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duskholland · 3 years ago

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Stuck With(out) You - Mob!Tom Smut

tom was having a really nice day until the metropolitan police decided to crash his date. or, when the law finally catches up to london’s most notorious mobster, tom learns that nothing is fair in love and war.

word count ↠ 15k. warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, alcohol, a car chase, extensive depictions of prison, violence (very minor injury detail), tattooing, pregnancy, bad language, smut! there are extended nsfw warnings below the cut but this is 18+ so minors please do not interact. a/n ↠ this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken 100% seriously! similarly to every other fic I’ve written about mob!tom, I don’t condone any of the actions shown in this story and all depictions of the mob and prison are entirely fictional. please do not date members of the mafia even if they are tom holland !!!!! + this fic was conceptualised before the release of cherry, and there are no purposeful links to the content of that film! the image from esquire that I’ve used is what led me down this path lmfao...esquire I love/hate you. ++ the biggest thank you ever to the wonderful @uglypastels for helping me with the initial brainstorm on this one, and for just generally being so supportive as I’ve struggled with writers block :’) I wouldn’t have ever been able to think this up let alone have the motivation to write this without you, so thank you and ily z <3 +++ there is a pov change halfway through this fic! it is intentional and you should be able to see it pretty easily but I’m just flagging it so you don’t think I lost it halfway through ahahha. enjoy!

nsfw warnings ↠ car sex, soft!dom!tom ft minor sir kink, oral and fingering (fem-receiving), multiple orgasms with brief refs to overstimulation, minor pregnancy kink, unprotected sex ft cumshot.

✧ *:･ﾟStuck With(out) You･ﾟ:*✧

There’s something wrong with you, and Tom can’t quite put his finger on it.

He wonders if it’s the wine. He’d spent hours debating the type of grape and ideal bitterness, scouring his memory in search of the perfect blend to share with you on your date. Eventually, he’d settled on the same deep red that he’d shared with you the first time he’d visited your flat, back when your love was just a small spark. Three years have passed since then, the nerves of early romance melted away and replaced by knowing and love, but the wine has recurred each time one of you has decided to treat the other, so what better blend to bring along to the picnic that Tom had so meticulously planned?

You haven’t touched your glass, and Tom—for all his confidence and charm—is deeply unsettled by this.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks for what feels like the tenth time, with brows furrowed so tightly his forehead aches. Tom reaches across the gingham blanket to join your fingers together, surprised to feel the clamminess of your skin as you gently squeeze his hand.

You hum. “I’m fine,” you say, voice devoid of any intense emotion. You sigh softly before bringing your eyes to meet Tom’s, and the man feels his heart constrict in his chest. You’re perfect, even with your hair messy from the light spring wind and the nerves that sit across your face. When you squeeze his hand again, and Tom glances down to see the engagement ring on your fourth finger, the ache in his heart sharpens.

He never knew love could be this fulfilling, nor so easy. Breathing is harder than it is to love you.

“Okay,” he replies. “Do you want to go home?”

You’ve been so quiet for the entire date, which is strange because usually, you match his energy effortlessly. Tom has been away for a few weeks doing business in Liverpool, and this date by the river is the first time you’ve been properly alone since he returned. He’d really expected you to enjoy the date—or, on a very basic level, at least look like you want to be here. With your quiet answers, avoidance, and nervous stares, he can’t confidently say that you do.

You shake your head. “No, no.” You fiddle with some of his rings before pulling your hand away from his. As you sit up a little straighter, you turn away from Tom to stare instead at the River Thames.

The river behind you is lit by the mid-afternoon sun and flooded with boats. It’s such a lovely day that Tom almost doesn’t notice the horrible brown tinge to the water. Lining the bank are small groups of people—families, friends, couples, tourists. They all stay clear of the two of you, undoubtedly wary of the security guards lingering near their boss. He rarely goes out so obviously like this, but you’ve always loved London, and he’d wanted to treat you. He’d wanted this to be a nice day.

“You know you can talk to me, don’t you?” he checks, voice catching slightly.

Your eyes snap up to his quickly. “Tom,” you say, voice wrapped endearingly around his name. Moving easily, you slip closer to him, carefully shifting around the food and the glasses until you’re close enough to reach out and touch his cheek. “I love you.”

Tom’s teeth graze his lower lip as he feels you pad your thumb across his jaw. “I know,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze. “I love you too.” He pauses for a few moments, savouring the closeness and the scent of your rosy spritz. He’d missed you so much that it almost hurts to have you so close again. “I know you have something on your mind, darling… Can you tell me what it is? I want to help you.”

“I…” A breathy exhalation follows. You bring your hand away from his cheek and rest it on the red silk material covering his shoulder. He’s in a loose designer shirt, the top two buttons unbuttoned and showing off the silver-linked chain he has hanging from his neck. “Tom, I just…”

“What?”

A small smile twitches at your lips. “Not here,” you seem to decide, voice a little stronger. “I have something I need to show you.”

“At home?”

“Yeah.”

Tom feels the weight rolls from his shoulders. It’s fine—everything is fine. You want to let him in, want to trust him with the cause of your anxieties. You still want him.

“Let’s go, then,” he decides, knowing he’s far too impatient to spend another hour laying by the river. Tom offers you a hand, and you take it. He tugs you away from the picnic setup with ease. He doesn’t need to bother with putting the things away—someone else will do it. Just one of the perks of his job.

“I missed you,” you say, smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand as you walk together towards the car. “It gets lonely without you in the house. Our bed is ridiculously huge without two people in it.”

Tom chuckles. “Good job I’m back now then, eh?”

The noise you release is stacked full of so much relief it makes Tom feel guilty for ever leaving to begin with. As he watches the bright, genuine smile flow across your face when you meet his eyes, he resolves to never leave for business again. Never. Not without you.

“A very good job,” you clarify. When you reach the car together, Tom holds the door open for you, ushering you in dramatically until you’re laughing and making fun of him for fussing. The only way he can stop you from your jovial whines is by leaning across the dashboard and pressing his lips to yours, so really he can’t complain. “This car is stupid, too,” you decide.

“Oh, that’s too fucking far,” Tom murmurs, glancing in the rear mirror as he peels away from the pavement. He’s glad the air between you has lightened. You seem happier now you’ve decided to spill your secrets. He rests his hand on the back of your headrest as he twists in his seat, eyes on the road as he reverses. “This car is a beauty.”

“This car is confusing,” you say, and Tom feels you staring at the flex of his bicep. “I tried driving it when you were gone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm. Couldn’t even get it up the drive.”

“Well, not to be rude, darling, but it’s hardly fair to blame my beautiful car for the fact that you’re an atrocious driver.”

If looks could kill, Tom knows he’d be six feet under.

“Fuck you, Tom,” you seethe, but your voice is charged with laughter. “I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all. Go back to Liverpool, see if I care.”

Tom cackles. “Maybe I will,” he teases, “just to see how long it takes you to start begging for me to come back again.”

You grumble something incoherent at that, then the words between you lull into a comfortable silence. After a few moments, you shift your palm to rest on his thigh, your hand gentle, warm. Your fingertips trace tiny love hearts over his slacks.

“Don’t,” you say eventually, voice quieter. “Stay this time.”

Tom risks a quick glance to you, growing breathless in the depths of your eyes. “Of course,” he says, voice thick. Tom returns his gaze to the road, his chest feeling tight. “I’m never leaving you again.”

“I mean, you can leave sometimes if you want—”

“No. Never.” Tom’s cheeks ache. “I’m never leaving your side.”

“Alright, Tom.” You sigh lightly, feigning exasperation. “I guess there are worse things than being stuck with you.”

“I’m charmed, darling. So relieved you like spending time with your fiancé.”

You shift in your seat at that, and Tom doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re flustered. You’re always shyer around him when he mentions the fact that your futures are intertwined, almost unbelieving that he’d slipped that ring onto your finger. It doesn’t matter how many times Tom tells you that he cherishes you—you never quite make peace with the fact that he wants to chase the moon with you. That doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling you, though. You hang the stars in his sky.

“I love spending time with you, Tom,” you mumble. “And I hope that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t change how you feel about me.”

His eyebrows raise. “Wait— what?” Tom scrunches the tip of his nose up as he squints in your direction. “Y/N, what—” He pauses, concentrating on keeping his voice level. “Angel, nothing you could ever do would change the way I feel about you. Nothing.”

You smile quietly. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add, almost sensing his unease. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Perfect.” Tom sits a little straighter in his seat. “Then there’s nothing to worry about—”

Sirens cut into his words. Tom startles, glancing in the mirror to see a police car with a whirring blue siren perched atop the grimy vehicle.

“Tom,” you say slowly, voice filling with dread. Your tone sends shivers down his spine. “Did you do something?”

Tom bites his lip.

He’s been trying his best to stay above the law recently, but… Liverpool had been messy. Very messy. He hadn’t intended on things going quite as terribly as they had, but one thing had led to another, and he’d had to fuck a few things up. The crime is nothing as intense as he’s been booked for in the past, but he’d had to write a few irregularities into his taxes and business agreements to smooth over the waters. It’s not as bad as murder, but it’s tax fraud nonetheless.

Tom had thought he’d been fine. Apparently not. He’s been a hot target for the Metropolitan Police for years, and they’ve consistently unearthed every tiny discrepancy he’s tried to get away with. He should’ve been more fucking careful.

“Shit,” Tom mutters. As he brings his eyes back to the road in front of him, he realises the police car behind you has been joined by another two, closing in from side streets and boxing him in amongst the traffic. He swallows thickly. “I messed up.”

You curse. “Idiot,” you mutter. You sit forwards in the seat and start to point to a gap in the traffic, right across the square. “Go there,” you say, voice pitching higher. “If you go fast, you’ll make it.”

He could book it. Tom’s run away before, in situations of peril where the alternative had been the law and escaping would give him the chance to alter some books and clear his name. It would be easy to slam his foot on the accelerator and dive down side streets, dodging the thick London traffic.

“Tom!” you say again, voice stressed with desperation. “Tom, go!”

The gap in the traffic is narrowly closing, the window of time Tom has to zoom through and get to safety shrinking before his very eyes. If he was alone, he’d do it without a second thought, but you’re here.

You’re here, and that means he can’t be selfish. Tom couldn’t ever risk you, not with such a treacherous manoeuvre like the one that you’re suggesting, nor with the repercussions you’d face if he books it. You’d either have to come on the run with him, or you’d end up captured and grilled by the Met, and neither of those options is the types of things he’d ever bring willingly upon you. You would never deserve that, and he refuses to make it a possibility.

Tom slows down the car.

“Tom,” you say, shock filling your voice. “What are you doing? They’ll get you.”

He nods. “I want you to listen to me, very carefully,” he says quickly.

“But—”

“—Darling, please. Please.” Tom stops the car abruptly. He calculates he has mere seconds before the officers ditch their vehicles and start storming across the traffic to haul him from his seat. “Don’t say anything to them. They want me, not you.” He turns off the engine and grabs your hands, holding them close as he stares into your eyes. “Call Harrison. Whatever shit they’re bringing me in for won’t hold up for long. They’ve— they’ve done this before. They never win. We have backup plans for this crap.”

“Tom,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears, “but they—”

“I know. I know, baby. I know.” He presses quick kisses to your knuckles, clinging so tightly to your fingers it’s like he’ll drift away without your touch. “I’m sorry. I am so bloody sorry. I love you so much.”

His throat hurts. The sight of the pain in your eyes makes him hate himself for ever bringing you into this faithless way of life. He doesn’t give a fuck that he’s destined for a cell—Tom cares that he’s hurt you.

“I love you too,” you say. You lean closer, undoing your seatbelt and popping his too as you reach up to cup Tom’s cheeks in your shaky hands. “It’ll be okay,” you stress. “I’ll get you out of there, baby.”

You lean in closer to kiss him, and Tom aches. The scent of your perfume is overwhelming, and he feels fragile beneath the hold you have on his face. The kindness in your eyes makes it hurt even more. It’d be easier if you’d let fury consume you and spend these last sacred moments denouncing him instead of loving him, but of course, you’re not like that.

The car door opens, and Tom is hauled from the car the moment his lips touch yours. Before he can process it, he’s being pushed up against his car, stiff arms keeping him pinned in place. He closes his eyes, firming up his face and shoving down his feelings as he forces himself to dry up, become stoic. He won’t show weakness now he’s outside.

Tom hears you exit the vehicle a few moments later, the crash of the door coupled with a few scuffles. He drowns out the words of the officers whilst they reel off a list of fabricated crimes, smugness evident in their voices. Good for fucking them.

When they eventually release him, he’s cuffed and weaponless, his spirit bent in two. The metal of his car had hurt his face, but nothing breaks Tom’s heart more than the sight of you being held back by two officers, tears streaming down your face. You bring your hands into the shaky outline of a heart, and it’s the last thing he sees before he’s pushed into the back of a van.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s day goes from bad to worse.

It’s clear that everyone at the station has been waiting for him to fuck up. He’s met with sly smiles and teasing comments as he’s reacquainted with some of his most despised wardens and guards. He’s held in a temporary cell for almost a day and quizzed on the shreds of ‘evidence’ they’d procured from his house during a raid, and though Tom declines to answer every single question they throw at him, their smugness never fades.

He walks into the trial already knowing he’s going to be locked up, and not even the sight of you beside Harrison and Harry on the benches soothes him.

Five years. He’s charged with five years.

Now, Tom isn’t worried. He knows he won’t actually be held in a cell for that long. He’s already had correspondence with Harrison, who’s assured him that he’s working on it, and there’s really nothing much to worry about. Tom has been in this situation twice before, and on both occasions, he’d been released in less than a month. The connections he’s built from his years heading up the mob are reliant and unwavering, and he knows he won’t have to serve even a fifth of his sentence.

The only difference between the times before and now is you, and Tom can only fucking pray that you don’t despise him for dirtying your name with his crimes. You’d been normal before him—a waitress, aspiring painter, an innocent. Despite your insistence that you love him with all strings attached, his guilt weighs him down. He doesn’t give a fuck about the law and whatever twisted loopholes the jury had bought, but he does care about you and what you think of him. That’s the hardest part.

Two weeks pass achingly slowly.

Prison isn’t that bad for Tom. He’s pretty fucking lucky, all things considered. He has friends here—blokes he’d met around town, most of whom are willing to welcome him in. A few of his old guys are locked behind bars with him, unwavering in their loyalty and more than happy to absorb him as members of their group. Those who don’t know Tom know of him. His reputation as a murderous, cold-hearted killer follows him inside, regardless of its falsity. Tom hasn’t taken a life in three years, but these men don’t need to know that.

“Holland! Get the fuck up. You’re in the gym.”

Tom glances up. He’s lying on top of his bed, one hand propped behind his head, the other holding open a book. He isn’t an avid reader like you, but you’d sent him a copy of your favourite book with scribbled annotations in the margins, and he’s been spending every hour since its arrival clinging to the pages.

He sighs as he puts the book down and stands from the lower bunk. He’s in with a young lad, Ollie, booked on a minor drugs charge. Why they’d paired someone on such a minimal sentence with a member of the mob, Tom will never understand, but the fear in the lad’s eyes every time he looks at him is enough to keep his wavering ego bobbing just above the waterline.

“Step away from the door.”

Tom does as instructed. A moment later, there’s a loud buzzer followed by the swinging of the heavy metal door.

In walks Luther, Tom’s archnemesis. If the inmates fear him, the guards despise him, and to be fair, Tom understands why. He’s a bit of a dick when he’s behind bars. Usually, when he’s free, he operates with a level of poise and charm that comes with his position as leader. He speaks to his men with a firm but kind hand, respects everyone he deems his equal and commands supreme authority without becoming a tyrant. However, when he has his freedom stripped away, and he has to bend to fit the system’s will, his attitude becomes… problematic.

“Holland,” Luther barks. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, coughing loudly, cheeks flushed a ruddy red. He snarls at Tom, his voice like jagged glass. “Come on.”

“You alright, mate?” Tom asks. “You sound fucking terrible.” He looks it, too, with a dripping nose and red-rimmed eyes. He looks ill.

Luther’s features sharpen. “Get over here now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom swaggers to the door and dodges a little as Luther cuffs him, the man digging the metal into his skin with extra ferocity. They start to march down the long, grey corridor towards the fitness suite, Luther prodding Tom forward with a hand digging into his back.

“How’s your wife?” Tom tries, tired of the echoing footsteps.

Luther sighs. “How’s yours?”

“She’s doing very well, thank you.”

The guard tuts. “Does she like having a criminal for a husband?”

“Does yours like being married to such a wanker— hey!”

Luther pushes him down the corridor with haste. “Quiet, Holland,” he mutters. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Well, then it’s too bad you’re stuck with me,” Tom replies. “Did you know that if me being here annoys you so much, you could always let me go? That would sort out your problem.”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah? Let London’s most wanted convict escape?”

Tom raises a brow. “London’s most wanted?” he echoes. “Wow.” Pride seeps into his voice. “That’s an accomplishment.”

“Not a positive one. Self-absorbed bastard.”

It’s easy to laugh. Letting the comments bounce off his back is easier than admitting the jibe about you has irked him. Do you like having a criminal for a partner? Even Tom, for all the world has jaded him, knows no sane person would rest well with the knowledge that their significant other has lied, stolen, and killed. It doesn’t lie well with him, and he was born into this.

They reach the gym.

Tom sticks to the same workout regime he has at home. He does his cardio for twenty minutes on the wobbling treadmill, then sits around on the bench press and does curls with a few of the guys. He keeps quiet, his mind loud, only adding a few comments when necessary. His sullenness adds to his image, and he’s busy with thoughts of you. By the time he’s finished, he feels arguably worse than before. The endorphins from his workout are overshadowed by the guilt Tom feels, clawing at his heart, heavy and persistent in its certainty that he’s a lousy partner.

He can handle being a bad guy, but a bad man? A bad brother, bad friend, or bad lover? The opinions of the guards mean nothing to him, and neither does the law, but when it comes to the people he cares about, their opinions mean everything. Tom has let Luther get into his head, and whilst he knows that was the guard’s intention, the seed of doubt has been planted. As he pumps iron, he feels it grow, taking root, blooming taller.

“Holland. Time to go.”

He grunts as he stands. Sweaty and sore, Tom hobbles to the doorway, feeling considerably smaller than he had when he’d left his cell. The cuffs hurt his wrists as his hands are clasped back together, and the walk back feels even longer than before.

“You had a parcel delivered,” Luther says, breaking the silence. “It arrived last week.”

Tom’s eyebrows pull together. “Last week?”

“I thought I should hold it back until you’d settled in,” comes the patronising response. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many new experiences, Thomas. Not that being in here is anything out of the ordinary for you, though.”

He feels his jaw twitch. He flexes his hand, knuckles burning for movement. Not yet, not yet. He has to wait, has to play the long game.

“You’re a dick,” Tom decides. He doesn’t care that he gets thrown roughly into the cell. He trips over the floor and barely manages to scrape himself to his feet, but he throws out a smirking “fuck you,” before the door slams shut. He’d follow it up with more snide remarks, but he becomes distracted by the sight of the parcel sitting on his bed.

It’s neat, despite the obvious intrusion into its contents by the guards. He flops onto his lower bunk, glad his cellmate is absent as it allows him to drop the ruse. Lips sagging into a frown, Tom rips open the package.

He releases a fragile sound as the contents pour across his duvet. Polaroids fall across the sheets, glistening slightly, neat and pristine. A lump comes to the back of his throat as he shuffles through them, finding images of you, Harry, Sam, Tess… The list carries on. For every person he can think of, there’s an image captured perfectly in time. He even appears in a few of them, with his hand around Haz’s shoulder or his lips pressed to your temple.

He finds a note attached at the bottom.

Tom, I thought you’d want some reminders of home while you’re away. We’re all looking forward until the day you can come home to us. Love you forever, Y/N <3

As Tom traces the edge of his nail along the outline of your face, his eyes well with hot tears. You always know what he needs, even when he doesn’t. You know him, inside out, and you’re continuing to support him, despite it all. He is indebted to you, and he knows already that as soon as he’s let out, he’ll spend every second of his life trying to repay that.

The seed of doubt burns away.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks later, Tom finally gets to see you again.

The prison visiting room is fucking grim. Toned in sludgy shades of grey and brown, it’s about as ugly as it could be. There are window slits pressed high into the walls, but the primary source of light is from the musky bulbs set above each table. The chairs are uncomfortable, and the decor lacks inspiration. Tom often wonders if the room was designed to be as revolting as possible.

Despite this, as Tom shuffles into the room that smells suspiciously of plasticine, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t matter that his wrists ache from the cuffs, nor that the garish shade of orange clashes horrendously against his skin: you’re here, and that makes everything better.

You’re sitting at the table in the corner of the room, drumming your fingers pensively over the surface. His eyes catch on the glinting ring wrapped around your fourth finger, and the sense of longing that had settled in the hollowness of his chest is quickly burnt away. Sensing his movements, you glance up, and when your eyes meet with his, Tom feels his heart come home.

You raise a hand in greeting, smiling shyly, and he tries to look as non-threatening as possible. He knows the new buzzcut and the stupid get-up probably don’t help, but you don’t look at him like he’s any different.

As he draws nearer, Tom finds himself blinking a few times, questioning how long you’ve been separated. The version of you he has holed up in his memories pales in comparison to the woman that he sees before him now, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. You seem fuller somehow—vibrant, glowing, alive, your face doused in a heavenly glow and your skin bright with health. Your figure has changed slightly, and Tom can’t stop himself from running his eyes all over you, trying to memorise every tiny detail his memory had blurred away. You look so beautiful, every single part of your form enhanced and bright, and your chest—

Fuck, it’s been a long time.

“Y/N,” he exhales the moment he’s been pushed into his seat. His guard unclasps his cuffs, and Tom immediately reaches out across the table, almost moaning from relief when you wrap your fingers around his. Your skin is so warm.

“Tom,” you whisper. Emotion seeps into your voice, and he feels his chest crack as tears pool in your eyes. “Are you okay? I— I missed you.”

He hums, biting his lip. “I’m fine, baby. I’m okay. Are you?”

You nod quickly. “I’m okay too,” you say. “Things are strange without you, but we’re working around the clock to get you out of here.” You drop your voice slightly. “I think we’re near a breakthrough.”

Tom’s teeth brush his lower lip. “Good, good,” he says. “How’s Tess? And Harry, and the others? Are they looking out for you?”

“Yeah,” you say. You squeeze Tom’s hands tightly. “They’re all okay. Mainly just worried about you.”

He shrugs, trying to lessen the furrow in your brow. “‘M all good, darling,” he promises. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes skate across his face. “I like your hair,” you say gently. For a moment, Tom thinks you’re going to try and reach out to touch the buzzed fuzz, but you seem to remember that anything beyond handholding is prohibited. You have to settle for a slightly suggestive smile. “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, lovie.”

Your smile is sad but it’s still hopeful. Whatever emotions you’re feeling, it’s clear that you’re trying to smooth them away and keep them to yourself. “There’s something I wanted to tell you,” you say, easing into the words with difficulty. Tom watches as you look away, doubt casting across your face.

“What is it?” Vaguely, Tom remembers how skittish you’d been the day he’d been taken away, the memory distorted from the noise of everything else that had happened. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You bite your lower lip. “Uh, just first… how are you holding up in here? Like, actually. Don’t bullshit me and play the tough guy.” Your eyes are wide and persistent. “How are you actually doing?”

Tom blinks a few times. “Fine,” he shoots immediately. He clenches your fingers tightly in his, clinging on for a moment until he exhales. “I wish I could be here for you properly, though. It worries me that I don’t know what’s happening on the outside…” He hates being left out in the dark, but it isn’t your fault. It’s his. “I wish I could be a better boyfriend to you.”

“Fiancé,” you correct, the word soft like it’d left your mouth without thought. “You’re already a good boyfriend, Tom. I knew what I was signing up for. I wanted this back then, and I still do now.”

“Still,” he grumbles. He tries to even out the heaviness of the conversation with a smile. “I think about you all the time, baby. And the others too, but… mostly you. I just hate that I’m missing out on our life together.” He has to stop for a moment as he recollects his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I did this to us, and I’m sorry I let you down.”

You crack a wry smile. “You can’t change the past, Tom. You can only affect the future.” You pause, your expression hardening. “I need to know that you’ll go slower when you get out. I know this is your life, but some things need to change. We— I need you to stay out of trouble. Do you understand?”

He nods his head immediately. “Of course, of course. I don’t ever want to get arrested again, darling.”

You drop your voice. “I’m not saying you need to quit everything, just… get better safeguards and be smarter. I love who you are, Tom, but this…” You break off to gesture around, pointing vaguely at his cuffs, the jumpsuit, and the guards. “This isn’t good for you or for me. And I love you, but I won’t stay if you don’t try.”

It’s hard to hear, but he knows it’s what he deserves to hear. He knows you deserve to stand your ground.

“I know,” Tom says gently. “I’ll get clean when I’m out, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be a good man by you.”

You squeeze his fingers tighter. “You already are,” you promise, “and I love you so much, even when you’re being an idiot.”

He laughs breathlessly. “Thank you, darling.” Tom tilts his head to the side. “What was it you wanted to say?”

Conflict briefly colours your face, manifesting itself in the arch of your eyebrow and the biting of your lower lip. You inhale sharply, only to exhale again a moment later.

“I’ll tell you when you’re out,” you say softly.

Tom scowls. There’s no anger there, just confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

You shake your head. “I… Pretend I never said anything,” you say. You follow it up with a quick, “if I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you.”

He doesn’t want to push it, so Tom lets the topic slip away. You sit together silently for a few minutes. It’s hard to talk, difficult to express how much he misses you, how much he’s sorry. He knows that you understand—you always do, and you have similar tears wobbling across your eyes. Talking can come afterwards when he’s out and he’s free. All he needs now is the feeling of your hand back in his.

The visit is over far too soon.

Leaving you is difficult. Tom isn’t allowed to hug you or go any nearer than the linked hands on the table, but you tug at his fingers until he feels the imprint of your engagement ring rubbing against his skin. He even manages to kiss your knuckles a few times before he’s pulled up from the table and cuffed again.

“Be on your best behaviour,” you say, soft with your parting words. “The lawyer says the better you are, the easier it’ll be to get you out early.”

Tom has a bit of his spark back. Even as he’s pulled back, he manages a devious smirk. “When am I ever not on my best behaviour, darling?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A few days later, Tom snaps.

To be fair, it isn’t really his fault. He’s pushed to the very verge of insanity, prodded at and provoked beyond the point of return.

It happens when he’s in the barber, huddled in the back corner of the room as he gets a new tattoo. Tom is used to the pain of the burning needles as he already has a few pieces on his arms and his hands, so he’s able to take the fresh marks to his knuckles as the ink stains black against his skin. However, he’s a bit on edge from the sharp buzzing, which is perhaps why he responds so negatively to the taunting he starts to receive. It comes from Toni and the rest of his snivelling gang. They’re all members of the East London mob, ruled over by Tom’s nemesis Gordy. Most of the time, they stick to their side and Tom sticks to his, but they’ve caught him in a vulnerable position, and Toni never seems to know how to pick his timing.

It’s basic teasing, instilled with a brutal hard edge that would phase him if Tom cared enough about their opinions of him. It doesn’t hurt him when people attack his character or his honour—Tom knows the truth about his life, and he couldn’t give two shits about an outsider’s opinion of him. However, he finds it a lot harder to grin and bear it when the man changes angle.

“Word is, a couple of our guys saw your missus out with Haz the other day,” Toni taunts. “He said they were getting real close if you know what I mean.”

Tom’s jaw flexes. The action is minute, but it doesn’t go undetected. Toni smirks.

“Eh, you don’t like that, do you?” The man steps a little closer and Tom tries to ignore him by looking down at the needle pressing into his fingers. “Don’t like the idea of your best friend hanging around your wife. Can you even trust them?” He breaks off, laughing coolly. “They think you’re so stupid, did you know that? You’ll get out of here, and they’ll have cut you out of everything—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tom murmurs. He flexes his right hand, shaking out his knuckles. With every passing day, he’s felt tetchier. He can feel his anger burning, churning deep within his stomach, growing brighter, harder. He knows he shouldn’t lean into it, but… He wants to. He craves that rush of the fight, selfishly so.

“But she’s not your wife, is she? You aren’t actually married. Have you ever thought that maybe she’s just using you? Maybe they all are? Look at you, Tom.” Toni breaks off to throw a disdainful hand in Tom’s direction. “You are so weak in here… How are any of your guys going to respect you when their leader can’t even stay out the slammer?”

The guy tattooing Tom’s hand finally pulls away, glancing up at him with knowing in his eyes. “You’re done,” he says. “Don’t do anything with that hand, though.”

“Thanks, man.”

Tom stands up, Toni mirroring him. The man looms in front of him, 6’2 and stocky. He’s larger than Tom in every respect, but he’ll never be the bigger man.

“Get out of my way,” Tom sneers.

“Make me, twat.” Toni smirks. “Or are you too much of a pussy to follow through on that as well?”

Tom sees red. Acting on the edge of adrenaline, he pounces, rushing the man and jumping with so much unexpected force that the larger man goes tumbling to the floor. Tom hears the shouts of the guards, but they pale in comparison to his need to straddle the man’s chest and make him pay. With each meeting of his fist with Toni’s face, Tom feels better. He’s never been an excessively violent person, but old habits die hard, and it’s so, so, so fucking easy to pummel the guy who dared breath an uncomplimentary word in his family’s direction. Tom would put the whole city six feet under if they so much as breathed wrong around his loved ones, so really, Toni had it coming.

The prison guards don’t agree.

He ends up in solitary, and when he’s put back into the normal population, Tom is given restrictions. He isn’t allowed visitors for a fortnight, and his calls are reduced to once a week. All other privileges he’d had are taken away again, and he’s relegated to the very bottom of the pecking order.

It’s still worth it.

When he’s finally allowed visitors again, Tom is surprised to learn that his next meeting isn’t with you or his lawyer. Things only make sense when he shuffles into the meeting room and sees his right-hand man settled in the corner, and if Tom had found the room drab before, it appears even more depressing with the addition of the blond man sitting in it. Harrison sucks the life from the room, any hints of happiness at being reunited with his friend overshadowed by the pinched expression on his face.

The guards don’t let Tom take off his cuffs. He has to sidle into the chair, falling into the heavy silence as he places his hands on the table. Metal links click, and Harrison just stares. He stares, and stares, and stares, his blue eyes almost black.

“So,” Tom eventually says. “Hello.”

Harrison’s jaw twitches. He brings his hands to rest on the top of the table, flexing them as he takes a moment to find the right words. “Tom,” he says, speaking very slowly. “You are a twat.”

He blinks. “Wow,” Tom mutters, chuckling slightly. “Okay. Good to see you too, mate.”

“Do you…” Harrison breaks off, groaning. His forehead develops angry ripples. “Do you understand how detrimental this has been to your case?”

Tom bites his lip, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve been pushed to the bottom of the pile,” Harrison says, voice controlled but simmering with unspoken anger. “We were about to get your appeal passed for early release.” He sits back, crossing his arms as he shakes his head. “There’s been a penalty applied due to your stint in solitary. Your case won’t be assessed until it’s lifted.”

Tom feels his stomach drop. “Shit,” he mutters. “That’s not ideal.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Harrison sits forward, leaning on his hands. “You are a bloody idiot. Stop acting like a child… Why… Why did you even attack him? You must have known this would happen. Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t like the patronisation in his tone. Tom’s already beat himself up enough about this in solitary. He doesn’t need Harrison questioning his judgements, doesn’t appreciate his friend breathing down his neck so obviously.

“He deserved it,” Tom says firmly. “I would do it again.”

“You can’t. You absolutely cannot.”

“I think you’ll find that I can, Harrison.” There’s a stupid smirk on his lips now. Tom’s missed being a little shit to his friends. He knows it’s not the time, but he’s vibrating. The callous concoction of shame, anger and isolation make him volatile and abrasive. “I’m pretty sure I can do whatever the fuck I want, actually.”

The expression that mars Harrison’s face looks very out of place against his demeanour. The man is in a long black trench coat with a tight grey turtleneck layered beneath it. He has a few pendants hanging from his neck, the gold metal bringing out the warm tones in his curls, mussed in a way that screams of old charm and perfect romance. Harrison’s illusion of control falters only under the pressure of the anger that manifests itself so clearly on his face.

“Tom.” Harrison bangs his fist on the table. The ring wrapped around his pinky clangs against the wood. “You can’t keep this up. If you do, the case gets pushed further, and that is unacceptable.”

Tom scowls. “Well, Haz, last time I checked, I was the one who has to deal with the consequences of my actions. Not you.” He can’t stand the expression of condescension hanging over Harrison’s face. “If I want to throw a few punches, I bloody well will. You have no idea what it’s like in here. No idea at all.”

Harrison’s angered expression fades a little, but only for a moment. When Tom hardens the curve of his eyebrow, Harrison devolves into irritation again, almost snarling as he narrows his eyes. “Your actions affect everyone in your life,” he snaps. “Stop pretending you’re the only one paying for the things that you’ve done.”

“I’m the one with the cuffs, Harrison. I’d say I’m paying considerably more than anyone else.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah? Tell that to the men who had their property searched and their possessions seized. Tell that to your family, who continue to be pulled in for questioning. Tell that to Y/N, who—” he breaks off awfully quickly, cheeks flushing slightly. “Nevermind.”

Tom’s blood goes cold. “Y/N?” he repeats sharply. “What about Y/N?”

“Nothing.”

He sits up straighter. “What about Y/N, Harrison?”

“Nothing.”

Tom is angry now. “Tell me right now or god help me, I will find a way to kill you.”

Harrison rolls his eyes, then covers the movement with a sigh. “I can’t. It isn’t my place.” He seems regretful as he jumps in to add, “she’s fine. She just needs you. We all do.”

The guilt returns. It falls over Tom like a wet blanket, extinguishing his frustration and leaving him cold. “Does she… Does she hate me?” He’s looking down at his cuffs.

“What— no. No, Tom.” Harrison looks guilty for the first time, but at least he isn’t confirming Tom’s deepest insecurities. “Nothing like that at all. Just… Listen to me, alright? You need to behave. I know it’s hard in here, I know that, and I understand it must be frustrating. You just… You can’t let that rule you, Tom. You have to look at the bigger picture. You need to come home, and the sooner the better.”

It’s easier said than done, but he knows Harrison is earnest with it.

“Fine,” Tom grumbles. “I’ll behave.”

Harrison nods. “Thanks, mate,” he mutters. “We all miss you, myself included.” He glances up at him, eyes finally back to the cool blue tones Tom grew up beside. “It isn’t the same without you around.”

Tom manages a tight smile. “I miss you too.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS since Tom was taken away, and you are miserable.

Every day has been the same. You wake up, nauseous and alone, always on Tom’s side of the bed despite forcing yourself to fall asleep on your own. The mornings are a blur of paperwork and phone calls that follow you into the afternoon. You work around the clock, Harrison, Harry and Sam at your side as you go over Tom’s case, again and again, only stopping when night falls, and one of you throws in the towel.

You had been so close to springing him until he’d gone and got himself demoted to solitary, and there’s not a morning that you don’t think about that. You’d submitted the appeal, stacked full of so much evidence that there was no way the judge would deny him freedom, only for Tom to get into a fistfight the day before the hearing. Just like that, the floor had vanished from beneath your feet.

You’d taken it badly, the others too. Losing Tom to the judge’s gavel had been hard enough, but for his escape to be taken away by his own actions hurt a thousand times worse. You know it’s worse for him, being alone in a cell, but that doesn’t stop the bitterness seeping into your mouth every time you think about the lost chance. Harry and Sam had been incensed, their anger fuelled by the void of a missing brother, and you know Harrison’s frustration comes from similar veins.

Even now that Tom’s served his time in solitary, the frustration lingers on, manifesting itself in the way none of you could decide who should go and visit him first. Under normal conditions, you would’ve been there in a heartbeat, but… Things have been complicated, even without recent events, more so than they’d been when you’d visited two months ago. When Harrison had bitten the bullet and volunteered himself, all of you had been more than happy to let him go.

He’d left this morning, and the house has been quiet ever since.

You’re sitting up in one of the spare rooms as you wait for Harrison to return, your back aching and your mind spinning. You twirl the rings on your fingers as you think, taking turns alternating between your engagement ring and the silver signet rings you’d taken from Tom’s dresser. Keeping him close makes everything easier. You’d take any reminder of him you could get, be that his rings, his shirts, his cologne, or…

The baby.

You shift a hand down to sit on the swell of your belly. Tears prick your eyes as you let them close, a frustrated sigh tumbling past your lips.

You’re four months pregnant, and that throws a spanner in the works.

Sure, you would’ve tried equally as hard to get Tom released under normal conditions, but the biological countdown that has now been sprinkled into the mix has only given everything an air of desperation. Even if it isn’t you vocalising what everyone else is thinking, the fervour to get Tom out before it’s too late is there. You can see it in the way Harrison never lets you go anywhere unaccompanied, and Harry and Sam have been working nonstop to get their brother’s freedom. Everyone around you is aware of how vital Tom’s release is, even when the man himself remains oblivious.

Exhaling gently, you shift around on the cosy armchair. The nursery smells of fading paint, and as you move around, you glance at the messy borders of the walls. The sex of your baby is still a mystery to you, but a few days ago, the twins had freshened up the room with a shade of light green whilst you and Harrison were in court. Neither of them is particularly artistically inclined, but they’d done a pretty decent job, all things considered.

Tom’s family have all been good to you—very kind. You haven’t felt alone, even with half your heart locked away in the outskirts of London. It just hasn’t been the idyllic pregnancy you’d dreamt about with your fiancé.

Guilt falls across you as you look down at the rising swell of your belly.

It’s been hard trying to decide whether or not to tell Tom what you’d tried to come clean about three months ago, down by the Thames. You’d wanted to tell him when you’d gone to visit him, but you couldn’t find the heart to come clean and admit that he’s missing out on the one thing he’s waited for his entire life. Telling him would hurt him immensely, and he’s already hurting being away from you. You don’t want to tell him until he can be part of it, and with that uncertainty present, you’ve kept your lips sealed.

Visiting him today in place of Harrison is all you really wanted to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’re vulnerable and explosive, and you want to come clean to Tom when the situation is better. There would be nothing worse than storming into that dingy meeting room, flaunting your obvious pregnancy but being too distracted by your anger at your fiancé to explain everything else. You won’t hurt him like that by taunting him with the one thing he wants but can’t have. You refuse to.

All you can do is hope that he forgives you for holding the information back, pray that he understands your motivations, and, above all, hold onto the hope that he’s there when your child comes into the world.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

Blinking yourself from your reverie, you look up through the open door.

“In here, Sam.”

A moment later, Tom’s younger brother appears in the doorway. The man looks as exhausted as you feel, deep shadows hanging beneath his hazel eyes. When he sees you, his mouth pulls into a small smile and he lifts his hand in greeting, and you can tell that he’s trying. You try to match him by sitting up a little straighter and smiling back.

“Hey,” he says. “I was just… bored, I guess. Thought I’d come and check on you.” Doubt briefly flickers across his face. “Is that okay? Are you busy?”

“I’m bored too,” you admit. You stand from the armchair and groan as you stretch your arms, your stiff back aching. “Do you want to do something?”

Sam grins. “Fuck yeah,” he says. “Can we try the mural?”

Wincing, you manage a smile. “Okay… But if it looks terrible, I will paint over it.”

“As if. I’m the artistic one here, Y/N. Just be glad Harry’s still away.”

“Did someone mention me?” Harry’s voice rings through the air, startling you. With a hand clutching your heart, you look to your side in time to see Sam’s twin taking his place at your side. Where Sam is in a shirt and tie, Harry is clad in a pair of deep denim dungarees. He offers you a rusty smile. “We’re just filling in these lines, yeah?”

Sam’s the one to nod. He gestures at the wall and you notice the faint outlines, scratched in pencil. “Be precise,” he informs, “it took me bloody ages sketching it.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shooting you a silent smirk. “Yes, sir,” he mutters. “Anything you want, sir.”

“Fuck off.”

Harry pulls a face. “Well,” he says, looking at you pointedly, “I hope you’re keeping a record of how many times Sam is swearing around the baby, Y/N.”

Brows furrowing, you pick up a paintbrush. “Why would I be doing that?”

The ginger grins. “Just betters my case for being the better uncle,” he says.

“Oh, what? Don’t you mean the boring uncle?” Sam chides, bristling beside you.

Harry laughs. “I will be the favourite uncle. I don’t care what you say, Sammy. Both of us know it.”

Rolling your eyes at the argument you’ve heard a thousand times before, you give them both a nudge. “Shh,” you plead. “Paint, don’t fight.”

Sam shoots you a soft smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

With a smile lingering on your lips, you watch as Harry puts on one of his playlists, then relax as the three of you get to work. None of you say anything, but the air is full enough—tickled to life with Sam’s quiet whistling and the sound of paintbrushes thick against the wall. You concentrate on the intricate details of the mural, like the outlines of the clouds and the spirals of the grass, and marvel at how wonderful it is to be so content in silence. It’s indicative of how tight your bond has grown, you think.

No longer despising solitude, you’ve found a comfortable middle ground around the men. You and Tom’s inner circle have learned to work together well, stringing together complex case files as you’ve organised accounts. Nothing you’ve been doing recently is legal, but you would’ve left a long time ago if you genuinely cared about the law. You can stomach a few fixed accounts if it means Tom gets to walk free—you can stomach a whole lot more than that, actually, for Tom. You’d set the whole world on fire just to see him smile.

Like the splotchy mural covering the walls, your team has got the job done. Your case for the court is watertight, if a little messy, but you know it’ll be enough to spring Tom. It has to be. You need him, and your child needs him. Everyone in the house needs him.

“Guys? Where are you?” Harrison’s voice joins the mix just as you’re stretching up to flick a few rays of gold into the sun. Harry is at your feet, crouching on the balls of his feet as he tries to paint a few red flowers to the sprigs of grass.

“Nursery,” Harry calls out.

A few moments later, Harrison joins you. You fail to meet his eyes as the focused man sweeps into the room, billowing coat swirling around his feet. His expression is terse as he jerks off his jacket and grabs a paintbrush, dipping the tip in a bit of sky blue paint before standing at the end. You don’t rush him. He’s vibrating with something, his face flushed and his eyes dark, so you give him space.

A few minutes pass, illustrated by Harry’s playlist and the colours of the rainbow. Just when you’re beginning to worry, Harrison speaks.

“Tom is an idiot,” he states, drawing a laugh from one of the twins.

You bite your lip. “Did you explain?” you ask.

Harrison nods. He glances at you, and you note the fleck of purple paint pressed into the pale arc of his cheek. “He said he wouldn’t do it again,” he tells you. “He was angry, though. I think he’s having a bad time.”

Harry hums. “It’s hard in there,” he mumbles. “Was he still himself?”

The blond nods. “Yeah,” he says. “As snarky as ever.”

Sam smirks. “That’s Tom, alright.”

“Good news, though,” Harrison adds. “I went to the courthouse on my way back.”

“Oh?” You look away from your cloud, your heart skipping a beat. “And?”

“And,” Harrison continues, a semblance of a smile twitching across his lips, “I submitted the appeal again. They said they’d probably process it next week. So, if things go according to plan this time, he might be out by next Friday.”

You almost drop your paintbrush. Eyes widening, you turn to face him properly. “Wait, really?”

Harrison’s expression softens. “Yeah.” He puts his paintbrush down, tugging yours from your fingers as if he can tell you’re close to dropping it. “He’s almost out, Y/N.”

Relief spills across you, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Closing your eyes before those easy tears can fall down your cheeks, you step closer and push your way into Harrison’s embrace. He’s ready and waiting for the action, eager to comfort his friend.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Harrison’s chest is warm, and though his hugs aren’t as good as Tom’s, you’ve come to rely on them. You’ve come to rely on all of them. “That’s amazing news.”

“Mhmm.” He squeezes you. “This nightmare is almost over.”

“Thanks, man,” Harry speaks up. You pull away from Harrison’s hold when you hear the quivering tones in his voice, quickly glancing to the man to find him glassy-eyed and flushed. Biting your lip, you extend a hand towards him.

A group hug unfolds, as it’s had the tendency to do since Tom was taken away. The first time had been stoic and cool, with frozen elbows and embarrassed shuffling, but slowly, each one of them has loosened. They’re tough men, burdened and hard, but love ties them to you, and at your request, you know they’d do anything for you. You also know that they all enjoy the physical comfort more than they’d ever let on.

It’s been hard without Tom, and you’d do anything to have him back, but if there’s anything his absence has taught you, it’s that his brothers have become your brothers as his best friend has become your own, and you’ve never really been alone.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s release day comes quickly, hidden behind the retrial and the quick-paced days in court. It’s busy at the trial, and spaces are limited, so Harry and Sam attend in place of you and Harrison. You get them to take in a few letters for Tom and pass on your condolences for your absence, but you don’t allow yourself to get too hung up on it. When Tom’s release is announced, the weight that rolls from your shoulders is immediate.

As you wait outside the prison, you try to find solace in the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. It’s quiet in the car park, allowing you to ruminate in peace, and though you’re comfortable resting against the bonnet of Tom’s car, your thoughts are far from restful.

Anxiety weighs heavily in your chest, mixing with your excitement and creating a volatile concoction. You find yourself pacing, biting back your nerves as you try to reason with yourself. Draped around your shoulders is a long coat that obscures your bump, chosen as you’ve decided you don’t want to overwhelm Tom with too many things at once. You hope it does the job. The coat twitches in the wind as you walk, noisy and obnoxious.

Things around you are still until there’s a sudden, loud buzzing noise from the prison compound. You jerk your head around to see two men leaving the main building, small in the distance but gradually growing larger. They’re still enclosed in the fenced courtyard, but they’re on their way to the exit, and every rational thought you have flies from your mind as you see him. Tom. Your Tom.

He’s in the clothes he’d been arrested in—red shirt, black slacks, shiny shoes. Looped around his hands is his Rolex and his rings. Tom seems almost identical to how he’d been on that cursed day, just his head is buzzed and he looks a little smaller. He’s carrying himself with confidence, though, and when he looks fervently around the car park and spots you, his entire face swells with happiness. The sight of that large, lovely smile hanging from his lips brings immediate warmth to your eyes.

Every breath is easier now you have him in your sights. Overwhelming love gluts your insides, warm and emotive, choking you up. It takes everything in you to stay still as you wait for Tom to finish talking with his guard, a tall man you recognise from all of his stories, Luther. Tom’s smirking in a way that’s obviously infuriating, and the guard doesn’t hesitate to give him a light punch as your boyfriend saunters out of prison, leaving the compound with a swagger to his stride and a smile the size of Saturn.

The sight of Tom jogging towards you breaks you from your reverie, and you push yourself away from the car to meet him somewhere in the middle. Nothing matters until you’re colliding with his front, finding warmth in his arms, feeling his entire body shake as his tears fall into your hair. Nothing matters unless it’s him.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. Your grip on the back of Tom’s shirt is hard, a violent sprawling across your knuckles, but you won’t let go. You’re giddy with love. “Fuck, Tom, I missed you so, so much.”

You pull away from his chest and look into his eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you note the fresh tears on his face. You use your thumbs to brush beneath his cheeks, flicking away the tears as you clean up his handsomeness.

“I missed you so much more,” he promises. Tom brings a hand to rest on the back of your head, breath hitching as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses you, and it’s so intense you end up pressed against the side of the car. Tom moans with relief as he strokes his fingers over the side of your face, delicately reacquainting his lips with yours as they meet again and again. You keep your hands gliding over his back, his arms, his shoulders, letting your tongues come together as tears flow down your cheeks. The kiss is everything and nothing, familiar and new. The kiss says I missed you. It says I thought about you every day. It says I would wait a thousand dawns if it meant I got to wake up beside you again, but thank fucking god you’re here right now because I missed you more than I ever thought was possible.

“Baby,” Tom murmurs. He pulls away but keeps your foreheads pressed together, the cool tip of his nose brushing yours. “You’re so perfect. I missed you so much that it hurt me.”

He tries to move closer, but you become aware of the pressure to your belly, so bring a gentle hand to push his shoulder away. Hurt immediately floods to his eyes, his expression twitching as Tom takes a few steps back.

“Tom,” you say, voice soft. “I need to tell you something.”

Tom’s jaw twitches. “What is it?” he whispers.

“A good thing,” you clarify. You reach up to wipe the residue of your tears away, then bring your hands down to the tie of your jacket. Biting your lip, you take a steadying breath. “I hope you aren’t angry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” you preface, “but I did it for you.”

Tom nods intensely. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s fine. I’m… I’m here, okay? For anything. It’s me and you. Just… me and you forever.”

A smile flickers across your face. “Me and you, and…” You gently open the front of your coat, then reach out for Tom’s hands. Guiding them slowly, you bring the warmth of his palms to rest on the rise of your bump.

“Wait…” Tom shifts his hands around your belly before staring up at you, slack-jawed. He doesn’t try to hide the obvious tears in his eyes. “You’re…?”

Nodding your head is easier than trying to speak.

“Oh god.” Tom sniffles. “What?” He immediately drops to his knees in front of you, his fancy dress trousers getting dirty in the dust. “How— how far along?”

“Almost five months,” you whisper. “I found out right before you got back from Liverpool. I was going to tell you when we went on that date, but…”

“But I fucked up.” Tom sounds wrecked, his aching eyes fixed on the curve of your belly. “I fucked everything up. I… I left you alone for this entire time, and you had to do this all without me.” He rests his forehead against your bump, very, very gently, and you see him close his eyes. “I am a terrible partner.”

Rolling your fingers over the scruff of his hair, you guide him up to look at you. It’s second nature as you roll a thumb over his cheekbone, trying to instil the action with love and reassurance.

“I’m not angry,” you tell him. “You didn’t know, and you didn’t get arrested on purpose. If anything, you should be angry at me for keeping this a secret.” Your teeth catch your lower lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought telling you would only make things worse. I’m sorry.”

Tom shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t apologise.” He rests a hand on your leg, the other still on the curve of your front. “I’m sorry.” He drops his voice and looks at the bump. “And I’m sorry to you too, little one.” He nudges his mouth forward and deposits a soft kiss to your stomach. “I love you too.”

Digging one of your hands into your coat pocket, you pull out a photo. “Here,” you urge, handing it to your boyfriend. Tom takes it after a moment, his eyes slow to move away from your front.

He releases a noise somewhere between an exclamation and a choke, nimble fingers gripping the image from your ultrasound. His cheeks flush a brilliant rose.

“When was this?” he whispers.

“At three months,” you reply. You continue to run your hand over the top of his head, trying to soothe him as he absorbs so much information at once. “I went with my mum and Haz.”

“Haz?”

You nod. “Harry and Sam lost a bet.”

Tom hums. He looks between the photo and your bump, then nudges forward to kiss the rise again. His lips are so warm you can feel them through the material of your dress. “Have they been looking after you well enough?”

A light laugh slips past your lips. “Yeah,” you promise. “They helped so much, Tom. It was hard at first… Really hard. Especially when we thought you’d be in there for five years, but… Things worked out.” You have to pause to gather your thoughts. “We converted one of the rooms into a nursery. There’s still stuff left to do, and we can do that together, of course, but… They were all really helpful.”

“Good.” Tom looks up at you, still kneeling, and your hand slips down to cup his face. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I wish I could’ve been here for all of this.”

Shrugging gently, you squeeze his face. “You can be here for the rest of it,” you promise. “And, I guess… If we have another one, you’ll be there for all of that, right?”

“Of course, darling.” You smile as Tom tilts his lips to knock against the side of your palm.

“So it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Chuckling softly, you nod. “Yes,” you promise. “I love you, and I’m so happy this has happened for us, even if the timing was difficult.” Feeling yourself well up, you exhale slowly. “We’re going to be parents, Tom. Isn’t that crazy?”

“It’s brilliant.” Tom’s eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be a father.” He blinks. “What the fuck.”

Laughing, you move your hands to the crown of his head. “Yeah, it’ll take a while to get used to that.”

“I’ll get there,” he states. Tom returns his attention to the bump. “Hey, little one,” he coos, voice all silk and amber tones, “it’s going to be the biggest honour of my life being your dad.”

Tom spends a while at your feet, speaking softly to you and your bump, and you keep your hand resting on the back of his head. He’s weary when he finally climbs to his feet but regains some of that spark when you step forward to kiss him. You don’t mean to make it as heated as you do, but it hasn’t only been your heart that’s missed Tom. You’ve craved him, constantly, during every single lonely night, and now that he’s here, you’re willing to take everything you can get.

“I love you,” you say, hushed against his mouth.

Tom’s teeth brush over your lower lip, and you moan when he tugs. There’s a fervour to it, hot lust burning through sensitive emotions. He releases your lip and pulls back to stare at you, his eyes rippling darker.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. He brings his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. “I love everything about you.”

Your mouths come back together, and it’s messier than before, your lips wettening as your kisses become wilder. Tongues dance and teeth clash as your body temperature starts to rise. Now you’ve moved through the emotional reunion, you’re left with an underlying pulse—a heat throbbing persistently between your legs. The fire builds as you hear Tom’s grunts and feel the desperation in his hands when they grab at your sides and jerk you closer, his mouth devouring yours until your lips are puffy and tender. You’re greedy, chasing more, desiring everything you’ve missed out on in the months you’ve been apart from your lover.

“Darling,” Tom murmurs, breaking the kiss to whisper hotly against your lips, “I missed you, but if you keep this up, we’re not going to get home.”

Desire takes hold of you. “Who said I wanted to go home?” You push in closer, shifting slightly until you’re able to feel the hardness of his crotch pressing up against your thigh. The familiarity of it all makes you inhale sharply. You drop your tone, trying to seem coy as you speak, “I don’t think you understand how badly I needed you whilst you were away, Tom. I missed you.”

The tips of his teeth glint as he arches his brows. “Well…” Tom mumbles. “I owe you about four months of lost opportunities.” He swallows, briefly breaking from the lust-filled headspace to look guilty. You smooth it away by reaching down to squeeze at his hands. “If my radiantly stunning fiancé decides she wants me to start repenting for that now, then who am I to stop her?”

Rolling your eyes, you step away from the car. “You’re a suck-up,” you taunt. You plant a light kiss to his lips. “C’mon,” you urge. “The car.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “The backseat?” he teases. “Shit, angel. You must be desperate.”

Warmth tickles your face. “Shut up.”

Tom smirks deviously. “It’s okay,” he soothes. He darts forward to open the car door for you, resting his hand on your lower back as you step forward. “I’m just as desperate as you, baby.”

“I hate you,” you murmur. Tom follows you into the car, shutting the door behind you both. You wait for him to sit before straddling his lap, your legs stretching until you have a shin planted on either side of his thighs. The position is comfortable, with enough space between your bump and his chest for you to breath, and you whimper as Tom bends nearer to ghost his lips over yours.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs.

You want to tease him, but you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’re alright with too much adoration to even think about pressing it down.

“I really don’t,” you agree.

Tom makes a soft noise of vindication, the tip of his nose brushing yours for just a moment until he’s bearing down and bringing your lips together. You sigh, reaching up and urging him closer. His lips are lovely, and you enjoy kissing them for a while, but then you find yourself distracted by the open expanse of his neck. With his hair buzzed, you’re keenly aware of his throat, pale and sensitive, and if there’s one thing you remember about your boyfriend, it’s his affinity for lovebites.

You bring your lips to the side of his neck, nuzzling your mouth against the long, pale stretch of his throat. Smirking against his skin, you start to suckle deep hickeys against the side of his neck, revelling in the throaty gasps Tom deposits into the air in response.

“Fuck, darling,” Tom whines. He has a hand on your back, urging you closer. When you graze the tips of your teeth against his skin, he whimpers. “Shit. More.”

“More?” you tease. “Forgotten all your manners, Tom?”

He growls. The hand on your back shifts to the back of your head, and he jerks you ever closer. He’s still mindful, especially of the bump laying between you, but he knows just as well as you that you aren’t a piece of porcelain; you like being tugged around. You’ve missed it.

“Give me what I want, and maybe I’ll return the favour.” He says it like you’re oblivious to the desperation in his words. You decide to oblige him.

“Okay,” you murmur. You look up to meet his gaze, his honey-brown eyes full of appreciation. For a moment, it knocks you off balance. It’s so strange readjusting to having Tom back—almost overwhelming to be able to touch someone who had existed only in your memories for so many weeks. You drop your head and give him what he wants.

Tom’s skin tastes clean, and it smells distantly of pinecones. He groans, fisting at your hair and holding you close as you kiss and suck along his skin, drawing deep hues to the surface of his neck. He shifts in his seat, basking in the pain and whining every time you soothe a fresh mark with the warmth of your tongue. You keep your hand resting on his hair, the cropped length of his buzz prickly and coarse beneath the pads of your fingertips.

“Oh god yeah,” he murmurs, voice mingling with the wet noises coming from your lips. “Your mouth is so fucking good, baby. I missed it.” Grunting, he brings a hand to your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hips hard. “I thought about you all the time in there.”

Tom releases his hold on your hair and begins to stroke his hands over your back. As you continue to mark his neck, he starts to tease you, gradually dropping the heat of his palms lower and lower. You can’t stop yourself from bucking down into his hold, moaning against his neck as he grabs handfuls of your ass.

“Tom,” you break off to whimper, panting softly. You feel dizzy on the taste of his skin. “You’re being mean.”

“Mean?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “How am I being mean?” Tom squeezes the curves of your figure, his slender fingers warm against your skin. You’re in a dress, the material thin, and he doesn’t hesitate to curve his hands beneath the hem and bring them to rest over your panties. “You’re the one who wanted to come in here and get your hands all over me… I’m doing what you asked.” He breaks off, chuckling darkly. “That’s not how things usually work, though, is it?”

The air between you shifts.

You pull away from Tom’s neck, your mouth inflamed and throbbing. You have to dig your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your whimper when Tom brings a hand to the front of your legs, gently brushing two of his long fingers over the front of your panties. He’s teasing with it, eyes alight with deviousness, jaw set in a determined line.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Maybe I want to be in charge this time.”

Tom laughs gently. “Oh, yeah?” He rubs your cunt a little faster, causing you to suck in a sharp breath as you feel the delicate pressure on your clit. The contact makes your passage clench, growing wet enough to dampen the front of your panties. “So you don’t like this, hmm? You don’t want me to follow through on everything I have planned for you?”

“What have you got planned?”

He tuts. “Oh, I’m not going to tell you, angel. That’d be too easy. Either you want me to be in charge, or you decide to call the shots.” Tom smirks as he feels you buck down against his hand. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you’d find the strength to push back, but you don’t. It’s been so long, and your cunt is weeping already just from the husky tones in his voice.

“You’re in charge,” you whisper. The vindicated smirk he flashes in response is enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Damn right, baby.” Tom moves his hands away, pressing them to your waist instead. “Can you lay down for me, please?”

You shuffle across the car seat as instructed, Tom shifting until he’s kneeling in the footwell of the backseats. It’s a good thing the car is obscenely huge, otherwise, the already-cramped fit would be unworkable.

Draping your legs over Tom’s shoulders, he pushes the hem of your dress up, bunching it just above your bump. The hungry fire in his eyes fades slightly.

“Is this okay? Are you comfy?”

“It’s fine,” you soothe. “Are you okay down there?”

Tom nods. The scruff of his buzzed head scratches against your inner thighs. “I’m bloody perfect,” he responds. “Can I touch you?”

“Please do.”

The tip of his nose nuzzles against your covered clit. “Perfect,” Tom purrs, his breath hot against your panties. “I think it’s time I remind you who owns this fucking pussy… As hot as it was when you were trying to tell me what to do, it’s not on.” He brings his mouth away from your core, and you whimper as his tongue laps gently across your thigh, the muscle deliciously slippery. “I’m the one calling the shots.”

You’re throbbing, every inch of you aching for his touch. The burn is visceral—pulsing, wet. “Yes, sir,” you return. Tom’s eyes snap to yours. “Do whatever you want.”

“Say please.”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you add, “please.”

“Good, baby. You sound so pretty begging for me.” Tom easily pulls your panties down your legs, returning to push your thighs further apart. He brings both of his thumbs to your sensitive lips, humming when you whimper. Using the pads of his fingers, he gently parts your centre, groaning softly at the sight. “Say it,” he murmurs, entranced by the paradise between your legs. “Tell how badly you want me.”

He’s incredibly infuriating, but you play right into his hand. “Please, Tom,” you whine. “Please touch me.”

He hums. “Of course, lovie,” he murmurs. He glances up at you. “All you had to do was ask.”

The first touch of his tongue against your slit makes your eyes roll back. A breathless whine slips past your lips as his mouth envelops your clit, the strong tip of his tongue nuzzling over your sensitive skin in a way you’ve only dreamed of. You’ve been able to get off in his absence, but nothing can simulate the sizzling heat of his mouth and his tongue, nor the scratching of his short hair against your fleshy inner thighs.

The way he unravels you is obscene, toned with the sounds of spit and lazy lips, the sensations of desperation. Tom devours you, using his elbows to push your thighs apart as he buries his face as close to your centre as possible. You can barely see him over the rise of your belly, but you can certainly feel him. When you start to grind down against his face, things only escalate, your eyes fluttering shut as your spine arches in response to his feverish movements.

“Oh god,” he murmurs, voice thick as it vibrates across you. “Missed this… Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart.”

Your high rolls over you suddenly and without warning, manifesting itself in a silent cry as your body goes rigid. You hear Tom hum in surprise, then feel his hands lock around your thighs, holding back your legs as they shake in the face of absolute pleasure.

“Sorry,” you pant, recovering gradually, “I didn’t know that was going to happen then.”

Tom runs his tongue over your slit, still sensitive and throbbing. “‘S okay, lovie,” he replies, voice warm. He nuzzles in closer and brings two slender fingers to push against your entrance. Your hole is hot and pulsing, pooled with your arousal. You hear it pucker as he gently presses against your cunt, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. “I’m not done making it up to you, though. Is that okay?”

Exhaling, you nod quickly. “Fuck yeah,” you say, struggling to think. “Oh.”

He slips two fingers into you, your eager walls parting and welcoming him in. Tom removes his mouth from your heat and replaces his tongue with the pad of a thumb, and when you release a loud noise of strangled enjoyment, he begins to crook his fingers into you. He strokes his digits against your walls with poise and elegance, nudging up against your g-spot and stroking, again and again, chasing the noises you release.

“So pretty,” he coos. “My pretty baby. Making all those beautiful noises.” Tom smiles almost proudly. His chin is wet with your arousal. “I love your cunt… Look at how well it's taking me.” To prove his point, he feeds a third finger alongside the others. “So greedy for me, eh? Greedy little pussy. So hot. So wet. God…”

Tom drops his head again, disappearing from your sight of vision. You moan, body jerking as you feel his tongue move around his fingers, catching the arousal that seeps from your pussy as he works you open. He releases an obscene moan before dragging his mouth to your clit, stimulating you with his hands and tongue in tandem.

“Holy fuck,” you whimper. You feel hot in the best way, your skin becoming sweaty as you writhe over the leather seat. “Feels so good, Tommy.” It feels like heaven—especially when he bends his fingers and the tips of them stroke up against your sensitive spot. “‘M gonna cum again.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

Tom chuckles. “I’m so good at this,” he murmurs. “Go on, angel. Don’t hold back on my account… You’re so pretty when you cum.”

The tide breaks, and your climax rolls across you, legs trembling as Tom holds you in place. You writhe as you bask in the heat, your knuckles losing blood as you clench your hands into hard fists. The press of your nails against the soft flesh of your palms hurts, but you don’t care. It feels far too good to think about anything beyond Tom.

You ride it out, and Tom eventually draws his face away from your clit. He kisses along your inner thighs as you gasp for air, only removing his fingers when you start to whimper. As good as the climaxes have felt, panting for breath on the backseat, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough by far.

“Get up here,” you say breathlessly.

Tom chuckles as he appears from between your legs. He gives your thighs a little tap before he closes your legs, wriggling out of the footwell as you sit up. Easily, like you’ve done a thousand times before, you swing a leg over Tom’s lap, straddling him when he sits with his back against the car seat.

“Are you okay up there?” he checks, bringing his clean hand to rest on the curve of your stomach. When you nod, his brown eyes darken. “Perfect…” he hums. “Clean off my fingers, will you?”

You nod, opening your mouth expectantly and moaning as Tom slips three of his fingers between your lips. Fighting your smirk, you maintain eye contact with him, your pride swelling as you see his cheeks darken. He gently fucks his fingers into your mouth, making you moan at the movements and the taste of your heat as it spreads across your tongue. He’s messy with it, and you feel your lips and chin grow heavy from spittle.

“Pretty,” he coos, “so, so pretty.”

Tom goes to move his fingers from your mouth, only for a detail to make you pause. Eyes straining, you reach up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in place just as his fingers pull away from your lips.

“What’s this?” you query, narrowing your eyes. You drag Tom’s left hand nearer your face, gasping softly as you take note of a new tattoo resting at the bottom of his ring finger.

“Oh.” Tom shifts around slightly, biting at his lower lip. “I got your initials tattooed… When we get married, the ring will cover them, but I wanted you with me—I want you with me—all the time, even without a bit of metal.” He hesitates. “Is that okay?”

You press a delicate kiss across the letters. “Yes,” you say. You feel shy as you meet the eyes of the man who loves you so immensely. “That’s really, really sweet, Tom.” You bite your lip as you look up at him. “Gone soft on me, baby?”

“‘M always soft on you,” he says gruffly, guiding a hand to your face. He brings you closer, encouraging you to lean higher on your knees. “Love of my life, angel. You know that… My wife.”

You shift on his lap, smiling bashfully. “I’m not your wife yet.”

“Soon, soon, soon,” he whispers.

Both of you come together, no words needing to be exchanged for you to know what to do. Tom loses his clothes as you sit up a little straighter, one of your hands curling around the headrest of a seat as Tom angles himself slightly. With the rise of your bump between you, you aren’t able to be flushed together like times before, but the man beneath you is quick to readjust so he’s laying further back, giving you plenty of room to move in a way that’s comfortable. He kisses over your knuckles as you run his hard cock through your slit, his interested eyes fixed firmly on the sight of his length as you finally begin to move down.

The moment the head of his cock pushes into you feels indescribable. The ache of the stretch falls away as relief pours over you, the closeness satisfying far more than just your arousal.

“Gentle, gentle,” Tom murmurs, hand resting on your belly. “Be careful.”

You chuckle, beginning to move but only slowly. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it won’t hurt them.” Your eyes roll back slightly as you bring your hand down to rest on Tom’s shoulder, moaning quietly. “You can move too… Please, move.”

“Okay, darling.” Tom gently starts to move his hips. He groans as he slumps back against the seat, beautiful face coloured light pink. You’d missed the expressions he makes, how emotive the slants of his features can be. His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses as you ride him, your cunt so wet the movements are almost effortless. “That feels… so good.” His voice is hollow, gutless. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about you. You, and your hot cunt.” He moans again, unable to sit around the words. Tom ruts into you a little harder, guiding you to move faster with the hand on your hip. “Taking me so well, darling. So fucking well. I’m not going to last at all.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t either.”

Tom manages a lazy smirk. He opens his eyes as he brings a hand to your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with his thumb. You jerk a little at the stimulation but start to ease into it, basking in the pleasure from the bud and Tom’s cock. He’s buried deep within you, pressing your walls apart, the curved tip of his head brushing deeper than you’ve felt in months.

“So tight,” he murmurs. Tom leans back, clearly enjoying the sight of you riding him. “My darling. You look so beautiful like this… I swear your tits are bigger, too.” The hand on your belly gently caresses the bump, Tom’s tongue briefly wandering out to wet his lower lip. “Look at how beautiful you are… I can’t wait to knock you up again.”

Stifling a moan, it takes everything in you to focus on your movements. “You feel so good, Tom,” you whimper, unable to hold back the praise he loves to hear. “I missed this so much.”

“I know, baby. I missed this too… Come on, now.” His voice hardens slightly. “I’m about to cum, but I don’t want to unless you’re right here beside me. So… will you be a good girl and finish with me? Please?”

Heat flushes through your system as you bounce your head quickly. Your eyes close, breath hitching as you feel your climax rise. It starts in the pit of your stomach, a coil pulling tighter and tighter until it bends and snaps, bursting wide and spilling pleasure across your body in warm waves of enjoyment. You cry out as you fall apart, holding Tom’s shoulder tightly as his hand clamps around your waist. You feel him mirror you, hear his loud groan as his cock pulses inside you, your movements unceasing as you ride it out together.

It ends, but you stay joined. Tom sits up, the distance put between you by your belly requiring him to stretch closer and seize your lips in a smouldering kiss. His hand returns to your cheek, yours to his, and the look in his eyes is dizzying.

“I love you so much,” he speaks, words soft like a promise. “Everything I do from here on out is for you, and…” He glances back at your stomach. “And our child.” Words thickening, you see Tom’s eyes well with tears again. He chuckles, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” he adds. “I get a bit choked up thinking about it.”

You stroke your fingers over the back of his hair, spiky strands smooth against your hand. “Don’t apologise for expressing your emotions, baby,” you whisper. “It’s been a very long day.”

Tom nods. “Love you,” he murmurs again. He nuzzles his head into the palm of your hand, his eyes closing.

“I love you too,” you say, words truer than they’ve ever been before. You bend down to kiss his forehead. “Do you want to go home now?”

He hums. “Y/N,” he whispers. Tom blinks up at you, eyes soft. He catches the palm of your hand with a few kisses as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m already home.”

Teeth grazing your lower lip, you hold back your smile as you marvel at how clichéd he’s become. You bend down and kiss him very gently. “Sap,” you murmur. “Love you, though.”

Tom pulls a face. He rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice—only love. “Love you too,” he says. “Yes, though,” he adds, “I would love to go home.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

finis

yay

that’s probably a wrap on mob!tom ! i don’t have any more fic ideas for him :( that being said, this was a lot of fun to write, and i really, really hope you liked it :D ik the theme isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you read it all, i love you very very much

please let me know if you have any thoughts!!

masterlist through the link in my bio <3

#tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #mob!tom x reader #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland smut #y/n #self insert #smut #mob!tomfic

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drakenology · 4 years ago

Text

Make Me. - Yuuji Itadori & Sukuna

summary: being the bratty little sub you are you push your boyfriend’s buttons until he makes you remember why you call him d*ddy.

warnings: smut! , mirror sex, dom!yuuji, sub!reader, bratty!reader, slapping, overstim, use of the word d*ddy in sexual context, male receiving oral, sukuna comin out to playyy, the sweetest aftercare ever 🥺, cussing of course and sukuna being mean (degradation)

author’s note: happy valentines day babies! I’m writing this as a gift for you guys as a thank you for your support and to celebrate valentines day! enjoy lovelies!

You have no idea why. No rhyme or reason how. But today, you awake in a very temperamental mood.

Poor Yuuji was just sleeping; snoring next to his beautiful, sweet and kind girlfriend. Well she was gone today. A bratty little snatch had arisen and it was about to become everybody’s problem. You were always such a good girl. Never started fights. Never really acted out. But today, you just felt like being the baddest you could be.

Yuuji being the perceptive boyfriend he is already knew you were being testy. He tried everything to make you feel a little better. He was so sweet; so caring and understanding. But you just would not budge.

“I have an idea. Let’s go out, hm? Get us some food? I know you’re hungry.” He coaxed, earning a nonchalant “whatever” from you. Yuuji just shrugged it off but the raging curse, Sukuna was in the back of his mind reeling him for letting you off so easy.

“You need to put that little brat in her place. If you keep allowing her to step all over you then I will take care of her.”

Yuuji just pushed his voice to the very back of his mind, hating having to punish you. Sukuna got a kick out it though; always urging Yuuji to hit you harder, fuck you faster. Even he himself found it absolutely tantalizing to see you submit yourself to him, completely helpless as he fucked you so hard that all you could do was lay there and take it. But still, hurting his precious baby was no easy feat. Fuck.

You and Yuuji spent rest of the day at the mall after you two ate; not a single conversation without ending in an argument. He was losing his patience with you, your bratty tendencies becoming such a pain in his side. What the hell was up with you?

You were walking through the mall with him, lazily holding his hand until you saw the biggest stuffed animal you’d ever seen. You wanted it; hell you needed that stuffie.

“Ooh! Look! Can I have it Yuuji? Please?” You pleaded, pointing at the stuffie through the display window.

“No, Y/N. We’re leaving. You got enough treats today.” He said.

“But I want it!” You persist.

“Drop it, Y/N. You’re really starting to get on my nerves. Let’s. Go.” Yuuji said sternly.

Your eye twitched in annoyance, ready to throw a fucking temper tantrum just because. You cross your arms and stand right in front of the store.

“Make me.” You tease, sticking out your tongue like a petulant child.

That’s it. You’ve done it. The straw that broke the camel’s back. Yuuji was livid at this point.

He raised his eyebrow and towered over your body, face close enough to kiss you.

“Oh I’ll fucking make you, alright.” He said, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the mall with enough force to scare you straight.

Yet still you test him, cussing and screaming at him to let you go all. The way. To the car. Yuuji stops and pins you against the car, your back facing him and the same arm he held now folded behind you.

“When we get in this car, you’d better be quiet the whole way home or else.” He hissed, nearing himself close to your ear.

“Or else what?” You persist, immediately regretting it when Yuuji lifted up your skirt and yanked your panties down.

“You just don’t know when to quit do you? Get in the fucking car.” He snarled, pushing you towards the car door as he stuffed your panties into his pocket.

You stumble, struggling to get the door open as your legs tremble in devilish excitement. God he was being so rough. Maybe this is what you needed all along. You crawl into the car, becoming meek as Yuuji gets in the driver’s seat and slams the door.

“You know how much trouble you’re in? Huh?” His deep voice echoing in your ears as you stare down at your thighs, not answering him. Yuuji let out an aggravated growl and grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

“Got nothing to say now, princess? You had so much mouth earlier. What happened?” He chuckled darkly, slipping his hand between your legs to palm at your already wet pussy.

“You like talking back to me, don’t you? You’re gonna fucking get it.” He says as his hand reaches down to choke you while the other stuffs one meesely finger inside your weeping hole. You’re stifling your noise, panting lightly as you try to grind up against his hand until he stops his movements completely.

He completely pulls away and says nothing, starting the car and driving away. Your whole body is hot and needy for Yuuji to fuck you or even toy with you just for a little.

Should you risk touching yourself without permission? Should you just be good for once? All your thoughts leave your mind as Yuuji slips his hand back between your legs, this time using two fingers. You gasp, shocked at his sudden move until you look up and see you’re at a red light.

It felt so good; Yuuji’s fingers hooked deliciously to find that spot he knows drives you insane, urging you to rub your clit for good measure. It was all too much, your legs trembling as your pussy drooled all over his hands and the seat of his car. Your eyes were locked onto Yuuji’s fingers, losing focus quickly as you start to come undone.

Then he stopped. The light was green and Yuuji pulled away from you to drive once more. He made sure to lick his fingers and laugh at your dissatisfied face.

“Oh come on, don’t give me that look. We’re almost home.” He teased, your eyes tearing up as he snatched your hands away from your puffy clit. You whimper and try rubbing your thighs together to relieve the ache between your legs but no dice. You needed him to get you off now, or else you might just go off the deep end.

As the drive home went on you dreaded every light signal; hoping he’d catch every greenlight so you’d calm down, get your barings. But of course you weren’t getting off that easy. The light just before your block just had to turn red.

You could feel Yuuji’s eyes burning a hole in the side of your head, trying to close your legs before he could attack your cunt again. Of course you’re over powered by his strong hands, your thighs now split apart for his every so desire. He’s using three fingers now, demanding you rub your clit for him as he fucked you with his fingers.

Your pussy emitted the dirtiest noises, Yuuji groaning as you moan and writhe in the passenger’s seat. Your eyes were at the back of your head, begging and pleading for him to let you cum only for him to chuckle and stop again. You sob pathetically, tears threatening to fall as Yuuji started driving again.

“Now you wanna cry. Heh. Pathetic.” He spat, his mean words burning as you shamefully become feral at his insult.

The car slowed, signaling you were finally home as you pulled your skirt down to get out. Yuuji climbed out of the car without a word and led you inside, the tension so thick you could cut it with a sword. He shut the front door with a slam, lifting you up and throwing you onto his shoulder as if he were carrying a sack potatoes.

“I hope completely showing your ass today was worth it ‘cause now I’m gonna fucking ruin you.” He said, walking to the bedroom with you hanging over his shoulder like a rag doll. He opened the door and kicked it closed, slamming you onto the bed.

He was so angry you could see it in his pretty eyes. So angry that Yuuji just wasn’t Yuuji anymore, Sukuna’s tattoos taking form on his face and body as he stood over your now shaking body.

“Finally. I’ve been waiting to bring you to your knees, brat.” Sukuna says, his face pulling the most intimidating smirk you’d ever seen.

Only once in a blue moon you act out so badly to the point Sukuna gets tired of seeing you be let off so easily and takes over Yuuji. In fact, he’s the reason you only act out once in a blue moon. Sukuna was rutheless. The way he fucks you should be down right outlawed. Your body was always incredibly sore when he was finished with you.

“I’m tired of toying with you. Get on your knees. Now.” He demands, motioning you onto the floor. You oblige, sitting on your legs as Sukuna pulls you towards him by your hair. He rips off his shirt in true Sukuna fashion and pulls out his massive, heavy dick; the sight nearly making you drool as it slaps against his stomach. Yuuji had a nice dick but Sukuna- oh boy. Sukuna only enhanced his size, girth and length along with some of the most devine veins you’ve ever had the pleasure to have inside you.

“Open.” He said, forcing his length down your throat as soon as you do. You gag around him, forgetting how fucking huge he was. Sukuna laughed as he watched you struggle to take him all in, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth as he fucked your mouth. Your cheeks hallow with every thrust, eyes clouding with tears as he forcefully bobbed your head onto his dick.

“That’s right, slut. Suck my fucking dick like a good little whore.”

You blink away your tears and look up at him, sticking your tongue out to lick the underside of his dick as you reach your hand down and rub clumsy circles on your sensitive bud. Sukuna cussed and yanked you off of his cock, slapping you as you gasp. The sting fades into a strange pleasure you hadn’t felt in so long, the sensation going straight to your pussy. You had to admit being hit in bed was so wrong but so fucking right. Though Yuuji could never bring himself to hit you, Sukuna had no problem.

“Who said you could touch yourself? You ask me permission first, do you under fucking stand?” He barked. Sukuna paused waiting for your answer, his hand still holding your hair as he forced you to keep your eyes locked on his.

You nod, out of breath and mind hazy as Sukuna yanks your head back to spit in your mouth.

“So good when you listen, slut. Bend over in front of the mirror. I want you to see how fucking pathetic you are.”

You do as you’re told, crawling on your hands and knees towards the large full body mirror you convinced Yuuji to buy one day at the mall. Who knew you’d eventually be fucked in front of it? Sukuna made sure to say every demeaning and degrading word to you as he walked behind you while you crawled, kneeling down behind you once you get to the mirror.

Sukuna made his dominating presence known as he slapped his dick against your pussy, watching you flinch at his sheer girth. Sukuna grabbed your hair and pulled you up to face the mirror.

“Look at yourself. Such a fucking whore for us, hm? I think you owe us an apology.” Sukuna said rubbing the head of his dick against your needy pussy. You stutter, moaning as he prods himself at your entrance, Sukuna not moving a single muscle until he hears you beg for him.

“I-I-‘m sorry.” You breath out, Sukuna striking your ass hard in protest.

“Not good enough. Say it like you mean it.” He demands, his grip on your hair tight as he pushed himself just barely inside.

“Fuck! I-I said I’m sorry. Please, daddy. I need you. I’ll be good I promise.” You whimper, a sharp gasp leaving your mouth as Sukuna sunk himself deep inside you.

Your eyes lock onto Sukuna’s body in the reflection of the mirror, the tattoos all over his muscular body accenting his lightly tanned skin. Pink hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, eyes locked downward towards where you connected. You watched as his body rutted inside you with brute force. He was truly the most gorgeous thing walking. Even if he was inherently evil, the way he fucked you as if you meant nothing more to him than a cheap fuck was sickeningly addictive.

You’re a mess, panting and wailing filthy words as Sukuna fucked you with one leg propped up and the other kneeled on your side. He’s mumbling about how worthless you are, only fucking you this way because Yuuji just can’t do it without his help. Every long, deep thrust of his veiny cock sent your body ablaze; your orgasm violently approaching as you cry out for more.

“God, look at you. Crying for my dick. So pathetic.” Sukuna says clearly, the feeling of your pussy alone not enough to completely break him. He is a curse after all. Still, he sees why Yuuji loves you so much. If he had more control over his vessel, he’d be fucking you like this every night.

“G-Gonna cum, daddy! Please, please, please.” You gasp, digging your nails into the rug as he rocks his hips into you; harshly bumping his cockhead into your cervix. You inhale sharply, pain and pleasure mixing as your eyes flash white.

“I guess you can cum. Go on then. This body can’t last for shit anyway.” Sukuna shrugs, a little disappointed his time was almost up. Yuuji was fighting him for control over his body and Sukuna was losing his grip, his tattoos fading as Yuuji returned to finish the job.

You don’t notice the switch, your body stuck to the floor as your orgasm tears through your core. One final thrust and Yuuji was coating your insides with his cum, fucking it inside you with loud grunts as he smacked your ass one last time. You both sit there for a moment, your highs crashing down as you’re both out of breath and drained.

“Hey.” Yuuji said, only getting a weak “hm?” from your fucked out body.

“Was he too rough with you? I saw him hit you. I-I’m sorry I didn’t stop him.” Itadori explained, rubbing softly on your bruised ass, a huge hand print embedded into your left ass cheek. “God, you’re all bruised up. Stop being so bad, you hear me?”

“Y-Yuuji. ‘S okay.. I liked it.” You slur, words muffled slightly since your face was buried into the floor. Yuuji laughed nervously, pulling himself out of you; simultaneously whimpering with you at the feeling.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” Yuuji said, scooping you up off the floor and taking you to the bathroom. You smile into his shoulder, his strength still a shock to you as he effortlessly sat you on the edge of the bathtub. He said nothing, instead kissing every mark and bruise Sukuna left on your body as he drew your bath.

“I’m sorry I was such a brat today.” You say weakly, stepping into the water once it’s ready, grabbing Yuuji’s hand to get him to get in with you.

“Oh I know you are. I heard you apologize. Ah~ I said I’m sorry!” He mocked, laughing when you splash him with the bath water. He sat behind you, running the warm water down your bare back and grinning as you sigh and relax.

“Love you, Yuuji.” You say, leaning into his chest closing your eyes.

“I love you more, love bug.” Yuuji smirked, kissing your forehead as he continued to wash you up.

#jujutsu kaisen #yuuji itadori #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori headcanons #itadori smut #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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sylverstorms · 4 years ago

Text

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Your quiet days in castle Dimitrescu met their end the moment Cassandra took an interest in you.

You should have known. Perhaps you did know and just didn’t want to admit it.

The woman –vampire, mutant, what even are they— is a bipolar sadist.

One night she may be walking down the halls sending you a sexy wink under her hood as she passes you by, the next she could show up out of nowhere and cut you ‘hello’ with her sickle, scoop up the blood with her thumb to taste, then disappear again. The evening after that, she may not even give a damn about you, may not spare you a single fleeting glance, like even the notion you could be worth her time is laughable.

And it is, isn’t it.

Humans are nothing to them. Your significance is below that of a pet. You may as well be livestock. It doesn’t matter, though, so long as you continue to breathe and remain intact. They’re the two essential factors to escaping. All else is secondary.

It doesn’t matter how Cassandra views you.

You don’t even like her.

What is there to even be drawn to? She’s covered in blood more often than not. The scent of iron usually drowns out her perfume. She’s capricious and cruel and the living personification of an unsheathed knife. You prefer your routes safer. Playful, creative pretty girls that are good for you and most importantly, sane.

Whatever weird tricks your brain and hormones are playing where she stars –you hate it, what is wrong with you— they’re just delusions, you reason, born from her questionable flirting and your time in captivity. It’s just a really bothersome case of Stockholm Syndrome you’re developing. And it has to stop.

Another week passes. You don’t see her.

You are on another night shift when you hear the telltale buzzing of insects down the corridor. Hervoice reaches your ear afterwards;

“Ugh, Bela, you never complain about anything. It’s so annoying.” Two pairs of heels steadily tap towards you.

“I leave it to you and Dani to cover for me, since you complain about everything.” The quieter sister drawls. You can easily picture her roll her eyes as she says it.

“You know, you really should sound more thankful I came with you in this unearthly cold.”

“I gave you the option not to—”

“Just to have you rummage through that bookshop for what was definitely the most boring twenty minutes of my life.” Cassandra continues.

From the fleeting glance you steal at them, the entirety of her attention is on Bela. You don’t think she’ll notice you as you continue polishing the corridor’s decorations. It’s just another one of these nights where you don’t exist and you’re deeply glad for it. Not just for yourself, but also the other maids.

“I thought I was going to die of frostbite.” she growls, shaking the elder sister’s arm.

“Technically, you can’t.” Bela shakes hers back.

It would be… cute, if they were any normal family. But you are quick to remind yourself of what they really are. Devils in human form. Monsters that took you from your home and trapped you here, to clean after their mess, with the threat of death looming over your head every second.

Their steps pass you by. You can almost breathe normally again, when—

Cassandra stops.

“Not even going to tell me hello?” The hurt in her voice can’t be genuine, you tell yourself as you turn around to face her. She’s closer than you thought, enough for you to be able to make out the tiny melting snowflakes caught in her long lashes.

“Um—hello.” you say, awkwardly.

“Cassandra.” Bela lets out a soft sigh.

“Bye, Bela.” The brunette pointedly speaks over her shoulder.

And to your horror… “Just keep in mind what mother said about the maids.” the eldest sister leaves you alone with her.

Each further step until the blonde disappears from view fills you with dread. Cassandra has that spark in her eye that you’ve learned to not associate with anything good. She’s completely still until she’s sure the two of you won’t be overheard or interrupted.

Then, she moves.

Her hands all too easily shove you against the wall. It’s more startling than painful, you realize, when your back doesn’t protest much at the collision.

Cassandra maintains eye contact with you as she tugs at the fingers of her gloves. You cannot fathom why it looks that sexy, the way she pulls them off, whether it is intentional or not.

“Plaything.” she says. Another new nickname for you. Not that you ever expected her to care to know your name. “I’m terribly cold.” she doesn’t seem to be lying, though the soft pout that curves her mouth is surely for effect.

It’s a test and your wellbeing depends on it.

Only, you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. Ruling your nerves under control, you decide to start slow. “Shall I light the fireplace in your room, my lady?”

“Maybe I want something more… immediate.” she replies, raising her hand to your neck.

The second her freezing skin touches your flesh, you cannot help but flinch. It feels like a slightly softer block of ice. Cassandra’s eyes creak at the corners. Of course, the sadist is enjoying your torment. Slowly, her fingers move under the collar of your black button-up shirt, which only makes it worse. The cold spreads, a peculiar tingle at your stomach with it.

“Well?” she asks. You get the memo that just sitting back and letting her have her way isn’t going to work, this time. You call upon all the willpower you possess and act.

Carefully, your hands rise to meet her own. You aren’t looking at her in the eyes –you don’t think you could— as your fingers wrap around hers and bring them in front of you, close to your body, warmed from hours of work. Instead, your gaze locks on the golden jewel decorating the chocker at her throat, before falling down, to your point of contact.

It is not the first time you see her hands without gloves on, but it only now hits you just how dainty they look. Her nails, filed round, are dyed a darker shade of crimson, stark against the white of her skin. There isn’t a single blemish or uneven spot you can feel on her palm. It is a princess’ hand you seem to be holding, not a killer’s.

But appearances can be deceiving.

The very corner of Cassandra’s lip curls up, amused or pleased or both. She then reaches forward, at the lowest clasped button of your shirt… and frees it open. You’re sure you aren’t breathing. Two more buttons are released. Her fingers, at least now considerably warmer, splay against your stomach. Something inside you quivers like a flickering candlefire.

You don’t want her touch.

But a traitorous, weak part of you has already decided that it does.

“You work out?” it is merely a whisper between you. She presses a little closer, entirely unashamed to be feeling the contours of your middle up while you’re burning with embarrassment.

“…probably the days of working in the fields.” you say, voice low because it cannot be trusted any higher. She’s doing a little thing with her thumb over your skin that you desperately want to deny turns you on.

Thanks to her you’re now freezing and burning at the same time.

Cassandra just stays like that for a few more seconds.

“Draw me a hot bath.” she eventually orders and extracts herself from you as if she’s not remotely happy with her own decision.

You don’t really know how she likes her bath and she doesn’t tell you.

All you can do as you test the water on your hand is pray. Your mind isn’t really working right after the touching at the hallway, but your survival instincts are strong still. Strong enough to remind you that Cassandra likes to be treated like royalty above all, so bubbles are your best friend in this. The more, the merrier.

The Dimitrescu daughter does not ask if the bath is ready when she comes in. You aren’t used to her being so silent, so you turn to see if something is wrong –but immediately regret it when the heavy robe clinging to her body drops down. The only glimpse you catch is of the fabric pooling at her feet like a shadow.

Your eyes stay glued on the queen-sized bathtub, even when she approaches. They turn to the side as she enters it.

You want to ask if the water is fine, but you can’t find your voice. You lose even your train of thought when she lets out a small hiss as she sinks in, replaced by a moan once she’s completely settled back, neck tilted and eyes closed in bliss. The polite thing is to let her bathe in peace, so you move to do just that.

Cassandra has other plans.

Her hand shoots out of the tub to wrap around your wrist, inescapable as an iron shackle. Those intense yellowish eyes are on you again and they seem to be glowing under the dim lights.

“No.” she says. “Massage. Now.”

Ah, great. You think. You’ve spoiled her. But if giving Cassandra massages is what is going to keep your hands attached to your body, you won’t complain. It’s just that… you can’t really focus right now. None of your thoughts are right or remotely what they should be. You need time off from her, rather than touching her.

Thankfully, the moans are kept to a minimum and there is no teasing. She is utterly relaxed, only giving the occasional command for higher or lower. It does kind of kill you when at one point she whispers “Right there.” but you are able to move past it.

You leave fresh towels beside her when you’re finally allowed to leave. Back in her bedroom, you light the fireplace in a way that you make sure will last through the day, while she’ll be asleep. The plan is to leave before she returns, but she’s already there by the time you’re finished with the preparations.

And –you’re trapped.

Because, again, she’s changing and you have to look away to preserve your sanity and probably your eyes. “No peeping, now.” she calls over her shoulder. You know better than to dare.

You keep your hands busy arranging bottles and boxes at her vanity until she’s done. Cassandra does that ‘flashing’ thing where she’s on one side of the room one moment and right behind you the next. You only then notice a little insect flying back into her form. It was spying on you.

“You didn’t even look near me, huh.” she says it like ‘congratulations, you passed’, but there’s a bitter undertone of disappointment in her voice.

She’s only feeling down that you didn’t give her an excuse to slice at your face, you think. Then again, does she really need one?

“I wouldn’t, my lady.” you assure. “If I may be excused—”

“Did I say you can go?” she turns you around, none-too-gently, her hands on your biceps tight. You’re effectively pinned against her and the vanity, but you have much bigger problems to worry about, when you take in what she’s wearing.

Cassandra is clad in a flimsy nightrobe that leaves little to the imagination, the fabric nearly see-through. You can see the edges of her lacy underwear underneath it, how nicely it sits against her perfect curves. To make matters even worse, the robe ends at about mid-thigh and your eye catches the expanse of creamy skin on display.

Your brain nearly melts.

“I don’t know what it is about you, plaything, but you’re working up my appetite.” she confesses, pressing into you, pressing you harder into the furniture. You try to think of literally anything else than how well her thigh is slotted between your legs.

If you’re supposed to look away from her lidded eyes, however, you can’t. And if you’re not supposed to feel the echo of her nails on your arm all the way down to your center, you can’t. You are definitely not supposed to be so achingly curious about her bow-shaped lips. But you just can’t.

“You’re working me up.” she breathes, so close you can feel the ghost of her lower lip on yours.

And then –her mouth is on you and you forget how to breathe. Your eyes close and just feel, instead. If this is how you die, maybe it isn’t such a bad way to go. It’s been too long since you kissed anyone, seems like ages ago now, but you gradually remember how to move once you allow your muscles to unlock.

Not looking at her makes it easier. Her lips are balmy and smooth and slide so good on your own you can’t think at all, much less of what she’s capable of. You would have guessed her to be aggressive, but Cassandra is oddly hesitant, the only thing hard about her being her grip.

You’re not sure what you’re doing or how you get so bold, but your hands trail up to her waist and pull her in. The little hitch in her breath threatens to break you. It provides the perfect opening to part her lips with your tongue. As soon as it touches hers, she moans low in her throat and slowly drags her hips against your thigh.

Oh. God.

There’s a hollow ache in your stomach. You’re shamefully wet for her. The voice of reason is mute in your head, until you’re forced to break your liplock to breathe and it only then hits you what you’ve just done.

Cassandra’s lips are insistent on your jawline, on the vulnerable spot under your ear. Her open-mouthed kisses are just hard enough, at first, but then start to border on painful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel the press of teeth, yet she rips herself off of you before she bites down.

“Ugh. I’m… so thirsty.” she says it lightly, but her voice is hoarse and something about her body language gives you the impression she’s hurting. “You should leave. Fast.”

You almost make the mistake of reaching for her. Almost.

Cassandra turns away from the temptation of your veins.

For both your sakes –mostly for yours— you hurry out of her room and never stop to look back.

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #fanfiction #she's so flirty in game I love her #playful vampire sadist princess of my heart #and Bela's just plain a boss and a bae too

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years ago

Text

Never Back Down

Warnings: the usual - tickling, fluff

Word count: 2500

Ok, I know I just posted like 2 days ago, but this idea started plaguing me on my drive home from work today and I had to just get it written out on (virtual) paper. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

You don’t back down easily. Certainly not from a prank war. Especially when it meant you had captured the attention of a certain Asgardian.

Admittedly, you had been the one to start it. Although, you had good reason – Loki had been teasing you incessantly that day, doing everything in his power just to push your buttons. So, naturally, you did what any self-respecting Avenger would do, and stole his ‘secret’ stash of chocolate from his room when he wasn’t looking. It’s not like you ate it or anything (well, maybe just one… or two…) but it was still enough to poke the bear. Loki, of course, knew exactly who had taken it the moment he noticed it was missing.

The chocolate had disappeared from your room by the next morning. Along with every pair of shoes you owned.

It took much longer than you’d have liked to admit to track down all of your shoes hidden around the compound. You knew you had to step up your game. So that evening, you pulled the classic ‘hair dye in the shampoo bottle’ trick (temporary, of course). The look you received from the now green-haired god the next morning could have shattered glass, but you still couldn’t help but snicker at him.

You made sure you were cautious the rest of that day, knowing he would likely retaliate. Before showering that evening, you double and triple-checked the color of the soap and shampoo before using it to make sure there wasn’t anything unusual about it. You even ordered take-out for dinner; afraid he might try to tamper with your food if you tried to cook something.

Nothing happened. Which only made you more suspicious about what the trickster was planning.

You found out the next morning, when you went to exit your bedroom and suddenly were knocked backward onto the floor as your face struck an invisible barrier. Plastic wrap. Clever. As revenge, you slipped hot sauce into his morning coffee. Needless to say, he didn’t appreciate it.

At this point, you weren’t sure who was winning. The most likely answer was really neither of you, but you figured you should probably be on your toes anyway assuming he would probably be plotting vengeance after this morning. Luckily, there was a mission briefing that afternoon; you figured at least he wouldn’t be bold enough to try to pull something in front of an entire room of Avengers. Or, at least, you hoped.

Tony was having renovations done on your usual conference room, so the briefing had been moved to one of the smaller meeting rooms on the second floor. You were running late, having gotten lost trying to find your way to the new meeting location, and you were cursing yourself for it because you were really hoping to be assigned to this particular mission. By the time you located the room, everyone else had already arrived and taken their seats.

The room was much smaller than the conference room, with a few chairs surrounding a table in the center of the room and additional seating against the walls. You cringed when you saw the only remaining available seat was in the corner, directly next to Loki. He smirked when he noticed you in the doorway, patting the chair beside him as if being polite, but you knew him better by now. He had something planned, you were sure of it.

You quickly walked across the room, trying to minimize the time that you were blocking your teammates’ view of the front of the room where Steve was reviewing the mission location on a projector. Begrudgingly, you slouched down into the seat beside Loki and leaned against the wall.

“You’re late,” Loki leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“Shh! I want to hear about the mission. Steve was thinking of sending me this time,” you hissed, glaring at him.

Loki was silent for a few moments, so you turned your attention back to the front of the room. Steve now had some images up on the screen of the artifact the team would be responsible for retrieving, which had been stolen from one of the local museums. You wished you had thought to bring your notepad – you knew it would impress Steve if you were taking notes, and you really wanted to have the chance to prove yourself by going on this mission.

“He is insufferable to listen to.” Loki had leaned over again to whisper to you, his breath tickling your ear, and you reflexively shrugged your shoulder.

“Shh! Stop whispering!” you demanded.

“Shh! You should be listening,” he mocked, winking with a mischievous grin. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the front.

Another few moments went by when suddenly you felt something soft tickling the shell of your ear. You flinched and swatted your hand up to your ear, realizing Loki had taken a loose strand of your hair and had experimentally swiped it across your ear.

“Loki!” you whispered, your face heating up. “Cut it out!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, an expression of mock innocence on his face.

“You know what’s wrong. I’m trying to listen!”

“What is it? Are you… ticklish?” He emphasized his question by poking you swiftly in the side, causing you to jerk away from his touch.

“Loki… d-don’t get any ideas,” you warned, starting to get nervous. He scooted slightly closer to you in his chair.

“Hmm. Surely you must regret tampering with my coffee this morning, now, don’t you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, fixing your gaze on his. He snuck his hand up to your side out of your line of site and gently squeezed, making you jump. “Now, darling, you wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Y-you’re the one causing a scene!” you protested, glancing up to see if anyone had noticed this exchange yet. It seemed no one was the wiser to what was going on in your corner of the room, all watching Steve as he continued to provide intel for the upcoming mission.

While you were looking around the room, Loki slid his arm around your waist to attack your other side. You jolted again as you felt his fingertips gently scratching at both sides simultaneously, biting your tongue to keep from laughing. You refused to gratify Loki with a reaction, so you did your best to remain perfectly still as he continued to lightly trace your skin through your thin t-shirt. You could still see his smirk in your peripheral vision despite your attempt to focus on Steve’s briefing.

Gradually, Loki’s light touch became more of a gentle kneading of the soft skin of your sides. It was becoming more difficult not to move, and a reluctant smile started forcing itself across your face. You had to fight even harder as you felt his fingertips moving up your sides, moving agonizingly slowly, gently digging into the spaces between your lower ribs.

“Very good, pet,” Loki teased, his voice deep and smooth as he leaned close to your ear. You shuddered involuntarily, your face burning, flustering you in a way that only the god of mischief could. Unfortunately, Loki was perceptive, and noticed your sudden change in demeanor. His fingers crawled higher up your ribcage and it took everything you had not to let out a squeak. “It would seem that I’m not trying hard enough, wouldn’t it?”

“S-stop it!” you mumbled, leaning as far away from the god as you could with the wall on your other side holding you captive in your seat. He chuckled, low and deep in his throat, suddenly shifting the hand that wasn’t wrapped around you so he could flutter his fingertips against the back of your knee while continuing to torment your ribs with his other hand. You let out a nearly inaudible squeal, biting down on your knuckle in an effort to avoid laughing out loud. You were trembling now, trying desperately not to jerk away from his touch and draw attention to yourself.

“It’s unfortunate for you, really, that you’re so devastatingly ticklish. Tell me, darling – where are you more ticklish? Here?” He scribbled his fingers faster against the delicate skin on the underside of your knee, making you jolt your leg away from him, “Or here?” The slender fingers latched on your ribs squeezed more rapidly, and you arched your back slightly to evade his touch.

“I’m n-not telling you that!” you hissed.

“Alright, then.” The hand under your knee darted back up to your side, and in one swift motion he slipped his fingertips into the hollows under your arms. You couldn’t help but twist harshly, shaking in silent laughter as you leaned into him involuntarily. “I see I’ve found the answer.”

“I’ll be right back!” you announced suddenly, standing abruptly from your chair, and scurrying out of the room. You shut the door behind you and leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure. Your cheeks were still on fire and your heart was beating a mile a minute in your chest. If it weren’t for the fact that you actually wanted to pay attention during this meeting, this whole interaction with Loki might have been more enjoyable. His persistent teasing had you completely flustered, though, and while under normal circumstances it may have made you feel giddy, you knew you couldn’t let the team see you like this.

You needn’t have worried, though – the door to the meeting room opened again only moments after you’d left the room, and everyone filed out into the hall, chattering amongst themselves, none the wiser to anything that had been going on in the back corner of the room. Loki was the last to leave, trailing behind the others with a few extra feet of distance between himself and the rest of the team. You took advantage of this, quickly grabbing his arm and yanking him off to the side, slamming him up against the wall with your forearm pressed across his chest.

“Damn it, Loki! What the hell!” you growled, glaring at him, although admittedly with less fire in your eyes than he probably deserved.

“Do you admit defeat?” he asked, grinning.

“Wha- no! Of course not!” you retorted. “You fight dirty, Loki!”

“God of mischief, darling,” he responded proudly, snaking his hand under your arm, and digging his fingers into your uppermost ribs. You shrieked and released him from the wall, stumbling backward to escape the torturous tickles. He was too quick for you, grasping your wrist and spinning you around so he could pin you against the wall where he previously stood. After grappling with you for a moment, he managed to grab your other wrist and pin both arms behind your back in one hand, spidering the fingers of his other hand randomly up and down your side. You snorted, now able to laugh and squirm freely. You managed to twist enough to break his hold, spinning around and sweeping his legs out from underneath him with your foot. He fell to the floor, a shocked expression fleeting across his face as you knelt down beside him.

“You know, I’m willing to bet you’re only good at this from personal experience,” you noted with a smirk. Before he could react, you latched both hands on his sides and squeezed, praying for a reaction. He let out a strangled laugh, jerking away from your touch.

“Don’t!” he demanded, sounding somewhat frantic.

“Aha! I knew it!” you gloated, scribbling your fingers into every possible ticklish spot you could think of, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he overpowered you and escaped your hold. He started to giggle – actually giggle – thrashing violently to throw you off. His laughter made you even more flustered than you were before, never having seen the god in such a state.

“Eheheh – I DEMAND you stop this!”

“Sorry Loki, it’s pretty hard to take you seriously when you’re giggling like a schoolchild,” you teased, working your fingers down to his belly. Unfortunately, this caused him to jolt so hard he knocked you off of him, not having expected the sudden motion. In a flash, he had you pinned to the floor, hovering over you with his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“I-I am going to make you regret that,” he growled, his characteristic smirk returning as he resumed his tickle attack, his fingers darting across your skin, sending ticklish shocks through your nerves. He was agile, never staying in one spot for long enough for you to get used to the sensation before moving his torturous fingers somewhere else.

“L-LOKI! I CAHAHAN’T TAKE IHIHIHIT!!” you pleaded, pounding your feet against the floor in ticklish agony.

“You should have thought of this before crossing the god of mischief,” he retorted, pinning your legs down with his shin and pinching the skin just above your kneecap. Your abdominal muscles were too sore from laughter to even try to sit up and shove him off you. He slid his other hand under your knee to scratch at the sensitive skin there simultaneously.

“I YIELD! I YIELD! STAHAHAP!!” you begged, slapping the floor with your hand to tap out. Thankfully, he obeyed, releasing you so you could roll onto your side, holding your stomach as the last residual giggles bubbled from your lips.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you sat up and grinned at the trickster. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I just never pegged you as the ticklish type,” you observed. He folded his arms indignantly across his chest.

“I am not ticklish. That is a weakness that only plagues mortals such as yourself,” he insisted. A sneaky poke to his side told you otherwise, causing the Asgardian to jolt and let out a strangled yelp.

“Mmhmm. Ticklish.”

Loki stared you down for a moment, and you started to worry that he might attack you again for that comment. You were surprised when he held out his hand, offering to help you off the floor.

“Truce?”

“Truce? … What are the conditions?” you asked warily, staring at his outstretched hand as if it might try to bite you.

“You keep this little… incident to yourself, and I will stop pranking you. Provided you do the same.” You squinted at him, trying to assess the sincerity in his expression. Satisfied, you grasped his hand in yours and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

“Deal.” You shook his hand once to seal the deal. You both turned to walk down the hallway to catch up with the rest of the team.

“I shall warn you, though – I made no promises that you would be safe from tickles around me. It’s quite amusing, tormenting you. Almost… adorable.” You felt your face flush hot again.

“Well… I guess I won’t protest too much to that.”

#loki tickle #ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #tickle fic #marvel tickle

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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago

Text

The Empress (pt.V)

Emperor Vacation! Pog! Remember to drink water today lovely’s!

also if you squint hard enough you might see me simping for C!Philza.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death

The flight back to your village was long, it wasn't that you were in bad company, just after sitting so long you were extremely stiff. You could only shift positions so much before your butt, and legs were numb. So when Phil had mentioned seeing land, you were more than glad it was over.

Phil was right about having a extra cloak on too, the wind was horrible, not to mention the altitude you flew at was already freezing. Phil and Techno were smart on leaving when we did though as well. By the time we reached the village it was easily past noon. You were kind of giddy on showing Phil around your village. On the way up you and him discussed a bit about it, and your heritage. He was very open and interested when you explained how everything came to where it was today. Along with going home, you were also more excited to see and hug your parents. You could only imagine what your father would say about you working for a ruler.

When Phil and techno landed it was near the village, but also in a bit of a walking distance. Phil had made wind that he didn't want to land too close, and risk scaring anyone. After Phil had helped you out of the plane, all of you were stretching out. Especially Philza, he had made comments on how the plane's only down side was the confined space for his wings. When he let his wings span out you were awe struck. There were massive, easily wide enough to lift himself off the ground. The wings, although made for use, were oh so elegant. When Phil stretched you could see his figure better now. his wings spanning out wide behind him into the air, almost like a bird preparing flight. He wasn't in his normal Robes, instead he exchanged them for a simple black shirt that clung to his form. The arms were cut off, allowing you so see his fit arms. this didn't surprise you, the sword Phil always carried looked like it had a bit of weight to it. For being a father, Phil was very fit. Once his stretching was finished he took a light cloak from the plane and precisely wrapped it around his shoulders, minding his wings.

Well you two worked the numbness away techno had approached. He also was stretching. But simultaneously shedding a few of his layers. He casually tossed the cloaks and capes into your seat of Phil's plane. You did shed a few layers like Phil, but not as many as Tech.

"Are you sure you don't want something to block the sun? Sun burns suck" you said to techno. He unbuttoned the top two buttons to his shirt, before pulling his main braid out, changing the style for his ponytail.

"If I wear to many I might get heat stroke" He said simply, watching you. Without his mask he wasn't as menacing, but you definitely weren't used to seeing his face. you gazed at him with a perplexed look.

"Heat stroke?" You knew what it was, but you were a little confused. He chuckled lightly as Phil looked up to you two.

"My body runs hotter, princess" he crossed his arms, relaxing into his stance. You flushed at his words again. Glancing away to avoid his eye contact. ’fuckin’ hell there he goes again’ His tone was casual, but he was obviously still in his teasing mood.

"Since Tech is part Piglin his body is always warmer than you or I, that's why sometimes he just walks around in the snow without freezin'" You looked up to Phil and nodded. It made sense, you will admit, sometimes you forget that techno isn't fully human. When you think of Piglins you usually think of a gold obsessed beast. But Techno carried himself with elegance and pride. Yes he adorned himself in gold, but that was part of who he was. He had a right to be proud of it.

You started towards your village with the two. As if a unsaid agreement occurred they made you walk between them, walking like your own personal body guards. Techno strolled on your right well Phil kept close on your left. When you saw the children playing outside you smiled brightly. You missed this. The sound of children's laughter carried around like ringing bells. Sweet and ever so innocent.

As you walked into town. Some of the older kids ran up to hug you, jumping into your arms without hesitation. You without a thought picked them up and spun them about in your arms. These were your friends. Your community was small so everyone was close. Phil and techno respected this and just quietly stepped aside to give you the moment. Soon some of the other towns people had stepped out to see what all the commotion was about. Your mother included.

When she saw you her eyes lit up with love. She couldn't help but grab her skirt and run to you. Hugging you tightly to her chest, almost knocking you off your feet. Her tears of joy could be felt on your shoulder as you held her tight. Your nose buried into her neck, you missed this. You missed her. You missed the village. Everything just made you beyond happy at this moment. everywhere you looked there were smiles, wide and contagious. Soon you herd a quiet voice. Your father. When you looked up it was your turn to tear. he was hobbling over to you, his arms wide. You smiled widely hugging him tightly, but carefully. You didn't want to hurt him.

"I did it.. I did it- I did it!" You were so ecstatic. Your father put his hand on the back of your head gently well he hugged you. You were his little girl, and he was beaming with pride for you.

"I'm so proud of you.." He was tearing. He was proud of you. So very proud of you. He was even happier to see you back home safely too. He pulled back, taking a moment to take you in, you looked a tad different from your trip. not in a bad way, just a little different. Your fathers eyes moved from you, to Techno and Phil. "I assume these two are with you?" Your father asked. He was mostly summing Tp techno, you assumed because he was basically a year older than you. Phil sent your father a kind smile and nodded.

"Oh! Mhm! Sorry, I forgot to introduce them. This is Philza, and his Imperial Highness Technoblade." Your fathers eyes widened. When he realize was in the presence of royalty, he tried to go to his knee to bow. Techno quickly grabbed his arms in turn. Sopping him from doing so.

"Please.. (y/n) told us of your pain. I couldn't ask formalities from you, sir" your father was speechless. He could only look at Techno with awe. Techno helped him stand properly. Only letting him go when he safely had himself steadied. Your mother chimed in.

"Would you like something to eat or drink perhaps?" She asked looking between your father, Phil and Techno.

After hearing the young emperor was in your house, the village was buzzing around trying to tidy up a little. Nestled inside your house however Techno and Phil were eating. You had ate, but also were packing a few more possessions that you held dear to you.

You knew that after today you would start your full time job as a blacksmith. In the beginning you were nervous. Everything you herd about there kingdom was terrifying. But after seeing who is in control you actually have felt very at ease with them. Wilbur was ever so kind, Phil treated you like an additional child of his, and Techno was something all in himself. You did find yourself thinking back to how he has taken up the nickname 'princess' for you. It made you blush obviously, but it was just how he said it that made you want to hear it again, and again. He could be so brooding and quite. But also find a way to joke and tease. Not only that, but just from what had happened outside your home. He didn't want your father hurting himself on his own account. It was the little things like that, that somehow just made your heart maybe skip a little faster.

Well you pondered Techno and his family, you didn't realize that he was leaning on your door way until he spoke up.

"Having troubles packing?" He asked. You couldn't help but jump. Turning to face him. His eyes were relaxed, along with his stance. He was just hanging about basically.

"Sorta" you said. Glancing him over. He slowly walked into your room and looked about curiously. Mentally you were thankful you cleaned before you left. Your room was small, your bed shoved against the wall, navy blankets resting on top of the mattress. Next to the bed there was a nightstand with the candle still half melted from the last use. Your dresser was across your bed, old and worn, it had been your grandmothers previously. Next to that was a little desk you and your dad had built. Your room wasn't much, but you could tell somehow techno didn't mind. "Its hard in a way..." He looked up at you. His eyes dancing between yours.

"How so?" He questioned as you sat on your bed. He took the que and leaned on your dresser. Respecting your space. He knew he wasn't familiar to you like Wilbur or phil. He did want to get to know you more, but he also didn't want to force you to befriend him.

"Well... I mean I've grown up here. All my life and memories are here... I know I can make more at the palace with you and your family." You smiled softly. "Wilbur already wants to teach me how to ice skate..." Techno smiled a little.

"I bet you'll fall" he mused. You laughed a bit. smiling down to the boards under your feet.

"I probably will.” you were smiling gently, It’s the little actions like this that made you happy to see the family for what they were. Rather then what the rumors had painted them as. “I dunno, I know I want to work for you. I know my parents will appreciate the money and-" at this Techno’s brow furrowed slightly before he cut you off.

"(Y/n) are you sure your doing this for yourself. Or for your parents?" The question took you aback briefly. Earning a slight head tilt. Techno pressed his lips, thinking of how to continue. "Are you working for me to make your parents happy. Or are you working because you will be happy?" You could only look at him with a blank look. He had a point there. "If your working to make your parents happy, you will be miserable the whole time your with us" He was watching your expression. Trying to read it for how you felt. You were kind of stumped. Techno had stepped closer. His boots were in front of yours. When you looked up he was right there. "I don't want to see you miserable well working" his gaze was gentle. He wasn't talking as a ruler, but rather as a friend. you understood too. If your hearts not in it, your work will never be as good. You paused a bit.

"I do want to work for you. Its.. what my heart is telling-" again he cut you off, leaving your mouth agape with the words of your sentence lingering.

"Your heart is a organ, it cant tell you what it wants" ok you wanted to hit him. He knew what you meant.

"I mean... my consciousness is telling me to go with you and Phil. I really like your guy's company. Your brother Wilbur Is a lot of fun too." You shrugged and looked down a bit. Techno moved again and slowly sat beside you, almost hesitant like he wasn't sure if he could. When he sat the bed dipped quite a bit. Not that he could help it. He was a built man. "Maybe its just telling me to go because your family is the closest thing I've had to genuine friends..." Techno's face contorted into a little confusion. Getting a 'heh?' Out of him.

"Don't tell me you've never had friends, princess" he said looking down at you.

You smiled a little. "I've had friends... but usually there years younger than me. Like four or five. Maybe seven. I mean friends closer to my age like you and Wilbur" techno hummed a bit. His cheeks a very faint pink.

"So you think of me as a friend now" his brow raised in question. his gaze was curious. not swaying to disgust, nor pure joy.

“I mean, if I can count you as one...” You said looking up to him. If someone would have walked in at this moment, they would have thought they disturbed a moment between the two teens. Techno was tall, but that didn't stop his head from lingering down by yours. Your Voice was softer almost unsure now. Techno didn't speak at first, his eyes only lingering your face. soon he hummed in response, standing slowly.

“Mmn... I mean. I guess you could.” his cheeks were tinted the faintest pink as he moved his fist to his mouth, clearing his throat. “yeah, yeah... I suppose were friends”

When you were fully packed you walked out from your room, Techno in tow. Your fathers eyes saw your form and lingered on the two of you. Your father wasn't born yesterday, something inside him knew that there was unspoken chemistry between Techno and you. He didn't mind that though. Well, ok maybe he did. You were his daughter after all.

“do you have everything you need?” your father asked, his tone softer when addressing you.

You nodded, slinging the bag over your shoulder. “I believe so, If not ill just have to come back” You smiled gently. Your father returned the smile. Phil looked up to Techno who was standing behind you, his arm’s crossed as he leaned on your door frame.

“We should probably leave soon if we want to make it to the Mansion by night fall, Techno” Techno offered a nod to his father. when looking at Phil he couldn't help notice how your fathered watched him. Techno did understand though, it was probably unnerving to know he would be sending his young daughter several miles away with a teenage boy. Of course Phil was present, but that was minor. Techno simply just returned a look to your father, not trying to be hostile, nor too passive. After all techno did have a name to keep up.

Your small group slowly moved outside to the street. you didn't notice, but your father had pulled Techno aside well you went with your mother and Phil. You hugged your mother tightly. wanting to savor the feeling of her hug. knowing it would be quite a while before you got another one.

“Promise me you’ll be safe (y/n)...” she said softly. you nodded slowly, nuzzling into her neck. you could feel the tears threatening to spill. You knew the goodbye wasn't forever, but that still didn't lessen the slight sadness. This was a new chapter in your life. you couldn't live your life on a single page. it was time to move on and see what else awaited in your story. when the two of you pulled away, your mother saw your tears and wiped your eyes gently. “Chin up, you’ll make a lovely smith, honey” you smiled softly, taking deep breaths to calm your tears. Soon Techno had returned back to Phil’s side after his talk with your father. You turned towards the two of them together and smiled at them. Techno offered you a nod well Phil smiled back at you.

“I'm going to miss you runnin’ around that forge” Your father said, he also had a few tears welled up in his eyes. “You better bust your butt down there and show em’ what your made of” You nodded at him, taking his words of courage to heart.

You hugged him tightly. Him returning the tight hug. “Ill miss you...” you muttered to him. keeping your face hidden in his neck. Your dad was your grounder, he was along your side the whole way. Starting the new chapter without him was hard, but you knew it was necessary. “I love you...”

“I love you too... Be safe for us...” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

By the time you reached France's countryside it was night already. Well in flight you had rested yourself on the side of your seat. Watching the ground fly past with incredible speed. Phil kept a keen eye on you to make sure you didn't fall. The last thing he wanted to do was have to turn around and explain to your parents that you fell to your death.

Techno and Phil made wind of wanting to find somewhere to set up camp for the night. Knowing they both shouldn't fly well tired. When they saw the mansion up ahead however, they lost there ideal for a camp. Instead they landed nearby and prepared themselves to enter. Rambling off about where to enter. You were quite unsure about this, after all this was someone’s home. As they went on about a plan you looked the mansion over. It was rather massive to be honest. The mansion, although big, was ever so detailed and beautiful. The owners took amazing care of the structure. Well your eyes scanned the side, you saw movement from one of the windows. this made you realized that there were things inside. they planned to raid a mansion that someone lived in. Your eyes wondered for more movement and that's when you saw it. A Pillager. You felt rage take hold of your chest.

"What are we doing here." Your voice was harsh, this caught Phil off guard. He wasn't used to hearing you take up such a tone. Phil and Techno swapped quick glances. Pondering if they should tell you about there plan. Ultimately Techno figured you should be included. Seeing that if this raid wad successful, your first task would be presented.

"Do you know what Pillagers are?" Techno inquired. He knew you did, but he meant his question beyond face value. He was quizzing to see if you where aware of their history.

"Yeah, heartless creatures that kill for fun" You hissed, not wanting to be near the mansion anymore. Techno watched your eyes. He could see the hate swirling within. To him this was intriguing to see you angry. Usually you were more quiet and docile.

"Pillagers are a branch of Illagers..” Techno started slowly “The Illagers were a old type of Cult that was formed for the sole purpose of Black Magic" His tone was slow and calculated, he wasn't talking down to you, rather just simply explaining. "They are known for dealing with Alchemy, and Witchcraft" his eyes glinted with something that you couldn't quite put your finger on. "They even have been Rumored to deal with Necromancy" You were a little confused now.

"What's Necromancy?" You inquired, your hate was leaving and slowly replacing with curiosity. Simultaneously, you didn't understand where this was leading.

"The ability to raise the dead." You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. You sent glances between the two of them. that's ridiculous, no one can raise the dead, it was impossible. Once you were dead, you were dead. You started getting uncomfortable with the way the conversation was leading. "It is rumored they have a Item that can bring those who have died back" Techno’s eyes never left yours.

"That's.. That's impossible..." You said quietly, watching Techno intently. His eyes glinted again, you weren't familiar with his side of him so it raised alarm within you. This wasn't the Techno that sat with you in your room. Nor the one that asked your father not to bow. This side of him was different, almost more daring, and challenging.

"Oh, but is it?" He paused briefly, His voice rose up now. Taking a tone of greatness. Turning to face the mansion. Soon expanding on his thought. "You see (y/n), sometimes rumors are so far fetched... That they just have to be real." You glanced to Phil who only watched Techno like you. "The item they have, rather a totem actually... Can indeed bring the dead back. But it has to be on the person upon there death. You cannot bring someone who is long gone, back" he said simply.

"How do you?..." you struggled to find your voice. “How do you know it’s true?” you asked no longer liking his tone. He turned back to face you, his emerald earring catching the moon light.

"Because I have tested it" He said, looking into your eyes. Once he saw your eyes and the emotion that swirled within them he paused. He swallowed thickly, pondering his thoughts briefly. "I want you to stay back with the planes..." His tone had softened, it was the same one he used to address his father nights ago. "You'll be safe with them..." He glanced away, no longer able to keep your gaze.

"We'll be back soon, I promise" Phil said, sending you a reassuring smile. the two of them turned and headed towards the entrance. there swords drawn, ready to counter what was inside.

You had been waiting for a while now. The sound of the forest was peaceful. You had missed the frogs croaking, well the crickets chirped a endless harmony. In the artic this wasn't a luxury, the land was so snow covered that not many bugs resided, if any. The only sound you could hear was a low whistle, or hum, which was only the wind really. The temperature had dropped well you sat waiting, causing you to rub your arms for warmth. You looked down into the cockpit looking for one of the cloaks left behind. You felt one of them and pulled it onto your shoulders, securing the clasps. The feeling of the fabric quickly warmed your arms. You laid your head back, pondering the look that Techno had in his explanation. The look he had was hard to explain, it’s almost like he wasn't himself. Like he had something else within him, fueling him, talking to him. You didn't know Techno deeply, but you had seen him for a few weeks now, his attitude then compared to now was different. It was unnerving to say the least.

Well pondering and listening to the casual hum of the woods, something caught your ear. You pushed yourself up so you were sitting. You could plain as day hear crying. But not just any crying, it was a Childs. You slowly climbed down from the cockpit. You know they told you to stay put, but you also couldn't just listen to a child cry. Your hand fell to the sword that hung on your hip. Slowly you started your descend into the woods, determined to find the source.

The woods were thick. Everywhere you looked there was a branch ready to swat at your head. Minding the branches, you were able to spot the small crying toddler. He was curled up tightly, his knees to his chest as he wept. He had dirt on him, his face stained with tears and mud. His red and white shirt was torn to hell. At the sight of him your heart hurt. He saw you and without hesitation he reached up, wanting you to pick him up.

"H-hey.. Shh.. sh.. your alright.. your safe.." Your tone was gentle as you carefully picked him up. Subconsciously your body started swaying without a spare thought. The boy did slowly quiet down. You glanced around and tucked the boy within the cloak next to you, wanting to keep him warm. You needed to find Techno and Phil, like. Right now. "I'm gonna h-help you ok bud?.." you could feel him nod his head against you. Gripping to your clothes tightly.

You tried to hurry back to the mansion, but luckily that wasn't hard to find due to the fact it was on fire. Wait why was it on fire. You now broke into a run, fearing that Phil and Techno were caught within it. But no, of course not. They were simply in front of the burning mass, watching the once beautiful mansion turn to ash.

"What the hell happened here?..." You drifted off as your eyes scanned the flames with wide shock. Phil turned to you and smiled.

"Oh there you are (y/n)- whatcha' got there?" He tilted his head seeing the bump underneath the cloak. Techno turned as well, blushing faintly when he saw you.

You stared up at the giant fire well approaching them. "I uh.. found him.." you pried your eyes from the train wreck in front of you, still not able to wrap your mind around this.

"What did you find?..." Techno asked trying to see beneath your cloak, that was actually his. But he didn't want to bring that up yet, finding you within it quite adorable.

You moved the cloak to show the toddler, Phil's wings puffed out a bit when he saw the child in your arms. Both of their eyes widening. "I wanted to bring him back to you... He was alone when I found him and I've never taken care of a toddler so..." You slowly handed the child to Phil. He didn't fuss much with being handed off. Instead he just buried his head in Phil's neck. As if on instinct he checked the child to make sure he was ok, no cuts, or bruising "I couldn't leave him out there..." you said chewing your lip. Phil only kept his eyes on the child. Pondering.

"No of course not.." Phil said slowly, looking down to the child. Rubbing his back. "Hey buddy.. do you have a name?.." Techno and you watched curiously. The toddler nodded. Sitting up to wipe his big round blue eyes.

"I'm Thomas.." His voice was rough, showing he had been crying a while.

"Its nice to meet you Thomas.. I'm Philza, and this is Technoblade, over here is (y/n). How old are you?" Phil asked slowly. Just like he would with his own boys. Tommy held up two tiny fingers, showing how old he was. "Your two? Wow your a big man, ya?" Tommy slowly nodded. "Do you know where your mom or dad is?" The boy shook his head and broke into a large sob. "Sshh.. don't worry.. we'll find them ok?" The small boy nodded through his cries, gripping to Phil.

After finding Tommy we checked every nearby village we could think of, but no one claimed the poor child. The longer he was with us, Phil started to grow very attached to the boy. Techno wasn't very surprised with this of course, and neither were you quite honestly. You knew he had adopted Techno on a whim from what Wilbur explained. That's why Phil popped into your brain when you found Tommy.

We ultimately decided to head home with Tommy. None of the villages we searched seemed to recognize tommy, so Phil figured it was the universe telling him that he has another child. Phil kept him on his lap most of the trip. Occasionally handing him to you or letting him ride with Techno, to whom your surprise, seemed to have a soft spot for children. Tommy found a lot of joy out of being in the plane with you three. You would bounce him on your lap when he was under your watch, letting him stretch out in joy. His little giggles rang out loud, bringing smiles to Phil's face. You did pull him into your arms securely when you reached the artic air however, mostly just to keep him warm.

When you arrived to the palace Wilbur was confused on your early arrival. He had expected you three to be gone for at least two, to three days. But when he saw the toddler he mostly summed up the early arrival. Phil didn't linger long on the hellos of being home. Instead he took tommy straight to the physician to make sure he wasn't sick at all. His parent sense buzzing in full drive.

Well waiting for Phil and tommy to show up again, Techno, Wil and you had found yourself comfortably in the library. You were extremely tired. But like Techno you were waiting to see Phil and Tommy first, before you made a run for your bed. The fire was lazily burning in front of you offering a warm wave of comfort. Your head started to roll from your sleepless state. Even Technoblade started to droop his head. Luckily Phil walked in with a happy tommy on his hip.

"The Physician says he’s all good health wise. nothing we should be concerned about thankfully" Phil said. Claiming his seat beside Techno. Tommy made his way into techno’s lap, interested with the earrings he had. Instead of telling him no, or swatting his hand away, Techno just took one of his earrings out. showing tommy the jewelry. The two of them were honestly were too adorable.

“Is he our new brother?” Wilbur asked, watching the curious two year old.

Tommy held all of your attentions, his actions were all done in innocence and curiosity. He was a cute kid, he had little Ringlet’s of blonde hair that matched Philza’s. “You think we can handle another mouth to feed?” Phil asked looking to Wilbur. Wil nodded in response. The idea of a younger brother exciting him. Phil looked back to Techno and Tommy.

Tommy was happily babbling off about things he thought were cool on Techno. Techno only sat with kind eyes and a soft smile, replying to tommy.

“I suppose I do have a new son now” Phil said, a kind smile dancing on his lips.

#techno x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #TE

513 notes · View notes

tastyykpop · 4 years ago

Text

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

•pairings: enemy, barista and student!jaemin x student and barista!reader

♡𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡♡

<next>

•warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming, crying kink, hair pulling, choking, small praising, small size kink, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification (sexual and non sexual use) nanas kinda mean :( but gets a lil nicer :), jaemin refers to himself as nana a lot mostly when they do the dirty, bulging kink, pet names (princess, baby, baby girl, little girl, pretty girl), unprotected sex (please be safe), slight face slapping (he slaps her once), rough sex clearly, some sexual tension, I hope i got everything

You were fuming!

The boy in front of you not even batting an eyelash, just laughing at the mess dripping down your face.

You smelt like an iced americano.

People around you held their hands to their mouths in shock and others tried to hold back their laughter. Some even pointed at you or gave sympathetic looks.

It wasnt like people were surprised anymore. Jaemin always had something up his sleeve for you. But he never went as far as pouring his coffee on you.

"Aw poor baby. Do you need a napkin?" He faked sympathy with a pout and his friends began laughing. You just got up and walk by them, making sure to bump into jaemins shoulder on your way through.

It was almost everyday that Jaemin would do something so uncalled for. It was like he was made to push your buttons. Even as you're walking out of the college building, you can still hear the boy laughing at you. Or maybe it was the other students. Either way, you wanted to kill him.

As you trudged towards your car, a sense of relief washed over you. A great happiness that only comes when you finished your classes and could go home. Only this happiness stayed for a good 2 hours until you have to go to your part time job at the cafe with your favorite person of course. But its not like you can quit. You need the money so you can live and get the education you need, no matter how hard it is being with him.

It was then when you sat in your car and the squishing in the seat made your face curl into a scowl, only made you think of ways to get away with murder. It was gross really. The seats were sticky, plus your hair and clothes were sticking to you like lip gloss. A shower would be perfect right about now.

"Hi y- oh..." Your roommate, jimin, stared at your messy state. Giving you a good up and down before shrugging his shoulders, "jaemin?"

You sighed, walking over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, "Who else? Its always him."

Jimin gave you a small smile and came closer as if ready to hug you but didn't because he didn't want to get sticky. "You know, maybe you should quit that job."

"No."

He groaned and snatched the water that you were about to sip, "Why? You'd only see jaemin in school. And you wouldnt have to stick with his bickering in work." He huffed, shaking his head, "Girls are so difficult sometimes."

You tried leaping up to grab the bottle from jimin, but all he did was hold it above his head. You stomped on his foot in return. Jimin huddled over and you snatched the bottle, smirking with victory as you put it to your lips.

"You fucking snake." Jimin hissed in pain.

A laugh fell from your lips as you walked by him, completely ignoring his words and his pain, "Im gonna take a shower."

Once you got to your room, the first thing you did was grab your work clothes, a towel, and underwear and got ready for the warm shower.

After you switched on the water and let it heat up, you stepped in and immediately felt at peace as the water cascaded over your body, cleaning off the almost dried coffee. Your hair felt lighter, like a feather and your fingers could now slip through the strands easily without an issue. The scent of your body wash overpowered the coffee smell and you felt much better. Water, soap, and coffee were beginning to fill the drain as you finished washing up. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the murky water. What a bastard.

For once you were actually happy to wear your work clothes after what had happened earlier. The clothes actually felt comfortable and jimin was becoming more and more confused as to why you were hugging yourself with a huge smile on the couch.

"No one should be that happy after a shower." He started flipping through channels on the t.v.

"Dont tell me how to feel, I dont smell like jaemins coffee anymore." You gushed overdramtically. Jimin could only role his eyes.

"Please...you act like he's a demon of some sort."

You squinted your eyes at jimin and flared your nostrils, "he is. Hes a nasty, dumb, annoying, self centered-"

"Okay okay I get it! You hate jaemin! The funny thing is you can never get his name out of your mouth." Everything stopped and your head snapped in jimins directions.

"What are you saying?" A frown found itself on your face, jimin leaned closer.

"Im saying that maybe you might like him."

You shrieked in disgust, blocking your ears with your hands. Jimin laughed at your reaction. Almost falling off the couch in the process. "Ew! Gross! Why would you even think that!"

"Like I said, you can never get his name out of your mouth. I think its pretty obvious you like him." He was still giggling at you except your face was anything but happy, more grossed out at how he thought you could like such a person

"I can't stand you. I'm leaving for work." You stood up and jimin did nothing to stop you from going. Even though you still had about 15 minutes until you normally leave. "Ill be back at 9." The door slammed behind you, leaving jimin alone with another laughing fit.

You got in the car and drove off to your work, still trying to come up with a reason as to why jimin is saying all this. Sure maybe you talk about jaemin a little lot but that doesn't mean you like him. Its very much the opposite and jimin should know that. It only frustrates you the more you think about it. Liking someone like jaemin? Please. That would be your nightmare.

As you pulled up to the cafe, there were only a few other cars parked. Few were from other workers but the majority were most like customers or people just trying to get a free parking space. Lucky for you, there were many open spaces, unlike when you come later and they're filled. Maybe leaving earlier wasnt such a bad idea. It saved you the 3 minute walk.

"Y/n! You're just on time!" One of your coworkers, irene, called out as you stepped inside the shop. "We need help back here!" You had no time to even begin to say your shift hasn't started yet when irene took you by the hand and dragged you to where the coffee was being made. "We have a bunch of online orders coming in so can you please help us with the coffee and food?" She tossed you a brown apron for you to put on and you nodded, trying to get your brain to speed up with everything in the world.

It was so quiet when you walked in that you never even realized that the back was busy. Coffee cups were filled and put into trays for orders, food was being heated or baked. It was a chaotic place right now and all you could do was help. So as fast as you could, you began with the first order on the screen. A large mocha with extra extra sugar, whipped cream, and chocolate curls. Easy enough you thought as you reached for a cup but a hand beat you to it.

Your eyes looked up at the person in front of you and just when you thought everything was going fine, it wasn't, "What are you doing here so early?" You asked bitterly.

"I always come in early. What are you doing here so early?" Jaemin asked whilst holding a death grip on the cup.

"Just felt like coming early." You muttered, watching as jaemin turned away with a scoff, quickly cutting the conversation short. "Bastard."

Jaemin was busy making what you were originally going to do, so you looked for another order to get ready. It was just two cake pops and a small strawberry banana smoothie. Something you've been craving recently from the lack of sweetness and fruit in your day to day life.

The cake pops and smoothie were quick to make and were soon sent off to the customer. You happily beamed and wished them good day once they left.

After then there was a familiar face with a friend right next to him, he was quite handsome you must say. He was indeed so handsome that he just looked unreal. "Hey jimin. Whose this?" You nodded towards the bright black haired man.

"This is taemin! He wanted some coffee so I brought him- hey stop staring at him!" Jimin snapped you out of your trance and taemin chuckled.

"Its okay shes cute." He eye smiled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. He's definitely not real.

Jimin tsk'd, "Until you get to know her."

"Yeah yeah... whatever." You smiled at him, completely oblivious to what he just said.

They both ordered and took a seat next to the window. You were still staring at taemin with your head in your hand until someone tapped your shoulder, "Who are they?" Jaemins voice rang in your ears, making you stand up straight.

"Thats my roommate, jimin, and his friend taemin." You glanced back at the boys, mainly at taemin and just stared like he was your first crush.

"Quit staring your gonna scare him away." Jaemin said earning himself a chuckle from you.

You stuck your tongue out, "He called me cute."

The boy smirked from ear to ear and leaned in close to your face, "He was lying." You grumbled and pushed him away from you, getting annoyed by his presence very quickly.

"Jaemin and y/n, get back to work we have orders to do!" Irene called out. Both of you quickly returning to your stations and getting things ready.

"Look at him. Hes basically waiting for me to come over to him." Seulgi, another person in this school you dispise, said as she looked at jaemin in the back of the room. She wasn't very quiet either considering you were only a few seats away from him. So it only meant that jaemin could hear her, but chose to ignore it. Typical boy.

"Honestly. He looks so good today too." Sana, her best friend, commented.

"Oh and did you hear what he was planning on doing today to y/n? Apparently he's gonna-"

"Class get back in your seats, we have much to discuss." The professor stood in the front of the class. Everyone shifted and moved to their appropriate places and waited for the teacher to begin. Unlike you, who was wondering what seulgi was going to say next. If its something worse than coffee being poured on your head, you may just have to bury yourself six feet under after this.

As you were taking notes something flung towards your head and hit you on the side, looking over was jaemin with a smirk was he held his fingers in a sling shot shape. A rubber band was laying on your lap. Then another one. One even hit your cheek creating a small smack sound as you winced in pain. Oh you desperately wanted to get out of this seat and punch the boy in the face.

"Excuse me sir!" You called out, raising your head. The whole class looked at you and your cheeks began to heat up. "May i go to the restroom?" The professor nodded and you headed out. Not until you stopped in your tracks from a loud smack to your butt, causing the whole class to turn around again.

Jaemin was enjoying this, the way you stared at him with wide eyes and open mouth, made him just want to do it again. He never thought this reaction from you would be so entertaining and he tried his best not show it, with only a small smirk covering his face.

You rushed out of the room, faster than ever and leaned against the nearest surface you could find. Not only were you questioning reality, but also why jaemin just did that.

"That little bitch." You said to yourself as you paced back and forth in the hallway, staring at the ground.

"Excuse me?" Jaemin voice rang in your ears as you looked up with a angry red face. Steam was even coming out of your ears and nose. "Did you just call nana a bitch?" He put his hands to his chest and pouted, "Little girl you need to learn some manners." Jaemin tilted his head to the side and began walking forward.

"Shut up." You had nothing else to say as you grit your teeth, looking at the ground.

Jaemin didnt like that and grabbed the back of your neck to make you look at him, "What? Did your stupid head stop thinking? Your normally so chatty for nana what happened?"

"Jaemin i-" you cut yourself off as you felt jaemin grip the back of your neck tighter causing you to moan in pain.

"Stupid girl." Jaemin whispered, forcefully pushing you away. It was not strong enough to make you fall but at least stumble.

You glowered, earning yourself a chuckle from him. "What will it take for you to leave me alone!?"

"Bring this to table 15 please! Thanks!" Irene smiled as she handed you a small cup of iced coffee and you took it, taking it to its designated place. What you didn't except was to see taemin again, gleaming up at you.

"Hi y/n." He smiled and you tried to remain calm.

God how is someone so beautiful?

"Hey, I didnt except you to come back." You returned the warm smile and started to play with the apron around your waist.

Taemin giggled, "I actually quite like this place, its cozy." He began to take a sip from the straw, eyes still trained on you. If only you weren't so awkward with him, you wouldve found something to say other than staring at him and indulging in the beauty before you. But lucky for you someone behind the counter called for you, quickly averting your attention back to work.

The next order was a shake, so you grabbed the correct ingredients and began using the blendor, when someone came next to you, doing the same thing "You seem like your having fun flirting around." The unwanted conversation with jaemin began, "makes nana kind of jealous."

"Hm funny." You ignored him and continued blending the ice cream.

Jaemin casually rolled his eyes and glanced down at your nonchalant face before returning back to the blender, "you know you really do piss me off."

You sneered and snickered to yourself, "what are you gonna do about it?"

"I was thinking of fucking you dumb or until you know your place but maybe thats a bit too rewarding."

The cup was removed and set aside from the blender with your hands placed on your hips, "Im sorry what?"

"Did I stutter?" Jaemin raised an eyebrow and also put the cup down. You went silent, not knowing whether or not to just laugh it off or quickly run away. "And I'm still waiting on my apology."

"One, I am not going to apologize to your bitchy ass. Two, even if I did let you, you could never 'fuck me dumb', it just wouldn't happen. Now stop trying to get in my pants."

Jaemin opened then closed his mouth about to say something, but didn't and just put on a sweet smile, "Go take these to table 7 for nana." He said like he was testing yoj.

"Why? You made them."

"Nana told you to do something little girl, now do it." Jaemins sweet smile was still plastered on his face yet it intimidated you enough to do as he said.

Taemin was long gone when you walked out and you were kind of sad as you weren't able to say goodbye before he left. You placed the shake down on the table and was ready to walk away when you heard your name being called.

"Y/n? You work here?" Seulgis voice spoke as you turned around. Both her and sana were looking at you with shit eating grins.

"Doesn't jaemin also work here seulgi?" Sana asked the girl in front of her and seulgi looked as if she got the brightest idea.

"Oh yeah! Y/n can you get jaemin over here? Pretty please?" She asked sweetly yet with a hint of sourness and you listened, not feeling like ignoring her at the moment.

You told jaemin that seulgi and sana were out front looking for him and he nonchalantly went out without question. Leaving you to do some of the work alone, which you didn't mind considering its jaemin, the annoying bastard who won't leave you alone, but he does help you whenever you need it. And right now, it was a bit busy, and you needed it.

After doing 4 more online orders and sending them off through the driveway, jaemin finally came back with a scowl on his face looking ready to beat someone up. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" He raised his voice only loud enough for you to hear. But you were quite confused on what was happening.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

Jaemin groaned, "I knew you were fucking dumb but come on y/n! Why is seulgi covered in the shake i gave you?"

You paused for a moment, unable to answer that. Is he assuming you spilt her shake on her? Why would you even do that in the first place. Yeah you don't like her, but you're not going to stoop to her or his level. "I dont know."

He slammed his hand on the wall near your head, startling you a bit, "You dont know huh?" You shook your head slowly. "Seulgi and sana both said you purposefully spilt the shake on seulgi. Now answer me honestly. Is that true?" You shook your head again, feeling really small and helpless under his strong gaze.

"I-i didnt spill t-the skake." You muttered quietly.

He inhaled sharply, "Then who did huh? Or maybe you don't know because you're so dumb."

"S-stop..." you frowned, looking down at floor, but jaemin had other plans and made you look up at him. A single tear slide down your cheek and you swear you saw a small grin appear on his face.

"Tell nana what happened." His voice became softer as he swiped away the stray tear on your face.

You huffed, still afraid that he'd do something to you although you knew he wouldnt purposely cause you pain. "W-well she asked me to go get you, which I did, a-and her shake was perfectly fine when I left."

"Are you saying she purposely spilt the shake on herself to make me angry at you?"

"Y-yes."

"Ill believe my little girl for now, but if I find out you are lying, you will be in big trouble got that?" Jaemin lifted his hand off the wall and proceeded to walk back out of the room. Leaving you shocked at his words and still frightened by an angry jaemin.

You went to the cash register once jaemin left to get ready to count the bills until you heard jaemin and seulgi arguing. Lucky for them, no one but you and him were working right now. Irene went home earlier and the normal crew always leave around 6:30, leaving just you and jaemin.

"It was only a prank nana. No need to get so worked up. And besides you didn't even prank her today, be glad I did for you." Seulgi said smiling at the boy in front of her.

Jaemin physically cringed when he heard his nickname roll off her tongue, "you didn't have to do that."

You stood there watching, astonished how jaemin was standing up for you. Hes supposed to hate you. Jaemin didn't even bother going with the girls when they offered him a ride, instead he stayed with you and even helped close. Something he normally doesn't do because he leaves before you and gives you all the hard things to do.

"Hurry up and finish." Jaemin spoke. A little bit of anger still laced in his voice.

"Whats your rush?"

He sighed, "I wanna go home. Plus I can't stand this place right now. I'm pissed."

You finished wiping down that last table and walked over to him, "Just go home then."

"Not without you."

You gave him a dirty look, "im not going home with you."

Jaemin leaned down, his face only inches from yours and whispered, "Remember what I said earlier hm? I wanna fuck you dumb." He then grabbed your waist bringing you closer to him, if that was possible, "Can I do that pretty girl? Can nana fuck you so hard you won't even remember anything but my cock?" You were so lost in your mind that everything became a blur. Jaemins words sounded so sweet but were so lewd. And you were so close to kissing him until he put his finger on your lips, "But you have to wait." You frowned and were only getting more angry by the second. You went from not wanting anything to do with jaemin to just about ready to beg him to kiss you. Was it that easy for him to get in your head? Or were you so sex deprived that now jaemin seemed somewhat interesting?

You laid on jaemins bed getting bored with the constant teasing. He never did anything but that. Jaemin would get close to your lips and back away as you chased him. Hed chuckle and coo at you for being so desperate. But that wasn't the point of all the teasing. He really just wanted you to beg him to kiss you. No words will come out of his mouth telling you to beg, he just excepted it to happen sooner or later. But youre too stubborn to do so, so you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him, catching him by surprise.

Jaemins hands gripped your wrists and pulled them off his face, pinning them to the bed, "You didnt even ask to kiss me." Jaemin pulled away, raising his eyebrow high, "Dont you think thats a bit mean."

"So was teasing me, but I let you continue." You huffed, trying to free your wrists from his death grip but it was no use.

"You dont have a say on whether i continue or not. I'm in charge here and you take what I give you, understand?" You rolled your eyes. It was your intention to make jaemin angry. You wanted to push his buttons.

What you didnt know was that not answering jaemin correctly would earn you a slap to the face. And jaemin was not even fazed by it.

"Dont roll your eyes and answer nana." Jaemin smiled. "Can you say 'yes nana'?"

"Y-yes nana."

"Good girl." Jaemin muttered and began slowly kissing your jawline down to your neck, sucking here and there creating shades of purple and red marks. Oh how he loved the marks he was leaving.

You so desperately wanted to grip onto jaemins hair and pull it but he never budged his hands, only tightening his grasps. As he continued attacking your neck, you began to lift your hips up to get some sort friction. Jaemin noticed and shifted so that his thigh was in between your legs and rubbing against your clothed core. A spew of quiet moans left your lips but you wanted more. Jaemin was going to soft and slow for your liking.

"I thought you were going to fuck me dumb?" You said and jaemin lifted his head to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Patience baby. You aren't ready yet." He let go of your wrists and took your shirt off. The cold air made you shiver and jaemin chuckled. "I wanna make you cum at least 2 times before I fuck you."

"Then stop talking and do it." You replied, pushing your hips up to rub against his thigh, but they were pushed back down on the bed.

"Didnt I say to take what I give you?" Your head slowly moved up and down and jaemin smiled, "so why arent you happy with what nana gives you?"

"I want more..." you sighed as he started to slide your pants and panties off, discarding them somewhere in the room. His mouth slowly started kissing your inner thighs and you could feel your heat dripping with anticipation. You whined for more but only got a slap to the thigh telling you to be quiet. Needless to say you didn't listen and continued to try to get him closer to where you needed him most but pulling his hair.

Jaemin groaned grabbing your wrist again and pushed it away roughly. His patience was wearing out. You were more stubborn than he thought, but that doesn't mean he can't still break you. "Next time you do that, I'll flip you over and beat your ass till its purple." Your breath hitched and as much as you were tempted, you wanted to be able to sit for a few days so you stayed put and kept your hands to yourself.

But the desperation was getting to you and you wanted relief which jaemin wasnt giving you until you felt his two fingers circling around your clit. "P-please jaemin." You moaned as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. Then soon enough he stuck two fingers inside you. Your pussy automatically clenching around his digits as he moved at a steady in and out pace.

It felt so good. His fingers felt so good. They made your body twist in pleasure as more moans left your mouth. Jaemin was watching your face closely as it contorted with pleasure. He loved seeing your eyebrows bunched together, so focused on the way his fingers worked inside you.

"My pretty slut. Taking nanas fingers so well." He gushed, still watching your face. Jaemin could feel himself get even more painfully hard but he didn't want to fuck you just yet. He meant it when he said he wanted you to cum 2 times. So he picked up the speed with his fingers, your hands landing on his forearm that was resting on near your hip. "Are you gonna cum for nana princess?"

You frantically nodded your head as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel your cum leak out of you as jaemin leaned down and began eating away at your cunt.

"J-jaemin! So...go-good!" Your head flew back as his tongue sucked on your clit and a loud moan filled the room.

Jaemin smirked against your heat, "I haven't even fucked you yet and your already sounding like a dumb whore. Its so easy to break you princess."

"N-no its j-ju-...." you whimpered as your brain wasnt even trying to help you function right. His tongue was extraordinary. "Mmmm."

"Aw my dumb little princess is so cute." He muttered diving back into lapping at your soaked cunt. It was almost as if on cue and without warning, you were cumming again. Jaemins hasty tongue took it all. Groaning at the taste of you in his mouth.

He sat up over you, grabbing your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue. Deepening the kiss by grabbing the back of his hair, jaemin couldnt help but moan a bit as his cock brushed against your thigh. He felt big. Bigger than the few guys you've been with and you were ecstatic.

You tugged on jaemins pants and shirt as a way to tell him to take them off and he did after getting off of you and sitting on the edge of the bed. His abs were more defined than you thought and when his cock sprung free, your mouth started watering. Jaemins smirk only grew watching you stare. He was starting to get cocky

"What? You wanna suck my cock?" Jaemin asked sweetly.

"Yes please." You reached over to try and touch him but he didn't allow you. And smacked your hand away. It was a way for him to tease you and you hated it.

"So kind for nana now. Ealier you were so cock hungry that you decided to be a brat. Did nana finally break you?" Jaemin whispered as he moved a piece of hair out of your face, looking at you with fill admiration.

"No you didn't break me. But I wanna suck you off." You whined as jaemin picked you up and sat you just above his cock, the tip teasing at your entrance.

"Too bad. Now I want you to sit." Jaemin said looking into your eyes. You obeyed with a little hesitation. His cock was surely going to hurt you so you took it slowly and started lowering your hips. "Fuck...thats a good girl." Jaemin praised, watching his cock dissappear between your legs and your tummy get full with his cock. "My baby's so tiny you can see my cock in your belly." He said, pushing down on the area where he was imprinted in you.

Slowly you started moving, lifting your hips up and down. You were wet enough that he could easily slide in and out with no problem.

Jaemins head fell back as he sighed with relief, grunting as you picked up the pace, "So tight for nana." He whispered and you moaned back loudly. His cock stretched every inch of you to the point where it felt like you'd split.

"More more more." You whined against jaemins neck, gripping his shoulders tightly. Carefully jaemin flipped you both over so he was on top and continued pounding into your destroyed cunt. He kept a hand around your neck squeezing it every so often as a choked out moan left your throat.

His cock was so deep and fast that you couldn't think straight. You kept blabbering about his cock. Only thing on your mind was how nice he felt inside you. Jaemin bit his lip as he smirked at you, grabbing your hair and bringing your face close to his, "Now will you admit that I fucked you dumb and say your nanas dumb slut?"

"Y-yes, I'm na-nanas dumb sl-slut." You cried, tears falling down your face from how good he felt inside and if you thought jaemin couldn't go any faster, he did. His thrusts were hard and rough, sure enough to hurt your thighs tomorrow as he pounded relentlessly. "So close." Your voice came out choked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You held on to jaemins hand that was on your neck as he helped you with your orgasm.

Jaemin wasnt far behind you with his and groaned loudly, "fuck, where do you want it princess?"

"I-inside." You moaned as the feeling of hot cum was shot inside you. Jaemins hips kept moving him through his orgasm until he slowly came to a stop. Both of you panted loudly, there were even a few tears falling down your cheek here and there.

Jaemin slowly pulled out, making sure not to hurt you, and he laid beside you. "You did so well." He kissed your forehead. "Cmon ill carry you to bathroom so we can take a bath." He said picking up your worn out naked figure with so much care. Making you forget he was your enemy.

#nct smut #nct #na jaemin #na jaemin smut #kpop #kpop smut #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct u #jaemin #jaemin nct dream #jaemin nct #nct dream smut #wayv smut #nct 127 smut

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 2 years ago

Note

Hey hey lesbian army here, wanted to pop in and dump something that's been on my mind. I have been stanning bangtan since 2015 and have watched the fandom grow and evolve and it's never been something drastically noticable until the pandemic era. It still shocks me to come across delulu shit online from (I'll give the benefit of the doubt) mainly naive teenagers who blindly follow and borderline worship the tannies. It makes me feel so out of touch and question do we even follow the same content?? Maybe it's cause I'm an og army but I remember how things USED to be and I'm still stuck on that...

The wave of pandemic era armys are so keen to fetishize and objectify the guys and completely disregard their lyricism or work ethic (which has sadly declined since the pandemic, so I guess naturally the fans are turning more to just talking about the guy's bodies). But still, it saddens me because this fandom used to be a place where I could engage with others in meaningful conversations but now it makes me feel sort of isolated because I feel like a lot of the og ones have left at this point, and as a lesbian I can't and neither do I want to partake in the increasingly sexualized commentary on the guys (comments like "choke me run me over daddy" or "he can slap me w his dick" etc etc). Like yikes these are sometimes 14 year olds saying these things?? Makes me wonder what bangtan thinks about the way their fandom has evolved and if they're scared of them cause honestly I'd be too 😅

But thank you for being a space where we can chat about more discourse related things and feel like we have a corner of the fandom where more is being talked about then just ogling over Namjoon's thighs or Jungkook's abs

Hey anon, thanks for the ask and for bringing up this topic because I think it can turn into a healthy debate. I don't totally agree with you, but I see where you're coming from.

Fandom discourse can be easily shoved into little boxes and it's heavily influenced by the social media platform where it takes place. I haven't been here before the pandemic so without doing some actual research into how fandom behavior changed, I can't say much about that, although you're not the first to say that it's different now and there are a lot of fans who saw the change coming since 2018. I do see the worshipping issue being very prevalent and just today, after a twitter space in which journalists gathered and talked about the bullying in k-pop fandoms and army as well, there were threads made by army for other fans so they can block all those who spoke. Because damn journalists, they're all evil. The worst is that the majority of people do it, they click the block button without actually thinking for themselves because they're so easily influenced. Individual and critical thinking is not encouraged and that's the biggest flaw in this fandom. It would be such a better place and a more accepting one if differences in opinion would be allowed and people wouldn't be demonized for not agreeing with everything or for not being obsessed.

I also understand how it can be weird, uncomfortable seeing young kids/teenagers talk about certain stuff, without probably having any experience, but I would say that it's part of their transformative years, except it's a period that is fully displayed on the internet and they do have access to more information in a way that in some situations leads them to a hyper focus because they also think it's cool. 12 year olds are writing bts smut fanfiction on Wattpad and it's really obvious how they don't know what they're writing about. It's cringey and they lack a lot of education, but that's today's generation, not just army.

I think that having some deep conversations while also fantasizing about men can be done and there's no harm in it. I've talked about fetishizing here before, but in case someone only sees a person as an object, then that's fetishizing. If not, if they are also fans of their music, their lyricism, how they present themselves and they also fantasize about them, then I personally do not see a problem. Women can be allowed to talk about pop stars in a topic that also involves sexual themes. I don't know what the members think, but I'm assuming they wouldn't see a lot of harm in it, given that they themselves talk about putting out some sexy performances or they slowly get rid of some clothes. They're adult men in an entertainment business and they know what fans like, on top of everything deep they put out. It's always been like that.

#bmt asks #bts fandom #bts army #bts army discourse #bts fandom and fetishization

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svtwritess · 4 years ago

Text

finally- hjs

⇨ word count: 7.9k

⇨ genres: fluff, smut, some angst

⇨ pairing: joshua x female reader (though there’s no feminine pronouns or nicknames used!)

⇨ friends to lovers au

⇨ warnings: mentions of food, swearing, sexual content (oral, hickeys, light biting but not really idk), unprotected sex (please use protection kids please❤️)

You waited in your car in front of the office building you worked at, anticipating the arrival of your best friend who you always walked into work with. You and Joshua used to have the exact same title. You worked on the same floor, ate lunch at the same time, and even sat at the same desk. For six months, you spent nearly every working moment together, often goofing around and chatting even when you should be working. Your boss never suspected the two of you, though, as you still got all of your work done properly and on time.

However, a couple of weeks ago, you got promoted. You used to work on the second floor with Joshua, but your promotion forced you to move up to the sixth floor. You had your own office, which was good because you wouldn’t want to share a desk with anyone else in that building, but the worst part was that your lunch time got moved to an hour later than it was before. So, simply put, you rarely ever saw Joshua at work anymore and it upset the both of you greatly. You both accepted it, though, as Joshua and yourself knew that it was for the betterment of your career (and your salary).

You felt your heart jump when you saw Joshua’s sleek black car pull into the parking lot. He had been saving his money and finally splurged on a new one when his 2008 clunker finally broke down on him. You were happy for him and needless to say, he looked super sexy driving it.

You got out of your car, shut the door and locked it before heading over to where Joshua had parked just a few spots over from you.

Your heels clicked as Joshua got out of his car as well. His platinum hair was parted down the center and it was fluffy, framing his face perfectly. He wore a white, long sleeve button up, black slacks accompanied by a belt, black loafers and a nice watch that looked to be way nicer than he could afford. You swallowed, loving yet hating how amazing he looked in work clothes.

“Good morning!” he exclaimed happily, a small smile making its way onto his face upon seeing you. “Ready for another grueling day of doing something that contributes almost nothing to society for a less than satisfactory paycheck?” he asked, hugging you from the side. You laughed as you hugged him back and began walking toward the building.

“Sadly yes, I’m numb to it at this point.”

“Yeah, me too.” he chuckled as the automatic doors to the building opened for the pair of you.

You headed for the elevator and Joshua pressed the “up” button. You were already dreading saying goodbye for the day, as the ride to the second floor took less than 30 seconds.

“Are you sure you can’t take an early lunch or something? I miss you.” he said casually as you stepped into the elevator. You tried not to smile too widely at his words, knowing he meant them in a purely platonic way.

“As I’m pretty new to the position, I don’t think I should be too pushy about my schedule just yet. But trust me, I wish I could.” you pushed the “2” button followed by the “6” button and waited for the doors to close.

“Yeah, I know. Guess I’ll just keep eating with Mia,” he replied and you nearly cringed at the thought of him eating with her; she just so happened to be extremely pretty. “She’s nice, just doesn’t say much.” he shrugged and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You were just happy she wasn’t flirting with him or anything like that.

The doors opened and you frowned as Joshua stepped out and turned to face you.

“So long,” he said dramatically as he sent you a theatrical, yet relatively sarcastic, look as the doors closed.

“Bye Joshua.” you laughed as the elevator closed and blocked him from view, your lonely ascent to the 6th floor beginning. Once you arrived, you trudged to your office and attempted to mentally prepare for another long day without Joshua.

Okay, so you had a gigantic crush on him if it wasn’t obvious, but how could you not? Working with the sweetest, funniest, most reliable, humble, and attractive guy you’d ever met almost everyday for 6 months was bound to have an affect on you. You never told him, though. You knew that he was out of your league, and that being said, you also didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship, and thus, you kept your feelings to yourself.

Your day was full of meetings and your boss grilling you about if you had done the things on her extraordinarily long to-do list. You told her that you had done most of it and would try to get everything done by the end of the day. She was less than excited about the fact that you used the word “try”, but simply stressed you that you get it done before finally leaving you alone.

She left at 4, an hour before you were supposed to, and you were happily able to tell her that you were almost done with the tasks she had given you. She gave you a smile, which was pretty impressive for her, and you continued working.

You were typing away on your computer, and had been for the better part of an hour without realizing it, when there was a knock at your door. You looked up and saw Joshua entering your office, the butterflies in your stomach beginning to swarm.

“Hey?” you questioned. He normally never came up to your office.

“It’s almost 5:20 and you didn’t meet me downstairs, so I figured I should check up on you.”

“Oh, is it? I didn’t even notice.” you sighed and leaned back in your chair.

“Busy day?” he asked as he walked into your office, placing one his thigh on top of your desk and leaning on it with his arm.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you groaned, “but with great power comes great responsibility.” he smiled down at you sweetly, wishing he could take some of your workload from you.

“Well how about you relinquish your power for today,” he turned off your monitor, “and let me walk you to your car?” you smiled back at him and nodded. Your work was saved automatically, so you shut down your computer and gathered your things before standing up and leaving your office, your best friend in tow.

“Any plans tonight?” he asked as you made your way to the elevator.

“Just a warm shower, very comfortable pajamas, and maybe some Netflix. What about you?” you answered honestly as you pressed the “down” button, the door opening immediately.

“I think the guys wanna come over and play video games or something. You should come over too, we’re getting pizza, and you love pizza.” he said matter-of-factly, but you just laughed as you both stepped inside.

“That’s very true, but I can get my own. Enjoy the guy's time though, you deserve it.” you patted Joshua’s shoulder before pressing the “1” button and watching the doors close. The elevator ride and walk to your car was comfortably silent. You reached your less than impressive vehicle and stopped, turning to face Joshua. Before you could speak, he asked you a question.

“Hey… why do you always say no when I ask you to hang out?” he said shyly, playing with the end of one of his shirt sleeves.

“It’s the reason that I always give you,” you shrugged. “I know you have friends other than me, so I want you to have fun with them without me intruding.”

“Well yeah, I get that, but now that we don’t work together anymore...” Joshua reached up to grab your waist and pull you closer, but he stopped himself before you could notice. “Look, I’m just saying, we would all love it if you joined us sometime, so think about it okay?” he asked kindly and you nodded.

“I will. Promise.” you nodded. “But for now, there is a steaming hot cup of tea and a reclining couch in my future.”

“Next time then,” he said rather dejectedly. “I’ll call you later, okay?” You nodded as you got in your car and bid each other goodbye.

As you drove away, you wondered when you would finally take Joshua up on his offer. Maybe subconsciously you thought that meeting Joshua’s other friends or going to his apartment would make things between the two of you more serious. You thought maybe something would happen that would set your feelings for him in stone.

You were hesitant to say it was love, though, as even when you worked together you didn’t see each other outside of work much. It was probably because you were together for 40 hours a week anyway. You’d only ever gone to a bar or a restaurant after work 5 or 6 times, and you always thought that that was enough. If you thought there was even a slight chance that he would return your feelings for him, then you’d have no problem with things between you changing, but you knew he didn’t, and even if he did, you were too scared of confessing to him to find out. You had never been in love before, but what you felt for Joshua was certainly the closest you had ever come to it.

You parked in your assigned spot and turned your car off before heading up to your apartment. Though your thoughts had depressed you slightly, you got excited when you remembered Joshua would be calling you later.

When you got your promotion, you started calling Joshua at night and you told him that it was to talk about how each other’s days went, and it kind of was, but you mostly just wanted to hear his voice. Admittedly, it was one of your favorite things about him. Not only did he have incredible biceps, wide-set shoulders, an amazingly slender waist, pecks that were easily big enough for a bra, an exquisite complexion, and plush, pillow-like lips that his smooth, honey voice dripped off of.

Your thoughts of Joshua put you in such a daze that you were barely aware of the fact that you were already in your bathroom preparing to take a shower. You took off your clothes and turned the water on high heat before stepping in.

Hands. You had forgotten Joshua’s hands. His palms were large and his fingers the perfect length for.... sexual things you often thought about. You wondered how much better you shower would’ve been if only he was with you…

You tried to shake the thoughts out of your head as you washed yourself as quickly as you could, longing to put on your coziest pajamas and vege on your couch.

You hopped out of the shower, dried off and padded into your room. You hung your towel on the corner of your door and threw on your favorite shirt and pajama pants. You ran a comb through your hair and completed the steps of your skincare routine, happy that it was finally time to do absolutely nothing.

You boiled some water and made a cup of tea to calm you down for the night and put on an episode of the show you had recently started binging. You often wished you had the courage to invite Joshua over to simply do nothing with you, as it was one of your favorite hobbies, but you were afraid of what you might do or say in the comfort of your own home, and were even more afraid of getting rejected.

As you sipped your tea, you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy. Though each time they closed for too long, you shook yourself awake, as you realized your phone hadn’t rang yet.

When the episode ended, you made the decision to head into your room. After putting your mug in your sink and turning everything off, you climbed into bed. It was already 11:00pm, so you hoped Joshua would be calling soon. You played games on your phone to pass the time, until finally, a familiar ringtone filled your ears.

“Hi.” you answered the call almost too excitedly.

“Well hi there,” you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Did you have a good night?” you asked, also smiling on instinct.

“I did, the guys got too loud though, so had to end the party early.”

“Was it Vernon or the one who thinks he’s a tiger? Those are the only two I know.” you asked and he laughed out loud; you could just see the cute eye smile he had when he laughed really hard.

“It was the tiger, actually. Good job. How was your night?”

“Oh, you know, did exactly what I said I was gonna do. It wasn’t as good as I thought it would be, though.” you played with the blanket that rested across your legs, remembering how you’d wished he was with you.

“Really? Why not?” he asked and you could hear the ruffling of bed sheets from his end of the call. You went back and forth between saying what you wanted to say and covering up your true emotions like you normally do, but you decided to reply with something in the middle of the two.

“I don’t know… I guess I kinda wish I had taken you up on your offer to come over, but I definitely wouldn’t wanna play video games.” you said and he chuckled, but for once there wasn’t a trace of a smile on your face. You were nervous, as every time Joshua invited you over you wished you had said yes, this was just the first time you were admitting it to him.

“Yeah, that doesn’t seem like you,” there was a long pause, “What… would you wanna do?” he asked ever so quietly, to the point that you almost couldn’t hear his voice. The question would normally sound innocent if you hadn’t been thinking about showering with him an hour or two prior, and something in his voice sounded sensual, like he was tempting you, trying to get you to confess something. Could he have been thinking the same things as you?

“I-I don’t know, watch a movie or something,” you said as casually as you could, though you were sure the shake in your voice gave you away. Dammit, you thought. Why am I so stupid?

“Oh,” Joshua let out an awkward cough, “Yeah, that would be cool.”

You both just sat there in silence, in a very awkward silence. That never really happened to the two of you, one of you almost always had something to say and you hated the intensity of the current situation.

“I’m really tired, so I think I’m gonna go to sleep.” you told him, not sounding nearly as chipper as you did when you answered the phone.

“Yeah… yeah you should do that. It’s really late.” he said and you could hear him pull the chain of what you assumed was a lamp before settling further into his bed.

“Goodnight Josh.” you said sweetly, but hung up the call before you could hear his response.

You, too, turned off the light that sat on your bedside table and curled up underneath your comforter. Tossing and turning, you tried to rid your mind of every dirty, sexual thought you’d had about your best friend that night. You don’t know what changed, but you were acting the complete opposite of how you usually forced yourself to act. You made an effort to never think about him provocatively, yet there you were, sexy Joshua thoughts galore, and you were beyond angry with yourself. You basically prayed that things would be normal between the two of you the next day.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, you were all Joshua could think about. The entire night, he’d wondered what it would have been like if you had accepted his offer and come over. How fun it would be to play video games with you, only letting you win when you were obviously frustrated. How happy it would make him to see you getting along with his 12 other best friends (he knew they would love you). How funny he would think it was when you bragged about the fact that you were able to eat more pizza slices than him, and how excited he would be sneaking you into his room, away from all the others, teasing you until you either begged him to fuck you senseless or pleaded for him to wait until everyone left.

As much as his mind told him not to, he knew his body wouldn’t listen as his hand slid down his body until he reached his member that was already halfway hard at the mere thought of you. His mind ran wild thinking of how pretty your moans would sound, how painfully sexy you would look with your mouth around his member or your head thrown back into the pillows, and how beautiful you would look when it was all over.

You were a complete wreck. You had woken up late, seemingly taken way longer than usual to get ready, and you spilt the coffee you had brought from home all over your blouse when you pressed the brakes too hard at a red light. Thankfully you kept an extra shirt in your office, but that didn’t change the fact that you were frazzled beyond belief.

You somehow managed to make it to work close to on time, but you didn’t bother to wait for Joshua. You had to get up to your office and change your shirt before the now cold coffee seeped through to your skin any further.

Though, Joshua on the other hand, was patiently waiting in his car for you to arrive, and when he saw you walking at a fast pace, in a frustrated fashion with no sign that you would be waiting for him, he let out a defeated sigh and turned off his car. Was it his fault you were frustrated? Were you still upset at how awkward things had gotten last night? Did you somehow know about his wank session that involved endless imagery of you? He surely hoped it was none of those things, especially the last one, as he made his way up to his desk.

You changed into your spare shirt in the corner of your office as fast as you could, partially because you needed to start working as soon as possible and partially so that no one would see you. The shirt was white and much tighter than you remembered it being, almost to the point that it was uncomfortable, but you didn’t have time to have an issue with it.

Low and behold, as soon as you sat down and turned your computer on, your boss entered your office.

“Good morning, Y/N. Happy Friday.” she said professionally.

“Happy Friday to you as well.” you replied, trying not to sound as out of breath as you were.

“I have a big meeting on Monday in Chicago. I’ll be leaving on Sunday and unless you want to come in on a Saturday, I highly suggest you finish all of this today.” she said as she handed you a sheet of paper. It was a list that started at the very top of the page and went all the way down to the bottom.

“M-ma’am, I know you need all of this done, but it’s quite a lot… I’m sure there’s someone else in the office that can take on some of these tasks and help get them done much faster than I could on my own.” you said as kindly as possible, though inside you were both boiling with rage and baffled by how much she was asking of you.

“Now Y/N…” she stepped closer to your desk and raised her eyebrow, “I promoted you for a reason. Don’t make me regret it.” and before you knew it, she was turning on her heel and walking out the door.

As badly as you wanted to bury your face in your hands and cry from stress, you knew you didn’t have time for that. You went through the list and picked out the shortest tasks to do first and numbered those with a “1”, then you found all of the tasks that were on the computer and labeled those with a “2”, and finally you marked the longer tasks, such as going different places within the building and sorting through files, with a “3”. You felt much more confident after that.

You worked quickly yet diligently up until lunch time, but you weren’t even done with the shortest tasks yet. As you scarfed down your lunch, you decided you would do the 3 tasks next instead of the 2’s. You figured you would be stuck at work for an extra hour or two, so you would rather walk around the building while it was still populated.

You grabbed the files you needed and went up to the 8th floor, the top floor where your boss and other executives worked, and got a few signatures. Then, you went down to the 4th and 3rd floors to collect some forms that you needed to fill out and to get information on the meeting your boss was going to. Then you, rather begrudgingly, went down to the 2nd floor where the industrial copier was. There were a few papers that your boss needed 200 copies each of, and the tiny printer in your office wasn’t by any means capable of that.

On the elevator ride down, you tried thinking if there was a route you could take to avoid seeing Joshua at his desk, but you couldn't come up with one. Normally, you’d be ecstatic that you were able to go to his floor and would spend as much time as you could at his desk without getting caught, but you weren’t really sure if he wanted to see you after last night’s awkwardness, and frankly, you didn’t know if you wanted to see him either.

When the elevator reached the 2nd floor, you stepped out and quickly walked to the room where the copier was with your head down. You walked by Joshua’s desk, but thankfully you didn’t think he noticed you.

Once you reached the copier, you took out the 4 papers you needed and began scanning them for copies. You waited, and waited, your foot tapping impatiently, and when the machine began printing copies of the 4th paper, there was a light knock at the door.

“Y/N?” Joshua’s sweet voice called out and you squeezed your eyes shut in defeat.

“Hey,” you replied quietly, though you stayed with your body turned toward the copier.

“How are you?” he asked kindly, slowly making his way over to you.

“Bad,” you chuckled at the unbelievability of it all, “What about you?”

“Um, fine I guess. I missed you this morning…” he said and your brows furrowed.

“You were still in your car when I got here? I was almost late.” you told him, surprise evident in your voice and your eyes wide as you finally looked at him. He was wearing a white button up identical to the one from yesterday, but his pants were khaki instead of black like usual. His hair was styled off of his forehead and it wasn’t helping the state you were in at all.

“Yeah, well I like you being the first person I see everyday. Makes the thought of going to work a little easier.” he shrugged and you felt like you could cry. How was he so fucking sweet?

“Thanks Josh, I just had a rough morning. I’ll do better next week, but right now I’ve gotta get these papers upstairs.” you said as you bent down to grab the gigantic stack of papers the copier had produced and held them tightly to your chest once you picked them up. You gave him a shy smile and, finally, went back to your office.

You nearly threw the papers onto your desk and separated them, putting the pieces of paper in stacks with papers alike. You then sat down and began your computer tasks, though once you saw the time on your computer, a heavy weight fell on your shoulders. You only had half an hour of work left, and there was no way you were going to be able to finish everything in that time. Though, again, you shook it off and began working.

You typed for the remainder of the work day, feeling as if your fingers were about to fall off. You had absolutely no concept of time at that point. Had it been 1 minute or 1 hour? You didn’t know, and before you knew it, you heard a tapping sound coming from the front of your office.

“Y/N, come on. I walked alone this morning and I’m not about to walk alone now.”

You buried your face in your hands and let out a very frustrated groan.

“I can’t leave!” you nearly yelled. “My boss gave me this stupid long to-do this morning and unless I wanna come in tomorrow, which I so don’t, I have to finish everything tonight, but it seems like the more I do the longer this list gets and- God this sucks.” you were on the verge of tears, your elbows on your desk and your hands in your hair. You looked down and closed your eyes, not wanting tears to fall in front of Joshua; he’d never seen you cry before.

The room was silent for a moment, then you heard footsteps.

“Hey,” Joshua said, squatting down in front of your desk. He moved your hands off of your head and placed your arms on your desk. Red-eyed and reluctantly, you looked at him. “I’m gonna help you, okay? You’ll get everything done tonight and you’ll get to sleep in tomorrow, I promise.” he smiled a toothless, genuine smile. “Let me go get my laptop, alright?”

On a normal day, you would insist that he should go home, that it was a Friday night and that you knew he had plans and that he should go enjoy them, but you hadn’t been this stressed since you got promoted. That being said, you simply nodded and admired his figure as he exited your office.

You began attaching the forms you needed him to fill out to an email as you waited. Even though it was on work terms, you were really excited to finally have some alone time with Joshua. You wished you were feeling more bubbly, for his sake, but he knew how to handle you in any state.

He came back with his laptop in one hand and a foldable chair in the other. He walked around to the side of your desk that you were on and set up the chair next to you before putting his laptop on your desk and turning it on.

“Thank you, Joshua, really. I know you had plans tonight, so it means a lot that you’re helping me.” you told him, but he just nodded. He was always the type to help without feeling the need to be thanked, so he almost never said ‘you’re welcome’.

You were typing and clicking at a rapid pace, forwarding things to your boss and to her colleagues, making sure everyone that was going on the business trip had the information they needed. You weren’t exactly why you were the one getting things for a business trip that you weren’t even going on, but you didn’t question it as you wanted to keep your job.

At around 9pm, you finally sent out your last email. You sighed loudly and slumped down in your chair dramatically with a blissful smile on your face. Joshua looked down at you and grinned.

“All done?” he asked and you nodded.

“I feel so much better.” you admitted and sat up straight again. You placed your elbow on your desk and rested your cheek in your hand, looking toward Joshua. “Are you almost finished? I can help you with the rest.”

“Actually,” he clicked his mouse a few times before looking at you, “I’m done too.” he closed his laptop and stood up and you followed suit. You smiled ear to ear and bent down to turn off your computer. Joshua folded the chair he was sitting in and you gathered your things before finally exiting your office. All of the lights in the building were turned off, except the emergency lights, so it was relatively dark.

“You know,” Joshua began as you made your way to the elevator, “the guys don’t even believe you’re real at this point.” you couldn't help but giggle.

“Yeah? Because you keep saying I’ll come to things and then I don’t?” you asked and he let out a breathy laugh, entering the elevator with you by his side and pressing the “2” button.

“I guess so… I must’ve made you sound too good to be true.” he looked over at you, but you kept your gaze on the elevator floor, hiding your blush. Was he playing some sort of game or were you still hypersensitive from the previous night? You figured if he had something to say he would just say it, but maybe he felt the same way as you in terms of not wanting to ruin your friendship… It felt like forever, but you eventually reached the second floor and made your way to Joshua’s workspace.

He placed his laptop on his desk and you plugged it into the charger as he went to put the chair away. You leaned against his desk as you waited, not exactly sure where he went. You tapped your foot on the linoleum floor and soon Joshua was headed back toward you. Though, the way he was walking was strange. His head was down and he seemed to be twiddling his fingers in front of him.

When he reached you, you stood up straight, a look of concern on your face.

“Are you oka-”

“I love you.”

You blinked up at him. “What?”

“Uhh, I’m in love with you. I don’t know why I’m telling you this right now.” he said, avoiding your gaze.

All you could do was stand still. Normally your body and mind reacted instinctively upon hearing things, but this time you were frozen. He finally looked you in the eyes and you felt your test tighten.

“Why…” you pondered for a moment, “Why didn’t you say something last night?!” you threw your hands up in the air frustratedly and stepped away from him. His face went from nervous to confused as he turned to look at you.

“What? Why would I have done that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I was horny out of my mind?” you raised your voice slightly, and he was looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. You looked at him for a moment, then sighed, burying your face in your hands. “Sorry, that was… anyway what I meant to say is that I like you too, a lot actually, love is just a really scary word and I’ve never been in love before so I didn’t want to word it that way and I’m not only interested in you physically, even though that’s how it sounded, it just would’ve been nice to know that yesterday because I’ve been like, really lonely for a while now and would’ve potentially, no, definitely wanted to hook up or something, but anyway that’s beside point-”

“Y/N.” Joshua interrupted your extremely nervous ramble and walked up to you, your chests almost touching. He reached up and gently tilted your chin so you were looking up into his beautiful brown eyes. Before you could ask what he was doing, his lips were on yours.

You couldn’t believe it, but his lips felt even softer than they looked. His kiss was gentle, warm, and inviting, just as he was.

You put your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, wanting to feel him against you as best as you could. His tongue slid into your mouth and his hands began roaming your body. He touched you everywhere he could, as if he’d thought about what he’d do this moment on an endless loop. His hands roamed your sides, squeezing your hips with a groan before moving up to your breasts.

“God this shirt…” he whispered into the kiss. You smirked against his lips as you leaned into his touch.

“What about it?” you replied quickly, unable to believe how amazing his hands felt even over your blouse.

“It’s so,” he bit your bottom lip as he pulled away from the kiss, “tight.” you moaned into the kiss as his hands travelled down your body once more. One stopped at your waist and the other continued to your ass. “These skirts are ridiculous too.” he sighed against your lips, pushing your lower half against his. You could feel him growing hard in his pants, his member prodding against your stomach only exciting you further.

“What?” you laughed, “Are they too tight?” you raised your eyebrow. He smirked against your lips, reaching down and grabbing the back of your thighs before lifting you up and setting you on the desk. You placed a lingering kiss on his lips, “Because I’ll show you tight.” you joked and he chuckled, looking down at the floor.

“I don’t know why I thought you would be able to stay serious this whole time.” he kissed you again, only this time with more force. You kept one hand on the back of his neck and moved the other one to his chest, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. With each button that came undone, more of his beautiful honey-colored skin was revealed.

Once his front was fully revealed, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands across his perfectly sculpted chest and down his slender waist to rest on his belt buckle. He quickly untucked your shirt from your skirt and lifted it over your head, tossing it behind you. He unbuckled your bra with ease as he kissed you, almost aggressively pulling it off and tossing it to the side. When his hands finally touched your bare breasts, he let out a long sigh, his kisses becoming sloppier.

“This is so much better than I imagined.” he grunted, the words going straight between your legs. You couldn’t use words to express how happy, and aroused, it made you to know that Joshua had just as sinful thoughts about you as you had about him.

Joshua removed his hands from you to pull off his shirt. He dropped it at his feet and returned one hand to your breast, thumb roaming over your nipple as his other hand fiddled with the zipper on the side of your skirt. He tugged it down and you lifted your body enough so that he could pull it off.

Suddenly he grabbed your hips and slid you forward, your crotch pressing against his. He leaned down and took one of your nipples in his mouth, grinding his hardened member against you. The pressure on your clit and the wetness of his mouth on your breast had you whimpering, your fingers threaded through his platinum locks.

“J-Joshua, more,” you whined, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. He sat you up straight and your hands immediately went to work on his belt. Your hands shook slightly as you undid it, your excitement getting the best of you. As soon as it was unbuckled, you popped the button open and unzipped his pants as he quickly toed his shoes off. He kicked his pants off as well and shoved them under the desk with his foot.

Your hand immediately went to palm his member over his boxers, a beautiful moan falling off of Joshua’s lips. He went from kissing your lips to your neck and you bit your lip, trying not to make the noises your body so desperately wanted to make.

You sighed before reaching into Joshua’s boxers, beginning to stroke his length. He inhaled sharply at the feeling before letting out a shaky breath. When you reached the top of his cock, you ran your thumb over the tip, precum dripping down his shaft.

“Y/N,” he moaned, “God I need to fuck you.” he let out a sigh as he rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

“Then do it.” you smirked, refusing to break eye contact as you slowly slid his boxers down his thighs. You placed a light kiss on his lips and shoved them the rest of the way down. He kicked them to where the rest of his clothes were before grabbing your hip with one hand and resting his other on the desk. He leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss, continuing to lean forward until you were laying flat against the cold wood.

He kissed you sweetly as his hand travelled down your body, moving right past where you needed him most, to grip your thigh. You knew he was teasing you and you hated it.

As soon as you went to complain, his lips were kissing your neck once more. He bit down gently on your skin before sliding his tongue over the wound. You let out a moan as he moved to another spot on your neck, repeating the process on another spot of supple skin.

You moved your hands to his hair and pulled on it, arching into his touch. He then peppered kisses across your chest before moving to your breasts. He wrapped his mouth around one and his large hand encompassed the other. He sucked on your nipple before pulling on it with his teeth, the action going straight between your legs.

He sloppily kissed his way down your stomach, his hands moving down your legs and removing your heels. When he reached right below your navel, he slowly spread your legs. You were hesitant, being so exposed always made you nervous, but you were too far gone to even think of changing anything.

He lightly blew on your clit, eliciting a loud moan to fall from your lips. Your back arched and you tugged on his hair, trying to pull him closer to your heat.

“Tell me what you want.” though his voice sounded sweet, his tone was adamant. He stared at your pussy, glistening beautifully just for him. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting the opportunity to touch you, to feel you.

“I,” he ran his finger along your heat, collecting your wetness and causing you to let out a shaky breath as he trailed his wet finger down your thigh. “I-I want your mouth.” you rushed. He continued gently roaming his finger all around your lower half, though purposefully avoiding your sensitive spot.

“Want my mouth… where?” he pouted slightly as he looked up at you from between your legs.

“Joshua please don’t make me-” he cut you off by slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. He lapped at your pussy, collecting your juices on his tongue before sucking on your clit. You breathed heavily as you grabbed at his hair, whimpers leaving your lips. He kitten licked at your heat as he slid one of his long fingers into you.

“Oh my god yes,” you moaned breathlessly as he pumped it in and out of you. He soon added a second finger, curling them inside of you before pumping them a few times and repeating the process. The tips of his fingers hit your spot, and he knew it too. You clenched around his fingers and moaned louder than you had the entire night.

“Joshua…” you said quietly, stopping his hand with yours. He looked up at you with wide eyes, thinking that he had done something wrong. You brought his fingers to your lips and Joshua bit his lip as he watched you suck them clean. You put your hand on the back of his head and crashed your lips to his, the taste of you still on his tongue.

“What is it?” he whispered against your lips. You let your tongue explore his mouth as he slowly stood up. You reached down to stroke his length once more, Joshua bucking into your hand involuntarily.

“Wanna come on your cock.” you admitted and felt him smirk against your lips. You laid back down eagerly, Joshua leaning with you, continuing the kiss.

He propped himself up on one elbow and moved his other hand in between your bodies, aligning his cock with your entrance. He kissed you passionately as he slid into you, a guttural moan falling from Joshua’s lips and a high-pitched one falling from yours. He buried his face in your neck as you got used to the feeling of each other, the euphoria being better than you could have imagined.

“Okay,” you exhaled and tapped his shoulder. He slowly pulled out of you and then slammed back in, repeating the slow yet menacing process until it was clear the both of you needed more.

Joshua stood up straight, your hips tight in his grip, and quickened his pace. You could feel every inch of him, a light sweat covering your forehead.

“Harder,” you pleaded, though your voice was barely audible.

Your wish was his command as he kept the fast pace, but began pounding into you mercilessly. With each thrust he hit your g-spot, causing your back to arch almost painfully.

“You feel so good baby,” he groaned, a quiet moan falling from your lips at the unexpected nickname.

Joshua couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and his ears worked hard to pick up every sound that fell from your lips. Your breasts bounced with each thrust and he could hear how wet you were; how wet he had made you. Other than how sinfully beautiful you looked under him, the fact that he was the one who was making you feel so good was driving him crazy.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, eyes closing as you relished in the feeling. One of Joshua’s hands moved from your waist to your clit, adding pressure as he thrusted into you. You cried out, grabbing his hand that was on your hip and digging your nails into it.

“Look at me,” he demanded. As hard as it was, you opened your eyes and looked directly into his. There was hair sticking to his forehead and a few beads of sweat were rolling down his chest and you swore you could’ve come from the sight of him alone.

The combination of Joshua’s cock thrusting into you at the perfect angle along with his finger on your clit and the face he made when you clenched around him was enough to throw you over the edge. You came around him, the calling out of his name accompanying your shaking body in its euphoric state.

As soon as you came down from your high, Joshua pulled out of you and rubbed his length along your heat, cumming on your stomach with a loud moan.

You laid there, sweaty and exhausted, your chest moving up and down rapidly. You reached up and ran your hands through your hair as Joshua opened one of his desk drawers. He pulled out a napkin and wiped his cum off of you before tossing it into the trash can.

“Thank you,” you said shyly. He nodded and offered his hand to you. You took it and he pulled you up toward him, a small smile on your face.

“See I knew you were hot, but that was insane.” he pecked your lips as you laughed.

“Right back at you.” you moved a few of the hairs off of his forehead and admired his slightly dewy features.

“Now I say,” he ran his hands down your bare sides, “we stay at your place tonight. Our first time having sex should be our first time spending the night together right? I would say we could go to my place, it’s kind of a mess.” he suggested, lacing his fingers together behind your back. You smiled up at him.

“I love you too.” you said and his face dropped.

“What?” he mirrored you with his words.

“I love you too. I realized I never said it back to you before, but I do.”

Joshua remembered you mentioning not knowing what being in love feels like and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in his head, he made a face of realization.

“It was the dick wasn’t it?” he questioned, causing you to let out a laugh.

“What’re you talking about?” you asked as you leaned back on your hands.

“Cause before you were all like ‘oh I don’t know what love is’ and now you’re saying you love me.” he impersonated you and now you were both laughing, specifically at the chances of it all.

“It wasn’t just the sex… but I will admit it was the deciding factor.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to return the feeling.” the conversation ended as his eyes slowly made their way from your face to your neck. “I see I left my mark,” he ran his fingers over the few hickey’s he had left near your collarbones, “Sorry about that.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, your skin seemingly more sensitive than it was before. “Stop touching me or I’m gonna try and fuck you again and I would like our next time to be outside of the office.”

“So you mean like, at the park or something?” you opened your eyes and looked at him with a deadpan expression. He flashed you a dorky smile, but you just rolled your eyes, standing up to collect your clothing.

He tried to convince you that what he’d said was funny as the both of you got dressed, but you simply nodded and threw out an ‘mhm’ here and there.

As you left the office, hand in hand for the first time, you decided to stop by Joshua’s apartment so he could pick up some clothes for the weekend (he didn’t plan on going home until he had to) and to drop off his car, then head over to your place.

Once you arrived at your apartment, you took a somehow innocent shower together. Both of you were tired, but neither of you were through with feeling the other’s skin on your own. You took your time getting ready for bed, running a comb through your hair and applying moisturiser. You talked to Joshua and it felt like nothing had changed, you were still the best friends you were before, and you wondered if that meant you were in love with each other the entire time, maybe even before you ever realized you liked him.

You settled into your bed, Joshua’s bare chest under your head. He ran his hand through your damp hair as your eyelids grew heavier.

“So I guess we’re, what, together now?” he asked and you looked up at him.

“I’d like that if you would, yeah.” you said quietly, hoping that after your evening the two of you were on the same page.

“More than anything.”

He kissed your forehead and you returned to your spot on his chest, a thankful, thoroughly pleased smile on your face as you drifted off to sleep.

a/n: hi.. sooooo this is my first time writing a ~lengthy one shot and also my first time writing smut and i kNOW that it’s not very GOOD but i tried ok i promise i Will get better but yeah this is like 2/10 stars so i apologize :( i hope if anything that you guys like the storyline and/ or the dialogue or idk i hope you guys at least like one aspect about it sdjlsfjlkjsdf this was a bit rushed so admittedly it could be better but truthfully i got really excited about writing it ANYWAY!! i chose to write this based on the results from the writing preferences survey i have pinned! so if you wanna fill it out if you haven’t that would be super :^) again i hope you guys liked this and thank you so so much for reading <3

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shinsorokiri · 4 years ago

Note

Can we have a headcannons of shinso,hawks, aizawa, and dabi finds out their female s/o (s/o has a really powerful quirk) was badly injured by an unknown villain and s/o were not going to able use her quirk anymore. By the time their s/o wake up, s/o Actually lost all of her Memories, please?

Shinsou, Hawks, Aizawa, and Dabi HCs

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of stab wounds, sad bois

A/N: This was a trip to write! This was the first time I ever wrote for anyone other than Shinsou, so I hope I did okay! I changed it a little so the reader lost all/most of her memories in regards to her s/o because I didn’t want to go so far back as to take away absolutely everything including her memories on how to walk, talk, etc. because could you imagine how genuinely traumatic that would be? I would have no idea how to properly write about that. Also, the villain is similar to Ty Lee from Avatar: The Last Airbender. They’re able to block someone’s chi flow, and in doing so are able to take away a quirk and people’s memories. I hope this is to your liking, and thank you so much for requesting!!

shinsou hitoshi | mindjack

After graduating UA the two of you immediately became underground heroes

And of course who better to train under than Aizawa

But in all seriousness

You two were a force to be reckoned with

The mix of your insanely powerful quirk and his with his top notch physical combat skills really came in handy for catching and apprehending criminals

The only problem was that you two constantly tried to save each other

If anything went wrong

One of you guaranteed would sacrifice yourselves to save each other

And so far it hadn’t been anything too bad

A few broken bones

A couple of scars

Lots of reprimanding on both ends

But today was different

You and Shinsou were fighting a new villain

And his hand to hand combat rivaled Shinsou’s

And while they were fighting

You saw him about to strike Shinsou on the back of his neck

You being you

Jumped in the way

Instead getting whatever punch that villain was about to throw

You thought that was it

Until you felt the villain hit you a few more times

And you fell down on the ground

But hey that’s nothing

You can still defend yourself with your quirk

Obviously

But wait

Why isn’t your quirk working?

What is going on?

You keep trying to activate your quirk but literally nothing is happening

Which is not good

Especially considering the villain has his attention focused all on you now

“Hitoshi! He-”

You can’t even finish your sentence before the villain is hurting you

And they’re hurting you bad

Hitoshi catches him in his binding cloth as fast as he can

But not before the villain knocks you unconscious

The craziest thing Hitoshi noticed was that the villain knocked you unconscious with just one hit to the back of the neck

The one he tried to use on him earlier

Weird

Hitoshi keeps him trapped in his binding cloth

And is high-key glaring at this dude

“What did you do to her?!”

The villain just laughs

No response

And Hitoshi can’t help it

His anger overtook him

And next thing he knew

The bad guy was also unconscious on the ground

Oops

He runs over to you

Saying your name to see if your responsive

Which you aren’t

Which scares him

He notifies the hero agencies in the area about the villain

And waits until some of them show up before hurrying you to the hospital

Luckily you have a pulse

You’re just very beat up right now

And for some reason you weren’t using your quirk earlier

Hitoshi noticed that

He also noticed the fear in your voice when you screamed his name

That was uncharacteristic of you

Regardless he gets you to the hospital

And they take you back right away

The best healing quirks in the place get to work on you as soon as possible

All the while Hitoshi just waits

He’s absolutely terrified

He can’t lose you

You’ve been the best thing in his life since high school

There’s absolutely no way he can lose you and make it out okay

He’s notified that you’re in stable condition

But probably won’t wake up for a few days

And that when they did a scan of your brain to see if you had a concussion or brain damage

Something seemed wrong with it

Parts of your brain that should be working just weren’t

And of course that freaked him out

But he pretended like he understood everything

In front of the doctor at least

When he was in the room with you alone though?

Boy was sobbing

He was a mess

All he wanted was to turn back time and make sure none of this ever happened

He blames himself

Of course he does

He was there

And he still couldn’t save you

He stays by your side for the next multiple days

He will be there when you wake up

And every day you’re getting better

And eventually

You wake up

now he’s ecstatic when you wake up

Even though you look very confused

You’re awake

That’s the best thing ever

“Oh my god (Y/n) you had me so worried I thought you were never going to wake up again and I was just so freaked out and-”

“Shinsou? Why do you look, like… older…?”

Wait

What

Two things

You haven’t called him Shinsou in years

The last time you did was probably a few weeks into you two dating

Then you made the transfer to Hitoshi

Because you were his girlfriend

Granted you started dating your third year at UA

But you were friends for a year before that

And older?

What was that supposed to mean?

“Uh… what do you mean…?”

“You don’t look seventeen anymore… you look like… a little older? What’s going on?”

Seventeen

Did you think that he was seventeen?

What

He must have look confused

Because you started blushing

He always found it cute when he made you blush like that

Not making sense in front of him was something that you hated because he would turn it around and make fun of your for it later

But he didn’t like it right now

“(Y/n)… have we graduated UA yet…?”

“What? No… we’re in our second year… right…?”

Ouch

Big fucking ouch

You think you’re still in high school

And to make matters worse

It’s the year before you two started dating

You don’t remember anything you two have done together

At all

“Shinsou… are you crying?”

Shit

He didn’t even realize there were tears coming out of his eyes

“Uh… yeah. Um. We’re not in high school anymore. We graduated.”

He presses the call nurse button

And then a nurse and a doctor come in the room

You look at him with a confused expression as he just stares at the ground

The best parts of his life are gone from your memory

That’s what the doctor meant by parts of your brain weren’t working

And he was devastated

And maybe this had something to do with you not using your quirk during the fight

The only thing he could think about was going to the prison that villain was in

And he didn’t care what he had to do

He would get answers from him

He would find a way to fix this

He had to

aizawa shouta | eraser head

Workplace romances are such a cliché

But that didn’t stop you and Shouta

I mean how could it when he looked like that

Y’all had lowkey crushes on each other ever since you first met each other two years ago

But it escalated into something much more intense

Not that either of you were complaining

And yes

The kids did ship you two

And yes

The kids were scared of both of you

But they loved how strong and how protected they felt with both of you around

And they loved how strong and protected the two of you were over each other every time ether of you saw any danger

You were there to save him

And he was always there to save you from whatever was about to happen to you

He only didn’t make it in time the one moment it mattered the most

The League of Villains infiltrated the school again

And this time at night

When all the teachers were supposed to be sleeping

But fortunately for your students

You and Aizawa had been on edge and taking shift staying up all night to make sure they were safe

And you were awake the moment the League popped in

You immediately got to work

Easily taking down many of the villains

And in the commotion

Aizawa woke up

Along with many of the other pro-hero teachers

So everything should have been fine

That is until a new villain appeared

No one has seen this person before now

And they took no time in fighting you

You were the one who stopped all the others after all

And they were very agile

Very good at hand to hand combat

Aizawa saw what was happening and tried to rush over to assist you

But before he could get there the villain grabbed you

And hit you in multiple points of your body

Aizawa saw panic flash through your eyes as you fell to the ground

You held our your hand to use your quirk

But nothing happened

You tried again

But there was nothing

And that’s when the villain started mercilessly beating you!

Love it

And Aizawa couldn’t even help

Because another villain started going after Aizawa

Which meant he couldn’t get to you

All he could do was hear you getting hurt

And see it out of the corner of his eye while fighting off the villain

It didn’t take him long to capture the villain

But it took long enough

When he ran over to you

You were on the verge of being unconscious

And the villain hit you in the back of your neck

And a weird light thing emitted from their fingertips

And you were knocked out

The villain was about to attack Aizawa

But before they could they were pulled back into one of Kurogiri’s portals

And then they were gone

Aizawa picked you up

Wincing at how bloody, bruised, and broken you looked

Genuinely very panicked

He rushed to the infirmary

And Recovery Girl was woken up in the commotion

Waiting to heal a broken bone or two

She was not expecting to see what Aizawa brought to her

She went to work as soon as you got there, though

Healing most of your injuries

But she could just

Sense that something was wrong

Something was very unnatural about you right now

She let Aizawa know something was wrong

And he started panicking right away

What did she mean something is wrong?

What could that possibly even mean?

He found out that one of the things that meant

Was that you weren’t going to wake up for a few days

Recovery Girl would help heal you every day

Constantly trying to help you wake up

But that weird off feeling never left her

And then you woke up

And after talking with you for five minutes

She knew exactly what was wrong

And then she asked you to use your quirk

And she realized just how genuinely bad this situation you were in was

She went to Aizawa’s class

Calling him out to the hall

He was in the middle of lecturing 1-A

But he left without hesitation

“Did she wake up?”

“Yes… but-”

“But? There’s a but?”

Now Aizawa usually never interrupts Recovery Girl

But this was about you

And she knew that

So she didn’t sass him for once

“She doesn’t remember the past few years of her life.”

“…What?”

“She… she doesn’t know who you are, Aizawa.”

He’s quiet

You didn’t know who he was?

“And she still can’t use her quirk… I don’t know what that villain did to her, but she’s showing no signs in regaining anything. Besides, she didn’t even have a concussion or anything and I’ve never seen a quirk like hers just… get taken away like this.”

Aizawa still says nothing

He’s hearing everything

But he doesn’t really feel like doing anything right now

He just wants to zip himself up in his sleeping bag

I mean

He truthfully just wants to hold you

But now that you don’t know who he is?

That probably wouldn’t go well

And he is not taking it well

He goes back in his room

But he doesn’t resume the lecture

He just says that they’re going to study quietly for the rest of the day

He doesn’t care right now

Besides they do have exams coming up and knowing over half of these kids they could use some goddamn study time

But they can tell something is just wrong

Especially when he just curls up in his sleeping bag

He makes sure to face away from them so they don’t see his tears

Of course after around fifteen minutes of this

Present Mic comes in

He heard about what happened

So he told Aizawa he was there to take over his class

Aizawa left without a word

And beyond his better judgement

He went to the infirmary

He stood outside for a few minutes before Recovery Girl came to the door

“If you want to see her you can, I’m sure she’d love to know who she’s been intimate with for the past year and a half of her life.”

He nods

Making sure he doesn’t look too much like shit

Then walking in

Sure enough you’re awake

But when you look at him he doesn’t see the usual sparkle you get in your eye

And instead of the smile that screams ‘that’s my boyfriend!’

It’s just a polite smile

“Hi… I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

“Yes.”

His voice comes out quieter than he intended

It’s hard to hear that come from you

And he isn’t necessarily happy that it’s coming from you

“Oh… well, um… this is awkward but-”

“I know you don’t remember. And that’s okay. I just… wanted to see you.”

He doesn’t really want to come out and say ‘hey! you’re my girlfriend! we’re in love! i love you!’

But he knows he’ll have to

He could stay quiet

But that wouldn’t be fair to you

And he hates keeping things from you

“Oh? Would you mind telling me who you are?”

He takes a deep breath

Clearing his throat to fight back the tears threatening to start again

He won’t cry in front of you, though

He won’t let himself

He doesn’t want to make it worse for you

“I’m Aizawa Shouta, and we’ve been a couple for the past year and a half. I don’t know if I should have told you that, but honesty is just really important to me and well… I never lied to you or kept anything from you before and I’m not about to start doing that now.”

You stare at him without saying anything for what feels like forever

Until you finally speak again

“Could you… tell me about our relationship…? I have to admit, you’re a very attractive man, so… I’m willing to try if you are.”

Damn

Now he’s crying

And as much as he wants all of your memories to come back

He doesn’t care if they do

He doesn’t even care if you want to actually take him back

All he knows is that you’re never getting hurt again

No matter if it kills him

He’ll keep you safe now

No matter what

keigo takami | hawks

Keigo always worried about you

He couldn’t help it

It’s just the way he is

But no matter how much he worries he always knows that you’re strong and you can defend yourself

I mean, you were one of the best pro-heroes in the field

And yes

He did constantly brag about how you were amazing

He just preferred when you were amazing with him

That way he can assist in making sure you are okay

And in his worrying he may sometimes fly around where you’re patrolling just to check in

He also just misses seeing your face sometimes

Someone is whipped

But yeah he was flying around where you were on patrol today

Just looking to see you and maybe swoop down and annoy you for a bit

But for some reason he can’t??? seem???? to find you????

And now he was concerned and alert

It’s very unlike you to not be where you’re supposed to be

You’re very passionate about helping people after all

He circles keeps flying around until he spots on of your sidekicks

Who admittedly looks very stressed

He lands next to them

Scaring the shit out of them in the process

“Hey kid, any idea where (Y/n) might be? Haven’t seen her and I circled this area like seven times.”

Your sidekick doesn’t say anything for a second

Because they’re thinking of how to phrase what happened

And that extra moment of silence just proved to Keigo that something was definitely wrong

“Where is (Y/n)?”

Keigo’s fun loving demeanor everyone loves s completely gone

He looks very serious

It’s only to cover how scared he is though

Doesn’t mean your sidekick isn’t intimidated

“We were all fighting this villain who made their first appearance today and uh… they kind sorta maybe did something that may have taken away (Y’n)’s quirk and then they kinda ‘made an example of her’ and now she’s in the hospital…”

Keigo immediately takes off for the hospital

He doesn’t even say anything else to your poor sidekick who now thinks Hawks is going to hate them for not helping you

When his phone was constantly buzzing he just assumed it was the Hero Commission getting on his ass for posting that picture of you and him kissing on instagram

So he just let it buzz

He never even looked at his screen

Until now of course

And just as he expected

All the buzzing?

Actually missed calls from you

If he would have checked, then maybe you wouldn’t be hurt

He’s at the hospital in like

Five seconds flat

Don’t underestimate his already speedy self when it comes to you

He hurries in and sees another one of your sidekicks about to leave

“Where is she?”

Your other sidekick points in the direction, telling him your room

He’s about to sprint there when suddenly your other sidekick stops him

“Hawks, I just need to warn you. It’s… pretty bad. Not only did the villain beat her within an inch of her life but she wasn’t able to use her quirk at all after he did this weird hitting pattern thing. She’s probably not going to wake up for some time.”

Keigo just stares at them

And they hurry away

Which causes him to deadass RUN to your hospital room

Sure enough you’re lying there

Lots of machines hooked up to you

He expected it to be bad

But he didn’t expect it to be this bad

He hurries over to you

Grabbing a random chair and sliding it so he could be at your bedside

And he carefully grabs your hand

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he tastes his tears

He could have prevented this

If he would have just come to see you a little bit earlier

If he would have just checked his phone

This is how he feels about the entire situation for the rest of his life

Especially for the two weeks you were unconscious in a hospital bed

Luckily, you were a graduate from UA and when Recovery Girl heard what happened she began helping your healing process

It definitely sped up your recovery a lot

And Keigo was very grateful

He just wanted to talk to you again

Maybe even hug him if he weren’t in deep shit for unintentionally ignoring your calls

So imagine how sad he got when he came to the hospital after his patrol (like he did every day) only to find out you woke up without him being there

Bird boi did a big sad

But he was anxious to finally talk to you again

At this point he would be genuinely happy if you started yelling at him

He missed you 🥺

He made his way to your room

Nervous but excited to see you again

When suddenly

A doctor stops him

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m her boyfriend, I’ve been coming here every-”

“I know. I just need to prepare you for what you’re about to see. Something that that villain did cut off her connection to the part of her brain that has the knowledge and information of her quirk, meaning she has no recollection on how to access it. Now she remembers having a quirk, and not being able or knowing how to use it has been very upsetting for her... how long have you two been together?”

“One year.”

“How long have you known her?”

“We met two and a half years ago when she first became a pro... why?”

Keigo isn’t stupid

He has an idea why the doctor is asking this

But he doesn’t want it to be true

“The villain also cut the connection of her brain that consists of her long term memory. Fortunately, it didn’t make her forget too much...”

Oh thank god, for a second Keigo though that you wouldn’t remem-

“Just the past two years... but I’m sure she’ll still be happy to see you.”

Keigo stares at the doctor with a blank face

The past two years?

That means that you’ll barely know him

Yeah you guys got along before you started dating

Obviously you were friends

Keigo doesn’t trust easily so entering a real relationship with someone he just met is a no go

But this means that so much of what you two have is just

Gone

“Uh... Hawks?”

The doctor is looking down at his arm to which Keigo follows the gaze

Somewhere in his thoughts he latched onto this man’s arm

To be fair he was doing everything in his power to have a mental break right then and there

He let go

“Sorry. I... can I still see her?”

“Yes, just try not to confuse her, please?”

Hawks nods

He walks in the room and sees you sitting up

You’re gazing out the window when you turn your head to look at him

The shock is evident in your face

“Hawks? What are you doing here?”

Two years was before you knew his real name

Ouch

“Thought you could use the company. After all, not many heroes get attacked by an unknown villain and survive.”

“Did Miruko set you up to this? Really, it’s okay, you don’t need to-“

“I’ve had my fair share of close calls, dove, but... I never had to go what you’re going through, and I need to be here to help. Helping people is what I do, after all.”

He sees a small smile break out across your face

“Thank you.”

The two of you talk for a few hours

He catches you up on everything he can

But he can’t bring himself to let you know about your relationship

Or maybe he just can’t say out-loud that you don’t remember who he really is

Maybe it would just hurt too much

Regardless, he has to leave eventually

And when he does he makes it a point to find out who this villain was that just uprooted yours and his lives

And he knows just the person to ask

todoroki touya | dabi

Heroes destroy everything

That’s what Dabi has always thought

And he’s not about to change his mind any time soon

Especially after what happened to you

He normally doesn’t get attached to people

But your annoying ass somehow managed to cling to him

And after about six months he didn’t mind it

He actually really enjoyed it

Not that he’d ever tell you just how much he enjoyed it

But you were the first and only person he’s even let near the real him

So even though he’s a little shit who pretends he doesn’t care about anything

When it comes to you

It’s very obvious just how much he gives a fuck

Which is why the series of events that happened to you absolutely destroyed him

It was just a normal day like any other

He was at the hideout while you and a few others were on a mission for the League

Now was he okay with you going on this mission without him?

Not necessarily

But it turns out that’s what happened anyways

To be fair Dabi did go a little too hard on his last mission and he’s still recovering

But he was still pissed he couldn’t go

Regardless, Dabi was waiting for you and the rest of the League to come back

Casually sitting on the couch

Smoking a cigarette in solitude

When suddenly

The rest of the League burst through one of Kurogiri’s portals

And to say they were frantic was an understatement

Dabi looks over

His usual uninterested expression present on his face

Until he sees who Magne is carrying

Spoiler: it’s you

And you’re unconscious

And you lowkey look dead

And that is the reason his cigarette literally bursts into flames

He’s snatching you from Magne before any of the other villains even have the chance to start speaking

“What the fuck happened.”

He doesn’t necessarily ask

He more demands to know

Shigaraki walks past him, obviously annoyed because he’s scratching at his neck again

“There’s a new Underground Hero after us.”

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me right now, why does my girlfriend look fucking dead you fucking-“

“She threw herself at the hero because unlike you, she somewhat understands that me ending up like how she is right now would put an end to this entire thing.”

Dabi glares at Shigaraki

So the reason the only person he’s ever trusted in this world is severely injured is Shigaraki

“Why wouldn’t you-”

“She’s faster than me. Or she was. Whatever the hero did took away her quirk. That’s why she’s like that. Now leave me alone, I need to reevaluate everything now because of this little incident…”

Shigaraki starts muttering as he walks to his room

Dabi glares at the others before taking you into his room

He lays you on his bed and assesses you for injuries

He isn’t the best at treating things

But the deep cuts where it seems like you could bleed out at any second?

He can help with those

You’re probably going to kill him for the scars, though

He doesn’t really have time to think about that though considering you’re dying on him

He immediately begins cauterizing your wounds

For like the first time ever the familiar scent of burnt flesh makes him frown

But it’s only because he knows that it’s your flesh that’s burning

He carefully removes your destroyed villain costume

Placing you in one of his hoodies

Specifically the one he knows you love

Even though he barely lets you wear it because he knows you love it and he loves to piss you off

You always say it smells like him and you like it

Which he doesn’t really understand because he doesn’t wear cologne and he’s pretty sure he reeks of cigarettes, burning flesh, and alcohol

But you say there’s a comforting kind of campfire smell mixed in there too

Plus, he wears deodorant so there’s that smell too

He figures you’ll appreciate it when you wake up

If you wake up

He begins bandaging you up

He’s very careful to clean everything to ensure nothing becomes infected

Of course he’s just recalling what you do for him from memory

He’s hoping he’s doing well

After he finishes all that, he checks to see if you have any broken bones

Much to his relief, it doesn’t seem like it

Just a lot of bruises in random places

And y’know

Several severe puncture wounds

At least none of them were in lethal places

Damn heroes and their ways of not killing unless absolutely necessary

Just severely injuring

It’s obvious that that hero was trying to prove a point in hurting you like this

But how did he even manage to get you?

You’re usually so quick in fights because your quirk

Yeah

Shigaraki said something about your quirk being gone or something?

Dabi is sure it’s only for a day

Maybe two

It’s not for good...

Right...?

He sighs, getting into his bed with you

He gently pulls you against him

He wants you to know you’re safe when you wake up

As safe as you can be in a bar full of villains and with one of the most dangerous and angry ones holding you in his arms of course

He also just wants to know that you’re here

And you’re okay

Because you have to be okay

He glances at the clock in his room

And sees that it’s late

He should sleep

Key word should

But he’s a little preoccupied in his mind going through the ways he’s going to torture and kill whoever did this to you

And this goes on for a week

He doesn’t sleep

He barely eats

He spends all his time with you

Anyone who gives him shit gets a new burn mark on them

Sorry not sorry Twice

He makes sure to change your bandages and check in on your every day

Which is very unlike him

And he knows it

And honestly he hates it

But you’re special to him

And even though he’s a heartless piece of shit who loves to make fun of you and pretend like he doesn’t care

He does

He really does

So imagine how happy he feels when one day he’s holding you

Like he always does

And then you twitch

He immediately sits up, staring down at you

And sure enough, you open your eyes

He can’t hide the small smile that spreads across his face

“Looks like someone’s lazy ass decided it was time to finally wake up.”

He expects to hear one of your sarcastic quips about how you were just brutally beat and how you don’t need his snarky comments at a time like this

But you just stare at him

And you look... confused?

“What’s wrong, doll?”

His voice changes from sarcastic to concerned

Why were you being quiet?

You were never quiet with him

“I’m sorry it’s just... who are you?”

He genuinely feels like his heart stops beating

That’s not a cute thing to do to him

“Very funny, (Y/n). Can you see how amused I am? How much I’m laughing at this shitty attempt of a joke.”

“I’m being serious, asshole. Who the fuck are you, where the fuck am I, and why does everything hurt so much?”

He freezes

“You really don’t remember me...?”

“Should I?”

“Considering I’m your fucking boyfriend, yeah. You should.”

“Oh. Well, sorry. No idea who you are. Don’t even know your name and, wait boyfriend? I have a boyfriend?”

Okay this is officially not a joke now

He tries to get what happened out of you

But, as he expected, you have no idea

He clenches his fist

A flame appearing

“Woah there, hotshot, calm down. You’re still sexy as hell even if I can’t remember you, so you have a good chance with me again. Just... tell me where I am? What’s going on? Your name...? Why the eerie smell of deaht mixed with a campfire is actually very soothing to me right now?”

He tells you everything

And that campfire comment low-key made his heart swell because awwww his little crazy doll is just genuinely crazy and enjoys the smell without even knowing it’s his how sweet 🥺

But he has to ask Toga for help to explain what happened to you

And he realizes that wow

If your memory is gone then your quirk is probably definitely gone too

He leaves you with Toga so she can tell you all about how good of friends you two are

And goes to Shigaraki’s room

He doesn’t even knock before entering but before Shigaraki can scream at him Dabi asks a simple question

“Where can I find this new hero?”

979 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Faded

Averykedavra prompt: okay, first of all, can I be added to your taglist? I love your fics! secondly, if you're open to prompts (apologies if you're not) could you write some logan-centric hurt/comfort? with roman and maybe Virgil comforting him? no pressure, but thanks!! and again your fics are absolutely incredible

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re an icon ^_^

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Logan’s not feeling so great, so self-doubt, self-esteem issues, all that jazz

Pairings: depending on how you want to read it, logince, analogical, possible prinxiety, analogince, or just hella platonic. My aro ass doesn’t know anymore you choose

Word Count: 4237

When a Side's role is disregarded, their door fades from the hallway.

Logan...do the others really need Logan?

Or just Logic?

“Neato! So you're making your little factoids optional this time around.”

Thank Archimedes the little pixelated boxes didn’t allow for much dynamic character interaction.

Logan swallows and tries to keep going, growing more concerned that the lump in his throat would make it impossible to speak. But he can do this. For Thomas, he can do this. He has to.

“Oh, I’ve got this one, guys!”

‘IGNORANT’ flashes up in front of him in big, red letters. Almost immediately he can hear the scoldings of Thomas and Patton followed by Roman’s mumbled apology but it’s too late. The word sears itself into his brain and he can’t see anything other than the choice that they’ve made.

He swallows again. Alright. He’ll speak directly to the audience. Thomas has to listen to them eventually, doesn’t he?

…well, maybe, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting every time he pops up with something and it’s completely ignored. He tries to appeal to Patton’s sense of humor. He tries to give Roman something when he can’t find the right words. He tries to give Thomas something, anything.

Then he gets overexcited and pushes Patton into the blinds.

The second Roman’s sword flashes out and slices him neatly in two a searing bolt of pain spreads to his arms, to his chest, to his throat. He knows logically—he knows everything logically—he can’t be hurt by that. It isn’t him. He is not connected in any way physically to these lowdowns.

So why are his hands shaking?

This is so ridiculous. He is Logic. He should not be working like this, he should not be reacting like this. This is logically the next step, he must simply not be out of the adjustment process yet. Which is ridiculous in and of itself, has he not mentioned several times over that the presence of the others imbeds Thomas’s ability to think rationally and calmly about the issues they have to face? Has he not himself wondered that if he were not so…undone by being in the same room that he finds it difficult to keep going when he needs to? Shouldn’t this be better?

“You know I'm- I'm not doing a really great job explaining this philosophy. Um, Logan?”

Patton? Logan pops up.

Patton smiles—smiles?—at him as the box appears at the bottom of the screen. From this angle, he can’t see Roman or Thomas. What’s happening? Why hasn’t he been paying better attention?

Why can’t he focus?

“What would a real philosopher think about what I'm saying here?”

Oh. Oh, no. This isn’t going to be good, is it?

“Well, Frederich Nietzsche really wouldn't have been thrilled with anything you've had to say, primarily because pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world.’”

“Th-that's not what—“

“Nietzsche famously rejected the notion that pity was a virtue.”

“Okay,” comes the quiet mumble that, really, should’ve told him to stop talking now, he wasn’t being useful anymore.

But no. Logan was never very good at being quiet, now was he?

“He once claimed that pity ‘runs counter to the instincts that preserve and enhance the value of life…’”

Last chance, Logan, something in his head whispers as something else flashes in the corner of his vision.

‘Skip all.’

But they would never do that, right? They knew, somewhere, because Thomas knew, that you had to listen to Logic. You had to listen, at some point, because if you didn’t, what did you have? They would shake their heads or grumble in annoyance, or cut him off when he’d been talking for too long or ask him to be quiet, but they’d never skip him entirely, cut him out of the conversation, would they?

Patton’s finger presses the button and something of unyielding cold wraps around Logan’s neck.

He flails as it yanks, jerking back awake with his eyes open, out of the boxes, out of the video, at his desk, staring at the screen as his lowdown program blocks him out.

No.

No!

What happened? Why did they—is he—can he—

Why didn’t they want to listen?

Logan’s fingers fly over the keyboard in front of him, searching desperately for an answer. Maybe he programmed this wrong. Admittedly he’s a little new at programming so he could’ve messed something up that disconnected him. Maybe Patton clicked it by mistake. Why was there even a ‘skip all’ button to begin with? He doesn’t remember programming that. And what was it that wrapped around his throat?

His hand goes to his neck at the mere memory of the horrible thing that yanked him out. He winces when his fingers slide of patches of warm, inflamed skin. It…it actually hurt. It left a mark.

What—

The instant his lowdown pops up with his face, he knows.

It shouldn’t hurt. Really. This shouldn’t hurt.

Now perhaps Deceit could see what it was like to be Logic. Or at least to try and be Logic.

Now perhaps…perhaps he may have someone to talk to.

No.

Deceit was, in fact, far better at being Logic. Within an instant, he’d gotten the conversation to his side, gotten the others to listen, to think about what they were saying instead of just following on blind faith.

Of course.

Because it wasn’t Logic they didn’t want to listen to, was it?

It was Logan.

Logan closes his eyes. Alright. He can adapt to this. He can…he can work with this. He just has to figure out how.

He turns away from the computer, stands, and carefully makes his way across his room to the nightstand, where the emergency first-aid kit sits tucked in the drawer. He will patch himself up, best he can, and then figure out what to do.

He’s too distracted to hear Roman’s terrified shout.

“What have you done with Logan?”

———————————————————

A few hours after filming stops, there’s a very soft knock on Logan’s door. He doesn’t move from his desk, nor does he pause in his typing. False sympathies and empty comforts have never been very appealing.

…and he is just the slightest bit worried that he won’t be able to resist the urge to slam the door in Patton’s face.

Footsteps moving away sound from outside. Good. It’s better this way, isn’t it?

The lowdowns didn’t work. Well, they did…but they worked a little too well, didn’t they? Instead of being less invasive, they just…cut Logan’s contributions out entirely. They let Logan be taken. They were good for Logic, not Logan.

Logan’s head turns to the wall where he has two lists tacked up. Standing, the desk chair scraping behind him, he picks up the marker.

His job is to be Logic. Therefore, if he is failing at that job, he must find a way to be better.

The list on the left has ‘LOGIC’ written in large, block letters. On the right, ‘LOGAN.’ Isolating the key characteristics of each concept will help to shift himself properly into the role he must play. Logan’s eyes scan down the ‘LOGIC’ list.

LOGIC:

Emotionless

Useful

Rational

Necessary

Welcome

The end of the word ‘welcome’ is smeared. Logan looks down at the marker. His hands had shaken so much as he added that last word…why? It was true; logic should be welcome in any conversation, that’s why is it so useful, that’s why it has so many of the other characteristics that it has. Logic should be wanted, regardless of the subject matter, because of what it could do. It had felt so small of Logan to add the word, even when it was the correct course of action. Was it not implied by the others that it should be wanted?

That…that he should be wanted?

Unconsciously, Logan twists the cap of the marker back and forth as his eyes dart over to the ‘LOGAN’ list.

LOGAN:

Irritating

Invasive

Emotional

Easily dismissed

Unwanted

If he had any doubts about whether or not these qualifications were inaccurate, each had cemented their place on this list after today.

Logan’s hand flies to his neck again, grazing over the bandages he’d wrapped around himself, only to stutter to a halt when his fingers met the fabric of his tie.

His tie.

Hadn’t—he’d—he’d been so sure he’d been doing this right. He dressed well, he spoke carefully, he did his research, why—why was it so easy for them to say he was—to think of him as—

…why didn’t they want to listen to him?

He tried. He tried so hard to be what they wanted, what they would listen to, to appeal to each and every one of them to make sure he was still fitting in enough to be heard. Logic had to be heard, that’s one of its most important qualifications.

As his fingers fumble and catch around the knot, it pulls taut and for a moment he’s thrown back into the feeling of Deceit’s crook around his neck.

Oh.

Oh, that’s right…he…Deceit—or, well, Janus, now—didn’t he...he was…Logic isn’t the problem.

Janus’s Logic made them listen. Janus’s logic made them pay attention. Janus’s Logic was wanted.

Logan’s fingers slide off his tie in a numb haze.

His hand falls limply to his side.

He stares at the lists.

Irritating.

Invasive.

Emotional.

Easily dismissed.

There is a reason none of these qualifications have come up when he considers pure Logic.

A wave of cold rushes over Logan. His knees wobble. His hand staggers out for something, anything to grab onto, to hold, to stop himself from collapsing under the weight of what he just realized, to stop it, to stop it, to stop—

He hits the ground with a thud.

The words beat into his head over and over as he lies there, frozen, cold, so cold, curled up by his bed with something wrapped tightly around his throat and his glasses staying stubbornly on his face so the words remain in perfect focus.

It is not Logic that is the problem.

The others can use Logic.

The others can listen to Logic.

The others can want Logic.

They just don’t want Logan.

Logan curls closer around himself as it starts to become very, very cold. That…this can’t be right, he must be missing something. He’s emotionally compromised right now, he’s not any good at being Logic, maybe—maybe that means he’s doing it wrong, he has to be doing this wrong, there’s no way they could—they need him, don’t they? They need Logan, they have to listen to him, they—they—

Unbidden, a whine escapes Logan’s throat. It burns as it rings around his empty, cold room. He covers his face with his hands.

Even his cheeks feel icy cold.

Someone will notice, he tries frantically, someone will notice if I never show up again, someone will notice if I—if—if—

But they didn’t notice. Not today.

Not until it was too late.

Outside, in the corridor, a dark blue door begins to fade into the wall.

———————————————————

“Logan? Logan!”

Bam, bam, bam.

“Logan!”

Frantic hammering against the door jolts him awake. Immediately he winces as something in his neck catches. How—how long has he been like this?

“Logan, please, open the door, we—we can’t open it!”

Oh…the others have noticed…should go open the door.

Wincing again, Logan rights himself, sitting up with his back leaning against the bed, blinking through his fuzzy glasses. Why are they so filthy?

…oh, he must’ve been crying.

How emotional.

“Logan? Logan can you at least say something?”

“I’m gonna break this door down.”

“No!”

Well, yes, Logan does not want his door broken down. Groaning, he stands, making his way over to the door that—wait.

Why…why is his door so…pale?

The knob looks almost translucent as he reaches for it, his pulse hammering as his fingers close gently around where it should be. He takes a deep breath and carefully, carefully, turns it.

“Logan, thank god, I—“ Virgil cuts himself off with a choked gasp as he stares at Logan. “…L? What…what happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” The instant it comes out of his mouth he knows what Virgil means. He sounds like his throat is actively attempting to cut itself off with every breath.

A choked whine comes from behind Virgil. Logan’s eyes dart over to see Roman a sickly pale, staring at Logan, horrified.

“…S-specs? Specs, I—Logan, oh, no, can I—can we—“ Roman reaches for him, only to freeze and quickly pull back his hand.

Another wave of cold settles over Logan and his hand falls through the doorknob.

“Logan,” Virgil murmurs, “can we come in, please? I, uh, we wanna talk to you for a moment.”

Why would you want to talk to me?

“…of course.” Logan steps aside and lets them pass, looking down at his hand.

It’s still a hand, but it looks…thinner. He can tell where it isn’t, if that makes sense.

When has Logan ever made sense?

Virgil sits down on the floor, next to his bed. Roman hovers near the door, wringing his hands together as Logan carefully pushes the door closed.

“I’m sorry, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes widen as his head jerks around to face Roman. Roman gives him what may be the smallest smile he’s ever seen before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, the sincerity making the cold burn in Logan’s chest, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It—it was stupid of me to press the ‘ignorant’ button and it was not my intention to hurt you. And I...slashing your box was wrong too. I just saw Patton get hurt and I—”

He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Logan," he repeats, softer this time, "for all that I have done to hurt you. I want to be better about it."

Oh. “…thank you, Roman,” Logan says carefully, “I appreciate your apology.”

Roman gives him a nod. Logan looks at Virgil, whose head still rests against the bed, staring at the two of them.

“Is this what you wanted to discuss?”

“Sort of, but…uh, Logan, you…you’re not looking so great, bud.” Virgil shifts, looking to Roman, who nods and takes a seat on the floor too, leaving a space between them. “Will you come sit with us?”

“…of course.”

Logan sits gingerly between the two of them, his gaze fixed on the outlet in the wall opposite them. He hears the rustling of fabric as Virgil shifts, and sees a little white in the corner of his eye as Roman scoots a tad closer.

“So,” Virgil murmurs after a second, “I guess this video was…hard.”

Roman huffs quietly. Logan nods. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Have the others not already told you?”

“I’d like to hear it from you too.”

Logan takes a deep breath, ignoring the way the cold burns the inside of his lungs. “I attempted to implement a new strategy for how I interact with you and the viewers. Instead of appearing in person, I chose to use a series of lowdowns so the information would appear in a non-invasive way.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“…keep going, L.”

“They were…not as well-received as I had anticipated.”

A flash of movement and a stifled noise make him look over. Roman fiddles with the hem of his sleeve right in front of his mouth, obviously having cut himself off. He glances over.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want to interrupt. Please, continue.”

“I, er…” Logan swallows, something about the movement of Roman’s fingers holding his focus captive. “I hurt Patton.”

From his other side comes a sharp intake of breath. Logan looks away.

“I hurt Patton. I could not do my job properly. I had compromised the conversation. A ‘skip all’ button appeared and…”

“Patton pressed it,” Virgil finishes when Logan doesn’t speak, “he told me.”

Logan doesn’t say anything. The crook manifests around his throat again and he shudders.

“…Logan,” Roman’s worried voice says, even as it sounds like it’s coming from underwater, “Logan, did…what did that do to you?”

“Janus,” Logan croaks, “he—his staff, it—I—“

“Hey, hey,” Virgil croons, reaching for the hands that tug persistently at his collar, at his bandages, when did they get there?— “don’t do that, L, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop that…”

“Logan, can I hold your hand, please?”

Logan lets Virgil tug his hands away from his neck. It—why—what’s happening?

Why are Virgil’s hands so warm?

Judging by Virgil’s expression, he’s as concerned about the stark difference in temperature as Logan is. Several emotions flit across his face before Logan can name them until they both register Roman’s question. Roman holds his hand out, all but pleading for Logan to let him.

“Please,” he whispers, his hand starting to tremble, “please, Logan, may I…can I just hold your hand?”

“Why are you so worried,” Logan wants to ask, “what is it that makes you so insistent about holding my hand?”

Instead, when his voice is barely about a strangled whisper and his first attempt makes his hand phase completely through Roman’s, the question emerges as a stifled scream.

“Shh, shh,” Roman whispers, moving in as close as he can, trying to curl his hands around where Logan’s should be, “it’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll—we’ll figure it out, Logan, we’ve got you, it’s okay—“

Roman burns.

“R-ro—“

“Easy, Roman,” Virgil mutters from behind him, “take it easy, you’re gonna freak us all out.”

“I know, I know.” Roman clutches the air of Logan’s hand tightly. “Okay…okay, Specs, we gotta…we’re gonna take some deep breaths, okay?”

No, no, it hurts when Logan does that, what’s…

He does as bid. The air whines in protest as he slowly breathes in and out, in and out, focusing on Roman’s thumb rubbing small circles into his hand. Roman seems to calm a little as he watches, bringing Logan’s hand close enough to cradle it in his lap as they breathe.

“Good,” Virgil manages, still clutching Logan’s other hand tightly, his own voice shaking slightly, “okay, now we’re all just gonna calm down, yeah? Just…nice and calm…”

Logan has no idea how long they sit there, on the floor, only that after a few more deep breaths, it no longer hurts. Roman’s hand no longer burns, it’s just warm. Virgil no longer trembles, he’s just there.

“My apologies,” he manages, “I did not mean to be so…inconvenient.”

Roman’s cry of protest is quickly accompanied by: “hey, no, none of that, Logan, you’re not being inconvenient. It’s been a hard day for all of us.”

“But was I not—“

“No,” Roman interrupts gently, “I’m sorry for interrupting, but…no, Logan. Nothing that happened today was your fault. Absolutely nothing.”

“…I’m the one who hurt Patton.”

“That was an accident and you didn’t know it was going to do that,” Roman says firmly, “and it was our fault we didn’t listen to you. So much that you felt that was your only option.”

Logan swallows. “…what about Janus?”

“What about him,” Virgil prompts, “the fact that he…came into the video?”

“It was my lowdowns that enabled him to do so.”

“And we pressed the ‘skip all’ button,” Roman says. “And I’m the one who gave him tips on how to impersonate the rest of us better.”

Roman is right, even as Logan begins to feel cold again. Still, he opens his mouth.

“I…I’m not…I can’t…it…”

“Logan,” Roman says quietly when Logan can’t seem to find the words, “none of us are angry with you. I’m certainly not angry with you, and I’m…I’m sorry about everything that I may have done and have done to give you the impression that I do not hold you in the highest esteem possible.”

Logan’s mouth drops open in shock.

“I think you overdid it a little there, Princey,” Virgil chuckles.

“But it’s true,” Roman insists, still cradling Logan’s hand in his lap, “Logan, you’re…you’re so important. And if I have done anything that makes you think I don’t care so much about you, then I…I will do everything I can to fix this.”

What?

“You…but we..we fight,” Logan manages weakly, “all the time, you…you disagree with me every chance you get, how—“

“I told you on movie night,” Roman says, the corner of his mouth tugging up, “I poke fun at the things I love.”

Love.

Logan’s brain stutters to a pause.

“You’re my family, Logan,” Roman continues, oblivious to the fact that Logan.exe has stopped functioning, please try again later, “and I…you are so clever, so sharp, so good that of course I want to talk to you about things. I respect your opinion so much and I want to hear everything.”

“Yeah, if you ever stop teaching us stuff I might actually start crying and never stop.”

“Virgil!”

“What, like you’re any better?”

“Of course not! I would be devastated!”

“Wait, wait,” Logan mumbles, “you—you what?”

“L,” Virgil calls softly, still chuckling a little as Logan turns to look at him, “L, we care about you so much. We wanted to give you space, especially after today, but…dude, you know we need you, don’t you?”

“You need Logic,” Logan mumbles, “you…of course you need Logic.”

“We do,” Roman confirms as the cold threatens to open up in Logan’s chest again, “but we also love Logan.”

“You have got to stop throwing that word around,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re gonna send him into a full-blown freak-out.”

“But we do, Virgil. We do love him, so much, and if he doesn’t know that…”

Roman squeezes a surprisingly solid hand in his lap.

“…then we have to remind him.”

Virgil huffs, scooting closer. “Yeah, well, that’s easy enough.”

No, no, it very much is not.

Logan’s brain is still struggling to come to grips with the first thing Roman said, about poking fun at the things he loves. He hasn’t come close to tackling the fact that Roman just said they loved him.

And Virgil agreed.

“This…this doesn’t make sense,” Logan says weakly, “this doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?” Virgil’s hand is a warm weight against his side. “That we love you?”

“…y-yes?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Virgil murmurs, “what makes you so convinced that you’re unlovable?”

“I…I can’t…I am emotionally compromised. I cannot do my job properly. I will not be as useful as you—“

“Do you need to be useful to be lovable?”

“Don’t you?”

“No,” he says firmly, pressing Logan between the two of them, “no, you don’t, Logan. We love you for you, not for what you can do.”

“Don’t leave us, Logan.” The sheer amount of pain in Roman’s voice aches. “Not because you think we won’t want you.”

A horrible laugh bubbles up in his throat. “And here I thought you were going to leave me.”

“Never,” Roman promises, “never.”

“We did threaten to break down your door because it was starting to fade from the hallway.”

“…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“You don’t need to know right now, we’ll help you.”

“I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this.”

“We’re all working on things, it’s okay.”

“But I—“ Logan swallows heavily— “I don’t know if I can stop believing that I…that it is just Logic you want and not Logan.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Roman calls, squeezing his hand, “I still struggle with that too.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “You what?”

“Believe that you only keep me around as long as I make things that you think are useful?” Roman smiles sadly. “Yeah.”

“But you’re—you—Thomas would not be able to exist without you!”

“Wouldn’t he?”

“No! It’s not just—Roman, you’re so much more than Creativity, if you weren’t here, we…” Logan takes a deep breath and swallows. “Something would truly be lost if you weren’t here.”

He stops.

“…oh.”

“Yeah, Specs,” Roman whispers, “‘oh.’”

“…oh.”

“Come here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, opening his arms and letting Logan fall into his embrace, “don’t you leave us, okay?”

Virgil drapes himself over them, wrapping his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’ll figure it out, L, but you gotta stick around, okay? Don’t—well, try not to worry about whether or not you’re being the perfect Logic. We want you.”

“…promise?”

“I promise.”

“I promise too,” Roman murmurs, letting Logan rest against his chest, “now why don’t we all get into something more comfortable and we can have another look at your neck?”

“Yes. That sounds…good.”

“And Logan?” Logan cranes his head up to look. “If you ever stop teaching us things and telling me about stuff I will start crying.”

Despite everything, Logan smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says quietly, the chill finally beginning to thaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @such-a-dumbass

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#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #logan sanders #logan angst #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #logince #analogical #analogince

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simplee-dreaming · 4 years ago

Text

Catching Up

This is a Harry Potter tickle fic requested by an anon. I’ve never written in the style of parents and kids before so this was new. I wrote it very late last night so I hope it’s okay!

Word count: 1744

Summary: Harry dreams of his parents but once again finds himself in trouble.

------------------------------------------

“Where is it?” Sirius asked for the fourth time.

“I’M NOHOHOHOT TELLING” Harry screamed out, desperately trying to escape Sirius’ clutches.

Harry had hidden Sirius’ pocket watch somewhere around the house purely for his own entertainment. But it backfired on him when Sirius decided to hold Harry from behind and tickle the hiding place out of him.

“I’m gonna ask one more time, where is it?” Sirius asked, his hands now snaking into Harry’s armpits.

“NOHOHOHOHO” Harry shrieked, kicking his legs out as much as he could.

“Tell me, or I’m gonna get that ticklish little tummy of yours” Sirius warned.

“OHOHOHOKAY FINE, I-ITS UHUHUNDER YOUR PILLOW” Harry yelled out, laughing loudly. Sirius stopped abruptly.

“Under my pillow?”

“Y-yes. I was gonna pretend like you had it all along,” Harry panted out. Sirius drew in a fake gasp. He leaned in close to Harry and whispered in his ear.

“So you mean to tell me that not only did you steal my pocket watch, but you were gonna blame me it all on me?” Sirius asked. Harry giggled as Sirius’ breath reached his ears. He tried touching his ear to his neck but Sirius was blocking it so he couldn’t escape the light tickles.

“Yehehehes, I’m sohohohory” Harry giggled out.

“You’re sorry?” Sirius asked, “You’re sorry?!” his voice boomed.

“You set me up and all you can say is sorry?!” His hands started tickling rapidly around Harry’s tummy. Harry instantly screamed and collapsed into laughter.

“SIRIUS WAHAHAHAIT!”

“No no, I’ve got to tickle the cheeky monkey out of you. It’s the only way!” Sirius said, attacking Harry’s poor ticklish tummy. Harry very quickly fell to silent laughter and didn’t have the strength to fight back. Sirius laughed with him then decided to go easy on the poor boy. He stopped the attack and cuddled Harry close.

“I-I’m sorry” Harry breathed out quietly.

“I know, I know” Sirius said, kissing his head gently.

“Right you, I think you’ve had enough tickles today, time for bed I think.” Sirius said. Harry nodded and let out a little sigh but Sirius could tell her was exhausted. He lifted up the small boy and carried him to bed. Harry drifted off very quickly.

“Harry? Harry?”

Harry slowly opened his eyes. He was still in bed.

“Harry?”

He turned around and saw two figures standing in the doorway. They were both blurry. Harry reached over for his glasses. Once he put them on he instantly recognised the two figures.

“Mum? Dad?” He asked, confused.

“Hey son,” James replied. They both approached him and sat on the end of his bed.

“Wait, what? What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“Just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re doing okay.” Lily said, she reached over and moved his hair out of his face and gently stroked his cheek.

“You’ve gotten so big now! Where has that time gone?” She asked, smiling at him. Harry looked at her, puzzled.

“I-” Harry began.

“It’s okay, I know this might be a shock but we’re here now. I promise.” James said.

“So, what’s my boy been up to eh? We saw you got into Gryffindor! And it looks like you made some great friends. Even rescued my best friend!” James said, smiling at Harry.

“Yeah, um, yeah.” Harry was speechless.

“I never need rescuing, James” came a voice from the doorway. Sirius was leant up against the doorframe. James laughed.

“I always ended up rescuing you, Sirius.”

“No no, you lie. I always rescued you.”

The pair looked at each other and burst into laughter. James stood up from the bed and they both embraced each other in a hug.

“Oh I’ve missed you, Padfoot.”

“I’ve missed you too, Prongs.”

“I trust you’ve been taking good care of my boy?” James asked, pulling away from the hug.

“Of course. He’s safe with me. Except for when he gets cheeky.” Sirius winked at Harry.

“Well he gets that from his father,” Lily said.

“Doesn’t he just.” Sirius replied.

“Me? Cheeky? Never!” James said, mock hurt on his face. Harry let out a little giggle. James looked at him.

“You’ve been testing Sirius I see? That’s my boy.” James said, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah I have. But better.” Harry said. James stopped and stared at him.

“Excuse me?” James said.

“I’m better at testing him” Harry piped up, surprised at this sudden confidence.

“Like father like son” Lily said, smiling. James looked at her, then at Sirius, then back at Harry.

“Told you he’s a cheeky sod.” Sirius said, smirking.

“Alright son, you may know how to test him but you’re not the best here. I’ve known him longer.” James said. Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve lived with him for two years now, I know how to push his buttons and how to get away with it. It’s a trick you have when you’re young.” Harry sassed. James slightly opened his mouth. Sirius let out a little giggle.

“Oh? Is that so? Don’t forget I used to be your age. I knew Sirius then too.” James responded.

“Yeah but you’re ancient now, and Sirius could easily catch up to you. He’s a lot slower now, I can easily outrun him.” Harry said.

“Excuse me? Ancient?” James said.

“I am not slow!” Sirius protested. Lily giggled.

“You are though. It took you ages to catch me earlier.”

“Oh? You want to go again? Cause I’ll take you again, no problem!” Sirius challenged.

Harry got out of bed and squared up to Sirius. He looked him dead in the eye before yelling “GO!” and legging it out of the room.

“OI!” James and Sirius yelled together before chasing him down the stairs. Harry circled the sofa before realising he had messed up. He stood at the front of the sofa and normally he’d have Sirius on the other side so he could play him by running the opposite way. But this time he had Sirius approaching from one side and James on the other. He made a quick decision and ran straight for the sofa James and Sirius both went to grab him but missed. Harry had just jumped over the sofa before he was grabbed and thrown back onto it. He looked up and found that Lily had caught him.

“That’s my girl!” James said.

“Yes Lily!” Sirius cheered. They both approached Harry, now lying on the sofa.

“Now then. You still think you’re better than me?” James asked, kneeling next to him. Harry nodded.

“Interesting.” James said. He walked his hand up Harry’s side and Harry giggled.

“I had a feeling you were ticklish!” James said. Sirius scoffed.

“Ticklish is an understatement, that boy is ridiculously sensitive.”

“Is that so?” James said, smirking at Harry. He squeezed both of Harry’s sides and he shrieked.

“DAD NO!” Harry yelled.

“I’ve got 14 years to catch up on! All these tickles you’ve missed out on from me!” James teased, not easing up on his son. His hands shot under Harry’s arms and Harry arched his back and screamed.

“Easy James,” Lily said.

“He’s alright Lil, he’s had worse from me” Sirius said, calming her.

“Oi James, I know all his bad spots if you really want to get him.” Sirius said. James stopped and looked at him.

“Do go on.”

Sirius approached Harry and winked at him.

“Sirius please don't,” Harry pleaded.

“James, you may wanna watch out. He’s gonna kick” Sirius warned. He launched a ten finger attack on Harry’s tummy. Shaking his hands and wiggling his fingers deep into the sensitive tummy. Harry screamed loudly and collapsed back into laughter.

“Right here James, this is his worst spot,” Sirius informed. James smiled at his son being tickled by his best mate.

“Alright alright Sirius, I want a go. He’s my son.” James said. He switched places with Sirius and attacked Harry’s ticklish tummy. Harry fell in and out of silent laughter.

“This is how fathers and sons bond, right?” James asked. He looked at Lily who was smiling sweetly at him. Her heart was full at the sound of her son’s laughter. James kept this up for a few minutes until Harry was red in the face.

“Alright James, don’t kill him” Lily laughed. James eased up.

“You okay son?” He asked. Harry nodded. James slowly lifted him up into a sitting position and pulled him into a cuddle. Harry rested his head into James’ shoulder as he let out residual giggles.

“I love you, son.”

“I love you too, dad” Harry responded. Lily sat on the other side and cuddled in close to Harry too. She gently tickled Harry’s neck and he giggled.

“Muhuhum stohohop”

“Sorry love, I just wanted a go too.” She said before holding him close. Sirius looked at the three of them together and decided to leave them alone for a bit.

“Mum, Dad. I love you both”

“We love you too Harry. So much.” Lily said, she kissed him gently on the forehead.

Then everything started to fade to darkness.

“Harry?”

Harry blinked his eyes open. He was lying in bed. Sirius was sitting at the end of his bed.

“Are you okay?” Sirius asked. Harry looked at him, dazed.

“What? What time is it?” He asked.

“4am” Sirius responded.

“Where….where did Mum and Dad go?”

“What?”

“Where did my parents go?”

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked, concerned.

“They were right here, we were all together. We were hugging and I was being tickled and…”

“Ah, that explains the giggling.” Sirius said.

“What?”

“You were giggling in your sleep, that’s why I came in to see if you were okay.”

“Sleep?” Harry asked, confused.

“Harry, I think you were dreaming.”

Harry went quiet.

“Harry?”

“Oh.” He said. He lowered his head. Sirius’ heart sank. He moved up the bed and held Harry close to him.

“It’s okay. I’m here, I’ve got you. You know they’re both up there looking down on you, showering you with support every day.” Sirius said, rubbing Harry’s head. Harry nodded slowly. A tear slid down his face.

“Look at me.”

Harry looked up at SIrius.

“It’s okay.” Sirius said. Harry buried his head into Sirius’ chest and hugged him close. Sirius ran his hand up and down Harry’s side eliciting small giggles from Harry.

“I love you, Sirius.”

“I love you too, Harry. I’m always here for you. I promise.”

Harry slowly fell back asleep on Sirius’ shoulder.

#harry potter tickle fic #tickle fic #lee!harry #ler!sirius #ler!james

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batarella · 4 years ago

Text

3 birds 1 stone - RED

Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

WORDS: 7791 WARNINGS: Sexual Content, Mentions of Trauma

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

-----

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

- Great Expectations, Charles Dickens

You:

“Y/N?”

On peaceful days should there be chaos to be expected. With peace does not come promise. A flower with blooming red petals would eventually wilt, despite all else telling it not to. That same blooming flower would die the same from other natural, unnatural causes, like a wind too strong for it to hold onto its stem or a butterfly that came too late for its pollen.

But when peace was current, something you could see right before you knowing it wasn’t to last, it wasn’t much because of the artist you were why you’d resort to capturing that peace onto your canvas and make it last forever.

Two artists, that was. Someone joined you in your endeavor that day. Not so much of a student as he were a companion. An equal, perhaps.

Damian didn’t let his squinting eyes from where he placed the tiniest round brush on, the fabric that turned blue at his touch. You merely hummed at his call of your name and didn’t look to him as well.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Two easels set up at the manor’s back porch angled just right for most of the city skyline to be seen. It was far too small to be the focus, but everything else, the valleys that surrounded it, the actual forests going against the concrete ones, if you managed to get it right, you might want to keep this one for yourself.

Your thoughts complete left all that matter, however, when Damian asked you, “It’s a question about sex. More than one actually.”

“Oh.”

Not what you thought.

You might have had a lymph node in your neck, but still you nodded.

“Alright then. What do you want to know?”

He was painting the clouds. Didn’t even look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Good, you guessed.

“How old am I supposed to be before having it?”

Some wordless mutter rolled out your tongue at that. Eventually, the answer just came right out of you.

“Other than being of age, it really depends if you’re emotionally ready for it, Damian. If you know you’re not ready, nothing should push you to do it.”

“How do I know when I’m ready?”

That same calmness, the one that steadied your often shaking hands, allowed you to create the perfect cone for one of the hilltops at the horizon. You marveled over it for a while.

“When your doubts are encompassed with everything else,” you said. “When you know about what comes after.”

A dimming yellow sun, over at the far end. It was that sun, you told yourself, that was making those words fall of your lips. And not at all this series of resurfacing memories.

“When you meet the right person,” you told him.

You saw from your side eye how that remark made Damian stop with his brush. He set it onto its holder, placed his hands on his knees. “Other people don’t wait for that last one,” he said. “Do they?”

“It’s always different for a lot of people. Sometimes, they could only ever do it with people they love. Sometimes, it doesn’t even matter.”

“When I have sex with someo-“

You gave him a dirty look.

“When I’m a lot older,” he scoffed. “And I want to engage in the act of coitus.”

“Coitus?”

“How do I know they’re right? They’re the right person at that moment, then suddenly the next, they’re not.”

You reached over his easel to grab his brush, handing it back as you pointed at a raven that landed on one of the trees. It urged him to continue.

“You ask yourself then. If things won’t go the way you’d have wanted with that someone, would you regret ever doing it with them at all?”

“Obviously,” he snorted. “I wouldn’t want to waste my time.”

A bright smile, just as you settled the green of the wilting grass. Not so much was it green as it were this brownish orange, with it still cold enough for you to wear a sweater this uncomfortable when you’d have wanted your hands free.

“Is it really this…” he did some kind of motion with his hands. “…milestone in your life that’s supposed to be so important?”

“Wow, you’re really asking the right questions here, kid.”

That nickname made him snarl, back to his canvas. It took you a while, having to look to the sky for some kind of answer that wasn’t going to mess his head for the rest of his life.

“I used to think it wasn’t,” you said. “Sometimes, it’s only as important as you make it. It’s all up to what you believe.”

You turned your brush over just the right circle, which made of the red petals of a rose on one of the bushes that first greeted the day after months of a long winter.

Then there was this sinking. Something within.

“But your first time, at least. It should be with someone you love,” you said. “You’ll find that a lot of things will be easier for you.”

He seemed satisfied with that. Thankfully. He didn’t look so traumatized just yet.

Then he asked you one that no longer was so easy to think about.

“Was your first time with someone you loved?”

And you thought, with how everything suddenly weighed, not just your head or your hands but the whirring air, the leaves that danced along to it, the flowers still so young into their bloom, the misty clouds, the light, the brush on your hand and the paint on its tip.

What wasn’t so heavy, that is, was your voice.

Because if anything surprised you that day, more than the questions and the apparent peace, was how easily the answer came out of you.

Easy, because it was true.

And it was true, because when you lied, your clammy hands would be stuck to your back, shaking just as much as your eyes would be frantic and searching for something that wasn’t there.

But your voice was as light as your hands were calm and dry, your eyes fixated on the beautiful sight of the city and nothing else.

“Yes,” you said. And with it, came a smile that lasted for days.

Jason:

Two thousand dollars sounded a lot more inviting after a failed drug raid, not so much after the seeing all the evening gowns and diamonds and Bruce using his almighty charm with investors in sharp-needled stilettoes.

He did not, for his own sanity’s sake, want to sit through any of it, not even for a whole inheritance from the enterprise. Nope. Not even ten million dollars was worth putting on this god-awful suit poking through his neck like a knife, a jacket supposed to fit but had popped off one of the buttons, and of course, his hair. Swept back. Ruled over by mounds of gel and whatever it was the rest of his brothers had on. They all looked like elves in a Christmas workshop assembly line with the red tie over his chest.

Whatever trouble would happen, they’d call him. Now that they’ve blocked off his room, however, he came to not much resort.

The manor’s pool, to his luck, was unguarded. Unused for the last few months, but still clean.

Whatever silence was, and whatever silence could be, it was just that when he shut the door behind him, not bothering to latch on the lock, and turned on one of the lights, the purple and blue ones that shone from underneath the pool’s floor, like some magical lake that would speak to him in rhymes, maybe hand him a sword floating on a lily pad, but not even that was enough to impress him. As if anything impresses him still.

He stood by the poolside, hands in his suit pockets. Audibly he cursed that he forgot to bring a cigarette pack, but even that thought didn’t last long enough to bother him too much.

Jason stood there, right by the water, and watched the lights change like they told much of a story.

Something. Anything, to intrigue him.

Anything to make him feel again, to interest him, to cry out to him and actually hold his attention long enough for it to not be whisked away from his mind by his own hands because thinking or feeling was too much work.

But even those very lights, that didn’t seem so bright at all, were silent. The same silence for so many months.

He wanted noise. He wanted to hear again. But nothing, nothing was loud enough for him anymore. Someone could be screaming into his head and so much of it would disperse before it even reaches his ears at all, much less his brain. It wasn’t that he was being dumb, though that would be quite the reason.

But it was that nothing was bright enough anymore.

No one was attractive, or intriguing, or entertaining. Not by a mile.

Nothing. He cared about nothing.

Everything, all except her.

And it had to be just that, no room so bright, no smile so true, then when it was with her.

He hated the truth, perhaps just as much as he hated the rest of the world. The only thing he didn’t hate was someone he couldn’t even be with, much less love. But here he was.

Some noise from the door he came in from. He should have locked it. Now someone else was here.

More so did he wish that when he turned and saw who it was.

“Here?” Y/N’s shoes against the empty ground. That, he heard. Fuck him. “Really?”

“They closed off my room.”

She looked really pretty, lipstick on her already red lips, jumpsuit dragging along the tiles and her hair down her back. And she didn’t stop walking until she was right by his side, much to his dismay. Still, he didn’t move. Though god forbid he allow himself another look after the first one.

“You’re just gonna stand here and stare at the water?”

“Better than that shitshow outside.”

“Every party’s a shitshow for you.”

“Finally, one of you caught on.” He shifted his arms as if he had a drink he was holding, which he didn’t. He needed one badly.

“Then why accept the job?” she shrugged. “You could have just said no.”

He didn’t expect her to look at the water like it were at all interesting.

But suddenly, the lights from underneath didn’t seem so dull anymore.

Because even having to swim through the lavas of literal hell, I’d leave the comforts of isolation if it means you’d be anywhere within the room.

“Two thousand dollars,” he said.

“Ah.”

Everything did get easier to understand, once he stopped with the moping and the denial and actually allowed that stupid little voice he hated to speak up loud enough so he’d listen to it.

“Maybe you’re right,” she laughed. “The water actually is a lot more interesting.”

Right then, he allowed himself a second, subtle look. At her face. The thin straps over her shoulders that laid so well against her skin. Her hair she’d purposely made unruly but still styled enough to be classy.

The next thing to notice were her hands. They weren’t shaking, though they weren’t unmoving either. Her thumbs were rubbing over the backs of her palms, much like fidgeting her fingers would as if she were nervous. But there shouldn’t be anything to be nervous about. Nothing he could see, at that.

But after a look at her hands, it was her eyes that told him the whole story of her trailing thoughts, thoughts that maybe she didn’t know about as well.

Three years since she’s last stepped into a pool, since she’s felt that much water around her, dance along every bit of her skin when she’d push through the waves and move about as if she were floating, or flying, suspended from the ground and not have a string to hold her up.

She wanted to. He could see that. But it was doubtful that she’d admit to that. She’d never admit to that, not when it would only cause so much disappointment when she’ll ultimately cower away.

But her wanting to swim made him want to swim.

Some first step. To have someone to help her. He could be that someone.

Not even thinking for himself anymore. Jason was off to the benches at the side, and had taken off his tie and slid it off his neck.

“What are you doing?” she asked, just as he took off his suit jacket.

“I’m going in.”

She looked at him like she would to a troll that had climbed out of the sewers, though it wasn’t much out of disgust as it would be of disbelief. At least, he hoped it was. That wasn’t even to matter. He’d taken off his dress shirt before he even realized what he was doing at all.

Not something he’d do so suddenly, but then again, some of the most stupid things he’s ever done the past year were all for her sake. This didn’t surprise him at the least, not even the fact that the more rational part of him was watching him move like some hamster in a wheel stupidly trying to run away.

“You’re gonna swim?”

He unbuckled his belt. “Mind turning around?”

Her eyes flashed wide open, and she did as told.

Jason took off his pants, his shoes, everything save for his boxers. This wasn’t so stupid. It shouldn’t be.

He stepped into the pool, one foot first, then he slid in. He wanted to feel the cold. He wanted it to go against his heat and make him feel something and actually overwhelm him. And it was just that, that very feeling he’d long craved, when he spread his arms and let the water seep into his flesh.

Then he found himself smiling, just as he looked up and caught Y/N watching him do all that, lips between her teeth and beaming back so wonderfully bright, every part of him ached for that sight to last so much longer.

He sat back, waved through the water, inviting her even when he wasn’t asking her, telling her that this is all okay, that she was ready.

A million voices were screaming at him that none of this added up to just about every thought he could muster, that it wasn’t in him to just jump into the water, half naked and alone with the woman he loved. So many asking him what the hell he was doing, that all this was going to scare her away.

But it was, in fact, in him to know what went on in her head, as she longingly looked at the pool like it were so much more than that. It was in him to know that there’s so many more steps in this staircase of healing, to being that very person she’d sought out to be, away from the incident, who she no longer was, and never has been.

Jason swam over to the side of the pool, at the side where she stood.

And with that, a smile so beautiful, she crouched over and set her legs to the side so she could sit on the ground. Her hand was too near from where he laid his arms, but he didn’t reach for it. He just watched as the droplets that fell from his skin onto the ground nipped at her fingers.

“Is it cold?”

His voice was low and husky. “Yeah…”

“Is it nice?”

Jason looked to the wall behind her and laughed. “The water’s great.”

She hummed.

Her hands. Something about them. He couldn’t look away. Like they were so much more than her soft fingers and her gentle touch. With his chin buried onto his folded arms, he kept looking.

Not from her hands that were reluctantly reaching for the water’s surface, shy, bashful even, like it would sting her if she inched too close. Y/N stretched out her fingers and touched it, enough to drench just the tip of it, then she twirled it about to create wonderful ripples that waved to his body.

Jason reached over to hold her wrist, stopped just in case she were to pull away, but she didn’t pull away.

Y/N’s eyes were on him, just as silent and curious, and he felt her relax.

He led her hand further into the water, deeper, colder. He felt the hair on her skin stand, bumps over her pores. She was breathless, over something so small. He pulled gently enough until the water reached up to her elbow.

Then the smile he earned out of her, the love he so wanted to earn as well, it was all he could see, with her toying with the water and swerving it about. Right then, he could hear everything. The droplets that danced, the splashes against their skin, her subtle laughter, her teeth over her lips. He heard it all, and it was beautiful, so much more than songs or tunes played by the most skilled hands over piano keys.

If he could just let himself watch her, for longer than he hoped, he’d fall deeper in love than the depths he’d already fallen into, and had tried, relentlessly, to escape from, but couldn’t. Denial didn’t help much, but neither did admittance. He was stuck. And if only things weren’t so hard, he wouldn’t dare complain. Not when that very woman he loved was this beautiful.

She drew her hand away, her other one soothing the damp skin and ruining her jumpsuit with the water, which she didn’t even care about.

He wasn’t even thinking anymore. His heart open and his mind shut off. From how she sat, her ankle was exposed, and it was close enough to the water to feel the splatters but not enough to get wet.

Still, without a word, Jason cupped his hand, drew a bit of water up to the surface.

Then he played those drops right onto her skin, close to her feet where her shoes were strapped around. She clenched her toes at the cold, but she seemed to have liked it. He did it again, the droplets falling from his fingers, until her skin was stiff from the air so cold with it drenched.

That’s when she sighed, went on to stare at the little waves he’d created.

“I want to go in.”

He backed away from the pool side, waved his arms about to show her further that it was safe, and wonderful. Then he nodded at her. “If you think you’re ready…”

He saw her throat hitch, but it wasn’t out of doubt.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t even have to try so hard to show her that everything she was going through, right then, he knew every second of what it was like. His face was soft, his look on her was soft, every bit of him had to be soft for this to be easy on her.

Then things weren’t so soft anymore when she started pulling down her straps from her shoulders. He gulped.

“Could you uh,” she twirled her finger around, motioning that he turn the other way. He did.

It was, both to his fortune and of not, that the wall in front of him was a mirror, reflecting all that went on behind his back. Everything in him stopped, even the blood down his every vein, and with that he watched as she exposed her temple of a body, one he’d worshipped and cherished and made feel every ounce of a sensation there could be, and continue to dream about even with her no longer being there.

But she was here now.

You:

The hardest to take off weren’t the straps on your shoes.

But all you ever had to know, was that the one you were with, the one you were hopelessly in love with, was there to help you through all of this.

“Do you, uh,” Jason coughed. “Need some help with that?”

You knew he was watching. If you actually didn’t want him to watch, you would have gone to the other side of the pool and took off your clothes where there wasn’t a mirror in front.

“Yeah,” you said.

As his eyes laid on you, relaxed, calm, just as you remembered he once watched your body so bare, with just a strapless bra over your chest and seamless panties, what contrasted the very cold that stemmed from the water was the burn underneath your flesh, the burn in your chest, the burn on your face and every nerve ending there was. Every nerve ending.

Suddenly you were limbless when he swam over to you, right in front from where you sat at the poolside, and his fingers were on the skin of your thighs, both of them. The water from his skin, falling and absorbing into your own. A sensation in itself.

You unlatched your leg, and he pulled it off and set it to your side.

Now, you were bare.

Jason was looking up at your eyes, however, and not at anything else. Not at the parts so incomplete. Not on places so ugly. As if you were so beautiful. And from that look alone, you started to believe that you were.

One at a time.

With his hands held out, you let him take your right leg, the one covered in burns and healed stitches, but still with toes and skin at all, and carefully, laid it into the water.

It was cold. Colder than even ice. But god, was it so heavenly.

Now, the other.

Jason, from what you could tell, tried not to look nervous just as you were, but you both smiled, and that was all there is to it to make you step into that very threshold once so frightening.

Your left leg, ending just three inches below your knee, dipped into the water’s surface.

You were here.

You were free.

You could feel the cold, the water, the waves, and the rush up to your head.

“Take your time,” Jason breathed, and his voice was all the more wonderful with everything else you could feel.

Any more, and the tears might start to defy your efforts.

He was as gentle as you knew him to be, and with that, it urged you on. You wanted to be the freest version of yourself. You wanted to be in the water with him, and hold him.

“Jason-“

“I’m here.”

You slid off the poolside, and he was there to hold you up before you could even think to move. His warm hands were so different from how cold the water was, but as equally burning as the heat that spurred everywhere else. They held your waist, and you did not want them to move away at all.

“It’s okay,” he said, with his grip still strong. “I’ll let go only if you tell me to.”

So you didn’t tell him to.

Your hands, already they found their ways resting on top of his shoulders, holding onto him a lot firmer than you actually needed to. Your right leg touched the floor. Your left one waved about in the water. You looked down. They were there. They were alright. They didn’t sting, nor hurt, nor did you feel so exposed that you’d never want to step into any light again.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you frantically nodded, still looking down at the prettiest lights that shone beneath you and Jason’s feet.

You were laughing. “This is so great…”

“It is…”

With you so distracted marveling over the water, he thought you wouldn’t notice if his hands rubbed over your waist, circled them tighter, enough for his fingers to rest delicately on your spine. He was holding you so tenderly, yet you could feel how much he was holding back. And you just went on pretending not to notice.

“I want to go there.”

You pointed at the middle of the pool, where the lights were centered on, littered about to form this spiral that stretched out like a firework that burst into the sky.

“Alright,” said Jason. “Hold on, okay?”

You nodded, and again that wonderful sensory outburst that were supposed to overwhelm you, but didn’t, when Jason led you both to the center of the pool, the waves flowing against your flesh and skin. Oh, was it so beautiful. The water, touching your every bit, it was so much more than you remembered, and so much better than you’d have imagined.

As you reached that very center, and with you having to take in both the feel of this flight, the breath that had escaped you, the lights, ones you had to watch from afar, were now beneath and around you, like you stood right in the core of a star that exploded, a supernova, right at the flares and the burst of light and sound, just as it was on your flesh.

You were swimming on stars, on clouds, on a bed of petals so sweet. You were afloat in this wonderous space, the sun so close but not burning you with its light. There were tears. Wonderous tears. Ones you couldn’t hold back with your heart in full and your chest in this tug that pulled it in all directions. You splayed your arms out, and tilted your head back, enough for your hair to be dipped into the water. And you closed your eyes. Everything. Everything. This was everything.

You looked back up, and no one, not even the moon itself in the midst of a dark sky, had ever looked at you the way Jason did.

Oh god, how you loved him.

Then that music, one that was playing so sweetly the moment you stepped in, it blurred out when you circled your arms around his strong neck.

He kept with his promise and went on to keep holding you so close, closer, until your chest met his so solid, all the cold from the once freezing water was whisked away.

Fingers tangled onto his hair, breaths battling as they met in the space in between, a space that shouldn’t have been there at all. His own hands trailed down to your hips, further down until it made you jolt.

Then your legs were around him. You were flying, so high up in the sky not even the clouds would reach you.

He pushed back your hair.

You didn’t know at what point your lips had met, your warmth uniting into one, single flame, but everything was so much of the speed of a moving picture, that none of time, nothing of the sort that wasn’t him and him alone, ever even mattered anymore.

Jason:

What was it called, when something unfolded before you, and everything happened so fast even when you’d try to make it slow, flashed into this bright, white light, and suddenly you couldn’t move, nor say anything to protest?

That wasn’t even much to think about anymore.

Everything was paced, so slow, slow enough that he could feel every movement she made, every flick of her fingers, every sound that escaped her lips. It heightened to so much more than it actually was. Those months, where he no longer felt even just a splinter, now all those feelings collapsed into the now.

He was kissing the world, his world, and so much of her beauty manifested into this glorious flow. He was hungry, digging into her skin as if there were more to be undone. His lips were no different. Over her lips, her jaw, her neck, licking over her shoulder and back over to her lips where she tasted the sweetest.

She did not hold back either, and he didn’t want her to. She pulled on his hair enough to make it hurt and so perfect was that pain, the growl that came out of him so animalistic, even more so did he starve. Starve for her. He wanted to taste every bit of her.

And so he did, pushing her to the edge of the pool and turning her around so no longer could anything restrict his shaking touch, on every part of her that would spark a fire engulf larger than the one within his chest. He pushed himself inside her, over and over until it hurt.

He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t hide behind this mask of gentleness any longer. For that same gentleness and touches so soft, only could be when his efforts to conceal what his desires truly manifested into, and it comes with deep want, so much lust, fire that burns, skin being drawn in red by the hungriest nails and teeth that dug into flesh. His hips started to hurt, so did his hands. It was starting to hurt her, too, with there being marks on just about every sweet spot there was. But it was just those marks that pushed them both further into fulfillment.

His name, Jason, the most beautiful thing to ever escape her lips, his hands holding her still, holding her neck and squeezing just enough to let her know that only he could ever give her that perfect mix of pain and gratification so immense, that only he could touch her and make it last, and for the whole of the night, his name was the only thing she could ever cry out.

You:

Oh.

Oh, was it all so wonderful.

The strain, the pull of every muscle, the purple marks on your neck, the bruises on your hips, the aches down your cunt, and every bit inside you, still with the many releases, bursts of avalanches and numbs that faltered into lingering buzzes, and eventually this humming that continued like some song you couldn’t remember. Wonderful. Magical. Even if you could think straight, which you couldn’t do much with what happened, you couldn’t describe it with enough justice.

You’ve never slept so well in so long, your head up far beyond the clouds, into space and the stars above, the gas giants that make you even lighter. With not even gravity to pull you down, you were soaring up above.

In some idealistic perfection, a world without the cruelties you knew all too well, it would be that you’d wake up, satisfied at that, to a bed that wasn’t empty, next to a man you loved whose body was filled with the deepest scars, and that would have been the end to the story and all else, the chaos most especially, would cease.

But as it were as cruel as it were kind enough to grant you that moment of bliss, you woke up, still with the sky so dark, and your arm outstretched for a naked body no longer there, but instead you found that very body already with his clothes on, moving as quiet as he possibly could outside the bed.

“Jason?” you sighed, then you sat up holding the thin sheet up to your chest.

Jason was startled. Wasn’t expecting to wake you. Or that, he was trying not to.

“Why are you up?” he asked. He was in a hurry.

And his face, from what you could read, it told you everything you needed to know.

“Are you leaving?”

Again? You wanted to say.

But even if you did, his response wouldn’t have changed. For the better, that is. Because he didn’t have much a response at all.

“Go back to bed.”

“What’s going on-“

“I’m sorry.”

He zipped up his pants, put on his jacket and just like that he was headed for the door.

His face was too grim and blank for him to leave with intention to come back. His hands were too fast reaching for the door. His voice, too low as if he were hiding something from eventually spilling. No. He was leaving. And he wouldn’t want to be found. Not after that look he just gave you before he opened the door.

You took all the sheets and reached for his shoulder. Already, you were shattered. Already, the weight had befallen, on your arms and your chest. He was so stiff that even to just turn, it was hard for him to do.

But you held his face, really held him so he wouldn’t dare pull away. The air had been sucked out of that very room and so much of your body would have broken apart, fallen to the ground and no one would be there to pick them up.

“You don’t have to leave,” you whispered, pushing your forehead against his so your breaths would meet again. “Please, be with me-“

“Y/N -“

“What did I do?” You met his eyes.

“Nothing. Please. We’ll talk about this later-“

“When?”

He sounded so solid, so unaccepting of anything to be hurled at him.

“I have to go-“

“You’re not coming back, are you?“

“I said we’ll talk about this.”

“Don’t walk away from me-“

He didn’t even let you finish.

He was strong, and he never used that against you. But that time, he did. He grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you off him. In less time than you would have hoped, he was gone.

The man you wanted. The one you loved. The one you chose.

Wouldn’t choose you.

Another of the hurt, that descent, when you’ve slipped into this hole so familiar yet the pain wasn’t something to get used to. Tears on the sheets, broken, so many of them spilling out of you and onto the floor, your skin, the bed.

You can’t shatter again. You can’t break any more.

This was the choice you made. No one told you it was all going to be easy. That all this would be handed over just as you called the moment you wanted it. No. Not with him.

Go after him.

Tell him everything.

Go after him.

You grabbed everything you got, put on your clothes and rushed out that door before you were even fully awake enough for your eyes to adjust to the light. Straight down the stairs, out into the garage where you knew Jason parked his bike. He wasn’t there. He already left.

So you took one of the keys that were hung on the wall, started up one of Bruce’s many cars and drove out of that manor.

You weren’t going to let go. You’d chase him if you had to.

You knew this would happen, the moment you realized you loved this asshole. You saw this coming. And you were prepared.

You were as fast as if you flew, if you were no heavier than a speck, a particle that would let even the flap of a butterfly’s wings change its course and move so fast, no one would have seen it.

You called him. As you drove and reached the city, you did not stop calling. Five. Six. Ten times. He didn’t answer.

Once you reached his apartment, seeing that his bike wasn’t where he’d parked it, you called again.

At the fifteenth call, he picked up.

“Jason, for the love of god-“

Your hands were shaking as it held the wheel, and nothing, not even the rain pattering onto the windshield would have calmed you. Everything happened just as fast as the rest of the night went on. And here you were, at the end, and you tripped just as you saw that very end of the dark tunnel.

“Y/N…” he said. And his voice a lot softer than it had been just then.

“Please, just talk to me.”

“We’ll talk. I promise you, we will-“

“I want to talk to you now-“

“You think you know what you want,” he said. “But you don’t. Give it time. You’ll change your mind.”

You slammed your fists against the wheel and the horn blew under the impact.

“You said you’d never make decisions for me-“

“If this is your decision, you need me to make it for you.”

So close. So close to driving away and leave him for the rest of forever.

But it wasn’t close enough.

You turned to the screen right by the car’s dashboard, pressed onto the button to turn on Bruce’s many trackers. There was a red dot.

‘No,’ you whispered. ‘No, you won’t.’

Jason:

“I’m sorry…” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry… but I promise you. Everything will get better.”

Up a rooftop, where he thought she’d never find him. It was hard to ignore the quake in his voice, his hands, how every word he spoke was like driving a knife down his throat, neck, and chest.

“No,” she screamed, and her cries hurt more than that very knife ever would. “It won’t. You’re a coward. What are you gonna do? Leave for another four months?”

“That’s not true.”

“Tell me it is!”

“Y/N.”

He let the skyline distract him, the buildings that soared up, higher than he could ever stand, then locked his eyes onto one of them so they wouldn’t defy him and break apart.

“Whatever it is you think is going on, it isn’t. I already told you how I felt. Why didn’t you just lis-“

Of course, she’d find him.

To be frank, even if it were one of the other safe houses he’s picked that wasn’t on any map of the city, she was bound to find him. He left her at Wayne Manor, for fuck’s sake.

The minute he heard her footsteps, coming in from entryway, he stopped talking, breathing even, and put his phone down. Trackers. Of course. Bruce had five of them on him at least.

He turned around.

“You actually fucking followed me-“

“Why?”

She wore the same thing from that night, the same suit he’d lustfully watched her take off, straps down those very shoulders, baring herself. Her hair, up in this beautiful mess, makeup no longer there and her face beautifully bare. Still a sight, she was, a sight he no longer wanted to get lost in.

“Why is this so hard for you-“

“Because it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?“

“Because, I-“

Every word out of him, a fire that couldn’t be put out. Flames uncontrollable, and his breath nothing but encouraging winds.

“Because you’re gonna wake up one day and realize I’m not any of my brothers… I was the one who never stood a chance,” he said. “No one would think you’d want me, out of the many other things you could have had. One day, you’re gonna realize that I’m not what you wanted-“

“I love you-“

God, it was everything he ever wanted to hear.

“You had Dick and Tim. They’ve loved you for so long… And you’re actually choosing the one guy who doesn’t?“

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

Another step forward from her. Another step back from him. He can’t stand too close or all this would be as close to the world’s slowest, most painful death.

“Nothing could have pointed you to me. Everything was telling you to-“

“For fuck’s sake, stop listening to everything else and just listen to me.”

A struggle at that.

But he’s never been so cold.

It wasn’t even from the wind from such a height, if there were any at all. But he was shivering, his teeth were gritting. Everything he said, he didn’t even mean. And all the more was it excruciating to hear himself say it all.

But he could listen. Even if it’d hurt. He’ll listen.

She was crying. To just reach over and hold her hand. He couldn’t even do that.

“Three years ago,” she whispered into the cold night air. “I was at the manor. Two weeks out of the hospital. I was just learning how to walk again but that day was hard on me. I couldn’t make a step. I was on my bed, and I was just staring at the ceiling because I couldn’t get out of it.”

It pained him all the more, when he knew nothing of what was to come to him, that all this was going to catch him before he’d even realize what it was.

“You never visit me at the manor but that day, you were there. I don’t even remember what for, but you stopped by and you caught me reading A Christmas Carol because it was the one book in my room that I actually liked. Because I couldn’t go down to the library and get more, and I didn’t want to ask from anyone.

“We ended up talking about Dickens. I didn’t know shit, but I remember you talking about him like he was your uncle and I just listened to you. I told you I liked reading his books. You said you’d bring me more when you’d come back. Three days later, you did. You got me Great Expectations.”

Great Expectations.

Why can’t he remember this?

“You left, and I read it that same night. That’s when I found a quote that you highlighted.”

Jason took a step back, away from her.

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

Everything. Everything that devastated, all suddenly came to place.

“The book was new. Store bought. The tag was still there. You bought it for me a day after you visited. Then you read it yourself and highlighted that quote.”

“How did you-“

“Remember that?”

She ignored the streaks down her skin, the droplets that fell down her neck.

“It was just a quote,” she shrugged. “It easily could have been nothing… but if I think of it differently now, it all makes so much sense.”

If he took another step back, he’d fall over the ledge.

He should have done that, now that she had walked close enough for him to get so lost into her face.

“If you loved me then,” you whispered. “Did you even know about it?”

This. This was worse than a fall.

He closed his eyes and everything fell through. The tears. The sobs. Everything. Because he did love her then. He’s always loved her since. But to admit it was close to writing his own death sentence.

This. This was death. And he’d happily jump back into that abyss.

“I didn’t want to believe it…”

You:

You reached for his face and for once, he welcomed it.

“If you tell me to leave right now,” you swallowed. “I’ll leave. I’ll never look for you again.”

Even if it hurts, even if I’ll have to live without you. If it’s what you want, I’ll let you go.

His hands found your wrists but it was to hold you, not to pry you away.

“Do you love me?”

It wasn’t in his words.

It was how he said yes that made you soar past the birds and the thin air from above.

It was when he finally took a step forward, to hold you in place, to keep you from falling apart and keep you so close, that acceptance of what truly went on, the love you’ve long known about and continued to believe in, even when he didn’t believe in it himself. It was there. It was what moved you. You could have fallen in from one of the many spaces above and still, you would end up in his arms.

“Of course, I do…“

Just as the sun rose, to greet you both into this morning anew. So new a life, waiting for you to come welcome it. And you welcomed it with the widest arms. He kissed you, so tender and real. Up where the city could see you, where you wanted to be seen, only to be with him.

Epilogue

Jason:

One box would have been enough for his clothes. He didn’t have much anyway. But as it turns out, leather jackets aren’t exactly as compact as he’d liked.

“Where do you want me to put these?!”

She was in the bathroom. He saw her peak her head out from the door to look at the jacket he was holding up.

“I set up a new closet for you!” she cried out, then she went back to brushing her teeth. “It’s beside mine!”

“Got it!”

He took the boxes of clothes, set it just outside the closet which he’ll definitely get into after he deals with everything else. Moving wasn’t something he liked doing, even when he’s moved around a single city so much before his lease would have allowed him to.

But, this new apartment, her apartment, covered in paint and canvases and rags all over the place that nipped at his neat freakiness he’d soon have to overcome, he might actually stick around.

“What about this!?”

He held up his box of books.

“I emptied a shelf for you, too! It’s next to my sketchbooks.”

“Sketchbooks, sketchbooks…”

Her sketchbooks were all over the fucking place.

He found that shelf, at least. Just enough for all his books. That is, if the paint cans above wouldn’t collapse.

“Do you clean up even just a little?”

“Shut up. It’s organized mess.”

“It’s always organized mess with you artists…”

“What?!”

“Nothing!”

She stepped out the bathroom, in nothing more than just a thin shirt and pajama shorts, then she watched him fumble with the last of his boxes.

“And, uh,” he coughed. “Can I put these somewhere?”

The look on her face, playfully annoyed as it was pleasantly unsurprised, she wanted to laugh that he’d resorted to storing his whole arsenal of weapons in a single cardboard box.

“That floorboard over there,” she pointed. “I loosened it up for you.”

“You’re a doll, pretty bird.” Jason put the box on the floor, ran up to her and grabbed her by her thighs, hoisting her whole thrashing body up his shoulder.

Her screams turned to laughter, then he spun her around, slammed her into her own bed like it was a wrestling ring and held her down with a headlock.

Everything he’s ever thought how this would have ended wasn’t so much of a fraction of how it went. Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

This was how it ended.

And he never wanted it to end.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

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an-annyeoing-writer · 3 years ago

Text

vulnerability. – chap. 1.

Read the prologue here

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 16th May 2021

Word count: 3 727

Warnings: mentions of trauma (nothing descriptive)

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Prologue)

Chap. 1.

Living in a small apartment close to the city center was not always convenient.

You regretted you couldn’t buy all the pretty things that you saw in stores or on Pinterest, because they’d easily overwhelm the limited space. Your neighbors constantly reminded you that they’re a few meters away from you, with screams, children’s cries, music, or chopping meat at 2 AM if that’s what a particular neighbor decided to do.

Fortunately, as the time passed, you got used to most of it and started to appreciate the small space, almost effortless to keep clean, close to both your university and the workplace, and the city center – an area that was always restless during the long days and nights that you spent watching it through your tall window, as if waiting for someone to look back at you.

Despite the comfort of living alone that you tried to indulge in, you couldn’t help growing lonelier and lonelier with every passing day. At the very least, your job and university often took the worries off your mind, and they eventually became your whole life, an existence that focused on never-ending effort in the name of better future, as though there was nothing in the present worth fighting for.

You studied finance; you didn’t give it much hope at first, but it ended up becoming interesting as you started connecting the dots and realizing how broad and important this topic was. Yet, as any newborn financier, you used your secret knowledge in the mysterious field of retail. In other words, you worked part-time as a cashier in a convenience store. Twenty four years old, on your way to getting that famous Master’s degree, already more than halfway through the process, yet – education without experience mattered nothing, as you realized the very moment you started looking for your first job, unable to keep counting on your parents. Not like you wanted to stay in touch with them, anyway.

Adulthood was difficult; the small apartment, due to its location, costed more than your whole family’s used to in your hometown. A small scholarship kept you set up with electricity and water fees, but for WiFi you needed to depend on a close-by library with a good signal; it turned out to have the connection good enough to reach from at least one place in your apartment, the one you coincidentally used for occasional observations. You weren’t sure whether you discovered the WiFi while sitting or if you developed the observing habit upon having to spend your time there over any other place. The only downside of this solution was that some sites were blocked after a scandal over men in the library performing actions other than polite studying, with the help of library computers. The event was outrageous to some, but primarily it became an object of jokes and memes all thorough the city, and maybe even country-wide to some extent. Either way, in times of need, your phone still had its meager data transfer. Good enough.

It was Saturday now; Saturdays were good but busy, because you worked at nights, then slept the shift off, and after you woke up, you could go and study all that you missed throughout the week, if for any reason the classes didn’t sound appealing enough or something else happened, distracting you from them. You spent Saturday afternoons either by the window of your room (where the WiFi reached) or just went straight to the library – a place way more spacious than your own apartment, and quieter as well. The only issue was, that you couldn’t snack in there and you ought to stay quiet. You decided to go with the latter and set foot towards the library.

Therefore, when your phone suddenly rang there, a few faces snapped towards you in obvious disapproval; you cursed internally, before you even managed to pull the phone out of your pocket, because you panicked so much that your hands shook at the initial attempt to do so. You got up from your seat and quickly disappeared between the bookshelves, where the people staying by the tables wouldn’t hear you so well anymore.

“Hello?” you whispered into the phone.

“Hello. Am I disturbing you?”

Your heart dropped as you recognized the voice, although you weren’t completely certain if you recognized it well, it sounded a bit different through the phone. The number was unknown on your phone, but there was only one person that could be calling you today.

You took a few seconds to compose yourself; less than you actually needed, but just enough so that the silence would not turn awkward.

“Um… I can’t talk loudly, but that’s okay.”

“I can call you later.”

“N-no need to, I’ll just whisper.”

“Okay, then.” He was quiet for a few seconds, but you heard some shuffling on the other side. “Do you have time tonight?”

The question was sudden, so you weren’t completely sure, if you did. But your mind felt too empty to figure that out, anyway.

“No. I mean, yes. Sorry, I meant I don’t have plans. So, um, yes, I’m free.” This didn’t sound professional at all. However, you heard quiet laughter on the other side and exhaled almost audibly in relief; it was the first time you heard him laugh with you, and it served to calm your nerves like a wave of calmness coming over you.

“Well, do you want to meet? I’m going to a museum and I don’t feel like going alone. What about that?”

“A museum? That… sounds nice.” When was the last time you’ve been to one? What a perfect opportunity to make a fool out of yourself. “What time?”

“Around six? If that’s okay with you.” If you remembered well, it had to be around three now.

“Sounds alright, where should we meet?”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. Thank you.” What were you exactly thanking him for? Hard to tell. But you heard him laugh again; you felt like he’s mocking you, but you quickly realized it couldn’t be the case – a warm voice like this couldn’t be ill-intended.

“Sure thing, you’re welcome. We’re set up, then?”

“A-actually, I have a question, if it’s not a problem.” You bit on your lip, knowing than in less than ten seconds, you were going to probably embarrass yourself in front of an educated and serious adult.

“What’s the matter?” he asked politely.

“So, um… What should I wear?”

* * *

You were grateful for the few tips given by Byun Baekhyun at the end of your conversation, because otherwise you’d either be underdressed or overdressed. You ended up wearing a more elegant university attire, something you usually wore for exams, but which didn’t make you appear too formal; a long, woolen skirt that was your private treasure due to its ability to keep you warm even in winter (and it was still spring; the weather was questionable), as well as leather shoes, a beige shirt and a thick, knitted cardigan. You felt quite modest; something told you that it wasn’t a regular date. You didn’t feel a need to reveal anything, or to focus on your feminine attributes. You just felt like it wouldn’t serve any purpose. As long as Baekhyun was concerned, you had an impression that he’s more interested in your mind than in the way you look – the clothes you wore last time, just a little bit revealing and suggestive, had done nothing to save you. You wanted only to look appropriate, and you were sure you managed to achieve at least that.

As you found out soon enough, he wasn’t particularly dressed up, either. A button-up shirt without without a tie – bow or neck type – and jeans, made of high-quality denim, not like the ripped through or worn out ones people sometimes wore. And a suede coat. Although he wasn’t dressed up to look attractive, it would be difficult not to feel attracted to him. Byun Baekhyun had his own aura of independence and considerate distance connected with subtle proximity, and this time, you had the chance to appreciate this harmony, working perfectly for him, highlighting his soft masculinity. Even more so, when you noted a small, gentle smile that appeared on his lips when he spotted you leaving your apartment block.

“Hi there” he spoke.

“Hi there” you replied.

“The museum is nearby, so I didn’t take the car, is that okay?”

It was probably too late to change the means of transport anyway, so the question was pointless. But no, you didn’t mind.

“It’s okay. What museum are we going to?”

He put hands in the pockets of his coat and tilted his head to the side, observing as you approached. You crossed your hands over your chest; it was a bit colder than you expected, and the skirt only warmed you up at the bottom, the wind still reached the top.

“You should put on something warmer. It’ll get even colder on the way back” he spoke. “Go back and get yourself a jacket, I’ll wait.”

You wanted to oppose and say it’s alright, but you didn’t; it didn’t feel right to argue with him. You only nodded and went home to retrieve a better outwear; you were back in no time.

“So? Which museum?”

You looked up at Baekhyun: the man walked by your side, or – in fact – you were walking by his; he stayed in control of the situation, but resonated with warmth and peacefulness rather than the coldness and stillness you experienced last time. And especially as he spoke, you found yourself easing into the conversation more naturally, and your initial fear quickly turned into innocent shyness upon the older man’s presence.

“A complex of museums nearby. There’s everything there, a historical museum of the region, one about the history of mining worldwide, and an art museum. I wanted to see the last one, I heard they unveiled a few new pieces since the the last time I went. You’re not local?” He glanced at you with polite curiosity.

“Not really. I moved here to study” you explained. “I know the nearby area, but I’m not too… um, social. I only know where to do the cheapest groceries and where they sell the best bread.”

“Where?”

“Behind the river, by the intersection with the highway. It looks small but really, you should try it out. Especially their cinnamon rolls.”

Baekhyun hummed.

“That sounds nice. I can recommend the best pizza in return.”

“You eat takeouts often?”

“Yep.”

“You’d save money if you cooked for yourself. Pizzas are expensive.”

Another warm laugh reached your ears, and through them, your heart as well.

“I’ll save money if I spend the time for cooking on working instead.”

“Okay, that’s a valid point. But homemade food is healthier.”

“Depends on where you buy your takeout.” He seemed to have an answer to your every doubt. “I wouldn’t trust just any restaurant, you know? It’s basically what my diet consists of.”

“Variety is also important. Don’t argue with me on that.”

“I won’t. But I won’t take you for a pizza, if that’s your stance on that.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want it” you remarked right away; he replied with laugh, which you found yourself copying naturally.

The conversation flowed smoothly, reaching more or less unimportant topics: the city life, current events, your university, possible career, Baekhyun’s interests – you found out he likes music; it’s too sad to work in silence – and the museum you were going to.

The place you felt initially quite neutral about, brought you more peace than you expected it to. It looked harmonious and the lights were soft. No one hurried through the gallery, and the paintings, although not so interesting at first, you soon learned to appreciate, trying to catch onto small details that, you could tell, Baekhyun already knew by heart, but he smiled every single time you pointed at something specific that caught your attention, even if it was as silly as matching colors, or realistically portrayed lights – these were your favorites.

And, slowly but surely, you got accustomed to the pretty sights, excitement turning into relaxation, and even Baekhyun himself seemed more content than you thought he’d be in your presence.

“You’re different,” you spoke as the two of you sat on a bench in front of one of the tall, monumental pieces; this one was a modern painting full of splashes and mixed colors, soft browns, yellows, and greens, so big that it definitely wouldn’t fit in your bedroom – the first thought you had upon seeing its size.

Despite the painting being in the very center of the gallery, you were the only ones watching it now.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re different today than you were yesterday” you elaborate. “Less… intimidating” you tried to put your thoughts into words.

Baekhyun laughed in response; the laughter was soft and warm, which made you exhale in relief – you feared that he’d feel offended at the remark.

“Yesterday was different. I needed to test you.”

“What do you mean?”

He stared at the painting as he leaned forward, resting elbows on his knees and shifting a little bit, probably thinking how to say the thing he had to say, without causing misunderstandings. You stared at him, completely having lost interest in the painting by now, ready to hear out whatever was to be spoken.

“People often come to me because they’re attracted to me. Well, not blaming them” he grinned; you rolled your eyes a little, but it did relieve the tension, most likely according to his own intention. “However, I’m not interested in romantic relationships. If you come to me expecting a date, you’ll get disappointed. And you won’t be able to handle what it is truly about, if I’m the only thing keeping you interested. It’ll be a hassle for the both of us.”

He glanced at you only briefly, ensuring that you’ve heard him so far before shifting his eyes back forward.

“So I’m always like this at first, just to see how determined you are, and how you behave under pressure. Then I leave you for a few minutes so you have the time to reconsider and leave if willing. That’s a safety measure for you.” He stopped for just a few seconds. “And you – all of you – always check what’s on the other side of the sheet. That’s a safety measure for me.”

“Safety measure?”

“Trust is the basis of the whole deal. If you don’t admit, that you looked at it, it means you’ll keep hiding things later on as well, and I can’t have that.”

“So if I…”

“Yes. If you didn’t correct your statement, we wouldn’t be here right now.” The words sounded ominous even despite the calm tone that Baekhyun used.

“I understand.”

You actually did; the strange aura of yesterday’s meeting finally started to clear out, leaving the simplest facts that all fit into the bigger picture. Yet, you still didn’t know enough. There were more things, more questions, each of which demanded an answer of its own. However, you were still unsure of your stance, and of what Baekhyun had planned for you – for the both of you.

“Will you accept me, then?” you asked finally, breaking through the silence.

“I don’t know yet” he replied in an honest tone, finally reciprocating your gaze. His features were soft, you could tell, he tried not to hurt you with his words. “You’re a nice girl, but I’m not sure if it’ll work out. I need more time. Primarily, I need to get to know you better. And I feel like you need more time, too.”

You nodded slowly.

“Could you, um… tell me more about it?”

“About what I do?”

“Yeah. You didn’t tell me much last time. You mostly only asked questions.”

“True. I may answer some of yours, if you’d like. What are you interested in?”

You cleared your throat; some questions seemed more intrusive than the others and you preferred to leave them for later.

“What would you want to do with me, if we set up a um… a scene?” Is that how you professionally call it? You didn’t remember all that well; you were, in fact, with no experience, only the Internet and your own curiosity to lead you forward – the temptation to explore your interests had been progressing in silence up until now.

“Well, depends on what would be suitable. I do different things with different people. Sometimes, it’s about what they like, and sometimes about what I like, and, the most often, it’s about what we both like. Everyone needs a different approach. I enjoy finding the right approach, and exploring it. It’s different when you start with a virgin, different when you start with a brat, different when you start with someone experienced, different when you start with someone with trauma. The last type is a person I don’t like engaging in. It’s a vulnerable ground and the person often seeks relief instead of therapy. I’m not a therapist. I’m a dominant.”

You took your time to analyze his words and put them all together in your head before you spoke again.

“You wrote something like that on the sheet. That I may have trauma.”

“That’s different,” Baekhyun was quick to elaborate. “Everyone has trauma of sort. Childhood traumas are more common than you think. I meant specifically trauma that comes from similar ground as the one I’m on. It’s not the case for you. According to what you said, you’ve never had any experiences like this and never engaged sexually or romantically.”

Pointing that out hurt a little; yes, so what if you’re 24 years old and a virgin? You had the right to choose your pace. But, you quickly realized, it was your own insecurity poking at you, because Baekhyun sounded anything but judgmental. He didn’t seem particularly impressed either – and you were thankful for that as well. You’ve seen enough men sounding excited when a woman was discovered to be unexperienced. You hated that even more than those who made fun of you; and in the long run, you just learned not to overshare. Telling Baekhyun this truth wasn’t the easiest, so having him say it so casually was definitely weird in your ear.

“However, that’s also a vulnerable point. You don’t know what you’re getting into. It looks different on the screen or in the books than it is in real life. I’m not going to reject you just because you’re new, because everyone’s been at some point. But you must understand, it’s a responsibility, and I don’t want to take one I’m not capable of handling.”

“Have you ever been with someone else like that?”

“With a virgin?”

“…Yeah.”

“Yes. Once. But I didn’t handle it too well back then.”

“What do you mean?”

Baekhyun rubbed his chin, pressing his lips together in slight uneasiness. But you didn’t revoke your question – maybe you should have, for the sake of his comfort, but you felt that the answer wouldn’t be meaningless to you.

“She wanted to be exclusive,” the man finally answered. “I tolerated her for too long. I should have broken the deal as soon as I started seeing red flags, instead of ending up sleeping with her. It made everything only worse.” He spoke quietly, making sure people passing by at times would hear no word. You heard everything clearly, though. “That’s why I’m more picky now. Breaking the deal is not a good thing if it comes from one side. It may leave the other devastated, that’s why I’d rather reduce the risk in advance.”

He looked at your face, seeking understanding and acceptance. You nodded slowly, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible. You didn’t want to add to the pain already displayed on his own. But you appreciated his transparency.

“Does it mean that sex is not always involved?”

“With me, it rarely is” he admitted patiently. “I’m not against it, but I usually do other things. People rarely expect it, and I never pry. Mainly, because in this particular case, I do expect exclusivity. So, as long as no sex is involved, I know some of my subs are dating other people, or even engaging with other doms. However, for safety reasons I demand health checks prior to intercourse, and so on. Not just for me, but because I’m not exclusive myself.” You wondered if his choice of vocabulary was meant to make things less awkward. “However, actual sex is only one of the possibilities. Sexual pleasure that doesn’t involve direct touch may be used as a tool for training, for rewarding and for punishing, even as entertainment… not necessarily to the person it influences. As I said, it depends on who it’s done with. And it may take different forms, too. What’s your stance on that?”

“I don’t feel like I’d be able to as much as undress in front of someone who’s not my doctor” you answered almost instantly, the answer obvious to you, a matter you’ve thought about enough. “Although… well, I suppose it takes time. I’m not against the idea, just… you know.”

Baekhyun only nodded; you glanced at him, feeling a need for any reply that’d soothe you a little.

“I understand. That’s okay.”

You figured it out now; using more formal language made it less embarrassing to listen to. It’s like he tore the words off emotions and left facts only, and you found yourself easing into saying more and more, your embarrassment dissolving as well. No judgments were made.

“Is there anything else you want to know?”

“A lot, to be honest. But I think I know enough for now.”

Right as you said the last words, a sound echoed in the museum, in a soft female voice saying that the museum will close in fifteen minutes.

You took one last glance at the huge painting in front of you, but you felt like, at this point, you wouldn’t find anything new among the random stains and splatters. Baekhyun got up from his seat on the bench and so did you. You spotted him hide a small yawn behind his hand.

The day was coming to an end, and so was your small date – as un-date-ish as it could be.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: hope you're enjoying it so far! Trying to give it a bit sense before more things happen, and, hopefully, this chapter clears it out a little bit. Feel free to talk to me if anything is unclear!

Next (Chapter 2.)

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