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blossomwritesthings · 1 year

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: dark academia college au. nonidol!hyunjin. enemies to lovers // academic rivals. angst. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. kindaa toxic relationship between hyunjin and reader since they're enemies in uni. ANGST!! reader comes from a poor background and hyunjin is the uni dean's prodigy son. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 10.6k (enjoy you filthy animals 😈)

summary: ever since you started studying at korean national university of arts in seoul, hwang hyunjin, the other top student of the school and the dean's son, has been an absolute thorn in your ass. although, it turns out that not all thorns are necessarily bad.

18+ warnings: dom!hyunjin x sub!reader. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends). fingering. dirty thoughts/fantasies are mentioned. degradation (whore, slut, bitch, etc). pet names (baby girl, sweetheart, doll face, etc). LOTS of hair pulling. BIG ownership/possession kink. breeding kink!!!. overstimulation. orgasm control. nipple/breast play. lots of dirty talk. subspace. loud sex. manhandling. humiliation kink. exhibitionism (fucking in a public library).

a/n: first of all, i'd just like to give a BIG shoutout to my dear friend @ahactress, for giving me the initial prompt to this about a month ago haha- without your help, I wouldn't be here right now honey!! 🤭💙 also, i'm sending all my love to my beautiful bestie @h0p3l3ssromantic, for encouraging me with her pretty words and her endless love... girl, you RULE and ilysm!!! 😫❤️ I don't know if it's public knowledge around these parts, but my dms on all my sns platforms are ALWAYS open for ya'll to spew your ramblings about my work haha - hmu on twt babes, I'm always down to chat~ ✨

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The moment you saw the dark, heavy clouds swirling low in the sky as you walked to your Survey of Humanities class, you knew that the day was going to be a shitty one. Already, you had woken up with a raging headache from the all-nighter you had pulled the day before to finish all of your homework for the following week.

Besides, it was a Monday too, and you fucking hated Mondays.

For one thing, the start of the new week always meant being bombarded with loads of assignments from the four classes you were taking. Being a junior with a Liberal Arts major was not as easy as everyone thought it was — and you constantly felt like you could never catch up on all of the homework.

With two formal art classes, one on charcoal drawings and the other on watercolor techniques, and then two upperclassman Humanities classes, your schedule was packed with studying time. Sometimes, it was hard to even eat during the day, since you were so busy with your schoolwork.

But there was no way around it, no excuses that could be made.

You either continued to stay at the top of your classes, as one of the best students in your grade for your graduation year, or you didn’t.

Your mother didn’t sacrifice everything she had for you to fail so horribly at university.

So you were okay with the stress and deadlines. Because you wanted to make both her and yourself proud.

And yeah, maybe you also wanted to prove to your classmates that you could do it.

You especially wanted to brag about your success to a certain man…

Hwang Hyunjin.

He was slated to graduate in your same year and was studying Technical Art. And holy shit— was he an insufferable ass. Unfortunately, since the two of you shared such close majors, you had found yourself in one too many classes with him during your time at the Korean National University of Arts in Seoul. It also didn’t help that he was coined as one of the #1 students in the entire school, and did everything in his power to make everyone aware of this fact.

Especially you.

If he earned just two points more than you on an exam in the same class that you were taking together, he’d nonchalantly wave the white paper in front of you after the exam period, taunting you with his sly tongue and that cruel grin of his.

Most of the time, you managed to ignore his wicked teasing, sticking to yourself and your small group of study buddies. But on the rare occasion that he did get under your skin, you’d snap irrevocably and usually land yourself in the Dean’s office.

But of course, Hyunjin was also there because — news flash — he was the son of the fucking Dean of the university.

Usually, the meetings after your blowups were casual and spoken in soft voices, with Dean Hwang recounting the school’s long integrity policy to you, which you had already memorized in the back of your head after your third visit to his office. The entire time the Dean reminded you of how your ‘behavior was uncalled for in the situation,’ Hyunjin would be standing in the corner of his father’s office, arms folded across his chest and canting his head to the side as he studied you with a pleased little devilish sneer on his face.

After every single one of the meetings, he’d always try to catch up to you outside of his father’s office. This usually landed in you cursing him out under your breath and telling him to fuck off before you retreated into the shadows of one of the many hallways.

And as it just so happened, your Survey of Humanities class also had a certain raven-haired man constantly sitting in the farthest seat from the front of the lecture hall.

It was almost comical how good-looking he was, coupled with his genius brain. Because as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was incredibly smart… in both the arts and all other forms of academics. He aced every single quiz and exam he was given, got 100s on every technical art research essay he wrote, and was involved in practically every club there was on campus.

The girls of your grade fawned all over him, and even the freshmen were weak to his looks whenever he’d pass them in the hallway. He looked right out of an early 2000s fashion magazine, with his model-like physic, long, shaggy black hair that perfectly framed his face and curled at the nape of his neck, not to mention the expensive designer clothes he was always seen in.

You had never seen him dress like the other guys of his same age — had never seen him clad in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a worn oversized graphic tee. Instead, he rolled up to the curb of the university in his cherry red 2023 Rolls Royce, dressed to the nines in fitted coats, light-washed designer jeans, and crisp white button-downs.

Hwang Hyunjin had been the school’s ultimate heartthrob for as long as you could remember, and you had heard rumors of the kind of things he did with his lovers — taking his girlfriends out to expensive restaurants in the heart of the city, before bringing them back to his luxurious apartment and fucking them late into the night. Usually, you tended to ignore the dating and sex part of your arch nemeses' life, and instead just focused on beating him at his own game of academics.

And during that early Friday morning in the middle of October, as you strolled through the doors of the lecture hall and your eyes scanned over the students already seated, you caught sight of him.

Dressed in a casual, brown turtleneck and dark-washed jeans, he looked like he had just walked straight out of an autumn edition of GQ Men. He was seated in his usual place, legs crossed and hands busy scribbling away notes on his iPad. As you floated beside him and towards your seat at the very back of the hall, you caught the scent of him — a mix of earthy musk and dark roasted coffee beans.

He didn’t pay you the time of day as you flitted past him and took out your notebooks once you were seated down. Thankfully, he seemed to be choosing the route of ignoring you for the day, much to your relief.

Soon, the professor strode into the lecture hall and began the class. For a while, he droned on about the midterm that all of the students had taken the week before, and how he was impressed with the class’ results. “Although, two students in particular outshined everyone else,” he began, his eyes scanning the lecture hall until they landed on Hyunjin seated just two rows before you. “Hyunjin, excellent work — it’s quite rare that I see a student score a 100 on the midterm,” then his focus was floating upward and landing on you. “Y/N, you’re short essay for the midterm was superb, and your choice of art analysis was a very unique one for sure.”

Just as the professor was focusing back on the rest of the course material, you could sense someone’s gaze trained on you. Staring forward, you caught a glimpse of him shooting you a snarky grin. You glared daggers into his skull, just wishing that he’d get shot in the foot and keel over in pain at that moment.

He always liked to gloat when he got a higher score than you on the tests, and you both knew that he had done better on the test overall — since the professor only mentioned his 100 and not yours. But apparently, your midterm essay was a hell of a lot better than his.

Sticking out your tongue at him playfully, you rolled your eyes before folding your arms across your chest and turning your attention back on the slides that the professor was ticking through. Hyunjin got under your skin so much he sometimes felt like a fucking disease — burrowed so deeply inside your veins, it was almost impossible to cut out the hatred.

“For this week’s assignment, you guys will be paired up into groups of two to create a joint presentation on the topic of ‘The Descent into Madness,’” As soon as you heard the professor mention splitting the class into groups, you felt your heart leap inside your chest. You only hoped that you wouldn’t be paired up with him. “Using your textbooks as a guideline, I want all of you to choose one specific piece of art from any period you want and conduct deep research into the mad aspects of it — dive into as much detail about the formal elements as you’d like, but make sure to follow the grading rubric and cite all academic sources. I’ve posted the list of paired groups on the bulletin board up here near the projector, so make sure to check it before you leave class today.”

You tuned out all other information the professor gave about the week’s assignment, too focused on seeing who you were paired with. As soon as he dismissed class, you were shooting up from your seat and hoisting your heavy tote bag across your shoulder.

Flitting down the stairway, you made it to the bulletin board before all of the other students did. They were idling around because no one gave two shits about who they were paired with. No one except for you.

“Please, please, please—” You prayed in a whispered tone under your breath as your eyes scanned the matched columns of students. When you came upon your name and saw who was next to it, it felt like the ground at your feet had opened right up and sucked you in entirely. “Fuck my life.” Heart dropping into the pit of your stomach, your palm squeezed a little tighter around the strap of your bag.

“Oh shit— looks like the professor decided to give you a fighting chance by pairing you up with the best student in the entire school.” You heard Hyunjin’s silky voice say from somewhere behind you.

Swinging around on your heels, you caught a glimpse of his sardonic, wide smirk, as his eyes scanned the look of sheer anger on your face. Giving a dry, humorless chuckle, he shoved his hands into his pockets and canted his head to the side in a quizzical kind of way.

“We’re only going to ace this project because of me— and let’s be clear here, I’m the better writer out of the two of us.” You said in a low voice, pointing an accusing finger at him in utter disgust. You could feel your brows pulling together from the rage that was building up inside of you. And all from the thought of being forced to work with him.

“Yeah, but I’m the better test taker.”

“Fuck you.”

Hyunjin chuckled wickedly, the tip of his blush pink tongue coming out and wetting a corner of his plush bottom lip. “Oh honey, I’m sure you wish you could.”

Already, you could tell that he was egging you on. Trying to get your goad so that you’d explode and be dragged to the Dean’s office. So that he could stare down at you with that same smug look on his face as his precious little daddy rattled off the university’s code of conduct.

Well fuck that bullshit.

Seeing too much red, you decided to excuse yourself from the equation before you said something horrible that got you sent into the Dean’s office again or even worse — kicked from the class.

“I’ll see you on Monday night at ten in the library,” you said in finality, squinting your eyes up at him and just wishing you could wring your hands around his perfect little neck. “Don’t be late.”

“I don’t take orders from you, sweetheart.”

“For now you sure fucking do.”

Then you were turning around and pushing out of the lecture hall, practically running down the corridor as fast as you could, heart pounding in your chest because… what the hell were you going to do?

That entire weekend leading up to the Monday night that you planned to spend with Hyunjin, you just about lost your mind over the worry of it all. Would he continue to be an asshole to you the entire time? Would he work well with you and compromise on things? How would everything go?

You were so stressed about the entire thing that you practically drove your roommate Felix insane with annoyance. Late Sunday morning, when you were making circles around your living room couch as you stressed about everything, he finally burst out in a loud outcry.

“Y/N! You seriously need to take a chill pill, you’re going to run holes right into the fucking carpet!” He said in an exasperated tone, muting the show that he was watching on the large flatscreen TV.

Peering up at him with wide, guilty eyes, you offered him a meek smile. “I’m sorry, Lix— it’s just… you know how much I hate Hyunjin and I—”

Felix rolled his eyes at you, completely fed up with your bullshit at that moment. “Yes, yes, I know. You’ve told me about a million times at this point. But like… don’t let it get to you, yeah? Just go out there and do your very best,” his eyes flitted back to the TV as he un-muted his show. “I mean… how bad could working with Hwang Hyunjin really be? Besides you, he’s one of the top students in the entire school.”

But he didn’t know Hyunjin like you did.

No one did.

They didn’t see the cruel side to him, the mean side.

They didn’t hear the words he’d mumble to you with venom after a big test or the taunting he’d throw your way if you one-upped him in some way.

Others didn’t see the dark looks he’d give you after classes or the way he’d practically talk behind your back each time you passed him in the hallway — whispering to his groupies and making all the guys chuckle heartily.

So yeah, working with him was a pretty fucking big deal.

Nonetheless, you took Felix’s advice and tried to relax as much as you could before the start of the new week. You studied the material that you wanted to research for the project, deciding to focus on Hamlet’s Ophelia for your analysis.

And if Hyunjin didn’t want to go with that character, well… too bad.

By the time Monday night rolled around, you felt more prepared than ever before and stepped into the Library’s main doors with settled ease. The university’s library was your favorite place on campus and had been the location for many of your long night study sessions over your time in school. With its dark gothic architecture outside and its sweeping gables, it was a true sight to behold. Not to mention the cozy atmosphere of the interior — all of the cozy nooks and crannies of the place, filled with warm candlelight and large chandeliers and settees made everything feel so mysterious and relaxing.

You strode through the isles filled with books, noticing how it was almost empty of any other student. That’s why you liked coming to the place late at night because it was relatively devoid of life and incredibly quiet. And you liked the quiet — it made it easy for you to focus on your studies. Finally, you stumbled upon a spacious table tucked into the very corner of one part of the place on the upper floor, with a large bay window just in front of the wooden table.

With a glance outside the pane, you noticed how the darkening sky had opened up to reveal a sheet of heavy rain — it pelted down on the few students that were passing by the outside of the library on the sidewalk there, as they ran for cover. Methodically, you brought out your supplies — booting up your laptop and positioning your notebook and pens just so.

Checking your phone, the screen flashed that it was fifteen minutes past ten o’clock already. Was he not even planning on showing up? Was he going to completely bail on you and instead take you down by sabotaging the entire thing?

As you sat down in one of the cushiony, velvet-lined chairs, your mind began to race with all of the possibilities of what Hyunjin might be stewing up to take you down.

Then, almost like your thoughts had summoned him, you heard footsteps at your back and turned to see Hyunjin rounding the corner of the tall bookshelves that were lined on either side of your chosen table. With one glance at him, you noticed the soaked-through fabric of his tan coat and the way his dark hair curled around the nape of his neck with moisture. He must’ve gotten caught in the rain and that’s why he was late.

“I thought you were going to bail on me entirely.”

Giving you a swarthy look, he plopped down into the seat just across from you and threw his heavy book bag atop the table. “Good evening to you as well.” He grumbled, slipping off his coat and showcasing the wetness hidden just underneath there. His light, cream-colored button-down was almost sheer from the rainwater… highlighting his muscular shoulder blades and the tips of his pecks.

“Didn’t you know it was supposed to rain heavily tonight?”

Not even paying you another glance, he focused on pulling out his supplies. “I’m not the fucking weatherman, I don’t regularly check up on shit like that.”

“Well, you should— maybe you wouldn’t ruin so many of your precious, rich boy clothes if you did.”

At that, his hands stopped moving and he stared up at you with slitted eyes. Giving your own choice of outfit a long once over, the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Well damn— are you jealous or something?” You weren’t particularly dressed up, opting for a comfortable pair of black sweatpants and a warm violet turtleneck top.

“Let’s just focus on getting to work.” You shot back, hands typing away at your computer keyboard. “Did you figure out a piece you want to analyze?”

“Yeah, Hamlet’s Ophelia.”

His words were silky and smooth against your ears, but his answer is what got you shooting your gaze up to his again. Mouth dropping open a little bit in surprise, you cleared your throat from the sudden quietness between you. “Oh— uhm, I was thinking the same,” you began, opening up the Word document that you had already started working on that past weekend. “It would probably be a good idea to study Hamlet’s character too since he's the catalyst of her problems.”

“No, he isn’t. She already had them to begin with — he just heightened their outcome.”

You were so taken aback by his comment, that it took a few seconds for your brain to process everything. But when it finally clicked, you were gaping up at him in astonishment. “I’m sorry, what? You’re going to blame her for the fact that Hamlet was the sole cause of it all?” Your voice was steadily rising, as you began to get irritated by his suggestion.

Hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly, as he scribbled down a few things in his notebook. “I mean, yeah. She already had a history of mental disorders, her death was bound to happen anyway.” He matched your tone, words growing louder and ringing out across the small expanse of the library that the two of you were in.

“I seriously cannot believe you right now.” You began, shaking your head in anger as you tried to focus on your bright computer screen again. But his argument just rubbed you the wrong way entirely, and you found yourself speaking up again. “I didn’t realize how much of a fucking misogynist you were. But oh, wait— it’s perfectly clear now if the way you treat me is anything to go off of.”

“I’m not a misogynist, Y/N.” The way his tone curled around the sound of your name did something funny to the depths of your soul. He had never called your name outright like that, never addressed you head-on. And it was both weird and oddly satisfying. “All I’m saying is that her descent into madness was pretty warranted since she was in an already heightened state of emotions.”

You gave him a deep glare, tilting your head to the side in annoyance. “Just say you hate women, it’s okay, Hyunjin. I won’t bug you about it.”

“Like hell, you won’t.” He mumbled under his breath, long fingers typing out something on his computer.

And that was enough to completely set you off.

There were no other students around, no professors to tell you off, and no Deans to harp on you about correct student conduct.

“Seriously, what the hell is your problem?! You’re so fucking annoying and a total piece of shit. I honestly have no idea how you’re at the top of the school when all you do is belittle others!” This time, you were shouting outright. Throwing him an ominous glare and shutting your computer with a resounding thud.

Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, lengthy arms folded across his chest as the rain pelted against the misty window just at his back. “Oh, and like you’re any better? You always love to shove your accomplishments in everyone else’s faces— you ever stop to think how that makes others feel?” He was yelling now too, stroking a hand through his long locks that were steadily dripping with tiny droplets of rainwater.

Shaking your head in disappointment, you took in a resounding deep breath. “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew you’d be an asshole the entire time and I knew we wouldn’t get any work done,” as you said the words, you were already gathering up your things, shoving them into your bag, and leveling him with a cold stare. “So let’s just forget it - this - okay? Just… work on it by yourself and then we can compile our info together the day of and—”

“Sit down, Y/N.”

The way his command slipped out from between his lips in a low, gravelly voice shook something loose deep within your very being. For a moment, you almost felt compelled to listen to him. Like under a mystical enchantment, your limbs wanted to move on their own accord and seat yourself down again. But the rational part of your brain overtook all other thoughts as you stood your ground and hovered just next to the table.

“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not your daddy— you don’t have the authority of the Dean.”

For the last few moments, he hadn’t been looking at you, eyes instead trained on his computer still. Almost like, the entire ordeal didn’t bother him that much. Like you were a minor inconvenience to him in the grand scheme of his rich, privileged life.

But all at once, he was tipping his head towards the high rafters of the library’s ceiling, stare catching with yours. The stormy look you saw there, dancing around in his brown irises, forced your heart to leap in the pit of your throat.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“I’m never going to listen to you, so tough luck, fucker.”

Taking in a deep breath, his entire body shuddering with the motion, he held your gaze and motioned with a tilt of his head to the seat in front of him that you had just gotten up from. “Sit. Down.”

And like a single crack suddenly appearing in a delicate vase, your mind was losing all conscious thought and you were moving without any other thought. His seething, low tone overtook your entire system, his focus on you sending a shock of shivers up the length of your spine again and again, unrelenting.

“What?” You asked, noticing the surprised expression on his face from the way that you had fucking listened to him once, seated in your chair again. “I was tired of hearing your stupid demands.”

Hyunjin flipped through a few pieces of paper in his notebook before he pushed it your way. “Give that a look over, it’s the notes I took on Ophelia over the weekend.” The idea of him studying for the project just like you had done forced your mind to run rampant with all kinds of thoughts. Like, was he also stressing out about the meeting like you had been doing?

“I already told you— we’re not working together.”

“For Christ’s sake, just give it up!” Hyunjin exclaimed in a loud voice, throwing his hands up into the air in mock defeat. “You act like this is the deciding project of our grade— it’s a fucking weekly assignment. All we have to do is our best, which will be pretty damn good if we’re both working on it.”

“So then you admit that I’m a good student.” You raised an eyebrow his way, fingers slowly taking ahold of his notebook and playing with the edges of the paper.

Taking in a deep sigh, he pointed at the notebook in front of you. “Just focus— okay? I want to get as much work done as possible tonight.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me if we get a bad grade because we rush it.” You said, finally raising the white flag of surrender and taking in the contents of his notebook. The notes were detailed and insanely good, highlighting certain formal aspects of Ophelia’s character and the overarching themes of her madness. “Wow— this is… really good.” You said in a quiet voice, almost hoping that he wouldn’t hear it.

Rummaging through your nearby bag, you pulled out a pink highlighter to take some notes, and your chosen lollipop for the night, mango flavored. You liked to reward yourself with a fun treat of candy whenever you did late-night studying sessions since the sugar kept your energy levels high and helped to keep you focused. Ever since you were a little girl, you seemed to concentrate better when your mind wasn’t entirely on the content you were studying.

“I mean, I’m not coined as one of the school’s top students for nothing,” Hyunjin remarked in a sarcastic tone. You chose to ignore his comment and instead focus on his neat handwriting and the way his words fit in perfectly to the columns of the notebook paper.

Everything about him was perfect — from his looks to his academic success to his damn handwriting. Hell, what wasn’t he good at?

For one thing, being a nice fucking person.

And he seemingly couldn’t grasp the idea of how not to be an asshole to people he didn’t like.

Unfortunately, you were categorized in his list of people that he hated.

As you flipped to the next page in his notebook, your tongue swirled around the lollipop in your mouth. The sugary sweetness of the artificial mango flavor coated your tongue deliciously, and it awakened all of your senses in the best way possible. The minutes seemed to tick by, as you began to make notes based on Hyunjin’s research from his notebook, turning away from the paper and typing into the Word document that you had started for the project.

Faintly, in the back of your mind, you could hear Hyunjin’s soft inhales and exhales, as he focused on his research. All else was quiet in the library, what with it being completely void of life on a Monday at eleven at night. You could distinctly pick out the sounds of rainfall pitter-pattering just outside the large window behind Hyunjin’s seat, as the night drew on in a heavy mist of dew and moisture.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Hyunjin’s words were faint and broke you out of your daze of thought. You had been frantically writing down some of your critiques about Ophelia as a character, and your head shot up from your computer to catch a glimpse of him staring back at you.

You didn’t know how long he had been like that, sitting back in his chair, long, raven hair a wavy mess around his face and eyes a little bleary from a mixture of sheer exhaustion and that… darkness that you could never quite pinpoint. You had only ever seen him direct such swarthy looks at you, and that fact disheartened you a lot.

“I think the real question you should be asking is what’s not to hate about you.” You deadpanned, giving him a deep frown as you poked your lollipop into the corner of one of your cheeks, tucking it away for the moment.

Folding his arms across his chest in that abrasive way that he always did around you, he tilted his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, spill the tea.”

Taking in a deep breath to stave off your rising nerves and irritation with the man before you, you carded a few fingers through your hair. “To start with, you’re a complete and total asshole.”

“I think we’ve already touched on this point by now.”

His retort left you to stare daggers into his eyes, wishing someone would just come up behind him and slit his throat because you sure did want to at that moment. But you also supposed that the Dean of the university wouldn’t take a liking to you murdering his son.

“Secondly, you’re always stuck up and hard-headed and annoying and… and immature.”

Hyunjin blew out a deep, long whisper. “Damn, spare my ego some, will ya?”

But you weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon. He had started the engine of the train, and now you were rolling down the tracks of sheer rising anger and all of the pent-up rage that you had felt towards him for the past three years. “And you’re right okay? I am fucking jealous. I’m so jealous of you that I can’t breathe sometimes— you haven’t had to work a day in your life for your position, yet I’ve had to scrape by on my hands and knees, clawing— begging at life to grant me just one fucking break.” You weren't even yelling. Instead, the words just come out hushed and all too grave.

Like, if anyone else but him heard them, you’d crumble into a pile of ash and disintegrate into thin air, never to be seen again. Because it was fucking embarrassing, to be so affected by him still, even after all of these years.

He stayed silent, watching as you flayed your hands around in the air in your exasperation. You were fed up with your life and the hold that he had over it. You were finally at your breaking point and you had had enough.

And you think that at that moment, he had also seen and acknowledged that, staying silent to let all of the words spew out of you like an erupting volcano that had been bound to blow from the very start.

“But you? You get everything handed to you on a pretty, silver platter because your daddy is wealthy and you're drop-dead gorgeous and practically have the brain of a neuroscientist. Meanwhile, I was raised by a poor single mother in the slums of Seoul and the only way I got into this university in the first place is because I busted my ass throughout middle and high school to earn the top student’s place,” you pointed a finger between the two of you. Almost like, the tip of it was sharp enough, you could cut right through him. Blade tearing through sinew and flesh and bones. “And then you dare to come around these parts, acting like you own everything, trying to put me in my place. When in reality, you’re the one that needs to be put in your place. Someone needs to knock you down a few pegs, and I’ve always thought… why not me?”

For a moment, nothing else happens after that.

And irrationally, you’re suddenly afraid of him.

Of what he might do — what he might say and to whom — with this newfound information about you.

Hardly anyone at school knew about your personal life and struggles. You tended to stay to yourself and instead focus on your studies instead of going out to late-night parties or hitting up the local clubs. And you were an extremely private person, to begin with. You saw no point in pouring out your life's sob story to people you would never see again after four years.

But all at once, you wondered if Hwang Hyunjin was a dangerous man.

If he was someone who would use your personal information against you.

And if the last three years were anything to go off of, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Fuck— I shouldn’t have said all of that,” you grumbled, jamming your fingers into your eye sockets and scrubbing at your lids. “Just… forget all of this, yeah? Forget I said anything.” Then you were standing up from your seat for the second time that night, heart leaping in the pit of your chest as you once again gathered your things into your bag. “It’s late anyways. I should head home and keep studying for my other classes. We can meet up some other time for this, it’s not due til, what… Sunday? That gives us plenty of—”

“Y/N.” Just like before, the sound of your name on his tongue caused you to pause entirely, limbs halting their movement of shoving your computer into your bag. “Just— shut up, yeah?” His voice came out softer than you expected it would, forcing a shiver down the length of your spine.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call you what?”

“Y/N.”

“Why, because it makes you feel things?” He asked in a gravelly voice. You were avoiding even looking at him at that moment, hands a little shaky as you anxiously started to suck on your lollipop again, rolling it around in the corner of your cheek. “What are you so afraid of?”

“You, okay?! It’s always been you!” Your outburst was a lot louder than you expected it to be, ringing across the space between you and echoing in the far distance of the library’s upper-level floor.

A beat of silence lapsed between the two of you, and you trained your gaze on a corner of the room, studying the small dust bunny that stood there, completely still and lifeless. In that moment, you could relate to it quite a bit. Lost and confused. Wanting to move away, but not being able to for some weird reason.

Hyunjin’s old wooden settee creaked in the silence, as he shifted in his position. “To be honest, I’m scared of you too.” And just like that, your head was snapping his way and your eyes were widening in surprise. “For one, I’m scared of that stupid thing.” With his dark eyes, he motioned towards your mouth. To the lollipop that you were dutifully sucking on, in and out, in and out. You stopped altogether when you realized why he had been so quiet during your studying session. He hadn’t been studying — he had been focusing on you, on the candy in your mouth. Feeling self-conscious about it, you took it out of your mouth and laid it down on the table. “And I’m scared of how you make me feel— crazed out of my mind, all of the time. Like a sick fucking plague, you inhabit my everything… from the moment I wake to the moment I ease, you’re all I can think about, all I can dream about. And I hate it so fucking much that it kills me a little bit more every single day.”

“Hyunjin, I—”

His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull, head tipping back in delight as his lips parted just slightly. “Yes— fuck, say it again.”

“Say… what?”

“You know.”

Heart leaping wildly in your throat, and broken butterflies waning in the depths of your stomach, your mouth was moving on its own accord. “Hyunjin.”

Like a trigger being pulled back from a gun and flitting the weapon into action, the bullet was shot across the distance between the two of you. And the bullet was your words — you calling out his name.

In an instant, he was a flurry of motion before you. All designer clothes soaked from rainwater and long, wavy hair that still had droplets of water at the tips. He was a flash of milky skin hidden underneath a sheer, wet button-down. The faint, waning moonlight shining through the window pane cast an ominous, angelic-like halo around his tall, built frame.

And by the time you could breathe again, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Pinned up against the nearest tall bookshelf that reached up into the height of the library's ceiling. One strong hand pinning your two hands against the wood above your head, while the other was positioned just unearth your chin, holding your jaw bone and stroking the flesh there with a gentle thumb.

“Now tell me you feel nothing at all, tell me you fucking hate me with your entire being, that you’ll always hate me, and that you think I’m a deprived cunt who needs to be murdered ruthlessly in front of everyone I love.” His words were hushed, their meaning brutal. His face was so close to yours, that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. Leaning into you, he drove his middle a little closer to the part of your legs.

Breath catching painfully between your windpipes and the lump in your throat, you stared up at him with blurry vision. Your attention was growing fuzzy at the edges, as you could do nothing more but hone in on… him. Subconsciously, you could feel the mango sweetness of your lollipop coating your tongue again and again as you swallowed.

“I—I hate you so fucking much, Hwang Hyunjin.”

He pressed into you a little further, breathing in your scent and closing his eyes as his head tipped close to one part of your neck. Mouth hovering over the shell of your ear, he whispered, “Say it again, sweetheart, with a little more passion this time.”

“I… I hate you so much, I can’t function with the thought of you existing in the same lifetime as me.”

You felt him moving against you then, hand moving away from your jaw and coming around one of your hips, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your black sweatpants. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, sweetheart…” He started, mouth hovering over that space just behind your ear, warm breath fanning against your exposed gooseflesh there. “I won’t hurt you— it was never my intention in the first place. It was… just a fun game to me, to toy around with you. But I never wanted to actually fucking hurt you.”

You could feel your mind and heart racing in tandem, going a mile a minute, as you took in all of his words. Because what, the actual fuck? What was he saying? And why was he saying it? And why did you feel yourself crumbling from it all, your resolve breaking down into dust and getting whisked away to the future of Neverland?

“I never meant to make you cry,” He said slowly, pulling away from your face just a tiny bit to gauge your reaction to his confession. You gaped up at him, completely speechless in your unadulterated wonder. “Sure, I wanted to make you cry— but not in the cruel kind of way… not in the way that most people would like to do.”

His insinuation, his innuendo there, jumbled something around deep inside of your spirit. And you could practically feel your knees buckling underneath you from the reality of it all. From the fact that he was never truly set out to cause you permanent damage. And so far, he hadn’t. All he had done was make an ass out of himself and be a continual thorn in your side. But he wasn’t necessarily entirely cruel, and you never truly suspected that he’d do something catastrophically damaging.

“But all you have to do is tell me— tell me you never thought about me or dreamed about me or wondered about me, and I’ll be gone forever. You’ll never hear, or see me again. It’ll be like I never existed in the first place and I—”

“I can’t fathom a life without you in it,” you suddenly blurted out, already feeling the hint of crimson blooming beneath your cheeks and at the tip of your nose. You peered up at him, staring into those depthless, chocolate-brown eyes, reading the dancing emotions there. “Sure, I might despise your guts at times, but… I also think you’re a pretty amazing guy. And… I have to admit that sometimes, I do think about you when I’m alone, at night, and laying in my bed.”

His hand clutched a little tighter at your hip then, his fingers intertwining with yours and continuing to hoist your arms up and above your head. “Oh yeah? What do you imagine when you think about me so late into the night?” He rasped out, the sound of his voice grating against your ears and sending flames to burst across the entirety of your veins.

“Your face, mostly— how your lips would feel and how you’d taste and what you’d sound like if—”

After that, you didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence.

He was honing in on you like a vulture to its prey, moving with such swiftness — like a phantom in the night, like a monster hidden underneath the bed, like a selkie in the depths of the ocean.

As it turns you, your dreams about him were accurate.

Because his plush lips did feel like pure heaven.

They pushed against yours, his mouth fitting atop yours like something that was carved into the universe — something that was almost meant to be. He was devouring you whole — heart and mind and soul and body.

And with each press of his silky lips, you fell down the hole of darkness and heat just a little bit more. Then the tip of his tongue was poking out and tracing the line of your mouth and you fell into him, fingers clawing at his that still had your arms held up high above your head, desperately searching for purchase as your legs threatened to give out underneath you.

When his tongue plowed into the small part between your lips, you let out a breathless moan. The kind that had been hidden deep, buried, and un-satiated for so fucking long. By the time he was tasting you, his hands had released your arms and you were scrambling for something to hold. Desperately, in your haste of arousal and temptation, you were clutching at the cool, wet fabric of his cream-colored button-down, holding on for dear life as his hands tightened around your waist and hoisted you up against the bookshelf further.

Your spine crammed into the wooden shelves there, as you wrapped your legs around his torso, yanking him closer with each passioned kiss that he gave you. Again and again, he drew those same, sinful sounds out of you. Just like all of the times before, he was playing a sick kind of game with you. But this time, it wasn’t all that bad. This time, you were quite enjoying yourself.

As your parted legs held his hips close to your frame, you could feel the hardness there, in the center of him. Just aching to be released. And suddenly, you came to terms with the fact that the wetness between your legs was rapidly growing with each kiss that he gave you.

He sucked on your lips like they were his lifeline — and you wondered, in that moment, how he’d treat the rest of you — how much attention he’d offer the rest of your body.

“J-Jin, I—” The shortened nickname slipped out between your lips when the two of you parted to catch your breaths. And when you noticed his swollen mouth, you were almost positive that yours looked just as bad, if not worse.

“What, baby doll?” He hummed, mouth moving away from yours entirely and coming close to the line of your jaw. You blushed wildly at the pet name, liking the way it sounded in his silky voice. He moved aside the thick fabric of your violet-colored knit turtleneck with his nose, lips attaching to the skin of your neck and suckling like a vampire drunken on the crimson of his lover. “What is it that you need right now?”

Your hands were scrambling for him, finding purchase in his dark roots and pulling just a tad bit there. The abuse to his scalp made him hiss out, warm breath painting across the heated flesh of the column of your neck brilliantly. “N—Need you t—to—” But your words were cut short by the way one of his hands was moving away from your waist, traveling under the hemline of your sweater, a long, nimble finger dancing across your belly button and rising to the center of your stomach.

“You need me, hmm?” He mused lowly, mouth having journeyed down to the skin closest to your clavicle, leaving violet-hued marks that would surely survive into the next few days. “Need me to fuck you, right? Need me to take you so irrevocably well right here and right now… can’t wait any longer, yeah?” As he spoke the words into existence, his naughty hand was already finding its way toward the lace of your bralette, skirting across its edges. Then, a single finger dipped underneath the elastic there, skirting up the length of your breast until it was resting against your pebbled nub. “Such a naughty little thing… who knew that the university’s prodigy just needed a good fucking, huh? That all she wanted was to get fucked open against the library bookshelves.”

You were gasping out in pure bliss, fingers digging in a little harder into his long wisps of hair as his hands began to explore your chest. Brushing, twisting, pulling. Then doing it all over again with the other mound. “Y—Yeah,” you managed to spit out, trembling underneath him, legs wounding tighter around his waist, bringing him ever closer. “Can you do that… fuck me? I need it so bad right now, I can’t handle it if you just leave me like this…” You were practically begging out the words, so desperate in your pleas that you were almost certain your groveling was boosting his already inflated ego.

“I only fuck good girls. Girls who don’t call me an asshole and don’t say they hate me.”

At that, your eyes were tearing open in a mix of surprise and despair. But the way that his hand didn’t stop touching your breasts, still playing with them, told you everything you needed to know at that moment.

You wiggled your hips slowly, grinding into the hardness between his dark-washed jeans. “Stop touching me then— stop kissing me and stop looking at me,” you began, taunting him with your movements and the way that you spoke in a velvety tone, all soft and delicate and innocent. When what the two of you were doing was anything but innocent. “But you can’t, right? Can’t get the thought of me out of your head— of what this pussy would feel like clenched around your cock, squeezing you for dear life as you fuck into me for the hundredth time in a single day—”

He was cutting off your words with his quick hands, shedding off your sweater and bralette in one go. Then he was bending down slowly, hands coming up to cup your chest. He stared up at you from his crouched position, watching the feelings rove across your face as he blew hot hair against one of your nipples.

“Just fucking shut up already bitch,” he said in a low grumble, as his hand came over your tit, mouth melding onto the warm skin there effortlessly. His other hand was busy playing with your neglected breast, squeezing there a little bit harder when his teeth grazed one of your nipples, tongue lapping at the bud. “You’re only to speak when spoken to, you understand me?” He asked, pulling away from your breast and making a crude, wet sucking noise as he did so.

Glaring down at him through lust-filled eyes, you sneered his way. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, asshole.” Hands gripping onto his hair a little bit, you pushed his face closer to your chest as he began to work on your other breast, leaving a ring of wetness as he went. “And don’t call me bitch.”

You could feel him smirk against your skin, his low chuckle vibrating against your gooseflesh and sending ripples of energy to course through your veins. “Mhm— why not? Your pussy sure seems to love the name.” He mused sadistically, completely unlatching from your breast, hands finding their way back at your hips.

“What are you even talk—”

But he didn’t leave any more room for questions, one hand ripping away from your waist and covering your covered centre. “This, right here,” he said in a low whisper, fingers cupping your warmth there, and you could practically feel the essence dripping out of you, just behind your thin panties and sweatpants. “Bet you’ll get even more soaked when I call you it again.”

“You know nothing about me.” The words came out garbled and wobbly, as he maneuvered your sweatpants down and off of your legs entirely. “Y—You don’t know my body.”

He threw you a sardonic kind of smile, leaning into the side of you, lips caressing the shell of your ear as he spoke in soft tones. “Yeah, but I’ve done a hell of a lot of observing over the years…” At his words, you could feel his hand nearing your middle again, and you involuntarily parted your legs in want.

When his fingers came in contact with the lace of your panties, you had to pull out your biggest bout of self-control to hold in the moan that wanted to escape from you. His movements were expert level, as he pushed the fabric off to the side, running a single finger up your lips, feeling for that small spot at the very top. Circling his thumb around there, his other fingers worked at your entrance, and before you knew it, he was pressing two long digits into you.

“F—Fuck—“ You groaned at the feeling of it all, falling into him and clawing at his shoulders that were still covered in that damp button-up shirt. “Hyunjin.” You were moaning out his name before you even realized it, hips jutting up slowly against his hand, your head getting thrown back as his fingers searched and found that warm, gooey spot deep inside of you.

“See? I know exactly what the fuck I’m doing,” he muttered, lips coming around the side of your neck and suckling violet marks into the skin there. “So be a good bitch and shut up for me, yeah? Take it like a good girl— like the good whore that I know you are.”

You couldn’t even protest against him using the name again, because, in all honesty, you did like it. It felt dirty and wrong but so very fucking right at the same time. It caused your walls to spasm against the three fingers he had stuck inside of you, as he pumped in and out with a rabid kind of pace. The sound of his movements forced shivers down the length of your spine, as his thumb pressed into your clit a little more.

“Y—You gotta fuck me now, Jin—” You mumbled, already reaching the edge of orgasm from the way that he was steadily working you up with his hand alone. Half of his fingers were buried deep inside of you and the others were desperately clutching at your hip bone to bring you closer to him. The sounds he was pulling from you, both wetness and moans of pleasure, were other-worldly. “N—Need to feel your cock inside of me, right fucking now.”

In your daze of lust, you found yourself clasping at the buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing them and sliding his damp shirt off of his frame. What lay underneath was a chiseled chest — a muscular abdomen, biceps that rippled with each breath he took, and a dark trail that led towards his dick. You ran your fingers down the milky expanse of his chest, marveling at how soft and chiseled everything felt.

Sighing out quietly, you stared up at him with pleading eyes. “You’re so fucking hot… always knew you would be.” That made Hyunjin smirk with satisfaction, as he tipped into you for a breathless kiss.

While his lips captured your own, you could feel his hands working at your panties, sliding them off your legs and leaving you completely bare. Then you heard the clanking noise of a belt coming undone, as he unmistakably rid himself of his pants and boxers.

Then he was parting from your mouth, focus turned down to where the centers of your bodies met together. Your mouth fell open at the sight of… him. All seven-and-a-half inches, long shaft curving upward in arousal and precum leaking out of the pretty red tip. A single vein ran down the side, bulging from his unchecked want.

“Need you to be nice and loud for me, yeah?” He growled in that low tone of his, as he guided himself near your entrance. “Let the entire school know who you belong to— scream my name, bitch, and tell everyone who fucking owns you.”

His words jumbled around inside of your mind, making you feel lightheaded as he slowly began to slide into you. You widened your legs a little bit for him, wrapping them around his waist as he quickly bottomed out. The stretch was only slight and left you hissing with relief when he was fit into you at the hilt.

Without any warning, he was sliding out almost completely, before thrusting back in, hitting into you so roughly, that your spine jammed into the wooden bookshelf at your back. And just like that, he was setting a hellish pace. One that was sure to make you crumble before him — fall apart at the seams.

“Mhm— fuck!” You screamed out in a guttural voice, throwing your head back against the bookshelf desperately as his hips snapped against yours feverishly. You were gripping onto his shoulders so hard, running your nails down his back, that you were sure you’d leave red marks later. “Holy shit- feels so good!”

One of Hyunjin’s hands traveled away from your waist, long, nimble fingers digging into your scalp, yanking at the hair there. “Louder, bitch— take it all like the filthy slut that you are.” He shouted, voice coming out raspy as he pounded into you roughly.

In the very back of your mind, you distinctly heard the pitter-patter of rainfall against the nearby windowpane mixing in with the sounds of the two of you — skin slapping against skin and wetness squelching. It was straight out of a porno and made your head swim with so many dirty thoughts. Breath catching in the center of your throat, you found your lips opening up and releasing a blood-curdling cry of pleasure.

Your noises of ecstasy seemed to compel Hyunjin forward with drive, as he rutted into you in a manic kind of way, thumb tracing figure-eight symbols into your inflamed clit. Almost like, if he didn’t get it out of his system, he’d never be able to live afterward — wouldn’t be able to breathe or think or speak. The tip of him hit up into that warm spot inside of you, and you clenched a little harder around this throbbing cock every time he teased you right there.

“Fuck— I can’t… I’m gonna…” You groaned out loudly. Your eyes flittered into the back of your skull from the way that he pulled at your hair at the same time that he fucked up into you.

Hyunjin grunted out lowly, hips snapping against yours with each thrust. “J—Just a little farther, doll face…” From the way that his domineering tone was slipping away, you could tell that he was also creeping near the edge of release.

You could feel the slip and slide between your legs, your essence coating every surface of your inner thighs and making everything feel silky and smooth. The intensity of his movements slowed down somewhat, the frenzy of his rocking leveling out as he chased your guys’ highs.

“Yes… right there!” You mewled out breathlessly just as the tip of him hit so far into you, that entire galaxies were cast against the expanse of your closed eyes. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire — the flush creeping down the column of your purple-marked neck and into the depths of your soul as he continued to circle your bundle of nerves.

Walls clenching around his cock that was buried deep inside of your warmth, you could feel the moment Hyunjin found that blissful space of his release. “I’m gonna come— fuck—” He rasped out, his voice on the quiet side as he lost all semblance of control.

Hips stuttering against yours, he made to pull out of you completely. But you found yourself shaking your head, eyes shooting open, and giving him a serious frown. “N—No… want you to… come inside…” Your head was empty of all thoughts, as you could do nothing more but focus on the way that he felt so close to you - so far deep inside.

At that, Hyunjin was offering you a tiny, satisfied grin. Then he was seizing up inside of you, cock stretching against your walls as he met his high. It overtook his entire system, overruling all other obstacles and forcing his head backward in pure, orgasmic bliss. The prettiest sounds fell from his plump, crimson, kiss-swollen lips, as he let himself slip down the cliff with ease.

The feeling of his release painting your walls in warm whiteness caused your entire body to convulse with pleasure, as you finally found your high. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before… perfect and whole and so fucking hot. Bursts of rose and topaz and turquoise splashed across the inner workings of your mind, as your insides fluttered around Hyunjin’s cock that fit perfectly between your legs.

“Holy shit, that was…” You said breathlessly after you had begun to come down from your high. Cracking your eyes open you noticed the darkness still there in Hyunjin’s gaze, and the way that his eyes slit shut with want. The sound of the rain outside lulled your mind into a perfect state of peaceful limbo. “What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow his way in question. “What is it?”

He shrugged slowly, eyes coming away from your connected middles and locking with yours. “Nothing, just… I can’t fucking believe you just let me cum inside of you— with no protection.”

You could feel his cock softening inside of you, and finally, your legs stopped shaking around his waist. “Why? You don’t like the idea of that?” Beginning to pull away from him, you tried to yank as far away from his cock as you could. “If you didn’t like it, you should’ve—”

Hyunjin’s mouth was coming onto you in the next beat, capturing your lips up into a heated kiss, stealing the labored breath right from your lungs and sucking on your puffy bottom lip. “Just shut the fuck up, alright. I fucking loved it… it was so hot— you’re so hot. Makes me wanna come in you every single day.” You could feel him move between your legs then, as he began to fuck his seed back into your aching walls. In the back of your mind, you could feel his hand lazily working at you, pushing a single digit back into your entrance between his cock, thrusting in the cum that was splattered across your thighs.

Groaning out softly at his words, you placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed a little bit so that you could get a look at his face again. It was filled with so much lust and want and adoration, the sight of it all almost overwhelmed you entirely. “Well, I suppose I could allow that…” Your voice trailed off, as you dragged a single finger up the center of his chest and towards the sharp line of his jaw. “If it’s with you— then yeah, you can fuck me raw every day.”

Hyunjin let out a low noise, which sounded like a mix between a moan and a cry for help. “But we can’t, baby doll— it wouldn’t be smart and I’d never want to put you in any kind of uncomfortable position.”

You found yourself shrugging off his concerns nonchalantly, as you drove your hips a little forward, meeting his shallow strokes. You loved the feeling there, of wetness and silky essence. “Yeah, but… the good thing is, at least we’d know who the father is.”

At that, he was flashing you a wicked smirk, pearly white glinting against puffy, red lips. His tiny smile was the last thing you saw before he was tipping into you and fitting his mouth around yours again. “Oh, you devilish little minx… I think I’ll keep you for a very long time.”

In the back of your mind, you could feel him moving against you, cock already stiffening again just from your words and insinuations alone. But at that moment, you weren’t too worried about what he planned to do with you for the rest of the night. Because right then, all you wanted to focus on was his face, and the way he let you ring your arms around his neck, pulling at the hair at his nape as he pressed kiss after impassioned kiss to your mouth.

It turns out that your roommate Felix had been right after all. In the end, working with Hwang Hyunjin hadn’t been that horrible.

It had been quite… nice.

Despite all of the bickering and shouting.

After a while, the rough bumps and edges of your rocky relationship seemed to mellow out between the tall bookshelves of the library. And before you knew it- he had you completely bending at his will — practically groveling at his feet for his love, attention, and care.

In the end, you supposed that that’s what you had always wanted from each other, and that’s why you had been so horrible to one another. If you couldn’t garner each other’s attention with regular conversations and friendship, the next best thing was to be rivals in your academics and throw insults at every opportunity you were offered.

But the thing about trying to hate Hwang Hyunjin — trying to hate such a smart, caring, passionate man — is that eventually, one’s willpower always breaks down, and they’re left in a pile of mess and limbs as they search out his affection.

Fin.

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itsonlyvegas · 2 years

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Tartaglia Childe Ajax

a/n it seems like i write for myself more than anything now so i thought i'd pump out something that was inspired from my own personal fanfic :) INFO - Gender Neutral Reader, Dom!Childe, slight possessiveness if u squint. **NSFW**

Tartaglia always feels like he should help you. Schoolwork, fighting, eating, sleeping—you name it, and he'll help out. So if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask him. However, he can go a bit extreme with it. If you're not careful, he might end up helping you too much…

He knows it's weird, but he just doesn't know how to stop himself from doing so. He loves you so much that he doesn't even know how to put it into words or actions. He knows that sometimes you don't like to show sparring as a love language and sometimes you just want to be left alone, but he wants to do whatever he can to make sure everything is okay between the two of you. It's funny how something as small as a request for help can make him so happy. "Ajax, can you get me (x,y,z)?" You'd ask him to get you something and his heart would flutter at the fact you're dependent on him. He's so whipped so OBVIOUSLY he'd do it for you. Need help with a university homework question? He's got you. Need help sparring against a hard boss? Yep. He'll carry you. Those bags too heavy? Leave it to him. It gets a bit wild in bed, though. While he is helpful and loving outside of the bedroom, he's even more so in there. However… don't expect a handout when it comes down to the line. From hot kisses littering your skin in a desperate attempt to stay right there with you, to hugs that seem to last forever… He's bound to try and take charge eventually. You won't regret it. The heat radiating off his body will cause you to forget about anything else. He's whipped. He'd go faster and harder if you begged - deeper if possible. His balls ache for that sweet release and his stomach churns as he hears those buttery moans slip right past your puffy lips. "Need more?" He'd ask you. He has you in a missionary position so he can see your beautiful, flushed face in all its glory. Still. He can't resist the urge to give you a little push upwards, to watch you gasp as your hips rise off the bed from his strong, large (yet boney) hands. "Yes." You'll whimper, reaching back to grab him by his thick, soft hair. You're melting under him, twitching and moaning. His voice is hoarse. He's panting. Your legs are quivering underneath him. "Fuck me harder," you beg, begging as you bite your lip. In response, Tartaglia would pull out every trick in the book to please you. He'll pound into you harder. He'll fuck you harder. He'll taste you harder. He'll kiss you harder. He'll make you moan louder than you've ever moaned before… all for his precious love. And when it all comes to a spicy halt… He'll drill down deep inside of you. He'll curl his fingers around your hip bones as he does so. You'll squirm, trying to get closer to him so you can just feel the way his muscles twitch and relax under your touch. The way he holds you tight makes it feel like you're always on that same wavelength - always in sync and never faltered. And when he cums, he always seems to have his lips or mouth on you one way or another. A breathy gasp and throaty groan on your collarbone or a long sloppy kiss on your lips. When he pulls away, you'd look up at him, your entire body glowing from head to toe. He's never seen you more beautiful than you are right in this moment. Even those expensive clothes he knows you'd like or even that new book from the publishing house in Inazuma seem dull compared to the glow of your cheeks. "I'm yours…" You whisper. "Always. Even after we part ways." he replies. "Forever." you agree, smiling softly and cuddling close to him. And fate always plays in funny ways. Staying together right here in this moment - all with sweaty limbs and warm hearts - feels like it will last a lifetime. Your careful lover will always be one with you… even if you were to part ways.

#genshin x you #genshin impact smut #tartaglia smut #childe smut #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #weeeee if this gets good reception i'll def post more :3 #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader

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rnakamura22 · 2 years

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First Years X Reader (MC, Yuu, Prefect) in a Polyamorous Relationship (NSFW ahead!)

Bitb

(This is my first time writing NSFW Head cannons.... sorry for the bad writing)

Prefect is Female!!!

So, a few rules had to me made in order to make this poly relationship work.

Number 1. No hogging. All attention needs to be paid equally.

Number 2. Study and schoolwork are prioritized.

Number 3. All intimate (cough cough) moments are in Ramshackle Dorm.

Of course, the gang sometimes competed with each other to have you. Count the numerous secret hickeys, bite marks out of felling high, handprints, handprints, and hickeys. But they all want to keep private things private. That’s one way of all the boys expressing their possessiveness over you. Also, they are all villains. Did you expect them to act like a good boy and follow the rules all the time?

The week was over, and the first-year gang and you were all free. Unknown to you, all the boys in the back of their mind, were filled with the thought of you. Thinking about how when week was over, they could finally have you. But you were jittery too, who wouldn’t be?

With 5 passes to stay over at your dorm, snacks, movies, sleeping bags, food, and drinks, (courtesy of Sam) and lots and lots of blankets and pillows, it was a start of a grand movie night.

When the 5th movie started, Grim was sound asleep in the other bedroom and you and the first years were watching a movie that..........well, some strict people (cough, Vil, Riddle, cough) would come busting in and break the disk in no time.

The awkward atmosphere wanders through the room, with only the sipping of juice echoing. Then...a kiss by Ace and Deuce who sat on both sides marked the start of the hot love making session.

Jack and Sebek were the first to actually touch you, actually manhandle you with their bigger bodies while Ace, Deuce, Epel grabbed from the sides and kissed you, touched you, grabbed your body.　It was a start of a long night, and there is no escape for you.

Ace Trappola

・LEG MAN, AND YOU CAN’T TELL ME OTHERWISE

・Will force you to wrap your legs around his waist when it’s his turn to thrust into you (maybe along with deuce) (wink wink)

・Kiss your legs, thighs, and ass

・I think he likes legs that are balanced in the right proportion, but doesn’t matter when it comes to you, you are his lover, his girlfriend, and that is facts

・TEASER BOTH ON THE INSIDE AND THE OUTSIDE, NEVER CHANGES

・DEEP KISSES, and will brag about how he can make you feel almost about to cum but doesn’t because he is a tease, and truth to be honest, he is a good kisser no doubt

・Likes cum on your tummy, and also inside your mouth because he loves blowjobs, he loves how your mouth swells up when you’re sucking him, it just fills his attitude ego

・He loves eating you out too, it just fills his sadism when you are feeling so good by him

・He will never say this, but he loves the face you make when you’re being double penetrated by him and the other first year

Deuce Spade

・BOOBS, BOOBS, BOOBS!!!!!

・Suck your nipples and maybe eat your boobs, leaves a hickey when feeling high

・A sweet baby, he just wants you to feel so good

・But don’t be fooled, when you spoil him too much, he turns into a monster ready to gobble you up

・Goes overboard, will have no mercy when he’s thrusting because he can’t hold back when your insides feel so good and he’s a sadist (unrealized by himself)

・Wants you to feel him and him only when he’s thrusting into you, but can’t deny the fact that he loves the face you make when doing multiple penetrations

・Loves cum on your boobs and also loves having his dick between your boobs

・Naturally good at fingering your pussy, I think. He drives a magical wheel and loves doing mechanical things, he has good hands. (Dirty look)

Jack Howl

・ASS MAN, YOU ARE FREE TO CHALLENGE ME ON OTHER OPTIONS

・He’s a big wolf, and he manhandles you with such ease, gropes you (horny sigh)

・His big hands will grip your ass so hard; it will leave handprints and maybe nails if the carnal desires get the better of him, and will kiss it

・Secretly terrified that he might break you, the size difference is there for sure and he kind of hold himself back at times like you

・WILL BITE YOUR NAPE!!!(Actually, all five of them does it)

・Cumming Inside, he has a big dick so OMG, the sensation is insane. He does it with protection of course, but secretly dreams about the future where he can actually put babies inside you. And one time he did with you without protection, the cum oozing out of your pussy made him go insane.

・I think he loves giving you pleasure more than receiving. He eats you like there’s no tomorrow and loves your sweet smell.

Epel Felmier

・A MIX OF BOOBS AND ASS

・I think he loves your female body, which is certainly more fluffy, sweet, and delicate.

・Since his sweet and cute face made everyone mistaken him for a girl for a long time, he loves the fact that in terms of strength, he can handle you with ease

・He loves your boobs and ass and constantly touches it, kisses it, and gropes it

・No matter the looks, he’s a guy and he doesn’t have this fluffy body part which drives him insane

・Since he has to act formal and sweet and angelic during school because of Vil, he becomes a beast when it’s just him. you, and the first years

・He slaps your ass and your boobs, no exceptions

・Secretly loves cum on your face, because it feels like he’s doing something so naughty and yet so good

・Loves kissing you too and kisses everywhere and bites your clit

Sebek Zigbolt

・BIG BABY, BOOB MAN

・Blushes at first, but manhandles you as he gets used to having intimate moments　(wink wink) with you and the first years

・Insane thrusts, while hugging you with his arms and holding you tight

・He’s a tsundere, but during times like this his attitude is so sweet like sugar

・Bites you with his fangs, no doubts

・The most guy who gets jealous easily, leaves bite marks all over your body

・Fingers you with his long fingers (dirty smile), he always chips his nails, so they are clean and not pointy (wink wink)

・Cumming on your back, there’s something about that drives him insane

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #yandere twsited wonderland

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jjungkooksthighs · 4 years

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Claws of Carnality | jjk (8)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 7.8k we really can’t ever have a short chapter around here smh

Summary: Alacrity augments you in the aftermath of your alpha’s perfervid performance and in his subsequent summoning of you, neither of you can stave off sin from overwhelming you in the desire for each other that consumingly captures the wolf and his mate.

Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of blood, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scenting, dirty talk (lbr I love that shit), praising, fingering (just a smidge), grinding, fellatio (cock sucking), cock worship (just a bit), breast/nipple play, nipping, sucking, begging, muscle kink, scratching, cum eating, manhandling, cursing, wet and messy sex (kind of), size kink, hair pulling, impreg kink, dual orgasms

A/N: So, this chapter took a bit longer to get out due to graduate applications, schoolwork and inclement weather that took out my Wi-Fi, lol. It also went through a series of deletions because I felt self-conscious after the original posting of chapter seven, but eventually, it came along to what I had pictured in my mind despite the rework to the style of this chapter that I hoped to make easier for you guys to read with lessened uses of terminology/vocabulary. Also, I’m not the best at writing this type of smut, so please go easy on me!

Oh, and the gif that you guys see at the top? That’s Jungkook’s outfit inspiration for what he wears at the end of the chapter. :)

As always, please share with me your thoughts about my work! There is no greater reward to writing than seeing what your readers think of what you spent so much time to create. I am eager to know what you guys make of my story, so please don’t hesitate to let me know what your thoughts are because I love to hear it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9

Meekness muddies you in the solid substratum of it that settles over your throat as you try to keep from liquifying under your alpha’s scorching gaze that leaves no part of you unscoured by its high heat.

It muffles you to a mutter as you struggle to swallow what little spittle has not dried up in your mouth at the parching sight of him as you manage, “Alpha….what are you doing?”

There had been something else you’d wanted to ask him, but in the roots that tangle thoughts around him, your perception is twisted by your peripheral field that extends only for the half nude man that looks fixedly at you.

Jungkook smirks before cocking his head to the side in quick movement in a display of avid amusement before he utters, “Is it not obvious to you, pretty? I’m stripping and shedding myself of the clothing I wore to entice you. It has served its purpose,” He turns to pierce you with a dark glare as he leans back on the wooden table behind him, the burled brawn of his arms bearing his weight as he leans back on them while his supple skin shines with the sweat that sluices it as he taunts, “I no longer require them here. Others may look at me, but no one but you, my mate, shall ever be able to touch me.”

You whine a that, your silver irises interspersed with golden streaks shimmering over him as they sliver down from perfectly plump lips that have spoken such sweet nothings to you and bedecked you in his brand as your hand absentmindedly rises to lay over the purpled petal he’d made ascend amidst the garden of you in his efforts to tend to his terrace.

You trail your visage over to the Adam’s apple that juts proudly out from the column of his neck, an irrational urge sprouting to life within you in the need to nip it for daring to sweetly stick out like the ripest berry from the sturdiest stem you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

You lick at your dried lips that are not slicked against the tongue that tries to wet them from the arid desert of your mouth that your alpha radiates away from you as your sight slides lower until it settles over the bodacious bough of his chest that branches brashly with muscles along every inch of him, your fingers twitching in remembrance of how strong and sinewy he’d been under your digits as you’d brushed them against him.

When your sight drops along the thatched thighs that the fabric strains stiffly against in its stretch over them, a picturesque memory of what you’d done atop of one of them paints colorfully itself in your mind.

Its vibrant vividity has you biting your tongue to keep from releasing another sound as your cheeks turn themselves red like the rose you are to him while your alpha grins at the vivacious view of you, wholly intrigued by the spectacle that is you as you struggle against the slump that soon has you falling back against the door as you whimper in the damning distance between you and your alpha that takes him away from you far too much.

“Jungkook,” you imploringly plead.

Your alpha chuckles at that to push off the vanity behind him with no effort at all before he strides over to the chaise lounge made from the leather of aged cattle against the timbered wall. He is slow in the languid lowering of himself over it, his back resting against the arm of the piece of furniture as he husks, “Bring yourself over to me, pretty,” his voice deepens before one hand rises, his fingers curling inward in a come-hither motion that has your heart stuttering in the excitement electrifying it as he orders, “Come and sit on your alpha’s lap, my omega, and tell to me all that you thought of my performance that was devoted solely to you.”

In the scarlet moonlight crimson as blood that drips like wax from a never burning candle’s wick from the glass window behind him, the color sinfully stains him in a dangerous sheen of a garnet glow that emanates effervescently off him in everything that promises impurity as his eyes glint goadingly at you from around the blackened wisps of his locks that have fallen around them.

As a creature that has only known chastity’s constraining shackles your whole life in your wait for your mate, you very much want them to be crushed under your alpha’s heel, for he has already caused them to crack amidst the sweet pleasure he’s delivered to you in the forest and in the sanctity of your own chambers.

As if caught in his unyielding undercurrent, your body moves under his watery sway that sweeps you forth. Perhaps it is the omega in you that is utterly unable to resist temptation taking its form in Jungkook. Maybe it is the inescapably inexorable draw to him that paws at you to be near to him lest you incur its fangs if he is absent and away from you.

Conceivably, it could be both that have you pad forward without pause as he watches you with interest while you move, his golden irises never drifting from your own as a wave of heat falls over them and, in your undertow he’s surrounded you in, it washes over you, too.

Once you stand before him, he makes a sound of appreciation as he appraises you attentively.

One hand sinks under the furs that hide you from him, each finger suggestively sidling up along your waist while the other palm joins it on the other side as you close your eyes while your arms wrap around his muscled shoulders, his calloused and strong digits dipping deliciously over your soft skin as he hums, “Mmm, that’s a good girl. I like it when you’re obedient like this. You’re so receptive to me already, pretty,” His hands sensuously slide downward, his fingers streaming outward like a consumingly surrounding sea that washes you over in his thrilling touch while he splays his legs out before, all in one fluid motion, he pulls you forward until you fall like the tide over his hips as each of your legs pools on either side of him only for him to smirk as he amusedly muses, “So responsive to me, too, my mate. You do not resist me at all. You’re so willing to submit, aren’t you, sweetling?”

Not prepared for the sudden shift in position, you gasp in surprise, your eyes shooting open to be submerged by his golden irises beginning to seep with the licentious lust that dooms you in their dusky dimness. They beckon you to lose yourself in his deep depths, one hand diving under the thin terrain of your gown only for him to trickle the phalanges of his fingers along the soft skin of your leg. He’s unrushed and unhurried as his digits drip their warmth over you to flow over your ankle through his ascent upward, his digits oozing along aqueously while his fingers spread outward like a tributary that must get its fill as he drags them ceaselessly along.

Your breath wells up in your lungs in the anticipation that swims there and when his hand torturously trails over your thigh only to brutishly, brutally halt his ministrations, that’s when you whine, your arms tightening around him as you lean forward to lay your forehead against his own as you whisper, “Please, alpha.”

Your alpha croons, his index finger running in circles along the innermost part of your leg that borders along the sex that has not stopped crying for him since his performance as he says, “I know what you want, pretty. Do you want your alpha to take care of you again like I did in the forest? It would be so easy. I could make you fall apart so quickly with how readily you receive me, my mate,” His digit dribbles impossibly closer to where you want him most, a shaky breath falling from your lips as one of your own hands veers down over his chiseled chest, catching on all the defined muscles that ripple in its wake before it settles over his heart that beats briskly in the same time as your own that instantly stammers when his finger stops once more as you whimper out while your alpha’s eyes narrow, “Much as I wish to give to you what I know you desire, you’re going to answer to me before I do anything else, pretty. You have such a pretty voice. Use it for me, my mate.”

Your irises slip below to his lips that move so very precariously with how close you are to them and an urge soaks you to feel them, your other hand dowsing him in your touch as you draggle it along the back of his nape and up along his neck until your fingers tentatively trace the outline of them. You etch his rounder and fuller lower lip into your memory as you draw your digit around the upper one, entirely entranced by the cupid’s bow that crowns the middle of his top lip and the way that a long, pink tongue is swift to poke out of the mouth he parts for you in your exploration of him.

He laves it first along the bottom one to carefully coat it in saliva that gleams against the soft firelight that licks at your alpha from the corner of the chamber and when he dares to lap the muscle along the underside of your finger at the same time the palm on your thigh trails forbiddingly forth to cup your womanhood, you mewl.

The lewd sight stirs within you a hunger for that which only your alpha can sate.

It is as if his tongue are hands are the keys that unlocks the cage of words in your mind that he’d been the one to padlock there as you breathe, “I would very much like that, but you’ve been so good to me. You made me feel so wonderful in the forest and even dedicated that stunning performance to me that made me fall impossibly harder for you, my alpha,” you breathily profess while you pigment the column of his neck with the stain of your lips as you lightly graze your teeth along the notch you’d been staring at before to whisper, “You were so mesmerizing up on that stage while you danced for me. I’ve never seen a creature as enchanting as you were,” the hand that you’d left over his heart begins its journey anew as you veer toward the bulge in his pants that he unabashedly displays to you while you offer, “You’ve done so many other things that have exhibited your sentiments for me and I want to give you something in return. Please, let me show to you how special you make me feel, Jungkook.”

Your hand has barely even lain itself over his member that hardens at your very words before there’s a growl, your alpha’s hand extricating itself from between your legs to encircle around your dainty wrist as he roughly pulls it up and between the two of you before he warns, “Do not toy with me, my omega. Once you start, you’re going to finish, yeah? I can only control myself so much with you looking so goddamn beautiful for me while you’re on my lap like this.”

You lick your lips to whisper, “I have no intentions of playing with you, Jungkook. I only wish to please my alpha if he will allow me to indulge in him like I’ve wanted to for so very long,” you fully seat yourself on him, your clothed sex rubbing against him as you grind atop him while the hand on your waist bunches the fabric around it to draw it up and away from you to ease your access as your head dips down so that you can imbibe yourself of his taste after being denied it in the woodland, “I’m so parched, alpha…please, help me. You’re the only one that can.”

The moment your mouth ghosts over the sternocleidomastoid muscle along his neck and your breath warmly whisks itself over him, he releases you only for his hand to tangle in your hair as he rasps, “That’s right, my mate. No one but me can quench you like I can. You want to satisfy me, pretty?” His hips impetuously impulse upward against your own as he hisses, “Do it, then. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

Needing no further coaxing, you press your lips against him in a chaste, short osculation that earns a rumble from his throat in a sound that has you smiling against him as you string a line of wet kisses over him, your hips rolling atop the tented bulge that hardens inconceivably more under you as you moan at the delicious friction that cascades through you with every eddy of your hips along his member that is all too fast to try to escape his trousers.

Raptness for you floods his irises and it swells around you until you take one of his hands to delve under the furs that conceal you from him, his head falling back when you swirl your sex over him while you slide his fingers over the exposed sliver of skin between your breasts, his digits diving under the thin material of your bodice to palm at your tit as you sigh in satisfaction at the way his long, slender fingers sinfully swathe you in their hold.

Your alpha husks, “Gods, these tits were fucking made for this. They were made for me.”

“Yes, alpha…all for you,” you breathe as he kneads at your tit while you continue your expedition along the mountainous terrain of his chest and when he brings his lip between his teeth at the sight of your hooded gaze as you stare hungrily back at him, he watches the way that your irises flick toward the peaked summit of the same nipple that had taunted you from under the enclosure of the sheer shirt he’d worn to agonizingly afflict you earlier.

When you glance back at his eyes for permission, they flash dangerously at you and with a swivel of your hips that has him momentarily shutting his eyes, you seize your opportunity and enclose your mouth around the dark nipple to suckle at him only to earn a guttural groan from him as his back bows inward while his fingers dig into your hip at the same time that the digits in your hair curl inward to pull tightly as he utters, “Fuck, pretty. That feels amazing. Keep going, my omega. You’re making your alpha feel so good.”

Your wolf preens at the praise, your tongue daubing his tender areola in kittenish licks as you suction the sensitive skin between your lips, your other hand pawing at his pectoral while his thumb flitters over your own nipple only to have you quicken your pace as he strums you like an instrument atop of him.

You soon shift your attention to the other neglected bud, your lips enveloping him as he grunts with the way that you scuff your nails down his swollen peak while you twirl your tongue along the abandoned areola.

Distracted by your ministrations to his chest, your alpha does notice the way your hand seeps down his chest until it bears down over the fully hardened member to have him buck from underneath you. The movement jostles you atop him and, accidently, you nip at him only for him to pinch your own nipple between his fingers in punishment as you whimper.

Through it all, your hips do not cease their undulations over him as they continue to rotate rapturously around him, the pleasure too sweetly succulent as it glazes over you the longer that you lather yourself on him.

You are steadfast in your venturous voyage to discover more of your alpha as you frisk your tongue along the underside of his pec before continuing your descent toward the steep sierra that rises tall between his legs.

You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at his now engorged, edematous buds, but the fingers in your hair constrict around you to condense your vision only to golden irises that flare fiercely at you when he rumbles out, “Up here, pretty. I want to see your eyes while you use your mouth on me.”

“Yes, alpha,” you obediently reply as you press a hot, open-mouthed kiss over each of the eight abdominal muscles that comprise an impressive slew of sinew over the skin of his belly.

With the choker clasped around your neck, you can only go so far before it unforgivingly cuts into you and with one last sweep of your tongue along the ridges between his abs, you rise to plant your hands on his chest as he rolls your nipple expertly between two fingers, a moan tumbling from your lips as you grind with fervor over him.

Wanting him to feel just as pleasured as you are, you lay your palm flat over him, your fingers furling around him to give him a small squeeze that earns a groan him that is drawn out when you lean forward to drag your lips along the underside of his jaw that he presents to you under the light, soft brush of your mouth over him.

One of his hands finds itself under your chin, two fingers grasping your jaw as he pulls your chin up while he husks, “You really do want to please me, don’t you, pretty? If you want me that bad,” he sits up with you still sat on his lap, his eyes scintillating lethally as the pad of his thumb slides up to nudge along your lip, your saliva dripping and coating the digit that he uses to penetrate the warmth of your mouth that you close around him as he growls, “Get on your knees and take this cock into your mouth. Drink from me until you’re so full of me that you won’t wish for anything else to feed that thirsting desire within you.”

Under his command that sidles swelteringly through golden irises from under his locks, you shakily exhale when he extracts his finger from your mouth, each of you watching the way your spittle clasps itself to him before breaking off and falling between you.

You whine at the loss of him, but you know that you won’t leave you empty for long and the thought energetically bounds through you like a sylph springing through the air.

He easily lifts you from his lap and sets you on the carpeted floor, your limbs far too weak to support your weight without him as he helps you to fold your legs under you so that you sit on your heels like he’d ordered you to do.

A lagoon of fabric from your skirts profoundly puddles and spills outward around you as you stare at the bloated bulge in his trousers, your salivary glands secreting spit as your mouth waters at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

Your fingers fiddle with the linen lining the end of your alpha’s trousers, however, as diffidence coils around your ribs.

You have never pleasured a man with your mouth before, for it is a rule that such intimate practices are not to be engaged in unless a wolf has presented as either an alpha, omega or beta.

At your hesitance that is made palpable in the way that you chew at your lip, your alpha softens if only for a moment as he hunches over you, both hands laying along the sides of your jaw as his tone lightens when he asks, “What is it, pretty? Are you having second thoughts? It’s alright if you are. I would never have you do anything you didn’t want to do.”

His support only makes you want him more, for there is care that he’s imbued innately in each word that flowers within you under his reaching radiance.

His irises search your own beseechingly and you place your own palm atop of his as your cheeks redden with embarrassment that shyly quiets you to a whisper as you tentatively confess, “It’s just…it’s just that I’ve, well…I’ve never done this before. I want to satisfy you, alpha, but I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it or if I’ll even make you feel half as fulfilled as you did for me in the forest.”

Your alpha only smirks at that, his expression darkening damningly as understanding shadows him while he utters, “All the better for me, my omega,” He turns his hand to capture your fingers between his own as your digits intertwine with his own as he drifts your joined hands toward his weeping member, “The only cock you will learn to fuck with that little mouth of yours will be mine. You shall only know my knot on your tongue. I alone will gladly teach and instruct you on how to pleasure your mate, pretty.”

Familiar fire ignites in you as his promises plunder your being with anticipation. He strews your hand just above where his tip leaks through the linen before, with a scalding glance, one of his palms is crossed over the other and without pause, he trails them seductively slow up his thigh in a path that will drive him right where he needs it.

You watch, entirely engrossed, as fingers are rubbed against his member, a heaved breath forcing itself through ajar lips that follow with a clenched jaw as he rasps, “The first thing you would want to do is get me hard like this, pretty. I don’t have to be for you to take me in your mouth, but it’s better if you, ah-“ you spare no time in replacing his hands with one of your own, your fingers stroking him through the fabric as he groans, “-Yes, pretty, just like that. Shit. Take my cock out now. The pleasure is increased tenfold when there are no barriers that bar you from me.”

You obey, your breath hitching at his considerably large size once again as your alpha makes quick work of his soiled trousers.

Your ardent awaitment of him is not long when he sheds the last piece of clothing he’d had only for your eyes to widen as large as stars at the sight that greets you.

Your eyes widen in wonderment as you quietly gasp, “Alpha, it’s… it’s enormous. You’re magnificent, but,” you gulp as you stare, “do you think that will fit?”

Your alpha caresses your jaw as he coos, “It will fit if I wish it to. You were designed and created for me by the moon above, pretty. I know you can take me.”

Nestled between thick thighs, his sizeable shaft arcs upward like a crescent moon with constellated veins spanning through the sky of his skin, the bulbous head framing it all where it hovers over his abdominals like a planet that you’d very much like to explore yet have never seen before.

“Still, how are you even larger than before, Jungkook?” You blurt, your fingers dipping down to gingerly pad over him in your fascination of his behemoth dimensions as he bites down on his tongue to keep from bucking underneath you, for he does not want to startle you.

Between his legs, you stare at him with the eyes of a doe rather than a wolf from your inexperience that tucks your tail between your legs and he is intent on ensuring that nothing will deter you from venturing out into the field where he waits anxiously for you.

“This is what you do to me, pretty. You make me like this, for it is my need for you that makes me so much bigger to you than before. I have been denied of you for far too long, my omega,” his fingers enclose around your wrist as fervid fervor fills his irises before he orders, “Put your little hands around me, pretty. You can be as gentle, or as rough, as you wish.”

You do as he says, instantly wrapping your hands around him and then blinking innocently at him as you tilt your head to the side in question.

The moment your touch titillates him, his brows pull together in concentration, for your fingers are far smaller and more delicate than his own in their timidity that holds them back.

Despite it all, you are a sight that is far too beautiful to behold as he encourages, “That’s it, my omega. Now, open wide and take me.”

Tentatively, you part your lips as each of your hands bring his member down to your gaping maw. The closer it gets to your mouth, the more colossal it towers over you. All it takes for you to gulp and push down the lump of apprehension in your throat is one glance up at your alpha, whose irises simmer over your own with the heat of the sun as he draws his lip between his teeth while he devours the vivid visage of you between his legs.

There’s so much you want to say to him, but right now, there’s only one thing that can possibly show to him what you feel for him.

When he finally breaches you and his heavy girth falls over your tongue, it is warm like the rest of him and engorged with the blood that rushes to it as you try to nestle him between your lips the best that you can.

He tastes of a musky tanginess that is mixed with a salty, briny tint. You find that it is not an unpleasant flavor.

Your walls contract around nothing when you watch his face contort to one born of pleasure in an accidental brush of your tongue along the underside of his shaft in your attempts to gorge yourself of more of him. Like this, his base is still grasped by each hand as he sinks his fingers into your tresses to urge you forward impossibly more.

Like this, he’s resplendently ravishing as he succumbs to the damned delirium that you are solely and wholly the bringer of.

You’re not sure if the human body was created for this purpose, but you do know that your alpha’s pleasure is the only thing that matters to you now. There’s a feral rawness in him that has slept in him and you want to be the one to awaken it. You’ve always been a stubborn creature and you aren’t about to let unseeded unsurety stop you now when you can see the glimpses of the satisfaction you could grant him like he has for you.

There’s something so gratifying in knowing that you could be the source of his pleasure and so, you experimentally swirl your tongue around his tip that sobs with precum as you allow him to plunge himself even deeper inside your mouth.

Your alpha’s head is thrown back at that as he groans, “Yeah, fuck, pretty. Gods, I knew you could do this. So fucking perfect me, my omega… my mate.”

Inch by impossible inch, your alpha penetrates you inconceivably as you lick at him like a cat starved of its water for days. The hand in your hair starts to push and pull you to and fro and you watch, captured by captivation, as your alpha’s breaths begin to become uneven and heave into pants as he stares heatedly at you.

“Use your hands, pretty. Touch me.” Your alpha husks and you obey, each of your hands constringing around what you can’t fit inside your mouth as you stroke him up and down, your fingers catching along the veins that you take care to caress as you squeeze in a vice-like grip his member that throbs under you.

Your alpha gives a grunt of approval, his back arching as his eyes screw shut under your ministrations as his lips part in pleasure.

Your confidence grows the longer that you lave at him, unsure of what you are doing but nonetheless spurred into action as your alpha clutches your hair between his fingers to secure you to him as you fleetingly flick your wet muscle against his sensitive glans while your alpha laments.

As you stare up at him, he is carnality’s manifestation in the way that the scarlet light erotically colors him in passion’s dangerous hue, his sculpted brows scrunched together under wild curls that curve voluptuously along his angular face.

Lost in him, you make the mistake of scraping your teeth against him only to earn a sharp hiss from him as his fingers tighten in your locks.

Breathless, your alpha’s eyes open while he grimaces, “Loosen your jaw, pretty girl. That hurts, yeah? Try not to graze me with those teeth of yours. I know you can do that, can’t you, sweetling?”

You pull off him with an apology already on your lips, “I’m sorry, alpha. I didn’t mean to harm you. I’ll be better for you, I promise.”

Your alpha coos, “You already are the best for me, pretty,” he brushes his knuckles under your mandible, “There is no one I would do this with beyond you. You’re mine and you will learn, my mate. I do not expect you to be perfect when this is your first time. You’ve been doing so well already, my omega. All you need to do is relax for me.”

Your wolf bays at his praise, affection for him blooming inside you as his words water you.

You heed your alpha’s command, your maw slackening as you guide him back between your lips. This time, you swallow him as far back as you can possibly guzzle him, your mouth flooded of all that is him as you whirl your tongue lasciviously around him.

Your fingers compress around his base while one hand, with renewed spirit, seeps over his balls as you fondle them, your alpha’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as you claw away at the last of his control to cause him to buck into your mouth, his cock driving itself even deeper down your throat until it buries itself so far back that it blocks your airway, hot tears quick to burn at the edges of your eyes as he hits your pharynx and blocks your airway.

“Fuck, don’t stop. Suck me, my mate.” Your alpha drawls out, the efforts of speaking laboriously difficult in the breaths that strain to dislodge themselves and leave him.

It is a sensation you have never felt before to have your mouth so thoroughly filled and though it is not the most comfortable, the pleasure lies not in you, but rather within your mate and in what you are swiftly reducing him to. You would do this a thousand times if it meant wracking your alpha to this.

Ever the dutiful omega, you follow his decree. You hollow your cheeks as you bob your head along his length while you suckle him enthusiastically, inhaling through your nose in spite of the breath that eludes you throat.

“Gods, yeah, pretty. Right there, right there. Fuck me, you’re going to drive me crazy, ” Your alpha rasps as you unsuccessfully try to silence the gag that erupts in the back of your mouth while his fingers knead into your hair to tug at the roots as he thrusts into your mouth to plummet lecherously lower.

Spit pools in every crevice of your mouth until you’re overflowing with it and, as he rams himself into you, all you can do is bear it as your slobber falls like a fountain from your lips in his jostling movements that shake your vision. His eyes have become hazed with craving craze for you and you relish in the way he struggles for breath just as you are in your damning decimation of him.

Transfixed by the way your eyelids flutter as his dick disappears into the wet warmth of your mouth that he could spend forever in, he husks, “You’re so hot like this with my cock between your lips, pretty. You like this, don’t you? You like sucking your alpha’s dick?” He asks while he watches in interest the way that your saliva escapes the cushion of your lips that pillow him inside you, his thumb brushing it away and back over your lips.

You moan to let him know that yes, you really do enjoy seeing the way you’re wrecking him through your own devices. Right now, this is about him and seeing his pleasure is far more satisfying than anything you could have imagined. Knowing that you are the one that is affecting him in this way is inexorably exhilarating. It makes you feel powerful. Now, it is you that holds the key to his raptured raptness.

When your alpha drags his digit along your lower lip, you hum in agreement and the vibrations shoot straight into his member as he arches his back, his head falling even farther as you work him in your mouth while he utters, “Shit, of course you do. You really are perfect for me,” one hand grabs your own to pull you down to the neglected testicles that ache for you, your fingers closing around one delicately to give him a gentle squeeze as he bites at his lip while he growls, “I’m not going to last much longer, pretty. Gods, use that tongue of yours like you did out there when you told those bastards that you’re mine. Show me you meant it, my mate. Let me see how badly you want to please me.”

His words send a wave of blazing heat through you, tenacious tenacity sweltering within you at the realization that he’d been watching from the shadows and had seen and heard everything that had occurred between you and the two wolves that so stupidly believed they would win you from your soulmate.

You swallow fatally around him, your muscle swishing and swiveling around him as you unhinge your jaw to completely take him in his entirety when he tugs you down on him. His facial expression detorts to one of unadulterated, unbridled bliss as his own tongue lolls to either side of his parted lips, his eyes closing yet again while the sounds of slurping drip from your lips with the spittle that dribbles below them.

Your alpha hums, “Mmm, fuck, you’re so good with that little mouth. You fuck my cock with it better than any bitch in this pack ever could.”

Your cheeks running red at that, you fondle his balls with one hand, your other running your nails down his chest to leave reddened marks of your own over his skin all while you greedily ingurgitate him while he stuffs himself inside you with another dangerous undulation of his hips.

When your fingers roll his balls like dice between them, that has him keening as he pants, “I’m close, pretty. I’m going to fucking fill you up so much that the taste of me will fucking linger in that hungry mouth of yours for days. You want that, yeah?”

You nod instantly, your stomach grumbling your salivary glands producing more of their offspring at just the thought of it as you suction him with eager earnestness betwixt your lips.

By now, he’s swelling and throbbing between your lips, his end near by the way his testicles palpitate as you titillate him.

Your alpha grunts before he rumbles out, “Gods, you are such a ravenous little girl for me. I bet that cunt of yours is just as starved to receive me, isn’t it, little one? Fuck, I could knot you, my mate. I could breed you so well. Do you want my pups, pretty? Do you want me to stuff you to the brim with my fucking seed so you have no choice but to get pregnant and bear my children?”

You moan at the thought of it, the ostentatious oscillations strafing over his dick as your head bounces back and forth while you quaff him to have him grunt.

There’s an urge to bask in his simmering gaze as you give him over to his end and, with another sinful swill of him within your mouth as you grope his gonads, you splutter amidst the very large cock currently nestled between your lips, “I want it a-all, Jungkook, but p-please…I w-wish,” you slabber him with your saliva as your tongue twists itself around him, “I wish for y-you to look upon me when you finish in my m-mouth.”

Each word trickles from you under the labored breaths you inhale through your nose and you hope that they are not burned by the fire that blazes in the corner of the chamber before they can reach him.

Your voice submerges and dives after him through the sea of exaltation that you have deluged him into and, in your final act to bring him back up for the air of his ecstasy, his eyelids flicker up to reveal golden irises that singe you in their voracious torridity.

You whine at the way the smoke of desire has smoldered him, his long tongue poking against his cheek as his head tilts back while he consumes you in his sights that leave you squirming along the floor as he husks, “You want me to see who has made me feel so fucking good, yeah? Very well, pretty. Watch me cum just for you.”

If the dangerous twirl of your tongue along his slit while your hand that had been attached to his testicles slides sinfully down to rub along his perineum isn’t enough to have him come undone, it’s the way that your eyes now gleam with the glazing of the yen of yearning that every blood vessel burns of yours is coated for him with as you fervently fix him inside your mouth.

You’re the picture of innocence in the white of your dress that curtains you in its angelic wing, but the cock between your lips that you ardently take between them damns you in sin’s tendrils that Jungkook captures you with.

It is his utter undoing when your cheeks fatally concave in their incurvation as you suck him with tightly compressed pressure inside your wet warmth while you run your tongue along his base at the same time he draws you forward so that your nose brushes the thicket of pubic hairs as you blink with innocent doe-eyes up at him as he howls, “Ah, fuck, I’m there, pretty. I’m cumming because of what you did to me.”

Euphoria pours itself through him like a cascading waterfall that does douse every part of him that it washes over as his knot swells inside you, his irises never abandoning you through his climax as his seed bursts out of him and spurts across every corner of your mouth.

You flatten your tongue to catch every bit of him as he feeds you his nectarous ambrosia. His thickened essence spreads and spills over your hot muscle and down your throat deliciously viscous as he makes good on his promise and nourishes your parched body with his sinful sustenance.

He spouts and streams his taint into you as endlessly as a river and when you think you might just overflow with it, that’s when he extricates himself from you, one hand rising so that his thumb caresses your swollen and abused lips as he coos, “Such a good girl for me. You did so well for your first time, sweetling,” his digit swipes at the stray bead of cum that leaks from you only to sweep his finger over your tongue and you close your mouth around him, moaning out at his tasteful tinge as his eyes flash darkly at you, “That’s it, pretty. Drink every last drop. We wouldn’t want you to thirst for me again while you watch me fight the other alphas for you, now would we?”

He pulls his digit from you with a ‘pop’ as you lick your lips as you breathe, “No, alpha. That would be a travesty, truly.”

Your alpha chuckles at that as he gathers you from the floor and when your scent wafts wantonly under his nostrils, he smirks wolfishly, “My, my, my… you really can’t get enough of me, can you?”

It takes you a second to realize, but when he settles you on his lap once more and your thighs skim each other in the movement, your eyes widen as you draw in a short, small breath.

Your alpha only arches a sculpted brow, amusement coloring his tone as he teases, “What? Surprised that you got off by humping my leg like the animal that you are while you sucked my cock, pretty?”

So focused on delivering your alpha over to his end, you’d hardly paid attention to the way your legs had clamped around one of his own as you rutted against him with fervor. You really couldn’t help it with the sight of sin that had commanded your capture under it.

You whine, your irises dipping low as you trace circles along his bare chest as embarrassment tints your cheeks red, “Jungkook, I didn’t mean to. You just… you did this. It’s your fault.”

Your alpha laughs at that, one hand settling along your jaw to coax your visage back up at him while your wolf hounds at you to obey as he rumbles, “I shall gladly take the blame then, beautiful. You know, the fact that you came from giving to me the best head that I’ve ever had,” the fingers of his other palm snake under the folds of your dress to drag through the deposit of wetness that now drapes your legs as he brings the digits to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick his finger clean of you as he groans at the flavor of you while his irises dilate, “That’s hot as fuck.”

Your blush is as red as a ruby as you whimper at that and your alpha grins as his stray hand lands on your hip to trail up and down your back in soothing circular motions to reassure you. His mouth opens to say something else, but before he can, there’s a loud series of knocks against the wooden door interrupts the two of you amidst your illicit indecencies.

“This is the last call for all alphas that might remain here. The Offering is about to begin,” says the muffled voice of an elder that likely had been sent to collect any lingering wolves that were still in the den.

You whine loudly as your arms intertwine around your alpha’s neck, your baser being demanding you keep close to your alpha as he softens, the fingers on your cheek splaying out so that his digits caress you as utters, “Come, pretty. I must ready myself for what is to come and I require my mate’s aid to assist me in dressing, for you’ve temporarily robbed me of my faculties after what you’ve just done to me.”

Your wolf preens at that as your hand lifts as you lay your palm over his own while you implore, “Must we go so soon? I do not wish to leave your side.”

Your alpha stands and he’s careful to lift you up and off of him even while your arms tighten around his neck as he rumbles, “After this is all over, you will be free to be with me whenever, wherever and however you desire, my mate. You know the rules,” he moves back and you follow him in your embrace until his thighs hit the back of the vanity where his clothes sit on the abandoned chair, “I must duel anyone that tries to contest me for you, sweetling. It simply is the way of things and I will not hesitate to engage in battle with any wolf that attempts to take what is rightfully mine. You are everything to me and I will make certain that everyone knows it. Do you understand, pretty?”

You nod as you nuzzle the sensitive gland along his neck as a purr trembles from your throat while you scent him, “I understand, Jungkook. I only fear the bloody destruction you’ll leave in your wake for any fools that think they can tear you away from me.”

“That shall be their mistake, pretty,” he sighs in satisfaction as he tilts his head back to grant access as you paint him with the stroke of your lips over the tender skin along his clavicle, “I will not lose you.”

Tenet blazes in his eyes and conviction radiates his words that emit with the sun’s might their fierceness as they fall over you to set your own affection alight within you as you lace your lips along his jaw in a stripe of kisses that you thread there as you manage between them, “There is not a shred of doubt in my mind that you will be the champion amongst them all. However it may be, you have already won me, alpha.”

With that, you embellish him with the cloth he will wear in his battles for you. You help him delicately pull the garment over his head that shades him in the color of soot. It is akin to a sheet of thin charcoal that dyes him in its film of darkness that, like his earlier shirt, is grainy and dusts him lightly in its hue, his sun soaked skin shining brilliantly from beneath it.

Your mouth waters at the sight of it as you tuck it into cotton trousers that are black as night and your alpha smirks when the smell of your arousal drips down to collect itself amidst the pool of your taint yet again as he watches with interest the way that you chew at your lip while you tug the white blazer across bulging arms that catch at the heavier material as you drag it over him.

He makes certain to playfully provoke you by wrapping an arm around your waist only to schlep you forward, your hands planting themselves against his broad, strong chest as he asks, “Are you ready to watch me show everyone that I and I alone am the only wolf that is deserving of you as his mate?”

You nudge at the edge of his collarbone to catchily collect as much of his riveting redolence as you can before you sow another row of kisses along his skin only to pull away and admit, “Always.”

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genesisrose74 · 4 years

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A/n: This idea just popped into my head this morning and I needed to write it out, guess who finished in one day instead of focusing on summer school aha ha...so here’s the next edition of Class 1-A quarantine hc’s! I think I’ll include a bit of background for all of these, just for future reference if anyone likes them lmao. Today we have everyone’s favorite nitroglycerin king, Bakugo Katsuki! Hope y’all enjoy cause I’m honestly so soft for this one okay BYE-

Surprisingly, you’re initially part of the Dekusquad, but you’ve always been close with Kirishima and Mina and feel comfortable hanging out with their group as well so you start gravitating to the Bakusquad

At first, Bakugo is really standoffish because, “You’re seriously friends with that damn nerd Deku” - wow everyone be hating on our cinnamon roll smh

But then he sees how much the rest of Bakusquad likes you and he starts warming up

It starts with small little things like not hogging all the space on the couches in the dorms and having you sit beside him

Then he notices that you’re very forgetful of your jacket and he ends up keeping a spare in his bag just in case the weather gets really bad

“I mistakenly grabbed two this morning, so lighten my load and carry the jacket—I don’t give a shit if you put it on, just hold it will you!”

He’s acts all aggressive whenever he tries to be subtle and someone calls him out on it pffft-

“What the hell are you talking about? You trying to get punched in the face?”

And his feelings are emphasized when the whole class is allowed to use the pool one afternoon and you’re pulling up with Mina and Momo

You’ve got a cute swimsuit and a sun hat on, and King Explosion Murder starts sweating a dangerous amount of nitroglycerin

Bakugo Katsuki has a thing for soft girls who can pull a one-eighty and kick ass no I do not take criticism

The class wants to play chicken and everyone is choosing partners, but in the corner of his eye Bakugo sees you getting cornered by Mineta

You’re usually able to handle the horny tornado but you’re feeling a bit too exposed in a bathing suit and start losing your cool

When I tell you the whole Bakusquad BOLTS to come rescue you-

Mineta is literally launched out of the pool by Sero like a rocket ship in orbit and the rest of the group is in this protective barrier formation around you (yes the squad has protocols for this kind of thing don’t even deny it)

Bakugo is beside you in a second with his hands secured on your waist because no one is coming near you like that when he’s around

“Why don’t you be my partner, yeah?”

And that's the story of how y’all destroyed everyone at chicken with absolutely no mercy and Bakugo finds your competitiveness that entire day attractive as hell

Walking back to the dorms afterwards, he pulls you away from the group and the look he gives you is s e a r i n g

“For the love of God, go out with me” and he does not have to tell you twice

Literally the entire class is SHOOK because you’re actually pretty mellow and Mr. My Only Vocabulary Word Is Die is...ya know...✨volatile✨

But let’s be honest he’s actually a softie if you’re close enough to him (sorry Deku you’re the exception but we still luv u) and everyone ends up adoring y’all being together

When quarantine rolls around and you both have to live back at your respective houses, everything is decently calm for about two days and then you both start getting bored as hell

Honestly longer than you expected

Bakugo hates social distancing with a passion but he agrees to abide by the rules and ends up asking you to Facetime at least twice a day

His bedroom is actually very tidy ‘cause Bakugo hates clutter, especially when he’s doing schoolwork

I wholeheartedly believe that Bakugo is a beast in the kitchen and y’all can fight me about it because his knife skills are canon and you best believe he learned it to be more independent

He’s been experimenting with new cooking recipes and is a master at making something out of practically nothing in his fridge, which is really handy when a trip to the grocery store is long overdue

He sends you pictures of his dishes and your responses are all praise and none of it’s exaggerated either; this boy can COOK

Netflix Parties with the Bakusquad — the chat gets loaded with Denki and Kiri spamming and Bakugo yelling at them in all caps to shut up

Your lock screen is a picture of the group on Facetime and you all have filters on (somehow you got Bakugo to use one don’t ask how); literal friendship goals

And then it’s been about a whole month since quarantine started and Bakugo wants to come visit you, but his mom shuts that down quicker than Barry Allen in the Speed Force

He’s pissed because he and his family feel perfectly healthy but his mother will not let him leave under any circumstances

So when his parents go to visit some relatives who were more susceptible to the virus and needed help with a couple basic tasks you decide to sneak out to see him (in good health of course)

Imagine his surprise when his typically rule-following girlfriend calls and is already standing in his backyard, bags of groceries in your possession

***

Bakugo shot you an incredulous look as you sat at the kitchen table. “You know I could have just opened the front door for you.”

“Yeah, but going through the window was way more fun,” you defended. “It’s not like I’m very rebellious at any other time, so might as well live it up while I have the courage.”

The blond snorted, sifting through the numerous bags you brought along to his house. They were filled with an assortment of foods: vegetables, meat, rice, sauces and the like.

“What’s all this for?” he inquired, pulling out a bottle of teriyaki sauce.

You couldn’t help the small smile that grew on your face as your boyfriend curiously examined the items. “It’s for you to cook with, duh.”

“And how am I supposed to explain the new abundance of food in the fridge to my parents?”

“Say that I had it sent over through Postmates or something. Even I thought of that, Katsuki.”

He rolled his eyes as he placed down the last bag of items. “I can’t believe you snuck out and brought all this stuff,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “Thank you, babe.”

A faint blush rises to your cheeks, despite the fact you’ve been dating the first year student for a few months now. Girlfriend or not, verbal thanks from the King Explosion Murder was rare. “You’re welcome.”

Bakugo turned to the stove and started organizing a number of ingredients on the counter beside it, pulling out kitchenware from cabinets as he went.

“Since you’re here and all, I suppose I could make your dumb ass something,” he remarked.

Your eyes practically sparkled with excitement at the offer; you were hoping the blond would make you one of his iconic dishes eventually. A ghost of a grin was present on Bakugo’s face at the cheer that left your mouth, his back facing you as he got started.

You were quick to situate yourself on top of the kitchen counter, Bakugo lifting you by the waist to place you farther away from the flaming stove but still allowing you to watch as he worked. His knife skills were almost scary when chopping up the vegetables, the pace at which he was cutting them astonishing you, and the overall aroma of the space had your mouth watering before he was even close to finishing the meal.

“I feel like a judge on Master Chef,” you giggled, and the boy shook his head at the comment as he eyed a timer he had set for the pork he put on the stove.

“I’m pretty sure my girlfriend of a judge would be a bit biased over the contestants,” he pointed out.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, if he keeps looking this attractive while making food I think my bias is justified.”

He glanced at you perched on the counter top, and took a few steps in your direction, cupping your cheek in one hand to kiss you quickly.

“You’re distracting me,” the first year mumbled, running a thumb over your jaw. “Quit being so cute, dummy.”

You saluted playfully. “Yes, chef.”

He let out a soft laugh before moving back to silence the timer that had started beeping, alerting him that the pork on the stove was ready to go. The blond shooed you away and had you sit at the dining table as he took the skillet and turned off the stove flames.

As you waited patiently for Bakugo to finish up, you sang under your breath and set two spots at the table directly across from each other. By the time he was done, two plates of steaming food in hand, you were already sitting down and twirling a fork between your fingers.

“What did you end up making?” You asked as he set a plate of rice and pork in front of you.

“Tonkatsu,” he replied nonchalantly.

It smelled like absolute heaven, and your hunger was only emphasized in the midst of the fast food you had been surviving off of during quarantine. This boy was even good at presentation, and you began to wonder if he was just talented at everything he tried.

Bakugo took the spot across from you and watched as you took the first bite. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt a bit nervous that you wouldn’t like what he made. But that thought dissipated as quickly as it came once your fork flew into the meal for a second time, and you shot him a wide-eyed look.

“So good!” you exclaimed with a stuffed face, a few grains of rice falling from your mouth and back onto the plate.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full or you’ll choke, stupid,” he reprimanded, but your praise had an evident effect on the male as a smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I expect gourmet lunches from you at least once a week when school starts again.”

“Not a chance in hell that I’m doing extra work in the mornings.”

“I’ll buy you all the ingredients you want~”

“...I’ll think about it.”

Next thing you knew, all the food on your plate was gone, gladly relocated to your stomach. Rounding the table, you wrapped your arms around Bakugo’s shoulders as he also finished eating.

“Thank you for dinner, Katsuki,” you hummed contentedly, resting your chin on his head. “It was seriously masterclass, especially after all the takeout I’ve been eating.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he waved it off. “I think a movie of my choosing is in order.”

“After we clean up, hot shot. Your mom would kill you if she realized someone was over.”

“Why wouldn’t she kill you too?”

“Please. Your mom loves me.”

The blond barked out a laugh before standing up and holding your waist, ushering you back to the kitchen. “True.”

Cleaning up was quick and easy with the both of you working together, stocking away dishes and remaining groceries. The evening sky, visible through a large window in the living room, glittered with stars as you sidled next to your boyfriend on the couch, the kitchen and dining room returned to its normal prestige.

“Katsuki?” you murmured, voice laced with a touch of contented sleepiness.

He turned his head from the television screen to face you. “Hm?”

“I missed you, silly.”

An arm was thrown around your shoulder and you were pulled closer to the male, who gently kissed your temple.

“I missed you too, dummy.”

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #mha #mha headcanons #bnha imagines #bnha #katsuki bakugo headcanons #bakugo headcanons #bakugo imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou imagine #bnha fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fluff #imagines #boku no hero headcanons

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crimsonxblaze · 4 years

Text

of pleasant distractions

description: momo had an assignment to complete, but shouto thought otherwise.

words: ~1.7k

author's note: hello there! this is my first dip into the todomomo fandom, and honestly i'm both nervous but super excited. i hope i did these two some justice! i've been reading so many fics from them lately, i just had to write something. and there's nothing better than some todomomo fluff imo. i hope you all enjoy! hopefully i can write something longer next time.

[ao3] [ff.net]

She bit her lower lip in concentration, gripping the pen tighter between her fingers. Glancing at the textbook to briefly skim through the text once more, her brows furrowed slightly, trying to find the best way to condense the dense slab of information. The words seamlessly weaved together in her mind and without hesitation, her eyes drift back to her neat of written notes. Ink pressed against paper quickly, characters neatly written one after the other without pause.

Just over one and a half hours ago, classes at the academy had wrapped up for the day. In typical Momo fashion, the girl had politely sent off her classmates before making a beeline straight to her room in the dormitory. She'd changed out of her school uniform in record speed before taking her seat at her desk, books dumped all over its surface and a pen brandished in hand. Momo had been far too excited to start and complete the assigned homework, finding that the topic greatly piqued her interest and she'd wanted to work on it as soon as possible.

Of course, that had meant she'd needed to forgo a cup of tea in the midst of all her excitement, but she found she didn't really mind. After all, a cup of tea would be the perfect reward for completing the homework in such a timely manner, and it served as a great little motivator.

She was all too focused on completing the set of notes in front of her that she failed to hear the light knock on her door, signaling the presence of another. It also escaped her notice that the door slowly opened after the lack of response, a figure stealthily slipping inside thanks to the possession of a spare key entrusted to him. The trespasser quietly snuck up behind her, a fond smile stretched across his face at the sight of her so focused.

"Hey."

The voice made her jump a little, almost dropping the pen in her hand. She whirled around, looking up to seek the source of her interruption. At the sight of it being in the form of her boyfriend, languidly leaning against one of her bedposts, arms crossed as he flashed her a small smile, she surprisingly did nothing but offer him a small smile in acknowledgment. As though she somehow failed to comprehend the full weight of his presence, her head tilted to the right a just little, almost undetectable.

Then turned her attention back to the task at hand.

Completely tuning out the entire world, she concentrated on her almost filled sheet of paper. She gripped her pen again, finding where she last left off, and began.

So immersed was she that she didn't notice the way the figure frowned a little at her strange indifference, staring at her almost piercingly, before decidedly making a move. He crept closer and closer to her, silently like a cat.

Cold air tickled the back of her neck, her hair standing on edge. She glanced upward quickly, her curious gaze meeting a mildly amused one.

A brow was quirked in question, her only answer being the slight upwards lift of his mouth into what appeared to be a small smirk. Her brows furrowed, shaking her head at the sight and she turned away, ready to get back to work.

That was, until she found herself falling victim to the accumulated boredom of her boyfriend, yet again. In an attempt to somewhat occupy himself, he reached over to the back of her head, trying to loosen the restraints that bound her hair into that signature, gravity-defying ponytail of hers. Well at least, he tried to loosen it without her noticing.

He didn't want to fully distract her, knowing very well how cranky her mood got when she was unable to complete her task in the desired time frame, specifically homework within two hours. But he still wanted to spend a little bit of time with her, even if that time was spent trying to untie her hair. He did always like seeing her hair down, so it was a win-win situation for him anyway.

A surefire way to complete the task would have been to simply cut the restraints. He wouldn't have to deal with trying to slide down the hair tie, nor would it cause too much of a distraction to the girl. However he didn't want to accidentally slice off a few her beautiful locks, and he didn't have any blade available near him. So cutting it was off the table, but that was alright.

The dual haired male decided to go with the more effective, yet tedious route: simply sneaky. He did thrive on a challenge after all, and this seemed like a great one. Of course, it wasn't sneaky enough. He was no ninja.

He ended up on the receiving end of an annoyed glare as soon as his fingertips brushed her locks, an obvious sign that her usual patience, of which she had an endless supply, was slowly dwindling. Yet instead of trying to ignore him and continue, she predicted that he wouldn't stop until she somewhat reprimanded him (she wasn't wrong there). Momo flashed him a stern scowl, communicating the message that she wasn't finding his antics the least bit funny.

His lip curled, almost into a smirk, indicating his clear disagreement. He reached out to brush his fingertips against her hair again, Momo huffing as she twitched away from him. She was forced to break her vow of silence when she noticed him try to reach for her again.

"Shouto," she half-reprimanded, half-whined, the male in question quirking a brow at her.

"Yeah?"

She crossed her arms. "I'm trying to study."

Shouto's eyes gleamed in amusement, tilting his head. "I can see that."

Her lips pursed, dismayed by his response. In fact, she swore he actually enjoyed this, whatever it was he was trying to pull.

"Then what are you doing?"

His lips curved upwards, not replying at first. Instead, Shouto took a step forward, leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder as he gazed at her set of notes. As expected, her handwriting was incredibly neat, several words highlighted containing the most important points, and from what he could tell by a quick skim, she was working on recently assigned work.

Shouto's eyebrow quirked upward at this, not noticing the way the girl's cheeks flushed a bright pink at his show of affection. "This was just assigned an hour ago," he remarked, slightly amused but more so impressed at the girl's high work ethic. It was just like her to already be doing schoolwork after classes ended, unlike the rest of his classmates who took the time to lounge about or chat, opting to study much later.

Momo nodded, still not moving as he glanced at her side profile. Even if they'd been dating for a couple of months now, she still couldn't help but flush when the straightforward boy initiated a level of physical affection. Just the thought that he acted so tenderly only around her made her insides melt, as cheesy as it sounded. But this wasn't the time for melting, she was supposed to be reprimanding him.

"I wanted to start it as soon as possible. It was just so interesting to me, I couldn't help but want to conduct more research," she explained, her cheeks still tinged a little pink. Shouto couldn't help but smile at her explanation, already having expected it.

He hummed. "How much do you have left to go?"

She scanned her notes, "Not much. I just have one more section to summarize and then I'm done."

"Hmm," he began, looking at her notes thoughtfully. Momo quirked a brow, wondering what her boyfriend was thinking, before her onyx eyes were met with his heterochromatic ones.

"Are you going to relax after you're done?"

She slowly nodded, "I promised to treat myself with tea afterward. Why?"

He didn't reply immediately, stewing over her words for a moment. "Shouto?" She asked when he had yet to say a word. Momo watched as a small smile grew on his face, the girl suddenly confused.

"And me," he answered, only confusing her more.

"And you?"

Shouto nodded, softly pressing a chaste kiss against her temple before pulling away. She could only blink as he stood behind her, a hand slipped inside his pant pockets. "Tea and me, your rewards after you're done."

Momo blinked, taking a while to comprehend his words. A soft tinge of pink painted her cheeks at his proposition, biting her lip as she held back a smile. He really was the sweetest. It still amazed her to this day that the usually indifferent boy everyone knew he was, actually had quite a way with words. She couldn't begin to name a single day where he hadn't gone to make her blush because of something he'd said, Shouto's surprising yet very much welcomed smoothness, a little extra bonus.

"Alright," she met his soft smile with a determined grin of her own, her eyes alight with even more passion than in the beginning. "I'll finish quickly then," she promised, Shouto nodding.

"I know you will," he answered, moving to walk to her door. She raised a brow, about to question where he was going before he turned to face her.

"I'm going to go and make you some of that tea. Earl grey was it?"

She stared at him for a few moments, a little surprised but then again, this was Shouto she was talking about. He always did go out of his way just to care for her, and he was doing so much to her heart already. Momo's smile grew wider if that were even possible.

"Actually, I think I might have some green tea today."

Shouto quirked a brow, but his smile only stretched wider. He nodded in understanding, turning the knob of the door. "Green tea it is. I won't be long," he promised, stepping outside of her door and closing it carefully, so as not to make a loud ruckus.

Momo turned back to her notes, gripping her pen tighter in her hand. The smile never left her face as she began to write, eyes flicking back to the textbook passage again. She would finish this as soon as she could because not only did she make a promise she intended to keep, but there was a whole Todoroki Shouto brewing her tea. Her sweet, sweet, Shouto.

She definitely couldn't make him wait for too long.

#todomomo #todoroki x yaoyorozu #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #bnha #tdmm #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fandom: bnha #otp: icy hot creations #my fic #mine #its just fluffy fluff fluff

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tmarie82 · 6 years

Text

For Research

Pairing: Beckett x MC (Elliott)

Book: The Elementalists

Word Count: ~2,100

Rating: PG-13

Author’s Note: I love Beckett Harrington and I’m not ashamed. That adorable blushing magick man gets me excited for a new chapter of The Elementalists every week. Here’s a little snippet for Beckett and my MC Elliott as they explore the changing dynamic of their relationship after their first kiss. Enjoy!

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list. You can find all of my fics in my Masterlist on my homepage.

~~~~~~~~~~

The main hall of the library buzzed with quiet energy on this average Sunday afternoon as the small group sat around the long table with their schoolwork. The swirling sounds of soft whispered chatter, flipping of pages and scribbling of pens, along with the electrical sizzling of the light fixtures created the perfect sort of white noise that most students found soothing enough to aid in focusing on their studies. Elliott really was trying her best to focus on her Magick Spells 101 textbook, reading each section and documenting the highlights in her notes for future review. The fact that it took her reading and then re-reading each section at least two or three times was beside the point … she couldn’t help it if her mind kept wandering back to Friday night’s moonlit forest rendezvous with one certain handsome coed studying across the table from her. One certain handsome coed that seemed so intent on his own studies at the moment that he luckily had not noticed her frequent glances in his direction.

Elliott finished writing some gibberish notes in her notebook before flipping to the next page, the transition allowing the perfect opportunity to raise her gaze to study something (or someone) else again for a quick moment. Her eyes scanned over his hands, one casually tracing the lines of text in his book while the other curled his fingers around a pen. The same fingers that she had felt digging into the flesh around her hips less than 48 hours ago, holding her firmly against the tree and his body possessively. She glanced upwards to his face, his eyes narrowed and focused intently on the page in front of him. Her mind slipped back to that stolen moment in the forest, how dark his deep blue eyes had looked when he broke away to catch his breath, the fire and heat behind his stare making her stomach flutter with nervous excitement before he leaned back down to meet her lips again. And those lips … those perfectly shaped cupid’s bow lips pursed in a slight pout as he scanned the contents of the page before him, those same lips that had kissed her under the full moon again and again until she felt dizzy, the ones that now she couldn’t help but want to nibble until she bit that adorable little pout right off. To say that Beckett Harrington had caught her off guard the other night with his smooth advances and skilled caresses would be an extreme understatement. Beckett Harrington, the normally awkward blushing and bumbling nerd, had literally shocked the hell out of her. So much so that Elliott could think of little else for the last two days.

Beckett pushed back away from the table and stood upright nonchalantly, his eyes never leaving the notebook he carried in one hand. He started off towards the rows of bookshelves, mumbling something under his breath to his friends about “research” without so much as looking up as he walked away. Elliott watched him closely as he departed, her eyes scanning his broad shoulders and the curve of his yoga-toned body conspicuously from under her dark lashes. She shook her head and cleared her throat, hoping to set her focus back upon the task at hand now that her distraction had departed. Alas, three minutes and the same paragraph later, she resigned herself to the realization that she may need to conduct some research of her own.

Elliott flipped back through the last few pages of her textbook loudly, making a show of glancing between her notes and the book. She finally gave a frustrated huff, writing a few keywords down on a blank sheet of paper before tearing it out and standing up. “I’m going to go get a few books, I’ll be right back.” Her voice was slightly higher than normal, and definitely more cheerful than it should be for someone in the midst of studying. As she stepped back from the table she noticed Shreya smirking at her from the corner of her eye, that knowing look that told Elliott that she might not be as subtle as she had hoped. Luckily Griffin and Zeph seemed to not even hear her, and she slipped away before they had a chance to notice her departure.

Elliott headed to the back of the library to the walls of bookshelves that went on and on forever into the west wing, careful to reference her note paper as if on a determined mission every few rows when she passed by another student. Truthfully she was on a mission of sorts, just not the kind that would help her GPA in any way. Row after row she passed until she finally found who she was looking for hidden in the Natural Elements section. She cut the corner and waltzed over to him, the blood pumping in her veins as she came closer. Mesmerized in his book, Beckett didn’t even look up until she was right in front of him. A look of confusion spread across his face. “Elliott?”

Elliott took a deep breath, then made her move. “I was hoping to find you here. Alone.” She stepped up on her tip toes and cupped his face in her hands, pulling him to her as she crashed her lips upon his. Beckett gave a muffled cry of surprise, unable to move at first, but when Elliott opened her mouth and slid her tongue along the seam of his lips his surprise quickly melted into need. He closed the book he was holding, gripping it tightly in his hand and pressing it against her back as he held her tighter. They were lost in each other, their lips and tongues tangled together as their hands gripped each other fiercely, unwilling and unable to let the other go. So focused on each other that Beckett forgot himself, letting go … Thud!

Elliott startled and they separated quickly, both breathing heavily as they acclimated again to their surroundings. Beckett noticed the book he had dropped loudly, swooping down to retrieve it by her foot just when a librarian peeked around the corner. “Is everything okay over here?” She asked accusingly, her brows arched in annoyance.

“Yes, ma’am, everything is fine!” Beckett chimed in swiftly, his voice twinged with a squeak and his cheeks flushing. Elliott fought the giggle in her throat as she watched him try to recover.

The librarian scoffed and gave them a knowing look. “Please be more respectful with the books from now on, Mr. Harrington. And remember that the purpose of library is for reading, not for other activities …” her voice trailed off as she glared at the pair of them, and Elliott swore Beckett’s face turned a whole new shade of crimson.

“Yes, of course, we understand. We will be more careful next time.” Elliott jumped in, knowing very well Beckett would fumble over any further attempts of an explanation. The librarian nodded before turning on her heel and marching off.

Elliott turned back to a red-faced Beckett, then burst out into a soft chuckle as soon as she was sure the librarian was out of hearing range. Beckett’s own mortified expression gradually softened until he too was smiling, shaking his head as he raked a hand through his hair.

“Wow. I am soooo sorry.” He muttered, rubbing his hand across his jaw as he finally met her eyes.

Elliott giggled. “No, no don’t be. I’m the one that basically just threw myself at you in the library, so …”

Beckett’s face spread into a wide grin. “Yes, you did do that, didn’t you?”

“Well, I couldn’t help myself after spending the last two days thinking about that kiss on Friday. And besides, somebody had to make the second first move.” She gave him a flirtatious smile, cocking her head to the side playfully.

But Beckett’s smile fell quickly, his eyes widening in a look of shock and then guilt as he dropped his gaze to his feet. “Right …” he murmured softly, shifting his weight self-consciously from one foot to another.

Elliott’s heart sank, suddenly filled with fear and disappointment. Did I read the whole situation all wrong? Was the other night just a one-time thing, a casual fling after being caught up in the moment? “Beckett …” she started, her voice a little shaky as she tried to formulate her inquiry. “I’m sorry, I guess I just assumed after the other night that this was the start of something. But if you’re not interested, then I-“

“I am interested!” He blurted out, raising a hand swiftly as if he were going to reach out and touch her, then dropping it back to his side. He looked down again, remaining quiet for a few moments while Elliott observed him thinking quietly to himself. When he finally lifted his stare to meet hers, his eyes were soft and clear, glistening with sincerity as he started to speak. “I am interested in you, Elliott. I’m very interested. I just …” he shrugged, lifting his arms to motion between them, “I just don’t know how to do this.”

Elliott’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand, Beckett. Cuz you sure as hell seemed like you knew what you were doing the other night …”

Beckett sighed, his eyes searching hers for a glimpse of understanding. “Well, I kind of expected that the other night, or at least I hoped I’d have the chance to …” He shook his head, trying again to explain himself. “I mean, when you asked me to come to the party I had hoped we’d finally get the chance for something to happen. I was nervous, so I kind of … prepared for the situation.” His eyes slowly found hers again, but his nerves were more than obvious in his flushed face and neck.

Elliott tilted her head to the side and studied him closely as she processed his confession. “Are you saying you studied how to make a move on me, Beckett?” She tried to suppress the smile forming on her face, but was betrayed when the corner of her lips curled up slightly.

“I didn’t study!” Beckett blurted. “It was more of a mental pep talk and preparation. My god, when I say it out loud though …”

“I think it’s cute.” Elliott interjected.

Beckett halted his blundering to meet her steady stare. “Really?” Elliott nodded in response, and he felt some of the tension leave his body. As nervous as he was, he was not about to let this incredible girl go without giving it his best effort. Even if that meant going outside of his comfort zone. He took a deep breath and released it before starting again. “The truth is I really like you Elliott. You bring out a side of me that I didn’t even know was there. But I don’t know how to do this. How to act every day. How to be around a person that I want to kiss all the time and yet still maintain a semblance of responsibility.”

Elliott took a step forward and ran her hands up his arm, causing him to inhale sharply at their close proximity. “Are you saying, Beckett, that you want to kiss me all the time?” Her eyes flicked up to his, her stare teasing and pleading with him at the same time.

“Yes.” His voice was soft and raspy.

She smiled warmly, tracing her thumb along his defined jawline before cupping his face in her hand. “I think you should trust your gut more often, Beckett. There’s no wrong way to do this. Just do what feels right. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Beckett’s heart swelled as his mouth quirked into a small smile. “You are amazing.” He bent down and captured her lips with his, slow and gentle, no pressure and no expectations.

They finally parted, both with goofy grins on their faces like two lovesick puppies. “I guess we should head back.” Beckett suggested, Elliott nodding in agreement as he tucked the book under his arm. They started walking together towards their table, their arms grazing each other’s in the tight corridors as they walked side by side.

Beckett grinned as he glanced over at Elliott, watching her as he reached out his hand to grasp hers in his palm. She startled at first, studying him closely with wide eyes for any sign of hesitancy. Happily finding none, she smiled broadly before lacing her fingers through his. Beckett marveled at the comfortable silence between them, the simple gesture of affection of her hand within his. Whatever this was that they were creating together, he felt some reassurance in the pure fact that it just felt right.

END

~~~~~~~~~~

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#beckett x mc #beckett harrington #the elementalists #tmarie82 fanfic

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thorne93 · 6 years

Text

The Newcomer (Part 4)

Prompt: You’re Y/N Beauchamp, daughter to Wendy Beauchamp. When you’re sent away to Spenser Academy, you have no idea what waits for you there…

Word Count: 1743

Warnings: language, violence, anger…

Notes: This is for @xx-multi-fandom-imagines challenge! Crossover of The Covenant, and the show Witches of East End. Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @carryonmyswansong. Wouldn’t be possible without brainstorming with @carryonmyswansong, so thank you for that, darlin!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caleb wasn’t exaggerating when he said it was a lot to take in. He took you to the library in his mansion where the boys pieced together their own histories for you. Tyler told you about the Simms, Reid filled you in on the Garwins, Caleb the Danvers, etc.

They elaborated more on spells they could cast, such as a Darkling. Darklings could manifest on their own. They could come in the form of a dead spirit. Or it could be a real spirit itself warning someone that possesses their type of magic of death. Seeing a Darkling was never good, it was usually an omen.

They explained to you that they didn’t want to use out in the open, so you respected that. Caleb seeme the most conservative with it, probably due to his dad. Reid on the other hand was so lax with it, it hurt you to watch him abuse them sometimes.

But, you tried to do everything to keep him from needing to use them.

Whenever possible, you used a copy of Freya’s Brain-batch brownies. A special batch of brownies that helped sharpen the mind. It was like a temporary eidetic memory. Anything that someone had seen or heard in the last month was instantly accessible, like a computer without any lag. It came in handy for tests. It wasn’t cheating because it used the person’s own memories, it just sped up the process and sharpened the processing.

The guys really liked your brownies and were thankful that you were willing to use your powers and share them with them.

To show your appreciation of them taking such good care of you, you got them each little enchanted gifts over the course of a few weeks. After you poured your heart and soul into ideas for them, you began gifting them.

First, Pogue’s was a bewitched helmet. It would protect him even if a semi-truck hit him.

“You got this for me?” he asked as you handed it to him in the shop.

“Yeah. I figured you know, to say thanks,” you said with a shrug. “Try it on, make sure it fits.”

He pulled it on and sported it around for you for a minute before taking it off. “So… what’d you do to it?”

“Why do you always think I have an ulterior motive?” you asked, sounding hurt.

“Because you do,” he reminded with a laugh.

You returned the chuckle as you nodded. “Well, it may or may not be enchanted,” you said with a shrug.

“I knew it. Is this… okay? It won’t shine a light for your grandfather will it?”

“The King? No,” you assured with a shake of your head. “A measly little helmet isn’t going to do that. But that isn’t all…” You walked over to his very expensive, brand new Ducati. You waved your fingers over the bike three times, chanting a spell you’d heard Ingrid do once on her brand new car.

“Now what the hell did you do?” he asked as he sauntered over to the bike, examining it for changes.

“I simply made your bike so that it would never need to be repaired. Aside from oil and gas, this baby is ready to travel coast to coast every day for the next fifty years,” you informed with a gleaming smile, boasting your powers a bit.

“Oh man. Wow. Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” he said before he punched you lightly in the shoulder.

“I perish the thought, Perry,” you teased before sticking your tongue out, making him laugh.

Next was Reid’s. Which was an enchanted ring that only activated at his touch. It was a dragon that curled around itself.

The two of you were standing in his dorm as he took the little velvet pouch from you and dumped the ring into his palm?

“Jewelry?” he asked incredulously. “I’m not really a dragon man but…”

“Forget about the dragon. Put it on,” you instructed.

He gave you a curious look but obliged. Once it was on, it tightened around his finger and the jewel in its eye seemed to illuminate.

“Woah, shit. What’s it doing?” he asked, jumping back a little, intrigued more than anything.

“It’s a protector. It’s first job is to protect you, but I know how sometimes you hate sitting in class. This will give you an illusion to cast. The illusion can talk, respond, think just as you would, but you can leave it undetected.”

“That’s badass,” he noted. “So how long? How do I get away without being spotted?”

“Whenever you want to leave, wave your other hand over the dragon, say ‘exitus’ and it’ll cloak you while it creates an illusion based on your current state. You'll have about sixty seconds to get away before you’re spotted again.”

“Wait, but even if i skip class, I’ll still be missing information, which means I’ll flunk.”

“Oh, didn’t I mention the ring is also a recording device? As soon as it’s activated, it starts.”

“Holy shit. You thought of everything,” he complimented as his gaze danced between you and the ring. “This is awesome.”

You shrugged with an impish grin. “I try. I know you’d like to use your powers to escape so… maybe this will help. But don’t abuse it! Please?” you requested. “I don’t want you falling behind and then your mom is coming to find me to beat my ass.”

“Hey, I’d never let that happen,” he assured before throwing his arm over your shoulders. “But I won’t abuse it. Promise.”

“Thanks, Reid.”

Following that was Tyler. His gift was a tad more practical, but he needed it.

Sitting in the library, he was swamped with books.

“Hey, Ty,” you greeted as you sat down across from him.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Busy studying?” you questioned.

He didn’t glance up at you at all, he merely responded, “Yeah. Sorta. Could we catch up later?”

“Oh, yeah sure, I just need to give you this,” you said, sliding a royal blue book with gold patterns on it towards him along with a black fountain pen. “I’ll be off now.”

“Woah, what the hell is this?” he asked, picking it up. “Is this more homework from Chem? God I swear--”

“It’s not schoolwork, dude,” you assured. “This is a Learner Ledger,” you informed proudly.

“A what?” he wondered, a trace of annoyance in his tone.

You heaved a sigh and yanked the book back, opening it. “Put your notes in here. Write down whatever you hear in lecture or learn here. Tap the pen, this pen exactly against the last page of notes. The ink will disappear but all of the notes will be here.” You reached up and poked him in the forehead.

“How is that different than taking notes or your brownies?”

“I’m glad you asked. The brownies are temporary, mainly right before an exam. These will help with pop quizzes and finals. Not to mention, how often have you taken notes and actually retained anything?” you teased and he threw a crumpled up ball of paper at you. You laughed as you swatted it away. “Hey, I’m just saying. I can take this back if you want,” you said, starting to pick it up.

Quickly, his hand was across the table, grabbing for the book.

“I’ll take the damned book.”

“Atta boy,” you said with a wink before you got up.

That only left Caleb. What could you possibly get a guy who never used magic, rocked on the swim team, studied hard, and never asked for a single thing?

But that’s when it hit you. You pulled out your potions handbook that Freya had made for you and looked for what you needed.

It was only a few nights later that you showed up at Caleb’s doorstep, pizza and a two-liter in hand.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a touch of fondness and shock. “What brings you by?”

He stepped aside to let you in and you explained, “Well, I’ve been giving each of you guys gifts. Sort of a...well a thank you for all that you’ve done.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he assured. “We’re happy to take you in and look after you.”

You shrugged and nodded. “I know, but what kind of Beauchamp witch would I be if I didn’t graciously thank my new witch family?”

He grinned widely at you. All of the boys had gotten to know a lot about your family’s history -- what you could remember and what you’d been told. Not to mention, each of them inquired about you to their families that filled in the gaps as well.

“Fair enough. So my gift is pizza? I heard you gave Pogue an enchanted helmet…” he said with a raised eyebrow.

You laughed lightly. “I did. But no, the pizza isn’t your gift. Could you show me where your mom keeps the alcohol?”

Caleb hesitated for only a moment. He didn’t like people knowing about his mom, but with it being a small town, everyone knew. However, you were different. You’d been over to his house enough to know the problems that went on at home. You’d even been by several times to see his father, help with errands. You were just like the other boys, a part of the family. He didn’t keep things from you, and he even confided in you once about his mom’s alcoholism.

“Uh, sure,” he said uneasily. “What’s up?” he asked as he started to usher you into an ornate den.

“I have something that I think might help both of you.”

He showed you to a cabinet that was full of liquor bottles.

“This,” you said, holding up a small vial full of candy green liquid, “is a healing potion.” You uncorked one bottle and put a drop in, repeating the process as Caleb watched you. “So now, when your mom drinks, every drink will heal her. It won’t be addictive though. So she’ll feel better, but she won’t put together that the alcohol is doing it.”

“Damn. That’s pretty good,” he complimented.

“I know!” you boasted with a proud grin. “That’s my gift to you,” you assured, taking his hand and squeezing gently. “The other part of my gift is a night off from taking care of everyone. You and I are going to have a movie night, with pizza and drinks, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

@cocosierra94

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@sorryimacrapwriter

@glitterquadricorn

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm

Sebastian Stan:

@nedthegay

@lostinspace33

@alwayshave-faith

@elleatrixlestrange

@buenostardissherlock

@lenawiinchester

@the-red-world-of-jess-chibi

@memory-of-a-goldfish

@shamptain-shmerica

@crazybutconfidentaf

@esoltis280

@alwayshave-faith

#the newcomer #chase collins x reader #chase collins fic #chase collins #the covenant #the covenant fic #witches of east end

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gabriel-solares-blog · 6 years

Text

( he/him ) why the fuck would [ OSCAR ISAAC ] want to live in sunset court? oh – i guess that’s just [ GABRIEL SOLARES ], a [ THIRTY FIVE ] year old [ COMPUTER ENGINEERING MAJOR ] from [ CARLSBAD, CALIFORNIA ]. i’m pretty sure he’s been in los angeles for [EIGHT YEARS ] and in [ 4D ] for [ TWO YEARS ]. i heard he’s in los angeles because [ HE WORKED TO PUT HIS LITTLE SISTER THROUGH SCHOOL BEFORE STARTING HIS OWN MAJOR ] and that he’s been [ WORKING MULTIPLE JOBS ] so he can pay his rent while he’s chasing his dreams. pretty wild, right? anyways, i heard that he’s [ HUMOUROUS ] and [ CHARMING ], but can also be [ SARCASTIC ] and [ NON CONFRONTATIONAL ], so watch out. ( Mouse, CST, She/Her )

Hello all my name is Mouse, and yes that is my ACTUAL NAME not an alias because my mom is a weirdo- my siblings’ names are Carlton and Joyanna though, so I figure I got off easy. I’m 24. I was a homeschooled jungle freak (if… you could Kansas as the jungle… which… you shouldn’t….) and thus I have no social skills to speak of, which is honestly preferable to living out in this shit state as a gay raised by gay moms. I just started college because I’m a trash child with anxiety and am currently living in a shitty apartment near campus with my wonderful girlfriend and our three chihuahua mutts. I like to do lame things like cross stitch and write poetry. (And yes I totally did just copy/paste this from Kiara’s intro post ayyooo)

This goober is Gabe and he’s a sweet bun of a man, dare I say the only straight man who has never disappointed me??? Perhaps.

BACKSTORY

Gabriel Solares was born to childhood sweethearts Matias Solares and Gloria Perez. Both children of immigrants, they grew up in the same neighborhood, started dating in high school, and had Gabe shortly after graduating college. They were very happy, if a little codependent, and soon (how soon depends on who fills my wanted connection wink wink nudge nudge) they had a little girl whose name is up to player.

When Gabe was ten, his mother had a sudden brain aneurysm after dropping him and his sister off at school- and his father absolutely fell apart. He stopped taking care of himself or his children, started drinking, disappeared for days- even weeks- at a time, and it was largely left up to Gabe to take care of his sister. He knew that if the school were to find out how his father was neglecting them they’d be taken away and more than likely separated, so he did all he could to attempt to make sure that no one knew. He learned through trial and error how to do laundry, scrounged for change to buy sandwich materials when his dad failed to buy groceries, and when there was no change to find, he stole food or went hungry in order to keep him and his sister fed. He has a vivid memory of feeding his little sister canned vegetables for dinner because there was nothing else to eat, ignoring the growling in his own stomach by reminding himself he would be able to eat breakfast at school.

In the end, people started noticing little details that clued them in. Child Protective Services showed up on his father’s doorstep a year and a half after his mother died and and instead of getting his act together, Matias relinquished his parental rights to the state. Gabe and his sister were placed in foster care and over the next six years lived in over twenty foster and group homes- facing a variety of abuses. They stayed together most of the time once their case worker figured out that putting them in separate placements largely lead to both of them running away and living on the streets until local law enforcement managed to catch up with them, normally somewhere around a week or two later.

Anyone who had to deal with Gabe quickly realized that he wasn’t a bad kid. He was intelligent, witty, and generous- quick to crack a joke to diffuse a tense situation or offer a helping hand. His schoolwork was always beyond reproach, and while he resented being made to help with anything, if left to his own devices he would normally offer to take over household chores. However, he was extremely protective of his sister and his possessions and wasn’t afraid to become physical in defense of either. He ended up in a group home for troubled boys for fighting with other foster children, and at sixteen Gabe found himself in handcuffs after a foster father hit his sister hard enough to warrant stitches and he put himself in between both of them and punched the other man.

He finished school early a year later and applied for emancipation, filing for custody of his sister and working multiple jobs to pay their rent. To Gabe, it felt like the first time he was able to take a full breath since their parents died- finally he didn’t have to worry about where they’d be shipped off next, or if they were going to decide to separate them again tomorrow. He should have been able to relax, but found it wasn’t quite in his nature. He’d spent so much of his childhood worrying about him and his sister, it wasn’t something he could turn off- but now at least he had a little time to spend on himself and his own interests- starting several side businesses in addition to his multiple day jobs ranging from teaching guitar, computer repair, yard work, and dog walking and training. When his sister graduated high school, they moved to L.A in order to be close to her college choice, and he continued on as he had been, only now he gave all his spare money to her to help pay for school. I imagine they argued long and hard about her going to school before he did, but Gabe would have been insistent.

After she graduated, they found Sunset Court- which was significantly cheaper and nicer than their current apartment and moved in a few weeks before Gabe’s classes started. He had a lot of misgivings going to school so late in the game, and I imagine that sometimes he’s very self conscious about being the ‘old man on campus’, but he wants to finally be able to relax and enjoy his life a little more- something he can’t do when he’s constantly scrounging for money.

PERSONALITY

THIS BOY IS A G O O F. I mean seriously, he’s like if Eric Foreman, John Dorian, and Jesse from Pitch Perfect had a love child. Awkward humor af, constant finger guns, being so charmingly annoying you can’t even deal with him.

On the one side of things Gabe is a very intense, hardworking person. He truly gets antsy when there’s nothing for him to do, and he’s prone to finding something when that happens. (It’s normally something very nerdy and/or unneeded home improvement, tbh.) He has a lot of trauma from his childhood, and while he jokes about it often it’s only something he’s really just now starting to acknowledge. He’s SO INTENSE about money and finances, his monthly budget is something of legend and he’s the kind of person who will loan you money if he can, but don’t expect him to ever forget about it. His space is very much HIS and he cannot deal with anyone upsetting anything in his room, and he hates clutter in the main area- though he’s normally too tired or worn out to worry about it enough to clean it.

On the other hand he’s very much a laid back boy next door type. He plays video games, collects guitars, sings ridiculous made up songs to himself while he works, and shakes his butt to Cardi B songs while he makes cereal. Just a goofy goober through and through honestly, and I can’t wait to see how he interacts with other characters here.

PLOT IDEAS

Your character hears Gabe singing and playing guitar on the balcony and either comes out to listen or tell him to quiet tf down

Your character was a foster kid around the same time Gabe and his sister was and they maybe lived in the same house for a little

Gabe repairs your character’s computer/walks their dog/teaches them guitar/etc and they become friends

Gabe falls asleep somewhere weird because he’s a little overworked narcoleptic and your character happens upon him like ???? (ngl every time I play Gabe I cruelly throw him in weird situations by having him fall asleep somewhere weird and wake up to something odd happening around him lmaooooooo)

Or if you have an idea, hit me up! I’m hype to get started!!!

#wtla; intro

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edgy-fluffball · 7 years

Text

Happy New Year, Amigo

I wrote something for New Year’s Eve, initiallywith an estimated word count of 2,500 words... now there are 6943. I really cannot write short things.

Anyways, Happy New Year to everyone reading this! May 2018 be a year filled with happiness!

‘Are you ready, Steven? Your father and I want to leave at four!’

‘No, Mum, I’m not ready yet. Why are you already stressing out, it’s barely noon!’ Steve looked up from his schoolwork and rolled his eyes at the closed door.

‘We’ll be in the car for more than three hours, Steven, and we really need to leave on time to make it until eight!’

‘Yes, Mum!’

His parents had told him to be prepared in case they wanted him to join them at the party they were to attend. He had deflected by talking about homework. A tiny part of his mind had hoped they would leave it at that. Hearing his mother from the hallway brought reality closer again, Steve was reminded of how he could not outrun the duties his father pushed onto him.

‘I just want us to be on time and prepared, Steven, can you understand that?’

‘Yes Mum, I get it and I appreciate telling me early enough,’ he got up and opened the door to let his mother in.

‘I thought you and Nancy would need a bit of time to get ready once your father had decided to take you.’

Steve stopped dead in his tracks, one hand stuck into his wardrobe, the other one holding the loose door back to keep it from hitting him in the back. He turned around to face his mother who smiled at him with the brightness of a sunray. She held a few folded up, ironed shirts in her hands that belonged in Steve’s dresser.

‘What do you mean?’ Steve turned around completely and ran his fingers through his hair.

‘Well, your father thought it could be boring for you on your own at this business dinner, so he notified the host that he would take his son and a companion. Isn’t that considerate?’ His mother practically beamed, and yet, Steve felt the infallible whirring swell in his ears that signified a freak-out.

‘Mum – Nancy and I broke up. Two months ago, did you not catch that? I know I told you, I even remember the day; it was two days after I got into that fight in November…you didn’t listen to me, am I not right? Tell me I’m not right!’

His mother did not manage to answer, instead she just stared at him, polo-shirts held out for him to take, her look at him empty. Steve sighed and took the clothes from her hands.

‘It’s okay, Mum. I shouldn’t have reacted that testily,’ Steve put the shirts and a single sock away.

His mother still stared at him when he turned back around from his dresser, her arms now hanging down her sides without purpose. She was already wearing the new jewellery she had gotten for Christmas, and her sequinned dress for special occasions, most of them being business dinners.

‘Where are we going exactly? Dad said we would visit friends?’

His mother seemed to perk up, ‘Chicago, Steven. We are invited to celebrate New Year’s with the Corveys, I don’t know if you remember them, they host a dinner every year. Your father got to do business again with Mr Corvey this year. His company re-joined the list of your father’s clients back in June but –‘

‘– now Dad needs to keep making an impression in order to keep him as a client. I know the drill, Mum. Is that why you wanted me to take Nancy as well? Because a dinner would be too boring for me to endure on my own?’

‘Actually, son,’ his father entered his room behind his mother, two ties in his hands, ‘it’s not a dinner. It’s a party. We will stay overnight at James and Linda’s, they were nice enough to offer us their guest room. Many of the big clients will be there and of course I was expected to attend as well, bring my family, and socialize.’

He turned to face the mirror Steve kept in his room, holding up the ties, examining them next to his shirt. A wrinkle formed on his forehead, he turned around again and handed the ties to his wife.

‘You are bringing Nancy?’

Steve felt his blood rush in his ears, he could taste something sour in his mouth.

‘I just told Mum, for the third time: we broke up!’

‘Well, ask her anyway. She could use a few contacts outside of Hawkins for sure,’ his father lifted a mustard yellow tie up to his chin and looked at his wife questioningly, ‘I wouldn’t let such a hiccup stop me from doing something for her, son.’

Steve swallowed dry, ‘I can’t, father. We broke up, she has a new boyfriend now – and you know that the Wheelers celebrate New Year’s together with the Byers every year, anyway!’

‘Well, I can’t show up at the Corvey’s with just my son, what impression would that make? Think of something, Steven, I told James I would come with your mother, you, and a companion for you. It is up to you to find someone that will come along to fill up the table we will be sitting at. Mrs. Corvey doesn’t like empty chairs.’

Having said that, he left the room, leaving his wife to shrug apologetically. Steve could not bring himself to get annoyed. He knew the drill, indeed. First, his mother would suggest something seemingly private, something nice where they could maybe talk and spend some time together – then his father would come out with the truth. Usually, that meant business talks, duties to fulfil, and roles to play.

Still, he never gave up hope. Not once had he resigned and told his mother to save it, not once had he not even thought about the possibility that this time, out of all the times they had come to him, would be the one time they meant for it to be family time.

‘I put your suit in the bath room, sweetheart, pick a nice tie for me and we are all set,’ his mother smiled at him, ‘and maybe you can still find someone to join us. Don’t you know someone who might want to get away from Hawkins for a night?’

Steve shook his head and dropped back onto his bed, ‘I’ll think about it and make some calls, Mum. Thank you for letting me know so early.’

He couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice this time and his mother left, following her husband downstairs, without saying another word. Steve dropped onto his bed, covering his face with his hands. There was no way Nancy would agree to come to Chicago on New Year’s Eve to play happy family. There was no way Steve himself would play along in the scheme he had left years prior. Only his mother’s kind smile and the honesty in her eyes when she lied to him let him agree to their shenanigans whenever they came to them.

It was two before he rolled out of his bed and started to actively think of an alternative to Nancy. Tommy and Carol didn’t even cross his mind, the kids were too young and uncontrollable and every other person from school he could think of felt just out of place. None of them would be able to blend in with a cheery, colourful crowd; none of them would be able to carry on a conversation; none of them would be able to leave Hawkins’ greyness behind.

Except, there was one person, one person who hadn’t grown up surrounded by woods and gloominess, one person who possessed enough charm to bewitch a room full of stones – one person who would not be caught dead in the same room as Steve or a bunch of business people. He put a jacket on – the suit would only wrinkle – grabbed his car keys from his desk and made his way downstairs.

‘I’m trying to get a friend to go with me,’ he yelled down the hallway, where he suspected his parents were, ‘See you later!’

Speeding down the road, he thought of what he was going to do. There was a thin line between annoying his parents and risking his life, and he intended to play on the factors that would either help or disrupt his plan, exploiting the grey area that opened up along the line. He turned the volume on his radio up, trying to block out the nagging feeling that he was doing something stupid.

When he pulled up in front of the simple house he felt his heart beat in his throat. He walked up the few steps to the front door, lifted his hand and knocked. He listened carefully, waiting for the faintest sound inside. Once he had heard steps he put on an expression that hopefully seemed bored enough for his cause.

He had never seen the man opening the door but Steve forbid himself to show any interest. Instead, he drawled a ‘Hi.’

‘And who are you?’

‘My name’s Steve. Steve Harrington. I’m here for Billy?’ Steve had heard enough about Mr. Hargrove from Max to know he had to be careful, ‘I wanted to ask if he might want to join my family for New Year’s.’

‘Well, Steve, in this household we celebrate together as a family. I am sorry but you will have to do without my son tonight.’

Steve didn’t miss the edge in Mr. Hargrove’s voice but he had a mission to accomplish. Uncowed he swayed on his heels.

‘It’s just this huge business dinner in Chicago. My Dad would like me to bring someone else in case he finally finds someone with an eye for the business – I guess I’m too big of a disappointment and he needs someone to shine. It’s a lot of playing nice and making conversation, I just now that Billy is good at that stuff, and he might get some insight and contacts out of it…’

‘And you thought of my son?’

‘I’m on the basketball team with Billy. We talked a few times and he mentioned being interested in business transactions, and when my Dad approached me today, I thought of him. That’s…why I’m here.’

Mr. Hargrove still eyed him suspiciously, ‘He could go to Chicago with you and your parents, celebrate New Year’s with a bunch of businessmen, and establish contacts that might help even my useless son to gain a foothold in the professional world?’

‘All he needs to do is put on a suit and be ready at four, we will pick him up and –‘

‘You are not going to tell him yourself?’ Mr. Hargrove crossed his arms over his chest, ‘He’s upstairs, in his room.’

He stepped aside, motioning for Steve to come in. His gaze followed him as he climbed the stairs and made his way to the one closed door in the hallway. Metallica blasted behind it. Steve swallowed dry. Facing Mr. Hargrove and lying to him seemed easy compared to what came next in his plan.

His knock went unnoticed, Steve opened the door and stepped inside the room. Again, he forced himself not to look around. A single moment of inattention could lead to a broken nose or worse, he reminded himself.

‘Harrington? Look what the cat dragged in – looks like the fucking queen of nitwits! Do you want to start the new year as the official –‘

‘I’m offering you the opportunity to start the new year far away from your father, in Chicago. Also, it will piss off my father. What do you say?’

Steve had not felt certain about his plan before standing face to face with Billy. The surprised look the other boy showed on recognizing him, however, made it worthwhile. They stared each other down, both eager to come out on top.

‘You don’t like me, I get that,’ Steve felt like he was giving in, it pained him to be the one making the first move, ‘but Max told me a few things and I got the feeling that New Year’s with a bunch of strangers might be the more enjoyable option. Which is what I’m proposing, I guess.’

Billy didn’t respond but came closer. Steve cleared his throat, ‘Your Dad thinks we at least talk, don’t ruin that by decking me. May I explain?’

‘You went to my father first to ensure I wouldn’t get to you? That’s actually cleverer than I had expected from you.’

Steve chose to ignore the hidden insult, ‘My parents attend a party in Chicago tonight. There will be mostly clients and possible future clients of my father’s, he told me to come and take someone else as well. Since I do not intend to just be meek and mild about it, I thought of you. It’s a win-win-situation really, I get to annoy my parents by taking the worst imaginable companion, and you get to stay away from your father for a night.’

He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for a reaction from Billy. For a moment it seemed like he was waiting to no avail. The reaction he got in the end was the one he had not expected: Billy barked out a laugh, deep and raspy, with an edge to it that had Steve shuddering.

‘Not bad, Harrington, not bad at all. I’m impressed, honestly – who would’ve thought King Steve to be such a manipulative piece of shit!’ Billy had cornered him but Steve refused to be intimidated.

‘What do you say?’

Billy looked at him in silence for another twenty seconds, Steve started to count in his head to keep himself occupied without worrying about what could happen next. Then, he stepped back suddenly.

‘You want to piss of your parents, pretty boy? What do you need me to do?’

Steve could just barely hide his sigh of relief, ‘My parents want to leave at four from my house, can you be there on time with things for one night? Also, as it is a pretty fancy event, a suit would be appropriate, sensible shoes and maybe not the leather jacket. Also – button your shirt up, will you?’

‘Funny, Harrington, now who wold have thought that?’ Billy licked his lips, grinned and nodded towards his wardrobe, ‘I guess I’ll be seeing you at four.’

Steve took his leave after that, he passed Mr. Hargrove on his way out and slowed down for a moment.

‘If Billy could be at my place at four, that would be good. I’ll give him a lift tomorrow morning. Have a good night and happy new year,’ he repeated and smiled at Neil Hargrove, ‘Nice to meet you, Mr. Hargrove.’

He extended one hand that the man shook, then Steve returned to his car. Once he sat behind the wheel he felt himself relax a bit. He had survived something Max had called ‘a disaster’, a visit at the Hargrove’s. Even more, he had a companion for the Corvey’s New Year’s-Party that should be the talk of the party. Maybe Billy was even more interesting that his own plans for the future, which Mr. Corvey liked to discuss in front of him with his father, but without Steve’s participation.

His mother was already waiting for him when he arrived back home, fussing about the time remaining and the still missing companion. Steve warded her off by locking himself into the bath room. He needed to take a shower and do his hair before Billy came over.

He finished up just before four by pulling his heavy wool coat on. The last thing he did before leaving his room, was double-checking his looks in the mirror. He had opted for the usual for an occasion like this, his hairdo a little tamer than at school but with a few extra curls because he hadn’t followed through on his whole blow-drying procedure, leaving the few baby hairs in his neck to air dry, curling in the progress. Before he even saw his mother standing at the door he could hear her talking to someone. Steve hurried downstairs, prepared to explain how he came to be friends with someone like Billy – but then, one glance had him stop dead in his tracks.

He hadn’t seen Billy with carefully combed hair before. It had lost its usual, dull appearance and unkempt look. Instead, he had slicked back his curls into a quiff with one strand dangling down at his temple. Even his clothes looked different from anything Steve had seen him wear, the evening of their collision had been as close to Billy looking smart as possible for Steve to imagine. He was taken aback by what he saw now. The first thing he noticed was the lack of skin showing. Billy had buttoned up his blue shirt up to his neck. His jacket looked a bit too wide for him; Steve suspected it belonged to his father initially.

‘Oh Steven, there you are,’ his mother plucked something in place on her head, ‘I just opened the door for Billy. Isn’t it nice to have him as well? You will have a playmate tonight!’

Steve just smiled weakly at her remark and set about getting his mother’s fur coat.

‘Please, let me,’ Billy smiled and relieved Steve from the coat, ‘this is a very nice fur, Mrs. Harrington. Is it mink?’

He left Steve standing in the middle of the foyer, offered his mother his arm, and led her outside, towards the car. Steve gaped at the sight, suddenly doubting his great idea of coaxing Billy into attending the Corvey’s party. Of course, he had heard about his charm and enchanting nature, but seeing it made a difference. He followed Billy and his mother outside.

To mark the occasion, his father had gotten the Porsche cleaned up and good to go. It got cosy inside the sports car, Billy and Steve had to squeeze their legs in the small gap between the seats to fit in. Steve heard his mother switch on the radio as soon as they had left Hawkins. His father preferred a drive in silence with nothing but the engine to be heard, whereas his mother would not drive longer than one hour without white noise in the background.

On this particular day it might have been the dead silence in the backseat as well. She turned the volume up on a particular song and began to sing along.

‘You’re from California, aren’t you, Billy?’ she asked, turning her head back to them, ‘Isn’t this fitting?’

“California Dreamin” blasted through the car as they drove towards Chicago in silence.

Steve dared to look to Billy’s side once, regretting it immediately. He spotted something like sorrow, sadness or longing, but couldn’t pinpoint which one in particular. Billy leaned his head against the window and looked out in the increasing darkness. To Steve it was obvious that Billy had not intended to be confronted with memories of California in any way on this evening, suddenly feeling bad for having caused it. Billy looked sad and Steve felt guilt pinching his conscience. Maybe the idea of getting him away from his father, even for one night, had not been the grand solution he had hoped for.

His own problems re-surfaced forty miles from Chicago. Waiting for it had made the otherwise eventless drive keep him on edge. With every exit they didn’t take, every street sign, Steve felt the impending obligations be lowered a bit more until his father looked at him in the rear view mirror.

‘Steven,’ more wasn’t needed, Steve knew what came next. He lowered his head to show he was listening, ‘You know well enough what is on stake today for the business. I will need you to make the best impression. Mr. Corvey knows you, he will want to talk to you about the future of our company. What will be your strategy?’

‘I will agree to whatever he says, show interest in made agreements, and attempt to lure him into making further connections.’

‘Attempt, Steven?’

‘I will make sure he won’t do business with anyone but us,’ Steve replied automatically, ‘Mr. Corvey will be pleased to hear that I will join the company soon.’

It hurt.

‘What is your strategy with Mrs. Corvey and her bunch of cows?’

‘Charms. She is going to be enchanted by my smile and pleasant conversation. If anything doesn’t go according to plan, she will be telling her husband to do business with us. So will the other wives.’

‘Good boy,’ his father looked ahead onto the street, a satisfied smile on his lips, ‘we can talk about your involvement in the company again once we get back. I might be able to get you started on more than an unpaid internship, if tonight turns out to be a success.’

Steve settled back against the window, exhaling quietly to not disturb the silence in the car. He felt lightheaded enough to almost miss his father’s last remark, a cold, stinging reminder of who he had to be.

‘Just don’t disappoint and embarrass me again.’

Steve closed his eyes, a reaction wasn’t necessary and not what his father wanted to hear, anyway. He ducked his head away, out of the range of the rear view mirror. His father didn’t need to see the tears in his eyes or the pain in the corners of his mouth when he pulled them up into the smile his mother liked so much – although she never saw it these days.

A slight stirring let him wipe at his eyes furtively before looking back up. He turned his head slightly, letting a shadow cover his eyes. Billy met his gaze, his eyes widened and filled with surprised bewilderment. Steve held the gaze for a moment before resuming to watch the lights outside the car chase by. He didn’t want to see Billy realize why Steve had asked for him to join his family.

The Corvey’s lived in a mansion in the suburbs, Steve knew their driveway from prior business meetings he had been dragged to. Billy, however, stared at the house with little less than stunned amazement in his eyes.

‘You come here every year, Harrington?’ he asked and fell behind a few steps.

Steve joined him, cautiously looking up to the house and the lit windows, ‘Yes, Dad and Mr. Corvey have been doing business for a few years now. We just don’t get invited to the New Year’s party usually.’

Billy nodded along, ‘So that means that your father is now making a big step towards doing regular business with this man?’

‘He became a client last year. My father needs to keep him on his list of clients,’ Steve felt his hands start to shake, ‘We need to help him.’

Billy stayed silent until they had entered the house. Mr. and Mrs. Corvey came to greet them, both dressed in the newest fashion trends, urging their housekeeper to take their coats. Even before Steve had been able to take it off, Mrs. Corvey already pinched his cheek, telling him how much he had grown and what a handsome young man he had turned out to be. She then moved on to his mother, assuring her that her son was just precious, a real gem, and surely popular with the ladies. Her double chin wiggled as she spoke and Steve felt the urge to flee before she would turn towards Billy.

‘Now who might that be?’

Steve cleared his throat, ready to introduce Billy, but his father was faster.

‘This young man here is William Hargrove, a friend of Steve’s. My son tells me he has an interest for the business and wants to sniff out possible contacts, if you understand what I mean,’ he laughed, his smile not reaching his eyes as he turned towards Mr. Corvey again.

‘Please, Mrs. Corvey – Billy is just fine,’ Billy grinned and kissed Mrs. Corvey’s hand, ‘You have a lovely home, Mrs. Corvey.’

‘Young man, you are behaving outrageously – one could think I were some kind of housewife! Please, let me show you the parlor. Bertie, take care of the Harringtons, will you? I seem to have found my piece of conversation for tonight!’

With that Mrs. Corvey dragged Billy away who smiled at her and continued to converse with her. She left Steve to her husband, Mr. Corvey motioned for him and his parents to follow him and fell in step with him.

‘Steven, your father tells me that you will join the company soon after graduating. Isn’t it wonderful to know your place in life is secure and already waiting for you?’ Mr. Corvey seemed to wait for Steve’s answer.

‘Yes, Mr. Corvey. It is a wonderful relieving feeling – and the prospect of working with such experienced and distinguished people as yourself is another motivator that cannot fail to impress me,’ Steve heard himself say scripted lines as if he had left his body to watch from afar how he got to say the one thing he always said.

‘Great! Great, my boy, you will love the work world, don’t I always say that?’

With this Mr. Corvey turned around to his father. The ensuing conversation included talks about business, partners, and mutual interests, topics Steve hated – but while his mother could join the group of wives at the buffet, he had to stay behind to listen to his father, Mr. Corvey and every other business man present at the party.

They had hired a band that played a few nostalgic songs, once in a while one of the painted ladies dragged her respective husband off to dance, a duty most of the men fulfilled with their faces barely containing the annoyance of being pulled from the conversation. Steve looked around. The first men had taken off their jackets, Mrs. Corvey insisted on all chairs being occupied or at least covered with a suit jacket. He knew he wouldn’t get to sit down a lot, so Steve took of his grey jacket and hung it over the backrest of a nearby empty chair. Immediately, he felt more comfortable. At least, he thought, the Roths didn’t seem to have come, he wouldn’t have been able to be in the same room with them.

He caught someone’s gaze across the room. Nice, blue eyes looked at him with an expression of worry that seemed to dull their shine a bit. It took him a moment to recognize Billy who was still surrounded by the lonely, chattering wives. Steve felt his breathing quite presently, he had not yet been able to eat anything and his stomach felt accordingly. A fluttering spread through his stomach and Steve prayed he wouldn’t collapse. Nothing would infuriate his father more on this evening.

‘Excuse me, sir, but do you need Steve right now?’

Mr. Corvey looked up at Billy, his watery eyes blinking rapidly, ‘No, not at the moment. Although we are discussing quite an interesting matter right now –‘

‘Oh I believe it is, Mr. Corvey. I had just hoped to get Steve to explain your wonderful buffet to me, I don’t speak French and am at a loss with the signage without him,’ Billy smiled easily, grabbed Steve’s arm and dragged him away as soon as Mr. Corvey nodded.

‘Thank you,’ Steve mouthed as they made their way towards the buffet tables, ‘I owe you.’

‘Not quite, Harrington,’ Billy took a plate and began to load food onto it, ‘I just balanced out our equation. You got me away from my father tonight, I got you away from the business talk. Will they miss you?’

‘Not my father and Mr. Corvey,’ Steve stood next to him and sighed, ‘I have done my part. And this year, it went according to plan. Let’s get out of here!’

He opened the balcony door, relying on Mrs. Corvey providing a space for the smokers. And just as he hoped, a garden table and chairs stood in one corner of the balcony, an ashtray on the tabletop, and blankets had been placed over the backrests of the chairs.

‘Now this is what I call comfortable,’ Billy sat, setting his plate down in the process, ‘how often have you been here on New Year’s? You seem to know this place through and through.’

‘Dad started to do business with Mr. Corvey in seventy-six and has been invited over ever since. I was always there, a cute little kid to weaken any argument against my father. Even businessmen tend to be kinder around a child, apparently.’

‘He used your cuteness?’ Billy started eating, Steve nodded and dug in as well.

A moment later he stopped, staring at Billy, ‘Did you just call me cute?’

Billy chuckled, it sounded even softer than the voice he had used on Mrs. Corvey and her companions. He pulled his packet of cigarettes from his pocket, put one between his lips and lit it. They sat in silence for some time, finishing whatever they had on their plates. Once they had eaten what the Corveys had provided, Billy sat straighter, examining Steve opposite from him.

‘What happened?’

‘What do you mean?’ Steve sat back, trying to escape Billy’s gaze as far as possible.

‘Your father is a lot worse than mine when it comes to hiding something. You embarrassed him? What happened?’

Steve felt blood warm his cheeks. He tried to think of something to reply, a jaunty line, but Billy stared at him, not even batting an eye in the process. Then he leaned forward, cigarette dangling from his lips.

‘You had a reason to get me here tonight, didn’t you? Something went wrong the last time, and you had to start the year with the feeling of having disappointed father dear. What happened that made my presence not only bearable but almost required?’

‘I thought you would distract them all from the usual stuff. The wives usually talk down on me as if I was still five years old, then men are focussing on their business talks and I’m not able to make use of that. You are the new factor, something more interesting than Steve Harrington rejecting the chance of his life.’

‘What chance?’ Billy sounded breathless for a moment, he tapped the ash off his cigarette and took another drag before offering it to Steve, ‘What could you possibly reject at a dinner party?’

‘Last year we were here along with another family, close friends of both my parents and the Corveys. The Roths are a huge name in the business, have been for generations. They used to work closely with my father, until last New Year’s,’ Steve took the cigarette from Billy and took a drag, ‘They have a daughter, Patricia. She used to be the only other person my age at these conventions of business people. Mr. Corvey, Mr. Roth and my father watched us grow up and meet at the parties. Last year they decided it would be good for their companies, if Patricia and I would get married. They told her first, she was delighted. And the, at last year’s dinner party, they told me.’

‘Weren’t you going out with the Wheeler girl?’ Billy frowned, ‘And also, arranged marriage?’

‘I wouldn’t call it that,’ Steve fidgeted in his chair, ‘Patricia is a sweet girl but I saw her more as a sister than a potential partner. I also told my father about Nancy but he wouldn’t have it. I refused to dance with Patricia, didn’t talk to anyone about business and apparently cost my father a few business ties. He has been adamant ever since. I am to join the business this year.’

‘Do you want that?’

Steve looked up. There seemed to be a spark of interest in Billy’s eyes, a spark that held curiosity and insecurity at the same time.

‘No,’ Steve heard himself say, ‘no, I want to be a policeman. Working with Hopper would be nice, keeping the dickheads out of trouble. Looking after people.’

‘Well, well, well, King Steve is a secret saint!’ Billy whistled through his teeth, ‘Who would’ve thought.’

‘Don’t mock me. You can make fun of whatever you like – just not of that,’ Steve turned away, looking out over the city, all visible from the balcony.

He heard the chair scrape over the stone ground as Billy got up. Without another word the other boy walked past him, back into the parlor. He took their plates along, leaving Steve to sit in his shirt and waistcoat. For just a moment he felt disappointed. He had told Billy about that stupid dream of his, helping Hopper, looking after the kids, and he had been met with sneering. It was better than his last New Year’s at the Corvey’s, still better than seeing the disgusted look on his father’s face whenever he remembered the moment his son had disgraced him in front of important business partners.

Steve shuddered. Chicago in winter could not be called pleasant and all he wore were a thin shirt and a waistcoat, even his jacket hung inside, and that was the last place he wanted to be at.

Sometimes it still hurt that both his parents forgot his presence and existence once he had played his part, said his lines and looked pretty. He still didn’t gave up hope. There would be a day, probably the one when he joined the business, when his father would look at him with different eyes. There would be a day when his mother would see him for what he hoped to be, a kind and loving husband and father.

‘Here, I got us something,’ Billy’s voice jolted him out of his daydream, ‘this should be good. I had to flirt with one of the women but in the end I could escape again.’

Steve looked up and into Billy’s smiling face. He carried a bottle of champagne, glasses and a bowl of chocolate mousse along with spoons. After setting everything down, he pulled his chair around the table until it stood next to Steve’s. Their arms touched for a moment when he sat back down.

‘I thought we could have our own party out here,’ Billy handed Steve a spoon, ‘No-one’s gonna miss us anyway and I got us almost everything we need. You should use those, though.’

Steve blinked at him, not able to follow what Billy said. A moment later, an arm reached out and pulled one of the cosy blankets around his shoulders. Steve felt his body stop shaking, only then realizing how cold he had been.

‘It didn’t seem very warm,’ Billy looked him over with bright eyes, ‘Nice, pretty – but not warm.’

He tugged at the blanket, tightening it around Steve’s body. Then, he got another blanket, placing it over his own shoulders. With the chocolate mousse bowl in his hands, he leaned back, offering it to Steve who scooped up a spoonful.

‘This should be nice,’ Steve licked some of the mousse off his spoon, ‘We still have another hour until midnight. Do you really wanna be out here?’

Billy nodded, ‘Why would I want to be anywhere else?’

‘Well, all those unsatisfied housewives in there will certainly miss you,’ Steve started to tap a rhythm onto his leg, ‘Out here it’s just me, and that can’t be who you want to start the new year with. You don’t even like me.’

Billy remained silent.

‘Okay, that was blunt. Very blunt. But I still don’t get it; yes, I got you away from your father for you to be my bumper. But now we’re out here eating chocolate mousse. It’s weird. Last year, I was waiting for the night to end so that could escape the plans other people made for me, tonight I don’t know what to do with myself.’

‘I don’t think you need other people making plans for you,’ Billy’s voice sounded breathy, as if something agitated him, ‘and for my reason to be here: my new year’s resolution is to be less of a dick. I thought starting earlier couldn’t hurt.’

Silence fell again, enveloping them in the calm feeling of amicability. Steve licked chocolate mousse off his spoon, Billy lit another cigarette. They didn’t need to talk much.

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Miss what?’

‘Your relationship. The Wheeler girl. Do you regret breaking up?’

‘No. No, I don’t think so. In the end, both of us were better off without the other,’ Steve smiled absentmindedly, ‘she and Jonathan fit together very well. I was nothing more than her dream of being something she isn’t.’

‘What are you to yourself then?’ Billy turned his head to look at him, ‘Are you keeping yourself from being what you could be? A policeman, a good friend, maybe more? Who would you become if you stepped forward and did what you want?’

‘Couldn’t I just return the question?’ Steve met his gaze and held it, ‘Who would you be if you took a stand? What would happen if you told Hopper what your father does? I know, Billy, neither Max nor you are very subtle.’

Billy, who had flinched at Steve’s words, relaxed a bit.

‘I guess I would do whatever I want to do. Make something out of my life, turn a pile of shit into something worth talking about. I’d go around kissing people for kicks and their reactions. I’d eat breakfast for dinner and the other way around. I would buy Max a new skateboard.’

Billy seemingly lost himself in thoughts. Steve sighed and sat up, one hand on the armrest.

‘I think I would really become a cop. I’d start looking for someone who really appreciates this true me, not the doll presented to the world by my parents. I’d dream of a family of my own, of kids that I would show what it means to be loved and cherished…’

‘Sappy!’ Billy interrupted.

‘Hopeful,’ Steve retorted, ‘Kids shouldn’t feel unwanted, redundant or like pawns in a bigger game.’

Again, silence enveloped them.

At ten minutes to midnight, Billy looked up from his mousse spoon. His cautious look crossed Steve’s, a hand came to rest on his.

‘We should pour some champagne,’ Billy said, ‘Will all those painted birds come out here?’

‘Onto the balcony?’ Steve huffed out a laugh, ‘No, they stay inside where it’s warm. They might watch the fireworks but usually they do it from the dining room window. It’s over there, facing the opposite direction.’

‘Good,’ Billy furrowed his brow, ‘very good.’

He opened the bottle of champagne and filled the glasses, ‘I think I should kiss you at midnight, pretty boy.’

A shudder ran down Steve’s spine, he felt a sensation unknown to him, similar to the fluttering of his stomach earlier, ‘Why would you want to do that?’

It came out nothing more than a whisper but Billy heard it anyway. He turned around, facing Steve with a seriousness in his expression that took his breath away for a second.

‘I think you deserve to be kissed on New Year’s,’ Billy shrugged, ‘plus I think you are pretty. That is all the reason I need.’

Steve felt his cheeks warm, the hand holding the champagne glass shook and he felt the stuttering in his stomach again, ‘Are you sure that’s it?’

Billy grinned, ‘Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe there is more and we get to find out. Isn’t that exciting? Our own experiment for the new year.’

He guided Steve, made him stand up and pulled at his waist until he dropped into his lap, ‘Why are you even wearing a fucking waistcoat?’

‘I like it,’ Steve looked into Billy’s eyes, ‘and I like your hair like this.’

Billy’s hand came up to fiddle with a few strands, but Steve caught it in his own and squeezed it, ‘Thank you for helping me out tonight. Thank you for listening. Thank you for seeing me.’

A church clock started to chime, inside the men and women gathered together to clink glasses and drink to the new year and good business. Outside, on the balcony, two boys did the same, clinked glasses and wished each other quietly a Happy New Year before setting the glasses aside.

Steve cupped Billy’s face in his hands and let his thumbs follow the lines of the other’s cheekbones. He remembered the fluttering in his stomach, only now realizing it to have been butterflies. He remembered Billy looking at him across the room. He remembered their talk on the balcony, the chocolate mousse, the champagne.

Then, he pulled Billy closer to press his lips on the others. A warm surge flooded his heart, filling him to the brim with joy. Two arms snaked around his waist, pulling him in, pressing him closer to the warm body in front of him. Steve smiled into the kiss, caressing Billy’s cheeks and deepening the kiss.

There were fireworks. Chicago celebrated New Year’s Eve, and so did Steve and Billy on the balcony of a mansion both would leave as different people in the morning. Yes, they would sit in the back of the Porsche without talking, but their hands would be entangled. Yes, it would be a hard year for both of them, but now they had each other to fall back on.

The silence in the car would be a content one because Steve and Billy had found each other in a cold winter’s night, brought together by the initial hope to shake up old ways. It would be Steve and Billy now, two boys waiting to find out what the new year had in mind for them.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #fanfic #happy new year #initially planned with a bit more action #still sweet #long post

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lackadaisical-pottymouth · 7 years

Text

A Rei and Eishi Thing

[Birdmen Radio AU]

Monetary bets remained off the table if they had the pleasant misfortune of playing with Rei. His poker face, a perpetual thing of calm bemusement, had invoked legends among the other radio hosts. It permeated tearoom whispers between breaks. Rumour had it he'd actually won the station in a high stakes mano-e-mano battle to bankruptcy. Others conspired that honeyed words had stolen the building from right under the previous owner’s nose.

Eishi, however, fancied himself somewhat immune to Rei’s charms. So when his boss came to him with heart and tickets in hand, his first response was, of course, a resounding no.

“You need to leave!” plead Rei with a smile that made the moon green with envy. More a fan of gossamer clouds, Eishi resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Paper documents spread in a collage on his desk and atop of that mess sat a sheaf of brochures. Barely-disguised excitement left Rei fidgeting in the seat opposite his. Weighing worst case scenario’s and the ETA for the pizza delivery guy, Eishi swallowed down his better judgement. “Okay, I’ll bite.” he pronounced, leaning forward to grab at one of the rust-coloured sheets, “What do you mean?”

A petulant huff and Rei readjusted his pin-straight posture to a slightly more relaxed variation thereof with no apparent loss of energy. “Come with me. We’ll find music, see sights--have you ever seen the museums? They have the most amazing aviation collection--”

Temptation almost squeezed the yes from his throat. It was forced down as Eishi regarded his friend and the puppy-dog eyes he flashed.

“--And the food,” Rei continued, an unhindered locomotion of tantalizing descriptions that plucked mercilessly at his resolve, “My goodness. The festival’s all day on a Friday, but the scene Eishi, the scene. Musicians everywhere. It’s the chance of a lifetime!”

Rei-induced affirmation danced on the tip of his tongue. He almost accepted, almost. But a niggling suspicion ground it to a halt, refortified his walls. Eishi narrowed his eyes, “Is this supposed to be a ‘Sagisawa and Son’ thing?”

Rei’s smile stuttered.

Bingo.

“It could be a Rei and Eishi thing if you let it?” offered however-tall of curls just as the buzzer shrilled of an arrival. Rei sent him his biggest, most charming smile.

Eishi indulged in the long awaited eyeroll as he exited the room.

A month later, his day off began with an annoyance that prickled at the base of his neck. Eishi attempted to roll his shoulders around it, distracting himself by tearing through sheaf after sheaf of marking.

The mess from his desk had been transposed onto the station kitchen. Assigning ticks or circles to the papers was more or less grunt work he’d been co-opted to assist with last minute while his prof tackled more pressing projects from more advanced classes. He forced his mind to remain focused while his hands worked, pointedly ignoring the mahogany door that led to Rei’s office.

Away from him, the station continued to bustle. Robin waved at him as she entered for her shift, her smile small and polite. Later, Fiona beelined for the coffeemaker in the 10-odd minute transition period. She didn’t regard him as she entered (he supposed he was to Fiona as death was to Gertrude--present, but usually ignored), but there was a fresh cup of coffee in his fav --er-- preferred mug when she left. He’d return the favour with a thing of dark chocolate.

An hour into marking and his mind began to wander. To schoolwork, the impending end of term. To station work and the newest crop of writings (the month’s theme was Winter Wonderland).To certain knowitall bosses and that damned closed door.

What was really annoying about Rei was that he’d somehow known. He’d known. And Eishi knew this because following the initial proposal, while he thoroughly sussed the venue and festival for any nasties or hidden bits, Rei had all the answers down to the tickets. Rei indulged in telling him everything, from venues to rumoured appearances, to icky folklore of the place.

Stupidly, dumbly, profoundly interested, he’d listened.

“All we need now is to go!” Rei had laughed the night before while Eishi chopped onions and cabbages and somehow turned a salad into croquettes.

“Who the hell is ‘we’?” he’d snapped, slamming down with more force than necessary as if to compensate for the absence of the stuff in his own voice.

Hell, even the hotel had been snagged in advance, a ridiculously fancy sort that probably rated in diamonds or obsidian rather than mere, plebeian, gold stars. The prickling feeling--annoyance, definitely annoyance-- spread to his throat and ears, arresting them in an itchy warmth. It was totally a Sagisawa and Son thing, he’d read the itinerary, knew it’d be a Sagisawa and Son and Weird Glasses Kid thing if he agreed to come.

(He could hear it now: This is my son, Rei. This is his third wheel.)

Ugh. The thought wrought horrors on his already flimsy resolve and his stomach stewed in eschew of the feeling. He pressed his palms to his eyes and relished the cold till white static stars filled his vision.

He could still leave, right? Go home, actually enjoy his day off?

Rei would clue in later that he’d -- almost! Almost had!-- a change of heart, probably. The over-kind tact that plagued him would stop him from saying anything till long after the trip. He could go and nothing would change except Rei.

Who--by the by--still hadn’t emerged from the mahogany doors and it was three-pee-ehm in the afternoon.

A quiet part of him registered that, Hey, bud, you could’ve sent a text, just as another regarded the garish ‘W’ on the countertop calendar, nearest Gertrude and the ugly, tawny, pot it stayed in.

Meeting day.

He mightn’t even be there.

Fatigue rested heavily on his temples.

Static splintered back to coloured specks and then again to a blurry variety of the white that foamed on the oak table. Tired fingers pressed the bridge of his nose as he began making estimates of how long it would take for him to pack up and be gone before--

“Eishi?”

He pinched his nose (nope, not a nightmare) and bit back a groan.

Slowly, too slowly, not slowly enough, Rei crossed the distance between the door and the table. Then came small talk as he peered over Eishi’s shoulder at the lab assignments he’d toiled over.

Words more or less drifted over his head as Rei recited routine topics. “Hi Eish’, it’s your day off, why are you here instead of getting some rest? Oh, is that marking? Damn, Dr. Saitou’s working you hard. Haha. Did you know I’m going on a trip? Of course you did, I asked you, I’m probably upset about that but I won’t say anything because I’m not an awful human being” --paraphrase courtesy of his mind.

At some point, he wasn’t quite sure when, he’d risen from the chair. Rei remained slightly crouched despite having ceased what he’d been saying. Worry quirked his eyebrows. A dry realisation noted that, for once, Eishi was the taller of the two. Eishi inhaled, once for luck and twice for oxygen, and then he was speaking.

“Listen,” he commanded, taking just a little too much pride in the way Rei flinched, “If we’re thinking of making the best of this trip, then we’re leaving in the morning and getting there by afternoon.”

Saucers would’ve envied the size of Rei’s eyes, the subtle gape of his jaw. Breathing, once, twice, Eishi continued, “And understand that I’m not doing any father-son bonding whatever, because I’m not a son, in case you didn’t notice, and your family business is yours.”.

The table brushed his hip and papers, disturbed, fell. He felt his fingers cold against his arms and straightened his back, “Is that fair?” he asked, biting against an apology lurking in the back of his throat.

Rei nodded up at him, his mouth still slightly agape.

“That being said,” Eishi continued, satisfied, directing his gaze instead to the percolating coffee maker, “I look forward to going on this trip with you.”

From the corner of his eyes he could see Rei’s lips pressed together, the crack of a smile spreading at the edges.

They spent the night before leaving in Rei’s house. His bags were piled on the livingroom floor-turned-loading dock. Eishi settled back on a beanbag in the absence of Rei’s over-excited mountain of fluff he passed for a dog. Discarded take out boxes completed the look.

The day before Disaster, he’d call it. Maybe take and send a picture of it to Kamoda when the encyclopedia of things to be packed had been downsized. He recounted the items to himself,

“Credit card, camera, gift cards, pepper spray--”

A confused call from one of the bedrooms. “Why would you need pepper spray?”

“--lock, key, the first aid kit, and a blanket and pillow.”

“I can’t find my shampoo.”(“Which one?”)”The peach one--it’s smaller? Came with a carry baggy even?”

“It’s at my place.” (“Really?”) “You left it there last time, never took it back.”

“That was a month ago!”

“And my hair thanks you muchly.”

Rei gasped, scandalized.

A gleeful tune tap-tapped on the rim of the steering wheel. “So,” Rei said, checking over his shoulder for traffic, “think we’ll get there in by dinnertime?”

Eishi pointedly-not-pointedly shot a glare at Rei, who had the audacity, the absolute nerve, to be awake and chatty at seven in the morning.

Wait, no.

They’d--no, not that, because it bloody well wasn’t true--Rei, had woken at around five and had proceeded to drag him out of bed. Because, and cursed be his past self from a month ago for doing this, they’d agreed to leave early and be on country roads before rush hour hit. Spring fever had possessed Rei to take the scenic route despite the world of green only barely peeking out from winter coats.

Scenes thus far included Rei’s apartment, the main road, Rei’s apartment (the sequel starring Rei’s prodigal suitcase), a drive through cafe (which, really, was a sight to behold), and now the backroads leading out to the wild blue (brown? vaguely yellow?) yonder.

Eishi cradled his coffee while flipping absently through the radio channels on Rei’s fancy-ass rich people dash. Par for course, the car really was more tech than vehicle. One of the buttons might’ve turned it to a submarine if he pressed it in the right sequence.

Probably.

Eventually, Rei lapsed into appreciated stretches of silence as the car jittered along. Practicing partial caution--he half expected Rei’s gangly arms to strike at any moment, swatting him away from the console in tune with Gwen Stefani’s Hollaback Girl-- Eishi turned to a station more familiar.

They’d tuned in for storytime, apparently. Rei tilted his head toward him, eyebrow raised in an unspoken question. He responded with a shrug, a similarly unspoken answer, before opting to listen to Irene’s excited recount.

“--Was the MEANEST lookin’ fella I ever saw! Like, six-foot-ten, 375 pounds of pure spite-on-earth. And he looks at us with his eyes one kind and ‘es like ‘What’rey’doin’ere?’” His coworker’s voice dropped to a gruff mumble before continuing with the same laughing lilt, “So, Red n’ I grab the stuff and book it, because if Man Mountain doesn’t want us there, we’re not stayin’--ain’t it right, Red?”

The sound effect that played was unrecognizable, somewhere between a foghorn and a bagpipe. Eishi imagined the incline of Takayama’s eyebrows, the slightest ghost of a smile. He pictured Irene’s eyes flashing with mirth as she gesticulated, oversized headphones shifting with every movement.

Rei was laughing from the driver’s seat, his hand crooked about his mouth while the other kept firmly on the wheel. Little huffs of air punctuated the subtle shake of his shoulders as fair hair curtained his face.

Eishi looked away, pocketing a comment about distracted driving. He took a sip of his coffee, totally not hiding a grin of his own. The recount resumed,

“We get to the boat, havin’ just out run the Megalodon,” she said, and he could almost see her leaning back, as if tomb raiding were normal as the changing seasons, “We’re feeling pretty good about ourselves. Exhausted, hungry, damp, but pretty good. We get set to go, strappin’ everything in, callin’ Rene t’ say we’re getting back. But the radio’s busted and the engine keeps makin’ weird noises.”

And then she paused and Eishi’s coffee hitched in his throat.

“You ever get that feeling that something’s about to go wrong?”

He forced down the liquid. Rei tightened his grip on the wheel. Irene’s voice dropped low, conspiratory.

“Red gets the boat going, but he keeps lookin’ back at the island. I’m feelin’ the same sorta vibe, like somethin’s not quite right. We agree, collectively, to get the hell outta there before ol’ Meggie gets back on our tail.”

“For a minute there, it looked like we were in the clear.”

She was silent a full beat where the air seemed to still.

And then, all at once, her voice was loud with vibrant animation, a roar in contrast to the whisper that preceded it, “but ol’ Meggie ain’t goin’ down without a fight! Allasudden there’s this THUMP--”

Rei’s car careened to the side, trampling bump bump bump over loose gravel and stones before a screeching halt. Eishi ricocheted towards the upholstered door. His coffee burped scalding liquid onto his hands and trousers. He pressed the offended digits to his mouth, blowing softly against hisses of pain.

“What the hell, Rei?” Urgency outweighed the anxious knot in his throat. Rei was pressed against the grey seat, shoulders hunched with his hands knuckled white on the black steering wheel. His eyes were trained on the rearview mirror, to the dark asphalt expanse.

Eishi risked a glance of his own, fearing the worst. He deflated, slightly, from relief when he found naught but a plastic bag making lazy trails on the backroad. When he looked back Rei was rubbing tired circles into his eyelids. He bit out a sigh and Eishi felt the relief-anger-fear combo press down in favour of a slack worry.

Rei regarded him when his shoulders relaxed and his breathing became even. Not stilled, not yet, but the tremors had mostly subsided. His mouth was screwed into a thin line, a splotch of red on his cheeks, “Sorry,” he muttered, breaking eye contact to lean back, “‘thought I hit something.”

Eishi mirrored the action, staring up through the sunroof at the overcast sky.

The remaining feelings ebbed till only worry remained and the blinking noise of the hazard lights. Words raced through his head, to his tongue, but he remained frustratingly mute. Form was not given to his essays of thought. Eventually, after much too long of silence, Eishi settled on asking, “How much sleep did you get?”

The inadequacy of the words burned on the tip of his tongue, stayed that way till Rei sighed and said “None.”

Oh.

He clicked his tongue in time with the click of the opening door. Gravel crunched underfoot along with dirt until he came to the boot. Chill winds accompanied him as he dug for the black fleece blanket, as he dropped it unceremoniously into Rei’s lap.

“You’re sleeping,” Eishi stated, gesturing to the open back seat. He rolled his eyes and shivered against the cold as Rei stared at him in silent protest. “It's not charity, you ass,” he said tiredly, caffeine cravings renewing with irritating vigor, “you're driving when we come back.”

On a regular day, the dispute would stretch till Rei whittled him to maybe a half-way point. But the silence with which Rei exited was testament enough to his current status. Eishi slipped into the driver's seat but kept equally mum.

In place of protest Rei settled instead into the passenger seat. The blanket framed him at his shoulders, draped down to cover his hiked-up feet. There wasn’t challenge in his eyes as he stared, but Eishi clicked his tongue nonetheless.

Ass.

When he’d thoroughly rested (after he’d ceased fake sleeping and had lapsed into soft snores with the chair reclined as far back as comfortable), Rei instructed him towards a “hidden road” and a “big surprise”.

Eishi noted that the last people to have seen him alive were probably the waiters and waitresses at the restaurant they’d stopped at, and that his phone had a panic function if he didn’t check in every twenty-five minutes. The pepper spray was tucked deep in the pockets of his suitcase, but if the need arose, he said, he’d be able to get it in a minute.

Rei called his bluff and told him to take a left where the road didn’t seem to follow. Hesitantly, stupidly, curiously, he obliged.

A declaration from Karasuma Eishi is as followed:

He will not tell Sagisawa Rei (Bossman, Lil’ Rei Rei, Balderdash Extraordinaire) that the expanse of rippling blue took his breath away. He will not tell him that the smell of water prickled each of his senses till they were taut and alive. He will not tell him about the picture he’d kept in the loose board underneath his bed for most of his elementary school career.

For the good of the world, for the good of his eardrums and healthy constitution. And truly, for the good of his boss, whose heart would likely explode from glee, he would shoulder the burden by himself.

The scene still commanded his attention when Rei saddled next to him with a grin thoroughly self-satisfied. “Did you get the pictures you wanted?” he asked, though his eyes remained trained on the cyan sky and the blue-green water.

Rei hummed in place of an answer with an infectious glee radiating off him in sheets. Eishi sidestepped the onslaught and returned to the car. The picture was static in his mind. The trees, the water, the gossamer clouds, and the asshole grinning like a Cheshire cat.

#birdmen #I got impatient #so the rest comes later #and then I'll post it on AO3 #mal made a thing #mal makes a thing #radioshow!au #bm #mal talks birdmen #stories

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