#and it was shorter. so. i figured i could finish it quick *rubs palms*

[fisheito]

If you want actually good BL reccs, I've been reading Cherry Magic recently and it's v sweet.

I also read this other one a while ago that was wholesome in a weird way: "My quiet best friend's just tongue-tied"

dude do u know what this ask feels like? like... me: *puts down the toxic high school BL midway through* *heavy sigh* *takes a swig of lavender lemonade* why tf all these yaois so damm .. i don't know. sigh. this is a young man's game. maybe i'm not fit for this no mores anon: hey so i heard u like wholesome and probably not teens *slides recs over* me: either i am unbelievably easy to read or you're just a seasoned BL sommelier. thank u dearly, anon

[greyyson-but-no]

don't listen to them | tommyinnit

genre | fluff, slight angst

warnings | insecurities, a crying tommy, kissing and two 'i love you's, lowercase on purpose, unedited

pairing | tommyinnit x reader (you)

word count | 744 words

a/n | could this count as a blurb? shorter than usual but it was something quick i wrote yesterday and i just wanted to get it out as soon as possible. please continue sending in requests even though i'm shit at actually writing them, i promise i will get around to them asap [this is in no disrespect to molly in any way whatsoever]

sometimes, it could get too much. you knew that tommy had had bullying issues when he was in secondary and that led him to be a little self-conscious when the youtube/twitch career became huge but for the most part, he had handled it well. and anything that he hadn't, he had told you about and the two of you had gone through it together and had been fine.

it wasn't unusual for you to pop over uninvited, since you had the spare key to his flat and were seemingly more comfortable in his house that his own. what was unusual was that when you stepped inside and closed the door, you weren't greeted by a hyper tommy excited to see you. instead, silence.

"tom?" you called, waiting a few seconds, expecting him to come bounding around the corner, but greeted by nothing.

with furrowed eyebrows, you left the hall and went into his office, because maybe he was streaming? you always checked twitch before leaving and he hadn't been streaming, but he always could have started while you were on your way.

the lights were off. there were the string lights around the edge of the ceiling that were glittering softly but other than that the room was soaked in complete darkness. if he wasn't here, then you didn't know where he was. where he could have been. he wouldn't have been sleeping; it was four in the afternoon.

but there was a figure on the sofa. pushed up against the wall and curled into a small melancholy ball against the cushions. his eyes were closed, but he didn't have that sleeping look on his face that was the cutest thing ever. instead his eyebrows were furrowed, like he was frustrated from something. you wanted nothing more than to help him, whatever this was and whatever this meant. you hated seeing him like this.

"tommy? it's me.." you murmured, kneeling down against the side of the sofa and watching as he shook his head. "lovely, what's up?"

a small incoherent mumble came from him, but it wasn't an answer, nor the one you were looking for. ever so carefully, you grabbed his shoulders as turned him over so that he was facing you, hands moving up to his hair and combing through it softly, knowing it would comfort him somewhat.

"what are you..." you asked, trailing off when you saw the red in his eyes. your heart ached at the sight of him, you'd never seen him so broken and yet here he was.

"hi." he let out a half laugh, half sob and it broke your heart.

swallowing, you rubbed a hand against his cheek, pulling him up into a hug, arms around his neck, pulled as close as possible. you never wanted to let him go, you never wanted to see him like this again. you wanted to rid the world of every single possible problem that could possibly bother him. "god, tommy, what happened? y-" but you couldn't finish your sentence.

he shrugged. "i think i took a few comments too seriously, that's all."

"tom, we've spoken about this." you told him, still keeping your eyes soft as your hand still rested on his cheek, his palms wrapped around each arm, as if he was latched on for life. "you can't be looking at comments for too long."

"eh, i know, it was just too tempting." he explained, breaking eye contact and looking downwards instead. "you know what i'm like."

pulling his forehead down, you pressed a soft kiss on his forehead and leant yours against his, smiling down at him. "you know none of them are right, yeah? you're brilliant, cute and fucking hilarious tommy, nothing they say against you is true."

"yeah, i know." he nodded, swallowing thickly. "just sometimes gets too much."

"that's fine. it's fine if you sometimes need to take a step back, just please, never let yourself get like this alone. message me, or give me a ring, please anything, i hate seeing you like this." you told him, telling the truth one hundred percent and watching as he smiled at you and nodded.

"i love you."

"love you too, honey." you softly kissed him. "wanna play something? what about the sims?"

tommy nodded, now grinning, the redness in his eyes slowly disappearing. "yeah! come on!" and he grabbed your hand pulling you up and surely to his office. everything would be okay. you couldn't help but smile at the returning grin on his lips.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 17

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“We should get champagne or something, to celebrate,” Scully says, her eyes roving over the menu.

After three weeks of rehab, Teena Mulder has finally been able to move home, though she’s under the constant care of an in-home nurse. Knowing that she’s back in her own space, no longer the medical setting that made her miserable, is a huge weight off Mulder’s shoulders. This is why they’re out to dinner, celebrating a hopeful return to what feels like normal.

“Only if you’re driving home,” Mulder replies playfully, “you know what bubbly does to me.”

She gives him a flirtatious smirk. “Yes, I do.”

“Dana?” someone calls out, and they look over to see two women. One is tall and slim with light olive-toned skin and brunette shoulder-length hair. The other is significantly shorter, Latina, with thick hips and an ample bustline, her dark hair cascading down her back.

“Monica, hi,” Scully replies warmly to the tall woman. She turns to the shorter one, “you must be Dahlia.”

“Guilty as charged,” the short woman answers jovially with a heavy Spanish accent.

“This is my boyfriend, Fox Mulder,” Scully continues, gesturing to him, “Mulder, this is Monica, I���ve told you about her.”

Mulder nods in understanding. Scully has often mentioned a woman she regularly has coffee and lunch with who works in VICAP.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Mulder says, offering his hand to Monica.

She takes his hand with a firm grip, then gestures to the short woman, “this is my partner, Dahlia.”

Mulder and Scully both greet Dahlia with handshakes.

“Well, we’ll leave you to your meal, it was nice to run into you,” Monica says.

“Would you like to join us? We haven’t even ordered yet,” Scully offers, giving Mulder a quick glance to confirm that this is okay. He nods almost imperceptibly.

“Oh, we don’t want to impose,” Monica answers.

“Not at all,” Mulder jumps in, correctly picking up that Monica is worried about imposing on him, not Scully, “I’d love to finally get to know this mysterious VICAP woman Scully is always talking about.”

Monica smiles and he moves to the chair beside Scully so she and Dahlia can occupy the other two. They order champagne and appetizers, and he finds the two women to be very pleasant company.

“So, you work in VICAP too, then?” he asks Dahlia, and she gives him a confused look.

“No, I work at a little flower shop in Alexandria,” she answers.

“Oh, sorry, I thought Monica said you were partners.”

Scully shoots him an embarrassed glare, but Dahlia laughs.

“You know, I always tell Monica she should just call me her girlfriend, but she insists on ‘partner,’” she says, looking at Monica affectionately. He can’t help but smile, realizing he’d missed the very obvious fact that they are lovers.

“Girlfriend sounds so juvenile to me,” Monica explains, “partner feels a bit more serious, and permanent.”

“It’s okay, mija,” Dahlia continues, “you can call me your partner, hasta el día en que puedas ser mi esposa.”

Monica beams at her, and while he didn’t understand a word of that, it’s plainly clear that they are very much in love.

Appetizers come and go, flutes of champagne are emptied and refilled and a second bottle is ordered. Scully brings up Monica’s education and her experiences working at the New Orleans field office, and she and Mulder carry on a conversation about the change in VooDoo practices over the course of generations while Scully and Dahlia discover that they have similar taste in literature. Dahlia is telling a story about reading a Spanish translation of Jane Eyre as a teenager and how she still, to this day, has a hard time not calling him “Señor Rochester,” when the waiter brings by the check and Mulder snatches it away just as Dahlia was reaching for it.

“My treat,” Mulder says, pulling out his wallet.

Dahlia gives Monica a look, saying “me gusta este chico,” and Mulder chuckles.

“That I understood,” he quips, and they all laugh.

Back at the apartment, they get ready for bed. Scully is standing at the sink brushing her teeth when Mulder slinks up behind her, slipping his hands onto her hips and dipping his head down to kiss her neck.

“Mmm, there’s that champagne,” she says, the words garbled around her toothbrush.

“It’s not that champagne makes me want you, Scully. I always want you. It just makes me a little more bold,” he explains, trailing his fingers down to the hem of her night shirt and lifting it enough to get a look at her panties.

She swats his hand away. “Let me finish brushing my teeth,” she chastises, and he retreats to the bedroom.

She joins him a few minutes later, slipping under the sheets and draping her bare leg over his. He lifts his arm so she can burrow against his torso, her head on his chest. He rubs his hand across her back, eliciting a contented sigh.

“So, what did you think of Monica?” she asks, her fingertips on his ribcage moving in small circles.

“I really like her, I can see why you two hit it off,” he answers.

“She reminds me a little of you, actually,” she says, and he can feel her smile against his skin. “She has some...out there ideas.”

“Am I not talking enough about cryptids at home, Scully? You had to go find a friend to supplement?” he asks playfully, dipping his fingers into her armpit briefly in a threat to tickle her.

She clamps her arms against her sides and giggles. “We don’t talk much about that, but when I first met her she told me about my aura, so I figured you two would have some things in common.”

“That sounds more like Missy’s purview,” he comments, and then they fall silent for a moment.

“I’m actually really glad we ran into her,” Scully begins, running her hand down his abdomen to rest just beneath his belly button. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up without you having some context.”

“Scully, if you’re about to suggest we have a foursome with Monica and Dahlia, I’m going to owe Frohike five hundred bucks,” he interjects.

She scoffs, “in your dreams, Mulder.”

“I think you mean Melvin.”

“Well, sorry Melvin, but that’s not what I was thinking about.” Her thumb hooks just beneath the elastic of his boxers, his happy trail tickling her skin.

“Okay, sorry, what were you thinking about?”

“What if,” she begins, dragging her finger back and forth under the fabric, “Monica was your partner. On the X files.”

He puts his hand over hers to still the movement, pulling away a bit so she’ll look at him.

“What do you mean, Scully?” He feels a rush of adrenaline, though he’s not yet sure if it’s from excitement or fear.

“I mean, she’s open to...unexplainable phenomena. The two of you get along quite well, and she wouldn't try to debunk your work or scoff at your theories. You said they might let you reopen them if you had a partner you could work with, and I think Monica might be that person.”

He considers this for a moment. “Who’s to say she’d even want to, she’s assigned to VICAP-”

“She hates VICAP,” Scully interjects, “it’s a bunch of macho men trying to one-up each other. I know she’d be happy to be reassigned, and to work out of the Hoover building. She and Dahlia live in Palisades; her commute sucks.”

His mind is reeling, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. “I don’t even know where we’d start, Scully. It seems so unlikely.”

“Just ask for a meeting with AD Skinner. If you think it would help for Monica to be a part of that meeting, I know she’d be happy to attend. I’ve told her a bit about The X files and I wouldn’t even bring this up with you unless I was sure she’d be interested. I can talk to her about it on Monday, if you want to give it a shot.”

He looks up at the ceiling, eyebrows stitched in thought. Hope pricks at the corners of his mind, but he knows well enough not to let it take root; he’s been disappointed too many times before. He looks over at Scully, her expression holding all the hope that he won’t allow himself to feel.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks gently.

“Because I want you to be happy,” she says earnestly, pulling her hand from beneath his and bringing it to his cheek, “from the moment I met you, I saw how you light up when you talk about The X Files. If there’s a chance you can investigate them again, I want to pursue it.”

He sighs, a tender smile tugging at his lips. He turns on his side, pushing his palms under her ass and pulling her on top of him as she giggles.

“Okay, talk to Monica,” he says, sliding his hands under her sleep shirt and up her bare back, “I’ll email Skinner on Monday.”

She smiles at him, self-satisfied and victorious.

“Now, about that champagne,” he says, pulling her down for a kiss.

———

She nervously checks her email every two minutes, aggressively clicking the send/receive button. Monica and Mulder were meeting with AD Skinner at 11:00am and it’s now almost 1:00pm and she hasn’t heard anything. That could either be a very good sign, or a very bad one. She has class in ten minutes and needs to head over to the lecture hall to prepare. She refreshes it one more time, and an email pops up.

From: fmulder@fbi.gov

Sent: September 18, 1997 12:51pm

To: dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: Maybe good news?

He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes, either. He asked us about 800 questions and then said he had to run it by the section chief. My impression is that he wants to make it work, but obviously it’s not totally within his control.

Fingers crossed. Hopefully we’ll know by Friday.

She heaves a big sigh, a cautious smile playing on her lips. She shoots him a quick response and then makes her way to class, praying all the way that the answer will be yes.

———

She’d taken that Friday off, for no reason in particular. Ever since Mulder had effectively moved in with her, she liked to take random weekdays off here and there just to have some time to herself. She’d spent the afternoon reading, re-arranging her spice cupboard, and making space for Mulder to have half her dresser instead of just one drawer. She’s sitting on the floor of the bedroom, surrounded by neatly folded stacks of T-shirts and pajama pants, when she hears the front door open. She checks her watch; it’s only 3:00 pm, too early for Mulder to be home.

“Hello?” she calls out nervously.

The bedroom door swings open and Mulder is there, his chest heaving and a dopey smile on his face.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, “what are you doing home?”

“It was approved,” he says breathlessly, apparently having run from wherever he parked the car.

“What was approved?” she asks, standing.

“The X Files, Scully. They’re reopened, effective Monday, with me and Reyes as the assigned agents,” he says, his smile broadening even further.

Her mouth drops open in disbelief, a surprised smile forming on her lips. She had held out hope, but she was also very aware that the chances were slim. He crosses the room, scooping her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his hips.

“It never would have happened if it wasn’t for you,” he says, adoration in his eyes.

She kisses him, and he turns to lay her on the bed, shedding his suit jacket and tossing it on the floor. Moving quickly, desperately, he tugs at the waistband of her pants, stripping them off along with her panties, and pushes her shirt up to expose her breasts. He begins kissing her neck, down to her chest and belly, pausing intermittently to speak words of affirmation and gratitude until he reaches the apex of her thighs and is quiet.

He laps at her tenderly, humming and sighing as her body catches up and she feels the flush of desire form in her belly. She pushes her fingers into his hair, scraping gently at his scalp in encouragement as he flicks his tongue against her opening and she bucks her hips in response. His thumb swipes gently over her clit as he pushes his tongue inside her, licking at her increasingly slick walls and making her whimper. After a few minutes, he switches to his fingers inside her and his tongue at her clit. Swirling and sucking until she commands him not to stop, he holds steady as she falls apart against his lips, flexing his fingers deep inside to draw it out. Finally she taps on his head, and he crawls back up to plant soft kisses along her jaw.

“Consider us even,” she breathes out, eyes still closed in bliss.

“I think I might like to continue making it up to you,” he says with a nip to her earlobe, and she laughs.

“Okay, if you insist.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet (2)

Warnings: this series will be a shorter one and will include blood/blood kink, cutting, noncon, and other triggers to be warned in future parts. (This chapter includes cutting, blood, knives, and noncon)

This features Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and is explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Notes:

Here’s part two. I dunno when the next update will be but it’ll be on the long list of to dos.

Leave a comment if you like but it's never a demand. I hope you are all safe and healthy. <3 Love you.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

One leg over the other, thumb in your mouth, your phone in your other hand. You once more sat impatiently in Stark Tower. You checked again. No texts. Steve hadn’t answered you since lunchtime but he said he’d see you after work.

“He’s got you waiting again, doll?” Bucky’s voice made you flinch. You pushed your shoulders back and dropped your hand from your mouth.

“Oh, hey,” you said and swallowed the lump in your throat. “You again.”

He smiled as he neared and you leaned back as you expected him to pass you by. He didn’t. Instead, he sat in the chair across from you and sighed. He pushed his legs apart as his fingers curled atop his thighs and he squared his shoulders. He settled in as if he had been on his feet all day and watched you squirm.

“I just saw Steve. He was with Tony. Said he’s gonna be a while.” Bucky said, “But I can let him know you’re here.” The corner of his mouth twitched, “If it was me, I’d sure be hurrying to get out of here.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I can wait.” You crossed your arm across your stomach and clutched your phone with your other hand. How could he act so normal when you felt as if you would vomit on the floor? His words loomed in your mind; “you taste delicious.”

“He’s a lucky guy to have you always waiting around for him.” Bucky’s fingers slipped to the seam along his inner thigh and he rubbed the denim.

“Mhmm,” you nodded and looked down the hall.

“Your hand,” his eyes flitted to the hand around your phone.

“All better.” You said curtly. “Just a scar now.”

“Mmmmm,” he gave a drawn out hum, “That’s good.”

He stood and you slumped as he came to sit beside you. A shiver crawled up your spine as his weight caused the chair to knock against yours.

“What are you--” Your voice lodged in your voice as he reached over and drew your hand over to him.

He wiggled your phone from your grasp and placed it between his legs. He turned your hand over and his thumb traced the line across your palm.

“It’s not so bad.” He remarked. “Scars show character… suffering.”

“Bucky,” you tried to tug your hand back, “I don’t think--”

“Here,” He pulled your hand and placed it on his chest. You felt the firm muscle and the beating of his heart. “I caught a piece of shrapnel in the Netherlands. You can barely see it anymore but it’s there. And here,” He moved your palm to his neck, “Look close and you’ll see where Hydra put the needle. A long mean thing. The sedative didn’t always work.”

“Please, let go of me,” you said quietly.

“And here,” he pressed your hand to his stomach, “Some mission in Austria in the 70s. They wiped my mind but not the scars. The scars help me remember what they took from me.”

“Please…” you gasped weakly.

“Here,” he pushed your hand down to his thigh, “Barely missed the artery…”

“Stop.” You snatched your hand back and your phone clattered to the floor.

Bucky bent to grab it as you watched fearfully. He held it out to you calmly and as you took it, you heard footsteps just around the corner.

“Don’t tell me you’re over here playing with knives again.” Sam chuckled as he strode towards you. “Steve told me to keep an eye out. I always told him not to trust the dude with the fairgrounds claw for an arm with sharp objects but what do I know?”

“Sam,” Bucky sniffed and stood slowly. “Took you long enough.”

“Only when you’re waiting on me,” Sam winked.

You smiled at Sam and avoided looking at Bucky. You grasped your phone between your hands unsure of what to say or do. You wanted to say something; to blow the whistle but somehow you didn’t feel like anyone would believe you. So you forced a laugh and reached for your purse.

“I’m just gonna go.” You hooked the strap over your shoulder, “Steve just texted. He’s gonna be late.”

You brushed past them and tried not to seem too eager to be away. You waited by the elevator and didn’t let out your breath until the metal doors closed behind you. You braced yourself against the wall and slowly raised your cell. You opened up your conversation with Steve.

‘Sorry, babe, headed home to get some extra work done. Wait for you there. Love you.’

The lie was more believable as you reread it. You tucked your phone away and resigned yourself to a train ride home. Yet, even as you left Stark Tower, you could not escape Bucky’s shadow. What he’d said, what he’d done, what you’d fought so hard to deny, could not be ignored any longer. But how would you tell Steve? How could you?

🩸

As you got home, sure to lock the door behind you, you hung up your purse and your phone vibed in your back pocket. You slid it out as you wiggled free of your shoes and leaned against the table as you read the message. It was Steve; ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Meant to text you first. Tony’s keeping me late.’

You sent a frowny face and your phone buzzed again with his quick response. ‘Don’t think that means I won’t be home in time to turn that frown upside down’. You giggled at his cheesy response but the emojis sent in succession assured you of the real meaning of his words.

You took your phone with you and flopped onto the couch. You turned on the television and yawned as your cell rested on the cushion beside you. It didn’t take long for you to forget the day and lose yourself in the episodic comedy.

It was close to an hour before your phone shook again. You didn’t look at it at first as you lazed across the couch. You dug the cell out from under you and swiped the lock screen away. Another message from Steve.

‘Put something nice on, sweetheart ;P’

You shook your head at the text and sent a coy emoji in response.

‘That’s an order from your captain.’ He rebuked in the next message.

Your lips parted. ‘Well, how long are you gonna be?’ You typed quickly.

‘A while. :/ But you can give me a taste while you wait for me.’

‘A taste?’

‘You know what I want.’

You ran your fingertips over your lip and felt the warmth nestle in your pelvis. You hated when he did this; it made your hours apart even more difficult. Yet it was always worth it. You rolled onto your stomach and steadied your phone. You undid the top of your blouse and lifted yourself on one arm. You took a photo of your cleavage and hit send.

‘Something like this?’ You teased.

‘You haven’t changed yet. Bad girl.’

You blinked at the last two words. Steve was flirty but he was rarely so demanding, more needy. You sat up and chewed your lip.

‘Well, it might take me some time to choose.’ You smirked as you sent it.

‘You have two minutes.’

‘Two minutes? or what?’

‘Do you really want to find out?’

You were unsure what to reply with. You stared at your phone and another message popped up. ‘90 seconds’.

You hopped up from the couch and nearly tripped. You typed as you walked blindly to the bedroom. ‘Yes, sir.’

You tossed your phone on the bed and tore open your dresser. You shuffled through your intimates and pulled out the first thing you got a grasp on. You had yet to wear the white number as you favoured the red and black pieces more. You stripped as you phone vibrated on the mattress and struggled to get into the sheer babydoll and untangle the matching thong.

You grabbed your phone and flipped it over. Steve’s countdown filled the chat and you quickly poked at the screen. ‘All done!’

‘Well?’ was his only reply.

You laughed at yourself and opened the camera. You stretched your arm out and looked for and angle. You took a photo from above as you pushed out your chest and pouted. You sent and waited anxiously for a response. You paced until your phone went off again.

‘I want to see all of you.’

You looked around and placed the phone on a pillow against the headboard. You balanced it carefully and set the timer. You hit the button and posed. It took several tries before you were happy and you sent it off.

The emoji response was all you needed. There was a brief lull and your phone went off again. ‘Fuck it. I’m on my way.’

You smiled at the phone and replied, ‘Better be quick or I might finish on my own.’

You set aside your phone and fidgeted restlessly. You weren’t sure what to do until he got there. You sat on the bed and scrolled through your social media but couldn’t think of much else than the pulsing between your legs. It had been a long week and Steve had been distracted and you had been spacey.

As you struggled to keep yourself busy with a mobile game with too many ads, you heard the door. The lock clicked back into place and you listened for the footsteps. But they were quiet and almost indiscernible. Convinced that you might have imagined the noise, you stood as a figure appeared in the door. It wasn’t Steve.

You stopped short as a grin slowly spread across Bucky’s face. He tilted his head as he watched you cross your arms over your lingerie and shy away.

“What are you doing here?” You asked breathlessly as you reached for your robe hung over the chest against the wall.

“Don’t,” he said, “Come on, let me get a look at you.” He leaned on the doorframe. “Pictures don’t do you any justice.”

“What are you--” you hissed as you grabbed the silk robe and glanced over at him. He waved Steve’s phone and dropped it on the dresser just inside the door.

“Looks like someone lost their phone.” He said, “Now…” He reached to his belt and unsnapped the strap of the sheath that held his large kabar, “Put the robe down, doll.”

“What--” You gave a nervous laugh, “Okay, Bucky, it’s not funny anymore. You need to go.”

“Do I?” He slowly drew out his knife.

“You’re not going to…” You watched the blade as he spun the knife easily. “You wouldn’t.”

“Only if you make me… but I wouldn’t mind another taste,” he admired the metal then his blue eyes found you again. “Come on. Sit.” He pointed to the end of the bed as he broke the threshold. “Here.”

“Steve. If he finds out, he’ll--”

“You think he’ll believe you.” His face turned stony. “Hmm? And if he does, do you think I won’t cut your tongue out?”

You gulped. The robe fluttered to the floor as you gaped at him. He wiggled the blade at the foot of the mattress and cleared his throat impatiently. You trembled as you crossed the room. You sat gingerly and watched him stalk closer.

The blade touched your cheek and ran down under your chin. He dragged it along your neck and rested it between your tits that threatened to spill out. You cowered before him as he sliced through the sheer fabric of the baby doll and exposed your stomach.

“I like this. You like to dress up, huh?” He asked.

You clenched your jaw and he slid the kabar under the left strap of the lingerie.

“Answer me, doll.” He warned as he snapped the fabric.

“Yes,” you uttered. “Bucky, please… why?”

“Because… I want to.” He smiled and cut the other strap. The fabric hung below your chest as it fell loose, the cups flipping down against your stomach. “Now, if I have to cut you, you’re going to have to be real convincing so let’s not do that… yet.”

You shuddered. Your mouth was dry and your throat tight. You chest squeezed as you stared up at him.

“It’s up to you, doll,” he poked your shoulder lightly with the kabar, “Can I put this away?”

You glanced down and watched the light shine off the blade. You could see it now, with a little pressure it would sink into your flesh. Your lip quivered and you nodded as you looked up at him.

“Yes, put it away,” you murmured, “Please.”

Content, he licked his lips and rescinded the knife. He slipped it back into the sheath and slid it back on his belt. He looked over you and you bent your arms to hide your chest. He shook his head and flicked your wrist.

“No need to be shy, doll,” he coaxed and unbuckled his belt. “I’m sure as hell not.”

He bit his lip as he undid his fly and rubbed the bulge along the front of his jeans. He groaned and stepped closer to you.

“Go on,” he nodded at himself.

You blinked at him. Your mouth opened and closed dumbly. You looked at his crotch and your arms fell from your chest. He tickled your cheek with his metal fingertips and inhaled deeply.

You touched the elastic of his briefs. You were shaking. You hooked your fingers under and pulled the fabric out. Your vision blurred as you uncovered him from beneath cotton and his thick cock bobbed before you. You rolled his underwear down with his jeans, just to his thighs. You stilled, unable to go on.

“Don’t tease me, doll,” he growled and grabbed the back of your head. “You are painfully good at that.”

You winced and touched his dick. It twitched and you wrapped your fingers around him entirely. You stroked him carefully and he groaned as his fingers caressed your scalp. He purred as your hand slid along his length and he drew you closer and closer.

“I want your mouth,” his hand snaked down to your chin and he rubbed your lip with his thumb.

He pushed his thumb in your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. He retracted his hand and pulled yours away from his dick. He gripped himself and grabbed your shoulder as he prodded your lips with his tip. You clamped your lips shut and looked up at him pleadingly. His eyes were smokey and unrelenting.

“Don’t make me tell you twice.” He rasped.

You closed your eyes and opened your mouth. Your lips stretched around his thick cock as he pushed inside and shuddered at the sensation. His hand went to your head again and he forced himself to your throat. You gagged but he barely seemed to notice as he plunged to his limit.

You could hardly breathe around him. Your throat contracted as you struggled for air and he held himself deep in your throat. His hands came up on either side of your head and his fingers swirled against your scalp. He groaned, long and low.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “Shit.”

He bucked his hips and you slapped at his forearm. He chuckled and did it again. Spit began to gather around his dick and coated your lips. Your head pounded as he thrust into you sharply. He dropped a hand down to your chest and groped your tit as his other kept your head against him.

You grasped at the front of his shirt as he fucked your face. Your toes curled and your eyes rolled back. You were dizzy from the lack of air and the steady rhythm of his dick sliding in and out of your throat.

“Doll, you’re so good,” he uttered and pinched your nipple, “So fucking good.”

He slammed into you and sent ripples down your spine. He spasmed and let out a brutish grunt as he gripped your jaw and the back of your head. You flailed helplessly as his voice rose around you and a sudden salty wave exploded down your throat and flooded your mouth.

“Fuck,” he slowed and twitched as slipped out of your mouth. He let you go and fell back on the bed as a ribbon of spit and sweat hung down your chin and you coughed up more.

He was adamant as he shoved your legs apart over the edge of the bed. You moaned as wiped your lips as you swallowed the last drops of cum. You nearly wretched and rubbed your throat shakily. You tried to close your legs but he quickly moved between them.

His thumb dragged along the thin crotch of your thong. He circled your clit and flicked so that you winced. You squeaked as he pressed more firmly and felt the satin slicken with your arousal.

You were humiliated and terrified. You reached up and looked at your phone on the night table. If you could get to it, what would you even say?

“Look at you,” he pulled the pants aside and slid his metal fingers along your fold, “You look so sweet.”

“Bucky,” your thighs tensed against him and he pinched you. “Please, no more…”

“You’re begging me to stop,” he played with your cunt with two fingers, “But I just don’t believe it.”

He pushed his thick vibranium digits inside of you without warning. He turned his hand as he slid deeper and rested his thumb against your clit. You cried out and your legs bent against the bed as you clutched at the duvet beneath you.

“You want it,” he moved his fingers in and out as he pressed down on your bud, “Just listen to you.”

You covered your face at the wet sounds of your cunt. He pushed deeper and curled his fingers and the heel of his hand replaced his thumb against your clit. He rocked his hand as his other traced the line of your pelvis. You clenched your teeth as a knot tied inside of you, pulling tighter and tighter and your skin buzzed.

“Come on, doll, almost there,” he moved his hand faster and you exclaimed. “Good girl, so close… so easy.”

He shook your entire body as he fingered you and the string inside you snapped. Your head lolled as you whined and you pushed your feet against his thighs. You felt a gush around his hand and he quickly released your clit and turned his hand as he covered it with his tongue instead. His fingers didn’t relent as he lapped you up and you rode out your orgasm against his face.

He didn’t stop. He kept his mouth on your clit and suckled as your thighs tingled. He shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. You were so full and overwrought, you could not help another orgasm as your walls clench around his fingers. He tried another and you whimpered. He removed his pinky again and groaned.

“Hmmm,” he purred as he replaced his thumb against your clit, “We have to loosen you up, doll.”

“Bu--” Your voice crackled and died in your throat as you came again. Again, he licked up your arousal and nuzzled your cunt as he slowly withdrew his hand.

“I’m trying to decide,” he lifted his head and stood clumsily. The stubble along his jaw glistened, his lips too. “You got such a pretty face but your ass…” He thought aloud as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You watched him undress as the haze kept your vision cloudy and reality seemed distant. You turned onto your side and clapped your thighs around your hand as echoes of pleasure flowed through you. Bucky’s thick muscle made you bite your lip as he stepped out of his jeans.

Your eyes found the scars across his flesh; those he had mentioned and others he hadn’t. Naked he bent and fished around beneath his jeans. You flinched at the whisper of metal. You murmured fearfully and sat up. You were dizzy and unable to get further than the foot of the bed.

“It’s okay, doll,” he cooed as he lifted the metal to his chest, “Just a little blood.”

He cut between his pecks, a red line left in the stead of his blade. He shivered and lowered the knife. He placed it behind him on the dresser as blood slowly seeped from the slice. He neared the bed and you pushed yourself away from him. He caught your ankle and dragged you to him as he climbed up.

“Come here,” he pulled you up as he sat on his heels and forced your legs around him. He took your hand and placed it against the gash. He dragged it across chest and smeared the blood in a sickly streak to his shoulder. “Can you feel me?”

You trembled as he kept you against him, his cock prodded you from below as turned your hand away from him. He bent all but two of your fingers and pushed them against your lips.

“Taste me,” he growled.

You shook your head dully and he pushed your fingers harder against your mouth. You parted your lips and the metallic flavour made your stomach flip. He shoved his fingers in over your and held them against your tongue.

His other hand slid along your ass and he lifted you slightly as he poked around blindly with his cock. His tip met your entrance and he eased you down. He impaled you and spread his fingers across your ass. As you settled atop him, he smacked you, hard, and curled his fingers over your own.

“How do I taste, doll?” He dropped his hand at last and your own fell with it. You stared at him aghast and he hugged you against him as he tilted his hips. “Tell me I taste good.”

He rocked below you and you moaned at the fullness. His hot blood spread along your chest as it leaked between your bodies. You resisted a tide of revulsion and swallowed the iron on your tongue.

“You…” you croaked, “...taste… good.”

He lifted you and pulled you back down sharply so your flesh clapped against his. You let out a cry of surprise and he did it again. He bounced you atop him and brought your arm around his neck, squeezing your upper arm as he nuzzled your neck.

“That’s it doll. I feel it.” He snarled, “You fit me so well.”

You mewled as you felt as if you would split in two. He was as big as Steve, maybe thicker, but you suspected it was more than that. He was rough where Steve was gentle, demanding where Steve was coaxing.

He fell onto you and pinned you to the mattress below him. He lifted your right leg and then your left, curling your body as he gripped your ankles against his shoulders. The lines of his stomach were limned in his blood and your own was painted red. He raised himself on his knees and carefully planted his feet. He kept your ass in the air as he hammered into you, your shoulders sinking into the mattress as your weight settled on your neck.

He dipped into you and his metal hand stretched over your pelvis and his thumb flicked your clit. He sped up as you reached out with your arms to ease the pressure in your neck and shoulders, the noise of your flesh was sickening and the smell of blood more so. He gripped your thigh with his other hand and sank his nail into your flesh.

You bit your lip and muffled the pathetic cry of pleasure that rose from your core. Your climaxed violently and convulsed against him, your body contorted to his use. He curled you further and placed his hands on either side of your head. He jolted into you as his hot breath filled the space between you. He growled as he came and filled you with his release.

He stilled only as you felt his cum seeping out around his cock. He dropped back to his knees and your body went limp. He slid in and out of you a few times before he pulled out completely. He stirred his cum with his tip and breathed heavily through his nose.

He poked his finger inside of you suddenly and felt around. He buried himself to his knuckles and slowly drew back. Another gush of his cum dripped down your cunt and played with it as he smeared it along your folds and down your thighs.

He raised his hand to his lips and sucked his finger clean. He sighed as he moved to the edge of the bed and checked the time on your phone. He smirked as he stood and stretched. You rolled onto your side and watched him collect his clothes from the floor.

“What a mess you made,” he taunted as he dressed, “Better clean this up before your old man returns.” He buckled his belt and replaced his kabar in its sheath. He took Steve’s phone and tucked it in his back pocket. “I’ll give this back to him tomorrow. I got some cleaning up of my own to do.”

[pinkdoodoofart]

Why are You Here? Jotaro x Reader Pt. 1

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

As a twenty-one-year-old mother, you opted to become a housewife. Taking care of household chores and your newborn baby, Jolyne while your husband, Jotaro worked as a marine biologist. Life for you was like that for about eight years till you thought about doing something else with your life. So after some thinking and debating with yourself, you decided to go to college and major in Veterinary Science. As a child, you had always wanted to be a veterinarian as your interest in animals and worrying about their safety was always prominent in your life. So bringing that dream to life after twenty years brought you joy and excitement. So here you were, up at 5:00 AM, laying in your king-sized bed alone preparing to get up for your first day at Palm Beach Atlantic University. Looking to the empty left side of the bed that was missing your husband left you a little dejected. You were hoping you would have woken up early enough to get ready with him. Yawning to yourself, you get up and heads toward the bathroom to freshen up. Setting the shower to the right temperature, you stepped instead and felt more awake than ever. While inside the shower, you started thinking about how college was going to be like. 'What if it's similar to high school? That was hell enough...' you thought in distress. Sighing to yourself, you fixated on finishing your shower and thought about getting ready to distract you from your nerve-wracking thoughts. After your shower, you quickly brushed your teeth and made your way downstairs to a big surprise. There he was, your husband, Jotaro in the kitchen making a cup of coffee. Now, Jotaro knew you were going to college as he helped pay for your tuition even though you said not to. He also knew you were going to one he was teaching at as he also recommended it to you. But what he didn’t know was that she was in one of his classes.

“Oh, Jojo! I thought you had already left," you exclaimed, hastily entering the kitchen to stand next to your husband. Grunting to himself his usual catchphrase, he looked at you before slightly grinning.

“I don’t leave the house as early as you think I do you. Besides I was going to give you a ride because we are going to the same place.” Blushing to yourself, a quiet thanks left your lips before you gave Jotaro a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Okay I need to make breakfast,’ nodding to yourself as to agree with your thoughts, you started to make your way towards the stove to make a simple breakfast of eggs and bacon for you and your husband to eat.

“Jotaro can you also make me a cup of coffee as well?” You asked, which in response you got a grunt that sounded like a yeah. After you finished making breakfast, you set up the dining room table with two plates of food while Jotaro brought the two cups of coffee. Both of you started to sit down and enjoy your meals. Even though Jotaro opted to eat in silence, you certainly did not. “Jojo, I hired a nanny to take care of Jolyne while I go to college and she will be staying with us in the guest bedroom until then.” Humming in response, Jotaro continued to eat, not knowing what else to respond with. Slightly huffing, you were hoping your husband would give you a little more attention and talk to you a little more. ‘Asking questions will only annoy him’ you thought. Realizing your attempts would be feeble, she just decided to stay silent and finish eating. Once the couple was finished, you took the plates into the kitchen to wash them with Jotaro not too far behind you. While washing the dishes, you could feel your husband come behind and hold you gently.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, kissing your cheek. Blushing again just like last time, you looked up at Jotaro with slight confliction.

“Just a little Joots. I mean I haven’t been to school in what? Eight years?” Sighing to yourself, you continued to wash the dishes. Rubbing your arms in response, Jotaro reassures you in his special way that she will be fine. After their little intimate moment, you check the clock to notice it's 6:15 AM and remembers to call the nanny. Detaching yourself from your husband, you made your way towards a wall phone in the kitchen and quickly dialed up the nanny’s number. The phone rang for a little while before the sound of the lady was heard. “Hi Anastasia, I just wanted to let you know you can come over now.”

‘Oh thank you! I will be there in about ten-fifteen minutes.’ Anastasia responded. Grinning to yourself, you quickly responded with a thank you of your own and a quick goodbye before hanging up. Turning around, you saw that your husband had left the kitchen. Confused, you leave the kitchen in search of your husband to find him sitting on the couch of their living room with papers in front of him. Slowly you walked up to him and sat next to him before latching onto his arm. “I got off the phone with the nanny, she should be here in a little bit.” Humming in response, Jotaro looks down at his wife for a few seconds before looking back at his disorganized paperwork. Noticing how unorganized the papers were, you offered to help but in response, you were given a quick no before he started to ignore you and continue organizing. Huffing slightly, you opted to make sure you had everything you needed before you could head out the door. Now noticing you left your bag upstairs, you quickly ran up the stairs to the master bedroom to retrieve it. Although before entering, you quickly checked your daughter Jolyne's room to check on you to make sure she was okay. Just as suspected, Jolyne was still in bed asleep surrounded by all you aquatic stuffed animals. Smiling to yourself, you quietly closed the door and quickly grabbed your bag from your shared bedroom. Running down the steps and looking through a bag probably wasn’t the smartest choice for you. Causing you to miss a step on the stairs and trip. But surprisingly, you didn't fall and neither did your stuff fall out of your bag. Feeling hands on the sides of your waist, you look over your shoulder, you noticed a tall purple ghost-like figure behind you. “Hehe, thank you star,” you giggled while walking down the stairs carefully. Finally reaching the living room from the stairs, you noted your husband staring at you intensely with concern.

“You alright?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. Nodding slightly embarrassed by the small situation that occurred only a few minutes ago. Looking at the pastel blue clock in the corner of the room showed that it was 6:45 AM. ‘Shit… Where is she?’ thinking to yourself with slight frustration. Although not even 10 seconds after you ’s little tantrum in your mind, she heard a knock at the front door. Blinking slightly, you quickly ran through the living room to the front door to see the one person she needed to be there.

“I am so sorry I’m late, I got sidetracked a little.” Chuckling a little bit, you reassured her and invited her inside. Giving a quick tour of the downstairs of their house. A few compliments were thrown in for the decor and a few thanks before they reached the living room that held your cold and stoic husband.

“This is my husband Jotaro. Jojo this Anastasia, the nanny.” Turning his attention to the short lady he gave you a little nod before picking up the rest of his paperwork. Blushing to herself, Anastasia hastily said hello trying to make herself look professional and also slightly seductive for the man in front of her. There was no doubt in your mind that the nanny would think your husband was hot. I mean almost every woman did. “Alright Jolyne is upstairs asleep so please wake you up around seven-seven thirty, please. There also should be a list of things for you to do in the kitchen on the counter. If you have any questions, my number is on the list as well.” Anastasia nodded taking in the information given while also taking small glances towards the big man standing up. “Alright, thank you so much again. Jojo, we should get ready to leave.” Humming in response the couple started for the front door towards Jotaro’s white SUV. Sitting in the passenger seat, bag in hands, you felt a flurry of emotions consisting of excitement, worry, and also determination. The drive to the university wasn’t that long because they live close to the beach anyway. Unbuckling his seatbelt on the driver's side, Jotaro exited the car waiting for his wife in suit. Noting that she didn’t he sighed out a ‘yare yare’ before walking to the passenger’s door and opened it for his wife.

“Hey, you’ll be fine.” Looking up at your husband, you sighed and got out.

“I know I know, just first-day jitters.” Receiving a hum in response once again, you kissed Jotaro quickly on the lips smiling,” I’ll see you during lunch?” Nodding, Jotaro reciprocated the kiss and started walking towards the university, with you not too far behind him. Entering the building, you noticed that your husband was nowhere to be found and she was left all alone. Opting to ask someone, you slowly walked up to a tall woman with fair skin and freckles. Red hair to your shoulders and green eyes that are as green as leaves on a tree. “Um, excuse me…” you asked the fair lady. Turning to the voice that called out to you she looked down and smiled.

“Yes, is there something you need?” Looking down for a second, you blushed in embarrassment,” Um I’m new here and just needed some help finding some of my classes if that won’t be a problem.” Smiling again, the taller girl agreed to help, making the shorter girl happy. “Here’s my schedule…” Looking over it the taller of the two looked very pleased.

“Ahhhh! Surprisingly we’re in some of the same classes. Looks like it’s your lucky day hehe. I’m Esme by the way.” you smiled thankfully to meet someone nice before sharing your name. “So it seems like our first class is Microbiology.” As if thinking for a moment, Esme continued to study your schedule before smiling softly. “Are you by any chance going into Veterinary Science?” Quickly looking up at her, you smiled brightly and nodded with excitement.

“Yes yes! I’ve always wanted to help and take care of animals ever since I was a little girl.” Eyes lighting up in admiration and excitement, Esme grabbed you ’s hands and jumped up and down with the excitement of a 6-year-old before saying, “Ahhh no way me too!!! Animals are just so cute, it breaks my heart seeing them injured.” you nodded in agreement before looking at a clock on a far wall of the University. Almost not being able to read it, you read what looked like said 7:36. Eyes widening, you quickly ask Esme to take you to their class before they are late. Noting your rushing tone, Esme realized they might be late. Nodding in response, Esme led you to their first-period class.

Barely making it, both you and Esme make their way towards some seats in the back next to each other. Once they sat down, you took into inventory how the lecture hall looked. Very spacious, but also very bland. Grey walls with a basic faded carpet floor. Rows of long wooden desks with a set of wooden stairs in the middle.

“Ahem.” Eyes forward you notice a man who looked to be in his 40s standing in front of the class in a nice white dress shirt, black dress pants, and nice black shoes. “My name is Mr. Brando, and I will be your Microbiology teacher this year.” Feeling an elbow jab to my side, you quickly turned to see Esme leaning over to say something, “He’s kinda hot.” Gasping slightly to yourself, you looked towards Emse with disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna try and fuck him or something.” Slightly taken aback, Esme scoffs while blushing.

“Of course not! He’s just kinda hot..” Shaking your head, you turned to face Mr. Brando, only to find him staring at you intensely.

“As I was trying to say, I’m not going to be easy on you. This isn’t high school anymore where I would take pity on you. If you don’t have your homework, it will be an automatic 0.” Still staring at you with his intense gaze, he smirked and continued, “Any questions before we begin class?” ‘Why is he staring at me like that?’ you thought with a shiver running down your back. With no questions being asked, Mr. Brando started class. Two words went through your thoughts, ‘This sucks…’ Sighing, she continued to take notes and tough it out till class was over. While taking notes she couldn't help but feel eyes on you every 5 minutes. Looking up, you noticed Mr. Brando’s eyes are on you again before going back to looking at his notes. Noting your discomfort, Esme nudged you in a way to ask if she's okay. ‘God this is such a high school thing but whatever.’ you thought before ripping a piece of paper and wrote, ‘Mr. Brando keeps looking at me.’ Passing the note towards Esme, you looked at your face for any reactions. Going from shocked to disgusted. Looking at you with sympathy, Esme flipped the small piece of paper over and started writing your response. Once she was finished, Esme handed the note back and looked at Mr. Brando with intense dislike. Different from when she was practically gushing over his looks. Looking down at the note, you ’s (E/C) scanned the paper reading, ‘Yeah we have a few of those types of teachers. If he does anything, report him immediately.’ Nodding to yourself, you continued listening to the lesson.

The class was finally over. ‘God that was boring.’ you thought before packing up quickly to leave.

“C’mon we gotta hurry to our next class,” Esme exclaimed. Nodding while giggling, you grabbed your bag and walked down the stairs towards the door of the lecture hall with Esme.

“I noticed that this is your first year of college. I hope you enjoy it~.” Freezing, you turned around to see Mr. Brando stared at you with red eyes and a small smirk on his light brown skin.

“Um, thank you, Mr. Brando...” Grabbing your arm, Esme dragged you out of the room, feelings of disgust running through her. Once out, Esme immediately gagged.

“God what a weirdo. Why do the hot ones have to be creeps,” Esme whined. You weren't not paying attention to your newly acquired friend. Instead, you were more focused on why Mr. Brando kept staring at you in such an eerie way. Shaking your head to remove the bothersome thoughts, you continued walking to your next class.

Your next few classes weren’t that bad and some were pretty enjoyable. So now, you are heading out to have lunch with your husband.

“How was the first part of the day?” asked Jotaro. Feeling a small shudder shoot through your body, you looked at your husband with a slightly disturbed face.

“Well, I have a creepy Microbiology teacher. He stares at me a lot and says if I need any help ask him.”

“Who’s your Microbiology teacher,” Jotaro asked with his grip tightening around his plastic fork. Staring at his fist, you responded with the name that your husband dreaded the most. In just a matter of seconds, the fork snapped in half and the gaze from your husband made you shrink back a little. “If he does anything, and I mean anything, you tell me alright?”. With a nod, you continued to eat and talk about the rest of your classes she had so far.

Once finished, you kissed your husband goodbye and went to your second to last class. Entering the room of organic chemistry. Sighing, you decided to sit in the front so she could get to the door faster. ‘I can’t wait for my next class,’ smiling to yourself closed and closing your eyes imagining what might happen. A few scenarios were bad and some were good. Though she was just going to have to wait patiently.

“Hello class, I am Mr. Kakyoin. I will be your organic chemistry teacher this year,” a familiar voice said. Looking up, your eyes widened at the sight of your teacher.

“Noriaki?” you asked. The said person turned towards you with wide eyes and a smile.

“Y/N! It's good to see you! Let’s talk after class.” Nodding in response, you quickly started to engage in the lesson.

'My willpower to stay awake is scampering away... this is so boring.' You thought with disinterest. "And that concludes our lesson for today. Any questions?" Mr. Kakyoin finished with a smile. Noting the silence, he looked around to see almost his whole class looked bored. Sighing to himself, Mr. Kakyoin looked towards the class and said, “Just wait for the bell I guess.” Once the bell has rung, all the students except yourself have left the room to go to their next class. Walking over to Mr. Kakyoin’s desk, you grinned widely.

“It’s been so long Kakyoin!” Getting up from his seat, Kakyoin made his way towards you and gave you a tight hug.

“Y/N, we’ve been friends for years, call me by my first name.” Chuckling to yourself, you nodded in response. “So how have you been anyways?”

“Pretty good. I’m majoring in Veterinary Science. I would have gone to college sooner, but I had Jolyne earlier than expected… But I’m happy she’s here regardless. A bundle of joy is what she is! Anyways how about you Noriaki,” you rambled. Chuckling to himself, Noriaki responded, “You still haven’t changed huh Y/N? Still a rambler. I have been well, I’m married with a child on the way.” Eyes widening, you grab onto Noriaki in excitement, “Congratulations Noriaki! I’m so happy for you! How many months?”

“She’s about 4 months in.” The conversation continued on for what felt like hours before both realized you had to leave. “Here let me write you a pass. I had fun talking to you.”

“Thank you Noriaki, here take my number. We need to hang out more. Bye bye!” You responded before rushing off to find your next to class.

Finally making it, you stepped inside and saw what you have been the whole day to see. Your stoic husband.

“Why are you here?” Jotaro asked. Giggling to yourself you respond cheerfully, “This is my last clas….”

“Why are you late?” Feeling irked by being cut off, you respond again but this time with slight irritation, “I was talking with another teacher.”

“Yare Yare, take a seat.” Listening to the simple order, you sit down in a seat next to a cute looking girl in the front. You sadly, missed the first half of the lesson meaning you were already behind. ‘Great… I’m most likely gonna have an earful after this class,’ you thought to yourself. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you turn to see the girl you decided to sit next to you staring at you intensely.

“Um, can I help you?” You whispered.

“I don’t know how you guys know each other? but I want to let you know that he’s mine.” Rolling your eyes, you nodded in response before paying attention to the lesson. ‘Damn my husband and god-like appearance.’

Another class that was a bore to be in.

“Does anyone have any questions?” Jotaro asked. Once again, a silence room of college students was what he received in response. Sighing in response, he waved them off and waited for the bell.

Once the bell had rung, everyone except you once again had left for the day. While you were still packing up, you jumped slightly to hands slamming down on your desk.

“Why the hell are you in my class?”

“Calm down Joots, I just chose this class because I need another credit…. and maybe because I wanted to see my husband at the end of the day…” Sighing in response, your husband looked at you before heading towards his desk and grabbing his stuff and heading out the door. “Waaaaah wait for me Joots!” You run out of the room only to bump into a muscular chest.

“Yare Yare, let’s just go home.”

Heading towards the car, you both get into your respectable seats and head home. The car ride was silent, but you can tell your husband is still not so thrilled about you being in his class. But knowing you, trying to change your mind to choose a different class would be feeble.

Once home, you both entered the house and was immediately greeted with a big hug.

“Welcome home mommy and daddy!” exclaimed Jolyne. Smiling brightly you hugged Jolyne back before walking towards the living room seeing Anastasia with Jolyne’s homework on the coffee table completed.

“Welcome home Mr. and Mrs. Kujo.”

“Thank you, how was Jolyne?” You asked.

“Oh she was wonderful. An absolute sweetheart. By the way, I have made dinner and it’s in the kitchen if you want to eat.” Thanking her once more you head upstairs to your shared bedroom to drop off your school stuff and sit on your bed exhausted. Hearing the bedroom door open, you see your husband standing there as exhausted as you.

“Look Joots, I’m sorry about me being in your class, but I'm not changing classe….”

“I'm not going to give you an advantage because you're my wife. I hope you know that.” Huffing in annoyance you respond with a quick yeah.

‘This is going to be harder than I thought.’

This is honestly pretty old and im probably going heavily edit it but i hope you enjoy the first part of this story.

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: Save me

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: what’s gonna happen if we lock them together for some time...?

warnings: some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+ 

author’s note: 4,8k words, just because I thought I needed to add more plot to it because you wanted 2 shorter chapters instead of a longer one. Who’s laughing now? 

Reading this may cause a slight whiplash. Sorry, not sorry. 

song for this chapter: Aimee Mann - Save me 

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

----

The Protagonist’s eyes darted at Ives. 

“And what did she say?”

“Short answer? Nunya,” Ives shrugged, closing the door behind him.

Wheeler giggled and TP looked at her in confusion.

“Long answer,” continued Ives, joining the other two by the coffee machine, “is that as long as they're doing their job, it doesn’t matter who they are fucking in their free time.”

“And are they?”

“What, fucking? I thought we’ve already--”

“No, doing their job,” TP pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I have a mission for them, but it requires locking them together for a significant amount of time.”

Wheeler took a sip from her cup. “If they don’t bond, they’ll bone, and I’d say it’s better than killing each other.”

Ives snorted, clearly amused, but TP hid his face in his palms and groaned lightly.

“Was that your plan all along?”

Wheeler gave them an innocent smile. “Wasn’t yours?” she asked, and as she caught the exchange of looks, her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome.”

-----

You found the car parked near the front door and you had to admit - that grey-ish sedan was the dullest, most ordinary vehicle you’d seen in a while. And that’s why it was perfect.

Neil tossed you the keys and proceeded to load your bags into the trunk. You went to check the GPS setting. The total route was calculated for a little over 5 hours, which gave you enough time to go over the details of the assignment at least once on the way there.

As your mission partner took the passenger seat, you handed him the tablet with all the documents loaded up and ready to go. He nodded, fortunately sparing you the small talk and unnecessary comments, and started reading through them out loud as you followed the GPS directions to your destination.

What you didn’t expect was an almost insultingly short length of reports from the previous stakeout teams, and even a slightly more detailed operation brief was not enough to keep you occupied for too long. Exhausting all the work-related topics, you tensed, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence between the two of you. Especially since you caught Neil’s stare, because if his furrowed brows could be any indication, you had a feeling he might start asking way too many questions any minute now. 

As the radio crackled again, you groaned in frustration. There were still two hours left of traveling through the middle of nowhere, and you’d appreciate any distraction that wouldn’t make you want to drive into the nearest tree. Unlike talking to your partner. 

Neil opened the glove compartment and searched through its contents. He found a thick CD case and started flipping through pages curiously. With the corner of your eye, you saw a grin lighting his face when he finally picked one. 

As you heard the familiar piano notes, your knuckles on the steering wheel turned white. Oh, fuck no.

You glared at Neil, who was gently swaying his head, eyes closed, fighting himself to keep a straight face. When the lyrics started, he pressed his palms to his chest right over his heart and looked at you as he mouthed the words.

//When I was young

I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun

Those days are gone//

You gritted your teeth and focused back on the road, trying to keep in check the rising anger already boiling the blood in your veins, as Neil was clearly feeling the song more and more with every line.

Well, at least this time he wasn’t--...

And then just as the chorus was about to hit, Neil mimicked the opening drum sequence and spread his arms wide, singing along:

//All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself

Anymore//

“If you don’t change that fucking song in the next 10 seconds, be ready to walk all the way to the city--...”

“Come on, it’s a classic!” he complained, the biggest smile not leaving his face even for a moment.

You smacked your tongue, finding your most casual voice, “...and I’m not gonna be bothered with pulling over.”

Neil turned down the volume so the music was barely audible, and while it was not what you’d asked him to do, he didn’t give you a chance to scold him. 

“I bet you’ve spent at least one evening listening to that song with a big box of ice cream on your lap,” he smirked, closely watching your reaction to his words.

You could feel your ears burning. Fucking hell, you really hated his guts.

“No,” you scoffed, but even you were not convinced by the sound of that. Judging by Neil’s expression, neither was he. You winced and groaned, ”...shut up!” 

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” - he shrugged - “been there, done that.” 

“Of course you have,” you couldn’t help but snicker at the image planted in your head.��

The blue eyes studied you for a while longer before focusing back at the view outside the window. Meanwhile, the song ended, getting replaced by an instrumental track. You turned the volume up and for the next minute or two, you drove in silence. 

When you heard a light chuckle, you glanced at Neil again. There was something peculiar in the look on his face, a soft gaze in contrast to a knowing grin.

You sighed.

“Do I wanna know what you’re grinning about now?”

Neil raised a brow and his lips parted in an even wider smile.

“Probably not.”

You shook your head, drawing a long breath, wondering how you were going to survive the next forty-something hours together. You could just hope that being at the actual location and starting the real work was going to make it easier. 

Grounding yourself, you stared into the darkness stepping back under the car’s headlights as dusk slowly turned into night. You noticed a faint glow of city lights reflecting in the clouds over the horizon and you relaxed slowly, tuning out anything other than the road ahead. 

Just as the CD player jumped back to the first song again and you switched to a local radio station, now clear of static, you realized your companion had been unusually quiet for the last half an hour. You looked at the passenger seat only to find Neil deep in his sleep and your heart started beating a little faster. Suddenly, everything about the sight seemed endearing - the peaceful face under the ruffled blonde hair, the slightly open mouth almost hidden behind the turned-up collar of the dark navy jacket, the way he wrapped his arms around himself in a little self-hug…

Your lips curled into a fond smile and as your chest clenched painfully, you turned the radio down, wishing you could do the same thing to your feelings just as easily.

-----------

The second you pulled over in the alley at the back of the abandoned hotel, two figures emerged from the door and rushed in your direction. You recognized the fellow agents and jumped out of the car to make the exchange as smooth as possible. 

“Ten-minute window until the patrol comes back,” you said to a short brunette, taking your bags out of the trunk and passing her the car keys.

“Got it,” she nodded, handing you the room key in return. “Our report should be ready before we reach HQ, I will send it to you ASAP.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that the lack of an easy escape plan is intentional,” said Neil as he grabbed one of the bags and looked around.

“But it is,” you shrugged, walking into the building and heading to the nearest staircase. “No loose ends. You’re either good enough to make it out undiscovered and alive, or you get revealed and --...”

“...and then even having the cavalry on call is not going to make a difference, I get it,’ he sighed, matching your two-steps-at-once pace up the stairs, “Can’t say I like it, though.” 

“So let’s try not to do anything stupid so we don’t get caught, shall we?”

A corner of your lips twitched as you heard him scoff at your remark, but to your surprise, he didn’t take the bait. Huh.

When you reached the room, you turned the lock and looked around, taking mental note of the location of every piece of equipment left by the previous team - two cameras, night vision binoculars, and a parabolic microphone placed by the windows. Some parts of the blinds on the windows were broken, others were missing, but the remaining parts still provided a decent cover from the curious eyes peeking up from street level. Other than that, the room was exactly what you would expect from a stakeout location - peeled-off wallpapers of an undefined color, a small table with an electric kettle, a couple of chairs, a mini-fridge, and a mattress. 

As you went to check the last few minutes registered by the camera, Neil started unpacking the supplies. Seeing nothing interesting on the feed, you grabbed one of the water bottles he’d just put on the table and took a seat by the window, your usual first-hour-of-stakeout enthusiasm fending off the tiredness you felt after the long drive.

Neil took a laptop and sat on a chair at the other window, alternating glancing outside and typing in a message to TP with a quick update on your situation.

Your main objective was to observe the building on the other side of the street, especially one loft that was suspected to be a meeting place for one of the smuggling cells’ bosses. Snapping photos of the vehicles pulling over, of the visitors, and reporting any odd activity straight ahead. The usual. But it was past midnight already and your targets were having a pretty quiet night, apparently. 

As Neil finished filing in the paperwork, he stretched his arms and groaned.

“Tea?”

You rubbed your eyes, a sudden wave of sleepiness flooded your brain as soon as you lost focus on the mission. 

“Yes, please, there should be a box with a green one somewhere.”

“Ah, pity, I don’t know how well it’s gonna mix with the biscuits,” said Neil in a ridiculous posh accent, making you facepalm in response. 

Partially, to hide an amused smile. 

You really were that tired, huh?

“I take my tea with no sugar, no biscuits, and no snarky comments, thanks,” you huffed as your eyes followed him to the table.

“I, too, don’t like talking over a cuppa.”

“What did I just say--” you groaned, smacking your thigh in frustration.

Neil giggled and rolled his eyes, now lit by a playful twinkle. “All right, one ‘green tea no bullshit’ coming right up.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, glancing up to the ceiling as if it was supposed to help with the alarming level of annoyance in your system.

Less than two hours on-site and you already wanted to strangle him. 

Among other things.

And before you could stop your tired brain, it brought up a memory of that karaoke night. 

His hands roaming through your body. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. Your frantic gasp when you felt him inside you. His firm grip on your hips. The heart racing in your chest. Your longing body pressing itself into him even further. His uneven breath on your neck. The quickening pace of his thrusts. Your eyes squeezing shut. His muffled moan when you tugged at his hair. The cold wall against your cheek. Your fingers interlocked. His arm wrapped around you tightly. The things whispered into your ear---

“Your tea.”

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking rapidly and focusing your gaze on a thermal cup in front of your face. “Oh, thanks.”

Neil studied your expression curiously, a sly grin hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Pleasant daydream?”

“Maybe,” you sent him a smug smile and raised a brow.

His lips parted slightly at the implication. Drinking his tea, he schooled his features and sat back on the chair. 

You spent the next moments enjoying the hot beverages, the silence becoming more comfortable with every sip you took. But as the time went by and you ran out of tea, the peacefulness turned into boredom. 

Finally, Neil shuffled in his seat and turned your way. 

"We should play a game."

Even though it sounded tempting, you didn’t trust those roguish sparks in his eyes. 

“We already had a chance to play ‘yellow car’,” - you shrugged - “not my fault you chose a nap instead.”

His puzzled face gave you a hint he didn’t get the reference. Pity.

“I was thinking about some sort of...questions game,” he said and cleared his throat, shifting in his chair again. "To get to know each other better."

"Why?" you stared at him with your mouth open, suddenly taken aback. 

He gave you a half-smile. "Don't you think it's weird that the only thing I know about you is all the ways to turn you on and piss you off?"

"Wouldn't be so confident about that ‘all’ part…" you huffed and lost a train of thought as you spotted the familiar flare in his gaze.

"You’re sure you wanna challenge me like that right now?"

A cold shiver ran down your spine at the way his voice got lower. You gritted your teeth as your mind started racing to find a way out of the dangerous waters. 

"Aren't you a master of multitasking?" you teased, batting your eyelashes.

"And aren't you scared of having an actual conversation?" Neil narrowed his eyes and grimaced slightly. 

"Fine!” you fumed as you tossed your hands in the air in defeat. “Why don’t you get straight to the point because I have a weird feeling you have a very specific question in mind."

A silence that dropped after your words was heavy and you realized you’d made a mistake.

"Actually, I do,” he said, tilting his head and locking his gaze on you. “What's up with you and kissing?"

...shit, walked right into that one, huh? 

You pulled one leg up on the chair, glancing outside the window to avoid the blue eyes boring into you. "It's nothing."

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.”

Sighing, you rested the chin on your knee and wrapped your arms around it, as if that little bit of comfort was enough to make the conversation easier. Your ears were burning, your heart pounded heavily in the clenched chest, and it all was only adding to your frustration. Because it really was nothing. Or maybe it should have been, and that was the issue.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it--”

Your eyes darted at Neil only to meet his soft look. A shadow of concern on his face wasn’t helping, but you were grateful that he was willing to give you a way out.

Although at that moment, you felt you owed him an explanation. 

“No, it’s just that it’s a bit silly,” you said, wincing. “I’m gonna tell you, but if you laugh, I will murder you in your sleep.”

Neil smiled lightly in encouragement.

“Got it.”

So you took a deep breath and squeezed the first word past the lump in your throat.

“It’s just that kissing to me was always something… special,” you cringed, fully aware that you sounded like a flustered teenager. “Like it really meant something. Do you know where I’m going with this?”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good,” you sighed, forcing yourself to breathe again. “And some time ago, I made a mistake and opened up too soon, burning myself. Fuck, it’s pathetic, I know, I just…” you hesitated and looked away, feeling the rising panic. You were exposing yourself, again. “...maybe I’m just wired that way and we should leave it at that. And never talk about it again,” your voice was hollow, the result of your brain’s desperate attempts to keep your emotions bottled up, just to keep you safe. 

And after what felt like forever--

“Okay.”

You shot him a thankful look, too overwhelmed to say anything. 

Neil got up, moving his shoulders in small circles to get rid of the stiffness. As he walked by you on his way to the bathroom, he patted your arm lightly. Reassuringly. The tip of your nose tingled and you bit the inside of your cheek, cursing a sudden wave of softness clouding your mind.  

A few minutes passed and Neil was back. He fell on the chair heavily, slowly massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers. Catching a question in your stare, he shook his head and grinned.

“What?” you asked, squinting suspiciously.

Neil chuckled, leaning back and spreading his legs. “Trying to figure you out is giving me a headache.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, focusing on the view outside the window. 

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things, you know.”

“So it’s all an act?”

You looked back at him, suddenly perplexed. “What is?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely in your direction and shrugged. “Or rather your usual behavior.”

You snorted. “Oh, I am a real ray of sunshine, but somehow being around you makes my inner bitch jump out,” you teased, meeting his amused gaze. A corner of your lips curled and you exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, after some time you learn life is easier that way, and at one point the line blurs,” you stopped for a second and frowned, wondering what had gotten into you tonight. “Does it make any sense to you?”

Something new tainted Neil’s features as he looked away, smiling sadly.

“You have no idea.”

Just as you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, the blue eyes darted back at you.

“I’ll take the first shift, already had my nap after all,” the little laugh escaping his mouth felt forced. “You must be exhausted. Try to get some sleep.”

Oh you were exhausted, all right. But all of the sudden it felt as if he wanted to get rid of you and you couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by that. There was something in his presence that gave you a hint that it wasn’t the best idea to pressure him about it now, and you slumped your shoulders, nodding.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, getting up. All that held-back fatigue was going to hit you in full force any minute now, and you really wanted to be laid down by then.

A few moments in the bathroom and you were back in the room again in more comfortable clothes. You rolled out a sleeping bag on the mattress and slipped into it, covering your mouth as you let out a small yawn. 

“Wake me up if anything happens or you need me to take over, will you?”

Neil shot you a quick look from his chair. 

“Sure thing,” he gave you a weak smile. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumbled. 

You curled up and closed your eyes, hoping the heaviness you felt in your chest would be gone by the morning.

--------

It took your still half-asleep brain a moment to remember where you were and what was going on. You looked around as much as you could without moving your body to avoid revealing that you were no longer asleep. Oh right, the stakeout. 

You noticed Neil sitting on the floor by the only floor-to-ceiling window near the corner of the room, looking outside. The early morning light seeping through the blinds was reflecting in the disheveled blonde hair, a fitting addition to his overall tired appearance. It seemed like he’d spent most of the night working through whatever bothered him after your last talk, but he seemed more at peace now. You studied him in a little moment of sleep-deprived self-indulgence, musing over the dark quarter zip pullover, those absurdly long legs in khaki pants--...

Okay, enough. You sat up, rubbing your face.

“How’s the mattress?”

Hearing Neil’s raspy voice made you quite tempted to invite him over to check for himself.

“Passable,” you replied instead, stretching your arms and wriggling out of your sleeping bag. You nodded at the cameras. “Anything?” 

“Not really. One visitor, already on the list,” he said as his eyes followed you around the room.

“All right,” you sighed, flipping the switch on the kettle. “I need coffee, you want some?”

“No, thank you, but if you could pass me a bottle of water--”

You grabbed one and tossed it to him, heading to the bathroom. 

When you finally looked and felt like a decent human being again, you went back to finish making coffee. As you walked to the windows with the thermal cup in your hands, you caught Neil’s resigned stare. You sat down on the floor in front of him, leaning your shoulder against the wall. A glimpse of internal battle clouded his features and you tilted your head, waiting for him to speak up first.

“I didn’t want this,” he blurted out, and when nothing else followed the statement, you cleared your throat. 

“You have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

Neil clenched his jaw. You noticed a hint of frustration in his eyes, but then his shoulders dropped and he let out a nervous chuckle, fastening his gaze on the view outside the window.

“I wanted to do things by the book. When TP recruited me… I thought I’d be just another field agent and I was okay with that,” he sighed and grimaced. “But he insisted on fast-tracking me, even when I told him it wasn’t fair to the rest of you.” Neil shook his head slowly and a corner of his lips twitched. “He promised me one of his best agents’ help on the way though. Imagine my surprise when the agent in question kept snarling at me and shoving me around instead.” 

When Neil looked back at you, you realized the meaning behind his words and your mind went blank. You stared into the blue eyes with your mouth open, trying to process everything you’d just heard and its implications.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you breathed out, feeling light-headed.

“Why?”

“Nobody told you…?” you asked, but his confused expression was his only answer. And you simply couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known all this time. “I’d been working my ass off for that position,” you huffed, studying his reaction to your words closely. “And then you showed up.”

Neil’s face dropped as he finally connected all the dots. “Fuck...I had no idea, I’m sorry.” 

Seeing his sincere look, you sighed, raking fingers through your hair. Fucking hell, what a mess. The impossible mix of emotions swirled inside you and you giggled hysterically, suddenly finding the whole situation absolutely hilarious. 

“And I had no idea I was supposed to babysit you,” you said as you stretched your legs, positioning them alongside Neil’s. 

“Thought we were having a moment here,” he scoffed, smiling lightly.

You smirked and tapped his thigh with your foot.

“Think again.”

Neil tapped you back, stifling a chuckle. “You’re insufferable.”

“Too bad you can’t do anything about that now, huh,” you teased, wiggling your brows as you nibbled at your bottom lip.

The blue eyes lit up. “Just you wait till we finish the job,” he said slowly and placed a hand on your ankle.

But before you could respond, you heard a phone alert and Neil jumped at his feet.

He read the message quickly. 

“Seems like we are about to see some action after all,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear. You downed your coffee and joined Neil by the table.

“Hold on, I’m gonna put you on speaker… okay, now”

“Hope you two are rested,” TP’s voice filled the room. “We intercepted a phone call. Our target is expecting a delivery in the next hour or so. Significant enough that from this moment on, the mission objective changes.” You exchanged looks with Neil, knowing well what was coming next. You walked back to the windows to keep an eye on the street. “We have a chance to prevent this shipment from spreading to different sellers. I’m sending the cavalry your way. But you’ll need to assess the situation as it progresses.”

“Means we might have to engage early, got it.”

“It’s your call, Neil. And as we have enough intel now… no loose ends. Good luck.” said TP and hung up.

Neil tossed the phone on the table and dashed to the bags to prep the equipment. You noticed movement in the loft across the street and snapped a few pictures before looking back at your partner.

“Are you good to go? You haven’t slept tonight.”

He glanced at you and gave you a smug smile. 

“How nice of you to worry about me.”

You could feel the usual annoyance mixed with a new emotion, but maybe you were just glad to be back on familiar waters.

“Nah, I’m worried about the mission,” you snorted. “Especially if we may end up going in there alone.”

“I’m okay. How does it look out there?”

You looked outside again and tensed as a van appeared at the end of the street. “We’ve got company.”

Neil changed you by the window and you rushed to get ready.

-------

After clearing the back entrance, you found yourselves in the underground garage. 

Splitting up, you took down the guards one by one without raising any alarms. 

Neil checked the van and then you both made your way upstairs. You knew there were at least five more people in the loft, but you had to rely on the element of surprise because the cavalry was still on their way. 

As you got to the door, you cocked your pistol and met Neil’s determined stare. You nodded. 

Bursting through the door, your instincts kicked in, allowing you to put a bullet into two men before they had a chance to realize what was going on. In the next second all hell broke loose. You knew one thing - you somehow underestimated the numbers. And just as you thought that maybe you got lucky and got every last of them, someone grabbed you from behind and you felt something cold and sharp pressed against your neck. Fuck.

You dug your fingers into the arm wrapped around your shoulders, but a stinging pain made you stop any further attempts at breaking free. The blood pounded in your ears and everything seemed to slow down. 

You noticed Neil standing in front of you with a gun pointed right next to your head. 

He secured a grip on his pistol and the man holding you yelled something at him, but you didn’t listen, focusing completely on the blue eyes, now filled with a silent question, looking straight into yours.

You let out a shaky breath and blinked slowly. 

A gunshot echoed through the room.

The pressure on your neck lowered and you heard a thud of a body fitting the floor behind you. 

Neil lowered his gun. 

You stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

“Nice shot,” you said, composing yourself first.

He gave you a weak smile, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, your comms filled with a familiar voice.

“We’ve missed all the fun, eh?”

------

Neither of you said anything on the way back to the HQ, not counting the short answers to the questions asked by Ives, but even he gave up after a while seeing you weren’t in the mood for talking.  

You got your duffel bag out of the trunk and looked around. Neil was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the building, talking on the phone. You walked up to him slowly, waiting for him to finish the conversation.

“Do they need us to get in to file a report?” 

“No, I convinced TP to give us the rest of the day off,” he said, hiding the phone in the pocket of his jacket. “We can do that first thing tomorrow, I’m just gonna drop the equipment now.”

“Great, thanks.”

You couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment. You tossed the bag on your arm and smiled at the thought of a long hot shower and crashing in your own bed. 

There was just one thing you needed to do first.

Neil took a step towards the building and without thinking too much about it, you reached out for his hand.

“Neil…?”

He stopped and turned around, puzzled. His eyes dropped to your joined hands and slowly moved up to your face. 

You gave him a nervous smile.

“Thank you.”

His features softened and he squeezed your hand gently.

“Don’t mention it.”

And then he smirked.

...of course.

“Guess that makes us even.”

(next chapter->)

[oceanivoxjoquainx]

The Ungodly Hour (Sam x Joaquin)

Sam stirred on his side and slowly opened his eyes while rubbing them with his palm as they adjusted to the darkness that surrounded him. There was only one source of light and it was from a window right above his head allowing moonlight to land on an unknown location behind him. The red glow of an alarm clock was the first thing he could properly recognize.

3:35 AM

With a groan he turned onto his back and further studied his surroundings. They're were glowing stars on the ceiling and what appeared to be hundreds of little canvases on the walls, both finished and unfinished.

"Huh. Never knew he was an artist. Would ya look at that.", he muttered to himself before the realization of where he actually was hit him. Almost at the exact same time an arm shifted around his waist which caused Sam to curse.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!", he was NOT supposed to get this close him at ALL. In fact Sarah and Sharon told him explicitly NOT to go anywhere near the man! When Sam formed his Falcon team almost 2 years ago, they made it a rule not to sleep with each other. Of course there was chemistry between the all new Captain America and the man who was dubbed as the "New Falcon" before the team officially was a thing but nothing had happened then and nothing ever happened since they were one. Sam knew that Joaquin Torres was supposed to be completely off limits.

He gingerly removed the other man's hand off of his person as well as the thin sheet that covered him. He studied the pattern but could barely make out what it was in the darkness so he gave that endeavor up. He then shuffled his way out the bed as best as he could without waking up the other party.

His two feet landed on the hardwood floor of the ground and he stood up with barely a squeak from the bed. In light of his minute victory Sam decided to go a little dance before turning around and confirming his suspicions as to who's bed he was occupying.

Sure enough Joaquin was still peacefully asleep flat on his stomach with his face facing Sam and being washed in moonlight. Every dip and protrusion of his body was carefully mapped out by the sheet that covered him from his mid back to his feet. Even covered, Sam could see and visualize every part of that body he was holding onto and feeling just mere hours before. Every groan and moan made by the both of them. As he looked back at his face, specifically his lips, he remembered the deep first kiss they had that Sam pushed every feeling of wanting and longing into-

"Wow", was all Sam could muster, shaking his head to get the memory away before trying to find his way to a bathroom or a kitchen. He assumed it was Joaquin's apartment based on the decor of the bedroom but really had never been there before to know 100%. But still he was pretty sure. The next mystery was figuring out how they got there that night. And in that bed....

He finally reached a door and turned the knob hoping to be led into a hallway of some kind and not a closet. To his surprise that's exactly what he was awarded with! The door made more noise than the bed but after a quick look over his shoulder, the only movement Joaquin had made was turn his head away from Sam. After a sigh he pushed forward and closed the door behind him.

Walking down the hallway he saw two other doors. One was open and one was closed. The open door led to a bathroom while the closed one remained a mystery.

"Roommates?", he asked himself before walking into the bathroom and turning on the light. Looking into the mirror the first thing he noticed was a massive brown and purple bruise on his neck. "Damn, he got me good", he chucked to himself. "A little neck dragon on the loose, someone call the Avengers!" At this point he was making faces to himself and making himself laugh all in one go. He then bent down to turn on the faucet and splash some water on his face and it was here he noticed something else.

"Where the hell are any of my clothes?!?!" He was standing there fully naked. Asschecks exposed to the world.... well.... whatever little world this bathroom was. "I should probably find those if I want to leave here with my dignity in tact...", he muttered to himself.

"Orrrrrrrrrrrrr you could stay forever."

Sam jumped at the voice that creeped up on the side of him and was fully ready to throw the person over his shoulder before recognizing Joaquin's smug smile. A mischievous grin took over the shorter man's face as he realized he successfully got the drop on his target.

"What the hell are you doing up and slinking around here? You were thissss close to have a broken spine.", Sam sighed out.

"Pfft you would never. Plus I'dve ran far away before you could even reach out to grab me. But to answer your question Mr Sam Wilson, I was sound asleep until my arm was removed from its permanent resting place!"

"Permanent what?"

"I said what I said. And I fully intend to put it back there too", Joaquin declared, slowly making his way closer and closer to Sam.

"I mean um, I uh, But we uh, we we we can't right? We all ag-greed right? No hooking up?" Sam could barely get his words out anymore because Joaquin had placed a hand on his stomach and was slowly drawing it up his chest, over his shoulders, around his neck, and finally resting on his cheek.

"That rule was always dumb and besides what Sharon and Sarah don't know can't hurt them!"

"Yeah.... yeah.... you're absolutely right.", Sam replied before cradling Joaquin's head in his hands and meeting their lips in a slow and deep kiss. "I'm definitely changing that rule. I need you to publicly be mines."

"Oh? Yours? Are you asking me out Sam? Cuz this sure isnt what the movies told me this moment would be like."

The two were standing in a bathroom, one naked, one in sweat pants, holding each others faces in their hands and laughing like mad men.

"You watch too many movies then," Sam finally got out. "But fine. Joaquin Torres, will you do me the honor of going out on a date with me?"

"Sure but only after you take a shower. You smell like shit!"

Confused Sam stood there with his mouth agape before being pushed inside the shower and had the water turned on for him. "Hey!" he shouted, "Not cool!" After getting no response hearing the door close he shouted again, "You can't just push me in here and leave me by myself! And I still have questions!"

"Who said you were going to be by yourself?" Sam heard Joaquin say from behind the shower curtain. Said curtain was then pushed aside and Joaquin stepped in, lower body freed from the sweatpants. "Hand me the soap then! I wasn't lying about you smelling bad! And there are no questions. Only shower time!"

Sam laughed and pulled Joaquin into a hug, drowning out the sounds of protest and exclamations about body odor before pulling away and smirking down at a grinning Joaquin. After a quick kiss he handed Joaquin a washcloth and some soap and let him get work on the both of them.

He wondered how in the hell he could have denied himself this all this time and mentally ensured that now that he had it, he wasn't going to let it go.

[seancekitsch]

Courtesy, Sympathy, Taste: Klaus Hargreeves x Reader Kinktober fic, part of the Prize Buck Series

warnings: drug use, slight daddy kink, klaus being a cocky little shit, accidental stimulation, mutual masturbation, this ones a shorty folx

Klaus is a fucking tease, even when he isnt trying to be. Its like everything he does is fucking erotic. It's the weight he carries and how he carries it, always sure to take the utmost pleasure in his actions. The way he absolutely lounges across the couch, the way he leans into every conversation to get his fill out of it, the way he lets himself enjoy the fabric of a soft shirt with a low hum of pleasure. It's even the way he smokes the blunt passing between the two of you. You'd rolled it carefully, tight and pretty in the little pink papers you'd found at the bodega. He lays on the mattress, thrown lazily on the ground pushed up against the wall next to you, fully enjoying his share of it.

He inhales deeply, slowly taking the smoke into his lungs, letting the marijuana soak every little capillary and corner of his chest cavity. He pauses, eyes meeting your own, bloodshot mixing with green, before a slow exhale, moaning as he uses his plump upper lip to push the smoke back up as he exhales. The classic french way. Disgusting if anyone else did it, but to see him twice exhale, it's beautiful. Mesmerizing, even. Am I staring? You wonder.

“You want the next hit?” Klaus points the mouth end of the blunt at you expectantly. Fuck. you were staring. You nod, then shift to reach and grab the blunt, thighs rubbing together at just the right angle as you sit up, jean shorts rubbing against your cunt. Don’t moan, don’t moan, don’t moan, you think. When your fingertips come to grip around the damp end, you immediately slump back into your position lounging opposite him on the mattress.

“Are you turned on right now?” Klaus asks, incredulous, watching you as you cough and splutter and almost choke on the smoke. He could tell. How could he tell?  Sure you'd fucked a week ago but how could he possibly already notice your tells? To notice what little signs would give away that you were aroused.

“Christ- did that, did I make your horny?” you only offer what you hope looks like a hostile stare back at him, but all Klaus can see is you splayed out on your back, elbows propping you up as you stare like a deer in the headlights with a dwindling joint between your lips. Lips he’d like to kiss, to push his fingers between. You look like he ravaged you instead of just handing a blunt to you.

“N-no,” you manage to gasp as you finally get a good and steady exhale of the smoke. He leans up, tank top bunching up as he sits to pull the blunt from the corner of your mouth, gently brushing his knuckles against your lips as he does so, the slight contact sending a jolt down your core. He's doing it on purpose now, it wasn't before, but it is now.

“You like how daddy smokes? Notice daddy showing off for you?”

You have to grimace. Klaus didn't seem like the daddy type, but then again, maybe it was the daddy issues.

“I wasn't even trying to put on a show for you, but now I will.” Those words are a threat as much as they are a promise. You watch his chest rise, inhaling smoke to the full capacity of his lungs as the little cherry at the tip of the blunt burns angry holes into your vision. You have another one in the little tin next to you, and you think of sparking it up. If you're too high to move, you can't further embarrass yourself in front of your roommate. Before you've fully thought it through, the next one is in your mouth, matching inhales as he stares you down, like hes ripping you apart with his eyes alone, then he exhales, that same sultry obscene french exhale letting the smoke drift back into his nostrils. Twice exhaled and spent by the time he's done.

“Why don't you touch yourself while you catch that one up to mine?” he watches carefully, to make sure he’s not overstepping a boundary. He knows what your boundaries look like. Shut down and sleep. But your hands move of their own accord, unbuttoning and unzipping the shorts as left hand snakes below the fabric, moving along a rhythm steady as the tide. Fuck, youre absolutely gorgeous like this. He's wanted to get to know you since you first arrived in his life, and now he wants all of you. He’ll always want more of you, Klaus figures. More as he finds himself cutting the next exhale short as his hand finds its way down his own loose trousers, firmly gripping the base of his cock to stifle a moan as he watches your mouth fall open as your fingers finally sink into yourself.

“Is- is this what daddy wants to see?” you ask, so unsure, but indulging in the nickname your roommate gave himself. He only nods as he begins to stroke, taking shorter drags of the blunt as his breathing starts to become heavier, not to strain himself or cough. You continue to thrust your fingers in yourself, wishing they were Klaus in any capacity, pulling the smoke from the blunt with your other hand, almost as if it's a race, never breaking eye contact with your roommate across the mattress. A particularly harsh thrust of your hand has the heel of your palm brush your clit, earning an equally harsh noise from your lips, part cough part gasp and part squeak. You see him shudder in reaction and speed up not only the jerking motion of his hand but his finishing of the blunt. In a few quick puffs, it's no more than a used roach, empty and ready for trash.

“Wait, wait this was hot, but can I finish you off?” his voice is needy, almost whining as his hand slides from the trousers. You barely finish a nod before the roach is discarded in the ashtray and he’s pouncing on your form.

[thrillridesz]

work from home ▫ eric

➳ pairing: eric x reader ➳ genre: fluff, suggestive ➳ word count: 1.4k ➳ requested?: yes

a/n: this is a little shorter than usual ( and maybe a little raunchier ) but nonetheless, i hope you guys like it!

Typing away at your keyboard, you squinted at the tiny text on your screen, frowning as the words stared back at you. No matter how hard or how long you stared, none of it was really making sense. Internally, you lamented the work from home orders your interning company had executed as you leaned back, sighing exasperatedly. 

On one hand, you understand wholeheartedly the importance of staying home and keeping safe yet on the other, you can’t help but feel utterly helpless. Normally, you would have had colleagues who would be kind enough to teach you or advice you on the more complicated documents or projects but this time, you were completely on your own. 

The gears in your mind were working so tirelessly trying to decipher and make sense of the documents in your computer, that you barely even noticed a figure creeping up behind you.

You almost jumped out of your chair as you felt strong arms encircling you from behind, pulling you into a hug. You had to calm your pounding heart while the figure chuckled at your reaction.

“Eric! What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m giving you a hug.” He replied, pressing chaste kisses on your cheeks. His kisses were soft but you could sense the underlying passion behind them.

“And kisses here... And here...” Eric whispers as he trails kisses down from your cheek to your neck, nuzzling against you. You almost lost yourself to his kisses before you remembered the deadline for the report you’re supposed to be working on. Immediately, you tensed up and sensing your sudden stiffness, he gazed at you with a puzzled look.

“I can’t do this now. I’ve got work.” You said and pulled in your chair closer to the desk, stretching your fingers in front of you. 

Eric pouted, disappointment apparent in the way he slouched over as you immersed yourself back into your work.

“But I’ve been waiting for so long just to spend time with you. It’s like you never have time for me.”

You looked at him with a guilty expression on your face and you felt your heart ache a little at how dejected he looked. 

“I’m sorry but I really have to finish this.”

“Can’t you do it later?” He asked, propping himself up on your desk and rubbing your hand affectionately. “Your hands need to rest.”

“I can’t,” you smiled apologetically. “I have to get this report out by tomorrow night and I’m nowhere near done.”

“You can’t even spare me even a little bit of your time?” 

You look up at him and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he stared at you with a mysterious glint in his eyes. There was something fiery and sensual about the way he was looking at you yet also a hint of desperation, as if he was pleading with you to spare him some time.

“It’s been some time.” He said in a low voice that caused your face to burn and your insides to tingle delightfully. 

“Eric...”

“Please, y/n?” He stuck his lower lip out as he slapped his hands together in a pleading motion.

“I have to work.” You choked out despite wanting so desperately to take him up on his offer. It was taking almost every inch of your determination to say no.

His shoulder sagged and he said, “Alright. That’s fine then, I understand.” A small smile graced Eric’s face as he gave you a quick peck on your forehead.

“If you need me, I’ll be out in the living room.”

“I’ll be right with you the moment I’m done!”

“Sure, can’t wait,” he smiled, closing the door behind him.

You forced yourself to turn back to your work, wishing you could spend the time with him instead of work.

“Well, the best thing to do right now is to focus and get it over and done with quickly I guess.” You mumbled to yourself as you began to type.

It must have been about a couple of hours before you were done and when you typed in your final word, you had to restrain yourself from actually jumping with joy. 

This could have been done hours ago if you were still working in the office. As you lounged back into your chair, you let your eyelids flutter shut.

Finally, you can relax. Work has been hell lately and as you leaned your head against the soft pillow of your chair, you wished with all your heart that things would go back to normal soon. Not just because of work but also because for the safety and good of the world.

As you rocked back and forth in your chair, the setting sun outside casted a warm, amber glow over your work desk and your room. The sound of traffic began to fade into the background as you let yourself gradually drift into dreamland.

A loud honk from the road outside shook you from your slumber and you cursed under your breath. You could have had a heart attack from that.

Rubbing your eyes blearily, you frowned in confusion when you felt a heavy quilt over your body. It took you a moment before you jumped from your seat, anxious and frantic.

You had forgotten about Eric. You could have kicked yourself as you quickly picked up your phone to check the timing.

Your blood ran cold.

It’s 7:21pm. Almost 5 hours since you last talked to Eric and even promised to spend time with him after work.

Bolting out of your room, you found the living room dark and empty with a simple takeout box sitting on the dining table. Is he out? Your face fell as you ambled towards the food, feeling all sorts of guilt. He probably went out with the boys.

As you sat down with a heavy heart, you thought you heard a sound coming from the bedroom. Curiously, you stood up and approached with caution. Was that Eric?

You gently pushed open the door and what you saw almost made you gasp out loud.

Laying on the bed was Eric with his shirt off, clad only in a pair of boxers. His hair was tousled and messy but it only served to make him look more sensual and wild. His cheeks were bright pink and his gasps were coming out in pants as his hand...

You clasped a hand over your mouth as you gave a little squeak which didn’t go unnoticed by Eric.

Immediately, he sat up, wide-eyed and surprised before a look of mortification came over him. Pulling his boxers up to cover himself, he sprang out of bed as you walked in, your cheeks simply burning from what you just saw.

Your heart was still pounding and you felt your core clench as you looked at him, his chest rising and falling with each breath. It’s not like the two of you have never done the deed before but you have to admit that whatever you just saw was just about the most sensual thing you’ve ever seen. The way you had heard him moan your name was sending chills all over your body as you peered at him.

“I... When did you wake up?” He asked, a flustered expression on his face.

“Just a little while ago,” you replied softly. “Why didn’t you just wake me up?”

Eric scratched his head with a sheepish smile.

“Um, I didn’t want to disturb your rest. You looked really tired so I thought maybe I’d let you sleep.”

“Oh.”

There was a moment of silence before he cleared his throat.

“Well, this is awkward. Um... You haven’t had dinner right? I can go heat up your food for you.”

As he made his way out, you grabbed his wrist, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Looks like someone got started without me.” You said so quietly that Eric almost didn’t hear what you said.

“Sorry?” His doe eyes were wide as he looked at you.

“I’m upset you got started without me.” You repeat, a little louder this time and you placed a palm over his bare chest, feeling him tremble under your touch.

He blinked for a moment before a smile spreaded across his face and as he stared into your eyes, you could see the fiery heat in them.

“Well, how about we start together now?”

[sakuratragedy]

Emperors Consort | Chapter 2

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Zhongli / Childe, #Zhongchi Tags: R18, A/B/O Dynamics, Royalty AU Summary: aka "Emperor's consort doesn't know the difference between being a concubine and being a consort" Tsaritsa wants her child to have a good life after serving her on the battlefield for so long, so she makes a deal with an old friend. In exchange for her military might, he will marry her son. Childe who has no formal omega training has to do his best to cover up the fact he has no idea what he's doing. Do your best to be a good omega Childe!

He remembers the familiar ache in his back and knot in his shoulders from the last time he travelled from the mother country to Liyue. The arrival at the harbour was busy per usual. The sounds of Liutian and foreigners alike moving around the harbour, the voices that speak of trades and exchange greetings merge together creating a mess of noise. His fellow Fatui agents unloading the luggage they brought (limited to a single case per person), dressed in their fatui garb ready to split ways after unloading and receiving orders from the youngest Harbinger.

Tartaglia dressed in his civilian clothing and did a quick scan of the harbour. It didn’t look like much had changed much over the years he had been away. He had been wearing his Harbinger uniform up until he could see the outline of the harbour from the ship, before remembering he was not there for a quick mission.

He was there to potentially get mated (and possibly married).

“I’m sure you know what to do.” Childe says without having to turn to look at his agents, but he knows they were listening. “Independent action until necessary, don’t cause any trouble that I can’t get you out of.” He glanced over his shoulder to watch his agents nod at him. Usually they would disappear by now, going their own separate directions but they stood there behind him. Childe raised his brow when he still felt their presence behind him and fully turned to them.

“Speak.”

“Sir, are you truly going to become the emperor’s omega?” He recalls her name, Ekaterina, who was there during his last stay in Liyue years ago.

“It’s part of Tsaritsa's deal with the emperor. Who am I to disobey her?”

“What about your position as a Harbinger, sir?” a skirmisher asks, timidly rubbing the back of his head for speaking so boldly to his superior. Childe gave a half-glare at the taller male before he rolled his eyes.

“I’m still a Harbinger. This ‘mating with the emperor’ shit isn’t solid.” He does air quotations with his fingers. “What is important right now is the mission. If you find out what the emperor's big dilemma is before I do, please relay it back to me.” His agents clung to every word he uttered as if he spoke the gospel, memorising it down to each syllable to avoid missing anything and honestly, he loved it.

Surely this ‘mating and marriage’ could turn optional if he finishes the mission earlier than intended. Childe starts running through various possibilities that could happen to him when he finally starts living at the palace to prepare himself from being caught off guard. If he revealed himself to be a Harbinger right away, the emperor would put him to work immediately. They would solve the problem faster than usual. -

‘Because I’m talented and strong, it would be done in no time.’ Childe thinks to himself.

And in the end the emperor would have to mate and marry him to uphold the Tsaritsa’s end of the bargain. But… if he pretended he was just a useless omega prince, would the emperor be more willing to let him go?

He smirks at the idea before turning to his agents.

“Do not tell anyone that I’m a Harbinger.” He watches them nod once at his command.

“Dismissed.” He smiles and they disappear in the blink of an eye.

‘This could be fun.’ he thinks, his smile stretching holding more mischief from his clever plan. ‘I’ll be back home in no time.’

“You’re the Tsaritsa’s son.” a voice snapped him out of his devious thoughts. He turned to his left, seeing no one. A little cough in the direction he was looking at made him glance down meeting eyes with a small girl, much shorter than himself that she had to tilt her head upwards to meet his eyes. Her mouth was curled into a distasteful pout, likely irritated at the obvious height difference.

Childe couldn’t hold back the smile that grew on his face. She was so tiny. The girl might have mistaken Childe’s smile as a mocking one and grew more irritated, her brows furrowing together.

‘She’s a fighter.’ he thinks as his eyes travel further down, intrigued by the sword attached at her hip decorated with extravagant carvings. The guard was shaped like a lion's head, beautiful listening gold in the afternoon light and the little eyes seemed to glow fiercely with amber gems. Analysing her figure, he realizes could probably beat her if they fought. He should be nice to her, since fighting weaker people did not bring any pleasure.

“I’m speaking to you.” She doesn’t mask the irritation in her voice when she glares at him. He continues to watch her with curious eyes, eyebrow raised as she moves her light purple hair behind her shoulder in one elegant toss of her hand before crossing her arms at her chest. Without having to look for too long, he knows this confident girl that came to pick him up at the harbour must be associated with the Liyue Qixing from the elegant air that she carries.

“Yes, I heard you.” Childe responds. The corner of his lip turns upward again when she rolls her eyes openly at him before turning her face away. Never in his life had he seen someone so openly irritated at him. This girl did not care the slightest that she was in the presence of one of Snezhnaya’s ruthless fighters, let alone foreign royalty.

“We’re leaving for the palace now. Follow me.” she says quickly before turning on her heels and walking away. She seemed to be in a rush to leave Childe behind, but her plan did not go about the way she planned as Childe has longer legs. He took a few big strides and caught up to her walking pace, which seemed to irritate her further. Either way, it was not hard to keep up with her.

He glanced down at his walking partner, seeing her bite her lip and her gloved hands are little balls at her sides as she walked made him chuckle.

“I hope you know I already don’t like you.” She says as she turns on her heel to open the door to the carriage. While different from Snezhnaya carriages that were fully covered and the cushioning surrounded by velvet to keep the warm, he found it cute how Liyue carriages were open, fancy carvings on the wood let air through the carriage. He traced the red wood, admiring it for a bit too long before the girl behind him made noise.

“Just get in already!” He laughed again when he climbed into the carriage, tears brimming his eyes from the way his stomach hurt.

“You’ve amused me like no other. What is your name, young lady?” Childe smiled bright and wide, feeling actual excitement of having someone openly hate him. He reached out to shake her hand, while his other hand wiped away the stray tear at the corner of his eye.

The girl huffed, her cheeks turning pink from either the humid air or his constant teasing. Her gloved hand grabbed his own.  

“Keqing.”

-

“Good morning Taru…” He sat up from his canopy bed decorated with gorgeous red and gold silks stretching his arms over his head.

His room was heavily decorated in exquisite furnishings such as porcelain vases detailed in gold and little statues of long dragons with clouds surrounding them made of marble would decorate the tables. Soft and expensive furs and fabrics draped on his bed. A single round window made of wood with intricate circle and square motive carvings framed all four sides of the window placed just a little further from the door that led out onto his huge balcony beside his bedroom.

“Good morning Qiqi!” Childe smiled at his attendant. He holds his hand out, waiting for Qiqi to give him the item that she was holding. He felt his heart melt when the little girl approached him at his bed and shyly placed a small purple flower in his palm. Childe pauses to look at the delicate plant in his hands.

“What is this?” He asks curiously. The small flower looked a little rough around its edges, but he can tell from the way Qiqi protectively held it before passing it to him that she tried her very best to be gentle.

“Violetgrass…” She fiddles with the hem of her dress, swaying her body from left to right waiting for him to accept the present she had given him.

“I love it. Thank you Qiqi.” He gently sets the violetgrass by his side before he carefully moves out of bed. He kneels in front of her to hug the smaller girl, which she happily hugs back. He feels her little hands grab the back of his silk pajamas, not being able to fully circle around him just yet.

“Let’s start the day, shall we?” Childe pulls away gently from the hug. Qiqi nods in agreement before she leaves him to find the ladies that will prepare his clothing and accessories for the day. As several sets of hands roam his body, brushing his hair and tying robes onto his clothing, another lady reads aloud the schedule that has been fixed for him by Keqing. He shuts his eyes, feeling his head tilt in one direction as a maid brushes his untamable hair. He can feel her frustration as she brushes before deciding it would be best to place little decorative pins in the shape of beautiful flowers into his hair to compensate for the mess underneath. She clips small flowers into the curls of his hair, twisting as they were little branches for the acrylic flowers to sit upon.

The first three days of Childe’s life in the Liyue Palace were very similar, a blur . Qiqi’s presence was the only consistent thing that happened during his time at the palace. Every morning when Qiqi wakes him up, she would bring something small and interesting she thinks that he would like.

The Qixing (Keqing, specifically) had presented him with Qiqi as his personal attendant while he stayed in the palace. He had discovered through the smaller girl that she works part time for Baizhu, picking herbs for hours on end occasionally never coming back to the palace for three days. But since she now waits on the foreign prince, her herb picking hours have been reduced from twilight till the sun broke through the clouds the next morning.

“Don’t you need sleep?” He asks the first day he met her. She was such a small and young girl, how could anyone make her work her bones off from dusk till dawn. Keqing stands further back from them, letting them introduce themselves before she has to haul him elsewhere.

“Qiqi is okay. Adepti are okay.” Childe didn’t know what that meant and he believed her, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a little guilty. Small kids should be getting proper rest and not scaling the side of dangerous cliffs for herbs that the doctor was capable of getting for himself.

He didn’t think that he had to make a complete 180 change from the last time he was in Liyue. Ever since Childe stepped foot on that harbour three days ago, he hadn’t touched his belongings he brought with him from Snezhnaya. He hadn’t worn any of the clothes he brought, as the attendants would dress him in Liyue’s traditional clothes specifically made for Liutian omegas.

-

“Why do I have to wear a dress?” Childe asks as he looks himself in the mirror, the silks and cotton flowy against his skin. The light blue robes detailed in a darker shade of navy blue and gold stitching complimented his eye colour. Several attendants were surrounding him, taking his measurements not missing out a single inch of his body as Keqing stood before him. She monitored the way the ladies moved gracefully about him as if they were in a dance, fleeting touches not more than 2 seconds, a stretch of tape here and there, a little tug of his clothes once in a while before the touches leave him. He watches the redhead in the mirror through the floor to ceiling mirror, the one that looked like him but he could not recognise from the gorgeous silks and cottons that decorated his imposter.

“All omegas, especially those from noble lines wear hanfus.” Keqing explains as she pulls the skirt down. Golden accessories such as clips and small delicate chains started to decorate his hair, neck and ears, Keqing was presented with different silks by the same attendants. He doesn’t say anything when she holds it up against his face, before giving the fabric back and nodding in approval.

“Plus, it’s pretty. Alphas love pretty omegas.” A beautiful woman walks in wearing her own white and golden hanfu, carrying herself like she was a goddess walking amongst men. The way her skirt flowed as she walked towards the two, the slim and elegant smile on her lips as she walked over to them. She gave a little twirl, her gorgeous skirt flaring out like a dream of silk and cotton as she arrived before the foreign prince and blushing noble.

“Don’t you agree?” She asks, leaning a little towards Keqing.  Keqing took a step back, face colouring as she looked away in embarrassment. Childe watched as the omega teased the purple haired alpha by inching closer as the other backed away. Gorgeous amber eyes gleaming with mirth, her smile hidden behind her paper fan as she basically teased the alpha. She carries a similar paper fan in her hand, wearing a similarly fashioned hanfu and yet, they couldn’t be any more different.

“Yes. You are very pretty.” her voice barely an audible gasp could be heard, but it was a sufficient response for the fair lady.

From the way her presence alone can suffocate a room, begging its attention to be turned to her and the way comfortably glides around the palace. It was safe to assume that this was the emperor's regina.

“I am Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing. It’s nice to meet you.” She gives a little bow of respect that Childe awkwardly returns back. Those titles that came after her name did not hold any meaning to Childe as he didn’t understand what that meant, it was possible he would forget after this meeting.

“You look pretty as well. I think this colour suits you wonderfully.” Ningguang says as she pulls lightly on the baby blue fabric the attendants had put around his arms not for any particular purpose other than decoration, but Childe being who he is naturally assumed he could turn it into a weapon and strangle someone with it if he was given the chance.

‘No, that’s a bad Ajax.’ He thought to himself. ‘No thinking about strangling.’ The voice in his head speaks in a firm tone as if he were speaking to a naughty child. His face sulks a little. When the attendants pulled away after what felt like hours, he was greeted with a sight he had never seen before. He was dressed in beautiful silks and cottons that could give him the illusion of being beautiful.

The style of hanfu was very similar to the long flowing one Ningguang wore, except the colours of his hanfu were softer in comparison to the dramatic whites, bright reds and golds the other omega wore. He didn’t catch himself in time, accidentally openly gawking at how well the attendants had dressed him. When he caught himself and shut his mouth, his eyes met with the Tianquan. She smiled at him, looking genuinely excited that he looked decent in those clothes. He can’t help but feel out of place. The attendants presented a variety of earrings carefully placed on a tray to Ningguang. She hums and carefully picks up one that she thinks would suit Childe best. A single red gem hanging from slim golden chains, smaller red flowers littering the chain in delicate placements.

“Why do you not wear your pheromones?” She asks as she assists Childe by putting on the earring. “You seem to have many scent blockers upon your neck.” She reaches for them, but with Childe’s fast reflexes, he’s immediately off the chair and covering the back of his neck with his hand. He leans against the vanity, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he feels and tries to steel his rapidly beating heart.

Ningguang blinked.

She didn’t even see him move.

“The Tsaritsa said not to take them off.” He says quickly followed by a forced laugh and smile, hoping that she would not press any further concerning the three scent blockers covering every inch of the scent glands on his neck, preventing any pheromones from accidentally leaking.

She was silent, hands still in the air from where she was holding Childe’s other earring.

“Alright.” Ningguang put the other earring down on the tray that the attendant held. “I suppose she would only want you to take them off during your heat.”

Childe nervously laughs and agrees with her.

-

Presented with portions more than Childe had ever seen, he had been eating a lot of food since he arrived at the palace compared to his home life in Snezhnaya. Childe had never been one to eat for pleasure, as he was the type of prince who found pleasure in pain and fighting, challenges and battle scars.

If Childe was to eat any more food, he felt as if his stomach would simply burst open and a flow of various ingredients would stream from it. But being the kind prince he is, he smiles and opens his mouth, consuming the food that was given to him.

It was an unusual sight for sure. He sat amongst the chefs at their designated dining table in the kitchen of the palace. Their sturdy wooden table plated at least three different kinds of chicken meals featuring different parts, cooked several different ways. He was seated on their wooden bench that could fit five people per side and ate from delicate porcelain wares and golden spoons and forks.

‘Why so spicy?’ Childe holds in the scream he wants to let out, his cheeks glowing a peachy red hue as he chews slowly, the burning sensation in his mouth moving further down his throat as he swallows. He can’t be anything less than regal as a foreign prince, carrying his image by sitting upright with his elbows off the table, but in that moment he feels helpless to the spice. His mouth opened slightly, pink lips huffing out hot air attempting to ventilate the scorching sensation.

“ He’s so thin. Xiangling is there anything else to eat?” A woman much older than him sat to his right, watching him as he steadily ate the steamed chicken dish in front of him cooked with chilies, thinly sliced gingers, and soft wolfberries. A man to his left took away his bowl of rice when he brought the spoon of chicken and rice to his mouth, filling the bowl with more soft fluffy rice before setting it back down before him.

“ I can make chicken feet with dark sauce! ” A young girl says as she rushes around the large kitchen holding a cleaver in her hand. The other chefs laugh fondly when ingredients start flying about the kitchen, some entering pots and nearly missing the pans. The cheery girl hums an upbeat tune while the cleaver cuts fast against the wooden board.

“ His face is red! ” One chef says to another.

“ Youths are so cute. ” The woman decides to fondly pinch his cheek, making him turn to her, rosy blush dusting his face. Childe couldn’t concentrate on the actions of the chefs in the kitchen, too busy blinking away the tears that stinged his eyes from the intensity of the chili.

“ Should eat more though. Get fatter and bear healthy kids.” The same woman wraps her hand around Childe’s slim wrist, seeing how she could easily wrap her thumb and index finger around it.

He exhaled a breath through his slightly parted mouth, the heat never leaving him. While his eyes were clenched closed, the young girl dropped a large bowl of soup beside the spicy chicken he had yet to clean off his plate.

“Eat up!” She says in a language he could understand since he had arrived in this kitchen an hour ago and beams a bright smile at him. He weakly smiles back with as much politeness he could muster in that moment, knowing he couldn’t get out of the situation he was currently in.

-

The end of Childe’s three busy days had been the most exhilarating despite the slow start. From the moment he woke up, the ladies had brushed his hair and dressed him per usual but this time under the watchful eye of the tiny purple haired Qixing. When he was dressed, she extended her hand towards him accompanied by her sharp glare. He didn’t think much of the gesture, placing his hand on top of hers before the alpha escorted the two of them through the maze of open aired hallways leading to the emperor’s palace in silence.

“Stand here and don’t move. Don’t go anywhere.” Keqing said when they had reached the altar, removing her hand from under his. He took a look at her and nodded in understanding. She nodded back, turning away to take a seat just behind him. From the sound of a drag of the chair against the floor, he can tell she pulled a seat closer to her own in that moment he wasn’t looking.

He had stood before the entire Liyue Qixing, seven heads of noble lines seated behind him as he stood what looked like an altar, listening to a man speaking in pure liyuan before him. From the dramatic gestures to his loud booming voice that echoed the hall, he could guess the man was a preacher of some sort. Occasionally he would jolt awake from the way the preacher’s voice would boom.

“ In the consort’s next heat, may the archons bless that an adepti child be born. ” Childe’s polite smile is beginning to fade into a more awkward and strained one. He feels like he had been standing there for ages from the way his back began to hurt from how straight he stood, combined with the heavy weight of the seven pairs of eyes staring holes into his back.

“ The emperor. ” The loud man gestured to the large double door he had entered through, but all Childe could do was stare in confusion. The man spoke such pure liyuan it was difficult for him (someone who only ever heard informal liyuan from his one year stay) it was as if he was trying to process the thick accent along with the pure pronunciations. He tried to interpret the preacher's words with the minimum amount of liyuan he learned during his one year post at Liyue Harbour when he was 21.

‘It’s too fluent.’ Childe furrows his brows in frustration. ‘I don’t understand.’ While he was trying to deconstruct the words the preacher was saying so he could get a hold of what he was on about, he failed to notice two pairs of footsteps that entered the room. One pair had stopped walking just behind him while the other walked up beside him.

“ Two worlds will collide in a united front, to unite two countries, two perspectives, two worlds. ” The preacher made a particularly big gesture before intertwining his fingers together and locking them.

‘Honestly, I should have thought about getting a tutor 3 years ago.’ He tried his best not to show such a confused expression, but failed when he heard a chuckle beside him.

“He said ‘two worlds colliding in a united front’.”

“Ah, thank you.” Childe turned his head to thank the figure beside him before looking away in fear of getting scolded by Keqing, and looking back because fuck getting scolded by Keqing.

‘This man is so handsome !’ Childe practically screamed in his mind, so loud that he was afraid the other man could hear him. He was scared the whole hallway could possibly hear him from how loud his thought was. He didn’t care that he was openly staring with eyes as large as dinner plates at this point.

The prince was suddenly very aware of the taller man standing beside him on the altar.

‘He’s taller than me. No one is ever taller than me.’ Childe snuck another sideways glance, trying to hold back the embarrassment from showing on his face. He clearly was embarrassed, he himself knew it and is accepting of the fact. He tried to steady his breathing when he felt his heart hammer at his chest. He did not prepare himself for the possibility of the emperor being (hot) his type.

‘His jawline is so sharp. He’s so tall. Is it because he’s an alpha? He’s got such pretty eyes.’ Childe’s mind was busy collecting as much information as he could get from simply looking at the emperor, he didn’t realise something slipped from his mouth.

“Pardon?” He turns his head to fully look at Childe, watching as the prince’s fair cheeks bloom a bright red when he realizes some thoughts may have slipped out as real words.

“My apologies, it’s nothing.”

Throughout the ceremony, Childe kept sneaking glances at him. Well, he couldn’t help himself no matter how disciplined he was. This man was so much eye candy he had to openly stare. When the other man noticed him staring and when he caught his eyes, Childe whipped his head to look away.

“Are you nervous?” he hears a soft voice beside him. He looks up to see him glancing with a gentle expression. Childe felt himself blush. The emperor is so handsome, you would never believe he was 40 years old.

“Yes, a little. I can’t really understand what he’s saying.” Childe admits truthfully before he felt him blush rise to his ears. Why did he admit that? Was his face really able to let down his guard?

The emperor chuckles a little before he smiles and looks forward at the officiater. “We’ll get you a tutor. It is an easy language to grasp once you figured out the basics.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem.” He smiled.

‘Fangs!’ Childe’s mind shouted in glee when he saw the sharp teeth but his face kept a calm appearance. He realises he’s been too jumpy during the ceremony and not concentrating at all. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. ‘Of course the man has fangs, he’s an alpha.’ He nods, thinking logically and completely missing the side glance followed by a fleeting smirk the other man gave him.

The preacher hands Childe and the emperor a small cup each filled with fragrant rice wine.

‘Do I drink this?’ He looks at the clear liquid in the goblet before looking up at Zhongli, meeting his eyes for the first time in the hour they had been standing beside each other. Zhongli’s eyes never tear away from him as he slowly puts his own cup to his lips, waiting for him to do the same.

Luckily Childe catches on and drinks the wine, Zhongli doing the same.

-

“ Congratulations on getting married. ” Ningguang says in pure liyuan dialect, bowing at Childe and the emperor. Her voice carried a smoother tone when she spoke in liyuan compared to when she spoke to Childe a few days ago. He snuck another glance at Zhongli without fully turning his head, trying not to seem too interested in the man.

‘Well, if he hears my thoughts I’d be doomed.’ Childe fully regained his composure after being let go by the preacher, some of the Qixing nobles leaving the hall as soon as it was done with the exception of Ningguang and Keqing, who stood further back towards the door waiting for them to finish their conversation with the emperor. He stood beside the emperor, waiting for him to finish his exchange with his regina before introducing himself, but while that was happening he was running through his mind figuring out how to make a good first impression.

“ Be quiet. ” He says, but the smile that graced his face when he faced her was gentle, yet it held some mirth. The smiles they exchanged held deeper meaning, as if it holds years of bonding that could not be overwritten by the involvement of a second love. Childe feels envious somehow.

Zhongli fully turns to him, with that handsome smile still on his face and Childe finds himself being entranced. He could finally get a good look at the well dressed man who wore layers upon layers from his dress shirt to his vest and his outer coat, this man was covered from head to toe leaving not an inch of skin exposed for imagination to run wild.

“Childe, this is Zhongli.” Ningguang introduces them before Zhongli could open his mouth to speak. “Call him xiansheng.” Zhongli turned to her with disbelief on his face while she giggled mischievously behind her gloved hand.

“You don’t have to call me - “

“Xiansheng?” He feels shy when he attempts to copy Ningguang’s pronunciation. He was rewarded with a thumbs up from the fair lady, but he noticed Zhongli take a step back from him.

“That is good pronunciation, Childe.” Zhongli says.

“My real name is Ajax.” He blurts out, feeling his cheeks get hot from how well this man could play him without having to do anything. He hasn’t actually said his original name for years, not since he had been adopted by the Tsaritsa. He felt as if he could have gone a lifetime without hearing that name again.

“Ajax.” And yet, he wants to hear his name on this man's lips more, drink it up like it was wine and honey. The smile that comes after the syllables of his name were addictive. He feels high, overwhelmed even, as if he had not been breathing oxygen up until he hears his name uttered from this man's lips.

If he could look at that smile for the rest of his life.

“There’s plenty of time for you both to get to know each other,” Ningguang says, but the holes that Keqing had been staring into her head had increased in intensity since earlier. “But not right now.” She smiles, a little nervous about the purple haired noble that was clicking the heel of her shoe against the carpeted floor.

Unfortunately, Ningguang went unheard by the two males. Zhongli looks at Childe like he is the only person in the hall, and Childe looks at him like he was the only person in the universe as they spoke, low and quiet unwanting others to hear their meek conversation.

“Are you really 40 years old?”

“No, that might be an exaggeration.”

“I knew my siblings were joking - “ “I’m 57.”

Childe blinked, his hand moving away from his mouth, to look at the emperor with disbelief. He shook his head, feeling whiplash from the information. The corners of the emperor's lips quirk upwards, amused as he watches the ginger process the information.

“You’re older than the Tsaritsa.”

“Indeed. I’ve known her for a very long time, we are good friends.”

“Ahem.” A loud noise was made, finally attracting the attention of the prince and the emperor. They turned to look at the smaller girl, her fist at her mouth before she crossed her arms. Ningguang stood a little behind her, averting her gaze. She did try to warn them, they couldn’t blame her for their scolding.

“Childe has to meet his tutor and Lady Ningguang and I have a meeting to tend to.” Keqing says bluntly. It seems her clear dislike was not hidden from anyone, not even with the exception of the emperor.

“Oh? I thought we were going on a date?” Ningguang piped up, making the purple haired girl go red in the face, but keeping her usual stoic demeanor. Keqing had her hands balled up in fists when the lady teased her, but couldn’t deny that it had embarrassed her in a good way. Zhongli raised a curious brow at his Qixing before nodding.

“I understand. You may go.” He says to Keqing and Ningguang. They both bow at their direction, before taking off. Childe was in the midst of turning away to follow them but was stopped by a gentle touch of a hand on his wrist. The touch was so gentle, it made his heart flutter. He looked at the gloved hand that caught him, before looking up at the emperor’s face.

“Xiansheng?” He says curiously. Zhongli hesitates, so the both of them were simply studying each other's faces. He looked like he had a lot to say to him, his mouth opening slightly before closing, and opening again and biting his lower lip.

“Till we meet again.” He finally says. Zhongli looked the way that Childe felt, shy. Childe couldn’t suppress the twinkle in his eyes and the smile that crept upon his face.

“Till next time, xiansheng.”

-

“In Liyue customs, an empress is bred from young, training from a youth until a young adult to be able to take the responsibilities that come with being the empress. Among these responsibilities are overseeing the imperial charity, funding for - '' The words blur and jumble into a ball of sounds as Childe stares at the pen and blank paper in front of him.

Why did he have to learn about the empress anyway? Couldn’t he skip to the parts that he didn’t need to learn since he was a meer concubine to the emperor? He twirls the fountain pen between his fingers, careful to not fling ink out and spray it all over the parchment.

“Childe, are you listening?” He looks up at his tutor. The blue haired boy much much younger than him is sitting at the end of his desk with a thick book placed on his lap.

“Yes, Xingqiu, I’m listening.”

“Good. How many years must an empress candidate undergo training before she can become the official regina?” He places his elbow on his knee, leaning his head on his hands as he watches the foreign prince in amusement. The prince clearly hadn’t been listening to him, instead choosing to spend his time concentrating on not spilling the ink from his pen as he twirled it between his fingers like a baton.

“Sixteen years.” Childe answers effortlessly, avoiding eye contact with his smug tutor. Xingqiu’s head lifted from his hand, a little shocked that the prince actually was paying attention to him.

“Good. We can move on to the inner workings of the emperors palace and its hierarchy.” He clasps the book shut with both hands, placing it onto the ever growing pile behind him before picking up another heavy volume with gold engravings on the spine. The red head looked at the book before his gaze trailed up to his teachers face. There is no way this boy was older than sixteen, and yet he’s sitting on the corner of his desk acting like his boss. According to Keqing who assigned Xingqiu as his tutor, the boy comes from a long line of nobles that had been famed to teach Liyue etiquette to both the descendants of emperors and empresses.

“A summary of the hierarchy would be Emperor Zhongli of course, followed by his son Xiao - “

“His son?” Childe asks, curiosity getting the best of him. ‘I didn’t know Zhongli was married.’ He put a finger to his chin and leaned back into his chair, hiding his troubled expression behind his hand.

“Yes, the sole prince of Liyue and only son of the emperor, Xiao. He is twenty this year, but isn’t taking the throne.” the blue haired boy shrugs as if the information was not anything special before flipping to another page of the thick book. Childe still lost in thought was thinking about the possibilities of Zhongli’s wife and himself having a child together, but still allowing the emperor to take a concubine for the sake of his country.

“He’s the current head of the Liutian army.” His tutor realises that he was no longer paying attention and raises a brow. He figures the prince must have some troubling thoughts to forgo listening to him altogether.

“He’s adopted.” Xingqiu says. He wants to burst out laughing when the information clearly did not reach Childe’s ears, but chooses to muffle his giggle behind his hand. He watches the prince's furrowed brows and smiles gently. Might as well continue reading from the book if the prince was not going to pay attention to his detailed explanations. “After the prince would be the eight heads of the Liyue Qixing starting with the Tianquan, who oversees the law and governance.” Xingqiu continues, the sun setting through the window behind him colouring the room in an orange hue.

- ‘The emperor has a son, which means he has a wife’ was the one thing Childe really took away from his first tutoring lesson with the young noble. He lies down on his bed staring at the ceiling above him, feeling the air gently blow through his open window surrounding him in comforting cold winds. It felt nowhere near as cold as Snezhnaya, but it would have to do for the night. The prince tended to do his thinking in the dead of night while the wind rustled through his fluffy hair.

‘The previous Tsar before mother had over eight omegas as concubines, but mother has never taken a husband.’ He thought, rolling onto his side and propping his head up onto his arm. Through his window, he could see the gorgeous garden filled with trees and white stone walls that sat between the emperor's palace and the palace he currently resides in. Deciding to get off his bed, he walked over to the window letting his long robes drag across the floor, tucking the long fabric under his legs while he situated himself on the bench beside the window.

‘Maybe mom is right? Would I actually have to work hard to impress the emperor?’ He furrows his brow in thought which he found himself doing very often since he had arrived at the palace. Childe thought himself to be the adaptable type, able to mold himself into any situation and conquer the harshest of conditions.

And yet, being treated like a soft and gentle omega was the strangest thing he had ever experienced in his lifetime.

‘Are soft and gentle someone Zhongli likes?’ Childe gets off his bench to walk over to the floor to ceiling mirror in the corner of his room. He looks at himself in the mirror with the robes wrapped tightly around his waist, and yet it was still loose enough to slip off slightly. He wasn’t very much the image of an ‘omega’, having more sharp angles than soft curves, and he is tall nearly the same height as the emperor. Overall in comparison to other omegas he had seen around the palace they had been the exact opposite of him.

Small, soft types with curves and usually very pretty with large doe eyes.

‘I’m more handsome than pretty.’ Childe thinks as he grabs his hip bones with both hands. ‘Sharp.’ He continues to pat his body, feeling the toned muscle and bone on him from years of working for the Tsaritsa. His hands trail to his toned stomach and rubs it in circles with the palm of his hand. He had always thought the best feature of his Harbinger uniform was that it had normally exposed his stomach, which was a part of him that he was proud of. It was sexy to say the least and it aided him agility wise on the battlefield, but now he wasn’t sure. Were omegas supposed to expose themselves like that?

‘I could make the effort. Zhongli is kinda handsome, I guess.’ He rolls his eyes, as if he had now been openly gawking the first time he met the emperor. ‘And helping the Tsaritsa is my priority.’

“Damn, I’ve never been this body conscious in my life.” He walks away from the mirror, but turns to look back at himself, eyes directly dropping to the shape of his ass in the mirror. He laughs a little pathetically before running a hand through his hair.

“This guy doesn’t know me, so it wouldn’t be too hard to hide the fact I was practically a tyrant back home!” With full confidence, he turned to face the mirror and crossed his arms, beaming at his prettier doppelganger in the mirror. He met his eyes, smile falling a little. Who was he kidding, he felt so out of place.

“Right?”

[rareficsnstuff]

Happy Halloween!! [Akaashi, Tendou, Bokuto]

AN: Okay, Anon, I hope the wait was worth it. I was suddenly inspired by the recent holiday so I combined your request with that element and I thought it made sense to place it in the Kuroo, Bokuto, Tendou post high-school roommates AU that I accidentally started here. Enjoy!!

Summary: Akaashi is invited to a costume party at Bokuto, Kuroo, and Tendou’s apartment, but everyone is less than pleased about his costume. And where’s Tendou?

Words: 3,878

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The doorbell’s tone mixed with the cacophony of chatter that buzzed endlessly throughout the apartment. It caught the attention of Kuroo, who had been conversing with some friends on the couch.

“Bo, that’s your turn!” he shouted over his shoulder to the kitchen.

“Yeah!” came Bokuto’s boisterous, garbled reply before he quickly threw the last bit of candy bar into his mouth and made his way over to the door. He swung the door open jarringly and it collided with the wall behind, leaving a nick in the paint.

“You shouldn’t slam doors. Be more careful, Bokuto,” the new guest scolded calmly.

“AKAASHIII! Hey, hey, hey!! You showed up ~.” Akaashi stood there looking bored, hands clasped behind his back, but as soon as the elder was finished with his verbal greeting, the younger found himself being pulled into a suffocating bear-like hug and lifted off the ground by his overjoyed friend.

“B-Bokuto… I can’t breathe… P-please put me down,” he choked out as he awkwardly hung in Bokuto’s grasp.

“Oh, sorry!” he all but dropped Akaashi on the ground, rubbing his neck and smiling sheepishly while Akaashi removed his coat and hung it with the rest of the guests’. “So… a ghost, yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s all I had. Sorry…” Akaashi’s ‘costume’ consisted of a white thermal top, a pair of old ripped jeans, sneakers of no particular sort, and the classic white triangle strapped to his head.

“No, no! I like it! It’s like… modern ghost,” Bokuto punctuated with a grand, theatrical wave of his hands. “You look cool!”

“You’re wearing the same costume you’ve worn every year since I met you. Why don’t you ever try something different?”

“Why would I try something different?! This is the perfect costume! Owls are so cool, Why wouldn’t I be one every year?!” Bokuto shouted proudly. Akaashi’s response was to simply stare blankly.

“Right, stupid question. Sorry…” he added dryly. Bokuto shrugged, throwing a hearty slap to Akaashi’s back, knocking the wind out of the younger and making him stumble forward.

“Okay, okay, come in, Akaashi!! You have to see what Tendou and Kuroo did with the decorations! They’re awesome!!” Bokuto cheered, closing the door and pushing Akaashi further inside by his shoulders. “Oh, and their costumes are cool, too! But I bet you can’t guess what Tendou is ~,” he sang in a challenging tone. Akaashi sighed.

At that moment, Kuroo looked over his shoulder at the commotion by the front door. “Heeey, Akaashi! Good ta see ya!” He stood, moving towards them to clap Akaashi on the shoulder. Akaashi’s jaw fell.

“What the-- “

“Whoa, wait a minute, where’s your costume?!” Kuroo fussed, pointing a disappointed finger at Akaashi’s chest. The shorter made a lame gesture of presenting himself with a lazy wave of his hand over his body before he let his hand fall back limply to his side.

“… That’s it…” less of a question, and more of a disappointed statement. Akaashi additionally pointed to the white triangle on his forehead. “Oh, yeah. That’s- that’s much better. Your costume’s pretty wimpy there, Akaashi…” Kuroo finished, dropping the sarcasm.

“It’s all I had,” Akaashi blandly repeated from his earlier conversation with Bokuto.

“Really…” Kuroo’s tone irritated Akaashi. Was he trying to pick a fight or something? The shorter’s eyes narrowed ever-so slightly, but Kuroo still picked up on it. Kuroo reached out, grabbing Akaashi’s headpiece and pulling it away only to let it snap back into place. Akaashi winced, lifting a hand to swat Kuroo’s away.

“Speaking of costumes, what the hell is yours supposed to be?!” Damn… provocation expert for a reason, huh? Akaashi didn’t care right now, though – he just felt like glaring at pain-in-the-ass Kuroo just at the moment. Kuroo smirked with a chuckle.

“What, you can’t tell?” he stopped, waiting for Akaashi to try and guess. Akaashi only continued scowling. “Mad scientist, dud! C’mon!” Sure enough, Kuroo was wearing a white lab coat spattered in fake blood and green faux chemicals over a worn out, grey t-shirt. He had an old pair of torn up corduroys that didn’t quite reach his ankles, long, neon green socks and some old brown loafers that were about a size-and-a-half too large. His hair though, was the real eye catcher: people who knew him would immediately be drawn to the fact that you could see both eyes!! Gone was his usual style of rooster-esque bedhead. He must have spent a lot of time and product to get all his unruly, wiry locks to stand strait up like that. The final details – Akaashi felt were a bit over the top – were a bit of dark eye makeup beneath his eyes – to make him look sleep-deprived, Akaashi supposed – and a pair of large and broken, circular-framed glasses hanging from his t-shirt collar.

“Not much different from how you usually look, is it?” Akaashi snarked. Kuroo’s haughty smirk fell.

“Someone’s in a bad mood tonight,” Bokuto interjected, looking awkwardly between the two.

“Hey, Akaashi, you seen Tendou tonight yet?” Kuroo asked. There was an odd, baiting tone to the question, but Akaashi couldn’t begin to guess where this was going.

“No. I just got here.”

“Well, unlike yours ~, his costume is superb! And I bet you can’t guess what it is?” Kuroo almost growled. There was no question that was a challenge. Now Akaashi just needed to decide if he cared.

Perplexed, Akaashi asked, “What are you getting at?” Kuroo only grinned, eyes glinting mischievously and Akaashi’s brows furrowed untrustingly in response.

“Oh hey, Bo, it’s almost 8 o’clock! I gotta get going!”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries, man! Say hi to Kenma for me, okay?” Bokuto replied sweetly.

“Sure thing!” One final swig from a cup of apple cider nearby, a clap on Bokuto’s back and an elbow nudge at Akaashi before a quick stop at the entryway closet to grab his coat and Kuroo was out the door.

“Kuroo tried to get Kenma to come, but I guess the shrimp wanted to stay in this year. So he’s gonna go spend the rest of the night over there and watch horror movies n’ stuff…” Bokuto explained.

Suddenly, from somewhere in the apartment, there was a shout followed by a string of giggles. Akaashi figured it was coming from one of the bedrooms, but he didn’t really care too much; probably some idiots on a sugar high from all the candy and sweets. He rolled his eyes, but Bokuto looked towards the commotion and chuckled.

“Hey, hey, Akaashi! Look at this!” Bokuto exclaimed, suddenly jumping to one side only to stand in front of a black light that was set up against a wall. He crouched into a kneel on one leg with is arms wrapped around him like a vampire, the feathered sleeves and horned (and beaked) hood of the owl onesie providing more cover to his face. Pausing there a moment – to build suspense? – he suddenly looked up dramatically whilst simultaneously throwing his arms open in a ‘menacing’ way, his face dramatized into a bold, sneering grin. The light from behind caught his form, lighting up the white in his costume and face, making him look like a gargoyle from a children’s television program. Though that probably wasn’t quite the affect Bokuto had been going for. Akaashi stared, trying to process what he was looking at and contain the urge to press his palm across his face.

“Very spooky, Bokuto…” he finally said, to which the ‘gargoyle’ stood to his full height, fists on his hips, and laughed triumphantly – obnoxiously, in Akaashi’s opinion. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss this at all and he found one corner of his mouth lifting. Only a little.

“Didn’t my roomies do a great job on the decorations?!” Bokuto asked proudly. Akaashi looked around, fully observing the décor for the first time.

“Yeah, they really did. The place looks great,” he said truthfully. Again, there was a sudden burst of laughter from somewhere in the apartment. Two voices this time, one more desperate than the other. Akaashi’s head snapped in that direction for a second before glancing back at Bokuto who was, again, grinning in that direction before he turned to meet Akaashi’s eyes with another chuckle.

“Anyways, there’s lots of food and drinks n’ stuff in the kitchen, so help yourself. And you have to try the apple cider; that’s my grandma’s recipe! It’s awesome!” he finished, pumping a fist into the air as he turned and went to mingle with his other guests.

Akaashi stood there awkwardly for half a minute before he decided to fix himself a plate of food. The evening was pleasant enough; he caught up with several old friends and acquaintances and even met some great new people. These were all friends and teammates from Bokuto, Kuroo, and Tendou’s high school years. All pleasant people in their own ways and Akaashi was almost fully enjoying himself after the whole Kuroo dispute. He hadn’t seen much of Bokuto since he left him to his own devices but the elder seemed to be getting around. He was in his element after all – one of them anyways. Every so often, however, there were those random bouts of laughter coming from somewhere in the apartment. He was never in the same room when it happened though; anytime he moved to another room, whatever was going on had suddenly moved to the room he had just left. And he had yet to spot the elusive Tendou...

By about 11 o’clock, the majority of the guests had gone home and more were trickling out by the minute. He and Washio were the only two left in the living room, comfortably chatting on the couch. Even then, with all the rest of the non-residential people left in that apartment, laughter once again sounded through the apartment. Bokuto’s laughter. Loud and boisterous intermingled with (apparently) Tendou’s own laughter. Akaashi thought about asking Washio if he knew anything about this, but decided against it, and all too soon, Washio was excusing himself to go home, going to find the other two for a quick goodbye before he grabbed his coat and walked out the door. Akaashi found himself alone, slowly nursing the last of his eighth glass of apple cider.

“Yooo ~, Akaashi ~! Haven’t seen you all night!” Akaashi turned to see, finally, Tendou emerging from the darkened hallway. Akaashi froze. What the hell was he looking at?!

Bokuto trailed in behind him looking like he’d just run a ten minuet mile; panting and cheeks glowing red, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead.

“Yeah, I guess… I guess we just kept missing each other… I’ve been here since eight,” Akaashi stammered, almost in a daze as his expression became something like concerned confusion. He was so distracted by-- what in god’s name was Tendou wearing?!

“Alright! Hang on! Wait! Full stop! Is that your costume?!” Tendou accused pointing a disgusted finger at Akaashi as his face twisted into abhorred imploration. The younger had to close his eyes, taking a minute to inhale deeply through his nose and release it in a heavy, frustrated sigh.

“Yes. It’s all. I had,” Akaashi bit out.

“Whoa, whoa, no need to get huffy, Kaashi, just making an observation,” Tendou attempted to sooth.

“You were making a criticism…”

“And what the hell are you supposed to be, Tendou!” Akaashi shouted, suddenly jumping to his feet.

“Yeah, you’re right, I was- but you gotta admit… your costume’s shit-“

“Akaashiii ~,” Bokuto sang, finally speaking up. “You’re supposed to guess ~.” The two residents both smiled at their guest, Bokuto’s expression was affectionate and playful while Tendou’s was smug.

Fuzzy. Red. Neck to ankles. Like he had taken part of an Elmo costume from a thrift store. There was a pair of matching red yeti slippers to complete the coverage while his fingernails had been painted black and a pair of black horns peeking out amidst his mess of spiky, red hair. The finishing touch, a bright green, feather boa lei necklace.

“How the hell am I supposed to guess?! You look like you just grabbed the first handful of things you could find at a second hand store!”

“Well, at least we know I put in more effort than you,” Tendou sassed to which Akaashi huffed. There went his good mood. “Anyways, you seem a little grumpy today, don’t you ~?”

“Yeah he’s kinda been that way tonight,” Bokuto confirmed, much to Akaashi’s growing irritation.

“I wonder why…” Akaashi mumbled under his breath.

“So… You really can’t guess what I am, Kaashi?” Tendou purred, creeping towards their grumpy ‘ghost’ guest.

“No. I have no idea. Wha- what are you-- ”

“You really need to guess what he is, Akaashi. But don’t worry, we can help you out with that ~,”

“Guys… What’s going on? You’re kinda freaking me out- please stop inching towards me.”

“I’ll inch wherever I want,” Tendou snipped playfully, looming ever closer to Akaashi and his growing unease of the situation. The red-head had him so distracted – and, frankly, terrified – that he entirely forgot Bokuto had been creeping up behind him.

“AH! BOKUTO! Put me down!” His old Captain had grabbed him from behind, scooping him up by hooking his arms under his Kohai’s. Now Akaashi’s heels were lifted off the ground and he could just barely manage to stand on tip toe. His arms dangled out to the side as he waved them around uselessly and his white thermal rose up to reveal a sliver of skin at his stomach.

“Still no ideas ~?” Tendou’s voice was oozing with mischief, giving Akaashi one final chance.

“… Wanna feel how hard I can kick?” Akaashi bit, snidely, making Tendou chuckle. And that was the last straw.

“Grmph!” Akaashi choked on a grunt, eyes widening into saucers and lips pressing together into a tight line. Every muscle in his body locked up in panic, but when Tendou’s thumbs on his sides continued in those unbearable kneading circles, he could feel himself starting to twitch and his diaphragm beginning to flutter with oncoming laughter. The laughter itself started as exhaled huffs of air and sharp inhales through his nose as his eyes closed and lips curled up more and more as the maddening sensation built.  When Tendou switched his touch to a claw-like kneading up and down his quivering sides, Akaashi couldn’t help the light chuckles that slipped from his throat as he turned his face into his shoulder and bit his lip to try and contain some of his more ridiculous reactions. Bokuto and Tendou grinned at each other.

“Oh, Kaashi… I think you can do better ~,” Tendou cooed, traveling his torturous claws upwards just to nibble at his lowest ribs. This had him spasming and trying to back away from the silly touch, but Bokuto easily prevented that sort of escape. The thing about Akaashi, though…, he didn’t hate his laugh, but… he had always been embarrassed to laugh fully in front of people. He didn’t even know why but, in this situation, he couldn’t really help it.

“Ppphht-hehe-- nooohohohahaaa!” Akaashi’s laughter picked up along with his struggling. He gave a few valiant attempts to pull his arms down, but ultimately realized that, with Bokuto being the one holding him in place, there was no chance of that… So, in a desperate attempt to protect himself, he reflexively brought his knees up as a flimsy barrier against Tendou’s searching hands.

“Oh, no, sorry, Akaashi. That isn’t gonna help you, bud,” Bokuto teased, feigning  pity as he turned his hands to flutter his fingers at Akaashi’s ears, making him squeak and shake his head. Tendou cackled at this.

“You would know, wouldn’t you, Bo-Bo!” he said, grinning. Keeping one hand at Akaashi’s ribs, he moved the other to one of the now presented knees, making him kick out in reflex. Tendou must have been expecting this response, because he stepped aside just in time to not be kicked in the gut. All hilarity aside, he did not actually want to know how hard Akaashi could kick. “Easy there, Kaashi…”

“Naho! S-stohop thahaaaat!” Stupid Bokuto! Why did he have to be so strong?! With all Akaashi’s flailing, his former Captain wouldn’t budge!

“You’re sooo wiggly ~!” the red-head teased, moving to loop an arm around Akaashi’s kicking leg so he could hold it in place while he scribbled black painted nails at the inside of his knee through a hole in his jeans while still keeping one hand free to explore elsewhere. “Soooo? What am I, Kaashi  ~? Any ideas yet?”

“Drohop dead!” Akaashi giggled, quite unthreateningly.

“Alright, now that wasn’t even an attempt at a guess… And it was kinda mean…” Bokuto said from behind, still occasionally ghosting against his ears just to get that squeak again.

“Yeeeah! It was kinda mean!” Tendou agreed, ominously. The tickling stopped and Tendou dropped Akaashi’s captive leg. The ‘ghost’ took this chance to catch his breath, finally letting his feet reunite with the ground and attempting to regain some composure – but with his pink face, glossy eyes, and twitching lips, there was little hope for that. It was a couple seconds later that Akaashi realized that it was quiet and the other two had yet to do anything. Bashfully, he looked up, meeting Tendou’s predatory gaze and impish smirk. The sight made Akaashi’s blood run cold.

“You’ve really done it now,” Tendou started, dangerously. “You’ve disrespected me. You’d better tell me who I am… Or I’ll never stop.” With that, at lightning speed, one hand latched itself to Akaashi’s hip while the other fused with his ribs, fingers kneading, digging, worming, and spidering any way they could, looking for the best reactions. Akaashi careened when Tendou vibrated his fingers into his hip, wheezing around his laughter. To be honest, Akaashi hadn’t even really been thinking about what Tendou’s horrendous costume could be; caught off guard by the sudden tickling and then being too busy laughing… he didn’t have the time or focus.

“Wait a minute, Tendou, hang on…” Bokuto said, sounding way too excited for Akaashi’s liking. To his horror, Akaashi suddenly felt Bokuto slipping his arms out from under his only to readjust his hold to have both his Kohai’s wrists held above his head in one hand. He couldn’t have resisted that if he tried.

“OOooo!” Tendou sang, fingers wiggling excitedly. “Thanks Bo-Bo!”

“Oh no, noho, no, no, no- guys, please! Pleahese dohahaaaahahaha!” With his torso fully vulnerable, Tendou dove right in once more, switching between scribbling, massaging, and vibrating. Akaashi was screeching. He seriously couldn’t remember giggling so hard in his life, with his wrists tugging desperately (but uselessly) at Bokuto’s restraining grip and his face getting redder by the minute-- god was he crying? “GAAA! B-Bokuhuhuhehee! Bohokutoho, DON’Ttthehehe!” And it was getting worse. Bokuto had started running his fingers along his spine, digging his finger into the backs of his ribs, and scratching at his shoulder blades and neck.

“Awww ~ Look at you all ticklish, Akaashi ~. I can’t believe I never knew about this ~,” Bokuto cooed, grinning at the way Akaashi arched away from his touch.

“Yeah, you’re really losing it here, Kaashi ~. Is it that bad ~? Is this just completely unbearable ~?” Tendou’s baby talk had him burying his face in his arm once again, stomping a foot on the wood floor – a vain attempt to alleviate the hilarious, buzzing sensations coursing through him. “Well, it’s gonna get worse, boyo. Who. Am. I?” The way Tendou’s voice shifted so quickly and drastically from baby talk to that ominously, teasing tone… If Akaashi wasn’t laughing so hard, he’d probably be cowering in fear right now.

“WHOAHAHA! HEHEY! NoaaAAA, NOHAAO!” Oops… there was a squeal in there… Yeah, he was never living this down. But Tendou had started running one hand from one of Akaashi’s underarms, down to his hip, while his other hand did the opposite: from his hip, up to his underarm. Akaashi’s brain couldn’t keep up. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor as much as Bokuto’s grip would allow.

“C’mon, Akaashi, you gotta have an idea by now, don’t you?” Bokuto asked, fingers nibbling at the base of his neck. The poor guy didn’t know which way to squirm. Akaashi nodded weakly, tears definitely falling now.

“Oh do you?! Aaand ~?” Tendou inquired, now concentrating solely on his victim’s hips. Akaashi stumbled forward, neck too weak to lift his head to protect against Bokuto’s ongoing attack and only allowing his head to hang down pathetically as he cackled like no one had ever heard him do before.

“AAAAHAha! PleaHA-- YOU-HA-- YOUHA’RE THE T-t-heehehehe! T-t-tTIHICKLE MOHONSTEHEHER! STAHA--! PLEAHEEESE- STAHAHAAAP!!” Wow… Now he had resorted to begging. They were never, ever going to let him live this down.

“Sorry, what was that, ghosty boy ~? I couldn’t quite catch it ~.” And of course Tendou was going to drag this out. He is the tickle monster after all…

Tendou went from massaging Akaashi’s poor hips to vibrating claws into them while Bokuto also switched to poke around under his arms.

“TIHICKLE MONSTER! YOHOU’RE THE T-TICKLE MOHONSTEHEHAHAAAA!”

“rrrRRRIGHT YOU ARE, BOYO!” And finally, the tickling stopped. For good this time and Bokuto released his wrists to gently lower him to the ground where he crumpled into a giggling lump as the other two grinned down at him fondly. “I gotta say, Kaashi, I’m pretty disappointed… It took you waaaay longer to figure it out than anyone else.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Akaashi panted lightly. “You look like you just grabbed a bunch of stuff from a second hand store and threw ‘em together into that disaster…” He opened one eye to glance playfully at Tendou.

“You want me to tickle you some more ~? Bo-Bo, get-- ”

“NO! No, okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The younger pleaded, making his two Sempai snicker.

“Well, actually, you’re not far off. That’s just about what I did do. I’d had the idea planned out for months, but I still needed the pieces, so I thought the easiest way to find them was second hand stores at stuff…” Tendou replied, a pondering expression on his face as he recalled the experience. Akaashi chuckled, throwing a palm over his eyes when Bokuto joined in heartily and Tendou followed soon after in his own string of wild giggles. When they had all calmed down, Tendou extended a hand to help Akaashi up who graciously accepted.

“Okay, be honest, Kaashi… is that really all you had ~?” the red-head prodded, cocking an eyebrow incredulously at the younger. Akaashi grinned.

“No. Heh… I just didn’t want to deal with it. I grabbed the first thing out of my closet and made the headpiece out of an old napkin!” he finished just before breaking out into giggles again and sending the other two over the edge as well.

“Hey, I still think it looks great!” Bokuto chirped, clapping Akaashi on the back.

“Thanks, Bokuto,” Akaashi said, grinning at his former Captain.

“Happy Halloween, everybody!!” Tendou exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air jubilantly, making the other two laugh again. Akaashi shook his head.

“Weirdest Halloween ever…”

[galaxyedging]

Reflection

Casskane on AO3

Summary:

More Mando fluff. Spoilers for season 2 'The Believer'. Din tells you about something that happened on the mission, fluffy times happen.

Work Text:

You stood watching the reflection of the flames as they danced across the Mandalorian's helmet. His stillness would be off putting to most but to you it was telling. It's not as if Din didn't often sit so still that he resembled a powered down droid, you just knew him better. You'd travel with him on and off since he rescued the kid. You yourself had broken into the Imp's base after hearing the little green guy calling for help. You had escaped with Mando just to get off the planet. It was only during a quiet moment on Sorgan that you told Mando about exactly how you had hear the kid and realised you were better off sticking together.

You had been laying low in a cheap motel on Navarro. One night you awoke, laid there in the relative silence listening out for the sound that had woken you. You were shivering despite the heat. The hairs on your neck stood on end then you heard it. You'd had months to think about that night by the time you explained it to Mando, even after going over and over it in your mind, you still couldn't quite describe it. It was akin to listening to the melody of a long forgotten song and having some of the lyrics come back to you. You couldn't make out exactly what words were spoken or the language that was being used but the message was clear to you, "Help me".

After 'acquiring' a Trooper uniform you'd infiltrated the base, only to come face to face, figuratively at least, with Mando. He drew his blaster on you but hesitated for a moment. In that couple of seconds you heard a door open behind you. You instinctively dropped to the floor and drew your own blaster. Between the two of you you took out the four Troopers that piled though the door. After a quick silent exchange you both lowered your blasters and you lead Mando to the child. You'd later asked Mando why he hesitated. He'd shrugged and said he thought you were a little short for a Stormtrooper. It was the first hint of humour you'd heard from him. Rising up to your full height, from were you had sat in the cargo hold, you quipped that you were tall enough to be a Mandalorian, pointing out that you were only a couple of inches shorter than him. He'd let out a breathy chuckle and you'd blushed slightly when you realized how close you had been standing to him and the way it has made you feel.

You made a firm decision to lock any thoughts about Mando stemming from that moment away in your mind and never open them. Starting something more that the necessary partnership you two had had bad idea written all over it.

You suddenly realized that Mando had turned his attention from the fire to you standing in the doorway of your accommodation for the night. You had all decided to get some rest before going after Moff Gideon. Boba Fett brought you to a tiny abandoned outpost on a backwater planet. Each hut was only big enough for one person, all they contained was a bed, small cupboard with a lantern on top and a chair. Seven huts in total with a fire pit in the middle. It's position on top of a hill made it defensible. You looked at each other for a long while. It was just getting to the point of being uncomfortable when Din stood and made his way to you. "Can we talk?" His voice was raspier than usual and his tone told you that what ever he had to say was important. "Of course." You moved back into your hut, you gestured to the chair intending to sit next to him on the bed.

After you closed the door you realized he hadn't taken a seat rather he stood facing it. You took a moment to study his body language. Even though he was weary and sore was the mission on Morak his posture was still stiff and tense. It wasn't that surprising considering the situation but Din usually had a way of coping with stress and taken his downtime when he could.

"Mando?" you asked lowering the hand you had unconsciously reached out to him with "Are you ok?".

He slowly turned to you, a bitter huff of laughter escaping him. You realized how stupid your question was given the circumstances. You opened your mouth to clarify when he spoke again "I removed my helmet. In front of others." The weight of what he had just said hit you in the gut. You had begged him to let you remove his helmet on Navarro to save his life. It was the moment you had realised how much he meant to you. He had refused and in turn begged you to get yourself and the kid to safety.

When you met up again after him meeting some other Mandalorians, that removed their helmets freely, he told you all about it and his resolve to his creed seemed as strong as ever.

You stayed silent, you had no idea what to say to him. After a moment he continued "Mayfield saw an officer he served under. He didn't want to take the risk of being recognized so I tried to access the terminal." his voice sounded distant as if he was telling a story that happened to someone else "It scanned my helmet and started a countdown..I...I didn't have a choice. It was the only way. If I lose the kid..." he trailed off.

You moved closer to him, anyone else you'd reach out to them, offer a comforting touch but laying your hand on Mando's basker didn't seem to offer the same meaning to you. "You did the right thing." you smiled brightly at him. "We're going to get him back."

His shoulders dropped like a tension wire between them had been snipped. "I know and until I seek guidance from the Amourer I will continue to honour my creed."

You gave another reassuring smile "So you're good for now?" He let out a long sigh

"No." Your heart sank. This time you did lay your hand on him. His arm had been raised slightly across him body and you placed your hand on his forearm. He looked down at the contact.

"Din?" You pressed. You'd never spoken his real name before. His helmet snapped up to you at the sound of it.

"I've thought about removing my helmet...." he paused at your slight gasp."....once or twice. Never did I think that Mayfield would be the first person I knew in over 30 years to see my face." He looked down at your hand again. This time he covered it with his own. "I thought....well, I thought it would be you."

He pushed your hand down gently to remove his arm from where you had now begun to grasp it. Before you could fully comprehend what he was saying he lifted his hands to his helmet. There was a hissing sound just as you grabbed his arms to still them.

"Wait!" The gravity of the moment struck you. What this meant to him. What you must mean to him. You began to ramble, trying to convey your feelings to him. ." You don't have to...I mean, it doesn't change anything....the helmet, it doesn't change how I feel...I still..." you took in a quivering breathe unable to finish the last thought out loud, only silently admitting it to yourself.

You heard a smile in Din's voice as he said "I know." You loosened your grip on his arms and let him remove his helmet. He dropped it with a dull thud onto the bed as you stared at him. Something between a nervous laugh and a chuckle of delight bubbled up from inside you. He narrowed his eyes at you before you explained. "Maker, you're handsome." You mentally berated yourself. The poor man was risking something that was a huge part of his life, his identity, his life in an incredible, beautiful gesture to you and that's all you can say.

"Really?" Din asked nervously running his hand through his hair. He had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Your big, tough faceless Mandalorian being suddenly being so vulnerable and awkward in front of you. He began to laugh too. Once the laughter subsided you couldn't help but reach out to touch his face. You laid your palm against the side of his face and rubbed you thumb gently over his cheek. He leaned into you touch. He removed his glove and mirrored the same action to you. His hand was warm and softer than you would have thought. You removed your hand from his face to take his hand in yours. You turned you head slightly as you brought his hand to you lips and laid a gentle kiss to his palm. Din closed his eyes and moaned lightly at the feeling.

You intertwined your fingers with his pulled him closer to you. His free hand made it's way up to cup the side of your head. You took a second to lean into it before looking back at Din. His warm brown eyes were looking into yours and you notice the tip of his tongue quickly sweep across his bottom lip. He leaned in towards you. "Mando!" Boba Fett's voice rang out across the outpost. You could hear his heavy footsteps approaching. Din replaced his helmet just as you saw Boba's armoured shoulder pass the small window behind Din. He knocked on your door. "Y/N?" Din sighed before answering for you "I'm here." Din dipped his head apologetically towards you, heading out the door to speak to the other man.

You sighed, taking a moment to try and sort out all the feelings rushing through you. Most prominently, annoyance, at Boba for interrupting. Din had left the door open so you moved forward to close it. Still lost in your thoughts you were startled when Din's gloved hand gripped the edge of the door and pushed it open. He slipped back inside, kicking the door shut with his foot while removing his helmet. He moved in a blur. You felt the cold of his baskar helmet press into the small of you back, as he wrapped the arm that held it around you. His ungloved hand came to the back of your neck and he pressed his lips to yours. They were softer than you'd imagine all those time lying in the dark aboard the Razor Crest. He kept them firmly pressed to yours for few moments before pulling away. For a very tame, chaste kiss and considering you'd never been at a lost for company in your life, it was easily the most passionate, incredible kiss you'd ever had. He leaned his forehead against yours, his warm breath fanning your face as he panted slightly. "I told him I had something important to do. I better go see what he wanted." Replacing his helmet he slipped out into the night leaving you to flop down on your bed as you grinned like a giddy teenager.

[samstree]

You are too well tangled in my soul (5/5)

(Geraskier, 1.6k, time travel, hurt/comfort, soft geralt, now complete, cw: mentions of abuse)

Inspired by The Time Traveler’s Wife. 

Read on AO3

Yennefer comes in a whirlwind of buzzing magic, a portal opening up in the middle of the empty courtyard, blowing up the melting snow everywhere.

Of course she can come through the protective ward around the keep like it’s nothing.

She steps onto the ground of Kaer Morhen with her usual poise, all shiny raven curls and sparkling eyeshadows, breathtaking as ever. Only her proud demeanor shifts into something marginally softer when those enchanting violet eyes fall on Ciri.

The princess approaches the sorceress in tentative steps, before picking up the pace and running into her embrace. Yennefer is visibly taken aback by the sheer force of it but soon gives back a loose hug. The girl, being a head shorter than Yennefer, steps back and smiles brightly.

“I saw you in my dreams.”

Those violet eyes become more curious.

Beside Jaskier, Geralt’s voice rumbles deeply. “Yen, this is Ciri. My Child Surprise.”

The corner of her lips quicks up. “Nice to meet you, Ciri.”

*

In the main hall, Jaskier sits in front of the fire and watches the three of them talk quietly at the table.

A lost princess with immeasurable chaos in her body, a witcher who protects humanity with nothing but two swords on his back, and a sorceress so powerful she scorched an entire Nilfgaardian army all by herself.

They make a perfect family, beautiful, powerful, and well-matched.

Lost in thoughts and the wine in his cup, Jaskier never notices the young princess going off to sword lessons with Vesemir or even Geralt settling down on the thick carpet next to him.

The witcher adjusts the blanket draped on Jaskier’s knees absent-mindedly. “By the way, Yen, what did you think of our ward?”

“It’d be a good idea.” The sorceress looks down at Geralt, posture elegant from the vantage point of the chair. Her hand flattens the folded wrinkles on her embroidered dress. “Don’t worry, Geralt. I’ll enhance it for you so no mage can get through. You child will be safe in here.”

Geralt’s voice turns solemn. “Thank you, Yen. And thank you for coming.”

“I came for her.” Yennefer’s gaze studies Geralt up and down with a piercing curiosity, and softens ever so slightly. “Fatherhood looks good on you.”

Geralt hums without answering.

“Did you ever doubt destiny’s decision?” Jaskier challenges her, regrettably drawing attention to himself.

Yennefer finally looks at Jaskier for the first time since she arrived, amusement creeping into her expression. Geralt sighs long-sufferingly next to Jaskier, braced for the usual snarky jabs between these two.

“Bard.”

“Witch.”

Yennefer raises an eyebrow. “The gray hair suits you.”

“Not being tortured by Nilfgaard suits you.”

From his peripheral, Jaskier sees Geralt tense but keeps his eyes on the sorceress. Framed by the flickering candlelight, everything beautiful about her now is a sharp contrast to the last time Jaskier saw her – tied up, depleted of magic, and covered in blood.

Her lips curve dangerously. “Still saved your sorry ass, didn’t I?”

This time when Jaskier returns her smile, it’s genuine. “You are right about that one. I never got to show any gratitude.” Geralt’s questioning gaze is burning a hole on Jaskier, but he’ll have to wait. Jaskier continues the peace-offering. “So thank you, really. It’s good to see you again, Yen.”

“Don’t call me that.” She takes a jab at him but there’s no malice. “And destiny often makes shit decisions. You should know.”

Yennefer looks between the two of them and Jaskier’s breath hitches. Somehow the sorceress knows about their bond. Jaskier turns to look at an equally startled Geralt. “Did you tell her?”

“Oh, please,” She cuts in, “The temporal magic is all over you two. I felt it the day you first barged through my door.” She pulls a sealed letter out of nowhere and holds it before Jaskier’s face. “I only meant this.”

The Pankratz insignia carves into the scarlet wax seal.

The buzzing of the world drowns Jaskier’s heartbeat. It’s been years since he received news from home. Distantly, he knows Geralt is asking if he’s alright, the warmth from the witcher’s large hand seeps through the fabric on his back.

He reaches for the letter and tears through the seal in an instant, and pauses.

“You know what it says.”

“The news traveled faster than a letter.” Yennefer offers a tight smile. “My condolences, Jaskier.”

*

Jaskier is perched on their shared bed while Geralt paces around the room. He clutches the thin piece of paper, reading the words again even if he’s stared at them for so long they’ve begun to blur.

…Alfred Pankratz, Count de Lettenhove, passed away in his sleep three days ago.

Taking a deep breath, Jaskier rubs his eyes when they lose focus, and that’s when he notices how stiff his joints are for staying in the same place for too long.

He blinks and Geralt has come to sit next to him on the mattress, gently prying the letter away from Jaskier’s tense fingers. His knuckles are turning white for gripping it so tightly.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Shaking his head, Jaskier buries his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, who instinctively wraps an arm around him. “I don’t know.” He adds, “Not yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Geralt murmurs.

“Why?” Jaskier nuzzles, seeking comfort. “You never had kind words for the man.”

The pain from childhood flares up again. Memories of sitting by the lake crying and nursing his hurt as a child almost make panic bubble up Jaskier’s throat. He has to calm down by focusing on Geralt’s solid touch and the rise and fall of his breathing.

It does the trick, as always.

“You still mourn him, despite everything.” Geralt answers, drawing circles on Jaskier’s back slowly.

Jaskier lets out a tight chuckle. “I should hate him, and maybe I did for many years. But…in the end, he was just my father.”

They sit in silence. Jaskier melts into Geralt’s continued soothing touches, letting reality sink in. A plan comes together in his head.

“I should go back.”

“To Lettenhove?” The movement on Jaskier’s back stops.

When Jaskier pulls back, there’s apprehension in Geralt’s eyes. His brows furrow in distress so Jaskier eases it away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m still the heir. There are things that require seeing to. I don’t want his title, so I’ll have to be there to renounce it. The estate and all the fortune will go to my cousin – Ferrant is quite a natural leader. He will do well being the head of the family. As for my mother, she’ll want to see me. It’s been too long since I wrote her.”

Geralt frowns again at the idea but reluctantly agrees after a moment.

“I don’t like the idea of you being back there.”

“Oh don’t you worry, my love,” Jaskier says. “It just got me thinking. My father died and they didn’t even have a way of reaching me. If Yennefer hadn’t come across this funeral invite at some random court I would still be in the dark. Not that I’ll be back in time for the funeral of course. It takes too many days just to get down this mountain. Still, it could be nice to see my family again. I’ll be fine, really.”

“Hmm.” Geralt runs his fingers through the hair at Jaskier’s temple, where he knows a strand is peppered with silver as Yennefer so kindly pointed out. “Speaking of. Since when are you best friends with Yen?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jaskier teases him. “I’m sure you’ll have all the time in the world to get the story out of her, now that she’s around to give Ciri magic lessons. I’m sure she won’t paint me in a heroic light in our little Nilfgaardian prison adventure. Too bad I won’t be there to save my image.”

“Jask.” Geralt blinks, taking Jaskier’s wrist in a gentle hold. “You know I’m going with you, right? You are not going alone.”

“But Ciri’s training…”

“Yen is taking her to a safe house just outside of Novigrad. Triss will be there too. The chaos Ciri carries is raw power. It’s so complicated they’ll be lucky to figure it out within a couple of months.”

“Don’t you need to go as well? To stay with them and protect your daughter?”

Geralt smiles at the word daughter. No matter how many times everyone or even Ciri herself uses it, the word still brings him so much joy.

“I’ve had her all winter, taught her a lot about being a witcher. Now she needs to learn from real magic users. Besides, I think she’s getting tired of being cooped up with five men for this long. Staying with the ladies might do her good.”

Jaskier stares at the warmth flowing in those ember eyes, suddenly feeling lighter like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He doesn’t have to do this alone.

“You’ll come with me,” he muses the sentence.

“You’re hurting, Jask. I would never leave you like this.” Geralt’s tone is so casual it’s like he’s stating the weather. Gods, this ridiculous man has no right to make Jaskier’s heart swell three sizes like this.

He picks up Geralt’s hand and presses a kiss to his calloused palm. “We’ll go straight to Novigrad soon as business finishes at home. Even I’ll miss her too much.”

Jaskier gets pull into Geralt’s embrace again, breathing in the smell of the chamomile soap he insists on the witcher during baths. It feels like Geralt is marked by him somehow, covered in his signature scent.

“I love you, Jask.”

“Mm-hmm. Enough to face all the nobles for me.”

Geralt hums, perhaps surprised.

“You know there’s gonna be a lot of them, right? Many will be there to pay respect. I’m a noble, in case you forgot. If you can barely tolerate me, imagine the chaos when we get there.”

The laugh rumbles deep in Geralt’s chest, and soft lips press on Jaskier’s hairline at his temple.

“Only for you, Jaskier.”

*

(Feedbacks are much appreciated! Tell me what you think of it!)

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (2)

part 2 is already here! fun fact, I’ve actually written like 16 chapters and I probs won’t always be posting weekly but I really wanted to put out part 2 sooooo... yeah. The Tom Holland x reader high school AU continues

Story Masterlist

Warnings: mild language

Word Count: 2365 (shorter than before, I know)

% approximately 1st week of September %

The next week had been relatively uneventful. Mrs. Flynn gave you both an A on your budget for the first week.

She also drew the next weekly condition, which for you was a $300 doctor’s visit of one family member.

“Well that’s stupid. If this were real life, we wouldn’t even need to take our kids to the doctor as PA��s,” Tom argued.

“First off, it’s not real life, and secondly, what if the kid broke a bone? Who’s gonna cast it, genius?”

“Well we probably wouldn’t have to pay,” he grumbled

When Friday afternoon hit, you were almost disappointed to see Tom not in the stands for your game, but remembered that the team had to start all their pregame rituals a couple hours before kickoff.

After crushing the competition, you took a quick shower and put on the shirt every senior was supposed to wear and walked to the field, where some of your friends had already claimed a spot on the bleachers. 

It was still a half hour before kickoff, so you talked as they helped put paint streaks on your cheeks and tie ribbons in your hair to show school spirit. You also watched the boys run drills until they were called to the sidelines for the national anthem. 

The team captains met for the coin toss, and as Tom and his co captain headed back to the team huddle, Tom spotted you in the crowd and pointed directly at you.

You didn’t know what he was doing so you quickly flipped him off and went back to your conversation.

They ended up winning the game by a field goal, and true to his word, Tom had actually played pretty well, aside from getting sacked towards the end of the game. 

You and the girls, not yet wanting to go home, hung out in the parking lot as families left.

“Hey, look. It’s your husband,” Alexis pointed out as Tom and a couple other players came limping down the lot with bags in tow. They were still wearing their football pants but had removed their jerseys, leaving on sleeveless compression shirts.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. But I will say, his mom already loves me. We’re on a first name basis.”

She gave you a little low-five out of pride.

You couldn’t help but notice Tom pull the necklace out from under his shirt’s collar, the ring still attached.

Did he wear that the whole game?

He spotted you from a few yards away and yelled out,

“Hey hey hey. What did I tell you? Swooning yet?” he held his arms out as if to show he was right.

“Not quite, bub. But I’ll give you that touchdown pass. Don’t forget we have to work on the budget tomorrow!”

“Yeah yeah, see you then, princess.” He waved a hand as he continued on to his car.

Ugh. Princess.

Tom had been calling you that ever since the time freshman year you were the leading princess in a school play. 

You had hated the role for many reasons. 

For one, the character had no development and was basically dumb and defenseless (aka the exact opposite of you and everything you stood for). On top of that, the costumes were hideous, and what should have been a couple of pretty ballgowns and flowing skirts ended up being completely unflattering in color, shape, and style.

Everyone knew you hated it, and Tom loved to rub that in your face.

Eventually, you decided to retire home for the night since you had had such a taxing day.

%

You rang the Holland’s doorbell again, and this time it was opened by Tom’s youngest brother, Paddy. He was in the 5th grade, so you didn’t know him well. 

A perfect opportunity to make a good impression.

“Hey there, Paddy. Is Tom around? We’re supposed to work on our project today.”

“I’m not sure where he is, but I’m sure I can find him. Come on in.”

“Oh thank you. So polite.”

He sheepishly looked down as his face reddened. 

“I’ll be right back.”

He ran to the stairs and disappeared up them. A few minutes later an exhausted looking Tom appeared at the top of the stairs next to his brother.

“Come on up, I need to take a piss before we get started.” he called down, ever the charmer. He rubbed his eyes. He was only wearing a pair of sweats.

You followed his word and sat down on his bedroom floor, pulling up the documents on your computer as you waited. He came back wearing a shirt, a mug of coffee in hand.

“Want some? I made it fresh. I just woke up if you couldn’t tell.”

“No thanks. I don’t drink coffee, I find it disgusting. Caffeine addiction’s bad for you anyways.”

He looked down at the drink and back at you.

“Well we can’t all be perfect little princesses.”

You wanted to slap him, but just fired back with an insult and got to work. There wasn’t as much to do today other than reallocate the funds for the appointment and make up a story of what could have happened.

You both laid on your stomachs looking at the screen. As you typed, you heard heavy breathing and glanced over to see Tom had fallen back asleep.

Wow. He almost looks nice when he’s sleeping. What a disappointment.

You finished your paragraph and shook him awake.

“Ugh. sorry. I told you I’m a mess after game days.”

He went to push up to a sitting position when he winced, inhaling sharply. He put his head back on the ground.

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just pulled a muscle in my back last night. I think it’s from that sack.”

“Do you need me to get you something? LIke icy hot or some advil? I carry both at all times.”

“Icy hot would be perfect. I already took some painkillers.”

You shifted up and grabbed your backpack, pulling out the tube. You tossed it next to him to use.

“I hate to ask this, because you’re you, but could you put it on for me? I don’t think I can reach.”

You hesitated, but agreed since you knew what it felt like to be in pain like that. 

“Okay. Give me a general idea of where it is and I’ll poke around to find it.”

“Just under my shoulder blades on the right.”

He pulled up his shirt and you went to touch his back lightly. He flinched when your fingers graced his skin.

“Oh yeah, my hands are cold by the way.”

“No shit.”

You put your hand back, pressing lightly until he winced again, then you put a small amount of the ointment on your hand, massaging it in.

 You rhythmically rubbed your hand over the area in little circles, trying to loosen the tight muscle with your palm. You didn’t think much about it until he let out a moan, and you pulled your hand back like he was on fire.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry. It just felt so good on that spot and it just slipped out-”

“Let’s just agree to never mention this again. I’m gonna go wash my hands. And hopefully my brain while I’m at it. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Just across the hall. Can’t miss it.”

A little bit later and you were finally done for the day, so you helped Tom up and again packed your things.

“Sorry again about earlier. Thanks, though. It really helped.”

“Like I said, we don’t need to talk about it. Just never make that sound again, please. See you Monday.”

And with that you were out the door.

%

Another week, and Mrs. Flynn gave you another A and a budget condition.

Both you and Tom again won at your respective sporting events, and you again went to Tom’s.

Throughout the week, you and Tom had been on your usual game, firing shots. But at home it was like he was a different person. Sure you still jabbed at each other occasionally, but there was a more friendly aspect to it this week.

You were sitting on the floor when you felt a familiar pain in your lower abdomen.

You ignored it for a minute, but then it hit twice as strong. Immediately you shot up.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” you stated, speaking quickly.

“Uh. Okay?”

You rushed in and as you sat down pulled up your period tracker app. 

You weren’t supposed to start for 4 more days.

Well that’s a lie you thought as you caught a streak of red upon wiping.

You dug through the under-sink cabinet, hoping and praying to find something, anything you could use. When that came up dry, you just stuffed up some toilet paper and resigned to getting a tampon from your backpack.

A sense of panic filled your chest, however, when you realized the little bag you kept with extra supplies was nowhere to be found. That’s when you remembered that you had taken it out to replenish and apparently never put it back.

“Oh no. Oh no no no!”

There wasn’t even a single liner at the bottom of the bag.

“What’s got you in a tiff, princess? Don’t we have everything we need already?”

You sighed. You weren’t one to announce when you were on your period, since guys liked to believe that all women become bitches when they bleed. But you were desperate.

“Look, I know you’re gonna make fun of me, but I just started my period and don’t have anything to deal with it and I don’t know what to do.”

“Can’t you just hold it?”

“Ha ha good one. Seriously though I don’t know what I’m gonna do. If I don’t figure out something fast, I’ll bleed through my pants.”

Tom looked at you confused.

“Wait a second,” you started. “You weren’t serious right then, right? Like you do know it’s something women can’t control?”

“WHAT?” he exclaimed. “You can’t?”

“You know, for someone who calls himself so smart you sure are a dumbass. How do you know nothing about periods? You play football, haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”

He got quiet.

“No. I’m too busy competing with you that when I do get free time, everyone gets really intimidated by you.”

“Oh... “ you didn’t know what to say, but then a cramp hit you like a ton of bricks and you doubled over. “Ugh. could you just go get your mom? I need to go back to the bathroom and try not to throw up.”

Eventually, Nikki came and left some midol, tampons, and a heating pad for you and you were able to go back to Tom’s room, finding him leaning against his bed. He sat up straight when you walked in.

“Are- are you okay? You seemed to be in a lot of pain earlier.”

You plugged in the heating pad and turned it on, laying down on your back so you could drape it across your stomach. The midol hadn’t yet kicked in.

“Yeah, I’m good. It was early this month and I just wasn’t prepared,” you said staring at the ceiling, but turned your head to look at him. 

“Sorry if what I said was insensitive. I just figured you knew more about it than the average guy and I was so panicked that I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ve never had a boyfriend either. Same situation.”

“Hah, nerd.” 

You rolled your eyes and threw a nearby pillow at him. 

“Like you have room to talk. Now let’s just finish this so I can go home and take a nap.”

%

When you got to home ec Monday, you hadn’t spoken to Tom since leaving his house Saturday. Frankly, you were embarrassed about the situation still and figured he felt awkward too. 

Then, of course, you learned that Mrs. Flynn had decided to throw the class a curveball to tie the marriage project into regular class assignments.

For a unit on sewing, she was making each couple work together to make a small “marriage quilt” approximately the size of a baby blanket. Partners would have to work together to choose the colors, make a design, and sew it together within 2 weeks in class.

So there you were, sitting in the back corner of the room discussing design options and drawing up a pattern with Tom.

Upon realizing you both loved blue, you decided to make a blue based quilt. There would be little teal and pink accents as well in a couple of the fabrics you chose.

You sat in silence as you both cut small squares of fabric and batting. Other groups were talking, but things still felt heavy.

“Hey, uh. About Saturday…” Tom began quietly from the right of you.

“Please don’t bring it up. Everything turned out fine so let’s just keep it that way. I don’t need you to embarrass me more.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… what you said got me thinking. I know about all kinds of stuff and I’d like to go into medicine one day, but I know nothing about women’s health. So, I spent a good portion of yesterday researching and honestly, I had no idea how much you all go through. We may hate each other, but I respect you a lot more than before.”

“Oh. Wow. You know, I’m sure you read about it yesterday, but it’s super different for everyone. I wouldn’t even consider mine nearly as bad to some peoples’. But that’s really nice of you. And just because we hate each other doesn’t mean I won’t offer to let you ask me questions whenever. Education is way more important than any rivalry.” 

He smiled slightly and looked down at his desk, then back up, putting out his left fist. 

“Is a fist bump a good enough agreement to let each other ask any kinds of questions like that, no malice intended?” he asked.

You smiled back and hit your right fist to his left one. Eventually you went back to your normal arguing, but you couldn’t stop replaying the scene in your head.

%

A/N: thanks for reading guys! I’m so so busy with school right now that it’s going to be hard to release chapters weekly but I am trying to keep a somewhat regular upload schedule! I’ve written about 16 chapters so I have a lot of content to share already and there’s still more before I finish. As always, I can’t reply to post replies but my messages and asks are always open! 

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06

[nahimjustaworm]

These Hands Can’t Hold His Heart

BakuDeku Fanfic

By WorminaWall on AO3

30k

9 Chapters - Completed

Angst | Pining | Time Skips | Eventual Happy Ending

Rated M

Chapter One

Bakugou is no stranger to pain.

Given his Quirk, pain is a part of his DNA. His climb to the top of his third year class has come with plenty of scrapes and bruises and he’s familiar with hurting other people. Pain, in varying degrees, from varying people, has been part of his life since he was a child. He likes to think that he’s pretty good at tolerating it. He’s not some fucking crybaby who can’t take a punch. He can handle it, and he can hide it. He’s gotten good at hiding it- years of practice helps with that- so much so that he sometimes forgets he feels pain at all.

Sometimes, though, that pain bubbles up in unexpected moments and knocks him off guard. It’s not like any pain he’s ever experienced before, but he’s familiar with it. It doesn’t come in the form of a punch, or a blast, or anything of the sort. Its weapon is shy laughs, determined eyes, freckled cheeks and crooked fingers. A sideways glance. A voice saying a name he has no right being called anymore. The pain of this doesn’t cut him like a knife, it’s not sharp and quick, it emerges from inside his chest, an innate part of him, squeezing his insides until he feels like he can’t breathe. Sometimes it only lasts for a moment, once the glance has been broken, or the freckles turn away. Sometimes it lasts into the night, where he’s laying on his bed, curled up on his side, clutching around his body like he wants to crush that dull ache out of him or help it finish him off.

Bakugou is no stranger to pain.

He doesn’t know if it’s easier now- nearly three years of living in close proximity, two years of them sorting their shit out, one year of a mutual pact to try being “friends” again. The verdict is out on whether or not he prefers this to their constant fights and outward intolerance of each other. It’s taken them what seems like a lifetime to go back to being able to stand next to each other without starting an argument.

There are times where he thinks he preferred the way it was. The times when Deku smiles after Katsuki says something funny, or when he’s the first person the other tells when he’s figured out a new move, or when his shoulder brushes up against his own when they’re sitting on the couch.

There are also times where he’s convinced that what they are now is better. The times when Deku’s smile makes his eyes crinkle after he says something funny, or how excited he gets when he tells him he’s figured out a new move, or when his shoulder brushes up against his own when they’re sitting on the couch.

Hate is an easier emotion to fake than love is to feel.

-----

Everything is going fine until it’s not. Katsuki’s been hiding the pain that has buried its roots inside him for years, but he’s forgotten that pain like this is a disease and other people carry it too. Hell, he’s the one that sowed it.

Moments of weakness unearth buried memories- trauma reveals trauma. They’re only a few months into being Pro-Heroes, and after everything that’s happened to them, they forget that this world is still new to them. They forget until one day Deku’s staring frozen at the spot where a living, breathing human just was two seconds ago and now they’re not. Katsuki’s not there to see it happen- he works in a different district- but he hears the news report about civilian casualties where Deku is and knows that the other is not okay.

Deku comes stumbling into his apartment later that night, uniform still on, gore and dust still covering him.

“What the hell, Deku?” He says, the usual heat not there in his voice. He stands up, ready to force the other to go home and take a damn shower, when the look in those green eyes locks him in place. They’re unfocused, unseeing, haunted. He’s never seen them look like that before.

“You should have let me do it,” he mumbles, voice hoarse. Katsuki winces slightly at the sound of it.

“Do what, what are you talking-”

“The roof. You should’ve let me jump.” Katsuki’s blood runs cold. He’s buried that memory so far inside him that the feeling of it resurfacing is enough to knock the wind out of him. Words he never meant to say ringing inside his head again.

“Why’re you bringing that up now?” He asks, voice weaker than he’s heard it in a long time. They’ve put a lot of things behind them, an unspoken agreement when they decided they’d try being friends again. Ever since that day, they hadn’t talked about it.

“How can I call myself a hero if I let that happen to that woman. How can I ever be worthy of All Might’s power when I can’t even save someone right in front of me?!” He’s looking up at him now, frantic, like a wounded animal. He’s clutching his chest so tightly that Bakugou can practically feel the bite of Deku’s nails on his own skin. “You shouldn’t have ever saved me- I’m not the hero that All Might thought I was! You were right, why did you have to-”

Izuku’s cut short when Katsuki yanks him into a crushing hug. 

“Don’t fucking say that.” He hears Izuku inhale a shaking breath to protest, but continues. “You’re only human, not even All Might could save everyone every single time.”

“One for All was wasted on me.” He grips onto the back of Katsuki’s shirt as his tears flow freely. “I’m worthless.”

His voice is so small, like they’re back in middle school again. He hates it, it’s like a slap to the face, a testament to the person he was, the person that planted the seed of doubt inside his childhood friend’s head and tended to it so carefully and meticulously until it blossomed into something ugly.

“This isn’t your fault. It happens to every Pro.”

“I’m not just any person, Kacchan! I’m his successor, I’m supposed to save everyone, how can anyone believe in me if I’ve fucked up this fast!” He’s practically screaming, but it’s muffled by Katsuki’s shirt.

“There wasn’t anything you could do- no, shut up. I know people say that when they’re tryin’ to bullshit you, but I'm not a fucking liar. I saw the footage, you were hit with a binding Quirk. You were lucky you weren’t hit by debris too.” Izuku flinches at that, no doubt replaying the scene in his head. Katsuki tightens his grip, not realizing what he's doing. “Go take a fucking shower.”

He releases his hold, but keeps one hand on his shoulder. For an instant he’s being taken back to a familiar position in an empty classroom.

“All Might's never had any regrets choosing you. And you need to stop thinkin’ you’ve got to do this all on your own.” He removes his hand and straightens up. “Go take a shower. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

“Y-you don’t mind…?” You don’t mind me being here right now? You don’t mind me being in your space unannounced, despite how many times you’ve pushed me away, despite how many times I’ve had doors slammed in my face? All this goes unsaid, but he knows the other is thinking it. Nothing is going to make him stop thinking that things haven’t completely changed- no matter how many times they do this.

“You think I’m going to send you out looking like that, nerd? The press would go ape shit.”

Izuku smiles meekly. “Thanks, Kacchan.”

After he’s clean they lie on the bed next to each other, staring blankly at the ceiling, and Katsuki feels that crushing weight on his chest again. He’s good at hiding it, but that doesn’t mean it ever goes away.

“Kacchan, why did you do it?” He knows what he’s inferring, he had hoped the other would let it go. It’s just a reminder that there’s this void between them still, this gaping hole where the past should be but he ripped it to shred years ago when he had said those unforgivable words and now the hole is bleeding out again or maybe it never cauterized in the first place-

“You know why,” is his response. The weight of those words is crushing- the implications damning, and he knows that deep down Izuku knows what the connotation is.

The shorter boy- man? Are they men now?- hums his reply. They lie there, their hands mere inches away from each other. They used to hold hands. When did they stop? Who initiated their last gentle contact? He knows the answer to that.

“Why do you keep coming back to me?” He whispers finally, almost hoping the other is already asleep. This question doesn’t mean the same thing it did their first year at U.A. 

“You know why.”

Silence envelops them like an old friend.

----

The first year goes by and before he knows it he’s sitting on Shitty Hair’s couch with a cup of something in his hand, half listening to Sero go on about a villain fight he had earlier that week. Most of former class 3-A is here- Katsuki isn’t really keeping track- only knowing that a particular green haired nerd doesn’t seem to have arrived yet. He’s got his elbow on the arm of the chair, chin casually propped up in his hand, eyes slowly surveying the little party Mina’s gathered together. He doesn't know how exactly he ended up here- there was a bribe involved he thinks- but the alcohol is making his head fuzzy and he’s just grateful tomorrow is his day off.

“You know, you’ve sure mellowed out since we met.” Kirishima plops down next to him, drink sloshing around in his cup.

“The fuck are you sayin'?” He grumbles into his palm. Shitty Hair just laughs.

“See, if I would have said anything like that two years ago I would’ve gotten blasted in the face.”

“Too many witnesses,” he replies. They both know it’s a lame excuse- Katsuki’s never given a shit what other people think of him. Well, most other people.

“Yeah okay.” He grins at him. “I’m just saying, before you would have never agreed to come to a party with all of these ‘extras’. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“‘M gettin’ more booze,” is his reply, and he slightly stumbles his way into the kitchen where a makeshift bar has been set up. He’s just finished making his “cocktail”, if it could be called that, when he hears him.

“Sorry I’m late guys.” Katsuki’s not looking over at him yet, but he just knows he’s bashfully rubbing the back of his head. “I just got off my shift.”

He hears Round Face bumble on about something to him, and suddenly he feels nauseated. He wants to back out, change his mind about coming, make up some excuse about needing to leave, fake a villain attack, do something that removes him from this room that’s suddenly shrunk in size. He’s no coward, but the alcohol is muddying up his brain, settling uncomfortably in his stomach, and he doesn’t trust himself to act in his best interest.

He’s considering just escaping out the hallway window when he hears, “Kacchan!” spoken from across the room.

“Excuse me,” he politely says to his friend, his eyes crinkling in the way that makes Katsuki want to punch something. He approaches the other with a smile so genuine Katsuki is sure something's going to get punched now. “I didn’t think you were going to show up!”

He’s not sure how to reply. He calculates the answers in his head, formulating his options, knowing that the easiest is anger or irritation, but the default isn’t what he should choose. He wants to be defensive- he sure doesn’t want to admit the real reason he showed up to be surrounded by a bunch of people he doesn’t give a fuck about.

“N-not that I’m not happy you’re here! I’m glad you showed up! I’m just surprised because Kacchan usually avoids large groups of people, and he hasn’t been in contact with many of us since graduation. It’s interesting that he decided to come today, though maybe because it’s a special occasion and he wants to-”

“Oi, you’re mumbling.”

“Sorry.” He smiles shyly and scratches his cheek. “It’s… it’s nice to see you.”

Pain.

Chest tightening, breath faltering, palms sweating, throat closing- pain, why is there nothing but pain when I see you I can’t stand this pain anymore just stay the fuck away from me so I don’t feel this way I can’t do it-

He downs the rest of his drink. “Yeah, whatever.”

He doesn’t know why he stays. He should have left the moment he had the chance- he shouldn’t’ve come in the first place. He’s screaming at himself inside his head, but his body is moving on its own- he’s pouring more drinks, he’s sitting on the couch, he’s leaning in to conversations he has no right stealing, he’s laughing, he’s stumbling outside with him, he’s walking down the sidewalk, grabbing a scarred arm, pushing his body against the door, fumbling keys, stripping clothes, grabbing at hair, and why the fuck are you doing this you need to stop this why aren’t you listening you fucking idiot how could you do this?!

When he wakes in the morning he instantly runs to the bathroom to retch. Despite purging his insides, he still feels rotted out. He’s pathetic and disgusting and unworthy and selfish and he wants nothing more than to lay on the forest floor and let the moss feast on his rot.

Deku is already gone.

Read the completed fic here >

[midnightmoonkiss]

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Masturbation Hc’s

Characters:  Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shōto

WARNINGS!: NSFW 

Heh.. i lied.. when i said i’d never do nsfw...

I’m a fool. A fool, I say.

College au even tho its never really mentioned ! Tho tbh i honestly think ua shoulda been a college either way smh

Also I got too carried away with Izuku’s, so Shōtos is shorter-

Midoriya Izuku

First of all, he’s a big boi

Quite possibly owns one of the biggest dicks in class

6.5in when flaccid, but roughly 7.8in when fully erect - impressive!

Not only is he huge, but he’s honestly so adorable. Curves upwards towards the left a bit and gets super flushed!

He oozes quite a bit of precum, but it honestly works out in his favor since it helps him slick his hand up and down the shaft - not a good solution but still better than spit if he’s in a pinch!

Circumcised!

Midoriya doesn’t typically masturbate as much as one would expect from someone his age, maybe two or three times a month, depending on how stressed out he is. Either way, he’d much rather take a bubble bath than jerk his meat. Though, some nights he wakes up from an intense.. dream.. legs and boxers covered in goop.

Its really embarrassing to him, though it does theoretically help his confidence in himself a bit - especially with the thought of what he could do to you and how easily he thinks he could make you cum, which he probably could. This man does his research!

Porn. A shit ton of porn. Someone clear his browser history ffs.

Most of the time its the little things that get him too worked up, perhaps your hand simply rested on his upper thigh, but the gesture already is too much for his overactive mind to handle

Hes a horny little shit who’s not used to being touched

Most of the time he’s got enough control to make it through classes without having to take drastic actions,

but sometimes a mans gotta lose his dignity in a bathroom stall, one hand slapped over his mouth to muffle his high pitched whines and moans, other hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as his hips thrust and hand moves up and down as he desperately searches for a quick release (see! This is where that ‘pinch’ before mentioned comes in!) so his bathroom break doesnt seem suspiciously long

How lewd and mortifying, but is it bad he likes the idea of potentially being caught? Not by himself, if course, but with you riding him on the seat. The wet slaps would echo throughout the restroom, notifying all who enter just what’s happening and that someone is getting what they so desperately wish they could.. well, what he also wishes he could get

He’s a bit.. possessive, even though you aren’t quite his yet

Though, if he can make it back to the dorms, he often times even forgets about the encounter and just goes on doing his homework or workout session.

Late at night when hes going to sleep is when he suddenly remembers the way you ‘caressed’ his upper thigh, nails dragging against the tensed muscles slightly as shock waves coursed down his spine at your teasing whispers in his sensitive ear

You wanted this to happen, didnt you? Naughty naughty.

His breath quickens, face flushed a deep red, already feeling himself grow half erect and straining against his sweatpants.

He felt like such a perv as he tugged only the grey fabric down, hand coming to lightly massage himself through his boxers, drawing a stuttered gasp at the contact

Glazed over eyes would slip shut, hips grinding against his hand

If he’s not too worked up, he’ll just use his hand to finish himself off, nice and slow. He always starts at the base, slick fingers gliding along throbbing veins as his dick becomes fully erect. This is prime time for experimentation with himself, but most of the time he just falls back into what usually gets him going. Man just wants to cum.

Sometimes he teases himself by gliding his thumb up and under the shaft, making his way to his reddened head, thumb grazing over his oozing, sensitive slit. Feels so nice, but if he does it too many times, game over. This never fails to draw a whimper from him, though

He’s really noisy? He doesnt even have to touch his dick to hum in pleasure, just his nips and / or inner thighs. You’d think he’d have extremely sensitive nips but theyre pretty tame compared to others

If he is worked up, lord help his pillow because he is going to be humping the ever-loving shit out of it, towel nearby to cum into as he prays he doesnt ruin the thing he reluctantly sleeps on.

But God are his eyes glued to you, face burning the next day as you hug that pillow during a friendly study session..

At this point, that pillow has a weird shape. All the stuffing has bunched up mainly towards the middle, which is honestly a plus for him because the extra hard cushioning around his throbbing cock makes it all the more real. Naturally, he’s dreaming of fucking you into his mattress. Oh, to claim you, making you beg to go faster- to rub his head against your private parts..

He’s discovered he can use his quirk to his benefit during this time, snapping his hips faster, green sparks illuminating his body as he gets closer and closer. How addicting it is.

His balls arent something he usually pays attention to tbh, but from time to time he occasionally massages them in his hand

Often times he cannot control himself from bucking the closer he gets, moans spilling out those sinful lips like a bitch in heat

Drool dribbles down his chin 9 out of 10 times, cheeks blazing, pupils blown wide hiding that beautiful emerald color, the most sinful sight to behold and he’d be so embarrassed if someone saw him in such a vulnerable state.

Did I mention he also likes to kiss his palm as he pleasures himself (without his pillow), pretending that he’s kissing your delicious lips and not some sweaty palm as you bounce up and down on his length, juices mixing together on his shaft

If he’s humping his pillow, he’s going to be biting it in an attempt to keep his volume down - pretty futile. Who said a dom can’t be noisy?

When all is said and done, and he’s cumming, all hell breaks lose in his body and he no longer cares how loud he is (Mineta has complained multiple times, much to Izukus horror) He always finds himself screeching something that sounds oddly like your name..

“..aH! Hah! (Y/)-AHHnnnGnn..!”

His cum is on the thicker side, and there’s usually always a large amount of it from slight build up. He tries to make as little a mess as possible, considering he gets extremely sleepy after a session, so he wants to go to bed right after and not worry about a mess.

Experimented with fingering his ass once or twice, covered in this lube he got, but both times it wasnt exactly pleasurable, even if he properly stretched himself. He can’t figure out why, especially since he wants to rub up against that special spot. Has thought about buying a dildo at some point. Maybe a fleshlight too..

Midoriya Masturbating = Sinful and Loud

Todoroki Shōto:

Not as long as Izuku, but definitely more girthy!

Roughly 5.8in long when flaccid and 6.2in when fully erect!

He is also circumcised, mainly because it was some wacky tradition in his family and not mainly considered for health reasons.

He doesnt leak a lot of precum, which works for him considering he thinks its a bit messy

He’s one of those dudes that masturbate cuz they know they have to to stay healthy, masturbating twice a week. He has a schedule.. kinda strange..

“Hey Todoroki! Want to go to a karaoke bar with us?” “Can’t. I have.. plans.”

For the most part, he’s not nearly as sensitive as Izuku. That, and he’s not that loud

Mostly just grunts and groans, maybe an occasional “hah..”

He tends not to stray from his schedule, unless he’s extremely frustrated of course. Those days when his dad is being a real stick in the mud are the days hes jerkin it like his life depends on it

When that special time does come, though..

Hes laying on his back on his futon, completely naked and legs spread for the most access

His nimble fingers glide down his body, a way for him to mentally prepare for the pleasure he so desperately craves because he too is a horny fuck

He likes to watch his ministrations though, analyzing how much pleasure he can get from doing certain things so he can do it again next time

An example would be twisting his hand up and down the shaft

He also like to use toys on himself?

Dads credit card comes in handy.

He’s got it all, lubes, dildos, nipple claps and vibrators, etc

It takes a while to work himself up to an orgasm, it can be kind of annoying if he really wants that high as soon as possible

Typically he doesnt thrust into his hands- unless his favorite vibrator is up his ass, pressed snug against his prostate

He gets real crazy when that happens, legs shaking slightly as he bites on his lips

He loves watching his body react to different things, its mesmerizing how good he can feel from something he’s doing

One time pressed a bullet vibrator against his head and right nipple at the same time and came immediately - it was truly a big shock to him , blacked out for a second and woke up covered in his own seed

Speaking of, his nipples are one of his most strongest sensitive points, so he tends to avoid them until hes getting closer to his release.

They may or may not leak a bit if man milk from time to time if he messes with them too much

Bought this sizzling lube and uses a bit of that when rubbing at his nipples, he doesnt like that funky dry feeling even though the burn from it feels just as good

So basically, his dick his hard , hips helplessly thrusting in the air, vibrating dildo pressed up inside him and fingers working his nip as he finally cums - letting out a silent scream with flushed cheeks. So cute.

Though, he is a pervert.

When doing all this shit, he imagines its you, sweet little innocent (Y/N) doing all these things to him

He’s such a brat, honestly

Whenever he finds new techniques on the internet, he stores them away for later use

That, and when he sees your legs in some particularly tight thigh high socks so he can look back on it and pretend he’s thrusting into those delicious thighs

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Such a slut for him~

Todoroki Masturbating = Kinky and Quiet