#ignore her backwards hand on that one of her in her bathing suit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

f10werfae · 2 years ago

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I posted 366 times in 2022

That's 334 more posts than 2021!

207 posts created (57%)

159 posts reblogged (43%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@imyourbratzdoll

@cevansbrat0007

@sweetsbfreex

@evansbby

@wndawtch

I tagged 121 of my posts in 2022

#romance - 101 posts

#chris evans x reader - 89 posts

#chris evans imagine - 86 posts

#chris evans fanfiction - 83 posts

#chris evans - 83 posts

#chris evans oneshot - 58 posts

#henry cavill x reader - 28 posts

#henry cavill imagine - 25 posts

#henry cavill - 24 posts

#henry cavill fanfiction - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 29 characters

#chris evans x pregnant!reader

My Top Posts in 2022:

The Summer I Met You

pairing: Chris Evans x Shy!Reader

Summary:Chris meets Shy Reader. The reader is traveling with girlfriends and is mostly ignored and turned on. Such as eating less or talking more. Chris can't look at it more and goes there and says that the reader is beautiful (Req by Anon)

Requests are open/ Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist Full Masterlist Taglist Form

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It was the summer of 2018, a time where Y/n found herself on holiday with some of her friends from high school, granted they weren’t as close before but Y/n couldn’t find it in her heart to say no. Thing is though, a group of guys were coming with them. Stephanie's older brother and his friends, which only made Y/n's social battery already start to sputter.

Arriving at their beach resort on Hawaii, the group of girls and guys got all their luggage, hotel room keys and headed to get settled in. Y/n carried in her small suitcase for the 7 day vacation, the smell of the salt water nearby already heightening her sense in a good way, she always loved being close to nature.

“Ya need any help?” She heard a deep Bostonian accent ask, looking up to see one of the guys on the trip with them, Chris Evans.

Before Y/n could even reply Grace had already spoken for her, “Nah don’t bother with her Chris, she won’t speak to you, that girl’s basically mute”

‘Here it all starts’ Y/n thought to herself, deciding to ignore them all and head on up to her room, if we was going to be on holiday then she was going to enjoy herself.

Her room was beautifully decorated, flower petals all over the place, courtesy of the hotel staff. Y/n has begun unpacking her phone buzzed,

Vacray GC 2022!!

Stephanie: Ok yall meet at 7pm for the dinner downstairs? Until then do what your heart desires :)

Everyone had replied with ‘okays’ so throwing her phone, Y/n got out the tiny notebook she brought with her, there she had written down all the things she wanted to do in Hawaii. Things the others didn’t want to do.

1. Snorkelling

With her bathing suit already on under her tshirt and shorts, all she had to do was gather her valuables and off Y/n went.

(Y/n’s P.O.V)

Closing my hotel room behind me, I bumped into one solid mass, only to hear it grunt right back at me.

“Y/n right?” Rubbing my forehead I looked up to see Chris from earlier, a charming smile on his face, a backwards cap pulling his hair back.

“U-uh yeah, you’re Chris?” I said avoiding eye contact, seemingly finding the floor more interesting than his intimidating dark blue eyes.

“Are you joinin us with the spa massages Stephanie booked?” He asked crossing his arms over his chest, see somehow only us two were put onto this floor, making it that more awkward knowing no one could interrupt this.

“Spa massages?”

“Yeah the one she sent us? She sent the invites separately”

I knew this was going to happen. I was only brought along to be the butt of their jokes, something I expected but was used to. I was not going to waste this vacation

“Uh no. No i’m not. I have my own list” I smiled holding up the tiny blue notepad in my hand, letting him read it when he reached up for it, his eyes concentrating on every single word.

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1,804 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

Mischievous Monkey

pairing: Dad!Chris Evans x Mom!Reader

summary: After a routine family nap, a certain little Evans gets up to harmless no good deeds

-Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist🌟

Full Masterlist💫

Taglist Form✨

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The mid winter afternoon sun spilled into warm living room, casting a soft orange glow over the snoring family. Chris Evans and his family were definitely one to take family naps on the daily, consisting of both his toddler Ellie and wife Y/n.

With an air mattress on the living room floor packed with blankets and pillows, and of course stuffies Ellie refused to sleep without, Elmer the giraffe. Chris lay on his back with one arm folded behind his head, another arm tucking his dear wife into his side and baby Ellie had taken it upon herself to sleep on top of her daddy’s chest.

“mmm” Ellie whimpered nuzzling her head further into her dad’s bare chest, her tiny hands clutching onto one of her mother’s fingers while the other had stuck a thumb into her own mouth for comfort. Dressed in her favourite bambi t-shirt dress, the three year old began to stir from her nap. Letting go of her momma’s finger and thumb, she lifted her head up cutely looking lost, almost forgetting where she was.

Using her diapered bottom as a cushion, the three year old slid off her daddy’s chest, landing with a bounce onto the air mattress. Ellie's specks of brown hair stood up in all directions, her face still puffy from her sweet nap.

“hmph” Looking around she felt bored but didn’t want to venture too far from her parents' side, not when there were boogie monsters hiding somewhere in the house. Her wide eyes looked around the room hopelessly, until a shiny thing by her daddy’s head caught her eye, his phone.

Stumbling to her feet, she tottered over and grabbed the phone with her hands, quiet squeals leaving her when the screen lit up. The three year old checked up on her parents, to see them now snuggling further into each other, oblivious to the antics their baby was getting up to while they snoozed. In fact Y/n now had one leg wrapped around Chris' waist with one arm around his torso, with both Chris' arms wrapping around his wife.

Little Ellie now felt left out and decided to do what she did best, cuddle. Trying to crawl into her parent’s arms seemed impossible, huffing out of her pouty lips she just sat staring at them both. Until the shiny thing once again caught her eye, her interest went further when she recognised the numbers from 1-9 on the screen, something her mom had spent time trying to teach her before kindergarten.

Pressing a wide spread of different numbers that peaked her interest, she got into what looked like a screen with multiple icons and squares, her dad’s homescreen.

“Oo birdie” She whispered seeing a blue icon with a white bird, reminding her of the times she had seen tweetie bird while watching Baby Looney Tunes with her parents during bottle time. She furrowed her brows when a complicated looking thing came up, all types of words and symbols all over the place. ‘messy’ she thought

Seeing the only thing she recognised was a ‘+’ button she decided to press it, with the alphabet coming up underneath giving her free reign to type whatever her heart felt content with. Starting with her ABCs typed out, she smiled proudly to herself before seeing the suggested words pop up above the keyboard.

Ellie clicked rapidly watching an abundance of words pop up onto the screen instantly bringing her tons of joy.

She only felt it was right to press the tick in the corner, thinking it meant she was correct, not realising she had posted it to Chris' 16 million twitter followers. Dropping the phone when she felt her father’s arm wrap around her waist,

“What are you doin up monkey?”

(Chris' P.O.V)

My eyes flickered open, my wife’s head tucked into my neck, with both my arms around her. Placing a soft kiss onto her forehead I turned my head to see my little princess facing away from me,

“What are you doin up monkey?”

“Nofin dada” Ellie replied cutely, my arms bringing her to sit atop my chest, her cute toothy smile making my heart swell with happiness.

To my side I felt Y/n pepper soft kisses onto my neck, signalling that she too was starting to wake up slowly. Sporting that same dazed look as Ellie, my wife lifted up her head and looked around before settling her head on my chest with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey baby” Y/n croaked out, bringing up a hand to cup Ellie's face as she nuzzled into it.

“C'mere love” Y/n cooed shifting over to create a small space between us, Ellie's face lightening up as she hurried to shuffle into the crevice. Her head laying on my torso, with half her body leaning on mine, Y/n’s arms kept around her waist affectionately.

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1,881 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

My Wife, My Love

pairing: Construction!BF!Chris x GF!Reader

Summary: with y/n taking a new job across town, her hunk of a man pays her a steamy visit, and big decisions are made

can be read as part of build up

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 8 years younger and is in early 20s), dirty talk, spit, breast play, penetration, breeding kink, slight humiliation, squirting, oral

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist💫

Full Masterlist✨

Taglist Form⭐️

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(Y/n's P.O.V)

Ever since I had met Chris all those months ago, we had honestly been texting non stop even though I had started a new job as a chef a whole town away. I was missing his cute handsome face, and the way he just loved on me.

After throwing out the rest of food I couldn’t bare to finish, I just sat staring at the dull ass grey walls of my apartment, the atmosphere itself just draining. Sure there were a few family pictures laying about the place and mementos, but nothing ever beats being back home where everything you know is.

With the occasional sext and visit from Chris I was able to get by, although he did say I was not to touch what was his and I was not going to go against that

Even though my pa strongly disapproved of us, mostly due to the age gap, I did not let that waver my decision of seeing Chris. I'm in love with this man.

*Knock Knock*

Letting out a massive sigh I opened the door to see a massive bouquet of flowers being pushed to my face, before I saw a head poke out from the side.

"CHRIS?!" I squealed grabbing the flowers and setting them on the table by the door, jumping straight into his arms, a deep chuckle reverberating through his chest as he brought us inside.

“Well don’t ya look all pretty? Don’t suppose you were dressin' up for someone else were ya sugar?” He teased setting me on one of my bar stools in the kitchen, his hands not letting go of my waist.

“Nuh uh, was jus' thinkin bout you” I replied bitting my lip smirking back at him, his beard had grown and so had his hair, giving him a more matured sexy look.

“Oh yeah? what was you thinkin’ about?”

He inquired leaning in closer to me, his hands situating themselves onto my thighs to rub onto them softly. “Just thinkin thoughts” I said dismissively kicking my legs back and forth.

“Alright alright I won’t push ya, but I got somethin for ya” He laughed taking off his backpack, that’s when my eyes were glued to what he was wearing. A white tight polo shirt that accentuated his body, along with a pair of black trackies, how was this my man?

“This is for you when i’m not around” He said pulling out a brown teddy bear, dressed in construction work, it even had the name tag Chris on it.

“Aw Chris” I pouted taking the furry thing into my arms and hugging it dearly, hell he even sprayed it with his citrus cologne.

“You’re so sweet” I cooed looking up at the older man who I now had wrapped around my finger. Setting the teddy onto the counter behind me, I brought my hand up to behind his neck and pulled him down for his lips to meet mine.

My soft pink ones being pressed against his, it wasn’t long before I felt his tongue probing at my lips to open them, which he did. His teeth clashing against mine as his tongue ravaged my mouth, both of our lips now shiny with saliva as he pulled away smirking.

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2,331 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

Flashed a Tit

pairing: Husband!Chris x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Y/n finds a way to win over an argument with Chris, with the help of her tits ‼️Spicy fluff‼️

-Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist💫

Full Masterlist✨

Taglist Form🌟

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“Y/n didn’t I tell you not to go out to the shop on your own?! Especially now that you’re showing” Chris shouted pacing around the kitchen, his hands ruffling roughly through his hair whilst he got Y/n a glass of milk. Poor Y/n sat on one of the stools in their kitchen, clutching the packet of chocolate chips to her chest tightly; her 7 month bump proudly popped.

“But I just wanted some cookies n’ I didn’t want to wake you, you’ve just gotten home Chris” She argued setting the cookies onto the cold marble counter, watching her husband aggressively open the fridge and pull out the carton.

“Y/n you know that I would go above and beyond for you, I don’t care if i’ve just ran across the world twice, I don’t want you on your own out there” He grumbled pouring out the last of the milk before throwing the carton into the recycling trash bin, his face still slightly red from when he was really angry when Y/n first came in.

“I’m sorry Chrissy�� Y/n pouted tugging on her husband’s shirt, to no avail, he instead handed her the glass of milk and opened her cookies for her.

“Nope i’m allowed to be angry for at least 20 more minutes” He groaned walking to the other side of the kitchen, putting away the stuff he had brought out. Y/n felt herself smile slightly when she got this amazing idea, that same morning she had seen tiktok trends of girlfriends flashing their boyfriends during an argument.

“Ya know I still can’t believe you did that-“

With his back turned away from her, Y/n put her hair behind her shoulders, “Chris look here” She said, immediately pulling up his shirt she was wearing, revealing both of her now swollen breasts to him.

Chris' eyes just widened and his mouth opened in shock, his sentence lost in his throat as a small smile slowly found its way onto his face.

“Ya can’t jus' do that bunny, that isn’t fair” He groaned, his teeth biting onto his bottom lip to keep his smile small. His eyes following her as she pulled down his shirt to cover herself up again, smirking to herself she turned to face her treats once again, knowing she had won.

“Hm well are you still mad at me?” She asked,

“God no, are ya kiddin? Just saw my wife’s tits” He laughed walking over, picking up one of Y/n's cookies, and dipping it in milk before feeding it to her. His heart going a thousand miles an hour when he saw her wiggle in her seat, enjoying one of her many midnight snacks which had become a daily routine now.

“Baby can you get some marshmallows?”

“I don’t know bunny, might be too-“

Before Chris could protest again, Y/n had pulled up her shirt again, Chris' eyes falling to her chest causing him to sigh.

“No honey, it’s not gonna work twice in a row in one night” He groaned closing his eyes and shaking his head,

“Not even if I let ya touch them?” She teased giving him a little shake of her chest,

“I-Uh damn okay fine, but it’s gotta be a long one ok?”

“Fine by me baby” Y/n smiled watching her husband grab the mallows, he gave her one hell of a wet kiss before passing over her newly acquired marshmallows. His eyes trained on the globes under her shirt,

“Honey-“

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2,825 notes - Posted October 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

That ass though

pairing: Husband!Dad!Chris x Short!Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: Y/n is on another one of her missions of teasing Chris, everyone knows he’s an ass man, but who knew leggings had so much power?

Warnings: Smut

Requests are open/Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

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“Look Noah, it’s mama” Chris said holding up Noah's hand to wave it at his momma, Noah's face widening with a smile as his arms stretched out for Y/n to hold him.

“Woah hold on, when did ya get these?” Chris asked his wife smirking slightly, his fingers looping themselves inside her waistband to tug her closer to him. Noah who was in her arms had his head tucked into the crook of her neck, his arms barely wrapping around her due to how small he still was.

“Hmm what do you mean?” Y/n asked playing coy, her hands smoothing over the top of Noah’s head, his tiny coos filling the kitchen.

“I think you know what I mean baby, lookin' good enough to eat over here” He groaned suddenly groping her ass aggressively, even slapping it just to watch it jiggle in his palm, God was he mesmerised.

“Stop it Chris, your son’s here” Y/n laughed padding about the kitchen, trying to lull the clearly restless Noah into a soft sleep. Before Chris took Noah out of her arms and said he was off to put him down in his crib for a while, although we all know he had an ulterior motive.

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“I’m a lucky man” Chris groaned sipping on a cold beer, leaning on the edge of the counter just watching his wife move about the kitchen gracefully.

“Chris I didn’t actually think you’d like them this much? I mean Nancy said it worked wonders but- OW”

Y/n squealed jumping up a little, Chris’ hands coming behind her to give her one hell of a spank, I mean she always knew he was an ass man. We all knew. Turning around to face him, Y/n felt herself swoon at his charming smile and the animalistic growls coming from his mouth as he grabbed and kneaded her ass.

“What’d ya say we get that ass outta those leggings and we can have some fun before our baby wakes up? Man I just love your fuckin’ body” He whispered, his hands grabbing onto her love handles gently, his lips pressing an affection kiss onto her forehead.

“Well I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, how fast do you think you can cum?”

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(Chris' P.O.V)

“Come on Chrissy, give it back” my wife moaned as I gently slid my hardened cock out of her slippery fuck hole, the sounds of her sopping wet cunt filling the room. Her eyes half lidded with her hands intertwined with mine, her hips slowly started to roll against the air.

Slapping my cock on her swollen lips, I heard her wince and whimper, her beautiful tits sitting there perked up looking pretty.

“Come on baby, look at your pretty puffy pussy, knew I missed her” I taunted slowly pushing myself back in, her breath getting caught in her throat as her hands now held onto my forearms which were by my stomach.

“Look at me. Be a good girl, and cum on my fat cock”

(Y/n's P.O.V)

Chris slammed his hips repeatedly into mine, whispering things like “my beautiful perfect wife, all pretty for me to worship”

My arms now linked around his neck, my eyes starting to close due to the immense pleasure coursing through my body.

"Your body is fucking perfect. I'm obsessed with it. I'm not cumming until you do. So, cum for me."

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3,299 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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cansomebodypleasemarrymeasap · 3 years ago

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These are AMAZING!! Don’t ever worry about spamming me - I love it!! 😍😍😍

I was gonna post some of these separately, but I didn’t wanna spam you again @cansomebodypleasemarrymeasap xD so I put them + a bunch of other random ones on this canvas LOL

These r some of the doodles of them I’ve made over the past like,,,8 months so they don’t all. Look the same bc my art style is Very Inconsistent

I hope you don’t mind me posting these- I know the fics a few of them r based on have since been removed, so I hope it’s alright that I put these on tumblr!

None of these rlly have anything to do w/ eachother I just wanted to fill up this Giant canvas lololol also srry for the excessive watermarks I just know how the internet is

Tumblr police pls don’t take this down

Anyways. In honor of you posting them again. Here r some of my doodles of them I’ve made since uhh September of last year <3

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katsukikitten · 3 years ago

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Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

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darthmaulification · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! Can I please make a request for a short Drabble where reader is Grogu’s nanny aboard the Razor Crest and Din develops a crush on her, but once he and the reader start visiting Grogu at Jedi School on weekends, Luke develops a crush as well? Doesn’t have to end up with either, but I would like to see either guy’s rivalry and slight jealousy (with Reader’s obliviousness).

A/N: ... okay so, i really got into the whole crush aspect of your request, anon, and this basically became a romantic prose piece. when i looked back to see what you had initially wanted, my product was... about thrice removed from the original prompt. 💀

i think i got some of the points??? like there’s din and luke and they’re both in love with reader and they both have a bit of rivalry with the other and basically that’s what matters??? please forgive me, anon, the ghost of sappho took my body over and forced me to write yearning love poetry!! 🙏 sis forced my hand!! 😭

though if there’s enough interest for it, i can always make a follow up for this, like from reader’s perspective, and write something a lil more in depth (once i get requests finished up that is). 😊

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: nothing but din and luke pining for reader, gn!reader (for the most part), use of she/her pronouns, fluff, but also a smidgen of angst 👁👁, perspective difference!!, kind of a commentary on mandalorian and jedi culture?? (mostly jedi culture lmao)

word count: 1,524

You’re beautiful.

He sees it now how your face lights up like candles being lit when his son succeeds at doing another one of his Jedi tricks. Joy illuminates your face like a spotlight, your soft cheers and kind praise make the whole room warmer. Din watches Grogu leap into your arms, cooing and squealing like he’s been given candy. It makes Din’s heart leap when you kiss his son on the head, and smile so warmly it’s like your lips become sunshine.

Din is infinitely grateful for his helmet in this moment, his face feels like it’s been too close to a fire. His fingers pick at a fraying stitch on his gloves, to prevent his hands from shaking in his lap. He hopes that the Jedi, who is standing casually across the room near you and Grogu, doesn’t notice. Din hopes you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

I’m in love.

The sentence slips through the cracks of his thoughts the way a sunrise peeks over the horizon. You look over at him, holding up Grogu triumphantly in your hands like you would a prize, and he sucks in a breath because suddenly it feels like all he can see is you. You and Grogu, you and his son.

Please be my riduur.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t it amazing?” And Din forces himself to dip his head in a slight nod, because the Jedi is also looking at him with piercing blue eyes the color of the sky. His heart pounding, and when you laugh, and it sounds like summertime when everything is good and happy.

People love, he thinks as he stares at you, and suddenly his palms are sweaty and he feels the need to tap his foot, but Mandalorians love harder.

I dream about you every night, think about you when I lie awake. You’re always holding sunflowers, and the nightmares don’t touch me then.

Mandalorians love like there is nothing else in the universe more valuable, nothing more precious, not their vibroblades, their blasters, or even their beskar.

Giving up a blaster and a vibroblade in order to save you from that hut’uun came to me like breathing, I didn’t even think about it... I would’ve given up my beskar’gam too. I still would.

Mandalorians love with their souls laid bare, they love with their entire body, they love with sacred vows, exchanged beskar rings, their riduur’s name engraved on their hal’cabur, above their heart.

When you slept beside me one night, I whispered the entire marriage vow to you in Mando’a. You looked so peaceful bathed in the light of the moon, the silvery glow making you look holy. I’ll admit, it came out mostly accidentally, but it felt so normal, natural even. I wish you hadn’t been asleep.

Mandalorians love in spite of death, they love in the face of it. They love like warriors.

I had gotten shot. All I remember is you holding me in your arms, hands pressed over the wound. I was in pain, and you were crying, covered in blood and dirt, but you were so warm. I’m still unsure if I had actually said what I think I said:

“I care about you too much to leave you.”

He wants to tell you all of this, but he’s never been much of a romantic, or much of a speaker in general, so the words falter on his tongue each time he’s tried. And Din’s tried so many times. You say something to the Jedi, and it makes a sudden, surprising fury bubble in his chest, the vile rising to his throat. Din has to bite his tongue to hold back from shouting:

Don’t talk to her, di’kut jetii! You are undeserving of her words, of her time, of her presence. Unworthy! You can’t give her what I can, shabuir.

You look over at him again, and the hot anger dies completely, leaving him powerless before you. Din felt this way each time he’s tried to tell you how much you mean to him.

I love you, cyare.

It feels like your eyes are boring holes straight through his beskar, through his flight suit, singing his skin with their warmth. Din bites his cheek so hard he tastes copper.

You smile. It’s like the dawn.

You are the sun— His sun— of his universe, and his eyes burn from the light.

Din basks in the rays, and his heartbeat starts to slow to it’s normal, steady rhythm.

Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow.

You’re beautiful.

He sees it now in how your entire expression blooms into one of pure joy when his padawan successfully levitates the crates. It radiates in your aura, the waves of mirth traveling further than your respectfully quiet cheers and meaningful praise. Luke watches as the child leaps into your embrace, babbling without forming any actual words. Something inside Luke lurches when you place a kiss on Grogu’s head, and when your vibrant smile dissolves his willpower.

Luke draws the Force in on himself, welcoming the sturdiness it brings. He tries to ignore how his palm has gotten sweaty, but he clenches his hand into a fist and hastily relaxes it. Focus, let in calmness like a breeze. Luke hopes that the Mandalorian, sitting stiff and looming on a far bench, doesn’t notice his moment of vulnerability. He pulls the Force closer, and hopes you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

I’m in love.

The thought springs up in his mind the way shoots of new grass breach top soil in spring time. You glance over at him as you lift the child, and the look is as quick and fleeting as blossoms on trees, but it floats in the Force like dandelion seeds, and Luke is painfully aware of how consuming you are.

Please don’t do this to me.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t it amazing?” And Luke catches your eye, offering you the smallest smile he can afford without it breaking. You look to the Mandalorian, and Luke follows your gaze because he can’t compel himself to do much else. The Mandalorian’s visor is dark like the night, and flashes when he nods his head. Luke feels his heart sink when he senses it from him, a yearning so deep he nearly drowns in it.

People love, Luke thinks and he feels all at once envious and angry and so achingly acquiescent, because Jedi cannot.

I swore by the Code years ago, but I look at you and doubt it all. It can’t be that I’m this willing to rethink everything.

Jedi are forbidden from having attachments, they cannot pursue romantic interests. Love leads to passion, and it all is an influence of the Dark. Luke knows this. He’s fallen to it before.

I’ve spent decades forgetting how deeply I cared for him! But I am reminded daily of my father, every time I look in the mirror, I see his eyes. How dare you pull me back into this cruel trap! I can’t do this again.

Luke contains himself. Jedi value peace of mind, they extend the sentiment to upholding it in the galaxy as well. They do not do it out of love, but out of obligation, out of honor, because of what’s right. They are not love.

When I first met you it was like I’d seen you before, in a past life. It was like retracing my steps, following the trail backwards, revisiting something I had passed. Despite it all, I had moved forward and took my padawan from you and the Mandalorian, plucked him from you like a petal off a flower. I watched you wilt.

Luke reminds himself. Jedi do not love. Focus is key. The Force is everything.

But you are too.

Luke has to swallow in order to make sure the words never reach his mouth, and it’s like eating thorns. You turn back to him and the look in your eyes is tender like butterfly wings. The pink in your cheeks reminds Luke of windflowers.

“Thank you again, Luke,” His soul shivers when his name sounds in your voice, “It’s so kind of you to teach Grogu.”

As he replies and tells you it’s a pleasure, he almost spills everything to you, but an abruptness shifts the energy of the room. There is a lurking anger that crawls at him through the Force, entwines him like ivies. The Mandalorian fumes, the wrath trembles like billowing leaves. Don’t. Undeserving. Unworthy.

Luke forces himself to agree and squashes down everything, pushing each painful emotion into the deepest parts of him. He watches you look to the Mandalorian, your aura flowers with affection, love.

I love you.

His resolve is fading, again. Luke reminds himself, again. Jedi do not love. Jedi do not love. Jedi do not love.

You smile, and it stings his soul like nettle.

Luke forces himself to ignore that your eyes say different things when they settle on the Mandalorian than they had him. The thought feels like eating bittersweet berries.

Briefly, he revels in what could have been.

It’s for the best.

A/N: i thought i would add another note at the end of this to explain exactly what the heck i was saying with the word soup i just wrote.

first, din is so hopelessly in love with reader that it hurts. like physically makes his heart ache. i feel that when din falls in love, he falls in love. it consumes him. i wrote a lot of sun/light imagery to portray the overwhelming, all-encompassing love din feels for reader. you are the sun that warms him, and burns him.

second, i purposely made luke have an even more tragic, even more conflicted crush on reader, on purpose, hahaha i am evil. 😈 he loves you, but forces himself not to. he tells himself that the jedi code means more. luke chooses to suffer because he knows that’s how it must be. there’s some plant/nature symbolism thrown throughout because that’s just the theme that i thought vibed with luke the most.

and that mention of anakin? i subscribe to the headcanon that luke really did love his dad, and just wanted him in his life, but of course, vader ultimately died. luke took a heavy blow from that, learned it hurts to love.

also, regarding the mini-rivalry that takes place, it’s through the force (if that wasn’t obvious) and it’s essentially another example of luke surrendering his own wants/desires and simultaneously din firmly declaring his love for you. it’s kinda meant to be the “understanding” between the two that clearly establishes who “wins” the reader.

... this was all one giant metaphor, huh?

#star wars #din djarin #luke skywalker #din djarin x reader #luke skywalker x reader #star wars din djarin #star wars luke skywalker #din djarin x you #luke skywalker x you #anon ask #anon #request

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charmingyong · 3 years ago

Text

The Rose’s Queen

Genre: prince!Taeyong x hotel manager!reader, humour, fluff

Warnings: just a teeny bit of angst… I tried to keep this angst free

Word count: 12k

Plot: Prince Taeyong didn’t want to marry the King’s choice from Yong Land. With his servant Doyoung, he traveled abroad to search for his Queen.

A/N: Inspired by Coming to America. A Taeyong special for his birth month :D

- ❀ -

His eyes were closed, head leaning backwards and resting on the pillow beneath him. Candles were lined up along the ledge, burning to give off the scent of his favourite flower. The rose aromatherapy bath always relaxed his senses, and the peaceful moment didn’t last too long when-

“Your Highness!”

Taeyong didn’t need to open his eyes to see who it was and let out a heavy sigh. “What is it, Dons?”

“It’s your birthday today.”

“That I know. As you can see, I’m enjoying my present.” Rose baths were only prepared for the young prince on special occasions, including birthdays. On other days, lavender, chamomile, sandalwood, ylang ylang, jasmine, and other varieties found in the garden were used to prepare the prince’s bath.

Doyoung scoffed. “And you are now at the age when the King will be preparing your marriage with the future queen.”

Out of surprise, Taeyong lost grip and slipped under the water.

“Your Highness! Don’t leave us!” he cried dramatically.

Taeyong’s head popped up, shaking off the water and brushed back the long, now wet, silver strands. “Stop being dramatic.”

The servant sighed. “It’s a shame.”

The prince sent an unpleasant glare.

“Your Highness, the King has prepared an event tonight for the announcement of-”

“And before that even happens...” Taeyong stood up from his lukewarm bath and wrapped himself with a robe, tying it closed. “I have to speak with him.”

“Yong, my pride! Happy birthday. Have a seat, son. Your favourites have been prepared for you.” The King beckoned for the servants to serve the young prince.

But Taeyong didn’t sit down in his usual seat at the other end of the table. He marched over to the King. “May I have a word with you?”

“Of course, have a seat here,” his father responded by pointing at the chair on his right.

Taeyong plopped down and refused the sweets that a servant offered, shocking that the prince rejected sweets on his birthday. The matter was indeed a grave one. “This is about tonight.”

“Ah yes. Doyoung must have relayed the message to you.”

Speaking of him, the man with the resemblance of a bunny entered the dining hall, frantically searching for the young prince. “Your Highness, you could have at least worn your undergarment,” he huffed, holding a tray with Taeyong’s silky boxer neatly folded.

The male servants stifled back their laughter while the female ones blushed hard at the impure thoughts.

Taeyong only rolled his eyes at Doyoung and focused back on the King. “Why must I go for the queen of your choice?”

“Yong, we chose the best queen for the next king.”

And the prince didn’t like it, especially having met her once at a formal ball where she only did as trained and asked. “But I don’t want her to look at me only as the future king, I want her to look at me as Taeyong, which she can’t do. Please father, I’ve spent all my life doing everything you say. I’ve done my very best to train myself in becoming the next best king in Yong Land. Can I at least have a say in the selection for the next queen? Please?” Taeyong pleaded with soft eyes, hoping to melt the King’s heart.

The King thought for a bit before sighing in defeat. “I want you to be happy. But I also do not want any compromises for the future of this kingdom. If you can find a queen who can rightly stand by your side for the kingdom, then there shouldn’t be any problem.”

A huge grin was plastered on the young prince, relieved that it went a lot more smoothly than predicted. “Thank you very much. I’m sure my choice for queen won’t disappoint you or the people.”

The King gave him a nod. “Very well then. But how will you select your queen? Our kingdom is very small and surely you won’t find your queen here.”

Taeyong smiled, having already thought that through. “With your permission, I will travel abroad with Doyoung as assistant to find my queen.”

Doyoung was dumbfounded by the sudden request without prior notice. “We are?”

The King nodded. “You have my permission.”

- ❀ -

There was one thing Taeyong had to do before leaving for the quest.

His pet.

His best friend.

His family.

His dragon.

The dragon whimpered, saddened by the prince’s leave, and crouched down, nearing its head by the prince’s stance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon with a surprise,” Taeyong said in a tender tone as he lovingly stroked his dragon’s face, placing a kiss on the top of its head.

- ❀ -

Taeyong stepped out of the airport and was met with the busy streets and tall buildings. He breathed in the fresh air, smiling to himself as he bathed under the sunlight. “The air is certainly more polluted than back home. Don’t you think, Dons?”

The said servant panted as he wheeled the luggage bags in each hand, annoyed that the prince had so much to carry. “I recommend traveling light next time.”

Taeyong scoffed. “I need it all to maintain my beauty.”

“You don’t need anything. You’re gorgeous without having to try.”

“I wonder if you truly mean that or you’re saying it to reduce your load.”

Doyoung fake smiled. “To be honest, both.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “How are we arriving at the accommodation?”

Numerous taxi cars awaited along the curb, and Doyoung pointed at them. “One of these vehicles should help us.”

The prince hummed and waited for Doyoung’s next move, and when he didn’t budge from his spot, Taeyong asked, “Are you not going to prepare the transportation?”

Doyoung groaned. “You really can’t do anything on your own, huh?” Doyoung was lucky that he grew up by Taeyong’s side, otherwise he would have been reprimanded by the royal member. He dragged the baggages to one of the stopped cars. “Can you drive us to the most luxurious hotel around here, please?” he asked.

The taxi driver nodded. “Hop in, mate.”

During the ride, the man frequently checked his review mirror, taking note of Taeyong’s hairstyle and decided to give him some free, though unasked for, advice. “Mate, if you didn’t have a pretty face like that, you’d be mistaken for being a grandfather.” Taeyong scowled at the driver while Doyoung nearly burst out laughing before covering his mouth. “No offense, but do you have a girlfriend, mate?”

Doyoung replied, “We’re here to search for his queen.”

The driver was amused by the choice of title. “Won’t be finding one with a hair like that.”

Taeyong scowled. “There’s nothing wrong with my hair,” he defended. It was his charm and he wasn’t going to let it go.

Doyoung stared out the window at the pedestrians and took note of the popular hairstyles for men in the area. “He is right. We have to change your hair if you want to win your queen’s heart. Excuse me, could you please detour to the best hairdresser nearby?”

The prince was forced down onto the swivel chair by the servant. “Quit frowning or you’ll get wrinkles,” Doyoung taunted.

That made Taeyong lessen his frown marginally.

“Damn son, where did you come from? I’ve never seen hair like this before,” the hairdresser asked as he prepared his tools.

Taeyong observed himself in the mirror. He had a deep attachment with his silver locks and couldn’t imagine having it cut. “Touch it and I’ll behead you,” he threatened dangerously under his breath.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing!” Doyoung exclaimed and turned to the prince. “You can’t say that here,” he hissed in a hushed tone.

“Alright then, I’ll be cutting his mullet off. What about the colour? Do you want to keep it or change it up?”

Doyoung and Taeyong blurted out at the same time. “Change.” “Keep.”

Taeyong glared at the taller boy and argued. “I’m already sacrificing my hair. Can I at least keep the colour?”

Doyoung ignored him and requested the hairdresser to change it to “Brown.”

The two walked into the foyer of the grand hotel. Taeyong looked up at the high ceiling where grand chandeliers hung elegantly, lighting up the vintage hotel in a mesmerizing manner. “Nice,” he approved.

Doyoung strolled up to the receptionist and asked her, “Do you have a deluxe suite available for immediate reservation?”

She nodded. “Yes, we do. I can book one for you,” she replied and began typing into her system.

Taeyong leaned against the counter and found a couple of girls from a distance stare at him, giggling amongst themselves. He smirked and silently greeted them with a nod. They squealed, blessed to have such an ethereal being notice them.

“Looks like I still have the effect despite my changed hairstyle.”

“See? Just because you don’t have a unique haircut doesn’t mean you’re no longer special.”

“I still haven’t let go of my grudge.”

“And I don’t expect you too.”

Taeyong scowled. “I’ll behead you.”

Doyoung scoffed.

The concerned receptionist looked between them and the servant noticed. “Don’t worry. It’s his favourite empty threat.”

She only nodded and said, “I have one ready. What name should I book it under?”

“Your Highness.”

The woman’s jaw hung open. “Sorry?”

Taeyong elbowed him hard which resulted in the poor man to grunt out in pain. “Please book it under Taeyong.” He glared at the boy beside him. “You have to use my name at times like this!”

“I can never be disrespectful and utter your name!”

Taeyong huffed, knowing that his servant only had the courage to drop formalities but would never dare to speak of the royal name.

The woman warily watched the men and handed over the card keys, informing, “Your suite 2707 is on the 27th floor. The bell staff are at the front and you can request them for assistance to bring your belongings up.”

Doyoung retrieved it with a bow. “Thank you.” He passed one to the prince. “You can go up to the suite while I have the staff bring the bags.”

Taeyong found the elevator and pressed the button. The doors opened and he walked in, pressing 27. Just as the doors were about to close, he heard a loud “Wait!” Taeyong quickly stopped the doors from closing and his breath got caught in his throat when he saw you burst in.

You were relieved to have caught it in time instead of having to wait for the elevator to return. You casually thanked the man and pressed the top floor of the hotel.

Taeyong’s cheeks dusted pink as he shamelessly gawked at your beauty, your cream-coloured blouse amplifying your radiance. “No problem.” He was surely blessed by the divine beings to have found his queen on his first day abroad. “Do you come here often?”

You blinked at the man, flabbergasted by his inquiry. “Sorry?”

“Will I see you around here often?”

You nodded slowly. “Yes, you will.” You didn’t have a name tag like the staff as you were a special person at the hotel. Not only were you the hotel manager, but also the daughter of the wealthy man who owned the establishment.

He hummed and stuck out his hand. “I’m Taeyong.”

You stared at his hand incredulously. Sticking to professionalism, you ignored his hand and replied back with your name and a courteous smile.

Taeyong dropped his hand to his side and the elevator doors opened to his floor. He stepped out and faced you. “I hope to see again, Y/N,” he beamed, his bright face not wavering when you didn’t meet the excitement. You quirked an eyebrow at him as if he were crazy. Taeyong was surely desperate to meet someone who he had been with for a brief moment.

The doors reopened once reaching the penthouse of the hotel and on the way to your room, a smile grew on your face. He’s interesting, you thought.

Taeyong plopped onto an armchair happily, munching on the sweets available as complimentary upon entry into the luxurious suite.

When Doyoung came inside with the bellhop behind him, Taeyong announced, “I found my queen.”

Doyoung rapidly blinked. “We've just arrived here and you found her already?”

“I met her on the elevator.”

“That’s interesting. Who is she?”

“Y/N.”

Doyoung blinked. “Y/N who? What does she do for a living?”

Taeyong shrugged. “I only know her name.”

“What? Your Highness, you can’t decide on a queen just by knowing her name. You have to learn about her too.”

Taeyong shrugged. “There wasn’t enough time. But I do know that she’s here.”

- ❀ -

Taeyong and Doyoung walked up to the receptionist. The prince leaned against the counter as the servant inquired, “Is there a garden nearby with roses? We would like to handpick some.”

The receptionist lady nodded. “Yes. In fact, our hotel has a garden exclusively for the guests and there’s plenty there for you. It’s located down the hallway with the amenities.”

“Ah, thank you very much. Let’s go, Your Highness.”

The woman looked at the servant with a puzzled face when hearing the title again before shaking her head and resumed back to her tasks. Just as the two men were about to leave for the garden, you walked up to the desk. Your eyes met Taeyong’s and he pushed himself off the counter to watch you with full attention. He took note of your outfit, casual activewear which was a contrast to the professional attire he had last seen on you.

You ignored him and asked Sana for any updates, to which she replied with a no.

“What updates do you speak of?” Taeyong asked curiously with his head tilted.

Guess this was the time to reveal yourself. “I'm the manager and daughter of the man who owns this hotel.”

Doyoung’s eyes went wide at the news of the prince’s future queen being of nobility. Meanwhile, Taeyong’s lips curled up at the information. Even if you weren't from a noble background, he still would have chosen you as his queen. Now there was no way that his queen selection would be rejected by the King.

“We shall take your leave,” Doyoung said and pulled Taeyong by his arm for the direction of the garden. You watched them leave with a blank look as Taeyong’s bright eyes didn't leave from yours and waved his hand.

When the men were out of sight, you asked Sana, “Did Ten arrive?”

She nodded. “Yes, he’s in the studio.”

“Okay. I’ll be there for a bit.”

At the garden, Doyoung got to work with handpicking fresh roses while Taeyong strolled around with hands clasped behind his back. He stopped by one and bent down to take a deep breath in. The scent filled his lungs and went into a state of bliss for a brief moment. He needed to pick that one out for you.

After ending their quest with Doyoung carrying a bag full of roses, they walked down the passageway for the main lobby. Taeyong hummed happily, twirling the stem between his thumb and index finger. His steps slowed when hearing music start from a room. “Where’s that sound coming from?”

Doyoung’s ears perked up. “I think from that room,” he pointed to a dance studio. The door was slightly ajar and curiosity got them to lean their heads against the door. There was a huge mirror covering the wall and in front of it was you.

Boy Bye by Helly Luv blasted from the stereo system and you appeared in their sight. Taeyong’s breath hitched when seeing you dance so smoothly and precisely to the music, being mesmerized by the way your hips moved.

Got a crown on my head make Boys bow down "Are you ready for the Queen?" We shout out loud

Taeyong smiled at the lyrics. He was ready to take you back home as the queen. He could envision the people cheering happily for your entry, and bowing with respect as you’d walk past them.

He definitely needed to see you with the crown on your head.

I don't wanna hate you Boy I try This is for my bitches Ride and die

“Biches? What’s that?” Taeyong asked with scrunched brows.

Doyoung shook his head. “Maybe it was beaches, as in the shore?”

The prince hummed. “I see.”

I don't lose Sit on my throne Sippin' on champagne, gotta pick up my phone You lose

Taeyong was so whipped for you that he couldn’t wait to see you sit in the throne, sipping on champagne, wine, and tea out of your golden cup.

The dance break initiated and you swapped places with Ten. Taeyong was confused where the unknown man came from as Ten did his solo dance before the chorus returned. And that was when Taeyong became furious, seeing the man touch you during the dance.

“How dare he touch my queen! I’ll behead him!” he grumbled through gritted teeth.

Doyoung rolled his eyes and reminded, “Your Highness, she’s not your queen yet.”

When the song ended, you plopped down onto the floor, breathing heavily. “That was fun.”

Ten snickered. “More fun than being a manager, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at him, staying quiet on that. It wasn’t that you hated helping your father out with managing the hotel, but you wished to do something more exciting.

Knock knock!

Your eyes snapped up to the door, finding Taeyong and his friend from earlier. “May we come in?” the charming man asked.

Standing up, you invited them in. “Of course, please come in. Can I help you with something?” you asked with the manager tone that you had been taught to use on guests.

Taeyong could see that you didn’t suspect him and his servant secretly observing your dance and so he didn’t bring it up. He couldn’t have the future king be labeled as a spy. “Yes, I was in the garden and I found this rose. It appears to be lacking something. Can you have a look at it, please?” he asked, holding the rose up for you.

What a bizarre request, you thought, but you did as asked. You took hold of the red rose and inspected it, even taking a sniff of its aroma. Nothing seemed off about it and replied, “Well, it seems perfect to me. What’s wrong with it?” You were very confused when Taeyong had picked out the most perfect flower you would see in aesthetic pictures.

Taeyong hummed while softly staring at you. “Now it’s perfect. The rose was just lacking its queen.”

Doyoung started choking on the air while Ten let out an amused “Ooo~”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks from his flirting, his smirk making your heart beat faster and you muttered under your breath, “What are you?”

- ❀ -

The next morning, you woke up in your plush bed. Sitting up, you stretched your arms above your head and yawned. You suddenly thought of the handsome man staying at the hotel, thinking about the way he had been friendly with you, flirting with you. You looked at the rose resting on the nightstand, sinking in the sunlight that seeped through the uncovered windows.

Sighing out a breath, you slipped into your slippers and strolled through the hallway, arriving at the breakfast table where your father’s secretary Kim stood.

“Good morning, Y/N,” the middle-aged man smiled.

“We’ll see how today goes before determining it’s a good morning.” Your day could get hectic and hair-grabbing depending on the number of guest complaints. “We have a meeting soon with the marketing team, right?”

Kim nodded. “Yes.”

In the conference room, the team lead was presenting information that highlighted the daily and monthly sales revenues. To increase the sales, the leader suggested to create advertising campaigns for promoting the hotel. In the midst of the speech, you didn’t realize that you had zoned out until you heard, “How does that sound, ma’am?”

All eyes were on you and you grew flustered and slapped your cheeks to snap out of your daze, making the team concerned if you were feeling unwell. You were once again thinking about the alluring man that went by the name Taeyong. “Sorry, I- can you please send me a copy of the report?” you asked, pressing your lips together from the embarrassment.

You walked into the dining area where various sweets were on display as complimentary for the guests. During your routine check, your eyes traveled around the seating area to make sure the guests were enjoying the treats and immediately spotted Taeyong a few tables away, sitting with the same man you saw from before.

Taeyong felt your gaze while eating his slice of chocolate cake. He turned his head to meet your eyes, sending a wink your way while smirking.

You looked away with your erratic heartbeat. Why is this happening, you thought pointlessly. You knew you were falling for the man whose identity you didn’t know of yet.

- ❀ -

Though Taeyong would love to spend the entire day in the hotel unexpectedly bumping into you, he did want to go out and see the kind of world that you lived in.

Taeyong and Doyoung walked up to the receptionist, the same one they had always encountered since they first arrived. At that point, the prince had memorized the name on her nametag, Sana.

Just when Doyoung was about to open his mouth, Taeyong beat him and leaned against the ledge asking, “Ms. Sana, can you recommend some things to do around the city? I would love to learn some things that my queen-to-be has grown accustomed to living around.”

Sana’s eyes went wide from the latter. “Sorry?”

Doyoung nervously chuckled and added, “Haha sorry, please don’t mind what he said.” He turned to the prince and harshly whispered, “Can you stop using the word queen around casually?”

Sana looked around, landing on your graceful figure leisurely strolling up to her desk. You disregarded the men, which one of them beamed at your appearance. You tried your best to ignore him as your heart rate picked up with Taeyong’s gaze heavy on your side profile. “I’ll be taking a break for a few hours,” you informed her to which she nodded.

Taeyong was pleased to hear that and said, “Perfect!”

You blinked at him confusedly. “Sorry?”

He did his signature half smile and suggested, “Why not take a break with us?”

A walk in the lively park was splendid for the prince. He enjoyed seeing cheerful children running around, dog owners walking and playing with their dogs, couples sitting on the benches sharing sweet treats and even riding rented tandem bicycles.

Taeyong was curious about those two wheeled vehicles. He had never ridden one and to see such luxury where two could ride one… he needed to try it. “Let’s ride that,” he said pointing to a couple riding one.

Your eyes followed his finger and felt blood rush to your cheeks, suddenly feeling shy at the thought of being close to Taeyong, behind him on the wheels. “Um, do you mean you and me?” you asked just to be sure.

He huffed. “I would never ride that bike with this one,” he gestured to the servant.

Doyoung was offended and clutched his breaking heart. “I thought you loved me!”

Taeyong waved his hand dismissively. “Not right now. All of my attention is currently on this beautiful queen,” he flirted with a wink sent your way.

“Don’t say stuff that isn’t true,” you muttered under your breath. Beautiful queen and you? You could only dream.

Though he retorted with a tut. “It is true and I will prove it to you.”

Once you arrived at the stand for renting out the bicycle, Taeyong observed the surroundings, taking note of how the riders paddled their feet in synchronization. He practiced the feet movements using his hands, and quickly hid his hands when you faced him again. “Are you ready?” you asked.

“Ready as always.” Taeyong would always have to be ready for unexpected events in Yong Land. Riding a bike was nothing compared to that.

Or so he thought.

You sat down on the rear end and waited for the one who showed great interest in the bike to sit down. When you and Doyoung held the bike for Taeyong, he threw his leg over and gripped onto the handle, immediately a worry taking over. “Is this going to balance by itself?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t know how to ride a bike?”

Doyoung answered, “No, Your Highness has no prior experience with riding such vehicles.”

You gaped at his words. Not at the fact that Taeyong didn’t know how to bike but… Your Highness? “What did you call him?”

Realizing his mistake, Doyoung’s hand flew to his mouth while Taeyong laughed it off. “Doyoung loves calling me that. Don’t mind him.”

Your eyes shifted between the two and at the end believed him. “Well then, I’ll sit at the front and lead.”

So that was how Taeyong ended up sitting behind you and let out a yelp when you started paddling. He screamed when you zoomed down a small slope as Doyoung chased after you two, fearing for the prince’s safety.

- ❀ -

You were having a talk with a guest in the lobby until you saw your father walk through the entrance with a man of his age beside him, laughing among themselves. You bid the guest a wonderful day and waited to see where your father went. He met your eye and waved at you, gesturing the man to follow him as they made their way towards you.

You smiled warmly and greeted them. “Hello, sir. How are you?”

Your father chuckled and said, “Y/N dear, this fine gentleman here is actually willing to affiliate with our brand.”

You beamed at the great news. “That’s amazing!”

He nodded and continued, “And it will be through your marriage with his son.”

Your smile dropped in a heartbeat. “Sorry?”

“His son is actually the CEO of-“

“Dad, I’m sorry but can I speak with you for a minute?”

The two glanced at each other and your father sighed. “Sure.”

After being a safe enough distance for the man to not hear you, you got straight to the point. “I like someone.”

For a moment, he didn’t say a word, thinking through his thoughts. Your palms grew sweaty when he let out a long sigh. “Who is he?”

“His name is Taeyong. I don’t know what he is but I can go figure that out right now. He’s been staying at our hotel for some time.”

He hummed and said, “If I find that this man is right for you, then I’ll have no objections.”

Your jaw dropped, not believing how easily your father was willing to let go of an affiliate offer. “Seriously? What about the hotel?”

“We’re at the number one spot for the best hotel in the city. I can’t get any greedier than that,” he joked before turning serious and patted your head gently. “You’re all I’ve got. You’ve done so much helping me with the hotel and in return, you deserve someone who will keep you happy. If this Taeyong is the one, then I have no objections. But of course, I can’t have him easily take my daughter away until he’s earned my trust.”

You grinned widely. “Thanks, dad.”

You went up to the receptionist desk and waited for Sana to finish her phone call. Once she hung up, she asked. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Which room is Taeyong staying in?”

Sana recalled the familiar name, one who she couldn’t shake to forget. “2707. But please be careful. They sound like complete lunatics,” she spoke the last part quietly. It was very impolite for staff to speak ill of guests.

Lunatics? “What do you mean?”

“The way they talk- I mean I don’t why the friend refers Mr. Taeyong as ‘Your Highness’ as if he’s some sort of King. And not only that, Mr. Taeyong even called me the ‘queen-to-be’ and I… I don’t know what to do.”

That sounded like how it went with the park outing. The way Taeyong called you queen and Doyoung called Taeyong Your Highness. You thought that was just them playing around but for the situation to arise with Sana as well… You sulked a little merely at the thought of Taeyong not calling you a queen exclusively. “He called you a queen?” What on earth is Taeyong?

“Well, he didn’t directly call me that so it may have been for someone else. But still, these two men really are… different.”

You hummed and informed her, “I’ll go check on the situation. Don’t speak of this matter to anyone else.” She nodded and you strode away.

“Prepare me a rose bath.”

Doyoung did as told, setting up the bathtub like the way he did in Yong Land. He was glad that he had all the essentials for the prince’s special time, only the addition of rose petals were courtesy of the hotel.

Once the prince got into the tub, Doyoung said, “I’m going to the garden for more petals.”

Taeyong simply hummed in response.

Not to long after he left, a series of knocks was heard. He groaned as he wasn’t expecting anyone, and even more at the thought of having the answer the door himself. “Who could possibly be disturbing me?”

He stepped out of his bath and put on a robe. Shaking his brown hair with his hand and letting water droplets fall on the floor, he opened the door with his eyes fully blowing up from having to be blessed by your presence.

You took note of his wet self in the robe and felt a rush of heat taking over your face. “Sorry, did I disturb you? I think I should come back la-”

Taeyong shook his head frantically. “No! No, you didn’t. Please come in.” He stepped aside and gestured you in.

You walked in and composed yourself from the distraction.

“Please have a seat, Y/N,” he said and settled himself into an armchair across from you, leaning into the back with his arms on the armrest and crossing his legs like a king on his throne. “How can I help you?”

First, Sana. “Did you call the receptionist the queen-to-be?”

He stared at you blankly and answered with a slow shake of head. “No, I would never call anyone else but you the future queen.” His eyes turned playful when he noticed you release a breath of relief and asked, “Did you come all the way here to ask me that?”

You pursed your lips and looked away shyly. “Well, I did need this cleared up because…” Should you just get straight to the point? Yes. “The talk of my marriage was going on and I wasn’t happy about it.”

Taeyong jolted upright, the stress immediately rushing to him at the thought of losing you. “Why weren’t you happy?”

A smile threatened to tug at the corner of your lips when seeing Taeyong’s panicky eyes. “Because I like you.”

Taeyong calmed down and shrunk back into his seat at your words. But when the words actually got processed into his brain, his eyes almost fell out of its sockets and bolted upright again. “Did you say that you…” He couldn’t believe it was happening.

You chuckled quietly and nodded. “Yes, I like you. While all your flirting might be obvious, I still need a confirmation though. Do you like me?” You could have been wrong and it was just him being a charming man for ladies. But if he was only calling you a queen, then he had to be feeling something exclusively for you.

Taeyong feverishly nodded. “Yes I do! Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, I wished for you to be my queen.”

You felt like you were on cloud nine, knowing that your feelings weren’t one sided. But you did cringe a little on something. “I’m glad, but can you stop calling me queen. It’s kind of starting to sound cheesy.”

Taeyong held back the adrenaline rushing in his veins and furrowed his brows. “What do you mean cheesy-“

He was cut off by the door to the suite being unlocked and in walked his servant with a big bag of freshly picked roses. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed you and the prince looking at him. Though instead of greeting you or informing the prince of the accomplished task like he would always...

“Your Highness! Please don’t tell me you’re not wearing any undergarment again,” he spitted through gritted teeth. “Especially in front of her.”

Without meaning to, your eyes went there, and your face was on fire at the thought.

Taeyong noticed it and with wiggly brows asked, “Want to see my royal member?”

Your jaw dropped at the absurdity. “I’m leaving!” You stood up and was about to bolt for the door until Taeyong blocked you.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t leave! I won’t do that again,” he pleaded with desperate eyes.

Doyoung snorted. “Well it’s nice to see that your queen-to-be has a reign on you.”

Your hands clenched in anger and yelled, “Will you stop calling me that?”

“Calling you what?”

“Taeyong’s bloody queen!”

“Don’t speak like that!” Doyoung yelled.

Taeyong gasped at the audacity for his servant to raise his voice at his beloved. “Don’t yell at my queen! Wait till we get back and I’ll behead you!”

Groaning, you held back your desire to kick him there. “Stop talking like that! You sound like some king wannabe!” you shouted over them.

It suddenly went eerie silent as Doyoung gave Taeyong a look to tell her the truth. Taking a deep breath, the prince said, “That’s because I am the future king. I’m currently a prince in line for the throne. And this is Doyoung, my servant.”

An unnerving moment passed and it felt like you stopped breathing for that time. You looked between the two men who were seriously watching for your reaction, which was you bursting out in laughter. Laughing as if you had completely lost your sanity. Sana was right. They were lunatics. “You know what? I retract my confession and go marry that other guy my dad initially set me up with. If I stay here any longer, I’ll lose my mind like you guys.”

“No!” Taeyong held his arms out posing a ‘T’ to stop you. “I’m not joking. I really am a prince.”

“Really?” You expected princes to enter your hotel in a grand extravagant way. Not just with one other person who wasn’t even a personal guard but a servant. “Prince of what country?”

“Yong Land.”

You rolled your eyes. “The more the reason to not believe you. I’ve never heard of that place.”

“I can prove it to you in due time, but for now please believe me,” he begged with his hands clasped.

Doyoung gaped at the prince’s unfamiliar gesture. “Your Highness has never pleaded to anyone before,” he told you.

You waited to see if there was a change in Taeyong’s expression but he remained resolute. You asked, “So when my dad asks what you do, you’re saying that you’re a prince?”

“Yes.”

You let out a loud sigh and threatened, “I’ll kill you if all this is a lie.”

Doyoung couldn’t believe that someone was threatening to kill the prince in his presence. Taeyong noticed him and held his hand up to stop Doyoung from saying anything. “That won’t happen. I intend to go back to Yong Land with your hand in mine.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, at how serious he was taking you as his queen. You eventually gave up your defenses and softly muttered, “I’d love that.”

Taeyong tenderly smiled at you and clapped his hand excitedly. “Let’s go see your father then.”

“Wait not yet. I should tell him first and see how he reacts. After that, we can set up a meeting.”

Taeyong nodded. “That sounds good. And we should celebrate now that we both like each other,” he said with a radiant smile.

You grinned widely. “I agree.”

In the midst of you and Taeyong staring at one another with bubbling joy, Doyoung said, “I recommend Your Highness to dress himself before the celebration.”

You added the final touch to your look with your favourite lip gloss, twisting the cap back on and pressed your lips together before releasing a pop sound. Once you were pleased with your look, your bouncy feet headed out of your room.

Your father was discussing something with his secretary in the living room and caught sight of your dazzling outfit, his brow arching and silently questioned your night plan.

Walking closer to him, you asked, “Can I go out with Taeyong?”

He nodded at the familiar name. “Did you find out who he is?”

You nervously gulped. How ridiculous was it going to sound that he was an unconfirmed prince? “Yeah…? Well, I don’t know. He calls himself a prince and-”

“Did you just say prince?” he asked in amazement.

You nodded slowly.

“Of where?”

You tried to recall the name. “Something like Yong Land. I’ve never heard of that place.”

He turned to Kim and gave him a look that instantly made the secretary pull out his phone and tapped away, presumably to web search about the land. “I’m afraid no such land exists,” Kim informed.

Oh shit.

Your father gave you a deadpanned look. “This man is a liar?”

You hoped not. “Dad, hear me out. He said he’ll prove it to you.”

“I’m not letting you go out with him until this is settled. Call him over right now.” His voice was stern and left no room for objection.

Sighing, you called Sana on her mobile and she picked up after the first ring. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Send Taeyong up to the penthouse. And tell him to bring that proof.”

“Which proof are you speaking of?”

“He'll know.”

“Okay, ma’am.”

Sana placed down her cell phone and picked up the handset of the telephone, dialing the suite number.

Doyoung answered the incoming call. “Hello? Yes? I see. Thank you very much. We’ll be there shortly.” He found the prince lazing on the couch with a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries. “Your Highness, the queen is calling you up to the penthouse with the proof.”

Taeyong hummed and smirked. “You know what to do,” he said and popped the remaining piece of the bitten fruit in his mouth.

The servant nodded. “I’ll bring it.”

The clock kept ticking as you waited impatiently for the so-called prince. Your father was lost in his thoughts, thinking about what if scenarios in case the man did in fact turned out to be a prince like you claimed. His foot tapped repetitively against the shiny floor until the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get that!” You jogged away before your father would say a word. Just as you expected, it was Taeyong and behind him Doyoung. “Did you bring it?”

Taeyong smirked and gestured his hand to the briefcase that Doyoung held. You guided them to where your father waited solemnly and once his eyes landed on Taeyong, he gestured to the couch across him. “Please have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” Taeyong sat down while Doyoung stood at the side, ready for the prince’s command.

Your father let out a deep sigh and asked, “You wish to have my daughter’s hand?”

Taeyong gave him a reassuring sincere smile. “Yes, sir. I only wish for hers.”

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling like crazy when hearing Taeyong say that to your father.

Your father let out a hum in content. “You claim to be the prince of Yong Land, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What proof do you have? According to my source,” your father pointed at Kim who stood off to the side, “Yong Land does not exist.”

Taeyong gave him a curt nod and waved Doyoung over. Doyoung understood the cue and placed the briefcase down on the center table, unlocking the latches and opening up the case. You gasped, covering your mouth for what laid inside. Kim’s eyes blew up in shock while your father’s eyes lit up with amusement.

In the case laid numerous stacks of shining gold bars.

“These bars hold the future of Yong Land. You will see my face imprinted on every single one of them. And as for Yong Land, it is a place of its own and not known to the world outside. That is why your source was not able to locate it via phone. To learn of the land, you must visit the land through special accommodation.”

Your father was silent for a moment before beckoning Kim over. “Check those bars,” he ordered.

Kim nodded and picked one up, weighing the luxury in his hand and inspecting it all around. His brows arched up when he indeed found the face of the man sitting across his boss. For confirmation, he picked another one up and found it to be exactly identical to the first. “The man is speaking the truth. His face is carved in along with the inscription ‘Lee Taeyong, King of Yong Land’ on these bars.”

Your jaw dropped and your heart pounded in your chest at the news. The Taeyong that had been living at the hotel sending friendly signals towards you and calling you a queen was indeed the prince and future king of his land. You were all this time being indirectly courted by him and the news was too much for your faint heart to handle. “You’re kidding…” you mumbled under your breath.

Doyoung met your eye and smiled sweetly, knowing that big news like this wasn’t going to be easy to take in.

Dumbfounded, your father stared at Taeyong who only gave him a sincere smile before shifting his gaze towards you. “I need to have a word with you.” He stood up and headed for the bedroom. Gulping nervously, you followed him out of the living space.

Taeyong watched your retreating figure and waited patiently for your return. He noticed the secretary gawking at him, still stunned by the identity reveal, and offered, “You can keep one bar here. I have plenty more back home.”

You trailed behind your father into your bedroom and he shut the door behind you, pressing his lips together for his next words. “Y/N…”

It was the moment when he would make his mind up and it was a frightening one. You really liked Taeyong and the thought of a ring on your finger that he didn’t put on didn’t sit well in you.

He took a deep breath in and softly muttered, “I can’t believe you’re going to become a queen, sweetie.”

You stared at the floor for a moment, all senses of reasoning left you before his words hit you.

Your father accepted Taeyong.

Hesitantly, you lifted your gaze and asked, “I’m going to be a queen? You’re letting me go with Taeyong?”

His eyes twinkled as he lovingly stared at you, patting your head gently. “As long as this is what you want.”

“Seriously? You’re probably the first parent ready to send their daughter away to some unheard land all because of a prince.”

“Such fate isn’t written for everyone and I’m not going to hold you back from living your best life. Just don’t forget about me and make sure Taeyong invites me there one day,” he joked, pinching your nose.

You rolled your eyes. “You think I’ll never want to see you again? I’ll make sure you see me one day on my throne next to his.”

He chuckled softly at your words and kissed your forehead. “Now you have my permission to go out with him.”

“What is this place?” Taeyong asked as the three of you stood in front of a resounding building with guards at the door.

“It’s a night club. I come here often,” you said.

“What happens here?” Doyoung inquired.

You flashed a smile. “You’ll see.” Your fingers laced with Taeyong’s and pulled him along through the door with Doyoung right behind. The bouncers recognized you and let you all in.

Inside, the music blasted and the timing couldn’t get any more perfect when the song Good Thing played. You giddily guided the puzzled prince around the dancing bodies as Doyoung panted to catch up to your quick movements. Finally, an ideal spot with decent spacing was found and you let go of his hand, moving your body happily to the exhilarating beats.

Taeyong only watched you with a fond smile and you weren’t happy with that. “Come on, Taeyong. Show me that the future King of Yong Land can dance.”

He laughed at happy words and right at that moment, he noticed a couple behind you unknowingly get progressively close to you. Just as the guy was about to bump into you, Taeyong wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest, twirling around to shield you from the collision. The man instead bumped into Taeyong and apologized with a “Sorry dude,” and moved away.

Your heart went into a state of shock as every muscle in your body tensed from the proximity. Eventually, you melted under his touch and smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck and swayed your body to the upbeat music.

Doyoung saw the intimacy and cringed.

- ❀ -

“Ah!” Taeyong yelped from the sharp pain.

Doyoung rushed immediately to the prince’s side in panic. “Your Highness! Are you all right? Should I bring the first aid kit?”

The prince licked the pain off his finger and dismissively waved the servant off. “I’m fine. There’s no need for that.” A bright smile stretched over his lips as he stared at his handcrafted masterpiece. “Y/N is going to love this.”

Your lively feet bounded to the receptionist desk and in the greatest mood ever in your life, you informed, “I dealt with the complaint.”

Sana stared at you, worried that you had misplaced your brain somewhere. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

“Of course! Why would I not be?” you giggled.

Sana blinked at your unfamiliar demeanor. “You’ve never came back after a complaint this happy. And it’s Mr. James, one of the rudest guests here.”

You nodded and merely said, “You’ll find out soon.” Sure you were happy that you would be leaving your responsibilities as the hotel manager, but your great mood was because of the man who had captured your heart.

Prince Taeyong.

Just his name made your heart squeal.

She nodded and caught sight of the known face. “Mr. Taeyong is coming this way.”

Your head whipped so fast that you might have snapped it. And indeed he was, leisurely strolling towards you with Doyoung behind him carrying a tray with an item covered by silk cloth.

“Y/N, my Queen!” Taeyong exclaimed with his arms open for a hug.

Sana gaped at him and then at you.

You gave her a nod to her unvoiced question. “I’m apparently the queen that Taeyong was talking about.”

Her lips formed an ‘oh’ at the misunderstanding.

You skipped over to your lover giddily into his arms. He chuckled happily, loved seeing this side of you. “I prepared you something.” He pulled back and beckoned Doyoung over to his side. “I present my Queen a rose crown.” He lifted the silk off and your eyes landed on a uniquely woven rose crown.

“You’re unbelievable,” you breathed out. “Did you make this?”

He squared his shoulders proudly. “I did. Here, let me put it on for you.” Just as Taeyong went to take hold of the crafted crown, you noticed a bandage on his finger. He carefully fitted the crown on your head and stepped back, smiling proudly. “It looks more ethereal on you than I imagined.”

You huffed out a breath. If anyone wanted to learn how to make a girl’s heart go crazy, they should take notes from Taeyong. “Thanks, but what happened to your finger?”

Taeyong’s eyes widened by a fraction and hid his injured finger behind his back. “Nothing.”

Doyoung scoffed at the prince’s lie. “Your Highness got pricked by the thorn on the rose when making the crown.”

You gasped loudly and then pouted. “You got hurt for me?”

He leaned closer till you were inches away from his lips. “Anything for my lady.”

You huffed and smacked his chest lightly.

Doyoung cleared his throat. “If you’re done, we have to prepare for our leave.”

The prince nodded and said to you, “We’ll leave whenever you’re ready.” Right before the men parted from you, Taeyong quickly dove in to peck your cheek. You yelped in surprise and your heart furiously pounded, the feeling of his warm lips still lingering on your skin.

After they left, you turned to Sana who had her jaw fully dropped to the ground. “Taeyong is actually a king?”

- ❀ -

“I’m surprised you’re not crying.”

“It feels like I’m sending you abroad for school except you’ll be living with this fine gentleman who will be taking care of you.”

At least your departure from the home that you lived your entire life in wasn’t tear-filled. And it shouldn’t be. Not when it was Taeyong that you were going with, aka the prince and future king. No matter how many times you’d heard that or thought of that title on him, your heart still squealed as if it was the first time.

You turned to the man beside your father. “Thank you, Kim, for teaching me everything.”

He gave you a curt nod. “It was a pleasure, Miss Y/N.”

Up next was Sana with moistened eyes. “I will miss you, ma’am!”

You grinned and gave her a warm hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “I will too. You will see me again. And I’m sure your new manager will be just as great as me.”

She sniffed and muttered, “I doubt they will be. You were the best.”

You laughed and pulled away, moving towards your friend who helped keep you sane during your dreadful times. “Ready to see me as the queen one day?”

Ten snickered and mockingly commented, “You as a queen would just ruin the kingdom.” You smacked him and he burst out laughing. “Kidding. I can’t wait to see your power on the throne with that guy.” He nodded to where Taeyong stood patiently.

Once you were done, you bounded to Taeyong. “I’m ready,” you told him with an ecstatic smile.

He chuckled and held out his arm for you. You happily latched on as he grabbed your suitcase with his free hand. Doyoung, as usual, struggled to wheel the prince’s heavy ones. You waved your arm one last time to everyone before stepping out of the hotel towards the prepared vehicle.

Once you were out of sight, Sana burst out wailing, startling your father. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

Her glassy eyes didn’t leave the doors to the hotel. “I wish a prince courted me like the way it happened to ma’am.”

Your father sighed. It was tough to let you go as he now only had the secretary by his side, but a fate like yours wasn’t written for everyone.

Ten coughed pretentiously. “Well… if you’re down, I can treat you like a princess.”

Like a flip of switch, Sana stopped crying and stared at Ten in shock. When she figured that he was being serious with his hopeful eyes, she blushed hard, shying her gaze away. A slow smile broke onto her face and muttered quietly, “I’d like that.”

- ❀ -

No.

You were not.

“I’m not getting on that!” you cried out.

Doyoung sighed. “Your Majesty, this is the only transportation we have to the kingdom. Yong Land is a land strictly entrusted to nature. Therefore, we don’t have an airplane or such technological facilities that can take us directly to the castle.”

If it weren’t for your quicken heartbeat when staring into the huge black eyes of the dragon that patiently waited for your decision, then your heart would have danced when he called you the highly respected title.

Taeyong neared the dragon with such calmness that was beyond your control at that moment. He lifted his hand to stroke its head tenderly and the dragon groaned in delight. “She is our new queen. You won’t hurt her, will you?” he asked with softness.

The dragon shook his head. He would never hurt any of his Master’s people, only the enemies.

Taeyong smiled and turned to you. “See? He won’t hurt you.” He outstretched his hand for you.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and asked, “What if I fall off?”

“I would never let that happen.”

After much reluctance with you staring intently into the prince’s serious eyes, you took Taeyong’s hand. He was super pleased that you trusted his word and he intended to keep it that way.

Taeyong climbed on the dragon before hoisting you up, settling you in front of his body. Your cheeks heated at the feeling of his chest flushed against your back. His arms wrapped around you tight enough to make you feel protected. And you did, letting your body relax just slightly ever since learning that dragons were after all real.

Taeyong helped you off, while Doyoung grumbled incoherent words under his breath when trying to get the suitcases off the dragon.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Taeyong asked.

You shook your head timidly, not when riding in Taeyong’s arms.

His lips curled up and draped an arm over your shoulder, guiding you to the entrance of a massive castle. “Let’s meet the King.” Just when you were feeling lighter, your steps became heavier and Taeyong felt your body tensing again. “What’s wrong?”

“I… what if he doesn’t like me? What if the people here don’t like me?” You were a new face in a land ruled by great monarchs. What if you didn’t meet their expectations as you were, quite frankly, a nobody in Yong Land? This wasn’t your hometown where everyone in the city recognized you as the daughter of a wealthy hotel owner. Even worse than the people, what if the King didn’t like you because you didn’t come from a noble family within his network?

Taeyong squeezed your shoulder gently to comfort you. “The King is looking forward to seeing my selection for the next Queen. As for the people, if anyone dared to even glance at you in disrespect, then they will have to go through me, and that will not be good,” he spoke the words with such lethal seriousness that his sudden change of expression for his next words surprised you. With fondness, he added, “Plus, there’s absolutely no reason for anyone to not like you. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

You sighed out a breath of relief and nodded. “Okay, I’m trusting you. I think I’m ready now.”

The meeting with the King went a lot more smoothly than you expected when he was sincerely polite with you and was more than pleased to hear about your background as a manager, mentioning that your resourceful skills would help you fulfill your duties to help the people and negotiate with other region rulers. The King couldn’t have been prouder of his son to have found the perfect Queen.

Taeyong guided you to your personal room until the ceremony was over for you to share with him. Whispering in your ear, he joked, “My room is open for you if you can’t wait till the ceremony.” You rolled your eyes at him and he gestured the guards outside your room to open the doors. Your bedroom was massive and elegantly designed with vintage masterpieces. Female servants strode in and stood upright and ready to assist you.

He offered to let you explore the castle as the sky grew darker. The prince decided to show you around outside another time when you were well rested. When it was time for a meal, he forced you to sit at the head of the dining table in a throne that you assumed was his. Your mouth watered at the sight of all the delicacies laid before your eyes, noting how there were equal number of sweet dishes as the savory. The King mentioned that the prince loved filling his belly with sugar-filled goods. Throughout the dinner, you were grateful for the warm welcome into the family, but your jitteriness wasn’t completely forgotten about.

At night, you stared at the ceiling with a growling stomach, the monster inside demanding for food. You only ate your meal earlier in moderation, worried if you would defy any unspoken rule if you ate to your heart's content. Combine that with restlessness from having to be in a land where you knew no one except for the ones you arrived with…

There was no way you were falling asleep anytime soon.

You sat up on the enormous bed. No one was in the room, giving you utmost privacy. Peeking outside your door, you found a guard who was alert and kept his stance showing that he was on duty but relaxed enough as there was no danger in sight.

“Um, excuse me? Can you tell me where I can find Taeyong?” you asked quietly.

The guard blinked before nodding. “I’ll direct you to Prince Taeyong.”

You follow nervously behind his confident strides, slowing down your steps once he halted by a set of double doors larger than yours. He knocked on the door for you and called out, “Your Highness, Your Majesty is here.”

You thought it would take him a while considering it was late into the night. But when Taeyong heard that it was you waiting on the other side, he darted, nearly tripping over his own feet to answer the door.

He did his best to appear indifferent, but his heart crashed in his chest with nerves and excitement when he saw you. He gave the guard a curt nod who mirrored it back and left the prince’s sight.

Taeyong leaned against the door frame and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “What can I do for my lady at this time?” The smirk completely wiped off his face when you nervously avoided his gaze while fidgeting with your fingers. He stepped closer to you and with concern laced in his tone asked, “Are you okay, Y/N?”

Your hunger for the moment left your mind and you didn’t feel so well. After much thought of what to tell him, you lifted your gaze to meet his worried eyes. “I’m scared.”

He stared at you. “Scared?”

You nodded. Taking a deep breath, you explained yourself. “It’s a new place and I don’t know anyone. I don’t know what to expect and not-“

You stopped breathing when he opened his arms out for you, making you melt into them and breath out a long sigh at the comforting feeling of his protective arms around you. Planting a kiss on your temple, he rested his chin atop your head. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. Don’t worry. Do you want me to be with you? I can come to your room or you can come inside mine.”

You nodded stiffly. “Can I sleepover here?”

He pulled back and met your hopeful eyes. “Of course. Anything you want.” He was about to pull you inside until a rumbling sound in your stomach reminded you of something, making you press your lips in embarrassment. It was loud enough for Taeyong to stop and stare at your belly with wide eyes before his smirk made a reappearance. “It looks like we have something else to take care of first,” he playfully commented.

The two of you descended down the massive stairs and he said, “I can get someone to arrange something for you. What would you like?”

You felt bad that the cooks would have to wake up in the middle of the night to fix you something. “Are there any leftovers from dinner?”

He shook his head. “Any remaining are given away. We have fruits and there’s stock on some sweet goods, you know for me.” He winked and you chuckled softly. “Do you always get hungry at night? I can make sure we keep food for you.”

You shook your head, embarrassed to say the truth. “I actually didn’t eat properly because I was worried l would eat too much. I don’t know what etiquettes I have to follow and I didn’t want to seem like a pig.”

Taeyong was stunned by your response and wished he had known sooner to make you feel at ease. This was supposed to be your new home where you could do anything as you please without limits. With sad eyes, he said, “Y/N, you don’t have any restrictions on anything. You can eat to your heart’s content, even tell the cooks what you want to eat at any time of the day or night. Please don’t hold yourself back. It may take a while to get used to this, but this place should and will feel like home one day.”

You stared at him, all previous worries leaving you as a new worry took place. You didn’t expect to make Taeyong disheartened with your words. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”

He shook his head. “I should be the one apologizing. I should have expected that with you being new here.” With a clap to change up the mood, he smiled hoping for something. “So will you now want me to call a chef here to make you something?”

Pursing your lips, you had another idea in mind. “Well, you did say that I should treat this place as my new home, right?”

He blinked at you but nodded regardless, wondering where you were going with your words. “Yes.”

“Then will you let me have the pleasure to cook something in the kitchen?”

Taeyong arched an eyebrow at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to go through the trouble.”

“Well… It won’t be me going through the trouble because I wasn’t allowed to cook back home so… can I try here?” Frankly, your father’s traumatic experience of having to witness the kitchen in absolute mess one time was what banned you because he was not about to have you start a fire and have the entire hotel evacuated for your mistake.

He tilted his head and squinted his eyes on you. “If this is you saying that you’re going to cause a mess while cooking, then feel free to.”

You blinked, surprised that he agreed even when catching onto your drift. “Really?”

He smiled and stroked your head. “Of course. Like I said, I want this place to feel like your new home.”

After an unfortunate yet foreseen failed attempt to cook yourself something, without starting any fire thankfully, you settled with having some fruits, accepting a few baked sweets that Taeyong offered you. When you were satisfied, the two of you headed to his room, being mind blown by its size being two times larger than yours and was decorated with hints of roses everywhere.

“You must really love roses a lot that you gifted me one.” You were suddenly reminded of his flirting that time and your heart fluttered at the memory.

“It’s my favourite. Come here.” He pulled you towards the gigantic bed, lifting the cover for your side.

You giggled, saying “You’re such a romantic.”

Taeyong’s lips turned up into a lazy smile. “Only for you.”

When he settled in beside you, you turned to your side, meeting him face to face. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest till you could feel his hot breath fanning over you. You hummed at the warmth of him surrounding you, all fears from before shutting down as you dozed off into your dreams.

Taeyong was relieved to see you fall asleep and pecked your forehead before shutting his eyes with a wide smile stretching his lips.

The next morning, you woke up expecting to be in the penthouse bedroom when your surroundings appeared unfamiliar, until the roses brought back your memories and realized you were in Taeyong’s bedroom.

With the prince nowhere in sight.

“Taeyong?” you called out with a shaky breath, hoping he’d hear you. But instead, a knock on the door followed by a familiar voice was heard.

“May I come in, Your Majesty?”

“Um… yeah. Come in.”

The door swung open, being met with a happy looking Doyoung. “Your Highness had a matter to attend and invited you.”

Your brows scrunched. “What matter?”

He smiled genuinely. “It is regarding your gown for the ceremony tonight.”

Taeyong hissed as he carefully inspected the intricate design. “I see you followed through my plan just as described.”

The tailor nodded. “I will do anything as you wish, Your Highness.”

Johnny, Taeyong’s personal guard, raised a point. “Your Highness, isn’t the dress code gold? I’ve always seen in the pictures that the queens wore gold.”

“Yes, but I’m changing it. Your new queen is worth more than gold, specifically priceless. I prefer her to wear something that represents my ideal queen.”

“And what is your ideal queen?”

Taeyong smirked and was about to answer until you caught his eye, trailing behind the servant. You noticed the other men in the dressing room and focused on the prince. “What’s going on?” you asked.

Taeyong grinned widely with perfect white pearls. He stretched his arm out for you. “Y/N, come here.”

You slowly shifted your feet towards him, taking his warm hand. He excitedly positioned you till you stood before the most breathtaking dress that you had ever seen before. A fully red gown with diamonds studded across the corset and from the waist down to the floor…

Numerous large layers of handmade rose petals were sewed onto the entire skirt.

And if that was what you were wearing to the ceremony, then you were going to stand out in the crowd for looking like a living resemblance of a red rose. “Is this really for me?” you asked breathlessly, your eyes not daring to remove itself from the dress.

“If you like it,” Taeyong said with worry stretched across his forehead. “If you don’t like this, that’s completely fine-"

“Are you kidding me? I love this! It’s incredible! Who designed this? I need to meet this person!” you beamed.

Taeyong rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and answered, “Well, you’re looking at that person right now.”

You gaped at him. “Seriously? You? How? I mean what made you think of this?”

He chuckled and gestured to his guard. “I was just about to tell Johnny and now I’ll share it with you. I always wanted a beloved queen who will flourish with my lovely roses. Therefore, I wish for my queen to glow luxuriantly in this rose gown. Like my saying goes: a beautiful rose for a beautiful queen.”

A maddening fire took over your cheeks as you stared at him in shock with your blushing heart. Doyoung gagged while Johnny buckled over laughing at the servant’s reaction. “Your Highness, please refrain yourself from using such phrases… at least in front of others,” Doyoung grumbled.

“Do I always have to sit on horses?”

“For ladies, we have carriages. But I thought for experience, you can sit with me,” Taeyong winked at you.

You rolled your eyes and watched him hoist himself up onto his horse, holding his hand out for you. You gave him an anxious smile, taking his hand and placed your foot on the loop but failed to bring your body up. He offered to count to three and at the cue, he used his strength to pull you up as you jumped. You crashed into his chest with his protective arm tight around you to prevent you from falling off the shaking horse and you settled into the seat.

“Good?” he asked with a sly smile.

“More like perfect,” you mumbled with warmth spreading across your body.

“Hold tight,” he said and let go of you for a quick moment, taking off his princely crown to fit it on your head.

“Woah, why are you giving me this?” The weight of his crown felt as if you really were a royal member of the family. You couldn’t wait for the ceremony to announce you officially queen.

“This will let the people know that you are their future queen. We can’t have them misunderstand you as one of the people.” He leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “Otherwise, the ladies will get jealous.”

You huffed out, annoyed. “So I do have something to worry about.”

Taeyong chuckled. “Not the kind you were nervous about. No one’s going to throw eggs at you. You’ll just see them have heart eyes for me. When they learn that you’re the queen, they’ll respect you.”

And he was right. The second the people found out that you were going to be their queen, they went from sulking that it wasn’t them sitting with the prince to cheering for your new life in a blink of an eye. You waved at them with a relieved grin from your seat. They felt your sincerity and tried to offer you small gifts as a token of success. Though the guards on their own horses were well trained on what to do in such situation, politely declining them all. But your eyes landed on a small girl, her tiny arms pleading for you to accept her gift.

“Taeyong, can we at least accept hers?” you pointed at the small girl.

Taeyong smiled at your kind heart and nodded. He clapped for the guards to accept the child’s token. Johnny was the one to make the move, hopping off his horse and promised the girl to pass the gift on. He quickly strode over to your side and handed it over.

You observed the vintage gift, an antique bronze and ruby red crystal beaded bracelet. “It’s beautiful,” you muttered.

Taeyong inspected the item in your hand and smiled. “It’s a Victorian bracelet with Swarovski crystals, suitably worn for weddings.”

Your eyes blew up at the information. “That sounds fancy. I can’t just take this without giving something in return.”

“It is a gift and I’m sure she won’t take currency in return but you can try.” Taeyong gave Johnny a nod, making the guard hold his hand up to help you down. You made a beeline to the little girl who was ecstatic to meet you.

You crouched down to her eye level. “Thank you for the beautiful gift. It’s too precious for me to take it without giving you something in return. Tell me, what would you like?”

Her toothy smile touched your heart. “I like Queen and King to always keep us safe and happy.”

Your eyes sparkled at her request, the honesty and innocence radiating from the little girl made your heart grow a deep sense of duty for what you came here for. With the manager smile you always put on for grateful guests at the hotel, you promised, “I will do everything in my power to keep everyone safe and happy.”

She beamed at you so widely that you thought it was going to break her face, and you patted her head softly. Taeyong watched the two of you, smiling to himself for having found the absolute perfect Queen for the kingdom and himself.

- ❀ -

The horns were blown and an announcement was made by the now-former King, who stepped down from his current throne, ready to crown the future monarchs of Yong Land.

The grand doors opened, revealing the new Queen in her stunning red rose gown, her arm linked with the new King who wore a matching colour royal tuxedo. The two walked down the red carpet, posture perfect and elegantly waved at the people standing on either sides of the carpet. Reaching the end, the former crowned the new monarchs, making the crowd cheer happily, with Doyoung wiping away his dramatic tears as Johnny rolled his eyes and patted Doyoung’s shoulder in comfort.

The music cued Taeyong to ask your hand for a dance in celebration to which you gladly accepted. He led you onto the floor and held your waist with one arm while the other held your hand. You stared into his tenderly eyes, the reality too good to be true. Taeyong pulled you in closer, making your heart spike up and warmth overwhelmed you at the intimacy.

You were his Queen now.

#cznnet #nct #nct 127 #taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fluff #taeyong fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct x reader #charm

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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years ago

Text

Speak Easy Part 4

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 5206

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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

Dabi’s frustration only grew when he saw your excited expression. All the sudden all he could think of was the was the way that Bakubrat had kissed the top of your head the last time he had seen you.

Dabi readjusted you so you were on his back and put his hands firmly on your thighs. He’ll admit he’s being ridiculous, but he wanted to keep you out of reach from the explosive idiot.

You were practically buzzing with excitement. You had missed your friends. Even though you had seen them a few weeks ago, it wasn’t nearly good enough, you felt like you didn’t have enough time to actually thank them for saving you. You had known all of them from high school except you had known Katsuki and Izuku much longer. You all had known each other since you were kids. Katsuki was always the one pulling your pigtails while Izuku was always the one to let you paint his fingernails.

That mentality pretty much stayed the same as you all got older. Katsuki would still relentlessly tease you but he was always much meaner to any of the guys who hit on you. There was a rumor that went around that your quirk made you super good in bed and it had every guy chasing after you for the wrong reasons. He never hesitated to hit first and ask questions later when men cat called you in his presence.

Katsuki had always had a very special place in your heart. He had always been your protector as well as your biggest supporter. There were so many times he and Izuku had talked you out of quitting school. Every so often an article would circulate about how villainous your quirk was and how you deserved to be locked up. The pressure would eventually get to you and you would end up in one of their rooms pacing and holding back tears. They helped you learn to love your quirk, but Katsuki was the one who secretly worked with you on weekends to help you get stronger. He thought if he showed you that you were more than just your quirk you would finally stop listening to all the fucking gossip blogs.

You kept bouncing with excitement the entire time Dabi walked towards the front door. He paused a few steps away and gave your thigh a sharp slap. “Hey, quit that. If you keep bouncing like that, I’m going to drop you. Behave.”

You wondered what crawled up his ass. He was just praising you a few minutes ago and now he’s grumpy. There’s no way he could be that mad about Katsuki coming to visit. He knew this was going to happen. He was holding you when Katsuki promised as much. You understood that he didn’t really get along with most people, and Katsuki was honestly kind of hard to get along with in the first place. But that still didn’t give him the right to be so pissed about him being here.

Dabi opened the door but remained in the doorway, effectively blocking Katsuki from entering. “Can we help you?”

Katsuki had a duffle bag on his shoulder as well as a box at his feet. “You could start by letting me in asshole.” He looked at you and his scowl softened just slightly, “Hey dork. Think you could convince your chauffeur to get out of the way?”

You giggled and gave Dabi’s neck a pinch. Dabi responded by giving your thigh a pinch, “Eye for an eye brat. You want me to let him in? I think I deserve an entrance fee?” He pointed towards his cheek as if he was asking for a kiss.

Katsuki’s eyes traveled from where Dabi’s hand was firmly squeezing your thigh to where he was pointing at his cheek. They were furious. He was about to just shove his was through when you wrapped your arms tight around Dabi’s neck and leaned backwards. Effectively throwing his body weight off and giving Katsuki more than enough room to enter the house.

He quickly let himself in and made his way over to the couch where he dumped the box he was holding. “Alright so here’s your first care package.”

“Don’t see why it needed to hand delivered…” Dabi dropped you on the couch next to the box so you could rummage through it.

Katsuki quickly took the empty spot next to you, totally ignoring Dabi. “I brought you a couple new manga that I know you’ll like, and I think Deku added a bunch of pictures and shit from your old apartment.” He reached over you into the box and pulled out a shirt and you grinned ear to ear. It was an old All Might shirt that you had stolen from Katsuki years ago because you liked how soft it was.

He smiled and put his arm around you, “I thought you might like that. I hope you don’t mind I’ve been wearing it in your absence. So, it might smell like me.”

Dabi walked by grabbing Katsuki’s arm and casually flung it off your shoulder. Then without a word started going through the box. “Did you remember the bathing suit?”

You could hear Katsuki’s palm’s crackle with irritation, “Yes… I did. But don’t get your pervy hopes up. I got the most conservative one I could find.” There he goes being overprotective for no reason… well that wasn’t exactly fair he did have a reason. He had just found you in the most horrendous condition possible and immediately had to hand you off to a former villain who kidnapped him in his youth… so yeah. You decided you were going to cut him some slack.

“Well considering it’s for her fucking rehabilitation…she could be naked for all I care. As long as she’s comfortable and gets those damn legs moving.” Dabi could feel his temper starting to get the better of him. Considering Bakugo was known for having the worlds shortest fuse, he needed to keep his cool. He could not be the one to snap first.

“Oi! Don’t act like carrying her around is such a burden!” Bakugo stood up now squaring off with Dabi.

Dabi’s eyes flared but his voice remained even, “I never said it was a burden… In fact, I love carrying her around. However, I don’t plan on making it a habit because I want her to get better.” His voice dipped and got angrier, “And don’t you talk about her as if she’s not sitting in the same room as us! She can speak for herself…”

He looked at you and you gave him a pointed look. ~Calm down please.~

He took a deep breath and signed back, ~Trying~

Katsuki looked between the two of you with narrowed eyes, “When did you guys learn sign language?”

Dabi walked into the kitchen and started making dinner. If Bakugo wanted to make a house call, he needed to let him have his fun. He’d be leaving soon enough, he just needed to let the two of you be until then. “We started learning a couple weeks ago.” He pulled out two bowls because that’s how passive aggressive he is. If that asshat didn’t get the hint by the time dinner was ready, then he’d just have to sit there and watch you eat.

Dabi had to stop for a moment and contemplate this. Why was he this mad? Why did he actually care this much? You were obviously going to be close with the loudmouth. You’d known him for a long time. He needed to remember that just because you lived with him now doesn’t mean that you even want to be here. For all he knows you’re just tolerating him because you have to. It’s not like the two of you have lots of late-night conversations.

He looked over when he realized it had been pretty quiet and saw that the two of you were speaking in sign. His hands on yours helping you with a new word. “Okay so obviously you know sign too.”

Katsuki had a shit eating grin. “The doctors told my mom when I was young, I’d eventually go deaf due to my quirk. I’m basically fluent.” He continued to sit and teach you new words and damn if you weren’t happier than he had seen in the past two weeks.

Dabi rolled his eyes as he went back to making dinner. “Go ahead and teach her whatever you want. Be fucking useful for once.” Dabi continued to make dinner, shoulders tensing every time he heard you giggle.

Katsuki had his phone out and was showing you everything you had missed. “Okay so surprise, surprise, Deku and IcyHot are like a thing now.” He showed a couple cute pictures from Izuku’s private Instagram. The last one was of them kissing under an umbrella. “Kiri and Mina had a kid. Little rascal is probably about six months old now. He’s cute but his teeth hurt like hell.” He picked up his hand that had a tiny crescent shaped scar, which had you absolutely grinning.

He ruffled your hair, “Oi, you won’t be smiling when the brat bites you next.” He continued to scroll, “OH! I almost forgot the best part.” He turned his phone to you and showed you a picture of someone’s mug shot. “Fucking grape juice got arrested.”

Your eyes widened. You waited for him to go one when you realized he was waiting on you. He was giving you an opportunity to contribute to the conversation. ~Why?~

“Trying to buy a prostitute… Literally no one was surprised.” He looked back to the kitchen to make sure Dabi wasn’t listening. When he was satisfied, he pulled you closer into his side and threw his arm around you. “Hey, you would let me know if he was mistreating you right?” His fingers carded through your hair and his eyes roamed all your visible skin for signs of abuse.

You nodded your head and pulled your shirt further down, suddenly aware that you weren’t wearing pants. You had just gotten so used to it you had forgotten. He noticed you fidgeting, “He hasn’t touched you, has he? Because I swear to God I’ll rip out every single staple in his body then make him eat them.”

You leaned further into his to side to hide your blush. He most certainly had touched you. And you still hadn’t worked out how you felt about it. He hadn’t made any attempt to do it again beyond the casual touches when he carried you or when he helped you in the pool. He had made it a habit of sleeping in your room, but he always stayed on his side of the bed.

Katsuki must have taken your lack of response as a confirmation. “I’m going to kill him.”

You sat up straight and started shaking your head, ~No. No. Wrong~

“Wrong? So, he hasn’t touched you then?”

You gulped. Either way you answered was bad. You either told him the truth and he rage killed Dabi, or you lied to your best friend… Either way you were fucked.

As you struggled for an answer Dabi walked in and handed you your bowl of curry and rice. “Don’t worry I’ll answer that one for you, and stop at me at any point you think I got it wrong.” He took his seat in a recliner and took a bite of his meal. “So, we had a moment where something could have happened, but we stopped before it got too far and decided we were just being emotional and moved on.”

Katsuki’s hand started to heat up and crackled but you pulled on his arm to get his attention, ~Right~

He still looked angry, and maybe even a little hurt, which had you all confused again. He looked like he wanted to throw one of his famous temper tantrums. You knew how much it was killing him to not pounce on Dabi, “Keep your disgusting hands to yourself from now on. She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need you taking advantage of her!”

“You don’t speak for her!”

You clapped your hands to get their attention, ~Enough~ You gave each of them a glare and it was silent after that.

You took a bite of your dinner to avoid Katsuki’s eyes and was met with the most delicious meal Dabi had made to date. You cleared your throat to get Dabi’s attention. You pointed to Katsuki then your bowl of food and signed ~where~?

“I didn’t think a busy hero like him would have time to stick around for dinner.” He continued to pick at his food, “Speaking of which. It’s getting late. Hate to keep you from your super important work of dress up and make believe.”

Katsuki gestured to the duffle bag he carried in. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere tonight.” He was looking at you now. A look of concern ghosted across his face. “Consider it a wellness check.” He leaned forward and gave the side of your head a soft peck, “I just want to be sure you’re okay. I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I intend to keep that promise.”

You felt yourself sinking into his familiar warmth. If there was anyone who felt like home, it was Katsuki. Sure, he was in the middle of a ridiculous pissing contest with Dabi at the moment, but you really couldn’t blame him. He’d always been a stubborn, territorial, asshole. But he was also kind he cared about you and for that you could forgive him.

“Whatever, just don’t get in the way of our routine.” Dabi stood up with his now empty bowl. “You know that law, eat every last bite. I’ll get your bath started while you finish.” He looked at Katsuki, “You can have my room… I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He didn’t even wait for a response as he left the two of you alone.

Katsuki visibly relaxed into the couch once Dabi had left the room. “What did he mean by law?”

You smiled as you pulled out your journal and opened it up for him. You pointed to law number seven. At first, he was pissed that Dabi would give you a new set of rules to live by, like you were some kid. But then he realized there wasn’t a single “law” on here that didn’t have your best interest in mind.

His eyes scanned over the rest. Chuckling at some silly laws like ‘Wake up whenever the hell you want’, and ‘No fucking shrugging.’ He had to admit that he also hated it when you would do that. It wasn’t that you were indecisive. It was that you knew what you wanted but you never wanted to speak up for yourself. Always willing to bend over backwards to make others happy. Never wanting to give anyone any more reason to dislike you.

His heart hurt at the laws that said things like, ‘No drugs’, ‘No locked doors’, and ‘Never say sorry for something that isn’t your fault.’

The law that had his blood boiling however was the last one, law number thirteen. ‘I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.’ He furiously flipped through the pages that came after, trying to get the idea of you ever giving Dabi consent to touch you out of his mind.

You had finished your food by now and stretched your muscles out. All in all, this had been a great day. You walked on your own in the pool AND Katsuki had come to visit. You were so tired you just knew you would fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Hopefully you wouldn’t have any nightmares.

You put your hand on Katsuki’s shoulder and used it to push yourself to your feet. You wobbled for a few seconds but otherwise kept your footing.

“Hey look at you! I thought you’d be too tired after what we did in the pool today, good job.” You looked up to see Dabi leaning in the hallway. “Your bath is ready. One for me, two for blondie.”

Katsuki scrunched his nose up, “Wha-“

You held up two fingers and Dabi nodded. “Alright looks like you get bath time duty today.” Dabi smirked when Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Don’t freak out. She’s gotten to the point where she can get in on her own and some days she can even get out too. You just need to hang out by the door in case she needs help.

You wound your arms around Katsuki’s neck, and he picked you up. His heart pounded as he followed Dabi to what he assumed was your room. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Hey wouldn’t be the first time we bathed together.”

You giggled and hit his shoulder. You knew he meant when you were kids. But you couldn’t stop the blush that took over you at the thought of him just hopping in the tub with you now.

Dabi tensed up as he stopped at the door to your room. “Alright… y/n you know the drill if you need me just yell.” He winked at you after his stupid joke and you flipped him off.

He walked back to the kitchen and opened his laptop. He started to go over tomorrow’s sign language lesson early. He’d never tell you this, but he does this every day. You were so much better at picking it up then him, he needed to do extra work just to keep up.

You signed ~Thank you~ as Katsuki placed you down next to the full tub.

“Okay… so I guess you just let me know if you need me by…?”

You shrugged as you knocked on the side of the tub. Part of you really didn’t want him to leave, even if it was only for a few minutes. You reached out and grabbed his wrist.

He gave you a curious look, but softened when you signed back, ~Stay~

“Does he usually stay?”

You shook your head, Dabi always insisted he had things to do and it was important you do some things on your own.

Katsuki took a seat on the floor with his back against the tub. Even with permission he was determined to protect your modesty. You slipped your clothes off and quickly lifted your legs into the tub. It was almost too easy now and you smiled at your progress.

You sighed as the water warmed your skin. Your hand reached for Katsuki’s and gave it a squeeze. You could see the tension in his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back before intertwining your fingers.

“Y/n… I -I know I’ve already said I’m sorry. But I still have this mountain of guilt sitting on my chest. You were… are… one of the most important people in my life. And I was so wrapped up in my own life I didn’t see the signs. I didn’t notice that something was wrong.” You could hear his voice crack as he tried to hold his emotions down. “I knew you went on secret missions that you couldn’t always talk about. I watched as you came back looking defeated and… and broken. I thought there was something going on, but I just kept reminding myself you worked with heroes… that I was just being paranoid.”

You felt tears build in your eyes and you were glad he wasn’t looking at you. You rubbed circles on his hand with your thumb encouraging him to keep going. He obviously had a lot he had been bottling up. “You know Deku and I went to your agency one day after you had been gone for a few months and all they told us was your mission was confidential, and we weren’t related to you so they couldn’t even tell us if you were okay.” He sniffled, “I went there every day after work and got the same bull shit answer. It drove me crazy.”

He took a deep breath to settle himself, “So we started asking about you. Started looking for you in all the underground trading routes.” A long silence followed as he got lost in the memories of looking for you. “It almost took us a year, but we finally found someone who had seen you. Some small-time villain whose quirk was invisibility. He had snuck into your agency to try and break his boss out. But when he found him you were also in the room…”

He didn’t keep going, and for that you were grateful because you didn’t want to hear it. You knew what came next and you didn’t exactly want to relive it.

“I’m so sorry. I failed you. I was supposed to protect you. I promised you I’d be by your side forever, and I-I-“

You pulled his hand towards you and gave it a kiss before putting his palm on your cheek. He hesitantly turned and looked at you with tears in his eyes. You activated your quirk and washed over him with feelings of love and understanding. You watched his eyes close as he shuttered. You may not be able to speak, but you could still communicate to him through feeling that you were okay.

You reached over and brushed a stray tear away and pulled him close to plant a kiss on his forehead.

When your bath was over, he waited for you to wrap yourself in a towel before picking you up and depositing you gently on your bed. You pulled the All Might shirt he had brought with him over your head, and crawled under the covers.

He had only wanted to lay there until you fell asleep, but he ended up falling asleep soon after you.

Dabi walked in hoping to tell you goodnight but found the two of you asleep facing each other. You under the covers, Bakugo on top of the covers. Your hands stretched out towards each other as if looking for each other even in sleep.

Dabi’s hands were glowing with livid flames as he left in a hurry.

He went straight to the abandoned cabinet that held all of the now off-limits drugs. He could take just one… you would never know.

He growled as he shoved the bottle back into the cabinet and slammed the door. Reaching instead for a bottle of whiskey. He went to the couch and poured himself a drink.

And that’s how you and Bakugo found him the next day. Passed out on the couch empty whisky bottle on the floor next to him.

Dabi chugged his coffee as his head pounded. He was no stranger to hangovers, but ever since you came to live with him, he hadn’t felt the need to drink that much. At one point in his life it had been the only way he could get any decent sleep.

He watched from his seat at the kitchen island as you and Bakugo made breakfast. The smell of bacon hit him and his stomach growled. Shit.

You could see his sour expression and when Bakugo wasn’t looking you stood from the chair you were sitting in. Dabi kept his eyes on you like a hawk. Watching for any signs you might fall. You stumbled but he remained still. He knew you were okay. The Island was right there if you needed to hold on to it. You were only a few steps away from him now. Arms stretched out and a smile on your face.

You knew this would cheer him up, and get him out of whatever shitty mood he was in. Only one more step and you’d be there. To this Dabi stood up and took a step away from you with a playful look in his eye as if to say come and get me.

Bakugo continued to talk, not even noticing you weren’t sitting behind him anymore. It wasn’t until the loud thud of you hitting the tile floor that he looked up. He immediately rushed to you while Dabi laughed.

“Why the fuck are you laughing? She could be hurt!”

Dabi just continued to laugh, “I’m laughing because it’s fucking funny. She’s fine.” He titled his head to the side. “You’re a tough cookie aren’t yeah y/n?”

You giggled and nodded. Dabi took you from Bakugo’s embrace “See she’s fine. I think you need to remember she used to be a pro hero. I think she can handle tripping over her own feet.” He stood up and sat you down in front of the laptop.

“Okay time to learn some sign language, looks like today’s all about food. Oh good, you love food.” He ruffled your hair before picking a piece of bacon off of your plate and biting into it.

The little back and forth continued the entire day. The biggest argument came later when it was time for the pool. You groaned and decided you weren’t in the mood. ~No pool~

Dabi rolled his eyes at you, “Yes pool. You even have a bathing suit this time. So, get your ass in gear.”

You crossed your arms over your chest in defiance. “Listen here brat. It’s the law. We work on getting your strength back every single day. No negotiations.”

Bakugo didn’t like the tone Dabi was talking to you in. “Oi, she’s not some puppet for you to boss around. She said she doesn’t want to so that’s it. Back off!”

Dabi’s eyes flared with anger, “You don’t have a fucking say in this. This is between me and her.” He looked at you again, “If you had asked nicely, I might have let this go. Just because we have a guest doesn’t mean you can disregard the laws and neglect the routine. Now be a good girl and let’s go put your bathing suit on.”

Bakugo stepped between you and Dabi, “Be a good girl? What the fuck is your problem. You don’t own her.”

Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose trying to remind himself why he can’t just fight the obnoxious asshole in font of him. “I don’t own her, but I also refuse to sit here and watch her wither away. We have laws to make her better, and I refuse to deviate. It’s clear I take her recovery more seriously than you do.”

Bakugo shoved Dabi back, “The fuck you do! This isn’t some rehab she checked into. You have no right to boss her around! What makes you think you know what’s best for her?”

Dabi was practically screaming now, “Because I’ve fucking been in her shoes, you ignorant ticking time bomb!” His chest was heaving now, “Did you ever wonder why I had to fake my own death just to get away from my own father… who was a fucking HERO! I’ve been poked and prodded and pushed past my limits. Except I didn’t have someone there to help me and I ended up in the League. Depressed, blood thirty, and hell bent on getting revenge on the so-called heroes that were so okay with a little boy practically killing himself every day just to produce the next number one.”

To this Bakugo didn’t have an answer. He’s heard Todoroki’s horror stories. He could only imagine what Endeavor had put Dabi through.

Dabi looked at you know eyes still furious, “I’ll make you a deal y/n. You put on quite the show this morning taking a few steps on your own. No matter how mad I am, I’ll never tell you that wasn’t a good job. But now you want to skip the very thing that allowed you to take those steps.” He walked out of the kitchen and took a seat in his recliner. “Make it over to me right now, with no help and we can skip the pool.”

With a determined scowl you pushed yourself out of your seat. Bakugo went to grab you “Y/n you don’t have to do-“

“Yes! She does, now let her do it. She needs this. Y/n you can do this. Now prove it to me and prove it to yourself.”

You took your first step, determination written all over you face. Step followed step and you had already walked further than you had this morning, but you were only about halfway there.

Dabi’s eyes were patient and his voice was calm. “Come on y/n. You can do this. You aren’t broken. There is nothing wrong with you. Just keep walking.”

You could feel the tension in the room stiffen. Bakugo watched you with his hands out as if to catch you, always your protector, always your safety net. But you didn’t need that right now.

Your knees started to wobble and buckle, and involuntary whine left your lip as you went down to one knee.

“Come on you can’t give up now. You’re doing such a good job. Now push yourself back up. I’m right here. Come on. Push harder!”

You felt a tear streak down your cheek as you tried to push yourself up but only ended up on the ground.

Bakugo was at your side in an instant but you pushed him away.

“That’s right y/n you can do this. I believe in you. I don’t care if you have to crawl. You’re so close.” You pulled yourself up enough to crawl across the rough carpet. You got up to your knees then slowly you stood.

Dabi saw the fire in your eyes and it sent a shiver down his spine. You were going to do this even if it killed you. It made him think about what you would look like in battle. If you looked even half as gritty as you do now he had no doubt you had strong men cowering at your feet. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he gave that back to you. That power, that strength, that untamable will, he knew was somewhere inside you laying dormant.

He got out of his recliner and lowered himself to the ground, “Come on your so close now. Keep going Y/N!”

With one last push you practically jumped into his arms and collapsed. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but for the first time since coming here they were happy tears. You did it. You walked all on your own.

He cooed into your hair as he rocked you back and forth, “You did such a good job. You did it. I knew you could. You can rest now. I’ll get you some ice cream. How does that sound. We’ll celebrate.”

You nodded as you clutched Dabi’s shirt.

Bakugo disappeared for a few minutes and when he came back he had his bag over his shoulder. He kneeled down next to you and pressed his forehead to yours. “I think it’s time I got back to work. I still need to take down the bastards that did this to you.” He smoothed his fingers through your hair and looked to Dabi, “I think you’re in good hands.”

He made his way to the door, “I’ll be back soon.”

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

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need

#bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #mha bakugou #bhna bakugou #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #dabi my hero academia #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #dabi todoroki #toya todoroki #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #my hero academia

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drarrymybeloved · 3 years ago

Text

Love in a Five Part Act

my third entry for the summer writin challenge! prompt: crashing a party, trope: fake dating & craft: reverse chronology. many thanks to @the-starryknight for holding my hand through this one <3

Harry is pacing. He’s walking in tight circles in the entryway, drawing curious glances from everyone passing through. He tugs at the collar of his robes, the same ones he bought with Draco. No cravat this time, though.

Draco likes to show up to these things twenty five minutes after the indicated time – “You mustn’t seem too eager nor must you be tardy” – so Harry’s been pacing for the last twenty minutes.

His stomach is a shivering ball of nerves and there’s the slightest of tremors in his hands. He could have just written a letter, or shown up at Draco’s house, but Draco likes grand gestures and Harry’s the all-in sort of guy, so here he is. Pacing.

The main doors open just then. Harry looks up, gut tightening. Dressed in peacock blue with hints of dark green, Draco looks gorgeous. Harry’s nerves calm for a second as he takes in the familiar sight – despite everything, Draco feels like home. And then Draco’s eyes find his and the nerves are back tenfold.

Draco’s mouth drops open a bit and his brow furrows before he quickly schools his features into a polite mask. He approaches Harry and asks without preamble, “What are you doing here?”

“Attending the ball?” Harry attempts feebly. He hadn’t bothered to think of exactly what he would say to Draco. Not one of his finest ideas, in retrospect.

Draco arches one unimpressed eyebrow. “Obviously, Potter. I meant why are you here?”

“Draco,” Harry whispers, giving up on a heartfelt speech and letting the one word encompass everything he’s feeling.

Draco’s eyes widen, surprise making his mask drop. He takes an uneven breath in. “We agreed, remember? We don’t need this,” he pauses and looks around before continuing in a lower tone. “This arrangement anymore. You got what you needed and so have I.”

“Yes,” Harry agrees. “I got what I needed. But what about what I want?”

A moment passes. The silence between them stretches and swells, the din of the nearby party falling away.

“And what do you want?” Draco asks finally, his voice nothing more than a whisper. His hands are restless, the tips of his fingers coming together in patterns only he’s privy to. Harry remembers Draco doing this before, when Skeeter wrote a vicious article on how “Malfoy’s Death Eater nature” was going to “corrupt our Saviour.” He remembers wanting to catch those fluttering hands in his own, to tell Draco no one listens to Skeeter anymore, tell him that he likes having Draco around and to hell with Skeeter and her ilk.

Harry allows himself to reach out this time and gently laces his hands through Draco’s.

“This,” he says, heart pounding but voice sure. He squeezes Draco’s hands once. “For real this time.”

Slowly, a smile blooms over Draco’s face, his body relaxing. “I’ve been told I’m high maintenance,” he says slightly breathlessly.

Harry laughs, relief flooding through him. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure.”

“No, you did rather well,” Draco murmurs, genuine under the banter.

Warm with fondness, Harry presses a kiss to his cheek before gesturing to the ballroom. “Shall we?” he asks, offering his arm. Draco smiles and tucks his hand securely in the crook of Harry’s elbow.

They are yet again subjected to stares that have not gotten any subtler and conversations that keep prodding at personal boundaries. But none of that matters because this time when Draco calls Harry “darling” he’s not holding anything back, and when Harry calls him “love” it’s because he wants to and not because he’s fulfilling a role.

-----

Harry steps through Draco’s Floo into his living room, letting the bright space settle the apprehension he’s been unable to shake off ever since he got Draco’s letter. He loves this room, with its neutral toned furniture interrupted with colorful cushions and throws. It suits Draco. The kitchen was more of a surprise. When he had first come here, about a week into their arrangement, Harry had been expecting modern fittings and a minimalist layout. Instead, Draco’s kitchen has exposed brick walls and buttery yellow cabinets. A honey oak table stretches through the length of the space and potted plants sit in the windowsills. Now that he knows Draco’s penchant for baking and how he likes to unwind by immersing himself in time-consuming recipes, Harry thinks nothing could suit Draco more.

“Malfoy?” Harry calls out. He’s Draco now, really, but only in the privacy of Harry’s head.

“Kitchen,” comes the answer.

“Hey,” Harry says, smiling a little at the sight of Draco in a cozy jumper bathed in warm afternoon sunlight. “Is this about the gala day after tomorrow? You think we should attend it?”

An uncertain look crosses Draco’s face before he takes a deep breath. Harry feels his smile slipping.

“Yes, I think it would be a good opportunity to meet a few people I’ve been hoping to talk with,” Draco hedges, and Harry can hear the “but” coming from a mile away. Sure enough, Draco continues. “But, I think we’ve done enough damage control, both in terms of everyone’s opinion of me and your situation with the press. I can’t keep pretending–”

He cuts himself off and presses his lips together, hands clutching the counter behind him. He’d look almost relaxed if it weren’t for the tension evident in his shoulders, his pronounced knuckles. Harry remembers kissing those knuckles, tipsy on champagne, and spinning Draco to some fast number.

“Right,” Harry says hoarsely, unable to formulate a response over the echo of “I can’t keep pretending” in his head, a mocking symphony.

He can’t think beyond the roiling in his gut and the ice pooling at the base of his spine. This was coming, it had always been coming, so why is he so surprised?

“So, that’s it then?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Yes,” Draco says stiffly. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Harry nods woodenly. Manages a “You too,” before he turns and leaves.

-----

Harry hears the Floo flare from downstairs. A second later, Malfoy calls out, “Potter?”

“Yeah, up here, second floor,” Harry answers from his room, wrestling with the complicated tie – “It’a cravat, Potter, honestly” – Malfoy had him buy for the Ministry event they’re attending tonight, along with a whole new set of dress robes.

He hears an annoyed huff from near the doorway before Malfoy comes to stand behind him.

He meets Harry’s eyes through the mirror. “What on earth are you doing with that? Here, let me.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but starts to turn around. Malfoy stops him, holding onto his shoulders to make him face the mirror again.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, steadfastly ignoring the quickening of his heartbeat at the brief contact.

Malfoy shrugs. “It’s easier this way,” he says, reaching around Harry’s chest to tie the cravat, the movement bringing him tantalisingly close to Harry.

Harry stays perfectly still, painfully aware of Malfoy’s proximity. He can feel Malfoy’s body heat, can smell his sweet vanilla scent – one tiny step backwards, and his body would be flush against Malfoy’s.

Harry closes his eyes briefly, swallowing forcefully. He opens his eyes and fixes them firmly on Malfoy’s hands in the mirror, competently manipulating the cravat with slender fingers.

Oh Merlin.

“There we go,” Malfoy tucks the cravat into Harry’s robes and smoothes his hands down Harry’s chest in a perfunctory fashion, making gooseflesh erupt all over Harry’s arms.

“Thanks,” Harry all but gasps, stepping quickly away from Malfoy, hoping he can’t see the furious blush on his cheeks. “Let’s get going then.”

It’s been a while since he’s had any good reason to attend a Ministry function, but Harry’s been to enough of them to detest the entire enterprise. He’d much rather make his donations from the safety and privacy of his own home, thank you very much. So it’s with no small amount of trepidation that Harry enters the ballroom with Malfoy on his arm.

People immediately take notice, the whispers spreading like wildfire. Harry can already feel a headache building.

“We knew they would stare – let them. I’ll do the talking, you try to look like you’re not being tortured,” Malfoy murmurs at his side, smiling charmingly at the guests they pass.

Despite himself, Harry snorts. “Who says I’m not?” he whispers back, feeling a pleasant jolt at the genuine grin Malfoy shoots him before he turns the charm back on.

As the night progresses, Harry has to admit, he’s not being tortured. It’s definitely not his idea of a fun time, but with Malfoy there, it’s at least tolerable. Each time the conversation starts heading towards Harry’s personal life, Malfoy subtly changes the topic with a well-placed enquiry.

“Would you get a glass of champagne for me, darling?” Malfoy asks, turning towards him a little, a private smile on his face. Harry’s breath hitches. The endearment is a new addition to their arrangement. But of course, it would only be natural for Malfoy to use one, especially where others could hear them.

“Sure, love,” Harry answers, not deciding to use an endearment of his own until he had already said it. Along with Malfoy’s champagne, he returns with a glass of Firewhiskey for himself, letting the spicy warmth settle his nerves.

They don’t stay for too long – Harry had been adamant on no more than an hour and a half and was surprised when Malfoy had agreed without any complaints.

“That wasn’t so bad actually,” Harry tells Malfoy as they walk towards a secluded part of the lawns to Apparate home. Their respective homes, obviously.

“Yes, it went quite well, I think,” Malfoy responds with a bright smile. “I was a little worried people might not buy us,” he gestures between them, “together, but they lapped it right up.”

Something cold and heavy sinks into Harry’s stomach, replacing the tentative warmth that was glowing through him not a minute ago. Of course. In between all the touching and the endearments and Malfoy’s surprisingly considerate nature, Harry had somehow managed to forget that this was all a show.

“Right,” Harry says, throat tight. “I think I’ll head home now, tiring night and all that.” He gives Malfoy the best approximation of a smile he can manage and Apparates away.

-----

They step out of the restaurant together, holding hands. The number of reporters camped outside had been steadily rising as Harry and Malfoy fed each other bites of food and exchanged fond looks — all carefully planned and executed of course.

The questions come hurtling at them from all sides, accompanied by bursts of camera flashes. Most of them are directed towards Harry.

"Mr. Potter, are you courting Draco Malfoy?"

"Mr. Potter, sir, did Ginevra Weasley leave you because you're interested in men?"

"Smile for the camera sir!"

“Was your relationship with Ms. Weasley a sham?”

Too much, it’s all far too much. Harry has never been good with dealing with the press, and he’s out of practice now. The flashes blind him and the questions echo oddly in his head. His chest burns with every sip of air he struggles to take.

He feels an arm snake around his waist, gripping firmly for a moment, before withdrawing to his upper back and rubbing faint circles between his shoulder blades. Malfoy steps forward, smoothly answering questions, appearing totally unruffled, while his hand continues to move over Harry's back. Harry isn't listening to a word of what Malfoy is saying. Instead, he focuses on Malfoy's hand on his back, letting the point of contact ground him, the repetitive movement soothing.

When they land on Harry's doorstep, Malfoy shoots him a curious look. His hand still rests on Harry's back — once he had answered all the questions he intended to, he'd neatly stepped back from the gaggle of reporters and Apparated them to Grimmauld right then and there.

Harry makes the mistake of looking at Malfoy. Caught up in his intense gaze and feeling a little discombobulated from the restaurant, Harry freezes. His mind is still stuck on the comfort of Malfoy’s hand on his back, of his solid grip on his waist, and his feelings are a tangled mess. Some of it must be showing on Harry’s face, because Malfoy’s expression changes and he turns more fully to Harry, the beginnings of a sentence on his lips.

Hot panic bursts in Harry’s chest. Hastily stepping away from Malfoy, he stumbles over his words. “I should, um– thanks for today, er, send me an Owl for next time,” he says, backing away towards his front door. He shuts the door before Malfoy has a chance to say anything, leaning against it for support.

-----

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, Potter,” Malfoy insists.

Harry scoffs, turning back to stare at his tumbler of whiskey — the muggle variety. He rarely visits wizarding pubs now, not unless he wants to make the front page of the Prophet and every other godforsaken wizarding tabloid.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees Malfoy rolling his eyes.

“I know strategy hasn’t always been your strong suit, Potter, but do think for a minute. Ever since your break up with Ginevra Weasley, the media attention you receive has increased tenfold. You can’t even have a drink in peace, can you?”

Harry turns back to face Malfoy, raising a pointed brow. Disappointingly, Malfoy doesn’t take the bait.

“You want the media to stop hounding you about your love life and I want to not be undesirable number one,” he continues. “It’s a simple equation, Potter, put the two together and the solution is obvious.”

“And yet, you’re the only one who’s arrived at it,” Harry says flatly, ignoring the whisper of it could work, actually floating at the back of his head.

“Please, Potter, we both know who the smart one is in this relationship and it certainly isn’t you,” Draco says, smirking.

“I never actually agreed to this fake-dating nonsense, Malfoy.”

“Potter,” Malfoy deadpans. “It’s been, what, five months now since your relationship ended? The press isn’t going to stop any time soon. Not unless you do something about it.”

“Thrilling that you’ve been keeping count,” Harry mumbles into his glass before taking a healthy swig. Malfoy’s right and Harry knows it. He’s tried everything — polite non-answers, straightforward “no comments”, pointed silence, and even snarled insults to leave him the fuck alone. None of it worked. This might just be his only option. No, it is his only option.

Harry sighs heavily and turns to Malfoy. “You’re going to be really high-maintenance, aren’t you?”

Malfoy smiles, languid and satisfied. “You know it, darling.”

#drarry #drarry fic #2021 summer writin #fake dating #fluff and angst #getting together #drarry fic rec

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arkitiore · 3 years ago

Note

Rain - RK1K for the drabble thingy 👀

Sorry this took a while to get to but here you are!

I hope you enjoy a bit of Markus hurt/comfort

October 6th 2039: 7:48PM

Markus tried for the fifth time to repair the broken latch on the umbrella only to have it once more ping downwards and hit him in the face when he attempted to open it. His brow creased while he stared at the black polyester and his teeth clenched as he went about attempting his repair for the sixth time. The umbrella was supposed to be a good one. It was expensive, it should function! The price tag had read $168 for Ra9 sake! - not that he had actually paid for the thing when he'd liberated it from the empty department store...

He was sheltering under an alcove of the building that housed Jerichos leaders while he waited for Connor to emerge from their shared room so they could finally head off to the gallery opening that Markus had been meticulously re-arranging his busy schedule around for month. As he wrestled with the broken designer umbrella he was simultaneously trying to ignore the puzzled look that he was receiving from the SQ800 security guard who stood a few feet from the door, watching him huddling under shelter from the rain while she herself was dripping wet from it and entirely unbothered.

Markus startled as the wind changed suddenly, blowing a sheet of rainwater horizontally underneath his alcove and causing the date and time on his HUD to glitch momentarily.

3̶:̴3̸4̴A̸M̷

He stilled and shut his eyes against the glitch. As if he couldn’t also see the numbers behind closed eyelids.

The wind calmed again as fast as it had changed and Markus reluctantly returned to his task , berating himself for being affected by something as trivial as water. As rainwater. As rainwater in Detroit!

He swore involuntarily as another gust of wind corresponded with the useless umbrella once more failing to latch in place. The SQ800 turned her back to Markus at the outburst with a yellow swirl of her LED, seemingly having lost interest in Markus' battle with the elements. As the freezing rainwater painted his face again he stumbled backward a step, away from his glitching HUD until his shoulders hit the rough brick behind him.

N̴̠̍ô̴̗v̶̳̈́.̵̗̒ ̶͓̓6̴̙̃t̶̺͌h̷̙̏ ̷̬͘2̷͈́0̴͉͠3̶̮̆8̴̓ͅ:̶͙̋ ̸̼̂3̵̗̍:̷̰͒3̵͖͗4̴̰̇Ǎ̸͍M̴͜͝

Hands rose to scrub across his eyes roughly, trying to shake the numbers out of his skull. He didn't understand why these episodes where becoming more frequent as time progressed. During the revolution he had never experienced a single one of these memory glitches. He has been able to stand out in the rain and thunder in high stress situations with nothing but single minded focus and determination and yet here he was now; scratching at his eyeballs trying to claw out an imaginary piece of code just from being overwhelmed while waiting to take his partner on a date for Ra9 sake.

The clawing wasn't helping, nor was backing up away from the water as far as he could go under the shallow alcove. The time stamp stood firm in his vision, flickering and glitching back and forth but steadfast in its presence.

N̴̠̍ô̴̗v̶̳̈́.̵̗̒ ̶͓̓6̴̙̃t̶̺͌h̷̙̏ ̷̬͘2̷͈́0̴͉͠3̶̮̆8̴̓ͅ:̶͙̋ ̸̼̂3̵̗̍:̷̰͒3̵͖͗4̴̰̇Ǎ̸͍M̴͜͝

His audio processors were the next to malfunction. Bursting sharply with static before cutting out all external sound to a dull, growling rumble. His hands flitted in front of him for a second, undecided in whether they wanted to re-cover his eyes to hide from his glitching HUD or to cover his ears so he didn't have to hear that muffled crash of rainfall that brought him right back to the memory of-

Two strong hands suddenly caught his wrists as they hovered indecively in front of his face and Markus mismatched eyes snapped open to gaze into two Hazel ones framed in creased brows.

He opened his mouth to speak but let out nothing but a weak fizz of static.

"The glitch again?"

He managed a nod as his eyes slid closed with a wince.

"Alright, come with me."

He felt himself being led back towards the main entrance and was dimly aware of Connor thanking the SQ800 for holding the door open for them as they entered the building before the static took over his processors completely.

October 7th 2039: 1:45AM

Markus eyes opened to the correct date and time cross-checked for their current GPS location in Detroit Michigan. He was lying in bed, surrounded by soft duvet and a couple of damp green towels. Directly in his line of vision was an extravagant jacket laid discarded across the back of a chair and Markus winced as he was hit with the guilt of the realisation that they had missed their night out because of him. He had been looking forward to the exhibition for months now, he had painstakingly re-arranged his schedule over and over again to find the time to attend it and now he'd went and wasted it because his processors couldn't withstand a little bit of the elements, because-

"Don't beat yourself up about it you obviously needed the rest more than you needed a night out" a voice spoke from above him as a hand appeared to card across his scalp. "Josh checked your diagnostics while you were in stasis, he said your up-time was almost two solid weeks, that's over double what's reccomended for your model, it's no wonder you had a glitch"

Markus turned in place until he was looking up at Connor from where his head rested in the other androids lap. He looked beautiful from that angle, bathed in the warm glow of a bedside lamp that illuminated his face and accentuated his odd mix of sharp and soft features and Markus has to stop himself despairing at the fact that he was seeing Connor like this dressed in soft pyjamas instead of the fitted suit he'd picked out for the gallery.

"What did I just tell you?" the RK800 huffed fondly "Dont beat yourself up"

Markus sighed, raising himself to sit upright and face his lover. Instead of speaking he found himself pitching forward and into the waiting embrace, burying his head into the crook for Connors neck as two arms rose to wrap around his shoulders tightly and hold him in place.

"I-" He started, and stopped. The RK800 stayed in silence, waiting patiently for Markus to finish his thought that never came.

The RK200 eventually responded instead by wrapping himself tighter around the slighter but stronger frame with another sigh, soaking in the level headed calm within the storm that was Connors presence.

The sound of rain still pattered gently on the window but now instead of glitching numbers and failing audio it brought with it nothing but a blanket of comfort and memories of the many other nights they had shared in that room, safe and warm while the storm of rain or snow or reality raged outside.

Connor leaned backwards to drag them both down horizontally into the nest of blankets, tangling their legs together and pulling Markus half into his chest which is where he stayed for the rest of the night. In silence, and in comfort until the weak morning sunlight began streaming through the window and until the rain stopped falling.

#hope you enjoy!#<3 #and thanks for the prompt #rk1k #my writing #rk1000 #connor dbh #markus dbh #ask #prompt

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dimitrescus-bitch · 4 years ago

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Not so Sweet Escape (Brianna Hanson x Reader)

“This is going to be great.” You smiled at Brianna as the two of you walked out to the beach. “I can’t believe your mom was cool with you using this place for our little getaway.”

“We have a weekend, and it isn’t like they’ll even notice we were here,” Brianna told you. You should have known better than to think she’d have told anyone here the two of you were going. However, you didn’t really care because the beach was beautiful, Brianna wasn’t working, and the house was empty. According to the drive up here, Brianna’s plans would go a lot smoother without interruptions, which had gotten you a little excited.

“Swim with me?” you asked Brianna. You stood in front of her and dropped your bathing suit cover. Brianna blew out smoke and pulled you towards her.

“Drugs and the ocean shouldn’t mix,” Brianna told you and you pouted. “But you can go swim. Go, have fun and do things that you definitely know I won’t join you in. I’ll stay here, be high, and watch you like you’re the sun and I’m a snotty little idiot and stare.”

“Such a romantic wordsmith,” you joked and Brianna pulled you down for a kiss. She nipped your lip when you pulled away and swatted your ass when you turned around. You swam around in the water for a little while and true to her word, Brianna watched you for every second. The two of you sat outside for a few more hours and Brianna started a little fire in the pit for the two of you to sit by.

“You ever have sex on the beach?” Brianna asked and you shook your head. “Want to?”

“Yes,” you told Brianna. She pulled you onto her lap and you were the one who initiated the kiss this time. Brianna let you have that control as she pulled your hips down to grind against her. “You gonna fuck me?”

“Oh yeah.” There was a smile in Brianna’s voice, like she was fighting off a chuckle or a giggle. You sat up a little straighter and tilted your neck, giving Brianna access. A part of you felt like you were being watched, but you ignored it when Brianna’s fingers slipped into your bikini bottoms. You let out a moan and that’s when you heard someone scream behind Brianna.

“Ew!”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Brianna jumped up at the sound of a voice and you fell backwards onto the edge of the towel.

“Sorry,” Brianna winced. She helped you up onto your feet and dusted some sand off of the back of your shoulders. “Mom, what are you doing back here?”

“We’ve been here all evening Brianna. Everybody is here, what are you doing here?” Immediately, you could tell that it was Brianna’s mother. You’d seen Grace Hanson’s face on products and a couple pictures before, but this woman gave off the same “don’t fuck with me” aura that Brianna did. “Who is your friend?”

“This is Y/n, she’s my partner,” Brianna said and Grace nodded. “We came up here for a getaway. Y/n, this is my mother, Grace.”

“Nice to meet you Ms. Hanson.” You held your hand out for her to shake and she did.

“Both of you inside, and Brianna, you owe Mallory an apology. I think you’ve scarred her,” Grace said and Brianna smirked a little. “And before you say something about knocking, you’re outside and there are no doors.”

“I guess you’re meeting my family and I’m making some calls to book a hotel,’ Brianna told you. You kissed her cheek as she led you inside of the beach house.

“Fine by me. I didn’t know your family knew you were bi.”

“They do know I guess,” Brianna said as she pulled open the sliding glass door. Everybody was staring in your direction, so Brianna decided to just tell everyone at once. “This is Y/n, she’s my girlfriend, no she never worked for me.”

Taglist: @storiesofsvu @xixxiixx

#brianna hanson #brianna hanson imagine #brianna hanson x reader #brianna hanson imagines #grace and frankie #grace and frankie imagine #grace and frankie imagines

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f10werfae · 2 years ago

Text

The Summer I Met You

pairing: Chris Evans x Shy!Reader

Requests are open/ Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist Full Masterlist Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Ya need any help?” She heard a deep Bostonian accent ask, looking up to see one of the guys on the trip with them, Chris Evans.

Before Y/n could even reply Grace had already spoken for her, “Nah don’t bother with her Chris, she won’t speak to you, that girl’s basically mute”

‘Here it all starts’ Y/n thought to herself, deciding to ignore them all and head on up to her room, if we was going to be on holiday then she was going to enjoy herself.

Her room was beautifully decorated, flower petals all over the place, courtesy of the hotel staff. Y/n has begun unpacking her phone buzzed,

Vacray GC 2022!!

Stephanie: Ok yall meet at 7pm for the dinner downstairs? Until then do what your heart desires :)

1. Snorkelling

With her bathing suit already on under her tshirt and shorts, all she had to do was gather her valuables and off Y/n went.

(Y/n’s P.O.V)

Closing my hotel room behind me, I bumped into one solid mass, only to hear it grunt right back at me.

“Y/n right?” Rubbing my forehead I looked up to see Chris from earlier, a charming smile on his face, a backwards cap pulling his hair back.

“U-uh yeah, you’re Chris?” I said avoiding eye contact, seemingly finding the floor more interesting than his intimidating dark blue eyes.

“Spa massages?”

“Yeah the one she sent us? She sent the invites separately”

I knew this was going to happen. I was only brought along to be the butt of their jokes, something I expected but was used to. I was not going to waste this vacation

“Uh no. No i’m not. I have my own list” I smiled holding up the tiny blue notepad in my hand, letting him read it when he reached up for it, his eyes concentrating on every single word.

“So you’re going snorkelling then first yeah?”

“Mhm I wanna see turtles” I smiled remembering the documentary I watched a while back about how they are endangered and how amazing it is to see them out in the wild where they belong.

“Can I join?” Chris asked cocking his head to the side, his thumbs now tucked into the front pockets of his swim shorts, a small smile on his face.

“I-I mean yeah of course, don’t you wanna go to the spa though?”

“I mean sure but i’d rather see some adventure, plus I dont want ya to be alone” He explains starting to walk down the hallway, causing me to run up a little to catch up to his massive steps.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Chris’ P.O.V)

Y/n and I got into the boat we were using for the snorkelling trip we were doing, my phone was switched off because of all the spammed texts I was receiving from the others. Straight from the get go I could already see they were trying to alienate Y/n, for no other reason than them thinking she was too shy to actually be fun.

“Look Chris! It’s a baby turtle!” Y/n shouted once she got into the water, pointing towards a spot where a tiny guy was floating towards the boat, even deciding to boop Y/n's finger with its head before swimming away rapidly.

“Alright alright m'comin sugar” I laughed getting into the water beside her, both our hands interlocked as we floated over the water, both our heads submerged looking at the wildlife underneath. I had even decided to buy an underwater camera at the lobby of the place, Y/n and I deciding it’d be a good idea to have ways to remember it.

Looking over at her under the water, her face was lit up by her gorgeous smile, her hair flowing freely in the water almost as if she was some siren.

(Time Skip)

“Omg that was amazing! I’m so glad we got to do that” She squealed jumping up and down once we got changed back into our clothes and showered off, both of us choosing to have a sneak peek around the gift shop.

When something small and blue caught my eye, a turtle stuffie on a keyring, perfect for her.

So while she was busy looking at some other things, I bought ut and stuffed it into my back pocket, waiting on her by the front door. The taxi waiting to bring us back to the hotel for dinner, I could tell both of us were sleepy from the activities with the way our eye lids lidded.

Y/n's shoulder had landed onto my head,

“Hey Y/n? Thanks for today, I had a lot of fun” I whispered pushing back some of her wet hair away from her face

“No problem, I had a ton of fun too! Maybe you can join me for mountain tubing tomorrow? I understand if the others-“

“I’d love to go mountain tubing with you, and between you and me, the others’ plans seem boring. All just therapeutic bullshit, which don’t get me wrong I totally get, but for the whole week? Really?” I scoffed feeling her giggle onto my bicep, my chest feeling that bit tighter, and my cheeks feeling that bit more redder.

“Also I-uh got you this earlier, reminded me of ya” I said fishing for the turtle keychain in my pocket, her fingers immediately reaching for it and squishing it like crazy. Without seeing her face, I could already tell that her eyes were probably wide and doe.

“T-thank you so much Chris, it’s so cute. I may just name it after you” She smiled looking up at me, then putting it straight onto the bag she carried around with her

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Y/n's P.O.V)

“Ah so there you guys are” I heard Chloe groan, the rest of the groups already sat down for dinner, stephanie at the head of the table looking grumpy.

“Didn’t we say 7 for dinner?” Grace grumbled throwing me a shady look, the other guys choosing to just remain silent and engage in their own conversations.

“Yeah sorry our boat took a bit to get back, there was just so much to see with the turtles-“ Chris explained before he was interrupted

“Y’all went snorkelling without us? Was it Y/n’s idea? God Y/n you’re so fucking rude, where was our invite?”

“W-well I thought you guys had massages, so I went to do my own thing and Chris wanted to come along” I explained, feeling my cheeks heat up at all of their glares, my fingers starting to fidget under the table when I felt Chris' hand grip onto mine under the table

“Uh she wasn’t rude, I know you guys purposefully didn’t send her an invite today. Frankly I’d prefer to spend my vacation with her than a bunch of assholes. Oh and Grace? She isn’t fucking mute, maybe if you took the time to talk to her like a person you’d understand that she does have a mind of her own and can speak for herself”

By the end I could see a vein throbbing at the base of Chris' neck, his face flushed because of his rant, the girls’ face red with embarrassment for being told off.

“Come on Y/n, I read up about a good restaurant a few minutes away”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Chris’ P.O.V)

“Thank you so much for treating me to dinner, standing up for me and just being there” Y/n said as we walked towards our respective hotel rooms, our pinkies linked, which somehow happened on our way home. I definitely wasn’t against it.

“It’s no problem, honestly. Thank you for making my first day here absolutely amazing, and I know I might sound stupid straight off the bat, but I think I like you? Of course I know you said during dinner you prefer to take things slow so-“

I could barely even finish my statement when U felt her lips kiss my cheek, a small squeak leaving her as she rushed to close her bedroom door and rush inside; not even letting me process what the fuck just happened.

“You dropped Chris out here by the way” I laughed seeing the poor tiny turtle stuffie had been cut off the rashness of the door. I heard her door unlock slowly before her hand slowly reached out with the palm open, a cute gesture.

“Alright here’s Chris, and my spare room key. I-I saw that it’s due to thunder tonight and I remember you saying earlier you were scared of storms so..”

Closing her hand around both items her hand retreated into her room again, a few seconds I just stood there standing for some reason, when I saw her hand hold out something to me. Her notebook.

“I-incase you wanna add anything else you wanna do, l-like for future trips I dunno” She whispered now shutting the door for definite, a bashful smile on my face as my heart started to race a tiny bit.

“See ya tomorrow bright n' early for mountain tubing then!” I shouted to her door before walking off to my room. Lowkey awaiting her presence at some point during the night, hopefully.

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @cevansgurl @imboredat2am @adoreyouusugar @fdl305 @stormcloudss @patzammit @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @chrisevansangel @evanstanwhore @seren-a-ity @chrisevansdaughter @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @vrittivsanghavi @uwiuwi @jackslover12 @marvelgurl @caps-shield1918 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @mirikusashes @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @sairsei @dumb-fawkin-bitch @kimhtoo17 @itsaylayay1213 @mrspeacem1nusone

#romance #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans one shot

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years ago

Text

Ticking Photobomb, T, 1.6k

Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley & TK Strand

TK loves Carlos, and wants their relationship to work out. Before they can recapture even a semblance of the bliss they shared, Carlos needs to fix his mistake and properly introduce TK to his family. Until then... Carlos deserves at least some punishment. He only hopes Buck will forgive him, for involving him in his and Carlos's first big fight as a couple.

Only it's not Buck's forgiveness he'll need.

ao3 link

based off of this post

He’s wary. He and TK are supposed to be enjoying a delicious meal outside at a nearby park, sun high in the sky, bright but not too cruel, as they sit together on a thin, yellow blanket, and Carlos cannot enjoy any of this beautiful date because a tiny voice in the back of his mind warns him that TK’s silence is a cover for something more sinister. His boyfriend’s smile, aimed at his phone as it has been since they arrived, means trouble. The small, continuous giggles that eke free sound like alarms. Giggles offered with every bite, where he’d type a short message and then set his phone down; only to grab it halfway through its jingling ringtone – TK never usually keeps that on. Carlos remembered him complaining how he hates ringtones, prefers having his phone vibrate. Why is it on now? And why is he texting while they’re on a date? And why does his laughter make Carlos cringe?

“Who are you texting?” he asks, finally, Carlos pushing the plastic container with his half-finished sandwich to the side.

TK glances up from his phone. “No one.”

“No one?”

“Just a friend,” TK says, pinning Carlos with a strange expression that squeezes his heart. It makes the sweat pricking his temples relocate and journey down, rolling towards his chin. Carlos wipes at his face as TK adds, “seriously, you don’t have to worry.”

It’s the way he said ‘you’ that does Carlos in. That has him dredging up what he already considered resolved since before they sat down. Discussed, at length, over the phone, with Carlos apologizing repeatedly. TK assured him they were good. “I thought we were good?”

TK sighs, “We are good.” Then, he mumbles, “As good as any two friends can be.”

Carlos’s frown deepens, mouth resembling a severe gash carved into his face. “I knew it!” Carlos cries, pointing at him. “You’re still mad at me.”

“I never said I wasn’t!”

“You said it was settled –“

“Because it is,” TK insists, a heavy glare drawing all breath out of Carlos’s chest. The façade he wore for their date has been pulled away, and Carlos sees exactly how distressed TK remained after he introduced him to his parents as his ‘friend’. Even with Carlos promising that he would remedy the situation soon, gather his boyfriend and family together and explain the truth of his romantic life, TK clings tight to the pain Carlos caused by letting fear sway his choice, both at the farmer’s market and when he let TK walk out of his home, relationship dangling from a fraying cord. It frays ever closer to breaking. “It’s settled until you work up the nerve to have that dinner you were talking about.”

Carlos splutters, “That’s not – you know, with the pandemic how hard it’s…”

His excuses further irritate TK, who retreats into his phone. He texts someone else. Perhaps the same person he’s been texting this entire time. “Then it’s settled.”

“If it’s so settled,” Carlos asks, “why even bother agreeing to our date today?” He gestures at their unfinished meals, probably cold and stale. If they weren’t, it’s not like Carlos feels like eating anymore.

TK stops texting, smirking at Carlos. Usually, it riles Carlos up in that he wants to kiss it off of him. Right now, Carlos swallows the urge to shove his boyfriend onto his ass. “A date?” TK asks, words languid and breezy, spaced out by palpable sarcasm. “Why would you think this was a date,” he continues, phone tapping against his chin, “we are just friends after all…”

Anger and disappointment converge violently inside Carlos, fighting for release. Neither can, as his vibrating phone pulls his focus from TK. He opens the message on autopilot, confused since it’s from TK. Confusion then drops into the cesspool of his emotions, like Mentos in Coke, and Carlos explodes.

“Why did you send me this?” he demands, showing TK a picture he sent to Carlos of himself. A picture they took, together, when visiting a lake one weekend long ago during the summer. A picture taken after they spent the entire afternoon swimming, bathing suits forgotten on the pier. A picture where TK’s chiseled physique was on display, skin dazzling as fading sunlight turned water droplets into diamonds, and TK’s sunglasses rested low on his nose as he smiled to the side where Carlos was. Was. As in not anymore. Only his arm, slung around his boyfriend’s shoulder, remained. Saved by being impossible to crop out. “Well?” Carlos asks again.

TK sighs, “Oh, I must have sent that by mistake.”

“You wanted to send me something else?”

“No,” TK clarifies, “I sent that to you by mistake. It was supposed to go to Buck, see?” TK shows Carlos his message thread, with the picture he sent Carlos, timestamped, showing he forwarded it to Buck first, then Carlos.

“…Buck.”

“Yeah, Buck,” TK continues, leaving his texts and diving into his photo album. He selects a group shot of the 126, plus a few extra members. He zooms closer on one face, Buck’s, enough that Carlos can distinguish the two birthmark spots above his eyebrows. “I’m sure I told you about him.”

“You did,” Carlos nods. He tears his gaze from Buck’s smile, fuming. “The firefighter who flirted with you.”

“I mean, he also helped me save my dad,” TK says, “but, yeah… he also flirted with me.” TK lowers his phone, chuckling, “We’ve just been chatting back and forth – as friends do – when I realized… y’know, I told him I wasn’t interested, because I had this really awesome boyfriend who I love, but since that’s not the case anymore, we’re only friends apparetly, I figured I might as well shoot my shot. Find out if he’s still interested. Maybe once quarantine is done, I can take some time off and… see what Los Angeles has to offer.” The eyebrow wiggle was completely unnecessary. TK communicated exactly what of Los Angeles he intends to see, regardless of how his eyebrows moved.

He’s better than this. Carlos knows what TK is doing. What the picture, and its delivery, was supposed to accomplish. What it’s succeeding at. He can win this, simply by ignoring TK’s teasing.

Except.

“You are not going to Los Angeles.” Carlos scowls, “Not without me. And especially not if Buck is gonna be there.”

TK scoffs, “What are you, my boyfriend?”

“…Yes!”

“Says who?” he asks, “Your parents?”

They’re outside. In public, surrounded by people who keep their distance. Unfortunately, their voices carry wide enough they draw a sizeable crowd. Carlos doesn’t notice until TK storms off and leaves him with the blanket, the abandoned food, and their audience.

Carlos blushes, hiding behind his hands. He wishes he never fumbled back then, in the farmer’s market. He also, briefly, wishes he and Buck switched places. At least then TK would be treating him to risqué pictures. At least Carlos would be having a good time, if he were Buck. He’d be receiving sexy photos from a certified dreamboat instead of suffering because of his own mistakes.

---------------------------

Buck stumbles over his words, stuttering, rushing out his explanation to a stone-faced Eddie. “Seriously,” he says, “I don’t – I don’t know why TK sent me that picture of him! It’s not like I asked! One second we’re talking about movies and the next thing I know – shirtless TK!”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie huffs, arms folded across his chest, “I saw.”

He shouldn’t have. If Buck hadn’t left his phone on the table to help Bobby in the kitchen. If he didn’t hear his phone beep with an arriving message, almost vibrating off the table from it. If Eddie, along with Hen and Chim, weren’t climbing the stairs at the moment, and if he ignored Buck’s plea to hand him his phone. To punch in the code – which he knew, of course Eddie knew – since Buck was wrist deep in a turkey’s hole.

Buck washed his hands immediately, drying them on his pants as he chased Eddie the few feet towards the couch.

“So,” Eddie continues, “you and TK…”

He and TK? “We’re friends,” he says, repeating himself after Eddie’s disbelieving stare. “Okay, I mean – he did turn me down once, when we were leaving Texas. But he said he had a boyfriend –“

“He turned you down?” Eddie asks, “You flirted with him?”

“No!” Buck shrugs, running his hand over his forehead, frowning at the sweat that pooled there. “Well, I didn’t think I was. But he did? And – and he left before I could say anything, but I didn’t think it mattered since he, y’know, had a boyfriend!” He stomps his foot, irritation bubbling from the pit of his stomach and out his mouth. “Besides! Why does it matter if he sends me pictures?” Nice pictures. Distracting pictures that made Buck question exactly why TK misunderstanding his friendliness was a problem. “Why are you so angry?”

“Because… because…” Eddie looks past Buck, at the peanut gallery assembled by the kitchen. Hen and Chimney watching with interest while Bobby pretends cooking a turkey involves his whole focus. None of the seem keen to jump in and help. “Because… you…” Suddenly, Eddie stands. Buck recoils, stepping backwards. “You know what,” Eddie says, digging into his pocket, “I’m telling Marjan to unfollow you on Instagram.”

“What?”

“And!” he yells, phone free and on, “I’m telling her to block you!”

“What? No – Eddie, no! Don’t!” Buck follows his friend, pleading, “C’mon, she hasn’t even liked any of my photos yet… Eddie… Eddie!”

Eddie ignores him, furiously typing the end of Buck’s most famous connection online. In his haste, Buck forgets his phone on the counter. Eddie takes precedence over his phone.

Later, Buck will return to it. He will respond to TK’s picture, sending a tidal wave of texts at the Texan firefighter ranging between the immense trouble that picture landed him in and how TK can repay him by convincing Marjan to follow him again.

But that’s later. Now Buck slams his fist against the firetruck, yelling for Eddie to unlock the door.

Eddie doesn’t.

#911 on fox #911 lone star #carlos reyes #tk strand #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #tarlos #buddie #tarlos fanfic #buddie fanfic

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years ago

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Bad For Me

A/N: This is another self-indulgent fic... Are you noticing a trend? I love this fridge of a man and this trope just... ~gets me going~! As always, please let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Nothing other than it being an age gap... Obviously this is also smut. So, consider yourself warned.

Masterlist

Freddie thinks he’s too old for you, but the age gap doesn’t stop him from staring.

You’re one of Auston’s friends, another twenty-something living it up in Toronto, so Fred knows you’re no good for him and he knows he doesn’t make sense for you, but he never stops daydreaming. Of course, he does so from behind tinted sunglasses, hoping that you don’t catch on to his wandering eyes. It’s hard not to indulge himself when you’re in Arizona the same week as him, parading around Auston’s house in that stringy little bathing suit that could come apart with just a tug of his fingers.

And he’s pretty sure you know what you’re doing, you know that he has a sweet spot for you, because as you bend over to grab another drink from the cooler, you call his name and ask if he wants another drink, despite the cold beer resting in his hand. You know he doesn’t need another, but you want him to look at your ass as you lean over the cooler anyway.

His voice is rough as he dismisses your question and he holds your gaze a little longer than necessary before you’re turning back to the cooler and grabbing a drink for yourself. You slide into the pool not long after with the other girls on your wings and Fred distracts himself, joining whatever conversation Mitch and Auston are having at the other end though it doesn’t work well. He hears you whispering amongst each other and he can feel the glances tossed his way, but he ignores it as best he can. Until you call out.

“Um, guys?”

Auston catches a glimpse of you first and rolls his eyes. Mitch laughs in contrast. And when Freddie finally turns, he knows exactly why they’ve reacted the way they did. Your top is untied around your neck and you’re pinching the strings together with a desperate look in your eyes.

“Can one of you give me a hand?”

Auston shoves Freddie forward and he places his beer down before taking a long stride over to you. He replaces your fingers with his own and watches as you pull your hair over your shoulder and away from your neck. His fingers move delicately along the string, knuckles brushing along the softest skin he’s ever touched as he fastens it.

You smell like perfume and tanning lotion and the skin of your neck looks untouched. So untouched that his mind momentarily wanders, thinking about what it’d be like to mark it up.

The bow is complete and Freddie steps away, reaching back to grab his beer to ask the blush on his cheek and drink away his traitorous thoughts.

“All done.”

You thank him before scampering back to the loungers with your tail between your legs. The girls are laughing and you’re blushing and Freddie hears you over the story Mitch is telling.

“You didn’t have to pull the strings apart, assholes.”

Freddie thinks he’s too old for you, but the lines always get blurred when he starts drinking.

After ending up in Phoenix for dinner and inhaling one too many cocktails, everyone is drunk and still going in Auston’s kitchen. You’re tucked beneath his arm while he rambles on, borderline incoherently, and Freddie is a tad jealous about the way you fit with him. He knows, deep down, that you have no interest in his teammate, but he wishes he could hold you like that without worrying about the consequences.

You catch him staring and his eyes immediately dart across the kitchen to look at Mitch. The gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by Auston, who is most definitely the drunkest in the room, and he removes his arm from your shoulders and motions towards Freddie.

“Come on,” he urges with a wicked smile on his lips. “You two should just kiss already. We’ve all been waiting for this moment, especially you two.”

“What are we? Teenagers?”

Fred’s words are dripping with sarcasm, but it’s all a front. He’s nervous and you can see the faint blush that spreads across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Auston raises his eyebrows and shakes his head before pulling his arm off your shoulder and pushing you towards his teammate. “We don’t have to kiss,” Freddie says softly.

Before you can respond, one of the girls is speaking up, “She wants to.”

You hiss your friend's name, but her smile is unwavering.

“It’s just a game,” Auston interrupts. He looks over at your friend with a smile. “Look, I’ll kiss her right now. It’s not a big deal.”

Auston leans across the counter and takes her chin between his thumb and forefinger before placing a quick kiss to her lips. After pulling away, they look at you and Freddie expectantly.

“One kiss.” Fred says it like he’s sure, but he’s not sure. He knows that one kiss isn’t going to be enough.

“One kiss is fine.”

You say it like you’re sure, but you’re not sure. One kiss isn’t going to be just fine.

“One kiss,” Fred repeats, this time staring straight at Auston.

“One kiss,” he says, but it’s a lie because even Auston knows it won’t end after one kiss.

That’s exactly why he’s making this happen.

Freddie’s arm slides around your waist to pull you in and then he kisses you with lips that mold to yours perfectly. For a moment, it seems like he might take it a step farther, but he catches himself as your lips part and pulls away. It leaves you both wanting more.

When he drops his hand from your waist, he runs his fingers along his lips as if to wipe your kiss from them, and glares at Auston.

“Happy, Matts?”

“Thrilled.”

Freddie thinks he’s too old for you, but he can’t sleep because you’re in the next room over.

The sound of Auston fucking your best friend doesn’t do him any good either. His mind keeps wandering to thoughts of you laid out on the bed for him, moaning so loud that Auston is the one that can’t sleep. He tries desperately to get the thought out of his head to no avail, and he’s springing out of bed the moment he hears a knock against the wood of his door.

You’re on the other side wearing an XXL Maple Leafs shirt and nothing covering your legs.

“I want you to kiss me like you mean it,” you demand the moment he’s standing in front of you. “Kiss me how you really want to kiss me, Fred.”

That’s all he needs to hear before his hand is curling around the nape of your neck and pulling your lips to his. He takes two steps into the room, guiding you backwards with him, and the door slams shut after he gives it a swift kick.

His hands gather the bottom of your t-shirt and he tugs it over your head to toss it on the floor before taking a half-step back to look at you. He shakes his head, in awe of your bare breasts and the lace thong covering your pussy, and then he’s back to kissing you.

He shudders as you flatten your hands against his abs and trail them down to the top of his sweats, and he chases your lips as you pull away to tug his sweats down and drop to your knees in front of him. He doesn’t quite have time to react, too caught up in the moment to realize that you’re about to blow him, but then you take him into your mouth and he’s groaning to the Heavens with his hand in your hair.

“Fuck, YN,” he speaks through his teeth. You take his cock deeper, tongue swirling around his head before deep throating him. He curses in his native language and wraps your hair around his fist as you gag around him. Your nails curl into his thighs as he guides your head along his cock. Your pace is quicker and his moans are louder and the sound of your mouth around his cock is obscene.

The words falling from his mouth are indecipherable and he can feel the crest of his orgasm creeping up on him, so he pulls you away. You gaze up at him innocently with your tongue still out and waiting, tear stains down your cheeks. He sighs heavily, dropping his hand from your hair to curl around his member.

“I’m trying to be good.”

You stand to your full-height, skin against skin, and whisper, “I don’t want you to be good.”

He can’t stop kissing you. He doesn’t want to, really, and he kisses you all the way to bed until your head is resting against the pillows.

“I want to ride you, Freddie,” you whisper, nails raking against his chest. “Will you please let me ride you?”

It’s the way you ask that question, almost like a beg, that makes him roll over, taking you with him so that you’re straddling his waist.

“This is a bad idea.”

He says it more to himself than anything as he searches for a condom in the bedside drawer, but you giggle and he realizes he was thinking out loud.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Freddie.”

He grabs a condom successfully and rips the packet with his teeth, dark eyes flickering to you as he rolls it on.

“Not yet.”

The confidence is sexy and you’re glad it’s finally come out. One of his hands curls around the base of his cock as the other teases your entrance, fingers massaging your folds before he slips two in and curls them. He watches your eyes flutter shut and smiles to himself as you grind against his fingers. You’re putting on a performance for him and he can’t stop watching. One of your hands rolls a nipple between your fingers while the other stimulates your clit.

“Ready for me?”

You nod, pouting at him for more, and he pulls out, hand placed on your hip help align you with his cock. He stops you before you can lower yourself onto it and teases you again, testing your entrance playfully, listening to you whine. Finally, he pushes the head in and you lower onto him slowly.

“You’re so big,” you moan. “Oh my--” Your breath catches in your throat as you grind down on him. You can feel him everywhere, stretching you and filling you so perfectly. He’s not even completely inside yet and you’re already seeing stars. “Fuck, Freddie.”

“You can take it,” he coaches. “Come on, baby.”

He lifts his hips to help and you gasp as he bottoms out, collapsing against his chest for a moment to steady yourself. When you finally sit up, he licks his lips at the sight of you seated on his dick. Riding him starts slow, but soon you find a rhythm and he holds your hips, watching your breasts bounce, watching the place where your bodies become one. He wasn’t often a pillow princess, but this was too good to pass up.

He pressed a thumb to your clit as you rode him, circling the sensitive nub methodically and drawing curses and moans from your lips. You arch your back and reach behind you to ride him faster, take him deeper. The pressure he’s putting on your clit elevates your senses and soon, your hands are pressed back up against his wide chest and his arms wrap around your waist to hold you tightly to him.

He fucks up into you, muscles constricting you from moving too much, helping you take his cock as deep as you can. He can feel it in the shake of your legs and hears it in your voice as you speak his name that you're going to cum, so he flips you onto your back once more. With his hands on either side of your head, he fucks you until you're chanting his name, until your back is arched and you're cumming all over his cock. It only takes a few more pumps before he’s unraveling as well.

It takes a few moments for the two of you to get your bearings, but when you do, you leave a bold trail of kisses along his collarbone. You sit up and a moan slips past your lips when you feel him still inside you. He helps you off and onto your back on the bed, his lips finding yours as you turn and your hands finding his hair. The kiss is slow and lazy and you settle into it before needing to pull away for air again.

You start cleaning up. He disposes of the condom and gets his sweats back on, you go to the bathroom and throw your oversized tee back over your body. He’s already in bed before you emerge from the bathroom with the blankets pulled back for you to rejoin him. As you curl into his body for the rest of the night, he chuckles.

“Auston’s never going to let this go.”

#freddie andersen fic #frederik andersen fic #freddie andersen imagine #frederick andersen imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey rpf #mk writes

252 notes · View notes

lavenderboneswrites · 3 years ago

Note

it’s me, kitty 🥺

👉🏻👈🏻 Shizuo and Izaya having a self care day?

they try face masks, watch movies, do their nails, eat junk food, anything that comes to your mind 🥰

Maybe they even have a bubble bath together 👀👀

I LOVE YOU BB YOURE THE BEST 💖💖💖💖💘💘💘🥰🥰🥰

Of course my beloved got her request in first <3 <3 I hope you enjoy it bb, I tried to fit as much as your fav tropes in as I possibly could. Thank you for always supporting me and letting me share my ideas with you <3 <3

I Feel it Coming

Words: 5352

Rating: Explicit

Tags: smut and fluff, shizaya, established relationship, self-care day, possessive Shizuo, light dom/sub (please check AO3 for a comprehensive list of tags)

AO3

When Shizuo gets home Izaya is nowhere to be seen.

It’s been a long day of chasing down debts and deadbeats. Shizuo sighs as he toes off his shoes at the entrance and loosens the clip on bowtie. Making a trail up the stairs and to his bedroom, Shizuo pulls off his vest off along the way. He takes care to hang it gingerly on the hanger behind the door, certain he can get a few more wears out of this one before it needed washing.

He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, loosened buttons showing off a white undershirt and the hint of defined pectorals. Most of the lights in the apartment were on, the bedroom lit by low lamplight. Izaya is obviously around, and yet he normally greets Shizuo boisterously; often from his desk because he’s forgotten to stop working.

Shizuo untucks his shirt, slipping out of his pants and letting white fabric slip below his thighs. He’s thinking he needs a shower, or maybe he’ll just fall straight into bed, but he follows the sound of running water to the en suite.

Izaya really has a ridiculous apartment. His bathroom is off his bedroom, and if you pass through it you’ll find yourself in a large walk-in wardrobe. For someone who only wears the same ugly coat everyday Izaya sure has a lot of clothes. Shizuo’s not complaining, when Izaya wears that cream oversized turtleneck it does things to him.

Shizuo follows the rush of water to the bathroom. Steam clouds the air, mixed with a pleasant floral smell. It’s dark in here, the only light an illumination of candles on the basin and other various other spots. Water is filling the bath, a mix of bubbles and rose petals on the surface. Heated tiles warm Shizuo’s feet and he can’t help but feel the tension of the day lifting slightly at the relaxing atmosphere.

Until he almost has a heart attack.

Standing in the entrance to the wardrobe is a man with a white mask over his face.

Shizuo stumbles back, heart racing a million miles an hour as the figure emerges from the dark.

“What the fuck!?”

Shizuo clutches his hand in his shirt as he tries to force his rabbiting heart to calm down.

“You look like a fucking serial killer!”

He’s still trying to calm down from the shock as the masked man attempts a grin.

“Welcome home to you too, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya’s dressed in a maroon bathrobe and on his face is one of those stupid beauty masks he loves so much. Though, the serial killer look is slightly dampened by the fluffy white headband with cat ears Izaya wears to keep his hair back.

Izaya slinks up to him, arms going to wrap around his neck and Shizuo’s hands automatically go to his waist. It’s almost like a pavlovian response at this point.

“I’m not kissing you when you look like this,” Shizuo grumbles out to which Izaya replies with only a chuckle.

It’s disconcerting. The mask has holes for his mouth and eyes, and a slit for his nostrils, but other than that he looks completely macabre.

Shizuo ignores his own words when he allows Izaya to place a small peck on his lips.

“What’s all this?” Shizuo asks, rubbing circles into Izaya’s hips absentmindedly.

“Mm?” Izaya makes his usual noncommittal noise. “I thought Shizu-chan would like some pampering after a long day at work.”

Honestly, that sounds absolutely wonderful to Shizuo right about now. He eyes the bath off, noticing two glasses of lemon and mint infused water on the hob next to it. No doubt one of Izaya’s own ‘self-care’ creations.

Izaya doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive and a sprinkling of manipulation, Shizuo thinks with his eyes narrowing back to his currently psychotic looking boyfriend.

“What’s the catch?”

“My, my … can’t I just be doing something nice for my boyfriend?”

“No,” Shizuo deadpans back to Izaya’s fake as shit voice.

He attempts to pout, but he can’t move his face muscles well without messing up the mask.

“Boo Shizu-chan, you’re no fun.”

“And you’re a pest,” Shizuo says as Izaya hangs off him like some sort of dramatic leach.

Izaya leans his head back, giving an over top groan as if Shizuo’s inability to react in the way he wants is his greatest annoyance.

“Come on,” Shizuo leans closer, mouth almost touching skin as he whispers low into his ear. “The sooner you tell me what you want the sooner you’ll get it, flea.”

Shizuo can feel the way the body in his arms tenses up momentarily, almost like a shiver going through him from the low tenor of Shizuo’s voice. Really, Izaya was pretty easy to handle once he learnt a few tricks.

One being that he was an incredibly horny fleabag.

Izaya is sliding his hands down Shizuo’s back, sweeping over the curve of his ass as he finds the hem of Shizuo’s shirt. He runs his fingers along the seam before sneaking under white fabric to press at his upper thigh.

“Hmm,” Shizuo pulls back to find copper eyes among a sea of white. Izaya’s hands on his skin are slightly distracting and just a little bit ticklish. “I want Shizuo to do a face-mask with me.”

“And?” Shizuo presses, digging the points of his thumbs into Izaya’s hips lightly.

“And have a bubble bath.”

Shizuo just pulls Izaya closer, pressing a swift kiss the crown of his head. “Alright louse, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”

Shizuo has a quick rinse off in the shower, afterwards changing into the navy bathrobe Izaya had brought to match his. It feels good to wash away the remnants of a long day, water beating down on his shoulders almost like a massage. Izaya’s shower had out of this world water pressure, honestly Shizuo was in love.

One face-mask later and the bath has finished filling. Steam is coming off the water, and Shizuo knows it’s still way too hot for either of them to get in. Though Izaya will probably try to early like always. He really was like some cold-blooded reptile, always trying to soak up as much heat as possible … usually from Shizuo himself.

Shizuo lets Izaya put his mask on. It was the best choice, considering the wet paper like cloth needed delicate handling and Shizuo would no doubt rip it immediately with his ‘monster’s paws’, as Izaya had said. He made sure to smack at Izaya with his monster paws for that comment.

The mask isn’t horrible. It’s wet and his vision is kind of obscured, and he doesn’t think it fits properly cause one side keeps curling down at his temple. Izaya had given him his own kitty ear headband to hold his fringe back, and the louse pesters him to take a few selfies together. Shizuo can’t help but snort at how ridiculous they look, kind of like a mannequin had a baby with a hockey mask.

They sit on the edge of the bathtub next to each other, sipping their drinks the best they can with the masks in the way. Shizuo eventually gets fed up and rips the sliver of paper between his nostrils and upper lip and Izaya almost chokes on his stupid lemon water laughing.

It’s cute.

It’s nice to just sit and talk, to take stock of each other’s day and catch up. Izaya plays footsies with him the entire time, and at one point Shizuo almost falls backwards into the bath trying to capture the louse’s calf between his feet.

Izaya’s hand is also rubbing once again against his thigh, sliding up under the material of his bathrobe. He massages his fingers into the muscles, pressing with precision into the knots hard enough to make Shizuo groan.

Izaya has a thing for his thighs. Shizuo doesn’t know why, but something about them makes the little pest go feral. They are thick and muscular, almost double the width of Izaya’s own legs and even if Shizuo didn’t see the appeal himself he’s happy to let Izaya have his fun.

Watching Izaya fuck himself against only his bare thigh really was a sight to behold.

After about ten minutes the face masks come off. Shizuo never could keep them on as long as Izaya; after a while it started to get too annoying and almost itchy. Still, Shizuo would be lying if he said it didn’t feel completely satisfying pealing the paper away from his skin.

He scrunches the mask into a ball, using it to rub the excess moisture of his face. Izaya folds his own mask much more neatly, leaning towards the mirror to inspect his skin as he wipes away any remaining excess.

Like every inch of that skin wasn’t flawless to begin with.

Shizuo rubs at his cheek, taking in how soft the mask has left his skin. He wasn’t that into self-care like Izaya was, but even he couldn’t deny these masks were magical.

Better was Izaya skin, which normally soft to the touch, became like silk under Shizuo’s fingertips. He can’t stop himself from reaching out, from cupping the flea’s cheek and rubbing his thumb against ivory skin.

It’s nice to finally see his unobscured face.

“Hey,” Shizuo’s turning that his to meet lips like satin in a soft kiss.

Izaya lets Shizuo set the pace to something slow and unhurried. He parts his mouth, tongue licking at the seam of Izaya’s lips before the other is turning to let him deepen the kiss further.

Shizuo licks into that wicked mouth with a careful consideration, letting Izaya’s taste flood over his tongue. There’s a hand twisting into the back of his hair and another once more kneading the flesh of his thigh.

Shizuo breaks the kiss slowly, dazzlingly eyes of whiskey alight with muted heat blinking softly back up at him.

“I’m home, Izaya.”

Izaya grins at the domestic phrase, rubs his nose against Shizuo’s and the little kiss is so cute that Shizuo can feel the tips of his ears go red.

“Welcome home, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya breath is like a whisper over his lips and Shizuo can’t help but mirror his smirk with a grin of his own.

Shizuo slips into the bath by himself, letting out a groan as the heat immediately relaxes the muscles in his back. It’s still way too hot. So hot that he can’t help but shiver, heat skittering almost painfully over sensitive nerve endings. And yet it feels like heaven, all of the tension flooding out of his body after a long day. He closes his eyes, letting his head lie back on the hob as he just soaks in the moment.

The patter of feet signal Izaya’s return. Shizuo opens one eye to see him standing before him with those same kitty ears and nothing else.

Izaya’s body is stunning. He’s lean and long limbed, but there’s a subtle grace to the way he holds himself. Shizuo always thinks of him as some kind of jungle panther. Light-footed. Slinking around like a predator. His waist is slim, and yet there is slight definition around his muscles, and his ass-, shit, his ass is a gift from God. Chasing the flea all those years had definitely paid off for him; and Shizuo was happy to enjoy the spoils too.

Izaya places a hand to Shizuo’s bicep as he steadies himself and steps into the water. Shizuo’s arm comes up to the small of his back automatically, ready to catch him at the first sign of a slip, but knowing Izaya it wasn’t necessary.

The flea slips into the space between Shizuo’s parted legs and leans back against his muscled chest. He lets out a little sigh as he submerges himself into the water up to his shoulders, obviously enjoying the heat sinking deep into his body just as Shizuo had. The noise is nice, something breathless and almost non-existent, something Shizuo is so attuned to he thinks he can almost hear it in his head rather than any physical sound.

Izaya’s leans his head back against his shoulder and Shizuo can’t help but wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him tighter against his front.

Izaya body fits perfectly against his, and not for the first time Shizuo is certain that flea was made for him.

The candles flicker with steam, and Shizuo thinks he could fall asleep right here and now.

Fwua!

A loud slapping sound breaks through his peace and Shizuo can feel giggles vibrating through Izaya’s back.

Opening his eyes again, Shizuo is met with the sight of Izaya scooping bubbles into his hands. He smacks them together quickly, the bubbles exploding into the air with his delighted giggles.

It’s too fucking cute.

“What are you, four?”

Izaya answers by twisting his neck to look over at Shizuo, a hand of foam raised and Shizuo’s barely has time to raise an eyebrow before bubbles are being blown into his face.

“Oi,” Shizuo hacks a cough, swallowing a great deal more soap than he ever wanted to. His eye twitches at the cheeky look in Izaya’s eyes and his grouchy tone really doesn’t match his own fond smile.

“Do you want me to drown you in this tub?”

Izaya pouts, “Shizu-chan don’t be mean.”

The pout cracks as his lips twitch up at the corners. Water splashes, the flea suddenly turning around fully and scooping up more bubbles.

“Shizu-chan let’s make you a bubble beard.”

“Haaah?”

“Haaah?” Izaya mocks, “come on old man.”

“I’m younger than you,” Shizuo quips back, trying to grab skinny wrists that keep trying to slap foam to his chin.

Wasn’t this supposed to be relaxing!?

Izaya’s attempts don’t ease up and he giggles as a ball of bubbles land delicately on Shizuo’s nose.

He narrows his eyes at his nose, as if the bubbles have personally offended him, and before Izaya can even get a yelp out Shizuo is shoving his head underwater.

Water goes over the sides of the tub and Izaya’s arms splash comically as Shizuo’s entire palm covers the crown of his head. He only gives it a few seconds before he lets up.

Izaya pops back up, hair sopping and stuck to his forehead as his kitty headband hangs pathetically around his neck. He splutters and coughs, attempting to glare at Shizuo as he rubs at his eyes.

Shizuo only gives a cocky raise of one eyebrow, as if to say ‘you started it’.

“Did you just try to drown me?” Izaya asks, his outrage fake as shit.

“You wanna go back under?” Shizuo threatens, but the tone is ruined by his wide smile.

Izaya grins, one shoulder coming up in a half-hearted shrug. He pulls off the headband around his neck, pouting at the state it’s in before flinging it over the side of the tub to the floor.

A glint flashes in Izaya’s eyes. It’s the only warning Shizuo gets before two hands are pressing down onto his head.

Shizuo plants his feet firmly on the bottom of the tub to stop from sliding, and Izaya’s wicked looked turns disappointed as Shizuo doesn’t budge an inch.

“Oi.”

Izaya’s eyes narrow into a look of determination, and he even gets to his knees as he tries to add even more force to Shizuo’s head.

“Why, won’t, you, die?”

Shizuo answers by letting himself suddenly slip under the water. The sudden loss of purchase has Izaya floundering and Shizuo swears he can hear him yelp through water.

Shizuo almost swallows an obscene amount of bath water from laughing before he pops back up. Izaya has slumped atop of him, arms around his neck as he holds his own head above water as if to keep himself from completely submerging.

Shizuo likes that. The way Izaya will always grab onto him, cling to him, whenever he loses his footing.

“Shizu-chan is so mean. Jail for a thousand years!”

Shizuo just chuckles, pushing Izaya’s fringe away from his forehead as he looks at him. He’s doing the face Shizuo loves, the one where his nose scrunches up oh so cutely. Shizuo loves that face, he wants to hoard it all to himself and never let anyone else see it.

If it got out Izaya was this cute Shizuo’s sure he’d have to beat off interested parties with a sick.

Mine.

Shizuo sits himself up, shaking his head like a dog to get the water out of his hair. Izaya squirms in his arms, but he doesn’t let go. Instead he manhandles the flea back into the same position they started in, with his back pressed to Shizuo’s chest, sitting between his legs.

There, Shizuo thinks triumphantly, Izaya’s wriggling getting less and less by the minute. He squeezes his thighs around the flea’s hips, wrapping his legs over the top of Izaya’s until he’s practically in a joint lock.

He’s really no match for Shizuo’s superior strength when it comes down to it. Still, it didn’t stop Izaya from trying to wrestle him daily.

“Have you calmed down you damn water rat?”

“Hmm,” Izaya hums as if he has no idea what Shizuo’s talking about. “Shouldn’t I be a water flea? Shizu-chan don’t you know it’s bad to mix metaphors?”

Shizuo just snorts at such a bratty response.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Izaya relents and relaxes back into his body and Shizuo can’t help but rub his nose against the back of his neck.

“You’re ridiculous,” Shizuo snorts into his skin, and he doesn’t need to see to know that Izaya is smirking.

He lets his lips and hands do the rest of the talking. Soft kisses trailing from Izaya’s neck to his shoulder and back again. He rubs his hands at the flea’s sides, making a path up and down slowly as he maps out every inch of creamy skin.

Izaya makes that soundless noise again, lips parted slightly as closes his eyes, focusing on sensation of Shizuo’s hands and lips on him. Shizuo’s touch is light, almost ticklish as he brushes fingertips across Izaya’s ribs, the water turning his path slick and easy.

Shizuo kisses are barely a press of lips to skin, so soft that it’s only the feel of his breath blowing out that makes Izaya’s skin erupt into goosebumps. Shizuo watches fascinated as that alabaster skin reacts before his very eyes.

Izaya’s got the faintest of freckles splayed across his shoulders, almost impossible to see unless this close. Shizuo loves to pick out each individual mark, a constellation of stars for his mouth to trace and follow. To worship and pay tribute to.

Shizuo rubs his hands from Izaya’s sides down to his hips, thighs, and back up again to his waist. Every time he trails down he moves a little bit further. Inch by torturous inch he teases skin until Izaya starts to squirm a little.

Heh.

Shizuo’s grin is wicked as he presses it under Izaya’s ear. His lips move up to brush against his pulse point and Izaya lifts his chin to allow Shizuo greater access.

Shizuo’s chuckle spills over skin for real and shivers are erupting once more over Izaya’s skin.

“Mmm?” Shizuo whispers a questioning noise, hands dipping past the heated flesh at Izaya’s inner thigh. “You like that flea?”

Izaya does a little jerk of his head, eyes closed and it really is too cute.

“Does it feel good?”

Shizuo breath is hot at his ear before he gives a playful nip to the flesh. He can feel the way Izaya’s breath hitches, the motion going through his back and making Shizuo’s own chest thrum with something primal and satisfied.

Shizuo’s rubbing his foot against Izaya’s calf muscle, feeling the way he squirms at the touch.

“What’s wrong?” Shizuo cheeks actually hurt from how wide he’s smiling. “Do you not like it?”

Izaya’s head shakes, the action almost frantic, and Shizuo rewards him by sliding the flat of his tongue over the muscle where his neck and shoulder meet.

His skin tastes clean and fresh, and Shizuo feels his mouth salivating with the desire to bite into that milky flesh. To see it bruised dark with his claim. He holds off though, content with just feeling Izaya beneath his hands, feeling the way his breathing goes a little faster at every dip closer to that heat between his legs.

“Does it feel good when I touch here?” Shizuo brushes his fingertips over Izaya’s ribs, taking in every little shudder as he whispers into his lover’s ear. “What about when I touch here?”

Shizuo’s hands trail inwards, and Izaya’s lips are parting in a gasp as his knuckles brush against the side of his cock.

“Ah, is there someone you want me to touch you flea?”

Shizuo rubs his fingers between Izaya’s thighs just above his knees, so close and yet so far, if the little whimper that escapes his lips is any indication.

Shizuo feels like an addict. There is just something about having Izaya in his arms, squirming and desperate for his touch and just … taking his time with him.

Dragging it out nice and slow.

Shizuo continues licking and sucking at the flea’s neck. Izaya has his hand trapped between his legs in a vice grip, and yet Shizuo still continues his slow, sweet touches.

He lets his touches turn rougher, digs bruises into pale skin as he sucks harshly on that spot beneath Izaya’s ear; the spot that makes him moan open-mouthed.

“Shizuo.”

His name is like a prayer on Izaya’s lips. Breathless and needy. Shizuo doesn’t know whether he’s begging for him to stop or begging for him to keep going, either way the sound sinks deep into his gut.

“Shizuo please.”

Shizuo’s grin goes impossibly wide, mouth gaping like a predator’s with its prey in its grasp. His lips find Izaya’s earlobe. He pulls the flesh into his mouth and sucks harshly.

It’s a dizzying juxtaposition. Wrenching his hand from Izaya’s thigh-crush, Shizuo grazes the tips of fingers over the head of his cock, the softest, slowest touch all night and it makes Izaya jolt.

“Fuck.”

Shizuo sucks hard at the flea’s neck, finger tips trailing down his shaft and to his navel. He rubs at the soft flesh there, relishing in the annoyed whine that Izaya makes as he moves away from his reddened cock.

“Shizuo,” he can hear the pout in Izaya’s voice.

“Look at you,” Shizuo releases Izaya’s ear with a wet sound, “I haven’t even played with your tits yet and this worked up.”

That whine becomes louder, more painful if possible, as if Izaya’s gritting his teeth together.

“Shizuo you better fucking touch me or I’m going to destroy all your stupid bartender outfits.”

It’s astounding. Izaya’s gripping his wrist so tightly Shizuo’s sure there will be indents of his nails left behind. How is it possible for him to still sound like such a vicious little thing when he’s desperately trying to put Shizuo’s unbudging hand to his leaking cock?

“Oi,” Shizuo growls low and Izaya’s body shivers fully at the sound. “Do you want me to drown you again?”

“Heh,” Izaya lips are quirking up, eyes hooded as he speaks out like silk and satin, “if you drown me there won’t be anyone around to suck your cock.”

Shizuo should’ve expected this. Expected Izaya would try to play dirty.

He was the definition of little brat that needed to be put in their place. Still, the words make his own dick jump, and he can’t help but press his erection harder into the swell of Izaya’s ass in warning.

“Oh?” Shizuo lets his tenor lilt upwards, “you wanna suck my cock that bad flea?”

Izaya snorts, and Shizuo can’t help but rub his nose against his neck in an overly affectionate gesture.

“Hey Shizu-chan,” Izaya’s turning his face, lips meeting lips in a sweet brush as he releases his death grip on Shizuo’s wrist.

Shizuo stares into dark, deep eyes; lets himself drown as Izaya presses his forehead to his.

“Yeah flea?”

Izaya eyes close, his mouth turning soft as he gives one of those rare smiles reserved just for Shizuo.

Shizuo’s eyes slip close, Izaya in his arms and his breath spilling across his face in a steady rhythm. It’s like an abstract concept become physical, a peace that Shizuo can literally hold within his hands.

Izaya dips his head to Shizuo’s neck, lips against skin as he whispers.

“I want you to tell me how badly I want to suck your cock … while you touch me.”

Shizuo’s eyes blow wide. His smile is going predator-like before he can even realise it.

Izaya was absolutely perfect.

Shizuo pulls Izaya’s body back with his, getting comfortable as Izaya settles himself in against his hold, nuzzling into his neck. Shizuo can’t help but shower his back in soft kisses.

“You want me to talk you through it baby?” Shizuo asks, letting his voice go softer. He’s cock is aching as Izaya shivers at the pet name. He forces it to the back of his mind, focus zeroing in on the body in his arms. “You look so good right now.”

Izaya just sighs and Shizuo rewards him with a kiss to his lips. It’s chaste and sweet, with the promise of something hotter simmering just beneath the surface.

He lets his hands slide through the water and up that irresistible body once more. This time when snakes his hand downwards he palms at Izaya’s cock lightly.

“Aah,” Izaya’s lets out this little moan, relief and pleasure all in one. As if not being touched had been painful, had been torture.

“That feel good? Being touched here?” Shizuo whispers a sonnet against Izaya’s neck. His eyes are wide open, mesmerized as he palms his hand with more force against the flea’s cock.

His hot in his palm, positively boiling compared to the cooling temperate of the water surrounding them. Shizuo enjoys the feel of him in his hands. Hot and heavy. Izaya has a nice cock, it’s long, not as thick as Shizuo’s but it curves nicely and his mouth waters at the sight of it.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock … for such an ugly flea.”

Izaya actually chuckles at the underhanded compliment and Shizuo feels himself flush at the sound.

Izaya was anything but ugly.

Shizuo’s certain even the most wicked of devils would repent at the beauty of his flea.

Mine, mine, mine.

Shizuo lets his touch stay slow and steady, matching his earlier exploration of Izaya’s body. He closes his fist around the shaft experimentally, the water making his slow pull even rougher.

Izaya’s head is thrown fully back onto his shoulder now. Eyes closed as he pants open-mouthed. His hips are doing these cute little jerk, moving in time with Shizuo’s hand, and every brush of his ass against Shizuo’s cock makes him want to groan out loud.

“Look at you, I bet you’re imagining it aren’t you?” Shizuo fists the head of Izaya’s cock with the barest of pressure and the other is whimpering. “My cock in your mouth … the taste of me on your tongue.”

“Ah-ah.”

Shizuo’s pace is increasing, fist going tighter as his words climb higher.

“You look so good with your mouth stuffed with my cock, baby,” Shizuo’s whispers are turning harsh in his ears. “God you feel so good around me. So wet.”

Shizuo’s eyes are closing and he can feel it. That warm wet heat enveloping him, almost overwhelming in its sensation.

“You want it so badly don’t you? Tell me how badly you want my cock.”

“Y-yes!” Izaya’s voice comes out high pitched and desperate. “I-, I want your cock … I-I need it.”

Shizuo rubs his hard dick against the crack of Izaya’s ass, in time with the flea’s desperate thrust. His lips are wet and wide against Izaya’s neck, kisses turning careless as he sucks and bites with abandon. Izaya’s body is going taunt in his arms, toes curling against the tub, abdominals clenching so tight it almost looks painful. His body is on the edge of trembling, pulled so tight Shizuo can feel that tension almost about to snap.

“Fuck baby,” Shizuo lets his voice go rough, lets it go needy.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Shizuo gives a feral growl, Izaya’s squirming and splashing in his arms as he sets a relentless pace against his cock. Shizuo twists his fist as he pulls up, water sloshing over the sides at his frantic pace. He fists the head tightly, twisting in a way that makes Izaya keen out like he’s been kicked in the gut.

“N-need you, fuck I need you baby.”

“Ah-, ah-, Shizuo!”

Shizuo’s desperation sends Izaya over the edge. The body in his arms tenses, like an electric current is running through it and then he’s shaking apart, moaning long and loud as Shizuo strokes him through his orgasm, never letting up as his cock spurts white into water.

He keeps stroking him. Izaya’s breathing is ragged as he collapses boneless atop Shizuo.

Eventually he slows his motions, letting his hand come to a steady stop as he feels all the little aftershocks shivering through the body in his arms. Izaya’s eyes are closed and Shizuo thinks he might have fucked him stupid.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Oi,” Shizuo presses a kiss to Izaya’s temple. “Don’t fall asleep flea.”

Shizuo can’t keep the smile out his voice. He has literal perfection in his arms, had that same perfection coming and calling out his name. His heart feels fit to burst…

His cock definitely is.

“Mm, Shizu-chan is such a sadist,” Izaya finally mumbles a response. He sounds dazed, like he’s intoxicated and on the verge of blacking out.

“Guess it’s a good thing you’re such a masochist then, huh?” Shizuo says between kisses to the smattering of stars over Izaya’s shoulder.

“Hmm,” Izaya’s eyes are cracking open, staring unseeing at the ceiling as he brushes a hand through the water absentmindedly. “The bath is dirty now.”

Shizuo snorts, “and who made it dirty, louse?”

“Shizu-chan should take responsibility, after all, it’s all his fault,” Izaya quips back, turning to press a smirk into Shizuo’s neck.

“Youbetter take responsibility,” Shizuo grumbles, pressing his still raging erection against Izaya’s backside in case he’d somehow forgotten about it.

Unlikely.

“But I’m tired,” Izaya whines pathetically, and Shizuo half kind of wants to drown him again. “Shizu-chan’s torture was relentless!”

Shizuo chuckles at that, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and into Izaya’s back.

“Surprised you just didn’t slip it in mid torture,” Izaya lilts with his usually vulgarity and yeah Shizuo should definitely drown him.

“Too tired,” Shizuo deadpans, “you do some work flea.”

“Heh, be careful what you wish for Shizu-chan.”

They end up in bed, barely dry as Izaya’s swallows down Shizuo’s cock like a man starving. Shizuo’s exhausted, splayed out on the bed as he hovers blissfully between the edge of sleep and the pleasure of Izaya’s hot mouth wrapped around him.

It doesn’t take long for him to come. Not long until he’s body is shaking apart and he’s calling Izaya’s name. He trembles as Izaya sucks him dry of every, last, drop.

Shizuo feels hazy, his skin hypersensitive from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He’s drifting off to sleep, Izaya snuggling in beside him and pulling the blanket up.

“Shizu-chan has tomorrow off, right?” Izaya asks innocently, and Shizuo thinks he brushes his hand through the flea’s hair but he’s not quite sure in his half-awake daze.

“Yeah.”

“Will Shizu-chan make me breakfast?”

Shizuo’s eyes are slipping closed again, the sight of Izaya tucked under his arm and snuggling into his neck the last thing he sees.

“Yeah flea,” he’s mumbling in his sleep, “do … anything…”

#shizaya #orihara izaya #heiwajima shizuo #writing request #fanfic request #oneshot #drrr #durarara #orihara izaya x heiwajima shizuo #please read tags carefully #fluff #self-care day #this was so fun too write

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honey-dewey · 4 years ago

Text

Memories as Hard as Beskar

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader

Word Count: 3,627

Warnings: Description of injury, mentions or pregnancy, flashbacks

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

Traveling with Mando had been the best part of your life. For almost three years you’d dedicated your skills as a nurse and mechanic to him and his ship. And he had repaid you in the only way he knew how. Unfortunately, your travels were long gone, halted after you found out you were pregnant. Leaving your beskar protector, you settled down to raise your babies, hoping beyond hope you would never see the man who had once enchanted you.

“Buir? What’s this?”

You turned, sighing and herding your girls closer to your side. Zhulk and Ono, your twins, were both at that stage where curiosity won over in their minds, and they insisted on checking everything out. Sometimes you didn’t mind, but you knew just how corrupt the galaxy could get, and more often than not, you sought to protect your kids from that horror.

“On’ika, come here,” you said firmly, tucking Ono to your side. She gripped your skirt, the coarse fabric rubbing against your leggings. You put a hand protectively around her head, smiling to the familiar baker who gave the girls honey buns when you weren’t looking. Even now, she slipped them bites of raisin bread, winking at you.

Zhulk skipped off once you’d grabbed bread, ever the troublesome twin. “Zhul’ika!” You shouted, following after her with Ono by your side. “Zhul’ika you get back here this instant!”

Zhulk turned, running backwards and sticking her tongue out at you. “Make me!”

“Oh you little jerk,” you growled, planting Ono with the baker, hitching up your skirt, and racing after your unruly daughter. Zhulk may have been fast, but you had endurance. All those years outrunning bounties would do that to a person, and you couldn’t help but remember the last time you’d been on a chase like this.

You grinned, feet hitting the ground and sending vibrations up your legs, but the thrill of the chase was enough to help you ignore it. The quarry in front of you, your beskar protector beside you, nothing would ever be able to deter you from this life.

“Left!” You shouted, signaling to your left. The man beside you began to veer off, taking a shortcut that would lead him to cutting the quarry off. Meanwhile, you kept up the chase, glad your protector had trained you well.

“Zhul’ika!” You shouted, seeing her turn a corner and pass out of view. “Haar'chak Zhul’ika, get back here!” The instances of the foreign language were second nature by now, a slip up and a tribute at the same time.

Zhulk turned yet again to run backwards and immediately smacked directly into someone, falling flat on her back. You rushed up, grabbing her by the scruff of her jacket and pulling her to her feet.

“Are you okay?” You asked, checking her over for injuries. When she nodded, you gave her wrists a light smack. “Or'dinii! You scared me! Don’t ever do that again!” You stood, taking Zhulk and lifting her onto your hip. She gripped your tunic, hiding her face in your shoulder. You smoothed a hand over her hair. “I’m so sorry she ran into you,” you said to whoever she’d crashed into. “She’s young and foolish and.” You stopped, finally looking at the man.

It was a mandalorian. Pure silver beskar and that faceless helmet, he was so familiar it made your heart hurt.

“It’s okay,” he promised, before walking off.

You let out a breath, chest aching. There was no doubt. That had been your Mando. The one you’d trusted, the one you’d loved. The one you’d left. That day, that horrible day, flashed through your mind.

You pressed a hand over your belly, trying to gauge whether it was bigger or not. Four used tests were scattered around the fresher, each one saying the same thing.

Positive.

Sighing, you tried to keep a level head. There was only one possible father, but you could never tell him. He’d probably kill you.

Smoothing a hand over your bare belly, you smiled, already feeling a gentle maternal instinct burning through your veins. You would already die for the bean in your stomach, and you couldn’t even see it.

In that moment, it was decided. You gathered your meager belongings from your bunk and left, leaving behind a hectic and happy life for one more stable, more suited to your new status as a parent.

“Buir?”

You snapped your head towards Zhulk. “Yes?”

“Who was that?”

Faltering for a split second, you shook your head, turning to scan for Mando again. “I don’t know cyar’ika. Why don’t we go get Ono and go home, okay?”

Zhulk buried her head in your shoulder and nodded slowly. Her chase had worn her out, something you were thankful for. Ono was still waiting for you with the baker, and you held her hand tight the entire way home.

Dinner was a calm affair, with both Ono and Zhulk staying quiet while you walked around in a trance preparing the food. Your hands moved of their own accord, chopping and cooking. Meanwhile, your head was playing back images of your life almost seven years ago.

“Mando!” You shouted playfully, looking around for your missing mandalorian. “Mando, come here!”

Mando came out from around the corner, blood still leaking sluggishly from his shoulder. You pat the mattress beside you, inviting him to sit. “C’mon. A broken warrior is no good in a fight. Let me fix you up.”

Chuckling, Mando sat beside you, stripping out of his shirt and exposing the wound. You expertly sewed it up, smeared it with bacta, and wrapped it in a bandage.

“How can I ever thank you for what you’ve done?” Mando asked, despite knowing the answer you gave every time.

“I can think of a few ways,” you purred, pressing a hand to his chest and feeling his heartbeat, wild under your fingers.

“Buir!”

You snapped out of your thoughts, nearly cutting the tip of your finger off as the knife in your hands came down. “Yes On’ika?” You said, turning.

Ono tipped her head. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” You smiled, placing the knife down and walking to the table, kissing each of your girls on top of their heads. “I’m going to finish up, okay? Then we can eat. And guess what? There’s uj’alayi for dessert!”

Both girls smiled, the promise of the cake making them behave while you finished dinner.

Once they’d eaten and you’d ushered them off to bathe away the uj’ayl syrup residue, you were finally able to relax. Unfortunately, relaxing always brought back the memories. The memories of him.

“Cyar’ika,” he said softly, playing with the hair that fell over your exposed ear. “Cyar’ika, are you still awake?”

You nodded, turning in the absolute darkness to find your mandalorian. “Barely. Why?”

Mando shrugged, you feeling his shoulder move beneath your ear. “Can’t sleep.”

Sighing, you traced a pattern into Mando’s bare chest, occasionally feeling the soft edge of the bandage on his arm. “Close your eyes my love. I’ll be here when you wake, as always.”

The sound of your girls wishing you goodnight pulled you from your reminiscing. You echoed their words, feeling a soft tug on your heart. Everything you’d ever done was to protect them, to keep them blissfully unaware of the life you’d led and the danger that faced them. You followed the girls into their room, tucking both of them in with a smile. “Sweet dreams,” you said softly.

“Buir?” Ono asked. “Can you tell us a story?”

“Yeah!” Zhulk agreed. “Something exciting.”

You smiled, settling down on Ono’s bed and gesturing Zhulk close. “Something exciting? How about a story about me?”

“We said exciting!” Zhulk pointed out, cuddling to your side.

“My life was exciting!” You argued playfully. “This is how your Buir met the scariest man they’d ever met.”

You launched into the story, making it PG so as not to scare the girls. It was a true story, but not how you met the scariest man you’d ever met. Oh no, this was the story of how you met your mandalorian.

Alarms blared from every angle as you raced down the dingy corridors and navigated flawlessly to the med bay. The station had never been this alive, not even when men had been dying. The injured person must’ve been important.

You skidded to a stop in the med bay, seeing a man you’d only ever heard about laying on one of your cots. The beskar killer. The mandalorian.

Ran had only ever spoken about the Mando briefly, and it was mostly to tell you he was dangerous and very good at his job. Now, he was bleeding out, and you were the only nurse on board the entire damned station.

Swearing violently, you moved automatically, prepping as if this were any other patient. You wheeled Mando into an operating room, transferring him to the rubber OR table and turning to get yourself ready. Gloves, a black apron, and a mask over your mouth and nose was all you were able to manage before turning back to your patient.

The stories about Mando persisted, despite your adrenaline. Never removed his helmet, not ever, and he resented droids. You wanted to ask him if the helmet rule applied to the rest of his armor, but you didn’t have time and he wasn’t exactly conscious. Instead, you set up a scanner to scan his head and look for injuries behind the beskar. Typically, you’d have a medical droid around to help, but said droid was still outside the room. You didn’t want any more reason for Mando to kill you when he came to.

Piling the armor in a haphazard stack, you cut Mando out of the rest of his clothes, tossing the heap of bloodstained fabric into a bag. Leaving him in his underwear, you took a quick catalog of injuries. His leg was cut down to the bone just above the knee, his ribs were clearly broken, both his arms sported heavy burns from the elbows down, and according to the scanner, he was concussed. Aside from the severe, he had some small scrapes that added to the mess he was making and the blood that was starting to drip onto the floor.

You began with the worst of the injuries. It took some serious reconstruction to put Mando’s leg back together in a way that would remain functional, but you did it. Finally stitching his skin together and spraying the injury with bacta, you wrapped it in a bandage and smeared your bloodied glove on the scanner’s assessment bank. It trilled and whirred while you checked for pneumothorax. Thankfully, the broken ribs hadn’t punctured a lung, so you moved on to assess the damage level, praying you wouldn’t actually have to cut Mando open.

The scanner trilled again, displaying Mando’s blood type. You grabbed a blood bag and a pain reliever, hanging both on an IV hook and finding a vein. It was quick work, and you were suddenly less scared you would accidentally kill Mando as you watched his vitals stabilize somewhat.

You continued your exam of the broken ribs, deeming the break not serious. It was a relief, despite how much pain Mando must’ve been in. At least you wouldn’t have to cut into him to put his ribs back together yourself.

Moving on to the burns, those were easy enough to treat. A strong burn cream mixed with bacta to help accelerate the healing, and you were methodically wrapping Mando’s arms in bandages.

His concussion was another thing entirely. You know you had to leave it alone, just like his ribs, but without examining his head fully, you had no idea how severe the injury was.

You stepped back, looking down. You were absolutely disgusting, bloody from fingertips to shoes. You sighed, replacing your gloves and removing your mask. Grabbing a sponge, you carefully began to clean Mando down, wiping away the blood and eventually working his limp body into a fabric medical gown. Laying him back down on the rolling table, you sighed yet again. Today had been too long. You needed a break.

Gripping the bed sheets, you blinked tears from your eyes. Both your girls were long asleep, cuddled up to your body. You lifted Zhulk out of Ono’s bed and put her in her own, tucking the blankets around her and pressing one last kiss to her forehead before you went to go get some sleep yourself.

You had a blissfully dreamless sleep. Usually when you remembered meeting Mando, you dreamt about helping him escape with the Razor Crest, you alongside him as you flew away from a horrible life and into one that you could be proud of living.

Now, ten years later, you had to wonder if you were actually proud of what you’d done.

The morning came quickly, and you got ready to walk the girls to school. They were both waiting in the kitchen, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

“Good morning!” You said cheerily, putting two bowls of cereal on the table. “Who’s ready for school?”

Neither of your girls answered. Instead, they just ate slowly, which was to be expected this early in the morning.

Thankfully, they woke up a bit more by the time you had to leave, ushering them out the door and towards the school.

You never made it.

Instead, you were interrupted by blaster fire and screaming, your old instincts forcing you to herd Zhulk and Ono into a building, putting yourself between the outside and the door. You had no blaster, but you wouldn’t let anyone hurt your girls. Not without killing you first

Unsurprisingly, Mando came skidding around a bend, spotting you and, likely on instinct, grabbing your hand and forcing you to run beside him. You followed, despite your want to stay behind. “Let me go!” You yelled, taking a sharp turn and yanking Mando along with you. “My kids! I have to protect them!”

“They’ll be fine!” Mando shouted back, holding his arm protectively across his chest.

“Dammit Mando! They’re in danger!” You took another turn, backtracking until you were at the back door of the building you’d put Zhulk and Ono into. Breathing heavy, you shoved the door open and slammed it shut just in time.

“Buir? Is that you?”

You let go of Mando’s hand, kneeling down to wrap your girls in a firm hug. “It’s me. We’re safe here ner ade. We’re safe.”

“Who’s that?” Ono asked once you’d let her go.

“Oh.” You’d almost forgotten Mando was behind you. “This is a very old friend of mine.”

You could feel the twist in your gut at the word friend. He’d been so much more at one point, and yet, you’d abandoned that bond for a word as simple as friend.

Mando sighed, falling into a wayward chair, and you were finally able to look around. The building was an old cantina, and you ushered the girls into a booth before pulling a chair up beside Mando.

“You left.” Was all he said after a minute of crushing silence.

“I did,” you agreed quietly.

Mando glanced at Zhulk and Ono, who were playing a card game on the table. “I take it they’re the reason.”

“That life was no life for a child,” you confirmed.

Another longer stare, and then the question you’d been dreading was finally asked.

“Who’s the father?”

Before you could find a way to respond, blaster fire echoed throughout the cantina. Mando jumped to his feet, shoving a bag into your chest. “I’ll get this from you later, just go!”

You slung the bag across your back, took your girl’s hands, and began to run.

It was a long trip home. You went the confusing route, throwing anyone off your tail if you had been followed. Eventually, you ushered the girls into your house, locking the door and settling in the living room.

Which was when you noticed the squealing.

The bag on your back was moving, small squeals and general noises of discomfort coming out. You opened the flap, immediately cooing and lifting the small green baby out of the bag. “Oh look at you,” you said sweetly, fingers ghosting over a small wound on the baby’s head. “Let’s get that all fixed up, okay?”

You were as gentle as possible with the baby, eventually putting him between Zhulk and Ono on the couch, tucking the three children beneath a blanket and heading off to find your blaster. It was old and probably needed to be adjusted, but it would protect you well.

Hours later, a familiar knock echoed through the house. You jumped up, opening the door and revealing Mando on your doorstep. You pulled him in and locked the door behind him.

“Kitchen, now,” you directed, falling into an old pattern despite the years. Mando followed you, sitting in a kitchen chair and allowing you to check him over, tsking as you patched a wayward injury on his forearm. He was quiet, removing his armor and making himself at home.

“Where’s the child?” He asked finally, once you’d put the first aid kit away.

“With the girls,” you said. “Safe.”

Mando stood. “Those girls. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped. It would’ve,” he paused, trying to find the words. “It would’ve made me feel better to know you were safe.”

“Dammit Mando!” You hissed, trying to keep quiet. “You think I didn’t want to? To call you and ask you to pick me up? The girls, Maker, those girls never needed a life like that, but I did! I always did!”

“So why’d you go?” Mando asked, coming close and placing his warm hands against your arms. “Why’d you leave?”

You sniffled, unaware that you’d started crying. “Can’t you see? They look nothing like me Mando. Don’t tell me you’re that dull.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

You took a breath. “They’re yours Mando. You’re the father.”

Despite seemingly already knowing, Mando was dead silent for a while, simply pressing the cold of his beskar against the warm of your forehead. Eventually, he pulled the helmet off in one swift movement and kissed you, running a hand down your back and securing you close to him. When he pulled away, you were met with familiar brown eyes, eyes he had passed on to his kids.

“Oh lord,” you muttered, tracing his features with one finger. “I always knew they looked like you, but this is scary.”

“I know,” Mando murmured. “I’m sorry I never came back for you.”

“I’m sorry I left in the first place.”

Mando chuckled. “I guess we should start over. Hello, I’m Din Djarin.”

You laughed. “Hello Din. I am madly in love with you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Din promised, kissing you again.

“Buir?”

You practically shoved Din away, whirling to find Zhulk and Ono, holding the baby, standing in the kitchen’s entry. “Hey. Why aren’t you asleep?”

“We heard a noise,” Zhulk said, looking up at Din. “Is he really just a friend?”

You knelt down, pulling the girls close. “You know how I told you many years ago that your other Buir wasn’t around anymore. That it was only ever going to be me.”

Both girls nodded.

“Well, that’s your other Buir.” You gestured to Din. “He’s a mandalorian, a very dangerous kind of person.”

Neither of them seemed fazed by that. Instead, they immediately accepted this new reality and left to go play a game. You stood, marveling at how easy that was. “Such is the mind of a child, I guess,” you mumbled. “Anyway, Din, why don’t we get caught up. I’ve got some uj’alayi, if you still like it.”

The rest of your day and most of your night passed in a blur of information and conversation. Din told you about the Child, and you told him about your girls.

“I’ve been quested to bring him to his kind,” Din said when you asked him about his plans for the future. “I know I can’t ask you to come with me. My quest is dangerous, more dangerous than my life before. It would put you and the girls at risk every day.”

You took his hand. “Din. I’m sure we could stay safe somehow.”

-two years later-

You smiled, watching Zhulk and Ono run around with Grogu. You and Din were staying with the Jedi who’d taken Grogu a year ago, simply visiting for the week. Your swollen belly prevented you from doing much besides watching, the next addition to your family ready to arrive any day now.

“Mesh’la?” Din came up behind you, putting a hand on your aching back. You smiled, kissing him as he bent down.

“Yes?”

“Have you decided on a name? He won’t stay in there forever, you know,” Din joked, kneeling down to kiss the swell of your stomach.

You laughed, reaching down to card through your riduur’s hair. “How does Jullat sound? I liked that one best.”

“Jullat Djarin,” Din mused, standing and putting an arm around your waist. “I like it.”

Jullat, as if sensing that this was a precious moment, began to kick. You laughed, pressing a hand to your belly. “Yes my little Jull’ika, I know. You’re just as ready as I am.”

Din smiled. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, kissing your cheek. “So very proud.”

You rubbed your hand over your belly, looking out over your life now. What had once been a lonely clan of three with a single parent hiding from their past was now a beautiful clan of almost six, all together. Remembering Din’s wedding vows, you pressed yourself to his side to get his attention. “We will raise warriors,” you murmured, watching Zhulk chase Ono around. “Do you think we succeeded?”

Din nodded, kissing the top of your head. “I think we did.”

“Buir! Come here!” Ono shouted, passing by you. “Zhulk’s trying to kill me!”

You chuckled, nudging Din. “That’s your cue,” you reminded. Din smiled and walked off to give Ono the advantage in their game. You sat on a stone, watching your family, all together, as it should be.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years ago

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23. Hitoshi Shinsou

Theme: Haunted mirror, dark spirit

Kinks: Mind control, fear play, bondage, non-con, cum play, fingering, possession

All underaged characters are aged up. Hitoshi Shinsou is 18+, plus this is a demon AU so he's technically way older than that. Don’t come for me unless I send for you.

Warning: This contains very graphic and dark material including but not limited to non-con, unwilling bondage, and forced orgasms. Reader discretion is advised. Scary ending.

Masterlist

Your friends noticed it first. The way your new mirror behaved strangely. Mirrors don’t misbehave; they’re mirrors. That didn’t stop your friends from talking about the weird vibes your mirror gave them. Images shifted or wavered in its reflection. Fog appeared out of nowhere. Handprints appeared when no one touched it; puffs of air clouded the surface. It was as if someone invisible lived on the other side of the mirror. Despite all their warnings and misgivings, the mirror stayed in your hallway.

“Okay, Y/N, that mirror has to go,” said Jiro.

You furrowed your brows. This wasn’t the first time Jiro, and others, suggested it. The massive antique mirror with its ornate frame continued to hang in your hall. You rolled your eyes a second later.

“What did you see more handprints, or was it a ghost this time?” You asked half-joking.

“It was a whole-ass face is what I was looking at!” Said Jiro.

“A face, really?” Your brow shot upwards. “The next thing you’re going to tell me is that you saw a deadman in my rearview mirror.”

“Jiro’s right, Y/N. I saw it too,” said Momo.

Ochaco shuddered. “It was so creepy. Its eyes were staring into my soul.”

“Not you too.” You sighed.

“Get rid of that mirror!” All at once, your three friends shouted.

“There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just a mirror, you guys. I’ve never seen anything weird. It’s just your imagination.”

Your friends didn’t appreciate you discounting their concerns. In truth, you didn’t see even half of what they claimed. The mirror was old, gathered a lot of dust, and was slightly warped. It was a unique piece that you got for a steal.

A steal alright. That should have been your first red flag, you remember Jiro a week after you purchased it. Why would anyone sell an antique mirror for so cheap?

You ignored her jab and polished it up. You ignored Jiro’s warnings now too. Your patience was growing thin with your friends because of their ghost stories and things appearing in the mirror. It was borderline ridiculous. The joke had lost its punchline a long time ago.

“There’s somebody I know who can tell you we’re not crazy. If you don’t believe her, fine. Suit yourself. But if you’re wrong, you have to pitch it.”

You shrug your shoulders. While everybody else snuck past the mirror, you were the only one to stop and look at your reflection. Just out of curiosity, you stared at it and hoped to see an apparition like your friends said you would. There was only you in the mirror. No spooky handprints, no breath fogging up the other side of the mirror, no eyeballs piercing through your soul. It was just an old mirror. You rode in the car with your friends to a metaphysical shop on the other side of town.

“Baba Yaga, this is the girl I was telling you about,” said Jiro as she gestured towards you. She was speaking with an elderly lady who wore a dark blue velvet dress and a floral shawl. “Tell her that she needs to get rid of her cursed mirror.”

She padded over to you, strolling with her knotted cane. The woman adjusted her glasses and squinted up at your face. Her eyes narrowed into sharp slits as she examined your pores. Suddenly, the woman grabbed your wrist and splayed your fingers outward. Wrinkled fingers caressed the palm of your hand, bent and examined your fingers. She shook her head from time to time and hummed to herself.

Your fingers were curled back towards your palm. The older woman pressed both of her hands around you and held on.

“You have a dark presence hovering over you, that’s for sure. It’s subtle, which makes it that much more evil. You can’t see the spirit in the mirror because it doesn’t want you to. You are in grave danger, young lady. Its power washes over you. The longer you keep that mirror, the more powerful it becomes.” You smiled politely. “I think I’ll be just fine, ma’am.”

“No, you won’t,” the old woman snapped. “You are in danger.” She repeated.

“You harbor a wicked spirit in your house. It will come to you on the night when Selene is covered by Zeus’ dark and stormy shroud. You must get rid of the mirror!”

You snatched your hand away and spun on your heels. You didn’t wait for your friends. Instead of going to the car, you called for a cab. Your phone vibrated with the text messages they sent you, but you turned your phone on silent. You arrived home just as gray clouds settled across the sky. You didn’t think much of it until you heard rain on your windows and on your roof. You barely made it inside when the storm hit.

It’s just a stupid coincidence, you told yourself.

You walked into the hall to set your jacket and purse on the hanger placed in there. You couldn’t resist stopping by the mirror. You looked into it again. You stared into its depths until your eyes began to water. There was still no sign of the ghost your friends warned you about.

You climbed up the stairs, took a bubble bath, and spent the rest of the night curled up in bed. You turned off the lights before slipping under the covers. Lighting peeled across the sky while thunder rolled. The rain helped you fall asleep, and you were warm underneath your blankets, safe and secure in the knowledge that nothing about the mirror could hurt you.

The sound of shattering glass woke you. You sat up in bed. Your hand instinctively reached for the lamp on your bedside table and tugged on the cord. Nothing. You pulled again, and your light refused to turn on. You checked your phone only to realize that your battery died despite still being plugged into a charger. You swore as you bolted out of bed. Testing the overhead light, you were again disappointed.

You pulled your door open as quietly as possible and hoped your footsteps were light enough to avoid alarming the burglars. You grabbed an umbrella by your front door. It isn’t much, but the umbrella did have a pointy end. You crept softly, pushed forward by fear to know who was in your house. But as you tip-toed, something in the hallway sparkled and grabbed your attention by the throat. You stepped closer only to realize that they were mirror shards. Pieces of glass were shattered over your floor. The mirror’s frame was bent and split apart. It held together with only a couple bits of wire.

Bile rose in your throat. You didn’t hear any footsteps or voices. You growled under your breath and glared at the mirror shards lying at your feet. No longer was it burglars you had to fear.

“That wasn’t funny, you guys!” You called out.

No one answered. You rushed back to the front door and reached for the lock, only to find that the lock was still set. Then you realized that nobody had a key to your house. Undoubtedly, your friends wouldn’t stoop so low as to break in just to smash your antique mirror.

Floorboards creaked. It was in the living room. All your bravery sank like a stone. You dropped your makeshift weapon and scrambled for the stairs. All was cloying darkness. Your hands wrapped tight around the banister as you raced up the stairs. Once you were safe on the second floor, you ran to your room and slammed shut the door. Your fingers groped in the dark for the lock and twisted it. You pushed your desk in front of your door and slowly backed away.

You walked backward to your bed then stopped dead in your tracks. You quit because you felt something tangible collide with your back. An arm like a redwood trunk snaked around your waist as a hand clapped across your mouth.

“Don’t scream just yet, little thing. Let me enjoy the smell of your fear first.” A voice husked against your ear.

A tongue dragged along your earlobe. The deep chuckle following after laughed at your shudders as they ripped through your body. You clawed at hand on your mouth, but no amount of scratching could deter him. Whoever he was, he bent his head and pressed his nose where your shoulder and neck met. A hoarse grumble vibrated in his chest, which was bare. You felt his cold, clammy skin press against your back, solid as stone. You felt him through your nightshirt in all his muscled glory. Cold beads of sweat ran down the side of your face as you realized that there was no way you could fight him.

“That’s a good girl. You know I’ve been watching you. All this time, I’ve been watching you. You must have really liked my mirror,” said he.

Your brows furrowed into a deep V-shape. Thunder clapped overhead. The old woman’s words rang in your head like funeral bells. It will come to you on the night when Selene is covered by Zeus’ dark and stormy shroud. You felt your blood throb in every vein in your body. Your heart palpitated inside your chest.

“Ah, yes. There we go. I love more than just a little bit of fear. I want you to live in terror of me. You’ll taste that much better for me.”

An orange tongue of flame appeared out of nowhere. It hovered over your desk. Your eyes took a moment to get used to the sudden light. The arm at your waist loosened only for a pair of hands to grab your biceps and squeeze. You hissed as you felt bruises form on your skin.

The man spoke in your ear again.

“Go over there and fetch the light, but do not look back at me. You may only look at me by the light of that candle, do you understand?”

You didn’t. You only saw a tongue of flame flickering while it hovered over your desk. He released you. You padded over to the desk, which blocked your only exit. You reached out just below the tiny flame. In the blackness, your fingers grazed on some warm wax. Your fingers ran up and down along a long slender black candle that appeared in your hand. Your hand trembled as you took it up.

“Good, good, you’re so wonderfully obedient. Now, slowly turn towards me and look upon the face of your new master.”

You didn’t want to, but your legs move of their own accord. You strained against the intangible threads pulling at your muscles and tendons. You felt the lower half of your body move separately from you, and you watched in horror as your feet turned to face him. You shut your eyes tight.

“I said ‘look at me.” The man’s—no. The creature’s voice dropped several octaves, and it sounded as if multiple voices erupted from his throat. Your eyes snapped open against your will. Tears made their way down your face as your eyelids were peeled open so wide. Your pupils strained in the darkness briefly. By the lighten of the orange flame, you saw him.

He was tall, muscled, and inhumanly pale. His skin was the color of moonlight on a grave. And his face gods his face. Belying his otherworldly, unearthly beauty lay the heart of a beast. Gray-purple crescents like grotesque dark circles hung under his eyes. Indigo eyes matched his hair, which he left in a mess. Like he just woke up from whatever hellscape he crawled out of. All of his muscles were taut and lean, further proving that you had no chance of fighting him off. Your feet padded across your bedroom floor towards him. An invisible hand held your chin high so that you met his gaze more clearly.

“My name is Hitoshi, and I was trapped in that mirror for four hundred years. I’ve been waiting for you. The incarnation of the witch who banished me there in the first place!” The creature spat.

Your blood turned icy cold.

“Please, please don’t kill me. I’m sorry. Let me, l-let me make it up to you. I promise I won’t hurt you ever again!”

“My plan was never to kill you.” Hitoshi reached out with his stony hand, grabbed your waist, and pulled you flush against his body. “I plan to make you mine. Forever. Then you will know the horror of being trapped against your will.”

“What? NO!”

The candle was snatched from your hand. Hitoshi turned and threw you unto the bed. The candle reappeared above your head and several other candles that melted into the bedroom’s shadows, cleaved through the air. Blidnign tongues of fire flickered above your bed.

Your clothes were ripped off you, and the torn remains bound your hands together to the bedpost above your head. The same was done to your ankles. Hitoshi stood from the bed to admire his work. The black silken pants he wore slithered off his body, revealing his proud, jutting member and the bead of pre-cum on the blunt head. Hitoshi climbed on top of the bed. The bed dipped under his weight. You thrashed about in the vain hope to yank the knots undone. Hitoshi merely laughed at your efforts.

“I suppose I’ll let you resist the first time. It’ll be more fun getting you to moan while I corrupt you.” His hands dragged upwards along your thigh. “From the inside out.”

You shook your head and cried aloud. No amount of protesting was getting you out of this. Hitoshi licked his lips and stroked his cock as he sat on his knees. He straddled your waist. He was fucking his hand right in front of you. You tried to look away, but a force held your head still, and your eyes peeled open. Hitoshi stroked long, fast, and hard.

“I-I need…to get my scent all over you. To make sure anyone else who might cause me trouble…FUCK! Tries coming around. You smell…so good!”

Hitoshi came and sprayed your face, chest, and neck with his cum. The substance was sticky and hot on your skin. He didn’t waste time smearing it all over your breasts, palming your chest, and teasing your nipples. Your body acted on instinct, not out of your desire, and bucked against him.

“It’s working, isn’t it? Just having my cum on your flesh…makes you fucking wet for me!” He wore the triumphant grin of an incubus who just seduced the most stubborn prude in the land.

“No, I’m not!”

“Oh?”

Hitoshi reached behind him and drove two fingers inside your pussy without warning. He stroked your clit before sliding between your folds and plunged as deep as his fingers could go. Your inner walls spasmed briefly against him.

“What’s this, then?” Hitoshi chuckled.

“Stop!”

Far from it, your command made him want to do it more. Hitoshi pushed a third finger inside of you and pumped faster. With his free hand, Hitoshi stroked his cock. Your eyes widened with horror at how quickly he could get it up again.

“Don’t be surprised, little thing. You can’t comprehend what I am and what I can do. Or more importantly, what I’m going to do to you.”

Hitoshi jerked off while sitting on top of you, his balls against your breasts. His fingers filled your cunt and stretched you open.

“I’m putting in another. Then after you come on four of my fingers, you get the honor of taking this cock.”

You tried shaking your head, but invisible hands grabbed your hair and pulled. They kept your head still and forced you to watch Hitoshi stroke his own cock and come all over your chest. Again.

He gave you no warning and very little prep. Hitoshi added that fourth finger. One or two satisfied you, but your pleasure wasn’t on Hitoshi’s mind. He wanted you to come while he stretched you painfully wide. He thrust in deep, almost hitting your cervix. Your cheeks burned a dark bloom at the sound of the wet squelches that your pussy made. Hitoshi pumped faster inside you just while he used his cock as a brush to smear more come on your chest.

Your hips bucked against him; your knees locked in pain. Hitoshi tied your legs so far apart that they burned, but that didn’t stop him from shoving his fingers all the way in. Your head crashed against the pillow while everything below your neck writhed and shuddered. Hitoshi watched your eyes roll into your skull as you gushed around his fingers. He waited until your body stopped humping him before pulling his fingers out. Fluid leaked out of your cunt where his fingers had prevented it from staining your bedsheets.

You whimpered and begged as Hitoshi shifted down your body. He nestled himself between your spread legs. He swiped his fingers across his tongue, put them into his mouth, and sucked them clean. His head rolled back. He groaned from deep in his throat.

“You taste like ambrosia. I’m going to enjoy fucking sense and humanity out of you.”

There was no warning. No pleasantries. Hitoshi did what he wanted. He stroked the head of his cock against your clit then aligned himself with your slit. It took one thrust to be buried deep inside of you. His hands grabbed your hips and pulled your lower body close to him. He sank on his knees and pulled his cock out, then plunged it back in. Your legs were stretched to the point of pain, muscles screaming. Hitoshi ignored your pleas.

You screamed and moaned as his cock pounded you. Your insides were being battered by some unearthly creature that escaped a cursed mirror. There was nothing you could do to stop this. His cock was long and hard and reached deep to kiss your cervix over and over. Your walls clenched around him. Hitoshi poured unwanted pleasure into your body and made it sink into your bones. Your hips thrust in time with his; your body writhed like a snake beneath him.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me who you belong to. Say it!” Hitoshi drove himself harder into your quivering body.

Your toes curled until they ached. Every limb of your body was shaking with effort.

“Y-you,” you cried aloud.

“What’s my name?” Hitoshi slammed his hips down, and your body violently shuddered with each of these movements.

“H-H-Hitoshi!”

“Who is your master?”

“You are. You’re my master. P-Please fuck me, sir!”

“Good girl. You’ll be my new favorite pet in no time.”

The room sweltered. How could someone whose body felt so cold make you pant and sweat? Your body writhed against him. You wanted to touch him, feel him, be able to look at his cock plunging inside your cunt. With his supernatural powers, Hitoshi kept your head forward and your eyes glued on him. You couldn’t watch his cock enter, retreat, and return deep inside your walls again. Your thighs were slick with sweat and cum.

More, more, more.

You needed more. Hitoshi smirked down at you while you slowly lost your mind. Your eyes became blank spaces as his control over you seeped deep into your mind. His essence filled you, just like he was going to do with his cum in just a second. Your walls fluttered and spasmed at his provocation. A light flickered in your eyes. Somewhere in your subconsciousness, you must be screaming with rage. Your body no longer belonged to you and at this moment, neither did your mind. It was mere child’s play for Hitoshi to reach inside and flip the switch. Your dulled eyes rolled into your skull again while your mouth opened wide, and your tongue lulled out. Drool dribbled down the sides of your mouth. He commanded your body to climax around his hard length. You obeyed.

You gushed, spilling everything you had. There was so much of it that it dripped to your bedsheets and on Hitoshi’s thighs. The tight clenching of your walls was enough to push him towards his own climax. Hitoshi groaned like an animal as he spilled his cum into your womb. Rope after rope warmed your lower belly until it was seeping out of your body. Hitoshi pulled out with little regard for how much it hurt. He remained on his knees to marvel at his handiwork.

You were covered in him. His white semen staining your skin and made it glisten. The light slowly returned to your eyes. He watched madness creep in as you realized just what happened to you.

Jiro knocked on your door three days later. She stood shocked at the sight of you in the doorway, appearing as you were. You’d grown a bit pale since the last time she saw you. Your neck and shoulders were covered in purple kiss marks. Bruises formed at your wrist that looked suspiciously like handprints. Dark circles hung under your eyes.

“Y/N, what happened to you?”

“Oh, I met someone recently. Let’s just say he’s really ‘fun.’” The words felt so unnatural coming out of your mouth—both to Jiro and yourself.

“Fun, you say?” Jiro looked at you up and down, unconvinced.

Hitoshi appeared behind you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed the side of your neck.

“I’m sorry, but we’re awfully busy right now,” he said. Hitoshi began to close the door on your friend. “Call back some other time.”

Jiro stood on your porch, dumbfounded.

It couldn’t be, could it? She thought.

She saw it with her own two eyes but didn’t want to believe it to be true. Those eyes which stared through the mirror were the same ones that looked at her with disdain just now. The thing in the mirror was loose.

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha smut #reader fic #horror #non con #kinktober #kinktober week #shinsou #Hitoshi Shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x reader #minors begone

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