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timeless-fanfic · 16 days ago

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Where the Olive Trees Are

Word Count:

2,504

Pairing: Andrew x Reader

Note: This came in with a request that had several prompts! Here is #2!

Andrew was pacing. Again.

Simon lay stretched out in the shade near the shoreline, arms folded behind his head like he had nothing better to do than watch his brother unravel.

"You're going to wear a hole in the ground,” Simon called. “And probably your sandals.”

Andrew didn’t stop. “It’s not—this isn’t pacing. It’s… rehearsing.”

“For what? Your trial?” Simon sat up slightly, smirking. “Or are you finally going to ask her?”

Andrew groaned. “Don’t say it like that.”

“You mean with hope and pride and the knowledge that my brother is finally—finally—acting on something he’s been quietly dying over for months?”

Andrew shot him a look. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Absolutely.”

Andrew huffed and dropped down onto a flat stone nearby. His hands rubbed at his face, like that might somehow reset his thoughts.

“I just… I don’t want to make it weird,” he muttered.

“You think asking someone you like to spend time with you is weird?” Simon raised a brow. “That explains a lot about why you’ve been stuck.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is. It is exactly that simple. You like her.”

Andrew nodded, reluctantly.

“She’s kind, smart, generous, beautiful—”

“You can stop listing now.”

“You talk about her when you think no one’s listening.”

Andrew groaned again and let his head fall into his hands. “I’m going to die.”

Simon laughed, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Not if you ask her first.”

There was a pause.

Then Andrew said, “Okay.”

Simon blinked. “Wait, really?”

Andrew sat up straighter. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Simon grinned, immediately rising to his feet. “Good. Let’s make a plan.”

“A plan?”

“You don’t want to just stand there and blurt it out like a startled goat, do you?”

“…No?”

“Exactly. We need a location, a time, a mood. You want this to be a moment. Something she’ll remember.”

Andrew looked both skeptical and intrigued. “Since when do you know anything about romance?”

Simon shrugged. “I’ve been married a while. And I know you, which helps. You need a place where you can be comfortable—somewhere quiet, somewhere you’re not going to trip over your own feet or start apologizing mid-sentence.”

Andrew looked toward the trees. “The olive grove.”

Simon followed his gaze, then nodded. “That’s a good one.”

“There’s that clearing past the slope,” Andrew added. “You can see the sea from there.”

Simon crossed his arms and gave a small nod of approval. “Not bad, little brother. Now you just have to ask her.”

Andrew swallowed hard. “Right. Just.”

Simon leaned closer. “Tomorrow. Don’t wait. Otherwise you’ll talk yourself out of it again.”

Andrew didn’t answer.

“Andrew.”

“…Tomorrow.”

Simon grinned and clapped him on the back again. “You’ve got this.”

But long after Simon had wandered back toward the house, Andrew stayed there, staring toward the olive grove, heart pounding like he was already standing in front of you.

He saw you before you saw him.

You were at the market, crouched near a row of figs, gently turning each one over like you were choosing between worlds. Your shawl had slipped slightly, the sun catching in your hair, and Andrew had to physically stop himself from just… standing there like an idiot.

Now, he told himself. Do it now.

He inhaled slowly and took a few steps forward.

Then paused. Turned back. Muttered something to himself. Turned forward again.

A woman beside you stood up and left, leaving space in the narrow row of stalls. Andrew took that as a sign from heaven and walked forward before he could hesitate again.

You looked up as he approached. A warm smile flickered across your face.

“Andrew.”

His name in your voice made his stomach flip.

“Hi,” he said. Too loud. He cleared his throat. “I—um. Hi.”

You tilted your head, amused. “Hi again?”

He gave a breath of a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I, uh, had something I wanted to ask you.”

Your brow lifted slightly, but not in a mocking way—just curious, open.

“I was wondering,” he began, eyes fixed on the row of figs, “if you’d want to… maybe… take a walk sometime. Together. With me.”

You blinked once. “A walk?”

He nodded, still not looking at you. “Not just a walk. I mean, it would be a walk, but also… talking. Food, maybe. Time spent. With me.”

When he finally looked up, your eyes were shining, and you were clearly trying not to smile too wide.

“Are you asking me to spend time with you because you like me?” you asked gently.

Andrew nearly groaned. “That sounds so simple when you say it like that.”

Your smile turned into a soft laugh. “It’s a simple thing.”

He nodded once, awkward and earnest. “Then yes. That’s what I’m asking.”

You set down the fig you were holding and dusted your palms on your skirt. “I’d like that.”

Andrew’s breath left him all at once. “You would?”

You laughed again. “Andrew, yes.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Tomorrow evening? There’s a clearing in the olive grove—you can see the sea from it.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’ll bring something,” he added quickly. “To eat. Or drink. Or… I don’t know, a rock you can sit on.”

You grinned. “You don’t have to bring a rock. I’m sure there are plenty there already.”

He chuckled—finally relaxing a little. “Right. Yes. No rocks.”

You gave him one last look before turning back to the stall. “I’ll see you then.”

And with that, you slipped back into your shopping, just as calmly as if you hadn’t just turned his entire ribcage into a song.

Andrew stood there for another moment, blinking like he’d just woken from a dream.

Then he whispered to himself, “She said yes.”

And ran straight into a basket of lentils on his way out of the market.

Simon was about to take a bite of his bread when Andrew burst through the door.

“Help.”

Eden, who had been slicing dates at the table, raised a brow without looking up. Simon just sighed.

“What now?” he asked, still chewing.

“She said yes.”

Simon stared. “Wait—she said yes?”

Andrew nodded rapidly, pacing in a tight circle.

Eden looked up now. “To what?”

“To me. To the date. To walking. To talking.”

Simon grinned. “You asked her.”

“I did. And now she’s going to show up in a few hours and I can’t go looking like a sunburned goat.”

Eden exchanged a look with her husband. “He’s spiraling.”

“He always spirals,” Simon said, mouth full.

Andrew stopped in front of them, eyes wide. “What do I wear?”

Simon looked at his tunic. “You’re wearing it.”

“No, I mean—what if it’s dusty? What if I spill something on myself? Should I wear something with a different… collar situation?”

“Is that a thing?” Eden whispered.

Andrew didn’t notice. He had already started pacing again. “What if I forget how to talk? What if she thinks I’m boring? What if she only said yes because she felt bad?”

Simon held up a hand. “Alright. Sit.”

“I can’t sit.”

“Sit.”

Andrew sat.

Eden brought him a cup of water. “Drink.”

He drank.

Simon leaned forward and pointed at him. “Now breathe.”

Andrew took in a slow, shuddering breath.

“You’re going on a walk. With someone you like. Someone who said yes. That’s not terrifying. That’s… good.”

Andrew didn’t look convinced. “It’s still a big moment.”

“It is,” Eden said gently. “But she already said yes to you. Not to some polished version you’re trying to become before sundown.”

That seemed to hit him somewhere deep.

“Just be Andrew,” she added.

Simon leaned in, voice mock-serious. “Well. Maybe a slightly less sweaty version.”

Andrew shoved him lightly, finally smiling. “Thanks.”

Simon shrugged. “That’s what brothers are for. Now go wash your face. And pick one tunic. Not five.”

Andrew stood and took a step toward the door, then paused. “One more thing—what if she’s expecting more than a walk? What if she’s expecting something romantic?”

Eden’s eyes twinkled. “Then it will be.”

Simon groaned. “Okay, get out before you both start writing poetry.”

Andrew laughed under his breath and left the house, pulling the door closed behind him. But his smile lingered even as the nerves tangled tighter.

The olive grove was waiting.

And so were you.

The grove was quiet when you arrived—just the soft hum of evening and the faint rustle of wind through the trees. The sun was beginning its slow descent, bleeding golden light between the branches, stretching long shadows over the grass.

Andrew was already there.

He was standing near the edge of the clearing, hands awkwardly clasped in front of him, eyes scanning the sea like it might hold a map to calm his nerves.

You almost didn’t want to speak. You wanted to watch him a little longer—see the way the wind tugged gently at the edges of his tunic, the way the quiet wrapped around him without pressing too close. But he turned before you could say anything, and his whole face lit up when he saw you.

“You came,” he said, as if he hadn’t been replaying that sentence in his head since morning.

You smiled. “I said I would.”

“I know. I just…” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m glad.”

You stepped closer. “Is this the part where you offer me a rock to sit on?”

His face flushed, but he laughed. “No, but there is a good one just over here.”

He led you to a flat, sun-warmed stone under a gnarled olive tree. The view stretched out before you—sea, sky, and the horizon painted in soft watercolors.

Andrew produced a small cloth-wrapped bundle from behind his back, setting it down between you with a bashful smile.

“I brought food,” he said. “It’s not fancy. Mostly dates. A little bread. Cheese.”

“Perfect,” you said, meaning it.

You sat beside him, knees just barely brushing, and for a moment neither of you spoke. The quiet between you wasn’t awkward—it felt full, like it was carrying all the things you hadn’t yet said.

Then Andrew turned slightly, facing you.

“I don’t do this,” he said.

You looked over. “Do what?”

“This. Ask someone. Plan something. Worry about whether I have dirt on my sandals or if my hair looks like I lost a fight with a bird.”

You smiled, trying not to laugh. “Your hair looks fine.”

He glanced up like he didn’t believe you. “Really?”

“Really.”

He let out a breath and relaxed a little. “I just… I didn’t want to pretend. I didn’t want to try and act like I’m someone I’m not.”

You turned to face him fully now, voice soft. “I don’t want someone pretending. I said yes because it was you.”

His eyes locked on yours.

Just that.

Like the whole world had narrowed to the few inches between you.

You looked away before it could get too heavy, pulling a fig from the bundle and holding it between your fingers. “So,” you said, with a teasing smile. “Did Simon help you plan all this?”

Andrew groaned, laughing. “He tried. Eden was more helpful.”

“I figured. The quiet grace of the evening didn’t quite feel like your brother’s doing.”

He gave a crooked grin. “You’d be surprised how much he wanted to be involved.”

You both laughed, and the tension broke into something lighter—easier. The conversation drifted to memories of childhood, stories that made you both laugh, small fears, quiet hopes.

You didn’t even realize how much time had passed until the sun dipped low enough to paint the grove in gold and lavender.

Andrew looked out toward the sea, then back at you.

“Thank you,” he said. “For saying yes.”

You turned to him, heart unexpectedly full. “Thank you for asking.”

The moment hovered again, fragile and real, and neither of you needed to speak to know it mattered.

It was the kind of silence that meant something.

The walk back to your home was quiet.

Not from awkwardness—but from that strange kind of peace that settles in after something real has been shared. You walked beside Andrew without needing to fill the silence, your hands brushing once, maybe twice. He didn’t pull away.

The stars were beginning to show themselves, one by one, and the cool air carried the soft scent of earth and olive wood.

He glanced at you a few times along the way—like he couldn’t help it. Like he still didn’t quite believe this had happened.

When your home finally came into view, Andrew slowed a little. Not dragging his feet—but not rushing either.

You turned to him before stepping inside. “So… now what?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… what happens now?”

He scratched the back of his head. “I hadn’t planned that far.”

You laughed softly. “That makes two of us.”

A beat passed, then he smiled—warmer now. “Can I see you again?”

You tilted your head. “Wasn’t sure if you’d want to after that wild walk and outrageous fig spread.”

He gave a quiet laugh. “It was perfect.”

You reached for the door, pausing once more before you disappeared behind it. “Then yes. I’d like to see you again, too.”

And with that, you were gone.

Andrew stood there for a moment longer, grinning like a fool at your door, before turning back toward home.

Simon was on the roof.

Andrew found him there, lying flat with one arm over his eyes like he’d been waiting to be asked for advice again.

“I lived through it,” Andrew said, dropping down beside him.

Simon peeked through one eye. “She say something kind before walking away and leaving you in emotional shambles?”

Andrew laughed. “She wants to see me again.”

Simon sat up so fast he nearly fell over. “She does?”

Andrew nodded, trying—and failing—not to smile too much. “She does.”

Simon clapped him on the back. “So… you actually did it. You didn’t freeze. You didn’t run.”

“I panicked at your house first. Then I got it together.”

“Classic.”

Andrew leaned back on his elbows, looking up at the stars. “It was just… easy. Being with her. I thought it’d be hard—like I’d have to figure out the right words, or worry about how I was sitting, or whether I said something weird. But it wasn’t like that.”

Simon watched him for a moment.

“You’re in trouble,” he said.

Andrew frowned. “Why?”

“Because you already look like you’d walk to the ends of the earth if she asked.”

Andrew smiled faintly. “Maybe I would.”

Simon chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I hope she’s worth the trouble.”

Andrew leaned back completely and folded his hands behind his head, the sky opening above him like the biggest answer he’d ever been given.

“She is.”

#the chosen fanfiction #the chosen x reader #andrew x reader

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aeoki · 1 year ago

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SS Finals - Crown: Chapter 23

Location: Outside ES Dome Characters: Hiyori & Nagisa

Nagisa: …One of your subordinates should be in that car you prepared, correct?

…You’ll kidnap and dispose of me, the mastermind assumed to be behind everything, in secret.

…After that, you’ll transform into the “Support Idol”, “Lucifer”, and step in for me.

“Priest”: ………..

Nagisa: …You’re the mysterious “Support Idol”, “Lucifer”.

��”Lucifer” is a fallen angel and in Latin, it refers to the “morning star” – in Japanese, that would be “akehoshi”.

…Judging by that name, I assume you would have pretended to be Subaru-kun’s father, “That Akehoshi” – the biggest stain of the idol industry – on stage.

…You’ll pretend you’d been captured by Father or I all this time, like a tragic hero in an attempt to fully become “That Akehoshi”.

…You could even insist that you’ve changed because of the horrible treatment you’ve received. Perhaps you even planned to hold Subaru-kun tight, crying and letting tears fall from your eyes.

…With that, people will sympathise with you and it would have been the best performance befitting Subaru-kun's father.

…You would have immediately found the letter I had left behind, followed what was written within it and would have completely taken my place.

…With your emotional story, you would be accepted as a member of “Eden” with a resounding round of applause.

…There isn’t much time until the new year. The “SS” Finals will continue with the problems pushed to the backside.

…You’ll stand on stage in my place as the “General Leader”. And you’ll gain the highest possible recognition while being blessed by everyone around you.

…By doing that, “Eden” would – no, you would be applauded as the “best idol in the country”.

…You’d stand at the top of the idol industry.

…That was your plan, right, “Priest”?

“Priest”: …………

Nagisa: …I’m sure you would have come up with a few more schemes, but you chose the one where you kidnapped me.

…It was your first time framing someone for a crime, so you were worried if you could pull it off.

…But I, too, was part of “fine”. I was once a member of a group of outstanding people who attained victory after victory.

…That experience made me stronger. You should rejoice – there are things one can gain from tragedy.

“Priest”: ………!

Nagisa: ...Oh, you’ll run away. In that car.

…You’ll run and run, transforming into someone else.

…I’m sure you’ll commit even more crimes in the future.

…Then, even though I’m just a human and nowhere near God, I’ll pretend to be God to judge you and the sinful crimes you’ve committed.

…You have no place in heaven with that corrupted soul.

…Burn in the raging fires of hell for eternity.

“Priest”: ……! ……!?

Nagisa: …Hehe. That car is indeed something you prepared.

…But inside is one of “Gatekeeper’s” private guards.

“Priest”: ………!?

Nagisa: …I don’t blame you for not noticing. He and I teamed up behind the scenes.

…There was a message from “Gatekeeper” apart from the diary and documents in the temple I was holed up in.

…Ibara probably wouldn’t have believed it, but I did.

…I placed my faith in him and took his hand. We decided to work together to hunt you down.

…You transform into others and lurk in the darkness, so it was difficult to find you.

…But you were caught in our trap and will meet your end right here.

…Our interests overlapped on that point.

…You were a common “enemy” we both despised.

…So we’ll crush you. You’re our “enemy” – an evil in our eyes.

…You won’t say that’s cruel, right?

…You were the one who brought forth these negative emotions, such as hatred, within me and made me human.

…Humans will devote their body and soul to crushing the enemy they detest.

“Priest”: –––––––

Nagisa: …Farewell, “Priest”. Our “enemy”. The ghost of the past.

…At the very least, I’ll pray for your happiness in the next world.

…Shadows should return to being shadows. They should return to oblivion where they cannot be perceived.

…………

Hiyori: Nagisa-kuuun!

Nagisa: …Hiyori-kun.

Hiyori: What was that about? A car just sped out of here!

Nagisa: …Who knows.

…In any case, what are you doing here? Weren’t you looking after Touri-kun with Jun and Ibara?

…That’s what I asked you to do, right?

Hiyori: Yup! I’m happy to do whatever you ask me, but it couldn’t have been helped, right? After all, I’m the one who worries about you the most!

Jun-kun was acting strange so when I asked him about it, he told me that you look like you might do something reckless!

I couldn’t have sat there twiddling my thumbs if that’s true!

I decided I won’t ever leave you alone, after all!

Nagisa: …Oh. I borrowed a little something from Jun.

Hiyori: Why Jun-kun? You should rely on me more!

I want to do everything that I can for you! I even did something I don’t usually do and ran around looking for you everywhere, breaking a sweat!

Nagisa: …There was nothing you could have done, Hiyori-kun. This time, anyway.

…You’re someone who belongs in the light, after all.

Hiyori: What are you talking about? I don’t understand you! Be sure to explain it properly to me!

Nagisa: …I will. Later.

…Anyway, the “SS” Finals are still going on, so let’s return.

…And work as idols. Let’s sing and dance with everything we have to make everyone happy.

…In order to live as a person in this world.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#ss finals

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guiderichess · 8 months ago

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taylorbuggtaylortot · 2 years ago

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Coming out of a dark place

Thought I’d lost everything

But I still had the hope for a new beginning

Meeting you through the black and the blue

I was thinking it’s fate cause I’d found something true

You’d have me if I’d have you

And I found myself pushing through and through

For you

Stuck in a shitty motel just sifting through hell

Spending my days missing you

Then you’d call on the phone

Suddenly im at home

Didn’t know what this would come to

I have demons

You don’t want to meet them

And I try my best to not introduce you

You have your feeling and i know you have a good reason but I still I would’ve never been the one to leave you

Thought was we had was for real

Ride or die cause I’d feel that you’d always be the one to understand

I was your girl cause you were my man

When the world was dark

You gave me a hand

So I opened up

Though it was impossible to trust

But I knew I had to give you something to work with

I know both of us have a dark place we never want to visit again

But I never intended to allow that to happen

But now you’re gone just like everyone

I guess everyone leaves in the end

Lost and alone

No where to go

Surrounded by my demons in this hell of a world

You came along

Gave me a home

Showed me love I’d never known

So how could you walk away like I never meant a thing

I know the sadness and the pain

I would’ve never done a thing to put you there again

But I can’t make you talk or listen

I knew that it wasn’t easy to take on all my grieving

I don’t blame you for leaving

You could only hold me so tight before drowning yourself and I feel responsible for creating your hell

Just know that I loved you and you made it easy

Still I never saw you leaving but it’s not you’re job to save me

Best believe I thought you could

I played our future out

I wrote a book

I saw you with me

Happy and travelling

Dancing to music just how you said we could be

I supported your dreams

You pushed me to mine

In all this depression, I held on too tight

You were just what I needed but I was sucking you dry

I felt your need to leave me behind

I washed my hands of you to let you go

But this sadness starts to feel like home

I will miss you but I’m used to being alone

I didn’t mean to take you down

Maybe it’s better that im gone

I’ve been falling down the rabbit hole

I Cannot tell which way to go

Oh no

He had both my heart and soul

I never wanted to let go

Of him

I’m Taking strides and taking steps

Controlling my own happiness

Just to find me losing it again

I’m paving my way to success

Or paying for it every chance I get

Maybe that’s my own bitterness

Everything will be okay

That’s what they all say

I’m remembering

If it’s the end then it’s not over yet

I’m trying to pretend

Cause it’s all in my head

I’m not giving up just yet

Cause it’s not the end just yet

So everything will be okay

There’s so much I’ve been dying to tell you

Though I never could find the words

I wanted to let you how I feel

Or how much it hurts

I never knew your ears were open

And I had so much to say

But I took all my jumbled thoughts and stashed them all away

I know that I’ve been gone

I guess I needed time

To figure out myself

And figure out my life

It’s crazy how I spent all this time so worried about myself

But still somehow avoided every single thing I felt

I’m sorry for the anger you saw inside of me

I never had a soul who would hold me when I’d bleed

That’s all I’ve ever needed in order to open up but i can’t give out my heart to something based on lust

You’ll never leave my mind

Still I try to forget

But all the while I’m learning life

I see you in each step

It’s funny how you’re gone just never hard to find

I’ve been trapped in so much darkness

I’m just learning how to shine

I hope you know I’m never gone and I’m just a call away

It’s just right now I don’t have too much I can say

I’m working on fixing a mess thats been too long ignored

Cause I’ve been spending too much time tending others sores

I’ve been alone for so long that I forget how to act

I just felt that no one cared so I got used to that

I can’t blame my past for being the way that I’ve been

I’m not here to make excuses but if you wanted to know why then

I think I figured out most of that

And it makes me want to cry

The person I’ve been

Deluded by life diluted in sin

I know I’ve got some issues and skeletons to match

But all I’ve wanted was a family and I wanted it to last

Getting close to me is not for the faint of heart

Cause if you see an end then I don’t want to start

Im trying to heal in that sense and worry more about the journey

I find my peace by asking god if these people are for me

Through that I’ve learned to understand the way that you are

And that maybe you saw me more than I first had thought

I’m sorry for never being myself when I’d see you

I had forgot who she was and realized that I need to

But now we don’t talk cause you’ve made me a stranger

In silence I started to understand my anger

Conveying my emotions just creates anxiety

most times I forget that I’m better with writing

I like that it helps me speak from my heart

Because vulnerability is a good place to start

You’re not responsible for the life that I’ve had

And I’m sorry if you felt the weight of that

We’ve both made mistakes and we’re fixing them now

But I’ve said too much so I don’t know how

-tf

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theepisceswriter · 4 years ago

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Taking you to pound town (Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Toji)

Synopsis: Need I say more? How the men of JJK get when the sex between you two really heat up and how their style of thrusting is. I suck at descriptions, but we been knew this 🥴

TW: mature things obviously, typos probably because I didn’t proofread, GN!reader, a whole lot of roughness with Toji, tiny mention of a belly bulge with Toji, 18+, MINORS DNI

NANAMI

Sex with Nanami is nowhere near vanilla at all. You two like to experiment around a lot, especially with new toys and gadgets, and you can’t tell me that Nanami isn’t into bondage at all. It might not be extreme, but he’s definitely left you mobility restricted a couple of times. The main action of intercourses between you two is never too rough, though. Nanami is the type who likes to take his time with you, gentle thrusts and long movements of his hips that let you feel every throbbing inch of his cock as he slips in and out of you at a pace that’s just right. It’s makes the two of you go crazy, you both love your default pace for sex. But on days when he comes home from work or Jujutsu high stresses? Oh boy. When you hear his glasses hit the dresser and see his tie already in his hands wrapped around them and the top buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned? You and your poor hole are really in for it. He’s not rough at all when he’s manhandling you because the last thing he wants to do is accidentally take his anger out on you physically (on accident guys, not purposefully) and leave you with bruising. But what he does do is transfer that anger into energy and goes to work on your poor little hole that’s absolutely going to be sore by the end of this. Grunts and the loud sound of skin slapping against skin are the only things that can be heard along with mumbles under his breath about how terrible his day was. He grabs onto your hips and pushes them up at an angle that makes this pounding just as pleasurable for you as it is for you; his hands moving at such a fast speed from his thrusting that you don’t even have to move at all, he’s doing all the work for you. Needless to say, you won’t be able to walk straight for a couple of days. Lucky for you because Nanami just happens to be a master at aftercare.

GETO

Geto isn’t really languid with his thrusts. There’s no rolling of his body or hips like that, but not in a bad way! The length of his dick and the slight curve of it alone is enough to hit those spots inside of you and have your toes curling so he really doesn’t have to do all too much. He prefers to have you on your back so he’s able to see the expressions on your face and the way your eyes roll when he slides himself into you completely. I don’t see him having a big breeding kink, but the mating press is definitely his favorite position to be in with you because it allows him to be inside you so deep and all he has to do is fold your legs up more if he wants to get any deeper. Which he does all the time; have you to where your ankles are at your ears and his chest and body weight are directly on top of you as he thrusts into you; quick snaps of his hips up against you in intervals of two seconds. You’re stuffed and full of him the entire time in such a close proximity that when he decides to tease you by pulling all the way out until he can see his tip, you can’t help but whine at the loss of contact. Squirming underneath him begging for him to resume his position, but he doesn’t do it until he feels like it. Which can be minutes at a time, but finally he takes pity on you. That signature smirk on his face as he looks down at you, “You want my cock that bad? Hm? Fine, I’ll give it to you. It’s all yours baby.”

GOJO

The stamina this man has is incredible and he doesn’t care if you don’t have superhuman abilities like him, he’s going all in and you’re just going to have to deal with it! Everything is just so fast paced, but he has enough stamina and can last for a while so he’s able to do that. Plus, the feeling of his thick long cock ramming into you doesn’t match up to anyone else you’ve been with, it is truly an out of world of experience. He doesn’t show you any mercy either. You can have tears forming in your eyes and staining your cheeks and he still wouldn’t stop. Instead, thrusting into you deeper while he whispers a few reassuring, “It’s okay baby. You take me well. Like my cock was made just for you, you’ll be okay.” While wiping at your tears from overstimulation. Positions where you’re on top of him are his favorite because it gives you this false sense of being in control when really, even when he’s on the bottom, he’s still the one in charge and controls the pace you take him at and all. Plus, he likes to surprise you with his special move out of the blue when you’re on top. When he notices that you’re close to release he’ll lock his hands around your hips to balance himself and give himself something to hold on to while he begins to thrust up into you at a pace that exceeds beyond pounding. It’s like his dick and hips are moving at a speed that’s even faster than the speed of light. You’re a mumbling incoherent mess on top of him as he brings you to an explosive orgasm, but that still doesn’t stop him. He’s giving you two orgasms minimum with his special attack and he’ll even pull it out more than once if he wants to. By the time he’s done with you, you won’t be able to move because you’re so worn out.

TOJI

Every session with Toji is a trip to pound town and he’s so mean and ruthless too, but it’s Toji what did you expect? I’m talking taking you in doggy style with your back arched as far as it can go because he has his foot on top of it weighing down heavily on your poor back to hold you in place while he rams into like a mad man. At one point his foot even moves from your back to your head, a lot less pressure than your back but enough to have your face smashed down into the fabric or material of whatever he has you against, him laughing maniacally at you from above because of how silly you look with your cheeks smushed and lips pressed together like that. “So desperate like a bitch in heat that you’d let me do this to you? Step all over you like this? You love every minute of it, the way you clench around me gives it away. I want to hear you say it; say that you like when I pound into you and step on you like this.” Wheeeew! He’s tearing your insides and poor hole up, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were able to see a tiny bulge in your stomach every time he thrusted so ruthlessly into you. And when he doesn’t have you in doggy style? He has you pressed up against the wall with your legs in his hands, holding them up while he pounds into you because if he didn’t your legs would’ve been gave out on you and made you fall on the floor. Not saying that Toji Fushiguro leaves your legs trembling, but Toji Fushiguro leaves your legs trembling.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen smut #jjk smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut

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e-m-p-error · 2 years ago

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Hello, Goodbye, It Was Nice To Know You

Ostello's death fic. Put under a cut for length.

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, M/M, AU - Canon Divergent, Intersex Valentino, Briefly Mentioned Smut, Murder, Death, Angels & Demons, Blood, Cheating Mention, Weapon, Blade, OC: Ostello, Overlord OC

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“Hey, Baby!” Ostello's voice was as rich and filled with love as it always was as he closed the front door to their penthouse behind him. Just like he did every day, he strolled in the door precisely fifteen minutes after seven. Just like he did every day, he made a beeline for his wife, finding Valentino in one of his usual haunts in the house. Pulling him into the same giddy kiss he'd been given every day for the last eight years, Ostello twirled the taller Sinner as per usual.

“Mmm, good evening,” Valentino's worn-out reply was tight, clipped in a way that showed his agitation. He was tired. Tired of routine, tired of feeling stagnant, tired of Ostello and the monotony of their marriage.

If only he had found out about his husband's biggest, best-kept secret. It just might have saved his life.

“How was your day, Beautiful?” The badger asked as he dipped his lover in his arms for another kiss. It was with all of the barely-there restraint Valentino scraped off of the bottom of his skull that he didn't let his eyes roll out of his head.

“You know how it is,” The same shit on a different day.

He was so... Tired.

“Can I make it any better?”

No.

“What did you have in mind, Hot Shot?”

“I think we could both use a little TLC.” Ostello's promise stood stories above the actual act he was initiating, and Valentino knew this routine well. Ostello would kiss him to his back on the bed and they would rock and grunt for a few minutes. It would be tender in a way that turned his stomach, gentle in ways he didn't want. Everything about it would make him pray for someone else to show up, for a different partner to liven up his life. He would wait for tomorrow with bated breath, for his devoted but lackluster husband to leave so he could invite someone to bed that knew what they were doing.

As expected, he spent the next half hour on his back, only managing an orgasm by sheer power of will. The badger worked himself up until he finally came deep inside his lover, whose hand on his own cock was the only thing helping him maintain his erection. A few more pumps and he was spent, but not so much sated. His libido was an ancient and terrible curse, and one man with one position had never and would never mean more than a drop in a bathtub of his unbridled lust.

Valentino got up when Ostello lay panting beside him, filled with his warm fuzzies and seemingly having no idea of his wife's utter and complete boredom. Valentino wrapped himself in his silky red robe trimmed in feathers, slid his feet into his fuzzy, three-inch heeled house slippers, and went to the bathroom. As he did every night, he took in the dissatisfied expression he fed himself in the mirror with disdain.

Sinners could only be killed by a holy weapon, but Ostello and his damned routine were worse than a second death.

Truthfully, Valentino didn't hate the man. He was afforded a glamorous existence, he was married to a successful musician, and he had countless love songs written for him that had topped charts one on top of the other. Valentino couldn't have been more famous in Hell if he'd tried!

But he didn't want to live in the shadow of a man that couldn't satisfy him. If he had to eke out a meager existence, then he would do so on his own terms. Living in infamy would be better than slaving himself to this monotony.

As he plucked his false eyelashes from his eyelids, he knew what he was going to do. There was no questioning it, no talking himself down from it, now. Tonight was the night.

Tonight, it was finally time to reap what he'd sown eight years ago by marrying this idiot. It had never been about love for Valentino. His marriage to Ostello had been one of convenience, one that served a grander purpose in his escalation to the top. It was little more than a hesitant step in the right direction. When it came right down to it, he didn't know why he'd put up with this for so damn long. All he could think about these days was what lay ahead of him when Ostello was dead and buried.

The same couldn't be said for Ostello. He had become instantly infatuated with Valentino upon meeting him. Like a man possessed, he sought the moth's attention, his happiness, and finally his hand in marriage. Valentino's acceptance had been the highlight of his entire existence, both alive and dead.

There would never be anything else that would top that moment for him. Nothing except waking up every morning to see his beautiful wife lying in bed with him, lips slightly parted in his sleep. Seeing him light up for his many, many expensive gifts, or watching the light in his eyes when he was given another public serenading.

Most of the Pride ring, Valentino thought, must be as tired of it as he was. Ostello was a man filled with passion, but his passions vented in ways Valentino didn't see himself entertaining for the rest of his afterlife. He couldn't do it anymore. There was nothing left for Ostello.

Tonight was the night.

Tonight, he'd be free.

His whole world would begin to come together in one fell swoop of the holy spearhead he'd smuggled out of his husband's weapons dealing hoard. Usually, Ostello kept the angelic weaponry under lock and key, but if anyone could gain access to these things, it was Valentino. He could do no wrong in the eyes of his thoroughly bewitched husband, and he would continue to do no wrong until he had ascended the stairway to Godhood.

Ostello was always a sleepy thing once they were finished. He had a habit of taking a short nap after he came, which usually gave Valentino time to shower. While the thought of doing it while the badger slept peacefully in their marital bed was one that glanced off of his brain, he decided against it quickly. He wanted to see the betrayed look, the sheer terror in Ostello's eyes as the one he loved plunged a blade deep into his chest. All he wanted, now, was a good chance to catch the badger off-guard.

It wouldn't be hard when he woke up, lazy and slow in the evening light from the pentagram shining through the window. He wouldn't be surprised to find Ostello admiring it from where he lay. The man could wax poetic about anything at all at the drop of a hat, and Valentino didn't doubt that he'd find something to say about it that he'd said a million times before. Ostello was a creature of habit.

Aside from his vices, Valentino hated settling into a habit. He wanted excitement, panache, passion, and a desperate yearning for new things, experiences, people, and places. This marriage had been doomed from the start, and every boring, bedroom lovemaking session was another nail in the badger's coffin.

Valentino left the bathroom after he had cleaned himself up, strutting in his robe and heels to where he'd stashed his weapon. He'd been planning this for some weeks now, and the time had finally come. Tonight was the culmination of his boredom with his routine, and tomorrow would come the spoils of his war with monotony.

When Ostello woke, dazed and still reeling from the sensation of getting to be with his wife, Valentino lay out on the bed beside him. The lingerie he wore was white and insanely detailed with embroidery and stitching that made him look like royalty. There was a tuille half-skirt around his hips, and down his thighs stretched a pair of black fishnets.

“You look beautiful, Pidge.” The badger purred, his smile tender and his gaze soft, “Any special occasion?”

“Yeah, actually.” Valentino nodded, slowly sliding up onto Ostello's hips and leaning down to kiss him. His upper left hand slipped beneath the pillow and he grabbed the weapon, wrapping his fingers tightly around what he would call the hilt. The staff was missing, leaving behind only the metal that held it together, but that was fine. He could handle holding it as long as he didn't cut himself.

“What's the—” Ostello didn't get to finish his sentence. Another kiss distracted him, and then he was met with the intense burn of something plunged between his ribs on the right side. It jerked in deeper and he gagged on dark, bubbling blood that pooled in his mouth. It dripped down the side of his face, and he gazed up at Valentino with shock and horror in his eyes.

“...didn't h-hafta... End li'this.” He barely managed to cough out the words before a blinding white light filled the room. Valentino hadn't been prepared, squeezing his eyes shut against its influence, hoping not to be too entranced. Bright lights always called to him in ways he couldn't explain, being a moth.

After a moment, he felt Ostello's muscled body drop away from him, and he sat in a pile of ash that had been his now ex-husband just seconds prior.

So, this was what freedom tasted like. He breathed deep, the heavy scent of burned flesh and fur still in the air. Acrid and disgusting as it was, it marked a new chapter in his life.

With Ostello dead and gone, Valentino was finally free to do as he pleased, to do whoever he pleased. This newfound lease on his afterlife was going to be just the thing that he needed to lift himself not only out of the dumps but into high society. The death of an Overlord heralded a new one rising in his place. All would come to fear and respect his name in due time.

After all, there wasn't a more important Sinner in Hell than Valentino. Nobody else compared to his stunning beauty, his deceitful ways, his wicked mind, and his starvation for more. Always, always more. Too much would never be enough. His hunger for everything would never be quenched, like his sexual appetite. In all things, he was a greedy, cruel thing who thought little of the lives, wants, and needs of others.

Now, all he had to do was continue his plan. Arkadious would be his next victim, he'd already decided. After him, Mournique would fall, and then Gerouda, before he hit his magnum opus. Vox, and then Alastor, would fall to his hand just as the rest would, and his hostile takeover of Pentagram City would be complete until he required the next big thing to keep himself entertained.

For now, though, he would rest. Moving on autopilot as he contemplated his new existence, he changed the sheets on the bed himself for once. Humming one of Ostello's songs written just for him, he smoothed out the fresh silken sheets and smiled. Free. He was finally, unequivocally, and happily free. Never again would he fall victim to something so dangerously boring as a routine. He was wild, he was spontaneous, and he was, above all else, free.

#MY WRITING ➽➽➽#HEADCANONS ➽➽➽#I Love You Oh So Madly But I Don’t Stand A Ghost Of A Chance With You (σѕтєℓℓσ)#And If You Get In My Face Then You’ll Get A Taste Even God Would Run Son (ναℓєитιиσ)#You’ll Fall Down A Hole That’s The One Place In This World That We Both Know (Valentino 💔 Ostello)

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e-m-p-error · 1 year ago

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When it really came down to it, Ostello had been a lover. Everything about that man was made of love, a desperate desire to give it, and a desperate desire to soak it up like a sponge. From the second he met Valentino, he'd known that they were meant to be.

The worst part was that Valentino didn't even really dislike the guy. He didn't dislike him even when he killed him. He still didn't dislike him.

"Common--" Growling, he narrowed his eyes, and his hand clenched around the stem of his wine glass. After a beat, he let out a shaky exhale, closing his eyes fully before draining his glass completely. Sighing, he glanced back down at her, quirking a brow.

"And you think that behaving myself and making a concentrated effort to be cordial and not stir up trouble somehow... Doesn't suit me in this context?" For what it was worth, he sounded confused, "I'm smart enough to know when to bare my teeth and when to roll over and play nice. But I appreciate the underestimation, Carmilla, truly."

His smile bared too much of his gums to be genuine.

"Mm, Voxxy's around here somewhere. He said he was going to get us some drinks and he never came back. Probably decided to keep them to himself." Huffing a little, he sighed. Vox had already swindled a glass of champagne from him. He wouldn't be surprised if Vox had decided to just stay at the bar, honestly. They both had wanted to get drunk, "Either that or he ran into Alastor and I'm going to have to run interference."

She had advised Ostello to rethink his pursuit and eventual marriage to the moth. Carmilla was just sorry he did not heed her warnings. Then maybe he'd still be here.

"Hmph," She actually did take him for an idiot. "Glad to see you possess some modicum of common sense then." Even without pupils he did make it obvious he was rolling his eyes.

"Exactly. When it suits you." After taking a sip of her own wine, she exhaled as well. Still, she would be lying if she said she didn't agree with him to some extent. Even she only had so much patience. Velvette demonstrated that very well.

"Where is your colleague anyway? Mingling I assume?" If he was being civil she supposed she should as well.

#And If You Get In My Face Then You’ll Get A Taste Even God Would Run Son (ναℓєитιиσ)#(Valentino and Carmilla - Infernal-Feminae)#You’ll Fall Down A Hole That’s The One Place In This World That We Both Know (Valentino 💔 Ostello)#Blood Ball: Reply #cw alcohol

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miekasa · 4 years ago

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six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex.

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team.

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.”

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #armin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #armin smut #armin fluff #eren x reader

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tsugua-rebmetpes · 4 years ago

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101 Cute dates & bucket list

Little fire pit on the beach (middle of the night, private)

Toasting marshmallows & making cute smores

Observing the night sky through a telescope together / watch the stars on a clear sky in the middle of no where

A midnight dip in water (lake, ocean, etc. As long as it's safe)

Skinny dip under a full moon & to kiss passionately on a platform on the lake

To go on a small camping trip just the two of us

To visit the candy shop and pick each other's candy bags for only us to share them between us anyway

Getting crepes with you and eating them side by side

Taking you lingerie shopping so you can see the outfit as I buy it and the level of excite I know you have knowing you'll get to tear it off later

Sharing a bath with you (where we both fit comfortably or just tucked in a little where we can laugh about it)

Baking cookies so we can have them with our coffee in the morning

Taking you to a coffee roaster hut so you can experience amazing coffee

Going to a little tea house & plantation so we can support local business and enjoy the joys of freshly brewed tea

Picking what the other person must eat off the menu at a new venue / a place we've never been to before

Throwing a dart on a map and going to where ever it lands for a small holiday / trip (could be a city map, regional, state, national or global)

Decorating and making a floating lantern to release into the night sky (a la tangle)

Icing biscuits to look like things we like (e.g. ourselves, frogs or whatever your heart desires)

Smooshing whipped cream onto your nose and kissing/licking it off ♡

Making something together in a pottery class for ourselves n one another

Volunteering at a farm to help around (muster, harvest, etc.)

Go fruit picking together recreationally

Go to as many different distilleries and breweries as we can

Try to make bread together

Have our own Minecraft world together

Complete stardew valley & cattails ♡

Take a cooking/pastry lesson

Take Polaroid photos of our time together (on a trip or small adventure)

Go for a little hike together

Go swim in a little unknown ish water hole and push boundaries of comfort

Go to a cinema late at night (last screening of the evening, maybe wear matching pajamas) and buy popcorn / sneak snacks in. Cuddle in the cinema and watch a cute film together (be one of the only people in the cinema)

Have s/o read my favourite book to me aloud before bed time

Make jam & preserve food items & dry ingredients to make tea, etc.

Make chocolates for you (home made)

Grow my own flowers for us to admire

Start a small veggie patch & harvest our own produce to have a "self sufficient" dinner night

Volunteer at an animal shelter

Go to a farmer's market together / local fruit market and buy ingredients we will make into a meal together that evening

Become animal foster parents & successfully get our lil foster a fur-ever home

Do a hot food challenge or some sort of food challenge together

Go to a day spa for a "couple's retreat"

Make your favourite food (lasagne) on your birthday 🥰 / a random day

Steal a shopping trolly and race around an abandon area of the car park thinking we are in go karts & take photos

Dress up as the cool ghosts in the "blanket ghost" trend and take cute photos in odd locations

Explore an abandoned building together and theorize about the past / research about it

Have a little picnic in a field / park

Take a dance lesson together (ballroom) and be clumsily cute on trying something "new"

Sleep next to you & wake up beside you 🥺

Make your lunch for work & wake up early to make an awesome meal!

Make a random meal really late in the evening spontaneously to satisfy a craving

Have a new years kiss

Look at Christmas lights on houses together

Watch all the Harry Potter movies one after another together

Finish a series that either person is interested more initially in but both like towards the end

Do a cute skincare date! (Face masks)

Go to a food festival and try as much food as we can, get creative - pick the other's meals out to switch it up a little

Go paint balling together and try it out (even if I may not be as good as you. :< I'll try!!)

Try laser tag if paint ball doesn't go so well, feel free to invite friends to both events for more fun :) or go karting (something I've never done before)

Go horse riding together sometime

Cook with a campfire / burring our food in the ground for it to cook (Like damper)

Volunteer to plant trees

Become regulars at a small bar

Play pool/billards together

Check out a timezone arcade and play as much as we can :3 see how many prizes we can win and be merry

Have a board game night (catan, uno, monopoly, dnd etc.) Together with friends or strangers

Visit movie world (theme park) and dress up a little! / usj / Disneyland

Play pinball and we swap between balls to see how far we can go together!!!

Have a little date with the power off (candles, moon lit dinner, board games and no electronics! Be cute and creative)

Donate blood, with moral support or together :3

Go foraging for edible fruits, vegetables, etc. And make a meal out of it :3 research and have fun

Make a little stone tower together and take a photo of the creation (balancing stones)

Plant sunflowers and look after them for a whole season ♡ alternatively pick said flowers when ripe and give them as a gift to love ones

Do a Lego / puzzle set together ♡♡

Capture a little froggy and set him free (clean him up and take him to somewhere safe)

Watch horror films or movies we haven't seen before even if it's silly (.e.g the room )

Visit an aquarium and stare at the little jellies in the jelly room

Go to see a musical, play or ballet together 🥰

Dress up and go on a spontaneous date around town, over dressed for the occasion but having fun

Sunset and nibbles planned date 🥺

Go on a theme crawl, e.g. coffee, tea, wine, pub, cocktail, ramen, etc.

rent bikes to travel around on whilst doing a theme crawl

Dinner theatre or dinner murder mystery event together! Something a little less tame and wacky but still just as fun (something I've never done before)

escape room (challenge ourselves to do it within the time set!)

Ice skate together, trip & fall and catch one another on the ice being cute (maybe rent the kiddy pusher to help you out and be dorks)

Mosh and go to A small band performing concert together / go to A concert for an artist one or both like

Hot air balloon ride ^-^ (waking up early and having our own "Up" moment)

Ride in a helicopter one day to see the world like the birds that fly in the sky

Buy a plant or two at a nursery and take them home to look after

Go roller skating, reliving our teenage years with a limited budget, eat old skool candy and slushies.

Surprise birthday party

Outdoor cinema, watch a film on a projector and have fun on some outdoor cushions

Have a little boho tent and lunch date set up as a surprise

Dance under the moonlight and shining stars together just swaying and holding one another

Overnight at a bed & breakfast together, sleep in and enjoy breakfast in bed whilst away from phones

Have a little bonfire moment at home, write down your deepest desire, secrets, fears and burn them

Take a personality test together just to see the results

Read books in a little book cafe & drink our favourite drinks whilst snuggled up in a book nook

Do a little tarot reading & see a psychic or medium

Raise a pet together

Buy some helium balloons & change our voices whilst doing something (e.g. a speak type board game)

Wake up with you kissing me / wake you up with kisses

Plan a vacation together

#date ideas #dating #relationships #relationship #date night #date nights #ideas #anniversary #gift ideas #bucketlist #love #i love you #first date #anniversary dates #relationship goals #cottage core #light academic aesthetic #cottage academia #dark academia

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farm-witches-fic-recs · 3 years ago

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Oh, don’t mind us, we’re just carving up our pumpkins and spiking the apple cider. We’ve been busy preparing some spooky treats for the little goblins and ghouls around town. Lil’ Rollie’s costume is supposed to be a real showstopper this year from what we’ve heard.

We hope you sit back and enjoy these community recs from our farm witch friends with some of your favorite candies and leave the authors some love!

+ + + + + + + + +

Feels like home (@thegrayness) **RPF** “In this absolutely lovely fic, Dan is a novelist whose research on small towns puts him in close proximity with the charming Noah. Complete with Hallmark vibes and just the right amount of pining, this fic is perfect for anyone looking to get in their holiday feels. It's sweet, fun, and absolutely worth a read (or two)!!”

Fifteen hundred miles (morehuman) “This is the one that started it all for me. The one I stumbled upon after falling down a Schitt’s Creek internet rabbit hole and found myself on AO3. The one that made me fall in love with this concept of taking characters that I had fallen in love with and placing them in different situations and have it work. It showed me there were all these people in the world creating unique, compelling and brilliantly written stories. This is my favorite fic for so many reasons, but mostly because of everything it brought to me. New friends, a renewed love of reading, along with reawakening my own creativity. I know it’s already well-known and well-loved but I felt the need to share how much it means to me.”

Halloween whiskey (@missgeevious) “A fine Halloween fic. I love the way this writer is so concise, creating this little gem with nary a wasted word. A tight 5K that's both sweet and scorching hot. Come for Patrick's "do-over" in the beginning, linger for the intense heat in the middle, and leave with the image of Patrick's adjusted costume firmly planted in your brain.”

Into a million pieces (rosieboo98) “This is one of my go to fics when I am looking to read angst. It brings me to tears every time. But then it gives our boys their happy ending. I really appreciate the fact that once they get their happy ending, the story does not end. Instead, the author gives a few chapters of them building their new relationship after it has been so broken. Highly recommend if you need a good angst with happy endings!”

Language of Love (pandorasdaydream) “If you’ve ever wondered what happened between the episodes, these series are for you. Such attention to detail and explanations for David and Patrick’s thoughts and behaviors. I loved exploring this series.”

The last first kiss - a series of alternate first kisses (poutini/@cheesecurdsgravyandfries) “This piece eighteen alternate “last first kisses” that all take place before the S3:13 grad night kiss we all know and love, hits a bit differently. It’s soft, sweet, funny, and a wonderful bit of evidence that David and Patrick will be together in every universe- sometimes sooner than you’d think. 11/10 would read again and again and again— and you should too!”

Smoke gets in your eyes (@this-will-be-our-year) “This Mad Men (remix) AU is freakin gold!!! Its set in the 60s yet its SO David & Patrick. I cried, laughed, and fell in love with the characters. I'm not even kidding when I say that a fluffy sequel where we see them as "husbands" or a present time fast forward where they marry legally is in my DAILY MANIFESTATIONS. So, so good!”

Stab: The Elmsboro Murders (@dinnfameron) “I am assuming that everyone knows the quintessential October fic “My Heart is Like a Haunted House” by dinnfameron, so I don’t need to tell you to go read that. Right? Okay, well, after that one, check out another seasonally appropriate one by the same author, “Stab: The Elmsboro Murders.” You’ll love this flirty, lighthearted meet-cute based on a slasher movie. Dinnfameron is such a clever wordsmith—weaving together canon lines in unexpected ways, capturing the tone of a detective story, and including plenty of affectionate and true-to-character banter. The point of view alternates, and the parts in journalist David’s head are particularly fun and sweet. So don’t be scared of this little horror fic. It might kill you, but only in the best, most metaphorical ways.”

#friends of farm witches #friends of farm witches fic recs #FOFW Friday Recs #sc fic rec #sc fanfic #schitts creek fic #SC fic #david x patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #sc rpf

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Obedient (Rewritten)

Soft! Yandere! Erasermic x Chubby! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

You must be 18 years old or older to participate in this reading. If you are not, please remove yourself from the line and find another piece. Thank you.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied drugging, kidnapping, reader is way too fucking calm with the situation, Stockholm Syndrome, BDSM themes, a collar, body worship, the word Daddy once, smut, double penetration (diff. holes), anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare.

Word Count: 6.6 k

Author's Note: Alright. I've been wanting to rewrite this for a while now. Obedient was the very first fic I'd ever written and posted back in September, and my writing has changed A LOT since then. Reading the original, I realized there's a lot that I can change and tweak, and a lot that wasn't very clearly or well written (in my opinion). So, here it is!

You can find the original here.

Enjoy~

“Happy birthday to me.” The words tumble loosely from your lips on a heaved breath, your fingers curled lazily around a cold glass of whiskey.

It isn’t a rare occurrence to see you perched atop a stool at the edge of the bar, nursing your third glass at 2am on a Friday night. Or rather Saturday morning. It’s one of the only places you can find solace, away from nosy coworkers and nosier acquaintances. The loneliness is soberingly blissful. You never cared much for social interaction.

At this point the bar is emptying, only a handful of bodies sticking around in the early hours. In the reflections of the rows of glass liquor bottles you see them again. Two lanky figures sitting in the corner booth at the back of the establishment. Any normal person would see them and think nothing. But you know better. When you first walked into the bar six months ago they were in that exact spot, and every time afterward they’d be there when you walked in and stayed after you left.

You, being observant as you are, always watched everything from your spot at the bar, the slightly warped images in the glass serving as your eyes for the night. It didn’t take long for you to figure the two were watching you every time you stepped inside. The blonde one always sat with his back to you, and his head would occasionally turn in the reflection. You’d alternate seats to make sure you weren’t imagining things, but it only confirmed what you’d suspected.

Not that you cared enough to do anything about it.

As long as they keep their distance you’re perfectly content letting them look. And they did keep their distance. They’d never even come within 5 feet of you, seemingly happy with just lingering glances. Of course, tonight would be a different story.

You watch as their glassy reflections stand up, the distance between you and them shrinking with each of their long strides. You let your eyes fall to the amber liquid in your hands, praying they’d only pass you by on their way out. Two sets of footsteps approached, two bodies popped up on either side of you, and a deep, silky smooth voice sounded on your right.

“Mind if we take a seat?” A glance to your right revealed a rugged, yet handsome man peering down at you with his deep, tired onyx eyes. Long raven hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his chiseled jaw peppered with barely tamed scruff and a scar curved along his cheekbone. You turn to look at his friend, long blonde hair pulled up into a high bun and hypnotic green eyes focused on you behind orange tinted sunglasses despite being indoors past midnight. He is handsome as well, a small mustache on his smiling lips, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline drawing you in.

You couldn’t help but feel they look familiar, somehow. You’d seen their faces before, somewhere, but you pushed that to the back of your mind for now.

It wouldn’t hurt to let them sit with you, right? They seem friendly enough, and it’s better to entertain them in case things go south should you reject their request. With a small, tired smile, you nod.

“Sure thing, fellas.” They both plop down on either side of you and the blonde immediately gets talking.

“So what’s the occasion, little listener?” Two thoughts came to mind. One, how did he know there was any occasion, two, what kind of pet name is ‘little listener’? Your confusion must have shown on your face, because the raven haired man spoke up.

“You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar, kitten.” Ah. So they had been watching you. You aren’t wearing anything that would normally be considered ‘dolled up’. Your tan sweater and black skirt are relatively plain, and the platform boots you’re wearing accompanied by your thigh-high socks are something you’re experimenting with.

But usually you entered the bar with a white button-up and black slacks from your job as a waitress. Today you had time to go home and pamper yourself a bit before heading to your usual drinking spot. Evidently, they noticed. You bring your glass up to your lips and gulp down the remaining liquid before entertaining the question.

“Nothing special. Call it a birthday party.” And hey, you mean it when you say it isn’t special. Your birthday only marks yet another routine year on this earth. The blonde nudges your shoulder with his own.

“I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” The alcohol must be affecting you, because you chuckle a bit at his enthusiasm.

“Just another year gone by, you know?” You’re never this talkative sober. The man on your right rapped his knuckles on the bartop, the barkeep making his way over with a tired smile.

“One more glass for this pretty kitty here.” The name had your eyebrows raising.

“This one’s on me.” As the fresh glass was sat on the bartop you scoffed quietly.

“Kitty?” A deep hum came from the man.

“Well how would you describe yourself, kitten?” Somewhere in your muddled brain you warned yourself not to be self-deprecating on your 25th birthday. You didn’t listen.

“Definitely not feline. I’m short and chunky and the only thing cat-like about me is my posture and eyeliner,” you stated, matter-of-factly. As a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant, you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised. A hum comes from the blonde, a muttered ‘pretty and humble’ floating on his breath. You force a chuckle at the statement.

“Pretty is also a word I wouldn’t use to describe myself.” A short silence falls between the three of you, and you take the time to study their faces. Where had you seen them before? You’re certain if you’d met them before you’d remember them, you don’t tend to forget attractive people.

They’re oddly patient as they watch the cogs in your brain turn, your eyes taking in every detail of every feature. Your breath caught and your eyes went wide when you’d finally placed their faces.

“Present Mic and Eraserhead. You’re pro heroes.” The words are quiet, nearly imperceptible as you breathe them, but they’re close enough to hear. Present Mic beams at the recognition.

“In the flesh, sunshine. But we’d prefer you use our names.” Eraserhead leans away and sticks a hand out for a handshake.

“Shouta Aizawa.” You shake his hand and turn to the blonde, who similarly has his hand held out.

“Hizashi Yamada.” You introduce yourself, a bit shaky and only slightly starstruck. What in the world are two pro heroes doing talking to you? As you regain your composure you excuse yourself to the restroom. You weren’t prepared to talk to heroes tonight. A glance in the mirror has you sobering yourself, rationalizing their strange behavior. These two are pro heroes. They were clearly only worried about your safety, a woman all alone in a bar till the earliest hours of the morning. ‘That’s why they were watching me’, you muse. You quickly fix yourself, then step back out to the two heroes.

The three of you pass another hour of time before you decide it’s time for you to head home. They offer to give you a lift, but you politely decline. You can't intrude on them any more than you already had. Hizashi insists otherwise.

“Please Sunshine? If something were to happen to you we’d never forgive ourselves!” It made sense to you. They’re pro heroes after all, it’s in their nature to worry. So you oblige to ease their anxieties.

Since Shouta hadn’t touched any alcohol, he’s driving, and you punch your address into the GPS system of their very expensive looking car. As you sit back, Hizashi holds a bottle over his head.

“Water?” You thank him and drain the bottle, realizing you’re a bit more dehydrated than you initially thought. In your semi-drunk haze you fail to notice that the bottle had already been opened, and you miss Shouta’s eyes watching you down the beverage through the rearview mirror.

It’s only five minutes later you feel drowsy, your head lolling to the side and eyelids drooping. You don’t quite register the question Hizashi asks you, and when you don’t answer he turns around to look at you.

“You seem tired, Sunshine. Take a nap, we’ll wake you up when we get there.” Your exhaustion takes hold over any rational thoughts, and with a sleepy nod, you stretch out over the backseat and let your mind slip into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware you’ll never see your apartment again.

The first thing you notice as you wake up is how stiff and sore your muscles are. It takes you a moment to realize you aren’t in your clothes from last night, nor are you in your own bed. Your eyes snap open and you sit up, taking in the unfamiliar room. With a curse under your breath you scour your memory for anything, checking if you’d gone home with anyone or gotten yourself in a tight situation. The last thing you remember is being driven home by the two pros, then passing out in their backseat.

Questions began forming in your mind. ‘Where am I? How did I get here? Where had the two heroes gone?’ In an attempt to think clearer, you try crossing your legs, but your ankle is stopped short by something heavy. Throwing off the blanket, a thick metal cuff glinted in the light of the room, an equally thick chain leading somewhere over the side of the bed.

When your breathing begins to quicken, you settle your mind, refusing to panic. Willing yourself to relax, you begin to think about how you can get out of this situation. ‘Today should be Saturday. Assuming this room is part of a house, someone would most likely still be here’. With a small breath, you speak, hopefully loud enough for someone to hear you.

“H-hello? Is someone there?” It only takes a few seconds for footsteps to reach your ears, and the door opens to the last person you’re expecting to see. A ruggedly handsome Shouta Aizawa stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a small smirk on his lips.

“Good morning, Kitty.” As endearing as the pet name is, the only emotion you feel right now is confusion. Your mind is drifting to all the fanfiction you’d read online, piecing together the events of last night like a puzzle. ‘The bottle of water was already open’. In your defense, they’re pro heroes, it’s only natural for you-- or anyone, really-- to let your guard down. A large hand on your shoulder jolts you back to reality, your eyes wide as you stare up at Shouta like a deer in headlights.

“You okay Kitten?” All you can manage as you settle your thoughts is to blink up at the man, swallowing down the lump in your throat before letting out a shaky breath.

“Let me guess. I’m home now, aren’t I?” The man stares back down at you with subtly raised eyebrows before chuckling softly.

“That’s not the reaction I was expecting, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you.” He leaves you to your thoughts and your mind begins reeling once again. You understand this is wrong, that you shouldn’t be so willing, so obedient. You also know how boring your life has been up until now. How mundane and lonely you’d been for as long as you can remember.

You’d cut ties with your family long ago, and ‘friend’ is a very loose term. Most of the people you called friends are acquaintances at best, your antisociality and trust issues meant ‘making friends’ is not on your life agenda. Somehow you knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. You longed to give up control, to let someone else string you along and take the reins and let you relax, not have to worry about anything anymore. That side of you tended to make itself known through your explorative late teen years.

You’d had romantic partners before, though once anything intimate came up they all refused to associate with you anymore. They couldn’t understand your want to give up control, your need to submit. They refused to collar you ‘like an animal’. None of your partners ever understood the weight behind such a garment. This may be your chance at the relationship you’d always craved, regardless of its twisted nature.

Then there’s the logical side, the chances of you actually escaping. As a quirkless human in the presence of two trained pro heroes (assuming Hizashi is also in on this), the likelihood of you making it out is slim to nonexistent. If you somehow manage to get out, the two could easily track you down and just as easily drag you back. So, as wrong as it seems, you don’t fight it.

Shouta returns with a tray of breakfast, setting it down on your lap after you’d adjusted yourself to lean against the headboard. As he pulls back you mumble a ‘thank you’ and begin to eat, acknowledging the pang of hunger in your belly. As weird as it seems to say ‘thank you’ to your captor, you find it could be helpful even if only a little. Being polite is automatic, but it’s also a great way to make sure you don’t end up injured, or worse, dead somewhere, so for once in a long time your manners are intended. You’d gotten halfway through your meal when Shouta speaks up.

“You’re taking this really well.” He almost seems skeptical. You peer up at him as you finish the food in your mouth.

“There isn’t much use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out.” You motion to the cuff around your ankle and he gives a small chuckle.

“You’re not wrong, kitten.” He leaves to let you finish breakfast, returning ten minutes later and taking your empty tray. He comes back right after, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold in hand.

“I’m sure you need to use the bathroom.” You give a small nod, acknowledging the pressure in your bladder for the first time since you woke up. Gently, he takes your wrists and locks the cuffs around them, then holds up the blindfold before going to tie it around your head.

“These are just a precaution.” Soon you feel the cuff on your ankle fall away, and Shouta’s strong arms loop under your knees and back as he lifts you off the bed.You’re both surprised and not that he can lift you with relative ease. He is a pro hero after all. It takes less than 30 seconds for him to stop and gently place you down, taking the blindfold and cuffs off.

“I’ll be waiting just outside the door. Once you’re done, knock and I’ll take you back to bed.” You nod and he leaves, locking the door once he’s outside. Of course it locks from the outside. You take a moment to just think about your current predicament. Currently you’re locked in the house of a pro hero, being kept against your will (sort of). Your life had just taken an unexpected turn.

You knock on the door like Shouta said, and it isn’t long before you’re back on the bed with the cuff around your ankle. As he turns to leave you stop him, and he turns back to you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Can I...draw?” You didn’t know if he’d actually let you have anything, but it was worth a shot. If you were to be cooped up here you need to keep yourself occupied. With a low hum, he leaves the room and comes back with a sketch pad, pencil, and eraser.

Days come and go with either of the pros serving you three meals a day. They begin questioning your obedience, especially Hizashi. He questioned your lack of panic and how you never seemed to try to escape. Even he knows this isn’t normal. Shouta seems less skeptical, like he’d expected less of a fight than any normal, sane person would give. When Hizashi asked questions you answered truthfully. Lying is of no use to you.

“Really, I don’t mind it here. So far my life has been pretty shitty and boring, so this turn of events is mildly appreciated. Besides, you treat me relatively well, considering I’m being held captive, so I can’t say I’m upset.” You’d guessed from both your reading and their actions that they truly believed they cared about you. The chances of them hurting you are slim, so you’re able to live with them without fear.

The cuff around your ankle came off about a week in, and Shouta gave you the freedom to roam the house, though it wasn’t without warning. He held his hand out to you, an offer to help you stand, and you took it. Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and shift your weight to your feet. Your legs shake like a newborn fawn, but Shouta held you to let you stretch your legs and get comfortable walking again.

He led you out to what you assume is the dining table and sat you down, Shouta taking the seat on your right. You assume Hizashi is in the kitchen, what with the clatter and smell of food. Shouta asked what you’d been drawing, which caught you a bit off guard, but you answered anyway.

“Koi fish.” He hummed, focused on you.

“Any particular reason why?” You take a moment to think about your answer, it’s not a question you’re used to responding to.

“Well they’re gorgeous creatures. Elegant, sleek and graceful. The way they move is so mesmerizing, smooth and flawless like a flowing creek. I’ve always loved drawing koi.”

The conversation lapses into your fascination with the fish, how they somehow remind you of dragons and how the fantastical creature’s existence isn’t as far-fetched as it’s made out to be. Hizashi joins soon enough, serving dinner and listening in on the conversation.

Once you all finish eating you get comfortable on the couch, nestled between the two men. It isn’t long before you drift off to sleep, their body heat lulling you into dreamland. Shouta carries you to bed, carefully laying you down and pressing a light kiss to your temple. He stands above you, admiring your features as you sleep.

You’re gorgeous to him, a goddess in your own right. He and his blonde counterpart had started watching you mainly because you were a woman, completely alone and seemingly unarmed in a bar until the earliest hours of the morning. Neither of them could tell if you were quirkless or not, and as heroes they made sure to keep an eye on you during their weekly trip to the bar should you get into any trouble.

But eventually it became a habit to look for you, and the more they looked the farther they fell. You looked as exhausted as Shouta every time you stepped through the doors, hair just beginning to lose its style and shoulders sagged. But you were so beautiful, even in your exhausted state. Hizashi was the first to mention his infatuation to Shouta, but the raven-haired man had already figured the blonde was into you.

Soon enough they began to get antsy, constantly watching you walk out the door into the dead of night all alone. You’re just too trusting of the world outside, not taking enough precautions for a woman of your caliber. They made it their mission to make sure you were safe, and one day, take you back home where they could protect you.

Now that you’re here, it’s like a dream. Even as you sleep you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. How your lashes flutter against your cheeks, the way your lips softly part with every breath, how your chest gently rises and falls, it all makes him stare down at you in complete awe. It takes a great deal of willpower for him to tear his eyes away from you and join Hizashi in their room.

***3 months later***

A couple months have passed since you’d...moved in with the two men, and you can’t say you hate it. They’ve respected your privacy, allowing you to stay in your own room and letting you bathe yourself after refusing their attempts at persuading you to join them. Honestly it’s been nice living with them.

Though, the longer you’re with them the more thoughts begin gathering and swirling in your head. Caring thoughts, how their days progress, how they’re feeling at any point in time. And needy, dirty thoughts. Any time those pop up you make it a point to push them deep down into the farthest recesses of your brain, refusing to fuel those pesky embers.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you know what’s happening, what’s been happening. You’re no stranger to Stockholm Syndrome, having done your own minimal research on the subject a few years back. You constantly tell yourself this isn’t normal, nor is it healthy, to enjoy the company of your captors. You have to remind yourself that they had taken you from everything you knew, and even though there wasn’t much for you to love, they’d taken you from that as well.

But soon enough the illogical prevailed, because despite all of that, the two have been nothing but good to you.

In no time at all the days you spend alone in the large house are the days you find yourself missing their company, hoping they’d return sooner. You managed to dig through their clothes and pick out some of their older t-shirts, and began wearing them around the house. Their lingering scents have been a comfort as you patiently wait for them to come back. They don’t seem to mind at all, so you’re content.

As time passes you get closer with them, gravitating toward them and snuggling into either of their sides, letting them wrap an arm around you and tug you into them. You began giving kisses when they left and returned, a small peck on the cheek at the door. The first time you had engaged a kiss was a shock to both of them.

You had tugged Shouta’s sleeve and when he turned you silently grabbed his collar and yanked him down, leaving a small peck on his cheek, doing the same with Hizashi. They barely had the time to react before you dashed to your room and curled under the blankets, face heated and heart pounding like some schoolgirl who had confessed to her crush and got a positive response. That night you’d received more cuddles and kisses than normal.

The kisses became routine, and before long you all slept in the same bed. Strangely enough, life began to feel somewhat normal. The house began to feel like home.

And soon enough that schoolgirl crush manifested into something dirty, something lustful and carnal. Just as much as you long to be around them, you want desperately to feel their hands on your bare skin, mapping out the curves of your body as you writhe beneath them. You crave them and their touch. But of course you still have your pride. Dropping hints would have to suffice.

Slowly, subtly, you dress lighter, more scantily. No shorts under their t-shirts that barely cover your ass, allowing the stretched collars to drop and expose the slightest peek of skin. After a shower you walk back to the room in nothing but a towel, allowing the edge to ride up your thighs. Your tactics seemed to work, their eyes glued to the newly exposed skin, soaking in your plush thighs and soft skin. Their stares make you ache, but after weeks of nothing but lingering glances you decide to toss your pride out the window.

You have dinner ready when they walk in the door, and after everyone had eaten and showered you usher them both to the couch while you sit facing them from the coffee table. Their confusion is evident on their faces, your nervous fidgeting and reluctance to look them in the eyes didn’t help. What you’re about to bring up is embarrassing to say the least, but staying silent would be a detriment to your sanity. With a steadying breath, you meet their gaze and quietly force out your seemingly ridiculous request.

“So… I enjoy being here with you,” your fingers twist into the hem of your shirt and you swallow down the lump in your throat, “and I really appreciate that you’ve given me anything I asked for-”

“No.” Shouta’s voice suddenly cuts off your sentence.

“You can’t go outside, Kitten. I’m sorry, but that’s non-negotiable right now.” You blink dumbly at him, completely thrown off balance by his statement before you catch yourself, waving your hands frantically in front of you.

“No! Oh god, that’s not…um…. I wasn’t asking to go outside. I love being here, with you, and doing whatever but...it’s what we don’t do...that’s bothering me...just a little bit…” By now your voice is so quiet and high-pitched you wonder if they can even hear you. Hizashi, bless his heart, is just as confused as before the conversation started.

“Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. If you think about it, there’s actually a lot we don’t do.” Shouta holds a hand up, silencing the blonde. His dark eyes drag over your body, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly rub together and you can’t meet his gaze. You squirm, the intensity in his eyes something you aren’t used to but it makes you hot all over. His hand comes down on his thigh twice.

“Come here, Kitty.” Slowly, you stand and walk to him, letting his hands grab your hips and pull you down to straddle his lap. A finger curls under your chin, angling your head to look Shouta in the eyes. A small smirk pulls the corner of his mouth, a moment of realization flashing across his face.

“Our little Kitty is getting needy ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right, Kitten?” Heat flooded your face, your embarrassment and arousal sending hot blood to your face and chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hoping they’d do something about the very horny state you’re in. Shouta’s hand moves to your hip again, lifting you and placing you in Hizashi’s lap before standing and walking away.

The blonde cooed at the surprised squeak you let out at the sudden movement, and you open your eyes to his wide grin. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels nice, and you let your body melt into him and his warmth, his long fingers digging into the flesh of your lower back as he tugs you closer and a pleasant haze settles over your mind.

It’s a blissful moment shared between you, and Shouta returns just as Hizashi pulls away from the kiss. They share a look you can’t place before the former raises a hand to gently stroke your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He seems conflicted, trying to mull over some sort of decision in his brain, his brows just barely drawn and jaw set. When his eyes dropped to his other hand, yours followed, to find he held a long thin black velvet box. Clearly it holds some sort of jewelry.

After a few moments he turns it to you and lifts the lid, and your heart damn near stops beating. Whether it’s from excitement or a brief flash of fear, you don’t know. These two have been watching you for much longer than just at the bar. Those few months are only the tip of the iceberg, but how they’d come to notice you would probably forever remain a mystery to you.

Right now, all that matters is that they know everything. From your failed relationships to the reason they’d all ended. They had to know, that’s the only explanation. There’s no possible way it’s pure coincidence that you now gaze down at a beautifully crafted leather collar. It’s simple, thin, black dotted sparsely with sparkling gems and a dainty metal ring centered at the front. Tentatively, you reach out and trace the leather with your fingers.

“Is this...for me?” A deep hum sounds in Shouta’s chest, and that’s answer enough for you. Shouta plucks the garment from its seat and moves behind you. The cool leather feels heavenly as he loops it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. Everything seemed to go quiet as you waited for something, anything, to solidify this moment.

Click.

You shudder out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shouta tilts your head and presses his lips to yours, looping a finger through the collar and giving a gentle tug. It makes you mewl, allowing him space to slip his tongue behind your teeth. He can see your pupils dilate when he pulls away, plush lips slick with saliva, lust invading your mind. You look so needy and desperate for them, so fucking gorgeous.

Hizashi leaves a kiss on your cheek then picks you up and places you on your feet. Both men grab either of your hands, lacing their fingers with yours, and gently pull you with them to the bedroom. Hizashi begins undressing first, and you can only let your eyes drag over his bare upper body for a moment before Shouta grabs your chin and distracts you with another kiss. This one is more passionate, heated, rough as his tongue effortlessly invades and dominates your mouth. Hizashi’s voice permeates your lust-filled haze.

“Come here, baby.” Shouta pulls away and allows you to walk over to where the blonde sits naked on the edge of the bed. He motions for you to turn around and you oblige, then he grabs your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap, your back pressed to his chest. You watch as Shouta undresses, baring his skin to you as Hizashi tasks himself with undressing you.

Your shirt is the first to be removed, a groan spilling from the blonde when he discovers you aren’t wearing a bra. He pulls you flush against his chest, peppering wet kisses down your neck and shoulders as your eyes roam over Shouta’s sculpted frame. The raven haired man makes his way over, kneeling down between your legs and reaching up to toy with your breasts, rough fingers working your nipples until they peak. Hizashi’s hands find their way down to the pouch of your stomach, grabbing at the soft pliant flesh and squishing the fat there.

You let out a low whine, feeling extremely self-conscious with his hands working at the parts of your body you hate the most. You grab at his wrists in an attempt to pull him away, but he hushes you and whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

“It’s okay, pretty baby. Let me feel you.” You will yourself to let him go, let his hands explore your body the way he wants. He keeps his hands on your belly, long fingers massaging into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He’s nipping and kissing at your neck, whispering praises into your ear as he fondles all the fatty parts of you.

Shouta’s hands reach up and tug your panties down, then grip your thighs and pull them apart, exposing you to his hungry eyes. You can’t help but feel exposed, uncomfortable, as they touch and gaze at every part of yourself you had always despised. A whimper builds in your chest, tears beginning to sting your eyes and your breath shaking. Hizashi leans over and kisses your tears away as Shouta leans forward and kisses at your belly and thighs, hands working at whatever flesh he couldn’t get his lips on.

“Let us love you. All of you. You’re such a pretty kitty.” You let yourself relax, let yourself relish in the fact that these two gorgeous men are doting over your body like you’re a goddess, like they couldn’t live if they didn’t worship every one of your perfect imperfections. Though you’re far from comfortable, the initial fear subsides, allowing them full access to you.

“Good girl kitty, good girl.” Shouta whispers as he nips at your thighs, sucking little red marks into your skin. He hooks your legs over Hizashi’s, and the blonde’s fingers dip down to tease your folds, barely breaching your little hole and making you buck for more friction. A soft moan slips from your lips as he pushes two long fingers into your soaked pussy.

You rock your hips into his hand, his palm barely brushing against your clit making you mewl. Shouta focuses his attention on your breasts and belly where Hizashi left bare, kneading and kissing and licking, leaving blooming marks all over your skin. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning impossibly hot. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, grinding his palm down against your clit hard and curling his fingers to hit that spot that has you seeing stars.

When the knot snaps you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking. You throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in intense waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high, legs trembling and toes curling with the continued stimulation.

After your release you relax back down, chest heaving with every breath. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy.

“Are you ready for me kitty?” You look up at him through your lashes and nod fervently, needing him desperately despite the sensitivity. He tugs at your collar gently.

“Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?” Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without any real thought.

“Yes Daddy.” Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath, thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out all at once. The air is punched from your lungs, the stretch around his thick length almost enough to make you cum a second time. Shouta leans down and kisses at the bruises Hizashi had left on your neck, giving you some time to adjust. It only takes a few moments for your walls to stop clamping down on him.

“I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me.” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of you.

Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth, your tongue sliding over them, coating them in your saliva.

He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Your legs quake with the quick building pleasure, your second orgasm creeping up fast. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling your body flush against him and sitting up.

Lithe, cold fingers suddenly dance around your back entrance, toying with your puckered hole. A single finger pushes in and you mewl and squirm at the new sensation. A second finger works its way in, the two digits working to stretch you gently. Soon there’s a third, and when you’re relaxed the fingers are gone and replaced by the thick head of Hizashi’s cock.

“You ready, sweet thing?” You nod and whine, a little weary but ready to be full of the two men. He slowly inches his way inside, shallow thrusts sinking him deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. Both men pepper wet kisses along your shoulders, giving you time to relax, but you don’t need it. You whine, wiggle your hips in an attempt to get them to move, and they oblige.

Their initial pace is slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein as they slip in and out of you. They build up a rhythm, when one is bottomed out the other has only the tip in, and soon you’re drooling from the amount of stimulation you’re getting. Hizashi’s fingers move down to work at your clit, and just the slightest touch has you trembling. The stimulation shoves you over the edge and has you cumming hard around them, your slick dripping down your thighs. They slow their pace slightly, your holes clamping down on them and attempting to milk them dry. Hizashi’s fingers rub your clit harder, overstimulating you.

“Do you have one more for us baby? I know you can cum one more time for us.” You whine, thrashing in their arms trying to simultaneously get away and tug them closer. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach and Shouta leans over and bites down on your shoulder. The pain pulls you over, crying out as you clamp down on their lengths hard. Their hips stutter as they chase their own release, and they shoot rope after rope of cum into you as you ride out your own high.

They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments they pull out together, the movement making you moan and tremble. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him, stroking your hair and back. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders, both cooing praises in your ears.

Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom, where Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he unlocks your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back from the intense scene.

“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, wanting to be close to the both of them. The hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off and takes you from Shouta. He dries you off with a towel and locks your collar back around your neck.

“Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us.” Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.

You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, content with the new life you’d been brought into.

#erasermic #yandere erasermic #erasermic x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #erasermic smut #erasermic mha #erasermic bnha #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa smut #hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada x reader #hizashi yamada smut #shouta aizawa mha #shouta aizawa bnha #hizashi yamada mha #hizashi yamada bnha

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aeoki · 2 years ago

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Magic Lantern - Prologue

Location: Seisou Hall Courtyard Characters: Subaru & Sora Season: Autumn Writer: Akira

< Middle of October. Seisou Hall courtyard. >

Subaru: Hey~ Daikichi~? Where’d you go?

We’re playing hide and seek after tag? Come on, you know I’ve never won a single game against you.

(Hmm… I underestimated him. I thought it would be fine for me to let go of Daikichi’s leash around the Seisou Hall area.)

(He’s usually tied to the leash, so I wanted to let him have a taste of freedom once in a while!)

(Daikichi’s like me – we both love being free…☆)

(But I was careless. I should’ve known he would be over the moon once he learns he’s free, and would run around everywhere. He loves freedom as much as I do, after all.)

(It’s not the season for dogs to run around the garden happily~)

Sora: Heey! Sparkling Onii-san!

Subaru: Hm? That sounds like…?

Uhh? Oh, there you are! Heey, Yellow Kid~♪

What’re you doing up there? You’ll get hurt if you fall!

Sora: HaHa~♪ Sora is playing by himself! Sora’s trying to go from the school to Seisou Hall to Sora’s room without ever touching the ground or the floor~♪

Subaru: Sounds interesting! Don’t know if there’s any point in doing that, though!

Sora: It’s something you do because there’s no point in it! Master~ told me that~♪

Subaru: Ahaha! It definitely sounds like something Natsume would say – Natsume language is full of confusing things that are hard to understand!

Sora: No, it’s a magic spell ♪

Subaru: All the stuff about magic and spells is just pretending, right? …Well, anyway.

Yellow Kid! Sorry for bothering you while you’re busy playing, but have you seen Daikichi around here?

Sora: Daikichi? Your dog?

Subaru: Yeah! He stays with my mum when I’m busy with work, but he’s turned into a wild thing since the last time I saw him!

My mum spoils Daikichi way too much.

Sora: Hmm. So does that mean Daikichi decided to run away because you’re stricter than your mum?

Subaru: No, my mum spoils me too. I’m the type of Subaru Akehoshi who’s famous because I’m strict with both myself and others.

Sora: There are other types? Are they differentiated by colour?

Subaru: Nope! There’s always only one of me in the world…☆

…Uhh, what were we talking about? Yellow Kid, you tend to latch on to weird parts of the conversation, so it just goes nowhere~

Sora: Really? Sora hasn’t heard many people calling Sora “weird” lately~

But! It makes it sound like it was Sora’s fault, so Sora will find Daikichi as an apology! It should be super easy to spot him if Sora looks from a high place~♪

Subaru: No, it’s not your fault at all. I guess that part of you is a bit weird and odd~ I shouldn’t be the one saying that, though.

Sora: HiHi~♪ Target found! Daikichi is digging a hole in a corner of the courtyard~

He was easy to spot because he was wiggling about! Wild animals are good at erasing their presence, so it’s hard to find their “colour”?

Alrighty! This way, Sparkling Onii-san!

Subaru: Woah, don’t just jump down like that. It’s dangerous, you know…?

Sorry. You were having fun playing but I’m just being a bother.

Sora: It’s fine! Sora prioritises someone’s happiness over Sora’s fun!

Subaru: That so? My dad was the same sort of idol. The more he loved and cared about someone, the more the people around him suffered.

Sora: ……? I don’t really understand but Daikichi’s this way! Look over here, Daikichi ♪

Subaru: Ohh, you’re right. Thanks, Yellow Kid – you’ve got quite a sharp eye.

Sora: That’s Sora’s good point! Sora’s good at hunting for easter eggs~♪

Subaru: It’s not really the season for easter, though? Is that game slang or something? Natsume has a habit of using weird words like that and smiling to himself~

Anyway, look at you, Daikichi… Why did you leave your master behind and run off? You’re a disgrace to the Akehoshi family.

Sora: You don’t have to go that far. Wait, is that just a casual joke people would use towards their family members?

…HuHu~?

Subaru: What’s up now, Yellow Kid?

Sora: Well… The spot Daikichi was digging at is super sparkly and glittery.

Subaru: Really? Daikichi loves things that sparkle, after all~ It’s a trait of the Akehoshi family!

In my family, we’ve been dedicating our lives ever since we were a baby to mastering the secret behind all things that sparkle!

But, huh? There’s nothing sparkly there at all? There’s some sort of device-looking thing that’s covered in dirt, though…?

Sora: Yes! It looks sparkly to Sora!

Hmm? What is this? Sora hasn’t seen this sort of shape before.

Could it be something from a UFO…?

Next Chapter →

#magic lantern #enstars translation

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searchingwardrobes · 3 years ago

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Scarborough Fair: 5/?

I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. I said I would update every two weeks, and then I dropped the ball on that. I won't bore you with the details, but life just got crazy. Anyways, I think I have a game plan now that I should be able to update every two weeks, alternating updates with No Wives, No Lovers, No Mothers.

This chapter is about Emma's recovery, and it's honestly a gut-wrencher. However, some important plot points also come up, so I can't really give you places to skip like the last chapter. Hopefully, if you've stuck with me this far, you'll keep reading! I can't say the angst will cease after this chapter, but the rape will no longer be the main focus. So it gets better in some ways? I guess?

This is also now part of the CS Angsty August, so be sure to check out the other fan fic and fanart from that event!

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 3k in this chapter

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four

Also on Ao3

Tagging: (let me know if you wish to be removed or added): @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1

Chapter Five

The rest of that night and the next day passed for Emma in a hazy fog punctuated by bouts of crying in her bed curled up in the fetal position. Other times she just lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to let herself be swallowed up by a dark, dark hole that had taken up residence in her chest. She wanted to go numb, to never feel anything ever again. Just when she thought she’d succeeded in emptying herself of all emotion, waves of tears would begin to pound her once again.

She hadn’t had to spell anything out for Killian. He’d simply nodded when she asked for him to take her home, and in the car, he said nothing. The silence was laden with grief, yet she knew she couldn’t have handled any questions, or even worse, platitudes.

Even when they walked through the kitchen door, no words had been necessary. Ingrid had taken one look at Emma, and a single sob had escaped her lips. Emma fell into her embrace, tears finally coming. She heard Liam make a guttural sound followed by a thud. He’d punched something, even had bruises on his knuckles the next day to prove it. Like Killian, however, he said nothing, asked no questions, and refrained from touching her. She could tell the brothers wanted to, the way their hands kept fisting then opening again, the way their arms kept reaching just short of touching her, then falling back to their sides. Emma ached with both relief and sadness at their hesitancy.

Ingrid untangled Emma’s hair, tossing out the floral wreath and gently running a brush through the tresses. She wouldn’t let Emma bathe, however, and kept asking as gently as she could manage when Emma would be ready to go to the hospital. Emma knew what that meant. It meant an examination, a rape kit, and the police. The thought made her dizzy and physically ill. She would just shake her head, trembling in agitation.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Ingrid would soothe, “you have a little bit of time. We can wait until morning. Just don’t wash, okay?”

Emma had bit her lip as silent tears tracked down her face, yet nodded nonetheless. Ingrid helped her out of her prom clothes and into some pajamas as if she were five years old again. Then she tucked her in and brushed a kiss to her brow. Ingrid turned away, stuffing Emma’s discarded clothing into a pillowcase. Emma pretended not to see. Though she’d made no comment, Ingrid had been visibly dismayed that Emma had thrown her panties away in the public restroom. Too bad. They were the last things Emma wanted to ever touch or see again. With the “evidence” gripped in her hands, Ingrid turned off the overhead light and slipped out of the room. She left the bedside lamp on, for which Emma was grateful.

It felt like no time at all before headlights sliced across darkened walls of Emma’s bedroom. She could hear raucous laughter and car doors slamming, followed by the front door opening and closing. Anna’s giggles and happy chatter drifted up the stairs before coming to an abrupt end. Emma strained to hear the soft tones coming from the kitchen, and she could just make out a muffled cry. So they’d told Anna.

She heard her sister’s footfalls on the stairs, and she turned towards the wall, pulling her quilt up over her head. Emma closed her eyes and forced herself to remain still even as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She heard the door creak open, then the bed dipped as Anna sat down gingerly.

“Emma?” she whispered softly. Anna paused for a moment, then tried again, “Emma?”

Emma tried to even out her breathing so her sister would think she was asleep. Finally, the weight on the other side of the bed lifted and she heard Anna’s footsteps head for the door.

“I’m so sorry,” Anna whispered before slipping out the door.

Emma turned her face into her pillow to muffle her sobs. The night was long, and it was near dawn before she fell into a restless sleep. When she woke, the sun was streaming through her bedroom window. When she shifted, she felt the horrible pain between her legs, and the memories of the night before came rushing back. She curled in on herself, crying from both the throbbing pain and the utter devastation shredding her heart.

When Ingrid came softly into her bedroom with a glass of water, toast with strawberry jam, and some ibuprofen, Emma’s head began to pound. She knew what Ingrid would want her to do, and she still didn’t feel ready.

Yet the news Ingrid had to share changed everything. It didn’t matter if Emma had a rape kit done. It didn’t matter if she reported Neal Cassidy to the police or not.

Because Neal Cassidy’s car was upside down in the swollen river, crushed against a fallen tree. Though his body hadn’t been found, the driver’s seat, steering wheel, and dashboard were covered in blood. The shattered windshield was bloodied, too. His mother, Lacey Cassidy, reported him missing when she woke at 5 am to find he had never come home from prom.

After delivering this news, Ingrid coaxed a few bites of toast into Emma so she could take the ibuprofen. Though she wasn’t hungry, Emma obeyed.

“Sweetheart,” Ingrid told her gently, reaching forward to brush strands of hair from her forehead, “the police called. Witnesses testified that you were Neal’s date last night.”

Emma froze with her toast halfway to her mouth. “What are you saying?”

Ingrid’s hands dropped to her lap, and she couldn’t look Emma in the eye as she answered. “They’re coming over to question you.”

The toast Emma had forced down almost came back up. “Are they blaming me for something?”

“Oh no, honey!” Ingrid hurriedly clarified. “Apparently, kids from prom also said they saw Neal drinking. I think they’re just trying to figure out how he ended up in the river.”

Emma dropped her toast. “I’m taking a shower.”

She struggled out of bed, trying in vain to hide her wince. Ingrid stilled her with a gentle hand to her elbow. “You know you can still tell them what happened.”

“What’s the point!” Emma shouted, hugging her middle. “He’s dead!”

Ingrid shook her head. “They don’t know that for sure. There’s no body.”

Tears flowed down Emma’s cheeks, and her voice choked on sobs. “I don’t care. His car is in the river, and I’m . . . I’m . . .”

Ingrid hurried to her feet and pulled Emma close as she continued to sob.

********************************************************************

Despite her family’s objections, Emma lied to the police. Well, lies of omission. She said she wasn’t sure if Neal had been drinking or not, but that he was acting weird enough to freak her out. Since she hadn’t wanted to go to the party with him, Killian had come to get her. Killian corroborated her story, and also added how he’d seen Neal acting strangely. He’d told the police how Neal had run when he called his name.

After that, the Joneses heard nothing from the police again. They tried to ignore the spin that the news gave to the story, but that was difficult in a suburban college town where gossip raged. The tragedy seemed to be the only thing anyone wanted to talk about. Neal was painted as a good kid who made high grades in school and was the pride and joy of his single mother. What a shame, people said, that such a promising young man had his life cut short by drinking and driving.

Neal’s elevation to golden boy following his death (disappearance? Did it really matter? The police had closed the case, after all) made both Liam and Killian livid with anger. How dare he be portrayed as some type of saint after he . . . he . . .

No one in her family could just come out and say it. They’d talk about “what happened” or “that night” or “what that snake did.” Not that Emma could blame them. She couldn’t get the “r” word past her lips, either. Couldn’t even think it, to be honest.

Emma stayed home from school for two weeks after prom. Anna brought her work home from the teachers. Everyone was very understanding, considering the circumstances. That is, they all thought she was Neal’s grieving prom date.

Emma continued to spend most of that time in bed, though the bouts of crying were fewer and farther between. Ingrid let it slide, but a few days before Emma returned to school, she demanded that Emma get in the car - no arguing. Emma wasn’t surprised when she drove her to the free counselor at the center. Ingrid was still Ingrid, after all.

So life fell back into a pattern of sorts, though the Jones household wasn’t the joyous place it had once been. They all walked on eggshells around Emma, and she hated it. Even Elsa wasn’t the same on their video calls. Her brow furrowed, and her voice dropped to almost a whisper as she asked, “how are you holding up?”

Nevertheless, the counseling was helping, and so was her prescription of citalopram. She was on a pretty high dose, at least for now, which had the blessed side effect of making her sleep deeply and without nightmares.

The last month of school passed in a blur, and Emma ended her junior year with low Bs and one C in chemistry instead of her usual mixture of As and high Bs. Still, even that was impressive, all things considered. Her teachers expressed understanding “because of all she’d been through,” though they didn’t actually understand at all.

Emma had never felt so relieved for summer to arrive. She had originally planned to volunteer at the family center’s camp for underprivileged youth along with Anna, but Ingrid completely understood when she changed her mind.

“Although,” Ingrid had added with a concerned frown, “I don’t want you holed up in your room all summer.”

For the first time since April, Emma actually laughed. “Stop worrying. My counselor said the same thing.”

She promised not to hide out in her room, but she also wouldn’t promise to have a thriving social life. A summer of reading, taking dips in Lily’s backyard pool, and helping Liam grill out were about all the social activity she felt she could handle.

Right now, she was soaking up the early June sun in Ingrid’s flower garden. For Mother’s Day, Liam and Killian had built an arbor with a swing. Emma sat in it now, pushing it back and forth lightly with one toe as she smelled deeply of the middlemist roses that had finally bloomed.

“Emma, please tell me you aren’t going to sit out here and do nothing all day.”

Emma sighed deeply at the sight of Ingrid, hands on her hips. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Ingrid marched across the grass. “I decided to come home for lunch to check on you,and I’m glad I did. What have you done so far today?”

“Calm down, Ingrid,” Killian’s voice came from the back porch, though Emma couldn’t see him past the arbor. “She’s just waiting on me to take her for ice cream.”

Killian winked at Emma as he sauntered into view. When Ingrid turned to face him, Emma mouthed, “Thank you.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Ingrid quipped.

“We put in overtime last weekend, remember?” Killian shrugged. “I have to be compensated for that time. Union rules.”

“Oh, okay,” Ingrid capitulated, glancing at her watch, “well, that’s good because I’ve got an errand to run after I grab a bite.”

“You all don’t have to babysit me, you know,” Emma frowned.

“I’m not,” Killian protested, eyes wide, “I genuinely want to spend time with my best friend.”

Emma’s heart, for the first time in a month and a half, warmed as she took the hand Killian extended to her.

***************************************************************

Killian knew they had all been treating Emma differently, and he even knew that she didn’t like it. He couldn’t seem to stop worrying about her, though. None of them could. There were brief moments when life seemed normal, but then Emma would stare into space vacantly or jump three feet when a door slammed, and he would be reminded of that horrible night all over again. At least she was no longer spending days in bed or wandering the house aimlessly like a ghost. He could tell her therapy was helping, but it was an achingly slow process. He’d mentioned it to Ingrid once.

“Coping with this type of trauma isn’t linear, I’m afraid,” she’d explained to him. “You’ll see Emma make progress, but then you might see her regress. We all just have to be patient with her.”

It wasn’t a lack of patience, at least not for him. He realized that Emma would never be the same person she’d been before, and he wasn’t expecting or asking that of her. He just wanted to see joy in her eyes again. He wanted to see her cheeks pink as she laughed, he wanted to see her collapse against Liam on the couch as he read a book, he wanted her to sit here with him chatting about everything and nothing. In short, he wanted her to live again. Fully. Not for him, but for her own happiness.

At least she’d finished her cup of rocky road. Large - just like old times. It was the most he’d seen her eat in a long while. Emma sighed in satisfaction as she gave her spoon one last lick, then deposited the empty cup in the passenger side cup holder. She made another small, contented sound as she looked out the windshield at this quiet section of the city park. The windows in Killian’s car were down, and a summer breeze teased the ends of Emma’s hair. He was admiring the serene look on her face, but it was short lived. She frowned, then turned to face him.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

Killian tried to act nonchalant as he rested his arm against his open window. “I suppose that depends on what it is.”

Emma chewed on her bottom lip, and pink crept up her neck. Uh-oh, it looked like she really meant personal.

“Are you a virgin?”

Killian was glad he’d finished his cookies & cream, or we would have choked on it. “Wow, okay, well -”

“Please, Killian,” she pleaded, looking him squarely in the eyes, “I have to ask somebody this, and I don’t feel comfortable enough with anyone else.”

Killian felt his own face heat as he nervously scratched behind his ear. “Well, I don’t want you to think I’m a monk or anything, but . . . no - I mean, yes. That is to say, no, I haven’t had sex. I’m a virgin.”

Killian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Emma’s lips quirked up, and a tiny laugh escaped.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked indignantly.

“No,” she said, and when he saw that old sparkle in her eyes, his embarrassment was almost worth it, “I just think it’s funny how embarrassed you are right now. It’s okay to be a virgin, you know.”

“I know,” he said, a bit defensively.

“I would be too, you know, if . . .” she trailed off and stared down at her hands which twisted in her lap. “Anyways, about my question. Even though you’re a virgin, have you ever, ummm . . . gotten . . . an orgasm?”

Killian’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Why in the world would you want to know that!?”

Emma’s face contorted in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to answer that. There’s just something I have to know about guys.”

Killian took a deep breath, then let it out. He looked at Emma and gently asked her, “What is it? Ask me anything you want.”

Emma’s brow furrowed as if she were searching for the right words. “When guys . . . come, do they . . . act different?”

Killian shook his head, confused. “Different how?”

“Like a different person? Do they get so . . . excited that they . . . change? Like sound different or even look different?”

Killian still had no idea where she was going with this. “I’m still not following you.”

Emma pressed her hands to her face, then looked up at Killian with pleading eyes. “If I tell you something, will you promise to believe me?”

“Of course I’ll believe you. I’ll always believe you.”

Emma’s face softened in relief. “You promise not to think I’m crazy?”

He took her hands in his. “Emma, I promise you, nothing you could say will ever make me think that of you.”

Inside, his heart was racing and his mind was in turmoil. She was about to tell him something about that horrible night, and he knew it was the last thing he wanted to hear. However, she needed him, so he would bury his feelings and be the strength she needed.

“That night,” she began hesitantly. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly, then continued. “The night Neal raped me, when he . . . well, during it, he just changed. It’s hard to describe, but it’s like his skin turned scaly and green, and . . . sparkly. It wasn’t Neal’s face above me anymore. Then, he spoke, and it wasn’t Neal’s voice. The voice was high-pitched and manic, you know? And he said . . . he said . . .”

Killian took her hands again, knowing she wanted to get it all out, but didn’t have the strength.

“He said All magic comes with a price, dearie. I mean, isn’t that weird? What does that even mean?”

Silence fell between them, and Killian looked down at Emma’s small hands in his. He tenderly rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she whispered.

He smiled at her as he slowly shook his head. He gathered his thoughts before speaking.

“No, I don’t think you’re crazy, Emma. I completely believe that you saw what you saw. However, I think there’s a logical explanation for it.”

“So guys do become different?”

“No,” Killian said firmly, “I may be a virgin, but when a guy has sex, I think who they really are is heightened. Their love is more intense, their tenderness is deeper . . .”

Killian trailed off, suddenly self conscious as he gazed into her wide green eyes.

“So why did I see what I saw? Hear what I heard?”

“I think that Neal wasn’t the person you thought he was. You thought he was a nice guy, and then when he acted the complete opposite of that, your mind helped you understand it by seeing him as a monster.”

Emma pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She was quiet for a moment, then she whispered, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Then she pressed her face to her knees and began to sob. Like every other time she’d wept since prom night, Killian had to suppress his instinct to reach out for her and hold her. Ingrid kept reminding him and Liam that they had to wait for her to initiate touch; that she might not want any male to touch her, even something as simple as an arm around her shoulder, for quite some time. He’d taken her hands moments ago without thinking, and that had been the first time he’d reached for her in over a month.

So he just sat there, not knowing what to do or what to say, his heart breaking that he couldn’t fix this. Then, suddenly, she looked up at him, her face red and tear-streaked, strands of her hair stuck to her damp cheeks. She stared at him with hurt and anger in her eyes.

“Why won’t you hold me?”

“Oh Emma,” he breathed, and then he was out of the car and racing around to the passenger side in a moment. When he opened her door, Emma practically threw herself at him, and he caught her as he went to his knees. She sobbed against him, half in the car and half out of it, and he rocked her reassuringly back and forth. He ran his fingers through her hair and mumbled soothing words that really meant nothing into her ear.

“I’ve missed you,” she finally choked out once the worst of her tears were spent. “You never touch me anymore. Neither does Liam. Today you took my hand for the first time in forever, and I missed it so damn much.”

Killian held her tighter, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. Liam and I were trying to give you space and let you heal.”

“Well, it sucked,” Emma snapped, and then they both actually laughed. Emma pulled away, wiping at her damp cheeks. “Especially with you. I don’t want to lose you, too, on top of everything else.”

Killian cupped her face in his hands, both his thumbs swiping at her cheeks. “You won’t,” he vowed to her. “I promise, you won’t.”

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