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ackerfics · 3 years

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the parent trap — levi ackerman (i)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: none, just two adorable little boys being idiots

— summary: two boys discovered that they are connected in more ways than they expected.

— word count: 6k (oops i regret nothing)

— author’s notes: i watched the parent trap recently and i had to do this. everything in this multi-part fic will be based on the parent trap and most of the dialogue can be found in the movie. this chapter doesn’t contain that much levi and the reader (they’re mentioned tho) but it contains bickering between two kids. happy reading !!

part two

Bright gray eyes stared out the window, onyx hair being ruffled by the wind, as the bus’ engine finally stopped at its destination with dozens of boys excitedly finding friends under the cooling canopy of trees of Camp Eldia for Boys. It was a good kind of chaotic, a boy of eleven thought even though he wasn’t used to so many people in one place at the same time (his dad hated it), as he kept his eyes peeled for an orange duffel bag. It was a bright shade and he couldn’t afford to lose it in this horde — he didn’t want to damage it, knowing that his dad specifically bought it for this summer getaway. A shoulder bumped into him, causing the young boy to lose his footing, but not before directing an icy glare at the person, who scurried away after getting a glimpse of his face. Huffing under his breath, he steadied himself while patting his shorts and denim jacket, catching a familiar orange in the pile of duffel bags as he rose his head.

“There you are,” he whispered under his breath with a smile pulling on his lips, his feet carrying him to the pile. The moment he caught hold of the straps of the bag, a scowl replaced his smile, exclaiming, “For fuck’s sake!” as the camp’s staff dumped a lot of bags on top of his. Noticing the incredulous stare given to him by the green-eyed adult, the boy directed his irritated glare from the pile to him. “Do you need something? Or are you going to dump more bags in this pile?”

The green-eyed man rose his hands as if surrendering. “Chill, little dude, you can always get it out.”

The boy rolled his eyes.

“Okay, rude,” the staff murmured, walking away from the struggling kid. “Kids these days, having undercuts and piercings at a young age.”

The black-haired boy continued pulling on his duffel, occasionally cursing in various volumes. He didn’t realize someone timidly coming up beside him, looking between him and the orange bag. Right when he was about to call for help from the adults, the silver-eyed boy turned around, only to jump with his back on the bags at the sight of a boy his age looking at him curiously. Damn it, his lessons in social interaction with his nanny weren’t getting to him at the moment. “Hi,” he muttered, wary of the boy still staring at him with a tilted head. “Can I help you?”

“I think you’re the one who will be needing help,” the boy replied, nodding at the bags. “You know, with that.” A stretch of silence rang through while two pairs of eyes continued staring at each other, one narrowed while the other kind, the owner of the latter now walking to the pile of bags. “Here, let me help.” The boy effortlessly pulled on the strap of the orange duffel, the bag now free from the confines of the pile. The silver-eyed boy looked at the other person with wide eyes. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the same age as him, maybe he was a little older. The boy was taller than him by inches and it made him feel small. “First time in camp? I can tell since you weren’t fast enough in getting your bag from the staff.” The boy nodded at the adults flitting through the throng of pubescent boys. “My name’s Michael. What’s yours?”

As the black-haired boy opened his mouth to give it to his newly found friend (surprise for his dad because he made a friend hours after telling him he will have trouble getting one with his snappy attitude), the brown-haired, green-eyed man from earlier shouted, “Altair Ackerman!”

He rose his hand, “Right here!”

“You’re in the Ehrmich cabin!”

Altair nodded, turning back to Michael, who was grinning. “We’re in the same cabin.”

“Awesome.”

It wasn’t meant to be sarcastic but given the fact that he grew up with an always annoyed man as his father (though his dad was never seen with a scowl when he was around), Altair picked up some of the older man’s habits. The silver-eyed boy took in a deep breath and roamed his eyes around the camp, the countryside of his hometown reminiscent inside his mind, clogging his chest with nostalgia out of nowhere. He was starting to miss the hectares of small tea trees surrounding their estate that seemed to clear the air whenever he took his morning walks, even their quaint little tea shop boring their last name in the middle of their town (well, it was quaint but their numbers are increasing around their state, which is insane). After eight weeks of being with people he barely even knew, Altair was in for a wild ride. He would much rather race through their estate on his horse, Nox, than participate in friendship rituals or whatever camps do during the summer (don’t forget the camp sing-alongs that his father warned him about, giving him second thoughts at the last minute).

Every hour of his flight to Maine was spent thinking about why his father decided to ship him off to the other end of the country. For what? Altair will never know.

A honk interrupted Altair from his thoughts, eyeing the sleek black car entering the camp’s premises with furrowed brows. He can hear Michael express his awe beside him. Who in their right mind would choose to ride a borderline limousine inside a summer camp?

“Dang, the person in that must have a lot of money,” Michael stated.

Altair only narrowed his eyes in slight scrutiny. His small family also has a lot of money but he never once suggested to his dad that he will be arriving in camp with his horse. Plus, poor Nox wouldn’t want to be cooped up inside a ship just for that. “Maybe,” he muttered in reply to his friend. “Hey, do you play poker? My dad gave me cards for this trip.”

“I don’t know how to play poker but you can always show me the ropes.”

“Great.”

As the two boys went inside their cabin and greeting some of their roommates, the black car opened, along with a lean man surveying the camp with a watchful eye. Most of the children had their eyes curiously stuck on the vehicle and the man with light brown hair had to hold in his smug smile at their dashing entrance. Ducking down to address the person inside the car, he opted for smiling encouragingly at the onyx-haired boy — he doesn’t want to bite down his tongue in front of young children because that would be embarrassing. Feet enclosed in dress shoes stepped outside of the black car, beholding the sight of an eleven-year-old boy clad in a gray suit jacket and matching short pants. His hair fell right past his ears and touching the nape of his neck in tidy wavy locks, his hand clutching his stationery box.

The man behind the boy smiled before saying, “Here we are — Camp Eldia for Boys.” The man followed the boy, who was walking towards the side of the car with wide, admiring eyes. “We traveled all the way from London for this.”

The boy of silver eyes chuckled, the sound twinkling in the air. “It’s rather picturesque,” he glanced at the man with a huge grin, “don’t you think?”

The light-brown-haired man swatted a mosquito hovering close to his face, turning to the child with a sigh. “Not exactly the term I would use in describing this,” he paused, looking around the vicinity with narrowed eyes, “place.” He didn’t want to be rude now that he saw how the young boy stared at the cabins with bright eyes. He took the box from the boy’s hand, the latter giggling at his friend’s unamused face, and took out a small notebook and a pen from the inner pockets of his suit. Opening it to a checklist, he started, “Now, let us review your mother’s list.” At the sound of the young boy humming lightheartedly, he continued with a small smile, “Vitamins?”

The boy grinned. “Check.”

“Minerals?”

“Check.”

“List of daily fruits and vegetables?”

“Check. Check.”

The man stopped, staring at the onyx-haired boy with a raised eyebrow.

The young kid laughed. “Check for the fruits and another check for the vegetables. Go on.”

With a satisfied smile, the man continued listing items from the list — sunblock, lip balm, insect repellant, and the stamps that the boy will be using for the weekly letters. Then, he also gave reminders for the photographs if ever the kid misses his family members. All of this was answered with a huge smile, claiming the young boy had all of those in check, adding a, “You don’t need to worry. I got everything handled and packed safely in my luggage.”

“Oh, and before I forget, here’s a little something from Hange.” The older man presented something from his suit with a smirk. “Spanking new deck of cards. Maybe you’ll actually find someone on this continent who can whip your tush at poker.”

“I doubt it,” came the reply. The black-haired boy swayed on the balls of his feet, an endearing smile plastered on his face. “Thanks for bringing me here, Oluo.”

Oluo Bozado, the butler of the esteemed [Last Name] family was a dear person to the little boy and the extended members of the household, seeing as he witnessed how the mistress of the household took care of the young boy all by herself until he was a bright child ready for all sorts of adventures. Looking at the child of bright stormy eyes and hair as dark as midnight, the brown-haired man felt his lips tremble with the thought that his young master was starting to experience what it was like away from family. It was only a week before that the boy’s mother decided to present more opportunities for her son while she was away for a business trip in Greece.

It was a great decision to bring along the child but it was more suited for him to mingle with people his age, knowing that he was homeschooled all his life. Now, Oluo was trying hard not to bawl his eyes out in the middle of this blasted summer camp so instead, he spread his arms for the little boy to give him a goodbye. Sniffing occasionally, Oluo muttered with conviction, “Now, you remember, if you ever change your mind and want me to come here and collect you at the end of the camp — we’re all only one phone call away.”

Chuckling at the antics of the butler, the dark-haired boy pulled away and patted the man’s back. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. You, Hange, and Mum shouldn’t worry too much. Though, Hange wouldn’t worry that much since they’re responsible for this suggestion. Nevertheless, I’m a big boy now. See you in eight weeks, Oluo, old pal.”

Oluo huffed lightheartedly. “I’m not that old, you know. It’s just the face. Keep safe, Caelum.”

Caelum grinned knowingly. The two then started doing their signature pact of friendship, which the child orchestrated the moment he started to be aware of his surroundings. Their hands clapped against each other, bumping their hips along an imaginary beat, sliding past one another, and ending the small show with a firm handshake and a smile on their faces. Oluo smiled softly and affectionately ruffled Caelum’s hair, making the wavy curls more pronounced. “Have fun, little prince.”

“I will.”

One week in camp and everything was going the way Caelum expected it to be. He made friends with a few campers, who were all chattering about how cool he was while entering the camp a while back, saying that he looked like a noble. All of their remarks will always be brushed off by the dark-haired boy. There was partial truth in what they were saying, his mother’s family solely responsible for why he acted like the way he is — regal. For a shorter explanation, Caelum was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Plus, he was spoiled a lot by his Mum’s best friend, Hange, who lived with them for he could remember.

(“Do you want to know why I live here, little bean? Except for being a freeloader—ow, I’m just having a laugh, [Name]! If you’ll excuse that interruption, I live here because this has been my home. Your Mum’s family accepted me after I came out to my parents. Aaaand, I get to see your cute face every day!”)

There were so many things that he loved while being on this little escape. One, this place was full of sunshine and laughter compared to his home back in London, not that he hated the gloomy thunderstorms and the sounds of the city back home, but it was nice to finally relax under the blinding rays of the sun. Two, the games were glorious, having to play alongside children around his age. It was exhilarating in the smallest of ways and it warmed Caelum’s heart. After getting their lunch inside the cafeteria (which consisted of a strange encounter from one of the camp directors, Nile Dok, saying that he saw someone who looked a lot like Caelum seconds before acknowledging him), the little boy roamed around the camp beside his friends. Ahead of them was a small gathering of campers and a staff, Eren Jaeger, Caelum learned. The adult was saying along the lines of challenging the reigning champion of fencing.

Caelum had to hold back his scoff.

He had a fencing teacher once and he was told that he could best anyone even if he would do it halfheartedly. Maybe it was the nostalgia bringing in the drive to be the said challenger but the silver-eyed boy found himself saying, “Can I challenge him?”

Eren didn’t look up from his clipboard as he answered, “Finally, someone stepped up. Okay, you can suit up there, buddy. Your fellow campers will help you get ready.”

“Got it.”

Once he was fitted with the white fencing suit, Caelum wiggled his arms as he released a deep breath. It’s been a while since he prepared for another spar, almost a year now, and he could only hope that he wasn’t rusty. Running his hand through his thick hair, Caelum placed the helmet snug around his head. Without waiting for their referee (who looked like they wanted to be at another place at the moment), the onyx-haired boy faced his opponent. He sized up the boy in front of him with blank eyes. It looked like they were of a similar build, with the boy bouncing at his feet every few seconds, which irked Caelum in the slightest. Maybe this would be the moment to be serious in something he thought he used only to pass the time. Lowering his stance with bended knees, Caelum neutrally positioned himself so that his opponent wouldn’t know if he was in the offense or defense.

“Fencers ready?” Eren asked the two of them, eyes flitting between the two boys.

The boy in front of Caelum said, “Ready,” in the exact voice as him that it unnerved the black-haired boy.

Shaking his head, Caelum flipped his saber expertly in the air. “All set.”

“Tch, show-off.”

The silver-eyed boy felt his insides churn with annoyance.

“En garde, fence!”

Caelum immediately forwarded a couple of steps, taunting his opponent with light jabs as the other person defended his torso against Caelum’s attacks. Once he had the boy in the green fencing suit backed against the trees with nowhere to turn, the last thing Caelum expected was to have his adversary dashing for one of the trunks, gaining momentum for a second and jumping on the surface of the tree in a graceful turn, the other boy’s saber slashing the direction of the silver-eyed boy’s stomach. Caelum backed away with a jump at the last second, successfully dodging the boy’s attack, to which he failed to notice the glint of metal shooting towards his head. With his instincts, Caelum ducked down and made a counter-attack, zoning his attention on the opening on his opponent’s knees brandishing for his attention. Annoyance once again prickled Caelum’s being, bubbling in his stomach and reaching towards his head in migraine, as the other boy parried his consecutive offensive maneuvers until they circled the entire area for the camp’s games.

The onlookers could see how the two mirrored each other. When Caelum went for the overhead jab, the other boy would strike his rival’s lower body. It was a dance of parries and counter-attacks that some of them were starting to feel dizzy from all the constant back-and-forths between the two children. Even Eren, who was starting to think that accepting this job for the summer was a total waste, perked up while the two boys continued meeting their weapons in parries as their little feet brought them to where the pavilion was situated. The green-eyed man even called for one of his friends, Reiner Braun, to watch the exciting fencing tournament. With bated breath, every pair of eyes watched as the boy in green had his saber thrown away by a flick of Caelum’s sword, leaving the former with nowhere to go and no weapon to deflect the point of the saber’s tip on his chest.

Right when the audience thought the two were done (Eren was about to announce the winner), the boy in green lost his balance from Caelum’s push, his body going over the railings of the pavilion and into the small washing area by the side of the establishment.

“What the fuck?!”

Caelum swore he heard the entire audience gasp.

The only question in his mind was ‘what was the reason?’ Was it the curse words or the fact that he just pushed his opponent in a tub of water that could’ve seen better days?

Pursing his lips, the silver-eyed boy leaned over the railings and reached out a hand. “Sorry about that, let me help you.”

“No, let me help you.”

Water entered Caelum’s helmet as he toppled over from the force of the other boy’s pull. He slowly looked over at the other person occupying the tub of water after sitting up. He could feel his eye twitch from behind the soaked helmet. There was a distinct chatter in the background, asking both boys if they were alright. Eren might have called over his friends and now they were fussing over the two with concerned and amusing questions. And yet, Caelum never strayed his glare from the person in front of him.

“What did you do that for?” Caelum seethed.

“Me?!” The boy all but screamed at his face, his hands gesturing between them. “You pushed me in, you idiot!”

“I did not!”

“I’m sorry I ruffled your feathers, gentleman,” the boy spat.

“Okay!” Eren interjected, coming forward and crouching to meet the boys’ eyes. His earlier expression of boredom was now switched into something bright as he looked back and forth the two boys. “That was awesome, little dudes! Are you sure you two didn’t enter any kind of fencing competition?” When he saw that the two had opposing answers, he grinned. “Campers,” he called out to the children surrounding him, “I think we have ourselves a new camp champion, from London, England — Caelum [Last Name]!” Eren stood up to his full height, watching as the two boys took off their helmets, backs facing one another. The said champion shaking his head and splashing water droplets like a dog while the other boy raked his hand over his short hair, slicking back his haircut. The green-eyed man noticed something from the two but he extinguished his curiosity with a, “Alright, dudes, shake hands. We love and promote sportsmanship in this household.” Preventing a chuckle from coming out since the boys didn’t budge from their positions, Eren once again tried, “Come on, little dudes.”

Altair has never been surprised even once in his life but the moment right now shook his entire world.

It was like viewing himself in the mirror.

Even though the boy in front of him had longer hair, there was no mistaking how his heart was pounding inside his chest, breath taken away at the uncanny resemblance between him and this boy from England (posh accent and all). He vividly read somewhere that seven people around the world looked exactly like a single individual, remembering how he thought that was cool enough for his seven-year-old brain. Maybe this was it. But he knew better because the more he stared shell-shocked at the boy with waves for hair, the more the feeling like he knew him bubbled inside his stomach. The boy seemed to think similar thoughts as him at the moment, stretching his hand for a tentative handshake that was long overdue (probably a couple of minutes, like Altair cared).

A zap.

A bolt of electricity.

It trickled in Altair’s whole arm until he pulled away from the boy’s grasp.

He was never big on physical contact, to begin with. Yeah, that’s the reason why he pulled away so quickly and not the possibility of sharing something common with the boy who looked like him. Brushing everything off just like his dad always did, Altair scoffed, purposely wiping his hand on his pants exaggeratedly as he stated, “Why is everybody staring at us?”

The boy stared at him like he grew a second head, which sparked irritation in his veins. “Don’t you see it?”

Altair lazily looked around. “See what?”

Furrowed eyebrows graced the pretty boy’s expression (by calling the boy pretty, he was practically calling himself pretty, and Altair had no complaints about that). “The resemblance between us, you tosser.”

“What?”

“I said—“

“I heard what you said.” Altair stepped forward a little to glare at the boy. “What did you call me?”

The boy rose his chin a little in the air. “A tosser.”

“I swear to God,” Altair murmured under his breath, a smile of disbelief painted his lips, “if you don’t stop calling me names in your slang, I’d really be a tosser because I will fucking toss you and your stuck-up ass in the lake right now.” He continued surveying the boy with eyes full of disdain. “And what resemblance? I don’t see a thing because you look nothing like me.” The other boy’s face contorted into that blank mien that he was sure only him and his dad could pull off. The bags under the boy’s eyes became prominent as he matched Altair’s stare. Huffing indignantly, Altair continued, “For your information, your eyes are much closer together than mine. Your ears … it makes you look like a rat. Your teeth are crooked. Oh, and that nose? Don’t worry, those things can be fixed.” Satisfaction made Altair’s chest puff in confidence at the offended look on the boy’s visage. “You want to know the real difference between us? It’s—“

“I know how to fence and you don’t?” The boy taunted. He placed a finger on his chin as if contemplating something. “Or I have class and you don’t? Just take your pick, good sir.”

“You little shit—“

“Try me, you fu—“

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Eren interrupted, placing a hand on both boys' shoulders. “Let’s break up this little lovefest of yours. Caelum, Altair.” Then, at the next second, the man became confused. “Altair, Caelum. Caelum? Altair? Oh, holy shit, this is giving me a whiplash.”

The following weeks were pure hell that Caelum was convinced this was his punishment for eating Hange’s stash of their favorite butter cookies. He could remember how they screamed bloody murder for whoever finished their special tin, with Caelum’s mother calming them down and saying they probably forgot eating them. Nobody knew who ate them, well, except for Oluo since the butler caught the young master in the act.

That Altair kid definitely knew how to handle a grudge, throwing pranks at Caelum left and right, causing the latter to retaliate in the most mature way possible — giving the boy who looked like him a taste of his own medicine. It all started when Caelum was defeated at poker the night after they had their fencing competition, defeated by Altair to be precise. That pompous idiot thought it was funny to taunt Caelum into diving into the lake naked and leaving him behind while Altair’s little posse took away his clothes. It was mortifying, walking back to his cabin stuttering because of the cold, no clothes to keep him warm. That spurred him to take revenge, asking for his cabinmates’ help in getting out the Ehrmich cabin’s beds for all the campers and camp directors to see. It only got worse after that. It was all fun and games until Altair got Nile Dok and his assistant, Floch Forster, in his ultimate prank to humiliate Caelum, turning the Mitras cabin into a mess of honey, whipped cream, water balloons, and feathers.

While Nile was screaming for Caelum and Altair to pack their bags, the former turned to look at his doppelganger with lifeless eyes. “You are without a doubt the lowest, most awful person on the planet.”

Altair couldn’t help but smirk devilishly. “Thank you, thank you very much.”

Nile decided that the fitting consequence was to put the two of them in the isolation cabin. Caelum doesn’t know if that will help with their situation. He was convinced they will kill each other if they’re cooped inside a smaller cabin.

The first night in the isolation cabin was turning out quite nicely for the longer-haired boy, taking out his journal to write the significant events that happened during the day. He was peacefully enjoying his solitude that he didn’t notice Altair huff every second while glaring at the overhead light bulb that served as their only light source. At the umpteenth wordless complain, Altair had enough of it, sitting up in his bed and turned the lights off. The whole cabin was bathed in darkness, making Caelum flinch since he was immersed in writing out his inner thoughts of decapitating the person sharing his space at the moment. With an incredulous stare directed at the boy across the room, Caelum turned on the lights, which resulted in a battle between the two boys and making it seem like the isolation cabin was infested with ghosts.

After an entire week in the isolation cabin, there was a thunderstorm warning around the camp. As some of the campers screamed while looking for shelter one afternoon, Altair was organizing the posters plastered on his side of the room. The other person occupying the cabin was trying to distract himself by playing solitaire. The short-haired boy wanted to make casual talk since the silence has been stifling for the past hours but his anxiety-ridden gut got the best of him so he chose to stay quiet while fiddling with the poster of his favorite show. A strong gust of wind then blew from the opened windows, making his posters fly around the room.

Caelum looked up from putting a card on one column and immediately stood up to help the boy struggling with closing the window. “Oh, no,” he murmured when he saw the mess. With occasional glances, he planted his hands on one side of the sliding window and pushed. He didn’t miss how Altair looked at him with a weird face. The longer-haired boy didn’t care as he pushed the window, stopping the howls of the wind. Feeling the stares drilled at the side of his head, Caelum met Altair’s stare with a small half-smile before nodding towards the posters scattered over the floor. “Need help with that?” A nod was all Caelum needed to pick up the posters with Altair, a comforting silence blanketing the two boys. In the midst of their tidying up, he noticed a stuffed toy lying on top of some newspaper clippings. Thinking that Altair will act rashly again, he hesitated, “Oh, here’s your…”

Altair turned to the other boy, breathing a laugh through his nose and taking the stuffed bunny from Caelum. “Snuffles. For having a tough-boy persona, I don’t look like the kind of person who owns a stuffed toy, right?”

“Not at all, I think it’s pretty normal.” Smiles were shared, with the longer-haired boy fidgeting with his fingers, needing to break the silent atmosphere. “No pictures were ruined, right?”

“You don’t have to worry,” Altair replied with a slight smile, eyes still on the posters. “You were fast enough in helping me with the window.”

“Home has pretty much had this weather most of the month. I guess I developed the reflexes there.”

Altair hummed, looking inquisitively at the wavy-haired boy. “How far is London anyway?”

“Well, from here it’s 3,000 miles, but sometimes it seems much further. How far away is your home?”

“California’s at the other end of the country.” Altair looked at the side and picked up a photo. “Here’s a picture of my house.”

Caelum peered down at the picture and immediately thought it looked, “Amazing.”

“I know, right?” Altair flashed a proud smile. “Dad built it when I was a baby, at least that’s what he said. We got this incredible porch that has a cool view of the tea tree plantation and then there’s this pool in our backyard. Petra, my nanny, will always scold me for staying too long in the water or for walking around the plantation until nighttime. I also have this beautiful horse that Dad gave me for my tenth birthday, she’s amazing, her name’s Nox, by the way.”

“Who’s that?” Caelum pointed at a black-haired man, who only had his back on the photo. The man was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and some jeans. Even though he never saw the man in person, there was something about that physique that screams familiarity, very much like how he first met Altair.

The other boy blinked before grinning. “That’s my Dad. He’s like my best friend since nobody wanted to befriend me for being snappy. We kind of did everything together. He didn’t know I was taking his picture or else he would turn around and tell me to take a picture of the house instead. He doesn’t like his picture taken, says he doesn’t like the sound of the cameras or how it exposes him.”

“Why?” Caelum asked curiously with a pinch in his chest. Must be complete to have someone you can call Dad.

Altair shrugged. “Beats me. Every time someone wants to take a picture of him and our teahouse, he would decline. But, the only pictures that he was in were the ones that have my mom in them. That disappeared when I found out about it though.” At the expression on Caelum’s face, the boy tried asking what was wrong, only to be told that the room was getting chilly. As Caelum stood up from the floor and went to his bed, Altair followed suit and opened the trunk at the end of his bed. Taking out something that always cheered him up, he lifted it so that the wavy-haired boy could see it. “Want some Oreos? I know you’ll find this weird but I eat them with peanut butter.” He then took out a jar of peanut butter from his things.

“That is weird.” Caelum saw how Altair’s face slightly dropped, so he continued, “That’s weird because I eat Oreos with peanut butter, too.”

Altair took a seat on Caelum’s bed, a few feet separating the two boys. “Finally someone who appreciates the combination. Dad always told me it’s disgusting even though I’ve seen him eat Oreos with peanut butter a couple of times for his midnight tea.” Opening the box of Oreos, Altair offered one to his newfound friend, to which Caelum took gratefully. “So what’s your dad like? Is he one of those workaholics who always go home late and leaves the house before you wake up? Or is he those types who spoil you with all the time in the world while still keeping up with his job?”

With a small smile, Caelum answered, “I don’t have a father. I mean, I had one once, I suppose, but my parents divorced years ago.” He looked down thoughtfully. “My mother never even mentions him. It’s like he evaporated into thin air or something.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair before taking another Oreo from the packaging.

“It’s scary how the way nobody stays together anymore.”

“Tell me about it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m turning twelve on December 24.”

Altair choked, swiveling his head to the boy beside him. “That’s my birthday, too!”

“We have the same birthday,” Caelum trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How weird is that.”

“Extremely,” the short-haired boy answered, looking out the window the next second. “Hey, would you look at that? It finally stopped raining.” Standing up from the bed, he stretched his arms into the air and sighing in satisfaction. “Come on, Cae, let’s get some popsicles from the mess hall. It’s always good to eat something cold in this weather.” He went outside the cabin until he noticed that the door didn’t open after him. Curiously, Altair looked up from the bottom of the stairs, meeting the stare of his perturbed friend. “Hey, are you alright?”

Caelum was fidgeting with his sweater, looking at anywhere except for the boy at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned against the railings before speaking out what was bothering his mind since he saw the picture of Altair’s father, “Al, what’s your mother like?”

Stuffing his hands inside his pockets, Altair answered, “She’s not exactly in the picture in our little family. I mean, she and Dad split up when I was a baby or even before that. I never met her and Dad never talks about her every time he’s at the house.” He then remembered the picture he stole from his father’s nightstand after trying to find the photo album with his parents in it. “But I know she’s really, really beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, even if it was just a picture I stole from Dad’s nightstand.”

“Do you have that picture right now?”

“Yeah? Hey, I’m getting hungry, let’s get some lunch.”

The wavy-haired boy turned around, leaving Altair outside of the cabin. “Don’t you realize what’s happening?” When he faced the boy following him, he saw how Altair jumped an inch at how quickly he turned around. Holding back a snicker, Caelum continued his theory, “Look, I don’t have a father and you’re also missing your mother. We’ve also never seen our missing parents. You have one picture of your mum and I also have one picture of my dad. Well, at least you have one whole picture, mine’s a pathetic crinkled little thing and ripped down the middle ...” He stopped his rambling when he saw Altair dashing his trunk. “What are you rummaging in your trunk for?”

“This.” Altair pointed at the picture in his hands. “This is the picture of my mom and it’s ripped down the middle, too.”

Caelum also went to his desk, taking out a tin box where he kept all the photos of his family members. He slid out a ripped photograph and went back to his friend’s side. “On the count of three, let’s put it together.”

“One.”

“Two.”

Together they shouted, “Three!”

Like puzzle pieces, the two ripped parts became a whole picture again, like the two boys inside the small cabin as they looked at each other and realized they share more than just their birthdays and love for peanut butter Oreos.

“I have this crazy yet genius idea!”

“I hope this doesn’t concern another dip in the lake.”

“No, this is better.” A crazy glint in Altair’s eyes appeared. “Let’s switch places when we go home.”

#attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman x reader #modern au #i had fun writing this kannwkw #rorywrites #levi ackerman

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tohruhondaismydaughter · 3 years

Text

Just had some headcanons about Machi pop into my head that I wanted to share with yall. So we know this poor girl struggles with "perfect"/neat things right? Well I was thinking about some healthy coping mechanisms she could develop to replace the whole 'breaking property/living in a dump' thing & here's what I got so far -

1. She always tries to wear odd socks (unless she's invited somewhere nice)

2. Ayame & Mine help her find cool asymmetrical stuff to wear, how to make clashing colours/patterns work for her & teach her how to sew up her old clothes in a more "punk rock" way (after Yuki & Kakeru explain some of her issues with perfection)

3. Tohru gently points out that she dosn't have to tie her laces the same way on both shoes if she dosn't want to

4. Haru & Rin (awkwardly on her part) teach her the power of acessorising (ie. wearing only one earing, putting on an uneven amount of bracelets/rings/necklaces, adding paper clips of different sizes & colours to your clothing & Machi later ends up adding stuff like buttons to her outfits/belongings as well which Haru & Rin are tottally surppotive of despite thier difference in style) & hair/makeup which (thanks to Yuki's advice) they make sure to keep slightly messy (Kimi laughed at it at first until Momiji made her feel bad after he told her that Machi had gone to the bathroon & wiped off all the make up & undid the hair style so Kimi bought her some limited edition Mogeta merch, after asking for Yuki's advice, in apolgey & started referring to Machi's new hair/makeup style as "punk chic" whenever anyone tried to mock Machi about her new look)

5. her & Momiji go on a crazy tie dying adventure (much to Hatori's grumbling & Mayu's amusement)

6. Kormaki gets her into collecting second hand fridge magnets which she then later uses in her work (my version of post-serise Machi is an artist) once the magnetism finally wears off

7. Kagura teaches her how to fix up old plushies (Machi likes creating Mogeta inspired characters) & gives Machi all her old cat ones to work on (Machi descides not to ask why Yuki's cousin was seemingly once obssesd with orange cats because she looks rather embrassed & a little sad when she hands over her collection)

8. Kyo reluctantly teaches her how to cook a few simple dishes (Tohru comes over as well & Yuki insists her food is better but Machi prefers Kyo's simple style of presentation so it's eventually descided that Kyo & her will do the cooking & Tohru & Yuki will deal with the cleaning which Yuki agrees to becuse cleaning is still difficult for Machi but Kyo says it's actually because no matter how much Tohru tried to train him rat boy knows he would never be able to do anything in the kitchen but burn water)

9. Kakeru teaches her the skills of 'excessive badge & sticker decorating' as well as giving eachother fake tattoos (Kisa congratulates Hiro on not saying anything rude to Yuki's girlfriend about her appreance after they first meet her)

10. Cuts her hair short (she delibretly makes it very choppy) once she enters university, where the rules are less strict about your apprence (at least it is if your at art college), & she also regulary wears diffrent coloured wigs (her favourites being a dark red one & a rainbow one) whenever she wants to temporarily change her appearance (beacuse she didn't want to commit to just one look, still wanted to have the ability to quickly "become invisable" again & she heard from Kimi that exsseive hair die-ing could permantly destroy her hair & scalp) it takes her until she's 30 to try out shaving all her hair off (she worried she'd look sick/crazy or not feminine enough) & everyone's really surppotive (though Kimi dose cry a bit, Rin & Haru aren't there when her hair is being shaved & Kyo is a slightly confused as he'd always thought women liked having longer hair then guys) especially Ritsu (who's growing out thier hair again) & they all throw her a big party (Haru & Rin are there for the party bit just not the hair removal bit because it brought up some bad memories) where Kakeru films it & posts it (with Machi's permission) & they give her cut off hair to a charity chosen by all thier followers (despite her disbelief Machi has manged to gain a small group of loyal fans from all her art stuff & her apprences on her loved ones social media), Kakeru also later uploads a video where they help Machi rainbow dye her buzz cut, (she later explores many diffrent types of buzz cut patterns such as flowers & geometric shapes but, at Kimi's insistence, gets them done by a professional)

11. She recycles & D.Y.I's like crazy (Momiji started singing Do Re Mi from The Sound Of Music after she told him that her new dress was actually made from curtains & Yuki cried when she gave him a little rat plushie made from felt, after he came clean to her about the curse)

12. She almost never wears an apron while working on her art because she likes getting messy

13. When her & Yuki go out to eat she loves things like fondoe (both the chocolate & cheese kind), eat N mess & is genreually just a fan of finger food & it becomes a tradition between her & Yuki (& later Mutsuki) to go on a stroll through the park after thier meal & (if it's autumn) look for piles of leaves to jump in (Machi & Yuki also like playing a game where they try to look for the weirdest looking leaf to give eachother & whoever wins gets to pick what they'll eat for dinner that evening & the looser has to cook it, Mutsuki is the "impartial" judge)

14. Machi is amazing at scrapbooking & collarge making (Tohru is more of a dream journal kind of girl)

15. When it's Summer her, Yuki & Mutsuki go down to the beach to see who can find the weirdest looking rocks (the less impressive ones often get used in Machi's art work, the coolest ones Mutsuki gets to keep & any that are too perfect get tossed back in the ocean & Mutsuki likes to score the splashes they make on how big/loud they are)

16. She loves helping Yuki out with gardening for lots of reasons (it's therapeutic & she loves seeing Yuki happy) but she can't deny it's also just fun getting muddy

17. Machi, thanks to Kakeru, devolpes a love of paint ball (but instead of using guns they just throw the paint at eachother like in 10 Things I Hate About You because apparently the gun pellets actually hurt) & will bring it up as an activity idea to her loved ones any chanse she gets

18. Decorates as much of her flat (& later her home with Yuki & Mutsuki) with Mogeta merchandise, random things she collects & her own art work as a big fuck you to her bitch "you have 0 personality/hobbies or talents" of a mother

19. Kisa (happily) & Hiro (reluctantly) introduce Machi to the magic of glitter

20. Machi & Rin eventually become proper friends due to bonding over being abounded by their asshole parents & one of the things they like to do together is work on thier seprete art peices while listening to music (Machi dosn't do any of her "aggressive" art, like plate smashing, around Rin though thanks to Yuki & Haru warnings)

21. When stuff gets to be too much & none of thier other coping strategies are working (like watching Mogeta stoned- which Kisa, Tohru & Momiji do not partake in) Machi & Haru bond by going to rage rooms together to destroy shit & scream (Haru obviously dosn't want Rin around for any of that though so Momiji, Tohru, Kagura or Hana will often take the opportunity to hang out with her, one time Yuki offered & it wasn't bad but it was definitely awkward as they had never really hung out without Haru before & Haru teases her for ages afterwards about her ending up liking Yuki once she actually spent some time with him which, like the precious tsundere she is, Rin will forever deny)

22. (I actually made a whole seprete post about this ages ago but now it seems to have vanished so in case other Machi fans are unable to find it l'll add it here) on the days that it's supposed to snow but dosn't Yuki takes her (& later Mutsuki) skating so she can enjoy scratching up the perfectly smooth ice (they would have gone on double dates with Tohru & Kyo if Tohru wasn't freaked out at the idea of having blades on her shoes & Kyo hadn't claimed to "not trust" ice, he's dislike comes from all the times Kagura had forced him to ice skate with her on the lake near Kazuma's place in the winter when they were kids, so they would instead go with Haru & Momiji - they had thought about going with Haru x Rin & Kakeru x Kormaki once but he proudly revealed that he'd been banned from thier local ice rink years ago for trying "perfectly safe" Olympic level stunts in he's attempt to recreate one of he's favriote episodes of Power Rangers, much to he's fiancee's anger, & Machi reminded Yuki that though Haru & Kakeru were fine with eachother Rin isn't reall able to stand Kakeru for longer than 5 minuites)

#fruits basket #headcanons #machi #machi kuragi #machi headcanons #machi kuragi headcanons #fruits basket headcanons

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sukorakurai · 3 years

Photo

@snarkyship is a true genius. I commission this Stark Family Portrait and I couldn’t be happier. I wrote a little fic to accompany this fabulous Picture. hope you all enjoy.

Stark Family Picture Day

By Sukora Kurai

Tony sighed over the counter in the communal kitchen. He had been there since dawn when he asked Jarvis what day it was. Then his trusty AI informed him of an importance of this month. Now he was stuck with what to do now.

“Hey Tony what’s got you down?”

“Hey Capsicle, I’m doomed.”

“Oh come on Tony, it can’t be that bad you are an Avenger.” Steve smiled as he got out food to make omelets for the Team, and greeted the in coming members. “Morning Nat, morning Bruce.”

“Morning Steve, what’s wrong with Tony?” Bruce greeted heading to the stove to put the kettle on for his morning tea.

“Not sure I found him like this.” Steve stated cracking some eggs into a bowl.

“His and Loki’s anniversary is this month and he has no idea what to get him.” Nat answered pouring a large mug of coffee.

Tony shot up in his seat and stared slack jawed. “How could you possibly know that?”

“It’s my job as a shield Agent and Pepper’s PA to keep tabs on you. So it is well documented when you clumsily asked Loki to be your boyfriend during the Lord of the Rings Marathon where you bought out the AMC Theater for the day.” The Spy shrugged ignoring the fact that all her team mates stared at her in horror. All were now wondering what she had on them in those SHIELD files.

“So Tony, you have and anniversary coming up? Have you though about what Loki might like?” Steve coughed drawing the conversation back to the main topic.

“No, I don’t. What does one give a god especially one that has magic and can make anything appear out of thin air?” Tony waved his arms in frustration.

“That is a tough one but I’m sure anything you get him will be fine. Loki loves you Tony.” Bruce tried to be supportive.

“I hope you will be putting more thought into the gift you give me next month for our anniversary.” Nat gave the Gamma Doctor a pointed before wandering out of the room to start her routine before heading out to work.

“Ha, I’m not the only one in hot water now!” Tony crowed at the look of devastation in his science-bro’s face.

“Tony, knock it off. Now in my day it was the thought that counted most. You should find what Loki cherishes the most. You find that then you can present to him in a meaningful way. It’s true he’s a prince and probably has had his other lovers throw jewels and meaningless expensive trinkets at him to win his affections. You know Loki better because you love him and he loves you.” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah, Lokes complains a lot about his life in Asgard and that there were many who wooed him just to get to Thor. At night when it’s just the two of us and RC snuggled between us he sighs soft and says what a perfect night it is. He never elaborates but I think it means that he likes just the quiet nights with us.” The genius eyes went glazed as he recalled the many nights he cuddled with his god. Then the idea hit him. “Hey Spangles, can you paint or do you just draw?”

“Huh,” Steve was caught off guard and almost dropped the omelet he was flipping. “I paint from time to time.”

“Don’t lie babe you are in your studio whenever can get the chance.” Bucky laughed entering the kitchen. “All the paintings in our apartment Stevie did.”

“Great! Can you do a portrait if I get you a picture?” Tony asked digging in to the ham and cheese omelet.

“Yeah, it might take two weeks maybe less depends on if we get called out or if SHIELD needs me.” The captain estimated placing another plate in front of his boyfriend.

“As long as it’s done before the end of the month we’re good. Jarvis start looking through my photos and pull out any possible portraits.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Delicious breakfast as usual Capsicle. I’ll get you the photo as soon as I find one.” Tony dumped his empty plate in sink and ran off to his lab.

Two hours later…

“None of these are good enough J.”

“Sir, might I suggest you take a new photo of you and Prince Loki.”

“Yeah and RC too, because she’s our baby. We can’t have a Family Portrait without all the family members. Where’s are RC now?”

“She is currently with Alpine in his play room.”

“Cool, I think I got the perfect outfit in mind.” Tony grinned as he ran to his emergency closet in the lab. Tony had put in the closet when he realized he destroyed a lot of his clothes during his inventing and building phases. Also there was a suit or two for the days he forgot he was supposed to be in a meeting and had to make a rush to the board room.

In the penthouse…

It had been a quiet morning with no call outs, no calls to Asgard and no need to go anywhere. Loki decided to enjoy the peace and quite lounging in his soft Asgardian casual clothes on the couch reading his mother’s spell journal.

“Hey there, Bambi! It’s Picture Day!”

“Anthony, what are you on about?” The prince looked up from his book to see his lover carrying their cat into the living room.

“Well Picture Day refers to the day school kids take pictures for the yearbook and photos are bought for family distribution. Anyways I want to have a family picture that was honest. I never had that growing up because Howard was an asshole and Maria, my mother, was frail. She loved me but she couldn’t express it because she was always ill. Now we have our own little family and I want a picture to put in the lab.”

“You want to take this picture now? Anthony, I look a mess and how did you get the bow on the cat?”

“Aww, you look gorgeous, love, as always. Anyways, I put a bow on our baby because RC loves to look pretty for her daddies. Don’t you sweetie.” Tony scratched under the kitty’s chin as they sat on couch next to the god.

“Mew,” RC purred.

“Fine, you win, where would you like to take the picture? Also what are you wearing? I don’t believe I’ve seen that outfit before, and what is on your feet?” Loki set his book aside and took in his lover’s appearance.

“Oh you like? I dressed in red and gold to match my shoes. I had these shoes made based on my Iron Man suit. I thought maybe putting them on the market for kids but I liked them too much to share. So I have a life time supply in the lab. If you want I can have a pair made for you.”

“No thank you. They clash with my outfit. Now let’s take your picture.” Loki said taking the cat in his arms.

“Okay, okay. Let me get out my phone.” Tony fished his Stark Phone out of his back pocket and held it out to make them all fit in the frame. “Okay say cheese!”

“Click”

“Okay let’s see how that one turned out.” Tony looked at the photo to see him smiling a black blur and a bland look on Loki’s face. “Nope we got try again. This time smile Loki and RC you need to stay still so we can see you.”

And it went picture by picture they have yet to take a family portrait.

“Shit I only got half your face.”

“Anthony your thumb is on the lens.”

“RC Stay still!”

“Achoo! Ow! I dropped on my foot!”

“Do not eat my hair you Retched Creature!”

“Okay I set it up on a tripod. Now say cheese.”

“CHEESE BROTHER!” Thor popped up between the two men who stared at shock at the blond god.

“Next!” Tony rolled his eyes as Loki vanished his brother to where ever. Tony didn’t ask where the Loki sent Thunder god. He rather liked staying in the tower and wanted to keep it that way.

“Meow!”

“No RC! Don’t chase the bunny!”

Three Hours Later…

“Okay, this is it I can feel it. Now Jarvis is going to take the picture the bunnies are secure in their room. The penthouse is locked down, so no unexpected guest and RC is filled of milk to keep her calm and relaxed. And I promise after we get this picture I will have Jarvis order you favorite meal from the Thai Palace down the street and I’ll rub your feet, while we watch you favorite Harry Potter movies.”

“Oh Anthony you spoil me. I love you.” Loki sighed as a soft smile graced his face and he leaned into his lover as Tony joined their hands together. RC who was seated now on the god’s shoulder leaned in and purred soaking up the love of her people. The genius couldn’t be happier in that moment as he had his to precious family members with him and the grin on his face was wide and bright.

“Click.”

Two Weeks Later…

“Sir Prince Loki and Mr. Odinson have returned from Asgard.”

“Great, I got everything ready. Tell Loki that I have dinner ready and waiting.”

“Yes, sir.” Tony had the table set with Loki’s Favorite food from the five star steak house, they go to. He paid extra to have the chef come over and cook for their anniversary.

“Ding.”

“Thank you, Jarvis. Evening Anthony, never in my life had been so glad to leave Asgard. He talked for hours at the council over stagnant topics. What’s all this?”

“Well my hard working God of Mischief, today is our one year Anniversary and I have planned the perfect evening. Dinner, a bath and I installed a movie screen in our bathroom so we can enjoy the movie of your choice during the bath and then I plan on us making love until dawn.” Tony pulled Loki over to the dinner table, watching as the god’s magic removed the armor and replaced it with comfortable Asgardian wear.

“You lovely little man, you spoil me so; I don’t deserve it or you.” The Raven pulled the billionaire into his arms and planting kisses all over the man’s face.

“Yes you do, because I love you and I got you something, well I got Cap to make it, but it was my idea.”

“You didn’t have to, dinner is more than enough.”

“No, I wanted to. Now close your eyes and I’ll get your present.” As Loki closed his eyes Tony ran out of the room and grabbed the portrait from where he hid it. He placed it on the wall then Jarvis turned on the lights illuminating the painting. “Okay open them.”

“Oh Anthony! It’s wonderful.” Loki’s eyes became all misty seeing their little family together and there was so much love radiating from painting. “It’s perfect.”

“Happy Anniversary Reindeer Games.”

“Happy Anniversary, my Man of Iron.” Loki whispered pulling Tony in to the sweetest kiss they ever shared. They didn’t hear the click sound of Jarvis capturing the moment with the sunset background. Another memory to save for another day.

The End.

#fanart #fiction from fanart #iron frost #frostiron #ironfrost #Iron Man #tony x loki #loki x tony #loki #random black cat #tony stark #Avengers #Marvel MCU #Family Portrait

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thescreamingraven · 4 years

Text

A promise

Dabi x reader

Genre/warnings: Fluff and angst, domestic, slight mentions of injury.

Words: 2 203

Summary: A promise is something to be kept then why do you insist on breaking it?

“Mom! Daddy’s home” Your daughter screamed at the top of her lungs as she charged to the door. When it opened, Dabi couldn’t even get one foot in your house before she clung to him.

“I’m home.” Dabi smiled softly, picking up his little girl.

You appeared from the kitchen and approached the two of them. “Welcome home.” You cooed gently, reaching up and running your fingers through Dabi’s hair.

It’s been like that for a few years, peaceful and quiet.. It was a bit difficult at first, when you told Dabi you were pregnant and were planning to keep it; he started to avoid you, ignoring your calls and messages, but after some soul searching he came around. You both knew deep down that it was the right thing to do, even if it was going to be difficult.

After that, you both quickly bought a small house together in a safe area outside the city. You took a break from heroism and Dabi stopped going on missions for a while. The nine months were tough with your hormones taking a toll and Dabi being not the most patient person ever, it had an impact on your relationship. Also, the fear of bringing a new life into this corrupted world wasn’t the best either, but here you were… countless sleepless nights later.

Your little girl was almost eight now, which was exciting on its own. She was the perfect picture of her dad. You sometimes wondered if she got any genes from you or was it all her Dabi. Who knew that a hero and villain could create someone so pure, so sweet, so innocent and so loud…

You leaned against your kitchen counter and looked at the two most important people in your life. Your daughter was sitting in Dabi’s lap babbling about her day and showing the pictures you helped her draw. You instinctively touched your stomach. “We need to tell him” You whispered to yourself, rubbing small circles on your stomach.

You decided to try a new recipe you saw online, which proved to be quite a challenge. It was something you never cooked before and the steps were confusing. You massaged your temples and jumped a bit when you felt someone’s arms around you.

“Here, let me help, you must be tired…” Dabi Purred as he took the knife you’ve had in your hands and placed it on the counter after that he gently kissed your cheek

“Well, hello to you too.” You giggled, relaxing into his warmth.

“Your shoulders feel a bit stern.” He said placing a kiss on your shoulder and reaching to get another cutboard from the upper cabinet.

“I’m fine. I didn’t even do that much today.” You mumbled picking up the knife once again.

“Still….” He looked at his daughter who was scribbling something on a piece of paper, from this angle she looked like an angel, deep down he still couldn’t believe that it was his daughter, even if she did look a lot like him. “She can be a little… active sometimes.”

He looked at your phone. “New recipe, huh?”

“Yea thought I’d try cooking something new.”

“How do I… cut this?” You murmured to yourself, holding the knife horizontally.

“If you do that you’ll cut yourself, Hold on, give me your hands,” Dabi said as he once again stood behind you, intertwining his hands with yours and assisting you in cutting.

“Getting handsy, huh?” You teased.

“Don’t get any ideas miss, I’m taken,” He looked at you and nuzzled slightly into your neck “And happily so.”

You giggled, planting a small kiss on his cheek.

“Have you ever cooked this before?” You asked soothingly.

“I cooked something similar, I think… When I was little, I need to help out a lot because of my siblings, so I learned how to cook.” He explained. “I think my mom used to cook something similar.”

“Huh, maybe you should drop this whole villainy thing and become a chef.” You chuckled, turning around to face him.

“Oh yeah, I’ll conquer the world with my amazing cooking skills…” He remarked, pulling you closer.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and scratched his scalp gently. You both looked at your daughter, who was now distracted by the TV.

“You know she’s really excited about her birthday tomorrow.” You chirped.

“Did she ask for that dog again?” He smirked.

Tell him

“You okay?”

Now or never, just spit it out

“She asked for a puppy again.” You mumbled turning your back on him, once again focusing on your dish, Dabi cocked his eyebrow and sighed.

“No, seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You smiled faintly. “I’m just glad your back is all.”

You glanced at him and saw that he wasn’t going to let this go, so before he could continue pressing the matter, you mumbled. “I think it’s finished… think you can get her?”

He gave you a suspicious look but nodded nonetheless. He walked towards your daughter while you began to set the table.

He sat down near her, patting her head. “Dinners ready.” He cooed softly.

Before she could get up, he gently pulled her into a hug and whispered. “Mommy seems a bit off today, do you know why?”

“No, but,” She hesitated and looked at her father, he gave her a slight nod and she continued “Mommy cried today… I asked her why but she didn’t tell me…”

“I see,” he mumbled. “Well, get your butt to the kitchen.”

“But my drawing…”

“You can finish it later…” He chirped slightly patting her back.

She gave him her drawing “Do you like it?”

“Of course I do now, cmon” He picked her up while her loud giggles filled the room “time to eat.

The dinner went by quietly while your daughter’s favorite cartoons played in the background you and Dabi barely kept any conversation going. The guilt of keeping it from him grew bigger and bigger by the minute.

Dabi could see that you were nervous about something, but decided not to start that kind of discussion in front of your kid. The last thing she needs is to worry about her parents fighting, he thought.

When the dinner ended, you suggested washing the dishes while Dabi put your daughter to sleep. It didn’t take you that long to finish and the stars outside looked so gorgeous tonight, so you decided to go get some fresh air and do some soul searching, so you put on Dabi’s jacket and your shoes and stepped outside. The night was warm with no trail of wind anywhere; the crickets were loudly chirping. You looked up at the sky and got lost in it; it was difficult not to, There were so many stars, different sizes, ones brighter than the others. You were so overwhelmed by the night’s sky that you didn’t even notice Dabi coming up to you and leaning down on the porch next to you.

“Have room for one more?”

You jumped slightly.

“Sorry didn’t see you there…” You gasped.

“But Yes, I think there’s one more free spot right here.” You teased, tapping the railing, signaling him to get closer, and he did. He wrapped one of his hands around you and pulled you in.

“She’s something else huh..?” He quietly mumbled, “Hell, I still can’t believe that’s she’s ours… we made her…”

With a sigh, he gently turned your face so you would meet his gaze.

“Tell me what’s wrong”

Before you could say anything he quickly interrupted, “Don’t say nothing, I know you well enough to know when something is bothering you.”

You let your head fall, scared to meet his gaze.

“Were you going to tell me?” You asked with simple directness. “About the mission.”

“Oh…” He sighed. “You heard that…”

You gave him a sad smile “Yeah,” You finally lifted your head facing his piercing blue eyes.

“You never keep things for me….” You murmured. “So wh-?”

”Your doctor left you a voicemail.” he said with a casual tone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He saw your expression change like lighting, and the look of guilt replaced any frustration you might have had.

He’s going to leave you.

You should’ve told him before it was too late.

“I…” You signed, “I was going to tell you…”

“When?”

You hesitated. “Soon…?”

“Bullshit,” He snapped. “two months Y/n, that’s a long time. And you know what’s worse, I had to find out from your doctor… and on accident too.”

“I’m sorry.” You Sniffled. “I just…” Suddenly it became all too overwhelming, and you began to sob. “I thought… I thought maybe, you didn’t want it… and maybe you’d leave… like l-last time”

He saw you break down before his eyes. “Y/n…” He pulled you into his warm embrace, slowly messaging your back.

“Look at me.” He cupped your cheeks and made you face him. “I want this… alright?”

“R- really?”

“Yes, of course, I do…” He cooed softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. And besides, I’m happy that our little angel will get a sibling, maybe she’ll calm down a bit.” He smiled.

“I just wish you’ve told me…” He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go inside, we wouldn’t want you to get sick now would we.”

You lay entangled in Dabi’s arms, feeling his slow and calm heartbeat, while he draws small circles on your back.

“So is it dangerous?” You finally broke the silence.

“No, just some basic stuff. Don’t worry, it won’t take that long… I’ll be home before morning. It will be like I never left.”

You lifted your head from Dabi’s chest.

“You know she’ll be crushed if you don’t come.” You murmured, nuzzling away a stray of hair from his face.

“I will, I promise, I’ll come back to you… and when I do…” we can both go pick up that mutt she keeps babbling on about.”

You repeated confusingly. “Mutt?” You giggled. “You got her a dog.”

“Quiet,” He shushed.

“You’re such a softie Toya… where did my big evil villain go?” You teased.

“Shut up you snot,” He pressed your head back on his chest “it’s your fault you know you did this,” he retorted.

Before sleep could overtake, you whispered something to him.

“I love you… please come back to me…”

“I love you too Y/n, and I will that’s a promise”

After that, you slowly drifted away to a deep slumber.

Half of the city laid in ashes, the street where Dabi was thrown during his little encounter only had one street light left. He slowly began to crawl to a nearby boulder thrown by none other than Endeavor himself. It was supposed to be a simple low-key mission; they needed to retrieve some supplies from one of their warehouses. How did something so insignificant attract the hero’s attention?

“I know you’re there, old man, you can come out. Noth-” He winced in pain, trying to at least slow down the bleeding. “I can’t really do anything now.”

He could see two figures approaching him, yet even in the dead of night, he knew who they were.

“You know I never thought that Shoto would-” he coughed.

“But you did it, you actually did it.” He chuckled.

Both figures quickly appeared before him, kneeling down next to him, talking about something Dabi could barely understand. He looked at Shoto, who was seemed to be panicking. “We need to get him help.” Endeavor stated while wrapping something around Dabi’s torso.

“I knew this day would come… eventually, I just didn’t expect you to-” Dabi began to cough drastically.

“Stop talking, son, and save your strength.” Endeavor advised.

“He’s bleeding out fast.” Shoto shuddered while trying to keep constant pressure on the wound. “Keep your eyes open, Toya. “Shoto pleaded.

“You’re such a softie Toya… where did my big evil villain go?”

Dabi tried to push himself up, mumbling something under his breath, but Shoto stopped him. “I can’t die here… I promised her… I-” Dabi started to tremble.

“I think he’s confused.” Shoto blurted.

“I love you… please come back to me…”

“Just hold on alright? We’ll get you some help.” Endeavor comforted.

Dabi could feel himself getting colder, he could feel himself slipping away. So he made a decision. He pulled Endeavor closer by his collar.

“Listen, you old bastard.” he coughed. “124th. Cherry street.”

Endeavor stared at him, confused and dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.

“Repeat it to me.” Dabi barked.

“124th. Cherry street.”

“Good. If I don’t make it Keep them safe for me…” Dabi winced in pain. “And tell…. tell, ” Dabi mumbled something under his breath, before slowly passing out.

The sound of the sirens was blocked by Shotos screaming and Endeavor murmuring something like a chant or prayer. Yet the only thing that Dabi could hear was the voices that sounded almost angelic. They pulled him deeper into the darkness like sirens luring him into a song he could never leave.

“I love you… please come back to me…”

“I love you too Y/n, and I will, that’s a promise”

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #fluff and angst #mha x y/n #established relationship #bnha dabi

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writersrealmbts · 4 years

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Diamond Tears and Little Wings: Part 5

Description: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 02/11/2021

Tags: bts x reader, ot7

Angst/Fluff/Angst: 3,846 words

A/N: Okay, I told you guys that I would be alternating between DTLW and Clearwater Springs, so here’s the proof. Anyway, two more parts after this!

Your fourth home in five years is what they told you this was. But you couldn’t remember any but this one.

So your heart was aching, and you always wanted to cry, but you never dared to do so. Something, someone’s, words, telling you that crying in front of strangers was dangerous kept echoing in your head. So you blinked away any tears that came, hugged your stuffed animal, and studied the area you would lived in.

It was a little cold, so you hugged your coat tighter to you. You’d been told by the other fairies that your coat was special, because it appeared to be designed exactly for your wings, which was rare. But none of them seemed to have any idea why you would have such a special coat, excepting the fact that maybe in the country you came from it was more normalized to have custom wing-slits.

It was completely normal to come away from a home with a stuffed animal, and clothing and jewelry that could shrink down. People liked dressing up fairies.

You played with your bracelet as you examined the cement floor, and the plain white walls, and the windows that weren’t quiet fully insulated but were full east and full west, respectively, and provided quite a bit of natural lighting. You had your own bathroom and kitchen area, and the laundry room was in the basement. The bed was a bit creaky, but the mattress seemed decent. You had a cute lamp on the side table, and they had a few books for you on a bookshelf that had the bottom shelf broken beside the side table.

There was shoebox bedroom on one of the shelves as well, very simple, with just a bed in it, but it was decorated carefully—though perhaps by their daughter. There was felt covering the floor and back wall, which would provide a little insulation for you. The outside was colored on, but you didn’t have a problem with that.

There was an old rug rolled off to one side that they said you could use, and a bar with some hangers already hanging on it and plastic drawers they said you could used for your clothing.

You looked at your suitcase, which was resting on the bed, then set your dog on top of it while you got the rug, unrolling it and placing it near your bed.

Your job there was to do their laundry and take care of the cat that their daughter wouldn’t let them get rid of, and to entertain their daughter now and then, and when you weren’t delivering the clean laundry or entertaining their daughter you were to stay in the basement bedroom. Simple enough.

The cat was a sweetheart and the laundry was quite simple with only three people to wash for. Laundry was tossed down the shoot daily and every Monday and Thursday you were to deliver their clean laundry before they awoke.

They weren’t cruel, or strict, just very structured and busy.

She was very kind and brought you groceries, even getting you exactly what you requested. You just had to leave a list with her laundry on Mondays, because Mondays were grocery days. She even spontaneously bought you a cake, and when you told her that the basement was a little cold for you, she found a nice heater for you that greatly improved things, and found some more blankets around the house for you. They were generally gone over the weekends, visiting a different set of grandparents each weekend, which left you and Cupcake, the cat, alone in the house to do as you pleased.

Those were the days you ventured down to the fairy market, which was a safe space for fairies and since you did get an allowance for doing the laundry, you could sometimes buy some special treats or things that you needed.

You weren’t a fan of the husband, which was fine, because he only seemed to come downstairs if he needed to check the water-heater (they were having issues with it and he was too stubborn to call whoever it was that professionally dealt with those things), or to ask you to do an emergency clean on a shirt or tie or slacks. It wasn’t that he was mean, or sleazy, or that he gave you bad vibes, he was just very grumpy and brisk. Cold.

And he hated the cat.

Plus you had the distinct feeling that if he found out about your diamond tears it would be a very bad thing. He was a greedy man, raising a greedy daughter.

But you had a CD player now, and you could find CD’s now and then at the fairy market, and the wife said you could use any CD’s you found in the basement.

Which was how you found your current favorite CD. You weren’t certain who the artists were because the disc hadn’t been in it’s proper case, but their songs were so nice. And you loved the one song.

So some days, when you had nothing to do but give the cat all the love it wanted, you just listened to that CD on repeat, singing words as though you’d known them before.

You did different crafts, and solved some of the abandoned puzzles from the storage room.

You improved your shoe-box, replacing the bed (it was a sponge, hard and weird to lay on) with a carefully arranged nest of fabrics and stuffing. Sometimes you stuck your stuffed dog into the shoebox and snuggled into that. The smells on it so familiar and foreign that it made you cry.

Which meant you had to find a place to hide your tears. Normally you just saved them and exchanged them at the fairy market—where the currency exchange fairy, Heidrun, just discretely nodded and added their value to your shopping card balance.

But one day she stopped you before you could leave, holding your hands. “You don’t look well, dear.”

“Fourth home,” You told her simply, shrugging. “It’s more of a job than a home. But I’m not…I’m not suffering. She always makes sure I have what I need and allows me a lot of freedom. I have the whole basement to myself, and I’m allowed in the side-yard at all times. She even encourages me to come here. And I have music to listen to. Actually, I found a CD I really like, but I don’t know what band they are because it doesn’t say on the disc.”

“Try Magnus, he knows everything going on in the music scene,” She told you, squeezing your hands. “And trying to hold onto whatever love you’ve got and are getting. It’s not healthy for our kind to go unloved.”

You nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Magnus did help you, granted, you had to sing a couple of the songs for him to find the right group, but once he did, he sent to you over to Frida with a request for BTS albums.

Frida nodded, pulling out several book-like things. “They’re super popular, but they’re also in a ton a magazines right now. They lost their fairy because of some scandal, and now they’re in a slump, but they’re also going on a world tour, so it can’t be that much of a slump. They’re actually coming to our stadium for a concert, which is cool. They’ve started putting up the posters already.”

You looked at the books, confused. “I thought you said they were albums?”

“They are. The CD’s are accompanied by a booklet of photos and the lyrics, photocards, and usually a poster.”

You blinked then picked up the biggest one, concerned and confused. “It’s…huge…and a box?”

She just snorted. “You want that one? It’s one of their more recent ones. Don’t have their newest yet, but I can see if I can get one for you.”

You nodded. “That’d be nice, but sure, I’ll…take this one for now.”

She nodded and swiped your card. “All yours, sweet-cheeks. Now, tell me how you get your hair that shiny.”

You grabbed your hair and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wash it.”

“Not even fair,” She muttered, then turned to a new customer.

You went home after hitting a few more stalls, getting more craft things and some stuff for the kitty, hugging the album and wondering what awaited you inside.

Cupcake was waiting for you on your bed, sitting up and meowing loudly, stretching out a paw for you to take (which you did because why else teach him that trick) and then purring and arching into your hand.

“I know, I was gone for forever,” You scooped him up after successfully setting everything else down. “I bought some new music for us. You need a better name. A masculine name. You don’t respond to Cupcake anyway—not that I blame you. It’s a rather poor choice of a name for a cat, much less a tom.”

He just purred, climbing up onto your shoulders and riding there while you put away the few food items you had purchased and hopping onto the fridge while you started cooking your dinner.

You hummed as you tried to think of a different name for him, but after a moment you paused, wondering what song it was you were humming and why it was so familiar and yet so distant. So easy, but you couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember the moment you stopped singing what the words were or how the song went, despite having reached the chorus. You could only remember the last words you sang.

You shook your head and went over, quickly opening the box to where the disc was in the album without seeing any sign of the pictures (Maybe a poster?) and then popping it into the player.

But it was worse than the first one, because you swore you knew each song. You had vague images in your head of people performing the songs. It hurt. It hurt to hear these songs because they were too familiar. Too familiar and yet so completely foreign that it was unfair.

The first one wasn’t too bad, but the second started really getting to you.

By the third song you were in tears.

By the chorus of the fourth song you were full-on sobbing on the bed.

The fifth song clashed so much with the sentiments of the previous two that it just broke you down further, and you had to turn it off before you started screaming at the empty space where the music should have come from.

You grabbed the photos from the album box after you had calmed down enough. Not bothering to try and remove the sticker, you slide the photos out and started flipping through the pages, horrified at the fact that they looked so achingly familiar and yet you had no idea who they were.

You tossed them back in the box and slammed it shut, eyes filled with tears.

But you must not have woken when someone came into the basement, because three days later the man was demanding to know where you got so many diamonds.

And fairies can’t lie.

Five days later you were staring out the window, a place you couldn’t go until you filled the box on your small counter space with diamonds. It wasn’t too large, but it was large enough that you were worried about whether you would ever fill it.

So you turned on the disc again, and cried. Cried until you were sick, and then collapsed into your bed. Exhaustedly petting the cat until you fell asleep, only to repeat it the next day. And the next.

When you finally filled it, you went straight to the market just to get some time away from the basement.

The shopkeepers from your regular stops came rushing up when they saw you, even Heidrun, all asking where you’d been and if you were okay and before you knew it you were sitting at one of the picnic tables with some soup and some tea and a bunch of worried fairies fussing over you.

Frida sat silently across from you, looking concerned but ultimately staring at the table.

Or so you thought, because she suddenly reached across the table and grabbed your bracelet. “Where did you get this?”

You blinked and tried to recoil, but couldn’t. “I don’t remember. I just figured it was from one of my previous homes.

Magnus frowned, looking at it. “It looks a lot like the one that…”

She nodded. “There’s something etched onto them. Fairy craftsmanship. Come over to my shop. Come on.”

You followed her, curious, and not wanting to let something you had a very strong attachment to out of your sight.

First she tried a jeweler’s eye loupe, then she wrinkled her nose and grabbed a flashlight, shining it through the gems and onto the table.

You stared down at it, confused.

“Something tells me your family didn’t give you up willingly,” Magnus said, voice a little tense.

Frida looked at you, as though she couldn’t believe it. “You’re the fairy that was taken away from BTS?”

You just looked back at her. “Um…is that what all of that means?”

“How did you like that album you bought?” She asked, eyes narrowed to slits.

You shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to think about how much you had used it to make yourself cry, because if you did then you knew she was right. And if she was right, then it would be even sadder.

“Weren’t the one that said that they couldn’t have been too sad about losing their fairy to be going on a world tour? Why would I want to be her?”

“No, they talked about it…it’s because they’re trying to find her. Find you. They didn’t say it explicitly because they could get in trouble for that, but they’ve hinted at it and there are tons of reports and pictures of them visiting every fairy sanctuary they could without compromising their performances. It just took a while for it to hit the news for us. Y/n, they’re looking for you. And if this is any proof, I think they love you and you need love. You look like a skeleton with skin.”

Heidrun gently pulled you into her arms. “What changed? You were doing alright and then you were gone and you come back looking like a ghost.”

“They found my tears,” You whispered.

She inhaled sharply, not quite a gasp, and held you tighter. “You can’t stay there.”

“I can’t leave there either. Where would I go? I would just get arrested and brought back to them.”

Frida folded her arms. “Leave it to me. You go back, lay low. Maybe try to appeal to the lady of the house. I’ll have you out of there as soon as I can. In the meantime….”

“I’ve still got a backlog of your diamonds, come get them just in case he asks again.” Your arm was gently pulled toward the currency exchange station.

You took the bag, and the treats most of them packed up for you. If the love of other fairies was enough to sustain you, you never would have been in this mess. But fairies, while kind and caring, didn’t have enough love for other fairies to keep them alive, especially once exposed to the love of a family. Fairies were good, and kind, and helpful, but also emotionally unstable which made it hard to focus enough love into one another without a consistent source of outside love.

It was a miracle your species had survived as long as it had.

Cupcake greeted you, meowing pathetically and hopping into your arms.

You sat down on your bed with him. “Let’s think of a new name for you.”

Eventually you settled on Keyowo, which was close to his current name but meant friend and was just…it was better.

You then set to deep cleaning over the next week, shrinking your things and tucking them into your suitcase to keep them out of sight.

On Tuesday he beat you to tears because you weren’t producing tears fast enough.

The album caught your eye again on the next Friday.

You picked up, tracing the seven on the cover, and then opening it. You pulled out the poster and unfolded it.

They were in white, with feathers floating down and a hole in the floor. They all looked so good.

You touched the one on the far left, wearing the sweater. Slightly cat-like facial features. You felt like you knew what his hands looked like, even though you couldn’t see much of them in the picture. Slightly calloused, bony, but gentle and careful. Caring for everyone.

“Yoongi,” You whispered, choking up. Tearing up.

Your fingers traced over each of them, names a whisper in your mind. A whisper that turned into shouts, memories flooding your mind of each and every one of them. Your mind screaming for them because your throat was too tight to even whisper.

They were your boys.

They had to let you go.

You weren’t supposed to remember them.

They weren’t supposed to try and find you.

The next day you shoved everything into your bag, tucked the cat into your coat, left a note for the missus and headed straight back to the fairy market.

Frida looked surprised when she saw you. “Whoa, what happened? Is this the kitty your were telling me about?”

“They’re gone for the weekend, that means even if I stay nearby they’ll think I’ve had two days to run out on them. I need you to help me get me back to my family.” You teared up. “I need to find them.”

Frida nodded, glancing around and closing her shop. “Come on. You can stay with me.”

Frida’s family consisted of a pair of siblings.

The sister, Alena, was a fairy rights activist in her spare time, which is why Frida had so much freedom, and a huge music fan. She had a whole wall of CD’s and albums and posters. Stacks of magazines featuring musicians.

The brother, Agnar, was quiet, “just an accountant”, and very kind. And very affectionate toward Frida.

Frida was equally affectionate toward him, bringing a fake gag from Alena.

They helped you find an outfit that hid your fairy-ness, and he got you tickets to the concert, all of you hoping that it would get you close enough for them to see you and recognize that you were there. Also, it would help you health-wise to see them in person and the rush from the concert would be overwhelming, but also might revitalize you.

Then Alena forced you to sit in the bathroom with her while she applied a cloth to your face with epsom salts to try and reduce the bruising and swelling on your face. She told you about the fairy abuse responders, and how she would call them in the morning and tell them about your family.

Agnar totally stole your cat.

Frida let you sleep in her fairy-home (because it definitely wasn’t a dollhouse and it was awesome, of course).

Four days later, you were at the concert venue with Alena, taking a seat and soaking in the atmosphere. People were talking all around and some people were chanting the boys’ names. Another group was starting to sing the songs.

You listened nervously, wondering whether it was true or not that they were looking for you. What if they were just making a fuss to get back at the company a bit? What if the media was making things up? It wouldn’t be the first time a story was fabricated for magazines.

Then the concert started and you and Alena were cheering for your boys, but you wondered why you ever thought they’d be able to see you in this mess.

It wasn’t until the second half of the concert that you had hope.

The boys were in more casual outfits, having more fun.

And they were all wearing the jewelry that Namjoon had made from your diamonds.

Jimin was the one who saw you first, though he looked right over you and then seemed to try and pinpoint you again, but was unable to in the crowd. He stood there with a smile plastered on his face, acting as though he was studying each Army’s face when you knew he was searching for you.

So you stood still in the writhing mass that of the crowd, and studied him.

He had lost weight, and if it hadn’t been for the makeup, you bet he’d look fairly wrung-out.

All of them looked like they’d been sick enough to lose weight.

Taehyung came over and practically dragged him away (making it look playful).

But Jimin said something to Jin and Jungkook.

Jungkook was over there as casually as he could, totally looking at the camera and doing ‘fanservice’. But he obviously didn’t spot you.

Jin didn’t either.

But Yoongi did during the very last song and he stopped, staring, then he was crouched, hand over his mouth, just staring in your direction.

You waved, wondering if he actually was staring at you.

He smiled, but it also looked like he wanted to cry. He waved as well, then cautiously moved off, still keeping an eye on you.

You bit your lip, smiling.

Alena squealed and grabbed onto you, and the two of you did your best to fit in with the rest of the crowd.

Both of you lingered as long as you could afterward, her extremely hyped from the whole concert and talking a mile a minute, while you were feeling…exhausted? All of the emotions around you and finally seeing your boys again….

But you had no idea how you were going to get to them, or how they were going to get to you.

Until you saw Sejin, scanning the crowd.

The likelihood of him being on the side of the boys was pretty good.

You tugged on Alena’s arm, pulling her to a stop.

Sejin locked onto you and started moving, coming your way, waiting until the straggling fans that had been around you were gone before telling security to let you through.

You dipped your head to the security guards, then bowed slightly to Sejin. “Hello.”

Sejin smiled. “Hello, y/n.”

You bit your lip. “I remembered.”

He nodded. “I figured. We all figured. They’re waiting. They’re all waiting.”

You were practically vibrating.

“Come on, let’s get you back to them. Your friend can come but she needs to wait in the hallway for…security purposes.”

You nodded and relayed the information to Alena, then both of you were following back to the waiting room.

Sejin stopped by the waiting room. “Go on in.”

You nodded, putting your hand on the doorknob and then turning it and going in.

–

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Masterlist - ot7 Masterpost

Tagging: @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld @subzerobts @forvever-ddaeng @vividwoosan @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @minmeowmeowcuddles @kpopfictrash @castlewolfsbane @scatkpoptrash @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @soulphoenix1618 @kerikaaria @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @reinaxans

If you would like to be tagged: DTLW Taglist (please make sure you can be tagged, I’m no longer hunting people down)

#fairy au #bts fic #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 #ot7 x reader #fairy!reader #namjoon #jin #seokjin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #jhope #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook

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felipeandletizia · 3 years

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Change of pace in the Queen's closet: why Letizia is now betting on small Spanish brands

During the summer the national firms blessed by the 'Letizia effect' have multiplied. Having her approval gives them a global impact, in addition to being able to sell out everything that she puts on. Why have she decided to show her support now?

Small, young, niche, of medium price and of Spanish production. The firms that have appeared in Queen Letizia's looks this summer share attributes that are increasingly valued by the fashion consumer but which, until now, had appeared discreetly and timely in the royal wardrobe. Except for some concessions – such as a dress by the Sevillian guest brand Cherubina that she wore a couple of years ago –, never before had Doña Letizia given such prominence to small Made in Spain brands. Although she has long since left the 'Varelismo' in the background and began to open up to new names in national and international fashion, including large chains such as Uterqüe or Massimo Dutti, the recent and repeated choice of labels such as María de la Orden, Galcon, Dear Prudence, Lola Li, On Atlas or Macarena Shoes marks a turning point. And it comes at a time when it can be interpreted as a message of support for a national fashion industry hit by the pandemic.

This is how Sara Escudero, an expert in analyzing her looks and founder of the successful Instagram account Letizia, de princesa a reina, considers it. "Her style is adapting to current times and circumstances," she explains to S Moda. "Before it was quite usual to see her with the same firms, all led by the Puig group [Carolina Herrera is one of her recurring labels], but now she is betting on Spanish brands to defend our industry. It is also a way of transmitting greater closeness and reaching more people, since the prices of most of the outfits she wears are very competitive ”, adds the analyst. In this way, the result is very positive for both parties: the Queen builds a slightly more earthly wardrobe while supporting a sector that represents 2.8 of the Spanish economy and, brands, many of them unknown to the large public, gain international visibility, increase their prestige and skyrocket their sales, sometimes selling out the specific outfits chosen by Doña Letizia.

This was what happened, for example, with the white blouse and pants set that she wore a few weeks ago during the opening ceremony of the Arco art fair. “It sold out very quickly, that same day. We immediately got to work to replace it and thanks to the fact that the entire production process takes place within a radius of less than 25 km from our studio, it was available again after three days", they detail from On Atlas, a responsible sustainable Galician brand design. The story repeats itself in the rest of the labels blessed by the 'Letizia effect'. The young designer María de la Orden confirms by email that the Capri model, a blue and white striped dress that Her Majesty wore in Mallora, "is practically sold out" and for Galcon, a fashion firm that opened its doors this year , the navy blue skirt and blouse set that Letizia wore has already become their best seller. “We cannot imagine a better showcase for our designs. We must bear in mind that we went on the market very recently and this has put us on the map," says Pilar González Alcón, designer and co-founder of the brand.

The person responsible for all these choices is her stylist, Eva Fernández. "She's the one who acts as a filter between the Queen and the fashion brands. She is in charge of choosing the outfits that she considers that Doña Letizia may like, although then it is the Queen herself who makes the final decision and combines them with the rest of the accessories,” says Escudero. Eva, who was part of the team of stylists of Cosmopolitan magazine before meeting Letizia and starting to work for her, remains in contact with national brands, visits the showrooms and attends the events that communication agencies carry out to present the collections to the press. It is there that she records many of the outfits that the Queen later wears. "It was her stylist through our communication agency who chose the two models of espadrilles that she has worn this summer", confirm from the artisan footwear brand Macarena Shoes. On other occasions, Fernández buys online the designs that she considers appropriate for each occasion. "It was very exciting to receive an order like this," Galcon says.

As an anonymous source who works in a well-known fashion communication agency told S Moda, sometimes it is Eva Fernández who contacts them to request a piece that the Queen may like. Others are the brands who try their luck by sending her their creations. "One day we sent her a leather bag from a national firm and she liked it so much that she put it on. Again, however, we did the same with a clutch from another brand and she returned it to us making it clear that she thought it was beautiful, but she was not going to be able to put it on for protocol reasons. I also know that the Queen does not accept gifts and she always insists on paying,” explained the source.

On certain occasions, brands even design special models for her. This is the case of Lola Li's wrap dress that she wore in 2019 and that she repeated a few days ago. "We were commissioned by her stylist and for us it was an incredible surprise because we are quite a different pattern from the ones she usually wears," they detail from the brand. The appearance of the outfit, they assure, gave them great repercussion and visibility both inside and outside our borders. "Her style followed all over the world and, in our case, her choice marked a before and after, for which we are enormously grateful. When she put it on, we reached saturation levels on the web that we had never reached before. The white model was made exclusively for her so it could not be bought, but it sold very well in other colors," they say.

In the same way that Michelle Obama broke a spear in favor of small American firms demonstrating that the work of a first lady is also to support the national fashion industry, Doña Letizia now begins a new era in her wardrobe that promises to do the same. "She is the best ambassador we have and what's really important about her wearing one of our designs is not the economic repercussion or immediate popularity, but the fact that she endorses our brand and likes our style", affirms María de la Orden. From On Atlas they agree: "She is a very important support. Suddenly the same product, with the same effort, dedication and work, is discovered by many people who until then did not know it".

For Escudero, the landing in the royal closet of brands 100% Made in Spain, far from being anecdotal, has come to stay. “I don't think the labels she usually wears will disappear, such as Carolina Herrera or Hugo Boss, but in day-to-day or less formal events it is very likely that these new national incorporations will help her renew her wardrobe and transmit that support to the Spanish industry”, she points out. She also underlies a message of commitment to the environment, sustainability and crafts. Investigating the philosophy of all these labels, it is easy to conclude that their choice is not accidental or due solely to aesthetic criteria.

María García Alonso-Lamberti, founder of On Atlas, highlights the use of 100% natural, recycled or ecological fabrics of European origin in all her creations. “We avoid the use of polyester and plastic even on buttons, zippers, shoulder pads and trimmings in general. This makes the process much slower and more complicated, but essential in our approach”. Some values that, added to the limited and close production and competitive prices (none of the outfits chosen by the Queen exceeds 200 euros), are similar and extensible to the rest of the brands recently incorporated into her wardrobe. You could even say that they share a taste for timeless Mediterranean-inspired creations. "In Spain we have a lot of national talent, artisans who have worked for several generations and, of course, top quality raw material. Spanish brands still have a lot to say and Doña Letizia makes it clear that we have nothing to envy the fashion of other places", they conclude from Macarena Shoes.

Source

#Queen Letizia #Queen Letizia of Spain #Royal Fashion #News #August 2021

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denkamis · 4 years

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bnha characters as cheesy valentine’s day tropes.

masterlist. | valentine’s day event masterlist.

warnings: none! some swearing, but a lot of fluff for the best boys

characters: shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tamaki amajiki

notes: dedicated to @nekomanagers / @meilbox ,, for being the most supportive human being in my life and undoubtedly the reason i have been posting so much of my work here on this blog. thank you for dealing with all of my shenanigans on and offline, and for picking me up when i felt like i couldn’t. <33 i love you.

shouto todoroki

flowers & chocolate as gifts

he’s one for the classics

he buys you the most gorgeous flowers, ones that are most definitely your favourites mixed in with an arrangement of others that all have particular meanings to them

he also got you expensive truffle chocolates, and also some cheaper ones that you really like to snack on

he’s so thoughtful, it makes your heart melt

literally so sincere as he gives it to you too, has a whole ass speech prepared

shouto came home after work a bit later than you had expected him to. perhaps he got caught up with some hero work, a report that needed to absolutely be filed today or a villain that just wouldn’t let up. either way, when you heard the front door to your shared apartment open, you came running over to greet him. as you turned the corner to see the front door, there stood shouto with the most breathtaking bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in your life. it was a myriad of colours and petals of all kinds standing out against the white of his suit. since when did he have time to change after work to surprise you like this? his usual aloof expression was replaced by a soft smile, one that was reserved for you and only you, “happy valentine’s day, my love.”

he strolled over to you, initiating a kiss that was slow and passionate. it made your heart melt right on the spot, your face erupting in nothing but pure warmth. “shouto, these are beautiful,” you told him as you took a moment to admire the different flowers that went into assembling the collection in his hands. “these ones mean gratitude, and this one here means love. truth is the white coloured one,” he pointed out, guiding you through the meaning of each individual one that made up your special gift.

he snuck a glance at you, your face radiant with how much you were smiling at his thoughtful present. “i also bought you a few of your favourites,” shouto gestured to the vanity you two kept by the door. you turned to see a very expensive box of truffles and a few hershey's kisses paired with more of your favourite corner store chocolates.

“it wasn’t too much, was it?” shouto asked quietly, watching as your jaw dropped at the sight of the truffles. didn’t you hear a rumour once about how those ones literally had gold integrated into their wrappers? “no no, it’s wonderful. this is.. you’re so sweet,” you giggled, tapping his chest as a signal for him to lean down so you could kiss him again. no matter how many times shouto gifted you flowers and chocolate on valentine’s day, you got the same butterflies as you did when he first gave you these heartfelt gifts back in high school.

denki kaminari

fancy dinner date at an expensive restaurant

the entire bakusquad was EGGING HIM ON for something good on valentine’s day okay

he’s been talking big game about some kind of secret plan he had in store for the both of you

he bought you an outfit that not only suited your style, but was elegant and absolutely stunning as it complimented your figure

he pulled out all the stops for you

he wanted to be classy, so he reserved a table for two at one of those rooftop restaurants so you two could dine and enjoy each other’s company

“like grown ups” as denki says

you were sat at a candlelit dinner for two near the edge of one of the most highly rated restaurants in your area. denki had really gone all out, wanting to treat you like the resilient and beautiful partner you were to him with a night that would be unforgettable.

and unforgettable it was.

you two were arguably the loudest ones at the restaurant, laughing and overall just having a good time amongst such high class individuals. denki was making faces at you across the table, making you choke back on the red wine you were having. “and then bakugou slapped that dude! it was crazy, y/n, super fucking wild,” he laughed as you nodded your head in agreement. denki sure knew how to talk, filling in conversations with anecdotes and playful conversation topics sprinkled in with compliments for you. he loved you so damn much, he felt like his electricity quirk was on all the time with you from how much you turned his brain to mush.

he couldn’t get over how gorgeous you looked tonight, with your hair done and your outfit styled to perfection. like, that was all his? and a personality to match? damn! he felt like for once, he was doing something right in his life for you. he wasn’t the dumbass everyone constantly made him out to be. he was trying to be the best for you, and if he could make you happy for the rest of his life, then nothing else mattered to him.

your waiters came back with two platters in hand, with outrageously small portion sizes that could feed maybe a small cat at best. the two of you stared at each other with blank expressions. oh no, this would not be enough to appease your appetites. each of your plates were worth twelve thousand yen, so you really couldn’t get more. on top of that, denki had prepaid everything for tonight anyways. what was worse was that the food tasted like a rat’s ass, yet the two of you dined like kings regardless. well, you pretended to at least. as you were suppressing your disgusted expressions out of kindness to both the waiters and the other guests, denki couldn’t help but stare at you. you were his person, and although the dinner wasn’t exactly all it was cracked up to be, he knew that you dealt with so much more of him than anyone else was willing to. that meant more to him than words could even express.

that, and he immediately bought you apology mcnuggets after you two left. then you two really ate like kings.

eijirou kirishima

long captions to their s/o on instagram

this mfing SAP

he has everything planned, he made like 3 drafts beforehand and even had bakugou proofread it for him

he had all the different pictures he wanted to post too

this is a little unrelated but mans definitely showed up to your house with red roses and a suit

LIKE A GENTLEMAN

your phone buzzed, indicating that you had received a new notification from instagram. after taking your phone off the table and entering in your passcode, you tapped into the instagram app and saw what had caused the tiny ping.

eijikirishima has tagged you in a post!

the first photo was an oldie, but a goodie. it was of you and eijirou at prom together back when you both graduated from ua. he looked absolutely stunning in the darkened suit he had bought, right beside you in a matching colour scheme. though the picture was in fact a meme in itself, as he posed like that one will smith picture gesturing to you with the goofiest smile. you remembered telling him that he was absolutely banned from wearing crocs that night to the dance. it was a good thing you had saved him from that utter atrocity.

the next picture was a photo of you with the puppy you had adopted together. you had named him bean, to which eijirou had expressed was the manliest name he had ever heard for a tiny pomeranian puppy. you were pressing a kiss to bean’s nose, the angle of the photo showing off your loving nature that he had fallen for.

the last was a picture of you sleeping against him during a long train ride for a mission. it wasn’t the most flattering picture eijirou had of you, but it was certainly one of his favourites. you looked so at peace, cuddling against his side with a tiny line of drool running down your chin. he was smiling in the picture, his eyes solely trained on you with the most wholesome look on his face. he was so utterly in love with you, and this picture couldn’t have showcased that look any more clearly.

the caption read as follows:

Hey bros! It’s Valentine’s Day, which means that it is my duty to post about the most amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of dating for about five years now! Y/N, we’ve been through so much together over the years, we’ve had ups and downs and everything else in between but I’ve been fortunate enough to remain standing here as the person you can confide in, much like you are that person to me. You’re my rock. I continue to find so much more to love about you every single day. I hope I get to spend the rest of my days with you, my best friend, my partner throughout everything. I love you so so much, pebble. I hope we get to stay just like this forever, and grow as we go along.

needless to say, many happy tears were shed that day.

tamaki amajiki

love letters in their shoe locker

for all the days leading up to valentine’s, tamaki put a different letter in your locker

mirio hyped him up asf to even get him to write what he was feeling towards you

and he was still nervous as hell and had mirio stand guard so that you didn’t accidentally walk in on him shoving weird notes in your locker

but unfortunately for tamaki, mirio isn’t a very good watchman

and so you caught him in the act, right on valentine’s day ironically

it was the end of a long, rather eventful day at school. you had gotten a few confessions from some other students, to which you turned down due to someone else being on your mind. for the past few days, you had begun collecting small letters in your shoe locker. the notes were short, handwritten with small doodles and even a recipe or two for you to try. it seemed like this person was reaching out to you to express their true feelings, their intimate and romantic feelings, towards you. and you couldn’t help but feel the same towards them, whoever they were. this admirer unveiled small details about themselves to you, yet hadn’t revealed enough for you to piece together a name. so here you were, sprinting down the hallway as soon as the bell went to try and catch a glimpse of this mystery individual who had been leaving you such sweet writings for you to cherish.

you rounded the final corner and there you saw him. before that happened however, you first you ran into your classmate and good friend mirio, who let out a tiny “oof” at the sudden contact. you apologized to him in a rush, explaining in a rushed tone that you needed to go meet someone. he nodded and waved to you before realizing that he had one job and tamaki was definitely going to kill him later.

only slightly out of breath, you saw a mess of indigo hair and shaky hands sliding your latest note into your shoe locker. as he turned to leave, his face drained of colour at the sight of you. he slouched further, retreating into himself. he looked around nervously for an excuse as to what the hell he was doing shoving letters into your locker. though, you beat him to speaking first.

“it’s you.”

tamaki’s throat felt scratchy and swollen, his entire form shaking as you slowly, calmly made your way towards him. “i- i can explain, y/n,” tamaki barely murmured, his nerves beginning to get the best of him yet again. “your words, they were so intimate. you were so well spoken on paper, i just had to meet you in person,” you confessed to him with a patient smile on your face. you stood a relatively safe distance away, not wanting to overwhelm him by your presence. you had just caught him in such a compromising act, after all.

“i read all your letters,” you went on, “every night before bed, i read them, tamaki. i even tried out the udon recipe you gave me and it was the best udon i had ever had. everything you said in your letters, the confessions and the other, more personal stuff… is that all true?”

tamaki, though he felt frozen beneath your warm gaze, had the courage to nod his head. “i didn’t know how else to tell you,” he admitted, hands now covering his face in shame. suddenly, gentle fingers grasped at his shaky ones as you uncovered his face to the light that was you. “i like you too,” you said finally. it felt like a chord had snapped inside of tamaki’s mind and all his feelings came crashing down in a deep crescendo of emotions all for you. it was all that he had ever wanted from you: a response.

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki x reader #denkamis.scenarios

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matbarzyy · 4 years

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Must Have Been The Wind [A.B.]

A/N: Soooo my requests are closed but I still get some and an anon sent me a good one that stuck in my brain and I ended up actually writing it anyway lol. I’ll link the post here once I’m not too tired to look for it again. Anyway, this is based off a song by Alec Benjamin, enjoy.

Word count: 2755

Warnings: Abusive boyfriend

“What the hell?” Anthony mumbled to himself and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

The loud noise that had woken him up echoed through the building again. It was glass shattering. Whatever was going on, it was happening in the apartment above his. The digital clock on his bedside table shone dark red numbers that read 3:05, and he groaned as he pushed the covers off his body and sat up.

At first, Anthony thought someone might have dropped glasses or plates, but the sound was much louder. It wasn’t an object being dropped, it was something being thrown. Knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep immediately, Anthony got up and yawned on his way to the kitchen. A dim light was still on, he had forgotten to turn it off before going to bed, but now he was thankful he could see the layout of his unfamiliar apartment.

He was renting the place even though he had just bought a brand new apartment that was at least twice as big. The day he sold his old place, a water leak and gas problem arose in his new building. For a moment, Anthony had thought he was cursed, but with some help he managed to find this place to rent and he didn’t even have to spend a night in a hotel.

It was a temporary solution, so he was okay with having only two bedrooms and a rather small kitchen. It wasn’t like he’d have his family coming over any time soon. Maybe the neighbours were a little crazy breaking stuff at ungodly hours, but with a glass of water and ear plugs Anthony would get right back to sleep.

He stopped dead in his tracks when the sound of glass shattering was replaced by a cry. His glass got abandoned on the kitchen counter while he tiptoed to his front door, trying to catch any other noise.

The voices turned clearer as the yelling grew louder, it wasn’t enough for Anthony to understand what they were saying, but he could tell there was a girl crying while arguing with a man. There was no way he could go back to bed now. What was he supposed to do?

Should he try to go up there? Was calling the police a better idea?

His dilemma ended when a door slammed upstairs. Quickly, Anthony glued his eye to the peephole to see anyone that might walk past his door. This cursed building didn’t have an elevator, so if someone was leaving he’d see them. The light in the corridor was off, but with the moon shining bright outside it wasn’t completely dark.

As the stomping of feet got closer he caught the silhouette of a man heading out. A minute later, the sound had faded and the entrance door had slammed shut with the noise Anthony was getting accustomed to.

He stepped back and grabbed a hoodie from his bedroom, pulling it over his head to hide his bare chest. Dressed in a little more than just sweatpants, he hurried to find shoes, grabbed his keys, and slipped out of his apartment.

When he got to the second floor the faint sound of a girl crying directed him to the right door. He lifted his hand to knock but hesitated for a second. What if he got the wrong place and bothered someone at three in the morning?

Deciding that someone’s safety was more important than getting in trouble with his neighbours, Anthony quickly shook his head and gave the door a couple of loud knocks. He heard shuffling on the other side, followed by footsteps, and eventually a slight creak.

“Can I help you?” The girl opened the door just a crack.

She had a sweater zipped up all the way to her chin, and her eyes were a little swollen, but in the darkness it was hard to tell she was crying for sure. Her voice seemed steady enough as far as Anthony could tell from that short sentence.

“Hi, sorry, um I know it’s super late,” he shuffled from one foot to the other nervously. If only he had thought about what to say before knocking. “I’m Anthony, I live right downstairs, I just heard some noise and stuff… I wanted to make sure everything’s okay?”

“Uh, yeah? I didn’t hear a thing, sorry,” the girl pulled the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her hands.

“Could have sworn it came from up here,” he played dumb to insist a little more, but she was quick to shut him down.

“Must have been the wind or something,” she shrugged. “Thanks, I guess, but uh, I should go,”

“Right, yeah, sorry I bothered you,” he murmured and stepped back before she quietly closed the door.

Anthony didn’t get a minute of sleep that night. Mat chirped him for his slow reactions when he practiced in the morning, but he had bigger things to worry about. Was that girl really okay? Or did she just tell him lies so that he wouldn’t intrude?

None of it sat right with him, but he was limited in his options, so he promised himself he’d keep an eye out for her as much as he could.

A week passed before anything happened again.

Anthony was on his way home from a game, still dressed in his game day suit and ready to crash into his bed. Even the adrenalin of the win couldn’t keep him up for much longer. He was half asleep as he walked up to the building, his keys out to get through the main entrance. Now that he had cooled off, his legs ached and he almost groaned at the thought of the stairs.

“Two more weeks,” he muttered to himself.

He was about to continue complaining out loud to himself when he spotted her. If he had paid attention he would have noticed the couple arguing way earlier. The man had a tight grip on her forearm, and he didn’t even notice the way her eyes flickered over to Anthony as he continued speaking.

“I told you not to fucking-”

“Everything okay?” Anthony spoke up loudly enough to startle the man.

“Mind your fucking business.” He turned around, but the hockey player was taller and obviously stronger, so he didn’t even look at him.

Instead, he stared at his upstairs neighbour and waited for her to answer.

“Fine,” she rubbed her forearm, soothing the red skin. He nodded in response but didn’t make a move, his bag still hanging over his shoulder.

“We’re not done.” The other man grumbled when he saw Anthony had no intention of walking up to his apartment until they moved too.

He stomped out, the noise matching what had resonated in the corridor the first night Anthony heard them fight.

“So, am I at least going to get your name?” He walked towards the stairs with her, letting her walk up first.

“Carrie,” she told him, taking the stairs two at a time. Anthony cursed in his head as he kept up with her, his legs burning from all the skating and a nasty fall.

“Well Carrie, if you ever need anything, I live right here, okay?” He motioned towards his door and she nodded.

“Thanks,” she glanced down at the floor as she said it, not even waiting for his reply before dashing for the stairs and heading back to her own place.

The next morning was nice for Anthony. The weather was beautiful, he didn’t have practice, and all he had to do was go for a walk and get himself a nice coffee to enjoy his day off. The park near his building was a little crowded, it was a Saturday after all, families walked with kids running back and forth, people walked their dogs, others jogged.

The little kiosk at one of the intersections didn’t look like much, but Anthony had found out the day he had to move here that their coffee was some of the best in the city.

Carrie seemed to know that too, because he spotted her a few feet away on one of the benches. She was alone, taking in the way the sun shone through branches and onto the grass.

“Can I sit?” Anthony asked, and she looked up at him.

“Sure,” She slid over to make space on the bench.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he began while racking his brain for the right thing to say. “And I don’t need to know whatever it was that happened when I heard that noise, or what was going on last night, but if you ever need absolutely anything, my door’s always open for you.”

“It’s fine I swear, he’s not as bad as it seems,” Carrie dismissed him and he scoffed.

“Well not as bad doesn’t mean ‘not bad’ so even if you just need a friend or whatever, I’m around,” he reiterated to make sure she wouldn’t hesitate if she was ever ready to ask for help.

“Thanks, Anthony,” she felt the corner of her lips itch to curl up while he leaned back.

“Not running away today?” He took in the people moving in front of them, resting his paper cup on his thigh.

“Not today,” Carrie smiled and took another sip of her coffee.

Only one more week before Anthony could move out.

Some of his things were still packed, a few boxes were stored in his garage in his new building, others were stacked in his spare bedroom and the rest would have to be repacked this weekend for him to finally vacate this apartment. He was excited to settle into his new place, he was somehow enjoying the whole decorating thing.

The only thing that bothered him was leaving Carrie. What was he supposed to do, leave her there and never come back? He couldn’t just turn his back with what he knew. She was the only thing on his mind day and night. Anthony couldn’t remember his dreams in the morning, but he was often convinced they had been about her.

The one thing that definitely wasn’t a dream was the loud knock on his door that night. 4:32am. It had to be Carrie.

Anthony jumped to his feet with a groan and rushed out of his bedroom. “Fuck,” he cursed as he slammed his shoulder into the door frame, not slowing down for a second until he reached the front door.

He threw it open and Carrie stumbled in, shaking and sniffling. Her arms were wrapped around herself and she hurried to make sure the door was closed.

“What happened?” Anthony’s eyes widened when he took in her panicked state. She barely looked up at him and cried harder, so he realised now wasn’t the time for questions. “Hey, hey come here,” he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re safe, it’s okay, you’re safe here.”

Carried leaned against his chest, biting her lip and shaking with quiet sobs. Her whole body was trembling, Anthony was the only reason she was standing, so he slowly walked over to the couch with her in his arms and sat down. He had managed to hit a light switch on his way to make a warm light illuminate the living room.

“Sorry, it’s so late,” she eventually whispered, but he pulled away and shook his head.

“Don’t apo-” Anthony started but cut himself off when he got a good look at her face. “What happened?” His tone was nowhere near soft this time, his jaw was clenched and he was ready to run up the stairs to break her boyfriend’s face.

A purple bruise was blooming on her cheekbone, and the skin had split so a little bit of blood seeped out of the wound.

“I-” Carrie tried to talk, but another sob shook her chest and she looked down instead, hiding herself.

“Carrie…” he reached out for her hands. “Did he do this?”

“Yes,” her answer was barely above a murmur, and he took a deep breath to calm down.

“Let me take a look,” he cupped the uninjured side of her face and guided her to tilt her head until the light hit the forming bruise on her cheekbone. “I’ll find something to put on that, okay?” Anthony dropped his hands and she avoided his eyes.

He found everything he’d need in his bathroom pretty easily. He was used to being injured, so he came back to the living room with a cream for the bruise and an ice pack.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” He said as he sat next to her and pushed a little bit of the product out on the tip of his fingers.

Careful not to press too hard, Anthony rubbed it over the bruise and made sure it was mostly absorbed before holding the ice pack to her face. It wouldn’t really ease the pain but it would at least reduce the swelling.

“I got it,” Carrie took it from him to keep it to her cheek.

“Okay, you need anything else?” He let her gather her knees up to her chest, resisting the urge to pull her into a hug again. He wished he knew how to comfort her, but she clearly needed her space.

“I’m okay, thank you,” she shook her head no and focused on slowing her breathing. It was hard with the mess in her head after everything that happened. She felt weak and pathetic, she had never been so vulnerable in front of someone, and maybe it was time she opened up but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.

“Is he still upstairs?” Anthony probed, trying to figure out what to do, at least for the immediate future.

“Probably,” Carrie shrugged, wiping tears out of her eyes.

“You can stay the night, I’ve got a spare bedroom.” He offered, written worry all over his face when she glanced up at him.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you,” she turned him down, but he wouldn’t let her leave when she wouldn’t be safe.

“Stop that,” he nudged her foot gently. “I’m not going to let you go back up there, just stay. Do you want tea? Chamomile is good for sleep,”

“Um, yeah, please,” Carrie gave in with a sigh. There was no point in fighting him, and deep down she knew he was right. Now that she had woken him she couldn’t leave and just let him worry.

“Be right back,” He put a hand on her knee as he got up and went to boil some water.

When he came back with both steaming mugs, Carrie had helped herself to the tissues on his coffee table to dry her tears and it looked like she had calmed down a little.

“Careful it’s really hot,” Anthony set the mug down in front of her.

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence after that. Anthony was done pushing, she was next to him and he was keeping her safe, he didn’t need more than that. The night had been traumatic enough for Carrie, so he didn’t want to add to it.

Small sips of burning liquid eventually turned to larger gulps of warm tea until both mugs sat empty on the table. Carrie had stopped shaking, and the heat of her drink had helped her warm up. The ice pack was mostly melted against her cheek now, but it was still cool and her cheek was burning underneath it.

“Wanna go to bed?” Anthony eventually whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. She stopped staring at the black screen of the TV to turn to him, nodding slightly.

The bed in the guest room was made, and the sheets still smelled like fresh laundry. Anthony looked into the mostly empty closet for a few things, and while Carrie slid under the covers he brought an extra blanket to lay on top of it.

She settled quietly, curled for extra warmth while the melted ice pack sat on the nightstand. Anthony took it as his cue to leave, but he stopped once he reached the door.

“Carrie?” He turned to look at her, a hand on the door knob.

“Yeah?” She wondered what else he was going to say, and her heart warmed when she heard his words spoken with unwavering certainty.

“I don’t care what I have to do, but I’m not going to let that happen again.”

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

Text

Ep. 192 Spoilers: Jon’s thoughts on the Panopticon, Rosie’s statement, and Jonah Magnus.

Martin says goodbye.

Georgie does not, and neither does Jon. She thinks carefully about the words she speaks, now that she knows their power. Jon appreciates this, here at the end.

There are Archivists (colleagues) in their path, blocking their way. They’re you, they’re what you might become - but they aren’t, because Jon’s managed to do what none of them could. He is the Archive and they are shadows and dust, forever doomed to guard the tower and never truly know the favor of their God. And they will heed his call.

Ceaseless Watcher, see your servants approach. Herald their arrival and bid them welcome into our your sanctum.

They move. Jon and Martin start their climb.

It’s dizzying, their ascent. Jon can feel the power thrumming heavily in his veins as they grow closer. The tunnels, while not so cut off as Upton House, were so numbing. He felt pitiful, mundane, sapped of all energy. And this is his world, isn’t it? He should never have to feel that way. Jon feels guilty for this thought, of course. He’s felt guilty all his life, that will never change. But now he feels powerful, and that is altogether different.

He answers the call, accepts the gentle but insistent tugging. It speeds his steps and devours his fear and it feels so terribly good. There’s a voice but it’s distorted by a familiar static; if he focuses hard Jon thinks he hears Elias’s Jonah’s voice, but he can’t be too sure. It’s all the same now.

Martin calls to him, tells him to slow down. He tempers his excitement, tries to keep it light. Corrects his Shakespeare. He feels guilty for enjoying this, despite his terror. Martin’s his reason. Martin keeps him grounded. Martin’s right behind him- no he isn’t. Jon pauses.

The door that bars them from Elias’s office is the same as it always was, but on a nightmare scale. His fingers itch to reach out, he’s so close, he wants to see but then- of course.

Rosie.

She’s always barred his way. From his time as a researcher, to his promotion as Head Archivist and even now, trapped in a hell of her own making. He regards her with a strange mix of pleasure and pity; she doesn’t deserve this, none of them do. But the familiarity soothes him.

They need an appointment. Martin scoffs, tries to get through to her. Jon insists. She buzzes Jonah with some reluctance, and where Jon expects to hear the crisp, clear voice he knows so well, there is nothing but static.

But Rosie understands this static. Is Jonah even speaking to her? Or is she hearing an echo of times past, an eternal chorus of ‘Send him right in’ or ‘We’ll need to reschedule.’ It would be fitting.

She refuses them once again. Jon relents, drags Martin away. The Eye has a gift for him, one last statement before he sees what could be the face of his God made visible. He never thought much of Rosie, never really knew her.

But now he will.

Jon sees her- a woman fast approaching middle age with nothing but the ruins of a failed marriage and a need to start over guiding her hand. Elias, young but so very old, staring down with cold grey eyes.

So why do you want this job, Ms. Zampano?

How strange. Even after all this time, Jon never knew her last name.

She needs money, she needs something to do, she instead says she’s curious and tells herself it’s a lie but is it, really? She’s always had a wild imagination. Her mind goes to the strangest of places and yet she does nothing, nothing about it.

Jon watches as he enters the picture. So young, he thinks, but then again it had only been two years ago, hadn’t it?

The things they said about him in the break room.

He knew of it peripherally, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Snickers when he passed by a room of former colleagues in an ill-fitting suit, hair gelled within an inch of its life. He remembers he bought new shoes when he got the promotion. They didn’t match any of his clothes. Everyone knew what a fool he was. Once, an email went around, forwarded to him by accident (or perhaps not). The first few replies left a sour taste in his mouth, and he deleted it before finishing. He buried his head in the sand, in more ways than one.

The sort of things that passed across Mr. Bouchard’s desk about him.

Jon wonders how many complaints Elias ignored. He only concerned himself with the most important ones, god forbid they anger the donors. But now he sees the stack filed away in a folder that will never be opened. In a strange, perverse sort of way, Elias was the only one on his side. The only one who wanted him. How sad.

Insecure, aggressive, desperate to be taken seriously.

I don’t want to hear this- but he does and he speaks it for his God to hear and perhaps Martin, only steps away. It sounds like a confession Jon doesn’t mean to make. He knows how pathetic he was, he can’t change it or take it back. Just a bark with no bite, Martin told him in those precious few weeks at the cottage.

He watches as Sasha- that’s Sasha, the real Sasha, scared but brave and angry as she rushed down the corridor. That’s her voice, not clouded by the static of a tape but just in the other room, if only Rosie would open the goddamn door he could finally see her-

But the Eye gives, and the Eye takes away. This is Rosie’s story; not his, not Sasha’s. The worms come, Sasha is gone, Daisy drags him past Rosie and he feels her pang of sympathy more than he sees it; Rosie keeps her face impassive, even when paralyzed with terror. Melanie and Tim- Tim, angry and whole- pass by for but a moment, and Rosie watches, waits, perfect servant of the Eye that she is, perfect backup plan. Nosy Rosie.

Peter Lukas is here, smiling his empty smile but now Peter Lukas is dead, Jon made sure of that. He thinks he understands what Daisy felt; the call of the blood, the satisfaction behind a finished hunt. The thrill of his first kill soon replaced with fear and loathing and oh god, what have I done?

And now here they are. Rosie sits and waits for guests that never come until they do, now there’s two monsters on her doorstep side by unholy side. But Rosie knows monsters well.

Mr. Sims, was it?

Yes, yes! That’s his name. Sometimes he’s shocked to find he still has one. Martin’s Jon is not the same. Sims- that was his father’s name. His mother’s name. His grandmother’s. He can’t put a face to any of them anymore but he wants to hold on to that remnant of his childhood, lonely and sad as it was. His name is Jonathan Sims, and he’s here to see Jonah Magnus.

Jonah Magnus sees. Jonah Magnus can do nothing but see now, forever tangled in his own web of fear made manifest again and again and again, a perpetual cycle, an exquisite agony. It’s a sickness, like Jordan Kennedy said, but it’s a sickness that Jon would weep to have if only for a moment. Jonah got what he wanted, but for all of his Sight he could never know what the outcome of that desire would be. He’s one with the eye now.

He’s won.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068671

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #rosie zampano #elias bouchard #jonah magnus #jonmartin #tma spoilers #mag ep 192 spoilers

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imagineredwood · 4 years

Text

“You’re playing with fire, mi vida.”

Request: Imagine where Miguel and his wife are at a gala or some event and they sneak out to have a quickie

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x reader

Warnings: Sexual content, what might be perceived as mild degradation by some, exhibitionism, unprotected sex

Word count: 2.1K

***I know he’s wearing a black suit in the story so just used your imagination lol ***

“You look stunning.”

You smiled and twirled in your gown, the fabric glittering as it caught the light. Miguel smirked from where he was standing at by the front door. He held his hand out to you, taking yours softly and pulling you close to him. He held you as if you were dancing but did not move, only placed his lips at your ear so Nestor and the other guard did not hear.

“You look so good I might just stay here and keep you all to myself.”

Patting his chest, you looked at him through sultry eyes, your eye makeup adding an edge to your gaze.

“I’ll be all yours as soon as we get home, but we have to get going.”

Miguel huffed, not even really interested in this event if he was being honest. It was just an overcrowded, overly extravagant gala for the rich to fake smiles and try to one up each other. Miguel wasn’t into it, but he did need to show his face for a little while. He knew the night would be full of shaking hands with those who wanted to get closer to him, or side eyes from those who wanted to avoid him like the plague. Either way, he found it to be a waste of his time, though he knew it would do wonders for his public reception. That was truly the only reason he was going, and so he had decided to have you come with him. Having someone he knew, trusted, and loved to help pass the time. Now though, seeing your shape in that crimson red and how perfect you looked, he was having his doubts.

You did not entertain it and simply grabbed his hand, locking eyes with Nestor and offering a smile.

“We’re ready, Nes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Miguel…”

You warned your husband in a low voice, but he ignored you, his hand still in your lap as his fingers traced the exposed skin of your thigh through the slit in your dress. His eyes were locked on your leg and when he finally looked up at you, there was hunger in his eyes.

“I’m really regretting you walk out of the house in that.”

Your eyes sparkled and the idea to milk his disadvantage kicked in. Glancing forward at Nestor driving, you found his eyes on the road, not interested in what was happening in the back seat. Looking back at Miguel you tilted your head, eyes mischievous.

“Yeah? What would you have done if we stayed?”

Miguel glanced at Nestor as well before leaning closer to you and whispering huskily.

“I would’ve hiked that gown up on your hips and fucked you right on the kitchen counter.”

“Hmm.”

You blinked softly before looking down your own leg.

“With my shoes on, or off?”

You raised your foot, tilting it and showing off the sharp heel that you were wearing, knowing that was one of his weaknesses. The fact that it exposed more of your thigh was only a coincidence. Miguel’s eyes stayed on your foot for a few moments more before they scaled up your leg, stopping at the junction of where your thigh met your hip, covered by the satin of your gown. The very same crease that he had kissed and nibbled at last night. He looked at you again before shaking his head once, a threat in his words.

“You’re playing with fire, mi vida.”

With a pout of your lip, your feigned innocence.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Leaning into him, your hand was on his lap then, resting high on his thigh a mere inch or two from the growing bulge on the front of his slacks. You traced a perfectly manicured nail along the edge, so close yet not close enough to touch where he was throbbing.

“You’ll know what I mean when I bend you over the granite.”

His smile was condescending, and you were about to fire back when the car stopped. Turning to look out the window, you looked at the large vintage mansion, more windows on one single building than you had seen in a long time. Miguel exited the car on his side before coming around to open the door for you. Hand out, he helped you exit, watching as you smoothed your hands over your gown. Miguel’s eyes followed the motion and your wink told him that tonight was not going to be an easy night.

With the car door closed behind you, Miguel offered you his arm. Lacing his with yours, you held your clutch and began walking up the stairs with him. He walked slow, making sure you were steady and safe. With you now in the building, you looked around, a plethora of other suits and gowns bustling around, the sounds all blending and creating a hum. Your eyes moved around, taking in the crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, illuminating the expensive paintings that decorated the cream-colored walls.

“Mr. Galindo!”

And so it began, people coming up to shake his hand and introduce themselves. From investors to politicians and small-town officials, people were seeking his attention and throwing compliments your way. You listened and showed respect, though Miguel often seemed to be wearing a smile so fake it made you chuckle at times. In a quick moment of peace with no one crowding the two of you, you looked to your husband to find him looking annoyed. So you decided to restart your game from earlier, if only to put him in a better mood.

Leaning closer to him, you pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek getting his attention.

“Can you guess which panties I’m wearing tonight?”

The cartel leader turned his attention to you and quickly there was a genuine smile replacing the fake one.

“None, I’m hoping.”

A playful wag of your finger told him he was wrong.

“Incorrect. Guess again.”

“Hmm,”

Miguel brought his hand up to his chin, making a show of being pensive.

“The black lace with red trim?”

“Wrong again. I’ll tell you what; I’m gonna go grab a drink while you try to figure it out.”

You pressed another kiss to his cheek before pulling away from him and sashaying toward the bar. His eyes were on your ass then and he cursed under his breath as he stared at the shape that was slightly visible through the satin of your gown.

You were wearing the cheap black thong that you had bought that had a small silver heart at the junction that rested right on the slope of your ass.

Miguel shook his head then, never having guessed that you were wearing that pair. Here you were at arguably the most important gala of the year with the richest people in the area, sipping champagne from crystal flutes and in a designer gown, yet wearing the skimpiest panties you owned that could be considered trashy in comparison. The thought alone made him hard, his mind starting to wander. He watched you like a hawk, eyes following your every move as you grabbed a new flute and started to head back to him.

Just by the look on his face, you knew he had recognized what pair you were wearing and you couldn’t keep the smile off your lips as you closed in on him, toe to toe.

“Figured it out?”

Miguel smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist as he faced you.

“Leave it to you to pick the sluttiest panties you own.”

With a wide grin, you placed one hand on his chest, leaning into him.

“Would you have preferred I hadn’t worn any, Mr. Galindo?”

The use of such a formal name coming from you paired with the wickedness in your eyes and the low rumble of your voice had him grabbing your wrist and dragging you with him. Your heart sped up as you tried to keep up with him, giggling as you weaved through people until you were at the back of the lobby. Miguel pushed you in front of him then, speaking to the staff member who was beside the large glass door that lead out to the back garden.

“She’s not feeling well, I’m going to take her out for some fresh air.”

The man nodded quickly and opened the door for the two of you, letting you walk through before closing it behind you. Miguel continued walking with you until he made it to the edge of the garden, a large wall blocking both of you from view. He did not waste any time then, taking the glass and clutch from your hands and placing them down before grabbing your dress and hiking it up, a gasp leaving you.

“Miguel!”

“Hold it.”

You hesitated then listened and grabbed the hem of the dress yourself, exposing your panties to Miguel as you stood there. Reaching forward, he ran his knuckle along the front of your panties softly with a smirk, that condescending tone back.

“You thought all that teasing was going to do what exactly? Work me up so that I would fuck you nice and hard once we got home?”

You paused before nodding.

“Well…yeah.”

“Right.”

Miguel looked back at your panties and then slipped his fingers into the flimsy waistband, yanking and tearing them from your body before locking his eyes on yours.

“Why wait until we get home? I’ll just fuck you right here.”

You were shocked by his words, neither of you having ever shown an interest in exhibitionism. The thought was new, foreign, and beyond arousing. Standing there with your dress up and no panties you turned around and bent forward, your gown staying on your hips as you pushed your ass out. Looking back at Miguel over your shoulder you wiggled your bare ass at him.

“Well come on then.”

Miguel did not answer you, only reached for his belt buckle to undo it and his zipper. Soon enough his cock was out, his black suit still perfectly in place. He grabbed onto himself and then ran the tip through your lips, chuckling at how wet you already were.

“If only those people in there knew how filthy Mrs. Galindo is.”

He slid into you then, shuddering at the tight warmth. You moaned as you tried to adjust, an edge to your voice when you spoke again.

“Even if they did, what could they say? What would they dare to say?”

Your words brought a grin to Miguel’s face and he slid all the way into you, his back against your chest as he reached forward and lovingly turned your face to look at him.

“They wouldn’t dare to say anything because they know what would happen if they disrespect my perfect wife.”

His words had you clenching around him and he groaned as he released your face and threw his head back.

“Fuck you feel good.”

You were pushing back on him now, thankful that he had gone with a black suit instead of his white one. There was no more talking after that, only the sound of your moans and his grunting as he pounded into you from behind, your hands on the stone wall supporting yourself. It did not take long for you both to come close to the edge, Miguel’s skillful fingers working on your clit. He spilled within you with a stifled hiss, both of you staying still for a minute while you caught your breath. Pulling out of you, he helped you shimmy your gown back down your hips, smoothing the fabric that was now slightly wrinkled. Miguel bent down and picked up the flimsy thong, twirling it around his finger with a scoff before tucking it away in his pocket.

“All the Italian lingerie I have for you at home and you want to wear this little ten-dollar scrap.”

Leaning toward him to press your lips against his, you spoke between kisses.

“Gotta…keep…you…on your…toes.”

He smiled at that and nodded, softly stroking your chin.

“That you do, querida.”

Adjusting his suit one final time, he took your hand in his and began walking with you back into the mansion, the stickiness between your legs unable to be ignored. You were looking forward to going home now and getting a nice warm bath. Now in the lobby once again, you started to walk to the exit when Miguel tugged you.

“Where are you going?”

You paused, thinking it was obvious that you would both be returning home.

“…I thought we were leaving.”

And there was that evil smile once again as Miguel shook his head.

“We still have plenty of people to talk to before the night is over.”

General taglist @piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @ifoundmyhappythought @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @bisexual-space-slut

#miguel x reader #miguel galindo #galindo cartel #Mayans MC #mayans imagine #miguel galindo imagine #imagines

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sinisterlyhan · 4 years

Text

03. jisung ; hyunsung / 8705 words

incubus!hyunsung, oral (m receiving), female reader, unprotected sex, choking kink, a mild hint of jealousy, a little fluff at the end

tw: slight mention of force

parts: 01 ; 02 ; 03

your hands fell onto your lap after another failed attempt at calling his name, a shy yet frustrated groan sounding from your throat as you covered your eyes with the heels of your palms.

you were seated right in the middle of a brand new sheet, one you bought from the local department store for the personal use of summoning demons. the white sheet has been painted on with a dark red glyph for almost twenty minutes now, and you still have yet to call up the boys you've been dying to meet; each time you chanted the spell, you stop just when you were supposed to speak their name.

a rush of embarrassment kept glowing over you for some reason. it seemed you have yet to get over how you managed to be turned into a damn filthy doll overnight, much like how your last encounter with jisung and hyunjin, which was already weeks ago, still lingered in the front lines of your head almost every waking second.

they have really fucked themselves into your head, everything from their intense glowy eyes to the scratch of their nails haunted your days and nights. and everything reminded you of them, starting with the unfading hickey jisung sucked onto your skin to the empty clench of your cunt that just constantly felt so overwhelming.

you haven’t been touched, kissed, nor filled up to the brim in weeks. your fingers and the vibrator you secretly got off online were not good enough to replace the blissful skin-to-skin sensation you knew those two demons would be more than capable of giving you.

and it was getting so bad, your neediness growing with each sunrise, to a point where just the mere thought of their faces was enough to make your head hazy with lust and longing.

but even then, you kept pushing back summoning them again for some reason. a very broken part of your heart kept forgetting how tightly jisung has cuddled your warm body to him, forgetting how gentle hyunjin had kissed your swollen lips and rubbing your sore skin, forgetting how kindly they have treated you after they practically fucked you into oblivion.

your mind kept wandering off to how they would react to you summoning them again, and somehow you developed an unreasonable fear of having your terrible assumption—that they wouldn’t want to see you again—becoming a reality.

it was a problem of your lack of self-worth; if the boys were here, they would have the scent of your insecurities sniffed out in seconds, and they would probably hate that.

“huh.” you exhaled slowly, trying to coax yourself into submission by thinking about the alternative, by remembering how good they have made you feel the night you first met them. you could have that right at your fingertips if you could just try. one of them even left you a note! “damn it, why is this so hard? freaking stupid, stupid han jisung!”

in the middle of your mildly insulting chant, where you repeatedly called hyunjin and jisung stupid when the truly stupid one in the room was you, the glyph you were seated on had glowed a bright, brilliant shade of blood red for a brief second before a shadowy substance appeared at the corner of your room. jisung soon morphed into shape, the black substance trickling off his shoulders into nothingness.

he took a look around your room. nothing has changed since the last time he has been in it; the mini-trinkets on your desk were still arranged on the same spot, your mattress was draped over with the same cover he fucked you on last time, and the basket of freshly cleaned, unfolded laundry stained of your that honey-sweet scent of your naked body.

jisung let him bask in your warm and homey room, his gaze finally making their way away from the furniture and onto you. he softened, his back relaxing and his eyes sparking a faint shade of red at the sight of you kneeling with your hands to your eyes.

supposed the only thing that changed was him; he came back to your room with more longing and more anticipation than he did last time. and if he has only able to enjoy half of his sexual encounters with other people before, he definitely hasn’t been able to enjoy any of them after he got a chance to lay with you.

“what are you doing?”

his low and tender voice snapped you out of your trance, and you yelped when you found him to be only inched away from your face after opening your eyes. his eyes were a golden shade of brown, like sunlight filtered through the gaps of trees, and looking into them made you dizzy.

“i… uhh…”

you hadn’t gotten a chance to speak when jisung leaned in to press his lips against yours. he went slow, he was thorough in recalling the shape of your mouth, none at all like the first time he kissed you. and you closed your eyes, your head leaning back when he pushed forward to deepen the kiss, wanting to taste more of you.

ahh, how jisung has missed you. your softness and your innocence, your lips and your tightness. he missed you much more than he wanted to miss you. it was like you infiltrated his head, like you just barged in without knocking or taking your shoes off, infuriatingly occupying his brain when all he wanted to do was to keep his cool and wait for you.

but it has been weeks since you last called. the desire to touch you burned inside him in ways he could not fathom.

this wasn’t supposed to happen to him; he wasn’t supposed to think about you when he has his cock stuffed inside somebody else, he wasn’t supposed to be so reluctant to chase his high in a stranger’s eyes, he wasn’t supposed to feel so anxious thinking that maybe you neglected him and called up hyunjin instead.

how was he supposed to stop himself when you finally appeared before him again? and without hyunjin’s presence as well? this felt like a miracle, a gift sent to him by god, a damn utopia.

leaning further into you, your back soon hit the thin white sheet that winkled when you both moved. you moved your legs, separating them so jisung could have access to the middle where he could comfortably lay his body on top of yours. and he had your hands pinned to the side of your head, fingers pressing onto your palm and his hands pressured against your wrists.

“ji–jisun–jisung–“

he kept kissing you, you couldn’t even find breaks in between to mumble into his mouth. his lips just kept moving against yours, devouring you and pouring out all his lonely sorrows as a sort of payback for taking so long to summon him again. after he was done with your lips, he slowly trailed down to your chin, planting kisses along the side of your face until he stopped at your neck.

“what took you so long, sweet cheeks?” he mumbled then, brushing his lips softly against your skin before he dove in.

“i’m so–i’m sorry.” you angled your head, allowing him more access to attack your skin with soft smooches and light bites. the feeling of his wet mouth jolted your desperation out of you like lightning and suddenly, your head was filled with nothing else but the tingly sensation of being peppered with affection.

you were able to enjoy the euphoria for a while before you were lunged out of your colorful trance with the realization that jisung already had one hand slipped under your shirt. right, you finally remembered that he is an incubus and he had been summoned with the expectation of having sex with you like last time.

and while you were welcome to that, while you have been wanting that, within this impulsive of the moment, your brain short-circuited at the thought with a wave of horrible assumption about jisung’s unspoken feelings. it hit you again that what if he was rushing this? he barely said anything and went on to kiss you, was that desperation or impatience? was it because he couldn’t wait to touch you, or was it because he couldn’t wait to end it?

your eyes widened slightly and your brows furrowed. the cycle would continue when he’s done, with him having to go back to hell and you once again waiting another few weeks before you could bust up the courage to summon them again. you didn’t want that, you wanted jisung to stay longer. you’ve got to stall some time.

“oh, wait, jisung.”

your hand went down to grab his, stopping him from his advances. jisung pulled away from your neck and looked up at you, his brows furrowed at the interruption but he gave you the space you needed to speak.

as you tried to sit up, your legs moving to stand, you spoke, “wait, i need to do something first–“

“oh, please,” he huffed out, rolling his eyes before he leaned in to try and attach his lips to yours again. “fuck that, it can wait,”

you turned your cheek, his lips landing on your hair and causing him to grimace in annoyance. you pushed your hands to his shoulders, moving him away from you as you clarified, “just a moment! let me summon hyunjin too.”

“woah, hey, hold on,” jisung said after a moment of processing, a huff of laughter stuffed between as he looked at you in disbelief. “i thought this would just be you and me.”

you paused nervously. his face was unreadable, in a way that there were too many emotions mixed in you couldn’t tell which one was the dominant one. was it the disappointment in his pout? or it could be the faint anger hiding behind the red sparks of his eyes? whatever it was, you just knew he was very opposed to the side of calling hyunjin up as well, and you weren’t sure how to respond to that.

your original plan was to call both of them, but since you had forgotten how you did it last time so now you have to summon them up individually. perhaps jisung got the wrong idea after you accidentally said his name out loud enough for the ritual to hear you.

“well, i just thought because last time–“ you fiddled with your finger awkwardly, your head hung low as you refused to look at him out of embarrassment. “i just didn’t…”

“didn’t what?” jisung asked, his voice raised stoically.

the doorbell of your home suddenly rang, saving you from jisung’s intense gaze with a distraction. you looked away from him to the door of your bedroom with brightened eyes, your mood instantly lifted when you tore yourself away from the million-dollar question you have yet to find the perfect answer for.

“i’ll go get that real quick,” you mumbled under your breath as you scrambled up to your feet and left your room.

it was just the girl who lived next door asking you about the jumpy internet in the residential building recently. you were hoping it would be somebody with better conversation skills, perhaps the old lady who would occasionally bring after school snacks over to your home, at least she would want to ask you how your day went and you could stall more time before you have to go back to the awkward tension.

as you watched her frown at you for trying to stretch out the conversation more than it should, her distracted eyes slowly moved away from your face to the boy who had crept up silently behind you. seeing that she had stopped paying attention to you, you curiously glanced behind your shoulder and immediately got startled to find jisung only inches away from your back.

“you scared me,” you hissed, giving his arm a shove. “i’m just talking to my neighbor! go back to my room!”

jisung furrowed his brows at you, refusing to budge even as you gave him a few shoves on the shoulders. the nonchalant look behind the stranger’s eyes was pissing him off for some reason—this little shit. he would have gotten his answer by now if she hadn’t rung the doorbell, or at least he would have dove right back into kissing you again and left the problem unattended.

he could have convinced you to leave hyunjin wherever he was right now so he could have you all to himself. but no, someone has to come up and ruin everything for him. and judging by the spark of realization and mischief behind her eyes, she was about to ruin it even more for him.

“oh–oh wait. holy shit, no way,” she said with a tone of disbelief, her jaw dropping as she tried not to laugh from shock. pointing a finger at jisung, she glanced at you and whispered just loud enough for all three of you to hear. “is this the hyunjin you kept screaming about lately?”

your cheeks reddened at the comical smirk she was flashing you, genuine curiosity laying behind her face as she glanced between a very pissed-off jisung and a very humiliated you, as if she was trying to see if you two would fit together well enough that she could see you two having sex together. you didn’t even have to turn around to feel jisung tense from behind you, the hotness of his body radiating in a threatening way.

oh, this is bad, really bad.

for one, you had no idea she was able to hear you through the apartment walls. you thought you were being quiet enough just in case you couldn't hear your parents returning home from work, but it could also be possible that you have shamelessly let out a few cries of his name during the neediest moments of your imagination, your hand repeatedly sliding the vibrator into your core as you tried so hard to remember the feeling of his cock.

she could have heard those unfulfilling climaxes you had. but fuck, out of all the times you’ve pleasured yourself, she just coincidentally decided to only pick up the ones when you moaned hyunjin’s name instead of jisung’s? and she dared to knock on your door and expose it to your face as well!

humiliating, embarrassing, stupid! you were trying so hard not to seem like you were being needy just in case you appeared pathetic! now all your effort to stall time, thus creating such an awkward tension, has gone to waste.

“please leave,” you said meekly, gesturing your arm to the side where her flat was located with a flushed face. “just go, oh my god, go.”

jisung’s fury did not falter as the girl gave you a nod before she left with a giggle she failed to surprise. he kept glaring at her head until she left, and then his eyes shifted to the back of your head and he simply tensed up even more than before.

oh, the way his heart just dropped to his stomach when he heard that you’ve been calling hyunjin’s name was beyond anything he has ever felt. first, it was you wanting to call him up, now it was about you touching yourself to the thought of him. oh the devils, could this get any worse for jisung?

he was already confused about his affection enough, now to have it all thrown at his face with hellfire was nothing he could handle properly. the disappointment, the heartbreak, the burning sensation ignited along the paths of his veins leading directly to his scratched-up heart—it was like his world stopped turning for a moment like he just found out you cheated on him.

but you could never cheat on him because you were never his, to begin with. he was just an incubus, so was hyunjin. that was all there was to it, at least that was all there was supposed to be. and since humans can play favorites, while they can call up whoever they wanted, it seemed to him that you have chosen your pick, and the demon wasn’t him.

jisung didn’t know why you called him up then, but since you did anyway, he figured he’d just try to discard his emotions and fuck you like he does everyone else. and a part of him wanted to do that in order to gain some sort of validation from you, to hear you moan because of him, to see that he could be on par with hyunjin in terms of pleasuring you.

he wouldn’t admit it, but he just wanted you to like him back, even just a little bit.

“jisung, don’t listen to her–“ you went to place a hand on his shoulder, but your wrist was gabbed in a millisecond before he started to yank you back into his house. your steps stumbled as you tried to stop him, eyes wide in confusion at his sudden force. “wait, hold on, what are you doing?”

he turned around abruptly, his hand reaching behind your head to cup your neck before he leaned close to your ear. when he spoke, his voice was hauntingly low it almost sounded surreal. “get in the house before i fuck you out here in the hall,” he whispered. “you bet i’ll make sure everyone living on this floor knows who i am.”

you shivered at his words, your knees weakening slightly at the anticipation for what could come but also from the way he was looking at you. his hooded eyes were furious and his grip was deadly, much worse than the first time he grabbed you on the chin.

you would welcome the roughness if it was within the context that the situation ha escalated to that point, but this—this was too abrupt, you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy it.

“jisung, are you oka–“ you got cut off when he growled under his breath. he pulled you into the house himself, slamming the door shut before pushing your back against it with an aching shove.

your hands gripped his flexed arms when he pressed his lips against yours harshly, pushing your head back against the wooden door. he immediately started to suck on your bottom lip without giving you a second of rest, a small whine leaving your lips as he poked his tongue between the gaps of your teeth. he swiped across your bottom teeth, pulled his tongue back, and bit on your lip again.

you were trying so hard to reciprocate the kiss, to move along with his pace, but it felt like you were reverted to when he kissed you for the first time where he was moving too fast and too rough. you weren’t enjoying it, you didn’t like it at all.

“ow–jisung!” you turned your face and pushed him away from you when you felt a sudden sting at your bottom lip. you stopped at arm’s length where you could finally see him clearly, turning to him with wide eyes and an opened mouth.

it was lucky of you to even have the strength to tear him away from you, but you got even luckier when you caught his eyes and he responded to the utter confusion hidden beneath them. his hands dropped from your waist when he glanced at your red, swollen lips that had just a trace of blood lingering on top.

you looked almost appalled by what he did, with your brows furrowed at the red drop you touched onto your fingertip. “jisung, why did you do that? that hurts!”

“i–“ jisung paused. his previous thought to just get you over with vanishing within a blink of an eye when he realized he’s actually caused harm this time. he curled his hands into fists, his muscles tensing up at the thought that you probably hate him even more than you already do, now that he’s let his jealousy and insecurity overwhelm his head. “i’m so sorry, (name).”

you raised your brows, softening at his mellow voice. he couldn’t even look at you when he apologized, and you could see how tensed up he was. perhaps he was ashamed of what he did, perhaps he felt bad that he had taken his anger out on you when he shouldn’t; either way, while still being quite annoyed that he didn’t try a calmer approach, you were appreciative of his sincere apology.

short and straight to the point. no excuses or whatnots. it was already better than how a lot of humans like to do it these days.

“hey,” you called out softly as you stepped up to cup his cheeks in your hands. you searched his eyes, caress his heart with your tender gaze when he finally found it in himself to look back at you. you arched a brow playfully, your thumbs pressing into his cheeks as you said, “you gotta look at people when you talk to them, you know?”

he pursed his lips together, his heart hammering in his chest. you didn’t smell of hated at all, you simply smelt like you—sweet like honey, soft as freshly washed laundry.

once again you set aside the madness and the pain of your own to cradle him in your arms like he held some sort of importance in your life, because your compassion rivaled that of the galaxy. and at this point, he could be all but annoyed and jealous.

jisung was just confused, with a little bit of longing, and perhaps he was in love.

“i’m so sorry i hurt you,” he muttered under his breath, his bottom lip slightly jutting out.

“i forgive you,” you said. “but i’d like to know why you got so rough all of a sudden?”

now it was his turn to get flustered. admitting to his wrongdoings and apologizing was already a brand new world for him, as refreshing and relieving as it felt to hear that you didn’t hold any grudges against what he did. but to admit that he felt jealous? that he felt inferior to another incubus, not to mention the said incubus was hwang hyunjin?

oh hell, no, that was the line he wasn’t sure if he wanted to cross.

“jisung?” you called him again, eyes patient and hands soft.

he looked at you, brows furrowed with defeat at the mercy of your hands; he had come to realize there isn’t any line he wouldn’t be willing to cross for you.

“it’s just….” he sighed. “you don’t scream my name.”

for some reason, the thought didn’t feel as embarrassing as it did when it was first revealed just a minute ago. your cheeks didn’t flush red and your voice didn’t tremble in an attempt to find a terrible excuse to cover the matter up.

you only breathed out a soft laugh, amused. something about the way jisung seemed to genuinely upset that you never thought about him when you were fucking yourself was, in some ways, adorable.

he had no idea how many times you thought about him at night, yearning for his hands to roam around your body, desperate for the strength and speed you couldn’t provide for yourself.

“oh, but i do, i have,” you said, leaning closer to his face. “she just didn’t hear me when i did.”

he huffed, rolling his eyes to the side slightly to express his dissatisfaction. he wasn’t really upset at you anymore, he just wished he didn’t have to be mistaken as hyunjin and that he didn’t have to hear about him being excluded from your dirty fantasies. but his moody thoughts soon faded when you squished his cheeks, leaning even closer to him until your noses touched.

“how can i make it up to you, hmm?” you asked under your breath, looking into his eyes as you nudged the side of his nose, rubbing against it teasingly before you leaned in to kiss him.

oh, where the hell did this boldness come from? jisung wasn’t sure and neither were you, but you were both enjoying it to the fullest as your mouths moved against each other slowly. there was a sense of hotness in the way your lips moved, trying to find the perfect angle and the perfect pressure so he wouldn’t leave a single inch of you unattended.

your back was pushed against the door again as the moment got more urgent. jisung pressed himself up towards your body, chest to chest with his knee forced between your legs. you hummed when he kneaded up on your clothed heat, rubbing against your clit and giving you a jolt of stimulation you’ve been needing all this time.

he finally found it in himself to pull away from him after a few more rubs of his knee against your heat, and he instinctively placed a hand to the back of your neck to keep you close. he pressed his forehead against yours, his chest heaving to catch his breath. his eyes were darker now, but unlike before, they didn’t lack softness in them when he asked carefully, “can you let me do what i want with you, sweet cheeks?”

“yeah.” you nodded without giving it another thought.

the last thing you saw was a spark of red before jisung dove into your face. you shut your eyes, feeling his lips on yours for a rough second before he traveled down to your jaw and your neck, sucking and biting even more hickeys on your skin to overlap the previous ones that haven’t faded yet. his hands roamed around your figure as he buried himself in your scent, squeezing your flesh and cupping your breasts to elicit any type of response from you.

he needed to hear you, badly, whether it was a gasp or a whimper. and like he suspected, your sounds were much more achieving than anybody else’s he has heard these few weeks.

“fuck, jisung–“ you gasped after his hand found their way to the waistband of your short, and he didn’t hesitate in yanking the fabric off your hips so he could tug your pantie to the side and slip a finger between your folds.

“seems like you’ve missed me, sweet cheeks,” he gloated, feeling your walls shrink under his slow pumping, hugging his finger tightly as he slipped it in and out of you.

you hummed out a whimper of agreement when he forced your walls to expand by adding another finger inside, your juices a teasing trail rolling down the gaps between his fingers. and he was really thinking you’d at least be a little used to this after you’ve finally started to finger yourself in your own time, suppose nothing can ever replace the way he does it, not even yourself.

ahh, he couldn’t wait. he couldn’t wait for the moment he could finally push himself inside of you, to feel the first stretch hyunjin beat him to last time. you’re gonna be so good for him, he just knew it.

his thorough pace turned quicker and quicker by the second, and soon the squelching sound of your juices echoed throughout the living room. the tightening in your abdomen was getting overwhelming with each shove of his fingers inside your hole, and each time you could feel your knees giving out more and more. jisung was the only thing holding you up as you sink yourself into the pleasure of not having to do this by yourself, his arm gripping red fingerprints on the side of your waist.

for someone who was going at a pace where his main goal was to chase your high, it came as a disappointing surprise when jisung suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. your whine faltered mid-way and you looked down at him, your brows furrowing questioningly at him. he only smirked, utterly enjoying the way you blushed when he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked a long stripe up his wet finger.

you watched him suck his fingers clean with a fried mind, part of you too shy to say anything while the other part of you screamed at how alluring the flicks of his tongue was. and you didn’t complain when he leaned in to kiss you, poking his tongue into your mouth to lather your essence all over you.

as you panted into his mouth, he reached down to tug at your thighs and guided them around his waist. your circles your arms around his neck, feeling him push you against the door with a thrust at your wet core, his cock hard and vivid under his pants. you tugged at his hair, your hand clawing at his back as he continued to push himself against you for a faint taste of sweet friction, and you pouted with a whine as you moved away for a little.

“jisung…” you wanted more, you wanted to feel him. and he was only a thin piece of fabric away yet he wasn’t giving it to you.

his eyes trailed down to the string of saliva connecting your lips, and even lower he could see the colors he painted onto your skin. all of them fueled him to want more, to finally rid you of your last piece of clothing and just pound into you as he wishes.

“what?” he asked when he finally looked back at you, slightly annoyed that you broke the kiss but he tilted his head when he saw the dazed and needy look on your face. he wasn’t sure when you started to be so bold; last time he checked you were still flustered over hyunjin eating you out, and now you were here asking him to fuck you with pleading eyes.

jisung didn’t hate it, but if you were going to beg for him then you better start using your words. and even then, he might not give you exactly what you want.

“what do you want?” he asked in a hush, his face moving to your neck and licking up your skin.

you pursed your lips together at his question, trying to focus on your thoughts but feeling extremely distracted at the way his tongue flickered across your sensitive spot. you knew what you wanted, just not so much how to say it out loud. and it seemed that your shyness has come back from its short-term vacation because just thinking about filthily begging to be stuffed has got your cheeks tainted red.

jisung’s fingers ran up your body, tapping harsh touches on your skin as they ran up your side and your bones before his hand reached your chin. he grabbed a firm hold of your face, squeezing your cheeks together as he yanked your head to the side to give himself more access to your neck.

“i asked what do you want, baby,” he huffed out near your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “answer me before i leave you with nothing, mmhm?”

“i… i want…” you gulped nervously, finding it hard to swallow your saliva when he has your face squeezed so tightly in the palm of his hand. “i want you to fuck me.”

jisung raised a brow in disdain, staring at you in mock boredom. your voice was hopeless enough for his liking, so small and weak that it gave him a sense of arousing power. your throat bobbed under the influence of his strength, desperately trying to get rid of the liquid gathering up around your inner-cheeks. it was good, but not good enough. it lacked an element in it that he was itching to have.

“is that how you ask people for a favor, sweet cheeks?” he asked, tightening his grip and pushing your head further against the door.

you whimpered at the pain, silently finding it confusing how it could mix in so well with the thrill piling up in your chest. you should be scared with the amount of force he was putting on your small, little face but you weren’t. if anything, you found his demands alluring and his force sexy, you just wanted to feel even smaller under his grasp.

“no–no,” you replied.

“so tell me again,” he said, his enjoyment from watching you squirm in embarrassment the only thing keeping his patience intact. because no matter how strong of a front he was putting up right now, the smell of your essence wafting before his nose was, still, making him spiral into madness. “what do you want?”

“i want you to fuck me, ple–please,” you pleaded, your eyes rolling upwards when you heard a low chuckle from him. your hands went up to his wrist, holding on him as your shoulders rose with your heavy breathing. “please, jisung, i want you to fi–fill me up. please, i want to feel you.”

you were so adorably shy. it’s almost cute if jisung wasn’t aching to finally plunge himself into your right now.

abruptly yanking you by the neck, his eyes took a quick scan of your living room before he dragged you along with him to where the dining table was. his hand briefly let go of you just so he could push your chest against the wooden surface, your head almost hitting down the vase located in the middle.

“wait, right here?” you asked, your eyes wide as you tried to look up.

“yes,” jisung replied, pushing your head back down as he leaned against your back to speak at your ear. “you said you’ll let me do anything i want with you, so i say i’m fucking you where you eat.”

the discomfort of your breasts being squished against the surface melted in with your eagerness when you heard jisung fumbling with the belt of his pants. oh, you’ve been waiting for this day, you’ve been waiting so impatiently and so desperately for his cock, you couldn’t even begin to explain how excited you were to be able to feel that incredible stretch they gave you again.

jisung pulled his belt out of the loops of his pants, gripping it in his hands when it left his pants all loose around his waist. before he could discard it on the floor, however, a second glance gave him a sudden bulb of an idea. he looked at the belt in his hand and glanced back at your body, pinned up uselessly against the surface as you waited for him.

a hum escaped his lips as he removed his hand from your back and brushed your hair away from your back. he clicked his tongue in thoughts, his eyes reddening as he gently ran the back of his finger across your exposed neck. and then he smirked, his grip tightening around his belt for a moment before he released it to let the length drop.

you gasped when you felt jisung pull your head up by your hair, and before long he threw his belt over the curve of your neck and buckled it up at the back. your brows furrowed in confusion, unsure what he was doing exactly until he used his hand to tighten the excess part of the belt. he punctured a hole through the leather with the sharp prong before he looped it through and tightened it around your neck.

it was a choker made out of his belt, you could feel the rusty metal buckle on your flesh. it was a manual leash around your neck he could tug at whenever he wanted to.

you couldn’t see his face, but he was grinning the whole while he shrugged off his pants and pulled his hardened member out of the confines of his boxers. somehow just staring at you with a mock dog leash on your neck was enough to arouse him to the maximum, pre-cum leaking off his tip and dripping down his length like melted chocolate. he pumped his length a few times, rubbing his own cum all over to lube it up a little before he positioned himself at your entrance.

you sucked in a breath, your cheek pressed against the table with your breathing increasing. he was gathering up your wetness by running his tip up and down your slit, making sure you were prepared enough before he slides himself in. it felt so tingly, like needles ghostly being dragged up and down your back. that was until he finally pushed himself in, slowly and carefully, when the needles started to poke instead of a brush.

jisung cursed under his breath at your automatic clench. he didn’t feel this last time; like hyunjin said, he fucked you loose before jisung got the chance to slip himself inside of you. your walls were closing down on him dangerously and slowing down his movement. he could feel the slick skin within clamping down on him to add pressure on his cock, and he tried his best not to shove himself all the way in.

that would be painful for you. besides, the initial stretch is often the best pleasure to have.

he stayed in you for a moment after only pushing in half-way, sweat already starting to gather at his forehead. you moaned meanwhile he continued the cycle of pulling out and slowly slipping back in, helping you with adjusting to his size and making sure you could feel him thoroughly before he fucked your senses away from your head.

“you doing good, sweet cheeks?” he asked, leaning down to place a kiss on your arm as his hands snuck under your shirt to squeeze your boob.

“yeah,” you replied breathlessly, bumping your forehead against the surface at the feeling. “jisung–jisung, please move.”

“you’ve really missed my cock, huh?” he chuckled, complying with your request and rolling his hips against your ass.

you nodded, your hum a weak squeal. “yeah, i’ve missed your cock, jisung,” you said desperately, your hands curling into fists as you rubbing your cheek against the wooden surface.

fuck, you’ve yearned for this feeling. this torn feeling at your abdomen where his cock moved sluggishly in and out of your cunt, his hot skin a million times better than a vibrating plastic toy. and your greediness was growing with each stroke of blissful abandon, your walls clenching in an indication that you wanted him more. harder and faster.

“ahh! jisung please, please move faster,” you whined against the table, your hot breath bouncing back against your face. “please fuck me.”

he furrowed his brows, feeling quite annoyed that you were down there yapping about wanting more when he was putting in most of the work. but granted, he wasn’t feeling too bad himself. in fact, your pussy was making him feel absolutely elated; your clench giving his dick the right amount of pressure, your moans of his name giving him just the validation and reassurance he needed, and you’ve picked up quickly on the slutty begging.

oh devils—jisung could imagine the look on hyunjin’s face when he found out you two have done it without his presence, and the fact that he’s fucked the filthy obedience into your head. fuck, he was over the moon just thinking about it!

“it’s not good to be impatient, sweet cheeks,” he scolded lowly before a smile reached his lips. “but since you begged so nicely, i guess i can give you what you want.”

your jaw dropped at the sudden snap of his hip, a really strong one that pushed you up the table. and starting from then on, there were no more breathy moans and soft whimpers anymore.

jisung was pounding into you hard and fast, so much that the table began to squeak under the weight and the vase in the middle rattled threateningly close to your head. the sound of hot skin slapping echoed throughout the room, mixing in with your cries of his name until your voice came to a choked halt.

with a swift yank, your head snapped upwards and your back arched at the pressure of jisung tugging at his belt. the leather pulled at your throat, sticking against it and printing a red collar shape on your delicate skin. it was cutting your air as much as his hand could have, making your moans extremely strained and throaty.

this felt dirty. you were literally being treated like a dog on a leash right now, your head forced up by his belt as he thrust into you from behind. jisung’s grunts were hoarse, his growls sending waves of shivers pitter-pattering down your heart because he was enjoying himself so much using your hole. and you shamelessly liked it, the guilted part of your heart found immense pleasure from being treated like this.

noticing the way you got louder with him pulling at your throat, jisung couldn’t help but breathe out a sinister laugh as he pulled on his belt even more. your torso went up with his force, feeling his chest press against your back for a brief second before you arched off with the way he was hitting you at this new angle.

his hand continued to stimulate your nipple as he dragged your head back against his shoulder when his fingers moved up the tug at the back of his belt collar. you choked out a moan when he pulled at it, feeling the metal buckle straining against your bones.

he kissed your shoulders as if that could soothe you down from the way he relentlessly pounded into you, your voice urging his never-ending stamina to keep fucking you until he could feel your release.

“fuck, jisung!” you suddenly cried when you felt his tip brush deep into your hole, finding and thrusting up against your g-spot. your body jolted and your knees buckled at the zap of electricity coursing through your veins, scratching up an aching burn in your abdomen.

“am i making you feel good, hmm?” he mused, brushing his nose along your shoulder before he pulled your head back further to kiss your cheek. “ugh, i’ve missed you so much.”

he moved faster, stimulating your sweet spot with quick and greedy thrusts, making you lose your sanity to a point where all you could do was hang out mouth open and look up at the ceiling. he chuckled; you couldn’t remember any words.

your cunt had started to quiver slightly before, but the trembling of your walls were getting more and more overwhelming that jisung wasn’t able to ignore it anymore. you were getting closer to your climax. he knew just from your lack of words and your seductive scent changing from warm honey to dark roses.

deciding to change position, he slipped himself outside of you with a quick plop before spinning you around. you could feel one moment of emptiness, but the hollowness faded quickly when jisung immediately hoisted your body up on the edge of the table.

he spread your legs apart with his hands and before you could even snap out of your trance, he had inserted himself back into you, continuing where he left off to chase after your high.

he tugged at his belt to move you forward, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss you tried to keep up with. it was mostly just jisung sucking on your lips while you moaned your pleasures out and instinctively opened your legs even more for him. he could feel his own knot tightening at his tip whenever the sound of your essence gurgling inside your pussy gets too loud, and he couldn’t wait to feel the warmth of your juices coating his cock again, to feel the hot white substances trailing past his skin.

“jisung–i’m–mmm–jisung,” you whined into his mouth, feeling him pull away to look at your squinted eyes.

“cum around me, sweet cheeks,” he demanded, his hand moved to your trembling thighs, squeezing them for support so he could steady his pace and his strength. “you better fucking scream my name when you do it, or else we’re starting over again.”

you could feel the pleasure piling up, adding to the pain you felt at your ass where the edge of the table pressed against your bones. and with one last thrust, with one last scream of his name, your orgasm unraveled and your cum spilled all over your walls. jisung grunted at the warmth, his cock being clenched with brand new, sticky white walls that inked your cum onto his skin.

looking down when he pulled away, his mouth hung open at the cum that dripped out of your cunt and the lines of your whiteness that splattered onto him. he could feel his dick twitch at the sight, and he quickly shoved himself back inside you both to reach his own orgasm and to ask for more of your juices.

the thought of having your essence all over him an incredibly heavenly idea. and all of this—this lustful euphoria, this demonic insanity he felt has only happened with you. he hasn’t felt this way in weeks, or ever before that, actually.

fucking other humans just doesn’t feel the same as fucking you, because jisung didn’t like anyone else.

a throaty moan left his lips when he felt tingles all over his cock, he knew he was close. removing himself away from you suddenly, he stepped back and pulled at his belt to yank you off the table. your weak legs made you go down immediately, your knees hitting the ground with a bang and your face presented right in front of jisung’s glistening cock.

“open up,” he said, circling his belt around his knuckles before he pulled you up.

your mouth was forced open with that sudden pull, a yelp being muffled as soon as jisung stuck himself inside of your mouth. you still weren’t very used to this, even after having both of them spread your mouth open with their cocks last time.

your mere mouth wasn’t able to take him whole before and you couldn’t suddenly be able to now without any practice, therefore you were left a messy, choking mess when jisung bottomed out in your mouth. not to mention he was yanking you up by the throat, causing heavy trouble in your breathing.

your neck hurt from constantly facing skyward, your mouth limp from being forced open, and your gag reflex a nightmare when his tip kept brushing against your uvula. even then, though, you could see that jisung was having the time of his long, long life.

his eyes were shut and his head thrown back slightly, grunts and moans were leaving his lips like a mantra. it was an angelic sight to see him enjoy himself like this, abusing your throat and mindlessly yanking at your neck.

not to be narcissistic but you took pride in yourself for being able to pleasure him like this.

his cum was still bitter the way you remembered from last time. you swallowed them down as he released them, your throat bobbing against the leather belt as you drank down his heavy load. this felt even more than last time, and you wondered if he hadn’t been able to release his sexual frustration lately.

jisung pulled away from your mouth, his dick limp against his thighs with the shimmering of saliva reflected on the skin. he looked down at you when you started to cough for air, your hands reaching up to wipe off the dripping drool around your lips. sighing out a heavy exhale, he leaned down slightly to tug your body up by the mock leash. he muffled your gasp with his lips, tasting himself on it for a brief moment before pulling away to stare at you.

your eyes teary and hazed, your hair a tousled mess, your lips wet with saliva and cum, your neck and collarbones painted with red marks and purple bruises. and oh fuck, you look stunning like this.

“i…” he shut his mouth.

oh, devils, he almost said it.

his eyes softened at your fragile frame then, the previous aggressiveness fading in a second. he knelt beside you, his hands fumbling to release his belt from your neck before throwing the accessory aside.

he ran his hand across your red skin, a gentle grimace on his face as he soon circled his arm around your torso and brought you to his body. tilting your head up, he laid kitten licks across the hot skin and kissed the afterglow of the pain away. you let him, still trying to catch your breath from the previous encounter.

jisung pulled away from you after he was down patting down your neck with his lips, and he smiled a little at you with a pet to the side of your head. you were smiling at him, your eyes teary and your lips red; he thought you looked great, sexy even. especially more since he did this to you.

tentatively moving closer to you, he looped his arms around your back and under your legs before he pulled you into his arms and held you up bridal style. he slumped down on the couch, marveling at the softness of it as he cuddled you close to his chest.

“are you feeling okay?” he asked, glancing down at you and kissing the top of your head. “you did so well, baby, but did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, leaning against his shoulder with your eyes closed. “it’s fine, i actually kind of liked that.” you giggled. “thank you for making me feel so nice again, i’ve been waiting for it for weeks.”

jisung hummed, his thumb running circles on your skin to calm you down. something seemed to be irking at his chest when he heard that and he tilted his head in confusion, wondering exactly which part of it made him feel so. it took him a while to remember your past conversations, the one you two hastily shared when you just summoned him into your room.

“oh, right, you never answered me,” he said. “what took you so long? it has been weeks.”

you opened your eyes then, staring ahead at the space on the wall. you debated whether you wanted to tell jisung about it, a problem that was rooted so deep inside your self-esteem that you thought perhaps he didn’t need to know.

but he was so caring and so careful with you as the aftermath of sex, just being in his embrace right now felt more at home than being within the space you two were in.

your initial worry that maybe he and hyunjin didn’t like you as much as you hoped they would felt almost… idiotic now.

“it’s… it’s a personal problem,” you replied. “i won’t do it again next time. i promise you’ll see me again soon after you leave today.”

jisung frowned. you didn’t exactly smelt of lies, but your tone felt deceiving. there was a reason why you didn’t reveal the reason behind your delay, though, and jisung thought better about questioning it. having you breathe calmly in his arms, vulnerable and naked, was a moment he wouldn’t destroy for the world.

“you promise?” he chuckled. “not gonna make me miss you too much again?”

you bit your lower lip gently, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “you missed me?”

“i think both me and hyunjin did,” he said, shifting a little. “but i definitely missed you more than he did.”

you giggled quietly, nuzzling your head against his chest. “does everything have to be a competition between you both?”

jisung hummed. no, but they liked it that way. and he reckoned hyunjin would want to do something akin to this to you if he knew that this private encounter happened. a short laugh escaped his lips then as he held you against his chest.

he’d like to see hyunjin try.

#skz smut #skz dark hours #stray kids smut #stray kids dark hours #jisung smut #han jisung smut #sorry if this is kinda bad...

550 notes · View notes

hughiecampbelle · 3 years

Text

Parting Gift (Sam Wilson Oneshot)

Character/s: Sam

Word Count: 1,411

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @brithedemonspawn @megnotfound @ladyeliot @locke-writes @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @randomfandomimagine @amirahiddleston @diana-westmoon @valkyrie-2312

A/N: This was supposed to be fluffy, but the closest I can get to that is melancholy lol. The weathers been nice and it got me feeling nostalgic for summer. I hope this gives off that vibe, if that makes sense? Sam just seemed perfect for this and I kinda love this :) It doesn't exactly fit the timeline, but oh well :P There are only Endgame spoilers, none with TFATWS. I can't thank you enough for letting me rest with my health/writing and posting in general. I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: You finally got him back 💌

Gif Credit: @biwilson / link 💕

FIC MASTERLISTS 1 -> 3 /WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

The low hum of the fan stirs in the quiet heat, restless, a lullaby you've grown used to since the season thawed. The snow puddles disappearing from the hot sidewalks, the grass growing green, the layers shedding around you until there is nothing but skin and the cool air that kisses it. It's old and shaky, the blades twisted, the fixture rattling, threatening to fall from the ceiling with every spin. Another chore you simply never got around to fixing, neglected much like the rest of the house. Like you, it was lucky it was still standing. The floors cried and creaked, needing to be replaced, but where was the time? The paint chipped, falling flake by flake, the shelves in need of dusting, the lawn grown too long, things were rusted, ruining, aging. Everything crooked, leaning, too heavy to stand on its own. One in the same, you and it, a reflection of your inner world, your inner turmoil, your grief defying, humanizing, materializing in rusted pipes, in thorny bushes, and weeds sprouting in the cracks of the sidewalks.

It was your dream. An escape. A slice of heaven he plucked from the skies. At least, that's how he'd described it. His hand, warm and calloused, over your eyes, letting your suspicions get the better of you, questioning like a child. What color was the door? How many windows? Was there a backyard? A steadiness in his voice you knew was not as solid as he showed, leading you past the street, past your new neighbors, the shade of the trees making your skin prickle. Up the path, you tried counting your own steps, anything to cheat the system. A leap of faith, you put so nicely. A house he passed by, one that struck him, caught his eye in a way nothing ever had. You? A house? Romanticized by the shoe box apartments the city had to offer, you never pictured any other life. Not out of opposition, but sheer innocence, a passive, thoughtless gesture you'd never recognized until the opportunity came along. Little convincing, it took. Somewhere far away from danger, from life, where you would always be safe together. That was enough. Always would be.

A fixer upper, that's what it was. Someone to care for in their old age, a long forgotten space only one with a heart of gold could fall for. Whether you were speaking of you, or the house, he'd never get the chance to ask. Where he saw the two of you, together, watching the rain pour from outside, comforted by a warm kitchen, a grand bedroom, nooks you could fill with hints of yourselves, you saw a slanted driveway, an unkempt garden, leaky ceilings and no hot water. He had hope. Dripped in honey,band hope, his voice sang through the thin walls, a symphony of ideas, of dreams for what it would one day be, taking you by the hand, leading you through. A maze of projects, big and small, things you'd add to a list of infinite length, your pen running out of ink long before you ever reached the bottom. For now, a coat of paint, a bucket or two for the leaks. He promised you, in the middle of an empty house, that it would one day be your home. You trusted him, because he was so sure of it, unlike anything else before.

You watched him sleep, the two of you facing one another. The sheets long discarded, too warm to even touch. You could follow the rise and fall of his back, the way in which he held the pillow to him, as if scared to let go. Tracing every line of him with your eyes, taking note of every single change, drinking him up every second you had together. The beads of sweat across his hairline. The upturn of his mouth, a whisper of a smile, as if caught in a sweet dream. The lines you see in yourself not yet reflected in him. Untouched by time. Five years could turn into a lifetime with the right kind of loneliness.

Plastic stuck to the furniture, bloated, sweaty, patiently waiting to be unwrapped. You couldn't bear to look at it, any of it, turning away from entire rooms, going only where it was necessary, using what you needed, not ready to face this place alone. It wasn't that first day, where your things, tightened by the city smog and lack of breathing room, were scattered wherever they might fit, left to expand in their new environment. The kitchen table in the living room. Chairs in the hallway. A couch discarded by the window, blocking the natural light. For the time being, he promised. Too many boxes to count, filled to the brim of glasses and mugs, wedding pictures and high school yearbooks, things you thought you needed, and things you knew you did. All of it wrapped in plastic, paper, t-shirts and towels. Whatever you could find to protect it. Sleeping on the floor those first few days, the mattress late, the frame even later, leaning on one another for that kind of comfort. It wasn't that first day, or week, but enough time to settle. The small things weren't yet opened. Two cups, to dishes, an endless waiting game for supplies to be shipped, of time to be found between work days and exhausted nights. He had a plan though, first the inside, then out. Sometimes there weren't enough plans, or lists, or schedules in the world to stop what would come next.

All of this, less than a month before The Blip.

Things hadn't changed since then, not without him. Five years you carved your path into the floorboards, avoiding everything that hurt like a landmine. His cup, his dish, his knife, and fork, and spoon, untouched. You would not look through your wedding album, or seep into the couch you bought together, or pluck the thorn riddled bushes like you pictured. His side of the bed empty, his clothes tucked away where you didn't have to see. All except one shirt taped up, turned away. His cologne fading from the collar, something out of your control, that made you want to scream. Everything these days, it seemed, was out of your control. Others, they moved on eventually. Started dating. Remarried. Found new friends, had more kids, picked up where they left off. Family reached out, teammates too, but you couldn't look at them. The anger, the sadness, all of it overwhelming. It left you drowning in questions no one had the answer to, everyone asking themselves the same thing: Why him, and not them? Why him, and not you? Why did any of this happen in the first place?

Isolating became the cure, and the corruption. The salt in the wound, a familiar sting you grew to expect, even want. A home for two, he promised, only now you were one. How cruel could the universe be? Hour by hour, day by day, you counted, carrying on for when he'd be back, because he would be. Sam, your Sam, too stubborn a man to give up like that. You would have dusted, washed the floors, made the place a little more welcoming if you'd known he'd be back when he did. Everyone came back, reappearing out of thin air, but where they felt frenzy, uncertain in explaining all that's happened, you were at peace, able to breathe again. Time had stopped when he was gone, your life paused. You could feel it, the moment when, the clocks in the house ticking once again inside their boxes.

Now, you lay together, as you had that first night. Not on the floor, not as naive as you were, but together none of the less. The sunlight strains, wanting to light up the room from behind the curtains. Even without it, you find yourself baking, wishing the fan would have a little more power. Sleeping in, you could have laughed. Five years he had, somewhere else, to rest, and yet you let him, not wanting to wake from what you fear might be a nightmare. If you woke up, and he was gone again, you weren't sure what you'd do, how much longer you could stand it. He assured you though, much like he had with this house, everything would work out in the end. That he was here, and he'd never leave you again.

Ever.

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satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ a little home

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: sawamura daichi/f!reader/azumane asahi

⇢ au: aged up!au, poly!au, officer!daichi, fashion designer!asahi

⇢ summary: you have had a terrible day and daichi would be remiss if he didn’t help you feel better. if asahi happens to arrive home just in time to join in the fun, well, who are you to complain?

⇥ masterlist

⇥ requests are open! | rules

⇢ warnings: established relationship, polyamory, smut, comfort, fingering, praise, double vaginal penetration

⇢ word count: 3.3k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: this was written for a friend of mine when they were going through a bit of a hard time, so the plot point is specific to that. still, i liked this fic so i asked if i could post it.

You slammed the door of your apartment shut behind you, nearly screaming in aggravation as you kicked your shoes off hard enough that they bounced off the wall.

Thinking you were alone, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Daichi’s voice reached your ears. “Long day?”

Whipping around, you scanned the room, but he was nowhere in sight. The deep anger in your chest ebbed away at the sound, but it was replaced with an irrational anxiety when you couldn’t find him. “Dai? Where are you?”

“The bedroom, love.”

You followed his voice and found him just shedding his uniform, hanging his utility belt on the hook next to his jacket in the closet. “You’re home. I thought you were supposed to be working all night on that new case.”

“The suspect turned himself in, so they let us off at the normal time,” he said, turning to you with a smile which fell when he caught sight of the dark circles and the frown. There was a sparkle to your eyes that wasn’t happiness at seeing him, though that was there too. No, you were ready to cry and that could only mean one thing. “Oh, baby, come here.”

It was the final straw.

The tears spilled over and fell down your cheeks before you could fight it, the sympathetic, warm glow in his eyes an instant comfort even if he looked ready to go out and pick a fight. And he would, if you gave him permission. But you both knew you wouldn’t. Even if she hurt you time and again, she was still your mother and you didn’t want her and your partner going at each other.

But that didn’t mean the things she did and the things she said stung or aggravated you any less. You wondered for the hundredth time what you had done to make her treat you like that as your tears soaked his undershirt.

Daichi could already tell what you were thinking. No matter how many times him and Asahi had told you that none of it was your fault, you always fell back on feeling guilty, thinking you were overreacting or that it was something you had done. Only time and distance would give you perspective, but you couldn’t give yourself either. Or rather, she wouldn’t give you either.

But he wasn’t going to push you. You would have to figure it out for yourself, and in the meantime, he would be there to support you.

While he rubbed your back, his lips pressing to your hair in soothing kisses, he fished his phone out of your pocket and sent a quick text to Asahi. It was a familiar one, and one he would no doubt understand.

“Let me get finished and then we can go relax and you can tell me all about it. Asahi will be home soon, too,” he said, pulling back enough to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

You moved to sit at the edge of the bed, watching him slowly undress, his issued pants unzipped and hanging low on his hips, revealing his boxers underneath. He pulled his shirt over his head, his back muscles rippling with the movements. Even years after he’d quit playing volleyball competitively, he kept up his physique playing with the community teams. He was good at teaching children and well liked, and made a solid foundation as captain of your neighborhood team. It also had other benefits, such as making good eye candy.

His shoulders shook and you caught his eye in the mirror, shrugging. “I like what I see.”

His pants slid down his toned legs and were followed by your eyes, just drinking him in. They were replaced with a pair of basketball shorts, and then he came to stand in front of you and you parted your legs willingly. He slotted himself between your thighs, pushing you back until you were laying flat on the bed.

“I know I said we’d relax, but your staring has distracted me. I think I should return the favor,” he said, his voice husky and amused. His fingers danced up your inner thighs, covered by your jeans until they landed on the button. When he heard no disputes, he flicked it open and pulled the zipper down, tugging your jeans halfway down your thighs followed by pushing your shirt up to your neck, displaying your bra.

Pressing open mouthed kisses all over your stomach elicited a giggle, and he chuckled against your skin, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your hips. He paved a trail up your ribs with his lips and hands, nudging you to arch so he could unclasp your bra. The way your breathing deepened as his fingers cupped just under your breasts, bouncing them and listening to your giggles, made him smirk. The noises changed right to gasps as his mouth found your nipple, flicking his tongue over the bud. Your back arched and a small moan escaped as he sucked, your fingers finding his hair and tugging him closer, as if he was planning to go anywhere.

Letting his fingers wander down further, they ghosted over your clit, gathering the slick already there and circling it with two fingers. When he switched to your other, neglected nipple, they slid further down, splitting your folds and prodding one finger into your wet, needy hole. Your hips rolled, fingers pulling at his hair while he curled that finger inside of you. Sparks of pleasure flooded through you, the moans growing louder and more garbled.

“Daichi, please, more,” you begged, trying to throw your legs over his shoulders, forgetting you were still wrapped up in your jeans. You whined when Daichi pulled away, laughing at the angry tug at his hair and wrapping his fingers around your insistent wrist.

“Wait, baby, give me a second.”

Your pants were off and thrown over his shoulder, landing with a muffled whump somewhere near the closet, but you were too preoccupied to notice as Daichi had thrown your legs over his shoulders and dived back in. Your voice cracked around the noise you made, your thighs clenching around his head as his tongue flicked across your clit so fast you were seeing stars. His fingers slid back into your tight heat and he groaned around your clit as he watched you cup your own tit, tweaking your nipple while you tugged at your hair. Your pussy made the most delicious noises, so wet for him and he worked a third finger into you for your trouble. Curling his finger just right, your hips jerked in his hold, nonsensical pleading leaving your lips as you hurtled toward the edge.

Your stupor broke at the sound of a door clicking shut, and you opened your eyes to find Asahi staring at you with an amused grin.

“Well, what do we have here?” he asked, loosening his tie as he set his bag down on the dresser.

“Dessert,” Daichi responded, barely moving away from your still sensitive clit as he said it, and the movement of his lips against it sent little shocks of pleasure. With his fingers still buried in your pussy, you weren’t sure if you were in heaven or hell.

“Before dinner? Dai, you ought to know better,” Asahi said, flicking the buttons on his shirt open.

Your eyes rolled as Daichi returned his attention to your clit, taking it a little slower now, giving Asahi a show without your permission. The pleasure built up quicker than you were expecting and you shook with your orgasm, clamping down tight around Daichi’s head. You kept your eyes on Asahi as long as you could, enjoying the slight flush on his cheeks until the pleasure forced your eyes to shut.

“Damn, _____, you really are beautiful, you know that?” Asahi whispered, pushing strands of hair out of your face and smiling when you grinned up at him. “Think you have the energy for some more?”

“Always,” you whispered, tugging on his hand.

Instead of coming down to you, he pulled you up, cupping the back of your head and capturing your lips with his. Delving his tongue into your mouth, you tasted coffee just the way he liked and a hint of strawberries-- probably from the strawberry mochi he always bought at lunch. His fingers threaded in your hair and yours followed suit, tugging his hair from it’s high bun and sighed at the softness.

“Don’t hog her, Asahi,” Daichi said, setting your legs down. But he didn’t move back from you.

Instead, you felt the bed dip where he put his weight down and, when Asahi pulled back, you saw that Daichi had braced himself on one arm over you. You had a sudden flash of overwhelming, unadulterated love for him as he stared down at you with gentle, if not mischievous, eyes. He never judged you, never pushed you about certain sensitive topics, but always offered an ear no matter how much he disliked what he heard. But it was only ever because he hated what it did to you.

Thinking like that, you turned to look at Asahi, who was stripping himself of his pants and flushed pink when he caught you looking. A smile still spread across his lips, as quick as ever and the gentle glint in his eye told you that Daichi had told him about your day already.

Tears burned your eyes again, but for an entirely different reason. Overwhelming love flowed through you and, as if Asahi could read it on your face, he rushed over. Daichi must have seen it too because your lips were suddenly occupied and your mouth filled with his tongue, tasting everything.

You moaned into his mouth while he shuffled around, leaving the space between your legs unoccupied. As you were about to complain-- or try to, you weren’t sure how yet-- fingers were prodding at your still wet slit, one and two and then three fingers sliding in so easily it was almost embarrassing.

Muffled moans left your lips as you realized that both of them had filled you, and it was probably Asahi’s gentle touch against your clit. The thought was enough to drive you right to the edge and a sharp pulse of pleasure shooting from your cunt through the rest of you had your back arching and your hips rolling. They scissored and flexed inside you, stretching your pussy out to prepare you for what was to come. A fourth finger prodded gently, questioning just as Daichi pulled away from your lips.

“Please, I want it, want you,” you babbled as soon as you were free. The fingers of one hand curled into Asahi’s and he took the hint, winding his fingers between yours as he smiled. There was the most delicious stretching sensation and the dam broke, pulses of pleasure flowing through you and moans leaving your lips as you soaked their fingers.

“You’ll have us, baby, just wait,” Asahi said, lifting your ragdoll body up easily so that he could slide underneath you, your trembling legs settled on the outside of his, leaving you spread open to them. Like Daichi, he kept his physique up even after leaving competitive volleyball, helping the community teams. You were already so tired from two mind blowing orgasms in as many minutes, but still you reached up, threading your fingers through his hair. You tilted your head to the side at his nudging and felt his lips on your neck followed by his teeth nibbling. Giggling, you turned and pressed your lips to his, feeling his curl up against yours.

He knew you had had a rough day thanks to Daichi, but he had already known before that that you would. It always ended rough when you went to hang out with your mom. Either you hadn’t done something right, or you didn’t come see her enough, or your relationship was immoral and wrong, or any other number of things she could come up with to make you feel guilty and insecure. There was no reason for her to do those things to you that he could see. You may not be perfect, but you were you and more than enough for him and Daichi.

He reached up to cup the back of your head, holding you to him just a little longer while Daichi settled between your legs.

It was about then you realized you could feel both of them settled against your slit and another thrill of pleasure coursed through you. You weren’t even sure how you could still want more after but the way your pussy clenched around nothing at the idea of both their thick cocks filling your tight hole out told you that you did.

Daichi rooted around for a moment in the nightstand for the bottle of lube you kept on hand for just such occasions as this. He started with his own, slicking it all over his cock, which throbbed at the thought of sliding into your hot cunt. Then he moved onto Asahi’s, watching his partner’s eyes close tight and his forehead come to rest on your shoulder. Your eyes were locked on the way Daichi’s hand wrapped around Asahi’s cock, pumping it slowly and watching the precum bead at the tip.

When he was sure they were both lubed up good, he slid his slicked fingers back into your pussy, making sure you were nice and wet and loose, and smirked when you clenched around him. Nodding to Asahi, he watched as his partner lined up with your slit, prodding and sliding slowly into you and the way your lips stretched taut around him. Your shaky breath reached his ears and his smirk widened.

“Sure you can take us, love?” he asked, tapping the head of his cock against your clit and you trembled.

As if I haven’t taken both of you a hundred times before, you thought, letting your head fall back on Asahi’s shoulder. His chest rose and fell unevenly against your back, his breath puffs of hot air against your ear as he chuckled. “Yes, Dai, please, I can take it. I need it, both of you, inside me please.”

He listened to your whiny babbling, almost slurring in your desperation for Daichi, and took pity on you.

“Stop teasing her, love. She sounds so desperate and she’s asked so nicely,” he said, kissing your shoulder.

Daichi laughed and began to press slowly in, and all three of you moaned at the tightness, the stretching, the rub of their cocks inside you and against one another.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, your back arching and you were sure you stopped breathing but it was worth it when Daichi settled to the hilt inside of you. You were trembling in their arms, your back still bowed and Asahi beat him to cupping your heaving tits, tweaking the already hard nubs, rolling them between his fingers. He enjoyed just watching though, and the way you gasped and dug your nails into the bedcover when he pulled out and slid back in slowly, testing if he could move without hurting you.

When you only moaned and moved your hand to wrap around Asahi’s wrist, he groaned and let loose. Underneath you, Asahi rocked his hips, not moving much but rubbing every sweet spot inside your pussy, leaving you a drooling, whited out mess. He could feel your legs trying to close, thighs clenching with every thrust while an endless stream of noises left your lips. Daichi’s pace was rougher, faster, providing friction against Asahi’s cock and he moaned Daichi’s name into your hair.

Fingers threaded through your hair and your eyes fluttered open, locking onto Daichi’s intense gaze and your lips parted. The pressure let up and he cupped your chin instead, his thumb sliding between those spread lips, his eyes narrowing.

“Suck.”

Obediently, your lips wrapped around his thumb, your tongue laving the pad of his thumb as you stared up at him.

“Good girl. You’re so beautiful, _____, you know that?” Asahi whispered, pinching your nipples and tugging, feeling you spasm around them. The slick squelching coming from your pussy combined with the praise of the two enormous men towering over you, stretching you out and stuffing you full, was sending you into a stupor.

The glide and pull of their cocks inside of you, sliding over every overstimulated sweet spot inside of you and the grind of Daichi’s coarse curls against your clit was forcing loud moans and cries of their names from your lips as you hurtled toward the edge for the third time that evening. Your toes curled as the pleasure expanded, your nails digging into Asahi’s wrist as he began to roll your nipples again, almost screaming his name as Daichi forced himself so deep into you that you could feel his head kiss your cervix and you came, clenching down around them so hard they both gasped, twitching inside of you.

You twitched with little aftershocks as Daichi continued to thrust, seeking his own pleasure while Asahi continued to roll gently into you. Both their pleasures mounted at the way you fluttered around them, so tight it was almost choking their cocks, your moans quieted now and intermingled with gasps and panting.

“Cum, please, Dai, Asa, please,” you cried as Daichi’s thrusts became rough and sloppy, his cock pulsing as his thumb forced its way between your lips again. The feel of your tongue wrapped around it, sucking on it like you would his cock, so good and tight and warm--

“Fuck,” he snarled, hilting himself deep as he came, covering Asahi’s cock with his hot cum while he filled you to the brim.

The sight of your lips wrapped around Daichi’s thumb and the squeal that left them as Daichi filled you up spiked Asahi’s own pleasure, but what sent him over the edge was when Daichi pulled out of you, a trail of his cum dripping out of you and covering his cock. His hips jumped up, thrusting a few more times as he used your tight pussy to milk himself off, his cum mixing with Daichi’s inside you. He could feel you trembling around him every time he struck your clit and felt a little guilty when he came down from his high.

“Sorry, love,” he said, leaving a trail of kisses up and down your neck and shoulders to make up for it. You had just cum three times, you needed a break.

While Asahi took care of settling you on the bed, Daichi fetched a warm cloth to clean the three of you up. Afterwards, once you were all dressed-- it took you a few minutes to regain feeling in your legs-- you moved to the kitchen, reheating the takeout Asahi had brought home at Daichi’s request.

“So, what happened today anyway that had you so upset?” Asahi asked, leaning against the counter beside you.

Daichi, at the microwave, turned to look at you from the corner of his eye. But, even though your face fell, you shrugged and smiled.

“The usual. You aren’t good enough, you should be doing this or that or-- whatever. You know, it doesn’t really matter, because I get to come home to the two of you, and that will always make me feel better,” you said, taking Asahi’s hand. Your other came up and curled a strand of his hair around your finger, smiling up at him and receiving his signature gentle smile in return.

Daichi came up behind you, his arms curling around your waist and his head resting on top of yours, gazing softly at Asahi across from him, and then that gentle smile met his own lips.

“We’re always here for you too, _____. Always.”

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇥ masterlist

taglist: @lyovochkaa

#daichi sawamura x reader #asahi azumane x reader #daichi sawamura x reader x asahi azumane #daichi x reader #asahi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hqfic

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