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nanaminokanojo · 3 years ago

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Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 7/8

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

"You always hide here when you're down," Geto said, stepping onto the rickety floors of the abandoned wooden gazebo at the far edge of the walled gardens. It was meant to be torn down but for your insistence for it to stay erect.

He took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag when you didn't answer, huddled on one of the corners of the hexagonal structure. "You really shouldn't have done that," he told you, his voice ringing crisp in the still air.

"You should really quit that dirty habit," you muttered in a form of retaliation, not really in the mood to be lectured.

"I could say the same with your games, Y/N!" he said harshly, the first time he ever would. It was more for the fact that he felt frustrated that you kissed him all for the benefit of another man as opposed to merely scolding you for whatever wrongdoing you've committed. He felt all the more frustrated that he was doing it at all.

"I'm sorry if I dragged you into this," you told him sincerely. "I shouldn't have –"

"I am not sorry," he interrupted you. "I wanted that for a while now."

"What?" You stood up and walked towards him, making him turn to face you. "What are you talking about?"

Geto placed a hand behind his neck, exhaling exaggeratedly and throwing his head back, closing his eyes momentarily before meeting your blue gaze. "I understand why Kento is taking this harder than what you're expecting." He sighed. "It probably would have been better if you kissed Yuuji instead."

You just blinked at him, perplexed. "I don't get it."

It's now or never. He wanted you to know at least before you made up your mind, but knowing you, he knew you already did. And he wasn't going to be your choice. "Look, I like you. I wanted you for myself ever since you entered university."

"Huh?"

"And three years ago, I told Kento about how I felt," he droned on. "And maybe he thinks that's still the case, that I am still his rival where you are concerned."

"So are you?" you demanded.

He shook his head, smiling as he blew smoke at the opposite direction. "I know a losing game when I see one, and honestly, I'm rooting for the two of you."

You clutched at his arm. "Suguru..."

He ruffled your hair, throwing his cigarette away and hugging you to his side. "Don't get me wrong, princess. I was hurt that I wasn't your favorite anymore. I wanted to tell you, but you beat me to it and told me you liked Kento instead."

"You'll always be my favorite," you said. "You guys don't get replaced, not to me. I love you all differently, and I have things I share with each of you that I can never have with the other."

Geto's eyes widened slightly at your words. "I'll hold you to that." He snickered then. "Seriously though, where the hell did the two of you get things so wrong? Everything just went to shit in a matter of hours. And I thought Ieiri and I were being very specific with our instructions to you."

"Ieiri?"

"She's been talking to Kento, too. You two are just too dense and slow."

You punched him on the arm, glaring at him.

"Ow!" he grumbled, rubbing at the sore spot. "I'm a model, you know. You're not supposed to mark me."

"Oh, is that what you tell all your girls?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes at you. "Kento already made it back to the house. You should apologize."

You stood on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him tight.

"You might want to refrain from doing just that, princess," he said but you just giggled and made your way back to the manor. "You're still my favorite!" you called out.

He took another stick if cigarette, chuckling at you, but as he was about to light it, he opted not to.

You've done it this time. You just knew it. You realized that when you sobered up from all the crying you did after the incident at the lake. It was too late to say you should have listened to Yuuji and regret wasn't really something you could relate to. Typically. Now, you wanted him to say, "I told you so." Him and Megumi. Throw in Nobara, too, but you knew you weren't going to forgive yourself if things didn't turn back the way they used to be where you and Nanami were involved. That was all you were hoping for if he really has been put off by the mere idea of you.

Geto was just as much of a trickster as you are, but what you did not foresee was the result and his reaction to you, and you weren’t exactly ready for the his confession. That was a first and after speaking with him, you understood. Nanami was downright outraged. He might have not gone all out on you about the matter but you knew there was something else he wasn't saying. He has always been considerate of your feelings, and you were afraid you've trampled on his. It was regardless of whether you meant it or not. You just crossed the line.

The situation wasn't good, and you knew Gojo would have killed you if he saw just how you were behaving at the lake, and you could just pray to every higher being out there that he never gets to find out or you’ll have no choice but to sit down and listen to his lecture. He may be averse to the idea of you dating any of his friends, and he may be the best brother anyone could have, but he would definitely not tolerate what you have done.

A bigger part of everything that’s been happening was your fault. You knew it, and you weren't afraid to admit it either. Although Nanami may have his faults for being so much of an over-thinker and being indecisive, he was right. Why couldn't you be a normal person for once and just be honest about how you feel? Why couldn't you just tell Nanami you loved him and you have been in love with him for the longest time? Again, you couldn't relate to the idea because you haven’t ever been able to healthily express your opinion, but enough was enough. You were going to do it tonight. It didn't matter what the result was. You wanted him in your life, and you’ll go through lengths to have him.

After tossing and turning on your bed for what seemed like hours and later wearing a path on your bedroom floor while fidgeting on the hem of your silk robe, you finally decided there was no way you were sleeping. You couldn’t if it saves you when the dread of him totally disappearing because of what you do gnawed at you from the inside.

You were worried sick of Nanami who disappeared after the incident. You called him on the phone several times but every attempt went straight to voicemail, and out of your frustrations, you found yourself retreating to that same spot where Geto found you. You were only able to rest easy when he spoke to you, telling you that Nanami already made it back to the manor.

Functioning on instinct, you got out of your room barefoot, the flaps of your robe flying behind you as you marched towards the guest room where he was staying. You even had your fist raised to knock on the door but at that very moment, you stopped. For the first time, you felt vulnerable. You didn't have a clue about what you would say to him the moment you see him. You didn't know how you would approach him or if it was already the right time to do so. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

Digging your nails into your palms, you listened for movement on the other side of the door when you heard the door to the adjoining bath open and close, followed by the quiet padding of bare feet on the carpeted floor. Your breath snagged, thinking of turning away. You decided to do just that but then, the door suddenly opened, making you squeak in surprise, the sight of him dressed in just his navy pajama bottoms causing you to ogle his muscular chest and abdomen.

Well shit, you thought. He was beyond hot.

"Er..."

"What is it, Y/N?" he asked, sounding mostly tired than mad. He didn't look happy to see you, but at least he didn't slam the door to your face. Too much of a violation to his manners, you surmised, tempted to tease him, but you opted not to. You weren't in any position to be playing your little games.

You exhaled in batches before you finally found your voice. "I... n-need to talk to you. Can I...come in?"

He just looked at you for a moment before taking a step back and opening the door wider for you. He then turned his bare back to you as he walked over to the bed, the muscles on his sides and back flexing with each movement. He then motioned for you to sit on the chair situated quite far from him before he himself sat down, waiting for you to talk.

You didn't sit down and instead stood behind the chair, gripping its back. "Look, I'm sorry."

He ran his fingers through his damp, blond locks, looking like a model for an expensive underwear brand as he did so. "Hmm. Are you now?"

Your throat grew dry, wishing you could smack yourself right there and then for thinking of other things when you were supposed to be apologizing sincerely to him. You knew that he was trying to be sardonic but you couldn't help but think how mesmerizing he sounded. Composing yourself, you nodded. "I am. Suguru and I –"

"I don't wish to hear it, Y/N."

"It didn't mean anything!" you finally snapped, breathing heavily and not realizing you've crossed halfway towards him. You stopped, catching yourself just in time. "I just..." You sighed. "I just wanted to make you jealous."

“Well, what the hell, Y/N! You’ve succeeded.” His jaw clenched as he said the words, eyes intent on you and unrelenting. “And guess what, you’ve done more than just make me feel jealous. You made me feel guilty, too, because I can’t help but think that I pushed you to do that because of what I said to you this morning. Are you happy?”

“No…” You shook your head, your breath snagging. “I was being selfish. None of it is your fault so you don’t have to feel that way. You’ve been trying to talk to me all day, and maybe I should have given you the chance, but being me, I relied on my baser instincts and made a game out of things again.”

He stood this time, towering over you. "That's all you know. Games," he told you quietly, his tone at odds to his words. "You never really cared who gets played in the end as long as you're amused." He reached over and picked up a few strands of your hair before flicking them off his fingers in disdain. "Isn't that what it is?"

His words hurt. "No..."

"Unfortunately, I got caught up in it, all the while thinking that maybe you'll spare me because..." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I lost again. Congratulations."

"I'm sorry."

"Sure." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm tired, Y/N," he said as he sat down on the bed, burying his face into his hands.

This was it, you thought to yourself. You can't miss your chance. It was regardless of the consequences. You told yourself that. You were not going to back down even if it means you get hurt. Even if it means he would reject you.

Without thinking twice, you moved closer to him, settling on your knees directly in front of him just by his feet. You reached for his hands, gently easing them away from his face. You smiled at how big they were compared to yours, his palms rough against your fingertips. He let you pull them away, slowly moving of their own accord to cup your face, his dark, intense eyes searching yours.

"Y/N, I can't do this anymore."

You chuckled even as tears glistened in your eyes. You brushed his hair away from his forehead. "You read minds now?"

"I'm serious."

"Forgive me. I couldn't help it."

"What are you –"

Before he can finish what he wanted to say, you pushed yourself up on your foot and pressed your lips against his. You felt him stiffen against you, his hand tightening over the slope of your hips as you pushed him forward. You placed your left foot on the bed just beside his thigh while your hands took possession of his face, smiling into the kiss when he finally moved and reciprocated in kind. Your toes curled in anticipation.

He pulled you down, mouths enmeshed, breaths in sync, until you were leveled to him. He raised a hand, placing it on the side of your face, making you lean against its warmth. Your eyes flew open when he pulled away and pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering there before he kissed the tip of your nose, then your cheek just beside your mouth. Nanami closed his eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours, his hand soothingly rubbing at your bare thigh.

He was breathing deeply, brows furrowed together. Unable to help it, you started planting butterfly kisses where you could reach, capturing his lips again, hand gently caressing his jawline. Nanami twisted around, laying you on the mattress and hovering over you, continuing to kiss you. His scent had stuck to the sheets engulfing your senses and rendering everything nonexistent but him. You were lost in a world filled with nothing but him and the feel of his hands roaming all over your body in slow, sensuous movements as if he was blindly mapping out your every contour and curve.

"I don't think we should be doing this," he breathed out, chuckling quietly, but in the next moment, he sought entrance to your mouth, his hot tongue finding yours, stealing your breath. You held on tight to him, thinking he was overthinking things again, easing his mind by returning his ministrations in kind, and locking him in place with your arms wrapped around his nape. You moved your leg from underneath him, brushing your thigh between his legs, making his breath hitch when you applied the slightest of pressure, feeling him becoming stiff as you rocked your thigh back and forth against him.

Nanami drew back slightly, cutting the kiss. He opened his eyes, looking at you longingly, fingers tracing your shoulder. He looked at you with uncertainty as he fiddled with the lapels of your robe. "Tell me to stop."

At that, you smirked at him, your fingers also wandering up the expanse of his hard abdomen, slowly trailing fire up his chest to his collarbones. You bit your lip between your teeth as his skin seemed to grow warmer where you were touching him, the way he was unsteadily breathing adding to your thrill, beyond glad you had that effect on him.

"I don't want you to stop, Kento." You rose a fraction on your elbow and pecked him on the tip of his nose. "I want you."

He sighed then. “Y/N, if we’re going to do this, I want you to be certain.”

“Like a hundred percent certain?” you teased. “What’s the legal jargon for that? Do you want me to say, ‘Sustained,’ or ‘No objections, your honor’?” You giggled and he joined in, shaking his head. “Way to kill the mood though.”

“Sorry.” He flashed you a rueful smile.

Reaching out, you cupped the side of his face, eyeing him with as much conviction and certainty as you could. “You should know by now that I don’t do things I don’t exactly want to do. And when I say I want this – I want you – then that’s precisely what I want.”

He nodded slowly.

“You’re still overthinking.”

“I’m just thinking of what to say to Satoru –”

“You chose the wrong time to be talking too much.” You pulled him close, crashing your lips to his in reckless abandon. It was sloppy at best, but you hoped it would convey your certitude and confidence in what you were about to engage in with him. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Kento, I could cry just having you this close to me.”

Your words seemed to have unlocked something in him as his pupils dilated and his clear eyes clouded with want, and you couldn’t have been more glad that you decided to tell him how you honestly felt. Nanami lowered his head, claiming your lips with his in a slow, gentle kiss, his lips making love to yours in a seductive rhythm that spoke volumes of what he can’t typically express with mere words. The urgency in his kisses increased and you matched his fervor with yours, slightly rising off the bed to meet him halfway, taking as much as you could as he took from you – your breath, your heart, your soul.

As if a switch flipped, his gentle movements turned careless as he grabbed your shoulder and slid the robe off you, throwing it somewhere behind him, eyes alight with excitement as he further undressed you, pulling your matching nightie down, smirking when he discovered you weren’t wearing a bra underneath.

“You planned this,” he rasped.

You grinned smugly at him. “Maybe I did.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said, attacking your neck with open-mouthed kisses while his large hands took possession of your breasts, kneading them. You gasped when he caught one of your nipples, twisting it experimentally and watching your reaction when he latched his mouth onto the other, licking around it before giving it a particularly hard suck.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, eyes blowing wide when you heard the sound of your silks being ripped off of your body followed by a soft growl as he continued to devour your tender swells of flesh. His hands reached down, covetously taking your thighs, humming against your breast at the warmth and softness of your skin underneath the rough pads of his palms. He drew one hand upwards to the flimsy lingerie you were wearing, ripping it away wildly as well, making you gasp.

“Hey, don’t –”

Any protests you had died in your throat when he reached down the apex of your legs, his fingers immediately teasing your folds and rubbing gently. “Do you feel how wet you are, my love?” he rasped. “You want me this much?” When you didn’t answer, he prompted you by putting more pressure on the sensitive nub, making you buck off of the sheets with a squeaked out, “Yes.”

Your nether lips were slick with arousal and your clit started to become engorged as he touched you there, making you whine in pleasure as you carelessly threw your arms back on the mattress. He spread your legs wider, giving himself full access to your body while you lay there with hooded eyes, watching him have his way around you, his pupils dilated as he drank in every contour of your body.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, groaning in approval when you slightly arched your neck backwards, reveling in his touch. He started rubbing your clit in circles with just enough pressure to have you gripping on the sheets while his free hand took hold of your exposed breasts, kneading the supple flesh between his fingers. Nanami delighted in the way you looked writhing under his mercy, eyes hazy and mouth partly opened as you let out pleasured sounds, wishing to know how he can make you moan and tremble even more.

Nanami withdrew his hand from your chest and traced down the expanse of your belly until he reached your pelvis, securing you in place as he inserted his long digits into your throbbing cunt, going in and out. He chuckled softly at the sight of you taking his fingers in, the lewd sounds coming from your pooling juices as you clenched around him, spurring him on. He pressed down on your clit around and around, over and over again, circling around that sensitive part of you.

“Just like that,” you mewled, your hips lifting off the mattress to grind against his hand, meeting the friction he was creating and amplifying your desire.

He smirked as he hovered over you. “You just love this, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathed out, feeling your first orgasm hitting you when he started erratically thrusting his fingers into you, the movement of his wrists quick while every thrust was accompanied by your snagged breaths.

Feeling himself getting harder and more titillated with the way your body tossed and turned beneath him, with his free hand, he shoved down his silk pajama bottoms, tossing it away along with his underwear, releasing his cock from its confines. He was, however, taken aback when you suddenly pushed yourself up, smirking at him as your eyes shifted between his dark orbs and his erection, thick, long and pulsating.

Without a warning, you pushed against him, your hands tight on his broad shoulders until his back was against the mattress. Having successfully turned tables on him, you straddled his lap and claimed his lips for your own, kissing him hard and unrelenting while your hands ran down his pecs, down to his hard abs, one of them racing faster than the other as you reached for his length, wrapping your fingers around it, its heat sending you on a wild rush.

“You’re so hot,” you droned absently, making him smile.

“You’re hotter when you’re trying to dominate me like this,” he responded, chuckling.

“Don’t I always though?” you teased, your grip on him tightening slightly while you ran your thumb over his tip, spreading his precum all over the pinkish head, making him quaver in delight. Whatever response he had in mind died right there and then when you lifted yourself up aligning yourself with him. You grabbed the base of his length, guiding him leisurely inside you, the slow pace driving you both on the edge. Your legs shook slightly as you slid down onto him, using his firm thighs to anchor yourself until you were fully sitting on him, his cock buried deep inside you.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, out of breath, feeling himself nestled in your warmth, fitting tight and snug as if you were made just for him. He sat up slightly, holding onto your hips as he slid out slowly, almost to the hilt, holding you up before very gently easing his way back inside, continuing with that slow pace, building a rhythm you both got used to. You held onto his shoulders, meeting every languid thrust halfway, establishing connection with every movement of your bodies.

“Ah…Kento…” you keen, as you both moved against each other, feeling every part of each other against yourselves, melding in a soft embrace as you rode him up and down. You both couldn’t get enough of each other, your nails digging on his back while his hands held your waist in a bruising grip. Your hips met each other in a steady rhythm, the sounds of your moans filling the room, mingling with skin slapping on skin and distinct squelching as you repeatedly swallowed his cock into your hole, making you crumple in rapture.

He reached up, placing a hand at your nape, making you lean closer to press his mouth onto yours, your tongues meeting in a duel, your whimpers drowned out by the action. He released your lips in favor of your neck, progressing downwards as he nipped on your flesh, all the way to your collarbones until he reached your breast, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, making your toes curl as his ministrations brought about sensations that hyper-stimulated every one of your senses.

You luxuriated in everything that was him, the feel of his mouth on you, his length filling you up to the brim over and over again, in and out with every push, his smell, his warmth, the excitement leaping in his eyes while he focused on pleasuring you. You were caught in the midst of your love and fondness for everything that made up Nanami Kento, voicing it out by repeatedly saying, “I love you,” or broken parts of it anyway as if a prayer of fragmented pleas and exultation as he made you his.

He paused when he heard you say it, pulling away, his eyes wide as he gazed at you with his cloudy eyes suddenly becoming clearer while his vision focused on you. “Say that again,” he said.

“I love you,” you murmured, feeling your face grow warm at his unabashed scrutiny. Then again, “I love you,” with more conviction this time. “I’m madly in love with you, Kento.”

“You are?” he asked as if in disbelief, his mouth stretching into smile, eyes filling with joy when you nodded. And along with that, he felt himself growing even harder as if a silent affirmation to how he felt about you. “I love you, too.” He kissed you and laid you down on the bed. “So damn much.”

Nanami settled himself between your legs, placing them over his shoulders as he realigned himself with you, pushing in without preamble and pounding into you in a faster rhythm than earlier. He slid so easily inside of you as he pushed forward and pulled out again and again, the new position making your walls grip tighter around him while he fucked you deeper. He relished the way he was spreading you apart, mesmerized by the way you were connected.

“More,” you purred when you felt him hitting you right where you wanted him over and over again, making you see galaxies of stars as he rammed into you. “Right there.”

“Whatever you want, my love,” he panted, dipping himself even deeper. “You like that? You like how daddy fucks you?”

Your eyes shot open when he said that, knowing you were seeing a new facet of him you’ve never encountered before. But you were not able to dwell on that when you were prompted to respond with a rough, hard thrust, saying, “Yes, daddy. I do…so m-much,” when he pulled out all the way and shoved his dick back in, and in that same instant, you found yourself creaming around him. Your essence dripped down onto the sheets as he continued to thrust faster into you, his breath hitting your skin with the rhythm of his movements as he moaned your name, planting butterfly kisses on your neck.

“You’re so good,” he said as you clenched tighter around him. “Give me one more, baby.”

He hastened his pace even more, rising up with one of your legs hanging on his arm while his free hand reached down, playing with your clit, applying pressure and setting the tempo of his movements with his length which slid in and out of you unabatingly. Your moans were getting louder while your brain felt like it would turn to fizz as your heart pounded in your chest, holding onto the build of that familiar pooling of heat in your loins. In a sudden flurry of sensations, your body lifted clear off the bed as you came long and hard.

Nanami rode you through it, going even harder and rougher as groans started to spill out of his mouth, ending in a crescendo of your sensual cries and a dragged out moan from him as he came inside you, his white, hot seed coating your walls and overflowing out of you.

Closing your eyes, you tried to catch your breath, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you came down from your high. Everything felt detached and surreal as your mind started filling with thought after thought, dominated with nothing but the fact that he just made love to you, the idea not quite sinking in despite the panting, boneless mess that you are at that moment.

You gasped when you felt him pulling out of you before hovering over you to place a kiss on your forehead. You forced your eyes open to look at him, cracking into a crooked grin when you finally looked at him, his hands brushing away stray strands of hair from your sweat-matted forehead.

“I love you, Y/N,” he told you in hushed tones, while you were unable to do anything but nod weakly as your body succumbed to exhaustion.

He bet everything on Gojo’s wedding week. And it was all worth it.

The whole matter has not sunk in just yet, so much so that he didn’t get a wink’s sleep trying to make sense of it all, but mostly afraid that he will wake up in the morning and find that everything was just a dream. A very vivid, beyond pleasant dream. But the sun rose in the horizon, and as he lay there awake, he had his proof of everything that happened beside him, asleep and very much real, pressed against his side.

When you came to him the previous night, he was certain things between you would end. If he was being honest, he has had it with your playing. He didn’t know exactly what your aims were the previous night until you made the move. Again, if he was being honest, he was also being a coward, always the one at the end of the rope you were reaching for. He wanted to switch your positions for a change, but when he did, it felt like he was getting nowhere, just pulling the rope without anyone at the end.

He thought he had lost when you kissed Geto in front of him, didn’t know what to do with the information when you said you were doing it to make him jealous. And no matter how low you went just to get his attention or to retaliate to his lack of response to you the previous day, he couldn’t say he didn’t like that you did it, too. He didn’t like it per se, but your motivations behind it spoke volumes of how you felt. He was just too blind to see it.

You were right about certain things, one of them being the fact that he was supposed to know you and understand how you communicated. Another was the fact that it wasn’t too much for you to ask him to be selfish for his sake and yours. He had wanted to act exactly that way for a long time, and when you were giving him the chance, he walked away from it instead. And as per usual, you were the one who fought your way against him for the same aim of having him.

He sighed, shifting to his side to face your slumbering form. He felt his heart melting at the sight of you softly breathing and appearing so serene snuggled against him and wearing his shirt. He could almost laugh when you suddenly fell asleep on him right after he made love to you. He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t wake up any time soon after you closed your eyes, decided to clean you up and dress you up before settling beside you, too.

But out of everything, since the previous night, whenever he would remember you telling him you loved him, his heart just stops for a second only to resume its beating in irregular staccatos. You told him you could almost cry having him that close to you, but he was the one who felt like shedding tears about having you.

He bet his heart knowing there was a possibility that you would just toy with it and break it. In the end, he finally got everything he wanted in your person. He should have already known that in order to get to you, he has to go through everything, have his heart shattered if that’s what it would take. He wanted to peel all your protective layers, but you ended up doing that to him instead, and it was safe to say you succeeded. Still, although he felt like dying when he saw you kissing Geto, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d go through it all again if it meant he would get you in the end.

Nanami caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers, smiling when you scrunched your nose a bit, your brows furrowing slightly. Just then, your eyes opened, your ocean-blue irises devouring him in an instant in waves of emotions, the most dominant of them all being gratitude towards whatever higher power brought you to the world to exist and love him when you could have anybody else.

You broke into a sleepy grin the moment you saw him. “Good morning, daddy,” were the first words that came out of your mouth, teasing him the moment you woke up.

He felt heat suffuse his cheeks when you said that, flashing you a pained look. It hadn’t been embarrassing when he suddenly decided he had a daddy kink and wanted to hear you say it, but now that he has sobered up from the feel of you against him, he didn’t exactly want you to say it, not when you were mercilessly ragging him for it first thing in the morning. He didn’t detest it though.

Nanami diverted his gaze from you, his face turning red, but you abruptly rose slightly, grabbing both sides of his face to make him look at you.

“What are you getting all shy around me for?” you cooed. “Don’t you like it when I call you that?” You smirked. “Come to think of it, I was startled when you said that, too.”

“Are you making fun of me?” he said, pouting.

Your eyes rounded and you let go of him, even going to the extent of moving away from him.

“What?” he asked, suddenly panicked as he sat up, grabbing your arm, afraid you’ll walk away.

You clucked your tongue. “D-don’t do that…that p-pouting thing…” you spoke haltingly, unable to talk properly as you pinched the bridge of your nose, looking flustered.

“Do what?” he asked, not quite catching what you were saying.

“Don’t go acting cute so early in the morning. I’m not used to this side of you. Jesus, Kento,” you told him all in one go, your hands flailing about. “You’re messing with me.”

He arched a brow at you and started laughing heartily. You were genuinely distressed and he didn’t know what he would do with you. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know you were not immune to my charms.” He pulled you towards him, making you face him. “How are you feeling by the way?”

“I’m fine.”

“Not sore anywhere?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Fishing for compliments now?”

He shook his head slowly, not understanding what you were talking about. “I don’t think we’re on the same page.” He started fussing around you then, even lifting his shirt which you were wearing, slightly looking for telltale signs of the possibility that he could have hurt you in any way when he spotted bruises on your hips. “Oh no.”

“Why?” you asked, blinking cluelessly when you saw what he was looking at. To your surprise, he suddenly took you in his arms, his expressions indicating distress. “What’s going on?”

“I hurt you,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

It was your turn to laugh. “You obliterated me, Kento, but I’m not sorry about it.” You pulled away from him and pecked him on the lips. “You were awesome.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I should go easy on you. I don’t really like the idea of injuring you in any way.”

You narrowed your eyes on him. “You’ve set the bar on how good you can be between the sheets. If you hold back on me, I’ll throttle you. Maybe I’ll ask Satoru for help, too.”

“What –”

“You’ve been warned, Nanamin.” You leaned forward, planting your face on his chest. “Stop worrying. I don’t regret anything, and if you make love to me as well as you did last night every single day, I’ll gladly have my battle scars.”

Nanami cupped your head, rubbing soothingly, his eyes meeting yours while a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

“You love me.”

He kissed the top of your head. “I do. With all that I am.”

“Stop getting into a tizzy then.”

“Okay, Y/N.”

“Okay, Kento.”

“Are you always going to call me by my name now?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “I like it better than when you call me Nanamin.”

Your brows knit together then. “I’ve kinda gotten fond of that nickname though. But if that’s what you want, I’m down for it, too.” You grinned at him. “Kento.”

Nanami broke into a smile, but then you said, “Can I always call you 'daddy' instead?” He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “I’ll throttle you.”

You chuckled. “My mother would flip!”

“Satoru would flip.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. The two of you stayed that way for a few moments, just enjoying the comfortable silence while you listened to his heartbeat and basked in his warmth, his muscular arms wrapped around you securely. You’ve never felt safer.

You were, however, the first to break it.

“Kento?” you began.

“Yes, my love?”

“What are we now?”

“You’re all mine and I’m yours,” he stated firmly.

“So we’re official?”

He scoffed. “If last night wasn’t enough to make us official, I’d be happy to prove it further to you. You’re the woman I’ll marry. I’m not giving you a choice on that.”

You snickered. “Fine.”

“Fine?” he repeated with inflection, pushing you down on the mattress while he hovered over you. “Why do you sound as if you don’t like it?”

You burst into bubbles of laughter. “I’m not complaining…”

“But?”

“If that’s the case, I want Satoru to know first before the others. Is that okay?”

He nodded. “That’s just fair, I think.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you. When do you want us to tell him?”

You held his hand, entwining your fingers together and beaming tenderly at the way yours were engulfed by his. “Soon. Very soon.”

-end of part 7-

Aaaaand we're down to the second to the last chapter. This one's rather self-indulgent and I got carried away with the the "daddy" thing lol. Anyway, I would like to say thank you to everyone who's been reading this fic and looking forward to my updates. You guys make me happy!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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golddaggers · 4 years ago

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wRoNg

not my gif just randomly taken out of google

pairing: thor x reader

warnings: it’s nsfw, if you squint, there’s a bit of a breeding kink.

a/n: twice in the same week??? i feel so proud of myself xD but i am hopeful you will enjoy it! leave likes, reblogs or maybe some comments if you do.

word count: about 1,5k. a quick little ditty.

It was the last thing you should be doing.

Still, as your hips ground against his, you couldn’t find in yourself to think why it was so bad. You were both in need of releasing tension. What a better way to do that if not in bed? Sure, it wasn’t healthy. Most of the time you hated each other. Always bickering, with bitter remarks about battle stances. You’d say he was always relying on his hammer instead of having a proper fight technique and he’d reply you weren’t exactly playing on muscle strength when using your sorceress powers. It would go on forever if the others wouldn’t chime in saying you were being annoying.

Much to your surprise, you found him alone drinking. It’d been a rough week. You shouldn’t be so baffled he’d turn to alcohol when you were about to do the same. Sitting side by side, a few drinks on you, you realised he wasn’t so bad after all. Thor could be a nice company if he wanted to. Lighthearted jokes and pearly white smiles. Tomorrow you’d blame it on being intoxicated, but you were, doubtlessly, into him.

The invite over to your home hadn’t been awkward. Thor accepted it without even blinking twice. An arm wrapping around your shoulders as you both swayed your way out of the dimly lit club. Neither could drive, so you walked. His skin against yours was electrical. Literally. You winced in pain when the shock first hit you, hearing his hoarse voice apologise, thick in his own inebriation.

Your place wasn’t far. After a few minutes long walk, you were there, fumbling with the keys, trying to get the right one in the lock. As soon as the door clicked closed, he pressed you against it, the lips you fancied kissing on your neck, his warm tongue on your skin, sucking, marking while his hands squeezed your bare arms. It was a summer night, so you were dressed in short Levi’s shorts and an off-shoulder beige shirt.

A strangled sound slipped when he pulled in down, revealing the black strapless bra you had on. You’d be in serious trouble with your neighbours, because the way Thor kept touching you, you simply couldn’t tone it down, moans growing louder as his beard burned each little bit of skin it touched. As if you weren’t in enough trouble as it was, hooking up with a colleague. This sort of thing was forbidden, a sane bit of your brain tried to convince you. But the horny one shrugged it off.

For a few moments, you just made out. His hands pulled you up to wrap your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, within his white t-shirt, as your lips were entangled, a mess of saliva and tongues. There was nothing sweet. Or romantic. This was all about tension. And boy did you two had a lot of it. His hard-on pressed against you just right. You rolled back against him, borderlining a scream.

He hooks his fingers to the cups of your bra, pulling so your boobs spill out. The kneading is hard, you almost whimper in pain, but it sends a tingle down to your core, where you’re sure you’re a sopping mess by now. Thor’s mouth starts sucking on one of your nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. A syrupy feeling clouds your brain, and you found yourself whispering his name over and over.

Effortlessly he takes you to the bedroom, questioning in a half snarl where it was, so you point towards it, shaky. Your back falls to the soft sheets you’ve set your bed with, a loud squeal slipping from you, and again when he rips the shorts in half, showing the purple panties you were wearing. A plea for him to not do the same to your shirt falls from your lips.

There’s a mirror in front of your bed, in which you can visualise your state. Your lips are swollen, hair all frizzy and out of place. Both your shirt and bra are pooled by your waistline. The remains of your shorts fall off when you stand up, to remove them properly. Thor does the same, stripping off the white shirt and dark jeans, kicking off the sneakers as well.

You watch, holding your breath. He’s so gorgeous. Tight and muscly. He feels like he’s made out of marble. A greek god embodied. Deep blue eyes stare at you then, eating you alive, like a hunter does its prey. You swallow hard, chewing your bottom lip, quaking in anticipation. Breathing comes out in ragged pants as he walks in your direction.

His voice whispers a “c’mere.”, low, raspy. You’re putty, unsure if your legs will support you any longer, but they do. This man radiates heat, you feel warm all over, though you aren’t sure if it has to do with his body heat or your own arousal. Slick is dripping from you.

"So wet for me…" He grunts, biting down on your bottom lip, "Tell me, how do you want me?"

Your lips part. You weren't expecting that. He'd been leading all along, calling the shots. And you've allowed him to do so. The tip of his fingers brush your clit, and your forehead falls to his chest, a hand on his forearm, trying to support yourself.

It's gentle, the way he's touching you. A thumb circling your nub, the tip of his index finger on your wet entrance, teasing. Your grip on him tightens.

"I want your fingers, inside me," You manage to say, your mouth open against the tanned skin of his chest, "Please."

The index slides easily to the knuckle and you roll your eyes. He doesn't rush, going in… Then out. A soft moan slips from you. It pains you that he's going so slow, the throbbing intensifying every time his palm hits your clit and the finger inside curls, touching you ever so intimately.

"More," Again, it sounds pathetic, a needy girl, "I can take more than that. Please give me more than that."

There's no need to look at him to know he has a smug grin on his face. You've known him for too long to not know it. Nevertheless, he complies, sliding another one, not once changing the speed. Goosebumps prickled your skin, you were almost crying with how much you needed him.

He pulls out the second he realises your breathing getting irregular, your teeth biting harder on his peck. You were just on the edge. It's no surprise a groan bubbles on your throat, he chuckles, stealing a kiss from you.

In the weak light of your room, you've never seen a man so handsome. Blond hair dishevelled, pink lips plump and parted. His body, a wonder.

"Want you to cum around me." Thor whispers, hoisting you up again, back pressed to the wall. "Are you going to be good for me, sweetheart?"

His eyes are glossy with desire, underneath you, you feel his dick, hard and throbbing. The air was heavy with desire. Of course you wanted him inside you, stretching and filling you up. So you tell him, breathlessly, "Yes". Thor seems to swell with pride, he loves having that effect on you.

The room spins when he pushes inside, it's better than you thought it'd be. Your hands grasp his broad shoulders, it's a hopeful way to cope with everything that you're feeling. You could swear even your insides were twitching.

Much like his fingers, he goes in and out slowly. Grunting like an enraged animal against your neck, squeezing your ass, leaving hand prints behind for sure, bringing your hips toward his with a slap.

You mumble his name, bringing his head up for a sloppy kiss, your hands securing his cheeks, a burn feeling against your palms. No one had even come closer to making you feel this way, trembling with each snap of his, the subtle bump against your clit as he tried to sink deeper into you.

"Gonna' cum," Blinded your pleasure, you throw your head back. "So fucking hard."

"Come on, baby girl, around me, yeah?" His nose nudges your cheek, him too is getting sloppier.

It's overwhelming when it does happen. A rubber band snapping, and you scream, scratching your nails down his back. Shaking. Lucky you his grip was strong, grounding in place, otherwise you would've fallen to the group, your whole body turning to Jell-O.

"F-fuck," You stutter, feeling him still rutting, searching for his own release.

"I'll fill you up," Thor says, rough, "Fill you with my babies. Gonna' swell your belly with them."

Somewhere inside you, you know it's wrong, you can barely stand each other, but at this point you don't mind. An itching to feel him spend himself inside you, feel hot and wet, filled up with his cum. Which happens soon, you know it's cornering him when he squeezes your waistline.

Then he caves. And lets out a sound that makes you clench. Hot. That was what he was. A bloody handsome guy who had made you fall apart like it was your regular Thursday. And when he places you in bed, wrapping himself around your body, there's a sense of familiarity you can't shake it off.

Maybe tomorrow you'll regret it. Tonight, though, tonight you're gonna live like there's no tomorrow.

#thor x reader #thor x you #thor x ofc #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x you #thor odinson x ofc #smut #thor odinson smut #thor odinson x reader smut #thor x reader smut #thor x you smut #thor odinson x you smut #marvel #king of my heart

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drarryruinedme7 · 4 years ago

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kinktober, day 8. medical kink

To @rockmarina 💓 I’m sorry, this is nothing like you wanted (I don’t know why it’s so fluffy xD), but I couldn’t resist! If you dislike doctor/patient dynamic, well, you’re warned. Happy reading! thanks @malenkayacherepakha for the beta.

“Healer Malfoy?” Kutch enters Draco’s office without even knocking. Typical.

Technically, he’s Draco’s boss so he can do whatever he wants to. But still.

“Yes, boss?” They both hate it when Draco calls him that. It makes Draco say it even more.

“I have a special patient for you. Look, I wouldn’t have sent him to you, ever.” He accompanies the words with a scowl. “But it looks fairly important and—” Kutch takes a deep breath. “You’re the most qualified at the moment.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Was it really that hard to say?”

“Yes,” Kutch quickly replies. “He’ll come in with a disguise. Call me only if extremely necessary, I’m needed elsewhere. And Malfoy?”

Draco only barely resists the temptation to sneer.

“Treat him well.”

With that, Kutch exits Draco’s office and Draco can finally let out all the very elegant expletives he was thinking. Treat him well. As if, after more than ten years of service, Draco would still need such advice.

“Err, excuse me?”

Draco looks up from his desk to see a medium-height bloke, green eyes, sharp jaw. Draco vaguely registers that there’s something familiar about him.

“Hello, please come in and close the door,” Draco says, professional voice and polite smile in place. He can be kind, thank you very much.

The bloke enters Draco’s office, carefully sitting on the chair in front of him. Draco keeps smiling, hoping it will reassure him.

“Feel free to drop your glamour when you feel like it. What should I call you?”

“Er.” The bloke shifts on the chair, looks around with clipped movements. “Gods, I can’t. It’s too weird. You’re weird, too polite.”

Draco blinks. “Excuse me, you don’t want me to be polite?”

“It would surely make this look more normal.” The man sighs, scratches at the back of his neck. “Well, I guess…” He waves a hand and his glamour starts to dissipate.

Ill-mannered and a show-off. What, only because the guy can wordlessly and wandlessly control his magic—

“Potter!?” Draco blurts out before regaining control of himself.

Potter grimaces, eyes apologetic. “When they told me you were the best I almost laughed in their faces. But… I really need help, and this is the first time I—”

With a grunt, Potter breaks off, bending over at the waist, head clunking on Draco’s desk. He convulses violently, and his hands disappear into his lap, clutching at it desperately.

“What...? Potter, can you hear me?” Draco stands up to quickly reach Potter’s side, touching his shoulder lightly.

Potter’s breathing has sped up like crazy and he keeps making these small sounds… Draco feels heat rush to his cheeks. The sounds Potter’s making are all too similar to mewls, to the sounds someone should make when sprawled on a bed, getting the best fuck of their life.

“Potter?” Draco asks again, voice rough. He straightens, taking his hand off Potter’s shoulder. He can’t believe he’s letting himself be this unprofessional, never mind with Potter of all people.

“Christ,” Potter murmurs, straightening. His face is flushed, eyes dazed. He does look as if he’s just been shagged.

Damn it.

“‘m sorry,” he continues. He’s not looking at Draco and his hands still haven’t left his lap. “You can laugh at me. I… have these episodes. It’s been two months already, I’ve stopped going out, practically secluded myself in my house, because, err…”

“I’ll never laugh at one of my patients, P— Harry,” Draco says, leaning against his desk. “Can you describe to me what you feel during these episodes?”

Potter bites on his bottom lip, looking at Draco’s eyes briefly before dropping his gaze. “I— it’s… I orgasm.”

There’s a tense silence as Draco registers Potter’s words. He internally shouts, struggling to maintain composure externally. “You...” Draco takes a deep breath. “Are you telling me you have spontaneous orgasms?”

He’s never once in his medical career, come across such a case. Of course, it would happen with Potter and of course, Draco couldn’t just let go of his stupid school crush on him and had kept wanking to thoughts of him over the years.

This will make his work all so much easier. Great.

Potter sighs, then nods. Draco shakes his head. He has to treat him like any other patient.

“Alright,” he says. “Alright. Can you tell me how often you have these… episodes?”

“Per day?” He asks, furrowing his brows.

“You have them daily? Wait, you have them more than once a day?!” Draco’s sure his voice has gotten several octaves higher, and that this is the exact opposite of ‘professional’ and ‘treat him well’, but fuck. Fuck!

Potter winces.

“I’m sorry,” Draco quickly amends. “Really, I don’t... It’s just a new case for me too. Please, go on.”

Potter scrunches his nose up at him but takes a deep breath as he starts biting his lips again. “At first it was only, like, maybe a couple of times a week? Mostly at evenings or nights, that’s why I brushed them off. I thought, I don’t know… late-blooming, or something.” He scratches at his nape. “Err, but then they increased. I’d say I have them, like, six to seven—”

Potter’s hands fly to the armrests of the chair, gripping them for dear life. He shuts his eyes and his entire body goes rigid. Draco should really, really avert his eyes right now but he finds himself frozen on the spot, watching as Potter’s lips open in moans and his hips stutter as he comes. Again.

When he opens his eyes this time, they’re even more glazed, perspiration all over his face. “See,” he says with a small voice and Draco’s chest constricts. He has a patient, an embarrassed patient, who’s struggling in front of him and all Draco can do is get steadily harder. “That’s why I stopped going out or working. It’s just so random and it keeps happening without no warning, I’m…” He inhales deeply. “I’m so exhausted, all the time. All my muscles ache.”

Draco nods, clearing his throat. “I agree, you need to regain control over your life. If you feel comfortable, I’d ask you to lie on that stretcher.”

Potter hums, standing to reach the stretcher. He lies down, eyes glossed with tears.

“Look, if you need someone else or you aren’t comfortable—”

“Nothing like that,” Potter says. His voice is thick, but he smiles. “It’s just… the other Healers I saw, they laughed at me and told me I was crazy to want to get rid of such a pleasurable condition. I’m just happy you’re taking it seriously.”

Draco’s cock is aching with how hard it is but he smiles, hoping the scrubs will hide it. This is seriously messed up.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. I really want to help you. I’ll run some tests now, okay? Just tell me when it tingles, tickles or hurts.”

Draco takes out his wand. “Ready?”

When Potter nods Draco starts casting diagnostic spells of all kinds. He has to stop another three times before he can finally understand what’s happening.

By the end of it, Potter’s not the only one who’s panting. Draco’s cock is crying for release, keeps twitching and pulsing, balls tight as he watches Potter’s face scrunch up in pleasure and his mouth open in bliss.

It’s all too erotic. “Okay, Harry,” Draco says finally. Potter must have felt Draco’s arousal because he turns to look at him with wide eyes, just that little more focused at Draco’s rough voice. Draco clears his throat. “Erm. I’m 99% sure I know what’s wrong.”

Potter blinks, brings a hand to his hair, trying to adjust it. It only looks messier. Fuck, the level of testosterone in the room must be so high Draco’s not sure he’s not intoxicated.

“Right,” he says when Potter smiles. He looks entirely too hot for his own good. “It’s in your nervous system. Some nerves are damaged so that when you brush the wrong spots in your body they send the wrong message to your brain.”

The expression on Potter’s face is pure confusion. Draco sighs and tries again. “Think of it as a Quidditch game. Seekers must look for the Snitch; Keepers must guard the goalposts and so on. Your neurons have specific functions, but what happens if a Seeker suddenly stops looking for the Snitch and starts throwing Quaffles around, instead?”

Potter’s face clears. “A fucking mess.”

“Indeed,” Draco says. A smile forms on his face against his will.

“Is it curable?” Potter asks. His chest is still heaving heavily up and down.

Draco nods. “Yes, but it will take quite some time. In the meantime, I can prescribe you some potions that will help diminish your episodes.”

Potter practically jumps off the stretcher, throwing his arms around Draco’s neck. “Bloody hell, that’s amazing! Thank you, Draco, thank you!”

Draco laughs and returns the hug, remembering a tad too late he’s as hard as he could ever get.

“Er.” Potter pulls back, raising an eyebrow. “Well, maybe… someone could show me what real pleasure is again. I kinda forgot it.”

Draco’s kissing Potter before he can double-think it, whispering between kisses, “I’ll make you cry harder than you ever have.”

#drarry #drarry squad #drarry ficlet #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #drarry kinktober #drarry kinktober 2020 #doctor/patient #healer draco malfoy #patient harry potter #fluff and smut

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shibarirobot · 4 years ago

Text

Aizawa fic - CH 5 - Entrapment

18+ ONLY! SFW (for now)

Shouta Aizawa x Villian!OC/Reader(?)

CH1

CH4

Okay this chapter kinda fucked me up. I got very emo while writing this lmfaoooo, but again sooooooo sorry that I’m so inconsistent, I care about this story and I want it to actually be good before I post ((also I have the shittiest laptop on the face of the planet so I can barely use it)) more like I just dont have the patience to deal with it XD, mais oui! le chapter is done! Please enjoy! x

The chair I’m strapped to is stiff and uncomfortable at my back. I haven't been able to move for awhile and it’s driving me fucking insane. My back aches, my thighs are sore, I can literally feel my pelvic bone, not to even mention the cracked rib still throbbing and I’ve started to remember the broken nose I gave myself. It’s hard enough to keep my head on straight, I can’t really seem to focus on the questions I’m being asked, let alone my answers. I’ve been here for hours, maybe days. I have no clue. I have absolutely no fucking clue. This dumbass, Detective Aiko just comes and goes, sometimes followed by a short man with a clipboard and glasses. He just asks a few questions and leaves, I’ve lost track of how many times he’s entered and left as quickly as he comes. This time he comes in dragging another metal chair and flips it around on the other side of the table, sitting on it backwards, like he thinks he’s fucking cool or something. He’s large, I’ll give him that. His thighs swallow up the chair easily and I’m surprised he can actually sit on the thing.

I look at him with my tired eyes. We’ve been at this too long, I’m so fucking tired and I can hardly hold his eye contact. My lips are so unbearably chapped they feel like they might split open at any moment, they might have actually, I can taste iron. I’m parched. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. I’m about to crack, I can feel it. “Water.” My voice is tiny at this point, crackly from the dehydration. “I need water.” My eyes start to sag and I press forward slightly, straining against the straps on my torso, skin raw beneath them after so much of my writhing.

Detective Aiko blinks at me from across the table and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He easily taps one forward and plucks it from the box between his lips. I can tell it’s a practiced movement, he does it without thinking. His habit has become muscle memory. He shoves the pack into his pocket again and retrieves a zippo lighter. If I was more conscious I probably would have rolled my eyes, if it didn’t feel like they might fall out of my head if I did. Of course he has a zippo, ugh. It’s like he learned how to be a cop from watching cheesy cop movies. He flicks it open and closed in a split second and the cigarette is lit. He takes a deep breath, sucking down the entire thing, inhaling so deeply that his chest puffs and swells almost double. He holds that breath for a long moment, releasing it slowly. I expect the smell of burnt tobacco, but there is none. The smoke pours from his nostrils in thick swirls, but it dissipates quickly, without a single trace that it had once been there.

I can see his eyes go glassy from the nicotine high, his shrouded eyes have barely left me. He stares at me like I’m a caged panther; cunning, dangerous, volatile. All things I might have been if I could possibly think straight. “You’ll get your water after you cooperate.” He shifts in the chair slightly, flicking the used cigarette butt to the side. It falls to the ground unceremoniously and I can only imagine how often he flings those things haphazardly and how many thousands he has personally littered into our environment. I’m instantly seething again. A moment ago, I had no capacity for anything really, and now I’m filled head to toe with rage towards this stupid fucking cop. This man withholding my fucking water, my fucking life source.

The thought that he’s actually killing me passes and I pull at the cuffs around my wrists. “Fucking water.” The chains scrape across the table and I can feel the blood on my mouth, my lips have definitely cracked in multiple spots, blood pooling between my teeth. “I fucking need water!” Now I’m just shaking the chains, trying to make enough noise to get him to give in, annoy him into submission. “Water!” His eyebrow twitches, he seemingly has a very short tolerance for my behavior now, no longer amused by my sass and antics.

He quickly rises from the chair and kicks it to the side, it goes clattering against the wall and loudly falls to the ground, tipped on its side. The sudden jolt silences me and the room is tense with the lack of sound. “Who do you work for?!” He yells at me, full chested. The same question Eraser Head asked me in the alley. Where my allegiances lie. There’s another moment of silence before I bust into intense, manic laughter. They still really think I work for someone?

My throat threatens to give out on me, but I can’t control the laughter. “Me, motherfucker!” I shout back, only not as full, my voice is dying quickly, my laughter soon falling with it, replaced by a hacking cough that I’m pretty sure just shredded the dry skin inside my very dry throat. That doesn’t really seem to satisfy him though. He just grunts and picks the chair back up, setting it upright, but not sitting down in it like before. He just stands there, so tall and trying to be intimidating.

He crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs at me just once. “So we’re gonna keep playing this game, huh?” He pulls out another cigarette and huffs it down just as quickly as the first, barely even savoring the drag. His eyes close and he shrugs. “I guess you don’t want that water.” He quickly strides out of the room, leaving me alone and tortured. I can’t move, my body is giving out, I can’t speak because of my hoarse, abused throat, I can’t do anything at all, but sit here. My mind flashes back to when I felt this way before, tied to a dining chair in front of my drunk birther. My eyes start to water and I am amazed that I even have the moisture left in my body to cry. The parallels are too similar and I can feel myself reverting back, the whimpering that’s beginning in the back of my throat. A couple tears start to fall and I’m slowly slipping into that mindset when I hear the door open again.

I try my best to harden my face, trying to mask the depravity that I had just been wallowing in, refusing to make eye contact with Detective Aiko as he rounds the table again and sits in that chair. He sets something on the table and I’m surprised when I look up, to see Eraser Head sitting in that chair across from me instead. There’s a water bottle on the table and I honestly have nothing to say. I’m overwhelmed by this change of events and the tears come faster now, silently streaming down my face. I feel so vulnerable and this man that I have only prodded and teased is the one here to help me. It’s like the universe is laughing at me, it feels like a trick, but one I’m knowingly and willingly letting myself fall into. I suck in a deep breath, hoping he won’t say anything about my tears. “They haven’t cleaned you up at all, have they?” His voice is low, but he honestly sounds concerned. I lamely shake my head, unable to tell him that I’ve been sitting strapped to this chair since the moment he left. He grunts shortly then stands, slowly grabbing the water bottle and cracking the lid open.

My tears lessen as I watch him, he’s looking at me like I’m a wounded animal and deep down I can’t blame him. All I’ve done since meeting him is lash out and hurt him. In spite of all that he reaches out to me slowly, the cold water bottle in one hand, the other gingerly gripping the side of my neck and tilting my head back. I look at him hesitantly. I’m just supposed to let him pour water into my mouth? That feels too weird, and intimate, and needy, but I can’t really pour the water into my own mouth, so I part my lips for him. He gently presses the rim of the water bottle onto my bottom lip, easing the cold, fresh water onto my sandpaper tongue. His fingertips graze the skin on my neck as the pad of his thumb softly wipes away my tears. It’s so gentle and intimate that I can’t help but cry harder. I’ve never felt such a sincere caress and it’s like my heart is breaking into a million pieces, astounded by the tenderness that I haven’t allowed myself to even realize I was missing. The silent resentment falling away for a moment and letting something new replace it. Adoration? Sympathy? Genuine gratitude?

I take in this new feeling hesitantly as I try to gulp down the water as quickly as he’s pouring it into my mouth. I relish in the feeling of the cool liquid on my tongue and into the back of my throat, soothing the burning I had endured for so long. The tears continue to fall even after the water bottle is empty and I realize his hand is still gently stroking my cheek in an attempt to calm my tears. He tosses the empty water bottle aside and peers down at me. I stare back up at him, my eyes starting to puff up from the tears I had just shed, cloudy with the residual moisture on my lashes. He’s even more beautiful now than ever before, caring for me so tenderly, and I think I understand now. I love him. I must love him. The way I was drawn to him before, it all makes sense. I’ve never felt anything like this before, no one has ever given me even a sliver of a second thought, but here he is. This man I don’t even know caring for a tortured criminal that’s done nothing, but awful things. It must be love. It must be... something at least.

I realize the moment’s been too long and I turn my gaze away, squeezing my eyes shut. I can’t help but feel embarrassed. Here he is helping me, giving me the water I so desperately needed and I can’t even choke out a ‘thank you’. Should I? Would he want me to? His hand falls away and I hear him start to shuffle to the door. Dammit. I’m breathing heavy, trying to catch my breath from the way I gulped down water like a dying horse. “I’m going to get a first aid kit.” I almost don’t hear him, but my eyes snap open. He’s coming back? To help me even more? Eraser Head is… going to tend my wounds… that I got fighting… HIM. This is all so bizarre and my head spins a little, but I can’t help the trace of a grin that tugs on my lips and the slight twinge of heat in my cheek.

I hear that knock on the door again, but before it opens I mumble out a small, drained. “Thank you.” My throat is still destroyed, but it’s enough that I hope he heard me. I guess I’ll never know if he did or even cared because the door opens and closes with no acknowledgment that I had said anything. Once again, I am left by myself, in this too bright room, strapped to a metal chair. As I sit here, it’s hard not to fall back into my miserable thoughts. Self loathing and what if’s come easily. What if that really was a trick? What if he’s never coming back? What if I just imagined the whole thing? What if he’s disgusted by me and just taking pity? I internally cringe at myself. That one is probably closest to the truth. He thinks of me like a charity case, someone who can’t help themselves. He’s a hero after all, that good ole savior complex will always rear it’s big, nasty head at some point. He’s helping me to make himself feel better, not to make me feel better. I sneer at myself. I almost fell into his trap, but no. I’m better than that. I was almost that dumb cunt I used to be, trusting people, needing others help. Fuck no. I promised myself I would never be that person again. I’m better now.

But then the indignation fades and all I’m left with is the reality of the situation. I do need his help. I’m broken and bleeding, strapped to a chair in an interrogation room. I start to cry again. It’s not a heavy cry, just one that makes you realize so much in such a short period of time. I cry as I realize I do need help. I need more help now than I’ve ever needed before. I’ve probably needed help this entire time and refused to see it, refused to ask for it. Asking for help never seemed like an option, it seemed like a burden. Yet, Eraser Head isn’t even offering me help, he’s giving it. Willingly. Of his own accord.

I continue to struggle with my thoughts on the situation far longer than I would deem necessary before I admit to myself it doesn’t matter because he’s simply not coming back. It’s been too long for him to have actually been going to get a first aid kit. He’s gone forever now. Poof. Might as well stop thinking about him. I can’t though. Can’t stop thinking about his perfect face, the way he touched my neck, the tenor of his voice, the scruff on his chin, the scar under his eye, the heat of his body behind mine. It all sends a thrill through me, but more than that, just a deep sense of longing. I yearn for him. I just want him to come back to me, I don’t care if he has the first aid kit he left for or not. I just want him to be present with me because everything just hurts less when he’s here. The open wounds mean nothing when he’s here. He’s the only reason any of my pain has ever been eased. I need him. I love him.

I start to allow fresh tears to fall, but my eyes are already welded shut from the fat tears I had shed earlier, too heavy to open and crusted over with dried tears because I still can’t wipe my eyes. The new ones gently come and allow me to crack open my eyes just slightly. I’m honestly on the brink of exhaustion, but my body has miraculously found a way to push forward. I’m taking a deep breath, trying to re-center myself. Get a grip on reality. Stretch my fingers and toes, get some feeling back in my aching body, crack my neck as best as I can. It’s not much, but it helps. I’m the only one that can do anything for me now. I start trying to survey the room to a closer extent than I had before, but honestly it’s still the same, too bright, all white room. I guess I can see a vent in the top right corner, but it’s too small for me to even think about escaping from. Not to mention, I can’t see a camera, so it must be in the corner behind me, watching, recording my every move. I grumble. There’s also the two way mirror, that I assume has had at least three people on the other side of it at all times. I’m completely under thumb.

I sigh, there’s not much I can do in this situation, and this dumb collar is still canceling my quirk. I’m chained up and defenseless. Fucking great. The door scrapes open again and I startled to see Eraser Head quickly invade the room, that wild look in his eyes again. The tips of his hair are flicking back and forth angrily, but not like it was before when he was erasing my quirk, more like… he’s just worked up. He’s breathing deeply, standing up straight and crossing his arms, a full 180 from his calm, gentle demeanor he had earlier. He’s actually quite intimidating like this and I start to shrink into myself, not knowing why his mood has changed. I didn’t do anything. He looks to the door and reaches out to flick his wrist in a ‘get the fuck over here’ motion. Detective Aiko comes into the room and unlocks my cuffs, releasing my arms from the table. He seems reluctant and I’m insanely confused by this sudden turn of events. My eyes are wide and I look to Eraser Head again, confusion evident on my twisted up face. “I’m taking you to the hospital. The collar will stay on and I will cuff you down when we get there.” He says it all so blankly and I’m even more confused that I was before he answered.

Detective Aiko doesn’t look up, he just grumbles out a gruff, ‘bad fucking idea’ before moving onto the straps at my torso, allowing me to pull away from the chair just a little bit. I struggle to force my muscles to keep myself upright, wanting to slump over and crumple to the floor. He undoes the one at my lap and I barely feel it because my entire bottom half has gone numb at this point. He lowers down further and unlocks the cuffs at my ankles, fully freeing me from the chair. I’m immediately elated to be liberated once again, getting overzealous and springing from the chair. Blood rushes to my head and my numb legs remind me how bad of an idea that is because I tip forward, falling into the metal table, the wind knocked from my lungs. I let out a wheeze and feel strong hands pull me back up onto my feet from my shoulders.

Eraser Head wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush to his hip to support my weight. I can feel his hero muscles swell as he pulls me off the table, shifting so we can shuffle towards the door. I’m still dazed and weak, trying to work with his movements instead of against them, but my legs can barely hold myself up and he ends up dragging me along with him more than anything else. My head is right next to his shoulder, tucked tight to his body and I press myself closer, nuzzling my cheek onto his collarbone. He feels so good against me. I’m so woozy, I feel like I’m dreaming. This all could be a mirage, I am dehydrated as hell. But it feels so real and so good that I just submit to it immediately. I press even further, trying to get up to his neck. Trying to be closer. The moment crashes around me in an instant as cuffs fall around my wrists. Damn. It’s Detective Aiko standing behind me, cuffing my wrists together and ruining the moment I was just having with Eraser. I glare up at him and he just ignores me, squeezing the cuffs tighter, too tight. I yelp, but he just looks over to Eraser Head like, ‘Really?’. Eraser grunts and holds his hand out for the key, he still has that wild look in his eye and I realize now that it’s pointed at Detective Aiko. HE’s in the doghouse, not me. Well, I am still arrested, but it doesn’t really feel like it when Eraser Head is personally escorting me to the ER, cuffs or no cuffs. Detective Aiko drops the key into his outstretched hand with an eyeroll.

Eraser Head spins me around, so I’m facing forward. My head is still dizzy, but my legs are starting to get some feeling back and I’m able to stand on my own now, even if I am a bit wobbly. He pulls me close to him again, gripping my bicep with one hand and supporting my weight with a hand on my hip. He’s taller than I remember him being. Glancing over my shoulder, I have to look up at him. His jaw is set, clenched with the anger he’s trying to hold back, silently seething. He’s still eyeing Detective Aiko with a menacing nature, I know his quirk is eye related, but it seems he also has a natural affinity for staring anyways. I watch him tuck the key into his front pocket, then grip my arm again, his hands are so large. I gulp, now realizing my ass is basically pressed up to his hip. He’s still taller than me, it's more like his thigh, but that doesn’t change the fact that my ass is on this man. My mind goes crazy as he holds me there, having some kind of stare down with Aiko. Neither of them has moved, but after a moment the detective shifts back with a grumble. Eraser Head grunts and guides me forward, supporting me as we exit the interrogation room.

Eyes follow us as Eraser Head leads me out of the room and down the hall. The receptionist at the front desk gasps when she sees me walking (semi) free. I can tell they all know who I am. I can tell they’re all scared of me. I don't need my quirk for that. I take advantage of the tense scene before me and grin, lurching forward at the woman sitting at the desk. Eraser Head is still gripping me firmly, so I don’t make it very far before he yanks me back to his body, but I do make it far enough to scare that bitch gawking at me. She screams and drops the phone receiver in her hand, stumbling backwards. I didn’t really expect such a dramatic reaction, did she really think I was gonna rip her head off or something? I’m fucking handcuffed… and doesn’t she fucking work at the police station? She should be used to this by now, why is she so fucking scared? Dramatic bitch.

Eraser Head pushes me forward, obviously still riled up from previous events. I stumble forward a bit, but his grip on me is so firm I couldn’t fall if I wanted to. We continue walking through the waiting lobby, until we reach two large glass doors. Outside the doors, it’s day time, probably late afternoon by the look of the sunlight. I take a deep breath, ready to take a step out those doors, ready to leave this awful fucking place, full of these awful fucking people. Eraser presses the handicap button and the door swinging open, the air is warm as we step out and it’s a little joy in this shitty situation that I bask in for a moment. When we step onto the sidewalk, I look up at Eraser Head. This protective stance, the hand on my hip, if I just ignore the handcuffs it’s like we’re a couple on a stroll. I smile up at him, thinking about how sweet he looks with his hair catching the late afternoon light. It’s golden hour and it settles on him nicely, highlighting his stark features. His eyes flick down to me and an expression of genuine surprise passes his face for a split second. He looks away quickly, a blush coating his cheeks, but his face returns to its stoic default.

We continue like this for a moment until we come up on his vehicle. I’m not sure what I expected, but a small wave of sadness washes over me as he opens the rear door, shoving me into the backseat. I didn’t really think he would put me in the front with him, but this feels so… impersonal. I guess that’s what we are. Impersonal. I mean, I don’t even know his last name. I slouch into the black leather of the car and pout to myself, feeling defeated. Eraser Head buckles me into the seat, leaning over me with his whole, big body. Heat floods my stomach and suddenly I’m feeling something… else. I huff, breathing in his scent, I can still smell the bergamot on him, but the other scent on him still eludes me. It’s sweet and musky, almost earthy. He pulls away before I can breathe in again, shutting the door on me, boxing me into this car alone again. He’s in the driver’s seat about 4 seconds later, but the silence of being alone again still stands out to me. I shake my head, and try to focus on the sounds of the car as he roars the engine to life and pulls out of the parking lot.

Thank you for reading! :)

I love reading yall’s comments so please leave a note for me! (see that double entendre hehe im so smart)

but seriously, thanks for the love and the followers especially for only one fic

(also I hope u all can tell how much I fucking despise the cops for this chapter)

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

The next Cinderella AU part is here...and I am so thrilled about this part, because not only do we get a new character (who I’m quite sure you can identify from the sketch above -- only my second time drawing him ever, and I’m actually pretty happy with it!), but we’ll also get a nice serving of drama! Goodie!!

Robin Hood as a legendary figure first originated through the oral tradition, so its history is a little hard to plot out, but his first reference in writing is a ballad from the 15th century. Although our modern image of Robin Hood is that of a chaotic good heroic figure, his original incarnation was decidedly less saintly -- he was a bandit, and although he did refrain from stealing from women, he was rather violent, reckless, and hot-tempered, as well as flagrantly against both clerics and all nobility. Robin Hood’s backstory of being a disgraced nobleman who turned outlaw after losing his title and land and who remains loyal to the “good king” Richard while opposing the unlawful regent Prince John was added later, presumably to make him a bit more “approachable” to an Elizabethan audience who was more accustomed to hearing tales about nobility (just look at a lot of Shakespeare’s plays from that period -- many of them center around royalty or the upper class). Plays about or referencing Robin Hood then increased in popularity on the British Isles throughout the 16th and early 17th century, until the rise of Puritanism in the 1640′s put a halt to theatrical productions. (Bloody kill-joys.) For more information on the history of Robin Hood’s development, I strongly recommend this analysis done by Overly Sarcastic Productions (...actually, just watch everything on their channel, it’s all great XD).

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn had a lot of trouble returning to her daily routine at the palace the following morning. Getting so close to the border with Orion and hearing about how much scarier it was likely to get on the battlefield made her all the more worried for Jacob’s well-being. Even if the spell Charles Cromwell had paid for nine years ago made it so that Jacob would stay alive as long as he willed it, Carewyn dreaded the thought of what harm, physical and emotional, that Jacob might face. If she only had some idea which battalion he was a part of and where on the front he’d be, then she could always just try to send a letter his way...maybe even ask Orion to drop it off to the camp for her, since his father was an officer. But Carewyn had combed every military roster she could get her hands on, but hadn’t been able to find a single record of Jacob anywhere.

‘He must be under another name,’ Carewyn told herself.

It wouldn’t be too unreasonable that Charles wouldn’t want Jacob to advance in the ranks on the back of their family name. And really, Carewyn knew full well how displeased her grandfather would be if he found out she was trying to reach out to her brother without his approval -- he could’ve even forced Jacob to take on another name, just to try to make it that bit harder for Carewyn to contact him without his approval...

Carewyn’s friends noticed a rather abrupt shift in her mood. She was singing as always, but her choices were a bit less upbeat and her voice sounded oddly distracted and nostalgic. At one point, Andre mentioned offhandedly that he’d been designing themed outfits for his friends to wear to his mother’s New Year Eve’s Masque Ball, but Carewyn had trouble putting much attention on it.

“I’ve already finished some ‘owl wings’ on a cape for KC and a fur-trimmed wolf mask and gown for Erika...I was thinking perhaps a stag for Bill, a dragon for Charlie, and a lioness for Ginny? I considered a horse at first, but I think a pale gold would make her just glow, don’t you think? Yours I’m most excited for, though...I’m hoping to actually make your newest pair of shoes with fabric on the inside for comfort and diamond on the outside for sturdiness, if I can manage it!”

“Mm...that sounds great,” said Carewyn absently.

Her gaze was drawn out the nearest window, as far out as she could.

“...Andre,” she said slowly, “I realize this is very last minute, but...may I have this afternoon off, to go see my family?”

Andre blinked. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh no, no,” Carewyn lied with as pretty and reassuring of a smile as she could. “It’s just...well, it’s nearly Tristan’s birthday. My uncle keeps him very close to home, compared to my other cousins...I merely thought I might stop by and bake him a little something, as a surprise.”

Andre frowned slightly. “You...get along better with your uncle and his son than with Iris, then?”

“No, but Tristan is only a boy. It’s hard to hold any bad behavior against him. And well, maybe if he and the others don’t know I made it, he’ll enjoy it better.”

Carewyn could see Andre still looked confused and a little dismayed, so she quickly added, “I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, in time for my rounds. I won’t allow it to interrupt my duties.”

Andre offered a hesitant smile. “Well, all right...if it really means that much to you.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Andre -- I really appreciate it.”

Fortunately for Carewyn, Andre wasn’t the best at picking up on other people’s pretenses. Unfortunately for Carewyn, two of his most regular confidantes were his cousin KC and fencing instructor Erika, and they did pick up on Carewyn’s odd behavior.

“She said she wanted to surprise her cousin with something for his birthday?” asked KC, frowning deeply.

“Well, yeah,” said Andre. “I admit, it seemed a little weird to do something so nice without even wanting credit, but Carewyn is an awfully selfless sort. From the way she made it sound, she just wanted to do something nice for him.”

“And you believed her?” said Erika rather coldly.

She whacked Andre’s practice sword out of his hand with her own, making the Crown Prince hiss in pain.

“I’ve told you before, Prince Henri -- you all may think Carewyn Cromwell’s nothing like her family, but that’s absolute bunk. She might be more pleasant than them, but she’s not stupid and she’s not honest. Or did you not notice that that weird guy she hangs out with keeps calling her ‘his lady,’ as if she weren’t the penniless orphan of a deadbeat merchant?”

Erika picked up Andre’s sword and tossed it back to him with ease.

“Then of course that guy himself is shady as all get out.”

Andre frowned. “You mean Orion? Come on, Erika, he isn’t that bad -- I thought he seemed quite amiable, myself. Don’t you agree, KC?”

“He is,” said KC fairly. “But Erika isn’t completely off-base. There is a lot about Orion that we don’t know -- that even Carewyn herself doesn’t know. She admitted as much to me, after I first met him. That being said,” she raised her own sword and got into position to attack Andre, “I don’t think Orion’s a threat. You would think anyone with the ability to sneak over the palace walls not once but twice would’ve tried to make some move to attack you by now, but he’s only ever come looking for Carewyn. And although I don’t completely understand the reason behind why she’s acting like a lady around him,” she shot Erika a faintly reproachful look as she and Andre traded blows, “I’m pretty sure it has more to do with her own insecurities than because she’s a terrible person -- ow! Damn it!”

Andre had successfully disarmed KC.

“Insecurities?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What is there for her to be insecure about? I mean, yes, she has no dowry, and taking Orion’s wardrobe into account, I’d suppose he has to come from a family with modest wealth -- but Orion seemed to enjoy the Weasleys’ company quite well, and their family is poor. I think they’d make a lovely match, really,” he added with a rather smug grin. “They even matched at the Festival, without realizing it.”

KC massaged her wrist, frowning a bit sourly. “Yes...but Carewyn is solely under Lord Cromwell’s charge. He’s the one who sent her here. He’s the only guardian she really has. And I think it’s quite clear how much influence he has over his family -- even his daughters who married into other esteemed families still live at his estate with their husbands and children, rather than moving out onto their own estates. And in Carewyn’s case, she doesn’t even have a parent to help shield her from Lord Cromwell’s will. She doesn’t have a penny to her name. So that means, in effect, she’s chained to him, and in those circumstances...well...”

She hesitated.

"Well what?” Andre prompted her.

KC looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“I didn’t want to say anything before without knowing for sure...but I think someone’s been looking at our military ledgers, documenting troop placements. Everything’s neatly put away the way they should be, but there are more fingerprints on them than before. And usually I’m the only one who has much use to look those up, whenever I’m ready to suggest a new war strategy...”

Erika’s eyes narrowed very sharply and she got right up into KC’s space. “And you’re only just saying this now?! That information could be critical to Royaume’s enemies! What if that guy Orion sneaked in not just to see Cromwell, but to get his hands on those? Or what if it was Cromwell herself, working in collusion with him?”

“Impossible,” Andre said forcefully. “Carewyn would never be a spy for the enemy -- it’s not in her character.”

“And I don’t think Orion would know where those documents would be, even if he did sneak in,” said KC.

Erika, however, looked unconvinced as she made for the door. “You can coddle those two all you want, but I plan to tell the King and Queen -- they’ll want to interrogate Cromwell and this ‘Orion Freeman’...”

“Erika, belay that!” Andre said in a suddenly much sharper and more authoritative voice. “That’s an order.”

Once Erika had stopped walking and turned back around, the Crown Prince exhaled heavily and crossed his arms in a business-like manner.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said firmly. “If Carewyn is heading to the Cromwell estate, she’ll have to take the road through town, correct? I’ll simply take a horse and follow the road after her.”

Erika and KC looked startled.

“Uh, Andre,” said KC, “you haven’t forgotten that you’re not allowed to leave the palace, have you?”

Andre smirked. “No. I’m just sneaking out.”

Before Erika and KC could articulate an argument, he added in a much sassier voice, “Look, I’m doing it whether you come with me or not. I’d appreciate the company if you want to come along -- all I expect is that you’ll dress appropriately. I hear linens and cottons are fashionable for those who don’t wish to attract attention.”

And so Andre, KC, and Erika made preparations to follow Carewyn...completely unaware that a half-hour earlier, Bill and Charlie Weasley had -- after having a similar, but much more concerned conversation with Badeea Ali about Carewyn clearly lying to Andre’s face -- decided to take their horses and tail their friend themselves. And sure enough, the two eldest Weasleys soon enough found themselves following Carewyn on the road heading northeast, avoiding the Cromwell estate all together.

At the very same time, in Florence, Orion had finalized his plan. Today was the day he was going to request a formal audience with Prince Henri, as Prince Cosimo VII. As Carewyn had said, he’d need to act fast if he was going to stop his father from finding a way to complete his own ruthless strategy -- the battlefield itself would be a difficult place for Orion to make his case, with so many distractions, but he knew a more balanced, peaceful setting wouldn’t be. And so he wrote a long letter to the King, explaining everything that he had learned from Royaume and its people as well as Florence’s own, so as to make a case for peace. He then had the court magician Severus Snape deliver it to the Florentine camp in his stead, while he dressed in his finest and prepared to leave for Royaume.

When he made as if to take his own horse, however, Orion found Skye and McNully waiting for him, a black coach already prepared.

“If you’re planning on going to meet Prince Henri, you really should arrive in style,” said McNully with a wry smile. “A good first impression to the King and Queen would help your case by a good 45%.”

“And you have to know there’s no way in Hell we’re going to let you go out and expose your true identity to the enemy without back-up,” Skye added, her arms crossed over her chest. “

Orion’s black eyes softened. “...Thank you.”

As he climbed into the carriage, both McNully and Skye’s faces nonetheless betrayed some hesitation.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” McNully asked. “There’s a 74% chance they’ll respond badly to it -- I reckon there’s a 39.5% chance they’ll try to arrest you on the spot and hold you as a prisoner of war...”

“I carry no weapons with me, and I come with the explicit purpose of diplomacy,” said Orion levelly. “Therefore I’m not an enemy combatant. As long as I follow their direction while under their roof, then any harm they might do me would be violating the conventions of war...and the Royaumanians, for all of their flaws, do have honor.”

“One could make a case for you having been involved in espionage, though,” McNully pointed out, but Orion ignored him and settled down in the carriage, crossing his legs offhandedly.

“What about Lady Cromwell?” said Skye, her voice a bit lower and more concerned. “She’ll find out you’re a Florentine. And not just any Florentine, the Prince of Florence.”

Something sad flickered through Orion’s confident, unflappable expression.

“She was going to learn the truth sooner or later,” he murmured. “If our time together has come to an end...then at least I may have the memories to hold onto...and the knowledge that by ending this War peacefully, I may have spared her of more heartache.”

He closed his eyes and began to meditate, clearly having said his piece on the matter. Skye and McNully, however, couldn’t help but exchange a look that was both anxious and very sad.

As long as they’d known Orion, he’d always been a little reckless, but he was also passive and avoided direct confrontation. This plan to directly appeal to Royaume’s royal family, however, required a lot of guts -- far more than either of them had thought Orion possessed. And they knew such courage could only have been encouraged by one person...the very same person who Orion loved so much that he would choose to follow her example and protect what she loved, even if it meant destroying their relationship forever.

Orion meditated during most of the journey to the Royaumanian palace. It was merely fortunate that, as they approached, McNully broke him out of his trance by tapping him on the shoulder and pointing out the window. If he hadn’t, then Orion would not have seen a rather familiar trio of riders on horseback, riding through town past them -- a short, stocky lady with dark red hair and freckles; a very tall blonde with a square jaw and sharp eyes; and a very handsome dark-skinned man dressed in a purple tunic, emerald green pants, and gold-buckled black boots.

“Stop the carriage!” said Orion, his soft, level voice nonetheless very firm despite not rising in volume.

He barely waited for the carriage to completely stop before slamming the door open and jumping out.

“Andre! KC!”

Andre, KC, and Erika all stopped their horses in an abrupt halt and turned around as Orion dashed up to them.

“Orion?” said Andre, startled.

KC looked from the rather finely dressed Orion to the expensive-looking black coach behind him and back. Erika’s eyes narrowed critically upon Orion as he came to a stop in front of them, his hands clasping in front of him.

“I...had not expected to see you out and about,” said Orion, trying to put on his most pleasant, calm expression.

Andre glanced over his shoulder up the road, frowning deeply. “Yes, well...some business has come up.”

“Orion, have you seen Carewyn?” KC asked him, her face very serious.

Orion blinked.

“Not since last night,” he said. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Never you mind,” barked Erika, as she turned back to the road. “Come on, we don’t want to lose the trail -- ”

“Erika,” reproached Andre, before he turned back to Orion, his face visibly concerned. “...Carewyn asked for the afternoon off to go see her family, but it was very last minute, which isn’t like her. And according to what we’ve heard in town, there’s been no traffic down the road toward the Cromwell estate in the last four hours...”

“So Carewyn had to have been lying about where she was going,” finished KC, her face much more stoic but her voice no less tense. “We need to find her and figure out why.”

Orion’s eyebrows had furrowed over his widening black eyes. His heartbeat was slamming in his ears as the memory of Carewyn in the woods returned to him -- looking northward, toward the army camps, as if longing to run toward them --

“I know where she’s gone,” he said at once.

He rushed back to the coach, grabbing onto the window frame and standing on the boot of the carriage.

“To the northern border,” he urged Skye, who sat in the driver’s seat. “Quickly!”

“The border?” repeated Skye as a sharp whisper. “But Orion, your meeting with the Prince -- ”

“Can come later,” Orion told her very firmly under his breath. “Both he and I must get to the war front.”

He shot a significant look over his shoulder in Andre’s direction. McNully, putting two-and-two together, nodded and inched himself up to the window of the carriage.

“If you tie one or more of your horses to the carriage, we should decrease our travel time by a good 21% per horse,” he told Erika, KC, and Andre. “If Carewyn left an hour ago, then with one horse, we should be able to overtake her within an half-hour -- two, within twenty minutes, and three, within ten. Though with Orion on the boot, there’s a 12% chance he’ll fall off if we ride at full speed, so we might have to go at 95% instead -- ”

KC fixed the blond-haired man with an incredulous look as she leapt off her horse.

“Are you really calculating all that on the fly,” she asked, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or amused, “or are you just pulling those numbers out of fat air?”

McNully couldn’t help but grin. “Excellent! Now I can officially say that I’ve been asked that question over a hundred times before.”

Still looking faintly bewildered, KC moved to help Andre, who’d quickly started attaching his, Erika’s, and her horse’s to the front of the carriage with the two black ones already pulling it, ignoring Erika’s incredibly sour and distrustful expression. There was no time to lose.

From the boot of the carriage, Orion directed Skye down the same road he’d taken with Carewyn the previous night, Andre, Erika, and KC riding with McNully inside the coach. Once they’d reached the forest, Orion caught sight of a familiar-looking golden eagle with a bandaged wing -- at the sight of the Florentine prince, the eagle gave a loud shriek and flew down into the trees, and Orion urged Skye to pursue him into the woods. The road took them deep into the trees, until at last the eagle landed on a branch over the heads of two familiar-looking ginger-haired men, who were bound with thick rope to a tree.

Bill and Charlie were stunned at the sight of such an elegant coach, but were absolutely beside themselves with relief at the sight of Andre, KC, and Erika. Erika immediately yanked a knife out of her ankle boot and set about sawing off their bindings -- once she’d cut Charlie free, he immediately rushed forward and grabbed Andre’s shoulders.

“We’ve got to hurry!” he said anxiously. “They’ve got Carey!”

“‘They?’” said Andre, very startled. “They who?”

“This band of Florentine bandits,” said Bill, his voice very low and urgent. He kept maneuvering his bindings as Erika cut them to try to sever them faster. “They cornered us so they could try to rob us -- they were willing to let Carey go since she was a lady, but she bartered with the leader, saying that they could take her so long as they left us alone. Claimed that they could probably get more money from holding her hostage than us, given her family...”

Both Skye and McNully glanced at Orion. The Prince’s face had lost most of its color -- he’d turned his face away and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly as he tried to stabilize his emotions.

“The bandits in these woods are Florentines, so I doubt they will harm you,” Baroness McGonagall’s words returned to his mind, “but I cannot be sure how they would respond to a Royaumanian, especially one related to one of their wealthiest noblemen.”

“They took all three of our horses and tied us to the tree so that we wouldn’t follow them,” growled Charlie. “They left us a knife so that we’d be able to cut ourselves free, but it’s so dull I reckon it would’ve taken us hours to do it ourselves...”

Bill succeeded in snapping the weakened ropes in half and leapt back to his feet, massaging his wrists.

“They must have taken her to a camp of theirs,” said KC, her dark blue eyes narrowing. “Even bandits need some base of operation.”

McNully nodded, resting his arms on the edge of the coach’s window. “The lady is right. Given where we are, I’d say the odds are fairer that it’s southeast of here.”

“Closer to the Florentine side of the border, you mean,” presumed KC, and McNully nodded again.

“They were heading south through the woods,” said Bill. “But we won’t want to bring the coach. They stopped us because they wanted money -- if they have any reason to think any of you have it, they’ll no doubt want to imprison you too...”

“On the contrary,” said Orion in a very low voice, “this carriage may be just the thing we need, to ensure that they don’t imprison us.”

Everyone looked at Orion, their faces all a mixture of incredulity and revulsion, but he seemed disinterested in explaining himself.

“We must be quick, McNully,” said Orion, and although his voice and face were as level and unreadable as ever, they both betrayed a slight edge. “Time is not on our side.”

With Bill now sitting with the driver’s seat next to Skye and Charlie hanging off the boot with Orion, the black coach set off again. Overhead Orion caught sight of the wounded eagle again, which shrieked at them warningly -- the Prince thought it must mean they were close, but did not respond fast enough to the trap set out in front of them.

The coach rode right through a certain cluster of vines, and within seconds, they had magically sprung to life, lashing themselves around the limbs of the five horses pulling the coach. The steeds reared back, panicked -- Skye immediately yanked out a sword from her belt and began hacking away at them, and Erika and Andre both leapt from the carriage with their own swords to help, but it was no use. The vines only lashed onto them, binding all three of them fast and making it impossible for them to move. And when things seemed like they couldn’t be any worse, without warning, a group of green-dressed men and women had swung down from more vines attached to the nearby trees, surrounding them in a tight noose-like circle and pointing their arrow-decked bows at them.

They were trapped.

“Well, well,” said a voice from the trees above, “we don’t often see coaches that ritzy out here.”

The voice’s owner leapt down to the ground. Unlike his companions, his hooded tunic was yellow instead of green. When he lifted his head enough that they could see his face, it was the host of a mischievous smirk.

“Especially ones crafted in Florence,” the dark-haired and eyed bandit said breezily.

Andre, KC, Erika, and the Weasleys all stiffened.

“Florence?” breathed Bill.

They all as a unit whirled on Orion. His face was remarkably calm and solemn as he stepped off the coach and in front of the others and faced the bandits’ leader, his hands clasped in front of him.

“We do not come seeking trouble,” he said. “We merely come to retrieve a lady who surrendered herself to you. Frame like a robin’s. Hair the color of a red sunset. Eyes the color of the sky.”

The bandit’s leader raised his eyebrows curiously. “The maid called Cromwell?”

“That is her.”

“And what reason would you desire her in your custody?” challenged one of the green-dressed bandits with a cocked eyebrow, a dashing man with tanned skin and dark brown hair.

“Wants to ransom her off himself, no doubt,” sneered another woman with messy brown hair and cold magenta eyes. “He probably works for Lord Malfoy -- we all know he’s the sort to make money off illicit enterprises and keep it all to himself, rather than give it to anyone who actually needs it...”

Two of the other bandits -- a pair of women with long red and short pink hair, respectively -- exchanged a sour look.

“We have nothing to do with Lord Malfoy,” spat Skye, vainly tugging against the vines binding her. “We wouldn’t collaborate with that rat if you paid us -- !”

“Skye,” said Orion in a quelling voice.

The last bandit, a very strong-looking man with dark red hair and emerald green eyes, frowned deeply at the leader, who considered Orion carefully.

“I know your face,” he murmured.

Orion inclined his head, his black eyes boring into the other man’s face. “I’m sure you do.”

The leader’s thin-lidded eyes narrowed critically -- then they widened, realizing.

“Bring out Lady Cromwell at once,” he said abruptly.

The others all whirled on him.

“What?!” cried all three women and the dashing man.

“Jae, are you mad?!” said the woman with the magenta eyes.

“Do it,” said the leader called Jae firmly, without flinching.

The strong bandit -- the only one who hadn’t questioned the leader’s direction -- grabbed a vine, which immediately retracted back up above them.

Jae glanced at the magenta-eyed woman. “Merula, have the vines set them loose.”

Merula looked rather scandalized. “What? Oh come on, you know how much of a pain it is, to have to recast a spell after it’s broken -- ”

“Better that we do it now than wait around for the spell to expire on its own,” Jae said dryly.

Still looking very reluctant, Merula nonetheless did as she was told, holding up her hand, which glowed with light green.

“The terms are now invalid,” she muttered sourly at the plants.

The plants sparkled with a similar green flare before falling limply off of the horses, Andre, Erika, and Skye. KC and Bill moved to detangle the now harmless plants from their companions and around the horses’ legs, and Charlie moved to soothe the frightened steeds.

Within a minute, the strong bandit was back, holding onto the vine easily with one hand and holding Carewyn under his opposite arm. She had her ginger hair tied back in a loose bun and was dressed in the green peasant dress she’d worn to the Festival and her slightly oversized brown shoes -- no doubt because it was the most comfortable dress for travel she had. Orion was also beyond relieved to see that she was perfectly unharmed -- not a single cut or bruise.

“CAREWYN!” cried KC, Andre, Bill and Charlie in relief.

All three of the men immediately dashed right over to her and threw their arms around her in a group hug.

“It’s all right,” Carewyn reassured them with a small smile. “I’m all right.”

“They didn’t hurt you?” Bill interrogated her.

“You must have been terrified -- ” said Andre.

“Where are the horses?” asked Charlie.

“Tied up in a makeshift stable over there,” said the pink-haired bandit with a wry grin and a vague hand gesture.

“A bit tricky to lug them up into treehouses,” added the red-haired one cheekily. “And no, for the record, we did not hurt Carewyn Cromwell. She may be a stick in the mud, but she’s a decent sort.”

“And brave too!” said the muscled man, beaming. “She wasn’t scared at all, not even when Merula stuck a knife in her face!”

“I was only getting fed up with her smart remarks,” huffed the magenta-eyed bandit called Merula. “You’d think she was the Queen of Sheba, with how she acts...”

“She is a proper lady, to be sure,” said the dashing bandit, shooting Carewyn a rather Casanova-like smile.

Carewyn tried to stifle a snort of laughter behind her hand as Jae approached her.

“Seems you’ll have an escort after all, Carewyn,” he said, lowering his bow with a slightly more serious look. “I don’t think I can convince you to reconsider, but under the circumstances...well, just make sure you’re careful. I’d hate to hear of Royaume losing one of its only honorable citizens due to their own stupidity.”

Carewyn inclined her head to him, her blue eyes very solemn. “I’m far from Royaume’s most honorable citizen, Jae, nor from any other country, I daresay. But thank you.”

Jae nodded. He then looked up at Orion.

“By your leave then, your Highness,” he said with an abbreviated bow.

He then nodded to the other bandits, and one by one, they all disappeared back up into the trees.

None of the people on the ground, however, gave them much mind. All of them had turned back around to face Orion -- Carewyn felt like her heart had stopped still as she stared, taking in his neat ponytail and finely tailored black doublet and hose and boots.

“...‘Your Highness?’ ” repeated Charlie, shocked.

Andre’s eyes widened. “Then...then you’re...?”

Orion swallowed, but somehow managed to keep his composure as he nodded. His eyes were locked on Carewyn’s face, never shifting and as turbulent as a black ocean.

“King Cosimo’s new heir,” KC breathed, her face flooding with fresh understanding around her amazement. “Cosimo VII.”

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tellatennie · 4 years ago

Text

Denki Kaminari x Female!Reader

Warnings: Rough kissing??

I wrote this a while ago xD And someone requested to be put in it then so thats who Lizzie is because FAN SERVICE

Stupid party. I hate this

I sighed as I stood in my friends room, glaring at my reflection in the mirror. She was having a huge party downstairs and had forced me into a dress that she bought me.

”I look. Just....why?” She popped her head in through the doorway. “Oh my GOD YOU LOOK SO CUTEEEE” She squealed and ran into the room and circled me and hugged me. I stepped back and looked at her.

”Oh my gosh Lizzy you look so nice!” she gushed at me “Thanks (Y/N)! You think Katsuki will like it?” I nodded and she squealed.

She look my bun out and started to curl my hair, being careful to not burn me.

“Yknow, Denki will love that dress on you.” She smirked at my flushing face. It was pretty obvious to everyone that I had a crush on him, and they would tell me he liked me back but I never believed them.

“Sh-Shut up.” She giggles and when she finished my hair and took a step back and smiled at me. Someone cleared their throat from the door way and she let out a small shriek. We turned around to see Katsuki standing at the door. When he saw her he straightened up and flushed slightly.

“Y-You look nice” She laughed and walked near him. “Did my Katsuki just stutter?” He grumbled and walked away, mumbling something into her ear. She giggled and pranced back to me and picked up a rose from her desk and placed it in my hair. She grabbed my shoulders and looked at me.

“Listen to me (Y/N). Tonight is the night you are going to be the most vibrant girl in the room. Denki is going to see you and explode at your sexiness” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Should I be worried that your calling me sexy?” She pinched my cheek before smacking it slightly and walked to the door, glancing over her shoulder “Come down when your ready” **** (Denki Pov)

I sighed, getting myself more of the fruit punch Lizzy had most likely spiked with vodka. I looked around the enormous living room, my eyes scanning for a certain brown haired girl. I saw Lizzy walk down the her I sped walked to her, tossing my arm around her shoulder. "Heyy Lizzy" She raised an eyebrow at me and smiled "Hi Denki, do you need something?" My face started to heat up slightly "umm well I was wondering if anyone else is coming to the party or if everyone is here already?" "Oh you mean (Y-" "OH HEY (Y/N)" I jumped at the shout from Kirishima and looked up the staircase in front of me and saw the beauty I had fallen for walking down the stairs with a flushed face. All eyes were on her, but she was looking right at me. My face felt hot I knew it was red. I start to walk to the bottom of Lizzies' seemingly endless staircase to join (Y/N), but as i approach it, and were still maintaining eye-contact, Ochaco, Mina, and Kirishima rush past me and speak to her and pull her away from me in the opposite direction (sad elec boi). I watch the back of their heads leaving the room into the kitchen when i feel someone nudge me.

"Buck up buddy, they don't realize how much you love her" Lizzie says to me, a big grin on her face. "L-love? I d-don't loVE her" I sputter out, she obviously doesn't believe my pathetic lie. "Oh yeah, and you don't stay up until 4 in the morning playing pokemon on your ds. Don't worry though, ill set up some games so you'll be able tooooo..... talk to her?" Well that doesn't sound suspicious at all. Lizzie smiles and me and backs up slowly, disappearing into the crowd of people. I try looking for her to figure out what 'games' shes going to set up, but i cant find her, until she appears on a stage with a microphone.

"HellOOO my welcome guests! Tonight has been amazing so far, and i have all of you to thank! For any of you who want to partake in some generic smexy party games, follow me into the basement lounge, if you prefer to stay up here in the main area feel free to!" oh noooo nonono Lizzie makes her way off the stage and motions for people to follow her. She looks at me and motions for me especially.

We all make our way down to her GIANT lounge and everyone gathers in a circle, I see most of class 1-A and a few students from 2-B. I see (Y/N) from across the circle, shes in deep conversation with Monoma, laughing and making jokes with him. I feel a pang of jealously in my chest and I look away from them and take a seat on a couch. Resting my chin on my palm, watching the group around me.

(Your Pov)

"OK everyone take a seat in a circle and we'll get started!" Lizzie said aloud. I skim the room and notice Denki looking a little grumpy, I go to talk to him put I'm pulled into a seat by Mina. "Don't worry (Y/N), you'll get to socialize with your boy-toy during the games" I flushed "H-hes not my b-boy-toy" she gives me a look and is about to say something when she gets cut off by Lizzie. "Okie dokie then i think we're ready to play some games, how about we start off with spin the bottle?" This question got a lot of good responses from the lounge dwellers so Lizzie pulled out an empty bottle and set it down on the ground in the middle of the circle. "Who's up first?" She was met with silence "Alright..... guess ill go then" She was met with many protests and people offering to go first. See, Lizzie isn't able to play these kind of games because if Katsuki ever found out, everyone participating would be dead in seconds, so no one wants her to do anything other then watch and help move it along.

"That's what i thought, well then i get to pick who goes first......Izuku! You spin first!" Izukus face flushed a bit as he reached forward and spun the bottle, every ones eyes were on the bottle as it slowed down and stopped on Shoto. Poor Izuku was a stuttering mess as people around them giggled like crazy, everyone knew about the crushes each of them had on one another and it was adorable to watch the timid izuku lean over and peck the maroon faced shoto on the lips. Everyone giggled even more as izuku returned to his seat and hid his face in his polo shirt. "Cuteee. Alright, i vote (Y/N) next!" Lizzie said with the dorkiest smile on her face. I gulped slightly and glanced at Denki out of the corner of my eyes, he looks like hes on edge, he definitely straightened his back. I reached over to the bottle and spun it, i want it to land on Denki, i really do. It slows to a stop.

Monoma. Dang. Monoma is probably one of my best friends, i don't really want to kiss him. "Do i have to kiss him on the lips?" I ask, "No you don't, but this is the only veto for anyone" I lean over to Monoma and kiss him on the cheek. "Good, i don't want to kiss her, shes a good best friend but not my sophisticated type." Monoma chuckles out. Everyone lets out those nose breath laughs and moves on.

After a few rounds of this game people start getting a bit bored, so Lizzie announces "Well i guess we only have enough time for one more game, its getting late. So lets play a spicy game, 7 minutes in heaven!" Some people groan, and some people squeal. Its very obvious who likes this game and who doesn't.

Lizzie has everyone drop some sort of item of theirs into a hat and Lizzie has people draw something at random. Some pairs go into a closet and come out exactly the same, other go in and come out with obvious ruffled hair and lipstick smears. Lizzie gets to me and reaches the hat out to me "No peaking (Y/N)" I reach in and run my hand around, i feel something seemingly rectangular and flat, connected to what i think is a lanyard. I pull it out and quickly look at the item. eff

The lanyard is yellow and covered with small pikachus in different poses, i look at the UA i.d card connected to it and i see what i both wanted to see, and dreaded to see. I see the dorky smile of Denki Kaminari. Lizzie snatches the lanyard out of my hand and peers at it, with the most ecstatic look on her face. (Y/N) and Denki! You're up!" I'm shoved into the medium sized closet with Denki, i back into a corner, and i cant see anything. "Seven minutes starting nowwww!" i hear Lizzie shout from a room over.

"Lizzie? Where are you? I cant see anything" Denki says, i hear a small thud and i hear what was most likely something hitting him on the head. "I'm here Denki" I reach my hands out to feel for him "Are you okay you ditz? That sounded like it hurt" I feel my hands touch something moving (him obviously) "Yeah I'm fine" I feel his hands over mine and he travels them up my arms and onto my face, cupping my cheeks. "D-denki? What're you d-doing"

"I'm glad you pulled my lanyard out of that hat, the truth is (Y/N)... I really like you, more than a friend. D-do you think you would like the be with m-me?" My heart melts, 'this sweet little bean' I reach my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me "W-wha-" i cut him off my kissing him, something I've wanted to do almost since i met him.

(Denki Pov)

Shes- Kissing me!?! Her lips are warm and soft, i kiss her back, and inwardly cringed at how it was a little rougher then i wanted it to seem, but she starts kissing me harder too so imma roll with it.

[BEWARE, EXTREMELY CRINGE AND BAD WRITING AHEAD SJKJNBLSTHBSILRUTNG]

(Your Pov)

He pushes me into the wall of the closest, my hands are in his hair, tugging him into the rough kiss more, One of his hands roam down to my ass and he gropes it slightly, causing me to gasp, which he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. As we battle for dominance he taps my thighs with his hand basically telling me to jump. I wrap my legs around his waist as he keeps me pinned in the wall with his body. He slips his tongue out of my mouth and he makes his way down to my neck, licking and sucking on almost all the surface area of it. His hands start to roam my thighs and they make their way up to-

"PUT MY FRIEND DOWN BOI" The closet door is swung open by Lizzie and when she sees the position we're in she pretends to faint and walks away laughing her ass off. Denki sets my legs back on the ground and awkwardly looks at everyone staring at us. "What?" He asks, they all divert their eyes as Denki takes my hand and leads me out of the lounge and outside to Lizzies' patio. We sit down at a table and smile at each other like dorks. "(Y/N), would you like to be my girlfriend? Given what we just did in the closet I would hope so but i figured i need to ask just to be sur-" I once again cut him off from rambling and press my lips onto his. This actually might be what everyone calls happily ever after...

jzfdb.kjdsgnbkjngbkjsg I'm REALLY bad at writing romantic scenes *cough* or any scene at all *cough* but i hope you all enjoyed!

#mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha oneshot #bnha oneshots #oneshot #denki kaminari #denki #kaminari #mina ashido #monoma neito #denki x reader #kaminari x reader

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undyingsunshine · 4 years ago

Note

YESSSSS YOU’RE BACK AND TAKING ASKS

14 and 15 for the most recent post, and I’m gonna come back with more too

Here we go!!!!

14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

Honestly, it usually differs from piece to piece! Usually, though, the title comes last! (Though I do have a short list of potential titles for Li Cu fics stored away, most of which are just lyrics from songs xD Whether I end up using them or not, only time will tell!)

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

All of these tend to give me a bit of trouble xD if I was to rank from hardest to easiest however, I think I'd say titles are the hardest and tags tend to be the easiest. For summaries I usually just slap a portion of the fic in and then add a small almost-summary below it, mostly because I feel like giving a sample of the fic will be more effective than trying to give a succinct description? Kind of shows you what you're getting into before you've even clicked xD

Titles, I use a lot of lyrics from songs, especially ones that I think fit with the character. Though, this does sometimes mean my titles are... long and it can make it a little awkward when trying to talk about the fics themselves. xD

Examples include;

"Come with me, I promise the water is fine..." Which is a lyric from God Bless Eric Taylor by Marietta, a song that I relate to Li Cu somewhat.

This next one is the title of a chapter instead of a whole fic, but I'll count it anyway xD Chapter 2 of I'm Here is titled: "I have this dream that I'm hitting my dad with a baseball bat and he is screaming and crying for help..." which is from the song Father by The Front Bottoms.

I ideally try to make it so that the lyrics also match up with the contents of the chapter/fic. I'm Here's second chapter is all about Li Cu's nightmares, so I thought the title would be pretty fitting xD Honestly, thinking back maybe I could've added more types of dreams.... Ones that fit that title even more.... Small rewrite of that Chapter perhaps? I don't think it would be that different, but still... Would add more angst onto everything xD

The title for "Come with me..." Also sort of relates to the contents of the fic, but moreso in the following line that appears in the summary: "I need something else to comvince me I won't die."

Honestly these lines could have me ranting a whole lot, especially in relation to Li Cu. Just makes me think of all his conflicted feelings, and how he must feel when he drags his friends into the mess he didn't even make. (And these feeling really would increase after Su Wan blames him for the snake bite and getting Shen Qiong inveolved, and during just... the entirety of the time he, Yang Hao, Su Wan and Liang Wan are in the desert together. (ESPECIALLY when Yang Hao is being absolutely mistreated by the 9 families, like sheesh.)

It's just a whole lot of guilt, but also maybe some stubborn determination? Li Cu is very adamant on living just to spit in the face of everyone around him. Existing out of pure spite, but with friends involved, it's more like he's existing to fulfil a purpose? One that he feels like he's bestowed upon himself. Not Wu Xie, or Rishan, or anyone. Just him. He stays alive so he can protect his friends. He'll keep them safe, he'll get them home alive. He has to. And he knows that he will. Or else, what is he even persevering for? "I need something to convince me I won't die." In the fic, this could also be referring to Wu Xie, as he kind of marks safety by the end of the drama. Wu Xie being there means it's okay. It means he doesn't have to fight anymore. And in the fic, it also means that Li Cu can let go. Of Everything. Permanently. (I have so many branching ideas based on that 300 word demon of a fic, you wouldn't even believe)

ANYWAY I'LL STOP RANTING ABT THAT FIC MAYBE I'LL TALK ABOUT THAT FIC MORE IN DEPTH SOME OTHER TIME IF PPL WANT IT.

As for tags, I struggle mostly because I never know what's okay to tag? I'm afraid of tagging a fic with something if the content of that particular tag doesn't show up all that much in the fic? Unless it's something that's a potnential trigger, and then I'll tag it, even if it's small. Just ot be safe. But like. Characters, I don't tag unless they're actually there and present and doing something. If they're mentioned, I tend to not tag them since it's not all that crucial? For people to know they show up for a second? Idk, I like to be as succinct and precise as possible with my tags, because I know how annoying it is for tags to be clogged or for fics to have too many tags xD

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

I have a few, surprisingly! I'll choose two, both from the second chapter of I'm Here!

"Each one makes him wake up, terrified and shaky and wanting to hide or just outright stop existing; to become intangible, untouchable, safe. Of course, he can't actually do that, so instead he pushes the fear down and suffocates it before burying it in the backyard of his mind in the hopes it'll never be dug up again."

Something I try and do while writing is find ways to explain how I. Just. Experience life? (This is also present in Chapter 1 with the line "Further frustration gathered in his chest, making it tighten with stress before it shot up into his throat". Just little things that I've never really seen in words before? That I feel but never know how to accurately describe.) There's always the whole "let the void swallow me/him/her/them whole" thing in media that I love because, honestly, mood. But I guess for this I just wanted to word it differently? In the way I felt was most accurate to myself. Just to be in a state of which nothing can get you, be it life or that one imaginary demon that you sometimes think is lurking around the house at the convenient time of 3 AM, Y'know? When real life becomes TOO real and you just want to blip out for a second, just pause everything and have a moment to be free of everything xD

I also just kind of like the metaphor(?) with his fear. Trust Li Cu to not only associate feelings with violence, but also treat his feelings violently xD I feel like I'm not the best when it comes to imagery and creative expression, especially through words. I point out the obvious, the facts, a lot, both when speaking normally and in writing, and it takes a bit of time for me to remember that I'm writing a story and not jotting a list of events xD So anytime I actually come up with something more kind of creatively written, I feel particularly happy with myself.

"He can't even fully comprehend what's been going on - everything feels bizarre and just out of reach, moreso than usual - but what he does know is that Wu Xie is here and he's angry. The man stands above Li Cu, his cold calculating eyes burning him with wordless accusations that, despite their ambiguity, feel justified. There's guilt, desperation and denial crashing inside him like waves assaulting a rickety raft on a stormy sea. What these feelings are for, he doesn't know. It makes him want to plead for forgiveness all the same."

Let's be honest, Li Cu probably has way too many mixed feelings on Wu Xie. The man who simultaneously built him up and destroyed him. The man who caused him agony, but is also probably one of the best things to come into Li Cu's life??? Like damn, I think I'd be pretty conflicted if I was Li Cu. And things only get worse when, in this fic's timeline, Wu Xie essentially ghosts Li Cu out of guilt for what he did to the kid. This is taken wrong by Li Cu, and he ends up feeling abandoned. By his own kidnapper. I just feel like this snippet is pretty okay at capturing all the blame he puts onto himself, and captures some of the trauma that comes with the events of Sha Hai as well. I just kind of like how this paragraph turned out in the end. xD

6. What character do you have the most fun writing

LI CU!!! Absolutely Li Cu. I don't know exactly what it is but it just. Clicks with me? Or at least the version I write of himd does, it's probably not even close to Li Cu's canon portrayal xD Maybe it's because of the fact that I'm also an angsty, angry 19 year old that I feel as such? It's much easier to put myself in the mind of a teenage boy rather than a 40 year old man xD In terms of non DMBJ writings, I have OCs that I love writing for! Funnily enough, one is an angsty 19 year old boy with a lot of self-worth issues (ringing any bells?) and the other is an angry, confused and conflicted character that was modified to be a kind of living weapon, but had since escaped and repressed all their memories of what happened. Though, the memories eventually start to resurface and they begin to question themself a whole lot, with flashbacks haunting the corners of their mind and driving them deeper and deeper into guilt-filled despair.

In general, angsty characters with a lot of conflicted emotions are super fun to write for! To flicker around from thought to thought and dive into all the hidden feelings that a character can have. It's just super enjoyable for me xD

#writing this while also writing an essay #it's helping me turn those rusty head gears #i feel like i can finally write things again xD #THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS SIERRA! I hope my answers were satisfactory!! xD #i think i went way too off-topic with some of these but honestly when do i ever stay on topic????#ask game #undying prattle #ramblerambleramble #miiiight edit this tomorrow to make it more comprehensible #but for now you can have this mess of a post xD

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jeranasblog · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty little Christmas elf

An early Christmas present for @venomondenim <3 Marry Christmas, Ash <3

Pairing: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Rating & Tags: E, Smut, A/B/O, Alpha Harley, Omega Peter, Top Harley, Bottom Peter, Anal Sex, Claiming, Mating Bites, True Mates, something happens in public xD

Summary: In the middle of a crowded shopping mall, surrounded by Christmas decor and stressed out people, Harley laid eyes on his true mate for the first time. Suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore that they were in public. His inner alpha screamed at him to claim his mate.

As soon as Harley took a step into the crowded mall, he regretted not buying his family’s presents earlier. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to wait until the 23rd because apparently, he wasn’t the only one who had deferred the shopping trip as often as possible. Hundreds upon hundreds of people were running through the mall, bumping into each other and apologizing hectically, only to squeeze back into the crowd again.

For a second, Harley pondered to turn around. He could just buy a box of chocolate for his foster mom and sister and a bottle of mulled wine for his foster dad, but he had already chosen impersonal gifts last year, and it had left him feeling guilty afterward.

It was the third foster family Harley had been with. Shortly after his parent’s death, he had stayed with an elderly married couple, and it had been fine, but the husband had died after a few years and the wife couldn’t take care of Harley alone, so she had sent him back to the orphanage. Harley wasn’t even mad. They had been nice people, but a foster child was a lot to handle.

The second family had been a nightmare. It was a constant fight between all of them, the mother was always screaming, the father was close to a mental breakdown, and the two daughters had been the most spoiled brats Harley had ever met. He had been glad when the mother had told him that, unfortunately, he had to leave again. Even the orphanage was better than that.

Harley hadn’t thought he would ever find a family again that actually felt like a family, but shortly after he turned thirteen, he had met the Keeners. They had immediately clicked. Mr. and Mrs. Keener were amazing people, and his sister Becky became Harley’s partner in crime. Together, they beat high school and started college. For the first time since his parent’s death, Harley felt like he belonged somewhere, and even now, ten years later, he wanted to give something back. So no cheap chocolates and mull wine again. He owed the Keeners something better.

The present for Becky was easy to find. She had talked about her new favorite author for months now, indirectly trying to tell Harley she wanted him to buy her the new book. The only reason why it took half an hour to get her present was the long line and the maddeningly slow pace of the stressed-out cashier.

Unfortunately, Harley had no clue what he could give his parents, and he had only three hours left to find out. He spent an hour walking around and looking at random shop windows until he finally saw a velvety blue tie that his dad would like and a tea set for his mom.

There was no way Harley could have ever imagined how the day would turn out. He was already on his way out of the mall, relieved that he could leave the Christmas stress behind when he saw him for the first time.

In the middle of the crowded hallway stood an old wooden chair and a middle-aged man, dressed as Santa, was talking to children and handing them candy canes. A long line of parents with their kids had formed in front of the man, waiting patiently to take a picture with Santa, but it wasn’t the man who captured Harley’s attention.

Next to Santa stood three Christmas elves, two girls and one boy. They were posing next to Santa for pictures, scooting up little children, and handing Santa the candy canes. The elves wore ridiculous costumes and Harley might have pitied them for their job, but he couldn’t think straight anymore when he laid eyes on the male elf.

The boy was the most beautiful Omega Harley had ever seen. His face was flawless, soft brown curls framing his porcelain skin, and hazel-brown eyes sparkled behind sinfully long lashes. Harley could even see cute little freckles on his nose, and the boy’s lips looked so soft that he couldn’t stop imagining what they would feel like wrapped around Harley’s cock. His inner alpha roared.

To make it even worse, the boy was dressed almost obscenely. He wore an ugly green sweater, green shorts that were so tight that Harley got an obscene few of his plump little ass, and green tights underneath. To complete the look, he wore pointy ears and Harley had to suppress the urge to peel the boy out of the ridiculous outfit to get access to the pale skin.

Harley had just wanted to get closer, maybe wink at the cute little elf and ask for his number, but when they were only a few feet apart, Harley made the mistake to breathe through his nose. The most perfect scent he had ever smelled slammed into him. Sweet, like Christmas cookies and gingerbread, but with a hint of coffee underneath. It was intense, almost sinful, and it made Harley lose control.

Mate mate mate.

Claim breed fuck.

Nothing could have held him back anymore. Harley jumped at the omega, burying his nose in the soft curls and breathing in the intoxicating scent. Everyone was looking at him, the busy mall suddenly frozen and quiet, but Harley didn’t care. He found his mate. His omega. He didn’t care if everyone was watching.

The omega wasn’t better off. He was trembling in Harley’s arms, the sweet scent of slick mixing together with the gingerbread, driving Harley even more crazy.

“A-Alpha.” God, the boy’s voice was adorable, high-pitched and needy. Harley wanted to make him sing with pleasure.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you, little omega,” Harley promised, his voice rough and almost feral. “I’m gonna peel you out of your obscene little clothes and fill you up with my pups until you’re round and sated. Would you like that, sweetheart? Want me to claim you?”

People around them were clearing their throats. It wasn’t every day that one could witness true mates seeing themselves for the first time, but if it happened, it usually ended in public claimings. Still, the mall was filled with children, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for Harley to claim his omega right here. Unfortunately, the alpha was too far gone to give a fuck about decency.

“Please, claim me. Alpha.”

The little elf was already begging and Harley grabbed his ass tightly when he pulled the omega into a kiss. His entire body was buzzing with electricity as he licked into the boy’s mouth, tasting every inch of his mate and marking him up with his scent. Harley’s hands wandered into the tight green shorty, deeper and deeper until he could feel the wetness drenching his finger-

“Peter!” It was Santa who interrupted him, using his alpha voice to get the omega’s -Peter’s?- attention. “Take your mate and go. Run.”

Harley shook his head in annoyance. Run? His omega wasn’t supposed to run. He was supposed to get fucked and bred. But the boy, no Peter, seemed to listen to Santa and darted out of the mall.

NO! Mate. Chase.

Faster than he had ever run, Harley started to chase his mate. He was growling the whole time, shoving people out of his way to get to his omega. Peter dodged the other customers deftly, never out of Harley’s sight but always a few feet ahead. Harley was getting impatient. He had to get to his omega, he had to catch him. His instincts drove him to run faster.

Peter led him to the entrance of the mall, out to the parking space, and towards a small building at the end. Harley was catching up, coming closer and closer, only inches away from his mate.

He finally caught Peter when they had already reached the building, pressing the omega against the door next to the ‘only for staff’ sign and mouthing at his neck. He would knot the pretty elf, would bite and claim him. The chase had only made him more feral.

“Mine,” Harley snarled while he sucked a bruise onto the perfect pale skin. “My omega, mine.”

Peter trembled in arousal, slick already dampening the awful tights and his obscene pants. How could anyone think the tight little shorts were appropriate to wear in front of children? He was almost as gone as Harley, high with the need to be claimed.

“Just let me open the door, Alpha. I swear you can breed me after.”

Harley growled, clearly displeased by the request to wait, but he gathered the last control he possessed so Peter could open the door and let them in. His omega’s hands trembled, struggling to get the key into the lock, but after a few horrible seconds, the door finally opened with a click. Harley’s patience crumbled.

The alpha barely noticed that Peter closed the door again, he barely even looked at the room. He jumped at his omega, pushing him to the floor and pulling down the horrible green pants. The smell of slick was overwhelming, making Harley’s cock twitch and leak as he finally drew a deep breath. Peter smelled like temptation.

“This is your last chance to leave. I can barely hold back.” Harley had to make sure the omega was fine with the claiming. “I won’t be able to stop myself from biting you.”

“Please, I want it, please fuck me, Alpha. Claim me.”

It was everything Harley had waited for. He was too far gone for slow and sweet. Spreading Peter’s perfect little cheeks, Harley merely checked if the omega was wet enough before he pressed the tip of his cock against the hole and sunk in without any resistance. It felt like coming home, like family and mate and love, and Harley preened because his omega was moaning in pleasure.

There was no drawing this out, no taking it slow or making love. Harley claimed the omega. He rammed himself inside of Peter, each thrust deeper and harder, directed exactly at the sweet spot. He was driving them both closer to the edge in rapid speed, sex with the only intention to claim each other. They hadn’t even taken off their clothes.

Just a second before they would tumble over the edge, Peter’s noises turned into something more coherent. “Ngh, Alpha, I- What’s y-your name? I w-wanna know who’s claiming me.”

Harley pulled Peter closer against his chest, his thrusts accelerating even more while he brought his lips to the omega’s ears.

“My name’s Harley. Scream it for me. Show me what I’m doing to you.”

And just like this Peter came. His wet hole was milking Harley, squeezing him tightly and pulling him over the edge as well. Harley emptied himself in the boy, pumping his seed into his omega while Peter was screaming his name over and over again. The alpha could feel his knot swelling, could feel how he tied them together to breed Peter properly.

Endorphines rushed through his body, the alpha inside of him taking over, and Harley sunk his teeth into his omega’s neck. He had never felt anything that intense before.

As soon as Harley tasted blood on his lips, he sealed the bond. It was like Peter became a part of him, their emotions mingling until Harley felt everything twice as intense. His cock spurted another surge of come, driven by Peter’s own arousal, and Harley closed his eyes.

They took their time to gather their breaths, to get used to sharing what they were. Harley had never thought he would meet a true mate, would claim him like this, but now that he had met Peter, he couldn’t imagine being without his omega anymore. It was biology, but it was also right.

As long as they were tied together, Harley and Peter stayed silent, scenting and feeling each other, and getting used to their bond. It took them a while to come down again. When Harley finally slipped out, he gave Peter his shirt to clean himself up. Harley would just wear his jacket.

“Uhm, I’m Harley Keener by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Peter grinned at him, an adorable expression on his face and Harley felt the strong urge to wrap his arms around the omega.

“Nice to meet you, Harley. I’m Peter Parker. ”

Harley didn’t hold back anymore and pulled his omega on his lap, just where Peter was supposed to be. The boy looked cute, still half-dressed in the elf costume with pointy ears and Harley’s mark on his neck. Who would have known that he would find his mate in a shopping mall, dressed like a sinful Christmas dream?

“My pretty little Christmas elf.” Who would have known that this Christmas would bring a surprise like Peter?

#parkner #christmas fanfiction #a/b/o dynamics #true mates #harley keener #peter parker

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detectivedamian · 4 years ago

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do you have any top ten favourite damijon fics?

Oh my 😂 Gonna make me do a deep dive of my AO3 are we, Nonni? Okay so I haven’t put a lot of thought into it, but these are fics that I ADORE that have stuck with me, in no particular order lol

* Are M And Up

The Navigating Life Series by @nightwingbb, specifically Stay The Night -- They’ve fallen into a sort of routine since that night. Damian will come to Metropolis for one reason or another, usually for Robin business. He and Jon will meet up, beat the bad guy, and then go back to Jon’s tiny apartment to have mind blowing sex. Damian never stays the night. They never talk about what any of it means.

This fic is angsty and satisfying and honestly pretty hot. It’s got Jealous Damian, it’s got Pining Jon, Pining Damian, brief flashes of what their mind-blowing sex entails, and just when you feel your heart breaking, Jon proves just how Super he is and fixes things ❤️ Def recommend.

Song of Myself by MrsOkita -- The Titans has a new member, Jon catches someone’s eyes, and Damian has a crisis. In the middle of it all, he also seems to have unrequited feelings.

Damian tries to help a new member earn Jon’s love, and quickly finds that he hates that idea of Jon with anyone else. Jealous Damian with Confused Jon, Pining Jon, with a little bit of Hurt Damian. Don’t worry, our boy Jon fixes things right up when he figures out who was really behind all of the gifts ;P

*complete by salazarastark-- Damian and Jon indulge in a little public fingering that turns into a lot more.

ABO Dynamics, some crossdressing (and I don’t care for that sort of thing but I ignored it here lmao) and some talk in the heat of it all about having a family together. If you’re looking for some smut 👀 👀 👀

Magical Menagerie by GordandV-- “So just to make this absolutely clear, the bottom line is that you need someone who is pure and graceful to tame a unicorn. Right?”

“Purity isn’t a metaphor for goodness."

Diana seeks assistance to rescue a unicorn. It is harder than expected to find help for this mission, and brings to light an unexpected secret for Damian and Jon.

Holy mother of GOD this fic is an absolute laugh fest. Absolutely nobody thinks Damian has gotten lucky yet, but uh... well, Jon hopped on that train sooner than anyone thought he would 👀

*No Complaints by timkons-- There's a first time for everything.

Poor Dami learns how to be the bottom of the two xD And Jon takes control in such a way that leaves the reader swooning. They’re just so in love with each other, and you can feel it in every bit of this piece.

*Be Mine, Beloved by LowLittleNobody-- Damian already had enough problems in this hopeless world, already caught between choosing his father or Superman's side of the war. Of course, the young Jon Kent manages to make all his issues look insignificant after kidnapping him!

I’m not usually one for AUs, or genderbends at that, but there’s Jealous Damian with a Promiscuous, very In Love Jon, though Jon is a tad unhinged. Oh yeah, he uh, turned Dami into a girl. Because he needed a wife. This fic is steamy so far, and the fact that Damian has his walls up already, and then he finds out that Jon has been sleeping with his maids all while trying to convince Damian he loves him? I’m eager to see just how Jon proves to Dami that he’s madly in love with him and that he wants no one else.

Eyes, Nose, Lips by MoistMango-- Your eyes, nose, lips- Everything about you.

Not a lot I can say about this one aside from the fact that it’s an adorable lovey piece. Just these two musing about just how they love every inch of each other. They’re so in love that it’s painful.

shake, bend, and break by angree_baratheon-- Can you blame Damian for suddenly kissing such a beautiful person?

Holy mother of god this one is so well written. Damian is jealous and sad and he loves Jon so much, and he watches Jon talk and get all lovey-eyed at a girl at the party Jon dragged him to. He figures Jon must be okay, right? So he goes to leave-- but Jon would never, ever let Damian leave him so easily.

That’s actually all I have at the moment! I’ll be updating it later, I’m sure lol

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 4 years ago

Text

Pas De Deux - Chapter 3 (End)

Title: Pas De Deux

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: not really needed for this fluff lol

Tags: fluff, pretty much just a whole lot of fluff XD

Summary: Dean is a closeted ballet dancer, and Cas is playing the Nutcracker Prince in the Kansas State Ballet. When the ballet loses their Clara and Cas confronts Dean about taking the part along side him, will he be able to put aside his fears and let everyone know who he really is? All to help the man of his dreams?

MASTERLIST

AO3

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

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

Chapter Three

He woke up to the sun blasting through a crack in his curtains, hitting him perfectly across the eyes. He rubbed his face as he slowly sat up in bed, feeling a bit better then he had when he first came home, and wondered how long he had slept. Looking at the clock and seeing it was now after nine, and he had managed to get a decent few hours sleep, he decided to head down to the kitchen and see who was up. Sam was usually an early bird and most times already had breakfast ready by the time Dean decided to roll down stairs.

When he got there Sam was in the kitchen, showered, dressed, and stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce he was making for dinner. And just as Dean had expected, there was a fresh pot of coffee made and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast waiting for him on the counter.

He walked over and sat down on one of the stools at the island, watching Sam as he ate, "Where's Mom?"

"Around somewhere," he answered, as he turned and placed a cup of coffee in front of Dean, "she was up before I was today."

He nodded and focused on finishing his food, then thanked Sam before heading through the house to go find their mom. He walked down the hall and heard the slam of the dryer door in the laundry room, so he took a hard right and found her inside. Though his smile instantly dropped when he saw her, his entire body froze, and every limb hummed with anxiety while all he could do was stare at his mom, holding two things in her hands staring at them in confusion.

The first was the tickets Dean had been given by the directors of the ballet, the ones that were meant for her and Sam. The second… was Dean's tights.

"Mom…" He finally managed to breathe out, and she turned to look at him.

"Dean, what… what is this? Are they yours?"

"Why do you have those? Why were you in my bag?"

"You were sleeping, and I saw your bag on the washing machine," she tried to speak calmly, not wanting Dean to freak out, seeing he was clearly on the brink of a meltdown, "I figured since you seemed so tired lately I would do your laundry for you. But what is this? Are you… are you in this show?"

He was pretty much in tears now, he was so scared. He wanted to do this differently, he wanted to tell them on his own terms, when he felt ready, not have his mom find out on her own because he forgot he left his bag on the washing machine. "I forgot I left my bag here. I… I…"

Mary just calmly reached out and took Dean by the shoulders, gently guiding him to the kitchen and sitting him at the table. She sat across from him, staring helplessly at him as he just placed his head on his hands, fingers wringing tightly in his hair, knuckles white.

"Woah," Sam dropped the wooden spoon on the counter with a clatter and practically ran around the counter to sit beside Dean at the table, "what's going on?!"

"Dean, talk to us, Honey," Mary tried to get him to look up but he wouldn't budge, "Were those tights yours?"

"Tights?!" Sam looked between them.

"I… I couldn't tell you." He shook his head, hands still over his eyes, "I was afraid."

"Tell us what, Dean,?" Sam tried this time, placing a hand on Dean's shaking shoulder.

"Why not, Honey?"

"Dad…" He finally lifted his head slightly out of his hands, wiping the tears that had smudged all over his face now, though still not making eye contact with anyone. "Dad would never want me to be the person I am, he would be disappointed."

"Disappointed about what, Dean?!" Sam moved to get into Dean's eye line but he quickly darted his eyes away. "You're a great person, why would anyone be disappointed in you? What could you have done that's so wrong?"

Dean just shook his head and closed his eyes, the sobs coming back a little harder now. Mary reached over the table and managed to get ahold of one of his to squeeze it comfortingly. "Tell Sam, it's okay."

"I…" He tried to look at Sam but he couldn't. He was afraid that just because his dad was gone and he couldn't see the look of disappointment on his face, he still might see it on Sam's. But he forced it out anyways, since there was no going back now, "I… dance."

"Okay," Sam shrugged his bottom lip and shook his head, seemingly unfazed, "I still don't understand why you're crying though. Lots of people dance, many of them are amazingly talented, so why are you so upset?"

"But I'm a ballet dancer, Sam! Not some crazy cool hip hop dancer that you're probably thinking of, no, I dance around the stage in girly tights!" He slammed a fist down on the table, making Sam jump a little. "And the tickets Mom found in my bag, along with my tights, were for the performance I am going to be in. I am part of the Kansas State Ballet's rendition of The Nutcracker."

"You… you dance ballet?" Sam smiled a bit at the thought, "Dean Winchester, the manliest man of all men to ever man, dances ballet?"

"This is exactly why I didn't say anything," Dean just shook his head and wiped away more stray tears, "Dad would have killed me if he ever found out that I loved ballet, let alone taught myself the skill. He wanted me to be the manly man that everyone knows and thinks I am, not some pansy dancing around the stage in tights."

"But, Dean, that's awesome!" Dean turned to Sam, a little startled. "Ballet’s actually one of the most intense dance forms out there! It's so powerful, and moving. And the fact that you taught yourself the art, and are a part of a state ballet group, is something that a lot of classically trained dancers could never even come close to be able to do!"

"But… Dad-"

“Your father is gone now, Honey, has been for four years," she gave his hand a squeeze again, and this time she managed to catch his eye, "you have to stop looking over your shoulder and expecting him to be there. It's only holding you back. He would have been proud of you no matter what, he loved you."

"Would he still be proud if he knew I wore tights and danced in pointe shoes?"

Mary shrugged, "He might have been a little sad that you didn't want to follow in his footsteps and fall into sports, but he would have supported you regardless. I know he seemed like a hardened man, but he loved you boys. And now it's time for you to just let go of that past and be yourself, Dean.”

Dean shook his head vigorously, gasping out, "I can't,"

“You can.” She assured him in her most firm mom voice she could muster.

"You don't understand!" Dean nearly screamed, "It is hardwired into my brain that I shouldn't be this way! I should be covered in dirt sliding across a baseball diamond, or sweating through my gear on the ice, not dancing in skin tight outfits and sparkles. He would hate me, he would hate everything I am!"

"No he wouldn't," she said softly and shook her head, "but that doesn't matter anymore, Dean, this is your time to be you, and I wish you would have told me sooner rather than suppressing this obvious passion. I want you to be happy, Dean, and if ballet is it for you then that is perfectly fine! Just be you, please, Honey.”

He didn't say anymore after that. Just sat at the table for most of the day, contemplating everything that his mom and brother had said, and what he was going to do about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was their last rehearsal before they would open to the public. Opening night was right around the corner. Everyone was a cluster of excitement and nerves, buzzing around the theater, the knowledge that their tickets had sold out seconds after being released was making the atmosphere even more intense. The entire cast was reeling, well, everyone except Dean. He still hadn't shown up at the theater yet, he was almost an hour late for the rehearsal, and Cas was starting to get worried. Along with others.

"Have you heard from him, Castiel?" Cas just shook his head at a worried Chuck from center stage, "Has anyone heard from Dean?!"

He ran through the theater, asking everyone about Dean as the rest of the cast waited patiently on stage. Cas just stood there alone, worried, waiting along with everyone else, his body tingling with fear that maybe Dean wasn't coming back. Maybe this was it, maybe he had decided he didn't want this anymore, or his family didn't want it.

He listened to the hushed conversations around him, trying to focus on that for a moment, but that didn't help. For the very first thing he heard was one of the female dancers saying to another, “I overheard him saying yesterday that he was going home to tell his family about the show, he was worried it wouldn’t go over well. I hope everything’s okay.”

And if Castiel's heart wasn't already in his feet. But then suddenly pounding footsteps came from Castiel's right and he turned to see Dean bouncing across the stage to stand next to him. "I'm here, sorry I'm so late!"

Both Chuck and Metatron breathed hard sighs of relief and said, “Oh thank heavens!”

"I just had some things to clear up back home, I'm really sorry!" The directors both waved him off, just thankful their other star was still here. Then he turned his attention to Cas at his side and smiled, a little twinkle in his eye as he said only to him, "I'm ready for this, I'm ready to just be me."

"Shall we get this final rehearsal on the road then?!" Metarton waved his hands in the air and everyone started running around them. "Places people, places!"

Cas walked over with a matching smile to Dean’s and took both his hands in his own. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to, neither of them did. So instead he just lifted Dean's hands to his mouth, placed a gentle kiss on the knuckles of each hand, and then moved back to get in his place. The whole time the two of them never took their eyes off one another, even as the orchestra started playing their final dance.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was finally opening night and Dean had never been so god damn nervous in his entire life. He was currently standing backstage in full costume, peeking out the curtain at the completely full seats, people packing into the theater, and his heart was pounding out of his chest. Then he looked to the front row and saw his mom and Sam, sitting in the seats given to them by the directors, and then both Chuck and Metatron waltzed through the orchestra to introduce themselves to them. That made his nerves even worse, he was sure his heart was going to pop out of his chest and explode, and he had the sudden urge to whip off his pointe shoes and get the hell outta dodge. But then there were hands on his shoulders, rubbing up and down his arms, steadying and grounding. "Cas," he breathed and leaned back.

"You're nervous," he whispered into Dean's ear as he leaned impossibly closer to Cas.

He nodded, "Sammy's here, and my mom, talking to Chuck and Metatron," he let out a long shuddering sigh, "what if they hate it? What if I mess up because they're watching?! What if everyone laughs at me?! Cas!"

He turned Dean towards him and pulled him into a tight hug, Dean wrapping his arms around his neck and digging his face in, "You're spiraling, Dean," he rubbed his hands soothingly up and down his back, "you have nothing to worry about. I promise that not just your family, but everyone in the audience will love your performance. You will not fall, because I will always catch you. And no one will laugh at you, because if they do they will have to answer to me."

Dean chuckled against Cas's neck as Cas continued, "You will be fine. You know the dances inside and out, you know every single move, every line." Cas kept going as he felt Dean relaxing, and started moving his hands up Dean's sides to his arms, then his hands, twisting him around and resting his head on his shoulder, wrapping their clasped hands around Dean and holding him tightly to his chest. "And you know me, and I know you. When we dance together our bodies are one and it is just you and I on the stage together, just us. That's all you need to remember, and if you feel like you are starting to slip, just reach out your hand and I will be there, I promise."

Dean just nodded and inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself, and it definitely helped when Cas gently pressed his lips to Dean's neck. Not so much a kiss but it was oh so comforting.

They stayed like that for a while, as long as they could, Cas's lips still pressed to Dean's neck and rocking them softly back and forth. Until the lights started to flicker, the signal for everyone to take their seats and for the cast and crew to take their positions.

Cas gave Dean one last hug before pulling back and taking Dean's hands in his, lifting them to his mouth to do his new favourite thing, and placed a kiss on the knuckles of each hand. Then moved across the stage to stand on the other side facing Dean.

His nerves came back a bit now that Cas was gone, he could still see him but not having his hands on him was unsettling him again, and even more so when he heard Chuck and Metatron on the other side of the curtain, addressing the audience before the show would start.

"Welcome everyone to the Kansas State Ballet's rendition of The Nutcracker!" Metatron announced and claps and cheers filled the air.

"Though," Chuck stepped in, "we got off to a pretty rocky start, didn't we."

Metatron chuckled, "That we did, but maybe for the better!"

"Very true," Chuck nodded, then turned to the audience, "early on in rehearsals we had a small bump, that being that our original lead of Clara had to… unexpectedly leave us. But, in place of her, we were gifted an angel, your very own, champion of dance, hometown boy, Dean Winchester!"

From backstage Dean could hear everyone cheering, clapping louder than before, and the undeniable Sam Winchester whistle and hollar combo, which he had to admit eased his nerves just a bit. And Chuck and Metatron went on.

"Well, look at us, gushing over our stars," Metatron laughed, "we should just let you see for yourselves the pure, raw chemistry and talent that we have discovered here. Allow us to let Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak steal your hearts as they have ours."

"So, without further ado," Chuck said just before they backed away to duck backstage, "we give you, The Nutcracker!"

They both backed away, tucked themselves backstage to watch their masterpiece unfold, as the curtain opened and the lights shone hot and bright on the stage.

Dean took a deep breath, the worst part of this ballet was that he had to do the first act without Cas, before the Nutcracker Prince came in to play. But he looked over at Cas, still standing directly across from him, and he gave him a reassuring smile and gestured to himself and Dean. Just you and I together, Dean thought, I'm dancing for Cas. And with a smile and a new found burst of energy he bounded across the stage to give the best performance he could.

~~~~~~~~~~~

As the show went on and Dean was finally able to get to dance with Cas, his very own Nutcracker Prince, that chemistry that Chuck and Metatron had spoken of came in full force.

Sam watched in complete awe from the front row as his brother moved on stage before him. He had never seen Dean so happy, so powerful, so amazing! And the way he danced with the other lead, it was such an intense form of intimacy, of pure completeness, that Sam was sure the entire audience could feel it. The atmosphere around him was on fire, and everyone in the audience was on the edge of their seats through the entire performance.

The ballet had everything, Sam thought as his eyes opened impossibly wider with each passing act. Crazy fights, ups, downs, emotions, romance, devastation, and love. And all too soon for him, and everyone else watching, it was too quickly coming to an end.

He watched as the Nutcracker Prince and Charles came together for their final dance, and he had to admit that he was slightly jealous at the way Dean and the Nutcracker were looking at each other. But he was oh so happy for his brother, he was finally truly happy.

Sparks were clearly flying between them, and as the orchestra played the final notes of the song, Charles and his Nutcracker Prince held their ending poses and the entire audience rose to their feet. Not a single person wasn't standing, not a single eye was dry, and that included both Chuck and Metatron who walked slightly out on the stage, both cheering as loud as everyone else was.

And just before the other dancers joined them on stage for a bow, Cas couldn't resist doing what he had been wanting to do for so long. Both of them panting, gazing deeply at each other, Dean's pure blissful smile that he knew was only there for him, and Cas knew what would make the perfect ending to this night. So he pulled lightly on Dean's hand in his and he bounced forwards into Castiel's arms. And right there, in front of everyone in the audience, Cas dipped Dean backwards and finally, finally kissed Dean.

The audience erupted impossibly louder, but Dean and Cas didn't even hear it. It was just the two of them. Dean clutched tighter to Cas as he dipped him a little further back, and Dean ran his hands up to clutch Cas's face as the cast around them bowed, and the curtain closed in front of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel's lips were on his for what felt like a blissful eternity, lips and tongue moving with Dean's as if they were built perfectly for each other. And Dean never wanted it to end, but eventually it had to.

One of their celebrating cast members bumped into them as they bounced by, excited over a perfect performance, and Cas gave Dean one last long kiss before they pulled apart and Cas stood them back up.

Dean was even more breathless now then he had been after the dance had ended. Kissing Cas was something he had wanted to do since the very first moment he saw him dancing in that studio, and all he could do was smile and even blush a little as he pulled Cas's forehead to rest on his, "It's about time."

Cas chuckled, his chest vibrating against Dean's as he did, and pulled Dean in even closer, "Wanted to do that for a very long time now."

"Me too, Cas."

They stood together for a moment before Cas said, "You were amazing, Dean."

"So were you," he nuzzled his nose against Cas's, leaning in a little closer for another kiss, "I wouldn't have been able to do all of this if it wasn't for you."

Before they could kiss again, a screech was heard from off to the side, startling them both as well as silencing the entire cast and crew still backstage. Cas clutched a little tighter to Dean, but Dean just laughed and hid his face in Cas's shoulder before he turned slightly, still holding Cas.

"Mom," he laughed as she came running through the parting crowd towards them, nearly crashing into them, "stop freaking out, it's embarrassing."

She pulled him away from Cas and into the tightest bear hug he had ever been in, "You were amazing, Honey, so absolutely amazing!"

"Mom's right, Dean," Sam came up behind them, taking his turn to hug Dean, "that was the best performance I have ever seen! It had everything! I was literally on the edge of my seat the entire time!"

"Thanks, Sammy! And I’m glad you're here cuz there’s someone I want you to meet," Dean said as he backed up, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he turned back and took Castiel's hand, bringing him forwards a bit, "this is Cas, the other lead and… and…"

Dean stuttered, not exactly sure what to say, especially while his mom and brother were staring at him so intensely. Not to mention the all too knowing matching Winchester smirks they were sending his way. So Cas stepped forward, hand outstretched towards them, "I'm Dean's boyfriend."

Boyfriend, Dean thought, and his stomach had butterflies again, though this time the good kind. And he couldn't help but laugh as his boyfriend's hand was swatted away by Sam, and he was taken in a Winchester group hug, while Sam patted his back and said, "Welcome to the family, man!" Then backed away and held out two bouquets of flowers to the both of them, "And these are for you guys, congrats on an amazing first performance, and many more to come!"

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said as he took it, then settled himself against Cas's side again, "it means a lot that you guys liked the show."

"We really did, Honey, and we’re so proud of you, both of you." She stood between them for one more hug and a kiss on each boy's cheek before backing away and saying, "alright, you two change and then I'm taking you both to dinner, on me. Sammy and I will wait for you by the car."

Dean watched them go with a smile as Cas pulled him a little closer so he could kiss his cheek. "Your family is great, I am glad to be a part of it."

"They're a little crazy but I love them," he said and turned a bit, smiling at Cas, "almost as much as I love you."

"And I love you, Dean," he said as he leaned in, pressing his lips to Dean's in an almost kiss, "I am so very glad that you snuck into that dance studio and watched me dancing like a creeper."

Dean couldn't help but laugh against Cas's lips and said, "Me too, Cas, me too," and closed the gap between them. Dean was pleased that everything had turned out better than he had ever thought it would, and that the ballet had been a winning performance, but of all of that the only thing that he really cared about was that the man in his arms, currently kissing him absolutely senseless, was finally all his. His very own Nutcracker Prince.

The end.

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

A/N: So that’s the end friends! My one shot turned three chapter fic lol

I hope you guys enjoyed it, and as always I have plenty more fics on the horizon, so look forward to those! Love you guys! <3

I also wanted to send a huge shout out to my lovely friend @thebridgekid for always putting up with me, reading all my crazy ideas, and just being super awesome <3<3<3

@dean-humanity-winchester

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tinkadreamchaser · 4 years ago

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Vargas Astrology

Recently, there was a post zarla-s made about birthdays and the question came up when Scriabins birthday would be. Since I’m a nerd for astrology, I’ve already been trying to figure that out for Edgar, but this kind of gave me the drive to get it done. And oh jesus, this is gonna be a lot. There’s a tl;dr at the bottom, hahah. Astrology is the one thing I am good at xD

I started off just looking for their Sun Sign, but I consider Rising and Moons Signs as well, they have a strong influence on what we seem like and what our emotional world looks like respectively.

If we go by the day the fic started, Scriabin would be Aquarius, which is kind of fitting, because Aquarius can be really manipulative. We look at people like an alien, in a way of ‘how do I make you do this without you noticing?’ Aquarius is supposedly a team player, but let me tell you, I have never witnessed that from myself. We can be a little unsentimental on a personal level, but we do get moving when bigger things are concerned. Aquarius is all about progress and making paradise a reality.

Funnily enough, if the chapter where he gets his name was out a few days earlier, he would have been a Taurus, which I don’t think fits all that well? They are more of a dependable best friend, the kind of person who care and provide for people. Honestly, this was my first guess for Edgar, but while doing this, I amended that he might be a Virgo and just a Taurus rising (meaning he comes across Taurus-like on first glance). But yeah, chapter 6 DID get out a little late for Taurus anyways, so we get Gemini, which I think if ironic because twins! But yeah, that sign is all about communication and curiosity. There is a stigma that they are two-faced, but really, they just change moods and interests really quickly. They are good at talking a lot of game, though, so that’s interesting.

I also thought about chapter 29 as a possibility, but that would make Scriabin an Aries, which may be the baby of the zodiac, so hahah, new person and all, but. They are the kind of happy-go-lucky, hold-no-grudges kind of people that are way too open and honest with their feelings to fit well for him.

Honestly, based on personality alone, I would have pegged Scriabin as a Scorpio or a Leo. Leo sounded very fitting because they think they are the best at everything and need to be the center of attention at all times. They’re kind of drama queens too and well, since lions are the kings of the jungle, they are natural leaders. But Scorpio could be a good fit as well. They are into dark stuff and often come across as mysterious. They are sensitive to emotions, though, they see what you think and feel before you do. And if you ever cross them, Scorpio can easily weaponize this and sting right back. They’re also prone to get obsessed and jealous easily.

There’s a lot of other stuff, but if we went by personality alone, I’d peg Scriabin as a Scorpio, with Leo as a Rising Sign (Because that was what strangers would think, if they were into Astroglogy) and a Virgo as a Moon Sign. The Moon sign is all about the emotional world and Virgo (my personal headcanon Sun Sign for Edgar by the way, lol) is all about control. This can go either way too, they either have to be in control of everything, or they just sit back and let someone else control them.

The problem now would be figuring out what year Scriabin gets as a birth year, lol. I usually use Chinese zodiacs to help with that, so I guess 2003 would make him a goat, which just… no. They’re sweethearts, way too gentle. Kind of like Taurus actually. Then there is the chapter where they split, in 2015, which whoops, it’s a goat again. Hm. Okay, in story, they are in 1995/1996? I think?? I’ll just look at 1994-1997 and see what fits, hahah ^^’

That’s Dog, Pig, Rat and Ox, which are all frustratingly sweet in their own right. Thankfully, there are the elements they get too. The Fire Ox is short-sighted, selfish, narrow-mined, impersonal, but practical. The Fire Rat is too friendly to fit and the Wood Dog and Wood Dog are the same. So that leaves me to scan through Oct/Nov 1997 to find the proper date for the Scorpio/Leo/Virgo mix.

As for Edgar, that was a little easier. I pegged him for a Taurus right off the bat when reading the jthm comics (because that is a thing I do, yes.) But in Vargas, that would make him merely a Taurus Rising, because so much in his life is about control that I couldn’t resist making him a Virgo. In a nutshell, they are just virgins in denial, which I find hilarious. And if they fail at something, they blame everyone else *cough Scriabin cough*

And then ther is his Moon Sign, which was a little harder to nail down properly. Moon Signs are an indication of how our emotions work and it took me a lot of thinking, but I believe Pisces would fit here. They are at the end of the zodiac and everything just compiles into them. In the emotional aspect, they are caring, but also sensitive and tend to kind of ‘absorb‘ the energy of others around them. Kinda like a feelings-sponge. Makes it really easy to exploit them, too.

As for his birth year, seeing as we don’t have an age for Edgar, I simply went with the Wood Dragon for his Chinese Sign, which would be in 1964. The Wood Horse is Introverted, less enthusiastic than other Horses and generally lack in good relationships, so it’s a great fit. Also, fun fact: their luck colours include silver and grayish white.

So yeah, tl;dr: Based off their personalities, I think Scriabin would be Scorpio as a Sun Sign, Leo as a Rising Sign (the way he seems) and a Virgo as a Moon Sign (the emotional side). That leaves me with October 27, 1997 around 11 pm (time is needed for the Rising Sign).

Edgar I think is a Virgo, with Pisces as a Moon Sign and Taurus Rising. This concludes to August 24 1964, around 11 PM.

#zarla-s #Scriabin #Edgar #astrology #birthdays #i was actually asked about my conclusions for once #so you get a lot of rambling #Vargas #jthm

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szopenhauer · 4 years ago

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Are you the type of person who gets straight to the point?: I try my best to explain things but ppl still don’t understand the obvious

What was the last thing you said in complete caps?: not sure what was last

Do you enjoy playing board games?: some

Did you wear anything new today?: pineapple shirt my mom bought for me recently

Do you ever eavesdrop on people’s conversations?: hard not to when they’re so loud

Are you good at playing Hide and Go Seek?: I was because I’m tiny XD

Who or what made you smile last?: my thoughts

What was the last song you had on repeat?: Daisy by Ashnikko :x

Do you often have that song on repeat?: no that was one time only lol I hardly ever have a son on repeat, that happened like 5 times in my entire life, usually after breakup

Silly string or confetti?: fun but too messy and waste of money so none

How long is your favorite song?: about 3.50

What was the highlight of your day today?: it’s complicated

Do you tap your foot when you listen to music?: I tap but mostly due to anxiety ^^”

Would you rather use tape or glue?: tape

Homemade or store bought cards?: store bought

Do you listen to any hip hop?: nah

How about some lyrics?: I'm tired of weakness Tired of my feet of clay I'm tired of days to come I'm tired of yesterday And all the worn out things that I ever said Now it's much too late The words stay in my head (...) I'm tired of Facebook Tired of my failing health I'm tired of everyone And that includes myself Well being alone now It doesn't bother me But not knowing if you are That's been hell you see

Have you ever had a fascination with stickers? slightly

Have you ever seen A Walk To Remember? yeah Did you ever watch Captain Planet? I did Do you think that Uggs are ugly? I love them Have you ever watched That ‘70’s show? meh Do you get along with your sibling’s friends? we don’t know each other Do you have a fashion icon? sorta, not really Do you think that iCarly is annoying? possibly

Have you ever had a really bad haircut? sadly

What are your favorite type of calendars? pocket? Could you spend hours on pinterest? just a couple of minutes Have you ever had to wear a school uniform? I liked that Who were your best friends in high school? K.K. E.E. E.W. Ż.B.

Would you rather sleep on the top bunk or bottom bunk? bottom Have you ever had a secret admirer that left you notes? I got a note in elementary, it’s a mystery to this day, I thought that it’s a response from M.N. after I left him one myself but it seemed to be a prank done by girls who’ve been bullying me so I threw that piece of paper angrily at him like it was his fault - I still kinda remember what was written on it, they called me a flower and left a tiny drawing - later, forgot how, I found that note again and I believe I might still have it stored somewhere What was your favorite thing to do at sleepovers when you were younger? as a kid I had 1 sleepover (same school in which the note situation happened) my friend P.W. had puppies and I was allowed to stay for the night in her house Do you currently live in the city you grew up in? mhm What’s one way in which you’re behind the times? ex. getting a job What’s one way in which you’re still a child? ex. collecting stuffed animals, lots What’s one way in which you’re old? ex. health issues Do you feel old or young? Or do you feel both at different times? both at different times What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? money? Do you usually forgive when someone hurts your or try to get revenge? neither, I hold grudge and don’t trust the person again, at least for a long time Were there any subjects in school that were really easy for you? in primary most of them were, in middle school: polish, biology, chemistry and math and in high: russian, english, PE and physics (but I probably shouldn’t count it as we had it for a few months) Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? - What time of day were you born? half past midnight, my mother asked me why I’m so lazy as for someone who was born on Saturday and I responded with - I was sleeping in and was late for Friday What is the best hairstyle you’ve ever had? can’t choose Do you think you look better with dyed hair or natural hair? I’m used to my color but I wouldn’t mind dyed hair Do you ever listen to Celtic music? me and John had a phase on that back in the day, I wish I remind the titles... Have you ever wanted to be a model, actress, singer, or dancer? actress When you look at your baby pictures, do you recognize yourself? pfft Has your hair color changed since you were a toddler? got darker, less red Do you wear matching socks? always but recently I thought about changing that fact Do you have a seashell collection? Do you have a rock collection? small Flamingos or pineapples? both Cacti or seashells? same but it’s harder to take care of cacti than shells haha Maple tree or palm tree? palm, ppl say maple looks like weed - I don’t think this way but that’s annoying, still I’d prefer maple trees irl! Dreamcatcher or wind chimes? wind chimes but not every kind Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? <3

Are you a pyromaniac? Bu is :P Are you a kleptomaniac? wtf Do you like to wear belts? it’s uncomfy and not good for my belly Would you ever get dreadlocks? I could but I won’t Do you listen to Eminem? no way

Does your sibling have a significant other? my sister is married

When and why is the last time you cried (or at least, shed tears)? yesterday?

Have you ever cried at a real wedding? not that I been to many but no

What do your flipflops look like? don’t own any

Are there any gadgets of yours that need charging right now? my cellphone is charging

Which awards show would you wanna go to the most (e.g Oscars, Grammys etc.)? I wanna go to MET gala, nothing else

Any idea what time you’ll be going to bed tonight? late

Does your significant other like the same colour as you do? she hates my fav colors besides black

Have you ever purchased anything online? obvi

Name all your friends whose name starts with the 4th letter of your first name. ...

Have you ever ridden an elephant? I’d like to (and camel and an ostrich and a horse)

Are you the candle lighting type? am not

Coffee in the morning, yay or nay? nay

Anal sex, yay or nay? hell no

Blue lipstick, yay or nay? okay, whatever

Is this question lame: “Have you had sex?” yep

Have you ever dated someone with really crooked teeth? mine are crooked

Would you rather vacation on the beach, or in the mountains? beach What embarrassing music do you listen to? too embarassed to write down? What’s your biggest talent? talented? me? r u kidding?

If you were a candy bar, what would you be? Milky Way? Would you rather ride in a hot air balloon or hang-glide? air balloon What’s one word you want people to use to describe you? truth is most important, everything else is less

Did you often read for fun when you were a kid? tons of books

Are you more of a visual learner or an auditory learner? I learn best with my hands (kinesthetic) but visual is probably easier than auditory to me

Do you have any dietary restrictions? ugh...

Do you prefer Google Maps, Apple Maps, Waze, or something else? I get lost no matter what

How old does someone have to be for you to see them as an adult? about my age or older

Do you ever ‘manspread’ when you sit down? sorry but I don’t sit like a lady - I sit like a lesbian unless there’s no space for that

When was the last time you were in a crowded place, and where was it? bus this day

Have you ever turned down a job offer? had to

What was the last medical appointment you scheduled? scheduled plenty at once

Have you ever had a dream in which you died? I die often, it’s a common element in my dreams, I’m fine with it by now

Have you ever fallen asleep on public transport? oh well... majority of those times I was able to but once it was an accident and I missed my stop while going to school

Can you touch your toes without bending your knees? almost Have you seen all the Hunger Games films? yasss Why did you last go see a doctor? control visit about my IBS, GERD, food intolerances... Are you more logical or creative? depends

What do you currently hear? parents talking, music - iamamiwhoami; shadowshow

Did you get enough sleep last night? I slept a little over 3 hours and I feel tired Are the streetlights on? it’s not dark yet When you wear a hoodie, do you pull the sleeves over your hands? when it’s warm for that or they bother me in what I’m doing Are you in any advanced classes at school? w moim profilu miałam rozszerzone historię i WOK (wiedza o kulturze) Did you have a good day today? it wasn’t the worst (compared) and hope it won’t turn into complete shit

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clapclaphoney · 5 years ago

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Heat

Reblogging yet another little something because I can’t write at the moment for whatever reason keeps me from it, but I figured since its sin week, I at least try and make it look like I wrote something XD

Aren't I a busy bee. lol

We barely make it through the door before we are all over us. Pushing, pulling, sucking at each other as if we were to die the second we let go.

I am slammed to the wall next to the entrance. Both of my hands are up in Rayan’s hair messing it up, waving and combing it through my fingers, while my back is pushed into the cold concrete wall. It almost hurts but all I care right now is the man that I am madly in love with is kissing me, is pulling me, is devouring me.

The way he growls low, against my lips, vibrates and reverberates, makes the heat that pounds low in my core grow infinite. I passionately grip his hair tighter, moan against his lips as his hands squeeze my butt hungrily. I myself pull him harder against me. I can feel how much exactly he wants me, his hard manhood, still locked up in his pants, is begging to be freed and I am in no position to deny him his freedom.

I moan again as his leg presses mine apart, while I feverishly try to get rid of his jacket. With his help, the blazer finds quickly its place on the floor, followed by the matching west. Our breath gets fitful as we finally have our hands on each other again. His hands are everywhere. He roams under my large wool sweater, squeezing my breast, my ass, the skin of my hip.

I have to get rid of my knitted top. Now! Immediately! Rayan seems to think the same as he grabs the hem of it and drags it over my head.

My lips miss him the moment we part and appear to rejoice when we find each other again. I jump on him, wrap my legs around him tightly, as he simultaneously lifts me up.

I might go insane after all. His hard dick presses mercilessly against my throbbing center, and I can tell without even touching that I am soaking wet. I can’t help but roll my hips at this sensation which grants me a hoarse moan from him.

I am put down on a table or a bench. I don’t know, I don’t care.

All my thoughts are about, sex, sex, and sex! I get goosebumps as I greedily dig my fingernails into the fabric of his pants, pulling him even closer. I need friction! And I get it. His rocking almost causes me to pass out.

His hand dances over the lace of my bra, while the other in the back opens effortlessly the hook. With one swift move, my bra is on the floor. He leans closer kissing and licking a trail from my mouth down to my right breast, while the other one is teased and twisted with one of his big hands.

I throw my head backward. I can more feel than see the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth, as he brushes with the other hand over my thigh, higher and higher until he almost reaches my core. But there he stops, drawing lazy circles into the fabric of my leggings, right before the goal.

I growl unhappily while I open my legs a bit wider and push my hips forward. But he just rests his hand where it is, frustrating close to my hot center. I look up again. His eyes fixed on me, a carnivore smile on his lips.

I bite my bottom lip, I swear to god this man takes my sanity. He is so sexy, if he would just touch me there I would come for sure. But for the looks of it, he seems to enjoy seeing me being tortured like that, but two can play this game.

I start to unbutton his shirt, slowly. One single finger trailing lazily from his collarbone over his breast, down his muscular stomach. The few dark hairs that are growing hidden from his pants up to his bellybutton make him even sexier. How can a single person combine divine looks and brains like him?

I bite down my bottom lip again, as my finger hooks in one of the belt loops in front. I pull him closer again. Kiss him ardently while my fingers expertly open his belt, the button and the zipper of his pants. I feel him sigh as I pull them down with one jerk.

His manhood unfolds, nearly free, just the very tip peeking out of his underwear in anticipation. He shivers noticeably against me as one of my fingernails trails down the hem of his boxer shorts.

He leans in, his head on my shoulder as I get into the light fabric, dancing with my fingers up and down his hip and thigh. Careful not to touch his member. He moans while biting into the soft flesh of my shoulder. “You’re…Ahhh..such a tease!” I laugh knowingly. He’s one to talk.

Stepping out of the mountain that formed to his feet he pulls me off the surface and carries me away. My legs are once again tightly wrapped around his hips, my arms wrapped around his neck.

I am laid down into a sea of gray silk, soft and inviting. Rayan is hovering over me, kissing me passionately while my legs press him harder against me. I need this so bad. The feeling of me wanting sex, tenfolds the one I had a few minutes ago. I can’t wait any longer.

I pant between our hot kisses, as he finally grabs the elastic hem of my leggings and pulls it down, getting off the bed while doing so. The leggings fly in a high bow down to the floor, a fate that they share with all the other garments.

My eyes observe him as he walks around the bed to the other side, opens the drawer of his commode and takes out a small package. He throws the content to the pillows and takes off his unbuttoned shirt and the underwear.

I can help but smile by the way his eyes roam over my body, his eyes clearly shadowed with desire. I guess mine exhibit the same desire as I sit up and meet him halfway on my knees. I finally have full excess to his upper body. I kiss my way down his stomach but get pushed back into the sheets.

His fingers trail slowly between my legs and rub lazily over my panties, as we kiss feverishly.

He’s teasing me again. I want him so much that I can’t even form a coherent sentence. “Rah..yan!” He chuckles lowly at my panting, bitting my nipple. “Say that again!” “Ahh…Rah-yan.” He growls, his chest vibrates with the deep sound.

Every inch of bare skin he touches is on fire. My thighs shake as he lastly rips off my panties and slides one finger down my fold. I gasp and arch my back as his finger pumps inside of me.

He bites my throat and groans as I reach for his thick length, entering another finger. I am so close, so close, that I clench his member hard, which only leads him to pump in and out of me more furiously.

“Ahhh… RayaHHn I’m comAhh!” My eyes flutter shut while the heat assembles in my core. I can feel every muscle in my upper body tensing with incredible speed as my hips instinctively buck up at the sensation.

I stroke his thick length up and down. His member the only thing that keeps me from losing myself completely. His lips are hot on mine as our tongues dance again, uncontrolled and wild.

My muffled moans melt with his as I totally come apart underneath him. The waves of my lust wash over me while we feverishly kiss, again and again.

Our breaths are stagger as we finally pull apart. I am sweaty, breathless and so, so desperate for a next round. All I want to is to feel him inside of me, ripping me apart, entirely.

I open my eyes and fall all over for him again, his possessive smile and the hot burning desire in his bright eyes makes me want to have him even more.

“You have no idea how long I wanted this..” He whispers huskily nibbling at my bottom lip. “You have no idea how fucking alluring you are!” I wrap my arms around his neck and spin us around, toping him with my knees on either side of him.

I take a condom out of the package and put it in my mouth, sliding slowly down his legs to get better excess to his dick. Man, he is impressive, now that I have a better look. I take it in one hand and glide slowly from top to bottom, my fist tightly around him, all while I look him seductively in the eyes. My mouth glides over his thickness, wrapping him in the condom expertly.

I come up again, temptingly biting my bottom lip, “No I don’t. But you can show me.” He growls full of raw lust and spins us around again.

#reblog #fanfic #MCL #mclul #mcl sin week #sin week #rayan #my candy love #sweet crush #sweet amoris #amor doce #amour sucre

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