#say one word and I will turn into a human faucet. you wish you were me

[paracosim]

Literally everyone when I was pre-T: going on testosterone will make you physically unable to cry, and your emotions will be flat and dull

Me, two years on T and outright bawling as I finish the intro to the new Zelda game, followed by more sobbing while listening to a new song released by my favorite band:

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Two: Electric Boogaloo

Day 15: Hot Water (Shower Sex)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Spy x Fem!Reader

Summary: The result of a promise I made to someone to write Spy shower sex

Tags: Shower sex, dirty talk, praise

Word Count: 2.3k

The Masterlist

You turned the metal handle, gasping at the sudden spray of frigid cold you received before the water finally started to warm up. With a few further temperature adjustments you were able to let the heat relax your muscles, still tense from a long day of work. You always felt better after a nice hot shower though, no matter how difficult your day was.

When you had first joined up with the team you were initially appalled at the idea of communal showers, in particular, the idea of sharing said showers with nine men. However, you got used to it far sooner than you expected. Staying up a bit later kept you from encountering any awkward situations with the others. Plus, it allowed for secret rendezvous with one mercenary in particular, one who you didn’t mind sharing a shower with, among other things. Speak of the devil…

You jumped when you felt arms wrapping around you from behind, the sensation of skin on skin flush against your back. The sound of Spy decloaking alerted you to his presence, putting you at ease. You had been expecting him tonight, of course. Even so, the feeling of an invisible force touching you was universally startling, and something you were sure you would never get used to.

“I wish you would remember to decloak before approaching me from behind,” you said, glancing back to look at your partner. He was already undressed, his suit jacket and mask most likely sitting neatly folded on the locker room bench just outside the showers. Spy’s eyes were closed as he let the water cascade over him, relishing the heat just as you were earlier. The softened expression on his face was one you rarely saw outside of these little trysts. It made you feel special to see him so relaxed, almost vulnerable.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day, chérie.” He whispered, voice low and seductive. His hands slid smoothly over your wet skin, warming you up even more. You let him descend over your waist, down to your hips and thighs, and then back up again. It was as if he was trying to memorize every edge and curve on your body through touch alone.

You squeezed your thighs together, embarrassed at how easily he was able to arouse you. He took his time, lingering on every erogenous zone he knew of on the human body, and then paying special attention to those that he knew were specific to you. He had spent plenty of time mapping out the places that made you feel good, where a simple, gentle touch could have you squirming with need.

With a shaky breath, you turned to face him, pulling him down into a kiss, the two of you quickly becoming entwined with each other. Spy quickly took the lead, making the first move to deepen the kiss as he slid his tongue over your lips, a silent request for entrance which you eagerly obliged, opening your mouth with a soft gasp. Kissing Spy was never a simple dalliance of lips and tongue. No, he always kissed as if he was savoring you, treating you delicately, like a fine wine. Appraising, cherishing, and taking pleasure in every little taste, slow and discerning with his movements. His hands would continue to roam your body, trying to make you moan into his mouth. It made you never want to pull away, but of course, you had to eventually. You parted with a gasp, taking in fresh air.

“God, I need you,” you said, reaching towards the shower faucet handle. “Just let me get dried off real quick. We can go back to your room-”

Spy stopped you, cutting your words off with another kiss. He took your hand gently, moving it away from the handle and pulling you towards him. “Non, I don’t think I can wait until we get back to my room, ma chérie.” He sounded so eager, so full of desire for you. You wanted to hear him say more, just so that you could listen to that lustful voice for longer. His hand drifted between your legs and you shuddered when you felt his fingers running over your slit. “I can take you right here.”

Somehow, a touch of reality managed to reach you through your arousal. “We could be caught,” you warned. These were communal showers, after all.

“Darling, I am quite adept at making my way around unseen. Do you really think I would allow someone to catch us?” Spy was known to value privacy. It made sense that he wouldn’t take such a risk unless he was sure he could avoid any unwanted guests. That alone was reassuring enough to ease your concerns. “Now, let me take care of you.”

His hands dropped to your hips, massaging them with a firm grip. You gave into temptation with another heated kiss, and you could feel him smirking against your lips just before you parted. You backed away for a moment, turning around to lean against the tiled wall and presenting yourself with a smirk and a glance backwards. “Is this alright? I feel better having something solid to brace myself against,” you said, nodding towards the wall. It would make things much easier, especially given how slick the wet floors could be.

“Whatever you wish, darling,” Spy said. You smiled, turning your gaze forward. A shudder ran through your body when you felt him press two fingers into you, thrusting gently, working you up until you were wet enough to take his cock. You couldn’t stifle the small gasps and moans you made as he fingered you, curling his digits just enough to tease your sweet spot. When you began to rock back against his fingers he withdrew, and you whined, only to quickly fall silent when you felt his cock pressing against you. Still, he teased you, rubbing the length of himself over your entrance and chuckling at the way you quivered.

“Spy, please,” you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the sound of the still running water hitting the tile floor.

“Easy now, mon ange,” Spy said, shushing you. “I’m just making sure you’re thoroughly prepared.” With that bit of emphasis, he entered you, hilting in one quick thrust. You yelped in surprise, not expecting him to start so quickly, although his pace did slow the moment he began moving. Those steady, measured thrusts still managed to hit hard in all the right spots, making you whine and moan for more.

Your hand found its way between your legs, rubbing gentle circles around your clit. With a soft gasp, your eyes rolled back and you started to rub faster. The pleasure coupled with Spy’s cock being buried deep within you was dizzying. You couldn’t get enough.

“Darling, let me see your hands,” Spy said. He had stopped moving, much to your dismay. Any attempt to thrust back against him were met with further withdrawal. “I don’t want you to finish so soon. Won’t you be good for me and do as I say?”

Reluctantly, you placed both your hands on the tile in front of you. The low whine you made when you lost that sweet stimulation did not go unnoticed, but Spy didn’t let it dissuade him. He wasted no time pinning your hands to the tile on either side of your head, gripping your wrists tightly.

“I want all of your pleasure to come from me,” he whispered, his voice low and commanding in your ear. “Understand, ma chérie?”

“Spy,” you murmured, his name being all you were able to muster up the ability to say. Perhaps it was an acknowledgement of his words, or perhaps it was a plea. Whatever it was, it was enough to make Spy’s expression soften. His grip on your wrists loosened ever so slightly.

“I promised I would take care of you, and you trust me to keep my word, don’t you?” he asked, pressing his body flush against yours, letting you be comforted by the sensation of skin on skin, so warm and wet.

“Of course I do,” you sighed, leaning heavily against the shower wall.

Spy pressed gentle kisses to the back of your neck, trailing up to your cheek as he whispered in your ear. “I’ll let you come, in due time. Just relax and let me do all the work for now, my love.”

You found it rather difficult to relax when Spy let go of your wrists and reached around to feel up your body, making his way slowly up to your chest. You gasped when he caressed the soft flesh roughly and nearly squealed when he rolled a nipple between his fingers. Spy seemed to enjoy the way you were squirming against him, letting out soft moans as he played with those sensitive areas.

“You’re always so responsive,” he mused. “I wonder what other delightful little noises you have in store for me.”

His hands began to trail lower once again, and you shuddered as he ran his palms down your abdomen, soon passing over your hips. He rubbed slow circles over them before reaching tantalizingly close to your clit, his fingers mere inches away, only to come back up and squeeze your breasts roughly, earning a high pitched gasp from you.

“Watch your volume, ma chérie. As nice as it is to hear you scream, these showers aren’t exactly soundproof”

“I thought you were ‘adept at being unseen,’” you retorted, doing a poor mimicry of Spy’s accent as you repeated his own words back at him. The laughter you got in response only served to frustrate you more.

“Unseen, but not always unheard,” he said before delivering an especially hard thrust, making you inhale sharply. “In fact, I believe I am quite the master at drawing desperate sounds from you.” You felt him run his palms down your back. He admired the way the water cascaded over your curves and the way your body glistened beneath his hands. “Truth be told, while I loathe to imagine anyone stumbling upon your naked form as I make love to you, the idea of the others overhearing your moans, screaming my name, letting them know that you belong to me, is quite tantalizing. So on second thought, make as much noise as you want.”

Instead you immediately tried to quiet yourself, perhaps in an act of petty defiance, but it was no use. Spy seemed to locate all your most sensitive areas with ease, pinching, caressing, and thrusting harder into you, pressing you against the tile of the shower with your hands still planted firmly next to your head. The convergence of so many pleasurable sensations had your head spinning. It wasn’t long before you felt the pleasure start to build.

You clenched around Spy involuntarily as you felt your orgasm fast approaching, listening to the way he moaned at the tightening of your body. “Mon Dieu, you feel so good,” he groaned. You began to buck back to meet his thrusts, nearly slipping at one point, only being saved by Spy wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady. “You’re close, aren’t you? Merde, I am too. Go on, touch yourself, ma chérie. I want you to come for me.”

Spy sounded almost desperate, as if he was begging. It took you a moment to even process what he said, but the moment you did your hand was between your legs, fingers rubbing frantic circles over your clit as he thrust against your sweet spot over and over, determined to bring you to orgasm before he reached his own. Your moans peaked in volume and your body trembled around him as the pleasure finally overwhelmed you. Spy held you firmly by the waist as you rode out the end, keeping you from slipping while in the throes of ecstasy. The last thing either of you wanted was to explain to Medic how you had injured yourself after being ravished in the communal showers.

Spy reached his own climax soon after you, leaning against you so that his lips were right beside your ear. He tried to be more reserved, but you could hear every soft groan he made as he came, his body trembling against yours. You leaned heavily on the wall in front of you, legs shaky and threatening to buckle beneath you at any moment. Having sex while standing turned out to be far more of a workout than you anticipated, especially once the adrenaline began to fade.

Luckily, Spy, being ever vigilant, noticed your waning strength once the aftershocks began to reach their end. He quickly withdrew, reaching forward to shut the water off. You let yourself slump against the wall, not even noticing that Spy had left until he returned just moments later with a towel to wrap around your shaking body, taking you up in his arms just as your legs were about to give out.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered as he cradled you in his arms, “Ma belle chérie.”

He set you down on the locker room bench, letting you get your bearings before beginning to dry yourself off. Your whole body was flushed, either from exertion or from the heat and steam of the shower. You were breathless. Spy was in a similar state, although he was regaining his composure far quicker. Even so, anyone who walked in now would probably be able to deduce what had just occurred. But you found that you didn’t care anymore. Let them know. Let them know that you belonged to Spy.

“You’re so red, darling.” His hand cupped your cheek, feeling the heat radiating off of your skin as you leaned into his palm. “And I believe there may be some bruises on your hips here.” He motioned to where he had latched onto you, either to keep you from falling or to simply exercise his control. “When you’re dried off I’ll take you back to my room, make sure you’re comfortable, and we can spend the night together. Would you like that?”

“I would like that very much,” you sighed, eyes already drifting shut as you let Spy take over the duty of toweling you off before carrying you back to his quarters.

[ay-chuu]

Which Melanie Martinez song lycris is for Obey me boys!

-Only for 'Cry Baby' album.-

Warning!: Spoilers about lesson 16!

Lucifer: Dollhouse.

This song is about how a family is not perfect as it seems on the outside, but they still pretend to be perfect to protect their pride. And Lucifer is uncomfortable with his own brothers showing their true selves in public. This song fits Lucifer very well.

"Places, places, get in your places

Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces

Everyone thinks that we're perfect

Please don't let them look through the curtains"

"Picture, picture, smile for the picture

Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?

Everyone thinks that we're perfect

Please don't let them look through the curtains"

Mammon: Training Wheels.

This song is about Mammon and the MC! The song is about two people in love who want to get their training wheels off so they can be free while they're in love! Mammon doesn't care about the fact that the MC is a human and he is a Devil, he wants to be free no matter what in their love. UwU 🧡

"Love everything you do

When you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do

I wanna ride my bike with you

Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you

I'll pull them off for you"

"Riding down, riding down

My hand on your seat

The whole way round

I carry band-aids on me now

For when your soft hands hit the jagged ground

Wheels aren't even touching the ground

Scared to take them off but they're so worn down

Promise I won't push you straight to the dirt

If you promise me you'll take them off first"

Levi: Soap.

This song is about regret after confessing feelings. Levi does not want to express his feelings because he is afraid that you will reject he and he will regret it. Protect this sweet otaku 🥺🧡

"I'm tired of being careful, gentle, trying to keep the water warm

Let me under your skin

Uh-oh, there it goes, I said too much, it overflowed

Why do I always spill?"

"I feel it coming out my throat

Guess I better wash my mouth out with soap

God, I wish I never spoke

Now I gotta wash my mouth out with soap"

Satan: Alphabet Boy.

This song is about elder and experienced people being egoistic, we all know that's the issue between Satan and Lucifer lmao. Satan has always hated Lucifer's ego and was mad at being compared to him.

"Apples aren't an always appropriate apologies

Butterscotch and bubblegum drops are bittersweet to me

You call me a child while you keep counting all your coins

But you're not my daddy and I'm not your dolly

And your dictionary's destroyed"

"I know my ABC's, yet you keep teaching me

I say, fuck your degree, alphabet boy

You think you're smarter than me with all your bad poetry

Fuck all your ABC's, alphabet boy"

Asmodeus: Mrs. Patato Head

The song is about getting plastic surgery to be even more beautiful and loved. We all know deep down that Asmo wants to be loved even more and he is insecure about it.

"Kids forever, kids forever

Baby soft skin turns into leather

Don't be dramatic it's only some plastic

No one will love you if you're unattractive"

"Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me

Is it true that pain is beauty?

Does a new face come with a warranty?

Will a pretty face make it better?

Oh Mr. Potato Head tell me

How did you afford her surgery?"

Do you swear you'll stay forever

Even if her face don't stay together

Even if her face don't stay together

Beel: Teddy Bear.

The song is about betrayal of someone's love, who is loving and bonding with that person who betrays them.

A little change the subject, Belphie didn't betray Beel, but betrayed the MC's help and killed they. Beel was very upset with Belphie when he did this.

"I threw you out, I didn't outgrow you

I just didn't know you

But now you're back

And it's so terrifying how you paralyze me

Now you're showing up inside my home

Breathing deep into the phone

I'm so unprepared, I'm fucking scared"

"Teddy bear, you were my teddy bear

You were comforting and quiet

How did love become so violent?

Oh, teddy bear, you were my teddy bear

Everything was so sweet until you tried to kill me"

Belphie: Cake.

The song is about a person using their lover. Belphie is afraid someone will use her. And once he gets attached to someone, he can't stand the pain of losing them. That's why it's hard for him to get attached to someone because he doesn't want to be used or lose them.

"I'm not a piece of cake for you to just discard

While you walk away with the frosting of my heart

So I'm taking back what's mine, you'll miss

The slice of heaven that I gave to you last night"

"Your skin is warm like an oven,

Your kiss is sugary sweet

Your fingers feel like cotton when you put your arms around me

I feel like I'm just missing something whenever you leave

You've got all the ingredients

Except you loving me

And respectfully"

Diavolo: Mad Hatter.

The song is about crazy people being ostracized and judged from normal people. Diavolo was always too crazy for a prince and was always judged on the matter, the decisions he made, the way he behaved, etc. but even though he didn't care about it, he was upset about it.

"I'm nuts, baby, I'm mad,

The craziest friend that you've ever had

You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone

Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong

Over the bend, entirely bonkers

You like me best when I'm off my rocker

Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed

So what if I'm crazy? The best people are"

"You think I'm crazy, you think I'm gone

So what if I'm crazy? All the best people are

And I think you're crazy too, I know you're gone

That's probably the reason that we get along"

Barbatos: : I couldn't find it for him.

Simeon: I couldn't find it for him.

Solomon: Pacify her.

Solomon was always jealous of the MC being around brothers and he wanted them, but he couldn't do anything about it. and the song describes how a person wants the person they likes to pacify them from their lover.

"Pacify her

She's getting on my nerves

You don't love her

Stop lying with those words"

"I can't stand her whining

Where's her binky now?

And loving her seems tiring

So boy, just love me, down, down, down"

Luke: Cry Baby.

Luke has always been the subject of ridicule. This didn't make him stand in the countryside and he continued to act the way he was, and although he says he doesn't care about the thoughts of demons, he does. The song is about a person who is teased for crying a lot and still continues to cry.

"They call you cry baby, cry baby

But you don't fucking care

Cry baby, cry baby

So you laugh through your tears"

"I look at you and I see myself

And I know you better

Than anyone else

And I have the same faucet in my eyes

So your tears are mine"

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Two

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

content warnings: secondhand embarrassment, i dont know how skiing works, poor editing, NSFW 🔥

***

To Nesta’s horror, Cassian was serious when he said he’d teach her how to ski. Nevermind the fact that it’s his birthday, and they should be having a lazy morning together filled with cuddles and breakfast in bed. Instead, they’ve been up since six in the morning without food or drink, just to shuffle around in the snow while Cassian repeats the same instructions over and over. By late morning, the rest of their group has gotten up and joined them at the beginner’s trail to be firsthand witnesses to Nesta’s humiliation.

She stares down at the blinding white slope before her and inhales a breath of frigid mountain air, trying to steel her nerves before she has to push off the ground and take flight.

Cassian sees her hesitation and sighs. “Come on, Nesta,” he urges. “It’s thirty feet to the bottom of the hill.”

“Why is it so steep?” she demands, even though she knows this is a practice hill. Toddlers in skis are shuffling around them, hand in hand with their parents.

“You’re not falling to the bottom,” Cassian says, growing impatient. “You’re gliding.”

He’s already shown her how to maneuver with skis a dozen times already, and Nesta can see that he doesn’t have another dozen times left in him. Unfortunately for him, Nesta’s own patience was used up hours ago. Her stomach pangs with hunger, and she has a pounding headache from the cold and lack of sleep.

“Oh, come on, Nesta,” Gwyn calls from behind her. She hops up and down in her snow boots like a cheerleader. “You can do it!”

Nesta does not want to do it. She looks down at the hill, then back at Cassian with pleading eyes—eyes that he can’t see under her ski goggles anyway.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Azriel mutters from somewhere. He picks up his ski poles and points to Emerie. “Ski lift?”

“Sure—” she starts to say, and then remembers that she’s here to support Nesta. “Not now,” she amends.

“Just go,” Cassian turns to tell them. “At least some of us will be having fun.” Nesta watches as he goes over to Emerie and Az to give advice on the trails, the same frustration from last night building in her chest.

Stupid ski trip. Stupid uninvited guests. Stupid birthday that Cassian isn’t even treating like a birthday.

Gritting her teeth, Nesta jabs her ski poles into the ground. She’ll conquer this hill, and then she’ll conquer the rest of the trail, and then she’ll take her skis and set them on fire.

With everyone briefly preoccupied and no eyes on her, Nesta pushes herself downhill. Her skis slip a little as she takes off but she readjusts her feet the way Cassian showed her, regaining control. She takes a deep breath, realizing the height isn’t as scary as she thought it would be. Testingly, she bends her knees and pushes herself farther, gaining speed.

“Oh, oh, look!” she hears Gwyn say from behind her. “She’s doing it!”

The voice breaks Nesta out of her precarious concentration, and she almost misses the kid right in front of her skiing at the pace of a turtle. Gasping, Nesta swerves at the last second to avoid running him over.

Her skis clack into each other and she feels her ankle twist, and then she’s down. Hard. Her face meets snow and her ski gear jabs into her body as she tumbles down the rest of the hill, until she finally meets flat ground and rolls to a painful stop.

Nesta only hears a dull roar in her ears as she slowly pushes herself upright. Ignoring alarmed looks from stray skiers around her, she reaches forward and unstraps one ski from her foot, then the other. Her goggles fall to the ground next. Once free, she stands up and walks away, ignoring the calls of her friends from the hilltop.

She walks until she loses sight of the trail and then the resort, until the flattened and trampled snow piles up into powdery mounds untouched by human presence. A cropping of towering evergreens appears before her, and she heads straight for the thicket without pausing.

Once safely entombed by the dark tree trunks and frosted branches, Nesta releases a breath and screams. Screams until the frustration and anger within her bluntens just a little.

The forest absorbs her fire and answers with silence.

“Better now?” Cassian’s voice comes from behind her.

Nesta whirls, ready to fling her next scream at him for having the nerve to follow her, but she only restrains herself because it’s his birthday. Guilt and humiliation nips at her; she shouldn’t be doing this on his birthday. “Leave me alone.” Her voice is raw from shrieking.

Cassian only takes a step closer to Nesta, eyeing her up and down. “You’re not hurt, right? ’Cause that would be embarrassing for you.”

Any edge that was taken off starts to build up again, and Nesta really doesn’t want to look at him right now. “Cassian—”

“Your face is turning red,” he suddenly gasps, pointing. “You should try yelling again, babe. I don’t think the entire resort heard you last time.”

Done with her boyfriend’s shit, Nesta releases a growl and rushes at him. He’s a lot closer than she realized, and in a blink she slams right into his broad chest and shoves him with all her might.

Cassian laughs, short and blunt, and pushes her right back. Her back hits hard-packed snow and then he’s on top of her, pinning her wrists loosely beside her head. Icy wetness seeps past the neck of her jacket.

“Do you want me to fucking bite you?” Nesta snarls, getting in Cassian’s face.

“Always,” he says without hesitation, pressing closer to her. “But first you gotta take a breather.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she seethes back. At this rate, she really might bite him. She wants to see his smug face drop when he realizes he pushed her too far.

“You might have an aneurysm at this rate with your anger issues.” He pouts prettily. “Imagine how sad that would make me.”

“I DON’T HAVE ANGER ISSUES!” she shrieks.

Cassian barely blinks. Nesta breathes heavily in the ensuing silence, realizing how embarrassing this is for her. Yet she doesn’t know how to stop.

Closing her eyes, she drops her head to the ground and turns away. Wishing she could sink into the ground and vanish for a few minutes, at least until she gets herself under control again.

After a moment of quiet, she feels the back of Cassian’s fingers brush her neck. “I wondered where that spitfire girl went,” he says lowly. “She didn’t die. You just hid her very well.”

Nesta’s body doesn’t know whether to feel soothed or incited by the touch, the words. “Does it make you happy?” she breathes, her eyes still closed. “That she’s still there?”

“It would be murder if you ever got rid of her. Don’t you dare,” he threatens.

Nesta huffs a derisive laugh. It’s easy for him to say, when he isn’t the one that has to live with it. “I bet you’re enjoying this.”

“Only if you are.” He sounds completely genuine, and Nesta feels him pluck something out of her hair—likely a snowflake.

Realizing Cassian has long since released her wrists, she opens her eyes and stares at the column of his neck. She doesn’t see the regret and concern on his face when he says, “I ruined today, didn’t I?” She watches him swallow before he adds, “I’m sorry, Nes.”

“It’s your birthday,” she mutters, looking away. “You can do whatever you want.” Even if it’s spending the whole day skiing.

“You’re right about that.” His warm breath hits her nose, and now that Nesta’s head is somewhat clear, she can feel every place where his body settles into hers.

Before she can betray herself and forget how upset she was at him only a few minutes ago, Cassian pushes up and off of her. Frigid air replaces where he was just sprawled, and then he’s holding out a hand to Nesta. “We’re going back to our room,” he says, watching Nesta’s feet closely as he helps her stand. “You can ride on my back.”

“Why?” Nesta grumbles, brushing herself off. “I can walk fine.”

“You twisted your right ankle on the way down that hill, and you started limping as soon as you thought you were out of sight.” Cassian turns around and points at his back. “Get on while I’m being nice.”

That makes Nesta scoff, because he’s always nice, but she has little fight left today. She tries to reach up to wrap her arms around his neck, but Cassian grabs her legs and hitches her up onto his back before she can struggle.

She responds with a scowl, clasping her hands across his chest and getting comfortable. “You noticed I was hurt but didn’t have a problem with tackling me to the ground?”

Cassian squeezes her thighs and holds her closer, tossing a blinding smile over his shoulder. “Sorry if I wasn’t expecting you to try to jump me with an injured foot. You took me by surprise.”

“Bullshit,” Nesta says as they start walking out of the trees. “You did it on purpose.”

“Do you like starting fights, Archeron?”

“Do you?” she retorts.

They bicker back and forth like that until they reach the resort, and even once they’re inside the lobby, Cassian doesn’t put Nesta down. The exhaustion of the day has settled over the both of them by then, and the elevator ride up to the penthouse is peacefully quiet.

Back at the empty suite, Cassian carefully lowers Nesta to her feet. “Take your clothes off,” is all he says before heading for the bathroom, shedding his heavy outer jacket as he goes. Nesta has no problem listening; she’s all too happy to take her snow-drenched gear off and breathe air-conditioned air again.

She only realizes as she’s removing her boots that her overwrought emotions must have dulled the real pain of her fall. Her entire body aches down to the bone, and her twisted ankle has it the worst. Inspecting the swollen skin around her foot, she wonders if Cassian will make her see a doctor when the sound of a running faucet pulls her attention. Still dressed in her thermal underwear, Nesta pads over to the bathroom.

Inside, the room is dim, and the only light comes in from the single window panel at the far end of the room. Cassian sits on the rim of the clawfoot tub as it fills with heated water, already naked.

Nesta coughs, caught off guard. The sight is far from unfamiliar to her, and yet she hates to admit that she’ll never not react to it.

Cassian looks up at her, meeting her eyes head on, and a giggle almost escapes her.

“What’s that dumb look on your face?” he says with high brows. “Take your clothes off and get in.”

Nesta firmly schools her face into obedience. Is she a grown woman or a schoolgirl? she chides herself as she strips naked. But as soon as she’s free of her top and leggings, Cassian stops her. “Turn around,” he says.

Is this a sex thing? She hopes it’s a sex thing. She does as she’s told, and hears Cassian hiss in a breath. Glancing at the mirror over the sink, Nesta winces when she realizes what he sees. “Damn.” Her back is peppered with still-forming bruises from her fall, along with her legs and ribs.

Getting up, Cassian approaches her and cautiously runs his fingers over a reddened spot on her ribs. “I think a ski pole stabbed me there,” Nesta says, frowning down at the bruise. She looks like shit, and not at all in a desirable way.

“How’s your ankle?” Cassian kneels to check for himself, handling her like a porcelain doll. He presses gently above the bone where she twisted it. “Does that hurt?”

Nesta considers saying yes, just so he can keep fussing over her like this, but she shakes her head. “I’m fine. Just a little achy.”

A sudden chaste kiss between her legs makes her yelp, and she twists to find Cassian still on his knees, grinning sheepishly up at her. “You know what can help with those aches?”

Nesta blanks as Cassian runs a calloused hand up her inner leg. “Uh…really good dick?”

Cassian is visibly trying not to smile when he says, “A bath.” He stands and turns the faucet off, before going to help Nesta into the tub.

Steaming hot water just beneath the point of being uncomfortable hits Nesta’s calves, then her hips and chest. She might moan in relief as she sinks into the bath.

Cassian settles in across from her, taking up most of the tub space as Nesta twists her ponytail into a bun. He takes her ankle onto his lap and starts massaging above the injury. He notes, “We haven’t been alone like this in ages.”

“I remember when it was my job to be the chill guy,” he continues, rubbing circles into her leg. “I was the one doing stupid shit, and now I have to tell other people to knock it off when they do stupid shit. Since when did Azriel take my role?” he mutters to himself.

Nesta tilts her head against the lip of the tub and watches Cassian, taking in the barely visible lines of weariness on his face. She was once in a similar boat, too, where she had no one to answer to but herself. “Do you miss it?” she asks hesitantly. “Life before we got to know each other?” A life spent in the company of his friends, meeting different women every other week and being as free as possible.

“No,” he says easily. “I miss life before we had to share each other with other people.” He meets her eyes and smirks. “Who knew monogamy could be so exciting?”

Nesta’s stomach curls at his honesty, and she doesn’t know what to say. In the silence, Cassian reaches for a washcloth and lathers it with a bar of pine scented soap. But before he can reach for Nesta, she snatches the washcloth from him and pulls herself forward into the cradle of his limbs. What she can’t say, she’ll just have to show.

She starts soaping up his arms, granting extra attention to his tattooed biceps.

“You’re hurt—” he tries to protest.

“Shut up.” She runs the washcloth over his shoulders, across his collarbones.

When Nesta reaches his chest, she starts, “Earlier in the woods...I lost control.”

Cassian looks wary, but she goes on, “I don’t know why I did that. I thought I didn’t do that anymore.”

“I know why,” he says simply. “You were having a bad day. It was overwhelming.” He shrugs.

“But I’m better than that,” she insists. “You might think it's cute or funny when I—lose it, but I spent years training myself not to fall apart at the slightest inconvenience.” She takes in a breath, her movements slowing. “I learned how to escape reality, remember? I climbed into books and TV and songs, and at one point my entire life passed me by because I refused to participate in it. If I didn't participate, I couldn't be hurt.” She wrings out the washcloth, and Cassian carefully pries it out of her grip.

Nesta places her empty hands on her thighs, avoiding his touch, his eyes. “I think you were one of the only people who ever made me want to come back to real life,” she offers awkwardly. “That's why you made me uncomfortable at first. There were times I would look at you and think, He's better than anyone from the books. If I start living on the same plane as him, I can have him. Does that make sense?”

Cassian swallows visibly, but nods.

“It seemed like an impossible thing to do at the time—participate in the real world, make real friends. But have you noticed? I don’t read as many romance novels anymore.” Not because she doesn’t love them, but because she no longer needs them to remind herself she's alive.

She looks up at him, searching for his thoughts and opinions. Cassian looks like he's doing the same with her face, but then he says, “If you need to scream, even if it’s at me, tell me. I’ll take you somewhere far away, or I’ll let you have it out right in front of everyone. Whatever the hell you want, as long as you tell me. Please.”

Nesta starts to shake her head, adamant, but he stops her with the most pitiful look he's ever given her. “There’s nothing I hate seeing more than you trying to swallow down your rough edges. Even in the woods, you were about to tame yourself before I provoked you.” Cassian holds out a pinky, completely serious. “Consider it my birthday gift. Don’t do that shit anymore.”

Nesta stares at him, his plea warring with years of conditioned self-restraint. “I already got you a birthday gift,” she finally grumbles, but hooks his pinky with hers.

He seems satisfied, but doesn't let go of her pinky. With surprising strength, he uses their hooked fingers to pull Nesta into him, and she just barely catches herself on his chest before he brings her head down and kisses her deep.

Nesta already has her legs adjusted around his waist and his cock pressed against her stomach before she can pull away far enough to choke, “What’s this for?”

He leans up and catches her lips with his again, dipping his tongue just far enough inside to flick the roof of her mouth before retreating. “For existing. And for those aches.” He presses down lightly on a bruise at her back and runs a soothing thumb over it right after. Between her thighs, she feels him growing hard.

Nesta huffs a distracted laugh, the steam from the water sending a red flush up her chest and neck. It's suddenly very hot, and she unconsciously squirms in his lap. “I just realized I’ve never had sex in the bath before,” she says out of nowhere, rubbing her chest and quickly dropping her arms. She’s babbling, she knows. Contrary to popular media, being a seductress is harder than it looks. Half the time she has no idea what to say, and she considers herself lucky that Cassian is driven wild by it anyway.

Cassian entertains her, nodding along while his fingers slip past her ass, brushing her folds. “That sounds like something that should be amended, don’t you think?”

“Well, in terms of comfort I’m not sure if it’ll be better than the shower—” She’s cut off by a finger teasing at her entrance, making her jerk. “Yes,” she says quickly. “Yes, it should be amended.”

He hums thoughtfully, leaning in to nibble and suck at her neck. Her hardened nipples brush against his chest, and Nesta pushes closer into Cassian’s embrace. She’s half-rocking against him when she rasps, “How do you give head in the bath? Do I, like, have to hold my breath underwater?”

“You don’t need to know how,” he mutters, grasping her by the hips and tugging her up so that he’s eye level with her chest. He starts leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses across her breasts. “You’re not doing anything I don’t tell you to do today.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta’s grip on Cassian’s shoulders tightens when he brings a pink nipple into his mouth, sucking hard and pulling off with a flick of his tongue. She can’t move her hips for fear of climaxing at the slightest touch. “It’s your birthday,” she manages to get out. “And I like seeing what I can do to you.”

“Then save it for your birthday.” He pulls her back down firmly into his lap, making her thighs clench with restraint. “Because I like seeing what I do to you more.”

To prove his point, he parts her legs and slips one finger inside her. The smug pride on his face at what he finds makes Nesta move to grip the rim of the tub. Having a pretty boyfriend might have been a mistake, she thinks. That kind of face will get away with anything. Right now, for example.

“Tell me what you want, then,” she pleads.

Cassian leans back, pretending to think. “Sit on my cock,” he finally says.

An easy enough order, one Nesta is all too excited to carry out in only a few movements. It takes a minute to adjust to the fullness and the stretch, and the water doesn’t help in dousing the fire in her veins at all. With heat pounding deep in her core, Nesta releases a terse breath. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip, and Cassian watches.

“Now don’t move,” he orders.

“What?” Nesta’s knees involuntarily clench around his hips, her body already craving the feel of moving against him, on top of him.

He levels her with a look. “No clenching, no rocking, no touching.” He hisses in a thoughtful breath, combing a wet hand through his hair. “Actually, that isn’t very fair, is it?”

Nesta is about to nod furiously when he says, “You still need to wash yourself.” He hands her the washcloth she used on him earlier and leans his elbow on the rim of the tub. “Be quick about it. No games.”

Nesta’s eyes widen, looking at the washcloth, then back up at Cassian. Excitement tingles in her fingers and toes, and she doesn’t want to argue with him.

Gulping tightly, she soaps up the washcloth, then smooths the lather over her arms. It’s hard to focus on what she’s doing when there’s a pounding pressure between her legs, and the only thing that keeps her going is that she’ll be rewarded when she’s done. Cassian doesn’t bother watching her, instead tipping his head back against the tub and closing his eyes. From this angle, the tendons in his neck stand out clearly, and the hard line of his jaw looks tense. Nothing on his calm face reveals that Nesta is the reason for his tension, though.

Bringing the soapy cloth over her breasts, Nesta looks up to see if Cassian is secretly peeking at her through his lashes. His eyes remain shut, the perfect portrait of a man at rest.

Suddenly, his hips shift beneath hers, and Nesta nearly drops the washcloth. Straightening up, she has to use herculean strength to force her inner walls to relax around him. “You moved,” she accuses him.

“I was getting comfortable,” he says, still not opening his eyes.

“Why can you move but I can’t?”

That gets him to look at her. His eyes are hooded and lazy when he says, “You’re still talking?”

“Maybe if you had clearly explained the rules—” Nesta starts to grumble, but shuts up when he quirks a brow at her. She won’t lose this game, not for anything—even if she’s split at the seams with Cassian inside her and is one thread away from completely snapping.

Now fully alert, Cassian watches Nesta finish washing up. He hasn’t touched her once since he pulled her onto his cock, and now Nesta tries to make up for the aching lack by pretending her roaming hands are his.

It’s not until the washcloth reaches her tummy that Nesta pauses, her hand frozen over her lower abdomen. Because there, even past the cloth, she can feel him. The skin just slightly bulges, and she looks down at herself with her lips slightly fallen apart. She didn’t realize he was nestled so deep in her, but now she swallows past a lump in her throat. “Cassian…” she starts weakly. Every last muscle is trembling with the effort to stay still. Can he really be unaffected by all of this? Is she really the only one dying right now?

Without intending to, her hand drops the cloth, slipping toward her clit. She can only brush the sensitive nub before Cassian says quietly, “Don’t.”

So this is against the rules, too. She can’t even bring herself to look at him, she’s strung so tight. Taking a shallow breath, she grabs the pitcher from the shelf by the tub and fills it with water, using it to rinse off the suds. When she’s done, with water droplets running down every inch of her, she dares to look at Cassian again. Her anxiousness to get this over with must be written all over her face, and yet.

“Good,” Cassian says, voice just a little grated.

Nesta’s heart rate picks up a beat. She’s finally getting her reward.

“Now sit still and pretty while I rest,” he says, sinking even lower into the tub—and causing his cock to dig even deeper into Nesta. “This is a bath, not a splash pad.”

Nesta chokes. “What—I thought—”

“Hm?”

She presses her lips together tightly, refusing to protest. He can’t make her warm his cock like this forever, can he? Soon enough he’ll crack.

Four minutes in, and he doesn’t crack. While Nesta gets closer to crying by the second, she has yet to find evidence that he’s even aware of her presence. Her only proof is the fact that he’s still rock hard, occasionally twitching against the depths of her walls.

At five minutes in, Nesta can’t help it. She breaks, and her inner muscles clamp around Cassian with a viselike grip. She half-sobs in pain and relief, and her hips jerk of their own accord.

Cassian’s eyes fly open at that, the pupils blown wide, and Nesta has to catch herself on his chest to keep from crumbling. If she had half a working brain left, she would have noticed the trembling restraint that lines Cassian’s limbs, or the way his eyes burn with welling desire and even sympathy. Instead, she turns her face into his chest and begs weakly, “Pleasepleaseplease.” Her thighs keep shifting, rubbing back and forth to create friction, but she can’t give herself permission to move the way she truly needs until Cassian gives her permission.

Nesta feels Cassian’s broad hand come up to carefully brush her back. She nearly weeps with relief at the touch, but he doesn’t go any further. “What do you want, baby?” he says roughly.

“You,” she forces out. She doesn’t care if this is losing.

“Me, what?” He sounds like he’s about to lose, too.

“I want you to fuck me.” She’s nearly whimpering, trying not to squirm on his lap.

Cassian, the horrible bastard, has the nerve to snicker in her ear, though he sounds more than a little wrecked when he says, “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

In a flash, he has Nesta pinned against the porcelain tub. And before she can decide whether to laugh or moan or cry at the turn of events, Cassian covers her mouth with his and thrusts into her, giving her everything she wants.

***

Hours later, after they’ve sated themselves on sex and food and Cassian is napping sprawled out across Nesta’s back, she receives a text from Azriel telling her he won’t be there to celebrate the rest of Cassian’s birthday.

Az: You two deserve the alone time. Also I didn’t get him a present.

Another text pops up before Nesta can reply.

Az: I did order a cake to be sent up to your room, though. Don’t worry, there’s not a picture of your boobs on it.

Nesta’s eyes widen at that, not knowing why—or how—that would be an option. But she completely forgot about getting cake in all the unexpected hassle of their vacation, and not for the first time is she grateful that Azriel came along with them on their trip.

Typing back a quick thank you, Nesta clicks her phone off and curls further into Cassian’s warmth. He shifts on top of her, hugging her closer, and a moment later she feels his nose poking at the crook of her neck. “Good morning,” he murmurs thickly, sleep coating his voice.

“It’s six p.m,” she snickers. The sun slipped behind the mountains just a few minutes ago, leaving the room a blue dark.

Cassian responds by slipping his hands under her oversized tee, rubbing the muscles along her back. “Where’s everyone else?” They haven’t seen Gwyn, Emerie, or Az in hours.

Nesta turns around in Cassian’s arms to face him. “Consider them gone. We’re by ourselves for the rest of the night.”

He perks up at that. “Really?”

A knock sounds from the penthouse door, and Nesta remembers Azriel’s text. She squirms out from under Cassian’s weight with some difficulty and stands off the bed. She points a stern finger at him. “Don’t move from here,” she orders. “I’ll be back.”

Cassian leans back, looking questioning and amused, but Nesta has already jammed her feet into slippers and left the room by then.

She accepts the covered platter from room service at the door and leaves a tip, before carrying the cake over to the coffee table in the living area and setting it down. Within ten minutes, she has an entire setup arranged: the fireplace is up and roaring, the fur throw she stole from Cassian’s couch to bring on vacation is spread out before it, and the cake candles are lit. The Italian dinner that she ordered earlier also arrives by then, and once everything is laid out, she calls for Cassian to come downstairs.

He’s fully dressed in a sweater and jeans when he appears at the top of the short set of stairs, and he looks so excited to see her that he doesn’t notice the cake or the dinner until he’s only a few steps away from her. Very slowly, his smile freezes. “What’s all this?”

“It’s your birthday,” Nesta says. “Duh.”

“But I thought we already celebrated,” he stumbles, looking around. “With the skiing, and the bathtub—”

Nesta makes a face. “You thought that was celebrating?” She shakes her head and beckons Cassian over to the fur throw, right before the table decked out with food.

He sits down beside Nesta, looking over her in nothing but her thin white shirt. “Are you cold? Do you want my sweater?”

She rolls her eyes as far back as they can go. “No, I want you to focus and make a wish before 6:27.”

“How do you know my birth time?”

“Will you do it or not?” she threatens. The candle wax is melting onto the cake.

Cassian stares at her for a moment longer before finally facing the cake. Closing his eyes, he mouths something unintelligible and blows the candles out.

Nesta claps softly. “Happy two years away from thirty. What did you wish for?” She leans closer.

He leans away. “It doesn’t come true if you go around announcing it.”

Nesta’s shoulders drop. “Wishes aren’t real, Cassian.”

“That’s what you say.” He swipes a dollop of chocolate frosting off the cake with his finger and holds it out to Nesta.

Smiling, she wraps her lips around his finger, scraping the chocolate off with her teeth and licking it clean. He sucks on the same finger when she’s done, chasing after her taste and the lingering frosting. “What do you want first?” he asks. “Dinner or dessert?”

“This.” Nesta pulls out a small box from under the table, placing it in front of Cassian. She didn’t have time to find wrapping paper or a bag, but she’s a bit proud of herself anyway.

Cassian once again looks taken by surprise. “You didn’t have to…” He trails off as he reaches for the box. It’s already obvious what it is, but he still opens it carefully, hesitantly.

He stares at the silver watch for a little while and then looks back up at Nesta. “I…” He clears his throat.

“What do you think?” In all honesty, Nesta already knows. But she needs to hear it from him.

He meets her eyes. “It’s so…normal. Do you know what I mean?”

It’s the type of gift that Nesta’s mother would have given to her father, the type of gift that wives would give to their husbands. Not necessarily original or thoughtful, but domestic.

“Since you like to spend your time thinking about taxes and minivans and stuff,” Nesta says, remembering their last conversation about the future, “I thought you’d like something normal.”

Cassian laughs at that. He takes the watch out of the box and turns it over in the firelight, still a little dumbstruck. “I love it,” he says roughly.

Nesta kicks him in the knee. “It’s a watch, not an engagement ring.”

But he doesn’t hear a word, already clasping it onto his wrist.

***

Their last day at the resort starts early with Gwyn, Emerie, and Az banging on the suite door at five in the morning. Though Cassian is already up by then, Nesta snarls and snaps like a bitch at being dragged out of bed to watch the sunrise.

With everyone’s bags packed and waiting at the door, they all gather on the balcony connected to the suite in content silence. Azriel nurses a thermos of coffee that he refuses to share with Cassian, and Nesta is wrapped up in that fur throw she loves, half-asleep against Emerie.

When the sky starts lightening, Cassian pulls Nesta away from Emerie and into his body. “You’re gonna miss it,” he murmurs onto the top of her head.

She blinks awake, looking out at the sky slowly being streaked with a dozen colors. From here, the view over the mountains and the quiet town some miles beneath the resort is breathtaking. Easily better than any sunrise Cassian could have shared with Nesta back home.

It’s beautiful, and in that moment he decides he wants to see even more beautiful places than this with Nesta. Someday.

“Pretty,” she yawns, tilting her head back against his chest. Cassian feels guilty for keeping her up so late the night before, but he’s not ashamed of how she rests in his arms right now.

After the sun climbs past the lowest peak, the group of them slowly but surely come more alive. Emerie asks Az to go inside with her and do a final check before they leave, and Nesta shakes both the blanket and Cassian’s arms off herself.

“Some coffee will wake you up,” he promises her, leaving her outside in the dewy morning air with a kiss on the temple.

When Cassian returns to the balcony with two freshly brewed cups, he finds Gwyn and Nesta in deep conversation. “I never apologized for crashing your weekend,” Gwyn is saying.

“You don’t need to,” Nesta responds, watching the world wake up below her.

“Still,” Gwyn says, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I acted out of character, didn’t I?”

Nesta turns to her then, the sun haloing her face, and the look of understanding she wears makes Cassian take a step back inside.

“He does that to me,” Gwyn goes on, looking lost as ever. “I don’t know why he does that to me.”

“First love will do that to anyone,” Nesta says.

This isn’t a conversation Cassian should be overhearing, he realizes. Turning around with his coffees, he goes to find Emerie and Azriel instead.

In the living area, Emerie realizes at the last minute that she’s missing her phone charger. By the time she finds it, Nesta and Gwyn have rejoined the group.

Cassian hands Nesta her still-warm coffee with a warmer smile. “You ready to get out of here?”

“Hell yes, baby.” She slings an arm around his waist.

They barely make it to the resort lobby before Azriel and Gwyn start arguing over which route to take home.

“Why would you add an extra hour to your trip for no reason?” Azriel is saying.

���It’s none of your business!” Gwyn retorts.

“She’s scared of highways,” Emerie inserts.

While they bicker on the way to check out, Cassian finds Nesta’s hand and runs a finger down her palm. “Hey, Nes?”

“Hm?” She looks up at him.

He curls his fingers around hers. “Thank you for doing this.”

***

a/n: i cant keep posting chapters right before i sit down to cry in front of kdramas

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

[thexanwillshine]

a;lskfjdk

Author: thexanwillshine (twitter, ao3) Pairings: Levi x Hange Cross-Postings: AO3 Notes: made for Day 2: Confessions of Levihan Week 2021

“But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Levi Ackerman can argue that every writer he’s met is always a little bit more eccentric than the average person, but no one proves his theory more than Hange Zoë.

Hange wakes him up in the middle of the night, voice screeching on the phone in her excitement. He responds groggily���as one does when their sleep is disturbed at an ungodly hour by an overly-excited author who acts as if they’ve just found out the answers to the universe—and tries to keep himself sober enough to understand what in the goddamn fuck Hange was talking about this time.

“Levaaiiii,” she says, drawling out his name in a manner that was both annoying and endearing, “I’ve figured it out!”

He can almost imagine the look on her face: starry-eyed in her joy, mouth stretched wide into a grin, fingers shaking as she bounces in glee, shifting her weight from the heels of her feet to the tips of her toes . . .

And Levi exhales in both relief and the tiniest hint of delight, because this is exactly how he wants Hange to be: happy .

Nevertheless, he replies “Figured what out?” snarkily.

Hange’s response comes out quickly, as if she needed to say everything that had to be said in the span of five seconds or less. “So you know how I’ve been trying to write a fiction novel because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement as he fixes the covers over his legs before turning on his bedside lamp. He leans back on the bed frame and closes his eyes to listen to her ramble.

“So I was thinking, I wanted to write a romance novel, because you know how people fall in love and stuff?”

“No Hange, I’ve never heard of that concept in my entire life,” Levi says in a deadpan voice.

Hange laughs, because of course she would know that’s his pathetic attempt at lighthearted conversation. Levi is glad that she knows him better than most people, and it is this sense of familiarity that made him feel particularly comfortable when graced with her presence.

“Just because you’ve never fallen in love before doesn’t mean it’s not real, Levi!” Hange tells him in jest.

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“After all, you’ve probably never wanted to kiss someone your entire life!”

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“Sure, Hange.”

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, because yes, Levi has fallen in love—and maybe, just maybe, he’s still on the road to understanding what it meant to treasure someone far more than just a regular friend.

He shakes off such thoughts before maneuvering Hange back to the initial reason why she had called. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I finished,” she proclaims on the phone, her voice proud, “I finished writing the first ten chapters.”

Levi blinks in confusion before sitting straight up, the information processing in his mind that was still a bit drunk with sleep. “You what?” “I couldn’t stop writing,” Hange told him sheepishly, detecting the slightest hint of concern in her editor’s voice, “I’ve been writing for the past 24 or so hours. Maybe more.”

Levi grunts in annoyance, pulling the covers away from his body and jumping out of his unmade bed. He runs a hand through his dark locks, sighing. “Four-eyes, you need to get some sleep.”

“But Levi,” Hange says in protest, “I need you to read my draft. There are some parts I just don’t think are super natural.”

“And I was sleeping like a regular human being,” Levi retorted as he shrugged off his shorts. After that, he put on jeans that he had recently washed before patting down the shirt he was wearing in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the wrinkles that had accumulated while he tossed and turned in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Levi, I didn’t realize the time!” Hange replies, and he can almost feel her guilt starting to set in. “You should go back to sleep,” she immediately adds. “Take care of yourself!”

Levi slips on his rubber shoes and grabs his umbrella before answering. “Coming from you? Not that credible.”

Hange laughs light-heartedly, and his heart flutters just a tiny bit. Levi pushes the feeling away almost as quickly as it had come.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, almost dreading the reply.

There was none.

“Hange,” he calls, but there’s still no response. “Hange. Answer me,” he says firmly, prodding her on. “Have you eaten?”

The laughter that comes out from the other end is nervous. “Woops.”

Levi sighs. He opens his car door and slips inside smoothly, grabbing his keys from his pocket and starting the engine. “Hange, you’re supposed to eat.”

“Sorry,” she tells him honestly. “I really didn’t want to ruin my momentum. I can’t believe I forgot.” She mumbles her second sentence, sounding almost deep in thought. “I’ll go find food now! Want me to email you the working draft? You can look at it in the morning when you wake up.”

“No need,” Levi tells her, placing his phone on his dashboard and accelerating his car. “I’m on the way.”

“Levi!” Hange exclaimed excitedly as she heard her doorbell ring at around four in the morning.

She rushes to the door in delight, opening it to reveal Levi standing in front of her, a paper bag in his hand and a jacket half-heartedly slung over his shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets calmly, before walking inside and letting himself in.

Inwardly, Hange thanks whatever god is out there for her foresight. Her unit was relatively clean since she hadn’t really done anything since Levi’s last visit. The place seemed to pass Levi’s health protocols, since he sat on her couch and placed the paper bag on the table right across from him.

“Eat,” he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hange grins, before plopping down beside him and opening the paper bag. “What did you get me?”

“You’ll see.”

She raises an eyebrow at his ambiguity, before taking a glimpse inside the paper bag.

The smell of quesadillas immediately fills the room, and Hange lets out a soft squeal, taking out the food from the bag quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” Hange says as she nudges him on the shoulder. “You also got me onion rings! You know me too well, Levi.”

“Unfortunately,” Levi responds sarcastically, and Hange laughs almost automatically.

As Hange hums in glee, picking apart the paper wrapped around the food items, Levi maintains his silence. They stay like that as Hange eats. Every so often, she would comment about how the amount of cheese was perfect and how the onion rings just about melted in her mouth. Levi alternates between watching her eat and scrolls through his phone placidly.

Soon, he chooses to break the silence. “So where’s your draft?”

Hange is munching on her last piece of quesadilla when she glances in his direction. “Oh, it’s on my laptop! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, this food was just so good.”

Levi stands up and heads on over to Hange’s room, gently pushing the door open and scanning the area for her laptop. On top of her unmade bed was a half open Macbook Pro, which he gently took before returning to his seat beside Hange.

Without hesitation, Levi opens the laptop and inputs the password. For some reason, Hange made it his birthday—1225—because she claimed that no one would guess such a random date. He is greeted with a blaring Google Docs document entitled “a;lskfjdk.”

“Nice title you got there,” he comments, and Hange chuckles.

“I didn’t want to think of a title yet, okay!” Hange pouts, and Levi nudges her foot gently in an attempt to comfort her from his own teasing.

He scans the document first before reading it. Hange is a good writer, but fiction is an entirely new genre for her. Immediately, he notices common habits from writing research papers leak into her new work: overexplaining, using words that are too formal for her target audience, sentences a little bit void from emotion.

He takes note of these comments on her notes app before going over her draft again, this time more meticulously than he had done previously. During this time, Hange finishes eating, wraps her trash and tosses them all inside the paper bag before standing up and dumping the entire thing inside her garbage bin.

“Levi,” she calls as she washes her hands through the sink faucet. Levi gives her the smallest hint that he’s listening by raising his eyebrow, but he doesn’t take his gaze away from her laptop. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announces, and he waves his hand dismissively.

Hange smiles to herself. Levi is always nagging her whenever she would accidentally hyperfixate on her writing, but he acts the same way when reading her works.

When Hange stepped inside the shower, Levi was already conducting a deep dive in her third chapter. The gears in his head slowly begin to turn as he begins to analyze her work.

The story revolved around the tales of the people who went to the clinic. The first chapter was a brief introduction on who the main characters were: There’s Janelle, a bright-eyed psychologist whose passion influenced the people around her. Together with El and Bea, her trusted assistants studying under her guidance, they would aid the people who went to the Hopiatria Clinic seeking care.

Meanwhile, the second chapter featured a child who felt as if she was being blamed for the death of her mother by her father. Her mother had died in a plane crash shortly after the young girl wished that her mom could go home on her sixth birthday. Janelle talks to the child gently while El and Bea provide emotional support, offering the child toys and biscuits whenever the need arises.

The third chapter was trickier, and it was there that Levi noticed a twist in Hange’s writing. The story revolved around a boy busy getting her doctorate, and a young girl who had been in love with him ever since they were in college. It’s the young girl who comes to Janelle’s office, and she relays the tale of her unrequited childhood romance to the psychologist.

The young girl is passionate, and wanted to take a step forward in order to guide her towards falling out of love with her best friend. Janelle presents two suggestions: (1) confession, while being fully-open to the possibility of rejection, and (2) accepting rejection without confession. The young girl decides to go with the first option, but to her surprise, the boy returns her feelings.

Everything seemed well-written up until the end of the chapter, where Hange had written,

And then they kissed.

Levi scrolled down the page, tilting his head to the side in slight confusion. That’s it? He thought, trying to find the rest.

Everything had been so well-described; from the girl’s internal turmoil—caused by her fear of destroying their friendship and the pain that came with unrequited love—to the boy confessing his own emotions for her.

The ending was anticlimactic, to say the least.

As he blinked at the google document in confusion, already typing out his comment on her notes app, Hange emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, wet from her shower. Wrapped around her waist is his bathrobe, which she had borrowed from him long ago and never bothered to return it.

Levi scoffs as he glances in her direction. Here she was, parading with the cloth on and rubbing that specific fact in his face.

“Hey,” Hange greeted, smiling as she ran a hand through her brown locks, “How’s the reading going?”

“It was okay until the third chapter,” Levi says honestly, pointing the laptop screen in her direction. “The ending’s anticlimactic.”

Hange hummed, pursing her lips together. “Yeah. I didn’t really know how to end it,” she tells him as she opens her cabinet and grabs a few pieces of clothing. “Give me a bit, I’m going to change.”

She disappears into her room and Levi focuses on her story, trying to think of a way to spur Hange on and perhaps actively improve the ending’s writing.

Hange emerges in a loose t-shirt (which was, once again, his) and shorts. She sits down right beside him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at her laptop and read the specific line that particularly irked Levi.

“It’s that one, right?” Hange asks, pointing at the last sentence. “And then they kissed.”

“Yeah,” Levi responds, shaking his head. “Everything was so well-written up ‘till that point. You were able to describe the emotions perfectly, and the narration’s not that bad . . save for a few paragraphs that maybe should’ve stayed in your research papers.”

Hange chuckles. “Old habits die hard,” she responds, before taking her Macbook from his lap and transferring it to hers. “So what should I write?”

Levi shrugs. “I’m just your editor. You’re the writer.”

Hange pouts. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to make this better.”

“Maybe describe the scene more,” Levi suggests. “Everything ended so abruptly. Every emotion you’ve created and built disappeared in that one line.”

She nods in agreement. “But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Hange’s eyes shoot open immediately, and Levi’s face turns red just as quickly.

“F-Forget it,” he says, interrupting her just when he saw Hange open her mouth to speak. Any semblance of calm in his body disappears immediately, and his heart starts pounding against his chest in a rhythm that reminds him too much of a beating drum.

Hange, however, looks elated.

“You want to kiss me?” she tells him in excitement, blinking at him. “I’d like that. It could help me write this scene, you know.”

Levi looks away. “It was just a spur of the moment question.”

“So, you’re not going to kiss me?”

He actively avoids her gaze because he can already see from his peripheral vision that she looks sad, disappointed even. He grunts in response, closing his eyes and focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall.

“Oh,” Hange replies, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”

Contrary to popular belief, Levi does want to kiss Hange. More than anything.

There were many reasons why: Because she looks so handsome and beautiful at the same time, and her very smile could light up any room she’d walk into. Because she says his name in the most endearing way. Because she understands his flaws. Because she has one of the kindest hearts he’s ever seen. Because she welcomes him with open arms, not a single thread of hesitation in her mind.

Most of all, it was simply because she was Hange.

He steals a glance in her direction, and she’s slightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, her head downcast. Her sad expression tugs at hi

Levi thinks he’s already in this too deep, so he decides to speak.

“Did you want me to kiss you?”

From his periphery, he sees her look up at him so quickly he thought her neck would break. “What would you do if I said yes?”

He doesn’t dare turn his head in her direction when he replies quietly, “What do you think?”

“Would you kiss me?” Hange asks inquisitively, tilting her head to the side.

Levi’s heart skips a beat.

“Maybe,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. “If you’d let me.”

Hange is silent for a moment, and Levi thinks this is it, I’m going to be rejected, but he feels a gentle finger touch his chin and turn his head in Hange’s direction.

He is met with her brown orbs, shining just a bit in what seemed like hidden glee. He cocks an eyebrow at her then, confused.

“I’m letting you,” Hange says, laughing. “Kiss me, I mean.” Her face is already slowly nearing his, and he can almost see the way her thick lashes brushed against her skin.

Slowly, Levi raises his head just a tiny bit and responds against her lips, “Okay.”

Hange smiles and closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as he does the same around her waist. She tastes like the peppermint of her toothpaste, smells like his shampoo (which he had kept in her apartment since he always found himself staying over), and felt warm as her skin made contact with his. Hange's lips are gentle, slow, and a little shy—so different from how she usually is. Levi knows it’s because she doesn’t want to scare him off, so he makes the first move and nips at her lower lip, taking it between his teeth and sucking it gently.

She lets out a moan, and Levi takes this as a sign to continue. He slides his hand over her back, and she shudders and deepens the kiss at the same time. Her tongue meets his, and they battle for dominance. Hange’s hand sweeps over his undercut and pushes him towards him, and it is then that he lets out a sound that vaguely resembles pleasure.

After a few minutes, Hange whispers “Levi,” as her lips make contact with his. He hums in response, pulling his lips away from her and connecting his forehead with hers.

“Hange,” he says, breathless.

“Is this you telling me you like me?” Hange asks, closing her eyes.

He doesn’t form a reply through words, but he nods and closes his eyes as well.

“Great,” Hange tells him, pecking his lips with her own. “Because I like you too. Ever since I met you, I’ve liked you. Even though you were so rude to me on the first day of college.”

He chuckles silently in relief, pulling her closer to him before placing his chin on her shoulder. “Think you’ll be able to write the ending now that you know what a kiss feels like?”

Hange laughs, and it vibrates against his shoulder as she hugs him tighter. “It’s exhilarating. I probably wouldn’t be able to put into words how good I feel that you like me back.”

“Try,” Levi teases.

“Well . . . you know that alternative title I wrote for the fictional novel?”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The keyboard smash?”

Hange nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”

a;lskfjdk.

[brownandblackpearls]

🦇𝒯he  𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader) Pt.3

PART 3 SUMMARY:

You’re given a lackluster tour of Dracula’s castle that adds more questions than it answers, yet your quarters are beyond admirable and enough to forget the mysteries for just tonight. His ice is slowly melting, but not enough for you to see anything certain. To help speed things along, you decide to be a friendly guest and cook breakfast for the both of you.

─── Alucard x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.

☾ previous. ☾ next.

┌───────────━┿──┿━──────────┐

└───────────━┿──┿━──────────┘

Your host is as gracious as the circumstances allow, you begin to realize. As immense and as glorious as the few parts of the castle you’ve seen are, your host confides that they were once even grander. He speaks briefly of there being a battle of sorts. He doesn’t say when or why, despite prodding, but it helps to fill in some of the gaps you have.

Spying some of the deeper gouges and gashes in the tough stone, you can’t help but wonder exactly what he was battling.

“You won the battle, then...?” You ask.

“Something like that,” he says simply enough, but it reads rather ominously to your ears.

You pause as you follow him, trying your best not to sound too afraid. You hope no enemies from this past battle still sneak about...

“So it’s just you and I, here…?”

He turns on you slowly, and a familiar dread rises in your gut as you realize you’ve angered him once again. Unfortunately for you, you’re not sure how. His features appear natural and still, but what you are feeling under your skin hints at the truth to his demeanor. You catch a hint of fang as he speaks, and you wonder if it’s intentional.

“Yes. Does that suit your plans?”

You hesitate, unsure.

“I…’plans’? I don’t—“

“—Allow me to assist you. Silver is a trifle. Stakes are laughable. Garlic does nothing, and no holy symbol nor water—no matter what wayward priest you find to bless it—will help your cause. Sunlight is a pleasure to my skin, which heals from fire, knife wounds, and all other maladies in conception, if you even manage to pierce it. If a Belmont had trouble making me bleed, you surely will. The few things that I am susceptible to, are magic, decapitation, and stakes, but then again, who isn’t? I implore you to try though, and wish you luck. Believe me, you will need it.”

Like before, as if you’ve been transported back behind the walls of books, he is upon you, and you cannot help but tremble. The ruby red is back, flickering just behind his sunstorm eyes. You are beside yourself but you do your best to think quickly as to what nonexistent offense he’s percieved.

‘Does he think I mean to kill him? How even could he assume such a thing…? From me, of all people...?’

“I do not wish to make an attempt on your life,” you say slowly, clearly. “My magic is very poor, but not my behavior towards hosts kind enough to allow me in their homes.” You put a heavy emphasis on the ‘host’ portion, hoping to remind him of his promise from before.

“Enlighten me then,” he asks in a tone that seeks anything but enlightenment. “Why do you want to know if we are alone, if not to better plan something that would require isolation?”

You find yourself frowning.

“You…you completely misunderstand me, sir…” you begin, stepping back. “I just…I asked if we were alone because….I…I…”

Something in your face must call out to his reason, because the red drains out from his eyes and he steps away, reeling back. The grieved look returns.

“You’re afraid,” he realizes suddenly, aloud. “You want to ensure nothing else lurks in these walls.”

You nod, happy to be comprehended, for once.

“Yes,” you insist. “The damage from the battle...I see it, and I think that your foes were very strong. I only hope they were all defeated and that it is just you and I here, alone, sir—er, Alucard.”

He nods, looking somewhat embarrassed now.

“It is only us, in these walls.”

You sigh happily, glad to have your fears discarded. The castle was still scary and intimidating of course, as large as it was. It felt as though something had to be tiptoeing somewhere around in the fortress, yet...he would know the place better than you, wouldn’t he...? And if he says its just you two, then hopefully that is so.

“Good,” you sigh. 

He makes no move at the sound of his name in your mouth, but he does think on your words before bowing his head ever so lightly.

“I apologize,” he admits. “I keep...jumping to conclusions. I made you fret after giving my word. Forgive me.”

You watch him with pleasant surprise, the corner of your mouth quirking up. 

So there were manners somewhere in there.

“You’re forgiven. I’m sure you must have had a rough go of assassins, being who you are and all.”

“I’ve had my share,” he admits, before turning to advance through the corridor. You don’t have time to think about his ‘share’, trying to keep up. You know he can move far faster than he is showing now, and you appreciate the effort he makes to go at a human pace so that you may follow closely behind. 

Deep down, you are still worried about what lays in the castle. You do feel safer, knowing something supernatural like him is at your side, and vowed to make sure no harm befalls you.

“Well,” you continue conversationally, trailing after him, “thank you for soothing my concerns. I feel all the safer for it.””

“...Odd,” he comments. “Hm?”

“You, feeling safer alone in Dracula’s castle, with a dhampir.”

You chuckle.

“I suppose it is odd when you put it that way. Just work on that temper of yours, and I’ll really be right as rain!” The jest is funny enough for you, but it doesn’t land so well with your present company.

He scowls, but the real heat is gone. Energized from knowing he is bound by promise and that there are no others here, you feel bold enough to place an assuring hand on his arm. 

He feels strong and solid, like stone. He stiffens before pulling away, peering down at you.

You try your best not to look too hurt. You smile assuringly instead.

“Believe me, Alucard. I’m not here to try and do you in. I mean, look at me! You think I’m foolish enough to attempt such a thing on you when I could hardly handle that crowd of ruffians outside?”

You laugh then, slapping a hand on your leg. It is the bare one from the rip in your dress, and the smack is much louder than you anticipate. It’s enough to silence you into meek embarrassment.

Alucard simply watches you before turning around and leading you on.

You follow him silently now, and you quickly find that the tour is rather lacking. He says little about the winding halls you are led through, and you can’t help but wonder the stories of each hallway, of each room. Will you ever learn of them?

The place is monstrous, and so the soles of your feet are a bit sore by the time you reach what Alucard regards as your quarters.

“You will stay here,” he gestures past a large emblemed door into a wide room. 

You peer inside, finding a beautifully canopied bed, heavy curtains attached to what you can only assume is a gigantic window. There is a large bookcase, a fireplace, an armchair, a desk, and a small door leading into another room. 

“That is your bathing room,” he notes.

When you stare at him curiously, he explains.

“My father possessed immense technological advancements,” he says quickly, as if he’s explained it several times before. Perhaps he has.

‘So his father is Dracula,’ you think. ‘But the stories of Dracula were much more…gruesome and cruel. If this is his son...this man is certainly scary when roused, but…’

His deep voice breaks you out of your reverie.

“The washing room has a basin called a ‘tub’. There is also a bidet with a smaller basin called a toilet. No need for outhouses or bringing up jugs of water here. We have plumbing.”

Now, you’re utterly confused.

Alucard sighs.

“Just…follow me. I’ll show you.”

You do just that and watch, engrossed, as your host thoroughly lays out and points to every faucet, knob, and all of their uses. Before long, you ascend from a common traveling woman to an expert in an alternate world knowledgeable on things such as ‘plumbing’.

You beam at the tub and sink, too giddy with joy to hide it. You bounce a little, your hands drawing to your chest excitedly.

Alucard levels a raised brow at you, pausing.

“...Are you alright?”

You nod happily, twirling in the bathroom to face him.

“This place is incredible! Plumbing! Who would’ve thought? There was almost something like this I saw over the Eastern seas, but the people there called them…acq..acqueducts! They were these large beams that delivered their water…oh, but no matter! My hair! Goodness, it will be leagues easier…”

Alucard glances at your crown of curled, kinky locks before refocusing on you.

“How did you manage, before?”

“Oh, ponds. Streams. Rivers. The seaside. That sort of thing,” you say absently. “The chill of the water did wonders for my mane, but I felt like an icicle the entire time. And you say I can have heated, freshwater through these devices? I can’t lie, I’m ecstatic!”

Alucard nods shortly at that, watching you curiously, but seemingly unable to share your interest in the fixtures. Perhaps you’re more of an interest for him at this point than the plumbing. You eyeball his own healthy mane and assume he’s long been used to such luxuries.

“Oh, but…can I wash my garbs in the tub, too?”

Alucard tilts his head at that before realization sparks in his eyes.

“No. No, you’ll wear something else. That’s fairly ruined.”

You silently leave out the part that it is partially his fault, but he seems to catch on anyway.

“I…” he tries stiffly. “I apologize again. For before.”

“Oh?” You respond innocently. “For what? Scaring me? Yelling at me? Threatening my life? Tripping me?”

He sinks a little lower with each act. 

“All of it.”

“Oh! Well, then you’re forgiven. As much as I appreciate the apology, I have a feeling that this ‘tub’ will more than make up for it.”

Alucard seems to relax at that, showing you the cabinets with everything you’ll need.

“I’ll…” he trails off. “I’ll find you some clothing.”

He turns to leave, but you reach out to gently grip the tuft of white blouse peeking out from his sleeve. He turns, watching you sharply. 

He does not pull away, though. You call it progress.

“Alucard,” you say. “Thank you for your hospitality. Sincerely.”

He looks to the floor instead of your eyes—as if he’s afraid of what he’ll find there—before gently pulling away and wordlessly leaving the room.

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You are lucky enough to find interesting soaps and good-smelling candles before working the bath. With some maneuvering and much delight, you are able to conjure bubbles through use of items you’ve scavenged from the cabinets. You find washcloths, sponges, brushes, and an assortment of other things.

You want to wait for your host to return first, but as the minutes continue to pass you realize you need to take advantage of the hot water before it cools.

You shed your clothes, undo your hair, and step into the water-filled basin.

“God…” you whisper, goosebumps rising on your skin.

It feels incredible.

You sink into the water, a smile on your face. You haven’t felt something this good since traveling to hot springs in your more daring adventures. Back then, you had to evade the cultist locals for a hint of heated water. This was so different, as it was your own personal hot spring whenever you desired!

You sink deeper into the water for a bit before beginning to scrub and lather your journey off of you. You decide to empty and fill the tub once more, just because you can, and bathe a little more before feeling pristine to your liking.

Stepping out, you massage in some leftover body oil from your pack. You clean the basin before peeking out into your room.

There is no one present, but a new, soft nightdress lays comfortably on the chair. Your fireplace is even lit.

You smile to yourself as you step out and lift the nightdress, assessing it.

“So his bark is louder than his bite,” you decide aloud.

You change swiftly, and despite being in such an strange situation, once in the massive bed, you find sleep has come right on your heels. Your eyes almost slide shut until you hear a knock at your door.

You open your eyes and slip out of bed. You push open your door—which has a heavy lock, you now realize—to see Alucard, in low lantern light, gazing back at you.

“I trust you found everything,” he says, rather than asks. You hear the question for what it is.

“Yes,” you smile. “Thank you.”

He considers your expression for a long moment before nodding his affirmation.

“Hm. Very well. There is a lock on the door of your room…if that’s any consolation to any fears you may have. Feel free to use it. Good night then,” he says, turning to leave.

“Alucard?” You call.

When he waits for you without turning to face you, you speak.

“Where will you be staying?”

‘If I need you,’ you think. 

You soon realize that this may become a situation where Alucard hears something in your speech that is not really there. With a solemn look, and the absence of an anger just as disturbing as its presence, he points to a door just down the hall from you. You would be pleased if not for the expression on his face.

“Just there,” he says. 

You realize that due to the two misunderstandings being him assuming you want to kill him, that this is likely what this third time revolves around. 

“Alucard,” you try, “I don’t intend to condescend, but you must know, I only ask for my own concern. I’m happier to know that my host is nearby. I meant no ill will by it. I’d be a poor assassin, remember?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly, as if he really is just recalling it. “I remember.”

“You’d hear me before I even entered, I bet!”

“I would.”

“So there is nothing to worry about…right…?”

His stiff shoulders finally seem to relax an inch. 

“I suppose. In any case…You are not to enter my domain, under any circumstances, outside of imminent danger. It would be…unwise of you.”

You nod, unsure of what exactly he means but positive he that he does mean what he says.

“I will see you in the morning...?” 

He pauses at that, looking somewhat bewildered. 

“I…yes, you will.”

“Alright!” You nod, pleased. “Good night then.”

Closing the door, you turn to the large, firelit room and beam.

It is a princess’s quarters…no, a queen’s! You will live lavish while you’re here, it seems.

You lay on the soft mattress under the thick covers, knowing pleasure you’ve never felt before until sleep takes you gently into the night.

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When you wake, it is before the sun has fully broken into the sky. Pretty blues and pinks spill across the sky outside your window, so different from the cold colors of the day before. Rising in your nightgown, you spy a dress on the chair of your room. Alucard must have entered in your sleep. Had you locked the door...? You cannot recall. Under normal circumstances, traveling on the road, you would have never forgotten such a thing as utilizing a lock. For some reason, perhaps last night you felt you didn’t need to. 

You absently palm your neck for pinpricks of the vampiric sort, and find nothing.

‘Good enough for me, then.’

The dress lays before you, waiting

It is different, without any tears, and deep in its color. You pause before adorning it, turning this way and that in the looking glass before attempting to do something with your hair. 

‘I look rather stunning in this. Why does he have such nice women's clothing lying about, I wonder...?’

Once complete, you decide to do something as equally nice for your host as this dress was for you.

“Breakfast! I’ll make us breakfast. Dhampirs can eat food, right…? Now, if only I could find the kitchen…”

You spy your basket by the door. Another gift from your late-night visitor.

You pick up your newly returned basket from the room’s entrance, flipping over the blanket to spy your stolen vegetables still intact. 

You leave your rooms with a smile that slowly falls.

‘He said not to disturb him…perhaps I can find the kitchens myself? They must be on the first level, maybe the underground chambers, if anything. That’s how all castles are. I’d better start now if I hope to finish in time.’

You’re certain you will get lost, but you have a feeling that your host can easily find you again.

You pause, realizing something.

‘I hope I don’t find bottles of blood or something lying around…or something else’

On that sobering thought, you strap your dagger’s hilt tighter to your thigh. Alucard said you were both alone, but it couldn’t hurt to be vigilant.

You venture out and do your best to recreate the inverse of Alucard’s path to the great hall. After several turns and rerouting, you finally begin to recognize the way back to the grand hall. It takes far longer than you anticipated, and your soles begin to complain a little once you find the grand staircase.

With some exploration on the main floor, you finally come across a door leading into what appears to be a small kitchen. The floors are clean as are the pots and pans hanging from their hooks on the walls. You spy plenty of utensils, knives, and what appears to be another basin...plumbing. You will ask Alucard the name later.

You set down the basket, pleased to have reached your goal, and get to work.

“Can’t have just a vegetable scramble. He’s a literal dhampir, and I could use some protein.”

You can't find any aprons about, and so you wrap what looks to be a tablecloth around your pretty dress. No reason to ruin it with the trials of breakfast.

You hunt for eggs, meat, nuts, and anything of the protein type. After some pillaging, you are able to find all three and get to work. The eggs are small, and the meat is fox, rabbit, and fish instead of the typical villager fare of cows and pigs, but you make it work. You wash your hands and begin to carve out fillets, prep vegetables from your basket, and luck upon some spices. You search for oil, but can only find butter, and so you do your best with it.

Soon enough, the kitchen begins to fill with the scents and fumes of a bountiful breakfast. You plate the spiced eggs, the braised meat, the sautéed vegetables, and fill a pitcher with water. You think about finding the secret garden nearby once more to perhaps make juice from berries and fruits, or even preserve. Turning to the wood table, you set everything down before finding your final item.

The loaf of bread is well hidden, but not well enough. It is a little stale, but not enough to discourage. You claim it and cut it before setting it out on the table as well.

Turning to wash your hands one final time, you are unsurprised to find Alucard stalking in the doorway of the kitchen when you turn back around.

“What are you doing...?” he grouses, clearly just having recently awoken.

“Cooking us breakfast,” you sass, “you’re welcome, by the way. Oh, uh...you can eat food, right...?”

Alucard’s sleepy demeanor slowly fades as he nods, his interest growing as the smells of food clearly begin to assault him and cause wonders for his mood.

“Well?” You say, undoing the tablecloth-apron and taking a seat for yourself. “What are you waiting for? Sit with me, let’s eat!”

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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

☾ previous. ☾ next. 

☾ check my blog for more imagines.

[dokifluffs]

Your Ex Wanting You Back | Ushijima, Bokuto, Kuroo

Pairing: Ushijima X Reader (gender neutral), Bokuto X Reader (gender neutral), Kuroo X Reader (gender neutral) 

Genre: angsty, love

Request: “can i request a hc to your ex wanting you back while you’re with them..? for bokuto, kuroo, ushijima? tysm i love your writing” -anon

Author’s Note: omg I loved writing this sm and I added an angsty, bad relationship past with Y/N and the ex teheh. Thanks for requesting, anon! Hope you all enjoy!! 

Warnings: implementations of manipulation of money (Ushijima), Black mailing (Bokuto), and verbal abuse (Kuroo) ((Also, their names is not THEM doing that to y/n, it’s what their y/n experienced with their ex)) 

Ushijima: 

Arriving at the gym a bit early, you stood near the doors where the teams would be entering so you could wish Ushijima the best of luck

Though he didn’t really need it with his skill and raw strength but it was the thought that counts

The audience slowly began to take their seats, chatter filling up the spacious gym as the teams entered

You suddenly felt hands crawl up your sides, making a smile spread across your features

“Ush- you,” the smile faded when you turned around to find your ex instead of the loving boyfriend you were with

“Since you’re here, why don’t we catch up, hm?” He asked with his hands still on you, his fingers squeezing your side

This made you feel very uncomfortable since it brought up bitter memories you had with this guy

His lies came out as easy as breathing to him and it made you sick

The countless number of hours you wasted being with him, thinking he actually cared about you when all he cared about was using you for his own benefits

The cigarettes he was able to buy with the money he “borrowed”

All your emotions you thought you left behind you suddenly churned inside of you, making you feel sick seeing his face so close to your face once again

His Smokey breath right in your face

“Get off of me,” you demanded as you tried to pry his hands off of you but he was strong

It made you remember the grasp he had on you and how sour things ended between you two but it was for the best of course

“Don’t be like that, bab-“

“They said to stop.”

A strong latch was held onto his wrist forcing him to release you

“Hey, who do you-“ the words stopped from his lips as he turned around to look up, seeing the Ushijima

He looked down to him with his stoic eyes as well as his team looking from behind their captain with their piercing and intimidating eyes

Y/n protection squad has arrived

He knew exactly who this man before you was

Those nights he held you close in his arms to soothe you of your sadness and the pain he inflicted on you

Ushijima usually felt neutral to everyone but he was disgusted by him

“Don’t come near them again,” his voice low as his rumbled in his throat

With that said, the guy scrambled off and his team continued into the gym to follow their warm ups while Ushijima stayed behind

“Are you okay?” He asked placing a hand to your shoulder

“Yeah, thanks,” you gave him a relieved smile as you took his hand from your shoulder into yours

“Good luck today. Win another one,” you said as you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand

His lips pulled into a thin smile as he nodded before joining the rest of the team with their stretches

Bokuto (ft. Akaashi): 

The sun was hot as it beamed down on you and a few of the other managers from other teams as you all took your turns to fill up the water bottles for the teams

The gym felt hotter on the inside since there was poor air circulation and it didn’t mix well with five high school volleyball teams playing for almost the entire day

But it was all for the better to help their skills as players and bonds as a team

You chatted with the other managers about the teams until it was finally your turn to fill up the water bottles for your team, Fukurodani

“You guys don’t have to wait for me,” you said as you waved off to them as they carried their water caddies, bringing them back to the sweltering gym

As you turned, back toward the faucet, you were met with a sudden chest that made you fall back, knocking some of your bottles to the ground

“Y/N, what a coincidence to see you here,” the silky voice of your ex made chills run up your spine as he squatted down to your level

“You looks so cute with that expression on your face,” his hand holding your jaw with his sinful eyes looking into your eyes, taking in the shaken look over your features

You shook out of his grasp, picking up the water bottles all around you so you could fill up your bottles and be on your way

You could hear your heart racing in your chest and the cold feel of fear spreading in your chest making goosebumps rise over your skin in the heat

“Do you want to model again for me?” He asked dangerously close to your ear

“Please go away,” you moved away, trying your best to fill up the bottles

“Oh come on, those pictures I took of you were beautiful,” his voice sensual in your ears, it brought up all the shameful memories

How were you so naive you didn’t realize how wrong things were before it got so bad

“What do you think you’re doing here,” the sound of Bokuto’s voice pulled you out of the dark as he grabbed the guy’s shoulder from behind, forcefully pushing him away from you

The guy was rendered useless seeing Bokuto with Akaashi behind him knowing he wouldn’t win if he got into a fight

“I strongly suggest you leave,” Akaashi spoke straightforwardly

“Tch, whatever” he spit as he carried on his way, away from the three of you

You let out a visibly relieving sigh as you looked up to the sky to blink away the tears you felt stinging at your eyes

“I’m here,” Bokuto’s voice was much softer with you along with his touch as he took you into his arms despite how sweaty he was

But you didn’t care

He was the one in your life, not that revolting excuse of a human

Akaashi and Bokuto helped you finish filling the bottles and carried them back to the team, cheering you up by telling you the weird dance the Karasuno team as they chanted about meat for some reason

Kuroo (ft. Kenma): 

The sky was a beautiful mix of golds and rich oranges as the sun was on its journey to set beyond the horizon, making way for the early night

You walked with Kenma and Kuroo as the three of you walked to the convenience store for some drinks after their practice

You listened intently in the good atmosphere around with your best friends and your love, Kuroo as he told you about how funny Lev was when he failed syncing with Kenma’s sets

This got Kenma to sigh, going on a little tangent as he continued to walk and play on his device

Your bright laughter lifted their energy a bit more and Kuroo loved your laugh

It made it felt like nothing could go wrong in the world

You waited outside the store as the two went in to get drinks and you watched the horizon, taking a picture of the golden sunset, your eyes wide at the beauty of nature

“I see you’re still taking those stupid pictures,” the sound of scoffing was right in your ear

You flinched automatically away from the voice as you turned to see him again

And it suddenly felt like a wound was opening in your chest. A wound you thought closed when Kuroo helped mend it

How was he able to rip it open it easily

“Aw, don’t give me that look, Y/N. I’ve missed you,” he said as he slowly took steps toward you as you instinctively stepped backs the words you wanted to say to him stuck in your throat

But what did you want to say when he was always able to turn the words back to you, the venom rolling off his tongue

“Haven’t you missed me too?” He asked, his face dangerously close to yours as he backed you against a telephone pole on the side of the street, one arm over your head while his other tucked in his pocket

“I know you have,” he purred, smirking devilishly as the hand that was resting above your head cane down to stroke your face

“Don’t touch them,” Kuroo spoke with a sweet sound in his voice, a smile on his face but you could feel his anger

You had told him and called him countless times when you woke up at night cause of he words your ex had seared into your mind about you

All were false but words had a way with sticking

The hold he had on the guy’s hand was almost bone crushing as he controlled his temper around the guy who had hurt you so badly

He never wanted to see him and he never wanted to see you so sad

He wanted to see the smile you were able to show him after a long time

“Oh? And what’re you gonna do?” He mistakingly asked

“I’ll show you something to be scared of, you piece of trash,” Kuroo cursed as he squeezed the guy’s hand until his knuckles were white, his entire demeanor different as he sent a death glare at the guy

“Alright, alright,” he finally piped up, trying to hide the clear pain Kuroo was putting on his hand

Kuroo let him go and watched him go off, sending him a glare when he looked back, standing in front of you so he couldn’t even see you

“Let’s go home,” his aura lighter around you as he handed you a drink nonchalantly, holding you close with his arm wrapped around your shoulders protectively

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else! 

Tags (send me an ask if you wanna be added): @yams046​ @mazey-chan​ @sunboikyo00​

[headheartbellarke]

Love, Owen. | OWEN PATRICK JOYNER

Requested by anon: “Hi, I have a request for Owen! He's in love with Y/N but despite all his flirty comments, she's still oblivious, and he gets mad when one day she told him that she have a date. Please and thank you x”

PAIRING(s): Owen Joyner x fem! reader

WARNING(s): angst, owen being a dumbass, some language, fluffy ending

WORD(s): 3,343

SUMMARY: in which y/n is engaged, but owen is hopelessly in love with her.

A/N: took a little creative liberty here hehe :3

    Owen taps his foot anxiously, and his roommate and best friend, Charlie, gives him a dirty look. “Can you stop that? I’m trying to text my sister.”

  “Sorry. I just feel anxious.” He admits, looking down at the grey tiles of Vancouver International airport.

  Charlie’s voice softens. “Why?”

  “I just haven’t seen her in so long and I’m scared if things are too… weird, or different.”

  “Hey, breathe, okay? She’s been your best friend for how long?” Charlie lays a hand on his shoulder.

  “Since we were five, so fourteen years.”

  “I can promise you that nothing will change, okay, buddy? It’s gonna be fine.”

  Owen nods, looking at the red, neon ‘Arrivals’ sign atop his head. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and his eyes linger on his lock screen, that is a picture of him and the person he is currently waiting for – Y/N, his best friend. He smiles at the picture – it’s them on her last birthday, and she is grinning, wearing a princess tiara and red, heart sunglasses, while he’s pouting, with a birthday cap atop his head, as she squishes his cheeks.

  He feels a tap on his back, and he turns around, his heart racing, fully expecting to see her, after two long months.

  But it’s Charlie, grinning with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  A disappointed sigh escapes Owen, and he says, “What are you doing?”

  His friend shrugs and says, “Behind you.”

  He turns around again, and finally spots her, standing a couple feet away – and for a moment, his world tilts on its axis, and it’s just him and Y/N. Warmth courses through his veins, as his body goes on autopilot and he starts taking long strides towards her. She seems to also have frozen in time, but when she sees Owen, she runs, and jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his torso, and her arms around his neck.

  The momentum shocks him, but he quickly recovers and holds her steady against his body. It’s like his brain is lagging – but he feels like he’s home when her fruity smell overpowers his senses.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Owen whispers, as she buries her face in the crook of his neck. He feels the vibrations of her laugh roll into his body as she says, “I have so much to tell you.”

  He slowly puts her down, running his hands along the length of her back. Y/N takes a step back from him, and grins, and Owen’s sure that his heart melted, just a little.

  He knows that the fact that he’s in love with her is hopeless, pointless, even. But he can’t help it – how could he? Y/N is his other half, his best friend, his family. She is the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and she is as sweet as sugar. She sees good in every human being, no matter how much they’ve hurt her – and has a spark inside her, that can put all the fires in the world to shame. She knows him like the back of her hand, and has always been there for him, with no expectations.

  So, it was quite inevitable that he fell in love with her.

  She reaches a hand forward, and combs Owen’s hair with it. “Your hair’s a mess, as usual.”

  “That’s because I didn’t have you to fix it.” He replies cheekily, but Y/N just laughs.

  “Your mother told me to remind you to do your laundry.”

  He nods. “Noted. Also, did I mention that somehow you’re a hundred times more beautiful than the last time that I saw you?”

  “Pfft. Where’s Charlie?” She says, and Owen’s unsure whether she is oblivious to or ignores his blatant flirting. It’s not like it has been subtle – he loves her so much that it’s impossible for him to not give signs at this point.

  “Right here. Loving all the attention that you’re giving me, kiddo.” Charlie says, walking up to them.

  She laughs breezily, hugging him. “I’m just two years younger than you, dude.”

  “I know – holy shit, Y/N, is that an engagement ring?” Charlie’s eyes widen and Owen feels his heartbeat race. “What?”

  He looks at his best friend, and she bites her lower lip. “That’s what I’m here to tell you.”

  Owen takes a step back from their little circle, suddenly feeling breathless. “So, you’re not here because you missed me, but because you got engaged to some – some dude?”

  “No! No, that was phrased wrong. No, that’s not it.” She mumbles the last part, but he’s not convinced. “It’s not some dude, Owen – Louis asked me to marry me.”

  “Louis? The guy you’ve been dating for three months?!”

  “But I’ve known him for a year!”

  Owen shakes his head. He absolutely hates Louis. To be honest, he hates any and every boy that shows an interest in Y/N, and that’s a lot of people – and who can blame them, right? But she’s always turned down those boys, choosing to have a movie marathon with Owen instead. But Louis – he goes to college with her, and even though he hates to admit it, they are quite alike – they’re both brilliant and ambitious.

  That’s why Owen’s always felt insecure ever since she said that he had asked her out – because how could Y/N choose him over perfect Louis? Louis whose part British, part French, is obsessed with physics just as much as Y/N is, who is tall, and handsome, who volunteers at homeless centres on his weekends, and is on the soccer team?

  When they went on their first date, he didn’t think much of it. She’s always going on dates, something about living life to the fullest, and making as many connections as possible. He didn’t think that anything would come out of it, because it never does. Sure, he wishes that he’s the one that she goes with on those dates, but at least, nothing serious ever happens on them. The last serious relationship she had was during their senior year, which was also when Owen had realised that he is in love with her.

  But now, he feels a heart crushing weight, the weight of his secret, because he never, ever thought that it would go this far.

  “You’re making a huge mistake.” He mutters and Y/N’s brows furrow.

  “Owen, please, you’re my best friend. You’re supposed to support me no matter what.”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t support you when you’re throwing your entire life down the drain.”

  “You never support me. You didn’t support me in high school, and you don’t support me now.”

  “Your high school boyfriend wanted you in the kitchen with a dinner plate and refused to let you go to Stanford.”

  “That is not the point. The point is, you’re supposed to have my back. But I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. You never call me – I get it, O, you’re busy with your life – and I’m so happy for you, you know that I am, but I didn’t realize that being an actor would mean that we wouldn’t even be friends anymore.”

  Owen pauses. It’s true, he has been ignoring her. But, in his defence, whenever they would talk, Louis was around. He’s always around. It made Owen feel pure, blind hatred because he is everything that Owen is insecure about.

  “That’s your fault.”

  She raises her brows. “Really? How?”

  “Because all you talk about is Louis!” He lies. “We all know that he isn’t gonna last, Y/N.”

  Her jaw clenches. “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t know how to be in a relationship. That’s why none of them last. You’re just gonna leave him and break his heart like all the other guys.” He says, bitterly. At this point, words are just flowing out of his mouth – almost as if some imaginary faucet in his brain has been turned on.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying, O.” She looks around, and Owen knows her so well that he knows that she is trying to hide the fact that she might start crying.

  Then, before he can stop himself, years of suppressed feelings rise. “I know you, Y/N. You think you’re better than anyone, but, in reality, you’re the worst. You treat people as if they’re nothing and you never, ever care about what others feel. You don’t care about anything – me, Louis or anyone.”

  A single tear slides down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away, and Owen finally catches a sight of her ring – a single, beautiful, big diamond on a silver ring. Simple, just as she likes.

  That makes him even more mad, and he says, “You were supposed to be my best friend – but right now I can’t even look at you, Y/N.”

  His voice cracks when he says her name.

  “Is that what you think of me?” She finally says, her voice hoarse. Just speaking frees more tears from her eyes, and Owen’s heart breaks, but he can’t stop.

  He nods, and she chokes back a sob.

  “Owen, you don’t mean that.” Charlie whispers softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Owen forgot that he was here, and his throat tightens. He hates the fact that she’s friends with all his friends, and they love her as much as they love him.

  “I – I – I’m gonna stay somewhere else. Since you can’t, you know, even look at me.” She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and Owen stops himself from reaching forward and holding her. He hates himself so much, right now – he said all those things that he didn’t mean, things that are completely false, just because he’s jealous. He hates the fact that his best friend is crying in front of him, and he has to look away because of his pride.

  “Hey, Y/N, that’s nonsense –” Charlie starts but Y/N raises a hand and says, “Please, Charlie. I – I can’t stand here and take this shit. I’m just… just gonna go.” She hooks a finger on her trolley, and drags it behind her, walking toward the exit.

  As he watches her go, Owen feels the heaviness in his chest return, like a stone. He feels his throat tighten, and his vision blur, while his mind races – he tries to catch a thought, but they’re all messy and he doesn’t know what to think. He feels like he’s trapped, like someone has put a plastic bag over his head, and he feels like there’s no air around.

  He is faintly aware of Charlie holding him, and whispering, “O, you’re having a panic attack.”

***

    “Owen? Are you alright?” Savannah asks, resting a hand on his shoulder.

  He nods. “Absolutely.”

  Madison plops on the couch beside him, in the break room. “Where’s Y/N? Wasn’t she supposed to come here yesterday?”

  Owen watches Savannah’s eyes widen as shakes her head toward Madison, who looks completely oblivious.

  “She… Uh, she… we had a fight, and she went to stay somewhere else.” He says, still reeling from yesterday’s events.

  Honestly, he doesn’t know what to do. After his panic attack at the airport, Charlie took him home and let him stay under his covers for the rest of the day, informing everyone on set that he had a bad cold and couldn’t make it. After a while, Savannah was there with bags of Chinese food for Owen and when he tried to eat, he remembered the fact that Chinese cuisine is Y/N’s favorite, and their go-to whenever they ordered take out.

  He told Charlie and Savannah that he absolutely hated himself, and that he was a horrible person, and everything that he said to Y/N were things that he is. He knows that what he said was wrong, and that there is no excuse for it, and not meaning them would not make him forget how broken his best friend looked.

  He’s spent all of today working with Booboo, avoiding Charlie and Savannah because he can’t stand the pity in their eyes for him.

  “You know, you should just apologize to her.” Savannah says, softly.

  He shakes his head. “She hates me. I know that. I know what I said is unforgivable.”

  “Owen, I’m a hundred percent sure that she could never hate you. I’ve known her for so long, so trust me on this.”

  “Well, I’ve known her longer, so trust me on this.”

  He lies on the couch he was sitting on and pulls out his headphones from his pocket.

  “Owen, come on –”

  “Just let me cry, Savannah. It’s what I deserve.”

  “That’s enough, Joyner. Get up.” Charlie says, walking up from behind them.

  “Leave me alone, Charlie.”

  “No. This is not you, all right?”

  “Maybe it is.”

  Charlie slaps him.

  “Dude! That hurt!”

  “That’s the point. Now come on, get up. You can either feel sorry for yourself and wallow in self pity for the rest of your life, or you can go to your best friend and apologize to her because you were a dick and tell her how you really feel and how you were jealous.”

  “She doesn’t –”

  Charlie slaps him again.

  “Dude, what the fuck!”

  “I’m so tired of seeing you mope. Mads, push him off the couch.”

  Madison scoffs. “I’m not gonna – OK, fine, don’t look at me like, Charlie, you’re so scary when you’re mad.” She grabs a handful of Owen’s shirt and drags him, but he gets up himself.

  “OK, fine! But I don’t know where she’s staying!”

  “Savannah will take care of that.”

  She nods. “I will. Just fix him, Charlie, okay? He looks fucking homeless.”

  “Hey!”

***

    Owen raises his fist above the white door in the white hallway of the very white hotel Y/N’s staying at. He pauses, taking a deep breath, but it’s hard because he’s feeling very anxious, and the white surroundings are making him lose it a little.

  He closes his eyes and builds up his courage. It’s hard because the person that usually makes him calm is the one making him nervous right now. Yet, he inhales a lungful of air, and knocks on the door.

  Knock’s not the correct word. He literally bangs on the door, the frustration rolling off of him in waves. His heart races in anticipation when he hears footsteps on the other side of the door which comes to a stop and Owen knows she’s checking the door hole, and wonders whether she’ll open the door now that she’s seen him.

  She does, and a little hope rises in his chest, and he thinks, or rather prays, that she doesn’t hate him. The door swings open, and she stands there, wearing a pink onesie and a nonchalant expression.

  “What do you want?” She asks, bitterly.

  “Everything’s so white, Y/N. How are you staying here?” He blurts out.

  She sighs, and proceeds to close the door, but Owen slides in, raising his hands. “Y/N. Please. Can I tell you something?”

  “Isn’t that all you’ve been doing since yesterday?” She snaps, closing the door behind him, and brushing by him during the action. Owen feels a flutter in his stomach at that.

  “I deserve that.” He admits, looking down at his shoes. “But please. Let me explain.”

  She walks away from him. “No. This time I’m talking.”

  She stares at him determinedly, and Owen gulps.

  “Yesterday – it was just another example of you… exploiting my weakness.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “You… I…” She trails off, and that determination fades from her eyes.

  At that moment, Owen notices her left hand, or rather the absence of a ring there.

  “Y/N, where’s your ring?”

  She smiles, sadly. “Don’t you understand? This is exactly what I’m talking about! You disapproved, and I broke it off! I broke it off with a perfectly good guy, and I broke his heart, Owen. Like you said I would. Like I’ve done to every other guy that was in my life.”

  She’s going too fast, he thinks. Finally, he says, “I – I don’t understand…”

  “Of course, you don’t! You never have and you never will! It’s you, Owen. You’re my weakness. You disapproved, and I… I called off the wedding. You weren’t completely right, Owen… I mean, I don’t care about Louis, about any other guy – but I care about you. I care about you the most, and that’s why I can never be in a relationship, and I never can get married. Your opinion, you mean more to me than anyone else, and it’s why I’ve spent the entirety of yesterday crying instead of doing anything!”

  Owen’s lips part, and he’s too scared to make anything out of Y/N’s words, because this time, he wouldn’t be able to handle the disappointment that usually comes after feeling hope about them.

  “Owen… I’m in love with you, and it’s breaking me inside.”

  Right now, Y/N’s face is damp with tears, but he’s frozen. He’s been waiting, waiting, waiting to hear those words and dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of this moment, but now that it’s happening, he doesn’t know what to do. Y/N scoffs. “Of course. Just… just see yourself out, okay?”

  She turns around, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and her movement is what breaks Owen out of his trance. He takes long strides towards her, and grabs her wrist, and the contact of her cold skin on his warm skin seems to shock the both of them.

  They stand mere millimetres apart, and finally Owen speaks, “Y/N. I was jealous yesterday.”

  Her eyebrows shoot upwards, and he continues, “I mean, Louis’ perfect! He makes me feel so insecure, because he’s clearly the better choice out of the two of us. Plus, you’ve always ignored my flirting, so I thought –”

  “Flirting? When?!” She asks.

  He loses it a little. “All the time! Dude! You’re the only person with whom I flirt! Like, I can’t even help it, it just happens –”

  “Are you saying that I’ve been oblivious –”

  “I thought – okay, never mind. Anyway. That doesn’t excuse what I said last day. I’m incredibly sorry, Y/N. I hope you know that I didn’t mean a single word that I said, and you’re the most caring person in my life, all right? You… you’ve always gone out of your way to be kind, and what I said was not true and not okay at all. I’m sorry. It was just years of frustration.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t been so daft, and said something earlier –”

  “I could say the same about you – okay, that’s not the point. The point is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yesterday, I’m sorry for ignoring you all these months because I was insecure –”

  “You ignored me because you were insecure about Louis? Clearly, you’re the superior person in my life.”

  “Y/N, have you seen his hair and his accent? Clearly not.”

  “Well, you do have a point. Still, you’re clearly more important to me.”

  Owen can feel her breath on his skin now. “I always do. Y/N. I’m in love with you, too. I’m also sorry that I’ve been an idiot –”

  “Well, in your defence, we’ve both been idiots.”

  He smiles at her and raises his right hand to caress the side of her face. She leans into the touch, closing her eyes for a second.

  “Say it again.” He whispers.

  “What?”

  “That you love me too.”

  “I love you. I love you. I love you, Ow –”

  He doesn’t let her finish, but instead cups her face with both of his hands, and presses his lips to hers, the familiar, homely sensation arising, yet again. She tastes like chocolate and everything sweet in the world. She smiles into the kiss, and when they pull apart for air, she whispers, “Never interrupt me like that again.”

  He grins, his thumb rubbing circles on her cheek. “Noted. And Y/N?”

  She hums in question, her eyes shining like stars.

  “I love you.”

  She smiles, and it lights up his world.

jatp requests open <3 as always, feedback is appreciated!

[megan-is-mia]

I need to tell you that you’ve managed to become one of my favorite twst writers in the span of a single evening. I spent the majority of last night reading all of your twst content. As a monster lover, I feel obligated to say thank you for all of the food. There is a fair amount of monster f*cker content in the twst fandom, but most blogs only have a small handful of monster stories. So when I saw the amount of monster content on your blog, I almost wept.

If you’re still taking requests from the monster prompt, how about 21 “Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you" with the Mer-trio?

(Wow... I did not realize people considered any of my content to be monster-fucker food. Anyways you wrote Mo21 in your request but the prompt you typed was for Mo20 so I did that one. Hopefully you still like it!) 20. “Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you” (Yandere! Octavinelle Trio x Fem! S/o)

Stormy nights were (Y/n)’s favorite kind of nights, nothing beat being wrapped up in a warm blanket, looking out her window at the rain falling and the occasional flashes of lightning that lit up the skies. The only thing that could even begin to compare to the wonder of stormy nights were the mornings that followed them, when the earth was still wet from the rain and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. 

You were sure to find something interesting outside after a storm. However, what (Y/n) found in her pool that following morning more than exceeded her expectations of something interesting. The winds from the storm had dropped debris into her pool making it look more like a sliver of ocean than part of suburbia. She began clearing the tree branches and other chunks of flora when something in the water grabbed her leg. A less brave soul would have called an exterminator or animal control at this point but (Y/n) did not, instead she retreated inside for the time being to start thinking up a plan of action. It wasn’t until night had fallen that she approached the pool again this time armed with a broom and a bag of fish she’d bought at the store the day of the storm. She tentatively poked the water with the broom and nothing happened. Then suddenly a webbed hand darted out of the water and yanked on the broom making (Y/n) drop the fish she was holding into the water as she tumbled into the pool with a gasp. As she sank under the surface she locked eyes with something that flashed her a toothy grin before it grabbed her and swam to the surface with her in its clutches. As she broke the surface of the water she was able to see there were at least two things in the water with her.

“Nee Jade the fish the human brought with her taste awful” the thing not holding (Y/n) said with a whine as it bit off the head of one a fish and swallowed it whole without chewing any further. The girl looked frantically between the two creatures trying to make sure she wasn’t just seeing double in the darkness. Nope, there really were two of them yet they looked eerily similar like twins. “Ehhh Floyd, if they taste so bad why are you still eating them?” the thing holding (Y/n) answered with a tilt of its head as its ear fins twitched with curiosity. The girl had to assume that Jade and Floyd must be the creatures’ names, not yet processing the information that there were literal talking fish-people in her pool. That knowledge would take a few more moments to sink in, at which point (Y/n) let out another gasp.   

“You?! You can talk?!” (Y/n) said her words spluttering out like water out of a clogged faucet. Her sudden words drew a laugh from both mermen and Floyd swam closer as he took another big bite of the fish he’d been chewing on. “Of course we talk shrimpy, what did you expect silly?” he said with a toothy grin even wider than the one Jade had given her when she’d been sinking down to the bottom of the pool. “Give her a little credit, Azul did give her quite a scare earlier when she was trying to remove the gunk and almost forced him out of hiding. I don’t think intelligent life was exactly what she was expecting to find after that” Jade said, his tone a mix of condescension and comforting as he hugged (Y/n) closer to his body. The girl’s mind was ready to short-circuit as a third voice joined the conversation. “I only did that so she’d stop digging around while other humans might be around to get involved” this third voice, the aforementioned Azul she guessed, said with only its head poking out of the water and no visible ear fins to be seen. However when (Y/n) looked down she could see masses of tentacles below Azul as well as the long eel-like tails that made up the bottom halves of both Floyd and Jade’s bodies. “I don’t feel so good” (Y/n) mumbled right before blacking out and going limp in Jade’s arms. When she came too she was lying on her side out of the pool with an eel-merman staring at her impatiently. It took her a moment to identify which one it was by which side his black hair streak fell and she finally said “Floyd?” to which the eel-mer grinned and nodded his head at her as she sat up. “Yep that's me Shrimpy, you gave us all a real scare by passing out like that” Floyd said his tone playfully accusing as (Y/n)’s eyes darted down to check if she’d really seen what she thought she’d seen. Yup, the young man still had an eel tail instead of legs and she hadn’t just imagined all of it. “Heeey my eyes are up here Shrimpy” Floyd said with a pout grabbing (Y/n)’s chin and forcing her to make eye-contact with him. “Sorry! I’m still getting used to the whole, merfolk are real, thing. I just wanted to see if you really did have a tail or not” (Y/n) said not liking the way Floyd’s nails pressed her skin making it clear he could crush her jaw like a grape if he put any pressure on his grip. Luckily her words brought a laugh from the eel-merman and he released her jaw before hauling himself up out of the water to sit next to her. “Wanna feel?” Floyd said, gesturing to himself with a grin. Tentatively (Y/n) nodded as she reached over and gently ran a finger down his tail. “Aww Shrimpy I barely felt that, do it again and put a little more elbow grease into it” the eel-mer said with a whine as he grabbed the girl’s wrist and placed her hand flat against his body. Obediently (Y/n) ran her hand down the male’s skin feeling the slightly slimy yet smooth quality of his tail under her fingertips. “You two look like you’re getting along nicely” Azul commented, swimming over to the pair and surprising (Y/n) out of the stupor she’d fallen under from petting the eel-mer so she almost tumbled back into the pool. The girl only just barely kept her balance this time to the amusement of both mermen. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you…” Azul trailed off, waiting for the young woman to provide her name. “(Y/n), I’m (Y/n)” (Y/n) said quickly. “I know this is an insensitive question but how’d you end up in my pool? I mean I’ve had a few crocodiles thrown in my pool by a particularly bad storm once or twice. That's what I thought I was dealing with before when I brought the fish. Just a few crocodiles, not three mermen and… I’m rambling sorry… This is just weird as hell for me” the girl said looking sheepishly off to the side. “Don’t worry this is an odd situation for us as well” Jade said having swum back over to the group partway through (Y/n)’s rant. “We’re not in the habit of showing up in random human pools, somebody just made a mistake with his potion mixing and accidentally summoned a tsunami that dropped us off here” the eel-mermaid added giving Azul a bit of side-eye, to which the octo-mer grumbled under his breath and pouted. “Regardless we’re kind of stuck here unless we can get the ingredients to make another potion to take us home or we get some outside help to transport us back to the beach and to the ocean” Jade said giving (Y/n) a meaningful look. The girl’s face scrunched up in thought, she didn't know these young men very well and she wasn’t sure she could trust them as far as she could throw them (which wouldn't be far). However, her sense of morality overcame her fear of strangers and she let out a reluctant sigh before speaking. “I’ll help you get back to the sea, I have a car but I don't know if you’ll all fit in it comfortably” (Y/n) said slowly, hoping that her offer might be turned down but that was wishful thinking. The mermen were all more than willing to risk the discomfort of being in her car in exchange for getting home faster. Somehow (Y/n) managed to get all of them into her car (though Floyd was purposely wriggly as a fish on a hook as she tried to set him on the backseat of her car) and began driving out of her quiet neighborhood towards the nearest patch of ocean. During the drive Azul told her about their underwater home, with the occasional comment from the twins, and she had to admit it sounded nice living in the Coral Sea. Eventually, she found a quiet spot of sand by the sea and parked the car before helping the boys out and back into the water. Floyd and Jade went easily enough but Azul seemed to need more help and (Y/n) found herself in waist-deep water before she knew what was happening. All of a sudden the octo-mer’s tentacles were laced around her legs and she was being dragged under as Azul shot forward into deeper water where the eels waited. “Sorry about this Angelfish. I would have preferred that you came to us of your own free will but we just couldn't wait anymore” Azul said, keeping a firm grip on (Y/n) with his tentacles as he swam towards Floyd and Jade who both grinned upon seeing that the octo-mer had been successful in grabbing the girl. Instinctively (Y/n) had tried to hold her breath when she was pulled under only to pass out from oxygen deprivation and wake up breathing water. “What do you think of your new gills? Pretty nice aren’t they?” Azul crooned, his tentacles still wrapped around (Y/n)’s body and tightening when she tried to struggle free of his hold. “Ah, ah, aw Angelfish there’s no need to fight I’m not gonna hurt you” the octopus-merman said in a gently scolding tone before raising his voice to alert the eels that (Y/n) had finally woken up. “Shrimpy’s gills are so cute! I almost wanna pull them and see if she screams” Floyd said excitedly pinching one of the delicate, lacey gill slits that now occupied (Y/n)’s neck. The girl let out a yelp of pain which brought out a laugh from the cruel eel-mer. “Now, now Floyd we can’t go pulling (Y/n)’s gills willy-nilly. Not unless she misbehaves that is” Jade commented running a finger along the other side of the girl’s neck feeling her gills for himself. “We’ve all had our eye on you for a while now Angelfish” Azul said bringing (Y/n)’s attention back on him again as he leaned in to kiss her softly. The feeling of the tweels’ hands over her gills ready to choke her, was the only thing that kept (Y/n) from fighting the kiss from the octo-mer. “The human world… it's just too harsh a place for a sweetheart like you. Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you” Azul added after a moment. “Plus the fact you’re really cute” Floyd added before smashing his mouth against (Y/n) and biting her lips as he kissed her hungrily. The girl whimpered into his mouth but her protests were all muffled by his tongue against hers until he finally pulled away grinning. “You probably won't see things our way at first but you will” Jade commented before he went in for a kiss softer than his twin’s but still rougher than the octopus’s. “After all we’ll have all the time in the world to change your mind…” THE END

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Baby, You’re Perfect

Pairing: BNHA Boys x reader

Warnings: Weight insecurity, negative body image/icky thoughts, body shaming from relatives, talks about skipping a meal once, general stuff like that. Kirishima’s reader is actively trying to lose weight. Cursing/language throughout (but mostly in Bakugou’s)

Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari

Author’s Note:

And here we have yet another request that is super old. I’m talking this has been chillin in my inbox for three good months. My sincere apologies, anon. And again, I’m sorry that that had to happen to you. Your grandma has no right to speak to you in that way. You’re making great progress and that’s amazing! Keep going strong, I believe in you. Anyhow, I had a lot of fun doing this request! We all need more chubby y/n on this website.

Yes, it says Hawks but I contacted the anon and we switched it to Denki bc I don’t write for Keigo (and we had a lovely conversation. they’re very nice :D). 

Also the first two insults are things that have actually been said/done to me irl (hehe tasty self projection) and the last one in Denki’s is from an episode from Tuca and Birdie (it’s a good show).

Anyway, be nice to people. Respect others and speak to them as equals. We’re all human beings here, trying to get by. We’re also like a month away from 2021, I shouldn’t have to say that >:(

Happy Thanksgiving!

-Sugar

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Bakugou:

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were tired of their faces, tired of their words. You were headed home early, and you would not be sorry.

You didn’t hate your family. They could just be a little . . . difficult sometimes.

At first, it had gone well. You’d arrived at your aunt’s house yesterday for a family gathering and met up with everyone. They’d hugged you and asked you how you were doing. They’d even asked after your pro hero boyfriend, who you had chosen not to bring along for the purpose of spending some quality alone time with your family.

But then it happened; the thing you’d been dreading, the type of comment you’d hoped against all things you wouldn’t hear this time. But there it was.

You were nearly done preparing for lunch, helping to place dishes of food out in the backyard for your family meal. Your aunt was starting to serve people food, and you happened to glance up to see one of your cousins making herself a plate.

“Do you want any more?” your aunt asked your cousin, ready with her ladle.

“No, thank you, I’ve got enough.” Your cousin flipped her long perfect hair over a perfectly narrow shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to get fat like—” her gaze wandered over to you, meeting your eyes pointedly, “—some people.”

You faltered. Had she really just said that? About you? Well, it wasn’t impossible that it would come from her, but seriously? Today?

You swallowed a lump that had started forming in your throat, setting down the new stack of paper plates. Your aunt shot you a pitying glance. Was she even going to say something? Would she call your cousin out on her words?

No. She just moved on. Moved on like you should have. But something about it stuck with you. Your cousin’s words and implications rang through your mind, making you feel sick to your stomach. You shouldn’t let it bother you this much. You were doing better, both with your habits and your confidence. So why did it hurt so bad?

The darker thoughts you’d kept at bay began to come back; you were worthless, you were ugly, you were undeserving. Why wouldn’t they stop? Why was your stomach churning and your hand shaking? Before you knew it, hints of tears began to prick at your eyes.

No.

You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing you this way. But you were no longer interested in staying, any sense of hunger leaving you for sick dread.

Next thing you knew, you had said an early goodbye and put your things in the car, headed back home. Maybe driving wasn’t the best idea, since now you were alone with your thoughts. But crying wasn’t worth it. It was a bad idea, especially since now was the time to focus on the road ahead.

You couldn’t have gotten home sooner, a sense of relief washing over you once you pulled into the driveway. You unlocked your front door, pulling your bags in behind you. You heard movement coming from the kitchen as you set everything down; the sound of the faucet turning off signaling to you that Katsuki had heard you come in.

Heaving a sigh, you tried to chase the negative thoughts from your head. They shouldn’t be there, and it wasn’t something to dwell on. You were home again, and you wouldn’t have to deal with your family for another few months at least.

Bakugou’s head peeked out from around the doorframe, double checking that it was you who had walked in. “What are you doing here?” he called, ducking back to whatever he’d been doing in the kitchen.

“Hello to you too.” You tried to keep the tartness out of your voice, but some of it must have crept back in. The sounds from the other room stopped again, and the house went eerily quiet. Huffing, you dragged your luggage into your shared bedroom.

You felt drained, that was the only way to describe it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hang your clothes in the closet. Giving up, you laid down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but hear your cousin’s words ringing over and over in your head, reminding you of the countless years of both internal and external torment you’d gone through regarding your weight.

The sound of footsteps in the doorway made you glance down, registering a spiky blond head of hair approaching you on the bed. You said nothing as the mattress dipped next to you, indicating that Bakugou had come up on your side.

The two of you were silent together for a long moment, and a stolen glance told you that Katsuki was mirroring you with his head resting on his arms as he stared at the blank ceiling.

“Are you going to tell me what’s got you in this mood?” he finally asked.

You sighed. “My cousin can just be a pain sometimes.”

“She the one you were telling me about or is it someone else?”

“Same girl.”

“Hmm.” Bakugou continued to keep his eyes trained solely up above. “What did she do this time?”

“Called me fat.” You tried to keep your voice even. You were simply stating a fact. It shouldn’t bother you like this, right? Even so, the tears you’d been forcing back once again rushed to your eyes, causing your tone to pitch. You swallowed them down again, blinking rapidly. This wasn’t something to spend time crying over.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Katsuki said, a little unhelpfully. “I don’t want to see you hating yourself.”

You frowned at this. “I don’t hate myself,” you said, thinking about your words for a moment before you spoke them. “I don’t hate my body. It’s just that . . . sometimes I wish it looked a little better, a little different. Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m enough as I am.”

“Don’t tell me you think you’d be happier looking like everyone else.” Bakugou’s gaze had shifted from a blank one to a glare.

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “It’s just . . . hard sometimes. Being like this.”

Finally Bakugou rolled to face you, taking one of your hands in his. “I know you . . . struggle with your self-image or whatever, but you can’t let it take over your life, got it? You can’t just waste it worrying about what everyone thinks of you. You’re never going to be able to please everyone, but if they’ve got a problem with you, then they can go fuck themselves. You want to know the one person’s opinion who matters most? Yours. You have to be the one who’s taking care of yourself.” Katsuki paused for a moment, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers as he considered his words.

“You want to know who’s opinion is the second most important?” he continued, his voice starting to get a little more mumbly. “Mine. I picked you because I love you. I love everything about you, from your shitty, annoying personality to your gorgeous body. You are so much more than just ‘enough’ for me, so don’t go worrying about that. You’re everything to me, and you know that, right? I love you no matter what, so don’t let this ruin your whole day.” He kissed your knuckles, signaling that he had said his peace.

You smiled at him, a tear or two finally sneaking past your defenses. “How—how do you do that?”

“What?”

“Sometimes you say something horribly stupid and I swear I hate you, and then next thing I know, you’re telling me everything I need to hear.”

“Tch, I can be eloquent whenever I want. It’s a choice.”

“Alright.” You rolled over so you could properly face him. “Can I have a hug?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but nevertheless held open his arms. You happily snuggled into the hard, built muscle enveloping you, offering a beautiful contrast to your own soft body.

“Do you need me to talk to your cousin?” Bakugou asked. “I’ll do it.”

“Nah, let her go.” You nuzzled your nose into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

______________

Kirishima:

You honestly expected your family to last longer when it came to keeping from upsetting you. Nevertheless, maybe you were being a little too optimistic. But come on, did they have to ruin everything the literal second you walked through the door?

Even after the scathing comment, followed by a half-hearted, hasty brushing off, you forced yourself to spend time with them. It wasn’t often that you got to see this half of your family, so you decided to ignore it with the rest of them.

But as you sat on the couch sipping tea, you were unable to focus on the light conversation buzzing around you. The event that happened mere minutes before played over again in your mind, causing you to wince.

You’d walked into the house, prepared to greet everyone and have a nice time, when your aunt looked up from her position on her arm chair. “Hello, (Y/N),” she’d begun. “Ah, look, you’re still fat.”

Your heart had almost literally stopped beating in your chest as you froze in the threshold. Had she just said what you thought you heard? You must have been mistaken, right?

Any positive anticipation you’d had of seeing your relatives had plummeted to your feet, and you strongly considered turning around in place and leaving without another word.

But you couldn’t do that, of course not. Then your aunt had begun to babble something about how it made you look cute like a baby, but her words had already done their damage.

You tolerated the rest of your afternoon with them, but it was a great relief to you when you were finally able to leave and go home. As soon as you pulled into your driveway, you exhaled a sigh of relief. It was over with, and it hadn’t been that bad.

Eijirou wasn’t home, but you knew he wouldn’t be long after you. You went about making dinner, knowing he’d appreciate it once he got home. He was always so tired these days.

Even so, as you stirred broth in a pot, your aunt’s words rang in your head. You vaguely remembered telling her about your weight loss a month ago. You figured you’d been making considerable progress, and you knew that no one was more proud of you than Eijirou himself. But had it really made a difference?

After a moment of fretting, you turned off the stove. You walked into your shared bedroom, flicking on the light. Your eyes caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. You frowned, going up to it. Turning your body this way and that, you tried to see if you recognized a change in your appearance. You lifted your shirt, only to wince at yourself and tug it back down. You pinched at your arms, your thighs, and your cheeks, growing almost angry at the way your fingers sunk into the flesh.

Maybe you hadn’t been making as much progress as you’d thought. Or the progress you had made wasn’t enough. Without you even realizing it, your mind began to toy with ways to speed things up. Guiltily, you found yourself wondering if Eijirou would notice if you just skipped dinner that night.

You shook your head to clear away the intrusive idea. No, that wouldn’t solve anything. Eijirou had told you that he’d help you lose weight the right way, so you’d stay healthy and be able to keep it off. It would be best to listen to him.

Still, you found your eyes glued to your reflection. You wouldn’t consider yourself vain, but there was something in the way that your eyes traced over your curves, wondering just how they might look on you if only you were a little smaller . . . .

Movement behind you in the mirror caught your eye, and you were quick to recognize a head of spiky red hair. You must not have heard Kirishima come in through the front door.

“Hello,” you said with less cheer than usual.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you, coming up from behind to give you a hug.

You leaned back into his chest as you both stared at each other’s reflections.

“Checking out my perfect girlfriend?” he teased, referring to how your eyes continued to trace down your body. “That’s my job, you know.”

You snorted, gently rubbing at his forearm.

“So how was your family?”

“Okay,” you shrugged.

“I saw you left something on the stove. Are you doing okay?”

Oh, Kirishima. How did he do it?

You shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really have a good time there. Got a little upset is all.”

Eijirou frowned. “What happened?”

You took one of his hands in yours and began to play with his fingers, now determined to keep your eyes from catching another glimpse of yourself. “My aunt told me I was fat.”

You missed the flash of genuine anger that shot through Kirishima’s eyes. He knew this was something you’d struggled with for a long time. Your aunt had no business making comments like that about your body, especially now.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, deciding to keep himself calm for your sake.

You continued to fiddle with his large hands. “I just worry sometimes that I’m not doing enough,” you mumbled. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m just meant to look like this?” You sniffled, hating the sudden tears that were beginning to fill your eyes.

“Honey . . .” Eijirou spun you around and held you to his chest, running a hand down the back of your head as you finally let the tears slide down your face. You nuzzled into his shirt, appreciating the warm, familiar feeling of it. “Even if you weren’t able to lose more weight, you know I’d still love you, right?” he said in a tender voice. “I’d think you’re beautiful either way.”

He tilted your chin up so he could look into your eyes, giving you one of the most loving gazes you’d ever seen. “And besides, we’re not together because of how you look. I love you for you. I love your personality, and how you always say and do the cutest things.” He bent down for a quick kiss, caressing your cheek as he pulled away. “I love your laugh, and I love looking into your beautiful eyes . . . .” He kissed you again, beginning to gently guide your bodies to the bed at the other wall.

Eijirou laid you down in the center of the mattress, hovering over you as he went in for another kiss. “I love your body too. This body, just the way it is. I love how it feels to hold you at night—” he kissed your neck. “—I love your chest, your butt, your arms, your thighs—” he nuzzled his nose against your face and neck. “—your cute tummy.” He pushed himself up and gazed down at it with such a genuine expression of love, you almost started tearing up again. “The cutest tummy in the world. And I love it because it’s yours.”

With that, he bent down again and lifted up your shirt just enough to give it a little kiss. You couldn’t help but let a giggle slip from your lips, which only made his ruby red eyes dart up to meet yours mischievously.

“You like that? What if I did it . . . again!” He placed a second kiss in a different spot, going for another and then another. You broke out into laughter, the sensation of his lips and nose brushing over your sensitive skin making you squirm in his hold.

Soon, he was laughing himself. He nuzzled into your skin one last time and blew a raspberry against your skin.

“Eiji—!” you began to protest through a laugh.

“What?” He smirked at you, moving up and settling his chin in the valley of your chest.

You smiled right back at him, bringing up your hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his cheek. “I love you.”

Kirishima took hold of your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles as he looked into your eyes. “I love you too, baby.” He held your hand in his, getting lost for a moment simply looking at your face.

Eventually he sat up, laying down next to you and pulling you into his chest. “I’m proud of you too,” he told you, tucking your head under his chin. “I know you’re actively making a change for the better, and you’re doing really well. Results won’t happen immediately, you just have to stick with it sometimes.”

You sighed through your nose, taking his hand in yours again. “I know. I just get discouraged sometimes is all.”

“And I’ll just be here to put you back on track. You’ve got this, you know.” He hugged you tight against him, rubbing your back. “Are you hungry?” he finally asked. “I’ll help you make dinner.”

“Sure,” you said, chuckling lightly.

“What? We both have to eat, and you know me. I’m a hungry shark.”

You laughed again, leaning up to kiss his jaw.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Well, there’s always more where that came from.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m here for you, okay?”

______________

Kaminari:

If there was one thing Denki hated more than anything, it was seeing you upset. 

He could tell something was off the moment you came through the front door. You were too quiet, and that bothered him. When you finally made it up to your shared room, Kaminari was already watching the doorway for you.

He noticed immediately that your eyes were puffy and a little red. Even your posture looked defeated and slumped over.

“Hey, Denks,” you said once you noticed him stretched out on the bed. His heart broke even further when he saw you try for a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” Kaminari got up, clearing the space between you so he could put his hands on your shoulders.

“I—I just,” you began to stammer out, feeling the flimsy dam you’d placed behind your eyes begin to falter. “I . . . don’t know if I want to talk about it right now.” You covered your burning face with your palms. “It’s stupid anyway. I shouldn’t let things like that get to me.”

Kaminari frowned, trying to figure out what might have made you so upset. But he wasn’t one to pry when it came to situations like these, and he knew you’d tell him on your own time.

Even so, he led you to where he’d once taken position on the bed, pulling you up with him. He knew that sometimes you simply wanted to be distracted from things, so he decided to do just that. Allowing you to settle in next to him, he picked his controller up from the covers again where he’d set it down.

You noticed he’d been playing Minecraft. You let yourself take a mild interest in his mining session that you caught him in the middle of. You watched him wander through a cave system; placing torches, killing the occasional zombie, and mining out various ores he happened upon.

What you didn’t see was how often he shot you glances, studying your face for any signs of you getting upset again. He saw when you finally took your eyes off his screen, frowning distantly as you twisted the material of the blanket underneath you.

Before he could ask you again what was going on, you opened your mouth to speak. “Do you think this outfit is too much?”

Denki faltered, confused. “No? What do you mean by that? I think you look really pretty.”

You pursed your lips. Clearly that wasn’t the answer you’d wanted. “I just—I don’t know.” You frowned and went back to avoiding his eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?” Denki asked. A sudden idea struck him. Before you could answer him again, he stood up on the bed and walked over to a shelf you kept just above it. He pulled down a large stuffed Pikachu he’d gotten you a few years ago, and went back to sitting next to you. “Would it be easier to tell him?”

Denki positioned the toy in his lap, grabbing hold of its little arms and letting it go through various motions, starting with a little wave at you.

You couldn’t help but snort at Kaminari’s antics, looking from the plushie to the curious but concerned expression on your boyfriend’s face.

“Your Pikachus are worried about you.” Denki lifted it up higher on his chest, continuing to fidget and wave the arms back and forth in a little dance. “You saw your family today, right? How did that go?”

Your face fell again and you shrugged. “It went well I guess. My grandma just said something dumb and it made me upset.”

Denki frowned, lifting the arms of the Pikachu so its hands were on its pink cheeks. “What did she say?”

You shrugged again. “I was messing around with my cousins and I said I looked like a snacc. And then she said that snacks were probably what made me so fat in the first place.”

Denki’s frown deepened. “That’s not very nice.”

“I don’t think she knew what I was talking about, to be fair. And maybe it’s a little funny. I mean, she’s not wrong.” You rested your chin in your hands, sighing. “It just caught me off guard. It’s a dumb thing to be upset over, like I said—”

“Hey.” Denki met your eyes. “It’s not dumb. You have every right to be upset.” He held his arms open to you. “Come here.”

You sat up, letting him embrace you.

“Do you need me to remind you how beautiful you are and how much I love you?” he asked from next to your ear. “Because I’ll do it.”

He took your shy smile as a yes, letting you settle back as he proceeded to lift up the stuffed yellow toy.

“Are you hearing this, bro?” he addressed it, throwing a serious look on his face. “The most gorgeous person on the planet is sad. We have to do something about it.”

Denki put the Pikachu’s paw on its chin, tapping it for a second before removing it again. “What’s that?” he asked it. “You have an idea?”

He lifted the toy to his ear, pretending to listen to it for a moment as he nodded along. Once he was satisfied, Denki scooched himself even closer to you. He brought Pikachu’s nose up to your cheek and made a kiss sound with his lips. Setting the toy down beside you on the bed, he motioned for you to come sit in his lap.

You obeyed, settling yourself in between his thighs and wrapping your legs around his hips.

“There you go,” he muttered, slotting his nose beside yours as he touched foreheads with you. “I love you and you’re the most important person in my life. You know that, right?” He waited for you to nod before continuing. “And I know that you can feel a little insecure sometimes with how you look. You’ve got bad days, and you have good days. It’s my job to be there for you on these bad days, and you can be there for me when I have mine. I want you to know that you’re so beautiful and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

He connected your lips to his for a long moment, trying to convey all his feelings for you into it. “And don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re less-than. They’re not the kind of person you should be listening to. Trust me when I say that you’re perfect just being you.” Denki wiped a tear trail off your cheek with his thumb, leaning in to kiss the skin there. 

“Thanks, Denki,” you said, your voice just above a whisper.

He gave you a soft, caring smile; his fingers still lingering on your cheek. “Is there anything you want to do together to make you feel better? We could watch a movie, we could snuggle, whatever you want.”

You leaned in and hugged him tight. “I love you.”

He hugged you back. “I love you too. You’re my sunshine nugget, and it would take a heck of a lot to ever change that.”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @fourteenow​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​​ @nabo39​ @onepieceask​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @xoxopam4​​ 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

i'm fucking losing it about that most recent post and i cannot get coherent words out about it because i get too excited about the possibilities and it is extremely hard to type while flapping but !!! oh my god!!!! oh my godd!!!!!!!!!

CW: Opening to what is definitely going to be a severe trauma response in the next piece, brief victim-blaming language

Jake watches the video, and Laken can't read his expression at all. It's grim, maybe - his jaw is set, and his blue eyes don't leave the laptop screen.

Youtube starts with a stupid fucking State Farm car insurance ad, and Jake is quiet and thoughtful before the ad even ends. He didn't argue with Laken, or suggest disbelief. He only texted come to the house and show me while C is at rehearsal, and Laken had hopped on two buses and walked half a mile, but here they are, now, only a little sweaty for their efforts.

Laken hunches over next to him, their hands over their mouth, thick wavy black hair falling over their eyes. They'd re-shaved the sides yesterday and the air moved over the shorn-short spaces as the fan turned overhead.

They don't speak. They just watch Jake watch Tristan Higgs dance. They watch Antoni, Chris's other brother, sit quietly on Jake's other side, his own dark eyes equally fixed on the screen. When the video ends, Jake hits the replay button and watches it again.

And again.

"This video is from eight years ago," He finally says. His voice is a deep rumble, barely a sound human ears can hear. “I mean, the dancing is from eight years ago.”

Laken swallows and nods. "Um, y-yeah. So he would be-"

"Fifteen," Jake finishes for them. "Give or take. If he's as old as I think he is. And this guy seems pretty fucking sure that Tristan Higgs is dead."

"Right." Laken swallows, uncomfortable. "So, Ben-... You remember Ben. He's, um. Been looking stuff up, and... He sent me some links to, like, old news articles, and... Um..."

"What is in the articles?" Where Jake's voice is rough-edged, struggling for control, Antoni's voice is soft, hazy with his accent, sliding over consonants and coasting the vowels. "What is he sending?"

"So, um, like... This double-... Uh, double-murder and stuff. These people that were killed and just, like, their kid survived, Tristan Higgs. Except then he disappears-... just drops off the face of the earth. But no obit or anything.”

Jake and Antoni look at each other, the men sharing an expression that communicates a wealth of information Laken isn't privy to. But the one thing they don't show is any surprise.

"-and... Ben's been messaging the guy that posted the video, and-... They're gonna meet, um, in a couple days. At, you know where La Mode is? The ice cream place where they filmed that bit in that old Vince Shield movie-"

"I know where La Mode is, yeah," Jake says, watching Laken carefully. He hasn't looked at them like this in a long time, since he first met them - calculating and slightly cold, considering the risk they pose to Chris and to everyone else in his house.

"I also am knowing that place," Antoni says with a nod, putting a hand on Jake's arm. Jake is tense - Laken didn't realize it until he suddenly relaxes, consciously, now. "Why is Ben wanting to talk to this man?"

"I, I don't know. He kind of, he's really intense about this stuff. You know, when he found out Chris was, um, was... a pet..." The word is ash on their tongue, gums up around their teeth, makes their stomach flip in disgust. "... He kind of lost his shit once we got Chris calm about it. I think he thought-... Uh, you know, people like Chris, they get targeted, and... so he's been thinking about that.”

“This isn’t his business, Laken,” Jake says, weary, closing his eyes.

“No, I know, but he's got a little brother who's the same age Chris was when-... this video must have been made. Who’s a lot like him. So I think he's... I don't know. Maybe thinking, you know, if it was his brother, he’d want someone to do all this... if-... if someone took his brother away."

"Yeah, I get it." Jake swallows, sitting up slowly, rubbing at his face. He's got a day-old stubble along his jaw, the kind that made Laken grin a little when they saw the rubbed-red, irritated jawline of the guy with black hair who answered the door, Chris's other brother kind of.

The one that Laken met the night Dylan told Ben and them where Chris really came from. Except... not this. Dylan hadn't known this.

"So, we need to get Chris ready-"

"Get me ready for, for, for what? Laken, why, why are you here?"

Laken closes their eyes and lets out a slow, soft sigh. Of course - the one night they needed Chris's rehearsal to run full-length is the one night he comes back early. They turn to look at Chris and give him a slight smile. "Hey, querido, we just, um-... So, there's..."

The video has still been playing in the background, forgotten, and the music kicks into the crescendo where the second gymnast steps up, catching Chris's attention. "What's, what's that? Is, is, is, is is is it-"

He goes silent as Tristan Higgs steps into place, shoots his bright smile towards Akio Nakamura, and does his first set of flips and spins.

The three of them watch Chris watching Tristan Higgs. They watch his backpack slide off his shoulder and thump to the ground. They watch his eyes - the perfect match to the eyes of the boy on the screen - follow Tristan and Akio dancing briefly back to back, his laughter as he drops his head onto Akio's shoulder.

Something in the line of his shoulders tightens. His skin is pale under the freckles, his hair suddenly seems too garishly bright against the rest of him. There are shadows under his eyes Laken has never seen before. He looks younger... and haunted.

They hold their breath until it ends, the two boys hugging and laughing, Tristan bouncing and rocking and flapping ecstatically when the routine went off without a hitch.

The video cycles to the next one, a different set of Nakamura's. Chris blinks and then looks at the three of them, eyes moving from one to the next. "Why... are you watching... that?"

His voice shifts, change, slips into a drip-drop of words, a slowly leaking faucet language that Laken barely understands when compared to his usual mile-a-minute. He stands perfectly still.

Once again, Jake and Antoni aren't surprised.

"Chrisha," Antoni says, gently. Jake's jaw works, maybe fighting for words that don't come. "That is you, we think. You were... are Tristan Higgs."

Chris's eyes move to Antoni. Then back to Jake. "No," He says, simply. "I'm... not."

"Chris?" Laken feels a wash of uncertainty. "Are you okay? We're pretty sure this is you."

Chris stares right through Laken, eyes empty, full of a kind of fog all their love can't break through. "No, I, I'm not. I'm... not him."

Jake is the one to push himself to his feet first, taking Chris gently by the arm to walk him back towards the doorway. "Chris-"

"I'm... not, not him," Chris says, looking up at Jake, up and up and up. "I'm... not, Jake."

Chris, Laken's sunshine boy, their love and light and life, is a dull bit of broken rock, sodden earth after too much rain, the sooty stumps of trees in an empty wildfire-wrecked field.

"I know it's hard," Jake says, folding Chris into his arms, and Laken watches with a twist of something that isn't quite jealousy, but isn't that far off. Chris will always turn to Jake, first. They can't compete with that - they don't want to, even, they just sort of wish they could. "I know, Chris. But Laken's right, this kid... I think that might really be you."

"No," Chris whispers, burying his head into Jake's chest. "No, no, no. I'm... not. I, I make myself, I made Chris, I don't want to, to, to to to-to be anyone else anymore..."

"You're still Chris," Jake murmurs, and holds him close. "You're still my brother. This just tells us maybe a little bit about what happened before I met you, that's all. That's it, Chris. Nothing has to change."

"Everything changed," Chris whispers, pulling slowly back. "Because I, I did it wrong. I, I, I moved, wasn't... I was, was supposed to hide... and, and be so quiet..." His hands move, one finger up to his lips, as though shushing himself. The empty look in his eyes is cracking open to a well of pain that Laken, for all the times they've held him after nightmares and all the meltdowns they've seen... They've never seen it quite like this. 

He pulls away from Jake, and slowly picks his backpack up from the floor.

"Chris?" Laken shifts forward, but the look on his face when he glances back at them makes them stop short. "Baby, I-"

"Go... home, Laken," Chris says, and turns away from them. "Tris, Tristan Higgs is, is, is, is dead. He, he, he... he he-... he, k-... killed people, and he’s, he’s, he’s dead.” 

He's gone, his feet heavy on the stairs, before Laken can say another word.

Jake and Antoni glance at each other - another immense conversation contained in a single shared look - and then Jake sighs. "Come in, Laken. I'll drive you back to campus. Ant, if you'll-"

"Watch the house and speak to Chrisha. Got it." Antoni gives Laken a soft, sympathetic smile. "These things are not easy," He says, softly. "You cannot pick yourself back up again, simple as that, start a story where you were left off. I will speak with him."

"But, I should-"

"You'll make it worse," Jake says, rough-edged again.

"Harder," Antoni gently corrects. "He will need us, who know what it is they do to our minds, tonight."

"Wh-what do they do?” Laken looks from one of the men to the other. “I, I know memory loss, I get that, and he was clearly-... hurt, so much, but-”

“They take a frightened man-... or, child,” Antoni says, voice gentle as always. “And they teach us that the person we were before was so terrible that the person we are now exists only to suffer.”

“But he’s just a kid, there, in that video,” Laken says, a token protest, voice weak. Antoni’s smile widens, slightly, in its sympathy for them. “There’s no kid on earth who could possibly deserve that. He doesn’t even remember what happened!”

“You do not have to remember a crime to be told you are responsible for it.”

“But-”

Antoni takes their hands in his, looking them right in the eyes. “When you are alone, and frightened, and desperate to survive... you will believe anything that gives you the slightest chance for a way out.”

Laken swallows, hard, thinking of Chris whispering after a nightmare one night, they made me a Romantic pet because I was a slut who wanted it all the time - their sunshine boy, who never ever does, effortlessly believing a lie, repeating back the names they called him, acting unbothered and like he barely noticed his own words.

Laken swallows back a flip of disgust at the idea of a teenager being taught to hate himself that way. 

“Wh-what happens if he remembers everything they made him forget?” Laken’s voice is a whisper.

“If we’re lucky,” Jake says gruffly, “He doesn’t remember it all at once. If we’re not-”

A wail shatters their conversation, a low keening cry from upstairs, muffled by distance and closed doors, a sound of wild screaming wordless grief. All three of them flinch as there’s a resounding crash and a slammed door.

“If we not, that happens,” Jake says, and he’s on his feet and up the stairs before Laken can remind him that he’d said he would take them home. They move to stand, but Antoni lays a hand on their arm.

“Jake, first,” He says softly. “It is easy to be overwhelmed, in these moments. Jake first, and then you.”

What they feel now is definitely a little bit jealousy.

And guilt.

Chris’s screaming, his misery and pain, seems to go on forever, twist itself into the walls of the house and burrow in. Antoni leaves to comfort frightened people who stick their heads out of doors and ask what’s going on, people Laken doesn’t know and has never been introduced to. They look at Laken, consider them, and Antoni speaks to them with soft reassurance while Laken feels helpless, and hopeless, and pointless in this house full of hurting people, while their own hurting person finds comfort in his brother, not in them.

They turn back to look at Jake’s laptop, sitting alone and watching a group of gymnasts hugging after getting their scores, laughing.

The title dates it as a year after the dancing video.

By the time this one was filmed, Tristan Higgs was already gone.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp  , @finder-of-rings  , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure  , @slaintetowhump  , @astrobly  @newandfiguringitout  , @doveotions  , @pretty-face-breaker  , @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @moose-teeth  , @cubeswhump  , @cupcakes-and-pain  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary  @orchidscript

[terrietont]

Undertale: A life for a life

When Toriel accidently kills Frisk mid-battle, a devious flower takes control unwarely creating hope among monster-kind for all except one.

Chapter 1: Murder

Shaking, she washed the blood off her paws,It’s crimson red staining her fur. Tears ran down her face endlessly. She couldn’t stop them. There were too many. Her eyes fogged up, barely a blur left in her vision.

Her whole body felt numb as a lump caught in her throat.

‘This isn’t real...’ She thought. ‘This can’t be real!’

Her lips quivered as her breathing quickened. Short inhalations and exhalations, in and out moving at the speed of sound. Her heart was burning against her chest, as if it were about to burrow through her entire body and escape. The numb feeling enveloped her entire body but at the same time the pure and agonizing pain of her heart pulsed against her very soul.

She had done this.

Her mind wandered into dark corners as the water from the faucet continued to flow. Memories flooding back into the dark abyss of her now empty heart. Horrible memories of what she had done.

The boss monster held her breath as the she turned off the tap. She leaned her hands agains the sink, looking down at the floor. Her chest moving up and down slowly. The disbelief of the situation made her dizzy. A bellowing cry escaped the former queen’s snout. She held her wet paws across her face, sobbing uncontrollably.

Toriel kneeled down onto the floor, holding her face tightly, a deep pained frown. Tears ran onto the floor. Sobs accompanied with hiccups escaped.

She realized something horrific as she held her breath.

“I really am no better than him after all” she smiled almost feeling like she was losing her mind. A another wail of horror escaped.

The grief. The tragedy. The horror of what she had done.

It was all true. She had killed the child. The one child that had trusted her enough to call her “mother” and now they had to be buried next to the first human.

A red glowing heart. An aura of red enveloped it. She could barely keep her eyes adjusted to the blinding beams.

The soul was still in tact for now, soon it would crack and disappear. What choice did she have now?

Her paws merely lay under the soul as it hovered above them.

She placed the soul inside a basket-like container, it’s visual presence undetected.

The only proof she had to be seen were the tear stains across her cheeks and the shaking of her limbs.

“I’m a murderer...” she uttered. Toriel leaned her head in her hands, hiding her face.

Flashbacks of her battle with the child enveloped her brain. She couldn’t fathom what she really had done. All the emotional distress was beating her physical form into pieces. She thought she would turn to dust any minute now.

“Hee hee Hee” a voice cackled. Startled, she looked towards the origin of the laughter. It was a flower. A white buttercup with yellow petals and a wide sinister grin. The flower top sat, resting on a thin green stem.

“You really think no one would find out about this?” Flowey laughed with an evil smirk.

Toriel hurriedly got up from her chair and put her hands out in a desperate gesture. “No please it was an accident!” She cried. Flowey’s grin widened.

“Accident? Haha! I KNOW you did it on purpose to try and “protect” the child.” Flowey leaned closer towards the former queen. His eyes going black with white pupils.

“Now look what’s happened...” He began, his voice echoing with poison.

“They’re dead.” Horrifyingly, Flowey’s face managed to mimick a human skull shape.

Toriel tripped backwards, chair falling behind her. Tears began running down her face again.

“Spare me your self pity!” Flowey seethed.

“YOU did this. This is all your fault!” He teased. “And after you tried not to be like him...” Flowey cocked his head to the side with a mocking tone from his mouth.

The reality finally set in. Toriel fell to her knees. “You are right. I am like him.” She wept.

“What are you going to do now huh?” Flowey asked mockingly. “Are you going to continue crying until you dry out into a sobbing excuse of a queen?” His voice was laced with venom as he spoke.

“Or are you going to go to the Asgore and tell him you’re just the same as him and expect forgiveness?”

“Or what if I take the soul instead? You won’t have to worry about it at all!” Flowey laughed. At this point Toriel was holding her head in anguish.

Thoughts, grieving, worries, all of it was swimming around her brain. Her body felt numb.

“No no no no no no no no!” She repeated hysterically. “No NO NO NO NO!” Her tone began to darken, her eyes going almost pure white.

Flowey began to feel uneasy, whether it was the absolute state of Toriel or the fact that the temperature was begining to pick up in the room, he didn’t know. “Shut up already!” He barked at her angrily.

Memories came flooding back for the Queen. A son, a child... a tragedy. “No!” She cried, fire surrounding her this time.

“Asriel... I’m sorry...” She shuddered looking at Flowey. Flowey frowned, his eyes growing with anger. “Shut up! Don’t you dare use that name!” He barked angrily.

Toriel let out a light chuckle, tears running down her cheeks, her eyes now looking bloodshot.

“My child, do not worry”

Flowey growled, gnashing his teeth. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

The Flowey looked towards the basket where the human’s soul was kept in. Vines burst out from the ground as they grabbed hold of the basket, taking the red soul inside.

“Haha!” Flowey cackled evilly. He took hold of the soul in his vines. He smiled deviously.

However without anyone’s knowledge, the soul began to glow brighter, moving closer to the flower. Flowey looked confusedly at it before feeling a sudden burst of energy rush through him. As if it still had the child’s sentience from before, the soul itself had chosen Flowey as it’s host without him even trying.

The power of this determination, the most powerful soul Flowey had ever felt. It rushed through his non existent body so fast and strong he felt almost overwhelmed.

The flower collapsed, dangling from his stem.

This soul was amazing. A power unlike any other. This child was stronger than anyone he had ever seen.

Asriel Dreemurr’s emerald eyes lit up.

A paw reached out to the grieving mother who was on her knees, unable to focus on anything.

“Mom?” The sad voice called out. Toriel turned slowly. What she saw caused the flames to die out.

“Asriel...?” The words were dry on her tongue, as if she didn’t know what she was actually saying.

Asriel looked down at his paws in shock. “I-I- I’m-“ before he could finish he felt a hard squeeze around his entire body. The shuddering mess that was his mother embraced him tightly. The warmth and relief of the hug filled the prince’s eyes with tears.

“Mama...” he cried out soflty. “Mama!” Another cry as he held her tighter. “My baby!” Toriel cried with exasperation.

As he embraced his mother, he felt a warmth in his soul and heard a voice, soft and echoing yet strange.

“Hello” the voice spoke. “I’m sorry” they said soflty. Asriel didn’t know how to respond, especially with the grief of his mother holding him tightly.

“Where’s dad?” Asriel’s tone was more upbeat, but his mother’s reaction was rather downcast. “In the castle.” She replied, hiding her disgust.

“Can we please see him?...” Asriel asked soflty.

Toriel hesitated. She really did not want to see Asgore again, but for the sake of their child, she would swallow her pride and anger for now.

“If you wish, my child.”

Without being spotted, Toriel and Asriel made their way through the underground and towards the capital. Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes were watching them from a camera view.

Alphys’s eyes widened. She nearly spat out her noodles all over the computer monitor. “O-oh my god! There’s THREE of them?!” She bellowed.

Asgore was busy minding his own buisiness, watering flowers.

“Dum dee dum” he sang.

Toriel entered the throne room, dreading the voice in front of her, whilst squeezing Asriel’s hand.

Asgore turned around surprised after hearing someone clear their throat to get his attention. “Oh? Is someone there?”

“Howdy! How can I-“ The king backed away a few steps. “Oh my...” he saw his son’s face, his Ex Wife’s patient smile. It all came flooding out.

“M-my boy...” Asgore weeped with a smile. Asriel ran straight to him, beaming with relief. “Dad!” The two embraced longingly. “Tori... you-“ Asgore began looking at the Ex Queen who was frowning worriedly. “Please do not Tori me Dreemurr!” She groaned exasperated.

“Mom please!” Asriel begged, holding tightly onto his father.

“I-I am sorry I just- how did-“ Asgore was at a loss for words, he didn’t know how his son came back, but he did. He was here and that’s all that mattered.

The horror stricken reality sunk into her. She tried to be angry, she tried to be dismissive and show no emotion but she fell to her knees yet again. Her sins were weighing her down heavily.

“I-I cannot take this any longer!” She cried. Asgore looked towards her, stunned and worried. “Toriel...” he uttered soflty.

“I have- I am-“ She hiccuped, feeling completely nauseated by the very words that she would have to say.

Asriel looked horrified as he realized what she was scared of. His soul. This soul... how did he get this in the first place?

He couldn’t remember and yet it was all about to be revealed.

“I have murdered...” Toriel uttered breathlessly. “

The king was taken aback. He couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. She had done something that he had done in the past to make her leave him? If he was unreasonable, he would’ve called her out, he would’ve been angry as to see she had taken the same path as him. But he stood there in shock, concern, fear. He loved her too much to let her feel the pain he had felt once.

“It is going to be okay...” He tried inching closer to her. Her eyes snapped away from him, pushing him back. “Get away from me!” She screamed. Unlike her usual anger towards him, this anger was a mask. A mask hiding pain and grief. This was an obvious mask it wasn’t to keep him away from her... it was to keep her away from anyone.

“I do not deserve your pity...” She seethed, her eyes turned away from him. Her fangs showed, angry and depressed. “After what I did” She began.

Asgore was confused now. She had said she was a murderer, but how so? Who had she killed? How was Asriel alive again? All of these questions plagued his brain.

“Please. You need to tell me.” He urged sternly, paws out in front of him.

“Take care of Asriel. I- I am going home” Her voice was meek and low. She had walked out of the throne room. Asgore desperately wanted to run after her, but he knew that would do more harm than good.

Asriel however was not going to give up so easily. “Mom!” He shouted.

He ran to her as her pace continued ever faster.

“Mom please!”

“Go away!” She yelled back, running away faster. Asriel was able to keep up, getting closer but remaining at a distance. “They know it wasn’t your fault!” He yelled.

Toriel stopped running and stood still, her face hidden from view. By now the two were by the caste hall, an eerie silence washing over them.

“I can feel their soul talking to me.” Asriel continued.

No response. “They say that... you have always been a good mother despite what you did today. They say they love you still”

Slowly, Toriel’s head began to turn back around. “Asriel.” She began.

“Asriel!” Asgore’s voice echoed towards the hallway. He rushed over to his son. “My son?” Asriel looked up at Asgore, glossy eyed. “Dad.” He murmured.

Toriel inhaled sharply and then turned and continued running. “Mom!” Asriel yelled out, a large white paw grabbing his arm, his other arm reaching outwards. “You must let her go, son...” Asgore sighed sadly.

“I’m sorry” he looked down at his child. Asriel’s breathing quickened. All he wanted was to have the family back together again, as happy as before. He was so tired of being a flower, he was so tired of being conflicted between two worlds.

Word got out that the prince of the underground was alive once more. The absolute shock and confusion swept over the citizens. How was this possible? Only Asriel truly knew.

“I hope the bed is as comfy as you remember” Asgore smiled down at Asriel who had himself tucked into his old bed. New home was less silent than it had once been.

“Thank you dad” he smiled in response. Asgore sighed deeply, smiling warmly. “If you need anything, let me know, alright?” The king looked over at his son who was making himself more comfortable in bed. “Will do” and with that, Asgore left the room quietly. His footsteps fading from earshot. Asriel stared up at the ceiling, his breathing slow.

“What do we do now?” He asked. A voice responded. “Are you awake?” A child’s voice asked in an echod trance. Asriel rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” He replied sarcastically. The child chuckled a little, the voice sounding less like a bad thought and more like some kind of weird guardian Angel.

“I just wanted to let you know... I’m okay like this.” The child’s soul admit. Asriel paused in thought for a moment. He couldn’t imagine a world in which living inside someone else’s body as a soul was a good outcome.

“Really, I am.” The soul spoke almost immediately after Asriel thought about it. The young monster’s eyes widened. “A-are you reading my thoughts?” He asked nervously. The soul chuckled almost in a naughty manner. “Maybe...”

Asriel groaned and lay on his side, ear squishing against the pillow. “Great... now I can’t even think without having my privacy invaded.”. “I promise I won’t look into anything personal!” The soul replied almost frantically. “You better not okay? I’m trusting you on this!” Asriel bit his lips.

“You can trust me, friend!” The voice replied, it sounded as if they were smiling as well. “Are we a team?” Asriel asked impatiently. “We’re a team!” The soul answered enthusiastically. Asriel couldn’t help but smile. This soul was warm and comforting. Although being invasive, he knew he was grateful for this soul, the soul that willingly gave itself to him. Why? He would never know.

[moony-meadow]

The Very Hungry Beelzebub (5)

Previous Part

As Mammon carried me to the bathroom attached to my room with Beel following closely behind, I became distinctly aware of the fact that I had not yet been returned to my normal size. Typically, I would have been pitching a fit and insisting the demons grow me back immediately. But strangely, for the moment, I found myself not really minding.

Despite the fact that I had just been shrunken and eaten by a demon against my will, I actually felt weirdly safe in the hands of Mammon and Beelzebub. I didn’t know how to describe it, because usually when I was so small, I felt completely vulnerable and defenseless. However, for whatever reason, those feelings weren’t currently prominent. Of course, the instinctual fear was still there, but it was more like background noise than anything.

And so I would allow Mammon and Beel to keep me miniature sized for a little while longer. Having them tote me around and take care of me didn’t sound all that bad. After all, I hadn’t been properly fussed over since shortly after the brothers all found out I was a descendant of Lilith.

Unlike Asmodeus’s personal bathroom, mine was much smaller and a fair bit less opulent. There was a porcelain clawfoot tub against the back wall, a long counter which contained the sink was situated against the wall to the left of the entrance door, and sectioned off out of sight of the door was the toilet. The countertop was dotted with a few of my personal care items such as face wash, lotion, and a hair brush, but otherwise the room was well ordered thanks to the cleaning demons that occasionally popped in.

“First things first, we gotta get the smell of Beel off of ya,” Mammon stated once the three of us had entered the bathroom. “The only demon you should smell like is the Great Mammon.”

I wasn’t sure whether to scoff or to laugh. Mammon really was intent on the whole “me being his” thing. Admittedly, I found it a little bit charming in a weird way. However, the idea that I should smell like him was taking it in a weird direction. “I’d prefer to smell like myself, thank you,” I replied simply.

“You’re pretty bad at hiding your crush on Y/N,” Beel observed casually, instantly earning him a scowl from his older brother. I smacked a hand over my mouth to prevent myself from audibly chuckling.

“Oi, I do not have a crush on a crummy human!” Mammon insisted, all while clutching me close to his chest. “Y-you’re just makin’ stuff up, Beel.”

I slapped the back of my hand against Mammon’s torso. “Enough bickering,” I ordered, craning my neck to look up at his face.

Aside from a little bit of under the breath grumbling, Mammon did as I asked and he and Beel went about figuring out how to get me cleaned up. The next thing I knew, I was laying on my back on Mammon’s palm, my head hanging over the edge. I was positioned a few inches from the warm stream of water that was spilling from the golden sink faucet. Beel’s hands hovered nearby. One glance at the redhead’s face revealed how concentrated he was on being ready to spring to my aid should I need it.

“Just sit back and relax, we’ll get the spit outta your hair in no time,” Mammon declared cheerfully.

I gave a shrug and let my eyes slide shut. This whole situation was strange and unnecessary, considering Beel and Mammon could just grow me back and I could very easily take a shower, but I was willing to roll with it anyways. If I imagined it as a giant spa experience, it was actually pretty appealing.

A moment later, Mammon had inched his hand forward until my hair was caught in the gentle cascade of water. I immediately let out a relaxed sigh once the warmth made contact with the skin of my scalp. I stayed just like that for a couple minutes, until I felt two giant fingers touch my head. Initially, I tensed up. But when I peeked a look and saw Beel carefully rubbing shampoo into my hair, I returned to my former state of calm.

“Y’know, I could get used to this,” I remarked as Beel continued to gently massage my scalp.

Mammon’s hand jolted slightly under me. “Hey, don’t think this is a normal thing. The only reason a demon as noble and important as me is botherin’ to help clean a human up, is ‘cause my dumb brother went and ate ya,” He stated firmly.

“Don’t you think that’s the pot calling the kettle black?” Beel questioned in his usual calm tone.

I opened up one eye just in time to see Mammon shoot a sour look at his younger brother. Beel didn’t even seem to notice, his focus was entirely on the task of washing out my hair.

After about ten minutes, Mammon and Beel were apparently satisfied that my hair had been cleared of demon slobber. I had been set down on the counter and stood a few inches from the sink, rubbing a cloth the size of a comforter over my damp locks.

Mammon was sitting on his knees, his arms folded over the edge of the counter with his head resting on top of them. “I wish we could keep ya like this,” he said, a dreamy look in his eyes as he watched me.

Glowering up at the giant demon’s face, I shook my head in disapproval. “You just want to eat me again,” I accused.

Unphased by my accusation, Mammon gave a small shrug. He reached out with one of his ringed fingers and ran it along the length of my arm. “Well yeah, that’s a given. But like this, you’re also so cu--” the Avatar of Greed cut himself off, hastily retracting his finger as if I’d burned him.

“You were going to say Y/N is cute,” Beel helpfully supplied, earning him a mortified look from Mammon. “I’d have to agree,” he continued. A rush of heat instantly attacked my cheeks. I looked down at my feet in an attempt to prevent either brother from seeing my involuntary blush. “Although, they are at least a little bit safer at their normal size,” Beel reminded Mammon.

I definitely felt safer at my natural height, but then again, if every demon could just effortlessly shrink me, then I was realistically always potentially a small step away from danger... “Let’s not dwell on that little technicality right now,” I told myself. After the rollercoaster of emotions I’d gone through in just a couple hours, I felt I deserved a break from fretting.

“Speaking of which,” I started, dropping the washcloth. “As much as I enjoyed you two waiting on me, I think it’s about time you grow me back.” While my head felt nice and clean now, the rest of my body was still caked in dried saliva. I was in need of a proper shower; and of course my pajamas would need a thorough washing, that is, if I didn’t end up just throwing them out altogether.

Mammon turned his attention back to me, now sporting a pouty face. “Can’t I eat ya? You’re already small and all.”

I narrowed my eyes at the white-haired demon. “Do you really want to eat me when I’ve got Beel’s spit all over my body?” I questioned, arms folded over my chest.

A look of disgust immediately formed on Mammon’s face, eliciting a chuckle from Beel. “Uck, no. I’ll wait for another time,” he grumbled as he pulled away from the counter and got to his feet.

“No one is supposed to be eating Y/N,” Beelzebub scolded. “Lucifer would kill both of us if he found out we’d done it, even if they did make it out okay.”

While the Avatar of Pride had gotten a lot less...aggressive towards me over time, it was still impossible not to be intimidated by him. I knew my status as an exchange student protected me from Lucifer’s wrath for the most part, but I still worried about how he punished his brothers. Yes, they were powerful demons capable of withstanding much more than any human could, but that didn’t mean I liked seeing them get hurt.

Rather than dismissing Beel’s words as I had expected, Mammon gave his brother a hard look. “Ya better not breathe a word of this to him, I don’t care how guilty your conscience is,” he warned.

My eyebrows shot up. It was so strange seeing him act so stern. At first, I felt the urge to scold him for being so harsh with Beel, but then I realized the reason for the warning. If Beel let it slip to Lucifer what he’d done, his punishment would no doubt be severe. Mammon was actually looking out for his little brother, and that was something I found endlessly endearing.

Beel frowned but nodded in understanding nonetheless. When he glanced in my direction, I shot him a reassuring smile, which he was quick to reciprocate. I felt the sudden urge to hug both him and Mammon, but that was something I wouldn’t be able to do properly until I was back to my usual size.

“Okay, enough stalling. One of you two needs to grow me back now,” I proclaimed.

“Only the demon who shrinks ya can grow ya back, so it’s gotta be Beel,” Mammon said, sounding none too happy about that fact. I had no doubt he wanted to be the one to come to my rescue once again.

Beel’s hands began to move slowly towards me. “Do you mind if I pick you up so I can put you on the floor?” he asked kindly, his vibrant eyes watching me as he awaited my response.

Oh yeah. It probably wouldn’t be good if I was returned to my normal size while still on the bathroom counter, my head would probably end up colliding with the ceiling. I gave Beel my nod of approval and braced myself as his massive hands gently scooped me up and transferred me to the floor.

Once I was back on solid ground, I took a moment to look up and take in the view of two mind bogglingly huge demons towering on either side of me. Talk about intimidating. That was certainly a sight to make me all the more eager to get big again.

“Okay, ready and…” Beel’s words preceded the intense tingling sensation that signalled to me the resizing process had begun. In a matter of moments I was myself again. Of course both Beel and Mammon were still taller than me, but at least I could look them in the eyes without getting a crick in my neck.

I didn’t hesitate long before tugging both brothers into an awkward three person hug. Mammon gave an indignant yelp, and a glance upwards revealed that Beel’s face was tinged red. That only made my grin widen and my grip on the two demons tighten.

It was hard to believe I was embracing two people who had both eaten me.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 1

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

Synopsis (Taken from NovelUpdates): During one of his archaeological internships, Lin Yan, unfortunately, digs out a ghost and was being followed by it…

Since then strange things happened one after another in his life…

In order to return his life to normal, Lin Yan led his childhood friend and a Daoist priest on the road to help the ghost accomplish his wish.

However, the closer Lin Yan got to the end, the more he realized that things were not simple as he thought.

And his relationship with the ghost also started to change.

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 - Wedge

Lin Yan stood in front of the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing a white cotton shirt and jeans. His face was handsome and delicate. Unfortunately, underneath his face was haggard. His eyes were bloodshot, with two deep black spots underneath them, making him look older than he actually was.

Ever since that thing first started staring at him days ago, he hadn't gotten a single good night's sleep.

Lin Yan patted his cheeks, trying to bring some colour back into his face, then turned on the faucet to wet his toothbrush and brush his teeth. His shadow reflected on the glass of the black lacquer basin. Something wasn't right, his shadow wasn't the only thing being reflected. Lin Yan stared at a twisted and deformed reflection on the glass surface. His lips began to tremble slightly, a gust of wind blew in from the window, and the incandescent lamp flickered a few times as though there was a problem with the electricity.

Someone was standing behind him.

Lin Yan buried his face in his hands. However, there was no trace of warmth in his palms. All the warmth in his body was drained by the shadow. Life, studies, friends, family; everything had all been turned upside down on a certain night two weeks ago. It hit him at the entrance of an alley, and he was the one who walked into the alley holding an umbrella, ignorant of incoming thunder.

Why him? The world was so large and there were endless things to choose from. Why choose him?

Lin Yan let out a sullen, humourless laugh. He put his hands on the cold glass basin, and slowly raised his head to look in the mirror.

A "person" stood behind him.

To be more precise, it was a tall, dark figure with mottled clothes covered in dried bloodstains. It stood barefoot not far behind Lin Yan. It had long dark hair, a pair of ruthless and deep eyes staring directly at him.

From the first time he had seen them, those eyes shocked him. They were filled with paranoia, despair, madness, strong unwillingness and even resentment. They were cold like a lock that had been frozen in the courtyard on a December night. Even with the warmth from his fingers, it couldn't be unfrozen. His own flesh and blood seemed to be intertwined with that coldness. The type of cold that could split open hands, dripping blood and exposing bones, making you want to put your fingers in your mouth to suck it away.

There was nowhere to escape; he was completely cornered. Lin Yan was holding his toothbrush in his mouth. It was obviously May weather, but it felt like he had been thrown into icy waters, frozen from head to toe.

The words he had heard from the old monk flashed through his mind: Your life will end on the first day of the month of Wushen.

He's going to die, his life is about to end. There are still supposed to be three more months. Even if it were the ghost of his mother behind him, he wouldn't let himself get scared to death by ghosts. Going through the same thing every day, doesn't it get tiring?

"What the hell are you going to do!" Lin Yan couldn't help but yell at the figure in the mirror. His voice was hoarse, and the joints of his fingers seemed to freeze. The black shadow came up from behind, folded its hands around the front of Lin Yan's abdomen. It put his chin on his shoulders, in a highly dependent and possessive posture. His whole body was wrapped up in the frigid temperature. Hair was scattered against Lin Yan's face, its lips leaving a trail of kisses from his ear, down his neck, and across his collarbone. A glinting piece of metal flashed in the dim light; it was the first button on his shirt.

A firm and slender hand wrapped around Lin Yan's throat.

This thing never allowed him to resist. It was extremely stubborn, paranoid, and selfish. If it said it wanted it, then Lin Yan had to give it; his person, his heart, his body, and finally his life.

Lin Yan wasn't able to make a sound. He was so exhausted that he didn't even want to make any noise. He raised his head and tried his best to keep his head clear even with the incoming lack of oxygen and suffocation. He and the ghost stood in a stalemate in front of the mirror.

"Let go." The deep cold made Lin Yan's teeth chatter. His voice couldn't stop trembling: "People and ghosts belong to two different worlds."

The hand grasping his neck disappeared. Lin Yan opened his eyes. In the mirror, he stood stiffly with his neck pulled back. The button of his shirt had been undone, revealing a clear crimson hickey on his collarbone.

Holding a cup tightly in his hand, Lin Yan suddenly turned around and slammed the cup against the spot where the black shadow should be. There was a crisp sound, and the glass shattered to pieces hitting the opposite wall and trickled down. However, the bathroom was empty.

Lin Yan stood alone in a daze, still holding a toothbrush in his hand.

There was no reaction, and the flickering light went back to normal. Lin Yan glanced back at the window, reached his hand over, and locked it tightly.

Ten seconds later, Lin Yan put the toothbrush in his mouth and continued to brush his teeth.

As of this moemnt, it has been nearly two weeks since Lin Yan's outlook on the world, the one he had held for the past 22 years, changed completely.

*The author has something to say: This is a story of a gentle ghost and a ghost that gets involved with a human.*

(That's an author's note at the end of the chapter that I thought I would include.)

Next Chapter

[whitesparrows97]

Cat’s Cradle – Part 4

Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Yoongi x Human!Reader/Min Yoongi x Reader (slight Namjoon x Reader)

Warnings: This whole series contains angst und explicit sexual content. Also I’m sorry but Namjoon is kind of a dick in this story.

Word Count: 7.4K

Note: Oooh, things are finally getting spicy in this chapter! Also this is the penultimate chapter; I feel kind of sad to end this series. Thanks again to everyone who left a feedback on the last chapter / chapters! Every feedback means a lot to me!

Previous / Next

A little later, when you were sitting at the small dining table in the kitchen, a pleasant silence lay over you. The only thing that could be heard were the forks scraping across the plates. One question was burning on your mind and you waited until Yoongi stood up and put the dishes into the sink to clean them. He had turned his back to you and you knew that you would never have dared to ask the question when his scrutinizing gaze lay on you. 

You cleared your throat once and Yoongi looked over his shoulder in surprise before he turned back to the dishes. “What happened to Seo-yeon?” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper and the running water of the faucet almost drowned out your voice. Yoongi’s feline ears turned towards you, and you knew he must have heard you.

Almost indifferently, Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. “She was getting too tiring, I told her it’s over between us.”

Your eyebrows shot up in amazement. You weren’t expecting that. “Oh, okay.” Oh, okay? Seriously? You cursed yourself with your rather lame comment.

“Why do you ask?” Oh, no, that’s exactly the question you were afraid he’d ask. Yeah, why exactly did you ask? Shouldn’t you not care if and with whom Yoongi shared his bed? You knew you should not. But that didn’t change the unpleasant tug in your heart when you thought that Yoongi was as close to someone else like you, scenting someone else like you.

You tried to put as much indifference in your voice as Yoongi did. “Oh, just because. I haven’t seen her for days, and she was here almost every day last week.” You examined an imaginary lint on your sweatpants that seemed to be particularly interesting. It became even more interesting when you saw out of the corner of your eye how Yoongi turned off the water and put the last plate on the rack next to the sink. 

Your heart was beating wildly as Yoongi bridged the few steps between you and suddenly crouched down in front of you. His dark eyes looked at you through his blonde hair and slightly hesitant he grabbed your hands which were playing nervously with each other. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “I am incredibly sorry for my behavior. I behaved like an asshole and I’m the reason you lost your job.”

You shook your head. “It’s not your fault–”

“Yes it is, Y/N,” he insisted. “The whole situation between us didn’t help us to really be ourselves. And I should not have been so offended by the comment you made.”

“I didn’t mean it,” it bubbled out of you immediately. “You know that, right?”

He nodded and smiled. “I know,” he smiled. He looked at you in silence for a moment before he sighed. “I’m sorry about Namjoon, too…”

You sighed too. “It’s okay, I figured he was cheating on me. I’m not completely stupid,” you added with a laugh. “And you also warned me about him from the beginning. But let’s not talk about him anymore.”

“Are you sure?” You nodded. “Are you really okay?”

A little laugh escaped you. “I think I’m better than I should be, actually.”

He joined in your little laugh before he looked at you seriously again. “I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up.” He got up and pressed a little kiss on your forehead before he straightened up completely. You sat there for a moment, stunned, staring at the back of his blond head. Even if it sounded strange, this gesture was much more intimate for you than the situation before when he had scented you. Because you knew that this action was only his human mind and will and had nothing to do with his animalistic drives.

Yoongi turned to you and you tried not to let anything show. “Is it okay if I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Laughter came out of you, but you couldn’t help it. “We haven’t done that since we left for college, Yoongi.” You didn’t know if you were imagining it, but you could have sworn that a slight pink glow spread to his cheeks. 

“Fine then,” he muttered and turned back. You quickly jumped up from your seat and grabbed his arm before he could disappear into his room. With big eyes he saw you smiling at him.

“Of course you can, Yoongi,” you quickly accepted his wish and the corners of his mouth twitched up for a moment before he put on an indifferent expression again. 

“Cool,” he said in a slightly deeper voice than usual and you couldn’t hold back your laughter. You raised your hand and brushed the hair out of his eyes so you could see him better.

“I can’t say no to my hybrid,” you said in a tender voice and a hand lingered for a moment on his cheek. When you looked into his dark eyes and felt your abdomen contract joyfully, you wondered if it had been a good decision to agree to his wish.

It wasn’t, you realized about eight hours later when your eyes blinked and you tried in confusion to perceive the outline of your room. But all you saw was darkness. The last shadows of your more than realistic dream slipped out of your grasp as you tried to remember it. You wanted to rub the sleep out of your eyes and only then you became aware of the position you were in. You had both hands buried in a t-shirt and your forehead was on a chest that moved up and down regularly.

Immediately your heart beat faster as you felt the hands on your lower back pressing you firmly against the man next to you. The fur on his tail tickled you slightly as it wrapped around your naked thighs. You moved your head slightly and your eyes widened as your gaze fell on the lower half of your body. Yoongi’s leg lay between yours and your heart pounded when you realized how high up it was.

You felt an uncomfortable wetness between your legs and your panties sticking to your core. Oh God, you had to get out of here. You were horrified for a second when you thought that your short sleeping pants had hopefully held everything of Yoongi’s sweatpants. You couldn’t endure the shame if some of your arousal would show on the black fabric of his pants. Another thought made you nervously slide back and forth in his arms. If Yoongi woke up, he would smell your excitement immediately. Then the mood between you would only get weird again. But a scrutinizing look up made you breathe a sigh of relief when you saw his closed eyelids and realized that he was still sleeping.

You had to take a shower as soon as possible and without waking Yoongi. With Yoongi’s strong grip, that seemed like an impossible task. The heat emanating from him made you sweat and was one more reason for you to want to take a shower as soon as possible. You gently pushed yourself against his chest with your hands and tried to push yourself away. Yoongi muttered something incomprehensible into your hair and you immediately stopped moving. Yoongi started to move and strengthened his grip around you. His thigh came in contact with your most intimate part and you couldn’t suppress the moaning which fortunately was muffled by his t-shirt. 

You whimpered softly as you felt the need to move your hips and finally get some friction on your clit. You had to get out of here, right now. Your abdomen was burning and screaming to be noticed as you carefully grabbed Yoongi’s tail and tried to release it from your thigh. The tip moved and waved back and forth briefly. You took the opportunity when his grip loosened a bit and freed your leg.

Yoongi was mumbling above you. Please don’t wake up, you thought as you watched his face. He squeezed his eyes tighter before he smacked his lips once and suddenly rolled over to the side. He had loosened the grip around your back so that you wouldn’t be dragged along with him. Your abdomen contracted as you briefly had the image in your mind of how you would lie on top of him. You quickly wiped this scenario from your mind. 

You were free, the only thing stopping you from sprinting into the bathroom was the blanket that had wrapped itself around you like a cocoon. You took one more deep breath before clammy fingers grabbed the fabric and pulled it away from under Yoongi’s arm. Inch by inch you worked your way forward and almost gave a cry of triumph when the cool air hit your body as you lifted the blanket. Carefully you rolled off Yoongi’s arm and stepped onto the cool wooden floor. The fresh air helped you put your thoughts in order and lift the haze from your mind.

Quietly you grabbed the sweatpants from the day before, a t-shirt and fresh panties; the most important thing as you noticed and grimaced when you felt the material of your panties sticking to you. On tiptoes you went into the bathroom and took a deep breath when the door behind you fell into the lock. You didn’t waste a second when you threw all your clothes into the washing basket and jumped into the shower.

You sighed when the hot water hit your body and just stood under the water stream. If only you had never agreed to Yoongi’s wish, you thought and began to wash your hair and wash the night’s residue off your body. You could guess what your dream had been about even if you couldn’t remember it. Your state in which you woke up spoke volumes.

You listened to the sound of the water a moment before you reached between your legs and your finger touched your clit. You didn’t want to risk Yoongi waking up and didn’t want to waste another second. Especially since your insides were almost trembling and wanted attention. 

With nimble fingers you started to circle your clit and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally felt the release you had been longing for since you woke up. With shaky legs you headed towards your orgasm and leaned against the wall with one hand to get some support. You bit your lip so that no sound fell over your lips. Even though Yoongi was still asleep, you didn’t want to risk anything. You trembled when you were on the verge of orgasm and felt your arousal mix with the water. It almost hurt, so quickly you climbed up the hill to your release. You were so near–

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard Yoongi’s voice on the other side of the door. You froze in your movement. No, no, no, that couldn’t be true. You almost sobbed as you felt your orgasm recede as you removed the pressure on your clit. “What would you like for breakfast?”

The hand you used to support yourself against the wall clenched in a fist. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your breathing down. “I don’t care,” you shouted back and heard how high your voice sounded. You listened for a moment but Yoongi didn’t reply. You let your shoulders droop as you washed off again and turned off the water. You wouldn’t risk it again even if your body was still on fire. 

A glance in the steamed up mirror showed you your flushed cheeks, but you attributed it to the temperature of the water before you went into the kitchen. Immediately the sweet smell of pancakes enveloped you and you closed your eyes with relish. “God, that smells heavenly, Yoongi,” you praised him as you entered the kitchen. 

Yoongi didn’t look up when you arrived and piled the small round pieces of dough on a plate next to the pan. He turned off the stove and put the pan aside before he looked up for the first time. The blood froze in your veins when you saw his gaze, but the moment was so brief that you weren’t sure if you had imagined it. He came the few steps towards you and pushed himself past you. “Would you like to set the table? I’ll take a quick shower,” he said, but before he disappeared from your sight you grabbed his wrist. He flinched almost imperceptibly.

“Are you all right?” you asked anxiously when you saw the red glow on his cheeks. 

He cleared his throat briefly and threw you a little smile. “Sure, I’ll be right back,” he promised you and released himself from your grip. You stood there for a moment, as if rooted to the spot and only the sound of the running shower released you from your rigidity. As you set the table and prepared some fruit to go with the pancakes, you wondered if you hadn’t been as careful as you’d hoped. Yoongi was obviously embarrassed by your behavior. At least you attributed it to that because you couldn’t think of any other reason.

Less than five minutes later, the two of you were sitting across from each other, having breakfast in silence. Unlike yesterday, an unpleasant pressure was upon you and you searched hard for topics, but your head was empty.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Did you sleep well?” he asked and took a sip of his coffee. You choked on a piece of pancake and had to suppress a cough. The blood shot up your cheeks and your eyes watered as you tried to get the food down your gullet. 

“Sorry,” you squawked as you took a sip of water to loosen the lump from your throat. 

“No problem,” Yoongi laughed. He laughed. You were more sure from second to second that he knew exactly what had happened the last hour and why you reacted the way you did. “Shall we watch a movie after this?”

Glad Yoongi changed the subject, you looked at him questioningly. “Don’t you have to go to work?” 

Yoongi shook his head and ate the last of his pancakes. “Took the week off.”

You raised one eyebrow. “Oh, just like that?” That wasn’t like Yoongi to take the week off for no reason. He got up, grabbed your empty plate and put it in the sink with his dishes. 

“I thought you might not want to be alone after all that’s happened these past few days,” he said casually and your eyes widened.

“Yoongi…,” you started but he stopped you with a gesture.

“Let’s not talk about it. So, what movie do you want to watch?” he dismissed the subject and pulled you by the hand towards the living room. When you agreed on a film a little later, you wrapped yourself in a blanket on the sofa. You could hardly concentrate on the pictures on the TV in front of you. The only thing you noticed was the heat that emanated from Yoongi and spilled over onto you. His shoulder touched yours lightly and with every laugh it gently rubbed yours. 

You didn’t know if it just seemed that way but you could swear that Yoongi had never smelled as good as today. His scent clouded your thoughts and not G-rated pictures inside your head made you forget everything else. You shifted back and forth on your seat when you felt dampness build up between your legs and wrapped the blanket a bit tighter around your body so Yoongi wouldn’t notice.

Still, he gave you a confused side glance. “You alright?” You nodded quickly but he didn’t seem to let go. “Are you cold? I can warm you up.” He leaned closer to you and clasped the blanket you were still clutching tightly.

“No!” you said louder than intended, and Yoongi recoiled. You stared at him with big eyes and for a moment, Yoongi stared at you silently. Then a dirty grin spread across his face.

“If you think the blanket will help me not to smell how turned on you are right now, then I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you,” he said in a low voice and you gasped for air. He raised one hand and stroked your cheek. The skin underneath flared up and became a shade darker. “But I suppose that’s partly my fault, but I just couldn’t resist interrupting you while you were in the shower.”

With eyes wide open you stared into his dark eyes, which were fixating you. “W-What do you mean?” you stuttered, hoping maybe he was joking.

He clicked his tongue and put his hands over yours, which almost painfully clawed into the fabric of the blanket. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He lifted his gaze again and, grinning, uncovered the small pointy canines, which were slightly longer than normal. “I’m a little disappointed that you chose to do it yourself rather than ask me.”

He grabbed your hands and before you knew what was happening, he tore the blanket from your hands. He threw it on the floor and his eyes fluttered briefly as he took a deep breath. A growl that sounded almost dog-like escaped his throat, sending a new wave of excitement to him. Faster than you could see, Yoongi suddenly lay above you and with a small scream, your head hit the armrest of the sofa. 

The hybrid was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how horny you are if that was all I could smell this morning? Your scent was everywhere,” he explained to you, spreading innocent kisses first on your cheek before moving further down towards your chin and neck. “The whole bedroom smelt of you and the bathroom as well.” He straightened up again to look you in the eye and observe your reaction to what he said next. “I must admit it was really hot when you rubbed your pussy on my thigh in your sleep.” Your breath got stuck in your throat as Yoongi bent down even closer and whispered the next part in your ear. “I almost came in my pants when I heard your moaning and whimpering.”

You couldn’t help it when you tried to close your legs and press them together to get some friction. But Yoongi clicked his tongue unpleasantly and pushed them further apart when he placed himself between them. “So what do you want to do, baby,” he asked you and his tail caressed your upper arm “The decision is yours.”

You looked at him wordlessly. Was this really happening? Or was it just another sex dream you had and would wake up in your bed any moment? 

Yoongi lowered his head and stroked his nose over the sensitive part of your neck and you had to sigh. “I need your words, baby,” he whispered before you felt his sharp teeth against your skin. You shivered and felt Yoongi grinning. He looked up and looked at you with raised eyebrows while waiting for an answer.

You nodded, shyly, while your heart was pounding up to your neck. Yoongi purred and came so close to you with his face that you closed your eyes. You felt the breath of his lips as they gently brushed yours. “I need words, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips.

If you stretched your head forward just an inch, your lips would lie on top of his, but you knew he would not initiate anything unless you answered his question. So you gathered your courage. “Yes, I want you, Yoongi,” you breathed and a millisecond later his lips pressed passionately on yours.

You moaned into the kiss as Yoongi lowered his hip and his erection hit your center. You didn’t think that Yoongi felt the same as you did. You embraced his hip with your legs and he released one hand from the armrest to grab one of your thighs. He pressed his cock right against your clothed opening and you opened your mouth. The loud moan was caught by Yoongi’s mouth, who took the opportunity to press his tongue into your mouth. He wrapped his tongue around yours and savored your taste before he ran his tongue along your teeth. 

Your abdomen pulsated and you rotated your hips against his. He stopped the kiss and growled before he looked at you. “Are you so crazy about my cock that you can barely hold it?”

You nodded like in a trance. “I want you inside me, I need you,” you admitted breathlessly and brushed the hair away from his face. Your hands remained in his hair for a moment before you brought them to Yoongi’s ears and gently scratched the base where the ears merged into his head. Yoongi squeezed his eyes together and purred briefly before releasing his grip around your thigh and grasping one wrist.

“Careful, Kitten,” he whispered and looked at you piercingly. “If you keep this up, I won’t be able to control myself.” The mere thought made your abdomen contract and you emitted an impatient sound. Yoongi looked down to where your hips met before he slowly looked up. “Does the thought turn you on that I’ll fuck you uninhibitedly until you can’t walk anymore?”

Your choked moan gave him answer enough and he showed his teeth before he let his hip snap against yours. You dropped your head to the side as you moaned, exposing your neck. Yoongi didn’t waste a second when he pressed his lips on it and started sucking. Your hands buried themselves in his hair again and gently pressed him harder against you. Your fingers played around the base of his ears and Yoongi moaned against your neck, sending a shiver down your body. 

Before you could say anything, you felt a hand making its way up your thigh. “Down,” he commanded muttering, tapping your thigh, before clasping your skin with his lips again. You released the hold around his hip and let your legs slide apart to give Yoongi better access. Slowly he untied the knot on your sweatpants which held them in place and looked up at you; a diabolical grin on his lips. He knew exactly how turned on you were and that you were waiting impatiently for him to finally touch you.

You sighed as he straightened up and came to a halt on his knees between your spread legs. He let his gaze glide over your already ruined body, starting at your reddened cheeks, over your lips, to your quickly rising chest. His gaze ended between your legs and he licked his lips. He reached into the fabric of your pants on both sides before he pulled the pants off your legs with a quick movement. He threw them on the floor and stroked your thighs almost tenderly with his fingers. But he paused just before he reached your center. 

Your whining was swallowed by his mouth, which pressed hard against yours. The kiss was rough and you moaned as he took your lower lip between his teeth. You felt his canines as they lightly pierced your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed him closer to you. He pushed out a short laugh before his lips embraced yours again. 

You raised your hips hoping to feel his cock between your legs but Yoongi pushed them back to the sofa with a firm push of his hand. “Not so impatient,” he murmured. You wanted to complain when you felt his hand move away but a second later it was between your legs. You moaned into the kiss as he gently ran his finger across your slit. He groaned as he moved over the soaked material of your panties and put some pressure on your clit.

You wriggled under his touch and Yoongi released his mouth from you. His gaze lingered briefly on your lips which were slightly open and reddened by his kisses. With a satisfied purr he grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and pushed the material upwards. Surprised, he looked up when he noticed that you were not wearing a bra. “Naughty girl,” he whispered and embraced one of your nipples with his mouth.

You moaned and pressed your upper body against his touch. His tongue circled your sensitive nipple and he began to suck. “Oh God, Yoongi, please don’t stop,” you moaned and pushed his head further towards your chest.

You cried out when you felt sharp teeth on your nipple, which gently nibbled at the sensitive part. Your legs slid even further apart as far as the sofa would allow and Yoongi brought his fingers back in contact with your clitoris. He now circled the other nipple with his tongue and gave the breast the same treatment as the other while his fingers pressed against your opening.

You released your grip from his hair and placed your fingers under the material of your panties. You tried to pull them down but Yoongi grabbed your wrists. With a lewd “pop” he released your nipple from his mouth and put some distance between you so he could look at you. The sight almost took your breath away when you saw his eyes almost black with desire.

“So you want my cock so bad, baby?” he whispered and you nodded eagerly. You grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and without protest, Yoongi let it slip over his head. Your gaze fell on his trained chest, on which some drops of sweat had already collected. Your gaze glided further down to the small trail of dark hair under his belly button, which made its way down and disappeared under his sweatpants. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his bushy tail swaying satisfied behind him.

You glanced briefly at Yoongi’s face as he watched you before you gathered your courage. You had always wanted to try it, but you knew how intimate the gesture was. That’s why you’ve always shied away from it. Carefully you brought your hands in contact with Yoongi’s hips and he lowered them a little so that you could reach them better. Your fingers moved backwards over his kidneys to the point where his tail met his body, just above the sweatpants. 

He dropped his head as you began to stroke the base of his tail and a loud purr escaped his throat. He pushed his hip towards you to get more of your touch, but now it was up to you to release your grip. He growled and raised his head to give you a sharp look. But you just grinned. “What’s wrong, Yoongi?” you asked ironically and with a raised eyebrow, but Yoongi just looked at you coldly.

“The laughter will be gone in a moment, baby,” Yoongi warned and you cried out in surprise when Yoongi suddenly tore the panties off your legs. A second later your t-shirt followed. With slightly shaky fingers he grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and had some trouble getting the knot open before he quickly pushed them off his hips. Your breath faltered as your gaze fell on his erection, which was more than clearly visible under the fabric of his underpants and created a remarkable tent. “You won’t have much more to say when my cock is buried so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to form a single sentence,” he promised you and also yanked his underpants off his hips. 

Your mouth watered when you saw the little drop of white liquid that had collected on the tip of his cock. As if by itself you raised your hand and stroked over it with your thumb. Yoongi moaned softly at the contact and when you brought your thumb to your mouth and pushed it in while looking deep into his eyes, it seemed as if he was holding his breath completely. You closed your eyes with relish as your tongue absorbed the drop of pre cum and tasted the slightly salty liquid. 

You removed your thumb from your mouth and smiled at Yoongi, who watched you with slightly open lips. “Fuck it” he said and attacked your lips again with his. He moaned into the kiss while he could still taste his cum on your tongue. Without warning he brought his cock in contact with your slit. His thick tip pressed lightly against your opening and you interrupted the kiss to catch your breath.

You watched him with a look between your bodies as he wrapped his cock so tightly that his knuckles were almost white. He moved his tip along your labia and spread your arousal on his cock. His tip was again at your opening and he looked up strained. It seemed to cost him every drop of his willpower not to penetrate you directly. “Do you think you can take my cock like that? Without any kind of preparation?”

You hesitated for a moment when you thought of his size, but when you felt how wet you were and how your abdomen contracted around emptiness, you nodded. You tilted your hips and felt his tip penetrate you without resistance. At the same time both of you moaned as he penetrated you and his cock stretched your inner walls open. “Baby,” Yoongi moaned as he pushed his cock all the way into you with one quick movement and his pelvis hit yours. “Fuck, you’re almost sucking me in,” he said breathlessly as your muscles contracted around his cock.

You wiggled your hips to let him know that you could no longer stand his standstill. “Please move, Yoongi,” you whispered as you brushed through his hair. 

Slowly he looked up and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met. “Think you can handle my dick?” In his eyes lay mischief and you rolled your eyes.

“If you don’t move, we’ll never find out,” you returned impatiently. Without another word, Yoongi pulled his cock out of you until only the tip of it was left inside you. He looked at you briefly before he penetrated you hard. You squeezed your eyes together and gritted your teeth as his cock almost split you in two. His pelvis crashed against yours and you knew you’d be bruised tomorrow, but the thought only turned you on more.

Yoongi picked up a steady pace and with every stroke his hip slapped against yours and pressed himself comfortably into your flesh. It was almost shameful how wet you were, which was more than clearly audible in the small living room. The only thing louder than that was your moaning, which followed after each thrust. The whole day and your interrupted orgasm in the shower made sure that you quickly reached the point where you had been interrupted before.

“God, baby, are you close?” Yoongi pushed out between his thrusts. You nodded, unable to formulate words and sentences. Yoongi lowered his head and his teeth brushed against your neck where your heart was throbbing loudly. “Come for me, kitten,” he whispered and at that moment, your release came upon you.

You squinted your eyes and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your abdomen twitched irregularly. Yoongi’s rigorous rhythm didn’t stop once and as you slowly came down from your orgasm, you wriggled under him. “Yoongi, too much,” you said as his cock almost unpleasantly touched your sensitive walls. Immediately he stopped moving and to your displeasure he started to pull his cock out of you. 

Your abdomen contracted around nothing when you saw his cock, which glistened from your wetness. Yoongi grabbed his shaft hard and started to stroke his hand up and down. His hand glided easily over his cock thanks to your moisture while he watched you lying underneath him breathing heavily. “Turn around,” he commanded and leaned back so that he sat on his knees. You drew in your legs and followed his command as you turned to your side. “On your knees,” he continued. You continued to turn and kneel down before leaning your upper body forward and resting your forearms on the armrest of the sofa. This position made sure that you were stretching your bottom towards him and he had a perfect view of your opening.

Faster than you could see, two hands were on your hips and Yoongi’s cock was at your opening but could not penetrate you without help because of the angle. “You almost look like a cat, the way you present yourself to me,” Yoongi said and his voice dripped with lust. “Do you want me to breed you, baby? Is that what you want?” He released one hand and grabbed his cock which he placed at your opening. You wiggled your ass to let it slide into you like the time before but Yoongi pulled back a few inches.

A second later his flat hand landed hard on your ass cheek. You moaned and let your forehead drop between your arms onto the armrest. “Behave, baby, or I’ll teach you a lesson.”

You bit your lips when the brief thought came to you to do just that as a jolt went through your body thinking of what Yoongi would do to you. His hand hit your naked skin again and the loud clapping and the slight burning sent shock waves through your body. You felt your arousal run out of you and dripping down your thighs. Yoongi seemed to notice it too and he laughed softly. “Oh you like that? Does the thought turn you on of me bending you over the armrest and spanking you so hard that you won’t be able to sit properly the next few days?”

You nodded and Yoongi’s hand slapped your ass hard again. You tried to press your legs together as your abdomen contracted painfully. Yoongi put his knee between your legs and forced you to spread them again. Without another word, he placed his cock back at your slit and pushed into you with a strong thrust. You cried out when his cock hit hard against your G-spot. 

“I warned you, baby,” Yoongi said behind you and grabbed your hips again. With every thrust, he pulled you against his hip and it was his firm grip alone that kept you from flying forward. 

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you brought out and tried to find support in the armrest. One of his arms wrapped around the middle of your body and before you knew what was happening he had brought you into an upright position. His bushy tail took the place of his arm and wrapped around your waist, across your belly. He pressed you against him with it and you were surprised for a moment how strong his tail was. The surprise did not last long though as Yoongi’s hand gently wrapped itself around your throat.

You gasped as he pressed ever so lightly and slightly cut off your air supply for a brief moment. The moment lasted only a second before he released the grip again, but he kept his hand on your neck. Your hands were looking for support when he picked up his pace again and you thought you were going to fall forward at any moment. He took your hand in his and brought it over your head to his head. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair and he moaned as he put his head on your shoulder. 

You moaned loudly as his tip hit your G-spot with almost every thrust because of the new position and abused it with his hard thrusts. His other hand, which was not on your neck, stroked your stomach and then reached between your legs. You cried out as he pressed your clitoris hard and began to circle it. 

“Yo-Yoongi,” you said and tilted your head to present him to your neck. “Mark me,” you brought out breathlessly and pressed yourself closer against him. His movements faltered for a moment before he exhaled a laugh. His fingers around your neck touched the spot where he would bury his teeth. 

“You want me to mark you, huh?” He stroked the spot once more before his grip wrapped around your throat again. “Not today,” he whispered into your ear and quickened his pace once more. The finger on your clitoris bordered on painful and yet it kept sending you further and further towards your orgasm. “Come for me, kitten, so I can breed you,” Yoongi whispered and sent you over the edge.

Your breath faltered when you saw black dots and the hot excitement washed over you. Your muscles, which clenched around Yoongi’s cock, made sure that he followed a few seconds later. His movements became less precise as he penetrated deep into you and a few thrusts later shot his sperm deep into you. You moaned as you felt it hit your walls. It hardly seemed to stop as he pumped every last drop into you with a groan. 

Used up he let himself fall on you and under his weight you collapsed as well. For a moment you just lay there and despite his weight it was not unpleasant. You saw his tail, which lay joyfully next to your face and swayed back and forth. You felt Yoongi’s cock relax inside you and his sperm run out of you. This seemed to bring him back to reality as he pushed off on the palms of his hands and slipped out of you completely as he straightened up. He reached under the coffee table and pulled out a handkerchief. Carefully he brought the material between your legs and you flinched slightly.

“Sorry, baby,” Yoongi said gently and began to clean you up. He reached for the handkerchiefs again and you had to laugh as more dripped out of you. 

“How much did you shoot into me?” you asked smiling and looked over your shoulder at Yoongi. You saw a pink glow over his cheeks but decided not to tease him about it. He seemed to find the situation more than embarrassing. Yoongi didn’t seem to have an answer to that either because he was only silently cleaning up the mess he had made. When he finished, he threw the dirty handkerchiefs on the floor.

You turned back on your back with aching bones and Yoongi handed you your panties and t-shirt. Thankfully you took it from him and let your gaze glide over his naked body one last time before he got dressed. You flinched slightly as you put on the panties and the fabric hit your sore core. Yoongi sat down back to you on the sofa when he had put on his shirt and underpants and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Sorry I was a little rough.” He looked at you slightly nervous, but you pressed your lips gently against his. At once he seemed to relax.

“That’s the last thing you need to apologize for,” you admitted with a laugh. 

Yoongi smiled as well but it vanished quickly when something was obviously still burning on his mind. “I didn’t mean that with the impregnation,” he said softly and looked at his intertwined hands. The redness made its way across his cheeks to his neck and you had to suppress a laugh. 

You reached under his chin and lifted it up so he would look at you. There was uncertainty in his eyes, maybe even some fear that you didn’t accept this side of him or even found it repulsive. If the exact opposite was true. “Babe,” you said softly and his eyes lit up at the nickname, “you don’t know how hot that was.”

His eyes narrowed as you spoke and he looked more catlike than ever as his gaze patterned your facial expressions to judge how serious you were. A grin spread out and the uncertainty in his gaze had disappeared as he approached you and surrounded your lips with a tender kiss. You sighed as he parted from you far too quickly. He leaned against the armrest on the other side of the sofa and patted once on the space between his legs. 

More than willingly you bridged the distance between you and made yourself comfortable between his legs. You leaned your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around the middle of your body. He put his head on your shoulder and took a deep breath. A satisfied humming made you turn your head slightly. “What is it?”

He shook his head, but you insisted on an answer. He rubbed his cheek against yours as he muttered contentedly, “You finally smell of me, my scent is practically stuck to you.” The last part he said almost shyly, but you snuggled up closer. 

“Good, then every hybrid knows I belong to you,” you said contentedly. You heard Yoongi drawing in the air behind you.

“Are you serious?” he asked and his voice sounded hopeful. “Even when you told me to mark you…”

You remembered with a smile and nodded slightly. “Of course, I wouldn’t have said it otherwise. I know it’s not a thing to say lightly.”

Yoongi didn’t reply but just pressed his head back to yours and drew small circles on your belly where the T-shirt had slipped up a little. You just lay there silently for a while and enjoyed each other’s presence. You listened to his regular breaths and closed your eyes. It wasn’t long before you almost drifted off into a dreamy slumber. But you were torn back from it when you felt Yoongi’s tail against your bare thigh. 

You opened one eye first, then the other as you watched Yoongi’s tail make its way upwards from your thigh. The tip of his tail stroked over your panties and you couldn’t hide the grin. The fur tickled you slightly as it slipped between your legs and your hips twitched slightly upwards. “Still not satisfied?” Yoongi murmured at your throat but you heard the grin in his voice. “That’s not acceptable, I can’t let that happen, that my human isn’t completely satisfied,” he said more to himself and brushed along the waistband of your panties with his fingers.

You let your head roll against his chest as he pushed the fabric of them aside and stroked your labia. “You’re so wet again,” Yoongi whispered above you. “Your smell is driving me almost crazy, you know that?” His finger played around your opening just before he pushed into you. You sighed as his fingertip searched for the little rough spot inside you and found it with a curl of his finger “So tight and wet, even though I almost fucked the soul out of your body just now,” he continued to speak and your abdomen tightened tightly at his words. 

He pulled his finger slightly out of you and the next time he penetrated you with two fingers. The slight stretching made you moan softly and you let your legs slide further apart. He curled both fingers and hit your G-spot. He relaxed his fingers again before making the same movement again. You could hear how wet you were and you knew that if Yoongi continued with this movement for much longer, you would probably never get the stains out of the couch again. But the feeling that spread inside you kept you from stopping Yoongi. He knew what he was doing when he buried his fingers deep inside you in quick “come here” movements. 

A loud ringing that echoed through the apartment made you both flinch. You moaned, but this time for a different reason when you grabbed Yoongi’s wrist and he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of you. With shaky legs you stood up and pushed your panties back into place while reaching for your sweatpants. 

“Baby,” Yoongi’s voice made you look up as you pulled the pants over your legs. “Hurry up,” he said, wrapping his mouth around his two fingers where you could see your arousal shining more than clearly. You had to suppress a moan as you took quick steps towards the door. You pressed the buzzer and opened the door when you heard footsteps outside the apartment door. You had expected a postman to bring you a package. So you froze in shock when none other than Kim Namjoon stood on your doormat and had the audacity to grin at you.

_______________________

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@flowersgirl02​ @lovelikeyouwant @yoongisabby​ @maryelixabeth

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 3 of 3)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Dinner is about as awkward as waving back at someone you think's waving at you, only to then realize they're actually waving at someone else.

Frisk stares at your guest from beginning to end, only looking back to their bowl when they’re done with it. They grab a piece of bread and soak up what little soup remains at the bottom and say, “You’re not a bad cook", after. They take a bite off the bread; the rest of it disappears in three more. “Is this ren's way of testing whether you'll be a good boyfriend or not?”

Sans swallows hard and coughs once to recover as he sets his spoon down. “Well, uh… Somethin’ like that, I guess.” He casts a subtle glance at you, his gaze asking for help.

“We’re not dating,” you intervene. You take some soup, but end up throwing it back in the bowl when your hand shakes, too tense to continue eating. “You and Jerry just so happened to walk in at the wrong moment, making it look like something else.”

Frisk frowns, and a dull expression reaches their eyes. “I can tell you’re lying, ren. You’re bad at it.” Their gaze moves back towards Sans, who’s now finished with his bowl and trying to move away from the conversation. “What about you, then? Why’re you chickening out if you still wanna date (Y/N)?” They furrow their eyebrows and glare at the monster. “Why are you-“

“That’s enough, honey.” You stand up and face down at them. “This isn’t his fau-“

“So then, it’s yours?” Their voice breaks as they're the one to rise next; their hands thump over the table and their frown quivers as they attempt not to show any weakness. “He… He flirted with you, so that means he’s also responsible for it!”

“I said that’s enough, Frisk (L/N),” you snap, crossing your arms. “I’m okay with talking about this with you, but not during dinner. And even less when we have a guest over.” You plan to pick up the dishes, though the skeleton beats you to it, excusing himself off to the kitchen. “I’m not dating him, and that's final. That only happened ‘cause we kind of like each other. But I refuse to date anyone until you’re all grown up.”

“You’ll be old by then,” they whine, flailing their arms. “Grandparents can’t date!”

“Yes, they can.” You go along with the ridiculousness of the conversation, too caught up in it to fully assess their words. “And ten more years won’t make me a grandparent! I’m still young.”

Frisk huffs and switches for sign language, saying, “That still doesn’t mean you have to live like this.” They grimace, eyes wetting as they sniffle once. “I like seeing you happy… But right now, this just makes me feel like I'm bothering you.”

Your anger falls with that last sentence; panic replaces it.

In a haste, you try approaching their side, though they run off to their room just as you’re ready to bring them in for a hug. Their steps are quick and the door shuts with a subtle bang, their composure still showing through. You stay in place as their words replay on your mind over and over, gloom arriving. Dismissing them is an impossible feat; your mind continues to subject your thoughts into negativity, restraining you from acting quickly.

If you’d been doing a poor job at raising them this whole time, then what had been the point of it all?

Needing a distraction, you head to the kitchen and join Sans by the sink, no words spoken between you.

He washes the dishes while you dry and store them away, keeping up a rhythmic pace until only the pot’s left. Your gaze focuses on his arms, jacket’s sleeves lifted all the way up to his elbows, revealing the oddity of who you were growing attracted to. His shirt's a bit loose by the neck, presenting you with his collarbones as you spare a peek under it. You're still adapting to the strangeness of having someone look so similar to a human skeleton, yet so different all the same. He could breathe, laugh, move, talk... and even kiss based on first-hand experience. His skull wasn't entirely solid, allowing him to blink, eat, and drink -- besides from what you were thinking of whenever you stared at his face and down at his teeth. You tell yourself it’s wrong to be befriending him, and even worse finding any attraction in him. You’re not sure how to interpret his words from earlier ago, and just what it meant to see him break down like he had.

He’d revealed he disliked who he used to be, but did he remember having said it?

From your experience, moments like those were hard to keep clear.

“Do you… remember what you said to me, Sans?”

His hands stop what they’re doing, one grabbing the knob -- ready to open the faucet -- and the other holding the pot, now coated in suds. He looks up at you, saying, “I cried, didn’t I? Don’t really remember word-for-word, but I know I meant what I said.”

You take a breather before responding with, “Even the part about hating who you used to be?”

Sans turns the knob, letting water pour down. “Yeah.” He nods, heaving out a sigh. “The more I look back and reflect on who I used to be, the more I understand why you don’t trust me.” The pot’s close to overflowing, though he doesn’t notice. You step in and place your hand over his, closing the faucet. Unaddressed tension remains as you stare down at his hand, yet you refuse to let it show, repelled by the idea of taking advantage of his vulnerability. You don’t want to engage in anything like your stay at the hotel again until you sorted out your mind and its jumble of thoughts, nor do you wish to romanticize his self-hatred by fulfilling your wants. “...I, uh, I get it now. And I promise I’ll stop flirtin' now that I know it.”

The monster pulls his hand away and takes the pot with both, emptying the soapy water down the drain. He does it little by little, preventing a flood in the sink. “Did Jerry say something about this?” you ask, taking the pot when he gives it to you. You hang the current towel and take a dryer, cleaner one from the rack. Then, you continue, finishing with the job. “He looked at you weird.”

He chuckles and meets with your eyes. “Maybe ‘cause I was all over you for a second there?”

You glare at him, lips doing the opposite by tugging into a grin, one you try to fight back. “Cut the sarcasm.” You jab his waist, smile growing. “You know what I mean."

“Let him think what he wants to think. I knew you before I knew him, and you guys haven’t been together for years. You’re your own person, and so’s him. If he doesn’t want to keep being friends, then that’s fine with me.”

You glance over to the time on the wall clock, seeing it’s already seven. With the frequent rain, the monster was forced to store his motorcycle away while it cleared out some more, and -- to make up for it -- his brother was now the one to either lend him his car, or take him where he needed to be. In short, letting him go back home would mean calling Papyrus two hours right before his sleep schedule. Either that, or it was sending Sans all alone off to the nearest bus stop.

You settle on neither, saying, "Want to stay over? It's late, and I've got a guest bedroom you can use."

He snickers and replies with, "Worried 'bout me?" When he notices, his grin falls, and he quickly makes up for it by adding, "Sorry. Doing that's pretty much a reflex now."

You smile and swat his shoulder, keeping your hand there. "...I don't really mind you flirting that way. I like it better than when you're straight-up obvious about it."

"Like the Mx. Serif thing?"

"Exactly." You shift on your feet, remembering one of his older comments. "That, and the ones you used to make about my... appearance."

"So you want me to be less invasive," he says, nodding. "Got it." He tries not to look down, a slight tense present in his grin. "I apologize if I ever made ya uncomfortable. I'm surprised you didn't just whack me over the head back then. Feels like I deserved it sometimes."

"Violence is not the answer." You pause, face regaining seriousness. "...Unless you cross borders you shouldn't be crossing."

"Kinda like what happened on the couch today?"

"No." You feel your throat ache the longer you talk with him, still too awkward to relax around him. "...I wanted it back then."

Sans washes his hands and gives you space to do the same. Then, he brings his sleeves down and waits until you're done washing up to accompany you to the living room. "Touch-starved?" he jokes, though you're far from taking it that way.

Seven years.

Not that you were completely, utterly desperate for a relationship, but good company was still good company. You could still use the warmth of someone else, even if it was purely platonic or familiar -- like a tight hug, or just someone else to have around the house. Wanting to depend less on Jerry's support and more on your own funds, you proposed to yourself working extra hours for as long as it was necessary. The rest of your day was either used up in chores or in spending more time with Frisk. It's only now that the monsters help you out with your child and their growth that you have additional time to do stuff like this.

"...Yes," you reply, looking away. "But that can wait."

You excuse yourself and head over to the fridge, needing some water to cure the sudden soreness to your throat; that, and you didn't really want to keep tangling yourself up in that mess.

When you've just about drank more than half a gallon, you stop and take in a deep breath, bringing yourself back to calm.

Regardless of what Frisk and Sans himself had said about living for yourself every so often, you had your set of goals already planned out. Speed-running through a relationship wasn't one, and even less considering the subject's past. You needed to know him and his intentions better before throwing yourself into it -- more than usual.

Two years of pointless arguments between you and Jerry had been enough to last you a lifetime; one of them was even more than pointless, considering you divorced by your first year. You never understood the point of submitting a child to the sight of continuous arguments if you could just find a way to stop becoming involved in what was causing that. You didn't want Frisk to feel like the root of all your problems, nor did you wish to make them feel as if they had to redeem themselves for something that wasn't even their fault to begin with. It was difficult to comprehend the thought-process behind calling out how many finances were spent on them, unless they were being a spoiled brat about it. Guilting them over the good things they had and belittling their troubles through constant comparison wasn't what you wanted, either.

But did it all have to be done by you limiting your own life and enjoyments?

Sans's advice and Frisk's words get to you, these you try to brush off for the moment being.

Fixing your situation with the monsters was more important than that.

"Ren?" a familiar voice calls out, stopping your speeding train of thought. "Is Sans staying over tonight?"

Your body freezes up, face doing the opposite.

Out of all the people you could’ve chosen to be attracted to, it had to be a person whose existence you were barely aware of until a few months ago, who you would've sworn was a contradiction to science as you knew it, and whose flirting techniques were about as low quality as a school lunch's ‘pizza’ Friday. “Yes,” you say, drinking another glass. You’ve already drank more than enough, but stress makes you want more. “It would be rude to send him home with how late it is.”

“You just want him to stay longer, don’t you?”

“That’s none of your concern, dear.”

You serve them a glass of milk, kiss their cheek, and shoo them off to bed, slumping against the fridge when they’re gone. The sound of the television being turned on follows when their footsteps grow faint, and you can hear them exchange a few words with the skeleton, though none of these you can get to understand clearly, standing so far away. “That’s their favourite movie!” is the only sentence you can decipher from them, words exclaimed. “Have fun!” They run off, footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Finally left with Sans again, you return to the living room to see him resting on the same side you’d been pinned to on the couch. You try not to remember, yet your mind proves to be cruel as it reminds you over the subtle warmth of his hands, the scent of your soap on him, and him being so close to take initiative by being the one to almost kiss you on the lips. You’d been the one to do that the first time you kissed him on the cheek back at Mettaton's hotel, though you tell yourself it was nothing special. It was mostly the heat of the moment that had caused you both to take it easy, after all. Today was an entirely different story. Compared to your approach, his was a much more complex and slow building one, waiting for you to better process his intentions and reciprocate his actions with far more sincerity compared to your stay at the hotel.

In short, you wanted to kiss him, but for real this time.

“You doin' okay?” Sans asks, seeing you arrive; he scoots further away, a simple gesture for you to sit down and join him.

“I’m... I'm okay,” you reply, nodding. “But are you really gonna watch that?” You point with your eyes at the television, your favourite movie still playing. “It’s a little lame.”

“Don’t lie.” He grins and hangs an arm behind the couch again when you settle next to him. “I’m pretty sure the kid said it’s your favourite.”

“Out of that particular genre, yes.” You stare at the screen, displaying a scene not too fitting for your situation, yet not completely out of touch either. It gives space for you to talk with him, no awkward romance scenes happening at the moment, and no loud, action-packed scenarios occurring either. Without a word, you move closer to him, letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as he brings you nearer, face resting against his chest. “Have you watched it before?”

“Today’s my first,” he says, hand lowering to your waist. He does nothing else, giving space for you to cozy up next to him the way you best deemed fit. “Feelin’ better now? You can stay for s’long as ya need.”

Aware the monster's referencing your no short of embarrassing confession from before, you shift to a straighter position, meet his irises, and glare up at him. Rather than throwing a remark back at the skeleton, you figure it’s now best to kill him with kindness. You take his cheekbone, smile, and stroke his face, smiling to better accomplish your payback.

When he looks at you -- far too earnest and warm for your liking -- you flinch and have a sudden, unconscious change of plans.

“You’re enough, you know that?” you comment, words practically slipping from your mouth. “Maybe I don’t fully understand what happened at the Underground, but... But I'd say you’ve shown you care enough to improve things you don’t like about yourself. And you've also been pretty blunt and honest with me so far, so there’s that, too.” You kiss his cheekbone, ending on a note far more wholehearted than you originally intended your payback to be. “Try to remember that next time you start criticizing yourself like that again.”

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• • •

Hello!

Before getting into some important stuff, this was meant to be yesterday's update, but I didn't have my laptop available at the time, hence the delay! I was able to update on other sites, but here I use the "keep reading" feature, which can only be accessed through a computer. (As far as my knowledge of that goes, of course -- I'm still learning how to use Tumblr!)

Now, moving to the important stuff:

A few changes will be going underway soon, such as adding the chapter navigation at the bottom of each update from the Prologue to Chapter Ten. As I mentioned in a previous author note about how late I realized I was missing something necessary for clicking on the next chapter more easily: I'm a dumbass, lol.

Also, I've made the decision of creating separate fanfics for the 4 other characters tagged in this story, along with a poll to decide which one I should work with first (as it was shown at the end of Chapter Fifteen, we've finally reached the exposition part of this fanfic, meaning other relationships will be introduced soon)! The reason why is not only to avoid coming off as misleading for those who're looking for a fanfic of that specific character only, but because rewriting this story led to it becoming much more slow burning, thus delaying the relationship development with plenty of characters. As a result, I'll modify the tags to all 16 chapters that've been published so far!

Hopefully, all those changes will be finished by next Friday. :-)

As always, take care and stay safe!

• • •

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