#drawing leg hair renews my energy
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late night quiz shows
#tohru adachi#ryotaro dojima#adajima#doada#my art#iskoart#MORE DOMESTIC ADAJIMA YIPPIEEE !!!#drawing leg hair renews my energy#i finally remembered to sign this one yay#this isnt a valentines centric drawing#i've got something else in mind#but if i end up not drawing it then yes happy valentines#sorry for the lack of posts btw all my recent drawings are far too spicy to be posted here ...
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Hurt/very, very little comfort. Like barely a hint, and I might be imaginating it by reading too much into my own work. Delta is doing bad, the ghouls are a mess.
If Alpha hadn't been distracted by his own thought, he would have noticed much sooner the tense silence smothering anyone stepping foot in the common room sooner.
As it is, it takes Mist loudly clearing her throat to snap him out of his own head. His shoulders immediately stiffen as the atmosphere finally registers.
Ifrit, crossed-legged on the rug, looks devastated, eyes red and puffy, elbows on the coffee table, gripping his hair with enough strenght to turn his knuckles white. Zephyr is sitting on the couch behind him, lips drawn in a thin line, frown knitting his eyebrows, shoulders slouching. Mist...she throws Alpha a look that almost has him stumbling in shock : helplessness is written all across her face as she paces nervously, whole body tense as a bowstring, ready to snap. Alpha never saw her like this. It makes his stomach roll uneasily.
Then his eyes land on Omega, and it's like being punched in the guts. The quint is unusually quiet, curled in on himself despite still standing, like he's trying to make himself as small as possible, ears flat against his skull, tail tucked between his legs. Before Alpha can reach him, smooth a hand along his back and enquire what's wrong, a shuffling draws his attention toward Pebble and Ivy.
And oh, Alpha is starting to understand the pattern. Pebble looks positively furious. Snarling silently, glaring at Omega like he believes looks can kill, the only reason he hasn't drawn blood yet seems to be Ivy's arms coiled tightly around him, refusing to let him go in spite of sharp elbows being thrown at his ribs or feet stomping on his.
There is only one reason Pebble could look so ready to maul Omega, someone he, despite what the past few years made transpire between them, respects very much ; something happened to Delta.
That certainty settles in Alpha's bones like ice, chilling him to his core, and not even his internal fire can thaw such a realisation.
Given the situation, Alpha turns to the person most likely to give him a straight answer.
"Zeph ?"
Zephyr lifts heavy, tired eyes toward him.
"Delta...something happened. He collapsed in the middle of the hallway...he's stable now, but very weak. Aether is watching over him."
So it's getting worse again. Alpha's stomach churn. Delta barely pulled through the last time he had such a crisis, not long after the Papas' murder. So now...
"I should go check on..."
"You won't get anywhere near him, you hear me ?!"
Omega's weak offer gets cut off by Pebble's venemous growl, straining against Ivy with renewed energy, fangs bared. Omega seems to shrivel under the earth ghoul's scalding anger.
"He needs-"
Pebble nearly manages to jostle himself free, sending both himself and Ivy sprawling onthe floor, from which he keeps spitting his rage at Omega's face.
"Aether's with him, he certainly doesn't need you. You're the one who fucked up his transition so bad-"
"I did my best, water and quint are such unstable elements-"
"-had him repatching himself on a molecular fucking level-"
"-was the first ever attempted, I didn't know that would happen, he begged me to-"
"-and now Delta's half dead on a hospital bed, and it's all because of you, are you proud, Omega-"
The room disolves in chaos, between Pebble's accusation becoming more and more frantic, Omega attempting to defend himself while slowly crumbling, Ivy begging them to stop, Ifrit breaking down again, sobs raking his whole body while Zephyr does their best comforting and shushing him, Mist seemingly hesitating between knocking someone out or banging her head against the wall.
Alpha's head is pounding, the image of Delta laying lifelessly on white sheets barely paler than him bounces inside of it, a spike of nausea-inducing panic nearly has him retching, and that's just it.
The second Pebble manages to wiggle his way out of Ivy's grasp, lunging claws first toward Omega, Alpha's instinct kicks up. He tackles the earth ghoul, one arm around his waist, the other around his middle, trapping Pebble's arms against his body. Uncaring of the thrashing, Alpha holds on tight.
"Let it all out. Come on, give me everything, give it to me, i can take it."
And Pebble does. Kicks, yells, spits curses, snaps his jaws, even sinks his fangs in Alpha's shoulder, but the fire ghoul doesn't budge, kneeling on the worn carpet, arms unyielding around him even as he calls him every names under the sun and then more.
After a while, the earth ghoul slumps, and Alpha knows he's crying silently of his shoulder, can feel the dampness through his shirt, the occasional twinge of salt on the fresh bite mark there. It speaks volume on Pebble's emotional state, that he let himself cry on Alpha of all people ; any other day, the fire ghoul would get disembowled if he had the unfortune of seeing Pebble with even the slightest hint of tears in his eyes.
"Alright. You're alright."
A shaky exhale, a shudder. Pebble doesn't look at anyone when Alpha releases him, making a beeline for the door, no doubt heading for the infirmary, but he pauses at the threshold. Hand lingering on the handle. He doesn't look back, but the hesitation is there. A heartbeat later, he's gone.
Alpha shares a look with Mist, who's helping Ivy get to the couch next to where Ifrit curled against Zephyr in distress. She jerks her chin toward Omega, then sticks her thumb in the direction of the huddled mass of ghouls on the couch.
You deal with him, I deal with them.
Smart girl.
Alpha glances at where Omega slid down against the wall, knees to his chest, eyes staring unseeingly. With a heavy heart, the fire ghoul reads the pain clear as day on the quint's pinched features.
There will be many more tears to drytonight.
#i'm sorry that some ghouls in this were just#there#but i needed to focus on pebble's absolute fury and alpha's placating role#he knows what pebble needs in this kind of situation#an outlet to his feelings#or else he can't start sorting through them#so alpha gives him one#let him exaust himself until he can think properly again#anyway yes more angst because#well just because#alpha ghoul#pebble ghoul#omega ghoul#delta ghoul#nameless ghouls#the band ghost
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Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Fourteen // A MIW/Bad Omens PolyAU
Tropes and Tags: why choose romance, MF, MFM, MFMM, MM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.
Content warning: 18+ only minors DNI. PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.
This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.
Taglist (see MP to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @synthetic-wasp-570 @beaker1636 @thesazzb @itsjustemily @vinyardmauro @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @letmeadoreyoux @latenightmusiclover @transparentwitchnightmare @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @emofangirl02 @rumoured-whispers @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @dominuslunae @sunsshinesunny @jilliemiw86 @h0rr0rqu3en @yournecessaryevil @bloody-delusion-expert @mortallyuniquepeach @missduffsblog
Chris’s POV
The energy of the venue still pulsed through the air, the thunderous beats and roaring crowd leaving a lingering ringing in my ears. As the masses slowly filed out, the floor was left littered with the remnants of the night's festivities - discarded solo cups, shimmering confetti, and the occasional lost earring or bracelet. Meanwhile, the crew was methodically disassembling the technical equipment that had brought the stage to life, carefully packing it all away onto the trailer to be transported back to the warehouse.
Yet in the midst of this bustling post-show activity, we three had sequestered ourselves in a darkened corner, lost in our own private reverie. Sweaty and flushed, I struggled to push back the long tail of my shirt, desperate to get a better view as my rock-hard cock disappeared into the warmth of my girlfriend Eve's pussy. Balancing precariously atop the stacked storage boxes, I threw my hat on backwards, Eve straddling my lap with her short black dress bunched up around her hips, the fishnets that covered her shapely legs torn to provide unimpeded access.
Standing behind her driving into her ass was Rick, sandwiching our girlfriend between us, his dark hair falling in his eyes as his lips kissed her neck and hands roamed up her torso to cup her breasts through her dress.
I fumbled in the dimly lit space, my fingers instinctively reaching for the familiar outline of my phone in my pocket, I could barely maintain my grip on the device as the scene unfolded before me. Eve was bouncing rhythmically on my throbbing cock, her movements perfectly synchronized with Rick's powerful thrusts. Watching their bodies intertwine, I was transfixed - the way Eve's hair cascaded over her face, the way Rick's chiseled cheeks puffed out as he exhaled sharply, pushing the stray strands away from his eyes. The sight was utterly captivating, and despite my best efforts to maintain composure, I couldn't resist the urge to capture a quick snapshot, the camera shutter clicking discreetly.
A sly grin spread across my face as I typed out a message, my fingers trembling slightly with excitement. But just as I was basking in the thrill of my voyeuristic exploits, Rick's seductive drawl snapped me back to attention.
"Are we boring you, Chris?" he purred, his hips never missing a beat as he drove into Eve with renewed fervor, eliciting a guttural moan from her open, panting mouth. Reflexively, I bucked my hips to meet his rhythm, the sensation nearly causing me to climax then and there. Eve's voice rang out, her scream echoing in the confined space, but Rick quickly covered her mouth with a large hand, muffling the sound.
"Now, now, babygirl," he admonished, his tone laced with a hint of warning. "You wanna get us caught?"
She shook her head, her eyes bulging wide with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. She looked absolutely captivating, drawing us in with a raw, primal allure that was impossible to resist. In that moment, I couldn't believe my luck. We moved quickly chasing the release till both of us were spilling inside her. I pulled my pants back up, hastily securing them just as a few crew members were walking by. I let out a sigh of relief when neither of them turned our way, suddenly jumping when Eve placed a hand on my chest.
“Anything?” she asked in a hushed tone.
I pulled out my phone, scanning the text and re-reading the message I had sent, my heart sinking as I shook my head, struggling to keep the corners of my mouth from betraying my disappointment. Her eyes immediately went downcast, the glistening of tears betraying the depth of her anguish, and I watched helplessly as she turned to Rick, who swiftly tucked her under his arm, the two of them making their way out of the venue.
We had known when he left on tour that it would be difficult, that the distance and time apart would be challenging, but nothing could have prepared us for just how much we would miss him. For the first couple of weeks, he had kept in touch faithfully, texting the group chat multiple times a day, sharing updates and photos from the road. But slowly, gradually, the messages had become less frequent - down to just once a day, and then, after a week had passed with complete silence, the worry and dread began to set in.
I didn't want to jump to conclusions, didn't want to believe the worst, but deep down I knew what this prolonged lack of contact likely meant. He was pulling away, creating distance, and my heart clenched painfully at the realization.
The past month had been a whirlwind of change and uncertainty for all of us, including Rick. After his first date with Eve, he found himself unsure of exactly where he stood with her - was he her boyfriend? Her partner? Her casual fling? The poor girl had to spell it out for him, clarifying the nature of their relationship as he slowly and hesitantly took on the role of her boyfriend. Rick struggled with the confusion of not being Eve's one and only, having to come to terms with the fact that he was sharing her with Noah and I. But as the weeks progressed, he gradually grew more comfortable, even embracing the position of neutral mediator. It was a refreshing change of pace for Rick, who relished the opportunity to provide a calm, levelheaded presence amidst the emotional ups and downs.
Then, just before Noah left for a big tour, everything shifted again. I spent a few intense days with the two of them in Los Angeles, and the experience seemed to alter the very foundation of our unconventional relationship.
I was off doing a podcast while Eve spent some alone time with Noah, flying in just two days before he left. We’d used the restraints from Noah’s secret box a few times together, this time she was tied down by her wrists and ankles secured by soft red rope to each leg of Noahs bed. Noah and I happily lying between her parted legs.
Not sure if it was just the fact that our tongues kept gliding past one another, or the stolen glances between us, or maybe it was that stupidly well placed golden grill he’d put in his mouth beforehand; whatever it was I was flawlessly lost in it all. So when our tongues slid past one another again-I wasn’t sure who moved first- but soon our tongues were mingling with each other, pushing into one another's mouths with some fire I hadn’t known I could feel.
We didn’t really bring it up much afterwards, Noah and I hadn’t discussed it completely, but the way I teased him told me he didn’t seem to openly object.
Rick and I took turns showering at the venue before we all piled back on the bus. It seemed weird to use a bus for a three night sold out show. But we were nothing if not consistent when working.
With it being our last night, most of the crew were taking the next flight out in the morning, opting for a hotel instead of being on the road with us. It was just the three of us, Vinny, and a few crew members who'd all retired to the back of the bus by the time we were on the freeway.
“Has anyone tried calling him?” Rick sat on the couch across from us, Eve’s head in his lap as he twirled one of her long curled strands around his finger. Her eyes drooping as she fought to stay awake.
“A couple times,” she mumbled as sleep started to melt into her body.
“He’s always texting that he is sorry he missed the call. Usually after she is asleep. I wait up and try calling back but it goes straight to voicemail.”
I glanced down at my phone once more, the text I had sent to Noah earlier that evening stared back at me, the delivery status updated to "read" nearly half an hour after we had already set out on the road. A sinking feeling began to settle in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn't bring myself to mention it to the others.
"Is it me?" Rick asked suddenly, his brow furrowed with concern. I simply shook my head, trying to push down the growing sense of unease. It couldn't be something I had done - Noah was always so reliable, so quick to respond. Surely, if I had done something to upset him, he would have said something by now.
My guitarist's next words, however, caught me off guard. "Was it the kiss?" he inquired, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raising in my direction. I snapped my head up, staring at him in shock. How on earth could he have known about that? My eyes quickly darted to Eve, who was fast asleep in his lap, oblivious to the conversation unfolding. If her word alone wasn't enough to confirm the truth, the telltale blush I felt creeping across my cheeks gave Rick all the answer he needed.
Noah’s POV
As I sat at the makeshift dining room table, the surface was cluttered with a jumble of scrawled notepads, each one filled with a scattered mess of lyrics and half-formed ideas. Fragments of melodies and phrases were scrawled haphazardly across the pages, some lines crossed out while others were circled or connected with arrows, the disorganized chaos taking up nearly every inch of the paper. It was the disjointed, frenzied creative process laid bare - the struggle to capture the elusive spark of inspiration and mold it into something coherent. In the midst of this lyrical battlefield, I found myself lost, sifting through the wreckage of my own thoughts, searching for the seeds of a song that had yet to fully blossom.
Several nights before we headed out the band and crew threw a small party for the upcoming sold-out European tour. As I watched my girlfriend effortlessly converse and bond with my bandmates, I found myself mesmerized, unable to take my eyes off of her all evening.
The guys couldn't resist teasing me, playfully insisting that I was clearly in love, though I brushed off their comments at the time. But deep down, I knew they were right - the undeniable connection with Eve had blossomed into something far deeper than a casual fling.
Later that night, as she straddled my lap I was suddenly overcome with a profound realization. In that moment, with her legs wrapped around me and our breath mingling together, the words I had been holding back for so long came spilling out. "I love you," the confession like fire on my tongue, the vulnerability betraying the weight of those three little words. It wasn't the most conventional time or setting to make such a declaration, but with her skin against mine and our heartbeats in sync, it felt like the only appropriate time.
So what was the problem?
I couldn't believe I had allowed myself to become entangled like this, emotions that I knew deep down would only lead to heartbreak in the end. What was worse? It wasn’t just her I had feelings for.
When Chris arrived at my door, we took off immediately to my room. I’m not sure where my head was at, where I'd gotten the idea or what possessed me. But the way her juices glistened off his lips, and the sounds he was making-I was so close I could see the three scars of his previous piercings on his bottom lip- I lost control. I leaned in, capturing his lips with my own. He hesitated at first but I was persistent, my tongue cleaning all of Eve off his still closed lips, but then he relaxed, opening his mouth to let our tongues mingle together.
I’m not sure if it was feelings or just lust but he was driving me just as insane as her, the smell of him, the taste of him. I was a man being driven mad. Then the way he looked standing in my kitchen as I finished packing my shit, seeing him lean against the counter with his arms crossed in his nike joggers and t shirt. His hair grown out, dark roots with lilac tips, every so often I’d catch his hands running through it to keep the strands out of his eyes.
I couldn't quite put my finger on whether it was genuine feelings or a more primal, carnal lust - all I knew was that this man was driving me just as insane as Eve does. There was something about his scent, a subtle yet alluring blend of cologne and something innately masculine, that sent tingles down my spine every time it wafted past. And the taste of him, the memory of those lips against my own, haunted me.
The incessant buzzing of my phone on the table sent a jolt of dread through me. Pulling me from the constant replay of my memories. I knew exactly who it was from - one of them, the people who had slowly been tearing my world apart. For a few agonizing minutes, I tried to resist the urge to look, to bury my head in the sand and pretend I hadn't seen it. But the pull was too strong. With a trembling hand, I finally flipped open the screen, my eyes immediately drawn to the image that filled the display. There was Chris with Eve - straddling his lap, her thighs cradling his hips as his hands gripped them possessively. Hovering above them, hands firmly grasping Eve's waist to hold her in place, were a set of familiar, heavily-inked fingers. Fingers I had only ever seen in photos. Seeing them there, intertwined with their bodies and me not there, it felt like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from my lungs.
The text beneath the delicious image making my heart flutter.
Room for one more baby ��
After that fateful kiss, he had taken to playfully teasing me with affectionate pet names and gently ruffling my hair, the terms of endearment continuing as we texted back and forth in the following days. At first, I had simply played along, not thinking much of it. But as time went on, I gradually found myself becoming more and more drawn into the idea of being his "baby" - the way the words rolled off his tongue, the underlying intimacy they implied, it all started to slowly chip away at my carefully-constructed defenses.
Somewhere deep down, I could feel myself beginning to melt and surrender to these new feelings, allowing myself to be enveloped by the sense of belonging and security that his affections seemed to promise. Yet just as quickly, my own stubborn pride and need for control would reassert itself, reminding me that I was the one in charge here - no one took possession of my heart without my explicit permission. I was the king of my own castle, after all, answerable to no one. But the truth was, they already had - my traitorous heart had betrayed me, opening itself up against my will. Feeling a surge of panic at this loss of autonomy, I did what came most naturally to me in times of vulnerability-I ran.
“Alright guys,” Matt's voice broke the silence, dragging me out of my thoughts, glancing up I saw him gathering the band around the kitchen. Jolly was still half asleep drinking his coffee as Nick and Folio rubbed the exhaustion from their eyes. “I got an email about a festival in Vegas, they want a response by next week-since we will be back state side to turn in the new live recordings it would be best for me to meet with them if we plan to go through with the festival. I guess, bottom line, who votes for the festival?”
“Book it.” my voice was harsher than I had intended. The other band members whipped their heads around to look at me, surprised by the abrupt answer.
Jolly paused, mouth hanging open, “Noah, you sure?”
“We’ve been going non stop, i’m not sure how much more we could take,” Nicholas argued. I only shrugged my shoulders, whatever they wanted, but I knew I wanted to stay busy.
"If Noah is on board, I guess so am I," Nicholas said halfheartedly, his tone conveying a clear lack of enthusiasm. I glanced up from my work, peering at the group through my lashes, and saw the rest of the guys nodding along in agreement. With a final, fleeting glance towards Matt, I could see the resolution forming on his face - this was happening, regardless of any reservations. Bowing my head, I returned my focus to the task at hand.
#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens rpf#noah sebastian fic#bad omens smut#noah sebastian smut#Chris Motionless fic#Chris Motionless smut#ricky olson smut#ricky olson fic#miw band#miw#chris motionless#chrismotionlessfanfic#motionless in white fanfiction#motionless in white smut#polyverse
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˚₊𓆩༺ Kissing in the Shadows ༻𓆪₊˚
Fandom; Baldur's Gate 3 | Pairing; Shadowheart/Fem!Tav | Rating; Explicit | | Tags; Smut, Oral sex, Grinding | Length; 1k | Ao3 Summary; "Before you realize it, Shadowheart's actions gain momentum, and she pushes you gently to the ground. Hovering above you, she straddles your hips, her presence commanding and electrifying. As her lips descend upon yours once again, a surge of anticipation courses through your veins." This was my first attempt at smut from many moons ago
"Let's head back. if we must." Shadowheart says, sitting up and gathering the empty wine glasses, her movements laced with reluctance.
Your heart races, wanting to voice your desire for her to stay. You begin to open your mouth, eager to convince her to linger, to spend the entire night by your side. She unexpectedly agrees.
"Well, the others will survive another few minutes," she remarks, the weight of their presence inside camp momentarily forgotten.
The wine's effect has warmed both of you, and the night seemed to hold a charged energy, the atmosphere ripe for bold moves.
Summoning your courage, you lean in, capturing another fleeting kiss from the raven-haired woman. However, your attempt at a quick gesture is interrupted as she firmly grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place.
You cup her cheeks, your intentions clear and your desire palpable. What begins as a chaste kiss swiftly transforms into something more urgent and passionate, a cascade of hungry kisses exchanged between you two.
Time seems to blur as your yearning intensifies. Before you realize it, Shadowheart's actions gain momentum, and she pushes you gently to the ground. Hovering above you, she straddles your hips, her presence commanding and electrifying. As her lips descend upon yours once again, a surge of anticipation courses through your veins.
Her grip on your head adjusts, allowing her to explore your mouth with a renewed fervor. The taste of her lips against yours ignites a fire within you, and you respond eagerly. With a gentle glide, her tongue brushes against your lip, and you instinctively part your lips, granting her access. The sensation of her tongue exploring your mouth ignites a dance of sensations, a delicate interplay of desire and connection that leaves you breathless and yearning for more.
In the throes of the passionate exchange, you lift your leg, granting her the invitation to press against your thigh. Her movements become more fervent, her lips still locked with yours as she grinds against your leg, a testament to the intensity of the moment. A soft sound escapes her lips, a mixture of surprise and delight, and her actions pause for a moment. Gazing into your eyes, a fleeting hint of doubt flickers across her expression. Yet, as if drawn by an irresistible force, her desire wins out, and the hesitation gives way to an even stronger wave of longing. She resumes kissing you, her lips meeting yours in a fervent embrace.
Once more, she grinds gently against your thigh, a quiet noise escaping her in the midst of her motions.
Shivers of pleasure race through you as her lips abandon yours and move to your neck. A delicate nibble, followed by a soft bite, sends a surge of sensations coursing through your body, igniting your skin with a mix of pleasure and anticipation.
Driven by an ache for more, you shift your hips, attempting to generate some friction, but she skillfully moves her leg away, leaving you in a state of heightened need. The words that slip from her lips are a mix of admonishment and promise. "You must wait," she breathes into your ear, the warmth of her breath sending delightful shivers down your spine. Her bite on your neck is firmer this time, and you moan unabashedly, the line between pleasure and restraint blurring further.
The intensity of the moment draws a heavy breath from Shadowheart, her own desire growing more pronounced. She abandons the teasing of your neck, her focus shifting entirely to her own sensations. Her breathing becomes heavier, her movements more urgent.
She grips your shoulders as she humps your thigh, her sweet little mewls making you wetter by the second. She grinds down harder letting out a loud moan, she shutters as an orgasm rips through her. As she rides out waves of pleasure, you stare at her, admiring her beautiful features as she tries to catch her breath.
Shadowheart stares back at you before, getting off your thigh, slowly she creeps down your body, tugging off your underwear she whispers. “Your turn”
The cleric takes a deep breath before opening her mouth, her tongue making contact with your dripping slit. She groans as she tastes you. She starts gently and slowly but hastily speeds up her motions.
You cry out as she attacks your clit with her skillful tongue. You grind down onto her mouth, shivering as she changes her rhythm. The knot in your abdomen tightens until she expertly takes your clit between her delicate lips.
Shadowheart sucks at you desperately, her teeth softly pressing against you.
You can’t hold it together much longer. You grab her hair and push her further into you as you cum. The cleric helps you ride out your orgasm. Lapping up the mess, you can feel her smile against you.
Shadowheart sits up, wiping her face with her wrist, her actions marked by a mix of satisfaction and a desire for composure.
As you begin to come down from the rush of pleasure, you also sit up, the afterglow of the moment still lingering in the air. Your eyes meet Shadowheart's, and there's a noticeable shift in her expression. A smug grin plays on her lips, revealing her sense of satisfaction and amusement.
You pull her into another kiss, a mixture of desire and lingering passion guiding your movements. The taste of both of you mingles on your lips, and you lick at her lip, a silent invitation for the dance of tongues to resume.
Before the moment can fully rekindle, you're abruptly interrupted by the distant calls of Gale and Wyll, your companions calling your names in search of you.
"Shit," Shadowheart mutters, urgency flooding her expression as she stands and scans the area, her focus shifting from the intimate moment to the demands of their journey.
In the midst of the urgency, she surprises you by crouching down swiftly and stealing a quick kiss, a spark of connection amidst the chaos. "See you tonight?" she questions, her eyebrow raised in a playful yet meaningful gesture.
You nod, the unspoken understanding between you two propelling the promise forward. Swiftly, you rise, adjusting your clothing and regaining your composure.
"Tonight then," you confirm, a mutual agreement etched in your words, the anticipation of what lies ahead hanging in the air as you both prepare to rejoin your companions and the path that awaits.
5/10 no notes Divider Credit - @cafekitsune
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𓅨 As Dawn Breaks: Chapter Five
As Dawn Breaks: Mother Night and Father Time, after having sired seven Endless to personify life in the known universe, create Earth and human life begins. One last Endless is created: Dawn, the personification of illumination and hope, the beginning of a new day and a chance for happiness and improvement. A love will span thousands of millennia, breaking with every sunrise and renewing hope come sunset. Yet, even the personification of hope can lose the very notion of her existence from the sting of a broken heart.
Warnings: Explicit Language + Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No), Incest (Technically?).
To Note: Dream/Morpheus x Endless!FemaleReader(Dawn), This Involves Themes That Are Not For Everyone.
Word Count: ~3.3k
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Morpheus wrapped his hands around your upper thighs and dragged your cunt to his waiting mouth, desperate for his first taste of you. Your first instinct was to jerk in place once more with a ragged gasp, your toes curling and your knees diverting inwards against Morpheus’s sides. Just when you were getting over the explosive burst of pleasure from the heat and touch of his mouth, Morpheus’s tongue raked through your folds with one smooth, slick glide. A sharp cry left your lips as your back arched and your nails sunk into the dark fabric covering Morpheus’s back. Satisfaction bloomed within Morpheus at your reaction and holding onto your hips and thighs tighter, he pressed his tongue into your cunt and laved at your clit. Morpheus sucked and dined on your flesh until you were whimpering and thrashing against his hold. You had one hand buried in his scalp and the other scratching at his back… and the best part? Morpheus could feel how much you were coming undone within your body.
“Morpheus,” Your breathed out, tears prickling at the edges of your lashes. By now your neck was straining and tight with tension, and your legs shook with the fury and might of Poseidon’s strongest earthquake. You felt a turbulent pressure within your abdomen, one that spun around with such a speed that you could barely keep in time with it. It was spinning out of control, and with it every ounce of control you had over your body. The rigidity that had stricken your body shattered and you came on Morpheus tongue in limp mess. His eyes rose to look at your face, and upon seeing your flushed and blissed out face, his lips curved into a pleased smirk.
“And how fare you, my Hope?” Morpheus softly questioned you, leaning down to nip at your hip. You shivered and groaned softly, your fingers sliding down from his hair and brushing across his cheek. Morpheus captured your falling wrist with his hand and kissed your wrist, feeling the way your energy hummed beneath your skin.
“You appear to have a rather greedy appetite, my Dream,” You answered, your eyes meeting Morpheus’s. You gave him coy smile. “Better not drink your fill premature, lest you become gorged and unable to consume another bite.” Morpheus found your obvious taunt amusing and chuckled, reaching to stroke your flushed cheek. Then he pressed his thumb over your lips, drawing the digit down until he had your swollen lower lip in his grasp.
“Careful with your words, little one,” He warned you, his eyes reflecting a message that while he’d allow you to get away with some teasing, it was in your best interest not to tempt fate. Then again, was fate not yours to tempt in the first place? You plastered an innocent look on your face and reached up to caress his cheek, marveling at how his skin felt beneath your fingertips. Your touch fired up something within Morpheus, it was that need for you, but more… so while Morpheus melted his clothes from his body and draped himself against against yours, he took your lips once more. You moaned into his kiss, the taste of your arousal fresh on his tongue and nearly overwhelmed by feeling of his naked body pressing flush against your still trembling one.
Between the mouth that was moving painfully slow against yours, sweeping over every part of your lips and tongue inside and out, and naked skin pressing into yours… you floundered. Your hands didn’t know where to go, or what to touch. You didn’t know if you should allow yourself to squirm against Morpheus, push your hips against his, feel his cock against your throbbing cunt. You didn’t know if it was okay to take. Morpheus moved his hand from your chin to brush your cheek, then broke his deep kiss to gaze lovingly into your eyes.
“Don’t tell me that you’ve gone meek, my Hope,” He spoke, appreciating the way warmth swirled across your skin.
“I do not wish to overstep your boundaries, Morpheus,” You whispered in admittance. Morpheus’s love for you only grew. It was only natural that Dawn of the Endless would be selfless, even in the most intimate and self-satisfying acts. Morpheus nuzzled his face against yours and slipped his fingers further along your cheek, brushing the hair at your temple.
“I am yours to do as you will, my Hope, always,” He gently encouraged, wanting to draw out the best in you, see you in complete and utter bliss. Morpheus pressed his lips against yours once more, capturing them and savoring the taste. Kiss after kiss he placed upon your soft and addicting lips until you were wiggling against him and pressing your body further against his. Catching your lower lip with his teeth, Morpheus drank in your soft moan and ran his hand down your side. His fingertips grazed the curve of your breast, gently cupping the soft globe. He brushed his thumbs over your nipple and you whined against his mouth, your breast thrusting into his touch. Morpheus moved on, teasing desire everywhere he touched. His fingers reached the wet patch of curls nestled between your legs, and pushing his fingers into your flesh and through the soft hair, Morpheus glided a finger over your clit. You gasped against his mouth and buried a hand into his hair. He already adored the sound.
Trailing his lips along the corner of your mouth, Morpheus pressed kiss after kiss on your face while swirling his finger through your folds, against your clit… pleasure was playing across your face so sweetly and your subtle wiggling against his body made his cock strain and harden. Morpheus wished to bury his cock within your virginal walls, feel how you would clench around him, squeeze him. He wanted to feel your warmth and bask in your embrace… but if he rushed his desires for you, Morpheus was goingto hurt you. That was something he would never allow. At least the moisture clinging to your flesh made it so his fingers glided smoothly along your sensitive flesh and made it all to easy to slip a finger into your throbbing cunt. Your proceeding cry glossed over Morpheus’s cheek like silk as your walls clenched around his digit.
Gasping and trembling in place, you pressed your face against Morpheus’s and dug your fingers into his messy obsidian hair. You chewed on your lip as he repeatedly sank his finger into your body, slowly but surely stretching out your tight walls. A second finger joined the first and your back arched as a burning feeling erupted between your thighs. You whimpered and squeezed your thighs around Morpheus’s wrist.
“You must relax, my Hope,” Morpheus whispered into your skin, his lips pressing against your jaw. You struggled to force yourself to relax once more, but you managed to do so. Your thighs trembled as they went lax and with gentle murmur of praise, Morpheus curled his fingers within your body and stroked a spot within you that left you seeing stars. Your lips parted with a strained gurgle, you were caught off guard by the surge of pleasure that made a thousand spasms ripple within your body.
“Morpheus, please,” You moaned softly, not wanting to be teased with the possibility of devouring pleasure any further. You had patience, plenty of it actually, but this was not something you wanted to take slowly… not after hundred years of silently yearning and keeping to yourself. Your free hand stretched out across his shoulders and pressed into his smooth skin. Morpheus rotated his head, his lips brushed across yours and his eyes staring deeply into yours. You maintained that eye contact through his continual strokes and ministrations, softly gasping under your breath and trying not to twitch and writhe against him. You looked gorgeous beneath him, face flushed and swollen lips parted with breathy gasps. He leaned his forehead against yours.
“Is this what you truly want, my Hope?” Your fingers fisted his onyx strands and your body sparked with want and insatiable need.
“Yes,” Your reply was drawn out, rasping, as your lips brushing against Morpheus’s. You let your fingers slip from his hair and dwindle along the curve of his cheek. You want to explain to him how you felt, but you know words would never be enough. You didn’t want him. You needed him because you felt like he was a part of you… and you were sure that Morpheus could feel it too. Finally Morpheus was satisfied, and pushing back the little thoughts of him ruining you, taking away your pure innocence, he pressed his lips back against yours. His mouth is distracting you, lips firm against yours and guiding you to a higher place while he urged your lips to part. The moment you do so his tongue is taking yours once more, dragging you into an abyss of sensation. You hardly notice that his devilish touch has receded from with your body and was now giving your moisture laden thigh one last caress.
With gentle hands, Morpheus tugged your thigh further outward and against his hip. The moment your cunt pressed against his hard cock, he sighed with an inebriated groan. You already felt so warm, so incredible, and he wasn’t even in you yet. A soft moan slipped from your mouth, muffled by his lips which refused to part from yours. Drawing his fingers over the top of your thigh, Morpheus reached for his cock and guided it through your soaked folds, slicking it up and basking in the heat he could already feel. You shuddered beneath him, but rather than pull away you clung closer. Dangerous. This was ever so dangerous for you. Wrong too. Morpheus knew that. He knew better. He knew better.
I was not made to be your sibling, Morpheus. But I am not naive enough to not realize when I am no longer wanted.
Oh, he wanted you alright. Morpheus wanted you so bad that he was willing to risk the wrath of Mother Night and Father Time just to claim a piece of you no one else could have. His desire for you was twisted and made him question why he had been made to desire you in the way he did. So when your lips parted and you gasped for a breath of air, Morpheus pushed into your body. It was all to easy to slip into your cunt in the beginning, but the little resistance your body gave half way through had your breath hitching in your throat and your muscles tensing beneath Morpheus. He was quick to kiss the corners of your mouth and whisper for you to relax as best as you could. You responded to his gentle guidance and did what he asked, and Morpheus pushed against your body’s resistance until he felt something give. You nearly yelped at the sudden stinging sensation deep within your body.
He was fully within your body now, his cock being squeezed almost painfully by your trembling body at his intrusion. Morpheus kept his body still against yours, whispering more praises and words of relaxation in your ear. It confused you, the idea of an intimate act causing pain or at the very least uncomfortableness the first time someone with female anatomy partook in the sexual activity. But your thoughts about why it had to be uncomfortable were displaced by Morpheus’s lips gently adoration every inch of your face, chin and neck. Moaning from the slight discomfort of your walls being stretched, you tried your hardest not to sink your nails into Morpheus’s back. Then that stinging sensation slowly dissipated and a different one took it’s place. Pleasure. You moaned once more, but this wasn’t a moan of pain, but one of pleasure.
Maneuvering his hand beneath your chin, Morpheus brushed his lips over yours. He could feel the little hitches of breath in your throat and could certainly feel the way your walls stopped protesting his cock and started clenching instead. You then dragged your nails down his back and opened your eyes to stare into his with bright hunger. Morpheus was pure ecstasy and was twisting your essence with his. Your shifted your leg further up his waist and pushed your mouth against his, reversing the kiss for a change by tugging on Morpheus’s lip until he let you sweet in. He was not opposed in the slightest. His fingers tightened around your chin and held your lips to his, crushing them together. Then Morpheus pulled his cock back until just the head remained, then pushed back into your body. You let out a strangled gasp against Morpheus’s lips, allowing him to retake control over your fiery tongue.
You whined and bucked beneath Morpheus, wanting more than just slow and gentle thrusts. It was like he was dangling pleasure just within your reach and then sharply jerking it back before you could take hold. How could he be so cruel to you? Rather than let you squirm, Morpheus used his body weight and hips to pin you down. You sucked in a deep breath at the feeling of his pelvis pressing so closely to yours. Morpheus chuckled softly against your lips and his thumb caressed your jaw.
“Patience, my Hope,” He chided you, pressing gentle kisses to the corners of your mouth. You huffed at him and reached up to tug on his beautiful onyx strands.
“I’ve been waiting long enough, haven’t I?” You softly complained, your face pressing into his as you gave him a look. “Surely you don’t think that I am that breakable, my Dream.” Amusement crossed Morpheus face and just to give you a little taste of what you taunted him with, Morpheus’s next thrust was faster, deeper, harder. The result was beautiful. You arched up into his chest with a strained moan, display the beautiful skin of your neck to him. Morpheus had never seen such a heavenly sight before. He silently conceded that you were right, you weren’t going to break beneath him. So dropping his lips to your outstretched neck, Morpheus wrapped his hand around your hip and rutted into your body.
His lips were not teasing on your neck, no, they were devouring. He licked, sucked, and bit with every intention to mark your untouched flesh with his mark. You began scratching at his back, gasping and gurgling with every thrust that buried Morpheus’s cock deep within your post. Somehow, he managed to slide against a spot that made electricity run up your spine and hit a place deep within your cunt that made you see stars. You squeezed him tight with both your legs and walls. Morpheus grunted from the way your walls squeezed his cock and his mouth broke it’s suction against your skin. So that’s how you wished to be? His lips curled and running his nose down your chest, he licked a bold line across your nipple.
You cried out, your nails raking hard down the smooth plane of his Morpheus’s back. Red marks were left behind. Liking the way you sounded when airing out your ecstasy, Morpheus gently bit at the soft flesh of your breast, teasing it with his teeth. Your chest pushed up against his mouth and your nails scraped his scalp. Star filled blue eyes lifted to your face, you just caught the tail end of a delicious smirk before Morpheus pressed his lips back against your breast, sealing his mouth over your nipple. Your proceeding cry of pleasure was caught in your throat as pleasure ricocheted through your body, threatening to rip you apart at the seams.
The pulses of your channel were pushing Morpheus to the brink and releasing your breast, he slipped his hands behind your neck and buried his face into your delicate skin. You started to shudder beneath him and Morpheus could feel you almost breaking apart. Panting into your neck and entirely intoxicated by your sweet scent and taste, he whispered all his love for you until you clenched around his cock fiercely and your seams broke. You came around his cock with a strangled cry and just from the way you were squeezing him now, Morpheus followed right behind you. He came within you, spreading his seed to all reaches of your cunt while you clawed at his back.
The moment your body released itself from its taut state, your glowing eyes searched for Morpheus’s. He lifted his face from your neck, leisurely sliding his mouth along the pronounced tendon until mercury eyes met yours. A shiver went up your spine at what you saw.
Insatiable hunger.
Long after you and Morpheus had made love until your spiritual beings had escaped your physical bodies and wound with each other in their own love making, you finally returned to your physical being and stretched out on Morpheus. You finally felt complete, whole, and it was all because of Morpheus. That little feeling in the back of your mind telling you that something was missing, was finally gone. You hummed in eternal happiness.
Morpheus stroked his fingers along your shoulder and then down your back. He had his eyes closed and was lazily checking in on his realm while holding your body within his arms. You were staring at the realm beyond the balcony, marveling at the beauty of The Dreaming. Your mind, however, was wondering to what you could feel within your body. Aches, lingering pain, love, adoration. It was fulfilling. Sighing out, you slowly withdrew yourself from Morpheus’s arms and slipped from the bed. Morpheus’s eyes flickered open and he watched you as you walked over to the fabric of your dress. When you bent over to retrieve it, you gave him a wonder view of your ass and then of the moisture that had leaked from your cunt after he had filled you over and over, still clinging to your inner thigh. There was a glimmering streak of red before fabric diminished his view, circling your waist and returning you to your proper state.
Morpheus was never going to forget who had sullied your innocence, taken your purity. Neither would he forget the way you softly moaned in his ear as he lazily thrust into your body. He definitely wouldn’t forget the way your limbs clung to him, making sure that he went as deep as your body would allow. Or how you hungrily kissed him… Morpheus briefly closed his eyes, settling his body down from the mental pictures of you within his arms, blissed out.
“Leaving so soon?” He prompted softly as you unsuccessfully adjusted the straps of your dress over the places where he had marked your skin. You let out an adorable growl and materialized yourself a gossamer cloak to wrap around your shoulders. Deep down Morpheus disliked the idea of you hiding his love and adoration for you, but it was for the best. You glanced over your shoulder at him, your still slightly swollen lips curving at a corner.
“Apologies, my Dream, but surely you understand that I must return to my realm. Tis the busy season.” You reminded him as you tied the cloak around your neck. You walked back over to the side of the bed he was nearest to, lounging in a way that looked far to heavenly to depart from and smiled. “As desirous as your company is, my people await me.” Morpheus’s lips twitched and he reached for your hand. His fingers curled around yours and he drew your knuckles to his mouth.
“Safe travels, my Hope, though I doubt you need such sentiment.” You chuckled and reached to brush your fingers over his lips. You would never tire of their softness, or how they felt pressed against your own, or your skin.
“Of course not, but it is always nice to hear,” Your touch lingered on his lower lip. “As long as my gates remain open, anyone is welcome in my realm, no formal request needed,” Morpheus’s eyes sparkled at your insinuation. Your feather light touches were the last thing Morpheus felt before you disappeared from his realm in a swirl of stardust and flower petals. Your sweet scent lingered in his room and the Dream Lord remained there until it faded.
Date Published: 1/30/23
Last Edit: 1/30/23
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#morpheus x reader#morpheus#lord morpheus#sandman x reader#the sandman x reader#dream of the endless x reader#dream x reader#dream the endless#dream of the endless#the sandman netflix#the sandman#dream the endless x reader
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Better love hard
Pairing: Jennie x Lisa
Warnings: Plain smut, have fun
Summary: Lisa comes back home after almost a month of tiring promotions. Luckily, Jennie is waiting for her with open arms. And her boxers tight around her hips.
(Cedits: https://ar.pinterest.com/pin/470907704793255000/)
Lisa mumbles a few grateful words to her manager before getting out of the car.
She’s exhausted. She at least had the vision of exchanging a pair of killer high heels for her comfiest sneakers just before the plane ride. Now, she grants herself the benefit of swaying lazily from one feet to the other, leisurely making her way back inside her home.
It’s been a lot. Almost one month of chaotic promotions abroad, show after show, event after event, and both her body and mind are currently begging for some well-deserved rest.
She opens the door carefully, mindful of the time. The moon has been shining spotlessly for long by now, and Lisa knows, just by the immediate silence he finds in the living room, that her cats must be all spread out throughout the house, snoring after a day of jumping on one another.
Then, she steps further into the hall and makes a pause. Her ears catch the sound of muffled pop music rumbling from the kitchen, mixed with the velvety tones of a smooth, sweet voice.
Lisa’s heart grows three sizes in her chest and a rush of pure joy brings a dizzy smile in her face. Out of all the things she missed from the comfort of her routine, her girlfriend stands out as the one she craved the most.
A new wave of energy tingles through her limbs just by the prospect of having the brunette pressed into her arms. In a rush, Lisa moves to the kitchen, her pulse already quickening under her skin.
She makes a full pause just by the kitchen door, her doe stare growing immediately gassy at the sight before her.
Jennie is mindlessly working on the stove, softly swaying her hips as she hums along the rhythm of the upbeat music. Her hair falls in shiny, natural waves until her mid-back, just some inches after the end of her worn off crop top. The warm lights hanging above her moving figure hit her just in the right places, creating bright spots and caves of shadows that make Lisa’s breath hitch in disbelief.
But most importantly, the rest of the outfit. The heating system of the house allows the brunette to keep it light, merely choosing a pair of tight boxers to attempt to cover just barely half of her curves. Lisa needs to make the actual physical effort of not drooling out of honest craving. Proudly, in bold black letters contrasting to stark white, the boxer’s band sings her birth name, again and again.
The blonde does not wait any longer. The slight tickle of a possessive emotion puts her into motion, finally, finally letting herself be noticed by her girl.
“Well, isn’t this a lovely sight to come back home to?”
Jennie turns around first in a startle but then letting a grin spread open and wide in her stunned face.
Lisa scoots her into her embrace with delicacy.
“Oh my god! You are back!”, the brunette squeals, letting her lean arms wrap themselves around Lisa’s neck. She needs to tiptoe slightly, and the small gesture makes the blonde tighten her grip out of pure adoration.
“I’m back”, she answers simply, both to her girlfriend and to herself. A sweet, enchanting scent overwhelms her senses and Lisa can’t help but to let her nose run through the brunette’s neck.
Jennie sighs, her shoulders visible relaxing. The long distance took a toll on her, too.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’d be over. It’s just- I missed you so much… oh”.
Her speech is cut short by the striking sensation of her girlfriend pressing open-mouthed kisses against her throat. Jennie leaves her mouth hanging open, blissed out.
“I love you”, Lisa mutters, her mouth still burning against the shorter girl’s skin, “I love you here. I love this. I love you like this”, she whispers finally, her long fingers itching down to grasp Jennie’s ass.
The brunette lets out a mewling sound before desperately searching down with her face, silently asking for attention.
The blonde does not disappoint. She catches Jennie’s lips in a slow, deep kiss that has them both melting into soft whimpers. Lisa’s fingers trace the embroidery of her name almost reverently before searching down to press her girlfriend against her once again. When Jennie takes a second to breathe, the tallest girl ties their tongues together, curling just enough to make the brunette’s knees fail under her weight.
“Oh, are we needy?”, Jennie manages to tease, her voice coming out rough and breathless.
Lisa bites her lower lip as she presses the shortest girl against the counter.
“I don’t know”, she answers, angling down to suck on the brunette’s collarbones, making her shiver. “Are we?”
The blonde’s long fingers sneak up the old crop top. Steady indents move around Jennie’s chest with utmost skill, playful, and the brunette can’t help but to buck her hips against the tallest girl, growing impatient.
“The stove”, she manages to utter, her body betraying her words as she keeps aching towards Lisa’s mouth. “I’m making your favorite”.
The blonde chuckles darkly. The teasing sound sends a dull shock right into Jennie’s core. Lisa merely leans over to her right to turn the device off before going back to her waiting girlfriend.
“Oh, love. This is my favorite”.
Lisa pulls Jennie into a messy, loud kiss as she accommodates to press her toned thigh just in between her legs. The brunette whimpers openly, both out of relief and renewed need. She moves her hips by her own at first finding delight in the sharp friction.
“You look so pretty like this, Jen”, the blonde murmurs, her voice mixing with Jennie’s broken sounds. “So needy against my leg. Wetting my boxers”.
Lisa rises her thigh just a bit, and the brunette whines. She keeps thrusting up in a steady pace, growing more and more desperate, the feeling on her core both delicious and maddening.
“Lisa- please. Love, I’m-”
She wants more. Anything. She feels the burning in her lower stomach growing explosive, threatening.
“You want my fingers, sweetie?”
“Yes”, Jennie chants. Her movements falter slightly. “Yes, please”.
Lisa grumbles in disagreement before grasping her girlfriend’s hips tightly. She pushes up and down her leg in a delirious pace, coaxing a rough moan to escape from the brunette’s throat. Her tongue melts into the heat of the shortest girl’s mouth once again.
“No”, she states between kisses. “I want you to come right into my boxers”.
Jennie can only hiss between her girlfriend’s assault. She’s so riled up, humping against her leg in utter need, letting out lewd noises without control. Her eyes have rolled up against her skull and it feels so, so fucking good-
“You like that, angel? Putting my clothes on just to let everybody know that you are taken?”
The brunette whines, nodding desperately. She’s so close, steadily clenching around nothing. Lisa’s draws tight circles on her breast before deciding to suckle with abandon.
“So fucking hot. And all mine, aren’t you?”
The thrusts become more shallow. Lisa lets her right hand fall sharply against her ass in a half-playful gesture.
It makes Jennie see stars.
“Tell me who you belong to, Jen. Come on”.
“You- ah. You, Lisa. I’m yours”, the brunette mumbles between broken moans, and the blonde angles her thigh up.
It’s enough. She’s falling into a toe-curling white bliss that makes her mind grow hazy. It almost hurts, shaking desperately while feeling so empty, and she’s about to whimper a complaint when her girlfriend’s fingers fill her up in a whim.
“Oh- Oh! Lisa, fuck. Please!”
The blonde hums, tonguing her neck. She lets her hands fall into a gentle motion, long indents pressing a memorized patter inside her girlfriend.
“It’s okay, sunshine. Let me take care of you. You are so good to me”.
Jennie is left with no options, really, but even if she had some, she’d chose staying like that, grinding down her lover’s hand, eyes closed and plump lips wide open. It’s perfect. The well-known heat spreads throughout her body once again, and she feels so complete, so full, so loved.
She is pulled into another kiss and Lisa’s movements grow quicker. Wet, squelching noses fill out the room alongside the still running music and it’s all overwhelmingly beautiful. Jennie clenches around her girlfriend’s fingers.
“That’s it, love. Come for me. You are so beautiful. Fuck, I wish I could fuck you all the time”.
It’s both the prying thumb added to the mixture and the dirty words whispered by her girlfriend that make Jennie fall down once again, this time in a softer, more lingering rush of bliss that has her panting against a needy kiss.
It takes her a few seconds to regain her senses. In the midst, Lisa pulls away carefully but still locks her around her embrace.
“I love you so much”, Jennie murmurs finally, her cat-like gaze growing softer as she focuses on her girlfriend. “I missed you so much, too. Never leave for that long again”.
Lisa lets her nose rub against the brunette’s.
“Then move in”, she simply states. “We’ve been together for so long, and- I just… I want to have you all the time. I know it would probably be a bit messy at-”
“Yes”.
Lisa blinks twice before smiling widely.
“But first, let me return the favor, you experienced traveler”. Jennie murmurs, her smooth voice dropping an octave, “and probably take my undies off. This one’s completely ruined”.
The blonde closes her eyes at the feeling of her girlfriend’s lips biting her earlobe.
“No worries, love. You won’t be needing then anytime soon”.
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Pink Chains (cont.)
Kyotani owns a grunge /punk apparel shop after leaving the Sendai Frogs after a incident with the Black Jackals. He designs his own clothes and hires Oikawa & Iwaizumi as his employees. Everything goes smoothly for awhile, till you walk in; pink dress, big smile , and bubbly personality. His whole life stops in that moment.
Punk! Kyotani x Bubbly F! reader. Aka my favorite cliche trope. It lives in my head every second of the day.
Brief Violence
The rest of the first half and all ive got so far ! / first half at the bottom !!
Your home was a cheap studio apartment not far from the college; a small studio with a cute bed by the window , a table with a bunch of markers with a big sketchbook sitting in the middle . You had the basic needs and a little couch in the corner but no tv , but there was a little pink cat bed next to the couch.
Kyo stuffed his hands in his pockets looking around the studio , it was weird being in a small studio for him since he has a home . Everything seemed shoved into one or two spots. He sat down on the couch and you were looking a little embarrassed, fussing with your dress .
“I know its not much but ! Its my little space heh, Mocha is probably in her little house sleeping. She will wake up soon though now that im home !!!” You picked up some clothes out of a basket. “Ill be right back , make yourself at home!”
“Okay sweetie.” He leaned forward dipping his head down to look in the cat hut . He could see a tiny kitten sleeping in it and smirked leaning back into the couch getting comfortable, well as much as he could in tight jeans. Kyo peeled his jacket off and pulled his phone out to check it .
Group Chat
Mattsun/ picture
Oikawa/ OOOOOO
Iwaizumi/ i knew pink was your color
Kyotonai/ guess where i am
Iwaizumi/well i dont see you so not at home
Oikawa/ are you at her house ?!?
Kyotani/yep, invited me to stay the night
Mattsun/ oh my , how adult
Kyotani/ shut up Mattsun
Oikawa/ hope you brought condoms
Iwaizumi/ be gentle with her
Kyotani/we aint gonna fuck i just didint want to leave yet
Oikawa/ 😙😙😙😗😙😙😙
Mattsun/ 😳😳😳😳😳
Iwaizumi/ 😒
Kyotani / i hate all of you
Iwa,Kawa, Mattsun/ 💕💞♥️
Kyo put his phone on the table when he saw you come out of the restroom, you were wearing a red panda shirt and matching shorts . Mocha emerged from her home too and meowed for attention . Kyo could not stop looking at you, so cute, so , so cute..
“Mocha! �� you bent down and picked up the brown kitten taking a seat next to Kyo to show him. “Shes a rescue ! I saw her all alone and i just had to help her.”
Kyo took the kitten from you and set it on his lap to pet her. “Shes cute” he leaned back tugging at his jeans trying to relax.
“Whats wrong?” You asked, Kyos lap to pet the happy kitten.
“Had these jeans on all day, i dont want to.. make you uncomfortable.”
Mocha nuzzled into Kyos stomach getting comfy and looked like she was not movin for any reason.
“I dont mine but.. you better do it fast because Mocha is not gonna care that you wanna take em off.”
Gently he lifted to kitten to fuss with his belt , you giggled getting up and grabbing your sketchbook. “Can i show you.. heh my drawings.”
“Of course sweetie, you draw?” He asked , pulling his jeans down with one hand and Mocha in the other. Kyo had on black and pink boxers . “Ugn finally..” he set Mocha back on his lap and placed the jeans on his jacket feeling a little unsure if he should have taken em off.
You hid behind your sketchbook when you saw him on the couch in his boxers. Kyo had tone legs from volleyball and a few tattoos on his legs along with some bruises and knicks.
Kyo looked down at Mocha feeling a little embarrassed. Why were skinny jeans so damn uncomfortable after a while? He asked as he pet the little kitten.
You sat down with him criss cross with the sketchbook on your lap. “Yep! I'm in college for art and design. I want to one day get picked up by a clothing store and have my drawings on shirts”
Kyo leaned towards you looking over the sketches with wide eyes. They might have been all cute things; like kittens, red pandas, hearts, patterns and space but they were so damn good. “You have a real talent these are awesome.”
“Really?!?”
“Yes sweetie. Id put these on my shirts. Oh that reminds me..”
“Oh my gosh!! Kyo that would be so cool!” Gently you placed the sketchbook on the table and looked at Kyo, he was a looking a little unsure of himself. “Whats wrong..?”
“Why exactly did you come into my store ? Ive never seen you in it before”
“ uhm Kyo.. you have a shirt in the window with kittens on it.. so.. “
He laughed wrapping his arm around you making you laugh too. “My ‘Sad Day’ shirt? With all the grumpy cats?”
“Its so cute, how could I not!!!” You hit his chest lightly not liking his tone.
“Okay okay.” Lightly he grabbed one of your hands holding it close. “Happy you did, really.” His eyes drifted off you and around the room.
“Kyo?” You inched closer, picking Mocha up leaning down to place her in her hut.
Kyo picked you up and sat you down on his lap facing him, placing his hands at your hips. He leaned back spreading his legs. “Yes? Sweetie..?” You could feel he was a little hard, it was really hot between your legs..
“Im happy i did too.. i really like you.”
His heart thumped a few times. “First girl to say that to me…” he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch to support his head. “I wasn't the nicest guy in highschool, i'll never forget the day Yahaba slammed me into that wall and told me to get my shit together.”
You looked a little sad at his words, Kyo only mentioned his aggression one other time but even then he sounded upset and full of regret.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him , cupping his cheeks so he would look at you. His eyes told you ‘yes, yes please.’ But.. “No, i just want to hold you if that's okay.”
“Okay. If we fall asleep my alarm is going to go off at 8 so sorry in advance.” You got comfortable on his lap and Kyo tipped your chin up so you were looking at him.
“Would you be more comfortable on the bed?”
“Yes i think so. I dont think i can sleep like this. Hehe.”
Kyo gripped your hips picking you up, he stepped over Mochas hut and brought you to the bed to lay down with you, his face a little red. You latched onto his sleeve closing your eyes and drifting off. “Night Kyo..”
“G’night sweetie..”
Fuck what was he doing ? Talking about it will help.. right? Kyo had to wait a bit before you were fully asleep to get up and grab his phone.
Kyotani/ Iwaizumi
Iwaizumi/ Yes
Kytotani/ keep this between us
Iwaizumi/ you didn't hit it and ditch did you?
Kyotani/ what? No.
Iwaizumi/ are you scared to make it official Kyo
Kyo stared at the text for a few minutes reading it over and over .
Iwaizumi/ is it the anger issues
He squeezed his phone and sat down on the couch dialing his phone.
“Im scared ill lash out or something”
“Mm.. when was the last time that happened again?”
“The Tourney against the Black Jackals.”
“Ah yes, think Kei had to pry you off Bokuto or something right?”
“Yes… Iwaizumi i can't lash out at her. I just can't, i mentioned Yahaba and that day and she asked if i wanted to talk about it”
“You said ’no’, didn't you” Sigh “Kyotani she's not a threat, she's not an enemy . She's literally just a girl who likes you. Open up to her”
“How.”
“Uuhhmmmm, tell her you want to talk about it. I'm going to bed. You can do this Kyotani”
He hung up .
Kyo rubbed his face for a minute and glanced at you for a minute then back to his phone opening up Messages.
Kyotani/ Mattsun i know your asleep but invite Yahaba to the beach volleyball.
He set his phone down and very slowly made his way back to you. He wrapped his arms around your sleeping body and shut his eyes tight trying to sleep.
**
In the morning Kyo was awake early browsing on his phone, he stared at the screen for a minute before pressing Play on the video.
-flash back-
‘Another score for the Black Jackals!!! It is Match Point !!! ‘
The Sendai frogs were tired, sweaty and losing this Tournament. The Black Jackals were still full of energy and ready to go . It was a very hard game for both sides and Bokuto kept testing Kyotani, this was the first time he met the loud grey haired boy and he just did not like him. He knew Hinata but he did not like him too much.
Kyotani was doing better at keeping his temper under control and his team figured out how to hype him up without making him angry. Kei was not too fond of him but then again he did not really need to be, they just needed to be on the same page on the court.
That owl boy though, he was loud, annoying , and just testing him. Kyotani knew it, every serve, block, and spike was for him to clear or get rid of . Kyotani got hit with the ball a couple times and thats when he lost it.
‘Kyotani has taken another hit from the ball!!!’ Yelled the annoucer .
“Hey hey hey?!! Eye on the ball yea!??”
“Dont let it get to you” Kei told him .
“.........”
“..Kyot-“
He was on the other side of the net ontop of Bokuto punching him .The whole building was dead silent.
The last thing Kyotani remembered was hearing the announcer describe what was happening and Kei pulling him off of Bokuto.
He quit the Sendai Frogs that day, took his last check and left not looking back. He opened an apparel shop he called The Dog House and got in touch with his old highschool teammates starting over.
-end flashback-
You woke up to see Kyos hand on your head , you were not fully awake so you just laid there enjoying the nice feeling on your head. Mocha had also joined you in bed and was between you both sleeping. Kyo smelled like leather… an old leather that was renewed, it made your nose crinkle a bit. Looking up you saw he had a collar tattoo with spikes on it on his wrist . It was kinda silly but kinda cute too , although you wondered what it meant.
A minute later your alarm went off and you whimpered letting Kyo know you were awake. He let go of your head to slam your alarm clock off. He looked upset or angry in the face, and he was still staring at his phone.
Slowly you got up and gently placed Mocha on your pillow so you could scoot closer to him. “Kyo? Did you get any sleep?”
“I have to show you something.” He said as he turned his phone to you pressing Play again.
You were holding the phone now, it was alot heavier than yours . You had watched the video a couple times and everytime Kyo punched Bokuto you flinched. After the second time you placed the phone down to sit facing him.
“Kyo..”
He looked the other way running his hand through his hair.
“Kyo?”
He wanted to run away so bad. Start over again. Someplace without people like -
“Kyo.”
You were between his legs now , he had his knees up and was resting his elbows on them and still did not look at you. Dammit Mad Dog just say something to her, she's right there, dont shut her out.. dont shut..
You grabbed his face turning his head, kissing him, catching him very off guard. Kyo fell back taking you with him . You had no intention of stopping and just kissed him more and more even though he cursed between breaths. Kyo grabbed you lifting you up off his face and chest. You frowned at him and sat down on his lap once he let you go, cheeks flushed and very embarrassed.
“S..swee..sweetie”
“You aren't like that anymore!” You told him while you rubbed your eyes.
“Sweetie no don't cry please..” he sat up taking you in his arms rubbing your back in circles. “Sshh..”
“Please.. talk to me..” You sniffled into his neck squeezing him tight.
Kyo was shaking .. you were shaking . He laid his head on your neck starting from the beginning.. the very beginning. Every few minutes he would stop to check if you were still crying. He would cup your face and wipe under your eyes and ask ‘Are you Afraid of Me’ and you shook your head saying ���No’ every single time. You were both tearing up by the end of it, Kyotani told you about Yahaba, Highschool after Iwa & Kawa graduated , how he became a Pro and Bokuto. The look on his face just made you so sad and seeing you sad was something he never wanted to see.
“Sweetie.. how , how can.”
“I like you Kyo, a lot. I'm not scared, never will be.”
“I'm so scared ill lash out at you sweetie.”
You grabbed his hand holding it and running a hand up and down his sleeve while you talked. “Kyo.. you let me touch your wolves. When we first met in your shop i noticed you were rubbing it a lot , like you were worried or you thought id just out right touch it”
“I..”
You kissed him again and wiped your eyes free of stray tears. “I want to be with you Kyo, i wanna.. see red pandas with you”
He laughed at that and so did you.
“I already said i'd take you didint i?” He asked cupping your face .
“Just making sure you know i really wanna go heh..”
“I know sweetie, believe me i know.” Kyo kissed you and you blushed wrapping your arms around him.
The alarm went off again too.
••
@zoppzoop @mocha-babes @haikyuu-but-low-iq @milkbreadcat @kozushiki
••
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Ok a scene from your fics that is glued in my brain is all aboard all over again Remus seeing Harry for the first time and freaking out then Harry opens his eyes and he starts seeing lily in him….you wrote through those emotions so well I was holding my breath while reading lol I loved it!!
Ah! I love that you picked this one. It's one of my least read fics.
All Aboard All Over Again is a two-chapter fic from Remus's POV as he gets back on the Hogwarts Express in POA. The first chapter is Remus showing up and remembering all of his friends as he gets ready to go back to Hogwarts. Chapter 2 is the Dementor scene with Harry & Co. The section mentioned in this ask is: (rather long, so continued below the cut)
Also, just a note, the flashback is part of The night the world collapsed, which is Remus going to Godric's Hollow Oct 31, 1981.
The dementor does not leave. It draws another rattling breath, and Remus knows that it won’t just leave. It knows its prey isn't here, but it still wants, needs, seeks.
Remus raises his wand and hopes that it will be enough. He hadn't been able to cast a patronus in twelve years. All his happy memories are now tainted. He was never able to concentrate on any previously happy memory without also wondering if Sirius had turned before then, if the plan to hurt Lily and James and Harry was already in motion, if he was already lying to them all.
But Remus realizes that he doesn't need to focus on a happy memory for this patronus. He simply let himself believe, in that moment, that he is not alone . On the floor at his feet lay James, always dramatic and surely about to pop up and laugh. The redheaded girl is Lily, sitting across from James. Remus could feel her roll her eyes, a witty retort hanging from her lips. The blond haired boy was Peter, quiet and off to the side but alive . They are all alive. They are alive, and Remus isn't alone.
continue reading below the cut
The incantation falls from his lips like it is made to come from his mouth. He sees the patronus seep out of his wand tip, the snout of the wolf just beginning to form before he refocuses his energy on creating a non-corporeal patronus. The dementor recoils backwards, away from the thick fog he has created, and leaves the train. He pushes the door to the compartment closed, and leaned against his hand on the door for just a moment. A dementor and a patronus the day after a full moon took a lot out of him. The lights came on, and the train began to move.
"Harry? Harry!"
"Is he alright?"
"Try to wake him!"
“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”
Remus turns and looks down at the small body still on the floor behind him, and nearly loses his legs out from under him. He was torn back in time, to a little house in a little village on Halloween night.
~*~
Remus walked into the sitting room, and at first, nothing seemed out of place. A fire burned in the fireplace, and the hearth was covered with framed pictures of James and Lily and Harry. The sight of them almost made him smile.
Almost.
But then, Remus caught sight of the back of the sitting room, where the stairs led up to the second floor. For the second time that night, Remus's legs gave out, and he found himself on the floor. There, at the base of the stairs, was James.
He looked as though his body had been tossed aside. Remus swallowed hard when he realized he probably had been. His arms jutted out at sharp angles. He lay on his stomach, but his head was turned toward Remus. His eyes were open, unblinking, staring. Dead. The spark that was so classically James was gone. It was James, but it also very much was not James.
~*~
Seeing James - not James - on the floor now, after having just let himself believe that this was James, feels a lot like seeing James dead on the floor of his house in Godric's Hollow all over again. He feels the renewed loss all over again. His heart breaks all over again. Twelve years was nothing. Time doesn't heal all wounds, because chance and circumstance can rip them wide open again.
James is dead. Peter is dead. Lily is dead. And Sirius… And Sirius...
He couldn't do it. He couldn't think that Sirius is dead because it is Sirius' fault that he is on this train and in this car and that there had been a dementor and that this boy is... alone. Just like Remus.
James - not James. James is dead.
Harry opens his eyes, and suddenly Remus could see that this was not James. It is the eyes that broke the illusion. James' warm hazel eyes are missing from the face in front of him. Remus allows himself to notice, then, the combination of Lily and James. Harry looks so much like James, but he looks like Lily too. Now that Remus permits himself to look, he sees that Harry's chin is actually slightly softer than James's, and his brow creased the way Lily's did. They were small changes to the face that would be James's, but it cools the panic in Remus to see the subtleties that only someone who knew them well would see. James and Lily are dead, but Harry is alive.
#snitch answers asks#all aboard all over again#poor remus#his POV is always so sad#wolfstar#jily#angst#just in time for the end of jilytober
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pacific rim (kaijou) - fight
i started outlining a pacific rim au a loooong time ago and it’s probably never going to get turned into a full fledge fanfiction, but i like what i have enough that i don’t want to let it go. i cleaned up some scenes i’ve already written, and i’m just going to drop them here so somebody can enjoy them.
characters Joey Wheeler/Seto Kaiba
rating T
warnings Minor Violence, Gozaburo’s Alive
Joey Wheeler is brought on board the Shatterdome to pilot the latest addition to the Jaeger lineup: Ultimate Dragon. Now he’s just got to find someone who’s drift compatible.
Ranger testing was everyone’s favorite day in the Shatterdome. Those marked for drift compatibility gathered into the training room, with the crowd of support staff and Rangers watching eagerly from the sidelines. They packed into the doorway, laughing and taking bets as the recruits waited, staffs in hand. Seto’s eyes drifted to the already paired Muto brothers and their new companion. Wheeler had an easy indifference to him, hands stuffed in the open military coat. Yugi laughed with him, and Yami’s gaze glanced Seto’s way. He returned to looking over the Ranger files. Behind him, Gozaburo was a rock.
The crowd settled, and Yugi shoved Wheeler forward. Wheeler took the staff and held it like a question. There wasn’t an ounce of formal training in his stance. Seto kept his expression steady as Wheeler shot his idiot grin his way. At least watching him get knocked on his ass would be an entertaining way of spending the afternoon.
But, of course, the universe liked to disappoint Seto in the worst of ways.
Wheeler was clumsy with the stick, but he took no prisoners. The first candidate took the brunt of the training staff to the face, bloodying his nose, and Wheeler was sharply reminded this wasn’t an actual fight. The next two were dropped to the ground in easy succession. The only person who he didn’t hit out right away was Valentine, who matched him hit for hit before she hooked a leg under his and knocked him onto the flat of his back, her staff stopping an inch from his face. He laughed it off as she helped him up, and then Valentine swung the staff around, landing another point at his neck.
Seto scoffed as he marked her off the list. With most of their hopefuls diminished, Wheeler was standing alone. He whirled around on the platform where Seto and the general stood, anger pinching the corners of his lips.
“You got something to say?” Wheeler sneered.
Seto didn’t bother to look at him, and from the corner of his eye he could see Wheeler’s grip tighten on the staff. “I’ve got plenty,” he said. “You’re not trying to win, Wheeler. Compatibility isn’t a game of dominance. And you were going easy on her.”
Valentine flipped her hair back as she returned to formation. Her tone was playful, but her pride was on display. “You can’t blame him for that, Kaiba. Most guys don’t fight a girl as pretty as me.”
Seto did allow his eyes to draw up, and he stared Wheeler down. “You can’t hold back.”
Wheeler’s chin drew up, and he crossed the staff over his shoulders. “Why don’t you come down here and show me?”
He laughed. “You wouldn’t last two seconds against me, Wheeler.”
“Yeah, alright.” He grinned again, giving a theatrical look to his audience. “If you’re chicken.”
Seto’s fingers gripped the edge of his data reader, and his blue eyes bore cold fury over his opponent. Wheeler only smiled back at him. On the platform behind him, the mountain moved, and Seto’s throat went dry at the sound of Gozaburo’s voice.
“That man issued you a challenge,” the general said.
Seto looked at him, teeth grinding down. He set aside his equipment and let his blue coat drop to the floor as he took up a staff. The crowd pressed forward with renewed interest. The Muto twins shared the same nervous expression, but he focused his attention on Wheeler as he stepped down onto the mats. Wheeler held his staff lazily, body slouched back, but there was a kinetic energy drawing in the tight muscles of his arm. Seto twirled his staff for the show of it as the two circled each other.
It wasn’t a surprise that Wheeler struck first. It was an ugly thing too, telegraphed from across the room. He swung the staff up, and Seto blocked it easily, using the momentum to strike at Wheeler’s neck. Seto stopped the momentum an inch from his skin, and Wheeler flinched. His brown eyes drew up to Seto. The joviality was burned out of him by an anger broiling underneath. They took a step apart to reset. One-zero.
Wheeler moved again, arching the stick to hit Seto straight on, and when Seto rose to block it, he dropped, landing a hit to Seto’s stomach. One-one.
Seto didn’t give him a chance to reset. He swung his staff to Wheeler’s knees, but he managed a block. Offering no reprieve, Seto hit for Wheeler’s shoulder, which clacked against his staff, and then his stomach. When Wheeler blocked him this time, Seto wedged his stick and pulled, forcing the staff from Wheeler’s lax grip. It spun across the room and clattered to the ground. Wheeler was defenseless now, and Seto took the moment to gloat, until Wheeler’s fist flew at him, stopping short enough of his ear that he could feel the air rushing past. His hand unfolded, and he flicked Seto in the side of the head.
One-two.
Someone snickered in the audience, and white hot rage burned through Seto. He could feel Gozaburo’s gaze on his back, and Wheeler was smiling again, like he’d gotten the upperhand, like he was enjoying making a fool out of him. When Seto’s hands moved, it was not in the controlled measure. He slammed his staff into Wheeler’s stomach. Two-two. Wheeler staggered back as a heavy breath escaped him, but the second swing he dodged. His arms went up in a boxer’s stance as he avoided every strike, and when his wild swing hit nothing but air, Wheeler punched Seto’s rib. The shot was heavy enough to knock him back, but Seto wasn’t about to give up. He dodged the blow meant for his face and shouted as he launched himself at Wheeler. The two landed on the ground with a heavy thud, both gripping onto Seto’s staff as they grappled against each other. Seto pinned Wheeler to the floor with his knees and they both put the full force of their strength into the contest. Seto’s breath felt ragged in his throat as he bore his icy gaze down on his opponent. Wheeler thought he could touch him that he could strike him like they were equals as though taking his Dragon wasn’t enough when he was just a deadbeat nobody who’d gotten lucky. Rage clouded his head and his vision, and Wheeler twisted beneath him as they both fought for control, and then like a knife Gozaburo’s voice said, “That’s enough.”
Neither let go, but slowly the struggle stopped. Wheeler was looking up at him wild wild eyes, chest moving heavily, his golden hair stuck to his sweat slicked face. Finally, against every instinct screaming inside of him, Seto released the staff, and he stood. His hands were red, his side ached. He steadied his breathing as much as he could, aware that the room was quiet, that the whole of the Shatterdome was watching. Seto turned and stopped when he saw Gozaburo’s face. He was smiling.
“It’s clear who the best candidates are,” he said, and dread washed over Seto like ice cold water. “You’ll both report to the Shatterdome in two hours.”
Seto was happy his back was turned to the others. His mouth dropped open, and he stuttered out, “You can’t be serious--”
“My decision is made,” he said. “Two hours.”
Giving Seto no chance to argue, he turned and walked away. Seto stood there, fists curling, and Wheeler managed to his feet behind him. Realization clicked too late.
“No way,” Wheeler said. “I’m not getting into any machine with you.”
Seto didn’t dare turn around. He didn’t know what he would do. If he would scream, or shake him, or just resign himself to this fate. There was no changing the general’s mind. The choice was made. He and Wheeler would walk into Ultimate Dragon, and hopefully, if they were lucky, walk out again in one piece.
#pacific rim is a movie about the world coming together and learning to trust and rely on each other to face their biggest threats#and i'm like what if they were terrible instead#that's not true they'll get there#i think this might be the only time i've written yami into a fanfiction so that's fun#kaijou#pacific rim au#my fanfic#i have not kept up with consistent tagging
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Finding Prince Charming
Summary: Reader is captured by a werewolf and then rescued by Sam and Dean, who she’d never met before.
Word Count: 3495
Pairings: developing Sam x Reader
Warnings: decent amount of angst, violence, a death, description of injuries… I think that’s it? AND FLUFF
A/N: Would love feedback.. Please let me know what you think. I don’t write often, so however I can make my writing better, I’d love to try! Also, I didn’t really research any medical stuff, so if there are inaccuracies, I apologize! This is also un-beta'ed, so sorry for any mistakes!
You were running. You didn’t know how far you’d gone or how long you’d been going, but you were too scared to stop. Over your labored breaths, you could hear hoarse growls coming from behind you.
As your feet pounded the ground, your arms pumping, you risked a glance behind you. As you turned your head, your hair flopped across your face. Panicked, you brushed at it with your hand. The thing you were running from was several yards behind you, but, unfortunately, was still there.
You didn’t know exactly what it was, but you knew it had started out looking like a ridiculously attractive man. The man had approached you at the bar and offered to buy you a drink. He’d introduced himself as Tristan. Tall, tan, white teeth, hair that was ruffled as if it was sex hair, and a broad chest just made for cuddling against. Of course you didn’t say no. Being single and looking for a fun night, you’d commenced your usual flirtations.
You didn’t realize he wasn’t a human until you had headed for the car with him, and you saw his reflection in the side-view mirror. Tristan heard your gasp and had apparently decided to hell with it, because he lunged as a fanged, clawed non-human. So you did the first thing you could think of, which was to pepper spray him and run. You mentally thanked the Lord that you’d worn flat boots.
The pepper spray had given you a big enough lead that he hadn’t caught you yet – apparently he wasn’t very fast – but you didn’t know how to get rid of him. He was too close for you to ditch.
You ran past a closed Starbucks, and then realized where you were. There was a 24/7 Walgreens store just a block away. If you could get that far, you’d be safe. Energy renewed, you pumped your arms faster, spurring your deadening legs to move more quickly.
The buildings on the block blurred as your speed and desperation increased. You hadn’t heard a growl since you’d checked over your shoulder, and you didn’t dare check again. The Walgreens came into view and you almost cried with relief.
As you closed the distance between you and the door to a few yards, you felt something massive grip your bicep tightly from behind, and yank you backwards. Before you could scream for help, you felt a searing pain in the back of your head and all went black.
When you came to, you were tied to a chair in a dank, dark room. It smelled like dead fish, and you couldn’t help but gag at the initial smell. You hear a chuckle come from across the room. Your eyes weren’t adjusting fast enough, so you squinted, trying to get a better look at thing that chuckled. It was the Tristan-monster.
“Tristan? What are you? Cause dude, you fugly.*” You did your best not to draw back into the chair when he stood up abruptly and stalked towards you. Thrusting your chin forward defiantly, you said rudely, “Why am I here? Cause if you kill me, I’m gonna be pissed. And then I’ll come back and haunt your ass.”
Tristan sank to his knees in front of you, allowing you to look straight at him instead of straight up. He spoke for the first time with his fangs and claws out, and said, “Y/N, why did you run? You made things so much more complicated for yourself.” Tristan’s voice was gravelly and deep, and held a hint of frustration and disappointment.
“Why did I run?! Oh let me think for a second.. Maybe because I saw a massive, sharp-toothed monster in my car’s mirror? It’s called self-preservation, genius.” You rolled your eyes at him, wondering if he was genuinely surprised or just being a tool.
Tristan growled when you called him a monster, and his claws elongated as he stared angrily at you. Your eyes widened and you could do nothing but watch as he pulled his arm back to rip you a new one – quite literally.
You couldn’t help the scream that ripped itself from your throat as he swung at your shoulder. His claws tore through your muscle like it was water. All you could think about was the pain; the white hot, searing pain that raged in your shoulder.
Tears streamed down your face as you tried to curl yourself around your wound. But Tristan’s attack wasn’t finished. He swung at you again, his claws raking down your side leaving deep oozing gashes. Your macho attitude officially snuffed out, you screamed again, shaking with pain.
The third hit left you fearing your ribs were laid bare. Your torso was in shreds. Tristan’s claws had rent from your collarbone all the way down to your shorts. Vaguely, you realized you were soaked in your own blood. Even as you tried to lean away from Tristan, you started to lose consciousness as the pain and blood loss began to take their toll.
However, no swing came. You heard three gunshots, and Tristan’s growls stopped. Moving your eyes to him, you saw him on the floor, blood spreading from his body. As darkness overtook you, you made out two tall shapes running towards you.
When you came to, all you saw was white. Were you in heaven? You raised your head an inch and looked around. You saw monitors and tubes, and then you heard bleeping. Nope. Not heaven. The hospital. In a chair next to your bed, you saw a man slumped, asleep. You had no idea who he was, so you took a moment to study him. He had long hair, for a guy. He had a bit of scruff, and was most certainly not hard to look at. He was in a red flannel shirt and dirty, ripped jeans. The circles under his eyes were dark, and you wondered how much he actually got to sleep.
As if he felt your eyes on him, he stirred and opened his eyes. You made eye contact and he immediately shifted to lean forward. He cleared his throat, and said, “Hey! Glad you’re awake. Doctors weren’t sure when you would wake up. How are you feeling?” His green eyes were gentle and inquisitive, and you found yourself getting lost in them.
Realizing you hadn’t answered the question, you quickly did a self-assessment and responded, “I’m fine, actually… I don’t feel much right now. Must be the pain meds. How did I get here? And sorry, who are you?” Your curiosity was eating you up.
“Oh! Sorry, I’m Sam. Me and my brother, Dean, we found you in the warehouse. We brought you here.” Sam blushed slightly, which you found surprisingly adorable.
“Hi Sam, I’m Y/N. I, uh… I don’t remember much after the Tristan-monster attacked me,- ” you stopped and closed your eyes briefly. You’d said Tristan-monster out loud. Sam was smiling widely when you opened your eyes, and through your embarrassment, you found it a very attractive smile. He had the cutest dimples you’d ever seen. You leaned your head back and groaned, “I can’t believe I actually said that.”
Sam’s smile turned into a laugh, but he took pity and said, “Hey, I’m not judging. It seems like an accurate assessment if Tristan was his name.”
His comment made you think of something. You tilted your head at him. “What on earth were you doing in that warehouse to begin with? No one in their right mind would go to a place that stank that badly of dead fish.”
Sam chuckled, managing to look slightly uncomfortable at the same time. He looked at you for a few seconds, chewing his bottom lip, as if he was internally debating what he should say. You decided to help him out, and said softly, “The truth would be nice, if that helps at all.”
He huffed quietly and cleared his throat again. “Well, Dean and I were looking for your Tristan-monster. He was a werewolf. We’d tracked him to the warehouse, when we heard you were in there too.” At this point, he looked away guiltily. “Nothing seemed out of control, so we didn’t want to rush in with our guns half cocked. But… turns out you were there, and that cost you. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Your sympathy swelling, you reached out for his hand. Sam put his hand in yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand gently.
“It’s ok, Sam. Really. I got myself into that mess. Should have known someone that good looking and charming was too good to be true...” You trailed off bitterly.
Sam squeezed your hand. “Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” He waited until you dragged your eyes to him before continuing. “It’s not your fault. This happens to the best people for no good reason. It’s awful that Tristan picked you, but think about it this way. You made it. You survived. If you can get through that hell, you’ll make it through whatever life throws at you. And after shit like that, I hope life throws you everything good you could possibly want. Maybe you’ll even have your Prince Charming thrown at you.” Sam looked at you with soft eyes and you couldn’t help but melt a little.
You loved how sincere he was. You gave him a small smile. “Well, once I get out of here, maybe my good life will start with dinner with you.” You glanced at him shyly, not really regretting your inquiry.
Sam leaned forward slightly and said softly, “I think I’d like that. But you’ve got a long recovery ahead, Y/N. You had a real one over done on you.” His smile faded slightly as he thought about the extent of your injuries.
Before he could say anything, though, your stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard halfway across the world. You blushed deeply and quipped, “Before we talk about how much I got screwed up, is there any way I could have something to eat? I think my stomach wants to eat itself, it's so hungry.”
Your comment surprised a laugh out of Sam, and he let go of your hand and got to his feet. “Of course. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Still chuckling, he strode out of the room quickly.
A couple minutes after Sam left, a nurse bustled in. She was beautiful and young, but looked comfortable in her role; she’d been here a while.
She smiled warmly at you and said, “Hi honey, good to see you awake. I’m Laura, and I’m gonna check your bandages, ok?”
Something was warning you about her, but you shrugged it off, blaming your lack of trust on your trauma. “Ok, thanks Laura.”
She pulled some clean bandages out from a cabinet near your bed and started trying to make conversation. “You know, whoever gave you those lacerations really worked you over. We were worried we were going to lose you for a while there.”
You narrowed your eyes in confusion. “A while there? How long have I been here?”
Laura looked at you in surprise. “No one’s told you? You’ve been here for three days. Two men who found you brought you in. You have a severe concussion, your shoulder muscle was ripped to shreds, and sweetheart, I won’t even go into how bad the wound on your chest and stomach was. Let’s just say after surgery and a lot of stitches later, you were stabilized.”
You weren’t sure how to react. You knew Tristan had practically killed you, but hearing it voiced was scary. And three days? Holy hell. He must have hit you upside the head a lot harder than you thought. Laura’s hands moving to your bandages brought you back to reality. You almost didn’t want to look while she prepared to change them.
As she pulled the bandages back, you hissed through your teeth. Thank God you were on serious pain medication, because the wounds looked like they would hurt like a mother. Stitches and staples were all over your torso. Your left shoulder had so many staples you were surprised there was still skin showing. The gashes from your collarbone to your hips were stitched and stapled, but they were terrifying. You knew they were all going to scar.
A sharp prick redirected your attention to Laura. She was no longer smiling, and she stared down at you with a mixture of disgust and smugness on her face. You looked at her, confusion all over your face. “What did you just inject me with?” you asked, trying not to panic. Laura tossed away the syringe, and sneered at you. “You think you can get away with killing my mate? His stench is all over you. Did you honestly think he was alone? He was my world and you took him from me!” Her lip curled in anger as her eyes filled with hate.
“I just injected you with poison,” Laura continued, hate in her voice. “An injection of this particular type will give you a nice, long, slow death. I didn’t do enough to kill you, though. Oh no. I’m going to drag this out. You’re going to suffer for taking Tristan from me!” Laura’s hair had started to fall out of its bun from the angry shakes that racked her body.
As she watched you, you felt a pain in your chest. You gasped at the sharpness of it. You started to curl, but found it hurt more because of your injuries. The pain centered on your heart, and you arched your back slightly. You were too weak to do anything more than moan in agony.
As it faded, Laura shot you with the syringe again. You shook your head, desperate for the pain to stop. “Please, stop…” you gasp. “Please. I didn’t kill Tristan!” Tears rolled down your cheeks as your clenched your eyes shut in pain.
Suddenly, a familiar voice yelled, “Hey! Drop the syringe!”
Your red-rimmed eyes snapped open and you saw Sam drop a bag of food as he launched himself at Laura.
It was clear Sam knew how to fight. He easily overpowered Laura and as he knelt on her back, he pulled a knife from his boot. But Laura was too angry for Sam to hold for long. With a chilling growl, she morphed into a female version of the Tristan-monster - the werewolf- with the claws and fangs. Sam was thrown across the room against a wall of cabinets. Through your pain-hazed eyes, you saw his head snap back and contact the wall with a sharp crack.
Laura stalked toward him, her claws slowly extending. Sam, slumped on the ground, looked around for something to fight her off with. Panicked, your eyes swept the room, trying to help from your bed. You stop your sweep when you see the syringe on the floor not two feet from your bedside table.
Rolling your eyes, you knew you would regret what you were about to do. With a grunt, you let yourself fall out of bed. You made sure to land on your right side, but the impact still jarred you to your core. Your vision went dark for a second as you fought to stay conscious. You shook your head. Sam needed help. Grabbing the syringe, you hauled yourself to your feet and yelled weakly, “Sam!” and tossed the syringe.
His head spun in your direction and he caught the syringe right as Laura let loose a terrifying snarl and lunged at him. You screamed despite yourself as your view of Sam was blocked by Laura’s attack.
You heard Sam grunt and then Laura was shoved away from him. She staggered away, clutching her heart. Sam staggered to his feet, the syringe clutched tightly in his hand. He’d injected her in the heart. A full dose. Both of you watched warily as she yelled in pain, and then collapsed.
Sam felt for her pulse, and when he found none, he stumbled to you. He was bleeding from a shallow cut to his cheek, but he paid it no attention as he grabbed you. His hands ghosted over you, checking for further injury. You sobbed, losing any semblance of composure you had left.
“She injected me in the arm with that stuff,” you cried. “Twice! I’m so scared. It hurts so bad,” you moaned as you started to drop to the floor. Sam immediately called for a doctor as he caught you. A doctor must’ve been close, because one hurried into the room at Sam’s yell. Sam explained the nurse had injected you with poison, to which the doctor’s jaw dropped. He hurried out and returned a couple minutes later with a generic antidote and security. Dropping to his knees, he gently injected you and sat back, waiting to see what would happen. While he attended to you, security grabbed the nurse from the floor and carried her to another room, where she was placed in handcuffs and inspected. You later heard she was pronounced dead almost immediately.
Still holding you, Sam wrapped his arms around you, low enough so that he wouldn’t mess up your injuries further and pulled you onto the bed. Once there, you leaned against his chest and turned your head into the crook of his neck, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes no matter how hard you tried to stop. The pain was slowing, a feeling of warmth chasing the pain through your body.
“It’s going away,” you mumbled. The doctor nodded and said, “I need to check your vitals to make sure you’re stable after that poison was injected. Let me have your good arm.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around your arm and took your blood pressure. It was a little high, but considering the trauma you’d been through, he accepted it. Grabbing a thermometer he ran it over your forehead and behind your ear. Your temperature was ok, coming down as the poison left your body. The doctor nodded to himself. “You seem stable. I’m going to let you two be for a while. I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.”
The two of you stayed like that for a long time, and you eventually cried yourself to sleep. You woke to voices talking quietly. You could feel Sam’s voice rumbling deep in his chest and you found yourself thinking you could get used to feeling that.
Then the reality of your situation sank in, and your eyes flew open. You immediately saw a man sitting in the chair next to the bed. He was also in a flannel shirt and jeans. He had incredibly green eyes and he was deep in conversation with Sam. You flashed back to your conversation with Sam earlier. This must be Dean.
Dean’s eyes flickered to you as he talked and he realized you were awake. “Y/N!” he exclaimed. “Sam, she’s awake.” Dean held his hand out, “Hi, I’m Dean. I understand you helped save my little brother. Thank you!” He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
You took his hand shyly, smiling back. “I think you guys saved my ass first, and Sam here saved it again earlier… So I think tossing him a syringe is the least I could do.” You looked up at Sam and then again back at Dean. “Thank YOU. And thank you for getting me here. I would have died if not for you two.”
As you spoke, you snuggled deeper into Sam’s arms. Maybe you’d only met him that day, but you knew that you felt safe around him. Sam squeezed you gently in response, and you felt your hair move as he spoke next to your head.
“So, Y/N. You’re patched up enough that you can check out if you want to. And,” Sam hesitated briefly before he continued. “Well, we were wondering if you wanted to come with us. We have a place a couple hours from here where you can recuperate and get back to full strength.” You smiled as he talked, already knowing your answer. “Call us overprotective, but after that nurse went loco, we want to be able to keep an eye on you while you finish healing.”
You craned your head as far as you could and beamed up at him. “Sam, when you told me life would throw me my Prince Charming, I didn’t realize he’d already shown up.”
Sam gave you a big smile and pressed his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss, giving you an unspoken vow that he would always be there. “I’m here for you, always.”
Your moment was interrupted by Dean clearing his throat. “Um, guys? Yeah, still here. Get a room. But first… Y/N. You don’t happen to have a sister do you?”
#supernatural fan fic#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fanfiction#readerinsert#supernaturalfandom#supernatural#deascheck#sam winchester
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Blurred Lines | Tom Holland x Male!Reader
Words: 2198
Request: hello, if the requests are open (because I really don't know where I can see that) and if it's not too much to ask, you could do one where Tom is trying to learn some lines for a movie but as he has dyslexia (something I discovered from a photo on Instagram), Tom becomes sensitive so the reader helps him with that, then Tom cries and the rest I leave it to you as you want😅
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With his back to the door, Tom sat behind his desk. From the doorpost, you watch dark clouds gather above him. You could sense the frustration hanging about him—his chin resting on a tightly clenched fist. Once in a while, his other hand laced through his curls. Murmuring inaudible things to himself. Gaze stuck to the pages with endless lines for his next project. The fact that Tom didn't learn his lines on the coffee table or in the corner of your big, cozy couch was a definitive red flag. Usually, he would be all around the house. Practicing his lines, sharing his thoughts. His enthusiasm dragging you into enacting his favorite scenes with you. But not this time.
You take careful steps into the room, taking a seat beside the desk. "I've made you tea." Sliding the cup slowly across the wooden surface, resting your chin on the palm of your hand, quietly observing Tom, letting your presence sink in.
"Thanks..." He mumbled with his eyes stuck to the paper. Not paying you any attention. Watching him retrace the same line over and over again with his finger. A big draw of breath moves his hunched and depressing pose. "You know…" The mutters in a downcast tone you already dread hearing. It's gut-wrenching to see Tom like this. Quiet and turned to himself. "... I'm not-" Releasing a long sigh of frustration while shaking his head. Swallowing half his sentence. As sharp as his jawline already was, it sharpened even more as his jaw clenched hard. Struggling to regain his temper. His feet tapping the floor unimpeded. With a quick turn of his head, he eyed the door you came through. Rushing from his seat to close it. Just a tad bit too harsh as it collided with the frame. The loud slam resonating through the room and into the hallway. Poor Tessa. You only manage to catch a few fleeting words as he utters something about a draft before returning to this seat. His figure more hunched and leaning into the desk.
"Tom…" You try to reach him again. "What's bothering you?" With one hand, you slowly rub his shoulder.
By now, you got to know Tom well. You have to let him fume, release his frustrations. There were never personally directed at you. But stressful times could bare down hard on him. And even Tom had his limits. His sleep became irregular, mood swings to the extreme. And self-esteem at an all-time low. Tom became sensitive to so many things. Irritated by the simplest things. Sounds, simple gusts of wind, beams of light, reflections off surfaces. Stirring your coffee with a spoon could set something off. Everything was distracting him. The only remedy was allowing him to vent.
"It's just…!" He snarls, throwing his pencil to the wall. "I can't do it!" His voice boomed. Full of rage and frustration. Slamming his fist onto the paper, as if to punish it. "The words!" Tom wheezes while his nostrils flares angrily. "I have four more days, two of which are travel." He hangs back in his chair. Raking his fingers through his curls in frustration. "And I can't get these fucking lines into my bloody brain." Knocking a few papers from the stack with an aggravated swoop of his hand. He continues to avert any sort of contact with you. Staring at the ceiling while combing his fingers through his curls. They were unkempt. Tom didn't even bother to. A mess. That's what he was. His shirt was wrinkled, litter all-around—cups and wrappers from candy. Tom's shirt hangs loosely around his frame, his shoulders hanging low.
You re-seat yourself on the chair. Allowing your eyes to run across the lines. But before you are able to utter another word, Tom's ramble continues. His emotions finally let loose because of one thing. His eyes connect with yours. You stare into his eyes for a moment. Captivated by his pain. His misery. You only respond with a small smile—a reassuring one. Words wouldn't help.
"I won't!" He yells out. "I… just, I... can't do it!" Rubbing his hands across his face, shielding them from you. His breathing is heavy as everything else turns quiet. Just the two of you. He seemed so conflicted, shaking his head. Mumbling things to himself. "Everyone expects so much from me… and -and…" His voice suddenly breaks, seeing his chest heave up and down. Slow sobs begin to rack his frame. "I… can't." Tears start to stream freely down his cheek as you take his hands away. They tremble uncontrollably. Revealing his red teared up eyes. "I can't do it (Y/N)." He said while his whole body was taken over by the shaking from his sobs.
"Poor thing." You manage to get out as lump formed in your throat. "C' mere." Pulling him towards you, taking his shaking body on your lap, as he locks his arms around you. Burying his face against the side of your neck. Slow sobs turn into long sorrowful wails. Paused by moments of him recovering his breath. "It's going to be alright." Stroking your hand along his back. "It's ok, Tom…" Whispering soothing words into his ear.
"T-The words… they j-just d-don't stick." He snickers, clinging onto you for dear life. Seeking safety and comfort. Like a terrified infant. Rocking him slowly to and through. He felt broken. All his defenses washed away into tears. And you let him weep, howling at his insecurities. It's difficult to make out words as he continues to sob in between hicked breaths. "One moment they dance, the other they make no sense." Hugging himself tightly against you. "It takes so much energy. I… I can't do it." He weeps. "I just can't…"
"That's ok." Combing his curled up locks of beautiful brown hair with your fingers. You press a gentle kiss behind his ear. Tom was all warm to the touch, your shirt all wet and moist from his tears. The sobs trembling his frame to his very core. "Hey…" You whisper. "Listen…" Trying to get his attention as he slowly begins to calm down. Pushing the strands of brown curled hair from his forehead. Planting a kiss there. "Let's take a break." Lifting his face by his chin. Tom's gaze full of sorrow and misery. "Clear your mind. Find some fresh motivation, renew your energy, and start over."
"But, there's simply no time." No more tears came, but his lip jutted out, trembling.
"I'm here for you, Tom." Stroking your hand through his luscious curls. Feeling his breathing slow down. The tension in his frame subsiding. "I'm going to help."
"B-But... how?" Rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, being all runny. "I… don't know how."
"Hop in the gym. Release your frustration." You give him a reassuring smile, pressing your lips on his. "It'll help."
"Are you sure…?" Looking at you with big sad puppy eyes. "Don't you hate working out…?"
"I'm not going to." You chuckle. "You some time alone. I'll be here. I'll help you."
For a while, he said nothing, rising to his feet, standing there, digesting the information. His head hanging low. Gaze plastered to the floor. The exhaustion evident on him, as he weighed up the words. He looked hollowed out. "Ok…" He nodded, followed by a long weary sigh. Dragging his feet across the floor. With that, he disappears from the room. You turn your attention to his script. Highlighting his lines, putting on straps of paper, and more. It pained you to see Tom like this. But this time, you were prepared. Moments later, you hear the sound of progress. Sporting equipment being used vigorously, a boxing ball getting punished, and heavy weights slamming up and down.
"Babe!" Tom rounds the corner into the living room. Eyes glued to his script. "How'd… you-?" Reading through the many edited pages. "This is amazing!" To your relief, you see that cute smile returning to his features. Tom finally being himself again. Outgoing and joyful.
"Once you feel like it, let me hear your lines." You say with a growing smile. His happy response made the whole place light up again. The darkened mood finally gone from the air. "I've got plenty of space on this couch." Giving him a wink while opening a spot for him. The L shaped couch had this perfect spot in the corner. Cushions and blankets, space to stretch your legs. From day one, it's been a battle who sat there first.
"You're a lifesaver, you know that?" Jumping on the couch, thanking you with a long deep kiss. Before curling into your embrace between the blankets and cushions. His back snuggled up tight against your chest, allowing you to put an arm around his torso. "How did you figure this out?" He asks, pulling the blankets back into position.
"I knew it hindered you. I've seen you struggle before. But I wasn't aware how much more it affected you on set."
"I'm not proud of it." He sighs. "But please understand I wasn't trying to hide that from you on purpose. I... just didn't want you to worry."
"It's alright." Resting your head against his. "I'm just glad Harrison told me." Feeling all dreamy and happy Tom was himself again. "That's why I took a sort of course on it."
"Are you... for real?" He turned and raised himself on his arms, hovering mere inches away from you. A look of wonder painted across his face.
"I am, I've got the certificate lying around here somewhere." You said with a stretching smile. Actually feeling a bit proud of it. "I did because I wanted to get a better understanding of it all. The differences and variants and all that. But most importantly, how to help someone who has it. To help you. To lend you a hand. Give you tips and tricks. Because for me, it's been incredibly difficult to see you struggle. I've felt helpless for long enough."
"Darling." Tom lying on top of your chest, dragging himself upwards to kiss you. "That's incredible. But how'd you manage that besides the rest you do? You already have so little time for yourself. If you'd ask-..."
"Tom, I know you. If I'd ask you... you would have said no. I mean… you can be quite stubborn." Booping his nose with your finger. "You're a hardworking guy. You can take on the whole world if you need to. You played in the biggest movies with the greatest of actors. And turned into one. You became a role model for an entire generation. You're at the top of your career." Combing your fingers through his lovely brown curls, sighing dreamily. "And you deserve every bit of it. Yet there's so much weight on your shoulders. The eyes of the world are on you all the time. So, if there's one thing that hinders you from doing the things you love. I'll do anything to help you with that."
"Oh my God, babe..." His eyes sparkled with life, staring deep into yours with adoration, joy, and pride. You pull him closer to you. Feeling so comfortable together. Watching him, sucking on his lower lip, eyes slowly turning red, rubbing his face with one hand. Slow and steady, a small tear began to roll down his cheeks. You manage to catch it with the pad of your thumb before Tom connects his lips with yours. A passionate and loving kiss, deepening it by the grace of this hands on your cheek. "That is the sweetest thing you ever said to me." Crossing his arm on your chest, head on top, swaying with the heaves off your breathing.
"Tom, what does it say about a person, who faces his personal dilemma every single day, head-on, so he can do the thing he loves doing most?" Pressing a kiss on his forehead. "That takes guts. Determination. And a ton of it as well. I admire that in you. I really do."
"Shit..." Pushing the tears from his eyes. "I… I never knew you thought of me like that. I feel even more terrible about today. I'm so sorry." Kissing your lips in rapid succession.
"Don't stress it, we all have our off days." Pulling his soft lips back onto yours. "Even Spiderman."
"Tell me, love, what's your secret?" Snuggling closer to you. "You're always so calm. Always smiling. You radiate peace. How do you do it? It's like you don't have bad days."
"It's because of you, Tommy. I have you…"
"That leaves me with little to top that." A smile of pure joy and pride beamed onto you. "You're really special to me, you realize that?" He is cupping your cheeks with both his hands, leaning into you, and taking your lips onto his. Following into a long, tender kiss to strengthen his words. "I love you so much."
"I'll always be there for you, Tom." Feeling a small tear roll down your cheek. "Always."
The brown-eyed boy's gaze was so intense, so unbroken. Full of love. "I'll be with you." He whispers back. "Till' the very end."
#tom holland x reader#tom holland x male reader#tom holland x male!reader#tom holland x you#tom holland one shot#tom holland male reader#tom holland male!reader#male reader#male!reader#tom holland request#requests#male reader request
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How would Chris tend to reader on her birthday when barely anyone celebrated her day. Smut included. 🤗
Hey Anon, I’m so, so sorry this took FOREVER. 😔 I’m gonna tackle this headcanon style. This is the first thing I’ve really written in a few days. I might be rusty. I hope it’s good and that you like it.
Warning: Small Angst, Mild Smut
Words: 2.2k
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It’s your birthday and you’ve been looking forward to it all month. You’re one of those who counts down to the day and as it draws closer you’re more and more excited.
You don’t expect a parade and a skywriter or anything incredibly extravagant but you expect to feel special because you make everyone feel special on their birthday. They’re a big deal for you.
The morning of your birthday you wake expecting an onslaught of text messages wishing you a happy birthday but you wake up to two. One from your mother and one from your father wishing you in sweet heartfelt messages a happy birthday. They are sweet messages and do the trick in giving you a big smile and a warm heart to start your day.
As you go about your day and arriving at work your coworkers greet you with sporadic “HBD” words. They sound insincere like they’re just words to them no matter if their smiles are big.
You sit down to see messages from Chris come in.
MSG Chris: Happy Birthday to the most beautiful, sweetest, sexiest, funniest, smartest, bestest girlfriend in the world. I love you.
That right there was like a jolt of the strongest coffee but instead of it giving you energy, it swells your heart to the point of bursting. Chris always had a way with words. You could always count on him to make you feel special.
MSG: Thank you, baby. ❤️❤️
His message was enough to forget that everyone was acting like it was just another day. You didn’t expect your birthday to be the most important thing to anyone but you wanted it to matter.
MSG Chris: How is my birthday queen?
MSG: Eh. You’re the third person to actually sound sincere about my birthday. The first two were my parents and they don’t count, they’re my parents.
MSG Chris: Oh honey, I’m sorry.
MSG: Do I sound like a self-centered brat?
MSG Chris: Of course not. You’re always there for everyone, it’s understandable you’d want others to be there for your achievements as you’ve always been.
He was right. You just wanted to feel the love and right now you weren’t. Throughout the day you tried not to let your mood swing over to the hostile side. You got messages and calls from your friends but again they were pretty lackluster. You thanked each of them and ignored the sadness that threatened to overtake you.
What made things even more aggravating was you had to work later than usual. When everything was said and done, you didn’t leave work until seven. By that time you were absolutely fed up and done with the day. You just wanted it to be over.
When you got home you walked inside. You were expecting a dark, empty home because Chris was away filming and wouldn’t be back for another five weeks. What you got was the opposite.
Chris stood there with Dodger at his feet with candles, rose petals, and balloons everywhere.
“Happy Birthday sweetheart!”
Instantly tears well in your eyes at the sight before you. It was such a beautiful sight and even more beautiful because it was unexpected.
“Are you gonna stand there all night or come and give me a hug?”
As soon as he says the words you rushing across to him leaping into his arms to wrap your legs around his waist. Dodger is on his hind legs pawing at the two of you for you to give him some attention.
As you’re kissing your tears are rolling and you’re thanking god that the two of you came into each other’s lives the way you did.
“I love you,” you whisper as you kiss him over and over.
“I love you more but we have all night for me to prove those words,” Chris replies with a devilish glint in his eyes. It makes you giggle like a shy schoolgirl.
“How many years are we celebrating tonight?”
You tell him how old you are knowing damn well he already knows.
“Ah, so it looks like that’s how many gifts I have to give you,” Chris said in between kisses to your neck.
“Gifts? What kind of gifts?” Your curiosity was piqued.
“Orgasmic gifts,” Chris slid in, his voice dropping several octaves eliciting sinful shivers down your spine.
“Say less, Evans,” you tease.
He allows you down to give Dodger a proper greeting. You spend the next half an hour playing with him, rolling around on the floor and pretending to bark with him as Chris looked on.
After Dodger was played out, with a nice oversized bone to enjoy Chris showed you the bath that was waiting for you. The two of you enjoyed a quiet, romantic bath where he massages every inch of you taking every bit of tension from you.
As you sit at the dinner table eating the gourmet meal Chris ordered and plated he tells you about filming and you fill him in on what he’d missed while being away.
Once he takes you into your shared bedroom you’re blown away again to see even more candles, flowers, and balloons strewn around the room. Everything was as if he’d planned every detail and not just threw it all together last minute.
When he gets you on the bed he takes his time placing kissing on every inch of exposed skin, appreciating every curve, slope, and dip of your shape. After twenty minutes of this, he doesn’t even look as if he is feeling any urgency to move along.
When you finally feel his lips wrap around your nipple you are so on edge that in seconds you were coming. Chris never let your body cool before he was bringing his lips lower to the apex of your thighs.
The way he licked, sucked and teased your skin said he was on a mission and your complete surrender was his ultimate goal. In no time at all your back is arched off the bed and your fingers are buried in his hair yanking his head bringing it wherever you wanted.
Soon you were rocking your sex across his lips using him and he didn’t seem to mind one bit.
“Fuck baby, right there. Yes, Yes, Yes!”
Chris’s slurps were the indication he didn’t mind the squirts you gave him, it said he wanted more especially as he sucked your clit into his mouth.
“Fuck!”
Sensing you were going to clamp your thighs shut with his head in between, Chris used his strength prying them apart to press them back onto the mattress leaving you completely wide open for him to so as he pleased.
Your screams were loud and you were glad the house was not too close to neighbors. As another orgasm took over you had the thought that he really was going to make it to your age by the time the night was over.
You tried to reciprocate, you wanted to make him feel as good as he was making you feel but he wouldn’t hear a thing of it. Every attempt you made he brushed off and continued to explore your body with his lips and tongue.
By the time he hovered over you, you were so open and needy for him that every second he wasn’t filling you up with the size of him you became impatient.
“I love you more than anything, Y/N. I’d do anything for you.”
The man always knew what to say. Slowly he sank into your heat and it had you instantly clenching around him. It had been three months too long. The way Chris’s body shook you knew though he probably had every intention of going slow he wouldn’t be able to.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Chris whispered into your ear. His lips brushed against your ear before he sucked your lobe into his mouth.
Chris’s strokes sped until he was plowing into you sending the cushioned headboard of your bed into the wall of your room with steady thunks. In the beginning days of your relationship, every time the headboard banged against the wall Dodger would bark and howl because he wasn’t sure what the hell the sound was. Now, there was not one peep from the adorable pup.
Suddenly, Chris stopped which had you tightening your legs around him.
“I didn’t plan on doing this now. I wanted it to be on a different day, I had it all planned out. it was going to be extravagant so you knew just how much I loved you and needed you but I can’t wait Y/N.” His voice was tight and restricted as if he were holding a lot back.
“What are you talking about Chris?”
“I love you and there is nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do for you. I have never felt this way about anyone in my life. You’re different and all that I ever want to wake up to, all that I ever want to kiss goodnight. I want it for the rest of my life.”
Realization filled you. Somehow you knew this was different than all the other times he’d told you that he wanted you for the rest of his life. Your belly quivered and goosebumps erupted all across your skin.
“Spend the rest of your life with me, Y/N. Spend the rest of your birthdays with me. Will you marry me?”
You were speechless. None of this was expected. You expected happy birthday messages and wishes, but you didn’t expect him here being sweet and thoughtful, or this. You felt his cock lurch inside you, bringing you back to what you were in the middle of.
“Really? Right now? Like this?”
Chris’s smile was bright before he chuckled. “I know, it’s the worst time, but I don’t want to wait anymore. I can’t wait anymore. I have to ask you. Put me out of my misery, baby.”
You pull him to your lips and kiss him like the world was ending. His moans are loud, and the two of you get lost in your kiss. You clench him tightly making him grunt on your lips. Chris thrust forward once, twice and a third making you moan along with him.
“Yes,” you whisper into his ear. Chris stops again and peers into your eyes trying to see if you were being serious or if it was an effect of the pleasure he was giving you.
“Yes,” you repeat more forcefully.
“Yes?”
“Yes, Chris. Yes, Yes, Yes!”
The joy you saw in his eyes was indescribable. He looked like the happiest man in the world. He thrusts forward again giving you all of him making you grunt as if you’d just taken a punch to the gut.
“Fuck!”
He didn’t stop again. He rocked into you with renewed vigor that had you once again arching your back off of the mattress. Within a few minutes, you both were screaming each other’s names at the top of your lungs. That was what brought Dodger’s barks. neither of you stopped, it would have been impossible to. As your combined orgasm stretched out, you both held onto each other as if you were each other’s lifeline.
When both of you came down Chris gazed into your eyes again with tenderness.
“Did you mean it?”
“With everything!”
He smiled widely and with it, you could see the emotion in the eyes you loved so much. Chris was off of you in seconds rushing out the door letting Dodger in to leap onto the bed to check if you were okay. You cuddled him showing him you were completely fine. Chris came back into the room after a few seconds. You couldn’t help but look over his naked body. Though the man had just gotten his nut he was still at attention already ready for another round.
“Eh-em, my eyes are up here,” Chris teased.
When you looked up to him he dropped to his knee at the side of the bed then opened the small box he held. A beautiful, double diamond ring that sat on black velvet. You pressed your fingertips to your lips in shock.
“To do this semi more traditionally. Will you marry me, Y/N?”
Your tears rolled down your cheeks as you nodded. “Yes.”
Chris smiled widely before he dove onto the bed to slid the ring onto your finger before he leaned against the headboard to watch you admire the jewel on your hand. when you looked back to him you smiled and cuddled beside him.
“I love you.”
“Was it a happy birthday soon to be Mrs. Evans?”
You giggled hearing the name that would soon be yours. It was surreal.
“The best one.” You kissed him again before you climbed onto his lap.
Dodger not being the one to not be the center of attention approached and licked both your faces making you both laugh. The next hour or so was spent cuddling with Dodger and Chris while you stared at your new accessory. It turned out to be a great birthday after all.
~~~~~~~~
I hope you like this anon. Thank you for the request and again, I’m sorry it is so late. ❤️
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Dressed Up For Halloween (Yoongi)
Summary: You go out with your friends for Halloween dressed up as Cat Woman. When you come back home, Yoongi’s reaction to your leather suit takes you pleasantly by surprise.
Warnings: SMUT! Be prepared for: swearing, erotic body touching, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter than this, guys!), doggy-style position, multiple orgasms (female receiving), overstimulating (female receiving) (just a bit), kitten/master play, kind of a leather kink.
Word Count: 3662
You weren’t much for Halloween, you really weren’t. You weren’t much for parties either or dressing up, and yet here you were, currently struggling to fit your oversized body into a very difficult fabric to put on – leather. You were honestly second guessing your decision to go with your friends to this party, even if they begged you to go and complete their quintuplet of ‘female badass characters’ as they put it. As if turns out, you were assigned to go as Cat Woman.
It took a while, much too longer than you wanted to admit, but eventually you did manage to get the suit on your body and could now focus on your hair and make-up, as well as the accessories. Knee-high boots on and not forgetting to put on the cat ears, you take one last look in the mirror.
“Hum, not bad” you say to yourself with a proud smile.
You did look hot in the costume, more than you thought you would. In your head the outfit would only enhance your bumps, cling in to the crevices of your rolls, but instead it smoothed them all out and created this nice line of your silhouette you were not expecting. Pleasantly surprised, you take that bit of confidence out with you to your friend’s house, where all the girls were to meet before going together to the party.
Not only was your boyfriend busy anyway to go out with you and your friends, Yoongi wasn’t much of a party person either. Knowing that, you didn’t even ask him to go, you just told him not to wait up for you since you didn’t know at what time you would be back. You were half-expecting him to end up staying all night in the studio, working until morning. Instead, when you return home at barely one o’clock in the morning, you notice his sneakers by the doorway as you enter the house and the light from the bedroom illuminated the hallway.
“Yoongi?” you call out as you take your coat off and hang your purse alongside it.
Forgetting to take your heels off, they clatter on the hardwood floor as you make your way to the bright room of the house.
“I’m here” he answers back, and you can tell he is yelling from the bedroom’s private bathroom. “Home so early?”
“Yeah, I got tired” you confess, sighing with relief as you throw yourself to the middle of the bed and close your eyes for a minute. “Couldn’t keep up with them. I’m sure they went out for another club or something, but I just wanted to come home.”
“It’s understandable, pumpkin. I don’t know why you keep going out with… them…”
You slowly open your eyes as Yoongi’s voice grows closer and suddenly fades away as he seemingly loses his train of thought. Standing in the doorway between the bedroom and the bathroom, was Yoongi, wearing an old red stripped long sleeved tee and some loose black pajama trousers, one towel around his neck that he was probably using to dry his wet hair. His light brown sugar skin was a lot more pinkish from the hot shower, his small lips plump red, short hair dripping droplets of water to his hands and the fluffy towel. He stood with lips slightly open, sharp eyes wider than usual.
“Are you done, baby?” you ask, sitting up on the bed with effort. “I should go and take a shower too, get out of this outfit and into my pajamas.”
You force yourself to jump up to your feet and walk towards the bathroom, intending on kissing Yoongi on the cheek as you walk by. But as you lean in, he rotates his body your way, one arm coming to stop you in your tracks as it curves around your waist and your lips land instead on his. He presses his warm lips softly on yours in a sweet smooch.
“Changing so quick? I’ve barely even appreciated the costume you’re wearing” he complains, keeping his hand at your hips so you can’t move away.
“Hum? Oh, yeah, I went as Cat Woman. What do you think?”
You give him a twirl so he sees the full effect of the outfit, kitty tail and all. He smiles and bites his bottom lip as he looks up and down, a coy stare once his eyes reach yours again.
“I quite like it. You look sexy in it. Is this real leather?”
His hands busy themselves at your sides, rubbing the material up and down, creating unintentionally – or maybe not – a fiery trail underneath your skin.
“No, it’s faux leather. The whole costume was only about fifty bucks, if I recall.” You can’t help but notice how his fingers are resistant to drop from the material in question, eyes glued to where his hands were. It makes you wonder. “Why? Are you a fan of leather by any chance?”
“I didn’t think I was. Maybe it’s just the way it looks on you.”
He says the last sentence peering at your eyes, the ebony irises in his getting slightly swallowed by the dark pupil. Your heart flips at that suggestion and you smile bashfully at the ground for a moment, puling your hair behind your ear.
“I can keep it on for a while longer, if you’d like” you propose, clasping your hand behind your back innocently.
“I would like that very much so” he agrees, leaning in as his hands circle around your sides to pull your back towards him, bodies flushed together as he joins his lips on yours again.
As his mouth distracts you with heart-warming caresses and butterfly-inducing nibbling, he slowly guides you backwards to the bed and it takes your back coming in contact with the mattress to even notice it. Hoovering above you, Yoongi kisses at your lips and jaw and neck a few more times before settling besides you on his side, one arm folded under his head and the other hand magnetized to the curve of your covered hip, brushing up and down the leather material with contentment.
“Tell me about your night out. Had fun before you grew tired?” he asks, curious eyes set on yours as you roll to your side too to face him.
“Yeah, it was fun. I haven’t seen my friends in a while, so it’s always a blast when we get all together like this. They just have a lot more energy than me for partying and stuff.”
The greedy hand moves up from your waist to your protruding stomach, drawing lines across the fabric until his hand rests just beneath the swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel your racing heart even with the clothing and your skin in between.
“Looking like this, I bet a lot of guys had their eyes on you” he whispers darkly, a tone sounding like something in between anger and regret. “I should have gone with you.”
“Babe, I didn’t even ask because I know you don’t like this stuff. I don’t really either, but I went because they’re my friends. And if anyone was looking, I certainly didn’t notice. I only have eyes for you, Yoongi.” You place a reassuring hand cradling his cute round face, thumb brushing his puffy cheek. Gosh, this man was just as adorable as he was sexy.
“I know, kitten. Still, don’t be afraid of asking me to do something just because you know I won’t like it. I do stuff all the time for the members that I don’t particularly care about, but I do it for them. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I don’t do the same for my girlfriend?” he explains.
The teasing hand had brushed just barely over your left breast and moved down your back until it landed on your clothed butt cheek, apparently focusing on cupping the lower flesh, those wonderful fingers just inches away from your sensitive center. You gulped and tried to fight back the surge of heat creeping in your cheeks.
“Okay, babe. But what was that you called me? ‘Kitten’? That’s new” you notice, smirking.
“Sounds fitted right now” he declared, eyes looking up at your cat ears and the hand at your rump grabs the leather tail and pulls on it, making you gasp at the sudden tug. “Why? Do you not like it?”
Yoongi moves from his laying position to come and hoover above your body with his upper weight supported by his arms. Lips pulled into a conceited smirk, hair still damp framing around his face, eyes looking lovingly into yours.
“I actually don’t really mind it at all” you confess, rolling to your back and pulling him in by his neck for a much-awaited kiss.
The insides of your lower belly tightened and waves of arousal coursed down your spine as his lips engaged fervently with yours in a sensual encounter. He was reverent and passionate, moving his head further to the right in order to kiss you deeper, teeth scrapping your lips in the process. You moan into his mouth and your fingers pull the fabric of his t-shirt up until you can feel his smooth skin of his back against the palm of your hands. You are still wearing your leather gloves, with only the fingertips bare, and Yoongi shudders at your touch. He moves up just enough for him to remove his shirt the rest of the way out, leaving him in his naked torso in a captivating view. Coming down to reattach his lips with the skin of your jaw and neck, your nails claw down his spine and leave red stripes behind, making him grunt against your ear.
“My kitten has some sharp claws” he murmurs. “Careful now, you don’t want to hurt your Master, do you?”
Oh, that brings a swooping feeling in your stomach and you can almost feel the pooling happening between your legs. Your dark eyes with barely any colour left that hadn’t been eaten away by the enlarged pupil search for his, veiled with absolute lust.
“Never, Master. I’ll be good” you promise. You witness Yoongi’s lips smirk further and a renews tinkle in his sharp eyes.
“Is that so?” he nibbles at the exposed skin on your neck and you meowl. “You’ll be my good, obedient kitten?”
“Yes” you breath out, shakily.
He stops all of his doings and pinches your sides just enough to get your attention.
“Yes, what?” he demands, in an overbearing tone.
“Y-Yes, Master” you rectify, much to his pleasure.
“Better. Now, shall we remove this entrapping clothing from my sweet kitten?”
You couldn’t have been more eager to do so. Your skin was sweating with anticipation, body overheating due to his kisses, womb drenched and dripping. As much as Yoongi seemed to appreciate the leather costume, you wanted nothing more than to get rid of it since it stood between you and his skin.
It took a while and thankfully Yoongi helped you without you even having to ask for it, dragging the big zipper down and slowly revealing your bare skin underneath, kissing it as it showed up. You were only half-undressed, trying to pull the fabric out of your thick legs, when he undid the hooks of your bra. You gasped, followed by a moan, when you felt his hands come from behind and squeeze at your tits, palming your erect nipples at first before purposely pulling and tweaking at them between his fingers. Your back arches and breath hitch on your throat.
“M-Master…!” you whine, clutching your legs together in search of some relief.
“Be a good kitten and take off the rest of the clothes. But leave the ears” he orders, hot breath against your ear that he proceeds to lick before stepping back and letting you do as he asks.
Boots gone and tight fabric forced off your skin, you stand now in front of him in nothing but black silky panties and your cat ears. Like he had done before, Yoongi takes his time to look you up and down as he licks his lips hungrily. The dark pajamas pants were tenting at his crotch and your fingers itched to reach for him. But he had other plans.
“Take your underwear off” he commands.
Biting your lip, you hook your thumbs on the sides of the panties and push them down your legs, noticing the large stain they already had at the center. You look back at Yoongi with a mixture f nervousness and pure excitement.
“On all fours in the middle of the bed. And I want your pussy soundly presented to me.”
You gulp in dry, goosebumps originating at the back of your neck and up your arms. Obeying, you face the headboard and stand in all fours, curving your back enough so that your ass is up in the air and you feel the coldness against your singing core. Your heart hammers against your ribcage strongly as you await his next move.
Two rough hands suddenly come in contact with your ass cheeks, making you gasp, and the thumbs spread you open for his pleasuring view.
“My kitten has such a pretty wet pussy” he praises, to which you can’t really respond other than hiding your face in the pillows and moaning.
“That’s it. Don’t fight back those beautiful sounds you make, do you hear me, kitten?” he encourages you.
Before you can even nod, not trusting your voice at the moment, you feel Yoongi’s lips and tongue sucking and slurping at your fleshy rear, leaving out trails of saliva on your warm skin that rapidly grow cold at the room’s air. His hands are grabbing you by the spot where your botty meets your upper thighs, kneading at the malleable skin while his mouth remains attached to your meaty bum.
Of course, that only turns your already drenched cunt basically dripping between your thighs, his actions building a bonfire inside your womb so wild that you worry it will burn your mind permanently. And then his expert tongue slips in between your puffy lower lips abruptly. You are sure the sounds that left your mouth were never made before and if your mind wasn’t gone before, it would be completely shattered now.
He is avid and determined, tongue trashing up and down your slit, circling your throbbing entrance, finding your clit and sucking on it between his lips. Your face is buried against the mattress and you feel like you can’t breathe, something building up and up and up deep inside you. In a merciful move, that warm slick tongue slides easily in your aching tunnel and swirls at your lavish inner walls in the most delectable way.
Your juices runs down his chin as he slurps your essence, his tongue never resting as it fucks you and when he takes his thumb to wiggle at your hard nub at the same time his tongue continues the maddening work, your break down crying into the sheets, hips writhing against his face, legs twitching before almost giving out, only continuing on your knees due to his hands holding your waist.
“Good kitten, let me hear you” he says as he takes one hand to clean his face, watching you go through your orgasm. “Ready for the real thing?”
You gasp and almost choke as your feel his rock-hard cock suddenly rubbing against your still very much tender center, his hands on your waist bringing your pelvis back a bit as he kneels behind you to find his position.
“M-Master, it’s too soon! I-I’m too sensitive, Master!” you squeal, clawing at the sheets beneath you and looking back at your boyfriend in a plea.
“I know, kitten. I’ll use it as an advantage. Are you thinking of starting to disobey me now?”
“N-No, of course not, Master” you abide, pressing your lips together and closing your eyes as he continues rubbing himself between your legs.
“Good. Now be a good kitten and let me use this pussy of yours.”
With that he shoves himself in, out of nowhere entering your carnal tunnel and stretching your sensitive inner walls just right. Again, you meowl loudly as you take him all in, feeling him hot and stiff inside, your walls pulsating around him at the frenzied beating of your heart.
The strokes start out lazy, in and out slowly, Yoongi’s slim hips receding back until only the head was still inside only to plunge back in deep. Your head feels like it’s about to explode and yet it’s like you are not close enough to actually do so, not when he kept the pace like so. It was a different kind of torture you were not used to, being already on the bridge of another release so soon after the last and staying there without the necessary stimulation to reach it.
“Master, please!...” you beg, your hips starting to wiggle on their own, hoping to quicken the rhythm.
“Please what, kitten?” he asks, his torso bending down so he can start kissing up your spine, to your shoulder blades and the back of your neck.
“Fa… Ahh!” you were about to respond when his hands found your hanging tits and tease the erect nubs with rough pinches and pulls. You whimper before fighting to gather your thoughts. “F-Faster, Master. Please!”
“Anything for such a well behaves kitten” he whispers in your ear hotly.
His hands come to rest at your shoulders, hankering himself as he continued bend down with his torso against your back, but his hips moving faster now. He is also breathing raggedly against the skin of the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his hair tingling your skin, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the bedroom completely. His staff drags against the walls of your womb at a magnificent speed and they graze at that spongy spot that makes you see stars behind your eyes, making you wetter than before.
“Fuck!” Yoongi curses when he slips out accidently, a frustrated whimper leaving your lips at the loss of him. But he just takes himself in hand and slams back in, continuing the pace as if nothing had ever happened.
Your face starts twisting and insides start throbbing as his cock continues his assault on your cunt, his thrusts now so short but powerful that not only is your inner g-spot being stimulated, his ball sack also starts hitting at your engorged little pearl repeatedly and a few more plunges after that is all it takes.
That delicious feeling at the bottom of your stomach erupts, the sparks of your second orgasm eradiating from your core, the languid relief of release making you lose your voice as you try to scream. All the muscles of your body start twitching at the spread of bliss, your womb fluttering around Yoongi’s cock like a vice.
Unable to control himself any longer, Yoongi’s thrusts grow sloppier and frenzied until his own abdomen contracted and his cock twitched, filling you with his hot white seed in stuttered strokes. He grunts almost painfully and he came, holding on to you for dear life and your were sure there would be imprints of his fingers around your shoulders the next day. You couldn’t really care less.
Both spent and sweaty, you fall into the bed, Yoongi on his side and you on your belly. Your cat ears were still on but barely hanging on your head. After catching his breath, he notices how they were pulling the hairs at the top of your head and, with immense care, slowly takes them out without pulling at one single strand.
“Good thing I dressed up for Halloween, don’t you think?” you ask drowsily with a lazy smile, your face barely visible from in between the pillows.
“Maybe you should dress up in leather more often. Not just for Halloween” he suggests, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Better than okay. I’m great” you assure, eyes falling closed.
“Don’t fall asleep just yet, pumpkin. We still need to shower” he warns, and you feel him getting up from bed.
“We?” you repeat, eyes still shut.
“Yeah, I think I’m in need of another rinse” he states just before you hear the water starting to run in the bathroom. “C’mon baby, let me help you up.”
Yoongi helps you up the bed as well as cleaning your skin, washing your hair and even putting on your clothes. He snuggles with you until you fall asleep, already thinking of what other leather products you could buy that he would appreciate in the future.
#halloween special#bts x chubby reader#chubby reader#plus size reader#bts#bts fic#bts fanfiction#BTS suga#bts yoongi#min yoongi#suga#suga x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#kpop smut#kpop plus size#kpop chubby reader#13 stories for halloween#Smut#bts smut
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wish i could pretend i didn't need you (1/?)
Summary: Beca Mitchell is born into a life of organized crime, directionless and despondent. Then she meets Chloe Beale.
Word count: 3,347
I know everybody’s focused on Bechloe week stuff and I know there are other things going on, especially with my own fics. But somehow this fic burst out of me in a stroke of inspiration. So to people to whom I still owe prompts/gifts: I’m sorry. I don’t anticipate this fic going beyond 15 chapters, hell we’ll see what happens around the 10 chapter mark based on what I plotted.
Read below or on AO3.
It is a Friday night.
Beca finds herself at her favorite bar. It is an odd hybrid between a karaoke hangout for people who are too drunk to realize how bad they’re doing and a lowkey, dimly-lit hang-out spot where she can be herself without her usual cares and concerns.
“You can go,” Beca says pointedly to her driver. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Seriously,” she promises. “I just want to be alone. I’ll call you if I…” she sighs. “Why am I explaining this to you? Please, just go,” she begs. She hates feeling like a child who needs a constant babysitter. She hates feeling watched and followed, even if it is for her own safety like everybody claims.
It’s tiring, that’s what it is.
Without waiting to see whether the car leaves, Beca turns to quickly make her way inside her safe haven. The bar downtown. A bar with music and drinks and a semblance of normalcy in a city that refuses to define the term ‘normal’ without a million asterisks.
A normal Friday night in Los Angeles.
She likes the music that wraps around her the moment she enters the bar. Barely decipherable because of how loud the bar is. It is the perfect way to both lose herself and be lost in the crowd and the atmosphere of a typical Friday night.
Beca knows exactly what she’s looking for. It’s been a while since she’s had one night of mindless, anonymous sex. She doesn’t think herself too picky, just selective about the kind of woman she can find. Nobody to get attached to, at least not for more than a couple trysts. Nobody too curious.
In her line of work, dating is overrated and entirely unnecessary.
Beca starts at the bar. A quick scan up and down the wooden surface, she can see only completely full drinks and people with dates of their own. The thought makes her scoff—makes her order a drink immediately, then proceed to down it quickly. With the burn in her throat and renewed energy, she quickly scans the crowded space, eyes trained to pick up on significant movements and significant people.
It is then, with a second drink in hand, that Beca spots her. Her eyes catch on this stranger’s hair—the pretty red hair, glinting under shoddy lighting—before her eyes are drawn to the stranger’s easy smile. She appears to be alone as well, or at least, she does for another minute longer before she is accompanied by two other young women. Beca tilts her head, wondering if she has a chance at all, with this stranger. A pretty, kind-looking stranger. With friends, Beca presumes.
“Can I buy you another drink?” Beca asks, slipping into the empty barstool next to the stranger.
Clear blue eyes turn to her, surprised. “I didn’t even hear you behind me.”
“I’d be surprised if you heard anything with how loud this music is blasting.”
A flash of white teeth. She leans closer to Beca, as if she is about to share a secret. “I don’t mind it. I like things loud,” she whispers loudly, adding an exaggerated wink to punctuate her statement.
Beca gapes at her new companion. “I mean. That’s…” She clears her throat, momentary lapse dissipating quickly when the beautiful redhead shifts closer. “So...drink?” she asks, quickly changing the subject. She finds this woman’s personality endearing to say the least, if not a little out there, but Beca thinks she can manage.
“Okay,” the woman agrees. “But you have to join me. Two margaritas, then?”
That’s manageable. Beca orders the two drinks, keeping her eye on the woman out of the corner of her eye. She’s stunned by how easily this woman smiles, but she somehow manages to do it without coming off as completely insane. Maybe a little, Beca muses, but she’s not there to judge.
“What’s your name?” Beca asks, keeping her tone light and just the right amount of disinterested. She slides a drink to the woman, smiling when fingers brush against her own in a clear display of interest.
The stranger giggles, a sound so light and airy that it almost breaks Beca’s resolve. She doesn’t crack. She tries not to, at least.
“Chloe,” she replies, finally. She brushes her hand up the front of Beca’s jacket, brushing against the leather. “I like your jacket.”
The boldness makes Beca swallow her drink a bit too early. “That’s all?” she rasps.
Chloe bites her lip, pretending to think about it. “I mean. Maybe I had more to say. But I noticed you looking at me about an hour ago. You finally made your way over here.” At Beca’s immediate blush and flustered stutter, Chloe pats her jacket again with a giggle before she draws away, sipping innocently at her drink. “What’s your name?”
“Beca.”
“Beca,” Chloe repeats. “I like that.”
To Beca’s immense relief, Chloe doesn’t ask for a last name, nor does she offer a last name of her own. Beca eases into the conversation, relaxing against the bar as Chloe begins to rope her into her orbit. Beca doesn’t even realize it.
* * * * *
“I’m not from around here,” Chloe admits.
“Here as in...Los Angeles or here as in California?”
“Um…” Chloe shifts closer to Beca, comfortable in their little corner of the bar, away from noise and nosy eyes. “Both, I guess? I moved here for a job after finishing school on the other side of the country.”
Beca pretends to gag. “School. Bleh. What’d you study?”
“I’m a vet,” Chloe says with twitch of her lips. “What do you do? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve bought all my drinks tonight. I’m not complaining.”
Beca laughs, but she finds that she has no real excuses. “I…” Beca trails off, unsure what she can say exactly. “I’m between jobs,” she says evasively. “But I used to work for my dad. After I finished with the whole school thing.” Not quite a lie. She currently isn’t on any jobs for her father, though she’s sure she’ll have something come up over the next couple of weeks. Also not a lie—she did finish a degree at her father’s behest.
“You strike me as a musician,” Chloe says suddenly. She reaches for Beca’s hand, playing with her fingers. “Talented fingers.”
Beca holds back her laugh. Chloe is forward, which is refreshing. That was a move if she had ever seen one. She relaxes for a second, then Beca watches Chloe for a long moment, letting the slow heat spread through her body at the point which their hands are touching.
“What?” Chloe asks, shifting closer still. “Am I wrong?”
“A little,” Beca admits. “But I…” She shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says quickly. “Just a little off.” She glances at their hands, admiring the slender lines of Chloe’s fingers and the softness of her hand. “But...you might not be wrong about other things.” Beca waits for a beat before leaning in, wondering if Chloe will meet her halfway.
Chloe does. Their first kiss is explosive—Beca immediately surges closer, pulling herself further into Chloe’s orbit. Chloe’s lips are impossibly soft, undeniably pliant, and gentle.
* * * * *
It is a Friday night. Nothing out of the ordinary thus far for Beca—her first night off in months.
Her first night off in months and she is being pressed against the wall outside an apartment complex, Chloe’s tongue in her mouth doing absolutely sinful things. And they have, as far as Beca is concerned, a good few hours. But never all night—Beca makes it a point not to stay; she makes it a point not to linger. It is, however, perhaps, maybe, a little difficult to think of anything else at the moment, as the night progresses.
And it has progressed.
Beca barely manages to take stock of her surroundings, simply allowing Chloe to navigate them into her apartment with ease. She would have never thought Chloe would freely offer up her apartment so quickly, but as they had continued kissing at the bar, Beca found that both their resolves cracked rather quickly. In short order, Chloe divests Beca of her clothes and shoves her onto her bed with a glint.
That had been a mere few minutes ago, both of them too desperate and too aroused to allow for much more else.
“Fuck,” Beca moans. “Fuck, you’re so good at that.” She plants a hand against the headboard, wincing at the strain in her arm. With her free hand, she grabs Chloe’s hair, grinding her hips down, eyes nearly crossing at the rough sensation of Chloe’s tongue against her clit. She gasps with each imprecise stroke between her legs. She wants nothing more than to feel Chloe inside her entirely—fingers, tongue, she’s not picky—but she finds it difficult to articulate more than low, drawn-out moans.
Here, she barely knows this woman’s last name—barely knows her own last name, but she finds that she does not care. Not when Chloe’s hands lock onto her thighs with an iron grip and she begins to sharply flick her tongue over Beca’s sensitive clit. Over and over—Beca cries out, gripping the headboard to the point of injuring her hand, but she does not care. She lets out a groan—somewhere between a groan and gasp—and a string of curses before she is trembling and all but collapsing to the side. Her orgasm ripples through her, like the most pleasurable of waves taking up the spaces in her body. She shudders, tensing her thighs together as Chloe maneuvers them so they are both lying face to face on the bed. Beca tilts her head to receive Chloe’s kiss, which Chloe presses eagerly against her lips. Chloe is all full lips, tongue, and passion, something which only sends heat coiling through Beca’s body again.
As if reading her mind, Chloe pulls back, tongue swiping against her lower lip as she does so. Her hand trails down Beca’s stomach, gently pushing between her legs. “Again,” she rasps, nuzzling her nose against Beca’s. “I want to see you come.” Another kiss, this time with a tug to Beca’s lip between even, blunt teeth. “Didn’t really get to—” another kiss “—see it before.”
And, yeah. Okay. Beca can do that. She nods, pulling Chloe in for another kiss. At around this point, she’d be figuring out an escape from this stranger’s bed and room. But she finds that she wants to stay; she wants to figure out how to make Chloe scream her name or at least make sure that Chloe doesn’t forget their night together.
It feels imperative that she does so.
She is momentarily stricken in the best of ways by Chloe’s hand navigating fully between her legs. She tilts her hips up eagerly, already wet and wanting for Chloe’s fingers. That one orgasm had hardly been enough and whether she chooses to blame it on the alcohol or the fact that she hasn’t been laid in at least four months, she knows that she needs Chloe now. She needs Chloe’s deft, talented fingers inside her.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” Chloe murmurs, voice thick with her own arousal. “Just say something—tell me—”
Beca shakes her head. “No, don’t stop. More.”
Chloe nods, pleased by Beca’s receptiveness and begins slowly dragging her fingers around Beca’s slick cunt, gently coaxing her into an even more heightened state of arousal. Beca wraps an arm around Chloe’s shoulder, pulling her closer still. She traces the top of Chloe’s spine, marvelling at each bump and ridge before she tires and traces the smooth muscles across her back, pleased by the shiver that she feels ripple through Chloe’s body.
Chloe shifts so she hovers over her, covering her body with her own. Beca clutches at Chloe’s back, sighing pleasurably. “Mm—fuck,” Beca murmurs, back arching when Chloe’s fingers sink inside her without preamble. She groans at how full she feels—had it really been that long?—and immediately craves more of that sensation. “Go,” she urges. “More, please, Chloe.”
“You like that,” Chloe whispers, breath hot against Beca’s ear. “You’re so tight, Bec—” the nickname falls so easily from her lips. It sends an unexpected flash through Beca, renewed arousal and all. “I’m going to make you remember my name.”
Beca isn’t entirely sure she would have ever forgotten, regardless of the circumstances.
* * * * *
Beca learns, fairly quickly, what it is that makes Chloe tick. She learns exactly where to kiss and nip to make Chloe sigh. She learns where to suck to make Chloe whimper and moan. She learns exactly how to curl her fingers inside Chloe to make her scream her name with unabashed pleasure.
She learns all about the physicality of this woman, but she cannot, for the life of her, figure out why she seems to crave more. In her sleep-deprived, alcohol-induced haze, she fumbles through the darkness of her own consciousness even as she continues to kiss Chloe’s neck and her chest.
She wants so much more.
“Beca,” Chloe rasps, pulling her back to the present. “Oh, Beca, that feels amazing.” Hands press on the top of her head, urging her downwards towards where Chloe needs her most—the place where she is wettest and where she aches for Beca.
It’s nice, Beca thinks, with a small moan of her own, to be so wanted.
* * * * *
Beca doesn’t remember falling asleep. She remembers Chloe’s lips against her own, the press of Chloe’s lips against her inner thigh. She remembers what it had felt like to press her fingers inside Chloe for the first time—the strain in her arm as she attempted to keep up with Chloe’s enthusiasm for her fingers.
She has never done this before. Sleeping over at a stranger’s apartment or house. Staying the night.
It’s new.
It’s also new, feeling a warm arm draped around her middle possessively. The curves pressing up and down her back. The mild discomfort of skin against skin beneath the chill of the air conditioning because their blanket was kicked halfway down the bed.
All of it feels so new and it makes Beca want to run and yet, she stays. She stays, gets even more comfortable in Chloe’s bed, and decides to sleep for another couple of hours.
It’s nice, feeling like she has nowhere to be.
Sleepily, from behind Beca, Chloe nuzzles into her neck with a degree of comfort that would alarm Beca normally. She nuzzles into Beca with sleepy care, clearly somewhere between being awake and asleep like Beca is herself.
The soft press of her nose and lips against Beca’s skin is comfortable. Like she has been there all her life.
* * * * *
It is a Saturday morning.
When Beca wakes again, it is due to the ray of sunlight shining almost directly across her eyes. She groans, lifting her arm to cover her eyes.
“Morning,” Chloe’s voice says, clear as day from the kitchen area. Beca blinks, lifting her head slightly. Her heart pounds as she takes in the reality of the situation: she had slept over—she had stayed overnight. She had broken her one rule about one-night-stands. “You’re up,” Chloe continues cheerily, clearly unaware of Beca’s inner turmoil.
“Um...yeah. What time is it?” Beca groans. “Good morning,” she adds hastily, as to not be completely rude.
“Just after nine. You were sleeping like a log, so I got some coffee and breakfast.” Chloe moves towards the bed from the kitchen, making Beca fully aware of the spacious studio space and open layout of Chloe’s apartment. “Hi,” Chloe murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed. She helps Beca sit up, handing her a bagel. “Hope you like cream cheese.”
“I...I do,” Beca whispers. She sits up, surprised by how comfortable she feels baring herself to Chloe after their night together. Chloe smiles pleasantly at her, clearly delighted that Beca is receptive to breakfast. “Thank you,” she adds, sincerity in her tone. She doesn’t say it aloud, but it has been a while since she’s enjoyed any form of breakfast in bed, let alone a substantial breakfast of any kind that wasn’t an extra large iced coffee for the road.
“Do you have somewhere to be?” Chloe asks. “I can drive you.”
“You have a car?” Beca asks, surprised. At Chloe’s raised eyebrow, she laughs awkwardly, attempting to brush it off. “No, I just meant—I don’t know. Most people our age don’t really have...a car,” she finishes lamely.
“Oh? How do you know I’m not like twenty years older than you?”
Beca tugs at the sheets nervously. “I guess,” Beca stammers, pink tainting her cheeks. “I guess...I guessed,” she murmurs slowly.
Chloe laughs, settling even further on the bed, stretching out. “I’m kidding, I’m twenty-seven. I just turned twenty-seven.”
“Oh, okay. I’m twenty-five.”
“Nice to meet you, Beca, twenty-five,” Chloe announces. She sends a mock-salute towards Beca, playful smile still playing on her lips.
Beca lets some tension ease from her body. She isn’t sure where the ease comes from, but she feels incredibly comfortable talking to Chloe. Incredibly open, despite how vulnerable she feels being significantly underdressed while Chloe lounges in her leggings and button-up shirt across from her. Still, she feels the same undeniable attraction to this woman—the same attraction from the night before. It lingers, hot in her chest, drifting into her belly.
She doesn’t do this. Not usually. Not ever.
“Mitchell,” Beca says quietly while Chloe fiddles with her phone. Her voice causes Chloe to look up. “My name is Beca Mitchell.”
Chloe’s smile is incredibly radiant, enough to light up the whole room. More than the sun itself, creeping its way past the half-open curtains. Behind her head, as if the universe is further highlighting Chloe’s mere presence in Beca’s life—a miracle of sorts, if anything—there is a halo of sunlight, lighting up red strands like the tiny sparks and flames Beca feels rippling through her body. Chloe clears her throat. “We have all morning, Beca Mitchell. If you’re up for it, that is.”
“All morning?” Beca questions. She is sure wonder is written all over her face.
“I...want to get to know you. If that’s okay.”
Oh. Beca swallows. Chloe’s eyes are even more blue than Beca remembers. She is unable to look away, even for a moment, but she isn’t sure that she would even want to, not when she is so incredibly captivated by Chloe. “That’s okay…” Beca finishes by nibbling on her bagel, unsure what else Chloe wants her to say or do. She finds that she is not afraid of these completely unchartered waters, so long as she gets to dive in, head-first, with Chloe.
Chloe rises from the bed so she can sit closer to where Beca is reclining. Slowly, she leans in, eyes watching carefully for anything that Beca might be resistant to—any indication that Beca doesn’t want this.
Beca has never had a morning after—not one that mattered, at least. She is so riveted by the slow way Chloe leans in to kiss her; she is so enthralled by the way Chloe occupies all the spaces that she didn’t know she had—all the capacities she didn’t know existed within her in that moment.
Like a dam breaking, an unexpected surge passes over Beca. She reaches up quickly, pulling Chloe in to close the rest of the distance between them.
“Beale,” Chloe whispers against her lips. Her free hand glides up Beca’s body before she pries her bagel from her hand and sets it aside.
“What?” Beca asks, distracted by Chloe’s wandering hand.
“My name is Chloe Beale.”
Nice to meet you, Beca thinks. It is such a pleasant, reassuring thought that it fills her with something more than her usual existential dread.
It is warm.
Gentle.
She thinks of nothing else for the rest of the morning, simply intent on getting to know Chloe Beale beyond just the feeling of her skin beneath her fingertips.
fin ch. 1
#bechloe#pitch perfect#bechloe fanfiction#beca mitchell#chloe beale#mafia au#mine#my fanfic#bechloe fic
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Shadowlands: Chapter 2 - Subtraction
How did I end up here? Has my life truly been as fragmented as I were? Nothing makes any sense anymore. Many voices have spoken. Some familiar while other's, not so much. Yet, all the only physical presence that greets me is the pain in my chest. It's almost as if they are dissecting me for a glorious harvest of organs. Doubtful that they are, it feels as though it is only to remind me of my place in these wailing halls. The only entertainment to pass the time is the maddening arguments amongst my kin along with the various jailbreaks all across the endless floors of this place. I've learned a great deal about this energy flow though. Whispers of various energies of death. Anima. Phantasma. Stygia. I know not what they fully entail, but... it matters not. I am a great many things. Weak. Emaciated. Beaten.
But I'm not broken...
A wail just down the dismal hall of deathly metal echoed directly into the chamber that the unconscious trio were bound by chains. Both beasts lay upon the cold, stained floor while their heart dangled by twin links that held his arms up. His frame no more than a fraction of it's once, muscular glory. Ink-smeared pale skin that were barely covered by tattered, black cloth. Flowing white hair hung almost to the ground as he bowed in an attempt to rest his soul, preparing for the next torture that would be laid before him. The vile racket increased in volume as the sound of plated footsteps echoed across the floor. The very noise made the trio stir in their own ways. Randdu's ears wiggled while Sphula's eyelids suddenly opened and dilated with it's endless, distant stare. Not long after, the armor of Mawsworn rolled across the solid steel as they would be blessed the sound of true death. Though music to the ears of the familiars, the correct melody for Daev himself was that of the footsteps that followed with the clanking of chain, gravity now taking his course as he found himself following completely onto the floor. " Is this... no.... this isn't real... " Daev muttered in delirious disbelief, writhing like a worm before the beat of the drum followed with the shattering of the chains that barred the beasts.
" Who... issssss... thissssss?.... " Sphula hissed tiredly as he tilted his head to behold a hooded knight much like that of the Ebon Blade. The serpent watched as the knight knelt before Daev and began reaching for him. To which, the serpentine familiar protested. " Do not... harm a hair.... on hissssss head.... " Randdu followed with a weak flap of his wings before he hoarsely screeched. Both animals were set off by the visitation of a stranger who appeared to be potentially a foe.
" Stay your... claws and teeth. I am only here to do what is necessary. " The voice coming from the hood confirmed the condition of undeath that laid within the epicenter of this being. Faint, white hairs tickled the edges of the hood which only revealed a familiar nose and chin structure. As he reached to place a gloved hand upon the epicenter of Daev's chest, he muttered something unexpected. "... I'm here, to save my son before it is too late. " The hand now emanated with strings of white tethers that flowed freely into the much younger Daevara, which in return made this new ally's jaw clench. " Take my anima... and rise again, Alphus! "
Daev felt the energies of the being that claimed to be his father pouring into his soul. A subtle gasp following which brought his glassy eyes to glow that white purity. Images flashed before his eyes of the man's own memories of youthful struggles, benevolent love, and even the talks of the birth of a son named Alphus Durand Daevara. It all happened so fast but brought a vision of clarity that only he could understand. It was an overwhelming sensation that caused the youth to involuntarily clutch to his father before realizing that he could see the hooded figure. " ... Father? "
The man smiled, despite being a harbinger of undeath now, he still possessed a joyous sense in any situation. Without hesitation, the man removed his hood, revealing the cyan glow of his eyes along with a messy ponytail of familiar white hair that represented the trademark that was long passed down through the Daevara family. " I just want you to know... I'm proud of you for finally defeated the curse our family couldn't overcome... but right now... you must get out of here... " With that being said, Sephirrion Daevara placed a spectral key into the palm of his hand and nodded to him, picking him up off the ground so that he could stand. " Do you have the strength now? "
Daev fumbled at first as the beasts around him slowly began to rise. Randdu standing on all fours while the serpent began to levitate, anima energy now being distributed to balance the flow within the centerpiece himself. " Is this... another trick... another... torture... has the Jailer finally decided to break me?... " Daev looked at his hands in disbelief, smudged with residues of a variety before he clenched them into fists. It was the offering of the sword that lead him ask another question. " Father... I have to ask... if it is really you... why did you... "
A thunderous notion in the distance sounded that made animal and person tense up. " There will be time to ask later, Alphus... get going. You have friends and family waiting for you... I... will distract them while you escape. That key will get you to the exit. " Daev finally took the sword from his hand, clenching the short blade and opening his mouth before another rumble settled in, this time drawing much closer. " GO! "
" You heard daddy-o, let's get the hell outta' here! Reeeeeee! " Randdu trotted across the floor, tackling Daev to move as the trio began to take off down the hall. Despite the nature of the situation, the elf found himself slower than the beasts not only because of his structure, but because he was looking back towards the man that claimed to be his father who drew his swords and charged the other direction. " Move yourself, Daev! Do you want to die here? Because I sure as hell don't! Reeeee! "
" But... what about him... he risked his neck to save us? " Daev responded back to the unfiltered bat with worry. The serpent slithering his way beside their key to the way out of here. " Randdu issss right. Asss much assss I hate to admit it. We have obligationsss to fulfill and there will come another opportuni- Look out! " The serpent coiled around Daev, forcing him backwards as Randdu screeched loudly when he dodged a swinging guillotine in passing. The metal of the pendulum force whisking by them with that faint, metallic wail that indicated death. " Allow meeee... " Sphula declared as he tightly wrapped himself around Daev and pulled him through a shadowy pocket, instantly seeping out of the floor beside Randdu before the trio was once again reunited.
" That was a close one, boss! " Randdu chittered, flapping his wings as he felt his strength returning more so now. " You gotta' work out more, Daaaaaaev... you'll never win any races with this chicken legs... " Daev gave the bat a look before Randdu felt himself being pushed back by their kinetic link. " Shut it, bat... you try being chained up for an eternity... oh wait, you were! "
The howl of abyssal creatures was heard coming up directly in front of them as an armored bowman with three, smoky hounds come clattering down the halls in their wraith-like states. The lack of physical body made them haunting to look at. Unless, of course, you were a certain bat that saw the raw energies that coursed within them. " Oh yeah, baby! Buffet here I come! " Randdu suddenly flapped frantically and made a mad swoop towards one of the stalkers while the other two were commanded to charge the elf and his serpent companion. Magics suddenly began to hum from within the Sphula's jaws as he wound himself around Daev to protect him. His tail slipped through the floor and came out to swipe at both hands, knocking them backwards before the serpent shot a bolt of lightning at them. All three of the beasts howled out as they found themselves pushed back. One of them even squealing in agony as Randdu began to siphon the energies from it, causing his mass to grow and the energy within him to turn darker. " Yeah! Yeah! Ow! "
The knockback of a bolt was heard just before Randdu found an arrow lodged into his side, making the bat-like creature shriek into an enrage frenzy before the unlucky mawsworn found himself on the other end of his jaws. Armor pieces began chipping and flying everywhere from the sheer madness that was the beast that tore into it. " ... Nothing... escapes... the Maw! " The declaration had been heard a great many times through this halls and most of the time, they were the unbearable fact. " Reeeeeeee! You're wrong! We will find a way to get out of here! " Randdu screeched his own opinion out before he immediately returned to his companions, allowing his energies to spill out and ease there way into them to split the balance.
" Randdu... I never realized you were such an energy conductor. And Sphula... you're... a magic conjurer? I've never used lightning magic before... " Daev seemed utterely surprised by the abilities of his animalistic fragments that were a part of him, bringing about a faint smile as he found his resolved temporarily renewed. " Let's get out of here and find our allies! " Daev took off as quick as his *chicken legs* would allow with bat and snake in tow. Once they come across a flight of ascending stairs, that's when the real challenge awaited them.
Coming through the doorway, the floor had finally revealed to them an massive, open room with a door on the other side that matched the key perfectly to the point that the spectral energies began to glow in Daev's hand. But, there was just one thing standing between them and their exit out of here. Within it's epicenter was a floating oculus forged from a twisted, metal shell with an energy lens within it's core. " None may escape the Jailer's Third Eye! " The voice bellowed out much like the tone of the Jailer's voice did. Energies now channeled within him as he suddenly fired off a beam of phantasmal energies. This, in turn, made the trio split apart in order to avoid the blast.
" Randdu, don't let that thing get too close to us! Flank him! " Daev shouted out in command as the bat screeched in his attack, tackling the incoming, floating eyeball. Wings were a flutter and the sharp edges of his teeth were gnawing at the metal structure. " My teeff isn't working! " Sphula's tail suddenly came out of the ground below the Third Eye as he attempted a tail swipe to knock this thing backwards. Meanwhile, Daev struck from the other side of him with a sword by trying to stab into it's core. But, the trio found themselves battered, pelted, and blasted by a series of physical and magical attacks with each and every attempt they made to attack.
While they were actually putting up a decent fight the way they were, their unsynchronized assault was met with little success and they all found themselves falling to the ground. Daev, clutched his sword, using it as a cane to support his weakening state. " I... don't know... if we're going to make it through this... " Both animal familiars were shakily trying to get back up but having a hard time as it were. " Nooooo.... we were... so close... " Randdu tried to push through and noticed that the Third Eye was charging another focused blast. " Hey! Daev! Move! Get out of there! "
Daev actually stammered, attempting to pull himself away despite his lack of swiftness but ultimately, there was no hope left in his face as he froze up, watching as the beam of bright death was fired off towards him. His first reflex was to bring his arms up over his face until he felt a gust of wind directly in front of him before the blast made an impact with another object. " REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! " The ear-piercing shriek was released from Randdu who had taken the hit for Daev. " Why... didn't you... move... you.... dumbass... uhhh... " Randdu's physical form faded away and the energies that were left over instantly traveled into Daev's left arm, funneled back to the source.
" Randdu! " Daev shouted as he felt himself beginning to panic. For the first time, the man that was once Duraxxor found himself as helpless as ever. Fists clenching as the Third Eye began to charge another attack. " I don't... want to be weak.. I need... more... Power! " He took off towards Sphula, reaching to grab for the serpent so that he could wrap him around his body. " I'm not letting you take the fall for me, Sphula! We'll get through this! "
The energies of the beam began to grow, nearly complete in preparation for another attack much like before. " ... You fool... if you die... I die too... I.. haven't... given up... she issss... closssse... " Sphula explained the little fact that the Sorceress herself was drawing closer, meaning that soon, there would be other's there to rescue them much like his father. " Yeah... you're right... Malakortana won't let us die... right? She's always there... when you least expect it... " Daev spoke these words as if they were the only thing they could truly do in the moment, hearing the energies hum behind them just as his legs began to give out. " I need.. more power! Malakortana! I need your guidance right now! I don't know what to do! I need your STRENGTH! "
The fully charged beam was fired off in a straight shot for them as it made contact, exploding with anima magics in the form of a plume. Smoke lingered in the air after the dust began to clear and the Third Eye peered towards the the area they had stood. At first glance, it appeared they completely bit the dust from his final attack. However, something most unexpecting occured as this anima sentry felt the heartbeat pulse of anima from within. With that being said, the dust cleared and a tall figure stood there, silently. A crimson scaled tail with spines wriggled left and right, jutting just beyond a black outfit that was comprised of a pair of pants and a closed trenchcoat that was embroidered with a deep red design. A hood, delicately hid the features above the nose line of this being. Skin-tone was a paleness with a hint of sanguine glow splashed into it as a pair of onyx lips curled significantly, protruding now with elongated, venomous fangs. From behind said lips, a voice called out.
" It'ss time, we ssettled the sscore, little occuluss. Now, you shall know the power of the bond between usss and The Lady of Vicioussssnessss... “ [ Tags: @sanguinesorceress and @safrona-shadowsun. Bottom art credit goes to @handhour-galleries ]
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Skyward
Ao3
Foreword
Ochako’s expression was listless as she stared out of the small round window. Her cheek pressed against the cold glass; the skin had long since gone fuzzy and numb, but she had not the energy to change her position. She just stared miserably through her only connection to the outside world. That thick glass pane separated her from the indigo sky, the glittering stars, and the wispy gray clouds— a beautiful night, by all reckoning. She’d once imagined what it would be like, viewing the endless blue expanse from within a dirigible. Of course, those fantasies never involved her being a prisoner.
Ochako’s eyes slowly closed, then opened in a lethargic blink. She continued to gaze out the small window, watching the clouds slowly drift by as the dirigible sailed onward like a steamship on the sea. Maybe if she thought hard enough, she could pretend that she was a princess on a journey to a strange foreign land. She closed her eyes, focusing her breaths, and tried to envision a much better scenario than her current one. Try as she might, however, the fear and unease gnawed at her insides, like a caged beast trying its best to escape and unleash full-blown terror within her.
She opened her eyes again, and then gasped, jerking away from the window. A round, speedy air vessel had burst through one of the clouds, scattering the wisps like pieces of cotton. It surged past the window, speeding alongside the large passenger dirigible, and disappeared around its back end. She gasped, sitting up as hope fluttered in her chest. Had someone learned of her kidnapping and come to rescue her?
Not a few minutes later did her recent captor burst in, scowling and shooting a pistol down the hallway. The sharp pop-pop-pops blended with frightened screams, angry shouts, and more gunfire. The startling sight made Ochako jump out of her chair and huddle against the bed, hands curled up in front of her chest as if they could shield her.
“Damn sky pirates.” Tomura slammed the door shut and jammed a chair underneath the knob.
Ochako’s heart plummeted. Pirates? So she was not going to be rescued after all.
Tomura’s black suit and dark glasses seemed to soak up all the light in the room, making him loom ominously at the front of the room as he turned to her. She flinched, knowing his eyes were dark and callous beyond the barrier of his tinted shades.
“Ochako, stay out of the way and you won’t get hurt,” he ordered as he stalked across the room to hunch down in a chair and begin tapping away at a Morse code communicator. Ochako watched him nervously, unease coiling in her belly as he feverishly called for reinforcements.
She edged along the bed, racking her brain for some way to take advantage of the chaos and slip free. The door was jammed shut, however, and pirates lurked beyond. What avenue of escape could she even find? As she continued to shuffle away from him, her toe hit something hollow and glass-sounding. Ochako glanced down to see an empty wine bottle lying on the floor; Tomura and his associate had drunk it with dinner earlier that evening. She peered cautiously at Tomura, who was occupied with the code generator. Slowly, she stooped down to pick up the bottle. Quietly, she crept up behind him and hefted it above her head. Then, she squeezed her eyes shut and slammed it down as hard as she could.
Tomura released a startled gurgling sound as the glass exploded against the crown of his head. The green shards fell to the carpet with small tinkling sounds, scattering droplets of wine across its beige surface. Tomura slumped against the table, knocking the communicator onto the floor as his arm jerked. Ochako dropped the broken edge of the bottle and looked around wildly, frantically searching for a means of escape.
Just then, the door to the room lurched violently. The chair lodged underneath the doorknob quivered and groaned, straining against the assault of pounding fists.
“Open up!” called a male voice. “I know you’re in there! Just give us the crystal and we won’t hurt you!”
Ochako clutched the pendant around her neck, the precious pink stone with her family crest engraved in gold on its concave surface.
“Ah!” she exclaimed in fright, scrambling away from the door to her only reprieve— the window. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the latch for far too many seconds, making her terror spike in sharp bursts. Come on, come on! she screamed to herself. Finally, she managed to flip the latch and heft up the window. Cold air immediately rushed in, ruffling her brown hair and making Tomura’s papers flutter around the room. She heard a loud snap and whipped around to see the legs of the chair buckling and splintering. Before she could consider how dangerous her attempted escape would be, she squeezed through the window legs-first, finding a foothold on the very slim ledge lining the side of the metal craft.
Just as she had slipped all the way out, the chair crumpled and the door slammed open. A boy her age with pine-green hair stormed in, his emerald eyes glinting with greed and delight. Behind him she could see several more masculine bodies crowding the hall.
“Ehehe, looks like she got you good, Tomura!” the boy cackled as he scampered up to the unconscious gray-haired man, nudging his limp form with a toe before looking to the open window. Ochako was frantically edging her way along the outside of the dirigible.
“Oi, Miss, what are you doing out there? That’s dangerous, you know!” the pirate trilled, running up to the window and leaning as far out as he could to grope at her. Ochako screamed as his fingers snatched at her flapping white dress.
“Eicchan! Get over here; I can’t reach her!” the green-haired young man snapped impatiently. A large redheaded form crammed its way between the pirate and the edge of the window. Ochako recoiled despite his cheesy grin, shuffling along the side of the airship with renewed vigor.
“Hey, get back here!” the redhead cried, stretching as far as he could to paw at her dress. Ochako screamed again as he grabbed a fistful of it, yanking it and drawing it tight around her thighs. She clutched the side of the ship as he tugged and pulled, actually having the strength to scoot her closer.
“No! Let me go!” she cried, slapping at his hand. Her nails caught on the skin, scoring three parallel red lines across his knuckles. The man recoiled with a shout, allowing Ochako to scurry to the next window. Tears beaded on her lashes while she pulled frantically at it, but the window had jammed halfway open. “Please, please!” She was beginning to realize just how terrifying it was being trapped on the outside of the airship. The sky was a chasm below her, whipping with winds that yanked at her dress with the clear desire to wrench her off and send her plummeting into the depths.
Just as she’d managed to yank down the window, the door to the room inside the airship barged open, startling the couple holding each other. A young man with blond hair and a black lightning strike-shaped streak in his bangs ran in, grinning wildly as he brandished his pistol.
“Gotcha!” he declared, rushing up to the window to swipe at her. Ochako reflexively jerked back; in doing so, her flats slipped against the sleek metal siding. She screamed as her feet gave out and she fell, her hands uselessly slapping against the dirigible until they met the open air. She could hear the three pirates yelling in dismay, specifically at the loss of her crystal necklace.
Earthbound she was, falling through the air with the wind rushing through her ears; faster and faster she plummeted until all the breath was stolen from her lungs and she slipped into unconsciousness…
Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.
#kacchako#bakuraka#bakugo x uraraka#uraraka x bakugo#katwsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#ochako uraraka#uraraka ochako#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha#bnha
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