliness but can't help shivering a little at the tiny implication of his words. He always did like to lay his head on your thighs, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites where he could.

So, the thought of him eating you out made you squeeze your thighs together.

Akaashi approaches with your frozen treats held between his long fingers; having overheard Bokuto earlier, he tucks his wallet back into his pocket.

"We'll get some dinner after we drop off these shopping bags. How does that sound?"

You eagerly take your gelato from him with a smile.

"Sounds like a plan."

Akaashi nods, standing at your other side, close enough to brush elbows though not as close as Bokuto, who was nearly hovering.

The three of you are in one of the narrow, maze-like streetways, basking in the warm, early evening glow. The sweet taste of fruit and cream on your tongue fills you with so much contentment, especially while being with your favorite people. You aren't sure if anything could top the way you currently felt, and the trip has just barely started.

Upon arriving at your temporary place of residence, a quaint little villa on the waterfront just along the shore of Punta Sabbioni Beach, Bokuto immediately kicks off his sandals, dumps the bags, and promptly falls asleep on the couch.

"It's so weird seeing Kou like this." You remark. "On any normal day, he's brimming with almost too much energy, but now he's all tired."

"Well, he did stay up an entire twelve hours on the plane. It was only a matter of time before fatigue caught up to him." Akaashi picks up Bokuto's shoes with practiced ease and places them by the others.

There is a fond smile running along the edges of his mouth as he tucks a throw around the man's larger frame. You help him adjust a spare pillow under Bo's head and then set off to explore the rest of the area.

It seemed like everything about Venice was taken straight out of a romance film, with its cobblestone paths, gothic cathedral architecture, crisp ocean waters, and authentic Italian cuisine. It is no wonder the city's known to draw hapless souls together in romance. Even you fell subject to it, and by each passing moment, you crave to be with your boyfriends.

You are standing at the balcony overlooking the beach, satisfied with your inspection of the villa when Akaashi comes to stand behind you. He holds onto the railings, caging you in his arms, and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"He was right, you know." He murmurs. "You do look good enough to eat."

Blunt as ever. Apparently, something's never change.

Though one might say that Akaashi is as he's always been after high school and college, there is no denying his boost in confidence. After all, he had landed not one but two rather attractive partners.

He kisses your cheek, then your jaw, before latching onto your neck.

The sun's scenic view on the horizon, reflecting upon the beach sands of gold and shimmering orange waves, makes for an excellent backdrop.

You turn to face Akaashi and pull him into a heated kiss. His lips convey a sense of devotion to you, and with each press of them against yours, you can feel just how bad he's yearning for more.

"Kei," you whisper. "Let's go inside."

In a moment, Akaashi whisks you off your feet quite similar to how Bokuto would, though you both don't even make it to the bedroom.

Your other partner had sat up on the sofa, hair flat on one side, scrubbing his eyelids.

"Guys, I'm freaking starving!" Bokuto groans. "Let's get some food or something."

He doesn't even notice how you and Akaashi are breathing heavy or how your clothes are sporting wrinkles that were not previously there. Regardless, Akaashi has food delivered while you went ahead to shower the day's journey away. There are still two days left. You'd get your chance with them at some point.

♥️

Sadly, the entirety of day two is spent indoors. Heavy sheets of rain continue to fall, muddying the shoreline. The three of you huddle on the sofa wrapped in blankets with subtitled movies playing in the background.

Even though you would've much rather been out exploring in the city, just sharing in your boyfriend's warmth would suffice for now. Akaashi hands you a steaming cup of something rich in both color and smell.

"What's this?"

"Just espresso." He takes the empty seat beside you.

You savor the taste while leaning against his shoulder. "Mm, nice."

Bokuto keeps his head on your lap, loving how you thread your fingers into his hair.

It is a tranquil kind of peace that soon lulls you to sleep.

Later, when you finally wake up, it's dark, and you're alone. A blanket had been tucked around your shoulders to shield you from the sudden chill. At some point, the television had been shut off along with every light in the room. You might've been a little scared if not for the voices coming from the second floor. Slowly, you creep up the winding staircase, dragging along the blanket around your shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto chuckles. "You're finally up!"

His hair is down, wet from his shower, and he holds a thin towel together around his waist. In his hand is a cellphone, and he doesn't hesitate to shove the screen into your face. "Say hi, Tetsu!"

"Hi Y/N, how's it going?"

You blink slowly, still trying to wake yourself up.

"Kuroo, hey… I'm well. How are you?"

"Great, just about to head out for a late lunch. I hear it's almost ten pm over there."

"Yeah, it's an eight-hour time difference."

You and Kuroo continue to chat while Bokuto towels off his hair and puts on clothes. Afterward, you let Bokuto resume his conversation and join Akaashi on the bed. The man had gone full editor-mode with his glasses propped up in his hair as he read through some work documents.

When you approach, he greets you with a kiss on the cheek. "You look well-rested."

"Is that your way of telling me I have drool on my cheek, Keiji?"

He cracks a tiny smile, eyes taking in your features, then he pokes your cheek with his index finger. "Perhaps."

You scrub the corners of your mouth with your sleeve and drape yourself over Akaashi, work be damned. This was supposed to be a special weekend for relaxing.

"I really wanted to go to the beach today." You pout.

Akaashi interlocks his fingers with yours. "Maybe we still can. It stopped raining a few hours ago."

"Really?!"

You hop off the bed and head for the window. He's right, the rain had long stopped, and the beach lay bare, lit by only the moonlight.

Maybe a short walk to the beach would do you some good.

♥️

The grains of sand feel cold against your feet without the sun to beat down on them, but you don't complain. The air is humid enough on its own that you forgo wearing actual clothes and instead wear a swimsuit along with Bokuto's old Fukurōdani windbreaker.

You walk along the shore, toes digging into the sand, letting the ocean waves lap at your feet to wash them clean again.

At first, it's so eerily quiet without a soul around except you, but even that doesn't last long. You hear Bokuto's voice bellow into the night as he jogs towards you in nothing but swim trunks. Behind him, Akaashi trails slowly after with a blanket in hand.

"We thought you might want some company." He says and spreads the cover on the sand several feet away from the water, content with just watching.

Bokuto grabs your hand and you go running to the water with him, but a second later, you both come sprinting back.

"It's freezing!"

"S-So co-co-cold!"

You collapse on top of him, fingers splayed across his bare chest. However, when you try to sit up, Bokuto has other plans. He keeps you pressed to his chest with both arms around your waist.

"Let me keep you warm, baby!"

You know he meant it in the most innocent way, but you can't help but think other thoughts. Your nerves fray at the image that blooms in your head and spreads like wildfire.

And as Akaashi strokes your back, you know he's probably read your mind.

It's the way your eyes seem to glitter with want that gives it away. Akaashi has always been rather observant, and so your silent cues are something he's always been privy to.

His nimble fingers curve around the nape of your neck, and he tilts his head to capture your lips in a kiss. This one is unlike the one from yesterday. There is no rush, no desire to quicken his haste; instead, he savors the taste of you like it's something to be thoroughly enjoyed.

Underneath you, Bokuto stirs, growing aroused at the sight of his two lovers' kiss. He can't decide whether he wants to join in or sit back and watch. But his large hand comes down to stroke your ass, resulting in a moan you breathe directly into Akaashi's mouth.

"You're not usually so forthcoming, Keiji," you whisper against his lips. "Eager, are we?"

Akaashi pulls away just enough to pepper your face in feathery kisses. "Can you blame me? When I have such a lovely girlfriend here."

As if confirming his words, he slips a hand under your jacket and cups your breast. The pads of his thumb brush along the seams of your bathing suit, caressing your nipple.

"Kou, let's show Y/N just how much we love her, yes?"

Bokuto didn't need to be told twice. He had been in entranced by you and Akaashi, completely taken by the way your lips danced upon one another. But now, he wanted more than anything to touch you, kiss you, hold you.

Bokuto cradles you in his lap, propping your legs open with his knees so Akaashi can kneel in front of you. It didn't take much for him to relieve you of your clothing, namely your swimming bottoms. But the second the air hits your bare cunt, you feel tense.

You aren't sure what it was, but the atmosphere is different. Both Akaashi and Bokuto are so focused on you, it feels like you're under a spotlight.

"You're so pretty, so beautiful," Bokuto says while squeezing your thighs. His warm breath tickles your ear as he presses his nose into your neck. Next, his lips follow suit. "Wanna fuck you, so bad baby. You'd like that, right?"

His words earn him a chuckle from Akaashi, who merely licks two of his fingers, wetting them and sliding into you. Your mouth parts, shaky breaths barely expelled from your lungs. You're hyper-aware of the fact that you're literally being fingered on a beach in the middle of the night, and you can't bring yourself to care. It feels good to be pampered by the two men you love.

For every moan, Akaashi gives you double for your efforts, thrusting his fingers just right, curving them in such a way that has your back arching off Bokuto, who has also taken to fondling your nipples. With every roll of his hips, you feel his cock against your ass, and it pushes you further into Akaashi's fingers.

Your impending orgasm sweeps by so close and yet so far away. All you can do is rock yourself faster.

"Please," you whimper. "W-Wanna come."

Akaashi crooks his fingers, pressing into the perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching in intervals you have no control over until his hand is coated with your wet, slick juices that keep coming the more you squirt all over him.

"She's so wet 'Kaashi. Look at our pretty girl."

Akaashi places a chaste kiss on your forehead with a smile.

"She's doing well, so far. Let's see if she can keep going."

Bokuto shimmies his shorts off enough to free his hard cock. He had been uncharacteristically patient until now, but that was soon to change as he lines himself up with your cunt, teasing you with just the tip.

Your whining is unintelligible, but both men understand you more or less.

"Give the pretty girl what she wants," Akaashi says. He strokes his own hard-on at the sight of Bokuto's pushing past your wet folds. "I know she can take more than that."

Bokuto has always been girthy, and it takes you more than a few seconds to adjust to his size, but when you finally do, it feels like heaven.

The position you're in gives Bokuto all the power to thrust into you like a ragdoll. But it's only when you make eye contact with Akaashi that you realize that it's, in fact, the other way around for him in particular. From where he sits, stroking his cock with flushed cheeks and choked moans, you see just how much control you have over him.

"Kiss me." You moan.

Akaashi doesn't let you repeat yourself. He kisses you long and hard even as you grip his throat with one hand and his hair with the other. He kisses you until his lips are red and bruised.

"Good boy. Both of y-you."

Bokuto groans loudly. "Say it again. Keep saying it!"

"Y-You're both so good. I-" your hips stutter against Akaashi's fingers that are rubbing circles into your clit. "Good, so good-"

That's all it takes to take Bokuto over the edge, blowing his load. "Perfect, so fucking perfect."

You can feel another orgasm swelling up inside your belly. You try to tell them but can't, too overcome by the feeling of your body tingling with desire. It's too much, overwhelmingly so; your vision blurs with unshed tears as Bokuto continues to pound into sopping pussy. Pleasure floods every fiber of your being until you're limp and every nerve in your body is set alight.

Bokuto slips out of you easily, a string of his semen following.

You can only look on in a drowsy haze as Bokuto leans over and kisses you and then Akaashi, working him over with a tight fist.

♥️

The following morning, you’re the first to wake, but only because there’s a limb jammed into your back and a heavy weight on your chest. It takes you a moment to realize, but it’s Bokuto’s elbow poking you and Akaashi’s head resting on you.

All three of you are a tangle of limbs in bed, but you aren’t sure how you’d gotten there.

“G’mornin’” Bokuto breathes. His lips caress the column of your neck.

“Morning.”

You shift into a more comfortable position. Though doing so presses Akaashi’s morning wood against your thigh.

“Keiji, you awake yet?”

“Mmm barely.” Akaashi looks up at you through his lashes, then smiles and nuzzles closer into your chest.

Bokuto, content with being your big spoon, reaches over to touch Akaashi, hands cupping his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“That’s true, should we do something special.”

Thinking about the previous night, you feel desire stirring in your gut. “Could we just... do it again?”

Both men look to each other then back at you, sporting matching smiles.

“Why not?”

#bokuaka x reader #bokuto x reader #koutarou bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut

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sidespromptblog · 3 years

Text

What to Do?: Chapter 2

One, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Warnings: General anxiety, hurt/comfort, angst, and hurt feelings.

Word Count: 1,803

Logan could feel the tug in his gut of the others clearly trying to summon him into the centerpiece of the mindspace. For a split second he felt a jab of fear racing through him as he pondered whether or not he should actually go to them, they wouldn’t be happy about the decision he had decided to make for himself. If anything they’d probably be most cross with him about it, or… or perhaps they’d laugh at him. Say that it was ridiculous that he was trying to appear so professional with all the things that they knew about each other.

Yeah… they would most definitely try to laugh it off to clear the air, and to make him go back on his decision. To undermine his boundaries, and make him second guess himself when it came to this.

But he wouldn’t… he couldn’t.

Not about this, and most certainly not now. He had already talked himself into doing this, and he wasn’t going to let his imagination run away with him about it either.

He had made up his mind.

“Logan…” He could hear Patton referring to him.

“Logan.” He could hear Roman talking.

“Logan..” He could hear Virgil mumbling.

Logan’s fingers curled into his hands, and he could feel his temper flaring up before he even attempted to stamp it back down. “Shut up!” He snarled to himself, raising his hands to his ears as to block out the sounds of his name that came from inside his head. A part of him felt like sobbing, like curling up in a corner and just admitting defeat so that it would just make it all stop. But he couldn’t do that, and he knew that he couldn’t do that. There was too much work to be done… “Just stop!”

Logan. Logan. Logan…

Logan!

This could not wait another day, no matter what Logan tried to tell himself it just couldn’t. He needed to set things straight, and get it down with the others so they at least understood where he was on the matter, no matter how much it hurt their feelings. In the end, it would at least make him feel better, and hopefully… hopefully things would at least change then and he’d be listened to.

Even if it was only a little bit.

Straightening his back, and forcing his hands back down to his sides Logan rose up in the living room biting his tongue the entire time. He would only have to endure his name in their mouths for just a little bit longer, they might not listen, but at least they would know. And that’s literally all that he needed from them, it didn’t matter if they got upset or refused.

Because this was for him, not for them.

“Logan!” Virgil’s head whipped away from Patton and Roman, and to where Logan was standing. “Are you okay?” The anxious side tried to ask it cooly, but everyone could see his hands fidgeting with the loose threading strands of his sleeves. The anxiety he had felt coming off of Logan in waves had all but vanished the moment that he had arrived, and it had done very little to lessen Virgil’s own anxieties about the subject. His gaze seemed to look everywhere but Logan for an instance, before he finally willed himself to look at the logical side. “You seemed kind of anxious, and we were…” The words that were right on Virgil’s tongue died in an instant upon seeing the look on Logan’s face.

None of them had exactly gotten a chance to talk to Logan after his whole run in with Remus, but right then and there… Virgil wished that he had been there from the very start. To help Logan, and to help the logical side come to terms with the fact that his schedule hadn’t exactly been followed.

He wished… he wished that he had done something.

Because…

Logan didn’t look cold, he didn’t even appear to be disinterested in them like he had in the past when it came to discussing Roman’s daydreams or plans. He just looked…

Well it was weird, but he looked oddly polite.

Like a stranger waiting for someone to stop talking, so that he could speak his business.

Virgil swallowed thickly, “Deceit?” He merely asked, looking Logan up and down as if trying to spot any inconsistencies of the other side’s attire.

There was nothing.

And Logan slowly shook his head, his eyes remaining trained on Virgil steadily. He looked calm, the farthest thing from the side who used to scream falsehood at him and anyone who tried to lie to his face. His hair was a windswept mess, and his clothes even messier. With his tie loosened and the collar to his shirt unbuttoned by a single button. And it was that alone that sent alarm bells off in Virgil’s head, because despite all of that… Logan was here. He was calm, he was collected, and there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.

He looked fine.

But something was wrong, maybe it was just him but.. there had to be something wrong with Logan. He couldn’t be okay, not by any kind of standards. He knew Logan too well to know that the logical side would never show up to any kind of meeting with them dressed as he was. Logan was far too prideful for that, and he also knew that Roman would most certainly never let him live it down. So… something.. Something had to be wrong here. He couldn’t be okay.

Not after what happened.

“Logan,” Patton inched forward, a look of clear worry on his face. “You okay bucko? Are you feeling oka-”

“Logic.”

Patton blinked, hoping that he had misheard what Logan had just said to him. His voice chilly in the kind of way that made his back shiver, even if there wasn’t a single draft to be felt. “What?” He attempted a happy playful smile that wouldn’t betray how he was feeling, when the stoney look on Logan’s face didn’t even budge for a second he felt it slip right off into a puzzled frown. He was acutely aware of Roman and Virgil watching their interaction with the eyes of a hawk, their eyes were burning the back of his head. He could feel something inside of him tremble with that one word that Logan had spoken to him, and he hoped with everything that he was… that he’d only misheard Logan. With Logan’s firm unbreaking stare, and the obvious stares from the other two sides… he had to actively avoid squirming in place just from how uncomfortable he was starting to get from the change in atmosphere.

All it had taken was one word… and it felt like everything had just turned on its head.

Logan crossed his arms smoothly over his chest, “Given the state of our relationship, it is Logic.. Not Logan.” There wasn’t a single hint of joking or exaggeration in his voice, there was just that air of polite honesty that somehow managed to rub Patton the wrong way.

“What?” He asked again, his throat choking out the word. This time he was absolutely sure that he was about to cry, was this.. was this Logan ending their friendship? Was he really that tired of them and their jokes? Did he…

Did he hate them?

“What are you talking about?!” This time it was Roman who spoke up, the creative side had been lounging on the couch for a majority of the time. Only now rising once it was apparent how upset Patton was getting with Logan’s selective words, and to top it off… he was getting rather upset himself at it. Did this name change just go to Patton, or was it all of them combined? “Listen,” Roman tried to say patiently. “If you’re upset and angry about your schedule not being followed this is not the way to act about it, tell us and we’ll work something out. Don’t just pull this shit and expect us to not know what to do with it!”

Roman’s breath came out in hot angry puffs, he honestly hadn’t expected himself to get so worked up over this.

Logan’s eyes shifted over to him, clearly waiting a moment to see if Roman was done talking. “Creativity.” Roman’s lungs seized, and his breathing stopped right then and there with that one little word. Logan was… Logan was serious. “I am not angry.” He said patiently. “I understand that sometimes things come up that can get in the way of a preplanned schedule. It is okay, and I understand that nothing could be done that specific day.” Logan linked his fingers together. “However, I am merely stating that I wish to not be referred to so casually.”

Their mouths gaped openly, a mixture of concern, fear, and puzzlement written over each of their faces. For a moment Roman had no idea what to say, after everything involving Patton and Janus this just felt like one more thing that he didn’t understand. He was fairly certain that none of them understood this though, judging by the looks on each of their faces. None of them knew why Logan was choosing to pursue this, and honestly… he was kind of scared to know exactly why.

Because that meant in some kind of way… they had all fucked up.

Roman hated himself for the words that came out of him next, “Are we not close? I thought that knowing your name, and using it meant that.. that you trusted us with it.”

For a split second, Logan looked up to the ceiling and Roman fought the urge to bristle indignantly at the implications. The hurt in his heart steadily being replaced by a new feeling that he couldn’t yet put his finger on, but once he did…

“No,” Logan merely said, and didn’t elaborate. “I am going to go back to my room should you need to call on me again, I will be drafting up a new schedule that we can all hopefully agree upon, in the meantime... Have a good day.”

There wasn’t the tiniest hint of resignation or resentment, throughout everything that he’d told them Logan had remained polite to the very end. Even when he ducked out, there weren’t any side eyes, or upset looks from him. Just an air of civil courtesy, that felt so.. so unlike him. Logan got excited about his projects, and he got upset when they didn’t play out to how he wanted them exactly to go. He should have been upset, he should have been spitting barbs and being salty about his failed schedule, he should have reassured Virgil’s anxieties, and he should have…

He should trust them…

Shouldn’t he?

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #mentions of janus #mentions of remus #sanders sides #ts sides #ts sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts sanders sides fanfiction #ts sides fanfiction

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seokjinsonlyone · 3 years

Text

Not My Type | 3

pairing: jungkook x female reader

summary: "She's a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful."

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: none; jimin here tho being flirty and stirring the pot <3333

rating: pg

wc: 1.7k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Jungkook’s newfound hobby was driving her crazy. One too many times had their little lunch rendezvous made its way into her mind in the past week. The way he sniffed her hair oddly enough was a recurring playback. She had a thing for weirdos and Jungkook could definitely be classified as that. And, that was exactly why she needed to shut this whole thing down.

Now, she considered herself a progressive individual. She didn’t mind change as long as it was for the better. She didn’t have a problem evolving her relationship with a friend. In fact, she preferred it. Always said that if she was gonna get into it, she wanted to be with a friend. But, this particular friendship wasn’t the one. It wouldn’t make sense. There was no way it could possibly be better.

They were like oil and water. They didn’t mix. Which was fine as a friendship, they could peacefully coexist. Anything more than that, however, would be an unnecessary burden. And, her life didn’t need to be anymore difficult than it already was. She wanted an easy love. It was this line of reasoning that carried her straight to her best friend’s house.

“You need to talk to your friend,” she announced, waltzing into Jimin’s home, throwing her purse on the couch before finding him sitting at the island eating cereal.

He looked up. “I’ve already told you should just ask Taemin out. He’ll most likely say yes. He thinks you’re hot. Stop trying to get me to create scenarios.”

“And, I’ve already told you I refuse to pursue a man. No matter how dreamy and evil he is,” she sighed.

In all honesty, she probably would’ve gone for it if it weren’t for the fact that she could tell he wasn’t really into her. Not in the way she would’ve liked for him to be into her. He flirted with her in person (and in her dms), held her in a way that made her stomach jump after a few drinks, but ultimately his goal was a few nights in the sheets. And, that just wasn’t her thing. She didn’t do casual. Didn’t like to invite people into her life that weren’t going to stay. So even though she thought they could be good together, she was deciding to let this one go. If he couldn’t see what was right in front of him that was on him.

“You’re gonna end up alone.”

“You must realize that I am my favorite person.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about Jungkook.”

“What he do?”

“He’s been acting weird ever since last week.”

“What happened last week?”

She sucked her teeth. “You know, when we were all here?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, pupils shifting from side to side, visibly racking his brain trying to recall what happened at his place last week. “Oh! Wednesday! I was so drunk, bro. What happened?”

“Ugh. You don’t remember asking me to rank all of y’all from most to least my type?” Typical Jimin. Cause trouble then dip.

“What’d you rank me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I ain’t doing this again.”

He dropped his legs from the footrest of the barstool, tugging her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Mmm. You couldn’t handle me either way.”

She’s not gonna lie, her heart skipped a beat. But, that’s the only reason he did it in the first place. He knew it flustered her on some level. So, she decided to play along for once, bringing her hand up to toy with the hair that rested at the back of his neck. “Baby boy, I could make you cry,” she whispered seductively.

He made a face, then pushed her away turning his attention back to his cereal. “You’re gross.”

“You started it,” she accused, laughter bubbling up at his reaction. He was CEO of “Do as I say, not as I do.” Always in the mood to dish it out, but hardly able to take it in return.

“So, what’s going on? Why do I need to talk to him?”

“Because I told him he wasn’t my type, and now he’s trying to convince me that he is.”

He choked. “What?”

“He literally showed up at my work the other day and brought me lunch.”

“That was more so directed at you saying Jungkook isn’t your type.”

“He’s not.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking conspiratorially. “He isn’t,” she insisted.

“So, you didn’t used to drool over him when you two first met?”

“See why you gotta go and bring up the past.” She wouldn’t say that she had a full blown crush on him, she didn’t know him and therefore couldn’t actually like him, but for a minute she was down bad. She wasn’t expecting to meet him when she did. Jimin had wanted to hang out and asked for a ride. He was with Jungkook when she picked him up and she was effectively caught off guard. Before she even realized what she was doing, she was out of the car and shaking hands with him in greeting. The next few weeks were spent trying her hardest to be in his presence. She never said more than two words to the boy, but yeah she was down bad. Once her hormones subsided, though, they eventually developed a friendship. A friendship that needed to stay a friendship. “Besides, I never said he wasn’t hot. I’m saying our personalities don’t match up. It wouldn’t work.”

“You aren’t that different from each other.”

“Yeah, but we’re wrong in just the right ways. It wouldn’t work.” He was right in saying that weren’t all that dissimilar, but it was because of that that she was sure starting any kind of relationship with romantic intent would go up in flames. The two were like parallel lines. Never meant to cross. Adjacent, but never intersecting. As they should.

“It sounds to me like you’re just afraid of what could happen.”

“Hold on there partner. I didn’t come here to be lectured or psychoanalyzed. I don’t even think he likes me for real, but he’s heading down a slippery slope. I just want you to talk to him before he goes and starts something that’s gonna get his feelings hurt, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see what I can do.” One thing about Jimin was that he was nosy. Had absolutely zero qualms about getting all up in other people’s business. Knowledge equals power is what he always told himself. So, if she hadn’t come to him voluntarily offering up this information, he would’ve picked up on it sooner or later, inserting himself in the middle of it all. As it stands, he’s been giving explicit permission to do some digging. All he has to do is wait for the opportunity to arise.

The opportunity came a few days later. Jungkook was sitting on his couch, phone in hand, completely zoned out when Jimin pounced.

“So... Y/N?”

Jungkook startled at the mention of her name. It wasn’t like he was just thinking about her. He definitely wasn’t about to text her. He hadn’t spent the past minutes in a daze typing, deleting, and retyping messages to send. Nope. “Huh?”

“Y/N? What’s going on with you and her?” Jimin asked again.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” he feigned innocence, voice raising an octave. Even though, for all intents and purposes, there really wasn’t anything going on.

He looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not what she said.”

“What did she say?” She talked about him?

“You tell me.” He smirked sitting down, crossing one leg over the other like some kind of therapist.

“I don’t know. We had lunch,” he mumbled.

“Why?”

“Because I thought she might be hungry.”

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that she said you’re not her type?”

He blew raspberries into the air. He couldn’t lie to Jimin even if he tried. The man always managed to see right through him. A consequence of nearly ten years of friendship. “I’m just trying to get to know her better,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Because she’s nice.” Which wasn’t the complete truth, but if he admitted that he thought she had stars in her eyes he’d never hear the end of it.

“She’s a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that she’s one of the best people I know, but she’s stubborn and once she has an idea in her head it’s very hard for her to let go.”

“So you think I should stop?”

“I think you shouldn’t go into this blind, is all I’m saying. Whatever you’re doing, probably won’t be easy. And, I don’t want you to get hurt. Or hurt her. What do you plan on doing if you manage to make her like you? If you’re not serious then I think you should stop.” Jimin patted his shoulder, then got up leaving him to his thoughts.

Jungkook heard what he was saying. He did. And, he was right. He hadn’t been thinking too hard about what he was doing. Honestly, he was just following the skip in his heartbeat and so far that led him to her. There was a very real possibility of him getting his feelings hurt. She was very strong willed. Couldn’t budge her mind with a bulldozer. So, if she was dead set on being against this, there wasn’t much he could do anyway.

Still, this wasn’t something he could let go of easily. He had no intentions of hurting her. It wasn’t just some conquest for him. That much he was sure of. He would hate to get closer to her, have her catch feelings for him, then dip because he wasn’t feeling it. But, he seriously doubted that would happen. It’s not like they were complete strangers. He was just seeing her in a new light now. And as much as he didn’t want anyone to get hurt, at this point he didn’t know if this was something he should even avoid. It didn’t seem like it.

Truthfully, he didn’t feel this way often. This pull he now felt toward her. He was usually much too caught up in trying to be the best version of himself he could be to entertain thoughts of others. However, right now she had his attention and he didn’t want to look away. He opened his text thread with her typing and finally sending a message before he could overthink it.

[10:53pm] jk: lunch tomorrow?

#bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Ch. 5

18 + MINORS DNI

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: smut, blow jobs, vaginal sex, degradation, anal fingering, nipple play, face fucking, deep throating, nonconsensual photos, Shigaraki's big dick, rough sex, vaginal fingering, reference to exhibitionism, dirty talk, possessive Shigaraki, kinda unhealthy relationships, sort of loss of virginity for Shigs, creampie, brief reference to drug use, light cockwarming, praise and feels

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which Tomura bears all of his nasty soul and you get off on it.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @narcolepticroses (ask if you want to be tagged)

“I don’t—”

He couldn't finish the sentence, not when you were grinding down on him like that. How the hell did you even know how to move your hips in those little circles? Was there some "Being a Massive Slut for Dummies" book he was missing out on or?

“C’mon, Tomura, we’ve been through this,” you sighed and leaned down to suck a trail of sloppy kisses from his jaw to his ear, biting down on the soft flesh, “I know you’ve been thinking so much nasty shit about me, the least you can do is let me hear it.”

Those hands on his chest were moving again, curling into the hem of his t-shirt and tugging until it was over his head and tossed aside to the floor. On an embarrassing instinct, Tomura’s hands shot up to cover himself, only stopping when you leaned onto your haunches and tugged off your own.

“Shit,” Tomura whispered.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath.

He drank in the sight of those cute fucking tits he’d only ever caught glimpses of through those low cut tops you always wore. You grinned down at him, both hands coming up to play with your chest, fingers pinching and rolling the pretty buds. Tomura felt drool slip from the corner of his mouth.

“Is that all you got?” you challenged.

He wasn’t completely in control of his body as it catapulted off the bed to smash his face between your squished up tits, but neither of you were complaining judging by the sounds that followed.

You hummed happily as he pressed his cheeks to the warm, soft flesh and his lips closed around your nipple, sucking and laving his tongue over the pebbled skin.

“You really wanted everyone to see these, huh?” he meant the words to have more bite but it was hard to get the right edge with your fucking boob in his mouth.

And he wasn’t looking to stop suckling at you anytime soon so….

“They’re nice tits, what can I say,” you shot back and he couldn't wait to have you fucked so stupid all those witty one-liners would die on your tongue.

You fucking tasted so good. He hadn’t ever thought that tits would have a taste at all but the odd combination of skin and spit was addictive.

“Got a whole fucking eye full that first time you talked to me in class,” he growled, sinking his teeth in hard enough to leave a mark around your nipple. “Fucking parading them around every time you leaned over. Thought you were so fucking desperate for attention.”

If you really wanted to know all the vile, gross shit he thought on the daily then who was he to deny you that pleasure.

Cause you were definitely feeling some type of way about it based on the way your fingers threaded through his hair and held him to your chest as he tongued and bit at the skin.

“Think I’m just a stupid attention whore, is that it?” you moaned when he switched breasts, palm kneading at the one he’d abandoned.

“I think you’re a useless slut who’ll do anything to get a guy to fucking look your way,” Tomura gasped and sunk his teeth in again.

A shiver ran through him at the whine leaving your lips.

He did that.

He needed to do more of that immediately.

“You like it when I call you a fucking slut?”

Tomura didn’t know what came over him in that moment—what weird spirit of horny confidence possessed his body—but suddenly, with a surge of motion, his hand left your chest and latched onto the smooth column of your throat. The move had actually been quite graceful until he tried to flip your positions and got his legs tangled with yours, resulting in more of a...sexy pile than the smooth transition of power he was going for.

You didn’t seem to mind though.

You never did.

Tomura guessed if he was going to admit something nice about you, then it would be that at least you were consistent.

“I do like it when you call me that,” you breathed into his ear, hands under his arms to haul him back over top of you and replace the hand at your throat with a smirk, “and you love that it’s true.”

Fuck.

He really did, now that he thought about it. All those message boards always talked about finding virgins who you could mold to your dick just like they were meant to be, but…he was so fucking anxious at the best of times, having your eyes that pissed him off and knew it made this so much more fun.

There was probably a more eloquent wording than that, and you would probably more than willing to supply it, but the goal was to shut you up and he wasn’t gonna be okay with just coasting this time.

“God, you need to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he spat and subsequently yelped as you leaned forward, licking a wet trail up his chest before latching onto one of his nipples.

The flushed, pink skin disappeared into the heat of your mouth, leaving his dick twitching violently in his pants that had grown too tight and damp for comfort. The languid motion of your tongue over the rapidly pebbling flesh and the goldilocks perfect way in which you nipped at him was enough to corroborate all your claims of experience.

With the constant, electric spark pleasure running from his chest to his pants, Tomura found formulating sentences a little challenging, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Why don’t we give you something even better to with that fucking whore mouth, hm?”

It was cliche as hell, stolen straight from one of the admittedly plentiful pornos he’d watched in his day, but you just grinned and popped off his nipple, nodded frantically at the innuendo.

Those clever little fingers that seemed to type without ever stopping dropped to the waistband of his sweats and tugged them down his thighs. He kicked a bit awkwardly to get them off his ankles but you were already yanking the elastic of his boxers. You smiled up at him through your lashes as you tucked the fabric just under his balls and let your eyes wander slowly from his splotchy red chest to the patch of hair just at the base of his dick.

If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought you were drooling.

Tomura felt a bit more in his element here, having had some actual frame of reference—as his asshole roommate was so generous to provide—so he didn’t waste any time. Falling onto his back, he squirmed up the sheets until his head was resting on a pillow and you were crawling between his thighs. God and you had your ass up too, wiggling it back and forth like you were wagging your tail at just the thought of getting his cock in your mouth.

Well, since you were so eager, Tomura decided to jump right in. You seemed to like things a bit rough anyway, so he reached out, burying a hand harshly in your hair and plunging past your lips.

The cute and kinda disgusting, choking gasp you let out was delectable.

And now he fucking knew Dabi was lying about his dick being small, cause you had a big fucking mouth to talk all that shit and it was absolutely stuffed full.

Your lips were stretched obscenely not even halfway down his shaft and your eyes were already pricked with tears at the edges. The fucking feel of your mouth was like how he imagined silk might feel, if it was soaked and scorching. Your throat constricted around him as you gagged and oh it was fucking cock sucking heaven he was in.

Tomura was almost tempted to grab his phone and snap a—

Actually, that was a fucking great idea.

His free hand fumbled for his pants, closing around his phone and unlocking it while you hummed and pulled back, bobbing your head twice before sinking back down, Your eyes flew open when the camera flash lit up the dark corner of his room. He could feel you trying to move away, to snap at him for taking his little keepsake, but he quickly fisted your hair and bucked his hips up to keep you firmly on his dick.

“Oh no, you were so excited to suck me off, you’re gonna finish the fucking job before you breathe again,” he panted, holding the sides of your face and fucking your mouth in earnest.

He’d found it easy to simply follow the instinctive rhythm of his hips, constantly seeking out the wet heat source. Your eyes rolled back in your goddamn head as his length slid past your lips over and over again

Holy shit it felt so good.

And it felt even better when he could see how much you loved it.

How much you loved his filthy fucking mostly virgin cock shoved down your throat and he finally felt the vulgar dam in his mind break once again.

“I think about you all the time,” he gasped, keening high when you ran your tongue over his slit on ever upstroke, just how he liked it. “I lay here at night and fuck my hand and think about sinking into your tight fucking cunt. I wanna fill you up so bad, it’s the only thing on my mind whenever I talk to you.”

The only thing stopping him from cumming straight down your throat in that moment was sheer horny force of will.

“When you mouth off in class, all I hear is you just begging for someone to bend you over and fuck that cocky fucking attitude right out of you,” below him, you reached a hand up, pinching hard at his nipple and humming at the squeal that slipped from him. “Fuck, and I want eat your pussy while you’re up there presenting this shit, so I can watch you try and keep it together. Such a fucking slut just for me.”

Something was washing over him.

Some weird, intense revelation of something that perhaps he’d always known but just needed the motivation of a fucking earth shattering blowjob to work out of him—that he wanted you. Really wanted you. Felt entitled to you. He’d spent so much mental energy obsessing over it: that really, no one else fucking deserved to touch you but him.

No one else would want you this much.

No one else would want him this much.

Your hands had found their way to his thighs and they were rubbing sweet little circles into the soft skin.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you?” his voice was wrecked, even more than usual from the near constant string of high pitched whining. “You’d love to have me fucking ruin you, make you cum all over my tongue in front of everyone. Let them fucking know who does this shit to you.”

You managed a nod, even with his cock buried deepdeepdeep in your throat. And Tomura was fucking twitching at the thought. The muscles in his legs jumped under your touch. A slimy mix of spit and precum was gushing down his length, slipping over his balls and slicking his ass. It was sloppy and the room was so full of the wet slap of his hips against your mouth.

It was so much, too much, oh shit, shit he didn’t want to finish like this—

“Wait, wait!” he cried, back arching with the agony of leaving the plush paradise between your lips. “Please—I wanna cum in you.”

You looked up at him, head hanging from his grip in your hair, with your jaw slack, dripping and nodded. He felt as though his ribs were filled with magnets instead of marrow that pulled him into your outstretched arms, kneeling as he pressed his mouth frantically to yours, uncaring of the mess or the faint taste of bitter precum.

There was something frantic in the air, like a switch had been flipped. The need to feel you, to be connected at every point—to get just a little bit more of what he’d earned—grew stronger with every passing second.

His lips were rough and raw and stung when you licked them but that only made it sweeter. You tongued at his teeth and sucked him into your mouth like he was warm food after months without. It was needy. Needy and ragged because you needed him.

You needed him.

What a fucking thought that was.

Your pants were quickly discarded along with his boxers, and for the first time in his life, Tomura didn’t care about all the exposed skin. He didn’t think about all the unsightly patches of irritation or scaring, because you never had. Not once had you ever stared or commented and you weren’t starting now. Your hands smoothed over every inch of him, just as desperate as he always knew you would be.

Because you were so—

Perfect.

Fucking disgusting.

Tomura let you fall back onto the mattress and whimpered at the feeling of your thighs hitched around his waist. He made the mistake of letting his eyes leave your mouth to glance down and oh, oh he was enraptured.

Dabi was right, he’d never actually seen a pussy in real life and holy shit.

His fingers gravitated immediately to your lips, fucking soaked, soaked in arousal that had smeared on your thighs.

“You get this fucking hot just from my cock in your mouth?” he asked, grinning as he collected some of the slick on his fingers and brought them curiously to his mouth.

Delicious.

“Yes—fuck—yes!” you whined and pulled him closer with your thighs.

“You want me to fuck you that bad?” his fingers ghosted over where he thought your clit might be and was rewarded when you moaned low as he brushed over a raised bud. “Does this nasty little slut want me that fucking bad?”

“Please Tomura…” his name on your tongue was better than any crazy ass party drug Dabi ever brought home, “you have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting you so fucking deep in me—”

Your words cut off with a sob as he ran his fingers down, searching for your entrance and sinking in hard when he found it. And it was so nice in there.

So fucking hot.

“What are you?” he asked, thrusting his fingers in and out, trying to remember how Dabi did it to him and what felt good, couldn’t be that much different.

He plunged them deep and curled up towards your belly and you sobbed, “A fucking slut!”

God he was so glad no one else was around to hear that.

This was just for him.

“And who’s fucking slut are you?”

He really could help himself, he just wanted you to say it so fucking bad.

“Yours,” you whined and rolled your hips down so his thumb caught on your clit. “I’m your fucking slut!”

“Shit,” he rasped and ripped his fingers from you.

He wasn’t entirely conscious of his movements. There was just one, very loud voice, screaming in his head to bury his cock in that perfect fucking heat and suddenly his was gripping himself and pushing in and—

“Ahh, fucking god,” Tomura whimpered, body going limp as his tip was sheathed fully inside you.

His forehead dropped down to rest against yours, arms like half cooked pasta on either side of your head, failing to hold him up. You moved your hands, sliding fingers through his hair and down his back as your ankles locked right above his ass to urge him forward.

Tomura’s cock sunk in inch by inch until he bottomed out with a groan. His mouth moved even when the rest of him couldn’t

“So tight…” he mumbled, head slipping into the crook of your neck and sucking lightly at the skin, feeling the comfort of it in his mouth. “Ngh...didn’t think it’d be this tight.”

“Are you trying to insult me or were you just a virgin?” you huffed out, but there was a laugh bubbling just behind the words.

He weakly held up two fingers to indicate the second, dropping them immediately to clutch at the sheets when you clamped down on his cock, nestled sweetly against your cervix.

“Wait really?” you asked, hands skimming up his back to grip his cheeks.

Tomura tried to hide himself in your shoulder, because the fucking dopey ass smile on his face would surely feed your ego and he didn’t need you knowing that your pussy had him fucking higher than a goddamn kite.

If only his bones hadn’t suddenly taken on all the physical properties of jello.

“I’ve fucked around before,” he said, which was technically true, “just never in a...uh, like this.”

He didn’t even need to move—which was really a lie cause he was burning with the urge to drive himself frantically into your dripping cunt—but he was so blissed out from just the soft, warm, tight hug of your walls around his cock which pulsed precum with every clench, that simply being inside you at all was enough.

What he wouldn’t give to have this all the time. Have you constantly sitting on his dick, keeping him warm and hard and cumming inside you.

Cumming.

Right.

At the reminder of why exactly he’d set out to do this, his body regained a bit of it’s former solidity.

“Oh,” you began, voice strained and hips shaking with the effort of not rocking back on his dick and making him blow his load too soon. “Well, you feel fucking amazing—”

Tomura cut you off with an experimental thrust. He pulled all the way back, watching as his tip just nearly popped out of your cute fucking hole and then snapped in again. You were a mess above him instantly, gripping at the pillows and then at his arms, dragging red scratches down the pale, fragile skin there.

It only spurred him on.

“You like that? Like my huge fucking cock in you?” he growled, flopping down fully so he could feel your nipples brush against his while he railed into you.

As much as you apparently enjoyed hearing all the filth that spewed from him, he really liked having a receptacle for it all to an even greater degree. It had been hidden inside him for so long, the release was only made sweeter with the addition of your slutty fucking pussy clamping on his length at every word.

“So fucking big, Tomura—”

You rocked up to slip your tongue into his mouth again, sucking softly at his rough lower lip and drinking down all the less than dominant cries that poured from him as his release grew again. He wasn’t really sure how to get you off, but you seemed to understand the intentions behind his hand wandering to nudge at the space he was driving his cock into.

Those soft fingers held his and guided them up to that nub he’d found before and moved his hand in little, rhythmic circles that had you fucking sobbing into his mouth.

Real tears streaked down your face as you moaned into him, “Oh fuck, yes Tomura, baby, just like that…!”

And for once, he had absolutely no qualms with doing exactly what you said. He wanted—needed—to know what it would feel like for you to cream all over his dick. Wanted to see the stupid fucking face you would make as he ripped you apart on his definitively massive length.

You were pushing back into each thrust, drinking in the sound of slapping skin, mouth permanently attached to his—tongues locked together.

The taste of fruit gum mixed with salty cum and the smell of sweat and sex and cleanlaundryshampoo was fucking everywhere. It was intoxicating and heady and all he had ever needed.

Really, you weren’t so bad when you were crying on his cock.

And you were fucking crying, screaming for him—his name, calling him ‘baby’ in a way that had his heart stuttering uncomfortably in his throat and babbling about how good, how fucking perfect he felt inside.

“C’mon,” he grunted, “c’mon, I wanna see my fucking slut cum for me, all over my cock.”

And for once, you actually followed an order.

His fingers on your clit never let up and he could fucking feel the orgasm wash over you. Your cunt spasmed and clenched hard like a vice, tighter than anything he ever could have imagined. And you choked out his name, so desperate:

“Tomura, fuck yes baby!”

God your face was so good, all scrunched up and then relaxing into a blissful, panting, open-mouth grin.

It was sort of beautiful.

But he wasn’t gonna fucking say that.

“Good fucking slut,” he whispered instead, arching his chest into yours so he could feel the swell of your pretty tits against his nipples.

And he almost fucking lost it right there but he needed more, needed to feel full too. The tightness of your pussy was so unmatched by any sensation, but he guessed Dabi always called him a greedy whore for a reason.

His hand grabbed at yours—hips only letting up when he couldn’t actively get his dick out of you as you came—and brought it roughly to his lips. Tomura was still slick, covered in spit and sweat but he sucked two of your fingers into his mouth anyway. His tongue delved between them as you watched with wide eyes as he spat onto your palm and whined.

“I need—oh shit—inside, inside...fuck…”

He could fucking get his tongue to make the words but he dragged your hand to his ass and prayed you’d get the hint. Prayed you’d fill him up too.

And you certainly delivered.

His hips started up their unforgiving rhythm again now that you’d rode out your release, slipping even more easily into your pussy with all the slick spilling out of you. God that would be his cum soon—his cum dripping out onto your thighs. Your feet dropped to the bed and Tomura grabbed your waist for leverage.

Your clever little finger circled his hole, wrist bent from the awkward angle below him but working nonetheless. His spit and precum made less than ideal lube but he welcomed the burn of you entering him. A second one joined behind the first and it was rough going for a moment until he was able to rock back fully, finding a certain bend of the knee and half thrust that had him simultaneously grinding into you and fucking himself on your fingers.

And then you managed to get deep enough to brush against that fucking spot, that magic fucking spot that had him seeing stars and screaming your name—not slut, not bitch, not some other fucking cruelty—your name and spilling rope after rope of hot cum against those searing hot walls.

Your eyes did that thing where they rolled halfway up and crossed like this was some fucking hentai and you weren’t knuckles deep in your creepy group project partner's ass while he came inside you.

Tomura went completely limp then, boneless like a cheap chicken wing and collapsed onto your chest, whimpering when your fingers left him empty but comforted by the rhythmic clenching of your cunt, warming his cock and keeping his cum safe inside.

“So good,” you whispered into his hair, soft palms smoothing over his back in slow circles. “Felt so good, Tomura. You were so good.”

He shivered in your arms, lulled by the feeling of your breasts under him and breathing in the mixture of soap and sex that radiated from your skin. Everything about it was strange, but in that wonderful kind of way that new games sometimes were. A tingling at the prospect of a new adventure, a new world, and a new journey to embark on.

You pressed your lips to his sweat slicked forehead and didn’t turn away in disgust.

No, instead you just held him on his cum soaked sheets and slept.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x you #bnha fanfiction #bee.writes

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not-your-damsel · 3 years

Text

Craving You

Word Count :: 4,994

A/N :: Go easy on me, my sweeties. This is my first full fic in the hottest of minutes.

This is just some soft, tender, Husband! Hitoshi Shinsou x Pregnant Fem! Reader missing each other dearly. We’re sticking with Keiid’s adult version of Toshi because that version of him has me absolutely fuckin’ weak 🥴

CW :: Minors DNI, NSFW, 🔞, Smut, Tender Loving Hours, Slight Choking. Pretty much it, I wanna say.

You will 100% be blocked if you’re a minor liking/re-blogging this work, or if your age isn’t in your bio and you’re liking/re-blogging this work. Simple as that!

You woke with a start, small hand darting out to feel for your husband only to feel his side of the bed not only empty, but cold. You sighed and attempted to sit up, holding your rounded stomach, feeling as your body ached. “Toshi?” You called out, silence answering back before sniffing for any hint of coffee in the air that he so loved to brew, strong enough to wake the dead. Nothing. Had he even been home at all last night? Being pregnant had done some weird things to not only your body, but your senses and sleeping habits. You noticed you’d sleep deeper than usual, something you hated. You wanted to be able to know when Hitoshi got home, when he hit the bed, anything. You wanted to be able to help should he need it. Take the other night for example. On his way home from being out on patrol he stumbled on a man who was robbing the local convenience store and though he caught the robber, he hadn’t escaped the ordeal without the guy putting up a surprisingly good fight. Toshi came home that night beaten to hell and you’d spent the better part of the evening with him on the toilet while you cleaned and patched him up. He didn’t want the help, wanted you to rest with your swollen ankles raised but you wouldn’t hear of it. When you were done, you carded your fingers through his short wild indigo locks, kissing his forehead while he caressed your stomach before wrapping his arms around you. You slipped your black cat slippers on, waddling from the loft down to the kitchen to grab a cup of black tea. Once you finished there, you made your way to the bathroom, turning shower on to your desired temperature. Your back was hurting and you wanted nothing more than to have hot water splashing against the painful spot as hot as you could bear. Carrying a whole other human inside you was hard work. You couldn’t wait to get back to work, kicking ass alongside your husband, the Shinsou’s back at it being a top hero power couple. You felt so out of shape and bloated and your breasts hurt when they were too full of milk, back and ankles on fire and swollen... you just seemed to be in perpetual pain these last 2 months. Not only that, you and Hitoshi’s sexual activities had to be put on hold and that was getting to you both and you knew it. You didn’t have to ask Toshi to know how much he was aching for you to the point of it making him at least a little crazy. As reserved as he was, gentle in his demeanor with you, and calm as a still lake, he was a human and he had needs. He’d never tell you, but he had to keep himself on more than one occasion from ripping your clothing off and bending you over the nearest surface to fuck you silly. Your dom and sub roles in the bedroom had to also be put on hold because Hitoshi could be a particularly rough man when it came to that, never truly knowing the full extent of his strength. He’d been absolutely terrified out of his wits of being rough once you started to show.

Great. Now you were sorely in pain and horny. “Stupid, stupid woman.” You seethed at yourself. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed the door to the shower open. It wasn’t until you felt the cool air hit your back that you felt a large set of hands slide from your hips to cradle around your stomach, your body tensing ever so briefly before relaxing. “Hitoshi, you scared the shit out of me.” You breathed, your shoulders relaxing. “I’m sorry, kitten. Are you ok?” He asked, hearing his voice was more gruff than usual had you turning to look at him. The normal bags under his eyes now looked like a set of luggage. He’d taken on more hours over the past several weeks to help build up some parental leave for when his daughter was due, he was busy doing so much and you felt bad. You cupped his cheeks before stepping forward on the balls of your feet with your lips poised for a kiss. He lent the rest of the way down to meet you, the water hitting his short wild tresses in the process, wetting it. “Toshi, thank you. You’re doing a lot and it shows. I wish you could rest already, we appreciate it and you so much.” You held the back of his neck, your thumbs rubbing lovingly along the sides behind his ears. He gave a tired, crooked grin, pecking your forehead then your nose before pulling away and looking at you with love, “It’s all for you guys, I love you with everything I am and I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” He joked with a chuckle.

Before you had a chance to protest, moving to swat him at his choice of words, he grabbed your wrist and held it to his chest, dipping again to kiss you passionately, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip for permission, but you were already opening for him to invade your wet cavern with his muscle. Hitoshi’s kiss was hungry, conveying all the pent up want and need he had for you, his wife. His large hands roamed down your back, thick fingers skimming the curve of your spine before they landed at your hips giving them a loving squeeze only to then rest on each cheek of your behind where he pulled you against him, allowing you feel how hard he was for you. Gasping in his mouth before continuing the kiss, you threaded your fingers through his hair again, tugging and earning you a groan of pleasure from deep within his chest. With your hand still held against his chest, you dragged your nails across the neat indigo chest hairs that lay there before sliding over to graze over his nipple, hardening it. Toshi was breathing harder through his nose now, his hips rolling of their own accord before pulling away. You whined, eyes lidded and drunk off his searing kiss. He grinned before looking around your spacious rainfall shower to the built in bench. “Do you trust me, kitten?” Hitoshi asked. You shook your head in confusion. “What kind of... you know I do, with my life.”

Hitoshi guided you to the bench to sit for a moment before he stepped out of the shower to grab a couple of things. “I-I’ll be right back,” he said with his hands held up, nonverbally telling you to stay put, where you smiled and nodded as he stepped out of the bathroom. You’d heard him faintly talking to himself before a loud bang sounded out followed by him swearing under his breath loudly. “Toshi? Are you alright?” You called, tilting your head from where you sat with a hand on your stomach rubbing it. “I’m ok, my love!” He called before turning up at the door a moment later with a couple things in hand, namely a towel and his hero weapon, the capture cloth. You were puzzled to say the least. “What are you doing, sweetie?” You asked him with your brow cocked and lips parted in wonder. “Well, I know we haven’t been able to get as intimate as we’d normally like due to me being so busy at work and you being... being... so pregnant,” ‘Nice choice of words, Hitoshi.’ He mentally slapped himself, “So I had an idea while I was on my way home. Care to try?” He asked you, purple tried eyes looking at you so hopeful it ached you to see. You’d nodded and began the monumental task of trying to stand until he stopped you. “No, no, let me set it up, ok?” Toshi nodded as he helped you to sit back down again.

You guys’ shower was rigged in a such a way that there were bare decorative pipes that were hanging from the ceiling with holes drilled in them that assisted in providing the rainfall effect. Toshi rigged his capture cloth expertly through those pipes and used the towel, folded, against a portion of it. Before you knew it, you were looking at a rigged swing made out of the two items. The towel was placed as a little padding for a seat of sorts and Hitoshi stood back to survey his handy work. He nodded, happy with the look of it before looking back at you with a lopsided grin. “What do you think, kitten?” He asked, reaching his hands out to help you up from the bench. “I think it’s really smart... and I think you’ve been thinking about this for much longer than on your way home.” You poked at his side with your nails, causing him to jump a little before he grabbed the back of his neck, rubbing it. “Ok, ok. I’ve been thinking of what to do for a couple of weeks now, you got me.” Hitoshi admitted, pulling you close into his side. “I just... I just really, really miss you.” He said lowly. You looked into his beautiful, tired eyes, noting that they were lust blown. His purple orbs almost drowned out by dark, black pupils resembling voids. Drinking you in, full of want and need, his hand roamed your back, squeezing in a massaging manner that had your own eyes slipping shut. He felt how tight and knotted various places of your back were, frowning to himself. “I miss you so much, kitten. So fucking much.” Hitoshi was now pressed against the side of your face, gruff voice in one ear as he kneaded the skin of your sore back. “Toshi, I miss you so much too, I wish I can know about your safety the way I used to.” You were now pressed against his body, your arms around his neck while on your tippy toes to reach him better.

Hitoshi’s hands abandoned your back to glide down your hips, further below to start squeezing the backs of plush thighs as he lent down to kiss you passionately, his tongue in your mouth again, exploring every inch of it trying to memorize it even after all these years together. “I missed the way you feel against me. I absolutely crave the way you taste to the point that it’s all I think about, getting in the way of my work, do you know that, little kitten?” Toshi said against your neck before he bit down on your pulse point. Moaning, your fingers dipping into his hair where your nails grazed his scalp. “Tosh- ah!” You squeaked, Hitoshi lifting you off the shower floor as your legs and arms immediately wrapped around your hulking husband for support, swollen, large belly pressed against his chiseled abs suddenly had you feeling some type of way as you stared down at where you both pressed together. “I love you.” You said, looking up to him to find that he was already staring down at you, watching as you took in the roundness of your stomach, holding his and your baby inside you. Your eyes brimmed with tears as he walked both of you to his little set up. “I love you, too. Baby? Baby what’s wrong?” Hitoshi asked, unsure if this was something that had to do with pregnancy hormones or something he possibly did. You hugged him, warm tears falling onto his shoulder. He held his capture cloth in place as he set you down, perching you on a few bands he’d lined up to make a makeshift seat that was plush from the towel he set there. He backed up cautiously in case you’d tip in any single direction and he needed to grab at you. You went to wipe your eyes but Hitoshi was already doing it. His large hands cupping either side of your face, large enough to eclipse your delicate face easily. It would’ve looked comical in any other circumstance, but he loved the way you fit perfectly in his hands.

“Talk to me, baby girl.” He said, squatting down to be able to look at you better. His hands now at your thighs, rubbing soothingly up and down them while occasionally rubbing your belly. “I’m happy is all. I just... as a pain in the ass as it can be sometimes, I couldn’t be happier carrying our baby.” you said, another round of fat tears spilling from your face. “I’m sorry, I’m all over the place and I missed you, I’m so stupid an-“ “Hey.” Hitoshi’s tone was stern, shivers instantly running down your arms and legs so strongly that even he felt the goosebumps break out across the skin of your soft thighs. “I don’t want my kitty cat talking about herself that way,” his hands now skimmed over the tops of your thighs, slipping in between them and parting them. “I take offense when my wife is talked about in any sort of negative capacity,” he leaned in closer, you were so enraptured by what he was saying, having not been spoken to like that for what felt like forever that you weren’t even paying attention to his actions. “Even if it’s from my wife.” He licked a fat stripe up your core, able to cover more ground with his tongue flattened, a hiss of a gasp being drawn in as your feet swung from the sensation. “Toshi!” You threaded your fingers through his hair and balled your hand into a fist, pulling his hair, spurring him on as he licked more forcefully, tongue delving into your hole as he nudged himself deeper into your wetness. His hands closed around your hips and pulled you closer, the stubble of his beard rubbing against your skin deliciously as he worked like a man starved.

Toshi was giving all he had then, moaning into you, as he slurped and sucked, tasting what he longed for for weeks. His hand closed around your thigh, propping it up over his shoulder to delve deeper. Even with the shower running you could see the pre leaking from Hitoshi’s tip. Wiggling a little and masking it as movements to his actions, you take your free foot and gently rub it against his length causing him to pull away with a hiss before looking up at you through purple lashes. His eyes became lidded, grabbing that same leg and throwing it over his other shoulder before diving back in and licking with fervor. “Ah, fuck!!” You yelped, feeling as though you’d fall backwards but Hitoshi’s hands wrapped around your back and pulled you closer, anchoring you in place, assuring your safety. It was then that he started to tongue fuck you, his wet muscle delving in and out while intermittently swiping up to pay attention to your clit when his nose wasn’t bumping into it. Your moans got louder, soft thighs shaking around his head as you felt your first orgasm approaching fast.

Hitoshi wrapped one arm around your back as sturdily as he could so he could bring a free hand into the mix. Two thick fingers slid into your core, replacing his tongue as he began pumping at a brutal pace, crooking them just right. “Oh, oh God...” Your voice shook, one hand in his wet hair and the other latched onto his shoulder, nails leaving crescent moon indents into his flesh now that your legs were free. Toshi’s breathing was ragged, his mind on one goal and one only, the one thing he’d been envisioning his fingers do for the last 4 nights at the agency while he filed reports into the early morning hours. Your walls began to flutter, his lidded purple orbs flitting to yours as he came up for air, watching his wife get overtaken with pleasure. “I love you... I love you...!” Toshi panted into your pussy before you threw yourself back from the force of your orgasm, liquid gushing forward and coating his arm and then his face as he dove in to lap up what he could, instantly wrapping his arms around you again for stability so you wouldn’t fall backwards. He went from vigorous licks to kitten licks which melted into soft kisses. Kisses leading from your drenched core to your thighs and then your stomach as he rubbed loving circles into it with his thumbs, getting up from his position on the floor of the large shower, kissing the top of your head when he reached his full height. “You did so good for me, my beautiful kitten, you always do. I love you, sweetheart.” He cooed. “I love you, too.” You panted out.

He tipped your worn out, blushing face upwards to look at him, still catching your breath but not caring as you leaned forward to reach for Hitoshi’s cock before he grabbed your hands softly. “Baby, no need... w-wait till we’re done here, I’ll be raring to go again.” He smirked. In your post orgasmic haze, you didn’t even realize that from the sheer visuals and moans alone that you’d provided was enough to make him come, the water having washed away his mess. Toshi gathered both of your wash items, placing them closer on the bench in the shower before helping you down off the makeshift swing to stand before himself. He deposited some shampoo in his palm before massaging it in your scalp, washing your hair before running his hands through it to rinse it. He did the same with the conditioner, only leaving it in your hair as he washed your body lovingly. Admiring every curve and dip, no sexual drive behind his actions, just pure love before rinsing you off. When he was done, you gently guided him down on the bench so you could reach his head properly. Hitoshi stood at a whopping 6’ 1”. He was always on the taller side out of the many students at UA, coming in at 5’ 9” when you two met but as the years went on, he just kept sprouting. You were smaller compared to him, standing shorter in stature, you just reached above his shoulder when you and him stood side by side and you loved it. You loved climbing him like he was a mountain, latching onto him, your smaller frame melting and melding into his larger one, and it was one of your most favorite things in the world when he was spooning you.

A large palm came to rest against your stomach as you worked the lather in his hair, pulling you from your thoughts. “What are you thinking about, kitten?” Hitoshi asked, feeling as his unborn baby would push against wherever he’d touch. “You.” You hummed to yourself as you rinsed his hair free of the conditioner, bending to pour some body wash on his washcloth. No loofahs for Hitoshi Shinsou in your house, ‘Too damned girly’ was how he’d put it and you giggled at the thought. “What’s so funny, hm?” He grinned lopsidedly, bending to kiss your stomach with his eyes closed, lips brushing across your skin. It was moments like this that you wanted to snapshot and put away forever for you to cherish, observing the endless beauty he never seemed to know he has. At least until the silent admiration was interrupted by him pulling away and holding his chin exaggeratedly. You laughed, as you rubbed the cloth over his neck muscles to loosen him up. “She’s gonna pack a wallop, huh?” He joked, rubbing his jaw as you nodded with a smile. Hitoshi sighed as you kept working the washcloth over his upper body, his back, pressing as hard as you could which earned you some relieved of grunts. “Up, sweetie.” You stepped back a bit as Toshi stood, willing the jelly feeling you’d imparted on him out of his body. Bringing the washcloth to his abs, you rubbed, the scent of his body wash filling your senses as you got drunk off it. Your husband always smelled so nice, so warm and comforting. Like a cozy cabin tucked away in the woods on a cold winter night, it brought you comfort and safety. He watched you work, noting how you’d pause every now and again to deeply inhale his scent and with every open of your eyes, the more they lidded. When you got to his member, it was semi erect. You looked up at him and he smiled with a wink, “I told you. Gimme that, I think we’re done here.” He said as he finished up the rest of his body in record time, you giggling at his quickness as you put the items away before he tossed the washcloth back in its spot, and swooped you into his arms.

You squealed out with a laugh, Toshi minding where your stomach landed, his broad shoulders between your breasts and stomach, pushing the door open and draping a large towel over your body before bringing the both of you to your bedroom where he gently plopped you onto your large bed. He hovered over your laughing frame, watching as water dripped down from his hair onto the bed above your own head. Your laughing slowed as you noticed his silence, smiling at him and bringing a hand to his scruffy cheek to thumb gently at a scar he had over the left side of his lips leading into his chin. He turned his head and kissed inside your palm, his hand wrapped around your delicate wrist as he held it against his lips. “Turn around, kitten.” He gruffed. Hitoshi was helping you maneuver, perching onto the bed himself as he molded the front of himself to your back, his fully hardened cock prodding at your ass cheek leaving a smear of pre along your skin. Kissing along your neck and shoulders, Toshi ran a large hand from your stomach to your thigh, grabbing and propping it against his own leg which he used to open you up. Your breathing was already uneven, knowing what was coming yet not getting to you fast enough, your hips already rocking back into him for stimulation only he could provide. Hitoshi chuckled against your ear, “Does my kitty want it that bad?” He teased, reaching his hand between the two of you to pump his cock in his fist, teasing your already wet entrance. “God, you’re already soaked, baby, fuck.” He gritted out. “Toshi, stop acting like you’re not dying too and make love to me already,” you whined. “You’re always so coc- HAH!!” Your hand flung upward to latch onto the back of Hitoshi’s head which was buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder, biting into the soft skin that lay there as he jutted his hips forward and sheathed into you in one fluid movement. He gave you time to adjust, running his hand up your body, softly squeezing your breasts and lovingly rubbing your belly as he pressed more kisses into your shoulder and neck, sucking hard enough at your pulse point to leave an immediate blooming bruise.

“To- Toshi please. Please, please I need you...” You begged him as he pressed more kisses into your damp hair, his hips starting to move to create that hot friction you both craved. It seemed he was panting like a dog within seconds, thick fingers pinching your nipples as gently as he could, breast milk dribbling down the tips as he rolled them between his tips. “Fuck, kitten!” Toshi was now snapping his hips faster into you, the bed creaking with each brutal thrust. The second the headboard hit the wall for the first time, it acted as fuel for Hitoshi to go even faster. Hips rutting into you from behind so hard it hurt in the best way. He could already feel your gummy walls twitch and clamp down on him, knowing that you were getting closer with each thrust. “Fuck, baby, the way you’re taking me so -shit!- so greedily, so fuckin’ well, you really missed my cock, huh? Answer me!” He almost barked out, feeling you clamp down on him particularly hard when he did. “Fuck your cock, I missed y-you, Hitoshi!” You moaned, your nails digging into his neck. He groaned lowly, breathily whispering out, “Oh my fucking God!” before his hand came down on the swell of your ass, the sharp sting causing you to clamp down on him again a little harder. The slap didn’t pack the usual punch it did with Hitoshi’s heavy hands, but it was enough and you both noticed.

You rolled your hips into him, meeting his thrusts with your own as that wonderful feeling of a taut invisible string began to fray inside your stomach. “So good, so -y-yeah!- s-so fucking good, Toshi I- I, Godfuckinghell!! Ugh, missed you, I missed you, I-“ a broken moan tore from your throat at the feel of Hitoshi rubbing circles against your clit, his thrusts reaching inside you deeper, the prominent vein that ran along his cock sliding against your walls. His breath was coming out in puffs against your neck and cheek, groans and moans sounding out from him just the way you loved. “Mmm, kitty cat, fuck, you’re gonna cum! C’mon now, c’mon, I wanna feel you cream all over this cock, your cock, this cock belongs to you, all yours...” he reached his other hand around, gripping your throat, getting lost in the pleasure as he railed into you, watching your face for any changes in discomfort, keeping mind of the baby. Once your eyebrows slightly furrowed, he loosened his hold, allowing you to catch your breath for a few beats before starting the process again. “Cum, cum because I fucking can’t hold on much longer you’re sucking me in so goddamn good!” Toshi growled in your ear, his hand abandoning your clit for a moment to spit on his fingers just to go back to rubbing it faster than before. As your smaller hand gripped his forearm for dear life, you came undone. “Toshi, fuck!!” Hitoshi felt his thrusting cock get wetter, slipperier, as he slowed his rubbing fingers through your orgasm having released your throat long ago.

Now he began driving into you with reckless abandon, seeking his own release which wasn’t far behind in the first place. The hand that was at your throat now wrapped around your shoulder, while the one that left your clit reached up to grab at your free hand, threading his large fingers through your own. “O-oh my God, oh my God I’m gonna cum, kitten, fuck, I’m gonna cum...” sloppy hips faltered even more before he gave one last strong thrust, stilling inside you spilling his warmth in thick spurts, giving 2 more soft slow thrusts before coming to a stop. The both of you were breathing heavily, Toshi’s head dropped onto your own before he bent down a bit to kiss your shoulder, his stubble scratching at the softness of your cheek. His hair was now dry, being short, it drooped down onto his forehead. There was a fresh sheen of sweat over both of your bodies, especially on his chest and your back. “I love you.” You said, your breaths coming out fast but not as harsh as before. Hitoshi wrapped his arms around you, pressing you into his almost too warm body, nuzzling in your semi damp hair inhaling deeply, “I love you, too. So fucking much, don’t ever forget it. I’m sorry I’ve been away so much, I just...” You shook your head, opening your eyes halfway. “No. I know why you do it. I can’t ever convey how much it means to me that you’re working your ass off for proper time with me and little Anzu once she gets here. Do I miss you? Of course I miss you, I miss you terribly. I also miss working with you. I never realized how spoiled I truly am until it came time for me to stay home from work. Getting to see you every single day, work alongside you, be out in the public eye with you... I never realized that I spend every moment with you. And now that I can’t, it has me a bit out of sorts I guess you could say.” You confessed, your eyes heavily lidded with sleepiness, voice soft and gentle.

The bed suddenly shifted, Hitoshi launching himself over your body and plopping next to you to face you causing you to squeak out in shock. He cupped your cheeks and brought you in for a slow, passionate kiss. Your smaller hands planted against his chest, fingers rubbing lovingly before scooting closer to him where he wrapped his arms around you instinctively. “I’m almost done, sweetheart. Just one more week, maybe even sooner if Anzu comes before then. And hey, if you want, I can help you train up again my agile, telekinetic kitten. Would you like that?” He asked into your hair at the top of your head. You hummed softly and he looked down having felt your hand slip off his chest and go limp, joining your other arm pressed against him and the bed. You were fast asleep, your breathing slow and deep as Toshi took a moment to look at you, large hand caressing from your head to your shoulder, only to glide down your back where he grabbed the blanket and draped it over the both of you, snuggling your body closer to his. “And I thought I was the one who got into people’s minds. I don’t deserve you, baby girl.” He whispered in your ear, kissing the side of your mouth before perching his head atop yours and falling asleep just as quick. You woke with a start, small hand darting out to feel for your husband only to feel his hand grasp yours and pull it to his lips, “I’m here, baby. I’m still here.” Hitoshi said as he cradled it in his own, pressed against his chest, a small smile gracing your lips before slipping back into the warmth of his embrace.

#my hero academia smut #boku no hero academia smut #my hero academia #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinso #shinso hitoshi #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou #pro hero shinsou #fyeahbnha #boku no hero x you #hitoshi shinsou x you #hitoshi shinsou x reader #i’m back on my shinsou shit

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kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Outro: Love is Not Over (7)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Family issues, mentions of adoption, mentions of abandonment, mentions of anger issues, some nasty words are said, self-doubt, I think that’s it (?)

Word Count: 1.8k

Note: Ah, I’m sorry for the angst. But it’ll get better! Soon :(

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

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“W-What? Baby no...”

Tears started falling from Yunho’s eyes as he held on tight to his stuffed animal and buried his face into my chest. I held him close and put my hand on his back, gently rocking him back and forth. “Baby, why’d you ask that?” I whispered to him.

Yunho took in deep, shaky breaths as he tried to calm himself the way I taught him. “I-I was at school... a-and that boy asked me...” He hiccupped, I continued to rock him back and forth, petting his hair just the way he likes it. “Hey, baby, it’s okay,” I kissed the top of his forehead and hugged him tighter.

But Yunho just cried harder, holding onto me as tight as he could. “H-He said that... Y-You can’t be my Eomma c-cause y-you... You don’t have ears... Or a tail...” His words made my heart squeeze. It hurt. It hurt to hear those words come from Yunho.

It’s not that I never expect these things to come up. We talked about it regularly, the two of us. Yunho knows I’m human. Yunho knows he didn’t get his hybrid features from me. Yunho knows he... had a father. He doesn’t ask about him. Whether that be because he doesn’t care or it confuses him to know that he had a father, but not anymore... I wouldn’t know.

However, just because I knew this would happen, didn’t mean my heart hurt any less. “Oh bub, I may not be a hybrid, but I’m still your Eomma,” I whispered to him. Yunho nodded into my chest, sniffling. “And you can tell Eomma anything, okay?” I said, pulling him back so he could look at me.

Yunho’s lip wobbled as he whispered, “Anything?” I nodded, smoothing down his frizzed hair, “Anything,” Yunho looked away from me before he whimpered, “When I said that you were my real Eomma... He didn’t believe me and asked if my Appa was human too...” His voice started to crack and new tears pricked the corner of his eyes, “When I said I-I don’t h-have an Appa... He asked why... But I don’t know why Eomma...” Yunho sobbed, coughing as he attempted to choke down his cries. “Why don’t I have an Appa, Eomma?”

I bitterly held back the tears that threatened to spill out of my eyes. This was about Yunho, not me. Even though I wanted to hold Yunho tight to my chest and sob with him, I couldn’t. Even if I wanted to whisper to him that I didn’t know, and that I was sorry, I had to pull myself together by the thin threads I’ve been using to sew myself up for years.

Yunho continued to sob as I wracked my brain for an answer. How was I supposed to tell my son that his glorified sperm donor wanted nothing to do with him? I can’t. “Hey, baby, look at me,” I cooed, cupping Yunho’s wet face and turning it towards mine. “Baby, remember what Eomma taught you? Deep breaths, okay? Eomma’s here, you’re okay,” I whispered to him as Yunho tried his best to take deep breaths.

We both sat there for 5 minutes, taking deep breaths together as we listened to the crickets play their harmony outside. “It’s okay, baby,” I whispered to him as his breathing steadily calmed down. “Some families, like us, only have Eommas. Some only have Appas. But we’re still a family, bub,” I explained, desperately trying to avoid the topic.

Luckily, it worked. Yunho nodded in understanding and held me tight, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck. “I love you Eomma,” Yunho whispered to me, and I felt tears prick up in my eyes again. “I love you too, bub,” I whispered back, desperately blinking back my tears.

“Why don’t I have an Appa, Eomma?”

Those words will forever haunt me, and I knew it. If only I could give Yunho the perfect family. A father that could love him and guide him in ways I couldn’t. A father that could teach him how to lift his other ear. He’s been working so hard on it. A father that could teach him what being a hybrid should mean to him. I couldn’t do that. But god I wish I could.

Why couldn’t you be a good person, Chul?

It was a rainy day. A thunderstorm was rolling through town, making the small apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Chul, frigid. The chill air was wafting through the broken window in our living room. The cracked glass a grim reminder of the anger issues that plagued Chul.

I could still hear the yelling in my ears, even if it was 2 days ago. I could see why he got upset, it was a bad day at work, we all had those days. But he didn’t have to take it out on the window. Now you were stressed with calling maintenance to explain that Chul had, yet again, damaged something in the apartment during a fit of rage.

I sighed, wrapping the blanket around my feverish body tighter. I wasn’t feeling too good this morning. When I woke up, I felt nauseous and light-headed. I could barely pull myself out of bed, but I persevered and got up anyway. I didn’t want to hear from Chul that I was being lazy. I already felt like shit, I didn’t need his accusations making it even worse.

Arguments seem to be the only words we exchange with each other nowadays.

But it was just getting worse, and I didn’t know what to do. I rashly decided to pick up my phone and call Yoongi. He was smart, he’d know what to do. After a couple rings, Yoongi finally picked up with his same dull tone.

“Sup buttercup?” He asked.

“Yoongs... I’m not feeling so well this morning...” I groaned, swallowing down the sickening lump in my throat.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, a little more animation in his voice than before.

“I just feel sick... and hot...” I complained, sinking into the couch.

“Sick in the sniffles way or puke way?”

“Puke way,”

“Damn, did you eat anything funny?” I could hear the worry in Yoongi’s voice as he asked his question.

“No, nothing like that,”

“I’ll send Hyejin over to watch you, okay? I call you after I’m done with work,”

“Okay, thanks Yoongs,” I slurred, feeling exhausted suddenly.

“It’s nothing, feel better soon, yeah?”

Soon, Hyejin arrived with a bag full of medicine and my favorite snacks. “I heard your not feeling your best,” Hyejin gave me a sympathetic smile as she placed her hand on my forehead. “You’re quite warm, but you’re not burning up, which is good,” She hummed, setting down the bag on the coffee table and sitting across from me on the couch.

Hyejin continued to ask me questions about what I ate, what I did, if anyone I was around was sick. I answered no to every question. Explaining that I felt heavily nauseous this morning, but it got better throughout the day. Now I was just squeamish and warm.

“Alright, you don’t have a cough, or a stuffed nose. You don’t have the symptoms of anything, really. And if you didn’t eat anything weird, then it can’t be food poisoning.” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Ya know, it was kinda like me when I first got pregnant-” Her eyes suddenly widened in realization as she looked at me.

“W-What...?” I asked nervously.

“No no no no. This cannot be happening. Hyejin, this can’t be happening!” I sobbed as I threw the positive pregnancy test across the bathroom and collapsed on the tile floor. Hyejin quickly knelt down beside me and held me in her arms. “Hey, Y/n it’s okay. It’ll be okay,” She said, holding me tight. “No! You don’t understand! Chul will kill me!” I cried, laying my head on her shoulder.

“Y/n it is not your fault you’re pregnant. Birth control never prevents these things 100%. You’re just... One of the odd ones out,” She soothed, her soft tail wrapping around my shaking form. “What do I do?” I whispered, holding Hyejin close to me.

“It’s entirely your choice. But whatever you decide, Yoongi and I will be there for you no matter what,” Hyejin promised.

“I have to tell Chul...” I whimpered out, feeling the chilling claws of fear wrap their arms around my throat. “God, I have to tell Chul...”

“When is he coming home?” Hyejin asked.

“Soon... He said he should be home around 3pm,” I explained, standing up on my shaky legs.

Hyejin stood up next to me and grabbed the pregnancy test I threw, ushering me out of the bathroom and back on the couch. “When he gets home, we’ll explain what's happening, and work through it okay?” Hyejin explained, taking my hand in hers. I nodded, too choked up to speak. “Y/n,” Hyejin called, getting me to look at her, “Whatever happens, you always have Yoongi and I, okay?”

And with what little hope I had, we did tell Chul.

But I’ll never forget the words we exchanged.

The argument we had.

“Whatever. I want nothing to do with you or that thing growing inside you.”

Yunho I wish I could tell you that your father was a good person, and that he loved you. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth...

After Yunho and I had our moment, he refused to go to sleep. He was stuck to my side like glue. “Eomma, don’t go,” He said when I tried to tuck him in for the night. And I didn’t. I knew that sometimes the last thing a person needed was to be left alone. Yunho needed someone to ground him, and I was more than happy to be that someone. Even if I, myself, was crumbling.

So now the two of us were sitting on the living room couch watching late night re-runs of old cartoons that I remember watching when I was 10. We just cuddled in silence. Yunho snuggled into my side while I wrapped around his tiny frame. Suddenly my phone rang, Hoseok’s face popping up on the screen.

I starred at the faltering picture of the man that lit up the screen. He was occupied with reading a book to the children he was teaching that day. Hyejin sent me the picture. Saying that he was “father material”

“Hello?” I answered, putting the phone up to my ear. Not wanting to think about Hoseok’s “father material” any longer. “Hey Y/n, are you two okay? You seemed pretty worried when you had to leave,” Hoseok asked. I cringed, feeling bad about having to leave him all alone. I made a note to make it up to him when I felt better.

“Um... Yeah.. Yeah, we’re okay just- Family... Issues... Yunho’s a bit upset,” I explained, holding Yunho just a little bit tighter. “Oh no. Is there anything I can do?” He asked, worry laced in his voice. I chuckled, finding his worry for us cute. “I don’t think so, Hoseok... “ I sighed. “Wait! I know! I have ice cream. I can come over and we can chow down. What do you say?” Hoseok offered, and I could almost see the cute smirk that was most likely plastering his face.

“Sure, why not?”

#bts #bts fic #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hobi #bts hybrid au

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hoodedguitarist · 3 years

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Think you can Hide from Me? Part 2

Gif is not mine!

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader

Summary: You’ve infiltrated into Jabba’s palace with Lando in order to rescue Han. Even though you hated being here, you were safely undercover as just another random piece of scum and villainy in the underworld… Or so you thought.

Warnings: 18+, slight knife play, choking, dom/sub, teasing, all that good stuff, one slight smidge of fluff to pull at the heartstrings at the end there.

Author’s Notes: It’s weird when other ideas grow off of a main one. But yeah, I love Boba Fett. A distraction to keep the plan safe and undercover, of course.;)

Part 1: The Infiltrator

Part 3: The Regret

Part 4: The Reunion

PART 2: The Distraction

The room was small but you were both away from prying eyes and criminals. You suddenly found yourself hoping Lando wasn’t looking for you. This distraction may be hard to explain later…

You thought getting his armor off would be the hard part, but he took care of it, his deft hands quickly removing everything that needed to be removed until he was only left in the clothing. Your eyes climbed hungrily along him as he did so, heart racing and muscles lightly quivering in anticipation. You weren’t going to try and help because you didn’t want to get in the way. He obviously knew what he was doing, and it made you wonder how many times he’d had romps like this, or if you just happened to be a special case, but your thoughts were cut off when Boba had you against the wall again.

“Take it off,” he demanded. “I know you have weapons, I want them gone as well.”

“Scared of a little knife, Fett?” You taunted. Sure, you’d been taught not to play with fire, but when it looked as good as him you just couldn’t resist.

“Are you, (L/N)?” He growled, his knife right back at your throat. Your head leaned back against the wall and a smirk was on your lips. His knife trailed gently down the center of your chest and your breath hitched in your throat.

“Not with you using it like that,” you breathed shakily, “but I’ll do as you say. I’d rather you not ruin my clothes. I’ll need them after.”

“That’s a shame,” Boba tilted his head, his eyes dragging down your form. He sheathed his knife and both of his hands were suddenly on your hips, gripping you hard. “I may want to keep you around for a while yet. It gets lonely between jobs, and you seem so eager for me…” He gripped roughly at your chin and leaned in closer.

“I didn’t take you as the sentimental relationship type,” you sassed back.

“I’m not,” Boba’s voice darkened and his bare thumb brushed across your bottom lip. “I’m the type that fucks you until you can’t walk. You’ll be screaming my name and begging me to do it again. Now take it off, or I’ll cut it off and leave you with no option but to stay.”

You licked your lips and swallowed the smartassed remark on the tip of your tongue. As excited as his words were making you, you couldn’t afford to stay here for that long. Just one good romp, one good fuck just to say you did him, and then you could get back to the task.

Slowly, you reached up and pulled the long, black, nearly thread-bear hoodie off of yourself and dropped it to the side. Your weapons belt was revealed, complete with your blaster, a knife, and two thermal detonators. Boba watched you as you carefully unbuckled it and laid it down on the ground, on top of your hoodie.

“You’re moving rather slow… Having second thoughts?”

“No, I-” but you were cut off as you were pressed hard against the wall, your breath taken away by another demanding kiss from him. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back breathlessly.

“A ‘no’ was all I needed,” he breathed against your lips, and you could only nod, seeing as how you were a bit dazed by him. Your fingers were in his hair and you yanked him back into another hot kiss. Boba’s hands were all over you, pulling at your clothes and running roughly along your curves. His hands slid under your shirt and you could feel how rough they were, but it only turned you on more, made a fire break out across your skin.

In an instant, the shirt was off and tossed somewhere. His dark eyes were trailing over your exposed skin, your bare breasts.

“Oh, sweet girl, where have you been hiding, hm?” His voice was low, gravely, charged with arousal.

“Not from you, I promise,” you breathed. His hands slid up your ribs and kneaded at your breasts, and your back arched as you let out a soft moan. Boba’s hot mouth was on your neck, then, leaving bite laced kisses as his mouth went lower. Suddenly, he grabbed your ass and hoisted you up into his arms and shoved you against the wall again. You were effectively stuck there now, and he was at a better angle to get his mouth on your breasts.

Another needy moan slipped your lips as you clung to his shoulders. He sucked at the sensitive skin, his tongue sliding over a soft bud before giving a small bite. Your hands were in his hair and clinging to him was all you could really do at the moment while he paid attention to your breasts. Your legs were wrapped around him and pleasure twisted in your stomach and pooled between your legs.

“Boba,” his name came out of your mouth in a desperate whine. “Boba, please… Take everything off, please,” you begged him. You could practically feel his smirk against your sensitive skin. He flicked his tongue at you one more time before he let you back down gently.

“I didn’t expect you to beg for me. Especially from you, (Y/N). That’s what I like to hear,” he tilted your chin up and hovered his lips over yours. Your hands still gripped at the fabric of his clothing and you leaned up to meet his parted lips but he pulled back, a dark chuckle slipping his lips. It only made you ache for him more, but it surprised you when he stepped back. You could clearly see how tight his pants had gotten, so what was he doing? “Take the rest off, and sit on my lap.”

You didn’t respond immediately, because you watched him pull his shirt off over his head.

Fuck why did I not do this with him sooner, you thought. Getting an eyeful of his muscled back, those arms, scars, his tan skin, that ass. You found yourself regretting having waited so long.

“Well?” He looked back at you, but a wicked smirk spread across his lips. “See something you like, princess?”

“Everything,” you breathed, unable to catch yourself right away. You blinked and blushed a little, biting your lip. “Don’t call me princess.”

“Well, I think I’m more inclined to now,” he reached down and began to take off his pants. “You can keep watching, or you can come join me. Either way, I’m getting off. The question is, do you want to as well? I promise it will be much more fun if you come join me,” and just like that, he pushed everything off and he was standing bare before you now. You felt another ache of pleasure streak through you and damn that ass…

“I’ll join you,” you answered. “It’s the whole reason I’m here isn’t it?” You watched him walk over and sit down at the edge of the small bed and when you got a glimpse, you suddenly found yourself hoping you could take it.

You regained yourself and began to take your pants and boots off. It didn’t take long until you were completely bare as well, and he’d been watching you the whole time. Maybe you could play this to your advantage, play with fire again. The burn always felt so good.

You licked your lips and walked over to him, curling a strand of your (h/c) hair behind your ear. You intentionally swayed your hips as you sauntered up to him and you noticed that predatory look about him, every muscle in his body tense as if he were ready to pounce. You stood before him, running a hand through your hair and down along your breasts, groping yourself lightly and trying to entice him, and it seemed to be working. You took it a step further and placed your hands on his knees, letting them slide up along his thighs as you leaned in to him. You parted your lips for a kiss, and just as his were about to meet yours, you smirked and pulled back and let your hands slide back along his knees.

“Oh no you don’t, sweetheart,” his hand shot forward and grabbed your wrist, then yanked you forwards. His hands slid around and grabbed your ass and pulled you down into his lap. His skin was hot against yours and chills broke out along your body. “You like to be a tease, huh?” He never broke his gaze from yours. “I think I may need to fuck that out of you.”

“You can try,” you grinned, sliding your hands down his chest and stomach, groping at his muscles as you went along until you found your prize. You leaned down and bit at his neck as you began pumping his length, stroking slow and hard. Boba moaned, which made you eager for more, but that moan soon turned into a growl and your wrists were back in his tight grip. You pouted. “What?”

He leaned forward and took your bottom lip between his teeth, gently at first, but then his tongue flicked out and he kissed you deeply, distracting you from any and all teasing. A weak, long moan rumbled from you and your hands were at his back, dragging your nails down.

One rough hand grabbed at your thigh, hard enough to leave marks, while his other hand palmed right between your legs. You couldn’t stop yourself from rutting against him, and he smirked and began to rub his fingers against that sensitive bundle of nerves. You broke the kiss and your grip on him tightened, a weak moan leaving you.

“You’re so wet for me (Y/N). How long have you wanted me to fuck you,” his question came as more of a command.

“Since I-I… Since I first saw you,” you barely managed to speak. “I wanted you when I saw you,” a desperation was in your voice like never before, and Boba was pleased. He slid two fingers into you easily, and you bucked against them a little harder. “Boba…” You whined for him and his lips began to trail up your neck.

“If you want my cock you’ll have to beg for it, sweet girl,” he bit your ear gently before surprising you with another finger. It made you gasp and moan loudly, your body tensing and your thighs quivering.

“Fuck, Boba, please,” your voice was shaky. “Fuck me, I want you to fuck me. I need to feel you inside me.” You leaned back and rested your forehead against his. “Please…” you brushed your lips against his as you begged for him shamelessly.

“You’re such a good girl, (Y/N). You’ve only begged like this for me, haven’t you?”

“Yes, yes only you. I swear it,” you promised. It was true. No one else had ever made you feel like this, or ever made you want to be so submissive.

You gasped in surprise when he wrapped his arms around you and laid you back against the bed. When the surprise wore off, you ran your hands along his muscled arms and down his chest, spreading your legs for him.

“That’s right, spread those legs for me sweetheart.”

He adjusted himself and your muscles tensed when his tip was at your entrance. He slid his hands along your body, kneading your breasts again before sliding up your arms. He pinned your wrists above your head.

“Take me, Boba… Fuck me, hard. Don’t hold back.”

“As you wish, (Y/N),” and with that, he pushed himself in. A loud moan was forced past your lips and your back arched slowly. He took it surprisingly easy on you, going a bit more careful to make sure you could take it all. You were stretched, that much was certain, but you were loving how he filled you up. “Damn, (Y/N), should have come to me sooner…”

“I know,” your voice was breathless. “Please, Boba,” you didn’t mind being such a slut for him. He leaned down, his body heavy on top of yours, his mouth wet and smooth on your neck, and he bucked into you and started at a rough pace already. His hands still held your wrists tightly as he picked up his pace, moving into you hard and rough and doing everything right.

“Say my name. Scream for me, princess,” he commanded.

“Yes!” Your fists were balled up, knuckles white. Your eyes fluttered shut and you just laid back and let him take you like that. It was exactly what you wanted. He felt so damn good, his bites and kisses, the way his hips rocked into yours. The only sounds in the room were your combined breaths and moans, and the sound of skin against skin. “Boba… Damn, Boba I’m close!” You tried to warn him.

“Come on,” he growled in your ear. “That’s it, (Y/N), cum for me.”

“Boba… Boba!” Your orgasm had you in a vice grip, your muscles tense and you screamed his name. Your head tossed back, eyes shut tight, body arched perfectly and pressed flush against his.

Boba let your wrists go in favor of gripping your hips and he growled as he continuously pounded into you, loving that tight feeling. It didn’t take long for his orgasm to follow and the both of you were covered in sweat, breathing hard and completely satisfied.

He laid on top of you for a moment, and you slid your arms around him and rubbed your hands softly against his back where you’d scratched him earlier. Slowly, he pushed himself up to look down at you.

“So? Was that everything you wanted?”

“And much more. Fuck, you have no idea. Damn…”

It made his pride swell, you could practically see it.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime,” Boba said as he carefully pulled out of you. You both groaned faintly and you laid there for a second before shakily pushing yourself up to a sitting position.

“You don’t have to hold me here. Just say my name, trust me I’ll come running,” you smirked and winked at him. He smirked at you.

“I’ll remember that,” he moved over to get himself dressed again. “And…” he paused a moment and looked at you. “I’ll try to get you some work.”

You blinked and drew back a bit, mildly surprised. Damn, he’d fallen for that trick and he was willing to help?

“Wow… I, um… Thank you, Boba, really. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. So long as you pay me back,” he let his eyes climb down you again as he said that, and you smirked.

“Always.”

Well, hopefully this distraction had paid off in more ways than one. Part of you felt kind of bad for lying to him, but touched that he was willing to help. You probably needed to get back to the main room… But this was going to be a hell of a story, and you were going to do your best to make sure none of your friends shot him.

Hopefully hate sex would be somewhere in the future once he figured out you were only there to rescue Han. All you could do was hope for the best.

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handsomeamoeba · 3 years

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Pokemon That Look Like Perverts

Here’s a post I’ve wanted to make for a long time. Actually I originally wanted to do it as a Twitter thread, but never got around to it. In part because I hate that blue website even worse than this blue website. But I have strong opinions about this. This isn’t about what Pokemon I like or don’t like, or which designs I think are good are not. It’s just about which Pokemon are, at the end of the day, into some creepy shit probably. I’ve tried to be as objective as I can but of course, true objectivity is impossible. First, some ground rules:

1) Though there is some overlap, being furry bait does not a pervert make. It’s not Lopunny’s fault she looks like that and people are weird about it.

2) I do not accept criticism.

That being said, here’s the list:

Gloom Looks like a Redditor. At least he grows out of it.

Machoke His name has “choke” in it and he is in prime thrusting position. You could make an argument about Machamp too but I’ll believe Machamp is a hard-working himbo over this motherfucker.

Cloyster You ever heard of the movie “Teeth”?

Drowzee & Hypno I mean Hypno is WAY worse but they’re both definitely Up To Something and I do not trust them.

Lickitung I shouldn’t have to explain this.

I know you’re expecting Mr. Mime but no. Mr. Mime is creepy, but not a pervert. Don’t come at me about how Mr. Mime canonically fucks, I don’t want to hear it! I’m not here to kinkshame Ash’s mom! However, I’ll be checking back in with you later.

Jynx Now Jynx on the other hand absolutely is a pervert. And racist.

Magmar This one pains me because I had a shiny Magmar in my first playthrough of Crystal, but he has an ass on his face, he’s leering at you, and his original name is “Boober.”

Miltank Now I know what you’re thinking. “Why Miltank? Like she’s annoying to fight but she’s just a cow!” She also drinks her own milk right in front of you. Think about it.

Slaking He’s grabbing his right tit and leering at you while doing the full Jeff Goldblum sidelean. Of course he’s a pervert.

Ambipom Now I didn't put Aipom on the list but something about Ambipom makes me uncomfortable but I can't quite put my finger on it. Ambipom could, though. And would.

Toxicroak I don’t have an argument for this but look at it.

I’m actually not going to put Lickitung’s evolution Lickilicky on here. Yeah I know it’s twice the licking but like look at him. He looks like a big doofus doing the world’s largest blep. Lickitung looks like he’s going to lick my ear on a crowded subway.

Timburr, Gurdurr, Conkeldurr Oh god oh christ they’re so veiny. Stop looking at me.

Scraggy & Scrafty The only Pokemon expressly designed to be ready to flash you.

Cofagrigus Keep your hands to yourself.

Greninja Jesus H. Mackenzie Christ

Diggersby While I will lay down my life in Lopunny’s defense, Diggersby on the other hand looks like he’d wolf whistle at me while passing a construction site. “Jack why haven’t you put Inceneroar when you put Machoke on here?” Because he’s not conspicuously wearing underpants despite being a battle pet. And because he’s my best friend, shut up!!!

Salazzle I love the BDSM lizard as much as the next person but look at her? Look at her. Yeah I said “it’s not enough to be furry bait” but this magnificent bitch is not an innocent bystander.

Guzzlord Almost all of the Ultra Beasts could potentially qualify for the list but I just want to highlight Vore Incarnate here.

Inteleon This lizard is an incel. What happened to our sweet boy Sobble? Where did we go wrong as parents?

Cramorant CRAMORANT IS THE ONLY POKEMON THAT CANONICALLY VORES ANOTHER POKEMON.

Grimmsnarl Grimmsnarl is the Pokemon that inspired me to make this list. I watched my Morgrem ascend into this hair-covered creep in horror. I said, out loud, “oh no, he looks like a pervert” and I knew what dark work lay ahead of me.

Obstagoon Look this guy's based on the guys from KISS and I know all those old bastards are perverts.

Mr. Rime Remember when I said Mr. Mime isn’t a pervert but I’ll get back to you? Anyway, that’s my list. Again I accept no criticism but I may adjust this later. Thank you.

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mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

Can you do Daichi x male reader where Daichi asks his boyfriend to come over to meet his team and he forgets and goes home so Daichi give him a call and is like "where you at?" "I cant come I look like a clown." "I bet you dont look that bad." "No you dont get it im in full drag." So his boyfriend comes to the gym in full drag, booby and butt pads, and monster heels, and when he walked in it's like Kags that recognizes him as his drag name.

LMAOOJSKE DRAG QUEEN READEKRNRNF

——————

Daichi x reader - DRAG QUEEN?!

⚠️warnings - drag queen, college first year reader x high school 3rd year (if that’s even a warning skdjd)

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

Daichi said it on impulse, really.

“Do you guys...wanna meet my boyfriend?”

Everyone in the gym stopped. They were in middle of a practice match between themselves, and just when Yamaguchi was about to serve, he choked on air and missed the ball completely. The ball flew in the air, before landing somewhere near his feet.

Everyone stared at Daichi with a variety of expressions. Some shocked, some looking at him like he ‘said I’m gonna chop my dick off,’ and some who didn’t even care. (Tsukishima, obviously.) Ukai had to call timeout, since no one could focus after what Daichi blurted out.

Suga chuckled awkwardly, slinging a towel over his shoulders. “So uh, ahaha, your um...gay...?” His voice progressively died down into a whisper.

“Yeah. Is...that’s a problem?”

“No! No! I fully support y-“

“AND YOU CHOSE NOW TO TELL US? DUDE, WE COULD’VE LIKE, THROWN YOU A COMING-OUT PARTY!” Tanaka shook his captaincy the shoulders, while Noya squirted water into his mouth with his squeeze bottle.

“Well I don’t really mind, I’m already out, I was just asking if you wanted to meet him.”

“DO WE?! OF COURSE WE DO! DOES HE PLAY VOLLEYBALL?! DO YOU THINK HE COULD JOIN THE TEAM?!” Hinata jumped up and down, slowly inching is way towards Daichi with an awestruck look on his face. He’s rather surprised Hinata isn’t more shocked.

“Yeah. Uh-no, sorry. He doesn’t play.” Daichi chuckled, patting an excited looking hinata on the head. “I don’t think he has work tomorrow, so tomorrow’s really the only time he can come to practice.”

“Work?” Asahi looked up from the towel he was using to wipe off his sweat. “How old is he? Is he a third year?”

“He’s a first year in college. Actually-I think he goes to the college in Sendai.”

Asahi exhaled. It would’ve been weird if someone as young as a highschooler were to already be working, when the could be enjoying their time in classes or clubs. “Where does he work?”

Flashbacks of all the drag shows and money being thrown around a stage whipped across Daichis mind like a slap to the face. He’s sure the team wouldn’t mind, especially because they already don’t mind him having a boyfriend, but he isn’t sure if (Y/n) was ok with him telling his team he was a...y’know.

“...I’m not sure?”

————

“Oh-hello Daikkun! How was practice today?” (Y/n) opened the passenger seat to his door, waiting for him to step inside. Sometimes he liked to pick him up from school before he had to get in makeup for a night show. That didn’t stop him from doing a little bit of eyeliner, though.

“It was nice. I told them they could meet you soon. The team.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, you don’t have any shows tomorrow, right? I kind of told them tomorrow.” Daichi scrubbed at the back of his neck, while (y/n) started up his car. “I know you’ve wanted to meet them.”

“You bet your ass! Well-I mean I have a show at like 2 am but that doesn’t matter. What time can I come? Are they nice? Didn’t you say there was one who was really short but could jump as high as me in stilettos?”

“Oi-! Focus on the road!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just excited. Anyways! Can you come to my show tonight? I’ll sneak you in.”

“Every time I go to one of your drag shows I get scared someone will kick me out since I’m 17.”

“Dude, have you seen yourself?!” (Y/n) gestures over to Daichi, putting emphasis on his thigh-region. “You’re big and muscly enough to at least pass as 18. It’s just a one year difference, when’s your birthday again?”

“I can’t believe you forgot, I’m hurt.” Daichi chuckled, fiddling with his backpack straps on his lap. “Besides, doesn’t your show run kind of late today? I don’t get to choose when to take my classes like you, (L/n). And I have morning practice, so I need to sleep.”

“You’re no fun, Daikkun.”

“Yeah, yeah, My house is over there.”

————

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone for the nth time that day. Fanning himself dramatically, he huffed and buried his face into his pillow. There was nothing to do today, and since he took morning classes, that left him with the rest of the afternoon to ponder, before working at night.

Was there something to do today? Was he forgetting something? He felt like he was, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He glanced guilty at a tube of light pink lip gloss tossed haphazardly on his desk. A light bulb went off in his head.

Hastily throwing his covers off his body, (y/n) dragged himself over to his closet, grabbing the lip gloss in the process. He shuffled through hangers of clothes, finally pulling out a girls uniform he bought from when he was in high school. He never wore it to school, choosing to wear the boys uniform, but he thought it’d be nice to have when he was feeling fruity.

Slipping on the skirt and cardigan, he walked over to his desk mirror. He unscrewed the wand from the tube of lip gloss, tentatively applying it generously to his lips. He shrugged. He figured he could do some more makeup. It’s not like he’s busy today, right?

Carefully winging the tip of his eyeliner, he took a step back and admired himself in the mirror. He looked cute, yeah, but cute wasn’t really his style. It screamed ‘cute femboy’ rather than his usual ‘sexy ass drag queen dominatrix who could step on you with their sharp ass knife heels’

Damn. He was really about to go all out, huh? Time to bring out the butt pads and fake boobs.

————

Sighing contently in front of the mirror, (y/n) did a little spin, puffing out the length of his dress. Damn, he was hot. And with his impossibly high monster heels? Take me now.

(Y/n) was in the midst of taking a couple cute selfies in front of his full length mirror, when his screen went grey and a caller ID appeared.

‘Incoming call - Daikkun!! <3’

(Y/n) smiled unconsciously and clicked the bright green button with his thumb. He brought his phone to his ear and twirled a piece of his faux wig with his finger.

“Hi Daikkun! Did you need something, cutie?”

“Are you still coming over?” Daichis voice was hushed, and the slam of volleyballs rang though his speaker.

“Uh-what for?”

“To meet my team? Where are you?”

Fuck.

(Y/n) paled as he eyed himself in the mirror. He couldn’t show up looking like that. And it was too much to take off before Daichis practice ended. This was the only time he had to meet this team Daichi had always been talking about, and he’d completely forgot.

“...I can’t, I look like a clown.” (Y/n’s) voice came out a hoarse, nervous-chuckly whisper. He could taste the expensive red lipstick sitting on his lips.

“I’m sure you don’t look that bad.”

“Dude no, you don’t understand.” (Y/n) picked at the hem of his dress, the silicone boobs suddenly squeezing his chest a bit too tightly. “I’m in full drag.”

A silence rang out from both sides of the line. Daichi awkwardly chuckled.

“Ahaha uh-didn’t you say you didn’t have work today?”

“No! No I-I don’t have work til like-later later but like-I got bored and I forgot I was gonna meet your team today...sorry-“

“Well I’m sure they won’t mind if you show up in drag. I mean-they seemed pretty ok with knowing we’re a thing so...?”

(Y/n) gulped.

“...I guess I’ll see you in ten minutes then.”

—————

“Good work everyone!”

Ukai dismissed the players, leaving them to start rolling up the net and cleaning up the gym. Sugawara jogged up to the captain, dragging his mop lazily behind him.

“You said your boyfriend was gonna come today, right? Where is he?”

“Uh,” Daichi checked his wrist, before realizing he didn’t have a watch and fished out his phone. “He should be here any minute now-“

Just in time, the doors to the gym creaked open. Daichi smiled, leaving Suga to trail behind him curiously. He reached for the door handle, giving it a firm pull.

In stepped a boy with a long synthetic wig on, and heels that made him tower over Daichi easily. The sharp platforms of his heels clicked with each step he took, jewelry and accessories also bobbing up and down. And not to mention the ‘bobbling’ the silicone boobs made. Jeez, even if they were fake, they did still jiggle a hell of a lot.

(Y/n) bent down daintily, pressing a kiss onto Daichi’s cheek. Lipstick smeared on his sweaty cheek, leaving a dark imprint on the side of his face. (Y/n) seemed to finally take notice of all the astonished stares directed at him.

Should he A, stand beside his boyfriend awkwardly and pick at the loose thread of his dress or B, put on his confident drag persona and play it off?

He chose B.

(Y/n) smirked and leaned on on of his feet, placing a hand on his hip. “What? Like what you see, boys? I’m afraid I’m already taken, though.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Fuck. Even with the confident display, (y/n) couldn’t help but stay somewhat behind Daichi, trying to shrink behind his 10 inch heels.

Immediately, a bald guy and a kid with a bleached strip on the front of his head erupted into excitement.

“Yo! Sick dress, dude!”

The atmosphere lightened up tremendously. (Y/n) let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Well thank you, Mr. Bleach strip.”

The bald one, who introduced himself as ‘Tanaka’, slapped Daichi on the back. “Dude! What’s with all the surprises?! You tell us you have a boyfriend but you didn’t tell us he was a drag queen?!”

“I-to be honest I didn’t know he was in drag today-I didn’t know he had work.”

The closet door opened, with Hinata and Kageyama walking out from placing the net inside. Hinata gasped excitedly, while Kageyama froze. Hinata practically bolted towards the unknown person wearing heels and jumped up to his height. (Y/n) choked on air. This kid practically flew at him.

“Wow! Are you one of those ‘drag queens’ I see on tv sometimes?! Cool! That’s so cool! I-“

“ARE YOU QUIMCHI?!”

Hinatas throat closed up, along with (y/n) after hearing his stage name being called out so...dramatically. The boy continued.

“...F-FROM THAT ONE INTERVIEW THEY DID ON THAT ONE CLUB ON THE LATE NIGHT SHOW WITH SHIN’ICHI HATORI?!”

Kageyamas booming voice rang through the gym as he pointed at (y/n) with wide eyes. Everyone’s gaze went from (y/n) to Kageyama, who was frozen in place. Even (y/n) was a tad bit confused.

The club he worked at recently had a special done on TV, and (y/n) was only in the background. He didn’t know how this...boy recognized him from that, or why he was even watching the drag special on that show in the first place.

“...yeah...yeah I am,” (y/n) smiled awkwardly and a boy with blond hair and glasses chuckled from somewhere in the gym.

The boy, with another guy with dark-green hair, walked out from the storage closet aswell. “Who knew the king was into that kind of stuff? Drag queens? No disrespect, ma’am-sir.”

Kageyama seemed to unfreeze just to glare at Tsukishima with a flushed face. “I-IM NOT! MY STUPID SISTERS JUST A BIG FAN, IS ALL!“

Kageyama turned to (y/n), and marched scarily fast towards him. He stopped abruptly and bowed his head so far it made (y/n) take a step back.

“M-MAY I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH FOR MY SISTER?! AN-AND MAYBE A PHOTO TOO?!” Kageyama stiffly held his arms to his sides as he kept his head down. Small chuckles and snorts sounded from all around the gym, (y/n) even joining in and patting the black haired boys head.

“Sure thing, doll.”

————

“Your team was nicer than I thought.”

Daichi looked up questionably, fastening his seatbelt. (Y/n) started up his car. “What do you mean, nicer?”

“Well-I thought they were gonna be a bunch of meatheads banging their heads together. They’re actually more interesting than I thought they were going to be. Especially that Kageyama guy.”

Daichi smiled contently. “I’m glad you like them, then.”

A comfortable silence breezed by them, the only sounds audible being the hum of the car engine and the soft tapping of Daichis nails against the armrest. Daichi stole a glance at (y/n). His wig was discarded, placed neatly on the backseat with the wig cap and hairpins resting underneath it, and his hair was slightly damp and messy due to being constricted. His lipstick was a bit smeared from when he kissed him on the cheek, and droplets of sweat gathered near his hairline.

Daichi set his fingers lightly on the spot where the lipstick mark sat, caressing it softly so the lipstick wouldn’t smear more that it already has. He exhaled softly and shifted his gaze back down. He wouldn’t mind if he came to his practice again.

“...so wanna come to my show tonight, Daikkun?”

“It’s at 2am, no.”

—————

Extra:

Kageyama: miwa.

Kageyama: MIWA.

Miwa sighed and checked her phone, sliently scolding her brother for bothering her. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. She swore, if Tobio wanted a ride home from practice...

Miwa: mm

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Miwa: DUDE

Miwa: AJDJSKDKF

Miwa: HOW THE FUCK

Miwa: TELL ME YOU GOT QUIMCHIS AUTOGRAPH DJFJDJE

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Kageyama: I DID. I GOT ONE FOR U AND ONE FOR ME

Kageyama: HE WAS SO TALL TOO

Kageyama: LIKE HE WAS A HALF FOOT TALLER THAN ME EVEN WITHOUT THE HEELS

Miwa: WHY WAS HE AT UR PRACTICE WHSHD

Kageyama: apparently he’s dating my captain

Miwa: WHAT RHE FUCKCIDNEBRJ

——————

#daichi x male reader #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi hcs #daichi x you #daichi hq #sawamura daichi #daichi fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq x male reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu daichi x reader

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cuttingthe-painter · 4 years

Note

I just really need my fae bae to comfort me saying he won't leave me for any other creature because he loves me even though I'm a plain boring human... ;-;

I have been in quite the slump recently, my friend, and this prompt (that I know you sent forever ago) finally helped me break out of the creative hole I had found myself in!! I really hope you enjoy the fae bae I have created for you!

***feel free to reblog***

Nyn - Fae Boyfriend (sfw)

male fae x human reader

word count: 1718

warnings: insecurity, slight jealousy, sadness, slight mention of past stalking/attempted assault (very brief, 2 paragraphs), PLEASE let me know if I missed any warnings/incorrectly labeled them.

Silence blankets the apartment with the setting of the sun, the only interruptions the soft turning of pages and your persistent nagging thoughts. The television flashes bright colors in the dimly lit room and a dull ache begins to form behind your unfocused eyes. You blink away the dryness, hoping to bring your mind to the present and away from the memory of Nyn and the woman in the park.

It shouldn’t bother you so much; you should be happy that Nyn finally met another fae like him, another fae made from the silky shadows of night, but it’s been three days and you can’t shake the way the stars in his eyes danced when he met her stare. You’ve looked into his eyes countless times, memorized the universes living in them, and they’ve never come to life like that.

They looked like they had been made for each other, Nyn and the woman in the park. The crawling smoke under their ashen skin turning into raging black flames that radiated off them, rising into the night air and burning together. You’ve only seen Nyn’s shadows engulf him one other time, on the night when you’d first met.

Work ran later than usual that night and you found yourself walking home down seemingly empty streets. A few blocks into your commute, a set of footsteps echoed on the sidewalk behind you, matching your pace for a few moments before quickening. Panic seeped into your body, a restless anxiety taking hold of your limbs and sending you running down the nearest alley. The man behind you mirrored your sprint, his hand reaching out to grab your jacket. He yanked it and you twisted to free yourself, only to find your balance thrown off.

You expected to feel the sharp crack of concrete against your head, but it never came. Inky shadows snaked around you, softening your fall, and exploded into the alley between the man and you. You stared into the impervious smoke, wondering if you had hit your head and if this is what death was like, a dark and empty nothingness. But then it receded into a solemn silhouette and you could see the streetlights again.

Your mind is a broken drum, comparing the scenes over and over and over until you feel like you’re about to break. Something silky wraps around your ankle, skates up your outer calf with a feather-light touch, and pulls you from your mental prison.

“Where were you?” Nyn has his hands resting atop his now closed book, brows furrowed and dark eyes locked on you. You try to choke down your insecurity and force out a small laugh.

“I was right here watching the show. What are you talking about?” He purses his lips and you know that he knows you’re avoiding the question. His shadow around your leg retreats back to him and he rises from his chair. Fear twists in your gut, fear that maybe he’s angry or that he’ll leave, but instead he grabs the blanket from the back of the couch, lets it fall open behind him, and crawls up the couch, squeezing himself behind you and wrapping you both up.

“I’m here if you want to talk,” he says, pressing soft kisses into your hair. You both lay there, the soft murmurs of a mindless sitcom lulling you to sleep in the comfort of Nyn’s embrace.

Even in sleep you can’t escape her. She’s standing beside him where you should be, ethereal and fae and made for him. You lay crumpled at their feet, feeble and weak and human. When he grabs her hand and pulls her to him, your body jolts awake and Nyn’s arm tightens around you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, his sleepy voice riddled with panic. Your body curls into itself, tears stain your face and Nyn brushes away your hair sticking to the wet tracks. He cradles you to him, whispering soft I love you’s and It’s going to be okay’s in your ear. You try to believe him, try to believe that it’ll be okay because he loves you, but then you see her and the way his eyes danced when he looked at her and you wonder if it really will be okay.

“Please tell me what I can do to help.” He sounds desperate and scared and you want to be okay just to make him sound normal again but you don’t know how. He lifts himself off the couch, letting you roll onto your back, and hovers over you. His eyes soften when he sees your pained face and shadows snake out from him, coiling through the air towards you, reaching out until they’re soothing away your tears.

It’s getting easier to breathe, each inhale feels less and less like swallowing glass. You raise your hand to stop the shadows, to wipe away your own tears, but they stop you. The dark wisps entangle your fingers and squeeze three times in a silent I love you and you know you have to tell him.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see you and that woman standing there,” you whisper, hoping Nyn can hear you over the breaking of your heart. “And then I open them, hoping she’ll be gone, but she’s still there and I can’t stop myself from wondering why you’re still here with me.”

“I-“ Nyn starts slowly, mulling over his words carefully. “I’m afraid I don’t understand… Why wouldn’t I be here with you? This is our home.” Tears fill your eyes again and you roll your head to the side, avoiding his gaze.

“Because when you looked at her, your shadows came to life and the stars in your eyes danced and that’s never happened when you’ve looked at me. She’s like you and I’m…I’m just..me.” A gentle hand caresses your cheek, slowly turning you back to face Nyn. A look of understanding settles across his face and he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“Those things, they don’t happen because when I look at you, I feel safe,” he whispers against your skin. His warm breath fans down across your face, and your eyes blink away the dryness. Safe. He feels safe. You let the words sink in, hoping that safe isn’t just a proxy for bored.

“I thought maybe it’s because I’m, y’know, human,” you whisper back, willing away the tremor in your voice. Nyn pulls away, staring down at you with a look so soft and so foreign, and you swallow helplessly at the lump straining your throat.

“You say human like it’s an insult.” Seriousness laces his words and you wish you could rewind time and stop yourself from ever mentioning it.

"Isn’t it, though? I mean, compared to you and her?”

“Absolutely not. You being human keeps me sane, makes me want to do better and be better. That’s why when I look at you my stars are still and my shadows contained. Our shadows, they can be dangerous, can turn us dangerous. If we live in them for too long, we become them and lose our sense of humanity.”

Nyn positions himself back around you on the couch as he speaks, wrapping one arm around your waist and tucking the other under your head. His words sooth the lump in your throat, coaxing it to relent enough to let you breathe normally.

“That’s what happened to her,” he continues, soothing circles into your hip with his thumb. “And when she saw us together, she thought that’s what had happened to me. She was dangerous; the things shadow fae will do when consumed by their shadows are… not pleasant. When I heard what she wanted to do, what she thought I wanted to, I did what I had to do to protect you.”

To protect you. Your heart feels like it's going to beat right out of your chest. It clicks then why the only other time you’ve seen him erupt like that was back in the alley, when you were being followed. But how did he know she had ill-intentions? You try to remember when the woman was talking, if she had said anything other than ‘hey there’ and ‘nice to meet you’.

“How did you know she was dangerous? I never heard her say anything weird,” you say, still trying to recall the night more clearly.

“Her eyes,” he says. He’s back there at the park, you can see it in the way his eyes go glassy and his shadows swell out from him. He blinks away the memory and keeps going. “We talk through the lights in them, that’s why they ‘dance'." You don’t really understand it, but you can at least understand enough to get it. You let out a quiet ‘oh’ and wait for him to continue but he doesn’t.

The room quiets again and you focus on Nyn’s slowing breaths, attempting to match yours to his, hoping to leech some of his calm. He nuzzles his face into your hair and hums in content and you feel the pent-up anxiety in your body dissipate. Tears flood your eyes at the sudden rush of love coursing through you and you can’t help the sudden urge to turn and crowd into Nyn’s space, smothering him with kiss after kiss.

He laughs into the kisses, threading his hands into your hair, holding you still and deepening the kisses. You feel his shadows dancing around you, tickling across your skin, and you feel ridiculous for ever doubting how much he loves you. You pull away for a breath and he chases the movement, gently nipping at your lip with his pointed teeth.

“Nyn,” you half-mumble half-moan. He makes a muffled sound in response but pulls back to listen. You smile up to him and say “thanks for protecting me” and he smiles back at you like you’re his entire world, then kisses you again, slow and purposefully and with no intention to stop.

Later, after the kisses have finished and you’re pressed against Nyn under the sheets of your bed, on the verge of sleep, you hear Nyn whisper “thank you for letting me love you” and then you’re gone, dreaming of dances with the shadows in the stars.

#fae boyfriend #fae x reader #fae boyfriend x reader #exophilia #monster lover #monster x reader #prompt request #my writing #fae x human #male fae x human reader

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dearmantis · 4 years

Text

Blood on your hands

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Summary: Westview was your home, but the nightmares you have every night tell a different story. When hallucinations start to take over your day to day life a around the same time Wanda introduced you to her brother Pietro, one of your best friends tries to help.

Help herself, not you.

! Part two of Old wounds ripped open, can be read on it’s own though !

Warnings: spoilers for episode 7 of WandaVision(?), mentions of death and blood, angst, nightmares, a bit of survivors guilt, horror (if you squint a bit), hallucinations, some weird/ creepy stuff involving a corpse (not Vision and not sexual, it’s just weird and a bit sad)

Word Count: 3.2k

Author's Note: Blood on your hands is less focused on Pietro and instead centered more around the Reader and their experiences after the events of Old wounds ripped open. It does involve Pietro again though, don't worry.

Also, some parts of this seemingly got mixed up for some reason so if some passages make no sense and feel out of place that's why. I've been trying to fit it but I mightve overlooked some parts so please tell me!

You had weird dreams since your first day in Westview, your head filled with blurry scenes, blues and whites bleeding into each other as calm voices spoke to you, warm hands caressing your skin, creating scenarios that made no sense but felt familiar enough, like they had had happened once, in a world, a life, vastly different from the one you lived in now.

It would’ve been quite beautiful if they weren’t accompanied by a deep feeling of melancholy, sadness seeping into your body and clinging onto your bones every night, the pictures becoming clearer and the feelings stronger with every passing day.

The night a day before you met Pietro, Wanda's twin brother you don’t remember ever hearing about even though you had been best friends with Wanda since you were 4, the dreams changed.

Suddenly, the sorrow and heartache transformed into fear, cold sweat clinging on your skin every time the panic got strong enough to rip you out of your sleep and you woke up, drenched and shaking.

There was no comfort in the emotions that overtook you during those dreams, no warmth in the sorrow that seemed to fill you up like water, drowning out everything else.

Just this overwhelming sense of terror and grief, slowly choking the air out of your lungs and turning your muscles weak.

You thought about talking with Wanda about what you saw and heard in your dreams, about the gunshots, the screams, the blood, but something held you back. As soon as the idea came up in your mind you knew that this was not an option, no questions, no but’s.

You just knew.

However, as the days went on, the dreams became worse.

People turning to dust, Wanda crying and screaming, a man dying, burns all over his body, a stone being ripped out of the forehead of a strange man, his body falling dead on the ground… and a man with white hair being shot and killed.

All you were able to do was watch, unable to prevent what was happening.

In those dreams you could heal, your hands glowing in a warm golden light, heat burning in your fingertips, but no matter what you did, people continued to turn into dust, the burns stayed, the stone was still gone and you were always too far away to save the man, distancing yourself further every second no matter how hard you fought to get closer to him.

You felt useless, helpless, undeserving.

The fear of Wanda finding out about your nightmares grew steadily with every dream, the outside signs of your sleepless nights becoming more and more obvious, but no matter what tricks and tips you tried, not a single night was slept through calmly.

It didn’t help that the scenarios all held the same familiar feeling the ones before the meeting with Pietro did. Melancholy and pain now ruling hand in hand over what was once supposed to help you relax and restore your energy for the next day.

You started hallucinating after 2 days. Vision was always gone or with Wanda and something about Pietro's company made you feel uncomfortable, so you started to spend your time more by yourself, now really regretting that you didn’t get a dog when the idea first came up.

It began with randomly seeing people on the street turning to dust.

The first time it happened you felt like you were going to turn to dust as well, your heartbeat loudly hammering in your ears as you ran out of the house screaming, trying to help and save your poor neighbors from certain doom. It happened two more times before you realized that your mind was playing tricks on you,, too exhausted to work like it was supposed to.

Halloween night was the worst.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to actually rest, you decided to spend the night on the couch, watching any kids show or movie you could find, until you slipped back into unconsciousness at around 11 pm during a scooby doo marathon.

Wanda had invited you to come along with her, the twins and the boys since both Vision and Agnes would be busy that day but you refused, claiming that you felt sick and wanted to spend the night in your bed sleeping and watching TV. The young mother had looked you up and down, pity in her watchful eyes, before she took your hand, squeezed it, and told you to call in case anything happened and you needed help. You had nodded, thanking Wanda and promising her to come over as soon as you felt better.

The reason why Halloween was the worst was because the dream you had was different once again, this time for seemingly no reason at all.

Wanda was currently being dragged away from a body, the body of the man you had seen before in previous dreams. The one who got shot while you were in the air, unable to get closer to him no matter how hard you tried. Her hysterical screaming was the only thing you could hear, sokovian insults directed towards those dragging her away, someone named Ultron, and you.

You were on what you recognized to be a helicarrier, even though you don’t remember ever having seen one or heard of one, the word unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.

Wanda stared at you as you slowly approached the body, still being held back but now silent like everyone else around you, all of their eyes focused on you and you alone.

An empty feeling had started to fill your mind since the helicopter had landed, not a single emotion or thought racing through your head when you lifted your hands, a warm golden glow engulfing them, and placed them on the man's chest.

The wounds healed, golden threads filling the wounds before turning into normal human tissue, but his heart stayed still, no matter what you did.

“This is your fault too. You promised you would be there! You promised you would keep him safe, you disgusting liar. I tried to defend you so many times but HYDRA and Ultron were right. You’re useless.”, Wanda uttered, her eyes wild and glowing in a deep shade of red, her hands called to fists.

Your powers got stronger and stronger, now able to rebuild entire missing limbs like you had done just a few minutes ago to save an old man instead of only healing small cuts like during your first weeks with HYDRA, but death was still irreversible to you.

A part of you simply accepting what she had said as the truth.

You should’ve been there. You directly disobeyed orders. This is your fault too. There was no denying of these simple facts.

Another part of you however, the part of you that was trained by Hydra and followed Ultron, filled with toxic thoughts and jealousy because Wanda was stronger than you, got more attention than you, was more important than you overall, saw a chance to strike.

“You knew that he was still getting used to his powers, Wanda. And you knew that he was already getting exhausted, making him slower. It was your job to protect him too. After all, you’re the one who can rip through those robots like nothing. I’m just a useless healer.”

Both of you would regret these words years later, Wanda sitting in her room only two months later, hysterically sobbing and shaking like a leaf, none of the other Avengers being able to do anything other than calling you, begging you to take a break from helping with the rebuilding of Sokovia because something was wrong with Wanda and no one knew what to do. When you arrived you laid in each other's arms, trying to calm each other down, talking about how much you missed each other and what happened during and after Pietro's death.

Oh, something was definitely wrong.

A loud knocking on your door was what ripped you out of your sleep, quickly jogging to it, thinking it must be Wanda trying to check on you. Instead, Agnes was standing in front of you, a sweet smile on her lips.

How Wanda saw his dead body everywhere, and how you couldn’t touch wet things anymore or wash your hands with cold water because it kept reminding you of his blood soaked shirt and the way your hands were covered in his cold blood, the red liquid dripping from them until it dried to a dark brown layer.

“Hey Y/N,”, she greeted, moving past you to get into your house. “Wanda told me about you feeling a bit sick so I came over to check on you. You’re my friend too, afterall. I wanna make sure you’re doing alright.”

Slowly your eyes moved down, landing on your hands.

Agnes was already waiting for you in the kitchen, preparing two cups of tea like this was her house, shooing you back into the living room while loudly talking about how important it was for her to take care of her close friends. You were about to sit back down on the couch when you finally heard it.

Dripping. Something was dripping.

Red.

Turning, your eyes followed the path you had walked as well as you could, moving from the couch, small red drops leading to the door with its now blood covered doorknob, to the kitchen, and then back to the couch.

You silently watched her from the door, your mind still half stuck in the dream you had, trying to understand what was happening when the door slipped out of your grasp, closing on its own.

“Oh Y/N, I didn’t send you into the living room for you to just stand here and stare into nothingness. Sit down, sweetheart. The tea is nearly done, just give it another minute.”, Agnes suddenly said, setting two cups and a small bowl down on the living room table before pushing you down onto the couch and turning the sound of the TV lower. She quickly sat down next to you, covering you and herself with the blanket that had fallen to the floor while you had slept.

“So, darling, tell me about how you’re feeling. Wanda seemed awfully worried about you. She kept babbling about not knowing what was wrong with you, a true sweetheart, isn’t she?”, Agnes laughed, patting your knee before carefully pulling the tea bags out of the cups.

You knew it had to be a hallucination, the man's blood on your hands coming out of the dream you had, just like the people turning to dust, but it looked so real, the feeling eerily familiar to you.

With a big grin on her lips, she gave you one of them, taking a big sip of it while watching you do the same thing from your own cup.

You were nearly finished with your tea when you noticed that you hadn’t told Agnes or Wanda about what was wrong with you. the cup covered in blood when you sat it down, the liquid on your hands seemingly unending and refusing to dry like it had in your dream.

For a while you sat there, together, watching scoobie doo while drinking tea, talking about the boring ads or about your time in Westview.

“Agnes, why aren’t you with Wanda and the twins right now?”, you asked, your voice not louder than a whisper, somehow aware that asking about her knowledge about the nightmares wouldn’t end well for you.

“Like I told you, I wanted to make sure you’re alright and don’t feel too lonely. Now finish your cup of tea so I can leave knowing that you’ll sleep well tonight. I even put out a big bowl of candy on your porch to make sure no one will ring the door to wake you up tonight.”

If that was all it took for her to go, you would obey, you thought to yourself, downing the rest of the bitter tasting tea in one go before standing up.

With every passing second, Agnes company seemed to make you more and more unconfortable, her aura more dominant than usual. You needed her out of your house. Now.

Agnes smiled at you, took the cups and stood up to go to the kitchen. “Not before I washed these, sweetheart. Then I’ll leave you alone to sleep. Wanda will be fine for another few minutes.”

“Come on, Agnes. I bet Wanda already misses you greatly. You should meet them before the twins go to bed.”, you exclaimed, lifting the blanket from her body and folding it.

A sigh escaped your lips as you walked to the door, suddenly stopping when your eyes jumped to the middle of the hallway.

You were frozen in place, unable to move even when Agnes came out of the kitchen.

She dried her hands with one of your towels before carelessly dropping it on the floor, grinning at you before leaving with the words “Have fun tonight, Y/N. I know you missed him so much.”

When the door fell into its lock, you dropped to your knees, hands shaking and legs weak like pudding.

Pietro.

Pietro, Pietro, Pietro, Pietro, Pietro Pietro.

Here.

On your floor.

You didn’t know how long you sat on the floor, staring at that body, just that you still hadn’t moved when the sun started to rise again, your eyes glued to the corpse while you tried to sort through your newly gained memories.

Dead.

Of course your immediate thought had been to blame Wanda. She was the only person you knew who had the power to take away memories and manipulate your thoughts and feelings and she had a motive.

She was your best friend. Your best friend since kindergarten and the only one who knew about your crush on her twin. Memories from inside Westview also came to mind, from when you woke up in Wanda's kitchen after she introduced you to Pietro for the first time, a day before the introduction you actually remember, your memory coming back after “Pietro” had introduced himself to you.

Wanda had tried to explain her decision to bring you to Westview. Reasoned that you were still so depressed and she just wanted you to feel happy, to get the fairy tale ending she thought you deserved, even if it had to be without Pietro.

Wanda, who probably controlled everyone in Westview, including Agnes who had just talked about missing a man while you stared at the hallucination of his corpse in your hallway.

And she would never be cruel enough to you to give you the nightmares and hallucinations you had now.

There was no way Wanda had possessed Agnes to do this to you.

But she had also claimed not to know where the other “Pietro” came from.

As soon as the realization hit, you stumbled to your feet, the world turning as you ran out of your house, pushing past people as you tried to get to Wanda’s house as quickly as possible. She, Vision, the twins… everyone could be in danger.

This wasn’t Wanda.

If a dead robot and two probably imagined or possessed kids can even be in danger...

You didn’t bother to knock, simply storming into the house, screaming for your best friend.

She immediately reached out to touch you, giving you another once over with her eyes.

“What is going on?”, she responded, a confused look on her face as she came out of the kitchen, panic visible in her eyes as soon as she saw you. “Why are you covered in blood? What happened last night?”

“It’s Pietro’s blood, not mine.”, you said quickly, like that explained anything.

“What blood? Hell, Y/N, you look like you died twice. And what’s this about Pietro’s blood? Do you mean that impos-”

Her eyes began to glow red and you knew she was searching through your mind, trying to make sense of your words.

“You knew it wouldn’t hold for long. Me and Pietro were never as affected by your powers as others were.”, you whispered, trying to answer the unasked question that was hovering in the room.

“Not that Pietro. I mean our Pietro. The one who died in Sokovia in 2015. The one I loved… love. The one I love. It’s his blood.”

“I didn’t give you the nightmares or the hallucinations. I didn’t do that. That wasn’t me. I made sure to keep them as far away from you as I could.”, Wanda insisted, probably more to calm herself down than to prove something to you since you also didn’t think of her as capable of that cruelty.

Her eyes lost their glow but she continued to watch you before quietly saying “Go upstairs. Vision is away and the Twins are with Agnes today. Sleep, I’ll make sure you won’t have nightmares. The hallucinations wont stop if you don’t sleep. You’ll keep seeing the blood on your hands and the corpse on the floor.”

You nodded, walking up the stairs like she had told you before entering the bedroom, only pausing for a second when you saw Pietro’s corpse laying on the right side of the bed before laying down next to it.

“I know Wanda, I know. But someone else did, and I want to find out who without being under the control of someone else. I can’t help when you do that. I can’t use my powers if I don’t remember that I have them.”

Slowly, you reached out to lay your hand on his chest, the glow of your powers only slightly dimmed by the blood. If you closed the wounds maybe you would be able to pretend this was simply a happy dream. A happy dream of a life you could’ve had if you had listened to Steve's orders to stay on the ground with Hawkeye to heal civilians, or if you had simply been less of a coward and told Pietro about your feelings before that last fatal battle.

Like seeing his dead body in your hallway and being covered in his blood wasn’t already traumatizing enough, your mind had to one-up itself once again.

If, if, if.

Always those stupid useless if’s.

You carefully covered the body of the now healed hallucinated corpse with the blanket before getting more comfortable yourself and closing your eyes.

You had completely forgotten to tell Wanda about your suspicions concerning Agnes.

#pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff x y/n #wandavision #wandavision fanfic

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alphadaddyderek · 3 years

Text

Not all math puns are awful, just sum (sterek fic, high school au)

ao3 link: click if you dare

summary: ’what is the probability that anyone will pass this fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100’

Stiles shakes his head because that was such a bad math joke that it was actually kinda funny. And, based on the expressions on people’s faces during class, also very true.

'i think there is statistical data to back up your theory’

AU where Stiles and Derek have to share a textbook and they write terrible math puns back and forth to each other.

Stiles sincerely, genuinely, regrets taking AP classes.

Well, kinda.

They would look great on his resume. Colleges wouldn’t even second guess accepting him and he would receive so many scholarships which would help his dad big time.

AP classes will also raise his GPA crazy high which, again, looks great to colleges.

Sometimes they just suck.

His AP Statistics class is definitely #1 on the ‘classes that suck straight ass list’.

It’s boring and it can be kinda hard. Plus it’s math so it’s automatically gross.

Stiles is good at math, but it’s not his forte, that’s more Lydia Martin’s thing.

Anyway, Beacon Hills High had to have some budget cuts this year, like, serious budget cuts. The sports teams are lucky that people care about people throwing balls all over the place, otherwise they would’ve gotten cut too.

Since the school has had budget cuts, the students don’t get individual textbooks anymore. Meaning, that they can only use it during class and then they have to leave it in the classroom for the next class to use.

So, yeah.

It’s the third week of junior year, AP Stat is as boring as always. He has Lydia to talk to sometimes but she has other friends in the same class, so he's not always entertained.

The teacher didn’t really care about whether or not students did the work, he just played chess on his computer the whole class anyway. He gave the page number that we were supposed to work on and that was that.

Stiles prefers that to lectures, but still. When he’s done the work there’s nothing left for him to do. He could go on his phone, but even that gets boring eventually.

What he’s trying to say is that he’s bored, okay?

Turning to the page that the teacher assigned, Stiles is shocked and wildly amused, to already see writing on the margins of the page. He figured it would take at least half the school year before people started vandalizing the textbooks. Although, it’s written in pencil so it’s easily erasable.

When Stiles actually reads what was written he snorts. Luckily, it’s loud in the class so the most attention he gets is when Lydia shoots him a weird look which he ignores.

'what is the probability that anyone will pass this fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100'

Stiles shakes his head because that was such a bad math joke that it was actually kinda funny. And, based on the expressions on people’s faces during class, also very true.

Should he write something back? Stiles doesn’t know if the person who wrote this is hoping for a response, or if they wrote in the book because they’re just as bored as Stiles is.

Eh, fuck it. Why not?

'i think there is statistical data to back up your theory’

Stiles snickers at his equally bad math joke before finally deciding to focus on the actual work. He didn’t want to be one of the ones who didn’t pass the class, because that would suck. So he does the work and for the remainder of the class he lets out a giggle or two every once in a while because even though he’s 16 years old, he apparently still has the sense of humor of a child.

π π π

It’s the next class and honestly, Stiles kind of forgot about the writing in the textbook. After he left that class he went to AP Geography where there was immediately a test, which he nailed by the way. Plus, with all his other classes, he just didn’t think it was important to remember a bad, but still funny, math joke in a textbook.

The teacher assigns them another page number full of questions to work on. And, just like last time, there’s writing in the margins.

‘i’m sorry, that was pretty mean of me to say’

That one has Stiles laughing out loud. Not too loud though, because he doesn’t have that much of a death wish. He just laughs loud enough to make Lydia send him another weird look, except this time Lydia questions him about it.

“What is so funny?” she asks, twirling her hair with her pencil.

Stiles shakes his head. “Nothing really. Just somebody writing lame math jokes on the book pages.”

“Well, you’re laughing at them. So doesn’t that make you lame as well?”

Stiles dramatically gasps.

“Wow, Lydia, that was pretty mean of you to say,” Stiles replies before bursting into more laughter.

At this point, Lydia is looking at him like he has brain damage but he really can’t bring himself to care. It’s hilarious and if she doesn’t think so then oh well. Her loss.

Well, she doesn’t know that that was the joke inside the textbook, but still, whatever.

It’s funny.

π π π

By this point, it’s kind of like Stiles and this unknown jokester are pen pals.

It’s been a week filled with terrible math jokes and Lydia probably losing more and more respect for him as the days pass.

He’s told Scott about his little pen pal and of course, Scott doesn’t really get it, but he’s supportive nonetheless.

It’s a Friday night and Scott is at Stiles’ house. They’re playing video games and eating so much pizza that Stiles will be bloated for an entire week.

Thankfully, his dad is on the night shift, otherwise, he would be heavily judgmental of Stiles’ life choices.

After several rounds of Mario Kart, they take a break to eat said pizza and talk a bit.

“So,” Scott takes a huge bite of his slice. “how are you and your math buddy doing?”

Stiles takes a bite of his own slice. “Why are you asking? Jealous?”

Scott laughs. “Oh yeah, I’m so jealous. Please, Stiles, make terrible math jokes with me.”

Stiles flips Scott off. “You only mock because you really are jealous.”

Scott rolls his eyes and then the topic is dropped.

At least for the next hour or so. Then after that, it gets brought back up.

“Do you think it’s weird to have a crush on someone you’ve never met?” Stiles asks, playing with a loose thread on his jeans.

Scott looks at Stiles, and Stiles does not want to see the weird look Scott has on his face so he continues looking down.

“You have a crush on this person?”

Stiles shrugs. “I don’t know. They’re funny, and obviously, they’re smart if they’re in AP Stat. I would like to meet this person though, maybe. I don’t know.”

Stiles feels his cheeks heating up.

Scott nudges Stiles with his elbow. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not weird at all. It’s kinda like online dating, but like medieval style.”

Stiles can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his throat. “What?”

It’s like medieval style! ‘Cause, it’s in a book. Instead of online.”

Scott is always able to make Stiles feel better, no matter the situation. His goofiness especially lightens his mood.

“Okay, Scott. Are we going to go jousting next?”

“I don’t know. What you guys do on your first date is none of my business,” Scott says with a sly smile.

Stiles snorts and grabs a pillow off the couch behind them and smacks Scott in the face with it, resulting in a pillow fight ensuing.

And if anybody asks, Scott did not win. He didn’t!

π π π

2 weeks after he and Scott had that talk, Stiles continues talking with his pen pal. Although, maybe Stiles is looking too deep into this, but it kind of seems like flirting now?

Hear him out.

In the margins, the person started adding smiley faces and winky faces after every message.

Ooh and they actually put their initials! D.H.

Stiles doesn’t think he knows anyone in school with those initials. Granted, Stiles isn’t exactly a social butterfly so he’s not doubting their existence at all.

AP Stat only has 5 minutes left in the class. Stiles has already embarrassed himself in front of Lydia more times than he can count, so he decides to ask Lydia if she knows someone with those initials.

She purses her lips. “Why do you ask?”

Stiles sighs inwardly before answering. “Uh, well. I was just...wondering. Ya know. Trying to expand my friend circle.”

Lydia raises an eyebrow. And Stiles sighs outwardly this time.

“Fine. You know the jokes that were in the book?”

“You mean from like a month ago?”

“Well...we’ve kinda been continuing to exchange jokes and notes and stuff. And then recently they put their initials. Or, at least I think it’s their initials. I don’t know what else it would be. So, yeah.”

Lydia looks at him for a moment before her lips curl up into a smile. “You mean you’ve finally found someone who has a worse sense of humor than you?”

Stiles returns the smile. “I’ll have you know, my sense of humor is advanced. Way too advanced even for you.”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, the only name that comes to mind is Derek Hale.”

Stiles chokes on his own spit. “Derek Hale? You mean the star of the basketball team? The guy with eyes that are like fifty different colors and bunny teeth that would look ridiculous on anyone else but he somehow looks gorgeous with them? That Derek Hale?”

“Yes. Other than that, I don’t know anyone else with those initials.”

“Does he take AP Stat?”

Lydia shrugs. Stiles takes that as a no.

There’s no way that Derek Hale is the one writing these notes. No way in hell. Stiles isn’t that lucky.

Plus, even if Derek is the one writing these, hypothetically speaking, Derek wouldn’t be interested in him. Don’t get Stiles wrong, he knows he’s a pretty attractive guy. But nobody in this school is as attractive as Derek Hale. Let's be real here.

Okay, maybe Danny. Danny is kinda gorgeous.

But besides Danny, nobody is even on the same level as Derek.

Well, Lydia is too.

Okay, dammit. People are on the same level as Derek Hale. The point is that Stiles isn’t.

Stiles sighs for what seems like the eighth time in. “Okay. Thanks.”

Lydia gives him a scrutinizing look before nodding and getting on her phone.

Stiles sits there and ponders why his life is like this before deciding that he must've done something to piss off fate in a past life. Pleased with his conclusion, Stiles shoves his notebook and pencils into his backpack just in time for the bell to ring.

π π π

Okay, so, Stiles must be going crazy.

When he saw that his pen pal had written his initials he figured, ‘hey, I might as well do the same. It’s only decent right?’ so he had, and ever since then Derek Hale has been shooting him looks in the hallway.

Maybe he’s hallucinating, because Derek Hale is, well, Derek Hale. Out of everyone in the hallway, why would he be looking at Stiles?

Also, Stiles can’t be the only person in the school with the initials S.S. although, he probably is the only S.S. that’s taking AP Stat so there’s that.

Stiles doesn’t know what to do, should he wave? Shoot him a smile?

Actually no, he should do neither of those things because if he does, and Derek actually wasn’t looking at him, that would be so unbelievably embarrassing. So embarrassing that Stiles would have to transfer schools immediately.

Stiles shakes his head and opens up his locker to gather his things for his next class. When he closes the locker Derek is standing right there like they’re in a horror movie and Stiles jumps so hard that he drops his notebook.

“Shit. Sorry,” Derek says and bends down to swipe Stiles’ notebook off the floor.

“No, it’s okay. You’re awfully quiet for an athlete.”

Stiles holds his hand out for his notebook but Derek doesn’t seem all that interested in returning it to him just yet. Derek looks at the front of his notebook.

“Hmm. AP Stat. Interesting.”

Stiles bites his lip and nods. “Yep,” he says popping the ‘p’. “it is interesting. Well, actually it’s not. AP Stat is yuck sometimes and it can get boring but it’ll look great on my resume so.”

Derek nods. He looks at Stiles for a few more seconds before he opens his mouth, and the second he does, Stiles’ stomach fills with butterflies.

“What is the probability that anyone will pass that fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100.”

Stiles bites his lip to stifle his smile. He doesn’t want to cheese like an idiot in front of Derek Hale but he thinks that ship has already sailed cause Derek’s lips stretch into a big smile.

Stiles clears his throat. “I think there is statistical data to back up your theory.”

“Oh, is there?” Derek asks, smile turning into a smirk.

Stiles nods then looks at his notebook that is still in Derek’s hand. “Can I have my notebook now? I’m not sure what exactly you’re plotting but I don’t like it.”

Derek scrunches his face up. “Wow, that was bad.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes. “Like yours were any better.”

Derek shrugs, smile returning to his face. “I thought my mean joke was pretty hilarious.”

“Yeah, hilariously bad. I didn’t laugh at all, not one bit.”

Derek looks like he doesn’t believe a word Stiles just said, which is fair, he shouldn’t.

“So,” Derek begins, eyes boring into Stiles’— seriously, what is up with Derek’s eyes? — “what is the probability that you will give me your number?”

Stiles pretends to think about it for a second. “I'm thinking 100 in 100.”

#stiles stilinski #derek hale #Sterek #sterek fic #high school au #quite possibly the worst math jokes ever in existence #my fic

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hajimewhore · 4 years

Text

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 3.2k words ➷Humor, slight angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, shenanigans ofc, i missed oikawa ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, ✈Part 7

Hajime nearly chokes, wiping the ‘potion’ dribbling down his jawline, he presses the back of his hand to his mouth in an attempt to keep the disgusting concoction from exiting his gut.

“...How was it?”

You try to pat his back sympathetically (he’s gagging now), but you’re the one that insisted he try the mystery remedy first, and you cautiously pull your hand away as he shoots you the most menacing glare he can while he’s coughing into his palm.

“It was made with weird mushrooms and fucking plants, how do you think it tastes?”

Terrible, you guess. And the effects were supposed to be instantaneous, according to a recipe dropped in one of the posts you found… not that you expected it to work.

“Ahh, and nothing happened.”

You rub your jaw semi-thoughtfully, before catching the look on Hajime’s face.

“Uh, Hajime?”

His expression is glaring, not unlike someone scheming for revenge. But that’s silly, Hajime wouldn’t blame you for the potion not working, right?

“It probably didn’t work because you didn’t try it with me.”

It seems he would, realization sets in as Hajime closes in on you, and you panic,

“I think it didn’t work because it was someone bullshitting!”

“Don’t you want to swap back? Just drink it!”

“You’re just mad, get away from me!”

You trip on your feet, stumbling into the kitchen table. It scrapes the tile as your hands clutch for purchase on anything that’ll help you get you away from the madman behind you, but the tablecloth you’ve grasped at isn’t much help seeing as you swipe it off the table entirely. You’d be impressed that all the plates and the flower-filled vase stayed perfectly set on the table from your impromptu magic trick, if it weren’t for Hajime assaulting you.

You cry out as if you’re being brutally attacked (you are, technically–just with plant juice), and Hajime takes you by the jaw and tilts a cup of the swirling cocktail to your lips, sloshing rather unappetizingly in the glass. If the thing had an aura, it’d have a thick gray cloud fuming from it.

“And why would I be mad?”

“Because I made you drink a potion I found on a weird thread even though it was totally suspicious and completely untrustworthy!”

You confess to your sins, the thread was actually some sort of troll that promised the reader would swap bodies with their favorite celebrity, and you cast it aside for the likelihood of that never happening, it was probably a scam to get some gullible teens to drink essentially dirt.

And you admit that initially you thought it would be funny to prank Hajime, jotting down the recipe and conveniently leaving out the celebrity bit, but in your excitement to scheme you forgot Hajime doesn’t take too well to pranks at his expense.

Not without retribution at least, and you find yourself grappling at his wrists, attempting to turn your head away from the glass.

He eyes you with a too eager grin,

“You should try it, really, it might work.”

It didn’t.

It was disgusting.

You have learned your lesson not to trifle with Hajime, and you're no closer to finding a solution to your problem.

You slump onto the kitchen table, feeling especially abused and violated by the plant paste you regretfully crafted.

“That’s number one on the list, what’s next?”

Hajime rests his elbow on the table, chin in palm as he scrolls on his phone.

“Bonk our heads together so hard we pass out and hopefully wake up in our own bodies?”

You suggest. Who knows, it could actually work.

“No thanks, I’d rather not wake up the same way but with a concussion.”

The second Hajime turns down your cartoonish suggestion, his phone lights up and buzzes, signifying a call.

You glance at his phone, “Tooru’s calling you?”

“Fuck. I’ll just ignore it,”

The moment he sets his phone aside, the kitchen door bursts open, presenting none other than Oikawa Tooru, entirely expected given the situation and the fact that Hajime’s parents are still at work.

“Tooru?!”

You blink in surprise, and Tooru frowns at the sight of the two of you together.

“I knew you were ignoring me!”

“What the fuck Shittykawa, who said you could come over?”

Hajime grimaces, forgetting to stay true to your personality in his surprise. Tooru’s brow ticks at the catty response to his entrance.

“I see you’ve been spending too much time with Iwa-chan, using his terrible nicknames! I didn’t think you’d ever use it on me either, but here we are!”

He folds his arms across his chest, and Hajime covers his mouth.

Shit, he let that one slip in his initial shock.

“Besides, this is Iwa-chan’s house, and I say I can come over! You two have been ignoring me all week and coming up with the shittiest excuses—”

“Oikawa—”

“No, let me finish!”

He huffs, looking more serious than you’ve seen him outside the court. Judging by his posture and the worry in his brows, you can tell he’s been stressing himself lately. You bite your cheek, knowing full well you and Hajime were the root of the cause.

“Both of you have to go to the dentist when the office is closed, really? Iwa-chan studying for a test that’s not for another week, please! Give me a break. Not to mention, every practice you play like shit Iwa-chan,”

It’s not shit, you’re just not Hajime’s usual, because you’re not fucking Hajime. You want to argue, defend yourself and Hajime, but you keep your lips sealed.

“You act like a total weirdo, you hardly talk to your own teammates and friends, and you–”

He turns to Hajime, technically you, scowl ever present.

“You always run off with him after school! And don’t even pretend like you’re not having lunch with him too, Kunimi-chan saw you eating alone together by the art building–ditching me, yeah?”

He’s fuming, and his hair is moving in every direction accompanying his wild, frantic gestures.

The guilt starts piling, and you’re starting to regret yours and Hajime’s way of handling the situation.

To avoid uncomfortable situations and messing up, you thought the best method was to steer clear from everyone entirely.

Clearly that’s backfiring, but it’s too late to erase those actions now.

“Not only have you two spent all week lying to me, you’ve been completely ignoring my calls and texts all weekend too!”

Tooru pauses, rant seemingly over, but neither you or Hajime feel inclined to speak yet, too caught off guard by the outburst, and unsure of what you can say to remedy the situation.

Tooru drops his arms at his sides, glancing away from the two of you, biting his lip. Your shoulders tense when you feel the atmosphere around him drop significantly.

“Are you guys mad at me?”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

You forgot he had feelings.

“Oikawa, it’s not that, I swear.”

You speak first, and Tooru looks to you with an expression that almost breaks your heart right there. Brown eyes glossy, lips in a thin line as if he’s trying to keep them from turning down into a frown, he looks genuinely displeased.

“Are you just sick of me? Are you tired of hanging out with me? I know I’m an asshole sometimes, but if it makes you guys that upset I can stop, I’ll be better.”

In any other context you may quip with a ‘you could stop this whole time?’, but the joke wouldn’t sit right, and Tooru looks entirely too on edge, fingers tapping at his sides restlessly.

Tooru’s always been the type to stay true to himself, unabashedly and unapologetically. He knows he’s flawed, has learned to accept his shortcomings as a person. But here he is before you and Hajime, willing to cast aside his pride for the sake of your friendship. It only serves to guilt you more, considering it’s based upon the lies you’ve built up.

“I promise we’re not sick of you, we just… had something come up that we had to deal with. It’s been really stressful, I’m sorry.”

You don’t particularly care if it’s too out of character, it’s what Tooru needs to hear.

Risking a glance at Hajime, you see he’s shaking his leg and biting his lip, a few of his nervous tics, he’s contemplating something heavily.

“And you can’t tell me? You always tell me when something is wrong.”

Tooru eyes you suspiciously, and it’s true, usually you can tell Tooru anything. But this isn’t something believable, and you and Hajime both decided it’s best kept a secret.

“We can’t, but it’s nothing you did. Don’t worry about it, we’ll start hanging out soon, like we used to, we just have to deal with this ourselves.”

And you hope you’ll be able to, it’d be nice to go back to normal. You did miss movie nights with Tooru and Hajime, and you miss having lunch together on the rooftop.

Tooru thinks for a moment, you see the gears turning in his head, eyes focused. He glances to Hajime, who hasn’t said a word the entire time, still tense on the other side of the table.

Tooru’s contemplative gaze flicks to you, as if he’s had some sort of revelation.

“Did you get her pregnant?”

WHA—THAT’S HIS REVELATION?

“You asshole, shut up!”

Hajime’s choice first words.

“What?! No, no, fuck no!”

You blush heavily at his wild accusation, and Tooru looks visibly relieved.

“Oh, thank god. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, necessarily, and I always kind of expected it, but this is just too soon.”

He laughs airily, as if he doesn’t feel the weight of his words like you do, heavy on your heart. Does everyone have that assumption? That you and Hajime would one day be together like that?

“We’re not even dating, idiot.”

Ouch. Hajime’s adamant refusal jabs at you, and you try to ignore the ache that claws at your chest. That may have stung a bit, but you certainly won’t admit it out loud.

“Yeah, yeah. I just couldn’t think of any other reason you’d be ignoring me like that.”

“It’s ‘cause we swapped bodies.”

You whip your head to Hajime, physically ripped from your disappointment, too shocked he’d blab the truth to Tooru and expect a reasonable outcome from it.

“Hah. Hah.”

Tooru doesn’t even entertain the explanation, arms crossed and eyes disinterested, accompanying the dry laugh well.

“It’s true.”

You hope Hajime knows what he’s doing.

“Funny, and I didn’t think you’d be in on it Iwa-chan, looking so surprised like that.”

Tooru doesn’t even look skeptical, or remotely fazed, as if he doesn’t want to be tricked into falling for something so blatantly stupid.

And normally, he’d be right to, but in this case, you and Hajime were unfortunately not kidding.

“I just didn’t think Hajime would openly admit that without talking to me first.”

You shoot a glance at Hajime, as if to convey ‘I hope you know what you’re doing’, but he merely shrugs in response.

“And you’re a real prankster today too. What’s gotten into you guys? Seriously, are you mad at me?”

Tooru is starting to look a little peeved, visibly doubting your words of encouragement from earlier.

“We’re not mad. We switched places. We woke up last Sunday in each other’s bodies. That’s why we haven’t been ourselves, and that’s why we’ve been avoiding everyone.”

Hajime continues with his explanation, as if Tooru would be any closer to believing it.

Which he isn’t.

“That’s not even possible, but fine, I’ll play along. You’re Iwa-chan, supposedly. What’s something that only he would know?”

Tooru crosses his arms smugly, staring at your body, who is ‘supposedly’ Hajime, as if he’s got you two in checkmate.

This can’t be good for Tooru, but it’s definitely going to be good for you if you’re getting in on a secret.

“Alright. You swore me to secrecy for this one,” Hajime doesn’t hesitate for one second, “that time at the volleyball banquet last year you saw a girl with a ‘nice ass’ in a ‘super mega tight dress’ and wanted to hit on her, but when you tapped her shoulder, she turned around and it was actually Y/N–”

Now this is very interesting news to you.

“H-HEY, STOP TALKING–”

Hajime side steps Tooru’s attempt to cover his mouth,

“And you pre-gamed before the event so you drunkenly admitted to me that you’d still tap that but she’s practically your sister and that’s gross but her ass looked so–”

“I get it okay! How do I know you’re not just fucking with me and broke the secret pact we made?!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off and glares at you, but you’re giving him the widest, shit-eating grin.

“I knew that dress looked good.”

“Enough games already!”

“What about the time in elementary school where you and I went to a volleyball match and you had to–”

“ENOUGH, enough, I believe you, okay!”

Tooru relents, red-faced and practically sweating from his nervous panic.

“I wanna know about the time in elementary school where you and Hajime went to a volleyball match and something happened.”

You put your hand up, wanting to know the juicy details. You thought you and Tooru told each other everything, but apparently there’s some missing gaps in that ‘everything’, and you’re very eager to learn.

“We made a friendship promise and he swore me not to tell anyone but because of the circumstances, he had to—”

“I said I believed you already, stop trying to out me!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off at the best part, every time.

He taps his foot with a huff, bottom lip twitching into a frown. Hajime gives him a smug look, staring back combatively, as if Tooru will attempt to call out bullshit again (he won’t).

You’ll have to remember to ask Hajime about the middle school incident at a later date, but right now,

“I’m sorry we kept this from you, and sorry I kept ignoring your calls, Tooru. We didn’t know what to do.”

You interrupt their staring contest, wrapping your arms around Tooru in a tight hug. You’re the tallest you’ve ever been, and it’s weird to hug him when you aren’t yourself, but you missed your best friend.

“Uh…”

Tooru awkwardly pats your back,

“I was kind of lying before because I thought you guys were trying to shame and humiliate me, but this is really weird and I actually might believe you now.”

“Asshole, that’s all it took?! And stop hugging him like that, it's freaking me out!”

Hajime slaps Tooru on the back, yanking you by the back of your shirt to pull you from the hug.

He grumbles something indecipherable under his breath, contemplating whether he should even say anything,

“I’m sorry too. I guess.”

He gives Tooru an awkward, much gentler slap on the back, before slinging his arm around Tooru in some sort of half-hug gesture.

“I-Iwa-chan! It really is you in there!”

Oikawa’s fake tears spring to life as he bends down to wrap Hajime in a hug, who struggles like a cat wanting to be released.

“Get off me!”

Tooru pulls back, wiping a tear from his long lashes,

“I’m still really upset right now, I really thought you guys hated me! So if you could please shower me with adoration, that’d be lovely.”

Tooru spreads out his arms, a pathetic expression on his face that Hajime doesn’t buy for one second.

“Tooru! I love you! You’re the best Tooru, your jump serves are great! Your setting is unmatched! You’re my bestest friend!”

You cheer him on, Hajime is balking that you’d even entertain the idea of doing that in his body, let alone acting on it, but Tooru eats it up with gleaming eyes.

“Quit feeding his ego!”

It’s your turn to be scolded by Hajime, but you just stick your tongue out at him sheepishly.

“He deserves it?”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly! He didn’t do anything, and we were being bad friends.”

“I’m on your side,”

Tooru slings an arm around your shoulder and gazes down at Hajime, who’s more aggravated now than when he was drinking straight plant paste.

It hadn’t bothered him too much initially, but having to crane his neck up to glare at Tooru is sparking some caveman urge deep inside Hajime to absolutely throttle him.

“Out. Get out of my house.”

“Technically, this isn’t your house–OW, Iwa-chan, that still hurts!”

“Newsflash Asshole-kawa, girls can hit too!”

They can, and you let Hajime prove his point.

“So,”

“If it’s something about aliens, I don’t want to hear it.”

You interrupt Tooru before he can spew something definitely about aliens.

“I wasn’t going to bring up aliens–though it’s a very valid cause you definitely need to consider. I was actually going to ask if you have any idea how long you’re gonna be like this?”

You give Tooru a tired look, and Hajime just ignores him entirely, tired of glaring no doubt.

Tooru’s been lazing around, attempting to ‘help’ you and Hajime, but you doubt he’s accomplished anything aside from scrolling through the same threads you’ve looked through. You’re willing to bet he researched for a minute or two before losing interest, abandoning the task in favor of looking through Karasuno’s and Shiratorizawa’s match history.

“If we knew, we’d tell you.”

You respond, since it seems Hajime isn’t interested in replying.

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Tooru props his elbows up on the couch, pausing whatever volleyball match he was watching to drop his phone on his chest, “I saw this foreign family comedy once where the mom and her daughter swapped places, but they had to show each other selfless love and understand what the other goes through to swap back.”

Tooru gasps in additional realization before turning to Hajime, “Iwa-chan, are you her mom?”

The look Hajime gives Tooru is enough to put him in a grave and send secondhand chills down your spine.

“Sorry, sorry, don’t hit me again! Your hands are pointy and jabby now, it’s hard to get used to.”

Ignoring that,

“Hajime and I already understand each other, we have to put up with you all day.”

“True,” Tooru is completely unbothered by that comment, “I did see a romcom where the two main characters had to kiss at the end, they ended up swapping places like that.”

You don’t like that he casually suggests this with such an innocent look on his features.

“That sounds stupid, watch better movies.”

Hajime grunts out, and you’ll admit that kissing Hajime would be nice, but under normal circumstances preferably. You don’t particularly want to kiss yourself as Hajime.

“I appreciate all your knowledge in films that have body swaps in them Tooru, but this isn’t a romcom, or a movie.”

You sigh, and Tooru hums thoughtfully.

“Sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He sits upright with ease, sliding off the couch and pocketing his phone,

“Anyways, I’ve got more practice to do. I’ll try not to be too hard on you tomorrow, now that I know you’ve swapped with that brute over there. Ciao!”

Tooru ducks out of the living room and out the Iwaizumi household before Hajime can assault him, and good thing, he probably would’ve had some bruises from your ‘jabby’ and ‘pointy’ hands.

With Tooru’s quick escape, you’re left contemplating whether that suggestion would actually work or not, risking glances to Hajime across the room.

A/N: not me ending a chapter on a juicy bit again afjknddm, anyways im posting this at an ungodly time but i hope everyone enjoys!

taglist: @cybergovl @babybellecheese @keijikunn @168-cm-png @sexy0android @cuddlesslut @bumbledunce

#haikyuu!!#hq!!#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime/reader #haikyuu reader insert #iwaizumi hajime fic #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader

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rikorene · 4 years

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𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐚𝐮) // ushijima wakatoshi [reader insert]

[ a/n : hajhajdjahjh. sometimes i look at the number of ppl reading this series and think of how much y’all like to hurt yourself by indulging in angst. like damnnn, same. thank u guys so much for the support hhhhh. hope u enjoy!! ]

[ without you i. (part 1) // without you ii. (part 2) ]

warning : angst, mentions of toxic relationships.

note: this is completely irrelevant to the main plot, just a story of what would happen if ushijima never initiated the break up in their first year of highschool and what would happen if they continue being together.

based off the song ‘quiet room by ewe’ i recommend listening to this cover of the song hehe.

the room was dull, in your shared apartment unit the two of you silently ate the dinner you made hours before he got home. it was dry, tasted bland on your tongue even though you had herbs and spices in the recipe. the only sounds that you could hear was the quiet chewing of food and the clanking of silverware on the platter.

you've known ushijima wakatoshi since your middle school days, you found him quite attractive and warm despite his stoic and cold demeanor that he displayed on the outside. you were even surprised that he had confessed to you in your third year of middle school under a cherry blossom tree in spring.

you could still remember how the light shone in his eyes, how a soft hint of pink dusted his cheeks when he uttered out the words of how he had liked you for your warm and cheerful personality that never failed to make him smile. you could almost smell the cherry blossoms that bloomed during that day. but, it was all in the past now.

in ushijima's point of view, he wanted to run away; away from what ever this was called. he found it difficult to be in a relationship like this. he's a volleyball player, a professional volleyball player. often leaving for days just to train and go to tournaments. in the 6 years of their relationship, he was never the one to speak up.

he kept quiet the entire time. but that didn't mean he didn't make decisions for himself. guilt was chipping away every inch of his being, seeing you try to work things out for the two of you even if it was helpless. but you didn't want to see the truth, you often turned a blind eye for the sake of what ever you held onto.

a thin thread, almost on the brink of snapping.

it was past midnight when wakatoshi finally came home, and he found you you were waiting at the table patiently for your lover. it was as if he didn't come home late and made you wait for hours.

'12:17 am'

he dropped his things on the sofa and went to the dining area, going to you to give you a kiss on the cheek. you smiled at him tiredly, you were sleepy and starving. but you refused to start eating without him.

he went to the other side of the table and said his thanks, you followed. the two of you began eating the cold food but made no comment of how bland it tasted on your tongues.

in the middle of eating, a tear escaped your eye, then another until tears streamed down your face. ushijima looked at you as he continued eating, making no comment of how your tears fell on the table.

"does it always have to be like this?" you let out a choked sob, refusing to stop chewing. it was irritating on your tongue making you want to throw it up.

"you'll get used to it soon." ushijima replied in a monotone voice with a stoic expression, setting his utensils down he stood up and went to your side of the table, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, as if hugging you from behind as you continued to sob.

finally, a sound.

that night, in your shared bed you couldn't sleep you shifted uncomfortably under the covers and ushijima noticed the change. he turned to face you, making you stop in your movements and stared at him, he sighed and pulled you close, hugging you as he stroked your hair.

"let's go out, hm?"

the two of you went out at 3 am. going to a quiet playground and sat on the swings, it was the first time in a while where he was the one who intiated in taking you out. you kicked the ground at your feet, softly pushing yourself.

you remembered the times in highschool where you would knock on his door at 12 am and sneak out to a nearby convinience store and go to playgrounds like these. the memory of you and him first time sneaking out made you smile, you remembered how he found it ridiculous to sneak out when the two of you were going to see each other at school anyway. but at the same time, the two of you had goofed around the playground and was chased away by a stray dog, making the two of you laugh at your idiocy.

but at the same time, you both had it rough. ushijima wanted to focus on volleyball, it meant everything to him while you wanted to settle down, become someone that you can be proud of. your dreams clashed with ushijima's and you had to give up on yours for the sake of ushijima's. now that you were an adult, the two of you were not on your best terms, it's been like this for years now. an endless cycle of heartbreak. ushijima got used to it and kept quiet about it, you just refused to face the truth.

"we used to sneak out at times like these, right wakatoshi?"

ushijima hummed in response, smiling softly at how you would climb up and down, smiling at him happily as you constantly made a fool of yourself just to see him smile. you would drag him to the convenience store to buy food or ice cream and eat it at the playground near your school. it was weird, a different kind of weird, and he liked it.

he wanted to laugh at how things turned out now. it was a futile attempt at love, but he did not want to make your sacrifices in vain, so he swallowed it all up and refused to speak. maybe it was for the best, maybe.

the creaking of the seesaw gave you both a nostalgic kind of comfort that made your hearts skip a beat, you stared at the starry night sky deeply and saw a dark abyss, you wanted it to swallow you up and never return. but it was ridiculous. you just wanted to disappear. you looked at ushijima, he was staring into nothing, softly kicking his feet off the ground to move the swing back and forth.

you stood up and went over to him, grabbing his hands and smiling softly, he snapped out of it and stared at you, his eyes slightly sparkling like the stars in the skies. you took his hands in yours and began to playfully pull him with soft giggles towards your shared apartment where he had followed you inside with a smile. you accidentally tripped on something as you walked backwards to your bed and fell on it, ushijima falling with you.

you laid there out of breath as ushijima buried his face in your chest, pulling you close.

"i love you." he muttered.

it was a lie.

you just smiled in response and stroked his hair. with tears welling up on the corner of your eyes, ushijima couldn't see the tears. but he knew that it was streaming down your face.

"i love you too."

you looked to your windowsill and saw your small potted plants ushijima bought you one day when he came home from a game.

'oh? it's wilting away.'

it was a rainy day, the two of you sitting on the couch watching a show that was playing, you both were sitting next to each other. not even bothering to cuddle up and wrap your arms around one another, no, it wouldn't work. you knew that.

even if ushijima was staring at the tv blankly, his focus was on something else. he thought of what the outcome would be if he had severed the strings that connected the both of you, would you be happy then? would it change things for the both of you? maybe.

you knew that ushijima was in deep thought but didn't bother to point it out, instead you just pretended not to see and just laughed dryly at what a character said on tv.

"let's take a bath." he said.

you looked at ushijima and saw how bags formed at the bottom of his eyes due to the lack of sleep that his thoughts were causing. you looked the same as well, your hair untidy and eyes puffy. you smiled at him and agreed.

"okay."

the two of you silently sat in the bathtub, his back was facing you as you washed his hair. the sound of the water dripping from the tap and the sound of your scrubbing were the only things that could be heard. ushijima's thoughts were a mess as you attempted to ease him from his thoughts by massaging his scalp, but your efforts were in vain, the thoughts just kept on clouding his vision. then a drip came from his face, bouncing against the water.

at first, he thought that it was water, but it kept on spilling.

he was crying. you knew that but didn't point it out. ushijima was hurting by his own thoughts of what he could do to make it all better, he thought of what would become of the two of you as the time passed. it was getting difficult for the two of you and you both knew that well. you were aware of how you tried to piece all the broken things together just to be broken down once more.

it reminded him of the time where you had attempted to glue back the broken pieces of the pot of your favorite plant back together, but it just broke down even more.

"why does this hurt so much?" he asked, pulling up his knees against his own chest and leaning forward to lean his head against them, making you stop all your movements and stare at him sadly.

"maybe it was never meant for me and you after all." you replied, the truth spilling out of your mouth, like how the water overflowed the tub and spilled on the cold tiles of your bathroom floor. you leaned over to pat his hair as he let the tears fall silently.

after an hour, you both got out of the tub and wrapped yourselves in towels, by then ushijima had no will to dry himself off after wearing clothes and sat on the bed. you let out a sigh and grabbed a dry towel, you went in front of him and started to rub the towel against his hair, his head and eyes casted down and stared at your feet. he took notice of the small bruises at your feet, knowing you were a clumsy person, you had probably kept tripping over something in the apartment.

ushijima remembered the time where the two of you had camped out on the rooftop when the two of you were in your second year of highschool, remembering that the two of you were barely holding on at that point in time, he remembered how you pointed out the stars and told him all about it. times like those made the flame in his heart start up once more. but even if you did those things once more, he wouldn't feel anything. just a dull ache in his chest. of course, you knew that.

"if i let go now, would you even bother telling me the truth?"

his head raised up to meet your eyes. you just stared back at him, mirroring the same emotionless eyes that he held. he lowered his head, and you got your answer. with a sigh, you leaned down and pressed a kiss against his cheek, you let the kiss linger against his skin a bit longer and he reached up to gently hold your cheeks and pressed a kiss against your lips.

you found it funny how he tasted like mint.

it was a cloudy day. you were standing in front of the door with a suitcase in hand as ushijima stared at the floor. you let out a sigh and softly smiled at him, you reached a hand up and cupped his cheek with one hand making him lean into your warm touch and kissed your palm. that made you giggle a bit.

"you never told me the truth in the end." you said, finally pointing something out. he had liked it when you finally stopped turning a blind eye at everything. he looked at you, smiling sadly as if offering an apology. he was about to speak until you pressed a finger against his lips.

"just shut up and wait for me. okay?"

it was a lie.

and this time, you both accepted the lie that the other had offered. with one final kiss against his lips, you left, closing the door gently. and it was once quieter around his apartment.

but he liked the silence.

looking around, he saw that you left your journal on purpose, he knew what was written in it. it had plans where you wanted to travel, a future plan for your wedding, and a few sketches here and there. yet even if he knew what was inside of the journal, he still opened it and there was a yellow sticky note on the first page.

'never forget. わたしは、あなたを愛しています. (i love you) '

he smiled softly at the note and closed the journal, placing it on the coffee table and went to the kitchen, beginning to cook. his mind slightly wandering around.

'i wonder when.' with a scoff, he washed his hands as an attempt to wash away the guilt and sorrow.

[ i am: hurting. huhu ily ushijima ]

#without you #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushiwaka #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu au #haikyuu fanfiction #reader insert #haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!#ushijima wakatoshi angst #angst #ok mayhaps im crying

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