#god i’m so excited to have finally drawn/outlined this!!!!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
happy mermay everyone — i’m so excited to finally share the fraphne mermaid au i’ve had on my mind since forever!!! 🩵💜
please see below the cut for an explanation of the basic premise! :D
daphne is the black sheep youngest daughter of a rich family. while staying at her parents’ lavish beach house for the summer, she spends her days exploring coastal caves, learning about local myths and searching for people to share her passions with. she has an unshakeable belief in the supernatural, and has been especially fond of mermaids ever since she was a child. as an aspiring mystery solver, she instantly goes to investigate when news spreads that fishing nets are going missing from boats, eventually leading her straight to the culprit — the real-life mermaid of her dreams.
fred is a lot like ariel from the little mermaid: he is fanatical about humanity and all the weird and wonderful objects they possess. he lives alone in an underwater cave, where he collects nets, scrap metal and all sorts of other items that have been dropped to the ocean floor. most commonly, he’ll find ways of combining the things he finds to create elaborate contraptions (to varying degrees of success). his relationship with daphne begins with him simply asking her to explain how certain objects work (like her flashlight and camera), but it eventually blooms into the true friendship that both have been needing all their life.
i plan to doodle and possibly write some more for this au in the future, but for now i really hope you like it! please feel free to ask questions or make suggestions if you like. :)
#god i’m so excited to have finally drawn/outlined this!!!!#it’s been living in my brain rent free for god knows how long#the rest of the gang will likely show up at some point in the story as well!! i’m still working out the details of that though#mermay#mermaid au#scooby doo#fred jones#daphne blake#fraphne#fraphne mermaid au#nem art :)#scooby doo and nemmet too!
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
Suptober day 3: inspired
Dean gets excited about making breakfast after morning-sex only for it to go embarrassingly awry. On AO3 or below the cut :)
Dean sighed contentedly as Cas rolled onto the bed beside him, dropping the towel onto the floor next to the bed. Dean adjusted his sweaty body, which was quickly becoming clammy in the cool air, to press against the soft, warm skin of Cas’s upper body that always radiated a gentle heat.
Now that Jack was god and no longer living in the Bunker, Sam being out on a case meant that Dean and Cas had the whole place to themselves. As much as Dean loved living with his brother, he knew better than to waste privacy when he got it, and he had passed that tenet along to Cas over the months after Sam had given him enough bitch face to last a life time.
Pressing a thoughtless kiss against Dean’s hairline, Cas grunted, “You need to eat breakfast. Do you want to go shower while I make it?”
Dean laughed gently, “Sunshine, after last time, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Dean’s mind drifted back to several weeks ago when Cas had attempted to make French toast before Dean got out of bed. He had awoken to the smell of smoke drifting from the kitchen and Sam loudly admonishing Cas for trying to burn the place down.
Cas frowned and began to protest before a sudden thought made Dean cut him off excitedly. “Wait!! I’ll make pancakes! It’s been forever since I got to make pancakes, but we have fresh eggs from the store finally so I should have all the ingredients and we can—“ Dean trailed off, “What?”
Cas’s frown had morphed into a bemused grin at Dean’s ramblings and he was staring at Dean as though nothing else in the world could be funnier or cuter. Cas gave Dean a kiss, firm and a little sloppy, and entirely drawn out, with a comical “mmmmwah” sound, before making a show of shoving Dean out of bed unceremoniously.
“Hey!” Dean rolled off the bed, giggling as he caught himself. “Fine, no more post-coital cuddling for you!”
Dean gathered up some combination of clothes from the floor where they had been scattered, quickly finding himself dressed in a pair of light blue flannel pajama pants (adorned with clouds wearing sun glasses) and a dark pink t-shirt from Cas’s closet that said “SWEET CHEEKS” on it, which Dean had acquired from a restaurant’s gift shop in Kentucky several hunts ago. He gave Cas a grin and a wink before grabbing his dead-guy robe from the back of the door and heading to the kitchen.
Dean’s mind wandered while he gathered ingredients for the pancakes, frequently going back to check the recipe— a torn out magazine page from an issue of Southern Lady that he had been thumbing through in a motel room while Sam was showering. As he dug through the pantry he came across a fresh squirt bottle from a pack he had gotten to store cooking oil in and had an idea.
—
Dean was proudly drawing the outline for his fifth penis shaped pancake into the pan, carefully adding veins to the curved length, when he heard a sound behind him in the kitchen. He turned to greet Cas, a huge grin on his face, only to have his expression turn to horror as his eyes settled on the person before him. He instinctively moved to put his body in front of the plate full of pancakes before slowly greeting the person before him.
“Morning, Jack.” Dean felt his whole face flushing bright red and he considered just asking Jack to smite him right then and there. “I can make you other pancakes, sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be in this morning…”
Jack looked entirely unfazed, as per usual, and was about to respond when Cas came around the corner saying “Smells good sweethea— Jack!!“
Dean’s eyes flicked over to Cas and he doubled down on his wish for Jack to smite him as he noticed Cas’s attire. Unaffected by the chilly winter air in the Bunker, Cas had opted for only a pair of pajama pants, leaving the broad expanse of his chest and his toned arms on full display. With a big smile, he strode towards his son, greeting him with a hug. Jack squeezed back, the two of them entirely unbothered by Cas’s lack of clothes, and paying no attention to Dean’s bright red face.
Just smite me…
Pulling back, Jack pointed past Dean and told Cas confidently, “Dean made pancakes that look like you!”
PLEASE FUCKING SMITE ME!!
“Oh did he? Well you know how inspiring I am…” Cas smirked as he moved to glance behind Dean’s back at the plate of pancakes.
Dean’s eyes stayed wide open even as his brain begged to shut them, watching as the metaphorical vehicles piled up and spontaneously combusted in this seemingly endless car wreck he couldn’t peel his eyes away from. He felt the moment that Cas made eye contact with the carefully crafted penis pancakes, seeing them in their veiny glory, and the air in the room went utterly still. Cas’s smirk dropped for a moment, causing Dean to simultaneously rejoice at not being the only one embarrassed and to redden further as Cas grasped the situation, but then Cas was suddenly doubled over laughing.
This was more than Dean could cope with.
Before he knew it though, he was doubled over too, laughing so hard that his ribs hurt, his eyes leaked, and he was hardly even making a sound as his lungs tried in vain to fill back up. They laughed and laughing, leaning against each other, and nearly collapsing onto the floor. Only minutes later when Dean had wiped away the tears streaming down his cheeks and mostly caught his breath did he think to look at Jack again, finding him with an eyebrow quirked and a slight smile, but otherwise entirely unmoved.
Dean turned around to revel in his work now that the tension had left his shoulders and, with a jolt of panic, realized he had completely neglected the pancake outline still on the pan. “Shit!”
He cringed as he attempted to pry it off the pan, listening to it crack and shatter into small burnt shards. Accepting his loss, he scraped it off of the pan with force and piled the soot into a small bowl to cool down before going in the trash can. Finally, he turned around to face the music once more.
“So, I’m the one who is too irresponsible to make breakfast…” Cas stated, giving Dean a smug look.
“I don’t wanna hear a goddamn thing, it’s not the same and you know it.” Dean defended, though he was already beginning to think that Cas might be right. He sighed, “What shape pancakes would you like Jack?”
Jack’s brow furrowed for a moment, thinking about it very deeply, before stating, resolutely, “Trapezoid.” He nodded as though confident in his answer before adding, “Please.”
Dean shook his head gently before putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder reassuringly, “You got it kid. Now go put the syrup and orange juice on the table while your dad goes to get a shirt.”
Jack hops over to the fridge happily and begins digging out the juice. Cas gives Dean another smug look before turning to go, but Dean grabs him by the wrist and pulls him in for a hug. Cas, surprised, wraps his hands around Dean’s waist before Dean whispers harshly in his ear, “I’m gonna enjoy these pancakes and then I am never going to hear another word about this, understood?”
Cas leans back and plants a quick kiss on Dean’s cheek, “Of course. Because Sam wouldn’t find this funny at all…”
With that, Cas turned and ran out of the kitchen laughing. “Oh you’re gonna get it now, buddy!” Dean hollered after him.
He turned back towards the stove with a shake of his head and a lingering smile before thinking to himself, what the fuck is a trapezoid???
#destiel fic#destiel#suptober23#destiel fluff#dadstiel#Castiel#dean winchester#Jack Kline#spn 15x20? what 15x20?#Dean reads housewife magazines#embarrassed dean#Jack is unaware of human customs#Cas is a bit of a shit#dick shaped food tastes better#Dean Winchester laughs#deancas
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Finally watching episode 9 so here are some live notes:
•Aiden falling over when Tess gave him the water bucket was a peak visual gag
•Alec??? Alec hello???
•Yul with Kai’s shirt…toxic yaoi scraps…
•Oh my god fuck this guy
•Grett you poor baby holy shit???
•LETS GO RIYA GO OFF QUEEN
•Riya looked up to Grett omg…
•FUCK HIM UP ALEC oh my god I hate Yul Grett needs to dump his sorry ass
•I don’t really know how I feel about how they’re portraying Gabby’s mental health. Idk it’s just kinda off
•I love Jake but how much longer are we going to do this TomJake subplot fuck me it’s so boring
•The Ally and Jake beef is kinda sucky too. Also what’s Jake been doing for the last nine episodes if not trying to improve? Wh
•Jake I could fix you
•Tom’s totally lying about his boyfriend huh
•YEP okay
•Also Aiden and Tom bonding over their scars is kinda cute
•Tom still thinks about him??? Okay we’re getting somewhere I’ll let them cook
•Emily I love you so much Emily. Trevor too. Power friendship
•Girl why are you eating a raw carrot. Creature
•I’m still sad that we didn’t get any real Jake/Ellie interactions after they set up a rivalry between them in season one. Come on. Toxic friends. Or rivals who can’t let go of a past platonic bond
•When are we going to get a non-elimination episode it’s been like eight eliminations in a row now I think
•Jake…buddy…
•FUCK EM UP GRETT
•“Ok ok I’m sorry” immediately when Ashley tells him what to do. He’s such a lapdog I love him
•TESSALLY CRUMBS
•JAKE!! FUCK YEAH KILL HIM!! HE’S SO BACK!!
•I’m so proud of him
•Tom <3 I don’t really like him this season but he’s still my cutie patootie yk
•ALLY BABYGIRL YOU DID IT
•Can you guys tell who my favorite team is yet
•I feel like Gabby isn’t really acting villainous yet. Kinda let down on that front tbh
•Yul kinda seems vaguely attracted to Tom
•If Riya goes home…
•Why has no one voted for Yul yet
•Sorry but when did Grett like make up with Gabby? Wouldn’t it make sense for Gabby to still hold a grudge against her for season one? She holds grudges, we know she does, she did it in season one and she’s doing it now
•Listen I get Gabby’s anger but Tess, Aiden, and Tom are right like all of these people would betray Gabby at any other point given the chance and Alec fucked Ellie over multiple times
•Man I miss their friendship actually
•IF RIYA GOES HOME…
•OH MY GOD IS IT TESS
•FUCK
•ONC stop voting off some of your strongest characters before the merge challenge fuck off I’m so sick of these eliminations
•Gabby kinda ate tho
•“Someone say bye to Ally for me” sobbing
•Gabby you’re so babygirl I’m going to miss your friendship with Tom so much
•OLIVER’S BACK
•Wait are Tom and Jake going to talk next episode then? I mean I guess I’m excited but…also not really because it’s probably going to end how it always does. With them just moping and not resolving anything. Augh
Overall the episode was okay I guess? Animation is wonderful as always but I’m really sick of the same like three plot threads being drawn out and of an interesting character going home every single episode without being fully developed beforehand. I feel like the writers— as much effort and love as they’re putting in— aren’t very organized and could use a lore Bible or a clearer outline, because some plots and character arcs are just dropped randomly, and some aren’t resolved in a very sensible or well-paced fashion. That’s not to say the writing is entirely bad, the writers clearly have some good ideas and the dialogue gets better every episode, but I think they need to balance the story better and plan out what they’re going to do with each character more effectively— it would also be nice to have some more relationships between characters instead of each character having 1-2 focal relationships with a few vague allies or enemies outside of that, considering how much time we have left with the season still. But that’s just a matter of preference on my end, I <3 complex relationship webs.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Warm | Tom Holland Smut
warnings ↠ nsfw, 18+ ! this is just some very loving c*ckwarming with sleepy boyfriend tom, ft unprotected sex and oral (fem receiving)
word count ↠ a wholesome 3k
a/n ↠ got inspired by the ig live yesterday and whipped up a lil something to satisfy the devil in me. let me know what you think!
The material of Tom’s hoodie is soft against your cheek, and as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, it feels as though the weight of the world is rolling from your shoulders. His hands are on your waist, tucked beneath the hem of your t-shirt and resting gently over the curves of your hips. As you hum against his shoulder, you feel him shift his fingers, tracing delicate, circular patterns over your skin.
“Your hoodie is so soft,” you mumble against him, punctuating the words with a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Tom squeezes your sides, bringing his lips to the top of your head where he leaves a lingering kiss to your hairline. “Wish we could stay like this forever.”
One of his hands moves away from your waist, drifting up to cup the back of your head. As Tom’s nimble fingers rest over your hair, he uses his other arm to pull you closer. It’s a lazy Sunday morning, both of you tangled up in sweats and comfy clothes, and the feeling of his warm body pressed against yours makes you sigh contentedly.
“We can stay like this all day?” Tom offers. He slowly strokes over the back of your head, the gesture full of a gentle tenderness you’d missed. He’s been so busy recently, with filming and press engagements, that it’s been a while since you’ve had time to exist like this. Two people, curled up together, wrapped up in dizzying love. “Missed you so much this week, darling.”
You smile against his neck and finally pull back so you can look at him properly. You’re resting over Tom’s thighs, straddling his green sweats comfortably, and your position gives you the perfect opportunity to get a lovely, long look at your boyfriend’s face. With his pink hood drawn up around his head, you can make out a few strands of his brown hair, long and a little shiny, and you find your fingers drawn towards them. You reach up, smiling at his tut of disapproval as you gently knock the hood down, revealing his bed of messy, chestnut curls.
“Missed you too,” you finally reply, carding a hand through his hair. With your other fingers, you reach out to cup his cheek, grinning as he presses his face into your palm. Tom’s got his eyes wide and flooded with gentle love, and it makes you melt. This man has you wrapped around his little finger. “Missed a lot of things about you, actually.”
“Yeah?” Tom’s lips quirk into a lazy smirk as he draws you a little nearer. He smells faintly of cologne. “Like what?”
“Oh, you know…” As you muse, you let your index finger wander down the bridge of his nose, tracing over the light freckles. “Missed hearing your lovely voice. It always sounds so raspy in the morning like this.” You lean in to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “And I missed your hugs. God, Tom, you give the best hugs.” As if to prove your point, Tom tightens his grip around you. “Missed your lips, too.”
“Oh, you did, did you?” He’s got that cheeky glint in his eyes, and you nod your head immediately. “I think they missed you too, love. Why don’t you pay them a visit?”
The snort that leaves your mouth is a loud burst of twisted sound, but it makes Tom’s smile grow wider. You wind both arms around his neck and shuffle closer, finally bridging the distance and nuzzling your mouth against his.
Kissing Tom has to be one of your favourite things ever. The way your lips meld together, dancing in sync as he presses against you with eager force always makes your heart race, no matter how long you’ve been together. His lips are warm and gentle, and as they meet with yours in a lazy exploration of mutual enjoyment, you find yourself melting against him. His hands are back on your hips, and they roam the expanse of your naked back as his tongue flicks into your mouth, causing you to groan softly. When he drags his fingers up and discovers your lack of bra, he’s quick to shift his palms around to the front of your body, holding the curves of your breasts in each hand.
“I bloody love you,” he murmurs, speaking against your lips. The pads of his thumbs brush over your nipples and you gasp into his mouth, careening further into his touch. “You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, lovie.”
You kiss him with a little more intensity, your heart fluttering in response to his sweet, sweet sentiment. It’s early - the both of you had only woken up a half-hour ago - so Tom’s voice is strained and raspy. The sound of his husky tones brings a thrill of excitement to the heat between your legs.
As his tongue explores your mouth and your fingers tangle in his hair, you become aware of a building pressure pushing up against your sweats. You start to grind down against him, enjoying both the friction it provides to your clit and also the way the movement draws deep, desperate whines from Tom.
“You wanna know a secret?” You ask him, pulling away to pant in his ear. When Tom hums, you kiss his earlobe. “Think I might’ve missed your cock, too.”
His chuckle rumbles into the air. “Is that so?” Tom’s hands slip away from your chest, and they anchor down your hips. You hum as he guides you, pushing you further against his crotch as your centres meet. You can feel the outline of his length straining up against you, and the sensation makes you grin. “I’ve missed being inside your tight little pussy.” He leaves a kiss just behind your ear, right over a patch of sensitive skin. “Maybe we should do something about that?”
You almost whine as you nod, eagerly reaching down to release the drawstrings of his sweats. In return, Tom pulls free your own, and there’s a moment of shuffling around as you sit up and carefully wriggle out of both your trousers and your panties, Tom bundling them up and folding them into a neat pile beside him. Once you’re settled, you reach beneath the waistband of Tom’s sweats and pull his full member free, all whilst his hot lips trail up and down the column of your neck.
There’s no burning desperation to your movements as you slowly work one another up. Rather, it’s gentle. Soft caresses, tender lips, whispered words of praise. You’re kissing him as you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, and he’s swallowing your moans with his tongue when two of his fingers slip into your slick pussy and work you open. It’s loving and familiar as he crooks his fingertips and nudges up against your g-spot, stimulating your passage until you’re bucking down against him, your movements distracted as your cunt drips for him.
“Need you inside me,” you moan out, a slight pull to your voice. You whimper as Tom’s hot fingers slip out from inside you, and then gasp when he uses his wet fingertips to rub over your clit. The bud pulses and you almost lose it, but a panging in your cunt reminds you of your overwhelming desire to have him inside you. “Tom,” you whine, skimming your thumb over his weepy tip, “Stop teasing.”
Tom growls into your ear, but he reluctantly moves his fingers away from you. He meets your eyes as he very purposefully brings his hand to his mouth and makes a show of licking his digits clean, moaning softly as he does it.
“Delicious,” he decides. When you throw him a light scowl, he grabs you by the hips and brings you nearer. “Now,” he says, dropping his voice. His hand joins yours on his cock, and together you guide his head through your slit. You let Tom do the hard work, whimpering quietly as he lines his tip with your entrance. “How about we take care of this little problem, eh?”
Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you slowly, slowly lower yourself over him, tossing your head back as you adjust to the stretch. Tom’s lips move over your neck, sucking a soft hickey to your skin, anchoring you down. The sensation of his member settling deep inside you after so long makes you grab fistfuls of his hoodie, your knuckles tightening around it as you gasp softly.
“Fuck,” you murmur, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You’re fully seated now, and you can feel every ridge and line of his cock pushed up against your walls, as if in high definition. Everything is amplified, and the longer you sit there wrapped up in his arms and with his lips now dusting over your temple, the closer to Tom you feel. “I love you,” you whimper, voice breathless.
Tom runs his hands over your back, soothing you with large circles of his palms. “Love you too, darling,” he mumbles. He shifts a little on the sofa, and you moan as the head of his cock brushes deeper. “Feel so warm ‘n snug around me.”
You feel yourself clench at his words, and make a very conscious decision to loosen up. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you pull yourself away from the crook of Tom’s neck, pouting a little as the soft fabric of his hoodie leaves your face.
“Do you want to stay like this for a little bit?” You ask, eyes skimming his beautiful face. Your heart fills with appreciation for the man as you pick up all the small details that make him so attractive to you: the worn curves of his nose, the splattering of sun-kissed freckles over his cheeks, the ruffled hairs of his eyebrow. Your thumb absently moves up to his eyebrow and you draw your touch across it, feeling the soft hairs with your finger and sighing as you admire him.
“How long?”
You crane your neck back, glancing briefly at the paused TV. “‘Til the end of the show? Should be about ten minutes.” You move your hand into his hair, feeling the silky strands fall past your fingers. “Just wanna feel close to you.”
Tom presses his lips to the tip of your nose, drawing a loose giggle from you. “Alright,” he agrees. He drops his voice as he shifts his mouth back to your ear, hot breath flushing over your neck as he adds, quieter, “I’m going to wreck you afterwards, though.”
A shiver passes through you, and your hum mixes with the sounds of the TV as Tom immediately unpauses the programme. You can’t see the screen from where you’re sitting, but you turn down Tom’s offer to reposition. The show is the last thing on your mind, and you’re glad you’re not distracted by it.
For you, there’s nothing more fulfilling than hiding your face into your boyfriend’s shoulder and feeling him everywhere. Hands on your sides, caressing you and drawing you closer. His lips softly passing over the top of your head. His length, plugging you up to the hilt. Each time one of you shifts, you release a quiet whimper as arcs of pleasure roll up your spine, and when you clench in response, Tom grunts. There’s something so easily private about it: no end goal but just to enjoy one another, and spend this quiet moment holed up in each other’s arms.
You’ve never felt this loved before, and it brings a lump to your throat.
“You okay?” Tom asks, shifting a hand to hold the back of your head. You hum, tilting your face to the side so you can kiss the point behind his ear.
“Yeah. Just really love you.”
His eyes flicker down to meet yours, flooding with concern when he notes the tears spread thinly over your eyes. “You’re so precious,” he lilts, his accent twanging prominently. He brings you nearer, kissing your forehead in several spots. “I’m going to marry you one day.”
You kiss him, letting your hand travel up to rest against his cheek. “Good,” you whisper against him. There’s a dizzying moment where you just look at him, his eyes mirroring yours, flooded deep with gratitude that rocks you to your bones. You feel safe wrapped up in his arms, and as the music for the credits drifts through the air, you find yourself exhaling. “Show’s over.”
“Lay down for me, love.”
You whimper when you feel his length slide from you, your cunt feeling cold and empty without him, but he kisses at your pout until it fades away. Tom follows you down onto the couch cushions, caging you in with an arm either side your head. After a moment, you feel his cock sliding through your slit again, pressing up against your clit in a way that makes you moan.
“I can taste myself on your tongue,” you admit, pulling away from a deep kiss with a perplexed expression on your face.
“Fucking lovely, isn’t it?” Tom gains a rather mischievous look on his face. “Actually…”
He pulls away before you can grab him to stay, and Tom slips down between your legs with a cheeky smirk on his lips.
“Tom,” you whine, scrunching your nose. “I want you.”
“In a minute.” He presses your knees apart and leaves a soft kiss to the inside of one of your thighs. “Patience, my darling girl.”
You try your best to look unimpressed, but it’s very difficult to maintain the rouse as he draws his tongue through your slit. You reach down to grip at his hair, pulling him closer as he trails his mouth all over you. He moans straight against your sopping folds, teasing your clit with his tongue as he slides two fingers back into you, exploring your wet heat eagerly.
“Tom,” you cry out, your back arching off the sofa. His free hand immediately goes to your side, pushing you back down and keeping you in place as his mouth explores you. Noises of your wet arousal fill the air as he sucks over your clit, teasing you, edging you until you’re whimpering. “C’mon, Tom, don’t wanna cum like this. Need to be full of you.”
When he pulls back, Tom runs the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the shine of your slick and his spit combined. He cracks a smile when he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, pulling up until he’s hovering above you once more. One of his hands caresses your leg before loosely opening it up, and the other rests over your hair near your head. He kisses you softly.
“Are you ready?” He asks.
“Yes,” you whimper, pressing down against him to prove your point. Your voice twists into a gasp as Tom slips into you, the movement easy and slick. Your fingers grip at the back of his hoodie as he rocks against you, your cunt squeezing around him as you take him wholly. “Shit.”
Tom nips at your necks, strands of his hair rubbing up against your hot skin. “So fucking perfect,” he murmurs. He pulls out before fucking back into you with a deep, slow thrust. “Fuck, you’re such an angel.” He leaves another kiss to your neck as he gradually quickens his pace. “My angel, aren’t you?”
You pull him back up, meeting his mouth in response. As you kiss him, his hand on your thigh shifts up and intertwines with one of yours, your fingers tangling as the rest of your bodies do, too. You’re grateful for the contact - keeping you anchored together like an emotional tether, a constant reminder of your love.
Everything about the moment feels so intimate, his pace slow but still fulfilling. Each time Tom thrusts his hips to meet yours, you feel him in you deep, nudging against those spots only he could reach. Each rut presses you one step closer to heaven, and your praises come out garbled, dissolving into his mouth as his lips caress you, tender and warm.
Tom pulls away after minutes of deep kissing to stare at you, brown eyes full of warmth. “I’m so lucky,” he stammers out, voice strained. You widen your leg, granting him easier access, and both of you groan as the position lets him in deeper. You can feel that telltale warmth building in the pit of your stomach. “Love of my life, you are. You and your- fuck, your perfect little pussy.” His cheeks are red as he kisses your jaw. “Can’t wait to fuck you for the rest of my life, love.”
His words ignite something inside you that goes much deeper than superficial pleasure, and you find yourself clinging to him, gripping his hand with renewed strength as your other twists down between your bodies. Your fingertips connect with your clit, and you glide them over the bud, moaning louder as you feel your orgasm jerk closer.
“Cum in me,” you find yourself saying, eyes trained on the spot between your legs where Tom’s cock meets with your cunt. “Wanna feel you fill me up.”
His head finds the crook of your neck, sweaty forehead pushing up against your skin as he grunts. “I’m not going to last much longer.”
“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand as you gasp for breath. “I’m close.”
Tom peaks a few moments later, and the action of his guttural groans spilling into the air coupled with the way his cock pulses as he empties his load inside you makes you spasm over the edge too. You whimper as you orgasm, a throbbing warmth spreading across you as Tom kisses your neck over and over, his fingers gripping yours tightly as you enjoy the high together, basking in it. Your mouth hangs half-open as you vocalise your climax, your body on fire as he fucks you through it, the moment spanning a short infinity.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, finally stilling. He stays nudged up inside you as he sits up, supporting his weight on his arms, your hands still joined. Tom kisses you passionately, and you feel him smile against your lips as you kiss him back. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”
You bring your free hand up to his head, pushing his hair out from his face as you cup his cheek, looking into his captivating brown eyes. You look at him, and you know that there’s no safer vessel for your heart. You know he’s the love of your life.
“Love you too,” you say, pausing to kiss him between each word. By the end, both of you are smiling. “You know you’re still in me, yeah?”
Tom chuckles, nodding. “Yeah.” He kisses your nose. “You’re warm.”
-
------
yeah you could say im soft for hoodie!tom...
masterlist linked in bio !
please let me know if you’ve got any thoughts :D askbox is always open; feel free to rb/comment (pls)
stay safe my lovely pals <3
#keyword tonight is: soft#can you tell i missed tom...? lmao#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland#my writing#y/n#y/n use#self insert#self-insert#smut
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
[12:47am] jyn, cjh
TW: shower sex, threesome, no clear dom or sub dynamics, oral male reciving, gn! reader, idk man, also I used "bet" in a sexy way.
-
The whole room felt like a sauna. Condensation stuck the mirror and steam were flooding through the cracks in the shower curtains.
Yunho held you against the tile in the shower underneath the water, his lips were latched onto yours in a kiss almost as hot as the room around you and his dick was fully sheathed inside you. Maybe fucking wouldn't be the correct word. It was more like grinding. He was barely pulling out during his thrust, instead, he using his grip on your hips to force himself deeper inside you. You were both being rather obscene with your noises. Loud moans, groans, and whoppers echoed around the washroom, and Yunho's hips met yours with enough force to shake the wall behind you. It was inevitable that someone would have an issue with it.
"Oh my God! Yunho if you don't be quiet I'm going to get in there and pull you both apart myself!" You heard Jonghos distinctive voice call just as the door swung open. Yunho broke your kiss and looked at you with a mischievous glance, a smirk playing at his lips. His hips snapped into yours one again and the clearest moan of the evening tumbled past your lips, head falling back onto the tile. The shower curtain was still drawn but it was quite sheer. Jongho could easily see the outline of your meshed bodies.
"Don't think I won't Yunho" Jongho threatened again. Yunho giggled.
"Close the door Jongho," he said through his chuckle, though still not letting up on his pace. And to your surprise, control the younger boy complied and you lived heard the door click shut though over your boyfriend's shoulder you could still see his outline in the room.
You were trying to controll your noises. Not because you were shy, simply because it seemed like Jongho was legitimately upset. Yunho clearly didn't care, as when he reconnected your lips you clenched ever so slightly against his length and he groaned into your mouth as loud as ever.
"I sware to fucking-"
"Jongho, if you could feel what I do right now you wouldn't be able to shut up either."
Silence. Well kinda, a very distinct sound of skin sleeping could still be heard.
"Bet" the younger man called.
In an instant, Yunho had stopped moving and put you down on wobbling feet. The sudden emptiness left something to be desired but the dangerous glint in your boyfriend's eyes was enough to keep you interested. You weren't shy, not in the slightest. Was this uncharted territory? Definitely. But if this is going exactly where you thought it was you had no problems with that.
A moment later Yunho has pulled back the curtain. You were still mostly covered behind your boyfriend's body, and Jongho stood at the edge of the shower with his arms crossed and face determined, seemingly unbothered by your naked bodies in front of him dripping water. He and Yunho shared a deep almost challenging look, and by looking at his side profile you saw Yunho crack a smile.
"Fine then." He looked over his shoulder at you, "what do you say, sweetheart, wanna settle a bet?" You glanced over at the boy, eyes raking over his determined face as he met your gaze.
"I have no problem with that," you giggled. In a moment Jongho had pulled his clothes off his body and was stepping into the scorching water. You half expect him to be on the shy side, but right now he was oozing with confidence, and it was well deserved he looked great.
Yunho pulled you around him to face the boy and urged you onto your knees.
"I'm not just gonna let you fuck my baby, but they sure can use their mouth." He spoke affectionately petting your head. You looked up at Jongho with a smirk, and if it weren't for the excited glint hidden in his eyes and the hard dick in front of your face you would almost think he was unimpressed. Oh, how you were going to change that.
"Get going then," he demands expectantly. You reached out and took the hard length in your hand. The steaming water allowed you to easily glide your hand up and down, barely grazing the surface. You turned to your boyfriend and with one last cheeky nod, you set to work.
Today wasn't the day to tease. So opened your lips and took the length as far down as you could in one movement and swallowed. You heard Jongho's breath hitch but no noise escaped him, no good.
Pulling back up, your two hands wrapped around the base of his cock, pumping it slowly as you lower your lips to him again. This time wrapping them tightly around his tip and sucking. At this, the tiniest hint of noise came from the back of his throat.
"What was that?" Yunho chided, pushing your head further down. You made a garbled noise at the unexpected action, but regained yourself quickly and swirled your tongue around as much of his length ad you could.
"Nothing-g"
It would almost have been convincing save for that last little stutter. You increased your grip on the base, pumping it slowly. You hollowed out your cheeks and bobbed your head up and down the rest, leaving trails of saliva up and down his dick.
Although you were clearly wearing on him, you still had yet to receive the exact response you were looking for, when a sudden idea popped into your head. You pulled off of Jongho completely, save for one hand still gripping the base of his cock as hard as you could. And finally, a strangled moan left his lips.
Yunho chuckled, and you smirked satisfied.
"Not fair" he panted after a moment. And in response, your tongue came down and slid from the base to the tip, then roughly through the slit on his cock. He shuddered a gasp.
"Is that fairer?" You asked.
176 notes
·
View notes
Text
I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 16
The Chapter is finally out my Guardians 🐉
Chapter 16 : In the deepest memories of the last of the dragons
My hands would follow their path taken for several minutes, forming various abstract forms of their weak caresses. Many chills arose from time to time with my fingers when I explored new areas but no protest was ever heard, which prompted me to venture out again and again, savoring this almost suspended moment in time.
Blinking hard with white lids in the dim daylight streaming through the curtains, my gaze fell for a moment on the long locks that partially obscured Lance's sleeping face. With his head resting on my bare chest, he didn't seem to want to wake up from his deep sleep, an arm slung over my request now firmly pressed against him.
I directed my caresses a little higher until I reached a scaly area on his shoulder. Fascinated, I drew each outline as if to come to memorize them, surprised to feel them vibrate with each passage of my fingers.
It had been some time since I realized one thing. One thing who, each time he let me see it, filled my heart a little more with new feelings.
More and more often in my presence, Lance seemed to forget his barriers. So sometimes the young man let an infinite number of improbably colored scales run over his skin while, at other times, his ice ran through my body without any logic, drawing complex and involuntary shapes. I’m always surprised at the sweetness of these manifestations, yet they are born of a raw, primitive nature. Because despite his human appearance, Lance was nonetheless a dragon whose instincts he had and, beyond the brutality that accompanied some, I loved to see him let go. I had the impression that in those rare moments when the barrier between his two forms was weakening, he could finally relax, really be himself.
But to share with him this moment of physical intimacy In purely instinctive outbursts, he loved to mark me with his presence, ranging from his powers to his scent and at times, to his claws. Lance had been unintentionally brutal at times, but was it strange if I admitted that I absolutely loved every moment ?
The dragon pulled me out of my reveries, stirring lightly. Lifting his face with still sleeping features, he arched an eyebrow as he analyzed the situation, his gaze drifting over our still naked bodies. My breath quickened as one of his hands lingered on the slope of my hip as his eyes were already dark with desire. Without warning, he tightened his embrace and rocked over me. His long hair tickled my face as he leaned down to explore every inch of my neck, making me moan in spite of myself with languor.
- Hello, my angel, he said in a hoarse voice against my skin.
I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders as a weary smile stretched my lips.
- Hello, my great dragon.
Lance laughed in the crook of my collarbone as he let his icy hands rest on my thighs, causing goose bumps to grow in the grooves of his palms. His lips entered the slope of my jaw, and when they finally met mine, it was with some authority that he lifted my legs on either side of his narrow hips.
We kissed for a long time, our tongues meeting without delay to deepen our embrace. Between my legs, I felt him pulsing more and more vigorously, increasing with maddening speed the desire that had not left me.
- You do well not to forget in whose arms you find, he amused himself in a voice with a much deeper sound than usual.
I dug my nails vigorously into his muscular back as his hips pushed against my lower abdomen.
- How could I, exactly ? I questioned him with difficulty, so much the least of his gestures obsessed me. You don't really help me forget it...
- It's true that I can't keep my human form completely, with you.
- I don't mind, you know, I said with a laugh.
A gentle smile lit up his face, which features often so harsh. In a light mood, the dragon lifted my chin with his fingers to orient my face in his direction. I plunged without hesitation into his eyes which had occupied all my thoughts for several weeks.
Becoming serious again, we didn’t say the least for several long seconds, we observe with a heavy look of meaning.
- Andraste...
I knew what was going on in his head.
We.
Our relationship, our past, our present... To be in each other's arms was absurd, totally unconventional and we were both deeply aware of it. What would become of each other once we got out of this room ?
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing we could become for each other. And we knew it.
Deciding to stop our respective paths of thought, I crossed the short distance between us, feverishly pressing my lips against his. I kissed him with anger, despair, envy. I placed my fears in those powerful hands that encircled my hips, those greedy lips that devoured mine as if to come and seek some breath. I needed to feel him losing control, needed to drown in his eyes that screamed at me that they loved me.
Or at least, during these short, resolutely forbidden moments.
- Please, don't say anything, I said between two kisses, starting to move my pelvis against his. We'll have plenty of time to worry about this later.
Seeming to consider my words at first, Lance suddenly planted one of his hands on my hip as I shifted more and more vigorously under his weight that crushed me. Not giving me time to think, he shamelessly slipped two fingers inside me without ever taking my eyes off suddenly feverish. Reaching my guard, he stirred slowly but confidently, torturing me with his thumb a little higher. My God, I had never wanted someone so much, I was sure.
Each of his movements made a myriad of sensations explode in the pit of my stomach, making me turn my head with his precise gestures. My pelvis quickly accompanies his fingers, guiding them silently while each of my moans is found drawn to his lips. When a multitude of stars erupted in my field of vision, I firmly grabbed his throat as he led me over the edge of the precipice without warning.
As I lost ground, I noticed with a blank eye that my light was diffused into him. Starting from the base of his neck just under my palm, it illuminated him tanned skin with its bright, warm colors. In this story, it wasn't Lance who lost control the most.
I think it was me.
Not that I ever really had control over my powers, that would have been lying. But I no longer control anything. My emotions, my fears, my desires; I was constantly jostled, tossed about between everything.
When the dragon in turn realized that I was marking him without permission with my light, he groaned in satisfaction before promptly removing his fingers from my privacy. I didn't have time to figure out what was happening to me as I already found myself astride him, Lance having grabbed me to reverse our places, his hands feverishly running my back as his tongue attacked my chest. Tilting my head back, I let his hungry mouth move up to my ear, biting my skin with his suddenly sharper teeth until it slightly marked me.
With one hand, I pushed him away in order to come and press his back authoritatively against the mattress. His gaze darkens again as I lean over him, starting a slow descent from his abdomen. Another gasp escaped him as my palm met his erection, slowly working its way up from the base to the end, never taking my eyes away from his. Lance slid his fingers in an inordinately gentle gesture through my hair to achieve my face, making it easier for me. His hands began to shake slightly when I finally took him in my mouth, unable to fully accommodate him as long as he was imposing.
His breathing quickened as I started my task, fascinated to be able to discover him in my turn as he had done that night with my body. Very soon, I heard him utter several quiet moans which excited me to the highest point before he hastily tugged at my hair to make me lift my head. Bluntly, he pulled me up to him while vigorously grabbing my lips, framing my face with his large hands.
- I think I want you too much, my angel.
*
The water hit my head heresy, hitting my long hair hard against my shoulders. How long have I been wandering here ? My eyes narrowed at the force of the rain that fell on me, I moved forward as in a kind of constant blur.
My gaze was followed by a small shadow which is quickly in front of me. Running under the downpours, she didn't seem to feel them, moving freely in the surrounding darkness. I put a feverish hand in front of my face to try to make out something around, having lost the figure between the trees. Sailing blind, a childish laugh catches my attention as I push two branches in my path. Deciding to follow the sound of that unfamiliar voice, I sank deeper into what looked like a real maze.
The closer I got to the shadow, the more it seemed to take shape before my eyes. Very soon, I could make out rainbow-colored hair that blended into pale skin, accompanied by two small horns. The young girl was running innocently, as light as the air despite the brutality of the force of nature that fell on me. My heart skipped a beat when I thought I was losing sight of her again, which prompted me to pick up my pace even more. I stumbled many times, sliding across the muddy ground, hitting oversized roots. The thundering sound of the rain covered the sound of my frantic breath, my hair clinging to my face, entering my mouth, sticking to my eyelashes. My sight was diminishing, darkness absorbed me with its cold arms.
I didn't know what to do anymore, I was lost.
But suddenly the little girl's big silent eyes appeared in front of me. An arm outstretched in my direction, she invited me to join, as bright as the sun. When my fingers made contact with her skin, the scenery changed completely, making my head spin at breakneck speed.
The movements finally calmed down. I immediately recognized the Crystal Room, but it wasn’t the one I knew now.
Several people with unfamiliar faces stood in front of me. With serious faces, they were discussing without seeming to notice my presence.
- He will be the one we send there.
- A Guard Chief, when the situation is totally out of control there ?!
- He's far too young !
- Bring him in, cut in the man who seemed to be the decision-maker here.
A shiver ran through my back as the door opened wide, letting slow, sure footsteps echo through the room. When the young man in question passes close to me, brushing my right arm in the process, a sharp sensation marked my skin under my sleeve. He seemed to feel it too, for the expression on his face changed for a brief moment, almost flustered. His gaze caressed mine without actually seeing me.
- Lance, we were expecting you.
Continuing on his way, a confident smile widened the full lips of the dragon with such youthful features.
- Please excuse me for being late, Master Kaze.
Completely caught up with what was happening in front of my eyes, I was surprised to find the young girl's little fingers wrapped around my forearm. When I turned my head in her direction, the world shifted once again.
A companion collapsed at my feet, spurting blood against my legs. A violent gag took hold of me when its organs fell from the gaping wound that sawed through its stomach. Horrified, I backed up several meters when my attention was signaled by a huge dragon crashing into the rocks not far from me, all with a thudding noise. In a last rattle that comes back to my stomach, the creature collapses to the ground before taking on a semi-human form. Tears flooded my cheeks as I rushed over to him.
- LANCE !
My voice creaked, broke in my throat. I could only see the red puddle that gradually spread around his neck like a macabre web when my vision changed once again.
I was sitting on a bed in a windowless room. Beside me, a small gas light glowing faintly in the dark. Looking down, I noticed I was perfectly dry. No more blood stained my clothes.
- So if I understood correctly, you want to help me break this damn Crystal ?
A harsh laugh shook the broad shoulders of the young man as his interlocutor didn’t move a millimeter, perfectly stoic.
- You understood me very well, Ashkore. Do you want to make this deal, yes or no ?
Lance's gaze shone with a gleam that made my blood run cold. A carnivorous smile crossed his crazy-looking face.
- Very well, my dear deamon. But don't think you'll get me right.
The light suddenly went out, revealing once again the bluish color of the great Crystal.
Serenity reigned in the room. This time, no sound comes to disturb the religious calm of this atmosphere. A movement at the back of the room made me turn around anyway, revealing Lance once again.
Alone, casually assisting on the floor, his gaze didn’t seem to want to leave the luminescent jewel.
His eyes had never been so dark.
- That was the last time he was here, until you woke up.
I jumped at the sound of the small voice behind my back. The young girl stands there, motionless. I hesitated for a moment.
- Ophelia... where are we ? I questioned weakly, having her decide to disappear again.
Her expressionless gaze was lost for a moment in the void behind me. I thought she wouldn't answer me.
- In the deepest memories of the last of the dragons.
- But why ? What are we doing here ?
Walling herself in silence, she walked straight ahead until she crossed my body and passed to the other side.
- You have to find the answer for yourself, Andraste.
The recommended image to blur around me. No, not now, I had to catch up with her !
- Ophelia !
Abruptly opening my eyes, I woke up sweating in my bed, breathing heavily from my parted lips.
I was dumbfounded when I realized that tiny ice crystals were forming under my astonished gaze.
Damn, what happened to me ?
(Chapter 17)
#eldarya#i am not your enemy#eldarya new era#eldarya lance#lance#lance eldarya#eldarya the origins#ashkore#beemoov#eldarya a new era#eldarya fanfiction#eldarya fanfic#eldarya lance fanfiction
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gold Strings & Red Picks- PT 1
Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.
Summary: The Weasley's invented a band! Having a band, means you need a band manager; someone to help find venues, gigs and sponsors. After finding one, Ron seems to be hopeless drawn toward them.
Warnings: flirting, swearing, bickering, sexual tension??, Punk Pining Ron but also Smug Ron, naming a guitar ‘Cherry Popper’, dm me if I missed any.
Notes: I plan on having some chapters kinda spicy. I made an entire gif for this and yes it is Rupert playing 👀 and god is this self indulgent. Hope you guys like it!
~DO NOT REPOST ANYWERE~
-
It was a Friday morning when you quit the Static Dragons and posted the news on every piece of social media you had. It didn’t take long for you to edit your bios to state you were looking for a new band, and it managed to catch someone's eye just as quickly. It was Monday evening when you got a dm on Instagram from a user called ddchrmrs-official. The user basically sent you a paragraph about how he was the lead singer of a band he and his siblings threw together and they were looking for a new manager. You agreed to meet with them and talk about the potential of the band and he agreed, using more than a few explanation marks after his reply. He even sent you a few of their songs once he deemed you worthy enough.
So, you found a dining hall, an equal distance from your house and theirs, and with the lead singer's approval, Fred, you booked it for Tuesday afternoon. Fred even made a post explaining the good news- why he was acting like one of the Weird Sisters followed him back, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t help but be excited too. The songs were good- more punk-rock than you assumed from the band's name. Something about the name Daydream Charmers gave off a softer, boyband type.
The day of the band meeting couldn’t have gone much worse. You missed your morning alarm, you couldn’t find your laptop charger and the clothes you picked out the night before ended up covered in stains from breakfast. GPS even gave you the fastest route and you still managed to be 10 minutes late, but you managed to find the right hall. It was a bit different compared to the pristine image shown on the website.
The roof looked like it was caving under an invisible weight and the actual size of the hall looked like a small barn. The walls were made of red and black bricks, most of which seemed to be chipped, broken or bending, like it was being crushed. The door frame was slanting, the door’s white paint was chipping, the sidewalk was splitting at almost every corner. You were desperately hoping the building was enchanted so it was bigger (and nicer looking) on the inside.
You parked your car on the pebble covered asphalt, right next to an equally old and rusty blue car. You had no idea how four people, a sound system, a bass, an electric guitar and a full drum set fit inside of the small wagon, but figured they managed to spell the inside bigger. You weren’t bothered by it- how could you be? You felt your wand hit your laptop inside the bag as you threw it over your shoulder after climbing out of the car. Shutting the door, you hurried up the broken concrete, shoving your keys in your pocket.
You chewed on your lip, adjusting the collar of your shirt as you approached the door. A smile pulled at your lips at the refreshing sound of genuine laughter and bickering. You had an internal battle of whether you should knock or just barge in. It sounded like they were having their fun and you didn’t want to interrupt anything. Soon enough, the laughter was dying down and someone was strumming a bass quietly, practicing a few chords from one of the songs Fred gave you. You raised a fist to knock on the door and the silence that followed was close to defining. Soft footsteps followed the silence and you swore you could hear soft breathing behind the door before it was yanked open.
“Hey! You made it! We were worried you got lost on your way here.”
You weren’t expecting to be face to chest with an individual. Their band's logo was printed across the front, red letters with a gold outline that clashed drastically with the bright orange fabric of the tight shirt. You tilted your head up, meeting cocoa brown eyes and a crisp white smile. His ginger hair was spread across his shoulders, his ear lobes were pierced with two shiny black flat stud earrings and the little white nostril piercing on the left side of his nose was reflecting the sunlight.
“Fred?” You asked, matching his smile. You could tell he had fun, you could sense it. His arm raised, inadvertently showing off his muscles, and rested against the door frame.
“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly just joking. Before he could say anything else, he was rudely interrupted by a foreign voice behind him. Fred’s smile dropped into a frown like he was suddenly slapped across the face.
“Is it the pizza guy?” The voice asked from somewhere behind him, excitement clearer than crystal. Fred looked over his shoulder to respond.
“No, Ron. That’s not for another twelve minutes.” He rolled his eyes after looking back at you and letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry about him. His appetite is larger than Big Ben and it literally never stops. Anyway, I hope you like pizza! I tried to message you about it.” He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages and swiping right on notifications he didn’t care for.
“I was using my phone for GPS. Must’ve missed the messages.” Your hands slid into your front pockets, your weight shifting between your feet as embarrassment began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best first impression. Before you could think about it too long, a low whistle was resonating from beside Fred.
Without warning, Fred was being nudged aside by a slightly shorter ginger, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. They didn’t stay there very long though. They slowly dragged down your body, taking in your form, and his head tilted in appreciation.
“Oh.. I’m not gonna complain about the pizza when Merlin delivered us a cutie.” He gave you a dizzying side smile. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Surely, it’s something as handsome as you are.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Fred was pushing him back, faking a gag while driving the unnamed individual back with Fred’s hand against his forehead.
“Ew! Ron, down! Seriously? Keep your yap shut! He’s our new band manager and I’d actually like to keep this one, thank you.” Fred groaned, a sneer pulling at his lips. He blocked the smaller ginger from the door with his body before turning back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s usually not like this. Usually he’s moping about his ex-” You could see Ron jumping behind Fred to get another look at you. The reaction had you snorting into your hands.
“Fred. Fred, move, mate. I wanna see ‘im again!” The ginger whined, tugging at his older brother's t-shirt. He was dodging around Fred’s constant moving hands to get one more peek at you.
Fred let out a groan, his head falling backwards in agony before letting out a loud “George, please help!”
“Wait! Wait, wait!” Ron’s voice matched the panicked hand trying to hold onto the door frame before it was hilariously slapped off the wood and was dragged into the mystery hidden behind the lead singer. His begs and pleas began to echo and soften which you thought caused you to giggle a bit.
“I’m sorry. We’ll put a muzzle on him or something. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Fred shifted out of the door way, allowing you to enter the hall. It was bigger on the inside than the outside, that much had you relieved. Fred shut the door behind you with a satisfying click and let you soak the place in while he sat himself down on a velvet red coach. It was dimly lit, about half the lights were on, and the walls were painted a light tan, which easily could’ve been mistaken for white, if white wasn’t used for the tiling.
Next to Fred on the couch, was a girl with long, slightly darker, ginger hair. Her hair went well past her shoulders, and a bright orange base sat on top of her crossed legs. She had gone back to laying a few chords once you entered, just relaxing as her two brothers basically wrestled each other.
“Ginny, this is (Y/n).” Fred spoke up, pointing from his sister to you, then back to her. (Y/n), this is the youngest Weasley in the family, Ginevra.” Fred smirked, but it turned into a pained expression when she landed a hard slap to his chest.
“Except if you call me that, I will break your legs. It’s Gin or Ginny, nothing else. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/n). Fred hasn’t shut up about you.” She smiled at you, reaching a tattoo covered hand out to shake yours.
“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. You shook her hand proudly, knowing it was probably your reputation that kept the oldest Weasley in the band chatting up a storm. “It’s nice to meet you too, Gin.” You gave her a cheeky grin before turning to the other side of the hall, noting another Fred standing in front of Ron, who was sitting in a chair quiet grumpily.
The double picked up a deep red guitar covered in stickers and shoved it into Ron’s lap, causing the younger to gasp out a wheeze. It was obvious he had chewed Ron out for his behavior, but nevertheless, he gave his unplugged electric guitar a few strums, which seemed to satisfy Fred 2 because soon enough he was storming back to the couch, shaking his head the entire walk there.
He sat himself down on the arm of the couch, right next to his doppelganger. His arms crossed back over his chest once again. Fred 2 had the same length hair, different piercings though. He only had one set of black earrings, but had an industrial across his left ear. He had a straight line of freckles across his cheek bones and right across his nose. The spots went down his neck and across his forehead.
“He’s bloody useless.” He grumbled out, his snake bite moving to the right as his tongue ran across it. “Oh, hi!” Fred 2 scooted over to the edge of the arm rest, reaching his hand out to shake yours. “You must be the band manager! I’m George, Fred’s twin bro-”
“Younger twin. I’m the oldest.” Fred interrupted, smirking again as he pointed a thumb to himself. His smirk dropped when he was smacked in the chest again- by both George and Ginny.
“I’m his twin brother. Ignore him, he has a God complex.” George rolled his eyes, smiling at you while he shook your hand. He pulled his hand away before scooting back to rest his back against the back of the couch. You could tell he wasn’t comfortable, but he seemed dedicated to the spot. “I’m sorry you had to meet Ron the way you did. Usually he’s tamer than that.”
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your gaze turned down to your shoes. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up as his flirting rebounded through your head again.
“Nah, he wasn’t that bad.”
“I wasn’t?” Ron’s sudden voice behind you had nearly jumped out of your skin. You spun around, your backpack strings nearly catching on one of Ginny’s bass strings. You swallowed down a squeak. “Georgie was trying to convince me I was being inconsiderate and rude and that mum would smack me if she saw.” He was still holding the guitar by the neck, and that was when you noticed the bright gold strings with a red pick trapped between them.
“Well, it’s not like you were asking about my shoe size… “ Your eyes landed on the hands holding the black neck of the instrument and you couldn’t help but gawk at them. Rings covered his finger knuckles, veins popped out from beneath his skin. “Wow.” You didn’t mean to verbally gawk over the hands, so you had to force your gaze down to the instrument and ignore the urge to stare at the pale, freckle covered skin that was making your mouth dry.
You shook your head, looking at the shiny strings. You had you stop yourself from reaching out and caressing the polished neck, the textures strings and hidden pick. It was clearly loved and carefully taken care of.
“Beauty, isn't she?” Ron grinned, showing off the red body drowning in decals- most of which were bright orange Quidditch themed or terrible chess puns. You almost forgot to check if they were a muggle band, but this told you enough. “My best friend got it for me, he’s a blessing. Mum didn’t approve, of course, said we all had better purposes, but dad said rock on.”
“She really is. I’m guessing you named her?” The second the question fell from your lips, the three sharing a spot on the couch groaned in agony, but Ron was grinning in pride.
“Of course I have! Her name is Cherry Popper and she’s the love of my life. Unless,” Ron was taking a step closer to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he continued speaking, “you plan on cha-” His flirting was cut off suddenly.
“And that’s enough of that! Please sit down and, for the love of Merlin’s beard, rename the damn thing!” Ginny cried out, almost knocking her own instrument straight into the tiled floor. She ran a hand through her hair, her free hand holding the bass hard enough to make her knuckles pure white.
“I mean, come on! Name it something classic like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Jasmine’, or, and here’s my personal favorite, don’t name it at all!” Fred waved his hands while he spoke, counting the names on his fingers before doing jazz hands at ‘don’t name it at all’.
“Fred, that’s hypocritical. You named your mic.” George spoke up, pulling two white marble drumsticks from his jeans pockets and began to spin one between his fingers.
“That was a joke.” Fred stuck his tongue out at his twin. “At least I don’t do it seriously. And leave Echo out of this.” Fred ripped the non spinning drumstick from George’s hand, holding it out of his twins reach.
“Shut up and give me Crystal back!”
“No, if you wanna talk about terrible names, we can talk about the band's name! Merlin, Fred, were you sky high when you made it?” Ron shot back, his arms crossing over his chest, one still holding the guitar.
Knowing this kind of fight could go for a good while, you slipped past him, patting Ron on the shoulder while you walked past while a pained gasp rented the silence that flooded the hall. You set your backpack on the white table, opening the zipper and pulling out your laptop. You sat down, pulling the laptop onto your lap before opening the notepad application.
“I made the name! And dammit, I think it was clever! It even has a unique backstory! At our school, we had a um- small business and it was quite successful. By ‘we’, I mean George and I and by successful, I mean we run an online joke shop. I thought it fit the shop pretty well.” Fred held a look of pride- a smirk was, once again, drawn across his lips as his eyes twinkled.
“Mate, it’s horrible.” Ginny spoke up, not even bothering to throw the truth as a curve-ball causing two of her older brothers to nod in agreement. She copied Fred’s movement by yanking the drumstick from his hand, but handed it to George, smiling at him.
“Why couldn’t it have been something cool? You named your shop something cool. Why’d you give the band something’ shitty?” Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the door, the guitar balancing on his sneakers and leaning against his ripped jean covered legs. His attention didn’t stay with his siblings for long. Soon it was shifting over to you, like he was naturally drawn toward you. He grinned at you, sticking his tongue out. The little gold ball stamped into the middle of his tongue had your full attention.
You swallowed thickly. The ball and his guitar strings were the exact same color and reflected the same light. You felt butterflies fill your stomach from the simple action and noticed, almost suddenly, the ginger was actually quite attractive and funny. You sucked on your tongue, hoping the blush across your cheeks didn’t give too much away. Ron looked back at his brothers, his side grin screaming he basically saw your body temperature rise.
“I was led to believe you all loved the name, but no! I’m starting to think you guys are just trying to embarrass me in front of the (Y/n), but since you think it’s so easy, come up with a new one.” Fred cried out, crossing his arms over the printed long sleeve t-shirt, and was pouting like a child now, sinking lower into the couch.
“It makes us sound like a cheesy boy-band going after 12 year olds.” Ginny scoffed, propping her bass up against the couch. She looked over at her slightly older brother, nodding her head in Fred’s direction.
“It does. We could’ve been Fire Wicks.” Ron pointed at Ginny and the teaming up began. “Or like Solar Skips.”
“Or The Red Bloods.” Gin nodded, pointing back at Ron while her other hand pulled out her phone. The game was ‘Who-Cares-If-It’s-Bad-Let’s-Prove-Fred-Wrong’ and you could tell it was for shits and giggles. You were going to pitch in an idea, but someone beat you to it.
“Or FireBolt Bitters.” Spoke up George, who was now gazing up at the ceiling, shaking his head in mock shame, but you could see the edges of his smile growing at the corners.
“Ooh, I love that one!” Ron leaned over, stretching his arm as far as it could to give George a high five, before turning to look at you. He grinned at your confused expression. “Are you writing these down?” He pointed at your computer before giving you a wink. The butterflies came back, doubled in strength, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head no, laughing louder when he waved his hands in a panicked manner. “Write them down, mate!”
You rolled your eyes, typing random shit down just to please the younger one. Your eyes trailed across the dumplings, noting three quarters of them were smiling. Fred’s crabby expression made it was clear he didn’t get picked on very often.
“Charlie texted saying ‘The Copper Horntails’ would’ve been better.” Ginny said, looking up from her phone. She dropped the phone onto her lap, wincing a tad when the device collided with the instrument on her lap. She quickly forgot the pain and leaned back, enjoying her brother's pain.
“You asked Charlie?!” Fred squealed loudly, his hands holding his head. Right beside Fred, George had begun to tap his sticks together, improvising a beat to go with the arguing.
“You know what? That’s a great idea! Let’s ask Percy next-” yelled Ron over Ginny’s laughter and Fred’s agonizing scream. His smirk only grew when Fred tossed his head back.
“Ok, damn! I get it! But I already made t-shirts so deal with it.”
“Fred, we have magic. We can always change the print.” George piped up, tapping the white wooden sticks against his thighs in some random pattern, his head nodding to a beat. He shrugged his shoulders, not focusing on his words all that much,
“George!” This time it was Fred’s turn to smack George in his chest. He glared at him before leaning over to whisper in his twin's ear. It was something you couldn’t make out, but you figured they were debating over your status. You rolled your eyes, reaching behind you.
With a clear of your throat, you gained their attention before pulling out your wand from your backpack. While waving it, you locked eyes with Ron, playfully chewing on your lip to try to hide your smile.
“But-” Fred scrambled to grab his phone. You knew he was going to pull up one of your profiles to show none of them mentioned magic or wizarding or anything.
“The quidditch stickers were a dead give away.” You pointed to Ron’s guitar with the tip of your wand before putting it back in your bag. “That, and the tiny blue car that somehow carried four band members, and all of their equipment even though, that should’ve been impossible. I do enjoy Firebolt Bitters, though.”
Your own smile grew when the siblings broke out into loud snorts and sniggers, save for Fred’s. Ron walked over to you, and you were sure his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling. He laid his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he faced his band members.
“I like this one.”
A smile stretches across your face as your cheeks get warmer. Out of everything to come out of today, this was something even the strongest and most willed seer’s couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t even half past noon and you’d already started to develop a crush on a punk guitarist who shares a band with his siblings. You were clueless on how you were going to do your managing and keep it strictly platonic when he grinned at you like you were everything he wanted.
#Ron Weasley#ron weasley x male reader#ron weasley imagine#hp x male reader#x male reader#male reader#ron weasley smut#hp imagine#hp fic#punk!ron weasley
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oh, Baby
request
Summary: As you make your way into the third trimester of your pregnancy, every day your partner loves you more and more.
Word Count: 3.1k
Pairing: Kris Wu x Reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Unprotected Sex, Pregnancy/Breeding Kink.
————————————————————————
It is time for you to leave, so you make your way to the front door. You are dressed in a t-shirt and loose cotton shorts, as they are the only things that fit you comfortably anymore. You see your shoes on the ground, and attempt to scuff your feet into them, but leaning down to pull them on properly is impossible for you now. You are 6 months pregnant, and your bump has gotten impossibly large, you have no idea how you are supposed to fit another 3 months of growth into your tiny body.
You feel helpless and stupid, not being able to do something as simple as tying up your own shoelaces, and with the unstable hormones that have plagued you throughout your pregnancy, such a small thing like this tips you right over the edge.
You break down, tears flow from your eyes, and sobs escape your mouth. You are so tired of feeling this way, it is so hard, you used to be proud of how independent you were, but now you can’t do anything at all.
It only takes a moment for your partner to hear you, he is so attentive, and it takes a moment longer for his footsteps to echo down the hallway as he rushes to make his way to your side.
“Oh, my love, what’s the matter?” He asks you worriedly.
You lift your gaze to meet his, finding solace in his beautiful eyes. Your tall, beautiful partner, Yifan, grazes his fingers across your cheek, as his other hand instinctively races to your stomach. You know that his first thought will be that something is wrong with the baby, though that is not the case. You are embarrassed about how upset you are, even more so than you are by your inability to reach your feet.
“I can’t get my shoes on.” You say, feeling even worse after saying it aloud.
Yifan smiles at you, and without a second thought, he picks you up carefully, and carries you into the living room. He gently places you down on the sofa, and kneels at your feet you tie your laces for you. You feel like crying all over again, having only just ceased your tears, as Yifan takes you into his arms once more, and walks you back to the front door.
“You just need to ask, baby. I got you, you know this.” He assures you.
You nod at him, your lips are settled in a pout, and you hear his words, but it is still so hard for you to ask for help. Yifan leans down to kiss you, before pulling on his own shoes and leading you to your car. He checks that your seatbelt is on properly, the sashes comfortable and safe in their position around your stomach, before he begins the drive to the hospital.
It is time for your regular scan, and Yifan took the day off work to be there with you. He does not want to miss a moment of your pregnancy, and you could swear he was more excited about this than you are. He has had baby-fever since the moment you two started dating, so when you finally fell pregnant, he was over the moon, as you were too.
———
You lay on the hospital bed, with your shirt pulled up, exposing your stomach. The sonographer stands on one side of you, while Yifan sits on the other side, with his hand holding yours, and your fingers intertwined. The pair of you watch as the sonographer pours out the ultrasound gel onto your stomach, the cold sensation gives you goosebumps, but you are soon distracted from that, as the screen above you lights up, and you and Yifan get to see your little baby.
“Are you sure you still don’t want to know the sex?” The sonographer asks.
“I don’t want to.” Yifan answers, before you get a chance to, though you feel the same.
“I want a surprise.” You add, “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“Well, they are growing well.” The sonographer says.
You smile at this, as Yifan’s grip grows tighter on your hand, you glance over to see him staring back at you, eyeing your stomach, gazing up and down your body. You cough, gaining his attention, and he turns his focus back to the screen, though you stare at him a moment longer to see a blush run to his cheeks. The baby’s measurements are taken, to make sure that everything is going well, and the sonographer has no concerns with what he finds.
“The baby is taller than average, though.” He says.
“So they take after their dad.” You laugh, glancing at the 6’2 man you are head over heels in love with.
As your appointment finishes, you wipe your stomach clean with the tissues provided, and pull your shirt down. The sonographer hands you an envelope with a few photos from the screening, and you already plan on where they will go at home, on your refrigerator, alongside the ones you have received at previous scans. Yifan helps you stand from the bed, and you leave together after paying for the ultrasound.
“Where do you want to go for lunch?” You ask, referring to the plans you two had made last night.
Yifan looks over at you, as he does up his own seatbelt. He seems, flushed, maybe nervous, you are not sure what is going on with him, he does not seem his usual self.
“Can we just go home? I’ll make you lunch, we have plenty of food... I just, I’m not feeling great.” He says, scrambling for words.
“Of course, are you okay?” You ask him.
“I’m fine, baby. I just want to be at home.” He replies.
You do not push him to talk, instead you lean your head back into the seat, and reach across to take his hand. His palm is sweaty, and you wonder whether he has a fever. You did both have your flu shots only a few days ago, so you think that it may be a side effect from that, though you are feeling fine.
Yifan focuses on the road, he is an even more careful driver now that you are pregnant, so protective of you, even if he loves cutting corners, and driving fast, and you keep an eye on him, just to make sure that he is okay. He seems to get more agitated as you get closer to home, and you feel grateful to not live far from the hospital, as Yifan soon pulls into your driveway. As soon as he has parked, he rushes around to open the door for you and help you out of the car.
He holds you around the waist as you walk inside together, his large hand is splayed out across your larger stomach, you feel the baby kick, recognising the warmth, and familiar feeling of Yifan’s hand on you. Once inside, Yifan kneels down to take your shoes off, though his gaze is fixated on your stomach, he really is not his usual self, clumsy with his hands, as if in a trance.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Yifan?” You ask him tentatively.
Instead of responding straight away, he leans forward to kiss your stomach, lingering there momentarily before standing up again.
“Your feet are swollen, baby. Come, let me get you comfortable.” He says, avoiding your question.
Before you can protest, or push him for an answer, he picks you up, just like he did before your appointment, and carries you into your bedroom. He sits you on the bed, and gives you a pointed look, telling you to stay put, as he rushes out of the room, ignoring the confused look on your face as he leaves.
You hear the faucet running in the next room for a couple of minutes, and then quiet, and finally Yifan’s footsteps coming back towards you. You laugh as you watch Yifan walk back into the room, with a bucket full of hot water to soak your feet in. He is careful not to spill it, as he places it on the ground in front of you, and he kneels down to help you balance as you put your feet in one by one.
Yifan leaves the room again, only to return with a glass of water for you, pregnancy has made you so thirsty all the time, and hot, you are always so warm, with all the extra blood running through your body, supporting the growing baby. You sip from the glass, as he kneels down in front of you again, and you watch as he takes one of your feet into his hands, massaging it, hoping to make your pain subside.
God, he treats you like a fucking Princess, you close your eyes and focus on how nice it feels, your boyfriend’s large hands are like magic. He swaps to the other foot, and then uses one hand on each, until you feel that the swelling is finally going down, and you open your eyes again.
Yifan is gazing up at you, his cheeks are red, and he looks flustered. You still worry that he is unwell, as you lean forward to cup his cheek with your hand. The position is uncomfortable for you, with your stomach getting in the way, but you want him to know that you care for him as much as he does for you.
It is only now that you notice why Yifan is acting like this, as your eyes are drawn to his crotch, to the very clear outline of his cock through his jeans, hard, standing at full attention. Yifan notices you staring, and he tries to readjust, not being as inconspicuous as he would like to be, you smirk at him, it is so endearing when he wants you like this.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong now?” You tease him.
“I just... fuck you’re so fucking hot, carrying my fucking baby.” He replies, running his hands up your bare legs.
“Oh, really?” You ask.
“Mhmm,” He replies, moving to kiss up your legs, “Just makes me want to fucking breed you again.”
He bites gently at your flesh, leaving tiny teeth marks on your inner thighs, the sensation sending arousal coursing through your body.
“Would you like that? Daddy fucking you so good, filling your pretty pussy up with his cum? Gonna keep you pregnant forever, I think.” He purrs, now kissing across your tummy.
He lifts your shirt over your stomach, and you raise your arms for him to pull the fabric up over your head. He takes a hand to your breast, fuck they’re sensitive, swollen, already preparing for the baby you are going to be giving birth to in just a few months.
“So fucking sexy, baby, god you’re so fucking sexy.” Yifan growls, reaching behind you to unhook your bra, and you assist by pulling the cotton from you.
Yifan stops momentarily to tear his own shirt over his head, muttering an ‘it’s too hot’, before he leans in to kiss you. His hands explore your body while you run your fingers through his hair, he has one hand splayed out across your stomach, while the other palms your breasts, and then moves down to find position at your core, teasing you through the thin cotton shorts you’re still wearing.
“Let me fuck you, holy shit, please let me fuck you.” He begs, as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible, despite the awkward bump in your way.
“You really want me, huh?” You ask him between kisses, you nibble on his bottom lip, making him gasp, allowing your tongue into his mouth to taste him.
“Please, baby, Daddy needs his fill.” He moans, instinctively grinding into you.
“Hmm... only because you asked so nicely.” You reply, tracing your fingers down his back, settling at the waistband of the denim he is wearing.
He hastily reaches down to unbutton his jeans, furiously pulling at the tight material, tugging it down his thighs. As he does this, you hook your fingers under the elastic of his boxers, begging for him to help you, his desperation has influenced you, and you fucking need him too.
Yifan helps you remove his underwear, leaving him fully naked and you still in your shorts, Yifan then guides you further back on the bed, rested up against the pillows. You know you are not allowed to lay flat on your back, the midwives remind you of this every time you have an appointment at the hospital, it is dangerous for the baby. So you find a position, half laying, half sitting up, comfortable for you both.
“Fuck, I could cum just looking at you.” Yifan sighs, as you lift your hips up so he can pull your shorts and panties down.
You glance down at your body, pretty pink stretch marks adorn your stomach, Yifan leans down to kiss and lick along each and every one of them, just as he takes a hand to your entrance, teasing your growing wet, making you needy, as he slides one finger in.
“Just fuck me already.” You whine, not wanting to wait any longer.
You lift your hand to your mouth and lick your palm, coating it slick, to take your hand to your partner’s cock. You stroke him, transferring the spit in preparation as lube, Yifan’s breathing staggers, as you tighten your grip on him, before letting go as he places his hand on top of yours.
He lines himself up, with your now dripping cunt, and though you have fucked a thousand times, at least, if not more, you are still breath-taken every time at the sheer stretch required to take his size in. Yifan is careful in his movement, positioning himself just right so that he does not push against your stomach, as he thrusts in as deep as he can go.
“Fuck... Look at you taking all of me, god, you’re such a good girl.” He praises you, as he pulls back to thrust into you again.
“Your cock is fucking perfect, Daddy.” You moan, crying out as his cock hits you where you see stars.
He takes a hand to your breast again, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the overload of pleasure has you panting, clenching around his cock, as he continues to pound into you.
“Oh Jesus... fuck.” Yifan moans, and you gaze down to where he is staring, at your breast in his hand, you’re fucking leaking.
He leans down, taking your breast to his mouth, his tongue swipes at the bud, clearing away the droplets that have formed, though you are so aroused now you do not think they are going to stop. Yifan hums into you, fuck, you have never seen him turned on like this, you knew that pregnancy was his... thing... but you had no idea just how much it was so.
His forehead is beaded in sweat, and you can tell how hard he is trying to keep it together, you have not cum yet, although you are close, but you feel like Yifan would beat you to it if he let himself go. Though he is not one to cum first, always simultaneously or after, you know him too well, but you do not want to hurt him, so you focus on the pressure building in you, the way his cock thrusts at just the right angle, the way he grinds into you every time he bottoms out.
“Daddy’s so close, baby. Gonna cum, gonna get you fucking pregnant again, you want that, huh?” Yifan grunts, you can tell now that he will barely last another moment, though you too are dizzyingly close.
“Please Daddy, I need you to fill me, want all of your fucking babies.” You cry, feeling your orgasm as it reaches it’s peak and breaks through.
Your words were more than enough for Yifan, as only seconds later he follows suit, moaning in sync with you as he releases, doing exactly as he promised, filling you to the fucking brim, you are both lost in the moment, you can’t think straight as he fucks his cum deep into you, not stopping until he is running on empty.
“Shit, you’re so good to me, baby.” He praises you as he pulls out, though you are not bare for long, as he replaces his cock with two of his fingers.
He thrusts his fingers deep into you, while teasing your clit with his thumb, god damnnit he is gonna make you cum again, you just know it.
“Can’t let Daddy’s cum go to waste baby, hold it in for me, feels good, right?” He asks you, though you are so sensitive right now you can’t even begin to try and answer him.
After only just beginning to descend from your first orgasm, your second builds in record time, though you expect no less from your incredible partner, he knows you better than you know yourself, fuck, you are close again. Your body writhes under his, legs shaking, breathing laboured as you try to stay focused on the unexplainable pleasure you feel.
“Cum for Daddy, sweetheart. That’s a good girl... just like that.” He guides you.
You are done for, you pull Yifan forward by the neck to kiss you, moaning his own name into his mouth as your body convulses to his touch, and his fingers fuck you through your high perfectly, until you can’t take anymore, and you grab his wrist to stop him.
“Fuck, you’re fucking perfect.” Yifan sighs, kissing you again, before taking his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean.
“I love you.” You smile, grazing his cheek with your fingertips.
“I love you too,” He replies, “Now stay there, I’ll run the bath, and make your lunch, and... what else do you need?”
You chuckle, because of course he is back to his over-protective, caring self as soon as his head is clear, as soon as he has released the pent up desperation he had. You are lucky, so fucking lucky, you look down at your stomach, and then up at the man in front of you, grateful for all that you have. You reach out and take his hand in yours, guiding it to rest on your bare skin, you hold his hand down firmly.
“The baby’s kicking.”
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt 24: Illustrious
“Is it done, Alphinaud?” Dia pestered excitedly.
“No, it is not.”
She waited for approximately five seconds before asking again, “How about now?”
“Do you really want me to rush through this?”
“You’re the Artist Alphinaud, I am your assistant; what else can I do if not make sure you finish?”
“Will you ever let go of that?”
“Never.”
Alphinaud sighed defeatedly and continued his drawing. He was commissioned to create a current portrait of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to hang in the Solar. To their relief, he had everyone’s figures wrote to memory and therefore, did not require them to pose. That in mind, Dia couldn’t help but be a shadow to the boy, watching his artistry at work. The Warrior of Light was many things; an artist, she was not. It seemed the act of using a paintbrush did not come with the same ease as using a sewing needle, or a cooking utensil.
In the middle stood what he believed looked like himself holding a carbuncle while Alisaie stood on his right side at roughly the same height with her rapier held out in front of her. Dia towered behind him carrying Tataru on her shoulders (at her behest) with Thancred on her left with his arms crossed, Y’shtola on her right with a cane being wielded, Urianger on Thancred’s left with a book in hand, G’raha between Alphinaud and Alisaie with a big grin on his face, and Krile in front of Y’shtola to the left of Alphinaud leaning up against him.
“All right, I’m not done, but what do you think so far, Dia?” She scrambled from the Solar door to the desk to look it over with enthusiasm. “Ahh, I love it so far! Why’d you make yourself so short though?”
“What do you mean?”
“Alphinaud, you’re not that small. You almost made yourself into a lalafell compared to me.”
“It feels accurate to me…after all, ‘tis no secret I’m of a smaller stature in comparison to many of you.”
“Smaller stature, sure, but you’re not miniature. Give yourself more credit.” He shook his head before she inquired, “And where’s Estinien?”
“Oh…”
“What?”
“He…told me not to draw him…”
If her eyes could turn red in fury like Nidhogg, they would have in that very moment. “Give me but a moment, Alphinaud…” she told him quietly. She turned away from the smaller elezen and exited out the door in a seemingly calm manner, concealing her fury.
*********
Estinien, Thancred, and Urianger enjoyed a cup of coffee in the lobby.
“So you sort of just…wait for an assignment?” Estinien confirmed. The other two nodded. “Frankly, it’s been a bit more trouble to have the patience recently, particularly since our last assignment wasn’t exactly taken by choice”, Thancred stated.
“Indeed. Though we only aged some few moons in the Source, our souls hath lived on for years in the First, and kept us all plenty occupied, particularly when our friend finally arrived”, Urianger affirmed. Estinien made a hum. “What did you do while waiting before?”
“Oh”, Thancred began nervously, “Nothing too unusual. We just took our rest, did something leisurely, enjoyed ourselves whilst we waited.”
“Is that what thou calleth courting several maidens at once?”
Thancred scowled at Urianger while Estinien made a slight smile at the remark. Suddenly, Thancred and Urianger made horrified faces and scattered from their positions, abandoning Estinien to his fate: a furious Warrior of Light, wearing a look she wore when she killed gods.
“Do you want to explain your thought process here?” Dia confronted him.
“You’re under the assumption that I care to explain anything.”
“Look, I get you that you like to work alone; frankly, it’s understandable in a way. Twelve knows half the work I do needs to be done alone, lest anyone without the Echo be tempered, but I have news for you: you are not alone anymore!”
He growled, “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” She placed her face in her palm, then explained annoyedly, “The portrait, Estinien.”
“By the Fury, you’re angry with me about that?”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“It’s a bleeding portrait. What does it matter?”
“It matters, Estinien! It matters a lot to me, to Alphinaud, to quite a few of us.”
His face betrayed his befuddlement. Not having been a Scion for very long, her irritation seemed misplaced.
“That portrait’s not my place”, he attempted to explain, “And quite frankly, I don’t understand why you all so desperately want this portrait in the first place.”
“We want to commemorate our little family.”
“This isn’t my family. It never was.”
“Never?” she repeated incredulously.
He raised an eyebrow at her tone.
“Estinien, Alphinaud fought for you after your possession by Nidhogg. I fought for you. When everyone seemed intent on killing you, even yourself, we did everything we could to keep you alive. We even entreated Hraesvelgr to help us save you when Aymeric seemed content with just stopping Nidhogg at any cost. Then you go and follow us through Gyr Abania, to the point where you even pushed back an Ascian in the body of Zenos yae Galvus, and pulled my comatose body out of a battlefield and back to the front. And on top of that, you helped take out Black Rose facilities for us while the rest of us were off in another world. You mean to tell me that meant nothing?!”
Estinien blinked.
“Guess what, dragon boy? You were a Scion before you even offered your lance!”
He looked away to the floor, pondering her words, irritated by the nickname.
“Don’t call me ‘dragon boy’…” he snapped.
“That’s what you’re taking from this?”
He remained silent, still thinking through. What in hells had he done? What did he get himself into? He let out a frustrated breath and walked away. She watched him get away from her in disbelief, and followed him as he aimed for the Solar.
Estinien opened the door and called, “Alphinaud?”
The young elezen looked up and away from his efforts. “Yes, Estinien?” The dragoon hesitated, then begrudgingly ordered, “…put me in your damn portrait.”
Dia flashed a huge grin, and Alphinaud’s eyes lit up in excitement. “I’ll do just that! Thankfully, I was still sketching, so I can find a way to add you.”
“Hm…good, I guess.” He closed the door behind him and glared at Dia, still chipper from his agreement. “You’re a pain in my side, Dia Sito.”
“You have to be to do what I do. Thank you, Estinien. He’s a great artist; he’ll do you justice.” He shook his head and stomped off while Dia hurried back inside the Solar.
*********
A bell had passed since Estinien agreed to be in the portrait. Making sure he wasn’t followed, he quietly slipped into the Solar where Alphinaud continued his work unabated. He sat down in front of the young artist and bade him, “How goes the portrait?”
“Quite well, all things considered. I did have to remake the idea a bit, but overall, I’m quite pleased with how it turned out.”
“I see.” The dragoon shuffled in his chair for a moment, unsure how to phrase his next question. “Alphinaud…you are doing this of your own free will, correct?” He brought his attention from his work to the question brought before him. “Of course I am”, he answered incredulously.
“You’re sure, Alphinaud?”
“I am. Why do you ask?”
“I want to make sure this is something that you truly wish to do. Dia has a tendency to be a bit dramatic as I’ve recently learned.”
“Fear not, Estinien. I’m under no influence but mine own.”
Estinien let out a long breath and asked, “I know her reasons, but what of yours? What does obsessing over a painting get you?”
Alphinaud smiled at him. “I get a chance to relax.”
“Really?”
“I do. The past few times I’ve drawn, ‘twas out of necessity in order to locate our missing comrades or to gain entry into forbidden cities. This isn’t like that at all. Despite our friend’s being a bit more enthusiastic than I’m used to, I feel no pressure.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself at the very least, Alphinaud. But is that the only reason why?”
Alphinaud brought his gaze back to the portrait. In particular, he focused on the outlines of two people; Dia and Estinien.
“When I lost command of the Crystal Braves…when I heard that everyone I knew had been lost to that bloody banquet, all I felt was hopelessness. I felt stuck in a dark abyss, where nothing could see me nor pull me from it’s shackles. That’s what I earned for dehumanizing those who would help me, for seeing them all as pawns in my game to unite Eorzea.
Then Dia pulled me out of it. So did Tataru and Haurchefant.
Despite everything I ever thought of her, despite the way I would send her out as though she were my trusty god-slayer from my toolbelt, she stood with me, and helped me find a new home. Had she not saved Haurchefant’s friend from the Inquisition, and slayed Shiva, and the dragon that threatened the gates of Ishgard, we would not have found refuge within it’s walls.
After everything that came of our tenure in Ishgard, the Scions became something different. Especially now that my blood family has forsaken me, the bonds I’ve formed with my comrades became a great source of comfort to me. Everyone has their reasons for why the Scions are their home. If we wish to commemorate that with a painting, I see no reason not to oblige.”
Estinien didn’t usually pry into this sort of business; that was Aymeric’s domain. Yet, he did find himself in a better understanding of Alphinaud after that. He met the boy when he was still so immature, inexperienced in many things that were obvious to him growing up with Ser Alberic. It was interesting to hear how he changed, and what he missed.
“So this truly is more than just Dia’s will being imposed on others, then.”
“Dia’s not wont to impose her will onto others. She merely expressed a wish that the rest of the Scions shared, myself included.” Alphinaud raised an eyebrow. “Now that I think of it…I’m not entirely sure what her will is on a normal day. What does she want?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps it’s best for that to remain her business, hm?”
“When this is all over, and the Final Days are halted, I mean to express my sincere gratitude to her in any way I can.”
“Heh. Good luck with that”, Estinien commented as he rose from his chair. “Well, I won’t pry from your work any longer. Keep at it, Alphinaud.”
“I will, Estinien, thank you.”
The dragoon turned away and left through the door to the Solar. Alphinaud returned his full focus to the portrait.
******
The days passed while Alphinaud took his time to focus on the painting. The Solar was nearly forbidden territory, with the exception of Dia, who nobody would dare try to stop. After nearly a week’s worth of effort, Dia finally opened the door, and approached her fellow Scions.
“If any of you would like to view the portrait and help us decide where to place it, that would be most welcome”, Dia announced to the group as they sat in the lobby. All but Estinien rose from their chairs and walked towards the Solar.
“That means you too, Estinien.”
“Your suggestion is noted.”
“Get in here, or I’m telling Alphinaud to put it on your bed.”
He stood up reluctantly and followed her into the Solar, where they beheld the group fawning over the portrait. Estinien and Dia looked to each other, Dia wearing a smile on her face, Estinien his usual stoic look. He slowly walked towards the portrait to join the group.
For the most part, the positions of everyone stayed the same with one notable exception; Estinien stood between Dia and Thancred with a smirk and with his hand placed on Alphinaud’s head.
“I’m glad he took my suggestion and made himself taller”, Dia mused. Estinien tore his eyes away from the painting and looked to Dia. “Didn’t he do a good job with you, Estinien?” He nodded, “Aye, he did.” He brought his attention back to his portrait self.
Is that how he sees me, he thought.
“All right, now the question remains: where do we place it?” Alphinaud asked the group.
Everyone took a moment to think. “What about up there?” Estinien suggested, pointing to a spot above the desk…the spot that once held Tupsimati. Most of the group shifted uncomfortably with the exception of G’raha and Dia.
“Well…” Alphinaud started.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Dia defended. The group made faces of disbelief towards her. “Look, I will never forget Louisoix, nor will I forget Moenbryda’s sacrifice. But that spot is perfect. Anytime we walk in, we’ll see us hanging there proudly. After all, Tupsimati’s not hung there in how many moons now. Why don’t we use that spot to honor a new legacy?”
The Scions considered her words. “Did I touch upon something sensitive?” Estinien whispered to Dia. “‘Tis a long story. You did nothing wrong”, she whispered back to him.
“All right. Perhaps it would be better for us all to let our own story be told. After all, we saved not just one world, but two. That should be worth a nice spot, don’t you think?” Thancred reasoned. The group nodded.
“Allow me”, offered G’raha. He took out his staff and levitated the portrait from it’s spot. Y’shtola took out her cane and prepared a nail for the painting to hang upon. The two combined their efforts, and in a matter of minutes, the portrait hanged proudly in the very same spot Louisoix’s legacy once stood, the legacy that Dia had unfortunately sacrificed along with Moenbryda in her attempt to destroy Nabriales.
“There. I like it there quite a bit”, Dia complimented. “Thank you, G’raha, Y’shtola.”
“Of course. Now would you care to explain to me why that spot seemed to cause discomfort?” G’raha questioned.
Dia smiled. “I owe you two an explanation, it would seem.”
#ffxivwrite2021#ffxivwrite#ffxiv#estinien & wol#estinien & alphinaud#estinien wyrmblood#wol#alphinaud leveilleur#thancred waters#urianger augurelt#g’raha tia#ffxiv fanfiction#fanfiction#a writer is never late nor is she early she arrives precisely when she means to
21 notes
·
View notes
Note
billy filling up steves hole with his cum and then shoves a butt plug in steve
Dear anon, Oh... oh ho ho, this got good, like I am very satisfied with this! Truly a splendid way to... reintroduce lemons to my posting again now that I am free from flag!
Do enjoy~
-
Billy hides his wide, self satisfied grin behind a hand; his elbow on the desk, chin in palm, pretending to pay attention to English class, but he's acing it so why bother anymore?
Steve's squirming in his seat, constantly repositioning himself carefully, face flushed red like he's running a fever - feels like it too, blood boiling and skin slightly sweaty.
He steals a few glances in Billy's direction every now and then, finding blue eyes piercing into him, tongue occasionally darting out to wag salaciously before licking his lips that curl something so mischievously.
Is it obvious? It feels like it's so impossibly obvious, but no one has said a thing yet, and every other student in here stares blankly up ahead, disinterested and bored as all hell.
The clock ticks slower and slower, wearing Steve's patience thin, seconds away from shattering.
He turns to look at Billy again, who cocks a brow, his chest stuttering with a laugh, almost as if he can read Steve's thoughts. Or maybe he just knows him well enough by now that that wouldn't even be necessary to do.
So Steve shifts around again, the plug keeping him closed rubs at all the right muscles, hitting sweet nerves that scatter up his spine in a euphoric dance, encouraging a moan to search for freedom, only to then get caught just barely before jumping off of his tongue.
He keeps his legs closed tight, hoping it'll conceal the impressive bulge in his jeans. It's gross and disgusting and perverted and shameful, to sit through class with an almost full erection, but that all only elevates the thrill of it, the stupid excitement of danger, a rush of adrenaline that pumps through him whenever he looks at Billy.
Billy, who didn’t leave after last night.
Billy, who woke Steve up by rubbing his veiny cock between Steve’s thighs.
Billy, who fingered Steve’s slightly sore hole all nice and sweet while cooing and praising him.
Billy, who thrust into Steve from behind as they laid on their sides.
Billy, who right after he came plugged Steve’s ass still full of every drop of his cum.
Billy, who kindly asked Steve to wear it all day, whispering about how hot that would be babe, you walking around with me inside of you, sitting in class ready to burst.
And Steve, who’s been unintentionally edging all day since, agreed all too readily, but Billy has this irresistible charm about him that just turns Steve to butter. A flash of teeth, soft caressing, voice deep.
It’s magic.
When the bell rings for lunch, Steve barely registers it - lost in the vividly fresh memory of this morning, of last night, of the past few weeks. Every one of his classmates stands up, talking loudly, chairs scooting around as they flood out of the room.
But Steve stays. Billy stays. Even as they’re the last people here, they stay.
“Not hungry?” Billy drawls, tapping his foot a few times before turning in his seat, angling open legs in Steve’s direction.
Whose fingers are currently testing the strength of his pencil; thumb pushing against the yellow painted wood. He hasn’t taken a single note all day, staying home would have been more productive in truth.
“I can’t get up.”
Billy laughs, loudly, uproarious, throws his head back with it before running his gaze up and down Steve’s stiff posture. “I don’t think that’s your issue right now.”
And Steve groans at that, at other things too, rolls his eyes in frustration even though he absolutely would have found that funny at the right time. Now is not then.
“Fine, I can’t stand up-” Lips shuts closed quickly as he finally looks at Billy, and sees the clear outline of his thick cock reaching down his thigh underneath too tight jeans. The pencil in his hand snaps.
His own hard dick twitches at the sight of that, at the brief moment of wondering just how long Billy’s been like that, wondering if he’s going to do something about it. He meets with Billy’s excessively lustful gaze, pupils blown till there’s barely even a sliver of blue left. Lips part as Billy ever so slowly reaches down to wrap wide fingers around the shape of his shaft, hissing and groaning cautiously, eyes darting to the door then back to where Steve is caught in a trance.
“I don’t think I can wait till the end of today, princess.” Billy stands up and walks over to Steve in one fluid motion, where he leans closer, raised above Steve still, staring down at him. “I’m gonna need to fuck you now.”
-
Steve probably wouldn’t have even really struggled against the suggestion of fucking on top of his desk in their classroom, door wide open, shutters drawn, the most exposed and illegal it could get. He would have gladly bent over and let Billy have his way with him, finish what he started this morning, get him nice and well fed on every drop of cum his body can contain.
But no, sadly that’s not a risk Billy’s willing to take. Rather he yanked Steve up from his seat, got a good look and thorough feel of his painfully sensitive erection, dragged him through mostly empty halls to the completely empty boys locker room.
His hairstyle gets ruined as he presses the top of his head against the orange tiles, staring down to watch his own hands fumble in their hurry to unbuckle his belt and zip down his jeans. From behind he hears the same tune played with a far more confident hand, as Billy releases himself with a refreshing gulp of air.
Seconds after Steve drops his pants and angles his briefs down just far enough to free his own leaky prick, a hand slaps against the tiles next to his face as Billy leans in to kiss where the collar of his striped polo can’t reach, gentle and soft lips travel up and down Steve’s neck, sending luscious waves of delight washing over him, hushed moans slipping from parted lips.
“Have to be quiet, baby,” Billy whispers, kisses the shell of Steve’s ear. “Think you can be quiet?”
“C-can you?” Steve barely manages with a huff of a laugh, and he feels Billy smile against his neck.
“Only one way to find out.”
And he’s gone - taken a step back. Steve looks over his shoulder to watch him stroke and slick up his fat cock with pre, staring like a hungry wolf at where Steve pushes his ass out to accentuate the shape of it.
“Spread your cheeks,” Billy demands with a tone that almost implies an unspoken ‘or else’. “Show me how full you are.”
Steve doesn’t hesitate- wouldn’t even dream of it, as he presses his face against the icy orange tiles for support as he moves both hands behind, down, a handful of cheek in each as he pulls them apart, exposing the base of the dark purple buttplug that keeps him stuffed, keeps him stretched out, keeps him ready.
When Billy prods at it with one finger it sends electric jolts through the entirety of Steve’s being, sensitive and heightened, he gasps a bit too loud and bites back a moan.
“D-don’t do that, fuck,” he breathes in a heavy sigh.
“Why not?” And Billy does it again, with more intent this time, pressing harder and drawing circles around.
A motion that makes it near impossible for Steve to shut up, fingers digging into flesh with bruising restraint, his lonesome cock spurting and dripping with pre onto the floor. “A-ah- Billy…”
Billy’s chuckle practically reverberates off of the tiles, his self-satisfaction palpable in the bass of his voice.
“Can’t wait to fuck you so good ‘n hard, pretty boy,” he drawls and runs his fingers along the edges of the flat base.
“B-be careful, okay?” Strings of nerves pull at Steve’s stomach, a heat of embarrassment flooding out into his cheeks at the worry that it might hurt.
Billy’s adventurous, buys them all kinds of fun toys to play around with, dildos and fleshlights and beads and cuffs and clamps, literally anything he can get his hands on, but they’ve never tried this with a plug more than three fingers wide.
But then there’s a calm hand on his; Billy lacing their fingers together where Steve is still spreading himself wide, and it doesn’t exactly calm the storm brewing, but it does close the window to it.
“I got you, baby, I got you,” Billy coos, kisses his way across Steve’s fingers, across the cheek, up to his tailbone before leaning away.
Fingers closing around the plug as he pulls and… it doesn’t hurt, not exactly, it’s more of a strained feeling in the muscle, hints of pain here and there mixing deliciously together with the raw euphoria of it all, so fucking good Steve’s worried for a moment that he might actually cum from this alone, chanting fuck fuck fuck.
“Shit Stevie,” Billy sounds positively awed. “Wish you could see yourself right now.”
Steve tries though, looks behind to see Billy staring at his fluttering hole, butt plug shiny in hand, slick with cum and whatever lube might be leftover from hours ago.
“So fucking sexy…”
He can feel cum running out, warm from having been kept inside of him all day, leaking down his balls and thighs. Then he’s full again - three fingers full, as Billy thrusts those digits into him with ease and pleasure.
“God, you’re so wet and loose, princess,” Billy growls as he stands up to press himself against Steve. “Listen to that…”
Billy pumps his fingers in and out, the squelching of it all obscene like he’s fingering a soaking pussy, Steve’s pussy, who has never struggled to keep quiet this much in his entire life, every dive in stopping just short of reaching that perfect bundle of nerves deep in him, it feels almost deliberate.
“Just dripping with my cum.” Billy licks and nibbles and kisses up and down Steve’s neck where he can reach, making the skin there red from abuse and attention. “Think you can handle more? Get all fat on my cum?”
“Y-yes,” Steve whimpers between ragged breaths and nods profusely.
“Yes, what?” Fingers curl at a tortuous angle, like a light punishment that only makes Steve’s dick leak worse.
“Yes, please, I need you so bad, fuck me, please,” he rambles as a response, ready and willing to keep going, anything for Billy.
But the devilish chuckle signs that that’s more than enough. “Hmmm since you asked so nicely.”
The thick digits are quickly replaced with the blunt head of Billy’s cock, eager and horny, gently pushing into the easy and wet stretching of Steve’s ass, watching it reverently where pale hands are still spreading the cheeks wide for him.
When there’s no more hard flesh to offer, Billy keeps moving closer, wraps his arms around Steve and buries his face in the crook of his neck. They stand still like that for far too many seconds, as near as near gets, both of them pushing into each other, as if it would be possible to connect deeper than this.
At the start of it all it was quick and rough and often too dry in their rushing of getting together, but now it’s… this. Whatever this is.
Whatever it means when Billy mutters, “Feel so good.”
Whatever it means when he doesn’t leave after.
Whatever it means when they hold one another like it’s something dear.
Steve’s not the biggest fan of getting fucked from behind - he can’t see Billy, touch Billy, kiss Billy, but the way his steely cock drags against his insides as he starts thrusting gives Steve an incomparable amount of ecstasy, when hands grab on to his hips to control the tempo, push and pull and pound, skin slapping as Billy slams into him.
Choked whimpers is all he can offer up here- all he’s allowed to, and he feels the restraint hurt in his throat, every single salacious little sound fighting for their freedom, the rhythmic movement of Billy’s hips snapping against Steve’s ass only encouraging every rebellious impulse that’s contained within.
But the silence between them now speaks more than words, as Billy himself barely even grunts past hitching breaths. His biggest fear is getting caught, he once admitted, and that only gets him hard. Even brushing fingers at the movies can get him going apparently, which is a delightful little secret Steve discovered all on his own.
“Fuck,” is the first real word to escape him in minutes, as he bends over and places his hand on top of Steve’s where he’s supporting himself on the wall. “I’m close, baby.”
Steve’s almost convinced he could cum untouched, but he’s not patient enough for it, bringing his free hand down to fervently jerk his pulsating dick, utterly soaked in pre cum, yearning for release after hours of being half hard.
It’s become an easy feat by now to match the quick and irregular pace that Billy always finds leading up to his orgasm, Steve’s hand following the pattern with practiced precision, eyes closed and focusing solely on how wet and slippery and glorious Billy’s veiny cock pummels rapidly into him, pounding against that golden bundle of nerves that makes Steve want to cry out, knees going weak, stars glistening behind his eyes.
And when he cums, hot and white into his hand, it’s blinding, the stars exploding like fireworks, raining fiery bliss down upon him, toes curling in his sneakers, biting into his lip till it cracks and bleeds.
Behind him Billy makes a strangled noise; an abrupt and dissatisfying sound compared to his usual roar of a peak, as Steve’s dripping wet hole chokes around every inch of Billy’s girthy dick. Steve puts forth a foot to counterweight the way Billy presses into him with all his force, both hands on his hips now to keep them like this, his forehead pressed between Steve’s shoulder blades as he empties out for a second time inside of Steve’s poor, puffy, abused ass.
Steve’s convinced he can feel it, wet and burning and full. Fuller. Brimming, ready to burst, that if this was a porn vid the camera would angle down to watch it all spill out of him, and he can’t be blamed for the breathy moan that escapes at that imagery.
“God, princess…” Billy’s voice hoarse and raspy, weak and satisfied. He snakes his arm around Steve’s waist and runs a hand up and down his stomach. “That was…”
“Yeah,” Steve eventually huffs, neither of them truly finding much use for words in the moment.
“Mmhm,” Billy whirs and props his chin up on Steve’s shoulder, tilting his head till their eyes meet. “I’m thinking…”
A chill flees down Steve’s back immediately at that notion, because Billy rarely ever thinks of anything else other than… “What?”
“What if we… plugged you up again?” Billy grins like he’s already won this, like the cat that got the cream.
“Billy, please-”
“Steve, please.”
They stare at each other in silence, Billy still with that same twist of lips, Steve’s… uncertain. He loves the idea of it, but in practice? Today has already been hell on him this way, but Billy…
“Come on baby, please? Keep you wet and full of my cum all day, and tonight I’ll buy you a really nice dinner and clean you up in the shower?” He kisses promises against skin, nuzzling his nose against the shell of Steve's ear. “Light some candles… I’ll be real gentle with you.”
Steve’s not gonna be able to sit right for weeks to come after today, but he nods in agreeance. Because those promises almost sound like a date.
#Harringrove#my writing#lemon#5 pages and 2.6k words#this is the most I've written since the flagging#Anonymous
311 notes
·
View notes
Text
chapter one.
⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader
⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst
⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity
⇥ word count: 2.3k
⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine
Chapter One
Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am
I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.
The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.
As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.
Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.
Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”
Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.
“He’s not that bad, Jen.”
She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”
Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.
I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.
Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”
“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…
“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”
Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.
It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.
But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.
Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.
I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”
Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.
“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”
Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.
Tequila never leads to anything good.
Hannigan’s – 10:54pm
Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.
It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.
Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.
I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.
"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.
Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.
I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.
As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.
We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.
Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.
“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.
I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.
As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.
Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.
His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–
Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.
"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.
Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.
He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.
“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.
His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.
I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.
Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”
At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”
His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.
“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.
Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”
His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.
And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.
I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.
“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”
Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey? We were only gone for 10 minutes!”
My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.
After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:
→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”
→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”
“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”
Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”
I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”
Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”
“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”
Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).
With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.
But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...
taglist (message me to be added):
@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa
#bts#bangtan#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts x reader#bts smut#bts au#bts imagine#ot7 x reader#bts ot7#namjoon#seokjin#yoongi#hoseok#jimin#taehyung#jungkook#poly bts#college!bts#college!bangtan#frat!bts#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#jungkook x reader#namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#taehyung x reader#jimin x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s Just Not My Thing - Peter Parker
Empire State University looks like the epitome of all things Valentine’s Day which just so happened to be your least favorite holiday. In fact, you hated the day and with good reason, so Peter plans something special to get you away from all the love and hearts.
A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day @jellyfishbeansontoast! This is my gift to you from @killingbxys and @earthlyholland’s Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange! I tried to add little details about you that I’m sure you’ll notice hehe and side note: this is the longest thing I have ever written so I really hope you guys like it!
Warnings: some curse words
Word Count: 12.3k+ (kinda sorry, kinda not)
--------------------------------------------------
“God, it looks like Cupid threw up here,” you groaned as you looked around at the campus that surrounded you when you and Peter walked out of the main science building. Splashes of red and pink and small bits of purple littered the outsides of all the buildings around Empire State University and the walkways were heavily decorated as well.
“Yeah,” Peter chuckled from beside you when he caught sight of the disgusted face you made on upon noticing the immense amount of love-centered holiday décor. “ESU really outdid themselves,” he mentioned, his brown eyes falling upon the pink and red twinkly lights that were twisted together and spiraling around the trees. Heart-shaped balloons swung beside the entrance of the dorm across the way. People had drawn on the sidewalks with chalk several little hearts and flowers, words of love written in the same hues as everything else. Even in the water fountain at the center of everything, they had turned the lights pink giving the water a rose tint.
“A little too much,” you shuddered after speaking. Valentine’s Day was very obviously not your cup of tea when it came to holidays. You never understood why people needed a whole day to show their love and appreciation for their significant other when it was really something you should be showing your person every day. It also bothered you a little because you never had someone to show all your love to on the damned day of hearts and flowers. The one time you had a boyfriend for a long period a couple years ago, you two broke up on February 13th so that only further encouraged your hatred for the day. “I think I’m gonna puke.”
Peter chuckled from your side at your dramatics, amused by your clear disdain for all things red and pink that surrounded you as you walked. That was one thing he loved about you. You always brought a smile to his face no matter what you did. He could come to you after a stressful week of tests or after a bad night on patrol and you would make him laugh and feel better within seconds. You did not even have to say anything. Maybe it was just your aura or your presence, but it made his mood rise tenfold.
“Why do you hate Valentine’s Day so much anyway?” he inquired. You two had only become friends since college, meeting in your biology class last semester after you asked if someone was sitting in the free seat next to him on the first day. Sitting next to each other led to snide remarks about your professor to each other and asking questions when things didn’t make sense. One day, he asked if you wanted to study with him for the first test at the library and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to spend more time with the cute curly-headed boy from your biology class. That opened the door to more study sessions and then sometimes y’all would study at the coffee shop across the street. Soon those turned into hanging out at the coffee shop and somewhere along the line, you two became really good friends.
“Valentine’s day just isn’t really my thing, you know bad experiences and all. I also don’t really like how it’s being shoved down our throats,” you told him simply, gesturing to the sheet signs that some of the sororities had made and hung up. You shrugged slightly before speaking once more. “I just don’t like it.”
Peter nodded slowly and you could visibly see the gears turning in his mind. You really knew he was thinking hard when he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue and his cinnamon brown irises danced around at everything in front of him. His eyebrows drew together as you both continued your walk to the coffee shop, and you could not watch him anymore without knowing what was going on in that big, beautiful brain of his.
“What’re you thinkin’ about, Parker? I’m scared you’re gonna exert yourself if you think any harder,” you giggled when the words fell from your lips. He let his lip go from its captivity between his pearly whites and his eyes found you again, his signature smile showing on his face.
“I just had an idea,” he mentioned before leaning across you to press the button on the pole to signal traffic that you two were about to walk across the street as soon as the light changed. It was your turn to furrow your brows, but you did it in confusion instead of hard thinking.
“And would you like to share what it was or leave me in mystery?” you inquired with a quirked brow. He playfully rolled his eyes at you before beginning with his idea.
“So, this is just a thought and we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but what if we got out of the city for the weekend?” he proposed before he noticed the light change from an orange hand to the white outline of a man, signaling him that it was okay to walk. He looked both ways still before his hand found your lower back and he guided you across the street with him.
“Just you and me? Why?” you questioned further as you tried to ignore the warmth you felt inside you at the small but kind action he had just shown you.
“Well, you obviously hate Valentine’s Day so we could get away from all this stuff,” he told you as he gestured back towards the floral-colored campus that sat on the other side of the street.
“That I do,” you nodded in agreement as Peter pushed the door open for you and let you go in first. The overwhelming scent of coffee hit your nostrils like a train when you fully entered the building, Peter close behind. The coffee shop was always slightly busier on Friday’s but today was a bit much. The line was basically backed up to the door, leaving you and Peter squished against each other and the door. Somehow, y’all’s favorite spot in the corner was still available. “Do you want to stay here or go to the library?”
“We can stay if you want. You can go ahead and sit down so no one else steals our spot and I’ll get our drinks,” Peter suggested into your ear after you turned in the small space to face him properly.
“Okay, I want a-” you started but your words were cut off by the boy with who you were sharing your personal space at the moment.
“A hot chocolate with no whipped cream with those little marshmallows on top. I know. I got it,” he chuckled as his hand rested on your shoulder for a second. “Now go sit down before someone takes our spot.” You rolled your eyes at him before turning around and sitting in your seat, placing your book bag in the opposite place just in case someone tried to sit with you.
A few moments later after you and Peter shared a few glances while he waited in the lengthy line, he finally got to the counter and began to order your beverages. You had pulled out your laptop to see what all you needed to do over the weekend and surprisingly, there was not that much to do in comparison to the last few weeks that had been hell and you never really caught a break. Now it looked like you might be able to take a breather and do something fun rather than being holed up in your room writing a paper or studying for a test. All you had to do before Monday was two quizzes and a quick essay and you would be all done.
“Your hot chocolate ma’am,” Peter spoke jokingly as he presented the heated beverage to you. You rolled your eyes, taking the cup and setting it on the table.
“Shut up and sit down, Parker,” you quipped before moving your book bag so that he could do as you asked of him. He smiled at you and took the seat that he always sat in every time you both came to the small coffee shop.
“I don’t even know why you come to a coffee place so often if you don’t like coffee,” Peter mumbled as he took a small sip of his drink, grimacing as he pulled away when the caffeinated liquid was too hot to handle at the moment.
“For starters, that bean juice is disgusting. I don’t know how you drink it. Secondly, it doesn’t do anything for me as far as waking me up or getting me energized. Third, they make really good hot chocolate. And lastly, this is our spot, Peter. Of course I am going to come here all the time,” you informed him while you opened up a blank document on your computer, setting the font to Times New Roman, twelve-point, and making sure it was double spaced before you began typing your two-page essay on why technology is important and how it helps us every day. “Tell me more about this idea you were talking about earlier.”
“Oh yeah.” The boy across from you perked up and took another sip of his drink, forgetting that it was still too hot and burned his tongue. “So, this is what I was thinking. We finish all our schoolwork so that we have all weekend free. We can get out of here and find some place to explore, you know? Like we could find a hotel and just look around and go to new places. It would distract you from all the Valentine’s Day stuff and we could use the break from school since we’ve both been so busy lately.”
“I like that. Let’s do it! All I have is this small paper, our chemistry quiz, and a trig quiz and it shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours,” you said with a smile, excited for this weekend trip with your best friend and away from all things Valentine’s and school-related.
“I just have the chem quiz that I was waiting to do with you, so I can look for a place to go and a hotel,” he stated while sipping on his now cooled down coffee.
“Sounds like a plan.” So, then the searching began. You’d glance up at him from time to time to see his eyes trained on his computer screen, nodding his head as he read whatever information he was taking in from the device. The way his eyebrows were furrowed and how focused his brown eyes were on his laptop was a little funny to you, but you also thought it was cute. While you were watching him, his eyebrows shot up and his eyes diverted to you. “What?”
“I found the perfect place,” he told you with a big grin.
“Well tell me where, you idiot,” you chuckled but he shook his head, not quite ready to give you that information just yet.
“No, it’s a surprise,” he spoke softly as he typed at his keyboard. He then pulled out his phone to dial a number and put it up to his ear.
“Who are you calling?” you pondered aloud, tilting your head at him.
“There are two hotels near there so I’m calling one right n- Hi, I was wondering if you have any rooms open for this weekend.” He paused to let the person on the other end talk but based on the way his shoulders slouched, you could tell that this one was a bust. “Okay, that’s fine. Thank you. You have a nice day.”
“No luck?” you asked though you knew the answer. He shook his head at you before looking back at his computer screen. “You going to call the other one?”
“Yep,” he sighed as he brought his phone back up to his ear and waited for someone to pick up. “Yes, hi. I was wondering if you had any rooms available for the weekend.” He shot you a smile when you heard the mumbles of whoever was on the other line, so you assumed it was good news. “Yes, it is two people, and we will be staying tonight, tomorrow night, and Sunday night.” You heard more mumbles from the other end before Peter’s voice cut them off. “Okay, we will take it! Thank you, sir.”
“That went a lot better,” you chuckled at the boy’s wide grin.
“Yeah and we’re lucky too because he said that was the last room they had.” You nodded at him as you finished up your paper.
“Proofread this for me? You always catch things I don’t,” you asked him when you turned your laptop towards him. He gladly took it and quickly skimmed over it, typing here and there at your misspellings or overbearing use of commas that he always picked on you about.
“Looks good. Ready for the chem quiz?” You nodded your head as you both opened the quiz and began to take it together.
...
“So, we’re leaving tonight?” you asked Peter as you both left the coffee shop after being there for a few hours. The sun was beginning to set behind the buildings of ESU and it made the campus look so pretty from across the street where you two stood, waiting your turn to cross.
“Yeah, we’re gonna go to our dorms, pack enough for a few days, then we’ll leave. It’s about two hours outside of the city so we will get there at around ten if we leave within the next hour and we’ll probably stop somewhere for dinner too.” You nodded along to Peter’s words as his hand found your lower back again to lead you across the street when the light changed.
“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you Pete?” you grinned at the boy while walking next to him as you two approached the central water fountain, the lights illuminating it an even brighter shade of pink in the darker time of day.
“Of course I do. Anything for my best girl,” he chuckled when his arm slipped around your shoulders and pulled you into him. That nickname didn’t come often but it always brought butterflies in your tummy, but you knew there was nothing really to it. Did you really want something more with your best friend? Yes and no. You didn’t see a future with anyone else, but he’s your best friend and you also couldn’t see him and you in a romantic kind of relationship. Well, you could but you didn’t think it would ever happen, so you’ve pushed it into the depths of your mind.
After passing all the lovey-dovey shit that somewhat led to this whole weekend getaway, you both made it back to the dorms. You both went up to the fourth floor and parted ways at the elevator since your dorms were in different directions. Upon entering your room, you quickly emptied your bookbag of all its books and school things so that you could put some clothes in it.
“What are you doing?” your roommate, Raelyn, asked as she leaned against your door frame.
“Peter and I are going on a trip for the weekend,” you told her before you walked past her to get to the sink, grabbing your toothbrush and other things you needed from that area.
“Ooo where to?” she perked up. She was always so interested in your relationship with Peter, waiting for you and him to finally get together. She honestly thought you two were together a long time ago but was disappointed when she found out that you were not.
“I don’t know. He said it’s a surprise. All I know is that it’s about two hours outside the city and there are two hotels near it,” you filled her in as you packed the items that were just in your hands into the smaller pocket on your bag.
“A surprise trip where you stay in a hotel with Peter?” she gushed while wearing the biggest grin.
“Calm down, Rae. It’s just me and Peter going to explore some place to get away from school and all this Valentine’s shit and speaking of Valentine’s, what are you and Florence going to be doing?” You changed the subject effectively and watched the girl’s cheeks flush at the mention of her lovely girlfriend. They have been together for a few months now and this was their first Valentine’s Day together, so you knew she was excited. The girl loved love and she loved Florence, so this was perfect for her.
“We’re going to recreate our first date,” she spoke softly as she watched you go into the bathroom to get your shower things.
“Didn’t y’all do like a cute little picnic on a cliff and stargaze and stuff? Flo’s gonna love that,” you grinned at Rae while she childishly bit at her bottom lip to keep her smile from growing too big.
“Yeah, she’s making chocolate covered strawberries and I’m gonna go down to her favorite bakery and get some goodies as well. It’s gonna be a night to remember for sure,” she giggled before tucking some loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear. “I was actually putting together a little scrapbook for her when I heard you come in, so I’ll let you finish packing for your Valentine’s trip with Peter-“
“It’s to get away from Valentine’s, Rae,” you corrected her as she playfully rolled her light-colored eyes at you.
“Anyway, I am going to get back to what I was doing, and you have fun with Peter. Be safe and use protection!” she shouted when she went back to her room.
“We won’t need it!” you yelled right back.
“Y/n, you dirty girl!” she joked, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.
“Not like that, you dumbass. You are starting to sound like his aunt!” She just laughed in return and you finished your packing when you heard a knock at the door. “I’ll get it!” you shouted as you slung your bag onto your shoulder.
“Hey, you ready to go?” Peter asked when your eyes met his. You nodded your head before turning to say goodbye to Rae.
“Bye Rae. Have fun with Flo this weekend.” You shot her a wink and she giggled as she taped a heart to the corner of a picture of the two together on the page of the scrapbook she was currently working on. “You too! Bye y/n. Bye Peter!”
“Bye Rae!” Peter said loudly before you shut the door behind you and followed him out.
...
“How much longer?” you asked, getting antsy. It was almost ten and you really wanted to know where you would be spending your weekend.
“Like ten minutes. Chill out and eat your pringles,” he chuckled as he pointed to the green can of pringles that he had gotten you earlier when he stopped for gas. You huffed before grabbing some chips, placing a few in his opened hand, and keeping some for yourself. Peter kept one hand on the wheel while he munched on the chips you had given him in his other hand. You capped the can of pringles and leaned your head against your seatbelt a little.
“Okay, we’re here,” Peter told you as he lightly shook your shoulder since you were nearing sleep. You stirred a little, looking over to him while he unclicked his seatbelt and leaned over to do yours as well.
“Thanks,” you mumbled before bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe the small bits of tiredness out of them, ignoring the slight fluttery feeling that took over your stomach at Peter’s action. You got out, slipping on your jacket that you were using as a blanket in the car to shield yourself from the crisp air of the cold February night. Both of you grabbed your bags from the back seat before Peter locked the car behind him and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him to provide some warmth for you both.
The hotel looked more like a large home or mansion, older looking too but it had a charm to it. It gave off a cozy and welcoming feel and you have not even entered its doors yet. Peter pushed the door to it open and let you in first, him following soon after. It looked even more comforting and homey on the inside as well. It was clearly a family business as there were family pictures hung upon the wall and the couches that sat around a small coffee table reminded you of your grandparent’s house, making you feel more at home.
“Hi, how can I help you?” the sweet voice of an older lady broke you from your thoughts when you looked over at her. She wore a pale yellow apron tied around her waist and a gentle smile upon her lips. You sent her a kind grin as well before Peter turned to you.
“You go sit down. I know you’re tired. I’ll handle this, okay?” You nodded at his words, an insuppressible yawn escaping your lips when you turned to go sit on one of the couches you noticed earlier and resting your head on your hand.
“Hi,” Peter started as he walked up to the front desk that the lady stood behind. “I talked on the phone earlier with a man. He said there was a room available for two.”
“Oh yes, that was George. Let me go get him right quick.” Peter nodded nicely at the woman before she left through a door behind the desk. He turned around to look at you close to sleep again. He didn’t notice the small smile that crept onto his face, but it was definitely there.
“He will be right here in just a second,” the woman spoke softly when she noticed the way Peter was looking at you. “She’s as cute as a button that girl. I’m sure you love her very much.” His head tilted slightly as to what the lady was referring to, but he shook it off.
“Yeah, I do.” He meant it in a friendly way, but the woman clearly thought he meant romantically based on her next words.
“Y’all make an adorable couple. I’ve loved seeing young lovers pass through here over the years. It’s cute.” Before Peter could protest her words, a man, George assumingly, walked in through the door that the lady went through earlier.
“Mr. Parker?” he asked as he searched on his computer for a moment.
“Yes, that’s me,” he chirped, feeling slightly awkward about the woman’s assumptions but did not let it bother him too much. Of course, Peter loved you and he would love to love you in that way, but something always held him back. Fear probably as he wouldn’t dare risk losing you as a best friend. You’re his whole world and if he confessed how he felt and it ruined your relationship, he would hate himself for it.
“Alright, you paid online, and everything is set for you. Here is the key and we hope y’all have a nice stay,” he grinned while passing over the key that had a red heart attached to it. So much for staying away from Valentine’s related things. The heart read ‘214’ so Peter took that as the room number.
“Thank you and have a nice night,” Peter returned the politeness back before turning to go get you. The sight of you sleeping was absolutely adorable to him and made his heart soar. You had shifted from leaning on your hand to hugging your book bag and leaning against that instead. He hated that he had to wake you up when you looked so precious.
“Hey, y/n,” he whispered when he crouched down in front of you and lightly shook your arm. You stirred awake, your tired eyes meeting his big brown ones, and hummed in response. “I’ve got the key. Let’s go upstairs and you can go back to sleep.” You nodded as you stood and stretched before slipping your bag back onto your arm.
“Good night you two! Y’all have fun,” the kind woman you smiled at earlier spoke softly as she shot you a wink and waved you two off. You and Peter both waved back to her and sent sweet smiles her way before you headed up the stairs, choosing to ignore her playful but peculiar gesture. After making it to the second floor, you let Peter lead the way as you leaned into him, his arm where it always was wrapped around your shoulders.
“Okay, I think this is it,” Peter announced when stopping in front of a door numbered 214. You yawned and nodded while watching him fiddle with the key that had a heart charm dangling from it. You found it to be quite cute, just another little thing to add to the allure of this whole hotel. After a second, Peter finally turned the key and opened the door, letting you go in first like the gentleman he always was. He stepped in behind and flipped on the light switch, illuminating the room that was decorated in a way you both least expected.
You busted out laughing at the sight before you. A rather large white circular bed sat against the wall which was normal, but the rose petals that littered the sheets were far from what you were thinking when it came to sharing a hotel room with Peter. Red curtains covered the windows, a large red chair sat in the corner by a tv, and candles sat on the bedside tables. The light that Peter had turned on was quite dim compared to normal lights but was perfect to set the mood for a couple looking to have a fun night which you and Peter were not. You turned to look at Peter whose cheeks were the reddest thing in the room and only laughed a little harder, tears springing to your eyes.
“Y/n, I am so sorry. I was trying to get you away from Valentine’s stuff, not bring you somewhere intended for it. God, I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, you gotta believe me,” he rambled on as you gripped onto his arm to steady yourself, your laughter making your knees weaker. You leaned your head against his shoulder, continuing to giggle but also trying to calm yourself down.
“P-Peter,” you stuttered through chuckles and took a deep breath to calm your laughter before looking up at him. “Peter,” you repeated a little more seriously and stared into his eyes with your tear-filled ones. You could tell he felt so bad, but you did not mind the room that much. It was really funny to you honestly. “It’s okay. This is okay. It’s hilarious actually so lighten up and laugh about it, but this is alright. We needed a place to sleep and this works so we’re good.”
“People have probably had sex on that bed,” he groaned before his eyes flickered over towards the petal-covered sheets and then back to you.
“People would have fucked on any bed at any hotel. Did we get the bed that a lot more people have probably had sex on? Yes, but I’m sure they changed the sheets and cleaned up.” Peter shuddered at your words before pouting again. “What?”
“I feel bad,” he muttered as he looked around at the room and then back to you, the girl who wanted to get away from campus because it looked similar to this. You sighed before wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, nuzzling your head under his chin.
“It’s okay, Pete. It doesn’t bother me, and we only have to sleep here. We have got a whole place to explore tomorrow and Sunday, right? So, don’t worry about the room. So far, it has been the highlight of my trip,” you told him before lifting your head up to look at him, a grin on your lips.
“You’re the best, you know that?” he mumbled, squeezing you tighter against him.
“Yeah, I know,” you joked just to hear his amused giggle, making your words worth it.
“Are you okay sleeping together or I can sleep in the big chair if you want?” Peter asked when he pulled away from you. You rolled your eyes at the boy before you.
“Peter, we’ve slept together on those tiny ass twin beds in the dorms. I think we can handle sharing the bed. It’s much bigger and probably much more comfortable as well,” you mentioned as you walked to the bed and sat your bag down on it, ruffling through your things to find your charger. “Unless you’re scared of the sex that’s been had on it,” you teased, wiggling your brows at him tauntingly, “then the chair is all yours.”
“Shut up,” he quipped when he followed your actions and rummaged through his bag for his clothes. “Are you showering tonight or in the morning?”
“The morning. I am too tired to shower right now,” you spoke and yawned as if on cue.
“Great so I’m spending the night with a stinky girl,” he joked while your jaw dropped.
“I do not stink,” you playfully pouted while slipping your hefty jacket off your arms.
“Well,” he shrugged as if he was trying to tell you that you really smelled bad without hurting your feelings.
“Peter!” you frowned, crossing your arms in front of you.
“I’m kidding, y/n. You always smell nice,” he reassured as he collected his clothes and walked towards the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. You took the opportunity to pull out your pajamas which was an ESU sweatshirt and some pink pajama pants you had stolen from Peter. As soon as you heard the water start, you changed and pushed the rose petals to the side, letting them fall to the floor before you hopped in bed and got comfortable under the covers. Though for some reason, you were not as tired as you were previously and couldn’t just fall asleep as easily, so you got on your phone for a moment. Not long after, the water shut off from in the bathroom and a damp, curly-headed Peter Parker emerged from its door.
“The bath is shaped like a heart,” Peter told you before he walked over to his bag to set his dirty clothes beside it.
“You’re kidding,” you giggled, setting your phone down next to you to properly look at him, his wet curls making you feel some type of way though you wouldn’t show that.
“I’m not,” he chuckled, running a light hand through damp hair. He walked over to the light switch to turn the dim light off before he walked back to the bed and climbed in next to you.
“You really got the lover’s suite, didn’t you? You know you could’ve just asked me to be your Valentine. I probably would’ve said yes,” you teased the boy who you laid beside, hearing an exasperated sigh leave his lips.
“It was the only room they had,” he protested while you turned to face him, though you could not see much in the darkness. “And probably? You better say yes if I were to ask you such a question.”
“I’d say yes, you dumbass. We were likely to spend Valentine’s Day together anyway. We’re together all the time,” you pointed out and he hummed in response.
“Yeah, you’re right, but you really aren’t mad about this? I planned this whole thing to get away from all the hearts and flowers and love and stuff,” he brought up, shifting in bed to face you as well. You could hear the worry in his tone, so you reached out your hand to find his and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.
“You also said it was to get away from school and take a break. We’ve both been busy bees these last few weeks and we needed this, so don’t worry. The room is fine,” you spoke calmly. Though you could barely see in the dark, you could just hardly make out a smile on his face, or at least you could feel the presence of it.
“Now that I think about it, it makes a lot more sense as to why that lady downstairs thought we were a couple,” Peter thought out loud. You chuckled thinking about how she winked at you and told you to ‘have fun tonight’. Silence overcame you both and you let go of Peter’s hand to turn the other way to hopefully fall asleep.
“Hey y/n,” Peter mumbled after a while of no speaking.
“Yeah,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly towards him.
“Can I ask you something?” His words filled the void around you, and it was all you could hear. He sounded serious, but not like it was something about him but more of a curiosity question.
“Of course,” you muttered, laying on your back and facing the boy.
“Earlier when I asked why you hated Valentine’s Day so much, you mentioned something about bad experiences. Can I ask what that was?” You knew it was your curious Peter just asking a random question as it normally was, but you understood why he used an earnest tone.
“Yeah, I, uh, used to date this guy my senior year of high school and I was like head over heels for him. We had been dating for almost ten months and then the day before Valentine’s Day, I found out he cheated on me with my best friend at the time, so I lost the two people I loved and trusted most all in one day. The last few months of high school weren’t fun, and I was ready to get to college so I applied to ones that I knew they couldn’t get into. That led me to ESU and then I met you,” you explained, “and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”
“Oh y/n. I’m sorry about all that. I know that had to suck,” Peter softly spoke before his hand found yours to help comfort you this time.
“It’s okay. It was high school, so I kinda expected it to be hell. I was just lucky enough that I didn’t have to experience the hell of it until the very end. And on the bright side, I have you and Rae and Florence is becoming a good friend of mine too so it worked out for the better.” Peter repeated your actions from earlier and rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand in a soothing manner.
“Yeah, that’s a nice way to look at it,” Peter mumbled while drawing little circles into your skin. The motions of it had brought you a sense of great peace and comfort and were helping you feel sleepier. You were getting closer to a nice long slumber when you felt him pull his hand away.
“Wait, give me that back. It was helping me go to sleep,” you whined. Peter’s chuckle sounded throughout the room before his hand found yours again and began the circular motions with his thumb on your hand. With that, you were asleep in seconds.
...
You were slightly awakened when you felt something move on top of you. Then the fact that something moved on you made your eyes shoot open because last you checked you fell asleep with nothing on you, but now there was definitely something there. You also realized you felt something around you as well. When you opened your eyes, you saw the brown shade of Peter’s nest of curls resting on your chest and put together that he cuddled into you in his sleep. You lifted your head slightly to look at the clock that sat on his nightstand and saw that it was almost nine, so you decided to get up and shower, letting Peter sleep in a little longer. Slowly, you tried to slip out of his grasp without waking him, but as soon as you tried to move, his arms pulled you in tighter. Chuckling lightly to yourself, you tapped at his arm.
“Uh, Peter,” you whispered softly. He stirred a little but did not wake up. “Pete, I need to get up.” He squinted one eye open and saw what you were talking about.
“Oh yeah uh sorry,” he stammered while lifting his body off you. You smiled and rolled your eyes as you slipped out of the warmth and comfort of Peter and the bed to get some clothes for the day. Peter rubbed at his eyes before turning in the sheets, placing his face into the pillow, and trying to fall back asleep. Heading to the bathroom, you chuckled at the boy and opened the door. Once your eyes fell upon the heart-shaped bathtub that Peter was talking about last night, another giggle escaped you as you thought about the events that happened before you fell asleep. Only Peter Parker, the smartest person you know, would get the lover’s suite on a trip to get away from all that stuff.
“You ready?” Peter asked once you were all showered and dressed, appearing to be ready for the day that you knew nothing about.
“I think so,” you told him as you followed him out the door, shoving your phone into your jacket pocket.
“Good morning lovebirds. Did the lovely pair have a nice night?” the lady from the previous night asked you both when she saw you two coming down the stairs.
“Yes, we did, Mrs. Milly,” you answered, completely disregarding the ‘lovebirds’ part, as you read the name that was printed on the different apron she was wearing today. “I love your name. I have a cat named Milly.”
“Aww thank you, but you can just call me Milly or Mildred. Whichever you prefer,” she spoke kindly as she sat in the desk chair.
“I like Mildred,” you mused, leaning against the counter.
“Thank you,” she grinned at you before she asked, “How long have you two been together?”
“Oh, we’re n-“ Peter started but you cut him off with the jab of your elbow into his side, the whole action being shielded from the older lady with the counter.
“Six months,” you answered before turning to Peter who gazed at you in confusion. “Isn’t that right, Pete?”
“Y-yes,” he agreed, nodding at Mildred. She smiled warmly at you both before speaking again.
“Well, I won’t keep you cuties any longer. Y’all probably have a whole day planned.”
“That we do. We’ll see you later, Mildred,” you told her as you and Peter both waved at her before leaving the cozy hotel.
“Uh what was that?” Peter asked as soon as you two got in the car.
“What? Why I elbowed you?” you questioned, reaching up to grab your seatbelt and clicking it in.
“Yeah, and why you pretended we were dating,” he stated while placing the keys in the ignition and turning them, the car roaring to life in response.
“Do you really want to explain to that poor old woman that you’re a dumbass who got that room for a weekend with his best friend?” He instantly saw your point and did not bother arguing any further. “Yeah, I also didn’t want to break her heart because she really seems to like us, even if that may be as a couple.”
“That makes sense,” he hummed, pulling out of the parking space and beginning to drive on the main road.
“So where to Parker?” you asked since you had literally no idea what he had planned for the day.
“Okay so there’s a little diner between here and the nearest town, so I was thinking we go to the diner for breakfast, then there’s a cool science museum that looked interesting and it has a planetarium too so we can check that out. There is a somewhat rundown mall that looked like something you’d really like. There’s a really pretty park too that we can go to. Does any of this sound good or should we go somewhere else?” Peter asked when you had stayed quiet throughout his whole explanation.
“No Pete, it sounds perfect. I’m really excited,” you said with the hugest grin on your face.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he chirped before further explaining some more things that y’all could do.
...
“The planetarium was the best part for sure,” you told Peter as you walked beside him in the mall he brought up earlier. There were a good bit of people there for a place that was considered to be rundown or abandoned, but it was probably just one of the attractions of this lovely town. While some of the shops were closed, others were open and the food court still had some running businesses as well. The whole building itself was older but the inside was pretty alive and well. It was an interesting sight to see. “So where do you want to eat for lunch?”
“You pick,” he stated quickly. He always let you pick, but this time you didn’t want to.
“No Peter. You have planned this whole trip and made me happy. You pick lunch at least and you know food’s on me since you paid for the hotel so don’t even try that.” He chuckled lightly at your words before his big brown eyes scanned his options for your next meal. His options were limited to a Chinese restaurant, a pizza place, and a soup and sandwich spot.
“I think soup and sandwiches would be pretty good,” he mentioned as he met your eyes to see if you agree. With a quick smile and nod, it was evident that you did agree so the two of you walked toward the small soup shop and got in line behind a few other people.
“So, I was thinking that for the rest of the day, we could…” You let Peter’s words drown out as you looked around at the people that you could see outside of the window that showed the mall. Several different shoppers walked around the old place, but the back of someone in particular looked oddly familiar to you so your eyes darted to who they were talking to and that person was more familiar than you would have liked. The face of someone you had hoped you would never see again stood across the mall and your eyes basically bulged out of your head. On instinct, you grabbed Peter’s arms and shifted his body to stand between you and the guy, hoping he did not catch your gaze.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Peter’s soft and concerned voice broke through your thoughts for a moment before they resumed. How? How could this be happening? You tried so hard to get away from him? And of course, you would find him on the same day he broke your heart two years ago.
“I- yeah. I need to hide and it’s either you stand there and block me, or I go under that table,” you told him, giving him not a clue as to what was going on. Peter slowly turned his body to look at the source of the problem and you caught his eyes, the blue ones that you used to think everything of staring right back at you. “I used to eat playdough under the table as a kid,” you blurted out, your hand quickly slapping over your mouth at your sudden confession.
“What?” Peter mustered, a small smile cracking on his face in amusement.
“Sorry, I say random things when I’m nervous. You know that,” you reminded the curly-headed boy who stood before you with a teasing grin illuminating his features.
“I do know that, but seriously. Playdough?” You slapped at his chest when he laughed at your despair. Out the corner of your eye, you could see your ex and his friend wrapping up their conversation and it appeared like he was leaning towards your direction and anxiety filled you.
“Stop, this isn’t funny. Laugh about that later but right now I need a favor.” Peter’s giggles subsided at your serious tone and he was attentive to whatever you needed. “Act like my boyfriend.”
“What?” he questioned, dumbfounded with wide eyes.
“Just put your arm around me and make me laugh or something,” you instructed of him. Though it was normal for him to have an arm around you, he was a bit hesitant to it now but nonetheless, his arm found its normal spot around your shoulders, nice and friendly.
“No Peter. God, you’re helpless,” you sighed before you grabbed his hand that rested on your shoulder and placed it on your waist. A light dusting of red scattered upon Peter’s cheeks when you leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sigh.
“He’s here. That guy I was looking at, that’s the reason I hate Valentine’s Day so much.” He nodded understandingly at your words when you looked up at him and his thumb absentmindedly began to rub against your waist, the minuscule action bringing you much comfort. On your way to put your head back down on his shoulder, your eyes caught the blue ones again and you saw him say goodbye to his friend and step in the direction of the soup shop. Your breath hitched and only one thing came to mind as a way to get him to leave you alone or give him some hint that you weren’t available.
“Peter, kiss me,” you half asked, half told him while his eyebrows shot up and brown eyes widened.
“Wha- y/n, I don’t know,” he stammered, gazing deeply into your eyes to make sure you were being completely sure about this, not joking or pulling some funny shit. “This doesn’t seem-“
“Shut up and kiss me,” you spoke sternly before your hand found his cheek, cupping his beautiful face. Your eyes darted between his for a bit of consent and he slightly nodded so you went for it. Your lips connected with his while his other arm wrapped around your waist as well, pulling your body closer to his. Your free hand found the nape of his neck, trailing upwards to thread your fingers through those soft brown locks of his. Kissing Peter was something you never really saw yourself doing, but it was nice. He was surprisingly good at it and he seemed to be enjoying himself as well.
“Next in line,” the man behind the counter repeated himself since you two were too involved with each other to hear him the first time. You both jumped apart, Peter too in a trance to understand what was happening while you grabbed his hand and walked up to the counter.
“Oh sorry, hi! Can I get a cup of broccoli and cheese soup and a grilled cheese? Peter, what do you want?” you asked him, lightly tugging at his hand that you held.
“Uhh,” he stammered as his eyes trailed over their menu but he couldn’t focused on reading the words after what had just happened. “I think I’ll have the same.”
After you ordered and paid, you two found a spot to sit and finally had to face what had just occurred. Peter’s eyes were trained on you while yours were darting all around to see if you could find your ex, but thankfully, the coast was clear.
“He’s gone,” you sighed before meeting Peter’s gaze. “Thank god, I hated that,” you chuckled before pulling out your phone to scroll mindlessly through it.
“I mean I didn’t think it was that bad, but it has been a while since I’ve kissed someone so I-“
“No Pete,” you breathily laughed. “I hated him being here, not the kiss. You aren’t half bad, Parker.” His cheeks tinted pink at the compliment and yours warmed up a fuzz as well. Before you two could continue the conversation, someone came up to your table with your food.
...
“You two must have had a busy day. I haven’t seen you two since nine this morning and it's almost eleven now,” Mildred stated warmly when you and Peter walked in through the front door, chuckling about a deer that was staring at him funnily before y’all came in.
“We did,” Peter grinned at the kind woman, walking behind you as you stepped up to the desk. It was something about this woman that you loved, and you felt like you could talk to her about anything. She just had a cozy aura about her that matched the hotel’s atmosphere perfectly.
“Yes, we did. We went to the science museum, the planetarium, the mall, a park, walked around the town a bit, and then we watched The Sound of Music at the theater,” you explained to Mildred.
“Oh, I love that movie,” she gushed with a wide grin, her eyes just as wide as she took in your words. You could tell she genuinely loved hearing about your day and she truly was a really sweet lady.
“She does too. It’s one of her favorites,” Peter spoke from beside you, your eyes meeting his when your lips curved upwards at his thoughtfulness.
“You both are so precious! And I am sure you are tired too, so I won’t keep you any longer. I should head to bed myself. Good night y’all,” Mildred told you, her words followed by a yawn as she stood from the desk chair.
“Good night,” you and Peter said simultaneously before Peter’s hand found the small of your back, leading you towards the stairs.
“I really like her,” you told Peter when you made it to the top of the staircase.
“Mildred? Yeah, she’s a nice lady,” Peter agreed as you both walked towards your room, his hand still guiding you there.
“She reminds me of a really nice grandma and it’s a plus that she has the same name as my cat,” you chuckled while Peter’s hand left your back to place the key in the door.
“We should go visit Milly some time. I haven’t seen her in a while,” Peter mentioned, swinging the door open and letting you in first.
“Yeah, I miss her and she probably misses you too. She really liked you and so did my dad which was surprising,” you chuckled before flopping down onto the circular bed, the replaced rose petals jumping up when your body hit the mattress.
“He did? He did not act like it. He actually scared me a bit,” Peter told you as his hands fumbled through the contents of his bag, looking for something to sleep in. You let out a yawn after nodding to answer his question. “I assume you’re showering in the morning again?”
“Yeah,” you yawned out as you rolled over to find yourself some pajamas. “Let me brush my teeth before you get in there, okay?”
“Okay, but you’ve got ten seconds,” Peter teased, eyes gauging your reaction.
“Not all of us have superpowers, dork. I can barely get my toothbrush ready in that time.”
“Twenty seconds,” he offered like that was somehow better and you rolled your eyes before walking into the bathroom.
“I’m gonna brush them slower than I ever have before, so you’ll just have to wait.” It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, knowing you were lying. While you glided the toothbrush over your teeth, you heard Peter yell something from in the bedroom.
“Ew!” he shouted and that was followed by the sound of something falling.
“What?” you asked while still brushing your teeth when you walked back into the room. Peter’s face showed nothing but pure disgust and a slight embarrassment as he pointed down into the open drawer of his nightstand. Your eyebrows furrowed when you walked over to the scene to see a pair of fluffy red handcuffs in the drawer. While laughing, you rolled your eyes at Peter. “You wanted the lover’s suite,” you joked, turning to go back to the bathroom.
“It was a mistake! He said they only had one room left and you would think on Valentine’s Day that this one would be taken but obviously not. I am never going to live this down, am I?” Peter exasperated as you finished up in the bathroom.
“Sorry Pete, but no. This is the funniest thing and I will never let it go. Wait until I tell Flash in physics Monday,” you told him while exiting the bathroom. He wore a frown when he passed you, trudging on his way to take a shower. Unlike the night before, you were able to fall asleep pretty quickly after you changed and got in bed.
...
This morning, you did not wake up with Peter on top of you. You were in fact cuddled into him, your arm around his torso and head against his chest, but you were far too tired to care or move.
“Are you awake?” Peter whispered upon feeling you move slightly.
“No,” you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest. His laughter sounded above your head before he spoke up again.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think our plans for today have been canceled. It is supposed to rain really badly all day like practically monsoon out there, so we’re stuck,” he muttered into the space around you. At that moment, you did notice the sound of the pattering rain outside the window.
“That’s okay. We can just have a movie day like we normally do on Sundays and we can sleep in a little more if that’s okay with you,” you spoke with your eyes closed, really dreading waking up since the comfort of the bed and Peter felt too good to leave.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” he softly spoke, his arm that sat around your waist tightening for a second.
“Do you want me to move?” you muttered before picking your head up to look at him. You knew your hair was all over the place, but you didn’t have a care at all for its tangled state. Peter’s lips turned upwards into a soft smile as his hand came up to push some of that hair behind your ear.
“I don’t mind. You can stay if you want,” his gentle voice spoke, calming and sweet. You nodded your head before laying your head back on his chest.
“Say less.”
After a few more hours of shut-eye, you finally got up since it was nearing lunchtime, but you made sure to leave Peter sleeping. You reached in your bag for those pringles from the other day and quietly tiptoed over to the large comfy chair to sit there and eat chips while you scrolled through TikTok, the volume incredibly low as not to wake him.
“You left me,” you heard Peter’s pouty voice speak from the bed. Your eyes shot up to meet his as you held up a chip.
“You were sleeping and I wanted to eat these without waking you.” Peter rubbed at his eyes and laid back down for a second before his legs swung over the bed’s edge, sitting up. He came to sit next to you, the chair just barely big enough for you both, and stuck his hand in the Pringles can. “Let me see,” he mumbled, referring to the TikTok you were watching so you shifted in the seat so that your back laid against his front, your head on his shoulder so you could watch the short videos together. The both of you seemed to be substantially clingy since waking up, but you both also didn’t mind it.
It had been about an hour or so of sitting there, eating chips, and laughing at tiktoks before one of you checked the time.
“Shit, it’s already one o’clock,” Peter mentioned as his eyes flittered back to you after looking at the clock.
“Really?” you asked before you checked the time on your phone. “I guess you’re right.”
“Are you hungry? I’m not after the pringles,” Peter asked as he looked down at you still rested against his shoulder.
“Yeah, me neither,” you added, “so we can stay in our pajamas a little longer.” You stood from the chair you shared with him and went to the window to look outside. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was gonna monsoon out here. It’s basically flooding,” you announced after pushing back the red curtains to get a better look. Peter hopped up and followed your previous footsteps, standing behind you and peering over your shoulder. A huff came from him before his head plopped onto your shoulder, you looking down at his grumpy expression and trying to suppress a giggle.
“Hey, it’s okay. We can have a super fun movie day. Cheer up buttercup,” you chuckled as you kissed his cheek. You had never done anything like that before with him but felt bold in the moment. It was just a harmless little kiss and meant nothing, so there was nothing wrong with it in your eyes. When you pulled away, he wore a face of pure surprise as he watched you walk over to the remote. “Let’s find something to watch and we can sit in the chair or lay around in the bed and it will be really fun, okay?” Reluctantly, the still-shocked boy nodded his head before crawling into the bed. You followed suit and channel surfed until you found a Star Wars movie, the perfect thing to lift his spirits.
About an hour into it, you were beginning to get cold. You started to realize why each of you gravitated towards the other the past two nights. It was to seek out warmth and now you really wanted to cuddle up next to him, but you felt weird for asking that and you definitely were not just going to do it on your own.
“Y/n, your teeth are fucking chattering. Get over here,” Peter spoke up at the perfect moment. You hesitated for like a second before sliding into his open arms and wrapping yours around his torso.
“My teeth weren’t chattering, asshole,” you quipped as you relaxed against his body, finally feeling warmer.
“No, but I could tell you were cold and I was a little too, so I decided to fix both our problems.” You giggled against his chest before your eyes settled back on the TV screen, watching Leia talk to her brother. After watching one of his favorite movies, y’all watched one of your favorite movies which was Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban, and then a couple of Grey’s Anatomy episodes until you heard Peter’s stomach rumble beneath your ear.
“Maybe we should go get something to eat,” you suggested with a giggle as Peter’s cheeks reddened from embarrassment. “You could’ve told me you were hungry.”
“Yeah, but I know how much you love this show and I was going to wait until the end of this episode before saying something,” he told you while you sat up from his embrace. “Do you have anything in mind about what you want to eat?”
“Not really,” you answered when you stretched, reaching your arms up towards the ceiling. “All I know is that I don’t want to change, but I don’t want Mildred to pick on me for these,” you told him as you pointed to the pink pajama pants you have worn the last two nights.
“Hey, Mr. Stark got me those and you seemed to love them the one time you wore them so I gave them to you,” Peter explained as he sat up himself. “And I doubt she’d pick on you for those. She’d probably say you look cute in them or something.”
“She does think we are cute, doesn’t she?” you smiled, thinking of the nice old woman downstairs. “I’m gonna miss her.”
“I’m sure she’ll miss you too,” Peter chuckled at the fast connection you had made with the woman in a matter of a few short conversations.
“We should make this a tradition. Like every year on Valentine’s, go to a different place and explore or I would not mind coming here just so I could see Mildred and we could always get this room as a joke. I have had a lot of fun this weekend, Peter. This was a great idea,” you told him as you slipped your shoes on and Peter pulled on a dark blue sweatshirt over the hoodie he was already wearing.
“What would we do if we get boyfriends or girlfriends?” Peter inquired, grabbing his car keys.
“Go the weekend before or after. We will still be best friends, Parker,” you giggled at him after you put your coat on and followed him out the door.
“There you two are! I was beginning to think y’all passed out up there,” Mildred spoke as her eyes fell upon your outfits, Peter in a sweatshirt, hoodie, and sweatpants and you in your pajama pants, a sweatshirt, and your coat. “Well did y’all just wake up?”
“No ma’am,” Peter lightly laughed. “The rain kind of ruined our plans so we stayed in and watched movies and now we’re going to pick up something for dinner.”
“Oh, that’s nice! Y’all are just cute as a button in your pajamas. Y’all are probably starving so you two go ahead. I won’t keep you any longer,” Mildred spoke and shooed you two closer to the door. You both said your goodbyes before stepping out the door and onto the porch. Peter wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you ducked your head into his chest before you both ran together towards his car.
“We never decided on where to eat,” you brought up as soon as you both were in the car.
“Oh yeah. What about pizza? Or burgers? Both sound really good right now,” Peter offered, his mouth practically watering before you at the thought of some food.
“Either sounds great to me.” So, he looked up which one was closer and drove to a local pizza parlor. The place was not but fifteen minutes away and since Peter called ahead as soon as you two got in the car, it was ready when you had arrived. All y’all had to do was pick it up and you did exactly that. Now, you were on the way back to the hotel and though you had a warm box of pizza resting in your lap, you were quite cold.
“Are you freezing?” you asked the driver whose brown eyes flickered to yours for a moment before finding the road again, squinting a bit to see through the heavy rain that persisted to fall.
“Yeah, a little.” At the same time, you and Peter both reached for the knob that controlled the temperature of the air that flowed through the vehicle, your hands brushing against each other. Immediately, you both retracted your hands and heat rushed to your cheeks. A second later, Peter reached out again and turned the knob to the right to get some warmer air.
“Um, I think we should talk about something,” the boy announced while something in the air shifted, feeling thicker and slightly more suffocating. You kept your eyes trained ahead of you as well before you spoke up.
“Uh, yeah. I guess we should.”
“Something has definitely changed between us this weekend. We don’t act like the same two best friends that we used to,” Peter mentioned, not sparing you a glance. You looked over at him to see his face, but not even his face showed you any indication of what was going through that pretty little head of his.
“Yeah,” you chuckled, trying to make the conversation a little more light-hearted and less serious. You didn’t see much of a big deal. Yes, you both had been clingier and you two shared a kiss, a damn good one at that, but that was to distract someone who had broken you with no remorse from coming your way. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to think there was more to this and his serious tone frightened you a tad, not really ever being so pensive about anything other than school. “I don’t see an issue.”
“So, you’re okay with cuddling and kisses and stuff like that?” The way he said that and gave you the most incredulous look made you feel as if your presence was not wanted by him. Maybe you were not wanted by him. It wouldn’t be a first in your life. No, your brain fought itself, he wouldn’t have planned all this for you if he didn’t love you.
“We only kissed once,” you stated while his normally soft brown eyes stared coldly through the windshield. “I’m sorry if I messed something up by doing that, but you didn’t exactly fight it, Peter.”
“No, that’s not- never mind that kiss, but the one this morning. You kissed me on my cheek.”
“Because you seemed upset!” your voice rose ever so slightly as you fought your point, a feeling you have never felt about Peter bubbling in your chest. It was a mixture of anger, hurt, and sadness. You were also growing annoyed with the conversation as a whole and were ready to get back to the hotel which was mere minutes away. “I didn’t think there was that much to it.”
“It’s not something friends do,” Peter argued not sparing you so much as a glance or some hint as to what he was trying to get at.
“Why do I feel like you are blaming me for how we’ve gotten closer over the past few days? You’ve been acting awful cozy as well,” you tried to calm your voice a little as you spoke, but you hated being blamed for things, especially stupid things like this. “We’re best friends, Peter. It’s okay to be a little closer than normal. It’s okay to cuddle, hold hands, or kiss each other on the cheek. I will admit that the kiss yesterday might have been a bit much, but all the other stuff is perfectly normal. I’ll back off if you want, but don’t come at me when you have been doing the same thing and initiating it sometimes too.”
“Those are things that couples do. I have never done that with my best friends. Granted, you’re my first girl best friend that isn’t terrified to touch or interact with another person, but that’s beside the point,” Peter said as he turned into the hotel lot and found a place to park. “I’ve only ever done this kinda thing with a girlfriend and we aren’t dating. I couldn’t date you, y/n.”
That last sentence struck a nerve in you. I couldn’t date you, y/n. Why the hell not? What was so wrong with you that he couldn’t date you? The words brought you back to a place you were a couple years ago when everything that made you hate today happened. You were so easily replaced by both your boyfriend and best friend. You were never really wanted around by them, and you hated yourself for not noticing sooner. Well, you did notice, but you had hope that it was all in your head until you were proved otherwise.
Was the same thing about to happen with you and Peter? Were you going to lose the only person outside of your family that you loved and spent all your time with? If he couldn’t date you, then how could he be your best friend? The two things were terribly similar with the only differences being sexual intimacy and a different kind of love. Peter was your soulmate for sure, maybe not romantically, though you had hoped otherwise, but he was meant to be with you. Now he did not seem to want to be near you.
You didn’t recognize it, but tears had pooled in your eyes, not yet fallen though. Your breathing felt different, quicker, and you felt like you were losing all that was important to you, him. You had always hoped that sometime in the future you and Peter would get together. You two had made a pact a while ago that if you hadn’t found someone by the age of twenty-six, you two would start dating and then get married within the following year or two. That idea was now seemingly being thrown out the window since he couldn’t date you.
“Y/n…” Peter sighed, his hand reaching out to grab yours but you were quick to pull it away.
“I thought friends didn’t do that,” you threw his words right back at him before you got out, leaving the pizza in your seat and slamming the door shut behind you. Now that you were in the rain, you let your tears flow since they now just appeared to anyone else as raindrops on your face. You tried to speed walk towards the hotel for two reasons: to get away from Peter and to get out of the rain. However, the damn arachnid abilities of your best friend made him much quicker, his hand catching your arm and spinning you back to face him.
You hated yourself for the thoughts running through your mind. The rain on his face that dripped down his cheeks and nose was insanely attractive, and the water made his curls droop onto his forehead, another thing that made him look irresistible. You wanted to kiss him so badly, but how could you after the last one caused so much damage obviously since it was one of the things behind this argument.
“Y/n, that’s not what I meant,” he spoke, his honey brown eyes darted between your own. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were. Did he think the water droplets sliding down your face looked pretty? Did he think you were pretty? He had commented on your appearance before, saying you looked beautiful on random occasions but now it all seemed meaningless.
“What did you mean, Peter? How else was I supposed to take that?” you argued with the boy. You didn’t care if he could tell the difference between the freshwater drops on your face and the saltwater tears because his words hurt you and he should know that.
“Of course, I could date you. I would love to date you! You are the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid eyes on and I’m still shocked that you choose to hang out with me every day. Why do you think I made that pact about us dating when we’re older? I can’t wait until then because we promised we’d get together. You do not know how much I hope you don’t find someone before then because my only chance to be with you will be gone because I certainly don’t have to balls to ask you out. The only reason I am telling you all of this now is because I’m scared I’ll lose you, y/n. I can’t even bear to think about that right now. I am an idiot and I’m sorry. I’m so sorr-“
“Peter!” you snapped, tired of hearing his rambles as you desperately wanted to feel his lips against your own.
“What?” he asked, brows knitted and eyes locked on yours.
“Shut up and kiss me,” you repeated the words that you said before your first kiss with the boy as you watched a smile grow on his lips. His hands were quick to cup your cheeks as he brought your face to his, lips connecting and a fire ignited within you both. His left hand slid from your cheek down your shoulder and arm until he found your waist and pulled you closer to his body. You gripped onto his bicep with one hand while your other found the back of his head, your fingers running through the dampened curls. A thought immediately popped in your head and you acted on it, tugging on the strands which resulted in his lips parting. Your plan was achieved successfully, and you slipped your tongue into the entrance. He followed suit and after a little bit, you both needed a little oxygen.
“Um, wow. That was um-“ Peter stumbled over his words, trying to muster up the perfect ones to say in fear of screwing up again. “Nice.” You chuckled at his awkwardness, leaning your head on his forehead and looking up at him.
“Yeah, I agree,” you breathed as your eyes scanned all over his features, taking in every bit of this beautiful moment. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Pete.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n,” Peter responded with a grin, happy he could make you see the holiday as a little more enjoyable for you. The sound of his stomach growling interrupted the moment, and a laugh left your lips. “I’m gonna get the pizza.”
“You do that,” you chuckled at the hungry boy as he walked to the passenger side door, swinging it open to grab the square cardboard box. “You know Mildred is going to kill us. We’re out here drenched in our pajamas in the cold.”
“Yeah, she definitely will,” Peter agreed while walking up the steps with you, “but we can do it together.” He held his free hand out to you for you to take which you gladly did, interlacing your fingers with his. You got up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek as well.
“Together.”
--------------------------------------------------
tag list: @rebelemilu @starrybrock @mxltifandoms06 @mendesblurb @dpaccione @msgorillagripcoochie @vintageobx @ilovejjmaybank @bibliophilewednesday
some others that seemed interested: @taylathornton @marjorie189
click here to be added to the taglist
#kjs fic exchange#peter#peter parker#peter imagine#peter x reader#peter fanfic#peter fanfiction#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman#spiderman fanfiction#marvel
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
(i love it when y’all)
pairing: kirishima eijirou x reader
word count: 4503
warnings: NSFW, blowjobs, desk sex
I’m finally back with part 2!! i’m so sorry this took so long!
Tip Jar!
[[PART 1]]
»»————- ♡ ————-««
In the days following the dry-humping incident, you feel like you’re walking on air. You had been worried that things might be awkward between you and Kirishima, but if anything it’s been the total opposite. Everything is still new between you, but ever since you spent the night together the two of you had been throwing each other shy smiles across every room you’ve been in together, and sitting closer together than usual.
However, nothing has technically happened since that night. You’re kind of too nervous to bring it up, and Kirishima hasn’t mentioned it either. The most contact you’ve had has been your hands brushing together as you walked, with neither of you pulling away. Considering how lewd he was the night he dry-humped you till you both came, the sudden innocence of it all has your head spinning.
At the end of the day, while Kirishima’s sudden shyness is impossibly cute, you can’t help but be super frustrated. Like, he’s just gonna give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had without even touching you properly, and then go back to blushing when you smile at him? No way. Not if you had anything to do with. You had even confessed that you liked each other, so you know that he’s not playing coy because he’s not interested.
The only conclusion that you can come to is that he’s trying to be respectful by keeping his distance -- he’s always been so determined to be a gentleman, after all. That’s just fine. It’s incredibly sweet, in fact, it just means that you’re going to have to take matters into your own hands.
So far, your plan was working perfectly. You had timed your arrival at Fatgum’s hero agency right for when you knew Kirishima got off for his lunch break, and you got to his office on the fourth floor right as he stepped out of his office. He shut the door behind him, then looked up. His face had broken into a grin at the sight of you. “Hey, you! What are you doing here?”
That smile had bolstered you, and you grin back. You can only hope your nerves aren’t showing. “Hey!” you say brightly, then lift the lunchbox you had brought with you, “Looks like I caught you right on time! I brought you lunch!”
Kirishima’s grin morphed into a look of surprise, his mouth rounding into a little pink ‘o’. “For me?”
“Yeah, obviously.” You laugh, and scratch the back of your neck a little nervously. “Um. Wanna go into your office?”
It seems to take a long moment for that to penetrate Kirishima’s thoughts, but then he jerks towards the door he had just closed behind him. “Of course, of course! Come in!”
You’ve never been to his office before, so you allow yourself to take a long, leisurely look around as you step inside. It’s a really nice space, with a large window letting a lot of bright, natural light into the room. Kirishima has added some personal touches with two large posters on the wall, one of Crimson Riot and one of All Might, and several house plants. Your eyes alight on the desk; it’s covered in unfinished paperwork, but the desk chair looks cushy and comfortable.
“Nice place,” you say, and throw him a quick smile.
Predictably, his face flushes a pretty pink colour. He grins back, then gestures towards his desk chair. “Ah, you sit down! I’ll go grab another chair!”
“Oh, no, don’t worry about that!” you say quickly, reaching out to grab his arm before he can make for the door. Now that you’re actually holding him though, it’s a fight to stop your face from flushing as you prepare to move to the next step of your plan. Maintaining a loose grip on his arm, you hop up on the desk and set the bento next you. It’s a tight fit between the edge of the desk and the messy piles of paperwork, but there’s just enough room for you. You beam at him, then point to the chair. “You sit!”
Kirishima hovers for a moment, clearly torn between insisting you take the comfortable chair and doing as you say, before finally giving in and settling into the chair. “So,” he says, and his sharp grin is back and bigger than ever, “This is a nice surprise!”
“Yeah?” you ask, relieved that he doesn’t think you’re being too presumptuous. “I’ve, um… I’ve been thinking about you.”
Kirishima’s eyes had been drifting towards the bento, but at your words they snap right back to your face. You’re certain that you’re turning red, and the look of surprise on his face isn’t helping your confidence right now. But if you look past the mild surprise, you’re pretty sure you can see a hopeful shine in his eyes. You really hope you’re not imagining it. God, why is this so difficult? You’ve both already confessed!
“You have?”
“Yeah.” you laugh, and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You carefully rearrange your legs, and watch as Kirishima glances down at the movement. His gaze sticks.
You had been so careful picking out your outfit that morning; a simple white blouse that framed your cleavage perfectly, and your most flattering skirt. The best part of the outfit though was underneath. The black stockings you wore were held up by lacy thigh garters that were hidden by the skirt unless you crossed your legs just right. You had bought the dark red lingerie set with this moment in mind, but now that you were here you had to keep mentally psyching yourself up so you wouldn’t chicken out. At the very least, the garters had caught Kirishima’s attention.
He seems to catch himself though, and looks away swiftly. He’s so polite. His face is almost the colour of his hair, but he tries to laugh it off as he says, “Well, you came at just the right time! I’m starving!”
He reaches for the bento right as you uncross your legs, and your knee knocks his hand aside. “Wait,” you say, and he freezes, “What were you looking at just now?”
“Wha-? Nothing!” He says hastily, looking distinctly mortified.
“Nothing?” you repeat lightly, slipping off the desk. Your skirt has ridden up a little, so the garters and thigh high stockings are clearly on display now. Kirishima looks both hopefully excited and totally confused, a combination that’s unexpectedly endearing.
“Y/N-” he begins, but cuts himself off with a choke when you sink to your knees in front of him. “You-”
“I want to.” You promise, predicting his protest. Your hands skim lightly over his thighs, and even through his loose-fitting uniform pants you can feel the hard muscles in his legs. Combined with the sight of his sculpted torso, you can’t help but be struck by just how well-built Kirishima really is. Not that you didn’t already know that, obviously, but seeing it makes all the difference.
You reach for his belt and begin to undo his pants. Kirishima makes an odd little noise at that, but it doesn’t sound like a protest and he’s not telling you to stop; his eyes are wide as he watches you pull his pants down. You pause, uncertainty catching up to you as you make eye contact with him. “Is this okay?”
“Okay?” he repeats with a strained laugh. “Uh. Yeah. This is, uh. This is more than okay.”
You smile then, confidence returning as you run your hands up his thighs again. This time, he shifts a little, and your attention is drawn to the growing bulge in his underwear. You bite your lip and tilt your head, curious despite yourself; this is the first time that you’ve actually seen his dick, after all. Running a single finger down the outline of his cock through his underwear has Kirishima twitching, and you can’t help but clench your legs together as you hear him take a sharp inhale through his nose. As you massage his length through his underwear, you can feel his cock begin to thicken and fill out, and Kirishima mumbles a quiet curse. You look up, and when you make eye contact you say, “I want to blow you.”
Kirishima’s mouth drops open a little. He searches your face, as though waiting for you to laugh and yell ‘sike!’, but when he doesn’t find any trace of a lie he closes his mouth with an audible click. “I- That sounds grea- I mean, you don’t have to-!”
“I want to.” You say again. When he still looks kinda blank, you offer him a sweet little smile. “Promise.”
He blinks once, and then bursts into motion as he wiggles out of his underwear. Once his pants and underwear are around his ankles, he settles back into the desk chair and watches you with widened eyes. You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing at his eagerness. You reach out and run your hands over his stomach, down through the coarse dark hair and finally settling on his cock.
He’s hard. Like, really hard. You nearly wonder if he’s using his quirk, but the skin is still velvety soft and smooth so you figure he’s just really, really, horny. When you lean forward and press a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock you’re rewarded with a generous dribble of precum spilling from his slit. You can’t help but laugh a little as it dribbles down the side of his dick, your finger swiping through it to stop its descent.
“Sorry.” Kirishima is flushed as red as his hair. Thanks to his hero costume, you can see that the flush travels all the way down his chest. Even his nipples are blushing pink.
“What are you apologising for?” You press another kiss to his cock, this time on the vein running down the underside of his length. You’re rewarded with his hips flexing, his abdominals rippling. It’s a very fetching sight.
“I don’t know.” Kirishima says on a sigh, eyes fixed on your face. He opens his mouth to say something, but then you take the head of his cock in your mouth and suckle on it, and it seems as though his thoughts effectively scatter. “Oh!”
You feel his fingers threading into your hair, right at the roots, and moan softly. You can’t take him entirely into your mouth and you’re kind of nervous about gagging (because nothing would ruin the mood more than you vomiting all over Kirishima’s cock), so you wrap your fingers around the base of his dick and squeeze softly as you bob your head up and down.
You’re starting to get into a rhythm of sucking and licking when his hips twitch sharply. “Y/N,” he gasps, and tugs a little on your hair.
“Hm?” You pull off his cock, your lips dragging over his length the whole way up. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” he blurts, his hips shifting around, “I definitely don’t want you to stop. Um, that is if you don’t want to stop-”
You grin at him, heart thrumming in excitement. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Okay.” he breathes, his lips stretching into a returning grin.
“Although,” you continue, your fingers playing with his spit-slicked cock as his hips twitch against your hand, “I wouldn’t mind doing something else.”
“Something else?” He looks a little disappointed as he watches you get to your feet, but that disappears swiftly as you lift your leg and straddle him.
“Yeah,” you say softly, settling into his lap. His eyes flick from your face to your chest to where your panties and garters are exposed by the skirt that’s ridden up around your hips, then back to your face, as though he can’t decide on where to look. You card your fingers through the soft, ungelled hair and the nape of his neck and feel him shudder softly beneath you, “Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” he breathes, reaching up and flicking the top few buttons of your blouse open. He inhales deeply as he reaches into your blouse and caresses your breasts through the bra, glancing up to meet your eyes. “You look so good in red.”
“I bought it just for you.” you murmur, a little embarrassed as he runs the pads of his thumb over your nipple through the lace cup of the bra. You shift forward on his lap, and he spreads his legs so that you don’t fall. You end up right over his exposed cock, and you settle yourself gently down so that you can feel the heat of his hardness through your panties.
“You did? Shit.” Kirishima’s hips hump into you as he leans forward and buries his face in the hollow of your throat. His hands skim down your waist and over the curve of your ass, “Can I-?”
“You can do whatever you want.” you whisper into his ear, echoing your words from the night you had gotten drunk together. His eyes flash, and then his hands are gripping your ass tight as he surges up into you. “Please-”
“Desk.” he grunts, then stands. You gasp and cling to him, legs wrapped tight around his waist -- he doesn’t even seem to notice your weight as he steps forward, then places you down on the surface of his desk. He didn’t even bother to clear away the paperwork, so you’re set down right on top of a bunch of forms.
“Your work-” you start to say, but you’re cut off by Kirishima capturing your mouth in a hot, messy open-mouthed kiss. You moan into the wetness of his mouth, and then gasp as you feel his fingers running up your slit through the panties.
“Don’t worry about it.” he murmurs, pushing the panties aside and dipping the tips of his fingers into your wetness.
You hiss through your teeth as he starts to rub circles around your clit, trailing kisses around your neck and shoulders. “Kirishima,” you say softly, rolling your hips to meet his fingers, “Please.” You don’t even know what you’re asking for, but thankfully Kirishima seems to know what he’s doing; his shyness from early has all but disappeared as he presses kisses to your collarbones. His index and middle fingers sink inside you while his thumb rolls leisurely circles around your clit -- he has your hips jerking in no time, and the little smile he presses into your skin shows just how proud he is of that fact.
All too soon, he pulls away. You make a little noise of disappointment, but he only moves far enough back that he has a good view of you spread out on his desk. You can’t help but flush as his gaze tracks over you. You’re a mess; your blouse is unbuttoned down to your waist and totally rumpled, your bra is askew, and your skirt is hiked up around your waist. Kirishima seems to like what he’s seeing though, if the way his grip tightens on your hip is any indication.
“You look so good.” His voice is a little hoarse, but he sounds appreciative as his fingers hook around your panties and drag them down your thighs. Your hips twitch up off the desk towards him, which makes him smile as he leans his head down and presses a soft kiss to your pussy.
“Kiri,” you whisper, squirming on the desk, “Come on.”
“I don’t have a condom-” he begins, straightening up so he can look you in the eye.
You shift a little and put your hand in the left cup of your bra, where you had stuffed the little foil square. When you pull out the condom, Kirishima’s face is absolutely priceless. “Um. Here.”
Kirishima looks at it for a long moment. When he takes it, it’s with a devilishly sharp grin. “Wow, you really did come prepared.”
You blush at the teasing, but sit up and crane your neck so you can watch him roll the condom on. His cockhead is flushed so red it looks almost purple; you can guess it almost hurts. When the condom is on, he presses his hips to yours and ruts his cock along your pussy. You whine as it presses against your clit, and hump your hips back against his for some friction.
“You definitely want this?” Kirishima asks, the tip of his dick running back and forth right along your slit.
You look at him in some disbelief; you’re lying on his desk in total disarray, wantonly begging for him, and he still has to ask? “Baby,” you say gently, reaching for his face, “I want this so, so bad. I know you do, too.”
Kirishima curses and then captures your mouth in a messy, sloppy kiss at the same time as his hips twitch forward and he begins to press into you. You moan into his mouth as you feel the heat of him inside you, and he lets out a sharp hiss as he bottoms out. He pauses then, presumably trying to allow you some time to get used to it, but you’re so turned on that you really don’t need the extra time to adjust -- you’ve been touching yourself to the thoughts of this moment every night this week.
“Move,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his hips and trying to press him even closer to you, “Please, please.”
“Yeah,” Kirishima grunts, pulling his back only to snap forward again shallowly, “Damn. You’re so tight, so warm.”
You feel so full, and the fulfilment of finally having him fucking you like this is making your thoughts go hazy. If you thought dry-humping with him was hot, it was nothing compared to having him actually touch you. Your ankles lock around his ass, encouraging his hips into yours with every thrust he makes. Beneath you, Kirishima’s paperwork crinkles and falls to the side, spare sheets of paper fluttering to the floor as your body is shifted by his thrusting into you.
Kirishima keeps trailing kisses along your neck and chest, licking stripes over your tits even as his hips snap back and forth. “Beautiful girl,” he murmurs into the skin between your breasts.
“Fuck!” you gasp, pulling on his hair as his hand drifts down and begins playing with your clit. “Feels.. Feels so good-”
“This is what you came for, huh?” he grunts, nipping at the sensitive patch of flesh just under your earlobe, “You wanted to get fucked on my desk?”
“Anywhere,” you sigh, arching into him, “As long as it was you doing the fucking.”
The sound Kirishima makes is close to a whimper, but then his lips latch around one of your tits and the pace of his fucking increases until you’re the one gasping out whispers. You grind your own hips back against him and into his hand, whining as the motion of his fingers circling your clit gets harder and faster.
The soft panting sounds that Kirishima makes as he fucks you has you clenching around him; you don’t know why it sounds so hot, it just does. And then one of his thrusts hits a something inside you that makes you go rigid, and you gasp out, “There, oh my god, again! Kiri, please, fuck me there again-”
“Yeah,” Kirishima says breathlessly, and when he fucks into you again he hits that same spot again, and again, and again, “Whatever you want, baby.”
You remember him saying those words to you only last week, during that night where the two of you had lost yourselves in each other. It only takes one more thrust into you before your body is clenching hard, your muscles going taut as you gasp and whine. Your orgasm rocks through your whole body like shockwaves, and you cling tight to Kirishima’s shoulders as he continues to roll circles into your clit until your legs are shaking.
As soon as you’re finished coming, Kirishima pulls out of you. You’re about to complain, but then he yanks the condom off and throws it aside as he begins to tug on his cock, gasping and thrusting into his own fist. Before you can even offer to help him out with it, he’s leaning over you and groaning loud and long as he spills his come all over your puffy, exposed sex.
The two of you pant hard as you struggle to gain back your breath, Kirishima’s face tucked into your neck. As the both of you start to calm down, he presses soft little kisses to your throat. “That,” he murmurs into your skin, “was… it was really, really good.”
“Yeah,” you agree breathlessly with a laugh. You feel like you’re floating. “I didn’t think I could come harder than I did on Friday night, but I think you just proved me wrong.”
Kirishima laughs a little as he stands up and reaches out to straighten your skirt and readjust your bra for you. “What happened Friday night?”
Your smile freezes a little, and you blink at him. “What do you mean?”
Once he’s finished buttoning back up your blouse, he meets your gaze with a puzzled little smile. “What happened on Friday night?”
“I- you know, when we…” you trail off, bewildered.
Kirishima looks as confused as you feel. “Oh man, were you trying to get laid on Friday? Did I cockblock you? I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”
“What,” you interrupt, starting to panic a little, “are you talking about?”
“You had to bring me home with you on Friday cause I was blackout drunk, right? I don’t remember a thing, only waking up at yours the next day! Bakugou told me I was super annoying though, so if I ruined your night I’m so, so sorry-!”
“Oh my god.” you say faintly. You can feel the blood rush to your face. You have absolutely no idea how to handle this situation. You’re hyper-aware of his cum drying on your skin. “Right. Um. First things first, can I have a tissue?”
“Oh! Of course! Hang on, let me.” Kirishima says, insisting on wiping you clean himself.
Once you’re clean and you’ve pulled your panties back up, you settle back against the desk to look at him properly. “You don’t remember anything?”
Kirishima, buckling his pants back up, shifts uncomfortably, as though he’s clued in to the fact that he’s missing something. “Uh… Other than drinking a lot and harassing the DJ to play One, Two Step? Not really.” He’s starting to look worried. “Did I do something?”
You stare stupidly at him. You’re not altogether sure of what your face looks like right now, but apparently your expression is enough to have Kirishima frowning concernedly at you. “But,” you start, “But we’ve been flirting so much ever since..?”
At that, Kirishima’s cheeks flush pink and he scratches the back of his head. “Oh, yeah, I’ve, uh, noticed that. I mean, I’ve liked you for a while now.”
“I know you have.” you say faintly. You can’t quite believe this is happening.
“You do?” Kirishima asks with an abashed smile, then gestures at the messy desk. “Is that what this was about? Oh god, did I confess to you when I was drunk?”
“Something like that.” you manage to say. You tug at your skirt, embarrassed now. “Oh god. Um. You know what, forget about it. Uh, here, take your bento-” you try to hand him the lunchbox and run past him in the same movement, but his arms come up and trap you against his chest.
“Whoah, wait! Okay, I’m obviously missing something here. Please tell me?” Kirishima begs, his face twisted with concern. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” you say quickly, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just, um..” you trail off, wondering how the hell to begin explaining exactly what had happened. Kirishima watches you expectantly, his red eyes shining. He’s starting to look nervous.
“Did we…” he trails off, then gives the desk a significant look.
“You humped me through my panties till we both came.” you blurt, unable to keep it in any longer. “I told you that I liked you and then you told me you liked me back, and then we fell asleep.”
Kirishima’s jaw hangs slack, his mouth open. He blinks at you in silence for several long seconds before finally closing his mouth. “You like me back?” he asks, as though double-checking that he had heard correctly.
“How is that the only part you heard?” you whine, covering your face with your hands. This was mortifying!
“Aw, man,” Kirishima says at almost the same time, pulling at his hair, “I can’t believe I did that! That’s so lame of me, I can’t believe you confessed and I forgot, what the hell, I’ve been dreaming of this since UA-!” Then he breaks off and squints a little. “I dry-humped you? Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, that is so not manly-”
You start to chuckle. It starts out quietly, but after a moment or two you’re bent double with your hands on your knees, wheezing. “We’re so stupid,” you gasp out, tears of mirth in your eyes. “Oh my god.”
Kirishima chuckles quietly along with you, his hands coming up to rest on your waist. “I really am sor-”
“Don’t,” you interrupt, reaching up to cover his mouth, “Don’t apologise. It was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Really?” Kirishima asks, wide-eyed.
“Yeah.” you laugh, “Except, I think, for what happened just now.” A thought occurs to occurs to you all of a sudden and you lean back to look him in the eye, “Hang on, so when I said I wanted to blow you-”
“I was so confused!” Kirishima admits cheerfully, grinning, “I had no idea what was going on! I really appreciated it though!”
“Oh, god,” you bury your face in your elbow, mortified. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Well, it’s not as if I was going to ask you to not give me a blowjob.” he points out, his tone suggesting that you really should have thought of that. “I’ve liked you for ages, and you look really, really sexy in that.” he tugs at the hem of your skirt, and his fingers slip up your thighs to fondle the garters.
You relax into his touch, a small smile beginning to play around your lips. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” he grins, his thumbs moving in broad strokes over the backs of your thighs. “Hey, is now a good time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”
Your face breaks into a bright, sunny smile. “Yes!”
“Okay!” Kirishima says, breathy with excitement, and leans in to kiss your forehead. “Awesome! Wanna go for dinner tonight?”
“Yeah,” you nod. You can’t stop smiling; your cheeks are starting to ache. “Yeah, that sounds great!”
“Great! But for now,” he picks the bento off the desk and holds it up, his smile turning shy and hopeful. “Eat lunch with me?”
#kirishima x reader#kirishima eijiro x reader#kirishima imagine#mha kirishima#kirishima eijirou x reader#kirishima eijirou#mha x reader#mha imagines#bnha x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
“Saturday Morning”
Paring: Max Cady x Reader
Word Count: 2k
WELL I guess this is my little valentine’s surprise for you all :) thanks so much for being AMAZING. The beautiful friends I have made on this site are priceless, and I am excited to keep writing for y’all!! Enjoy!
Warnings: None, but it is a bit suggestive, this is Max Cady
His offer came as a random musing on a Saturday morning. You were sprawled out across the couch, fanning yourself with your hand. Another unseasonably hot day scorched the state of North Carolina, the heat making you unmotivated to even switch your position on the couch.
Max sat across the room, reading the daily newspaper in his favorite lounge chair. A cigar at his lips, he’s deep in concentration, lost in the pages of whatever local story caught his eye. Ever since learning to read during his 16 year jail sentence, Max found himself always compelled to pick up whatever book or paper was nearest to him. It’s almost like he’s scared he’ll lose the skill if he doesn’t constantly keep his mind sharp.
The room is comfortably silent, the only noises coming from the small electric fan whirring in the corner and the occasional flipping of pages from Max’s newspaper.
However, that silence does not last long as Max’s voice cuts through.
“Hey, (Y/N), I've been thinkin’ about something recently, mind if I run an idea by you?”
You hang your head upside down from the couch, meeting Max’s eyes from across the room. “Yeah of course, what’s up?”
“Well.....I’ve been thinkin’ a lot recently about getting another tattoo.” You smile, he knows how much you love his tattoos. How many evenings you’d just lay on his bare chest, tracing the outlines of the intricate designs, running your fingers across the individual letters of the words that adorn his body. “And I need a bit of your help.”
“Really? What were you thinking about getting this time Max?”
“Hmm well...” He smiles, taking a thorough drag of his cigar. Exhailing, he looks towards you, “I was thinkin’ I’d let you decide my next tattoo. In fact, I would like you to give me a tattoo. Hand drawn, something that represents you.”
You look at him blankly, “Okay. Very funny Max, I’m laughing so hard. C’mon, you couldn’t possibly be serious?”
He shakes his head at you, “Oh no doll, I’m as serious as a heart attack. I mean, only if you’re comfortable. Don’t wanna force you into anything you don’t feel A Okay with.”
“What would I even draw?” You sit upright, swinging your legs around to sit upright on the couch. I’m not sure I...even would know where to begin on how to use a tattoo needle.” You see Max put down his newspaper from across the room, and take this as an invitation. You cross over to him, crawling into his lap. “And I mean, are you sure you want something so permanent on your body left in my hands?”
Max Cady’s body is an open book - a testament to his dedication for his religion, his dedication to life, his dedication to love, and even lost love. What if you messed everything up?
Max holds your face in his hands, looking deep into your eyes. His large digits stroke your face reassuringly. “Oh come now babygirl, my body is a tribute to everything I love, everything that’s important to me, everything that means something in this life.” He pauses a bit, letting his words sink into your brain.
“And...I would be honored if the most beautiful, perfect angel who has been sent by God himself would bless me with her talents and create a permanent marking on my flesh.”
His eyes travel down your face, from your eyes, to your nose, and finally setting his gaze on your lips. He noticed the gentle pink blush that creeps up your neck, spilling over onto your cheeks. “Yes ma’am, you’re the only woman I'll ever let touch my worldly body like this....”
He moves his head down towards you, giving you a rough, open mouthed kiss. When he pulls away, your head spins, and you give out a little laugh. It’s high pitched and giddy, sounding like tiny bubbles to Max’s ears. There’s something about him that always makes you feel like a schoolgirl with a secret crush.
“Well, darlin’ no time like the present.” Max removes one hand from your cheek, moving to grab your hand in a firm hold. He pulls your hand, gently guiding you to your shared bedroom. “Lemme show you my tools.”
He crawls underneath the bed, pulling out a large, black box. “Now, I'm sure you know when in prison all my tattoos were hand done by yours truly, not a simple task, givin’ yourself a tattoo like that. No ma’am.”
He smiles, opening up the box to reveal a crude stick-n-poke setup. “Oh yeah, she’s a beauty isn’t she?” Max’s eyes sparkle, as if he just reconvened with an old friend. And in a way, he has. “It’s very easy, I promise no fear here lil’ darlin’ If I can do it, I know you can too.”
As delicate as a man like Max Cady can be, he dips a tiny metal rod within a bottle of ink. “All you gotta do, is take this little needle, and poke whatever design you want into my skin.” He gestures towards you, handing over the needle. You hold it awkwardly in your hands.
“Max, what if it looks bad?” You question, some of your previous fears coming back to repeat themselves in your head.
“Baby, anything you draw won’t look bad, because you’re the one doin’ it. I mean, you should be honored. I wouldn’t let just anyone carve something on my body to remain for all eternity. Darlin’, don't think.” Max removes his shirt, pulling it over the top of his head. You scan over his chiseled body, now designated as your artistic playground today. “Just go with what feels right.”
Hesitantly, you search his body for a suitable spot. Finally settling on a space by his left ribs, you ghost your fingers in a circle, indicating the area you desired with your fingers.
“Is right here ok?”
“Darlin’, I want you to leave your mark wherever your pretty little head desires, okay,” Max gives you a playful ruffle of your hair. He leans back on the bed, giving you easier access to the area in question. Putting his hands behind his head, he gets himself into a comfortable position. He knows this might take awhile.
“Okay.” You contemplate for a moment, wondering what tattoo would be appropriate for someone like Max Cady. He did give you complete free reign, as long as the tattoo could be a representation of you and your love. But at the same time, you wanted to make sure they complemented the other ones he already had.
After some contemplation, you finally decide on a tattoo of your favorite flower. Something that is inconspicuous enough to be beautiful on its own, but has a special meaning the two of you will understand.
Carefully, you make the first poke, and scan Max’s face for any sign of pain. Suprisingly, his eyes still remain closed. He looked perfectly relaxed and content despite you practically jabbing a needle into the second layer of his skin.
“Did...did you feel that?”
“Huh?”
“Did you feel that. The needle. Did it hurt?” You look up wide eyed, searching Max’s face for any possible sign indicating how he was feeling, good or bad.
Max lets out a chuckle, a low, deep rumble that shook the bed slightly. “Darlin’ you are too sweet, you know that? Worried about a big man like me gettin’ hurt with a little needle like that. To answer your question, no. I didn’t feel it. But when you’ve gotten tattoos as many times as I have, I’ve gotten pretty used to the feeling. You won’t hurt me, I promise doll.”
With a little reassurance from Max, you gain a little bit more confidence in your work. You being to work more carefully on creating the outline of the flower. Your hands are wobbly, and you have a hard time steadying yourself. Honestly, who even knows if it’s gonna look like a flower at the end of this?
But, it’s not really about that, is it? It’s more about Max’s full trust and love for you, letting you create something so personal to adorn his skin for eternity. Something to remind him of you each time he sees it.
Still with his eyes closed, Max muses out after a while. “Better not be drawin’ anything naughty on my body now. My flesh is a temple dedicated to the Lord, I don’t want to tarnish it with filth, lil’ darling.”
You smile, putting on a fake voice of embarrassment. “Oh no...mmm this is gonna be a problem isn’t it . . . . well I don’t think you’re gonna like the giant penis I’m currently working on.” His eyes flutter open.
Max looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. “(Y/N).” He says in a low, commanding voice, drawing out each syllable of your name in his southern drawl. You know this tone. This is Max’s way of telling you to watch yourself, and not to push your luck. Or else face the consequences.
“I was just kidding...” your voice gets smaller, feeling the presence of Max Cady’s more dominant side coming out. His face is stone, coiled up in an expression of disappointment akin to that of a father catching his child with his hand in the cookie jar.
Suddenly he relaxes in a second, his entire demeanor changing. It’s quite scary how your boyfriend can do that at the drop of a hat.
“Aww I know doll, I’m just toyin’ with ya a bit. You get so flustered easily,” he chuckles, playfully pinching your cheek. “My little blushy girl....you’re silly...get back to work now, you’re doing beautifully, really somethin’ to behold. Maybe I’ll have you do all of my tattoos in the future. Would you like that, baby?”
“Of course I would, daddy,” you tease him back, letting the words roll off your tongue in a seductive growl. He groans at your little petname - he’ll crawl through hell just to hear you call him that 5-letter word.
“Oooo, you naughty girl, don’t tempt me now with a good time now baby,” He smiles, getting comfortable again as you resume your work. “We’ve got more pressing matters to attend to right now.”
Despite your earlier trepidation, your tattoo work is surprisingly decent. I mean, the tattoo does look like your favorite flower, that has to count for something?
The entire process takes you about two hours to full completion, the morning filled with the soft sounds of oldie’s music coming Max's record player from the corner of the room, and your occasional playful banter back and forth. His body stayed completely still. You couldn’t help but notice your boyfriend’s extreme physical discipline, wondering exactly how he does it.
“Ok Max, I think I’m done. Do you want to take a look?”
Stepping away, you finally look at your completed work in full. You only stuck with a simple outline of the flower you chose, deciding not to try anything too intricate or complex. It was minimalist, but seemed to fit Max Cady’s aesthetic very well.
Max finally opens his eyes, looking down at the new tattoo adorning his left rib. He smiles, slowly sitting up to inspect it closer. “Oh, doll. You never told me you were an artist. Look at that...” He runs his finger gently over the new flower tattoo. “It’s absolutely divine.” Max continues to run his hands across it, realizing you’ve indeed left your permanent mark on him. “Here,” he guides your hand, running it along the tattoo as well.
For a few moments, Max doesn’t say anything. Just enjoying this moment between the two of you, after the creation of something so beautiful. The ultimate trust between two human being was just shared in this odd little bedroom.
“I think this might be my best tattoo, and I’m not just sayin’ that because you made it, darlin’.”
“Really?” You sound a little bit more excited than you were expecting. You just couldn’t believe how well your tattoo came out, a sense of accomplishment and pride washed over you.
“Mhmm,” He pulls you into bed with him, laying you next to him. You both stare up at the ceiling in pure bliss. “You’re a sure fire natural, baby.” He wraps a strong, protective arm around you. “And I wasn’t kidding earlier, I’d love for you to do all my tattoos in the future. Especially if they look as good as this one.”
“You’d know I'd love to.” You turn to him, pressing your foreheads together. He takes this opportunity to give you another breathtaking kiss like the one from earlier.
No where else in the world would you rather spend a Saturday morning than here, in your shared apartment, with the love of your life - Max Cady.
#Max Cady x reader#Max Cady imagine#robert de niro x reader#robert de niro imagine#robert deniro imagine#robert deniro x reader
86 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello!!!
Ahh I recently read the first chapter of 'The Sun God's Bride' and omgg I'm so sooooo excited!!!!! It looks like it's going to a fun and emotional journey!!!
I love your world building!! Its so realistic but fantastical?? Idk like it just seems sooo lovely, pls I wanna live there 😫🤲💖
I'm curious! When building a world what's your process?? Do you use references such as art and photography to build the world along with your own imagination?? I've noticed that you like to draw, do you draw concept art???
Also!! Pls I'm so in love with how you reference 'flower girl' in your work! Its such a cute and fun little nod to surrender!
Ahh I look forward to going along this journey with you!!! Super excited for the next chapter!!! 💖💖💖
Hello Anima!!!!!!
I want us to live in the Sun God world too. 😩 We could be temple brats, surely it’d be easy… swimming in pools and idk…. eating fruit, LOL. (Oh my gosh though LOL i’m…. so glad you like the florist references :’) IM SORRY GUYS, but that little joke/thread makes me way too happy so i’m just going to include it in everything LOL. like a multiverse theory — somewhere out there, a flower girl version of us is just living their best life, over and over again, falling in love a hundred different ways :’)))) )
But okay, to the crux of your ask — I like to make moodboards when starting a story!!!! I do this for everything, literally, not just fanfics (I made a moodboard for my friend’s and I’s summer trip last year LMAO no chill :’) ). But I have a weheartit account that’s like a million years old, so I use that to collect inspo. Basically, like, if I’ve decided to write something I generally know the feel of it, if that makes sense? So I use my moodboards as a way to pinpoint key visuals/feelings I wanna convey (or just for extra inspo!). Like, for instance, this is just some of the images I have saved under my Sun God board:
Not everything will make it into the final product that is the fic — but this is generally a good way to remind myself what I was trying to achieve LOL. They also have the added bonus of being the images I’ll use when I post about the chapter updates, here on tumbles!!! But as I continue to work on a story, I’ll keep adding to each board as needed — weeding out pictures that don’t work anymore, adding new ones. These are some of the latest ones for something (just like this):
My process for any kind of world building, whether it’s trying to create a fantasy world, or just expanding on a canon one is pretty much just to give myself visual keys!!! Like, I’ll make a few written notes of things in my initial outlining of stuff, but generally, I’ll know a story is sticking if I’ve driven to scribbling for it, or doing this collecting of inspo. Like, with the Todoroki x Reader fic I wanna do, after Deku’s, I’m currently in the “throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” stage:
So what I have currently is just…. flat-out inspo, Idea collecting. The earlier images I have for it are very ocean/sea based, because I started musing about this before I wrote The Widening Sky — so a lot of my oceany-inspo can be seen here, LOL, I dunno if the final product will be as…….. dependant, on the sea, for all that it starts off on a beach.
Doodling for the fics isn’t as common as it is when I’m working on something original — what I’ll draw instead, if I need to, are like, key details. So for example, this one here is — a rough idea of like, how I visualised the cove in The Widening Sky. A priestess/temple Sister sketch for a ceremony in The Sun God’s Bride. And some details from the outfits I’m going to force Y/N to wear in Chapter Four of something (just like this)! LOL
What I really like to draw is how I imagine the characters to look like — with fanfiction I don’t really need to do that, lmao, since most of our cast already exists, but I have drawn what I personally see the Readers as?? I’d never share those sketches though lmao, because I wouldn’t want anyone to like…. see that, instead of what they want. And it’s fun seeing other people’s interpretations!!!!
Saying all that, I guess the “world-building” process kind of looks like this, all together:
this is something I’ve compiled for the manuscript I currently have collecting dust lmao. Doodles, moodboard, mock covers because i’m vain LMAOOO dslkfjsdlkfjkldsfjkldsfj. I’ll have all these bits and pieces in their own folder!! they make me happy to look at ldfkjksdlfjkdlsj. I like having things in front of me, LOL.
whew this was longer than i intended dslkfjsdkljsdkljfkdlsfj i hope it was somehow enlightening??? basically — i just think of something, and then collect a bunch of pictures LOL. and if that fails, i’ll draw some. :’) Thank-you for asking me LOL, i had fun talking about my little visual aids — I’m excited for The Sun God’s Bride, too, and excited we’re starting out on it together. 💖🌷 Here’s to the adventure ahead. 🌅
#ofmermaidstories-asks#anima197 and the sunny days ahead ☀️🌷🌾#thank u for this ask anima i took great delight in answering it LOL#ofmermaidsdoodles#the sun god’s bride - fic#mer-spoils-everything
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
a little jealousy.
pairing: kamado tanjirou x sumiyuri hayami (oc)
genre: fluff; kimetsu academy!au
word count: 7429
remarks: another commission by @hinokami-s!! honestly this one was a bit of a struggle trying to not make it too kdrama like but also with trying my hand with a new character who i don’t really know, so thank you for challenging me with this! i hope you enjoy it <3
The stage lights dim all at once, adding a dramatic flair as the curtains fall - slowly concealing the scene of a young woman bleeding out on the floor and the man cradling her in his arms. The theatre is hushed except for the sound of gears and wheels turning to move the heavy curtains, the audience still reeling in shock over the twist in the plot and the bittersweet ending.
Well, except one person, perhaps.
“Ooh, is the next performance Hayami’s?” Nezuko whispers from next to him, nearly bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement. She hasn’t been able to concentrate much on the entire series of performances showcased by the other clubs at their school, too distracted by the prospect of the finale. Tanjirou only gives a fond smile and nods. Although he’s a lot more calm than Nezuko is, he can’t help but anticipate the next performance as well.
After all, Hayami is going to be the one performing.
“I’m so excited,” Nezuko gushes. “Hayami showed me a bit of what they were working on a while back, and it was already so cool!”
“Well, she is the president of the dance club,” Tanjirou reminds his sister. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”
Even in the dim light of the auditorium, he can see Nezuko’s teasing little smirk. “Of course you would think so, brother, with your massive crush on Hayami-”
Tanjirou puts his hand over Nezuko’s mouth before his younger sister can blurt it out to the whole world. “Shush, Nezuko,” he tries to say, but Nezuko only laughs playfully, looking far too amused for a younger sister who’s bullying her dear older brother. “What if someone hears?”
“All the better! You’d have more reason to confess to Hayami then!”
“Nezuko, I swear-”
All the stage lights suddenly blink to life in unison, nearly blinding Tanjirou and making Nezuko squeal in excitement. “It’s starting! It’s starting! Wait, I need to get out my phone and take some videos for Instagram…”
Tanjirou, on the other hand, simply relaxes back into the plush seat of the performance hall, intent on watching the performance properly. It’s rare that he has free time like today, oftentimes being too busy with school, his part time job or his responsibilities at the family bakery to really enjoy himself like a regular high school student would. But Hayami had insisted, even going as far to offer both him and Nezuko free tickets in one of the front row seats, just so the two of them could have some fun and relax.
Well, when she had looked at him so excitedly, explaining all the different shows the performance clubs would be putting on, how could he possibly refuse her good intentions?
Lights flood the stage, the curtains falling to the sides to reveal a group of performers standing on the stage in various confidant poses, their silhouettes outlined against the glowing backdrop. All around them, the speakers start to blare a song - one that Tanjirou is quite sure he’s heard before, but isn’t entirely sure what it is - and it sends the entire audience into loud cheers.
“Oooh, Really Bad Boy by Red Velvet! I approve of this song choice!” Nezuko cheers, waving her phone in the air as the group breaks into a dance. Squinting against the bright lights, Tanjirou tries his best to concentrate on the performance, but he always finds his eyes roaming the performers, as if searching for someone…
“Sing along with us!”
Tanjirou looks up at the stage in surprise at the familiar voice, and his eyes widen when he sees Hayami standing at the very edge closest to him. There’s striking makeup done artfully on her face and she almost glows under the lights of the stage, a fierce yet ethereal aura radiating from her. The sight is almost enough to take Tanjirou’s breath away.
Just at that moment, Hayami glances down at the front row when Tanjirou looks up, and their gazes meet for the briefest of seconds. Hayami’s eyes gleam like fine cut amethysts, sparkling in the light, her platinum hair swinging out behind her in a high ponytail. And when their gazes meet in the middle, Hayami grins at him - a bright, unrestrained sight that has Tanjirou’s heart skipping in his chest.
“Brother, your blush is showing, you know!” Nezuko calls over the heavy bass coming over the speakers, and Tanjirou instantly clasps both hands over his cheeks, feeling slight heat along his palms. At his mortification, Nezuko only laughs harder, tears nearly escaping her eyes and raising her phone to his face. “You’re so cute, brother! Let me take a photo, I’m sure Hayami would love to see it.”
“No.” Tanjirou tries to make a grab for the phone but misses, and he hears the telltale click of Nezuko’s camera phone. With a long, drawn out sigh, he simply gives up and slumps back into his seat, resigned to watching the rest of the performance. There’s no stopping Nezuko when she’s in a playful mood like this, he thinks to himself with fond ruefulness. Well, he doesn’t really mind it, though…
The performance ends with a bang, and Tanjirou joins the audience in giving a standing ovation as the rest of the performers stream onto the stage for their final bow. And as confetti rains down from the ceiling, gold streamers and coloured paper dancing through the air, Tanjirou thinks that Hayami looks absolutely radiant.
As soon as the performance night is over and the performers have all retreated backstage, the audience begins streaming out of the halls, chattering excitedly about all the different shows that were put on that night. Tanjirou, on the other hand, remains firmly rooted to his seat, his bag held tightly to his chest as if he’s carrying glass with him.
“Hayami’s performance was so cool! God, if I knew how to dance I’d join her club right away - wait, I’m not even in high school yet. That’s fine, that’s fine. It just means that I have more time to learn how to dance,” Nezuko glances back to see her older brother not listening to her in the least, instead dedicating his attention to checking the contents of his bag carefully. Curious, she leans over to catch a glance. “What’s that?”
Tanjirou jumps at Nezuko’s question, before he relaxes slightly, chewing at his bottom lip with nerves. “Oh, nothing much. It’s just… um, some flowers.” Nezuko’s eyes widen in interest. Who knew her brother had a romantic bone in his body? “Zenitsu mentioned yesterday that it’s customary for other students to bring flowers for their friends who perform as congratulatory gifts, so I stopped by Kanae-san’s flower shop after school today to get some for her...”
Nezuko immediately reaches for his bag, and Tanjirou holds it high out of her reach, suddenly feeling embarrassed for no reason at all. “What flowers did you get her?” Nezuko chirps, waving her hands high in the air as she attempts to get a look. “Please don’t tell me you got her a head of cabbage or, god forbid, a broccoli flower. Knowing you, brother…”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
Finally giving up on trying to get her hands on Tanjirou’s mystery bouquet, Nezuko only pouts and relents. “Well, since you’ve got flowers to give to Hayami, let’s head backstage! I know a few friends in the drama club who performed today, so they’ll let us in.” Tanjirou frowns a little at how excited his younger sister seems to be in his place.
“It’s almost as if you’re the one giving the flowers to Hayami,” he says. Nezuko beams at him.
“Of course I have to be involved on your behalf, brother!” She explains, her smile all too wide to be innocent, before she leans in to nudge his side and give him a subtle wink. “Just remember to mention me as your wingwoman during your speech on your wedding day, got it?”
Tanjirou groans.
>>>
Backstage is more chaotic than Tanjirou would have thought.
Even though the performance is already over, participants still rush to and fro different rooms, their arms laden with crumpled costumes or props, faces still done with dramatic stage makeup that looks rather strange in the lighting of the corridors. Nezuko leads Tanjirou down to where the dance club’s room is supposed to be, coaching him on how to present a girl properly with flowers with words of advice such as, “don’t do anything Zenitsu-san would do” and “brother, why didn’t you dress up a little for today’s performance”. After reassuring her for the third time that, no, he hadn’t let Inosuke chomp on his bouquet (although the boy had tried to earlier), Nezuko comes to a stop outside an unassuming room at the very end of the corridor.
The paper stuck on the door reads ‘dance club’, the blank spaces decorated with smiley faces and hearts in various doodling styles. He recognises the wink done in purple ink as one done by Hayami’s hand, and a slight smile touches his lips at the sight of it. He’s seen it many times before - left scrawled in the corner of his exercise books when he visits the maid cafe and on post-its during exam periods - so he recognises her handwriting almost instantly.
“Your hair is awful,” Nezuko complains, reaching out to flatten the top of his hair. His hair looks the same as it always has, but it apparently doesn’t quite pass Nezuko’s standards, so he’s forced to stand stock still with his sister trying to fix his hairdo as people walk by. “You could have thought to dress up a little for today, you know?”
Tanjirou frowns, confused. “For what occasion?”
“You, brother,” Nezuko says delicately as she arranges his bangs, “are so dumb sometimes.”
“What do you mean-”
“Unfortunately, that’s the best I can do right now, and we really need to get going before the dance club needs to leave.” Both hands on his shoulders, Nezuko steers him to the door of the dance club before shoving something into his hand. When he looks down, he’s surprised to see himself holding a bouquet of light purple lilies - when had Nezuko taken them from his bag? “Come on, brother! It’s time to shoot your shot! Make Hayami yours! Put a ring on her-”
“I am not proposing, wait, I’m not even confessing to her!” Tanjirou cries, suddenly panicked. Confessing? He doesn’t even know how she feels about him that way! “I’m just giving her some flowers, like Zenitsu told me to do-”
Behind the two of them, the door suddenly swings open.
“Hey, what’s with all the racket right outside our door? If you have something to say, just-” Tanjirou’s wide eyes meet Hayami’s, and for a moment, the two of them simply stare at each other in surprise. Hayami still hasn’t removed her stage makeup, her lips painted crimson red and bold eyeliner only accentuating her clear lilac eyes.
She looks stunning.
“Oh, Tanjirou, Nezuko, I was just about to go find the two of you myself!” Hayami is talking, but Tanjirou doesn’t really hear her words, a deer caught in the headlights and the lilies growing all too weighty in his hands. “I hope you guys liked the performance! We had to rush to change the formations today since one of the members got sick, so I hope it wasn’t too noticeable.”
“I didn’t even notice, that was amazing!” Nezuko smiles, reaching out to squeeze Hayami’s hands reassuringly. “I really loved the performance, and all the song choices! Keep a spot for me in the team when I finally get to high school, yeah? Or better yet, how about you teach me dance? You were so cool today, I really want to be able to dance like that in the future!”
“Oh, it’s nothing much,” Hayami says bashfully, twirling a lock of platinum hair around her finger. Tanjirou catches a hint of a rosy blush on her cheeks. So cute... “I’m sure you’ll be able to do it if you just try!”
Next to him, Nezuko nudges him in the side and gives the flowers in his hands a meaningful look.
“Oh, right,” Tanjirou fumbles over his words, mind seemingly blank. Flowers. “Uhm, Zenitsu said that I should bring flowers as a congratulatory gift when there are friends performing, so…” He holds out the bouquet, and Hayami’s eyes widen in surprise, seemingly noticing it for the first time. Tanjirou can feel his own cheeks burning. “You looked amazing on the stage today, Hayami.”
Hayami looks down at the small bouquet of lilies in his hands for a moment, before she breaks out into an incandescent smile, almost too bright for Tanjirou to look at. “Thank you,” she says, reaching out to take the bouquet. “I’ll take care of them-”
“Darling!”
Right before Hayami can take the bouquet, a taller figure sweeps past Tanjirou with long, confident strides - making a beeline straight towards Hayami - and plops a massive bouquet of red roses into her outstretched hands. “For you!”
He’s tall, taller than Hayami, with dark hair and matching eyes that shine with mirth. His ears are pierced with little black hoops. Tanjirou thinks he’s seen him around a few times before, constantly surrounded by different people while he remains the nucleus of the conversation. Who is he? From his athletic build and height to the easy way he carries himself, light on the balls of his feet… a sports player, perhaps?
“Hey!” Nezuko protests, possibly indignant at watching her brother’s future romantic relations being ruined on the spot, but Tanjirou doesn’t notice, eyes fixed on the newcomer with a furrowed brow. While Tanjirou normally tries to be patient and polite with everyone he meets (save for his first meeting with Inosuke, but to be fair, the boy had thought that Nezuko had stolen something from him), but he can’t help the strange awkwardness he feels around the taller boy. A little rude, but he seems to know Hayami, so…
“Ginjiro, you shouldn’t have,” Hayami lets out a sigh as she looks over at the bouquet. Her fingertips trace the velvet petals. “How much did this cost? A kidney on the black market?”
“Not quite, but close enough!” The boy, Ginjiro, grins wolfishly at her. There’s a sort of… easygoing, unruly charm to him that Tanjirou can’t quite put his finger on, but he can see why the boy is so popular. “Ninety-nine whole Ecuadorian roses! I’m sure you know what that number means, my dear Hayami.”
Hayami rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but she doesn’t look very put off by his blatant flirting, much to Tanjirou’s surprise and slight unease.
“Ninety nine roses… doesn’t that mean eternal love? Usually given to romantic partners…” Nezuko mutters from behind him, and Tanjirou feels his heart drop in his chest. His sister turns to Hayami, eyes wide with shock. “Hayami, don’t tell me this… guy is your boyfriend?”
“No,” Hayami says flatly, just as Ginjiro sings, “Not yet!” and proceeds to laugh merrily as if he hasn’t just declared his intentions to date Hayami in front of them all. To Tanjirou’s shock, Hayami simply sighs and places a hand on her forehead before turning back to him.
“Ignore him, he’s an idiot.” Hayami tells Tanjirou, attempting a smile to lighten the mood. Try as he might, however, Tanjirou just can’t seem to bring himself to give a genuine one in return. “Let me take those flowers from you. I’m really grateful that you made the time to come today, I know how busy you are at the bakery.”
Even as she does take the flowers from him, Tanjirou can’t help but feel that his lilies are dwarfed in comparison by Ginjiro’s scarlet bouquet, crimson red overpowering the delicate lilac. Tanjirou isn’t one to feel ashamed of his family’s financial situation, but in times like this… he can’t help but feel uncomfortable with the wealth displayed in front of him. And for Hayami to not even bat an eyelash, but seem so completely unimpressed...
The gap between him and Hayami seems to grow just a little wider.
“Anyways, I booked a table at the rooftop restaurant you like, just for the two of us,” Ginjiro continues, without giving Tanjirou a single second to speak. “Let’s go hang out, you’ve been so busy the past few weeks… it’s as if I haven’t seen your face at all for months! I am feeling extremely neglected.”
“It’s because I’ve been busy with planning the dance performance,” Hayami retorts with a shake of the head. “Besides, didn’t you just crash the Student Council meeting yesterday just to steal some snacks off me? Don’t lie about neglect, you little ass.”
“What?” Ginjiro puts a hand over his chest, batting his eyelashes so furiously Tanjirou wonders if they’ll fall off. “You know it’s because I missed you, Hayami dear.”
Tanjirou does not know how to act - not when another man is so clearly vying for Hayami’s attention. If he were making Hayami uncomfortable in any way, Tanjirou would have been more than happy to see him off, but Hayami seems to know him, and actually seems… rather close to him.
It makes Tanjirou slightly uncomfortable.
“Oh right, Tanjirou, Nezuko, you haven’t met Ginjiro before, have you?” Hayami says. Stiffly, Tanjirou nods in agreement, but Nezuko pipes up.
“You’re Sato Ginjiro, aren’t you? Captain of the basketball club? I heard Zenitsu complaining about him before, saying that he’s too popular with the girls.” She mutters, folding her arms over her chest and Ginjiro grins widely as Hayami only rolls her eyes. “He’s got quite a… reputation.”
As if trying to ease the awkwardness in the air, Hayami only gives a placating smile, stepping between the two of them. “Right, that’s Ginjiro for you. He’s one of my friends from back since middle school, but he can be overbearing sometimes.” Ginjiro gives a dramatic gasp, acting offended, which Hayami pays no attention to. She then gestures at the siblings, eyes softening slightly as they fall on Tanjirou. “Ginjiro, these are Tanjirou and Nezuko, both dear friends of mine. Nezuko is Tanjirou’s younger brother, still in high school, so you might not have seen her around before. I hope that you all get along.”
That might be a little difficult, Tanjirou’s lips press together uneasily. Nezuko, who’s far more vocal about her opinions, pouts openly. “I don’t want to-”
“Wow, didn’t know that even the middle school kids knew about me,” Ginjiro laughs, and out of the corner of his eye, Tanjirou catches Nezuko making a face. “Only good things, I hope?”
“Hmph, just so that you know, Hayami-” Nezuko begins, but before she can say any more, Tanjirou tugs at her arm lightly, stopping her words in her tracks.
“We should be leaving first, we need to catch the last bus home before it’s too late.” Tanjirou interjects quickly, giving Hayami and Ginjiro an apologetic smile that seems just a hint forced. Nezuko looks like she wants to argue, but a stern look from her older brother has her falling quiet. “I hope you enjoy your dinner later.”
Ginjiro doesn’t seem to notice the tightness of Tanjirou’s mouth nor the reason behind Nezuko’s sulking, only grinning in response. “Oh yeah, we definitely will! The restaurant is a Michelin star that Hayami’s been wanting to try for ages, so I had to tip the receptionist extra to get a reservation. Still,” he winks at Hayami, who only sighs in response, “anything for my dearest Hayami, don’t you think?”
“You’re always like this,” Hayami complains, and Ginjiro laughs, oblivious to the siblings’ discomfort. It feels as though they’re intruding, and Tanjirou would hate to do that if Hayami really did have feelings for her, well, long time friend. Turning to Tanjirou and Nezuko, Hayami frowns a little. “Sorry, I intended on spending some time with the two of you after the performance, but the restaurant’s booking is really, really expensive…”
“It’s no problem.” The words taste wooden in Tanjirou’s mouth but he forces them out, along with the reassuring smile on his face. “I’ll see you next Monday at school, then.”
Ginjiro steps forward, his ever present grin on his face as he extends a hand to Tanjirou. “It was nice meeting you.” As Tanjirou grasps his hand to shake, he swears that Ginjiro squeezes just a little harder than what would be polite. His smile seems more reminiscent of a smirk now. Tanjirou has to bite back a slight wince. “Hope to see you around, buddy.”
He doesn’t sound like he means what he says.
“Let’s go, Nezuko.” With a last wave at Hayami, Tanjirou turns on his heel and walks away from the two of them, Nezuko hurrying to catch up with her brother’s longer strides. Behind them, Hayami bites her bottom lip, wondering what on earth has just happened in front of her earlier. For her own sanity, it would probably be a good idea to keep Ginjiro and Tanjirou very far apart...
“So, shall we get going, darling Hayami?” Ginjiro turns around to look at Hayami, who quickly banishes the pensive expression on her face. Yes, Ginjiro might be an ass and his flirting might be overbearing at times (all the time), but he’s still one of her good friends, and he’s done so much for her too. With a sigh, she can only shake her head. “Don’t bully Tanjirou, okay?”
Ginjiro shrugs airily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Reaching out, he tugs at her wrist. “Come on, let’s go! They have these artisanal doughnuts that I am absolutely dying for you to try… And of course, it’s my treat!”
Hayami allows Ginjiro to pull her by the hand to his car, but for the rest of the night she can’t help but think of the slightly bitter expression on Tanjirou’s face as he walked away earlier, and how she’s never seen him make such a face before. Slight worry builds up in her as she wonders if she’s done something to upset the ever placid Tanjirou, and Hayami makes up her mind to ask him about it come Monday.
But for now, even the doughnuts don’t taste as sweet.
>>>
Hayami does not get to ask Tanjirou anything come Monday, mainly because Ginjiro does not seem to have any intention of leaving her side and giving her and Tanjirou some alone time. The second her classes are over, Ginjiro appears at the door to walk her to the next, chattering to her excitedly about his new modelling gig and whatnot, and Hayami is far too polite to interrupt when he’s talking about something he’s clearly so passionate about.
It doesn’t help that Ginjiro is suddenly being a lot more…. flirty than usual, with an abundance of sweet and suggestive words paired with a lot of indecent hands that she’s had to slap away. She’s used to this sort of behaviour from Ginjiro, having known him for so long, but today seems more… excessive. Hayami doesn’t know what exactly is up with the boy.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can sometimes see a head of chestnut hair lingering behind pillars or around the bends at corridors, but the second she tries to approach it, Ginjiro either steers her attention away, or the person she’s increasingly desperate to talk to vanishes of his own volition. Tanjirou can’t possibly be avoiding her, can he? Worry gnaws at her insides, even as she sits down to have lunch with Ginjiro in the canteen.
What if he really doesn’t like Ginjiro?
Looking down at her food, Hayami chews on her bottom lip. Today morning has killed her appetite completely, to the point she almost doesn’t feel like eating anything. Still, she already skipped breakfast because she overslept, and it wouldn’t be healthy to miss two meals in a row…
Taking her hesitation for dislike, Ginjiro nudges her in the shoulder. “What’s the matter? Don’t like your bento today?” Hurriedly, Hayami shakes her head, moving to pick up her chopsticks.
“Oh, no, no, I was just spacing out,” she says, but Ginjiro only raises an eyebrow, the perceptive little bastard.
“Well, I have some strawberry mochi here for you, if you want something for your sweet tooth,” Ginjiro smiles, picking up the sweet and holding it up to her lips. Hayami stares at him with an exasperated face, but Ginjiro doesn’t let up. “Come on, Hayami dear. Say ahh-”
“Here, have some takoyaki, Hayami,” someone interrupts all of a sudden, and Hayami looks down to see a round octopus ball being put on her bento. Glancing up in surprise, Hayami is shocked to see the very person that she’s been trying to find all day - Tanjirou. If Tanjirou notices how shocked she is, he doesn’t mention it, only sliding into the seat next to her with his usual placid smile on his face. “I made that this morning myself. Try some and tell me what you think.”
“W-Where’s Inosuke and Zenitsu?” Why is she stuttering? “Don’t you usually have lunch with them?”
“Zenitsu had to go for remedials with Rengoku-sensei, and Inosuke wanted to try catching some of the fish in the school pond,” Tanjirou tells her calmly as he sets down his bento next to hers. Vaguely, Hayami wonders if she should inform Aoi about this so that the discipline council can stop the boar headed boy before the fish meet their ill fates, but then decides it’s better to pretend she never knew about it in the first place. Ignorance is bliss, after all. “Since I was left alone, I thought that I should join you for lunch, Hayami.” Tanjirou smiles politely at Ginjiro, who’s wearing an unusually stoic expression. “I didn’t expect you to be here, Ginjiro-san. I hope you don’t mind me intruding.”
“Not at all,” Ginjiro replies before Hayami can. Although he’s still wearing an easygoing smile, it’s one that he wears around prospective business clients he doesn’t like or when he meets with Hayami’s parents - not a genuine one in the least. “Please, feel free to sit with us. It wouldn’t be right of me to be possessive over a girl I’m not dating yet, would it?”
At Ginjiro’s goading tone, both boys’ eyes lock and Hayami feels electricity rise in the air, static prickling along her skin. Awkwardly, she picks up the takoyaki and puts it in her mouth. It does taste good, but she can’t really enjoy the savoury flavour when this is happening right in front of her.
“Right, just as it wouldn’t be to be possessive over friends, like you and Hayami. Don’t you agree?” Tanjirou says calmly, reaching for his sandwich. Ginjiro’s eye twitches at Tanjirou’s provocative words, but he keeps his cool. Hayami doesn’t understand what is going on.
“That’s true, although Hayami and I are more than just friends,” Ginjiro answers. Hayami frowns, opening her mouth to clarify Ginjiro’s words, but Tanjirou cuts across before she can answer.
“Oh? The two of you must be so close that she sees you as a brother, then. That’s really admirable.”
“You too. Hayami always tells me about how you take care of her like how you take care of your younger sister.”
At a total loss to what’s happening, Hayami slumps back in her seat, feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on. Watching the two of them take verbal snipes at each other is somehow even less pleasant than watching her parents squabble, so she only gives up and shakes her head, letting them duke it out on their own terms.
Men, she thinks with a sigh. Hopefully, this will wear off by the end of the week.
>>>
Much to Hayami’s exhaustion, it doesn’t end there.
As if that little meeting had only spurred on their competitive urge, Ginjiro and Tanjirou both have started acting very differently from what they’re usually like. On one hand, Ginjiro has turned unbearably flirty, constantly dropping suggestive one liners and his hands somehow always finding their way to her in Tanjirou’s presence. On the other hand, Tanjirou has become excessively helpful whenever Ginjiro is around, offering to help her carry books or papers between classes. While his altruistic personality is something that Hayami has always admired, this goes far beyond what she’s used to.
Ginjiro and Tanjirou only act like this in each other’s presences, though, so Hayami works out that there must be some sort of tension between them - whether they’ve fought before or they just don’t like each others’ faces, Hayami doesn’t know. All she knows is that she doesn’t like being caught in the middle of this.
Which is why she will try her best to avoid having both of them meet, instead choosing to only hang out with one of them at the time. Today, Tanjirou has offered to help her clean the student council room (after Aoi had accidentally let this slip in the corridors), hence here they are, Hayami finally getting to enjoy Tanjirou’s presence for the first time in the entire week.
It’s already the end of the week, and Hayami realises that this is the first time she’s managed to get Tanjirou alone… without Ginjiro butting in some way or another.
When he’s not trying to one up Ginjiro at whatever little game they’re playing, Tanjirou’s presence is as soothing as a gentle summer breeze on a hot day. Instead of being overbearingly nice, with those strange half smiles and hard eyes directed at Ginjiro, his mouth is tilted in a slight, content smile as he wipes at the desk with a cloth, pausing occasionally to sweep his chestnut hair back from his forehead.
“Hayami, you missed a spot here,” Tanjirou points at the corner of the window, and Hayami startles out of her thoughts, suddenly very aware that she was staring. Quickly, she hurries to bring her cloth to the area, but finds it too high for her to reach. Her height has failed her.
Moving to stand on her tiptoes, she tries again, the cloth just inches from the spot of dust on the window. Slightly embarrassed now, Hayami turns to Tanjirou and gives him the most pitiful expression she can muster. The boy’s laugh is gentle, and the sound makes Hayami’s heart flutter in her chest.
“It’s no problem,” Tanjirou tells her, moving towards the back of the room. “I’ll just grab a stepladder from the storage room that we can use.”
“Thanks, Tanjirou!” Hayami calls after him, smiling. Right, this is the pleasant, well mannered Tanjirou that she knows.
“Hey, Hayami-chan, cleaning the council room again?”
At the sound of Ginjiro’s voice, Hayami has to bite back a groan, forcing a suitable smile onto her face as she turns around to face her friend. As usual, one of his hands comes up to rest on her shoulder and she has to fight the urge to bat it away. What is he doing here?
“Yeah, I was rostered for cleanup today since I drew the short end of the stick at the last council meeting. And you,” she pokes his shoulder hard with a finger to emphasize her point, “are not supposed to be in the student council room without express permission from a teacher. Who did you get caught by the last time you were in here, Shinazugawa-sensei?”
Ginjiro’s unflappable grin falters a little at that, looking more like a wince now. “That man chased me all the way to the school gates, I swear my ass was black and blue by the time he let me go.” Hayami rolls her eyes. “ ‘sides, I saw you cleaning the windows from the ground floor and thought I’d give you a hand. Aren’t I perfect boyfriend material?”
Hayami scoffs, fighting the urge to smack him. When on earth will he cool it with the flirty lines?
“Perfect pervert material, more like. It’s your own fault for giving yourself such an awful reputation for peeping.” Shaking her head, Hayami busies herself wringing out the cloth in her hands before returning her attention to the window behind her. When she does, however, she spots Tanjirou standing there with a stepladder in his hands, lips drawn into a tight line as he stares down Ginjiro.
He does not look pleased to see the older boy there.
As if noticing him for the first time, Ginjiro raises a hand in greeting before Hayami can intervene, a sly smile growing on his lips. “Hey, Tanjirou! Coincidence seeing you here.”
“Coincidence, much?” Hayami mumbles under her breath, exasperated. Can they please just let off for five minutes and let her clean her windows in peace? Shaking her head, she turns around to face the window so that she doesn’t have to look at either of them. Why can’t she just reach that spot?
“It’s a coincidence seeing you here too, Ginjiro-san.” Tanjirou’s voice is clipped. “I was just helping Hayami clean the student council room today. What are you doing here?”
You’re not supposed to be here, Hayami can hear the underlying meaning to his words. And while she does agree that Ginjiro really needs to stop sneaking into the student council room as and when he likes, Hayami feels like Tanjirou is being a little too hostile towards her friend.
“Oh, I was just coming by to ask Hayami something, but I guess I could help with the cleaning too.” To Hayami’s surprise, the cloth in her hands is suddenly plucked out of her grasp. Turning around, she sees Ginjiro standing there with a grin. “Here, let me help you out. I’m perfect boyfriend material, remember?”
Hayami is about to argue that Tanjirou is right there with a stepladder, but Ginjiro is already leaning forward to wipe at the window without giving her any time to move out of the way. As a result, Hayami ends up caught between the glass panes of the window and Ginjiro’s front, far too close for her liking.
“I can’t believe that for all your height, you’re still shorter than me,” Ginjiro teases in a sing-song voice, leaning over to wipe at the window. Part of her swears that he’s doing this on purpose, the little bastard. Hayami scowls, pushing at his chest with both hands in annoyance.
“Wait, Ginjiro,” Hayami snaps, patience quickly running out. “Get out of the way and let me out before-”
There’s a sudden crash behind both of them, and Ginjiro and Hayami whirl around to see Tanjirou standing there with a tense expression on his face. The stepladder lies at his feet, but he makes no move to pick it up.
For a moment, Hayami wonders if Tanjirou might say something unkind - the look on his face is truly something to behold. Tanjirou’s usually good at controlling his emotions (how else would he be able to put up with both Inosuke and Zenitsu at the same time), but this time, he doesn’t seem to be faring as well at reigning in his emotions. Ginjiro, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to notice just how much he’s managed to rile Tanjirou up, instead slinging one arm over Hayami’s shoulder.
“Right, Hayami, I wanted to ask if you’d like to come over to my house later after this. I’ve got some problems with literature homework, I just don’t get Macbeth.” Grinning, he nudges Hayami in the side. “We can catch a movie after, too. Sounds nice, doesn’t it? It’s a weekend tomorrow, and I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind if you slept over at my house for the night.”
“I-” Hayami begins to say, but is interrupted by Tanjirou.
“Hayami usually comes over to my house on Friday nights, so I don’t think she’ll be able to go with you,” Tanjirou says tersely. Hayami frowns. She was about to say that herself, sure, but the fact that Tanjirou is speaking for her instead leaves her indignant. Hayami can speak for herself. “My mother’s already cooked for her, and besides,” he turns to her, “Nezuko misses you too. She says she hasn’t seen you for the entire week. Hanako, Shigeru, Rokuta, especially.”
Well, Hayami has been busy planning the next dance performance - it’s competition season for the performing arts, so she hasn’t had the time to go over to Tanjirou’s house as often as she likes. Still-
“Masako misses you too,” Ginjiro interjects, before Hayami can get a word in once more. “You know how my little sister is, she adores you. Besides, you’ve known my family longer, haven’t you? You should come with me, I’m sure you can visit Tanjirou’s family another day.”
At that statement, Hayami can feel her temper starting to rise. For Ginjiro to claim that his sister misses her is one thing, but to bring up their friendship to strong-arm Tanjirou’s aside is a huge no-no for her.
“I-”
“What exactly,” Tanjirou’s voice is completely level, and Hayami nearly has to bite back a shiver at his cold tone, “are you trying to imply here, Sato Ginjiro?”
She’s never heard Tanjirou like that before.
Ginjiro scoffs, shaking his head, that easygoing smile dropping to reveal a face full of seething jealousy. “Look here, Kamado, you’re the one who brought up the topic of family first. As if you weren’t trying to manipulate Hayami into visiting your house for your own gain-”
“Enough!”
At the sound of Hayami snapping, both boys immediately shut up. Hayami’s arms are folded over her chest, teeth gritted, and she pauses a moment to take a deep breath before she starts laying it all on the two of them.
“The two of you have been unbearable this entire week! I don’t care about whatever is going on between the two of you, but don’t you drag me into this! I already have my own issues with the dance performance coming up, and my parents,” she has to fight back tears at this point, the words simply spilling out of her as if a dam has broken somewhere inside of her, “are coming home sometime next week! I’m already massively stressed, and I don’t need the two of you adding on to it! So if the two of you aren’t done with your petty little argument, then I’m leaving first!”
With that, she storms out of the student council room, too angry and tired from her little rant to think too much about what she’s just said. Behind her, Ginjiro and Tanjirou stare after her back in shock at her little outburst, too stunned to respond.
Out of nowhere, the shrill sound of a ringtone fills the air between the two of them. Ginjiro fumbles to pick up his phone, pressing it to his ear.
“Masako? Yeah, yeah… I’ll buy some sushi for you on the way home. You’re hungry right now? Alright, I’m coming…” When he hangs up, Ginjiro gives Tanjirou a look out of the corner of his eye, the air between them so thick with awkwardness Tanjirou thinks he could choke on it.
“Okay, look, man, I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier.” Ginjiro says all of a sudden, words stilted as he fumbles with them. Tanjirou looks at him in surprise for a moment, before he sighs and relents.
“I get it. For what it’s worth, I’m… sorry for what’s been happening the past week.” Ginjiro gives an awkward laugh in response, before moving towards the door.
“Well, I gotta go now, so…” He purses his lips, glancing over at the Hayami’s bag on the table. “Could you take that to Hayami and tell her I’m sorry?”
“I got it.” Tanjirou watches as Ginjiro makes a face, as if he wants to say something, but he apparently decides against it and simply leaves without another word. Once left alone in the student council room, Tanjirou runs a hand through his hair and lets out a long, heavy exhale. What exactly came over him just now?
Regardless of whatever it was, it was still unacceptable behaviour for him, and Tanjirou knows that he needs to apologise. With a sigh, he picks up Hayami’s bag and moves towards the door, intent on clearing up this mess before he heads home for the day.
She’s nowhere to be seen, but Tanjirou has a feeling that he knows just where she is.
Walking out of the school gates, he makes his way towards a small neighbourhood playground nearby. And sure enough, beneath the large cedar tree that flourishes there, he sees Hayami sitting beneath it with her knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting on her knees. Her hair is undone, and slightly messy from where she must have run her fingers through it in frustration.
Tanjirou feels awful, but he continues to step towards her. If Hayami notices his presence, she doesn’t say anything, not even when Tanjirou moves to take a seat beside her, but neither does she tell him to leave her alone. He decides to see that as a positive.
“Your bag,” Tanjirou offers, setting down her bag next to her. Peeking up, Hayami gives the bag a look before she buries her face in her knees again.
“Thanks.” Short and curt. But not… angry. That sends relief flooding through Tanjirou, and gives him the courage to do what he came here to do.
“I’m sorry,” he offers meekly, but his words and intentions are genuine. For a moment, Hayami doesn’t respond, but eventually she seems to relax just a little before she speaks.
“Yeah, I’m sorry too… for blowing up like that.”
Tanjirou winces as he recalls Hayami’s anger on full display. “Well, we deserved it,” he tells her honestly, and Hayami turns her head so that she can pin him with a stare.
“I don’t blame you for being so tense, Ginjiro is unbearable at times and I completely understand that.” Tanjirou can’t help but nod along as Hayami speaks. “But I really didn’t know why you weren’t just… I don’t know, ignoring his antics or whatever! Surely you know better than to play into his hands?”
Tanjirou presses his lips into a line as he thinks about all the times during this past week that Ginjiro has put his hands on Hayami, or tried to monopolize her time, and the same, irksome feeling rises up in him once more. Ah, Tanjirou’s eyes widen in realisation. It was-
When he glances up, Hayami is still looking at him, waiting for an answer. However, Tanjirou can only give a slight smile, and shakes his head.
“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what came over me. It won’t happen again.”
“I hope it doesn’t,” Hayami huffs, but Tanjirou can tell that she’s calmed down now. Both of them sit in silence for a moment, until Tanjirou feels something tugging gently at his sleeve. Turning around, he looks at Hayami, who’s glancing away towards the playground where the children are running about, the sounds of their laughter filling the air. There’s slight colour dancing along her cheeks, but Tanjirou can’t tell whether it’s from the light of the setting sun or something else...
“Still,” she begins to say, looking slightly hesitant, and Tanjirou tilts his head to the side as he waits for her to continue. “Still… Can we go to your house for dinner? I mean, it’s like you said, I miss Rokuta and Hanako, and the rest of them as well…”
Tanjirou laughs. “Of course we can. You’re always welcome at my home, remember?” Rising to his feet, he extends one hand to Hayami. “Come on, Hayami.”
Hayami blinks at his hand before she reaches out to take it. Her fingers wrap around his calloused ones, and he hoists her to her feet. “We should hurry. Mother cooked takoyaki and karaage for dinner tonight, so if we don’t hurry, Nezuko and Takeo will eat them all.”
Hayami’s eyes widen at the sound of Kie’s home cooking waiting for her. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tightening her hold on Tanjirou’s hand, she pulls him down the road towards his house. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”
Tanjirou only smiles, and follows Hayami with slower, steadier steps as she practically skips down the road. Although this storm has blown over without much incident, Tanjirou is more than aware that these affections for Hayami will only continue to grow with the passing of time.
He really should tell Hayami about these feelings that he has for her soon.
#demon slayer#demon slayer fanfic#demon slayer fanfiction#tanjirou#kamado tanjirou#kamado tanjirō#kny fanfic#kny#kny tanjiro#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic
20 notes
·
View notes