#I was gonna draw him stretching his arms above his head but I drew him too close to the top of the page :/
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he stretch
#stretch those wings chicken boy#mcyt#osmp#osmp fanart#origins smp#origins smp fanart#osmp tommy#origins smp tommy#origins tommy#o!tommy#osmp!tommy#o!tommy fanart#tommyinnit#tommyinnit fanart#I was gonna draw him stretching his arms above his head but I drew him too close to the top of the page :/#10pieceart
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Freak (Franco Colapinto X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Formula 1
Requested: Day 31 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!
Warnings: kinda spicy at the end (sriracha level)
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 574
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
Writing Inktober 2024 Materlist
~~(^Pinterest)
“What is this?” Franco asked as soon he walked back into your shared apartment. You didn’t go to the last race weekend, and you were just about to fall asleep. You had no clue what he was talking about as you sat up in bed and rubbed your eyes.
“What’re you talking about, cariño (love)?” You yawned as you stretched your arms above your head and tried to wake up more. Your bleary eyes looked to where Franco was standing, and he had his phone pulled out. By the sounds of it, it was a TikTok video, but in your tired state, you couldn’t name it.
“This video you made,” Franco responded, not looking away from the video nor showing you the video.
“I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me cuz I’m not following,” You sighed, not wanting to get out of the warm bed. Franco seemed to get the hint finally as he quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and climbed into bed with you. You moved to rest your head against his chest and absentmindedly drew shaps across his chest. “Now, what are you asking?”
“This video,” He said, unlocking his phone and showing you a TikTok that you made a few days ago when you were bored.
You were standing in your kitchen lip singing to the song and loosely dancing around with the text, “Is somebody gonna match my freak (drive me around, wear matching outfits, do face masks and bake with me)?” above your head. You chuckled lightly, hiding your face in Franco’s chest.
“Don’t go all shy on me now, cariño,” he teased as he tossed his phone off to the side to put his full attention on you. He moved his hand to your chin and pushed your head back so he could leave kisses around your face. You giggled and tried to push away from him, but that just led to him rolling the two of you over and caging you between his arms.
“You’re such a freak, Franco,” You chuckled as you put your hands on his cheeks to push him back. You kept him only a short distance away from your face, pulling him closer to only rest his forehead against yours.
“But I match your freak, right?” He joked, turning his head as he gave you a side eye and a smirk, looking you up and down.
“You’ve always matched my freak,” You laughed, not believing you were having this conversation. “That video was directed at you!”
“Is that all I do to match your freak? I can think of quite a few other freaky things we do-”
“You’re done, Franco,” You cut him off, covering his mouth with your hand. “Not everyone needs to know what we do.”
“You say that like we’re being recorded right now,” Franco laughed before cutting himself off and looking around the room. “We’re not being recorded, right?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” You joked.
“Then, there’s nothing stopping me from doing this,” He said before dropping his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss. After your makeout session, he narrowly pulled back, his lip still brushing against yours as he said, “I don’t know about you, but I really missed you this weekend.”
“I always miss you, cariño,” You replied back softly, running a hand through his hair before pulling him back down to meet your lips.
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#franco colapinto x reader#writing inktober 2024#bad268#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1#williams f1#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#ship268#thing268
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Can we please have some headcanons for pirate boys reacting to y/n falling asleep on them? Btw, I absolutely adore your art, keep up the good work!💗💗💗
AWWWWW YEAH!!!
Y/N Falling Asleep on the Bois:
Sans:
Aw yeahhhh, now this is the life.
Sans probably woke up to see you napping right up on him. When that happens, he'll just give you a sleepy smile and rest his hand on your back.
He likes cradling you or having you basically on him. Like a weighted blanket! He'll draw shaped on your back or pat you while you sleep.
Papyrus:
Very rarely you'll have a chance to relax with the energetic Papyrus. He's always jumping around, and he hardly sits still! But once in a while, he'll settle down.
He'll lean right into you the moment he feels your weight on him. And let out a quiet squeal when he notices that you're snoozing.
As nice as couple nap time is, he's got things to do! He'll slink away as carefully as possible and leave you to sleep.
Blue:
Blue isn't the most comfortable thing to sleep against... or on for that matter. He's always jumping around and bouncing off walls! How can you even get him to sit still?
Well, he'll want to take care of his cannon at some point! When he goes to polish his cannon, take a lil nap against his shoulder.
He'll catch you softly snoring and stay still until you wake up! It's hard for a man of his energy to do, but anything for his wonderful datemate!
Stretch:
Absolutely squealing.
He's frgid, man is never gonna move again. He was just wiping his banjo with you leaned up against him. And then, BAM. You were fast asleep.
He'll wrap an arm around your shoulders ever so carefully and pull you in. Although his exterior is calm and collected, he is SCREAMIN on the inside.
Red:
With how loud Red's workplace is, you'd have to be extra tired to sleep near him, let alone against him!
But the moment you do, he'll stop tinkering away and slowly slide you into his arms and carry you off to some place quieter.
One he has you rested up and tucked in maybeeeee he'll join you... who's kiddin. He's hopping right in and cuddling up next to you, listening to your steady heartbeat.
Edge:
Stiff as a muthafuckin board.
He is the quietest skeleton alive. He has never raised his voice above a decibel. In fact, he doesn't speak, not with the risk of you waking up from your little nap.
He'll pat your head and softly untangle any knots in your hair, all while gently scolding you about staying up for him. Of course, he's flattered.
If his brother teases him, he gets tossed off the ship. (Quietly) And anyone else who tries to wake you up gets a wordless glare.
Razz:
He's flattered that you would wait for him until he was done with his work, but really, you didn't have to...
He'll sigh and drap his coat against your back. Maybe a lil smooch if he can tell you were not waking up right away.
No, that wasn't him. What are you talking about? The cruel and terrifying Razz would never drape his favorite coat over you when you were asleep. DON'T THANK HIM EITHER CAUSE HE DIDN'T DO IT!
Cash:
He's probably napping far before you start, so hey! More the merrier.
He'll relax against you and soak in your warmth as you cuddle up to his bony body. But sometimes, if he's feeling a little mischievous, he'll poke your cheeks or tickle under your nose to annoy you.
At some point, you'll wake up to him grinning like an idiot. Of course, he drew on your face...
Bear:
Oh... you're sleeping next to him.
He was so absorbed in looking at the stars that he didn't even register your body snuggling up to his side.
He'll take the teacup out of your hands and pull the blanket around the both of you a little tighter. You being here bring him such comfort that it feels almost unreal. He thanks the stars before he himself falls to a light slumber.
Cinnamon:
ARGHHH SO CUTE-
There are two wolves inside of Cinnamon. One wants to squeeze your body against him while he giddily swings you around. The other wants to kiss your head softly while patting your back.
He ends up just smiling really hard and leaning into you as well.
Also, will snipe Cash with peanuts if he even tries to get close enough to troll you.
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One way, or another, I'm gonna get ya
⇢ Pairing: Ghostface/Meg Thomas
⇢ Length: Multi-chapter
⇢ Synopsis: Left the only remaining survivor, Meg's best bet is to find the hatch before the killer does. Ghostface might have more in mind than just that though...
⇢ CW: SUGGESTIVE!! I am still very much a sfw blog but this is most certainly the most suggestive thing I have posted.
⇢ A/N: Inspired by slash's very wonderful GhostMeg artwork! Thank you very much for reviving my favorite ship!!
Meg bolted upwards, stray sparks nipping at her fingers as she hastily released the wires in the generator, waiting with baited breath. Above the mechanic chuffing, she could hear Dwight’s panicked scream cutting out, deathly silence darting into the space behind, pressing against her chest and making it hard to breathe.
Her fingers twitched, eyes scanning the area around before the death tomb rang out, startling Meg enough for a flinch. She watched the Entity’s long grasp come down, reaching across the map to retrieve his body. Meg allowed herself a moment for her heart to bleed for her friend, no doubt killed in terror, before swiftly turning to her left to duck behind a large rock close to the wall.
Claudette had been the first to go, collected by the Entity off of a hook; Jake not too long after, mori’d, considering that he had never reached his second hook.
She swallowed thickly, cautiously peeking out before darting to the next closest hiding spot. With Dwight gone, Meg was the last remaining survivor. And with two generators left to complete, she had better odds to find the hatch than to attempt the typical method.
She strained her ears for any careless scuffle against the ground to warn her of the incoming killer- not that the elusive, stealthy Ghostface would ever do such a thing- before hesitantly peeking out. When no killer lunged at her face, she tiptoed out, drawing herself in, taunt like a spring, before she burst into a sprint, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of her exit.
All she had to do was find it first- and considering she’d run the map enough times to nearly know it like the back of her hand- it shouldn’t be too hard. … Hopefully.
⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡
Meg panted, half hunched over as she hovered between two boulders, knees bent and poised to bolt. The bastard before stood casually, stance hardly tense- a lie though, Meg knew if she tried to bolt past him, he’d be at her before she could even blink. He idly twirled his knife in his grasp, before throwing it upwards, snatching it out of the air without taking his mask off of her for a moment. Meg hunched lower, skin prickling uncomfortably from his piercing gaze.
She flinched as he crossed an arm over his chest, propping his head on his other hand and tilting it slightly, sighing dramatically.
“Listen, darling-,” Ghostface drawled. Meg tensed, jerking to the left to fake him out before she leaped to the right. Her knees buckled, giving out from under her and she bit down on a yelp, stumbling to straighten herself.
She drew up, back into the same position, the killer before her now several paces closer, hands stretched out as if he were approaching a small, terrified animal.
Perhaps he had some reason to- Meg bristled uncomfortably, half tempted to bare her teeth at him, the air tense, her fatigue chaining her in place. Both of them knew she was cornered, Meg just wasn’t one to go down without a fight.
The hatch hadn’t been in any of its typical locations, and by the time Meg had wasted precious minutes nearly upturning the entire map for it, Ghostface had managed to catch a glimpse of her, locking in with vigorous precision.
The game of cat and mouse had gone on longer than Meg had expected. Each moment she thought she was finally free to take a breather, Ghostface would leap out at her, trying to corral her as she’d bolt off by the skin of her teeth. By now her feet and legs ached from her constant running, and several strands of her hair had drifted loose from her braids and now clung uncomfortably to her wet skin.
Obviously the killer looked no worse for wear, as calm and cocky as always. Meg knew him a tad bit better than that though, could see the tenseness in his shoulders, the coil in his frame, the jerkiness in his movements when he’d lunge and miss. He was tired of this.
Meg shifted uncomfortably, drawing into herself, trying to gather the last dredges of her strength for one last sprint. Maybe she’d get lucky this time, maybe the Entity would finally take pity on her and allow her her freedom from the trial (wishful thinking, but a girl could hope).
Ghostface struck at her moment of absent mindedness, lunging at Meg before her head snapped in his direction, reflexes too strained and exhausted to react. She yelped, scrambling backwards as she tripped over her own feet, slamming against the hard ground.
She gasped for air, the breath knocked out of her as stars danced in her vision, the darkness at the edges slithering and threatening to cover her vision. She forced a breath in, coughing as her lungs protested and her throat threatened to close. Another and the darkness receded, Meg finally returning to her own body as she forced strained breaths before the action became second nature. Her vision wavered, swimming in colors, before finally settling, her brain processing the view a moment later as her breath hitched.
A long, desolate white mask filled her entire vision, close enough that Meg could hear the concealed breathing behind it, his covered gaze boring straight into her face. She tried to jolt away, realizing a moment too late that her movements were halted by Ghostface, a strong hand encircling each of her wrists and keeping them pinned down. Panic thrummed in her chest and Meg spurned it into her legs, kicking up at him and trying to draw her knees up high enough to hit him in the groin.
The killer had prepared for that though, straddling her while she’d tried to catch her breath, a firm pressure on each side of her hips keeping her contained and him high enough that Meg couldn’t reach.
A low chuckle came from him as panic flashed in Meg's eyes, her movements jerky and exhausted, straining against his hold and scrambling at the ground in an attempt for any leverage to shove herself away. He leaned in, the redhead freezing, watching with wide eyes as the mask pressed itself against the side of her neck, flinching as an exhale of warm air expelled against her vulnerable flesh. Her body locked stiffly, a cold chill crawling up her spine despite the sheen of sweat that coated her.
Ghostface inhaled deeply and Meg cringed, uncomfortably attempting to shift away to no avail. He followed her movements, chuckling at her exasperation and panic.
“C’mon, I just want to play with you a bit, pretty girl,” he teased, Meg able to feel his grin against her neck. She tensed as fabric rustled next to her ear, straining to glance over for his next movements, heart jackhammering in her chest. A cheek pressed against hers and Meg flinched hard enough to nearly knock her head against the ground. She froze completely, blood settling into ice as the grin pressed against her throat, no fabric covering to protect her now.
“Wait- wait-” she scrambled, panicked, flinching once more as a kiss pressed against her exposed collar, her blood thrumming against her veins. Warm air traveled upwards to her cheek, hovering above her as Meg tilted her head as far back as she could, eyes slammed shut before a soft sensation settled onto her face.
She flinched once more, drawing into herself as much as she could, trying to raise her shoulders to hide herself. Ghostface gave a low chuckle, easily shifting to bury his nose in her neck, lowering closer onto above her as Meg panicked.
“Wait- wait- you don’t-”, she kicked helplessly, tongue screwed into knots in her mouth, saliva evaporating in fear. She was a runner, darting away from grabs or weapons, leaping over windows, keeping at a distance. She wasn’t- what was she supposed to do for- for this?!
Her scrambled thoughts were interrupted with a soft pressure on the corner of her mouth, Meg stiffening as she startled. Ghostface’s shoulders shook in amusement at her reaction, lowering his body to trap her completely against the ground.
“You weren’t thinking of a way to try to get away, were you, hun?” He teased as Meg panicked, legs kicking fruitlessly in the air as she strained against his hold. His mouth drifted close to hers before he shifted upwards, pressing a soft kiss to edge of her brow as she screwed her face up tensely.
“You’re just so adorable. I could eat you right up,” he breathed above her, warm air fanning her face as the survivor pressed further into the ground, glancing desperately at the glimpses of the sky above his frame. The Entity would never let a match go on so long, punishing any attempts to take a break within its games. Where was it now?? Why hadn’t she been forcefully grabbed out of the trial yet?!
“Are you looking for help?” Ghostface teased, Meg’s gaze immediately snapping to him. She could only see his mouth curling into a satisfied, coy grin from her angle, drifting closer as Meg turned away once more.
“Oh don’t worry,” he soothed, a hand releasing her wrist to brush through her loose braid, snapping the elastic at the bottom to release it. A strand of her hair was gently clasped in his hand, pulled to his mouth as Meg trembled in exhaustion, tense in the face of the unknown. His lips pressed down, kissing it gently as his grin peeked over it, the redhead feeling as though she were doused in a bucket of cold water.
“I made sure we wouldn’t get interrupted.”
#suggestive#ghostmeg#dbd#male yandere#yandere ghostface#slasher x final girl#angst#hurt/no comfort#manhandling#dead by daylight#dbd writing#dbd fanfic#ghostface#dbd ghostface#meg thomas#slashers#slashers writing#slashers fanfic#killer x survivor#yandere scenarios
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Passion - Elfebruary 2023
Lædra’s fingers slipped beneath his coat lapels, pushing them back over his shoulders. She leaned in close, and up on top toes, her lips hovered just above his skin, hot breath washing over him. She let the coat fall to the floor with a hush of silk. She kissed his neck and lowered back down to unbutton the fine linen shirt.
With the pop of the third, her lips found their way to his chest. Deft fingers continued to work their way down. She followed behind them with kisses and nips, drawing a whine from him. Dark hair began to spread from his chest, rippling outward. No, not hair. Fur.
As the black fur spread, it seemed his height extended. “Good growl,” she murmured. The last button freed itself from the threaded hold and her nails scratched at his chest through the thick, soft fur.
Frank growled again, his hands burying themselves in her violet-blue hair. Pulling her to him, his tongue slipping out to tease over her lips. He managed a single kiss before his face elongated, a snout of coal black sprinkled with grey taking its place. And still he licked at her lips until the parted for her own tongue to join the dance.
His paws slid down, her hair tangling in his claws as he drew them down her back. The pressure left a trail of white on her skin, which pricked up at the thrill. His arms moved down and swept her up. He padded to the bed in three long strides and laid her down. Two claws hooked the straps on her shoulders and moved them down her arms, sharp tips ghosting over her skin.
As the straps fell away, she reached up, bringing the worgen’s face to hers. She kissed his snout and rubbed her face to it. He whined in her long pointed ear, his black nose drawing in her scent. He slipped her dress off, his tongue curling around a sensitive nipple.
Lædra’s back arched, pressing her to his fur. She dragged her nails through his fur, down his stomach to the waistband of his pants. She unlaced them, biting her lip at the sound of his growls.
“Hey, boss!”
The two of them stopped, their heads swinging around. Lædra groaned and flipped back onto the bed at the sight of the imp squeezing himself under the door.
“I am going to roast you on a spit of this isn’t important,” Frank growled, baring his teeth. “Your timing…”
“I got news for ya. You’re gonna like it!” The imp finally managed to scrabble through the crack under the door and scampered over.
The void elf woman pulled her robe over her and kissed the tip of the worgen’s snout. “Love you,” she murmured and rose from the bed. “I’ll go make some coffee.”
Frank’s paws stretched, claws curling down. His hackles raised, fur bristling. “Make it good.”
#world of warcraft#wra rp#wyrmrest rp#wow#my oc#Elfebruary2023#writing#Lædra Dawnspell#Frank Walsingham#worgen#void elf#damned imp
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pegging könig :)?
absolutely dear anon. this was my first time writing pegging and ngl I had no clue what I was doing, but hopefully I got some of it right! not super proud of this but I didn’t want to deprive anyone of prime pegging König content.
nsfw, 18+, König x GN!reader (afab?), pegging, oral sex
Pegging König
With very little surprise to you König had been downright timid when you’d brought up the idea of pegging. Curious, clearly turned on, but bashful nonetheless. It wasn’t as though you’d had to convince him of course - he was clearly intrigued by the idea.
You’d talked it over a few times before you two ever actually put that plan into motion. He’d had questions that you’d gladly provided answers for, and offered enough reassurance that he was far more comfortable with the idea.
The shyness didn’t fade even as you talked him through stretching himself open. One of his arms slung over his face, the other reached down to guide three thick fingers in and out of himself. You kept busy by covering him with kisses, teasing his cock with your tongue, soothing palms brushing over his rough skin.
His actions picked up in urgency when you’d pressed an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive underside of the head of his cock, his arm finally shifting to reveal his face. When your gazes met he hesitated, eyes flickering as his lips parted on shallow breaths.
“Ready.” He huffed out, withdrawing his fingers with a mild cringe and swiftly breaking the stifling eye contact.
“You sure?” The most important part was that he was comfortable. You had no intentions of rushing him - the efficiency of forgoing proper prep was not nearly worth the risk of him not enjoying himself. Even with his enthusiastic nod, you ducked your fingers down to check. Smiling sweetly at the way he quickly sucked in a breath as your digits pushed in past his rim. Teasingly, you twisted them - drawing a shuddering exhale from the large man.
“I’m ready,” he repeated. “Please?” And wasn’t that just enough to melt your heart? Before you knew it you were settled between his powerful thighs, spreading a generous amount of lube over your strap.
Tracing a gentle line over König’s leg to help soothe any of his remaining anxieties, you pressed the tip of the toy against him. “Breathe.” You reminded him when he tensed up all over again. “I’ve got you, okay?”
He seemed much more at ease with that. Although his throat still bobbed on a nervous swallow when you started leaning forward, he remembered to relax. Lips parting and eyes shutting as you eased yourself inside him as slowly as possible, his face going through a myriad of expressions as he tried to adjust to the strange new feeling.
It wasn’t until you bottomed out that he gave a pleased noise that could only be akin to a whimper, broad hands shoving themselves above his head to rest on the pillow - his fingers itching to grab on to something. Hard.
“I’m gonna to move now.” You told him, the pad of your thumb tracing a vein in his cock as he twitched and nodded in agreement. His silence was unsurprising to you, he was usually not a big talker. There wasn’t enough discomfort on his face to be alarming so you went ahead and began to pull out, changing gears and pushing back in shortly after.
Then again.
Around the fourth thrust you actually began to put some more speed and force behind it, and if König’s surprised and frankly adorable moan was anything to go by - then that was the right move. When you continued you were awarded by more soft noises. They were scattered at first, barely audible, but the harder you pushed and the faster you moved he seemed to open up more.
Every time your hips met his ass he was letting out some variation of a gasp, moan, groan or a whine. It was just fuel to the fire of your own arousal - doubling down on your efforts to try and find some friction from the harness, stomach flipping with every little noise you drew from him.
You hadn’t realized how much you’d worked him up until he started speaking, his voice thick, cracking and desperate.
“Oh fuck, don’t stop - ah, fuck,” He was panting, almost squirming beneath you. “Touch me? Bitte. Bitte, please, touch me?”
What kind of monster would you have to be to deny him that? You were fast to wrap your hand around his cock, picking up the pace slowly until all of his muscles were pulled taught. A look of pure ecstasy on his face when your fingers focused on the head of his length, it must’ve been overstimulating - but he didn’t complain. Not that he seemed to be able to say much apart from the huffing little noises he let out.
“Oh, shit.” As suspected, what followed those words was a litany of (slightly startlingly high pitched) moans and whines, spilling hot and hard over your fist and his own stomach. Must’ve been a hell of an orgasm, because he was soon writhing to get out of your grip when you kept stroking - letting out choked noises of overstimulation.
“My god.” He breathed out when you showed mercy and stilled your movements, grinning down at him while he reoriented himself. You stoked his thighs soothingly, laughing softly when his cock twitched and he let out a displeased grunt.
“Enjoyed yourself?”
The timid smile he gave was more than enough answer. The next hour and a half he spent bringing you over the edge again and again with his tongue expressed his gratitude far more than his words could.
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todobakudeku x fem!reader | SMUT (18+)
WARNINGS: threesome, daddy kink, use of “good girl,” “slut,” and “whore,” voyerism, exhibitionism, threesome, double (triple?) pen, anal, vaginal, and oral (giving and receiving) sex, yelling, degradation, praise, getting caught during sex, inexperienced writer (this is like the first smut I’ve ever written 0.0)
Word count: 3k
x male(ftm pre srs)!reader
Katsuki ran his hands up and down your body, making your skin tingle with excitement.
“Please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips up to try and create even a little bit of friction.
“Please what, baby?” Katsuki said, pressing his warm palms lightly on your abdomen. “Use your words.”
“Please touch me,” you moaned, grabbing at his hands and trying to move them down to your clit.
“Mhm, since you asked so nicely,” he said. His index finger ran down your stomach and he slipped it inside of you. “Ah, you’re already so wet just from me touching you like that?”
He pulled his finger out to put it in his mouth and you grunted, desperate for him to be inside you again. “What a fucking slut.”
You started to whimper again incoherently.
“Mhm, you taste so good, baby. I think I need more.” Katsuki lay down on his back. “Come sit on my face.”
You nodded eagerly, bringing your knees to either side of his head. You held yourself up just above his face, waiting for him to start.
“Uh-uh. You’re not gonna be able to keep yourself up on those legs once I’m done with you.”
You began to lower yourself down nervously.
“Come on now. Daddy can take it. Yeah, just like that. Good girl. When I need to breathe I’ll lift you up, but after you come right back down, understand?” He put his large hands on your waist.
“Y-yes sir.” You’d never called him sir before, but something about the way he was talking to you made it seem right. And judging by the way he moaned from underneath you, he liked it too.
When you were genuinely sitting on his face, Katsuki began alternating between pushing his tongue in and out of you and drawing figure eights on your clit. You gripped the sheets and bucked your hips back and forth over Katsuki’s face, covering his skin with the hot slick he was getting you to release.
“Ah! Katsu! That feels so good!”
“Quieter, baby,” he said softly as he lifted your hips.
“I’m- I’m sorry Katsu, you’re just- agh- so good-” you cut yourself off with another whimper as you felt an orgasm building in your core.
“Please Katsu, I’m so close, please keep going.”
He picked up the pace a little, focusing only on your clit as he flicked it up and down and drew circles around it.
“Ah- yes, yes,” you cried out, pulling against the sheets even harder while your back arched and stiffened. You felt your orgasm tear through you, making you cry out Katsuki’s name. He lifted you off his face and sat up, pulling you onto his lap.
“Fuck, you taste so fucking amazing. You were so good for me,” he said, stroking your hair.
“But you haven’t…” you trailed off, reaching for the bulge in his boxers.
“Be patient, baby, I’m gonna fuck you soon.” He lifted you off his lap and moved to the edge of the bed. His calves dangled and his toes grazed the floor.
“C’mere,” Katsu said, dragging his boxers off. He kicked his legs and let them crumple onto the ground.
You crawled over to him, and he lifted you up by the waist again with your back facing his chest, slowly lowering you onto his cock. You felt it stretch out your entrance slightly and gripped Katsuki’s thigh, but as he went deeper, the discomfort faded. Finally, he lowered you all the way onto his lap. He paused to let you adjust, but you just wanted him to do something. You could feel his dick twitch inside of you, and you moaned his name, trying to move back and forth.
“I’ll do it, baby, don’t worry.” He pulled your body up and pushed it down again, making you bounce up and down on his lap. His cock slammed deep inside you with every thrust, and you felt your core tighten with the unrelenting sensation. You could feel the head of his cock brush against you, and each time it hit that sensitive spot inside you, you couldn’t help but press your back into his chest and whimper. After a minute or so, even his heavy breathing in your ear turned into moans. You were facing away from each other, but you desperately wished you could see Katsu’s face.
“Ah, fuck yes. You’re such a good girl, making daddy feel so good.”
“Katsu, you- you fill me up so well,” you managed to choke out. Katsu started going faster, and you couldn’t help but whine. His arms kept a sturdy grip on your abdomen; you could feel the callouses on his palms rubbing against your skin.
“God, you like that?”
“Yes! It feels so good, daddy!”
“I know, baby,” he cooed, nuzzling his face between your neck and shoulder.
Your moans increased in volume, completely drowning out his, and Katsuki made a shushing noise. “Not too loud, sweetheart. What did I say?”
“I’m sorry, daddy,” you said softly. Your breathing became heavy and labored.
“That’s it. Good girl.” There was a creaking sound from in front of you, and the door swung open.
“Hey, is everything-” Deku stopped speaking to stare at the two of you, his mouth gaping open. On his left, Todoroki’s eyes went wide. Neither of them made a move to leave. As you mumbled ashamedly and tried to cover your naked body, Katsuki kept fucking you in front of the two men.
“Fuck, if you’re gonna watch, at least close the door, assholes,” he said in between huffs.
For a few seconds, they continued to stay still, but Todoroki reached behind him to pull the door closed, keeping his eyes on you the whole time.
“Fuck, my girl’s so hot you can’t look away, Half-and-Half Bastard?”
Todoroki didn’t respond but you could see a bulge growing in his pants. Next to him, Midoriya was already palming his dick from over his pants.
“Katsuki,” you whimpered softly, “don’t you think we should stop?”
“Why? They wanna watch, they can watch. You want me to cum inside you, don’t you?”
“I do, Katsu, just… this is embarrassing.”
“You- you should stop, Bakugo. She doesn’t want to keep going,” Todoroki said.
“We have a safe word, you vanilla bitch. Anyway, you’re the one making her uncomfortable.” He leaned into your ear and you felt his hot breath brush against your skin. “You really wanna stop, you say it, okay? I know I give you shit but I don’t want you doing anything you don’t wanna do,” he said.
You nodded your head but didn’t say anything. Katsu chuckled.
“I knew you were a slut. You hear that, dumbass? She loves being humiliated in front of you.”
You moaned and averted your eyes from the men as your face got even hotter.
“Stop covering up, baby. Let them see how pretty your body is. Show them why daddy loves fucking you so much.”
You slowly lowered your arms and gripped Katsu’s thighs again. Both Todoroki and Midoriya were flushing a deep shade of red, but neither made a move to leave. In fact, the bulges in their pants had only gotten bigger.
“Hm, baby, I bet you want them to fuck you, don’t you?”
“Wh-what?”
“Yeah, I can tell. You can’t stop fucking staring at them, and you haven’t said my name like you did before.”
He stopped bouncing you up and down for a moment and brought his palm down on your ass. You hissed at the sting.
“Moan for me, baby,” he said sternly, putting both hands on your waist again. He began to thrust deeper than before, picking up the pace.
“Katsu,” you whimpered, bringing your hand down to play with your clit. “You fit so well inside of me!”
“Yeah I do,” he hissed, continuing the pace. You felt another orgasm build inside of you, and it poured out with a string of moans. You clenched your walls around Katsuki’s cock, and he groaned, biting down on your shoulder. You yelped, but he didn't let go until your walls loosened around him.
“Good fucking girl,” he said again, licking at the marks he left. “Now for them.”
“What do you mean?” you stuttered nervously.
“Say their names. Shoto, Izuku. Moan for them. I want you too.”
Taking a shaky breath, you brought your fingers to your clit again and began to rub it up and down. “Ugh,” you whimpered as Katsu continued to fuck you relentlessly. “Izuku… ah…” You began to go faster and moaned even louder than before. “Shoto, ugh that- that feels so good,”
At the sound of you saying their names like that, they could no longer refrain from touching themselves. Without saying a word, both unbuckled their belts and let their cocks spring free as their pants and underwear pooled at their feet.
“Yeah, you bastards liked that?” Katsu laughed, biting softly on your shoulder again. “Why don’t you come fuck her too? You okay with that, baby?”
“Mhm-hm,” you groaned, unable to form another response.
“Look at them, m’kay? Who do you want in your mouth? I’m keeping this pussy. The other one will get your ass.”
“Uh,” you quickly looked back and forth between the men, unsure of which to choose.
“Deku’s dick is thicker,” Katsuki pointed out. “So it might hurt less. Unless you’re into that,” he chuckled.
Both men looked down self-consciously.
“Uh, okay. Izuku,” you mumbled.
“M’kay. Fuck her mouth for me, Deku. And you- there’s lube in that drawer.”
Todoroki quickly stepped over to get the lube.
“Hey- and don’t get any ideas, you hear me? You may fuck her tonight, but she’s still mine.”
Izuku nodded rapidly. “Don’t worry, Kacchan! I wouldn’t even think… wouldn’t even dream about it! I mean you two are obviously together and you’ve already been so generous with this, and-”
“Fuck my mouth, Deku,” you moaned, trying to keep your teeth from chattering as Katsu bounced you up and down on his lap.
“Hold on, baby, we gotta switch positions first. Don’t want you chomping down on Deku’s fat dick.
“F-fat?” Izuku stammered.
Katsu ignored him and stopped moving your hips up and down. You groaned at the loss of friction.
“Don’t worry, baby, it’ll be even better soon. Get on the floor on your hands and knees for me.”
You did as you were told, waiting for the three men to come closer.
“You-” Katsuki said to Todoroki, “bend over her.”
“What?”
“You heard me, dumbass. Put your legs around her, bend over, and stick yourself in her asshole.”
You whimpered at the idea.
“And you. Stand in front and let her suck you,” he said to Izuku.
“Uh- okay.”
The two men approached you cautiously. Todoroki was the first to act.
“I’m gonna… put my finger…”
“Yeah, go ahead,” you murmured.
His lubed up finger slowly entered you from behind as you moaned softly and rocked your hips back and forth. He slowly added another finger, stretching you out more and more.
“Are you ready now?”
“Mhm” you hummed.
As Todoroki gently pushed himself inside of you, Izuku stroked your hair and let you take him in your mouth.
“Move, motherfucker,” Katsu said, pushing Todoroki’s torso forward. He kneeled behind you and resumed where he left off, with his cock inside of you.
“Mmhph,” you moaned on Deku’s dick, and he inhaled sharply in response. From behind you, Todoroki was going at a slow pace, while Katsu was ramming his hips into yours. It felt so overwhelming, but so good at the same time. You couldn’t stop whimpering onto Izuku’s cock, and the vibrations from the sounds were quickly going to send him over the edge. But before he even came close, Katsuki’s deft fingers began to toy with your clit, and you felt another orgasm rising inside of you.
“Yes, Katsu, please, I’m going to come,” you attempted to say around Izuku.
“I can’t quite understand you, but I think I got it,” Kastu said, starting to move his fingers faster. Pleasure erupted from your clit, spreading throughout your entire body as you moaned and whimpered under your boyfriend’s still-moving fingers. Deku grabbed your hair and began to thrust in and out of your mouth, making you gag repeatedly. From behind you, Todoroki began to pick up the pace as well, slamming himself into you. You felt his dick reach places that no one had ever touched before, and you threw yourself onto him in an attempt to get him to go even deeper. After another minute or two, Izuku and Todoroki both began groaning and swearing, grabbing onto your body even tighter than before.
“Ah- yes, yes, just like that,” Deku moaned, pulling lightly on your hair. “You’re gonna make me cum, fuck.”
“Ah- me too,” Todoroki said, punctuating each word with heavy breaths.
You felt both of them release into you at the same time, swearing profusely as they did. Hot ropes of cum spurted into your mouth and asshole, and you nearly choked trying to swallow it while Deku was still pushing himself into your mouth. After a few seconds, both of them pulled away from you, covered in sweat and panting.
For the first time, Katsuki seemed to notice what was going on and stopped moving.
“Katsu?” you asked meekly. “Is something-”
“You fucking came already?” Katsuki shouted, enraged. He began pulling you into his hips again. “Fuck! I let you join us to show my baby a good time, but you can’t even last five fucking minutes? You’re fucking pathetic.”
He began to go faster as Deku’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “Sorry, Kacchan-”
“Don’t apologize to me, you bastard! Apologize to her! You couldn’t have even lasted a few more minutes? I’ve been fucking her for twenty. Assholes. She’s come three times today. There are three of us here. Wanna know how many times you two made her come?”
He paused angrily and huffed.
“Zero! Zero fucking times! You two used her like that and didn’t even make her come? You should be fucking ashamed of yourselves.”
You started to moan again. “Katsuki- daddy- please, you feel so good. I’m sorry you- haven’t even cum yet.”
“Mhm, don’t worry baby,” he said softly. “It’s gonna be soon, now.”
He paused for a moment. “Hey! Deku! Half-and-Half Bastard! Look at her! You see how she’s a whimpering mess for me? This-” he pinched your clit, making you cry out his name. “-is what you bastards can’t do. This-” he thrust into you particularly hard. “-is why I’m allowed to call her a slut and a whore, understand? I’m not some half-assed bitch who can’t even make a girl cum and only lasts a few minutes. This is what she wants, and I’m able to give it to her. She gets what he wants, and I get to tell her how much of a whore she is for wanting it. I thought you would be able to give her that, too! You’re supposed to be strong and tough and shit, and then you pull this?”
You were a moaning mess, barely even able to move. You felt a fourth orgasm clutch at your clit again. Even the pleasure was painful, in a way, and you felt your legs trembling.
“Katsu,” you whimpered.
“I know, baby, I’m so close.” He turned his attention to the men. “I thought I told you to fucking apologize!”
“I’m- I’m sorry,” both Deku and Todoroki said hurriedly.
“You two wanna watch a real man cum?”
They both stayed silent, and Katsuki took their lack of response as a yes.
He picked up the pace again, stroking your hair and face with one hand and gripping onto your hips with the other. “You take me so well, baby. You’re such a good girl. Do you want daddy to cum?”
“Yes please,” you murmured, unable to speak any louder.
“I’m so close, baby, just hold on a little longer, okay? You’ve been so good today.”
“O-okay,” you said.
Katsuki continued to moan and grunt from behind you, occasionally pausing to plant a kiss on your lower back.
“Fuck- fuck, I’m so close,” he moaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Ah- fuck- baby, finish me in your mouth.”
You quickly turned around and began to suck on Katsu’s cock, bobbing your head up and down and he guided you.
“Ah yeah, that’s it. Just a little faster, baby.”
You obliged and pushed away the suffocating feeling you were getting from having him so deep in your mouth. He was close, you reminded yourself.
“Fuck yes, fuck!” Katsuki yelled as thick lines of his cum erupted from his dick. “Fuck yeah, swallow daddy’s load.”
You swallowed and eagerly opened your mouth to show him it was gone.
“Tastes that good, huh?” he laughed, stroking your hair. “You’re so pretty when I fuck you, baby. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” you said, feeling your face get hot with embarrassment again.
Todoroki cleared his throat from the other end of the room. You saw fury flash through Katsu’s eyes again as he pulled on his boxers and tossed you his shirt to cover up with.
“You bastards don’t know how to treat a girl, do you? You think I’m going to neglect my girlfriend after all of that to talk to you idiots? You can see yourselves out if you’re uncomfortable, unless you need daddy to do it for you?” he mocked, glowering at them.
Todoroki’s face went bright red. “I-I- uh-”
“Get the fuck out of my room.”
Deku and Todoroki stepped gingerly into the hallway, casting a scared glance back at Katsu before walking away to their respective rooms.
Kastuski kneeled down next to you and began to stroke your hair again. “I’m sorry I yelled like that,” he said quietly. “I really am, I just- those assholes-”
“It’s okay, babe,” you said, wrapping him in your arms. He kissed the top of your head softly. “Katsuki?”
“What is it, darling?”
“That was fun, but… I’m glad they’re gone.”
Katsu laughed and kissed you again, this time sloppily on the lips. “I agree, baby.”
#tw smut#smut#smut warning#mha smut#bnha smut#bnha#mha#bakugou x y/n#bakugou smut#mha bakugou#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#todobakudeku x reader#todoroki smut#todoroki shoto#todoroki x reader#midoriya smut#deku x reader#deku smut#midoriya izuku
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Gene... My baby mama... I need... More alt!dream... Whatever you got fr. I just need more I'm.. I love him (probs not as much as you) but I love him
You're in luck bc I'm running on rip fuel for him. [ALSO I WROTE THIS BEFORE EVERYONE DID THE TECHWEAR STUFF FOR HIM I'M SORRY. I'LL GET IT IN NEXT TIME. I PINKY SWEAR.]
𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐃. ♘ 𝐚𝐥𝐭!𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 (𝟏𝟖+)
pairing: alt!Dreamwastaken x fm!reader
warnings: smut (18+), language, semi-public sex, light mentions of needles, domination
previous part ♘ fanart that i can't stop crying over
recommended listening: Hi Frequency by Vague002
The bus swayed slightly, your grip on the cool bar tightening to keep you from knocking into Clay as it turned. The dark city outside the windows bustled with sparkling lights, catching your eye every few seconds. As more people filed into the cramped space, Clay grabbed your hand, looping your arms around his waist and smugly grinning as you fought not to blush. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Will this be your first time in a parlor?” He asked, voice low and raspy as he whispered to you, not wanting to disturb the other members of society who just wanted to get home after a long day of work.
You nodded your head, making him chuckle. You knew it would be a different experience, mainly because it was taking place during the tattoo shops “after hours,” which Clay had only briefly explained the benefits of attending. “What are you getting done again?” You asked, moving so your hands were holding onto his arm instead, fingers brushing against the exposed skin peeking from beneath the cut-up shirt under his dark jacket.
He shrugged. “I couldn’t decide. Why don’t you pick?” He joshed, smirking at the way your eyebrows raised.
“I don’t want to be responsible for a mark on you,” you murmured, making him snort.
He hooked his fingers into the neckline of his shirt, stretching it down enough to reveal the litter of hickeys peppering his skin that you had left the night before. Your eyes widened as you swatted away his hand, looking around carefully in hopes that no one had seen them. He looped an arm around your shoulders, loving the fact that you were so worried about the crowd when all he wanted to do was fluster you.
He pressed his lips to your cheek, the warmth of his body encompassing you. “I love it when you get all blushy,” he teased. “Seriously though, you should pick. I won’t look at it if I don’t like it,” he snarked.
You groaned lightly. “Clay, come on.” He brushed his lips against yours.
“I trust you, sweetheart,” he cooed almost mockingly, his nose moving to press into your hair.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying your best to remember what was already on his body. You thought about the impending reality that whenever he saw the new tattoo, his mind would linger on you, and for some reason, heat traveled to your ears at that thought. “Um… what about a bird?” You asked, voice uneasy as if on eggshells.
His face twisted into a pleased smile. “A bird?” He repeated. You shrugged beneath his arm, making him chuckle. “I like that. George likes doing bird tattoos too, so you might just make his night,” he added, his praise and approval making your stomach fill with confidence. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your shoulder. Your mind began to forget what the two of you probably looked like to the other people as his scent invaded your senses. “Will you hold my hand while I’m in the chair?” He joked.
You scoffed. “Are you gonna cry?” You teased, making him chuckle.
“No, I’m just clingy,” he answered without skipping a beat. Your grin was hidden in the soft corduroy of his jacket.
The tattoo parlor was nothing like you had expected. The door was locked behind you after a bouncer let the two of you in, the man leading you two up a staircase and into a dimly lit room. The sound of heavy metal music and the buzz of tattoo guns swirled together, echoing off the dark brick walls. You slipped your hand into Clay’s as he talked to the receptionist, your eyes attempting to focus on one detail instead of letting the atmosphere overwhelm you.
The thick layer of smoke above your heads made you scoff, realizing it was coming from the opposite corner of the shop, a hookah lamp sitting on a coffee table like an outstretched octopus. The people around it seemed to be discussing something rather intense, their haircuts sharp and defining almost as if they stepped out of some kind of alternative fashion magazine. There were three tattoo artists, each with a white lamp focusing on their work as they carried on to the beat of the music.
Clay’s description of the place flashed into your mind, making you realize just how off the cards the parlor actually was. Clay took a toothpick from the receptionist’s desk, taking it between his white teeth before being waved down by a shorter man with dark hair across the floor. You followed closely behind him as Clay greeted the man; you quickly realizing that this was the famous George.
As Clay shrugged out of his jacket, George pulled out a binder, standing beside you as he flipped to a page with scattered drawings of different flight poses of birds. Your eyes drifted away from the page as Clay’s arms came into view. His old t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off was doing wonders for his biceps. Before you knew it, the two of you agreed on a mix of a few designs resembling a crow and Clay was laying on his back with his hand tucked behind his head. The spot he was filling was in the dead center of the flesh of his upper arm; a spot that George had grumbled about being awkward to reach, especially on someone as large as Clay.
You watched closely with curious eyes as George began to tattoo the design on Clay’s arm. Clay’s other hand was wrapped around the back of your elbow as you leaned on the chair at Clay’s side. His finger pads drew circles into your skin as you asked George about how he got into tattooing, making small talk here and there.
You liked George, mainly because he was quiet until he conjured up some kind of relentless backhanded comment. His tattoos revolved around a giant tree stretching from his back and down his arms. You wondered how long he had to sit for it and what the healing process was like. As he worked, his teeth played at his snake bite piercings, his dark eyes focused intently on the work in front of him.
Clay switched his toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his hand tightening around your arm with a small groan as George reached a sensitive spot. “Don’t be such a pussy,” he grumbled, continuing his work. He stopped, cleaning off some of the sprayed ink and filling a new cap with grey. “You have any work, pretty girl?” He asked you, voice low and charming.
You shook your head, earning a small tsk from him. “This is the closest she’s been to a tattoo gun,” Clay prided, making George sarcastically raise his eyes.
“A total virgin, huh?” He joked, winking at you. “Dream’s not corrupting you, is he?”
You chewed the inside of your cheek trying not to blush. “I’m trying,” Clay leered, smirking at you with his smug ego hinting at his lips.
George bit back a laugh. “Don’t get horny in my chair,” he muttered, eyes trained on the lines he was scaring into Clay. “Speaking of, I heard you got busted up by Punz, and by the looks of it… seems right,” he commented, gesturing to Clay’s eye that seemed to have started fading finally.
Clay let out a dry laugh. “His ribs are still healing,” you added, making George smirk with a shake of his head.
“You know what all that’s about right?” George asked you, taking his foot off the pedal to grab more paper towels from his desk. You looked up at Clay whose jaw tense as he chewed on the toothpick. After you shook your head, George continued. “Punz’s sister is stupidly in love with Dream,” he plopped back in his seat, swiveling his chair, and drawing a hand through his locks, revealing the bleached undersection. You had the fleeting mental image of him tying his hair back to reveal it.
He pulled on a new glove. “Madly in love, huh?” You pried, twisting your chair closer to Clay’s shoulder. Clay rolled his eyes at the fact as if he had been bugged about it for years. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend, Clay,” you teased, and he looked up at you with a tired expression, making you bite back a giggle.
After George finished, you followed Clay through the door, breathing in the fresh air; or as fresh as it could be in the midst of the city’s industrial square. Clay’s fingers knitted together with yours as he led you down an alleyway, flicking aside the toothpick. You chewed on your lip in anticipation before he pinned you against one of the walls. His devious grin sent shivers down your spine as you looked up at him.
You swallowed. “Shouldn’t you take it easy? Let your arm heal a bit?” You asked, voice coming out in a soft whisper as his lips pressed against your neck. “Won’t it hurt a bit with your ribs, too?” Your heart hammered in your chest at the fact that someone could turn the corner and catch the two of you.
He chuckled against your skin, slipping his hands beneath your skirt to grip your ass. “I like the pain,” he mused, tongue grazing against your skin as he pulled your hips against his. He kissed you hungrily as if not being able to press his body against yours for that hour was too much for him. His hand dropped to wrap around the back of your knee, moving his own leg to prop your thigh up against his hip as your hands dug into his hair.
The friction from his jeans made you moan into his mouth as his hand moved beneath your shirt, fingers fitting beneath your bra to palm your breast. He mumbled praises against your lips at how good you made him feel and how beautiful you were.
He turned you, your hands planting against the coarse brick as he ground his hips against you. You bit your lip, trying not to be loud enough to draw attention to the two of you, which seemed to be the last thing on Clay’s mind as you heard him unbuckle his belt behind you. You could practically picture his cocky grin, controlling eyes set as his hand gripped onto your hips, shoving your underwear to the side. “You were so much fun to show off tonight,” he chided darkly, lips brushing against your shoulder. “Such a good girl.”
As he pushed into you, one of his hands moved to knot into your hair. He moaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, tugging on your hair as he pulled your hips back against his. A low grunt tumbled from his lips as he set his rhythm, basking in the fact that you were secretly ready for him to ruin you as soon as you stepped into the parlor.
His fingers moved to wrap around your neck, the thought of his tattooed hand tightening around your pristine skin sent shivers through your body and heat flushing your cheeks, the tension in your body tightening. As he pressed you closer against the wall, you thought about the power he had over you; his height and build would make it easy for him to break you if he wanted, yet even as he pounded into you like he wanted you to forget your own name, the restraint he showed was enough to send you over the edge if you let yourself divulge in the thought.
Clay pulled out of you, only to turn you, your shoulders hitting the wall again with a soft thump as he hoisted you up ever so slightly, thrusting up into you as his hand dig into your thigh, the other resting against the brick beside your head. Your arms looped beneath his jacket, raking down his skin as you held onto him.
He groaned as your thighs tightened around him, making his hips stutter as if he were trying not to let himself finish too early. He dug is face into the crook of your neck, burying his teeth in your neck to stifle his grunts of your name. Your head tilted back against the brick, hand moving to tighten around the wrist that was beside your head for some kind of anchor.
His hand wrapped around your waist, driving himself deeper into you, brushing the part of you that needed him the most. You moaned, carding your fingers into his hair as he pressed his lips to yours roughly, wanting to taste your pleasure as it washed over you from his movements.
You tugged on his hair, making his cock throb inside of you, him finishing inside you with a low groan, his hips snapping against yours to stimulate a reaction from you. The feeling of his sloppy pleasure as his movements lost their rhythm sent your hips grinding against his, his teeth marking your shoulders as a reminder of his work on you.
Your toes curled, finally reaching your orgasm as he murmured dirty expressions of him ruining your pretty clothes against the wall. As he pulled out of you, your knees felt weak, threatening to buckle beneath you. You tried not to give off how much he had trashed you, but the warmth snaking down your thighs and your bliss-ridden mind proved otherwise.
Long story short, the bus ride home was rather interesting.
Dream Taglist: (follow this link to be added :))
@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @darphobic @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @lindsayhunz @shroomieissmall @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @victory-is-here @rat-poisin
#dream x fem!reader#dream x reader#alt!dream#alt!dreamwastaken#dreamwastaken imagine#dreamwastaken smut#dreamwastaken fanfic#dream smut#dream imagine#dream x you#mcyt fanfiction#mcyt x y/n#mcyt x reader#mcyt smut
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*gif not mine
The Mandalorian x Jedi!Reader
Summary: Upon arriving on Corvus, you realize you won’t be able to hide your secret from your Mandalorian traveling partner forever, especially since the Jedi you encounter asks a lot of questions...
Word Count: 4.1k
A/N: Spoilers for Chapter 13 so read at your own risk! I think we all need a little something after the tragedy in Chapter 14. By the way, this is a gender-neutral reader ;)
***
The closer you got to Corvus, the further down your stomach sank to the floor. Your heart beat faster against your rib cage as anticipation rose inside you. The day that the Mandalorian came to you saying that he knows where to find a Jedi for the Child, you were shocked. Of course you were happy that the kid will finally get a teacher, but you were shocked that there were still Jedi around.
Your leg bounced up and down as the landscape of Corvus came to view in the windshield. You took a deep breath, and left the cockpit, trying to avoid any questions that the Mandalorian might ask. The Child was asleep in his little hammock, and your heart ached for the little guy. From the first moment you saw him, you knew something was special about him. Well, you sensed it, really. And you hoped that the Child wouldn’t say anything, and thankfully, he didn’t.
You reached over, and picked up the tiny creature, his black eyes revealing themselves as his green lids pulled back.
“Listen,” you whispered, bringing his face close to yours. “When we find that Jedi, you don’t say anything, got it? Do not blow this for us.”
Of course, he didn’t repsond to your warning, but instead cocked his head and cooed. You rolled your eyes and shifted him so he was sitting on your hip.
“We’re here,” the Mandalorian announced as he climbed down the ladder and opened the hatch door.
You took another deep breath, and straightened your back before following the Mandalorian out.
***
You’ve been wandering around the forest on Corvus for a while now, your stomach turning with every step. After visiting the seemingly enslaved village and meeting the Magistrate, you followed the Mandalorian into the wilderness to find the Jedi named Ahsoka Tano.
You constantly turned your head in search for the Jedi, dreading the impending moment of your meeting. You rested your hand on your blaster, your heart beating rapidly.
“So you’re not really gonna kill this Jedi, right?” you asked, looking at your beskar clad companion with wide eyes.
“No,” he simply replied.
You nodded, looking about your surroundings again. The Mandalorian set the Child down on a nearby rock, bringing his binoculars to his visor. You were so in depth in your own thoughts and anxieties that you didn’t even hear him talking. Sweat was collecting on your brow as you thought about what this Jedi will be like. You have heard stories of her bravery and her part in the Clone Wars, but that was years ago. Was she a different person now? Would she try to kill the Mandalorian? A crack from a tree drew you out of your thoughts, and a person descended from above.
You moved over to the Child, reaching for your blaster as the Mandalorian struggled with the intruder. But the sight of the white lightsabers didn’t do anything to relax you. You could feel the heat from the Mandalorian’s flame thrower as he set her cloak on fire. You thought she was contained once he tied her, but never under estimate a Jedi. She gave him a smirk before jumping up, back bending over a branch, dragging the Mandalorian with her. Once on the ground, she ignited her lightsabers, freeing herself from the restraints, and preparing herself in a battle stance.
“Ahsoka Tano,” the Mandalorian yelled. “Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.”
You watched as she straightened herself from her fighting stance, pulling back her sabers to her sides. She was as intimidating as you imagined.
“I hope it’s about him,” she said, looking over to the spot where you and the Child were.
***
Your leg once again was bouncing as you settled yourself on rock. The Mandalorian’s pacing was no help to you at all, only increasing your nerves. You looked over at the campfire, with Ahsoka and the Child just staring at each other in silence. You have heard about this technique, in fact it was how you were found out years ago on Tatooine.
Mando’s pacing wouldn’t cease, much to your annoyance. You never done what you were about to do, but you needed to know what was going on in his head. You were always so careful to hide your true identity from the man, in fear of what he would do to you if he uncovered the truth. However, something didn’t rub you right. You closed your eyes, concentrating and reaching out into the darkness. You could sense his own anxiety about the situation, but you left it there. If you lingered too long, he could catch wind. Ever since you came across him and the kid on his first trip to Tatooine, you could sense the bond between the two. When he mentioned about finding the Child a teacher, you knew it would be difficult for him.
The Mandalorian stopped and began to make his way towards Ahsoka who was holding the Child. You got up from where you were perched and followed your companion. You listened carefully to everything that Ahsoka said, from the time of Child’s training up to the present. Plus, you were pleasantly surprised to find his name was Grogu. Ahsoka ended the conversation on a hopeful note of Grogu’s training in the morning. You nodded, getting up from your spot as Mando grabbed the Child, Grogu, to prepare a place to make for camp.
“Wait,” Ahsoka spoke up, getting your attention. “Can you stay here for a minute?” You nodded to her, sitting on a nearby log before waving off Mando, who nodded and continued to make his way. You pressed your lips into a thin line while clearing your head from any impending thoughts. Your heart was pounding once again. You rubbed your hands over your thighs. “You know a blaster isn’t a Jedi weapon.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, gripping your thighs in defense.
“Really?” Ahsoka replied. “Because Grogu said something very interesting-”
“Dammit,” you whispered, dropping your head while letting out a sigh. “What did he say?”
“He mentioned that you knew the Force,” Ahsoka began. “But you were hiding it.”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “That sounds about right.”
Ahsoka was quiet for a moment, and you felt her eyes peering into you despite your steady gaze on the forest floor.
“Where are you from?” she asked.
“Tatooine,” you mumbled, before meeting her eyes.
She nodded, shifting in her seat a bit.
“Have you practiced with a lightsaber?” she questioned, quirking up an eyebrow.
“Once,” you revealed. “But my master thought it would be too dangerous to have one with the Empire and all so-”
“Wait,” Ahsoka interjected, holding up a hand. “Who was your master?”
You realized your mistake. The air escaped your lungs as your heart sank to your stomach. You got up from your seat abruptly. What you needed to keep a secret, you almost let out.
“No one important,” you said. “It’s late, so I’m going to go get some rest.”
You didn’t wait to hear her reply. You practically ran back to the Mandalorian, who was resting his head on a log as he laid on the ground. Grogu was nestled in one of arms, fast asleep.
You tiptoed to where they were at on the ground, and moved to lay beside Mando, with your back to him and an inch or two between your bodies. You tried to even out your breathing, and put aside the questions that Ahsoka was asking. You had one job, and you almost blew it from the slight excitement that maybe you weren’t alone in the galaxy.
“What did she want?” Mando asked, his voice tinged with sleepiness and gruff through the modulator.
“Nothing important,” you lied, turning over to face him. “Just some stuff about the Child.”
Mando hummed, then out-stretched his arm as an invitation. You moved closer to him, placing your head on the clothed part of his bicep. Mando’s hand rested on your hip, and began to draw shapes with his thumb.
“Do you think she will be a good teacher for him?” he asked, uncertainty laced in his voice.
“I do,” you answered.
You closed your eyes and started to drift into sleep, trying in vain to forget about Ahsoka for now.
***
You were awoken from your sleep when a hard object was dropped on your stomach, the air from your lungs escaping. Your eyes flew open as you went to cradled your abdomen. A gasp nearly escaped your lips if it wasn’t for a hand covering your mouth. You looked up to see Ahsoka crouched above you, pressing a finger to her lips before motioning her head to follow her. She retracted her hand, and walked off. You took a deep breath, and looked over to Mando. For being a well trained Mandalorian, he can sleep like the dead when he wanted to.
You slipped out from his arm, grabbing at the object that Ahsoka dropped on you. On closer inspection, you realized it was one of her lightsabers. Anger rose in you for her lack of dropping a topic. You marched over to where she stood, a good distance away from the Mandalorian and Child.
“What the hell!” you whispered yelled, waving your arms.
“A Jedi needs to practice,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders before igniting her lightsaber, illuminating her features in the darkness.
“I’m not a Jedi,” you said through gritted teeth. “I’m just Force-sensitive.”
“Oh really?” Ahsoka said in unbelief. Ahsoka reached her hand out, lifting up a rock that was a bit bigger than the Child’s size, and threw it at you. Panic arose at first, but by instinct, you rose your hand out in response. The rock was suspended in mid air right before your face. “I usually wouldn’t do that unless I knew for certain. That was just to show you that I didn’t believe you.”
You dropped your hand, the rock falling in front of you. You tightened your grip on Ahsoka’s lightsaber. If this is what she wants, then it’s what she’s going to get. You ignited the lightsaber in your hand, shifting your feet to a fighting stance that your Master once taught you. You saw the slight smirk that appeared on Ahsoka’s face as she too brought her lightsaber up with her backhand.
Ahsoka was the first to lunge forward, bringing down her saber onto yours as you rose it in a defense. You kept your feet planted to the ground as you pushed forward, then swung at Ahsoka, who blocked your advance. It was like a choreograph dance as you and Ahsoka sparred around the open space. The sound of the colliding beams filled the air along with your grunts. The lights of the clashing sabers nearly blinded you several times, but you didn’t let that stop you. You were taught better. You pushed Ahsoka aside one more time, before she looked at you, straightening her back.
“Who was your Master?” Ahsoka asked through deep breaths.
You ignored her question, and lunged forward again, bringing your lightsaber down on Ahsoka who blocked it last second. She pushed against the collided sabers, using more strength than before, causing you to stumble back. While caught off guard, Ahsoka bent down, swiping a leg against yours, making you fall down on the ground. The lightsaber flew out of your hand, switching off before Ahsoka grabbed it. She once again stood above you, but this time her lightsaber hovered over your face.
“I’m going to ask you this one more time,” she reiterated. “Who was your Master?”
You gave her a smirk, before reaching out your hand. The unlit lightsaber flew out of Ahsoka’s hand, returning once again to yours. You ignited the saber, clashing it against hers so it was away from you. You lifted your leg, and pushed Ahsoka with your foot. She fell backwards, but quickly got up, however you were faster. You scrambled to your feet, lightsaber in hand, and jumped onto a nearby boulder. You looked down at Ahsoka, switching off your lightsaber.
“Obi Wan Kenobi,” you revealed.
Ahsoka stumbled back, turning off her saber as her eyes widen down at you. You moved down from the boulder to a sitting position on the floor, watching Ahsoka’s reaction while trying to catch your breath from your bout. She let out a little laugh before sitting down across from you.
“Obi Wan trained you?” she asked.
You nodded.
“It seems like a forever ago, but yes,” you began. “I was living on Tatooine, and he found me. He only taught me little stuff like using the Force, and had me mess around with a lightsaber once. He was afraid that if I grew too much that the Empire will notice, so he ended our training.”
You looked down at the forest floor, admiring the tangled roots from the nearby trees. So different from the sands of Tatooine. You remembered Obi Wan’s kind face and smooth instruction. He was always so patient with you even if you doubted yourself. You remembered the time when you went to visit him, but found his hermit’s hole empty. You waited for so long, but he never returned. You thought back to the time where you sat in his place, reaching out through the Force to feel him. But emptiness filled you when you couldn’t feel him. Looking up at Ahsoka’s sad eyes, you sensed that she knew about his absence in the galaxy as well.
“I can see some of him in you when you fight,” Ahsoka said, fingering her lightsaber. “But I sense some fear in you.” You gulped, looking down again at the ground. “What are you afraid of?”
You took a deep breath, thinking about your beskar clad warrior who you temporarily left behind. There was no way that you could hide anything from the Jedi before you.
“I don’t know,” you started, rubbing your hands over your forearms.
Ahsoka smirked again, putting her hands behind her to lean back.
“It’s the Mandalorian isn’t it?” she inquired, cocking up an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” you sighed. “I try to conceal my identity from him because I’m afraid how he would react. Everyone knows that Mandalorians and Jedi aren’t on the friendliest of terms-”
“That’s an understatement,” Ahsoka snorted.
“And,” you continued. “I don’t want him to hate me. I mean the kid-”
“Grogu,” Ahsoka corrected.
“Knew about who I am,” you continued, once again. “He used the Force multiple times in front of the Mandalorian but he’s only a child. And he was given the task to help him find a teacher. I’m not a kid, and if he finds out, I’m just scared that he’ll leave.”
Ahsoka sat there, absorbing everything while nodding. She tilted her head.
“You love him don’t you?” Ahsoka asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes,” you replied.
***
You listened to the villagers’ joyous noises as they celebrated the victory over the Magistrate. Their outfits changed from dreary gray and brown to green and blue. You assisted Ahsoka and Mando in freeing the city, shooting down droids and defending the villagers. Despite all the fighting and blaster shots, you were impressed to see how well you all worked together, especially Mando and Ahsoka. If anything, it gave you hope for your situation. But was it different for them compared to you? Does he rather work with a Jedi who he has never met before to one who was hiding their identity to him? You shook the question aside, choosing to instead watch the people. Ahsoka smiled in pride, and gave over the pure beskar staff to the Mandalorian before he set off to retrieve the Child.
You waited alongside the Jedi, admiring the people’s celebration as they reinstated their original leader before the Empire took over. But some time has passed, and the Mandalorian was no where in sight. After much silent deliberation, you and Ahsoka decided to head over to the Razor Crest instead.
You navigated through the foliage, dodging roots and rocks here and there. It was silent between the two of you until Ahsoka broke it.
“You know I can’t train him,” she said, repeating her conclusion from yesterday morning.
You let out a sigh, remembering how Grogu proved himself with moving his favorite metal ball from Mando’s hand to his. You were so proud with him, but that was instantly crushed when Ahsoka gave her verdict. You glanced down at the forest floor, reevaluating your options for the little guy, but it was slim to none.
“What if I trained him?” you asked, looking up to see her reaction only to be met with a blank expression. “I don’t know much, but I could teach him how to control it and when to use it. Plus, Master Obi Wan taught me about meditation so-”
“Y/N,” Ahsoka interrupted holding up a hand, and stopping in her tracks. You ceased your walking in return, looking at her. Ahsoka shook her head, her eyebrows coming together as she looked down before meeting your gaze. “You can’t train him either.”
“Why not?” you demanded, disbelief creeping in your voice. “He needs someone to help him, he’s just a child-”
“You have an attachment as well,” Ahsoka interjected. You felt like she just punched you in the stomach. It was true, but knowing that she could tell and hearing her say it out loud made it sound so real. You stared at her in a loss of words. “Jedi cannot have any attachments, it could lead you down a dark path. Like Grogu, you were in hiding too, in a way. It’s just not wise.”
Ahsoka returned to her walking, leaving you standing there. Obi Wan did tell you the stories and lore of the Jedi, and everything about the Light and Dark side. He instilled the principles of the Light side, and you always planned to uphold them, despite your slight attachment to the Mandalorian. You jogged to catch up with Ahsoka.
“You’re wrong,” you said, holding up an air of confidence. “I won’t let my attachment lead me anywhere near the Dark side.”
“Funny,” Ahsoka replied. “I knew someone who thought the same.”
“Unlike that person,” you defended. “I will succeed.”
“A Mandalorian and a Jedi,” Ahsoka hummed, looking up at the gray sky above you two. “Quite a combination.”
You shrugged your shoulders, before looking over at her. She met your gaze as she raised an eyebrow at you.
“It’s all about balance,” you said.
***
The hull in the Razor Crest was quiet except for the little noises coming from Grogu. The Mandalorian resided in the cockpit as he set the coordinates to your next destination. You could tell how lost he was when Ahsoka reaffirmed her previous conclusion to him, but she didn’t leave you totally in the dark. She provided you some instructions to find Grogu a teacher and to decide his fate, but you yourself were uneasy in the whole matter. You knew you could train him. Hell, you even came across him, and you’re a Jedi.
You looked down at the little green creature who was sitting in your lap, his dark eyes staring up at you. You bounced him a little, while he giggled.
“What are we going to do with you, Grogu?” you asked, meaning for it to be rhetorical, but he tilted his head at you at the mention of his name. “By the way, I didn’t forget what you did. You really had to tell Ahsoka about me, traitor? We had a deal.”
You knew he wouldn’t say anything, but you still smiled at him. You pet his ears, and he cooed with content.
“I can’t be mad at you,” you sighed.
Your attention was pulled away from Grogu when the sound of boots hitting the metal rungs of the ladder echoed throughout the haul. The Mandalorian approached you, his figure towering over you while casting a shadow. He bent down, and picked up the Child, before returning him to his hammock in the bunk. Mando shut the door before turning to you, his gaze burning a hole into you despite the beskar helmet.
“We need to talk,” he said, stepping closer to where you were seated in the haul.
“About what?” you questioned, blood roaring in your ears as fear gripped your heart. What if he knew?
“I saw you,” Mando began, his voice even and steady. “That night on Corvus, you left with Ahsoka. I followed you. I saw you. You have the same power as the kid. You used a lightsaber like Ahsoka.” With every sentence, the Mandalorian took a step forward until he was right before you. Your heart hammered in your chest, tears brimming the rims of your eyes as you tried to keep your emotions in check. What if this was it? You couldn’t bear to leave him and the Child, but now it seems like you have no choice. You took a deep breath, watching him carefully. He gave off no inclination on what he’s about to do. His hands were steady by his sides, his breathing was even, and his voice was unwavering. “Are you a Jedi?”
“Yes,” you whispered, looking at the floor instead of his visor. You gripped your own arms with a vice, reminding you to stay grounded before getting overwhelmed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his features unchanging.
You swallowed a lump in your throat before standing up. You needed to face your fear, and not let it overcome you. You straightened your back, staring into the expressionless helmet.
“Because I was scared,” you started. “I was scared that you wouldn’t want to take me on as a crew mate. I was scared that you would desert me on a planet all by myself. I was scared that I would lose you. The Mandalorians’ enemy is the Jedi, and I was scared that if you found out you wouldn’t want anything to do with me-”
You were cut off when Mando grabbed your biceps, pulling you forward until you were wrapped in his arms. Your cheek was pressed against his chest plate, his hands pressing into your back. You were silenced by his sudden actions. You wound your arms around him, before letting the tears fall from your eyes to run down the beskar. He didn’t want to kill you, or leave you. He wasn’t disgraced by taking in the enemy of his people. Instead, he was embracing one.
“Listen to me,” he said. “I would never do that to you. After everything we’ve been through, I could never do that to you. I care about you, Y/N.” He pulled you back a bit, while keeping his hands on you. You stared up at the helmet, but if you looked closely, you could see the outline of his eyes. He caressed your cheek, the leather of his gloves soft against your cheek. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” he said, his voice softening.
You didn’t know what he meant, but from his tender caresses and gentle voice, you knew he was speaking from his heart.
“So you don’t mind having a Jedi on board with you?” you asked, humor hinted in your voice.
“No,” he replied. “Now two Jedi, I might have to think about it.”
You gave him a playful punch to his bicep, a laugh coming from his modulator. His hands came to rest on your hips, before he reached in one of your pockets, and pulling out a small object.
“What’s this?” Mando asked, holding the object up in the light.
You grabbed the object from his hand, and held it up higher.
“It’s a kyber crystal,” you answered, admiring the gift from Ahsoka. Before departing from Corvus, she pulled you aside once again, handing you the crystal. You were a Jedi after all, and she thought you should have a Jedi weapon instead of carrying around a blaster. Though Obi Wan is gone, she wanted you to know that there are more Jedi out there. “They power lightsabers. Ahsoka gave it to me so I can construct my own lightsaber when I’m ready. But I don’t think I’m going to do it.”
“Why not?” Mando questioned.
“Well, our focus is the Child. We don’t exactly have time to stop everything to build one,” you tried to reason.
“Not now,” he said. “But maybe in the near future.”
“Really?” you asked, excitement in your voice. “You would help me?”
“Of course, cyar’ika,” he affirmed. “A Mandalorian and a Jedi, they’ll never see it coming.”
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum- I love you
Mando Taglist: @absurdthirst @tangledlove27
#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#mandalorian x reader#din djarin#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian season two#ahsoka the mandalorian#ahsoka tano#star wars#sw#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal x reader#gn!reader
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Keepin’ it in the Family
Manfred—Freddy for short—was a young man that spent his life in the shadow of his uncle’s side of the family. Meek, shy, unassuming, and more of an indoors type. “I’m more of a type B kind of fellow,” he would answer whenever someone asked him what kind of person he was. Meanwhile, Daniel Crawford and his son, Alex, were the exact opposite. Tall, strong, and always willing to get down and sweaty in an activity. They often dominated every family gathering and gleefully hogged the spotlight shined on them.
“Did you know Alex got a football scholarship… Daniel bought a second house… oh my gawd, li’l Danny got so buff last year, can’t believe he used to be my younger bro…!” On and on Freddy would hear until he got sick of it.
“Why dontcha join a team or somethin’, squirt?” his cousin Alex teased him while roughly messing up his hair. Although Freddy couldn’t deny his cousin was annoying and far too energetic, he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. There was always an authenticity behind his invites to play football with his friends. He was brutish but kind. That was all.
Freddy’s uncle Daniel was a different story.
On a certain day during a family gathering, Daniel concerned Freddy in a hallway. “Perhaps if you applied yourself more," he once told Freddy, the disdain clear in his voice, "you'd get as far as my boy does in life." The rest of the family was just a few rooms away, but their cheerful voices were worlds away. “But until you do that, I want you to stop spending any time with Alex. Honestly don’t know why he wastes his precious youth on someone like you.”
Freddy didn't respond but nodded while glaring defiantly at the floor. He jumped back as his uncle grabbed him by the throat and forcefully tilted his head upwards. Freddy let out a sharp hiss of pain but prevented himself from screaming.
With a low voice, his uncle Daniel said, “Look at me while I’m speaking, you little shit. Don’t want your mediocrity holding my golden son back. Stay away from him or else.” He punctuated his last words by shoving Freddy to the wall. “Can’t believe you and your father are related to us. Well, guess we know who got the better genes in the family.”
Freddy glared at him as he walked away. It was painful, but he could endure. As long as he lived, he would not let this abuse break him. The day would come when he would prove him wrong.
However, it all came to a head about a week ago, when Freddy announced his plans for a graduation party. Most of the replies in the texts he sent out for his family were some variation of, “Oh, I’m sorry Freddy, but your uncle Danny is planning to celebrate his promotion at work that day. Perhaps you can reschedule.” As always, Freddy remained overshadowed.
“Bastards,” Freddy’s father, a rotund and balding man by the name of Benny, exclaimed as he saw the texts. “Can’t even spare a day for you. It’s always those two pricks.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Freddy muttered, glaring down at the texts on his phone. How often had his family ignored him in favor of those two? How often did his uncle mistreat him to guarantee that his ‘golden child’ Alex would remain as successful as he was? The questions kept echoing in his mind until, finally, he decided to cut this cycle.
“If you want,” his father tried again, “we can spend that weekend just the two of us, son. We can travel and celebrate our way."
“It’s all right, dad. I know exactly what I’m gonna do,” said Freddy as he marched off to his room. He would have to draw up the runes and memorize the incantations before long. By being efficient, he would have the spell all set by dawn’s early light.
However, his father stopped him by placing a firm hand on his shoulder—a rarity. “Hold on son," Benny said in a tender voice. "I understand what you're going through, believe me, I know. I was never the golden child of the family either. Danny made sure of that." There was disdain in Benny's voice that Freddy had never heard from before, but he had little time to dwell on it as his father continued. "But, to me, you'll always be the golden child, Freddy. I just want you to know that." Then, Benny pulled his son in for a hug.
Freddy eagerly returned in, shoving his thoughts of revenge to the back of his mind for the moment. Now, he just wanted to spend time with his father. Dusk came and went, and the two bid each other good night as they settled into their rooms on different floors. With nothing to interrupt Freddy, he set off to work.
It began when he found a book of occult rituals and spells in his father's study. Never had Benny spoken about this to Freddy, and Freddy lacked the courage to confront his father about it. Instead, he took photos of the various pages of spells and tried them out for himself—another reason why he did not want his father to know that he knew. By doing this magic in secret, Freddy could indulge in his fantasies that were now just a spell away. Coaches, classmates, and neighbors all fell to his charms and rituals; fulfilling deviant actions according to his whims.
My father can never know, Freddy thought bitterly to himself as he drew the sigils on his rug with chalk, he’ll never know so he’ll always be proud of me, his pure and hard-working son.
Tonight would be the first time Freddy would attempt the possession spell as well as the first time he broke a rule he had set for himself when he first began to use magic: never involve a family member. Now, he read through the procedure on his phone and prepared to sink into an even deeper level of deviancy. A bit of the text at the bottom of the page was faded, but the instructions were all written out. It’s most likely flavor text, Freddy thought.
This spell would allow the invoker to project his soul towards an unassuming target. From then on, a battle of wills would begin, and the dominant soul would take over the body. The invoker is not guaranteed to be successful. Caution must be exercised, and a strong will is heavily recommended.
It was a frightening thought, but Freddy did not allow that to slow him down. His hands trembled with excitement and his heart raced with pure adrenaline as he pictured his uncle’s sexy yet punchable face.
In the heat of the moment, Freddy cast the spell alongside the rising sun. Once those accursed words left his lips, a sharp and painful sensation spread throughout his body. It was as if his soul was being stretched and twisted, like a rubber band. However, he just gritted his teeth and endured it as he always did. The suffering of a spell or his uncle’s harassment was all the same—nothing he couldn’t handle. However, when the pain continued to grow in magnitude, Freddy was afraid this spell was going to rip his soul in half.
Then came the release—the catharsis. The spell catapulted Freddy’s soul at a speed rivaling that of a bullet train’s. Freddy screamed both in terror and sheer jubilation as his soul traveled through the dawn-dyed sky. Everything, even the sun, was a blurry mess until he arrived at his uncle’s expensive house, where he finally stopped. He was back in control.
Slowly, Freddy glided through the halls of a home that alienated him for most of his life. While searching for his uncle’s room, he stumbled upon his cousin Alex sleeping on top of the covers, clad in just a pair of boxer briefs. Though Freddy intended to keep moving, he remained still and watched his cousin’s chest slowly rise and fall as he slept peacefully.
“You deserve a better father,” Freddy whispered, caressing his cousin’s cheek with his ghostly hand. His voice and touch were nothing more than a chilly breeze on Alex’s bare skin. When Freddy noticed the goosebumps that spread down his cousin’s arms, he drew back and excused himself from the room. His target still needed to be punished.
A few hallways later, Freddy found himself floating above his uncle. Daniel, just like his son, slept above his covers and nearly in the nude to deal with the brutal summer heat. Even so, beads of sweat still glistened in his half-naked, furry body. His breathing was just as peaceful and gentle as Alex's as it passed through his heart-shaped lips. "If only you were as kind as you look while sleeping," Freddy said as he glared down at Daniel. Hatred and lust pushed him forward, and he gleefully enacted his plan.
Having spent quite a long time manipulating the wills of men, Freddy knew that the best way to overwhelm them was to do so post-coitus. “You’ll be my ticket to happiness,” he whispered to his uncle, “you piece of shit asshole.” He began by running his tongue down his uncle’s bare chest, giving the nipple a lick.
The effect was immediate. Daniel’s eyes shot open as he shivered at the paranormal touch. He looked around, perplexed. “What the fuck?” he said.
Freddy snickered at his uncle’s confusion. He pushed his uncle back onto the bed, one hand twirling and playing with his nipples while another teased the bulge hidden by the briefs. “W-Woah, oh shit!” said Daniel, trying to kick his invisible assaulter away to no avail. When the sensation didn’t stop, Daniel attempted to rise only for Freddy to roughly shove him back onto the bed again.
“I’m not done with you!” Freddy roared to his uncle’s terror. The rush of power was intoxicating, and Freddy greedily drank in every pathetic whimper and moan from his uncle. He pulled his underwear off, revealing his uncle’s large hard-on, and threw it to the side. “God, you’re thick,” Freddy moaned as he took his uncle’s cock in his hand. “C’mon, cum for me, old man,” he said as his lips played with the pecs. He continued to mercilessly play with his uncle, humping his body to elicit more of his moans.
“N-No—aahh, mmm! Pl-Please stoooAAAAHH—stop!” said Daniel as he felt his core tighten. Freddy noticed it too and quickly released his uncle from his sexual grasp. “AH! Oh fuck, I’m—ngh!” said Daniel as his abused dick begged for release.
“Not yet, that's gonna be my climax, uncle," Freddy said. To reward his uncle was far more than what the bastard deserved. Instead, Freddy would steal his climax, his body, and his dignity. “You’re mine!” he said, caution be damned as he dove into his uncle’s body.
“F-Fred—OOF!” The sheer force of Freddy’s dive caused his uncle to bounce on the mattress. “Oh FUCK!” Daniel cried out as he felt impossibly full. Two souls occupied the same space, and much like the shifting plates of the ever-changing earth, stress was born of this conflict. Daniel gritted his teeth, even more sweat coating his convulsing body as he attempted to hold onto his consciousness. However, Freddy’s essence continued to spread.
The possession spell operated on a similar concept as ink falling upon a cup of pure water. Slowly, the water would darken as it took on the shade of the ink until it was almost completely indistinguishable from the original ink that tinted—or tainted—it.
Just as the ink colored the water, so too did Freddy’s soul spill and tint his uncle’s very essence—mind, body, and spirit. Daniel, of course, continued to push his nephew’s soul out of him. He kicked at his bed and gripped his sheets so tightly his veins were visible in his arms. Until the very last second, he tried to will his body back under his control. However, he eventually collapsed onto his bed, eyes rolling into the back of his head, and blacked out. His body convulsed for a few more minutes as it took on the last remains of Freddy's essence, before finally quieting down.
Freddy opened his new eyes and immediately put his attention back on his uncle's dick. "Oh god, uncle, you're so sensitive!" he said as he continued stroking himself. “I-I’m CUMMING!” he bellowed as he shot load after load in his new form, seeing white as he fell back onto the sweat-covered sheets. “Oh my god, Danny-boy, I can’t wait to wreck you today.” Freddy would seize the day, and by nightfall, he would make his uncle a shame upon his family.
A few hallways away, Alex had his own visitor.
“S-Stop, uncle!” Alex screamed as the much larger soul of Benny finished entering his younger body. “Y-You can’t—AH! AAAHHH!” He whimpered and moaned just as his father did before collapsing into a mess of convulsing limbs.
Alex blacked out, and his uncle Benny awoke. “God, that felt good,” he said, stretching his new, muscular body. It was pleasurably sore after the workout he gave his unwilling nephew. “Ya got a good lookin’ bod, kid,” he said, grinning as he rubbed his hands down his new form. “But it’s my turn to be the golden child, if only for a day,” he finished, excited to have his hole filled in a day filled with debauchery.
Unbeknownst to father and son, there was more to the spell lost as the ink faded from the page. It read as follows:
Just as the water becomes nearly inseparable from the ink, the souls also become unable to be torn apart. There is no hope for the water to become pure and no hope for the ink to be whole. They are bound together for eternity, as are the souls tainted by the invoker. The invoker’s body will perish upon the spell’s completion, and the invoker will remain in their new body until the possession spell is used again, thus killing the old target.
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tongue burn | k. sunwoo
☕ pairing: bf! sunwoo x fem!reader ☕ word count: 1.1k ☕ genre: fluff, suggestive end ☕ tw: swear words, brief mention of explicit content near the end. ☕ synopsis: sunwoo burns his tongue and you kiss it better. ☕ a/n: this fic was originally meant for juyeon but i realised that sunwoo fit this concept better 😉 ☕ requested: nope!
╰☆☆☆☆╮
A yawn escaping your mouth, you stretched your arms above your head while whining, a few vertebrae popping along. The relieving sensation forced a groan out of your mouth, your hand moving from under you to feel the empty spot next to you in bed. Frowning when you couldn’t feel your partner, you sat up and arose from your slumber and sat still for a couple of seconds before grabbing Sunwoo’s zip-up black hoodie and wrapped it around your shoulders.
Walking out of the bedroom, you stifled another yawn, a longer one this time, and readjusted the item of clothing around you. The sound of some pans clinking against one another and a boiling kettle drew you to the kitchen, the amazing smell of pancake awakening your taste buds. Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the sunny kitchen as you came in, a tall figure standing in front of the windows, concentrated on the stove in front of it.
You remained quiet as you leant against the doorframe with your arms crossed, watching your boyfriend tackling his task with enthusiasm. He was humming a song you recognized to be romantic and smiled, his silhouette only clad in grey sweatpants distracting you from his faint, lower voice. You bit your bottom lip as your eyes stared at his strong shoulders, the urge to kiss and feel them against your hands almost forcing you to break the silence.
Sunwoo slightly flinched when he felt your arms sneaking around his middle, smiling as your mouth trailed some feather kisses along with his shoulder blades.
“Not that I’m complaining, but it’s quite dangerous to cook shirtless, babe,” you susurrated in his ear, and he chuckled, flipping the pancakes in the pan with ease.
“Good morning to you too, Y/N,” he declared, your stomach churning at his morning voice, your hand going to the back of his head to tame his crazy bed hair. He inclined his head to the side to look at you and winked, lowering his face toward yours to press your lips together in a sweet kiss.
Your hands lingered on his back, touching his warm skin as he kept piling up some pancakes, eyes going wide at the amount of food that was already on the plate. The kettle began getting agitated and you took it away from the stove, placing it on the cork support that Sunwoo had already taken out. You poured the boiling water into two cups, adding teabags and some spoons to stir, before setting them down in front of your respective seats, announcing that the tea was served and hot. Sunwoo came a few seconds later with the pancakes, serving you two before taking three for him. He rubbed his hands together and beamed at you, proud of what he prepared.
“Smells delicious,” you stated as you planted your fork in one pancake covered in blackberry jam, munching on the food, softly dancing in your seat as it tasted amazing. Sunwoo chuckled as he practically devoured his food like a caveman, maple syrup drooling from his mouth all over his chin. You both tittered as you handed him a napkin and he thanked you with a nod, wiping the sticky fluid from his lower face.
“Chill babe, I’m not gonna steal your pancakes,” you laughed, and he shrugged, a teasing smile emerging on his face.
“We never know,” he joked after swallowing, mouth still half-full, slowly frowning as he didn’t chew enough. He lightly grimaced at it went down, his Adam apple bobbing up and down a few times. You raised your eyebrows, silently asking him if he was okay, and he cleared his throat while nodding.
“I’m okay now,” he stated, voice a bit more distinct than before. He took his cup of tea and your eyes widened as he didn’t seem to care about the steam coming off the cup.
“Careful-” you began, but Sunwoo instantly placed the cup down and grimaced.
“Ouch, shit!” he cussed, sticking his tongue out to try and cool it down as it just got burnt by the boiling water of your tea. You hissed in pain as you stared at him, watching the man grimace in front of you.
“I told you it was going to be hot, I just poured the water from the kettle!” you gently scolded him and the grimace didn’t leave his mouth, his tongue turning inside of his mouth, desperately trying to relieve the pain.
“I should have been more careful,” he said as he started eating again, slowly this time.
“Do you want milk or anything? Maybe it can soothe the pain,” you said as you stood up, but Sunwoo was quick to rise from his seat to grab your wrist.
“It’s okay Y/N, let’s finish breakfast first,” he said and you looked at him.
“You sure? You should really try and drink something cold to ease it,” your concern didn’t seem to have reached his brain as his eyes didn’t move from yours, his dark brown orbits mesmerising you, preventing you from looking away.
“Maybe you could… kiss it better? I think that could help,” he smirked as the breakfast did not seem to be his priority anymore, your lips darkened because of the blueberry jam looking more appetising to him. You rolled your eyes and chuckled, wanting to look to the side but Sunwoo’s finger rested on your chin, forcing the eye contact between you two.
“You’re so annoying,” you whispered before letting out a yelp, Sunwoo lifting you and sitting you on the kitchen counter. His hands roaming the soft skin of your hips, you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked at him.
The smirk never left his face and you got closer, pressing your mouth to his in a soft kiss, but Sunwoo decided otherwise. He placed his hand at the back of your head to deepen the kiss, mouths opening as your tongues sensually danced together. Stopping for a quick second, you just had the time to tilt your head to the side before your boyfriend pulled you in a hungrier, needier kiss. You would never get tired of how great his lips moved against yours, the sensation sending goosebumps in your entire being, mixed with some butterflies erupting from your stomach.
His hands went under your his sweater and travelled up to your back, drawing you closer to him as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Sunwoo groaned as you softly tugged on the hair at the back of his head for some oxygen, feeling and playing with the soft locks in between your fingers. You cupped his face and pulled away, looking at your boyfriend while smiling, struggling to keep your eyes open at the intensity of the kiss you’ve just exchanged.
“Better?” you said and he nodded, his mouth exploring the skin of your jaw.
“Hmm, I don't know yet. Let’s give up breakfast, I have something more important to take care of,” he mumbled and his breath fanned against the sensitive skin right where your ear met your jaw, pursing your lips as he proceeded to make the temperature rise in the kitchen.
#kim sunwoo#sunwoo#sunwoo scenarios#sunwoo imagines#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop scenario#kpop fluff#the boyz#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#the boyz sunwoo#the boyz soft hours#sunwoo soft horus#the boyz suggestive#the boyz sunwoo fluff#sunwoo fluff#the boyz fluff#the boyz fics#the boyz sunwoo imagines#sunwoo fics#the boyz x reader#the boyz au#sunwoo x reader#sunwoo soft#kim sunwoo fluff#kim sunwoo the boyz#kim sunwoo drabbles#kim sunwoo imagines#kim sunwoo x reader
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I remember you, part 1 - Jeff Johansen x Fem reader
Warnings/ additional tags: male/female, a lot of angst, non graphic smut, feelings and not knowing what to do with them, younger Jeff & younger reader, both 18 tho.
Before reading!: I do recommend you read Jeff’s lore before reading this! I literally took it and wrote around it.
Summary: Jeff and reader were best friends in high school, their relationship slowly but surely becoming more as they started a job at the Ormand video shop together, soon they were inseparable but the divorce of Jeff’s parents tore them apart when Jeff left for Winkler, Manitoba with his mother.
Notes: red print is song lyrics! part one of a three part story. there is not a lot of Jeff fics so I’m here to hopefully change that.
1989, Ormand High school, Alberta.
11th grade.
“That’s amazing Jeff…” she leaned over the back of his desk, her frame hovering above him as she got a pretty good peak at his newest art project. She smirked into the air as he quickly covered the flimsy sheet paper with his arms, shielding the very clear silhouette of a woman from her peeping eyes. She laughed at his stiffness, bringing her hands down to his shoulders, squeezing them gently.
“Don’t get shy on me now JJ, lemme see!” She leaned her head against her best friends, patiently awaiting him to reveal the drawing that she already knew was her.
“Shove off bunny, you’ll see if I want you to” he playfully pushed her off him, quickly putting the thin paper into his pack with red checks. She smiled at the name, she reminisced on the day that he first called her that, they’d been playing in the woods behind his house when a small bunny came straight to her like a house dog; they spent most of that day with the rabbit before it decided to hop along back home. That was where the name came, and it’s stuck ever since. She always hoped it meant more.
“I’m never gonna see that picture again am I?” She sighed in defeat, backing away to give him room to stretch out in his seat, he looked back at her with a sly smile before answering with, “maybe.. but most likely not” she snorted before subtly flipping him off, he shrugged and turned his attention back to the front of the class as the teacher walked in.
“alright class, turn to page 86 in your textbooks!”
………………
1990, “Ormand videos”.
A year had passed, with the pair now being in their last year of high school they needed a job, and what’s a better way to get a job than with your best friend?
Afternoons passed quickly at the shop with no one coming in and all these vinyls on their hands, there was nothing else to do than play some metal and get drunk. But they didn’t mind.
“Hey Jeff! Haven’t seen this one before have ya?” She smiled picking up a record carefully before bringing it up beside her face, showing it in his direction. He glanced over at the record, then her. He never could keep his eyes off her for long.
“Nah don’t think I have, you?” He cleared his throat and looked away when her eyes shot back to his. She smirked knowingly before turning her attention back to the stereo.
“Hell yeah baby, you’ll love this one” his heart thumped at the name, quickly composing himself before speaking.
“Oh yeah and what makes you think that?”
He walked over to where she leaned over the player, putting the needle onto the vinyl then slowly turning around to face him.
“Two words, Skid. Row.” Her eyes lit up as she stared into his, he crossed his arms when the song titled “Youth gone wild” began to play.
She banged her head to the heavy beat as he watched her fervently, his heart filling with admiration with every move she took to the song.
“Alright, alright. I like your style hot shot..” he turned around making his way back to the counter to grab some more beer while she danced to the song.
“Oh I know ya do pretty boy..” she said with confidence before trailing her hands slowly up the front of her body. He watched her with wild eyes and racing pulse. oh the things he’d do to her. She drew the beer back to her lips and smiled, her eyes still lustfully fixated on his. He shook his head, turning his gaze with a “fuck you”
“I hope you keep that promise Johansen.” Her words slurred and her beautiful laugh filled the room, even above the loud music there was her. And he couldn’t get enough.
“You’re a vixen.” he spoke as he nervously took a swig of the cheap beer, flopping down at the old leather chair behind the counter. was this the booze making her so.. affectionate? God he prayed not, he liked this side. shit, loved. He loved all sides of her. Damn he just loved her, and it’s taken him this long to find out?
“Wrong. I’m your vixen” she slowed her dancing, the words escaping her lips smoothly and softly, her eyes looked almost pleading as the next song rang out through the shop.
“I paint a picture of the days gone by…”
“This song reminds me of you ya know?” Her demeanor changed… something In her lit a glow and he could see it in the way she was moving towards him. Her hips moved so fucking perfectly, like she knew what got him ticking and was doing it on purpose, which knowing her that’s probably what the little shit was doing. But he wouldn’t change it. Not a damn thing.
“When love went blind and you would make me see..”
She was now standing between his open legs, looking down on him as he looked up. His fingers gripped onto the the armrests of the old chair, desperately holding on like his life depended on it. He wanted her, he always had. So why was he such an anxious coward about it?
She leaned down, taking her small hands to his big ones, prying them away with gentleness he’s never known. She laced his with her own, moving them away from the chair before moving one of her thighs onto his, his breath hitched as the other followed. She now sat fully on his lap, her body touching his in ways he’s only dreamed about.
“I'd stare a lifetime into your eyes..”
Her hands led his own to her soft thighs, her fishnets barely covering her silk skin and the flimsy dress certainly not helping as it rid up her legs even more. He looked down to where his rough fingers were met with the warmth of her.
“So that I knew that you were there for me…”
His mouth was agape as he did nothing to take his eyes from her skin, his grip tightened as she got impossibly closer, she now completely leaned against him with her hands resting against his cheeks, she pulled away and tilted his chin so she could see his eyes.
“Right JJ? Yours?” She whispered hotly, the burning in her eyes as she spoke will be something forever sketched in his mind. He gasped when she pressed her body forward, her hips starting to rut slowly against his own. He trembled before grabbing her hips, his own betraying him as they bucked upward without control.
“Bunny.. I-I..” his breathing was ragged as she caressed and touched him like she actually cared, the way she moved and the way she looked at him. He’s never felt this loved and he’d do anything to feel it forever.
“Time after time you there for me…”
The moment was cut short when a regular walked into the front of the shop, they knew him as Frank, the leader of a popular gang around Ormand. He was a faithful costumer but man his timing was shitty. He shouted over the loud music, calling for Jeff, something about a new project?
The woman on top of him sighed and rolled her eyes with a laugh, she patted Jeff’s cheek then stood. “Maybe next time” she smiled, walking away from behind the counter. Jeff sat still in his spot with a BIG problem, great what the fuck was he gonna do now.
“Ayyyy Jeff ya could’ve got a room ya know?” Frank smirked between the pair. The woman rolled her eyes but Jeff just cleared his throat with a sigh, embarrassment flooding his veins.
“Yeah well maybe if you hadn’t have came in we would’ve, dickhead..” he heard her from across the room, annoyance in her voice.
“Well then I wouldn’t be having fun right now would I “bunny?” Frank teased her before turning his attention back on Jeff.
“Alright Frank, cut the shit, what ya want?” Jeff finally stood, leaning over the counter waiting for what could possibly be more important than what he was doing.
“Got ya a project to work on, for the legion. Shouldn’t take that long I can give ya a ride now. It’s a take it or leave it offer man. What ya say?” Frank took out a cig and lighter as he waited, putting it to his lips before flipping the flame.
Jeff looked around Frank at her, silently questioning if he could and if she would watch the shop. She nodded her head with a small smile and turned away. That smile. It wasn’t hers. Not her real one at least. Guilt struck his chest but he still faced Frank and shook his head.
“Y-yeah let’s get this shit over with…” Jeff grabbed his leather jacket behind him on the chair that he was previously on, tossing it over his shoulder and heading to the front door. Frank followed behind him.
“I uh, I’ll talk to ya later right?” He looked behind him but she wasn’t there, she had already made her way in the back of the shop, heading towards the break room.
“Right Romeo, now get ya ass out the door” Frank shoved Jeff out of the shop, hurrying him along to his beat up truck.
“You best pay me real fucking good for this Frank…” Jeff gritted while getting into the worn down vehicle.
“Yeah whatever…” Frank mumbled, cig still in hand, turning the ignition with the other before driving off.
………………………
The rest of the evening drug on painfully slow, the mural the legion had him to paint no where near done by the time he left for home. He should’ve known not to trust Frank, because now he’s walking to his house in the dark with only a fifty and some beer. He could’ve been with her right now. The thought of the afternoon’s escapades flashed before him, and his senses were filled with her.
“Fucking. Frank.” The whisper cut through the cold wind with no destination. He sighed and continued to walk back to his hellhole of a home.
…
He entered the house to the usual fighting and screaming, something he came accustomed to. It was the same thing every night, the same sharp words, the same hatred in each other’s voices. Was this love? This was all he had ever known, and if this is what love was? He couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to her.
He started towards the stairs leading to his bedroom, purposely avoiding the two nagging parents in fear of being the next to get yelled at.
“Don’t bother unpacking your stuff son, we’re leaving!” His mother yelled from the bottom of the stairs, his dad close behind her, trying to convince the woman different.
It honestly didn’t surprise him, he knew this day was coming, it was only a matter of time. The pain he felt was overwhelming but being in this home for this long taught him a thing or two about hiding his emotions. He looked to his father, grief was found in the older man’s eyes, not because he lost his wife, but his son.
“Give me tonight. Then I’ll do whatever the fuck you want” with tears in his eyes, he faced his mother challengingly.
She slightly nodded, he waited for no further conformation as he jolted up the stairs to his now old room. Slamming his pack of his shoulders and against the wall he finally broke down. He had to go to her.
…
He crawled out silently through his bedroom window, carefully making his way out of the house and onto the front lawn. The cold night air sent shivers down his spine, pulling his bulky leather coat to his chest he began sulking to her place.
A million thoughts raced through his mind. What would he do? What would he say? How would he tell her.. minutes passed by as he finally neared her drive. Walking over to her bedroom window he softly gave their signature knock on the glass.
He almost began to lose hope as the seconds passed until he saw her shadow through the thin curtains. She pulled back the cloth to revel a shivering Jeff. Quickly opening the window she took his hand to pull him in.
“JJ what the hell you doing out this late?!” She whisper shouted as she pulled him inside her window.
“It happened. We’re leaving.” The words left his mouth with such despair that she knew what he meant. She knew his family was far from picture perfect, she just didn’t know when the time would come, but now it’s here and all though she knows what this means she cannot begin to process it.
“Y-you’re leaving..?” she stood back, giving him room to fully step into her small room.
“When Jeff…?” He stood in silence, avoiding her eyes with his hands in his pockets. He couldn’t stand the sight of her sad and he knew at this moment without giving her a glance, that tears were beginning to well in her eyes. He didn’t have to look, he felt it in her presence, heard it in her voice.
“Uh… tomorrow.” He hesitated, already feeling the uneasiness surrounding the room. He heard the sniffles, saw her shift from the corner of his eyes. He hated this, hated the way this made her feel.
“I’m sorry I, I’ll leave I didn’t mean to hurt yo-…” he started but was cut short.
“Be with me tonight Jeff. Please.” She couldn’t stop the words once they parted her lips, the question that she’d been holding inside for far too long finally revealing itself, lifting a heavy weight from her shoulders, but baring a new one in return. “What if he doesn’t love me like I do him?”
He looked at her for the first time that night, He was right. Tears were silently rolling down her face and her cheeks were dusted with red. He wanted to wipe her sadness away, but how could he heal something he caused?
“Bunny… I- can’t hurt you anymore than I already have” he turns, not being able to bare the sight of her in fear of his own tears treading down his cheeks.
“Then be with me. I want it to be you Jeff. I wanted everything to be with you…” she trailed off, all the firsts she wanted, hoped, dreamed of having with him. But it was just wishful thinking at this point.
“Y-you know I do too.” He choked on his words, the admission hard considering that fact that he knew what love could do, and how much it could damage.
she closed the distance between them slowly, raising her hand to caress his jaw.
“Then show me Jeff, at least for tonight” her eyes… pleadingly stared up into his.. what did he do wrong to have her so close, just for her to be torn away from his grasp.
“I’m here. Tell me what you need.” at least for the time being he could be hers, but time was never in his favor.
………………………
He hovered over her, his hands shaking as they held her own over her head. The iron grip her legs had on his hips made him tremble, desperately trying to calm his frantic heart beat. her touch, her moans, her skin, everything about her in that moment was slowly killing him, and if this is what death felt like, he would die a million times over.
“J-Jeff look at me..” she whispered, panted in his ear. Taking the damp loose curls that stuck to his neck and brushing them back as she spoke. He lifted his head from her shoulder, both their lidded eyes never leaving each other’s.
“B-bunny I’m gonna miss ya” dropping his head back onto her soft skin he sighed, inhaling her scent while he still could, taking his time to remember her while he had the chance.
“I love you..” it was soft and high pitched, the last thing she said as she tightens around him. And that was all he needed to, pulling her closer than ever as he marked her as his, crying her name like it was all he knew how to say.
She was the one person in his life that he was sure of, the reason of living. But as he removed her from his arms and left that morning with last goodbyes, he no longer knew anything, his purpose was taken from him.
End note: I have no idea what I’m doing
This is a sad story with not a lot of happy😃 but by the end of chapter 3, there will be a happy ending and full on nsfw bc I can’t deprive myself of writing pure smut for long. That being said, prepare to be on a rollercoaster of emotions throughout this mini series.
- as I proof read this I broke my own damn heart so uh don’t read these stories if you don’t like being sad and horny at the same time:)
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(2) Daze of Pollen
(Work in Progress - 2 of 8; Slow updates)
Chapter 1
Daze of Pollen Materlist
Pairing: (cis)fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson
Words: 2500+
Warnings: Smut. 18+ only please. Oral (female recieving). Threesome (penetrative sex is in the next chapter). Not exactly bondage but restraining using physical strength. Size kink. That’s it I guess.
Summary: Bucky, Steve, Sam and you are in the safe house post mission when a retrieved Hydra device activates, releasing a kind of pollen you don’t know of, but the effects of which are soon discovered.
A/N: And the smut begins! Sorry this took some while. I’m still taking kink requests if you have any. Hope you enjoy it!
Request included: Not sure if this qualifies but for Daze of Pollen how about a scene where they decide to pin down/restrain one of them while the another person goes to town teasing them?
Also, since size kink was in demand it’s a personal favorite of mine, it’s gonna be kinda constant throughout the fic. So the reader is short in height only. For rest of the part, I’ve tried my best to stay neutral.
You didn't know who leaned into whom, but you didn't care. Soft lips touched yours, drawing you in a kiss. His metal arm curved around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to himself instantly, the other hand slithering up your neck to cup cheeks. His tight hold on you caused you to lean back, but his arm kept you firm against him, tightly pressed to his form.
Despite his eager demeanor, Bucky kissed you with such a gentleness, his lips playing with yours with such soft, feather light touches, it genuinely took you aback, only leaving you yearning for more. Tilting his head, Bucky deepened the kiss. Soft moans arose from your throat, which were swallowed by him.
His hands streamed down to your butt, squeezing your cheeks appreciably. Grabbing your thighs, he hiked them around his waist, lifting you off your feet and into his strong hold. He carried you to your bedroom with slow, measured steps, your hands tightening around his neck to balance yourself. The two other men were left all by themselves in the living room.
Sam and Steve looked at each other, a little dumbfounded, unsure what they needed to do, where they stood.
"Do we…" Steve started, gesturing to follow you and Bucky.
"Uh, I guess…?" Sam answered, unsure of how to go about it. It wasn't every day that he and his friends inhaled some evil organization's pollen and needed to get each other's rocks off to survive. Nevertheless, he followed you and Bucky to your bedroom, curious to see how this would unfold. Steve wasn't far behind.
Bucky sat down on your bed, settling you on his lap, legs on either side of his waist. One of his hands stayed on your butt, kneading your ass, while the other traveled back to your face, cupping it in his protective hold. Your face nuzzled into the heat of his palm, seeking more of him.
Everything else was lost to you, your mind abandoning all thoughts except one. Bucky. Bucky. Bucky. His gentle touches on your body. The delicate kisses on your lips. His hands kept you close to him in his caring and protective hold, pulling you into the heat of his body. Your shorter frame settled snugly in his larger one.
"Always wanted to do this, doll. You don't know how long I've wanted to kiss you, taste you, devour those fucking sweet lips." Bucky said in between the kisses. "Didn't know it'd come down to this though. Kissing you only because I had to."
You pulled back, taken aback by his confession. "You did?" You asked, heart thrumming wildly.
Bucky nodded. "Day and night, doll. Since forever." The rough pad of his thumb glided across your bottom lip. "Always wanted to hold and kiss you silly so fucking bad."
You couldn't believe it. You had always liked these men, wanted them too - because fuck, how could you not? Admittedly, Bucky a little more than the rest. But to know Bucky wanted you too? Not just as the close friend you had become over the years, but really wanted you in the most sinful ways as you wanted him? It drove you to a new high.
"Fuck, Bucky. Me too." Your lips dawned on his in a harsh kiss.
It lasted only a moment before Bucky pulled back. "Because of the pollen?" He asked, brows furrowed. Worried that your response was only because of the effect the pollen had on you.
"Fuck the pollen. You're what I want, Bucky. You're what I need." You insisted, determined to make him see that you wanted him just as much.
Looking into your eyes, Bucky knew that you weren't lying. That there were no reasons to doubt your words. The disclosure released something primal in him. Knowing that he was wanted, needed even, that too by you, the one person he desired above everyone else? He couldn't hold himself back for a second longer.
With a growl, he pulled you back into him, plump lips kissing you wildly. Any trace of softness left him as he kissed you with an unparalleled hunger. A desire you had never seen before. The kiss grew hot and heated as his tongue traced your lips and entered you not long after. His tongue danced with yours skillfully, lips devouring yours passionately. Bucky gave his all into the kiss, his mind clouded with the thoughts of you and only you.
The outline of his half hard member was prominent beneath your thighs, even through the thick fabric of his jeans. Without giving it much thought, you ground your hips into his, focusing your movements around his length. Bucky groaned at how good it felt. Fingers grabbed your ass as he guided your flow, pushing your hips down on his. Slotting your core directly over his shaft, you rolled your hips unceasingly, drawing pleasure filled moans from both of you.
Not long after, you felt your body heat up. The clothes stuck to your form, the fabric brushing against your skin in the harshest and most irritating of manners. It was nearly suffocating, the feel of the offending fabric overwhelming all your other senses. It only left you with the urge to get rid of them and free your body of the confines.
"God, I'm so hot." Murmuring against his lips, you made to pull off your sweatshirt, leaving you only in your bra.
Bucky only gazed at your chest in wonder for a moment, eyes shining bright. "Fuck, you're perfect." His face landed on your chest, nipping and sucking right above the swell of your breasts. Hands went around your back to unclasp your bra, taking it off you and chucking it across the in record time.
You released a contented sigh as the cool conditioned air swept over your hot skin, the feel of Bucky's lips on your skin even more heavenly. His lips left a wet trail as he traveled down to the valley between your breasts. Your head tilted back, fingers raking through his fluffy hair to grip them tightly. Aroused even further, you could feel your panties getting damp as you rocked your hips further over his erection.
"Get me out of these clothes, Bucky. Please! It's getting too hot." The metal armed man heeded your requests, knowing that the pollen had started affecting you now, knowing exactly what you needed. Not wasting any more time, he made quick work of discarding your sweats and panties before undressing himself.
Bucky threw you down on the bed, your back hitting the mattress with a bounce. With an unsuppressed growl, he climbed on top of your small form, his broad shoulders and tall frame almost covering every bit of you, his hard cock resting heavily on your thigh. You whimpered beneath him, intimidated by his large frame in the most arousing of ways.
Bucky loved feeling your bare pressed into him, your small body quivering beneath him with a desire, a need only he could quell. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby." He breathed, lips attached to your neck, shrouding your delicate skin with hickeys. Hands wandered down your sides until he reached your core. A loud gasp left your lips as his fingers touched your bundle of nerves, stroking it skillfully and steadily.
You could feel your wetness seeping out of you little by little, the insides of your thighs already slick from your arousal. Though it was greatly appreciated, you didn't need him to make you anymore wet. All you wanted, all you needed was him stretching and filling you to your limit on his erection.
"I need you inside me. Need your cock filling me, Bucky." You whimpered under him.
"Easy, baby," He chuckled, "I'm not gonna fuck you without tasting you, making you cum on my fingers, pretty girl." And with that, he slid down your body, kneeling on the floor. Taking a hold of your legs, he dragged you down until your pussy was in his reach, all his for the taking. Resting your legs on his shoulders, he went to town.
You let out a loud, broken moan as Bucky licked a long stripe through your slit. He firmly attached his mouth to your bundle of nerves. The moist, strong muscle of his tongue drew round patterns on your clit, occasionally sucking it into the heat of his mouth.
Bucky and you were lost in each other, uncaring of the world around you. Bunching the sheets by your head, your head turned to sideways of its own accord, your body reaping the pleasures he gave you. So much so that only then did you notice your other two friends sitting on the mini couch in your room. Even from a distance, you could see the outlines of their erections, the thin material of the grey Shield sweats doing nothing to hide them. Their shirts discarded, they both palmed their erections through the fabric, a mix of discomfort and arousal on their faces. It only made your mouth water more. Extending your hand, you called out to them "Sam, Steve…"
Exchanging a glance, the men stayed rooted to their spots. It was only after another desperate call of yours that Sam's resolve broke. Striding across the room in long steps, Sam was at your side within moments. Clutching your extended hand, he brought it to his lips. "My baby girl's enjoying herself, hmm?"
Squeezing his hand, you replied, "Want you too, Sam." A wanton moan escaped your lips right then as Bucky worked magic down below.
Sam smirked. "All greedy, my baby girl is, isn't she? Always wants more and more and more."
You pathetically nodded your head in response, anything to get his hands and lips on your body. Any and all rational thoughts had left your being, leaving behind an unbridled desire, a thirst which could only be satiated by the three men.
Sam couldn't hold himself back as he saw the yearning on your face, a dazed look in your eyes, a sweet little pout on your lips. Grabbing your neck harshly, he pulled you into a long, bruising kiss.
You gasped at the suddenness, but it didn't take long for you to kiss back just as enthusiastically. His hands streamed your body as if memorizing every curve and plain, occasionally stopping at your breasts to squeeze them. You would whimper into his mouth every time he did that, and he would grin into the kiss. He turned your body a bit to the side as he laid down beside you, only enough so that you'd be comfortable and Bucky would still have space.
You grew a little bolder, deciding to creep your hand down your bodies and gripping Sam's erection through his sweats. The new Captain America choked on nothing but air in surprise. Instantly pulling away, he looked at you to find a shy grin already playing on your face, lips caught in between your teeth. You never ceased rubbing his shaft as you looked at him. Sam groaned. "You're gonna be the death of me, baby girl."
Your grin turned brighter in response. Tugging at the waistband, you whined, "Take these off Sammy, need to feel all of you against me."
Sam didn't delay in heeding to your whims, needing himself to get out of the constricting cloth. Discarding it, he quickly resumed his position beside, taking your lips in a hungry, heated kiss. Fingers running over his thick member, you took it in your hands, gripping and stroking it with a tad bit more pressure than necessary, but it was exactly what Sam needed to relieve himself. The protruding veins of his member were prominent, making your mind salivate at only the thought of his veins pulsing inside your pussy.
Something about seeing the way Sam kissed you, bordering on rough and eager. The way his palms squeezed your tits, his fingers playing with your nipples. The way your hand pumped his cock, wrist flicking, occasionally fondling his heavy balls as well, drawing out gravely moans from his throat. The way your face contorted into a mix of pleasure and bliss, a hint of longing still persisting. It spurred on Bucky even more, his length twitching.
The man in between your knees took his own uncomfortably hard cock and stroked it. After giving himself a moment of relief, Bucky left his cock to circle his arms around your thighs, diving into your core with renewed passion.
You couldn't lay still from the sensations coursing through you. Hands roaming your body, a tongue playing skillfully with your own while another working mercilessly with your clit. It was too fucking much to stay still. Your body quivered beneath the two men, your hips rising off the bed. You were yourself confused if you were pulling away from Bucky's touch or rushing towards it.
Regardless, Bucky's hand splayed over your stomach, keeping you in place. But it wasn't enough. Your body was too excited to stay in one place. "Sam, hold her down." Bucky said.
Sam lifted your hand off his cock, bringing both your hands above your head. Crossing them, he clutching both your wrists in one hand simply. The other pushed you on the bed so that you completely laid on your back, before going back to your breast and teasing your nipple. You whimpered at the change in position. Sam clicked his tongue softly. "Shh, it's for your own good. Just enjoy it, baby."
And enjoy, you did.
Sam went back to kissing you furiously, his hands alternating between your breasts, taking turns in playing with your pebble hard nipples. Bucky ate you like a man starved. His tongue pressed down hard on your bundle of nerves, alternating between flicking and swirling it in the most pleasurable of angles. The moist heat of his mouth enveloped you. Tongue attached to your clit, at times he would shake his head too to stimulate you further.
You were truly, blissfully overwhelmed. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier took your body to new heights, closer and closer to your peak.
Thereafter, It didn't take long for your body to tip off the edge, pure pleasure coursing through your veins as your orgasm washed over you. Sam pulled back to see the blissed out expression of your face, loving the way your closed shut and your mouth opened, your toes curling as you moaned loudly, your hips bucking into Bucky's face. The man lapped at your pussy, slurping your release directly from the source, not missing one single drop of it. He moaned at your taste, his vibrations flowing through you, only prolonging your first orgasm of the night.
The first of many.
Chapter 3
Don’t worry, Steve will join the fun soon!
Blog’s Main Masterlist || Tag lists
I’m taking requests if you want a particular kink to be featured. Send me an ask or text me for the same or to be tagged.
Thank you for reading!
#bucky barnes x reader#sam wilson x reader#bucky barnes smut#sam wilson smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#sam wilson x reader sm#sambucky x reader#sambucky x reader smut#bucky x reader#bucky x reader smut#bucky barnes x you#sam wilson x you#bucky barnes x y/n#sam wilson x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes#sam wilson#sambucky#bucky
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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (END 6: Heart-throb)
“Do you really think that I think there’s no helping you?”
*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (^▽^)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!
✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★
The cat caused an incident! What should I do?
⊹ Check the fallen model ⊹
I didn’t think too much about it, instead, hurrying over to where the car model had fallen.
I picked it up and inspected the damages.
There was a long crack in the middle and several parts had broken off, scattering compartments all over the floor.
MC: Can this… still be saved…?
Just as I was thinking of how to break this bad news to Osborn, his low voice sounded from behind.
Osborn: What a big commotion.
Osborn: What? Did Mitt get into an accident?
I steeled myself and stopped covering the scene of the “car accident” that had occurred. I got up and handed him the car model that I held.
MC: The “culprit” knocked this car model down and fled.
Osborn frowned, reaching me in a couple of long strides.
He took the model and turned it around a couple of times, observing it with an indifferent look on his face.
MC: Is it too damaged to fix?
Osborn: I can just send it for repairs over the next few days. Let's go look for the cat first.
He calmly placed the broken car model back onto the shelf, taking a “let’s talk about this later” stance.
This model had been placed together with many other car models that looked new, pristine, and without a scratch. Not to mention, the glistening trophy that had been right next to it. A wild guess entered my mind.
MC: Do all the car models here hold some sort of commemorative meaning?
Osborn: Hm? Why do you ask?
MC: I mean, if they are some sort of special memento to you, then they should have been subjected to routine maintenance, right?
MC: If so, then you should also have the tools for it along with any part replacements, yes?
Thoughtfulness slipped into his eyes.
Osborn: You want to help me fix it?
MC: Yeah! That cat was just spooked real bad, and it wouldn’t do us any good if it got a bigger fright the next time and reacted even worse to it if we continued chasing after it.
MC: So, why don’t we leave the cat hunt for later and fix the car model back up first?
MC: Plus, I’m pretty dexterous with my hands. Wanna give me a chance to show you my prowess?
He raised an eyebrow, his pale green eyes glinting.
Osborn: Okay. Here's your time to shine.
Osborn stretched his arms over my head. For a while, all I could see was his broad chest. I felt my breath hitch.
Then, he suddenly lowered his head. His face was incredibly close to mine.
The scent of black cedar assaulted my nose. I blinked. My brain was lagging.
MC: Oh, okay.
Osborn: Take it.
My gaze slid to his hand. Turns out that he’d just been fetching the toolbox that had been in the cabinet above the display shelves.
Osborn: I'm waiting.
I took the toolbox from him and opened it.
I was greeted by a multitude of components in all shapes and sizes. Some of the tools in it were similar to the ones I used when making my designs, but there were also some that I’d never seen before.
I picked up a tool that looked like a cross between a pen and a knife, looking to Osborn for advice.
MC: What's this?
Osborn: An exacto knife. It’s used to cut off excess parts of the joints when required.
MC: Mmhm, okay. I've remembered it.
Osborn: This is a cutting plier, screw sanders, tweezers...
Osborn picked out a couple more tools from within the box and introduced them to me.
Osborn: Anything else you can't recognize?
MC: Not for now.
Osborn: Okay. Then let's remove the damaged compartments first.
MC: Okay.
First, we used a screwdriver to remove the damaged compartments. Then, we replaced them with brand-new spare parts.
This race car model was really different from those being sold out in the market. It was made with exquisite craftsmanship, and its internal makings were far more complicated than I'd initially thought.
When it was time to add colours to it, Osborn prepared the required paints and set them out in measured portions onto the palette with ease and finesse. He smoothly handed me a brush.
Osborn: Do you know how to touch up the paintwork?
I hesitated.
MC: I've painted outfit designs before for design needs, but I'm sure it's completely different from actually painting a model.
MC: I don't know if it works the same…
Osborn: See my demonstration first then.
He dipped his brush into the red paint, carefully painting it onto the model. It came out very uniform and smoothly layered.
I'd stared at him, watching him do it a couple more times. But, no matter how much I watched the same process, I couldn't quite grasp it. Even if I tried mimicking his actions, my paintwork always turned out patchy and uneven.
Osborn laughed, placing his hand over mine and directing the brush I held.
He directed my brush, guiding me on how I should be painting the compartment with a focused look on his face.
It was all serious and business, except… My focus was inevitably drawn towards his movements and breaths.
Osborn: Get it?
MC: Mmhm...
I tried my hardest to remember the way he did it and followed suit. The end result was much smoother than what I'd been accomplishing before.
After the finishing touches were in place, I raised the model and showed it to him.
MC: Like… this? This should be done now, right?
Osborn: Not bad. You've got standard.
My spirits soared at having received such direct praise from him.
MC: Since I'm such an apt learner, how about enlisting my help again the next time you make another model of a race car?
Osborn slightly raised a brow as he contemplated my paint-stained hands.
Osborn: I'll think about it.
MC: Does this even need to be considered?
MC: I'm pretty quick to pick up hands-on skills, not just fixing up models of racing cars! So I'm a fast learner no matter what it is!
MC: You can test me again if you don't believe me!
Just as I was boasting about my assets in an attempt to make myself appeal to him, Osborn's calloused fingers suddenly brushed against my cheek.
The rough texture of the pads of his fingers made my heart skip a beat.
MC: What's wrong?
Osborn: You got something on your face.
I doubtfully touched my face. Suddenly, I pulled my hand away to find my fingers stained with red paint.
Astonished, I look at Osborn's hands, only to find even more red paint on them…
MC: Don't tell me you drew something on it!!
Osborn: What gives?
MC: Hey! You're biting the hand that feeds!
Osborn: Whatever do you mean by that?
Osborn: I'm just adding some blush and colour to your face. Makes you prettier.
I was taken aback, nonetheless.
MC: Okay. Then, I'll add some colour to your cheeks for you!
Osborn: Whoa, hey! Easy!
MC: Nothing you say now is gonna stop me!
I swiftly picked up the brush and dipped it into the paint set out onto the palette, rushing straight for his face.
Osborn quickly reared back, but I subconsciously followed right after his retreat.
And this was how I toppled him down to the ground with him doing nothing to defend himself.
Osborn was astonished. He'd attempted to get back up, only for my other hand to immediately dart out to pin him down by the shoulder.
MC: No moving!
Surprise flashed through his eyes, as his usual impish smile crawled its way back up his face.
Osborn: Wow, what an aggressor.
MC: That's right. Now's my time to retaliate!
MC: No use trying to escape!
I circled the air with the brush, purposefully observing his face to make my mark.
MC: Hmm, what do you want me to draw on you?
Osborn seemingly accepted the fact that he was going to be an inevitable victim of mine since I already had him "pinned" down. He folded his arms behind his head, giving my question some serious thought.
Osborn: An air drawing?
MC: Dream on!
Osborn: Mercy, please. I beg you.
MC: It's too late to be begging me for mercy.
MC: Hmph. Just watch me improvise on the spot~
Just as I was rummaging through my brain for a glimmer of inspiration, a light bulb suddenly lit in my head.
I had an image now: Mitt as it was fleeing.
❖☆———————————★❖
I leaned down, supporting myself on Osborn's shoulder.
Following the curve of his jaw, I applied colour to his skin, drawing a colourful cat.
Osborn had his guard down, seemingly content to watch me work my "artistic talents" with him as the canvas.
The surroundings lapsed into silence.
I was drawing it on with such rapt concentration, yet I was still able to notice his long black lashes and hear his familiar steady breathing ever so clearly. I could somewhat feel the slight rise and fall of his chest.
I vaguely registered our close proximity to each other. My heart seemed unable to settle with the fact that we were so close to each other that our breaths intermingled, clamouring loudly within my chest.
I blinked twice, finishing off the last stroke before getting up and putting some distance between us.
❖☆———————————★❖
Osborn: Done?
I nodded.
Osborn: What do you think of your work of art?
Huh? Is he asking me to rate my own work?
I quickly gave him a once over, only to realize that I'd been distracted at the end, so it'd turned out a little funky. I nearly laughed at it right then and there.
MC: Ahem. I think it's not bad! You've got a big kitty on you now!
He waggled his brows, lazily raising his body halfway back up. His features were suddenly enlarged before my eyes once more as he leaned closer.
Osborn: Happy now?
MC: Mmhm… Pretty happy.
Osborn: Then let me tell you something that'll make you even happier.
He moved even closer, his words gently flowing with the air, wrapping themselves around my ears.
I shuddered as a scalding heat started creeping up my neck.
MC: ...What is it?
Osborn: The other kitty's right behind you.
Mitt: Meow~ Meow~
The last of his words were drowned out by the sudden meowing that sounded.
I snapped out of the trance of the moment, much to my embarrassment. Mitt had actually slinked behind me somehow without my knowing!
MC: Right, we should hurry and catch it before it gets up to no good again!
I quickly climbed off Osborn, flushing red as I fled.
A light chuckle sounded behind me in response.
❖☆———————————★❖
By the time we found Mitt, it was already sprawled out beside the TV cabinet with its paws stuck underneath, fiddling with something in the gap.
Recalling the layout of his living room, I quietly tip-toed and whispered my idea into Osborn’s ear.
MC: I’ll take left, you take right. We’ll pincer it.
Osborn: It’s already here, so there’s no need to go through so much trouble.
MC: Huh?
Osborn: Just wait and see.
Osborn took a couple of long strides forwards in the direction of the cat.
I followed after him, quietly approaching the black cat. However, my attention was suddenly caught by the photo frame that the cat had just been playing with.
Picking up the frame, I carefully observed it…
In the picture were Osborn and a couple of familiar-looking teammates. They’d all had an arm around each other’s shoulder, beaming as they held the same trophy.
Their faces all look much younger… Is this a photo from years ago?
The race car in the background had a red and white body with an orange rear spoiler, similar to the car model that Mitt had batted off its perch earlier.
MC: Don’t tell me… Was that car model made based on this race car?
I was lost in thought when a sudden meow broke my train of thought.
Osborn: Still wanna run?
❖☆———————————★❖
I raised my head to see Osborn with both arms raised, gently holding up the cat in question.
The bright and warm sunlight shone in through the window, carefully outlining his chiselled side-profile and the contours of his muscles.
Although Mitt had already been caught, it still glared daggers at Osborn. It was as if a cat and a human were engaged in a silent battle with each other.
After a while, Mitt seemed to register the fact that it’d lost, meowing pitifully in that soft cry once more.
❖☆———————————★❖
Osborn: Oh? You know how to beg for mercy now, don’t you?
Osborn carried Mitt to the little corner we’d set up for it. Mitt seemingly gave up on the game of chase, lowering its head to eat the cat food that we’d prepared for it since the very beginning.
Watching it eat its food so obediently, I couldn’t help but kneel down and stroke its round head.
Mitt cast a doubtful glance at me, but turned its head, indulging nuzzling itself into my palm.
MC: !
MC: I touched it! How cute…
Osborn: You’re that excited from just being able to touch it?
MC: Yeah. It looked so naughty that I thought I wouldn’t be able to touch it today.
Osborn: It’ll come running up to you for a lick or two so long as you have food.
MC: Then I MUST let it try the wet cat food! Maybe it’ll get closer to me!
I sped towards the sofa and picked up the packet of wet cat food, purposely waving it before its nose.
It couldn’t resist the offered temptation after all. Its soft fluffy paws batted at my wrist as it opened its mouth and cried its pleas.
MC: Okay, okay. Any more and you’ll end up a piggy.
I recalled something after putting away the remaining food. I picked up the photo frame that I’d set down earlier and handed it to Osborn.
MC: Oh, yeah. By the way, this was the photo frame that Mitt was batting with under the TV cabinet earlier. I don’t know where you normally display it.
He took the photo frame from me and glanced at it.
MC: And on that note, I realized that the car in the background looks very similar to the model we just pieced back together. Are they the same?
Osborn: Oh. The model was made according to this race car.
Suddenly, I recalled having seen the highlights of all his races before.
The year and month in which he’d won his first racing championship seemingly coincided with the time that this photo was taken.
My guess had tumbled out of my lips before I could stop it.
MC: Is this the car you drove when you won your first championship?
He quirked a brow.
Osborn: Why, you know me so well.
MC: Then… Is that car model something of a memento from that race?
Osborn: You can say that.
MC: I heard somewhere before that that car’s engine had to be changed out every two races. It shouldn’t be in use anymore, right?
Osborn: The engine exploded on me during that race, so it was only my companion once.
Osborn spoke lightly of it, but thinking of how exciting and terrifying it must have been back then, I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little.
MC: I’m glad the car model’s alright. Otherwise, it’d be such a pity for such a meaningful memento to get damaged like that.
Osborn: So I should thank you properly. Is that it?
MC: Huh? Thank me?
He chuckled lightly, his eyes sliding from the photo to my face. He had a slightly flippant look on his face.
Osborn: Weren’t you the one who made that car model more meaningful?
MC: ……
I was taken aback for a bit. I looked at him in surprise, only to find his gaze calm and gentle. There was a smile glimmering within his eyes.
Osborn: You were pretty clever when fixing the model. Why so stupefied now?
As his words sank in, I felt my heart flutter as I realized what he’d meant by having made it more “meaningful”. Something seemed to have filled my heart. It was a little flustering, yet also a little sweet.
I worried my lip and gathered my courage together before looking up to meet his eyes.
MC: Then, that makes me happier now…
MC: Although I didn’t get the chance to sit in on the race of your first championship and cheer you on…
MC: I was still able to piece the model back together and play a part in that precious moment of memory.
Inexplicable emotions surfaced in Osborn’s eyes, and in the next second, his big hand ruffled my hair with a vengeance.
Osborn: There’s really no helping you, is there?
I shyly ducked my head, but I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from rising.
At this moment, the sun had enveloped us both within its warmth.
The cat quietly ate by our feet, letting out a purr of satisfaction every once in a while.
Slowly but surely, unspeakable feelings started to bloom and spread within the confines of my heart.
I hope, from the deepest points of my heart, that time would always be eternally frozen in this beautiful moment.
⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹
✥ Choose your Ending:
END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]
END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹
END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR
END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★
❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖
Previous Part: (Prologue)
#光与夜之恋#Light and Night#Otome#Translations#Tencent#萧逸#Osborn#For Night For Freedom#黑色对峙#Black VS Black
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What the future holds, we'll never know
Summary
Marinette didn't know what the future was made of—but the glimpse of the one featuring her akumatised partner she had seen taught her one thing: she and Chat Noir should never be together.
Which currently wasn't really a problem considering that she was in love with Adrien, and that they had been getting closer lately.
Read it on AO3
Hiiii @ladynoirist Lisa gemini bro ♥♥♥ I was soooo happy to be your totally secret (yes pretend you never guessed it was me okay I was so subtle) santaaaa for the @mlsecretsanta !!! (also pretend we're totally in December and not in May ho ho ho! Reindeers are still roaming!)
I'm so sorry for how late I am, but I hope you'll enjoy this fic 😄
───※ ·❆· ※───
21st of January, 1h after the reveal
Marinette stood in front of the bistro door, pacing. Pretending to look at the menu, pretending to think of what to choose, pretending that everything was absolutely normal and fine and this was just a perfectly normal day.
It was, however, not normal nor fine inside her head.
She had to push that door. She was already a good half an hour late and it wouldn’t do good to make her friends wait longer—excuses were harder and harder to explain the more she shied away.
Please, don’t be here. She never thought she would hope for that. Please have your bodyguard bring you home. Your father forcing you to go home.
Please, go home by yourself and find some stupid excuse.
She would feel bad for having all these unfair hopes if she hadn't been feeling completely panicked inside.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Gulping, she chanced a glance at it.
Alya girl where are u?? we’re waiting to order!
Well. She couldn’t delay for much longer. Taking a deep breath, Marinette pushed the door open and scanned the room.
Please, please don’t be inside.
She wasn’t being fair, she knew that—it wasn’t his fault if she didn’t feel like facing him.
“Marinette!”
She turned in the direction of her name where Alya was waving at her, hand held up high, while Nino was grinning and—he was there.
Swallowing—though her mouth had been dry for a while now—Marinette headed towards them despite her legs screaming at her to turn around and run as fast as possible away from here.
“H-hey,” she stuttered, “sorry for...for being late.”
She sat next to Adrien (because of course she had to be seated next to him). Their eyes met for a split second and he gave her a timid smile that she couldn’t return.
“It’s fine,” Alya waved off, “the most important thing is that you’re here now! But quick, choose what you want to eat, I’m staaarving!”
She, for one, clearly wasn’t.
Adrien was giving her quick glances and she tried her best to ignore him.
It was him, it was him, it was him.
And it was oh so unfair. She picked up her menu to hide her face as tears threatened to escape the corners of her eyes.
───※ ·❆· ※───
5th of October, 108 days before the reveal
“Try that.”
Marinette turned around, abandoning the search for her size amongst the many red skirts on the clothes rail.
Adrien was holding a tacky glittery dress, reflecting the light of a multitude of disharmonious colours, supporting two red fabric-flowers on each shoulder straps. It was positively horrendous, the kind of clothes you wonder who would ever buy when passing in front of it in the store.
She looked up to Adrien’s innocent smile and had to bite down the disgusted expression she suspected she must have shown for a split second. She hoped he hadn’t noticed—the last thing she wanted was to offend him. Growing-up in the fashion industry didn’t make him a good judge in the field, it seemed.
“I… You want me to...to try that on?” she stammered.
He gave her a nod, humming enthusiastically.
Maybe it was the kind of dress Adrien saw on girls at fashion shows, and she just hadn't seen it before. Maybe he liked it on them.
Maybe he would find her pretty in it.
Against her better judgement (because her judgement was always lost when it came to him, wasn’t it?), Marinette stretched a hand towards the piece of clothing, gulping. She raised her eyes to his, offering a tight smile.
Adrien’s mouth twitched, and his eyes held a new mischievous glint that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.
“You...you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?” she said, deflating.
He burst out laughing, a genuine, happy laugh that reminded her of a certain day in the rain, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself.
“You should have seen your face!”
He hadn't made fun of her in a while—in fact, he hadn’t laughed at her since that day, in the rain. The thought of him being comfortable enough with her to allow himself to do it again made her cheeks heat up.
“I could...I could call your bodyguard or...or your dad! Yes! I could call your dad and out you, you know!” she threatened, fighting back the nerves that always messed up her words when she spoke to him.
She wouldn’t mess up today.
It stopped Adrien momentarily and suddenly he was pleading her, begging with joined hands.
“Marinette,” he said, and he did sound serious—she would have been convinced had his eyes not looked a tad too much like a kicked puppy’s, “please, you can’t do that. Please please please please, I’m sorry for ruining your shopping day and running into you and insisting to tag along and—”
Marinette giggled. “I’ll wear it,” she said, snatching the terrible (terrible!!) dress from his hands, careful to not brush his fingers and make it awkward. “Because unlike you who’s trying to hide, I’m no coward.”
Adrien straightened up. “I’m no coward either!”
She could feel her heart beating erratically in her chest. She wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t gonna be nervous when talking to Adrien. Not again. Not this time. She could banter with him—this was known territory. Not with him though, never with him, but…
“Okay,” she crossed her arms. Her eyes scanned the different clothing items before landing on a pink plastic fur dress on a mannequin. “Prove it.”
He choked on a laugh before grinning at her. “Oh, you’re so on.”
───※ ·❆· ※───
16th of November, 66 days before the reveal
Adrien opened his diary, ready to write down the homework of the day Mrs Bustier was dictating.
The sound of ruffling papers and rummaging in bags filled the classroom, but he tried to focus on one sound in particular, resisting the urge to smile.
Any moment now.
Just a little longer before—
A loud groan resonated from behind him, and this time he let the grin slip onto his face, thankful that she couldn’t see it.
“What’s wrong?” Alya’s whisper made its way to his ears.
“Someone drew me with a towel on the head, swimming glasses and an ugly party dress!”
Adrien couldn’t help the snort that escaped him.
Teasing Marinette, he found, was very entertaining. He didn’t know exactly when he started to feel comfortable enough to do it. Didn’t know what exactly it was that was making it deliciously familiar yet all so new—and above all, warm.
Her reaction had been worth the wait. He silently delighted in the way she battled between raging against him and finding him hilarious (because with the way she giggled, or stammered, or even bit her lips the few times he had joked with her, before getting ahold of herself and teasing back, she had to find him hilarious, right?).
He guessed he deserved the ruler slap he received on the head.
Yes, Adrien liked her reactions, he thought while rubbing his head. He liked that new, teasing dynamic he’d been having with her for a couple of weeks now. He liked it.
But above all, he loved—
Adrien let a soft fond smile pull at his lips when he opened his diary that evening, once seated at his desk. A drawing quickly scribbled in the margin lit up by his many computer screens welcomed him of what he assumed was a new Gabriel ad featuring him in an atrocious fur dress coloured in fluro pink highlighter.
Above all, he loved her witty and sneaky comebacks.
───※ ·❆· ※───
8th of December, 44 days before the reveal
“What are you thinking about?”
Ladybug saw a smile stretch across her partner’s lips. He let out a fond chuckle, throwing his head up towards the sky. His eyes were closed, but she could tell that he was seeing more stars that way than if they had been opened looking up at the Parisian sky. She envied him a little.
“I’m thinking,” he simply said.
And didn’t say anything after that.
She waited a little, just in case, but he remained silent. His feet dangled above the edge of the roof and he started gently swinging his legs one after the other. He let out a breathless giggle, as if he couldn’t control it, and hummed a song her ears caught only because of the wind blowing towards her.
Her heart did a somersault in her chest at the sight. She felt a weird mix of emotions, not unpleasant but not entirely enjoyable either, bittersweetness and happiness mingling together.
He did look happy—but tonight it felt like she wasn’t a part of it. That he was in his own bubble of joy, a bubble she once had complete control over but, in that instant, was slipping through her fingers. If she was being honest, it had been slowly and subtly escaping her for a while now.
He was in love, she realised. Her gaze on him softened, before she turned away from him to look towards the sky, too, and exhaled a puff of hot air that dissipated in the cold and continued to grow as she joined him in his humming, closing her eyes.
If she wasn’t the one he was shining for tonight, she would still share that moment of exhilaration with him.
Besides, she had reasons to feel giddy herself too.
───※ ·❆· ※───
29th of December, 23 days before the reveal
“Hey.” Plagg’s voice wasn’t loud enough to pull Adrien out of his reverie completely, but enough to bring the cloud he was on a little bit back down to Earth. “You’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past twenty minutes now. What’s up?”
Adrien let the thread of his lucky charm pass through his fingers, feeling the beads between them rolling from one to another. “I have?”
Plagg stayed silent for a few seconds. “Yes. Are you alright?”
Adrien chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.” I have been for a little while now, he didn’t say.
Suddenly, he got up, walked towards his computer, picked up his phone from his desk and opened Instagram. His fingers quickly found Marinette’s name and pressed her icon to see her latest story. He smiled as a selfie of her and Alya appeared, and played it again once it was over.
“Ah. I see.” Adrien hadn’t noticed Plagg flying above his shoulder but he couldn’t care less. “You like her?”
“I love her,” he simply corrected.
“Really?! Planning on asking her out? Sweeping her off her feet?”
Adrien shook his head, chuckling. He put his phone back on his desk and let himself fall further in his seat, pushing his feet against the desk leg to propel himself back.
Marinette, Marinette, Marinette.
“We’ll see,” he stretched his arms above his head. “We’ll see what happens and when I feel that the time is right. I don’t want to mess it up. Not this time.”
Not with her.
───※ ·❆· ※───
11th of January, 10 days before the reveal
When she found Adrien waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs that morning, blushing, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other holding a yellow rose with red tips on the petals and stammering a simple yet powerful “I think I love you”, Marinette was glad she had been on time for school for once.
───※ ·❆· ※───
21st of January, 1h before the reveal
“I can’t believe you made me wake up at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning,” Marinette shook her head.
Adrien laughed and held her hand tighter as he pulled her along with him, striding alongside the Seine. “But you have to admit that it was worth it.”
Spending time with you is worth the world, she thought. I could wake up at five if that’s what you wanted. She didn’t say any of that out loud. They had only barely started dating, after all. It could scare him off.
Instead, she let half a smile pull at her lips. “I suppose.”
Adrien stopped in his tracks and turned to her. “It was worth it! It just snowed during the night—for once! It’s so rare, we have to enjoy it! And the sunrise was beautiful!”
She crossed her arms, pretending to think about it and evaluate her morning.
“It was,” Adrien insisted, pleaded for her to agree.
“Fine,” she conceded, giggling. “It was beautiful. I’m glad you forced me out of bed.”
She was rewarded by a brilliant smile, that melted her heart despite the cold January air on her cheeks, and a kiss on her forehead (that melted her whole).
A giddy laugh escaped her and she couldn’t help but kiss his nose, making him giggle, the sound sweeter than the glockenspiel a busker was playing a few meters away.
Adrien’s cheeks were red when she pulled away—from the cold or from her kiss, she didn’t know, but she hoped for the latter. She decided to grab his winter hat, leaving his hair all messy on top and wide eyes of outraged shock on his face. Adrien, she had realised, really liked when she was messing with him and she berated herself for never having dared to do such a thing before.
In retaliation, he grabbed her own hat and put it on his head. “Jokes on you,” he said, “now I have a pink pompom while you have a lame black one!”
She laughed as she put his hat on her own head. He likes me, she chanted in her head. He loves me even. He loves me, he loves me, and I love him. All was well that day. All was perfect.
“When are we meeting up with Alya and Nino for lunch, again?”
“I think we still have an hour,” Adrien replied.
It felt like nothing could disrupt their date, their day, them, really.
───※ ·❆· ※───
21st of January, the reveal
Accidents were stupid, most of the time. One second of miscalculation, one careless mistake and every neatly protected secret could be disrupted forever.
Detransforming in the same alleway was probably the stupidest, lamest and most careless way to reveal their identities, Marinette and Adrien thought, as they faced each other with wide eyes and heart beating too fast in their rib cages with their kwamis hanging incriminatingly at their side.
Marinette didn’t think. She ran.
───※ ·❆· ※───
21st of January, 1h30 after the reveal
To say the atmosphere was awkward was an understatement. They were barely glancing at each other, passing each other the salt without brushing a finger or looking where they handed it.
Marinette overfilled Adrien’s glass when pouring him some water; Adrien startled when Marinette’s hand accidentally brushed his arm while trying to clean his table up.
They were a mess.
In a way, Marinette was glad that Alya and Nino were here to provide distraction.
She just hoped they wouldn’t notice the tension between her and Adrien.
“So, how have you two lovebirds been doing? Still in the chummy-chummy phase?”
So much for that. There was an awkward silence, none of them knowing what to really say.
“Sure,” she decided to take the plunge and ate a mouthful of fries so she wouldn’t have to explain further.
Alya and Nino said nothing, looking between the two of them.
“We’ve been, uh…we went walking around the Seine this morning,” Adrien mumbled. “To see the snow and, uh…”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Marinette cut. She couldn’t believe she was managing to talk to him. “Y-your...your winter hat.”
She handed it to him and Adrien looked at it for a few seconds before taking it back, his face crumbling and disheartened.
“...Thanks. Um, here is yours, I suppose.”
Marinette closed her eyes tight as she snatched her hat from his hands, feeling nauseous all of a sudden.
Where did they stand, now? They had barely even started dating. Could they brush off the massive new developments that were their identities? Could superheroes even date?
White flashed before her eyes. Her heart did a somersault, and the nausea intensified, making her head spin.
Stupid. Idiot, superheroes couldn’t date, least of all her and Adrien.
It was unfair that she was having these thoughts now, when she still didn’t know what was going on in her head—Adrien, Chat Noir, her partner. The same… so similar yet so different.
He had given her a rose when he had confessed. It was such a Chat Noir thing to do...she should have known.
They were the same person and it was awkward and she needed time she didn’t get the luxury to have. The second she thought she had acknowledged this information, it would all come back the next with the panic accompanying it.
The silence following must have been long and heavy because Alya took in a sharp breath. “Okay. What’s going on between you two? You’ve been acting awkward since we’ve got here.”
───※ ·❆· ※───
23rd of January, 2 days after the reveal
“So, this is it?”
Adrien felt the knot in his throat tighten a little more and more as Marinette kept looking to the side, silent, avoiding his gaze. He didn’t know why he asked; he knew the answer. And he knew that hearing it would cut like a knife, but maybe that’s what he needed instead of foolishly pretending there was hope.
“This...this is it,” she finally said in a breath.
He swallowed. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she repeated.
“I… okay.” Okay. Because what could he say? It wasn’t like he could decide for her.
If it was only on him, of course he wouldn’t want anything to end. Of course he would fight for them, and try and see where they’d go, identities be damned because...well, it was still them, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry. I...I really am. It’s just… It’s…” Marinette sighed. “It’s just that it’s a lot to take in, you know?”
She had finally raised her eyes to his, and Adrien had to fight back tears; maybe it would have been better if she had continued to avoid him.
So he was the one to turn his eyes away this time.
“I guess,” he couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice to show through. “I just...I didn’t know it would be so bad.”
“It’s not! It’s not that! It’s just that… we still...we still need to get used to this,” she gestured between them, “and… superheroes ca—”
“—can’t date, I know. I understand. I mean—not completely, but... I get it.”
And he did; really, he did get it.
It was selfish of him, probably, to not want things to stop. He found that it was also maybe a little selfish of her to want them to.
None of them had decided to be heroes—and yet they had to bear the consequences of such a responsibility.
Looking back at her, she had now dropped down her eyes and wasn’t watching him anymore. A strong gust of wind blew on the balcony, making Marinette’s hair wave with it.
“It’s getting late,” Adrien spoke. “And you’re freezing out here. I should get going. We’ll see each other tomorrow at school.”
He extended his baton.
“Adri—Chat Noir! Wait!”
She grabbed his tail, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around. She was fidgeting, and looked tentatively into his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I hope it’s not...I hope it’s not too hard but…”
He sighed. “I’m not gonna lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt. It...it does. A lot. It’s like…” he sighed. “It’s like we had everything, and then…” He paused. “But I guess… none of us can control the way we feel, right?”
She nodded numbly. He attempted to give a smile, but he knew he wasn’t doing a good job at it.
“I just wished I knew what’s wrong with me, “ he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
“I… it’s not… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” Marinette tried. He could hear her voice trembling. I don’t think there’s anything right with me either, he didn’t say—and she didn’t say either, he noted with a bitter smile. “We’re just a mess right now.”
She bit her lip and he had to force to keep his eyes on hers. He felt terrible. Worse than all those times she had rejected him, because—well, because now he knew just how much he was losing.
“That we are.”
“We’re still...we’re still friends, right?” she asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.
“It’s you and me against the world, so… of course.” He shrugged.
And with that, he left, finally letting the tears blur his vision on his way home.
Tonight, their old promise sounded more bitter than comforting. Them against the world, the heroes fighting for the city, forced together by their duty and pulled apart at the same time.
───※ ·❆· ※───
23rd of January, 2 days after the reveal
Marinette rushed back inside her bedroom as soon as Adrien had left and threw her head in her pillow, crying her heart out. Screaming to Tikki how unfair it was to have to be responsible, at Master Fu for choosing this life for her, at herself for following it, at Adrien and Chat Noir for being the same people.
Shouting at Adrien again, at another Adrien she hadn’t even really known that it was all his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault, all his fault. She knew it was unfair of her—but she needed to put the blame on someone, and Chat Blanc, who didn’t exist anymore, seemed like a good candidate, no matter how wrong she knew it was.
───※ ·❆· ※───
24th of January, 3 days after the reveal
“...My father wanted us to break up.”
Marinette shrunk on herself. She wished she had been able to come up with a better excuse on the spot. Anything that would have avoided Adrien’s cold and numb tone when he repeated her flimsily excuse.
But nothing sounded plausible enough; nothing else could explain this sudden change in their dynamic.
“It...it was a surprise, really, we weren’t expecting it,” she tried, hoping he would follow her lead.
Adrien clicked his tongue. “A surprise, indeed.”
“Aaaand you didn’t think of dating in secret becaaause…?” Alya drawled, the cease in her brow increasing the longer she looked between the two of them.
“Because… well… because…” Marinette fumbled, trying to think of a way out because Alya wasn’t wrong and it was a flaw in her carelessly crafted plan.
“Because Marinette didn’t want to,” Adrien supplied curtly.
Alya and Nino’s heads snapped towards her with incredulous looks in their eyes, making her involuntarily shrink on herself even more.
“She said it wasn’t worth a try,” he shrugged and sat down, his back now to her.
Alya looked between the two with a mix of worry, incomprehension and a hint of pity. Marinette didn’t dare look at Nino to see what emotions would flicker in his eyes.
“That’s not it, it’s…” she struggled, took a deep breath, and tried again. She had to roll with what he came up with. “If he were to find out we...we’d be in trouble. You’d be in trouble… and I don’t want that,” she whispered the last words.
“Like I said,” Adrien said coolly, half turning towards them. “Not even worth a try.”
Her heart crumpled.
───※ ·❆· ※───
26th of january, 5 days after the reveal
“Chat Noir, you’re here!” Marinette exclaimed, relieved.
He twirled his baton, deflecting a spurt of gooey green liquid she could only dread to know the composition of—some akumas truly were more disgusting than others to deal with. “As for every akuma.” He raised a brow. “Don’t act so surprised.”
She startled. In the midst of all the action, in the hope and wait for his arrival—because she always felt bolder and stronger once her partner was by her side—she had forgotten.
This was Adrien, her ex-boyfriend with whom she had broken up and had upsetted. And who still wasn’t talking to her much. Thinking about him as ‘ex’ suddenly hurt as she realised it was the first time she was referring to him as such in her head.
Marinette blinked back remorseful tears and tried ignoring the tightness in her chest to focus on the akuma again. She still needed to find where the akumatised object was, and she couldn’t let her emotions get in the way of her job.
She decided to pretend things were fine. “His name is Snowtty, we don’t know the victim but it’s a kid who was made fun of for having a runny nose after receiving a snowball in his face. Try to avoid his green spurts, they would freeze you on the spot!”
Adrien barely nodded before jumping into action, without so much as a word of acknowledgement like he would usually do. It hurt more than she would care to admit.
She knew they hadn’t talked since that evening on her balcony, but she had hoped he just needed time to process and that it wasn’t deeper than that. He had said they were still friends, hadn’t he?
Trying to ignore the sting in her eyes, she jumped after him into the fight.
“Ladybug! I see your pet has arrived to the scene as well,” Snowtty sneered. “All the better for me, I need both your miraculous after all!”
“I’m my own person, thank you very much,” Chat Noir said, none of his usual teasing in his voice. “And you won’t be getting any miraculous. Why don’t you give us your akuma instead and save everyone’s time? You’re just gonna lose like the others do, anyway.”
The akuma let out a growl of frustration and double-fired in their direction. Marinette ran for cover using her yoyo as a deflecting shield, Adrien using his baton.
He didn’t take cover with her.
She called him and was almost relieved when he picked up.
“Okay, he’s angrier than I thought he was. Any idea where the akuma could be?”
“You’re telling me you don’t?” he raised a brow. “He’s throwing his substance from that bracelet he has on his left wrist, and there aren’t any other objects.”
It seemed obvious now. But she wasn’t at the top of her game and was far too focused on her relationship with her partner than she was on the fight at hand, and she realised how detrimental it could be—not letting her personal life interfere with her duties as Ladybug was one of the rules she had promised herself to never break, yet here she was.
“Right,” she said, voice wavering. “I… Right. You’re right. Good job, Kitty.”
She regretted the nickname as soon as it left her mouth.
“‘tis nothing, Ladybug,” he shrugged. “Guess you cast your lucky charm and I distract him as usual.”
“Not yet, I need to first figure ou—” She let out a sigh as he ended the call, and turned to see him heading back straight for the akuma.
Well. The message was clear.
Throwing her yoyo angrily in the air, she called on her lucky charm. And was rewarded for her effort with an umbrella.
She wanted to scream.
She glanced up and closed her eyes, temporarily blinded by the brightness of the sun. “And it’s not even raining,” she grumbled.
She stomped away from her hiding place, only to be thrown on the ground a second after.
“Wha—”
Adrien was hovering over her and spared a glance behind towards Snowtty before standing and helping her up.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
But he ran back towards the akuma without so much as a glance in her direction. The momentary relief she felt when he saved her evaporated right away. She ran after him.
She hated how he could be upset with her in the middle of an akuma fight but still be able to focus on the task at hand. Because he was paying great care to the akuma and his surroundings and was trying to actively find a solution to put an end to the fight—something she had a harder time doing when her personal feelings were getting overwhelming. She couldn’t reproach him for that. It was just incredibly infuriating.
“Adri—Chat Noir, will you please talk to me and stop ignoring me?” Marinette exploded, frustrated. “It’s been two days and now is not the time!”
“Bold words from someone who ran away and avoided me for two days after discovering my identity,” Adrien snapped back, avoiding another blast of green.
Her heart stuttered painfully. He was right, but it made it no less hurtful to hear. She and Chat Noir had argued in the past, and while it had never been pleasant, it was something they knew how to navigate through — how to come out stronger from. She and Adrien, however? Never. She hadn’t even fathom the possibility of it ever coming up one day. Any comebacks she could have had died on her tongue, and Ladybug found herself speechless.
They both ran for cover once again behind the safety of a rooftop chimney, leaving Snowtty growling at having lost their track.
She swallowed painfully. “Listen. I know you’re hurt, I understand and you have every right to be. But we need to work together right now.”
He kicked some of the remaining snow from the roof, fidgeting with his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t think my father would approve of that.”
She frowned. “Of what?”
“Us working togeth—” he sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Sorry. Forget I said anything, that was rude. Let’s...let’s just get back to the fight. I’ll behave.”
She grabbed his hand before he could vault away. “Wait.”
“Ladybug, I don’t think we have the time to talk or—”
“And I think it’s important that we talk now,” she said, giving him a pleading look. “Please.”
He kept eye contact with her for a few seconds before glancing hesitantly towards the city, nibbling at his lower lip. “Okay,” he finally murmured.
She involuntarily squeezed his hand in relief. He didn’t squeeze back, but he didn’t take it away either.
She hadn’t taken the time to focus on her feelings for him in the midst of her freakout about his identity; the warmth of his hand and the tips of his claws barely grazing hers and enhancing its delicacy made her realise that if anything, they had only gotten stronger.
It was painfully heartwarming.
“Are you...are you still… upset, about us, um… about me… you know…” she gestured between them.
“Breaking up with me?” He shook his head. “No. I’m hurt, yes. But that’s your right. That’s not what I’m angry about.”
“Then what…” she trailed off.
He sighed. “I thought I had made it clear, but I guess not.” He paused and kicked some more snow. “I didn’t like you telling everyone that my father forced us to break up,” he mumbled, and she had to listen carefully to pick up every word.
She blinked. “That’s… it?” She threw her hands in front of her at the glare he sent her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong… I agree it wasn’t my best excuse, but we had to find one that sounded plausible and…”
“That’s the thing, Marinette,” he said. “You decided to use my father as your excuse without asking me first.” He wrapped his arms around himself and looked to the ground. “I know my father isn’t… isn’t the best and that he can be… a little strict, but… He wouldn’t do that.”
There was a beat of silence.
“He wouldn’t do that,” he repeated more quietly.
She didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or her; but she didn’t know Gabriel Agreste much and thus couldn’t confirm nor refute his words.
He shook his head. “But the thing is… How would you have felt if I had told everyone that...that your parents had forced us to break up?” He lifted his gaze towards her, green eyes piercing through her.
“Oh,” she said, understanding dawning on her. “Oh. I see.”
“Yeah.”
“I hadn;t...I hadn’t thought about that,” Marinette admitted.
“Well.”He sniffed, angrily wiping at his eyes. “You should have.”
She hadn’t noticed that he was on the verge of crying, but she instantly felt shame coursing through her.
He kicked the snow harder. “And the worst part is… the worst part is that… it workedI he almost spat. “They...they believed your excuse. They didn’t even doubt it, they just….” He gestured with his hands .“...Bought it as if it was obvious and that...that hurt.”
She stayed quiet for a few seconds, taking it in. She didn’t want to start the conversation now as to why it had been that easy for their friends to believe his father would do such a thing—it was something that they would have to discuss another day. A day on which he’d be more ready.
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I panicked because I...I realised I hadn’t thought of a reason for our breakup. My mind was busy with something else.” She chuckled dryly with a hand gesture in the air. “But you’re right, I crossed a line and that’s not an excuse. I probably would have killed you if you had told them my parents were the reason for our breakup.”
A timid smile appeared on his lips. “Good thing it was just me, then.”
She giggled tearily. “Yeah, good thing. But still. I hope you can forgive me. I promise I’ll be more careful.”
He sighed. “You know I can’t stay mad at you for very long, Marinette. Thank you. And I apologise too. I… I probably overreacted. And I should have known better than to snap during a fight.”
She smiled. “It’s okay. But maybe now, don’t wait until there’s an akuma to talk to me. Now that we know each other’s identities, you don’t need to.”
“I think I needed time to… digest that. But you’re right, will do.”
They looked at each other, smiling shyly as an awkward silence settled between them.
“So, Ladybug,” Adrien spoke with a wobbly smile, glancing towards the lucky charm in her hands, “shall we go back to the fight so you can play Mary Poppins?”
It still wasn’t a ‘my Lady’ or a ‘Buguinette’, and there was no wink to accompany his teasing, but he was back to joking. She would take it.
“Of course.” She smiled. “But let me recharge first.”
───※ ·❆· ※───
15th of February, 25 days after the reveal
“Psssst, come here, kitty kitty! I just want to be your frien—”
Marinette groaned as the ginger cat ran away, joining a tabby cat further up the alleway.
A chuckle from behind her startled her. “Looks like you’re having cat troubles.”
She turned around to meet her partner’s cat-like eyes, and yes, she was having cat troubles, indeed.
“They don’t like me,” she just said.
Adrien seemed to search her eyes for a second or two, his expression unreadable. “You know that’s not true.”
She didn’t know if the conversation was about the cats in the street anymore, and she wasn’t sure whose fault it was. But soon after, Adrien shook his head, blond hair softly sweeping against his cheeks, and let a smile pull at his lips.
He crouched down, grabbed his belt tail and slowly moved it around.
“You need to let them come to you.”
Marinette watched the tail slither, half hypnotised by the movement, until she heard the soft tapping of his claws on the ground. His fingers drummed in a steady rhythm, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how delicate the motion was.
It seemed that some cats around agreed because, soon enough, one advanced towards him, while another had laid down and began wiggling his butt and tail, ready to pounce.
She looked back at Adrien and he was smiling widely at them, anticipating their every move and excited to see their reactions. He looked so happy, so carefree and her heart did a somersault at the sight — she knew that she shouldn’t think like this, but she wished she had been the one he was looking at. She wished she could be one of these kittens, ready to tackle him to the ground, so they could fall in a heap of laughter together. So they could suddenly stop, and gaze into each other’s eyes, getting lost in each other, and maybe, just maybe, lean a little bit closer and ki—
“Wow.” Adrien’s loud laughter shook her out of her reverie. “No need to bite me, little one!”
While a small grey cat had attacked his tail and was nibbling at it, rolling on the floor, another one was more focused on his hand.
The white one with blue eyes.
“Careful,” she told him, “that one’s nasty.”
Adrien continued to play with the cat, moving a finger around and hovering it above his nose that the kitten tried to take a mouthful of.
“What? Why do you say that?”
“Well, he bit you. And earlier, he scratched me. Good thing my suit could protect me or my arms would have been covered in blood,” she informed.
Adrien smiled. “That doesn’t make him nasty.”
She spluttered. “Wha—? How—of course it does! He’s a mean cat, trust me on this! All white cats with blue eyes are!”
He chuckled, giving him a fond look the kitten didn’t deserve. “Good thing I’m a black cat, then.”
She shuddered.
“And he’s not mean,” he went on, “he’s broken.”
Marinette frowned. “What do you mean, ‘broken’?”
Somehow, Adrien had managed to pet the cat on the head, making him let out a contented meow. “Cats who have been abandoned or rejected by their mother too young tend to be more aggressive,” he explained, a pained smile she wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. “They scratch and bite a lot because in a way, they’re kind of lost.”
He took him in his arms and kissed his nose, to which the cat answered with a small ‘meow’. Staying close to his face, he scratched under his chin that the cat was exposing happily to him as a sign of complete trust. Adrien’s smile melted when a purr rumbled out of the kitten, and Marinette hung on it with both fascination and envy.
He let out a breathy chuckle. “See? He just needs someone to show him they care.”
“Show him they care,” she repeated dumbly. She could do that. She coul— “What if...what if it still doesn’t change anything?”
Adrien’s gaze left the kitten to turn to her. “What do you mean?”
“What if...What if even if someone cares about him, and cares about him so much they would sacrifice their own happiness for him if it came to it, and shows him everyday and tells him everyday but he still…” She stopped, fumbling with her words for a second. “...He still keeps biting and scratching and feeling lost and alone a-and no one can save him?” She lifted her eyes to his, only to find her vision blurry.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?” Adrien breathed.
“M-maybe, this cat is doomed from the start. Maybe he’ll be like that forever, no matter what and maybe they’ll all be like that and—”
“My Lady,” a hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her from spiralling further—and here it was, the ‘my Lady ‘she’d been craving for so much, at the most unexpected time. “That’s stupid. I’m not sure if it’s about cats anymore,” he chuckled, “but I’ll pretend it is.”
She blinked back tears. He kept on, “Yes, some of these hurt cats never change. But not all of them! You can never really know what will happen, how they’ll evolve, because they’re all different, and they’ll all live different lives.”
He smiled at her, his delicate hand never leaving her shoulder, while the other continued petting the purring white kitten. “We can’t guess what will happen to them. All we can do is try, and take the risk. And maybe the owners of this lovely kitty will be lucky and have a loving ball of fur”— he bopped the cat’s nose who in turn let out a small ‘meow’— “or they’ll be less lucky and have a little monster that—ouch,” he said, as the cat chased his bopping finger to bite it, “bite them from time to time but still would be worth caring for.” He sighed a chuckle.
Marinette swallowed, taking it in. “So you mean that… the future of this cat isn’t… set in stone?” she asked carefully.
“Of course not! No one can know what he’ll grow into now, it will depend on a lot of factors.” He took his hand off her shoulder to lift the cat off his lap and nuzzle his nose with his. “Isn’t that right, little one? You’ll be a good kitty, won’t you?”
She let a smile pull at her lips at the sight. Adrien turned to face her with a big goofy grin on his face.
“If our future was written in our DNA, we’d have known all about our futures a long time ago,” he chuckled.
She let his words sink in, closing her eyes. What if...what if.
What if their love wouldn’t destroy the world, this time.
But what if it did again.
...But what if it didn’t?
She heaved a sigh, releasing some of the tension that had been weighing down on her. When she opened her eyes, it was to see that Adrien was back to playing with the kitten.
“And what are we gonna call you, hm? Ooooh, I know! See, I’m Chat Noir, so that would make you Chat Bla—”
“—FLOCON!” Marinette interrupted him.
He blinked at her. “Chat Flocon?”
“No, just...just Flocon. He’s white as snow, and fluffy like a snowflake, so it makes sense. And,” she added after a beat, “it’s cute.”
And it reminded her of that date they shared, just before revealing their identities, strolling through a snowy Paris. It was a memory she cherished, even if it didn’t end quite well.
Adrien grinned. “Okay. Flocon it is.” He scratched the cat’s chin, who purred in turn and tried to bite his finger again. “No,” he told him, “I said no biting, you thickhead.”
She could watch him bicker with a kitten for hours, she thought.
“Hey, Buguinette,” he called out to her, pulling her out of her momentary reverie, “you wanna hold Flocon?”
She blinked. “Errr… I don’t know if that's a good idea or…”
He laughed. “He’s not that aggressive. It’s up to you; but if you want to try befriending him again…” He held a half-wiggling and meowing Flocon in the air towards her.
Marinette bit her lip, and took a deep breath. Maybe it was a bad idea to cave, but... “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll give him a try.”
───※ ·❆· ※───
26th of April, 95 days after the reveal
“Adrien, aren’t you gonna snap her in half?” Alya asked with incredulous eyes.
It made both him and Marinette giggle. “It’s like she doesn’t know that you’re usually the one snapping me in half between the two of us,” Adrien whispered in her ear, which made her laugh harder. “She said she wanted to!” he told Alya louder.
“Yes, Alya,” Marinette added, “I’m a strong girl and I can carry him! Right, Adrien?”
“Right!” he replied enthusiastically, clinging harder on her back.
He wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he was too busy feeling lighthearted and free on this spring afternoon. It was the first warm day of the year, with only a slightly chilly breeze coming to ruffle his hair at times that only contributed in increasing his giddiness. For the fifth time this day, he thanked the star that made his father allow him to go out to the temporary funfair with his friends—though he thought they were studiously working on a school project.
“It’s not because you can carry him that you should,” Nino said, shaking his head fondly.
“You’re just jealous because Alya isn’t carrying you.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Let’s ride to the moon and back!”
“To the moon and back!” Adrien repeated, one hand raised in the air.
Marinette let out a warrior cry before attempting to run, albeit slowly because of his weight, and he could tell they wouldn’t go far as he already felt himself slide down and her grip on his legs slacken.
He should have known they’d fall face first before she got too exhausted. If he had, maybe he’d have had the time to react and avoid it.
As it was, he just found himself on top of Marinette on the ground. He lifted himself up and sat down, Marinette soon doing the same.
Distantly, he heard Alya and Nino running towards them shouting “are you okay”s and “are you hurt”s at profusion, but he didn’t pay them any mind as Marinette looked up at him with eyes glinting with mirth and they both fell in a heap of laughters.
Some passersby looked at them funnily while others whispered some “that must hurt”s or “everything alright?”s to them.
“It’s okay,” Adrien told them. “We’ve had it worse!”
“Yes,” Marinette chimed in. “One time we were thrown by an akuma—”
“—A big tuna," he quickly corrected.
“—a big tuna, he’s right,” she repeated, “and we both fell right into a moving bus, and we survived!”
“And you find that funny,” Nino deadpanned, putting his hands on his hips as Adrien helped Marinette up.
Adrien just grinned at him. “Yup! We’re the survivors.”
“And we’re gonna make it!” Marinette sang.
“You’re insufferable,” Alya chuckled. “The both of you. I don’t know how you two can be more unhinged than me with Marinette, but—”
“—That’s because we’re exes besties,” Adrien chirped. Despite the months that had passed, it always hurt a little to call each other “exes”. But he had long since learned that laughing at his suffering was better than crying over it. He just wondered when and if he’ll ever be over her one day. He probably never really would.
“Hey,” Nino said indignantly. “But you’re my best friend!”
“Maybe, but are you also exes, hm?” Marinette asked him. “Because we are, and it makes us the unstoppable exes besties! And now, our next stop will be…” She jumped on Adrien’s back without warning and he caught her with a ‘oof’. “...to that splashing boat attraction over there!”
“Dudes, you already fell once, what are you doing?”
“We’re getting back up, Nino, and we try again,” she announced proudly, raising her fist up. “Let’s go to the boat, Adrien, and may our ship sail! Go, go, go!”
Adrien faintly heard a ‘they’re beyond help’ from Alya as he ran towards the attraction, both his and Marinette’s laughters echoing in the wind.
───※ ·❆· ※───
28th of May, 127 days after the reveal
Adrien landed with a grunt on the pavement. The suit was a good protector, but it didn’t stop his back from hurting from the impact with the ground. This akuma — Firebender as he called himself — truly was more violent than usual.
“Wow,” he managed to breath between two gasps, “you’re on fire today!”
He tried to push himself up with an arm, and raised his head towards Firebender with a half-closed eye. The fireball he saw coming towards him arrived so fast that he didn’t even have the time to do so much as widening his eyes. An anguish cry was the last thing he heard before it faded and he saw nothing at all.
───※ ·❆· ※───
28th of May, 127 days after the reveal
Marinette realised she was screaming when she felt her lungs were empty.
Usually, when an akuma took lives, the victims just disappeared into thin air, as if they had never been. They weren’t lying there, unmoving on the pavement like Adrien was. Somehow, seeing was worse than not.
She felt dizzy, as if everything around her was moving in slow motion. She staggered, trying to turn her head away from the sight of her unresponsive partner who was becoming blurrier and blurrier the longer she looked at him. She needed to breathe, she needed to—
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” she screeched instead, the sound reverberating into the street, bouncing from building to building.
She took a ragged breath, and another, closing her eyes as she took in the dead silence that greeted her scream.
She swallowed her first sob and squeezed her eyes tight shut, taking yet another heavy breath. She turned towards the akuma before opening her eyes, otherwise she knew she wouldn’t be able to tear her gaze away from Adrien’s dead form. She gritted her teeth as soon as the thought of him being gone entered her mind again.
“You’re a monster,” she spat, low and cold, the last word echoing through the silence and carrying her voice to Firebender’s ears — to Hawkmoth’s.
All these days worrying over the possibility of a devastating future she had seen, all this time doing everything she could to avoid it no matter how little she knew of it, and she hadn’t considered the possibilities she hadn’t been a witness of. All these days flirting with the line between caving and resisting only for her regretful indecision to hit her in the most cruel way.
“Give up, Ladybug,” Hawkmoth spoke through Firebender, “you no longer have your pet. All you have to do is surrender your miracu—”
“And what?” she spat. “Let my partner die? Listen to me, Hawkmoth. I have a chance to save him, and for that I need to defeat you. You think I’m stupid? I’m not giving up on Paris. I’m not giving up on him!”
And I’m not giving up on us, she told herself.
“Lucky charm!” she roared, rage and determination coursing through her veins.
She knew nothing about how Chat Blanc had really happened, she realised, catching the spotted chain falling from above. Nothing about her current future, as she scanned her surroundings for a solution. Nothing but the crushing weight of the present and her fear of the unknown, as she opened her yoyo to retrieve the dragon miraculous and put it around her neck.
“Tikki, Longg, unify!”
As she surrounded herself with water and ran towards Firebender with only one goal in mind, she promised herself to never let the gifts the present gives her slide in favour of hypothetical futuristic tragedies. She was finally done running away and sacrificing her life to her fears.
───※ ·❆· ※───
28th of May, 127 days after the reveal
Light suddenly flooded Adrien’s vision as he took a sharp and deep intake of breath. His lungs were burning with the sudden air filling them up, and he squinted his eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He groggily lifted himself up on his elbows when—
“Chaton!”
—a red blur threw herself at him. He caught her, her hair in his nose and her warm breath and hot tears in his neck.
He let her sob and squeeze him as understanding washed over him. He gently threaded his clawed fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp, noticing absent-mindedly that she was also wearing the dragon miraculous.
She slowly detangled herself from him but stayed close, looking into his eyes through her wet ones and caressing his cheek with her thumb.
“Kitty,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, “my Kitty.”
He didn’t have the time to react before her lips were on his and she took her time to savour him before ever so slowly pulling away. He let her do.
She didn’t stop there. Gently cradling his face in her trembling hands, she kissed his cheek. And his other cheek. And his forehead. His nose. His jaw. Puncturing each of her kisses with whispers of “mon Chaton”, or “Kitty”, or “my love”, to which his heart made a somersault at, before diving for his neck.
Each time he kept on letting her do, keeping her close to him as she sobbed through her kisses and yet another nickname for him.
He could feel her breathing him in; so, with his nose in her hair, he inhaled her scent too. Her hot breath left his neck once again, and she came back for his lips.
This time, he kissed her back, and as soon as his lips moved against hers, she choked on a sobbed whine and pushed her mouth closer to his, if that was even possible
He hadn’t forgotten the taste of her lips on his, even after all these months; but he also knew their kisses had never burnt so intensely, driven by despair, the need to memorise the present and the aroma of being alive.
───※ ·❆· ※───
1st of June, 131 days after the reveal
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
Marinette smiled sadly. “Oh, I don’t know. Hurting you. Putting us through this mess. Not telling you about Chat Blanc. Take your pick.”
She let her arms rest on the railing of the bridge, looking across the Seine. The clouds were getting darker and darker, though a sunray pierced through one of them, lighting up a few buildings on the shore in a powerful atmosphere. Her eyes followed a barge floating further and further away, waiting for the moment it would cross the ray of light.
“You’ve been hurting too,” Adrien said after a few seconds. “You’ve been shouldering it all on your own. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
His hand slid into hers and she welcomed it, intertwining her fingers timidly with his. She glanced at him with a tentative smile and he smiled back, looking at her with soft eyes. She looked back towards the Seine just in time to see the barge slicing through the sunbeam.
“Still. Maybe, if I had told you… if I hadn’t let my fears get the best of me…” She trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
“And maybe,” Adrien spoke when it was clear she wouldn’t add something more, squeezing her hand once, “if you had told me earlier, I would have given up Chat Noir.”
She gasped and turned to him, but he was looking at the Seine with saddened eyes.
“What do you mean?” she breathed.
“I’m not sure I’d have been able to handle hearing that I could destroy the world as an akuma,” he whispered, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb as if to reassure her. “It’s… really hard already, but I feel like it would’ve been worse before.”
He turned his head towards her again and she held his gaze, gripping his hand harder as if to dare him to leave.
“You said it yourself,” he went on, “just like we have no idea about what the future can really hold, we can’t know how things would have played out if we had done things differently. What really matters right now is what you want us to be from now on.”
She searched his expectant eyes for a few seconds before looking back at the Seine. A tourist boat coming towards them had replaced the barge in the sunspot before the window of clouds closed on the light, leaving only a dark atmosphere in its place. The clouds grew darker and a warm gust had picked up, making their hair fly in every direction and their clothes ruffling in a frenzy. Marinette felt her emotions growing with the wind, begging to be said and to explode.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and feeling the wind coursing through her as she gathered her thoughts, and opened them again.
“I love you, Adrien,” she spoke, her declaration followed by a distant rumble in the sky. “I love you so, so much. Discovering that you were Chat Noir, once I took it all in… it was the best thing in the world, but also the worst.”
She faced away from the Seine to face him instead and take both his hands in hers, gripping them as tight as she could to ground herself as she felt a flow of tears coming in.
“It made me fall in love with you so much more it hurt, but I knew I couldn’t be with you or I knew I shouldn’t because…” She paused, taking ragged breaths. “...Because it wouldn’t be responsible. Because we’re superheroes and because I had this warning with Chat Blanc, and as the guardian it’s my role to keep us grounded and to do the right thing.”
A lighting bolt pierced through the sky, accompanied by a loud thunderstrike a few seconds later. Adrien was looking at her with a pain in his eyes that she knew meant he was hurting for her and not him.
“But I don’t want to do the right thing this time,” she murmured, as she felt a first drop of water slide down her cheek. “I’m tired of doing what’s supposedly right. Not when...not when we’re both hurting so much that it feels like it’s more dangerous to stay this way instead of just… giving in.”
At this point, she didn’t know who out of her and Adrien were gripping the other’s hands the tightest. She felt more and more raindrops falling on her face and clothes. She didn’t know if the water in his eyes were because he was tearing up or not.
“So maybe our love destroyed the world, once,” she continued, “but I think there’s enough far more damaging hate in this world; and ever since these akuma attacks started, what saved it is our love — for Paris, for our family and friends… and for each other.”
Adrien’s eyes now held a glint of adoration. His now damped hair was sticking to his face while some strands curled with the water. She supposed hers wasn’t faring much better.
“So to answer your question,” she swallowed a sob, “I want us to be together… if you’ll have me.”
Lightning ripped through the sky accompanied by deafening thunder as Adrien pulled her into a crushing hug. She put her arms around his neck to pull him even closer to her and let the flow of her tears finally mix with the rain on her cheeks.
“Marinette,” he whispered, voice wavering and lips barely touching her ear, “I love you, of course I’ll have you. I’ll always have you.”
The rain fell even harder as they hugged closer and cried, soaking them, yet they couldn’t care less. Their clothes were sticking to their bodies, growing more and more uncomfortable, which was worsened by them being in each other’s arms, but Marinette hadn’t felt so good in a long time.
She suddenly pulled away from the hug and cradled his head between her hands. He took her face in his and they stayed closed, forehead against forehead, breathing each other in. Another rumbled resounded and Marinette’s last resolve snapped with it—she brought her lips to his and kissed him.
He responded in kind, and she drank him in and pressed her mouth closer as she felt him doing the same. She should care about the rain falling and the thunder rumbling, but the battering of the elements were just making her feel freer, finally allowing her to get away from all her self restraints.
She sighed against Adrien’s lips as they kept coming back for more. They kissed their reunion, the relief of finding each other again, at last—unlike when he had come back from the dead earlier, these kisses tasted of the promise of more to come, because they knew they would stay together this time.
───※ ·❆· ※───
21st of January, 1h45 after the reveal
“Okay. What’s going on between you two? You’ve been acting awkward since we’ve got here.”
What was going on. What was going on.
“We’re fine,” the lie rolled out of her tongue easily. “Really.”
Alya raised a brow. “Adrien?”
She saw him smiling from the corner of her eyes. He was a much better actor than her—always had been.
“It’s nothing. It’s… we just… we’re working on it.”
...And much more honest than she was, be it with his feelings or with his heart. Always had been.
“Well,” Nino said, “I hope it’s not too big of a deal and that you’ll get over it soon. You guys are the cutest out there.”
Marinette smiled painfully. She glanced at Adrien who was looking at her with soft eyes that she didn’t deserve considering her reaction, and she felt his warm hand timidly covering hers.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I have hopes we will. We always do.”
───※ ·❆· ※───
21st of January, one year after the reveal
“You’re heavy,” Adrien gasped.
“That’s a rude thing to say to a lady,” Marinette commented from atop him, head resting on the arms she had folded on his chest. “And even more so to your girlfriend.”
He groaned and attempted to lift himself up. Fail. She was grinning at him and he pouted in fake-annoyance. “Not when said girlfriend is purposefully putting all her weight on you! I can’t breath!”
Marinette giggled and pressed herself further on him to which he let out a choked whimper, before pushing away from him after a few seconds, ending his suffocation.
“I could report you for attempting murder, you know,” he threatened with a finger. “‘Ladybug slips into teenage model Adrien Agreste’s room and proceeds to suffocate him’, now that would make the newspapers talk for months.”
She laughed and came back to hover over him. “‘And Adrien asked her to do it again’,” she smirked, and she bent down to peck his lips.
He couldn’t even argue with that.
He discreetly brought his hand close to where his head was lying to grab a pillow. When she pushed herself up and sat next to him, he quickly hit her head with it.
She gasped, betrayed and that sent him into a fit of laughter. She glared at him playfully, grabbed his other pillow, and swatted him way harder than he had.
“You’re dead, Kitty! You hear me?” she said, trying and failing not to laugh. “You’ve just signed your death contract!”
“No, my Lady, please I’m just a defenseless citizen!”
“I’ll knock you out with my yo-yo!” she threatened.
They fought again for a few minutes before stopping, Adrien breathless but Marinette only slightly out of breath due to being transformed.
“I hope your father won’t come in,” Marinette said.
“Don’t worry, if he or Nathalie come, you’ll just say you’re investigating here because, uh...because you suspect me of being Hawkmoth!”
She laughed. “Kitty, that’s such a stupid idea.”
“Why not?” Adrien wiggled his eyebrows. “After all, I do disappear during every akuma attack.”
Marinette smiled and crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as he steadied her with his hands on her hips. They lost themselves into each other’s eyes, faces close but not close enough to exactly touch.
“Then,” she murmured against his lips, and he felt his cheeks heating up. “I’ve come to seduce my enemy. Is it working?”
“I’d rather be your partner if that’s okay,” he whispered.
“Yes, but is it working Adrien?”
He chuckled—she didn’t even need to try, he’d always been too far gone when it came to her. “A bit too much.”
He kissed the proud and satisfied giggle from her lips.
#ml fanfic#miraculous#adrinette#ladynoir#identity reveal#pre-reveal post-relationship#but then#post-reveal pre-relationship#yes I made it both okay#breakup & getting back together#angst & fluff#happy ending#mention of chat blanc#hurt/comfort#temporary character death#but like it doesn't last long okay it's just an Akuma thing#myshitwriting
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with whatever happens from here, our names will last far beyond our years
for my armin angst anon :) thank you for the request, i honestly love angst and write it all the time outside of fanfic so idk why i don’t do it more often!
pairing: armin arlert x reader
wc: 1.5k
genre: angst, fluff (happy end)
a/n: takes place somewhere just before the events of season 4. also, hi guys! this is lowkey word vomit and i’m a bit out of practice so if this doesn’t seem like me, that’s why lol
they say that time heals all wounds, but in your case, time does nothing but prolong the constant sting in your throat. it denies the sinking acceptance your weary heart pleads for. because as long as you have time, you don’t have to face the truth.
so what if you love him? so what if it’s been years? so what if no matter what you do, you can’t let him go? it’s not like it’s going to change any time soon. but even if it did, even if you had the choice to move on, you’re not so sure you would. he’s the last bloom of the season left that you pick out of selfishness, the butterfly you’re blessed to catch yet hate to let go.
because if not him, who else?
armin is everything. he’s your reflection and your opposite, late nights and early mornings, kind and then cruel across his commitment to morality. he’s there on good days and bad days, with a smile or sympathy. if you’re lucky, you get both.
he’s brutally imperfect, perfectly human, and so easy to love.
but when standing against the end of humanity, there’s no room for childish fantasies like yours.
you love him so bad it hurts. he’s at the forefront of your mind at all times, even when he’s standing right in front of you. you think of him visiting that girl in the basement, day after day, frozen in her cowardly crystal as she hides from retribution. he waits, staring, and she occupies his mind when you desperately wish it could be you. what is it about a criminal that intrigues him past rationality?
yet the worst thought is that one day, you might not feel so strong.
it’s something keeping you around. it’s something to imagine on nights when the sun hangs in the sky as low as your hope for the future. he’s something to bet on and pin your fleeting dreams to. however long this feeling lasts, you hang on with all that you can, because waiting at the end is the inevitable sting of loving someone who doesn’t love you back.
it’s a realization you’re not ready to come to yet. for now, a little voice convinces you that there’s a chance. and a chance is enough, isn’t it?
you’re sitting by the docks, feeling the afternoon sun sear your skin, when gentle footsteps knocking on the wood alert you to his presence. when you crane your neck up to see him, he stretches his arms behind his head before sitting down next to you. it’s not surprising, considering armin makes a point to show he cares for all of his friends, but you still wonder if maybe how hard you were thinking about him somehow drew him in. you try to resist the heat burning at the skin of your cheeks fueled by his mere appearance.
“it’s a really nice night, huh?”
he sighs as he lowers his palm to the edge of the wood and throws his legs over, cementing his place beside you. you cling your knees close to your chest while your head rests upon them for support.
“yeah. i didn’t know it could be this pretty.”
tender rays of sunshine brush over his blond hair, making it shimmer like gold. it’s tentative, as if the great light source that keeps your world turning is even too afraid to touch armin arlert.
“me too, but i think i always hoped for it. expected it, at least,” he says with a nod. nostalgia swims in the pond of color in his eyes as he looks out across the water. “but that’s how it is when you’re a kid.”
you want to laugh. when you were a kid, you certainly weren’t concerned with the existence of an ocean beyond the walls. something tells you armin didn’t just expect it out of naivety.
“oh, please,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “you don’t give yourself enough credit. you practically know what’s going to happen before the rest of us have even started thinking about it.”
he lets out a breath of shy laughter through a smile. he’s too modest. “yeah, maybe.”
the blunt edge of your nail scratches at the fresh, amber wood to your side. you press a little more, digging it out like a miniature canyon while silence fills the air. armin opens his mouth and the proximity allows you to hear a rushed intake of air, like courage, filling his lungs before it hitches in his throat. it pauses there, contemplating, before he lets it out in faltered attempt to seem like it went according to plan.
but he swallows and tries again, because armin knows the world will always give him a second chance.
“speaking of… i wanted to talk to you in the first place because, well,” he cedes, rubbing his eyes, “i kind of get the feeling something big is about to happen.”
he chews at the corner of his lip, eyes darting to the side to gauge your reaction.
your head tilts in curiosity. “really? what makes you say that?”
you watch as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. his nails run along his cuticles, the natural folds in his palms, gathering his thoughts in preparation to set them all out.
his fingers tug through his bangs to soothe his tired roots. “well, it’s been a long time coming. with eren gone, sending notes, arranging plans. it’s coming to its climax, i think. and once it starts, it’s not gonna stop until it’s over.”
bright locks fall in front of his fact when a light gust of wind blows by. his cheeks are smooth and soft with a slight pink tint from the heat of the day, and his lashes are long and wispy, like the wings of an insect. you have to pry your gaze away though your heart pleads you for a second longer spent admiring.
“i really care about you. i just wanted you to know that.”
you’re not sure you hear it right at first. swept away with his image in the hazy evening, you almost miss that he’s talking to you directly. he cares about you. your pulse stutters.
he cares about you.
you blink, swallowing the apparent dryness in your mouth. “i care about you, too.”
after all this time, you should be used to it. the way how he cares will never be the same as how you care, it shouldn’t hurt you, but you still feel your eyes sting and throat tighten. you can’t help it.
you can’t look him in the eye. instead, you avert your attention to the place in the wood you’ve been indenting your nail. the pressure helps distract from the tears gathering along your lashline. it slowly forms the shape of your initial, a diminutive mark on the expansive docks soon to be walked over by thousands.
“is something wrong?”
your immediate reaction is to dismiss. the words are already slipping off your tongue, excuses that it’s the sun in your eyes and denials that you’re just tired, but they get stuck at the end. is it because the opportunity is here? something pushes them away from the edge as they desperately rock themselves back onto the safety of the cliff with flailing arms and wobbly legs.
hundreds of scenarios rush through your mind, of him getting up and leaving, of awkwardness, of anger and anguish, and yet it’s not enough to derail you. you can’t sit in your itches any longer. if the world is ending soon like he implies, then so be it, because god knows you’d take his word over anything.
“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, voice frail and barely above a whisper. “i just love you.”
you brace for impact, but it doesn’t come. the only sounds are the sawing of your nail, the squawks of distant birds, the waves crashing gently on the shore how they always do at dusk. then his fingers wrap around your wrist, still moving against the wood, to grasp your attention. his eyes are warm and inviting as you slowly lift your head to find them.
“i love you, too.”
a sad smile tugs at your lips. he doesn’t get it. honesty has never hurt so much. “no,” you confess with a sorrowed tinge, “like i love you.”
his eyes crinkle up like crescents. the grin adorning his cheeks is like a medallion, glowing and bright and entirely juxtaposed from the ache of yours. “i love you” he presses, eyebrows raising in emphasis.
“but…”
“but, what? you really doubt it?” he smiles with a breath, eyes crinkling shyly as he looks away. “i thought it was obvious.”
his thumb presses small circles into the back of your palm before letting go and brushing it away from where your hand covers your mark. his nail is much wider and blunt so it doesn’t take long for a faint ‘A’ to appear beside yours, a shade just lighter than the surface.
“if you think you were being obvious, you should have caught on to me earlier,” you laugh.
a coy smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, pressing a dimple into his skin. “maybe i did.”
“you did not.”
“okay, i didn’t. but,” he pauses, holding up his index finger, “i always hoped!”
it draws an airy, relieved laugh from your chest. armin leans down and blows the dust across the wood and sweeps away the extras with his hands.
your initials sit carved into the docks of your home with love, together. no matter if you are unable to return, they’ll still be here. if no one else is around to remember today, at least these letters will be imprinted with a story.
it’s proof of life, proof you lived, and most notably, proof that it was with armin arlert.
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