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spacequokka · 2 years

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RM1506: Production Mgmt

Pairing: professor!Jooheon x student!Reader Genre: College AU, Smut Rating: M Summary: “I’ve been trying to figure out how to get you alone for weeks. You’re always with your friends, always where someone might see. But not today. Not this time.” Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: I have no shame, dirty talk (my signature at this point), spanking, pet name, unquenchable thirst, unprotected sex, creampie

This is my second entry for The Faculty, a Monsta X professor au series with @iibonniee who also made this gorgeous banner. If you like this series, please fill her inbox with love! I recommend Dangerous Woman for reading.

Taglist: @appachicken @dandelion-aj

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Lee Jooheon was the kind of man who inspired people. Whether it was to graduate, create the best web series, or figure out a way to climb his tall ass, he was simply inspirational. You’d been trying to figure out how to do that last one for three years now. When you first saw him freshman year, you were done for. Sure, he was a teacher, and you weren’t in any of his classes. But your friends were, and you admittedly abused that. Over the years, Professor Lee came to know you as “that brat” sneaking into his lectures with her friends. The one who’d pout but was at least obedient when asked to leave. You liked to believe that since he hadn’t reported you, he somewhat tolerated your shenanigans.

He never complained about the way you often watched him walk by in the hallways or how you’d wink when you caught him watching you. You didn’t want to assume the attraction was mutual, though. It was entirely possible he was brainstorming ways to dump your body in the woods without getting caught. Didn’t mean you couldn’t keep dreaming and wishing for a miracle.

Classes for the day had long since ended. You’d just finished with a small errand for a different Professor Lee when you heard something…off. Something that you don’t usually hear in an academic setting. Muffled moans. You looked around and confirmed the hall was empty. The math building tended to empty out fast after the evening classes. Was someone ducked off somewhere watching porn? Why the fuck would someone want to watch porn in the math building? The music building was a million times better. Soundproof with more space between classrooms.

Curse you for being nosy.

You weren’t in a rush to go to your dorm room, so you figured you might as well see what was up. Channeling your best Black Widow stealth mode, you tiptoed down the hall, listening intently as the sounds got louder. Someone was about to get a heart attack.

The volume of the moans varied, but you found the door. Room 1526. You held your breath as you listened. Heavy breathing mixed with gasps and whines. Damn, someone was really getting it. Then the oddest thing happened. Screeches of metal across the floor. You heard it all the time when classes ended from people getting up from their desks. The flooring in the buildings wasn’t the best, and the heavy desks made it known. So then…this wasn’t a video. Someone was actually fucking in the Calculus classroom.

Oh, shi—

A large hand covered your mouth, and you were hauled back off your feet. You squealed and flailed, doing everything you could think of to throw the strong motherfucker off. You got in a few jabs with your elbow before you heard “Ow! Will you calm down?”

You knew that anime protagonist voice anywhere. “Professor Joo?” You asked, though your voice was muffled, and stopped swinging.

A door opened and then you were in a dimly lit closet with your back pressed up against a wall. “Ah, fuck. My ribs.” Judging by the scented powder wafting off him, you confirmed it was the Object of your Obsessive Horniness, the Production Management professor. And you’d hurt him. Well, shit.

“I’m so sorry—” You started, but he cut you off with a finger to your lips.

Somewhere nearby a door, presumably the porn room, opened followed by faint whispers. You weren’t dumb. You knew he was very close with Professor Im and it was clear as fuck he was trying to protect his friend as much as he could. Sweet, really, but you had zero interest in whoever was getting fucked in that classroom when you had him pressed up against you like this. While he focused on the hallway, you let the situation sink in. Dark small space with Professor Dimples close enough to taste. You shifted against him, maneuvering so that his thigh slotted neatly between your legs to keep his balance.

“He’s taking forever,” he hissed. Agreed, but you weren’t complaining. You settled your hands on his hips, savoring the feel of his slacks under your fingertips. He didn’t react to your touch, so you explored a little more. His shirt was tucked into his pants, but you wanted to feel his skin. The second he felt you tugging on his shirt, he stiffened and turned his head so that his cheek was against yours. “Now isn’t the time, _____.”

Your face scrunched up with a smile. “You know my name?”

“I know a lot more than just your name.” His free hand moved to your hip as he continued to whisper in your ear. “I know you’re a music major with a talent for recording. That you’d like to work with me at least once before you graduate. You’re actually an excellent student when I’m not involved. Kihyun has nothing but good things to say about you. But,” he took a deep breath and released it on a shudder when you worked the shirt free, “you’re so fucking dense.”

“Hey!” You started to protest, but he covered your mouth with his hand.

“Quiet,” he begged with a slight whine. He stopped to listen again and when the silence continued beyond your little bubble, he took his hand away. “How else do you explain being hellbent on fucking me without realizing how I feel?”

You blinked at the shadowy outline of his face. “Um, what now?”

He pressed closer, bracing himself on one arm on the wall near your head. “I’ve never had anyone so determined to get with me. And be so vocal about it, too. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You don’t care who hears you whine about me not dicking you down.” He chuckled. “Even the Dean’s making fun of how bad you got it for me.”

“That’s…unfortunate. If I make you uncomfortable, you know you only have to say so.” You removed your hands and held them up. “You never said anything—”

“Oh, sweetness. That’s because I love it.” He squeezed your hip and pulled you against him as he pressed his thigh up against your core. You gasped as the sudden contact sent a jolt through you that left you chest to chest with him, hands holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to get you alone for weeks. You’re always with your friends, always where someone might see. But not today. Not this time.” His fingertips brushed along your jaw, then you felt his lips graze yours. “You haven’t even figured out we go to the same club every Saturday.”

You stopped chasing his lips. “What?”

“What?” He mimicked, sounding more like a parrot than a human. “Yeah, we do. You make me watch you get drunk and practically fuck whoever dances with you right there on the floor. But I gotta know something. Why don’t you ever take anyone home?” He spoke the words against your lips as his hands traveled down your body to the back pockets of your jeans where he slipped his fingers in. “Hm? Knowing you’re so eager to get fucked and cum, why don’t you let someone give you the release you crave?”

“Because they’re not you.” No need to even hesitate. “Why would I settle for subpar sex when I can do an excellent job with my vibrator and memories of the way you bite your lip when you’re waiting for me to leave your class? I may seem desperate, but really I’m just you-sexual. Joosexual, if you will. I want more than just sex. I want the experience.”

His answer was a deep, throaty moan that bordered on a growl. “Fuck, _____. Can I have you? Can I give you what you’re dying for?”

“Please.” You moaned, pressing down on his thigh with a needy cry. He pulled his hands out of your pockets and grabbed your ass with both hands, encouraging you to rut against him while pressing kisses to your jaw.

“Do you dream about doing this? Because I do.” He caught your earlobe with his lips and nipped it. “I’ve always wanted to feel your pussy on my thigh through these ass-hugging jeans you’re so fond of. Who do you wear them for, sweetness? Who do you want fantasizing about this,” he smacked the side of your thigh, “juicy ass?”

You bit your lip. “No one but you. I like making you look at me. Makes me feel sexy.”

“Does it now. C’mere.” His lips captured yours in a kiss that made you both go up in flames, making every contact of skin leave searing heat in its wake. It was all-consuming, stealing your breath and pride, leaving you gasping for air by the time he let you go.

“Turn around,” he ordered as he backed away.

“But I want you down my throat.” You resisted his insistent hands trying to turn you around with a pout.

“Next time, sweetness. I promise. Not here though.” You gave in only because of the reassurance there’d be more to come. See? You weren’t always a brat. “Good girl.” He pulled you against his chest and got to work unbuttoning your jeans and working them down your legs, along with your panties. He grabbed your hips and gently pressed into your back with his thumbs as he angled you towards the wall. “Hands up.”

The second you were in the desired position, one of his hands disappeared for a few seconds as messy slurping filled the room. You shivered in anticipation and were rewarded with his wet fingers gliding through your lower lips. “Oh, god.”

“Mmm, no sweetness. I wanna hear my name.” He smacked your ass. “Lemme hear you say it.”

You were losing your shit. He could ask for the moon and you’d scramble to figure out a way to get it for him. “Jooheon.”

“Mm, yeah.” He rewarded you with a finger, stroking your wet walls. “Music to my ears.”

“Please, Jooheon.” You trembled, just barely able to keep standing. “Fuck me already. Fill me up.”

“Can’t say no when you look so sexy for me.” His hands left your body, followed by the clink of his belt and his pants unzipping. “Where’s the condom you keep on you?”

Your jaw dropped. “How’d you—”

“I told you already. You don’t care who hears you talk about me.” He groaned when his dick brushed against the curve of your ass. “Shit. Give it to me or I’m going in raw.”

“Ooh, fuck. Are you serious? Because I’m on the pill and I swear I’m clean—” Your mouth clamped shut when the fat head of his cock pressed against your entrance. You pushed back on him and your pussy sucked him right in, making you both moan.

He buried his face in your neck as he covered your mouth with his hand. “Oh, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. So tight. Ah.” He wrapped his other arm around your waist and held you steady. You still had six more inches to take. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

You heard him, but just barely. Your sanity was slipping away as he continued to push inside, moaning softly in your ear each time you clenched and made it harder for him to ease inside. You’d heard stories of people cumming just from putting it in, but always dismissed it as an exaggeration. They must have had insane sexual tension and months of celibacy because it felt like a possibility right there in Jooheon’s arms. You reached back with both hands and palmed his thighs before squeezing them. You’d waited long enough for him to ruin you.

With a steadying breath, you thrust back on him, forcing the rest of his dick in. He shivered and held you tightly as he pressed kisses to the side of your neck. “G-gimme a second, sweetness. I can feel your fucking heartbeat on my dick. That’s so fucking hot. Like a hummingbird.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Only he could still manage to be cute while stuffing you with his cock. You granted him a chance to adjust and calm down as you enjoyed the way his hands caressed you from your breasts down to your thighs and back. Up and down, over and over, as his dick gradually stopped twitching. When he wrapped his arms around you again, you decided you’d waited long enough. You reached back and held his neck with one hand as you pulled your hips away.

“No. What are you—” The words died in his throat when you tugged on his leg while pushing back on his dick, creating a single clap of skin. He didn’t protest when you immediately pulled away to do it again, determined to fuck yourself if you had to. Jooheon straightened up and grabbed your hips. “Knew you wouldn’t let me just enjoy the feel of this delicious pussy wrapped around my dick for long.” He snapped his hips, forcing you to brace yourself on the wall. “So eager and needy. Always tempting me.” His hand cupped the front of your throat but didn’t apply any pressure. “Now I can finally fuck you stupid.”

Each thrust left you speechless as he went deeper than anyone you’ve had before, stretching you as he circled his hips, searching for that spot. It was pointless to try to keep it down when he eventually brushed against it and left you crying out.

“There we go.” He moaned as you got tighter. “Come here, sweetness.” He bent over and molded his body against your back as he fucked into you harder, faster. “Touch yourself for me. Be my DJ.”

He guided your hand down to your pussy and pressed your fingers against your clit. Each swirl of your finger around your clit brought you closer to orgasm as he pounded away. “I’m, I’m almost there.”

“I can feel it.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as he jack hammered into you. “I am too. I am—ah, fuck—right there. So close. So close.” You held onto his arm and met his thrusts, throwing it back so hard his hips stuttered. He came first with a low whine as his strokes slowed down but were longer. Being held tightly while feeling his dick twitch deep inside you was nirvana. His lips brushed the shell of your ear and he said, “Cum for me, sweetness.”

Euphoria washed over you from your head to your toes as you fulfilled your ultimate fantasy: creaming on Professor Lee’s fat dick. Knowing it was him, that you’d finally gotten a taste of him, left you light-headed as your legs threatened to give out on you. You didn’t realize you were chanting his name in between strings of gibberish as he pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“Shit, _____.” He gave you a little squeeze. “The best I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, breathless and beyond satisfied with how your body buzzed. “You don’t have to keep up the act. I’m sure Professor Im is long gone. I won’t tell anyone what I heard.”

“Hm?” He sighed blissfully, then shook his head. “What act? I couldn’t fake a nut that good even with years of drama classes.”

“You knew someone was fucking in his class, right? That’s why you pulled me into the closet.” You tried to look at him over your shoulder. “Wasn’t this just to distract me?”

Your eyes met as his widened. “I didn’t hear anything. I had Minhyuk send you on an errand after his class so I could get you away from your little friends.” His eyes darted all over your face. “I was telling you to be quiet so we wouldn’t get caught.”

Oh.

Ohhhh.

“Either way, he should be gone by now.” Jooheon smiled before planting a kiss on your lips. “You hungry? We can grab dinner on the way back to my place.”

“Really?”

“Of course. When I said next time, I meant it. Today.”

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#ksmutclub #kvanity #mxnetwork #monsta x smut #jooheon smut #joohoney smut #jooheon x reader #jooheon x you #joohoney x reader #joohoney x you #monsta x professor au #monsta x teacher au #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #i bring you more sin #jooheon imagines #jooheon scenarios #joohoney scenarios #joohoney imagines

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purgeturbia · 8 months

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i've been working on something for... quite a while. i'm not ready to share the whole thing yet (read: it's not even close to being finished), but this part of it, while mostly unedited, can stand pretty well on its own, so have a little bit of smitten obi-wan. as a treat.

*eta bc i forgot the first time: ~2k, canon-typical mentions of death but nothing graphic, mostly fluff

the rest of the work is not like this.

XXXVII. START WARS AND BURN CITIES

When he and Cody and the 212th had liberated planets from the Separatists — although he muses, now, that they had not done much liberating at all, if the end result was the desolate fear-space the galaxy has become — there had often been more time spent cleaning up the aftermath of their battles than there had been actually fighting. The machine of war was not a tidy one, and Obi-Wan hated to leave innocent people in a worse state than he had found them.

Often, during these pseudo-recovery times, he was excluded from the physical labor. Cody tended to push Obi-Wan off into the command tent to fill out the hundreds of forms that came with successful completion of a campaign, saying, “There are thousands of vod’e, sir, and only one of you,” but Obi-Wan saw it for what it really was — a chance (an order) to rest “for once in your kriffing life, General.”

Obi-Wan, after the first few campaigns, never argued. Crash would be on his ass for trying to help with cleanup anyway, and he did so despise being hauled to the medbay.

Though his stack of requisition forms and reports to write and casualty lists was always far larger than he cared to admit, Obi-Wan was, despite his field ban, never one to sit idle in command after a battle. He would, instead, crank out as much flimsiwork as he could before his body began to ache with the stillness of it all, and then he would mingle with the troops. The shinies, especially, were emboldened by his presence among them. They were so young, even the veteran troopers, and anything he could do to ease the pain of a life defined by war was an obligation, even if it was just a kind word here or there.

He was never content with the mental state of his men. Even after a decisive victory, or a battle with minimal casualties, or a skirmish with none at all, there was a sharp edge to their presences in the Force. Their hands shook ever so slightly and their smiles were never quite genuine and their eyes were constantly moving, observing, calculating.

The war lived inside all of them, himself included. The thing was, though, that Obi-Wan had had those few glorious years, before Qui-Gon and Bandomeer and Melida/Daan and the rest of his life that had come crashing down around him and never stopped, where there was no war in his bones.

His troops had been born with the war in them, and that was a pain he could not take away.

Even so, he would move through the camp like a fish through water, dropping hands to pauldrons and calling greetings across the expanse of tents. He would bring rations and fill canteens, and linger around medical looking for tasks until Crash told him to stop lurking and go bother somebody who would appreciate it. He’d always wiggled his eyebrows afterward, though, and told Obi-Wan very dramatically where Cody had gotten off to, so it was easy to see that he was never truly upset. Obi-Wan, in return, would blush about sixteen shades of red and very pointedly stalk off in the opposite direction of wherever Cody happened to be.

It was on one such occasion, on a forested planet Obi-Wan can no longer remember the name of, that he had turned away from Crash (and, he’d thought, Cody), only to stumble upon his commander preparing to direct half of Phantom Company through the process of removing a fallen tree that had crushed a house and blocked most of the packed-dirt road stretching through one of the little settlements they’d come planetside to defend. Obi-Wan could have moved the tree himself in a matter of seconds, but. Cody had told him to stay out of the cleanup, and one of his least favorite things in a time with many unpleasantries was upsetting Cody.

So he’d lingered on the outskirts, observing. Phantom acted, of course, as a well-oiled machine, and though fierce pride for his men bubbled up in his chest, Obi-Wan allowed himself a moment of indulgence. He leaned against a still-standing tree just behind the houses across the way from the crushed one, and watched Cody work. He was a study in professionalism, in genius, even when faced with a task so simple as moving debris. Cody burned with a focused intensity that matched the sunburst on his armor as he paced around the tree, and they had spent long enough nights hunched together over sims and holotables that Obi-Wan could easily guess the questions being mentally asked and answered in quick succession: how heavy is the trunk? How many troops do I need to lift it? If we apply more leverage here, will the house be more damaged or less?

It struck Obi-Wan then that he had not had time for fanciful things like poetry since the war’s beginning — but then again, maybe he didn’t need it. Maybe it had been right in front of him all along.

It was in the midst of this realization that he was pulled out of his thoughts by a presence at his elbow. When he turned, it wasn’t a clone, as he’d been expecting, but one of the locals; a wizened old woman leaning on a painstakingly carved wooden cane. She was not looking at Obi-Wan, but at the troopers as they worked. She was looking at Cody.

She had spoken before Obi-Wan could. “Strange, isn’t it.”

He waited a beat, and then another. She was silent beside him. “That would depend on what it is, I suppose,” he said eventually.

She laughed, though it was more of a huff than anything. The indulgent sort of laugh that comes from a person who knows a joke has been made but who doesn’t really feel like laughing. “All of this. The war, the clones. The Jedi, leading them. You’re not meant for this, are you.”

It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t answer it. “You know,” he murmured, “you’re the first person … outside of all this, to notice that.”

She laughed again. It was no more sincere than the first time. “Am I really on the outside, Master Jedi?” she asked. “Are any of us?”

Obi-Wan knew she was right, so he merely inclined his head. Cody was positioning Phantom around the tree. It looked like his plan was to heave it up and over the houses and the road using applied leverage from the base, and dismantle it for lumber once its position was no longer an immediate problem. It was a good plan, very practical, very Cody, and Obi-Wan couldn’t quite keep a small smile from creeping across his face.

He startled when the woman spoke again. “Is it worth it, then?”

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed and he hummed, confused. To protect the innocent, of course the war was worth it. He wasn’t meant for it, none of the Jedi were, but he would fight it a thousand times over to save those who could not save themselves. Why would she ask him that? Why else would he be here?

He felt eyes on him, then, and turned to see the woman finally looking at him and not at his troops. Something in her face reminded him of Yoda, like she had lived a dozen of his lifetimes and known more than he could ever hope to learn. “Is it worth it,” she repeated, and continued, “for him.”

All of the breath left Obi-Wan’s body in a rush. He suddenly felt exposed, uncovered, though he was sure of his safety in the saber hung at his belt and his trusted men not forty meters away. Little gods. Two words was all it took to undo the great Negotiator. But he supposed nobody had ever come so close to his soul with two words before. He was, for the first time in a very, very long time, unsure of what to say.

“I —” he started, and stopped just as quickly, because he’d been about to defend himself, but there was no need to defend in a battle that was already over. He settled on, finally, “He is … very dear to me.”

“You would not have met him without this war.” Something in her voice was sharp, and he knew the words he spoke next would determine whether he passed a test she didn’t even know she was setting. “He would not even exist.”

He chose his response carefully. “No. But sometimes I think — perhaps it would have been a gift, for them, to never have lived at all.” He took a deep breath, steadying. “They have never known anything but war. They were bred for it, raised on it, and now they breathe it and eat it and it haunts their dreams. As much as the idea of it pains me, a galaxy without him in it, he would not exist without his brothers, and they would not exist without the war in their bones.” He turned back, toward Cody, who was helping lift the base of the tree, readying to swing it out away from the road. “How can that be worth it? The misery of millions for the happiness of one?”

The tree was suddenly standing again, propelled into the sky by Cody’s careful placement of force and the sheer brute strength of battle-hardened troopers. It wheeled above them for a moment, rotating, before crashing into the ground and sending up a cheer from the men. Obi-Wan was caught momentarily in the sunbeams of Cody’s victory smile, radiant, glorious, beautiful even from a distance.

“You love him,” said the woman.

To hear the words out loud tore at something in him. He would never be able to say them himself, but he’d stopped denying the truth of them long ago. “Yes,” he said simply. “He deserves more than this, better than this. I would never wish this existence upon him, and in another life I would never claim this war to be worth it just so I might have the honor of —” the word loving stuck viscerally in his throat and he swallowed around it, “of knowing him again.”

Obi-Wan folded his arms tightly, wishing he had thought to bring his robes with him then, if only for something to do with his hands. Cody, having finished delegating the deconstruction of the tree, had spotted the odd pair and was heading over, bright with his success.

The woman, looking at Cody and then back at Obi-Wan, huffed that strange not-laugh again. “If you win this war, Master Jedi, will it have been worth it?”

With Cody striding toward him, Obi-Wan was stuck between the sensations of a heart full to bursting with the pain of a love he could never truly have and the gut-punch realization that maybe, someday, he could. He barely managed to gasp out an “Oh, I —” before Cody was upon them, saying, “General, sir, I thought I told you to stay at camp,” but his smile betrayed him, and Obi-Wan found himself grinning back, breathless, and for a brief moment there was no war and no winning and no losing; there was only them, together, and the galaxy was theirs for the taking.

Now, the surface of Tatooine is dark and chilled. Wind whistles around the hut on the edge of the Dune Sea — a sandstorm will hit in the next few days, and in the morning they’ll need to start preparing. The memory of that woman comes back to him, unbidden, and he clings tighter to Cody, wrapped in his arms on Obi-Wan’s lumpy old bed. He thinks of Anakin, as much as it hurts to, and of the thousands of fallen Jedi, and of every clone forced to take the life of innocents, their bodies their own but not their minds. The war lost him everything, everyone, and everywhere he’s ever loved. But little gods. Cody is alive. He’s here, and safe, and they’re together again, his sunshine returned to him. Obi-Wan hates himself for it (hate leads to the dark — please, stop, please), but the worst parts of his soul are screaming it: maybe for this, this small salvation in the ruins, everything had been worth it after all.

#star wars #codywan #cody x obi wan #my writing #i made a whole ass spreadsheet for the gar including ocs for this fic #crash is my 212th medic. i love him #and phantom company is real TO ME. my baby children <3 #this fic is gonna be so fucking long when its done #please let me know what you think! don't be a dick but otherwise tell me things :)#amg

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pikmingrubb · 10 months

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TWD X FTM!Reader

Pairings: Gabriel Stokes x ftm!reader

Tags: funny, sfw, kissing

“Come on !” Daryl groaned as he chased you across the grass, his fingers just out of reach as he tried grabbing your collar. Your feet slipped through the grass as you hauled ass through Alexandria’s backyards, hopping a local fence and skidding on the other side. You bolted down two houses and ran for the church, hoping he hadn’t seen you pass that direction. You knew you couldn’t run forever, but maybe if you hid around you could avoid him long enough that he wouldn’t be pissed at you once he finally found you.

It was a hope anyway.

You barged into the church, closing the doors rapidly and glancing around, your eyes immediately met a familiar face. Shit, you hoped maybe he wouldn’t be here.

“Is…Everything okay?” Gabriel said, a concerned look gracing his features, he didn’t seem as concerned as he observed the large grin on your face.

“I have to hide. I’m not here, okay?” You said quickly pushing past him and ducking under his desk crawling into the hiding space. He made a strange sound of surprise as you ducked down there, his footsteps rapidly approaching, you watched as he bent down to peer at you. You just observed his face a little, admiring his soft features.

“...Who are you hiding from?” He asked in a hushed tone, his one good eye looking around as if he’d see them pop out of nowhere.

“I uh, made Daryl pissed, okay?” You say quietly, trying to shoo him away, Gabriel just blinked at you, his lips parting as if to say something. “...Really?” He asked sounding exasperated, he swore you were like a little kid who just broke someone’s window and now was hiding from being punished.

You raised your brows and waved your hand at him again, panic rising in your chest that he would give away your hiding spot.

“Okay then…” He stood up and sighed a little, you just grinned and shrunk back into the space, trying not to breathe too heavily as you caught your breath again.

Just then you heard the church doors fling open, Gabriel was still standing near the desk, and you felt your heart drop… Uh oh, Daryl had already sniffed you out.

“Oh, Daryl, has Rick called a meeting?” He asked patiently, ignoring Daryl’s huffing form, he could tell he was mad, but he brushed it off.

“You seen that lil’ brat?” Daryl’s voice snapped, looking around for any sign of you, you practically held your breath.

There was a slight pause between the two, you imagined Gabriel giving Daryl a confused look. Please for the love of god, please play along… You begged inside your head.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been in here working on stuff alone this whole time.” You heard Gabriel chuckle a little after saying this, his voice sounded sincere. “Also, I’m not sure who the brat is that you’re looking for.” He said gently, Daryl practically rolled his eyes at him. He felt something was off, but Gabriel didn’t give him time as he sat down at his desk and pulled himself closer.

Your eyes widened as you saw Gabriel’s legs come into view, he blocked out most of the light and shielded your body from Daryl’s possible gaze if he decided to go snooping around in here. You tried to make yourself smaller as he scooted closer. His hand came down and rested on his knee, giving you a raised hand sign, a little ‘don’t move until I say it’s clear’.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Daryl’s quiet voice sounded through the quiet church, your blood went cold. Gabriel just chuckled a little giving a shrug, “Okay, you got me. He ran through here and went out the back window, I was supposed to distract you.” He admitted to him, a perfect lie, you practically grinned at his quick lies on your behalf.

“You might still catch him, he’s probably gonna hide in Rick’s house.” He commented, you watched quietly as he leaned over the desk, you heard the scratch of a pen against paper. Daryl cursed a little and you heard his heavy boot steps retreat back outside, you stayed perfect still watching Gabriel’s hand still stay posed up. His fingers relaxed a little, giving you a little thumbs up.

You let out a deep laugh as he scooted back allowing you to pop back up, he was also grinning like an idiot.

“What did you do?” Gabriel asks gently, his hand resting on your head and fluffing your hair. You just gave him big puppy dog eyes while you rested your chin on his knee.

“Nothing…” You mumbled softly, avoiding his raised brow as if scorning you with his eyes would make you spill your sins. He was a priest…but you for sure weren’t spilling anything to him.

He just sighed and continued patting your head as he leaned back into the chair, “He’s right, you are a brat.” He chuckled teasingly at you, his fingers brushing down the side of your face.

You just whined at him and leaned into his touch, “So…” You grumbled a little, Gabriel just laughed and gave you a little kiss on the forehead. “What am I gonna do with you?” He said slowly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, you just gave him a pouting look from on the floor.

“Kiss me?” You suggested with a small blush, you got up on your knees and leaned forward, Gabriel just leaned in with you. His hands gently grasped the side of your head and the back of your neck, lips brushing against your own gently. You pushed against his a little rougher, giving him an open mouth kiss and peppering his face with kisses.

He opened his eyes a little and stared down at you as you pulled back, his thumb still brushing over your cheek as he looked into your eyes. You blinked slowly, admiring his little grin, you brought your hand up to cover his with your own. You pulled his hand away and kissed his fingers, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Love you,” Your voice breaks the silence as you stand up and lean down to hug him, his arms circle around your back as he also stands up allowing him to embrace you back. His hands stroke your head as you nuzzle into his chest.

Completely ignoring the harsh gaze of Daryl through the window. Oh well, he could yell at you later.

#the walking dead #gabriel stokes x reader #trans masc reader #ftm reader

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albionscastle · 2 years

Text

In The Workshop

I ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING!!!! FOUR YEARS AFTER A BRAIN INJURY AND I GOT TO WRITE SOMETHING. I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD FIND INSPIRATION HERE, BUT I’M GOING TO RUN WITH IT. TBH THIS MAN AND HIS TWO IDIOTS HAVE KEPT ME SANE, MADE ME LAUGH FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A LONG TIME AND WELL....JUST LOOK AT HIM. AS ALWAYS ANY RPF I WRITE IS SET IN AN AU WHERE THEY HAVE NEVER MET THEIR REAL LIFE SIGNIFICANT OTHER.

You were grateful that you had brought your headphones, you thought as Elvis crooned in your ears. Looking across the giant garage you could see the three biggest idiots in the world gathered around an old Jag, it’s hood up while they clearly argued. Business as usual then, you shrugged, before getting back to your paperwork. This was supposed to be a work weekend, but as expected you were the only one getting anything achieved. The chance of them doing anything productive had gone out the window the moment Hammond’s new acquisition had been revealed. The tools had come out, followed by the beer and after about five minutes they had all forgotten you were even in the workshop with them.

Watching them in action when there were no cameras around was incredibly fun, even if you didn’t have sound. Clarkson was clearly trying to take the upper hand as he spun on a stool, motioning to May and Hammond who were actually doing the work. No doubt he was extolling the virtues of Alfa Romeos over Jags while May, who had ruined his shirt with engine oil was telling him off, complete with peeved-off look and sweeping hand gestures. Sneaking another glance over, you saw Hammond ignoring them and looking at the engine with an expression that could only have been called love. Your stomach twitched a bit as you watched him slide his hands over the body of the car in a way that could only be described as pornographic, at least to you.

Turning back to your work again you sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to put the image of those hands sliding over your skin out of your mind.

“He’s your boss, he employs you.” you muttered over and over under your breath.

Catching feelings for one of the men that paid your wages was about the stupidest thing you could ever do and you were determined to nip it in the bud before you made a total ass of yourself. The fact that you had been telling yourself for a year, didn’t escape you. The mistake had been meeting Hammond in the first place, one solid handshake and a smile and you had been reduced to jelly inside and out. You had never believed in love at first sight but damnit if lust at first sight hadn’t up and slammed you in the gut and taken up residence.

So far you thought you had done an excellent job of hiding it, actually loving your job and desperately wanting to keep it had helped with that. Being so busy and happy in your work meant that those pesky feelings rarely made themselves noticeable and you were able to function like a normal human being. Except on days like today. This was the first time you had been to Hammond’s ‘castle’, usually refusing to be the only female during a boy’s weekend. This time, however, you had been given no choice in the matter. James himself had shown up at your flat after work on Friday and told you to pack your bag. Every excuse had been ignored and the overbearing bastard had even threatened to haul you out to the car if you didn’t come willingly.

Seeing Hammond in his home environment was somehow much worse than seeing him in the office. Here the atmosphere was more relaxed, no-one had to watch what they said and did and you were seeing more of the real person behind the persona he presented for television. It was killing you. It was impossible to be unaffected when he proudly showed you around his space, almost shyly seeking your opinion of a room or an interesting piece of art. You had to literally swallow your heart back into your chest when you watched him playing exuberantly with his dogs. You had never seen him so happy and relaxed. Last night you had laid awake groaning into your pillow as you wondered when attraction had turned into something more, something deeper that you would never be able to speak out loud. Now, with this new knowledge tightening around your heart, you couldn’t seem to keep yourself together as much as you would have liked and you kept sneaking looks over to where they were working, letting your eyes settle on him when you were sure that no-one was watching. He was so short compared to the other two that it was hard to remember he still had a good five inches on you, not that you noticed. What you saw was a messy lock of brown hair falling over his forehead as he leaned over the engine, his face furrowed in concentration. You followed the smooth skin of his arms, muscles taut as he fiddled, the black t-shirt pulled tight across his chest. A hitch in your breath as he leaned over further, the shirt pulling up and revealing just enough of his stomach to be a tease, and those jeans should have been illegal, you thought as they stretched tight across his thighs and other places that you couldn’t even think about.

A change of artist on your playlist brought you crashing back to reality, with a clashing of drums and guitar making you jump, and you realized you had been staring, your pen between your teeth, completely oblivious to everything around you. Your cheeks flushed hot and red as you tried to gather your senses, unaware that you had in fact been caught. Shaking your head to try and clear your thoughts you didn’t notice the huddle around the car, or the pats on shoulders as Clarkson and May excused themselves with knowing smiles.

May stopped by the table where you sat and got your attention by tugging out your headphones.

“We’re going into town for supplies, can you make sure the Hamster doesn’t kill himself before we get back?”

Still flustered, you nodded your head in response, noticing a weird twinkle in his eye. You narrowed yours questioningly.

“I’m just saying, if he looks like he’s getting into trouble, find a way to distract him.”

He winked with a giggle before beating a hasty retreat, leaving you alone with the oblivious object of your increasingly inappropriate thoughts.

“Y/N? You wouldn’t mind bringing me a beer would you? Those two idiots just nicked off and left me empty.”

“Oh, allow me to remedy this travesty immediately sir. Should I have them arrested for cruelty to hamsters?” you joked as you usually did, walking over to his well-stocked fridge and grabbing two bottles.

“Oh ha ha ha, you’re so funny.” he groused with a grin.

“No, what I am is a fully capable human being with two legs who is able to get to the fridge. What happened to you? You lose your legs in battle?”

You were overcompensating with humor, you knew it but you were rattled today and not feeling sure of yourself. Resorting to humor was your go to defense, which worked well with these three as you were more than a match for their ribbing.

“I did break my leg, remember, smart arse.”

That was two years ago, how long are you going to milk it?” you laughed, handing him his beer, then perching on the stool Clarkson had vacated to take a long swig of your own.

“Well that depends, if you’re willing to massage it I can draw it out for quite some time.”

“I’m not that kind of assistant you retorted, attempting to disguise the fact that you had almost spat out your beer at his comment.

He always had been a flirt.

“Pity.” he shrugged, stretching his leg out as if it was actually hurting him and drawing your eye to the far too good fit of his jeans.

“Does it really still bother you that much?” you asked. You hated to think of him in pain and you knew the injury had been a bad one.

“Sometimes.” he took a swig of his beer before setting it on the engine block. “Sometimes I just use it as an excuse to have a pretty woman bring me a beer.”

“Shall I go find you one then?” you joked, cheeks turning pink.

He didn’t answer, just looked at you in the way he sometimes did, like you were a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

“So anyway, what’s so special about this wreck?” you waved your arm at the car to change the awkward banter.

“Wreck?! Did you just call her a wreck?” Hammond put his hand on either side of the bonnet as if it had ears, looking at you in indignant horror. “It’s ok baby, she didn’t mean it, Don’t listen to the mean lady.”

He glared at you.

“Say sorry.”

You hopped off the stool, throwing your arms up in surrender as you approached the car. Squatting down, you pretended it was talking to you, while Hammond scowled down at you.

“Sorry, pretty car.” You ran your hand along the fender, secretly enjoying the lines of the vehicle. “She says the tiny, shouty man needs to be nicer to his assistant or she’ll cut off his beer supply.”

“She did not.” he laughed.

“I assure you she did.” you sniffed with all the fake dignity you could muster, unable to keep the grin off your face. “Seriously though, I know shit about cars, but she’s a beauty. I always liked the older ones.”

“Really? Why’s that?” He was watching you over the neck of his bottle as you ran your fingers over the car.

“Yeah, they just seem to have more character than modern cars. Newer cars are all just space-age shows with no personality, but something like this…” you trailed off, realizing you were babbling and probably making no sense at all. “Sorry.”

You took another long drink from your beer while looking everywhere but at him.

“Don’t be sorry, I feel the same way. Though I don’t hate a nice new supercar, I prefer a classic.”

“Cause you can’t crash one of these at 150 mph?” you snarked, then immediately realized how inappropriate it was to joke about it.

Hammond just chuckled, putting his beer down again.

“Just for that I’m going to make you pay. Come over here.” he growled, pointing at the spot right in front of him.

Gulping and feeling guilty you did as he ordered, looking properly contrite.

“Jeeze, that face, I’m just going to have you help me with the engine, not spank you, unless…..”

You really hoped he didn’t notice the shiver that went down your spine at his words.

“Come on, I just need you to lean in there and hold this still for me.”

He pointed at an area way down inside the engine so you bent over the side of the car, reaching in and grabbing the first thing you felt.

“This?” you questioned over your shoulder.

“Let me check.” he chuckled from behind you.

All the breath left in your body left in a woosh as he leaned over you to reach into the engine, half his body flush with yours and pressing you into the hard metal of the fender. His fingers skimmed gently down your arm to your hand, feeling the part you had a hold of.

“Not quite. Here.” his breath was hot in your ear as he guided your fingers into the correct position. “Now hold.”

He pushed away from you to grab a tool from the table, making a loud clatter.

“This isn’t very comfortable, you know.” you managed, cheeks red at the thought of how you must look.

“Mmmmhmmm.” he murmured, walking back to you with what looked like a wrench. “I’m going to adjust you a sec, ok?”

His hands were on your hips before you could even reply, gently moving your lower body, brushing against the bare skin where your t-shirt had ridden up. This time there was no hiding the shiver, or the goosebumps that broke out on your skin.

“Sorry love, but otherwise I’d literally have to lay on top of you to get to the part and we don’t want that do we?”

“Speak for yourself.” you muttered under your breath as he stretched out beside you, hands running down your arms again.

“What was that?” he was fiddling with the part you were holding in place, so close his cheek kept brushing against yours.

To quote Jane Austen, you were half agony half hope.

“Nothing.” was all you could manage for fear of your thoughts making their way to your tongue, which was so close that you could have licked the smooth skin of his neck.

Ok mostly agony, because though your thoughts were running wild, they were just that. Hammond was completely oblivious and would probably run for the hills if he knew what you were thinking.

“You ok?”

Sure, I’m just imagining this exact scenario except instead of you fucking about with a car part, you’re nailing me into the side of the car.

“I’m good, my arms are a little sore.” you managed instead.

“Almost there darlin, just a minute more.” he grunted, fingers brushing yours as he fiddled with the part. “Just about got it. That’s it! Come on now baby.” He was giving you ample inspiration for the fantasy you would undoubtedly have about him when you hit your pillow tonight.

Miserable bastard.

“Ok that should do it, can you just hold it for a second longer for me?”

You nodded and in response he slid back, leaning over your back again to take a look down into the engine. You felt his crotch dig into your hip as he rested his weight on you and you could have sworn… No, you told yourself as he pulled away to stand up, it was his belt or something.

“Right love, let’s get you up then.” he was chuckling as you pulled your almost numb arms from where they had been stretched and tried, unsuccessfully, to push yourself up with muscles that had turned to jelly. “Here, I’ve got you.”

His hands came under your arms as he pulled your body into an upright position, a fine idea except that your knees had also turned to jelly and you collapsed back against him as he pulled you up. His arm was now wrapped around your waist as he helped you stay upright and you could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath, the taut muscle of his stomach against your back the…

Wait, what the hell? You went shock still, your breath hitching as his arm tightened around your waist. Hi hot breath was on your neck and you could have sworn he was panting, just as you were. Your hands came to rest on his forearm, to hold him there, his skin just as soft and smooth as you had imagined. Without warning you felt a sharp nip of teeth on your earlobe, enough to make you gasp, before the flat of this tongue reached out to slide over the same spot.

“Christ Jesus!” you hissed.

“Not quite, dear.” he murmured against your neck. “But I appreciate the compliment.”

“What’s happening?” you managed to whisper, fingers gripping his arm tightly as his teeth scraped against your skin.

He sighed suddenly, leaning back and moving his hands to your hips to slowly spin you around to face him.

“Look at me.” he ordered gently, using a finger to tilt your face up to his. When you were finally brave enough to meet his eyes he smiled softly. “I’m going to kiss you, but if you don’t want me to, say the word now and I’ll back off.”

You could only gape at him. No way were you going to say a single word in case he didn’t go through with it. His smile changed as he stepped forward to close the gap between you, his hands moving to either side of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. Wolfish now, you could see his teeth behind his lips and you swallowed hard, unable to look away from his mouth, wondering when someone was going to pinch you awake from this dream.

“Ok then.” was all he said before he pounced.

Your fingers bunched at the waistband of his jeans was the only thing holding you up as his lips brushed feather light across yours, once, then harder, his mouth soft and warm and the prickly hair of his goatee scratching your face gently. His hands slid down your neck and shoulders, palms running down your back until his arms were around your waist, pulling your body hard against his, your mouth opening to his tongue as he groaned into you. You moved your fingers to tangle in his hair, gripping and pulling as you slid your tongue against his, a thrill shooting down your spin into a warm twisting pulse between your thighs. You felt your knees give out as the tip of his tongue scraped along the roof of your mouth, the moan that escaped you primal and wild. Hammond’s hands slid down in response, gripping and lifting until you were up in his arms with your legs wrapped around his waist. He walked you the three steps to the car, setting you down on the fender without breaking contact with your lips for even a moment. In all your life you had never been kissed like this, and you never wanted him to stop.

He hissed into your mouth when you dragged your nails down his neck, down his chest and stomach until you could grip his hips, pulling him as close as you could get him, the feel of his hard length between your legs almost more than you could handle. A smile against your mouth as he began to grind against you. You just needed him, wanted him so much you were willing to let him have you right there, right now. Arching your back you silently encouraged him to put his hands on you, sighing happily as his lips and tongue blazed a path down your neck, one hand cupping your breast through your shirt, scraping his thumbnail back and forth across the nipple, making you squirm. You bit his neck softly, feeling him shiver under your fingers that had found their way under his shirt to stroke his back.

“Oh god Richard.” you sighed, resting your forehead on his shoulder, completely overwhelmed.

“You’ve never called me that before,” he whispered, tugging your earlobe with his teeth. “I like it.”

The sound of a car on the gravel drive was like a bucket of icy water being poured over the two of you and you sprang apart like two teenagers caught necking in the park.

“Fuck, they’re back. Perfect bloody timing as usual.” he growled, helping you down from the car and over to the stool where you quickly grabbed your now warm beer to make it look like you had been there all along. Richard stood beside you a moment, gazing at you before he leaned over to kiss you sweetly.

“Just so you know, I’m absolutely mad about you, have been for ages.” he whispered before jumping away to assume a position leaning into the car engine, trying to hide the obvious bulge in the front of his jeans. He looked over his shoulder at you, winking as the door to the workshop was flung open and the two idiots walked in with shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Right, we’re back, you’ve had more than enough time to take care of this Hammond, and your shops are boring.” Clarkson sauntered over and looked you up and down as you sipped your beer and you tried not to blush under the scrutiny.

“Hammond you idiot, did you ask her out or did you spend the whole time stuck in that bloody engine?” May pounded your back as you spat out your beer, coughing and spluttering.

You noticed Hammond’s cheeky smile and raised eyebrow before he stood up and valiantly tried to stand up to the two bigger men.

“Well thanks you giant cocks, you’ve just managed to make this an uncomfortable situation.” he scolded, pushing them aside and gently brushing his lips across your forehead. “Forgive them, they don’t have a brain cell to even share.”

You blushed, standing when he took your hand and laced his fingers through yours.

“Christ Hammond, I told you to stop mooning about like a lovesick calf and ask for a date, not maul her in the garage.” Clarkson boomed, slapping May in the chest and pointing at you. May immediately started snickering.

“I’d say you took care of business right enough, Hamster.”

Richard’s eyes suddenly went wide and he started backing out of the garage, “I’m going to go and get dinner started, you should come with me Y/N.”

With that he made a run for the door and you noticed the black marks on the back of his jeans that looked suspiciously like handprints.

“Fuck.” you muttered, looking down at yourself and noting the engine oil stains on your white shirt, including the glaring Hammond sized handprint right there on your chest.

You stormed to the door, flinging it open as you realized there were probably handprints all over your ass as well if the laughter from the other two was anything to go by.

“HAMMOND!” you screamed into the dusk while Clarkson and May fell to the floor in gulping laughter.

He was going to pay for that.

#richard hammond #richard hammond and ofc #top gear fanfiction #the grand tour fanfiction #richard hammond fanfiction

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selfless1978 · 1 year

Text

MAD DASH FOR LOVE

ok, I feel like I should explain a few things before I throw my AU stuff out there. first off, my OCs Vicky and Cris live in "this" world. They go back and forth between dimensions by using a portal Donnie made. Second, Vicky and Leo share a mindlink. That happened after she got mildly mutated. This Particular story takes place "here" where the turtle lair is "there".

I hope this doesn't confuse too many folks lol

My eyes narrowed as I took the situation in. It wasn't a good one. There were a large amount of bodies between me and my target, and I didn't have much time. I ended up cursing my typical bad luck as I scanned the area, trying to plan the best course of action in this situation. Almost immediately I came to the conclusion that a frontal rush would be the best solution here. I took a deep breath to steady myself, then took off in a run.

Using the agility I had spent countless hours training, I easily dodge through the mass of bodies in front of me. The old lady pushing the shopping cart was a bit of a problem but I solved that by just vaulting over it, to her opened mouth shock. I ignored it as I kept going. I had more important matters on my mind. That buxom blonde bimbo was getting too close and I had a lot of ground to make up. She knew I was coming too but she got hung up in her own rush of bodies. I smirked at her as I pulled ahead, and that promptly earned me a faceplant with an end of aisle display that I didn't see. Of course if I had been watching where I was going...

I rolled back to my feet leaving the tipped over shelving unit and it's contents where it fell, flipped over another cart pushing customer and hit the floor running. Cursing the mistake of talking on the phone on the way in about what I was wanting to get. And then seeing even from across the store that there was only one left. And this bitch thought it would be a good idea to get it too all of a sudden. Dumb broad...just couldn't come up with her own idea and had to steal mine. I knew that's what she was wanting to do as soon as I saw her eyes light up. And with a "Hell fucking no!" the chase was on.

Great...now there were two carts in front of me, both spaced out a bit apart. I would lose time if I tried to do a double jump or tried to weave my way around them. In a split second I chose another route. I flipped up onto the top of the shelves, my feet knocking everything over off of the cluttered thing, running along it to the delightful squeal of the toddler in one of the carts that caught sight of me. Of course by the time his mother turned to see what had him giggling away I was already past them.

My eyes narrowed when I noticed that smackaho was closer than me and I put on some more speed, stepped off of the edge of the shelf and landed in front of her right before she reached out to grab it. With an immense feeling of triumph my hands landed on it first and I picked it up and held on tight. Then I turned and gave her the most evil grin I could before I sauntered off to the checkout counter. This was my Valentine's present dammit and I was going to give it to Leo.

I quickly lost my smug feeling when I turned and noticed the destruction I left behind me. Ooops... I took the long way around, hit the self checkout counter and hauled ass outta there right about the time a few cop cars pulled in. Well...I wasn't coming back to this store again. Didn't bother me a bit though as I clutched my prize and slipped into my Jeep and headed home before they even got out of the patrol car. I'd have to ask Donnie, on the sly, to see if he could erase all the evidence this little mishap caused. You know, the video feeds, police reports...shit like that.

It was with a large feeling of relief when I finally made it home, to find Cris and Marina waiting for me by the door. Both of them were looking at me as if they had just spent a large amount of time laughing at me.

"What?" I asked my chuckling friends as I slipped out of the Jeep.

"Did it ever occur to you to hang up the phone before you went on your rampage?" Cris asked me back.

"Huh?"

"We heard it all." Marna laughed. "Cris put it on speaker phone. Donnie is already working on cleaning up your mess."

"Oh..." I blushed. Ok...so I wouldn't ask him on the sly. "Leo doesn't know...does he?"

"No." Cris grinned. "He was in the lair meditating. Still is actually. You're off the hook on that one...for now. Well, let's see it. It better be worth the effort you put in to get it."

I sheepishly opened the back door and carefully pulled it out.

"Oh Vicky... It's perfect for him." Marina's eyes actually misted up a little and Cris quietly nodded her agreement.

I blushed again at their reaction as I carefully brought it into the house. "I'm...going to bring it to him now. Nowhere really to hide it for later and he's in the right spot for me to give it to him."

Cris smiled. "You go do that."

So I did. I walked through my house, trying not to pay Donnie any attention as he gave me a quick glare as he muttered and worked, and into the lair. My footsteps carried me towards the dojo, through it and to the little room adjoining it where he usually meditated when he didn't sit in his father's room. I hesitantly brought up a hand and knocked on the doorframe as the other held the present close to me.

Leo sat cross legged on a mat in the dim room, his eyes closed and his face softly lit by the scented candles that flickered on the low table in front of him. "Come in dear one." His blue eyes opened.

I looked around the room that was otherwise bare of furnishings. Leo never really did need much so his meditation area was just as bare as his room was. "I have something for you."

His head tilted curiously as he noticed the item I was carrying. "A picture by the looks of it." He got to his feet.

I nodded and turned the large frame around so he could see as I held it out to him. "Happy Valentine's Day. I know it's not the typical Valentine's gift, but I didn't want to get you some cheesy ass teddy bear stuffed in a mug... I wanted to give you something special."

His eyes grew wide as he took it from me, then they took in every detail of the Japanese painting I had found...and trashed a department store to get. He held it with one hand and ran the fingers of the other over the pristine landscape pinned under the glass, the colors mixed perfectly to highlight the mountains in the background, the forests on each side and the quiet little village tucked in the middle field. Even the clouds were perfect and seemed to float across the painting. Then those eyes looked at me.

"I...I thought it would be nice to hang it in here... Give you something pretty to look at if you can't sett-"

He cut me off with a kiss after he pulled me too him, careful to keep the painting out to the side. That went on for a minute or two. Was a little busy to keep track of the time there.

"Thank you Vicky." He told me when he finally gave me a chance to breathe again. Leo then turned and carefully placed it on the low table between the candles and leaned it against the wall. Then he stepped back to look at it as his arm wrapped around my shoulders. "It's perfect."

"I did good?" I smiled the question at him.

"Very good." He smiled back. Then an eyeridge came up. "But did you really have to destroy the houseware section of the store to get it?"

My jaw dropped open. How did he...

'You forgot to shut some memories out dear one.'

God damn it...

His laughter filled the room then as he turned me to him and pulled me into a hug. "Oh Vicky... I do love you."

"I hope so. Otherwise I'm going to end up on America's most wanted for nothing..."

Leo chuckled as he shook his head in amusement.

"I'll go pester Donnie for a hammer and nails." I tried to leave the room, only to have him pull me back to him.

I squeaked in startlement as he spun me back around, then I shivered when I noticed that look in his eyes. "That can wait..." He murmured. His mouth came in again for another kiss even as his hand reached behind me to close the door. Right after that Leo guided me to the mat, the first churr of many filling the room.

Leo's meditation room was used for something besides meditation that afternoon. The painting bearing silent witness to our love making as our candlelit reflections mirrored off of the glass. A perfectly beautiful painting that was almost as perfectly beautiful as the love we shared for each other.

@turtle-babe83

#4-1 #1-4 #1-1?#i dunno #have some Vicky getting into trouble!#look ma! I did challange!#........somewhat

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izzy-b-hands · 2 years

Text

man a nightclub running AU tho.

Black Pete and Jim as bouncers, Roach bartends, Frenchie and Wee John help arrange for talent/performers (thinking like more club/concert space for smaller shows)

the Swede and Buttons handle stuff like set up and lights (the lighting system is weird as fuck, and they are the only two who can make it work without potentially breaking the entire thing)

Lucius is some unique combo of things: he'll bartend with Roach, help shout assholes out of the club while Pete and Jim handle the physical tossing bit. But he also helps Olu with the finances (Olu's main job because he saw Stede's attempt at it and knew they'd sink in a month if he didn't step in, and he really doesn't feel like job searching again so soon. Plus, Stede is very excited abt his new club even tho he knows next to nothing abt the actual running of one, and the enthusiasm is sweet), and will generally pick up anything else that needs doing as long as he doesn't outright hate doing it

Ed runs a competing club across the street but as soon as he sees Stede and his crew and how they work (and also how cute Stede is), he's like ayyy

what if I sell my space and help you run your newer, nicer space? I can give you Izzy as an extra bouncer, he does a good job at my club (he does. he may be short but he will literally haul ppl outside and yeet them a good foot while calling them a twat so loudly anyone nearby now knows this person is apparently an asshole. several times this has unleashed a passing drunken bachelorette party on the tossed out asshole, who don't know what's going on but will happily give this person a dressing down for harshing the overall vibe

It also nets Fang and Ivan as additional stage crew and bartenders and tbh whatever else they feel like doing. they've done the work for ages, they know their shit, so having their help in any area is a gift

Badminton's shithead twin (im gonna probs misspell it, Chauncey? dickfuck #2 lol) rolls in with some Footloose levels of i don't want clubs near my home and schools!!! Meanwhile the fucking club is all the way down town, and his dumb ass lives literally miles away on the outskirts of town on a big lot with horses and rich ppl shit, and his kids go away to a private school. it seems like he's literally just making a fuss to make a fuss, but either way now they have to deal with his shit. and he is batshit, he keeps trying to do things to fuck up their service and revenue like stealing the visiting talent's gear, attempting and failing poorly to set the club on fire, etc, but he's besties with the authorities so any reports they make get minimal results if any

eventually Ed finds out Stede has had to consistently kick out and finally banned the first Badminton twin for being generally terrible and making other patrons uncomfortable and shit, on like week two of his club being open, and that's the actual reason twin 2 is losing his shit. Explains it, but doesn't excuse it

The only thing I can't decide is how to end it, and how to work everyone else in. I do right now really like the idea of Mary and Spanish Jackie as a team of lawyers that end up representing the Revenge and crew as a business entity while the Badminton dickfucks keep trying to bring useless, so far only civil, cases against them. Bonus for Doug as the legal assistant, because i feel like he'd shine there, honestly. He's got his shit together, and he genuinely loves going to the club to see new bands, so yeah yeah conflict of interest but ehhh it's fanfic fuck it lol, and he doesn't want to see it taken away when it's doing decently well finally, and most in town who are old enough to get into a club love it

Calico Jack is just a regular performer, but each performance is Something. Never know exactly what he's gonna do: spanish guitar for three hours? strip tease? Led Zeppelin cover band made up of only him? you gotta roll the dice and see what he shows up with. Stede is a little concerned abt him but hey, he shows up consistently and helps set up his own gear while working out a decent deal for wages with Stede and Olu, so what more could he ask for on the nights when they have no guest performers coming in?

the ending really evades me rn, but im gonna find it dang it. eventually lol

#text post #once again i have this idea on a draft but my brain quit after two sentences #but also it won't leave my head and it's driving me nuts so here this post is lmao

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some-kindofgnome · 3 years

Text

you turn me on (i’m a radio)

bokuto comes over one night midweek while you’ve got the apartment to yourself. after a mishap with his favourite volleyball shorts, you take advantage of the privacy.

c: koutarou bokuto x reader

wc: 5.4k

tags: smut (18+ please!), college au, aged-up characters, oral sex (both receiving), praise kink, begging, soft and sloppy sex feat. bo the horny simp giving u the creampie of ur life, body worship if u squint

notes: bo has a fat ass and I have a praise kink. that is all. oh, wait, i should also mention that this is mostly unedited. so if u see typos feel free to point em out! thx 💕

the song this bit is named after is so sweet and sunny & makes me think of bo all the time, so give it a listen if you’d care to! ☀️

ALSO forgot to mention that this was inspired by a tiktok i saw like a million years ago where this girl was helping her boyfriend get out of his too-small rugby shorts. it has been lost to the ether but you better BELIEVE if i ever find it again i’ll be linking it here

EDIT: @karikarasuno the absolute ANGEL has scoured the internet and found the tiktok in question. p l e a s e go and watch it, u will not regret 😌

(MASTERLIST)

“’Kay, okay, I’m going!”

Bokuto tears himself from the tender press of your mouth in one fell swoop. As he whirls away with a tempted giggle, he combs his fingers through his mussed-and-sweaty hair. Practice was only two hours tonight, but he still doesn’t want to leave your side even long enough to shower.

You’ve only been dating for a few months, still lingering in that phase of every new relationship that feels too good to last. Your emotional involvement in one another deepens by the day, but you never fight. And you have a shamefully difficult time keeping yourself away from him. On a weeknight like this with no big assignments to speak of, you should be catching up on your readings, your chores, or even your sleep. But when you passed Bo in the quad earlier, pausing in your walk to class for a hi and a kiss, you’d invited him over before you could even stop yourself.

He’s nice to be around. Pleasant, unhindering. Even if you wanted to finish some readings or do some laundry while he’s over, he’s happy to be idle in your company. He is infuriatingly patient and understanding sometimes, compared to the slew of demanding, needy boyfriends that came before him.

You watch him retreat into the safety of your bedroom, grinning like a fool. He’s fresh out of practice and practically dripping in sweat, dried from the walk you shared from the athletic center. Your evening class that night wrapped up around the same time as his practice, and when you passed the gym doors on your way home, he was already loitering on the steps with his teammates. Instead of pretending he didn’t see you or offering you a casual, passing nod like you expected, he practically bounded down the wide concrete steps and introduced you gleefully to the pack of volleyball players behind him who already knew you well.

There was no way you were letting him go all the way home to shower first. Not when he’s never minded smelling like your orange-and-sandalwood shower gel in the first place.

Once he’s disappeared, you give a yawn and a deep stretch and haul ass off the couch, padding into the kitchen to tidy up the snacks you shared on the way in the door.

You’ve barely got the first plates in the sink before a muffled babe? from the bedroom gives you pause.

“Bo?” You call back, setting your handful down and trying to keep your brow from furrowing too deeply. ��You okay?”

“Can you… um…” His response starts off strong, louder than before, but it dwindles into a dull, unintelligible mutter that sounds uncertain enough to send you away from the kitchen.

You gently shoulder the bedroom door open, frowning at his broad shape, silhouetted in the shadowy bathroom doorway from the light behind him. “What’s the matter?”

Feeling along the wall for the light switch, you illuminate the pot lights over your bed.

Bokuto’s cheeks are gently flushed as he waddles toward you with his thumbs dug into the waistband of his volleyball shorts. The fabric is tough and certainly seems clingy, but there’s a strain in his neck and shoulders that takes you a minute to pin down.

“I can’t…” he starts to say, trailing off, then pulls his hands out of his shorts and drops them to his side with a heavy, defeated sigh.

“They’re stuck.”

You force the corners of your mouth downward, tightening the line of your mouth to keep the mirth locked firmly in your throat.

“I can see that.”

He’s been hitting the gym hard lately, shoving down the calories to try and bulk up a little for the upcoming tournament season. And while you know he’s been putting on some weight, since he tells you just about everything, it never occurred to you that he might be bulking up quick enough to outgrow his favourite shorts.

Bo lets out a quiet little whine, digging a thumb into the waistband one more time and prompting you to step forward.

“How stuck are you?” You reach for him. He turns sideways, twisting his chin over one shoulder to try and assess the situation from every plausible angle.

Oh. You slap a hand to your mouth.

The waistband is rolled down around his hips and already strained to its absolute limit, stuck on the sharp swell of his butt and already compressing the flesh in a way that looks genuinely painful. He’s wearing a pair of tight white compression shorts underneath the uniform shorts in question, but they’re not doing much to aid the situation, either.

You’re eager to get him out of those shorts for several reasons now.

“Alright.” You try to keep your voice low, stepping up to his front and gently laying your hands on the stiff cotton roll at his hips. “Let me just-“

“I don’t know what happened,” he whines, slotting his hands on top of yours and squirming in between them. “They were hard to get on, but-“

“Don’t worry,” you interrupted softly. “We’ll get them off you one way or another.”

The fearful reflection of your sharpest kitchen scissors in his eyes suggests that he believes you.

Your first two attempts are about as successful as Bokuto’s solo endeavours. First, you wedge your hands into the fabric at his sides while he pushes from the front and back, but you give a hard shove while he lets up on the tension and his elbow very nearly connects with your nose, so you try a different approach.

Coming round to his backside, you dig your hands into the space between his uniform shorts and the tight spandex that holds what’s left of his modesty.

“Okay,” you pant, already a little breathless after dodging Bokuto’s flying elbows. “What if I-“

“Hang on,” he prompts, but it’s too late. You wind up and jump as hard as you can, using the downward force generated to try and shove the confining waistband down over his hips. It slides down another couple of inches, and inspiration flares in your chest as Bokuto turns over one shoulder, sweating.

“It’s working!” Your voice comes shrill with excitement, and before he can stop you you’re jumping again, shoving even harder this time. You meet resistance this time, and before you can clue in to what’s pushing back Bokuto howls in pain and doubles over, clasping his palms between his thighs.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” You drop to one knee beside him as he descends into pained laughter.

“’S alright,” he promises, “I didn’t want kids that bad, anyway.”

You can’t help the snort that bubbles forward from your chest. Bo straightens slowly as his pain fades, but you stay on your knees, determined to get him undressed without resorting to textile violence.

Determination settles heavy and proud across your shoulders. You look up through your brows at him and when your eyes meet, his cheeks pink softly.

“We got this.”

Bokuto’s throat bobs. He nods shallowly and pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

You slip your hands into his shorts again, rolling them slowly down his thighs. Bokuto averts his eyes, letting out another audible gulp. Just when you’re starting to get somewhere, his hips twitch and he shifts his weight restlessly from one leg to the other.

“Stand still,” you scold, giving his hip a little slap. His breath hitches, hands flinching forward as he dips his torso backward.

“Um,” he pants. When you look up at him again, his neck and ears are bright red and he’s got his eyes trained firmly on the Star Wars poster hanging above your desk.

You level your gaze and realize two things.

1) Bokuto’s not wearing anything under his white compression shorts.

2) Apparently, your little scare wasn’t nearly as painful for him as he let on.

“Babe,” you tease. “I’m flattered, really.”

“C’mon!” He protests, scraping his fingers through the wild strands of his sweat-clumped hair. “What’d you think was gonna happen if you got down there all…”

“All what?” You lean forward without thinking, nuzzling the spandex that sits in the groove between his hip and his thigh. He groans deeply, letting his head fall back. His cock, thickening at the base, is still restrained tightly by the waistband of his shorts. You can practically see it throb into its confines, and his groan pinches tight with discomfort.

“Baby, please.” He’s wound his hands tightly in the front of his t-shirt by now, rucking it up over his belly for some way to dispel the tension. “Get ‘em off. Please.”

“You’re not exactly making it easier.”

A desperate whine from over your head suggests that maybe the time for jokes is passing. You abandon all coyness and tuck your hand under the weight of his balls, gently tugging down on the waistband and freeing all of him from its confining pressure. Bokuto gasps and lets his hips swing forward, but his dick swells quickly to fill its new, spandex restraint and you figure you’d better work quickly.

“God, this is really turning you on, isn’t it?” You can’t help the eagerness in your tone as you attack the swell of his hips one last time. With all his sensitive parts in the clear you don’t have to hold back, wedging and wrenching until the widest part of his pelvis is free and the shorts drop to the floor with a soft little triumphant rustle.

Bokuto groans like he’d just been strapped to a time bomb, stepping out of the fabric and kicking it towards the door. He drops the hem of his shirt and reaches for you, but you’re already leaning in to nose against the crook of his thigh some more, peeling down the stretchy, forgiving top of his compression shorts.

“Wh- babe.” He flushes. “I haven’t showered-“

“Don’t care,” you hum, entranced by the hypnotic length of his shaft, white spandex stretched sheer and dabbed with wet at the tip. “Want to taste you.”

“Are you s- oh, you’re sure.” His hands surge forward, this time soothing lovingly over the crown of your head as you tug the stretchy fabric down to his knees. His cock bobs eagerly against one thigh, unaffected by its confining endeavour, and you lean in and seal your mouth against the seam of his groin, where his shaft meets his body.

He is bulky and broad, thick cords of muscle and fat spanning his thighs and torso. His thighs and pelvis are dusted all over with wiry silver hair, and you bury your nose into the trimmed patch of it over his cock, licking eagerly at his soft skin.

Above you, Bokuto shudders hard enough to buckle his knees while you trace your hand up the stiff length of him. You’re trying your best to hide just how deeply you want to breathe him in, the addicting musk of his sweat filling your brain and sending deep throbs of arousal straight to your pussy.

“So hard,” you groan into his hip, “just from letting me get on my knees for you?”

He draws a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing at the back of your head as his eyelashes flutter. His face is beet red from nose to hairline now.

“W-well, what else was I s’posed to- with you lookin’…” He is borderline incoherent, and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet.

Adorable.

“You smell so good,” you murmur without thinking, flicking your eyes to his quickly when you realize what you’ve said. But it only serves to push his own arousal further, cock throbbing palpably between your fingers as he curses quietly through his teeth.

“Please,” he groans, letting his head roll back. “Don’t tease.”

You can’t deny a request as pleasantly worded as that.

After planting one more teasing kiss along the plane of his shaft, you draw back to his tip and give your tongue an enthusiastic flick, dipping it into his weeping slit. He yelps, and you swallow him down before he can ride out the shock, making him shiver. You can feel the tremor racking all the way down the column of his spine, his toes curling on the floor by your knees.

When you start to bob your head, his jaw goes completely slack. You’re learning to love the way he doesn’t hold back with you, a point made obvious by the expressions crossing his face as you settle into a steady rhythm. You can’t fit his entire length- impressive, not that he knows it- into your throat, but when you grip the base of his shaft with one hand and the spit from your throat drips eagerly between your fingers, he practically goes cross-eyed.

You fight the urge to smile around him, leaning into the way he fusses and grips at your skull.

“Nggh, babe, not gonna last long… when… suckin’ like that.” He’s grabbing your head with both hands, rocking his hips tightly forward in time with your gaudy slurping. You’re drooling all over your hand, spit dripping obscenely down your chin and onto the hardwood, but his whimpers are growing to obscene levels, punctuated by deep, chesty growls and quiet, slurred praise.

There’s no way you’re going to back off now.

You’ve been with Bo long enough to know his tells, so when his thighs start twitching and his voice pitches from his chest into his throat, you re-double your efforts, intensifying his pleasure until he’s howling and panting like a beast, rocking tightly into your mouth with his abs drawn tight as a bow.

“Ohhh, babe, lemme cum on your tits,” he pleads, slurring every syllable together as he looks down at you with unimaginable bliss mounting in his gaze. “Please, please, please, your tits, lemme cum on ‘em.”

With a smirk touching one corner of your mouth, you drop your free hand between his thighs. Until now it had been braced delicately on his hip, gently mitigating the wild bucks and twitches of his body giving into ecstasy. But you’d picked up one little trick that never failed to boost him over the edge- and send him falling that much further as a result.

As you draw your mouth back from his twitching cock, you close your free hand around the heavy sack of his balls- drawn up tight to his thighs in preparation for his orgasm- and give the supple skin a gentle little tug while you arch your back and jerk him off against the swell of your chest.

Bo’s voice shoots up a twelve-tone as his hands slide from your hair to your cheeks. His fingers tremble as he cups your face, throwing his head back with a wild yowl and wildly humping your fist. The first long spurt of his cum hits you square in the throat, dripping down between your collarbones and soaking the neckline of your tank top as he rides out the powerful waves of his climax. By the time it’s over, his thighs are shaking hard, tough lines of muscle standing out against the silver hair while his cock dribbles ripe streams right down your shirt.

He deflates with a heavy, heady sigh, falling to one knee in front of you and keeping your face gathered between his palms.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he moans, leaning in to capture your mouth and dip his tongue sloppily against yours. As soon as he’s found your lips he skates his hands down your shoulders to your breasts, lovingly cupping and thumbing the tightening buds of your nipples where thick shots of his cum are soaking into the white cotton. You can’t help the shaky little sigh that catches at the back of your throat, or the aching way you lean into his touch.

“G’nna-“ he cuts himself off, dipping his face into your throat. He licks into the tender column of your windpipe, bringing one big palm to the back of your neck to hold your head steady while he tucks his chin in and tastes the wet stripes of his cum that paint your décolletage. You’re not exactly sure what to expect, but the long, wet groan he lets into your chest is a pleasant surprise. He slides his hands from your neck to your shoulders to your sides and up the plane of your back, drawing you closer while he laps the mess from your collarbones and neckline.

“C’mon,” he mumbles into the swell of your left breast. “Gotta taste all of you.”

He slips his arms underneath you, lifting you with little more than a quiet grunt of effort as he gets to his feet. He holds you lovingly against his chest, striding slowly across the room and depositing you onto the bed with a smooth little bounce.

You hardly have the space to catch your breath before he braces a knee on the mattress beside you and leans down for another taste of your lips, kissing you slow and loving and skating a palm down your front. He slips his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, slipping his fingertips across your clit and making you yelp. Chuckling into your mouth, he dips his fingers lower and gasps.

“God,” he sighs. “Shoulda known you were holding out on me.” He sinks his middle finger into your clingy depths while he catches your mouth under his one more time. You’ve been unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, pinned sensuously under his touch, but as he curls his fingers against the restrictive insides of your leggings, you whine deep and slow into his mouth, arching your back to push your hips into his touch.

He doesn’t linger, drawing his hand from you and curling it in the waistband of your leggings instead. You’re slipping your fingers under the hem of your soiled tank top, pulling it up to expose the bare swell of your breasts.

“Let me?” He poses it like a question, pulling your leggings and underwear down and fluttering a kiss to the newly exposed skin below your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, already planting your feet in the fluffy sheets to lift your hips and help him undress you.

He pulls your leggings and underwear down over your hips in one smooth motion, pulling just a little harder than necessary to make you gasp and giggle. Your ass lands on the mattress all at once, punctuated by another handful of mirth that you can’t keep contained.

Bo’s grinning down at you as he balls up your clothes and tosses them toward the hamper like a mid-court basket shot. He doesn’t wait to find out if they made it, though, settling himself between your knees and gathering your hips into his arms.

“So soft,” he purrs, kissing the velvet skin of your tummy.

“Bo,” you whine. It’s your turn in the hot seat, and now the idea of teasing isn’t half as appealing as it was when you were on your knees.

“What? You don’t want me to take my time with you?”

You groan, letting your head flop back against the pillows as your eyes slip shut. Now that he’s got you bare, with his breath puffing hot and wanting over your tender skin, it’s hard to focus on anything but what you want.

“Don’t be mean,” you whine, but the hot press of his tongue on your inner thigh shuts you up fast. He moans low and rumbly against the damp of your skin, sinking his teeth gently into the fat of your thigh and giving a noisy suck.

“You’re so ready for it,” he muses, eyes darting sideways to admire your weeping slit. The buzz of his voice shoots right down the column of your spine, vibrating pleasantly at the base of your tailbone and sending goosebumps racing up your torso.

“Man,” Bo sighs, planting one hand on each thigh and pushing them apart. “You must really like suckin’ me off, huh?”

“I swear,” you grit. “I’m never touching your dick again if you don’t-“

He doesn’t waste another minute, leaning down and sealing his mouth greedily over your slit. The payoff is there for both of you, if the sound he makes when he dips his tongue between your folds is anything to go by.

The relief comes on swift wings as soon as he lets his tongue wander, stoking the fire that had been burning dangerously low and hot in your gut. Your thighs twitch in toward his ears while he tastes your messy slit, but his palms are as strong as shackles, keeping you open and vulnerable for him.

Bo prods his tongue forward, pressing inward as far as he can with a tiny little strained groan of effort. You cry out and clamp down around his tongue like a vice, a reaction he feels so vividly it makes him whip back from your body with a laugh.

“Don’t stopppp,” you plead, but his face is already disappearing between your thighs again, and you wrap your fingers in the hem of your tank top while he re-focuses his efforts on your swollen clit. He’s pressing his hips forward in a slow tempo that matches the patterns he tongues between your thighs, softly humping the mattress in time with your pleasure.

You’re sensitive and ready for him, stomach tightening smoothly when he settles into a rhythm. His technique is sloppy but he makes up for it in eagerness, pausing only to take deep breaths through his nose. He smiles into your skin and you can feel the way his mouth twitches against you, making you arch your back and slide one hand between your legs to rake through the silvery strands of his mussed hair. He grunts hard against your clit and you jump, giving him the chance to slip his hands under your thighs and hook them over his shoulders.

When he swallows you down this time, there’s something in the changed angle that drives pleasure straight down your back, letting it reverberate all the way into your toes. You flinch hard between his hands, and as he settles back into his messy, enthusiastic rhythm, you feel the telltale twinges of your building climax.

“Bo-“ you choke on his name.

He flicks his gaze to yours and his eyes flash, bright and golden. He knows your tells, too, and he sinks his fingers into the fat of your thighs, re-doubling his efforts and sucking a languid rhythm into your needy clit.

“Fuck,” you sputter. “Fuck, f-fuck, I-ah-“

Your mouth drops open, but the scream dies in your throat as white-hot pleasure bursts through your veins. Bokuto is heartbreakingly persistent, keeping up his ministrations while you claw at his hair and clamp your thighs down around his temples and ride the waves of your orgasm as gracefully as possible. By the time the sharp, burning pleasure’s raked its way through you, all your limbs have gone tense, and when it’s over you collapse, sweat-soaked, to the sheets beneath you.

Bo’s trembling between your legs, and when he surfaces his cheeks and ears are maroon. His cock is still twitching against his belly, bobbing as he gets onto his knees and still weeping long streams of spend.

“Oh.” The word flies from your throat before you can trap it, and he rubs your thighs soothingly with both hands as he takes a shaky, cleansing breath.

“You’re so-“ he starts to say, but you reach for him and he’s got no choice but to dip his cheek into your palm, flushing even deeper at the open way you stare.

“C’mere,” you prompt. Bo takes the bait and flops forward, landing stomach-first on the bed beside you and pillowing his head between your slick breasts. The position ought to be comical, but the weight of him is immensely soothing, rising and falling with the even pulse of your laboured breath.

You lie that way for a long while, staring vacantly past your reflection in the dark window beside your bed. The nighttime chill radiates through the glass, cooling your heated flesh. Your body aches with the fresh sensations of climax, but you’re not ready to put your clothes on yet.

“Bo.”

“Hmm?” It never occurred to you that he might be half-asleep until he winds himself upright, blinking weighty silver lashes against his still-blushing cheeks.

Still, you know how to wake him up. The conspiratory grin that touches your mouth is completely involuntary, and it’s enough to have Bokuto cocking a tired brow.

“Can I ride your cock?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything at all. His eyes grow slowly bigger, focus drifting away from your face as his jaw drops. Literally.

“Bo? Baby?”

“Y- b- I… h-“ he sputters, blinking hard and shaking out his sweaty hair. He looks up at you again with an expression unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Like a kid at the zoo.

“Right now?”

You can’t hold back a snort, shoulders pitching forward. But he’s not kidding.

Neither are you.

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that a yes?”

By the time he rolls over, his cock’s already half-hard again, swelling against the strong cord of his right thigh. He sits up, scooting himself comfortably back against your bed’s stacked pillows. And when he reaches for you, you’re already rooting through the nightstand for supplies.

Bo’s a big dude, in every conceivable way. And while he’s never exactly been shy about that fact, he’s also painfully aware of the fact that with great power comes great responsibility. So when you start to warm a dollop of chilly water-based lube between your fingers, he doesn’t flinch.

“Mmmf.” He pushes his hips into your hands as you wrap them around his shaft, letting him swell into your palms while you slick him up. He’s still tender from before, and when you shift onto your knees your clit’s still tensing with leftover pleasure, but you’re buzzing with want. It hangs thick and heavy in the air between you. You’re unwilling to let it dissipate until you’re both completely satisfied.

By the time you’ve got the lube spread evenly from his base to his tip, Bo’s fully hard for you again, flushed and panting and grabbing at your hips as you scoot forward to straddle him. His impatience should probably bother you, but at this point it’s just endearing.

“Hmm, you’re so close,” you say, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. His mouth drops open as you bring his tip to your ready sex. Your pussy clamps involuntarily around the swell of his weeping head, and you’re panting into each others’ mouths as your hips sink slowly backward. The fill of him presses up into your belly, and you bottom out with a little flinch of discomfort, settling your thighs over his. He’s long enough that it actually hurts to take him in all the way like this, but you’re willing to put up with it for a minute while you get adjusted.

“Look at you.” Bokuto’s eyes rake up and down your trembling form, keeping time with his strong palms that rub soothing circles into the flesh of your hips. You shift a little, making him twitch and grunt. His thighs strain, struggling to keep from bucking upward against your tender cervix.

He lets out a deep, shaky sigh through pursed lips. “You’re so f-fucking perfect, you know that?”

You’re concentrating on tucking your knees underneath you for proper leverage, but he never fails to make you smile.

“I haven’t even started moving yet,” you breathe, bracing one hand on his shoulder. Once you’re stabilized, you lift your hips slowly forward, letting the thickness of him pull slowly from your slick depths. Bokuto’s head falls back against the pillows, beet red with exertion already.

“God,” he groans, bringing one hand around to your ass. “More, baby.”

You swallow hard, grip his hips tightly between your knees, and swirl your hips in a careful, tight little circle. It’s a subtle movement from the outside, but where you’re joined it rubs the thick ridge of his tip along all your tenderest nerve endings, sending powerful surges of pleasure vibrating into your chest.

Bokuto’s feeling it, too, the hard angles of his jaw standing out as he clenches his teeth. His silvery lashes rest heavily over his flushed cheeks, giving you little more than a bare peek of his dark, tawny eyes with the pupils blown wide in ecstasy.

“Just like that,” he prompts when you angle your hips forward, pinning your abused clit against his pubic bone and continuing to grind greedily over his shaft. He interrupts your rhythm with a sharp little pat to your ass, making your hips jump forward and giving him an opening to lower his chin and seal his mouth in the crook of your shoulder.

“Fu-uck,” you whine, looping both arms under his and clutching tightly at his back as your rhythm grows more urgent. You know how to work yourself to the peak easily, using his powerful body and thick cock to your every advantage.

“You’re close already,” he pants in your ear. “Oh, man, I can feel it. Don’t-“ His hips jerk backward, choking him on a surge of pleasure that washes over both of you.

“Don’t hold back for me, baby. I c’n… take it, yeah, that’s it.”

The low rumble of his voice in your ear reverberates all the way down to the pit of your stomach, cocktailing with the pleasure you’re grinding out yourself, and when he grabs your ass with both hands and rocks his tip against the gooey-sweet spot on your upper wall, you’re lost.

“Bo,” you whimper, grabbing tightly at the muscles in his back as your thighs start to shake. “Fuck, oh, fuck, ohfuck-“

The peak crests quietly between you, but quickly bleeds into every limb. You’re powerless to do anything but cling to him and whine in his ear as your hips stutter and twitch and grind over his stirring cock. Just when you think the wave is subsiding, Bokuto glides his hips beneath yours again and draws it out into a tight, near-painful shudder. Your vision whites out, then flashes black as you squeeze your eyes shut and lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Fuck.” Bo’s cursing as you come back to the surface, humping shallowly into your spent body. The lube you used squelches obscenely with the handfuls of slick your climax brought forth, numbing your used insides to his desperate thrusts. “Fuck, you’re so- you’re so- ohgod, inside, I-“

He goes completely incoherent as he finds his own pleasure, shoving his hips tightly against yours. His balls draw tight beneath you, thighs twitching as thick, heady warmth fills your belly. You’re addicted to the fullness he leaves in you without fail, the mess between you when he goes slack and you draw your hips backward to let his falling erection slide out of you.

Your roommate’ll be back from the library at any second. You should be getting up and dressing yourselves, making some attempt at feigning innocence before she comes in. But the bedroom door is closed and it’s far too easy to tumble back into the haphazard embrace from before, cum collecting sticky and hot between your thighs as Bokuto buries his face between your tits.

“D’you think they’ll stretch?” he mumbles into your skin, once your pulse has finally slowed to its regular pace.

“Hmm?” In your pleasure-addled haze, you don’t follow. Bokuto lifts his face from your flesh, resting his chin gently on your sternum.

“My shorts.”

Right.

“Uh-“ You have to purse your lips hard, to keep the dumb smile from showing on them. You take a slow pass of air in through your nose and lift your fingers to comb soothingly through his sweaty hair.

“We’ll make them fit,” you promise. “Somehow.”

Before he buries his face in your chest again, you catch the pure, blissed smile that stretches his cheeks. He slips his eyes shut, nuzzling you tenderly and kissing the swell of one breast.

“Good,” he sighs. And then, bare-assed, sweaty and sticky, he falls asleep.

You spy the shorts, still lying in a crumpled heap by the bathroom door. You make a mental note to check the brand and sizing later, before he leaves.

You’ll make then fit again.

Somehow.

#haikyuu #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #bokuto #koutarou bokuto #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n

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igotathingforvampires · 3 years

Text

Aro Volturi N.S.F.W Alphabet

CANON DIVERGENT.

Info on Reader: Reader is an Elemental Gift user like Benjamin

CW/TW: a SLIGHT MENTION of assault but NO DETAIL AT ALL (as a SA survivor I do not use this lightly but I do like representation and not having the survivor be that cliche broken doll we end abusers here thank you)

How you two met:

You…..oh you. You’re standing with the Cullens wondering how the FUCK you got here.

Why am I here? What’s with this tiny little kid who can touch me and tell me things. Awe but she’s cute.

You’re just a bored Vampire who knows Carlisle and is Esme’s BFF.

You’re a nomad, and a badass one, see your gift is the Elements like Benjamin, it’s why Amun has his eye on you and is freaked out.

You and Benji are buddies now. Benjamin specializes in Earth and Water. You specialize in Fire and Air.

So now, here you are watching a bunch of cloaked baddies stomping towards you. But Carlisle and you have spoken frequently, the Volturi aren’t bad.

However, they are cautious.

And caution bred by fear is something you know to be wary of.

So you keep yourself a bit behind Carly. Waiting and watching.

The leader— that must be Aro you think, flings his hood back and suddenly you feel your entire chest clench up and a yank within yourself towards him. “Oh what the fuck.” You growl. Glancing UP at the Old Gods you couldn’t help but snap at them “ARE YOU ALL KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! HIM?!”

The platinum haired man barked angrily, “who dares?!”

Aro is too busy glancing at his brother Marcus who’s smiling. He nods at Aro and huffs a bit of a sigh.

The raven haired man turns ever so slowly, casting his red gaze over the crowd and it falls to Carlisle. “Carly.”

“Aro?”

“Who is that behind you.” Aro can feel his chest hurt like a chain is being pulled.

Carlisle looks confused and glances behind him where you are shaking your head face palming—looking embarrassed.

Edward and Bella are utterly confused, before Edward listens to Aro’s and your thoughts and gets a look of disgust, “REALLY.” He barks.

You feel the rage of a thousand suns consume you. “I CAN’T PICK IT YA KNOW AND HEY WHADDAYA MEAN REALLY —ASSHOLE DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MATE LIKE THAT!”

The entire field is utterly still as you’re heaving, standing on your tip toes in front of the bronze haired vampire pointing at Edwards cringing face, “but it’s—“ he starts, you let out a growl and sparks fly off you.

Edward shuts up.

“I will light your ass on fire.” You whisper hiss.

The Volturi are just tilting their heads like WTF.

Marcus is trying not to laugh, Caius has just become stunned glancing between his brother and the woman across the battlefield.

Aro is getting GIDDY.

“And who is the girl.” He asks.

You turn, your hips swinging with attitude and your arms crossing as you scoff. “Psh, get a load of this Mother fucker,” you whisper to yourself glaring across the expanse of space. “HEY. I have a name.”

------

-----

His First Impression:

Of course my mate swears like a sailor.

Is Aro’s first thought.

His next thought is that you’re awful adorable. Awe so lithe and cute and— Much too … hm, much too adorable to be mine I would think how In the —a violent wind kicks up and flames burst out from your body enveloping your form as you take a few steps forward.

Ah there it is.

“You wanna ask me my name— darling.” You smile wide at him.

“Of course,” his purr is laced with annoyance, but he’s far too intrigued. “Who might you be?”

“I’m y/n. No last name, my parents were assholes.” You shrug. “So, we doing this trial or we figuring the whole—“ you wave your hand between the gaping maw of land between you two, “bond thing.”

Aro pauses, a twitch on his lips, “after the proceedings cara mia.”

“Ooo… love me a man that speaks Italian—” You smirk, raising a brow and cock your head to the side.

Aro makes a stifled choked off growl as his eyes go black— thank God he lost the ability to blush as arousal slammed into him like a freight train.

You’re obviously annoyed, and have as Caius mutters ‘more balls than a Christmas tree’ and you are ready for this trial to be over.

Frankly so is Aro he wants to drag you back to Volterra and bring you to heel.

Not that he thinks that’s going to happen.

But he loves playing with fire. And you’re full of it.

He watches you glance at the Cullens and the half-breed. “Alright Nessie come on let’s show him what you can do kiddo.” You scoop the girl up and you and the Cullens walk over with Jake behind you.

-----

When does he know of his feelings?

When within reaching distance you set Renessme down and pat her head, “okay tiny Loch Ness, say hello.”

Bella is panicking, but she trusts you it seems, she better, you have no qualms frying— sans mate— every vampire here. They do their little song and dance. Aro tries to talk about the danger and you feel your temper boil over.

“Darling.” You croon taking a step forward with a sharp but soft smile.

You remind him of a lioness, purring softly but ready to tear into him with one movement.

He raises a brow; you are in 6 inch heels putting you nose to nose with him. “Yes carissima?” He breathes deep and nearly groans out loud, you smell so good, like spring and a heady feminine scent like perfume edged in lilacs and lavender.

“Could you pretty pretty pretty please just keep an eye on little Nessie— I hate to tell you but she’s quite important to me and I can assure you she fits in with humans better than the Cullens do.”

“And if I don’t.”

You let flames dance in your gaze. “I’ll roast everyone here except your brothers and their mates and make you start the fuck over without me.”

Aro’s done.

Cupid has struck him in his dead heart.

He’s never been more terrified or aroused or enraged at once at your dulcet threat purred from such sweet lips.

He wants to grip you by your hair to him, pick you up and haul you to somewhere private and teach you a lesson.

He wants to fight you. And it’s quite clear you’re ready to rumble, though he’s not sure you’d let him win. Or that it wouldn’t end up tangling in a bed somewhere on fire. That’s fine too.

A manic grin spreads across his face, eyes going pitch black as he snatches you up by the waist and hauls you closer loving the startled look in your eyes settling into something dark and wanting. “And if I agree?”

The brothers roll their eyes.

Go figure you’d be as bat shit as he is.

“I’ll leave with you right now.” You give him THAT look matching his almost mad grin.

A low purr echos from him making Bella clap her hands over Nessie’s ears. “Una ragazza così meravigliosa, credo che mi piaccia come funziona la tua mente.” Such a wonderful girl, I think I like how your mind works.

But your plans to drag your mate off end as Alice shows up with her witness right when he’s about to whisk you off for some obvious adult time.

Both of you sigh put out and exasperated.

Yes you just about ended an entire potential threat with batting pretty eyes and coaxing the leader of the Volturi into some fun.

But now that’s ruined because of the psychic. Alice is looking rather embarrassed as the proceedings go. Given that she probably saw how everything was about to go down.

Aro can sense you’re as annoyed as he is, that and you’re not leaving his side. And you don’t mind touching him but you’re not because oh yeah he needs to focus. But oh he can see your hand twitching towards his own.

He can easily turn his gift off and so he does and grips your hand, quickly jerking you to his side.

Electricity lights along your skin at the contact and both of you jolt a moment and glance sideways looking amused.

This was going to be fun.

——

How’d you end up with the Volturi?

Alice and her witnesses ease their concerns about Nessie. Aro placates the Volturi as you linger back behind him a bit. Everyone just poof! Vanishes.

“So ah, can we get my stuff first before you whisk me off around the world?” You ask sweetly.

Aro’s a bit startled, “you wish to leave already?”

You realize he would be willing to stay for a bit and let you acclimate.

“Nah where you go I fucking go, come on baby. Let’s get the fuck outta dodge.” You give him a teasing shove as you walk by making Carlisle’s coven silently shake in mirth at his surprised expression.

Carlisle murmurs, “Good luck Aro.”

“Fuck off Carly.” The King growls back before following you.

That’s all they wrote.

You were in. And you made yourself at home quite easily.

Jane and Alec adore you— you saw them and just SQUEEd. “OMG they’re so DEADLY but so CUTE!”

Jane wasn’t quite sure what to do with you picking her UP and hugging her nuzzling your nose to her cheek, “she’s just a tiny tot of doom I adore it! We’re going to burn the SHIT outta people.”

Alec just sat starry eyed as you ruffled his hair, “I know boys don’t like being picked up.”

Jane had become a koala on you. And you didn’t mind.

Well. You’re Mama now. Aro couldn’t be more pleased as you continue to help develop their skills trying things outside of the box.

See, that’s also a sort of talent you have— you can help people learn how to use their gifts because of how you think. Not a gift per say, but certainly useful.

Jane it turns out can utilize the fire element.

Alec can utilize air.

With you knowing both you’re easily able to teach Alec how to hone his targets and even allow his gift to POP UP near someone rather than from his hands.

Jane is capable of setting shit on fire now.

Aro isn’t sure if he’s proud or worried.

Bit of both. But you are STERN with their use of powers. And when Jane set Felix’s foot on fire she was forced to shine everyone’s shoes in the Volturi in the afternoon and write 200,000 times at HUMAN PACE. “We do not light family on fire.”

She never did it again.

The inner coven loves you. Caius and you are besties Marcus is like a big brother always doting on you. Athenadora and Sulpricia are of course still together as companions, and don’t worry about his ex wife— they were on the rocks she’s ecstatic someone else can keep him in line.

The coven instantly takes to you, in fact you’re now basically Mother to everyone. Scolding, teaching, comforting, you do it all. But you’re also a leader and a ruthless one at that.

A perfect fit Aro thinks.

——

How’d he deal with his emotions?

You are driving Aro FUCKING CRAZY.

Literally mad.

You know how to push his buttons and you are not one to do as told. So for him, he who has anyone bending to his will to see you just cock a brow at him and laugh “awe.”

He wants to choke you half to death.

You are a Queen. He tells himself. It’s to be expected that you’d challenge him.

Sulpricia finds it HILARIOUS and you two are besties. Fuck that’s all he needs. She is ever so encouraging of your independence.

He often finds himself in Sulpricia’s study pacing rampantly, “what am I going to do with her?”

“You know you like it.” Sully says lounging back on her couch. “If you didn’t you wouldn’t be so utterly ass over tea kettle.”

Aro is not good with his emotions when it comes to jealousy. And he is JEALOUS.

You’re perfect to him, utterly beautiful, you are the sun and he Icarus stupidly flying as high as he can towards you in hopes to reach the light.

You’re also inclined to let him touch you whenever you want to express things without using words— and you’ve learned to let him speak to you telepathically as well.

So often you just sit with your pinkies touching on a couch and have back and forth silently except for the occasional twitch on your lips at a humorous comment.

You’ve managed to make him huff a laugh occasionally.

But he is utterly posessive. He does not like it when men stare too long, admiring is one thing, but nothing escapes Aro.

So when a lower guard had been in trouble for an infraction and when you had disciplined him the utter disrespect for a concubine replacement was across Aro’s mind and…welll—

Guard died.

You had just looked startled and gave a ‘oh well’ kinda shrug before touching ARo’s hand. Feel better baby?

Yes you called him baby in private, so modern, and he would NEVER admit he loved it. Baby, darling, love, honey, the list went on and each one twisted his insides into ribbons of absolute adoration.

You had actually taken to the bond so well Marcus had informed him that it was practically cemented.

His only hang up was himself.

——

Who does he ask for help?

Didyme is no longer there— his dear sister, a deep sorrow as he was accidentally responsible for her death.

Marcus however is always there to be the voice of reason, and he sits Aro down and listens to his brother spill his guts. Aro is terrified, he is well aware he is THE monster that makes OTHER monsters keep in line.

But for you to look at him like that? He could never bear it. His heart would break.

Marcus sighs, “Aro come here.” He drags his brother to the training grounds.

Where Aro get’s to see his mate literally tear apart the entire guard with blades…. Did his eyes deceive him— were those made from vampire ash and fangs?!

You pause your onslaught, “oh hi darling!” You prance over and smile, “like them? My witch-smith friend made them for me! Fucking bastards kept coming for me after awhile and ya know I just hate the idea of wasting shit.”

Marcus glanced at Aro and gave him a I told you so.

“Everything okay?” You ask looking concerned. You are dragging him along as he partially willingly let’s you take him to his sister’s gardens. “What’s wrong?”

And so, he exhales and does the one thing he’s never done with his gift.

He touches your hand and shows you his own thoughts.

He expects your recoil. Expects you to shun him. Expects your hatred and braces himself for it.

You gasp and when he’s about to drag his hand away and you grip him tighter. “No don’t…let me…” and so you watch— thousands of years of memories over the course of a week or two. Asking silent questions as the images play, getting silent answers in return.

And so, in return, you show him your human life— a life that had been riddled with abusers, torment and lack of love, the iron in your spine that had solidified your creation when you had dragged yourself from an open alley way at dawn into the sewer system after being left to die being drained by a nomad after a brutal assault. You shared with him that it had taken a lot for you to even move after what had happened.

Esme had found you.

And so your friends made sure you were okay even if you didn’t follow their diet.

You both spend time going over your pasts, Aro gently asking questions and you doing the same to answer as best you could.

It was why Rosalie and you got along so well, there were some experiences one could only understand by going through it. And you both had learned how to cope with the trauma you had.

Aro is patient, both of you taking time to feel through each others wounds, taking time to rework into each others personal space.

Marcus is stunned to tell Aro that the bond is nigh unbreakable after this exchange.

The Kings magically -coughs- big brother Marcus loses his shit finding out and Caius leads the search party with Demetri— cough cough— find the nomad and he’s now in a box limb free 15 feet below the dungeon with a tube connecting him to the surface, his tongue removed and he only gets blood once a year. *Jane lit them on fire multiple times to practice her accuracy and aim*

You find out of course, and smile through the dry sobs as all three embrace you like a big protective group hug. For the first time in a very long time, it’s safe.

Truly safe.

——

What happens when he tells you?

Aro is a man of few words, and honestly not much is needed between you two with the ability to go back and forth with his gift.

So in the middle of a walk in Didyme’s gardens he merely grabs your hand gently and kisses the top of your fingers.

And you’re flooded with his emotions.

The warmth and tenderness and absolute adoration is almost enough to restart your dead heart as venom pools in your eyes. “Aro…”

He loves you, loves you more than his own life, would give anything for you to make you smile.

This isn’t the love that is complacent, to just sit idle and rust away, he wants to chase you for eternity, whatever it takes to keep you at his side.

And you flood him right back— lowering the barriers you had and after a moment he merely leans down and presses his forehead to your own, giving the two of you time to just bask in the warmth of affection that’s swirling back and forth akin to the waves of the tide under the moon and sun at twilight.

——

First Kiss?

The leaders of Volterra were in the throne room, the Queens having their own thrones behind their husbands but visible carved in different woods to represent their personalities with different intricate features much like the brother’s thrones holding different crowning points but all the same color.

Your own is the same color as Aro’s throne, but mingled with mahogany accents. Ruby red stones slotted at the top with a crescent moon and sun carving emboldened with gold spiked halo.

Caius' mate's throne is a pale color, affixed with branches and beautiful earth like tones, complimenting her grounded nature.

Marcus’ Witch Mate is merely embellished in a ash throne, deep red almost black gems and the symbol for the overall witch and vampire alliance above her throne.

With all three positions of Queen in Volterra taken up by a true mate, it is the most stable the Volturi have been in several millennia.

But that day in particular was rough, there were a few traitors that had been brought forward— and one of them had managed to get loose from Felix as Aro had been gaining information lunging for the King’s throat.

You moved so fast no one even saw you as you streaked forward like a ghost and lobbed the vampire’s head off holding a blade made of vampire teeth expertly with an animalistic snarl.

You had positioned yourself in front of Aro, crouched, blade poised and your eyes wide and wild, teeth flashing with a dangerous snarl.

Marcus’ witch had already shielded Aro but paused when she saw how enraged you were. Athena and Sulpricia had faltered, Caius looked utterly proud.

You spun round, dropping your blade— knowing Felix and the others had everything in hand as Aro had reached for you, the two of you locked in an embrace, his hands holding your face still as your own hands grasped his wrists. Foreheads pressed together—

The coven was used to this, a private conversation but you could feel the utter terror that had gone through him when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. If anything had happened to you—he was almost angry at you.

But he could easily sense the rage that had consumed you at the thought of someone hurting him. Despite knowing the guard and Jane would Never allow it, your instincts had taken over.

No one would ever take from you again.

And you had been frightened.

Behind that rage when he got past it was utter fear that he’d be gone and you’d be all alone again all the tender memories would be the last you’d have of him as you gave a dry sob before the venom dropped from your eyes— a true show of vampiric emotion that was a rarity.

“Carissima, no. I’ll not leave you that easily.” He murmured and not giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room kissed you full on the mouth gathering you up in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered half broken against his mouth. “I’m sorry-“

“I know I know, shhh cara mia shhh,” gathering you up he merely flitted out of the room leaving the others to deal with the issue.

Tons of snuggles. He had bundled you up to him in his private rooms and merely kept your hands together enjoying the shared emotions knowing the other was close and safe.

Aro knew exactly how to calm you, he merely showed you all his favorite memories, of the coven, of his travels, the antics his brother’s got up to. He replayed the moment he first saw you.

That always made you laugh of course she swears like a sailor.

——

First Time?

It’s in an elevator.

Okay so here’s the thing. The Volturi have these massive events, and your official coronation happens at one of these.

Aro is so proud.

And so fucking jealous as you are danced across the floor with other vampires— who are oh so respectful and as they should be as Aro watches from the upper floor like an angel of death.

You look stunning, your smile lighting up the entire ballroom, friends from near and far are there— even then Cullens— God bless Carly he even had animal blood brought for him.

You’re dancing around with Nessie laughing and watching the girl child giggle like a fiend before handing her off to the Shifter Aro hated the smell but it was what it was.

Over the course of the evening he was getting awful tired of sharing you. And as the evening wound down to an end you both were just going to take the elevator back up to the private rooms as the Ballroom was on the top floor of Volterra.

The energy crackled in the small space and you both glanced at one another. It was like a short fuse had been lit on a stick of dynamite.

We’re so not doing this in an elevator are we?

You didn’t realize you had said it out loud even as you both gravitated towards one another and his hands tangled into your hair sending gold pins flying to the ground as his mouth found yours and you let out a deep moan as his tongue swiped your lips before you happily opened them.

“We’re going to be patient. Cara mia. ” He said sternly more to himself than you— then groaned when your teeth tugged gently on his bottom lip knowing it drove him crazy. “Sarai la mia morte. Sulla mia tomba scriveranno 'ha giocato con il fuoco ed è perito felicemente’” his voice became heated as his hands moved over your form, “non mi importa più, vieni da me mia fiamma, brucia con me.” You will be my death. On my grave they will write 'he played with fire and perished happily'. I don't care anymore, come to me my flame, burn with me.

His hands were gripping your backside and hauling you up, pressing himself firmly between your thighs before grinding against you. But when his teeth scraped your neck your brain shorted out—

“Oh for gods sake Aro just fuck me already—” your hands were scrabbling at his waist coat and shirt pleased how easily the buttons pinged off the walls of the elevator.

Your mate let out a pleased noise, one that was utterly inhuman when your hands tangled into his raven locks and knocked the golden V pin to the floor allowing the ocean and pomegranate scent of his to curtain you from the world as he bent his head down and kissed you as if it were the last thing he would get to do just then. Right before he smacked his hand against the emergency stop button jolting the ride to the private floor still.

If you thought his kisses were something to be swooning over— because he always knew what you needed.

Well his gift extends to much and he is in tune with it.

Your mind is his favorite place to be, and he brutally uses what he knows to his advantage as his fingers skim up your legs flinging your skirt over your thighs to teasingly grind himself against you till you’re almost clawing at him half feral.

“My pretty little mate—“ he croons at you, “you looked so beautiful cara mia,” kissing down your throat before biting marks into your flesh licking them before continuing on as his teeth jerk the fabric of your bodice and sleeves off not even bothering with his hands. “E tu sei tutto mio, cazzo.” And you’re all fucking mine.

You were busy molding your hands against his form, loving how it was just ratcheting up his half mad with desire motions, twitchy, greedy, desperate to touch, “What was it you joked about that one time?” He was referring to a memory with your best friends over drinks.

You gulped and shivered a bit. “I believe I said sometimes a girl just wants to ahem— get slammed to a wall and fucked stupid?”

He smirked as his hands tore fabric off you letting his fingers to glide along your skin, allowing your own to do the same and showing you know exactly what he liked through the bond of touch.

If you’d been human the air would have left your lungs as he pressed his body tight to your own, pinning you in place letting you feel what you did to him, the hard length of his cock pressed into your belly. “What do you say we take care of that, hm?”

You’re speaking in tongues before he even takes you fully, and roughly, there’s no slow tender love making and frankly you’re just glad for it.

His wild smile sliding into a predatory proud smirk when you’re just a mess; whining at him, begging, pleading, twitching against him and oh you’re just so pretty when at his mercy.

He literally has the tongue of the devil.

“Did I finally break you little one?” He croons despite his rough movements sending you into another shockwave of bliss as your nails make claw marks in the wall.

Fuck he had— you’ll do anything if he’ll just continue.

Your submission is like a drug, he’s mad on it, hands digging against you, making small fissures of cracks along your hips that make you groan gleeful as you push closer for more of his touches.

“That’s right bambi, give me everything.”

That’s all you hear before he’s fucking you into the wall of the elevator, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck just to relish in the pain and pleasure filled noises that escape from you as you beg for more, more, just please give more it’s all you want.

“My good bambi.” He growls as he begins it all over again, rumbling in your ear as your try to escape the onslaught of sensations— but happy you can’t as his grip has you immovable. “You’re not escaping me just yet.”

You’re both a mess, not that either of you care. Adjusting yourselves as best you can—

You’re lucky his private rooms are close and he simply carries you and flits you both into his rooms; you both end up continuing what was started.

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is a touch telepath, he knows exactly what you need.

But he also surprises you with what you didn’t even know you needed.

Snuggles, so many snuggles— Aro is not a tactile person— but with you?

Forget it.

He’s practically melting into your form and trying to fuse himself to you.

Massages, nuzzling your hair, biting.

Lots of biting— but not hard bites, love bites. Pressing his teeth to your skin to leave little imprints that he just can’t get over. You always poke fun at him for it.

Plus let’s face it.

Bite = Love.

He and Caius are on one mind with that.

He also took a note from Marcus and you both enjoy the heat of the baths together after a particularly long rough romp.

Which turns into a bath romp.

Because ahem *REASONS*

“I’m King I don’t need a reason to have you— now come here.” He’ll huff imperiously when you giggle at him as he drags you close into his embrace kissing you.

Okay he lies.

You looked too pretty in the bath.

Aro can’t help himself. That’s the reason.

——

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He is SHOOK when you tell him your favorite thing about him is his hands. You never feel misunderstood.

Even in the rare fights you simply huff and reach out to him, wiggling your fingers with a pleading glance; or if he won’t take your hand you’ll walk over sit in his lap and headbutt your forehead to his like an angry cat.

But usually Aro will take your hand and you both have a deep understanding of where you’re both coming from.

After a few moments it’s settled.

You kiss his hands, he knows you love how he plays you like a finely tuned instrument when alone.

Love when he delves his fingers into your hair and cradles you close even if you’re in the throne room— he’s the fucking king he can do what he likes damn it.

But Aro is startled by this— everyone hates touching him even though he can control his gift, they seem to think that— aside from his brothers and sister in laws— that he just loves to dive into people’s minds for funsies.

No it’s awful. Plain awful. He can barely stand his own mind why would he want to traverse someone else’s?

But that brings us to what he likes about you— he LOVES your head space. When he’s stressed it’s his favorite place to be because you have a vivid imagination, as a writer as well you show him stories you’ve thought of and worlds you’ve created with vivid detail. He finds it quite amusing to use watch your thoughts too on a daily, you like it simply because he’s close.

But aside from that it’s you.

Just You.

Just ALL of you.

He can’t pick don’t make the man pick, he would just keep you near him for eternity which you seem to have no issues with.

———

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically…I am a disgusting person…)

He is quite a posessive person.

Two Words:

Breeding Kink

You’re his and his alone, so the idea of ah— claiming you that way just sends him off into the ether.

The fact that you both have a breeding kink and literally can’t have kids is a GREAT thing because you’ve literally sat there a absolute mess after round five and thought out loud as he tenderly cleans you up, “shit thank god we can’t reproduce because I am 100% sure that’d have knocked my ass up—” which has had him shaking in mirth having to pause to control himself after a few moments.

Beg him for it.

Make that whining needy noise in the back of your throat at him for him to finally give you what you need.

He’ll just lose it, pin you by the throat and well— you’ve broken a few beds this way.

He has no shame.

Just glances at the bed, hits speed dial to the furniture store and orders a new one.

His only other favorite thing with C as he soon found out from O (you’ll see) was he adores when you swallow down everything he gives you. That’s got him rumbling in Italian about what a good girl you are and how much you please him.

———

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a MASSIVE Pleasure Dom. And when I say Dom.

HE GOT DOM ENERGY.

With very mild Sadistic tendencies. (Thanks a lot Caius ya pervy fucker)

However he is also a very sincere soft streak when you’re a very good pet.

He picked up pet play from his sadistic brother hearing him call his amore Bunny. One day down the rabbit hole that is Google and he was hooked.

But he calls you Bambi. It’s an Italian term for baby-girl.

It also works because you become like a damn deer in the headlights when he pulls the Dominant voice on you.

It thrums with a low purr and has the capability to just make your brain go wait what?

HE’S A FUCKING SWITCH.

You had been pissed as shit at him. “I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or fuck you to death!” You paused because you had literally throat pinned him to the wall, the stone crumbling beneath him, feeling the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed nervously.

You were about to let go but saw his eyes had gone totally black and expectant and startled but excited.

He was just as fucking confused as you both calculated in a matter of seconds what had happened.

You were first to catch on. “Oh?….OH...….oooooohhhhhhh ….. you….you son of a….” You sputtered as he got a sly grin, “you can’t just look at me like— you are so ill behaved!!”

He wasn’t far behind and raised a black brow at you looking mischievous, “…..and what are you going to do about it mia regina?”

Next thing he knew he was face planted on his office floor with your boot pressed on his cheek making him groan low. “Gonna make you regret mouthing off to me is what I’m going to do my Aro.”

Edge him. Don’t let him touch you all day till he begs. He loves when you exert your authority especially on him? Oh forget it.

Queen Slay.

Literally you are his Queen and you are the only one who get’s to fucking tell him what to do.

And you ruthlessly do so when he’s in the mood. All you hear is “mia regina?” He’ll croon at you, as your hand comes up and drags him to you by his tie.

“would you like to be of service to me Aro?”

Magic words. He’s done, let him have you and he will literally just focus on your pleasure.

Worship Kink.

You had dropped to your knees at his desk and laid your head in his lap and he almost lost his god damn mind. You purred at him, “il mio maestro”.

Aro .exe has stopped fucking working.

———

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Thanks to the tactile telepathy as well as the fact that he and his brothers have slept their way through history, Aro is a very mixed lover.

When I say greedy as a lover, he wants your pleasure for himself. And will literally drive you to it till you’re sobbing for mercy.

He has none.

But he does take pity on you when he knows you’re truly at your limit with touch.

You weren’t inexperienced but his own experience blew yours out of the damn water. Can literally have you on the edge in mere minuets. And is SMUG about it.

Fucking smug bastard just watching you with that smirk on his face and a ‘well?’ Kinda expression.

You have to beg if you want it.

You have to plead, you have to let him hear you or he’ll just keep going and I quote ‘hmmm I can’t hear you cara mia, you’re being so quiet you know that makes me want to fuck you harder, come now, let me hear you— don’t make me have to drag it from you baby girl. You know I love to hear your sweet sounds.”

Could probably kill you if you weren’t already dead with what he can do with his hands.

His tongue is even better.

When asked which you preferred you had just panted desperately after a hard orgasm, “any. All. Both. God just…holy fuck.”

He cracked up over that. “My poor baby I broke her.”

————

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves having you in his lap.

Prefers to see your face and eyes, seems to need it.

But occasionally he just loves gripping your neck from behind and feeling you gasp against his grip as he slams into you roughly.

Adores anything that has you clinging onto him for dear life.

Likes being in a position to mark you. Favorite thing ever.

You had once tested his patience (willfully hoping for this outcome) a bit too much and he had pinned you completely immobile to the desk of his office and fucked you within an inch of your immortal life gagging you with his black tie.

“you just have to test me don’t you mia regina?” He had growled in your ear leaning over you, his hand crunching the ornate wood to splinters as you keened and whined for him to keep going. “Such a ill behaved thing you are, should just keep you here like this for when I please hm?”

He was not joking, you were kept there quite happily under his desk sitting at his feet your head on his lap waiting and absolutely willing.

He could feel your hands grip his thighs, “quit that I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work—“ his voice teetered off in a guttural growl as he looked down.

You were biting his shirt looking up at him already nudging yourself between his thighs your teeth digging into his trouser zipper and tugging down.

his hands were gripping your hair jerking you up to kiss him deep, a growl against your lips, “Fucking damn it— come here.”

When you can get him to swear which is rare— yeah…

He didn’t exactly sound angry.

But he sure fucked you like he was though.

“This is what you were after hm? You brat!” A harsh laugh as he pinned you down a bit harder, “fine then I should ensure you’re good….and….sated…shouldn’t I bambi?”

———

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very sincere.

Teasing but only in a very sexual way.

Borders on humiliation but he respects you too much.

Very serious though when he focuses on you.

He’s focusing on all the sensations you’re sending him, letting you know what he’s feeling as well which just sets you into the damn ether.

———

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s ARO.

The man is vain.

The man is neat.

Clean and pristine.

He’d give a regal huff of annoyance, “I am not a heathen darling.”

———

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ohhh you wouldn’t know it but he’s such a god damn romantic.

He is. And he MAKES time for you. The schedules are changed so you have time together more often— something that was never done before.

Operas, romantic walks out in Volterra at night.

Sightseeing.

Your favorite was your trip to Germany in the winter with a big cozy cottage and a big fire and lots of bedding to ahem— destroy.

Aro has penguin brain.

He brings you small gifts that made him think of you— you have a bracelet that has special charms he had custom made for you, a lochness monster for when you met, a castle obviously for Volterra, a doe, different tiny items that speckled through your life, each one means something— you hardly ever take it off.

You have a collection of very sparkly stones in many jars that he found on his missions.

They are actually gemstones— insert eye roll— they set off pretty prisms through your shared rooms.

“Aren’t you going to make jewelry of them?” Aro asks.

“No darling they are perfect just as they are.” You smile.

Aro actually has the literal voice of a damn angel.

He sings to you in Italian, soft dulcet sweet tones and dances you around your rooms teasing you relentlessly.

Aro writes beautiful poetry. He will at least write one every few months when inspiration comes to him.

You have your own private box at the opera house. As well as being allowed to fund artists across the world, you’ve found incredible talent on broadway and other venues.

Flowers. Aro ensures care for a private greenhouse for you on the roof, each flower has a meaning, and they all bloom year round given the proper temperatures on the greenhouse. “Why would I send you flowers when they die so easily.” He asks kissing your cheek as you smile over the new blooms. “This is everlasting, much more fitting.” He muses.

All his poetry is in a beautiful book Caius got you for your birthday.

———

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why would he do that when he has you?

He is a patient man.

He can wait.

And he has pristine control over himself.

He is too old for pre-pubescent raging hormone crap.

But he will legit melt for you if you do it for him. Prefers it slow, enjoying your touch and loves to watch as you take instruction.

You’re such a good girl for him.

————

———

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aro is a kinky bastard.

MASSIVE Pleasure Dom.

Worship Kink.

Edging.

Controlling Orgasms *you don’t get to come till he gives permission*

Collaring *your Volturi necklace is LITERALLY on a collar*

Overstimulation. *his gift allows him to know when you’re pushed to hard and when you can take a bit more. When you’re craving that over stimulus, he’ll give it happily. Knowing he can turn you into a babbling speaking in tongues, drooling, eyes rolling back mess just— just— GAH.*

Breeding Kink *Aro has a true breeding kink, ask him to fill you up beg him for it and he’s going to lose his mind.*

Gagging. *he loves to gag you, but also loves being choked by you or you grabbing onto his tie.

Wax Play *you’re a fire elemental user, bringing candles into play is just oh it’s nice. * Prefers to have it done TO him. Your air element gift also allows you to cool the wax quickly and give new sensations.

————

———

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Aro is private, he prefers somewhere comfortable to take his sweet time with you.

Rooms Private, hotel, somewhere he can just lavish you and enjoy everything you can give him.

He’d rather take the time to find a nice comfy setting.

But every blue moon— he’ll just look at you in that specific dress molding to your thighs.

He will drag you into an alley way and just rail the shit out of you keeping you quiet with a firm grip over your mouth as he hisses the dirtiest things in your ear.

You two once had a quick rendezvous in a changing room at a theatre. -shrug- it was empty oh well.

———

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

“Master?” You bat your eyes at him

His nostrils flare as he breathes in and just knows exactly what you want and you smell so fucking good.

The tone you use.

He knows. You want him. That’s it.

Unless it’s a trial— and DO NOT DO THIS BEFORE TRIAL.

And if you happen to when he takes your hand send him your fantasies after seeing him standing there all regal and watching his mouth form syllables so well and how much better it’ll be with his mouth— ahem— busy somewhere else.

He will be so mad at you.

He’s glaring at you behind a mask of calm and you can feel the fucking tremor in his limbs.

You just bat your eyes innocently at him and smile.

His face: you’re in SO MUCH trouble.

Brat energy??? During Trial?!??! Now is that the time to give brat energy!!???

Oh. Oh. oh you are so in trouble. When he gets done with ripping some poor idiots head off— okay not really they broke the rules— stalks over to you; grabs you by your oh so pretty collar, “come with me bambi.”

And just pulls you along to your rooms with you giggling the whole way and practically prancing behind him like a— well like a doe prancing into a lions den.

He’s tossed you over his shoulder once and just flitted out of the rooms into your private chambers, hurling you onto the bed before ripping into your clothing. “You best be ready for your punishment.”

“Oooohhhhhh absolutly master.”

“that’s my girl.”

The coven just rolls their eyes. Aro is less manic with you there and you surprisingly bring ease to the coven— so ya know what if that’s what does it whatever.

————

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation. No.

Impact play is one thing, but to intentionally hurt you no.

If he does impact play one hand is always touching you to ensure you’re okay.

————

———

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving? The man has a wicked tongue.

His oral game is LEGIT.

Will have you in a puddle of twitching ecstasy in mere moments of teasing because he knows where to touch and that’s not just his tongue but his hands.

Will kiss you all over before even getting to the ahem— final destination.

You’re either ready to combust or ready to strangle him when he finally just begins to devour you.

Eats pussy like a man starved but has all the time to enjoy.

Smug as Fuck.

Expect him to just watch you as you’re coming back down from the absolute height he threw you up to and glaring down at his smug grin as he waits before beginning all over again.

Will go all night if you’ve been ill behaved.

Your record is 20 before you BEGGED for a break.

He finally took pity and gave you a warm bubble bath and snuggles and praises.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like receiving, however it was more just a “hm, that’s nice—“

But with you.

Especially when you had decided to walk into his office, lay your head in his lap as you had sat yourself under his desk so he could work while he played with your hair (you have a comfy cushion there who was he to argue if that was the best way to be close and he could get work done??!!)

But his work was abruptly halted when you had nuzzled his cock through his trousers dragging your mouth wide as he became painfully hard in record time.

“what is it you think you’re doing bambi?” He purred looking oh so curious.

“Nothing.” You muffled around him as your teeth found his zipper and trouser buttons with a rather feral sound.

Upon finding out you had no gag reflex and having your nose buried in his pelvis as you moaned around him he was done for and he didn’t even care.

Work was forgotten.

Loves when you pleasure him, but of course has to be in control for the most part.

Buries his hands into your hair and loves throat fucking you, praising you the entire time. “What a good thing you don’t need to breathe dolcezza.”

You had hummed around him ecstatically.

The reward for this is always drool worthy.

Play with yourself as you do and let him see you do so keeping your clothing out of the way and you’ll have him break finally, that cool haughty composure cracking as his gaze goes just utterly uncontrollably wild, his hips moving a bit harder.

————

———

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You both fuck rough.

But you both also love the slow and sensual moments too.

Especially if you have the time to just drown in one another.

It just depends on the situation.

Rough And Fast:

Slow and Sensual is how it usually starts off, he’s so attentive, so soft and cherishes you, that is till you growl at him for more and he has of course no other option but to give you what he wants.

You’re his queen after all what kind of mate would he be if he didn’t give in?

But has today been exceedingly trying for either of you?

Or is your mate quite amped up from a particularly rough trial?

You’ve been pestering him haven’t you? Hmmm.. yeah buckle up.

You’re in trouble and therefore need to relearn where your place is— it’s in your bed, beneath him losing your mind out of pleasure.

And he is all too happy to provide that lesson if you seem to forget.

You try to forget often. You damn brat.

Slow and Sensual

However sometimes he just wants to be gentle. And frankly so do you, you want to just bask in the bond you have and slowly explore all over again despite knowing you have memorized one another to heart by now.

Doesn’t matter, you still find things that surprise you, things that make you smile.

Places that when touched cause a jolt— well that’s new.

“I could spend my entire life mapping out your body carissima.”

“that’s an awful long time in bed.”

Aro would just smirk kissing down your sternum, “oh what a pity— I suppose my brothers shall have to cover for me hm?” Bite marks being pressed into your flesh, “I plan on leaving so many of these that I forget where they are so I can find them later.”

“Such an evil overlord.” But you’re giddy, he’s going to make your entire world tilt again with those slow careful hands of his and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

———

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’d be surprised that such a patient man could be so damn impatient for you.

He’s not as impatient as Caius but not AS patient as Marcus.

So it’s a toss up when he’s twitchy during trials and catches a glimpse of you floating down the hallway in all your grandure and he mentally tosses a coin.

Nope he can’t take it that flash of leg just set him off.

“Excuse me I do belive I remembered something that needs my attention.”

The others just inwardly roll their eyes.

Next thing you know you’re gagged by his tie in his office pinned over the desk with his teeth buried in your neck and frankly you expected this you wore that damn skirt with the slit in it to tease him.

Seeing this just makes him let out a feral noise and a laugh at the end, “oh you planned that hm?” He nibbles the outer shell of your ear, “missed me did you?”

You can only nod as he continues, eyes rolling back as he knows exactly what you’re needing and it’s certainly not gentle right now.

“I have exactly fifteen minutes before my brothers come looking for me— think you can be a good girl and make me come?”

You smirk against the gag in your mouth before purring at him; and it’s off to the races.

He’s in trouble quite often for this— but who’s to argue with him.

He’s king he can do what he wants…. At times….

Okay most of the time.

Plus he’s always in a MUCH better mood.

I wonder Why.

————

———

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

While Aro does love to experiment your safety is his utmost importance.

But he’s a curious bastard and you are right behind him on that scale so sometimes your games become a bit risky.

Never life threatening but oh boy do you two get a grin and just glance at one another, “you know we haven’t done that yet.”

“No…. No we haven’t….”

And that’s how it usually starts.

The worst thing you two can realize is you both utter “I don’t know”.

Well now you have to know if either of you are able to ahem— arrive— under rather dire circumstances such as utilizing your gift (don’t worry your gift doesn’t hurt him he knows how to use fire too surprise surprise.).

You almost had a heart attack though and nearly killed him after.

He just cackled that manic laugh that had you joining in after hitting him several times.

———

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Need I say more than one word?

Vampire.

Aro takes his time most occasions, his slow, slow sweet time.

Now— you’d THINK that the rougher encounters would last a shorter period.

You’re wrong.

So wrong.

He lives for it you’re going to be so happy you’re a vampire and can’t really get sore except for when you both leave cracking handprints on one another.

————

———

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sensory.

Crops, leather gloves, feathers, ben wa balls are huge and he likes that they are silent but give you that teasing sensation. Wax candle play is huge for both of you and you enjoy long luxurious heated baths and sauna sessions with one another.

Ooooo he loves it.

Leather gloves area huge thing for him but not for what you’d think— he likes to challenge himself.

Sure he can know what you’re feeling but he wants to be in tune with your physical responses as well and so occasionally he dons them just to test his knowledge.

Damn smug overlord is just as good and you hate it and now he’s smirking at you while popping his jaw with his hand on his elbow waiting for you to come back into your body.

“Shut up.” You rasp as your head spins.

“I didn’t say anything.” His raven hair slides across his face as he grins wider.

“Your SMUGNESS IS LOUD ARO.”

“Me?! Smug! Why I never…” -cue the dark chuckle before he starts it up all over again, “maybe once more to ensure you remember it’s not just the gifts edge hm?”

“Ohhhh I’m going to die.” But you reach for him biting his leather clad hands.

“No you won’t.” He hums happily, “I won’t let you. You’re not allowed to leave me bambi.”

————

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS SO DAMN UNFAIR.

But so are you.

He’s not as bad as Caius but he is close, and he only does it with LOOKS.

His eyes are utterly expressive, as is that mouth of his, so when he glances at you in just the right way you can feel it drop down in your gut and sizzle.

And he does it during trial. Oh but when you do it you’re in trouble. Psh.

He’ll tease you and brush your hand as he walks by just to know that you’re basically twitching from frustration at the end of the day and about to boil over as he leans down and licks your neck. “Bambi, awe, was I too mean to you? Hmm I should make it up to you shouldn’t I?”

He always makes it up to you.

The man has the best ways to use his mouth aside from running the coven and giving orders.

————

———

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aro was quite clear studies, and private rooms were to be soundproofed.

He’s loud, swearing (which he normally does not do), praising mess of a man, it’s needed.

And you love it.

You can practically feel the vibration in his chest when he purrs at you, less growling, he’s not as violent unless you get him too worked up.

No no no, he loves making you melt, and knows exactly what to croon at you to make your mind go blank.

———

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s more posessive than Marcus. And that bleeds into a protective nature.

A bit controlling, but he knows very well he can’t do that to you as he had to Sulprica. BUT it doesn’t stop him from trying as gods forbid anything happen to you.

Less Jealous than Caius.

But his ah— mood swings can cause for quite an interesting feat.

Since Marcus and Caius were always the brunt of the bashing and warfare, and he the brains behind the operation, many seem to think he has no bite marks on his body due to not being in the fray.

No.

The problem is Aro becomes too violent. Especially because of his talent when touching his victims it tends to become a frenzy. Once he had decimated an entire coven single handedly because the rage they had was swamping him.

His brothers had to pin him down and try to relay calm emotions— his sister Didyme thankfully had been the one to bring him back.

You yourself are now that calm place.

At one point, a guard had been careless enough to have thought about you in ah— that way— Aro was aware you were quite beautiful, your personality no nonsense and many of the guard and lower guard considered you a maternal figure almost otherwise a very good friend.

But this guard.

Ohhh he coveted. What was not his.

But what was worse, was that on the way to the throne room he had spoken to you rather crassly, you merely ignored him; he wasn’t even worth your time. But he had glanced you over as if you were a rather tasty morsel, the imaginings of you spread out beneath him had Aro’s hands cracking his wrists.

You saw the change slightly as you were behind him. His spine went poker straight. “You dare.” It was worse, the guard had actually tried to think of how to lure you away to him— you were a queen so surely infidelity was expected—

The rumble in his chest was a whole new sound you’d never even heard.

Both Marcus and Caius were sitting straight up and narrowing their gaze at Aro before Marcus flitted over and guided you to Aro’s throne placing you on it and standing protectively in front of you.

“Marcus?” you peered behind the eldest king and he hushed you gently.

The guard was torn apart in mere seconds.

It was utterly ruthless and with no mercy.

“People tend to forget Aro is only about a thousand years younger than I.” Marcus muttered.

You blinked. Aro was at least five thousand meaning that Marcus was Six, Caius being the youngest at three.

Aro speared the entire guard with a terrifyingly cold glare before flitting over to you, gripping your head back by your hair and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck with a low growl.

The sentiment was well understood as the entire guard backed the fuck away from the dais— he closed the wound before his head shot up and he snarled at the coven tucking you into his embrace your face buried into his robes. “She is mine.” It was a quiet, soft voice that spoke.

“Aro.” you muffled tugging his sleeve and looking up at him.

He showed you “what he had seen and tilted his head. Would you mind cara?”

You lit the bastard on fire with a scowl aimed at the body winding your arms about Aro’s waist and nuzzling into his solid form.

A soft kiss in your hair, his body relaxing. “That’s my bambi.”

———

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Aro although he is lithe and tall….he’s not exactly easy to handle.

9” decent width, knows how to use it.

Be forewarned, he knows what he’s doing.

Tactile Telepathy, good luck remember to keep your head on straight.

————

———

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s less of a wistful like of yearning.

And more a burning bonfire of desire always in the wing of his mind ready to take over the forefront.

One glance at you and he wants you— granted he thinks it might cool down over the centuries but when you look at him like that and bite your lip and grin.

Nah.

Nope. This isn’t going away. Not at all.

He of course has excellent control so he is able to push other desires to the back of his mind, but once finished you are certainly at the front of the line.

Super high.

You both are insane.

You can be sitting reading and next moment with one small brush you’re gone from the library and you’ve tackled him through the doors of your rooms and pinned him to the floor.

Insatiable.

Good luck!

————

———

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aro LOVES resting with you.

He likes to just lay with his hands on your body and watching your thoughts, you’re his favorite mind to go through and he just adores it.

You both can spend hours like this if you were allowed—

He likes when you drag your fingers through his hair.

Makes him melt.

Kiss across his eyes and kiss his hands as he brushes your mouth with his fingers trying to learn you all over again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.” He murmurs to you lazily. He has you nestled in his arms your head tucked under his jaw.

“That’s fucking fine by me.” You giggle.

He rolls his eyes and huffs a soft laugh kissing the top of your head. “Of course she swears like a sailor…”

#aro volturi

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

hi eve ! i was wondering if you could write a fic where coops are at home just doing stuff and suddenly the electricity goes out because of a thunderstorm like it did that night at dumo's ? and coops just sit there and reminisce ? (man i hope that is how you spell that word, english isn't my first language hahah) idk i just thought that would be neat

There isn’t a lot of sitting and reminiscing, but this prompt was just too cute to pass up. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for making out (courtesy of an anon who was enjoying the hot tub fic) and mentioned future spice

Remus’ hand was halfway to the popcorn bowl when the house went dark. The tv shut off, the dishwasher went silent, and the comforting hum of the fridge disappeared. “Uh. Hmm.”

There was a rustle next to him. “Did the power just go out?”

“I think so. Hang on a second.” Remus stood and padded toward the living room window, wrapping his arms around himself to stave off the chill as their heating cut off; the coming winter would be harsh. Outside, he saw nothing but a row of dark houses and car headlights in the distance under the place traffic lights should have been. Frost crept along the corner of the windowsill as his eyes adjusted. “Yeah, our whole block is out. There’s probably nothing we can do except wait for it to come back.”

Sirius hummed from the couch and opened his arms. “Nothing?”

“Not a thing,” Remus sighed, grateful for the darkness hiding his smile as he settled back down.

Sirius laughed and pulled him down by the arm, spreading his thighs so Remus could lay between them on his chest. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Do you?” Remus asked, only inches from his mouth.

“Mhmm. Can’t have you getting bored, can we?”

“Oh, no, definitely n—“ Remus’ words were cut off by warm lips and he smiled as Sirius’ tongue swept forward. A hand snuck up his shirt and he nibbled Sirius’ lower lip, drawing a low laugh from him; Remus set his elbows on either side of his head and wove his fingers into Sirius’ soft hair.

“Off,” Sirius mumbled with a tug to his tshirt.

“Pushy, pushy, pushy,” Remus tsked, though he separated for long enough to reach behind his neck and pull it over his head. The fabric of Sirius’ long-sleeve rubbed against his chest as he laid down and muffled a moan into his mouth, feeling him melt as Remus tugged his hair lightly. “Yours, too.”

Sirius’ pout was almost audible. “I’ll get cold.”

“I can keep you warm,” Remus said with a sly smile, drumming his fingers on Sirius’ ribcage. He skimmed a thumb over his nipple and laughed when Sirius’ breath caught. “Please?”

Sirius huffed and wiggled around until Remus—being the most accommodating boyfriend in history, thank you very much—sat back to straddle his waist and occupied himself by tracing Sirius’ abs until strong hands hauled him back down into a fervent kiss. “I love it when you ask me for things.”

“Hmm, really?”

“Makes me feel useful.” One hand came up to cradle Remus’ cheek, but the other wandered down his spine and only stopped once Sirius had a solid handful of his ass to knead.

Remus let out a harsh exhale into the side of his neck and pulled Sirius’ thigh up, relishing in his soft noise as he began rubbing the outside through his sweatpants. “This feels familiar,” he practically purred.

“Does it?”

“Making out in the middle of a dark and stormy night with no lights on? Now, where have we done that before?”

He felt Sirius’ pulse give a hard thud under his own. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“One year.” Remus felt some of his blinding want smooth out into affection and kissed the corner of Sirius’ mouth. “And a couple weeks, of course.”

“We should celebrate—“ Sirius nipped his lip and pushed down on the small of Remus’ back. “—more often.”

“Monthly anniversaries.”

“Does this mean we get to have sex tomorrow night after I get a hat trick?”

“It’s Kasey’s birthday party tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Absolutely.”

“Fuck yeah,” Sirius said under his breath, though Remus could feel him smiling. They broke their kiss for a moment to laugh, but quickly returned, much slower than before.

“If we do this right, I get to wake up when you come back to bed and kiss you stupid without any warning.”

“Deal.”

“And you have to cuddle me all night.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

“Just making sure.”

Remus tucked his face beneath the hinge of Sirius’ jaw and breathed deep as he sucked a small hickey into the shallow dip—he smelled like buttery popcorn and laundry detergent and home. His broad hands ghosted across Remus’ back before pulling him away by his hair to press another kiss to his mouth; he gasped as his stomach swooped. “What do you want to do?”

“This,” Remus managed between kisses. There was an urgency, but not for anything he could name. He wanted the closeness and the quiet of the night.

Sirius waited for a moment. “Anything else?”

He was tempted to say yes, but that would involve more fumbling and possibly even—god forbid—leaving the couch. Remus shook his head and tilted Sirius’ chin up with his finger. “Just this.”

“Okay,” Sirius said, sinking back into the cushions. He smiled into Remus’ next kiss and wrapped both arms around his back; he was hard against Remus’ hip, but didn’t grind into his thigh at all.

“I love you,” Remus mumbled.

“Je t’aime aussi.”

“Are you comfy?”

“Hmm, let me think.” Sirius’ mouth trailed down his cheek and neck before settling near his collarbones. “Laying on my couch, in the dark, with my incredibly sexy boyfriend on top of me just waiting to be kissed after putting up with me for over a year…yeah, I’m pretty comfy.”

“I don’t put up with you,” Remus scoffed, leaning his head to the side so Sirius had more space to work. “I love you. There’s a difference.”

He closed his eyes as tongue and teeth lavished his pulse point, sending a shock all the way to his toes. The winter cold was the last thing on his mind—he was warm everywhere, though the involuntary shiver when Sirius blew gently on the hickey he left was a greatly-appreciated exception.

“You’re sure you’re okay with not doing anything right now?”

“I was promised sexy times tomorrow.” Sirius gave his ass a playful squeeze, accompanied by a nibble to the hollow of his throat. “We have to follow tradition, mon coeur.”

He bent down to Sirius’ ear with a grin. “If the power stays out, we could do it right here. No curtains, no lights on, right in front of that big window.”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius said on the tail end of an exhale.

“We could.”

“I know, that’s the problem.”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Despite his words, Remus felt himself succumbing to the cocoon of shadows around them and slid his hands under Sirius’ wingbones for a cuddle. He had already been drowsy when the lights went out, and being that close to the most comforting person he knew certainly hadn’t helped, no matter how horny they were. “We can pick this up tomorrow night? Gives us plenty of time to brainstorm.”

Sirius’ chest buzzed underneath him before he nosed along Remus’ cheek for a kiss. “Sounds perfect.”

“I can call the electric company and tell them to keep our block’s lights out,” Remus suggested.

“Love it.”

“We should go upstairs, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t care, as long as I get to do this when we get there.” Sirius’ accent had thickened over the past half hour and Remus soaked it in like a sponge.

“Such a stickler about tradition,” he teased, resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder; the couch wasn’t quite wide enough for them to fit side-by-side. Not that he was protesting, of course.

A beat of silence passed between them. “If we go upstairs, we can make out properly without falling off the couch.”

“Oh, thank god,” Remus said immediately, stumbling to his feet and dragging Sirius after him. With any luck, the power would be out long enough that they wouldn’t be able to go anywhere for days.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #making out #rated m #power outage

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suchagallabitch · 2 years

Text

your untouchable burning brighter than the sun

Ian and Mickey wake up at the Alibi the morning after their first-anniversary party. Mickey thinks Ian looks beautiful in the sunlight.

based on the word prompt: sunshine by @gardenerian

Read on AO3 or undercut!

Sunlight

/ˈsənˌlīt/ noun

direct sunlight unbroken by cloud

Ian and Mickey’s first-anniversary party went down in Gallagher history as one of their best parties ever. For the first time in what seemed to be forever, all bad blood was forgiven. No sibling rivalries or screaming matches broke out. No verbal reminders of past childhood hurt or uncomfortable thoughts of the future were brought to light. Just music, joy, family and of course, a lethal amount of alcohol.

After the Tesla burnt, the fire department and tow trucks eventually came to the hipster's rescue, shooing everyone to get out of the way and go back into the bar. Nobody had to be asked twice.The booze was starting to settle deep in everyone’s bones, feeling loose but still lucid enough. They were pleasantly surprised by Arthur who had ordered a catering amount of food, starving. He said it was a gift to the husbands but since he didn’t know them, no one really bought that excuse. Carl drunkenly exposed his partner saying how Arthur hated all the Polish food and really he wanted to impress everyone around him as he seriously considered buying the building.

The good mood of the kind gesture followed through. A musical flow developed in everyone after another shot set in. Debbie drunkenly sang the lyrics out to ‘A Thousand Miles’.

“Making my way downtown” She freely wiggled around, arms wrapped Franny to her chest. The little girl laughed and laughed as her mom pulled her away and spun her around.

“Walking fast faces pass and I’m homebound!” Tami joined in across the bar. For just a moment the hostility between the two was completely dissolved.

Everyone else eventually joined in on the impromptu a capella karaoke for the second time that night. Ian included, completely hammered off of four beers- the wonderful side effect of his medicine cocktail.

“Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles, If I could just hold you tonight” Ian crooned as the song came to an end. He grabbed Mickey’s hand and the two drunkenly danced around the bar's empty space. At one point Ian knocked Mickey into the pool table. Mickey laughed, clinging onto Ian’s jacket, the two impossibly close. Lips left lingering soft kisses anywhere they could land. No rush or hungry need to take it further, just there soaking up the love. Ian’s hand’s settled to grab Mickey’s head, holding him in place. Sometimes Ian needed a physical reminder that Mickey was actually there, that he wasn’t going to wake up and have him gone. But Mickey was there alright. His lips were desperate to find a place on Ian’s skin anywhere they could.

“Hey, I know it’s your party boys but don’t you be fuckin in the middle of my bar! I will kick your sorry asses out!” Veronica yelled in their direction, more occupied with the drink she was pouring than actually carrying out her threat.

Mickey’s lips were still pressed against Ian’s jaw. He snorted, breath reeked of alcohol, hot against Ian’s stubble. Mickey dissolved into a laughing mess, looking up to meet his husband’s eyes. Ian looked happier than he had in a long time, Mickey made sure to cherish the look on his face, keeping it pressed firmly in the back of his head for the rest of time.

Everyone around them was chattering and dancing and laughing. Even Liam had lightened up, having some faith that Frank was okay out there.

The night dragged on and on. Lip and Tami were the first to leave. Lip stepped in once he saw that Tami was getting a little sloppy. Hauled her, Liam and Freddie off for the night. Debbie was next. Franny had passed out on one of the bar’s back booths around midnight. After Debbie had thrown up in the bushes -Veronica made her go outside, she didn’t need the stench of vomit ruining her chances of selling- she also decided it was a good time to leave.

Slowly the rest of the bar patrons and the polish dancer's Mickey had hired trickled out between two and three am.

That left only Tommy, Carl, Kev, Vee and of course, Ian and Mickey in the bar. Kermit was there too but he was passed out, slew across the pool table.

“Hope he dropped dead the stupid motherfucker” Mickey spat his way, swaying with Ian once more as their celebratory night came to an end.

Ian and Mickey had snuck away to have a quickie, took them a few minutes of readjusting their clothes to realise everyone else was gone. “I’m going to sleep” Vee pointed a shaky finger at them. “Y’all better not be fuckin in here again, you hear me?” Her eyes were half-closed and heavy-lidded, barely standing upright.

They both gave her a nod, trying not to dissolve into nothing but drunk giggles again. “Good, lock the door when you leave” she dropped her finger, turning around to go to the back. Kev and the twins were in the room upstairs since their house was mostly packed up and neither parent was sober enough to make the walk home. She intended to join them. She wobbled up two of the steps holding onto the railing for dear life. Then her voice sounded one last time before she was gone, “And make sure Tommy doesn’t drink me out of money here!”

Both men looked over to the aforementioned Tommy. He was completely gone. Body stumped haphazardly across the floor. Kermit on the pool table was directly above him. For a second Ian swore he could see Kermit’s drool land dead centre on Tommy’s wrinkled forehead.

Ian gave a little snort at the scene, waving to Carl as he walked out the front door. Then his attention was back onto Mickey.

They were way too drunk to drive, way too stupid to remember Uber existed.

At some point in the night, they figured that sleeping in the back of the ambulance was their game plan. The mattress was still in there and despite the extra furniture that cramp the place up, they had slept in worse and tighter situations before. So the rig was a great place to sleep until the morning came. Problem was, they didn’t make it that far.

“I fuckin love you so much” Ian’s rough hands manhandled Mickey to face him once again. Their lips crashed into each other. Ian felt Mickey repeat the affirmation against his lips. Satisfied, Ian gave one last drunken smile before he folded over, sitting in the dead centre of the ground.

“The fuck are you doing?” Mickey asked but took no time in following his husband’s move.

Ian shrugged, falling backwards. His back hit the wooden floor with a noticeable ‘bang’ . That was gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning but Ian didn’t care he was too drunk, too happy to care about anything but the feel of Mickey’s hand reaching out to grab Ian’s thigh. Mickey followed Ian’s lead laying in the space next to him, albeit a little gentler. He scooted into Ian, both staring up at the water stained ceiling.

Mickey didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was Ian’s arm grabbing his shoulder as the ginger placed one last kiss on Mickey’s brow. A small undetectable ‘thank you’ followed as Ian pulled away, laying straight again.

Then just like that, it was morning again. A golden hue engulfed the dingy bar as the sun poured into the room through any crack it could.

From the window directly to the right of the sleeping men, behind them from the upper window of the booths as well as the paint and grime-covered front windows and door. Mickey wiggled uncomfortably as the sun attacked him. He couldn’t remember one time where the bar had so much natural light, he figured it was probably his hangover that made him feel the light settle in around him intensely.

Mickey woke up before Ian, that rarely ever happened. He gave a huff, which hurt his incredibly dry throat. Arm haphazardly slinking up to block the sun, still arm muscles screamed at him in pain. He shielded his sensitive eyes as he yawned awake, fighting his body for consciousness. The first thing he noticed was how uncomfortable he was. The sun seemed to have a vendetta against him, not relenting any, even with his hand pressed up against his forehead. Warm rays flowed directly into his eyes, making his hangover headache all that much worse. He tried to sit up, took him a few tries between the lack of support and Ian holding onto him. He finally managed, moving to stretch his neck he felt his spine crack in eighty different places. Fuck his back hurt. They were fucking idiots to spend the night camped out on the sticky bar floor. Ian was still fast asleep beside him. He laid on his back pretty much unmoved the entire night. His neck had rolled over to the side, his right cheek pressed against the cold dirty hardwood floors. He had a small wet spot slightly off the centre of his chest. Mickey figured that’s where his head was. So he tended to drool a little, Ian’s shirt would be fine.

He wanted to let Ian know how much he resented him for dragging him down with him but he stopped himself half way through the action, arm raised above him, mouth agape. The arm that’s purpose was to shake Ian awake limpy fell back to his side, lips pressed tightly together as he looked down at Ian. the soft lines of his face, the slight lip curl as he smiled in his sleep. The pure annoyance he had just felt completely dissolved into thin air. His breath hitched a little as Ian’s nostrils flared, a little groan pushed out of his lips as he shifted. Mickey figured that his weight not pressed against Ian was going noticed finally. His hand was still on Mickey. His fingertips sleepily pressed against Mickey’s hips. Mickey had half the nerve to lay back down against his husband, no matter how uncomfortable but he couldn’t seem to move. Completely frozen in place as he watched Ian. He looked gorgeous under the sun’s light.

Mickey always felt that when the sun rained down on him it made him appear harsher. Bright blue eyes with no detectable pupil, jet black hair that sucked in the light, ragged clothes that were exposed for how torn and grimey they really were.

Ian on the other hand was the complete opposite. He glowed under the sun’s warm light. Skin vibrant with colour, freckles peaking anywhere they could, consuming the boy's flesh with the soft small dots. His eyes were always lighter in sunlight, more of a bright green than anything. His red hair glowed mercilessly. Mickey always thought that Ian looked beautiful in the sunlight. That he was the type of person that an artist would see passing on the street on a summer day and stop because his beauty needed to be captured and saved forever.

He was glistening in the sun, golden. He looked untouchable.

He fought and tore and shook that last thought from his head because they weren’t true. Because he wasn’t untouchable. Ian was Mickey’s for the rest of time, and he was Ian's. Ian was his husband. Had been for an entire year and a day. It felt good to remember that fact. But Mickey needed it to be more than a thought, he needed to touch Ian. Even though Mickey had touched him millions of times before, in that moment his skin was burning, Ian’s soft skin the only cure.

His hand was wobbly as it extended outward, partly from the lingering effects of all the drinks he had from the night before, partly from the pain in his aching back but he didn’t care. He was so caught up in Ian. Had been for a whole decade at that point. He needed to feel his husband’s soft skin against his fingertips if it was the last thing he ever did.

His body leaned on his right arm, wrist throbbing in protest from the sudden weight being put on it. He didn’t care. His free hand was still on Ian’s forehead, wiping away the sweat coated hair that stuck to him. Finally, Mickey felt whole again, touching Ian.

His hand seemed to stop shaking as his fingers landed comfortably on Ian’s sunkissed skin. He felt stabilised. He remembered all the times he had done that very same move over the years. Back when his feelings for Ian left him confused and even conflicting at times. Touches were fleeting. Fingertips ghosted over Ian’s hair in secret. Ian was always asleep when the touches of vulnerability came. The gestures were fast and jagged so Ian wouldn’t stir. So that Ian didn’t know Mickey was even there. But now he felt so different. Because he knew that wasn’t the case anymore. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that he loved that man. Mickey needed Ian to know that he was there.

Mickey tried not to reminst on the past. There were only a handful of good memories surrounded by a sea of hurt. But once those old memories reared their ugly head, it was hard to stop the flood.

Mickey thought back to the Alibi. How the old bar had been there for so long. Predating him and his entire family. Terry would spend more of his time sitting on one of the bar stools bitching at Frank than he did at home with his family. Mickey was incredibly thankful for that.

He started frequenting at the Alibi when he was eleven, following his older brothers in, bringing Terry another beer. He continued to go there since then as Kevin was the only bar in town to serve the clearly underage kid. The Alibi had so many toxic memories. Yevgeny's baby shower afterparty was the most prevalent one. But Mickey figured maybe it was a whole full-circle moment there.

When he was young he got his brains bashed in and bloody for being gay. Now his entire extended family used the same venue to celebrate his marriage to a man. Maybe that was growth. Or maybe it was the sunray penetrating his already pickled brain to get him to think it was funny. All the same, he was glad that Ian was there lying beneath him.

He was proud of his accomplishment. Being able to pull off the entire surprise party without Ian suspecting a thing or the Gallagher’s running their big stupid mouths. It was a new development, that he found himself craving doing things for his husband. Like it was a little game. Seeing if he could outdo himself once more. Because, as cheesy as it was, Ian was his sunshine on a dim day.

Mickey wished he could tell Ian how beautiful he was. Looking back he supposed he could have, the only thing holding him back those days was himself. He just couldn't bring himself to say those words. Maybe one day. He thought. He had already come so far, he was sure that he could grow more. Instead of declaring his love out loud for his husband's incredible beauty Mickey just smiled to himself. He guessed he didn’t need to keep those feelings buried away but he also couldn’t really vocalise all those thoughts. His whole life consisted of moments where he wished he could tell Ian things but something deep down inside of him always stopped him.

“Fuck” Ian groaned, finally starting to stir under Mickey’s loving touch. “Mick?” His searching voice was raspy, sleep riddled and a little confused.

“Right here tough guy” Mickey’s voice was gentle, he didn’t think he could bring his voice to be any louder if he tried. Hearing his husband’s voice Ian’s eyes finally opened, neck cracking as he blinked up at Mickey, vision obscured by the light ringing in from beside him.

“Fuck, we fell asleep here” He yawned, bawled fists raising to rub his tired, strained eyes. Normally Mickey wouldn’t waste a breath to snark back a “yeah, no shit” but he felt himself coming up short. Maybe all the partying wore on his ability to communicate or maybe the now year of marriage was making him sappy. Regardless, he ignored the urge. They stayed quiet, Ian pulled his hands over his eyes as the sun poured in. Mickey felt himself growing a little sad that he couldn’t see his face anymore

“Hey man,” Mickey crocked softly, the hand previously on Ian’s temple grabbed hold of his husband’s clunky watch, forcing Ian’s hand back down to his side. There was his beautiful face again. It took a second before Ian’s eyes focused on Mickey, a groan of protest as light hit him again.

“Look at me?” His hand pulled Ian’s face in his direction, away from the window. Ian leaned into the touch, a soft, barely traceable smile falling onto his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut once more, adjusting to the new light level. Then his green fell upon Mickey’s blue.

Mickey swallowed hard, trying to ignore the feeling of his heart beating through his throat and teeth. “You look really beautiful right now”. He said it. Took Mickey a moment to register that he actually did. But fuck it, he didn’t have to hide his feelings from anyone, not himself and especially not Ian.

Ian just huffed, a smile brighter than the sun growing, consuming all his features in its light. “Sap” his hand reached up from against Mickey’s hip up to his lower stomach, his fingers gave a little stroke.

Mickey leaned down, straining his neck to place a sweet kiss on Ian’s mouth. The kiss was gentle, but still full of passion. The unconditional love was like a light passing through the both of them.

When he pulled away he noticed Ian’s eyes were still closed, the faintest lovestruck smile took permanent residence between two rosy freckled cheeks.

Mickey hit the top of his shoulder gently. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me here Gallagher. Got a whole ass apartment to sleep the rest of the day in”

“I’m not, it's just so fucking sunny in here”. Ian’s smile deepened as he peeled one eye open slightly to look up at Mickey. As long as Ian was in Mickey’s life, no matter how dark the room, that statement remained true.

#🧑‍🌾🍅👨🏻‍🦰#elle writes #gallavich #gallavich edit #gallavich fanfic #gallavich oneshot #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless us

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thewheezingwyvern · 3 years

Note

Heres a challenge. Pixie/fairy Dabi, or even angel dabi! Something uncharacteristic for his personality xD

Oooh Nons lemme tell you I had a blast with this one. Tickled my brain just write that I was able to just bang this out in a few hours. Gotta give a shout out to @trafalgar-temptress for helping me brainstorm on this. Really helped me get my creative juices flowing juuuuuuuuust right.

ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪

Yandere!Angel!Dabi x F!Reader

Kinks/Warnings: Noncon (implied and groping), imprisonment, kidnapping, nudity

As you can see by the warnings this is dark adult content. Minors DNI.

The first time you had ever seen him, it was next to Shouto and the most striking thing about him was his eyes. Brilliant hued sapphires that were more vivid than the sky. Ethereal almost. But every time thereafter they seemed to glow a little brighter. A little darker. A little less holy in their shine. They were almost too much to look at, blinding as they were bathed in sacred light. Shouto especially. Even his feathers shone almost like mirrors catching and magnifying the moon’s rays until they were searing.

But Touya, his light was more muted. Still bright but easier for your eyes to handle. That should have been a sign to you, for the easier an angel is to look at, the farther from grace he has become. And Shouto’s older brother became easier and easier to watch with every passing meeting. By the time you learned the truth about him it was already far too late.

The first time he saw you, it was hatred that pulsed through him. Always the favored one, you were just one more pretty thing that his brother got to have. Another way that Shouto was “better” than him. Thoughts of murder curled in the front of his mind, watching your broken mortal body fracture beneath his rage until you were nothing but a splintered wreck for Shouto to see. Until he noticed that you looked at him far more than his perfect sibling. That was the single drop of poison that bloomed in the wine, steeping him in more greed, lust and envy than he had ever tasted before.

In a way, you were the final shove to Touya’s fall.

The crashing sound of tumultuous waves against a rocky face was the first thing to greet you when you woke. Brine and breeze drifted in and wrapped around your prone form huddled under a thin blanket. The air was filled with a moan, a mournful howl that seemed to be crying for you as you stirred. You were no longer at home in the safety of your own bed, that was apparent when you drew more into consciousness and found yourself curled on a pile of thick pillows. But the detail that struck to your heart that you weren’t home was what you saw first.

Golden bars inlaid with pearl.

They wove intricately into a gorgeous dome, twisting into a cage to keep you confined as the ocean crashed in the background. Beyond the confines of your prison you could see the open mouth of a cave that you had been tucked away into, one that opened out to face the wide open sea. Even from your spot tucked back in the corner you could tell that it was far too high for you to risk jumping even if you did manage to escape your cage. Your prison should have been a dank, dark and wet place but there were braziers placed in various nooks, burning with holy fire to help sheath the cave in a warmth that kept it cozy.

Lanterns were strung into the roof, also flickering with sacred fire to help ward off the damp. There was even some chairs, a plush rug and an exquisite tapestry strung up on the far rocky wall. Had you not been locked up, silver shackles also twisted around your ankles to further trap you, you might have enjoyed this space as a little hide away from the world. There wasn’t much to do since you were alone and the cage was far too strong for you to force open on your own. So all you could do was wait.

When the sun was sinking beyond the line of the horizon, Touya finally appeared. A dark glee curled in his chest when he saw the sheer look of relief that washed over your face when you caught sight of him. Already he could taste the hope bursting from you, a sweet little treat for him to savor before he got to rip it from your grasping hands. You collapsed against the cage, fingers wrapping against the bars as you peered out at him with teary eyes.

“Touya, I’m so happy it’s you! I don’t know how I got here but I’m glad you found me! You have to get me out of here.”

“Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll let you out.”

Hope was also the thing that blinded you from the wicked glow in his eyes, the slow lap of his tongue across his lips at the thought of you realizing far too late that you were trapped by him when he held you against him. Relief was the next thing that blinded you when he unlocked the cage, completely glossing over the detail that he had the key in his pocket. Touya folded you up into his arms when you collapsed against his chest, sobs wracking your body, feathered wings arching to cover you.

“Shouto must be worried sick!” you muttered into his chest, “How long have I been gone?”

“Two days. He’s losing his mind right now.”

Your face was buried into his chest so you couldn’t see the razor grin that had split across his gorgeous face. For good measure, he cupped a hand to the back of your head, murmuring soft comforting words to you as you quaked in his arms. It was important he savored this. It was going to be the last time for a long while before you would willingly touch him again.

“Please take me home…”

Touya chuckled darkly, “Awww you don’t like it here?”

He watched you lift your tear stained face up, staring up at him with bewildered eyes. A thumb swiped gently at the stroke of your cheekbones before hooking down to trail along your jaw. Confusion mottled your expression before the first prick of fear flickered in your eyes. The way your mouth hung open made him want to kiss you breathless, crush you to him until you were pounding at his chest to let you go and even then go further.

“No! Why would I want to stay here in a cage?!”

“But you look so pretty in there, Dollface.”

The dark angel captured your wrists in his hands as you started to back away from him, hauling you closer. Fear burst even brighter in your eyes, your whole form quaking in his grasp. The sight made his cock twitch, breath panting ragged from his lips as you squirmed.

“T-Touya? This isn’t funny! Take me home.”

“Sorry babes. This is your home now.” the way all the hope withered in your eyes when you realized he was your captor had his blood running hot, “Poor little Shouto is just going to have to do without.”

Touya dipped his dark head down before he started leaving scorching hot kisses to your exposed neck. You trembled and thrashed but you just did not have the strength to break free of him. Just how he liked it. Roughly he whipped you around and pulled you back to chest against him, hooking his left arm around your arms to imprison them behind your back. A whimper escaped you as his free hand closed over your neck in a warning grip before sliding slowly down towards your collarbones.

“St-stop it! Touya, please!”

“God’s not here, sweetheart. So you don’t have to pretend to be so pure and innocent now. I saw the way you kept your eyes on me more than Shouto. He was too bright. Too pure for you to handle. Fact is, you craved a bit of darkness didn’t you?” he whispered wickedly into your ear, a hand groping at your right breast through the silky shift you were clad in, “My brother doesn’t deserve you and I’ve decided that I’m going to keep you. You’re mine now.”

A finger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silken fabric, pulling a choked cry from your throat. A rock hard cock rutted against the curve of your backside, summoning up his own groan of pleasure. At first he had wanted to steal you away from perfect little Shouto, the shining son, out of spite. To take away one of the things he wanted the most and wreck you. But the more time went on, the more Touya wanted you for himself. Why break such a delicious creature when he could just take you and keep you? It would stroke the wicked green eyed devil that had started to grow within his chest and also lash out the prodigal son.

“Touya please don’t do this!” you begged, a loud moan escaping you when his hand shot down to rub against your clit, “Ah-! Please! I-I won’t tell anyone if you let me go-”

The sounds of your begging unleashed a clash of emotions in him. On the one hand, hearing your voice break and plead him made his dick twitch against the curve of your ass. It was a delicious little sound and he wanted to hear more from you. But it also sparked a deep rage in him. Touya went through all of this trouble, stealing some of Heaven’s prized metal work to fashion a cage for you here. Spent months scoping out the perfect place to keep you so you couldn’t escape and no one could find you. He had even taken the extra steps to try and make it comfortable.

“Ingrateful whore.” he snarled, tearing open your shift to bare your form to the seaside air. Any trace of gentleness he had shown before evaporated when he shoved you face first against the side of the gilded cage, “Take a good long look at this cage. Because this and me is the closest you’ll ever get to those pearly fucking gates again.”

You wondered where it had all gone wrong. Wondered how he could do something so awful to you and his brother. He was an angel, one of the holy ones, it wasn’t supposed to be this way at all. Shouto made it easy for you to forget that they could fall just like anyone else. That they could be fallible and prone to corruption.

Afterall, every demon is an angel that’s fallen from grace.

((Want to participate in Arcane April? Check out my post here about the event and send in your requests! One day left!))

#Dabi x reader #Dabi x you #Dabi x y/n #Yandere!Dabi #Angel!Dabi #MHA #BNHA #nsftumblr #my writing #ArcaneApril #Anonymous

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queensoybean0724 · 3 years

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Succession Chapter 3 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Here’s chapter 3! I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Succession Chapter 3

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: PG-13 for language and possible kidnapping trigger warning (this is a slow burn, but it will get sexy and spicy later on)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary. While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter 3

“Stop squirming!” Heisenberg growled as you kicked your legs and bucked your body. Uttering a curse under his breath, he slung his hammer to the ground, whirled your body to face him, and threw you over his shoulder, picking up the hammer and dragging it in the snow.

You did not know where he was taking you. It felt as if he had been carrying you for a good fifteen minutes. The scenery going by was the same as what was at the crash site: nothing but snow and dead trees. You pushed your hands to his back and tried to look around desperately for another person to call for help. Unable to find any source of assistance, you did the only thing you could...kick your legs and beat your fists against his back.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” Heisenberg laughed, his grip on your legs tightening. His voice held such confidence and self-assurance that you wanted to slap the fuck out of him.

You looked down to the ground and noticed that the snow and dirt gave way to cobblestones. Looking around, you saw that he was walking across a bridge. To your left were mountains with a cascading waterfall. The wind caught sprays of mist and you felt the ice cold stinging your face.

“Home sweet home, pussycat!” Heisenberg bellowed. You heard the opening of a gate as you tried to turn around to see where he was taking you.

“Put me down!” you shrieked, swinging your leg forward and kicking him square in the stomach. A loud oomph rushed from his mouth and he lurched forward, dropping you forcefully on your ass. Pain shot up your body. You squirmed and cursed as you grabbed your butt, rubbing the pained area.

“Come on,” Heisenberg said, grabbing your arm and pulling you up, “you can’t just lie on the ground all day!”

You tried to dig your heels into the ground to stop him when you looked up and saw the building before you. A bleak factory with tall smoke stacks stood like a monstrosity with the snowy mountains in the background. An array of scrap metal littered the grounds around the building. Heisenberg pulled you towards a pair of sliding doors in the front.

Despite the fact that you and Heisenberg had yet to reach the building, the doors opened on their own. The distant sounds of chains and metal could be heard deep inside of the factory and you wondered if there were others working. Maybe someone would feel sympathy towards you and help you escape or call for help. He pulled you over the threshold and into his factory.

With a sudden quickness, you jerked away from his grasp and tried to make a break for the doors. They swiftly shut and trapped you inside. You looked around wildly as Heisenberg laughed before you, knowing that you were stuck. Not one to give up so easily, you spotted stairs going down to the lower level and you ran towards them.

“Ugh...I don’t have time for this shit!!” you heard Heisenberg yell behind you, but you were already halfway down the stairs and rushing to get as much distance between you and him as you could.

Your adrenaline was pumping as you turned a corner and ran down a dark hallway. You couldn’t hear the man behind you, which had you hoping that you were able to hide from him and come out once the coast was clear.

The steel stairs and walkways were a labyrinth as you looked for an open door that led to an empty room. There had to be someone in this place that you could convince to help you. Hell, you were so close to becoming three million dollars richer...if they helped you, you could reward them handsomely. But not before having this psychopath Heisenberg brought up on kidnapping charges.

“Pussycat…” you heard in a sing-song voice coming around the corner, “...please come out and play…”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you ran down the hallway towards a door. You opened the door and before you stood a metal walkway suspended in the air. It went on for several feet before stopping at another closed door. Slowly shutting the door behind you, you turned and started running across, your hands on the railings.

Movement along with the sounds of cogs turning and chains rattling brought your attention to your left. Your feet came to a halt and your eyes widened.

Were those...bodies?

Lifeless bodies were hanging from a large metal wheel, turning around and around. More bodies hung suspended from hooks as they moved along on an assembly line...lines that went up and down, right and left. There had to be hundreds of bodies in this place.

“Jesus Christ!” you murmured, your hands gripping the railing.

“How do you like my army?”

Your head whipped around to find Heisenberg slamming the door shut behind him, slowly making his way towards you. “Ah, yes...hundreds of men...waiting to become unbeatable, glorious works of art…”

“What the fuck is this place??” you spat at him, walking backwards.

Heisenberg looked at the bodies, his gloved hand sliding across the railing as he walked closer to you. “You have no idea where you are, darling…” he responded, turning his attention to you, “...this place...well, perhaps death would have been better for you…”

“Stay away from me,” you muttered, turning around and running as fast as you could towards the door on the other side of the walkway. You could hear the steady stomp of Heisenberg’s boots as he got closer and closer. Gripping the door handle, you pulled as hard as you could, but the door did not budge. You cursed and yelled, pulling and turning the handle.

Heisenberg’s arms went around your body and pulled you away from the door. You kicked and screamed, struggling to get away.

“You are becoming quite a pain in my ass!” Heisenberg bellowed, pulling you back across the walkway, “should I have left you shivering in the snow, fresh meat for the lycans?”

“Let go of me!!” you screamed. The two of you were back at the first door as he hauled you against his side, grunting as he carried you down a different corridor. Your fingers tried to grip at his arm, pulling at his trenchcoat. You swung your arms up towards his head, but he was quick to dodge your limbs.

He came up to a door and kicked it open, slinging your body inside. You fell to the floor and rolled into the room. “Sit tight, doll face,” Heisenberg grinned, “I’ll check in on you soon…” And before you could get to your feet and run towards him, he closed and locked the door.

“Let me out!” you screamed as you banged your fists on the door. You were met with silence and with a huff, you turned around. The room wasn’t large. A cot was against the wall. There was a stall on the other side with a toilet. Two metal chairs sat side by side against the wall to your left. To your right was a metal sink. You went to the sink and turned on the water. Upon close inspection, it seemed clear and clean. Leaning down, you gulped mouthfuls of water. You didn’t realize until that moment just how thirsty you were.

You stood and gasped for air. What the fuck is going on, you thought to yourself. Your plane crashed, you were chased by werewolf-like men and a mutant hunchback, and now you were locked away in a factory by some hammer wielding psychopath. Would you ever be able to escape? If anyone located the crash and saw that there were no survivors, would they just suspect that you were one of those dead and not come looking for you?

For the first time since the crash, you allowed the weight of the world to flow over you. And as you laid down on the cot, you finally allowed yourself to break down into quiet sobs.

The sudden opening of the metal door woke you and made you sit up straight on the cot. Your heartbeat instantly accelerated as you looked and saw Heisenberg standing in the doorway with a tray of food in his hand.

“Rise and shine, darling!” Heisenberg greeted in a jovial tone. He walked over to the sink and rested the tray across it, turning his attention away from you. Standing from the cot, you watched as he took the empty glass from the tray and filled it with water from the tap.

Without thinking, you made a break for the open door. Your focus was on escape and you didn’t notice when Heisenberg’s left hand made a twisting motion, the cot flipping onto its side, and swinging around the room, sliding between you and the door. You yelped and halted your retreat so as not to run straight into the bed. Your eyes flew between the cot and Heisenberg, not able to believe what you just saw.

“Don’t you think for one second you can stop running and just sit the fuck down?!” he growled as he turned to face you, “here I am, bringing you food, making sure you are well taken care of, and you can’t rest for two seconds!!”

“How did you do that??” you asked. Heisenberg shut the door and uprighted the cot, pulling it back to where it was.

“Magic,” he muttered under his breath, “seriously...Y/N, is it? I’m sure you’re starving. Just sit and eat something…” He picked up the tray and placed it on the cot, patting the mattress beside it. He walked past you towards one of the chairs and sat down. You moved in time with him, moving closer to the food...but only in order to keep space between the two of you.

The smell of the stew hit your nostrils and your stomach growled loudly. It did smell nice and you had to admit that you were incredibly hungry. You begrudgingly moved to the bed, sat down, and brought the tray to your lap. You picked up the spoon and dug in.

As you ate, your eyes moved from the bowl of stew to Heisenberg and back again. You watched as he reached into the inner pocket of his trenchcoat, pulled out a cigar, and lit it with a lighter he took from another pocket in the coat. He puffed on the cigar, leaning his head back and expelling a cloud of smoke up in the air. The aroma wafted through the room.

You didn’t say anything, but you always thought the smell of cigar smoke was intoxicating.

Heisenberg rested his arm across the other chair next to him and lifted his leg, putting his foot to rest on the opposite knee. His eyes never left yours.

As you ate quietly, you took in your captor. His boots, his clothing, the hat, and the sunglasses. Gloves covered his hands. His hair was long, coming to rest at chin level. His short beard was the same shade as his hair, brown with hints of gray peppered in between. If he hadn’t kidnapped you from the wreckage of the plane, you might have found him attractive.

Once you finished eating, you placed the tray on the cot next to you and finished your glass of water.

“How was it?” Heisenberg asked, motioning to the tray with his cigar.

“Good…” you mumbled, “...why am I here? And how did you move this cot?? What the fuck is going on??”

Heisenberg puffed on his cigar again before standing from the chair and walking towards you. “All will be revealed in due time.” He took your arm in his free hand and pulled you from the bed and towards the door.

“Now where are we going?!?!” you asked, feelings of fear, dread, and disbelief surging through you once again.

“You have proven you can’t be trusted on your own,” Heisenberg said, “you’re staying in my living quarters with me…”

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #house heisenberg #heisenberg

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schrijverr · 3 years

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The Heart Is Also a Muscle

5 times Sypha and Alucard got distracted by Trevor’s warrior physique + 1 time he noticed and yet completely misunderstands.

Trevor is hot and once Sypha and Alucard have noticed it is hard not to notice. Now they just have to figure out how to confess, before it gets incredibly awkward because he catches on. When he does however, his insecurities completely misconstrue their intentions.

On AO3.

Ships: trephacard

Warnings: insecurities

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite Trevor’s many years on the road, keeping up a less than stellar training regime, he was still a warrior at heart and in body. He had still fought all those years and his frame was bulky to accommodate the muscle needed for that.

Something that was hard to miss.

And Alucard and Sypha didn’t miss it at all. In fact they noticed it a bit too often for their own comfort, now that they were cleaning up Dracula’s castle after their victory over the old vampire.

It wasn’t that Sypha hadn’t noticed that Trevor was fit while they traveled, it was more that they were so many other things to think about, to worry about to keep oneself alive that she hadn’t noticed that sort of stuff. So, it still took her by surprise when she did.

They were clearing out the rubble of one of the many rooms covered by it. It was slow going work, even with Alucard’s supernatural strength. One upside was that Sypha was getting really good at levitation spells.

She took a small break and wiped her forehead. Alucard had just moved a big stone and Trevor was now trying to lift a bigger stone than he had done.

For a moment she rolled her eyes at the childish display, but as she looked she noticed the shirt clinging to his sweaty body as he arms bulged under the effort. His brow was furrowed and his tongue was poking out slightly.

He was a piece of art.

Fuck.

Why hadn’t she noticed before that Trevor was completely ripped? Maybe she had noticed, but never connected that to him being nice to look at. Now, she couldn't look away as he struggled with the too big stone.

No sane human should be able to carry it and she didn’t know why he even tried (well, she did, but she thought it stupid). Until, the asshole actually managed to lift it, proud grin sweeping over his face as he did.

Slowly, he started to walk, careful steps to balance the stone and keep himself upright. Every time he almost lost balance, he flexed his legs, which was equally distracting and Sypha really wanted to know why she had to notice this, because she knew that from that moment on, she wouldn’t stop noticing it.

“Sypha?” the smooth voice next to her made her jump, she hadn’t even realized Alucard had arrived next to her. “Something the matter?” he asked.

She debated with herself if she would admit to Alucard what had distracted her so. It was embarrassing for sure, but she had also seen the fondness in the dhampirs eyes whenever Trevor talked to him, so she might find an ally in her suffering here.

With a decision made she gestured to Trevor, who was taking the final steps to the right pile of stones for rebuilding, before he squatted down to put down the stone. His back muscles rippled and his ass was practically on display.

Beside her, Alucard made a choked off noise.

At that Trevor turned around, somehow an adorable confused pout on his face that should look ridiculous on his large frame, but didn’t. “You both okay?”

“Yeah, just thought we’d wait for you to break your back carrying something too heavy before we laughed at you,” Alucard shot back, saving both their asses from embarrassment as Trevor rolled his eyes and flipped him off, claiming that it wasn’t that heavy anyway.

They were rebuilding some of the pathways in the Belmont Hold. Trevor had insisted on cleaning up most of the castle first, claiming that it was the most livable place out of the two and he wanted a bed, but both had seen the saddened look on his face when faced with what remained of his childhood home in ruins.

So, the moment they had made the kitchen and a few bedrooms presentable, they started on a few passageways across.

However, ever since Sypha had pointed out Trevor’s muscles in a different light to him, he now was ruined forevermore and she was to blame. He couldn't do anything normally anymore. Somehow each activity turned into a distraction with Trevor around.

Right now being an example of how much of a distraction Trevor was.

He was hauling up a beam that Sypha was directing above them, while Alucard was supposed to be sorting the pile of books that were in the language only he could read.

Supposed to, because he most definitely wasn’t.

No, because how could one read when Trevor was coiling a rope around his forearms as he pulled on said thick rope, muscles straining against it as he panted and dug in his heals.

The beam was pretty big and it was frankly short of a miracle that he hadn’t let it drop yet, but then again, he was incredibly muscled as Alucard had found out. So, slowly the beam rose under Trevor’s labor.

Faintly Alucard wondered how Sypha was holding out up there, being forced to watch Trevor so that she could jump in to help when necessary. He found her eyes and saw her bite her lip, face completely red.

Then the beam dropped a few feet as Trevor fumbled with the rope for a moment. It was an interesting tug-a-war. Trevor vs. gravity. Even as he won, regaining his footing and putting in some extra work, both Alucard and Sypha had gasped when it happened.

“Do you need assistance?” Alucard found himself calling out, despite knowing better.

“I am fine, Fangs,” Trevor grunted and that noise wasn’t good for Alucard’s blood pressure. “Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”

Wit spite as final motivator, Trevor pulled the beam the final distance, groaning with relief when Sypha had guided it into place. Before he could turn to see Alucard look, the dhampir turned back to his pile of books.

He had things to do.

Alucard and Sypha had gotten used to Trevor’s muscular frame that truly shone whenever they needed to do construction.

Well, used to was a strong word.

Trevor was still completely distracting, so much that they had started a little talk club in the library in the mornings when Trevor was sleeping in. But they could function almost normally and do their tasks while they worked.

But this? This now, right there? That was different. It was just unfair actually. Unfair and mean, but also very blessed.

Rewinding to that afternoon, when they had decided that they weren’t in the mood for reconstructing the castle or the hold. So, they had lunch, talked a bit, Sypha picked up a book, Alucard as well, while Trevor seemed content to sit by the fire with them, whittling away at a piece of wood.

Then it had happened. Trevor had reached for a bit of firewood, before realizing they were almost out. Throwing the last logs onto the fire, he got up and stretched as he said: “I’m going to chop some more fire wood.”

And then he left and they were alone. For a few moments they both just blinked at the empty space that had just been Trevor, before his words caught up to them.

Sypha moved first. She got up with her book and walked to the seat that had been built in next to the window that looked out over the fields below. They weren’t high up in the castle and had a good view.

“Might I inquire about the sudden move?” Alucard asked after a moment.

She grinned at him mischievously and nodded to something on the other side of the window, before she said: “Why don’t you come here and find out? Promise it’s worth it.”

Alucard didn’t know when he had forgotten she was cruel in her kindness, but looking down to see Trevor chop wood with a big ax was definitely cruel, still he was so very grateful for her that she had invited him to the view.

Because it truly was a view. Trevor was soaking through his shirt as he effortlessly swung the giant ax downwards onto the waiting wood, always splitting it in one or two swings.

“Oh God,” he choked out.

“Hmmhm, I know,” Sypha agreed.

“He just-”

“Jup.”

“Wow.”

It wasn’t the classiest conversation they’d had, but by far not the least classiest conversation about Trevor’s muscle’s they’d had. Still, they could hardly be blamed when the person in question was right in front of them being hot, instead of far away and sleeping.

As they watched they could see the outlines of Trevor’s muscles appear in sweat. Naturally the armpits were first, but then they appeared under his pecs and between his shoulders as well.

Alucard swallowed heavily, Sypha beside him followed suit.

They stood there for a while, just admiring Trevor as the pile next to him grew with chopped up wood. It was a nice spring day and the sun was doing wonder’s for the sweat coating his muscles. Trevor was now only in a tunic, nothing covering his arms. It was a very good look on him.

Then it happened. They were unassuming and powerless when Trevor lifted his tunic to wipe the sweat on his brow, only to pull back and grimace when he found it already soaked. Before they could prepare themselves he had tugged the tunic over his head, continuing his task completely bare-chested.

“Oh,” Sypha moaned miserably, “I don’t know if I want to thank whoever is out there or curse them right now.”

If he could have formed words at that moment, he would have agreed with her. Alas, he was incapacitated by the shirtless sweaty and sexy Trevor below them.

After they had started at the hunter for a few moments – imprinting the view, getting their wits together again, that sort of stuff – Sypha said: “This is truly pathetic. Look at us. This is so sad.” Trevor chopped again, it was a big log and it went down in one swing. “But totally deserved sadness if I get to see this.”

“Do you think he knows what he’s doing?” Alucard asked as Trevor stretched borderline pornographically.

“Oh absolutely not,” replied Sypha. “He’s as oblivious as a brick and I’m torn between calling it cute and frustrating.”

“We should probably say something to him at one point,” Alucard pointed out.

“Yeah, we probably should,” Sypha agreed, taking Alucard’s hand and leaning into him as they enjoyed the view together. They had made a deal not to do anything until they’d gotten Trevor’s rejection or until he was on board. Right now, she would do anything for a kiss though.

She didn’t try. She knew that Alucard cared about doing things proper and she wanted that too. She just also happened to be watching Trevor be hot while knowing that any move would have him running from the hills due to the emotional repressing he had made his personality.

So, she sighed and looked back out, only to see Trevor put the ax away and gather an arm full of newly chopped wood, still no shirt.

Cursing she pulled Alucard back to the chairs they had sat in and turned the book so that it was right side up, before she hissed to Alucard that he had to act natural.

Alucard had just turned back to his book, the look of apathy he had perfected on his face, when Trevor came in and dropped off the firewood, before greeting them and turning to bring another load.

Once he had left the room and would be out of hearing range, Alucard leaned over to her and whispered: “We need to come up with a plan at some point.”

“Yes, I know, okay,” Sypha agreed.

“He’s getting on my nerves both in a good and bad way and I might snap if we don’t do something soon and that’ll make things worse.”

“This is getting ridiculous,” she sighed, “I’m working on it.”

“What are you two gossiping about?” Trevor asked with a grin, as he returned with more wood in his arms. “You could be two old ladies in a market square.”

“Nothing really,” said Alucard, right as Sypha answered: “About how much you stink. Sweat isn’t a good look on you,” the lie came out.

Trevor huffed, but it was good-naturedly, as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll put away the rest of the wood and go bathe, your majesties.” Then he swept out of the room, leaving them without his shirtless pecs to view.

After the wood chopping incident, working together with Trevor had become harder again, so the cleaning of the general grossness that came with an army of night creatures had been divided to be done separately.

To Trevor they had claimed efficiency, and while he had looked suspicious, he had also accepted it without any complaints.

But even that did not save them from him. While there were no bulging muscles soaking in sweat, just general grossness and tiredness when they met up again with each other, it seemed that Trevor was full of surprises, oblivious as he was to them.

Alucard and Sypha had bothcollapsed on the floor in one of the main halls when Trevor joined them, stretching his arms above his head, flexing his muscles slightly.

He sat down with them and groaned: “I don’t think my back will ever recover from this, I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You do not get paid at all,” said Alucard in confusion.

“Exactly,” Trevor told him, before stretching and groaning again. Then he stretched his legs out in front of him and just dropped his head down onto his knees, bending himself in half as he semi-moaned when his back cracked.

Sypha watched him slack jawed and Alucard didn’t think he looked much better as he ogled the hunter as well. Trevor was not just flexing muscles, but flexible as well. He would become the death of them that was certain.

It took them a few more moments to snap out of their daze, then a few more to realize Trevor had fallen asleep.

He had fallen asleep with his nose between his knees as if he was a pretzel, because apparently the position was so comfortable for him that he could fall asleep.

Fuck.

After the flexible incident, as Sypha was calling it, they had been scrambling for a plan to get Trevor to agree to date them, because seeing that display only to have to deal with the cute sleepy Trevor that came after had been too much for their hearts.

Naturally it couldn't be that way. They had a vague plan about maybe tying Trevor to a chair if he wanted to run away, but nothing concrete yet.

She was currently in the Belmont Hold, looking through their books, hoping that one would spark a plan or maybe just give her something to talk about with the other’s over dinner. A book caught her eye, it was green with golden letters that read: Herbs against poison, for healing and relaxation

But when she reached for it, her arm fell short and not even by a bit. She was even pretty sure Alucard couldn't reach it like that. She would need a ladder, but the ladder system for this part had been destroyed.

A part of her was aware that she was pouting, but she still frowned when Trevor asked: “What are you pouting about?”

“I wasn’t pouting,” she told him instead of answering.

“Okay then, why was your bottom lip protruding in displeasure?” he asked her with a shit-eating grin that was both adorable and annoying.

She gave up with that and gestured to the book as she explained: “I can’t reach it.”

Trevor tried, but he too couldn't reach it, but she appreciated how he stretched out in an attempt to reach it, the flexibility coming to mind again. It truly was a pity they hadn’t been able to come up with anything to exploit that part yet.

Sypha was about to call for Alucard to see if he could when she felt two big hands on her waist before she was effortlessly lifted into the air. She squeaked loudly and floundered for a moment.

“Grab your book, Sypha,” she heard the laughter in Trevor’s voice, but she couldn't find it within herself to be annoyed when Trevor had just lifted her of the ground like it was nothing.

Sure, she wasn’t the heaviest or biggest person around, but she had a lot of muscle for her frame and she wouldn’t describe herself as light. God, what she wouldn’t give to have that strength at her mercy.

No, don’t focus on that now, grab the book. She quickly clutched the book and hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Hey, you okay?” Trevor was now frowning in that stupidly concerned way that made her heart clench and she deducted that her cheeks must have been as red as she’d feared. “I’m fine,” she squeaked, hoping it would be enough.

Alucard came to her rescue, sort of. He landed gracefully and asked: “What happened? I heard Sypha squeak.”

“Oh, yeah, nothing to worry about. I think I startled her when I lifted her,” Trevor explained casually, “We couldn't reach a book she wanted. So, teamwork.”

“You. You just lifted her up?” Alucard repeated dumbly and Sypha knew that it was the fact that it was hot and he missed it that made him say it like that.

Sadly, Trevor interpreted it differently. “What? You think I couldn't lift her. No offense, Sypha, but you’re hardly a challenge. I mean, I could lift you, you bloodsucking prick. Sure, no super strength, but you don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“That’s not-” before Alucard could ruin everything, Sypha interrupted: “Really?” she tried to sound disbelieving, “I mean, you’re strong, but Alucard? He’s tall and muscled. I don’t think you can.”

“I so can, this is ridiculous,” now it was Trevor, who was pouting and she took a bit of joy out of her manipulation.

“Prove it.”

Trevor looked taken aback by that and glanced at Alucard, who gladly had caught on and send him a cocky raised brow paired with a smirk.

Determination settled on Trevor’s face and he crossed his arms, before saying: “Okay, sure, I will,” before walking to Alucard and hoisting him over his shoulder’s like he was a somewhat heavy sack of potatoes. “See?”

“Okay, yeah, but that wasn’t how you carried me,” Sypha pointed out.

“Well, then maybe I can’t do that, but lifting someone by the waist is the hardest way to lift someone,” Trevor protested as he let Alucard down. “I feel like that was still pretty impressive. He’s heavy despite the delicate bone structure.”

Sypha was pretty sure Alucard was out of the running now with that comment, but she wanted to sedate her own curiosity. “I’ll give you the hard lifting part, but I don’t know about impressive. Maybe bridal carry and I’ll be impressed.”

He looked at her inscrutably and for a second she feared he would call her bluff and point out her real motivations. That moment never came, he sighed then set his shoulders– his broad, nice shoulders – stubbornly, before literally swooping Alucard off his feet.

He gave her a look that screamed ‘What now, eh? Didn’t think I’d do it, but I did, so suck it’ and she loved it. She loved that he had done what she told him to do while also showing off those muscles. A win on every front.

His arms, neck and shoulder strained under the weight of the tall, muscled dhampir, but he held out as he gently lowered Alucard back onto his feet. Sypha didn’t know if it was the lifting or the gentleness that made Alucard bashful, but he murmured something inaudible, before hurrying back to what he had bee doing before the interruption.

“Rude,” Trevor noted. “I didn’t even get to bask in my superiority.”

“You can bask to me, it’s okay,” she comforted him. “I am suitably impressed by your dhampir lifting skills, Trevor.”

“Thank you,” he said with extra emphasis to make it into a tease. “You know, as a true hero, both for being epic and awesome as well as getting your book, I feel like I should be rewarded.”

“Oh?” she was curious to see where this went.

“Yeah, I want to borrow the bath soap you’re so protective over after the next time we attempt to clean the goop dungeon,” he made his demand.

She was glad that, with running warm water, they had convinced him that baths were actually nice and she didn’t mind the thought of him smelling like her. Still, she put up a front of indulgence, yet being annoyed as she said: “Fine.”

“Heck yeah,” he cheered before ambling off.

+1.

Trevor wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but over the past few days he had noticed that both Alucard and Sypha were acting weird. Well, weirder than usual, it was pretty hard to define weird when you lived in Dracula’s old castle near the Belmont Hold with a dhampir and a Speaker, but you get the idea.

The thing was, Trevor had no idea why they were being weird and what had caused it, but he knew they were only weird to him.

It made his chest tighten uncomfortably as he tried to think of something he’d done wrong.

Nothing came to mind, but that just made him question if he really knew them if he couldn't even spot the thing he had done to upset them both. It was all a frustrating mess and Trevor was half waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.

He hated feeling like this, feeling like he’d done something wrong and couldn't apologize. It tore him apart in a way he couldn't describe. He just hoped that they wouldn’t kick him to the curb, because that would extra suck. He already liked them too much as it was, getting his heart broken over something he didn’t understand would only make it worse.

So, he kept an eye on them, trying to figure out what they were thinking when they stared at him or whispered among themselves.

He was soon to find out.

It was a decidedly normal day, Trevor was mildly stressed, the weather was nice and they were finally moving the rubble they hadn’t been able to reuse out of the castle. They were making a pile out of it that they would later use to make an obstacle course or something, Trevor wasn’t sure it was mostly Alucard and Sypha doing the planning. Maybe that was it? Maybe the stress of the whole castle thing was catching up with them as well and it wasn’t anything Trevor had done.

They had assigned him to carry rubble, which made him roll his eyes. Alucard had supernatural strength and Sypha had magic, yet here he was carrying the bulk while Sypha ordered him around on where to go while Alucard switched between helping him and rearranging the rubble.

His muscles were straining under the amount of exercise, but it didn’t bother Trevor that much. It was good to keep in shape and he could handle it.

He came back from his umpteenth trip, groaning as he set down his load as he cracked his back by putting his hands on his back and pushing. He looked around and saw Alucard and Sypha on top of one of the piles that Alucard found “artistic.”

With a grin on his face he quickly hopped up the pile to see what they were talking about. They had watching him walk over and smiled at him, before turning to talk among themselves. He was about to call out a greeting and announce his presence when he heard Sypha said: “There must be more chores where we can make him carry stuff.”

Hm, he thought, that was obviously about him, thoughhe had no clue why that of all things would be a conversation topic.

Before he could ask, Alucard replied: “I mean, there are still those chains in the dungeons that we could make him clear out, but I feel that would be bad for us.” This was just making him more confused.

Sypha made a small noise, before agreeing: “Oh, yeah, Trevor with chains will totally be bad for us.”

Trevor choked on his spit.

Two heads whipped around to him, with two pairs of eyes as big as dinner plates, filled with the guilt of being caught saying something they shouldn’t have been saying. They were completely silent, neither explaining or defending themselves.

In the silence Trevor tried to wrap his head around it. How was him carrying stuff bad for them? And why were they thinking up reasons for him to carry stuff anyway? What did they have to gain by watching him carry stuff? It wasn’t as if he was eye candy and-

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed. He was eye candy. They were watching him carry stuff, because they liked it and holy shit did he not know how to even deal with that.

He felt the blood rushing to his head and knew he must look like a fucking beet, but he didn’t care, his mind was a bit preoccupied. He had known that some would classify him as handsome, but he had long since given up on either of them thinking that. They had seen him do too many embarrassing things to even consider him attractive and they had each other. Even dense little him could put that one together. Yet here they were.

Unless, of course, this was some sort of sick joke to them, a little voice in his mind whispered. The dhampir hearing of Alucard could have picked up his footfalls easily and they could have conspired to fuck with him, just for the sake of fucking with him. A cold feeling washed over him and his chest seemed to collapse in on itself at the realization.

God, fucking shit, they had probably caught on to his pathetic feelings for them and had decided to toy with him before telling him to scram for being a fucking weirdo. All the looks made so much more sense now.

It just fucking hurt that they would toy with him like that. That they would be that mean to him instead of just telling him when they’d figured it out.

Much to his embarrassment, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He swallowed hard and tried to force them down as he choked out: “Well, fuck you too,” before turning away to stomp off and grab his stuff to get out of there.

He didn’t get far.

Alucard appeared in front of him with his stupid dhampir speed that Trevor found very attractive no matter how much he hated it rightnow. The other reached out to him, but stilled his hand before they touched.

Fuck, how badly did he fuck up that they didn’t even want to touch him. And why were they even coming after him. He was doing what they wanted.

“Trevor,” Alucard said and it didn’t sound like someone relieved that the person, who had been crushing after him and his girlfriend was finally going, it sounded like someone, who was very upset.

It stilled Trevor long enough for Sypha to catch up with them too. As she laid her hand on his shoulder. However, he shrugged her off and tried to walk on again, getting stopped by Alucard, who found it within himself to touch the grossness of Trevor.

“Wait, Trevor, hold on,” Sypha called out. “I swear it’s not what you think.”

“Really?” he truly didn’t mean to sound so bitter. He was happy that they had each other, they deserved each other. It just hurt that he wasn’t in their they and that they thought that stupid joke would land well.

“Yes, okay,” she told him. “We’re really sorry about springing it on you like that, but-”

“Yeah, why the fuck did you think that was okay?” he hissed at her, trying not to feel the pangs in his heart at her little flinch. “I don’t care that you’re fucking happy together, but pulling that sick stunt on me is not cool. You can just kick me to the curb like a normal person. You fucking fuckers just had to crush me in the process too? Getting someone’s hope up and then- then… That’s just- just mean!”

He knew he was crying now, he totally was and his voice broke over the last few words, but he couldn't stop it. He had spend the last few weeks pining over them, while knowing he didn’t have a chance, perking up with a slight hope every time they smiled at him. So for them to give him that hope again only to stomp on it, had just been the last straw that broke him. Sue him.

“W- what?” Alucard asked, making him turn around to see absolute confusion written over his face along with hurt.

“Oh, Trevor,” he heard Sypha behind him with that pitying voice he didn’t need from her as he turned around to see hurting compassion written over her entire face. Yeah, now she felt guilty, not when she actually did it.

Still, when she reached for his face and gently cupped his cheek, he couldn't help but lean in to the little bit of comfort that was provided.

She wiped away his tears gently and softly said: “We’re not kicking you to the curb. Never, okay, never, Trevor. I swear. You’ve completely misunderstood. It wasn’t a joke, okay. It never was. We meant it, undignified as our lordship over there might find it.”

Trevor chuckled wetly at that, still not entirely sure if he believed her, but so willing to give in, even if it was a lie. For the lie was so much sweeter.

Alucard appeared behind him and he swayed slightly, the exhaustion of all the emotions in the last couple of minutes catching up to him. He tried to pull away when he accidentally hit Alucard’s chest, but the dhampir just pulled him close, nuzzling his hair as he whispered: “You’re such an idiot.”

That was probably true, both Alucard and Sypha were smarter than him and he was generally an idiot, but his mind wasn’t fully wrapping around where he had misunderstood it all and ruined everything.

The tears that had stopped started up again and he didn’t know how after years of repressing all his emotions this was the thing that broke all his walls. Still, he whimpered: “I’m sorry, for- for fucking it all- all up ag- again.”

“No, no,” Sypha shushed him as she hugged him, “you didn’t fuck up anything.”

He was now completely sandwiched between Sypha and Alucard with no clue how him taking a small break from clearing rubble had ended up like this. Yet here he was and he was going to soak up the attention and care while he had it, so he didn’t protest them holding him silently, just let himself melt softly.

Seconds or eternities could have passed without Trevor’s knowledge until Sypha broke the silence: “I don’t know how you got to the conclusion that our horny conspiring was a joke, but as embarrassing at it is, it most certainly isn’t, Trevor.”

Trevor had half choked, half laughed at the phrase ‘horny conspiring’ as it caught up to him what that meant. Hesitantly, he asked: “So- so you had me carry stuff just to watch me?”

It sounded ridiculous in his own head, because why on earth would anyone look at him when they could look at Alucard and Sypha, but they both tensed slightly around him, before nodding. Alucard going as far as to say: “You have nice muscles.”

Under other circumstances Trevor would totally and completely ruin Alucard by tearing him apart with teases at that remark, but there weren’t other circumstances and right now Trevor felt raw and vulnerable, so he just breathed: “Yeah?” in an unsure voice that he hated immediately.

“Yeah,” Sypha firmly agreed. “I don’t know how to tell you this without never hearing the end of it, but you’re really fucking hot. You literally made me into a person who says fuck just so I could tell you that you’re fucking hot.”

He actually snorted at that, because it was easier to snort at it then to admit that the complement felt nice and made him blush.

“We’ve actually been trying very hard to figure out how to tell you without you running away,” she went on, snorting miserably, “but I guess we messed that up. You are just so bad at accepting nice things for yourself that us telling you that we love you seemed almost impossible.”

“Y- you? You love me?” He was getting really fucking sick of that small weak voice

“Yes,” that was Alucard behind him. “We love you, just like we love each other. We hope you feel the same, but we understand if you don’t.”

“It would be really fucking stupid of me not to love the two most amazing people in the entire world, Alucard. Yes, sadly I am disappointing my entire bloodline by including you in that statement, but it’s true.” Admitting it like this felt better than being touch-y feel-y, he didn’t do touch-y feel-y well.

Luckily it was the right thing to say, because both of them relaxed around him as they snorted before chuckling and a bit of pride coursed through him at making them laugh.

“I’m so lucky you’re our idiot,” Sypha told him, before pulling him into a kiss.

Her lips were soft but firm and completely enticing. He kissed her back and stopped caring about oxygen as a necessity, it was completely overrated in comparison to kissing Sypha. When she finally let him up for air, he was dizzy. Faintly he heard her say something to Alucard about making her wait for so long, but it was lost to him as he tried to refind himself as a human being.

He became aware of Alucard and Sypha kissing each other over his shoulder once he had managed and watched mesmerized for a moment. Fuck, he could definitely get used to this. Still, he whined: “I’m feeling a bit left out here,” without meaning it.

Both their eyes fell on him and swallowing became a challenge. Then Alucard surged his lips and kissed him thoroughly. It was less gentle, while more careful than Sypha’s kiss as Alucard watched out for his fangs to Trevor’s disappointment. Yet, it was equally mind blowing.

Once he had resurfaced again, it took him a moment once more. He was still being wrapped up in both of them and his heart felt so much lighter than it had before.

“I know we should probably talk way more about this, but I do want to note that I have excellent stamina to back up my muscles.”

Both of them groaned and he grinned to his little victory.

Yeah, he could get used to this.

A/N:

Fun fact, my sister once fell asleep with her nose between her knees, because she is slightly insane, I feel personally. So, actually based in fact, lmao

Also, I swear this was supposed to be lighthearted, but then I was writing the last part from Trevor’s POV, because I thought it would be funny and he just wouldn’t allow himself nice things no matter how I tried to push him. So angst it is, very in character, sadly.

Btw, im really proud of that title ngl

#rr writing #trephacard #insecure trevor belmont #trevor belmont #alucard tepes #alucard #sypha belnades #sypha x trevor x alucard #castlevania #netflix castlevania #castlevania cartoon

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