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#but you can’t look at dew and not this GOD YES PLEASE YES
dewedup · 3 months
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thinking about the way dew points to the ground and phantom bends over backwards for him
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heretodestroyou · 1 year
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heart-shaped sunglasses.
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pairing(s); matthew lillard!william afton x reader
fandom; five nights at freddy’s [movie]
w/c; 592
trigger/content warnings; slightly unholy thoughts from william about you in your uniform, fem!reader, (reader wears lipstick, has boobs, is called 'girl' by william and has medium-length hair), heavy lana del rey influences (diet mountain dew), mentioned that reader smokes cigarettes, age gap (william is late 40s, reader is mid 20s), no explicit romance but it's heavily implied there's mutual pining, written from william's pov, reader knows his real name, not proof-read, NO use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything.
stella speaks! at this point someone reblogs/tags me in a shitpost about this man, i add tags while my brain is inconsolably horny, and then all of a sudden i'm writing a new draft. and yes, ik lana wasn't really a thing in 1990s, but for now let's pretend he's still a silver fox in the 2020s.
tags; @truecobblepot bc ofc🫶🏽🫶🏽
inspired by this post and the shenanigans that ensued.
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“I just wanted to know how much I appreciate you staying late these past couple weeks.”
William’s voice is smooth, he’s demeanor calm, the slight tilt of his head and the casual clasp of his hands in front of him giving no hint to the turmoil in his brain.
You’re his employee. His best employee, no less. He can’t afford to lose you, to drive you away. So he’ll make sure you’re not looking him in the eye when his roam your body.
The words that come from your mouth are sincere. He knows this. He doesn’t much care in this moment however. That red vest is pulled across your breasts, and the top button of your shirt is undone, your tie looser now that the building is empty.
It’s his fault, how tight your uniform is on you. He has your size on file, but he always orders a size down, just for him. He doesn’t pay mind to the way teenage pizza boys and older brothers here with siblings watch you, because he knows he’s miles better than they are.
His eyes linger in the plastic heart-shaped sunglasses hanging from your collar, and he nods towards them. “And those? I do hope you haven’t been wearing those all day.”
It’s a gentle correction. No matter how much William favors you, he still must keep his image up. You shake your head. “No, I just got them out of my locker when I closed up with Robyn.”
“Where did you get them?” He asks, leaning forward. The movement is subtle, but he knows you catch it.
“It was a gag gift from some party,” you answer, taking them off your vest and sliding them on. William's breath barely catches in his throat. The frames are the same shade as the blood red lipstick you love wearing.
It’s your signature. It’s how he knows you’ve been in the break room, paper coffee and water cups stamped with your lips in the trash, lipstick printed cigarette buts in the back alleyway that he’s convinced himself are prettier than anyone else’s.
William's brain is rapid firing all kinds of signals, ranging from you're nearly 20 years younger than him, to why have I never felt this was about my ex-wife?
Everything about you seems to catered to William's preferences. You hold eye contact with him and customers, you're great with kids (including his!), and you actually appreciate the care he takes of his animatronics.
He chuckles as you look around his dim office with your heart-shaped sunglasses. "Well, now, look at you. Never was there ever a girl so pretty." You giggle, tugging on a strand of hair and sliding them up into your hair. "That's so sweet, Mr. Afton!" William chuckles. You're picture perfect and William is damn well aware that he's no good for you. "Please, call me William. It's only fitting that we remain on first name basis...as of your promotion to assistant manager."
Your eyes widen, and you let out a little gasp. "Do you really mean that, Mr. Af-- William?"
God, the way your lips form his name is intoxicating. He nods, his demeanor wavering slightly as you beam at him, thanking him.
It’s a power move, he knows. A selfish one, no less. But he can’t risk losing the one competent employee. And besides, the assistant manager’s uniform is closer to his, the pale purple shirt and darker tie, black slacks and black shoes (of your choosing, of course).
And who is he to deny himself that view?
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Incorrect Quotes! (For Omega Strikers) (Part 2!)
Kai: If bees can be fish and boys can be girls, then why can't my dad love me? X: I thought I was going to have to yell at you, but now I think I should hug you.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
AiMi: Era and I are no longer dating. Era: AiMi, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Vyce: Oh, here’s my award for the most rules broken! Octavia: That’s not an award, it’s an angry letter from your boss. Vyce, hanging it on her wall: Well, it has the word ‘most’ in it, so I’m calling it an award!
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
X: So, what, now I'm just supposed to do anything Atlas does? I mean, what if he jumped off a cliff?Drek’ar: If Atlas were to jump off a cliff, he would've done this due to his diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Atlas jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Luna: You jump off a cliff! Drek’ar: Gladly, provided Atlas did first.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Juliette: Why do you keep a diary?! Estelle: To keep secrets from my computer.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Kai: Can I ask you for a favor? X: I would literally die for you, but continue. Kai: We need to talk about you starting sentences that way ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Luna, playing pretend : Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. Zentaro, also playing pretend: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Vyce: Guess what number I’m thinking of. Asher: 420? Vyce: No, that’s really immature of you. Someone else guess, and please take this seriously. Juliette : 69. Vyce: Yeah it was 69.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
X: slams books down in front of Era X: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night. Era: You could have said literally anything else. X: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble. Era: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
X: Relationships should be 50/50. Kai cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Atlas: Why are you like this?? Rune: Obscura forced me to use too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Asher: Happy Throwback Thursday! Here’s a throwback to when Dubu ate an entire tube of lipstick. Dubu, whining: Dubu! (But why would it be cherry-flavored if you can’t eat it?!)
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Estelle: Asher kissed me! Juliette: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Estelle: It was unbelievable! Juliette: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Octavia: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Juliette, get the wine and unplug the phone. Estelle, does this end well or do we need tissues? Estelle: Oh, it ended very well. Juliette: Do not start without me! Do not start without me! Octavia: Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing? Estelle: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it. Octavia: Ohh… So, okay, was she holding you? Or were her hands on your back? Estelle: First she started out on my waist and then she slid up and then she was in my hair. Juliette and Octavia: Ohhh. meanwhile Asher eating pizza in Vyce’s house: And, uh, and then I kissed her. Vyce: Tongue? Asher: Yeah. X : Cool.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Rune : Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Atlas periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’ Rune : It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Luna: Do you care if I take the skin off this Furby? Luna: I want to make him a god. Once he is free of his sinful flesh, he can begin a path towards enlightenment. He will take care of us. Luna: I also want to softhack his circuits. Atlas: I literally could not care less but never say anything as frightening as that ever again.
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Juliette : I was voted “friendliest classmate” in high school. Asher: I was voted “most likely to become a clown”… Vyce: You think that’s bad? HA! I was voted “most likely to get rabies”!
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Rasmus: I love hearing AiMi shouting at someone else. It makes such a nice change.
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yellowfingcr · 2 years
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Once again, cloak and weapons tossed aside, Heysel’s silhouette unfolds against the horizon.
Hands set to the ground, boots skyward, her upended body bends into sharp angles with calculated mantis elegance. A manner to hone the elasticity of her, to enforce her dominion over muscle and tendon; to once again ask herself can I still, and witness her flesh say yes. 
“Little beast,” she says, and the phantom dog squatting in the grass tilts his great head, as if in true interest. Perhaps he does possess it, in his own way. “I’ve been thinking.”
A sentence like a prelude to a pantheon of awfulness, like an admission of a crime. Sweat trickles down her brow, drips to dew the petal of a flower jutting not too below her chin. She is all tautness.
“You and I are not too different, aren't we? You get strength. You get crushing. Don’t you love when you catch those little birds between your teeth? Nothing simpler or truer than violence,” she groans, curving her spine until her feet touch the ground, until she is bridge-shaped.
“And violence is demanded of me. Kill until you are crowned. Kill until you are victorious. We’ve already talked about this.”
The dog pants, patient. She pours herself upward, returns to a standing position, before gathering one leg toward herself, ceding her balance to the remaining foot as she stretches her arms.
“I repeat myself. We cannot let this happen. We can’t. The rules are hideous and this game worse. Winning by following the manual only guarantees there is a- war god. Someone so strong they cannot be challenged. Even the most enlightened ruler would need binding. Man-controlled fetters. No gods, yes, but neither human replacing them. And here's the thought. All of this works as long as we all compete against each other, but-”
She looks into the animal’s vacant eyes. 
“Please tell me not to do this,” she pleads, "Tell me not to care. Tell me not to even dare because it’s pointless. Tell me to keep my ridiculous ideas to myself and not to waste time.”
The dog stares, tongue out.
“A sign. Any sign. Please stop me. Gods. I don’t know. Bark- bark once to say no. Twice to say yes, why not, proceed, toss yourself against the wall, who even cares.”
The dog stares.
Heysel, heart beating hard from exercion, muscles burning, makes a small terrible noise, and lowers her palms to her eyelids.
“No. No, no no, you’re right, my bad. You are in no place to help me make this choice,” she continues, turning to gather her things. "Sorry. I bother you."
And then a little nearby sparrow escapes from a branch into the air, and the phantom beast barks, mangled and loud, precisely twice.
And then Heysel stills.
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mrskurono · 4 years
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title: Baby Fever a/n: ok you know what I’ll admit it, all I’ve been thinking about lately is Geto. He’s on my mind constantly. Should I be working on something else, yes. Is Geto the first jjk character I really had a crush on, maybe. I just....fucking Geto ok this has taken me four times to right jfc word count: 1.7k tags: no sub/dom dynamics, romantic sex, established relationship, manga spoilers, fingering, multiple female orgasms (not overstim though) breeding kink, needy Geto, creampie, unprotected sex, pregnancy mention, body worship, really just soft sex ok, unedited character(s): Geto Suguru (jjk)
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They had grown. 
Both girls that was. 
Into wonderful adolescences that brought a set of different challenges. Geto was ready for that be it blindly. And he loved every part of it times two. Each time he looked at either of the kids though he could vividly remembered rounder cheeks, rosier faces and goofier smiles. It left him reminiscing over that more and more now.
You noticed it in the most subtle ways. Geto wanting more. More of those days even though he wouldn’t outright ask.
A trace of his fingers along your collar bone drew you away from what was in your lap. For the most part you’d ignored him once he came to bed but it grew almost impossible when the sorcerer had his lips pressed to the conjunction of your head and neck while a light touch traced down your chest. Not irritated in the slightly, you still give a playful sigh as you put your book down.
“Can I help you?” You can’t even turn your head to see him. Geto’s face is pressed to you with a trail of peppered kisses following suit.
With a firm grip he slipped his fingers against your thigh to give it a playful squeeze. Geto pulled out of the crook of your neck enough to finally look at you with that off brand smirk of his, “Mayhaps.”
You grin just to lean down and catch his lips on yours. Instead though you pull away just as he was going to lean into you. Earning your own smirk to play on your lips, “Mayhaps if you ask nicely Mr. Suguru.”
The hand on your thigh tightened. Pulling you towards him in a meager attempt but for the most part you stayed rooted where you were. Only slightly letting your legs fall open as your smirk grew into a full blown smile. He was awfully soft for a man on the run orchestrating a death cult. 
Geto slipped his fingers up along the crotch of your bottoms. Nudging his forehead against yours like he’d done every night this week. An eye roll that held no merit you grab his face and kiss him deeply. There isn’t a second in hesitation as you lean into him. Geto’s fingers moving up to help you wiggle out of your bottoms. A similar scene playing out just like the previous nights but you didn’t mind in the slightest with his attention fully on you.
“You’re so wet.” He commented against your lips the second his index finger dipped between your folds.
“And you’re already hard.” You toss back to him when your palm presses up against the stark hardness hidden under his robes, “Why don’t we help each other out?”
A nod and he didn’t stop to push back into the kiss. Geto hovering above you but it was your teeth nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Leaving the man to groan as his fingertips danced on either side of your clit. Your hips coming up to join in the motion of his fingers rubbing against you. Only for a few moments though because once they were soaked enough Geto couldn’t keep them from slipping inside you.
“Fuck...you’re so needy,” You moan against Geto’s lips as he curls his fingers in on you. He wouldn’t hesitate to make you cum like this before the main event even started.
Lips back to your neck, Geto hummed something but then nodded and mumbled against the softness of your ear, “I need you.”
Reaching down to grip his forearm as Geto’s fingering picked up in it’s urgency. You regretted the moan when his fingertips brushed over your g-spot. Within seconds he was back at it. Not leaving your sensitive spot alone as your cunt twitched and tightened around him with the impending orgasm. He was gonna get one from you with not much more than a snide remark on your part.
“F-Fuck...” Lip taut with tension as you bit down, fighting it wasn’t in your best interest, “S-Suguru- I- I’m gonna-”
“Cum-” His voice almost desperate, hot breath against your neck, fingers not letting up on their assault, “Please cum- Please I need you to cum- Please-”
The want in his voice too much. Just the way he wouldn’t stop after your orgasm tipped itself over. Fingers pulling a toe curling orgasm out of you as you clutched onto his robes and felt every fiber in your body tingle with hopelessness for him.
Fingers slowing, Geto simply wiggling them around in you and feeling the slickness covering his knuckles. It was when you snagged him for a long drawn out lazy kiss. Just to follow it by an order that he get undressed already, meant the man had no choice but to listen.
Rid of his clothes and between your legs before you knew it. You look down to see him swiping his cock up through the drool of your cunt. What wasn’t on his fingers previously now coated his cock with a beautiful glisten. Geto more than enthralled seeing his cock slip between your cunt lips. Each movement of his length grinding into your sensitive nub sent a shiver up your spine. Either he was too into watching or he was teasing you. A few more swipes and you demand he get on with the main course already.
One push and Geto’s cock slipped down to the hilt with ease. Stretched thoroughly from the nightly fucking all week. Today was no different. Juices squelching around his cock Geto pushed himself down to his base. Feeling his cock bottom out in you no problem. Leaving the man to hover over you. Caged in by both his arms on either side of you. And his hair tickling your face when you looked up at him.
“You’re beautiful.”
“You’re handsome.”
Geto stalled a moment. Savoring the way his hips felt snug in yours. The residual feeling of your walls twitching around him. Not a day would go by where he didn’t swear you were made for him. 
“I love you.” His words clear and concise. You looked up at Geto once more.
What smirk you had early softened into a smile. Bringing his face down to yours for a kiss, “I love you t- fuck-” Before he let you finish Geto grinned against your lips and thrusted into you without warning. Just to watch you convulse and loose yourself on his cock. Just as beautiful as ever. He felt himself unable to control himself all over again.
Each snap of his hips into your core left you breathless. He wasn’t rough. Never was he rough. Geto’s cock curved in the right way that left you rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts. Even if it felt like he was going to split you in half, you still wanted more.
Orgasm or not Geto was bringing you right back to the edge. He always did. As you showered his face in breathless kisses. Some of those met with his own lips. Others spared on his neck and collar bone as you watched with a dazed look at where your bodies met. Geto buried inside you with each thrust. His hands hooked into your hips with your legs slightly elevated so he could defile your deepest parts. Every night this week he’d fuck you like this. In the drunken pleasurer of it all you might have thought he was trying to breed you.
“Please-” Geto’s voice peeled you away, “Please cum-”
Thinking he wanted you to cum on him again you half ass nod, “Yes- Fuck yes I’ll-”
“No-” He groaned more of a gasp. Geto putting his forehead against yours even with the dew accumulating on it, “Please- Please can I cum- Cum in you- I just-”
More than surprised. Of course he’d done so more than once before. Now he was asking you? 
“Love why ask just-”
“I want another baby-” Geto broke your question up, his hips still a mind of their own. His breath ragged against your lips and sweat making his hair cling to him, “With you- Another one- Just one- Let me fill you up- Let me fuck a baby in you- Please- I- I love you so much and-”
“Yes.”
Geto’s turn to be surprised.
“Yes please, god fuck yes- Fuck a baby inside me-” You grab Geto’s face. Caring less if you cum at this point and more for the warmth of his release. Lips smashing onto his you don’t hesitate to moan into the fevered kiss.
Geto pulling you down on him with each thrust. Driving his cock in you as deep as he could. Quicker than before like he was desperate for it. Even while your legs twitched and curled, knowing he was breeding in you, something snapped in you.
The way you can on him. Scream only muffled by the fact Geto wouldn’t move his lips from yours. Each rippling twitch of your cunt around him was maddening. Hearing and feeling you craving him sent him into a tizzy until it was simply too late. With the way he snapped his hips into. A rumbling moan emanating up from his chest. It was far too obvious when the first gush of warmth overwhelmed you.
Full well past just what oozed out of you. The mixture of cum and juices soaked the two of you as Geto’s arms waivered a little. A moment of uncertainty if he was going to pull out and waste the gift he just gave you. Instead you yank him down on you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and loosely with your legs around his hips. Making it very obvious he was to stay in place on and in you.
Hand drawn down his back you ignore the sweat between his shoulder blades. Instead engrossed in the feeling of Geto’s cock still inside you and the heat of his chest against yours. Sighing softly to lay a kiss against his cheek you hug him a little tighter, “...you could have just said something you know.”
Exhausted and without a real witty reply. Geto had been saving this all week and now he was a little spent. Mumbling something but you didn’t hear.
The idea of being pregnant, with his child, making you smile more and more with each passing second. Even as cum dripped out of you. It was right away that you kissed the side of his head, “Looks like we gotta keep trying until you succeed huh.”
No question to it there was a twitch of excitement in all of his body. You knew neither of you would be happy now until Geto got what he asked for.
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sugarylawliet · 3 years
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no good for me (light yagami x reader)
i’m back lol
> warnings: smut, degradation, spit kink, inappropriate use of the death note, VERY toxic relationship, song fic kinda, lyrics are in bold and italics, based off of diet mountain dew by lana del ray
> tag list: @ygm1slt @cradiot28
❛ you’re no good for me, baby you’re no good for me ❜
Nothing on this earth scared you more than the man you were about to see; the pretty boy brunette flaunting good grades and a picturesque family life whose facade of ambitious, respectful young man was a mask almost no one could see through. Some people felt dread at the thought of spiders or snakes, felt fear in their stomach imagining the paranormal, shadow ghosts or criminal stalkers invading their comfort zones. None of these perfectly rational fears scared you the way Light Yagami scared you. There was no fear to be had at the thought of something undesirable creeping its way into your privacy or comfort zone, because Light had manipulated his way into your comfort and trust long ago. He was scarier than a murderer ready to kill at an urge’s call, his blood lust hid in shadows behind his golden boy facade, his words were tools and his touches were negotiations. You couldn’t trust a single thing that came from his mouth, you often questioned your own sanity. Light Yagami had a terrifying grip on you, and it was exactly what he wanted.
Your eyes scan over the text Light had sent you for the millionth time, the words almost ingrained in your head at this point.
Come to my house. We need to talk. 
You were sure he kept his words vague on purpose, yet another tactic to keep you at his disposal out of pure fear. You weren’t exactly sure if you loved Light anymore; what was your definition of love at this point? You loved him, yes, but was it out of obligation? Was it survival instinct?
It was true, in the beginning you had loved Light purely and truly. You believed his ambition was justice, to make the world a better and safer place for you. But as time went on, “Kira doesn’t kill innocents” began racking up more and more exceptions, and as the twisted justifications spilled from his mouth, so did the gaslighting. Over and over, his sweet words convinced you to keep coming back. His empty promises were a drug and you were addicted. 
His text, you were sure, was a reference to this fizzling out of your love for him. He could sense it, and surely he must have found out you were planning on leaving. You weren’t planning on revealing that he’s Kira- that would cause more commotion you were not interested in being a part of- no, you simply wanted to move states, get away and forget about Light Yagami, forget about Kira and Ryuzaki and Ryuk and everything that has overtaken your life. However, if he did find out your plans to skip town, you may just have to reveal that he’s Kira for safety measures.
❛ you’re no good for me, but baby i want you ❜
Hestiently, you opened the door you had been staring at blankly for what felt like hours. Light had been staying in an upscale hotel during the investigation, so maybe the other tenants could hear you if you screamed for help; the overdramatic thought brought you comfort. 
You walk in the room, closing the door behind you. You’re met with the sight of Light’s back as he sits in the rolling chair across the room. In the absence of any words, without even seeing his face, you know he’s mad. Every slight change of Light’s emotions could strangle a whole room by tension alone; his aura manipulated the feeling in the air, which served as a helpful alarm to know when he is upset. And man, is he upset.
You open your mouth to greet him, but he cuts you off, spinning around in his chair to face you, “Don’t talk.” You nod and close your mouth. Why do you even listen to what he says?
“I knew I couldn’t trust you. From the very beginning I knew you would run that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you’re planning on leaving. And then what? Telling the first news outlet you see that I’m Kira?”
“No Light,”
“I said don’t talk.” He stands up from his chair, “If you tell everyone, you’ll also have to tell on yourself. Imagine what everyone would think of you if they knew...You knew I was Kira and you still dated me, you defended me, you kept my secret, you even got on your knees for me. Are you gonna tell that to the media? That you let Kira fuck you?”
You purse your lips, restraining yourself from talking back. You knew it would only make things worse, but you couldn’t stand the way he talked down on you and expected you to take it. 
“Come here.” He motioned to his desk and you followed, sitting on his lap per his instruction. He placed the death note open on the desk, handing you the pen. With one hand gripping yours and the other on your hip, he began to guide your hand, the pen spilling out the first letter of your name on the pages.
❛ do you think we’ll be in love forever? ❜
“N-No, Light, you can’t do this, please.” You begged, your heart rate quickening as you realize what he was doing. It can’t end like this, it just can’t.
“Shhh, just write. That’s it, baby. This is what bad girls get, you see?” His death grip tightened on your hand as he spelled out your name, the last letters leering closer and closer before you could register the implications of what he was doing. This was it, this was really it.
Light lets his free hand wander up to your jawline, pulling your face closer to yours and enveloping you in a kiss as he wrote the last letter of your name. You shake your head with a whine, however he disregards your concerns and runs his hand on your upper thigh. 
“What’s the matter, Y/n? Don’t wanna spend your last moments with me?~” His nose kisses your neck, and the soft, sensual gestures almost make you forget your life was quite literally slipping away at every second that ticked by. 40 seconds. You had 40 seconds to do something.
You jump off of Light’s lap, reality rushing to your lungs as you felt your world closing in. Your pants become heavier, harsh air ripping through your throat as if they were the last breaths you would ever take because, well- they were.
Your head felt buzzing and dizzy as you fell to your knees, crawling towards Light who had spun around in his chair so his back was facing you; completely apathetic. After all you’ve been through together, after all you’ve done for him, nothing. Nothing at all. 
You crawl closer, grasping towards the notebook Light held in his hands, your weakness limiting your reach as anxiety stole your clearness of mind. He only  chuckles at your meek attempts to save your own life. Your head was racing as your nervousness blacked out everything in the room except for the little black notebook your boyfriend had a death grip on; ‘I’m running out of time, I’m going to die, I need the death note, I need to cross my name out, I need it I need it I need it I-’
“Goodbye, Y/N. You were fun to play with for a while.” Light kisses your nose with an arrogant smirk, peeling your hands off from his lap and wrists before checking his watch, signaling your last few seconds. 
You quit your pitiful attempts to grab the notebook and instead push yourself further and further away from Light until your back hit the wall, lacing your fingers tightly in your hair as you cried your last moments away. 
“5, 4, 3 2...” Light spoke.
“No no no no no, please god,” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation for the pangs you would soon feel in your chest.
“1...”
And
Nothing.
You breathe. You let the air flood your lungs; it shouldn’t be possible. You dare to open your eyes, revealing the same scene. You, pathetically on the floor with tears down your face, Light before you in his chair with his head thrown back in a maniacal laugh. 
He tossed the death note down to you, like a dog being thrown a bone. You frantically grab it and flip to the newest page, your name scratched out with two thick lines. 
You were alive- no, he let you live.
❛ hit me my darling tonight, i don’t know why but i like it
“Well?” Light asks expectingly, standing up from his chair and kicking it to the side of the room. You look up at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as tears still brimmed your eyes from the just-curved anxiety attack.
“No ‘thank you’? I spared your life even after you betrayed me- lied to me. You’re so ungrateful.”
“I, I-” You found it difficult to shape your words with your hitching breath. You inhale deeply, eyes closed, calming down, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Light.”
Why were you even apologizing?
“I’m so sorry, please, just take me back. I’m sorry.” The words spilled from your mouth so quickly simply because they felt right. You needed to apologize, you did wrong, you need to be good. You wanted him back more than anything so you can be good.
❛ scary, my god, you’re divine ❜
“That’s right,” Light smiled, his voice softening unnaturally, “Now, how about you come over here and show me just how sorry you are.”
You hesitate for a second before crawling over to him. You sit obediently with your legs beneath your thighs on the floor in front of him.
“Mm, that’s my babygirl.” He pets your head affectionately, coherencing a smile from you. Despite everything he’s done, he always knew how to reel you back in. You needed the approval. You needed his approval.
You look up at him with puppydog eyes, to which he cocks his head to the side. “You know what I want.”
Nodding, you slowly unzipper his khaki pants and pull out his cock. You run your hand up and down, pumping it slowly. 
“Don’t be a fucking tease” Light scoffs, raking his fingers through your hair and forcing your mouth down onto him. That sweet, caring demeanor was gone in barley a second- of course it was. What were you expecting? It was a thinly veiled facade and you fell for it everytime without exception. 
Light groans, pushing your head further onto him as you try not to gag. You feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat as he thrusts into your mouth faster. “God, Y/N, you take my cock so well. Hah, if only the media could see you now. Poor little Y/N wants to run away from big bad Kira, meanwhile here she is on her knees for him, sucking him off like the dirty slut she is.”
He lets out a deep sigh before pulling out of your mouth. “Be useful for once and get on the bed.” He commands, bringing you to your feet with his strong grip on your hair and pushing you in the direction of the bed. You obey, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for his next instruction.
Light slinks over to you, standing over your figure as his delicate fingers dance up your inner thigh. He takes off your skirt and slowly rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties.
“Mmm, Light, more...” You buck your hips up to meet his touch, his movements were agonizingly slow and you needed more friction.
“More?” At once he removes his hand from between your legs and grabs your face, your jaw in between the tight hold of his thumb and forefingers. “You want more, huh? You don’t get to make demands of me. You really think i’m gonna give you what you want after that stunt you pulled? Hah, I’m not letting you off that easy.”
You let out a whine, bucking your hips again asking to be touched.
“Aww, poor baby...” Light cooed, “Open up.” You obeyed, opening your mouth before Light brought your face closer to his, spitting in your mouth. “Now swallow.”
You do, earning a smirk from Light. “Mm, good girl. Good girls get rewarded.”
He pulls your panties aside before dipping two slender fingers inside you; wasting no time, he pumps them in and out frantically.
“Oh god Light, fuck,”
“You’re so wet for me Y/N, you like this, don’t you? I knew you would, such a dirty whore. You like when I treat you like this? You like being treated for the slut you are? God, you probably got wet when I almost killed you. It makes me hard, having you under my thumb like this, under my control...”
“Fuck Light, it feels so good, I’m close...”
Quickly, he removes his fingers from you once again, earning a cry from you at the loss of heat. “Please Light, I need you so bad,” You beg.
“What did I say? You’re still not forgiven for that stunt you pulled. Don’t whine.” He wraps his hand around your throat, pushing you down onto your back.
He fully pulls his boxers down, aligning himself with your entrance.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, please light, god, I need it so badly. I want you.”
“Hmm, yeah? You’re so desperate for my cock? I’m not convinced.”
“Please, Light, I’ll never be bad again, I’ll never mess up again. I need your cock so badly, I need you to use me. Do anything you want.”
“Mm, that’s more like it,” Light remarks before pushing into you, earning a loud moan. HIs thrusts were slow, no doubt teasing you.
“Oh, Light, please, faster...”
“More demands? God, you’re such a needy slut. Fine.” His grip on your throat tightens, pushing you further into the bed as he snaps his hips into you without mercy. His pace is relentless, quickly finding your g-spot.
“Fuck, Light. It... it feels- fuck,”
“Hah, stupid slut, what’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue? Or is it me fucking you so hard you can’t even think straight, can’t form sentences?”
His words only egg on your approaching orgasam, “Hmmph, it- it feels so good. I’m gonna...”
With that, Light pulls you up slightly by your neck before slamming you roughly back into the bed, thrusting into you with speed. “Cum, show me how sorry you are.”
You obey, releasing with a loud moan of his name. He finishes soon after, roughly letting go of your throat. “Clean yourself up. You look like a fucking mess.”
You slip your panties and skirt back on as Light sits apathetically at his desk, his focus buried in paperwork. You heart skinks to your stomach. 
Once you finish dressing, Light allows you to leave, informing you of the Kira case work he had to finish and opening the door for you. 
“And Y/N,” He catches your attention before you step into the hallway of the hotel, “Let this be a lesson. Don’t ever try to leave me again. You’re mine.” He grabs your jaw and kisses you tenderly- but you weren’t stupid. You knew the motivation behind it, and let you still kissed his soft lips back and let yourself melt into him. 
“Goodbye,” He remarks after pulling away, “Behave yourself.”. The door slams in your face. 
You can still feel his cum dripping from your heat daring to spill out of your panties. The hallway was empty, allowing reality to rush to you at once. Your senses only seem clear when you were alone- with Light, you didn’t see with your own eyes or hear with your own ears.
You let your back touch the door of Light’s hotel room, slowly sliding down until you were sitting on the carpeted floor. Your life was broken pieces and you cut yourself picking up the glass shards, relishing in the fact that your boyfriend liked the way the blood looked on your pricked fingers.
❛  hurt me and tell me you’re mine, i don’t know why but i like it. ❜
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fundamentally-lazy · 3 years
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Compliment
I had an idea for a smut fic that was so filled with Dom!Dewey goodness and praise and edging - that i had no choice but to write it my own damn self. Dewey x fem!reader
@go-commander-kim, @heresathreebee and @hoodoo12 the smut muses themselves - I hope I made you proud.
You did not want to be there, but you stayed, playing the supportive wall flower girlfriend. His colleagues were nice enough, and you were warm and cordial you just did not initiate conversation. There was a few small talks with some parents “my son just raves about him”, “my daughter won’t stop ranting about how there aren’t enough girl groups in the punk genre because Finn showed her,” (You recommended The Slits to show her daughter). Your brain was being loud, you were worried you would say something dumb and embarrass him so you kept it to the state of the weather and how are you for the most part.
“Are you okay baby?” Dewey whispered to you as he kissed your head. You smiled and nodded trying to assure him. You were having a bad anxiety day, just a little more keyed up than usual. So you put on a brave face for him, because you knew he would do the same for you. “You sure? We don’t have to be here,”
“I’m sure, it's okay,” you pressed. “Look, there’s Freddie’s father you said you wanted to talk to him about a donation for a soundboard - go,” with a flash of “We will talk about this later” he turned around and greeted Mr. Jones. That should get him off your back while you calm yourself down. There was wine but you did not touch it, so cold water for you it was. After an hour or so, despite the compliments on your outfit and the comments about Dewey just “lit up” whenever he talked about you, you sat down and let the scene play out. You grinned and said thank you but your brain would not let you enjoy it, it just kept yelling back at what an embarrassment you were and how they were only nice to you on his behalf.
“Baby,” he said putting his arm protectively around your waist. “We’d better get going, it’s kind of late,”
“Only if you want to,”
“We’re going,” he said with finality. Out of habit, you swallowed back a yes sir, and got your coat.
On the drive home, he kept his hand on your thigh.
“It’s okay baby,” he soothed. “You did great tonight, and you look killer, really,”
“Thanks, hon,”
“Seriously, are you okay? You seemed pretty keyed up,” he asked.
“Honestly, yeah I’m just- I didn’t get a lot of sleep and I don’t know, my brain is - loud.” You fumbled for an explanation.
“I see,” he said as he pulled into the driveway. He sent you ahead, as you unlocked the door he pushed back your hair and placed gentle kisses on the back of your neck. When he felt you relax, he carried on getting in that little spot behind your ear. Making you melt a little as you both fumbled into the house. You turned around as you kissed him, taking off your sweater and dropping your purse.
“You are gorgeous,” he muttered between kisses, you pulled away and focused on undressing him. “Hey,” he stopped. He held your face forcing you to meet his gaze; “Look at me,” you did. “How’d I get so lucky?” You sighed and smiled as if to say “you’re too much”. “Go, in there put on that outfit I love, and wait for me in bed.” Oh, you gathered. It’s that kind of night, got it. “Go on baby, do it for me?” You turn around and do as you’re told.
He came back in a few minutes later, taking in the sight of you, and smiling at the sight. You propped yourself up on your knees, showing him the whole outfit. He walked up to you, charged more like, and kissed you deeply. Dewey laid you down getting on top of you. You reached for his t-shirt trying to pull it off, but he shrugged you off as he kissed his way down your torso, stripping the lace panties off you. You ran your fingers through his hair as h cradled your thigh kissing all the way down to your folds.
He began to work on you the way you liked as you gave a sigh, his tongue going in a zigzag motion as he circled your clit. You let out a whimper, as he went lower letting his nose get your clit as he dove his tongue inside you. Letting you squeeze and flutter around him. But he knows you though, he knows when you are close.
“Oh God, oh…” you gasped your voice hitching. “Oh fuck baby,” gripping and pulling his hair. As if it were an afterthought, he began peppering kisses up your other thigh, you let out a whimper of disappointment. “Please? Please, sir can I-?”
“No sweetheart, not yet, you can’t cum until you answer a question for me,” he muttered in your ear, gripping your face right under your chin. He let go of you to undress. Still straddling you, he pulled his t-shirt over his head, leaning over you again, pinning your hands over your head, grinding against your hips as he bit and kissed your neck. “Who’s my good girl?” He growled in your ear, instead of answering you slithered your way to get on top, pulling his pants off. You kissed his neck, as he flipped you over replacing his hand on your throat. Shaking his head at you in a warning, you opened your mouth in an offer. “No baby, answer me,” his fingers found your clit. You spread your legs wider letting your moans and sighs let loose as you rut against him.
“Please!” You whined, stamping your foot on the mattress. “Just let me cum,”
“You like my fingers?” You nodded eagerly. “You want your toy instead?” Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as you adamantly shook your head no.
“Want you,” you breathed grabbing his hips. “I want you,”
“Maybe I’ll give you a little incentive,” he said as he pushed into you, aggravatingly slow. You squeezed and clenched around him and you could tell that he was having a hard time making his point. “Now,” one singular thrust. “Who’s my good girl?” He carried on, very slowly. “You can come as soon as I hear it, I’ll fuck you just like you like,” you fought back, pushing against him, trying to get some relief. “Do you want to come baby?” There was a warning to his voice.
“Yes,” you whimpered so frustratedly, it wasn't like you to act like a brat.
“Then don’t fight me,” he said with finality. “Do as I say, or I get up, and you can’t use your toys, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” you grumbled. He lifted your legs higher on his hips as he pounded you a little faster the angle letting him go deeper.
“That’s it,” he hissed. “Who’s my good girl?”
“Muh-me,” you breathed, in reward he escalated his rhythm, gripping your ass as he pounded you. "I am, I am, oh god," Your noises increased and all there was left was breath, and pleasure, and please Dew don’t stop. He turned you over for doggy style, gripping your hair as he grunted “who’s my good girl?” You dutifully answered. “Me,” the second time he made you say it, was hard. But not as hard as the first time, you were notoriously not good with compliments. Admitting you were anything but just okay was not easy for you. Dewey slapped your ass once, as he carried on his rhythm, his hips slapping against you as he hand readjusted into your hair.
Who’s my good girl?
Me.
He twisted his hips in a way that hit your favorite spot just right. When you came you saw stars. He was not far behind you as he spilled into the condom dropping net to you, you were shaking and trying to catch your breath. He held you, kissed your head, as you tried to come down.
“I know you did not want to be there today,” he mentioned as he smoothed the hair off of your face. “But I want you to know I appreciate it, I really do, but baby you do not need to put on a brave face for me honey, nothing is worth you being in that state. But you did so well, and everyone loved you,” you smiled at him nestling in his arms as he held you tighter, pulling the cool bedsheets over you both.
“All for you,” you whispered.
“You’re my good girl,” he says into your hair as you fall asleep.
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y0itsbri · 3 years
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inspired by the 'twilight girl' sticker on the gallagher family laptop:
it's 2012 and breaking dawn part 2 is finally in theatres. debbie had read all the twilight books and she was adamant seeing the movies in theatres. ian ended up taking both debbie and carl since fiona had picked up a late night shift. one of the teenagers who worked at the theatre owed a favor to lip for writing some paper in school, so the gallagher kids managed to slip in for free with a bucket of popcorn for debbie, dots candy for ian, and a large mountain dew for carl... as if the kid needed any more energy.
carl complained about having to watch some girly romance movie, but ian was like "hey bud, at least there's cool vampires and werewolves and shit." ian was secretly excited for the new movie, as he was team jacob and had been for years, but no one needed to know that. he would let people just think he was just acting like a good big brother by taking his younger siblings.
after a pretty uneventful first hour or so of ineffectively shielding carl's eyes from the sex scene and not-so-subtly admiring taylor lautner's body, there was one new vampire in particular that caught ian's eye. either his dots candy was laced with some hallucinogenic shit or this vampire looked exactly like mickey. ian knows he's whipped to the guy and had been missing him a little extra hard since he got locked up in juvie again, but hell if this doesn't look like his best friend. like holy fucking shit this was ridiculous. mickey would lose his shit if he knew he had a vampire doppelgänger of all things.
after the movie, ian was left to herd a nearly sobbing debbie and a hyped up carl out of the theatre and back to the gallagher house. he still couldn't shake the image of vladimir aka mickey the vampire.
after mickey had gotten out of juvie and the boys were hanging out on the abandoned rooftop one night smoking a joint, ian decided to bring up the whole vampire look alike situation. "mick, i swear to god he looked exactly like you except he was like super blonde and had like the whole fuckin' accent. wait, oh my god, can you do the accent? please, can you do-" "jesus christ man, if anything it just sounds like you just missed my ass too much, seeing my face everywhere you looked. i think i would've remembered if i was a fuckin' vampire." "i'm not saying you were a vampire but ya gotta see it. the resemblance is un-fucking-canny." "yeah, well outta the two of us, my money was on you being the vampire with your pale ass." "oh fuck off."
they let it go for the night, but ian simply did not let it go altogether.
"enough with the fuckin' vampire talk, man. i can't believe you actually saw that movie in theatres and i ain't buying your whole 'debbie made me' excuse." "aw c'mon, mick! i mean, it is kinda sexy though..." "oh. is this a fucking thing now, gallagher? hold up, is it because the bleached hair reminds you of justin fuckin' timberland or whatever the fuck." "it's justin timberlake thank you very much. wait, how did you..." "...whadda ya think, einstein?" "fuckin' mandy." "there ya go." "traitor."
ian might not have been the best at math, but one could say he was a geography kid. with a map on the gallagher shower curtain of all places, he was bound to remember some shit. "hey mick, your family is from ukraine, right?" mickey hardly looks up from the magazine he had been reading as they worked their shift at the kash and grab, "who wants to know?" ian rolls his eyes, "i'm taking that as a yes. anyways, it turns out that romania is like right next to ukraine. isn't that cool?" mickey narrows his eyes in suspicion, "what're you gettin' at, gallagher?" ian bites his lip to hold back a laugh and put on a thick transylvanian accent instead, "are you sure you're not a vampire here to suck my blood?" mickey was just close enough to sucker punch him in the arm, "fuckin' weirdo. but i mean... not blood..." as his gaze lowered and he dropped his magazine as ian turned to lock the door.
years later, some random television channel was having a twilight marathon day and no one had bothered changing the channel. ian and mickey had just returned from their long day of shenanigans. mickey passed through the living room without a second glance as he went to head to the fridge for a beer, but an hand gripped his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "oh my god. mickey. it's on." "what's on? what the fuck are you talkin' about?" just then, mickey heard a thick transylvanian accent coming from the tv and his jaw dropped. "holy fuck. you've gotta be kidding me." "right!" he had to admit the resemblance was un-fucking-canny.
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Text
Crashing | Jurdan Fake Hating One Shot
Written for: @poeticbrownmermaid​ for my 1k celebration!
Massive thank you to: @clockworkgraystairs​ and @sweetlyvillainous​ for beta reading this and holding my hand before I posted 🥺❤️
Summary: You’ve heard of fake dating. Get ready for fake hating. It’s all very romantic.
Rating: M/E for explicit language and a short, soft focus smut scene (a steam scene, if you will). The sexy parts start and stop after the ☽☽ in case you want to skip.
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“You taste—” I’m cut off by my own giggle, which rises to my lips like my mouth is a glass and my laugh is the Champagne they’re serving at this dumb party. “You taste like bubblegum.”
Cardan looks at me funny, then snorts. “What?”
His eyes are beguiling when they’re amused. Even more beguiling when they’re amused and looking at me. They are dark intoxication. They compete against the night sky for vastness. I could swallow them whole.
We’re on the terrace under the stars outside his fancy-pants mansion. I’m sitting on the stone railing, my knees bracketing his lithe frame. His hands and lips are breathless effervescence on me.
I’m in a daring dress of red satin that I would’ve never chosen for myself had Oriana not insisted on finding us girls a tailor. It’s an elegant, backless number with an audacious slit up the side. The whole time before this in the ballroom, I could sense Cardan’s eyes eating it up while he pretended to hate me.
In this dress, I am a femme fatale spy from a film, meeting her tryst in the secret of shadows. Which is honestly not too far off from the reality of the situation, though I am no spy.
Cardan ghosts one hand up the exposed skin of my thigh. The night air is bracing as his touch.
“Jude,” he murmurs, “Are you drunk?”
He’s in a rakish black velvet suit with two blood-red rubies dangling from the pointed tips of his collar. It is decadence and sin given form. The first hour of this hell party was just that: Hell. By the time Cardan pressed a napkin into my palm with the words “Terrace. 10 min.” scrawled on it in smeared ink, I was beginning to glare at him in earnest—if only for the way he must’ve known he was teasing me.
Now, we’re making out behind two conveniently tall potted plants.
It’s all very romantic.
“I had one glass of wine, Cardan,” I say. I slide my hands from his hair and scrape my nails lightly down the column of his neck. It is heady, watching his eyes shutter. My hands slide down his chest and take up his lapels. I give them a firm tug. “I’m fine.”
“Well, I,” he says, lips hovering over my own, “Don’t believe you.” His breath fans across my face. It really does smell like bubblegum. And not the minty kind, either. I’m talking bright pink and bubblicious.
I lean back a little and stick my bottom lip out in a mock-pout. “Why not?”
“For starters,” he says, “You’re a lightweight.” He trails that damned hand down my exposed thigh again.
I shiver. “So? I also ate like twenty of those canopy things.”
“Canapés?” Cardan smirks.
“Yeah, whatever, Your Highness.”
He flashes me a grin and I’m briefly stricken into silence. “Then, what have you to say to your unprecedented giddiness this evening, Your Majesty?”
“Ew, don’t call me that.” I grimace. “I just called you ‘Your Highness’.”
“What? Scared of the implication?”
“Uh, yeah.” My brows shoot up on my forehead. “Mainly because it implies that I’m your mother.”
Cardan’s face goes slack. “Shit, really?”
I nod and bite back my grin.
“I thought they were interchangeable.”
“About as interchangeable as a fork and a spoon.”
He sputters a laugh. “Shows what I know about royalty.”
“You realise how ironic that is, don’t you?” I say, nodding pointedly in the direction of the party.
It goes on without us, spilling its mirth in great golden shafts out onto the terrace. It doesn’t touch us, though. The air is cool, clear of the preening bullshit that so regularly lathers these kinds of events. And though he makes me dizzy, Cardan is the only real thing here.
I think I like parties better this way. From the shadows. In there, we’d have to talk to people, explain ourselves. We’re supposed to hate each other. We were always supposed to hate each other.
A smile plays at the corners of Cardan’s lips as if he’s gleaned these thoughts of mine. “You haven’t answered my question.”
I narrow my eyes. “You think I’m too giddy to not be drunk.”
“Mhmm.” He nudges his nose against mine. “I’ve never heard you giggle before.” A slender finger tracks up my spine and it takes a considerable amount of concentration not to squeeze my thighs together. Goosebumps and a flush spring to my skin, anyway. “It’s delightful,” he tells me.
“Well, maybe you should work on your sense of humour.” My voice comes out shakier than I want it to.
“Maybe,” Cardan says, grabbing the back of my knee and hitching it up. “But that sounds like effort.”
I want to roll my eyes. This is exactly the reason we used to hate each other. His laziness, his arrogance, and entitlement made me want to punch him clean across his pretty cheekbones. I know my stubbornness and sharp tongue made him hate me right back.
Yet, when our worlds crumbled around us, we found ourselves crashing into each other. Entwined in a thicket of mutual understanding. Suddenly, there was so very little to hate.
We pretend to in public to keep up appearances. Everyone knows we hated each other. If we started being friendly around everyone else, people would talk. That’s the last thing we want. Even if they’d technically be right.
In private, though, Cardan is probably my most closely held secret.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s still annoying as all hell. Like right now. But I’ve always liked a challenge.
I hook my leg around his back, pulling him in. My fingers card through his hair again. “I can be delightful in other ways,” I say, biting my lip.
His eyes lower to my mouth. “Oh, I’m well aware.” Cardan’s voice comes out a rasp. He cants my chin with the crook of his finger, pulling my lip from between my teeth with the pad of his thumb. He looks at me with undiluted lust. The weight of his gaze is like a dizzying nightmare.
Then, he devours me.
Our mouths slide together, slowly at first, but building in fervor. Hot and heavy, like a fever. His grip on my thigh is bruising. His other hand splays across my bare back, crushing me to him, long fingers twining in my hair. Everything turns saturated and slow.
I invade his mouth with my tongue, determined to drink him up. He tastes like bubblegum and our reconciliation. At the same time, I hook my other leg behind him so he’s pressed flush against the apex of my thighs. ☽☽
A muffled groan rolls between his teeth. “Fuck, Jude.” Cardan is growing firm beneath his trousers. The feel of it sends a curl of sweet desire, dark and throbbing, through my core.
“You’re going to have to be quieter than that,” I tease. I’m so featherbrained on the savour of his mouth, his liquid touch. My veins feel full of amber liquor instead of blood. I know I’m not drunk, and yet I feel it.
His fingers drawl back up my leg. “The question is, dear,” he says, “Can you be quiet?” The coolness of his hands sends a shock along the heat of my inner thigh.
I realise where he’s going with this and my breath hitches. My cheeks blaze. “Yes,” I tell him, though I don’t sound as confident as I should for such a high stakes rendezvous.
“Hmm,” Cardan thrums. “We’ll see about that.”
His fingers are deft and twice as sly. He hisses through his teeth when they glide over me, exploring.
As a steady rain, he begins my unravelling. His mouth covers mine, swallowing a soft whimper that escapes my throat. I want to moan his name, to curse aloud, but I can’t if we’re to stay hidden.
The thought is both terrible and exciting at once.
Cardan keeps a torturous pace. I cling to him, panting, clutching at his arms, clawing at his back. His mouth roams my jawline. His teeth tug my ear. My mind is frenetic, frenzied, and at once thick in a viscous haze.
All I can think about is how this party is so stupid and soul-sucking, but Cardan is the farthest thing from stupid and soul-sucking. About how he makes me feel very much alive. About how I like him more than anyone here, probably more than even myself.
His other arm wraps certain and solid around me as he spins my world on its side. I lean my forehead on his shoulder. He kisses my neck. I can’t help the gasps that leave me.
My heart is racing. So quickly does it pump, in time with his ministrations, I think I might turn to white lightning in a bottle before all is said and done.
I know it when I’m drawing towards that precipice. My toes curl and flex. My legs begin to quiver. My knees lock up.
“Cardan,” I gasp. “Please.”
“Can you be quiet for me, Jude?” Cardan murmurs rough against my ear. He sounds a little breathless, too.
I am so muddled, I am so close. I can only manage a soft sob in response. Now he’s doubling his efforts and oh, gods is he clever.
I bite his shoulder to keep from making a sound as I shoot over the edge, a wondrous arc so high I’m sure I scrape the stars of their dust.
My hips writhe against his palm. I pull and rake my fingers through his hair as I spiral through the five stages of sweet delirium.
He holds me through it. Presses his lips to my hair and whispers what I think must be comforting things into my ear. I can’t tell because I’m incapable of comprehending much of anything beyond myself in his arms. He strokes soft circles over my back until it’s done. ☽☽
When everything settles, I’m still clinging to him, my forehead against the sureness of his shoulder. A sheen of sweat dewing my skin.
I’ve always hated this part about intimacy. The aftermath. Everything is too quiet. The excitement is gone. You’re faced with the reality of looking at each other without the rosy filter of lust. Maybe you’ll see each other for who you really are, and that’s a scary thought.
That’s probably how I felt once with Cardan, too. Back when we started…whatever this is. But now, in this moment with him, it feels less vulnerable and more like holding someone’s hand as you stare upon something a little terrifying.
Which is why I’m able to look up at him and ask in every manner of seriousness, “Why do you taste like bubblegum?”
His responding laugh is gentle and he shakes his head. “One-track mind,” he says. I shrug and wait.
“They’re serving bubblegum cocktails at the bar inside.”
My nose crinkles. “You actually drank one of those?”
“Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“No, I think I’ll sleep quite soundly if I never do.”
Cardan gives me an awful kind of grin that makes my toes curl anew. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” he says, then tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “I happen to like bubblegum cocktails.”
I give him a dubious look. I can’t help but feel that maybe we’re not talking about bubblegum cocktails anymore.
For a long moment, we just sit there staring at each other. There’s a bloom of laughter from inside the house. The clink of glasses. His eyes trace the lines of my face. I still feel drunk on him and he’s looking at me too soberly.
So I say, “You have shit taste, then,” and hop off the railing. I side-step him before beginning the task of smoothing down my dress. If I walk back into the party all flushed and disheveled, people will know what I’ve been doing—which is almost as bad as if people knew who I’ve been doing.
“Oh, you can’t say that dear,” Cardan lilts as he leans back against the balcony with all the insouciance of someone who lives in this ridiculous mansion. And rightly so, because he does. “Not when you taste equally delicious.” Then he brings his fingers, the ones that have just been inside me, to his mouth and closes his lips around them, burning gaze locked on mine.
My eyes go wide. My jaw slacks as I watch him. I’m somewhere between affronted by his audacity and completely turned on again. Which is a confusing place to be.
He laughs at my probably very foolish expression and I turn on my heel to head back to the party. I’m not actually offended. I just can’t bear to look at him while he’s tasting me off his fingers without combusting on the spot.
Cardan grabs my wrist. “Wait, wait,” he says, still laughing.
I arc a brow and turn to face him. “I’m waiting.”
“I’m sorry,” he says and sounds earnest enough. “It’s just… you make me giddy, too.”
His words are a punch to the gut. I hadn’t realised it until he said it, but it’s true. It’s not the way he kisses me or the high of a climax, though those are surely nice things, too. It’s the way I feel when we’re together. Just his presence makes my head swim, my stomach turn flips.
He makes me feel a little bit invincible, and entirely beyond reason.
I look at him, the warm glow of the party playing off the sharp angles of his face. He’s still holding my hand, fiddling with the ruby ring I always wear.
On the crest of a breath, Cardan says, “Stay tonight.”
“Why?” I whisper, because we’ve never spent the night. I’m not sure we’d even know how.
“Because I’ll miss you terribly?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “I think you’ll survive.”
“Because you’ll miss me terribly.”
“Oh, I’ll definitely survive,” I say. Even as my heart gives a squeeze. I don’t want to leave.
Not yet, not yet.
“Because you’re too intoxicated to drive home,” he says.
“I took an Uber here, Cardan,” I tell him. “And for the last time, I’m not drunk.”
“I’m not saying you’re drunk, Jude.”
He’s not grinning at me, which I think is a good sign. It means he’s not hinting at something sexual. Then again, that might also be a very bad sign. It means he’s hinting at something deeper. I’m not sure I want to get into that conversation just yet.
“Fine,” I say. I do want to stay. The thought of it sends a little thrill through me. “Hate me for an hour more. We’ll have a big argument about… something. And then I’ll tell Madoc I’m leaving.”
His hands snake around my waist. “What will we argue about tonight?”
I smile at him sweetly. “If your head is half as cunning as your fingers, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Cardan hums. “I do love it when we’re at each other’s throats.”
I roll my eyes but I’m betrayed by my laugh for not the first time tonight. Stupid punch-drunk feelings.
☽☽☽☽☽
Enjoyed this? Try:  King  |  Wicked Game  |  We’re All Mad Here
Masterlist
AN: So this was supposed to be a drabble for my 1k celebration but my hand slipped and whoops! It’s 2.5K words. I really hope you enjoyed this secret tryst one shot. I had so much fun writing it. If you liked this and want to see more from me, comments and/or reblogs are very much appreciated!
I have a tag list so if you’d like to be added to that, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you! I also recently jumped on the Twitter/Instagram bandwagon. You can follow me @/rebelwriter23 on Twitter and @/slightlyrebelliouswriter23 on Instagram.
Back to the forest now. -Em 🖤💫
Title Inspo: Crashing- Illenium
Tag List: @velarhysismine​ @knifewifejude​ @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @thesirenwashere​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ @whocares-idont​ @babycardan @sweetlyvillainous​ @aesthetics-11​ @storiesandschemes​ @jurdanhell​ @poeticbrownmermaid​ @thechainofiron​ @random-llama-socks​ @villanellevi​ @lady-thea-of-narnia​ @b00kworm​ @flowersinvegas​ @vanessa172003​ @cardanstrickytail​ @queen-of-glass​ @doingmyrainbow​ @words-of-the-wise​ @scarznstars​ @charincharge​ @fizziefaerie​ @fateandluminary​ @tessas-herondales​ @styles-taylor​ @jyoti96​ @losssssstttttt​ @transbordeamento​ @katsemkitgostadetog @gloriouspalacebakerylawyer​ @woodsbeyond1​ @hizqueen4life​ @highqueenjudeduarte​ @m-like-magic1-blog​ @dorkzrul​ @whataboutmyfries​ @livelovereading123​ @queenofgreenbriar​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @lifeminuspickles​ @df3ndyr​ @christalpaez @aknymph​ @iammissstark​ @disco-tits1​ @star-flecked-soul​
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starcloud-nova · 3 years
Note
Favorite fics by some of your buddies on Tumblr and Discord?
God nonnie. You fucked up big time. You underestimated just how hard I can appreciate my friends. I’d like to formally apologize for how long and in-depth this got, but I would pick a stopping point and then go ‘oh! but i cant leave out so-and-so’ and then this got mega out of hand.
Organized by author and not genre! And if I didn’t include any of your works (or I did and it was not the one you wanted), please, don’t take it personally. I am trusting everyone who comes across this post to read the tags themselves, but for two of the fics I have left TWs in front of them.
Cassia’s fics:
Internet Enemies by @cassiopeia721 (x)
At school, Midoriya Izuku is ignored at best. At home, he's raised by a single mother who seems to be always taking night shifts, and who he communicates with almost exclusively through notes on lunch boxes and texts lying about his location. As such, Midoriya Izuku turns to the internet— or more specifically, an All Might fan server on discord— for companionship. Like most things in his life, it goes wrong eventually. It just takes longer than usual.
hypnic jump
Izuku finds himself somewhere he doesn't recognize in an oversized green jumpsuit with a hero he's never seen at his back. He's pretty sure he's dreaming, and subsequent events only solidify that theory into rock-solid certainty.
Paradigm Shift (Harry Potter)
Harry undergoes a paradigm shift at the beginning of his fifth year. (Slytherin Harry)
~~~
Kestrel’s fics:
Compass by @autisticmidoriyas (x)
Midoriya Izuku never had the chance to become a hero—or even to grow up. Fifteen years after his death, Akatani Izuku tries to save the life of a dying hero and in return receives a target painted on his back and a power humming in his bones.
All Might, Sir Nighteye, Ground Zero, Suneater, and Skyquake are left scrambling in the wake of Lemillion’s death to figure out who now holds One For All.
Intertwined with all this, the League of Villains’ war against Japan burns on. With the loss of Lemillion, the advantage is now theirs, and with the loss of One For All, victory is all-but-assured.
(What the villains don’t know is that One For All lives on in the blood of a boy who was always meant to be a hero.)
triskelion
A few seconds, and their lives—their life—is changed forever. Where three people used to exist, there is now only one.
While visiting the mall with their class, Izuku, Katsuki, and Shouto are the victims of someone whose quirk can fuse together objects … and people.
Permanently.
Facing down the fact that they may never be unfused, a long adjustment period lies ahead of them as they learn how to be themself and figure out where they fit into their families, their class, and their world.
the meaning of hope
One day, the smoke will reach its end. They hold out hope for that. Even with quirks, fires cannot burn forever. They will consume all their fuel, until there is nothing left, and they will wither and die.
~~~
Lilly’s fics:
Rise of the Rat Finks by Authoress_Lilly
“You're not in trouble Neito. You’ve been tapped to join The Rats.”
The boy blinks. “The what?”
Vlad opens up a folder and hands Monoma a flyer and a small pin in the shape of a rat. “It’s a sort of secret society here at UA.
Or: an excuse to put Monoma and Midoriya together in way too many words 😅
The Root to Villainy
Prompt: Izuku doesn't realize how fucked up his past was until Aizawa does an immersive class on villain origins.
Whoops?
~~~
Dance’s fics:
Never Take Your Problem Children To Costco by DanceInTheKitchen
“SECURE THE EGGS! I REPEAT SECURE THE EGGS!” Bakugou bellowed.
“YES SIR! AYE AYE SIR!” Izuku saluted.
Shouta is staring at his students, one of whom seems to be reenacting the Lion King with a carton of eggs while the other salutes him, and wonders. What the hell did he do in his past life to deserve this?? Past him must have committed some great sin, like putting sugar in his coffee, or being a dog person.
 Or, Aizawa, Bakugou and Midoriya walk into a Costco.
grow as we go
The dorms were silent, but out here in the open air, she felt both isolated and free. Isolated from the world, but free from the responsibility crushing her, isolated from her friends and family, but free from judgement. Up here, with only the stars and Iida as company, Momo felt like she could breathe.
They sat next to each other in silence, watching the stars silently crawl their way across the sky. Iida doesn’t break the silence, but he also doesn’t leave. It’s a silent promise, to listen if she needs it, or to keep her company if she doesn’t want to speak. It’s comforting.
She’s not sure when she speaks, it’s somewhere between staring up at the stars, and looking at the shiny dew covering the grass of the hills behind UA.
“I’m not ready.”
 Or, with graduation right around the corner, Momo has a conversation with Iida about what growing up means.
~~~
Azure’s fics:
A Helping Hand for All by azureskyy
Izuku doesn't know why everyone's talking about a certain hero analyst online. He's tried browsing through the forums and other sites, but he just can't find the person they're talking about.
Maybe he'll ask them later. For now, he has some analysis to do.
Or: Izuku is a well-known hero and quirk analyst across multiple social media platforms.
Not that he's aware of it, of course.
A Missed Chance
Two paths cross then diverge. In another universe, perhaps, they could have walked on the same path; they could have talked for the second time that day, and Izuku could have been given an opportunity that could change his entire life. And maybe, just maybe, he would have taken it.
But this isn’t that universe.
Or: What if All Might wasn't able to find Izuku after the Sludge Villain Incident?
~~~
Alice’s fics:
A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by @makeitbluue (x)
“Did you think you’d be safe from me forever? That you could chip away at my power base and I would not care or try to hunt you down?” The man asks as he steps forwards.
Izuku scrambles backwards in his bed, searching the covers as he goes for his phone. If he can get a text off to All Might or Aizawa-sensei he can alert people to the potential danger.
But even as he moves, something in the back of his mind tells him he had heard this voice before. A different time, a different context, but the same voice.
~~~
Ely’s fics:
bend and break by @queenangst (x)
In a world where you can feel your soulmate's pain, Eijirou spends a lot of his life up until meeting his soulmate hurting.
draw and quarter
In District Twelve, no one volunteers.
When Aizawa Shouta’s name is called, no one says a word. He stands there for a moment, feeling all the world slow around him, and then he straightens his shoulders and walks to his death.
He will die fighting. At the very least, Shouta can promise that.
Shouta's name is drawn for the Hunger Games, alongside Shirakumo Oboro. No one from their district has ever won.
damage control
After All for One's defeat, Aizawa Shouta is grasping for ways to protect his students. At the same time, a discrepancy in Midoriya's behavior leads Shouta down a dangerous line of investigation and to a single question: if Midoriya is the U.A. traitor.
Between the Wind and the Water
Staying at U.A. for winter break, Izuku hopes it'll be a quiet chance to spend the holidays with Todoroki and supervising teachers All Might and Aizawa-sensei.
It's just his luck a gift-shopping trip turns into a gift from a villain, and Izuku's new Half-Cold, Half-Hot Quirk is not so easy to control. Neither are the secrets he's been carefully keeping.
a glimpse of tomorrow (looking back)
Subject: Aldera Time Capsule Ceremony Forwarded Message— This year marks ten years for the Aldera Middle School graduating class of 20XX.To celebrate, we would like to invite pro heroes Kingpin and Deku, Aldera alumni, to participate in a public time-capsule opening. We are incredibly proud to have helped them on their journeys to becoming heroes, and would be most honored to receive them as guests and for them to speak at the ceremony. [...]
"Well," Deku says, leaning over to turn the monitor towards him. His eyes flick over the contents of the email one more time. "If they haven't changed, then I guess we could return the favor."
Ten years down the line, Bakugou and Midoriya are invited to a time capsule ceremony at their middle school to read letters from their past selves, and look back on their past and how it shaped their future. For anyone else, it would have been a celebration.
For the two of them, it's an opportunity.
A look into Bakugou and Midoriya's past—through a future neither of them imagined—as pro heroes, agency partners, and friends.
of the mighty heart
It was just complicated. Kacchan had changed. Izuku had changed. What was between them was constant—Kacchan was always there—but even constants, Izuku supposed, could change, too.
...You saved me, sometimes you say Deku and it doesn’t sound so much like an insult, you say it like you mean it, you say it like you mean me.
After the war ends and the dust settles, Izuku is left in pain and feeling useless. There's still so much to do and people to save, and it's just... too much for one person.
And then there's Kacchan.
~~~
Fawn’s fics:
Bough Breaks by @fawnvelveteen (x) (trigger warning for discussion of rape/noncon)
In life, nothing is certain. Pro-heroes aren’t always the good guys. Children are not spared from the darkest realms of humanity. Izuku isn't acting like his normal self at school lately, and his homeroom teacher has taken notice. After learning about the mother’s new, unwelcomed boyfriend, Aizawa’s concern shifts into dread. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep his student away from harm.
Almost Moon (trigger warning for suicide) (Black Clover)
It was always at night. One of Noelle's squadmates, apparently, believes it's a good idea to walk across the rooftop, directly over her head while she is trying to get some sleep. Finally, she decides to confront the nighttime nuisance. What she discovers is something she never expected, nor did she wish to see.
~~~
Nez’s fics:
The True Successor by @neko-nez (x)
Toshinori is caught in a time loop.
~~~
Aodh’s fics:
new game + (the pros of being over-leveled, the catharsis of finally beating That One Boss, and a bonus social link) by @takeyamayuu (x)
Izuku hasn’t been noticed yet, being as far from the fight as he is. Or if he has, they’re dismissing him in favor of the larger threat of Aizawa-sensei. As they should, since he takes out the last one with a well placed kick, turning to face Shigaraki,
Izuku tenses, this is-
This is where his teacher’s arm is injured and then-
The Nomu.
One for All spikes to around fifty percent, his muscles stinging, bones creaking as Izuku darts forward, aiming for Shigaraki’s head with an axe-kick.
Second year Midoriya Izuku gets hit with a Quirk, skids into the USJ, and learns a little about self-care along the way.
~~~
Ghost’s fics:
fingerpaint bruises and a kick in the teeth by @ghoststrawberries (x)
There’s a sour taste in Shouta’s mouth as he stares at Jackrabbit’s bright smile. The smile he’s wearing in every clear photo of him. It somewhat reminds Shouta of All Might’s smile.
Jackrabbit might be a menace to the Commission, but there’s no way Shouta can believe that a man with that smile is anything less than good to his core.
“And I’m your last resort to handle this quietly.” He says knowingly, keeping his thoughts to himself.
“Precisely.”
Shouta’s gut response is to refuse.
The words “I don’t kill.” are halfway up his throat before they become stuck.
As an underground hero, sometimes Shouta Aizawa is called upon to do darker jobs than one might expect a hero to have to do. This time, when he's tasked with taking out a vigilante who's managed to bother the Hero Public Safety Commission one too many times, he's not sure he'll be able to follow through.
~~~
Amira’s fics:
And Now I See Daylight by @awake-my-oceans (x)
AnalysisOverload Current mood: HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON
AnalysisOverload reblogged AnalysisOverload  Okay, let’s talk HeroCon. 
Look around, and you’ll see a lot of discrimination—against people whose Quirk is debilitating, against people whose Quirks scare us, against people who have trouble controlling their Quirk, against people who don’t have a Quirk at all. It’s easy to feel alone in a sea of discrimination.
Enter HeroCon:X.
A social media fic following Deku post-graduation.
The chaotic neutral’s guide to time travel
“You claim you are from the future,” Nedzu said, hopping onto his desk. “Do you have anything to prove this?”
Hitoshi fished around in his pocket. “Here’s my hero license,” he said, holding it up.
Nedzu opened his mouth, but Hitoshi kept right on going, producing a handful of odds and ends from his pocket. “Also a movie ticket, some dryer lint, some, uh, didn’t know I still had that but it’s old gum—“
That was when Aizawa walked in, capture weapon floating around him. “What’s the emergency?” he asked, clipped, as he kicked open the door.
“—and the left arm of a Deku plushie,” Hitoshi finished, unruffled. “My cat ate the rest.”
~~~
Aaaaaand that’s all I got. Thanks for making it to the end!
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wonnoy · 3 years
Text
confession time
hangout sesh with tanaka sounds like an amazing crush fanfic to write
[][][
warnings: none
you and tanaka at your near nightly hangout session
"Listen, all I want to say is you suck and that's the end of the story," you triumphantly said. Next to you was Nishinoya covered head to toe is discarded clothing passed out. In front of you was Tanaka rummaging through his closet and throwing clothing over his shoulder. Hence the fabric burial of your other friend.
Tanaka grunted at you, his butt out in the air and head in the closet, "and who gives you the authority to say that?" he threw another pair of shorts behind him. You laughed.
"Because you don't have a single crop top in your possession," you took a sip from the sprite in your hands. Tanaka heaved another sigh before finally coming out the closet fully, his hands on his hips.
"Strike a pose, vogue model," you swished your sprite and Tanaka played along with no hesitation. Him taking a few poses and you pretending to take pictures lasted for a couple more minutes.
Nights like these you lived for, no pressure from the day is ever carried with you when you come over to Tanaka's house. Sometimes it felt unreal.
Tanaka began rummaging through the pile on Noya and pulled out a white tee, "watch and learn y/n, then bask in my awesomeness," and he retreated to the tiny desk in the corner of his room. Of course the desk would be the smallest thing, he barely ever uses it. Even now it was loaded up with a whole bunch of crap that shouldn't, arguably, go on a desk.
You busied yourself with making a hole in the clothing pile so Noya could breathe while he slept. If he died while sleeping that really would have sucked, the three musketeers would be no more.
Behind you, you could hear Tanaka muttering behind you 'improvise, adapt, overcome' and you turned around confused. You were met with the sight of Tanaka in a crop top, crudely cut with the scissors in his left hand.
You wanted to laugh and by the gods did you laugh. The sound of your laughter rung in your own ears whilst you gripped your sides. And Tanaka wasn't making it any easier, with his consistent posing and flexing.
"Please- Please stop, I can't... I can't take it," you fell onto your back and finally Tanaka began laughing with you as well.
You looked at him after the laughter died down, you had to wipe tears from your eyes.
"Do my hips look big in this?" he did a quick turn and you had to chuckle again.
"A little yes," and he gasped.
"Do you think Kiyoko likes big hips?" he didn't look at you when he said, and it was a good thing that he didn't. You liked Kiyoko, she was nice and pretty, but being constantly reminded that Tanaka had a fat crush on her? That peeved you a little bit but you yourself weren't sure of why exactly.
It was just annoying best friend time was always interrupted with thoughts of her, that's all.
"I don't know I'm not Kiyoko," you turned away and shoved your sprite into your face to hide the discomfort. It was a good thing Noya was asleep, otherwise it would have been double the Kiyoko fanatics.
Tanaka was silent for a while before he came and sat down next to you with a huge sigh, "confession time, Kiyoko doesn't see me in that light and I don't know if she ever will," introduce dramatic wailing here. You rolled your eyes and finished the rest of your soda up.
You may not like talking about her too much around Tanaka, but best friend duties will be bestfriend duties.
"Listen, don't be an idiot," you paused, "well more than idiot you are already. Keep it up, maybe one day you'll be lucky," you smiled.
Tanaka grinned, "damn strai-"
You cut him off, "but tear them damn posters off, she'd hate those," you slapped him upside the head.
"But, but... you like them," he gave you the good ole' Tanaka whimper face.
You scoffed at him, "just because I don't say anything about them, doesn't mean I particularly like to stare at half-naked women, I like men," and went backwards to lay down on your back.
He sighed next to you before laying on his back as well, "damn, I liked Jessica though."
You shoved a pillow into his face and went onto the side where you weren't facing him.
"It's like 2 am, I'm sleeping,"
"Tomorrow morning I'll brush my teeth with mountain dew," he mumbled next to you. Now that's just nasty.
][][
Noya was the first one awake and blearily looked around the room. He barely registered Tanaka shoving his face into your neck and holding you from behind as if his life depended on it.
"Ah," then he fell right back asleep.
Tanaka woke up from Noya speaking and looked around the room sleepily, surveying the room like a dog. Assured that there wasn't anything in the room, he took his place back into your neck and snuggled even closer into your sleeping form.
You were always so warm.
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plush-rabbit · 4 years
Text
A Simple Wager
Tumblr media
Word Count: 3.8K
A/N: I swore to myself I was going to do the prompts but then I got this ask and another cute one and ah! Prompts will be out by the weekend! And so will a few other other stories!
"You really can't be serious about this." There's a strained smile on your face as you hold the headset in your hands. Your legs bounce as you sit on the bed, looking up at Tomura who sets up the gaming console.
"You lost." He has such a wide grin on his face that you're sure his face is hurting. "It was a bet."
"I didn't think you were serious!" You shriek, clutching the headset tighter. "I thought you didn't like sharing," you jab, giving him a pointed stare.
He takes a deep breath and a smile still lingers in his face. "I'm your leader-"
"Oh fuck you," you chuckle, shaking your head. "All right, Shigaraki," you emphasize his name with a roll of your eyes, "say that you use leadership on me, how well do you think that'll help our relationship when this-” you point between the monitor and you- “is over?"
"You act like you aren't excited," his tone playful, like this was a couple’s teasing rather than a bet that makes you burn in shame. He stands and makes his way towards you, leaning over and giving you a smile. 
"I- I'm not!" You jerk the headset and red eyes follow it as it lands near the pillows. He gives a raise of his eyes. "This-"
"You act like you don't get off on that voyeuristic shit," he cuts you off, making your mouth snap close. "Don't give me that look. I've seen you squirm and hump your hand while you watch people get fucked in public." He pulls away from you and grabs the headset in his hands. "Be happy I'm not doing this in public." 
"I-"
"Now hurry up. The raid is about to start." He holds the headset out to you and you take it in your shaky hands. 
"I thought you liked winning," you try to joke, a burning sensation on your face. When he tilts his head at you, you look away from his gaze. "I've never played this game Tomura. And even if I have, I doubt I'd be able to win while you," you clear your throat and look at him for a moment, "you know."
"Fuck you?" He fills the blank for you and you smack his arm. 
"Yes," you nod your head.
"While it is irritating that I'll be losing," he rubs at his neck and you click your tongue, "I also get to fuck you- so I think it's a win.” He gives you a wicked grin and his eyes glint with something dangerous. “Now, let’s start.”
You place the headset on, adjusting the mic and clearing your throat. “They can hear me?” You walk towards the desk which has been rearranged, the computer on the short side, the rest of the space having been cleared for you to rest on. 
“Yes.” His hands hold onto your waist and his hand slides to your sex, fingers pressing carefully against your covered hole. He shushes your protests. “Grab the controller and play.”
“They’re your friends?” You ask through clenched teeth as a finger presses against you.
“You can call them that.” He places a kiss against your thighs and his digits hold onto you. “Just start playing.”
“I can say your name?” You ask, moving his character around, following the lead of the others. You take a sharp breath when he sucks on your inner thigh, tongue lapping over the skin. 
“Make them understand that you belong to me.” He nips at you and you let out a yelp, muffling it by biting at your bottom lip. “Focus.”
“Easier said than done,” you grumble, trying to understand the controls. “I don’t even know how to access the inventory or- oh! I just figured out how to access the weapons. I think.” You pout and squirm on the table, trying to get comfortable. “Can we get a blanket for my elbows? They’re starting to hurt.”
“Next time,” Tomura mumbles against your skin, edging closer to your heat.
“Next- ah!” You dip your head when his fingers pull your underwear to the side, tongue teasing the rim of your clit, folds moving and sticking onto his pink muscle. 
“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already wet. I knew you’d enjoy this.” He pulls down your underwear, exposing your intimates to him, heat already slick and glinting with your arousal. “Best winning ever, I’ll tell you that right now.” He kisses at you, lips puckering around your lower ones and tongue darting between the space of his lips. “I’m going to make you beg for my cock.” His tongue flashes around, darting in and out of your leaking hole, swiping and tonguing at your gummy walls. “I want them all to know what a little cockwhore you are.” His words vibrate and your legs tense under him, a low pooling of heat begins in your stomach.
“What’s the mission? Li- Like,” a groan stifles your words and you breath harshly, “what are we doing?”
“Stop talking and just follow the others’ lead,” he growls against your skin, tongue lapping around your quivering clit. “So fucking sweet.” His breath is hot against you, warming your already hot sex, as it pulses with want, dripping with sweet arousal that slips past his chin and stains your inner thighs with dew. 
Tomura eats you feverishly, jaw moving along your sex, teeth grazing at your sensitive flesh that sparks when he moans against you. The controller is held in a harsh grip, fingers indented with semicircles when you mash on a button roughly. You twitch around his tongue, walls constricting, head dipped as you breath harshly through your nose, desperate to keep any lewd sounds from escaping past your lips.
“Tomura,” you whisper, “I can’t,” you squeak when his fingers press on the bundle of nerves hidden between your legs, “can’t focus. Slow down.” You shut your eyes and slap a hand over your mouth, the squeal still audible through you, when he pinches the bud between two fingers. 
“Is he already fucking you?” A voice rings through the headset and your mouth pulls into a thin line. “I have to say, I thought you’d be louder.” His voice has a hint of amusement etched into the lazy drawl. 
Your eyes widen. “Tomura,” you hiss through your teeth, standing on the tips of your toes as his tongue curls inside of you, “who the fuck is on your team?”
“He lost a bet to us, dear.” You breath harshly, nerves bundling and forming in the pit of your stomach, pushing the pooling heat to the side. “This was the most we could get out from the original bet.”
“What the- oh god,” you breath harshly, letting half the controller loosen from your grip, the bulge of it hitting the table. “Or- Original bet?” 
“Don’t worry about it,” Dabi rasps, “just give us a picture of what’s going, will ya?”
“Why the fuck-” a bemoan sounds throughout the room- “are they here?” You ask, voice strained, pulled on tight as you try to keep what little composure you have. “You- You said-”
“I said you could call them friends,” his lips wrap around your folds, tongue wetting them and suckling the arousal, “you took it as internet friends, didn’t you?”
“This is so cruel, Tomura,” you pout, thumbs jerking causing the character to stagger into another. “I- Tomura! I see these people and- and they’re hearing me-”
“Get fucked?” Jin interjects, voice loud, making you wince. “It’s pretty kinky. Never thought you’d actually agree to this!”
“Shut it,” your heart beats erratically, as you try to match each voice to their name, “some of us are trying to jerk off over here.”
“Dabi,” you breathe out, followed by a yelp. “Tomura!” You chastise, scowl on your lips. “That hurt!”
“Don’t say his name like that,” he warns, licking at your thigh where his teeth leave an imprint on you. “I told you to say my name.” Two fingers enter your plush walls, moving around, scissoring inside of your walls, knuckle deep as they curl and click with your slick.
“I’m- Who else is here?” You give a pointed glare at the screen where the characters have stopped moving save for your own which jerks and you drop the controller, nudging it closer to the screen, your character finally still. 
“Can you guess?” A calm voice rings out, composed but also wavering at the end. 
“Jin.” A pinch to your clit makes you jerk. “Atsuhiro.” A sharp smack to your rear. 
“Forgetting one,” a deep voice rings out.
“Shuichi,” you mumble. You cry in pain at the bite in your inner thigh, flaring out and fading as it reaches your heating core. “You really don’t get to throw a fit when I’m the one getting fucked,” you seethe, eyes narrowing and nails clawing at the table. 
“Watch the tone,” he warns, voice low. His digits slide out of you, and they swipe at his tongue, reaching at the far end and dragging to the tip. “Remember who’s in charge.”
He returns to you and you wail out moans of pleasure, gasping for breath, dribbles of spit coating at the desk and tears splashing into small puddles. Your body burns, pleasure and ecstasy coursing through your veins, humiliation and shame burning in your chest and the tips of your ears. He darts in and out of you, roughly and with his own desire clouding his mind, and even as he selfishly tastes you, makes you participate in this cruel bet that you thought was a joke, you lap it up. The heat in your stomach rises and boils, promising to spill over his tongue, to coat him in your essence and let him taste your sweet. 
“I’m close,” you manage to make out, eyes fluttering open, view filling with the monitor screen that still plays a still image of the game that has been forgotten. “Tomura,” you chant his name, desperate to fill your own ears with the sound of his name, but your ears remain bounded by the speakers that fill with grunts and teasing words about how submissive you are.
And with a lingering tip of his tongue, that starts at your clit that quivers and flattens to your slit, he pulls away. Your cunt dripping and soaked with a mixture of your slick and his dribble, muscles tense and the like a candle that has been snuffed, the knot in your stomach loosens and fades away.
“No, no. Tomura, please,” you whine, kicking your leg out. “Tomura,” you cry, bringing your forehead to rest on the cool wood. 
“You need to say what you want.” His hand traces down your spine and stops short of your bra, two fingers hooking into the strap. “I want them to know who you belong to.” The straps on your shoulders slip down and your breasts press deeper into the table. “Beg for it.”
Your breath is heavy and the knot in your stomach is fading, the pulsing in you so close but ripped away so suddenly by the touch of his fingers. Tears brim in your eyes and your face is flushed, eyes trying to dart behind to see what he does. You let out a shuddering exhale when you feel his cock slide between your folds and pull away. You wiggle to try to capture him, to entice him rather than have you beg for it in front of your teammates.
“Come sweetheart. He’s not going to stick it in until you beg for it.” Twice’s voice is hungry, and you can picture him salivating at the thought of you begging. “So either you want to remain unsatisfied or you want to be filled. Which is it?”
His cockhead is warm against you, a teasing sensation if pushing and rimming your sweet hole and yet he shows restraint and pulls away before you can pull him in with your walls. You were already so close, already whispering his name and leaking onto him. And in front of the rest of the team no less, whose ragged breaths you could hear through the headset. 
You swallow the last bit of dignity you have left and cross your arms in front of you, turning your head, feeling the grooves of the earcovers press against your forearm. “Tomura,” you say in a soft voice, “please, Tomura. I- I want your cock Tomura.”
“Be specific,” Shuichi hisses. 
You gulp and nod. “Let me be your little cocksleeve Tomura. Please. Fill me until I leak with your seed. I want to be fucked by your cock. Make me scream your name into the mic.” 
A chorus of “good girl” rings out and your chest swells in pride and the pearl between your legs twitches to life, your sweet leaking between your legs. You inch your legs further apart, your heat exposed to the cool air of the air, slick leaving you wet and ripe. There’s a delicate press of his head along your slit, swiping it up and down, teasing and brushing past your clit, making your toes curl. 
His head enters you, pushing against your walls and fucking a soft squish sound. You coo out his name, rising onto your hands and keeping your head low with eyes shut. The breathing in your ears takes a sharp turn, a small curse uttered between closed teeth, light clicking in the background and sighs of pleasure. He pushes further, walls stretching around as he fills you. Your tongue lolls out as you pant, spittle pooling on the flat of your tongue. He pushes himself in and a moan forms in the back of your throat.
“Come on, dear, tell us how it feels to be fucked,” Atsuhiro’s voice is low, a strained tone latched onto his words and there’s a bit of excitement that sends waves coursing through your body. “And like Shuichi said, be specific, will you?”
“It’s- He’s so big. I- oh,” you mewl, bottom lip trembling. “I feel so full. It- It stings a bit. Feels too tight and oh god, Tomura, like that, again.” His hands are holding you by the waist, hips slapping into yours as he keeps a steady pace, his thickness never fully leaving the warm embrace from your soft cunt. Nails dig into your skin and you hiss, feeling the pressure increase followed by a stinging sensation. “He- He’s holding me tight-”
“You’re a tight fit,” he growls, hands loosening his grip and sliding up to the curve in your body. “A vice grip around me. Like- shit- like you want me to fill you up.” His hands tickle at your sides and flutter above your ribs. They grope at your breasts and pull you against his chest and you yelp in surprise.
“It’s deeper now,” you choke out. “I- Oh, it feels so good.” Your hands cover his, palms pressing into your pebbled nipples that jut out. Your breasts cease their bouncing, encased in his hands, hands slipping down our body to rub at the clit that twitches. “I’m,” you lick your lips, “touching myself. Playing with my clit, and I- Tomura, harder! Please!” Your eyes water and lean your head on him, stray strands of hair flying to your face and obscuring your view.
“Fuck! I bet you’re just gushing at this point, huh?” Jin exclaims, letting a guttural moan rip through. “Keep going, come on.”
“Do you want to know the original bet?” You make a noise of confirmation, high-pitched and short. “It was to have a turn with you.” Your eyes widen and you try to turn to Tomura whose eyes are closed, a hardened nipple rolled between his index and middle finger. “But he made us change it. So sure that he would win but even he felt uncertain to lower the bet.” Dabi’s voice is cruel, a hungry tone interwoven in it and you wonder if he’s even touching himself to you voicing the actions or if it’s the humiliation that’s bringing him closer to the edge. You think it’s both.
“Tomura,” you mewl, hands coming back up to grip his, now two fingers wet with your sweet nectar. “Tomura, you’re filling me up.”
“Whose pussy is this?” He grunts, lowering his head to plant a rough kiss on your shoulder. “Say it.”
“Yours Tomura! My-” your face burns and you’re unsure if it’s because of humiliation or the growing heat that courses through your body and makes your muscles tighten. “This is your pussy!” A tear slides down your face and you slip a hand to disappear between your legs.
“I didn’t know you could be so vulgar,” Atsuhiro comments. “I have to admit, it sounds rather endearing on you.” 
“I’m going to fill you up. Do you understand? I’m going to fill you up with my seed. And you’re going to keep it there so that way when you go out and see them, you’ll feel me drip and slide down your leg. They all get to hear you moan like a bitch in heat but I’m the only one who gets to fuck you. To feel you clench around my cock and hear you beg for it- isn’t that right?” He tugs on your nipples and a sweet moan fills the ears of the audience. 
“Fuck Tomura! Yes! Fill me up, make me feel full! I want you,” you cry, fingers circling harder around your clit, desperate to reach your end, feeling the bud throb underneath you.
“Look at that, the whore actually wants to get bred,” Jin laughs, as he hears your words and no doubt Tomura’s. “The thought of that sweet, pretty cunt all filled and dripping with jizz- well fuck. I wished we traded this for a picture.”
“If we play our cards right, I think we can work that into another bet,” Shuichi hisses, the ‘s’ of his words dragging out. “To see them filled with sperm, cunt throbbing and leaking- fuck!”
“Ya hear that, doll?” Dabi’s voice throaty as he pants. “You got all of us close to creaming just by the sound of your voice. Imagine how quick we’d be if you gave us a chance at the cunt of yours.” He laughs and you shut your eyes, feeling as if the laugh were being spat at you. “Fuck, I bet even your mouth would be enough.”
“I’d face fuck them,” Jin interjects.
You moan at the words and bite your bottom lip, throwing a worried glance at Tomura whose eyes remain shut as he thrusts into you. With how close he is near the headset, you’d bet your life- or at the very least a picture of what they wanted- that he could hear the words directed to you.
“You’re clamping down my cock,” he laments. “You’re getting close.” You can feel the power in his thrusts, threatening to overtake you, hands that leave your abused breasts and ghost over your stomach, replacing your hand with his. “Tell me- Tell them what you are.”
There’s no way around this, you’re aware of that. He can act as he hates the idea of it, can promise you as he holds you that he won’t make another bet like that but you remember his grin, how giddy he was at the thought to start this entire ordeal. He’s excited for this, drooling at the thought of having others hear how he makes you feel, what you are to him and only to him. He wants to hear you say filthy, vile things, to beg for his seed and let the others look at you the next day, to know and remember what they heard, to remember that you came undone in front of them all.
“I’m yours Tomura!” The heat is rising, spilling over and dripping to your core. “I’m your cocksleeve- yours and only yours,” you can hear the desperation in your voice and your back arches when he rubs firmly at your clit, his cock hitting the soft part inside of you, making your heart quicken. “Fill me with your seed! This cunt is yours- Tomura, fill me up, please. I’m begging!”
He bends you over, your hands coming flat against the surface and his hand grab at your hair, pulling you back, his cock burrowing deep inside of you, twitching around your pulsing walls. There’s a slight stinging pain that shoots down your neck to the base of your spine, and you stumble when your own hand leaves and rubs loose circles on you, the little sensation pushing you over the edge.
You dip your head forward, a choked sound croaking out until his name echoes in the room, chanted in a loud voice until it’s whispered, breathy and hoarse, arm holding you you up, lowering into a bed, where you rest your head on your forearm, legs shaking and slick slipping and coating his length. 
Your walls pulse and tighten around him, securing him inside of you, and he works his way to his own high as you ride yours out, body still sensitive and lighting with sparks as he continues to move and slowly your hair falls past his hand and flutters down in waves. His cock twitches, hips stuttering and then it burns, filling you with his ejaculate, pooling deep inside of you. He holds himself still in you, ragged breaths come out and fill the room and you hold yourself still, whimpering when he pulls away and a trail of his semen dribbles past your hole and shines against the low light in the room.
The headset is removed, ruffling your hair and your eyes flicker, straining to see past your peripherals. You a soft click, and the intense emotion and orgasm has left you too tired to turn around.
“Shows over,” he rasps. He’s quiet for a second, hand resting above the small of your back, his pinky tapping against you in a steady rhythm. “Hm,” his hand inches upwards, “you’ll see them tomorrow. That’s for them to decide.” 
Your eyes flicker upwards and the monitor is turned off. You watch pale hands move around, eyes drooping and you grumble in protest when hands handle you roughly, pulling you close to a bare chest, and letting your feet shuffle awkward to the bed. 
“We’re talking about the bet tomorrow,” you yawn, eyes watering and straining to stay awake.
He waves a hand in acknowledgement and drapes a blanket over you. Chapped lips press against your temple, and the bed dips. He brings out his phone and a little tune plays out, fingers swiping across the screen as his face is illuminated by a blue glow. 
“You want to watch?” You nod sleepily and he spreads his arm, pulling you close to watch him play a mobile game. “I’ll clean you later,” he says nonchalantly, giving you another glance, eyes softening when they meet yours.
254 notes · View notes
lixie-lovie · 4 years
Text
{ Rogue princess | skz }
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l.felix x f!reader
Genre: ??? fluff, angst ig, royalty au, princess!reader, star child!felix, idk u tell me
Warnings: a bit angsty, bad relationships at the beginning, issues with parents, vague mention of past death, mention of animals, mentions of running away
((If anything needs to be added to warnings, lmk! I’ll fix it asap))
Word Count: 5.2k
Note: did I write this literally to comfort myself today? Yes. Have fun reading this reallllyyy self indulgent fic lolz. Hope anyone reading this has a good day! Ily
——————
A throne made of gold and satin-like velvet, all tyrian purple. Too large this seat felt, as did the hall full of people standing under gilded light filtering through the large stained glass window. Here you sat, next to your father in an even more ornate throne, in front of a crowd of people who knew your name, your face, but nothing of your soul.
They couldn’t name that green was your favorite color because of the trees you would catch glimpses of through the windows of your tutors room, ever strong through the seasons never having to carry the weight of a kingdom. They would never be able to name why ships made you weary and claustrophobic or that your favorite flowers of springtime are those that bloom away from the castles gardens when eyes aren’t watching. They couldn’t guess your favorite piece of music, the one you never heard at those god forsaken balls. They never could place that instead your favorite would be the one that came ever so gracefully from under your mother’s fingertips at the piano that used to spark so much joy in the hearts of the people, but now sat lonely collecting dust. They didn’t know you longed to reach the stars someday, yearning for their delicate freedom in the inky black sky. They couldn’t tell that you wondered if they felt out of place too.
More so than anything else, they could never guess how much you hated staring at the men kneeling before you now, begging for a wife, a servant to their needs of pleasure, for the sake of “peace.” They would never know the disgust that sent a shiver down your spine at the twisted grin of these men that took your fingers in their too rough grasp and kissed that back of your hand, their sin tainted lips lingering moments too long. Their hands twitching at their sides with their sickening thoughts as they watched you stand from your throne, adjusting the circlet of silver adorning your perfectly crafted hair.
Your father, your king, grinned widely at the propositions made my these men, happy at the prospect of one of them taking your hand, winning your heart. Happy at the prospect of selling you away. A fair trade he’d call it. A duty.
He’d never understand, you came to realize. He was the man who had chosen your mother, the same way these creatures of lust in front of you are now. Readily ridding the world of her happiness and songs, harshly forcing her into a life of servitude, solitude, for the sake of duty.
“None of them would get it”
You’d say to yourself silently as you excused yourself to the washroom, wiping your disgraced palm clean of the suitors that you had been dancing with’s sweat, your nose scrunched in disgust. In the washroom you would stand, hands now pressed to the too warm mirror in that stuffy room, staring at your reflection. Your reflection stared back at you tauntingly, the flushed cheeks and too perfect hair, until your eyes got caught on the thin band gracing your head. The piece of metal that used to be the only thing tying you to your mother’s lineage, now was only an unwelcome reminder of your duties lined up in the other room, waiting for your hand in marriage. You sighed harshly, ripping the despicable band of silver off of your head, ruining the perfect waves your hair was lying in before. You laughed too hard, running your hands harshly over the layers of paint adorning your face. Your breaths became ragged as you tore the cloth sigil from the bodice of your dress, the only thing left showing your status in this deplorable kingdom and soon you realized, the only thing holding you back.
You stared at your own reflection, a haggard appearance of a forgotten princess staring back at you, and you smiled. Quickly, you rushed to the door, checking for footsteps, before finding your way to the nearest maids chambers. Stepping inside you grabbed a few essentials and a cloak as black as the night’s sky. Once you felt satisfied in what you had taken, you steeled your nerves before quickly and cautiously making your way to the stables, now abandoned with everyone attending the event.
Your eyes scanned the area quickly before settling on a horse with hair as white as snow and eyes the color of indigo. Your form slowed, your breaths coming out in soft pants as you made your way towards the creature in awe of its beauty. You reached your hand out slowly, to gain the trust of the majestic beauty. Suddenly and strikingly you heard a voice sounding from behind you.
“My lady! Where do you think you’re going?” A rough, calloused hand gripped your shoulder tightly, startling you. You turned around quickly, your arms raising defensively. As the offending party grabbed your wrists to gain your attention your excitement died down and your breaths came out easier when you took in the features of Changbin, your personal first knight assigned to you. Your expression became one of relief as you took in the worried, curious look resting on his angular features in the low light of the stables.
“I’m leaving, Changbin. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I can’t go through with this. Please don’t try to stop me..” You said gripping his hands in yours, staring into his eyes hoping to portray the feelings pooling in the base of your throat, causing your words to come out choked. “I’ve already made up my mind.”
“I’m sure I couldn’t change your mind if I wanted to, princess. Here, take this.” He said, smiling softly. A gentle sigh left his lips as one hand reached into one of the many holsters on his person, while the other drifted to comfortingly rest on the crown of your head. His large, rough hands pressed a small holstered knife into your palm. “It’s a blade your mother used to use. I was supposed to give it to you tonight at the ball, but this felt like the right time.”
For the first time that night you smiled genuinely, staring into his eyes softly in thanks while turning to prepare the horse for your disappearance. Changbin’s hands found your waist, hoisting you up and onto the back of the horse before he quietly led you out of the stables, checking for prying eyes and quietly uttering you a safe trip. You made simple promises to return safely to him, unsure of how much truth they held, but sure of the comfort filling your chest with the smile gracing his face.
With that, you turned your head to the dark forest ahead and took a deep breath to steady yourself before going on this possibly dangerous adventure. Then, like lightning striking your nervous system, you heard a voice you had hoped to never hear again.
“Y/n!” Your father’s voice rang out over the courtyard causing you to gasp and whip your head in the direction of the sound. Changbin’s worried eyes stayed trained on your face as your indecision bubbled in your chest at your father’s commanding tone. Quickly muttering some words Changbin sent the horse off running in the direction of the forest, your confused mind allowing the actions to happen wordlessly as you watched Changbin draw his sword against his own king to protect you and allow you the freedom you had longed for. 
---------
It had been moments, maybe hours, you were unsure. The sky bared no stars as you stared hopelessly heaven bound with your eyes blurred. The chilly air hurt your cheeks now dry from the rivers of tears at your actions. Your steed came to a slow, wearily looking around the dangerous wood. All that was to be heard around you were the low grumbles of the predators and the soft snapping of twigs. In the haze of your misery you were lost and cold, unsure of even your own safety as you whipped your head uneasily in every direction of unknown noises. 
It was then that a loud howl sounded from somewhere nearby, a chorus of others following suit. You tried catching sight of the beasts making the horrid sound, but soon it seemed as though the guttural growls were surrounding you, closing in on their next meal. You yelped loudly as the horse became unsteady and afraid, dashing off towards the nearest escape. From your lips feeble shrieks of protest left, but to no avail. The creature’s of the hunt followed suit, a game of cat and mouse. Suddenly, one creature, the largest, leaped out from beyond a too dark clearing in front of your path, baring its fangs and lashing out with its dastardly claws. The horse came to an unsteady halt, rearing back and knocking your frail form harshly to the ground. You inhaled sharply, rolling away, your limbs tucked inward, as fast as possible from the now trampling hooves and paws. You held your breath, covering yourself with your arms and you cried. Tears poured down your face as you waited for the steps of the animals to recede. You heard their noises of primal instinct and found yourself counting the minutes down until they were long gone and satisfied with their hunt. 
When your arms went numb and the tip of your nose was sufficiently frozen, you turned over in the dirt, wet with dew, to stare at the empty sky. Your tears came until they could no longer, your breaths uneven with bitter air exhaling harshly from your lungs, and as your eyes stayed trained upwards, you allowed yourself one prayer to any god that would listen. 
Please. Just let me see one star. One being from above that would understand. 
Abruptly you were taken aback by an unusually chilling wind blowing through the branches of the tall oak trees, causing you to wrap your arms tightly against your grimy, shivering self. Slowly you allowed the exhaustion of the night to take over your features, your eyes closing allowing sleep to take over your dirt ridden form. Finally, you felt some semblance of peace come over you as you drifted off, a prayer still sitting heavy on your pale, chapped lips. 
“You’re one weird human.” Your ears suddenly perked as a deep voice suddenly sounded from somewhere nearby. You screamed, scurrying to cover yourself with some kind of protection. Your eyes scanned the surrounding area frantically searching for the source of the voice. 
“W-who’s there?” You said with as little confidence as you could muster. You cursed your voice for shaking silently as you continued your frantic search for this possible danger. Your eyes landed on a large branch nearby and your legs moved on their own accord, sliding you harshly against the hard, cold ground to scramble to grip the branch tightly, turning and holding it out in a manner you could only hoped looked more threatening than it felt. 
“So silly..” The deep voice chuckled out from somewhere behind you. You yelped, waving the stick in the opposite direction, hoping not to lose your footing against any loose rocks or sturdy tree roots. Your dress was torn and soaked and the gentle breeze now moving in random intervals was jarring and dancing around your cloaked form, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A sudden snapping sound from a branch above your head caused you to scream, throwing the large branch with all of your feeble might towards the offending sound. A larger breeze blew by, obscuring your vision with your own hair and you scrambled to remove it from your vision. As your finally were able to get a glimpse of a male slinking towards you another breeze blew harshly by causing your to sigh sharply, your hands flying back up to your face to remove the hair blocking your vision yet again. “Your gonna hurt someone throwing those things.” The voice sounded again, humor twinkling off of his lips with smooth curls of laughter. 
“Who are you? What do you want with me??” You said, your feet backpedaling as you finally removed your hair from your face again to take in the sight before you. Your eyes scanned the clearing of trees in the dim light unable to find the man you had been questioning and just as you began to question what was even real, you heard him again, your head whipping in the direction of the sound. 
“I should be asking you that, considering you called for me..” He said, the humor never leaving his tone. You began to feel embarrassed at the thought of this man laughing at your pitiful state. Your cheeks grew red and your ears felt hot as you began wondering why you didn’t feel as in danger as you had earlier that night, deciding to deem it all on how wild the rest of your night had already been. Instead of answering you simply furrowed your brow, scanning and searching with your eyes still trying to find the source of the inquiry. Out of the blue in the still night, yet another breeze blew by roughly, chilling you to the bone. A branch suddenly creaked above you and you scrambled back to get a view of what could be perched there.
“Looking for me?” What you found, illuminated by the dim white moonlight, was a boy, seemingly about your age, swinging his legs softly to the gentle sway of the winds. His hair was strikingly white, pure as snow. His pale skin shone softly as if covered gingerly in new born stars. His eyes held mirth, much like his cheshire smile, and his whole body was lax with amusement as he stared down at you. In shock you stumbled backwards, falling over yourself and landing harshly on the ground, yet again tonight staring up at the sky. You felt the wind tousle your hair, but you didn’t seem to have the energy to care much as your mind grappled with its own questioning thoughts. 
“Uhm..lady? Are..haha..are you okay?” His question, broken with impish laughter, felt comforting in a way as he leaned over your form, searching your face with curious eyes and a interrogative furrowed brow. You turned your head softly, staring into the now shocked eyes of the boy with the angular features and moon like eyes before suddenly your lips twitched, the corners of them quirking before a laugh began to bubble out of your chest. The laugh itself with incredulous and loud, joyous like a little kid finally discovering how something works. The boy looked back at you, tilting his head like a confused puppy as he watched you sit up slightly, leaning on your elbows. He didn’t make a move to back up or give you any space, instead leaning closer to examine you further. 
“Did you hit your head or something, funny lady?” He said, his deep voice and boy-like expression of wonder and frustrating confusion only spurring your laughter on further as you grappled for breath. The events of tonight were catching up with your exhausted state and you found yourself wondering if this boy who shone so brightly on this gloomy night was even real. 
Once you could finally catch your breath you sat upright and really took in the sight of him. He may have seemed young on the outside, but somehow he held a powerful aura, like he knew more then he let on. His smile was dazzling as he stared up at you with eyes that twinkled with a silent knowledge. You felt as though he was looking past your filthy outward appearance, and instead he was reading through your soul, listening silently to the story you couldn’t find the words to tell. 
He stood suddenly, as if he found the answer to the question that had been dancing around like the winds, curling through each of your minds. His smile became softer and more genuine as he looked down at your still seated self and slowly outstretched his hand. It was a gesture you were unfamiliar with. It wasn’t a sudden, demanding grasp of your non-consenting hand. It wasn’t rough and calloused, with a predator-like grin gracing his features, but, instead, as you slid your hand over his palm in a silent proclamation of trust you found yourself reveling in how silky smooth his larger, more slender hand felt wrapping around yours in a protective gesture. He glanced at you, a playful smirk playing on his cherry red lips. 
“Do you trust me?” He said, his deep voice breathy and patient, allowing you whatever amount of time you felt like you needed before you nodded slowly, hesitantly. He tilted his head in a munificent gesture, encouraging you to verbalize your thoughts. You felt the minuscule inkling of a curl to your lips forming, your eyes catching on how he seemed to be emitting light in this dim forest. The wind blew softly, ruffling your hair and caressing your now heated cheeks. He watched your features carefully as you bowed your head and giggled to yourself at the sensation of the winds dancing around the both of you. The chilly night felt warm as you turned your head slowly and methodically towards him again, your eyes glistening with an unreadable emotion and you breathed in deeply in a more relaxed manner. 
“I do.” You said, beaming up at him now, your small, frail hand squeezing his a little tighter. He smiled fully now and to you it felt like sunshine. He watched your face, entranced in your beauty taking not of how grateful he was to have answered your call tonight, vowing to bring that smile back whenever he could. Your expression grew concerned as the look in his eye changed and he suddenly pulled you towards him, wrapping one arm around your shoulders before taking off in a sprint. 
You tried to match his pace with a yelp, the wind now pushing you around forcefully. Your cries of protest were drowned out with his hysterical giggling. He forced you forward for a few more minutes as you began to question his strange motives before suddenly he came to a stop. His landing was much more graceful then your sudden stumbling forward, but as you gained your footing your objections died in your throat as you took in the sights around you. The forest behind you now, you stood in a clearing with grasses tickling your ankles, but the most impressive thing about this sight was the flowers. In full bloom, covering the surrounding area as far as your eyes could see were twinkling white flowers. Some stayed small and subdued, while others were larger, demanding more attention, but all of them shown with outstanding luminescence. Your breath caught in your throat as you stood completely rigid, taking in the sight. 
You then felt a soft breeze, pulling your out of your shock with a shiver before you felt an unexpected heat radiating from behind you. You felt a soft hand trace your jaw from somewhere behind as you held your breath expectantly. His hand moved from your jaw to trace the outline of your neck, gathering your hair lying there and tying it tenderly away from your face. Your sudden inhale as his fingers tickled the nape of your neck caused him to chuckle, his close proximity allowing you to feel his warm breath fanning over your shoulders. You suddenly felt balmy as he leaned his face closer, his breaths coming out in an intoxicating manner, dancing around the area where your neck meets your shoulder. 
“Look up.” He said, his voice coming out in a heady whisper. You gasped as you complied, your head whipping up too quickly, causing the male to snicker behind you. You couldn’t seem to care as you took in the sight before you. The once empty sky was now covered in brilliant gleaming stars, all feeling as though they were staring right at the two of you, encouragingly. You weren’t sure what they were encouraging, but just the silly thought itself had you laughing softly, your eyes slowly trailing over everything in front of you yet again. If it weren’t for the questioning hum the man had released you may not have even noticed the sturdy arms wrapped loosely around your waist or the cool skin of his cheek now resting on your exposed shoulder. You may not have even taken note of the breath now fanning comfortingly over your own blushing cheek of the look in his eyes as you turned slightly in his arms to get a better view of this new expression. 
He took in your overwhelmed face as you tried to form words for the thoughts racing through your mind and he laughed, his head tilted back and chuckles racking his toned chest. You took in the movement behind his green tunic, complimenting his pale skin and you blushed again, turning your face away sharply. He gripped your shoulder with one hand softly, making sure not to startle you, while his other hand outstretched softly to point towards the cushiony grass beside of you. You took the hint and made a move to sit and take in the view before you.
He giggled as he helped move the layers of your dress away so you could sit comfortably before taking his seat beside you. You found yourself becoming encumbered with exhaustion and slowly with the gentle breeze swaying the twinkling lights, you let your head pull to the side to rest easily on his shoulder. He moved slowly as to not jostle you allowing more comfort for your tired form.
“You know, lady. I never caught your name..” He said, a hint of gentle humor lacing his deep baritone.
“I’m sorry..” You hummed out, “I’m y/n. Supposed princess of this kingdom.” You said, your tone sounding harsh even to your own ears. “I’m not sure I’d like to even ask who you are.” You said, laughing to help lighten the mood.
“Hmm.. I don’t think I was ever given a name where I am from.” Your brow furrowed at his response as you moved your head from its resting perch to look up at his questioningly. He laughed again, his body folding as he chuckled at your expression. “A story for another time, y/n.” You accepted his response begrudgingly, distracted by the way your name sounded on his lips.
“So what are you going to do when morning comes, little one?” He said, no malice in his tone. You sighed harshly flopping backwards to lay in the soft grass fully, surrounding yourself in the perfumed scent of the fluttering flowers. He took that as an answer in itself as he watched you, amused.
“You need to go back.” You groaned loudly as these words left his lips and he laughed as he shushed you, pushing you softly causing you to dramatically roll over laying your head on his thigh, a noise of protest leaving your bemused lips. “Let me finish would you!” He continued, annoyance playfully covering the syllables while he ran his fingers gently through your messy hair. You smiled, appeased for a moment while staring longingly towards the stars above. The sky was lightening and you felt your smile slipping at the realization that they would be gone again soon.
He frowned watching your face grow frantic with concern before softly resting his cools fingertips on the bottom of your chin, non-forcefully turning your face in his lap to look at his own passionate expression. He tilted his head to match the angle of your, his silliness making you giggle softly before continuing.
“You may have to go back, but you can always come back here, it’s all for you.” He let his eyes slowly trail over you, landing on your hand twisting anxiously tearing up small strands of the grass without realizing. He slid one of his hands comfortingly down your arm, trailing his fingertips lightly over the back of your hands. It felt as if getting a sunburn, getting too close to the beauty of something terrifying. “Look to the stars, I’ll always be there, watching and waiting.” He finished, his voice getting deeper with each second he stared at your animated expression staring up at him expectantly.
You felt your eyes welling up with tears at the peace being here brought to you, knowing it would be ending soon. You tried forming words, prayers, but your lips were too wobbly and my voice was too weak.
“When will I see you again? Wh-what should I even call you??” You finally managed to squeak out, the thick, hot tears you felt curling down your cheeks didn’t sting nearly as much as the thought of leaving him here, only to return to the torturous duties lined up for you at your home. He smiled sadly at you, blurring your senses with how ethereal he looked. His hands twitched against your wrist as he continued his comforting path, avoiding your eyes as he furrowed his brow in thought. Without thinking, out of desperation for an answer, you swiftly intertwined your own fingers with his, your palms slotting together as if fitting missing puzzle pieces together.
“You’ll see me when you need me.. but I’ll always be there.” You pursed your lips in a pout and he smiled again, taking his hand once tangled in your hair and running it slowly, methodically over your furrowed brow, smoothing the skin there and allowing your features to find solace again. “and why don’t you give me a name that you like, y/n.” He offered, his voice softer than you had heard it before, no amusement, only timid hope.
A name. Something so uniquely human. Something lovingly crafted for an individual. Something that holds meaning and myth. Something totally your own. You frowned in thought for a moment and he watched as your eyes glazed over patiently. Suddenly, you sat up rigidly, turning to face him, leaning closer then you had ever been previously. The sudden movement startled him, causing him to laugh awkwardly, his eyes blown wide while staring at your expectant and excited face.
“I’ve got it! I’m going to call you Felix!” You exclaimed. He furrowed his brow, tilting his head and repeating the syllables slowly, testing the way they tasted on his lips. Then he smiled at you teasingly, taking your breath away briefly. You rushed to find some way to explain yourself before the heat fighting it’s way up your neck found your cheeks. You stared into his eyes determined before explaining. “It means happiness. I found happiness tonight, here with you, when I couldn’t back there. They may not ever make me happy, but I have you. My happiness. My Felix.” You finished, grinning widely, appeased.
His grin couldn’t be contained as he laughed softly at how cute you could be. As he let his grin take over his features he let his eyes drift over your close proximity. His fingers began to unfold from between yours, drifting their way up your wrist, feeling your rushing heart beat. They slowly danced over your shoulder making you shiver slightly, as he noticed his teeth took purchase in his bottom lip, the movement catching your eye. His fingertips barely tickled the skin of your neck, causing goosebumps to break out over your skin. Once his hand pushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ear you could hear your own breathing, practically panting at his gentle actions. The longing in your eyes causing his eyes to become hooded with a guarded emotion.
Slowly, his hand found its place on your cheek, his cool palm was in great contrast to your too warm skin. You reveled in the feeling, yearning to remember the way this solace felt in this moment. He smiled softly, a flash of teeth all you could see before he was leaning in tenderly. He allowed you to make the moves on your own as well, only continuing forward when you would and only you were both nearly touching, so close you were breathing the same air, he allowed himself a glance at your pink lips. His tongue darted out to wet his own lips before he pulled back slightly a serious expression on his face.
“Can I?” His voice came out breathy, heavy with something you couldn’t name. You smiled softly, pleased with his ability to ask, always thinking of your feelings first. You couldn’t even resist long enough to answer before you were wrapping some of your fingers around his larger wrist, tangling the others in his too pretty hair, pulling his face towards yours and connecting your lips together passionately.
This kiss was unlike anything you had ever heard of, instead of sparks and passion it was butterflies and subtle hints of laughter you could feel bubbling in your chest. The kiss was lingering and slightly bittersweet. You could taste the saltiness on your lips from your tears mixing with the sweetness of his lips on yours. It was perfectly melancholy and grossly beautiful. Tragedy in the form of serendipity.
As you parted Felix’s hands soothed your cheeks and wiped your tears, a smile playing jokingly on his lips. He poked your nose and leaned forward to kiss your forehead lovingly. You smiled through the onslaught of tears and gasped at the dawning sky above you now. Your eyes frantically searched for stars you knew you wouldn’t be able to see anymore, until they fell on Felix’s sad expression. He tried to smile softly for your sake as he stroked your cheek gently.
He then removed himself from you, before standing and helping you up as well. Once you were both standing, staring at each other with eyes full of unspoken words he breathed in deeply before leaning in to plant another swift, stolen kiss on your lips. You smiled as he pulled away, staring at the way his handsome features curled in amusement at your shocked form. He then, without your noticing, had moved his hand to the back of your head and with a soft mutter of words he knew you wouldn’t understand, you were suddenly unconscious in his arms. He lifted you, bridal style, and began walking back towards the forest where you had first met.
——
Once you all were back to the castle, a gentle breeze swaying the curtains, he laid you tenderly on your bed, smoothing your hair out around you and covering you with your own cushion-like blankets.
“Forgive me, princess. I usually would have asked.” He laughed quietly as you stirred in your sleep, as stubborn as you would have been awake. “I won’t be here when you awaken, but I’ll be back for you. You never have to be alone.” He slowly leaned forward, delicately placing a feathery light kiss on your lips. He made his way back to the window, tiptoeing as to not wake you, before turning to get one final glance at you.
“I’ll stay for you, y/n. Always.” He said, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips as a singular tear, the color of moonlight fell from his eye before all that was left in the room was a lonely princess and a gentle, light air dancing through the window like laughter and stolen kisses on a night only two will remember.
——————
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seasideheeseung · 3 years
Note
Hi hi since your request are open I was wondering if you could do jay love at first sight. Like he’s at a bench writing lyrics and sees yn at the park! It’s okay if you can’t I just think you’d read that so beautifully :)
Hi angel, I’ve actually never considered writing for Jay until now but this concept sounds beautiful so i’ll write it just for you🤍 Please enjoy~~
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It is autumn, and the leaves twirl and fall around Jay as they breathe their last few ounces of life, finally falling onto the cobblestone path of the quaint park. He is seated at the park bench, happy to finally get some time away from all of his daily responsibilities, and just relax somewhere quiet.
It’s rather early in the morning, and he’s scribbling song lyrics into his leather bound journal, hoping to get every idea and rhyme out onto the page as fast as he can.
He’s just trying to find a rhyme for time, before he spots someone in the distance. They are stunning, and staring up at the burnt orange and red leaves as they make their way down the dew soaked cobblestone path. Jay suddenly feels his heart speed up against the cage of his ribs, his hands dot with sweat, and he doesn’t know why.
You are absolutely beautiful to him, and all thoughts of his lyrics are suddenly abandoned into the storm gutter a few feet away from him.
You’re nearing the bench, and he panics when he realizes that you might sit. Jay scrambles to take his bag away from the spot next to him and shove it to his feet, propping it up before trying to look natural. He presses the tip of his pen into the page, watching as the ink pools around the nub, before biting his bottom lip. He hopes you don’t notice his awkwardness because if you do—
“Excuse me?” You ask gently. He meets your gaze expectedly.
“Hm?” He hums, trying to sound causal.
“I was just wondering if I could sit here.” You point a finger at the space next to him, and he’s nodding before he even looks at it.
“Thanks.” You smile back meekly and take your seat, pulling out a book of your own.
Jay is hyper-fixating on you next to him, noticing every time you turn a page, every small chuckle you let out under your breath, everything. He can’t even write anymore because of how distracted he is. So, instead, he decides to talk to you.
He leans back against the bench, taking in the scenery of the park before he steals a glance at you, and then your book.
“So... that book looks rather big. Do you like reading?”
His confidence comes crashing down around him, and he feels foolish for his choice of words. However, the mess is swept away when you look up at him, smiling.
“I love reading. This is one of my favorite books, actually. I’m re-reading it.”
He glances at the cover and nods, even though he’s never read the book before.
“That’s really cool. I’m not much of a reader but I wish I was.”
He takes notice of the way your eyes drop down to the journal in his hands, and then back up to his face.
“Are you a writer?” You ask him, smile soft across your lips.
“A songwriter, actually. I don’t write, like, poetry or anything.” He rushes, trying to impress you.
“Songwriting is poetry, silly.” You say to him, giggling at his cuteness. He blushes when he hears your laugh because it’s one of the prettiest things he thinks he’s ever heard.
“Ah- well, I guess so. It may be poetry but not intentional poetry.” He can feel himself getting awkward, but you don’t notice. Instead, you smile before your eyes flash over your watch. Your eyes go wide before you’re rushing to slip your book back into your bag.
“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot how late it was already, I have lectures.”
Jay feels himself deflate at the fact that you are leaving. He wants to rush with you, to go with you, but he knows he can’t.
“Oh, that’s okay. It was nice to meet you...”
“Y/N.” You meet him half way, giving him a full grin now.
“Y/N,” He repeats, waiting a few seconds before throwing out what he thinks might be a long shot.
“I hope I’ll see you again? Do you come to this park often?”
And you nod, because you do.
“Every Monday through Friday.”
“Monday through Friday.” Jay nods, repeating it back to himself over and over again. You laugh under your breath before hesitating in front of the cute boy.
“Okay well I... I guess I should go?”
“Yes! You should go, or you’ll be late.”
“Okay-“
“Oh my god- My name is Jay, I completely forgot to say that.”
You laugh before pulling your bag back over your shoulder.
“It’s nice to meet you Jay, I hope to see you again.”
And then you’re off. With Jay watching you go, and your heart in your throat. You’re both grinning like nobody’s business, but you’re happy. Happy to have crossed paths, to have met.
Happy for the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you’ll see each other again.
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snitches-at-dawn · 4 years
Text
draco fucking malfoy || d.m.
a/n: hi : ) i’m liza :) this is my first fic here and the first thing i’ve written in about a year apart from my uni assignments.
this is a soulmate!draco x reader, 1.6k words.
please please do give me any sort of criticism! it’s highly appreciated :) i hope you enjoy this fic!
find part 2 here and the alternative ending here
draco fucking malfoy. the bloody bastard.
you glared at him across the hall as he and his flunkies guffawed unattractively. what you wouldn't give to shove his wand up hi-
"(y/n)?" harry snapped his fingers in front of your face. you jerked out of your daydream of physically harming malfoy to the boy sitting besides you, "you're making it snow you git."
you blinked and looked above you to see soft snow flakes falling on your table. absentmindedly you brushed it off harry's hair.
"what were you thundering on about this time?" he asked.
you shook your head, "nothing important," but harry had seen your eyes on the slytherin with hair as white as the layer of snow on your shoulders. his eyes lit up mischievously, "nothing wouldn't happen to be snogging puggy parkinson would he?"
"he could pants her and fuck her in reverse on the ruddy table for all i care," you muttered as you refrained from looking at him to confirm harry's words, and reached for the coffee carafe to fill up a to-go mug.
"so you don't mind that you have to sit for potions with him in 20 minutes?" harry asked as you both got up to start your trek to the dungeons.
"not at all," you replied instantly, throwing a furtive glance at the slytherin table to ensure 'nothing' wasn't snogging anyone, "although i am quite excited to see what slughorn's like."
you and harry chattered with hermione and ron who had caught up with you all the way to the dungeons about the newest addition to the hogwart's staff. the four of you entered the room previously occupied by snape which somehow seemed less gloomy- coincidence? maybe.
as the rest of your class filled in, you noticed that there were only a dozen of you progressing to NEWT level. sadly, that included draco fucking malfoy. harry smiled at you comfortingly as she realised who you were glowering at. "it's okay," he mouthed at you as slughorn entered the room.
the round-bellied man introduced himself, directed harry and ron to the back of the room to pick up extra copies of the prescribed text, and carried on with his idea of an impressive first class.
he walked around the room questioning the class on the potions he had prepared, only being answered by hermione whose hand hit the air well before anyone else's. as he reached the third potion, you recognised it immediately as amortentia- you had read about it in a book about potion-making history and answered before hermione could.
"that's amortentia, sir, a love potion."
"indeed it is ms. ...?"
"(y/l/n), sir," you supplied for him.
"alright ms. (y/l/n), if you could step up and tell me two characteristics and what you smell?"
you walked over to the front of the class, "it's most recognisable by it's distinct mother of pearl sheen and steam rising in spirals, sir," you paused to take a sniff but were momentarily stumped. taking another sniff you said bewildered, "i can smell morning dew on grass, sir, but nothing else."
"no matter, m'girl, take five points for your answer, and five for you too ms. granger," slughorn said without missing a beat.
you turned around to see hermione in a sort of daze and snorted to yourself, then saw almost everyone in your class with the same hypnotised look.
everyone except draco fucking malfoy.
git was leaning back in his chair pretending to examine his fingernails as if you couldn't tell he was covertly watching you.
slughorn cleared his throat as you rammed your elbow into your best friend's side to drag him back to reality and away from his daydream which you supposed was about ginny. harry glared at you as the other students refocused on potions.
the rest of the class passed in a haze as you blindly followed harry and you thought on what you had smelt- morning dew on grass. not dean thomas, your current crush. not a new car. not the familiar smell of your dad's cologne or mum's perfume. not leather or the wood of broom or coffee or any smell that you associated with your favourite people. not even- draco?
you tried to cut your sopophorous bean which promptly flew across the room- right to where the slytherins were sitting, where draco fucking malfoy was sitting. you retrieved it, purposefully slowing down a tiny bit to try to get a whiff of the blonde, wondering if you had forgotten what he smelt like.
nope, still smelt like a git.
a git whose scent threw you back to that night on the astronomy tower where he unceremoniously ended your two year relationship the day before the year ended in your fifth year.
~throwback~
"i dunno, (y/n), it's just not feeling right anymore, you know?"
"no i bloody well do not. elaborate for me," you spat at him.
you could almost see his guards go up.
"there's no reason for you to snipe at me, (y/n)"
"i'll do what i want draco. you don't give me explanations, i won't give you an explanation."
draco's face hardened as he clenched his fists- you knew he was getting riled up. good. you wanted to piss him off right now.
he took a deep breath and walked towards you, lifting his hand as if to touch you somehow but you flared your nostrils and he shoved it in his pocket.
"i don't know what to say, (y/n), it's just feeling... off," he finished lamely.
you stared at him incredulously, "you didn't seem to be feeling off two days ago when we were shaggi-"
"because we were fine then!" he said quickly.
you crossed your arms over your chest and took a step towards him with your eyes narrowing, "so in forty-eight hours you did a full one-eighty about the past two years", your voice was dangerously soft and steady, not letting on how angry you felt.
he raked his hands through his silky soft hair and shrugged.
"nothing to say anymore? alright then, i'll talk. the yule ball. two years of birthdays, anniversaries and hogsmeade trips. the countless letters from home we dealt with. the-"
"is there a point to this?" draco asked coldly.
you laughed lowly, "the point is that you seem to have forgotten two years of memories, draco malfoy. if you had a solid reason for doing this, i might not have cared so much, but the fact that you can't even give me a reason makes me realise what a coward you are. the great draco fucking malfoy can't even dump his girlfriend properly," you stepped back and gave him a once over, "pathetic."
and you left him on the tower.
alone.
when you shook out of your stupor you were at your desk. you saw harry crush his bean and followed suit. ron coughed violently over his cauldron making you look at him- but someone else caught your eye. draco was watching you.
you casually flipped him off with your eyes trained on the textbook as you flipped to the next page with your other hand.
you somehow finished your potion ending up with a milky solution rather than the clear result you should have had. you peered into hermione's cauldron which was purple, the contents of rons' resembled cement but harry's was startlingly similar to the book's description.
the four of you walked out of class with harry gripping the vial of 'liquid luck' rather tightly.
at dinner that day, ron turned to you, "so are you excited to find out who your soulmate is?"
you snorted, "i'm more excited to turn seventeen so i'll be able to apparate. i'll be getting to and from classes like that," you snapped your fingers to emphasise your point.
hermione looked at you exasperated, "you can't app-"
"apparate inside hogwart's, yes, we know," you and the boys chorused, leaving her looking quite wounded.
"c'mon (y/n), you must be excited to know who your soulmate is, i'll have to wait till next july to know," harry said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
"i suppose i am a bit, yes, but i wouldn't have minded getting some time to date dean. i know he fancies me too but if it isn't his name on my wrist, i don't see the point of dating him," you replied.
"well it's only a week now," ron piped up.
"can't wait," you muttered.
the following week flew by in a haze of potions, defence against the dark arts, charms, transfiguration and never ending rolls of parchment for homework.
the next thing you knew it was the night before your birthday and you found yourself feeling quite nervous. you had locked yourself in your dorm an hour before midnight, wanting to be alone for when you saw the boy's name. he would get to know at the same time as you did since you were older- the pair of soulmates would get the other's name on the older one's seventeenth birthday- and you had zero inkling of who the boy could be. was he even in your year? oh god what if he was in his second year? wasn't that a question of legality?
these sort of questions raced through your mind as you paced your room, redid your bed, refolded previously folded clothes and you watched the clock steadily tick to twelve.
the second your alarm went off, the scratching began on your left wrist.
you couldn't watch. you slapped your right hand over your eyes and waited till the feeling had stopped. slowly bringing your hand down you looked at the name.
your heart stopped.
your soulmate was draco fucking malfoy.
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copias-thrall · 4 years
Note
I really liked the Papa III x F! S/o where the s/o was a typical shy and cute introvert, but this huge dork with those closer to her. Would it be alright if I requested the same with our dear Papa Copia (god I’m so happy to call him papa now :) )
Of course, nonny! Let’s get some sweet Papa IV up in here.
(Reference Prompt here. 😊)
Copia notices you because of your quiet nature. There are lots of Siblings that are vying for his attention and favors…and then there you are: sitting quietly during mass and reading the hymn book.
(He doesn’t have to know that you’ve been reading the same page the whole time while you admire him from out of the corner of your eyes.)
Every time he looks out, all he sees is your quiet dignity, and it speaks to him on such a personal level. While he’s grown to enjoy and embrace the showmanship of the Ghost project, he’s not a natural extrovert. So, when he sees you existing in your subdued state, he can’t help but yearn to be right there with you.
He sees you reading your book in the quad on a nice day, and he immediately pictures himself with his head in your lap as you read to him. When he spies you daydreaming in the library, he imagines what it would be like to play footsie with you under the table. As he comes across you sweeping the halls with your headphones on, he pictures giving you a homemade mixtape to listen to while you work.
Really, he wants to worm his way into the rich inner life he knows you must have.
He never does anything about it, though—in his mind you’ve been perfectly clear about your indifference to him. And he’d rather not stammer through an invitation that you’re only going to reject.
The mess hall is always a sticking point for Copia. He loves the attention—he does; it amuses him to watch the Siblings fight over who acquires his meal and who gets sits next to him. He’s still a man with an ego, and he likes it to be stroked.
But.
Some days, the whole scene just gives him a headache. On days just after an important sermon, or when he’s just back from tour, or when he’s spent the morning on a stack of paper Imperator has given him, “ASAP now, please, Papa”—it’s simply too much for him to have to be On for his admirers.
On those days, he has his Ghouls create a distraction (and Dew is always more than happy to set a fire) so that he can get in and get out with no one noticing. Then, he tries to find a quiet, out of the way place to eat his food in peace.
And that’s how he encounters you cavorting about with your friends.
You're out on the grounds because it's a fine spring day, and he can't believe that his this reserved, demure Sister is running about and chasing her fellow sister with a worm! You're laughing—not a coy titter, but a full belly laugh after you make a ribald joke about Imperator and a Brother!
Copia gapes.
You have a secret side that only your intimates know about? Well! It’s a circle he desperately wants to be a part of! (Even if he’s contractually not allowed to jest about the Seestor.) 
He imagines your laugh ringing out in his quarters as you let his babies crawl all over you (someone who doesn’t mind worms surely wouldn’t mind rats, yes?), and how you'd make him laugh with your uncouth humor. He can almost taste the domesticity.
But…he decides to stay out of sight—he doesn't want to ruin the party (which he’s sadly come to realize that, as Papa, he does quite often just by virtue of his presence)—and that’s when he realizes he actually has a hope.
You’re lying back in the grass, watching the clouds roll by, and you say,
“Hey, that one looks like a rat,” to which your friend responds, “That’s just cuz you have Popia on the brain.”
“I do not!”
“You think he’s gOrGeOUs, you want to KisS him, you want hUG him,” he singsongs.
“Shut it!” you screech as your face flushes and you throw a balled up napkin at him. 
He blocks it easily, and you lie back down with a huff.
“Whatever. He doesn’t even know I’m alive.”
Embarrassingly, the conversation shifts to how you’ve done it to yourself and if you’d just look at Copia instead of doing your best impression of a church mouse, that would be a good start.
Your face burns the whole time. I mean, having his intense focus just on you? 
You shudder. 
Surely you’d combust.
Copia bites his fist.
He could…? Have you??
***
Perhaps any of the other Papas would have been on you like white on rice…but research has always been more Copia’s thing.
Which means he spends the next few weeks slinking about like a bad spy (seriously—he might as well have on Groucho Marx glasses) trying to figure out what all your favs and interests are. 
And the Siblings are beginning to talk about it.
“He was behind a column, and I thought he was a statue,” hisses one. “He moved, and it scared the crap out of me!”
“I saw him petting the potted plants in the west corridor like a weirdo,” whispers another. “I hope Primo doesn’t hear about it!”
“I went into the broom closet to get cleaning supplies, and when I pulled the light on, he was just…standing there!” laughs someone else. “I was too surprised to be startled. He just coughed and excused himself!”
The only weird thing to you is that you seem to be the only Sibling who hasn’t witnessed Copia being adorable odd.
You often sit by that pillar to read when it’s chilly outside, and that area in the west corridor is where you sweep. Heaven!—that broom closet is next to the wash station you use! How haven’t you seen him even once?
Dew thinks this is great fun. He’s been suggesting even more ridiculous schemes (that Swiss and he giggle about back in the Ghoul dorms) for Copia to “overhear” you and your party—which Copia is taking down in earnest.
Aether thinks Copia’s being a dumbass and guesses he and the girls will have to fix this mess. Cirrus thinks Copia just needs to learn the hard way (“He’s taking advice from Dew—how does he not know better?!”), but Cumulus agrees. The two of them coral Copia into the practice space where they firmly, but gently, tell him to stop pussyfooting around and just kiss the girl already!
Copia stutters out a series of awkward rat noises before simply nodding.
“I have been procrastinating, eh?”
“You can do it, Boss.”
“Who’s the best Papa!”
Copia straightens his posture. “I am.”
***
You’re staring out the window in the classroom—woolgathering instead of dusting—when you hear a quiet throat clear behind you. You nearly jump out of your skin and hurriedly turn to make your excuses.
What you’re expecting is Sister Imperator on one of her shadow runs—but what you see is a one (1) Papa in his casual blacks (that still seem vacuum-sealed onto him) looking at you with eyes full of mirth.
It’s with great effort that you yank your eyes from his thighs up to his face.
“Oh! Your Dark Excellency, sir! I-I-I…” you stutter before composing yourself. “If you need the room…?”
A smirk turns up one side of his lips as his white eye twinkles at you.
“It is you I wish to be seeing.”
You toss the duster to the side and smooth down your habit.
“M-me?”
“Sí.”
Did you do something wrong??
You worry nervously at the sides of your habit.
“I—” Copia starts, then suddenly looks unsure. He runs his hands over his head, smoothing his thick hair back into place.
He starts again, his speech clipped and formal.
“Would you do me the honor, Sister, of joining me for dinner?”
 “I—dinner?” Like a staff dinner? Or...?
Copia blinks at you.
“I am asking you on a date.”
You blink right back.
Just you and him? Alone… 
His face turns into lines of apprehension.
“Mi scusi—perhaps I am mistaken.”
He starts to back away, and you finally find your voice.
“Wait!”
When he stops, you gulp and take a deep breath.
“I would like that, Your Dark Excellency.”
A look of relief smooths his worried expression right before he smiles at you.
“Ah…‘Papa’ is fine, Sister.”
He takes his leave of you, closing the door behind him.
You manage to hold yourself together for another moment before you let out a loud whoop and jump up and down (and unbeknownst to you, Copia is standing just outside the door, beaming).
***
Dinner went over smashingly (literally—between the nervous energy of two of you, a plate, a goblet, and a wine bottle all ended up in pieces). Copia was the perfect mix between awkward rat man and smooth Papa, and you felt comfortable enough to engage easily in conversation with him. 
You’d been a little trepidatious about after dinner (Copia certainly had not absented himself from the pleasures afforded to a Papa), but the only thing you’d done in his quarters was to meet his rats.
He’d walked you back to your room, then asked if he could kiss you. It was just a press of his lips to yours as he’d cupped your cheek, but it had felt like a promise.
The two of you end up making a perfect couple, actually. Copia, of course, respects your quiet demeanor, but it’s more than that—he understands it. The only time he singles you out is when you need to be his date to a clergy function or Abbey party—and he always gives you forewarnings for those!
On the flipside, you and he have the high capacity to be total dorks. The two of you feed off each other's humor, often being the only two in the room cracking up as you wheeze half-uttered statements at each other while the rest of the gathered looks on with pained expressions.
But neither of you care. 
You finally have your Papa, and he’s made all of his imaginings with you a reality. 
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