#hmm guess the theme for this week is
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
shivunin · 1 year ago
Text
In Peace
(Arianwen Tabris/Zevran Arainai | 1,846 Words | Fluff | AO3 Link | CW: brief references to sex, implied/past suicidal thoughts)
Summary: Zevran and Tabris have developed a nightly routine; it surprises him to realize how much he dislikes the idea of breaking it
When Zevran had first seen Arianwen, they’d been trying to kill each other. 
This was not especially odd, he found out later. Statistically speaking, Arianwen was thinking of killing most of the people she met, if she was not already actually attacking them. Zevran was no exception in this; it mattered little that he had been trying to die at the time, and she only obliging his death wish. She had spun through the crowd like dancing death, her face lit with a heady glee. In that moment, Zevran had thought that if he was to die here on some nameless road in Ferelden’s nethers, at least there would be beauty in his death.
Zevran would never have guessed then that she could sleep so sweetly draped across his chest—she had certainly never done so before this night. He certainly would not have guessed that she snored so loudly. It would not have occurred to him to wonder on that first day, Zevran supposed, given that he’d been fighting for his life.
Still—the snoring did come as a surprise. She was usually very quiet when she slept on her side—or perhaps it was simply that her face was closer to his ear now, and thus much louder than he was used to. 
His Warden slept with her hair braided, though in a looser plait than she usually wore during the day. Zevran passed a hand over it softly, hoping to wake her enough to make her shift aside. Instead, every muscle in her body that had been soft and liquid went taut at once, entirely alert between one heartbeat and the next. 
“Nothing is wrong,” he whispered at once. The alternative was a knife thrown through the wall of his tent, most likely, and he had so recently patched the last hole she’d made. 
Arianwen rolled away from him despite his quiet words. When she sat up, her dark silhouette was cut against the lighter blue of his tent, body alert and aware. It was plain that she was listening for some disturbance beyond their tent, so Zevran said nothing more. He propped himself up on his elbows instead, feeling the wash of cooler air against his loose tunic when the blanket fell away from him. 
The sky had not lightened outside, but the fire was banked; they were in the deepest part of the night, perhaps an hour or two from the start of her watch. It had become a routine of sorts for her to stay in his tent until then, though she usually returned to her own tent when she was finished. Zevran was not certain if this tradition of hers was some concession to propriety (unlikely) or the delicate sensibilities of some of their traveling fellows (even less likely) or if she simply had no interest in waking up beside him when dawn came. 
Knowing her as he did now, he supposed it was most likely some fourth reason that had nothing to do with any of the other things. Perhaps she lovingly polished each of her blades alone in her tent until daybreak. He would not put it past her. But, he realized as she moved to stand, this routine might be more easily broken than expected.
And…perhaps he had grown more attached to it than he might have thought.
“Wait,” he said, his voice abrupt in the quiet of the night. Arianwen paused on her knees. 
“What?” she whispered. “I thought you were sleeping.”
Zevran found her hand in the dark on the second try. It was braced on her knee, but she allowed him to pull it away and press it to his mouth instead. Could he tell her not to go? It didn’t seem right, but he could not immediately determine why. She had surprised him by staying when he’d made it clear he had no interest in lovemaking tonight. They had spent plenty of nights together and apart since they’d begun doing whatever it was they were doing. None of the nights together had not featured some sort of…well. 
It surprised him now to realize that it had been pleasant to feel her against him as he’d fallen asleep, even if he would have gladly gone without the noise. 
“I do seem to recall you sleeping, too,” he told her. “Quite comfortably, in fact.”
He could feel her expression in the silence that followed. It would be the one in which her brows furrowed and she looked at him sidelong, as if trying to weigh whether he was making a joke or not. 
“You woke me. Did you not…” she trailed off, taking her hand from his. Zevran peered into the darkness, making no sense of her expression and trying nonetheless. 
“I did not mean to,” he told her truthfully. 
She moved—he could not see how—and a moment later he felt her breath on his cheek. 
“What do you need?” she asked. 
Zevran turned his head, nose brushing against the curve of her cheek. Her face was the only part of her not obviously scarred, he had found. Her cheek was very soft against his skin, the fine hairs there tickling softly. When he leaned his cheek against hers, she didn’t waver an inch.
“There is nothing that I need,” he told her, emphasizing the last word, “but I would very much like for us to go back to sleep. Together.” 
Slowly, one of her hands came to rest on his knee. Her index finger tapped once, twice. This was a tell: she was thinking very hard. Zevran privately thought that he might be the only one in the world who would know when she was bluffing at cards, should she ever play them. Her face was impossible to read at first glance, but the rest of her body spilled her secrets easily enough. Months on the road had taught him this as they’d taught him everything else he knew about her. 
Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Some decision was being made, some calculus of factors entirely beyond him. She had done this before she’d told him to keep his earring, too. The verdict had not been in his favor then. He wondered if he would fare so poorly now, too. 
Zevran thought of the weight of her body over his chest, of the way she’d looped leg and arm over him while they’d slept. He thought of the ragged sounds she made in her sleep when the nightmares came, of the way she wrapped herself around him when the foul dreams woke her in the night. 
He thought of how the leather and steel scent of her comforted him when his own dark dreams paced close and set shining teeth at his throat. The smell of leather reminds me of home, he’d told her months ago. It reminded Zevran of her now, too, until the three were all twined together as one. He did not want her to go—not yet. He had grown accustomed to sleeping beside her until the moment before she needed to leave. 
“Arianwen,” he said, and felt the falter in her tapping. “Mi vida. Come to bed.” 
Her sigh rustled his hair. 
“I should never have told you I like the way you say my name,” she told him, but he could hear that he’d swayed her already. Only a little more and they could go back to sleep. A few hours more—only a few, but they mattered. He wanted every single moment he could coax out of her. He wasn’t above fighting dirty for them. 
“Surely you do have no desire to lace up your boots and stumble through the dark of the whole clearing only to climb into your cold bedroll alone,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her cheek. “My dearest Arianwen. Surely not that.”
The blankets over him shifted when she slid beneath them again. The tip of her braid trailed over his arm. A victory—and it felt like one, for all that it had been a battle of words rather than blades. 
“If you are sure I won’t keep you up,” she said doubtfully. “I’ll stay. Until watch.”
Keep him up—was that what she’d been worried about? 
Zevran frowned as she settled in beside him again, less than an inch separating their bodies. He lowered himself back onto his bedroll and reached for her hip. 
“Come closer,” he told her. “It is cold.”
Tabris came, settling against him stiffly, then relaxing by degrees. Zevran kissed the top of her head and she relaxed further still. After a moment, she tugged the blankets more fully over both of them.
“You wanted me to stay just so you could be warm,” she murmured, though there was no heat to the words. Already, he could feel her slipping into sleep. She fell asleep easily enough, his Warden, though she woke at the slightest provocation. Zevran ignored the surge of affection at the thought, though it grew more difficult to disregard when she slipped an arm around his waist. 
“Yes, of course,” he agreed. She made a soft noise, rousing at the words. 
“Say’t again,” Arianwen said. 
“Say what?” he asked. 
Arianwen squeezed him slightly and tucked herself more fully against his shoulder. There was a scar beneath the place where her ear rested, a very thin line just below the joint of his shoulder. She’d stabbed him there all those months ago when they’d first met. One evening, when they’d been dozing in the afterglow, he had casually pointed the silvered line of scar tissue out to her. Tabris had scowled at him and gone all stiff—he still had no idea why—and she’d made a point of not holding him like this for weeks afterward. What a relief it had been when she’d forgotten again. 
By day, she was quick and dangerous and sharp. He liked that about her, he’d found. But he liked her like this, too, somnolent and warm against him in the night. This—her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist—this was his alone. 
There had been very, very few things in Zevran’s life that had belonged to him alone. He had gone without sleep, without affection, without comfort for so long that he knew better than to disregard such things when they were offered openly. No—such things were the sort one held onto with both hands, even if it took some extra coaxing in the dead of night. 
“You know what,” she told him. 
Zevran smiled to himself, allowing his eyes to slip closed again. 
“Goodnight, Arianwen,” he said. 
“”Night, Zevran,” she echoed, her voice slow. “Until watch.”
“Until watch,” he agreed, and paused. “Arianwen.”
She made a soft sound, neither sigh nor purr nor moan, and melted against him. Zevran lay awake for some time after, his eyes shut tight, his hands as still as he could make them. She did not snore, and he did not wake her. 
Tabris’s watch came and went. 
They both slept soundly through it.
(For Day 5 of Zevwarden Week: Bodies and Minds. Thanks again to @zevraholics for organizing!)
72 notes · View notes
jin-zixun · 5 months ago
Text
the desire to write glee s6 au fic
vs
the desire to not watch glee s6 which would be an implicit requirement to properly writing s6 au fic
#gonna be real with u im livin there but i have no desire for the back half of glee#i barely have any desire for s3#but hey maybe a terrible idea like rewatching glee would actually uh give me a fresher perspective on the story as a whole#i've been rewatching some of it but uh yeah not. not anywhere close to all of it#...also if i rewatch glee ill start talking about glee more and like... themes and storycraft and shit... in fuckin glee...#spoiler alert i think its bad#and not because of the deliberate absurdism or anything#that's good i actually remember enjoying the glee aesthetic and exaggerated everythings#but it might be interesting to watch it when i'm not actually a teenager anymore#and maybe wonder if glee actually got worse or if i was just younger when the first seasons aired lmao#but between watching 2x06 and 3x13 and none of the other episodes... the contrast is stark af and that's only s3#NBK is so so so good even the other stuff going on is interesting (and kinda fucked up but that's the glee vibes yknow?)#and it sets up kurt's storyline so so well - thematically with the song choices and the acting is superb and the chemistry omg#it almost makes you believe they aren't going to fumble it 20 times at least over the next two seasons#Heart is like... Worth it I guess but it's like all the other promised Karofsky storylines#hyped up in leaks and previews and then fumbled and dropped unceremoniously#...only Heart was out here gaslighting the audience with some revisionism that makes u go 'hmm' esp after just watching NBK#i mean bold words to say about the guy who has been doing that all episode like k but that aside#dave karofsky did not cup kurt's face and go in for a second kiss only for them to call it “hate kissing”#dont worry mr karofsky i heard ur little whimper 😔#...fuck im gonna need a glee tag yall can mute aren't i?#...................2 to 6 business weeks......................
1 note · View note
sungstars · 4 months ago
Text
slut me out | njm x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i.e you needed to give your situationship the time of his life after seeing his instagram story.
word count: 2.8k (not proof read)
content warning: situationship, open ending, smut lol, oral (m. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), explicit sex, unprotected sex(no!), creampie, lmk if i missed anything thanks!
author's note: two fics in one day! can we believe this LOL. would you guys be surprised if i said that i have a mark one that i'm hoping to finish and it'll be queued up for tomorrow morning/afternoon. i hope you all enjoy this fic and as always, dedicated to my crazy and delusional bffs. likes & reblogs are appreciated as always. requests are open till october 5th! i'm still working on my jay fic, and hoping to have that out by tuesday!!
Tumblr media
“you’re fucking crazy,” you said once the phone picked up after the first ring, “you can delete that story, i saw it.”
jaemin let out a hearty laugh, “hmm? but jisungie looks so cute, what if one of my followers wants me to put them on with him?”
you jeer, fingering hovering over the red button on the screen, “you definitely could’ve posted him without making sure your shirt is unbuttoned and they can see the chain that i bought you peeking through. what if they’re crazy like me?”
“don’t worry, nobody has you beat in that department.” jaemin added quickly, “you can come over if you want.”
did you want to? absolutely. you needed to rock his world so hard that it was likely to be rated a category 9.5 earthquake.
“you can come to me,” you quipped back, “and hurry up, i dont have a lot of patience. don’t change either.”
“you’re so demanding,” jaemin whined, a glint of playfulness evident in his voice, “i have to stop at my other hoe’s house first, but i’ll be there.”
“not even funny.” you hung up the phone, rolling your eyes.
focusing back on your room, you jumped up in a panic. you needed to change and also pick up the clothes you had thrown all over the place.
realistically, you didn’t know if jaemin was kidding about seeing somebody else first, but if he wasn’t, you had about twenty minutes including traffic before he got to your place.
you shoved all the loose piece of clothing into whatever drawer or laundry basket they would fit into. doing a once over your room, you were satisfied with what you were able to do.
looking at your floor length mirror, you didn’t care too much about what you had on. a big t-shirt with snoopy playing baseball on the front.
easy access for jaemin, but you should probably change your dingy halloween panties from victoria secret into something cute.
perhaps pink? that seemed on brand for tonight’s theme.
you were digging through your underwear drawer looking for that lacey pink thong you got from the mall a few weeks ago when you heard a knock on your door.
“fuck,” you said, slamming the drawer shut to no avail and rubbing your hands down your hair to smooth out any frizz, “fuck.”
the knocking got louder, causing you to practically trip on air as you ran to grab the door.
“took your sweet time letting me in,” jaemin pouted. leaning against the doorframe when you opened it, “that mad at me?”
rolling your eyes, you pulled him in by his silky pajama shirt and closing the door behind him, “guess she wasn’t that good if you got here within the same hour of calling.”
jaemin smiled, dropping down onto your couch and sliding his shoes off, “i’d say she was pretty damn good if i got done quickly and i’m not here.”
you crossed your arms, scoffing at his comment and began to walk to your bedroom.
“you’re such a dick.”
“i heard that,” he said, jumping off the couch to chase behind you, “i'm just kidding y/n, you know it's just you."
"are you sure? cause you keep making comments about other girls, are you trynna compensate? i don't care if you see other people."
jaemin laughed at you for the nth time this evening, making you want to just slam your bedroom door in his face and lock him out, but unfortunately for you, seeing jaemin in those pink pajamas and gold chain sent you into borderline ovulation.
you grabbed jaemin by the arm, leading him to sit on your bed and standing between his legs.
"it's just you," jaemin reassured, a hand coming up to rub your hip gently, "just like driving you crazy 'cause i know you're really fucking insane."
jaemin got a whiff of your secret cloud perfume as you leaned down and kissed his neck gently.
"i'm going to turn you every way but loose tonight," you whispered into his ear, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and i'm gonna show you how insane i am over you."
a shiver went down jaemin's back as you kissed down his neck and to his adam's apple, making sure to suck dark marks into his skin before placing your lips on his.
his arms wrapped your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. your hands found their way entangled into his brunette locks, moaning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
the two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, though jaemin just wanted to put up a good fight before letting you win.
you then slipped your tongue into his mouth, removing your hands from his hair and moving them down to his shoulders.
you gently pushed him back and onto the mattress, letting your fingers skillfully undo his pajama shirt, enjoying the smooth silk under your fingertips before pulling the shirt open.
jaemin pressed his hips up, hoping to get a small bit of friction on his growing erection and moaning when you rut your own hips down.
pulling away from the kiss, your chest heaved as you did a lookover his body. his plush lips swollen and glossy with spit, dark splots decorating his skin from earlier, his own defined chest moving rapidly as he tried to catch his own breath.
"you look so pretty under me, jaem," you complimented, your fingers dancing across his exposed collarbones and down his gold chain, "a sight only i should be allowed to see."
jaemin exhaled heavily through his nose, "a sight only for you. . please, don't stop. i want you. . i need you so badly, y/n."
how could you deny such a request from a pretty boy completely at your disposal? you weren't a cruel or dumb woman, so of course you'll comply.
you leaned down to attach your lips to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently as you made your way down his chest.
moving the pink fabric away, you let your tongue teasingly flick at his nipple to elicit a whiny moan from his mouth before taking his nipple between your lips.
"fuck y/n," he groaned, "that feels so good."
smirking to yourself, you pull off and stand up. the boy's eyes widened, trying to hold back another whine because why did you pull off? and why are you standing?
"c'mon," jaemin said, voice cracking slightly, "don't be a tease."
"a tease?" you titled your head as he sat up on his elbows, "if you beg, i'll consider."
a bright red hue cascaded over jaemin's face at your request, but he couldn't get any more pathetic than he already looked.
"y/n," he pleaded, "please do something. i am so undeniably hard, and if i don't feel those pretty lips or pretty hands wrapped around my dick that i know you love, i will implode and you'll be out of a bomb dick appointment and home."
a laugh escaped, jaemin really knew what to say to make you give into him. it's why you liked him honestly. he was funny and charming, and did in fact have a great dick that drove you insane. you used to be normal before he stuck his dick in you.
jaemin reached forward, grabbing your hand and placing it over his boner. that action alone could've made you cum in your panties because pathetic jaemin was probably your favorite jaemin.
you instinctively wrapped your fingers around it the best you could while it was restrained in those silky pants, slowly jerking him off and watching a bead of precum stain the fabric.
"see how hard i am?" he asked, breathily, "all for you. all because of you."
stroking your ego was one of the many things jaemin was good at, so you decided to play nicely and give him something to relief this tension you could feel growing in his body.
"take 'em off," you said, releasing his cock from your grip, moving back to give him room, "show me that pretty dick, jaem."
if you weren't standing in front of him, you were sure he would've fell face forward onto your carpet from how fast he was trying to get his pants down and off his hips.
once they were at his thighs, you leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before sinking down to your knees.
you were face to face with jaemin's cock, the tip an angry shade of red and precum still leaking from his slit.
spit began to pool inside your mouth the longer you looked at it, and you stuck your tongue out to swipe the precum dribbling from his cock.
jaemin moaned out, hands gripping the sheets beneath him, “stop. . put it in your mouth.”
you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, “don’t make demands.”
the brunette’s jaw ticked, one hand coming up to your hair and the other grabbing the base of his dick.
he pushed your head back roughly, tapping the head of his cock on your lips and smearing more precum across, “don’t be a fucking tease.”
your eyes widened in surprise at the switch in jaemin's demeanor, but instead of giving him a hard time, you complied by opening your mouth for him.
without hesitation, jaemin shoved his cock into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag and tears well up in your eyes.
"don't get sensitive now," he mumbled, swiping the tears from your face, "now be good and suck. show me why you're my favorite."
his favorite? you should been his fuckin' only like he said you were earlier. what is up with the inconsistency? he's gonna piss you off.
you used your tongue to lick the under part of his cock, pulling off to leave just the tip in your mouth.
jaemin's grip on your hair tightened, trying his best to let you have control, but wanting nothing more than to just fuck your throat until you're sobbing.
you pulled completely off his cock, bringing your hand to jerk him off while you used your tongue to lick a stripe on his balls and gently suck.
the brunette's eyes rolled back, a string of moans and high pitched whines leaving his throat as you continued to toy with his balls.
whenever your hand reached the tip, you would squeeze every so slightly, causing him to fuck into your hand.
jaemin was close, and you could tell by the way he was whimpering and trying to chase your hand.
you looked up at him, smiling to yourself before pulling off his dick completely, basking in his borderline sob at the loss of contact.
"why did you stop?" tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like he would explode, "you're so fuckin' mean."
cooing, you wiped tears away from his eyes like he did earlier, "cause i knew you were close, jaem."
he sniffled, grabbing you and pinning you down onto the bed in one swift motion.
sometimes, you forget how strong he can be, causing you to get even more wet if that was possible. your panties were sticking almost uncomfortably to your cunt, and you were hoping he would do something to relief that soon.
too lost in your own thoughts of pleasure, you didn't even realize jaemin was pulling your t-shirt up until the cool air hit your nipples.
he used his lithe digits to roll your perked nipples around, causing you to squeal at the contact.
"love the panties," jaemin teased, using one of his hands to snap the waistband against your skin, "so cute and so soaked. god, you really get off from anything as long as it's me, huh?"
"you fuckin' wish," you tried to bite, but it came out as a whimper when he pressed his hand against your core, allowing for some friction of pleasure.
"shhh," he said, "can't even muster an ounce of niceness when i'm about to fuck you?"
jaemin flicked your nipples, smirking at your almost pained moan before moving down to take your underwear off, eyes watching how they were sticking to your sopping cunt, "so wet for me, hm?"
you nodded your head in compliance this time, "all for you."
he swiped a finger up your slit, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean, "taste so sweet, but act so so mean towards nana, wonder why that is?"
you huffed, hooking a heel behind his thigh and pulling him close so his cock would make some contact with your cunt, a noise escaping your throat when the tip came into rough contact with your clit.
"that needy? what was it you said earlier? beg. beg for it, dumb whore."
degrading was something you and jaemin never tried, but with how effortlessly it slipped out of his mouth, you wish he would've done it sooner.
"jaem," you grinded against his cock, "please fuck me, y'know you want to. please, i need it so badly."
jaemin just looked at you unimpressed, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, looking at how you falter when his tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves, "beg more."
you wanted to burst into tears, he knows how much you want him, he can feel how wet you are and probably at more slickness slipping out as he teased you, "nana, please put it in. i'll stop being mean, promise. i need your cock--i need you. please fuck me."
his left hand came up to smooth your hair out, smiling all his pearls at you as he slowly pushed the fat tip of his cock into you, finally.
jaemin slowly pushed himself into your cunt, moaning at how easily you took his cock, letting his hand fall from your hair and place pressure on your clit.
"it's like you were made for me, fuck" he gritted his teeth, thrusting shallowly into you, "taking me so well every time, your cunt just fuckin' sucks me in.. ha."
all you could do was moan in response, eyes rolling back when jaemin's gold chain smacked you in the nose, "fuck, too good."
jaemin rubbed your clit roughly as he picked his pace up, hips snapping against yours as your arousal ran down your thighs and his balls, creating a wet sound between the two of you.
you clenched around jaemin's cock, letting out high pitched noises of pleasure as he fucked you harshly, the knot in your stomach tightening and traveling down your pelvis.
"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you cried, placing your hand on his lower abdomen and trying to push him away, but he quickly snatched it and held it above your head, "jaem, fuck, please, it's too much."
jaemin ignored your pleas, "y'know you can take it, stop trying to run from it."
when jaemin snapped his hips harshly once more, you felt that knot in your stomach break and ecstasy overtake your senses.
you couldn't even muster the feeling of embarassment from how good you felt when liquid practically sprayed your thighs and jaemin's abdomen.
the boy tapped the head of his cock on your clit, groaning loudly as you continued to squirt before roughly showing himself back into you.
"jaemin," you squealed, back arching up, "i can't! i can't."
"you can," he said, fucking you harshly, feeling himself getting closer and closer, "and you will take this dick. you wanna whine about other people havin' it so bad, take it, slut."
with jaemin fucking you so soon after an intense orgasm, all you could do was sob and mumble his name. it wasn't going to take you long to cum again, and jaemin could tell about how you were clenching on his dick.
your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating red crescents as his chain smacked you over and over again, his orgasm approaching any second.
"i'm so close, angel." he whined, his thrusts starting to stutter and slow down, "fuck, can i come inside please?"
"o-of course," you nodded your head, your own orgasm approaching once more, "please cum in me."
one more snap of jaemin's hips and he let out a loud moan, stilling himself as white hot ropes of his cum began to fill you and create a creamy ring around his cock, "fuck, you were too good."
he began to thrust slowly to ride out your orgasms, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet praises into your ear.
once you pushed his chest away to let him know he was overstimulating you, he pulled out completely and laid next to you, chest heaving rapidly.
"y/n." he turned on his side, "i really do like you."
you smiled, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "i really like you too jaemin."
he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and pulled you closer to him, "it's always been just you."
end!
1K notes · View notes
trendywaifus · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
↳ you know you’re better than this.
featuring — anya x gn! reader (mouthwashing)
no, i don’t write for mouthwashing, there’s just not any anya content.
cw: dark themes, mentions of sexual abuse, abuse, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting, blood, implications of suicide, character deaths, controlling behavior, triggering themes, angst, panic attack, reader is fresh out of medical school, barely hurt and comfort
6 weeks before the crash.
“ guess who~? “
you croon, playfully hovering your hands over the onyx haired woman’s eyes as you snuck up behind her in the med room. anya was standing in front of the sink, quietly washing her hands. a soft giggle rolls off her smiling lips, body language relaxed,
“ hmm, daisuke?”
you snicker, “ i didn’t know i was a silly boy.”
anya hums thoughtfully while the faucet still runs and her hands soaking wet. “ captain? “
“ yes it is i, the big softie blond with curls! “ you proclaimed, goofily deepening your voice to make the voice of the captain, curly. if curly was here, he definitely would of made fun of your half-baked impression of him. anya lets out a bubbly laugh that makes the corner of your lips curl upwards even more. you fight the urge to hug her from behind and squeeze her silly from how wondrous she is. to think you get to be on a space trip with the woman you love and admire deeply makes you wanna float through the endlessly sea of stars and wonder.
“ now that I guessed you right, can i finish washing my hands and greet my lover properly? “ anya asks in a jovial tone.
“ mhmm~ “ you removed your hands away from her eyes and backed off so she can finish washing her hands. it takes a few moments for anya to finish. she turns the faucet off, grabs a paper towel from the dispenser, and wipes her hands off. after throwing the crumbled paper towel in the small bin, she turns around to finally face you. despite her hues resembling a gloomy grey, they brighten as they drink you in. anya immediately seeks for you, wrapping her arms around your frame and gently brushes up against you. you gladly reciprocate the loving gesture, running a delicate up her back and let it rest on her upper back.
“ so, how’s evaluations going three months in? “ you asked, pressing a quick kiss to her brow, “ has the others evaluations been okay? no crazy confessions yet right? “ you inquired with a teasing voice. anya is far experienced in psychology than you are so you leave the evaluations to her. and because anya’s more outgoing and hands-on, you felt like anya’s more capable of taking on medic role. you were luckily squeezed on this ship as a last minute intern similar to daisuke for the experience. six people on a four-man ship is so far quite the experience. you try not to get in the way of the others and besides anya, you mostly interact with curly and daisuke.
anya pauses, recalling her memories from the monthly evaluations.
“ hm. .—oh! daisuke. .a very bright and funny boy that really puts himself out there. he inspires me to be more optimistic. ugh, he’s also disgustingly lucky when it comes to those board games we play. “ her lips ball up in a cute pout, you laugh, “
“ stop saying he’s lucky, anya. you’re just being a sore loser. just accept that he’s better than you at board games! “
anya playfully rolls her eyes, “ oh hush. don’t tell me you’re on his side. “
you smirked, “ i’m on your side, beautiful—buttt i’m still gonna hand you the truth. lovingly. “
anya tells you about the other three evaluations, curly, swansea, and jimmy. her voice is light-hearted when she talks about curly. she describes him as being kind but a bit reserved. he never talks much about himself. everyone has their own story and perhaps even some like him chooses to not tell his as it’s locked away behind the fleshy walls of his bleeding heart. when anya got to swansea, her tone is the same but it’s dampens a bit; melancholic. she describes the crude mechanic as a man who’s been through a lot in life and still lives on despite his struggles. despite how rough he acts, there’s something about him that makes you feel sorry for him. there’s a sort of loneliness that clings to him like the fresh scent of dry balls after drying your clothes in a dryer. however, you can tell that daisuke’s light is smearing onto the much older man’s demeanor. he’s a little more livelier, although very rough on the edges—swansea expresses his care for daisuke in a tough love kinda way.
when anya finally gets to the gruff brunette man, the atmosphere shifts. her words holds a certain weight to them that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. her voice is meek and reluctant as she talks about his recent evaluation. you pick up on anya’s careful wording and brief pauses during it. she rests her cheek against your shoulder, holding you visibly tighter as if she’s trying to ground herself through you. anya says that he doesn’t really take his evaluation seriously and makes particularly sarcastic comments at her. great. you don’t like jimmy because there’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. was it that permanent mean look on his face? that judgmental look in his hooded, brown eyes whenever he passes by you in the hallways? what could have you possibly done to him to make him look at you like that? you don’t really talk to him and care more for curly. he is the leader and main pilot after all.
“ . .if he’s making you uncomfortable, i can do his evaluations for you. psychological evaluations require a one on one session and i can do it while you’re outside of the door.” you mutter, rubbing loose circles into anya’s back.
your lover stays silent for a moment. “ . . .no, i can handle it. but, you standing behind the door instead puts me a little more at ease though, haha. “
“ of course. anya, look at me. “ and she does, pulling her head away to peer at you with those pretty, upturned eyes of hers. a tender palm cups her cheek. anya’s skin feels warm and soft to the touch. “ if anything happens, you’ll tell me right? i may only be the intern but i will absolutely raise hell for you. “
anya smiles at you warmly at you, grayish eyes twinkling with endearment. she leans in and kisses your lips. “ i prefer that you not to because i’d hate for you to get booted into space by the crew. “ she remarks jokingly in between brief kisses.
“ hmm. “ you bring your lips to the bridge of her nose, under the tender flesh of her eye, everywhere until she’s a smiling mess. “ we’ll have to see about that. “
5 weeks before the crash.
restless, you exhale as you blankly stare at the white ceiling. due to anya’s head laying on your chest and her body nuzzled against your side, you can hardly change positions or get up, really. you don’t want to wake her up either.
“ can’t sleep? “ she whispers out gently, her hand that was intertwined with yours, lightly squeezed.
“ mmm, not really. did i wake you up with my defeated sighs, anya? “
“ . . kinda. but i’m use to this by now since this is a habit you like to do when you can’t sleep, (name).”you can hear the fond smile in her voice. after two years of dating, anya’s able to read and soak up your habits. she’s so attentive to your mannerisms, knows when you’re apprehensive by the twitching of your fingers and eyes. she knows when you’re happy, sad—it’s quite ridiculous how could someone so knowledgeable like her is struggling to get accepted to med school several times while it only took you once to get in. you’re not a registered nurse prior to getting into med school or anything like that. yes, you worked really hard—but lets admit it; you were just simply lucky to get in. lucky and currently hundred thousand dollars in debt after finishing.
“ i’ll let you sleep. i think i will just sneak into med bay to finish reading the social animal. i wanna be good at psychology as my awesome, future wife is.” you asked, pressing a chaste kiss on her temple.
anya laughs sleepily, “ oh, stop it. you’re not going to fall asleep in there, are you? “
“ of course not! i’ll come back to you once i’m feeling tired. but, if you miss me or have a nightmare, you know where to find me~ “
she removes her head off your chest and breaks away from you with a soft pout. “ i suppose so. “
you get up from the bed and dipped down to kiss the tip of her pretty roman nose. “ buh bye for now, beautiful. ” you coo, adjusting the blanket back over her body.
“ see you, hun. “
you slip on your slippers and walked out of your shared cabin. besides the sound of the low humming noise of the ship, silence fills the void of the still atmosphere. it’s surprisingly chilly as you exit the sleeping quarters and walk through the narrow-like hallways to medical. your footsteps softly bounces throughout the metal walls and your distorted shadow follows behinds you. there’s a churning feeling in your gut as you walk and walk. was it really okay to skip off to medical at the middle of “night” just to read? wouldn’t it have suffice to simply stay and talk to anya until you were able to fall asleep?
your eye twitch and your fingers curl ever so slightly.
should you just go back to her?
“ hey, you’re still “up.”
a rough voice calls out, ripping you away from your thoughts. you stop walking. your eyes wander over to the source and a shiver runs down your spine. jimmy, still in his jumpsuit, stands by the hallway leading to the cockpit. there’s a sense of uneasiness in the air as his quiet gaze lingers on you, waiting for your response.
“ yeah, can’t sleep. “ you say in a deadpan voice, “ what about you? “
jimmy runs his fingers through his tousled chocolate locks before shrugging. “ same as you. but i’m just taking a aimless stroll. where you headin’ to? “
none of your business.
“ medical. “
there’s something in his eyes that visibly changes; a taunting glint that has you side-eyeing him. a corner of his thin lips curl into a subtle, smug smirk.
“ you’re a little ways to go, dr. intern. “
you roll your eyes and start walking pass him, “ i know. at least i know where to go, mr. co pilot. “
jimmy clicks his tongue behind you, muttering something under his breath before his footsteps become distant in your ears. you turn your head, throwing a quick glance over your shoulder. you see his tall silhouette walking down the direction towards the sleeping quarters. “ smug fuck, i hope you sleep like shit tonight. “ you murmur, trying your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your tummy.
with a tired sigh, you slumped in the chair, turning one of many pages you gone through. the ticking clock in the background occasionally hits your ears as your fingers lazily drum against the pristine white surface of the desk. your droopy (e/c) eyes skim across a quote that leaves the remainder of your conscious mind wondering.
reason and emotion are not separate and opposed. reason is nestled upon emotion and dependent upon it. emotion assigns value to things, and reason can only make choices on the basis of those valuations. the human mind can be pragmatic because deep down it is romantic.
“is it wrong to use only reasoning to make a decision devoid of emotion . .? or is it actually wrong to let your emotions influence your decisions and reasoning? ” you sleepily muse to yourself.
oh, being human is so complicated.
your head perk up at the medbay door sliding open. surprise is written all over your face once you see a seemingly shaken up anya walking inside. her arms are tucked to her chest, hands clutching her elbows.“ anya? it’s only been. .two hours? you had a nightmare already? “ you asked worriedly, standing up from the desk to make your way over to her.
“ i. .y-yes, it was t-terrible. .” anya whispers in a quivering voice. her head is down, avoiding eye contact. you try to grasp her elbow and lure her into your arms but she violently flinches from your touch.
pulling away quickly, your face contorts into a look of worry. “ baby? “
teary-eyed, anya quickly lifts up her head, mustering a shaky smile. “ oh dear, i-i’m sorry. i-i’m just still quite shaken up from the nightmare, h-haha. i need a minute or so to recoup myself. can i stay here with you? “ anya sometimes get nightmares but it was only due to stress. she never had a nightmare that got her like this.
“ . .of course. you don’t even have to ask. here, you can sit on one of those beds. “ carefully, you ghost your hand over the small of her back as you guide her to a bed. she quietly sits down with a soft sniffle and you follow suit. your heart squeezes at the sound of her soft hiccups and the sight of her head down. you can hardly see her face due to her saber strands hanging down. “ can. .is it safe for me to have my arm around you? “
she meekly bobs her head and you delicately curl an arm around her, taking note of her body momentarily stiffening up before gradually relaxing. “ do you want to talk about your nightmare? “
it takes her a moment to reply. “ . . no. i don’t really remember much of it now anyways. “
you frown, leaving it at that despite wanting to push for more. anya always remember her nightmares. there’s something that’s eating away at your gut and it’s making you anxious. you gnaw at your lip and your eyes twitch. you should be focusing on her. whatever you’re feeling right now is the result of your overthinking. you should trust her. it was just a rare, horrible nightmare that gotten her like this.
things can happen unexpectedly without an explanation.
perhaps you shouldn’t push for an answer and leave it alone?
1 week before the crash.
“ hah! i win! in your face! “ daisuke laughs in triumphant, placing his pink piece over on the next move that solidifies his victory. anya groans loudly next to you, crossing her arms and pouts like a kid who gotten their toy taken away. “ this is unbelievable! i almost had it! “
you laughed, “ better luck next time, anya. it seems like the kid has a brighter future than you when it comes to board games! “
ever since that night, anya’s been uncharacteristically a little distant and jumpy. she’d always seek for your touch. but now, she seems reluctant to touch you first. whenever you try to show anya any kind of affection, it takes her a moment to reciprocate. you can’t really surprise her now or she’ll get visibly startled. anya has trouble sleeping and wakes up from the any sound or movement so you have to be still. for the past four weeks, you tried to ask her about her abnormal behavior, and she’d tell you vague reasons like, “ i just haven’t been feeling well. “ or “ that nightmare got to me more than i thought, i’m sorry. “
you’re worried about her—even her smiles are dampened with a sliver of sadness behind them. you really want to help but you don’t know how. it feels like she’s slowly putting a wall between you, her, and her true feelings. at least right now she’s like her old self again. you’re glad.
“ hey guys. having fun in here, huh? “ curly and jimmy walks inside the lounge. the blond waves at the three of you with a welcoming smile while jimmy awkwardly stood behind him.
“ yeah! i was able to beat anya this time! isn’t that right, anya? “
“ mhm, but as usual, it was luck. “ anya says softly, her voice lacking the enthusiasm as it did before. she tucks her arms into her chest. you flash her a look of concern. there it is again, the churning feeling in your belly. why did her mood sour like that? was it because of curly and jimmy’s arrival? your eyes travel back to the two men, quietly observing them. curly ruffles daisuke’s hair as he stood behind the couch daisuke is sitting on. he’s completely focused on talking to daisuke. your gaze transition over to jimmy and his eyes meet with yours.
that same glint he had in his eyes a few weeks ago, has you feeling more than uneasy. then, your mind suddenly flashes back to the subtle smirk he had and him walking back to the direction of the sleeping quarters. not too long after him going over there and you lounging in medbay, anya joins you, trembling and barely wanting you to touch her. you thought about her saying it was a bad nightmare and didn’t remember enough to tell you the details of it. like what you thought about before, anya always remembers her nightmares and only gets them due to stress.
the horrible realization starts to sink in and your heart drops to the very pits of your stomach. it drowns in a sea of dread.
oh god, did he go to her while you were. . .?
you feel sick. why did you ignore that gut feeling in your stomach during your walk to medbay back then? why didn’t you stay with anya? why did you just figure this out now?
you stand up unexpectedly, startling everyone.
“ (name)? what’s the matter? “ anya asks with clear worry. throat dry, you gathered up the strength to cast her a assuring smile that doesn’t reach your eyes in which she notices right away.
“ i. .i need to go to the restroom. i’ll be back everyone. . “
you quickly slide the bathroom door behind you. unable to hold your own weight anymore, you fall to your knees. there’s a suffocating feeling in your chest that’s causing your breathing to become uneven. your mind races back to the evaluations and how uncomfortable anya looked every time she had to do jimmy’s. yes, you stood behind the door to provide her some “security” in the recent weekly evaluations, but god, you actually let her be in the same room alone with this man? her assaulter? you did basically nothing but blindly trusted her words and ignored your intuition.
maybe anya didn’t want to tell you because she knew that you’d make a big uproar out of it, thus making the situation possibly even worse?
or maybe she was afraid you’d look at her differently?
. . .or maybe jim threatened her to not tell the crew?
t r u s t
she kept this in all this time and gave these inconsistent reasons that you knew was out of character for her to make up. . and yet. .you ignored the obvious signals and trusted her anyway. all you had to do was listen to your gut feeling and sit down with her to talk. all you had to say was that you were there for her and you’ll listen to anything she has to say if she wants to talk. you’d do anything for her—anything. even if it meant the cost of your internship which matters practically nothing to you. it’s not like the company was worth shit anyways. what fucking company doesn’t implement locks on doors in rooms where their own employees sleep in? what company just allows someone like him in?
tears bubble in your eyes as you grit your teeth, seething in frustration. you bite down on your bottom until the thin layer skin easily rips and starts to bleed. you bawl your hands into tight fists, nails dig into your palm until moon crescents dig into the flesh. you’re so horrible.
you feel so sick.
this is what she must of felt but much much worse.
you can’t even imagine how she had to process what happened all alone in the dark and walk through the long corridors in dead silence just to get to medbay, to you. you can’t imagine how it feels to hide something so traumatic from everyone while gathering up your broken shards of identity in silence. you don’t blame her—you can never blame her from hiding what happened between her and jimmy. you can only blame yourself for being ignorant and not fully realizing how dangerous he truly is.
your stomach turns upside down and you feel the sudden need to vomit. you scrambled over to the toilet and puke your guts out. series of fat tears roll down your cheeks.
“ ugh. .” you coughed hoarsely, hunched over.
you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick—
a few firm knocks on the bathroom door made you freeze.
anya’s concerned voice calls out behind the bathroom door. “ (name), are you alright? are you feeling well? “
you couldn’t even respond properly without hacking which gave yourself away immediately. alerted by your excessive coughing, she successfully slides the door open and rushes inside to your aid.
you never locked the door behind you, did you?
“ i’m here, (name). please, let it all out. “ anya rubs your back soothingly, not bothered by the drool and vomit spilling from your lips. you feel embarrassed under the worried, gentle gaze of anya. she whispers comforting words as you finishing vomiting. she grabs some paper towels and silently offers to wipe your face. you shake your head and gingerly take the towels from her hands and do it yourself.
anya opens her mouth to speak but you interrupt her.
“ it’s funny, “ you half laughed and sobbed, “ how you were able to come in so quickly just as i realized the door wasn’t locked. “
anya’s eyes widen with shock and looks as if she was about to burst into tears.
1 month after the crash.
“ anya, sweetheart? “ you gently call out to her before resting a hand on anya’s shoulder as stood by the sink, soaking curly’s bandages with soap and water. the fresh bandages are slowly starting to run out because of curly’s nonstop bleeding. you and anya both agreed to clean and reuse the bandages after one use to maintain the supply.
she still slightly jumps and turns her head around with a soft smile. “a-ah! s-sorry, (name). what’s wrong? “
“ let me clean the bandages and give captain his meds. you’ve been standing there for the past forty minutes. sit out in the lounge, okay? after watching you the first few times, i know what to do. “
a look of uncertainty dwells on her face as she ponders over your words. gingerly, you place a hand over her stomach. “ please, anya? i’ve seen how uncomfortable you look when you do this for him, you don’t have to hide it from me because i’m your lover. we’ve talked about this. i’ll do anything i can to shoulder your burden and make sure that you’re not pushing your body. “
anya’s grey hues flicker with appreciation and a twinge of guilt. “ okay, i’ll go sit down. if you need me, please holler out. i-i hate to make you do this after—“
“ anya. “ you interrupt her, reaching out to cradle her pale cheeks. they feel warm under your palms. your gaze pools into her own. “ anything. “ you whisper, resting your forehead against hers. anya’s lips pursue in a thin line. you know she wants to object but she swallows her words without anything to wash it down with, leaving behind a bitter taste. you lift your chin to press a lingering kiss to anya’s forehead.
tentatively, anya walks out of the medical, leaving you and a shell of a man in the room alone. a deep sigh runs past your lips and you go over to the half–foamed up desk to quietly grab a bottle of pain meds. “ captain. “ you mutter, walking over to the bed where he permanently lays. what a pitiful sight to witness. curly resembles a meat bag, his limbs left horribly mutated and amputated, his once tan skin is now all gone and long burned off. he’s stripped from his protection and only his vulnerable muscles are exposed. his only eye, wide and blue, stares up at you. you stare back blankly. through a singular sea of blue, you see a mass of fear, pain, and most of all, regret.
“ i don’t hate you, captain, “ you pop the bottle open. “ i’m sure anya doesn’t either. well, anya wouldn’t bring herself to hate you even if she wanted to anyways. “
he doesn’t respond but his permanent wide–eyed gaze continues to stare you down.
“ i’ll give you 5mg of oxycodone before i do your bandages. i’ll give you your second dose afterwards.”
you shake out two pills from the bottle. “ . . .all of this isn’t really your fault. misguided karma can be cruel. however, “ you slowly opened his jaw, the slimy sound of his muscles moving against each other makes you cringe. you see why anya can get more nauseated off of this. “ misplaced trust in a bitter person who’s undeserving of trust in the first place is what gets someone like you in a position like this. “
you hold his jaw, his exposed, irritated muscles twitch erratically against your protective layer of skin. your stomach swirls with a sinking feeling. curly starts to breath heavily, his pupil dilates. you hold one pill between your index finger and thumb. hot tears prickle at the corner of your twitching eyes as a shaky grin stretches across your face, and a bead of sweat rolls down your brow. you feel sick to the utter depths of your stomach.
“ don’t struggle , yeah? “
this wasn’t your worst moment right , curly?
0 days before the crash.
“ curly, fuck, where did he walk away to? “ you stopped curly in the middle corridors, pulling him back by his broad shoulder with a firm hand. curly, who’s face is full of panic and confusion, frantically responds back. “ i-i don’t know but i’m going to go find him to try and talk—“
“ i-i’m sorry, talk? this goes beyond talking at this fucking point! that fucking dog assaulted anya and she’s pregnant! “ you spat, heart full of frustration, “ do you think talking to her assaulter is going to fix shit? do you think doing the bare minimum is going to take back what she went through?! “
he runs a trembling hand through his blond curls. “ i-i understand but—fuck, let me just try—and—and, “
your hand drops to your side and you send him a look of utter disappointment. “ un—fucking—believable. how many times did anya tell you about jimmy? did you know about his shitty behavior even before she got pregnant? assaulted? she doesn’t want to tell me the answer so i’m fucking asking you! “
he stays slient, the guilty expression dawning on his face says it all.
“ . .what a great leader you are, captain. “ you growled, “ allowing that shitty friend of yours to ride this ship and you do barely nothing until the situation blows up in your face. this is what happens when you let your personal emotions dilute your judgment and reason as a leader. this is the outcome. the crew is my responsibility, my ass. if i had it my way, i would of shoved his ass in the cryo pod the second i’ve found out. but alas, i’m not the fucking leader but a damn intern. i held it allll in for a week for this shit? just imagine how anya felt to endure the awful trauma longer than that only for you, the captain, the only person with power, to handle it so horribly. fool.”you turn your heels and stomping back to medical for anya.
4 months after the crash.
“ daisuke. . kiddo, “ you gently call out to him as you find him somberly laying on his back next to the area leading to the cargo. his forearm rests over his eyes.
“ you okay? “
“ no, not really. .it’s just. .i wonder what my mother thinks right now. .she’s probably thinking i’m finally putting my feet into the water, finally learning and figuring out what i should to do in life during this internship. .meanwhile i’m on my back getting wasted off of. .mouthwash. ”
you sit down next to him. you thought about what to say for a prolonged moment before asking him,
“ before all of this, did you enjoy the internship? “
“ i. . .i did. .i was having fun . .with swansea, anya, you, a-and . . “
daisuke lets out a soft sniffle, you just smile solemnly.
“ don’t cry, sunshine. as long as you enjoyed yourself, that’s all that matters. even in the predicament we’re in now. .let’s have hope. once all of this is over, your mother will be proud that you got through this internship and you should tell her allll about what you did and learned with the ol’ man swansea. that man is a hot mess but i know he enjoys you as his intern.”
“ . . .really? “ he meekly asks, peeking at you from under his forearm with teary eyes. god, daisuke looks like a sad puppy.
“ of course, kiddo. “ you force out a happy laugh to appease him. you hate to lie to him but as long as jimmy is attempting to play captain, the situation will continue to spiral down into the abyss. you know with absolute certainty that jimmy was the one who caused the ship to crash. the fact that man pinned the blame on his close friend, who was trying to see good in him, for crashing the ship is beyond disgusting. judging from curly’s recent evaluation from anya before the crash, he did seem a little melancholic. but, for him to drastically make a reckless decision to sabotage the ship and everyone in it? he wouldn’t do that even if it was on his mind. jimmy on the other hand. .
“ oh. .it seems like you beat me to him. is he alright?”anya’s relieved voice rings in your ears. you draw your attention over to your partner who’s walking down the corridor towards you and daisuke. she uncrosses her arms that was once tucked to her chest and you raise a brow.
“ yeah, just a little sad but i was talking to him. how’d you know he was here? “
her gaze averts to the ground and you jump up, anger bubbles in your chest. “ jimmy, wasn’t it? what did he do? he didn’t hurt or yell at you or anything, did he? “
you pace over to her and rest your hands on her shoulders. “ no, no—seriously, i’m okay. . he sent me here to check on daisuke while he took care of some things. i was just surprised you were here. “ it had to be more then that.
sighing heavily, you turn back to daisuke who was now attempting to get back on his feet. “ daisuke, be careful. .has swansea been making you drink that mouthwash stuff again with him? “ you questioned skeptically, walking over to him to assist him back on his feet. wobbling, the brunette boy softly groans as you let him rest his arm loosely around your shoulders for support.
“. .no. .yeah. . i. .may. .kinda, totally have went overboard with it this time. b-but i gave it to jimmy because i didn’t wanna mess with it anymore. “
aggravated, you smack your teeth, “ so you’re saying that he saw you like that and didn’t even bother to help you up himself and sends anya down here instead? i’m so sick of his shit! some fuckin’ wannabe captain he is! you could of threw up and choked on your own damn vomit! that careless fucker knew that! “
“ you’re starting to sound like swansea. “ daisuke mutters through his drunken haze.
anya speaks up in a soft voice that’s mean to calm you. “ (name), you have to calm down. i understand that you’re upset. .but we need to rest daisuke down somewhere in the lounge. “
your eye twitch and your lips purse. she was right. plus, you don’t want daisuke to hear all of this while he’s struggling with his own inner conflicts. even the effects of the dire situation is dawning down on him and taking a toll on his mental health.
but fuck, you’re tired of being quiet.
d o s o m e t h i n g
? ? ¿ ! months before the ????
you can’t sleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips. anya’s body lightly stirs besides you. you don’t want to leave her but it’d be right to check up on curly to see if he needs his meds. there’s no time clock but curly’s groaning and restlessness indicates you that it’s time for his painkillers. if he is in pain, you’ll just give him his meds and come back to anya. it’s been a straight shot to the medical room ever since the crash. the foam has completely fucked up the sleeping quarters. . maybe it’s for the better or worse now. everyone is bunched together in the lounge room with extra sleeping beds from the medical. luckily, there hasn’t been any problems amongst the crew and it’s easier to keep in eye on jimmy.
“ anya, “ you whispered out to her. she lays on her left side, facing you. pieces of her shaggy hair prettily hovers over her tired eyes as they fluttered open. “ yeah? “ she responds back, you send her a small smile, reaching out to brush the strands away from her face.
“ i’m going to go check up on captain in the medical. i’ll. .be back, okay? if this dumb thing goes off, “ you gesture to the broken robot standing an inch away from you and anya’s sleeping bags. thankfully it’s able to go off, albeit broken thanks to jimmy. originally, anya suggested the idea and you couldn’t agree more with it.
“ i’ll be running to you so fast like how i did after i found out that passed my final exams. “ you whispered playfully.
recalling the joyful memory, a soft giggle leaves anya’s lips. she remembered you were so anxious and restless over the final exams that she kept having to pinch you and make you run with her to get your mind off of things. once you found out that you passed med school, you ran so fast to anya while she was waiting outside of the campus for you and nearly ran her over. she nods with a beautiful smile that you missed so much. anya was always a carefree woman who was willing to go through hardships with a cool–mind and solutions. but, after this overhaul trip going downhill and the terrible shit that’s happened and is currently happening—the light in her eyes is duller. it mirrors her reserved and almost timid-like behavior now.
that’s not who anya is—that’s not her and that’s not who she should by the damages of a terrible, insecure man who refuses to swallow down his own ever-growing problems like a hard pill and take responsibility for his self-sabotaging actions. you bet he’d choke on himself and self-destruct if he ever tried swallowing. all he ever does is vomit and project himself onto others.
“ okay. we can also clean his bandages after we’ve rested. “ anya suggests.
you shake your head, ghosting a hand over her belly. the bump has slowly been getting bigger but isn’t very noticeable to others. “ there’s no we, just me. the last time you got nauseated, you asked jimmy to give curly his meds while i was busy with daisuke and. .he. .” you trailed off and sighed with frustration. you still can’t get over anya telling you the truth about jimmy getting frustrated at her for asking him to give curly his meds because of her nausea.
absolutely horrible.
before anya can say anything, you give her a quick kiss on the forehead.
“ i’ll be back this time. “
you got up carefully to not alert the broken robot and paced towards medical. as you did, you glanced around the lounge to see who’s in their respective sleeping bags.
daisuke is laid out asleep.
swansea has been sleeping by the utility and now you know why he was does. you don’t have any objections to it. it’s only fair for the sunshine to be preserved.
jimmy is no where to be found. cockpit, maybe?
as you near the medical, alarming sounds of struggling and curly’s groans made your heart drop. frantically, you sprinted towards the door and slammed it open.
s e c o n d c h a n c e
s e c o n d c h a n c e
“ wh-what the fuck are you doing, jimmy?! g-get off of him! “ her
you ran over to the self-proclaimed captain who was hunching over the defenseless curly, shoving pills into his mouth and down his throat while beating at his stomach. with all of your strength, you shoved jimmy backwards, pulling him away from curly’s mutilated body, who helplessly laid there in the bloodied medical bed, crying and groaning in pain.
“ are you out of your fucking mind, you crazy fuck?!”you screamed at him while he has this mixed, horrid look of panic and frustration on his unshaven face. the pill bottle clutched in his hand made a loud rattling noise as he drops them on the tile floor and it rolls next to you.
“ i-i— h-he was. .m-making too much n-n—oomph! “
thanks to your adrenaline, you shoved him—hard, causing him to stumble back against the desk. pill bottles tumble and crash onto the floor.
hurried footsteps approach the medical from the loud crashes and yelling.
“ so your fucking solution was to beat up that poor man who can’t even goddamn defend himself now? let me fucking remind you since you’re too busy trying to play captain and can’t take responsibility! that man is laying there, the way he is now, because of—ugh! “
in a burst fit of blind rage, he returns the favor and presses his heavy palms against your chest, harshly shoving you backwards. you try to maintain your balance, but your foot accidentally steps on one of the pill bottles, and you fall backwards onto the solid floor, hitting your head. hard.
crack!
you almost instantly black out. not before hearing a loud gasp and anya’s frantic shouting.
“ (name)! j-jimmy. . . at . .did. . .u do?! “
¿!!! ?????????
just me and you vs the world, anya.
“ seriously? this show is so horrible, anya! even my dad who has terrible taste in tv shows, can’t watch this! “ you groaned exaggeratedly, sinking your cheek into your palm, slouching on the elbow of the couch. anya shrugs with a smug smile, placing the tv remote down on the coffee table.
“ well that’s tooo bad, hun. i need to binge this show to clear my mind out completely. all i need is my go-to-combo i usually get from wendy’s. “
you roll your eyes, “ it could of been at least mcdonald’s or something. but. .wendy’s? “
“ they have the best frosties! don’t act you dislike it because they messed up your order once. “ she giggles, leaning over to playfully hit at your ankle.
the show starts and you can barely stomach it. you don’t understand how she zeros out her mind from watching this stuff. it’s so cheesy and bad.
you peer over at anya and just as expected, she’s watching it like she’s into it. anya’s sitting up against the couch, legs crossed while she’s wearing a oversized t-shirt and pajamas. her heap of black shaggy hair that reaches just below her shoulders, was beautifully messy. usually at night, she doesn’t really bother with it. her fair skin shines pretty under the tv light. her pretty lashes fluttering and downturned eyes glistening with interest as she watch the corny reality tv show—god, she’s so breathtaking.
“ so, anya. “ you speak up as soon as the tv cuts to commercials. her undivided attention draws over to you and you cast her a goofy, suggestive smile.
“ while this commercial runs, wanna makeout? “
she blinks at you several times as if to process your question and bursts out laughing.
“ ewwww! “
“ ewwww? what the hell, baby! c’meree. “ you get off the elbow of the couch to playfully grab and pull at the laughing anya’s arm to pull her closer.
“ we’re not some bored teenager couple, you know! “
you successfully pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her body. “ feels like we are when i’m with youu~ “ you coo, puckering your lips at her with teasing intent.
anya blocks your lips with her palm and you immediately lick at it. she gasps and retracts her hand away, allowing you the opportunity to topple her over and kiss all over her pretty face and pouty lips.
“ hehe, (name)! “
once you’re done with your barrage, you bury your face into her neck.
“ marry me once me and you become doctors, anya~ ” you croon, melting into her body.
there’s a momentary pause before her smiling voice responds to you, full of adoration,
“ of course. i wouldn’t have it any other way, (name).”
??? ??¿ is it finally over ??¿!
your eyes peel open, a surge of sharp pain and confusion shoots through your body like a needle. but, once your gaze immediately locks onto the woman you love above you, your heart calms a little. she doesn’t notice that you’re now awake and stares off into somewhere with brooding eyes.
“ a-anya? “
anya’s eyes widen and she snaps her gaze down at you in surprise as your head is currently laid on her lap. tears swell in the corner of her reddened eyes.
“ y-you’re awake again! i-i thought you were finally. .”
despite not being able to move your body from the waist under and through the pain pounding in your head, you smile weakly at her.
“ f-finally what? i-i told you i’ll come back to you. although. . .“ your eyes search the dim setting around you. it’s blurred and bright. it seems like you and anya are in the medical? didn’t you come back from medical after checking up on curly?
c o n f u s i o n
“ why aren’t we in bed? we’re in medical right now. . “
anya’s lips trembles as she struggles to not cry.
“ we’ve decided to rest in here and talk like we’re a bored teenage couple. “
you let out a weak laugh. “ r-really? my br-brain is all over the place right now. everything is starting to feel and look fuzzy. “
your eyes starts to dilate and unfocus but they never leave anya. she says nothing, and quietly caresses your cheek.
your skin has become more discolored while you were unconscious.
how many hours?
how many hours has it been since she locked herself with you and captain? and how many times has her thoughts endlessly ponder and ponder over jimmy’s words he once said to her months back?
t a k e c a r e o f i t
“ a-anya. .? “
anya forces out a smile. her quivering fingers brush away the sweaty hair sticking to your forehead.
my hands are s h a k i n g.
“ . .y-yes? “ anya can barely contain the heartbreak in her voice.
“ w-we’ll take of it together. “ you slurred, “ o-once i get my l-license, i’ll support us and you don’t need to w-worry about a thing. o-once the baby is born, i’ll take care of them while you st-study to get into medical school again. i-i’ll. .even help you. .too. i st-still have my. .notes. “
dark red liquid seeps down your nose. she sees the light becoming dull in your dilated (e/c) hues that she adored so much.
the external bleeding and swelling in your head is pulling you under.
a quiet sob slips from her throat and she gently brings your head up to her chest. her body shudders as she weeps.
there’s a few broken whimpers that sounds far too strangled to be hers or yours.
“ . . d-don’t cry, an. .ya, i. .i’m just g-gonna sleep. y. .you holding. .me like this. .makes me feel at ease. .i. .can finally sleep. .without. .leaving. .ou. .”
your eyes vanish behind discolored eyelids and your head slack against her.
and there’s a gaping hole akin to a black hole that swallows everything that bounded her down, her dreams, her hopes, her love, her fear, her emotions.
what’s left is reason—a reason to the best decision that anya alone can finally act.
with a strangely calm mind and red-rimmed solemn grey eyes, she glances up at the few bottles of pills now left on the desk.
you know you’re better than this.
m a k e n o m i s t a k e , t h i s i s n ‘ t m y w o r s t m o m e n t.
far from it. this is the best decision i’ll ever make.
i’ll take care of it.
everything’s black—but you hear banging, voices, bottles rattling, pained whimpering and strangled noises that sounds similar to a heartbroken man crying.
you slip back into momentary consciousness. through blurred vision, you see a slumped figure above you. you can’t identify who it is but red smears leaves a bit of a hard contrast to your unfocused eyes. without thinking, your feeble hand reach out and you’re only able to make contact with their chin, just with the tips of your fingers.
from one small touch, you can tell the skin long since lost its warmth and now is cold to the touch.
an unknown sorrow strikes your chest and you finally pass with a heart full of confusion, leaving it in a headlock.
449 notes · View notes
miraclewoozi · 1 year ago
Text
DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs
Tumblr media
the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it. 
pairing ; vernon x gn!reader.  content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3
Tumblr media
“What was your first kiss like?”
Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song. 
All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong. 
But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.
“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”
You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”
“Oh.” 
He was right. 
“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”
He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all. 
“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”
You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say. 
“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position. 
“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air. 
You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”
He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done. 
Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal. 
Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present. 
“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”
You snort. 
“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you. 
He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?
“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember. 
You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”
“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.  
He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter. 
You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again. 
He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary. 
The urge to just… lean in to you. 
It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—
Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—
“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees. 
True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.
But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?
“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again. 
“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.
“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”
“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”
He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly. 
Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.
“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop. 
It’s… devastatingly cute.
“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.
“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”
Tumblr media
It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday. 
He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare. 
Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once. 
He swears. 
“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”
Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)
“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”
His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure. 
“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting. 
“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway. 
You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t. 
Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.
And yet—
“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances. 
Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.
You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise. 
When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that. 
His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come. 
Eight seconds later… still nothing. 
“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”
“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”
It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light. 
“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”
It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”
“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”
You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug. 
His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again. 
You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?” 
“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”
“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue. 
“That was one time!”
“One time too many.”
“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“
You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before. 
He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.
“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”
“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”
He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip. 
“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter. 
“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”
You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh. 
Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair. 
He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop. 
Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders. 
Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help. 
“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place. 
“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”
When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head. 
“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…
He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”
“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?
He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in. 
I love them. Thank you, you said. 
It’s perfect. 
He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.
“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”
Tumblr media
Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double. 
He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.
“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.
“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead. 
“I don’t know-…”
“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”
Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”
Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.
Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue. 
On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.
“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”
Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose. 
“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.
But… It's too late. 
Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to. 
And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are. 
Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob. 
Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum. 
But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him. 
Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen. 
Tumblr media
It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door. 
Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important. 
You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.
When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair. 
You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath. 
“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright. 
“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”
“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”
He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened. 
“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head. 
His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop. 
“He what?”
Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together. 
He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said. 
I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)
So… you were in love. 
With someone who wasn’t him. 
He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt.  And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.
Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.
“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”
You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”
Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before. 
“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”
Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.
“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”
Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?
He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder. 
“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”
You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”
You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it. 
“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”
He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush. 
“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head. 
“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth. 
It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you. 
He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too. 
“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”
With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure. 
“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together. 
Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try. 
But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could. 
“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down. 
He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better. 
When you bumped your head in the playground, the same. 
He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved. 
And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person. 
“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”
Tumblr media
He’s so proud of you.
Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say. 
[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]
Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here. 
He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no. 
[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]
[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]
So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.
With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline. 
Not enough, but some. 
With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin. 
7. 6. 5.
The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky. 
Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?
4. 3.
Maybe I don’t need to see in colour. 
2.
For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough. 
1.
Happy New Year. 
As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes. 
For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you. 
You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”
“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow… 
Like you’re searching for something that might not be there. 
He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you. 
You could do it, his brain tells him. 
So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter? 
But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside. 
One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.
He’s happy, though. It’s like you said. 
Being in love is enough.
Tumblr media
“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in. 
He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”
In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule. 
His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all. 
But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday. 
To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you. 
You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change. 
This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. 
The pouting continued. 
Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table. 
All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right? 
He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling. 
“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together. 
“This way.”
You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features. 
“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”
You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road. 
“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.
“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess, 
He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks. 
You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer. 
“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”
“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks. 
“Close your eyes.”
You know.
Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick. 
“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.
“You really think so?”
“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”
Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?
He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone. 
“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.
“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”
“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”
Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.
It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own. 
He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block. 
Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…
“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths. 
“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.
You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…
There it all is, when you finally pull away.
Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too. 
“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”
A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again. 
“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”
Tumblr media
thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3
1K notes · View notes
court-jobi · 4 months ago
Text
For Your Eyes Only
Tumblr media
💥Poll Reveal: Birthday Special💥
Pairing: Bakugou x tattooed!reader (fitting theme for biker!reader, no?)
Words: 2.2k
Rating: 18+ (heavy smexy insinuations near the end)
Warnings: NSFWish, reunited lovers, partial undressing, body worship, tattoos, possessive!Bakugou, basically foreplay, implied sexual touch, reunited and it feels so good
Summary:
Someone's missed their Pro-Hero while he's been off lighting up villains for seven weeks straight. The meantime does gives you the brilliant idea for a gorgeous new tattoo, though... all for your darling hero as a birthday present while he's away on mission, so you can keep the freshly inked secret close to your chest. Pretty nice surprise waiting for Bakugou to unwrap when he gets home, yeah?
A/N: Remember THIS POLL? Y'all gave me some splendid direction, thanks so much to everyone who voted! Might still very well run with some leftover ideas and make another fic for our other recipient (Birdie Boy Hawks), but hope you enjoy the winner~
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on Ao3
"Ready for a surprise?"
Shrugging off his shoulder strap, Bakugou stares after you in snarky disbelief. He hasn’t even taken his shoes off yet, dammit. Still, he can’t help but smile.
"Hmm a surprise, huh? Takes a lot to surprise me, sweet thing…"
"Oh, I think I've done it this time,” you swing your hips on your way to the kitchen. “You haven't noticed it yet in all our calls- though I guess you haven't really had much chance to, lately."
"Tch– don't remind me,” he toes off his travel shoes by the table. “This whole ‘secret agent’ bullshit took way longer than I thought it would- been dying to get back to you. Haven't talked to you in days, or had decent reception enough to look at a photo in weeks; forget anything else. Speaking of…c’mere you.”
Bakugou slinks towards you, though you back up away from him, tugging your yukata taught from the back so he couldn't make a grab for it.
“What’re you runnin’ way for, heh??”
"Not letting you spoil it so fast there, babe~!”
You hop onto the kitchen counter with a couple careful adjustments to the overlapping ends of your robe, –sweet, sexy appeal coating your words.
"If you're gonna unwrap it, you've got to have a good view."
Bakugou teased the tip of his canines with an appreciative chuckle.
"You're my present, are ya?"
"Something like that."
Bakugou eyed you over with sneaky wonder. What on earth could you be hiding. 
His attention trailed down your legs- socked, but otherwise bare. He steps closer to you, wedging between your legs with a forceful jut of his hips, and cups your jaw into a long, starved kiss. You won't be getting out from under his grasp anytime soon, he's makin’ damn sure of that. 
It’s not your first kiss since Bakugou’s arrival through the door, but deeper than that quickie peck you'd given him at first sight. You’d hugged him tight around the neck in perfect bliss after such a long separation– only to dart away, killing any of his plans to never let you go. 
That long-awaited kiss of greeting was kept painfully brief by Bakugou’s standards– followed immediately by your retreat to the kitchen, where you’re now acting the most secretive you ever have in your entire relationship. 
He'd be crushed if he wasn't so confused. 
Parting, he rumbles directly into your waiting mouth.
"What are you up to, pretty?"
"No funny business. Just a great surprise." 
You’re toying with his hoodie’s knotted ends, cinching and uncinching the knots and seeking shy permission to strip him. Bakugou lets you, shedding his pullover that reeks of airport and leaving him in the black compression shirt he could trademark- wrinkled, half-rucked up his abs, and perfect.
To his surprise, you seem pleased enough with this level of undress and stop tugging on him altogether. At the moment where he’d expected you to slip his pants loose next, you merely push him back into place between your knees. Doing so allows the space to scoot just so towards the edge of the counter. 
You brace back on your palms, posture up and cutting your sights down to where his hands trail across your waist: he’s calculating your moves for hints, few as they are.
"Go on and open it."
Bakugou's brow still worked together as he fought his edging smile. 
What on earth could this be? His first best guess would be something sexy to wear, but he honestly finds that pointless since nothing lasts that long on you, anyhow. A laced-up view would be the most mouthwatering sight for the man who’s been starved of you for seven straight weeks… but he reckons this has to hold bigger shock factor. 
Following your lead and gentle instruction, Bakugou sweeps an eager hand back with a jerk to untie your sash and then bends over to divide the curtain of your kimono to your hips, granting him the sweet heat of your calves, knees, thighs, and-- 
Bakugou's jaw goes slack.
Atop your left leg, creased at the flesh of your hip lay his intended surprise: a fully realized tattoo of gorgeous black and grayed ink. 
The center of it all bore a gorgeously stylized pawprint -left empty of pigment for contrast- digging in slightly to the flesh, deliciously possessive, as if the full body were howling its word of ‘mine’ into the night. 
Claiming its territory. Guarding its beloved.
Naturally, the design didn't stop there. The paw and its indentions laid surrounded by a burst of swirls and sparks resembling firework patterns: some as sunbursts, some as residual trails of light intermixing with haze. The most notable hailed the shape of ‘Dynamight’s fanned accents– mimicking the rays of the earth’s brightest star– known by just about every folklore believer for strength and victory.
This shading is impeccable: saturated to perfection and a gorgeous display of artistry. There are billows of ombre smoke that spread throughout the design, creating a nebulous effect throughout the background, leaning into uncanny imagery of a certain someone’s quirk.
Each element features his take on ‘lucky charms’~ branded right there on your skin. 
The symbol was divine… and for a man with a faster tongue unafraid to speak his mind, Bakugou has no words.
Dumbstruck and in utter awe, Bakugou's fingers trail in slow motion towards your newest addition of skin ink. He releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding back, crouching subconsciously to one side, revealing more and more skin with the lift of the kimono. The hipband of your underwear cut off the very spiky peak of a spark, but it didn't hide much of the body of the tattoo- all was plenty visible from the hip, down your thigh.
You sneak in a cautious breath with proud anticipation, drinking in Bakugou's every soft reaction. A little huff escapes your nose seeing your partner’s mouth hung open from the moment he locks sight of your leg– sights which have never parted since. 
Not to speak, not to swallow, barely to blink.
"Happy birthday, Katsuki~" you nearly sing.
Finally, Bakugou tears himself from his trance to lock into your brilliant eyes, their bright points muted in this low light by the kitchen window.
"When-- hah- ho-?"
"You were gone almost two months, honey," you reminded with a twinge of sultry pride. "Once you got orders on the op, I booked the outline, then another session for the fill. Healed up just in time for you to come crashing in the door."
With your non-balancing hand, you twine your fingers over his, swiping over the lower half of the tattoo. The movement matches the curve of the curling tufts of smoke laid there.
Bakugou follows as you move his hand along by your guidance, leading him lazily until you trace it down to the bottom, not wanting to cover up anything.
Taking a slow knee to study it with careful hands cupping your thighs, you coo light in your chest with a loving stroke on your hero’s arm as Bakugou gets comfortable on his knees.
"This-- this is days worth of work, for you.." Bakugou muttered breathlessly.
"‘Bout three full days, start to finish. Larza did such a good job, didn’t they." you beam, crediting your artist. With a little sparkle, you hedge your newly revealed excitement, "--Do you like it?"
Bakugou's squint through his surprised joy was adorable- though he'd deny ever resembling anything close to the word.
"Sweet’eart... S'fucking gorgeous."
His weak slack-jawed look turned into a grin, which drives up into a breathless laugh. 
But Bakugou is not done marveling yet…
You rake through his wild hair lovingly, doubling the intimate experience. 
“Three days,” he husks, "That's a long time, angel. You stayed so still for this one- there's not a stroke outta place."
Recounting each of your other tattoos that lie either on both your arms or other bits of tender skin, this piece held significantly more ‘natural cushion’ to work with.
"Probably hurt the least of any of them, honestly. M'not gonna lie n’ say it was a breeze near the hip..but hell, was the finished product worth it."
At this, Bakugou finally shows an emotion other than ‘want’- a flash of concern tents his brow and firms his lips as he lifts up to you.
You could laugh about it now; all discomfort is long gone after the insanely prickly healing process.
"Not too much of course! Just the usual. But the itching- oof, that wasn't funny. Had to hide out here for the first two days- couldn't wear any clothes over it yet. Just me, your pillow, my Kindle, and a vat of lotion to keep me from going out of my mind from the blistering. N’ I couldn’t handle talking to you, or else y-"
“-You faked a head cold, you crafty little DUMBASS!!” 
Bakugou pieced together your ‘random’ excuse for those days when he’d tried to touch base with you.
The sidenote of spending that much time alone -wearing next to nothing- sends Bakugou reeling into lust again in a heartbeat; all while you giggle at your successful ruse. 
Gifts to your lifemate have all carried meaning and touched on every part of his identity. Whether it was a symbol of your connection, or a splurge that he’d been pining for but far too tight-fisted to award himself, you stepped in and would take extra care into a special, well-thought out present on these occasions you felt were worth celebrating– even if he’d sooner forget. 
Bakugou’s arrival home landing on his birthday was a true afterthought to him; but not to you. 
Your skin laid newly adorned with more stunning art– but more notably, laid nearly bare under his hands. Right where he craved them, and right where he could smell your very essence - just a little closer. 
It’s no secret how much he loves every inch of you -inside and out- and in every curve and crevasse… and it’s here that his brain clicks together why you’d sat so precariously on the counter now.
Bakugou thanks you with his whole chest, the lovesick aura glowing even more beautiful with its rawness.
"This is absolutely beautiful- I love it, baby,” your striking boyfriend declares the impact your gift has had on him, "Fuck me, this is-- first the rings, then the new gauntlets, now this?"
"Well, anyone can see those first two in broad daylight,” you sass… then softer, “This one's just for you, Kats..."
"Damn right it is," Bakugou leans down, eyeing you before laying a euphoric kiss on the tip of your hipbone.
Heated lips kiss the same spot again, slower this time. Then another, further down. And again, and again- covering the art with wet lovemarks. You've moisturized the tattoo expertly, treating it with an essence of mango and verbena filling his senses– and a light coconutty taste, as he'd learned from the last time you'd gotten one done on your shoulder. 
Passing over the wolf’s claws, Bakugou bared his teeth ever so much, rumbling a happy growl to make you laugh- then moan. Pleasure, adoration, obsession.
With a flash of crimson up to you,  Bakugou hungered low and deeper still,
"Sounds like torture, angel. Don't know how you invite that sorta pain over and over…” 
Affected by his slow worship along your leg, you subconsciously tuck that leg in; anything to give him more space to cover, make sure nothing is missed.
“I keep tellin’ ya, it's not too bad. You’d look pretty hot with some ink, yourself.”
While the man disagrees with a playful sarcasm, his respect for both your thoughtfulness -and pain tolerance- is enough to get him hard.
Bakugou fantasizes about the whole process: taking a wildly rapid pen to you, laid on your side naked from the waist down, drawn u[on as a living, breathing canvas… all with the sole intention to be marked for his eyes only, forever. 
Three whole days.. Bakugou mulls over the work you’ve done. The statement you’ve made with this gift. The proud look in your eyes that doesn’t regret a single stroke, and has chosen to celebrate its claim on your body by giving him full rights to every inch of you…
“Wasn’t even ‘ere to hold your hand through it…” Bakugou offers sweetly. He would have been at your side, had he not been off saving the world yet again. 
A touch of dominance comes through his observation, eliciting a delightful reaction he knows will follow. You affirm; giving a sweet, pliant moan of agreement, while you shake your head in a ‘no’ for your past loneliness. You’re ordinarily plenty self-sufficient even in his absences, but play the role of the left-behind lover adorably well.
While one powerful hand teases needy fingers over the seam of your underwear with the intent to rip them off and another reaches for your ankle with plans to chuck it over his shoulder, the birthday boy relishes in the sights, sounds, and feel of you already–
“...I should make up for your troubles now, shouldn't I?” Bakugou rumbles like spring’s telltale thunder in front of your core, ready and waiting to taste, “Gotta thank you properly, yeah?"
189 notes · View notes
bloodyserratus · 1 year ago
Text
get fucked
pairing: toji x fem!reader x sukuna word count: 4.1k synopsis: toji & sukuna fuck the living daylights out of you... themes/warnings: pwp, smut, MDNI, threesome, piv, degradation, praise, double penetration, oral, fingering...this is pretty explicit. they're both huge... i feel like they're both kind of ooc.
Tumblr media
“Miss us?” Toji sneered as he stepped out in front of you, intersecting your path.
“Can’t say I did, Fushiguro,” you smiled sarcastically at him. The dark-haired male towered over you, lips turning down at the corners.
“That’s too bad,” his partner in crime, Sukuna, chuckled as he appeared behind you.
“What do you want?” you sighed.
These two had been bothering you for a couple of weeks now. They were your local, neighborhood delinquents who liked to frequent the restaurant that you worked at. You knew they were in some shady line of work, but had decided to just mind your own business. Aside from some crass flirting and lingering touches at work, they’d never done much to bother you. Today, though, following you on your way home was now escalating to a level that had you concerned.
“Can’t we just pay a visit to our favorite girl?” Toji’s lips curled up at the corners as he raked his eyes over you.
“Favorite girl my ass,” you rolled your eyes and laughed. “Come on,” you glanced at Sukuna, who had crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“What’s with the reaction?” Sukuna cocked his head at you, hiding his surprise.
“At best, I’ll be the next target of your bullying,” you rolled your eyes at the pair of delinquents, “At worst, I’m your plaything of choice for the next month or so. I have interest in neither, so I suggest you consider someone else.”
It should be easy enough. Though their personalities were more or less garbage, they were good looking and well built.
“You’re a smart one,” Sukuna chuckled, advancing on you, “You must be able to guess, though, that part of your appeal is the fight,” he reasoned, sarcastic words curling around your ear. Toji approached from the other direction until you were sandwiched between their chests.
“Tell us, pretty girl,” Toji chuckled, chest vibrating against yours, “Tell us you know that.”
Your breaths were choppy as they both pressed against you, overwhelming you with their size.
“I-,” you panted, chest tightening as they jostled you, hoping to get a rise out of you.
You placed your hands against Toji’s chest and pushed, trying to put some distance between you. It did not work.
��Wha-?!” you blinked in surprise when Toji lifted you up so that your feet were off the ground and pressed back into you, suspending you mid air against Sukuna. They both snickered as you realized your predicament.
“Why me?” you tried to ask, but your voice caught and trailed into a small moan as Toji’s leg slotted itself between your thighs, pressing against your core.
“Hmm,” his eyebrows rose with delight at the sound.
“There it is,” Sukuna snickered as his lips brushed against your neck.
You shuddered as he nibbled his way up the curve of your neck. Your hands shot out and gripped Toji’s biceps when Sukuna nipped sharply at your earlobe. Toji and Sukuna’s eyes met and a dangerous spark passed between them before Sukuna’s hands closed around your waist. To your surprise, they both stepped away and Sukuna placed you back on the ground before they vanished as suddenly as they had appeared.
“What the fuck?” you huffed, straightening yourself out.
You groaned and laid your forehead on the desk. You'd been working on holiday scheduling for the next three weeks and after cataloging all of the vacations everyone had submitted for, your brain was fried. You turned to pack up your things and head home and you’d been so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice people had entered your room until you turned back to face the door. 
“Look what we found, Toji,” Sukuna grinned down at you.
“Look what we found indeed,” Toji smiled, cocky.
“What do you want?” you asked, body tensing at the sight of them and the memory of last time.
“More like…who do we want,” Toji smiled. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes promised something dark.
“Again…why me?” you asked, putting up a brave front, but you could already feel yourself responding to their presence. Recollections of the way they had overpowered you so easily had graced your dreams, day and night, a few times already.
“Something about you,” Sukuna considered you for a moment, “I want to see it break.”
Your eyebrows raised and despite your rational mind, you clenched at his words.
“I or we?” you couldn’t help but tease, “You guys really can’t do anything yourselves, huh? Always a package deal.”
Sukuna’s eyes flashed at you and you almost took a step back. His eyes were sharp and a strand of hair hung in front of them. You swallowed nervously…
“Have you been thinking about us, pretty girl?” Toji purred while Sukuna locked the room’s door. “You seem less difficult today.”
“Why would I be?” you asked politely, “Thinking about you, that is.”
“Because of the way you were panting, holding back your moans the last time we saw you,” Toji leaned down to whisper in your ear. His lips brushed against the shell and your mouth fell open with surprise. “Like a bitch in heat,” he laughed, condescending as hell.
“Oh get fucked!” you moved to strike him. Mistake.
“That's right,” Toji chuckled as he caught your wrist in his large hand easily. “You’re more of a hellcat than a bitch, aren’t you?”
You tried to pull away, but in all ways you were at a disadvantage. Toji lifted his arm and yours went with it. He was tall enough that this stretched you out uncomfortably and you were balanced on the tips of your toes. Your other hand moved reflexively for balance and it planted itself squarely on Toji Fushiguro’s firm chest. Your hand fisted in his shirt as he jerked you around, playing with you.
“You like this, don’t you?” Sukuna narrowed his eyes as he watched. Your mouth was agape and your eyes had grown slightly glossy at the way Toji disrespected you. He had to credit you…you’d managed to keep your sounds down, but everything else about your body language was so clear…you were turned on.
“Answer him, pretty,” Toji commanded and you looked up at him with begging eyes. “We all know the answer anyways, just want to hear you say it.”
You glared at him. You would never.
“So stubborn,” Toji’s voice was a low rumble against your fist, “Hope you know that I like that,” he grinned at you, backing you onto the desk.
“I wonder,” Sukuna cocked his head suddenly and placed a sharp nail against your neck. Dragged the pointed tip down to your collarbone and you shivered at the pain. “Still won’t admit it?” he goaded you, pressing and the tip bit deeper into your skin, just shy of breaking it.
“Pretty girl,” Toji gripped your chin and lifted it to meet his piercing eyes. “Answer us and we’ll give you what you need.”
As rough Toji liked to be, he wasn’t one to take without some indication of consent. Your eyes searched his and you must’ve seen or realized this because one of the coils in your stomach loosened with some sort of relief.
“...want,” you sighed, body sagging as you finally gave in.
“Oh you good girl, you,” Sukuna was at your back in a flash, hands running up your sides, grabbing and groping freely.
You moaned softly as Toji’s fingers traced along your inner thigh. You squirmed when they met your center and found it hot and wet.
“Dirty girl,” he snickered and rubbed, drawing a strangled cry from you.
“To-Toji,” you groaned, legs parting for him as Sukuna squeezed your tits harshly.
“Sukuna,” you panted when he squeezed your nipples through the fabric of your shirt. You were overwhelmed.
“She is dripping,” Toji laughed, caressing you through your panties. “I knew you’d be perfect,” he remarked smugly.
“Please,” your hips shifted desperately towards him, needing him to take more.
“Please what?” Sukuna cooed in your ear.
“More!” was all you could manage as Toji pushed your panties aside and stroked his fingertips lazily through your folds. The wet sounds brought heat to your face as you whined for him.
“We can give more,” Toji held your gaze, serious for a moment. “But if it’s too much, how will you tell us?”
“Safe word?” you answered, finding it difficult to focus when he grazed your clit repeatedly.
“And what is your safe word, pretty girl?” Toji asked.
“Sp-split Soul,” you stuttered out when your nipples were tweaked gently. Toji’s eyes widened a splinter at your answer.
“Aren’t you making your favorite a bit too obvious?” Sukuna teased upon hearing the name of Toji’s cursed tool, though he didn’t mean much by it.
“Fascinating,” Toji looked you over from head to toe one more time before he slid two fingers inside of you, drawing a loud cry from your lips. His knuckles stroked against you and you clenched around him, panting.
“She’s crying,” Sukuna chuckled, watching your eyes go glassy as Toji finger fucked you deeply. Sukuna’s large hands cupped your breasts and his fingers tweaked your nipples every so often as he nibbled on your neck.
“Wait, I-!” your eyes shot open as an orgasm barreled through you. Your body tensed in their hands and Toji’s fingers continued to curl up into you until the knot uncoiled you threw your head back with a loud wail. Sukuna’s chest was there to support your sagging body as you watched Toji lick your arousal off of his fingers.
“My turn,” Sukuna announced, shifting to take Toji’s place between your legs. His hands stroked down your inner thighs and his nails dragged deliciously along the soft, delicate skin. He watched with sadistic pleasure as it left long, red lines behind.
Toji took a seat behind you and palmed himself through his pants as he watched Sukuna’s handiwork. He throbbed at the marks and he thought about leaving a few marks of his own. His eyes widened with interest when Sukuna turned his hand around and tapped the backs of his knuckles, littered with rings, against your clit.
All of your muscles tensed at the sensation of cold metal against your hot, swollen clit and you let out a sound that was halfway between a squeal and a moan. Sukuna chuckled cruelly and kept up an erratic pattern until your back was arching up off of the table.
“Ha, hah, hah!” your soft pants were all that could be heard as Sukuna edged you mercilessly. “Sukuna, please!” you finally cried when you felt on the brink of insanity. You were surprised at the feral noise that escaped you when he stepped back and away, leveling you with a cruel smirk.
“Desperate little thing,” he chuckled and the way he peered disdainfully down at you shot a jolt of electric energy through you.
“Toji?” you looked towards the other man in the room hopefully. Your pupils dilated when you realized he was thrusting his hips, cock rubbing through the fabric of his pants against his palm. “Toji…,” you moaned, your voice dreamy and almost slackjaw at the visual.
“You sure know how to get what you want, don’t you?” Sukuna laughed heartily, helping you upright.
“May I?” you approached Toji, dropping to your knees before him.
“Polite when you need to be,” Toji rolled his eyes at you and shared a laugh with Sukuna.
You grinned and busied yourself with unearthing his erection. It was thick and heavy and tipped just slightly forward unassisted. You sighed with delight when you saw it, which served as a real shot to Toji’s ego.
“What a good little slut,” Sukuna chuckled, taking a seat. Unlike Toji, he had no desire to exercise restraint and pulled himself out of his pants, stroking eagerly.
Toji hissed when you closed your mouth around him. So wet and warm. The visual of your lips pursed around his shaft as you sucked gently was almost dizzying to him and he found himself gritting his teeth, trying to stay level. You were so singularly focused on lapping at his cock that you jolted with surprise when Sukuna smacked your cheek suddenly.
“Spit,” he demanded, his palm outstretched before you. You blinked up at him in surprise for so long that he slapped you lightly again. “I said spit.”
When he was satisfied, he brought his hand back to his cock, using your saliva as lubrication. You were embarrassed that the realization only served to turn you on more. Toji cleared his throat, grabbing your attention again. You moved to put your mouth back on him and you were surprised when he stopped you.
“Why don’t you sit?” he gestured to his shining erection with an expectant look. He had to hold back a smile at the way your expression grew hungry and dazed at the same time. You peeled off your panties and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He offered you no help and instead leaned back and watched with lazy eyes as you positioned him at your opening.
“You’re too big,” your eyes flashed to him with mild annoyance. Your knees spread as you tried to lower yourself onto him with little success. Toji kept up his poker face as you clenched and gripped around his engorged tip. Finally after some desperate bucking of your hips, he popped into you, stretching you almost painfully around his girth. “Fuuck,” you whined, lips pursed as your eyes squeezed shut.
“My god she’s fucking tight,” Toji remarked to Sukuna through gritted teeth.
“Good thing you went first then, huh?” Sukuna taunted.
Toji’s lip twitched in response, but he didn’t say anything because you were doing your best to take more of him.
“Oh my god, Toji,” you mumbled mindlessly as you worked your way down, lips stretched taut around his shaft. At the very least, you were soaked and dripping, but his sheer size was still a challenge. You weren’t sure if Sukuna was just trying to get a rise out of Toji, but the possibility of him being even bigger made you feel faint.
“Are you struggling, kitty?” Toji teased, lips curled up into a smirk. “My cock too fat for our little whore?”
“You're big!” you gasped out, with a nod. “It doesn't, it barely fits,” you whined, but not because you wanted to stop. It was because you wanted Toji to drive up into you, punishing and hard.
Toji watched, proud at the way you struggled to split yourself open around you. You struggled and yet you persisted and he found himself admiring that. 
“Shall I take over?” Toji cupped your chin and brushed his thumb across your cheek. You nodded eagerly and he flexed his hips up into you and you moaned even louder than before. The way he pushed into you was simply divine. His rhythm was slow and deep as you grew accustomed to it.
“How is it, pretty girl?” Sukuna surprised you when he came up behind you. His hands closed around your hips and he pressed you further down on Toji’s cock, drawing hisses from both of you. “Does he feel good?”
“Asshole,” Toji spat at Sukuna when he pressed against your cervix and you clamped down around him.
You couldn’t even manage an answer as Toji’s cock was stuffed into you deeper than you thought possible. Sukuna was unrelenting and held you in place as Toji’s hips jerked reflexively up into you.
“Fuck!” Toji cursed, his orgasm incoming.
“Come on,” Sukuna taunted. “You’ve been wanting to fill her up for a while now, just do it.”
“Wha-?” you struggled to comprehend Sukuna’s words, but Toji’s cock jerked strongly inside of you and you squeezed back reflexively.
Toji inhaled a few ragged breaths as he came, unloading deep inside of you with Sukuna pinning you down.
“Look at you,” Sukuna snickered cruelly, hand cupping your chin and tilting your head to face him. “Filled with Fushiguro’s cum,” he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.
You were surprised at the gesture.
“Do you let just anybody fuck you raw?” Sukuna taunted, leering at you. You narrowed your eyes at him, god he gave you whiplash.
“Do you just go around fucking anybody raw?” you bit back and Toji chuckled.
“Guess Fushiguro was too soft on you, cause this bitch ain't broken yet,” Sukuna barked out a laugh. “My turn,” his eyes glinted at you before he pulled you off of Toji’s lap.
Sukuna forced you to your knees and smacked the heavy head of his cock against your cheek. You glared up at him defiantly.
“Can’t wait to see those eyes water as you glare at me,” he sneered, hooking his thumb into your mouth and yanking it open. You let out a noise of surprise, but it was quickly muffled by his cock being shoved unceremoniously between your lips.
“God that’s a sinful little mouth,” Sukuna groaned when your lips closed around him, enveloping him in your wet warmth. “Shut this mouthy little slut right up,” he snickered as you sucked.
Toji settled in behind you and snaked his arms around you. One looped around your waist and the other reached between your thighs. Your lips squeezed around Sukuna’s head when Toji’s palm landed a slap squarely against your cunt, like a hammer against your clit. Sukuna’s hand shot out around the back of your neck and pulled you forward until he was lodged against the back of your throat. You moaned loudly as both men ground against you, your wet, drooly holes.
“Fuck that’s tight!” Sukuna hissed when you relaxed your throat and let him slip inside. Toji’s hand moved from your waist to cup your throat, feeling the way it bulged to accommodate Sukuna.
“Hah…I can feel him,” he whispered in your ear as his fingers dipped into your pussy, pushing his cum back inside.
You whimpered and clenched at his observation. Your whimper was muffled by Sukuna’s cock, but your clench was easily felt by Toji’s thick fingers. Toji’s lips curled up into a sadistic grin and the hand around your throat tightened and Sukuna’s knees almost buckled.
“Fucking shit!” he glared at Toji after pulling out, leaving you gasping for breath in his firm grip.
Toji’s chest rumbled with laughter, pleased to be able to get the best of Sukuna for a turn. Despite yourself, it pleased you to hear Toji laugh. Something about the both of them using you to toy with each other made you swell with pride.
“Keep playing, Fushiguro,” Sukuna spat venomously, pulling you up by a fistful of hair. He bent you forward over the table and flipped your skirt up, rubbing his cock along your dripping length. “Watch me fuck your cum out of her,” he snarked before sliding into you in one fluid motion.
“Ohh~!” you cried as you stretched around Sukuna. You weren’t sure if he was actually bigger or you were just sensitive, but the feeling had you clawing at the tabletop like a feral cat.
“How’s that feel, baby?” he grunted as he pounded into you harshly. Your hips clipped against the edge of the table painfully with each thrust and his balls slapped wetly against you.
“G-good,” you cried.
“Better than Fushiguro?” he goaded and Toji’s eyebrows furrowed.
“I-,” you hiccuped, “I don’t know,” you answered honestly, tears welling up in your eyes as an orgasm approached. “Su-kuna,” you cried, back arching.
“Answer me, pretty girl,” Sukuna asked again, pupils dilating with satisfaction as he worked a creamy ring of Toji’s cum and your arousal around the base of his shaft. “Who do you prefer?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know! Both!” you cried as your body tensed and you came, thinking of the different ways in which they both used and ravaged your body.
“Did I say you could come?” Sukuna gripped you by the chin and pulled you up against him. He tipped your head back so that you could meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you realized your error quickly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” your eyebrows pinched with worry at what fresh hell he would unleash on you for this.
He surprised you by trailing his wet tongue across your cheek before licking into your open mouth. You clenched as he nipped your lips and then sucked your tongue into his mouth. Toji had already claimed your pussy by filling it with his cum and you understood this as Sukuna’s way of claiming your mouth for his own. You squirmed when he pulled back slightly and held your mouth open for him. His teeth ran across his tongue before he spit into your mouth. You shivered as you accepted his saliva eagerly. It was intimate, filthy, and wanton all at the same time.
“Fushiguro,” Sukuna’s eyes flicked to Toji’s as he picked you up, holding your back against his chest with surprising ease. “Get over here.”
Toji’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand Sukuna’s meeting.
“She said she wants both,” Sukuna chuckled, “Let’s see if she can take both.”
Your eyes widened at his words. You were already tired and sore, but something about these two gave you something to prove. You knew Sukuna didn’t expect you to be able to, which triggered something defiant and stubborn inside of you and you knew you wouldn’t back down.
“I can,” you insisted as Sukuna set you down on the small couch that was tucked against the wall of the room. He laughed at your show of confidence. You’d have to see.
“You gonna let me fuck that pretty ass, baby?” Toji’s voice was raspy from behind. “You so cock hungry that you need both of those holes filled?”
Perversion curled through you and your eyes flashed when you look at him and nodded. Toji was taken aback for a moment. It was true he’d had his eye on you for some time, but he had sorely underestimated you. He shifted behind you while you straddled Sukuna and his cock was screaming to be inside of you. You had dripped so much that he easily coated himself in your fluids. His eyes were transfixed as he pressed the dark head of his cock against your puckered sphincter. You let out a series of warm pants as Sukuna gripped your hips tightly.
“Wait,” you placed your hand on Toji’s abdomen, “Give me a sec?” you breathed hard as you tried to relax. You’d had difficulty accommodating Toji in your pussy, so anal was going to be an even bigger challenge, but you were determined.
“Take your time, pretty,” Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He held still as you pressed your hips back against him, stretching a little more each time around him. Watching the way you stretched yourself around him, from hesitant to eager, was dizzying to Toji in a way that he had not expected.
Sukuna reached up to stroke your face affectionately as you adjusted. He cooed praise up at you, telling you how good you were being for them, how sexy you looked taking both their cocks. Behind you, Toji egged you on with words of his own. How good your pretty hole looked stretched around him, how much more he had left to give you.
Your breaths were ragged as you pushed back, dragging him deeper and deeper into you.
“Almost there,” he encouraged, “To the hilt, baby, show me,” he watched proudly until you had taken him completely.
“Fuck,” you let out a sigh, eyes flickering between the two men. It surprised you to see satisfied smiles on both of their faces. This was short lived because before long, they both thrusting up into you alternately and all coherent thought left your mind.
The room was filled with grunts, pants, and the wet sounds of sex as they both pistoned their cocks into you. You were so full and so sore, but it was the most delicious pain that you had ever experienced.
“Close,” you murmured when you felt the coil in your belly constricting. “May I?” you asked.
“What a fast learner,” Sukuna clicked his tongue, pressing a kiss against your neck. “You’re doing so well…whenever you wish,” he nodded and Toji couldn’t agree more.
They fucked you and kept fucking you through two more orgasms. You briefly wondered if you might pass out, but their climax came mercifully and with heavy twitches and muttered curses, they emptied themselves into you. Their muscles unwound and relaxed post orgasm and you found yourself sandwiched pleasantly between their large bodies. You knew they were both notorious for sleeping around, but you wondered if they’d be up for a repeat. You needed more experience before you could declare a favorite, after all.
507 notes · View notes
ranscutedoll · 1 year ago
Text
Christmas Shenanigans
Rindou X Reader W.Count: ~500 Genre: Fluff
Tumblr media
Rindou appeared thoroughly unimpressed, a visible discontent etched on his face. "No. Absolutely not," he declared firmly.
"But Rinnieeeee," you pleaded, employing your most irresistible puppy-dog eyes. He sighed, casting a reluctant glance at the bag containing his Christmas present, then relented. How could he resist you?
"What am I going to do with you?" he sighed defeatedly, and you couldn't help but smile triumphantly.
"You'll love me forever and ever," you declared, sealing the statement with a sweet kiss on his cheek.
"But... Baby, I can't wear this," he attempted to negotiate.
"But... I bought these for you. I even got a matching pair. Don't you like them?" The hurt in your eyes was evident, yet Rindou, maintaining his tough exterior, hesitated to give in.
"No, of course, I love your present, darling. It's just... well..."
"Well, what?" you pressed, waiting for an explanation.
"Y/N, you do realize who I am, right?" he questioned, and you nodded in affirmation.
"So you understand that teddy bear-themed pyjamas aren't exactly my style, right?" His resolve wavered as he spoke, and he couldn't help but notice the tears welling up in your eyes.
"Rinnie... you do realize they are pyjamas, right? No one will see you in them? Plus... well," you said, looking away with embarrassment.
"Yes?" he inquired.
"I thought, well, that we could wear the PJs and have a date night at home, and cuddle... in matching... pyjamas..."
Rindou paused for a moment, feeling at a loss for words. How could you be this cute? Sighing, he closed his eyes, accepting his fate.
"Fine. But if anyone sees me—" Even though he sensed your desire to interrupt, he didn't let you.
"—hmm. Nope, let me finish! If anyone sees me in these, you'll have to do whatever I say for an entire week. Deal?" He extended his hand for you to shake.
"Rinnnnn, this isn't a good deal for me! Your brother will probably see you anyway."
"Rules are rules, love. Take it or leave it," he said with a smirk. Sighing in defeat, you shook his hand. Compromises were unavoidable, as you had already guessed.
As it turned out, Rindou ended up really loving the pajamas. He found them incredibly comfy and would often choose to wear them. Ran, however, had indeed seen him in his teddy bear PJs one morning when he came by while the two of you were still sleeping. The astonishment on his face told Rindou everything he needed to know.
"Not. A. Word."
"Wow, Brother! You are whipped!"
"Shut up, they're comfy."
"Whipped," Ran teased, to which Rindou sighed, but not before shouting for you, "Y/N! You lost the bet!"
------------ A/N: I wish everyone has nice holidays, Merry Christmas if you celebrate! If you don't, I hope you enjoy yourself regardless!
340 notes · View notes
simplyzeeka · 26 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Episode 4. Season 1
Empty Promises
Does your mind play this game too?
Think 'bout me and you?
I guess I'll just pretend, until it all makes sense
Hmm-mm-hmm, hmm-hmm
Warnings: MDNI!! Profanity, adult themes.
Summary: Lost charms and empty promises bring Syrae and Terry to a conclusion that mends a very heavy problem, which leaves Syrae gripping on hope that does nothing to soothe her worries.
Tumblr media
Previously on Something Seasonal
There's nothing Syrae hated more than losing things. She believed she was a careful and responsible person, wouldn't compromise her belongings to where they could get lost. And when she did lose something, it messed up the rest of her day, week he'll even months before it was found.
“Are you sure it ain't in your bag?” resonated Broisa's voice from the other end of the line.
Syrae balanced her phone between her head and shoulder as she filled her entire apartment upside down. “Didn't you just hear me say that it ain't?”
She snapped, dropping the pillow that rested in her clenched hands.
“Okay, calm down, Rae. We gon’ find it.” Broisa assured with a resigned sigh.
It had been days since Syrae lost the small and old charm she always kept with her. Broisa had yet to know the importance the charm held to Syrae, all she knew was that the woman always had it on her, and would flip everything upside down to find it, as she was at that moment.
Syrae could only exhale at the failed attempt of Broisa’s comfort. She plopped herself down on her sofa, resting her head in her hand. She let her fingers thread through her tangled coils, scratching against her scalp, flakes of dandruff collecting under her nails. She needed to wash her hair today.
“Let's talk bout somethin’ else. You coming to work today?” Syrae deflected.
Broisa hummed into the line, the sound of stirring against ceramic filling Syrae’s ears. Syrae concluded that she was making her afternoon tea. Broisa would drink tea in unbearable heat, and Syrae always judged her for that.
“Mhm, sure is. It's gon’ be busy tonight, might get more than a few bands tonight.”
Syrae nodded and hummed at that. It was a special event at the strip club. It was Randy's birthday, the owner of the club and Syrae’s boss.
“Girl yes, I might be able to get the place I been saving up for.”
His birthday bash was always something he threw every year. The club was usually packed because entrance fees were cheaper.
“Amen to that, hopefully I’ma get enough to move out of this shitty place.” Syrae hummed in agreement, her shoulder sagging in anticipation of that thought alone.
She’d been wanting to move out of her shitty apartment for some time now. Stripping only did so much to handle bills, especially with sixty percent of her earnings going to her boss. Getting a decent place was out of the picture.
While her apartment looked homey to the eyes, courtesy to Broisa’s love for decor, the place had many issues the landlord did not care about fixing.
“I been saying you could come stay with me, I got a spare bedroom.”
Syrae immediately shook her head and hummed a soft, yet polite, ‘no’. As much as Broisa’s place looked good, and the facilities were much better, Syrae always liked being in her own space. She had a routine for many things and living was someone completely foreign to her space would only compromise that. That, and the fact that she had more than a little sprinkle of pride that wouldn't allow for her to accept help from anyone, friend and foe alike.
“Don’t worry about me, girl. I almost got enough to cover three months. This night might just be the night.”
Broisa only sighed through the line, having heard that excuse many times from Syrae, the sentence damn near sounded like a chorus. All she could do was sip her tea vigorously to avoid letting her annoyance show from Syrae’s persistence at maintaining her prideful stance.
Despite them being friends for years, Broisa has failed time and time again from scratching beyond surface level with Syrae. And while she tries not to psychoanalyze the woman, it's extremely hard not to do so, given the dirt and bugs she’s given, barely anything fruitful.
The two women spent a little while longer on the phone before fell into their daily errands, and unfortunately for Syrae, that included fixing the leaking toilet in the bathroom
Tumblr media
It had been roughly twenty minutes and some change that Terry had spent on the treadmill. The gym was a little emptier than usual, which he wasn't complaining about, he needed the quiet to settle into his thoughts.
These past few days had been hard for him, work was stressful. One of his workers was dealing with loss, and while Terry gladly gave them some time off, it threw the routine in the workshop off balance and frankly, everything was a mess.
The air of his home clogged his throat, the mere smell of lavender was enough to bring a sting to his eyes, a persistent reminder of his unfaithfulness.
But among the lingering scent of his wife, a small, purple charm that laid on his coffee table did a much better job at adding to his never wavering guilt.
The kiss lasted for damn near an eternity, but every time their lips separated for some air,Terry couldn’t help but miss the taste of cherry and liquor on her tongue.
Hands wandered and lips locked intensively. Their hips ground against each other intentionally, creating delicious friction that did nothing to soothe the ache in their stomachs.
It wasn't enough, Terry was so close yet so far away. Syrae just needed him a little… only a little close, just to relieve the tightening in her stomach and stop the ache that grew in her heart.
Syrae’s hand moved down the thickness of her thighs, her hand covered the large one that squeezed her flesh, directing it closer to where she leaked and pined the most.
Terry complied, his hand fitting perfectly underneath her dress, gripping at the thin material of her lace underwear. Just as he was about to pull the material off her thighs, the sound of a door banging closed and the drunken laughter of a group of women startled the pair apart.
Terry wiped at the sides of his mouth, ridding his lips of the sheer lip gloss that once decorated Syrae’s lips.
With her head leaned against the wall, Syrae exhaled heavily, listening attentively as stumbling steps and loud chatter got softer.
The two remained apart, even after the group of women pong disappeared from their sight. Syrae couldn't find herself to look at Terry, and before he knew it, she stood straight and gathered her heels in her hands.
“Syrae-.” Terry began, already knowing what she was trying to do. He wouldn't watch her leave after what they just did. He Couldn't.
Syrae held a hand up and began walking off, tears filling the brim of her eyes as the intensity of the situation fell on her like a collapsing home, most especially Terry's
“Syrae!” Terry called out yet again, watching as she ran out of the alley before making a sharp turn. She was already too far, and he’s guilt wouldn't allow himself to follow her.
Terry hadn't felt like more of a coward than in that moment.
It wasn't until his gaze fell on the floor, back where she stood against the wall, until he noticed a small object on the floor.
Reluctantly, Terry picked it up, scrutinized the charm and made a mental connection. This belonged to Syrae.
And Terry hated how those bloody butterflies twisted at the ides of having another reason to see her. He hated how his heart jumped, believing this was another ‘opportunity’ presented to him.
He hated how no once did he think about Amber and the words he vowed to her.
But what Terry hated the most, is how his lips tingled in withdrawal, already in need of another fix of galaxies.
Flashback over
“Aye, Terry!” The green-eyed Adonis is called out of his daydream, forcing him off the treadmill before he fell.
“Yo, you good bro?” Yosohn asked with a frown on his face He had been calling Terry’s name a number of times, but the man seemed out of it.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Terry responded.
He stepped off the treadmill, wiping the sweat off his face with a towel he had hanging over the machine. Truthfully, he had forgotten that Yosohn accompanied him to the gym, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to even hold proper conversation with his friend.
“It don't seem like it, called your name like ten times.” he said, “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.” Terry insisted, his shoulder lifting and dropping before he took a sip of cold water. It did enough to cool his burning body from the intense workouts.
“Or should I say Who’s on your mind.” Yosohn raised a brow, What tone leading as assumption rolled off his tongue.
“What you tryna say?” Terry retorted, his brows dipping into his skin, creating ridges in the middle of his forehead as he stared at Yosohn, offended.
He turned his back to the other male, picking up a dumbbell in each hand, spreading his legs apart tobegin his bicep curls.
Yoshon smacked his lips, shaking his head at Terry’s incompetence and refusal to admit what was obvious to everyone. He moved to stand beside the taller male, leaning against the cold steel railing where blue yoga balls and dumbbells rested.
“Come on, T.” Yosohn began, “I’m not stupid.”
“Didn't say you were. I’m just a little confu-”
“Don’t give me that bullshit man, I’m talkin’ bout Syrae.” Yosohn interrupted, a deep mug on his face as his foot began tapping on the black, fitted carpet of the gym.
“What about her?” Terry grunted. While his focus seemed to be on the exercise, his mind ran at fifty per minute. Images of Syrae and what they shouldn't have done weighing heavy on his conscious. Sometimes if he thought hard enough, he could still taste her and a sprinkle of stars.
“What’s goin on between y’all? Me and Isla noticed how y’all were looking at each other the other night.”
“We just friends, Sohn.”
“You sure?” he asked, “I don't be looking at my ‘friends’ like I’m tryna dick em down.” Yosohn imitated inverted commas with his fingers at the word ‘friends’.
“That’s not how I look at-”
“Especially since I’ve got my own woman.”
Terry dropped the dumbbells onto the ground, the carpet drowning out the impact. His jaw clenched before he turned to Yosohn, shoulders rolling slightly to relieve the tension on his neck.
He looked around the gym, people weren't paying attention to the boiling argument, the sound of gym equipment being used did enough to drown out the sound of their conversation.
“I don't know what you saw, or what you think you saw.” Terry looked back at Yosohn, “But I'ma tell you this. I love my woman, and my eyes ain't wandering to anybody else. So get that base off your chest and come spot me.”
Terry pat Yosohn's shoulder before walking past him. His heart was beating out of his chest, his breathing slightly tagged which he could freely blame on the exercises. Terry couldn't help but wonder just how much Yosohn saw, was he really that obvious when near Syrae?
Yosohn followed Terry towards the weight training bench. He exhaled at the conversation, not feeling half as satisfied with the outcome as he would've hoped.
The two men moved past the tension and continued with their routines, helping one another get their workout in before they headed home. Both with thoughts weighing heavy in their mind.
Tumblr media
It was a little past midnight, and Syrae had concluded that she's had enough of Gravity and dancing for its ‘esteemed’ inhabitants.
Or in better words… fuck Gravity and every cheapskate in there. You would think people would throw more cash at the stage since they paid less at entrance.
Technically, she was finally off the clock for the night. Despite the event, she would abide by her ‘contracted’ working hours. Randy could kiss her ass.
Standing outside the club, Syrae leaned against Broisa's car, waiting for her to finish her private dance so they could get out of here and go home. Despite the thick leather coat that passed her knees, cat calls from various passerbys didn't seem to cease.
All she could do was roll her eyes and impatiently wait for her tardy friend, which really, was most definitely in character for Broisa.
“I'm here girl, I'm here.” The shorter woman said, running, or at least attempting to, towards her pink Peugeot.
Syrae couldn't help the laugh that scratched her throat from passing her lips, Broisa had always been an entertaining woman, even when she didn't try. “I can see that, what took you so long.”
Broisa explained how she got stuck in the private room having to help a passed out, middle aged man. Clearly some had too much to drink.
“Yeah, now you gotta get me some to eat.” Syrae raised her brow at Broisa before seating herself on the hood of the car, her feet barely dangling over.
Broisa laughed and rolled her eyes, having expected nothing less from Syrae, still she agreed. She got some sneakers out of the car and traded them for the heels on her feet before calling home beside Syrae.
“Seem like you in better moods, damn near chewed my head off this mornin’.” Broisa commented, eliciting a signature eye roll from Syrae, one reserved for her only.
“Lets not, I'm tryna distract myself from that.” A dull deflection is all Broisa received in return.
She still could not understand why the small charm held such importance to Syrae that it could turn her world completely upside-down. That thought doesn't last long as her eyes catch something in the distance.
“Well, I see a pretty good distraction at 9.” Broisa raised a brow.
Syrae looks to her right, catching sight of a six foot three, green-eyed, handsome bastard that seemed to be running the track coiling in her mind.
Terry Richmond had no business looking as good as he does. Casual jeans and t-shirt, covered by the thick cotton of his long, black trench coat. He had no business being near Syrae, looking as good as he does.
“Shit.” Syrae groaned and clenched her eyes shut when he noticed her before he meticulously took his steps towards her, one's that moved to the rhythm of her beating her heart.
She slid off the car and met him halfway. She wished she didn't, maybe then she wouldn't have noticed the change in his regular scent. He smelled like an ocean breeze and soft citrus.
He changed his cologne, and the reality that she picked up on something so small tickled her faint heart the same way his scent tickled her nose.
“Hey.”
“What you doin’ here?”
They spoke at the same time. Terry's brows dip into a frown, his lips opening slightly before closing again. He hadn't expected the ambush.
Syrae sighed, rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her gaze fleets behind her to Broisa before they train back to Terry. He needed to leave, because flashbacks from nights ago started placing bricks in her head.
“Terry, what you doin’ here?” She asked again, gently this time. Her gaze involuntarily softened from gazing in his eyes one second too long.
“Wanted to talk.” He muttered, clenching his hands in the pockets of his coat to soothe the need to reach out and touch her. He probably should just give her the charm and drive himself back home, but being in front of her, he wanted nothing more than another taste of space.
“We… we can't do that.” Syrae mumbles under her breath, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Damn dragonflies.
Terry was stupid enough to ask why, as if the answer didn't lay in the way his breath hitched the more he looked at her, like oxygen ceased to exist when he was near Syrae.
“Terry, c’mon. We can't do thi-.”
“I have your charm.” He interrupted, not needing to hear her finish the sentence. For once he just didn't need… logic. “You dropped it… that night.”
He took one clenched fist out of his pocket, reaching the hand out to Syrae, revealing a plastic, purple charm. A heart with wings.
At first, when Terry found it on the floor, he deemed it unimportant. Until his fingers ran across the rough feel of something engraved on it. Initials that spelt out ‘K.B’.
Syrae's eyes darted from the object in his hand to his eyes. But the wave of relief that washed over her failed miserably at killing the damn fluttering in her stomach.
“But I just wanna talk, Rae. Can you give me that?” Terry whispered, taking one step closer before dropping the charm into her smaller hands, hands he's worked day and night to remove the imprints from his skin, and his memory.
She nodded her head, her throat too clogged up to say anything coherent. She hated the way rejection just seemed near impossible with Terry around. Since they've known each other, saying ‘no’ proved to be harder than what she would've liked.
Terry sighed in relief at her compliance. He nodded his head behind him, walked towards his car where they could talk privately.
Syrae looked back at Broisa, who already seemed to be looking at her with a brow raised. A look of scepticism painted her face, causing Syrae to gesture with her hands that she should wait.
Syrae followed behind Terry quietly. She climbed into the passenger seat after he opened the door for her, watching in the warmth of his car as he jogged around to climb into the drivers.
The interior of the car was as clean as a whistle. Shiny leather seats and surfaces free of dust. Syrae’s heart clenched at the scent that wafted the air in the car, however. Lavender.
There was a pregnant silence between them. Terry's eyes focused solely on the windshield while Syrae’s solely on her lap, where her fingers twirled around one another.
She felt distant. Terry wanted to look at her so badly, but stars seemed to be his weakness, even though they were deemed unreachable.
But when Syrae was the subject of his lens, chasing those unreachable balls of light didn't seem so impossible. Because she always had them floating around her, on her, even if they were faux. Like micro, plastic cut-outs that danced on her skin and shimmered in her light.
“You been ignoring my texts.” Terry said, not out of accusation, but out of observation.
Ever since she called him about his wallet, Terry had saved her number and they've been texting back and forth ever since about anything and everything. Those texts stopped after their drunken kiss.
“What was I s’posed to say, Terry?” Syrae sighed, already feeling a pending headache from the conversation between them.
“Could've at least let me know you made it home.” He responded and finally turned to face her. “You just ran off, Rae. I was worried.”
“Well you should've ran after me, made sure I was safe if you were so worried.” Syrae countered, holding back an eye roll as the attitude rolled off her tongue effortlessly.
“How was I ‘sposed to do that after we kiss-” He stopped himself, exhaled as his eyes were facing the front of the car again.
“Then how you expect me to text you after that?”
A great question, one Terry definitely didn't have an answer to. While he knew it was selfish of him to want to continue talking to Syrae after what happened, he also couldn't help indulging himself.
There's another heavy silence, this one filled with newfound tension.
Syrae looked out the window. The smell of lavender was so strong and it reminded her of the intensity of the situation.
“This was a mistake.” Syrae mumbled to herself before opening the passenger door and climbing put of the car.
Terry got out as well with a quickness, quickly rounding to reach Syrae before she walked away from the conversation… from him.
“Syrae! Damn it, could you stop walkin’ away from me?” He caught her arm, holding it gently as his thumb rubbed circles over her coat.
“Well I need to, Terry. Cause you clearly don't want to. This!” She points between the both of them animatedly. “Can't happen. That night wasn't supposed to happen because you're married.”
“And I know th-”
“Well then act like it!” Syrae exclaimed suddenly before looking around her, embarrassment settling at the outburst.
“I can't sleep sometimes, Terry. I keep thinkin’ bout how I stole such a… precious moment with another woman’s husband.” She whispered, looking everywhere but his eyes.
And that hurt Terry, he wanted her to look at him, but he didn't have the audacity to ask for such a thing. “It won't happen again.”
“And you gon’ stop it, like you did last time?” sarcasm oozed from Syrae’s rhetorical question. Because the answer was all in their current argument. Terry wouldn't be able to stop shit from happening between them.
“I just- I don't wanna lose you as a friend Rae. I… we could forget bout what happened.”
They couldn't, they wouldn't be able to. Because that was the first time in a long time that Syrae thought a man’s touch felt right. Despite how wrong it was or how drunk she was, she felt at ease when Terry touched her.
Still, even after that realisation, she still pondered at the idea of them being friends. That maybe that would work out, maybe she could forget all about their mutual attraction to one another.
“Terry, you and I can't be ‘just friends’.” She shook her head and looked off to the side.
Terry finally let go of her arm, placing his hands in the pockets of his coat. He didn't have anything that could dispute that, he was merely living in a fantasy where he could have her… platonically.
“Yes we can. Just let me show you.”
She pondered yet again, scratching at the exposed skin of her neck before exhaling through her nose. This was exactly what she was talking about, the rejection that just always seemed so impossible with Terry involved.
“Just friends?” She asked, finally looking up at him, and she wished she didn't. Because the earthy pools that looked back at her sold promises that she wasn't sure could be kept.
“No funny business?”
“Just friends.”
“Give you my word.”
“Well then say it.”
Terry laughed at that, the baritone woke the fluttering in Syrae's stomach. The sight of his smile enticing a smile of her own.
“I promise.” Terry muttered through his smile. Signed, sealed and delivered.
“Okay.” Syrae whispered, her fingers twiddling yet again. “We can stay friends, I guess.”
His smile widened, something Syrae thought wasn't even possible with the way he was cheesing moments before. She bet husband cheeks hurt more than hers.
“Okay. I'll see you around, Ms. Belles.” Terry nodded his head before walking backwards, keeping his eyes on Syrae which drew an unsolicited laugh from her chest as she shook her head at his antics. “Keep safe.”
“See you ‘round, Mr. Richmond.” She began, watching him back into the driver seat of his car. “And you too.”
Syrae watched as the car backed away from the parking lot of the club. She sighed heavily once it was out of her sight before she turned and walked back to Broisa, who was beyond curious with the interaction she just witnessed.
“Don't start.” Syrae warned with a flat face once she took notice of the other woman’s expression.
“I’m just worried. I thought I was seeing shit that night. I told Gage’s ass that there was somethin’ between the two of y'all and he aint believe.” Broisa rambled, which caused Syrae to roll her eyes and shake her head.
“Y'all havin’ pillow talk about my business?” Syrae frowned up at her friend.
“I mean, your life seem very interesting lately so why the hell not?” Broisa shrugged with a small smile before she focused on Syrae seriously, her eyes scanned her face intently.
“That's a married man, Rae. Freshly married might I add.”
“I know, Broisa. There ain't shit going on between me and that man.” Syrae quickly countered with a loud exhale at the reminder. The feel of the cold metal around his finger ironically burned the skin of her thigh since the kiss. She didn't need another reminder.
“I hope for your sake that's true, cause what I just saw ain't look like nothin’.” Broisa hummed lowly before sliding off her car and unlocking it. “Anyway, let go get somethin’ to eat. A girl hungry as fuck.”
Syrae watched as Broisa got into her car after her warning. Her heart thumped a bit faster at her words. She hoped so too, hoped so badly that Terry and her could stay friends, no matter how impossible it sounded to her heart.
“Fuck my life.” Syrae murmured under her breath before she walked to the passenger side of the car and climbed in.
She really, really hoped she could forget about that night, the kiss, the idea of something romantic with Terry. But why did hope suddenly feel like something so far-fetched.
A/n: Finally, with this chapter out of the way, we can get to the nitty gritty of the story. The first four chapters were just introducing us to the characters and the situation. Now we can go into the problems and the angst.
Please comment and reblog if you like the story so far or on your thoughts, I'd like to hear what you guys think.
Taglist:
@blyffe @peachbutterfly-blog @browngirldominion @blackmoonchilee @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @earthchica @nayaesworld @cdotmvkspaz @kaylaaisthebestest- @zillasvilla
If I forgot to tag you or you want to be tagged, let me know in the comments.
63 notes · View notes
ataraxiaspainting · 11 months ago
Text
Russian Roulette.
Yan L x GN Reader.
Synopsis: You decide to test your luck while it still lasts, as small as it is. 
Warnings: Yandere themes, past stalking, kidnapping, and manipulation.
Word Count: 1.1k.
*~*~*~*
“Hmm… why do you want me to do that, exactly?” The response is much longer than a simple okay or sure or no, but the question was what you expected to be in the realm of absolute possibility. You have given L too little credit in the past, when you first woke up here, thinking that he can shut himself up and go back to whatever he usually does, like eating cake or watching the same footage of you in your home for the tenth time that week. 
You can work with this.
“It’s not like you have given me much else to do.” You say, not biting your tongue this time around, the bitterness in your voice coinciding with the box of sour fruit gummies on the other side of the table, with the artificial sweetness in L’s tone. “Plus if you want to treat me as well as you say you want to, you would oblige the simple request of playing a game with your favorite captive.”
His eyebrow raises at the last word that slipped out of your mouth, not out of guilt or shame or fear that your reality has punched him straight in the face, but out of just… curiosity.
“What if I don’t?” He smirks, looking up at you. “You did just rudely rush in here stomping and making demands… not exactly the behavior I would think of when I hear the word captive.”
“I’m going insane.” You say, glaring down at him, your fists curled so deeply into your pajama pants that you swore that they would break. 
He chuckles, and it feels like the messy hair covering your angry face has just gotten even more disheveled. 
“I jest, I jest… fine… I’ll play with my favorite captive.”
It feels like this weight has just been lifted off of your head, but the one in your heart remains.
“No need to be so… tangled up.” He says the pun naturally, popping in a few more pieces of the neon candy. 
You start grumbling curses under your breath as if he did reject your proposal. He didn’t though. He didn’t, so you’ll play by his much longer game for a bit more before you struggle yet again.
“Not funny.”
There are only six pieces of candy left in the yellow box, each one a different color.
“What are you waiting for?” He asks, slouching forward instead of backward this time around and crossing his legs. “Go get your… game.”
You scoff and race off to L’s bedroom, putting your knees next to the mattress that is on the opposite side of L’s bed. Under your pillow are the six red plastic cups you stole from the cupboard last night, along with a chocolate egg still in its packaging, something you got from L after threatening to jump on your mattress until the few trinkets he got for you would fall on the floor and break. You won for once, in the end, but that condescending look he had while giving it to you makes you want to kick him in the groin again. 
It is the same look he has when you return to him, tail tucked between your legs as you set up the cups and the chocolate egg on the table. The box of candy is empty now. How in the hell does he not get so many cavities?
“Alright then, explain the rules.” He raises his arms to the ceiling and yawns loudly, obnoxiously. 
You sit down on the opposite side of the table. Your posture is much more restrained than his, he notes. Your hands are on your lap and your back is straight. You still don’t know how to relax. A symptom of being raised in high society.
“It’s a game I used to play with the younger servants when I was little.” You explain. Thinking of the past brings back unwanted feelings, but thinking of the present does the same. You have never experienced true freedom, but at least here you can speak your mind and your emotions. God, maybe you are going insane, being… thankful to him, your captor. “Someone guesses which cup has the object underneath. If they win, they get to ask a question to the person who scrambled the cups. If they lose, the person who scrambled the cups gets to ask the question.”
The image of a smaller you playing with porcelain cups and a ring, perhaps your mother’s, as the servants look confused makes L laugh softly. How cute.
“I’ll go first.” You insist, putting the chocolate egg under one of the cups and swiftly moving them around. “Okay. Go on. Don’t take your time.”
“Alright.”
L’s pointed finger moves slowly to the cup in the middle.
“If I remember correctly, it is this one, isn’t it?” He asks. “Right?”
That smile of yours makes choosing the wrong cup on purpose makes it worth it in L’s eyes. 
“Nope.” You lift the one farthest to L’s left and your right. The chocolate egg is there, untouched.
He doesn’t pretend to be surprised, instead still smiling. You do the same, albeit unknowingly.
“Alright, my turn now.” You didn’t even get to ask him a question, but you are too deep in your pride to care about it right now. You won against L for once. You’re proud. It’s cute.
One by one, you slide the cups and the chocolate egg over. You’re confident, it would appear. 
How cute.
He puts one cup over the chocolate egg and moves all of them around, much faster than you did your turn. Your eyebrows furrow as you try to concentrate. 
He stops moving them, and it feels like the weight on your heart becomes even heavier.
Your pointer finger shakes as you move it to the cup in the center, silent.
L shakes his head.
“Nope.” He says, the word mocking yours.
His right elbow rests on the corner of the table, his palm cradling his chin as he looks on, to the shakingness of your breath, to the way your folded hands tremble. 
The air feels thick, and you don’t even know why. Or do you?
“You already know what I am going to ask you, aren’t you?” The question is longer than anticipated. 
“N-No.” You stutter.
“Oh?” The sound feels like a stab to the heart or a punch in the face. “That’s fine, I guess.”
He leans in. Closer and closer. You back away, but not enough to not smell how sugary his breath is. 
“There is a knife missing from the knife drawer. Where is it?” 
You didn’t win against L, you say to yourself. He won.
“...Underneath my pillow.”
230 notes · View notes
squoxle · 1 year ago
Text
Golden Rule - L.HS ff ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。
Tumblr media
🎧 pairing: inexperienced!heeseung x badgirl!reader
🎧 summary: your cute and nerdy classmate lets you have your way with him in exchange for help on an assignment
🎧 cw: corruption and exhibitionism kink, oral (m. receiving), religious themes, mentions of bullying, college au, hee’s a bit subby
🎧 wc: 1.4k
Tumblr media
You had been feeling horny for the entire week and knew you had to get your hands on some good dick or else you’d literally combust.
Introducing your person of interest: Lee Heeseung.
He was the type of guy you could guess everything about without even speaking to him. From his glasses, the way he tucked his ironed dress shirts into his belted pants, the way you only saw him either sitting with his legs crossed at a church sermon or studying his heart out at the library.
Heeseung was the epitome of a Christian nerd, but it was his insanely good looks that drew your attention to him in the first place.
You two first met at the beginning of the school semester, but you weren’t sure if you could call it a friendship just yet, especially not with the way you’d fantasize about him with your fingers between your legs every night.
It currently 6:00pm: the same time he’d come to the library to study every week day.
“What’re you working on,” you asked, taking a seat beside him at the table.
“Nothing much. Mr. Sweeney gave me this stupid hand written essay that I have to turn in by tomorrow, so I’ll be pretty busy for the next few hours.”
“What for? I thought Mr. Sweeney taught Bible. There aren’t any writing assignments for that class.”
That’s honestly the only reason why you took Bible class this semester.
“He does, but this isn’t a part of the curriculum. It’s a punishment for the prank I pulled on Jake and his crew yesterday… let’s just say, I didn’t get away with it as easily as planned.”
“Oh, so you do have a naughty side?”
“Hardly,” he sharply defended, “All I did was swap their video game discs out with episodes of The Brady Bunch on dvds. But, Sunghoon snitched, so now I’m here.”
“Tough.”
“I know. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, anyways.”
“Nobody deserves to be bullied, Hee. Those guys were assholes and you stood up for yourself! They’re the ones who should be playing Shakespeare for the night,” you argued passionately.
His eyes widened at your use of a swear word, such language that was forbidden by your university code of conduct.
“I appreciate you taking sides with me, but please don’t call it bullying. Makes me feel all… soft, and… vulnerable,” he cringed at his own words.
“You look pretty soft and vulnerable to me,” you mumbled, hungry eyes falling to his pouty lips.
“Excuse me?”
You cleared your throat, “Uhm, what’s the paper on?”
“The Golden Rule.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “The what?”
“Loving your neighbors as yourself? You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons.”
You chuckled at his comment, nudging him on the shoulder, “Hey, maybe I would if he wasn’t so damn boring… How many pages does it have to be?”
He sighed, “10 at least.”
Having to come of with 10 pages worth of “Golden Rule” greatness sounded much more challenging than you knew it actually was.
All he had to do was write in VERY BIG LETTERS.
You peered over his shoulder, examining the paper. He was just getting started on page two.
“Hmm. We have similar handwriting,” you added, making Heeseung look at you with his desperate doe eyes.
“Oh my God, ____! You have to help me!”
“Watch out, church boy. The pastor might make it 11 pages if he hear’s you calling the Lords name in vain.”
“Ughhhh,” his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he groaned, “Can you please just help me out?”
“Uh-huh, and why would I do that?”
“Look, I’ll do anything! You’re a way stronger writer than I am, and my brain is in the verge of kermitting suicide!!”
He was right. Writing was never a strong subject of his, so he really did need your help.
“Fine,” you gave in, looking around the library before whispering in his ear, “If you can be quiet while I suck you off until you finish page two, I’ll do the rest.”
His eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”
“You heard me,” you said cattily, sneaking under the table and between his legs.
“____, get from down there!! This is inappropriate!”
“Says who,” you giggled, unbuckling his leather belt.
“We’re not a married couple, ____. Hell, We’re not even dating!” He whisper-yelled from above the table, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand.
You could feel how tense he was just my touching his thighs, “You’ve never been approached like this before, have you?” You asked yet stated.
He took a deep swallow, already feeling himself throbbing in his pants, “Of course not… I’m trying to save myself here, y’know?”
“Aww, that’s cute,” you pouted, rubbing his bulge through his boxers.
“F-fuhh,” he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut at the feeling, “I don’t know if I can do this, ____.”
“With God, all things are possible, Hee! You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons,” you mocked, shimmying his boxers down to his ankles.
You adjusted yourself under the table before grabbing a hold of his impressively large dick, starting with gentle pumps.
“I’m not hearing the pencil penciling, Hee. Be a good boy and keep writing,” you slithered in a sing-song voice, licking a stripe up his shaft. The foreign texture of your tongue sent pleasurable shivers down his spine.
“____,” he cried with a surpressed moan, “how am I supposed to focus when you’re down there doing that?!” He worried, looking around as if waiting for someone to catch you two.
You released your lips from his heat with a pop, “Down here doing what, Hee? Sucking your virgin dick in the library? I always knew you had a naughty side.”
“Mmm,” he moaned again, rutting his hips up into your mouth, “please tell me you’re almost done, ____.”
You grinned at the sound of his begging, feeling yourself grow wetter with each second you spent between his legs, “Depends on if you either finish that last page or cum in my mouth first.”
Taking him past your lips again, you bobbed your head up and down, stroking the remaining inches you couldn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.
He tried his best to keep writing, but with that way you were sucking him off, his hands couldn’t help but drop the pencil before getting lost in your hair.
“Fuck,” he whined, finally letting the word come out.
He started to use your head like a toy as you sucked him in even harder, “just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”
You were surprised by how his body slowly submitted to you the more you pleasured him.
Meanwhile, he was surprised that this was actually even happening. You moaned with the gag that tried to escape your throat, clinging to his thighs as your tried to hold in your sounds.
Your eyes started to poke with tears as he used your head more aggressively than before, finally shooting his warm load down your mouth, panting as if he’d just ran a marathon.
“Shh, you’re so noisy,” you teased, stroking him to a point of overstimulation.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he whimpered, taking your hands in his to stop your ministrations.
You licked the cum that dripped from your mouth before pulling his pants back up, getting from under the table.
You fixed your hair with your hands after literally just getting your face fucked by your sweet classmate, taking in his hot and bothered frame.
“How was it?” You asked casually, sitting next to him as if nothing happened.
You tried to ignore the sticky moisture that stuck to your thighs from your own arousal, figuring that you’d think about this moment while you pleased yourself later.
“Amazing,” he said with a shaky breath, still feeling his orgasm fresh in his veins.
“I’m taking about the page you just wrote, silly,” you teased, moving the sheet of paper closer to you before examining what he came up with, “Dude!”
“What, dude?” He asked back with flushed and sleepy features.
“This is garbage!” You exclaimed, ripping the piece of paper in half.
“Yeah, I don’t know why you would’ve expected anything different.”
“Gimme that,” you retorted, snatching the pencil from his hand, “I’m gonna need some coffee to write all these pages for ya…”
“Ugh,” he groaned, understanding that you were indirectly asking him to get you something to drink.
“Iced?”
“Always.”
He got up from the seat, searching through his backpack before pulling out his wallet, “Thanks by the way,” he smiled, trailing to the library exit.
“What can I say? It’s the Golden Rule,” you replied, jotting down the first of many sentences you’d write for Lee Heeseung, the guy you just blessed with the best blow job of his life.
Tumblr media
❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:
@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon
389 notes · View notes
solar-wing · 2 years ago
Text
⚣ Safer With Me ❌
Tumblr media
⚣❌ A/N → Yandere! Arkham!Jason Todd. Inspired by @yanderes-galore and their prompt writing for Jason. Prompts below were selected with a randomizer wheel. WARNINGS: Abduction/Kidnapping, Minor themes of Non-Con, Stalking/Obsessive Behavior, Depictions of Violence and Gun-Use
Prompt List Here! #40: "I know what's best for you, just trust me on this one." #18: "There's no use in sucking up to me now."
⚣❌ Summary → Homeless on the streets after your parents kicked you out when you came out to them, fate seemed to take mercy on you as you were taken in by Gotham's Billionaire Playboy, Bruce Wayne. But, your stay with him is not long as someone has been keeping an eye on you. An old acquaintance of your new guardian who had a plan of getting you away from the famed CEO. Why? Because you were safer with him, why else?
⚣❌ Words → 1.8k
REBLOGS and replies very appreciated, please! ❤️
⚣ ENJOY ❌
Tumblr media
You couldn’t figure out how you ended up in this situation.
A few months before this entire mess of a night, your parents had kicked you out on the streets after coming out to them as gay. Kind of ironic knowing the other stuff they ‘tolerated’, but whatever. 
So after that, you were sleeping on the streets, doing what you had to do to survive. It’s Gotham City, so you were bound to eventually run into trouble. Some guys who were clearly drunk off their asses decided to start harassing you then Batman showed up to save the day. But he barely got a punch in before you had all three of them laying on their asses in pain.
There was a reason you asked your parents for self-defense classes the moment you came to terms with your sexuality. The world was changing, but not quickly enough.
So, the Dark Knight dropped you off at the police station where coincidentally, Bruce Wayne happened to show up and offered to take you in. You’d heard about the billionaire’s ‘hobby’ of taking in kids off the street and giving them a better life, and what more pleasing way to shove the middle finger at your parents than to end up in the care of someone who seemed to actually give a fuck about you more than they ever pretended to?
Then, the tests started. You figured Bruce was testing your skills to see how well you’d be able to take care of yourself just in case another incident happened as the one Batman found you in. They continued for a while, and before Bruce got to tell you what they were actually for, it was too late.
A few months after your move-in into Wayne Manor, you started getting the feeling you were being watched. And growing up in Gotham, you always knew it was better to listen to your instincts and be wrong than not listen and still be wrong.
A week before the attack on the city from Scarecrow, you had been on your way home walking since Bruce wasn’t able to pick you up due to some ‘unforeseen circumstances’. You’d soon come to find out all of that was a diversion so Arkham Knight and his militiamen had a clear shot at nabbing you. 
When you turned down a corner to an empty street, they pulled you into an alleyway and jumped you. You did your best to fight them off, but they began to overwhelm you. Somehow, you gained an upper hand though, the goons not expecting you to be as trained as you were. 
Just before you could take out the last of them though, he showed up and surprised you from behind, covering your nose and mouth with a rag seeped in nitrous oxide, putting you right to sleep.
Right before you lost consciousness, you heard a modulated voice chuckle in your ear, “Don’t worry, I got you. You’re safe with me now.”
You woke up in a dark room with hands and feet tied together and a splitting headache to match the aches around your body. You looked around to see the room you were in was empty, but you could hear voices on the outside talking.
“Why do you think Knight wanted him in the first place?”
“If I had to guess, it probably got something to do with the Bat himself.”
“Hmm, maybe. Personally, I think he’s got a thing for him. Not my place to judge, but I’ve heard and seen how protective he gets of him. Did you see the way he brought him in? Not one of us was allowed to even touch him.”
You didn’t know what to make of it or how to make sense of it. Didn’t have the time to do it either since you heard footsteps approaching the door. You listened to that same modulated voice you’d heard before you passed out giving an order to open the door. 
Laying back down in the position you were in before, you pretended to be still asleep.
You could hear the heavy footsteps as if whoever this was wearing the heaviest of heaviest boots in the world. The nervous feeling in your chest grew more and more the closer they sounded. Doing your best to stay still, you tried slowing your breathing down to a relaxed pace as you felt the thuds on the ground from him coming to stand next to you, feeling his entire presence standing over your body. You prepared your body figuring he may kick, slap, or even yell for you to wake up.
You did not expect to feel a gloved hand caressing your face.
“I know you’re awake.” He spoke before removing his hands and standing back up.
Opening your eyes, you saw a glowing screen mask staring down at you. 
You heard their modulated voice chuckle as he watched you slowly sit back up. “You didn’t think we’d have cameras inside watching to see when you’d got up?” He stated before gesturing to the cameras around the room. 
The mysterious soldier turned around to grab the only chair in the room, moving it to the middle of the room before coming back to lift you off the ground, settling you into the chair gently.
“Why am I here?”
“I know what’s best for you, just trust me on this one. You’re safer with me than with him.”
“Him? Who are you talking about?” You asked with a puzzled look coming across your face.
He didn’t immediately respond, but you could tell he was debating on something, you just didn’t know what.
“In time, you’ll find out.” He replied simply.
“What do you want?” You asked.
“Direct and to the point, huh? Knew there was something I liked about you.” He laughed, walking to stand in front of you with his arms crossed.
“Must be a lot of things from what I’ve heard. Otherwise, I don’t think I’d be sitting here.”
“Really? Well, if I were you, I’d think better than believing everything I hear.” He said, grabbing your chin a little rough, forcing you to look up at him.
You scowled at the armor-clad man before spitting at him. You watched the glob of saliva run down his mask before the hand on your chin grabbed at your neck. You clawed at his wrists to no avail as he lifted you out of the seat.
“That wasn’t very nice. Say you’re sorry, and I won’t hurt you… much.” He said, getting very close to your face to the point you could feel the electricity buzzing off the screen.
“Fuck you, asshole.” You spat at him.
He chuckled darkly, before kicking the chair you were sitting on.
“If you insist.”
He slammed you down on the ground, your breath escaping you and your vision going blurred. He kept his hand tight on your neck while the other one went down to your pants, undoing the belt and button before attempting to pull them down.
“No!” You whimpered, trying to fight back against him. He placed his body over your kicking legs, his heavyweight managing to hold them still while he now went to put his hands up your shirt. He felt all over your upper body, even stopping to pinch at your nipples a few times, before his hand went back down to your pants, sticking them down your underwear. You cried out at the feeling, trying your best to get him off you, but the dude was like a tank, and you were getting weaker with the more time he spent choking the air out of you. He started trying to push down your pants again before you both heard pounding against the door.
“Knight! Scarecrow says we gotta move!”
He held still for a moment before you felt him release you. You gasped for breath while he re-did your pants before pulling you up from the ground. Your body lay against his weak while feeling a little lightheaded from being jerked up so suddenly.
“You got lucky, this time. But, I wouldn’t try a move like that again. You won’t be leaving anytime soon
“Batman will. He’ll kick your ass.” You groaned from the soreness around your throat while panting into his chest armor.
You felt the chuckle vibrate from his chest before he bent down to lift you in a bridal hold.
“I was held captive once too, tortured even. Thought the same thing. It’s nice for a while but you’ll get over it soon enough.”
You struggled in the hold as he moved toward the door letting out a whimper from the pain your body was still in. “Please… just let me go.” You begged.
“Aww, already giving in? Cute. And smart. But, too little, too late. There’s no use in sucking up to me now.” He said, before heading out of the room to wherever.
Tumblr media
You watched from around the corner, a gag tied over your mouth now with your hands bound in front of you as one of the militiamen held you in place. You saw Batman come around the corner and tried to scream out to warn him but was too late as Knight had jumped from the ledge he was hiding on shooting at him. 
Batman managed to dodge but was quickly knocked to the ground. Before he could get up, Knight walked over and placed his foot on his chest, pinning him down to the ground.
“Oh no, no, you’re not going anywhere, old man.”
You looked in horror as Knight switched hands with the gun he was holding, pointing it down directly at the masked vigilante.
“Tri-weave, titanium coated, armor plating. Nice. Unless you know exactly…where to shoot.” He said, before placing the gun down on his lower abdomen and pulling the trigger. You flinched at the sound, watching him groan in pain before Knight moved his foot off his chest.
“You’re good, Dark Knight. Even better than I remember. It’s going to make it even more satisfying when I kill you. Oh, and, don’t worry about Barbara. I’ll take better care of her than you ever did. Y/N too, he’s mine now.” You heard him say, walking toward where you and the others were standing around the corner.
“Batman’s in the control room. Show him what happens when he messes with my city and tries to take what doesn’t belong to him.”
Knight walked toward you as the militiaman immediately released you into his embrace. He cradled you gently even as you tried to push out of his hold. When he got tired of you fighting him, he just picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder, carrying you away from the room.
“You’re better off without him anyway.”
Tumblr media
☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
505 notes · View notes
tranceinnumerabletabs · 4 days ago
Text
When Johnny Comes Back pt13
I'd like to mention some of these 'titles' were from AO3 and I'm sorry for how some of these sound. I know a lot of these were truly bonkers and some were character-specific. Y'all better like them they're legit funny at times AND have plausible deniability. Also, just like...2 hours after posting part 12, I REACHED 100 REBLOGS!! LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Sorry it took so long! I guess I hit a writer's block.
tags: @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and @beelzebee
part1, part12
“Poison Breaker. Affirmative Sir. Operation: Deep Infiltration. Whispers of the Damned.”
Huh…those sound familiar?
“Undercover assets. Trapper Keeper. The Art of Subtlety. Hotline.”
Those….are just titles of sites you’ve visited? You think. You don’t memorize the hundreds of sites you visit.
“Tactical Submission. All That’s Said In Low Light. The Captain’s Private Orders. All the Sins You Never Had the Courage to Commit. Silent Weapons, Soft Target. To Drive a Man to Madness. Covert Rendezvous.”
Soap looks confused, which isn’t a good look right now. ‘What’s all this?’ He seems to say as he looks at you. You look confused as well.
You Don't remember this as being a part of your research.
This Wasn't Part Of Your Research.
“Sir Yes Sir. Directive 69: Breach & Enter. Man In Uniform. Under the Hood: Sensitive Material. Bravo Six: Going Dark. Decompression Protocol. Advanced Recon: Close Quarters. Mask-On Compliance. Command Authority: At Ease.”
Johnny looked even more confused. That’s…a lot more than you showed him. You didn’t tell him about any of this and by the sounds of it it seems important.
“Low-Profile Insertion. Kylassified BBC. Private Briefing: The Captain’s Touch. The Alpha Lieutenant. Engagement Protocol.”
Wait. Alpha Lieutenant? that sounds so familiar to you.
“Explosive Affairs. Now You See ‘em, Now You Don’t. Help Me Out (Get Me Off).”
“Hen what’s this?” Soap whispers sharply to you.
“Someone to Bleed. Silent Takeover. Behind Enemy Lines (Barracks Edition). Black Ops Ships.”
Ships?
Ships??
SHIPSSS??
SHIIIIIIPPSSSS??!!
No
no please god no
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
“Modern Warfare Collection. C4 & Chill. Op Order: Stand to Attention.”
Soap looked worried at your panicked look.
'What are you hiding?'
“Slow Burn Deployment. Headcannon: Operator Edition. Cold War AU. Warzone AU. Infinite Warfare AU. Ship Week Prompts.”
“This isn’t what it looks like” you whisper back but it’s not very convincing when the words Cold War, Warzone and Warfare is coming out of Ross’ mouth
“Modern Warfare Drabbles. Modern Warfare Oneshots. Multi chapter AU Missions. Modern Warfare PWP. Kinktober: Advanced Warfare Edition. Fix-it-Fic: After Action Report.”
He’s literally reading your fucking fanfic history.
“Canon-Divergence ABO AU. WIP Modern Warfare 2.”
ABO?! fml that’s like the worst one?! What could be worse!?
“CoD x Reader."
tHaT wAsN't a fUcKiNg cHAllEnGe rOsS!!
"Reader Inserts: Classified Quarters. Modern Warfare Imagines.” Ross finishes as if he didn’t completely and utterly demolish your dignity in one fell swoop by reading your fanfic history right in front of Johnny
.
.
.
.
“Care to explain all that ma’am?” Ross asks innocuously Now, all three men turn towards you for answers, though Soap is still on your side, he wanted your explanation
You clear your throat, finding it suddenly dry. Was it always hot in here or was it just you?
“I….um…”
At the hesitation, Milton and Ross perk up “Those are just….fictional stories I like reading.” You vaguely say
“Hmm. That’s an awful lot of them military themed”
You nod hastily “yep!” You squeak “I’m just….really into it”
yeah I’m sure you are you whore
All three of them seem to scrutinize you under their gaze. The agents gaze spoke of suspicions and Soap’s never knew you were into that bonny
“So all of this is just a curiosity? You seemed to stay up late on these sites. All these titles are cause for suspicion in one way or another”
you doubt that but I guess they wouldn’t understand what some of these terms would be
“Y-yeah…the stories aren’t….focused on military stuff anyway it’s just….silly stories about the characters” you force out as you wish the ground would swallow you whole. They don’t even seem convinced as you experience an ego death right next to Soap. “It’s harmless! Honest!” You say, digging yourself into a deeper grave.
“Could you show us one of them” Milton challenges
I’d rather you shoot me but okay! You pull out your phone and go on AO3
“Lass what are you doing?” Soap whisper hisses at you, thinking it’s bad.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it” you whisper back. You try to find……nothing too weird. That shouldn’t be too hard right?
right?
You show him the beginning of some slow burn. Nothing crazy happens in the beginning of a slow burn right?
You all sit in silence as old ass men read fanfiction titles right fucking in front of you with varying expressions. But you only had one expression: Pain.
Soap looked like he wanted answers but is waiting till they leave “So they’re really just…..stories..?” Ross gruffs
“Yep! Nothing classified here!” You wheeze Ross of course decided to scroll all the way to the top before you could stop him and read the fucking tags you unwillingly flinch in embarrassment and take back your phone so he doesn’t seen any…..inappropriate tags….and you pray they didn’t. You look at your phone and Daymn these tags are pretty good but not something you’d show your parents. He…didn’t read them did he??
DID HE?
Milton doesn’t seem to notice and continues with the questions “so they’re unrelated to earlier searches?”
“YEP!” Your voice cracks
“Does your ’friend’ also have these….‘interests’”
“Uhhhh……maybe? I’m sure she’d like some of them”
Ross seemed to have enough “alright. Seems….harmless enough”
“Does your friend know anything about deeper searches or your husband’s occupation?” Milton checks again
husband
“U-um….she knows he’s in the military…” you dodge the fist part of the question but “And the searches?” Milton wasn’t having any of that
“I didn’t send her anything I know is classified” technically not a lie
“Did you tell her anything classified?”
“I never knew I even read anything bad! I was just curious”
please leave please leave please leave
They didn’t like that. But what could they do? They shoot Soap a look. He shoots one back, as if to say “leave it to me gentlemen”
The men nod “thank you both for your cooperation.” Ross grunts. They move to stand up and you relax slightly Ross straightens his tie as he talks “Be mindful of where you look and who you share it with. Curiosity could get you in serious trouble if you end up on the wrong side of a security breach“
“If you have any questions about classified material, there are legitimate channels.” Milton eyes you both.
pfff! ‘Legitimate Channels’?! If you wanted to watch hours of propaganda you’d watch marvel movies
Ross casually pockets his notebook filled with information the CIA couldn’t waterboard out you. They start to see themselves out but then-
“Hold it right there folks” Soap objects. The men turn to look at him. “Are ye gonna stop watching us? I’m not too keen on being monitored”
The men exchange glances “we’ll be in touch”
Soap doesn’t seem satisfied with that. Seems he still needs to….do things under your table and need their heads away.
“Aye. Aye. I Ken it’s yer jobs tae be cunts. I’m one myself” he reminds “but I’d like tae take a look at her ‘investigation’ myself and dinae want tae be watched”
Oh so that’s why
The men look at each other, straighten up, and try to make him understand “It’s not in our hands sergeant” Milton speaks “we can try to put in a good word. But we can’t make guarantees”
Soap thinks for a moment “aye, I shoulda known...Hmph. That’s alright gentlemen. I’ll just tell my captain and Laswell”
The men look even more serious “alright. I’m sure they’ll clear her name for you.” They start to see themselves out again but before they could fully leave, the older one, Ross turn his head back and says “It’s got to have you back sergeant” before finally leaving.
Both of you sigh in relief, the tension seeming to leave you both as you relaxed but neither of you are relaxed at all. Your dignity was in complete shambles, you had a lot to explain and Soap now had another mission as soon as he came back.
A long silence befalls both of you. Neither of you knowing what to say and needing to contemplate. You were there, reality crashing on you realizing how you’ve just stumbled into and Johnny? He’s now just had a new list of objectives to complete:
1. Interrogate you, why didn’t you tell him about those? are you hiding something from him? Have you been lying about what you know?
2. Tell Laswell and Price everything he knows and everything that happened. He already sent screenshots, they haven’t responded, and there’s been…..recent updates to suspicious activity he has to investigate.
3. Try to clear your name. But only if he’s concluded you deserved it. And he’s worried you didn’t deserve it. Those titles did sounded suspicious
4.Contact the shadow. How dare he talk to his wee bonny lass? Was it random? Was it bait? Was it targeted? Was it a part of something bigger he might not survive?
As both of you were processing the events, neither of you knew what to say. Soap braved a glance at you, you were looking right at him…wanting to speak but not knowing how to start. His eyes softened. How could he think anything malevolent of you? He’s sure you have an explanation. He put his signature teasing smile on his face.
“Husband eh? Looks like they made it official for us.” He jokes
You look surprised, before slowly cracking a small laugh and shaking your head. He smiles at the sight: you, on laughing at his antics on his bare chest. His solider brain impelled him from the side of his mind that he usually shut down when he came back to demand
To demand answers now.
But you were precious.
Too precious
But he had a job to do. His Call of Duty
“Lass” he clears his through and tries to keep his tone lighthearted as to not alarm you but the look in his eye was serious. “Care tae explain all tha’? Ye said ye told me everything”
Your eyes widen and your cheeks start heating up, you shove your face back into his chest, an action that would usually have his heart beating faster and his grin wider, but not now, cuz that’s MiGhTy sUsPiCioUs. His eyes grow even more serious. “What’s wrong bonny” his pet name sounds forced “are ye hiding’ something?”
You don’t seem to catch the weight of his tone, too engulfed in the absolute embarrassment of the events. Bad news. “Lass” he says through clenched teeth. “Care tae explain?” He fights the urge to grip your hair and force eye contact. He needs answers.
You catch on and snap your head up “I-i-it’s not what I-it l-l-looks like! I can explain!”
no you can't
oh god how am I going to explain I read smutty military fanfiction?! HE’S IN THE FUCKING MILITARY
“Ye said ye told me everything”
“I did!”
“Then what was all that? You didn’t show me all those.”
“I-I-I answered truthfully! Honest!”
“So all th’ was jus’ stories?” He asks, suspicious
“Yes! I promise!”
“About what?”
"Just….some..military stuff”
“Ye seemed eager tae make sure sheriff Sunburn and Deputy Mustache dinnae read it.” He presses
“It’s just….um….about the characters themselves. Like about lieutenants, soldiers, sergeants, mercenaries. Not about combat or battle….usually..”
So you’re learning about their means to an end? The average person doesn’t read hours of Mein Kampf, Das Kapital, The Art of War, The Turner Diaries etc for the writing style. So he scowls more as if that’s worse “an’ why would ye want tae know that?”
“Just……for fun..”
“Fer fun?”
“Hmm hmm” you force out.
Oh lord, if you’re listening, please help. I know we haven't always gotten along with my reading history and every thought I have when Johnny is shirtless but please!
“Then why don’t I have some ‘fun’ too? Give me your phone” he challenges, determined to find you out. Your eyes widen and your throat goes dry
oh lord please no
Your reaction seemed to confirm his suspicions and I look of betrayal and denial seeped into his face. You lied to him? You lied?! What were you plotting?
The look on his face broke your heart and you panicked more “I-i-it’s not bad! Honest! C'mon I need you on my side Johnny! You know I’d never do anything bad!”
“Honest?” He seemed to mock “well if ye wanna talk about honesty. Let’s talk about how ye went behind my back and learned everythin’ I’ve been trying tae hide from ye, only for you to end up being someone I’d fight against and ye won’t even let me not believe it!”
“Nononononono” you shake your head. Then. You sigh, defeated
“…..don’t laugh…”
Soap seemed to ease up at that.
“It’s…..uh…transformative works based on preexisting concepts made by regular civilians”
“Does it end with the army lads plantin’ a bomb or rescuin’ a kitten? I’m sure ‘The Captain’s Private Orders’ and ‘Operation Deep Infiltration’ sound like stories with happy endings. Next thing I see is you pitching’ American Sniper tae our wee Simon fer a bedtime story”
oh they have happy endings alright
You groan and place your hands in your hands “they’re not even about military bullshit! They’re about military video game characters!” You slip
“….stories…..about video game...military…” he mumbled to himself. Then…slowly, his entire demeanor shifts. His shoulders drop and his face twist into disbelief
“No. fucking. way” he looks at you but there was no malice, making you foolishly relax as well “what?”
“Lass…”
“Johnny?”
“…were ye readin’ fanfiction?!” He yells in absolute disbelief!
“W-what! I-I-I”
“Don’t try tae lie tae me sweetheart!” He laughs, and despite it being at your expense pride swelled in your heart at making him laugh so hard. “Ye wee filthy lass!” He laughs.
“N-no!!” You yell in a blushing defense but that just confirms his suspicions further and he wasn’t having any of that. You're dignity was going for a round two and there is no tap outs avaliable
“I cannae believe it! The wee Innocent Princess has a dark side! Tell me lassie, do ye like the idea of a big mean soldier tossin’ a wee ting like you and fuckin’ her silly?”
“It’s not all smutty!” You slip up. Well shit now you’ve confirmed it!
“Is that so? are they all big dark, brooding and misunderstood?” He keeps going, merciless “or are they too busy shagging each other? An’ I’m right here! Without the plot holes or filers! I’m proper jealous! Am I not strong enough fer ye Bonnie? I promise I’m a better fuck than Audie Murphy!” He laughs, clutching his chest in faux heartbreak
“Noooooo!”
“Dae the lads recite Shakespeare tae woo ye? I should try tha’! O, my sweet lass, how doth thy beauty compare to a well-placed grenade?’”
“Okay well fuck you too Johnny”
“ye wish! Is this what ye’ve been reading at night?! All cozy in yer Jammies readin’ about an alpha male in yer bedroom? I gotta see this!”
“Jounnyyy!!” you shove your face into your hands, unable to face him
“What’s yer favorite one lass? ‘Tactical Submission’? ‘*Deeeep* Infiltration’” he leans in close to you, making sure to be right in front of your hands on your face
“What was it again? ‘Captain’s Private Orders’? I could give ye orders if ye like lass”
“Oh I’m sorry Sergeant jealousy, I didn’t know it was part of protocol to get your CV before reading in what I thought was the privacy of my home!” You whine into your hands then he grips your wrists and rips them away to revel in your shattered dignity
“I dinae think the day would ever come where I’d find this about ye! Are ye that patriotic or have I swooned ye? I shoulda went in tae makin’ porn! Then at least ye’d be Diddling tae a proper braw belter!”
You groan so loudly you sound like an angsty teen on their phone. You look away, your face too hot to breath properly “Who needs recruiters when they have me! Are you tryin to tell me somethin lass?” He leans in way too fucking close making it hard to breathe.
You whine indignantly “yeah!” You choke out. His eyes brighten and it pisses you off more right now “l found that that military men are really sexy! You’re just a shit example!” You yell out.
He throws his head back in laughter. Finally you can breathe without his smothering proximity. “Awww lass! Don’t be like tha’!”
You huff and don’t meet his face
“Lassie” he calls out, still holding your wrists
“Fuck off Johnny”
“Awww don’t be like that hen. I’m sure it’s a nice way tae keep warm when the real thing isn’t there”
“Johnny I swear to god I will sell you to foreign forces for a corn chip if you don’t shut the fuck up”
“Fee a corn chip? Nae I’m sure you can bargain fer better.” He grins wider and leans back in “like…say….a night with one of their soldiers.”
“Johnny I swear to god-“ He gasps as if he suddenly got an idea “Ye really should show me some!” Your eyes shoot open in horror
“absolutely not!” You yell “ain’t no way!”
He whines and places both hands in the couch ‘wall’ behind you, encasing you. You knew he was going to try and roll persuasion. He rolls a 19 but you roll a 20 on insight and see his roguish mischievousness through those twitter-blue eyes. He lowers himself a bit and looks up at you with those big blue pupper eyes, it’s especially ethos with those bandages “Bonny-” he starts, dripping with faux sincerity
“No.”
“Lass pl-“
“I said no Johnny”
“Hen”
“I said NO Johnny! I will throw Simon at you don’t test me!”
He whines like a dog and encircles me more, trying to apply pressure.
“Princess.”
You sigh, hot faced with anger and embarrassment “what.” He grins.
“I love ye”
Though those sad puppy eyes were optimized to disintegrate your will, they were gleaming with mischief
“shut it” you shove him off to run away but he throws himself on top of you like a clingy dog and pinning you on the couch “don’t gooo, say it baack”
“Get off me!” You whine, fantasizing about locking yourself into your bed room and scream into your pillow
“Not until he tell me I’m more braw then the Bawbags ye read about!”
“Fat chance sergeant suds!” You struggle under his the immovable object that is Johnny with the unstoppable force that is your rage.
But then-lightbulb!
💡💡💡
He’s taught you many things, some of which includes how to evade capture by government agents and how to get out of being pinned. You decide to use one of the tricks he taught you. Usually it might not work on the big bad sergeant soap, but he’s sore, fresh out of the hospital, and hasn’t worked out in weeks. He’s not at full strength. You’ve got this!
“Well then yer stuck here!” He taunts and continues to make fucking fun of you “Why don’t ye write naughty fanfiction of me? I’m amazin’!”
“Oh I’ve got a naughty story for you Sergeant!”
You hook your legs around his waist, shutting him up quick. You shift your hips, buck up hard, pushing your knee against his hip. The unexpected momentum makes him yelp and it rolls him enough to loosen his hold as he instinctively tries to catch himself from falling off the couch.
“long. live. the king!”
You snake an arm free and shove his shoulder with all your Disney movie might, tossing him off the couch with a thud
You scramble to your feet as he stares in surprise “I know all your tricks Sudsy!”
“I taught ye that! Y-ye traitor!” He groans. You turn to skiddadle away.
“Honey wait!” He calls after you but nope! You’re gone! He shoots up to chase you. You slam your door and lock yourself in your bedroom to sulk, scream, punch something and pout.
“This isnae over Bonny!” He says truthfully, not only was there the other stuff to take care of but he has to read some of that! “You cannae escape me forever!”
“I just did!” You scream through your bedroom door and flop on the bed to scream.
“This is war bonny! And I don’t lose!” You can hear his laughter from the other room. He stands there, arms crossed as if waiting for you to come out. After a few beats of silence he decides to grant you a shred of mercy and leave you to your pain. He moves to drop on the couch. He still has work to do, but at least he’s sure you’re definitely innocent. Well, innocent in terms of crime. He still hasn’t read those fics.
He sees Simon and tries to pet him. Simon, however was having none of that. He was being malicious mean and scary and stares at Johnny with a sneer that could curdle dairy as if to say that crime wise his hands are not the cleanest.
He has concluded that Johnny Upset You and refuses to be pet by him till an Official Pardon has been issued by the princess herself.
He hisses grumpily like he’s saying ‘you’ve angered the queen’s envoy, human. No cuddles for you’ and enters your room to comfort you. How? Oh he’s got a dream. Lol jk. Like this:
https://youtube.com/shorts/a-MvV2Oo4cE?si=UMNuw2ndX3Oxj9uC
42 notes · View notes
myunghology · 5 months ago
Note
NOWAY SO UM, i was thinking of a prompt and then i remembered i haven’t seen this theme on ritsu so…
maybe a fic of knight!ritsu and reader being a princess/prince :3?
i have like two ideas for the fic, you can choose the one you like; the first time they meet or being in a secret relationship
Or maybe mix both 👀… ( /j but if you want oke :3 )
and em that’s all, i like your fics and smau, I’m your biggest fan wuuuu :3
✦ — REWRITE, IGNITE, RESTART.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary a normal day in a royal highschool, you find yourself seeking warmth of a young knight, despite meeting him for the „first” time.
pairings ritsu sakuma x gender neutral! reader, ft knights <3, prince/ss x knight au!
warnings none!! wee bit of an ever after high au but i just stole the 'royal and rebel' group things for inspo HAHHA
a/n if only.
Tumblr media
Right. How cliché. A school that seperates students from their origins.. You would complain, but it's not like you could do anything about it. You've made friends here, anyways.
Students separated into two groups— one's with direct Royal status, and one's far from it— or one's who usually served for them. This sounds scandalous, but it really isn't.
Take your friends for example! Tsukasa Suou, the next heir to his family. Of course he was bound to be famous for it. You were also included in that group— the only child of a queen! Obviously, you were close with Suou.
Hmm, yes. Him and his friend group of Knights. And one princess. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have a small girl crush on Arashi.
— "I have never said that! What on earth are you babbling about?!" You snap out if your thoughts as you hear the young heirs voice from across the school's halls, he seems to be arguing with one of his friends again, your eye twitching from the sudden noise.
You approach the noise, seeing the short ex-king, now bound to be a knight. And the up and coming king, Ah. What an old sight. Tsukasa Suou and Leo Tsukinaga, as always.
"Suo~ I was just kidding! You always take jokes seriously.. You're such a killjoy!" Leo growls at him as Tsukasa closes his eyes, as if bracing for impact. My God, don't they get tired from bickering all day?
You feel fingers hands tap you on your shoulder, you turn around and see Arashi standing in front of you. And thus— you can't hold in your complaint anymore.
"Don't they get tired from arguing all day? I feel like I want to shit myself from how much they do it. It's the fifth time this week and it's Wednesday!" You whine, making the young princess in front of you giggle.
"You'll get used to it soon enough," She teases playfully, as the sight unfolds, Sena ironically joining the argument. You sigh, whilst Arashi shakes her head and changes the topic.
"Anyway, love, have you seen Ritsu?" She asks, as you try to hide the visible blush on your face. "No.. Didn't see him in alchemy classes today, actually." You answer, pouting.
"You miss your husband, don't you?" She laughs at your pout, but somehow still managing to tease you. "Don't even... My own parents don't even know that me and Ritsu know each other." You complain internally.
The princess tilts her head, "Seriously?" She asks in pity, your pout slowly getting more visible, as she takes that as a 'yes'.
The day passes by quickly, you find yourself seeking for the young Knight. As a response— you end up going to his favorite sleeping places.
Haaa..~ the young Sakuma. Always wandering around. No wonder why this guy was distantly related to the Cheshire Cat. He was almost exactly like him.
The sun is almost about to set, the school's yard still looking as beautiful as it's always been. You've usually found Ritsu here when he wasn't in classes, I mean.. Who wouldn't? It's gorgeous.
You feel a hand cover your eyes, a frown plastering your face before a voice perks up. "Guess who?"
What a familiar voice. Wow, who could it be?
"Ritsu. I'll kill you." You scowl at him as the male scoff, removing his hand. "Language," Ritsu warned, before ruffling your hair, messing it up slightly.
"I'm sorry, my prince/ss. Do you want me to give you my lap for your royal nap needs? Want a pillow? A blanket, too?"
Ritsu could not be more sarcastic and teasing if he tried.
"What do you mean, 'Language'? I didn't even swear." A tired groan comes out of your lips as you say that, making him laugh. "What's up? You wanted to find me, no?"
". . . . Nuh uh."
"Hah."
"I'm gonna go back home for summer break. You coming with me?" You ask, raising an eyebrow slightly. Ah. That's what it was.
"So.. To put it in words, you're leaving me?" Ritsu asks, cocking his head to the side, replicating your eyebrow raise. "I literally just asked you if you wanted to stay with me." You huff, turning away from him.
"Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah..." He whined, tugging on your hand before you got too far away. As if he already knew you were about to walk away.
"You'll get lost without me. And you'll get into trouble. Don't do that. You're mine, remember?" If anything, Ritsu couldn't stand boredom. He would rather spend his time with his prince/ss than lay around alone and have nothing to do.
"You're usually the one who gets me into trouble." You retort, trying to pull away from his grip, but it was already inevitable.
"... True... true..." He muses, a smirk spreading across his face as he kept his grip on you. "But you love me, remember?"
Ah yes. How could one forget Ritsu's insufferable teasing?
"Unfortunately." A pout plastered on your face, the knight letting out another scoff, shaking his head.
Ritsu gave you a teasing, slightly mocking gasp as he pretended to be offended at such a dry response. "You wound me. Here I am, trying to be a loving, supportive boyfriend, and you're giving me a unfortunately? Where's the 'I love you too?' or the I love you more?'" He groaned dramatically, putting his hand to his forehead.
"You aren't answering my question." Deadpanning, glaring at him as he sighs and caves in. "I can't.." He mutters unexpectedly, making your eyes widen.
That was a rare answer.
The male offers to take you back to your palace, a pout placed on your face the whole way there. Seeing this chance— Ritsu obviously teased you the whole way home.
The sun sets quickly and you're already back, your eye twitching once you hear from your mother to get changed into something proper, as something important came up.
You were now standing, right in the middle of the great hall with your parents, head tilted in confusion.
Until—
"Ah, yes! [Name], my darling," Your mother calls out, before continuing. "We've hired someone new for you— to keep you safe. After what happened before.. I wouldn't even dare to let you out our sight!" She exaggerates, making your head tilt.
"So.. Who's gonna be following me around this time?" You ask, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth before a smooth voice interrupts you— your eyes widening.
"I'm sorry I'm late. Wouldn't be so much of a knight if I was late to meeting you, now would I?" You freeze as a familiar voice comes from behind you as you quickly turn around, seeing the same black haired male you once saw earlier.
Your dad smiles unknowingly, "Ritsu Sakuma, he's gonna be by your side 24/7, from now on!" You laugh sheepishly, before retorting. "Not in my sleep too, right?"
"Do you want me to?" He hums right next to your ear, making you shiver. "No- I just.."
"Relax, [Name]. Me and your mother will go out for just a short amount of time, so he'll be here to keep you safe for the time being." Your father says— in a rather calm voice. "I can take care of myself.."
"Sure you can."
Tumblr media
myunghology: part 2 when hahahah idk bro
63 notes · View notes
esvcort · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
cw: suggestive, nsfw, dubcon-ish(?) if u squint
author's note: my first post, woohoo!! this is literally just an idea dump, very cliché scenarios and idk what this is actually lolll
Tumblr media
the kamisato clan's head finds out about your hobby in an unexpected way. he made the effort to finish all of his tasks for the next two days, an act to spend more time with his lovely wife, having been mostly absent for the first few months of your arranged marriage. it was late in the afternoon when he retired to your shared room, waiting for you to return from your trip to inazuma city. you picked up a hobby to busy yourself with, as he wasn't always around the estate. you have developed a liking for reading books from the yae publishing house, going there at least once a week. his eyes find your desk on the side of the room, with papers haphazardly scattered all over it. he chuckled to himself, shaking his head at your surprising messiness. in an attempt to tidy up the space, his eyes catch some words on the paper in your neat handwriting.
the fireflies had already lit up the night when you arrived. you slip off your geta when you reach the entrance of the estate. your feet are slow and quiet as you walk towards the room, clutching the newly bought books and writing materials close to your chest, afraid to disturb your husband, who must be resting at this time. your eyebrows raise in surprise as you slide the door open to reveal ayato sitting on the edge of the bed.
"my lord! why are you still awake this late at night?" the title you call him makes him smirk. he stands up from his position and stills in front of you. a smile paints his face, and your eyes automatically drop down to the beauty mark under his lips.
"i thought i told you not to call me that, sweetheart." ayato gently pried the materials from your hold and put them down on your nearby desk. an small noise bubbles from your throat as his warm and lithe fingers brush against your hand. "i am your husband, and you are my wife. i believe we're past such formalities, don't you think?" his lavender eyes stared at you as his figure loomed over your own, and he waited for your response.
"i, uh," you stammered nervously as his towering presence created an intimidating aura. you stepped backward, leaned your hands and sat slightly on the desk for support. "i didn't think we were affectionate enough for each other to cross such a line, my lord."
he laughs a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "i suppose, so. although," your heart beats faster as he slowly walks towards you, leaning in close, close enough for your noses to brush each other now and then. this is the closest you've been to ayato in the span of your marriage. the unusual proximity does wonders for you; your heart beats faster, and your senses are heightened. you can feel the warmth of his body as both of his hands cover your own, effectively trapping you against the table. your husband leans over to whisper in your ear. "i would believe you if your insistence on calling me "my lord", didn't remind me of something."
"a-and what may that be, my lord?"
"'my lord's hands slowly inch up the supple skin of my thigh under the fabric, all the while pinning me on his desk.' sound familiar, darling?" your eyes widen in shock, and a strange feeling like electricity crawls all throughout your body.
"that- it's for a book i'm writing!" you turn your head to defend silently, followed by an audible gulp.
"why didn't you tell me you were writing such a book for the yae publishing house, hmm? is that why the books you buy also have such explicit themes, sweetheart?" more embarrassment comes over you in the mention that he has seen the content of your books. you guess the additional plain paper covers you had put over them were not enough.
"well- it- it helps for reference?" you answer, unsure and embarrassed that you had just indirectly admitted your inexperience. ayato lets out a breathless laugh and smirks. he faces you and takes your chin in his hands. he looks down on you; his light purple eyes pulling you into him, hypnotizing you away.
"darling," he purrs, and the deep rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. your breath gets caught in your throat when his hand moves to your shoulder and carefully pushes you down on your back on the desk.
"my lord," you call out weakly, getting lost as you feel him settle himself between your legs. his tall figure hovers above you as his hand reaches the hem of your yukata. he bends down and kisses the corner of your open mouth. the desire to be touched was consuming you.
"if you wanted reference," he bucks his clothed hips on yours and takes pleasure in the pant you breathe out. your legs wrap around his waist, feeling hot as he continues to grind down on you slowly.
"i could show you much more than what your meager book has."
Tumblr media
likes and reblogs are much appreciated!!
515 notes · View notes
flusteredfools · 21 days ago
Note
Could you please give us some ramblings about Summer Daze? Some rambles for the poor?
Oh dear, I can't let you go hungry! hmm... I don't know what to ramble about it. Though I guess I should start off with it's a poly fic, where Sun and Moon are dating before they meet the reader (big surprise.. jk almost like all of my fics will have SunxMoon cause I love them being together XD) (Also sorry if you've already read the two drabbles about this AU in my kinktober collection a lot of it will be what was already shared! but if there's more you're wanting to know you can ask for more!)
AU Summary:  
You’ve always enjoyed the great outdoors. You love nothing more than spending time with nature and exploring and understanding the Earth’s flora and fauna; that seed of passion was planted in you when you were a young child sent off to your first summer camp, Fazbear’s Nature Camp. Fazbear’s Nature Camp was run almost entirely by their animatronics, with the only real human staff being the mechanics that were on call nearby. Now that you were an adult, you wanted to share that same joy and passion with other children; and what better way to do that than by joining up as a camp counselor at that very same summer camp now that they’re accepting human counselors? 
Well specifically two human counselors, and you were lucky enough to be selected! You’ll be working with the middle age group in the team Cosmos cabins with the Sun and Moon animatronics. You hadn’t heard of them, but that’s not too surprising as all the animatronics at the camp are new to you; the older models retired out of the main duties and now only show up on special occasions or certain activities. It made you a bit bummed, not able to show the original Freddy and Chica how much you’ve grown and learned since all those years ago but you’re sure counselor Sun and Moon will be as much of a delight as they were!
Looking at their small bios online had you excited, the two animatronics looked so cute and matched the space theme for the Cosmos cabins so well. At least you were until you met them two weeks before the summer camp opened up to guests; the two celestial animatronics wanted little to nothing to do with you, both having a dislike for adults. Moon pretty much just ignored you, rarely speaking more than one word at a time to you but Sun seemed to hate you from the start; almost actively making things harder for you. It was sad but you were determined to not let it get to you, surely if they could see how much you cared they would at least not continue to try to make you quit… right?
It takes some time for Sun and Moon to warm up to you, with Moon falling for you first and then Sun a bit after. You however, don't realize this until the two have fully spelled it out for you (sorry but you're a bit dense when it comes to love) thinking that all those more flirty teases and jokes are just that and not their awkward attempts to win you over.
Oh and here's some rough concept sketches!
Tumblr media
Here's some Camp T-shirts, Fazbear's Nature Camp logo on the front and the Team Logos would be on the arms and back. Team Flora Counselors: (Glam) Freddy, (Glam) Bonnie, & (Glam) Chica - Rec Age Group 7-10 Team Cosmos Counselors: Sun, Moon & You/Star! - Rec Age Group: 10-14 Team Fauna Counselors: Roxy, Monty, & Lewis/Buck (the other lucky human) - Rec Age Group: 15+
Tumblr media
Counselor Y/N: Very outdoorsy, athletic, and covered with freckles from too much sun exposure. (will have more/various outfits), tucks their ponytail through their hat to help hold it off their neck, isn't afraid of bugs or dirt, can properly clean a fish to eat, though isn't a huge fan of the taste. Enjoys foraging for berries and mushrooms.
Tumblr media
Sun! Extremely friendly and caring towards all children (though less tolerate of the more rowdy groups that tend to come from Team Fauna) has a major dislike for adults - including you. Time not spent with children is spent preparing the next fun thing for them or spent with Moon. Loves to wear all the friendship bracelets he makes with the children, he keeps a few special ones to always wear but most of them end up in a keepsake chest where he can keep them in perfect condition after their superstars leave. He always makes one for each camper, using their favorite colors and their name, with little team cosmos themed beads. Is usually loud and constantly moving, only slowing down or becoming quieter if he notices children who are overwhelmed or bothered by his upbeat actions. Otherwise a quiet Sun is an unhappy Sun. If/when he gets too upset he goes out to chop wood or seeks out comfort from Moon.
Tumblr media
Moon is just as happy and friendly to be around the children, though he doesn't speak nearly as loud or move as frantic as Sun. He happily does tricks or sings songs for his campers, as well as always starts the first story around the campfire. He has a personal collection of comfort stuffed animals, blankets and pillows that he sews himself in between sessions, in case any little superstar feels lonely, missing home or just struggles with sleep. Some of which are scented, weighted and can be safely heated up for extra warmth. He lets them pick whatever they need from his collection and if they want him too, he'd stay with them until they fall sleep in their bunk; he also gives them a small little controller that they can press to alert him if they wake up and need him again. If there isn't a superstar that needs him at night, he'll go to the counselors cabin and sleep on the same bunk as Sun. It's very crowded with the two of them but neither mind. If it's been a rough day, Sun will talk with Moon about whatever he can think up, just non stop chatter and rambling to Moon so Moon can enjoy his partner's voice and presence; just soak up his Sunshine. More often than not Moon will talk to Sun via messages in their private network than out loud, it just feels more comfortable for him that way; he likes the extra feeling of being connected together where it's just them.
I hope that wasn't too much of a ramble... but feel free to ask more if there's something else you'd like to know about them! XD <3
24 notes · View notes