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#giving casual information (but not too much and not too little???) so they can then ask questions etc. so then if im like ughh
wutheringcaterpillar · 15 hours
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hey can you write for Cillian being jealous over his wife/fiance / girlfriend who's 20 years younger after her co worker was flirting with her in a party. After they headed home they had a fight and a hate/rough/ jealousy fuck but ended up hugging eo like nothing happened because it was the first fight fuck they had and they enjoyed it
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Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!
Warnings: age gap (20 yr age difference), rough sex, jealousy, p in v
After finally wrapping up the movie you were filming, Cillian arrived with you to an after party in celebration held at the studio. He had been so proud of his brilliant, beautiful wife and was there to show his support.
The evening carried on quite well, the writers and producers carrying on casual conversation with Cillian and asking of his filming endeavors and what he thinks makes a script flourish and stick out with great potential to become a huge hit.
After a few drinks at the bar, he excused himself to the restroom, giving you a peck on the cheek.
That was when Jake approached you. He was around your age range, early twenties and he was a close friend of yours ever since the first of filming. It was rare he was dressed up and seeing him so was quite a breath taker, he was quite handsome.
“Hey! There’s the star!” He welcomed you with open arms into a warm hug, causing you to smile widely. You had never been complimented so much in a day and honestly it was very wonderful and made you feel appreciated, not that Cillian didn’t but it was nice to hear from co workers and strangers too.
“Did you see the scrapbook Carly made of some fun moments we had on set? She really made it for you with it being your first film an all.” When you shook your head no, Jake walked you over to the table.
Cillian exited the bathroom only to find you not where he expected you to be, spotting you over by the city view window, Jake standing next to you with his hand settled on your lowerback.
Making his way over, he could hear Jake make a comment to you about how out of all other actresses he’d worked with, you had been the best. The comment made you smile and giggle, causing a deep discomfort to settle over Cillian like an impending storm.
“Oh, honey hi! Jake was just showing me the scrapbook Carly made, so sweet of her isn’t it?” Cillian smiled and nodded pleasently, hiding the building jealousy as Jake swayed closer to you. As a man himself Cillian knew that Jake was looking at you with lustful, scheming eyes before turning his attention to him.
“You have a hell of a wife here, quite talented she is, and beautiful might I add.” Jake winked toward you, causing your cheeks to burn an amber shade of red while Cillian stood there with his eyebrows raised that this man had the audacity to make a such a motion in front of him. 
Lapping his tongue over his lip and chuckling darkly, his arm flexed behind your shoulders as a way of claiming his territory, looking Jake directly in the eyes.
“I’m well aware what I have. I feel I must inform you, your zipper’s down and you lusting over a married woman makes you look quite pathetic and desperate, guess that comes with young age and stupidity. You had her in a scene, fake might I add. I have her daily, now go check your trousers  and yourself little boy before you try hitting on my wife again. We’ll be leaving now.” Embarrassment spread over Jake’s face as he looked around the room, seeing if anyone else noticed.
Cillian grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the party as you yelled goodbyes and thank yous’ to all of your co stars.
He had never acted like this and you were more than pissed at his actions. As an actor himself he should know how to compose himself and realize that you were a grown woman who loved him and never gave him a reason to believe you’d cheat.
The car ride was silent while tensions were high. Shifting your legs, you held the position facing the window not even wanting to make eye contact with Cillian. How could he embarrass you like that? 
Meanwhile he continued driving, knuckles wrapped white and tight around the wheel, jaw clenched in anger.
Arriving home, you bursted through the door in an angered storm, lips pursed in disgust. Cillian simply scoffed, yelling behind you as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom after taking your heels off
“Did you even care that I showed up for you? Cause it looked like you were too wrapped up in Jake’s fucking flirtatious remarks to even notice I was there.” Turning around in fury, you pointed your finger, pushing his chest lightly while you stared at him with venomous eyes.
“Well maybe if my husband wasn’t an insecure little jealous bitch this all could have been avoided, but wait maybe that comes with age like you said to Jake!” Shoving you against the wall with gritted teeth, he pulled his tie off aggressively while wrapping his hand around your throat. Your head bounced back against the sturdy wall.
In a heated wave of anger, Cillian’s eyes flamed like a blue rose set on fire while your eyes bore into his skull with a lustful fury.
Clashing his lips against yours roughly breaking the tension, your hand grazed up the back of his neck pulling him in closer needing to taste him. 
He lifted you off the ground effortlessly as you fumbled with his belt never breaking your lips from his, tongues exploring one anothers, moaning in between kisses.
His cock popped out from the tailored trousers, the thick head leaking with pre cum waiting ever impatiently to be between your wet folds.
“Take me. Go on take me before I-“ Cillian silenced your smirk words with his cock unexpectedly sliding forcefully into your tight hole making you gasp.
“Not so smart now are we love?” He began to plow irelentlessly into your cunt, your breasts falling shamelessly from your dress.
He wanted you to hear you moan, to beg for more because it was only him who you belonged to, only him who could pleasure you in such a memorable way.
Spreading you over the wooden dresser, his strong hands grasped at your thighs, slamming you down onto his cock, filling you with every singular inch of his girthy member.
Something about seeing him fuck you still in his tuxedo sent a thrill up your spine, maybe you needed to argue more if the sex was going to be like this.
Pulling him down, you buried his head in your breasts, ankles tying behind his back, pushing him further inside, as far as you could.
His tongue lapsed at your cleavage before moving to your nipples, sucking like a baby needed it’s bottle, nibbling at the delicate skin.
“Fuck Cil- more!” All of a sudden, the pleasurable thrusts came to a hault. He lifted his head, whispering in your ear with sarcasm.
“I’m sorry, what was that? You need more, from me? Why should I give it to you, you have Jake.”
“Cill, please! Just fuck me you stubborn ass, you know I’m fucking yours.” That’s all he needed to hear, but the thought of Jake’s hands on you still pissed him off.
Your soaked walls clenched to him desperately, squeezing and craving for more friction, a faster pace as your orgasm was nearing closer and closer with each passing second, each power driven ram into your aching cervix.
He didn’t know his wife could be anymore hot, anymore sexy than she was right now before his very eyes.
He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your head back by your hair, causing the once well combed strands to completely fall to ruins.
Your ass bounced back against him, the jiggling motion richocheting against his skin as he pounded into you relentlessly, his cock filling every inch of your dripping cunt.
“Cil-Cil I’m going to-“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, hands gripping desperately at the sides of the dresser while your orgasm twitched with a majestic feeling of euphoria through your body. Coming completely undone beneath your husband who never failed to ensure you came first.
When he felt the wave of your alluring nectar stream down his shaft, with one last, detrimental pound you felt his cock pulsate inside of you, the stream of his seed watering your uterus. Your moans mixing together in a harmonious end to a fight.
Cillian was like a drug you’d never, ever want to quit.
Standing up, you fixed the strap of you dress, patting the fabric down and wiping the sweat from your forehead while he pulled his pants back up in a now tired haze. 
There was an awkward silence but no further argumentative statements or yelling, like the storm has passed.
“Let’s go to bed yeah?” Nodding, you followed him to bed, curling into his side falling asleep peacefully as if nothing happened.
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alienpossession · 2 days
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Ethnographic Research: Part 1
Loud screams and flailing hands, yet no one to help as all of them already jumped off their boat in the middle of the lake. They can feel it, something is filling them up, fast, and they cannot do anything about it. But after a wild couple of minutes, deafening silence as no more scream for help coming out. Soon, they climb the ladder by the side of the boat and get back up to the deck, looking at each other with curiosity and gleeful, awkward smile. One of them then mouthed
"Let's inform the Mother Ship of a job well done," and just like that, the cold expression-less face turned warmer, rowdier even, as it takes on a more humane color and expression.
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----
There's no such thing as a memo or pointers on "How to Perfectly Blend In among Human" or "Step-by-Step Guide for Seamless Integration into Human Society". At least not for the Xarthan. As an invasive, cruel yet hyper-intelligent extraterrestrial being, taking over by sheer force and adapting accordingly is always the playbook. It's in their DNA to give complete disregard of other species as long as their species advanced or survived through their tumultuous, warring lifestyle. Yet, a handful of Xarthan believed that there's a better way of life out there. That they don't have to continously move from one planet to the others, pillaging one's life after the other, just to get their euphoric-inducing stimulant release. That maybe killing other species is not the only way they can get that sensation that makes them alive. Their centuries of research eventually led the descendants of these slightly differing Xarthans to the small blue dot their transmission revealed to be called planet Earth.
So, these small pack of 20 Xarthans decided that their research hypothesis need to be verified. They descended in batches, 2 in each spot seemingly infested by human being and planned to converge after each of them lived at least around a month or two acclimatizing to Earth's society. Their mission is to verify whether or not the sexual release done by the male population of Earth released a similar stimulant to what the Xarthans experienced when they manage to exterminate other species
In a complete Xarthan's style, these batches of alien take over the first human they encountered with little to no regards about the life these human previously have. In its static form, a Xarthan is usually 7-8 feet tall, translucent and very slender being. But due to its "liquid" nature, it can adjust its shape. Upon contact of the vessel's internal water or blood, a Xarthan will merge with it and then spread itself through the entire system of the body. This also applies to bodies of water in the wild, so in the event of encountering bodies of water, a Xarthan can break down into millions of microparticles and takeover multiple vessels at once. After taken over, those vessels will be controlled by a singular hive mind as those microparticles originated from a single Xarthan entity before breaking down. That case happened to the unfortunate Pike boys and their girls who spent their time on a lakeside cabin for their weekend break. When they jumped to the water, they have no idea that 2 Xarthans just landed a couple minutes before right around the area where their boat stopped. Upon unknowingly making contact to the infested water, their bodies all contorted and spasmed as millions of microparticles swarmed their system. They tried their best to save themselves but it was just too much and before long, they were all taken over
Still in the States, but more to its Northwest area, the hunting group didn't realize that there's a pair of predator lurking around the shadows. The group went to Montana for a casual hunting since this is not yet the season for elk hunting anyway. They split themselves into group of two, not knowing that by the end of the day, a pair of them will be back as totally different person. That misfortune befell on Richard and Logan, the slightly more experience hunter among the group as they were USMC veteran and probably have the most experience with gun compared to the others. The Xarthans that took over their bodies laughed on the last memory the two humans have
"He was scared shitless. It was genuinely the most horrified he's ever been,"
"Yup, same goes here. I think he peed his pants HAHAH"
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The 4 Xarthans in the States are just 1/5 out of the research group. If went according to the original plan, the other 16 will land around:
1. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
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2. the Greek isles
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3. Bangkok, Thailand
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4. Ibiza, Spain
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5. The Carribbean
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6. Northern Europe, and
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7. Eastern coast of Australia
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loriannbowman · 1 day
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Honkai Star Rail X Arknights | Yandere!Sunday X Sankta!Reader | Part Three
Sunday sits you down in a room that you can only compare to a conference space. You had walked through a long corridors littered with sparkling windows, golden statues. There was a room with a mini city in the centre. You didn't get a chance to look around though, Sunday was insistent that you follow close to him.
The room was round with an evenly round table, place eerily perfect in the center. Tall bookshelves that reach the ceiling cover the walls, some having library ladders next to them.
"Make yourself comfortable," Sunday says casually, running his finger tips across the top of the table as he makes his way to his seat, "We might be here for a while."
You uncomfortably shift within your seat, the cushion beneath you not as comfortable as you'd expect. Your poor ass.
"Now," Sunday interlaces his fingers, "Where should we begin, hmm? We already had polite introductions, what should we do next?"
You can't help but feel a bit uneasy; his casual demeaner is so off putting. You leg begins to bounce rapidly, a nervous tick you picked up.
You attempt to clear your throat.
"Well... let's go over what we already know," you say, trying to regain control over yourself.
You scoot a little in your chair, straightening your back and folding your hands.
"I am (Y/n), codename: Lamplight. I am a combat specialist and medical researcher in Oripathy. Uh... I'm from the region of Laterano, species: Sankta. I currently work under the association 'Rhodes Island' under the direction of Doctor Kal'tsit, Doctor Loriann, and Amiya. Uh... there's nothing really else that comes to mind... Oh! I am also highly dangerous as I am infected with Oripathy."
Sunday sits quietly, his lips lightly pursed, eyes closed as he takes in all this sudden information. All of these things... he's never heard of a single one of them. Sunday takes a deep breath before letting it go through his nose.
"Alright. Thank you for your introduction. Let us first go deeper into these statements. In return, I will explain as much and equally about me and the world around you. Does that seem fair, Lamplight?"
You nod your head, eyes slightly wide at him referring to you by your codename.
"Good. Then let's start with this 'Oripathy' you speak of. You say you're a researcher in this field while also being... infected?"
Your hands fiddle with one another, once again shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You clear your throat again.
"You just had to start there, huh...?" you say with a somber tone, "Alright, I'll tell you everything I know."
You begin to explain your home, how a powerful and dangerous material, 'Originium.' You explain the usages it has... and the horrible, deadly effects it has on the human body. You even roll up the pant sleeve to show a small collection of black crystals forming on the side of your shin. You even told him how you became infected.
"I was on a mission with Doctor Loriann when I got pierced by a Originium lump. Luckily, The Doctor was right there and was able to immediately slow and contain the growth of the Oripathy. I'm glad that I don't use Arts, or the growth would be a lot faster. You don't know just how lucky I am to have my Oripathy growth so slow. Other infected would kill to have theirs infection be so well maintained. I just hope it gives me enough time to live a somewhat fulfilling life."
Sunday's gaze during the whole time never left your form, and once you showed your leg, his eyes never stayed from the crystallin chunks that speckle your skin. He attempted at one point to touch, but you quickly grabbed his hand.
"I wouldn't, not unless you want to be infected too."
It was more of a warning than anything, of course, but you could never be too sure. You would never forgive yourself if you got an innocent person infected.
"I see... Well, let's continue our conversation, shall we?"
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moeblob · 8 months
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Pen doodles from yesterday and then digital for today
Katale and Rudyard but as little crime babies. Since he's known her for a while and just thought she looked like a little street thug despite being higher ranking than him in the crime organization at first, the cat-ear hairstyle was just A Thing for her. And it spawned the nickname he would use in private of "Kitty" and even when she grows her hair out and he grays even more he still calls her Kitty in private. They're literally just bffs who do crime and what more can you want of them??
#my characters#time for more lore in the tags#so it was brought to my attention that the funniest thing possible is to give them a few bases with my favorite meme#the color theory meme where everything is just too reminiscent of a bloody massacre#because honestly katale would be like hey rud hey i have the FUNNIEST idea ever look at this carpet pattern#and he looks at the very horrific carpet and just says go on#like keep going this is funny and very much the funniest thing we can do as crime lords keep going#and they do actually have that kind of decor in one of the nicer buildings#and the poor little agent who is on a mission to kill them walks in like HOLY CRAP ITS A MASSAC-- thats the carpet that is JUST the carpet#and has to take a minute to file that information away before proceeding#then stuff happens and the two crime bosses are like oh yeah that agent is our son now we adopted him its fine he can be here#also ruds sense of humor is super dry and he doesnt really SHOW the fact hes amused much but thats what makes kitty so happy when he jokes#he sounds very serious but hes enjoying himself and thats wonderful#like those weather reporters who see an off the wall temp and go OH YEAH EVERYONES DEAD IN THAT CITY#or the other weather man video where only some of the temps are off the wall so hes like#oh yeah this seems to be the safe area but if you go up north a bit its basically melted - there isnt anything to loot there dont bother#that is his sense of humor. hes super casual and acts like he didnt just say the funniest thing on the planet
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indigodawns · 2 months
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#these are just some thoughts re: friendship as a result of tonight that i need to jot down somewhere but#realising that i really do have a strict and set idea of Good Friend(ship) and what that entails to me#and id written people off bc i wasn't yk ~receiving love or friendship the way id prefer and i was angry with them for that/hurt about it#did i communicate that to them though? nooo. was i fully right in that? also no. like just bc i felt unheard didn't fully mean#that they were doing something wrong. they were trying in their own way (and sometimes they weren't really or it just wasn't nice)#but that's about how we match and how we communicate right? this is so silly that's so basic but it never fully clicked for me like this#i was blaming them for stuff and building up resentment without ever expressing that (and i still haven't yk dhshsjd)#and i think where i went ~wrong was in thinking that bc i felt that way they weren't ~giving me what i need#when it's like... but did i pick up on the ways in which they DID appreciate me and show me love etc? did i give them ANYTHING to work with?#(ok yes occasionally but also... tangent but i was watching a variety show and they were teasing woozi about how#he gives interviewers/hosts literally nothing to work with. like no extra information for them to ask about or tease him for or anything#and i was like ohhhhhh. yeah i do do that sometimes with friends and it's genuinely smth i don't really know how to do like#giving casual information (but not too much and not too little???) so they can then ask questions etc. so then if im like ughh#they never ask (the right) questions or show interest (or let me talk but that's a different thing dhsjdjd) it's like...#well do i give them the chance to? much to think about thank you woozi)#anyways where was i dhsjsnsnsjns idk but it's soooo annoying that i haven't figured this all out yet#but im slowly letting go off a bunch of resentment that has truly no business being here and im trying to self reflect and all that#and im honestly doing so shit some days but others days it's? finding stuff that matters to me on a deeper level ig?#and all of it really does pale in the face of multiple genocides and it's. but yk. if i want to keep fighting#i need to build a strong foundation and sort my shit out as well and be present so im really really trying#and beating my stupid stupid depression and brain with a stick until i get there
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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months
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All This Love
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound. “Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Warnings: not much in this one, unplanned pregnancy, some light smut, 18+ only!! <3
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Jake feels his pulse jump once, then twice as he walks through his front door. He’d already known you were here, not just because of your car parked out front, but because you’d barely left his company since he’d gotten the news. Still, the sound of you moving around his kitchen, and the smell of something heavenly wafting toward him makes his heart leap just a little in a way that is honestly unfamiliar to him.
Jake Hangman Seresin is not a ‘relationship’ guy. He hasn’t exactly been a one-night-stand guy either these past few years, but certainly he isn’t known for his commitment. Partly he could blame this on his schedule, his various and frequent deployments, moves and busyness, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that taking an endless string of women home was taking a toll on him.
Quietly, Jake hoped he’d meet someone, have a constant in his life to come home to, maybe have a few little mini-Jake’s running around too, but it also wasn’t really something he was actively seeking out. He knew being with him meant a lot of lonely nights, and he’d internalised the attitude that most women were not up for that.
And then he met you.
You’d laughed sweetly like you’d thought he was just kidding when he’d flirted with you, told him outright you’d expecting him to cancel on your first date, and then rambled about anything and everything for the next three hours as he happily listened.
You weren’t really his normal ‘type’, you weren’t overly affectionate with him off the bat, making your intentions known, you weren’t tall or bleached blonde or anything he was used to from the women who showed an interest in him, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. You were a little awkward, and dorky and you’d told him you thought he was funny, which wasn’t really one of the things most of the women he dated tended to point out. Needless to say, Jake had quickly found it very easy, very natural to adore you.
He’d gotten three and a half months with you before his orders came in. 
The two of you had grown close in that time, but you hadn’t really addressed or discussed what you were. He hadn’t really felt the need, or the pressure like he had in the past. He’d realised over the past few days that this might’ve been down to the fact that he hadn’t even really considered any other options besides the two of you eventually becoming ‘exclusive’. If Jake is completely honest, he’s been off the market since our first date.
Not until the imminent date of his deployment had he begun to take note of his rising anxiety, the complete opposite to the way he usually felt after informing a casual fling that he’d be going. With them, he didn’t expect more, he didn’t want to give them more either, but with you… Jake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how much he’ll be able to contact you while he’s gone, if you’ll make time for him, even if you’ll send him those care packages so many of the guys he knows often received while on the carrier…
The idea that you saw his upcoming deployment as the official end of whatever this is you have going on haunted him, and Jake was determined to make clear that when he returned in fourteen months time, he still wanted to see you.
He toes off his boots as best he can with the large bouquet in the crook of his elbow, before padding down the hall toward where the delicious smell is coming from, finding you buzzing around his kitchen in a manner that forces him to stop dead in his tracks to appreciate the sight.
This is what Jake has been wanting, but it's not until this very moment he realises just how much. It isn’t even about you cooking for him, no, he just craves the domesticity of coming home to somebody who looks up from what they’re doing with an expression like his arrival is the new best part of their day.
“Jake! I didn’t hear you come in!” you say with a smile and a laugh. That wasn’t exactly unusual for you. You didn’t often hear many things, considering you were hard of hearing. You weren’t completely deaf, in quiet rooms when he was facing you, you could hear him enough, helped by lip reading, or if he spoke directly into your ear. However, it was still significant enough that Jake had downloaded an ASL learning app, partly to communicate better with you, but also so that he could see your overjoyed surprise whenever he correctly signed something very simple to you.
“These are for you,” he steps closer, holding out the large bouquet of marigolds and roses he’d stopped for on the way home, making sure his mouth isn’t at all obscured by them as he does. He hadn’t skimped when he’d bought them, requesting the biggest package the florist offered and paying double what he’d ever paid before for flowers. It was worth it though, especially when once you’ve processed what he’s said, your face lights up all over again and you let out a soft little gasp as you move to meet him.
“They’re beautiful!” you croon as you bring the flowers to your nose. Jake had only ever bought flowers for his mother, and for a few girls around Valentine’s Day. They were always roses. He’d never bothered to ask what their preferred flower of choice was. With you, though, you had inadvertently told him on your first date while lost in a story about a failed garden you’d tried growing and how you adored copper marigolds and peach roses, but that no man had ever bought either for you, including your last boyfriend who’d seemed to think flowers were lame and unnecessary. He’d filed that information away, but curses himself for not using it any sooner as you smile widely back up at him, and push the flowers aside so that you can wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly.
“Thank you! You didn’t have to!” you say in between pecks to his lips, and Jake wraps the arm still holding the bouquet around your back, in the hopes that maybe you’ll stay pushed up against him just a little longer. You do, giggling softly as you continue to deliver soft little kisses to his lips, Jake dutifully returning each one, becoming aware of his own laughter joining your own as he does.
You pull away to grin up at him, and Jake drops one last, final kiss to your lips before giving you a slight squeeze, his own smile growing as you stare up at him.
“Baby, the smoke alarm is going off,” he informs you, chortling when you jump away from him in surprise, and quickly return to the stove to remove the pan from the hob. Jake follows you, placing your flowers down on the counter, and moving over to where the alarm sits high on his wall, reaching up to tap the button in the centre that switches it off.
“Sorry! The good news though is that dinner isn’t ruined!” you tell him happily, turning back around to go digging through one of his other cupboards. You straighten again when you find a large pitcher, and he watches you mill about for a moment, filling it with water before moving to place the bouquet of flowers inside. He feels his chest swell with pride as you primp and preen the roses and marigolds, and pictures you two weeks from now, with more and more petals falling from the flowers with every passing day, but refusing to throw them away because they make you think of him. The swelling of pride begins to turn into a swell of dread, and Jake really, really wishes he wasn’t leaving you in the morning.
You turn back to him and smile.
“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll finish this?” you suggest, and Jake immediately pouts.
“Why don’t I just stay here and help you plate up?” he says instead, making you frown playfully and shake your head.
“Jake, you need to shower!” you scold lightly.
“I showered on base,” he shrugs, and pushes away from his counter to capture your waist and draw you near again.
“Jake… just let me do this for you… you leave tomorrow…” it’s your turn to pout. Jake’s heart makes a good effort to leap out of his chest and into yours.
“Exactly. I leave tomorrow, so just let me stay with you as long as I can,” he poses, and you soften, resting your hands on his forearms.
“Jake…” you sigh, and bite your lip a little. “What’re you gonna do for the next fourteen months, huh?” you question playfully, shaking your head.
“Wish I was plating up dinner with you.” he answers immediately, then feels his cheeks heat up a little. Your gaze drops from his face, but you’re smiling softly, and rubbing your thumbs over his skin in a soothing manner.
“Okay,” you relent, before reaching up to cup his cheeks tenderly. “Okay.”
Jake leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he memorises the feeling of you holding him. You remain in pleasant quiet as the two of you go about preparing for dinner, Jake setting the table as you portion out the salad you’ve made.
Jake refrains from insisting you sit side by side as you eat, because he knows you’d struggle to hear him if you did, but after dinner, he does insist that the dishes can wait, convincing you to come up and shower with him instead.
You’ve barely stepped inside the glass cubicle when he’s pulling you closer, lips reaching out for yours and you giggle as you kiss him under the full stream of the shower head, laughing properly when he pulls back to spit a mouthful of water sideways out his mouth like a cartoon character. He grins at having made you laugh, but crowds you up against the wall almost instantly after, his smile pressed back against yours.
“M’gonna miss you.” he says right by your ear, before slipping his mouth down to your neck, and immediately sucking a small mark there. He knows your opinion on hickeys, so he’ll make sure the rest are somewhere you can hide them. You seem to squirm in his hold, your hands dropping from around his neck to press against his chest, his abdomen, though he knows you aren’t pushing him away, simply wishing to see his face.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you say after a moment, watching the water drop from his eyelashes, before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him near once again and pressing your chest up against his in a delightful manner.
“Promise you’ll come see me when I get shore leave?” He’s never asked this question before, and his heart immediately jumps into his throat. Usually he’d wait around for shore leave to go bar hopping, pick up a girl or two and show them a good time while he could. This time however, all Jake can think about is how best he can maximise all his spare moments for the next fourteen months to make sure they’re spent with you.
“I promise,” you say with another giggle, and it makes Jake pull back to look down at you. He’s not sure what he wants to say, if anything at all, but a beat passes where the two of you simply watch one another. Carefully your hand rises, skims along his cheek, but ultimately continues upwards where you smooth back some of the hair hanging down over his forehead.
“By my count we’ve got just under twelve hours,” you say then, and he can tell you’re trying not to sound so sad. It makes his stomach flop about.
“No time to waste, then, huh?” He leans in and murmurs against your lips.
Miraculously, you make it back to his bedroom somehow, shower water replaced with sweat now as you both work to make the most of the short time you have left together.
You let out a heavy breath of air as you adjust yourself once more, hands pressing against his taut abs, feeling the way the muscles move and tighten under your palms and fingers as you bounce in his lap. Your thighs are burning, but that's not going to be enough to stop you from chasing down another high. Jake’s hands at your hips take some of the initiative out of your control though, his grip firm and deliberate as he helps you move for him, forcing you up and damn-near slamming you back down again, his hips flexing in time to make sure he’s fucking you as deep as he can.
Your sounds of pleasure are muted against his lips, swallowed by him as he kisses you hungrily, one hand shooting up to clutch at the back of your neck when you briefly break apart. With one hand helping you move now, he begins tilting his hips more and more, his legs bent at the knee behind you, powering his thrusts and completely taking you apart. He lets you break away from his mouth, but doesn’t move the hand on your neck, and through half-shut eyes, you can see him watching you intently, his jaw clenched as he takes you in. He slows down.
“You look so pretty riding me,” Jake’s voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, and his words are punctuated by tiny grunts of exertion that make you mewl. “Gonna miss the way you feel around me,” he goes on, using his hold on you to grind up into you with each slow thrust. You gasp when his hand on your thigh pulls a little, widening your legs around him and making you take him even more.
“Fuck! Jake…!” you cry out weakly, doing your best to keep your momentum, but with this new positioning, you barely have enough strength to lift yourself from him. Jake doesn't seem to mind, groaning in approval and suddenly sitting up, twisting your still connected hips to spin you beneath him now, his hand hiking your leg up over his shoulder as you go.
You gasp again, your own hands clutching his shoulders as he begins fucking you impossibly deep, picking up his pace again as he hovers above you, one hand now in the mattress beside your head.
“Take me so well, sweetheart,” he grunts out, closing the distance between you to press his lips back to yours. You chase him when he pulls away again, whining in disapproval, but his lips dont go too far, as he falls to his forearms and really begins to fuck you.
“Gotta give it to you so good you’ll be stuck on me, huh? Won’t think about anyone but me while I’m gone?” he goes on, and all you can do is nod.
“You gonna cum?” he asks a little more coherently, and you nod, because the way he’s driving into you nearly has you toppling over already. “Yeah? Go on, let me feel you, want you to cum around me, honey.”
His words alone are enough to push you off the edge, more so when you feel him join you, and you arch up into him, curl your hips against his own ragged thrusts, desperate to keep him from pulling out halfway through. He doesn’t seem to be planning to this time, and you mewl and moan in delight at the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him dripping out of you when he gives you a few last firm thrusts.
Jake pants above you, the hand by your head slipping down to caress your cheek as you both take a moment to come down. He kisses you, long and deep and nearly enough to get you going again. You wait patiently when he pads off to his bathroom to find you a cloth, and you barely notice yourself dozing off until you wake sometime later.
The bed is empty, though the bedside lamp has remained on, and you sit up properly, rubbing your eyes.
“Jake?” you call out, but you don't see him in the bedroom or bathroom. Frowning, you scoot out of his bed and grab one of his old squad shirts, slipping it on as you move out of his bedroom in search of him.
“Jake?” you call out again, trailing your hand along the wall as you step softly down the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t help that you can’t hear him, but your worries are belayed the moment you turn around the corner and into the kitchen, and you’re greeted with his bare back as he stands at the sink. He’d pulled some sweatpants on, but they’re hanging low on his hips, enough for you to see the little dimples at the base of his back, and you itch you wrap your arms around him again.
You try to be as quiet as you can as you move up behind him, relishing in the small jump of surprise he does when you trail your hands over his skin and around his front, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You feel him chuckle, feel the deep reverberations through his chest as he does, before he’s pulling you by one arm around to his front instead, where your face now rests against his chest instead.
“I thought you’d fallen asleep.” he tells you, leaning down to absently press a kiss to your hair. You shrug, but peek over your shoulder to watch as he continues to wash dishes, moving with him when he has to move, loving the way he briefly wraps you up whenever he does so, as if he’s worried his twisting might scare you off.
“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly, even as he scrubs down the pan you’d used to cook dinner.
“I didn’t want you to have to wake up tomorrow and do the dishes.” He tells you quietly, like he was worried about admitting this to you, like it was something he should feel guilty about. You coo, and squeeze him a little tighter, just as another thought occurs to you. You’d meant to talk to him about it when he got home from work, but with all the messing around that had happened, you’d totally forgotten.
“Do you want me to drive you in tomorrow?” you ask, feeling the way he pauses. You look up at him after he stays quiet for another beat, and find him staring down at you oddly. Your eyes meeting seems to break him out of his reverie though, and he blinks rapidly a few times.
“You don’t mind? It’s an early start…” he tells you, trying to warn you off, but you see right through him. You can tell it means something to him, though you don’t know what, and a part of you wonders if he’d ever had a girlfriend drive him to base for a deployment before.
“I’m not going to see you for fourteen months, Jake, of course I don’t mind.” you say as if it's obvious. You watch him purse his lips, but smile softly.
“I’d like that.” he says at last, moving one arm to wrap around you permanently now, continuing his task one handed until you extract yourself from him to grab a drying cloth. He makes a sound you only feel briefly, but you shoot him an amused shake of your head and remind him that the faster the chore is done, the faster the two of you can go back to bed. He stops his complaining then, and when the sink is empty and the dishes all stacked away, he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs again with your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping them there until you both fall asleep again.
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Jake can’t stop looking back over his shoulder at you as he stands with the rest of Dagger, getting ready to board. You’re right by the front of the crowd of family that has gathered to say goodbye, which doesn’t make it any easier. If you’d disappeared amongst the people, he could fool himself into thinking you weren’t there, but as it is, he can see you clearly, and it’s eating him up.
Even Rooster can tell, watching and following his gaze every time Jake longingly glances back at you, his brown eyes trailing to the beautiful girl in the front of the crowd, occasionally conversing with the people around her, but mostly just eying the group of aviators with a sad little smile.
“You should say goodbye.” Rooster tells him quietly, eyeing up the officers ahead of them and correctly guessing that they would be about to board. Jake swallows, and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.
“We’ve already said goodbye.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy or cold, but he really didn’t want to think about leaving you anymore than necessary. Beside him, Rooster shuffles and shrugs.
“Say goodbye again.”
Jake stays quiet for a moment, before he turns to look at his wingman, and then at the line ahead. Quickly shifting his bag and stuffing it into the other man’s hands, Rooster only nods at him before Jake’s body is moving, easily pushing past the junior officers who step out of his way quickly. He barely takes note of the saultes he receives, because his eyes are set only on you, the way you watch him with a frown, but even as he gets right up to you, and you open your mouth to speak, he keeps moving, cupping your jaw and pressing a series of kisses against your lips.
When he pulls back you frown is gone, replaced with a lightness he hasn't seen since before he’d told you he’d be leaving.
“Will you wait for me?” he asks breathlessly, aware now that the carrier had begun boarding, and he needed to get back.
“What?” you ask with a slight laugh. Jake only leans in to kiss you again, and from somewhere behind him, he can hear a few servicemen whistle. You’re still giggling when he pulls back, but he digs into his uniform pockets and brings out his keys, pressing them into your hands.
“Wait for me.” he says again, waiting until you nod your assent before looking away from you. Through the crowd, he can hear someone, Rooster calling him, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I’ve got to go.” he tells you dumbly, and kisses you again.
“I know. Go! I’ll be here when you get back!” you assure him with a laugh, kissing him back but pushing him away at the same time. Jake grins upon hearing the words, and steps in to kiss you again, before finally dragging his body forcefully away from yours, and back to his team.
Phoenix is giving him a funny look that he ignores as he takes his bag back from Rooster with a silent nod of thanks. He receives a pat on the shoulder from the other man, who looks down his sunglasses at him thoughtfully. Jake sees his eyes trail off and he knows Rooster is looking at you again. He pats Jake’s shoulder once more, his lips tipping up teasingly.
“She’s cute,” Rooster tells him. Jake eyes him as he replaces his sunglasses.
“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”
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“Hey babygirl, it’s good to see you,” Jake can’t help his wide grin even as he stares at your somewhat blank, reserved expression. Something in his chest wobbles as you eventually give him a weak smile, and he nervously adjusts his camera.
“Hi, Jake.” You say. It only makes his stomach wobble too.
“Is the software working okay? I have captions?” he asks, double checking the program on his end to make sure for the fourth time that everyone is tip top. You nod.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is working fine. I even put my hearing aids in… I’ve missed your voice,” you tell him.
Your words go a small way to alleviate his anxiety, but it’s been four months since he’s communicated with you via more than just email, and he can’t help but listen to the voices in his head from long before he met you, telling him that you don’t want to wait for him any longer.
“I’m honoured, you hate wearing those,” he says with a stiff laugh. You smile a little wider, but don’t seem to relax.
“Too much noise,” you agree. A quiet beat passes between you and Jake steels himself for what he knows is to come. You both speak at exactly the same time.
“Listen, baby, I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to do this sooner, but–”
“–I’m pregnant.”
Jake freezes, and so do you.
“Oh, thank god,” he hears himself say outloud, his entire body sagging as the weight of what he’d thought you were about to say leaves his body entirely.
“That’s… that’s not what I was expecting…” all stress seems to have left your body too, and for the first time since your call connected, you too appear to be completely at ease. “I thought you were going to break up with me…” you tell him, making Jake start.
“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Jake exclaims, before quickly quientening his voice. “Christ you scared me,” he tells you, letting out a sigh of relief.
Your face is a mixture of amusement and bashfulness.
“You’re more scared of me breaking up with you, than me being pregnant?” you ask, and Jake finds himself nodding immediately.
“I wouldn’t say scared, per se…”
“Your own words, Jake,” you remind him, and he chuckles, but shrugs. You both pause for a moment as you take in the wealth of new information and relationship security you now bask in. Jake jumps then, and leans in closer to his screen.
“How far along are you?” he asks, unsure of what really to ask in this situation, it’s honestly not one he’d ever been in before, but he’s proud to discover his mind immediately has calibrated for it.
“I’m going to the doctor in the morning, but I’m guessing around four months,” you tell him with a slightly wry smile. Jake laughs.
“I should hope so,” Jake chortles, before turning serious again when he sees you only laugh weakly.
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, then quickly, for your sake, adds; “For the record, I want whatever you want, I just want it with you.”
Your face travels through several emotions, but you at last give him a watery little smile.
“I really thought you’d break up with me, I haven’t even thought about anything else,” you admit, and Jake feels something else in his chest wobble.
“Honey, unless you’re planning on breaking my heart right now, I’m not breaking up with you any time soon… or ever, if I’m honest… I’m sorry that’s not been clearer…” he tells you, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the very thought.
You were it for him, he thinks, he can’t imagine not coming home to you. He’d even considered throwing his medical on purpose the other day, just so he could wait for your email he knew was likely to come. Jake has never even considered that before, not even for family. A knock on the door makes his face fall, and he turns to glare at the ensign who pokes their head in.
“Liuetenant Seresin, sir, Captain Mitchell requires you on deck.”
Jake sighs, but nods grimly.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Sir!”
Jake looks back at you, already smiling sadly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I need to go,” he says tiredly. He’d wished he got more time to talk with you, but especially about this.
“It’s okay Jake, we’ll be fine,” you tell him. Jake can’t stop the quirk of his lips as he stares at you.
“‘We’ huh?” he asks teasingly, feeling something like excitement, or perhaps pure, sheer joy race through his veins. You cock your head but your arm moves, he can’t see where exactly, but he suspects your hand now rests against your belly.
“Yeah. We.”
Jake swallows thickly, and nods, unable to fight the smile that pulls at his lips.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he hears another knocking on his door and huffs. “Send me everything you can, I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again, okay? Send me everything.”
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Jake walks quietly alongside Dagger as they return to their ready room, listening to them discussing possible ‘new’ hand signs for each other to signal readiness for the manuevour they’d been working on not even twenty minutes ago, prior to landing. He checks back into the conversation long enough to watch the proposed sign that Payback suggests, and immediately begins shaking his head.
“That’s ‘math’ in sign language,” Jake tells him, earning a look from Phoenix.
“Since when do you know ASL?” she asks, not fully sounding accusatory, but certainly not shying away from that tone either. Jake looks up at her and opens his mouth, but it’s Bob who gets there before him.
“He’s been practising with me,” Bob informs her, making Phoenix only more curious. She turns back to Jake expectantly. Jake shifts on his feet as the group comes to a halt, clearly also wanting to know what this is about, and for a brief moment, he considers telling them to mind their damn business.
That thought passes though, his spite warmed into a quiet kind of glee at the mere thought of you, his chest tingling slightly under the picture he has tucked into his flight suit.
“My girlfriend is deaf,” he says at last with a small shrug. Phoenix stays eying him for a second, even more curiosity filling her gaze, but after a moment she relents. He knows she’ll have questions later, but for now seems to be content not to make him answer them in front of everyone.
“Huh.” she says, and with that the squad continues moving.
Eventually, Phoenix and Halo peel off to the women’s locker rooms, the boys moving on to theirs, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy and Bob making straight for the showers. Jake can’t shower yet, though, he has precious cargo to return to safety, so moves straight for his locker, peeling it and carefully removing the photograph from his breast. Using the wad of blu-tac he’d acquired a few weeks back, he gingerly sticks the image backup in its home when he’s not flying, making sure not to get any fingerprints on it as he does.
“That was a good exercise,” Rooster’s voice makes Jake almost jump out of his skin, and he turns to look over his shoulder, quickly shooting the other man a nod.
“Yeah,” he replies simply, his lips thinning into a line as Rooster steps closer, opening his own locker but inevitably glancing over at Jake’s in the process. Jake tenses up as he feels Bradshaw pause, but after only a few agonising seconds, Rooster is moving again.
“Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Jake reaches up and rapps the ultrasound fondly.
“Twenty-three weeks. She’s supposed to be the size of a peach, but hell if I know what I’m looking at,” Jake shrugs and rolls his eyes, even letting loose a small smile when Rooster leans over to get a closer look. After a moment he too pulls a face and they meet eyes.
“Yeah, looks like topography to me,” Rooster shrugs as well. Jake looks back to the scan thoughtfully.
“Oh. Yeah. There’s a mountain range…. Small valley…” Jake trails off as the showers seem to shut off in near-unisen. 
He quickly shoots Rooster a steely-eyed stare, which thankfully the other man seems to understand the meaning of, because all too soon their conversation comes to an end and Jake shuts his locker door protectively.
Their veil of secrecy is shattered however, when Javy, dressed in only his towel, waltzes right up to Jake, opens his locker door again, places a kiss to the ultrasound, then carries right on as Jake quickly closes it behind him. Rooster shoots him a look, and before the others can make an appearance, Jake explains himself.
“Only Javy knows,” he grinds out, but can’t find himself too annoyed. Javy had immediately taken to his Uncle role, sending little gift packages to Jake's house for you to discover.
The ‘My Uncle Is Single’ onesie was particularly cute.
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Jake doesn’t even really have to push his way to the front of the line at the docks. Not only had Dagger made a path for him, but they were actively hauling at the collars of younger sailors, and from behind him he can hear various calls of ‘make way!’ and when one sailor protests a little too loudly, Phoenix saying ‘Hangman’s about to meet his kid for the first time, do you really want to get in the way of that?’. He makes a note to thank them later, but then he sees you, and he sees his baby, and all thoughts fly out of his brain.
He rushes up to you, gathering you both in one tight hug before you even seem to realise it’s him. But then he hears you laughing waterly, and he pulls his face back enough to plant a long, passionate kiss to your lips.
“Hey baby, hi!” he gushes cupping your cheek in his hand, before quickly extracting himself only a little, and focusing his attention on the bundle of excited squeals in your arms.
“Hi Princess, c’mere, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you!” Jake continues to talk before you can even get a word in edgewise. You laugh again, and shift the baby on your hip enough and Jake steps in again quickly relieving you of the weight. His daughter is immediately enraptured by the pins and shinies on his uniform, and she babbles talkatively up at him. Jake had shared his worries with you that she wouldn’t know him, recognise him, but all that is quickly abated when she stuffs a fist in her mouth and all but collapses against his chest.
His whole body fills with a warmth like he’s never known and he looks over at you.
“I think it’s too loud for her,” you say with a laugh, cuddling in closer to the other side of his chest. Jake looks between the two of you lovingly, adjusting his girl so he can show off some of the ASL he’d managed to learn in the last fourteen months.
Sorry, he signs carefully. Just – little – longer. Team – want – meet – you – both.
Your face lights up in recognition and your eyes get a little mistier. So – good – now! You sign back slowly for him, just as he feels several presences come to an anxious stop behind him.
“Bob helped,” he says, getsuring over at Bob, who steps forward with a short little wave.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he tells you, before his eyes shift to the baby in Jake’s arms. He tips his hat again at the girl who, as Jake turns, seems to be quietly inspecting the newcomers, drooling all over her tiny little hand. Bob does another little wave, more goofy this time, and she giggles, but turns her face inward briefly to Jake’s chest even more.
Jake uses his free arm to pull you in a little, and nods at his team.
“Baby, this is Dagger, that’s Bob,” he briefly pauses to show you Bob’s sign name, before he goes on to point out the others. “Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and this is–” he gets cut off as Javy pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
“Uncle Javy!” he announces, balling you up in a tight hug. You laugh and nod.
“Thank you for all the gifts for her! She loves them!” you tell him, which only makes him smile wider, and puff his chest out some as he rounds on Jake and his daughter.
“Can I hold her now?” he asks, with his arms already out. Jake’s features drop into a friendly glare.
“No.” he says firmly, tugging the baby closer. He’s rewarded when she begins to fuss a little at all the new attention, and Jake quickly begins shushing and cooing at her, only for her to relax and fall quiet, her tiny fists now clutching desperately into his jacket.
“That’s right baby, daddy’s not gonna let Uncle Javy take you away from him.” He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her little back, snuggling her closer.
Javy rolls his eyes, but relents, pointing at Jake and you.
“Ya’ll got one week, then I’m crashing,” he tells you. Jake shakes his head, but you nod, looking up at him. You sign ‘babysitter?’ at him, then getsure at Dagger in general, and after he puts two and two together, he’s shaking his head.
“No. No way,” he says. You nod again and gesture back to the group.
“No,” he says.
“Yes.” you reply, Bob nodding quickly along with you. Jake rolls his eyes up at the sky, then back down at you. He looks over at where Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Payback have all started cooing and making faces at his girl, making her giggle and kick her feet, and lets out a sigh.
“Fine. Maybe.”
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1K notes · View notes
slttygeto · 9 months
Text
SAVE MY LOVE FOR YOU | MANJIRO SANO.
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જ⁀➴ synposis: neither you nor mikey seem to have pulled out cupid's arrow despite being separated in this timeline. lucky for you two, you have the perfect group of friends for you to reunite in every life.
જ⁀➴ content warning: manga spoilers! (the ending), racer! mikey, best friend! kazutora, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, mikey is very confident and famous, making out on the first date, se.x in the changing room, se.x on the couch, protective sex (wrap it before you tap it), overstimulation, cunnilingus, mikey makes you cum three times, he's a sweetheart.
જ⁀➴ word count: 10k
જ⁀➴ note: thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again (so loyal!) i had so much fun writing this, even though it took me a while. and thank YOU guys for 8k followers! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe.
ʚ⁺˖↪ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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One of Takemichi’s biggest achievements in life is giving his friends the life he promised them when he first discovered what being a time leaper was. It wasn’t easy, he fought like hell but it was worth it at the end. All of his friends are alive, his girlfriend is soon going to become his wife and was preparing for their wedding—it couldn’t get more perfect than this. The man sat next to this big window of a very quiet and fancy place, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that his friend was walking back towards their table.
Manjiro watched as the black haired male fidgeted nervously in his seat. It was his idea to take him out, help him loosen up a little since Takemichi has been so caught up in wedding stress. He deserved a day like this. Especially with how far he’s come and the sacrifices he made for them to be here in the first place.
“If you fidget again, you might break the chair,” Manjiro teases him as he takes a seat across from him. He watches as the male flinches before resting his forehead on the table. Takemichi heaves out a long sigh.
“This is way too fancy, Mikey…”
“Well, what did you think? That I’d be allowed to go a coffee shop down the street where anyone can recognize me?” Manjiro flashes his friend a grin, a little proud that his career mad him get this far. And Takemichi sighs in defeat, accepting the fact that their little hangouts were going to be like this from now on.
“Plus, you need this more than I do. Wedding preparations are wearing you out. Maybe attending Emma’s wedding first will help putting you in a good mood before the big day comes up.” It was true, but there was something else to be discussed and Takemichi wasn’t sure of how to bring it up.
Was this even the right moment for it? He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to discuss this so casually. But he needed to get it off his chest. It was one of the first things he noticed when the last time leap happened—how it felt off. He wasn’t even sure at first, he thought he was just imagining things, that the time leaps took a toll on him. But one look at Chifuyu confirmed that he wasn’t tripping. Someone was missing in the picture.
“Hey, do you remember ever having a girlfriend in the past?” Takemichi tries to be casual about this, tries not to make it seem like it was a life or death situation but his facial expression fails him. It was so serious that it makes Mikey pause eating his food.
“Huh?”
“A girlfriend, or perhaps a girl? Do you remember being involved with a girl romantically?” At first, Takemichi was hesitating on telling his friend about this. After all, there’s no nice way to ask this question without making it seem like you are calling your friend a total loser. But he remember his conversation with Chifuyu, and he knows that if there is anyone to trust when it comes to information about the past, it’s either him or Naoto.
“I remember her, we didn’t talk that much but she was definitely there,” Chifuyu says, still holding the cold beer in his hand. Takemichi had invited him to his apartment while Hinata was out shopping, because he couldn’t just discuss this kind of stuff over the phone.
“Through it all, right?”
“Mhm, you remember her too Michi, you’re just hesitant.” Chifuyu was right. Takemichi knew what he saw in all of the timelines, he is sure that there was someone and Mikey always looked so protective of you, never let anyone near you. He’s never seen his friend like that, and so for him to be separated from her in this final timeline just didn’t make sense. He needed to do something about it.
“Michi, are you trying to tell me something?” It seemed like Mikey refused to take the situation seriously, and no one could blame him. What was supposed to be a fun hang out with his best friend was turning into a serious conversation and faster than he had anticipated.
“You were in love, Mikey.” This sentence makes his face fall. Takemichi sighs before leaning back in his seat, stirring the drink placed in front of him.
“Each time I went back in time and tried to fix things, it led me to a different timeline—a different outcome. In all of them, you were involved with this girl—you were different,” Takemichi pauses as he looks up at his friend. “No matter how bad things turned out to be, she was always there and seemed to be the only person to pull you out of this dark cloud. Last time, way before that big fight happened—“ He almost cringes when he remembers how bad it was. “You two weren’t together anymore. And I’m not sure why or how, but that seemed to worsen things for you. And if I’m not mistaken, she did end up dying at one point.”
Manjiro was trying his best to process what was being said to him. He was quiet, attentive and did not know what to say. He wasn’t opposed to the idea that younger him had found love, he was more upset that he must’ve fucked up some way for this mysterious girl to leave him and not want to be involved with him anymore. But he had no memory of her. No name, no address—how old was she? Were they both the same age? Was she older? What was she like? She must’ve been super patient with him because his teenage self was a menace, whiny and way too needy.
“Do you remember what she was like?” Mikey breaks the silence, his eyes going from his drink to his friend’s face who hums, trying his best to remember some of the features.
“I’m not sure, all I remember is that she was very loyal to you. She had a bonten tattoo on the back of her neck to match yours.” Takemichi remembers vividly the Bonten timeline, where he had tried to visit Mikey at that one abandoned building. He remembers watching her as she stood near the leader with careful eyes, a warm touch that contrasted her partner’s cold demeanor. She seemed to give Mikey what he lacked—warmth, love and a home.
“Where was she during the last fight?”
“I have no idea, but she didn’t want to be around you,” Takemichi cringes at the confession.
It’s true, she and Manjiro were like strangers in this timeline, but it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t meet again. After all, this mysterious girl was also friends with the rest of Toman. Takemichi wasn’t sure who exactly was her closest friend in the gang, and it made the chances of meeting her very slim.
“How do you know so much, though?” Mikey starts, taking a bite from his pastry. “You can remember that I was a piece of shit to her, but not her face?” It was a natural question, and no offense was taken by Takemichi who shrugged his shoulders.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I got some answers from Chifuyu and Naoto. We know this girl, but we tried to look at every picture with Toman and she was just never there. Almost like a ghost.”
“And you’re sure she isn’t dead in this present time?” This was Takemichi’s least favorite theory. Something must’ve happened in the past, she was nowhere to be found and the guy didn’t have time to ask everyone if they remember a certain girl being involved with the gang. All he could hope for was that she was alive and that nothing bad happened to her. Unlike that one timeline where she does end up getting killed, Takemichi hoped that she somehow survived and made it in the present time.
“I hope that she isn’t.” Takemichi confesses, almost gloomily. “But one thing is for sure—if she was close to somebody in Toman, there’s a chance she might attend either mine or your sister’s wedding. Let’s not lose hope.”
--
You are invited to the wedding of an old friend. You remember Emma as being the light of any room she walks into, and seeing her get married to the one person she’s always had a crush on makes you grin from ear to ear as you hold the wedding invitation in your hands. You are not particularly close to the couple, but you remember bumping into them a couple of times and every time you would pray that nothing bad happens and separates them because their happiness is truly contagious.
The wedding takes place in about two days, and you learn that you are not the only one invited when you hear your doorbell ring.
“You’re invited to Emma and Draken’s wedding, right?” Kazutora stands at your door and you snort at how excited he is. You’ve been friends with him for almost a decade now, you’ve seen each other at your lowest and you couldn’t deny that your friendship with the man was one of a kind. He pestered you like you were a little sister, and no matter how annoying he was to you, he happened to be one of the few people who were truly there for you when you needed them.
“Mhm, she even called me and told me she really wants to see me.” You smile when you remember the phone call. She was sweet enough to ask for your number when you bumped into her three months ago, and now that you look back at it—it was definitely to invite you to her wedding. You let Kazutora walk inside your place and the man makes himself comfortable on your couch.
“Good. You do need to get out of the house, it’s starting to become annoying,” he says with a light tone, and he sees you roll your eyes before you take a seat next to him.
“Sure, I do need to socialize a little.”
“Not a little, a lot.”
“Shut up, I get it.” You smack Kazutora’s arm and he laughs before grabbing the remote control. He chooses a random show on Netflix before grabbing his phone to order takeout. You can’t even argue with him or tell him you had some left-over food from yesterday because he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.
Kazutora was right. You rarely ever went out unless you were obligated or the man dragged you to an event. It felt as though you dreaded the thought of going out and having to meet people. But attending Emma’s wedding didn’t sound like a bad idea. As long as the people there were as sweet as her.
Which made you realize another thing.
“It’s crazy how we both knew Emma, but we didn’t become friends through her.” You say outloud and your friend hums. You two became friends because you happened to be hanging out near a cat café. You both happened to be rescuing the same kitten, and decided that it was the start of your very long friendship.
“True, which also means that you’ve never met one of my closest friends and Emma’s brother.” You tilt your head in confusion.
“Who?”
“Mikey.” You’ve never heard of that name in your life. Then again, you’ve never been to Emma’s house or were that close to her in the first place. All you knew was that she had a massive crush on this Draken dude who you saw recently and that was that. Anything about her family was simply none of your business.
“Yeah, I don’t know him.” You simply shrug.
“He’s a pretty famous racer actually,” oh? That was a first. “But he likes to keep his personal life mostly private. Last time, he came to my place wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants—I thought I was getting robbed.”
You snort at the thought of your friend being absolutely terrified from his own close friend. But this made you a little curious about this Mikey. If he was as famous as Kazutora claims, why have you never seen him on TV before?
“You’re such a scaredy cat. “ You tease your friend, nudging him with your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah. Says the same person who cried when she found me on her couch after opening the door for me at night.”
“I forgot!”
“Say that to the person who will murder you in your sleep.”
--
Emma’s wedding was as intimate as it could be. You weren’t complaining, you hated big weddings where people didn’t even know each other. And right off the bat, you could tell that the people invited to the couple’s wedding were loved ones and have seen them grow up together.
You don’t feel out of place, but you are still a little closed off as Kazutora marches towards his group of friends. You refused to go with him mainly because it would be so awkward and you wanted to give your friend some space to hang out with his own group of friends. And so you stand next to the drinks, pour yourself some water and hold onto your cup while looking around the place.
It was small, but not too small. You take notice of the flowers hanging by the ceiling and the cake sitting in the corner. There’s soft music playing in the background and despite the number of people present, it is not loud enough to annoy you. Perhaps if you were to get married one day, you wanted a ceremony just like this.
You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Kazutora’s hand around your wrist and you send him a look that he knows a little too well.
Don’t you dare-
“Come! They wanna meet you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, and you hear his friends laugh at the contrast in your expressions. While Kazutora is so excited to introduce you to his friends, you look as though you don’t even want to be here.
“There she is! Give her some time and she will warm up to you guys,” you give a tight lipped smile and you can feel your cheeks warming up at the attention. You aren’t exactly awkward with people, but being introduced like this wasn’t a situation you would ever put yourself into.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitsuya.” A man with lavender hair extends his hand out and the smile on his face helps you relax a little. You shake hands with him and introduce yourself back, and suddenly everyone was telling you who they were.
Beside Baji (whom you’ve already seen in pictures before), everyone else is a new face. There was a set of twins, Souya and Nahoya. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, and then there was Hakkai and Chifuyu. They were all nice and welcoming, didn’t make you feel awkward at all. But you notice how Chifuyu’s stare lingers on you for a bit longer than the rest, and you don’t shy away from asking him if there was something he needed.
“Is there anything you need or?”
“Oh no,” Chifuyu starts and shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed that you caught him staring at you so intensely, but he continues nonetheless. “You just look familiar, that’s all.”
Familiar? It wasn’t exactly impossible, but you were still sure that you’ve never met Chifuyu before.
“Maybe we met outside or something, or maybe Kazutora showed you a pic?” You ask the male, and he quickly darts his eyes towards Kazutora.
 “Actually, yeah. I think that’s where I saw you.” He lets go of the conversation pretty quickly after this, leaving you standing confused next to your friend. You don’t really question it, perhaps he did believe you and it was all in his head. But it was still a weird interaction altogether.
You are quickly introduced to a new person, and your interaction with him isn’t any less weird than the previous one. Takemichi stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, and you see Chifuyu pinch his side which makes you furrow your eyebrows. What the fuck was going on here?
“Are you okay—“
“You just look very familiar.” Again? You almost roll your eyes in annoyance. If they were playing games with you, this surely wasn’t a fun one. But you decide to give a proper answer to this observation and shake your head.
“It’s probably all in your head, I’m sorry. I have never seen you in my life.”
Despite how warm and gentle you look, you are strong minded and don’t shy away from situations like these. Takemichi finds himself smiling at the thought.
I can see why her and Mikey are perfect for each other.
Takemichi, just like Chifuyu, lets go of the conversation very easily and you find yourself even more annoyed than before. If one more person tells you that you look familiar, you might just tell them to fuck off. But you’re distracted by Kazutora dragging you to take a seat, indicating that the ceremony was about to start.
You watch as the best men step out and stand next to the groom who looks as though he is about to burst into tears at any moment. It is a sweet thing to witness in real time, the same man you remember meeting three months ago holding a bag of groceries while Emma was holding nothing but her purse. He was truly head over heels, and to be able to witness him devote himself and promise to love and cherish her, to be there for her and hold her when things get tough felt like witnessing a love story straight from the books.
The after-party starts shortly after, and you take notice of how the quiet and intimate vibes remain present throughout the whole night. You are sat at a table all alone, Kazutora had only left your side a few moments prior to grab food for you both and so you decide to just scroll on your phone for a bit. But you are quickly robbed of your alone time when your friend comes back and it seems as though he’s dragging someone with him.
“(Name), this is Mikey. Mikey, this is (name). He’s the friend that I told you about yesterday.” Mikey is anything but how you imagined him to be. Cocky, arrogant, maybe a little self-centered since that’s how everyone who rose to fame behaved even around their friends. But he is… closed off. He can hold eye contact, but you take notice of the small blush painting the apples of his cheeks at having to be introduced like this.
You two seemed to have that in common.
You give a small smile in response and extend your hand, Mikey sees it and mirrors your actions. You don’t think much of it, it’s a hand shake after all—but the moment the palm of your head meets his, you feel electricity shock through your body and you both pull away with a slight hiss.
“Shit-“
“Ouch.”
You’re both holding your hands back, but then you look at him and he feels different. For some odd reason, this young man you had just been introduced to looks at you as though he’s been looking for you for a long time. Your heart skips a beat. His eyes are intense, and he doesn’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you dart them back towards Kazutora with red cheeks.
Your friend watches the scene unfold before him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. He had hopes that two of his closest friends would get along, and it seemed to be going just fine.
“Wow, am I interrupting something?” The playful tone to his voice seems to make the heat travel all over your body, and both you and Mikey smack him at his comment.
“Don’t be such a dickhead.” You look adorable when you try to be threatening, Mikey thinks. But he also thinks that it must be you.
The girl Takemichi told him about a few days earlier, it has to be you. He doesn’t know how or why, but the hand shake made him feel different about you. It was cheesy to be thinking this way, Mikey would’ve probably teased anyone else if they had told him this. But you were staring at him with pretty eyes and pink cheeks, even your stare was a shy one up until you looked at Kazutora.
You bicker with Kazutora for a few more moments until Mikey sees him lift up his hands in defeat, a triumphant smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at this.
“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone if that’s what you really want.” This little-
“That’s not what I said!” Your face is as red as a tomato, watching Kazutora walk away to chit-chat with some of his friends. Mikey finds himself snickering a little at this.
“Laughing at my misery?” You tell the man with a small grumble and he shrugs his shoulders before pulling out a chair.
“It was entertaining—can I?” You nod in response and Mikey takes a seat next to you. Your body immediately relaxes around him, and given that you were the only two people sitting at this table, you don’t find yourself feeling awkward as you strike a conversation with the man.
“So, you like bikes?” The question is genuine, but the way you phrase it has Mikey throwing his head back with a small laugh.
“I do, how were you able to tell?” He props his elbow on the table before resting his chin on his hand. He is grinning, and the way he’s staring at you makes your stomach flutter.
“A little birdie told me you’re a pretty famous racer,” You grin in return and mirror his actions, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Mikey takes notice of what you are trying to do and lets out another laugh.
“I am, and yes I do love bikes.”
“I know, Mikey.” You chuckle at his sincerity and you see him shrug his shoulders.
“Hey, I’m an honest man. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t lying.”
“Honestly, you look like a terrible liar.” You giggle a little when he lets out a gasp, feigning being offended.
“I am an amazing liar!”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah! For example, me being an amazing liar is a lie in itself,” Mikey finds himself grinning from ear to ear when his little joke makes you laugh really hard. He truly hopes that you were her, otherwise he would be pretty bummed.
“Alright comedian, I’m getting a little hungry. Wanna grab some food?” Manjiro doesn’t say no, and so you stand up and head towards the display of various types of snacks and food to fill your plate.
The night seemed to be going pretty well.
--
You spend the rest of the night talking to Mikey as though you’ve known each other for years. He lets you talk with Emma and Draken to congratulate them, and you don’t notice the smile that’s on her face when she sees you walk away with her brother. In fact, you fail to notice the various pairs of eyes lingering on you both as you sit down at the very corner, seemingly thinking that you are away from prying eyes, but you were obviously wrong. You and Manjiro looked like you were on a date.
The after-party does eventually come to an end. Kazutora tells you to get ready and you put on the coat you brought with you in case it got cold at night (which it did). Mikey walks you out of the venue, but before you can follow Kazutora to his car, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.
“Hey wait,”
“Yeah?” A part of you was hoping that the conversation was going that way, you had a lot of fun with Mikey during the few hours you hung out with him and you were hoping that he would do something about it.
“I had a lot of fun, and it wasn’t even my own wedding,” he starts with a chuckle. “And I was wondering if we could hang out again.” Oh, he was bold. You liked that.
You smile at this, and you remove your wrist from his grasp before wrapping it around his hand, grabbing it firmly.
“I would love to, Mikey.” You exchange phone numbers and you walk towards Kazutora’s car. You wave at Mikey, you see him mouth ‘I’ll text you later’ and it makes you blush. You get inside the car, and Kazutora immediately starts the car.
He notices how quiet you are, but you don’t look upset. You’re busy staring at your phone, almost like you were waiting for a text and then your phone pings. Your eyes light up when you see the notification, and you quickly type something on your phone.
Mikey<3
--Kazutora’s a pretty reckless driver. Think you gonna get there safely?
You stifle a giggle before sending a reply.
--He’s a pretty good driver actually, have some faith in him.
Kazutora doesn’t take a look at your phone, but from the way you are beaming at your phone, he knows who you were talking to.
“You two are getting along pretty well,” you don’t raise your head to look at him, only nod in response.
“Mhm, he’s really cute,” you say quietly and your friend smiles to himself. He hasn’t seen you this excited about someone in quite some time, and for it to be his close friend out of everyone warms up his heart.
You couldn’t wait to see Mikey again.
--
Mikey has a very busy schedule, you learn that from the past three weeks of texting him. You tried to make plans four times, and they were all dismissed by his team because he had something to do. You weren’t even upset about it, you had been having video and phone calls with him the entire time, but he still apologizes during every call and promises to make it up to you somehow.
Which brings you to where you are right now—standing near your apartment building waiting for him to pick you up. You two had agreed to go back to his place to hang out, since his race was coming up soon, the paparazzi were on his ass and he didn’t want that to ruin his fun time with you.
You see a black, fancy car pull up next to you and your eyes are wide as you stare at it. Mikey rolls down the window and flashes you a toothy grin, before yelling out.
“You’re gonna keep standing there?” You are quick to get inside the car, and you take notice of how clean it is.
“I didn’t think you were gonna pick me up in such a fancy car,” you admit, and Manjiro chuckles at your honesty.
“Were you expecting a bike?”
“Yeah.” You smile when you see him laugh a little harder. “What?”
“You’re cute, that’s all,” you blush at his remark and cough a little, suddenly finding the ceiling of his car very interesting.
“Getting shy?”
“Focus on driving,” you say playfully and he gets stubborn, refusing to listen to you.
“Ooh, did my talk of Kazutora being a reckless driver get to your head?” He rests his head on the steering wheel, and you almost panic when you see that he’s not paying attention.
“Mikey—really, focus!”
You arrive to his place in less than twenty minutes, and you hope your face does not betray you and show him how absolutely mesmerized you are by the size of the building. You have to hurt your neck in order to see the top, and he tells you that he lives on the 20th floor, since he loves watching the city from above. You walk inside, get in the elevator and Manjiro notices the way you’re holding your purse tightly.
His hand reaches out towards you and wraps around your wrist, you look at him in surprise but immediately relax when you see the smile on his face.
“Relax, yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper. Butterflies dance in your stomach at the way he’s addressing you—so full of love and care. You look away from him when you feel your face getting hot.
Luckily, Manjiro doesn’t notice as the elevator finally comes to a halt, indicating that you finally arrived at the 20th floor. The doors open and you are greeted with a long, illuminated hallway with grey carpets on the floor and big windows on the side. Mikey is the first one to step out and you follow suit, watching as he starts to look for his keys in his pockets.
You arrive at a door with big, bold numbers on it and you wait behind Mikey as he unlocks it before stepping inside.
“Come in, make yourself comfortable.”
Mikey’s place is as fancy as the building, but there’s a hint of domesticity to it and it warms up your heart. There are framed pictures everywhere, trophies sitting above the bookshelf and plants in each corner of the humongous living room. The kitchen is attached to the living space, and you’re surprised when you see that the oven was turned on.
“Were you cooking?”
“Yeah, I’m actually lucky cause if we had been late, our dinner could’ve been burned.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, while you stare at him mortified. He could’ve started a fire and he’s laughing about it?
“You know that’s super dangerous, Mikey.”
“I was just excited to come pick you up,” he pouts at you, and you already have this show memorized. Every time he would do something reckless and he tells you over a video call, he would pout when you scold him in hopes of getting out of it.
“Please,” you roll your eyes, bending down to take off your shoes before putting on the slippers he had laid out for you. While dinner was still cooking, Mikey decides to give you a little tour of his apartment.
You learn that there is he makes good use of the space he has, and he tells you it’s all thanks to his sister Emma for giving him ideas. He has an office where he takes calls, a bedroom that looks rather neat compared to when you saw it over the video call a few days ago and a very pretty bathroom that is black themed. You think it’s the prettiest part of his house.
“Out of everything, you pick the bathroom?” He is amused, watching as you grab the bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a loud gasp, the fascination in your eyes warms up his chest. He truly feels like pulling you in his arms.
“Those are so cool! Have you ever broken one of these?” Manjiro raises an eyebrow at this.
“Why?”
“I just wanna know if you’re clumsy,” you give him an innocent grin, and he pouts his lips at your comment.
“I am not clumsy.”
“Hm, then I guess Kazutora lied to me.” This makes his ears perk up.
“Kazutora told you about me?” You chuckle at his eagerness but nod anyway.
“He told me you were reckless and a bit childish,” you tilt your head to the side. “Stubborn, indecisive, impulsive, idiotic-“
“Did he say anything that’s actually good,” you can sense the annoyance in his voice and chuckle before reaching out to hold one of his hands.
“He told me you were loyal, very kind and loving. You care a lot about your family and friends, and you never let fame get to your head,” your voice is soft as you tell him all the things Kazutora told you, and the longer you hold his hand, the louder your heartbeat is in your ears.
It feels strange, almost familiar to be this close with him even through just hand holding. And when you look up from where you were holding his hand, your breath hitches at the way he is staring at you. Intense, passionate—you can’t exactly decide how Mikey’s eyes feel, but you do know that they make you nervous. You bite your bottom lips out of nervousness, but you don’t let go of his hand. Instead, your thumb caresses the back of his hand and traces soft circles there.
“And what do you think?” Mikey finally breaks the silence, eyes darting all over your face before settling on your lips.
“I think,” you tighten your hold around his hand, before pulling him towards you in one sudden movement. “I think you should kiss me.”
Manjiro didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips as he pinned you against his sink, lips pressed against yours in what started out as a soft, innocent kiss. But the longer your lips moved against one another, the harder it was to keep it tame. You only pull away when you’re out of breath and panting, hands gripping the fabric of shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you. He rests his forehead against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lips before pulling you into another kiss. You gasp when you feel his lips kiss down, nipping at your jaw.
“Mikey—the food.” You pant out.
“Oh shit-“ There goes your dinner.
--
Whatever Mikey cooked that night wasn’t going to be served. You laugh a little at how pouty and sad he is at the incident, but you reassure him that you appreciate his effort until the very end, and even if it was ruined.
You end up ordering food for the night, and you find out that Mikey gets really excited when the food has little decorations on top. He orders a hamburger and you decide to go for a pizza, and the sheer amount of happiness on his face when he finds a little flag on top of the bun makes you coo at him.
There is a show playing while you eat, but neither of you focus on what was happening as you devour your food and talk about everything and nothing. You learn many things about Mikey, and so does he. And it seems as though the kiss you shared back in the bathroom is long forgotten, almost as though it never happened. But you do notice that Mikey is holding back on the stuff he is telling you.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” You’re not necessarily being confrontational, but you see him shift a little. So you noticed.
He doesn’t say anything as he removes the fry from his mouth and grabs some water, and your heart sinks a little. When did it get so serious?
“Mikey?”
“Can I be honest about something?” Oh no. Whenever a conversation started like this, you knew it wasn’t going to end well.
“Sure.” He was gonna tell you that he didn’t enjoy the kiss—or worse, did your breath smell? You already felt repulsed by yourself and he hadn’t even said a single thing. You were getting ready for rejection, for the night to end terribly and for him to send you back home and never talk to you again. You knew it was too good to be true.
“This might sound a little crazy, but we were lovers in the past.” Huh? You didn’t know what to say—this sounded ridiculous, but maybe he meant when you were kids? On the playground?
“You mean as kids or?”
“No, I mean in a different timeline, we are—well, were lovers.” The use of the past tense when referring to his relationship with you has a bitter aftertaste to it. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, you might not even be her. But he remembers his conversation with Takemichi after Emma’s wedding, how his friend confirmed to him that yes, it was you.
“Mikey, go for it.” Takemichi was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed as though you were actually alive and he did manage to save everyone this time. Even you.
“Are you sure-“
“Yes,” Chifuyu interrupts with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. “I’m certain that it’s her.”
This was the confirmation Mikey needed, but he was still scared. What if you reject him in this timeline? What if you both don’t fall in love and things don’t work out? This probably scared him more than having to tell you about the whole time leap thing.
“What do you mean?” You don’t tell him that he sounds ridiculous, nor do you laugh at the fact that he just told you that you were both lovers at one point.
“Takemichi, and my brother—but it doesn’t matter,” Mikey shakes his head. “Takemichi was able to go back in time at one point in his life. He’s what people might call a time leaper. He went through hell and beyond to be able to save his girlfriend from dying, but then eventually he got involved with me and that’s how we became friends.” You see him pause to smile to himself, and you think to yourself that there is no way someone can make up a story this detailed without stuttering or missing a beat.
“Every time he tried to fix something in the past, it would lead to a horrible outcome in the future. And he remembers that—well, we were together,” he frowns before continuing. “No matter the horrible outcome, we were never separated until well, now.”
What Mikey is saying right now should make you look at him like he’s crazy, what he’s implying and the events he’s describing sound straight out of a book. And yet you still believe every word he says. You aren’t sure what part of his speech convinced you that this was real, you just believe him.
“It makes sense. The handshake made me feel some kind of way, I thought I was crazy for looking too deeply into it—but then I felt you and I don’t know, I think even hanging out as friends would do us great, yeah?” You were going on such a ramble, that you fail to notice that Mikey is a little taken aback by your understanding of the whole situation. He’s relieved that you don’t think he is crazy, but when he feels the blush crawl up his neck, he looks away from you with a loud huff.
“What is wrong with you?” You blink at him.
“Hm?”
“You’re being awfully understanding, I wasn’t expecting it.” You find yourself cooing at him, and your hand reaches towards his face to pinch his cheek playfully.
“Oh Mikey, are you shy?” You regret your words as soon as they come out. You feel his hand grab your wrist before pulling you on top of him on the couch, making you straddle him. He smirks at your wide eyed look and his hands grip your hips just like how he did in the bathroom.
“Cat got your tongue?” Yes, it totally did. This side of Mikey was so unexpected but you weren’t complaining. But you did feel as though he was reminding you that no matter how flustered he could get, he always had more effect on you than you could ever imagine.
--
You get over the situation on the couch rather quickly, and an hour later you decide that it’s finally time to head back home. Mikey is whiny about it, but he decides to drive you back to your place and completely forgets why he was upset in the first place. His behavior resembled one of a very needy puppy.
He parks next to your apartment building, and he immediately starts sighing out dramatically.
“Mikey-“
“I cannot believe I have just been reunited with my past lover, and yet she still asks to go back to her place and urgently!” He yells out the last part, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “I am heartbroken.”
“I promise to text you, yeah?” You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek, to which he grins at.
“And you have to go on a date with me again very soon.”
“Okay, deal.” You quickly agree, and the smile beaming on his face makes you think that if he was always going to be this happy, then you would go on plenty of dates with him.
“Goodnight Mikey,”
“Manjiro.” Your hand rests at the door, and you turn around to face him.
“Yeah?”
“Call me Manjiro, I like it better.”
You smile at this and nod his way. “Goodnight Manjiro.” It sounds so sweet when it comes out of your mouth, and when you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, he grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss.
He is such a passionate kisser, a little aggressive since he keeps nipping and biting at your bottom lip and gripping the back of your head—but you don’t mind. You are dizzy when he pulls away, and he finally unlocks the door for you with a grin on his face.
“Goodnight, (Name).”
--
Over the next month and a half, not once do you question your relationship with Mikey. It’s casual, you tell yourself. It has to be. Sure, you have shared a few passionate, and very intimate kisses but it was all casual and friendly. At least that’s what you tell yourself.
Mikey refuses to discuss whatever is going on between you two either, chooses to brush it to the side because as much as his brain was telling him this was going well, his heart was screaming at him not to get attached. Which was too late.
The conversations you both had, the kisses you shared—hell, you even understood the whole time leap thing and told him that when he first shook hands with you, he felt familiar. But what if Mikey fucks up again? What if he messes up like he did in the previous times, so badly to the point where even Takemichi couldn’t fix it? The thoughts in his head were getting louder and more suffocating by the minute, and he was afraid that he would do it again—push you away, or worse; lose you.
You notice that his text messages become shorter and less excited than when you both started talking, it confuses you at first—you brush off the idea of him losing interest in you because there was no way. You both got along so well, did he really get cold feet so suddenly?
It was even more frustrating to try to get him to talk about it—every time you would try to bring it up, he would shut down your attempt and give a lame excuse such as “oh, I’m just tired” or “I didn’t get enough sleep”. You were starting to get a little fed up.
You text Kazutora to come over, and you’re not even surprised when you hear a knock at your door not even twenty minutes later. He was always quick with these.
“What do you want this time, more money? My soul?” Kazutora says as he walks in, but the humorous mood he was trying to set immediately fades when he notices your distressed state.
“Wow, are you okay?” His eyebrows are pinched in concern and you shake your head.
“No, no—I think Mikey doesn’t like me.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” This wasn’t what Kazutora heard from Mikey himself, and he realizes almost immediately that things weren’t being communicated properly between you two.
“He’s been acting distant and cold—and I think I fucked up, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him the first time we hung out-“
“You kissed him the first time you hung out?” Your friend was impressed, but he winces when you smack his shoulder. “Shit sorry—hey listen, I’m very sure he likes you.”
“How can you be so sure? I really don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s killing me.” You are frustrated, and it’s very understandable. But Kazutora has to explain to you how Mikey was as a person.
“It’s Mikey, he’s incredibly scared of his feelings.” He sits you down on your couch and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s always been like this. His feelings are intense, and he is scared that it might push people away which is why he’s had the same group of friends for years--so my theory is, he really likes you. But he is scared that you do not feel the same, or worse and impossible; don’t feel the same way.”
You aren’t surprised that your friend knows this much about Mikey, but you still find it endearing that he was willing to explain to you in detail how his friend dealt with his feelings. You find yourself nodding at his words before resting your head on the couch.
“How do I make him less scared though?”
“What do you mean?”
“I obviously like him back,” you stare at your friend. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But how do I tell him? How do I let him know that I want him? I can’t have him question that, I need him to be convinced that I feel the same for him, that it doesn’t scare me.”
Kazutora smiles a little at your eagerness. You and Mikey were truly the perfect match. Confident, unwavering and strong with a pinch of gentleness and care for your loved ones. He pats your head affectionately.
“Don’t worry, I got the perfect plan.”
--
You should’ve known his plan would include some of Mikey’s closest friends. You are a blushing mess as you stand in the middle of Mitsuya’s office in an awkward position. The lavender head is staring you down so intensely, you can’t even hold eye contact with him.
“Yeah, lucky her I have one ready.” Have what? You look at Kazutora who only grins at you before shrugging his shoulders.
Mitsuya then comes out and is holding what appears to be a black outfit. He hands it to you and sits back down on his chair before nodding at you to open it. You do as you are told and unfold the piece of clothing in your hands—a dress? There was pretty writing in gold, it said TOMAN on the back and Mikey written in gold right above the heart area.
“Is this…?”
“Mhm, Mikey’s old uniform when we were back in Toman.” Mitsuya says before fixing his glasses. “I tried to experiment with it a couple of times, and this is the last thing I was able to make. It should fit you as an oversized shirt.”
You hold the piece of clothing in your hand and nod at him, before darting your eyes towards your friend.
“What do I do with this?”
“His race is tomorrow. You already have a VIP pass to the front row, right?” You nod in response. “Cool, wear that and stand there. I’m very sure he will be very excited.”
It sounded like a reckless plan—crazy, even. But you were down for it as long as Manjiro knew that you felt the same, and that you were willing to try again with him in this timeline. You were ready to be lovers, it’s what fate decided for you both. And although it doesn’t always work out, during the two months of having known Mikey, you’ve come to accept the fact that you were his and he was yours.
No matter the circumstances, you always found your way back in each other’s lives.
--
Mikey loved his job more than anything in the world. He loved the adrenaline that comes with it, the confidence boost that he gets from hearing people—fans, and mostly his friends and family cheer for him, was immeasurable. He was the center of attention, and such a competitive person that all eyes fell on him the moment he gets on his bike. Like a kid being handed candy, Mikey finds pure joy in holding trophies at the end of every race, and some might think he is cocky for saying this—but he knew that today’s victory was going to be his.
He is getting ready to get on his bike, a heavy helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He knows his manager is saying something, but he can’t really get himself to care enough to listen, mind thinking of far more important things.
He wonders how you are doing, after all it’s been a while since he last saw you and it makes him internally cringe. Avoidance was one of his worst traits, coming second to pushing people away from him. He doesn’t know what he should do about the whole situation, he is far too deep in it to be able to get out without you getting mad at him or worse—choosing not to be with him. But Manjiro is ready for whatever is thrown his way, he will fight back and try to win you ever. Even if his own fears can easily get the best of him at the worst of times.
The race starts, and Manjiro doesn’t stare at the crowd cheering for him. He knows it’s the usual—His siblings, grandpa and all of his friends cheering the name “Mikey!” over and over again. It wasn’t until the race ends and Mikey wins the first place that he decides to take off his helmet and flash the crowd his usual, toothy grin. It’s contagious, and he notices how his friends keep pointing down for him to notice something in the crowd—or rather, someone.
There you were, standing so close to him yet so far away—how did he not notice you from the very beginning? You looked adorable, and you were wearing something that looked way too familiar. The closer he got to you, the sooner he was able to confirm that it was his old Toman uniform. And you were wearing it as an oversized shirt, with what he hoped were shorts underneath.
He doesn’t miss the way his siblings and friends were snickering to themselves at his speechless state, but he chooses that he will throw a tantrum over that later. He has more important things to focus on—such as asking you what you were doing here, how did you get that? Does it mean that you weren’t mad at him?
Mikey knew he should be careful with the paparazzi, after all they were the type to make a huge deal out of anything—but he has never had any dating rumor. In fact, he would always shut down the idea and say that dating wasn’t for him. But now that you were standing in the crowd, looking especially adorable in his old uniform, he couldn’t really decide whether to protect you from the nasty fans or to hold you in his arms and show the public that his heart belonged to one person only.
He decides to be careful for the sake of your safety—flashes you a confident smile that has your face changing into a bright red color before giving him a curt nod which he returns. You could hear Kazutora and Baji fake gagging in the back at the sight of you two communicating silently, but you didn’t care anymore. Not when Mikey’s eyes spoke louder than any cheering you heard today.
You are patiently waiting for him next to his changing room, it’s where Emma told you to go. You appreciated that neither she, Izana nor Shinichiro teased you about being romantically involved with their brother. Though you did notice the smile that painted the older brother’s face at your nervousness, so he decides to speak up.
“I’m glad you found each other again.” So that’s what Mikey meant when he said that his brother was a time leaper too. Shinichiro knew about you two, but he trusted Takemichi to do the job of telling Manjiro about you.
You fiddle with your thumbs, leaning against the wall. You don’t have time to get lost in your thoughts before you see Mikey storming down the hallway and towards you, ridding himself of his jacket and all the equipment that was strapped onto him as a form of protection.
“Sir—“ His manager tries to get his attention, but Mikey raises a single hand to dismiss his efforts.
“Whatever it is, cancel it or tell them to wait. I have far more important things to do.” You flush at his words, and you’re about to say something yourself when Manjiro grabs your hand and opens the door to his changing room. He turns out and looks at his manager once again.
“No one’s allowed near my room for a while, okay?” His manager raises a questioning eyebrow.
“But sir, why-“
“It doesn’t take a genius to know why.” Mikey almost gives the man a deadpan look, and the manager seems to understand almost immediately and flushes before bowing his head and walking away in a hurry.
You are amused at how eager Mikey is about the whole situation, but you can’t deny that you feel nervous about being alone with him in his changing room. It’s fancy and private, exactly what you imagine Mikey to have since it’s not any different from his house.
Once the door is closed and locked, Mikey turns around to face you and he lets out a fascinated “wow”, eyes darting over the newest version of his old uniform.
“You like it?” Your voice is shy, and you feel small under his gaze as he takes a step closer to you. His hand reaches to grab the hem of your shirt and you see how his thumb grazes over the fabric. His eyes travel all the way up to your face before letting out a hum.
“Ask me again if I like it,” Manjiro’s voice is barely above a whisper, you feel his other hand grab your jaw.
“Do you like it?” You can’t finish the sentence properly before he’s yanking you towards him by your shirt, the hand that was holding the hem of your shirt resting on the small of your back. His nose brushes against yours, and his eyes dart over your face in search for any sign of hesitance or wanting him to pull away.
Instead, you’re a blushing mess. But there’s a proud grin on your face, and you’re biting your bottom lip in hopes of controlling it—Mikey thinks you look too pretty up close.
“I love it, a lot.” He brushes his lips against yours, pulls back when he feels you trying to kiss him properly and when you whine, he lets out a small chuckle.
“What? You wanna kiss me?” You don’t give him a verbal response, but you catch him off guard and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You can tell he is taken aback, but the hand that was resting on your back rests on your face and you almost feel yourself melting from him holding your face with both hands. The kiss is passionate and deep, and you feel yourself being backed up against the wall. You gasp when you feel him pin you there, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands move down from your face to grip your hips, and when he pulls away, you’re a panting mess.
He rests his forehead against yours, taking in how your face is flushed and your eyes have a thin layer of lust coating them. He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before biting the skin there.
“I need to hear it.” And somehow, you don’t even have to ask him to know what he means.
“I’m yours, I wanna be yours.” He bites at your jaw, then asks you to say it again.
“Yours-“
“Fuck yeah, mine.” He gently nips at your neck, and you can’t think properly to tell him not to leave any love bites there. Again, you are reminded by how strong he is when he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, walking towards the couch. He lays you down there, and when you see him get down on his knees, you start panicking.
“Manjiro, you don’t have to-“ he grabs your hand and places it on his crotch, and your lips part in shock when you feel the bulge in his pants. Already? Just from making out? Your face was burning enough.
“Feel that? Yeah, I have to.” You let him take off your shoes for you, and let out a surprised squeal when he rids you of your shorts and panties in one go. You hear him groan at the sight, shamelessly spreading your legs wider for him before pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh.
“Can smell you from here, sweet thing.” His voice is raspy, and you only nod in response while licking your lips. Your hands grab at the hem of your shirt and you’re ready to pull it over your head before Mikey stops you.
“Keep it. Wanna fuck you in it.” You feel dizzy at his words. You’ve always known that Mikey was confident but this was a whole new person, not that you were complaining.
Manjiro presses a few loving kisses on your inner thighs before getting to your pussy where he stares at it for a few moments. You don’t have to feel self-conscious, he doesn’t let you as he presses his nose against the patch of pubes sitting right above where you wanted him the most. He parts your pussy lips with his fingers, and swipes his tongue over your folds, smiling when you give that adorable gasp over the initial contact. His thumb pulls the hood of your clit, before pressing his tongue against it. And when he sees the way you squirm and try to move away, he knows he’s doing a good job. His tongue assaults your clit over and over again—kissing, sucking and humming against the sensitive bud as his middle and ring finger push past your folds. You are far too gone to react properly to the intrusion, sitting up with a flushed face and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips.
Your stomach twitches and relaxes a couple of times, and Mikey can tell you are trying not to cum fast. So he curls his fingers up, grazing that one spot that has you covering your mouth and throwing your head back. He keeps finger fucking you at the same angle and pace, grinning to himself when your breathing stutters and you cum around his fingers, gushing so sweetly with the prettiest moans leaving your lips.
Mikey is back on his feet almost immediately, the fucked out look on your face making him groan to himself as he pulls his pants down enough to free his cock from its confines. It’s pretty, has a slight curve to it and the tip is flushed red. Your mouth waters at the sight, hands squeezing your boobs while staring up at him, begging him to put it in your mouth.
“Not today, baby,” he reaches for a random drawer next to him and pulls out a condom. You don’t have to question him before he’s wrapping it around his cock. “Today is all about you.”
It was pretty ironic considering the pathetic moan he lots out the moment he pushes himself inside you. Your pussy welcomes him with so much ease, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer to you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss when he starts to move his hips against yours.
“Oh fuck baby, you feel good.” Manjiro says against your lips and you can only moan in response, the angle at which he is fucking you knocking the wind out of your chest. You are already feeling dizzy enough from the sheer force of his thrusts, but when you pull your legs up on his shoulders, Mikey gives you a look that could only mean trouble.
You gasp in surprise when he lifts up your hips, pushing your upper body deeper into the couch and he starts fucking you hard. His hips are driving into yours so harshly that you feel the couch move with every movement and the sounds—fuck, you just hope that the room is soundproof because the cries you are letting out along with Mikey’s occasional groans of “fuck yeah” “that’s it, take it.” Are straight up pornographic.
Your hands try to cling onto his shoulders, but settle on his muscular arms. You feel the muscle flex under your fingers, and you feel a little embarrassed that feeling his strength was what tipped you over the edge. You cum around him with a loud yelp, body stuttering and shuddering against his. You try to cling onto him for support, throwing your head back when you feel him press his thumb against your clit. You whine in overstimulation.
“I can’t—fuck, I can’t!”
“Oh yes you can, come on baby, make me proud.” Your eyes roll to the back of his head at the overwhelming sensation of his cock bullying its way inside along with his thumb over your clit. You think it’s humanly impossible to cum again in such a short amount of time, but you do it. Mikey pulls it out of you and this time, he collapses on top of you as you both reach your orgasms at the same time.
You think it’s magical, your fingers resting at the back of his head to brush the few hairs there. You feel him pant against your skin and hum, pressing a few kisses there.
“Need to clean you up,” you giggle at how sleepy he sounds but nod anyway.
“Yes, you do.”
“Can I just do it with my mouth?” You gasp in terror, trying to push his heavy body off of you.
“No! I’m too sensitive.” You feel him pout against your skin, but he gets off of you and traces his hands over your lower body.
“I like you like this, you’re so pretty.” Mikey reaches his hand up and pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp and smack his hand.
“Manjiro, keep your hands to yourself.” You see his eye twitch at your comment, and suddenly he flips you on all fours and smacks your ass harshly.
“Face down, I need to taste you again.”
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hazelfoureyes · 1 month
Text
A Doe in Fall (part 2)
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I have a terrible case of the big bad sads so enjoy part 2 earlier than I planned
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦
Part 2 Liar
You not-stalk Alastor for weeks but don’t find anything blackmail worthy to grab ahold of. But luckily (?) for you, a chance encounter pulls you deeper into his hobbies and therefore his scope of fascination. Most importantly, do murderers go on dates?
「Warnings/Promises: Smut, HumanAlastor x FemBurlesquerReader, Alastor eats pussy like beignets (MESSY), dancing, shoe stress, murder, dead body, food metaphors, stalking, masturbation, Tommy is a bad dude, allusion to coerced prostitution, praise kink?, public sex acts, stage name is a fucking pun GOTCHU BITCHES, Gluttony」
minors dni please
The nights you didn’t work were spent casually looking for Alastor. Not stalking, just …. pursuing. 
You found over the course of several weeks what places he never attended, and a few that he did like clockwork. As much as you wanted to approach him, you knew you’d end up checkmated again. You just wanted to observe the man, surely you’d see something you could use against him, something tangible.
What was he doing? Knife carrying smooth talker who fingers ladies in the park? There was more to him than you anticipated. That addictive adrenaline rush was calling you to chase him. You’d catch him in the act of whatever men like him did, and—- well, you’d figure it out then. Was he a mugger, maybe? The knife would make sense. But he disposed of bodies so well, a month and no mention of a corpse anywhere. You didn’t want to even touch the thought bubbling up in the back of your skull. It was getting louder and louder, heavier than the other thoughts.
A repeat killer.
You decided, somewhat foolishly, if he was a killer it would be best to know that information. So you needed to continue even if the cards all read death. Right? 
Right.
For all his efforts, he hadn’t actually noticed you. While he tended to stay at the back of the room, you were always further back, on the balcony, at the bar. He went about enjoying his nightlife wholly unaware someone was watching. Because of this, he did things that were considered quite dangerous for a woman.
Many nights you found yourself alone in wooded areas. Well, “alone”. 
During your casual stalking you found him to be quite pretty, in a sense. He walked smoothly, always had pressed and tailored suits. Slender fingers, wide shoulders, small waist. Fingers.
Many more nights you buried your face into your pillow and thought about his hands on you, his breath at your ear. His “Shhh.” You couldn’t replicate the feeling. No matter how you tried.
If all else failed, no juicy blackmail available, maybe just endear yourself to him. Bed him. Get the conquest done and let him go on with his little crime spree or whatever it was he was doing when you weren’t watching. Because so far all you’ve seen is a man who loves to dance and enjoys whiskey. 
After another show done, body sore, you did your tour of the theatre. Tommy was snapping his fingers at you from the bar, his attempt to tell you to come over. Every day he seemed to become more and more brutish.
“What can I do for ya?” You tried to keep a bounce in your step, arches aching. 
“I want you to meet someone.” Tommy turned to a small man at the bar, hair thinning and combed forward. You guessed in his sixties. “Give Mr. Wilson a warm welcome. He’s one of your most generous benefactors.”
You nodded, smile slipping as you mind started to consider what was happening. You had heard some girls were taking dates, offering private shows, but you had been under the impression that was entirely of their own free will and desire. Had Tommy turned pimp? Your gaze flashed to Tommy, his stare cold, and then back to the man. “Well, thank you very much doll! Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wilson.” Tommy saw someone walk by and followed, leaving you with the older man. 
“Your dance was something else, sweetheart.” You nodded, his hand coming to rest on your hip. “I bet those hips do more than dancing.”
Leaning in, you rested your hand on the hand he set on your hip and whispered into his ear, “Touch me again without my permission,” you lifted his tie, a flirtatious move to anyone watching, “And the next time you see this tacky tie, you’ll be shitting it out.” You patted his chest. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
You pushed through the crowd and out of the front doors of the theatre. The air chillier tonight than past weeks. Looking around, you balled your fists. You wanted to hit something, break something.
Without any destination you tore off down the street, angrily huffing to yourself. You looked both ways to cross the intersection when you saw a familiar silhouette. A car honked, your hands coming up in apology as you finished crossing the street to follow Alastor.
Was your luck miraculous? Or malignant? You made it several blocks before a man stepped in front of you. You weren’t listening, trying to look past him to see where Smiles was headed.
“Will you fuck off?!” You pushed him out the way only to have him pull you back by the arm. Before you could let out your frustration, a stranger walked up to you both. 
“Hands off, move along.” The stranger flashed his identification papers, making the offender leave quickly with his head down. “Miss you need to be careful out here. There’s been people missing from this ward. Pretty thing like you should be home.” 
Your mouth formed various shapes, no words fitting.
“Detective Brady.” He handed you a card.
I don’t want this.
“Sure, thanks.” You snatched it with two fingers and practically jogged away. No sign of him, no indication where Alastor went. Were there any forested areas? He often took strolls in shady parks but you couldn’t remember any nearby. Turning around you realized how far you’d wandered from the fanfare and lights. The area was dark and deserted, not just Alastor but no one was around anymore. You stashed the card in your bra and rushed past an alley, giving up and deciding to just go home, when your ears caught the sound of dragging fabric on pavement.
Ice. Your blood chilled. Taking a few steps backwards, you turned to look into the darkened side street. You saw nothing, but heard a familiar wet sound.
Would it matter? Death?
You lifted your heels, walking on the balls of your feet to not make any sound as you approached the black shadow blanketing the majority of the side street.
A glimpse of brown leather shoes peeked into the light, soon your eyes adjusted as you too entered the inky darkness.
“I don’t care for liars.” Alastor was in front of you before you could even shout from shock. You looked around him to see a crumpled body on the ground and a black car.
“Is there a problem?” His eyes scanned your face, his usual smile no longer so inviting but instead manic and wide. You don’t know what possessed you, the adrenaline was flowing again and drowning out your more sensible thoughts. 
Your eyes were locked on his golden brown stare, “Only… if you’re quite attached to his wallet.”
He burst into laughter, wiping tears with the back of his bloodied glove. A small smear of blood was left behind on his cheek.
“I have no need for it.” He reached down and fished it out of the man’s pocket, “And neither does he!”
You caught it with both hands, “Well doesn’t that make me the lucky lady of the evening.”
“Don’t speak too soon. I’m quite cross with you.” He gestured at you with the knife, “We had a deal.”
In what could best be described as an out of body experience you watched yourself rush to his side and lift the man’s legs, “In the trunk?”
Alastor stared at you, teeth showing as his smile grew, “I’ve seen films less entertaining than you.” A stifled laugh as he lifted the man from under his arms and you both carried him to the car. You dropped the legs with a loud thud, Alastor gently setting the man down and opening the trunk.
A waxed canvas was lining the inside, “Clever.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He hummed happily at the compliment and you sank your teeth into the reaction. Everyone wants something; power, money, sex, praise. Find the right combination and even the toughest hearts would swing open. 
After he tossed the man, the knife, and the gloves into the back, you reached for his hand. “Your wife is going to be miffed. Blood is so difficult to get out of cotton.” You scratched at the bit of blood that had stained his cuff. “Spit works really well. But lemon juice and baking soda before any store bought cleaners will help.”
Alastor took his hand back, adjusting his sleeve to hide the red spot, “Oh she has much bigger issues to deal with.”
Your mind raced. A chauvinist? Abuser? A weight settled into your stomach; disappointment. “Is that so?”
Giggling, he leaned against the bumper, one leg crossing in front of the other, “Considering she doesn’t exist, she’s quite terrible at laundry. And I haven’t eaten a meal in years.” A giggle devolving into a full chest laugh. 
A terrible joke, you smacked his chest, “Cruel! Unfunny!” 
“Perhaps I should eat you?” He leaned close. 
“I hear I’m quite sweet.” You smirked, heart pounding in your chest with such force you were rocking slightly with each pulse.
Alastor felt his blood pressure rising. He should kill you. Just to be safe. But—- oh, this was so fun. You hid any fear you were feeling perfectly. He could be forgiven to think he was staring into a mirror. If he met himself in an alley, well, he would feel quite safe. Perhaps you we’re of a similar inclination?
He watched your throat as you gulped. You licked your thumb and wiped at his cheek, “You always make a mess, hun.”
Alastor felt the world spin as you then dragged your blood stained thumb over your lips, red lipstick smearing with it. “Sweet eno-,” he swallowed your words, hand coming to your neck and pulling you into the kiss. No patience, his tongue swiped over your mouth and plunged in at the smallest parting. 
Your mind was screaming, finally, yes. 
His tongue as soft as his hands rolled over your own, every time your mouths pulled away and drew back together was thinning your frontal cortex. Alastor could taste the faint metallic tinge of the man’s blood on your mouth, and he found his sleeping libido shiver awake. Always a fan of kissing, he now found his mind wandering to other parts of your body, other acts of affection, as he felt you’d call them.
No time. He pulled away, “Against the wall.”
You practically threw yourself into the bricks. Alastor pulled a gas tin from the trunk and began dousing the street. You frowned, body relaxing.
“You’re taking the food metaphor too far. Fire? Really?” You took a second to realize there was no odor.
A laugh in threes, “Water, dear.” You watched the blood thin and begin snaking down to the gutter. He set the can in the trunk and closed the hatch. After opening the drivers door he turned to you, “Do you trust me to drive you home?”
“Honestly, no.”
“That’s why I like you,” a wink. “Wear comfortable shoes tomorrow.” He flashed a smile, pushing his glasses up. Before you could question him he  hopped into the car and drove off out of the back of the side street.
Alastor found himself singing a little louder as he drove home. A thrilling evening becoming somehow more exciting. He realized that always seemed to happen when you stumbled into his plans. Still annoyed you had followed him, his thoughts shifted to possibilities. A kindred spirit could make things easier. More fun. Safer. But who were you? Much like himself you wore a mask. He could see it clearly as it always began to slip in his presence. 
He pulled his car behind his home, backed up against a large greenhouse. Still in the idling vehicle, his fingers came to his lips. What a peculiar creature you were. Killing the lights and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he considered what to do. The possibilities kept coming in waves. But he stopped himself, never one to live in fantasy. Helping toss a dead man into a car wasn’t the same as killing. Yes, you showed no outward concerns, but he couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t turn tail the second things got more intense. 
He always took his time, sensing out those who were good candidates. The abhorrent, the abusers, the cruel. There was something so satisfying, deep in his gut, to watch a person with power over others cower in fear. The same eyes that relished in the pain they gave to those under their thumb shaking in realization the were now the prey. Begging for mercy they didn’t afford others. Alastor sighed. He remembered your pained sob in the park, frustration and disappointment at his lack of reaction. Eyes fluttering closed, if you had gotten in the car you’d not be disappointed in him now. 
A deeper sigh. But you didn’t. Which was wise. He thought better of you for it. Opening his eyes and leaving the car, he went to the trunk to begin his work.
You couldn’t sleep. Not because of the dead man, you were getting used to that. It was the lack of information. Comfortable shoes? For what? He didn’t give you a time or place to meet.
Tomorrow was Sunday, you realized. Ah, the bar. That was the only place that would make sense. 
Sundays were big nights for your theatre, but you weren’t needed unless a girl was sick. You simply weren’t at that level of fame for your little company and this was fine for you suddenly. You spent your Sunday pacing your small one room apartment and changing shoes.
What did Alastor have planned? With the little you knew about him it a could be a capital crime or a walk in the park. You genuinely couldn’t imagine and it was exciting. A normal man asking you—- was this a date? Was it presumptive to call it a date? You couldn’t quite see Alastor dating. You let the question go. Most men would take you for a movie and perhaps a chaste kiss at the door of a cab. With Alastor it could be literally anything. How do you dress for anything? 
Your friend teased you, arriving early to her bar and chewing on your lip. 
“So, either you suddenly wanna look nice for my dive, or you’re expecting someone.” She was wiping down the counter.
“I adore your customers, Betty.” You hopped from the seat, needing to reapply your lipstick.
Your singing voice was strained, nerves keeping you tense. Looking into the modest crowd you couldn’t find him. A cornflower yellow dress, a little too tight around your waist but you didn’t let that stop you. The collar a loose and folding slit from shoulder to shoulder, you were positively cute, he decided. Leaning at the bar he couldn’t see your face, but under the small lights you were glowing nonetheless. A little ball of pride rose in his gut, noticing you clearly had put more care into your appearance tonight than most Sundays. 
Truth was he had enjoyed a whiskey and your songs for several months now, always at the seat closest to the door, out of sight and out of mind. His favorite of your casual dive bar digs were the trousers you occasionally wore. You looked so sharp.
When your set was done, you tried to be gracious as you left the piano’s side. Alastor watched you from his seat, letting your face light up once again when you recognized him. He gave a noticeable look to your shoes. 
“Those will do.” 
“Do what?” 
“You,” he leaned against the bar, “owe me a drink. And alcohol always pairs well with dance.”
Maybe a date, you thought. You offered him your arm, “Lead the way.”
As you walked, arm in arm, you found yourself not needing to speak much. His arm was so solid in yours. You felt like everyone was looking, the handsome man and the pretty young thing. Did you two look sweet? Like the cleanest cut kids in the neighborhood? Did you look like the kind of people who sat in pews once a week and clasped hands over dinner?
Did you look like the sort to toss bodies in cars? No, decidedly not. And it made you feel powerful. What a perfect act. The feeling of looking nothing like what you were was akin to the addicting rush of your cat and mouse game with most men. 
“Do you like those group dances? Like the Big Apple?” Alastor asked as he opened the doors for you. 
“Not particularly…”
“Perfect, neither do I.” He laughed. 
A small table in a small nook of a booth lining the small dance floor. You clinked your glasses together, no toast necessary, and watched the couples swing around the room. As the 20’s were fading from the rear view, you all hoped dance would be less stigmatized. But part of the fun was how scandalous it was. 
“How was your day? Made it home safe and sound?” Alastor crossed his legs and leaned into the plush booth seat. 
Oh, this was going to be… normal? You choked a little on your drink, surprised. “Honestly?”
“Always.”
“I sat in my apartment changing my shoes repeatedly.”
Alastor’s laugh was loud and sharp, but you didn’t find it obnoxious. You liked it.
“That wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to risk you being unable to dance.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a slow sip with your gaze on the dancers, “Ya know how to avoid that? Tell me to wear shoes for dancing.”
A snicker, “Perhaps I’m not quite as skilled with talking to women as I like to think.”
“Then talk to me like a man.” Your glass made a thud as it hit the table. Alastor’s eyes widened as they always did when you said something wildly amusing to him.
“Hmm, I don’t talk much to men.” He thought, “Not for long conversations, that is.” Your mind conjured up the two dead men. “I never asked your name. Is it too late now?”
“You saw it on the posters. Autumn.”
Alastor smirked, “Autumn Hind is not your real name. That is clearly a stage name.”
Swirling your drink in its crystal, you smiled, “It’s a good one though, you have to admit.” His brow cocked, not understanding. “Hind, a doe. And what do does do in the fall?” Your own brows rose suggestively. 
Alastor hit the table, “A deer pun?! Oh darling, we’re going to be fast friends.” He offered you his glass for another wordless toast.
“I thought it was pretty funny, for a burlesque dancer no less. A horny little deer prancing on stage. Better than Allie Way and Frosti Winters.” You grinned into the glass, proud of yourself.
You could see Alastor physically relax beside you, dancers moving about in front of you both. 
“And yours? Your day, that is.”
He hummed, “I slept late, stayed up late. Took care of our newly penniless friend.” 
You wanted to ask more, what did you do with him? Can I come next time? Is there a pool of gators somewhere eating well today?
He leaned in to you, “May I have this dance?”
Your smile was uncontained, all desire to control your outward appearance was lost in the fun of dancing with your newest partner. Was there anyone else in the room with you anymore? Who knows. The music kept playing and that was all you needed. 
Alastor was a marvelous dancer,  you noticed other women glancing his way, eye lashes fluttering but ignored as he focused on the movements. This was how you managed to not-stalk him so well, he was completely unaware of the interested gazes of those around him.
While he didn’t notice the individual stares, Alastor could feel the attention on him and it made his chest puff. He loved it, how he could feed an image to the masses and be seen as he saw fit. It was something you both had in common, even if neither of you had strong enough egos to vocalize it yet.
When the music wound down, a slow number for the lovers, you hadn’t expected Alastor to stay on the dance floor. A slow dance, one arm on your hip, hand in hand. 
Now close, you felt you could speak without risk of others eavesdropping. 
“Why did you invite me out? I have a distinct memory of you saying you had very little affection or time.” You were shorter than him, your shoes not very tall, so you had to speak up and at his neck.
“A man who says he has no time is a man unwilling to make any.” Alastor led you in a small sway along the floor.
“Oh so you just didn’t see me worth the effort before.” You said it half teasingly, half seriously.
He looked down now, eyes meeting yours again, “That was before I knew how entertaining you could be.”
You pouted, entertaining was not the word you wanted to hear. Enthralling, Enchanting, Endearing. 
“There’s that face again. What ever could it mean.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side.
“I’m entertaining at work. You don’t need to take me out to enjoy my entertainment value.” 
He laughed again, making you glare, “Darling, being entertaining is high praise. And you’re not entertaining at work. You’re bewitching.” He pulled you a little closer, “The way you make those men act a fool. Truly a sight. You wield a power many women just dabble in.”
You shimmied a little against his chest, “Well if we’re giving out compliments…” you remembered the satisfying hum from last night, “The canvas was clever, but the water in the cans was brilliant. Nothing suspicious about a little petrol in the trunk.”
His grin widened. “And your precision. One cut and that brute was down. It was remarkable.” The hand holding your waist began to tighten. It egged you on, whether he intended it to or not, “I can appreciate the way you carry yourself.” Your freehand ran across his vest, suit jacket left at the table, “I wish I could see more.”
Your chest pressed against his, trapping your hand. “Ooh, you are observant, little one. Why did you agree to come out? Still chasing my,” his hips pressed against yours, hand sliding down slightly to hold you close, “affection?”
Fingers playing with his buttons, “Hmm, debilitating fascination and your affection. Do you have any to spare?” You smiled sweetly up at him.
Your mouths were on each other before the bathroom door closed behind you. Alastor locking it without looking, one hand staying on your neck. The small room was just a single toilet and a bathroom cabinet with a built in sink. Little tulip shaped light sconces above the mirror made the room brighter than the dance hall. Your nails lightly grazed his scalp, him humming in return. His body was pressing yours against the wall, despite his thin frame he had a power to him. Hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place. Your hips tried to roll against his anyway.
“Is it praise? I’ll sing your song until I’m blue in the face, until my lungs give out just tell me what you need.” You whined. 
His head shook softly, thumb pulling down on your chin to open your mouth. “It isn’t that simple. It’s not something you can say.” 
His tongue swiped over your own, neither in your mouths. He tasted like whiskey, bitter and fragrant. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling his body against yours. You were vibrating; the way you always did when he was near you.
Kissing, tongues, body presses.  You were tangled together.
“This isn't… doing anything?” You asked, his lips coming to your neck. Sighing, your hand gripped his hair weakly. “That feels good.”
He shook his head into your skin, “I don’t see any desire to carry it further. But I enjoy it for what it is. And you seem to enjoy it. Is that enough for you?”
You wanted to scream, to argue, but as he pulled away and you stared up into his sharp honey brown eyes, you felt helpless to deny him anything. Did you need sex? Really? It’d been three months now without it and you were only recently clawing at the sheets with thoughts of Alastor. Being in his mouth was better than being strangers. Sliding fingers back into his hair and drawing him closer, your leg came up and hooked on his hip.
Alastor pulled you both from the wall and turned you, pressing your body into the sink. You were staring at your reflection, Alastor’s eyes meeting yours in the mirror, “I’m happy to do many things for you… just not exactly what you’re asking for; not right now. Not in this tiny dance hall bathroom.” 
His hand snaked up your chest and lightly held your neck, you fought back a moan.
“Well, if it’s good enough for your wife….” 
He laughed into your skin, other hand slipping down the front of your dress and cupping your crotch. “I’ve heard no complaints.” The way he anchored you, arms twisted and firm around such vital parts of you, made your whole body relax into his arms. A parachute safely secured around you as you fell. Mouth to your ear, hot and warm breath, “Turn around.”
Head spinning, you turned in his arms. Alastor lifted you up and onto the countertop of the sink, lips crashing back into yours.
The sound of music shook the thin walls of the room, heart erratic in your chest. His fingers slid up both thighs slowly, a familiar feeling for you now. His hands your favorite dance partner. 
His eyes didn’t leave yours as he dropped to his knees, your legs closing in embarrassment before he slid his hands between them. 
“Did you ask for more affection, dear?” He pushed your dress up around your waist, two fingers pulling the fabric of your panties to the side. You wanted to rip them off, damning your garters. You felt feverish as you watched him bury his face into your pussy. Your wetness was evident by how easily he glided through your folds. One hand gripped the counter, the other combing through his chestnut hair. Alastor kept his eyes on you, reading your face as he moved his tongue over your heat.
Mind racing for something clever to say, you opened your mouth but just gasped out his name as he sucked gently at your clit. One of your short heeled shoes you stressed over fell off as your knees came up around his head.
You were confident you made the right answer. With the music thumping along you didn’t feel any need to keep yourself quiet.
Your breathy moans and little hip rolls into his mouth made Alastor smile against your skin. He had learned many ways to keep people satiated. 
With a struggle, you opened your legs again allowing his tongue to drop down and into you. Nose rutting against your sensitive clit with every movement of his tongue in and out. 
A pounding on the door made you jump. 
“People are waiting!” Someone yelled.
Alastor pushed his tongue deeper, wriggling up and down against your twitching walls. Your head fell forward, “Alastor-,” you choked.
He buried his nose into your muff, eyes closing.
The door knob rattled, “Hello!”
“Alastor.”
So warm. Your body was so warm on his face. Your smell was making him feel feral. Gluttony. The way you were twitching and heaving under his tongue, groaning his name. Had he ever felt so powerful while on his knees? Had he ever enjoyed someone else’s body in such a bloodless way? No. Decidedly not.
“We’re gonna get the key!” The man at the door said.
“Okay, okay, affection received.” You patted his head, pushing him away by his forehead. “Don’t need to end the night in a paddy wagon.”
Alastor’s tongue was still out, eyes glossy as he looked up at you.
For the briefest second you considered wrapping your thighs back around his head and waiting for the key.
You hopped off, grabbing your shoe and leaning to get it back on. Crouching down you kissed Alastor’s nose and wiped his chin clean with your handkerchief before pushing it into his shirt pocket. “Up, up!” Hand in hand you barreled out of the door before the staff could see you and rushed to the furthest corner of the hall.
When you stopped and looked back you saw a staff member looking around annoyed, a man putting his hands up and entering the bathroom with a huff.
Before you could say anything, compliment or scolding, a woman was in front of Alastor. Your hand slid from his naturally. 
“I am so sorry. Are you the host of that jazz show?” The woman had her hands in front of her, nervously twisting the handle of her purse, “Sorry if you’re not! You just look like the description, tall… handsome… cute glasses.”
You turned around, partly acting like you didn’t know him at all and partly hiding the way your face twisted. Unsure what exactly you two were doing, you didn’t want to create hassle for either of you.  Alastor laughed, “The very same! Alastor, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your back turned you couldn’t see the woman’s face, but she made a barely audible squeak. 
While you were eavesdropping, a man offered you his arm. Your hand slipped to Alastor’s back, giving him a touch as you slid into the strangers arms for a dance.
He turned around to see you hit the floor and smiled, returning to the fan before him. After a few more compliments about his voice and his appearance, the woman shrunk a little, “Are you free tonight? I don’t have an escort home…”
A hum, soft smile, “Ah, I would love to see a fan safely home. But, alas, I am here with someone.”
What an easy excuse. It was nice to not need to lie.
“I see…. Oh, uh, your glasses… here, they’re a little smudged,” she offered him her handkerchief but he declined, pulling yours from his pocket.
“Danced too hard?” She chuckled, trying to elongate the conversation.
Alastor hummed, fogging the glasses before wiping them clear. “Eating, actually.”
“Oh you’re a messy eater, huh?”
“So I’ve been told.” He folded the square into a triangle and returned it to his pocket.
“What a… delicate handkerchief.” She looked at the soft yellow fabric and saw your yellow dress twirling behind him. “Ah. Well….It was a pleasure to meet you.” The woman sheepishly excused herself, letting him watch you dance around the floor with the stranger.
He’d never so explicitly told anyone his proclivities as he had done with you. Growing up he learned quickly his interests misaligned with other young men, but he didn’t really understand it well enough until he entered his early 20s and had to learn skills his peers didn’t. A man can only turn down so many offers for sex before people begin to question him. Certain rumors could be downright dangerous. 
Your eyes kept returning to him, your smile meeting you eyes as you twirled. 
While he had bed a number of partners, it was more often than not the result of physical reactions and what felt like necessity. The few times he genuinely felt he could enjoy in indulging in carnal pleasures he found himself utterly alone. He enjoyed dating, necking, kissing, but he could only keep some people so happy for so long. Quite a few women assumed marriage would solve the issue, and pushed him. Which made the inevitable break up easier. 
His reputation was that of a rake now. The popular host who rarely dates but often canoodles.
He laughed to himself, if rumors spread of his recent antics with you he’d be practically blacklisted from certain clubs. Alastor watched you graciously leave your dance partner and hop up to him. If he were any other man, you’d throw your arms around him and make him swoon for you. But he was Alastor. Your confusingly respectful killer. So you stopped yourself, instead offering him a smile.
“I wasn’t aware you were a radio host.”
“You never did ask my job.” You both walked back to the table where his jacket was lying in the booth seat.
“Honestly did not care. Which is unusual for me. Normally my first question to men is what they do for work.” You tried to avoid looking at the bathroom before settling back into your seat beside him.
He lifted his hand and gestured for another round, “Should I be flattered or insulted?”
“Oh definitely flattered. There were much more interesting aspects to you.” There was a little space between you, a foot or so of emptiness. 
You scooted closer, Alastor glancing to you before shifting his legs and closing the last few inches of distance. Thigh touching thigh, you sat silently while your drinks were poured and brought to your table. 
“To sinning,” you offered a real toast, Alastor laughing his signature laugh and raising his glass.
“To sinning!”
His hand came to rest on yours, both settled on your lap under the table. Your cheeks were hurting, desperately trying to keep your smile looking demure and not stupid-school-girl-in-love. His fingers folded into yours, and you entirely lost the plot, face melting into a lovesick grin.
Alastor leaned into you, “Are you alright? Liquor already gone to your head?”
You squeezed his hand, “Different kind of intoxication, doll.”
The evening was, in a word, divine. You danced with reckless abandon and enjoyed various degrees of affection. You were surprised to see Alastor so open, you had pegged him as less wanting to draw attention to himself. But no, he clearly relished in making heads turn.
He offered you a ride, and this time you took it. You didn’t live far, you just wanted a little more time. When he stopped the car, you jokingly turned around and looked into the trunk. 
“We’re very alone.” You mused. He hummed an agreement, getting out of the car and opening your door.  “Wow and a gentleman.”
“A testament to my mother. If you’re comfortable, give me a wave from the window when you get in.” He closed your door behind you. 
“I don’t mind if you know where I live, you’ll have easier opportunities to kill me, I’m sure of it.” Placing two hands on his chest, you leaned up, “Is a good night kiss too forward?”
Alastor stifled a laugh, “Quite! My image of you is shattered.” before leaning down to meet your lips.
When in the apartment you turned on a light and went straight to the window. Leaning against his car with both hands in his pockets, Alastor was smiling up at you. With a wave from you, he got back into his car and left.
To say you were on cloud nine would be an understatement. Clouds couldn’t carry the weight of your joy. You’d fall to the ground like lead, regardless of the cloud classification. And with that feeling you went to bed smiling, unaware of the dark catalyst barreling towards you.
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows
ADIF @multifandomfanatic02 ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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gatitties · 8 months
Text
War & crack II
—Task Force 141 x young!reader
—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic
—Warnings: none
Part One / Halloween special
yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣
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─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.
─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.
─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.
─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.
─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.
─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).
─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.
─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.
─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.
─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.
─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.
─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.
─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.
─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...
─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.
─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.
— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.
─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.
─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.
─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.
─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.
─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.
─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.
─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.
─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.
─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).
— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.
— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.
— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.
— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.
— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.
— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.
— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.
— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.
— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.
— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.
— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.
— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?
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sharkorok · 10 months
Text
heeseung w/ an inexperienced s/o
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cw/genre: this is fluff!!! fluff!!, headcanon format, cursing, fboi au, campus au ig…(?), like one dirty joke or whatnot teeheehoohoo, informal writing, that should be it (I think)
requested: X
a/n: this grown man has me so delulu so take this 😋
•-•-•-•
-u are well known for being notoriously bad at expressing affection or being in relationships
-you can’t do casual relationships this man once said “hey baby” and you were like “so I think we should lowk end things cuz why u calling me bby…kinda weird dawg…”
-UR JUST SO AWKWARDDDD ITS EMBARRASSING (I’ll write ur character development soon dw)
-anyways so you go to a party and you see heeseung who is notorious for being the craziest charmer ever like he could see an acorn on the ground and seduce it
-he strikes up conversation with you to see what the fuss is all about, he saw a person once talk about how ur so hot w a cold heart but he immediately realized you’re just awkward skssksksks
-he realizes he literally fell in love with you the second he tried to flirt and you were just …? while laughing awkwardly
-so after a month of you flitting around his charming gestures, looking down shyly or avoiding eye contact when he tries to rizz u up, he gets the courage to just straight up ask, “do you like me?”
-and when you explain that u don’t rlly know and u don’t really get into relationships he’s like OKKK LETS TRY THEN!! because he’s so madly in lov w you cuz ur so cute to him
-ok so boom dating!
-he purposely pushes your buttons to see just how much you can squirm, watching you stammer when he has you pressed against a wall gives him a power trip he didn’t think anyone could be this adorable
-and also u as a person…he’s so in love (dreamily)
-no one understands your relationship like, “how does y/n survive heeseung they can’t even say the word baby without cringing”
-ur not innocent or anything ur just new to affection and stuff so it freaks u out a little!!
-he always asks about boundaries before hand or makes sure you’re comfortable when you two are hanging out. the first time you two were cuddling he would ask every now and then if you were alright
-“you just make me nervous, hee” “don’t be nervous baby, it’s just me.”
-you didn’t realize how nice it felt to be loved within your comfort zone, and how nice it was to have someone hold your hand when it was pushed a little
-he’s gonna tease u tho sorry “loser virgin s/o and popular fboi boyfriend what wattpad story are we coming from”
-defends you to death if anyone criticizes the way you two date, he’s happy with you and if anyone tries to say otherwise he’s all up for arguing with them in a parking lot ( ̄▽ ̄)
-he loves you so so much and he dgaf about how slow he has to take it!!
-he takes you on lots of different dates to see what you like and what you don’t like, slowly initiates PDA to see if you’re okay w it or what freaks you out, he’s okay w taking the lead
-got him proud when you explain yourself tho, it means he’s doing a good job as your boyfriend if you’re comfortable explaining your boundaries and understanding them!! (in the least patronizing way possible)
-one time you two were making out and you put your hands on his chest, looking up at him and shaking your head, “I don’t think I want to continue yet.”
-and like a good boyfriend he is he reassured you he dgaf and that you two can just cuddle on the couch for the rest of the night or he could sit five feet away from you and not speak!!! whatever you say he listens bae
-never pushes you for affection, it pisses him off when people say the relationship is one sided, he doesn’t get insecure about whether or not you love him dw
-you say “I love you” every now and again later in your relationship to reassure him just in case tho, which is always super special to him and makes him fly over the moon *bawls eyes out*
-I did not mean for this to be this long ok anyways he’s yours and he knows it and your his and he knows that too <3
1K notes · View notes
yanwriter-archive · 10 months
Note
Can I request a yan! Soap, Ghost, and König all liking the same reader? Maybe they have a shared dislike for a new soldier trying to hit on her
Three stones, one bird.
Warnings: Obsessive love, Gore, manipulation
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God must have cursed the blood in your veins for you to have caught the attention of three violent, scary, men like Soap, Ghost and König. Whether you think they could share is up to your personal wants, but once an outsider comes in view, especially someone as lowly as a rookie recruit? Their plans are now on hold until this problem is taken care of.
Soap is the most vocal of his distaste at first. It comes off of a casual jealousy, and it can even be seen as cute or silly. Yet, the pure hatred in his eyes tell a whole different story then what he lets on.
König tends to let it boil inside. Honestly, if you didn't see how intense his stare was when you were talking to them, you wouldn't know at all how he was feeling. That's how he wants it.
Ghost understands, he really does. Being on base so long and seeing someone as attractive as you? He can't fault them at all. But his tightly closed fists hovering over his knife when the recruit gets a little too close reminds them that it doesn't matter if he understands.
Now, the recruit still proceeds. Does he really think he can go up agist them? That he actually has a chance? Or is he just stupid. It really doesn't matter, because they take it as a threat.
-
The night is dark, and the chilly air slowly seeps into the building, leaving a draft. The hallway is dim, and most people have already left. You would have left too if the new recruit, Kevin, hadn't stopped you.
"Sorry, you're probably in a hurry to get back," he chuckles softly.
You shake your head. "It's okay, what did you need?"
"Well, I just wanted to..." His eyes raise up and he notices someone behind you. Before you can look, he continues in a much more confident manner. "Would you like to go out this Saturday?"
You pause to think about it. "Yeah, okay, sounds like fun!"
He glances back behind you, a prideful look in his eyes.
"Great! I'll text you the information!" He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your knuckle. "Until then, love." He leaves, giving a wink to the person behind you.
You turn to leave, realizing that Simon was behind you.
"Sorry! Didn't see you there!" You give a polite smile and head on your way.
Simon stays there for a while, his dark eyes lacking any emotion.
Ah, so not only is he an idiot, but he also thinks he has a chance and wants to brag about it.
Simon waits for a moment more before pulling out his phone.
-
Kevin awakes at the loud bang at his door. Slowly, he walks to the door. He knows who it is. You can't flirt with Ghost's interest and get away with it, but he knew that. Kevin almost laughs at how predictable Ghost is.
"I was wondering when you were going to show-" His words were knocked out of his mouth as soon as his door was opened. He didn't predict that Soap and König would be on the other side.
Blood leaked out of his mouth where soap had hit him, and he wondered if he really did fuck up.
"What happened to your smugness? Thought you were askin' for a fight?" Soap stepped into his room. "I've been wantin' to do this for a long while." Soap says, stretching out the word long.
"Pathetic." König's voice rung out, rattling Kevins body. "You thought you were actually good enough for them? You aren't even good enough to feed the worms that live underneath the soil they stand on."
"Are you seriously doing this because of one person? You're fucking crazy." Kevin spits out some blood, "Listen I'm sorry, I was just trying to bang a hot-" His voice was cut off once again by soap's fist, sending him lying on the floor.
"Maybe you only hang around sleezy people, but they aren't somethin' you just bang." Soap sends another punch, this time sending two teeth down Kevin's throat. "Scum."
His scream rings out as König's heavy boot comes down on his leg, a sicking snap following. "It's also unforgivable if you say that you just want to fool her and break her heart."
The sheer force of König's stomp had broken his leg in half.
A new voice appears, as loud footsteps enter the room.
"You learn your lesson?" Simon questions, his eyes holding that same look as before.
"Yes! Please stop, please!" Kevin cries out.
"Good." Simon reaches a hand for Kevin to take. He grabs it, hoping to be pulled up and brought to get help, but his hope is crushed when Ghost yanks him, twisting his arm and swiftly breaking it too.
"Stay the fuck away from them."
-
You were feeling sour as Sunday arrived. Kevin had gotten into a fight with another new recruit and ended up with a broken arm and leg. On top of that, he would rather run away than admit that he completely ignored you all week.
Your mood shifted when Soap suggested hanging out with Ghost, König, and him. That sounded better than spending time with someone like Kevin. Besides, you always felt safer when you were with them.
At least that's what they wanted you to think.
A/N Note: I'm not feeling this one, but I figured I post it anyways.
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islandofsages · 4 months
Note
hello!! I was hoping I could request gn!reader (aka Yuu) who loves dancing (and is actually really good at it, preferably something like contemporary dancing?) but hasn't told anyone in nrc. basically, the boys' reaction to stumbling upon them dancing one day!!
(requesting for cater, lilia, riddle, jamil, malleus, rook and vil!!)
thank youuuu <3
characters: riddle, cater, jamil, vil, rook, malleus and lilia x gn!yuu
tags: relationship not specified, fluff, imagines format; grim mention in riddle's, cater's, malleus' and lilia's. vil mention in cater's. kalim mention in jamil's. vil's is set in book 5
warnings: use of the word "dear" as a term of endearment in lilia's part
author's notes: i tried making them stumble yuu in different places so if they seem random thats why lol also i almost forgot about the "hasn't told anyone at nrc" part i get so carried away sometimes help 😭
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Riddle Rosehearts
He has a deep appreciation for dancing and consequently, he respects anyone who is a connoisseur of the art
He would tell you everything he knows about the art and comes to you to inform you on any new things he learns about it
You would tell him that you’re a dancer yourself, especially contemporary dance; the freeing nature of your favorite form has proven to be an effective way to relieve stress and express yourself
…But you’re a bit too shy to admit that to someone as amazing as Riddle - so fate takes the matter into its own hands
You were dancing in Ramshackle’s lounge, all by yourself since Grim is napping, a luxury you don’t get to afford too often
You simply felt like it; you put on some music and suddenly your body grows a mind of its own
You were so absorbed in your performance that you didn’t manage to hear knocks rapping on your door, let alone the sound of footsteps leading up to it
Sensing no answer from you and immediately growing worried, whoever was at the door bursted in to search for you… only to be met with a you in the middle of a dance move
It takes you a few seconds to notice him standing there in awe of your movements. When you do, you instantly ran over to the source of your music and switched it off in embarrassment
He asked you why you did that and would love for you to continue dancing but you only shook your head and tell him you weren’t fully ready to show off your moves yet and that you were simply going with the flow
“I mean, that’s kinda the whole point of contemporary dancing, just going with the flow? But still, I need to choreograph some parts of it to actually look like a form of dance.”
He chuckles at your response and doesn’t push you to resume if you feel uncomfortable. You thank him for respecting your boundaries
Though everything between you goes smoothly after the incident, you’ll never forget the look on his face when he laid his eyes on: the pure wonder in his eyes told everything you needed to know.
Cater Diamond
He thinks dancing is super cool and he sometimes try to demonstrate that - and in your opinion, he’s not half-bad at it despite what Vil would say
You would show off your own moves but you don’t wanna kill his vibes, even if he’d think you’re super good at it
But one day you’ll tell him how much you love contemporary dance and the fact that it can convey every human emotion and experience; and then that day comes, though very unexpectedly you would say
It was late in the evening; the school hallways are mostly empty, save for you and Grim casually having a conversation while walking your way back to your dorm
But one glance outside gives you all the inspiration you need for an impromptu dance session - the sky is bleeding orange, blazing yellow bandaging it
Your movements shift. You are now a tribute to the sunset. Grim stands aside and watches you with a sigh but he holds back his witty comments for after you’re done with your performance
Little did you know you have another person in your audience - Cater also had late evening classes and only now he’s heading back to Heartslabyul
At least, that was his initial plan. Seeing you dancing in the hallway caught him off guard, firstly because who in their right mind would dance in the hallways but secondly (and mainly), the way you move enchanted him
Could it even be called moving? Your limbs bend and flex so smoothly that he thought they turned into water somehow
By the time you’re done, you’re given a standing ovation by both of your spectators - one of whose you jump at in shock
“Yuu, that was like, crazy good! Are you secretly some pro dancer or something?”
You blush a little at the fact that he saw you and at the compliment; after that event, it’s impossible to hide anything from him so you simply tell him everything you know
You’d give him pointers and you’re happy to see his improvement from day to day but most importantly, his shining, genuine smile is something you wouldn’t miss for the world.
Jamil Viper
You know he’s very passionate about dance and you truly admire his skill for it
Although he’d be the perfect dance partner, you feel a little self-conscious sharing your own passion for dancing with him
He seems to sparkle when he shows off his skills and you think you lack that type of shine to your own - he begs to differ though, you’ve come to learn
The two of you were hanging out in his room, music pouring out from his stereo and you drowning in it, your limbs spread out on the floor
Then your room is shaken by some unknown noise, though you can assume it’s Kalim-induced, to which Jamil sighed and excused himself to go check out and possibly fix up
You lay there on your own then, nodding your head to the music, until a song you liked dominates the speakers, taking you by surprise
You don’t know what happened but as soon as the first note hit, you’re on your feet and your body was swaying side to side
Losing your mind and body to the music felt good, but then Jamil entered the room when you were mid-dance. You would’ve stopped if it weren’t for him joining in, but not without a taunt
“What, too scared to dance with me? Come and show me what you’ve got, Yuu.”
You accepted his challenge and continued where you left off - the two of you twisted and turned and ended up on the floor lying on your backs once again, gasping for breath
The two of you laughed breathlessly. He then praised you and your dancing abilities and wondered why you never showed him how skilled you are
You shrugged, thinking it wasn’t a big deal, but then he put a hand on your shoulder and offered to have more dance-offs. You didn’t hesitate to agree
When dancing with him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if you were born to do this. And maybe, just maybe, you were born to meet such a wonderful person too.
Vil Schoenheit
You were a bit let down when you couldn’t actually participate as a dancer for the VDC but at the very least it allowed you to give yourself a bit more time to truly showcase your dancing to others
And hosting a training camp for the actual competitors isn’t too bad if it’s for your dorm and for something you’re passionate about
Ramshackle Dorm is lively, what with everyone there. Conflict was inevitable in this school but it did drive you crazy somewhat
One particular day, everyone was taking a break from Vil’s scrutinous training and you can feel the tension in the air
At some point, everyone left the ballroom. Only you remained seated on the floor, your back to the wall. You stared up at the ceiling and sighed. You couldn’t take this anymore
You got to your feet and simply started dancing, as quietly as you could. No music, nothing - you didn’t want to risk garnering attention by being noisy
It definitely served to alleviate some of your stress. You even smiled to yourself and at some points, fought the urge to laugh out of joy
The ballroom seemed different then. The images of your friends came into your mind - all their smiles, their frowns, the determined looks on their faces. You felt your movements growing more fluid at the thought of them
Once you’re done and panting, bent over your knees gasping for air, a loud clap reverberates in the room. Then another. Then a third. Then a figure emerges, their hands clasped
“What a pleasant surprise. You’re not bad at all. Though it’s a bit too late to recruit you, I surely hope you continue to hone that skill of yours.”
Did… did Vil Schoenheit just praise your dancing skills?
Let’s just say you took his advice to heart - it’s hard not to when it’s Vil Schoenheit himself
You also helped the others with some of your advice after the confidence boost and you’re happy to see their improvement. Seeing Vil satisfied also brought a smile to your face.
Rook Hunt
After the VDC, you found yourself more exhausted than usual by the events that occurred and you begged for a break from whatever deity is there in Twisted Wonderland. Dancing was the last thing on your mind
And for a while, that’s what you got - you were able to simply attend classes and watch your friends bicker with each other like a normal student. It was a well-needed break for everyone
Sometimes you’d chat for a bit with any familiar faces you run into and these days, you found yourself chilling by yourself in the courtyard
One day, you suddenly felt a longing to dance once more. And luckily for you, you had the courtyard all to yourself
It went from being some regular courtyard to your stage and the sun was your spotlight; you shone and you twinkled. You were like a star
And that was what you were told by the end of your performance, accompanied by applause from a singular person
“Très bien, Yuu… your performance has moved me to tears!”
Rook exclaims as he makes his way over to you; that certainly wasn’t your intention. You didn’t even think it was worth watching
But then Rook continues to comment on certain aspects of your performance, elaborating in very vivid detail. You’ve never felt so seen before
He would shower you with compliments, as if to say that you shouldn’t have a single doubt in your mind
And you hardly ever do after that since he very much threatened you to be kind to yourself or else
He would tell everyone about your wonderful skill (with your consent, of course), as if you’re his child who he’s been watching grow up over the years
He may be a bit loud about you at times but when you look over at him and see how proud he is of you, you only sigh fondly and hold back a chuckle.
Malleus Draconia
He doesn’t know a lot about the subject but he appreciates it as a form of art and expression of the people
And so you would tell him all about it while being careful to not let on that you’re one yourself which is surprisingly easier than you thought, considering how oblivious he is sometimes
He merely sees you as some sort of dance scholar and as if he doesn’t respect you a lot already, he definitely holds you in higher regard now
And somehow, that elevates to an even higher level when he suddenly finds you out
He was on his routinely walk around Ramshackle; it was a windy night, weather as pleasant as his conversations with you
Coincidentally, whilst his thoughts were on you, he spotted you in the backyard of your dorm with the ghosts and… hm? It’s brightly lit for once
Curious and wanting confirmation, he changed his route to suspiciously festive-looking Ramshackle instead
Meanwhile, you and Grim were dancing to some music the ghosts were playing for you. You all were having a simple party to forget your worries
The ghosts would comment on how you should stop outshining Grim so much, just to mess with Grim. But they had a point; you had a certain glimmer to you when you dance
Malleus saw that much when he reached your party. He stood within the frame of the backdoor, watching your every movement, entranced
After a few minutes did you notice him there, unmoving. Your steps trace their way to him instead. You extend a hand to him
“May I have this dance?”
And you may - the two of you danced, him slipping in flatteries in between moves. Maybe it was just you, but the party seemed to feel much more lively with him. No, not just the party; the whole world was.
Lilia Vanrouge
He knows a thing or two about dancing from all his adventures and he’d love to show you proof of it
So he does - he's definitely got the moves and you definitely want to show him some of your own… someday
You feel a little self-conscious about your own skills after his show but that doesn't stop you from working on your dancing. You're determined to make your skills worthy of Lilia’s attention!
Little did you know. It's futile to really hide anything from this sneaky bastard (affectionate)
You were on your way to class from Ramshackle with Grim and unfortunately for you, you had a little earworm stuck in your head that day
It started off as a skip, then two skips. By five skips, it turned into a full on dance. You felt alive, like you were a main character in a musical
Grim was making fun of you at first but then he started linking his arm with lampposts and swinging himself alongside you
Lilia was watching this all happen from afar, as one does. A student dancing their way to class is no everyday spectacle after all. And it's you too! All the more reason to play peeping tom
Just when you're about to reach the main building did he finally give you the jumpscare of a lifetime
“Why, you didn’t tell me what a wonderful dancer you are, my dear Yuu! I must admit, I feel quite offended.”
He was jesting of course - he was merely glad that he got to witness such a sight. And you’re glad that you’re not as unskilled as you thought you were
He tries his best not to boast your skills to others but you know he can never keep such hidden talent, well, hidden from his beloved Diasomnia family
You got the Diasomnia stamp of approval - not only that, but you’ve definitely impressed someone you hold dear.
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angelshimaa · 4 months
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@flying-lamb :: I would like to request shinso with prompt 8 from the under the mistletoe prompt list. congrats on your milestone! <3 thank you so much <3
a/n :: hi darling !! thank you so much for entering (and i loved the details you sent in omg !) and i hope this makes you smile :) gn!reader, a little awkward at the beginning, fluff
event.
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you've never regretted where you've stood so deeply before.
then again, it wasn't really your fault. kaminari and ashido had gone overboard with the mistletoe placings— their way of bringing romance into the holiday spirit— and it was inevitable that someone would find themselves under some with another person.
it just had to be you and him, didn't it?
you and shinso are looking at each other, nervousness rising in your chest at your sudden predicament. it's not that you don't want to kiss him— heavens know how badly you've been wanting it— but not like this.
not when the eyes of your friends burn into the two of you like lasers (thanks to kaminari pointing the two of you out), making this feel more nerve-wracking than it needed to be.
“do you want to?” shinso’s voice is lowered, ensuring that only you can hear him. he’s known you long enough to understand the nerves you have based on how you look at him. “you can say no.”
you utter your consent so nobody else can hear, your posture as rigid as a deer caught in headlights. shinso doesn't like the abruptness of this, the nerves bubbling in his stomach or the intensity of everyone watching, but he can't deny he's wanted to kiss you for so long.
the two of you don't even manage that— your noses bump into each other and the embarrassment shoots through you at the speed of light. it's hard to even look at him properly, settling to lower your eyes to the ground, imagining it opening up to swallow you whole.
shinso tells kaminari there's nothing to be seen here, indirectly informing your audience too. thankfully, it comes off casual, not sounding as awkward as your almost kiss felt to you.
when everyone focuses on whatever they had their eyes on before, you recover as best as you can, trying to force your embarrassment to the back of your mind. you're thankful shinso doesn't make a big deal out of it, and you find that you manage to recover quick enough to enjoy the rest of the party.
— ✧ —
“you make some good coffee,” shinso holds onto his cup, his fingers curling around it so as to absorb as much heat as possible. it's really not needed; your home is the perfect toasty protection from the crisp cold you endured on the walk here from the party. “can’t believe you'd hide that from me.”
you take a sip of your own beverage and grin against your cup. “maybe you should come by more often then, you addict.” nobody drank coffee quite like shinso. you've watched him inhale it like oxygen he's been deprived of— it disappears like he’s performing a magic trick.
“don’t tempt me, i just might.” his lazy grin spreads across his face and oh does it look so good on him. you think it's rather unfair how well he pulls off his eyebags and messy hair— he's not even trying.
“i’m counting on it.”
the silence swells and you trail back to the awkwardness that took place a few hours ago; you want to kick yourself for not tilting your head the other way. had you done exactly that, you'd be a kissed person now— kissed by the guy you've been crushing on for a while.
“listen, y/n—” he clears his throat, setting his coffee down onto the table. “i feel like i should apologise for... earlier. i didn't mean to make it all awkward.”
you laugh lightly, setting your own cup to direct all your attention onto him. you lock eyes with him, realising that actually, you'd give him your attention anytime he asked.
“no need to apologise, hitoshi. if anything, i wasn't really... present much. i was a little frozen in place— so many eyes can do that to a person.”
a beat passes and all you do is look at each other while shinso thinks of what to say next.
“so, it wasn't that you didn't want me to kiss you?” he's found his next sentence and it tumbles out of him with ease. his eyes look alluring, inviting even, and you can never get over the feeling they settle into you. you haven't called it by it’s name aloud, but you don't need to.
“hmm,” you pretend to think about it, tapping your finger against your chin. “i don't think so, no.” you hope this is going in the direction you think it is, that he's picking up whatever hint you think you're dropping.
“so, would i be right in guessing that you’d like to try again?” it's a carefully chosen suggestion, uttered with a lower, slightly hesitant voice. shinso feels as though he might be pressing, but surely if he was and if you minded, you'd let him know.
“maybe if you ask nicely.” the way your slow grin spreads across your lips after your words has his eyes widening slightly, erasing any worries he had previously. you want him to want you. you want him to ask for you.
“making me work for it, hm?” shinso returns your grin with that lazy one that sends you loopy whenever you find yourself thinking about it. taking your bait and running with it, he leans in closer to you. “alright.”
you've never seen a lovelier colour than the purple of his irises. “could i try to kiss you again, beautiful?” those eyes, framed by his eyebags, could melt anything they land on, and you were currently their main focus. he's hooked on the way everything else seems to slow around him, hooked on that gentle smile of yours.
“i don't see why not.”
it's all shinso needs before he comes in even closer, breathing in slightly before pressing his lips against yours. you instantly melt into the feel of him, trying to focus on the rhythm and not his hand coming up to rest on your lower thigh, finding a home against it.
you note the faint taste of coffee and the softness of his lips while your hand brushes up his neck to cup his face, not knowing how every inch of skin you touch feels warmer when you leave it behind.
your hearts are left thumping hard when you pull away, lungs taking in air throughout your shallow breathing. you look even more magical to him than you ever have, a feat he didn't think was even possible.
“that was much, much better.” he lets out a breathy chuckle and it only provides the butterflies fluttering in your stomach with more energy.
you smile, nodding a little. “way better. maybe third time's the charm—”
shinso’s kissing you again, and it's everything you both hoped it would be. it's private and so perfect that way, like a little joy you both keep for yourselves. his mouth on yours feels so right, and you don't think either of you will be leaving this couch anytime soon.
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
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delaber · 6 months
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Firestarter (Loki x Reader)
Summary: After having been granted safe passage to the Avengers’ head quarters, Loki’s delighted to learn that he can pass the time by toying with the hate of the newest recruit.
Tropes: Enemies to lovers.
Words: 4.2K
Warnings: smut, mentions of battle injuries
Find part 2 here
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They would all be fools to trust him. They know it. Loki knows it. Hell, even the specs of dust floating around know it!
The only one that seems eager to patch up the growing rift between the opposite sides of the room is the meathead of his brother who is blabbering away, trying hard to ignore the cold air coming from the other Avengers.
He's persistent, you'd have to give him that. They must really love Thor to grant Loki safe passage in their home like this.
- The stab of a thought hits Loki straight in the chest. Sticks to his ribs as he contemplates the sharp hate radiating off of the cotton-clad team opposite him. They don't look the least bit threatening in their oversized casual wear, but they've still granted his brother the upper hand so graciously, and for the first time in a while, he feels the balancing scales tip. It was easier when it was just the three idiots Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg who were fawning over his brother - Sif on occasion too, though Loki had had her in multiple ways Thor could never even wrap his pea-sized brain around.
The thought alone makes the tar on his ribs slowly drip away.
He must've drifted off, lost in thought of Sif with her bare ass in the air because the next thing he registers is Thor's meaty hand between his shoulder blades. "You all know my brother..." he chuckles awkwardly and pushes Loki forwards. Adds his name for clarification when nobody answers. Idiot.
The room's almost dead-silent. Stark scoffs theatrically loud and that Barton fellow turns a lovely shade of plum as he immediately races out of the room without uttering a single word - not that Loki can really blame him; he's killed for less.
Even the newbies on the team are staring daggers at him, though Loki doubts he's ever met any of them before; Captain Rogers' brooding siamese twin, the beefed up action figure beside him and that... woman - the pretty one - her eyes ablaze with a certain kind of hatred that he can physically feel down his spine as she scowls in his direction.
Loki cocks an eyebrow, amused that his reputation precedes him so much that her hate is tangible, and she huffs and pushes through the crowd while the one with the metal arm - the siamese twin - grabs her shoulder to prevent her from stepping too close. It only angers her even more and she shakes off the vibranium hand but stands her ground with her head lifted in cool arrogance, her eyes never wavering from Loki's.
Oh, she really hates him!
The look on her face reminds him of the tales he's heard of Muspelheim. Of Surtur and flames shining brighter than the sun; all of Asgard burning while the glass of the shattered rainbow bridge glistens in the flames and sticks to his skin, covers his hair. With her, there's fire in the air. He feels it immediately and it draws him in.
***
He spends his days in the shadows, observes the dynamics of the Avengers, gathers information in case he has to do something... drastic. He's not exactly planning on betraying the trust his brother's placed in him, but it's never unwise to have a plan to overthrow the Avengers - just in case. So he learns what he can from afar; their likes, their dislikes, their routines. But mostly, Loki just observes her.
She really loathes him which only makes it all the more fun. She storms off whenever he comes close. Flares her nostrils, squares her jaw, stamps away like a petulant child - and he must admit that he does love it! He enjoys having her wrapped around his little finger, that his mere presence can pull such a sincere reaction out of her. It makes the seidr in his veins feel electric; like pure voltage in the palm of his hand as it begs him to show off - show her - what he can do with it. He wonders if this is what Thor feels like when his eyes turn bone-white and arctic blue with lightening.
"I wish you would stop with that."
Loki glances towards his brother, tries to look as bored as possible as if he really doesn't know what he's talking about. "Stop with what?"
Thor gives out a long sigh and Loki is reminded of the first time Thor was disappointed with him; even though it's almost a thousand years ago, he can still smell the sweetness of the stolen tarts he'd hidden underneath his pillowcase and the empty hole in his chest where he knew he should be feeling shame but didn't.
"You know what I mean... It's not nice."
"In case you haven't noticed; I don't care about being nice."
"You're taunting her."
"She's an easy target," Loki hums with remnants of a chuckle, places his hands on the back of his head as he looks over at her. Even as she does something as mundane as drinking her morning coffee, she keeps a wary eye on him. It's entertaining. "You really can't blame me."
"It's not as if she's dangling bait, brother. You hurt her."
"I hurt her?!" Loki snaps, offended, "- when?"
"You really haven't realised?"
"Realised what?"
Another sigh. "Can't you tell she's from New York?"
Loki stops replying after that. Settles on picking an imaginary crumb from off his chest; thin crusted and rhubarb filling. He avoids Thor's gaze. He doesn't feel empty now and they both know it.
***
He'd come running through the compound with the rest of them as soon as the strangled war cry had met his ears.
Half-hiding behind one of the huge stone columns, he takes her in; she's covered in blood from head to toe, panting harshly as she stands in the middle of the hall, daggers still clutched tightly in both hands as her friends surround her. She looks fiery, evil, war ready - like the Valkyries from back home with their spears and their feminine hands skilfully wringing death out of anyone who crosses Asgard.
There had been a time where Loki had been afraid of them, and then, as he grew a little older, completely mesmerised by their raw beauty and the smell of battle as they rode towards the Royal Palace to report back to Odin and his ravens. He remembers standing in the hallowed halls of Valaskjalf with Huginn and Muninn circling above him as the Valkyries take off their helmets and look towards his brother. What he wouldn't have given to have one of them stab him, let alone notice him. Five hundred years later and it still hurts...
Steve Rogers is standing right by her side, not covered in as much blood as she is but still looking relieved to be back home. He sends a nod in Stark's direction and throws an electronic device across the room with a defeated sigh. It doesn't take a genius to see that even though the mission went well, they'd been ambushed.
Rogers takes a step closer to her, puts his arm around her shoulders as to hug her, and for the first time since they appeared in the entrance hall, she howls in pain, collapses on the floor and wrings her face in the most horrible way.
Loki notices the hole in her suit first. Sees how the red comes in pulses and flows down over her shoulder and chest. She's been stabbed, and by the looks of the dark red tissue in the gap, it's deep.
Steve Rogers yelps in shock, throws himself down on the ground beside her and instantly starts pressurising the wound with his bruised hands while his two companions are by her side immediately, ready to scoop her up in their arms and carry her to safety.
Loki takes in the scene unfolding before him; the three frantic men, the spurting blood, her panicked face as she cries. Swears he can hear Hel whisper her name.
"Leave her," he suddenly hears his own voice booming through the echoing hall and it drowns out the whisper.
They all stop dead in their tracks. Look around for him.
He's not sure exactly where all of this is coming from; he really couldn't care less if she died, but he finds himself stepping around the column, and he comes out with his arms raised as if surrendering. "She's gonna bleed out before you reach a doctor."
Action figure-man is on his feet almost immediately: "And what do you suggest?," he hisses angrily, "that we leave her be? Let her die here on the floor without even trying?"
Loki raises his arms a little higher and takes another careful step towards them. "I can help."
"You can help? And why should we trust you?"
"First of all, you shouldn't," he states as he simply cannot help himself. "- But it's your only chance of saving your friend."
"You're not serious!" Tin-man hisses and looks towards Loki while helping Steve Rogers putting pressure on the gaping wound, "as if we're supposed to believe you suddenly care."
Loki wants to bite back but a painful sound from her makes him hold his tongue.
"- We're not gambling with her life!"
"Are you sure?" Loki retorts and it finally makes Captain Rogers look up. "- Because it looks to me as if you are."
Loki cannot see Thor who's standing behind him, but he imagines the slow nod of approval he gives the Steve Rogers trio, because suddenly the Captain gives out a heavy sigh, his eyes downcast. "Alright then," he says in defeat and waves Loki closer while clutching her tight.
"Steve!" Tin-man appeals but his best friend has made up his mind.
All eyes turn to Loki.
He's surprised to learn that he doesn't enjoy it as much as he'd imagined he would. He supposes it's because the main difference between him and his brother has once again been underlined so cruelly.
"If you try anything," action figure man warns and Loki bites back: "What? You'll kill me? As if I haven't heard that before. Now get out of my way, mortal."
He steps forwards, squats down beside her and summons the green sparks in the palm of his hand, looks her in the eye for the first time since the day they'd been introduced. There's fire behind her colourful irises; mistrust, chaos and fear. She leans towards him and with all her strength grabs his wrist. "What - are - you - doing?" she pants and wrings him tightly.
"Saving you," he mumbles and turns his palm around, directs the sparks at her gashing wound.
She gives out a small painful hiss as the wound closes up immediately but her eyes never leave his face. They transgress from pain to panic to relief. He's there with her for the whole ride and it does absolutely nothing to drown the embers inside of him.
"Oh my god," Captain Rogers mumbles and runs his fingers over the newly-formed scar on her front as he stares in disbelief.
Her doubting eyes are still carefully watching Loki, her small fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist. Her mouth goes slack and she finally lets go of him, looks towards the closed up wound, then back at him. "Thank you," she whispers apprehensively.
It makes his seidr glow fluorescently green in his veins and he gets the sudden urge to fall to his knees and lick her clean.
Had Huginn and Muninn only still been alive, he would've made them watch this up close so they could report it back in detail to all of Asgard.
***
The Avengers are not as cold after that. Still wary of him - as they should be - but the hatred and constant fear is gone. And when she comes back from her bed rest, it tickles him that the first thing she does is to seek him out.
"Thank you," she says slowly, almost controlled, and extends her hand as a peace offering, "- for saving my life."
"You already said that."
"Well, I meant it."
He looks up at her. Her mouth is formed to a pout, her body poised in vigilance, her eyes carefully watching his every movement while her hand extends into dangerous grounds. She's still not sure what his motives are and it gives him the opportunity to toy with her a bit. "...I'm honoured?"
A short-lived flame of annoyance flashes across her features as she retracts her hand back to safety with a huff.
"Did I say something wrong?" he quips in the hopes that he can keep her attention.
"You're trying to rile me up."
"How dare you!" He says in mock offence. "I would never!"
She crosses her arms underneath her chest, "I'm trying to offer you an olive branch and all you do is ridicule me. Are you really that desperate for attention?"
It amuses him. He loves when she shows him bits of the real her. "Are you calling me desperate for attention because I don't care I saved your life?"
“Then why did you do it?”
“It was merely strategic,” he shrugs and hopes she doesn’t detect the lie that tastes bitter on his tongue. Why did he save her? The question’s been nagging him for days now. “- it’s never unwise to have an Avenger owe you their life.”
“Wow,” she blinks and shakes her head in disbelief. "I don't know why we all listened to Thor - he said you'd changed but you're clearly still a conniving snake.”
"A snake?” he smiles, relieved that his lie has her convinced, "is that supposed to hurt me? Trust me, darling, I've been called worse."
"Just a gentle reminder that you'll never be anything but a villain."
"I suppose every villain is a hero in their own mind."
She takes the bait and narrows her eyes. "You absolutely destroyed my hometown. All the places I loved. And you have the nerve to call yourself a hero?!"
"Would you prefer a god?"
She flares her nostrils in frustration, "is everything a joke to you?"
"...Mainly?" he smirks "in case you haven't noticed, I'm the God of Mischief - it's in the job description."
She takes a few angry breaths. "Life is always a performance for you, isn't it? Whether it's an endless need for attention, a humorous quip, or the unfolding of another of your great plans, it's always just for show!"
He's excited to feel that the full-blown anger's back and she's seeing red. And to think he was almost disappointed in her?!
She grinds her teeth. "Just so we're clear, I'm not doing this to imply we're even or to make you feel just the slightest bit better about yourself for what you did. Trust me, I'd still rather see you rotting away in a prison cell. You-"
"I must admit," he drawls, gives himself some time to enjoy her undivided, flaming attention as he so impolitely interrupts her, "I like you much more when you're honest with me. When you admit you want to watch me burn! This front of niceties you just put up? This so-called olive branch while you so uncharacteristically give up control? It doesn't suit you."
She wrings her arms in frustration, narrows her eyes into slits. "You're goddamn insufferable!"
***
She's not more intoxicated than the rest of the Avengers, but she is drunk. Agent Romanoff keeps handing her clear liquor in small glasses that they down in a single second, followed by strings of laughs when the alcohol burns in their throats.
He remembers being drunk like that; fresh, sweet-smelling mead from oak barrels in the hundreds, wine in golden carafes on every table. He used to love the parties him and Thor threw; the chaos, the abundance! A heavy flow of alcohol was always a neat little excuse for his erratic behaviour, but the best part was always when the mead was extra good and strong and he could get Thor to follow his lead. Oh, how they used to cause rampage! They would've been unstoppable, had they only been on the same side.
Loki turns around the brown glass bottle in his hand so he can read the blue label; five percent...
He misses the lightheadedness, the parties, him and Thor being on the same side, Asgard. He's never longed for a taste of home this much before. He looks back at her.
"You're being unusually quiet this evening," Thor says from layers away, "should I be worried?"
"Hmm?" Loki snaps out of it, turns his head towards his brother who's sitting with an annoyingly smug expression plastered on his face. "No, I'm just contemplating this piss they call beer. How can they drink it?" He gives the bottle a sniff and winces. "I never thought I'd hear myself say it but I miss Asgard."
"Is that sentiment I sense in you, brother?"
"Absolutely not," he scoffs and looks back at her and Romanoff as they give out a loud laugh. "I'm glad it burned."
Her eyes scan the room, land on Loki's for a split second too long to pretend they didn't register him. For some reason, it satisfies him. She's aware of his presence.
"You like her," he hears Thor's chuckle from beside him.
"Bite your tongue!"
"I notice you stare at her a lot," he chuckles again.
Loki wants to say something. Wants to make Thor pay for what he's implying, but he doesn't really have a great comeback to that.
***
It's later that same evening when she finally approaches him. Toned legs walking towards him, wide hips swaying up the small set of stairs, shoulders pushed arrogantly back as she determinedly stares him down. She only has eyes for him. Finally.
He can't help but meet her halfway; he leans forwards, balances his elbows on his knees, impatiently waits for her to spit on him.
"Loki," she hums with fire in her eyes when the syllables hit her tongue.
"Yes, little dove?" he quips, excited to see her riled up and finally talking to him again.
"I want to talk to you," she scans the room for unwanted attention before her sharp eyes find his again and he feels the bone-white and arctic blue. "This little game you're playing?" She says harshly, "It ends now."
He almost gives in. Almost. "What game?"
"Don't play stupid," she huffs. "I can't do anything without you keeping an eye on me. Tell me what it is you want."
He cannot help the smirk that appears on his lips and he leans a little closer, spreads his knees apart.
"Answer me," she demands, her chest heaving.
"You haven't asked a question," he says calmly as if he truly didn't notice the way her eyes lingered on his crotch.
"You want me to be sincere," she states and takes another step towards him. "-I want the same thing from you."
She's so close he can smell her; sweet, salty, tang on the back of his tongue. She's ripe like a fucking goddess!
He absentmindedly rubs his thighs. "Darling, I assure you; this is me being sincere."
Her chest is heaving in heavy pants. She's annoyed. "Then tell me exactly what you want from me."
She holds his gaze in an insane power play while he ponders for a second. Should he tell her his intentions? String her along for a little while longer and make her second-guess everything? He is the God of Mischief, he supposes, but she looks so sweet, so damn fuckable as she angrily stares down at him. So he gives in and tells her what he wants. After all, why shouldn't he? What's he got to lose?
***
A decent man would've probably kept her at an arms length, tucked her into bed and told her she was way too drunk to make decisions like this, but Loki's not a decent man. He'll take what he can get and leave the decency to team Cap.
With a flick of his wrist, they're back in his bedroom. She's naked in his lap, pushing her lovely tits up against him as she pulls him closer. "You like me," she whispers and licks the shell of his ear. Moves her pelvis against his leather clothing, "you like watching me."
"Shut up," he groans and pulls her flush against his chest, pushes his tongue past her teeth as he grinds her bottom against his crotch.
Her hand comes down between them, slides down over the trail of hair underneath his navel before her fingers find their way to the buttons of his leather pants, unleashes him without a single touch. She eyes him hungrily but keeps her hands to herself, nonverbally insists she has the power to control him. The way she looks at him: he's so hard, it's verging on torture.
"Tell me you like me," she pulls harshly down on his hair, bites him; draws blood from his lower lip.
"Ah!" he hisses though he likes it! "Careful!"
She yanks his hair again with an evil smile and Loki swears, he almost comes.
"You're a devil, aren't you?" he hears himself say as he smacks her ass and bites her nipple, takes advantage of her little jump to push two fingers inside her pulsing heat. She's gushing already, soaks him all the way down to his knuckles as she rides his hand, pinches her own nipples.
"Say my name," he pulls on her earlobe with his teeth. "Spit on me!"
She finds his eye, gives him the same evil smile as before and whispers a short "no," as she arches her back and pushes her nipple back into his mouth. Cheeky little thing.
He curls his fingers and strokes her g-spot, enjoys the sounds she's making for him. Only for him, he reminds himself and feels his chest expanding with something unfamiliar that makes him want to melt into her. He pushes it away; concentrates on the tangible pleasure and not how it makes his head dizzy.
As if on cue, her hands finally find his aching cock and she starts stroking him slowly. He's harder than ever and leaking already.
He looks down between them; small feminine hands caressing him so sweetly is a fantastic contrast to all the biting and pulling. He feels his chest expanding again. "Fuck!" he hisses and pushes himself into her hand to feel something else. Focus on the pleasure, he tells himself and stutters his hips upwards again and again.
Her fingers are running through his hair and she's sucking on his tongue while her hand sets the pace, runs over his stained head. "You want this?" She whispers, bites the thin skin below his jaw.
Fuck yes he wants this! Wants her! He groans.
"You want to save my life?," she bites him again, pulls on his hair. "You want me to spit on you? Are you so desperate to fuck an avenger?"
He hisses at that, grabs her jaw tightly. "I hate the Avengers!"
"Are you sure?" she smiles devilishly and points at the scar on her shoulder. "Are you sure you really hate us?”
He groans in defeat and releases her pretty face with a hiss and positions himself at her entrance, finally pushes himself inside with the same pace as she lowers herself down towards his hips. “Ah! Fuck!”
It's an immediate collision of universes, Loki is seeing stars and needs a second to come down to earth, to savour the feeling, but he hardly has time to get used to the warm wetness squeezing him tight before she starts moving in long, warm pulses.
He's captivated, enchanted! He bites her neck, holds her down, desperate to keep her bouncing in a speed that makes him flex his toes without making him explode. He wants this to last. He wants this memory of her hatefucking him into oblivion. This beautiful, vengeful woman who's mounting him like a stallion and riding him like a valkyrie riding to battle. "Goddess!" he hisses against her neck and she finally finds his mouth and without the use of teeth, presses silky lips against his, makes everything inside of him glow green with desire. It’s desire, he tells himself though it feels like something else.
"Loki," she finally moans in his ear and he's never heard anything sweeter.
He pulls her closer, fucks into her and smells her skin. Kisses the scar below her shoulder.
He saved her.
His seidr runs crazy, tingles throughout every limb, makes him see everything clear: he wants her to want him and only him!
That’s why he saved her.
His last thought before he completely lets go is of the disaster he knows this will bring upon him; his own, personal Ragnarok visible on the horizon. She has the power to make him crumble, to make him burn brighter than the sun and turn to ash. He feels it already and there's no stopping it.
He thinks of Valaskjalf. Of molten gold and flames licking his father’s throne.
She speeds up, moans his name, fills his chest with fire.
Valhalla, I'm coming home.
Find part 2 here
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deviantly-inspired · 8 months
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Ok so I've seen the idea of food 'made with love' being what Dream enjoys most but I really think we, as a collective fandom, need to lean in more to the idea of it, actually.
We KNOW from the comics that Dream eats food; that he was starving after his freedom. But even though he's hungry, even in the waking world, he won't eat because there's been nothing but bad intentions and malice directed to him for over a hundred years. He's wary. Like a spooked horsed.
But Hob Gadling has always been so unashamedly fond of Dream, that it's... tempting. to indulge.
(it's more than tempting. He's already starving: for dreams for nightmares for softness for sharpness. Hob is the only person Dream knows that he would take any of it from. If Hob were to offer him poison then Dream would take it gladly, if only to have something to fill the void within him. How miraculous it is, then, that Hob would only every offer succor)
So maybe Dream stares at some home-made food that's being eaten on some picnic while they're about. And Hob needles him just a bit, trying to get some information. What all goes into being Dream of the Endless? And Dream enjoys their wordplay and games so he dances around answering but his gaze keeps going back to that soft little picnic, not too far. Hob steers the conversation towards intent, and Dream admits that, yes, he can sense the intent things are made with, before directing the conversation to something a little safer then the art of consuming.
(Dream would take and take and take and take anything that Hob would give him. Even poison. And would thank him for the malaise of it. It is safer, then, to not let even the hint of hunger touch his waking form.)
But Hob didn't get to over 600 by being a slouch on his academics. He's smart. perceptive. He knows people, and Dream is certainly a 'people' even if he's not quite a person. So he makes something simple, that night. A stew maybe, and thinks of his mother's care and simple wishes whispered to the cast iron. love and kitchen magic. Spells for healthy children and a meal that will fill for longer than it should. Hob wonders, to this day, if maybe she was some sort of real witch and not just the magic that all good mothers are. But he can't ask her so he whispers wishes into his potatoes and encourages the bone to seep fully- he's going to be all bones like you if you don't fill him up- and thanks the meat for it's part and imagines it sticking to the inside of whatever Dream calls ribs to keep him going for a bit longer than he might have otherwise.
(there's all sorts of magic in the world. most of it regular folks will never get to touch. but there is a type of magic, the oldest kind, that's alive and well even in the most scientifically inclined people.)
Hob presents this stew casually. There's no fooling Dream though. It's simple appearance does nothing to hide all that was poured into it. The way the vegetables sing of harbors and the meat dreams of comfort. How the broth simmers with comfort and fullness and broken bread over centuries. love thickens the whole of it into something that will last. Something that will stick and keep him full long past when he should be hungry. To fill the most ravenous parts of him. He wants to consume. He cannot.
I shouldn't, Dream says.
It's yours, Hob replies. I made too much anyway. Wouldn't want this to go to waste.
The idea of it wasting, left to rot, a gift returned, is abhorrent. Dream never claimed to abide by the mortal concept of good. He eats the stew, and then the second bowl and then the third. And hob is only too happy to give him more and more and more, until the pot is empty and, still, Dream starves.
I shouldn't, Dream says with his eyes locked on Hob's lips.
I'm yours, Hob replies. I've always been yours. There's enough of me to pour into you, however much you want for however long you want.
I will want you endlessly, Dream warns with what little strength he has. There is nothing in me that does not hunger. I was born of Night most of all and this means that I know what it is to be a black hole, i know what it is to consume everything, even light, and still never be full.
Hob smiles and leans forward and pours himself into Dream's mouth, all of himself, all that he can spare and then more and more and more. He tastes like lightening and warm broth and bread broken under starry skies. It tastes like every daydream Hob has had for 600 years. It tastes like the knowledge that this will last, sticking to the inside of his ribs warming from within bolstering against that which would sap the meat from your bones. It tastes like something that will last.
(the oldest magic across every universe is love, of course. but you knew that already.
All stories return to their original form, after all.)
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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months
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kinktober 25 with rindou!!! 🔛🔝 kanto manji uniform
A/N: Honestly Rindou in uniform brain go brr. I am a firm believer that 18/19 year old Rindou is an obnoxious show off, fluffing his feathers up whenever he can. Cocky little shit in this fic and I'm into it. I hope you like it!! Mwuah!!
Uniform x Haitani Rindou
Your head was pounding. The bright light of your computer making you miserable--you’ve been trying to study the same material for the last three hours, and you were growing tired of trying. You thought if you kept looking at the screen your head would combust. It was time to take a break. Stretching your arms over your head, you felt all the joints release a crack that had you groaning. Looking around you realized you were the only one left in the library of your university. At least in your general area. Looking down at your phone you realized not only was it well into the evening but you had three missed phonecalls from your boyfriend. ‘Shit’. You gathered your things as quickly as you could into your bag and slung it over your shoulder before giving him a call back. It only rung once. 
‘Jesus Christ would it kill you to pick up the phone?’ He sounded annoyed but you knew better than to think it wasn’t him just masking it to not show how worried he really was about you. ‘Thought I was gonna have to fuck some people up to find you’ You rolled your eyes, smiling as he spoke. Always so dramatic.
“Sorry, Rin, I was in the library and I lost track of time. I have that big test coming up you know? Just want to be prepared.” You sighed, thinking that when you got back to your dorm you should try studying some more, even if it’s another part of the curriculum. There was never enough time to digest all the information your shitty ass professors wanted you to learn but somehow you needed to figure it out. ‘You’re stressing yourself out too much, just relax babe.’  You snorted on the line, biting your tongue. As if the amount of times your gang affiliated boyfriend knocking on your student housing apartment covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his didn’t stress you out. “Yeah yeah, I’m heading home now though, stay on the phone with me?” ‘ Of course, baby.’
-
You’d gotten off the phone with Rindou a few minutes before getting to your door, saying he needed to finish a few loose ends before giving you a call again. So imagine your surprise when you walk into your one bedroom with none other than Rindou already inside. “Jesus!” You gasped, holding onto your chest like your heart was going to pop out. “You can’t just!....” your scolding trailed off, eyes scanning the new clothing on him. Rindou smirked, uncrossing his legs from your couch and leaning back, arms splayed behind the couch. “Whatcha lookin’ at, pretty girl?” You shook your head, trying to pull yourself out of a daze and dumping your bag at the door, along with your shoes. “What are you wearing, Rin? I’ve never seen that.” You mumbled, making your way over to him and sitting with your legs up to your chest next to him on the sofa. 
“We got new uniforms. You like ‘em?” 
Like was the understatement of the century. You loved it. It looked so clean, white made him look real cleaned up. Plus, even if you hated it (not really, you lair) seeing bright blood splatters on the crisp linen would be bad ass (as long as it’s not his!) But you had to play it cool, so you nodded, casually picking at your nails. He knew you better than that. Rindou patted his thigh with a grin, “come here, pretty. You’re too far.” he couldn’t help but coo when he saw how you scrambled from your corner onto his lap, hands running across his shoulders and thumbing the lapels. “It’s nice, Rinnie..” you whispered, feeling the embroidery on the sides of the sleeves. Your head was in turmoil: the new uniform was definitely doing it for you, trying your best to contain your horny little brain. “You look...good, in white.”  He let you keep tracing the fabric, seeing your pupils dilate and your mouth part. It was kind of hot, seeing how horny you were getting just by seeing him in uniform. Maybe he’d have to stop by after meetings more often. 
“What are you thinking, baby?” Rindou grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him with flushed cheeks. “Nothing!” Your voice cracked, clearing your throat before trying again. “Nothing.” He hummed, peering over his glasses. “You wanna fuck?” “Rin!” He couldn’t help but laugh, at how sweet you were for him, really. How he landed you and had you stick around he’ll never know. “Come on baby, lemme fuck the stress outta you. Missed you today.” He mumbled against your skin, kissing your jaw, trailing down your neck, pulling at your shirt to expose a shoulder and bite at the juncture that met your throat. You gasped, holding on tightly at the lapels of the jacket and bucking your hips onto him. “Missed you too, Rindou...” a hand made its way to his long locks, scratching at his scalp while he continued to give you attention. His hands made their way to your chest, grabbing and groping at your tits. “Strip for me, baby.” His voice held authority, your skin feeling like it was on fire. You nodded, getting up from his lap to practically rip your clothes off of you. “Does my pretty baby like my uniform?” He teased, cupping your ass when you stood between his legs. “Mhm” You nodded, moving to sit back on his lap but he stopped you with a hand. “Why don’t you suck me off, pretty girl?” felt much less like a question and more like a demand, one you couldn’t say no to. You knelt between his legs, shaky hands unbuckling his belt and zipping down the pants--pulling out his hardened cock from its confines. He spread his legs wide, making himself bigger. One hand smoothed down your hair while the other lay behind the couch. “Go ahead baby, show me how much you like my uniform.”
Your lips were on him in an instant. Pressing wet sloppy kisses on his head and shaft, tongueing his cock. He held his hand on your head, not moving you but keeping pressure. He lifted his hips slightly when you moved to take him in your mouth, pressing his cock into your cheek and seeing it bulge. “Fuck, baby, look so good taking my big dick.” your lashes fluttered at the praise, slurping his cock into your mouth. You were messy, drooling already with spit bubbling at the sides of your mouth. Rindou moaned above you, throwing his head back in pleasure when he saw just how nasty you were sucking him off. “Didn’t know this would do it for you” he laughed, taking your hair in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. “Wanna come see me fight like this? In my uniform? I’d win, and fuck you right after.” Your pussy clenched around nothing, pushing yourself to take more of him. You looked at him through teary lashes, nose touching his pubes as you gurgled around him. “Fuck! Just like that, slutty baby, keep going.” You whimpered around his cock, taking him just how he wanted it. You’d do whatever he asked when he was dressed like this, mind completely turning into mush. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, flicking your wrist and jerking him as you suckled on his tip, laving your tongue over the slit. Rindou hissed, pulling your hair to tip your head back, his own hand taking over for yours and jerking his cock. “Open your mouth, baby, gonna shoot my load over your face.” He panted, taking a mental picture of you sitting so pretty with your hazy eyes unfocused and tongue lolling out, waiting patiently for his cum. He moaned, bucking his hips as he shot sticky ropes of cum on your tongue and face, dripping from your forehead to your cheeks, smearing what was left on his tip on your tongue, giving it a few smacks before leaning back and letting go of your hair.
“Fuck babythat was so hot.” He exhaled deep, hoisting you up from your knees back onto the couch. His fingers rubbed at your pussy, that had been dripping onto your floor. He grinned wicked, pressing his already hardening cock between your pussy lips.
“Now I’m gonna fuck you with it on, okay baby?”
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