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sirowsky · 2 years ago

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A Little Menace 4

I have two ongoing fics that are being wholly ignored because of this adorably cute little story, that simply will not leave me be, so I'm just gonna keep going until this is done, kay? More steam, and more evil mommy backstory here.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: ornithophobia (fear of birds), cursing, yearning, some light smut, FUBAR-mom, modern!din, din djarin x female reader, no use of y/n, no description of reader. Human boy Grogu. Word Count: 2120 Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 1 Link to Part 2 Link to Part 3 Link to Part 5

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An insistent noise pulls you up from deep sleep and you confusedly fumble around under the duvet, until you’ve woken up enough to orient which part of your body is where and manage to pick up your phone from the nightstand. But it’s not your alarm that’s making all that racket. It's someone at your door.

“What the fuck…?” you grumble, looking at the clock and date on the device.

It’s not even 8am on a Saturday, and you fell asleep late since it took two releases for your body to remember that it was tired enough to need sleep, after that impromptu make-out session last night had left you wired. But the knocking isn’t going away, so you drag yourself out of bed and pull on your deep blue satin robe, not even bothering to check yourself in the mirror before you push the door open. Because your intention is to merely scream at whoever the hell is out there, to go foraging for some god damned manners.

But all words die on your tongue as you’re met by an enthusiastic 6-year-old, throwing himself around your waist with the biggest grin on his face. And behind him, the apologetic eyes of his father, trying and failing to conceal how his gaze rakes over your undressed form, from your bare legs to the lack of underwear, made embarrassingly obvious by the sudden perkiness of your nipples.

“Uh, sorry. He’s been up since 6am nagging about coming over here, and… well, it wasn’t as though I was opposed to the idea to begin with.” he explains, looking a little sheepish while still trying not to stare at your curves.

“I see. Well, I’m up now so you might as well come in.” you croak, trying to wake your throat up. “But I need coffee before playtime. Lots of it…”

Grogu lets go of you and runs into the apartment, surprising you by not heading straight for the LEGO, and instead going to the balcony to look at the little birds that are already working hard. Din follows you inside as you keep an eye on the boy, but decide not to disturb him, when he’s taking such a positive initiative by himself. You don’t hear the door close behind you, nor sense the broad expanse of his chest as Din sneaks up behind you and steals a kiss of your neck, sending shivers from the base of your skull down to your toes.

“I missed you.” he whispers, but keeps his hands off you, which is good because otherwise you don’t know how you’ll react.

“I fell asleep thinking about you.” you confess, desperately wanting to lean back into him, but knowing it won’t end well.

He doesn’t have your restraint it seems, though. Because suddenly his hands are on your hips, searing hot through the thin fabric, pulling you back until you’re flush against him and softly dragging the tip of his nose along the bottom of your ear. Even though he doesn’t make a sound, you can tell that he’s struggling, and it makes you wonder if perhaps he hasn’t really been with anyone since Grogu’s mother. Although you have no idea how long that might be.

“Sorry. Is that too much for you to know?” you ask, genuinely trying to figure out where the line between casually flirty and too obviously craving, is.

He sucks in a jagged breath and when he speaks next, his voice is rough and hot against your neck, and his hands grip you just a little firmer, as if he’s trying to keep them from wandering.

“If what I’ve seen and felt from you is accurate, then you did more than just think about me. And considering how badly I want you… yes, that might be a little too much.”

You gulp. That’s all you can do, because fuck, fuck, FUCK!! Mercifully, the kid demands your attention then, calling for you to come and tell him about a bird he doesn’t recognize, and you pry yourself out of Din’s hands and go to help him, trying to ignore the slick that’s threatening to start dripping down your bare thighs.

“What’cha got, birdman?” you say, feeling yourself fall into the teacher-role you’ve adapted to using whenever he’s there, and for a moment you wonder just when that happened. Because you’ve never been much for teaching.

He points to a small and pale bird, light brown along its sides and white towards the head, but with a batman-like black face-paint, and you gasp in surprise.

“That’s a Eurasian penduline tit. It’s extremely rare here, I’ve never seen one in real life before!” you almost squeal, while simultaneously trying to keep still and get a good look at it before it leaves.

He either understands the significance, or just mirrors you, because the boy stands perfectly still as you both watch the little creature eat his fill and then fly off.

“Thank you, Grogu.” you say, turning to look at him. “If you hadn’t come over today, I might never have seen that.”

He smiles at you, before pointing to the doorhandle, silently asking you to open it, so you do, and he walks out onto the balcony and sits down in one of your garden-chairs even though you don’t join him.

“Hey. You gonna be okay out here on your own? Cause I need some breakfast before I can join you.” you ask, but he just nods and keeps watching. “Okay, but if you get scared, let me know or come and get me.”

He nods again, looking perfectly at ease, although he’s far enough from the walls not to see the bigger birds on the ground, so he might still get startled if one of them flies by too close to the windows. You head back towards the kitchen, from where you can see the balcony and the feeder, as well as the ground around it, which is empty at the moment. The kitchen isn’t, though.

Din already has your coffee brewing and is rummaging through your cabinets for mugs when you walk in. He looks unsure at first, but when you smile at seeing him making himself at home, he relaxes and hands you one of the mugs.

“Grogu’s progress is amazing. I can’t believe it was just three days ago that he barely even dared to step out on the balcony.” you prattle on while picking things out of the fridge and pantry to make toast. “And now he’s already sitting out there alone and quite comfortably.”

“It’s all thanks to you.” Din proclaims softly, pouring the finished brew into your mugs and taking a seat at the table. “And I don’t just mean your willingness to work with him rather than reprimand him. He’s really taken to you.”

“This is gonna sound a little weird, but I feel like he’s such an easy kid to like.” you start, and see his eyebrows climb in surprise.

“That’s not what most people think.” His voice holds traces of sadness, probably from failed attempts to help his son make friends before, and it stings your heart.

“Not that I’ve spent loads of time with kids before, but that’s largely because I’ve found most kids to be kinda obnoxious. Like, my cousin’s two girls. They’re little monsters, for lack of a better description. Seriously. But Grogu… he’s so easy to read, perhaps even more so because he doesn’t talk that much. I feel like I understand everything that he’s thinking. I don’t know, maybe we’re somehow kindred spirits.” you finish with a smile and a little shrug, taking your seat as you’re done preparing your toast.

Din sits quietly for a while, sipping his coffee and alternating between peering outside at his son, and stealing glances at you, reminding you that you still haven’t gotten dressed. But his mood is different now. He’s calm and still a bit sad, and you’re hoping that he’s gonna feel comfortable enough to maybe share some things with you about his life, so you don’t attempt to start up conversation again. Had you known what he was about to tell you, you might’ve tried to lighten the mood first.

“His mother… Kathryn… we were co-workers back when I was working as a contractor at her dad’s construction company. She’s a designer and to some extent she was my superior, although not on paper.” he suddenly starts, and you find yourself hanging on his every word but afraid to ask questions or speak at all, in case it makes him close up again.

“We always had this kinda rough relationship. Not enemies, but absolutely not friends either. I don’t think she understands the concept, to be honest. But somehow, we worked really well together, perhaps because we were always second-guessing each other and double checking everything the other one did, looking for faults or flaws to tease each other about.”

He’s trying to keep his tone light, you can tell, but there’s too much pain and darkness associated with the memories, that he doesn’t come close to succeeding, and you start to feel like this story might be worse than anything you’ve ever heard. Your breakfast is forgotten as you sit frozen, absorbing every detail of the man before you.

“One night, while working on a big project away from home, we ended up drinking too much and sharing a bed at the hotel where we were staying. It wasn’t a pleasurable thing, exactly. More like, just another way of getting at each other’s throats. But it had consequences. And the only reason she didn’t abort, was because her father is deeply religious and would’ve killed her if she had. Curiously though, he had no qualms about her treating him like a plague from the moment he was born.”

His voice breaks at that, and he dips his head into his hand, so he doesn’t notice the tears that are spilling down your cheeks. Your eyes are drawn to the sweet little boy on your balcony, as pain rips through you at the thought that anyone, much less a mother, could treat a child like that.

“It was clear from the start that she wasn’t interested in building a life together, so we never even tried. She had him at her house, and I’d visit every day, and that was the only time he received any love or real attention. So, after just five months, I told her that I was gonna take him and she never even tried to have a conversation about it. She just gave me his things and all but shoved me out the door.” he says, and there’s a hint of irritation in his voice now.

“But she never bothered to sign away her maternal rights to him, so she still gets contacted about insurances and school-related things, and every time that happens, she calls me and acts like it’s my fault and that I have to make sure it stops happening and it just…” he sighs, and it sounds so unbearably heavy, “…it just hurts.”

He’s crying now too, and it’s too much. He’s sitting with one elbow resting on the table, his head still leaned against his open palm, and the rest of him angled alongside it, rather than having his legs underneath it. So, you get up from your seat and move to stand between his legs, wrapping your arms around his head and pulling him into your abdomen.

Without pause or hesitation, he accepts your embrace and instantly asks for more, putting his hands on your back and pulling you down into his lap so he can really hold you. That puts his head in line with your breasts, and he shamelessly nestles his face into the soft skin of your bosom, that’s accessible through the slit of your robe.

But he’s not looking for passion this time, just comfort, and if he finds that with you, then you’ll happily let him have it for as long as it takes for the sadness to fade away. Because it sounds like he’s been dealing with this more or less all alone for almost six years, and you want him to know that it doesn’t have to be that way anymore. That you want to be there for him, whether he needs to talk or cry or just sit quietly in the company of another grownup.

You hope that he feels it in the warmth of your touch, the secure firmness of your arms around him, the carefully whispered promise that spills from your lips.

“It’s okay to hurt with me. I won’t run away or kick you out. You’re safe here, Din.”

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Thank you for reading, and feel free to criticize, I’m always looking to learn and grow as a writer.

@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @tanzthompson @winter-fox-queen @tiffanyleen @shsoba05 @toomanystoriessolittletime @nolanell @myfavpedrothings @harriedandharassed @bruxasolta @tintinn16 @pedrostories @littlemisspascal @sj-draws00 @gallowsjoker @spishsstuff @little-mrs-morales @bilibiche

#din djarin fanfiction #modern!au #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din and grogu fanfiction #din x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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spaceman-earthgirl · 3 years ago

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Supercorp 2021 Day 17: Alien

Some supercorp and Esme for those who asked!

Fic link. Series link.

“Darling, I think that’s all you need,” Lena says, startling Kara as hands wind around her waist, a chin resting over her shoulder.

Kara leans back into the touch, just for a moment, enjoying the soft press and warmth of the body behind her. She smiles, despite the nerves swirling in her stomach as she surveys the games in front of her.

“Are you sure? I don’t want her to get bored.”

Kara feels a kiss pressed to her shoulder and then Lena is spinning her, bringing her face to face with her girlfriend. “You have a pile of games, colouring and painting set up, enough pillows and blankets to build a fort that covers this whole apartment and ingredients to bake more cookies than even you can eat. I don’t think Esme is going to get bored.”

Kara sighs. “I know, I just want her to like me.”

“You’ve met her before, we both know she adores you.”

“What if she just likes Supergirl, and not Kara?” Kara asks, her real insecurities coming out under Lena’s soft gaze.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that either, everyone loves you, and I’ve seen you with her, you’re a natural with kids.”

Despite Kara’s nerves, she can’t help but believe Lena’s sure gaze, her words strong and certain.

“Okay.” Kara lets out a long breath. “It’ll be fine, right?”

Lena smiles. “Of course, it will be. Are you sure you don’t want me to go? So you can spend some time alone with your niece?”

Kara shakes her head as she tangles her fingers with Lena’s. “No, I want you here. Besides, you’re ‘Aunt Lena,’ she’s your niece too.”

“You know that’s not accurate, right?”

Kara shrugs. “Fine, maybe not technically yet but I plan on marrying you eventually so she will be one day.”

Lena grins, and it’s only when she hears the accompanying loud beat of Lena’s heart, does Kara realise her words. They’ve been dating two weeks, or fifteen days, to be more specific. It’s fifteen days since Lena asked her to dinner and it took until they were having dessert for Kara to realise that they were on a date. Not that that would’ve changed her answer, she’s just glad she realised before Lena kissed her, or that would’ve been an even bigger surprise.

“You plan on marrying me?” Lena teases, but Kara can tell, she wants it one day too.

“Maybe,” Kara says, but she’s smiling too, the ‘maybe’ an obvious ‘yes.’

“Good,” Lena grins before she tilts forward, soft lips pressing against her own. She’ll never get tired of this feeling, of how right it feels to be able to kiss Lena now.

“They’re here,” Kara says, pulling away when she hears the sound of the elevator and suddenly all that anxiety is back.

“Breathe,” Lena says, pressing one last quick kiss to Kara’s mouth before Lena is spinning her by the shoulders again and giving her a little shove towards the door, just as there’s a knock on it.

Esme’s smile is hesitant as she steps inside the apartment, her eyes landing on Kara. Lena hangs back as Kara greets her sister and Kelly, before Kara turns towards the little girl.

“Hi,” Kara smiles.

“Hello,” Esme greets, stuffed toy tucked under her arm, wearing a pair of adorable overalls that Kara loves.

“Thanks for doing this,” Alex says, drawing Kara’s attention back to them. “We hopefully won’t be too long.” Alex and Kelly have a meeting about Esme’s adoption, Kara offering to look after the young alien while they’re busy.

“Take as long as you like,” Kara says, turning back to Esme. “We’re going to have heaps of fun while Alex and Kelly go and do boring adult stuff, right?” Not that what they’re doing isn’t important, but she wants Esme to have fun while they’re gone.

Esme’s smile grows as she nods.

Alex and Kelly leave with a “call us if you need anything” and Kara is suddenly nervous again.

Kara crouches down, and then ends up sitting cross-legged on the floor as it brings her eye level with the 5-year-old. “Before we decide what we’re going to do today, I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

Kara nods, turning to Lena who’s still hanging back and she gives her a nod too. Lena pulls a device from her pocket and clicks the button, a red glow taking over the room.

“Can you feel that?” Kara asks, turning back to Esme as her own body starts to feel heavier as her powers vanish.

Esme nods. “Your powers are gone?”

“Yes. Do you remember I told you I get my powers for the yellow sun here on Earth?” Esme nods again. “Well, on Krypton, we had a red sun, so I didn’t have powers on my planet. Lena has set up these lights so they’re like the red sun, so that when you’re here, you can relax and not worry about having my powers. I want you to be comfortable while you’re here and not worry about having my powers until you can figure out how to control your own.”

All of the apprehension that was on Esme’s face when she walked in is gone. “Thank you.”

“Of course, kiddo,” Kara smiles. “So, what do you want to do today? We could do some painting or colouring? I have some fun board games we could play or we could build a blanket fort? Have you ever built one of them before?” Esme shakes her head. “Or we could bake some cookies or watch a movie too?”

Esme looks overwhelmed by the options for a moment before she quietly asks, “can we bake some cookies?”

Kara grins. “Yes, excellent choice. Though, we have to ask Aunt Lena first, because she’s going to have to help us.” Kara can’t be trusted to bake alone, last time she nearly burnt down the kitchen and the time before she ate all the cookie dough before she could bake anything.

Hopeful eyes turn to Lena. “Can we bake some cookies, please?” Esme asks, and Kara can see the attention throws Lena for a moment before she smiles.

“Of course, we can, sweetie.”

Esme beams and Kara falls a little bit more in love, both with her niece and the woman across the room.

“Do you want me to lift you onto the counter so you can help mix the ingredients together?” Kara asks once they’ve set up the kitchen, ingredients spread out before them.

Esme nods excitedly, all fear gone, looking totally relaxed now and Kara is glad, that’s all she wants, is for Esme to feel loved and accepted and know that they’re her family now, no matter what.

Kara bends down to pick up Esme, hands under her arms, but when she lifts, she pretends the young girl is too heavy.

“Phew,” Kara breathes. “Without my powers, I’m not strong enough to lift you anymore.” She tries again, earning giggles from Esme as the girl stands on her toes, trying to make herself easier to lift.

“Lena,” Kara says with a fake sigh. “You’re going to have to help me, she’s too heavy.”

Lena gives her an affectionate eye roll but without hesitation, steps forward and lifts Esme onto the counter, smiling at the little girl. “You’re Aunt Kara is silly, isn’t she? But we love her anyway.” Lena stage whispers, Esme laughing again.

Kara wants to be offended by the comment, but she can’t be, not when Esme looks so happy and Lena is smiling so softly at her.

Once the cookies are in the oven, Esme asks if they could do some painting and Kara’s heart melts when Esme takes her hand as they cross the room.

By the time Alex and Kelly return, Esme has flour and chocolate stains on her overalls, paint all over her hands, but Kara isn’t sorry at all when Esme gives her a big hug before she leaves and asks if they can build a fort next time she visits.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #esme #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2021

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wdwmarveldisney · 4 years ago

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Hiiiii this is really dumbbbbb but I love ur work!!! Can I request one w isaac where the reader is afraid of like cutting her hair like it gives her anxiety and isaac helps her?? Idk like maybe she's stiles sister and like stiles is pressuring her about it? Thanks luv u lots ❤ totally fine if ur like whatever never doing this lol

Tonsurephobia

Isaac Lahey x Stilinski!reader with long hair

Summary: Stiles is pressuring you to cut your hair and with a fear of having your hair cut, you call Isaac to help you out.

Masterlist

A/N: Okay sorry it took so long to post this. I did a little research into this so hopefully it’s accurate too because I’d really hate to upset someone so please tell me if I got something wrong.

GIF isn’t mine

You loved your brother. Honestly, he is so important to you and you look up to him and respect him but oh my god, you just wanted to kill him sometimes. It would just get to a point where you wanted to just wack him with the thing closest to you. Like right now, you were debating throwing the book in your hands at him as he spoke. You weren't really taking any of the words in, your fierce glare unnoticed by the ranting boy. Stiles was talking to you about cutting your hair after it got in the way and almost got you killed. It had blocked your view and your shot was off and then the wolf attacked you and you're only human so it took a while to heal. And now you were being lectured on cutting it.

You would, honestly. You understood where he was coming from and you knew that it was the right thing to do but for some reason, it terrified you. Whenever you had to even think about it, you would shake and cry and it would slowly get so bad that it was a panic attack. So naturally you did your research and found out it was a common fear called tonsurephobia. Mostly seen in children but it can stick with some people as they grow older. There were quite a few ways to help with it but most involved having another person there to help reassure you and such and you weren't telling anyone about your phobia. You just knew that they probably wouldn't understand and you didn't need that.

You heard Stiles huff, your gaze flickering up and meeting his as you realised you spaced out and was staring at the book in your hands. Your brother had his arms crossed, frown on his face, "Are you even listening?" Your head tilted to the side, an expression of thought making him scoff. The book fell into your lap as your hands rested on top of it and you leant forward just a tad, "Not really, no," You watched him groan into his hands before muttering about giving up and leaving the room. As you watched him leave, you couldn't help but think that he was right. That maybe it was time to start working on it. So you called the one person you felt comfortable talking about this with.

Isaac took a little while to get there and because Stiles was home, he had to climb through your window. The first thing he had done was tackle you onto the bed which had you both giggling. You hadn't told him over the phone why you needed him but had said you needed him as soon as possible. "Hey," You ran a hand through Isaac's curls, the boy grinning as he pecked your lips a couple times. "Hi. What's up?" You shrugged, considering backing out but Isaac immediately noticed and frowned at the fact you were so panicked. Realising that he'd used his werewolf abilities to pick out your anxiety, you huffed and pouted, "Fine. I want to cut my hair,"

"Okay?"

"And I don't like having my hair cut," He looked so confused so you began to explain it in a bit more depth, "Apparently its called tonsurephobia. It's a fear of having your hair cut, I sometimes have panic attacks when I have to do it," Isaac slowly nodded in understanding and brushed back some hair out of your face. He sat up, pulling you with him, "So, you want me here to help?" You gave a small nod, linking your hand with his as you avoided any eye contact. It felt so stupid as you spoke and you were pushing down the nausea at the thought of ridicule. But Isaac just squeezed your hand tighter and tilted your head down to try and catch your eye, "Okay, so what do I have to do then?"

Isaac laughed when you looked at him wide eyed in disbelief, "So, you don't think it's weird or anything? You're, like, completely understanding?" The boy grinned as you watched him apprehensively, seemingly waiting for him to say something different. He pulled you closer, smiling sweetly as he kissed your nose, "Well, yeah. You're the same with me. So do you want me to actually cut the hair or...?" Your face relaxed and your head fell onto his shoulder in relief. You could feel him laugh and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, "Um, yes. Yeah, I want you to, um, cut it," your fingers began to fiddle with his as he nodded with a small okay.

You shakily got up and went to go get scissors but Isaac caught your wrist and pulled you back. His smile seemed hesitant and worried, "You know you don't have to, right?" At your silent nod, Isaac wrapped his arms around your waist and stared up at you with this gaze of comfort that had you relaxing slightly, "Okay, if you're sure," his fingers grazed just under your shirt as you grinned wobbly and slipped out of his arms to go over to your desk. The scissors were under a bunch of papers and pens and wires. Once you’d dug them out, you held them out to Isaac who slowly took them. Pulling the spinny chair out to the middle of the room, you fell into it with a death grip to the arm rests.

Isaac immediately noticed and placed the scissors down on the bed in order to just run his fingers through it. He could hear the trembling breaths and could see how tightly you had your eyes screwed shut. You could tell he was hesitant to do it so with one deep breath, you tried to pull yourself together. “Alright,” your voice shook and was extremely quiet compared to your usual loud sarcastic self, “Just above the shoulders, maybe. Means I won’t have to cut it for a while,” Even though you couldn’t see him, Isaac nodded and reached for the scissors and grabbed a brush from your nightstand.

He was careful and gentle, trying his hardest to not trigger anything. He knew what it was like to have this big fear of something and he knew how suffocating it could be. So he was being mindful of it all and you were so grateful for him. Isaac stopped turning you to check if it all seemed even and then he spun you to face him, holding your hands with this goofy smile that cheered you up. He quickly intertwined your fingers and when he spoke, you could hear the joking edge, “Now just remember, I’ve never cut hair before,” A small groan left your lips, smile growing slowly on your face which made him chuckle, “It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“No, I’m not that bad,” he seemed genuinely offended by your words but the two of you were giggling still as he pulled you up. You followed him to a mirror, a hand covering your eyes before it dropped and you could see yourself reflected back. Isaac arms were wrapped around your shoulders as he nervously grinned at you. The haircut wasn’t actually that bad, pretty decent. There was a few pieces that were too long or too short but they weren’t overly noticeable. You actually looked really good.

You turned to peck Isaac’s lips, thanking him as he relaxed into you. “Oh thank god,” you laughed into his hair as his head rested on your shoulder. You were so glad to have Isaac by your side.

#isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #talks about a severe phobia

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years ago

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his playlist - nolan patrick

“Don’t you just wanna lay with him and talk about nothing while listening to his playlist?”

pairing: nolan patrick x reader

warning: none

word count: 1k

a/n: surprise, i love him and his rosy cheeks so much

You're lying next to Nolan on his childhood bed in Winnipeg, listening to his playlist on Spotify. You've always loved his music taste, finding it perfectly fit the rosy-cheeked boy you're shoulder to shoulder with. He's been the best friend you've made in Philly, and when he asked you to fly down to see him for two weeks during the offseason, you hadn't hesitated to accept.

There had always been an undercurrent of sexual tension between the two of you and you couldn't deny your attraction to him. It was something about the way he was so soft-spoken and the way his long hair fell in his eyes. Watching him tuck his hair behind his ear was a religious experience in your eyes and you knew you were deeply in love with the boy beside you. Like most girls in love with their best friends, your fear of ruining the friendship greatly outweighs the small sliver of a chance that he might feel the same way.

You're talking about everything and nothing, softly complaining about the hoops you had to jump through back in Philly to get your boss to give you the time off and the snide looks that had been thrown your way by coworkers who were knee-deep in some project or another as you left Friday afternoon with a pep in your step. You bitch about the asshole on your flight who wouldn’t stop yelling about a poor baby who was crying, not realizing or perhaps more accurately, not caring that he was more of a nuisance than the poor thing.

The conversation shifts to Nol and his migraines, his fears that he would never live up to the potential everyone saw in him. The pressure of being a number two draft pick. Your heart aches at the pain in his voice and without thinking you reach over and link your fingers together. You panic a moment, but then his fingers are lacing with yours too and you wonder if maybe you're not alone in your feelings. The two of you lie like that for what feels like hours, the likes of Mt. Joy serenading you until you feel yourselves pulled into a light sleep.

Throughout the week, you feel a shift between you and Nol. You find his hands are often on you - from innocently ruffling your hair and poking your sides to your annoyance, to more purposeful touches like hands skimming your waist as he moves by and a light grip of your thigh as you sit beside him at the dinner table. It sets your insides on fire and has you wondering if he would push you away if you tilted your head just so and skimmed your lips against his, or if his hands would find your shoulders and pull you even closer. You don’t though, but you’re sure the longing is written all over your face as you watch his sisters gang up on him in the kitchen.

It’s early evening, and you’re curled up in the armchair by the fireplace, his sisters are watching some reality tv show while you read the book you had started on the plane and Nolan is nowhere to be found. You don’t mind, not really, having spent nearly every waking minute (and the minutes you spent in sleep as you’d shared a bed the entire time) together, but a part of you misses him. It’s silly really; you spend the months of the offseason apart, but something feels different. You don’t have to wait for him long, suddenly there’s a heavy weight on your legs and you place your bookmark to mark your page before depositing the book on the end table. “Can I help you?” you ask sarcastically, pointedly ignoring the looks on his sisters’ faces.

“Come outside with me, I wanna show you something,” is all he says, but the way he’s looking at you says a million things more that you’re not sure you want to decipher.

“I can’t, we’re watching,” you hazard a peek at the television behind his head, guessing at the show, “Love Island?” Your answer isn’t very sure, and by the way his sisters giggle, you’re wrong.

“Nice try, that’s the Bachelor and you couldn’t care less about reality tv,” he tells you, standing up and tugging you up with him by your hands. Though he lets go of one, the other he intertwines your fingers together again. His cheeks are rosier than usual as he pulls you through the house, but you don’t risk teasing him about them. You know the rule - don’t talk about his rosy cheeks - but that doesn’t mean you don’t admire them.

“What’s all this, Nol?” you ask when he leads you out the sliding door to the backyard. There’s a blanket spread out on the grass and you recognize his playlist streaming through his bluetooth speaker. The stars are brighter than you’d ever experienced in Philly and for a second you’re mesmerized.

“C’mon,” he mutters, pulling you to lay on the blanket much like you’d laid on his bed earlier in the week. The entire time he doesn’t let go of your hand, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand resulting in goosebumps erupting up and down your arms. “Cold?” he asks, but you roll your eyes.

“Patty.” The nickname is simple but it sounds so sweet coming from your lips. He sits up slightly, resting his weight on his elbows as he looks at you.

“I don’t-” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in a way that is very distracting. “I’m not very good at talking about my feelings but-” You can tell this is painful for him, his eyes are downcast and there’s an air of nerves about him and so you decide for the both of you - fuck the friendship - as you scoot closer and press your lips to his. You kiss for ages in his backyard in Winnipeg, the only other sound the soothing tones of his favorite playlist.

#hockey fic #nhl fic #nolan patrick fic #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick imagines #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nolan patrick fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #shelb writes

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babytaes · 4 years ago

Text

The Arcane Angel

➳ 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: “ why is it that the good-looking people are always the ones with the mad minds? Several cases of dead bodies have been discovered, and they are all linked. They are often accompanied by a pair of angel wings.”

❥ 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: jeonghan x female reader

❥ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: serial killer au, suggestive/smut, angst

❥ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 6K

❥ 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: there are some suggestive and light smut scenes, if not comfortable with them please don’t engage. Profanity. we have smirky and seductive jeonghan, what a surprise.

➳ part of the song series

↳ Because we don't want to behave

Apparently you lost control, you never really had before

Say, ooh you changed, you're not the same

You're different than the way that I loved you

When you turned around and heard a piercing scream, a shadow appeared from the dark woods. You quickly grabbed your phone, switched on the flashlight, and cast it at the shadow.

You couldn't tell what it was because all you could see were some big black wings. You slowly rose with your jacket and stepped closer to the forest, texting Jeonghan to ask about his whereabouts.

“Babe, I didn't exactly follow your instructions about staying in the car, but there's something wrong here. Call me please.”

As you peered up from your phone, you heard a ping from across the ground; he was now in front of you, wings and all. His black eyes gazed into your soul as blood dripped down his wings.

As he quickly caught you and whisked you deep into the dark night, a chuckle escaped his throat.

You didn't notice when he started going missing at odd hours of the day, particularly at night, but you did notice a slight shift in his mood whenever he returned from whatever he was doing.

You didn't want to question him or worse, catch him in the act; you'd understand if he were to come forward, right-?

When you stop talking to Jeonghan, he stops sucking on your neck. He dipped his finger into your folds, eliciting a moan from your parched throat. As your body whimpered as your high passed over you, he moved his digits faster and faster.

You both went limp as you collapsed on the bed, gasping for air, your body aching for relief as you slid the water from the bed stand gulping it down.

Jeonghan returned from the bathroom with a washcloth and gently washed you up while kissing the swollen region and giggling as he saw your reaction.

The aftermath was the best part of sex. How could someone who was so rough and passionate yet be so caring and kind? You leaned against your arm, watching him clean up the dried cum that had splattered all over your and his body.

You blew him a kiss as he finished you up, tossing the cloth in the bin, and ran over to your side, arms open. You scooted over to him and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his waist, nestling into his chest.

You mumbled a simple question against his skin, which perplexed him for a moment

“Do you love me?”

As he pampered you with several kisses on your forehead, finally landing on your lips as he drew you closer to him, his famous chuckles fell from his lips.

“I'll love you forever y/n” As you closed your eyes and remembered the unforgettable day when you met him on that fateful night, your chest began to move softly.

You were 23 and fresh out of college, ready to live and move anywhere you could, and South Korea was your first stop. Not only did you want to immerse yourself in the culture and admire the stunning architecture, but it was also time to reconnect with some old friends you made on a previous trip abroad.

You had a difficult time understanding the language and finding out the city's customs and all of their wonderful facets. However, with the aid of your college classes and friends, you were able to shape phrases and sentences that would assist you in getting around the area.

You texted your friend Min-Su as you walked to the airport entrance with your luggage, waiting for her car to arrive. A beep alerted you, and you dashed over to the white car, arms outstretched, as she parked and opened the trunk to load your belongings.

As she rushed over to you and wrapped you in a long-awaited embrace, she let out a cry. As you tightly clenched her waist and soaked in this quality time with her, a tear streamed down your cheek.

As you both jumped in the car, a grin grew on her face, and within minutes, you were blasting music from the aux, resuming where you all left off!

“Do you recall the group of boys we met the last time you were here?” You stood up from the sofa, glaring at her grin.

“If you start a sentence with sooooo, you know it's not going to be good.” As you sat back on the sofa, you heard her laugh, and a shadow came to a halt over your body and spoke.

“Well, that's accurate, but they've invited us to a kickback at their place. I did mention you were returning to town after a long absence.”

You jumped from the sofa and dashed to the fridge for a drink as a hand flew to her thigh as she rubbed it. You relaxed on the island while sipping your water, curious about her proposal.

“Will Jeonghan be there." Min- Su's head whipped around, raising her brows and smiling, she chuckled in your direction.

“Perhaps you'll have to come if you want to find out.” You rolled your eyes at her and walked back to your temporary room, shouting at her as the door closed behind you.

“Text me the details, I'm going to lie down and rest my eyes, and fuck you!”

As you closed your eyes, you heard a snicker, followed by an “I love you too.”

As you blinked away the crust and sleep with your eyes half-closed, trying to block out the noise from the phone, your alarm goes off. Min-Su kindly entered the room and turned off the alarm for you. In response to her behavior, you waved your hand at her.

“Get your butt up, Luv. You must have been exhausted because you slept for three hours straight. “Jet lag.” You awoke suddenly and checked your phone; it had been 3 hours. As you trudged to your suitcase in search of something to wear, an unavoidable yawn slipped out of your throat.

When you reached your bulky suitcase, a stretch took over your body, and a hand flew to your face as you tried to relieve the pain.

“I'm not sure what you're wearing, buttttt you got an hour to get ready."

As you tried to process what she had said, your eyes flew up at her.

A damn hour, to cover up all this. Jeez

You ran over to your phone and switched on your speaker, hoping to speed up the process of getting ready after being awakened by the startling news. With voices coming through the speaker, you hurriedly applied your makeup and found some comfortable shoes before hurriedly throwing on a bag and heading out the door.

“I'm not going to lie, I'm blown away. I look so damn hot. See, Min-Su, you had nothing to be concerned about.” As you approached the entrance, she rolled her eyes at you, where you could already hear voices and music blasting.

Here we go

You cursed yourself as you remembered that you hated going to these parties when Min-su opened the door and was greeted by shouts of random shouting. You didn't like loud noises, and many people made you feel uneasy, but you were always there to have a nice time.

You clutched Min-Su's hand as she led you to the kitchen, which smelled strongly of booze. You noticed a familiar group of people approaching you from down the hall. When you realized who it was, a grin spread across your face.

“Is that Y/N, THE Y/N, it's been a long time, and we've missed you dearly.” Cheeky Seokmin hugged you with open arms, and as you returned the hug, more of the other members came into the kitchen looking for you.

Except for one male, everybody received their fair share of hugs about 5 minutes later. You noticed his figure leaning against the kitchen door frame, sipping whatever he was drinking and paying no attention to you. He had the same appearance as before, except now he had black locks cascading down the front of his forehead. He turned to you with a smirk on his face, eyeing you up and down until he left the room.

So we're playing this game are we now.

When excused to go get some "juice," you swallowed the bitter taste and let out an enthusiastic yell as you flew your hands up in the air, gathering another drink and chasing the prey out the back door towards the pool.

You were already stumbling out the door, even though you had only had two drinks. As you turned around with the biggest smile on your face, a hand landed on your back.

As he shifted you to the closest chair he could find, a perplexed Seungcheol kept you steady. He sat you down and looked you in the eyes. You weren't yet wasted, but you were on your way there, and a few more drinks would have put you out.

When he gave you his cup and urged you to drink, you looked up and took it, perplexed.

“Don't worry, it's just water,” says Seungcheol

You took a swig and chuckled at him as you gasped at his remark.

“Wait, so the famous Seungcheol isn't drinking?”

“No, hold up, I'm the "designated driver," which means I've just had one drink so far. Someone has to keep an eye on these boys.” He rolled his eyes at you and turned to face the other partygoers who were dancing to the noisy yet soothing music.

A hiccup escaped your throat when you caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. He was looking fucking good once more. You set your cup down and stood up, bowing to Seungcheol and thanking him for the short conversation.

You gathered your courage and approached him; it was almost as if he was teasing you as if he was playing a game with you. When all you wanted to do was fu-

He had already walked up the stairs, waiting for you as you reached the back door before you could reach him. As you ascended the stairs, you saw him reach the last room and excused yourself through the crowd.

“Hello, Y/N, it's been a long time since we've seen each other.” You walked into the room to find him casually typing on his phone on the bed frame.

You sat on the opposite side of the bed, shutting the door, and crossed your arms, laughing at his remark.

“I admire how you put on this show when you begged me to return this summer. “Something must have changed,” When he looked up from his phone as he got out of bed and approached you, he had a devilish grin on his face.

He took a step closer to you, almost whispering, as he stood over your small frame.

“Says a lot for someone who was basically begging me to fuck them senselessly. “Did you miss something or?” When you grabbed his shirt and yanked him closer to you, he licked his lips.

“How about we pick up where we left off and see if you can keep your promise.” He pushed you down on the bed and kissed you without breaking the kiss as you tossed his clothes to the side as the last words left your mouth.

He looked up at you with carnivorous eyes and spoke loudly until he hit your core.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun; I'm so glad you're back.”

And with that, you guys were back to being your usual horny selves.

As you slowly open your eyes and search the room for Jeonghan, you stir in your sleep. It was pretty early in the morning, so he must have gone out. Your hand grabbed the television remote and turned it on.

The news lady began speaking as you were distracted by your phone, oblivious to the events she was discussing. You dialed Jeonghan's number to see where he was. To be honest, you miss seeing his face first thing in the morning and before he goes to work.

(In News Voice) “According to recent reports, the Arcane Angel has struck once more. At 4:30 a.m., a young man's body was reportedly discovered at the scene off of 3rd Street on Seoul Ave. We've just received news that another pair of angel wings have been discovered at the crime scene, coated in the blood of the deceased. This is the third body this month, for a total of eight bodies in the last three months. To the neighborhood, we ask that you remain safe while we investigate who is responsible. Now let's talk about the weather.”

You looked up from your phone and gasped at her words; this jerk has yet to be caught. You recall a similar case from when you first arrived a few years ago. And you thought they'd figured it out by now.

The thought of their intentions made you shiver. You took a brief breather before getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom, where you stripped off your clothes and entered the shower.

It wasn't long until you heard the door open and a few voices, as you scrubbed your body trying to figure out who it was. “Maybe he didn’t go to work, you never know with him”

As you finished up, turning off the water and getting out of the shower, a grin crept across your lips as you heard the bedroom door open and a familiar voice ringing in your ears.

Jeonghan guffawed and dashed to your side, hugging you closely as you wrapped yourself in a robe, pouting as he leaned his head on your shoulder.

“You should have left it open; you know all access for my eyes only.”

You slapped his chest and turned to face the mirror, attempting to do your skincare. Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your neck and kissed you deeply. As your eyes were rolling, you let your neck fall into his arms.

Still, in ecstasy, you let him pick you up and put you down on the counter after he united your rob and tossed it to the side.

“The fact that you can't just let me do anything I want without it leading to more. Aren't you such a needy person?” You chuckled as he rolled his eyes at you, and as your back slumped against the mirror, trying to catch your breath, he started to eat you out while spreading your legs.

As he pulled yourself closer to his mouth in an attempt to build more tension, a cry escaped your throat.

As you tried to talk, you whimpered. “Hannie... faster—faster-fast. As you held on to his hair for support, your words failed to come out. As he pinned you down, he started to lick harder, and slick juices poured out of you as you panted.

He cleaned the cum off the back of his hand and sucked up the remainder while he laughed at your disheveled appearance.

“Whenever I do that, you literally fall apart. Also, get ready because I want to take you out today have”

As you walked out the bedroom door, he gave you another kiss on your wet core. You shook your head and gently got up, you laughed and called out to him, tightly securing the robe around your body.

“You can't just spring that upon me after what you just did. Also, It's not my fault you're so good at it.”

You came out of the bathroom in a casual outfit and moseyed over to the sofa, where you were surprised to see more people than you had expected. Mingyu, Hoshi, Joshua, and Seungcheol were all laughing on the sofa, much to your surprise.

You waved to everyone before sitting on Jeonghan's lap and whispering in his ear.

“If I had known there was company, I would have been quieter.” He replied with a chuckle into your ear.

“It's not because I had to prove to them who is mine and who can satisfy you as well as I can. No, it's not me.” As you lay on his lap, shielding your face, he kissed your temple and wrapped his arms around your waist.

As the discussion progressed, the subject of the Arcane Angel crept into the conversation, and everyone's expressions fell silent. You entwined your hand with Jeonghan as you gazed down at your arms. You spoke and looked at the others.

“Do you think this guy will ever approach us; we have no idea what his intentions are. He was pursuing young males last I heard.” As you looked at Jeonghan shaking his head, you felt a grip on your palm.

Why did they not want to talk about this?

“Why don't we go out now?” Jeonghan said, tapping your arm. “The mood is dropping, and I'd like to hang out with my girl.”

You grinned and stood up, grabbing a coat from the rack and saying goodbye to everyone when you heard Jeonghan calling out to his friends.

“Please don't make a mess, and remind Joshua of tonight; we don't want anyone to be late.”

Joshua gave him a thumbs up and stood there watching as we shut the door behind them, leaving the house silent

As you got into the car, you held Jeonghan's hand as you pulled out of the driveway humming as he entered the lanes.

“So, what were you and Joshua talking about?” “Do you mind if I come?”

As he considered his extracurricular behaviors, he caught a glimpse of your pouty face and broke down inside.

With a shake of his head, he expressed his dissatisfaction

“Not this time, love, me and the guys... we have a meeting” You scowled at his remark as you cocked your head to the side. He locked his gaze on you once more, tightening his grip on you as you crossed your legs aimlessly, staring out the window, oblivious to his presence.

He has gotten good with lying, hmm?

“Babe, please look at me.” As you guys walked into the park, he jumped up and down. You laughed and didn't seem to notice his movements. If you're going to be so mysterious, I suppose I'll follow suit.

As you filmed the scenery with your camera pointing towards the lake, little ducks emerged from the water and walked towards you both. You cooed at the baby ducks waddling around the mother as you walked over to them.

As you got closer to the birds, you talked softly to the smallest one, smiling as you returned your gaze to Jeonghan.

“You know little one, don't get a boyfriend because all they do is lie and hide secrets from their lovely girlfriend.” When you turned around and saw Jeonghan, a grin appeared on your face.

As he looked down on you with a sulky smile on his face, you instantly chuckled and hugged him, telling her that you were just... partly joking.

“I c-could bring you if you really want to go so bad.” However, you must stay in the car.” You leaped into the air and kissed him on the cheek before sprinting past him to a grassy open field.

As you sat out your picnic spread waiting for your smiley boyfriend, you smiled as you saw him jogging up to you. He arrived and sat down, removing the food from the basket and clearing space for the meal.

You took out two wine glasses, one of which you passed to him, and afterward you went to get the champagne. He watched you with fascination as you poured champagne into his glass.

“Cheers to this beautiful day, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for bringing me on this ride. I believe we both agree that this was something we all needed. With this maniac on the loose, things have been tense, but I'm glad I have you to help me stay safe through it all, I love you.”

He draws you tighter to him and smashes his lips on you instead of his playful smirk that he usually has on his face when you get all gushy. As you scoot closer to him and close in on the empty space, his tongue slips in and out of your mouth

As he caressed your face and patted the open space between his thighs, he pulled back and massaged your head. You slid closer to him and sat in between his lap, kissing his hand lightly and resting your head on his chest, soaking it all in.

It was late at night, about 12 a.m. The atmosphere was much darker than it appeared on the surface. As he pulled into an empty parking lot overlooking a forest, you peered over at Jeonghan. You couldn't tell who was there, but the other boys' cars were familiar.

With a smile on his face, Jeonghan switched off the car and faced you.

“First and foremost, as I previously said, you must remain in the car. I and the guys have this meeting and we will be out late. So, if you get tired or need to return home, I'll leave my keys with you. I'll be able to get a ride home with Joshua. If you get hungry, I have left some snacks in the back. “Are you sure?”

You cocked your head and shook your head, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What are you guys doing in the woods for a “meeting?” It seems suspicious, and it will take that long. Tell the others not to stay out late because the Arcane Angel is still out there.”

He laughed as he rolled his eyes at your joke and took a bag from the back.

“Out there is a little cabin, So it's not just meeting on a grassy patch. And I'm not sure why they picked that name for him-- I mean for them. I suppose it's catchy. But don't worry about me; I'm capable of looking after myself.”

You snickered as you reclined in your chair, pulled out your iPad, and opened Netflix.

“If you say so, don't forget to kiss me before you go. Remember those movies where the girlfriend kisses the man and then gets murdered? That is something I do not want to happen.”

“I swear, you're such a drama queen.” He kissed you repeatedly before opening the door and waving to you as he approached the other boys near the car. He turned around and waved before walking into the woods.

You shut yourself in for a few hours by turning on the drama you were currently watching. Knowing you, it was only a matter of time before you finished the series, and this quiet time provided you with enough opportunity to do so.

Before you let loose and relax, you took out the snack bag and pulled out some chips, then hit play and settled in for the ride.

As you turned off your phone, you rubbed your eyes and yawned. When you looked out the window, it had sufficiently darkened, and you checked the time, it was 2 a.m. To get some fresh air, you rubbed the back of your neck and opened the car door.

You gently jumped out and stretched while allowing your legs to regain some energy. You heard a scream coming from the direction of the forest as you walked around for a while. You were startled, but not completely terrified.

As you rushed to the car, grabbing your phone to record for evidence, another scream echoed from the forest.

Maybe it was the Arcane Angel? Imagine the headline, the stunning Y/N Y/L/N caught the Arcane Angel. How cool.

You grabbed your jacket and threw it on and ran towards the direction of the forest, switching on your flashlight to aid you in the moonlight.

Stay in the car, my ass.

As you aimlessly walked through the forest looking for something, you could hear the crisp leaves under your feet as you stomped on them, offering small entertainment. As you move deeper into the trees, you put your hand in your pocket and hug your cold body even tighter.

Why the fuck are they so deep. remind me to not come to these “meetings” anymore

A shadow crossed your path before you could process what had happened. It was hard to tell what it was, but it was moving quickly. It was almost gliding, more like flying.

When you turned around and heard another piercing scream, a shadow appeared from the dark woods. You flung your light at the shadow.

You couldn't tell what it was because all you could see were some big jet-black wings. When you smelt something in the breeze, you took a step back and scrunched your brows in disgust.

It smelt rotten.

When you looked around, you heard more strange sounds that perplexed you. You weren't about to become a statistic. You cursed to yourself when you sent a text to Jeonghan.

“Babe, I didn't exactly follow your instructions about staying in the car, but there's something wrong here. Please call me.”

As you peered up from your phone, you heard a ping from across the ground; he was now in front of you, wings and all. His black eyes gazed into your soul as blood dripped down his wings.

As he quickly caught you and whisked you deep into the dark night, a chuckle escaped his throat.

You screamed and thrashed about in an attempt to free yourself from his clutches, shouting to the dark night for help. Nothing worked, and as you soared through the air, not daring to look up at the figure, you knew you were in for a long trip.

When you knew you were bound in a chair and blindfolded, a chuckle escaped your mouth. From the other side of the wall, you heard a "whoosh" sound. You struggled to spin around to see who it was and what it was after.

“You know, this whole thing makes me laugh so hard. This is what happens when you're nosy. You remember, the nosy ones always die first.”

Before you could process what was happening, a figure appeared in front of you and removed your blindfold. You blinked a lot, trying to take in the light when looking at the person in front of you.

“Fuckin Jeonghan, I knew it was true; my suspicions were right. At the very least, you could've at least been more secretive about it.”

He gave you a puzzled look and coughed at you as he leaned in his chair in front of you.

“Wait, tell me what you're talking about. You knew who I was all along.”

You laughed and threw your head back, unable to believe what you were seeing in front of you. You smirked as you crossed your legs.

As Jeonghan looked at you, a gust of wind came out of nowhere, causing you to break free from the rope spinning around the wisp of cloud, exposing your true identity to Jeonghan.

"Witchcraft"

As he took in the scene in front of him, he gasped and staggered back. As he scrambled to his feet, attempting to appear presentable in front of you, he struggled to get the words out. You chuckled at him and shook your head.

“This one isn't going to sit well with the Council.”

You ran your hand through your hair and shook off the dust from your chilling entrance.

You crept up to him, crossing your arms and placing your fingers all around his neck, soaking it all in. You didn't expect him to learn about you so quickly, but I suppose things happen.

He shook his head and swept his hand through his hair, still perplexed by what had occurred.

“All right, before you start talking, let me get to start. Who are you, and what did you do with my girlfriend, and who the hell do you think you are?"

You came to a halt and slowly turned around, chuckling in his direction. You leaned in close to his face, whispering something into his ears. The atmosphere had darkened by at least a factor of ten.

“Well, your "girlfriend" is still right here, if you must know. She's just gone for the time being, and I'll explain. You're welcome to get a drink. I heard you and your "gang" were on their way to a meeting. “How are things going?”

He stood there watching as you talked directly into his ears; he wasn't sure if he liked this new version of you, but it was certainly sexy when you explained your part in the story.

“So, Mr. Yoon, where shall I begin?” Waiting for his answer, you cocked your head to the side and crossed your legs.

“Why don't you just tell me, how do you know the Council?” he thought as he raised his eyes to the side.

As you told him the story, you leaned forward and winked at him with an "ah" smile on your face.

“First and foremost, if you must remember, I am not from here. I'm from The Ode, a small town that you've probably heard of. Anyway, you're a bit of a prick, you know. You cause trouble wherever you go, and when you do, it always falls on our people. Aren't you aware of that-?”

“Well, it is my specialty you know,” Jeonghan smirked and snickered at you.

You rolled your eyes and motioned him to close his mouth with your hand.

“Anyway, The Council figured I'd be a good choice to keep an eye on you, kind of like a guardian angel. BUTTTTT I must admit, you have a knack for persuading people. To make it worse, I couldn't stay for long because I had to return to The Ode for mandatory training and other boring stuff.”

As you spoke, you looked at Jeonghan, and he focused on you as your words came out of your mouth.

“Last but not least, they assigned me to look after you after I completed all necessary training. The first time I met was the start of it all, you were still annoying back then-"

“Hey, I mean you still dated me”

“I didn't mean to "date" you in the first place. Things just started happening and I was in too deep to get out. I'm not upset about it. I've had a wonderful time with you over the last few years, but I've strayed from the mission. The only reason I'm here is to keep an eye on you and keep you from getting into any mischief. Unfortunately, Iook at where we are.”

As he tried to hide his blush from you, he snickered. After that, he gasped and looked at you.

“So, were you sincere in dating me, or was it just part of the plan?”

When you explained yourself, you looked into his eyes. As you said, meeting him wasn't part of the plan, but you were happy you did. You loved his faults and all, even though he was an egotistical ass with a big ego.

“Yes, Jeonghan,” you said slowly as you shook your hand in front of him. I guess you have good hands and good flirting skills.”

“I mean, what else can I say-”

“Shh, I'm not done yet.”

He scowled at you, crossed his arms, and squirmed around like a child throwing a tantrum.

“All in all, I'd say. I'm not sure what will happen to me as a result of my huge disaster on this mission. It wasn't all bad, though. I had a great time with you and the guys and created some new memories that will last a lifetime. Perhaps I will convince the Council to let me stay for a while.”

He sprang from his chair and knelt at your side, pleading with you to do so.

“Please, Y/N, I don't know what I'll do without you.” He secretly peered up through one eye and put on a pouty smile in an attempt to win you over. You chuckled and shoved him to the ground, laughing at his antics.

“Sooo... Which do you want to know first, the good or the bad?'

“Bad news,” Jeonghan said quickly as he rose from the cabin chair.

“Well, the bad news is that we will have to move to a different area. You caused enough havoc in this one that the Council decided to cover it somehow. The good news is that they're letting me stay; I think I had an effect on you.” You smirked and flipped your hair, laughing at him.

“And where did the guys go? It's been a couple of hours. It’s 4 a.m. and they're still out?”

Jeonghan gasped and dashed to his phone, chuckling as he brushed his hand through his hair, dialing the boy's numbers. When you came closer to the call, you could hear the boys' voices and different laughter. He gave you a sidelong glance and rubbed his head, avoiding eye contact.

“Soo bad news... We still have one more guy to deal with, and we can't just let him go. He'll be the last one, I promise. But we have to hurry because the sun is rising.”

Your face was pressed into your hands as you screamed and punched him in the shoulder. He raced around the room, avoiding your savage blows, before bolting out the door.

He spread his wings and teased you in the air as he spread his wings and hovered over you.

“Haha, you don't have any wings,” he teased as he blew raspberries at you. You won't be able to catch me.”

This bitch really thinks I don’t have wings.

You covered your mouth to stifle the laugh that was escaping your lips, and before you could return the joke, you turned in the air, passing the moon quickly. As you smirked in front of Jeonghan, the rays of light shimmered on your velvety wings.

“So, what exactly did you say...?”

You smirked at him and flew off into the darkness, yelling at him to hurry up.

He flew towards you, scrunching his brows and pouting.

“Heyy, that's not fair. Yours look way cooler than mine.”

On your way to the boys' location, you saw Jeonghan flying far ahead of you. He was the sort to flaunt all of his tricks while flying. As you peacefully watched him, he twirled and twisted in the air, gradually slowing down to fly alongside you.

“So, Y/N, would I have met you if I hadn't been so hot and a killer?” You sneered at his phrasing and pushed him away from you, which elicited a chuckle from him.

“To be honest, I'm not sure. I'm glad, though; you've improved my life in several ways. Living on The Ode became tedious after a while. I suppose you might suggest your heinous deeds drew me in.” You chuckled while covering your mouth, attempting to ignore the cringe that ran down your spine.

As you dropped to the ground, he grinned at you and took your hand, holding you close. He kissed your brow and extended his hand, which you gladly accepted and kissed.

“Now there's my lovely girlfriend.”

“So, what do we have here?” says Jeonghan. He walked up to the badly beaten man and knelt down, laughing at his terrified expression. As he looked up at Jeonghan, the man was terrified and panicked.

“Please let me go. I'm not going to do it again. Please don't kill me, I promise. " As he turned to face you, Jeonghan cackled, his eyes narrowed into a lethal stare, and his mood darkened. When he looked up at him, the man's breath hitched in his throat. No... your th-the, The Arcane Angel, As Jeonghan lunged at him and pulled out his heart, splattering blood everywhere as he held it in his hand, inspecting it, he let out piercing screams.

"Isn't it just satisfying, did you see him stuttering when he mentioned my name. The Arcane Angel. It's growing on me.

You look down at your shirt, realizing that blood has splattered all over it. As Jeonghan approached you, tossing the heart to one of the members, you shook your head at him.

He removed the blood that had fallen on your face with his clean hand. He smirked and kissed you on the mouth, wiping the blood from his wings.

“You're very sexy covered in all that blood,” he grinned as he looked you up and down.

You slapped his shoulder as you cringed at his remark.

“I know I am, but could we please hurry up?” I'm getting tired, and you guys still need to clean up this mess. I'll keep this one off the books, but let's get out of here before I lose my cool.” You threw them a pearly white smile as you sarcastically laughed.

The other members chuckled and nodded in agreement with you. You could see Joshua holding the lifeless man on his back as he, Mingyu, and a few others flew away, waving farewell to the rest of us made our way to the cars.

You looked at Jeonghan, who was wiping the rest of the blood off of him with some wipes he found in your bag. You didn't mind his whole act, you concluded.

Some flaws I can live with.

As you skyrocketed through the air, waiting for him, you chuckled to yourself. He looked at you, puzzled, and threw the remaining wipes into his pocket before flying up to you grabbing your hand.

“Hey, why are you laughing at me?”

“Because it's strange how quickly you switched it off. Like, go off actor” You bragged about him while raising your hand in the air and waving it around.

As he looked at you, he laughed and shook his head. He realized he had finally met someone who accepted him for who he was, wings and all. He loved your expressions as you continued to describe how he flew at the man like a lunatic.

He inched closer to you and put his finger over your mouth, suppressing your words.

“I know I looked cool, but let's talk about something more positive. Like where the hell we’re moving to, I didn't expect that."

“Oh, yeah, I didn't tell you, The Council will take care of that; all we have to do now is return to the Control Center in T-Minus 8 hours.”

He turned to face forward and said, "Oh," as you both approached the car. As you hopped into the car, sighing at the day before you, your wings both retracted in your backs. You planted a kiss on Jeonghan's cheeks before closing your eyes.

He took one look at your worn-out body and began driving towards home

Thanks for staying with me Y/N.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years ago

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to be honest, capable (of holding you) (part 1/3)

He walks forward, crouching over the snake, and when it doesn’t stir at all, he works up his courage and pokes it, just a little. Its scales are warm and smooth under his fingertip, and he resists the urge to stroke them. He doubts he could get away with that.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Thomas didn't know that Janus could turn into an actual snake, but he's glad to hang out with him regardless. More than glad; ecstatic, even, because he's been trying to figure out how to befriend him for ages, and this seems like a good first step. What he can't figure out is why human-Janus is being so weird about it.

(Alternatively: Janus doesn't trust easily. He wishes he could stop trusting Thomas— it would be so much less terrifying.)

Chapter Warnings: brief fear of strangulation (no actual strangulation occurs)

Chapter Word Count: 2,926

Pairing: platonic Thomceit

(part 2) (part 3)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

It starts with the snake in the sunshine.

Thomas supposes that’s not entirely right, because in order to be truly accurate, he would have to acknowledge that ‘it’ started a long, long time ago, when he was a kid, or perhaps even when he was a baby. He’s not certain; he’s never thought to ask any of the sides when, exactly, they developed. And he’s also not certain when they became… the way that they are, instead of just being regular, non-sentient parts of his personality like literally everyone else on the planet is made up of, when his heart became someone called Patton, his logic someone called Logan, and so on. But he doesn’t think that any of that is particularly relevant for this specific situation, so for all intents and purposes: it starts with the snake in the sunshine.

He spots it when he’s coming down the stairs, and promptly stops up short on the third to last step, because, snake. In his apartment. And he knows that things like this happen in Florida, knows that wildlife has a tendency to encroach on human settlements (and he has heard enough horror stories about alligators in people’s backyards to last a lifetime, thank you), but it’s never happened to him before, and he’s not sure what to do about it.

It’s lying in the sunlight slanting through the window, coiled tightly, unmoving. It is white, with dappled yellow patterns all across its back, though there appears to be some kind of black marking on its head. It’s fairly large, too, far larger than any snakes he’s seen outside of a zoo, and he briefly entertains the notion that this might be a zoo escapee, though he’s not certain of how that would have happened. Or of how it got into his apartment in the first place. He definitely would have noticed it sneaking through the door, right?

He manages to overcome his initial fear, carefully dismounting the last few steps and approaching cautiously, sure to stay out of striking range. He doesn’t know much about snakes, doesn’t know how to tell if this is a venomous one or not, and he’s not taking any chances. Though, isn’t it something to do with the shape of their heads? Don’t venomous snakes have pointed heads? That sounds right. And this snake’s head doesn’t look particularly angular, so perhaps he’s safe, though he still doesn’t want to get bitten, venomous or not. The next step should probably be to call animal control and let them handle this.

Something about it seems off, though. Something in its markings, perhaps, that particular shade of yellow, or that odd blot on its head—

Wait. That can’t be right.

He stops. Takes a few steps forward, squinting. Goes so far as to rub his eyes, because perhaps there is a spot in his vision, fooling him into seeing something that doesn’t exist.

But no, it’s still there.

The black spot on its head isn’t a natural marking at all. He’s still not entirely sure his eyes can be trusted, but for all the world, it appears as though there is a tiny black bowler hat perched between this snake’s eyes.

And just like that, everything clicks. All the fear rushes out of him at once, leaving him breathless with relief. He can’t say that there is no apprehension about this new set of circumstances, and a healthy dose of confusion is steadily building, but this is far better than there being an actual, real snake in his apartment.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Slowly, the snake lifts its head, looking up at him with slightly glassy eyes. For a few seconds, they both participate in what has to be the strangest staring contest of Thomas’ life. Thomas loses, because the snake that is probably-almost-definitely-Janus doesn’t seem to blink.

Snakes don’t have facial expressions. Thomas is fairly certain of that. And yet, he gets the distinct impression that Janus is waiting for something; it’s in the gleam of his eyes, the slight tilt of his head, almost like he’s issuing a challenge.

“It’s totally cool if it is,” he clarifies, raising his hands. “Uh, you can feel free to stay there as long as you want. But uh, I just wanted to make sure that it was you and not some random snake.” He smiles, casting about in his mind for something to say. He’s not yet sure how to talk to Janus, not sure how to interact with him now that he’s offered up his acceptance, but he’s certainly going to try his best. He wants to get to know him, wants to understand him better. He deserves nothing less. “There’s only room for one snake in this apartment.”

Janus stares at him for a while longer, and then nods, a fluid, intelligent motion that is slightly disturbing coming from something that looks like an animal, but Thomas can deal. If his sides can shapeshift into his friends, and puppets, and giant frog monsters with abs, he can cope with his snake-like side becoming an actual snake. It’s hardly the weirdest thing he’s ever seen.

Janus returns to his coiled up position, apparently intent on taking a nap, and frankly, Thomas can’t blame him at all. A nap sounds great right about now. He’s not entirely sure why Janus has chosen to do so here, rather than in the mindscape; he’s certainly never seen any of the other sides sleep in his apartment. But he’s hardly about to make Janus leave, even if he’s bemused and a bit discomfited, so he wanders off to grab a snack and get back to editing, leaving Janus to sleep in the sunlight.

He’s gone by evening, and Thomas isn’t entirely sure when he left. It’s a few days before he shows up again, in the exact same spot, in the exact same sunbeam, and Thomas greets him but otherwise leaves him be.

From then on, it sort of becomes a thing. On cloudless days, Janus pops up as a snake to sun himself in the living room. Sometimes Thomas will chat with him, making idle conversation that he’s not sure is listened to, and sometimes he stays silent, content to do his own thing while Janus does his. It turns into a comfortable habit, on his end, at least, and he hopes that Janus is comfortable with it too. He thinks he is; at least, he never gives any indication otherwise.

He’s still not sure why exactly this is happening, but he hardly feels the need to complain.

But then, Thomas walks downstairs one day to find Janus staring directly at him.

He pauses, thrown by the change to their routine. Most of Janus’ body is curled in on itself, like usual, but his head is reared, and as Thomas watches, he sways back and forth slightly, a constant, seemingly automatic motion. His tongue flickers in the air, but he makes no sound, neither hissing nor speech, and though Thomas isn’t sure that he’s capable of talking while he’s like this, he’s heard him hiss a few times, so this silence is unnerving.

“Hey,” he says uneasily. He gives a half-hearted little wave, which he regrets almost instantly, feeling like an idiot. “Uh, is something the matter?”

Janus looks pointedly to the window behind him, and then back to Thomas again. It only takes Thomas a few seconds after that to realize what the issue is.

It’s raining.

And not a light rain, either, not the kind that casts grey shadows over the world and taps gentle, soothing rhythms against the windowpane. This is a storm, dark and furious, wind whipping and tearing into the trees and sending gust after gust of the torrential downpour against the glass. It is late afternoon, but it may as well be night for how dark the sky is. There is certainly no trace of sun poking through, and thus, no light for Janus to lie in.

He walks closer, though hesitantly. “I’m not sure what to tell you, buddy.” He winces as soon as he says it; ‘buddy’ doesn’t fit Janus at all, feels too presumptuous, like he’s assuming a closeness that doesn’t yet exist. He’ll keep trying. “I can’t control the weather.” He pauses, looking back to the snake, who has drawn up slightly, his head now almost level with Thomas’ waist. “Um, is there not anywhere in the mindscape that you could find some sun?”

Janus hisses, loud and sharp, opening his mouth to flash some fang. Instinctively, Thomas takes a step back.

He’ll take that as a no.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I’m not sure what to do, then,” he says. “It’s supposed to be like this all day.”

Snakes cannot look disappointed. They cannot glare. They are literally incapable of those facial expressions. So how Janus is managing to convey angry dejection is absolutely beyond him. And he doesn’t know how to comfort him, doesn’t know if comfort would even be welcome; in a way, Janus is a lot like Virgil, not that he would ever dare to speak that opinion out loud. They present themselves entirely differently, but at their core, they are both proud, stubborn and guarded, if in varying ways. Thomas has learned Virgil fairly well by now, knows how to slip past his walls, but Janus is a different story.

But still, seeing him so disappointed doesn’t sit right with him. So he reaches out on instinct, running a finger down the scales just past his head in an attempt to offer comfort through touch, and he doesn’t realize that this may have been a mistake until Janus stiffens, going completely rigid and still. He pulls his hand back hastily.

“Sorry!” he says. “I should’ve asked first, I’m sorry.” He frowns, glancing from Janus to his finger and back again. “You’re really cold. Is that normal?”

Snakes are cold-blooded. He does know that much, knows that they rely on external factors in order to maintain their body temperatures. He just never thought that such a restriction would apply to Janus, considering that he is, in fact, an imaginary snake and not a real one. But if he’s wrong, if Janus truly does need an outside source of heat in order to stay warm himself, then that would explain his distress.

Janus hisses at him again and ducks back down, curling into himself until he resembles a convoluted knot, his head nowhere to be seen. It’s almost upsettingly cute, not that Thomas would risk voicing such a thought. He crouches down instead, considering his options. Would Janus accept his help, if he offered it?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Um, look, I can’t turn on the sun for you, but you look super uncomfortable, so if you wanted, you could… wrap around my arm, or something? Body heat would help, right?” He hesitates; Janus is fairly long, probably about five feet, possibly a bit longer, so the logistics might be a bit tricky. But he’s sure they could figure it out, if Janus would be amenable. Slowly, he stretches a hand out again, placing two fingers on Janus’ scales and stroking them with a feather-light touch. He really does feel cold.

Janus uncoils himself, hissing loudly, but he leans into the contact in a way that almost seems like desperation, like he’s trying to steal all the warmth he can from Thomas’ fingertips. And after a moment, the hissing stops, and he regards Thomas with an almost wild stare.

“Really,” he presses, unsure of what Janus is thinking. “I wouldn’t mind. Unless it’s not something you’re comfortable with, in which case, that’s fine, we could figure out something else. I… might have a heated blanket?” He casts back in his mind, trying to figure out if he does, in fact, possess a heated blanket, or if he just used to have one and is remembering incorrectly. If he doesn’t still have it, he’s not sure that he owns anything else that would help; snakes like heat lamps, he thinks, but he definitely doesn’t have one of those. Could he turn on the oven and set Janus in front of it? Would that work?

He is jolted out of his thoughts by the sensation of Janus’ head rubbing into his hand, like a cat seeking attention. He freezes, and so does Janus, and for a long moment, they have another one of those staring contests. Then, Janus sets his head primly on the back of his hand, still staring, as if asking for permission. Something bright and warm blooms in Thomas’ chest, and with his free hand, he gestures to his arm, trying to suppress the grin that wants to spread across his face.

Janus hesitates for a second longer. Then, he slithers up and around Thomas’ arm, and Thomas shivers at the sensation of frigid scales sliding across his skin. At first, it seems as though this won’t work, that Janus is simply too big to settle comfortably, but Thomas watches in fascination as Janus begins to shrink, landing on a much smaller size, perhaps two feet long, a length that can wrap around his arm with ease. Somehow, throughout the process, the tiny bowler hat remains perfectly balanced.

And just like that, there is a snake looped around Thomas’ arm.

“Alright,” he says, trying not to sound as giddy as he feels, because this is the closest he feels like he’s gotten to making a personal connection to Janus in months. “Okay, cool. Um, I was planning on getting some more editing done, so you can just hang out while I do that, I guess. Feel free to hiss at me or something if you get uncomfortable.”

Janus remains silent, which he will take as a good sign. In fact, he remains silent for the better part of an hour, lazily regarding the computer screen as Thomas attempts to wrangle his filmed material into something worth posting. He ends up doing most of the work with one arm so as to disturb Janus as little as possible, but he finds that he doesn’t mind. After a time, he almost forgets that Janus is there at all, becomes accustomed to the chilly weight of his scales on his arm, the slight movements as he shifts in place every now and again.

But then, those slight movements become bigger movements, and Thomas stills, tensing as Janus uncoils and begins to slither his way up his arm and under his shirtsleeve. His breath catches, and chills shoot down his spine; Janus is warmer than before, but still cool, and the sensation as Janus moves across his shoulder and emerges from his shirt’s collar is odd, unfamiliar. He exhales shakily as Janus continues to move, looping himself around his neck several times, just tight enough that Thomas is very aware of his presence, of the fact that there is a snake coiled around his neck, and as much as he knows that Janus will not physically harm him (and probably couldn’t, even if he tried), there is an element in his hindbrain that is gibbering at him, insisting that everything about this situation is a very bad idea, and that he needs to remove the threat.

God, he hopes Virgil isn’t paying attention to this. Except, judging from the way he’s feeling right now, judging from the almost audible oh god oh god get him off get him off, he definitely is, and Thomas is very surprised that he’s held back from showing up in person.

And then, Janus lets out a whistling breath and tucks his head between the coils and Thomas’ neck, and all the tension leaks from Thomas’ body as his rational thinking catches up to the situation. The way Janus is gripping him is nowhere near tight enough to cut off his airflow, and it never was, even though he seems to be pressing up as close to his skin as possible. But why--?

Was his arm not warm enough?

“You good there, Janus?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He receives no response, neither a hiss nor any additional motion, so he tries again. “Are you, uh, asleep?”

Again, no reply, so it’s probably safe to assume. He smiles, wide and unrestrained, and powers down his laptop. The storm outside has calmed to a softer rainfall, pattering against the windows, and other than that, the world seems quiet and still. It’s earlier than Thomas usually goes to bed, but he actually feels like he might manage to fall asleep if he tries, and a little bit of extra rest never hurt anyone. He’s been working in bed already, thankfully, so while he can’t lie all the way down without dislodging Janus in some way, Logan won’t lecture him too much if he falls asleep where he sits.

He reaches over to the lamp at his bedside and turns off the light.

“Goodnight, Janus,” he murmurs. Predictably, he receives no response, but Janus’ scales still press against him in the dark, a comforting presence as he drifts off.

------

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @ldavmp4 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @sammy-is-obsessed @imlovethomassanders

As a note, I am willing to have a separate taglist for this fic if you just want to be tagged for the other two chapters. So if you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask! But please do specify which taglist you would like to be added to.

#sanders sides #ts sides #platonic thomceit #character!thomas #janus sanders #ts janus #my fic #i'm not gonna lie this whole fic is an excuse to get c!thomas to hug janus

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

Text

Physical Fatality Part 10- Salve

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for brief mention of background character death and description of unprotected sex

Masterlist

“The first person I ever loved was named Kiyomi.”

It’s certainly not how you expected Hawks to start this conversation but it had taken nearly half an hour of him pacing for him to sit down next to you on the bed and spit out even that much so you decide to just let him talk.

“I was 18, fresh onto the hero scene and still in that post-debut hustle trying to prove myself. She was a college student. She told me that we’d make it till she graduates. I told her heroism would be worth the wait but she wanted me in an office with a 9-5. We didn’t last. The next girl I fell in love with was Yua. I thought it’d be better because she was a hero too so she’d understand, but before I could ask her out she died in a villain attack. Then there was this one girl with an attitude I met on a mission up north. We never told anyone we were together and in the end we both had way better things to do so we didn’t last long, but I always think about her when I’m in the area.”

“Hawks why are you telling me all this?” you finally ask, starting to get impatient for him to reach the point. You didn’t relish in hearing about his past lovers even if you figured he was telling you for a reason.

“I’m getting to the point I promise. The last one before you was Mirko. I loved her but I lost her because as great as things were going she wanted more time from me and I loved work more than I did her. But when I met you? Fuck (y/n) it was like every single person before you was suddenly meaningless. That night at the gala I was looking for Mirko but the moment I laid eyes on you I forgot all about her. You are genuinely the first person I’ve ever loved more than anything else and I’m sorry I hurt you baby, I am. It’s not that I don’t love you, I’m just bad at love,” he finally finishes.

“If you’re so bad at love then why are you here right now?” You ask. “Can you blame me for trying to be better? Look I could lie and say you’re the one that will finally fix me but the truth is I don’t know, ok? I just know that I want you to be. I want so badly for you to be. Can’t that be enough?” he asks, no pleads, of you and it breaks your heart. “It’s not my job to fix you Hawks. Especially when I’ve got my hands full keeping my career from going to shit,” you reply. “You’re right. Fuck, sorry, you’re right that’s not what I meant. I just...,” he sighs running frustrated fingers through his hair before turning back to you again with a desperate but determined look in his eyes. “For the first time I don’t want to be resigned to being bad at this. I’m asking for patience and a second chance,” he clarifies. “I’m scared,” you finally admit and immediately Hawks is kneeling in front of you, his hands gently cradling either side of your face as he forces you to make eye contact with him. “I know that you’re afraid I’m gonna walk away again but I won’t. I swear to you I won’t,” he promises and his eyes are so full of conviction that your resolve finally crumbles. There’s no denying how genuine he is in this moment and you are so, so tired of hurting him. So you let go of the anger and the hurt you’ve been clinging to for dear life since the moment you read that damned article. “I believe you Keigo,” you confess and it’s one less weight on your shoulders.

You’re shocked at the desperation with which Keigo surges up to press his mouth to yours, his once gentle grip tightening possessively. He pulls away just a bit, his forehead still pressed to yours. You’re both out of breath and panting already and you’re about to close the distance between the two of you again but Keigo pulls away. You whine your disagreement as your hands go to his shirt to try and pull him back into you but he insists. “Say it again,” he commands, his voice shaking. “What?” you ask dazed. “I need to hear you say it again. Please.” “I believe you Keigo.” “Again.” “I believe you Keigo.” “I love you. I’m so sorry.” “I love you too.”

Finally his hands move to your waist, slipping underneath your shirt to find bare skin, and it’s like cool salve on a burn. You hadn’t even realized how deeply you’d ached for him all this time until he was laying you down against the bed. His body baring down on you as he presses you into the mattress. Your lips connect again and all you can think is that you need more of him. You open your mouth in an invitation he gladly accepts to slide his tongue in and tangle it with yours. The kiss lacks finesse, it’s probably the sloppiest the two of you have exchanged, but now is not the time for gentle, tantalizing skill. Not when the two of you have been denying each other all this time. The two of you separate only for brief intervals in order to shed clothing and underwear until there’s nothing left keeping you apart. Finally, finally it’s just skin on skin, your hearts pounding in your chests as if trying to escape and finally be together. “Need you,” you murmur against his lips and he immediately nods, his yearning for you just as overwhelming as yours for him. He presses his throbbing erection into your tight, wet heat so slowly and carefully as if you might break. Or perhaps more accurately as if you might disappear. You realize that every kiss, every touch, every movement he’s made has carried an element of disbelief, as if he cannot fathom that he’s finally with you like this again. By the time he’s fully seated inside you Keigo is absolutely trembling. The two of you stay like that for awhile, just breathing each other in, appreciating the intimacy of being so connected. One of your hands caresses Keigo’s cheek. “Baby why are you shaking?” you ask, even though you’re afraid of the answer. “I just thought I’d never have this again,” he confesses. “I’m so sorry Kei,” you whisper but he shakes his head. “I deserved it.” “No you didn’t. Not all of it.” “I’m the reason everything’s fucked now.” “Faced with Endeavor and the evidence you had, I probably would’ve done the same thing if I were in your position. And the paparazzi stuff I played a part in too.” “But I hurt you.” “And then I hurt you right back.”

It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you let the words hang in the air. You expected the admission to feel heavy but you actually feel the lightest you have in weeks. “We really are a mess aren’t we?” you finally chuckle with a slight shake of your head. “I’d rather be a mess with you than perfect with anyone else,” he swears. “That’s a bit corny isn’t it?” you tease. “Oh absolutely. But I mean every word of it,” he replies easily before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. It doesn’t take long for it to become heated again. “I’m gonna need you to start moving baby,” you whisper into his ear as one of your hands drifts to the base of his wings to spur him on. “Shit Love, well I guess if you need me that bad,” he smirks but a quick tug on his feathers has him hissing instead. He gives a quick roll of his hips in retaliation before starting to move in and out of you in earnest. God how you’ve missed this, missed him. For the first time since everything went to shit you’re not worrying about your career or All Might or the press or anything else. With each languid thrust, each muttered curse, each lust-filled moan, Keigo cleanses you of the worries and anxieties that have haunted your every waking moment. In him you find relief and bliss and ecstasy, such sweet ecstasy. When the two of you reach your climaxes your moans sound more like sobs as you cling tightly onto each other, scared to let go and risk discovering this was all a dream.

When you both come down from your highs Keigo doesn’t let go, just cuddles you close to him and let’s his feathers tuck you both into your bed. “Do you have any other plans for tonight?” he asks. You shake your head no as you bury yourself closer against him. “Good,” he responds before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Hours pass the two of you by as you simply hold onto each other, barely speaking, just reveling in each other’s company. You don’t even notice yourself drifting off to sleep, it’s just one moment you’re listening to the quiet sounds of Keigo’s breathing and the next you’re slipping into the first restful sleep you’ve had in a long time.

You wake up to the sound of Keigo’s alarm. He shuts it off quickly but makes no move to extricate himself from your hold or otherwise get out of bed. “You gonna get up and go to work?” you ask. “Don’t really want to,” he sighs, “I’d rather stay in here with just us.” “We can’t stay in here forever,” you point out. “You sure about that? It sounds infinitely more appealing than dealing with Monoma this early in the morning,” he groans. “Believe me I wish we could too, but you have terrorists to catch and I’ve got people to save so,” you gently remind him. “Five more minutes?” “Fine, five more minutes.”

Five minutes passes by all too quickly and soon the two of you are forcing yourselves out of bed. It’s oddly reminiscent of that first night together. Both of you getting redressed without nearly the urgency you should. Both of you ignoring the dread building at the thought of stepping out of the little bubble you had created. Once you’re both dressed and ready you link hands again and step out of your room. Almost immediately you feel the weight of your responsibilities land heavily on your shoulders once again. The two of you move through the apartment to your front door and it feels like that crossroads moment in the hallway when both of you had run opposite directions without so much as getting a name. You hope he’ll understand why you’re going to once again choose to part ways. “You go on ahead Love, I think I’m going to wait to head to the office until closer to my shift,” you tell Hawks as you hesitate in the doorway. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’m sure. You go ahead though, tell the others I say hi,” you insist. He gives you a worried look but agrees, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving. “Looks like you two are doing better,” a voice comments behind you. You turn around to find your new roommate standing watching you as he eats cereal out of a bowl nonchalantly. “I’m gonna be honest I have already forgotten your name again,” you confess. “Denki.” “Right, Denki. Thanks I guess.” “You’re welcome. Why didn’t you go with him to work?” “All of my coworkers except for the ones who will be busy working with him think I’m a traitorous slut.” “Yikes.” “Yea.” “Anyway I can help?” “You could make me breakfast to make up for picking the lock on my door.” “Fair enough.”

Author’s Note: This was difficult to write tbh because the content from the song it’s based on tapped out pretty quickly and I needed to figure out narratively where else it needed to go, especially considering what’s coming down the pipeline. I hope the result was satisfying and you guys enjoy it though

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 2 ~It’s Her Cue~

Previously in Sparks Will Fly ...

A slap on his back tore his gaze away from Claire. "Easy now lad," Willie said in a low, amused voice. "Ye look like ye could use the same drink as her."

Jamie glanced back at the subject of their conversation. "Aye, but make mine a double," he whispered.

"On it," Willie replied, laughing as he walked off.

What the bloody hell? He should be withdrawing himself away from this attraction because this mad instant bond between them was like an overloaded electrical fuse, capable of incinerating him alive. He'd already learnt his lesson from his last relationship. He'd been there and done that, but yet he didn't have the will to stop himself from finding out how their connection would play out.

Oh, Christ, this is bad. So, so bad, I'm in so much big trouble. Taking a huge sigh, he found himself a stool nearest to the pool table and watched Claire steal the show from the best snooker player in Broch Mordha.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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"Just polishing my balls for the lovely lass, here."

The people around her howled with good-natured laughter.

Claire kept her head down as she sat on the edge of the stool, chalking her stick, waiting for Hugh to stop showing off and blathering with his mates, and to finally break. She felt eyes on her, and when she looked up, she met Jamie's gaze where he sat with his brother at the high table.

Annalise leaned in from behind her and whispered, "Ginger can't stop looking at you."

Claire drew in substantial deep breaths. She'd watched Jamie play shinty earlier, and she thought he looked impressive then. Tall, strong, lithe, covered in mud and the epitome of a Highland warrior. Not that she had any idea what a Highland warrior would have looked like. After all, she only had the movie, Braveheart to go by. But who would have thought he'd show any interest in her. Perhaps, because she'd probably looked like she was about to climb him. Who could blame her, though? The moment he'd looked into her eyes, he stirred something inside her, which no man had ever done before him. And by some feat of willpower, she wondered how she'd succeeded not breaking into song right then and there. Up close earlier and now, sat only a few feet away, Jamie looked even better. Wavy auburn hair touched the collar of his plaid flannel shirt and the way his jeans hung low on hips, it shouldn't be even allowed.

"He probably thinks I'm easy. You know how some rural folks think city people like us have loose morals."

Annalise gasped. "Why do you think he would think that?"

"I think I came on too strong and flirty," she confided in a low voice. "He's a man, so of course, he'd respond, and it probably works a treat for him too since I'm only here for a holiday. But my God, he's one fine specimen of a man, isn't he? I'm even getting butterflies, and the last time I had them ...goodness, I can't even remember."

"Don't be daft ...you don't even know what he's thinking. Besides, you're single, and you're allowed to show interest if you fancy someone." The ice in Annalise's vodka and tonic clinked behind her. "This is the twenty-first century, and you're welcome to it. Flirt away and get butterflies. Let yourself go a little. I don't know if it applies here, but I'll say it anyway ...what goes on in the Highlands, stay in the Highlands."

Aww, bless her.

Claire was grateful for her friend's presence in her life. If Annalise hadn't been there to constantly coax her out of her self-consciousness and to confide in to, she'd probably still be living a secluded life, and London would have eventually eaten her whole. Now here she was, openly flirting with a handsome stranger and she'd agreed to let him take her out.

Claire smiled. "How about you? What's happening with you and Willie?"

Annalise made an exaggerated sighing sound behind her, making her laugh. What a tart!

"Hey, by the way, Jamie asked me out. So I guess, after this game and a round of drink, we're going to split. He wants to take me on a Christmas night tour. Will you be alright with Willie?" Claire asked. She had to make sure as this was their holiday together and she didn't want Annalise feeling abandoned.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. The boys seem like decent blokes, but as a precaution, I took photos of their driving licences and sent them to Geillis. She'll have them thoroughly checked out. Really handy to know someone whose boyfriend works with the police."

Claire's eyes widened, and she turned around to face her friend. "You didn't! I told Jamie I trust him." Geillis Duncan was their mutual friend they'd met in London at a party. After hitting it off, they'd forged a tight friendship, and the three of them became close until Geillis had to move back to her home city of Glasgow when she met the love of her life. Claire and Annalise were going to visit her before flying back to London.

"Of course, I did, silly. We're both on our own. Just because we're on our holidays and having fun doesn't mean we have to be lax when it comes to precaution. Don't worry, it'll be fine." Annalise reassuringly squeezed her arm. "Speaking of protection ...do you have condoms?"

What!?! Sex was the furthest thing from her mind. But she didn't have time to reply as she saw at the corner of her eye, Hugh finally, leaned across the pool table and broke. As Claire stood up to take her turn, their audience cheered and whooped.

Ignoring the hoots and whistles, she watched in concentration as the colourful balls rolled, not one of them dropping into a pocket. She began to walk around the pool table, taking in each position of the balls as she tapped her chin. Alrighty Beauchamp, let's have a look, shall we? This should be easy-peasy, lemon squeezy. We'll go for stripes.

"Ye ken how to play, hen?" Hugh teased, extracting laughter from his friends. "If not, I promise to go easy with my shaft." Another round of loud laughter ensued.

Claire ignored the innuendo, and the sally going on and focused.

First, I'll down that nine-ball hanging over the pocket and use the rail to tap out the eleven, crammed against the twelve. That'll leave open the six, thirteen, and fifteen. Once I drop the fifteen, using a little side spin, that should bring me to the other end of the table. Then I'll sink the eleven and the fourteen into the same corner pocket, gently hitting the ten off the rail in the process, so I don't get stuck later having to bank shot it. Knock in the eight, then I'm clear to finish it off. Good God, Beauchamp, you're so good.

Satisfied with her strategy, Claire leaned over the green felt and positioned herself. Although Hugh's loud wisecrack didn't rattle her, the intensity of Jamie's stare was another matter. Taking a deep breath, she redirected her concentration on her game plan and took her first shot and then another, working clinically and accurately. Unfortunately, their encounter earlier kept creeping back into her consciousness and playing in loops in her head. It didn't help that his scent stuck on to her when he'd caught her after the fall. He smelled of forest and fresh laundry. None of that heavy musky expensive perfumes London yuppies liked to bathe in. It made her want to lean in, bury her face in the crook of his neck and take a deep breath.

Bent at the waist, Claire stretched over the edge of the table and focused on the fifteen-ball and tried not to wince at the memory of openly flirting with Jamie. In her defence, it wasn't every day she was rescued by a very manly bloke who stared at her like he didn't want to let her out of his sight. She wondered if she'd appeared too eager and was totally misunderstanding the look he was giving her. There had been a hint of wariness lurking behind those beautiful translucent blue eyes when she'd agreed to go out with him. Had she said something to cause him to throw up his guard?

Having gone to a Catholic, all-girls, boarding school, her experience with the opposite sex was limited to the ones she read in romance novels. Orphaned at a young age, her guardian uncle Lamb didn't believe, dragging her across the globe with him was an ideal way to raise a girl, especially when he worked mostly with men in archaeological sites. So he'd decided the best place for her upbringing was with the nuns, right through college.

So when it finally came for her to start adulting and dating in a big, bad city like London, she'd been like a deer caught in the headlights. But she quickly found her feet with the help of her friend and flatmate, Annalise, a Parisienne by birth and a Londoner at heart. The French girl had been a mentor to her, initiating her to the trappings of singlehood and city life. Though the dating and getting-to-know-a-guy part was also an exciting discovery, she quickly realised every date she'd been to, after having gone through a handful of them, was a recycled version of the last. Same lines, same latest fashion, exaggerated backstories and trying too hard to impress instead of being themselves. So at the ripe age of twenty-five, she still had to experience what it was like to have a boyfriend. Annalise accused her of being too picky, but Claire always reasoned she just hadn't met the right one. She'd envisioned her first boyfriend to be someone endearingly awkward, not too loud and maybe a little shy. But Jamie was the least awkward man she'd ever met. He was easy on the eyes, and he lived inside his skin like a well-worn pair of jeans. He was far from a starter boyfriend she'd envision - definitely, not a boy anything.

"Go, Claire! You can do it!" Annalise shouted at the sidelines.

As she marked her shot on the eight-ball, she glanced up at Jamie and felt her focus wobble a bit. When one of the lads emitted a low whistle as she moved her hips to settle herself at a conducive angle, he didn't have a smidgen of amusement on his face. More than anything, he looked liked he was about to knock the front teeth off of the offender.

She didn't want a pub brawl to start in her honour, even if it sounded romantic in movies or books.

Straightening up from her position, she gave Jamie what she thought was a sexy smile. "Hey, Jamie," she called to him. "You got that single malt ready for me? This shouldn't take long." She tried not to blanch for sounding overconfident and cocky. It seemed cheeky for presuming she'd finished this game in a jiffy, but the pleasure of seeing his piercing blue eyes creased at the corners was definitely worth the minor discomfort her behaviour had caused her. Oh, Lordy! There were hushed oohs, followed by a round of testosterone-laced jests, making Jamie shake his head in amusement. At least, to her relief, he stopped looking like he's about to wallop anyone. Trouble averted in the knick of time!

As Jamie turned to get the attention of the bartender, she quickly lowered herself back over the table in the same position and sunk in the remaining balls. When she finished, her opponent, Hugh looked, well …not the least bit pleased about it. It probably didn't help she'd earlier acted cocksure about winning the game and might have dented his macho ego in front of his mates.

Claire watched Hugh purposely marched towards her as their audience clapped, cheered and teased him for losing to a lassie.

"Ye got me at a disadvantage. I must admit I went easy on you since ye're new around here," he said loud enough for everyone near the pool table to hear.

Claire gave him a charming smile, even though she felt like throttling him for not being man enough to congratulate her. "I know. Too bad, you assumed I couldn't play because I have a pair of boobs."

Hugh's eyes dropped down to her breast, and his cheek twitched, as he openly leered at her. "I must admit, ye have a lovely pair, and it might have distracted me from playing a good game, now that I come to think about it. Ye ken what ye need? Ye need a good ..."

"Stiff drink?" Jamie interrupted as he handed Claire a glass of single malt. "That's what ye were about to say, aye?"

Jamie's words were mildly pleasant, but she detected the underlying warning in his tone. Hugh didn't look like one to back-off, but when Jamie took a small step forward, he eyed the height and breadth before him and thought better of it. Splitting a forced smile between her and Jamie, Hugh raised both his hands as a sign of truce and slowly walked back to his mates.

With a sigh, she placed her cue stick on the pool table and faced Jamie. "This is fast becoming a habit of yours, isn't it?"

"What?" he asked, taking a step inside her personal space. It was another one of his moves to add to that growing habit list of his. Her old fashion side, the side influenced by her upbringing in the boarding school, wanted her to take a step back. But the side, that suspiciously sounded like Annalise, was shouting at her to hold her ground.

So she held her ground and arched an eyebrow at him. "You coming to my rescue. Again!"

When his mouth expanded into a smile, she couldn't help noticing his full, beautiful lips. With a cleanly shaven angular jaw, they made him looked like an angel who'd spent time in hell. Her breath caught in her throat, and she quickly looked back up, hoping he hadn't noticed her wandering eyes.

His amused expression told her he had. "Ye could say, rescuing ye is one past time that's beginning to grow on me."

She laughed out loud. It was something she did whenever she was nervous or when shyness overtook, and the most annoying part of it, it was almost always accompanied by a snort. She quickly sobered up. Acting like a loon was definitely beginning to be her nervous signature move.

As if sensing her unease, Jamie quickly changed the subject. "By the way, that was some show ye put on. Ye'll be the topic of everyone's conversation for the next few days. And Hugh the butt of jokes."

"I didn't realise I was playing with a sore loser," she said, taking a sip of her whisky. When the heat slid down her throat, she tried not to flinch. Acting cool wasn't her forte, but she was determined to work on it. "If I'd known, I would have given up my slot."

"Dinnae fash. Hugh's all mouth and no trousers, but he's harmless. So where did ye learn to play like that?" His eyes scanned her face, and he cocked his head a little like he was committing each of her features to memory.

"My uncle taught me. We'd play for hours whenever we get time to spend together."

"Ye're close to yer uncle. That's nice. I hope I'd be that type of uncle one day."

She beamed. Jamie looked like the type of uncle who would have boundless of energy playing with children. "My uncle's for the most part, both a father and mother to me when I wasn't in the boarding school. My parents died when I was young."

His face turned serious. "Sorry to hear that. My parents have always been part of my life, so I can't begin to imagine what it was like for you growing up without them."

Claire gave him a grateful smile as she pulled a vibrating phone from her pocket. "Oh, bummer," she whispered, glancing down at the screen. "I have about fifteen missed text messages. I didn't feel it going off. I must have been caught up with all the excitement of the game."

He ran a hand along his jaw. "Some lad missing ye back home?"

She hesitated, glancing up at him. "No." She shook her head, vigorously. "It's my friend, Geillis." She skimmed through the messages wondering why there were so many of them. Annalise had sent the photos of the brothers' driving licences to Geillis, and probably something had come up.

"Is everything alright?" he asked as she continued to read the messages.

"It's fine," she squeaked, looking for any incriminating data Geillis might have found. She found none. Instead, what she was reading was making her face heat up.

"Are ye sure? Ye have a troubling frown forming on yer face. Maybe I can help."

She sighed and rolled her head. "Annalise sent the photos of your driving licences to my friend Geillis. And a selfie she took with you and your brother earlier. You know ...to have you check out and see if you're legit. Geillis' boyfriend works with the police you see."

He arched an eyebrow. "And?"

Is he upset? "Don't look at me like that. I told you I trust you."

He laughed. "Like what? Ye're the one who's giving me an odd look. I told ye I was alright with it. So what did she say? Do I get her seal of approval?"

She winced. "Yeah, Geillis says it's all good."

He picked up his whisky from the nearby table. "Geillis sounds like a verra nice friend. I think I like her already. What else did she say?"

She felt the colour drain from her face. "I swear you wouldn't want to hear the rest of it. Geillis is raving mad."

"Try me."

"I think we should leave it ..."

"Come on, Sassenach. It cannae be that bad."

"I'd rather not."

"Go on, humour me." His blue eyes danced, and she marvelled for the umpteenth time at how handsome he was.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you." She shut her eyes for a few heartbeats and puffed out a breath. "Well, she said if you're the same bloke who competed against her boyfriend at caber toss last spring and won ..." Oh dear, God. "...I ...um ...I should let you ground my corn."

He practically choked on his whisky.

She grimaced and wondered if she should thump him on the back. "I'm sorry. Geillis has an odd sense of humour. I'm afraid it's just her way of saying that her boyfriend thinks you're ace ...well, that's if you're really the bloke who he thinks you are."

He recovered quickly and grinned. "How about ye? What do ye think of me?"

She ignored the question. "You haven't confirmed anything to me yet," she said, speaking into her whisky glass. "Did you really win the caber toss competition?"

He looked smugly amused, and the smile that spread across his face already answered her question.

"So you're a tree surgeon who plays shinty and tosses poles in your spare time ...whatever next."

He nodded at her phone when it lit up again. "What else is your friend saying?"

She put her drink down and glanced at the screen. "'She said, the men who participated in this year's caber toss, including you, posed with nothing on but their kilt for a charity calendar."

He smiled. "Aye, that's right."

"And she asked me to ask you if you're wearing anything underneath the kilt because I'm getting the calendar as a stocking filler."

His booming laughter made a few heads turn their way.

"See I told you, she's raving mad." She took another sip from her glass and realised it was empty. Ah, fiddlesticks! "I thought her boyfriend would have mellowed her down a bit, but I have a feeling, she's worse than ever."

He eyed her glass and grinned. "I definitely have to meet this friend of yours."

She felt a twinge of ache in her heart, which took her by surprise. "Annalise and I are stopping at her place in Glasgow before we fly back to London on Three Kings. So you won't be seeing her."

He leaned in closer. "I ken we've only just met. Ye think ye're going to miss me when you go back?" His eyes twinkled mischievously.

Even though she was a right bumbling mess around him, she had to admit she was having too much fun in his company. So much so, she didn't really want to think about leaving yet. Her mind was already racing and wondering if Annalise would agree to celebrate Hogmanay here instead of in Edinburgh. "Well, that depends ..."

"Depends on what?"

Her curiosity to explore the dynamic between them made it difficult to keep her guard up. It was useless trying to fight whatever this was when she was so drawn to Jamie. Surely he must be feeling this too. She swallowed hard and decided to be brave. "If I'll have a reason to miss you," she blurted out before she could change her mind.

A tiny fraction of the playfulness displayed on his face was replaced by uncertainty ...and Claire's stomach coiled at the proof he wasn't prepared to act on the attraction between them. Whatever his reason was, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know as her guard began to scramble back into place. Oh, God, how could I be so dim? Maybe he's got a girlfriend or a wife ...

"Arbroath Smokies."

Stunned, she looked at him. "Wot?"

"Have ye eaten?"

"Uh, um ...not since midday."

"Weel, hard to fall in love with ..." He took a huge deep breath. "...Broch Mordha on an empty stomach."

"Huh?"

That playful smile was back on his face. "Have ye tried Arbroath Smokies?"

"No. I don't even know what that is."

"Ye have to try it. I know just the place." Jamie glanced over his shoulder. "Come on, let's have a quick drink with Willie and Annalise so we can get out of here."

And then just like that, he wove his fingers through hers and tugged her towards the bar.

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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sleepychai-fics · 5 years ago

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Overhaul x Male!Reader N*FW- Dirty Thoughts for a Clean Man

Request: @weird-fandom-loser ; Ayy man. back again. could you maybe do an nsfw one shot (or headcanons) for a bottom overhaul with male s/o? 👉👈😗

Late again with posting but wheres the surprise in that? I would love to get back into the swing of nsfw one shots. Thank you for giving me this request! Im not exactly confident with how it turned out so feedback is GREATLY appreciated

Pronouns: Male

Words: 1975

Buy me a Ko-fi? ←(link in bio)

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Kai’s golden eyes glaze over the sight of you as steam rolls out of the bathroom and lingers around you.

A hand ruffles through your still damp hair, a few strands falling over your face. Your other hand holds the towel that hands around your waist, keeping the lower half of your body hidden whilst the top half is shown off bare.

Kai can’t help but stare at you. The way the muscles move beneath the skin of your arm as you mess with your hair, the gradient shadows that decorate your skin, the way the droplets of water run down your body, sinking past the towel that hangs at your hips.

The towel is a tease, Kai thinks. It hides the most valuable part of you.

He knows that valuable piece of you like the back of his hand. Well, more accurately the palm of his hand. He knows the texture of it, knows how it tastes, how it feels when it’s buried deep inside him.

He feels completely drunk from the sight of you, not that he would ever admit that aloud to someone.

He wants to feel you all over him. Wants your freshly cleansed hands roaming across his chest, teasing his nipples before sinking below his waist to take hold of him. Want to feel the pleasure that ignites within him as you pump him.

“You know,” Golden eyes snap up to meet your own pair of sparkly (e/c). “For a clean man such as yourself, you are quick to think dirty.”

For a second, Kai stands there confused. It isn’t until he feels the tightness building underneath his pants does he understand your comment.

Feigning annoyance, Kai scoffs. “I have no idea what nonsense you’re going on about.” With that, he turns away and takes the few strides to the bed.

Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, Kai begins to unlatch his mask, setting it gently on the bedside table. Just as he slides his jacket off his shoulders, you step in front of him.

He gasps as your arms come to cage him against the bed, your face mere inches from him. Instinctively, Kai leans back, afraid to be too close to you.

“Come on Kai, you and I both know you’re aching for me to ram you into this mattress.” Your voice is low and vibrates the back of your throat.

What you said was in fact true but there was no way Kai would admit it out loud. It was then that he made the mistake of looking further down your hovering body, only to discover that the towel around your waist had disappeared, revealing your hardening cock. He has to bite his lip to stop the moan that wants to escape past his lips.

He leans away from your as you lean in for a kiss. “Y-You’re filthy.” Oh how badly he wants to slap the stutter out of him.

You merely chuckle at his excuse, lips nibbling at his ear. “I just had a shower, there’s no need to worry about that.”

He can’t deny that, he can smell the custom made shampoo from you.

“You’re going to get me filthy.” For some reason, his own words turn him on more, causing even more strain against his pants.

Hooded eyes glaze with lust as you smirk at him. “Then I guess I’ll have to clean you up afterwards.”

And just like that, the ruthless, violent, and merciless leader of the feared Shie Hassaikai falls into submission.

With a growl of defeat, Kai leans up to complete the kiss. You smile into the kiss as you slowly push him to lay on the bed. He gasps as his back hits the bed. However, the need to be clean is easily overwhelmed by the need for you to be in him.

He welcomes your tongue inside his mouth, letting you explore all the crevices behind his teeth. The kiss only lasts a few more seconds before you pull back.

In utter frustration, Kai snarls. “What are you doing?”

You laugh at his annoyance. “Stripping you down of course.” Fingers glide down his dress shirt, buttons coming undone as they make their way down. Your lips ghost by his ear. “I’m sure you’d like to be fucked butt naked.”

Eagerness washes over Kai, pushing him to sit up, shoving the shirt off. He then hurries to undo his zip but your hands stop him from pulling them down making him choke out a groan.

“Little impatient are we?” You chuckle as you help him remove his pants, freeing his hard cock from it’s tight confines.

Kai throws his head back, mouth wide open in a silent moan as you begin to palm him through his boxers. He lifts a hand up to his chest and begins to pinch and roll his nipple between his fingers.

You groan as you watch him intently. “That’s it handsome, touch yourself for me.”

“You’re taking too long to-” Kai begins to retaliate but a squeeze to his cock stops him and rips a loud moan from him.

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t quite understand you.” You sneer as you lean down to engulf Kai’s other nipple in his mouth.

You press the flat of your tongue against his nipple, teeth barely touching skin. All while you drag his pants and boxers down with one hand and pump his cock with the other.

Kai is in bliss. It’s overwhelming but he loves it.

After a few minutes, you lift off of him, standing above him, eyes hazy over the sight of Kai breathless and sweaty.

It only takes a few seconds for him to be annoyed at the loss of contact. “Why did you stop?”

You shrug. “Just admiring the view.” You smirk at the faint blush that paints his cheeks. Turning to the bedside table, you open the drawer. “Besides, I think it’s time we get you prepped.” You pull out the bottle of lube, lifting it up for him to see.

Kai grunts at the spark of pleasure that shoots through to his dick. “I don’t need to be prepped. I can take you raw.”

Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “No you can’t.” You open the cap and coat a generous amount onto your fingers. “Don’t worry, I’ll prep you nice and good. Stretch you out for my cock.”

Kai fucking whines. He doesn’t mean to but it’s out before he can stop it.

You chuckle, leaning over him with your lubed up fingers tracing the rim of his asshole. “I’ll take that as a ‘Please do it’.”

As you press in one finger, Kai moans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.

“Look at that. Your ass is sucking up my finger. You’re so needy aren’t you?” You say as you pump your finger in and out, curling it to scrape against his walls.

“Then why don’t you add another finger if I’m that needy.” Kai grunts.

“So bossy. You’re lucky I want to bury my dick inside you so much.” You reply, slipping in a second finger.

You continue your treatment, setting a comfortable rhythm. Soon enough you begin to scissor him, stretching out his hole. Kai bucks into your fingers, desperate for more of you.

By the time you add the third finger, he is painfully hard, beads of pre-cum dripping down his vein-popped cock.

“Look at you. Such a mess.” You say as you peer over his spread out body. He wriggles underneath your stare. “I think you’re ready for me now.” You pull your fingers out, leaving his ass clenching around nothing.

Kai wraps his arms around your neck, pulling you down to his level, and presses an open mouthed kiss to your lips. He licks along your lips, diving between them as you open with a smirk.

Kai pulls away after a few lingering seconds. “Just fuck me already.”

“What if I want to stop? Leave you here without fucking you. Leave you squirming in the bitter cold.”

His eyes widen with fear. “Please don’t.”

You burst into laughter at his expression and quick reply. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today.”

Without another breath wasted, you line yourself up with him and thrust into him, burying yourself to the hilt in his ass.

Kai chokes out a loud moan, back arching into you as he clenches around your cock. You dive down to kiss his exposed neck, hips taking off with a steady pace.

Hands come to grip on your biceps, nails digging into your muscles. Kai clenches his jaw, moans coming out as seething breaths.

“You love it when I fuck you hard, don’t you?” You whisper to him, increasing his pace.

Kai can’t think of anything to say back. He can’t think to begin with. The only sounds that come from him are the breathless groans and the occasional open mouthed moans as you hit the sweet spot inside him.

“Look at how dirty you are.”

Kai can feel how dirty he is. He feels sticky with his precum drooling to his stomach. His cock is wet and sticky and he can feel bits of it drying up. Despite all these gross sensations, he loves the feeling of you. The way you continuously pound into him with such ruthless force it feels likes he’s being torn apart. The sensations clash against each other and makes him feel conflicted.

“Why don’t you take a firm hold of your cock baby? Pump it for me.”

For a hot minute, Kai forgot about his cock. He was so busy with the feeling of you that he forgot himself. He barely hesitated to reach down between the two of you and grab his cock tightly. He grimaced at the sticky feeling of his cum before he fought through it and began stroking his cock in time with your thrusts.

“That’s it Kai. Just like that.” You praise him whilst increasing your already ferocious pace.

Kai groans at the building pleasure, his hand increasing its grip on his dick, sending more electrifying pleasure to his brain. Desperate to go over the edge, he begins to move his in time with your thrusts.

An animalistic growl leaves you as you lean down, teeth latching onto his clavicle.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping and breathless moans as you continue to piston your hips into Kai, driving the both of you closer to orgasm.

Kai is the first to cum, hips lifting off the bed, the grip on his cock loosening as thick ropes of cums shoots out, splattering all over your stomach and dribbling onto his own. His muscles twitch in the aftermath, body relaxing as you desperately chase your own end.

You groan into his neck as your hips still, filling him up with your cum. Your hips spasm for seconds after your release before you slowly slip yourself out of him, falling to lay beside Kai.

For a minute, neither of you move, besides your chests as they rise and fall with each breath.

Kai turns to you, hair slick with sweat and sticking to his forehead. He grimaces. “You’re filthy.” He eyes the drying cum on your stomach.

A stream of laughter bubbles out of you. “This is your cum.”

Kai snarls in response. With a deep breath, he sits up. “We need to clean up.”

“Are you sure you can stand?”

Kai glares at you with a vicious glare. He ignores you and stands up from the bed. Regret immediately washes over him as his knees shake beneath him.

You leap up beside him, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Fucked ya’ real good didn’t I?”

Kai groans but leans against you.

“Come on big boy, I’ll help wash you up.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

feedback?

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #overhaul #overhaul x reader #overhaul x male reader #kai chisaki #kai chisaki x reader #kai chisaki x male reader #n*fw #overhaul n*fw #overhaul x reader n*fw #overhaul x male reader n*fw #kai chisaki n*fw #kai chisaki x reader n*fw #kai chisaki x male reader n*fw

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years ago

Text

Freedom

Prompts: Crossover, Distant, Safe and Sound | A03 link here | Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

Some confused drabble on Gundam Seed crossover with SS, referencing the scene where Lacus Clyne saved Kira Yamato from his fight with Athrun Zala. Technical notes at the end of the post!

The clanging of metals, the smell of burning wires, the endless beeping of the monitor, and the sickening slash of Justice’s sword through his cockpit. He remembered being exposed to the open air, hearing the waves of a nearby ocean, and seeing Naruto’s face in a Zaft uniform – his face constricted in extreme anger and hatred. He thought this was what he deserved for killing Hyuuga Neji, but he was caught in a crossfire and war was a matter of survival.

Then there was the explosion.

No matter which way one saw it, he should have been dead. Naruto’s Justice detonated after the blonde ejected out of safety. His stomach was bleeding out from a debris when they clashed into one of the PLANT’s areas. He should have been dead, but instead, he woke up to the gentle singing of a familiar voice.

Sakura Haruno, the famed icon and face of PLANT and the only child of the leader of Haruno Faction which was the primary peacekeeping force and bridge between the Zaft Forces and Earth Alliance. Long pink, wavy hair framed the sides of his face and tickled the bandages on his skin while striking green eyes try to follow the movement of his pupils. Some months ago, he rescued her while she drifted in space inside an escape pod, her escort having been mistakenly struck by Earth Alliance as an offensive party. Some months ago, he amicably returned her safely to her fiancé, Naruto, in a covert operation. Some months ago, he met her and got to know her kindness. And now, he was bound to receive it again.

“Sasuke? Can you hear me?” Her hands gently brushed the fringes away from his face. How long has he been out? Somewhere, he heard the waves go up against the same shore. “You can sleep, if you want. Sleep for as long as you want. I’ll be here.”

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

What was this place? It seemed devoid of war – pristine shores, blue sea, the quiet rustling of palm leaves, the warm sunshine. So far off from the neutral colony he grew up in – of the sudden attack and open fire from the skies, so far off from the open space where galaxy belts have been littered with gundam debris and frozen bodies.

She found him on the edge of the ocean, the waves lapping his wrinkled bare toes. He has been here for hours. She made her way to his side, followed by a small pink circular shape hopping across the sand.

“Haro! Haro! Haro!” The robot cried out after its owner; Sakura spun around and caught Naruto’s creation between her hands, nuzzling it as if it was her pet.

Sasuke hesitated for a while – she was a Coordinator after all, conceived with the most superior genes, and he was too, he was but he hated their kind all the same. The same kind who saw themselves far above the Naturals to the extent that they would wage war and kill.

“How tiring, isn’t it?” Sakura suddenly asked out of the blue, her green eyes arresting him in all their sincerity. “The senseless fighting when there is good in everyone.”

“That’s not true,” he rebutted…which was stupid because he hadn’t thanked her yet for saving him.

“Naruto is a good person even when you were kids, isn’t that right?” The circular robot was wriggling in her hands and she let it go, only for it to almost fall to the water and to its electrifying death if not for Sasuke’s quick hands.

“You also have some good in you,” she said with a smile. She took the fussy robot from his hands and went back to their family mansion.

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

Sasuke found himself drifting in and out of his own consciousness; he would always fall into a daydream, the collage of the civilian ship ejecting from their mother ship and getting struck by a missile keep replaying in front of him. Screams would often escape him, even during daylight, but the touch of her hands steadied him, and her green eyes would reel him back to safe ground.

He would allow himself to lean further into her skin, liking the warmth a little too much, but torn all the same. She was his childhood friend’s fiancé, and he stole too many precious people away from him already.

It was effective, the way she led him in walks along the shore, her hand in his, and haro following closely behind, filling in the gaps of silences with his automated voice. When the robot finally stopped chirping to recharge, she would let go of his hand and hum a random song. He might have heard it before, in a far away moment and now unfamiliar moment of peace, when he was still a student and led a normal life.

“I killed Neji,” he blurted out, unaware of the consequences, but possibly to rile her up, to make her angry at him, to make it easier to go away.

Sakura brought her loose strands to the side of her shoulder, braiding the length of it while averting her gaze from him. “When I was fifteen, the Zaft Forces struck the civilian plane my mom was in. She accompanied my father to a diplomatic meeting with the Orb Union while I was here in PLANT. But I caught a fever and I asked for her despite being surrounded by nurses. I really missed her that time, you see. So she went on board the earliest civilian plane in Panama. Unfortunately, it was also the day the Earth Forces skirmished with Zaft and a stray missile hit their engine. That put a metaphorical dent as well in the diplomatic discussions.” She returned her attention to him, her pink hair unfinished and already coming undone. “We all suffered deaths, one way or the other, and each loss only breeds hatred if the cycle isn’t broken.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“Kindness,” Sakura extended her hand to him, and he subconsciously reached out to accept it.

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

“Sakura-chan!”

Sasuke avoided the throng of kids that suddenly surrounded Sakura. He found himself standing beside Sai, the reverend who pulled him from the wreckage some weeks ago.

“They’re Naturals, if you’re wondering,” Sai said. “Rescued and fostered here under a neutrality agreement.”

“Savior’s complex?” Sasuke asked, still defensive about the matter.

“Just common moral decency.” The reverend had this mysterious smile etched forever on his face, and while Sasuke learned to read people, he could never read him accurately.

When the orphanage visit calmed down, and they were left alone with biscuits and tea on the gazebo overlooking the ocean, Sakura received the video message transmitted through Haro. She instinctively angled her body so whoever was on the other side won’t see him.

“Ms. Haruno,” a voice started. “We caught wind of some news.”

Sakura nodded, a cue to continue.

“It’s Operation Spitbreak. The real target is the Alaska HQ.”

Sasuke hitched a breath – if he recalled correctly, his mother ship Archangel intended to refuel there and stock on supplies. All the big guns were in Panama, strategizing for the penultimate and inevitable battle. So why Alaska?

Ah, they were the remaining big ship with the firepower that could match them.

Sakura noticed the change in his countenance, and she immediately ended the call after a quick word of thanks. Arms engulfed him in a gentle hug. “I guess it’s time.”

His arms wrapped around her waist tentatively. “I want to stay a little bit longer in this place where everything is safe and sound.”

“Not for long.” She tightened her hold on him. “Not for long, Sasuke.”

He did the same, trying to savor her fleeting presence in his embrace.

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

That night, she and Sai led him to a facility under the Haruno family mansion. The steel doors opened after the usual biometrics – iris scan, hand print, and voice recognition. The sight astounded him when the lights started to come on. The gundam was bigger than his previous, Strike, and visually had more missiles and armaments.

Sai handed him a paper bag containing his new mobile suit. “It’s X10A Freedom Gundam, one of the two newest developments of Zaft. You’ll find that it’s much more lighter compared to previous models with faster mobility stats, and more devastating firepower. But you’ll be all right, you have the seed of the coordinator after all. What a dream it would be to see it used for coexistence.” He didn’t wait for Sasuke’s reply and quietly moved away to give the two privacy.

“Isn’t this too much?” Sasuke asked her. She hasn’t even asked him whether his views of the world have changed.

“I believe you’ll do the right thing.” Sakura leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Come back to me safely?”

Sasuke held her gaze, sincere in the uttering of his next words. “I will.”

TECHNICAL NOTES

GUNDAM – General Purpose Utility Non-Discontinuity Augmentation Maneuvering Weapon System

Coordinators – genetically enhanced human beings; improved traits e.g. faster learning, stronger bodies, more honed talents

Naturals – naturally born human being which did not undergo genetic modifications

Earth Forces/Earth Alliance – predominantly Natural

ZAFT – Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty; PLANT’s national army, members comprised fully of coordinators

PLANT – space colonies

Orb Union – nation composed of neutral territories located east of New Guinea

Music used for this writing: Mizu no Akashi | Fields of Hope

#ssm21 #ssm21d8 #ssm21d10 #ssm21d11 #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasuke #sakura #crossover with gundam seed #kira yamato #lacus clyne #gundam seed #im so sorry im late huhu

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rhosyn-du · 3 years ago

Text

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Eight

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Eight

“If you’re taking me to a strip club, I’m walking out and crashing Magnus’s bachelor party.”

“Dude, have a little faith.” Jace grabbed Alec’s elbow and helped him out of the car.

“And stop scrunching your nose to try to see through the blindfold,” Izzy said from Alec’s other side. “We can see you doing it. Besides, do you really think there aren’t going to be strippers at Magnus’s party? Have you met Catarina and Ragnor?”

“Yes, and I trust their taste in strippers more than I trust yours.”

“I think I’m supposed to be insulted,” Izzy said, opening a door so Jace could usher Alec through, “but honestly, I kind of just want to ask Cat if she knows any good strip clubs I can take Clary to for our next date night.”

Alec made a pained sound. “Can I request a moratorium on anything that involves strippers and any of my siblings?”

“You can request it,” Jace said, “but it doesn’t mean we’ll listen. Mind the gap; you’re about to step into an elevator.”

“Isn’t my bachelor party supposed to be about things I like?”

Izzy pushed the button for their floor. “No, it’s supposed to be about doing things with your friends and siblings before you get married and forget all about us.”

“Iz, I meet you for drinks literally every week. I’m not going to stop just because Magnus and I are married instead of engaged.” A slow smile spread across Alec’s face. “I’m marrying Magnus tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you are.” Jace patted Alec’s shoulder as the elevator doors slid open. “Almost there, buddy.”

They led Alec out of the elevator and down the hall.

“Okay stop,” Izzy said when they reached their destination. “You can take the blindfold off now.”

Alec made a show of keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he pulled off the blindfold, opening one eye slowly as though bracing for something horrible. Jace saw the moment Alec recognized where he was, his shoulders relaxing all at once.

Alec glanced between his siblings, unimpressed. “This is the door to our loft. I live here.”

“I told you I was going to plan you the perfect bachelor party,” Jace said. “Did you really want to spend your last night as a single man somewhere else?”

“Your party awaits, big brother,” Izzy said, swinging the door open.

“Alexander!” Magnus met them at the door, smiling broadly. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up.”

“We had to drive around enough that he wouldn’t know where we were going,” Jace explained. “You know what his crazy sense of direction is like.”

Alec gave his fiancé a questioning look. “What happened to separate bachelor parties being an important part of the tradition?”

“Ragnor and Catarina reminded me that some traditions really aren’t that important,” Magnus said airily. “Especially when breaking them would make you happy.”

“He means he sulked and whined about having to spend all night away from you until we suggested a joint party,” Catarina said, handing Alec a martini and Izzy something dark and fruity with far too many cherries. “And then he pretended like it was all our idea.”

“It was pitiful, really,” Ragnor added. “At one point, he actually languished on my couch to moan about it like some discount gothic heroine.”

“And on that note,” Magnus said, taking Alec’s arm, “my fiancé and I will be going to join our friends who don’t intend to spend all evening mocking me.”

“That’s really sweet, you know,” Alec said as he let Magnus lead him away.

“Well,” Ragnor said, “it’s my duty as Magnus’s co-best-man to make sure he is sufficiently mocked this evening, so I suppose I must follow.” He looked at Jace and Izzy. “I believe Clary and Simon are in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the cupcakes.”

Jace threw Izzy a questioning look. “Cupcakes?”

Izzy shook her head. “Must have been something Ragnor and Catarina planned. Let’s go see.”

The cupcakes, it turned out, were dick-shaped. And because it was Clary decorating them, they were very accurately dick-shaped.

“Oh yeah,” Izzy laughed, “this was definitely Cat’s doing.”

“Cat was in charge of baking, I’m in charge of decorating,” Clary confirmed, eyeing the cupcake she was working on critically. “Devil’s food cake with a chocolate-and-whiskey ganache filling and a variety of different icings. We’re calling them cock-cakes. Simon, pass me the lemon buttercream?”

“You got it, boss,” Simon said, grabbing one of the many pastry bags lined out on the counter and handing it to Clary before stepping over to Jace and greeting him with a warm smile that made Jace’s insides melt. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” Jace couldn’t help his answering smile, couldn’t help drawing Simon into a soft kiss that felt easier than it probably should. “If I knew you were going to be creating culinary dick art without me, I would have made Iz drive Alec around on her own.”

“I’m mostly just assisting.” Simon leaned into him, stealing another quick kiss. “Clary’s the real artistic genius behind this masterpiece.”

“It’s true, my girlfriend is a genius,” Izzy agreed happily, walking over to wrap her arms around Clary’s waist from behind.

“Right now, this artistic genius is being distracted from finishing her cupcakes by too many people in the kitchen. You two,” she gestured at Simon and Jace, “take that finished tray out to the table.”

“Wait, how come we have to be the ones to leave?” Simon wondered. “Izzy’s being way more distracting than we are.”

“Because she’s cuter than you are,” Clary said without looking up from her cupcakes. “Go.”

Jace looked at Simon. “The lady has spoken, I guess. Come on, let’s go watch Alec pretend he doesn’t think these cupcakes are hilarious.”

~~~

Jace couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy. He wasn’t sure he ever had been this happy. The joint bachelor party had been a rousing success—cock-cakes, a stripper who was definitely not better than he would have hired, and all—and Jace was so glad he and Izzy had been able to help do this for Alec. And it had been amazing to see Alec so joyful and so obviously in love, to see Izzy and Clary and how happy they made each other. To feel the possibility of a love like that for himself every time Simon took his hand, to see it every time Simon smiled at him, to hear it every time Simon said his name.

It was enough to make him want to be a little reckless. Maybe even reckless enough to tell Simon that he was more to Jace than a fake-boyfriend-with-benefits, that Jace wanted them to be more. It was hardly a new thought, but Jace thought that maybe he was finally ready to say the words out loud.

“Hey, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” Simon said, as if reading his thoughts. “When we get back to the hotel,” he added, throwing a pointed glance at their Uber driver.

Jace smiled at him. “Sure. I actually wanted to talk to you, too.”

“Cool.” Simon sounded nervous. Jace could relate. Now that this was actually happening, he felt like he had an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies in his chest.

Jace’s butterflies hadn’t calmed down any by the time they made it back to their room, and he could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off Simon as he kicked his shoes off and started pulling out his clothes for morning.

“So,” Jace said, leaning against the wall with an affected casualness, “what did you want to talk about?”

Simon squared his shoulders, turned to face him. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Jace’s whole world rocked sideways. “What?”

This was not how this conversation was supposed to go.

“This whole fake dating thing. It was a mistake. I probably shouldn’t even have suggested it in the first place, but I thought—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong, and I can’t keep pretending with you, so.” He took a deep breath, obviously steeling himself. “So, this is has to be it. After the wedding tomorrow, no more pretending.”

“Oh.” It was all Jace could find it in himself to say. He reached for the bravado he would normally wrap around himself in a situation like this, but it had deserted him entirely. “I can’t keep pretending with you.” It had all been pretend for Simon. And Jace didn’t even have any right to be hurt by it, because it was what he’d agreed to.

“It’s just,” Simon continued, “seeing Alec and Magnus so happy tonight, and seeing the way Clary and Izzy are together, and even the dumb text Becky sent me earlier about how excited she is to see Maia tomorrow, it all made me realize just how much I want that. I want it with someone I love who loves me back, and you—”

“And I’m not a relationship kind of guy,” Jace finished for him. He didn’t actually need to hear all the reasons that would never be him. He was aware of his own failings.

“Right.” Simon’s voice was barely above a whisper, all his nervous energy having drained away.

“I get it.” Jace forced a smile. Maybe he couldn’t be someone Simon wanted to really be with, but he could at least pretend he wasn’t devastated by that fact. “You deserve that kind of happiness, maybe more than anyone I know. I hope—” He drew in a sharp breath. He would not let his voice tremble. “I hope you find someone who can give it to you.”

He turned away, unable to maintain the facade any longer. “I’m going to hit the shower before bed.” He wasn’t proud of having to hide the bathroom with his feelings, but he couldn’t stay here with Simon, not now.

Jace spent a long time under the shower’s spray. Until he was sure Simon must have fallen asleep. Until he was sure all his tears had washed away.

~~~

Best man duties were almost enough to distract Jace from his own problems for most of the next morning, and he threw himself into making sure everyone in the wedding party was where they were supposed to be when they were supposed to be, keeping Max away from anything flammable, and keeping Maryse and Robert away from each other. In the thankfully rare moments of downtime, he forced himself to put on a lighthearted demeanor. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of Alec having a perfect wedding, especially not his own stupid feelings.

He should have known that Alec would see right through him.

“You okay?”

Jace glanced up from the mirror he was using to fix his bowtie. Everything was set, everyone was in their proper places, and Jace had nothing left to do but keep Alec company and wait for the ceremony to start.

“I’m fine. I’m not the one getting married in,” Jace checked his watch, “twenty-three minutes.”

“Don’t deflect. You’re doing that thing you do with your eyebrows when something’s really bothering you, and I’m not doing anything for the next twenty-three minutes if you want to talk about it.”

“What I want,” Jace told him, “is for you to stop worrying about other people and get your ass married.”

“Fair enough,” Alec agreed. “But I’m here when you do want to talk about it. I know I’ve been completely wrapped up in wedding stuff for a while, but you’re still my brother and my best friend, and I don’t want you to think you’re any less important to me now than you always have been.”

Jace walked over and put a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “The only complaint I have about you being wrapped up in wedding stuff is how sappy it’s apparently made you.”

Alec chuckled. “Oh god, that was really sappy, wasn’t it? Shit.” He wiped at his eyes. “I think I might actually cry out there. You’re not allowed to make fun of me if I do.”

“Buddy,” Jace said gravely, “as your brother and best man, it is my solemn duty to make fun of you for it for the rest of our lives. But I’ll wait until you’re back from your honeymoon.”

Alec didn’t cry during the ceremony. Jace noticed a few moments when he had distinctly watery eyes, though, and filed those away for future teasing. Then Alec and Magnus were kissing and the ceremony was over and Jace had absolutely nothing left to distract him from his thoughts.

Especially when the subject of those thoughts was waiting for him in the reception hall, looking as hot as Jace had ever seen him in a perfectly tailored black suit. Jace had managed to avoid looking for Simon during the wedding, and seeing him now hit like a punch to the gut. His emotions were still too raw to deal with what had happened the night before, and there was only one way he was going to make it through this. Luckily, it was the thing he was supposed to be doing. Namely, pretending his ass off.

So he greeted Simon with a warm smile and a kiss to the cheek before settling into his seat. They were at a table with the rest of the wedding party, along with Clary, and it was all so familiar that Jace had no trouble falling back into his role, teasing the hell out of Alec and congratulating the happy couple. Simon made it easy, not acting any different than he had before their conversation, never hesitating to offer small touches and gestures of physical affection, even moving his chair closer so they could lean into each other once they were done eating. It would have made Jace a little sick if he let himself think about it, which he pointedly did not.

Jace let himself get lost in it. It was stupid, and probably a little selfish, but if this was the last time he would ever get to be with Simon like this, he was going to enjoy it.

“Dance with me.” He didn’t mean to say it, but apparently he’d had enough champagne that he wasn’t quite thinking before speaking anymore. He knew as soon as he said it that he’d overstepped. After all, look what had happened the last time they’d danced together.

“Oh.” Simon looked genuinely shocked by the suggestion. “I, uh...”

“I mean,” Jace backpedaled, “if you want to.”

“I believe I might fancy a dance, myself,” Ragnor said. He extended his hand to Madzie, the flower girl and Catarina’s daughter. “Might I have this dance, young lady?”

“Can we do the twirls?” Madzie asked, jumping up from her chair and spinning around to demonstrate.

“Obviously,” Ragnor told her seriously. “After all, what’s the point of dancing without twirls?”

Madzie didn’t bother to give a verbal answer, just grabbed Ragnor’s hand and skipped off toward the dance floor.

“With any luck, that will help her work off some of the sugar buzz from all that cake.” Catarina gave Magnus a long look. “I can’t believe you gave her a second slice.”

“My dearest Catarina, it’s my wedding day, and I will spoil my goddaughter if I want to.”

Catarina scoffed. “You say that like you don’t spoil her every day.”

“It’s true,” Alec agreed. “We might need to give her a third slice if we want to spoil her extra today.” He managed to keep a straight face right up until Cat’s napkin hit him in the face.

“I think I might need to dance off my own sugar buzz,” Izzy announced, grabbing Clary’s hand. “Come on, hot stuff. Let’s go shake our booties.”

Clary laughed. “I can’t exactly say no when you’re offering to shake your booty for me.”

“You know what?” Simon said suddenly. The look he gave Jace was challenging. “I do want to dance.”

It was Jace’s turn to be shocked, but he recovered quickly. “Okay.” He met Simon’s challenge with a smirk. “Let’s dance.”

Jace’s bravado was shaken slightly when the music transitioned to a slow love song right as they made it to the dance floor. But Simon didn’t hesitate, stepping onto the dance floor and drawing him close.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke, rocking gently to the music. They danced close enough that Jace could hear Simon’s breaths, feel them against his cheek. It was too much and not enough all at once, and Jace had to say something or he was going to go crazy.

“Thanks, by the way. For, you know, all of this. I don’t think I ever said that.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” Simon’s voice was low and intimate. “This was as much for me as it was for you.”

Jace wanted to say that it couldn’t possibly be, that if any of this meant half what it did to him for Simon, then he wouldn’t be able to give it up so easily. But that would have been deeply unfair, no matter how true, so instead he just said, “Well, thank you, anyway.”

Simon pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, and Jace didn’t understand why he looked so sad. “Thank you.”

And then they were kissing, slow and gentle, and Jace didn’t even remember moving, but he must have or how else could they have gotten here? All the longing and heartbreak he’d been pushing down all day rose up, threatening to break him open and spill out all over the dance floor. The only things holding him together were Simon’s arms around him, Simon’s body pressed against his as they swayed to near-forgotten music, Simon’s mouth on his.

When the song ended and Simon pulled away from him, Jace stumbled and had to force himself upright.

“Come back to the hotel with me,” he said urgently. He couldn’t just let Simon go, he realized, not without at least trying. They could go back to their room, and they could talk, and Jace would somehow find the words to convince Simon to stay. “Please.”

Simon closed his eyes and visibly steeled himself. When he opened them again, Jace knew he’d lost before he even had the chance to put up a fight.

“I already made plans to hang out with Becky and Maia tonight. You know, sibling and sibling’s-maybe-girlfriend bonding. Maia’s going to give me a ride back to Boston in the morning.” He took Jace’s hand and lifted it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on his knuckles, then pressed something small and metal into his palm before letting go.

Jace couldn’t do anything but watch him walk away, the weight of his father’s ring heavier than it had any right to be in his hand.

~~~

The apartment was quiet when Jace got home, and he was both relieved that he wouldn’t have to face Simon yet and disappointed because, as much as he hated that he would have to box his feelings away, he missed Simon, even though it had only been two days since they’d last seen each other.

He found the note pinned to the refrigerator, held in place by the Spider-Man magnet that he’d gotten Simon as a “congrats on surviving a horrible lab partner and not failing chemistry” gift last year.

Staying at Bat’s for a while. -S

That was all. Nothing about why Simon had left or when he was coming back. If he was coming back. Jace’s fingers almost itched with the need to text Simon to find out exactly what the hell was going on, but the fact that Simon had left a note instead of texting suggested he didn’t mean for this to be a discussion.

Not that Jace actually needed a discussion. Simon had made it very clear that things were over between the two of them, that he didn’t feel the same way about Jace that Jace did about him, and instead of accepting it and moving on like a good friend would have, he’d kissed Simon at the wedding. He’d been on the verge of begging Simon to give him a chance. Of course Simon didn’t want to see him right now. He wouldn’t want to see him, either.

For half a second, Jace considered taking Alec up on his offer to call if he needed to talk, but Alec was on his honeymoon, and Jace might on occasion be a self-centered asshole, but he didn’t want to be that much of a self-centered asshole. Instead, he grabbed his half-empty package of Double Stuf Oreos and took them to the couch, where he turned on Return of the Jedi and bundled himself up in the fleece blanket Simon always used when his feet got too cold in winter.

When the movie was over and the Oreos were long gone, he dragged the blanket into Simon’s room and curled up on his bed, on top of the covers. Sleeping on top of Simon’s bed wasn’t as pathetic as sleeping in Simon’s bed, he reasoned. Especially if no one was there to see it. And if the fleece blanket kept any tears from getting on Simon’s comforter, then he wasn’t really crying.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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salmonmakiii · 4 years ago

Note

Could I request a timestamp! 20:53 of husband Yaku with fluff and maybe a lil’ suggestive?

How can I turn down a request when it’s my MAN? ♡✧( ु•⌄• ) Here ya go sweetie!

[20:53]

About : Yaku x reader Note : Fluff, suggestive at the end though! Forgive me if I have any errors in this one!

You pressed your thumb to the little square scanner on top of the door handle, you waited for a second and when it let out a beep you pushed the thick wooden door opened. Yaku didn’t fail to notice the little excited squeak you let out.

“We’re finally home!” You cheered, throwing your hands up as you turned to the corner of the hall. Yaku hummed as he closed the door behind him. Once the door clicked, the man pulled both of your suitcases and set it aside. He then went to your side and snaked his hand around your waist.

“Did you hate our trip that much?” He chuckled, placing a kiss on the side of your head as he reached the light switch with his other hand. You turned to him and shook your head.

“What? Of course not! I love it,” Yaku’s features soften at your cheerful face, “I just miss home. We’ve been there for months!”

“Two in a half weeks are not months,” Yaku watched you giggle and free yourself from his hand.

Around three weeks ago, Yaku informed you about the upcoming game in Russia. It was normal for him to go overseas for weeks and you were okay with that, you were prepared. However this time, your husband had asked you to come with him.

You hadn’t forgotten how his eyes glowed with pure happiness when you accepted. Both of you were busy with your works and these past few months had been hard for the two of you to spend time. Yaku would always leave early and come back home late at night, tired from his practices. You would already be asleep by the time Yaku was home, exhausted from all the meetings and projects you did.

The hard part was to find someone in the office who can take care of your position while you were away. Surprisingly, one of your closest co-workers insisted on helping you and you were more than thankful.

“It’s no problem at all! I’m tired of you having to whine all the time about not spending enough time with your husband every time we have breaks together,”

You thank the world for people like them.

You took off your shoes and socks, stepping on the rather cold tile of the floor.

“Eh? It’s a bit dusty here,” You purposefully dragged your feet on the floor. You lifted your right foot to see the soles of it getting a thin coat of dust. Yaku walked from behind you, peeking from your shoulder.

“How come? I bought that little cleaning robot for every room,” He said, walking towards the corner of the living room.

“Maybe it ran out of battery?” You suggested,

“It shouldn’t. Even if it did, it should automatically go to the charging station.”

Yaku crouched down and picked up the circular object. He checked the circular object, raising an eyebrow when he saw the little red light, a signal that the battery ran out. He inspected the charging and flinched when he saw the power button wasn’t on.

“The charging station isn’t on!” He facepalmed and massaged his temples. Registering what he just said, you let out a loud laugh at your clumsy husband.

“How could you forget to turn on the charging station?” You wheezed receiving a groan from him.

Is that why he didn’t get any notifications on his phone from the robot?

You went to his crouched down figure, patting his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just clean it up a little,” You said, rolling up your sleeves. Yaku turned to you and raised an eyebrow as he stood up.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Not at all,” You shake your head. Yaku sighed and gave you a small smile he then walked back to the suitcases.

“Then I’ll help you.” Yaku took off his coat, his back facing you as he did. Placing it on his coat on his suitcase handle, he turned to you. He loosened his tie, placing it on top of his coat. He proceeded to open the first button of his shirt and his sleeve, rolling it up when his wrists were both free. You bit your lip, the action never fails to make you feel some type of way. At this point, you don’t know if he was doing this on purpose or not.

Shaking the naughty thoughts out of your head, you cleared your throat.

“Aren’t you tired, Mori?”

“Nope. It’s only – “ He paused, bringing up his left wrist to look at the time, “ – 20:53 anyway,” He waved his hand at you, brushing off your question.

“Now, less talking, more cleaning!”

You and Yaku shared tasks. At first, you were supposed to clean the living room and kitchen but Yaku told you to unload your clothes and wash them. You plastered a grin and teased him about not being able to use the washing machine properly. He never did understand those things but he didn’t want to admit it.

You brought the suitcases upstairs and turned down Yaku’s offer to help you, saying that you’re strong and independent. Your husband shook his head and played along. You walked towards your room and unlocked the door. You were a bit surprised when you saw the robot in the room was wandering around.

I guess he didn’t forget to turn this one on.

You checked the other rooms upstairs and indeed the robots were roaming around. You ran to the edge of the stairs and yelled about the new information you had. Yaku sighed in relief, looks like you guys would only be cleaning the living room then.

Running back to your room, you began unloading your suitcases. You hummed a little song that’s been stuck in your head for a while as you placed your items back to their places. You then went to the washroom and began putting the dirty clothes in as well as the new clothes you and Yaku bought. You were lucky that there weren’t many clothes needed to be washed, since the laundry service was great at Yaku’s apartment in Russia. While washing, you look back at the events that happened there.

There were lots of fun memories with your husband. You met his teammates and his friends there, you watched his practice and would go visit his favorite spots right after. But of course, the most exciting was when his official match started. His performance was amazing; how fast and how accurate he dug the ball never fail to amaze you. But there’s always this one routine you caught him doing whenever he’s about to enter the court.

Yaku might love volleyball but he values everything when it comes to you, even the little things. So you could imagine how much he values your wedding rings, the very item that proves your love and strong bonds for each other. He never wanted to take off the ring, except when it’s necessary or emergency.

Volleyball includes a lot of movements, especially in the arms and hands. Even if his position is a Libero – a position that doesn’t include his hands so much – he was still worried that he might ruin the wedding ring. So he bought a chain necklace and every time he’s going to play in a game, he’d slid the ring to the necklace and wore it throughout the game. He thinks of it as his lucky charm.

Now back to the routine.

You sat on the front row, even though you were high-key scared of being smacked by a ball coming at you at 100 mph, you wanted to see your husband better. He was standing at the sides, waiting to be switched again by a player. Every once in a while he would turn to you or even steal glances. The rotation of his team changed and it was time for him to get back in the court. You watched him high five his teammate and just as his feet were one step away from the court, he reached into his jersey and pulled out the wedding ring, giving it a kiss and once he was in, he tucked it back safely inside.

Your heart exploded in pure happiness every time he does that. But you would never tell him that.

After finishing your cleaning duty – and washing up – you went downstairs to see if your husband needed any help. On the way there you overheard your husband singing a very familiar song. (psst, press the link!)

Once you were in the living room, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

He was sweeping the floor with a broom, his earphones in both ears, and his hips swaying as he sang aloud. You plastered a smile, stifling your laughter as you walked slowly towards him from behind.

“Boo!” You slapped both of your hands on his shoulder and he visibly jumped like a cat, the broom dropping on the floor. He turned around and frowned.

“(Y/n)! I thought I told you to stop scaring me like that!” He yelled, his expression made you howl in laughter.

“You were singing so loudly and your voice sucks, Mori! I had to stop you from getting us in trouble for noise complaints from the neighbors.” You joked,

“My voice isn’t that bad!” He pinched your cheeks, pulling it a little to teach you a lesson

You ordered him to go and wash up as you continued his cleaning work and about twenty minutes later, the two of you laid down on the bed, your limbs tangled as you talk about nothing in particular.

“But it was nice wasn’t it?” He asked, his fingers tangled in your hair.

“What was?”

“The trip. We’re able to spend some much needed time with each other,” You hummed in agreement, a moment of silence engulfing you.

“Are you tired?” he suddenly asked. You looked up at him and shook your head.

“Weirdly enough, no.”

“Good,”

Yaku abruptly sat up and pulled you into his lap. Before you could process what was happening, his lips were already pressing tender kisses to your collarbones and the crook of your neck. You let out a small moan and he pulled away.

“I can help you with that,” he whispered before exploring your neck with his lips, possibly leaving marks.

You didn’t want to give in that easily.

“Are you sure?” You asked, massaging the back of his head with your hands. He pulled away once again and stared at you, his eyes had a mischievous glint in them.

“Believe me, by the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be exhausted.” He smirked. His hands pulled you close as he whispers in your ear.

“Maybe even get noise complaints from the neighbors,”

Seeing that you were speechless, your husband chuckled.

“What do you say?”

#Haikyuu!!#Haikyuu #Haikyuu!! Fluff #Haikyuu Fluff #Haikyuu!! x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Yaku Morisuke #Yaku #Yaku Morisuke fluff #Yaku fluff #Yaku Morisuke x reader #Yaku x reader #Yaku Morisuke scenario #Yaku scenario #Yaku Morisuke imagines #Yaku imagines

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onecanonlife · 4 years ago

Text

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 6,567

Chapter Warnings: swearing, minor violence, manipulation/mind control, blood, vomiting, and explicit s.uicidal thoughts

Chapter Summary: Wilbur meets the Egg. It doesn’t go well. At all.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Seven: feet in the fire

A new day dawns, as per usual.

Tommy and Tubbo are waiting for him when he steps outside, shielding his eyes against the sun. They’ve got their heads tilted together, discussing something in hushed tones, Tommy gesticulating wildly, and he takes a moment to stop and smile at them. It’s just like when they were kids, the both of them getting into one mischief or another. Tommy was always the one to be blamed for it, but Wilbur knows better than to think that Tubbo doesn’t instigate his own fair share of chaos. It’s hidden better, but they’re two peas in a pod, in the end.

“Should I be concerned?” he asks, the words coming easily. Today is a good day, he thinks. He feels good, better than he has since his return. The darkness has receded, and his heart almost feels light. He can almost forget about the scar that runs across it.

They both jump, heads swiveling toward him.

“Wilbur!” Tommy says, at the exact same time as Tubbo says, “Good morning!” He glances between the two of them, and feels his lips curl upward into a smile once again. It feels easy, to be smiling with them.

“As long as I’m not the victim,” he says, and Tubbo shakes his head.

“No, no,” he says, “see, we were thinking about the Egg, right? And how it’s just, like, an egg. And we assume that it’s red, because of all of the vines, but we’ve never seen it, so we don’t actually know how big it is. I think that it’s a great big egg, because all these vines are big and thick.”

“And I think,” Tommy interjects, “that there’s no way that these vines are coming from the actual Egg itself, because vines don’t hatch out of eggs. So I think that it’s a regular-sized egg, and they’ve got it on a pedestal or something like that, or a, an egg throne. But it’s gonna look so fucking stupid, because it’s literally just a little egg, and we should smash it with something and see what they do about it.”

He hesitates. “I’ve got to go with Tubbo on this one,” he says. “I don’t think it’s going to be a regular egg.”

“Psh, you don’t know,” Tommy says. “You’re dumb. Oh!” His face brightens. “I forgot, Tubbo brought you some things.”

He lifts an eyebrow and takes a few steps forward, and something in his chest warms at the way Tubbo doesn’t tense up like he did the first day, doesn’t flinch back. There is still wariness in his eyes, but he doesn’t think he’s mistaking the way that it’s lessened.

He hardly deserves it. But today is a good day, and he’ll take it for the moment.

“Yeah,” Tubbo says. “Tommy’s still dirt poor, so he asked me to do it, but here’s some gear. We thought you should have something.”

Tommy is sputtering at the description, but Tubbo ignores him. He opens up his inventory, and then takes out—gear. A couple of swords, shimmering with enchantments, a bow, an axe, a pickaxe. Wilbur feels something in him loosen just looking at them; he hadn’t realized how vulnerable he’d felt, being weaponless, and that’s probably a bit fucked up, actually. He didn’t always feel the need to keep a weapon on him at all times.

(you led child soldiers to battle when you were little more than a child yourself and can you really feel surprised, at the way the metal hums in your hand, now, the way your fingers are more secure wrapped around the hilt of a sword than the neck of your guitar?)

(you learned to play such different songs, the blood bright and accented in your eyes, every scream a crescendo)

He glances up, checking to be sure that Tubbo really does intend these for him. Tubbo nods, so he crouches down to inspect the weapons, now all laying on the grass.

“I’ve got armor too,” Tubbo says, “but I wasn’t sure that you’d want it.”

And doesn’t that carry a wealth of connotations, of memories? There is a sharpness to the words along with the question, and Wilbur

(my L’Manberg, my L’Manberg, a promise of safety you never could keep)

turns it over in his mind, poking at it.

“No armor, thank you,” he says. “I never did like it all that much. I’ll let you know if that changes. Thank you for these, though.” He gathers up the weapons, choosing a sword to wear at his waist and sliding the rest of them one by one into his inventory, and then glances up again to catalog their reactions. Tubbo seems to have expected the answer, but Tommy is frowning at him, and he has to wonder if he’s remembering something else, remembering

(the last time he refused armor, he was intending to die, had written himself off as lost, lost along with his symphony, the only possible redemption in the press of a button, the lighting of a match, and Tommy didn’t know it then but hindsight is twenty-twenty and Tommy has always been too smart for his own good)

the wars and what followed.

Tommy sees him looking, and his expression smooths over.

“Alright boys,” he crows, as if nothing at all had happened. “Egg time!”

Tubbo snorts. “Egg time,” he agrees, and Wilbur stands.

“Egg time,” he says, and then they’re off.

The day really is pleasant, a cool breeze blowing and not a cloud in the sky. Tommy and Tubbo fill the air with aimless chatter and bickering, and he chimes in sometimes and doesn’t even feel strange about doing so. This feels natural, feels right, and if he can have more days like this, days that put a spring in his step and a gentle tune in his ears, he thinks that being alive won’t be such a chore after all. Perhaps he can even learn to be thankful for it, well and truly.

He thinks that would be nice. To love life again. It’s a distant, glimmering possibility, but today it seems a bit nearer.

“It’s under Bad’s mansion, I think,” Tubbo is saying. “But they made another entrance, I’m pretty sure. Should be somewhere around—”

“Hey, Tubbo!” a voice calls. “Hey, Tommy!”

And it is a new voice. Not Tommy or Tubbo. Not Sam. A new voice, and that means a new person, and Wilbur can’t prevent the way all his muscles go taut, can’t prevent himself from fingering the hilt of his gifted sword. It’s partially a leftover instinct from the war and partially his own fear, his own aversion to being seen by anyone, to being forced into a confrontation.

He wasn’t always like this. He used to delight in speaking to people, or in a good debate, twisting his opponent’s words all around into Gordian knots until he has his victory. He’s not sure that that part of him will ever return, will ever fully recover from

(the world is against you and you are alone and you can trust no one for they will shake your hand with a smile in their eyes and stab you in the back as soon as you forget yourself and turn)

those dark days, the days that took his charisma and twisted it into spite and paranoia and manipulation. Words that once were sweet drip down bitter-sharp, or shrivel on his tongue before they can breathe at all.

“Huh—oh!” Tubbo says. “It’s just Ranboo, Wilbur, don’t worry. Ranboo!”

Tubbo can see his stress, then, and that’s bad enough. He doesn’t need anyone else bearing witness to it. But Tubbo is already calling out and waving, and there is someone approaching them from off to the side of the path, someone very, very tall, half their skin pitch black and the other half stark white, a small golden crown perched in their hair. And Wilbur thinks, I have no fucking clue who this is, and a split second later, he thinks, Oh, it’s Ranboo, and the cognitive dissonance threatens to overwhelm him before he figures out its source.

He has never met this guy in his life. But Ghostbur did. Ghostbur—liked him? He’s fairly certain. Ghostbur liked everyone, of course, but they bonded, he’s pretty sure. Over memory problems? Ranboo has memory problems? That seems right?

What a mess.

“Hi,” Ranboo says. “Feels like it’s been a while. Oh, hey Gho—ostbur?” His voice trails off on the last word, going up about an octave and a half, suddenly very uncertain.

What does he remember about Ranboo? Soft-spoken, he thinks. Kind. Generally pretty nervous. A sardonic sense of humor, if you can get to it, one that made Ghostbur laugh. That’s all he can come up with. He was with Tubbo’s L’Manberg, but he doesn’t know what happened to him after—well. After.

He steps forward, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Not really,” he says. “Alivebur is more accurate.” He pauses. “Please just call me Wilbur, though. It’s nice to meet you. In the flesh, that is.”

Ranboo’s eyes widen. He’s not making eye contact, fixing his gaze just to Wilbur’s left instead, and—ah. That’s right. Enderman.

“Wow,” Ranboo says. “Uh, yeah! Nice to meet you too, I guess? Um, has this been a thing, or…?”

“Recent development,” Tubbo says. “We’re taking it slow.”

He feels like he should object to that phrasing. It makes him sound a bit like he’s… in their care or something like that, though he supposes that’s not entirely inaccurate. He’s hardly made strides to go and do anything by himself.

“Oh,” Ranboo says. He pauses. “Well, that’s cool. Do you know how?” He seems to regret the question immediately, holding his hands up in front of him, placating. “Not that you have to tell me or anything! But it’s just, I was there when Phil tried to resurrect you that one time, I don’t know if you remember. And it didn’t really seem to work?”

“You’re fine,” he says. “We don’t really know. We’re rolling with it.”

“That’s fair,” Ranboo says, and there is a moment of awkward silence. Wilbur can tell that he wants to ask something else, but he refrains, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “Um, so I was just at the spider spawner. Needed to fix some armor. What are you guys up to?”

“We want to see the Egg,” Tommy says. “Have you seen the Egg, Ranboo?”

“The Egg?” Ranboo repeats. “You mean the one with the, uh—” He gestures around them, presumably at the vines that sprawl across the ground nearby. “No, I haven’t seen it. I don’t really want to, if I’m entirely honest. Kind of creepy, how people are fawning over it. I mean, it’s just an egg. Presumably. So I’m not really interested in getting involved.”

“We’re going to draw stuff all over it if it’s small,” Tommy says. “I’ve decided that just now.”

“Oh?” Ranboo says, and then doesn’t seem to know where to go with it.

“You could come with us if you wanted,” Tubbo says, but Ranboo shakes his head.

“Nah, I should be getting home. I have to feed Enderchest,” he says. “It was nice seeing you guys, though. And you, Wilbur. Um, welcome back to life, I guess?” He hesitates. “I gotta ask, does Phil know? Because we’re neighbors, and I was wondering if I should say anything about it or not.”

“You’re neighbors?” Wilbur asks, and looks at Ranboo in a new light. Young, anxious, in need of a secure place to stay once L’Manberg was destroyed—huh. That fits the bill. That fits the bill exactly. This is the type of kid that he can see Phil getting attached to.

(his heart’s always been too big for his own good, too soft despite all the years he’s lived, though he has to wonder why Ranboo is allowed a place and not Tommy, not the child he took in as his own years and years ago)

(it’s a matter of betrayal, perhaps, perceived on both sides, and which is right, he doesn’t know)

(he’s not going to tell Tommy that he’s not angry about L’Manberg’s destruction, because that might be a betrayal in and of itself)

“Huh,” he says, instead of voicing any of his thoughts aloud. “No, Phil knows, I’ve seen him. Him and Techno both.”

“Okay, good to know,” Ranboo says, and he really does look relieved. “Good luck with the Egg.”

“See you around, Ranboo,” Tubbo says. “You should stop by Snowchester sometime.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” Ranboo says, and then with a slight wave and a bit of a smile, he’s walking off along the path. Wilbur stares after him for a moment, which is why he sees how he stops and pulls out a book after he’s gone a few dozen meters and begins rapidly scribbling in it.

His memory book. He remembers that.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Tubbo says. They start walking again, and then they leave the path and start crossing the grass. The vines become thicker, more frequent. Something about them fills him with a sense of unease. Probably their color; outside of the nether, nothing is quite that shade of red, a dark crimson that reminds him of nothing so much as blood. Not dried blood, not the color it gets when it’s caked on like rust,

(coating his sleeves and he didn’t clean them so the blood is still there and he can smell it and the sword is in his hand and the stains are never going to come out)

but rather, it’s as if it’s frozen in time, still glistening, ready to flow again when the force holding it back gives way.

“I remember Ranboo,” he says absently. “Sort of. Ghostbur liked him. Though I guess that’s not really an accomplishment.”

And then, they’re at a short structure built into the earth, a ladder leading down. He peers over the edge, and can just barely make out a pool of water at the bottom, intended to break a fall.

“The spawner’s down there,” Tubbo says. “But I’m pretty sure there’s a tunnel that connects it to underneath Bad’s mansion, and that’s where the Egg is. Are we ready?”

“Of course we’re ready,” Tommy scoffs. He’s grinning, bright and wild. It’s the promise of adventure, Wilbur supposes, excitement without too much danger. Something new to discover, perhaps a new prank to play. His enthusiasm is infectious, but somehow, he can’t bring himself to join in fully. The sun is still shining, but something heavy weighs on him now, something that he can’t place. It’s the vines, he thinks, their unsettling nature, and he can’t bring himself to be sure that this will be without risk.

But Tommy’s on the ladder. Tubbo’s got one leg over the side, preparing to follow. There’s nowhere to go but down.

They make it without incident, and the sound of at least a hundred spiders hits his ears as soon as his feet touch the ground. He winces, trying to ignore the skittering and shrieking, but it’s impossible to do so entirely. But Tubbo is right—there are several tunnels leading out of this room, and there is a fuzzy red glow emanating from one of them. He exchanges glances with Tommy, who is still grinning, and with Tubbo, who has a smile on his face. Neither of them think this could go wrong, then. He should probably trust to that. He’s been alive again for all of five days. They know the server better than he does, at the moment.

They descend. He keeps his hand near the hilt of his sword.

He wishes Schlatt were here, just a little bit. His presence would be irritating, but reassuring. Reassuring to have another adult here, little help though he would be. Reassuring to have someone who could make fun of the situation, distract him from his mounting sense of dread. But he hasn’t seen Schlatt since yesterday, since he vanished from the prison, and he

(isn’t worried, not one bit)

can’t help but wonder where he is, what he’s doing. It’s not like anyone else can see him, not like he can touch anything. So how is he occupying his time?

It’s warm down here.

The heat is stifling, humid, like a swamp, almost, but worse, because there are fumes as well, and that acrid scent that comes hand in hand with lava. As they enter the main chamber, it is easy enough to see why: there are patches of lava and molten rock all across the floor, and vines hang down from the ceiling and cover nearly every square inch of space. The floor itself is obsidian, he notices. And there, in the corner—

It can only be the egg. He can’t tell how tall it is, can barely see it though the clusters of vines dangling in front of him. But it is very large, and very red, and beside him, Tommy mutters a curse. Too big to vandalize quickly and hightail it out, but frankly, Wilbur feels as though that’s the least of their problems.

“That is a big egg,” Tubbo says. He sounds impressed.

“I’ve seen bigger,” Tommy grumbles, stepping further into the room. He almost trips over one of the vines, and he shoots a scowl at his feet.

“No you have not,” Tubbo says. “Where have you seen a bigger egg?”

“I—” Tommy stops. “C’mon, let’s go look at it.”

“No, no, I want to know where you’ve seen a bigger egg,” Tubbo presses, even as they walk forward, picking their way through the room carefully. “Wilbur, back me up, where has Tommy seen a bigger egg?”

“Maybe he laid one,” he replies, and that response makes no sense at all, but he can’t be bothered to put in the effort. The closer they get, the more his mind is screaming at him

(get out get out get out)

that something isn’t right about this, that they’ve made a mistake in coming down here, and there is a corner of his brain that is filling with static, buzzing and distracting and uncomfortable. And then they’re standing right in front of it, and that feeling multiplies tenfold.

The Egg is several times his height and even wider across, and it is a shade of red that is unparalleled even by its vines. It is a shade of red that seems to move, that seems to scream, that seems to drip and ooze into the air. It almost looks as though it is made of blood itself, as if he could put out a hand and stick it right though, and he almost tries it before he balks at the idea, every instinct he has rejecting the urge.

No. This Egg is not for touching.

“I’m not sure I like this,” Tubbo murmurs after a moment. His ears lie flat against his head.

“It’s just an egg,” Tommy says. “Don’t be a pussy. Wil, what do you think?”

Wilbur opens his mouth and finds that he cannot reply.

“Do you think I could break a piece off?” Tommy asks. “Like a souvenir?”

“You shouldn’t do that,” someone says, and Wilbur jerks violently, his sword half unsheathed before he’s given himself permission for the action.

BadBoyHalo. It’s BadBoyHalo, only not, not Bad as Wilbur remembers him, because his face has taken on an ashen grey pallor, and his capillaries spread out like a web across his face, and they are the same white as his eyes. The same stark white, but somehow sickly, and blood shouldn’t be that color, blood should not be white, and Bad’s face itself looks gaunt and shadowed, half-starved, and his smile, once so kind and genial, is something predatory, something threatening. Bad is a demon, but he has never been a monster, and now Wilbur isn’t so sure that there isn’t a terrible thing peering at him out of those white, blank eyes, a terrible thing that isn’t Bad at all.

Antfrost stands beside him, and Antfrost’s eyes are red instead of blue.

“Hi Tommy, Tubbo,” Bad says. His voice is chipper, pleasant, and yet— “Hi, Wilbur! I didn’t realize that you were back! Have you come to see the Egg?”

Should Bad be this blasé about his appearance? He doesn’t think so. They were never friends.

(and even his friends were not his friends, by the end)

“Yeah, we wanted to check it out,” Tubbo says.

“That’s great,” Bad says. “Visitors are always welcome. It’s a fantastic egg, isn’t it?”

The question is searching, probing. He’s looking for a specific answer. Wilbur thinks that it would be a bad idea to give him the wrong one.

“I mean, it’s very big,” Tommy says.

“It is, it is,” Bad agrees, nodding amiably. “Are you liking it so far? I mean, are you having fun?”

Wilbur opens his mouth, intending to say yes, intending to say it’s the best egg in all the world, intending to say anything and everything that Bad so clearly wants to hear if only it will get them out of here sooner. But his mind is filled with static and he is too slow to the mark, so it is Tommy that answers.

“It’s fine, I guess,” he says. “Your decorations are shit, though. It’s too crowded down here. If I were a decorating expert, which I am, I’d say that you might try to clear some of this out, you know?”

“That’s—an interesting suggestion, Tommy,” Bad says, and his smile is much more strained. He doesn’t bother to hide it. It’s like a thin gash in his face. “I’ll bear that in mind.” He tilts his head. “I like it like this, though. I think it really gives life to the room. And we wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt it.”

“Hurt it?” Tommy repeats, and Wilbur’s heart is suddenly in his throat, with no reason as to why. “It’s a fucking egg.”

Bad goes very still. Very still, and very quiet. Antfrost’s eyes gleam, and his ears twitch.

“It’s a very good Egg,” Bad says. “Maybe you should listen to what it has to say. I bet it has something to offer you.”

That doesn’t—that doesn’t make any sense. Bad isn’t making any sense, and it’s a kind of nonsense that is unnerving, made worse by his apparent sincerity. Wilbur tries to reach out, tries to get Tommy’s attention, tries to get him close, but his arms won’t move. All of his limbs feel thick, heavy, and his head is spinning, airy and light and disconnected, and Bad and Ant are intimidating figures, suddenly, figures that stand between them and the exit. Wilbur thinks that perhaps, he should draw his sword. He doesn’t like the way that Bad is talking, doesn’t like the way that Ant is staring.

Instead, he turns his head to look at the Egg.

Tommy barks a laugh, loud and incredulous, and it’s like someone has driven a pickaxe through Wilbur’s skull. He moans faintly, but no one seems to notice. The room is swimming.

“Have you gone nutters?” Tommy asks. “It’s a fucking Egg. I don’t see a mouth on it anywhere. In fact, if it has a mouth, I don’t want to know about it, because that is fucking disgusting—”

“Actually,” Tubbo says quietly, “I think I can hear it.”

Tommy stops.

“You what?”

“You do?” Bad asks. He takes a step forward. Wilbur wants to take a step back. He doesn’t move. He’s looking at the Egg, and he can’t tear his gaze away, despite what’s happening in the corner of his eye, because there’s something just on the edge of his perception that he can’t—

“What is it saying to you?” Bad continues.

“It’s saying—” Tubbo’s face scrunches up. “Actually, I really don’t think I like this. I think we should go. What I can make out isn’t very polite.” His voice wavers, wobbles, like a spinning top running out of momentum.

“Really,” Bad says. His voice has gone flat. “I think you should stay and listen some more. It might grow on you.”

“Um, no,” Tommy says, “no, I think that’s a bad idea, actually. I don’t want to—is this some kind of cult? Are you a cult, BadBoyHalo? Is this Egg your cult leader? I think we should not listen to the Egg cult. This is weird. This is fucking weird. Tubbo, do you want to go? Let’s go.”

Tommy makes a motion. Wilbur can’t tell what. He’s looking at the Egg, and his vision is blurry. But he can see the way that Bad steps forward again, the way that Ant steps to the other side. Their netherite armor gleams. The message is clear: if they want to leave, they go through them, and Wilbur can barely think past the way his head is pounding, but this was a bad idea. This was so clearly a bad idea.

Was this Dream’s plan all along? Get them down here, get them into—whatever situation this is?

“Hold on just a minute,” Bad says. “I don’t think you’ve given the Egg a fair chance. The Egg wants what’s best for everyone, and that means you guys, too. How about you, Wilbur, do you like the Egg?”

He opens his mouth. No sound comes out. The room is swaying. The Egg is right there. He could touch it.

(static static static and beneath it there is)

Tommy is at his elbow, gripping his sleeve. “C’mon, big man, you feeling alright? You’re looking awfully pale.” A moment, and then, “Wilbur? Wilbur? Tubbo, something’s wrong with him. Come on, Wilbur, let’s go.”

“Do you hear the Egg, Wilbur?” Bad asks, soft and steady, and his voice slices through the fog.

Because he—

He—

(glowing and red and creeping and comforting and sickly and familiar)

He hears it.

A whisper, trailing just on the borderline of audibility. A whisper, rasping and knife-edged, and it feels like a hand, like a hand is reaching into his brain, touching his mind, dragging its fingertips on his thoughts, and he is shaking, and he can’t stop. It is a whisper, and he doesn’t understand the words, but their meaning filters through to him all the same.

It whispers to him of fire. He can hear it crackling. He can hear it burning. He can feel it on his flesh, eating him, eating up his skin and his sinews and his bones until he is ash, ash mingling with the ash of his city. He is on fire and the fire hurts and it is a beautiful pain, a pain to revel in, a pain that he has chosen, a pain that has him grinning even as his lips burn away and bare his teeth, bare his skull, a permanent smile, a smile that means he’s won. His fingers are clenched around the match, his fingers are caressing the button, his fingers are grasping the hilt of the sword as he forces Phil’s arm to drive it forward. But it doesn’t matter, because he is the fire and he is the ash, and he is eaten away and he eats everything else, a serpent consuming his own tail and screaming and laughing and choking all the while.

It whispers to him of fire. You could burn the world, it says, and dance in the ruins, dance on the flickering spark-soaked wind, and it will be of you, their destruction, because if you cannot have it then no one deserves it so why not grant them the wreckage their betrayals have wrought?

His blood sings with it, with the thrill of it, with the desperate, ugly longing for it, the beast that lives under his skin rising to the surface, and unlike the kraken it breathes and it lives and it howls.

“Wilbur?”

He comes back to himself, a bit, and finds that he is smiling in truth, his lips pulled back, his teeth on display.

“Wilbur?” Tommy says again. “Wilbur, we need to go.”

Tommy doesn’t understand. Tommy doesn’t hear it. Doesn’t hear the voice, doesn’t hear its promises, its wonderful, wonderful promises. But that’s alright. He will, in time, and until then, Wilbur can understand for the both of them.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” he tells him. “You’ll see. Can’t you hear it, Tommy? The world is on fire!”

He laughs, giddy. The room is spinning, and he with it, and his head throbs in time with his heart.

It whispers to him of a song.

A song, rife with drumbeats, thudding like the steps of a hundred armies, a million soldiers fighting and dying on the field. He was one of them, once, was Ares and led them all to blood. Blood, red and flowing, and what a lovely color it is. The blood is in the song, too, a plink plink plink of high staccato notes, a thrumming bass line that goes down in steps, a celebration

(no no no it’s a ground bass it’s a lament it’s a lament)

for the life spilling on the ground, for the life that is sacrificed, for the life that is fed to the cause, to the symphony, to the symphony! It understands his symphony, can sing in harmony with it! He’s gone so very long playing by himself, and yet here is something that knows the tune.

“No,” Tommy says, his voice shaking like a leaf on the breeze, “no, no, Wilbur, Wilbur, you’ve got to stop it, you’re scaring me, Wilbur, please—”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he replies, because he must make it clear, must make Tommy understand. “The symphony’s still there, Tommy, can’t you hear it? It’s kept on without me, but I’m here now. I can continue it how I want.” He widens his smile. “I can leave it how I want. I can leave it unfinished again. I can make sure that no one finishes it.”

Tubbo makes a noise, like a small scream. Tommy is silent.

“The Egg can do it, Tommy,” he says. “The Egg can do it. All you have to do is listen. Please, Tommy, for me, can’t you hear it?”

Finally, finally, he wrenches his gaze away from the Egg. Bad and Ant have moved closer, Tommy and Tubbo farther away. Tommy’s eyes are wide, and blue, and terrified.

(blue)

“No,” Tommy answers. “No, Wilbur, I can’t hear it. I don’t want to hear it.”

“We can fix that,” Bad offers, and Wilbur turns his smile on him. “All you have to do is stay down here for a little while. How does that sound?”

“It sounds bad! It sounds very, very bad!” Tommy erupts. “We’re not fucking staying down here, not when you’ve made Wilbur go all—” He gestures, and Wilbur doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say. He feels fine, feels real, feels exultant, and he’d thought such emotions lost to him, so shouldn’t Tommy be happy for him? “We’re leaving, and if you try to stop us, then I’ll—fuck, I’ll stab the fucking thing and crack it open, and you can be all weird and cultish over the yolk.” As he says it, he pulls out a sword of his own, netherite and shining with enchantments, waving it wildly in the Egg’s direction.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Tommy,” Bad says, and then looks to Ant. “We’ll remove the obstacle. Tubbo and Wilbur can stay here.”

That sounds like a good idea. He’ll stay here, and the Egg will give him everything it promised in exchange for his devotion. And Tubbo will learn, in time, to love it. It is unfortunate, about Tommy, but those who threaten the Egg must either be brought around or they must be disposed of,

(wait)

and Tommy is never inclined to listen after he’s gotten an idea in his head. He’s terribly stubborn like that. So if he’s decided to oppose the Egg, there’s only one thing left to do.

Wilbur draws his sword, and in unison with Bad and Ant, steps toward Tommy. Tubbo shouts a denial, fumbling for his own weapon, but Tommy just stands there, staring at him, a look on his face that

(is horror and betrayal and you promised to protect him promised you wouldn’t hurt him anymore so what are you doing)

does something strange to his stomach, and—

The Egg is calling for his death, calling for his blood. But this—

This is Tommy. His little brother. He’s striding toward his little brother with his sword in his hand, and this isn’t—

The Egg whispers. Wilbur hears it. And it

(is going to hurt Tommy)

is going to hurt Tommy. He sees it in his mind: Tommy’s limbs sprawled on the ground, Tommy’s eyes gazing up sightlessly, Tommy’s shirt wet with blood, Tommy dead and Tommy gone, and a wave of revulsion washes over him. Tubbo is moving forward, is moving to protect, but Ant engages him, and Bad is too close to Tommy, and Bad’s sword is raised, is poised to strike, and Tommy reacts too late and he’s not going to get his own sword up in time and the Egg is so loud and demanding and Wilbur can hear it but he doesn’t want—

He catches Bad’s blade on his own. Interposes himself between Bad and Tommy.

“Get the fuck away from him,” he growls.

Bad’s eyes widen.

“Don’t you want to protect the Egg?” he asks, and Wilbur reels, because a large part of him wants to say yes, wants to say that he will give the Egg anything and everything it wants. But the problem is that there is another part of him, now, a part that puts Tommy’s safety above all else, and that part of him is trembling and shaking and terrified, and the Egg doesn’t feel like a soothing whisper but instead like a snarl, and there are still fingers in his brain but he can recognize them for what they are, for what they’re doing, can recognize that they’re fucking with his thoughts, yanking them around like a marionette on a string, and—

“Get out of my head,” he cries out, and goes on the offensive, and Bad must be surprised, because he allows himself to be driven back. The Egg screams, and he screams, too, because it’s loud and his head hurts so bad and part of him wants desperately to follow its commands and he feels as though he’s being ripped in half.

(it’s in his head it’s in his head it’s a violation it’s scraping off his skin hollowing him out and putting itself inside and he doesn’t want it doesn’t want it he wants it out wants it out out out)

There is a clang, a clatter of armor, and Wilbur chances a glance back to see that Tubbo’s gotten one up on Ant, somehow, and he’s grabbed Tommy’s hand and then Tommy’s grabbing his, and they’re all running. And Bad lets them go, sprints over to Ant instead, and they’re going to get out, they’re going to get out—

The Egg whispers to him of rest.

(it’s in his head and it won’t leave and it’s like worms writhing under his skin but)

He digs his heels into the floor and turns back. Tommy is shouting something and Tubbo is shouting something and they’re both pulling on his hands, but he won’t let himself budge.

The Egg whispers to him of rest, tells him, If you will not take the fire, then why not take the dark, they will be safe and unharmed without you there to burn them and you can find your peace again, that comforting nothingness that allowed you to drift, and

(yes)

yes, he wants that, wants that so badly, because he was dragged back to life, dragged back into the world that cut him down to the quick, that formed all his sharp edges, and for Tommy’s sake, he can pretend, but he doesn’t want to be here. And the red of the Egg is comforting again, its glow soothing and warm, and All you have to do is give in, it says to him, all you have to do is let go and the peace is yours and who could blame you for taking it back when it was wrongfully wrested away from you?

“Come on, Wilbur!” Tommy is shouting.

“It’s offering me rest, Tommy,” he says, and his voice is agonized. “It’s offering—I want to rest, Tommy.”

“Wha—no!” Tommy says, and from the shock in his voice, the horror, Wilbur knows that he understands exactly what he means. “No rest! You—you fucking promised, Wilbur, you told me that you were glad to be here!”

(it’s in his head and it’s using his mouth but it’s only saying what he’s been hiding, has brought these thoughts to the surface, to the light)

“I lied,” he says. “Tommy, I want to rest. Please, let me go.”

(his father stands in front of him, his sword in his hand, and his eyes are bewildered and hurt and confused and terrified, and he knows that with the way he is, it will only take a push for him to get what he wants, only a push to provoke his father into a reaction, and he is so very selfish but he is far past caring, because the symphony is unfinished and he is ready to go he is ready to go)

He looks at Tommy. Tommy is crying.

“Fuck you,” Tommy snarls. “Fuck you, we’re leaving, we’re leaving right fucking now, Tubbo, help me—”

And they are pulling him back, pulling him back and away, but he is struggling, fighting them, because

(please let me go please let me go)

the red is so warm and so soothing and as long as it’s not asking him to hurt Tommy, it’s alright, really, and he wants this, he does, and all of his earlier thoughts about fingers and puppets have dissipated and he wants this, he’s sure that he does, and Tommy and Tubbo aren’t letting him, they aren’t letting him go. And Ant is on his feet again, and he and Bad are advancing, and if he can just get to them, they will help him, they will understand—

And then everything gets very confusing. Because there is another voice, suddenly, one he doesn’t recognize. More sounds of fighting, and he doesn’t know who is fighting who, because the world is fading away around him, and his vision is just red. And then he’s being manhandled, and he wants to keep struggling, but his limbs aren’t responding, and someone is carrying him up a ladder, and then he’s being set on the grass, and the nausea hits him hard and quick, and he’s retching, bile coming up, and he’s choking on it and he can’t get any air—

And there are flashes. More nausea. His head pounding, like someone’s tried to make a jigsaw puzzle out of his skull. Water, cool and refreshing, and the red subsides, but he hurts, hurts so very much.

Tommy’s voice, yelling. A glimpse of Tommy’s face. And then, Wilbur is out.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #badboyhalo #alivebur #/rp #cat writes fic #long post

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cthulhuliet · 4 years ago

Text

my high hopes (are getting low)

6.8k words [total 13k words] (part one) (part two) (part three) | AO3 Link | warnings: explict content, homophobia, dubious morality, completely unnecessary religious references, it is all smut so please proceed with that knowledge.

‘Cause my High hopes are getting low because these people are so old The way they think about it all If I tried I would never know

Light Yagami's world view is shifted after a conversation with his father concerning L's sexuality. He takes his plan into action.

Light looked at his watch and the other task force members. It was half past 10, much later than when they typically start work. Light was idly browsing the scanned names from the Death Note on the computer and had enough tabs open to make himself look busy. It doesn’t matter much anyway, he was not planning on getting any work done today. He was biding his time for one of the other members to notice.

“Hey, where is Ryuzaki?” Matsuda frowned, looking around the common area. This garnered everyone else’s attention as they looked around the room as well as at their watches.

“Good point, he is normally the first one down here,”

“Do you think he is still asleep?”

“Even if he actually slept last night he would never be napping for this long,”

Mogi tapped a couple buttons on the computer and footage from L’s room appeared on the large screen. The young detective was holded up in his room, laptop closed in front of him but eyes very much open, just crouching in his chair like he normally does.

Matusda frowned, “He is so weird…” He trailed off shaking his head.

Soichiro adjusted his glasses, looking at the footage in front of him, “We need Ryuzaki to give us the next steps for dealing with the Death Note. Let me call his room,” He dialed the numbers, looking at L, but the phone did not ring on the footage and he did not even move, “It went straight to voicemail…”

Aizawa frowned, “That is odd.”

Light frowned with mock concern and stood up from his chair, “I can go to his room and ask him what is going on,” The detectives all raised their eyebrows, “What? I am the only one who can actually get into the room either way,”

Aizawa and Soichiro looked at one another, the pair seemingly had a mental conversation with one another, but their expression loudly stated what they were thinking; it is as if they were shouting instead of silently nodding, “If that is ok with you, Light,”

“We’ll be watching the room,”

Predictable.

“I figured as much, Father,” Light pulled on the collar of his black turtleneck as he walked up the stairs towards the elevator. He pressed the button to L’s floor and leaned against the wall of the elevator, smirking to himself. He idly checked his watch, counting down the minutes.

Light knocked softly on the door as he opened it, meeting L’s gaze as he opened the door. L scratched the side of his nose as Light pulled off his shoes, the other man looking at him, mirroring the motion.

“Hey, Ryuzaki,” Light crossed the room. He cleared his throat before he attempted to speak again-- his voice somehow went an octave higher than his natural tone, “The task force is waiting for you downstairs. We tried calling the room but it went straight to voicemail,”

L sighed, opening his laptop. He silently tapped on the keyboard for a few moments before closing it. “I apologize, Light, I meant to send out an email today. I decided last night to get rid of the Note and had them shipped off to a secure location to be lab tested. After that, we can go ahead and test some of the rules written in there, but I had a theory about the use of the pages that I wanted some people to look at,”

This was bullshit and Light knew it. The book was with Watari and not being let out of his sight, but it is an easy enough explanation that the Task Force will at least buy it for the time being.

“Oh, ok, that is good news,” Light shifted his feet, standing closer to L’s chair, “So, why are you in here and not downstairs with everyone else?”

L sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I suppose I just wanted some time for myself. I have been a bit depressed recently,”

“Depressed?” Light chuckled artificially, “About what? We are closer than ever to piecing everything together. We have almost solved it,”

Pressing a thumb to his lips, L shook his head, “It just feels as though it will never end. Every time I think it is finished, there are 3 more questions that pop up, disproving my theories. It is frustrating to be so close and yet never reach the end,”

“I suppose it is more accurate to say you’re stressed rather than depressed,”

L shrugged his shoulders, “Why not both?”

Light smirked, taking a seat on the bed, leaning back casually on his palms, “Ryuzaki, have you ever relaxed at any point in your life?”

There was the trigger sentence, and this is where the show begins.

“Light,” L stood up from his chair and leaned against the chair at the opposite where he was sitting, “You know better than anyone the answer to that question,”

Grinning, Light looked up to a corner of the room where there was a camera blinking at him, “Are the cameras turned off?” He looked there and back at L. If he was nervous he didn’t show it, the detective looked as he normally did, but Light did not miss the slight smirk present on his face.

L shrugged, “Think so,” They were not, “Pretty sure Watari turned them off the second you walked in the room,” He did not, “He normally does,” Watari is in on it. Light pushed himself off the bed, slowly stepping closer to L until he was a mere few inches away, “Besides. The task force just got the email I sent them. No one is worried about us,”

Smiling, Light swiftly grabbed the small of his back and pulled L chest to chest with him, “No, they won’t be,” Light muttered quietly, but loudly enough for the mic to pick up on. He cradled the back of his neck and pressed soft open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin there. L’s breath hitched and his hands gravitated to Light’s back, fisting the fabric in his hands, “You are so clever, Ryuzaki,”

Grabbing L’s hand, he pulled him towards the large bed. He manhandled the wiry man until he was lying flat on his back, Light straddling his waist and hands on either side of his head.

Light looked in his eyes for signs of hesitation, or a signal to shut this down, but behind the smoky blackness all he could find was a mixture of enthusiasm and anticipation. Despite this, Light still stood over L, unmoving, as if he was frozen. It had only just now occurred to him that this is the first time that he was going to be acting on his attractions towards another person, the first time another person would see him vulnerable and at their will, the first time he would kiss someone and it would mean something, even if it was all just for the show.

“Well,” L leaned up, whispering in his ear, “What are you waiting for?” He punctuated it with a soft bite on his earlobe, and any of Light anxieties went out the door. Because for a moment, he forgot who he was sharing this part of himself with. The only man in his life-- maybe ever-- who could challenge him, keep him on his toes, excite him in any way. There was never anyone else. There was never any other way.

Light would never be able to tell you who closed the gap, but their kiss was messy. Teeth and tongue and wandering hands, quick and dirty, but with a warm feeling of coming home that neither of them had ever felt before. L tasted of frosting and chocolate and sugar cubes and all the things that Light hated, but the saccharine sweetness of it all was ok, because it all just tasted like L.

Wandering hands made their way up and under L’s shirt, Light running his perfectly trimmed nails down his sides. He couldn’t wait to take off the shirt to see the angry red marks that were created.

Light couldn’t help but make a teasing glance to the camera. A part of him wishes he could be downstairs, witnessing the task force’s reaction to the clean cut school boy defiling the number one detective in the world.

L broke this kiss, panting, but Light did not want to waste a second more and attached himself to his neck again. His hands moved up to softly graze over L’s nipples, causing a gasp and a stifled moan. Light looked up to see him biting his lip, eyes squeezed tight.

“How many times do I have to tell you this, Ryuzaki?” Light sat up, fiddling with the ends of L’s shirt, “Stop biting your lips,”

“Or what?” To which L made a point to wet his lips with his tongue, then biting down on his bottom one again.

Teasing bastard.

Light pressed his hands down in between L’s head, hovering over the other one, “You know what happens when you tease me,”

L smirked, “Oh no,” He then used Light’s weak points to his advantage, hooking a leg over his waist and grabbing on of his wrists, L quickly flipped their positions, the older man now straddling the other, pinning one arm over his head, “I am incredibly scared, Light,”

“That’s not fair,”

“Only because you’re losing,”

“This isn’t a game,”

L smirked, and used his free hand to pull down Light collar, he attached his tongue and teeth to his neck and sucked at the sensitive skin. “Only because you’re losing,” He muttered into his neck before continuing his attack. Light gasped and moaned under the touch, previously struggling under L’s hold, he now gave into it. L pulled his mouth off his throat, and he could just feel the bruise blossoming already.

“You are wearing far too many clothes, my dear,” L sat up, and pulled the turtleneck off of Light, and threw it across the room. He breathed out, staring at the others muscled figure and tanned skin. Slightly flustered, L ran a hand through his hair. He glanced at the camera and put his pinky finger on his ear and dragged it to his lips: a signal to Watari to actually turn off the cameras this time. As much as they wanted to mess with the task force, they both agreed beforehand they don’t want to have footage of their full encounter and, essentially, have their sex tape on file somewhere.

Neither of them stopped to think that it means they could end their little game. L could have gotten up and grabbed Light’s shirt, and waited for long enough to simply exit the room. The message couldn’t have been clearer, and it was all an act anyway.

Or maybe in the back of their minds they realised it was something more. That it wasn’t just an act. That when Light presented this plan-- this ludacris, unholy plan-- that they both agreed a little too quickly, and had a little too much fun with it.

Maybe L and Light realised, but what was another drop in the lake? What really was another line crossed in their morally ambiguous power play? The shades of grey had never burned brighter, and the desire to indulge in their dissolute sin clouded over their minds too thickly for any logic to shine through.

“Light…” L muttered, his hands trailing over his chest and neck, “You…”

“Yes?”

“You look… just heavenly,” L said, simply. Light’s breath hitched at the words and he swallowed down a groan, not wanting the other man to know how his words affected him. L’s mouth latched onto his nipple, softly wetting and licking it while slowly moving his hips against Light’s, feeling the younger man’s growing erection.

“It is no wonder you have such an ego,” L muttered, gently kissed his chest. He made his way up to his neck again, where he bit down hard, Light now moaning unabashedly, “If I looked as though I was sculpted from everything holy, I would believe I was a God as well,”

Light’s hands made his way under L’s shirt, running his fingernails down his back, “Ryuzaki, I-”

“L.”

“L?”

“Please, Light.” He ran his fingers down the side of Light’s face, locking their lips together once more, “Call me L,”

Light nodded, pulling at his shirt, “L, please,” He lifted it up to L’s chest, “I need more,”

L’s tutted, shaking his head, but pulled off his shirt regardless, “You are so impatient,”

Getting back to work, L pulled Light up by his shoulders, both of them now sitting up. He pushed his hips into the younger man, causing him to groan and dig his nails into L’s hips. L attached himself to the juncture of Light’s neck and shoulder, softly sucking more marks into his skin, as if the other man knew Light always dreamed of hiding a lovemark there under his high collared shirts.

L moved against Light at a painstakingly slow pace, the man under him slowly losing his mind at the ministrations. L pulled his mouth off of him and Light took this opportunity to return the favor given to him. He threaded his nimble fingers into L’s messy black hair, reaching for the roots and squeezed tight. L gasped before moaning, and Light was desperate to pull more sounds from the otherwise reserved man. He pressed his lips to L’s neck, biting and sucking, slowly becoming obsessed with the red and purple bruises appearing under the pale skin. It took more time for Light to create each mark than L, the younger of the two idly wondering about the detective’s previous history. That wandering question seemed to matter less and less as his inexperienced mouth was doing something right, L’s grinding and gasps getting more rapid, the pleasure he was experiencing was evident in every sense of the word.

Light was impatient, but L was too. He pressed his hand against Light’s chest, and pushed him back down onto the bed. The blinds from the window allowed sunlight to seep through the cracks in them. Light looked up at the man above him in wonderment and awe. L’s lips were swollen and his cheeks pink and flushed. He already looked thoroughly wrecked: his hair even more wild than normal and his neck and collarbones were blossoming various shades of red and purple. Light never considered himself a devout man, but with the light perfectly streamed into the room to hit L’s face, eyes tinkling, and with the knowledge that behind them held the most intelligent, calculating mind known to mortals, it is no wonder Light finally understood the need to revere a figure higher than yourself. In this moment, Light was not Kira, the bringer of divine justice and God of a new world, Light only wanted to worship L and be completely at his mercy.

L moved off of Light’s legs and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them off in one swift motion. He hooked his leg back over him and palmed Light through his underwear, Light whining loudly at the action. He was rock hard now and leaking precum through the fabric. He gripped the sheets underneath him, too turned on to be embarrassed about his actions.

L cocked his head to the side, “Light, I have to ask,” He moved his hand off of him and leaned closer to the other man’s face, “You concocted this plan, so it didn’t cross my mind to ask. But have you never…” L trailed off, and Light turned his gaze away from him.

“Have you ever, L?”

“That’s not what I asked, Light.”

Biting his lip, Light flushed, only now feeling self conscious. L ran his fingers softly down his cheek, “That is what I thought,” He looked softly into Light eyes, the typical coldness was replaced with warmth and care, “Don’t worry. I will make your first time as beautiful as you are,”

Beautiful…

L kissed Light softly. If their first kiss was all messiness and lust, this one held a certain gentleness and care that one would not expect from the complex, calculating detective and the greatest mass murderer in history. “You don’t have to treat me like glass now that you know,” Light muttered against his lips.

L smirked, kissing the man under him once more before responding, “I said beautiful, not merciful. I fully ended on both of us being thoroughly wrecked by the end of this,” Light groaned at L’s words, his low voice and balanced diction hit certain weak points that Light didn’t know he had. He moved off of Light once again, palming him firmly but tantalizingly slow. Light threw his head back, unabashedly moaning at the contact. L used his free hand to hook a finger under the underwear, his breath hitching in anticipation. They made eye contact and L simply smirked.

“L, stop teasing, I need more,”

L tutted, shaking his head, “And I need more from you than that,”

Light groaned, head clouded with lust, “L, I need more, I need more, give it to me, please ,”

“There we go,” L moved his hand off of Light cock, hooking his fingers under the fabric, “You are so pretty when you beg. I wish you would use your manners more,” Light groaned, and L began pulling, but jerked away and jumped at a frantic and harsh pounding on the door.

The two made worried eye contact followed by angry shouting coming from the door, “Light, you better open this door right this second before I blow it to pieces!”

“I thought he didn’t know what floor we were on,” Light said, looking at L.

He shrugged, “Your father is smarter than we often give him credit for,”

Another loud bang against the wood, followed by more angry shouting, “ Light! I demand an explanation this instant. Your father is telling you to come to the door now, ”

“He’s going to kill me if I answer that door, Ryuzaki,” Light set his jaw, a familiar bubbling rage was boiling in his blood, “What do we do?”

L, who was mostly unbothered the entire time, shrugged, “Don’t worry, it is being taken care of,” The knocks on the door continued for a few seconds longer before abruptly stopping without hesitation or a second word, “Watari and I planned for this.”

Light looked up at the man straddling him, and raised an eyebrow, “What exactly did you do to him?”

“Does it really matter?” Raising an eyebrow, Light crossed his arms. L sighed, “Just a mild sedative. When an unauthorized user attempted to enter the room more than once, there is a moderate shock that knocks you out for a few hours,”

Light ran a hand through his hair, “So my Dad is just, unconscious lying right outside the room?”

“I am sure Watari took him to one of the surrounding rooms, he is a lot stronger than he looks,” L shrugged, idly running his hands up and down Light’s figure, “We can stop if you want,”

Light knew he was playing a dangerous game, and they didn’t need to continue. He knew that even being in the same bed with the man who wanted to put him on death row was crossing every careful boundary his clever mind had built up. But the feeling of L’s soft, chilly hands trailing over his skin was addictive in a way that made his skin feel as though it were burning up. Light didn’t know how he never saw how gorgeous the man above him was before.

“I apologize for the interruption. I am going to continue, unless you tell me otherwise,” L answered for him and locked his lips on the other man’s nipple, grazing it with his teeth slightly before sucking on the bud and licking it with his tongue. Light’s hand found their way up into L’s hair, gently stroking it. He reached out for L’s slack hand, and placed his on top of the detective’s. L hummed, peppering kisses across Light’s toned chest; the very act of their hands on top of one another felt more intimate than anything they had done today.

L gently squeezed his hand before pulling away, fiercely gripping Light’s hips as he sucked a purple mark into the bone. This time, without being interrupted, he pulled down Light’s underwear, throwing it casually across the room.

Light groaned as the cool air hit his exposed cock. L, being the tease he was, gently traced his index nail up and down the inside of Light’s spread legs. His eyes were wide looking at him, now completely naked, and L subconsciously brought his thumb up to his lips, chewing on the nail.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Light tried to sound annoyed but his voice came off as whiny and needy.

L looked unfazed (as unfazed as one can with eyes the size of the moon), still drawing his nail up and down his legs, pointedly ignoring the area that Light really wanted L to give attention to, “I have been to museums before, I know you are not supposed to touch the art,”

Light did his best not to whine at the praise, biting his lip and deeply inhaling. But his body seemed to have other ideas as goosebumps covered his skin and his cock twitched at L’s words.

This time, L reacted and smirked, gently tracing his fingertips over Light’s cock, causing him to whimper, “I should have known,” He stated simply, teasing the tip of his cock with his thumb, smearing pre-cum over the head, “Sheltered genius with a God complex? Of course you are going to have a praise kink,”

“Hey, I- Ah!” Light’s protests were cut off swiftly with a loud moan, L’s diving down and taking the whole of Light’s cock in his mouth with no warning. Light’s groaned, throwing his head back against the pillows, gaping like a fish out of water. He grabbed L’s hair with purpose, tightly fisting the black waves in his hands. L expert hands pumped Light’s cock as he focused on his head, using his tongue in a sinful way that made Light see stars.

“God, L, don’t stop, please,” Light begged, gripping L’s hair with a little more force than necessary. The detective groaned, the vibrations from his throat made Light’s eyes water, feeling so overwhelmed by having someone touch him for the first time. He thanked his lucky stars that he never had a fumbling teenage experience complete with awkwardness and ruined orgasms, but being able to have an older, more experienced man give him the attention he deserves.

Gripping his hair, Light held L in place as he slowly moved his hips into his mouth, exercising an incredible amount of self control, as he just wanted to fuck his tight mouth until he finished-- though another real part of him never wanted this experience to end.

L’s brow was furrowed in concentration as Light sped up his movements, a blush spread across his pale cheeks that mirrored the ones on Light’s flushed face. Spit and precum dribbled out of L’s mouth and onto Light’s thighs. The mess he would typically despise, but looking at L’s thoroughly wrecked expression, he could only describe his viewing experience as divine.

Fighting against the hold on his hair, L came up for breath, stroking Light’s cock at a slower speed. Before Light could ask for a reason or wonder if he had hurt the other man-- “Light, slow down, you want to fuck me at least, right?”

His low voice was gravely and breathless, the statement ringing in his ears like noon on a Sunday. L wasn’t telling him what he wanted, he was instead stating what Light wanted. Of course he wanted to fuck him. He wanted nothing more than to see L’s guard broken down to pieces; to bear hold and witness to the number one detective in the world, panting and moaning in his lap as he can only think about Light’s hands and skin all around him.

“What do you want?” Light asked, hands tracing over the inside of L’s thighs, running his well-manicured nails over the roughness of his jeans. L’s eyes were wide as he met Light’s amber gaze, “Whatever you want, L, I want to give it to you,”

“And what if I wanted you?”

Light sat up, holding himself up with his forearms, “You have already had that for so long,”

L pulled Light in for another kiss, just as bruising but layered with an understanding that neither of them quite knew how to place. L broke the kiss, gasping, “Fuck, I missed you,”

Light hummed, “Disappointed you have to be away from me for a few hours everyday, now?”

Shaking his head, L ran a thumb over Light’s bottom lip, “Don’t go and play stupid now, we both know that is not what I meant,”

It had only been a few days since Light regained his memories, and so much had changed. He felt different, and not just because he was planning the murder of the man who is currently peeling off his own jeans in preparation to take his virginity. Without them, when he was just trying to catch Kira, he felt as though he was missing purpose. Light had the drive to catch Kira, but there was always something missing. No wonder L never fell for his act. He could sense the shift in his behavior. He was Kira again, and he felt alive. And L missed him, the real him. Not just the Light with the good grades and normal people quirks, the Light who everyone hated or worshiped, who’s morals blurred between what is right and what is not. L didn’t want the morally right honors student, he wanted a challenge, he wanted Kira.

A wanton moan pulled Light out of his own head. He looked up and saw L lewdly stretching himself out in front of Light, already 2 fingers deep. Where he got the lube, he would never be sure, but Light’s mouth went dry at the erotic sight.

He moved forward on the bed, settling between L’s legs. He leaned forward to kiss him, and slowly moved L’s hand, replacing his fingers with his own. L moans were muffled by Light’s tongue in his mouth.

Despite not having much experience with this kind of thing, Light was a quick learner, and the continual motions didn’t leave for much variety. He seemed to be doing something right, as L was gasping and whining, sweat-beaded forehead resting on Light’s collarbone. He put more lube on his fingers and slowly inserted 3 fingers, L’s gasping and writhing on his lap.

“Light, try curling your fingers in and up,” L instructed, now using one of his free hands to slowly tease his own cock.

His hand was far beyond aching by that point, but he barely noticed as his senses were being completely overwhelmed by L. The small breaths on his collarbone and how he is softly rubbing the skin above his hipbone with his thumb, it was sensory overload in the best way.

“In and up,” Light repeated.

“Yes, you are doing great, Light, you are so good, so good, oh fuck, ” L moaned louder than he had ever even heard the man speak, and his hand moved off of Light’s hip to his shoulder, needing to steady himself.

“Found it,” Light muttered, now aiming for L’s prostate with every motion. The older man quieted his moans by biting and sucking on Light’s collarbones and neck. Light’s movements became sloppy as the sensitive skin got more attention from L’s expert mouth. Light slowed his movements down, just barely grazing over the prostate, before quickly speeding up his fingers, hitting the spot over and over and over again.

L choked out a sob, and if it weren’t for the subsequent whines that followed he would have been worried he hurt him in someway, “Fuck, you really are good with your hands, Light,”

Light smirked to himself, “Can you believe I was never more popular with the girls?”

“Maybe they all knew,”

“Maybe,”

He pulled L in for another kiss, the man barely being able to concentrate, “Fuck, Light, your hands are just perfect, you’re incredible, God, you really do deserve your massive fucking ego,”

Light groaned at the praise but chuckled as well, “Why is everything you say a slight against me?”

L raised an eyebrow, “Do you not want it to be?” He grabbed Light’s wrist, stilling his motions, and pressed his chest firmly with his hands so he was lying down on his back, “What do you want me to say, Light? Do you want me to tell you how good of a job you’re doing? How you are being such a good boy, treating me so nicely for your first time?” Light bit his lip and shut his eyes. L’s words were hitting him like a freight train, poking and prodding at every one of his weak points, “No, not that. You want to hear that I think you are gorgeous, don’t you?” Eyes widening, Light looked up and L who was smiling. He had him in the palm of his hand, “I am so lucky to be with you. The fact that I get to be with some so beautiful, so smart, so godly... ” He slicked Light’s cock up, slowly stroking him, but the assault of L’s words was so torturous and so painfully good, “I don’t see myself ever wanting to worship anyone other than you, Light Yagami. I don’t believe in absolutes, but I still hope I have damned myself to an entirety of praising you,”

“L…”

L hovered over him, teasing the tip of his cock with his slick entrance, “And I am lucky-- Light I am so fucking lucky-- that I get to be the one to share this with you,” He snuck down lower onto his cock, almost fully seated. Light had tears in his eyes, so overwhelmed with pleasure and praise, he was going to fall apart, “I am so lucky to also be able to devote a part of myself to you too,”

Holding onto Light’s shoulder’s, L began to move slowly, savoring the feeling. Light’s hands made their way their way to his hips, as he sat up. L, however, wasted no time to push him back down, pinning his hands above his head. He gave him a brief kiss before moving to assault his neck, biting and kissing more tender bruises on his skin. Light bit down on his lip, his vision blurring and all the air left his lungs and L continued to ride him.

Light had dreamt of floating before, walking high above everyone else. Enacting justice, using the Death Note, being a divine figure in a new age. If being Kira was floating, then L’s lips on his, his praises dripping over him like nectar, hands all over him, being L’s … There is no other way to describe that then flying. He was high above cloud 9, his stomach turning over from excitement and fear and pleasure. It was all too much and not enough, but Light knew that he never wanted to be rid of this feeling ever again.

“More, L, I need more, fuck you’re so tight, please...” Light pushed against the restraints of L’s hands, and L relented. He lifted himself off of the bed and steady his hands once again on L’s hips. Gripping them tightly, he began fucking into him, slowly but noticeably picking up the pace with every thrust. L whined, the sound coming from him was broken and thoroughly wrecked. He shoved two fingers in his mouth, stifling the noises coming from him to low moans. Light’s eyes flashed red and he grabbed his wrist, tearing the fingers from his mouth, “No. Fuck you. You’re gonna make me hear you, got it?”

L’s eyes flashed with an emotion Light could not place, before smirking playful, “Light sure is demanding,” He looked down at his wrist, a tight lock had been placed on it by Light’s strong hands, “And rough. Hmm… Your Kira percentage has gone up by 5%,”

They knew. They both knew. And unless L was privy to mathematical impossibilities when calculating the likelihood of mass murderers, L was merely saying this to get a rise out of him. And a rise out of him he will.

In a blur of fury and an impressive display of strength, Light lifted L off of his lap and onto his back. Without warning, Light pushed his cock into L’s tight hole, ramming into him roughly, “Oh, has it now, Detective?” Light taunted. He copied L’s same motion from earlier, pressing his wrist’s against the bed and biting L’s neck. “Tell me, do you make a habit of getting fucked by your top murder suspects in a case?”

“I- Fuck … Light…” L bit his lip. Light growled at the action, and used his thumb to pull the lips from his teeth, and shoved his tongue into L’s mouth, wanting to taste the sweetness of him once again.

“Is that why you’re the number one detective in the world, L? Sorry, top 3 detectives in the world. Just let your criminals rail you until you get a confession out of them?”

L shook his head, “No, of course not, y-you’re the exception,”

“Oh, I am the exception?” Light ran his hands through L’s black hair, the man panting heavily at the tantalizingly slow thrusts as well as the indecencies dripping from Light’s mouth, “Or maybe you just like the idea of being at the mercy of Kira , huh?” L eyes widened and he moaned softly, closing his eyes. If praise was Light’s undoing, then degradation was going to be L’s, “That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Light bit his lip, a wicked smile growing on his lips. He sped up his thrusts and teased the tip of L’s cock with his thumb, “I am starting to think that your notions of me being Kira are just wishful thinking. You like the idea of submitting to Kira? Being at his will?” L began babbling incoherently, begging mixed with whines and submissive moans that he did not think was possible from the stoic detective (the same one who held Light in the palm of his hand not a few minutes ago). And when Light’s keen ears picked up “Kira” being among the pleas, something primal in him snapped. He drove his cock as far as he could push it into L’s, stroking his cock and teasing his head, “God, you act like you’re above everyone else, but you’re just like everyone else who worships Kira. Only exception is, I may just revere you back,”

“Light, God, please, don’t stop, please,” Light was sure if he meant to call him God or not, but that small amount of praise went straight to his cock. L was raking his fingernails over his own figure, tiny spasms going throughout his body, he was obviously close and Light was not too far behind.

“I bet he fucking turns you on. Kira. The only mind to match yours, engaging in your cat-and-mouse game, never wanting it to end. Not even caring that he is a mass murderer. No wonder you want me to be him so badly.”

L dragged his nail’s down Light’s back “Please, please, Kira,”

“Don’t mind violating some human rights for Kira’s cock, do you? No, the rules never applied to us did they,” He punctuated his words with two harsh thrusts, making L see stars, “You may have my virginity, but I still have the bigger body count,”

Snapping his hips into L, he groaned and could barely keep himself upright. He was exhausted, his muscles sore, but he was so, so close. Light whined, and grunted, L moaned as Light’s strokes matched his thrusts.

“Fuck, I am so close, Kira,” L sat himself up, and Light adjusted the angle of his trusts, He grabbed a fistful of perfect brown hair and pulled Light in for a bruising kiss. He grabbed his free hand with Light’s lacing their fingers, squeezing almost painfully hard.

Light noticed there were pinpricks of tears in his eyes as they made eye contact. L pressed their foreheads together as his breath became even more ragged and unstable.

“Say my name,”

“What?”

Light gripped his hand even tighter, “When you come, say my name, please, I want to hear it, please,”

L grabbed the back of Light’s neck, gasping and shouting, “Light, Light, Light, fuck, Light,” L gasped and repeated his name like a prayer as he came onto his stomach and Light’s hand. “Don’t stop fucking me Light, I want you to finish,” L told him.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Fuck, L,” L gently pressed a hand to his chest, causing Light to pause his motions briefly. L climbed into his lap, and met his quick thrusts with ease.

“Finish inside me, give me everything you got,”

“L,” The man rode him with everything that he had. Light felt as though he had died and gone to heaven.

“C’mon Light, you are doing so well, so good.” He pulled Light’s hair, gripping his waves tightly. “You’re being such a good boy, making me feel so good,”

“L,”

L muttered into his ear, nipping it slightly, “Everything you do is perfect, just like you,” and Light was a goner. Vision blurring, he came with a cry of L’s name, running his nails down L’s back.

Both of their chests were pounding, their sweaty foreheads pressed against one another. Light looked into L’s eyes, amber meeting smoky grey, and lifted a hand to his cheek, tenderly kissing the man. The kiss was chaste, and quick, but it wasn’t about that. They kissed because they wanted to, both of them.

L pulled himself off of Light, going to the bathroom to wipe both of them down with a damp towel.

“We should shower,” Light suggested, turning to L, one armed draped over him.

“Shower?”

“Yeah,”

“That seems reasonable,” He nodded, though neither of them made an effort to move.

Light traced L’s soft skin with the back of his fingers, moving over his swollen lips with his thumb, “You know I think you’re beautiful too, right?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I just forgot to say it,”

“Too busy calling me a Kira slut, huh?”

“Yeah,” Light laughed weakly at the joke, but there was something else looming in the air between them. A giant question mark hanging between them. They could continue their stalemate forever, but there will always be the other shoe waiting to drop.

“So, the Kira case is almost wrapped up,” L said, after a few minutes of silence, “I have a couple things lined up after this,”

Light nodded tightly, “Do you?”

“Yeah,” L brought his thumb up to his lips, “I have been sitting on this for a while but… I was wonder if you would like to join me,”

Light’s heart stopped at the words, “Join you? And do what?”

L shrugged the best he could, lying face to face with Light on the bed, “Join me. Solve cases. You are free to turn me down,”

Frowning, Light sat up, “Why are you offering? I thought you were perfectly fine being by yourself,”

L joined him sitting on the bed, and faced towards him, “Well, for one, I never really was alone. Watari goes where I go. Two, I thought I would invite because you have, well, kind of burned all your bridges here,” L and Light looked at the door and Soichiro's voice echoed angrily in his head, “Also I figured that we would make a good team. Your deductive skills and critical thinking are far beyond detectives that are double your age. Besides, you have certain… Qualities that I do not have that you could bring to the table, making you an invaluable asset,”

Light’s eyes widened at the implications of what L was suggesting. He searched for signs in L’s expression that this was a trick, another card he pulled just to get him behind bars. But in his eyes, all he found was genuine fondness.

“Can I have some time to think?” Light responded, scratching the side of his arm.

“Of course,” L took his hand in his, “But my offer won’t last forever,”

Light hummed, pressed his forehead against L’s, moving his hands to hold his waist. There were so many issues that needed to be resolved. The Kira case, the wrath of his father and the other task force members, not knowing if this offer was real or just another trick… His high hopes were a bit low. But for now, it is better for Light just to hold L, and keep him pacified.

#lawlight #death note #l lawliet #light yagami #death note fanfiction #dn #my writing #damn I am so nervous to post this #y'all have no idea #ahahahahahaa

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