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eijishimas · 4 years ago

Text

midnight snack.

18+ nsfw content, minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (use protection irl pls!), quirk use (electro stimulation), a hint of overstim, & a sprinkle of degradation. f!reader.

notes: all i could think about while writing this was “and they were roommates! ohmygod they were roommates.” also thank u bria ( @rekiri ) & sun ( @kiridarling ) for keeping me sane while writing this, ily both <3

wc: 3.0k

You rarely got hungry in the middle of the night. You usually went to bed full of food cooked by yourself or ordered takeout by your roommate, Denki. Tonight was different, however. You had been working on a project, one that was taking up far too much of your time due to your incompetent group members causing you to pick up the slack. You had been stressed beyond belief lately because of them. Maybe a small stretch would help clear your mind, you reasoned to yourself internally. While you were at it, a midnight snack wouldn’t be too bad. It would help ease your nerves, even. You stood from your desk, stretching your arms above your head and cracking the joints of your shoulders. Now exiting your room, you threw a glance across the hallway to see the light under your roommate’s door was still on. Of course he was staying up again, when did he not? Probably off playing video games with the guys again.

You yawned, bare feet pattering against the hardwood of your apartment floor on your way to the kitchen. You shivered, wearing only a cropped sweater you had thrifted and a pair of your comfiest shorts. So what if they were a little short on you, they did the job of keeping you comfy while you slept. No one besides Denki saw you in them, mostly because you wore them to bed. Opening the fridge door, you cringed at the harsh lighting hitting you square in the face. You bent over, eyes scanning the bottom shelf for something to pique your interest. Since you figured Denki was in his room, you didn’t bother to bend your knees while you were searching for your snack.

“Uh- I uh, whatcha lookin’ for?” Denki’s voice cracked slightly. What were the odds? Your head whipped up so fast from the fridge, you nearly knocked into the door of it. Your face began to overheat as you saw your roommate standing there in his pyjamas, fighting off his own blush as he looked at you. Had he seen how your shorts rode up your ass, giving the perfect view of the lace black panties you had been wearing that night? Maybe. The answer was most definitely a yes, but he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He really didn’t want to die by your hands.

“I was, well I was grabbing some water,” you fumbled for your words as Denki approached you, moving around the bar counter of your apartment to peer into the fridge himself from behind you. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead indicating that he had just hopped out of the shower. No kidding, he had used your fruit passion shampoo along with lemon scented body wash again. You felt his hot breath on the back of your neck from how close he was to you, your tongue wetting your lips as you tried to ease your building nerves. You were never so nervous around him, he was your roommate and your best friend. The two of you had always been comfortable around each other.

You stood perfectly still, razor focused on the fruit cup on the top shelf to distract your mind that was buzzing with electricity. He smelled so good. He felt awfully warm. And he was incredibly close to you, so much so that you could hear his own inner monologue if you listened hard enough. You were so caught up in your thoughts that your mind barely registered that his hands were sitting comfortably on your waist. “Hey,” Denki spoke up, “Did you wear that for me?”

Processing his words, there was a tiny heat that began to burn low in your stomach. “I’m sorry?” you squeaked out.

“The black lacy ones. The ones that make me want to eat you out on the counter until you’re screaming. Did you wear those for me?” his voice was low, whispering deliciously into your ear. Sinful thoughts were clouding your mind, your previous intentions of getting a snack now lost to the idea of possibly choking on something else entirely tonight. “Denki—” His hands slipped beneath your shirt, stopping just below your breasts. You were starting to feel something hard poking at the cheek of your ass. Your breath hitched, thighs clenching together in an attempt to tame the growing heat between them. The two of you had been dancing around the notion of having feelings for each other for a long time.

You tried to look the other way every time he would stare at you for just a small bit longer than he should. He pretended to not notice the way you sat so very close to him, despite the entire couch being free. The way your fingertips brushed his thighs when you leaned over him to grab the remote. The way his touch lingered on your hip when he went to pass behind you while you cooked dinner together, his palms warm and jittery. Everything clicked together so perfectly for the two of you, it was beginning to become undeniable and almost comical at this point.

Tonight only made you more desperate for some type of release, since all of the previous tension between the two of you had crescendoed into Denki moulding his lips to your neck and sucking deep purple marks in a lovely pattern against your hot skin. Your legs felt weak, a strained moan escaping you. Between the cool air of the open fridge and his hands exploring your torso, it felt like heaven. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples eagerly, his name falling off your tongue as if second nature. You wanted him bad. And he wanted nothing more than to strip you of your clothes and have you right there in the kitchen.

Your legs quivered as he touched you, allowing yourself to lean back against him and succumb to his affection. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long, baby,” the confidence radiating off the blond was dripping right into his tone. It made more of that liquid heat manifest in your lower half. You were quite certain that those lacy black panties Denki had been talking about now had a wet patch from all of his ministrations. His hands kept massaging at your breasts, small whimpers leaving your lips as you whispered out how you needed more from him. You panted, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to your skin. Your hips seemed to move on their own as you wiggled your ass right up against his prominent hard on. “Fuck,” he swore, fingers dipping into your shorts and past the waistline of your underwear to feel your slick. You were soaking from his touches, thighs shaking and fingers finding purchase in blond locks as his finger pad grazed your aching clit. “More,” you whined with need, “I wanna.. I wanna touch you, please.”

Denki’s mind felt like it was melting. Was this a dream? He never wanted to wake up if that was the case. He inserted a finger into your core, heart fluttering upon hearing you moan out for him again. Your walls hugged his single digit, his dick twitching at the sensation. You were feeling unbearably sensitive for some reason that night, the way his thumb drew circles around your clit paired with his finger reaching within you made your head light. “You’re so greedy, look at you fucking yourself on my fingers. Moaning like that for me. From how much you walk around like a little slut, you had this coming,” Denki nibbled at the lobe of your ear before adding a second digit, curling his fingers and further sending you into your pleasure. “Denki,” you called out again, head tossed against his shoulder, ass rubbing right against his dick in ways that made his head spin. “You’re so wet, do you hear that? Holy fuck, I can’t wait to taste you,” Denki’s words made the coil inside the pit of your stomach snap, your first orgasm of the night finally washing over you as you clenched around his fingers. It took all of Denki’s willpower not to cum in his boxers right then and there. Falling against him for support, your hips lazily rolled against his digits to ride out your high.

“Up on the counter babe, we’re not done yet. I’m still feeling a bit hungry,” he murmured into your ear. The two of you backed away from the fridge, leaving the door open to allow some light in the darkened kitchen. You turned to face him, seeing a bit of a loopy smile on his face despite his lust blown pupils. You wasted no time in connecting your lips, tongue sliding into his mouth with ease. Your body pressed his against the cool granite of the counter, his hands drifting lower down your back to meet the flesh of your ass. He tapped your ass a couple times, his fingers pinching at the fabric of your thin shorts. “You won’t be needing these,” he chuckled deeply against your lips. His drop in octave made you shiver. Your own hands mapped out his body, feeling across his abs that he prided himself on as a pro-hero while your other went right for his cock.

Your excited fingers pulled down his gray sweatpants along with his boxers, his cock springing free from its confines. There was a lovely amount of precum beading atop his reddening head, your thumb swirling the natural lube around his tip. The action elicited a groan from the blond, grabbing a bit harder at your ass. You were gentle, teasing even, your eyes glazed over in lust as your hand pumped his dick at a slow tempo. Denki’s hips began to fuck into your hand, his chest heaving as he took this time to shed himself of his t-shirt. He felt entranced by how your fingers looked so delicate fisting his cock, breath hitching in his throat as your wrist rolled with each stroke of his dick. “Do you know how— fuck — how long I’ve waited for this?” Denki’s words are gentle, his neck craning back down to nip at your exposed skin.

“Too long?”

“Way too long.”

You giggled and he groaned, a low rumble against your soft skin that makes you shiver yet again. You smirked with amusement as you felt him pulse in your hand, yet Denki pulled away from your touch just as you were about to tip him over the line to his own orgasm. “You, you first,” he told you, golden eyes trained on yours, “I like seeing you come undone for me.”

A whimper escaped you, his grin hungry with want for you and only you. “Let’s see how good you taste,” he pressed a final kiss to your lips as he eagerly dropped to his knees. With a shy look in your eyes, you allowed your legs to spread, giving Denki a full view of your pretty pussy. He was practically salivating, eyes taking in your wet sex with a strange fire lit behind them. He was eating good tonight. With your fingers threading in his hair and tugging lightly, he took it as his signal to go. You sucked in a gasp of surprise as something cool touched your already slick entrance. Oh, you had forgotten that Denki had a fucking tongue piercing.

Instinctively, your thighs started to close around Denki’s head. He held them open with ease, the metal ball of his piercing following the tip of his tongue as he happily traced your entrance. “Denki,” you huffed, growing frustrated at his languid pace. For a man who seemed rather eager, he was going very slowly. Denki hummed in response, lips now attached to your clit and you felt your body jolt at the feeling. Fuck. Maybe you should have bit your tongue instead. Channeling electricity through his quirk, you felt a shock emitted from the tiny piece of metal in his mouth to your aching clit. “Denki!” you moaned, eyelids fluttering as you struggled to keep your gaze on him. Your hands kept pulling at his semi-damp hair, rutting your hips as best as you could into his face as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You felt ten times hotter than you did when you first entered the kitchen, your hands expelling your own sleep shirt to the floor as Denki moaned at the sight of your exposed tits. This gave him the opportunity to push his tongue into your pussy, your toes curling at the sensation of his tongue entering your heat. He had his fun, darting his tongue in and out of you as he kept moaning to keep up the tiny vibrations. Moving his bangs away from his eyes, you could only watch as he ate you out with his skilled muscle.

His tongue reached deeper inside of you, his hands holding your thighs apart firmly as they were threatening to clamp around his head with more force. You hadn’t anticipated that Denki would be this fucking good with his mouth. Your inner walls squeezed around him, your moans picking up in volume. Your nipples were peaked, your back arched and your head thrown back as all you could do was continuously grind your hips against his face. This only edged the blond further, his nose stimulating your swollen clit as his tongue delved as far as it could into your dripping cunt. You nearly screamed his name as you were finally tipped over the edge, your chest heaving as Denki suckled at your sensitive lower lips. He drank your essence happily, your body prickling with heat as he drew back to watch in awe at how your pussy fluttered invitingly around nothing. He was drunk on the feeling of you cumming on his mouth. You two were definitely doing that again.

As you steadily regulated your breathing, Denki slowly got up from his position on the floor. Wiping away a bit of your cum from the corner of his mouth, he threw you another grin. You swallowed dryly, “Need you.”

“What was that, baby?”

“Need you, Den. I need you in.. Please.” Your eyes were begging him to give you more. You had seen how much his cock had been leaking onto the kitchen floor, practically throbbing between his legs from not having given release. With a cheeky sort of smile, Denki gave you a kiss to your cheek before settling his lips to the shell of your ear. “Whatever you say, babe.”

In an instant, you were swept off the counter, your body being caged between the closed freezer door and Denki holding you up from beneath your thighs. His cock fell heavy against your stomach, twitching in its desperation for attention. The light emitting from the open door of the fridge illuminated the right half of the electric blond’s face, his expression lustful and giddy in the harsh LED lighting. It made your heart buzz with anticipation, your body tensing as he eased the head of his cock past your folds. Your hands scrambled for his shoulders, fingernails leaving red crescents along his creamy skin. Denki’s eyes were on you, his breathing irregular as you wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting back in with confidence. His lips swallowed your moans, the wet, lewd sounds of your fucking adding more tinder to the heat now coiling in the pit of your stomach for the third time tonight. “Please,” you begged, practically trembling from overstimulation as Denki rocked you into the cool aluminum of the freezer door.

“Please what, baby?” the playfulness in his tone didn’t match the serious manner in which he kept pistoning into you, chasing his own release as your slick from previous orgasms now coated his cock and ran down his thighs. Each time he went in, he angled himself right up to meet that special spot inside you to make you see tiny specks of white dot your vision. “I- I, ah! Denki!” Fingers now grasping at his hair again, you yanked harshly as you came around his pulsing cock for the third and final time, squeezing him snugly as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. There was a tingly sensation running through your legs starting from your thighs, numbing and electric as Denki kept up his quick pace to chase his own release, groaning dirty praises into your ear that made you keen. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to go deeper and finish inside of you. His hips met yours for one last time, stuttering as he pumped his sticky cum into your abused hole. You two stayed there for a moment, you letting out quiet giggles as Denki took his time in getting the air back into his lungs. He let you down steadily from the position you had been in, making sure to hold you up since the feeling was still a bit lost in your legs.

“Wow that was,” Denki paused, struggling to find the right word for the situation you two had caught yourselves in. “Satisfying,” you finished for him, to which he blushed deeply. The smile he flashed you was earnest and relieved, if he was being quite honest. “Ah, nice! Let’s get you something to eat, maybe a cheese string. But definitely water!”

“I’m actually feeling pretty full right now in terms of cheese. Thanks for that, Den.”

“Wait really?” Denki questioned as he swept his boxers along with his shirt off the kitchen floor, his concern showing through his furrowed brow, “Not even for a cheese string?”

A deadpan look crossed your face, sighing as you gave in to your dumbass of a roommate. “One cheese string.”

“Bet!”

Needless to say, post sex activities consisted of a hot shower, the second Shrek movie, and two cheese strings (per Denki’s request). Not a bad way to relieve your stress, you concluded to yourself happily as you snuggled closer to your roommate, fingers intertwined beneath the blanket as you allowed yourself to slip into a comfortable slumber against Denki’s shoulder.

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

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littlemissnoname13 · 3 years ago

Note

hi could you please make a part two to feeling colors, i LOVED your writing in it. no rush :))

Hiii nonnie! 💕 I did end up writing a second part for the fic after all. I hope you like it as much as the first. X

Feeling Colours - Part Two

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word count: 2500 give or take

Summary: Draco’s feelings for the reader start to grow

Warnings: fluff, excessive drinking, mentions of throwing up, kissing, nothing explicit, Draco being a softie (lmk if this needs more warnings)

Masterlist | Part One

Your eyes fluttered open to find Draco Malfoy sitting on a chair next to you, breathing quietly like sleep was finally hitting him. Ruffled blond strands of hair fell over his weary eyes and he’d used his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.

Your first instinct was to silently lift up your covers and check if your clothes were still intact and thank Merlin they were.

“Have a little faith Y/n.” Draco grumbled, startling you in the process as he struggled to lift himself into a more comfortable position. “I would never take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Fragments of the previous night came back to you when you heard him say that.

The party, the burn of the booze, the dust-filled broom closet, the throwing up, the taste of soup and the strong and sturdy arms of the boy now looking at you with a sheepish grin on his face.

You eased at the sight of his smile. There came a certain type of comfort after someone had seen you throwing your guts up.

“Thank you for last night Draco.”

“Like I said before Miss raging alcoholic, Don’t make a habit of it.” He let out a small yawn and started to smooth out his hair but much to his dismay, the strands refused to cooperate.

You couldn't help but laugh at the displeased look on his face. “Here, let me—”

“NO. I absolutely refuse to let you touch my hair.” He protested, grabbing both your wrists before your fingers could make contact with his precious hair.

“Come on Malfoy.” You pleaded, now fully out of bed and trying to break free from his hands. “I swear I can fix it for you.”

“Nope.” He said firmly as he tried his hardest to maintain a straight face. “Stop it—No please not the sides—no..”

“Please, just a bit more...ah okay….there we go.”

“Haven’t you done enough Hufflepuff?!”

“Oh. that rhymed.” You laughed, still touching his hair when the two of you accidently tumbled onto the chair he was originally sleeping on.

Draco was agile in cushioning your fall with one of his hands balancing himself on the armrest and one hand wrapped around your waist.

It was only the second time he’d saved you from falling and you were already getting used to it.

Something inside of you was immediately hoping that Draco would be there to break your fall for a third time too.

It felt good with him.

It felt safe with him.

~~~

Alone at the school courtyard in the afternoon of the next day, Draco sat down in a far corner to rearrange his cluttered thoughts about you into tidy little compartments in his brain.

It should have been easy for him. He was a natural occlumens after all.

But for some bizarre reason, he couldn't find a way to erase your name, the sound of your voice and your scent that was slowly dominating all four lobes of his brain and all four chambers of his heart.

Even with the sun still in the sky, the occasional gust of wind made his hands turn cold so he instinctively shoved his hands into his blazer pocket to warm up.

It was only then that he realised that he’d completely forgotten to give your locket back to you.

~~~

A few days had now passed and Draco had gotten several opportunities to give your necklace back to you.

First it was at the great hall.

He watched you intently from the Slytherin table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk to you while you nibbled on a cupcake.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he watched you lick the powdery pink frosting off your Peony lips.

He wasn’t all that fond of those cupcakes you were eating but he’d have done anything for a taste of the frosting from your lips.

Before he could even manage to walk over to you, you stood up and walked away with your friends.

When you were close to the exit however, you paused and turned towards the Slytherin table to give him a tiny smile.

He quickly reached into his pocket to look at the locket, it was the exact pink shade of the frosting.

~~~

The second time he tried to return it was at Potions class.

Theo had so graciously agreed to switch partners with Draco and Snape did not seem to mind as long as the potions were brewed right.

“Crush the petals as best you can before dropping them into the cauldron.” Snape instructed and you quickly grabbed a fistfull of rose petals.

Draco watched in awe as you crushed rose petals in your hands, releasing the floral aroma into the atmosphere. The scent caught onto clothes and a flush crept onto his face.

“Well, are you going to help me, Malfoy?”

Draco silently copied your motion and stirred the cauldron till the potion was simmering and ready.

Returning your locket in the middle of Severus’s class did not seem like a smart idea so he decided to come up with a better one.

“We are having another party in the dungeons on Friday. You should come and bring Abott if you’d like.” Draco shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing ever.

“Will there be elf made wine?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he let out a rather loud scoff earning the attention of the sulky potion’s master.

“Malfoy, Y/l/n.” Snape called out, looking as unimpressed as ever. “Detention.Saturday.”

“Incorrigible.” Draco muttered and you nudged him in the rib with your elbow.

“Two Saturdays.” Snape said, before dismissing the entire class.

On his way out, Draco discreetly sneaked a peak of the necklace in his pocket because he already knew what colour it was going to be.

It was the exact same pink of the rose petals you were crushing.

~~~

Two days had gone by since potions class and Draco was no longer fazed when the necklace emulated the same shades of pink from the bubblegum you were blowing or the fuschia ribbon in your hair.

Draco also didn’t think it was necessary to make another attempt to return your necklace until Friday.

He already had a lot of things preoccupying his mind like actually planning the party.

There had been no Slytherin Party planned for Friday before Draco invited you and now, He was getting his friends to help him arrange one.

Crabbe and Goyle were tasked with getting more liquor, Blaise and Theo were responsible for music and food while Draco was responsible with the overall logistics like silencing charms and getting the word of the party out.

“All this for a girl.” Blaise mocked. Theo took this moment to whisper something to Crabbe who then whispered something to Goyle.

“Care to say it out loud, Nott?” Draco seethed as he watched his friends clutch their stomachs and laugh out loud.

“Theo called you a simp.” A teary eyed Goyle spluttered.

“A what now?”

~~~

Friday’s party topped the previous one.

More people, A wider selection of liquor, wine varietals, good food and music blasting so loud that the floors were vibrating.

As per usual, Hannah had already disappeared into some dark little corner with her paramour leaving you all alone with a group of Slytherin girls.

“I love your dress!” Exclaimed a tipsy looking Daphne Greengrass who herself was wearing a gorgeous turquoise number.

“Thank you.” You replied, giving her your most polite and friendly smile.

“Come now, let's go and dance already.” Pansy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at the interaction. Although it wasn’t super obvious, you sensed that Pansy wasn’t too pleased to have you there.

Daphne intertwined her hands to yours and pulled you into the dancefloor with herself, Pansy Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode.

Daphne’s surprisingly amiable nature took you by surprise but you decided to go with it. It was a party after all.

When she placed her hands on your shoulders, you mirrored. When she swayed her hips, so did you.

“He can't stop staring at you now, can he?” Daphne shouted into your ear over the music as you both continued to dance together.

“I’m sorry who?” You shouted back.

“Malfoy.” Daphne giggled. “ He’s been watching you all night actually. Why do you think he hosted this party in the first place?”

You stole a quick glance at Draco when no one was looking. He was sipping on a glass of whisky and watching you from a distance.

He had ditched his all black attire for a white button down shirt. The top two buttons were undone and his hair had a sort of laid back look to it

“See?” Daphne shouted again. “Hasn’t even taken his eyes off you once. It's driving Pansy nuts.”

Just to confirm if Daphne was in fact telling the truth, you tilted your head to the side to get a bitter view of him and the minute you did, your eyes met with his.

Heat spread all across your cheeks and he raised his glass to you as an acknowledgement before quickly turning away.

After that, it was just an intense and tactical little gambit of who caught who staring.

He covertly watched you sway your hips and you secretly noticed the way he tapped his fingertips on the glass he was holding.

Both of you refused to relent to whatever game this was up until the point where he grabbed a bottle of fire whisky and started to walk away.

You didn't even need to think twice about where he was headed.

“Go on.” Daphne nudged encouragingly.

~~~

Draco pulled the closet door open and stepped inside with a smile playing at his lips.

The last time he was there, he was introduced to you, your scent, your smile, your eyes.

Before that night in the closet, he took colours at their face value. They were nothing more than visual representations of light—what amount, what hue, what saturation.

It was strange how things had changed for him.

Not only did you make him see colours in a whole new light, you made him feel them, you made him hear them.

As Draco settled down with his drink, he saw the door creak open.

It was still dark but he could already tell that it was you by the scent of your perfume. Oh, he could never ever forget that aroma even if he tried.

Lumos.

Draco held his wand in front of him and allowed himself to turn to his side to get a better view of you.

Never had he ever seen someone glow the way you did under the lumos charm. The radiance in your eyes, the pearlescence of your skin and the curvature of your lips made him lightheaded.

“I feel like this closet is going to be a recurring thing for us huh?” You beamed at him and he found himself swooning.

Salazar Slytherin. Nott was right. He was a simp.

“I guess so.” Draco quickly answered, Blaming this dizziness on the lack of ventilation while taking a big sip of his drink.

“I don’t mind.” You said and twisted open the bottle of wine you’d brought with you.

“Don’t tell me you brought another bottle of that god awful wine in here.”

“It’s actually not that bad and it gets you drunk way quicker.” You shrugged.

“Why do I feel like I might have to walk you to your dorm again?”

He watched you take a long slow sip of wine and couldn’t help himself from noting that your lips were slowly getting stained red with the fruity nectar.

“Might?” You shook your head. “Sorry to break it to you, but this wine is going to catch up with me soon.”

Draco jokingly palmed his face, earning a laugh from you. It seemed like the perfect time to hand you your lost possession back.

“Atleast, I’ll know when you are going to be sick though.” Draco said as he fished for the locket in his pocket.

“How come?”

“Because of this.” He explained, holding the necklace out. “I’m sorry I should have given it back sooner.”

“That’s okay.” You murmured softly and pushed your hair away from your neck and he instantly took this as a cue to drape the necklace back to where it belonged.

“Ah…there you go.” He whispered into your ear before shifting back to look at the gem.

Draco expected it to be pink but to his astonishment, the gem had already turned a vibrant red.

A new colour.

He could see red in the apples of your cheeks.

He could feel red pumping through his veins and hear red in the way his heart was rapidly beating.

“It’s red.” You commented and he slowly nodded.

Even though he knew what red was for him, he needed to hear your interpretation before making his next move.

“What does red mean to you y/n?”

“To me, well…..red represents um..passion, something fiery, something that burns bright, leaves you breathless.” You whispered looking as if you were feeling almost as breathless as him.

Draco swallowed hard when he noticed just how close your face was to his.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?”

He noticed that your breathing was progressively getting shorter. You looked startled at his sudden question but held his gaze nonetheless.

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself, Draco.”

He couldn’t help but let out a hoarse chuckle before pressing his forehead to yours. “Is that an invitation hm?”

You didn’t say a word but the deepening red color of your necklace gave everything away.

Any remaining doubt in his mind went away when he felt you caress his cheeks with your cold hands.

He gently let his fingers slip into your hair as he closed the distance between your lips.

The kiss was reminiscent of the rush of first love. The innocence, the giggles.

The kiss paid homage that perfumed night in the broom closet that had started it all.

The kiss was bleeding, seeping, trickling In various shades of red and he was drinking every drop.

Draco Malfoy could finally tell what the colour red tasted like.

It tasted like your wine stained lips.

He backed away and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you gave him a shy smile in return.

~~~

The two of you spent the remainder of the party inside the closet.

Drinking, talking, laughing and more kissing.

So much kissing.

“Alright y/n, let’s get you to your room now shall we?” Draco sighed when he noticed that you were getting more and more inebriated by the minute. “Come on.”

You struggled to step out of the closet and almost tripped on your own two drunken feet.

Almost.

“As if I’m going to let you fall face first.” He mumbled to himself before lifting you up in his arms.

You let out a small laugh before looking up at him.

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you said to not make a habit of this but unfortunately for you, I already have.”

FIN.

~~~

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pies-writes-and-more · 4 years ago

Text

allergic to you

Word Count: 3, 713

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x High School Age!Fem!Reader

Warnings: some swear words I guess, but as per usual, it’s just fluff from me.

A/N: Guess who’s finally joined another fandom lol hello Haikyuu fandom! Pls be kind, it’s my first time writing for this fandom but I am in love with Karasuno boys, it’s problematic. Anyways, please let me know if you liked it! Sorry if I didn’t quite capture him the way other writers do haha. Also, Y/N = Your (Last) Name, just cause typing Y/L/N is exhausting lol my b

(Not my gif, credits to the original creator!)

Yamaguchi was trying his very hardest not to laugh, his hands clasped together in front of his lips to stifle his giggles as the tall blond boy he had known for years just looked at him desperately.

“It’s not funny,” Tsukishima’s lips formed into a frown (almost a pout), looking away from his friend nervously. His fingers played with some chopsticks, poking at his uneaten lunch.

Yamaguchi had never see Tsukishima Kei nervous. Volleyball games? Totally calm. Math class? Easy. Exam season? Piece of cake.

But put Tsukishima near a girl? No, scratch that. Not just any girl. Put Tsukishima near Y/N? It was all over for him. Suddenly, this 190cm tall boy wanted to shrink small enough to run away and not be noticed.

“It’s a little funny, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi insisted, finally letting out just a tiny chuckle that he just couldn’t hold back. “I think you’re overreacting. Just a bit.”

Tsukishima’s eyes turned back to the other boy, staring at him as if analyzing him, “How could I be overreacting? I’m telling you, I’m allergic!”

Yamaguchi was really trying his best to be supportive, knowing that talking about things was already hard for Tsukishima, especially when involving a particularly cute girl. “You think... you’re allergic... to Y/N,” Yamaguchi retorted slowly, repeating how Tsukishima started this convo with.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Tsukishima scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Obviously it’s some product she uses or something,” his nose scrunched up slightly as he tried to think of what it could possibly be. “Like that hand lotion she uses. The one that smells like vanilla and brown sugar,” Tsukishima proclaimed, nodding to himself like he had solved the mystery.

The green haired boy was still trying his best to be supportive. He nodded slowly, giving a forced smile to his best friend as he slowly spiralled into insanity. He had never seen Tsukishima this desperate for answers before. “Hasn’t she let you use some of that hand lotion?” He wondered aloud, remembering very specifically how red Tsukishima’s ears got when she rubbed a bit into a rash he had gotten on his hand.

“Gotta take good care of your hands if you play volleyball, Tsukishima-san!” Y/N had beamed, her fingers massaging the cream in.

Tsukishima had practically fainted that day, though he’d never admit it.

The blond’s frown tightened, holding his hand to his chin in thought, “Right. So not the hand lotion then.”

“Maybe she got a new perfume?” Yamaguchi offered, nibbling on some of his lunch while Tsukishima thought it out.

“No, she’s still using the same one,” He mumbled, and Yamaguchi smirked to himself, knowing that Tsukishima would’ve never admitted before that he knew little details like this about her.

“Well. what kinds of symptoms do you have? Maybe that’ll narrow it down,” Yamaguchi suggested, leaning his head back on the wall behind them. It wasn’t unusual for Tsukishima to want to eat some place quiet, but today had been the first day that he had practically dragged Yamaguchi to this small secluded spot behind the school. The two of them sat against a wall to eat, though Tsukishima’s lunch had been completely forgotten.

“I just-” Tsukishima hesitated, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as he tried to word how his body felt every time she was around. “I always feel so lightheaded. And my heartbeat’s always irregular too. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe properly.” His hand slid into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone and tilting the screen towards Yamaguchi to show him a medical diagnostic page on the web. “Some people say these are symptoms of allergies. Or an anxiety attack. But I’m leaning more towards allergies.”

Yamaguchi squinted at the text, “You... Googled it?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips, glancing up at Tsukishima, amused.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” Tsukishima scoffed, scrolling through the page. “I don’t know what else it could be. It’s not with anyone else. It can’t be the classroom either, cause when she’s not around, I don’t feel anything.”

“Hm. So what’re you going to do about it?” Yamaguchi asked, going along with this ‘allergic’ idea as much as he could. He knew Tsukishima was very rational and even if he suggested what he figured was happening, Tsukishima would never listen.

“D-Do?” Tsukishima blinked. He hadn’t thought about what the next step was.

“Well I assume you don’t want to keep feeling that like right? You could always ask the teacher to move you, I suppose. Then ask her not to attend any of our games. Avoiding her for the rest of your life seems like the best choice doesn’t it?” Yamaguchi asked innocently, closing up his lunch box and taking a sip from his juice.

Tsukishima stayed quiet, eyebrows still furrowed and the frown on his face tightening. He knew that made sense - one of the girls in their class was allergic to nuts and she always had to be careful what she ate, and he had even heard of some people not eating or drinking milk products because of allergies. The logical part of his brain agreed with Yamaguchi, perhaps staying away from Y/N was the only answer.

“Then... maybe it’s not an allergy,” Tsukishima mumbled quietly. He hated going back on his word but he couldn’t deny that he loathed the idea of not seeing Y/N’s smile ever again. Or seeing her sit with someone else. “Maybe it’s just something I have to get used to.”

“You know, Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi started again, looking off to the scenery that was in front of them. His voice was light and airy as he tried to coax his friend to the idea, “What you’re going through sounds a lot like-”

Tsukishima could hear it in his voice, he knew the next word forming from Yamaguchi’s lips before it even entered the air. He slammed his lunch box closed and stood up abruptly, turning away from the other boy’s eyes. “Lunch is over,” he grumbled, as if that was the reason he stood up so dramatically.

Yamaguchi smirked and packed up his things, shaking his head slowly when Tsukishima wasn’t looking. He wasn’t at all surprised that Tsukishima was having a hard time accepting his feelings.

The word hung in the very serious boy’s mind for the rest of the day. He tried not to focus so much on Y/N as he sat next to her for the rest of their classes, tried to not inhale too much or look in her general direction, in fear that his “allergy” would act up again.

He was almost positive it wasn’t... that. He would know for sure if it was, wouldn’t he? His nose scrunched slightly as he thought about the music he had listened to before, ones that had just a good melody and beat and he definitely didn’t listen to because of the lyrics since they were about... that thing.

Didn’t some people talk about their heart feeling like it was going to fall out of their chest? That they found it hard to breathe? That it was like all life stopped when they saw that person? And that despite all this, they never wanted to be without them?

Tsukishima had to get to the bottom of this. He was either experiencing some sort of allergic reaction to her or he was experiencing feelings. He thought about ignoring them, pretending like they didn’t exist so that maybe everything would go back to normal one day. But how long would that take? Wouldn’t it just be easier to rip off the bandaid and find out now?

At the end of class, Tsukishima zoomed his way out of class, not waiting for Yamaguchi like usual.

“Is he alright, Yamaguchi-san?” Y/N asked, surprised that the two best friends weren’t walking out together like they had every other day. Some days, they would even walk out with Y/N on their way to practice. But apparently, not today.

“He’s got a lot on his mind,” Yamaguchi explained, waving it away with a smile. Perhaps today he would be walking home by himself. And that was fine by him.

Y/N packed up her things and waved goodbye to her other classmates, heading out the door and slipping in her headphones. Her mind drifted to all the things she had to do when she got home, whether or not there were leftovers to heat up today or if she should cook something up.

“You take so long,” a drawl voice interrupted the very beginning of her first song. She blinked in surprise, looking to her right where Tsukishima was leaning against a tree.

Y/N pulled out one earbud, tilting her head as she watched him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him do this casual, I-don’t-care-about-anything lean, with his headphones around his neck and his hands shoved in his pockets. But there was something different about him this time. Why was he avoiding her eyes? Why was he not giving her an annoyingly carefree smile? Why were his ears turning pink?

“Were you... waiting for me, Tsukishima-san?” Y/N asked slowly. He didn’t move for a moment, as if still calculating something in that big brain of his. He pushed off of the tree after sighing, walking over to her slowly.

“Obviously,” was all he said, glaring down at her as if she should’ve known this.

“You rushed out of class so quick, I thought you were already going home,” Y/N responded, still a bit confused. “Don’t you and Yamaguchi normally walk home together?”

Why did she have to question so much? Why couldn’t she just realize what he was trying to do? Tsukishima huffed and grabbed her hand, dropping a nice cool juice box in it. His eyes darted away from her next inquisitive look, but glanced back almost immediately because he wanted to see her eyes widen just a little at her favourite juice box.

“W-What is this?” Y/N asked, holding it in her hands. Part of her wanted to examine it to make sure he hadn’t somehow tricked her into holding something that wasn’t actually juice. She looked up at him suspiciously - Tsukishima knew her favourite juice?

“You didn’t have one with you today. I figured you forgot your wallet again today,” Tsukishima mumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket again.

“O-Oh. I did, thank you. Um,” Y/N hesitated. Was Tsukishima trying... to be nice? “Why... why did you buy it for me?”

“I just said why,” Tsukishima scoffed, flicking her head gently. He scolded himself internally, feeling guilty as soon as she showed the surprise on her face. She’s asking why you thought to be nice, Kei, stop being snarky, he told himself harshly. “Sorry,” he muttered quickly, feeling almost immediately bad for flicking her.

Y/N just laughed though, giggles spilling from her lips as she looked up at him, “Are you feeling okay, Tsukishima-san? You’re turning red,” she teased gently and he looked away from her quickly, hating how quickly his face heated up.

He took a breath, trying to mimic how calm he was on the court. He turned back to look at her with a cocky smile and confidence gaze, though he was sure she could tell he was nervous, “I’m fine, Y/N-san. But I need to tell you something. And I’m only going to say it once so listen up.”

Y/N watched him intently, noting the fake confidence he was trying to put on. She nodded as he looked at her for any sign to keep going.

His lips opened for a moment and Y/N could’ve sworn there was a moment of panic in his eyes when nothing came out. “I’m going to walk you home today,” Tsukishima stated finally, each word thudding into the air. He felt his confidence falter as the wrong words left his mouth, shifting his bag on his shoulder and starting to walk ahead.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, feeling her confusion only rise. Did he really build up that whole thing... just to walk her home?

“Hurry up or I’ll leave you here,” Tsukishima called behind his shoulder, still walking ahead. He was internally punching himself, groaning and uttering insults at his own stupid self. Couldn’t even say it. Couldn’t just say Y/N I like you and I think I’m either allergic to you or I’m utterly in love with you but I’ve been told I suck at explaining how I feel and that I never say the right things at the right time so please just reject me so I can move away from these exhausting feelings.

“Want some?” Y/N’s gentle voice was suddenly beside him, and Tsukishima felt his stomach doing that flipping motion again. He glanced down at her and saw her holding up the juice box at him. “Seems only fair, since you bought it,” she explained, the glimmer in her eyes making him feel way too warm inside.

“Sure,” he mumbled after a moment. She smiled just a little bit wider, holding up the juice to him, expecting him to just snatch it away and drink. But no, Tsukishima being a little bitch and deciding that if he couldn’t admit anything with words, he could try with actions, leaned down slightly, and latched his lips onto the straw. His hand wrapped around hers over the juice box, holding it still as he took a sip.

Y/N felt like she was suddenly bright red, her heart possibly having exploded right then and there. His eyes looked up to meet hers as he sipped, smirking a bit as he noticed the panicked and flushed look in her eyes.

Maybe the feeling is... mutual?

“Mm,” he hummed, pulling away after keeping her gaze for a second. “I guess I can see why you like it.”

Y/N had shivers running up and down her spine, feeling like Tsukishima had looked into her very soul and knew about her year-long crush on him.

The two of them started walking a bit slower after that, and to the external eye, you’d probably just see two classmates walking home together. But look a little closer, and you’d see both of them having internal conflicts. They managed to walk through the small roads filled with shops and make it about halfway to Y/N’s house in complete silence.

“Y/N-san,” Tsukishima finally ended it, the agonizing silence, in which he had been racking his brain trying to think of how to start a conversation. He stopped in his tracks as he spoke the one word, the two of them now on a quieter dirt path. There was no one to interrupt them, no one to save Tsukishima from embarrassment, no Yamaguchi to fill the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Y/N looked back at him, noticing him just standing there. “Are you alright, Tsukishima-san?”

“There’s something I need to say,” he started, his hands in his pockets clenched into fists.

“O-Oh okay.”

“I’ve been... feeling sick around you.” Baka, he scolded himself for what felt like the millionth time. That definitely wasn’t the way he had wanted to say it. “I-I mean, not like sick sick but like allergy sick,” he tried to recover, but scoffed at himself since that wasn’t all that much better.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in response, trying to think about his reactions lately. He had definitely been more flushed lately, but she always thought that was annoyance. He’d been quieter and more distant, but it was Tsukishima after all. He looked over to her desperately, hoping to see that she was understanding what he was trying to say. She wasn’t.

Tsukishima was starting to get frustrated. He knew he wasn’t the greatest at communicating but how hard was it to see how much he liked her? Yamaguchi saw it, hell, even his upperclassmen teased him about it when they first saw Tsukishima and Y/N walking out of class together one day. So why did other people who didn’t need to know it, why did they understand but she didn’t? Why was she so dense?

You’re not saying anything, his mind reminded him as he scowled to himself.

“It has to be that,” Tsukishima finally continued quietly, his eyes now staring at his feet. He was practically trying to convince himself now. It had to be that there was a health related issue with him being around her. It had to be that, because if it wasn’t, it meant that Tsukishima had to tell her how he felt. And that meant that he was probably going to end up hurt. Why a girl like Y/N hung around a guy like him anyways was beyond him.

“Why?” Y/N frowned, still terribly lost in the cosmos of this odd confession. “Why would it have to be that?”

“Because if it isn’t that, then it means that I’ve fallen completely head over heels for you.”

Tsukishima wasn’t sure how he had managed to say the words. But there it was. His fists tightened even more, his fingernails digging into his palm so hard it was starting to hurt.

His eyes closed tightly, turning his head away from her. He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see laughter or disgust in her eyes. Maybe he could take it back now. Maybe he could-

Tsukishima jumped at the feeling of a poke on his chest, his eyes opening in surprise when he found Y/N standing much closer than she was earlier. “Are you teasing me?” She asked defensively, squinting her eyes up at him.

“T-Teasing?” Tsukishima stammered. He watched her eyes, noting how visibly upset she looked and he could feel his frustration rising. He had finally said what he had wanted to say this whole time... and she wasn’t even reacting the way she was supposed to. How stupid did she have to be? And why did she have to look so damn cute while doing it?

“Yamaguchi-san told you, didn’t he? I knew that poophead couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” she grumbled, crossing her arms against her chest. “He swore he wouldn’t tell you, but I should’ve known. You guys are best friends and all.”

“Told me... told me what?”

“That I’ve liked you practically since we met,” Y/N huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Listen, Tsukishima-san, if you don’t like me back, you don’t have to tease me like this. I’m perfectly fine being rejected,” she told him with a pout on her lips (she was definitely not fine being rejected, and was planning on crying at home after this). “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

Tsukishima‘s eyes widened, staring at her like she had grown a second head. “You... You like me?” He gulped. His allergies must be getting worse, his heart was thumping so hard against his chest, he couldn’t think straight.

Y/N and him shared a confused look for a moment, neither one of them sure who was teasing whom at this point. “Didn’t... didn’t you know? That’s why you’re being nice to me?” She asked him, poking his chest again. “Why else would you be walking me home and buying me juice?”

“Why would...” Tsukishima’s lips curled into a smile and suddenly he burst out into laughter, tilting his head back in amusement.

“Why are you laughing?” Y/N whined, punching his arm lightly with a huff. “This isn’t a time to be laughing at me!”

Tsukishima straightened up with his signature cocky smile, shaking his head as he fixed his glasses on his face. Then, his hand moved to hit the top of her head.

“OW! Tsukishima-san!”

“You idiot. Why would I be standing here confessing to you if I was just going to make fun of you?” Tsukishima scoffed, smirking at her. “If I didn’t like you back and I found out you liked me, don’t you think I would’ve made it clear by now that you never stood a chance?”

Y/N thought about this for a moment, remembering that one time a girl in a different class had confessed to him after attending one of his matches.

“I think you’re incredible, Tsukishima-san! A-And I just.... well I just...”

“Are you trying to confess to me?” Tsukishima didn’t even bother looking up from his study book, finishing an equation before even glancing at her. “You should just give up now. I’m not interested.”

The girl had teared up so much, even Y/N had felt bad (even though she was secretly happy that Tsukishima hadn’t accepted the confession). Yamaguchi had yelled at Tsukishima about being gentle that day.

“Why would I be nice to someone stupid enough to think I’d like them? I didn’t give her any hints that I did, I don’t even know her,” Tsukishima grumbled.

Y/N had internalized those words, deciding she wouldn’t confess her feelings to Tsukishima ever. If she did, and Tsukishima rejected her, he probably wouldn’t want to be around her as friends ever again.

“So...” Y/N thought to herself for a moment, trying to reexamine what had happened today. “What was with the juice box then?” She asked him.

“I thought...” Tsukishima frowned a little, looking up at the sky in thought. “I thought when you confess you were supposed to... give a gift or something.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at his thought process and Tsukishima glared at her slightly. “You’re laughing at me now?”

She shook her head quickly, trying to stifle her giggles, “I just... I think it’s sweet,” she beamed, holding onto her little juice box even though it was empty now.

Tsukishima watched her carefully before smiling a little, patting her head gently, “Alright then, let’s get you home. I’ll bring another juice box for you for our date.”

“D-Date?” Y/N repeated shyly, following him as he started to walk again.

“You thought I’d just confess to you and not ask you out? Idiot,” Tsukishima smirked, feeling such an intense relief on his shoulders. His heart was still beating furiously and his stomach felt like it was going to come up his throat, but... it wasn’t as frustrating of a feeling now.

After he dropped her off at her house with the promise of walking her to school tomorrow morning, Tsukishima couldn’t help but allow himself to smile widely the whole way home.

If this is what an allergy felt like, he never wanted it to stop.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Okay like I mentioned up there in the Author’s Notes, this is my first time writing for Haikyuu so lmk what you thought :) I’ve written some stuff for OHSHC and I think it’s pretty obviously that tall jerks with glasses are my type lol

Anyways! Enjoy!

1K notes · View notes

koushisbabie · 4 years ago

Text

Lovebites w Kenma

“i think i should submit here but may i please get a fluffy kenma one-shot where he kinda tackles the reader away from their study stuff because he needs attention and their relationship is relatively new so kissing and makeout stuff is rare but he's just kissing up on the reader's neck, nibbling on their neck, then just cuddling them after leaving a pretty hickey there, admiring the color on their skin before offering words of affection and just massive cuddles? i would love u forever” Request from @haikyutiehoe

I kind of took creative liberty with this one, and it’s KIND OF suggestive near the end?? I hope you like it! (I also didn’t reread and edit it bc I’m supposed to be doing my essay lol)

TW: lovebites/hickeys, general fluff, suggestive at the end, probably doesn’t qualify as nsfw but like, be wary.

Pairing: Kenma x gn!reader

Word Count: 1,037

Soft lofi plays in the background as my fingers hover over the page in front of me. Loose documents and various writing accoutrement lie strewn across the kotatsu and spill over onto the floor surrounding me. Three almost empty mugs sit amongst the mess, their remaining contents long gone cold and stagnant.

I glance at the time, briefly scanning over missed messages waiting to be acknowledged. One message in particular catches my attention. A simple ‘what are you up to?’ Followed by ‘just a heads up, I’m streaming soon, wanna hang out after?’ And a third message ‘y/n, are you done yet?’.

Exhaustion seems to have made a permanent home in my limbs, but that not prevent me from instinctively smiling at the phone screen. I type back a hurried ‘I'm still studying, we can hang out later’ before turning the phone face down and shifting my attention back to the ruckus in front of me. I inwardly groan at the idea of trying to stuff copious amounts of information into my already tired brain, yet despite the hassle, somehow manage to force myself to open the next textbook and begin reading.

An indeterminate amount of time passes before a shrill vibrating erupts from the phone to my right. It pulls me out of my trance, and I reluctantly pick up the phone.

‘Hello?’

‘You’re still alive.’

‘Just barely.’

Kenma’s quiet laugh sounds on the other end.

‘What did you need?’ I ask, holding the phone between my cheek and my shoulder, using my free hands to write a few words down into my study notes.

‘Just checking up on you, you’ve been at this for hours,’ Kenma replies. ‘Come upstairs, give yourself a break, we can watch a movie or something.’

‘Tempting, but there’s some methods I haven’t completely wrapped my head around yet,’ I say, hoping that frustration does not wind its way into my voice.

‘Have you even eaten yet?’ Kenma interjects.

I glance guiltily at the snacks I vaguely recall him silently leaving on the table hours ago. ’I drank the tea,’ I quickly add, ’thank you, Kenma.’

He sighs audibly. ’Y/n...’

‘I'll eat, I promise, just a few more hours, okay?’ I smile into the phone, knowing very well he cannot see me.

‘Sure, Y/n,’ he says finally.

The phone goes silent and for a split second I consider just going upstairs to check that he isn’t sulking. He can handle a few more hours, I think. Turning back to my notes, I continue to read.

Before long, there is the muffled sound of footsteps on carpet, a door sliding open, and the gentle kneeling of a person behind me. Warmth envelopes me as sweatshirt clad arms encircle my waist, a cold nose nuzzling into my neck, the tickling of outgrown blonde hair against my skin.

‘Kenma?’ I peer at him out of the corner of my eye. ‘What’s up? You okay?’

‘Do you know what time it is?’ Comes his muffled voice. His lips press against my neck as he speaks, sending shivers down my spine.

‘It’s, uh,’ I go to check my phone, but Kenma’s hand grabs my wrist.

‘It’s time for you to listen to reason,’ he kisses my neck in between speaking, ‘and spend time with me.’

‘This is out of the blue,’ I laugh nervously. ‘Since when do you make the first move?’

‘Just because I haven’t done it before, doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it,’ Kenma blushes. ‘Is it really that weird?’

It’s now my turn to be embarrassed. ‘No, I like it.’

He presses his mouth against my neck more firmly. ‘What is it that you like, Y/n?’

‘That,’ I murmur in response, closing my eyes. ‘When you kiss me.’

His arms pull me ever closer, before using one cool hand to pull the neck of my shirt further to the side, exposing my collar bone. He places kisses fervently against my skin, the warmth and the firmness growing with each movement. I resist squirming in his grasp, not wanting to ruin the romance of the moment, despite the flustering in my belly. ‘Tell me if it hurts,’ Kenma murmurs into my ear, his lips tickling my earlobe deliciously.

‘It doesn’t.’

A moment of hesitation passes before the next kiss turns into something sharper, more urgent. He bites me hard enough to hold the skin between his lips before sucking gently and placing a soft kiss. I turn my gaze to his, the flecks of gold in his eyes shimmering innocently back at me, as if he wasn’t pushing every button I have in this moment. Almost every button.

‘Did you like that?’

The curiosity in his question almost makes me want to laugh. ’I did, yes.’

Kenma shifts his attention to my neck, his lips forming a lovely ‘o’ in surprise. He takes a hand and strokes the tender area. ‘You beginning to bruise.’

‘Am I?’ I cannot quite see the bruises.

‘I didn’t think I was that hard,’ Kenma gives a tiny smile. ‘Sorry.’

I grin mischievously at him. ’Something tells me you aren’t actually sorry for that at all.’

‘Maybe not,’ Kenma buries his blush in the crook of my neck, pulling me into an even tighter embrace.

‘Wanna go continue this upstairs?’ I ask, taking a hand and running it through the stray strands of his soft hair. This elicits a soft moan from Kenma, not unlike a cat’s purr.

‘That’s what I’ve been asking you for hours,’ He whines.

‘Ah, so you were sulking!’

‘Was not,’ Kenma argues. ‘Just, come be with me for a bit. I’ve missed you.’

Guilt tugs at my heartstrings. ’I’ve missed you, too.’

He meets my eyes with a tenderness that renders me speechless, and for a long second, nothing existed besides the two of us. God, he’s beautiful.

I stand and offer him my hand, to which he takes without hesitation. He eyes the mess I’ve made of my textbooks and study notes. 'I'll clean it tomorrow,’ I shrug. ‘Right now, I want to see how many more love bites you can give me.’

‘Anything for you,’ Kenma replies as he leads me by the hand to the sanctuary of the bedroom.

masterlist

#kenma x reader #kenma kozume #haikyuu!!#kenma x yn #kenma one shots #kenma imagine #fic request #haikyuu #haikyu imagine #kenma fluff #haikyuu fluff

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milazka · 5 years ago

Text

Distraction — Drew Starkey.

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where the quaterback of the football team helps you forget about your bad grade.

request: yes

content: fluff & smut

author’s note: it’s my very first story about a member of the cast of outer banks! i would like to clarify that all this is fictional, i only use the looks and the names of the actors and actresses. my masterlist will be linked at the end of this story if you feel like reading some other fics. this one is for my babe cort ( @pogue-writings ) because she is drew’s soulmate.

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word Count: 1957.

The campus library has always been her favorite spot to study. It's quiet and the atmosphere is always soothing, the exact opposite of her dorm room where her roommate seems more interested in experimenting the male anatomy than studying it in her textbook. A few weeks ago, after catching her once again during the act, she had decided to find a new place to study. She had walked around the campus and eventually found this spot around one of the large hardwood tables that stand between the bookshelves full of old books about psychology. The perfect place to set her in a study mood.

For the past few hours, she has been sitting in her usual place, her textbook open in front of her eyes and her black notebook on her right. She only has one midterm left in two days and it will cover all the topics seen in her subconscious psychology course, which is one of her most interesting courses, but also the one that requires the longest hours of study in order to pass the exams.

The sound of a chair gliding on the floor makes her look up and she’s surprised to see Drew, a boy from her psychology of the subconscious class, sit on the chair in diagonal to her. Normally, the library is almost empty at this time of the night and she never saw him here; he seems like the kind of guy who spends more time on the football field than he does in front of his textbooks. They’ve been in the same class for four months, but she never really paid attention to him, except when he is disturbing the class with the two other musketeers, Chase and Rudy. She smiles nicely at him when their eyes meet and he raises his coffee cup which he pretends to drink all at once while they both laugh silently, hoping not to be warned by Mrs. Jones, the librarian who looks strangely similar to Roz from the movie Monster inc.

She tries to put her nose back in her book, trying to focus on the pages suggested in the study guide and highlighting important sentences from a passage about Freud and his discovery of psychoanalysis, but she can't help but look up discreetly at the boy. He is wearing a navy flannel shirt which, half-buttoned, reveals a white shirt that moulds his muscular chest. His trademark cap, which he always wears backwards, rests as usual on the top of his head, still letting a few strands of hair slip out of the hat. She particularly lingers on his muscled arms covered by the navy blue cloth, it's not surprising that he's the quarterback on the football team. The studious look on his face and the way he’s chewing on the tip of his pencil while frowning makes him look cuter than usual, she can’t deny it.

When she sees the lateness of the hour, she delicately puts her books back in her red bag, not noticing how intensely the boy is staring at her. He simply can't help but admire her sweet angelic face, her tired-looking little eyes, the thin, shiny layer of lip balm covering her lips that he would dream of kissing; he likes everything about her and cannot help but smile foolishly.

“Hey Y/n,” he whispers, catching her attention. “Me and the boys are throwing a party friday night, you should come.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she smiles at him, noticing his blushing cheeks and the little spark in his gaze.

“Great! Good luck on your exam.”

“Good luck to you too. I’ll see you friday.”

─── °• ❀ ───

The room goes from purple to blue, then from blue to pink, courtesy of the spotlights that change the colour of the room's luminosity along the rhythm of the music. The parties hosted by the university football team always do justice to their reputation, no matter what’s the occasion. It's not the first time she attends one, but it's the first time she’s been invited by the quarterback. Her mind did not stop playing back the memory of the little sparkle in the young man's eyes when she had accepted his invitation. Maybe it meant nothing, but a part of her wants to believe it didn't. Plus, she really needs to take her mind off things after receiving her mediocre grade from the last exam. She knew her teacher was strict, but not this strict.

As she makes her way through the dancing crowd, an arm slips around her naked shoulders, making her startles. She's used to being approached by boys at parties, but she hates it when they think they can do anything and touch her even if she doesn't want to. Looking up, she loosen up when she sees Drew's familiar face smirking at her and she's glad it's not a drunk who's asking her to blow him.

“I'm so glad you came,” he says to her as he hands her a red cup filled with beer. “How did your exam go?”

She pouts, taking a big sip of the golden liquid that tickles her throat.

“Really bad.”

“That sucks,” she raises an eyebrow at the boy as when he takes back the cup that he just gave her and drops it on the countertop behind him. “C’mon, I have the perfect remedy for a bad grade.”

Drew takes her tiny hand into his big one, guiding her to the backyard where several tables are set up to play beer pong. Small lights illuminate the yard where games have already started. People cheer each other up and yell like crazy when someone manage to get the ball in a cup. She recognizes Rudy’s familiar blond hair when he jumps into Jonathan's arms and she deduces they just won their game against Madison and Austin. Everyone laughs when the two boys lose their balance and crash into the grass, grunting at each other. Her hand is still holding Drew's firmly when he walks up to Chase who is sitting in a chair close to the fire pit with his girlfriend on his lap, grilling and eating marshmallows.

“Yo Chase! Me and Y/n vs Maddie and you?” Drew challenges his friend, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Game on, baby!” Chase exclaims as they both stand up and follow them to the table.

She and Drew make a fire team, throwing a series of winning shots and gradually getting Madelyn and Chase drunk. All the way through the game, she never worries about her bad grade, it's like it never existed. The alcohol in her bloodstream seems to be opening her eyes to Drew's attractiveness. The girl never really paid attention to how he is totally her type of guy. She bites her lower lip, obviously checking him out when he pulls off his hoodie and his shirt comes up, revealing the prominent V-shape above the hem of his pants.

“Like what you see, don't ya?” he teases the girl, an irresistible smile on the corner of his lips.

She blushes up to her ears, making Drew laugh, and he just adds to her embarrassment by putting his arm around her shoulders before throwing the last ball who lands directly into the last standing cup. Maybe it's the emotion of the moment for her, whereas he's been dreaming about it for months, but their eyes meet each other and suddenly their lips collide. The kiss doesn't last long, not long enough in his opinion. The flight of butterflies in the young woman's belly doesn't disappear when their lips separate, she needs to kiss him again, to feel him touch her.

“I need you, Drew.” she whines close to his ear, making his heart skips a beat. "God, Y/n," he breaths out, pulling her closer to him. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming about you saying that to me?”

She just winks at him and grabs his hand, pulling him toward the front door as he pinches himself on the arm, not believing that this is really happening. He throws a murderous look at Rudy and Chase who make fun of him by pretending to make out sensually. They pass through the living room which is still full of people swinging their bodies to the rhythm of the music and climb upstairs where Drew guides them to his room. He slams her against the door, his hands grabbing her hips as he kisses her again. She bites his lower lip, making him growl against her mouth. Drew starts to place open mouthed kisses on her neck and she tiltes it to give him full access to her burning skin. He leads her to the bed, pinning her on the mattress and he removes her short as he is now hovering over her half naked body. His hand slides down her thigh, making her squirm under him as he gets closer to her core. He plays with the waistband of her panties, smirking against her lips.

“Drew,” she moans, looking at him with her eyes filled with desire. He grabs her waist and flip them over so she is now straddling him. She unbuttons his khaki shirt, slipping his hands over his muscular chest. She starts to grind down on his lap, making him whine and dig his fingers into her buttcheeks

“It's not about me tonight, I'm not the one who needs to be distracted.” he whispers to her ear before flipping her over again so that he is now hovering over her.

She lets out a few muffled moans as he leaves a trail of kisses between her breast and on her stomach. He sucks and nibbles at the skin on her inner thighs, only increasing her desire to feel him on her already wet womanhood.

“You’re so pretty, all wet and spread out like this, just for me.”

“Drew, please…” she begs, but he cuts her short by placing a kiss on her clit, slipping her underwear off. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above her wet folds, making her buck her hips up.

“So eager, baby, I like it.” he hums just above her bundle of nerves, sending vibrations on it. She runs her fingers through his light brown hair, pushing him closer to her heat. He finally licks a full stripe through her folds, making her back arch to the so desired feeling.

“Oh fuck,” she groans as he inserts one finger in her, his tongue sucking on her clit. His hands are firmly wrapped around her thighs to keep her spread open for him. She clenches the sheets between her fists, her eyes close under the wave of pleasure that runs through her body when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. His nose rubs up against her clit as he moves his face, pumping his tongue in and out of her.

“Fuck I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she moans, making him pumps his tongue faster. A few profanities mixed with loud moans leave her lips as she reaches her high, legs shaking on his shoulders. He licks her folds a few more times to clean her up, sending electric jolts through her body when he touches her sensitive nerves from the orgasm. He lies down beside her, pulling her towards him with his arms wrapped around her body.

“What about you? I’m no the type of girl who doesn’t give back,” she starts but Drew shushes her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure you’re not, but tonight it’s about you and only you.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect, y’a know?”

“It was about time you figured that out!” he mocks her and she giggles, burying her face further into the crook of his neck.

─── °• ❀ ───

mila’s masterlist

taglist (send me an ask if you want to be added)

@milaonthemoon @spilledtee @pogue-writings @thebutterflyonhischest @ilovejjmaybank @bananasfromtarget @drewstarkeyobx @void-maybank @prejudic3

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey au #drew starkey obx #drew starkey one shot #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #obx fic #obx fanfiction #drew starkey fic

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 34

First

For those of you who read it Satisfied’s Alternate/Alternative Ending has a new chapter <3 dual update for Easter

Chat hadn’t known what to think when he was woken from his nap by buzzing. His brain had felt fuzzy, sure, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to be audible.

He pulled his face out of his pillow -- ignoring Plagg’s cry of surprise at being displaced -- and cracked an eye open.

Oh. His room was full of bees. And they were apparently taking the glitter out the window to the nearest dumpster. Oh. Okay. Why not? His life was already so weird.

He buried his face in his pillow again and went back to sleep.

When Ladybug stopped by, he had been playing late-night video games on the floor with Plagg. (Did he have an unfair advantage in his ability to hold the entire console at once? Yes. Was he going to go easy on the kwami? No.)

He tensed a little. Was she checking on her prank and about to get angry that Chloe had fixed everything (he made a mental note to thank her later, if they were both still alive)?

Ladybug and Chat looked at each other, silent, unreadable expressions on their faces... until the sound of Plagg finally beating his character with a loud screech pulled them back to reality.

Plagg may not talk, but the way he floated around Chat’s head, pumping his tiny fists in the air, was a pretty clear ‘hahahahaha I won you loser I winnnnnn’.

“Hey,” said Ladybug carefully, pulling his attention away from the gloating kwami. “Sorry if I’m interrupting something, but we really should talk…”

He hesitated slightly.

She held up her hands. “It doesn’t have to be right now but… soon?”

Chat bit his lip, and then turned off his console and set down his controller. “Now is fine.”

Ladybug nodded. “I was thinking we could get out of town for it...?”

Get out of town? Was this risky in some way? Were they about to get akumatized? Or, at least, have akumatizable emotions?

“Sure.”

So, after getting Rena to cover them for an hour while they booked it, they both left. Ladybug had her phone out, apparently to hold a map, though he didn’t really understand why because they were only really going in one direction.

“Alright!” She called suddenly from where she was flying along overhead. She swooped lower until she was buzzing along by Chat. “I think we’re far enough past the border to be safe.”

Ah. That was why. He nodded and skidded to a stop. She touched down on the ground beside him. They both mumbled to detransform and their kwamis almost instantly dove to hide in their jackets despite the fact that they were both still invisible to passerby.

They continued on in the direction they’d been heading in silence. No one was around, which wasn’t shocking considering it was nearing 1. They came to a stop at a bakery that was still open and she hesitated.

“Want something?”

He bit his lip. “Passion fruit macarons?”

She blinked, and for a moment it looked like she was going to say something, but then she nodded and headed inside to get some.

She came out a few moments later with a box of macarons for him and some regular chocolate chip cookies for herself. They settled to eat it just outside.

She nibbled at her cookies, eyes locked on a spot on the ground. He’d tried waiting for her to be ready to talk, but after a few minutes of her looking without seeing he decided he should at least say something:

“... you wanted to talk?”

She blinked a bit and looked at him, then quickly pulled her gaze back to the floor again. “Yeah. I guess I just wanted to say --.” She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. “I can’t -- I --.” She glared at a crack on the ground like it had personally offended her. “You speak English, right?”

He startled a little. It was an odd question. But, still, he nodded. “I’m rich. I had to learn English and Mandarin.”

Her face lit up and for a second she looked at him again. “You speak Mandarin?”

He nodded.

“Can we…?” She started, unsure.

“Yeah, but I might be a little rusty.”

“That makes sense. If you don’t know a word I can translate it for you. Since we’re using my language not yours,” she said in Mandarin.

(Some vague part of him noticed that she took on a different tone in Mandarin, that her voice was lighter and a little smaller, that she seemed almost happier. He wondered if she’d like it if he spoke it with her more often.)

He nodded and made a vague motion with his hand, wordlessly telling her that he was ready for her to talk.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry and… I wanted to explain myself.”

He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to, that he was also at fault, but she was already going on:

“Kwami, this is kind of embarrassing to admit to you, but my first few months of being ‘Ladybug’ didn’t go well.”

He nodded his understanding. Memories of his first few months as ‘Chat Noir’ were painful for him, too, despite how long ago it had been. All the people questioning his abilities, questioning his intentions, questioning his choices… had he not been used to media scrutiny, he doubted he would have continued on with it despite finally being able to go out in public as himself.

“I was second -- as you know, obviously -- and… a lot of comparisons were made. You’d had a year’s experience by then, and you’d had fight training beforehand, but I was just… new. You could always do things better, you were always preferred, you always got the bigger akumas while I got stuck with Mr. Pigeon and people like him. I even had a support-class-type power. Everything seemed to point to me being stuck as number two to you forever. And I think a part of me resented you for it.”

“I’m sor --.”

She cut him off with a look. “It’s not actually your fault. I shouldn’t have let it get to me as much as it did.”

He laughed without humor. “You were thirteen.”

She opened her mouth to argue, and then just shook her head and let the subject go. “Time passed, and Carapace came onto the scene, and people stopped comparing us as much… but they kept criticizing what I did. If I tried to be fun I was a ‘copycat’ and if I tried to act more serious I would be ‘bitchy’ and if I was neutral I was ‘boring’.”

He nodded slowly. He was beginning to understand where this was going.

“My sideeffects started coming in, and suddenly I was very lucky. None of the attacks ever seemed to hit me unless I REALLY messed up, and I started getting a reputation as ‘perfect’. And…” Her voice cracked a little and he looked away as she brought her arm to her face to wipe her face. “And I figured that, since I wasn’t even close to perfect, I should go with that kind of personality. At least it wouldn’t hurt as much when people criticized me, y’know? So I became everything I wasn’t, serious and perfect and --.”

He hesitated, biting his lip, and then he grabbed the sleeve of her hoodie and pulled her close. He gave her plenty of time to pull away, but she didn’t. She just buried her face in his shirt and stood there, arms limp at her sides, as he hugged her.

“I’m sorry, I should have helped --.”

“It’s fine, you couldn’t have known.” She gave a wet laugh. “You’re really good at hugs, by the way.”

“And you suck, apparently,” he teased lightly.

“Rude,” she muttered, arms coming up to wrap around him as well.

She actually was good at hugs, he thought vaguely as she molded herself to fit against his body.

He bit his lip. He could just leave the subject there. She apologized and he’d definitely gotten enough of a punishment…

He buried his face in her hair. He couldn’t even admit this to Carapace, how was he supposed to admit this to her? But… he really did want to talk about it with someone, and if anyone could understand it would probably be her...

“I… I’m in the public eye a lot. As a civilian. And my persona is a lot like yours. I’m the perfect, sweet son of --… my dad. And so, when I saw you pretending to be perfect out in public to keep up an image… I might have projected a little. I’d always kind of wanted someone to expose me as not perfect so I could be more free to be myself in public, so I wouldn’t have to spend my few hours out of the house with perfect posture and even more perfect smiles to make sure it didn’t reflect poorly on my dad.”

She smiled against his shirt. “At least you being ‘perfect’ is kinda true. Sure, you’re a little lazy sometimes, but you’re still pretty much amazing. It’s almost annoying.”

“PLEASE. If kwamis could talk, I’m sure Plagg would have a lot to complain about.”

She laughed, properly this time, and pulled away from him. She took a step back and then leaned against a lamppost without even glancing behind herself to make sure something was there. “Tikki probably has some stories, too. But, either way, you’re practically as perfect as people can be.”

He wasn’t convinced. “My first response to negative emotions was to make someone else mad enough at me to be a distraction for a few days.”

She didn’t look surprised. Not that he’d really expected her to. If Carapace had figured it out then surely she had, too; she had a few more months of psychology experience than him.

“Yeah, and? You were still calculated enough to choose the person who was least likely to get akumatized. As perfect as a person can be.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and she mimicked the action.

He looked her up and down twice before locking eyes with hers. “You’re still comparing yourself to me. You have to think I’m perfect so you can feel like Parisians were justified in comparing us and putting you down because, if they weren’t, then you have to accept the people you save on a constant basis are kinda sucky.”

She blinked and then a blush spread across her face. “Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh’.”

“I can psychoanalyze you, too,” she said, breaking gaze with him to glare at her feet. “You can’t bring yourself to believe you’re perfect because your shitty parents probably used that as a basis to punish you and you’d like to believe that they were doing it so you could be your best self rather than admitting the truth that they don’t care about you as much as they should.”

He sniffled. Wait, when did he start crying?

“... oh.”

“Yeah...”

She cleared her throat a little and that’s when he noticed she was starting to cry, too.

“Kwami, we’re both messes, huh?”

She laughed through her tears. “Fuck, maybe WE’RE the ones who need therapy, not the rest of Paris.”

“No no no, everyone in Paris needs therapy. The minute we defeat Hawkmoth I’m getting a psych degree. That’s where the money is going to be.”

“We already have honorary psych degrees. I bet if you ask Chloe she could get her dad to give you a license.”

He snapped his fingers and then pointed at her. “Smart. All those years would probably make it so therapists wouldn’t be needed as much.”

“A few years? With as much trauma as Parisians have? Nah. You’ve got at least a few decades of consistent customers. ESPECIALLY if you market it as therapy from Chat Noir.”

He managed a smile, and they were silent for a moment other than the dying sniffles and shudders.

“Are… are we good?” He asked quietly.

She blinked at him, and then looked down. There was a beat, and then she took a deep breath. She brought a smile to her face and stuck her hand out.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you! My name is Ladybug! I promise I won’t displace my anger towards Paris onto you!”

He stared at the hand, uncomprehending, and then a smile stretched across his face. He shook her hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, too! I’m Chat Noir! I won’t be blind to your problems and will help out when people are being rude to you!”

She gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t even stand up for yourself.”

“Uh… you’re right… uh… I’ll make Carapace help out when people are being rude to you!”

She laughed and shook her head. “Stupid.”

“I try.”

She smiled and hooked her arm through his.

“Whatever. Let’s get home.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

#a miraculous tiktok account #chat noir #adrien agreste #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #carapace #nino lahiffe #rena rouge #alya cesaire #miraculous tiktok account #miraculous fic #ml fic #mlb #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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justsassysworld · 5 years ago

Text

Grief Makes Bad Decisions

Grief Makes Bad (Or Maybe Not So Bad) Decisions

Beetlejuice x f!Reader

Word Count: 1823

“Gertrude, Eustace, I’m home!” you call, entering your house.

You're roommates are a lovely, but incredibly odd couple. They're ridiculously sweet, horribly in love, and over a hundred years dead.

Over a hundred and twenty years ago, they were killed by some random intruder, leaving them unable to move on from the place of their murder.

You were beyond freaked out the first time you saw them, the day after you moved into their old home. Apparently, most people don't see ghosts, but you are a strange and unusual type person. It took awhile to see past their bloody and gruesome appearances, but you've grown so used to them now that you don't even notice their bloody clothes and bullet wounds anymore.

A sense of wrongness overtakes you as you notice an envelope on an end table. It’s addressed to you.

Darling Y/N,

It has been lovely these past six months. You’re such a sweet girl who has been so good to us. We hope you will look back on your time with us with fondness, but our time has come.

We were obligated to spend one hundred and twenty five years in our home. Today marks the end of our purgatorial sentence. We had wanted to prepare you for our departure, but the exact date slipped our mind, and was upon us before we could act.

I am truly sorry we are unable to give a proper goodbye, and wish you nothing but happiness for your future. We will always appreciate the loving care and consideration you have shown us.

Wishing you a joyous and love filled life,

Eustace and Gertrude Mayford

Tears prickling your eyes, a sob wrenches from your chest. You hadn’t known them long, but you were closer to them than anyone.

The next few hours fly by as you process the loss. You find yourself seated on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand, an old flyer in the other.

You’d come across it less than a week after moving in. it was for something called a “bio-exorcist.” When you showed it to Gertrude, she rolled her eyes.

“He’s a conman. After he was caught tormenting a couple who had just died and the family that moved in after them, he was forbidden any contact with the living world for twenty years,” she looked quite annoyed, obviously not liking the man. “The sentence ended a few years ago and he’s been nothing but a nuisance ever since.”

Both Eustace and her had warned you off summoning him, even for fun, multiple times, but you’re feeling lonely, and the tiniest bit inebriated, and you need to talk to someone who might understand, at least someone who knows about the spirit world.

Steeling yourself, and sending an apology to your departed friends, you say, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice,” as quickly as possible.

Seconds roll by, leaving you disappointed. Out of nowhere, the couch shudders and quakes, making you hold on for dear life. Your eyes squeeze shut until the ride comes to an end.

A maniacal laugh and a hand on your leg has your eyes snapping an eye open. You let out a startled scream, jumping up from your spot, wanting to get some space between you and the...man?

“Who-who the hell are you?” you stutter, logic refusing to make itself known.

He gives you a huge grin, mossy teeth glittering in the low light, “I’m the ghost with the most, babe.”

“So, you’re Beet-” you’re cut off, physically unable to finish.

Eyes wide, you take in his satisfied smirk and his wagging finger, letting you know he’s responsible. “Uh uh uh, babes. We won’t be using that name again tonight.”

You bolt up, pacing the floor. Experimentally, you try to speak, “So,” you sigh in relief. “You’re the...person the Mayfords warned me about? I was expecting someone scarier.”

“Scarier?” he looks at you like you’ve got two heads.

“Well, yeah,” you say, beyond blunt. Nerves making you lose all tact. “I mean, you’re hardly intimidating. You’re not that much taller than me, you’ve got a bit of a gut, and honestly, you’re more gross than scary.”

Your pacing is brought to a sudden halt by a shockingly strong pair of hands. He pushes until you’re pressed against a wall, his arms bracket your head, trapping you. Something odd grips your wrists and ankles, spreading you out before him.

You’re suddenly horribly aware of your lack of clothes, in just your pajamas, a paper thin tank top and tiny pair of shorts. His hands still by your head, he gives you a long look over, his gaze almost tactile.

Except it’s not just his gaze that’s touching you, he seems to have grown a third arm out of his chest, which is running down your body, from just south of your breasts to just north of your shorts.

“Well now, babes,’ he growls in your ear. “I could do anything I want to you, there ain’t a thing you can do to stop me. You still think you I’m not intimidating?”

Swallowing hard, you decide to press your luck. “Intimidating? Not really. Dominant and sexy? Fuck yeah.”

A coy smile crosses your lips as his jaw drops. As what you said sinks in, an evil grin splits his face.

“Oh, babycakes,” his lips are a hair's breadth from yours. “Game on.” His mouth crashes against yours; lips, teeth, and tongues battling for control.

Your fight is half hearted at best, wanting him to be in charge. Out of nowhere you’re released, falling into his waiting arms. He carries you to the couch, placing you how he wants you, naked at crouch level, clothes melting away.

You bite your lip, looking at him with fluttering lashes. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Juice.”

“Fuck yeah there is,” he purrs, fingers digging in your hair. “I want you to play with your pretty little pussy while I use your mouth as my own personal cock sleeve.”

You wrinkle your nose, about to remark on that comment, when he opens his pants, pulling out his cock. Tilting your head, you take it in.

It’s as pale as the rest of him, around average length, but really fucking girthy, perfect for sex, but it was going to be hell on your jaw. You’re up for the challenge.

Starting to lean forward, you’re surprised when he stops you. “Uh uh uh, I’m captain of this cruise.”

He pulls you up to kiss just under his belly button, before having you kiss your way to and down his shaft. At the head, he commands, “Lick it.”

You do, treating it like your favorite lollipop. Feeling mischievous, you manage to give it one quick suck before he pulls you away. “Naughty girl.”

He gives you a wink that you return.

The tease lasts much longer than you would have thought, his stamina shocking you. He reminds you that you’re supposed to be providing him with some visual stimulus, so you run your hand down to your aching clit.

Jas you start to pleasure yourself, he lets you take him in your mouth, slowly. Stroking in and out, more of a tease than anything. Every time you try to take him deeper, he pulls back or pulls you away.

You’re starting to get frustrated, when he starts to thrust, slow and easy, allowing you to get used to his girth.

“Two inside, babes,” he pants, confusing you until you realize what he wants.

Hand slipping lower, you slip your middle and ring fingers into your pussy, surprised at just how wet you are. Using your palm to keep pressure on your clit, you keep pace with him the best you can. As you both grow closer, your breathing turns into pants, moans, and groans.

“Cum for me,” he commands, a growl deepening his voice. “Cum all over your hand.”

Unable to resist, you do, thrashing and screaming around his thick pulsing cock. This triggers his own orgasm, sending a spray of surprisingly pleasant, viscous cum. You swallow every drop.

You try to lean back, but he stops you, flipping you over the back of the couch.

His hands caress your ass, occasionally dropping sharp slaps, making you gasp. One hand slips to feel just how wet you are.

“What a dirty girl.”

You feel his breath against your heated flesh, seconds before a ridiculously long tongue buries itself deep inside your core. It wiggles and worms, finding every crevice, every pleasurable nook you never knew you had. Trying to move, wanting more, he holds you tight, keeping you right where he wants you. Using his tongue and fingers he draws two more explosive climaxes from deep inside.

He then repositions you. Laying on your back, you catch your breath as he settles between your spread thighs.

You whimper, “BJ, I’m too sensitive.”

His grin is less than reassuring. He drapes himself over you, planting another lingering kiss on your lips, cock brushing against your screaming clit. “Good,” he growls, “I want you cummin’ all over my dick.”

You try to jerk away, body refusing anymore pleasure, but Beetlejuice is having none of it. He pins your arms above your head, starting to thrust into you. Grinding and twisting, he’s buried deep. Against your wishes, your legs wrap around his hips, drawing him tighter.

Nibbling your neck, he sets a breakneck pace. A blinding light over takes you as another screaming orgasm tears through you, then another, and another.

Finally, when it feels like you’re about to pass out, you feel his cum spurt deep inside, hearing him growl low as his teeth sink in your shoulder.

“Beetlejuice!”

Minutes pass, or hours, or maybe even days, as you regain your senses. You’re surprised to find yourself in your bed, even more to realize it’s not your body pillow you’re cuddling, but an actual body.

Looking up as much as your sore muscles will allow, anger shoots through you.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hey, babes,” he grins down at you, cigar in one hand, glass of wine in the other. “Mornin’”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“Yes.”

A minute passes, “Well?”

“I told you, ‘Yes,’ answering your question.” The glimmer in his eyes telling you he knows what you want, and he’s enjoying your frustration.

Taking a deep breath, you grind out, “Is there a reason you’re smoking a cigar in my very much non-smoking home? Also, what possessed you to pour yourself the last glass of my fifty dollar wine?”

He just gives you a shit eating grin, refusing to answer.

Shaking your head and sighing, you drop your head back on his chest, lacking the energy to argue.

“Goodnight, BJ.”

“Goodnight, roomie.”

You’re just about to drift back off, when your eyes snap open, “Roomie!?”

#keatlejuice #keatlejuice fic #keatlejuice smut #sassy writes #keatlejuice x reader #beetlejuice #beetlejuice smut #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice x f!reader #fem!reader

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apsaraqueen · 4 years ago

Text

what the body knows

A gift of smut and angst for the wonderful, magical @coppercrane2, one of the mods over at @ssminibang, and also? Very much one of my favorite people. I hope you enjoy this, Charlie!

title: what the body knows fandom: Sailor Moon characters/ships: Rei/Mars x reincarnated!Jadeite rating: R for explicit sexual content below the cut, along with canon and non-canon character death

“You just a little hungry, or,” he wonders, warm breath shivering across her breastbone, “you starving?”

what the body knows

…

In the windows the sky is thickly concrete, a fine film of drizzle that had gone all morning and kept them indoors, and perhaps it’s only because of a brief lull in its gentle rush against the roof that he can even hear her pause, sock–footed and quiet, on her way down the hall. Feet arrested on the threshold to the kitchen where he stands facing the sink. She listens to the ripe snap of his teeth, breaking the taut skin of a plum; the back of his hand abortively wiping juice from his chin as he turns partially around. Dim light silhouettes the edge of his jaw.

“Hey,” Junin says to her, mouth full, not even looking in her direction, “it’s getting late. Eat something.”

Sunday, and so far she’s spent it in the pantry, clearing out the back for the first time anyone’s done in – years. The smell of old crumbling contact paper lining the shelves, ringed with rusty stains from canned tuna, pineapples, curry, all with expiration dates embarrassingly long gone by. Twine, cracked soup bowls, aluminum foil, a casserole someone had gifted her (bizarrely) after the funeral. Other things. Packets of her grandfather’s aspartame, the mints he nibbled when his sugar slid, protein shakes with ingredients she still couldn’t pronounce. Milk protein concentrate, calcium caseinate, 1% or less of the following: inulin, cellulose gel, magnesium phosphate, artificial flavors. What does the body know, Rei thinks, recalling how she poured down the drain half-glasses of chocolate-flavored fluid while her grandfather dozed, his belly rejecting the decoy of sustenance, patiently eating itself down to something that could be lost or wander away, float off on a breeze. Into trash bags they all went, revealing space in the pantry like new skin. When she had emerged blinking into the hall even that darkening afternoon had seemed too bright. Now here she is – and here he is. In one hand the plum, in the other a bowl with a second one. Cut up how she liked, to keep her lip balm intact.

This was what stopped her short. How he would’ve had to have seen her pickily dicing her fruit like that; how alarming, to find herself the focus of such complete and close attention.

She’s already moving without conscious thought, hand on his arm, turning him. Rei gives him no chance to see her face. Her fingers climb the shaved sides of his head, taking the slightly grown-out hair atop for purchase; her eyes fall shut as her jaw cants up, triangulating from memory where his mouth is. His small surprised laugh is swallowed down her throat. “Rei.”

What does the body ask for? Under her palms the cord of his neck, his chest and stomach are all tangibilities, warm blood and muscle, and it feels, almost, as if she’s the one who might fly away. Months ago when he’d first reached for her she’d jumped back as if scorched; it had been so long since she felt another person’s skin. Now, she sucks his tongue from his mouth, sticky plum juice off his day-old beard. If she could she’d suck the air out of his lungs. She gets her hand in his briefs, around his cock, and he does not hesitate. The fruit goes rolling across the floor when he hoists her on the counter, accidentally dislodging her hand; there’s a brief struggle of crossing limbs, she straining for him as he steps between her legs, somehow both tugging down and rucking up her short dress. It’s faster than he usually moves, unlike him to accede to her impatience. He palms her breast in a rough squeeze, ducks his head to lick the nipple. Tiny hairs rise all over her skin. When she rubs her thumb over the wet tip of his cock he laughs and gasps both at once, and it’s so exactly what she’d wanted from him without needing to ask that closed, still, the corners of Rei’s eyes suddenly sting.

“You just a little hungry, or,” he wonders, warm breath shivering across her breastbone, “you starving?”

She wants to tell him, but what’s lodged in her gullet is an animal or the selfish type of spirit (her own) she read about in childhood, devouring whatever would come out, ravenous for anything coming in. So she tells him by doing, gets a brusquer hold on him, throttling down, the rough edge she’s learned he craves. When they’re like this he’s vocal but not about his desires; always they seem matched to hers, as if he’s afraid she’ll balk. I like everything you do to me. But what does the body want? Surely there are acts he had begged from others before her, as they kissed and touched skin and shed their clothes on the floor, acts he and she have yet to perform. Clear directives and not only suggestions found in the jump of his stomach, his head lolling back to the futon in lamp light, brow strained, almost as if he’s in pain. Maybe he is. Starving the same as her, desire tamped down inside. But in his presence it’s impossible to swallow her wants, hide or make them casual. As she beats Junin off, her hand sure in a way she does not feel, he drops his face in her chest, shuddering. His fingers insinuate themselves along her inner thigh, twist away her underwear. The tip of one dipping there, barely into her sex. Maybe he doesn’t realize. How much of him she would take.

The air in the kitchen feels heavy and cool, window cracked open (broken), all that unspent water loading the sky. In her ears is the hushed mix of their breaths and she finds herself counting his, noting each hitch, each sigh. Familiar. But Junin feels more solid than anyone she has held, hips digging into her thighs, width of his torso crowding her, his head tucked under her chin in the guarded apostrophe of her throat. She has an urge to take him further into herself somehow, a sentiment that feels protective but lacks the associated tenderness: selfish again, the frank way she would consume air or water, things the body needs. When he leaks a little the friction eases, so she grips harder to compensate, drags slow from root to tip. His answering groan is muffled into her sternum, a low, defenseless thing, and her mouth goes wet. A dozen unwired thoughts light up her mind at once. The noise her father made when the hospital called – Kaidou’s lips tensely closed under her own – Junin’s thumb stroking her throat as she kissed him, imbuing her with an odd, illogical sense of safety – the deep chill of her grandfather’s forehead the time she touched it last. Going out under the eaves this morning, looking at the sky, wondering if the drizzle was rain, really, or only mist. Putting out her palm to check as if this was a distinction that mattered. Sustenance, decoy.

What does the body know? Her eyelids flutter when Junin pushes two fingers into her, long and recurving like a bow, hooking at the place where she already feels something – not pleasure, not quite – starting to take form. Something stronger and less anodyne, like biting the inside of her cheek and tonguing the resulting wound: a sharp, dizzy sensation of brilliance, copper dissolving in her mouth. Something her body already knew for itself, what was asked for, wanted, needed. The first time he’d so much as touched her hand – that recognition – instant. In that moment she had understood what was known could never be unknown. But where did that leave her without him? The broad slope of Junin’s back encompasses her field of vision, the old gray college T-shirt in graying light, his shoulder moving up and down. Breaths burst from her in harsh little pants. He shifts into focus, making no attempt to delay or tease, working the tips of his fingers into that tenderness again and again with brutal efficiency. As if from someplace far away Rei hears herself whimper.

Junin kisses the divot of her collarbone. “You good?” he murmurs. His voice ragged. “You okay?”

The gentleness in his words calls up that thing in her gullet again, another pang of hunger, and she feels as if she’s being carved wide, skinned and left out open. Any moment he could glance up and witness her. The late day shines darkly through the windows, through the gleam of what could be rain or mist or nothing at all. Her skin feels like a bruise everywhere he’s against it, throbbing and too soft to be touched. Down where she’s holding him she can feel the trip of his pulse. What does the body know? The length of his cock overfills her small hand and she wonders if when they make love this will be enough to sate her. If anything is.

“I’m fine,” Rei tells him. She licks her lips, swallows. “Go harder.”

#jadeite x mars #mars x jadeite #rei x jadeite #jadeite x rei #hino rei #jadeite #sailor moon fanfiction

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oxiosa · 4 years ago

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I finally found the post with the prompts lmao If you're still doing these, what about #1? :3

1. You know, you always look so much better when I mark you up.

Luciano shoves Martín inside the toilet cubicle and slams the door shut in his wake. It is a small crowded space, but it suits them just fine – they don’t need a lot of room anyways, not with the way they are so tangled together that there is barely any space between them.

Luciano pushes Martín against the wall, catches him before he trips with the toilet. He corners him, plasters their chests together and pushes his knee between Martín’s leg. Martín groans into his mouth, humps against his hips as Luciano rocks back into him all the while they kiss insistently.

They don’t really have a lot of time for this, hence their urgency. They have a meeting in a quarter hour - they shouldn’t be doing this to begin with, but Martín had teased him over lunch, and Luciano had teased him back and slid a hand over his thigh under the table, and Martín had given Luciano a slow hungry smile and bedroom eyes, and well. Luciano was not one to turn down such an invitation. Not from Martín, at least.

Luciano pulls Martín’s tie undone, works his shirt open with nimble fingers to expose at least half of Martín’s heaving chest. He lets go of Martín’s mouth and instead pushes his face down, buries his nose into the overheated smooth naked skin and kisses and licks at it. He closes his mouth around every available inch, leaves behind an angry red trail as he suck and nibbles at him. Martín is not made of glass, but it takes a fairly little amount of teasing to break his skin into the most wonderful red. Luciano can already see some dark spots already standing out from the rest of the blushed skin, spots he knows will turn of a beautiful purple only in a matter of time.

Luciano sucks at his collarbone, follows the strong bone all the way to the base of Martín’s neck. He buries his neck there, kisses and teases at an area he knows to be very sensitive for Martín.

“Careful,” Martín warns in a low huff. “You know the rules.”

Luciano does, and reluctantly goes back to licking and mouthing at Martín’s chest.

No hickies where anyone can see, that is the one condition Martín has. Luciano might like a limit as much as the next guy, but he guesses he has little to complain about; the rest of Martín’s body is his to do as he pleases. And so he does.

He marks every inch of skin, goes down on Martín’s chest and trails every dip and crest on his torso. Martín buries his hands on his hair, but doesn’t push nor pull, lets him have his way as the muscles under Luciano’s lips and tongue tense and stretch with every shallow breath he takes. He catches one of Martín’s nipples, circles it with his thumb over and over again, until Martín has had enough of him; he closes his fist into Luciano’s hair and pulls Luciano’s face up to crush their mouths together. He pulls Luciano’s shirt out of his pants and undoes all the buttons with clumsy hands, reluctant to let go of Luciano’s lips. He does the same with his own shirt, undoes the rest of the buttons before opening both their pants and pulling their erections out.

They take each other in their hand, and fuck into their fists panting into each other’s mouth. They manage to keep their moans and sighs low, that is until they come. Martín grunts and spills into Luciano’s hand, and Luciano follows close behind throwing his head back with a groan.

Martín sags back into the wall, and Luciano has enough presence on mind to rest his weight by placing his hand on the wall, avoiding crushing Martín and making a further mess than the one they already made. Once his hearts has stopped drumming in his ears, he stands back and spares a glance in Martín’s direction.

Martín makes a pretty sight, a spent mess; his wet softening cock still in hand, his shirt open and his naked heaving chest completely bruised, painted with their combined come. It makes something hot and primal stir inside Luciano - posed prideful Martín, limp and soft and undone. That Luciano gets to see this – that he is the reason of it – makes Luciano want to press back into him, kiss him and rock into him until they both reach their climax again.

That will have to wait. They have a meeting to attend to, after all.

Moving heavily, Luciano takes some toilet paper and cleans his hand and cock. He passes some more to Martín, who accepts with a nod and a quiet “Thanks”.

“I go first?” Luciano asks.

Martín nods as he cleans himself.

“Sure, go ahead,” he answers. “I’ll be right behind you.”

They arrange their clothes back in place, share one last kiss, and Luciano is out of the toilet. He makes sure to thoughtfully clean his hands and check his reflection before he is off. In order to maintain some semblance and professionalism, Luciano carries out his usual routine despite running short of time. He gets himself some coffee and some candy, and then makes his way to the meeting room without hurry. By the time he arrives, everyone is already waiting for him, Martín included.

Martín is the first to stand and speak up, frowning and waving his hands around with a loud firm voice. Martín has always cut a rather imposing figure, has always been good at public speaking. However, Luciano cannot help to notice with some surprise no one in the room seems to be paying him much attention.

Luciano looks around with a wary eyes – sure, they had never been much of a responsible bunch, but even Manuel isn’t taking down his usual notes. Luciano catches Daniel hiding a smile behind his hand while Miguel doesn’t even bother to hide his shit-eating grin as he elbows Francisco. María is whispering into Catalina’s ear with a malevolent glint in her eyes, and Julio is typing into his phone with an evil maniatic smile.

Curiously enough, Luciano also catches a few amused discreet glances in his direction.

It takes him a moment of confusion to understand why.

There is one bright red spot peaking from the collar of Martín’s shirt. There is little mistaking what it is, nor that it is recent. Martín doesn’t seem to have noticed, but everyone else in the room definitely has. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who exactly put that mark on Martín’s skin, Luciano thinks as self-awareness hits him.

When Martín sits down and Sebastián takes over with his part of the presentation, Luciano takes his phone out.

You know, he writes, tries to hold back a smile, you always look so much better when I mark you up.

He waits, watches with fixed attention until Martín pulls his phone out and checks the little bright screen. His green eyes go wide and his head snaps up in Luciano’s direction to give him a dismayed expression. His cheeks turn the same shade of the mark on his neck. He frowns, looks down and furiously types back.

You haven't.

I have, Luciano answers. Sorry :D

Martín looks up and glares daggers at him.

Consider your hicky rights officially revoked, is the answer he gets.

Luciano saw that one coming.

Fair enough, Luciano accepts his punishment magnanimously.

“Do you two need a minute? Or would you rather take your second round outside?”

Sebastián has interrupted his presentation and is frowning both at Martín and Luciano. Everyone in the room snickers – Luciano himself can’t help the smile spreading across his face as Martín frowns at Sebastián.

“Carry on,” Martín grumbles as he grumpily drops his phone on the table.

Sebastián scoffs at him, but does continue where he left, not without giving the two of them one last warning glance as if he was dealing with children instead of grown ass men.

Luciano catches Martín glaring at him from across the table. He takes a sip of his coffee, hides his smile behind the brim of his tiny Styrofoam cup. He won’t hear the end of this once they are alone, but for now, he will enjoy as Martín wears the mark of his lips for everyone to see.

#of course it had to be Lu #silly boys getting into silly shenanigans #only one request more to go ufff #brarg #myfics

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abraxos-is-toothless · 5 years ago

Note

Congrats on 300! That's really amazing! Well done! Not surprised though, because your writing is super amazing! I especially love your undercover AU for ToG! My prompt is: "Really? Are you sure?" for Rowaelin, or alternatively another ToG ship, please?

I went with Rowaelin because, I’m trash for them. I’ve accepted that. Also thank you so, so much, I’m glad you like it. I really hope I did this prompt justice for you <3 Using my Undercover taglist here too.

---------

Rowan’s day had been rough, to say the least. It was also a Monday so, it was just a given, really.

First off, Aelin had been sick for, well, he didn’t know how many mornings in a row it was now, he’d lost count. He hated not being able to help her when she was sick; not knowing what to do, but she kept telling him she was fine. Clearly she wasn’t fine or he wouldn’t be holding her hair back every morning. Aelin had promised him today before he’d left for work that she’d get it checked out, just to be sure. He had wanted to stay home, to go with her, to be there for her just in case it was something bad. His wonderful wife had just told him he was an overbearing buzzard and ‘to got the fuck to work’. There was no arguing with her, well he could try but, there would be no winning. And so he had relented, giving her a quick kiss to the forehead and telling her he loved her and dashing out the door before he was late.

And then he’d gotten to work.

He and Lorcan owned a Private Investigator firm, mainly specialising in missing persons cases. They usually found odd trails that the police couldn’t and if it was something solid, they passed on the information. Sometimes they were lucky and other times, not so much. Fenrys and Connall were in the building when he walked in and Rowan couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He had a new assistant, she was slim, tall, blonde and pretty he guessed. To be quite honest, ever since Aelin had walked into his life, other women weren’t even noticeable. He only saw her, only ever thought of her. Every time he hired someone new, the twins were over at the firm in an instant, fighting to win them over. Unless it was one of the times Rowan’s assistant was a male, then it was an easy win for Connall.

“Can I help you two imbeciles, or are you just here to fawn over the latest recruit. If that’s the case, which I know it is, then please leave. Or, better yet, go up a floor and bother Lorcan.”

Fenrys simply laughed and shook his head, his hair swinging with the motion from where he’d tied it back, “But the ladies love me Ro, I mean, what’s not to love?”

Connall snorted, and then smirked when his brother turned to glare at him. “I’m the better looking twin Fen, we all know it.”

He was not about to deal with a fucking pissing match today. He sighed, deciding to get rid of them as quickly as possible, hoping it would give him the peace and quiet he needed to actually work. “Connall, Lorcan actually has someone new up there with him too.”

“Ooo, really?” The smug bastard perked up at that and Fenrys looked at him with suspicion, most likely knowing where this was going. “Yeah. Dark haired, dark eyes, glasses and he’s shorter than you. Very much your type. You didn’t see him the other week because he hides behind the filing cabinets when you come in, blushing like a schoolgirl.”

As suspected, Con moved like lightning, not even bothering to wait for an elevator and taking the stairs. He made a beeline for his office, pushing the door open as fast as he could, but just as he was closing it, a foot slipped into the little gap and he wanted nothing more than to murder Fenrys just then.

“Come on Rowan, you just set my brother up, you could at least help me out too. I thought I was your favourite?” He shoved himself through the door, walking over to sit in front of Rowan’s desk and kicking his feet up. Not that it lasted, especially when he was pushed out of the chair and onto the floor. Rowan laughed as the golden haired man rubbed his ass, staring up at him with a pout.

“You’ll do well to remember, boyo, that without me, you’d have never pushed yourself to even talk to a girl. Also my new assistant is very much off of the market.”

He sat down in his newly vacated chair and pulled out his laptop. His newest case was a woman who’d come in about two weeks ago, saying her husband had been kidnapped. She was in hysterics as she’d told him the story, saying the police wouldn’t help, and so Rowan had said he’d do what he could. He went over everything the woman had given him and then followed on from there. Phone numbers, addresses and different picture sightings. Turned out that her husband had not in fact been kidnapped but had run off with another, much younger woman. He’d known for a few days now and was currently trying to figure out how to tell his client in the easiest way possible.

Rowan was broken from his thoughts when a certain pest spoke from across the room. For fucks sake, why hadn’t he left yet?

“How’s my best bud doing Rowan?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, now leave.”

“Har har. Ace knows I’d choose her over you, she’s so much more fun, hence why we’re besties.”

Rowan flipped him off, still not looking up from his laptop screen as he replied, “Aelin is sick.”

He flinched when Fen shouted, gripping onto the side of his desk from the sudden outburst. “What do you mean she’s sick? She’s never sick!”

“Keep your fucking voice down, fucking Christ. She keeps throwing up in the mornings but I keep getting told that she’s ‘fine’. Clearly, she is not fine.”

“Oh. Oh.” Rowan watched his face turn from worried confusion into some sedated happy smile. What the fuck did he mean ‘oh’?

“What do you mean ‘Oh’? I have no idea what’s wrong with her so you possibly can’t, and stop smiling. Aelin’s sickness is not something to smile about.”

His idiot friend tipped his head back and laughed, a deep rumbling laugh and Rowan wanted nothing more than to throttle him. When he finally stopped and met Rowan’s gaze again, he seemed to realise that Rowan still hadn’t understood what was so funny. “Wait. You really don’t get it do you? How can you-”

The sound of Rowan’s phone ringing cut the man off and he was pissed off at the interruption, until he saw that it was Aelin calling him. His wife never called when he was at work, not unless he’d asked her to when he had a few minutes spare. He was pressing the answer button within seconds, heart beating wildly in his chest. “Aelin sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, I just need you to come home.”

If nothing was wrong then why did she need him to come back? It had only been a few hours since he’d left the house.

“Alright, I’m coming. Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“Yes Buzzard, I promise. I’ll see you soon.”

He’d packed up as fast as he could, telling Fenrys that they’d talk later and to go and check that his twin wasn’t fucking the newbie in one of the bathrooms.

That was how he’d ended up here, bursting through the door of their newly purchased home. It was big of course, Aelin would have nothing less, but the interior was simple and modern. Quite tame for his very extravagant wife.

“Aelin, baby, I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!”

He ran through the halls, not even taking his shoes off which he would most certainly get reprimanded for later, and spotted his wife sitting at the bar eating a plate of pickles with a dip that looked like...peanut butter?

“You’re sick, why on earth are you eating that? Let’s get you back to bed.” His wife groaned and rolled her eyes, standing from her stool to walk over and grab a brown paper bag from the counter. She took slow steps towards him while nibbling on her lower lip, looking up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“I have a present for you.” Rowan stared at the brown bag in confusion, eyebrows furrowed as he tentatively took it from her hands. He didn’t open it yet, though he desperately wanted to.

“You made me come home because you wanted to give me a present? Couldn’t this have waited until later.” She shook her head, a giddy expression on her face.

“No, it couldn’t. Now come on, open it.”

He gave an exasperated sigh, almost forgetting he’d married a woman who had a talent for theatrics. When he opened the bag, it had some sort of fabric inside of it, which confused him even more. Reaching in, he pulled it out carefully, before dropping the bag and unfolding it. It was a baby vest and on it were the words ‘World’s Greatest Daddy’ with a sort of blurry black and white image printed onto the fabric just below. Holy fucking gods.

“Fireheart...really? Are you sure?” When he looked back at her, her eyes were lined with silver, and she nodded at him. He let out a shocked laugh before looking at the picture on the vest more closely. Now that he was concentrating, he could see the outline of a tiny foot and then a tiny head. No not just-

“Is that two heads? Two babies. We’re having twins?” Aelin let the tears flow freely now and nodded again and he laughed, scooping her up in his arms and spinning, relishing the sound of her delighted giggles. When Rowan set her back onto her feet, he dropped to his knees, leaving his face directly in line with her stomach. Lifting her top and leaning forward, he left a few gentle kisses to the skin before pressing his forehead there and whispering, “Hi babies, I’m your daddy. I want you to know that your mommy and I love you very much and that you are the most precious things in the world. I can’t wait to meet you, little ones.”

Aelin’s fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck and tugged lightly until he tilted to look up at her and realisation dawned on him then. “This is why you’ve been throwing up in the mornings.”

“Yes genius, I thought you’d have figured it out by now. I had that scan about two weeks ago, secretly hoping that you wouldn’t figure it out because I was waiting for the vest to be printed. Luckily I didn’t marry you for your brains.”

He couldn’t stop smiling, it was making his cheeks hurt but fuck did it feel good. He took hold of his wife’s wrist, bringing her hand forward to kiss her palm and sighing contentedly.

“I love you, Fireheart, to whatever end.”

“To whatever end, Buzzard.”

--------

I really hoped you liked it and honestly, I sort of like this AU I’ve created, so feel free to send some other prompts set in this universe if you like!

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @fancyclodpaintercookie @empress-sei @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @tswaney17 @queen-of-glass @thesirenwashere @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm @http-itsrebecca @eatmysandwiches @poisonous00 @flowersinvegas @julemmaes @mu-si-ca-l @spyofthenightcourt @sis-it-dont-add-up @mad-madeline-ace @df3ndyr @jesstargaryenqueen @notyournymphetish

#tog #throne of glass #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #aelin x rowan #aelin and rowan #fenrys moonbeam #connall #au #tog fic #my writing #my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #haz writes

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hypmic-writings · 5 years ago

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This might sound weird but what kind of snacks do you think the boys would be? You can pick any division or if you can all of them.

I put way too much time into research for this. I’m choosing all Japanese snacks, so I’ll put small descriptions and pics for each! Let me know if you vehemently agree or disagree. I don’t have too much knowledge about every Japanese snack, so go easy on me please! Hope this was kind of what you wanted~

Ichiro: Kakigori - shaved ice dessert; I feel like Ichiro has a sweet tooth and would like to go to cafes with his brothers in the summer to eat this

Jiro: Red Bean Daifuku - Sweet rice cakes with red bean filling; I feel like Jiro would like the texture and the fact that it’s sweet but not overbearing. Also, that you can make it at home!

Saburo: Pocky - Chocolate covered biscuits; Saburo is still a kid and he would never admit to his brothers but he always sneaks Pocky. He would probably nibble on it when he’s tense or nervous

Samatoki: Nikuman - steamed pork buns; It’s canon that Samatoki likes pork buns (because they remind him of happy times with his friends) so I can definitely see him getting some whenever he wants a snack

Juto: Senbai - Rice Crackers; they’re simple, portable, and I can 100% imagine Juto having a bag of these at his desk and refusing to share with anyone

Riou: Taiyaki - fish-shaped cake; Riou would love how cute these little cakes are, and the fact that they come in multiple fillings means you can have different tastes with the same treat!

Ramuda: Konpeito (and lollipops, of course) - Sugar candy; Ramuda would like how colorful these are, and how easy/clean they area to eat. We already know he likes lollipops, so I can imagine him enjoying sucking on konpeito pieces as well.

Gentaro: Melon Pan - Sweet Bread; I can imagine Gentaro enjoying this during his writing breaks. Especially if he’s writing something sad, I can see him liking the crunchy exterior and the warm, soft interior to cheer himself up a bit.

Dice: Dango - Mochi Dumplings; Street food that would be right up Dice’s alley since they’re pretty cheap, filling, and they’re easily portable!

Jakurai: Castella - Sponge Cake; I can imagine Jakurai liking to eat this cake with his morning coffee, and since he has a bit of a sweet tooth, snacking on it during the day as well since it’s light and gives him the sweet taste without being too unhealthy

Hifumi: Anmitsu - Fruit in Jelly; It’s colorful, fruity, and unique...just like Hifumi! I can imagine him liking all of the different ingredients, eating each of them separately despite being yelled at to mix it all together by Doppo

Doppo: Imagawayaki - Stuffed Pancake; I think Doppo would like the fact that this snack has a softer texture, and also really like the sweet filling. I’m imagining him buying one on the way to work and looking forward to eating it all day.

Kuko: Hi-Chew/Kasugai - Gummy Candy; Is it canon that he chews gum? He seems like the type to always be chewing on something since he’s always in ‘go mode’. That’s why I think hi-chews and gummy candies would be great for him!

Jyushi: Popin Cookin - DIY Candy Kits; I’m sorry but you can’t tell me that Jyushi doesn’t love making tiny little candies from a kit and then gets sad once there’s no more left before begging Hitoya to please go get him more.

Hitoya: Doryaki - Red Bean Pancake; Wanna get meta? Hitoya would like these because they’re a bit sweet and easy to eat whenever he’s in between court cases. The pancake patties are also made from castella...so he would think it’s like he’s one-upping Jakurai even in the snack department

Sasara: Karinto - Fried Dough with Brown Sugar; I feel like Sasara would also like sweet things, and that karinto would be his go-to midnight snack. He wouldn’t eat it too often since it’s deep-fried but he likes it as a way to treat himself.

Rosho: Arare - Rice Crackers with Soy Sauce (and seaweed); Similar to Juto, these are easy to eat throughout the day so I can imagine Rosho keeping some at his desk and eating it in between classes. I can see him liking the savory flavor rather than anything too sweet

Rei: Wasabi Peas - ...wasabi peas...; It’s spicy, it’s easy to eat, and he likes the way it burns on his tongue to make him feel literally anything.

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #snacks #imagines #hypmic imagines #ichiro #jiro #saburo #samatoki #juto #riou #ramuda #gentaro #dice #jakurai #hifumi #doppo #kuko #jyushi #hitoya #sasara #rosho #rei

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stillchaoticlogic · 5 years ago

Text

Stumbling: Chapter 4

Pairing: Raihan X Reader X Leon

Your life hadn’t gone exactly as you planned…

Which is why when an old rival walks into the coffee shop you work at he gives you an offer you just can’t refuse. Finally, a chance at the League. Suddenly you are thrust into the spot light and a world you thought you had left behind. Dreams aren’t always what they are cracked up to be though, especially when you find yourself the tangled up with the champion and a certain gym leader.

Has all your dreams come true?

Or is this your worst nightmare?

Read the First Chapter Here!

Read the Second Chapter Here!

Read the Third Chapter Here!

**Masterlist Coming Soon!**

The Journey Begins!

The next morning you end up running around Motostoke attempting to get everything you need. The last of your savings is spent on a Flash phone and luckily your able to get the Pokedex on there along with a map of the region and all your trainer and Pokemon information. You then head to the center and stock up on medical equipment and pokeballs before going to the department store and getting a set of camping gear.

“How?” you ask as you gaze down at your pack which is already bursting at the seams.

“That’s a little full…” you yelp not expecting anyone to be standing behind you.

You whip around and are met with sight of Sonia and Nessa.

“Oh hey!” you exclaim as you smile at the duo.

“Getting ready to head out?” asks Nessa with a small smile.

“Yeah… I had to stock up on some things before I left but this seems excessive…”

“I’ll help you sort through your pack! But first, how do you feel about lunch to catch up?”

“That would be great but….”

“It’s on me! That equipment is expensive!”

“No! Sonia I can’t let you do that!”

“It’s okay! I want to catch up! You can just get mine next time OR after you take Leon for all he’s worth. That prize money is nothing to shake a stick at!”

“Alright deal…”

“Well if she wasn’t… I was… I heard you took care of some asshole pokemon abuser yesterday and that deserves a free lunch at the least!” says Nessa.

“Oh! Yeah… I guess the guys told you about that?”

“Nope! You’re all over the news and social media. Everyone is talking about the gym challenger who saved a Jangmo-o!”

“What? Really? Why?”

They laugh before each wrapping an arm through one of yours.

“Because your badass babe!” exclaims Nessa.

“Yeah! All the leaders and media outlets now have their eyes on you! You’re going to dominate this competition!” Sonia interjects.

Despite not having seen Sonia in years, time just simply got away from the two of you, and having never met Nessa before, the three of you sit down like old friends at the local cafe.

“So you’re going to have to tell me what happened…” Sonia starts after you all get your food.

“With what?”

“All of this! You just disappeared! And now out of the blue Leon is endorsing you in the League! What happened?!”

“Well… I couldn’t find a sponsor…”

“That makes no sense… you were one of the best!”

“That’s what Leon said… no one was looking for what I had to offer I guess. I also got some bullshit reasoning too. I wasn’t pretty, cute, sweet or sexy enough. I was too smart… I didn’t have the right look… You name it, they said it… I tried for several years, the last one when I was eighteen… At that point I had someone tell me I was too old…”

“Seriously?” huffs out Nessa in anger.

“Yep...So I moved to a small town that I could afford rent in and got a job at a cafe. That’s where Leon found me. He got lost and ended up at the cafe to get out of a storm. A week later I had a letter of endorsement.”

“I’m glad you’re finally getting your chance.”

“Thanks… I just hope he didn’t put his faith in me for no reason.”

“Oh stop that! You’re amazing. You’ve always been amazing. You’re going to kill this competition,” Sonia exclaims as she looks you in the eyes.

“Thanks Sonia…”

“Of course! Besides at least you have a direction… I feel like a magikarp out of water sometimes…”

“Aren’t you working with your grandma?”

“Yeah… but I’m not sure if it’s what I want…”

“Why is that?”

“It’s overwhelming sometimes… plus that’s a pretty big pair of shoes to fill…”

“Ehh… you’re doing great! You’re just too hard on yourself,” argues Nessa.

“She does great work, she just gets stressed out sometimes, mostly for no reason…”

“Oh hush!” Sonia exclaims in embarrassment at her friends praise.

The three of you end up chatting for the next hour before you all say your goodbyes.

“I can’t wait to see you at my gym! Go crush Milo for me girl!” Nessa yells as they watch you head down the steps into the Wild Area.

“Oh don’t worry! He’s mine!” you yell back with a laugh. The lunch having significantly lifted your spirits and they helped you go through your pack, making it much lighter than before.

“Oh boy…” you mutter as you gaze around the vast area before you. With a sigh you head off into the wild in search of your first new team member.

“Now… If I was a Bounsweet...where would I be hiding?” You gaze around the field before heading into the tall grass. You had never seen so many different types of pokemon in one place. Serenity took over most of the battling and after many run ins with several different types of pokemon that aren’t the one you’re looking for you find a...combee?”

You gaze in abject excitement at the honey bee pokemon with the little red dot. “A female combee…” you mutter as you approach her. She continues to buzz around a flower and you know that after the beating that Serenity has taken today you couldn’t risk sending her out. Gazing down at the only other pokemon you currently have with you, you pull it from your belt.

“Davine!” you call as she pops out and looks up at you, “I have a favor to ask of you…”

Her Amber eyes are large and full of uncertainty, “Can you help me catch that combee?”

She gazes over at the pokemon idly hovering over a flower before she hesitantly nods.

“Alright! Can you use headbutt on her?”

Nodding the tiny dragon approaches the combee, who doesn’t look perturbed in the least, in fact she looked more interested than anything. Gliding over she buzzes around Davine’s head and it’s almost amusing when Davine panics and just boops her on the head instead of using headbutt. The combee blinks in surprise before it almost looks as if she laughs before gently booping Davine back. The dragon flinches back but opens her eyes slowly as the bee just buzzes around her laughing as if she wants to play.

“Whelp…this is my life now…” you say in exasperation as you pull a pokeball out of your pack and throw it at the combee. It shakes a few times before the red dot turns green and you pick it up from the ground. Letting the tiny bee out she blinks up at you in slight confusion before happily buzzing around your head.

“Yeah… You’re going to be a great addition to the team,” you say with a laugh as the bee lands on your head.

“We’re going to have to work on your confidence… but good job!” you say as you hand Davine a berry to eat. She gazes up at you in confused awe before hesitantly taking the treat from you. Holding up another berry you hold it while the bee, who has gotten quite comfortable on your head, nibbles on the berry. Calling out Serenity you hand her a berry as well and introduce her to the newest member of your team.

“This is...hmm… we’re going to have to figure out a name for you…” you say indicating the tiny bee before you. She just buzzes happily around investigating her new friends. The three seem to have interesting personalities, but you think they will get along. Serenity is pretty calm, if not stubborn, whereas Davine is timid, but you have a feeling that there is so much more to her. Jangmo-o are proud by nature and you can’t wait to bring her confidence in herself back. The newest member of your party, your little combee, is cheerful but very curious. You have a feeling she’s going to get herself into a lot of trouble.

The sun is setting on the wild area when you find a little alcove of rocks away from the wild pokemon roaming as well shelter from the wind. Glaring down at your tent you heave a sigh and pull out the instructions.

“I should have been trying to figure this out an hour ago… I’m going to lose light!” you grumble as you begin struggling with the tent.

“Hold this,” you say as you hand Serenity one of the poles for the tent, “I thought they said it was a pop up!”

“Need some help?” questions a voice from behind you. “Ouch! Hey!”

You let out a scream of surprise as you whip around to face the dragon gym leader now doubled over in pain. Davine looking somewhere between terrified and remorseful after her surprise assault on him.

You can’t hold it in and start to laugh, “Are you okay?” you ask between fits of laughter.

“Are you really laughing at me after your pokemon just attacked me?!” he exclaims, but the smile on his face says he isn’t mad.

“You scared her! And me! You deserve what you get!” you exclaim as you walk over to Davine and pick her up. You press her into your chest and gently run your fingers over her head to soothe her.

“Tell her you're okay, she’s upset that she hurt you,” you say indicating the baby dragon in your arms.

He just smiles down at her, “You didn’t hurt me, I’ve gotten accidently hit by my friends way too many times for that to even leave a scratch! I know you didn’t mean it.” He takes her gently from your arms and holds her to his chest. He begins to scratch her under her chin and before you know it, she has relaxed against him.

“Is that a Drager Tamer trick?” you ask as you regard the two.

“I can’t reveal all my secrets but yeah that’s one of them. Think of dragons like giant cats.”

“Huh… good to know… How did you find me by the way?”

“Nessa said that she saw you off into the wild area, and I decided I wanted to head to the Lake of Outrage to pick up a new partner. Then I decided to see if I could find you...besides I’m not Leon you know? I know how to find my way around.”

You just laugh at his explanation, “So does that mean you know how to set up a tent?”

“So you think you’re going to beat me and you can’t even set up a tent?” he teases.

“Beating you and setting up a tent are two different life skills, do not mock me!”

He laughs at your explanation before he puts Davine down and walks over to you.

“Come on, I’m teaching you how to put up a tent, but you cook dinner alright?”

“Demanding aren’t we?”

“Oh come on! If you cook for me, I get to rub it in Leon’s face that you did! Besides I bet you’re amazing,” he says with a wink.

“Fine… teach me how to set up the tent and I’ll cook you dinner.”

Raihan walks over to the tent, putting a couple of poles in the corresponding pockets and then just pulls. The tent springs up practically on it’s own and you can only sit and stare with an open mouth.

“That was so easy…”

“Yep…” he says with a shit eating grin.

You just huff before you grab the pot out of your bag and set it on the makeshift fire pit you’ve already got set up. He just laughs at your annoyance before he calls his team out consisting of Flygon, Goodra and Duraludon.

“Don’t forget my boys okay?” he says as he walks over to you and bumping into your side as you sort through all your ingredients. Holding up a pack of sausage, “How do you like spicy food?”

“Love it!” he says with a smile.

You just nod as you watch Davine scurry over to you and hide near you, she’s watching the dragon’s carefully.

“Why don’t you go say ‘hi?’” you ask gazing down at the tiny dragon.

She clinks her scales together nervously as she regards them.

“Okay, that’s fine… you can when you are ready.”

She ends up staying glued to your side while you work, whereas combee and Serenity walked up to Goodra and they seemed to be fast friends.

“So how did today go? I see you caught a combee?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t your conventional catch, but I think she’ll make a great addition.”

“So you want a Vespiquen?”

“She’ll be super helpful against Milo since I may or may not be able to find a fire type.”

“Vulpix are pretty common around here…”

“I’ve always wanted a ninetails! They are so majestic!” you say with a laugh.

“You would look good with one too. I can just see you posing for some magazine, Ninetails looking all haughty!”

You laugh as you think about being in a magazine, “Yeah...we’ll see… I’m trying to find a bounsweet so I can start training her up to take on Nessa.”

“Thought about Kabu yet? He’s tough when you’re first getting started.”

“I’ll figure something out…”

“Yeah you will!”

You raise your brow as you watch Davine walk towards the other pokemon. Goodra notices her first and approaches slowly, obviously happy she wanted to join in. He cooed at her softly and slowly she joins the others.

“She’ll be okay…” he says noticing the way you watched the interaction.

You turn and gaze at him, “I know… I just can’t help but worry…” you mutter as you add the chopped ingredients and put the rice on to cook.

“Dragon’s are resilient, she’s going to bounce back, all she needs is you, princess,” he says as he winks at you.

“Are we really back to the princess stuff?” you ask as you try to hide your smile.

He shrugs, “What’s so wrong with wanting to call you princess? After all, there’s going to come a time when you are.”

“When I’m what?”

“My princess,” he says with a lazy grin.

You roll your eyes and throw a berry at him, “Chop that up for me will you, Romeo?”

“See you already have a pet name for me too! It’s like we’re meant to be!”

He laughs as you throw another berry at him, “That one tooo!”

“Alright! Alright! So violent! Looks like you like things a little rough… I-”

“Raihan!” you interrupt him and he just bursts out laughing, but helps you chop up the berries anyway.

“I thought you were going to make me dinner… Here I am helping you…”

“You want to eat tonight or not? Then chop the vegetables!” you ask as you add the sausage into pot and start stirring it.

“Yes Ma’am! I love it when you take charge,” he growls out.

You huff, but take the berries that’s he’s chopped and endeavor to hide your blush as you add them to the pot.

You glance up at him and he’s watching you with a lazy smile, “Hey…” he muttered suddenly.

“Yes?” you ask softly.

“You made it through your first day.”

You smile at the thought, “I did…”

“Come on Princess… Let’s eat,” he says as he grabs plates and bowls out of his own pack and helps you divy up the food for the pokemon as well as yourselves.

“Damn this might be the best curry I’ve ever had!” he exclaims as he takes his first bite.

“You’re exaggerating it’s not that great!”

“What are you talking about? This is the best!”

You laugh quietly and thank him as you dig in yourself. You have to admit it’s really good and your pokemon seem to be enjoying it as well. You notice that Davine seems to be sticking pretty close to Goodra as the dragon chatters to it happily.

“So you’re looking for a Bounsweet?”

“Yeah! I spent all day today looking for one, but had no luck…”

“They are usually in the Rolling Fields, check there tomorrow and I’m sure you’ll find one! Maybe even a vulpix!.”

“Thanks Raihan…”

“Yeah no problem...let me know if you need help finding another type-”

“No- I mean… thank you for that as well, but I mean, thank you for being here tonight. I can hardly believe I’m here, but it’s nice to not be alone out here.”

He chuckles, “No problem… do you want me to camp out here with you tonight? I can sleep out here if you don’t feel comfortable sharing the tent.”

“I don’t want to hold you up…”

“It’ll be fun! Like when I was on my journey, except now I get to play the hero if something happens.”

You shake your head and laugh at him, “thanks, and you can sleep in the tent if you want, it’s cold out here and I trust you.”

“Whatever you say princess…” he says with a smile.

Notes:

I hope you all like this chapter! I chose the nickname @narees17 entered! I thought it fit so well! But thank you for everyone who submitted! Now we need to name the combee! Tell me your thoughts! Also if you would like to be tagged send me an ask! I love hearing from you all!

Taglist: @ichigokage

#champion leon #leon x reader #Leon x Reader X Raihan #pokemon leon x reader #pokemon leon #raihan x reader #pokemon raihan #pokemon raihan x reader #gym leader raihan #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #pokemon imagines #pokemon fanfiction

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jowritesthingss · 4 years ago

Text

Excuse Me Sir This Is My Emotional Support Eldritch Being

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Pairing(s): n/a

Rating: Teen (for swearing)

Content Warning(s): rabbits, food/drink, mild(ish) swearing, not!Sasha, eldritch beings, spoilers through early s3-ish

Length: 2,190 words

Brief Summary: The archival team adopts a rabbit. (Part one of the Emotional Support Eldritch AU!)

AO3 link in reblogs bc Tumblr is a biatch!

“What is it?”

Jon levels a suspicious glare down at the fluffy blob comfortably stretched out in the middle of the overstuffed break room couch.

Tim blinks owlishly at him from behind his mug of tea. “A...rabbit?”

“Yes, but are you sure it’s a rabbit?” Jon asks insistently. “Not a—a spirit, or...an animated doll, or a clown in disguise or something?”

Sighing, Tim sets his tea down on the counter. “Look, I get the whole ‘suspicious of us being murderers’ thing—no I don’t, actually, but that’s beside the point—it. is. a rabbit.” For a good measure, he walks over to sit on one side of the rabbit, reaching a hand out to the little guy’s fluffy head. If a rabbit could smile, he suspects this one would be doing so as it leans up into his hand.

“No fleas or ticks...or worms, so it’s not some Jane Prentiss Pet Sematary crossover, I promise—” Tim rolls his eyes, “—the veterinarian confirmed as much when I brought the poor thing in. Out of the mud and the rain of the gutter,” he adds, not even attempting to hide the guilt-trip. He wishes Martin were here, with his ridiculously effective puppy-dog eyes.

Tim knows this is Jon he’s talking to, but surely even he can’t be that cold-hearted. He rather thinks that Jon will enjoy not being alone anymore down here during all his late nights. If he’d let himself, surely Jon would enjoy having company in the form of a teeny tiny creature that can’t and won’t harm him—which, uh, certainly is not why he’s lying about his current flat not permitting pets, no siree.

“...Fine. Whatever.” Jon points an accusing finger at him. “But we’re not keeping it,” he stresses. “The moment you find it a different home, it goes. The moment.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Tim chirps, although as he begins a staring contest with the rabbit’s curious red eyes, he has no intention of actually doing as Jon says.

Martin chooses this moment to walk through the door. His eyes light up. “Aw, is that a rabbit?”

“No, this does not mean you’re allowed to bring in more strays,” Jon snaps.

The light in Martin’s eyes fades. “Okay,” he says mournfully as he crouches to pet the rabbit, sulking.

“So what should we name him?” Tim asks Jon when the Head Archivist comes into the break room the next morning.

“Oh—my—” Jon startles where he stands by the counter, attempting to make himself some toast with the Archive’s horrible fifteen-year-old toaster—toast that now splatters across the floor. Somehow in his sleep-deprived stupor he must’ve missed Tim sitting on the couch with a white rabbit on his head. He never seems to really notice Tim, but at this point it’s fine enough; Tim has accepted that the guy has impossibly poor taste.

The rabbit clambers down from Tim’s shoulders, jumping off of the couch and padding over to investigate the new human(?) and the mess he made.

“How about Thumper?” Tim puzzles aloud, stretching leisurely and acting as if he doesn’t notice Jon frantically scrubbing up raspberry jam and trying to avoid the rabbit’s investigative snuffles all in one. “No, no...that’s too cliché.”

“I really don’t see the point in naming it when it shouldn’t be here more than a few weeks,” Jon comments, shooing the animal in question away before it can try to lick up any jam.

“Maybe Joe?” Tim continues loudly, as if he hadn’t heard the other. When the rabbit ambles back over to him, he scoops them up, pressing their noses together. “Ligma?” He shakes his head at the rabbit. “No, no. We need to have more sophistication as we go about this.”

“You could do with applying that sophistication to your work,” comes the grumbled retort.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Jon abruptly turns to burn another piece of bread in the toaster.

“How about Marshmallow?”

“What on Earth—” Jon shrieks, jumping in his desk chair, and a sheaf of papers is sent flying around the office.

“The rabbit. Should we call him ‘Marshmallow’?” Tim smiles as innocently as he can manage, standing out in the hall with his head peeping into his boss’ office. “Marshie for short?”

“I am in the middle of a statement!” Jon sputters. “Get out!”

“Okay, okay....” Tim fluidly shrugs his shoulders. “What about ‘Bob’?”

“Out!”

But Tim continues to pop into Jon’s office unannounced throughout the day, tossing out name suggestions. He even manages to rope Martin into doing it too, and notes with savage delight that between the two of them and his work, Jon doesn’t get much more than a moment to wallow rest for the remainder of the day.

Between the two of them Tim and Martin manage to compile a surprisingly long list of names:

Snowball,

Posy (Martin is partial to this one because he thinks it’s cute),

Bungen Leitner,

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt (“is that too American of a reference for a fanfic taking place in the UK?” “what?” “what?”),

the Bunholding,

Michael (Jon is especially averse to that one for some reason),

Cottonball,

Fluffy Bastard (Tim’s own favorite),

Bugs Bunny,

Eldritch Horror (Tim tosses that one in as a joke; no way the rabbit that eats his own shit is some kind of otherworldly being),

Big Bungus (“it’s a play off Big Chungus!” “d’you seriously think anyone else here even knows what memes are”), and

the Vampiric Count Sir Maximillianus-Who-Is-Also-A-Werebun

(Despite badgering Sasha multiple times in an attempt to get her thoughts on the matter, the only name she offers up is “Dinner”, which makes Martin cry, so that one is out.)

None of the names quite seem to fit the little white puffball that has now taken over the realm of their break room, however—so Tim and Martin find themselves going back to the drawing board. They reluctantly leave the Institute at the end of the day, still without having decided upon a name.

“JON JUNIOR!” Martin screeches excitedly the next morning as they’re congregating once more in the break room, zombie-like before their tea and mid-morning snack time (primary schools don’t get all the fun, okay).

Jon and Sasha startle, and for once even Tim himself jumps. The rabbit doesn’t seem to care much where he is, nibbling at some hay in his corner litter box.

“I—what?” Jon asks, flabbergasted, although he manages to not drop his toast this time. Character development.

“We should name him Jon Jr! After you!” Martin explains eagerly.

“Absolutely not,” Jon tries to say, but before he can finish, Tim is jumping in.

“I think that is an excellent idea,” he says, grinning broadly. “Thoughts, Sasha?”

“I’m not emotionally invested in this.” Sasha shrugs, uncaring. “I’m going back to my desk.” She takes her drink and walks out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind her.

“All right, since Sasha doesn’t care, I’ll decide her vote for her,” Tim says, carefully containing his glee. “So that’s three votes for and one against, then. Majority rules.”

“What? No!” John protests, but Tim is too busy looking at the rabbit for confirmation.

“What do you think, little guy?” He walks over, bends down, and lightly boops the rabbit’s nose. “Are you a Jon Jr?”

The rabbit twitches his nose in agreement and poops.

“Well then!” Tim stands, clapping his hands together. “That’s been decided upon.”

No, it hasn’t,” Jon insists, but Tim cares little for his boss’ objections. He’ll accept his fate as Jon Senior eventually.

To Tim’s utter surprise and fascination, it happens sooner than later.

Jon, Tim quickly realizes, is a lot like the one dad who says “no dog” and then ends up loving the dog more than he loves his own children.

Despite his initial objections, the daft fool ends up getting caught up in Jon Jr’s big, innocent, rabbit-y gaze (worse than even Martin’s puppy-dog eyes, they conclude gravely), and by the end of the day Friday Jon has announced that he supposes the rabbit can stay with him over weekends and holidays.

“We’re still not keeping him,” Jon reminds them all, even as the rabbit gathered in his arms, giving his nose kisses and knocking his glasses askew, says otherwise.

He gets caught trying to sneak the rabbit into his office on more than one occasion, but Martin raises a fuss about it.

(“He’s all of ours! Jon Jr is our department’s mascot now,” Martin protests defiantly. “You can’t take him away from the rest of us.”

“Yeah,” Tim adds, mostly just to stir up drama—he doesn’t particularly care one way or another. “You can’t just swoop him up and file him away like one of your statements.”

“Just don’t let it get out and chew at my electronics,” Sasha says, distractedly typing something on her phone, probably to that weird new boyfriend.)

To stave off the imminent coup, Jon Jr becomes an officially-declared resident of the break room. He slowly amasses chub around his middle and a cardboard kingdom of bunny toys, houses, blankets, and treats. A rabbit could want for nothing more.

And perhaps—perhaps a human could want for nothing more, too, Tim thinks as he looks down at the figure curled up on the sofa, rabbit nestled against his chest.

He doesn’t love the man, not by a long, long shot—doesn’t even particularly like him half the time—but Tim can’t deny that the scene is adorable. And, regardless of his very vocal protests, Jon Jr may very well be what Jon Sr needs to finally process things and move the hell on with life.

Tim smiles grimly. It’s about damn time.

He quietly closes the door to the room and heads back towards the Archives. He’ll leave Jon to wake himself up.

(And to discover for himself that Jon Jr has peed on his pants leg.)

Of course, this is the Archive we’re talking about, so naturally the peace is abruptly shattered, and everything goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Tim isn’t entirely certain what happens or why, but all of a sudden Sasha isn’t really Sasha, and he and Jon have gotten backed up and cornered in the tunnels as this not-really-Sasha stalks towards them, predictably with the intent to kill, just like the rest of the spooks they are so lucky to deal with.

Tim and Jon Sr slowly back away until they hit a dead end. Meanwhile, Jon Jr licks at Tim’s arm—he’d been scooped up as they ran into the tunnels, Tim doesn’t entirely know why—and despite the fact that they are most probably about to, y’know, die, the little kisses almost feel strangely reassuring.

The thing-that-is-not-Sasha cackles, her—their?—its?—voice distorted and echoing throughout the tunnels. It stalks towards them.

All of a sudden, Jon Jr wriggles loose and leaps smoothly down onto the ground. He scampers in front of Tim and Jon, heading towards bitch-give-me-my-Sasha-back.

“No! Get back here!” Tim hisses at the rabbit, even though he knows it’s pointless. He hates to admit it, but he’s becoming rather fond of Jon Jr, even if Tim mostly brought him in to piss off and totally not help Jon. Jon—who, speaking of, seems to be equally fond now, judging by the deflating tire of a terrified squeak he makes, and the adorable immature grabby arms he makes at the little bugger.

“Junior,” Jon calls out, sounding like a toddler who’d just been told Santa wasn’t real (he is, they have the statements to prove it, he is). And Tim wants to laugh, albeit hysterically. The first time he sees his brick wall of a superior cry and it’s over a rabbit, and he’s not even going to have time to gloat over it because they’re about to die. “No! You’re going to—”

Jon Jr stops and sits in front of wholly-absolutely-totally-not-Sasha-what-the-fuck, who looks down at him, bemused through its murderous bloodlust.

The rabbit lifts a dainty paw up to his mouth, and suddenly—suddenly it’s twisting and huge, towering up to the ceiling of the tunnel, its skin hairless and tinted a sickly, glowing gray, with five, six, seven...a whole lot more limbs than a rabbit is supposed to have.

The not-rabbit unhinges its now meters-long jaw and snaps up the creature.

Tim and Jon stare at each other, wide-eyed.

There is a loud gulping sound, then a deafening crack, and suddenly there is a very normal white rabbit sitting in front of them again, carefully cleaning one paw with a very normal pink tongue.

“Wh—” Tim chokes on his own words.

The holy-shit-it-really-is-an-eldritch-horror-after-all stretches, yawns, and flops over in a dead sleep.

“...We’re keeping the rabbit,” Jon says faintly.

“I—yeah.” Tim nods, light-headed. “We’re keeping the rabbit.”

Jon Jr the rabbit-slash-eldritch-abomination gets a very hearty dinner of romaine lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumber peels that night.

(Tune in next time* for the terrible, terrible realization—“Jon Jr is a girl?!” (Also why is there another dead body again, dammit, can’t we go one week))

Fin

First || Next

(There may or may not actually be a next time. It depends. )

Behold. What very well may be the stupidest thing I have ever written. Ahem. Did I say stupidest? I meant most brilliant. Clearly I meant it’s the most brilliant thing I have ever written. Obviously.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! I have a bunch of ideas to continue this ridiculously silly AU of sorts, but idk if I’m going to quite yet and am not certain that I’ll be continuing to write for TMA. atm I’m focused on a different fandom, and I’m only on s3, so the really big idea I had has to wait, anyway.

Want to chat or be added onto any of my taglists? Shoot me an ask or a message here or via my other social media!

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limewrites-archive · 4 years ago

Text

Disguise | Bruno Bucciarati x Leone Abbacchio ( Bruabba )

Warnings: mild NSFW (light smut)

Word count: 1,742

(Also on a03! )

Masquerades, so wondrous, graceful and bewitching. Leone Abbacchio was a hired assassin, to kill one of the last vampire nobles in all of the continent. Bruno Bucciarati was at times merciless when it came to hunting down his prey. The public eye had no idea such creatures exist, though of course there were always the skeptics and believers. His parties or masquerades if you will, were grand and had a very high guest count. Abbacchio knew that there were plenty of humans that would be going but his job was to find out who and where the vampire was going to kill and to end him.

The first order of Leone's business was to sneak into the ballroom. It was easy enough, but the moment he was able to walk freely in plain sight, he was asked to dance by many women. Of course, to not be suspicious, he danced with a few here and there. He knew the moment he saw the masked man, his dark hair was what gave Bruno Bucciarati away; he distinct bob cut and the piercing blue eyes of his. Abbacchio wore an all-black outfit with a white mask as well as a large hat to hide his lavender hair to its best. The more he danced with the fine women that attended, the more whispers from them afterward spread across the room. 'Who is he?' 'Why is he so mysterious?' 'My god- the way his eyes looked into mine for the moment..' Sure, most was gossip and women were swooning for someone that hadn't even seen their face or had a long conversation with. He wasn't as nearly as wealthy as the women here, but he sure dressed like it. Bruno from across the room was viewing the man that had such an exquisite body. A healthy, strong body that he could sink his teeth into and drain of all life. His mind wandered to how he would get the tall glass of blood into his chambers or how to get him into the garden where he could easily bury his body. The women on his side pouted, realizing that their man of interest wasn't paying any attention to them. They pushed up their corsets, raising their breasts to give Bruno a better view, some touching his arms and thighs, rubbing gently to get any reaction out of him. These ladies were all competing with each other, their fathers or uncles wanted them to marry a man of high class and wealth, they wanted to see who he would choose to be his bride. With the time of life, it's 1842. Bruno had been alive for much more than that, but this day and age, he had to tell lies to everyone. He wasn't interested in women but a man interested in a man was frowned upon. Though he had to woo women, to not be suspected as anything less of the man he was.

Time glided by, Abbacchio was fully aware of the time slipping, the possible window to eliminate Bruno Bucciarati was closing. He didn't have to watch Bruno as much as he thought he would if he had to. The group of girls fanning themselves stuck to his side to where Bruno was just sitting on a chair all night. One of the more grand waltzes played, and he was asked to dance by his most wealthy following women. He nodded, taking her hand as she scuttled in her tiny shoes onto the marble dance floor. There had been a girl that was dancing with Abbacchio the most, resting her head on his shoulder as the two gently swayed. Out of courtesy, Abbacchio asked if she could do the honor of gracing him with her name, but she refused and didn't care for his name either. As the waltz sped up to a new one, she lifted her head and partners were switching around. This continued, and eventually, the assassin got his next partner. The creature he was out to kill. They danced, but as they were going to switch again, Bruno was set on staying with Abbacchio. Now was the time for both of them to strike. Bruno spoke first, "Enjoying the party? Such a shame you had to spend it with all of the boring women. I must say, Lady Cordelia, is one of the few women I can tolerate. She seemed quite fond of you. She's not one for dancing long or with one dancing partner for so long. What did you think of her?" Abbacchio didn't say much, just sighed. "Cordelia, huh? She didn't give me the honor of knowing her name." Bruno chuckled, "Oh, of course, she didn't. she wanted to see if you would follow her tonight, to see if you were unlike the other noblemen that only go after her looks. She is different the most. She has a brain. A pity, that you couldn't have the chance to eat the food my servants prepared, or to take a look at my prize-winning rose bushes in the garden." Bruno had a half black, half white mask with almost angelic wings on the side, his black and white outfit did have lots of feathers on the shoulder pads. 'Not like he needs all of this...food...roses.. it all dies and rots, he outlives them...'

There was a small smirk that initiated a small laugh, "You know, you may be wondering why on earth I have such things, but I assure you it's well worth a spare moment of your time tonight. Come, get some fresh air." The two exited the ballroom, down to a corridor that Bruno swore wasn't far from the garden. Bruno could hear any new thoughts that Abbacchio had. With the comment Bruno had made, Leone was wary of what he was thinking. The vampire's plan already started. Luring this healthy, young, handsome nobleman into the secluded corridor using a power of his to see how he would kill this man walking behind him.

Bruno's power was to release pheromones, heightening his preys sex drive. Some would call it witchcraft, seducing who he wanted by just releasing just the slightest scent from his body. Vampires have to get willing food somehow, right? Though, it only heightens what's already there. He bit his lip, he wanted to have a bit more fun with this prey more than usual. Leone couldn't see anything, Bruno reassured it was close, apologizing for the long walk across his mansion. At last, he turned, smiled and opened a door for Leone. "A stop through the green room where my fresh tea leaves are from if you don't mind." Leone nodded, following and acting as oblivious as he could in his own mind. His eyes ventured to Bruno's, there was something about his figure that was just right, but he entered through the door. The room was completely dark, and he knew it wasn't the green room as promised. His heart was racing, and Bruno pounced on his 'weak' prey. Bruno couldn't take it anymore, he pushed Leone down on the bed, fast to straddle him and have a strong grip on him. "Sir, I know I'm being forward, but please...let me take off your mask." Abbacchio felt his worries fade, and his pants became tighter. There was no way he would let this happen, but he wanted to melt under Bruno's touch. He shouldn't, but he still granted Bruno permission, and he took off his mask and hat. Bruno did the same, revealing his hungry expression. The smaller, but stronger male leaned to Leone's ear, nibbling gently before whispering. "I know this is taboo, but I thought you looked to be the type of man to be fond of other men. I watched the way Cordelia tried to get your attention, but you only looked out, completely uninterested in her and her figure. I could feel your eyes scan my body, oh how perfect this is." With Bruno being on top, he ground gently against the noticeable bulge in the male's pants." Abbacchio shuddered, his body was wanting, but his mind kept screaming no. Bruno was gentle, despite his hold on Leone, kissing his neck in the best spots, even blessing him with a short make-out session, both hungry. Abbacchio completely forgot what he was supposed to do, until he felt his skin break and teeth sink into him. Abbacchio panicked, and tried sitting up, but couldn't move. "Oh no, love. You're not going anywhere." Bruno sunk his teeth into Abbacchio once more, sucking the blood, draining him.

It was all blurry, the pain and pleasure caused by the vampire he was set out to kill. He enjoyed it, and his senses were not returning. At least not any time soon. When he woke, he was astonished to not be dead. He was in the same bedroom as he was led into. The sunshine peeking in from the curtains, the masquerade was over. He stood, rushing to the curtain and opening them viciously. Bruno hadn't entirely lied, there was the rose garden, and Bruno watering his white roses. He held a large umbrella, black and white clothing similar to last night, but small spectacles that were very dark. His skin was a greyish pale, unlike his own fleshy pale complexion. The large window was tall, larger than Leone from head to toe. Bruno sensed his gaze and met his eyes with Leone. Leone looked around, this couldn't possibly be real, and it wasn't until then, he realized his human body was completely exposed, and he retreated back to the bed. He looked around for any sign of anything, and on the dresser, there was a sealed letter, next to a neatly folded pile of clothes. He opened it, and read the page. 'Let's keep this between us. I'd enjoy it if you'd come to visit me, Leone Abbacchio. I know you were sent to kill me, but it seems that you couldn't bring yourself to do it. The way your body took control last night, you enjoyed me, too much.' All in the moment blur now came back to him vividly, and his face reddened. 'You could stay with me too, for all eternity. The choice is yours, Leone.' It was signed with elegant penmanship. Leone set the paper down on the bed, thinking. He would have to think a long time before making a choice.

il finale.

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