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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

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Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed!

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face. The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @ssacalumsg0lden @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17 @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13

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If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

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somerpmemes · 4 years ago

Text

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

#the owl house #starters #rp starters #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #rp #rp meme #ask meme #long post

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thenextchapter22 · 3 years ago

Text

Mail Order... Kitten Girl

Part 8: Aw Rats

Description: Satan accidentally orders a special type of ‘cat’ online after having a few too many drinks…

Tags: Pet Play, Cat Hybrids, Fluff, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Tail Fucking

Pairing(s): Reader/Everyone (but Luke)

Link to my AO3: Click Here

In this chapter: Kitten and Barbatos spend time together!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Authors Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BARBATOS!! This one is for you :))

+++++ MINORS DNI +++++

It was an early morning on a weekday. You woke up slowly, snuggling into the demon body beside you in bed. Sleeping in Belphie’s room was always your top favorite spots to get a great nights sleep. Surrounded in his bed with all his blankets and pillows he stacked up plus his warm arms around you, that was the best.

You were shaken out of the slumber by Beel shaking his twin’s arm, saying, “Belphie, Kitten, get up and eat.”

Belphie groaned, squeezing your body to him, nuzzling the back of your neck with his heated breath caressing you. “Mmmm... ‘s early, Beel. Later...”

The temptation to stay was strong, but your stomach gurgled and you decided to get up.

Wiggling in Belphie’s strong hold until you faced him instead of the wall, he opened one eye just enough to stare at you questionably. “Cuddle me later?” you said through a yawn.

Your youngest demon Master sighed, but gave you one final squeeze around your waist, lingering just above your bottom with his fingers, and kissed you gently. “Fine... Go on,” he said, and opened his arms to free you.

Beel helped you climb over him. As soon as you were out of the bed, Belphie went right back to sleep.

With a smiling sigh, Beel shook his head. “C’mon, Kitten. I’ve made one of your favorites for breakfast so let’s get you dressed.”

You picked at the thin silk short set you had worn to bed. Sleeping with any of them, you liked to wear little to almost nothing. Firstly, because a lot of them ran hot, and secondly so that you could feel their bodies closer to you. That extra touch made your body feel good.

You sat on Beel’s bed, waiting for him to pick out an outfit for you. Almost all of your Master’s liked to dress you. And because you usually stayed in one of their rooms, sometimes a different demon each night so it was fair—they liked to fight a lot about that—they had clothes ready for the next day.

The redheaded demon chose a soft pair of leggings and a short-sleeved scoop neck shirt, also soft, probably fleece . You smiled at the plain underwear he helped you slip on. Asmo , Lucifer, and Satan all liked to give you lace undies and bras, but the others preferred comfort for you. Either way you didn’t mind, they were your owners after all and you liked them dressing you up. The fun of it was seeing the different styles.

After you were clothed, Beel took your hand and smiled. “Let’s go eat.”

You smiled right back and nodded, “Mmhm! ‘m hungry, Master.”

“Me too. I haven't eaten in minutes.”

Giggling, the both of you left Belphie to the room and went to eat.

Breakfast for you was perfect. Waffles soaked in syrup, piled high with berries and whipped cream. Sausages and eggs, too. The table was full, aside from Belphie. Your Masters all ate their weird demon foods. The day was looking to be a great one!

Once your belly was full, that was when your morning turned from sweet to just plain sour.

The worst news was given to you, and in anger you lashed out.

Which was why now, you sat dejectedly on the couch, arms crossed and tail swishing across your lap, the tip fuzzed out. You poked at your collar that was almost forced on you, a black leather collar that wasn’t uncomfortable but not your favorite, thick and ugly. A long leash was attached to it, and on the other end was Lucifer holding it. Usually you liked the leash, but not when it was a punishment.

Everyone was in the common room now, even Belphie who had gotten up after hearing the news. They either stood around you or sat on the furniture, but they all were looking at you with small smiles or smirks.

You were not amused. If you were an actual cat, your fur would be stuck up like the tip of your tail was.

The bad news that caused this problem... your Masters were leaving for the whole day to a RAD Student Council member only meeting that Lord Diavolo was holding.

You hated being alone. But because Barbatos was staying behind to make a feast for when they came back, he had volunteered to watch you.

When Lucifer went on and explained he was going to take you to Lord Diavolo’s castle for the hand off of yourself to the demon butler, you obviously did not want to go or for them to go and as such you had clawed at him, and thus the leash.

You didn’t draw blood, Lucifer was too fast for that, but the reaction was enough to be punished.

Huffing in your seat, you refused to not look angry. They were leaving you... again!

Lucifer sighed, and patted the top of your head a few times. “Bad kitty’s get punished, my dear,” he said matter of fact.

Your nose twitched. “I know...”

“You promise to behave for Barbatos?” Satan asked.

You nodded. “Yes, Master...”

“Don’t look so upset, it will only be for a few hours...”

“Why can’t I just be at home alone?” you asked, glancing at them all with wide eyes.

Asmo cooed. “Last time Simeon took too long, kitty cat, and you were upset with us. We’re just looking after you.”

You pouted.

Beel smiled. “Barbatos is excited to see you. And he said he wants you to taste test some of his bakes today. I’m jealous.” He drooled.

Your ears perked up. “R-really?” You licked your lips. Barbatos was the best baker you knew. His cakes and pies and basically everything he made was yummy.

“Kitten looks happy now!” Mammon said with a grin.

Satan agreed, “She looks like the cat who got the cream.”

Asmo giggled. “She probably will, too, and I mean to say Barbatos’~”

The others groaned or chuckled. You didn’t know what that meant, but you did love cream.

“We’re having a big feast later at Lord Diavolo’s castle, so be sure not to eat too much,” Lucifer said, and then announced it was time to go.

You stood as Lucifer started for the front door, the leash taught. Your Masters all said their respective goodbyes and ‘I love you’s’ and it made you very happy inside. You would miss them so much.

Maybe it was better to not be alone, so you wouldn’t be so sad and think about them until they came home.

Turning on your heel before the front door, you smiled. “I love you, too, my Masters.” And you meant that, truly.

They all cooed, or grinned, and you waved goodbye.

It was only for the day, right?

_+_

The walk to Lord Diavolo’s wasn't too long. Barbatos let you inside the main entrance where you waited to be handed off like a true pet.

“Welcome, Lucifer, Kitten. We are going to have a good time together today, hm?” the demon butler smiled at you kindly.

You peeked at him from behind Lucifer and nodded once. Still, something inside of you was a little peeved.

“I trust you will be good?” Lucifer asked you, a stern look in his red eyes.

“Yes, Master, I'll be good,” you said.

Lucifer handed the leash to Barbatos, who took it without a single question. You wondered if Lucifer told him what happened and why you had the leash at all.

“She will be well looked after, Lucifer.”

Lucifer nodded. He gave you a single kiss on your forehead. “Behave, Kitten,” he said, and then he was gone out the door. You watched as he transformed into his demon form and flew off, majestic and sexy. You did love his wings; they were so soft.

“Kitten? Let’s go.” Barbatos smiled at you again, and gestured with his hand for you to go ahead and step further in the Castle.

You frowned, but did, and you found yourself in the kitchen after a little bit of walking.

The room was a far cry from the House of Lamentation’s kitchen. First it was much larger, higher ceilings, and had several ovens and even more cooking equipment. There were tons of cabinets and a large black table off to the side. The floors were nicer on your shoes, less chance of tripping on wood floors than badly lain cement blocks.

While you glanced around, you felt a tug on your leash and a click, and Barbatos was hanging your leash on a hook on the wall before you knew what happened.

“Wha-?”

“It will be easier for the both of us. I won’t say anything if you won’t?”

You giggled. The collar was still on, but that was fine by you. “Okay!”

“Perfect. Over this way please.” He led you to a counter, and there was a ton of ingredients out. They smelled sweet, salty, bitter. Some of them looked good, others odd colored or shaped, but still had a good aroma. “Today you can help me prepare the meal for their return.”

Your ears fell. “I can’t cook...”

"That's not a problem. You have two hands, and so you can mix. And taste test for me as well.”

Now that you could do with great pleasure. “Yes, I want to help!”

He chuckled. “I assumed so. We are only preparing desserts now; I will finish the rest of the meal later so it's fresh. Let’s begin, shall we?”

Baking with Barbatos was fun. You got to eat so many tasty things. He let you lick the spoon with the frosting, and gave you little chocolate chips. Mixing dry ingredients for him was harder than it looked and you got some flour on yourself, but that was why you had the apron on.

Although, it was strange that he already had the perfect one for you. It certainly was not for one of the demon brothers or Diavolo (right?).

After cooking for a long time, eating and mixing and opening and closing the ovens, setting all the pretty treats under domes on counters or in the fridge, you were totally exhausted. All the hard work and eating had really wore you out.

You yawned a few times, and rubbed at your eyes.

“Is it time for a cat nap?” he teased.

“Barb, I’m tired.” You yawned again.

He softly laughed. “All right. Come with me, Kitten.” He put the palm of his hand on your lower back to lead you out of the kitchen. You were taken around a few doors and small hallways to a wide window with a bed seat cushion, and it faced a garden full of flowers and wildlife.

“So pretty...” you were in awe.

“I thought you might like the view. Rest for a while and I will wake you up once you’ve gotten the proper sleep.”

You curled up on the warm bedding and purred. The sun was shining in the spot, and you could fit yourself perfectly in a ball. “Thank you~”

Barbatos smiled down at you, and pet your head, his hand lingering on your neck to squeeze once. It gave you the shivers. “You’re very welcome, Kitten. Sweet dreams.”

You fell asleep watching the birds flutter around and chirp.

When you woke up it was still sunny, but not directly on you. And you watched the garden for a while, and then you saw it.

A rat, scurrying across the field.

You made a sound and bared your teeth at it.

The window had a latch, and you undid it and crawled out to step into the garden. You were quiet, stealthy, your prey was right there. You caught it in your claws and squeezed until it was dead.

This was the perfect present to say thank you!

Barbatos had not come for you yet, so you set the dead rat on the floor of the room, waiting for Barbatos to come fetch you.

And when he came inside, he froze up, and stared at your gift. “Kitten.”

“Barb~ I got you a gift, it’s right there.” Your tail flickered in happiness, and you grinned a fanged smile at him, proud and excited.

He tensed as he walked around it, but did not pick it up. “Did you touch that thing?” he asked instead.

“Yes, with my claws. I killed it for you!”

“I see...” He held out his arms, and frowned. “Let’s go wash your hands,” he said.

You pouted. “Are you not going to take my present?”

Barbatos’ brows furrowed. “Kitten, I appreciate the gift, however...”

Now you understood, and your eyes watered. “Y-you hate it, don’t you?”

“Not at all, kitty, not at all. I just want to take care of you first.” He grabbed you under your arms and you were taken back to the kitchen, legs wrapped around his waist. You felt like a toddler but the warmth of his body was nice. “You need to clean up before you touch anything else.”

He directed you to stand before the sink and place your hands inside. The water was hot on your hands and you cried out. He apologized, and quickly turned it down, and then poured soap on your hands, helping wash them, getting between your fingers and under your claws.

“Rats carry diseases, and Devildom rats even more. I want you to be more careful.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Barbatos gave you a soft smile. “It’s fine. There now, let’s dry them and then we can get back to baking together.”

You dried your hands and frowned down at the tiles. “I just wanted to thank you...”

He cupped your cheek and had you look at him. “I know, but you don’t need to thank me with that,” he said, not unkindly.

Oh, so that’s what he was getting at. Well, your Master’s did not say you couldn’t please Barbatos, and he did take care of you. This was the only other way you knew how to say you were grateful for him feeding you delicious snacks and letting you sleep in the cozy sun spot.

“I can thank you like this,” you said, and knelt down on the floor right in front of him, your face at his crotch.

There was one quick inhaled from the demon butler. His gloved finger lifted your head up for him to stare down at you with his pretty green eyes. There was a slight hue on his cheeks. “You don’t have to thank me at all.”

You licked your lips. “I want to. Please? Can I see your cock and suck it?”

He began thumbing your bottom lip. “If that’s what you want, I wouldn’t say no.” Then he made a concerned face. “Do you want something for your knees?”

You nodded, glad Barbatos was such a kind demon. “Please...” and he somehow had a throw pillow in his hands, and you lifted one knee at a time to get situated. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Quickly you helped him out of his pants, slipping them to the floor. As you did his hand caressed the top of your head, and you felt his dark gaze on you, watching every move you made. As his pants dropped to the floor, he stepped out of them, kicking them away. The mess was so unlike the butler from what you had seen.

Now he was just in his underwear, a silk dark green pair that outlined his cock and balls. You nuzzled his clothed dick. “Smells good, Barby.”

“Mmm, you like the smell of cock, Kitten?”

You nodded. “Yesss-”

His hand went to your hair at the back of your head to lightly tug. The pain mixed with his scent urged you on, and you had his boxers pulled down, and he was quicker in stepping out of those. His cock out inches from your mouth, half hard. Before you sucked it, you grabbed it to stroke it to life. You licked the tip once, he gasped. Then you swallowed him down and peeked up at him with a certain look, unmoving. Waiting for him to do something.

He got the idea and smiled. “Do you want me to use your mouth?”

You hummed, hopeful he understood it meant yes. And he understood because he began using your mouth. Filling it with his slicked head, hitting your tongue and roof of your mouth. Your lips were swelling up, and you suckled and slurped at his cock.

Clawed hands went to his waist, holding him steady as his fingers clutched your hair to do the same. The pain and scent surrounding you had your pussy wetting up, soaking your undies. But this was for him, about Barbatos’ pleasure. And a Kitten could please their Master, or their Master’s friends, and you would do a good job of it, too.

Breathing through your nose, you kept a firm hold on his hips, and your tail helped by wrapping around his thigh once to squeeze. His legs were bare, strong looking. You looked up at him, and met his dark eyes, flecks of black creeping in to those slate green iris’. It was sexy and you moaned.

“Ahh, Kitten,” he moaned. His hand not at your hair went to touch your tail, wrapped around a part of it and stroked like you had done to his dick. “Such a soft tail."

You moaned louder, vibrating around his cock, tonguing the underside with your flattened muscle, flexing. He tasted tangy and filled your mouth perfectly, and a little precum trickled onto your taste buds.

The demon butler tensed and grunted out a warning before he came in your mouth, and only then did you let him go. You held his spent cum in your mouth on your tongue, and showed it to him before swallowing. It was bitter, but you had worse.

“Such a naughty thing,” he commented, and pet your hair from your cheeks.

He smiled, and in his eyes was something new you hadn’t seen. He put his clothes back to right, and before you could react, he had you in his arms and then deposited you on the long kitchen table. The throw pillow was shoved under your body to lift you up at your lower half, and it helped keep your tail from being squished. But you were confused.

“Barb-”

“Hush now.” He stood at your feet, a demonic grin truly. “I shall return the favor,” he whispered. Barbatos’ appearance shifted, and he was in his demon form, his twin-tipped tails flickering behind him, his bat-like horns gleaming in the kitchen light.

His hands torn down your pants to your ankles, and you let him, him taking off your shoes next to leave you in socks and your top. Then you were spread open, panties glistening, socked feet flat on the table. He had you bend your legs so he could grasp your knees to keep you like that, but your pants hugged at your ankles like restraints.

Those eyes of his were basically neon green they were glowing, and he stared at your clothed core, and you tightened in response. Could he see the flex of your pussy?

“You got wet from sucking me, hm... How delightful.” His finger went to your waist, tugging under the band, and it snapped apart. He tore your underwear from you and exposed your vagina to the air, the coolness hitting your burning heat, wetness growing.

“Ahh, B-barb-"

His tails were hovering your vagina, twitching, and you leaned your head down to watch. You couldn’t see much past your belly as he lifted you up, but you knew what his intentions were.

You begged for it, “please, inside...”

He did not hesitate. His tail slowly went inside your pussy, thick, slimy, softly scaled. It was bigger than you figured, and you tightened down and wiggled your hips.

He tore his glove off with his teeth, and his bare finger circled your clit, the sparks of pleasure helping the stretch. “It’s okay, you can take it. Be a good kitty.”

You clenched down on him again and he winced for a second, but then his tail slithered deeper and flicked at the tip to hit that spot inside and you saw stars, clutching the table at each end with clawed hands.

“You’re damaging the wood,” he said with a bit of humor, but did nothing to stop you. His finger circled your clit faster and harder, and you were close but still felt like it wasn’t enough.

That was when his second tail spread your cheeks apart to press to your anus, slimy from the wetness leaking from your pussy. You were not ready for that, not now.

You cried, “nnngg, not there, please.” Your own tail swooshed in the air, a nervous twitch, and a warning that you did not like that.

Barbatos kissed your inner thigh, holding your knee wider with one hand as his tail fucked you, sloppy sounds echoing in the room along with your heavy panting. “I know, beautiful thing, I won’t.” He left the tail tip there, slipping over your hole to join the other at your pussy, pressing against its twin. “You can take two, can you not?”

You tensed and sobbed. “P-please,” you desperately wanted to be torn open.

He grinned, sharp teeth, and shoved his second tail in along with the other. You arched your back and tossed your head to the side and sobbed, burning and intense pleasure/pain encompassing you. “Ahhhgg~”

The pace he set was fast and rough, the double tails slipping in and out and scrapping at the best parts of you, no time to adjust. “You’re so sweet, yet so naughty. I want to feel your pussy on my cock someday.”

“Uhh, yes, yes, want that-”

“Hm, I know you do.”

He was so himself like this. Barbatos was commanding and sure in his movements, and it was perfection. His head went between your legs and his mouth found your clit and licked and kissed wet and sloppily. You wished you could watch as he did, but your position only let you see his head bobbing, and his tail motioning in and out between your thighs.

He kept his mouth on your clit, swishing his tongue back and forth. “Purr for me, kitty,” he pulled back to say, and then with insane speed he fucked you with his serpent tails and licked you, like a vibrator toy for your clit.

The heat was reaching your belly in a boiling point now. Your body was hot, tense, and your toes curled, and then with an arched back, your belly tightened up and you were finished. “Cumming, Barb, cummiinnnnggg~” you exclaimed, spurting all over.

It lasted a few moments, but felt like longer. You kept your eyes shut and felt the excess amount of your own juices dripping out. The sparks went with the beat of your heart as you calmed down, almost like an exposed wire feeling every single thing. Your shirt was sweaty. Your throat sore, from both screaming your pleasure and holding some back. There was a little bit of tears drying on your cheeks.

When you did open your eyes, Barbatos was hovering over your head, smiling that gentle smile, this time it reached his kind eyes. “So pretty for me,” Barbatos murmured, kissing your cheek. “I need to clean you up now.”

You hummed, shutting your eyes as fireworks popped up in your vision. “Mmm, clean up,” you copied.

He chuckled, and lifted you up in his arms, and you whined but allowed it. “Come on kitty, you can have another nap after.”

You sighed. “Love naps.”

“I gathered that. You may be a second Belphegor and we just don’t know it.”

You giggled. “Mmmm.” What a silly thing to say.

_+_

“She looks exhausted,” Lucifer commented. He had a slight smirk in his eyes and on his lips, but not enough for the average person to see.

Barbatos shared a similar look. “Oh yes, we had an eventful evening, didn’t we?” You flushed red, ignoring the question, and he went on, holding out a few containers. “Here. To take home with you. The feast will begin in a few hours, but I know Beel will like to have some extras.” Barbatos handed you the boxes. “Thank you for all your help today, Kitten. Anytime you want to stop by, feel free.” The green of his eyes shone, mischievous.

You held in the whine, because you did want to visit again. But the teasing was too much and you were exhausted mentally and physically. You didn’t even want to be standing right then.

You looked at Lucifer and asked, “Master, can we go home now?”

“Yes, we can.” He took the leash from Barbatos and you both left Lord Diavolo’s castle for the House of Lamentation.

And if Lucifer noticed the limp in your walk, he said nothing on it.

Thankfully you were not in trouble. Your Masters, it seemed, did not care if you shared yourself. But you had to wonder the limitations of that... you’d ask another time.

So, you went home to rest before the feast, but in the end you did not go. You actually stayed behind with Levi who had plans to be online that night (Diavolo played video games, you heard, so he excused the Envy demon).

Snuggled up with him on the beanbag you lazily watched him play, occasionally getting soft pets between battles. It was boring to just watch, but you had enough excitement. This was a perfect way to end a sweet day.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #fanfiction #reader fanfiction #female reader #cat hybrid #hybrids #hybrid reader #shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me reader x barbatos #reader x barbatos #mail order kitten girl #my fics #ao3 link

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pazumane-archive · 3 years ago

Text

Closing Time - Asahi x Reader

Characters: Asahi Azumane, female reader, original female character, small Taichi cameo

Relationships: Asahi Azumane x Reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, SFW but 16+ please

Warnings: Alcohol, general drunken shenanigans, emetophobia (mentions of vomit), bad language

WC: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is a totally self-indulgent bedtime-scenario-type story because there is simply not enough Asahi/Reader content out there and I adore him. It’s also my first time writing in 2nd person, so PLEASE feel free to send me any feedback, please just be kind :) I really don’t like to use y/n, so I only used it a couple times towards the end when I wasn’t sure what else to do lol

The preview begins with the bolded text below and fic continues after the cut :)

Reblogs appreciated! <3

You weren’t planning on getting this drunk. But by the time it got to be about 11:30, you didn’t know what else to do. You had put so much effort and energy into making yourself look nice just for your date not to show up. Your roommate was out of town, so instead of going home and pouting, you figured you might as well have some fun while you were out. But you’ve never been good at exercising restraint, and the fact that you were alone wasn’t doing you any favors. But by closing time had rolled around, you could hardly see straight. You needed help, so you call upon an old friend.

“Do you have anybody you can call for a ride?” Kawanishi asks.

Kawanishi’s the bartender at this izakaya, and over the course of the night, you spent most of the time talking his ear off. He’s nice enough, and held pleasant conversation for the last few hours. He says he used to be a volleyball player, and had even played on the same team as a one of the guys on the Japan National Team. You forget to ask him which school he attended, but he probably was tired of talking to your drunk ass anyway, so you don’t bother asking. “Yeah,” you say, digging in your purse for your phone. “Are you sure? I can call a cab for you if you need it,” he offers. “Nah,” you say, hiccupping between words. “I’ll call somebody. Thank you though.” “No problem,” he says. “Just try to make it quick.” You scroll through your phone, trying to figure out who to call. Your roommate’s out of town visiting her parents, so she’s a no-go. You could call Kokomi. Honestly, she would deserve the 2AM phone call for setting you up on this failed blind date in the first place. Ever since you moved to Tokyo last month, she was constantly trying to set you up with somebody, whether it was a friend, a coworker, or some rando that she had met on the train. Unfortunately, all of them were jerks. And this one was the biggest jerk of all. You silently curse yourself for going along with her antics again.

“He’s great, you’ll love him!” “You said that about the last three guys you tried to set me up with, Kokomi.” “Please!! You’ll never know if you don’t even give him a chance.”

Well, you gave him a chance. And it ended up with you all alone, drunk as hell in an unfamiliar part of the city. You dial Kokomi’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Bitch,” you mutter. You unlock your phone again and look through to find somebody that might be able to take you home. You scroll back to the top of your contact list, and your eyes settle on another name. He lives just a few blocks away, and knowing him, he’s probably awake working on something anyway. You click on his contact and wait for him to answer.

The exhaustion’s starting to get to him. It’s the weekend and he can afford to stay up an extra couple of hours to finish this design, but the combination of fatigue and frustration are taking over. He sets down his pencil and moves towards his bed, until his cell starts to buzz. He glances over at the clock on the wall. 1:49 AM.

Who could possibly be calling at this hour?

Asahi picks up his phone, surprised to see your name on the screen. His heart skips a beat in his chest, both from excitement and nervousness. Aside from his teammates, you’re one of the only people he bothered to keep in contact with after high school. The two of you had even met up a few times since you moved to the city, but he never would have expected you to call at this hour unless… unless something is wrong. “Hey you, what’s up?” He says, choking back a yawn. “Hiiiii Asahiiii! I tried to call Kokomi but she didn’t answer her phone… could you come pick me up?” Your voice is thick and your words are almost unintelligible as you speak. It’s obvious that you’re far from sober. “Where are you?” Asahi asks, failing to mask the anxiety in his voice. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” “M’fine,” you slur. “But I…” Suddenly the call drops. Asahi calls you back in a panic, his heart racing as he waited for you to answer. You could be in danger and he’d be powerless to help you. He doesn’t even know where you are. “Hello?” A man’s voice comes through the speaker. “Who are you? Where is she?” Asahi asks frantically. “Relax, man. I’m just the bartender,” he says. “Look, your friend’s next to me, but she’s on the verge of passing out. Can you come get her before she pukes all over my bar? She’s at Zoetrope. You know where that is?” “Of course, I’m on my way now! I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Asahi says, grabbing his apartment keys and putting on a pair of shoes. He’s out the door almost immediately.

Kawanishi presses your phone back into your hands. Your head is spinning so fast that you struggle to keep your eyes open. “Is he coming?” you ask. “Yeah, he’s on the way,” Kawanishi says. “He’ll be here soon. Now do me a favor, don’t get this drunk the next time you come into my izakaya or I’ll have to kick you out.” “You’re kicking me out???” “Only if you start throwing up,” he says under his breath. “I’m not going to throw up!” you exclaim, suddenly becoming very aware of the churning in your stomach. You grumble, slumping over the bar. You squeeze your eyes shut, the spinning in your head only getting worse with every breath you take. You feel like you’re going to die, and honestly, between the embarrassment of being stood up and the wave of nausea coming over you, you’re ready to welcome that death with open arms. “Hey!” Kawanishi says, smacking the bar next to your head. “Your friend’s going to be here soon, don’t fall asleep or I’ll throw you out on the street myself.” “I’m sorry, Kawanishi-san.” You sit up slowly and cradle your head in your hands once more, trying to make the world stop spinning.

Please get here soon, Asahi.

Asahi sprints down the street as fast as he can towards the izakaya. He’s sure that he looks suspicious running down the street alone at night, but he doesn’t care. You’re in trouble, and he’s the only person that can help you. He finally makes it to the bar and hastily pulls the door open. You’re dressed beautifully, and your makeup and hair are exquisitely done. Unfortunately, the way you’re slumped over the bar makes it obvious that something’s wrong. He’s not sure what happened, but whatever it was, it must have been rough. The bartender gently helps you out of your seat, and Asahi can’t help but think that he looks very familiar. You straighten up and as soon as you make eye contact with Asahi, you perk up. “Asahi-san!” you exclaim, rushing towards him and almost falling over. You crush him in an unexpectedly tight hug. “Long time no see, big guy!” “I saw you three days ago,” he says under his breath. You continue babbling unintelligibly, and Asahi looks up at the bartender. “Did she close out her tab?” Asahi asks. “I took care of it already,” the bartender replies. “Please just make sure she gets home okay. She’s had a rough night.” “Yeah, of course,” Asahi says. “Thanks for helping her out.” ��No problem.” Asahi peels your arms off him and starts to nudge you towards the door. Just before the two of you leave, Asahi stops and turns back to the bartender. “Have we met before?” he asks. “I played for Shiratorizawa. Didn’t think I’d see you again, Karasuno Samurai.” Asahi frowns slightly. He hasn’t heard that nickname high school, and it’s weird hearing it again now. “Right,” he says. “Well, thanks again. Have a good night.” Asahi leads you out of the bar and down the sidewalk. You hold tightly to his arm, stumbling over yourself. He braces you against his side, and you take this opportunity to tease him a little bit. “Do you like my outfit, Asahi-san?” you ask, pressing into his side. “Yeah, it’s really nice!” he answers nervously, turning his head to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He’s not lying – you look beautiful, both your top and your skirt accentuating your curves in all the right places. But it would be wrong to say anything more than that while you’re in this state. That wouldn’t be fair to either of you. He brusquely clears his throat and keeps walking as soon as the light signals that you can cross. “I dressed up extra nice tonight, but it didn’t even fucking matter,” you grumble, your voice breaking slightly. Asahi either doesn’t hear you, or does hear you and decides not to say anything. “I’m soooo glad you’re here,” you say, drawing out your words even longer than you were a minute ago. “I’m sorry, this is super embarrassing! I should’ve figured this out on my own.” “It’s okay,” Asahi says. “How long have you been in Tokyo again?” “A month? I think?” “Exactly,” he says. “You probably don’t know your way around that much. I’d feel terrible if I wasn’t able to help you find your way home.” “Meh,” you say. “I’ve had the worst night of my fucking life, so maybe it would be better if I passed out in a ditch somewhere.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Asahi asks. “No,” you answer quickly. “Okay.” You start blathering again and Asahi has to practically drag you down the street behind him. The station just past his apartment has a train that can drop you right by your building. He can just take a cab back after he gets you home. He considers inviting you stay the night at his place since it’s right there, but he’s afraid of being weird, so he doesn’t say anything. The two of you come to a stop at the train station… which is closed. “I’m sorry,” Asahi says remorsefully. “I guess the train stopped running at midnight. I’ll call you a cab.” He goes to pull his phone out of his pocket, but you grab his hand before he can. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” you ask sheepishly. “I… my roommate is out of town. And I’m really not doing good right now. I just really don’t want to be alone.” Despite how out of it you’ve been since he picked you up, Asahi sees nothing but complete sincerity in your eyes. Tonight must have been really rough. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’ll just sleep on the couch- or a futon if you have one!” you say, nodding. “Okay.” Asahi turns back towards his apartment and you follow closely behind him, not letting go of his hand the entire time.

Asahi helps you across the threshold of his apartment and sits you down on a chair by the door. “Asahi-san, you’re so handsome with your hair down like that,” you say, reaching up to twirl a finger in his long chestnut tresses. “And you’re loopy,” Asahi mutters, disentangling your fingers from his hair. Once again, he finds himself hiding a blush. He’s not used to being showered with compliments, and he knows you wouldn’t be saying this stuff if you were sober. He kicks off his shoes and kneels down in front of you, helping you take yours off. “How are you feeling?” he asks you. “Can I get you some water or a some–” “Why didn’t you ask me out when we were in high school?” you ask suddenly. “I think I made it pretty obvious that I had a crush on you. It’s all I could think about when you were holding my hand back there.” “I – I, uh,” Asahi stammers. You burst out laughing, startling Asahi. It’s that same boisterous laugh you’ve had for as long as he could remember knowing you. You were always self-conscious about it in high school, but your laugh has always been one of Asahi’s favorite things about you. Despite the fact that it’s at his expense, he’s glad to see your mood improve. Asahi considers your question for a moment. He really liked you too back then, and everyone knew it. Suga and Daichi constantly teased him for it.

So why hadn’t he asked you out back then?

Well, for a number of reasons. He spent so much of his third year focused on volleyball that he didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for much else. He hadn’t even planned on going back to school after graduation until Nishinoya helped convince him to pursue his passions. He felt directionless, and he didn’t want to burden anybody else with his indecision. But most importantly, he was scared you’d reject him. Suga was right. He really was a coward. He’d dated a few people since high school graduation, but none of them made him feel the way you did, and they didn’t treat him as well as you would have. Which begs the question – why hasn’t he asked you out since you moved to Tokyo? He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. This isn’t the kind of conversation to be having when you aren’t even able to form a coherent sentence. Asahi’s thoughts are interrupted by your hand on his shoulder and a loud hiccup. “I should wash my face. Can I wash my face?” “Sure,” Asahi says, helping you stand up. You stumble forward, but he catches you easily and pulls you back to your feet. He quietly leads you to the bathroom and sits you down on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m a mess.” “No, you’re not. Hold on a second,” he says, opening the drawer under the sink. He pulls out a small package of makeup wipes and takes one out. He kneels in front of you and begins wiping the makeup off your face. “I know they’re not great for your skin,” he says. “But it’s better than nothing, right?” “Why do you even have those?” you ask between hiccups. “Do you wear makeup? I mean, it’s obviously fine if you do, but it doesn’t really seem like your thing.” “I don’t, but you never know when they’ll come in handy! I do work with a lot of makeup artists,” he says, somewhat defensively. You get the sense that he’s lying about something, but Asahi changes the subject before you can probe him any further. “So what were you doing there by yourself?” he asks. “It’s not safe to be alone so late at night.” Clearly this was the wrong thing to ask. All the negative emotions and thoughts you were having all even spring to the forefront of your mind, and you start to cry. Asahi starts apologizing profusely, but you wave him off. “It’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Kokomi was trying to set me up with one of her friends, but he never showed up.” Asahi sits back on his heels. Kokomi is another girl from Karasuno that ended up in Tokyo. She wasn’t in the same class as him, but he remembers how loud she always was in the hallways. Honestly, both of you were always loud, but you’ve always been much more considerate of others than Kokomi ever was. “Shit,” he mumbles. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.” “Yeah. It does suck.” Asahi grabs another wipe and asks you to close your eyes. You do as he says, and he lightly wipes off your eye makeup. He’s worked with enough models to recognize that you’re wearing false eyelashes, so he gently pulls those off too. You feel yourself start to wobble on the edge of the tub, so you grip his arm to steady yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need to keep apologizing to me.” “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” you ask suddenly. “Wait, what?” “I just… this keeps happening to me. Everyone always says that it’s because they’re not the right person for me, but it’s starting to feel like there’s just something wrong with me instead,” you say, choking back a sob. “I know I just moved here, but I’m just so lonely. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough.” Asahi tenderly wipes a tear from your cheek and cups your face in both hands. “Hey, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you,” he says sincerely. “That guy is an idiot and a jerk. If he had any idea how extraordinary you are, he never would’ve done that to you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You don’t feel like you deserve to be spoken to like this – with such genuine kindness and sincerity. Asahi makes you feel so good. So special. He always has. And he’s just so… tender, especially for somebody who looks as intimidating as he does. You wonder if those feelings from high school ever truly went away. You sit up straighter and try to smile at him, but your stomach flips unexpectedly and violently. “Asahi-san?” you ask, gripping his shoulder tightly. “Yeah?” he replies. “Toilet.” Asahi moves out of the way as fast as possible. You hunch over the rim and retch into the toilet bowl. Asahi quickly scoops up your hair and holds it behind your head as you throw up. “Please, just leave me,” you mutter. “I’m gonna fucking die here.” “I’m not going to leave you here and you’re not going to die,” Asahi says, gingerly picking up the last loose strands laying on your neck and holding them back with the rest of your hair. Your back tenses up again before you begin heaving once more. Asahi tucks his nose into the collar of his shirt, careful to make sure that he’s out of your field of vision. He wants to be there for you but he had a weak stomach himself and the sight and smell of somebody else’s vomit is something he knows he won’t be able to handle. You mumble weak apologies between hacks, but Asahi just ignores them and rubs your back gently. After what feels like an eternity, the churning in your stomach finally stops and you reach up towards the flush handle. The exhaustion in your body and heart finally begin to catch up with you, and your hand falls back to your side. “I got it. Do you think you’re done?” Asahi asks, coaxing you back up into a seated position. You nod, too tired to try to speak. Asahi quickly tugs his shirt back down from his face before you can see and closes the toilet lid. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Don’t be,” Asahi says, flushing the toilet. “I’m your friend. I want to help you. And I’ve already told you that you don’t need to apologize to me.” Asahi helps you sit on the top of the toilet and rises to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere,” he says, scurrying out of the room. Although your eyes are closed, you still feel your body swaying. More than anything, you just want to go to sleep. Asahi pads back into the room and presses a wooden cup into your hands. “Drink this,” he says, turning on the faucet. Even though drinking something is the last thing you want to be doing right now, you go ahead and lift the cup to your open mouth. Cold water passes your lips and washes away some of the disgusting taste in your mouth. It feels gross, but you force yourself to drink all of it. Asahi takes the cup from your hand and turns the faucet back off. You flinch at the feeling of a damp washcloth on your face. “It’s okay,” Asahi says gently, cradling your chin with his free hand and angling your face up. “Just cleaning you up a little.” You murmur in acknowledgement and Asahi continues to wipe your face down. You almost fall asleep sitting on his toilet, but he gently shakes you to keep you awake. “Stay with me for another minute,” he says softly. “You can go to sleep soon. You’re gonna be just fine. I promise.” His words and his voice are so sweet that you want to cry. A couple rogue tears drip from your eyes and onto his hands. “I’m sorry,” you say once more. Asahi sets the washcloth on the counter and starts to pull you to your feet. You struggle to stay on your feet, so instead, he carefully scoops you into his arms and carries you out the bathroom. You don’t care where you go, you just need to sleep. Asahi’s pretty certain you’re asleep by the time he deposits you on his mattress. Your chest rises and falls slowly as he pulls his duvet over you. He begins to make his way to the couch, but stops when he feels you grab his hand. “Please don’t go, Asahi-san,” you whisper. “Please.” You tug harder at his fingers and he knows he can’t refuse you. He ends up sitting on the edge of the bed holding your hand until you fall asleep.

As soon as your quiet snores permeate the silence, Asahi untangles his fingers from yours. He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face and he can’t help but let his eyes linger on your sleeping face for just a moment. The moonlight trickling through the window illuminates your hair and casts a silvery glow on your skin. Despite the awful night you’ve had, you look absolutely radiant. He feels himself blushing again, but he takes some comfort in the fact that he doesn’t have to try and hide it this time. Not while you’re fast asleep in his bed. He’s far too scared to admit it, even to himself, but he’s fantasized about falling asleep next to you many times before. But in those fantasies you weren’t drunk and crying over another man. Asahi sighs, stands up, and moves over to the dresser as quietly as he can. After setting a few things out for you, he goes into the bathroom, gets ready for bed and heads to the couch for the night.

By the time you wake up in the morning, you feel like you’re going to die. You can’t remember what exactly happened the previous night. The last thing you remember clearly was talking to the bartender about high school volleyball, of all things. Your head’s pounding, and your stomach aches painfully, screaming at you to please eat something. You don’t open your eyes, fearing that it would somehow trigger another round of vomiting. Eventually, you force yourself into a seated position and open your eyes. The bedroom you’re in is small, but pretty well-decorated. It’s decently tidy. The only mess is a few crumpled up clothing designs discarded on the floor next to the trash bin.

Designs? Did that mean?

You’re at Asahi’s apartment. In his bed. Your eyes widen in panic.

What happened last night?

You’re still wearing the clothes that you wore to the bar last night. And there’s no evidence of him ever being in bed with you. You reach over towards your phone, which has been graciously plugged in for you and set on the bedside table. That’s when you notice the note along with a sleeve of crackers and a glass of ginger ale.

Good morning!

There’s a set of clothes you can wear at the foot of the bed and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Feel free to take a shower if you want. Extra towels are underneath the sink. Please have something to eat and drink too. You’ll feel better if you do.

-Asahi

P.S. Please don’t feel bad. It’s okay.

You grab a few of the crackers from the bedside table and eat them, washing them down with the ginger ale.

Why does Asahi have to be so damn considerate? The whole situation is so embarrassing.

You contemplate just grabbing your phone and getting the hell out of his apartment, but you’re not going to pass up the opportunity to shower. You finish the last of the crackers, chug down the ginger ale, and grab the spare clothes at the end of the bed. You turn the doorknob as silently as you can and awkwardly creep down the hall towards the bathroom, stopping briefly to peek in the living room. Asahi’s fast asleep on the couch, clad only in pajama pants and a pair of fuzzy socks. His hair is down and messily splayed across the throw pillow he’s resting his head on. Quiet snores pass his lips. He looks cute. Your eyes trail from his face and down to his stomach. Despite quitting volleyball after high school, he seems to have mostly maintained his athletic form, except for a tiny little layer of pudge on his lower stomach. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile, until that little voice in the back of your mind reminds you of your place.

Quit staring, you perv! You need to get out of here!

You hurriedly continue down the hallway and jump into the shower as soon as you get into the bathroom. You think that maybe if you clean up fast enough, you can get out of Asahi’s apartment before he wakes up. However, as soon as you step into the shower, all worries about rushing out disappear into the back of your mind. You bask in the hot water, the steam clearing your sinuses and relieving some of the pain in your head. You silently thank the gods that Asahi actually uses conditioner, and not just 3-in-1 like most of the other men you were previously…. acquainted with. Although, it makes sense to you that somebody with hair like Asahi’s would have a strict haircare routine. As you shower, fragmented memories of last night start to come back to you.

Being stood up at the bar. Calling Asahi for help. Puking your guts out in his bathroom. Him carrying you into his room and laying you down on his bed. Him staying by your side until you fell asleep. You wishing he would’ve crawled into bed with you and held you through the night… Wait, what was that last part?

As soon as you’re done rinsing the conditioner from your hair, you step out of the shower and swiftly towel off. You find the spare toothbrush Asahi mentioned, take it out of the packaging, and brush your teeth with his toothpaste. The dry, gross feeling in your mouth is quickly replaced with a minty fresh taste. You slip on the sweatpants and t-shirt that Asahi left for you and dry your hair. Thankfully, Asahi isn’t as huge as most people make him out to be, so while the clothes he left out are a bit big on you, you’re not drowning in them. You’ll just bring them back some other day. You start combing through your hair, and that’s when you hear it – the sound of somebody padding around in the apartment. Shit. Once the footsteps quiet down, you rush out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Asahi eyes you as you scoop up your shoes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Good morning!” he says kindly. “How are you feeling?” “I’m so sorry Azumane-san, it won’t happen again!” you say as you throw open the door and rush into the hallway. “Hold on, wait up!” he says as you pull the door closed behind you. You run all the way to the stairs at the end of the hallway and go to call Kokomi for a ride home. That’s when you realize that your phone is still plugged into the wall in Asahi’s room. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You turn around and trudge back towards his apartment. Before you can even knock, the door opens slowly. Asahi stands there in just his pajama pants, holding your phone out to you. “You shouldn’t leave without your phone,” he says. You thank him and take your phone, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You try not to stare at his bare chest, already feeling like a creep for ogling him while he was sleeping. “Your clothes are still in the bathroom, too,” he says. “I can go get them for you. Or I can just wash them and give them back to you another time if you want to leave.” “No, that’s okay,” you say, covering your flushing cheeks with the collar of his shirt. “I’ll get them. Can I come in?” “Of course.” Asahi steps out of your way and you head straight for the bathroom, avoiding looking in his eyes. Asahi never gets angry, and you know he wouldn’t be mad at you over something like this, but a lingering sense of shame still washes over you. You scoop up your clothes and leave the bathroom. As soon as you cross the threshold into the living room, the smell of coffee and frying fish washes over you. Asahi stands in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. In the time that you were in the bathroom, he put on a Black Jackals sweatshirt and threw his hair into a loose bun. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks, smiling at you and pouring his own cup. “It’ll help with the hangover.” You stand there and ponder his offer for a moment. Sensing your hesitancy, Asahi suddenly turns back to the stove and mumbles something that you can’t quite make out. “What did you say?” you ask. Asahi rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s had since you were kids. “I don’t mean to pressure you to stay or anything! I just thought it might help for you to have something more than crackers and ginger ale.” “You’ve done plenty to help me since last night,” you say. “But I’ll take that coffee if the offer is still on the table.” “It is!” Asahi says a little too enthusiastically for his own good. You can’t help but smirk as you take your seat at the kitchen table. Asahi pours you a cup of coffee and slides you a bowl of the rice and fish he made. You thank him quietly and start to eat. He slides into the chair across from you and eats his own breakfast, eyeing you carefully. “What?” you ask after catching him staring. “Since when have you ever called me Azumane-san?” he asks. “I don’t know,” you mumble into your coffee mug. “I didn’t think we reverted back from first name basis,” he says. “I thought we knew each other better than that.” “I don’t know,” you say, a devilish smile crossing your face. “Care to explain why you actually had those makeup wipes in your bathroom drawer? I doubt your makeup artists are coming over to your apartment.” Now it’s Asahi’s turn to blush again. “My ex-girlfriend left them here,” he says. “Felt like a waste to just throw them out.” “Ex-girlfriend?!” you exclaim suddenly, startling Asahi and causing him to drop the wipe on the floor. “I didn’t know you were seeing somebody!” “Yeah,” he says, throwing the wipe in the trash and grabbing a fresh one. “We broke up a while before you moved to the city. She left a bunch of her stuff here and refused to come pick it up. I think she was just too embarrassed to see me again. I got rid of most of it a while ago, but I kept some of the more… uh, utilitarian things.” “I’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “Why did you break up?” Asahi feels a slight pang in his chest. He met his last girlfriend through his job. She was nice enough, and things seemed like they were going okay until he showed up at her apartment to surprise her for their 6 month anniversary, only to find another man in her bed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say. “It’s fine. She cheated on me with some other guy,” he says, his expression darkening. “I think they’re engaged now.” “Shit,” you say. “What a bitch.” “Woah, settle down, it’s okay –” “No, it’s not,” you say firmly. “You deserve someone way better than that. Somebody that treats you with the love and respect that you deserve.” Asahi knows you’re right, but he doesn’t really want to press it. That whole mess had done a number on his mental health, and he really doesn’t want to burden you with his emotional baggage. He adjusts his glasses again and forces a smile. “You know, you should really take your own advice,” he says. You try to think back on what you had said to him last night. The details are fuzzy, but you remember crying. A lot. Instead of answering him, you shovel down the last of the rice and fish. “Thank you for the meal,” you say. Asahi smiles and nods at you before beginning to clear the dishes away. You stand up and stop him, insisting that you clean up yourself. As you finish drying the bowls, your phone buzzes. You check it, only to see a handful of missed texts from Kokomi.

Ono Kokomi [8:32} Hey!! Sorry I missed your call. How was he? (°◡°♡) [9:14] That good? (^.~)☆ [9:18] Or that bad?! (;;;*_*) [9:57] HELLO?? (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ [10:32] ARE YOU ALIVE?!?!?! 〣( ºΔº )〣

You roll your eyes and quickly type out your response.

Y/N [10:33] Yeah, no thanks to you. (￢_￢;)

Ono Kokomi [10:34] Was it really that bad?

Y/N [10:34] He didn’t even show up. (╥_╥) [10:34] Azumane picked me up at 2 AM because I was too drunk to go home alone. I stayed the night at his place. [10:34] Speaking of which, can you come pick me up? Not really in a state to take the train and I think you owe me one.

Ono Kokomi [10:35] (⊙_⊙) [10:35] Spill. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Y/N [10:36] There’s nothing to spill. I threw up in his bathroom and he slept on the couch. Can you just answer my question please? (҂` ﾛ ´)凸

Ono Kokomi [10:36] Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on my way, lovebird. (￣ε￣＠)

“Everything okay?” Asahi asks. “Yeah,” you say, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Kokomi’s going to come pick me up.” “Are you sure? I can take you if you want,” he offers. “Yeah, she’s already on her way,” you say, setting the bowl down and turning to face him. “Besides, you’ve done more than enough for me already over the last twelve hours.” You silently pick up your things and walk towards the door. Asahi rises from his chair and awkwardly clears his throat. “Do you have all your stuff?” You nod and smile. Before you open the door, you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. He shyly hugs you back, hoping you can’t hear the rapid pounding in his chest. “Thank you, Asahi,” you whisper. “You’re amazing.” You let go first and leave his apartment quietly. As soon as the door closes, Asahi walks back into the living room and flops down on the couch. He covers his face with his hands and groans. This morning was almost too much for him – seeing you in his clothes, eating breakfast together, you hugging him before you left. It was all so painfully domestic, and he wishes it didn’t have to end. If only he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve asked you to stay longer. He doesn’t know how long he lays there until he finally decides to get moving for the day and finish that piece he was working on when you called last night. He checks his phone and sees your name pop up on the screen.

Y/N [11:00] I’m home. Thanks again for babysitting me last night. Whatever did I do to deserve you as my guardian angel? ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ [11:00] Or was that Noya-san? I forget. (^ω~)

Azumane Asahi [11:01] Lol. You’re welcome. And that was what we called Noya in our club days, but I don’t mind you calling me that too (* ^ ω ^)

Y/N [11:03] Let me make it up to you. [11:04] Come over for dinner tomorrow night?

Asahi almost drops his phone on his face. His fingers fumble as he types his response. He waits a moment before sending it, rereading it ten times to make sure he doesn’t come across as desperate.

Azumane Asahi [11:07] I’d love to. Do you want me to bring anything?

Y/N [11:08] That’s not necessary. I owe you a nice dinner. [11:09] You still like tonkotsu ramen?

Azumane Asahi [11:10] I do!

Y/N [11:11] It’s a date! See you tomorrow! (☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

“You said nothing happened last night,” Kokomi says, staring over your shoulder at your phone. “Nothing happened, Kokomi. Now leave me alone,” you snap, tossing one of your throw pillows at her. She deftly catches it and plops down on the couch next to you. “Please,” she says, swatting you with the pillow. “The only reason you two haven’t gotten together is because you’re the densest people on the planet. I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” “Shut up,” you grumble. Kokomi’s phone rings and she quickly checks it. “Anyway, I have to go meet Kaito,” she says. “Got to go. Let me know how your date goes!” She waves and practically skips out the front door. You lay down and start making a shopping list for ingredients for tonkatsu ramen. As soon as you’re done, you set your phone down and cross your arms over your face.

“I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” No, Kokomi. That’s me.

#asahi azumane #azumane asahi #asahi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic writer #asahi x female reader #asahi x you #asahi x yn

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 4 years ago

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Midnight moments with Seventeen

Seventeen masterlist Group Masterlist

A/N: Under a read more not because it’s suggestive but because 13 members and a very long post

S.Coups/Seuncheol:

Any down time of his was usually spent sleeping and you really couldn’t blame him. Ever since you had started dating Seungcheol, you’re downtime was definitely spent taking naps more than anything else and well, you loved it.

This night was a little different, but the general idea was the same. You could feel Seungcheol’s fingers dancing over your sides as you talked, drawing shapes on your skin through your shirt. “You know what’s most surprising about tonight?” He asked hands coming up to cup your face with a smile. “Hmm?” You asked lazily, placing your hands on his bare chest. “That it’s midnight on a day off and I haven’t fallen asleep yet.” You laughed at his words, before he rolled you both over so he laid on top of you.

“If you’re not carefull, you’ll become as lazy as me on your days off.”

Jeonghan:

“Just know, before you I had never done this before.” You said and he laughed, getting ready to kick the ball. “I could tell by how you kick.” Jeonghan joked and you shook your head. This was something you don’t do often, soccer at night and it had become something you and Jeonghan would look forward too when the opportunity presented itself.

With just the two of you, it was fun. Running around the empty park lit up only by the glow of street lighting and the moon, laughing and playing like kids. Especially when you missed a very open goal, it was highly amusing. “Wahh, you really suck at this. You would think the more we do this, you’d get better.” He said wrapping his arms around you and tackling you to the grass gently. You shoved him slightly with a laugh, not wanting to give in to your loss.

“It’s okay, I still love you even if you suck at soccer.”

Joshua/Jisoo:

It was the simple text around midnight that asked: Do you want to go for a drive? Which meant, Joshua couldn’t sleep, not that you were complaining. Late night drives were a blessing with Joshua, filled with hot cocoa, cookies, some good music and some 1 on 1 time with him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You asked as you sat down next to him. “Maybe, or maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you.” He turned his head with a cheesy smile and you laughed. “So you couldn’t sleep.” “Yeah I couldn’t sleep. BUT, I did bring you hot cocoa with whipped cream.” He said, handing you the cup and kissing your cheek. You smiled at him, sipping the drink gently because it was hot.

“Where should we go? Drive by the beach, or go through the city?”

Jun/Junhui:

You couldn’t help but doze off slightly to the sound of his voice, your brain wasn’t even registering what he was saying at this point either. Jun’s voice was just so comforting and it was late, his little trick to help you learn Chinese faster wasn’t going to work at least not at midnight. He had come up with the concept of reading books to you in Chinese, to help you learn.

“Yah, are you sleeping?” He asked, the book shutting loudly to make your eyes shoot open. “I’m sorry, I was dozing off.” You admitted with a little laugh. Jun put the book down and moved to lean over you. “If I had more time in a day I would read with you in the afternoon and not at midnight.” He was apologetic towards you for that, but he didn’t need to be. You absolutely understood. You pushed his hair out of his face and smiled. “Let’s just stop reading tonight, go to bed.” You whispered and tried to convince him, only for him to smile.

“Let’s finish this chapter.”

Hoshi/Soonyoung:

“So just twist this way-” “Like this?” You asked attempting to mimic his movements only to hear him laugh heartily. “I mean, you’re not wrong but you’re not right.” He explained and you stood up straight, crossing your arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Soonyoung wrapped his arms around you quickly, tucking his face into your neck.

You had come to keep him company in the practice room, because he was alone and it was late and now he was teasing you. Your back pressed against his and you looked in the mirror. “It’s okay, I won’t make you dance again.” He said softly and you laughed. “You’re trying to be sweet but it still feels like you’re laughing at me.” You said and Soonyoung burst out into laughter.

“That’s enough practicing for today, how about we just go home and watch a movie or something.”

Wonwoo:

You could feel his eyes on you as you flipped through the pages of your book, he wasn’t paying attention to his own at all anymore. You often late night read together, it was something you both enjoyed. Being able to sit in silence together, immersed in different stories but still together. But now, he was just watching you as you read.

“Book boring?” You asked, placing your bookmark between the pages. “Everything is boring compared to you.” Wonwoo smiled cheekily and you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment. “You’re delirious, go to bed.” You said, watching him get up from his chair to drop down to his knees in front of you and take your book from your lap. He grabbed your hands and looked you in the eyes, seemingly going to say something very serious.

“How about we go get some ice cream or something?”

Woozi/Jihoon:

It was refreshing to be with Jihoon in the studio but to not have him working. You had managed to convince him to take a break, which ended up in him laying on top of you on the couch as you played with his hair. You were simply listening to him ramble on about the newest Going Seventeen episode and what they had to do.

“They set up this whole course, it was absolutely insane. I really wonder how the producers come up with this stuff.” He explained and you had to laugh. “I’m amazed at their creativity. Wish I had some of that while working.” He continued and you kept petting his hair. “Nah, you’re plenty creative and good at you’re job.” You smiled and he shook his head.

“You’re supposed to say that, you’re dating me.”

Dokyeom/Seokmin:

Curse restaurants that were open late, especially really good pizza joints. Late night snack you both called it and well, you absolutely loved these moments with him. “Midnight pizza should be illegal.” Seokmin said and you nodded, taking a bite of your own pizza. “To some of your managers, it probably is.” You joked and he sighed.

“You spoiled the fun with one sentence.” He laughed and you joined in. “Sorry.” You laughed out and he rested his head onto your shoulder. “We should probably head home soon.” He added, finishing his pizza and throwing a napkin on to his plate. He turned in his chair to look at you with a bright smile before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Thank you for coming out with me when I’m craving pizza at midnight.”

Mingyu:

“I can’t believe you crave cookies at midnight, beg me to make them with you and then also spill the dough.” You whisper yelled, trying to keep quiet for the other members in the dorm were sleeping. Mingyu was a laughing mess on the floor, covered in flour and dough. “I’m sorry.” He choked out and pulled you down to the floor with him.

“What’s going on in here?” Seungcheol asked, hearing the ruckus that came with the mess. It must’ve been a sight to his eyes. “Mingyu wanted freshly baked cookies.” You said, attempting to pat out some of the flour in his hair. Mingyu simply smiled at you as you did. Seungcheol simply raised his eyebrows and walked away, not wanting to deal with it. Mingyu pushed up off the ground, helping you up with him.

“I’ll clean this up. Maybe we should attempt this tomorrow again.”

The8/Minghao:

You were perched on the foot of his bed, scrolling through your phone as he went back and forth through his closet. Glancing up every now and then to look at him. “Okay, do these work together?” He asked, showing off the outfit he had put together. Minghao often did this late at night, when he was worried about what to wear out the next day.

“It doesn’t not work.” You said and he scoffed. “Right, different shirt.” He said, pulling it off swiftly and going back to his closet. You shook your head with a laugh, returning to aimlessly scrolling on your phone. Only for him to huff and join you on the bed and placing his head on your shoulder with a sigh. “It’s hard to be fashionable isn’t it?” You asked and he nodded.

“So exhausting.”

Seungkwan:

One hand held his while the other held your fish cakes as you walked through the park. Seungkwan had finished work early (but still midnight) and wanted to take a walk with you, so there you were, at midnight, under the promise of being treated to fish cakes.

“So how was practice?” You asked and you could physically feel him sigh. “I’m so tired today, I don’t know why?” He said, gesturing for you to give a bite of your food. “Maybe because it’s midnight and you’ve been dancing all day.” You suggested and he shrugged. “Right.That could be it.” He took the fish cake skewer from your hand, eating the rest. You looked at him with disapproval, snatching the skewer back.

“You owe me another one.”

Vernon/Hansol:

“Okay but how would you style that?” You asked, pointing to the absolutely ridiculous hat on whatever clothing website he was looking on. “I would just style it. Put it on my head and wear it.” Vernon teased, adjusting his laptop on his stomach as you both aimlessly scrolled.

“Those shoes are cool.” You pointed and he nodded. “Want me to order them for you?” He asked and you started laughing. “I thought we were just window shopping?” You asked, dropping your head onto his shoulder and pulling the blankets up over your own. You watched him add them to his cart with a smile, before adding that hat.

“When am I ever just window shopping?”

Dino/Chan:

“We have to come up with a penalty.” You said, before starting your tekken match. “A penalty, you sure about that?” Chan asked, raising his eyebrows at you in question. “I’m very sure... how about loser pays for our late night snack tonight.” You suggested and he shook his head.

“No, no it’s too late for that anyways. Think bigger.” He started, pausing to think. “Loser buys the other coffee for the next 2 months.” He suggested and you hummed. “You’re on. Lee Chan your coffee money is mine.” You said and redirected your attention to the tv. It only took a few moments for your character to knock his out and he was laying flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“Why do I always have to one up the bets, it always bites me in the butt. Even with you. But okay, starting tomorrow I’ll get you a coffee everyday.”

A/N: This took me forever. I need to get back in the swing of things in writing for Seventeen.

#seventeen #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenario #s.coups #jeonghan #joshua #jun #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #dokyeom #mingyu #the8 #seungkwan #vernon #dino

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ynisamenace · 4 years ago

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Party For One

Warnings: sub! Aone being a flustered mess, confident dom! Reader, nsfw kinda (grinding, not pg-13 kissing), mention of drugs and alcohol, college au! Aone.

Word count: 2.3k

a/n: ok guys this is my first fanfic so apologies if it’s not too good or if the ending is too rushed. Constructive criticism is always welcome and pls don’t forget to like and/or reblog. Thank you!

Aone was not much of a party goer. Although his friends were more outgoing, he in fact was not. He was more of a homebody, mostly leaving his shared apartment with Kenji for school, to get more ramen from the corner shop near his uni or practice with his newly-formed volleyball team; courtesy of his newly-formed friend, Kanji. Then proceeding to come home to shower, nap, wake up, struggle with his homework and then sleep till the next day. He was about to start the fourth activity of his daily routine when the sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment.

Sighing, he left his spot at the kitchen island to open the front door, then trying to close it once Kanji’s face appeared behind it.

“Woah woah if you wanted some alone time, you should’ve just said that”, the cat-faced friend exclaimed, just barely slipping through the crack in the door. Face adorned with brown freckles and a smile seemingly super glued to his face, he looked like the poster boy of golden retriever boys, “Wouldn’t matter anyway since I’m still dragging you to Sugawara’s tonight.”

Ah yes, Suga’s party, the one Aone was being forced to go to as a favour for his new friend. The white haired boy uttered a grunt of disapproval as Kanji plopped down onto his couch.

“I’m telling you man, when girls see us walking in together with my beauty and your scowl-,” he smirked while giving Aone a once over, “-they’ll come flocking like parakeets.” Aone ignored his new friend’s rambling and was about to go back to his homework when his phone buzzed. Picking it up and looking at his crush’s name made him do a double take before realizing it was from his class groupchat.

Y/n❤: Someone better come pick me up or else I’m dumping the mary jane😤

Sugawara: You live on campus, how did you sneak it in?

Y/n❤: Come pick me up and I’ll tell you

Bsf/n: I can see I’m gonna be on y/n duty tonight. I’ll come get you in 5

Y/n❤: Girl I’ll literally marry you don’t play with me

-5 minutes later-

Y/n❤: Psa to everyone in this groupchat, bsf/n and I are married now

Bsf/n: As long as you do my makeup for the party lol

Y/n❤: Deal

A slightly dejected sigh left the tall boy’s lips, wishing it was him y/n would joke about marrying to the- wait party?? The realization that y/n was going to the same party as him made heart race with anticipation and although he never talked to her in any of the classes they shared, Aone developed a massive crush on y/n just by seeing the way she interacts with others as well as her personality. Her presence when she walks into a room, beautiful coily/kinky hair either flowing or in a different ‘protective style’ (which Aone ended up googling the meaning to) and her face adorned with a smile so bright, he could feel his ears getting hotter just by its look, it would be foolish to think that no other person in his uni or elsewhere had already snatched her up. Which is why Aone never felt the need to let her know about how much he was falling for her.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his roommate’s door opening, revealing a clearly tipsy Kenji trying and failing to button up the last button on his silk shirt.

“Is anyone g-gonna help or what..” he slurred, stumbling into the living room, planting himself right in front of Aone who begrudgingly helped him with the last button. Satisfied, the intoxicated boy walks over to Kanji on the couch who’s currently scrolling through his instagram feed. He gives Kenji a once over before giving a nod of approval to his outfit. He turns to the tall, white haired boy, “Aone go change, the party starts in 10 and you know it’ll take us half an hour to get there!”, he exclaimed gesturing to Aone with his hands in a shooing manner. He didn’t understand what was wrong with his gray shirt and black sweatpants but went to his room to go change anyway, returning six minutes later sporting a green and white checkered shirt with dark blue jeans and black levis. The trio hurriedly leave their apartement, Kanji practically dragging both boys to his car before appointing Aone as the designated driver as the boy was the only one who had no intention to drink at the party.

The ride to the party took much more than half an hour as Aone was forced to drive while simultaneously trying to stop the two boys at the back from drinking any more of the pregame Kanji brought as well as preventing Kenji from messing with the aux cord. In the end, both boys settled on playing Ei8th mile on repeat the rest of the drive, both alternating between rapping DigDat and Aitch’s lines. Finally getting to the address Sugawara sent to the group, the trio hopped out of the car and went to knock on the door, opening to reveal the silver haired boy in all his glory wearing a burger king crown and a drunk smile.“You guys look li-hiccup-ke you had a fun drife here”, opening the door wider to reveal flashing red and purple strobe lights, living room filled with drunk and soon-to-be drunk college students and a hiphop song playing with a loud base that almost made Aone’s teeth clink. The two drunk boys wasted no time heading to the make shift bar in the kitchen, Aone following reluctantly behind feeling quite awkward in the party setting. Even worse, he was unable to spot y/n in the crowd making his heart drop lower into his stomach.

No no no no.

Even though Aone didn’t think y/n would like him the way he likes her, he was hoping he could at least use this party to make himself known to her, maybe forming a friendship with her first before professing his love. Dejectedly, he trudges to the bar, sulking next to his now very drunk friends who are far more interested with the designs on the kitchen counter.

“Dude it’s so swirly…how do they make it like that?” one of the boys asks.

“Bro it has to be like a top secret thing. Like in the dark web,” the other replied, his eyes widening as his pupils are blown out more.

Not wanting to deal with their drunk conspiracies, Aone heads to the store room in search for some water after not seeing any laid out. Finding a bottle, he quickly gulps it down, faintly hearing the song in the living room change to one with a much deeper base. Leaving the store with his thirst finally quenched, he recognizes the song as Cold by Rico Nasty, her gravely voice echoing around the living room and drowning out some of the chatter which Aone was grateful for.

Ridin’ in a Maserati

Like Scotty I’m with two hotties

I ain’t just walk in the party-

“I brought the drugs to the partyyyy”, a voice which made Aone’s heart beat faster screamed, Y/n bursting through the front door with a medium sized pack of marijuana and a tray of what he assumes are pot brownies as the crownd cheered at her arrival. Her eyes wide with excitement, hair in cute little bantu knots (which Aone noted is now probably his favourite hairstyle on her), and dazzling smile still glued to her face. Making a bee line to the kitchen to drop the stuff she was holding, she hugged and greeted the people closest to her, making Aone regret not standing closer to the front door before realizing she was making her way straight to him.“Hi Polar Bear!” her scent of f/p enveloping him as she hugged his stomach, hair right next to nose, making the boy short-circuit. Y/n is hugging me. Me. Hugging. She smells so good. I should probably hug her back. But what if that’s weird. Hugging me. I’m gonna marry her. I’m gonna throw u-

“Takanobu woohoo you good?” she whispered in neck, drawing him out of his daydream, while at the same time making blood rush to his lower region. His eyes widen as he turns to see her staring right at him, inches apart and eyes questioning.

“I-I’m doing well y/n, um you uh look great tonight”, he managed to blurt out, his compliment making her lips curve into that signature smile. He unconsciously let out a low groan as he felt his jeans tighten even more as his mind raced a mile a minute, envisioning her on top of him, smile turning into a smirk as she runs her hands over his body making him squirm. His neck, his nipples, his happy trail, his-

Once again brought out of his daydream, he looked around to see y/n already gone and dancing in the living room, her presence making her look ethereal in the flashing lights. Smiling slightly, Aone deciding to stop before his imagination made him cream in his pants, decided to go look for his friends spotting both of them laying near a potted plant in the hallway caressing the leaves and muttering under their breaths. He discreetly goes back to the store, getting two bottles of water and placing them on either side of his friends, knowing they’ll be shocked at it ‘appearing’.

Sighing tiredly, he briefly thinks of just driving back to his apartment having already seen his crush and hugged her, but decided against it not wanting to feel guilty for abandoning his intoxicated friends. He was about to go to the backyard looking for some fresh air before he heard his name being said in the crowd. Turning around too quickly he bumped into someone, gripping their waist and letting their scent envelop him before he caught a glimpse of their hair.

Yes yes God yes

“Nobu I’m so sorry, I was trying to get your attention but you didn’t turn around!” y/n exclaimed, gripping his shirt making the boy realize his grip on her waist was tightening significantly. He quickly tried to let go but y/n wasn’t having any of it and planted his large palm on her backside, squeezing a little. Aone’s face had never been as red as it is now from that simple action. Clearing his throat, he gives a tentative squeeze to gauge her reaction and seeing the smirk on her face as her pupils darken. She finally releases her grip on his hand and turns to the dance floor, Aone follow behind.

As they reach the dance floor, afrobeats fill the air as joro by wizkid which Aone knew was one of y/n’s favourite songs) plays turning the energy of the party to a slower tempo. Y/n turns to the tall boy, once more putting his hands on her waist, before pulling him closer to her, their bodies now pressed against eachother.

Aone can feel her grinding on his pants and begs to any God who’ll listen to please not let him pop a boner right now. Her mouth comes closer to his ear and he can feel her breath making shivers run down his spine. “I could feel it you know…” she whispers as his eyes widen, embarrassment from though him as he realizes she felt the first boner he popped while hugging her in the kitchen “…didn’t peg you as the type. What a pervert you are Nobu.”

That small gesture almost made Aone cream in his pants. Almost. If not for the overwhelming shame he would feel if someone saw him, his dick was already as hard as can be. A murmur left Aone’s lips and y/n has to strain her neck to hear him over the sound of the music flowing through the house.

“What was that Nobu?”

“P-plea-ase,” he whispers, ears a bright shade of red as y/n smirks looking him in the eye to see his pupils blown out, clouded with lust and feeling his member poking her in the thigh.

“Please what Nobu?” their lips almost touching.

“..Please kiss me”

“That’s all you had to say ya damn polar bear”, finally pressing her lips on his and making the butterflies in his stomach turn into fireworks. He really couldn’t believe it. His head felt like it was about to burst from all the blood that rushed into it. Her lips felt so much better, so much better than his imagination. Her hands sliding up to his neck and slipping into the hair on the nape of his neck, he uttered a low groan giving access to y/n to slip her tongue onto his. Aone could feel his precum dampening his briefs and hoped that a dark spot wouldn’t be visible by the end of the night. She tried to break the kiss, his head leaning closer not letting her go until she tugged hard on his nape hair forcefully, a string of saliva still connecting them.

“What a needy boy”, she smirked, letting go of him to swipe at the corner of his lips. “Why didn’t I come speak to you earlier?”, he didn’t care because for him, this really was worth the wait.

Aone was not much of a party goer, but he’d have to thank his friends in the morning for forcing him to go to this one.

Tags: @itzgabz22

#aone x reader #dom!reader #haikyuuxblackreader!#aone x y/n #haikyuu!!#blackreader!#sub!aone #ceowrites

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omgsomeonesomewhereonearth · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Write This Scene a Thousand Times - Ch2

AO3 || Chapter 1

Ship: Moceit (Janus/Patton)

Warnings: Arguing, smoking mention character outed before they're ready.

Summary: Patton and Janus get into an argument. Feelings are hurt, and then they are shared.

Taglist: Technically, I don't have one yet, but I'm tagging some people from the first chapter who seemed interested in reading more. If you want to be added or removed, send me an ask or message.

@iclaimedtobethebetterbard @princess-rosie @symphony-soldier-29 @stardustsides @ent-is-undecisive @roka-logical-lies @ifyouhadntbutyoudid @3-has-charm @moceit

...

“Come on, try to be more cute!”

His new pretend paramour was turning out to be quite the demanding director. Janus pursed his lips, leaning idly against Patton’s incredible cozy couch cushions as he watched him tilt his phone this way and that, trying to find the most natural angle for a staged relationship announcement.

“You wound me, Patton,” he deadpanned, “I was under the impression you already found me rather cute.” Patton glared - no, that was the wrong word. Something incredibly intrinsic in the nature of Patton didn’t quite allow him to ‘glare’. Patton pouted at him in the selfie camera, freckled cheeks puffing out in frustration.

Clearly, he didn’t have much trouble with that particular direction, Janus mused.

“Why can’t you just smile?”

“I am smiling.”

“You’re smirking!”

“Same thing.”

Patton made a very petulant noise indeed, “This needs to be believable!”

“You’re mistaken if you think anything where I’m-” he shuddered, “-smiling, will be remotely believable.”

Then he caught a look at Patton’s face. As funny as it was to wind him up, Janus wasn’t sure he wanted to see him actually crack today.

“Alright, look, why don’t you come closer?” he coaxed, shifting slightly and encouraging Patton to lean against him, draping his arm around his shoulder

“There you go, how sickeningly adorable are we?”

Within the frame of the selfie, they were adorable. Patton’s honey brown curls and fluffy white sweater were the perfect contrast against his fitted black button down - ofcourse, he already knew that, they’d chosen their outfits ahead of time. To anybody who couldn’t feel the stiffness in Patton’s shoulders, they probably looked like the perfect couple.

“Okay… you ready?”

Just as the countdown ticked to one, Janus turned his head and pressed a quick kiss against Patton’s cheek.

The camera clicked.

Patton whipped around to face him immediately after, cheeks darkening, “You - I didn’t know you were going to do that!”

Janus grinned, reaching for his wrist.

“And this is exactly why,” he replied in a voice not entirely devoid of smugness. The picture had been caught before Patton had had the chance to react, still smiling widely as Janus leaned over to kiss him, “You’re welcome.”

Patton blushed harder, spluttering slightly and quickly prying his wrist out of Janus’ grip, scooting back as far as the couch would allow. Janus let him go, following the embarrassed motion with his eyes.

Once he was at what he apparently deemed a safe distance away, Patton mumbled, “It is quite a good picture, actually. Better than any of the others we’ve taken today, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said it was quite good, actually-”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite catch you saying that, would you mind -”

“Oh stop it!” the corner’s of Patton’s mouth twitched in what Janus chose to interpret as a smile.

He rose to his feet, feeling rather good about himself, “Well, now I suppose you can send that along to Logan for approval and we can be done here then? Er - not that this hasn’t been fun, or whatever.” he amended hastily. Nailed it.

“Oh, um - actually…”

Janus groaned, “I swear to God if you tell me we have to take another set of photos, ‘just in case’-”

“It’s not that,” Patton said quickly, “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Well, you’d better make it quick,” Janus drawled, “I do have actual engagements outside of this, you know.”

The words came out in a moment of pettiness and he regretted them almost immediately, partly because they weren’t remotely true - unless mooching around at his home counted as an ‘outside engagement’.

But as he said them, Patton deflated, his eyes downcast, his mouth drawing in to form a silent, plaintive ‘oh’.

“That’s okay!” he covered up quickly, as if he thought Janus hadn’t noticed his disappointment, “It was silly anyway, you don’t have to-”

“No no no, it’s quite okay,” Janus interjected hastily, “I can always take out the time for you, dear.”

Right, yes, flirt Janus. I’m sure that’ll somehow not make you the asshole here.

Patton gave him a wan smile. He gestured for Janus to sit, and he did, careful to leave space between them now that the camera had been put away. He watched Patton fidget for a few minutes as he tried to find the words he wanted to say.

“-So the night we… well, met, so to speak,”

Ah. Janus winced internally - he’d been wondering if Patton would want to have this conversation for a while now, and had dearly hoped he never would. Externally, he smirked. “Yes, I would say we were rather ‘well met’ - I’m glad you think so too.”

Instead of the frustrated groan that he was expecting, a burst of tiny, adorable laughter spilled out of Patton’s lips. Patton seemed just as surprised as him, lifting his hand to cover his mouth even as his shoulders shook and his dark eyes crinkled with delight.

It was hard not to smile back, with a laugh like that, especially when it had been his own idiotic joke that had caused it.

“That was quite funny,” Patton admitted as his giggles tapered off.

It had been terrible, but Janus wasn’t one to look compliment horses in the mouth. “Thank you, I try.”

Patton’s face sobered far too soon, “Um, did you - do you remember anything? From then, I mean?”

“I…” Janus considered, “I remember enough.”

The memories were hazy, though. He remembered leaving the premiere, going to get a drink. He remembered catching sight of an absolute vision in pale blue, gazing with wide, curious eyes at his surroundings, smiling and waving self consciously when he’d noticed Janus watching him. He couldn’t for the life of him remember what they’d talked about.

He hadn’t even known who Patton was, at the time, though he’d assumed he was at least semi-famous, given the usual clientele of the club.

“D’you - do you remember what I was acting like?” Patton asked haltingly, “Was I normal, I mean?”

Janus paused. He thought about the man he’d met , who laughed loudly and carelessly, who followed him eagerly to the dancefloor. Who looked at him like he would follow him anywhere, if Janus asked. He thought about the man he’d woken up next to, who’d been skittish, panicking, shrinking into himself when Janus so much as looked at him.

He thought about the way he’d felt when Patton laughed at his dumb joke.

“I’ve known you for about three days and you’ve been either tipsy or highly stressed for all of them,” he replied in a measured voice, “I’m hardly the person to ask how ‘normal’ you were acting.”

Patton nodded, though he seemed disappointed, his brow knit in confusion.

“It’s just - I don’t remember anything,” he started, voice strained, “I’ve gone over it so many times and I still can’t understand why I did it!”

Janus’ gut twisted far harder than it should have.

“Oh, thank you so much,” he snapped.

“That’s not fair,” Patton snapped back with just as much wounded ferocity, “You know what I mean - I’ve never done anything like that! I’m not like that, I stay out of trouble-”

“-Not like what, exactly?” Janus interrupted, narrowing his eyes, “Or should I say, ‘not like whom’?”

“Janus-”

Stop, he should stop, remove himself from the situation, calm down.

Janus had gotten to his feet without realising it.

“‘Stay out of trouble?’” he hissed, “We are grownups, have you considered that we shouldn’t be getting into ‘trouble’ for having consensual sex in the first place-”

“Of course I’ve considered it, but that doesn’t change the fact that we do, and we did!” Patton protested, “I’m just being realistic here, we both chose to be in this industry-”

Janus scoffed.

“And maybe you don’t care, but I-” Patton spoke right over him, “think I have a responsibility to behave-”

“Behave?” Janus laughed bitterly.

“You’re misunderstanding me-”

“Oh no, I think I understand just fine,” he interrupted, “I’m so sorry I led you astray, I assure you it won’t happen again.”

“I- I know it won’t?” Patton replied, dumbfounded, “Janus, I’m not trying to fight with you-”

“Well in that case, perhaps I should take my leave.” Janus cut in.

Patton looked dismayed, “Maybe that’s for the best, yeah,” he muttered eventually. He didn’t get up to show Janus the door.

Janus thought about slamming it behind him, but decided it would be rude and uncouth.

Besides, it would be far more satisfying to leave it open so that Patton would have to get up and close it. He was at the end of the corridor before he heard it click quietly closed.

He didn’t turn around.

…

Janus was mooching around in his flat. Janus was definitely not thinking about Patton as he did so.

Had he been about to cry, when he left? He wouldn’t have noticed at the time, what with his own anger, but the idea that Patton might have cried after he walked out made his heart clench.

Because that was fair, he grumbled to himself. It wasn’t like he’d said anything wrong, he was right - this whole charade they’d gotten trapped in, it was unnecessary and ludicrous, and it wasn’t his fault - wasn’t either of their faults.

God, he needed a smoke.

Just as he was reaching for the box hidden in his bedside drawer - why were they hidden, he lived alone - his phone buzzed. He’d been tagged in an image by @patton.theheart on Instagram. Ah yes. Even if they were both seething and furious at each other, the dance continued.

“Three perfect months with @totally_notalyre - we’re both so excited to finally share our relationship with you all!!! <3 <3 <3”

The comments were already flooding in, row after row of overwhelming positivity, keyboard smashing and heart emojis. Janus scrolled through them impassively, stopping to smirk at the ones raving about how attractive he was - well, he never claimed to be a modest man.

Then he saw one that made his blood run cold.

“So proud of you Patton!”

Followed by several rainbows.

And several more:

“I’ve been a fan of you since you were like, 16 and I’m so happy to finally see you living your truth!”

“Well done Patton! Don’t worry - your true fans will stick by you no matter what!”

“Thank you so much for sharing your true self with us, Patton <3”

The memories of the past few days, every version of Patton that lived in his head, flashed before Janus’ eyes in a very different light, ending with him cross legged on his couch, biting his inner cheek as he listened to Janus berate him.

He definitely needed a fucking smoke now. No he didn’t - he needed to call Patton, he needed to talk to him, to ask him - to ask him what? They were barely friends, and he’d just spent the afternoon yelling at him, what right did he have to demand answers?

“Calm down, Lyre,” he growled to himself, “Just call the man, be calm and subtle; you need to apologise to him if nothing else.”

“Hello?” Patton had picked up on the first ring. Did his voice sound subdued over the phone? Or teary?

“You weren’t out,” Janus blurted out clumsily. So much for subtle.

“I’m sorry?”

“When we had our… ‘encounter’,” he clarified, “You were still closeted?”

“Oh, that,” Patton replied flatly. He could practically hear him fidgeting over the phone, “Well technically, I wasn’t exactly closeted, I was just - trying to avoid talking about it until I was ready.”

“ …I’m so sorry.”

“No, no - it’s okay!” Patton said hastily, “I mean, maybe not ‘okay’, but looking on the bright side - I was planning on coming out in a few months from now anyway! So, you know, technically this took the pressure off!”

Despite his cheery tone, Janus got the feeling Patton didn’t quite believe himself. He definitely didn’t believe him. “You had one planned?” he asked.

“Well yeah, actually!” Patton admitted, “Technically, it’s still gonna happen - I’m gonna be releasing an album where I sort of share my experiences and feelings and stuff, so it’s not like I lost anything, I guess.”

You lost the right to control your own damn narrative, Janus didn’t retort, because he knew fully well that Patton knew that, he was just a relentless, infuriating optimist.

“Um… Janus?” Patton’s voice cut through his thoughts, “Just by the way - I’m not technically supposed to tell many people, so please just keep that quiet because I think Logan is already quite cross at me anyway?”

“Done,” Janus chuckled. Then he drew in a breath, ready to address the difficult part of this call, “Regarding my conduct earlier today - I believe I might owe you an apology.”

“No you don’t.” Patton responded quickly, far firmer than he’d ever been, at least with Janus.

“Patton-”

“You don’t,” he repeated, “Yeah, I mean - you could have been nicer, but you were right, and I said some less than nice things too! But, you know - when you sorta grow up in this industry, it becomes a bit hard to know which bits are normal and which bits are kinda…messed up? And our little spat today, it really kind of reminded me, so if anything, maybe I should thank you!”

“You should not.”

“Well-”

“If you can forbid me from apologising, I can forbid you from thanking me.”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough!” Patton’s giggle was just as infectious over the phone and Janus felt the corners of his mouth lift against his will.

“Ahem - well, lovely talking to you, as always, but I ought to get going now.”

“Goodnight Janus.”

“…Goodnight, Patton.”

#moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #ts patton #sanders sides #ts sides #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing #i'll write this scene a thousand times

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years ago

Text

deception

“Don’t you see what he’s doing to you?! He’s hurt you way more than what’s acceptable in a sparring march! You’re bruised and hurting, and he sure as hell doesn’t seem to care that this is the state he’s left you in.”

— Or in which, Hawks manipulates how you view your boyfriend, Shouto. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, manipulation, 18+, smut, first time sex, body worship, oral (receiving and giving), and praise

word count: 10,223

a/n: this was a commission! it was very fun to write this once I got around to it... life has just been... well you guys know because youre living it too. but I hope you enjoy this!!!!

edit: OMG AND SUPER BIG THANK YOU TO @marilla-eldriana FOR HELPING ME

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Being a student at Yuuei was a privilege.

Every year only two hundred and twenty students were admitted from a drawing pool reaching into the thousands. From there, only forty were admitted into the Hero Department, and finally, only three per year were granted the title of the Big Three.

“Watch out!”

You watched as Hawks crashed through the window to your left, and you looked down at him with a wide grin, what an idiot.

“I thought speed was better than power,” you mock watching as the villain the two of you had been hunting for some time now easily flicked the number two hero to the side.

“And that’s why I got you, isn’t it?” he chirped before rolling onto his feet.

You shrug, the smile on your face telling a different story while you both stared down the villain you had corned. There was no way you were going to let him go, no, this hunt was going to end now.

“I’ll assist you,” Hawks whispered, and your stomach fluttered in anticipation.

There weren’t many times in your internship where Hawks would say that. Working with one of the fastest and swiftest Pro Heroes ever meant that you were always fighting for a spot on the table. The days of Hawks swooping over the city faster than the eye could follow were still there; in fact, most of his sidekicks were probably cleaning up the mess the two of you had left five cities behind you.

But you were different than them, you guessed.

You were only fifteen years old when Hawks scouted you for an internship, and while you had heard the rumors of what working with the — at the time — number three hero was like, it wasn’t like that. Speed was something you had always lacked. Sure, you were faster than any past Olympian, and any ordinary citizen, but in comparison to your hero peers, you were slow. After a humiliating loss of your first Sports Festival on account of being too slow, it was an almost sweet irony that the fastest Hero took an interest in you.

But it was good. Three years you had worked with him, three years of learning how to keep up with the fastest hero by breaking your body down on multiple occasions. At first, it had been just trying to keep up with his sidekicks who cleaned up after his mess, who were extremely quick as it is. Then after figuring out how to use your power quirk to make yourself faster, something that had been helped with a fight or flight response on your own end, you were able to become faster than most Pros.

But that wasn’t anything in comparison to Hawks still, but when a sixteen-year-old girl saves your life because you overshot your ability to fight, it’s easy to incorporate said sixteen-year-old girl into your regular routine.

The initial introduction of you into his regular routine was less than ideal, he had simply stated to follow after him and would be gone. But with time, he took to holding onto you while he flew, which meant that you needed to include glasses and ear protectors into your costume.

With the glass crushing under the weight of your shoes, you crotched the slightest bit, looking over at Hawks with a smirk. Three years of teamwork had lead to moments like these, no need to communicate, and with a raise of an eyebrow, he nodded.

The feeling of his feathers skimming your back shot the anxiety coursing through you, and you ran out of the shattered window, Hawks hot on your heel and the villain coming straight at you.

In the long run, it didn’t mean much that you were physically stronger than Hawks could ever be, but it sure made you smile knowing that you were.

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“And that’s another point for me!” you grin watching as the police took the villain into their car, Hawks stood next to you with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What will I do? I have eighty-seven points, and that makes what? Twelve?”

“It’s not my fault you go for slow as shit villains,” you accuse, turning your nose up at him.

“Oh yeah? Should we hunt for the fa—”

“Hawks!”

The two of you froze in your quarrel, turning to a man who was towering over the two of you.

Endeavor.

“Endeavor, hi!” Hawks erupted into a wide grin, his eyes brightening while he looked up at the man he admired.

Trying to hide your snicker, you tilted your head, and your eyes widened seeing three boys behind him.

“Hey guys!” you wave at your classmates behind Endeavor.

“Y/h/n!” Deku greeted you with a large grin and a bow.

You smiled, even more, seeing the way that Bakugou and Shouto both addressed you in their own ways.

“How are you guys doing?”

The rather one-sided conversation between you and Deku made you laugh on many instances. It seemed that being the only work-study students had meant that they were always getting their asses beat. Not that you didn’t already know this, it was just humorous hearing it coming from Deku’s mouth.

“Is Tokoyami-kun not with you guys?” Deku asked, looking around at last for the raven headed student who did, in fact, work with Hawks.

“Not today! A neighboring agency requested his help, so it’s just Hawks and me today!” you nodded your head at the three boys who were quite famous within Japan.

“Are you okay? We heard about the villain; that’s why we’re here,” Shouto spoke, his eyes curious, and his head tilts.

Your face warms when you smile, nodding gratefully.

“I am,” you clasp your hands together, “Hawks got sent through a building, though.”

“Some fucking number two hero,” Bakugou scoffed, and you snickered not wanting to agree with your stupidly observant boss behind you.

“You guys look less than put together; what happened to you?” you asked, noticing the scruffs and dirt on all of their faces.

“Bakugou and Midoriya got into a fight mid-air, and I happened to be in the fire zone,” Shouto rolled his eyes. At the same time, your friends exploded into offensive and defensive arguments, respectively. “We fell into the middle of some villain fight weirdly enough.”

While you grinned at Shouto, your eyes locked completely, you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Alright, y/h/n, Endeavor says there’s a villain seven blocks ahead, and I think we can beat them there!” Hawks laughs, and you can’t say your goodbyes because his hands lift you into the air. “See you guys there!”

And you were off.

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Your limbs ached slightly when you reentered campus grounds. With your case in your right hand, there was nothing to do except trudge ahead, hoping to get to your dorm quickly.

“You’re back.”

You blinked and saw Shouto approaching you. He was in a casual outfit, most likely having been here for some time, seeing that it was eight at night.

“What are you doing out so late?” you ask, pushing down your skirt in hopes to look presentable even with the bandage on your chin.

“I was waiting for you,” Shouto smiles gently, his hand brushing your cheek, observing the injury on your face. “You okay?”

“It was just a scratch, nothing too crazy,” you promise, and you smile under his warm touch.

There isn’t much surprise when his lips come and press against yours, and you hum contently feeling his warm skin moving gently against yours.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Shouto whispered, finally pulling away from you. You groaned, having not been satisfied with the simple liplock, but opened your eyes to see that he was studying your face again.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you tease, your nose scrunching with your words.

“I have so many already.”

“I know,” you smile, dragging him away, “I’m starving.”

It didn’t take long for you to get a proper dinner. With you being out for your only day off, you were pleased to see that there was a plate of food waiting for you that was left behind by your classmates. So you sat in the dining area of the dorm, eating the food while talking with Shouto.

You told him about the rest of your day, of how the two of you were close to cracking this case of serial cases of disappearing Pro Heroes who would reemerge days later without memory. The two of you had been working on it for a week now and had multiple promising leads. With the end of your career at UA coming in only five days, you were excited about the possibility of cracking this case after your graduation to help give you a good running start as a sidekick on the Hero Charts.

But before you knew it, it was already past eleven, and with classes tomorrow, it was time for you to go your separate ways.

“You don’t want me to spend the night?” he asks while you walk unconvincingly to the door of your floor, your hands grasping his.

“You know that I do, but I can’t let that happen yet,” you pout, watching as Shouto nods in understanding. “Soon, I swear.”

“I just can’t believe my girlfriend has no self-control that I can’t even sleep in her bed without her wanting to fuck me,” Shouto sighs and while you splutter, telling him how he’s wrong, he places a goodnight kiss onto your forehead and leaves with a kind smile and a small wave.

Stupid son of a bitch.

But he wasn’t wrong.

You had morals and ethics that you had told to Shouto well before things turned serious for the two of you. Sex was something you were always nervous about, not in the sense that it was a bad thing — god forbid you’d ever slut-shame anyone — but more that you wanted it to be special.

It had to be with the right person at the right time.

Shouto was someone you knew was the right person, but as your hormonal feelings for Shouto grew and you realized one late night that you were grinding against his bucking hips, your face hot, his lips and teeth pulling at the sensitive flesh of your neck did you realize that this was so not okay. You had pushed Shouto onto the ground, his eyes dazed and confused while you began to say that you were so not ready for this step of the relationship. But it wasn’t like it was the only time you’ve blue balled your boyfriend… no, you had done it time and time again.

So much so that Shouto practically refused to be in a room alone with you now because it always ended with one of you pinned to the bed and Shouto being launched onto the floor.

With a sigh, you watched Shouto turn around, walking backward with a small wave and a grin when you blew him a kiss and flipped him off. He called you the moment he was back in his room, and although you weren’t letting him stay in your bed with you, you did fall asleep on the line with him, his steady breathing lulling your heavy eyes to sleep.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Hawks watched while you trudged into his office, your face pulled into a pout, a bandage sitting on your cheek.

“Morning,” you call out, exhaustion evident on your face.

“What’s up with you?” he smirks, watching you walk to his desk and slumping onto a chair, your eyes closing.

“So tired,” you murmur, your head nestling into your arms, ready to fall asleep. “I didn’t sleep much last night?”

“Why’s that?”

“Stupid boyfriend,” you mumbled.

It had been three days since you had last been in the office, with graduation preparations, Hawks couldn’t call you out as often. But that wasn’t what he was concerned about, no. Hawks froze, replaying your words in his head like a broken record. He didn’t know you had a—

“Boyfriend?”

Those words passing his lips only made you groan louder, your head nodding, “Yeah… I’m dating Endeavor's son Shouto… for about… a year now!”

Hawks' brain went into overdrive.

A year of dating, and this was the first he’s ever heard of it! He had been your mentor, your boss, for three years and never before had you even mentioned a boyfriend before. Hawks lips pressed together, a looming pit of jealousy forming in his stomach. His feathers fluttered, his arms crossing.

Hawks was used to knowing everything, to being able to get what he wanted most, and he was planning on asking you out when you graduated. He had sworn his feelings had been returned; after all, who couldn’t find themselves falling for the young and hot number two hero?

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah! I can have him steal you a pair of Endeavors underwear if you want, I know you’d like that!”

Hawks looks down at your teasing face, his nose scrunching in mock disgust, “Please, I don’t need a baby stealing Endeavors underwear for me. I can get them myself!”

Your smile is warm, and Hawks watches while you pull out your phone, quickly texting something.

“What? Telling your boyfriend you made it safe and sound?”

“Actually… yeah…” you mumble while finishing up your text.

Now Hawks wasn’t evil, he knew that; he also wasn’t used to losing, because that wasn’t him. But there was something odd about the way his stomach twisted and his feathers raised at that confirmation, and the words poured from his mouth without him ever having the chance to stop them.

“Does he make you text him?”

You nod, a grateful smile on your face when you drop your phone. “Isn’t it sweet? I think it’s… why are you making that face?”

“What face?” Hawks fluttered his eyes, mock innocence for the first time not sitting correctly on his face.

“That one, Hawks!” you laughed, throwing your case at him. “The one that looks like when I stole your chicken leftovers.”

Hawks snorted, and he shook his head, deciding to walk out of his office to begin his daily routine; after all, these morning conversations were apart of said routine.

“I don’t know... He knows you’re strong and that you’re here with me, and yet he doesn’t trust that you’ll get here? Or is it in a controlling sense?”

“W-What?”

Hawks turned around and looked at you, your eyebrows scrunched, eyes looking down at your phone.

But when your eyes rose to meet his, Hawks simply smiled, his head shaking.

“Never mind!”

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It didn’t stop there. No Hawks had officially lost his brains with how he was approaching this. Everything out of his mouth concerning your boyfriend was bitter, foul, and implementing lies in your mind. A desperate attempt to get you to feel like Shouto wasn’t good enough that he was manipulating you and Hawks watched while you carefully danced to his tune, your frown deepening with every sweet lie that rolled off his lips.

“I’m hanging out with him and his siblings tonight!” you announced after the day at work was done.

Your smile was bright once more, a day on the field improving your mood. Hawks nodded his head, remembering how the Todoroki siblings were good people, and how you also had siblings.

“His siblings too?”

“Yup!” you nod. “I’ve gotten to know his siblings really well! They’re really great! We go over so often, and I like to believe that I’m close with his family now!”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” Hawks smiles, his head tilting to the side. Faux innocence. “How about your family? Is Todoroki close with your family?”

Your jaw opens, and your head drops, your head guilty shaking no. “It’s a bit harder for that to happen, and he met them once and well… it didn’t go too well.”

Hawks eyes widen, his hand rubbing the back of his head with a heavy sigh, “Ah, I see… don’t you think that’s weird?”

“Um… no, not really?”

“Well, as an outsider, and your friend, Imma have to tell you that it’s weird. It sounds like he doesn't like your family? He’s not trying to control you, is he? Not trying to isolate you from them, right?”

Your teeth dig into your lower lip, and Hawks watches with over bubbling joy at the doubt and realization growing on your face. He was hitting the right nerves.

“I-It’s okay!” you chirp, your feet dragging against the floor while you move to leave. “It's probably not that!”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Another movie outing with his friends?”

“We’re watching the newest All Might documentary, it’s not like it's a banger!”

“Todoroki just never seems to care to include your friends or do things with your friends. It seems like he’s trying to keep you confide in his friend group.”

“My friends haven’t… they haven’t said anything?”

“Who would? You’re dating the most powerful son of the number one hero, no one would dare to speak up against him, especially if he told them to stay away from you.”

“That doesn’t sound like Shouto…”

“I mean, Todoroki is jealous of the way that your family loves you, and that’s why you’re always with his family. I don’t see any reason why he wouldn’t keep you from your friends too?”

“Oh…”

“You don’t have to believe me, of course! I’m sure he’s a great kid, after all, he did choose you to be his girlfriend.”

You scoff, shoving Hawks with your shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Nah, you’re amazing, y/n, and you should know it.”

“Mkay, pigeon, egg off.”

“Oof, I’m so scared!”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Your world spun, and you crashed onto your back with a low groan, jolts of nervous energy coursing through your nerves while you remained pinned to the floor. Hawks stared at you from above, his jacket long since discarded, and his hands grasping your wrists while he straddled you.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve been able to pin you since you were sixteen!” Hawks laughed, but he immediately took notice in the way you were grimacing.

You didn’t do that often, but you weren’t done yet. Shifting your weight up and over, quickly, you managed to pin Hawks to the ground, his head bouncing against the matted floor with a groan of dismay on his skin. Your nose was brushing against his, his warm breath expelling gently against your face. No! You pulled away suddenly, your heart in your throat at the nearly intimate contact. But it was too much movement on your own end because your body screamed at you.

Your breathing was shallow, a feeble attempt to calm the pulsating pain that traveled through your nerves.

“What is it?”

“I was sparring Shouto last night,” you mutter, feeling Hawks’ fingers immediately searching your skin for injuries. “You know how he sucks at close range combat, but he must’ve been practicing with Bakugou and Deku because he’s never been able to land hits like that…”

With your jacket pooling from your shoulder, Hawks fingers traced over the bruises that colored your skin. Ugly purple, green, and yellow all over. You hissed when he applied pressure to one, and you flinched, getting off of him.

“Are you sure this was sparring and him not beating you?!”

“I would know the difference between sparring and an ass beating,” you groaned, your eyebrow scrunching while he took you in more. “Besides, you should see how he is. I still won!”

You were silent Hawks words ringing heavy in your ears.

Did Shouto… was this a sign that he wasn’t who you thought he was?

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Shouto?” you whispered, your knuckles rapping at the door, hopeful he was in his room. “Are you in?”

You heard the sound of footsteps against the floor and watched the door open. There Shouto stood, wearing black sweatpants and a white tank he leaned against the door. Your eyes caught sight of the black bruises against his skin courteous of your sparring last night.

“Y/n?” he expresses with a pleasant surprise. Shouto’s hand reaches for yours, but you flinch away, stopping him in his tracks. “Are you okay?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your head nodding, “Sorry, long day, and um, I’m still sore from yesterday…”

“Yesterday? Ohh~ what happened yesterday?” You watched with the smallest amount of amusement when Sero revealed himself, his arm thrown around Shouto’s shoulder with a stack of manga in his hands.

“We spared, why?” Shouto asked with that perfect density that Sero stammered, unable to recover from Shouto’s lack of an appropriate response.

“Boring, anyways, I’ll bring these back soon, I promise!”

You and Shouto bid Sero goodnight, and with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Shouto looked back down at you.

“Care to come in?”

“I would.”

You sat on Shouto tatami, your knees bent with your arms wrapped around them while he rummaged around.

“Here, I made some healing ointment for the bruises,” Shouto said, placing the white container on your knees while he sat in front of you. “I know that even though you won, my kicks probably hurt like a bitch.”

“The biggest bitch,” you agreed, watching while he unscrewed the ointment and began to delicately place the salve on your skin. It immediately cooled down the warm skin, and you studied his face while he did so. His touch was gentle, almost too soft for someone as battle-ready as himself. But he was on a mission to make you feel better, and for every bruise he covered, he apologized.

Soon enough, every bruise was covered, and you didn’t even realize you were crying until Shouto’s eyes widened when he noticed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you not trust me?” you ask, the days worth of anxiety that Hawks had been instilling into you, finally pouring from your lips.

“What?!”

“It’s just… with the texting you where I am, and who I’m with even when you know before I leave! A-And how about my family? I always go with your family, but the one time you met mine, it was disastrous! And then you never w-want to hang out with my friends! And you were so hard on me during sparring last night… Did you want to hurt me?! Why are you trying to isolate me?! Are you trying to control me?! You’re a powerful person Shouto a-and with your dad being the most powerful person I just… are you forcing people away from me?!” Tears poured from your eyes, your sleeves rubbing away the tears on your face, the ointment gathering on the fabric,

Shouto instantly reached out to you, but you shifted away from him, your face burning with embarrassment from your outburst. You wanted Hawks to be wrong, Shouto was good. He was an idiot, but he was a good boyfriend. Please prove him wrong, you thought. Please.

“Is that how you feel?” Shouto asked, his voice quiet but steady. His hand was pressed against the duvet, centimeters from your side. Not touching you, but giving you the ability to reach him when you were ready. “I just… I’ve never done this before, you know that. Y/l/n y/n, you are someone that I am way too lucky to have in my life. I asked what are boyfriend appropriate things to do from my classmates, and I guess I might have been overdoing it myself. I ask for a text because I want to make sure you get places okay. I know you’re powerful and can take on anyone, but it’s because you’re powerful; it makes you a target to villains. I honestly thought you liked my siblings a lot, so I wanted to keep you with them because if they’re your friends, you deserve to see them. I am sorry about your family, but they are assholes, and you know that.

“But if you want to go visit and hang out with them more — with or without me — I would never stop you! I know I can’t keep blaming myself for being new to all of this a year into our relationship, but I didn’t know it was appropriate to invite your friends to hang out with us when we were with my friends. I thought they wouldn’t want to hang out with us guys. I also know you enjoy your alone time, and you tend to spend alone time with your friends, and I never want to intrude. I am so sorry for making you feel this way.”

“No,” you sniffle, your tears turning from one of sadness to those of guilt. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” he whispers, his fingers brushing against yours ever so gently. “It’s my fault you felt like I was isolating you, controlling you. You don’t have to forgive me, but if you’re willing to give me a chance to prove myself that I can change, I’d like that.”

There wasn’t stopping the way that you threw yourself into his arms, your tears soaking his neck, and he pressed gentle after gentle kiss against your temple until you were no longer crying.

For the first time in your relationship, you spent the night, and against what you had previously thought, the two of you did nothing more than embrace in a wet lip-lock.

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Graduation finally came around, and to say the least, you were excited.

Finally, you were now a Pro Hero — well, really a sidekick, but that didn’t matter! The entire day you spent it on campus, watching the graduation ceremony take place with your classmates at your side. Tears were shed, photos were taken, and the end of your high school career came to a close.

Due to your accomplishment, something that wasn’t at all doubted in the first place, Hawks had thrown Tokoyami and you a large party in celebration. You were, after all, the first students to have gone through his agency for all three years of high school, and he deemed that celebratory worthy.

With such an occasion and countless years ahead of you to be on your top tier game, it was to no surprise that you were letting loose at this party. And yes, by letting loose, you meant being drunk.

Me: shoutoooo baby i loe you oh so much

Shouto: I love you too, make sure you get water to drink and don’t have an empty stomach.

Me: i had dinnerr with you remeber !!!! no empty stomach here!!!!!

Me: im sorry for crying that night that was so dumb of me to being insecure about

Shouto: you should still be eating more if you’re planning on drinking more. And it’s okay, it’s equally my fault as it is yours.

You stared at the text, your vision slightly blurry while you imagined just what you would do with Shouto soon. You bit your lip with a grin, but with a sudden loss of balance, you stumbled back into someone.

“Oops, sorry!” you yelled louder than you expected, turning around to greet whoever you had run into. You saw a familiar face with a bird head standing there with his arms outreached to balance your stumbling form. “Tokoyami-kun! I didn’t know you were still here!!! I would’ve taken a shot with you! Oh my god, I LOVE your jacket! Where did you get it!”

Tokoyami smiled, his head nodding, “I happened to have it lying around, although I can’t remember where I cross paths with it, to begin with. And I couldn’t forsake you by leaving before you were ready. It’ll be pleasant to have you around all the time with Hawks starting in a few days.”

You nodded your head, your hands stretching out in an attempt to respond animatedly, but yelped when you slapped someone instead.

“OH, NO! Did I hurt you?! I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, turning to the second person you had hit in a matter of minutes.

It was Hawks.

“It seems she is quite inebriated,” Tokoyami pointed out, and you nodded in agreement.

“I am!”

Hawks chuckled, his head shaking, “Imma take her back to my place then, she’s a disaster in the making if we let her stay here.”

There wasn’t room for debate because you were suddenly in his arms and waving goodbye to Tokoyami, your sense of judgment gone.

“Take me hoooomeeee,” you sang into Hawks's ear when he soared into the night sky, and much to your amusement, Hawks continued your song.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Shouto sat in the common room, his eyes shifting to check his phone every so often. He knew you were drunk, that had been very clear the moment you called him only twenty times pretending to not be you while slurring your sentences. Nothing was stopping the uneasy feeling in his chest after you had explained yourself and your feelings that one night, he had put together that Hawks liked you. But without definite proof, he didn’t want to claim such things.

And while he had no doubts about your ability to protect and defend yourself, there was no saying if that was true if you weren’t sober. Hell, he’s fought you sleepy once, and there was a significant difference between you being alert and you being exhausted.

Regardless, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he heard something back from you, and with his classmates currently celebrating the end of the year by playing video games, he was there alongside them.

“I’ve returned,” Tokoyami called from the entrance, and Shouto turned around to see the bird head man walking to approach the gathering of the few remaining classmates in front of the common room's TV. He said his greetings before coming to rest by Shouto’s side. “The party was a bit too loud, but I think you would have enjoyed entertaining it.”

“It’s your guys night,” Shouto shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t need to be there when it was her work friends. How is she doing?”

“Ah, well you see,” Tokoyami nodded his head, his fingers raking through his black hair, “She was quite drunk, so Hawks-san took her back to his place to sober up, most likely spend the night at his place — Todoroki?!”

Shouto had no idea why bitter fire raged in his chest; all he knew is that for the first time ever while he slipped on his shoes and his jacket, he pulled up a contact he didn’t expect he would be using so casually.

“Shouto?!”

“Do you know where Hawks lives, Endeavor?”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Are you feeling better?” Hawks asks you, taking the bottle of water from your hands.

The low sparks of the alcohol that had once been coursing through your body had simmered into slow pulses. You knew you weren’t one hundred percent sober, but you were sober enough to realize that you should have asked Hawks to take you to the dorms instead.

“If you’re asking if I’m no longer sloppy… you’re in luck,” you sigh, a tired grin spreading on your face while you reach for your phone. You frown, seeing that it was dead, but it didn’t matter much; you would get home without it being alive anyways. “Thanks for sobering me up; I think you could have done it back at the party, though.”

Hawks snorted, his head tilting up, his head in thought. “I definitely could have done that, but I didn’t want you taking shots in secret while trying to sober you up.”

“I’m sure you could handle me just fine.”

“The last thing I can remember is that you are physically stronger than me and if you’re drunk… well, I was scared you’d kill me by accident.”

“Haha,” you laugh sarcastically, your eyes rolling in your amusement.

Silence overtook you both, and your gaze fell to your hands. You wanted to ask him why he was so insistent on Shouto being toxic, and how he did a 180 the second you told him about how the two of you talked things through.

“Did you want me and Shouto to break up?” you ask quietly, unsure of what you wanted him to answer. “I keep thinking of everything, and that’s the only thing that makes sense to me and all the controlling business…”

Hawks stared at you, his eyes void of all emotion, and yet you felt like he was more open to you than he had even been before. His mouth moved to answer, but there was a knock at his door.

With a heavy sigh, Hawks rose to his feet, “I don’t think I should answer your question.”

So there you sat, his once comfortable couch feeling stiff and hard.

“Y/l/n?” Shouto’s voice rang through the apartment, and your eyes widened. You got up off the couch, your head pounding just slightly while you clamored to the front door. There you saw Shouto staring down at Hawks, how funny it was that your eighteen-year-old boyfriend was taller than a twenty-seven years old Pro Hero.

“Tokoyami told me you were here, and I wouldn’t want to bother a busy hero with taking care of my girlfriend when I can do that myself,” Shouto spoke, his eyes narrowing down onto Hawks as the words my girlfriend let his tongue. But it also sent a shiver down your spine, a coursing ember that had been ignored this night, reigniting it once more.

You were ready, you realized when his blue and grey eyes found yours.

“Thanks for tonight, Hawks,” you wheeze, grabbing your shoes at the door and quickly pulling them on. “I’ll see you in the office in two days!”

With nothing more to say, you grabbed Shouto by his wrist and pulled him away.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The campus was quiet when you arrived, the day of excitement having long since simmered down as the clocks read two in the morning. This would be your last night in your dorm, most of your classmates had chosen to move out today as well, but with no one to help you out while you were at the party, you decided to stay one more night. But with the way your blood was pumping, and how you could feel the jealousy coursing through Shouto’s veins, you wanted to get back to your room as quickly as possible.

Entering the dorm building that was made for your class, you felt Shouto pulling his hand from yours, obviously ready to begin his goodnight routine.

Shouto’s hands grasped your cheeks, fingers hot against your cold skin, and his eyes staring down at you. Millions of emotions coursed through his gaze, but you were focused on the one that spoke of his love for you. His lips pressed down against yours, and you met him in full earnest. His lips pulling against yours, sending fire through your body, sensations that sparked only the familiar excitement you had always denied in the past. You could practically taste his unspoken anger and jealousy on his tongue, and it only made you crave more from him.

You were ready.

“Goodnight,” Shouto whispers against your lips softly, and you laugh. Your hands move up to cup his cheeks, and he pulls you in closer, his hands firmly placed onto your lower back. “I’ll come to your room in the morning to help you pack up.”

“Stay the night,” you say softly, your teeth tugging at your lower lip that was warm from his efforts. “I’m ready.”

Shouto’s eyes widened, his eyebrow lifting slightly, “You want to fuck?”

“Don’t say it like that!” you groan, pinching his cheeks in your embarrassment. But his eyes were bright, and the next thing you knew, you were being lifted into the air, and your legs found their place around his waist. “You sap!”

“Prude.”

“Say that one again, I’m finally going to let you smash, whor—”

He shut you up with a kiss.

It’s a slow kiss, one that warmed you up effortlessly, intimate contact pressing between the two of you, but nervous energy chipping through you fully. Your head tilts to the side, the kiss deepening, and your arms pulling him in closer. The two of you pull away slowly, both of your eyes slowly opening to look at each other in a whole new light and a fire under your skin, and something is silent between the two of you. Growing silently, steadily, and coming crashing down all at once.

“I love you…” Shouto murmurs, and that’s all it takes. The movements are desperate now, his steps quick and steady while your mouth clashes against his. Deep, ardent, fulfilling. You can’t help the nervously aggressive make out, tongues pushing against each out, drawing out noises you weren’t quite used to hearing. Low groans and pants you had known, but never in this context, and you were addicted. But Shouto must be thinking the same thing, for when you finally make it to your dorm room’s door, his mouth trails from your mouth. Sloppy and burning hot kisses trail down your cheek, to your jaw, before pressing searingly against your neck, and you mewl at the feel of his warm lips on your neck. Your eyes fluttering closed when his lips left hot and wet kisses on your sensitive skin.

Your lips met again, and this time you wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, and you pull him impossibly closer. His hands are moving vehemently up and down your back, making you shiver and arch against his traveling fingers. But when his nails glide delicately against an exposed piece of skin on you back, you gasped into his mouth, and the door opened loudly against his need to get to your bed.

A soft giggle leaves your lips when darkness falls against your closed eyes, and your hips shift in your state of need. Only that you weren’t expecting to feel him tremble under your actions or the pleasurable hiss that passed to your lips. your eyes opening to see Shouto’s eyes still closed despite the fact he was walking with you.

“I love you so much,” you whisper into his ear when you pull away from the kiss. Your fingers raking through his hair, your teeth nibbling onto his earlobe, his throaty groan a sign of victory. “Thank you for being wonderful.”

Shouto’s lips are back on yours, greedily seeking more contact, and you don’t hold back as you kiss him back with equal fervor. You feel the mattress of your bed hit your back as you continue to kiss him, sitting up so you could crawl back to let Shouto onto the bed with you. You smile once again as Shouto’s hand rests on the bed frame behind you, while the other one rests on the small of your back, keeping your torsos pressed together.

Your hands are fisted into Shouto’s hair, the small tugs from your hand blazing his own blood, making him press his growing length against your thighs, and his tongue grazes your bottom lip. You moan softly, your head tilting up, and you open up your mouth so that your tongues meet halfway. You start moving to unbutton your graduation outfit, and Shouto hastily pulls away, and your eyes open, his mouth is stained with your the leftovers of your makeup, and he looks concerned.

“Are you sure, y/n?” Shouto asks, his hands stroking your side. His gaze is intense, unmoving, and challenging. “If you’re not ready for this, I won’t be hurt.”

You stared at him, a soft smile coming to your lips as you sit up, making Shouto sit on his haunches while you move to your knees, “I always knew I wanted my first time to be with you, I just wanted the moment to be perfect… and this is perfect to me,” you confess to Shouto, and you watch his eyes soften when you press a soft kiss to his lips.

Pulling away, you stripped of your clothes and dropped it on the floor next to the bed, your breath hitching as Shouto stares at your now only lingerie-clad body, and you blush.

“Shit, you’re beautiful,” Shouto murmurs like a man who had seen something divine for the first time ever.

Your heart roars in your chest, your blood pulsating through your sensitive body while he leans in close. His mouth presses against the swell of your breasts, trailing down to the valley between your mounds. Your body quivers in your overwhelming emotions and sensations. Shouto presses you back onto the mattress, his calloused hands pressing right below your breasts, heating emitting in large waves from both hands, making your mind spin in needy desperation.

“Are you okay?” Shouto murmurs, his lips feeling the gentle movements of your body.

“I am,” you breathe, your eyes shut tightly. You wanted to feel his lips and forget everything else in the world. This was a night of passion, and you’d be damned if your anticipation was going to stop you. “Don’t stop.”

A low chuckle vibrated against his throat, sending gentle waves through you, and you moaned the second his fingers pressed against your breasts. Shouto’s hands worked your breasts tentatively, his eyes studying your flushed face while he kneaded the tender flesh.

“F-Fuck,” you moaned when his finger brushed against your erect and clothed nipple, your hips quivering underneath him.

“Did that feel good?” Shouto hums, and when you confirm his thoughts, coldness hits your chest. Your eyes open to see that he’s discarded your bra and that his lips are millimeters from your breasts. “Do you want me to do more to you?”

The words are curious, but you don’t miss the glint in his eye, but he’s long since knocked the air from your lungs.

“I need to hear your words, princess,” Shouto smiles softly, his warm breath fanning against your erect nipples that cried for attention. “What do you say?”

“P-Please…” you breathe, your body squirming in your denied attention.

“Perfect.”

The feeling of his hot and wet mouth encasing your nipple sent you impossibly over the moon, your body arching off the bed, a lament cry heavy on your mouth while his tongue circled and flicked your nipple. His eyes were on you, you could feel his stare burning into your body, but you couldn’t even see, your eyes closed in your throbbing pleasure.

More, you wanted more.

His finger pinched your free nipple, pulling and rolling the pert skin between his fingers, your wanton cries only fueling him further. Liquid heat coursed through your veins, your pleasurable sensations overwhelming you, and your hips began to hump against his clothed thigh. The friction of his jeans against your barely clothed cunt sending you well beyond the confinements of pleasure.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “I love you,” he confesses. “You’re gorgeous,” he repeats.

Tender and sweet words fill your ears while he switches where his mouth and hands are. The kneading of your breasts, the manipulation of your nipples, and the way his thigh pressed against your throbbing cunt was sending you over.

Your breathing was unsteady, puffs escaping your lips in an overwhelming and failed attempt to calm yourself down. Shouto was on a mission, however, and his mouth removed from your cool breast with a soft pop, your breasts shining with the coats of saliva, and you shivered.

Shout hummed while he lips pressed the sensitive underside of your breasts, and continued downward, gentle after gentle kiss down your torso, until he made contact with your trembling inner thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his fingers toying with the band of your panties. You can barely hear him over the roar of your heart, but you know what he says, and you nod. He smiles kindly, placing one final kiss to your thigh before pulling off your panties.

Instinctively, your legs try to close, nerves firing away, but Shouto keeps your legs wide open, and his mouth lowers towards your dripping cunt. His tongue takes a languid and slow lick. His tongue slipping between your slit and you arch off the mattress. Your eyes fluttering in their battle to stay open, the addicting sensation of his hot tongue against your equally hot core burning you.

Your legs tremble as he thrusts his tongue within your clenching wet walls, swirling in circles and pushing further in. His fingers thrust into you at an amble speed, aiding to your pleasure sent descent on the mattress. On one lick, one godly irresistibly mind-numbing lick, your thighs come crashing against his head. Shouto’s free hand moves to grip onto your trembling legs. His tongue coaxing your orgasm closer to the edge by speaking a language you knew nothing of.

“S-Shouto!” you curse, your hips rolling desperately against his mouth. Your hips were stammering against his compelling tongue.

Your eyes struggle to remain locked on his eyes, your body twitching with the building pleasure. The electricity igniting in your flesh and bloodstream. You can hear the sounds of your squelching pussy against his moving fingers, and your jaw drops. You’re under his absolute control, and you’re no longer able to hold back anymore, your orgasm is right on edge, but you stop him.

“Wait!” you push him off of you, your chest heaving, and the wet arousal pouring from your cunt was slick against his mouth, and confusion evident on his face. “I don’t want to… I want to cum on your cock.”

“Okay,” Shouto pants with amusement, and you watched when his fingers — which were coated in your essence — slipped into his mouth, sucking it clean. The image of that sent electrifying pleasure through you, and your mouth watered at the thought of sucking him off. “What is it?”

“Get up,” you command, your hands moving to remove the belt around his waist, and he was quick to stand on your bed, and you were on your knees. Your knees buck under your weight, and you help Shouto remove his pants. You watch in an almost lusting virgin horror when his cock springs out from under his underwear. The hard cock slaps against his lower stomach, and you take in the way that his cock is thick, with bulging veins, and precum leaking from his head.

There was no going back, it seemed.

Steeling yourself over, you wait for his feet to be free, and the moment he’s out of his jeans, your hands immediately encompass his length. His girth wide enough you struggled to hold it with one hand. You marveled at the way the skin was unearthly warm and impossibly hard in your grip. This is what was going to be buried in your cunt in moments time?

“Y-Y/n…” Shouto stutters as your hand fists up and down his length in initial unknowing movement. Your eyes snapping up to meet his lust covered ones.

“Now,” you sigh as your thumb rolls over the pre-cum that slips from the tip of his head. “You can’t make fun of me if I’m bad, okay?”

Shouto licks his lips, his eyebrow quirking. “I don’t think that’s possible from you, princess.”

You smile softly, but there’s a strong sense of hope when you notice the tremble in his legs, “We’ll see!”

Licking your lips, your mouth opens, and you let the head of his cock press pass your lips. The dark pink head is hot in your mouth, and your tongue presses against the flat of his head, swirling your tongue around, testing his reaction. By the fluttering of his eyes, and the way that his hands seem to fight whether they should latch onto your hair, you reckon it’s okay.

So, you push on ahead, moving further down his impressive cock. His girth so full you had to open wider than you were used to. You gasp as you push him further down your throat. Your eyes flashing up to see Shouto struggling to keep his head down and eyes on you.

Good god, you pray you were wet enough to take him in without lube.

Your mouth sinks down as far as you can go while not choking yourself. Your fingers trailing up and down his toned thighs as you move your head up and down his length. You’re now in a smooth rhythm, bobbing up and down on his cock with enough vigor to make Shouto praise your name.

Your movements signal to Shouto that he can move as well. Shouto groans, and his hips move forward. You relax against his rocking hips, you’re focused on your breathing as his cock moves up and down your throat. Deeper and deeper, you feel his cock move within you. His hand pressing against the back of your neck, and you gag softly against his length.

Your eyes look back up to see Shouto’s eyes closed. Moans and pants spilling out with every thrust, and your cheeks hollow out. Creating a vacuum sensation against his length.

“Oh shit!” Shouto snaps. His hands tangling within your locks as he struggles to not overwhelm you. “You’re amazing, of course, you would be good at this,” he gasps as his cock only goes further down your throat.

You struggle to breathe with his thrusting. His snapping hips overwhelming you with their speed and depth. He’s distracted while he fucks your throat, but you’re even more desperate to keep up. Uncaring about the burning sensation erupting through your airway as he continues at his strength and speed. Your tongue swirls around his thrusting cock. Trailing against his veins as his hips stutter, and your teeth dragging against the sensitive skin.

You moan against his length. The action allowing you to gain more air and sending a loud moan from Shouto’s mouth as his pace increases.

His hips abuse your throat, and you’re delighted in the fact that you’re keeping up. The soft gags that occasionally slip from your mouth, stirring him on. He’s sinful yet heavenly in your mouth, and you want him in your dripping cunt. Your thighs shaking with the mere thought of him having his way with you.

He pulls his length away from your mouth. Your saliva stringing between your mouth and his still erect cock. You cough as you try taking in the air again, the lack of oxygen had been ignored as your pleasure was so high.

“N-Not yet,” Shouto staggers, and you nod in agreement, watching him sink back to the bed.

“Take it off,” you mutter tugging at the hem of Shouto’s t-shirt, and he moves to take it off.

With your teeth tearing into your lower lip, you watch him remove the dark shirt. Shouto’s body had to be a sin while you stared at the rippling muscles on his body, something you had never truly appreciated before. They moved with his body, the faint scars littering his body for you to kiss and count later.

Tone and lithe. He was beautiful.

Shouto’s lips are back on yours as you kiss deeply, your head tilted to the side as his fingers gently grasp your chin. A shaky moan leaves your mouth at the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue, and Shouto moves his body so that you’re now on your back. The tips of your aroused nipples brush up against Shouto’s naked chest, and both of your release a throaty gasp as you pull him closer to you.

Your bodies were overshot with denied pleasure, and the mountaining need for more was finally being addressed.

Your leg hooks lazily around Shouto’s waist, and a sigh leaves your lips as Shouto gently grasps the back of your leg, running steady, consistent strokes from the end of your thigh to your ass.

A fire is building up in your gut as your hands work their way down to the buttons and zipper of his pants. His hands gripping your waist, and you could feel Shouto’s arousal pressing against your stomach, hot and throbbing with need. You pulled away from Shouto and giggled as he attempted to follow you with closed eyes as you had to brush your hair out of your face, suddenly feeling hot.

“Y/n…” Shouto just about whined, and you smiled softly at him, finding it endearing and the slightest bit hot when he used that tone.

His hands were on your breasts, slowly stimulating your aroused nipples as he slowly massaged them, making sure to brush your nipple with his thumb every so often, and your head tossed back as you bite down hard on your lower lip. He once again kissed you ever so lovingly, and you felt him pulling away to line his cock with your entrance. You watch with hooded eyes as Shouto presses the head into you, teasing the both of you to extreme lengths, and you wantonly sighed.

You rest on your elbows, a smile on your face as Shouto moves his messy hair out of his eyes. As you stare at his slightly sweaty face covered by strands of different colored hair, your heart just about bursts.

“Make love to me, Shouto,” you say aloud as Shouto stares at you, his cock removing from your entrance and carted against your clit.

“I plan on it,” he smiles, and he grabs your ankle, pulling you closer to him, and you shriek with laughter until his lips engulf your sounds. “Are you ready?” Shouto asks once more, teasing your entrance with the tip of his dick.

“Whenever you are,” you whisper into his neck, preparing for the initial pain.

You let out a cry of pleasure and pain as he slowly enters you, and you pant heavily, trying to contain your tears as he manages to push all the way in. Your eyes clench as you bit your lip, your head buried into his neck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry as he stretches you out. Shouto is panting too at the feeling of your tight walls clenching against him, they’re unable to relax against his cock. It’s not until the head of his cock hits the wall of your cervix does he stop, and even then he’s not entirely in you.

Your breathing is harsh, and you feel like you’re sweating as you look down at the now joined body. The feeling of him entirely in you makes your head spin, the pressure in your lower belly could be from just Shouto within you or from your slowly growing orgasm, you had no idea.

“Are you o-okay?” Shouto stutters very clearly still adjusting to having his cock in you.

“Yeah, just… trying not to die,” you manage to croak out, and eventually, you collapse onto the bed, looking up at Shouto, who seems to be concentrating hard.

“You’re just super t-tight,” Shouto gasps as you wrap a leg around his waist.

It’s a good move, but it’s too quick as a sharp pleasure pained fire shoots through you as you slam your forehead against his shoulder.

“Too fast,” you snap in regret you try to calm your head. This was too much for you, you felt like every nerve was firing all at once on your inner wall, and no orgasm had reached you yet.

“It’s okay… breathe...”

It takes a few moments, but sure enough, you manage to raise your leg to his waist, and both of you moan at the new level of penetration and the way it made your walls clench around him. “Move,” you command, and Shouto falls onto his forearms as he nods.

Shouto moves his hips back, and slowly almost painfully slow, returns them to the original position, and even with the smallest movement, a lewd moan escapes your lips. Shouto continues going in and out, his hips slowly moving while you start to meet him with every thrust.

Whispers of encouragement escape both your lips as his slow thrusting continues.

Shouto picks up your legs so that they’re both wrapped around his waist, and he comes to lean over you. At the new angle, your head is thrown backward, and you let out a string of soft curses. “Shit, that feels so good,” you cry out in encouragement as you bit down on your lip harshly.

Your lips are soon sought after by Shouto’s as sheen layers of sweat cover both your bodies as the consistent moving of both your hips never falters.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit, you feel so good,” Shouto grunts, his hips picking up in speed as he drills into you faster, the sound of your meeting sweaty bodies echoing in your room.

Soon you can hear the sounds of your bed hitting the wall, and a cry escapes your lips as Shouto’s finger grazes your clit.

“Say my name…” Shouto grunts as he presses harder on your clit, and you can feel the coil within you getting tighter, but at the moment, all you can give is wordless cries. “Say it, y/n.”

“S-Shouto!” you scream out as you shake with an overwhelming need to climax, but Shouto’s finger leaves your clit and goes to keep your hands above your head.

“Are you enjoying this?” Shouto teases as he slams into you at full force again, your cunt tightening sinfully against his length, electricity coursing through your veins while you cry his name. “You’re so good, shit.”

“Oh my god, yes, Shouto!” your voice splutters, and his hands leave your wrist to gently pinch your nipple and clit. You go speechless, and your mind spins as he pulls one of your legs onto his shoulder, and all you can do is let your jaw drop as the new position lets you see stars.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved entirely within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, princess?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh at the back of his neck. You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. He wasn’t going too fast, just fast enough to have wet smacks echoing through the room, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. He pulled out entirely so he would have the ability to drill back into your wet cunt. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.

“I needa cum,” you shriek, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the spastic vice-like clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he moans, his mouth connecting with your breast, and once again slams into you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.

The bed creaks loudly under you, headboard crashing into the wall, over and over again.

“Cum, baby,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Cum..”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto collapses onto you at the same time the bed falls. Neither one of you reacts as gravity shifts you both slightly downwards, but your mind is too full of Shouto to care. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.

He pulls out of you gently, and the feeling of his cock no longer in you makes you whimper, your nose burying into his neck as he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

“That was…” you mumble, your mind unable to think straight.

“Something?”

You snort, your head nodding.

“Yeah… something…”

“I love you, y/n,” Shouto whispers against your temple, and you sigh, contentness and warmth flooding your aching body.

“I love you, too.”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years ago

Text

For We Are Afar With the Dawning: A RQG Fic

Also on AO3. Contains spoilers for Episode 207.

Augusta is floating. Both literally and metaphorically.

Mentally, she’s floating on a peachy-pink cloud of euphoria and warmth and happiness and contentment. It’s an absolutely perfect day, the kind of day she never gets to experience anymore. The sky is a clear blue dotted with puffy white clouds, the sun bright enough to illuminate the scene but not so bright to hurt the eyes, and it’s pleasantly warm without being oppressively hot. The gentle, cooling breeze brings with it the faint scents of something floral; Augusta’s never been all that great with scents per se, but she thinks it might be roses or something.

Physically, she’s in a rowboat in the middle of a glassy lake, lying on her back with her arms folded contentedly over her chest and her head resting on a lap that seems to mostly comprise of white illusion. Augusta herself is wearing a loose-fitting lawn shirt and a pair of trousers, her feet bare. A pair of oars rest in the locks on either side, but nobody is using them.

“You know, Gus, I think you’re going to have a curly crop when this grows out a bit.” Delicate fingers run through Augusta’s delightfully short hair. “You’re going to look quite rakish.”

“Just so you don’t try to get me to wear one of those dreadful outfits you were talking about that boy wearing in your book.” Augusta smiles. “Really, Lou, where’d you come up with that? Nobody actually dresses like that.”

Louisa laughs. “I wanted it to be really clear that there was no way Jo would ever fall in love with him. Why would she love someone who dresses like that?”

“You should have given one of the girls who came to the Christmas play a name,” Augusta says. “And a personality. And a reason to come back.”

“Are you suggesting I should have put you in the book after all? I thought you didn’t like publicity, O Best Beloved.”

“I don’t like being tied to my brother. Being tied to you is different.” Augusta punctuates this by reaching up and twirling a strand of Louisa’s dark hair around a finger.

Louisa swats her hand away, but she’s laughing again. “Are you going to row us back to shore at any point? Mary and Emma should be here soon. Your Sasha was going to take the carriage and go get them.”

“She’s not my Sasha,” Augusta protests.

“She could be, if you asked, I’m sure. You know we’re all just yours for the asking.”

“Oh, stop it. That’s not how this works.”

“You can’t tell me the idea doesn’t appeal to you,” Louisa says relentlessly. “Having your own personal harem of beautiful and brilliant women. Mary for those delightful scientific discussions and Emmuska for solving puzzles and mysteries and Sasha for going on daring adventures and robbing tombs with and me for...well, when you want to be lazy and bored, I suppose.”

“Louisa May Alcott.” Augusta sits up and takes both of Louisa’s hands in hers. “You have no idea how happy I am. Right here. With you. I don’t need anyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Sasha and Mary and Emmuska and I love having them around...and you’re right, Sasha’s so much fun to go poking around places we aren’t wanted with. But if none of them were here, I’d be happy just the same. Maybe more so. Being with you?” She brings Louisa’s hands up and kisses them tenderly. “This is perfect.”

Louisa blushes beautifully, but there’s a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to row back to shore.”

Augusta laughs. “You wound me. Right here.” She places one hand over her heart.

She’s joking, but suddenly, it feels like Louisa—or someone—has wounded her. There’s a sudden, sharp, stabbing pain in her heart, and the last thing she sees is Louisa’s sparkling eyes and sweet smile before the world goes white.

It resolves after a moment. Now instead of sitting in a boat, Augusta is sitting on a rock in a clearing in a verdant forest. Looking up, she can see the night sky and the stars, so many stars, more than she’s ever seen, and the sweep of the Milky Way looks almost green. The moon shines down on the clearing and illuminates her.

Augusta looks down at herself. She’s wearing more practical clothes now—boots, trousers, tunic, leather jacket—actually, it’s a lot like what Sasha Rackett wore when Augusta first met her, nearly two years ago now, except newer and neater. Across her lap is a well-made crossbow.

A big beast swoops overhead, one Augusta can’t identify (she grew up in a city and the only kind of hunting really considered proper for young ladies of her station was foxhunting). A moment later, there’s a rustle in the undergrowth, and a figure pops out into the clearing, a short figure with outsize ears and a drawn bow.

“Wotcher,” the figure says. “Seen a big beastie go by here?”

“It went that way,” Augusta says, pointing the direction she saw the beast fly. “What is it?”

The hunter—she presumes—shrugs. “Dunno. Still haven’t figured it out. Haven’t caught it yet. Maybe once I do, I’ll know. For now I just call it The Beast.”

He doesn’t seem particularly put out by this. He has a hunt, and what exactly he’s hunting doesn’t seem to matter much; he’ll find the answers when he finds the beast. It’s something Augusta feels an odd kinship towards. “How long have you been hunting it?”

The hunter shrugs again. “Dunno. What year is it?”

Augusta tells him. The hunter draws in a breath, then nods. “Well, then...two thousand years, give or take a couple hundred.”

“Ah.” Augusta looks around her. “We’re dead, then.”

“Probably, yeah. Well, I know I am. You probably are too. What were you doing?”

Augusta thinks for a moment. “Dreaming.”

The hunter snorts. “Not the best way to go out.”

“It’s not like I chose to go out that way. I’d rather have gone down fighting.” Augusta sighs. “At least it was a pleasant dream, though.”

She touches her chest, out of habit, and has a moment of panic when she can’t find what she’s looking for. Frantically, she scrambles at her neck until she finds the fine chain, then pulls it out and breathes a sigh of relief when the heavy silver locket lands in her palm. Just to be sure, she pops it open, and Louisa’s eyes stare back at her.

Augusta smiles back at the picture, then looks up to see the hunter staring at her inscrutably. She coughs and closes the locket. “Sorry. Just...checking.”

The hunter reaches into his own clothing and pulls out a photograph, but doesn’t show it to her—which startles Augusta, as she didn’t think photographs were that old—before putting it back. “It’s important to hold onto these things. Until you find them. Everything dies, after all.”

“That...probably shouldn’t be comforting, and yet…” Augusta takes a deep breath. “Everything does die, doesn’t it? I don’t know that this is exactly her idea of paradise, though.” Then again, she hadn’t realized it was hers, either.

The hunter shrugs. “Probably not theirs, either. But they all connect. I’ve got a camp set up.” He gestures off to one side. “Check in there every few...decades, maybe. Just to see if they’re there yet. It’ll be nice to have a home to come back to, someday, but for now...there’s the hunt.”

Augusta considers that as she tucks the locket back into her shirt, then looks down at the crossbow on her lap. “I’ve never really hunted in forests before, but I’m not bad at hunting in general.”

“I’d be willing to teach you some tactics. If you’re interested. Just until we both find what we’re looking for.”

Augusta stands up, shoulders the crossbow, and holds out her other hand. “My friends call me Gus.”

The hunter grins, red eyes sparkling, as he accepts her handshake. “Grizzop.”

~*~*~*~

Sumutnyerl soars, buoyed up by a thermal, then banks to one side and swoops low, skimming over the grass. This is their favorite form; they love to fly, and it’s a perfect day for it.

Beside them, another eagle tacks and swoops playfully, then sheers off. Sumutnyerl beats her wings to gain a bit of altitude and follows. For a moment, they race one another straight up into the air. Then the other eagle dips backwards into a loop. Sumutnyerl screeches in delight and goes into a spiraling dive, weaving around the other.

They continue this sky-dance for several minutes before the other leads up to the branches of a tree; Sumutnyerl follows and lands on a branch, then transforms back. They’re already laughing with delight. “I never get tired of that.”

“Nor should you.” Oblaitko smiles warmly, their eyes soft and kind. “The day one grows accustomed to the gifts that have been given is the day one ceases to live and begins to only exist.”

“I mean doing it with you.” Sumutnyerl looks out over the rolling meadow. “I would that we could do this forever.”

“We can,” Oblaitko answers. “Our duties are...light. And not incompatible. We needn’t go back to the town at all. You can attend to the Garden, I to the River, and we can spend the rest of our time here.”

Sumutnyerl considers. The idea is...not unwelcome. She feels an utter sense of peace here, with Oblaitko by their side. More than that, they feel like herself, like an individual and not just part of a collective.

“I would like that,” they say at last. “Very much.”

Oblaitko tucks a strand of Sumutnyerl’s hair behind their ear. “As would I.”

“A bargain, then.”

“A bargain,” Oblaitko agrees. “We can ask permission in the morning, but I hardly think the Council will object. It will save resources, after all.”

Sumutnyerl sighs and leans their head on Oblaitko’s shoulder. They place their arm around her shoulders and pull them close, one hand idly resting over their heart.

For just a second, Sumutnyerl wonders if Oblaitko is concealing a blade, because they suddenly feel a sharp, stabbing pain in their chest. They look up in shock, but there’s nothing on Oblaitko’s face to indicate they’re doing anything...and then the world goes white.

When Sumutnyerl’s vision clears, they are no longer in the branches of a tree, but somewhere else, somewhere far too familiar. Awareness settles on Sumutnyerl’s shoulders as they look around the Garden of Yerlick, but not as it is in life—currently or under ordinary circumstances. The flowers bloom as they past, trees put out their hands like old friends, and the spirits of the dead are instantly visible, smiling and calling to them.

Ah. This again.

“Sumutnyerl?”

Sumutnyerl turns and smiles again. Oblaitko stands before them once more, not in the same form as a moment ago—no longer young, their hair white, their back bent with age and the weight of their position—but their eyes are the same warm, kind brown they have always been .Right now, they are wide with shock and not a little sorrow.

“Hello, my dear friend,” Sumutnyerl says.

“Sumutnyerl,” Oblaitko says again. “Why...how are you here? Like this? You—you mustn’t. It isn’t your time.”

“Perhaps not,” Sumutnyerl agrees. They touch their heart, where the phantom pain is fading fast. “I—I believe I may have been stabbed in my sleep.” Like Nik, they think, with a mingling of regret and anger.

“You will be given another chance.” Oblaitko states this quite calmly, as if it is a given fact rather than an opinion...or a hope. “The Garden needs you. Our people need you.”

“Perhaps I shall be given the offer,” Sumutnyerl replies. “And...perhaps I will accept. But...well. There is much that has happened. Perhaps if I am not needed...perhaps if my last great task has been fulfilled after all…” They hold out their hands. “Would you allow me to stay?”

Oblaitko takes Sumutnyerl’s hands, and stares into their eyes, and no other words are necessary.

~*~*~*~

Hamid knows, on some level, that he’s dreaming, if only because Zolf isn’t really one for parties. That doesn’t stop him from being happy, though. Hamid’s sleep for the past few months has been dreamless at best, teeming with nightmares more commonly, and occasionally non-existent at worst. A part of him has started to believe he’ll never have beautiful dreams again, so the fact that this is a good dream means he’s going to enjoy it for all it’s worth.

And the others all look happy, too. Aziza sings beautifully, her eyes sparkling and face expressive, and her husband gazes on her with a proud, adoring smile. Saleh, his wife, and Hamid’s mother are listening to Oscar tell some story, gesturing dramatically with his drink, his other hand being occupied holding Zolf’s. Zolf has a faint smile on his face as he listens to a story he’s probably heard a hundred times—hell, it’s probably one he was there for, those are Oscar’s favorite stories after all—but that he never gets tired of hearing Oscar tell. Hamid’s father looks more relaxed and content than Hamid has seen him...well, ever since he started paying attention anyway, deep in conversation with Saira and Apophis. Azu, wearing the gown she and Hamid designed together for the opening of the so-called Bow Bar, is making a valiant effort at letting Ismail teach her one of the fancy dances he’s learned, while Ishaq enthusiastically does the same with Cel. Skraak and Grizzop have become fast friends, which Hamid isn’t surprised by, and he wonders what they’re talking about and if he’s going to have to help Zolf clean it up later.

Hamid dances. He loves to dance, almost as much as he loves to fly, and he doesn’t really mind that he doesn’t have a partner at the moment. As he spins, putting in one of the fanciest twirls he knows, he catches Sasha’s eye across the room and grins; she grins back and shoots him a double thumbs-up.

Hamid starts in Sasha’s direction. She’s so good on her feet, he thinks, she’ll be really good at dancing, and she’ll love it. Aziza’s just wrapping up the song she’s currently working on, and Hamid’s pretty sure she’s going to go into the aria from Act I of Carmen, which was her first leading role and one she’s quite proud of. Hamid knows with absolute certainty that Sasha will kill it at a tango.

Before he gets to her, he passes his mother and gets a kiss on the cheek. Saleh gives him a friendly poke in the chest as he passes, which actually hurts a lot more than Hamid is expecting, but he tries to laugh it off, especially as Saleh is laughing, too.

Zolf turns to face him. Letting go of Oscar’s hand, he reaches over and touches Hamid’s forehead with one thumb. He’s still smiling a little, and the look in his eyes is one he hasn’t given Hamid in a long time—not since the beach south of Calais, after they survived the storm sailing from Dover. It warms Hamid all the way to his toes.

“It won’t end this way,” he says, and while he sounds like he’s talking at an ordinary volume, Hamid somehow gets the feeling that nobody can hear Zolf’s words but him. “I won’t let it. Your heart’s too big to be destroyed by something like this.”

Hamid feels simultaneously stronger than he has in ages and like something’s being sucked out of his lungs. His wings unfurl from his back before he completely registers that the music is gone.

He blinks. Someone is holding him—it feels like Cel—and it’s dark. The memory of the lights dimming and then going out comes to him...and they’d been heading to the lab, he remembers, because of the tunnel, but what—?

Zolf’s voice comes from not very far in front of him. “Get in in the door, and get safe.”

Hamid blinks again. That’s an order, they’re in the field—he promised he would follow Zolf’s orders in the field, so even if he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, he’s going to do what he’s just been told and he can ask questions once they’re all safe. Surely Zolf will be right behind him.

He takes in a breath to acknowledge his instructions—and sucks in a lungful of sweet-smelling gas. Instantly, he drops unconscious back into Cel’s arms.

He blinks and he’s at the party again. Zolf is still standing in front of him, smiling as he turns back to the conversation—did he leave for a minute? No, surely not, Hamid’s been here the whole time, he thinks fuzzily.

The song wraps up on a triumphant sting, and there’s a smattering of polite applause, and then just as Hamid suspected, the music starts up and it’s “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle” from Carmen. He hurries over to Sasha and holds out a hand. “Sasha, come on, you’ll love this!” he cries.

Laughing, Sasha takes his hand and lets him pull her onto the ballroom floor. She’s a natural at the tango. Hamid would never have dared ask anyone else to do this dance with him; it’s a fiery dance of passion, usually, but this is Sasha and she’s just his favorite sister, as far as he’s concerned, even if she’s not his sister by blood. There’s no romance behind what they’re doing here, no heat. They’re just two kids having fun, really, laughing and taking increasingly flamboyant chances with the flashier moves.

He ends the dance by dipping her, somehow, despite the fact that she’s two feet taller than he is, but they’re both flushed and laughing and having a great time. It doesn’t even matter that they overbalance and fall onto the dance floor. Nobody’s really watching them anyway, which is just the way Hamid wants it right now. He doesn’t have to be the center of attention all the time. Not even most of the time.

“I like your wings,” Sasha says, poking one of them, and when did they come out? Hamid genuinely can’t remember. “This ‘cause you’re a Meritocrat?”

“I’m descended from a dragon,” Hamid corrects her. “I’m not a Meritocrat.”

“Good. But the wings are cool anyway. Do they work?”

“Oh! Yes. Want to see?” Hamid gets to his feet and manages—somehow—to pull Sasha up too. “I can cast fly on you and we can—”

“No,” Sasha interrupts, surprising him. She pulls him into a tight hug, and, oh, Sasha gives the best hugs. Hamid’s always suspected she would, but she’s always been iffy about being touched. If his wings hadn’t already popped out with joy—apparently—they would be bursting out now. He hugs her back just as tightly as she lifts him off the ground with the force of her embrace..

“Don’t you give up, Hamid,” she says in his ear. “Don’t you do it. There’s no dream so good it’s worth losing the whole world for. You get back out there and you fight to make the world this good. Because this right here? This is worth fighting for.”

Just a little of the euphoria peels back from the edges of Hamid’s mind, and he clings to Sasha a little tighter. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“’M always with you, mate. Just like you were always with me. We’ll meet again. But right now, you’ve got to go save the world for me.” Sasha pulls back enough to smile at him, and her eyes are wet. “Make it a good one.”

Hamid’s eyes snap open.

~*~*~*~

If you had asked Oscar even a year ago, he would never have described this as the most perfect moment of his life. He would have said that the most perfect moment he could imagine is a gala celebrating the opening of his greatest work, a play that will be talked about through the ages and mean his name lives on long after he does, resplendent in his finest clothes, a rapt audience listening to him declaim his opinions—finally being the center of attention for art instead of admin.

But no. He enjoyed that, yes, and he’s looking forward to reading the description of it in the newspapers. But the truly perfect moment is this one. Just a simple, quiet family breakfast the morning after.

Azu is at more or less the opposite side of the round kitchen table they’re using instead of the formal dining table, nursing a hangover bigger than she is; she’s got a glass of tomato juice and a cup of strong black coffee and isn’t really talking to anyone. Cel is scribbling on a piece of paper and muttering under their breath, probably trying to improve or refine the special effects they and the kobolds designed and built for the production. Zolf presides over the stove as usual, his beard done up in one of the intricate braids he only does when he’s in an especially good mood and his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Sasha stands a little way down the counter, beaming as she slices and chops meat and vegetables for him; she’s the only one Zolf allows to help him in the kitchen, and even then only on special occasions. Hamid sits to Oscar’s left, a pile of newspapers between them, his pre-breakfast snack actually half-forgotten at his elbow.

“The reviews look really good, Oscar,” he says, sounding almost as delighted as Oscar feels as he hands over the Times, folded back to the Arts page. “All the criticisms I’ve seen so far have been about the acting, not the play itself.”

“I told you to cast Barnes in the lead instead,” Zolf calls from the stove.

“Not my call, darling. I’m not the casting director.” Oscar reads the article Hamid is handing him, a broad smile blooming across his face as he reads. Hamid’s right, the reviews are glowing, and this is from a critic who’s notoriously hard to please. A particular phrase about halfway down the column catches his eye: Wilde’s masterful words and turn of phrase makes even Johnson’s leaden performance turn to the purest gold.

Turning a few pages on, Oscar opens the society page and is delighted to see that most of it has been given over to a description of the party celebrating the opening. There are even a couple of pictures accompanying the article, and Oscar very carefully folds the paper back so that one of them is more fully visible—Oscar at the center, smiling broadly and holding a drink in one hand, his other arm draped around Zolf’s shoulders, the others arrayed around him looking pleased and proud.

“Have you thought about your next project?” Cel asks, looking up from their notes.

Oscar shakes his head before Cel can launch into an elaboration of the question. “No, not yet. I think I’ll take some time to see how this one does first. It may have opened well, but that doesn’t mean it will end well.” He sighs, a bit dramatically but not entirely put-0n. “Things so rarely do.”

“Things rarely stay good the whole time they’re happening, but that doesn’t mean they won’t end well,” Azu points out. “We got here, didn’t we?”

“And you’ve earned it,” Hamid adds encouragingly. “Happy endings feel a lot better when you have to work for them.”

“Cheers to that.” Sasha tosses her knife into the air; it flips four times and then returns to her hand without her even looking at it, and she goes back to her chopping.

“Have a bit of faith, Wilde,” Zolf chides him.

Oscar smiles fondly at his dwarf as he sets aside the paper. Azu’s faith in Aphrodite is a certainty you can cut your teeth on, but Zolf’s faith in Hope is nearly contagious. Like their happy ending, Zolf has worked for his faith, he’s earned it, and it’s never betrayed him. It’s the only reason any of them are still here, really. It’s the anchor that kept Cel from spiraling with guilt, it’s the keel that steadied Azu when she doubted herself (not her god, never her god), it’s the beacon that led Sasha back to them. And it’s the only reason Oscar and Hamid are still alive, albeit with matching scars—

Wait. Where did that come from?

Shaking his head slightly, Oscar pushes away from the table and passes behind Zolf, touching him first on the shoulder, then the cheek. “I have plenty of faith, dearest. In you if nothing else.”

“Get away from my workspace,” Zolf grumbles, though without any heat.

Oscar smirks and moves down the counter towards the cutting board, ostentatiously reaching for one of the ingredients waiting to be added to whatever Zolf is preparing. Sasha jabs playfully at his chest to make him back off.

She’s too good at what she does to accidentally stab someone when she’s only pretending to, and she wouldn’t stab him, especially not with Zolf’s good tomato knife; she has too much respect for both Zolf and blades to do that. And yet, pain suddenly erupts in Oscar’s heart, as though she’s driven a blade far bigger than the serrated one she’s holding into his chest. He inhales sharply, and the world goes white.

For just a moment, it resolves itself into his flat in Paris from when he was in university, or something similar anyway, but then it swirls into a pink mist. He feels something solid holding onto him, something anchoring him firmly in reality, and warmth floods his entire being. He feels safe and protected and cherished, and it gives him strength.

His eyes open, and he finds himself lying more or less on his back. Zolf kneels next to him, one hand tenderly cradling his jaw, the other pressed to his heart, which hurts like anything.

“Wh—huh—?” Oscar tries to sit up, his mind scrambling to fit this dark and rather crowded antechamber or wherever it is they are in with the light and airy kitchen-slash-breakfast nook he remembers from just a few...moments ago? What’s going on?

Zolf’s face is pale, his blue eyes intent, and there’s a trickle of blood near his hairline that worries Oscar in a vague and distant way. But he doesn’t have time to ask about it before Zolf looks into Oscar’s eyes and says in a voice that crackles faintly with an emotion he can’t place, “Get the others out, and get safe.”

Before Oscar can question it, or protest, or even figure out what it is they’re supposed to be safe from, Zolf half-shoves, half-throws him through a door that’s barely open wide enough for him to get through. He slides a few feet until he’s able to at least drag himself on his hands and feet a little further into the room. Someone runs past him and takes hold of the door, but doesn’t close it.

Oscar blinks hard, shaking his head to clear it. There’s a sweet smell in the air and he almost sniffs at it, almost tries to see what it is, but then his eyes fall on the crumpled figure not far from where he is and it acts like a dash of cold water across his brain. Hamid. Hamid is flopped in a pitiful heap, his new wings draped across the floor, his eyes closed.

He was dreaming. Oscar realizes that in the same moment that he takes in Hamid’s unconscious (oh, gods, please let him only be unconscious, Oscar cannot have failed him a second time) form and the sounds of something that is definitely not making breakfast in the other room. He pushes himself to a standing position and looks around the room. It doesn’t take long to spot the tunnel Hamid spoke of, at the back of the lab. That must be both out and safe.

“Tell the others to follow us,” he calls over his shoulder to the person he now recognizes as Ada, hurrying over to Hamid’s side and hefting him into his arms. The wings make it awkward, but Hamid sort of nestles into Oscar’s arms. Thank the gods, he’s alive.

Oscar runs. He heads down the tunnel, the light fading behind him, but he can’t spare a hand to cast any sort of spell to help him, so he just gets as far as he can. There’s just enough light left for him to see the gate before he runs headlong into it, and he checks, then looks over his shoulder. The others will be coming any moment now, he tells himself. They just have to wait a moment.

He sets Hamid down on the ground and looks him over quickly. He looks...fine, really. A bit disheveled, but fine. Then Oscar notices the bloodied tear in his shirt. Underneath the rend is a scar so new its edges are still shiny, directly over Hamid’s warm and generous heart.

It doesn’t take a genius to guess what happened. And, touching his own chest briefly, Oscar feels the same thing.

He checks Hamid over quickly, and even though he’s a bit rattled, he realizes that the sweet smell he noticed earlier is probably what knocked Hamid out; other than that, he looks fine. Oscar sniffs the air experimentally. It’s a bit fresher down here, so he should be able to…

“Hamid,” he says urgently, shaking the halfling, then slapping his face as gently as possible. “Wake up!”

Hamid’s eyes snap open. There’s a moment of disorientation before his eyes clear. “Oscar?” he says, his voice a bit higher-pitched than normal as he sits up. “What’s—what happened?”

Oscar still has no idea, actually, except for one absolute certainty so strong he sensed it even in his dreams, maybe even before it happened. “Zolf saved us.”

The confusion on Hamid’s face melts into fierce determination. “Then let’s go return the favor.”

#ollie writes fanfic #rusty quill gaming #rqg 207 #207 spoilers #minor character death #grief mention #violence mention #augusta leigh (rqg)#sumutnyerl #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #oscar wilde (rqg)

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plaidbooks · 3 years ago

Text

A Solo Act part 2

A/N: Yay backstory! And obligatory masquerade ball! Shoutout to Becca for helping with the clothes ❤ This will most likely have a third part--I have it outlined, so let’s see if I’ll write it 😅

This covers the Masquerade square in @adarafaelbarba moodboard bingo!

Part 1 here

Tags: poison, branding (like with a hot metal), talks of death, injuries (one character is beaten)

Words: 2973

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @berniesilvas

It had been almost a year of you living in the city. You and Nick had a few more run-ins, and your relationship stayed very much the same. He annoyed you as much as you annoyed him, and you fought constantly, almost always on sight. But you were both pretty equal in terms of skill. The only time either of you got the upper hand was when you got the element of surprise.

And, of course, your showboating started to turn into flirting. There was a heavy sexual tension between you two, and you didn’t know what would happen when it finally snapped. But for now, you enjoyed riling him up.

*******************

You looked yourself over in the mirror, taking in your gown. It was a deep shade of emerald, with silver embroidery that added to its elegance. You were gorgeous in it, the way the bodice hugged your form, your cleavage on full display—that was one of the reasons you bought it. Men scrambled on hands and knees for a beautiful woman, and it would help distract them from the dagger in your hand. The skirts of the gown bloomed out, giving your legs room to move.

Grabbing the simple mask of matching green and silver, you got into the waiting carriage outside your place, heading for the Duke’s palace. It wasn’t hard gaining an invitation to the biggest masquerade ball of the season, just as you were sure it wouldn’t be hard to take the Duke out.

You affixed the mask to your face just as the carriage rolled to a stop. While you disliked having your peripherals blocked, you did appreciate the disguise. No one would look at your body in that dress and think assassin, and the mask would help during your escape. You just had to make sure to be out of the palace before the Duke fell.

The ballroom was expansive, filled with the rich and noble. Couples danced while others sat and talked about nothing, or stuffed their faces while those in the streets starved. You felt you blood boil; you hated these rich bastards.

You glanced around until you found the Duke; masked or not, he stuck out like a sore thumb. His doublet was a bright gold, the sleeves slashed to show the lining inside, and the light seemed drawn to the material, making him glow. From what you could see of his cheeks, which were rosy, he was already drunk. You rolled your eyes, then headed for him, hoping to earn a dance. Before you made it more than a few steps, however, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You fought the urge to break whoever’s fingers it was as you turned to look at the offender.

“May I have a dance, Miss?” Nick asked, voice velvet. He was incredibly handsome in his black doublet, the gold embroidery subtle, but effective.

You glared at him, “I thought I told you to never touch me.”

“That’s not a no.” He smirked, and you wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face. Before you could deny him, he took your hand, dragging you to the dancefloor. His free hand dropped to your hip, and he started moving. You missed a step in your annoyance, then caught up, to not cause a scene.

“What are you doing here, Nick?” you asked. His hand was warm on your skin, cocooning your hand in warmth. And his cologne was intoxicating; you found yourself leaning closer, trying to catch a whiff before you noticed and pulled away to a respectable distance once more.

But he had noticed, grinning cheekily at you. “Same thing you are, I’m sure. The Duke.” He spun you, then dipped you as the song ended. Your heart fluttered as he brought you back up, pulling you close against his chest.

“D—don’t you dare get in my way,” you stuttered, trying to regain your composure.

Nick’s grin widened as another song started, and he swayed with you once more. “Oh, don’t worry; I won’t.” He leaned in closer, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. “He’s about to make a toast, and I’ve already poisoned his goblet.”

You leaned back to look at him, shocked. “When did you—”

“You might want to get out of here before he makes his toast. Once he goes down, the guards will start unmasking guests,” Nick quickly explained. Sure enough, the band stopped playing when there was a clinking. Turning to look, the Duke was standing, goblet in his hand, a spoon in the other that he had used to call attention. When you looked back, Nick was gone.

Every eye was on the Duke, and you slowly started making your way towards the exit. His voice rang out as he gave a short speech—more like a sentence—and he sipped his drink. Almost instantly, he started to choke, his face turning purple, then blue. You were close enough to the exit that you turned and walked quickly out into the hallway, trying to fight the urge to run; that would only draw attention.

“Hey! Stop!” you heard from behind you, and you ran towards freedom, attention be damned. Two guards appeared in the doorway in front of you, and you braced yourself, crashing into one. But before you could take him out, you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head, and everything went dark.

***

Nick was still smug the next day; the look on your face after he told you he had poisoned the Duke would be forever imprinted on his mind. As would the image of you in that dress, your body warm against his. And when he dipped down to your ear, he had caught a whiff of the perfume in your hair, and he swooned.

Pushing that from his mind, he swiped a newspaper from a stand. But he stopped in his tracks as he saw the headline:

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN CAUGHT AT BALL WHERE DUKE POISONED

It couldn’t be you, right? As much as Nick hated you, you were skilled, almost on the same level as him. There was no way you were captured. But he had heard the Duke’s speech as he left, knew he had less time than he had predicted. He had been distracted, though, seeing you in that gown, dancing with you so close, seeing the pure lust in your eyes as you gazed at him after the dip. He had been so tempted to kiss you last night, so tempted to—

No, you were enemies, and he hated you. Even so, you were connected under the assassin’s code. Sure, you weren’t in the same guild—or any guild, really—but it was hard for Nick to leave you to your fate, whatever that would be. Though, he had a pretty good idea what it would be. A branding and an execution; the same thing that awaited every assassin captured.

The thought of someone pressing the scalding metal to your skin filled Nick with a white-hot rage. He made up his mind then and there; he wasn’t going to let that happen to you.

***************

Guards were perhaps the easiest people in the world to bribe…well, depending on the guard. Personal bodyguards? Not really. But guards of a prison, where they’re spit at, shit thrown at them? Absolutely.

Nick gained easy access to the jail’s interior. This would be the harder part; the guards in these sections were mostly likely dedicated to the crown. He was able to ambush a lone guard carrying food, stealing his clothes. The man was bigger in the torso than Nick, so he had to tuck in the tunic and hope no one would really notice.

As he was pulling on a glove, however, a piercing scream rang throughout the jail. The hair on Nick’s neck and arms stood up straight, and his heartbeat tripled. It was the worst sound Nick had ever heard in his life, and it seemed to go on forever. Finally, it stopped, but in the silence, it could still be heard, echoing throughout the jail.

He finished pulling on the guard outfit, picked up the food tray, and hurried in the direction of the sound. Three other guards were coming towards him, and he tried to act nonchalant.

“She’s not going to want to eat after that,” one of them said to Nick, and the other two laughed. He ignored them, heading towards the cell they had just vacated, praying you weren’t the one in there.

He stopped a few feet away, as soon as a limp body was visible in the cell. You were trembling, sobbing softly, curled on your side. The smell of burning flesh permeated the room, and Nick struggled to not gag. Slowly, he moved closer. But he scuffed his boot on the ground, and you flinched.

“G—go away! I’ll—I’ll kill you!” you shouted, your voice hoarse and laced with fear. Nick said nothing as he came right to the cell, unlocking it with the key he stole. He opened the door and made his way over to you, until he stood over you. You curled in tighter on yourself as he crouched next to you. The burned and blistered skin on your forearm made him see red, and he wanted nothing more to kill the bastards that did this. But there was only so much time, and he needed to get you out of there.

He gently touched your shoulder, and you flinched away from him. He reached for you again, this time rolling you over to look at him. You blinked in surprise to find Nick crouching over you, but his face was set in stone. Wave after wave of rage pulsed through him as he saw your face, your body; you had been heavily beaten. The guards probably had fun hitting you around, and he clenched his teeth.

“Nick?” you asked, voice soft. That one word said in a voice so terrified was enough to drag him from his dark thoughts, calming the rushing in his ears.

He grabbed your non-branded arm, hauling you to your feet. “We don’t have much time; let’s go.” But the moment you stood, your eyes rolled back, and you lost consciousness. Your body went limp, and Nick caught you against his chest. He let out a low curse before throwing your body over his shoulder and leaving the cell.

***

You were in so much pain when you awoke, especially your arm. You remembered the guards attacking you, calling you names and threatening worse if you fought back. You also remembered two of them holding you down, your body pinned on the ground, while a third heated up the blackened metal until it was glowing red. You had struggled as he got closer and closer, but it was no use. You had tried to brace yourself for it, but the moment the metal touched your skin, you couldn’t stop the scream that tore from your throat. You barely registered the men’s laughter as you felt like you would surely die from the pain alone.

You knew what happened next, that you’d be executed; the brand was just in case you got away or survived…and as a marker for the afterlife about your sins in this life. As you grew more conscious, though, you realized you weren’t on the ground, the sparce straw not even fit for a pillow scratching your skin. No, you were in a comfortable bed.

Your eyelids slowly fluttered open, and you found yourself in a foreign room. What the hell is this? you thought, confused. You grit your teeth against the pain as you struggled to sit up. Just then, the door opened, revealing Nick in his normal tunic and slacks, carrying a bucket of water, bandages, and washcloths.

“Hey! Don’t move, just lay back and relax,” he said, hurrying over to you. He placed the bucket and supplies on the floor, then gently, but firmly, pushed your shoulders back down on the bed.

You let him guide you down, your eyes scanning his face. “What’s going on here?”

“You are heavily injured and shouldn’t be moving,” he explained.

You rolled your eyes. “How’d I get here? Why are you helping me?”

“I broke you out of jail. Now just lay there and shut up; I don’t need you asking all these questions while I change your bandages, okay?”

You huffed, relaxing back on the bed as he pulled the sheets off you. You couldn’t stop the heat from flooding your cheeks as he examined your body, the injuries. He had taken you out of your dress, leaving you in your undergarments—at least they covered you. But he didn’t look at you with hunger like most men; his eyes were tender. Your arm was the worst injury of the bunch, and he started there. His hands were so soft, so gentle against you as he unraveled the old bandage.

When the bandage fell away, you finally tore your eyes from his face, looking at the brand. Your skin was shiny and red, the blisters and burned skin cleared away, leaving the mark in the shape of a dagger on your forearm. You felt tears; with this, you were forever branded as an assassin. There was no hiding it—besides with long sleeves—no going to a normal, retired life later. Everyone would know who and what you were, what you are.

Nick dunked a cloth in the bucket, wrung it out, then started washing the wound. You winced in pain as he worked, his fingers gentle. It was silent in the room outside of the water when he rewet the cloth: him intent on washing your open wounds and binding the internal ones, and you intent on his soft touch.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Why did you save me? Why are you helping me now?”

He didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge that you had spoken. He just continued working. You were about to ask again when he said, “you needed the help.”

“Don’t give me that crap, Nick. We’re not friends, don’t even like each other. I need a better reason,” you replied harshly.

He continued wrapping a cut on your leg without looking at your face. Once done, he sat in silence, looking at the ground. Sighing, he slowly pulled the tunic over his head and off, revealing an undershirt. Your eyes widened at the white scars littering his broad, muscular body. But what caught your eye was the imprint of a dagger, burned into his right bicep. Your jaw dropped in surprise, and you tore your eyes from the brand to his face, finding him staring at you.

“I helped you because I knew what it felt like…and because I didn’t want to relive the mistakes I’ve already made,” he muttered.

That explained why your wound had looked so clean; he knew how to take care of it from experience. “Wh—what mistakes?”

“You really want my whole life story? When I’m not even sure you won’t try to kill me once you’re healed enough?”

He didn’t really believe that, you could tell. Plus, assassins didn’t kill each other, not unless absolutely necessary…or the assassin goes rogue. But you didn’t know how to pry him—well, that wasn’t true. You took a deep breath, looking at your hands in your lap.

“I’m not in a guild because my parents warned me to never join one,” you said softly. “They were in different guilds and yet…they fell in love. But they weren’t allowed to be together; their guild master forbade them. So, they did the only thing they could; they left their guilds. Once their masters found out, they tracked them down, and—and branded them. Twice. One was the mark of the assassin—” you glanced at the bandage that hid your own mark— “the second was the mark of the deserter. They were then banished, and no guild would take them, not after the mark was on them.”

Nick sat in silence while you talked. You wanted him to understand, understand why you worked alone, why you didn’t trust anyone. He gently reached out, taking your hand in his. You glanced up at him, but his eyes were locked on your joined hands.

“I was in a guild when I was younger; they’re still around, actually. But I, uh…” he closed his eyes, taking a breath. “I left.”

“Why’d you leave?”

His eyes opened and you noticed the tears. “It was a routine contract. Me and a rookie; I was showing him the ropes. What I didn’t expect was that it would end in the rookie dying and me rotting in a jailcell.” You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. “I let my guard down, and he was killed right in front of me. I should’ve saved him or died in that cell.”

“How’d you get away?” you asked, voice hushed.

Nick chuckled humorlessly. “My guild broke me out. I was the one that was saved, even after I had failed. And I just…I couldn’t be there anymore, couldn’t ever experience that pain again. So, I chose to work alone, never let anyone close.”

You felt terrible for him, to go through that. Sure, your parents passed away, but it was natural causes, not murdered. It was always a fear of the job, but it still hurt to see those you knew and loved taken from you.

Nick stood, stretching and rolling his neck. “Well, your bandages have been applied. I’m going to make supper; you should rest. I’ll bring you a plate.”

You watched him walk away, mumbling a quiet, “thank you,” as he went. But he made no indication that he had heard you.

#nick amaro x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #adarafaelbarbaseptmeberbingo

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a-n-conrad · 4 years ago

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Bad at Secrets (PS4 Spider-man x Reader)

[Summary: For as long as you’ve known Peter Parker, he has been pretty bad at keeping secrets. Lucky for him, you’re much better at it. At least, until you end up drunk at his house after a party.

Warning and Notes: Drinking, Drunk Reader, Awkward convos, PS4 game spoilers, swearing, May didn’t die because I refuse, gender-neutral reader]

Peter Parker was never very at keeping secrets from you. He was clumsy and always managed to leave something obvious out in the open. You were surprised that the entire city of New York hadn’t figured it out yet. Perhaps it was because you were helping him constantly. Whether it was casually introducing him to voice modifying technology, or helping him set up his phone to have two different numbers, you know, for “business”.

You still couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t told you yet. You knew MJ knew. Did he just trust her more? Maybe you were just jealous. They had dated, so it probably came up then. And to be honest, you had to admit you had a crush on him. But you knew that wasn’t going to go anywhere. You and Peter had been friends for so long, that if anything was going to happen, it would have by now. So you’d be his friend. And you wouldn’t push him to tell you anything he didn’t want to.

- - - - -

It had been a couple of months since the city went to shit. Peter’s mentor, Otto Octavius was imprisoned at The Raft, Feast was now being run by May after Martin Li was arrested, and it took a whole month to get all of the run-aways from Rykers off the street. Everyone was stressed and tired, and you really needed a second to de-stress. So when you got an invitation to a party at one of your old college friend’s houses, you really couldn’t turn down the offer.

Maybe you went a little crazy. You didn’t have the highest alcohol tolerance, and before you knew it, you were starting to get a little wobbly on your feet. Definitely a bit too wobbly to be walking home through the streets of New York City. So without thinking, you picked up your phone to call a friend of yours.

You knew he’d be busy, but Peter was really the only one you trusted to walk you home. I mean, who better than Spider-man. You were surprised when it only rang twice before he picked up, “(Y/n)? I thought you were at a party tonight, is everything ok?”

You giggled a little at the concerned tone in his voice. He overthought a lot, and it was honestly kind of endearing, “Yeah, Pete, I’m fine. I was just wondering if you’re free to walk me home.”

“You didn’t bring anyone with you to walk with?” He asked, “Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, grabbing another can for something. You weren’t sure exactly what you were drinking anymore, but it was fine. Honestly, as much as you’d normally worry about the dangers of a situation like this, it was a lot harder to worry about stuff like that when you had just almost died from a supervillain attack, “That’s why I’m calling you. If you’re busy, though, I’ll figure something else out.”

“No, no,” You heard some noise in the background. He was definitely busy, but knowing him, he wasn’t about to let you walk home yourself, “I’ll be there, just hang tight for another fifteen minutes or something.”

“Sure,” You took another drink, “I’ll see you soon.”

- - - - -

By the time he got there, you had gone through another four cans of, well, you still couldn’t remember. Either way, you were pretty drunk. When Peter got there, he had found you dancing on a table, your hair extra messy and a little bit of your drink spilled on the front of your outfit. You looked like you were having so much fun, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Come on, (Y/n), let’s get you home,” He said, walking up to where you were. You smiled down at him before jumping down from the table.

“Pete!” You exclaimed, grinning at him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, (Y/n),” He chuckled, “But we should get you home. You need some sleep.”

“But I don’t wanna go home,” You whined, “It’s boring. There’s nothing to do. Can we go to your place instead? I wanna watch movies.”

“Sure,” He sighed. He could tell you were a lot drunker than you were when you called him. It had been a while since he had to babysit you while you were drunk, but he honestly didn’t mind. You were always fun when you were drunk.

- - - - -

Peter’s house wasn’t too far away from the party, but it was a long enough walk that the two of you had to talk about something. And eventually, you ran out of your normal things to drunkenly ramble about. So things started to get a little more interesting.

“Do you think Peter trusts me?” You asked out of nowhere. It caught Peter a little off-guard.

“I think so,” He said. You obviously didn’t know you were talking to him. He wondered if he should tell you, but honestly, he was a little interested in what you’d say.

“Then why doesn’t he tell me anything?”

“What do you mean he doesn’t tell you anything.” You were always so confident that you knew everything. And Peter tried his best not to keep too many secrets from you. There were just two, so which one had you started to pick up on.

“He has a secret that he’s had for years that he won’t tell me,” you pouted at him.

“Do you know what it is?”

“Yeah, Pete isn’t very good at keeping secrets,” Shit.

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you,” You replied, crossing his arms, “It’s Peter’s secret.”

He couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. You were so sweet and protective. He should’ve known better than to think you’d rat him out to someone you thought was a stranger. He’d just have to ask again when you were sober.

Eventually, the two of you made it to his apartment. He had gotten a new one a while ago after he got evicted from his. Aunt May was helping him out until he got a new job, and he was working pretty hard on finding something just as fulfilling as his work with Otto.

“What movie do you wanna watch?”

“Mmmmm, Superhero movie.”

“I didn’t know you were a fan of superheroes, (Y/n),” He chuckled.

“Mhm, I love Spider-man.”

He laughed a bit, causing you to pout, “I didn’t know you were a Spider-man fan.”

“No, I love Spider-man. I love him. He’s so smart and funny and caring.”

Peter couldn’t help that blush that coated his cheeks. He hoped maybe you were too drunk to notice. And lucky for him, you were. In fact, you had fallen asleep on his couch before he could even get the movie he had picked out started.

He smiled at you. You were kind of cute when you slept. You looked so calm. He had missed seeing you calm and happy. So much had happened, he was just glad you were ok. And alive.

He carefully picked you up, he could pull buses and helicopters, lifting you up was really no problem. He decided that you could take the bed tonight. What kind of hero would he be if he made his friend sleep on the couch? He set you down carefully, tucking you in to the covers, before heading over to the ouch and making a little bed for himself. This might actually be the first night he had gotten a decent amount fo sleep in a couple of months.

- - - - -

Waking up with a pounding headache should have been expected. Waking up in Peter’s bed with a glass of water a couple of painkillers next to you, however, wasn’t. And what was even more unexpected was the sounds of someone cooking breakfast coming from the other room. Did Peter even eat breakfast?

After taking the painkillers and drinking the water as quickly as possible, you wandered into the kitchen, your hair a complete mess and the clothes you were wearing to the party last night crumpled from being slept in. Standing over the stove, watching the food intently to avoid his habit of getting distracted and burning his cooking, you found Peter.

“Morning, Pete,” You yawn, sitting down at the table.

He turned towards you with a smile, “Morning, (Y/n). Are you feeling alright?’

“Mm, my head still hurts, but I’m sure that’ll go away. Thanks for letting me stay here. I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother.”

“Do you remember anything you told me last night?”

“Ugh, not really,” You shook your head, “The last thing I remember was calling you, honestly. I hope I didn’t say anything too stupid.”

“No, it’s not that,” He said, quickly getting distracted from your conversation, by the toast popping out of the toaster.

- - - - -

Eventually, he sat down at the table with you, placing a plate in front of you and another plate in front of himself. You really hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the food was right in front of you. And to be honest, Peter was getting pretty good at cooking.

“So what exactly did I say last night?” you asked, shoving food into your mouth. Did you eat last night? You couldn’t remember.

“Well, that you were in love with Spider-man,” Peter chuckled, but you knew that wasn’t really what he wanted to talk about. He was just trying to lighten the mood first. You still couldn’t help but blush. You supposed it was true, “But also that you knew that I was keeping a secret from you.”

“Oh.

“You still wouldn’t tell me what, though. I don’t think you knew you were talking to me. I appreciate the loyalty, but I’m wondering what secret I’m keeping from you.”

“Is there more than one, Pete?”

He froze.

“I know that you’re Spider-man, Pete. You really suck at keeping secrets. You think I can’t figure it out when you leave drawings for all your gadgets out all the time?”

“How long have you known?”

“A year or so? Maybe more?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“I just didn’t want to get you swept up in anything. You know, with the villains I have to fight, Spider-man ends up with a lot of enemies. I just wanted to keep you away from that.” He sighed. He looked like he was trying to think of something to say until a realization crept its way onto his face, “In love with Spider-man, huh?”

You choke a bit on your food, causing Peter to laugh a bit, “No, we’re not changing the topic. You’re a superhero.”

“And you’re in love with my superhero self,” He laughs before it seems like his brain clicks again, “Wait if you already knew...”

“Um…”

“(Y/n)?”

“Um, hey, Just let me finish breakfast and I’ll head out. Really don’t worry about it, Pete,” You scrambled. You had avoided that conversation for years. You had sate through him dating MJ, through him risking his life over and over, through him crying to you over and over about everything in his life going wrong without saying anything. You really didn’t want this to be the point where you lose him.

“Woah, wait, no,” He looked panicked, “Why are you running away?”

“Look, Pete, I’ve avoided this conversation forever, I don’t want things to be awkward, or to make you feel like we can’t just hang out. I just don’t want you to stop being my friend,” You rambled, only cut off when Peter grabbed your hand, a grin on his face.

“Ask me again if there’s more than one secret.”

“What?”

“Ask.”

“Do you have more than one secret, Pete?” You were still pretty nervous, and you had no idea where he was going with this, but you trusted him. And you were pretty sure that he wasn’t going to make fun of you.

“Yeah. I’ve been keeping two secrets from you,” He said, “The first is that I’m Spider-man. And the second is that I’ve been in love with you for months.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” He said, “Remember a month or two after MJ and I broke up? When we went to the park in the middle of the night because neither of us could sleep? And we just talked for hours about life and our goals and everything? The next day I realized I was in love with you.”

“I guess you’re better at keeping secrets than I thought you were,” you laughed.

“I guess so,” he laughed, “But I don’t plan on keeping anymore.”

(A/N: This might be trash, but my Spider-man hyper fixation from when I was a kid is back full swing.)

#spider-man #spider-man x reader #ps4 spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #ps4 peter parker x reader #ps4 spiderman x reader #marvel #insomniac #insomniac spider-man

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