#makes me want to just do more of this but i have Responsibilities. due to the Evils. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fictionalsweethearts · 1 day ago

Text

A CHILD FOR ZAUN | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Under pressure from the Council and with a heavy responsibility on her shoulders, Sevika decides to have a child with her wife to show her commitment with the cause. However, indirect methods are too risky and she ends up choosing the traditional way, being an equal part spectator and participant.

Contains: mention of pregnancy, threesome, male participation, voyeurism, breeding kink, wife!Sevika, dirty talking, jealousy (I could keep going).

MINORS DNI

Note: Alright, so this is some kinky ass shit, I admit, so if you're not into male participation you can enjoy my other works on my masterlist. If you're staying... enjoy.

“A child?” Sevika asked, her eyebrows knitting together at Shoola’s sudden proposition. The councilor had waited until the session had adjourned and the rest of the councilors had left to discuss this with Sevika.

The work at the council seemed endless; since the war with Noxus and all the havoc it caused—from half of Piltover in ruins, to hundreds of casualties, widowed wives an husbands, orphaned children, and protests and riots on the bridge due to Zaun’s refusal to actively collaborate with the other side of the bridge—Sevika had barely had time to make amends and command a plan of action to favor Zaun in this whole mess. She was chosen by her people to represent a city whose fate hung in the balance. There were internal disputes, the districts seemed to want to take sides in the war and attack Piltover now that it has weakened, but Sevika knew that this would cost her authority and the promise to finally include Zaun in the Council's plans and stop being marginalized from public discussion. There were sessions and sessions of disputes and long speeches, where Sevika was ignored or the problems she brought up were disregarded by the rest of the members; by everyone of course, except for Shoola and Caitlyn. Both knew the importance of including Zaun, of making its needs known, even if in the past Sevika had been the enemy, or vice versa.

"A child," Shoola insisted, professional as ever. "You're in a difficult position, you don't yet have the trust nor approval of the rest of the Council. They don't know who they're dealing with."

"How a child would make them see me differently?" Inquired Sevika, both hands on the table before her.

"You must understand that you are rare case by being on the Council and being a Zaunite," Shoola explained. "In the eyes of the others, you are still a threat. The others do not trust you to have a say in matters on this side of the bridge, because they do not know what you are putting at stake."

Sevika clenched her jaw. She was a Zaunite at Piltover's council table, a fish out of water in a world of politics and alliances.

"My loyalty lies with my city, not this side of the bridge."

"Your loyalty will bear no fruit if you are not listened to. You must prove that you are not a mere visitor, Sevika. Committing to the cause means having something to risk."

"And what do you suggest, Shoola? A Zaunite child to hold as a bargaining chip? A token that ensures our cooperation?"

"Not a token, but a proof. A proof that you're not just advocating for your own interests..." she said, her tone growing more serious. "But for those of someone you care about, and the Council can see that you do so."

"Isn't the whole city of Zaun proof enough?" She inquired.

"It's about making yourself seen, Sevika," Shoola insisted. "The rest of the Councillors have entire nations behind them; children, parents, countrymen, enemies and allies. Yet you show up here without the full backing of your people, only a small portion who are not related to you in any way other than mere conviction and ideology."

Sevika looked away, Shoola's speech seemwd to acquire more sense with every word. "Besides... a child of your own will keep you grounded, it's a reminder of why you're here and what you're fighting for." She added.

Sevika knew Shoola had a point, no matter how much she hated to admit it. She was a lone wolf in a pack of powerful families and nations, at a disadvantage before an entire lineage of renowned nobles and politicians.

"I understand the need for solidarity," she said through gritted teeth. "But a child isn't a toy to be used for political gain. I won't endanger a child just to prove a point."

Shoola's expression softened, she interlaced her fingers. "It's a necessary decision, Sevika; causes require sacrifices," she said. "There are children waiting for a change there, using one could help dozens, hundreds. You can't keep arguing with a wall."

Sevika stood there in tense silence for a long moment after Shoola left. The room felt more empty than ever. Her mind raced with the idea of being responsible for a child, of being held accountable for their well-being. With a frustrated growl, she slammed her fist down hard onto the table, the sound of her prosthetic arm hitting the wooden top echoed in the room.

"How long am I gonna fight against this?"

┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈

"Margot won't allow it." Mumbled Sevika under her breath, letting out a heavy sigh.

Sevika took another drink, stamping the glass on the desk before looking back at the map hanging on the wall. She had been in a resounding silence for twenty minutes, interrupted by her own murmurs and growls. The plan to reduce the coverage of the red light district to favor the construction of hospitals seemed more like a fantasy than a plan, taking into account the powerful influence that brothels and sexual services had in Zaun. Sevika knew that truncating that specific area would be liquidating much of the city's income; she herself, when she used to be a regular customer, could realize how essential the business was.

Suddenly, a couple of arms wrapped around her chest, the softness of your cheek against her back and your smell interrupting Sevika's thoughts.

"You're going to pierce the map if you stare at it for so long, wifey." You purred.

Unconsciously, Sevika's shoulders relaxed as she heard your voice behind her. "It's called strategizing." she said with a half smile.

"What's the deal this time?" You inquired, peeking from your wife's wide back to take a look of the map too.

Sevika's grip on the edge of the desk tightened as her gaze traveled over the map pinned to the wall. She seemed to be studying the layout, her mind working through the challenges and options.

"The Rapturewalk," she replied. "It's becoming problematic. Profits are up, but the city needs hospitals, not more entertainment venues."

"Margot won't allow it." You said, just like Sevika thought before.

She sighed loudly. "I know. But the needs of Zaun are not being met. We're prioritizing profit over basic necessities. People are suffering while Margot makes money."

You ran your hands over her shoulders, your eyes sharpening at the markings on the map before you. "Keeping Rapturewalk is your best card, actually."

"How so?"

"It's a constant and safe source of income, after Shimmer's factories." You argued, crossing your arms as you looked at the map. "Let's say that whores are the economic basis of Zaun, whether you like it or not. And the best way to generate reserves to allocate them to other projects is to take advantage of the profits of the red light district."

It was not the first time you had helped Sevika to unravel a problem of this nature. She used to pay attention to your judgment as much as the councilmen's and she trusted your vision as much as her own.

Between pouts, jokes and a kiss on her cheek, you proposed possible solutions. Sevika responded with a grunt, dragging on her cigarette before looking at the map again. "I've only been on the Council for three months… and I'm going crazy already."

"Take the mining and taxes thing as advice only," you said. "I'm just the wife, the final decision is up to you."

"Don't say that." she said firmly, walking up to you and gently grasping your arm. "You're my partner, in every sense of the word." she stated, placing a kiss on your forehead.

And the truth is that your role in Sevika's life was not limited to just being a wife. From the beginning you were a pillar for her when she didn't believe in pillars or in the need to seek support from other people, you showed her that asking for help was not a sign of weakness but of strength, although to this day it was still a bad habit of hers to swallow her problems until she vomited them out between complaints and a few days of drunkenness. That night was no exception, and as soon as you moved away from her, you noticed her staring at your abdomen longer than usual.

"Is something wrong?" you asked.

"No, nothing's wrong." she grunted, knowing she was lying.

"You sure?"

Sevika remained silent for a moment, her tone sobering. "How does children sound to you?"

You seemed speechless for a moment.

You raised your eyebrows and a flash of excitement crossed your face before you turned serious. “Sounds like something we never considered possible…”

"I know we've never discussed it. But the thought has crossed my mind a few times... I never thought it would be an option, given our circumstances. But then again, I never thought we could have a life together in a room above a poker den either."

"I, uh..." you stuttered. "It's a sort of fantasy of mine, actually." you admitted. "You always said you weren't interested in children, and I respect it."

"Well, things has changed, haven't they?" Sevika took a step closer. "We've changed."

But something wasn't fitting, and you sensed it. "Sev. Why are you suggesting this all of sudden?"

She took a deep breath, her hand dropping back to her side.

"The Council has been... making suggestions," she said. "They think it would be a... symbolic gesture. A way to bridge the gap between Zaun and Piltover."

And all clicked.

"So you want a heir, not a son." you stated.

"No, I want what's best for Zaun. And if having a child serves a greater purpose, then that's what I must do."

"A child for a purpose? A symbol." you spat, crossing your arms as the anger began blooming. "Are you trying to please those snobs? Who made you think a heir would change their vision towards you, or towards Zaun?"

"It's about making them respect us. Showing them that Zaun can play the game they set and still come out on top. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good."

"Haven't you done enough sacrifices?" you insisted. "Following Vander, then Silco's cause, then Jinx. You've sacrificed what you are every damn time and they still believe it's not enough?"

"What choice do I have?" she snapped back. "If I don't show them, if I don't do something significant, they'll continue to disregard Zaun."

"And using a child is the proper way to earn approval?"

"Babe, it's about respect!" she snapped at you, followed by a sigh when she noticed you flinched.

Silence, thick as fog, settled in the room. Sevika looked not only exhausted, but hopeless. She was making drastic decisions and she knew it. "Love… I don't expect your approval in this, just your support."

You reached out, cupping her cheek as she looked into your eyes, speaking with them. You couldn't stand against that look, you never could. "I'll think about it." you whispered. "But I want you to understand that if we have a child, I will treat him as a son first and as a political tool second."

"I understand." she nodded. "I swear I do."

As the days went by, while the Council gave no respite and neither did Zaun, Sevika planted the seed of a child in your mind frequently. She would talk to you about adoption processes when you were cooking, accompanied by a well-placed caress on your back and a kiss on your neck, and then, after making love, she would talk to you about the possibilities of testing fertilization in a laboratory. Usually you limited yourself to nodding or emitting an "mhm", still questioning the changes that a child would mean, not only as a political symbol, but as an addition to the family.

Sevika would be a good mother, no doubt. She took care of Isha for a whole month without even mentioning she cared for her, but she still came to Jinx's lair with treats and toys or gadgets that she bought at the market. She asked you to cook an extra portion for dinner and whenever you asked her why, it was because "she got hungrier lately", knowing well that it was for Isha. And when she finally admitted her affection towards the blue-haired girl, she passed away.

Sevika remained strong for Jinx and for herself, but you found her asleep in the bathtub the day she found out, her eyes swollen and stinking to whiskey.

"I loved that kid," she admitted later, once you were able to get her out of the tub. "Why is everything dying around me, babe?"

That day you promised yourself to be Sevika's anchor, and bring more joy than worries to her life.

“Baby?” you whispered after Sevika turned around. “Do you think we could visit that doctor you mentioned the other day?”

"Dr. Allard? Yeah, we can. Why?"

"We could ask for advice... about the fertilization process."

Sevika rolled over, her eyes pierced into yours. "Do you wanna... try?"

"Yes, I-" you said before Sevika swallowed your words with a kiss.

And she kissed you later that day, as you two waited for the test results. Fertilization using hextech was still in the experimental phase and was certainly based more on theories than successful cases, but you still hoped you were a suitable candidate for the procedure. Sevika held your hand as the doctor entered, her solemn face not indicating good news.

"The preliminary tests show that your body's response to the hextech fertilization process is not as strong as we would have expected. The success rates will be much lower than we had originally suggested..."

It was the formal way of announcing that achieving a baby by that means was not feasible. And Sevika read your disappointed expression while the woman continued explaining technical details that you stopped listening to. Your wife squeezed your hand and wiped the hint of a tear from your eye. "We'll find a way."

And frustration was beginning to overwhelm you and Sevika. You drank at breakfast and dinner, ruminating on the possibilities and pressuring the Zaun orphanage just to find out there wasn't a goddamn orphanage in the first place. A month of arguments, tears and breakdowns went by. The Council gave no respite, Sevika was on the verge of collapse balanced by two cities that refused to cooperate, drowning her anguish in whiskey and smoking her worries, sleeping barely a few hours and giving up her intimacy and quality time with you. You watched Sevika fall into a cycle of slavering work from which you could not get her out until you found her unconscious in the living room, passed out from exhaustion and alcohol.

And that was the last straw.

"I'll look for candidates," you said in bed, after having fed Sevika a substantial dinner and a spoonful of Shimmer. "You can choose the one you like the most."

"And if I say no?" she dared to argue.

"Then you'll quit the Council."

She was silent for a moment, too weak to argue and too tired to find another solution. She couldn't believe she would consent this.

"Fine," she said grudgingly. "You can look."

It took you no more than a week, spreading out a series of files on the living room table and asking Sevika to study each one carefully. The process took barely an hour.

"This one," she said finally, laying the sheet on the table. "It's the most suitable.

You kind of expected it, Misk. A thirty-three-year-old Zaunite in impeccable health; a rarity in a city like ours. He was an athletic man who was both handsome and noble. He was known to run a humanitarian business, providing beds, food, education, and health. A true symbol of the spark of humanity struggling to survive in the city and an indirect ally of Sevika, if she could put it that way. The file was accompanied by a photo of the man in question. He had tanned skin, pale, slanted eyes, a straight nose, and generous lips. His black hair, usually tied back in a half ponytail, was dazzling with silvery glints and vitiligo had paled half of his face, spreading across his left arm and left pectoral. You knew Sevika had chosen him for his unusual features, she had a thing for Zaun's genetic diversity.

"Did you find him handsome?" you dared to tease her.

"Qualified." grunted Sevika. "I could never call a man handsome."

┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈

"I won't repeat myself," Sevika said firmly. "We bought your silence, you keep your mouth shut. Whatever happens in this room, stays in this room."

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, an olive-colored robe as your only garment, your hair loose and your skin soft and smooth from the scented bath you took earlier. The room smelled of floral, penetrating honey, while the lights were dim and invited to retreat and intimacy.

You had prepared the room in advance for the special night; cigars lay on the coffee table in front of the wide bed with silky damask sheets. Three glasses of whiskey with ice, a jug of water, poppy oil beside the bed, aromatic herbs hung from the ceiling and a series of candles spread across the furniture and the windowsill, through which the silver bath of moonlight filtered in. You looked at Sevika, clad in a wine-colored kimono, revealing a glimpse of her bare chest and long, shapely legs. Her hair loose and her mechanical arm gleaming with Shimmer. Certainly her feminine energy was taking more prominence tonight, and you couldn't help but finding her even more beautiful.

Sitting on the couch, Misk watched Sevika intently, sipping whiskey and taking orders with the abnegation of a soldier. He had a robe on and his hair tied in a ponytail. He was more handsome in person and when Sevika first watched him walk in, she let out a chuckle. "He looks like a puppy."

"Sevika."

"He'll act like a puppy, alright."

Misk greeted you and your wife cordially, acknowledging the reasons why he was there and taking a seat on the sofa.

"This is not about your pleasure, but about the purpose. You will do as I say." continued Sevika. "You will touch my wife only when I allow it, and you will not speak unless spoken to. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"C'mere." she commanded, watching Misk stand up and come closer.

Sevika wrinkled her nose, blowing smoke into Misk's face as she studied his bearing, his face, and his scent. She parted his lips with her fingers, taking a look of his teeth and then his eyeballs, looking for any indication that would cast doubt on his medical certificate. He smelled healthy. "You're in good shape," she said, cupping the young man's jaw to look at his angles as if he was a rare animal.

Certainly for Sevika he was, she only adresses men for gambling, business or brawls. The sole thought of sharing a bed with him was uncanny still. "My wife chose well."

She ran her hand down his throat, feeling his pulse, which felt strong and steady. "Have you been in a threesome before, young man?" inquired Sevika with a dark grin.

"I have." nodded Misk.

"Good, I'm not into teaching men what they have to do." said Sevika, letting his throat go. "No funny business or I'll rip your cock off."

"Sevi." you protested from the bed.

Sevika grinned, her eyes flickering to you. "My wife seems to have a soft spot for you," she said. "Don't push your luck, then."

Misk nodded, his expression serious. "I understand."

"You're scaring him, babe." you insisted.

"He has no reason to be scared," she said shortly. "If he behaves, he'll be rewarded. If he doesn't, he'll remember it for a long time. He also signed a contract, remember? He knows what's he getting into."

Just then, Sevika seemed convinced enought to start.

“Take a seat and watch,” Sevika ordered, leaning over to stub out her cigarette in the ashtray. “You’ll join when I say so.”

You stood up, ready and eager as Sevika approached you with confident steps. She caressed your cheek. "Are you sure you're okay with him watching?" you whispered softly. "He can enter later."

"Let him stay. He can learn a thing ot two."

┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈

You squeezed your tits between your fingers, Sevika gave you a slow and methodical oral, she ate you out with all her heart and her whole face, diving between your legs and moaning against your pussy. She took all the time in the world on it, making you shudder and whimper for relief, only for your wife to straddle you on her thigh and order you to ride her as soon as you reached your first orgasm. You refused her nothing, even when Misk was on the couch watching everything and made you shy for a moment. But Sevika gave two shits about his presence, urgently kissing your mouth, whispering obscenities that only she was capable of saying and pinching your nipples between her fingers.

Misk realized that he was in front of an experienced couple, totally in tune.

"Don't look at him," she murmured. "Eyes on me, baby. I'm the one you're riding right now."

Sevika kissed you hard, filling all your senses so that you wouldn't even consider looking at a man while you were with her. She didn't take pleasure in letting a man possess you, not now or ever, but she couldn't deny that she was attracted to your pitiful moans and the way your lips would part when Misk fucked you. Sevika knew that this encounter wasn't just for a particular purpose, it was pleasurable in equal parts and she was certainly spoiling you by consenting to it.

"Admit it." whispered Sevika. "Admit that you're dying for him to fuck you. That you're dying to be the center of attention."

"No, Sev..." you whimpered.

Sevika grabbed your throat and looked into your eyes. "You're an attention seeker, even in three years of marriage that hasn't changed. And I love how desperate you are."

"Ah." that's all you could do, pant. "Ah, ah..." and your eyes softened before Sevika let your throat go and you cried your orgasm out.

You fell on top of her. Sevika cupped your neck with a tenderness she only stored for you and placed a kiss on the top of your head. "You're not allowed to be tired," she whispered to you. "Misk is still watching."

You asked for water, Misk was the one who handed you the glass and while you drank, Sevika drew circles on your back. She looked at Misk with analytical, wary eyes, knowing that the unpostponable could not be postponed.

With a kiss on the top of your head, she made you descend from her lap and wait on the bed, still a little shaken by the two previous orgasms. Misk remained in place, Sevika reached for a cigarette on the coffee table and lit it solemnly.

"Misk." she said. "Take good care of her."

You swallowed, still not believing that Sevika was giving you over to a man. A rush of adrenaline and anticipation ran through your body when Misk nodded, looking at you lying on the bed. You stood up, bare and glowing still, allowing him to come closer.

"Can I…?" he asked, clearly afraid of angering Sevika with the slightest contact on your body.

"Yes." you whispered, allowing him to wrap his hands around your waist and kiss you.

Sevika drowned her jealousy in her cigarette, watching as Misk laid you down on the bed and ventured into your skin, your breasts and your abdomen. His touch was gentle, you appreciated it since your wife had left you quite sensitive after her intervention, but you couldn't stop looking at her while he rubbed you between your legs.

You needed her close, not to be removed from the equation.

Sevika read your thoughts clearly, sitting on the couch, the tip of her cigarette glowing with each drag before she placed it on the ashtray. “Stand up,” she ordered, to which Misk seemed to back away. “I didn’t say you were leaving.”

Misk seemed to understand, allowing Sevika to position herself behind you, cupping your breasts in both hands as she began to kiss your neck. You greeted Misk with another long kiss, feeling more secure with your wife’s close supervision. Only then you moaned opnely with pleasure, parting your legs so Misk could once again rub a sensitive but so wet pussy that it left his fingers with a wet sheen.

With your wife's intervention, the evening flowed (very) well. You were already sitting on the bed, leaning against your wife's chest who was already easing a couple of fingers in you, while Misk was busy pleasing your nipples with his tongue. You moaned, looking at your wife and giving her a short kiss before looking at Misk again. The man seemed engrossed in his task, his robe sliding enought to reveal his chest and the paleness of the vitiligo. You thought he was handsome, an ideal candidate for a beautiful baby.

However, you didn't allow yourself to look at him for too long, knowing that provoking Sevika's jealousy would probably end with a dead man in the room.

"I wanna eat you out." you whined then, cupping your wife's cheek.

"Aren't you busy enough?" she teased.

"Please..."

Sevika wasn't going to deny you anything either, she loved to indulge you in everything. Not in vain she was allowing a man on her bed. Still, she hadn't pay attention to him, much less touched him; he was there as a mere tool, she insisted. Sevika tangled her fingers in your hair, her palm firm on the back of your neck as she watched you trail kisses from her chest to her pubis. She hissed, Misk kneeling behind you and kissing your spine slowly. She felt the urge to break his nose with a punch, but you kept her busy with your mouth between her legs.

“Fuck.” She growled, looking at you. “If it wasn’t for you…” she added in a whisper.

"Mhm." you moaned, venturing to ease a finger into her. And Sevika's anger was soon replaced by a stronger feeling.

You gasped, noticing the presence of his phallus, hard and wet against your entrance. Your body bristled in anticipation, believing yourself ready to receive Misk. Sevika frowned, her hand between your locks clenching tightly. Her blood boiled.

"You hurt her and I swear I'll rip your cock off," she threatened, not caring if she was ruining the mood or not. She only cared to know that her wife was willing to continue.

"It's fine." you purred, pulling back to look at Sevika. "I'm... I'm ready."

Your hands on either side of her hips, you watched Sevika the entire time. You didn’t look away from her grey eyes, not when Misk rubbed against you, not when you arched your back to allow him in. Sevika sucked in a breath between her teeth, holding your chin when your lips parted in a shaky moan.

“Fuck.” you breathed out, kissing your wife as Misk buried himself in you.

And you were embarrassed by how fucking horny you were.

You didn't know how to put your pleasure into anything but moans, words fell short. The feeling of kissing your wife, her hand around your throat while you were being fucked was delicious. Being the center of attention turned you on like nothing else, the moans, the grunts, the obscenities that reached your ears and made you smile. You soon agreed with what Sevika had said before; you love attention. The clash of skin on skin filled the room, Misk held your waist and squeezed your skin while Sevika caressed your lower lip, watching you, almost admiring you.

"Seems you're having fun." she said against your mouth. "Breaking into moans for a man, aren't you ashamed?"

"So ashamed." you whined before Misk leaned to place a kiss on your shoulder and you read Sevika's jealousy in her eyes. "But you love watching."

"I love you." she whispered, only your ears catching such strong phrase.

You lost count of how many times you gasped, or how many times Misk made you shiver with a precise thrust. Your wife watched everything, absolutely everything, scolded and admired you in equal parts, finished smoking her cigarette and gave you a tobacco-flavored kiss before forcing you upright.

"You're already all wasted, I thought I taught you better than that." she said, gripping your chin as your eyes fluttered with exhaustation. Misk had a firm hand on your shoulder, making slower but deeper thrusts. You felt him fill you again and again, causing a slight numbing sensation in your pussy.

You were reaching your limit.

Misk let out a groan, his breathing becoming irregular and noisy. "I take this is how men let you know they're about to cum?" asked Sevika with a raised eyebrow.

"Sev." you whimpered. "I'm..."

You didn't know if you were about to cum or faint, whichever came first, but it worried Sevika. You weren't used to this amount of stimulation and Misk seemed insatiably focused on his task. It was then that Sevika kissed you and left the bed. Your chest hit the mattress, Misk growled against your ear and his hips moved incessantly, to the point that you felt imprisoned by his body. You wanted to cry, it was an unknown pleasure and your body gave signs of wanting to give up.

Until you felt it, like a warm, wet torrent that made its way inside you and filled your insides. It was then that you stifled a cry into the pillow, Misk didn't seem to stop.

"I told you to take care of her, son of a bitch," Sevika said.

Misk stopped dead at the cold touch of a cannon against his temple. "You get away from her right now or I'll shoot you in the balls, you hear?"

You didn't see Misk leave the room, but you heard him. You were lying on that bed, your legs shaking, a thread of his seed seeping between your legs. Until Sevika made you close them.

"Relax, it's all over now…" your wife whispered, sitting next to you and placing a kiss on your shoulder. "I shouldn't have agreed to this in the first place."

"I'm fine…" you murmured. Exhausted and sore, you couldn't deny that you'd never felt this pleased in bed. It wasn't Misk the important addition, it was the dynamic of being watched by your wife and realizing the desire that prevailed in her gaze.

Well, desire until she seemed to kill Misk at the last minute very appealing.

"Keep them closed, sweetheart. I won't let this happen again, either you get pregnant or I set the Council on fire. You won't go through this again."

You looked up, glancing at Sevika beside you on the bed. She covered you with her kimono, tracing circles on your lower back before frowning. “Tell me the truth.”

“Mhm?”

“You fancy Misk, don’t you?”

“You already said it, Sev. It’s suitable, but I don’t like him.” you smiled despite your exhaustion, leaning over to place a hand on your wife’s knee. “I just want to give you a child, Sevika. I want to be and make you a mother.”

“You’ll look beautiful pregnant.” Sevika whispered. "So damn beautiful, round and glowing. I wonder how I got myself such gorgeous wife."

"I wonder the same..." you smiled and Sevika leaned down to give you a kiss before patting your bottom lovingly.

“I’ll run you a bath and dinner, okay? Get some rest.”

You nodded, rolling over to lean back on the soft pillows of your bed as you watched Sevika get dressed.

"Are you gonna kill him?" you asked after a moment.

"I wanted to." she admitted. "But I have too many things to attend to add murder to the list. As long as he doesn't cross my path on the street, I won't try anything."

"Okay..." you mumbled, watching Sevika leave the room. "Love you."

"Love you more."

You sighed, tired and sore, barely processing the situation that took place in that same bed you were laying on. You had never been in a threesome, and it was a good but unrepeatable experience. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, wishing with all your might that this method would work and that you could have a child for Zaun.

But above all, a child for your wife Sevika.

#arcane #arcane s2 #arcane fanfic #arcane sevika #arcane smut #sevika arcane #league of legends #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #sevika #sevika my love #sevika smut #sevika the butch you are #me and my kinky ass fantasies #sorry girls

284 notes · View notes

dandylovesturtles · 3 days ago

Text

oh yeah so Yes pretty overwhelmingly won the poll so you guys only have yourselves to blame for seeing this nonsense I will probably not do much more with lol

anyway I've been mentally calling it the Draxum's Kids AU or Step-brothers AU because I didn't come up with anything creative

high level premise is that, due to ~mystic shenanigans~, Draxum from the OU (post-movie) gets pulled through a portal to another dimension, about a year behind the OU dimension, where he kept the turtles and accomplished a lot of his human eradication goals but was also a terrible father. Draxum sees the writing on the wall that his AU self's foolish actions have led to an impending apocalypse and finds the AU's Mikey (who is only called Boxshell) to help him get back to the original dimension. But as soon as he meets back up with Boxshell his Dad Instincts kick in and he realizes he can't just leave "his" kids here to die, so he decides to kidnap all four of them back to the original dimension.

this is complicated a bit by all of them hating each other

under the cut is about 3000 words of Draxum getting abducted

Draxum would really appreciate it if they could make it six months without a potentially world ending threat.

This one seems particularly suspicious. Giant black swirling vortexes giving off massive mystic energy signatures don’t simply appear, not for no reason. The fact that Michelangelo had been the first to notice it, cocking his head to the side like a bloodhound hearing a rabbit, was not putting him at ease, either.

“Soooo,” says Leonardo, swords already drawn and held loose at his sides, “what is it, Draxy?”

That is not his name, but because the situation is serious, he answers anyway. “You expect me to know? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Come on, you’re our mystic guru! So get with the guruing!”

Draxum just gives him the look that the kids are coming to call his “not mad, just disappointed” face. He doesn’t have any more answers than he did two seconds ago. On the plus side, it doesn’t seem like anything is coming out of the dark swirly vortex, nor is anything getting sucked in. It’s just hanging there, in the sky over the Hidden City, menacingly.

“Doesn’t it feel familiar?” asks Michelangelo. Unlike Leonardo, he still hasn’t drawn any weapon. He’s just watching it, curious.

“I don’t remember the Krang portal looking like that,” says Donatello. “We could see the Prison Dimension on the other side. That’s just… an indistinct vortex of doom.”

“Not like the Krang,” says Michelangelo, but he doesn’t offer any further guesses. He just watches it with big eyes.

“But we gotta do somethin’ about it, right?” asks Raphael. “We can’t just leave it up there.”

“Well, if it’s not hurting anyone,” says Leonardo slowly.

“Just because it is not doing anything in this instant does not mean it will stay that way,” says Draxum.

“Yeah, yeah.” Leonardo slices through the air, a blue and less chaotic looking portal opening up. “Let’s check it out, Dee. Get some energy readings and all that nerd jazz. The rest of you, stay here in case it’s dangerous.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if it’s me,” says Donatello, but he steps up to the portal anyway.

Draxum feels uneasy, because he doesn’t know what that thing is or what it will do, and because he doesn’t want the two of them going alone. “I’ll come with you,” he says, and when the kids give him a look, he quickly adds, “I may notice something that Donatello would miss.”

“I don’t miss things,” Donatello snaps back, but that’s factually untrue, so Draxum just grunts in response to it.

“Sure, goatman cometh,” says Leonardo airily. “Let’s just go!”

Just to be sure nothing bad will happen, Draxum steps through first. The twins follow him.

They’re on a rooftop now, just under the vortex. Draxum had been expecting… something, but there are no threats, no signs of anything amiss. It’s a bit windy, and the vortex is making an ominous buzzing noise, but that’s all.

“Can you tell anything from here?” asks Leonardo, looking between the two of them. Donatello has his goggles down and a holoscreen up, incomprehensible numbers scrolling by at a fast pace. For his part, it seems the same to Draxum here as it did across town.

Donatello’s readings slow, and he raises the goggles again.

“It’s… definitely massive, but I can’t tell much more than that. Though… I think Mikey was right. That it feels familiar.” He looks at his brother, something complicated in his expression. “Like we’ve seen something like this before.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” says Leonardo, before turning his attention to Draxum. “How easy is it to make an interdimensional portal, anyway?”

Draxum snorts at this question. “For a pocket dimension, relatively simple. For an actual, separate world… Theoretically, it could be done, but it would take a massive amount of mystic energy and decades of experience. Especially if one does not have a mystical object to channel a portal through, like the key that was used for the Krang’s prison dimension.”

“But Mikey was able to do it,” Leonardo points out.

“Yes. And need I remind you it almost killed him.”

“You needn’t,” he snaps back. “I’m just saying… if it can be done, it really seems like someone’s trying it right now.” He still has his swords out, watching the vortex warily. “And what’re the odds that they’re coming here for a friendly visit?”

Draxum doesn’t argue there; he’s already treating whatever this is as hostile. Better to assume wrong and apologize later than to let down his guard and let one of his kids get hurt.

There’s the sound of footsteps behind them, and the three of them turn at once, startled. “Well, there’s Mikey,” Leonardo is already saying in a resigned sort of way, like he knew Michelangelo would join them before he gave the command.

“Sorry, Leo,” says Raphael, landing with heavier tread on the rooftop just behind Michelangelo. “He gave me the slip.”

“Guys, it’s fine!” Michelangelo argues, in that tone he uses when he feels like he’s being babied. “I’m telling you, whatever’s making that portal isn’t here to hurt us.”

“And you know this based on what evidence?” asks Donatello.

“It’s a feeling!”

“Ah yes, feelings, how quantifiable.”

“Well you don’t have any evidence it’s evil either, Donald!” Michelangelo retorts.

Draxum is about to step into the middle of this quarrel when Leonardo stops it for him.

“Guess we’re about to find out who’s right,” he says, eyes locked on something above them, and Draxum looks up just in time to see that there’s movement coming from the vortex now. “Dee, take Raph; Miguel, you’re with me.”

“Wait, guys, we should just-” Michelangelo tries again, but a shimmering blue portal under his feet stops him. Leonardo and Michelangelo reappear in the sky above, Leonardo using his portals to stay airborne while Michelangelo catches himself with his mystic powers. There’s the roar of a jet, and then Donnie is after them, his shimmering mystic tech carrying himself with Raphael dangling underneath.

And of course they’ve left him on the roof. Draxum sighs. Children.

He pops several vines on the roof and uses them to propel himself skyward, eyes searching for what has come through the portal, if that’s what it is. It’s difficult to see against the black coloration, but the boys seem to have gathered under a figure in a dark cloak, who emerges slowly from the middle of the vortex. It seems to cling to them like dark, black ink, the mystic energy drawing out behind them in long, gooey ropes.

Draxum knows he is still many meters away, but even still, he doesn’t think the figure is very large. It’s a surprise, given that the vortex itself is at least fifteen or more meters across, but the figure coming out is short and slight, not even as big as Michelangelo. Of course, that doesn’t mean much; plenty of yokai are small statured naturally, as are some humans. Even Lou Jitsu is small, now, but still mighty. He can’t let the size of the person put him off guard, especially when they have summoned such massive mystic energy.

“Hey!” cries out Michelangelo. “Can we talk to you!?”

The figure in the cloak seems to startle at being addressed. For a moment, they hang in the air, the ropey energy of the vortex growing thicker on their arms and legs. Almost like it’s trying to pull them back.

The figure seems to realize this, too, because they jerk forward and raise their arms in a panicked arc.

Fire comes out - dark flames with incandescent blue cores that Draxum knows are hotter than any normal flame. If the boys are struck, the damage will be severe. Thankfully, Michelangelo yelps and whirls aside before he can be burned.

“I don’t think they’re interested in talking!” calls Donatello.

“That’s alright,” yells Raphael, his ninpo lighting his body red, “because I’m interested in smashing!”

The midair fight begins in earnest now, the boys darting around the figure with their weapons drawn, even Michelangelo. The cloaked figure fights back with the flames, dark and so hot that as Draxum’s vines carry him closer, he can feel the heat coming off of them. Yet, despite the intensity of the attacks, Draxum notices that they are unwieldy and unpracticed, like the wielder has no real experience in fighting, and certainly not midair against so many opponents. Add to that, the strange, inklike properties of the still-spinning vortex seem to be actively trying to pull the figure back; each time they make progress, the moment their attention is drawn by one of the boys, they’re yanked back another few feet.

Draxum sprouts a few more vines off his main one, so that he can move more freely. Aerial combat has never been his forte, but he can make it work. So long as none of those desperate fire attacks burn through his vines and send him tumbling to the ground (he can only hope, in that event, that one of the twins notices him).

The cloaked figure is still attacking wildly, and the boys have to move fast to keep out of the way. It’s easier for Michelangelo and Donatello, who can stay airborne indefinitely; Leonardo, meanwhile, has to use his portals to catch himself and Raphael periodically, portalling them back to the sky or giving them a portal to ground to launch off of. This leaves them open to attack.

Draxum couldn’t have made it in time if he’d wanted to, but in the moment he isn’t thinking he has to.

One of the unfocused black flames strikes Raphael; his ninpo projection protects him from being harmed, but he still lets out a gasp of surprise as it burns rapidly through the ninpo itself, leaving him exposed. Donatello swoops in to catch him before he can fall, and all the boys hang back for a moment, stunned by this development.

“What was that!?” Leonardo calls out, portaling above Donatello and landing on his constructed battleshell (Donatello says, “Oof!” loudly, but doesn’t throw him off). “It just burned through Raph’s shield like it was tissue paper!”

“Augh… that felt… weird.” Raphael is rubbing at his temple with his fingers. “Raph did not like that.”

“Alright, clearly this guy is dangerous.” Leonardo is tense, eyes focused as he watches the cloaked figure yank free of the stringy ropes of magic from the vortex, coming closer. “But see how the portal’s trying to pull them back in? We just gotta get them close enough and send ‘em back where they came from.”

He glances over at Michelangelo. Draxum looks, too. The boy’s brow is creased, like he isn’t happy with this outcome, but his eyes are focused on Raphael.

“...Yeah,” he says finally, and gives his nunchucks a swing. They light up with his orange ninpo, the bright fire a stark contrast to their enemy’s dark flames. “Let’s send ‘em back!”

The boys spring back into action, and Draxum follows suit, his vines carrying him up, closer to the vortex. Now he can feel more of the thing’s power directly, a great gusting wind that pulls rather than pushes. He hangs back from the direct fighting and instead watches the boys closely, should he need to intervene the way he hadn’t for Raphael. If the fire can eat through their ninpo, then any of them being struck would be disastrous - especially if one of the others could not catch them in time.

The kids are succeeding in their gambit to push the figure back towards the vortex, but that means they are also increasingly putting themselves in range of its dangerous reach. The ropey strands of dark mystic energy reach out like hungry tendrils, latching onto scales before being cut or shaken off. Leonardo has all but abandoned the fight against the figure and instead puts his efforts into slicing the strands apart any time they touch one of his brothers, either directly with his katana or with a well placed portal. He leaves the strands that attach themselves to the mysterious person, and they wrap more firmly around the legs, arms, and neck of the one in the cloak.

And that’s when they finally speak.

“No!” they cry out, in a voice unmistakably juvenile. “No, please! I just want to escape - don’t make me go back!”

Michelangelo stops short, bobbing uncertainly only a few meters from the screaming figure (a boy, Draxum thinks, but cannot be sure). “Guys,” he says hesitantly, lowering his weapons. “I really think we should-”

Whatever he was about to say is interrupted by a burst of flames from the cloaked boy’s hands, spiraling directly towards him.

“MIKEY!” shout several voices at once; Draxum only realizes a beat later that one of them is his. He’s the closest, and he moves fast, putting himself and a wall of vines between the flames and his son.

The flames make such short work of the vines, it’s almost comical. Draxum watches as the fire races down the towering stalk he’s made, eating them away and leaving nothing behind, not even ashes. The vine Draxum was standing on is, of course, completely obliterated, and he feels the swoop in his stomach as gravity starts its relentless pull.

“Dad!” he hears Michelangelo call out. The boy reaches a hand toward them, and in his panic Draxum reaches back. They are only a few meters from each other, and then less and then less, fingers almost touching-

But it is something else that grabs him first.

The vortex’s dark energy feels disgusting and slimy where it touches Draxum’s fur, like a leech pulled from some noxious bog. Its tug is ferociously strong, and he realizes that if Leonardo had not been quick, if the magic had wrapped around any of his brothers’ limbs the way it’s wrapped around Draxum’s arm, disentangling them would have taken massive effort. As it’s going to take to free him now.

There’s a yank, and he’s ripped away from Michelangelo and towards the vortex.

“No!” screeches the cloaked boy, and sputtering flames spill out around him, forcing the turtles back before they can move in to rescue him. “No! Get away! Leave me alone!”

“Gladly!” Draxum shouts back, ripping and yanking to try and free his arm. “Just close this foolish portal and go back where you came from!”

“I can’t!” the boy screams, and he sounds so wretched, Draxum almost feels some sympathy for him. “I can’t! I can’t!”

“You must!” Draxum argues, because he can tell. The energy has wrapped too securely around the cloaked boy now; there will be no freeing him. The portal he made is impressive, especially as young as he sounds, but it is not complete. He could not be severed from it, even if they tried to help. In fact, if they fully pulled him from the vortex, it would likely kill the child.

No; he must go back. But… is there still time for Draxum?

“Barry!” he hears the boys call out. They try to get close, but another burst of searing heat from the panicked boy in the vortex keeps them from advancing. More of the stringy ropes of magic are wrapping around Draxum now, on his arms, his torso, his legs. His neck. They yank him back, hard, and he gasps as the air leaves his lungs. The mystic energy slithers over him like a living creature, wrapping him up more and more securely in its snare.

It seems… there is not.

“NO!” screams the cloaked boy, one last panicked, desperate cry, but then his voice is abruptly silenced. There’s a roaring noise, incomprehensibly loud, and Draxum faintly wonders if this is how it sounds when a star collapses in on itself.

The last thing he sees as the portal closes around him is Michelangelo’s face, eyes wide and afraid, mouth open in a shout, hand outstretched as far as it can go.

And then all is dark.

…

When Draxum wakes, he’s laying on the ground in an alley in the Hidden City.

He feels a flash of something markedly unpleasant when he realizes he’s alone: sadness, betrayal, perhaps even, Titan forbid, loneliness. It seems the boys have left him to his fate and gone home.

Then he remembers the portal, and Donatello and Michelangelo’s guess that it was interdimensional. It’s likely the boys don’t know where he is. It’s possible he’s not even in the same time.

Or the same world at all.

Disturbing as that thought is, the part of the Hidden City he can see from his vantage point seems familiar enough. He recognizes this as a part of the old downtown, not far from where he and the kids had been fighting the cloaked boy. Even if this isn’t his time, at least he should still be able to navigate - that makes things easier.

He gets to his feet, shaking the soreness out of his limbs. He hears something pop, and is suddenly immensely glad the boys aren’t here after all. He’d rather not endure another round of teasing for being “old”.

The Hidden City he travels through seems largely the same as the one he left, to a degree that he starts to wonder if it wasn’t an interdimensional portal after all. If it was, the dimension he’s in now seems to have only slight variations.

Or that’s what he thinks, until he makes it to the nearest portal back to New York City.

There’s a checkpoint set up in front of it, one that didn’t exist here before. There are guards standing sentinel, ushering through a line of yokai and occasionally asking questions. They don’t seem hostile to the yokai, but it does seem like precautions need to be taken for… some reason.

More startling to Draxum are the crests that adorn banners hung around the checkpoint, matching emblems blazed on the uniforms of the officers.

His family’s crest.

It seems this dimension is quite different after all.

#dandy fanfiction #step-brothers au

112 notes · View notes

respectthepetty · 2 days ago

Text

I wanna talk about the toe

You know, the scene where Fujisawa squeezed Sei's injured toe!

In the first episode, Kaori stated that a broken nail was actually a simple fracture and really just needed a little care to strengthen it.

Which is exactly what she did for Sei

But just like everything else in this show, this discussion isn't about a toe. The toe could be about the embarrassment we feel, so we continue to suffer even when an easy fix exists.

And it could also be about the true source of pain.

Kaori and Fujisawa are not bad people, and the show hasn't presented them as such, but Sei questioned if Kaori was aware of how upset Hagiwara was about the growing distance in their relationship.

Then the show immediately answered that question through Ayako's testimony. Kaori isn't just aware; she's happy about their situation.

Sei also asked what Kaori didn't like about Hagiwara.

And the show answered that as well. Kaori doesn't like that he is a man.

They aren't broken. It could just be a fracture. And there is an easy fix. But instead, they continue to suffer.

Then there is the actual toe, which is Sei's toe. He hit his foot on the table, in the house of a man who designs furniture.

Yet Fujisawa is rarely home.

Sei hurt his foot after Fujisawa avoided their conversation, and Fujisawa hadn't been home or spoken to Sei since, which is why he barely found out that Sei had hurt his foot after dinner. Then, he immediately squeezed the toe.

Regardless if Fujisawa designed the table that Sei accidentally walked into, he was part of the reason Sei was in pain. And at first, I felt he wasn't to blame and thought he didn't even notice. But just like with Kairo, he is aware. And he keeps doing it. He squeezed Sei's toe. He just heard the story about how it was hurt. He was looking directly at the toe. And. He. Squeezed. It. He wasn't even gentle when taking off Sei's sock.

Sei excuses the behavior and tells him it doesn't even hurt anymore, but this is the basis of their entire relationship it seems. Fujisawa does something that hurts Sei, and Sei lets it go. It's a vicious little cycle.

Once again, the show hasn't painted anyone as the villain, yet Sei has specifically stated multiple times who he thinks is a "good man," and it isn't Fujisawa.

During this scene, Hagiwara questions Sei about what Fujisawa does for him that makes Sei want to be nice back to him, and the only thing of substance Sei offers is that Fujisawa agreed to live with him.

He states Fujisawa is patient with him, but Fujisawa also demands he never meet up with his pen pal. Sei also states that Fujisawa concedes often, yet the friend they just encountered stated that if anyone wanted to speak to Sei, they had to go through Fujisawa.

It's all very normal behavior due to the circumstances. None of it seems malevolent. And yet Fujisawa wasn't interested in Sei's foot until Sei mentioned that he spoke to his co-worker who asked his girlfriend to look at his foot. Then, he squeezed the toe, which is an odd reaction. Or is it all very normal behavior due to the circumstances?

Sei doesn't have friends. He never attended the work dinners before. Yet now he is going out for dinners, has a co-worker whose girlfriend helped him, has another co-worker who is a bit afraid of him and he finds it funny, and a pen pal who has a girlfriend who he chats with through an email account that just happens to be Fujisawa's name and birthday.

Which reminds me of this co-worker and her wild story.

The woman is in a bad relationship. She is aware that she is in a bad relationship. There is an easy fix. But she doesn't leave.

Everyone, including Kairo and Fujisawa, are very aware of the situation that is unraveling in their relationships, but nobody wants to apply the easy fix. They are avoiding the issues and causing more suffering. Which is strange because Sei and Hagiwara have been shown to take responsibility and fix problems.

So why doesn't Kairo tell Hagiwara that she isn't sexually attracted to him anymore when he tries to initiate sex? Why doesn't Fujisawa tell Sei about his feelings (of jealously) instead of squeezing his toe? Because the easy fixes require communication, and they refuse to communicate, which is why this entire relationship between Hagiwara and Sei extended beyond one email.

Because it was never about the toe.

#when it rains it pours #futtara doshaburi #if someone squeezed my toe like that knowing it was injured‚ I'd kick him #but it was never about the toe #it's about the complete lack of communication #it's about avoiding the easy fix #it's about extending the suffering because they don't want to acknowledge the pain #the show might not be saying anyone is bad #but it is stating someone is good #and that's the most interesting part #because now I'm glaring at Fujisawa as he stands outside of my circle of trust #that was an odd reaction #and I think both Kaori and Fujisawa are a lot more aware then they lead on

121 notes · View notes

sulfies · 3 days ago

Text

If I Lead (pt 4)

Part 3 here

Ezio wanted a warm bath, a good wine and a soft bed… then maybe a visit from a courtesan once he was rested.

His ass was hurting from the long horseback ride from Venice to Monterriggioni but he was glad to be back home.

Things were not done with the thieves yet and Rosa still had a few more tricks she wanted to teach him, but he had to visit home every now and then to ease Claudia's worries and top up the funds the village needed.

He had found some more riches hidden around while looking for more of those discs that went into the sanctuary. So far he had two counting the one on him.

He rode his horse through the market street nodding and throwing small pleasantries to the people trying to gain his attention. It felt weird to come back sometimes and… be known by many after months of hiding in crowds, not drawing any attention.

But he did miss being able to just walk openly and not worry if the guards were going to come after him.

He looked around the buildings as he passed them by. More people were coming into the town each day and Monterrigioni was finding his footing once more. From what Claudia has yelled about to him, Mario had messed up the finances of the village in a way that should not have been possible.

Thank god one of them took their father's banker genes…

He rolled his shoulders and came closer to the stairs leading to the villa. Mercenaries were doing their regular stuff. Some in the ring that stood in the middle and some were scattered around the clearing on the upper sides.

He would check the barracks tomorrow, he had ordered it to be fixed before he left and he hoped they had actually listened to him or he was going to send their half of this month's wages into the repairs of the church.

He hopped down from his horse giving the reins to the stablehand nearby who was waiting for him.

“Welcome back, Ser Ezio, hope the road treated you well.”

He hummed in response, the road was always the same. He had to deal with some bandits but they were far enough from Monteriggioni. Still, maybe he would talk to the mercenaries later about them expanding their patrol zones. The last thing they needed was for the traders to get discouraged from coming in due to the roads.

He started climbing the stairs, the nearby soldiers said their welcome as he passed by and he waved his hand to them out of courtesy and not much else.

Bed, wine and bed… then he would act like a civilized human to the people.

He walked in through the doors of his home as Claudia was making his way down the stairs.

“It's good to see you back Ezio”

“Claudia” Ezio walked to his sister with open arms.

Claudia made a face as she was drawn into his arms “Can't you wait till you wash this disgusting smell out of you first.” yet put up no real fight to get out of the embrace.

Ezio laughed and let her go. “Shame that you would insult your dear brother, you wound me with your harsh words, Claudia.”

“Mhm, I'll take pity once you smell like a human being again. Go now, the maids have already prepared a bath for you, we will catch up after, with dinner.”

Ezio smiled and climbed the stairs with a spring in his step. He had missed home and its luxuries.

Opening the door to his room he sighed blissfully once his eyes landed on the tub. He couldn't get the armour off him faster.

Once his limbs hit the warm water his muscles melted their aches like butter. Looking at the stool nearby he saw a goblet filled with wine sitting pretty for him and his smile widened.

“It's the simple things really…”

He grabbed his cup and just sat in the tub as he sipped it, savouring every drop.

He spent longer than he usually did, the water was almost lukewarm when he decided to start washing himself fully.

What he wouldn't give for a massage right this very moment…

By the time he got out of the tub, the water was on its way to become cold. He dried himself off and put on his fresh clothes.

Also laid out on his bed for ease; he could kiss the maids.

He put on his bracers and made his way down to his sister’s office, a small chest filled with their new funds by his side.

“Do I have the permission to enter the premises, my lady?” he mocked with two taps on the doorframe, drawing Claudia's attention from the papers on her desk.

“Since I didn't smell you coming in… yes, you do.”

Ezio walked to the desk dropping the chest on it slowly, Claudia's eyes sparkled as she got up to open it up.

Eyeing the coins inside she smiled back at him.

“Good work, brother! Do you know how much is inside?”

Ezio shook his head “No, that's your job” and received a pout for his answer.

“One day your face is going to get stuck like that”

“And I'll blame you for it ’till you die.”

He drew her in for another hug, a longer one and this time Claudia was happy to return it fully.

“How is Madre…” He felt Claudia's shoulders rise in a sigh. “Same as always, but she eats and drinks. Some days I can get her to walk around the garden, which is something, but still not a word has fallen from her lips.”

Ezip nodded and planted a small kiss into his sister's hair as he let her go. “I'll go check up on her after dinner, got some more feathers for her.”

“That would be nice, somedays I find her in front of the box gazing… at least it is a reaction of some kind”

“Indeed.”

---------------------------

The dinner passed with laughter and the latest gossip from both sides, what Ezio did, how the town fared while he was gone…

“The repairs on the barracks are almost complete”

“That's good, I was thinking about getting the church fixed next.”

Claudia smiled. “Venice has changed you huh…” Ezio laughed. “It's not that. Truthfully, I could not care less about it, but since the brothel and the barracks, I fear if I don't actually fix it soon people are going to get annoyed.”

“Glad to see you use your head for once.” Ezio rolled his eyes at the comment. “But yes that would put some people at ease, maybe draw some more people in. The shops have been faring well, but there are still many empty ones.”

“The market looked pretty full to me…”

“That's because everyone knew you were on your way, some of our merchants have been sending their better wares away to bigger cities via traders.”

Ezio raised an eyebrow “You want me to do a little bit of inspection don't you…”

“Yes, go around and show yourself so they have a reason to not hide them”

She took a bite from her meal. “And maybe stay longer than a week this time hm? I know you have much to do back in Venice, but as a young woman I can only throw my weight around so much in this place Ezio”

Ezio scoffed, “You basically run this town better than I would, all the bookings are done by you.”

“I do run it better than you, I'm not saying I don't. I am saying that annoying people like the mercenaries and the merchants respond better to an authority they fear…Which would be, you.”

“So you want me on guard dog duty.”

“Yes, I'm sure Venice can handle a couple of weeks without their local vigilante.”

“Whatever you say, my liege.”

---------------------------

After dinner, Ezio visited his mother's chambers.

As Claudia had said she didn't look any better… but she didn't look any worse, either.

He walked in with soft steps and his shoulders down. She felt like a scared feral animal some days, if he moved quickly she might try to fly in fright.

She was sitting by her bedside chair facing the balcony watching the sky, hands still in a prayer.

“Madre, I'm back” He didn't really wait for a reply, used to the silence by now but it still hurt his heart.

He came close to her side and kneeled by her, placing his hand on top of hers.

“I'm not done yet in Venice… don't know when I will be but thought it was time I came back for a visit. Claudia thinks I should stay for a while.”

Smiling up at her sadly he continued “I think she is tricking me into taking a break”

He stood by her side for a while embracing the silence.

“I brought you some more feathers, Claudia let me know that sometimes you look at the box. Glad to know you enjoy them.”

He leaned down and kissed her hands, his thumb rubbed over the back of them.

“I'll bring even more the next time, hm?”

He got up and walked over to the box. Eyes still stuck on her form he placed the white feathers in it and locked the box after.

“I'll come again tomorrow, Madre…”

He walked out of the room with the same silent steps.

It hurt a lot.

Each time he went to see her he had a small hope that it would be different but he left with grief filling his heart each time.

It was weird, could you still feel grief over someone who was still alive?

If not, he didn't know what else to name the hurt he felt beneath his lungs.

He made his way to his room again, the sun had just started setting down and the weight of the road was pulling him to bed.

He walked into his room and faceplanted onto the sheets, throwing his boots to the side and unlacing his hose halfway. Too lazy to change his clothes, he was clean anyway.

Closing his eyes he welcomed the wave of sleep that washed over him….

---------------------------

When he woke up the next day the sun was up quite high, he overslept. The road had taken out of him more than he had anticipated.

Maybe Claudia was right, some downtime would do him good.

He cleaned himself up with a fresh set of clothes, putting only bracers on from his daily uniform. He would get the maids to wash that today as well, tho he knew his enjoyment of his clean capes would only last half a week.

Making his way downstairs he stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He could probably sleep a bit more if he stayed in the bed but Claudia would give him a face about it.

Stopping by her door again he knocked twice on the frame. “Buongiorno!”

Claudia looked up to him, her desk had some coins lying around it and the chest he brought yesterday was open on her side.

“It's almost mid-day… but good morning to you too”

Ezio smiled fondly “So, did I bring enough back or do I need to make another trip…”

“I haven't been able to go through all of it but… Yes, we will be cushioned for a while.”

She looked back at her pages to check the numbers.

“There will be a lot of leftovers even after the repairs which is a nice safety net.”

“Good to hear.” Ezio watched his sister focus back on her work again and took it as a cue for him to get going.

“I am going to go down and see how the barracks are coming along. Then maybe visit the blacksmith. Lost some daggers here and there that I want to replace.”

Claudia just hummed in response and waved her quill without lifting his eyes away from her desk.

---------------------------

Once out of the Villa, Ezio gazed down at the town. Feeling the sun hit his face was a rare luxury he got to enjoy only here.

At the top of the stairs, he just watched the people go about their day for a bit. Things were coming along, he noticed yesterday but now with his full attention, he realized Claudia had repaired some more buildings outside of the main street. Some houses were still getting work done with workers outside.

He noticed some more ropes going in between the buildings as well. He chuckled, that was nice of her to do…

He made his way down into the street, nodding at the pleasantries people threw his way, stopping now and then to hear people's troubles.

They were mostly crying about leaking roofs and general upkeep troubles.

He took the street that led to the barracks.

The renovation was still going on but from what he could see they were almost done with maybe a month or so of work left to do.

He walked into the building, most of the chatter stopped for a beat and then continued but he could feel the side glances coming his way.

He paid no mind and went further in, towards the back room. He could hear Mario’s voice boom even through the closed doors.

So that's where his uncle was… with each step the mumblings of Mario’s voice got more clear.

“...I said I would try to talk about a raise but don't push my hand Marsillio. You and I both know I take the defence of this place very se-”

“What's this talk about a raise?”

Mario turned around to face Ezio standing by the open door.

“Ezio! How swell is it to see you” His frown chanced the moment his eyes landed on his nephew.

Approaching him, Mario clasped his forearm in a greeting and patted his back strongly. A big smile was plastered on his face. “I missed you coming back yesterday.”

“Don't worry about it Zio, I went to bed pretty early.” He nodded back in sympathy then looked back at the other person. “Now, what were you guys just talking about?” He tried to keep his tone even.

“Nothing for you to worry about yet, Nipote.” Ezio raised an eyebrow and kept looking at the other mercenary who was doing his best to not avert his eyes.

“We…were just talking to Ser Mario about additional budgeting for the upkeep of our weapons.”

Ah… still after their old payout before he got his hands on the ledger and let his sister make some cuts.

“Why? Don't your men know how to polish their own swords?”

Marsillio smiled sheepishly “They do but you can only polish a dull sword so many times before It will break, sir.”

“Well, are any of them broken?”

“No… not yet but would you rather them break in the heat of the battle and leave our men defenseless?”

Ezio put a hand on his hip. “If Monteriggioni ever has to go into battle, I assure you no funds will be spared for its aid.”

Before the other could get a word in he continued. “I have already factored in the upkeep of your armoury into the budget you were dealt for this year. You will make do with what you are given till I see a reason to allocate more with my own eyes.”

Marsilio looked like he was trying very hard to keep his face straight, Ezio found it quite funny. Answering to a younger man, when you used to be able to get what you wanted with ease would put a chip on any man's shoulder.

He crossed his arms with a smug look he couldn't hide “Well, now that we all have agreed on the budget problem… I had actually come here for a different reason.”

Mario looked at him with slight worry, Ezio shot him a smile to calm his nerves “Nothing pressing or such but I’d like the outside patrols to expand their search area.”

“We already cover plenty of grounds, Ser Ezio. My men have yet to find even tracks of passing bandits.” Marsillio retaliated.

“Then they won't mind having to go a bit further on their search to keep the good people of our town safe, hm?”

He stared at him for a while, seeing the other man's conviction crumble by the second, he clearly wanted to argue against it.

“As.. as you wish sir.”

Really, this was starting to bore him.

Paying these guys for them to complain like young maidens who didn't get enough pocket money for their dresses… but Monteriggioni needed its defences and this was the best they got thanks to Mario, bless his heart.

“That's good to hear, I'm sure the citizens of Monteriggioni will be thankful for your services.” He turned his attention to Mario “It is lovely to see you again Uncle Mario, I’ll try to visit your office later today.”

Mario gave him his signature grin and clasped his shoulder, shaking him with it. “Yes of course! I wanted to hear about your latest doings anyway.”

Ezio gave a nod and left the room. Feeling the pointed stares of others behind his back as he crossed the main room. He knew the mercenaries were not too happy to see him back.

No one would be happy to see their boss back.

He stepped outside of the building, letting himself breathe a bit. He rolled his shoulders to ease his tension… this was such a chore but Claudia was right, these types of men only responded to an authority they feared.

“Once again hiding to the side Domenico? You have been at these swords for three days now…”

A man talked out of the corner of his eye. He was leaning over against the railing that surraunded the Stable. The mention of swords caught his attention.

“Come on, take a break and join me for at least a cup.”

Another man, older than the one who just talked, was inside the open area of the stable with a pile of swords next to him. Sharpening the one in his hand on the whetstone on his lap.

“I told you, I don't like drinking during the day…” “Then come play dice!”

The man sighed. “Don't sigh at me, I am your senior and I order you to come inside. I have yet to see you rest after today's rounds.”

“Angelo, I am resting. See, this is me sitting… which means I am resting”

The older man raised his head to give a look of disappointment to Angelo when his eyes met with Ezio for a second then quickly went back to the other man.

“Yea sure, and laying with your wife is called falling asleep”

“Angelo!”

The man raised his arms in a sheepish defence “I'm joking, I'm joking...” With an impatient huff, he pointed his fingers at Domenico. “Don’t look at me like that, I'll leave you to your rest, but you are ordered to come to the tavern with us tonight. No excuses!”

Ezio chuckled to himself quietly and started walking towards the market, leaving the two men to their bickering. Unlike what Marsilio said, the swords looked fine after all.

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #ezio auditore #if i lead #ezides #WAIT BEFORE GETTİNG MAD AT ME FOR CUCKING I SWEAR #THEY WILL MEET ACTUALLY NEXT CHAPTER #I SWEAAARRR #I will post to ao3 once my lovely beta reader whips this work into a shape

63 notes · View notes

deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 2 days ago

Text

Cold Rain

Swamped with school work and pain, sorry for the lack of updates.

Summary: It's raining outside so you and Bucky snuggle in bed.

You really don't like the rain.

It causes the floor to feel like ice, your skin prickling from the chill that sets into your house, and not to mention the howling winds out there make the night seem alive. Your hair stands on end, trying its best to protect you from the cold but it's not enough. You suppose it's partly due to your inability to tolerate the cold for some reason, a mystery you have yet to solve, but that has led to some funny incidents like the time you wore a hoodie out in the hot humid sun because you'd forgotten to take it off, causing Bucky to fret about heatstroke.

"Doll?" Said person appears in the doorway, holding two cups of steaming hot chocolate, the sweet scent wafting through the room. "Would you like one?"

"If I said no? What are you going to do with that other cup?" You peek out from beneath the pile of blankets.

"Drink it, obviously." He smiles, walking over to you and sits on the bed. "I suppose I get to drink both?"

You pout at him, reaching out with a hand and he chuckles, setting both cups on the bedside table. He gently tugs the blanket downwards and props your pillow up, causing you to slide off said pillow and pout further.

"I'm not risking you spilling any hot chocolate on the sheets, doll. Sit up or you're not getting any." He chides you, flicking your forehead with a look of amusement on his face. You huff, annoyed, but sit up anyways, clutching the blanket tightly. Bucky tucks himself in too before retrieving the cups, handing one to you, his hand lingering on yours.

"Wait. Let me sit on the other side." Bucky shifts, taking care to purposely hit you in the leg as he crosses over. You hit him back in the leg once he's settled on your left and he smirks, pressing his cold toes on your bare skin.

"Buck!" You shriek, causing him to burst out laughing. His retribution comes swiftly when you press your own cold toes against his bare skin, causing him to yelp in surprise. You grin, revenge gotten and begin to drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold. Bucky, the ever drama queen, scowls and sinks beneath the blanket, taking care to set his cup of hot chocolate down on the table before doing so.

He presses against you, resting his head on your stomach and you chuckle, knowing exactly what he wants you to do.

"You can always just ask, you know?" You run your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

"But then we wouldn't have the telepathic connection couples have." He pouts, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes you've learnt to become immune to.

"I'm pretty sure we'd have the telepathic connection even if you asked," you snort, rolling your eyes.

"It wouldn't be the same," he huffs, rolling over to bury his face into your shirt. You're warm, and he likes the smell of your detergent.

"I think otherwise." You continue stroking his hair, smiling softly when you know he can't see it. He hums in response, curling up against you. It's days like these where you fully appreciate the fact that Bucky is just like a personal heater, the amount of body heat he emits has never bothered you, even on a hot day, but sometimes it can get a little too much, not that you've ever told him that. You like it when he cuddles with you, his vulnerable side on full display only for you. It makes your heart flutter, knowing that he trusts you with everything and you don't want him to stop.

Having finished your hot chocolate, you slide downwards, finally allowed to lie down on your bed. He grunts, feeling you shift underneath him and moves into a more comfortable position, taking care not to let his metal arm touch you. He knows how vulnerable you are to the cold, and likes being able to keep you warm. His heart soars whenever you tell him how much he's done for you, albeit in a drunk state but he'll take whatever praise he can when you rarely dish them out.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to the other source of warmth in the room and press a kiss to the top of his head, making him smile. You drive away all forms of chill, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth, forming a protective barrier that keeps the memories of Hydra out of his head, even if it's just for that short while.

"You're so warm," he murmurs, closing his eyes. "Everyone else is so cold."

You blink, then your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Buck? Is it that group of agents again? Do I need to beat them up or would throwing them out of the twentieth storey be better?"

"Doubt you could throw them any further than an inch, doll." His lips quirk up, one ice blue eye cracking open.

"I'll find a way to throw them out of the window," you growl.

"Fury will be pissed at you."

"Let him. Nothing's going to stand in my way of beating up people who talk behind my sugar plum's back.," you growl.

"Your sugar plum," he chuckles. "Never dropping that pet name, are you?"

"James, I'm serious. Do I need to do something about that group of agents?" You give his cheek a poke, ignoring his attempt to change the subject. "Because I really will throw them out of the twentieth storey window if I have to."

"Please don't do something that drastic. You already got into so much trouble when you beat them up." He pushes himself up so that he can press a kiss to your cheek. "I don't want you to get into more trouble because of me."

"You know that I'll do anything for you."

"I know, doll, and I'm grateful for that. But I'd still rather you not get into trouble if you don't have to." He nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "I don't like seeing you in trouble."

"Then next time I'll just not get caught."

"Doll!" He huffs, exasperated and amused. He pulls back, ice blue eyes clouding with sorrow. "I mean it. You shouldn't go too far for me, I'm not worth that much."

Your heart breaks at the sad smile he gives you and suddenly there's an urge to punt everyone who's ever hurt him out of the twentieth storey window, even if they're nothing but corpses now. You'll punt their corpses, bones, whatever is left of them.

"Yeah, that's because you're worth more than that. You're worth more than I can ever give you but that won't stop me from trying." You wonder if you can get your hands on his former handlers and beat them until their skulls cave in, get your hands on the scientists who experimented on him and shove their syringes up their asses, get your hands on the higher ups and watch as they choke to death on paper.

His bottom lip trembles, gaze dropping to stare at the spot of bed between the two of you and you catch a glimpse of tears rolling down his cheeks. You reach out hesitantly, wondering if it's alright for you to hold him when he leans in, pressing against you and sobs, his tears staining your shirt. You take that as your cue to wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly as he cries, your own heart aching with each wail that spill from his lips.

He clutches at you, desperately burrowing into your warmth as you run your fingers through his hair, giving him all the time he needs to let everything out.

"I've got you," you murmur. "I've got you."

He doesn't let go, not even after his cries have dwindled to the occasional sob. He continues to soak in your embrace, trying his hardest not to let you see his tear-stained face and puffy eyes but he can't help but look up at you, desperate to know if there's a look of disgust on your face you're disguising with your actions, if you want no more weakness out of him.

All he sees is the infinite, boundless and unconditional love you have for him.

He presses his face back into your chest, swallowing the lump in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. He's safe, free from the tendrils of Hydra, free from the freezing snow that chilled him to the bone, free from the cryostasis whose icy touch still haunts him to this day. Even if the nightmares try to convince him otherwise, he knows that when he wakes up, if you're lying there next to him, the cold will never touch him.

The love you have for him wreathes him in a warmth like no other. It's not the same kind of warmth that fire or heaters provide, it feels different in a way he can't quite describe. It's both gentle and ferocious, it curls around him protectively like a shield but is a sword that cuts through all who try to hurt him. You're his special personal heater, providing a different kind of warmth from the one he provides.

You don't stop your ministrations, the rhythmic pattern lulling what remains of his defenses to sleep. You're the only one who can lay him bare like this, the only one he willingly shows his scars to because you're the only one he trusts to this extent.

The rain patters on outside, the wind whistling as it ushers the cold into your room and you press closer against Bucky, tugging the blanket around the both of you tightly. Bucky shifts, letting out a breath and presses a kiss to your collarbone.

"You're so warm." The words slip out before he can stop them and he blushes, the tips of his ears turning red.

"You're warm too," you chuckle, playing with his soft brown locks. "My warm safe haven."

Safe? Haven? Him?

"I'm not a safe haven," he mumbles, face still pressed against your shoulder.

"Says my devoted protector." You flick him in the head. "I distinctly recall a certain someone chiding me over and over again that the only reason I'm still alive is because of you?"

"I'm also the reason you're being targeted," he mumbles sadly. "Being with me makes you a target too, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"Well, good thing I have you as my knight in shining armour then." You smile softly, slipping a hand into his metal hand. "There's no one else I'd rather have."

Bucky's eyes widen but his metal hand gently curls around your flesh hand, fingers intertwined with yours. He looks up at you, searching for permission to close the distance and you give him a small nod. His eyes light up as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. He kisses you like there's no tomorrow, like you're about to disappear at any moment, and his love crashes into you — wild, fierce, endless.

Maybe the rain isn't so bad after all.

#marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu bucky #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #bucky fluff #slight angst but mostly fluff #bucky cuddles

71 notes · View notes

evamame · 3 days ago

Note

could you perhaps do something with boyfriend Argentina Tooru Oikawa and reader? can you make it where reader is in university as well? thanks!

yess i can. i kinda got lost in thought writing this so this is what my brain came up with ig. hope you like it nonetheless!!

making up for lost time with oikawa tooru

synopsis: on a small romantic date with oikawa tooru, a rare occasion where you can relax and make up lost time together due to both of your busy schedules.

cw: sfw, fluff, post time skip!oikawa x university!reader, fem!reader, you’re a busy uni student, pet names, established relationship

word count: 1,495

masterlist

you’re sitting on your bed in your dorm, scrolling on your phone as you wait for oikawa to arrive. just then, you hear a knock on the door.

you open it to see oikawa in front of you, grinning lovingly with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. “hello beautiful,” he says in greeting before placing a kiss to your cheek. you step to the side to let him in, and he closes the door behind him as he enters.

you take the bouquet from him, your hands brushing against each other. you pull it close to your chest, inhaling the flowery scent you always adore. “thank you, these are gorgeous,” you say as you look at him with a soft smile on your face, and he gives you one of his own in return.

“you’re welcome baby. you ready?”

“i’m ready. give me a second,” you reply, taking a few steps over to your bedside table on the other side of your incredibly small dorm room. you grab the scissors on your desk and snip the ribbon holding the stems together, then put the flowers in an empty vase already filled with water.

you grab your bag hooked onto your bed frame, then go back to oikawa’s side, holding out your hand for him to take, “let’s go.”

he gladly takes your hand into his, intertwining your fingers with a gentle but firm grip. he opens the door and leads you down the hall and out of your dorm complex.

it isn’t often that you two have time to go out on a small date like this. ever since you two came to argentina for him to play volleyball professionally, his schedule is jam packed with training. he’s in the gym almost every single day from morning to evening. and as for you, you’re handling the responsibilities of a typical university student. taking classes during the day, and then going home to spend hours on homework and assignments.

you try your best to find a middle ground, but it doesn’t work a lot of the times. you’re always grateful to have more than a few hours to spend with him. the busy schedule wasn’t something either of you wanted, but eventually it happened and there isn’t much either of you can do. but you’re both chasing your dreams, so it’ll all be worth it in the end.

you walk through campus, looking around at the scenery and listening to oikawa ramble about his practices and anything else that’s been going on in his life since you two last got to meet in person. you two aren’t able to avoid stares, though, since oikawa’s face has been plastered on headlines since the team started tournament season once again.

as he finishes his long speech, he turns to you, “how about you? how’s university going?”

“it’s good. the same classes as usual, and the same load of homework.”

he nods understandingly, a soft smile and a loving look in his eyes as he listens to you speak, “i expected you to say that.” as you continue walking, his thumb runs mindlessly over your knuckles.

you eventually reach your destination, a small, locally owned argentinian style coffee shop on the outskirts of campus. oikawa rushes in front of you to open the door for you, letting you go in before following behind you. you both place your orders at the counter, not without oikawa and you getting a surprised look of recognition from the barista, before taking a seat in the corner.

he places his hand on top of yours on the table, a lovey grin plastered across his face. “what’s the grin for?” you question.

“nothing. i’m just really happy to see you again.”

you smile, a light flush of pink forming on your cheeks, “me too. it’s been so long. i wish our schedules would work at least a little bit better.”

he nods in agreement, “yeah, it really sucks. as much as i love volleyball, i am a bit excited for it to be over so i can spend more time with you.”

“after i graduate i’ll finally be free from writing papers until midnight. and then i’ll have a more flexible schedule.”

a knowing smile forms on his lips, “yeah, that would be nice.”

the order number for your food and drinks are called, and oikawa pushes his chair back with a small scrape to stand up. he walks up to the pick up end of the counter, taking the tray to the table. he places your drink and pastry down for you, before helping himself.

you take a sip of your beverage as oikawa takes a bite of his cake, and his eyes widen instantly as he takes in the flavor. he quickly takes another spoonful and puts it infront of your mouth, “try this. it’s really good.”

you scoff in amusement at his attempt to feed you, “you’re such a cheesy romantic. i can feed myself, you know.”

he grins playfully, “my cheesy romance is how i show my love. just try it.”

you try the cake, and your eyes widen just like his did as you swallow, “it is really good.” you then offer him a bite of your pastry, and as he tries yours with a pleased reaction you give each other knowing looks.

“trade?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“yes,” you say as you two slide your plates across the table to each other.

after chatting for a long while, you’ve both finished your food and drinks. oikawa places your empty dishes on the tray and carries them to the drop them off at the end of the counter. as he returns, you stand up and hook your bag on your shoulder, then leave the café with him.

he holds the door for you again as you exit, and then rushes to catch up with you. he laces your fingers together, and you two look around at the scenery. the streets in argentina are bright and lively, a change from the view back home. the culture is a bit different, but you’ve both gotten used to the new lifestyle by now.

you two make your way back to your dorm room, exchanging easy conversation. talking with oikawa is second nature. it’s not something you’ve ever had to put any thought into, although that’s expected with his extroverted and flirty nature.

you two walk up the stairwell in your dormitory when oikawa lets out a tired remark, “why are there so many stairs? you couldn’t have picked a room on a lower level?” his voice feigns dramatic exhaustion as he speaks.

you scoff, “there are only three levels, for one. and for two, i thought you were a world famous athlete.”

“that’s not important,” he replies with a tired pant, smiling playfully.

you reach your floor, and take out your keys to unlock the front door of your dorm room with a click. the door peers wide open and you sling your bag over your bed frame before taking off your shoes. oikawa follows suit, quickly taking off his own shoes and flopping onto your bed on his back with a sigh.

“make your self at home, i guess,” you say with a jokingly annoyed sigh.

a small smile tugs at his lips, ignoring the teasing tone in your words, “thanks. i will. your bed is so much more comfortable than mine.” he takes one of your throw pillows, propping it under his head.

you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at him with an amused smile, “what are you so tired for?”

“nothing. i just feel relaxed.”

“relaxed?”

he nods, “yeah. we never get to have alone time like this. it’s calming.”

you frown a little at his comment. it’s true, how overbearing your schedules are. you wish this type of intimate time was something the two of you could enjoy more often.

you decide not to dwell on it though, replying with a soft smile, “that’s true. let’s enjoy it while it lasts.”

and with that, oikawa scoots to lay on one side of the bed, patting the space next to him. you move to rest next to him, and he quickly wraps his arms around you to pull you against his chest. he envelopes you from behind in a warm embrace, his face buried into your shoulder. he tilts his head to breathe in the scent of your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips. the familiar smell of his cologne and shampoo fills your senses and brings a feeling of serenity.

“would i be right to guess you’re going to spend the night again?”

“can i?” he questions, and you can feel him smiling against your neck as his breath tickles your skin.

“of course you can. i said we should make the most of our time, didn’t i?”

“then i’ll be here by your side as long as i can.”

like what you read and want to read more? here’s my taglist

tags: @scoupsworld