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thetoadghoul · 3 years

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Volunteering: (Ohtani x Reader) <333 (Part - 2)

part 1!

plot: Wednesday’s game arrives which Ohtani invited you to, some bonding time before the first pitch <3 slowwwburn, long cause idk details are fun lol

Wednesday quickly arrived, made much faster by the crazy amount of work you were required to do for your ‘actual’ job. The last three days had been spent with you running around the LA area, as well as cyberspace, to serve your role as interpreter. It was hell, for more reasons than one. The biggest of all being that even though you were not in Japan at the moment, you were still required to wear a proper suit. That meant a tight navy skirt, stockings, and some blasted heels. Sexist men, long meetings, and endless paperwork aside, you enjoyed your job for the most part - but this aspect really wore on you. However, the pain in your feet wouldn't damper your excitement for tonight’s game. Today you were not actually volunteering at the Angels stadium.

The day before yesterday, when you were actually volunteering, a bashful Ohtani had tapped you on the back while you were picking up baseballs from the batting cages. When you turned around the giant man was holding out a lanyard with an attached document, marked ‘VIP Guest of Player’. It took all you had not to let your hands shake with nerves as you reached out and grabbed it gingerly.

“Uh, see you on Wednesday.” The man looked to the side awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“...Yeah.” You responded with a small smile, feeling stupid, but it was all you could think of.

“Well, uh, I better go...” He motioned behind his back with a lazy thumb, staring to jog backward.

You nodded quickly, rushing to go back to picking up balls before you said something super lame, or weird.

It wasn’t till you were on the way home did you take a look at the back of the stadium pass. It read ‘Guest of Shohei Ohtani’. So he had put in the request for you, that was just like him, so kind. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t excited for tomorrow.

-----

Currently, your heart was still racing, but for another reason other than a certain super cute and insanely talented baseball player. It was because it was almost three-thirty in the afternoon and you were running around your company-provided apartment, trying to get ready as fast as you could. Ippei let you know you should get there around four-thirty, by then the team would have been done warming up and starting to enjoy a pregame meal while the away team got the field to themselves. From that point onwards, pretty much everyone was free to relax in the clubhouse till just before the first pitch.

With little time to consider, not even enough time to take a shower after having just got off work, you went with an oversized red T-shirt, baggy jeans, and some cool Jordan’s. This was your go-to, and it was comfortable. You don’t have many clothes anyway, living out of a suitcase.

Right as you were about to run out of the door you remembered to grab your standard Angels cap, it had been provided to you as part of your volunteer uniform a while back, slipping it on over your tight work bun. You would let your hair down later.

All right, everything was in order, Uber scheduled, lanyard secured.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the stadium, and once it came into view, you instructed the driver to let you out in front of the ballpark entrance. It had been a long time since you got to go through the gates as a member of the audience, it actually gave you a wave of nostalgia seeing everyone in their gear, so hyped up for the game, tailing gating outside for what was probably hours.

Once you were through, you started walking through the concession stands and various other stalls, dodging around the fans that were already inside watching the warm-ups, as well as hanging out drinking and eating. There were pictures of Ohtani everywhere, people taking turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the various cutouts of him. The air was buzzing with energy, and it seemed like all for that guy. Honestly, you had worked for a couple different teams over the years, but you had never seen hype like this. It was surreal, seeing a legend in the making.

You smiled, gripping the lanyard around your neck, making your way through the stadium. Shohei was super nice to do this for you, really, you should show him your support. Maybe a quick peek in the team store would do? Plus, you deserved to spend some money on yourself. After all, this was the first time you had really been ‘out’ in the almost three months you had been in California. Your free time was either working, volunteering, video games, or sleep.

You took a couple moments in the Angel's merch shop, quietly perusing the aisles, keeping an eye out for any Ohtani-themed items. Unfortunately, there weren’t really that many, probably sold out by the fans. What was there, was way too small for you.

“Y/n, you here to watch the game?” A young voice sounded.

When you turned to see who addressed you, a familiar girl was standing there grinning.

“Hey Jordan! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” You grinned back.

Jordan worked at the store as a stock manager, she was close in age to you so the two of you often hung out. You had invited her over a couple times, both bonding over your love for crappy reality TV, beer, and of course, baseball.

“Yeah it was last minute, a girl was feeling sick and there wasn’t anyone else cept’ me.” She sighed.

“Bummer, text me if you need help?” You offered, to which she waved you off.

“Nah, you enjoy being here and NOT working.” She chuckled, walking over to organize a messy shelf.

“So, you looking for something in particular?” The girl glanced over her shoulder.

“Uh yeah, you recommend any cool Ohtani stuff? Or is there any at all... seems wiped clean in here.” You said while looking around.

“Ohtani? You here to cheer him on too then. Wanna catch his eye.” She teased.

“Don’t say it like I’m just here for my like, prince charming.” You snapped back playfully, but, maybe a little too fast.

“Aren’t you?” She pressed with an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You pouted, fake walking away.

“I’m just kidding, actually, stay here for a second I might have something you’ll like.” Jordan yelled as she jogged off to the back room behind the counters.

You did as you were told and when she came back there was a large white Angels jersey in her hands.

“Ta-da!” She grinned, twisting it around to show the player’s name on the back.

“Oh, it’s in Kanji? That’s cool, I didn’t know these existed?” You questioned, running your finger over the ‘tani’ character of Ohtani.

“It’s the last one on the floor, had to grab it off the mannequin. Hope it’s not too big? It’s XL?” She questioned, passing it to you to hold.

“Nah it’s perfect, can’t you tell.” You joked holding the jersey next to you, while you showed off your oversized clothes.

“Figured it'd be fine, wanna get rung up? I’ll give you that ‘good good’ employee discount. But, don’t tell anyone.” She smiled, heading to the register, to which you nodded and jogged after her.

After you finished your purchase and waved bye to Jordan, it was time to head to the clubhouse. It was around five, so you were later than you planned but Shohei usually practiced batting in the cages a little while longer while everyone headed in. Slipping the plastic shopping bag into your purse, and ripping the tags off your new jersey, you slipped it on over your T-shirt, smoothing out the material as best you could. It felt great to finally have some real merch from the team, and part of you sort of wondered what Ohtani would think when he saw you. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much to just show up in his gear after he pretty much randomly invited you, let alone in the stadium-specific one, as you just learned from your colleague.

After you got to an employee-only doorway, you pushed on it hoping it was actually open. Ippei had also let you know via text that it would be unlocked for you. Another kindness of Shohei, not just inviting you, but making sure you had access to all the catering and AC inside the resisted area of the building. You slipped in and locked the door behind you, not wanting to encourage some intoxicated fans to follow. The hallway was empty and cool as you started making your way to the clubhouse.

You were admittedly a bit nervous by the time you got to the doors, feeling a bit awkward about strutting in as anyone other than a volunteer for the first time. Carefully you pushed open the door, making sure not to hit anybody. The room was full of chatter, some players eating, some playing cards, others watching TV on the room's monitors. You looked around for Ohtani, but he wasn’t there yet apparently. No matter, you strolled in and went for the snack area. Truthfully you hadn’t eaten since that morning, and that was just a toasted bagel. Turning your back to the rest of the room, you began filling up your plate with cocktail shrimp and grapes.

“Nice jersey.” Ippei said, coming up next to you, grabbing small sandwiches for his plate.

“Is that sarcastic?” You questioned with a smile, finishing your plate.

“Nah, I’m sure he likes it.” Ippei jerked his head to the left.

He? You leaned back to see around the man, meeting Shohei’s surprised face almost immediately. Had he been standing there the whole time? He had obviously been staring at your back, at his name, bashfully looking up to your face when you moved, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes.

“I uh, got it ten minutes ago.” You grinned awkwardly, pointing your thumb proudly at the jersey, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a weirdo.

The large player didn’t say anything, blinking more slowly this time before opting to just nod gently, with a quick “thanks for your support”, hurriedly leaning forward to start filling his plate with all kinds of foods.

—-

Once everyone had their food the three of you found a place to sit while you ate, it was at the back of the room away from the noise, and where the two usually sat before a game anyways. A small conversation started while the three of you ate calmly.

“Why... do you only have grapes, and shrimp?” Ohtani questioned suddenly, looking at your plate baffled. You looked down at it as well, pausing for a moment trying to find out what was so weird about that.

“Uh, well, it’s because... these things are... super expensive in Tokyo. It’s like a rich person food to me.” You smiled, eating a couple shrimps happily.

“Wow. That’s so sad.” Ippei chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Shohei on the other hand burst out laughing at your response, making you laugh a bit too at your pitiful confession.

“Seriously, I feel like a mega-rich, and very posh, Ginza lady right now - eating nothing but shrimp and fruit. So fancy right? ” You exclaimed, popping a grape in your mouth.

The Japanese player laughed even harder, tears building up as he wiped his eyes.

“Those people wouldn’t touch that stuff with a three-meter stick.” Ippei stated, letting out a small laugh.

“Just let me have my moment.” You pouted through a smile, shoving more shrimp in your mouth.

The other man calmed down finally and was now sitting there smiling while he ate.

“So, fancy y/n, are you okay to sit in the dugout tonight. Not too unrefined for you?” Ippei questioned with a smirk.

“That’s, allowed?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t stay there the whole time, but.” The man responded nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s the best place to hear, ‘the surprise’.” Shohei added, food in the process of being shoved in his mouth.

“Well, doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.” You smiled at the player, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“He’s batting first tonight, you won’t have to wait long.” Ippei spoke, starting on the next sandwich.

“Hope me being in there won’t be bad luck.” You joked.

“You believe in that?” Ippei smirked.

“My family ingrained it into me, wasn’t allowed to watch a single super bowl game in the living room till I literally moved out.” You frowned, stabbing a grape.

“Harsh.” The man smirked with a small laugh under his breath.

“You will be good luck, for sure.” Shohei leaned forward in a hunch to take another bite of food, smiling sincerely at you as he looked up from his food.

“Then, I will see to it that will become a very good omen. Please believe in me.” You responded in the highest form of keigo you knew, bowing rigidly from your seat for comedic effect. Since you never studied that level of grammar, it was really freaking bad, causing the two men to laugh again.

“You’re funny.” Ippei chuckled.

“Yeah, and your Japanese is so good though?” Shohei exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

“Nah it’s pretty bad, I fell off the study wagon a long time ago.” You laughed awkwardly, waving a hand in front of your face.

“You’d be there forever if you stayed on.” Ippei chuckled again, while Shohei nodded in sullen agreement.

“Writing would be nice though, having to look up every other kanji at the doctor's office, or like city hall makes me literally sweat, like, a lot. Buckets. But when I look around, I'm the only one.” You giggled.

“You’re so honest.” Shohei chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin, still leaning forward in his chair, you grinned back at him. Your eyes locked for a while, you had never noticed, but his eyelashes were sort of long.

At that moment Ippei had to take a call, letting the two of you know he’d be back in a bit, walking off. The two of you looked away and finished eating in silence.

When you looked up from your empty plate, the large player was now staring at you with a soft expression. The warmth in his eyes made you blush, he didn’t even break his gaze once he was caught like he usually did. You responded back to him simply with a shy smile, before being the one to avert your own eyes to the floor again.

Thankfully at that moment, a group of Angels came over, slapping the Japanese man on the back, starting up a conversion. They were going over strategies for the game and overall just getting hyped up. You didn’t have much to input, so you just kind of sat there enjoying the excited chatter. Shohei smiled merrily the whole time, inserting little jokes, completely affected by their excitement. The way he carried himself really reminded you that the essence of baseball was really just about having fun with your teammates and giving it your all. He looked simply happy to be there, and it made you smile too, just watching him goof off. It was charming to see his duality of being a just big kid with endless laugher, versus the super-serious, and seasoned player he was on the mound.

You were really trying hard not to but, you were rapidly developing feelings for Shohei. The last three months of volunteering here, you of course thought he was really cute and kind, classic boyfriend material. A simple crush, like many of the girls working around him, surely had as well. However the possibility of you two actually dating had always been a foreign concept, one which stopped you from even considering it, at all, you just didn’t know if you even could. With you both traveling for work, how would there be time? Plus, what about the media? His family? Yours? All those things seemed unscalable walls, that is, until this moment, when you could feel his gentle eyes on you once again.

Maybe, there was something? Or maybe, he was just a super nice guy, and you were treated no different than anyone else.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Shohei was starting to stand up, grabbing everyone’s empties plates. He reached his hand towards you, asking for the one in your hand with a tiny nod of his head, to which you thanked him, stood up, and handed it over.

Well.

Either way, you were so screwed.

-------

Hope you enjoyed! <3

#大谷翔平 #ohtani shohei #shohei ohtani #ohtani shohei imagines #shohei ohtani imagines #ohtani imagines #ohtani x reader #ohtani #ohtani angels

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ac3id · 3 years

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“watch and learn,” | 18+

pairings: incel sakusa x fem!reader x ushijima

summary: sakusa gets tired of watching you take advantage of his friend, so he takes matters into his own hands to teach you a lesson. fortunately for him, ushijima feels the same

warnings: noncon, humiliation, voyeurism, anal, hate fucking.

a/n: this was high-key inspired by @vermiliren ‘s sakusa and ushijima concepts,,, love you <3

wordcount.: 4k+

tagging: @minitaureland, @oikawoahh, @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa, @sunshine-fangs

dm to be added/ removed!

Sakusa has a problem.

Well, Sakusa has many problems, but this one in particular manages to drive him crazy.

It makes his blood boil and his cock hard, it’s an irritating itch he just can’t scratch which makes him absolutely mad.

One could say such a problem must be nerve-wracking; something which keeps you up all night wondering how you can overcome it. Maybe it’s family, maybe it’s financial. It must be a big deal, right? But luckily for Sakusa, it’s just you.

His problem is you, his teammate’s girlfriend.

It’s weird. Technically, there should be no reason for him to think of his teammate’s girlfriend as anything but just as another girl but his heart tells him another story.

Whenever he thinks of you, he either imagines punching your beautiful face until it’s stained with wine red blood or shoving his cock down all of your holes which he hears you cry in agony. He imagines filling you up with his cum, clearing you of all your filth. There’s really no in-between, but sometimes he imagines doing it both...in the same order.

But hey! Sakusa is a good guy, he would never do such a thing! He respects women and most certainly he respects you. He obviously doesn’t think you’re a whore or anything for talking to a guy who isn’t your boyfriend, Ushijima. But gosh, even you notch it up a lot.

He rarely ever sees you, only when you arrive at bars uninvited with Ushijima or when you come down to the volleyball tournaments for Ushijima or when you wait for Ushijima while he practices in the stadium or….. When you go down to the grocery store where he just happens to be….multiple times.

Maybe you’re getting food for Ushijima, but he’s sure his teammate’s not going to eat half the junk you buy. Ushijima has a body to maintain, his health is very important to him. All of that fast food is not going to work him any favors.

Don’t you cook for him? You know, like a woman should?

You see, Sakusa is a little old fashioned. He likes tradition and sincerely pesters everyone to follow it. So it’s not a big surprise when he expects the same from you or any female in general. In the past, he’s been called an incel; a man who hates women was it? But that’s definitely not him. He loves them. Especially when they are naked on his computer screen, getting pinned down by a man two sizes bigger than themselves.

Sometimes he imagines you and Ushijma in their place and way more often, he imagines him with you over there instead.

So, see? He doesn’t women. He loves them! But… some women get on his nerves.

Some women like you.

He would never admit this, but Sakusa follows you around only because he does not trust you for Ushijima. Even when Ushi’s around, you flirt with other men while he’s sitting right next to you with his arms wrapped around your shoulder. It gets worse when he is away.

He can always hear you make suggestive comments to the cute cashier in the store while he lurks away. He’s disgusted. He can’t understand why Ushijima still chooses to stay with you.

He’s dating a whore, you don’t care about him- you’re just having your fun. You’ll leave him once it gets over, you don’t like him. But you still have him entranced, so madly in love with you. Sukasa think-no, he knows it’s only because you’re good in bed. There’s no other reason for him to keep you around for so long, being a slut you probably know how to make a man feel good.

Sakusa understands that but it still bothers him. Like a good friend he is, he decides to tell Ushijima about you. It starts in the locker room after practice. Both of them stand together changing out of their sports gear, it was a tiring day, and the two men were tired. He’s surprised when Ushijima starts the conversation, midday through changing his shirt, he starts.

“So, what do you think of her?” Sakusa knows who he is talking about, you had come into the stadium that day to watch Ushijima practice, and he had spent the better half of his time glaring daggers and staring at you. Sakusa says your name cluelessly, “Yes, her.” Ushijima replies.

Sakusa clicks his tongue, “I think-” “Cut the bullshit, you’re fucking her aren’t you?”

Ushijima turns to him, his eyes dark and fatal. A frown rests on his face with his fists balled as if to throw a punch. Sakusa panics, not understanding why such an accusation could fall over his head.

“No- I- that’s not true!” he clarifies but Ushijima looks unmoved, “Then why the fuck do you keep looking at her?” the murderous glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear as he just gets angrier. A newfound fear forms within Sakusa, he had always respected Ushijima as a player and a man, he sure as hell didn’t want to start a fight with the green-haired man. He spills everything he knows, everything he’s seen.

The night when he spotted you kissing Atsumu, the relentless flirting, everything. It’s brutal, it breaks Ushijima’s heart but a necessary evil. He watches Ushijima’s spirit break when his eyes turn blank. He stares motionlessly on the floor, thinking. Sakusa feels the rage return, he’s so mad at you- how could you do this to anyone? All of you are the same, all women are the same but….but you are the worst!

Sakusa waits for a moment before speaking, “You can’t let her get away with this,” he starts. Ushijima looks up at him, listening diligently to his plan. “You should take revenge, don’t let her get away with this.” Revenge?

Ushijima’s eyes lit up at the word, many thoughts came into his mind when Sakusa said it. Revenge? Should he also kiss any of your friends behind your back? Should he be cold towards you? The idea of making you realize just how much you hurt him by lettering you experience the pain excited him. He loved you, he did but sometimes drastic measures have to be taken. “What should I do?” he asked impatiently, he wanted to find a way to fix his deteriorating relationship.

Sakusa pauses, his mind racing back to the many porn clips he has fapped to before and settling on which the big boyfriend destroys his little girlfriend’s pussy for cheating on him. “I’ll send a video.”

Later that night Ushijima receives a link from Sakusa, titled ‘boyfriend punishes girlfriend for cheating.’

“Wakatoshi?” you bask in confusion at the man standing next to your boyfriend at the front door. It was late at night and you were almost going to bed. Ushijima had texted you telling he’d be home late that night but you had managed to catch him just in time. You were not expecting his teammate to come along with him, though.

It was awkward, dressed only in some sleep shorts and Ushijima welcoming Sakusa in the house was weird. He never seemed to take his eyes off of you, you were genuinely creeped out. You let the two men talk in the living room while you headed to the kitchen to prepare them a little snack. They said they had already eaten but umm...hospitality? It was fine to both of them, they liked you better in the kitchen anyway.

“Have you tried a threesome before?” Sakusa asked, taking a seat. It was finally the day Ushijima was going to man up and teach you a lesson which you’d never forget. “No, I don’t like to share,” he replied. Sakusa nodded, “understandable.” they stood quiet for a second only for your humming to fill the room. Even though you were in the kitchen, your sweet melody still ringed till the other room. Ushijima threw Sakusa a knowing glance before he made his way to the kitchen to see you. Heading over next to you, he sized down your form.

Ushijima took a step forward, trapping you between the kitchen counter and his huge body. You bring your hands to his chest, keeping him at a distance from you and just feeling his warmth under your palms. You did this often, it wasn’t anything sexual. You just enjoyed feeling him under your fingertips.

“So, what’s his deal?” you ask, your voice low not to alert Sakusa sitting in the living room. It was late, very late. There was no reason for Ushijima to bring a friend over now, but if Sakusa needed a place to spend the night- that was a different story.

“He will go in sometime,” Ushijima answered back, his huge, warm palms caressing your cheeks. You lean into the touch as he looks down at you affectionately with pure innocent eyes until he can’t. The spell you have him under breaks and he remembers why Sakusa is here.

His thumb trails down to your lips, pushing against the soft and pillow-like features. You look at him in confusion, Surprised by his bold actions. Ushijima was a private person, seeing him act so suggestively while another man sat right in the next room shocked you...but you liked it.

You obediently open your mouth letting his digits enter your hot carven. A tingle of a dull, throbbing pull settles on your tongue as you frown. Looking up at Ushijima through your lashes, you watch him glare at you while he pinches your tongue between his two fingers.

You whine out, there was no lie that you like it rough but the unsettling expression on Ushijima's face frightened you.

“Do you remember the last time we went out for drinks with the team?” your eyes widened and your blood ran cold, you knew exactly what he was getting at. “Nod your fucking head, bitch.” his pinch grew tighter making you squeal harder and you hastily nodded. You heard footsteps ring as Sakusa appeared into the room. Turning your eyes to his immediately, asking him for assistance. You hope to see a reaction out of Sakusa, disgust at most- he’d tell you both to cut it out but Sakusa stood still with an unreadable expression. Was he not going to say anything?

Ushijima caught your attention back by pinching your tongue hard, once again. drool pooled in your mouth, slowly leaking past your lips. It was disgusting.

“That night, did you kiss Atsumu?”

He knew. This is why he was doing this, you could understand that, but why was Sakusa just watching?

Your gaze lowered to the floor and Ushijima let his fingers leave you, letting you talk. You kept your head down as you spoke. it was too heartbreaking, you knew you should have told Ushijima but for some reason you never did. you were sacred Ushijima would leave you.

“That night, Atsumu came onto me…. when you left me with him that day, he kissed me- I didn’t want him to..he just…” shaky breaths leave your lips as you recall the dreadful incident. Atsumu was drunk that night, he wasn’t thinking straight. He apologized to you sincerely the next day but the damage was done. you could still feel his uninvited touches roaming all over your body when he tried to grope you.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Ushijima turned to sakusa, the glare which was burning you now directed at him. Ushijima was furious at sakusa for accusing you but sakusa knew what he saw. he frowned at you, he remembers seeing you kissing the blonde back- you’re just lying now, trying to get out of this mess.

“She’s lying, I knew what I saw. don’t trust her,”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?”

You scream at him with angry, glassy eyes immediately turning to Ushijima and begging him to not believe the dark-haired man. Sakusa watches you with calculating eyes, revising his next move. He knows he’s not going to let you go so easily, there’s only one reason he’s here tonight. And that’s to put a whore in her place, he’s not leaving until he gets a taste of you.

He starts again, “don’t listen to her, Ushijima. listen to me, I have no reason to lie to you I’m your friend.” He chooses his words carefully to manipulate Ushijima into siding with him.

Ushijima stares at you for a second before grabbing your wrist harshly, “it’ll be okay,” he whispers your name, pulling you along with him. you scream at him, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp as he thrusts your forward.

“Toshi’ stop. seriously, no. stop,” you cry and beg but he shows no mercy. He pulls you into your shared bedroom, throwing you on your shared bed. Sakusa quietly follows, locking the door behind him as he enters. “What should I do now?” Ushijima turns to sakusa who stands next to the door, his eyes run towards you and he watches you cowering on the bed. You curl yourself up, pushing your knees to your chest and burying your head in between. You sit at the edge of the bed, far away from the two men quiring in fear and dread. Sakusa had thought you’d be putting up more of a fight but seems like you knew your place. Besides there was no way you’d manage to win against the two giants, they’d crush you even before you can try.

“Do you not remember the video?” Sakusa asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening a porn site. He clicks on the video he had forwarded to Ushijima, the video starts normally; a man talking to his supposed girlfriend but he skips the clip forward to the part he wants to see.

“You seriously want me to do that to her?” Ushijima asks, frowning at the screen. The porn actress is bent over the actor’s lap as he showers her bottom with powerful slaps. Blistering her ass and making her cry.

Sakusa nods. Ushijima looks bad at your quivering form before whispering, “like a child?”

Truth to be told, Sakusa knew Ushijima was a softie and that he cared about your feelings. That was the difference between him and the ace. He loved you and he loved you a little too much, you were the first thing swimming in his mind and it may be defined by some as romantic, Sakusa thought differently.

The thought disgusted him, caring so much about a mere woman; the man has to be crazy. Don’t get it wrong, Sakusa loves women so much he’s cornering you like this but he also firmly believes that women have duties. And by what he can see between you and Ushijima, you’re not fulfilling them at all and Ushijima is too much of a pussy to make you fix your mistakes.

He’s just helping his bro out. xx

Sakusa doesn’t answer him, instead, he looks at him with a fixed glare. Ushijima clicks his tongue, he didn’t want to hit his girlfriend like a child but he didn’t want to disrespect his friend either. He thinks for a moment before turning to you, making up his mind he chooses to spank you. A small smile of satisfaction crosses on Sakusa’s face as he watched Ushijima approach you.

His knee dips down on the bed as he moves forward to get you, “Toshi’ please, I will never, never talk to any guy ever again. You don’t need to do this.” you beg. Your eyes are glassy and your face is flushed from crying. You look up at your boyfriend with pleading eyes, hoping he’d listen to you. Ushijima stops in his tracks, hesitating to get you. He thinks about, maybe he should let you-

“Ushijima.”

Sakusa’s stern voice pulls him back to reality, he clicks his tongue and grabs you by your arm pulling you with him to the opposite edge of the bed. You keep crying and begging but Ushijima doesn’t bat an eye as he pulls you over his lap. He presses his hand against your back to keep you from running away while the other paws at your sleeping shorts.

“Stop screaming,” Sakusa commands, but you never listen to him. “Is this okay?” Ushijima flashes Sakusa a perfect view of your naked ass, your panties, and discarded on the floor. Sakusa walks over, standing in front of Ushijima, he leans in to grab a handful of your ass but Ushijima pushes his hand away. “No touching,” he commands.

As if they put salt on the wound, Ushijima moves along to fondle your ass. Playing with the soft flesh, squeezing them, spreading them all to his liking. A small smile grazes his face and for the first time, he realizes how much smaller you are compared to him. It makes him feel mighty, he loves the power he holds over you right now. The thoughts about what he can do to you flow straight to his cock. You feel his ever-growing bulge poke at your stomach under his pants.

Sakusa picks up your panties from the floor and right over in front of you, he grabs your face with his hands, squishing cheeks before shoving the panties into your mouth shutting you up once and for all. Ushijima throws him a glare but decides to ignore it eventually. His hands roam over your back one last time before he brings it up into the air and slams it down onto your round ass swiftly.

You cry out in pain, your bare ass stinging and burning. You hope for your boyfriend to calm down but he doesn’t give you a break, repeatedly hitting your ass with no sign of mercy. You cry and wither around, mumbling words that get muffled behind the gag making it impossible for any of them to understand.

Sakusa patiently watches the scene in front of him, you’re crying in pain while Ushijima spanks you. It’s kind of like the scenes he always fantasized about, the only difference being it’s him who’s raining down slaps on your naked ass instead of Ushijima.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“What?”

Sakusa wants to touch you, he wants to feel you under him. He’s not going to let himself watch you both doing it all night while he stands at the side with a raging boner and besides, Ushijima wasn’t hitting you hard enough. He pauses, looking up at Sakusa and you sigh in relief.

“You’re hitting her hard enough, at this rate she’ll never fear you,” he taunts and you frown. Your ass was already painfully red and swollen, you couldn't imagine how much longer you’d last.

In a flash, Ushijima pulled you on your feet, holding you by your arm. “You do it. I’m not enjoying this,” Sakusa’s eyes light up and he holds his urge to smile, he does not want to out himself.

“Watch and learn,”

He quietly walks over and changes roles, you squirm in his grip shaking your head no. You did not want to left under Sakusa’s touch at all, you had a feeling he hated you- which he did. He pulled you over his thighs where you could feeling his raging boner hit your stomach and just like Ushijima he started slapping your ass swiftly faster and much harder than your boyfriend.

They come without any warnings one after the other. You feel yourself tapping out now and then but a swift, harsh pull to your hair did just fine in waking you back into the nightmare. After Sakusa was done with abusing your ass, he started rubbing and playing with you. He squeezed your cheeks making you wince, spreading it open staring at your pulsing hole. His fingers even slipped down lower, dangerously close to your cunt.

“Sakusa,” Ushijima’s heavy voice cut through and Sakusa immediately lifted his hands off you. He pushed you down on the bed and removed the panties he had stuffed into your mouth. You coughed, your throat hoarse and your body exhausted.

Your bottom was numb, you could not feel a thing and your body was on fire. Ushijima called out to you, caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?” Ushijima felt bad. In all honesty, he did not want to hurt you but hearing the things Sakusa had said to him about you and what you did when he was not around made him feel like a small man, a man with no pride. It bothered him so he listens to Sakusa. He seemed to know what he was doing but now he sat filled with regrets.

Sakusa slapped Ushijima’s hand away from your face, “She’s fine. We aren’t done yet.”

Sakusa pulled you closer to him and ripped your shirt off your body, squeezing your tits and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. Ushijima dragged you back to him, at this point both the men were using you like a rag doll, literally. “I’m fucking her pussy.” he declared. You whined as he made you sit down on the bed but quickly switched positions so that you were straddling his thigh. You could see the dent in his jeans propped up, begging to be released. “What? Am I supposed to take her ass? That’s gross.” “You can use her mouth too,”

That was even grosser, Sakusa wanted to fuck your pussy. No doubt he’d love to ruin your ass and your mouth but today he wanted your pussy. He opened his mouth to speak but was immediately speechless when he saw Ushijima making out with you. He kisses you so passionately, your lips molding together, his tongue going down your throat. For a moment it felt like he wasn’t going to rape you here and now. Hell, maybe you are even enjoying this.

He scoffs, unbuckling his belt he walks behind you, settling for your ass. He feels like a third wheel, watching Ushijima kiss you so lovingly; licking your neck and biting down your tits making you moan.

He lifts you, spreading your cheeks, presenting your gaping hole to Sakusa. “You can go first,” he offers. Your start squirming around once again trying to free yourself from him. “Please, Wakatoshi no it will hurt. Please don’t-” “Shut up, bitch” Sakusa comes behind you, his hands closing around your petit neck. He squeezes around the soft flesh, effectively shutting you up. Out of desperation, you look up at Ushijima with watery eyes only to see him glaring at Sakusa. He slaps away Sakusa’s hand away from your neck, “Careful, she’s not yours’ bro.” his voice is filled with sarcasm. Sakusa scoffs moving back, “is she yours though? Sucking up to every guy ever who gives her an ounce of attention? Hate break it to you but your girl’s a whore, dude.” Sakusa returns. Sitting in the room with a hard-on, they glare at each other. Co-operating with Ushijima was harder than Sakusa thought and Ushijima much more possessive than he seemed.

The longer he stared with Sakusa with murderous intentions, the more fragile his grip on you became. Once you spotted it was weak enough, you broke out of it made for a run.

‘Fuck!” Ushijima screamed and chased after you with Sakusa following. You don’t get far, they catch you in the corridor. Ushijima pushes you against the wall, his hand coming up to grab your jaw making you look at him. ‘One fucking thing [y/n]. I told you it’ll be over fucking soon, didn’t I?” he slaps your face once. “It’s all your fault anyway. If it weren’t for you whoring out there like a fucking slut you wouldn’t be in this situation.” he slaps you twice, ouch. You plead guilty, promising him you’d never do it again but after repeated denials, you change your request. You choke back sobs as you try to calm your uneven breathing, “You can do anything you want to me but...just not him, please.” you turn to Sakusa shaking like a leaf. You didn’t want that man to be near you, nevertheless, touch you.

Ushijima thinks for a moment, turning to Sakusa. He thinks long and hard before answering, “It will be okay.” he says before pushing you against Sakusa. He didn’t want to give you up but you know what they say...Bros before Hos. Sakusa catches you roughly and pins you against his chest. He wraps his arm around your waist, letting the other pulls his pants down and pull his throbbing cock out of his briefs. It stands tall, not as thick as Ushijima but he’s big. With the red tip leaking with pre, he gives it a pump.

“Hold her legs,” he commands. Ushijima walks up to the two of you with his huge cock out and leaking, he wastes no time in grabbing one of your legs and pushing it up.

He lines his tip with your dry hole, “that’s enough foreplay, now,” he slowly truths inside, breaching past your cute cunt, splitting you into two. A burning pain flashes through you, slowly getting replaced by pleasure. Your tight cunt sucks up around his cock, salivating as he hits deeper and deeper. Sakusa gets tired of watching as he pushes his tips past your rim making you scream out. The intrusion is weird and unfamiliar, the deeper he goes the more evident it becomes. Sakusa decides to show you some mercy when he flicks down your little clit, pulsing with need. All of a sudden you start withering with pleasure, completely forgetting about the compromising position you are in.

“Fuck.” Ushijima mutters, your moans a melody to his ears. “Fuckin whore likes this,” Sakusa wanted you to shut up, your moans were turning him off. Sakusa felt he was close. Your walls hugging him snuggly, trying to milk him for all he’s worth but he doesn’t want to give up yet. There's an unspoken competition between the two men; whoever can last longer and his pride won’t let him loose. He holds himself together for a little longer, hoping for Ushijima to come before him.

“Don’t cum inside,” the green-haired man commands. He is close, his thrusts hit sloppy and uneven. He bits down on your neck as he shoots his thick, white load into your womb cumming with a loud grunt. Sakusa follows soon after, his length twitching he pulls it out of you. He jerks his cock over and cums all over your back.

He lets go of you, and you fall onto Ushijima, your boyfriend's strong arms wrapping around you to steady you up. “You should leave,” he suggests. He pulls his dick back into his pants and walks to the door, throwing a glance behind his shoulder; he sees Ushi stripping out his shirt and dressing you with him. He scoffs and turns around, feeling disgusted he can’t wait to go back to his own home and take a fucking shower. Even though he finally gets what he had wanted, he can’t help but feel unsatisfied. It would have been much better if it was just him and you minus the possessive freak, maybe….he can come again when Ushijima is not around….What’s the worst which could possibly happen?

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eggtoasties · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Miya Atsumu X Reader

Rating + Notes: T: mentions of swearing, nausea, vomit but FLUFF

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After getting his wisdom teeth removed, the score is: Miya Atsumu: 0, Miya Osamu: 2

“Remember when ya’ almost threw up in m’ car?” Atsumu asks from the passenger seat, lowering the volume of the music and grinning.

“God, shut up. I thought you promised not to bring that up again,” she huffs, eyes focused on the road.

“Well anyways,” he says sunnily, sticking his hand out the open window, “I won’t need this.” He kicks at the plastic bag she brought for emergencies. “When Samu got his wisdom teeth out a few years back, he was high for like, two hours then jus’ passed out for 10 hours. An’ besides ya’ almost yakking in my car,” he looks at her over his sunglasses, “ya’ also just slept. So, this is gonna be easy breezy,” he sing songs, kicking his feet up on the dash.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, “you’re already such a handful, you better be well behaved.”

Waiting in the lobby together, Atsumu absentmindedly thumbs through a gossip magazine and peers over her shoulder at her phone.

“If I act all loopy, will ya’ video me so I can show the team?” resting his chin on her shoulder.

“You better not, I have to drive us back. And besides,” she says, turning her head towards him, “thought you said this’ll be easy breezy?”

Atsumu throws a cocky grin and rests his hands behind his head, sprawling in his seat. “Yeah, yer right babe.”

Getting called in from the lobby, Atsumu stands up. He hands her his phone and throws her a wink. She rolls her eyes but shouts after him.

“Good luck!”

After forty minutes, Atsumu is escorted back into the lobby with two dental assistants next to him.

“He’s pretty lucid after the surgery, so you’re free to take him home,” the one in green scrubs says. “Here’s a pamphlet on what he can and can’t do, eat, and drink and here’s gauze,” he finishes, handing the items to her.

“How’re you holding up, Miya-san?” the assistant in blue scrubs asks.

Atsumu has a dazed expression on his face, lids half dropping—almost reminiscent of his twin. Looking between the two assistants holding his shoulders, his eyes finally registered who was in front of him.

“Oi, yer real pretty,” he drawls, head tilting to one side.

Trying not to let the heat rise to her face, she turns her head ignoring the amused glances from the dental assistants.

“We’ll help him to your car,” one of them says.

Thankfully, Atsumu was compliant and walks relatively steadily to the passenger’s side. Strapping him in the assistants reminds her to call if any problems arise. Thanking them one last time she gets into her seat for the journey home.

“Hey,” she says softly, getting Atsumu’s attention, “how do you feel?”

He was resting the crown of his head on the head rest, chin jutting up towards the roof. Turning his head, he looks down at her with a bleary expression.

“’M fine, tol’ ya’ easy breezy,” he replies with a mouthful of gauze. “Lets g’ home an’ sleep,” drawing out the last word with a whine.

Chuckling, she puts the car in drive and heads home.

Turns out, Atsumu wasn’t the one who needed luck. She did. Twenty minutes into the ride, Atsumu taps into some drug induced energy. Writhing in his seat, trying to take out the gauze in his mouth, and repeatedly screaming that the doctors had stolen his tongue, she is at her wits end.

On the car ride to the appointment Atsumu had been going on about how since he and Samu had the same genes, it was only natural that he had the same subdued reaction to the anesthesia.

She questioned how true that was when his wisdom teeth didn’t grow until recent, years after Samu, to which he replied, “’M no geneticist, babe.”

Twenty minutes into the car ride with ten minutes to go, she whips her phone out at a red light and hits Video Call. Hearing, rather than seeing Osamu’s confused state, she shoves the phone in Atsumu’s hands, similar to an exasperated mother with a small child.

“Osamu. He’s a mess, do something about it,” she bites out, hitting the gas at the green light.

At her words Atsumu lets out an indignant screech and through the gauze he mutters, “Pretty ladies shouldn’t be so mean to the injured.”

“What am I supposed ta’ do with the idiot,” Osamu complains from the phone.

“I don’t know make him stop moving!”

From the corner of her eye she sees her boyfriend hunch over her phone and hold it extremely close to his face.

Squinting, he asks, “Why’re ya’ so ugly?”

A string of explicative comes pouring out her phone and Atsumu cackles, toppling over towards the middle console.

Clenching the wheel with two hands and taking a deep grounding breath, she repeats to herself like a mantra, five more minutes.

Finally pulling into the parking garage of their apartment complex, she was ready to pour herself a large glass of wine.

Atsumu and Osamu were still yelling, throwing playground insults about the other’s looks. She figures Atsumu’s claims about being the smarter twin has to be a lie and briefly rests her forehead on the steering wheel, summoning the strength to get her boyfriend to their apartment.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she catches Atsumu frowning and fixating out the window, ignoring Osamu. She leans over to unbuckle his belt and jumps in her seat when his shoulders and neck lurch forward. She lunges for the plastic bag and holds it under his mouth swearing.

“’Tsumu do you think you’re gonna puke or can you make it to the apartment?” she asks, praying it was just a bout of nausea.

“Yeah ‘mfine, ‘mfi—”

She lets out a screech as he throws up into the grocery bag and clamps down on her own gag reflex. After a minute, Atsumu throws his head back into the head rest and looks at her with spit dripping down the side of his lip.

“The gauze left me.”

“Yes,” she responds gingerly, tying the bag carefully. “I see that.”

Leaving the car as fast as possible to throw the bag away, she catches Osamu howling through the phone.

“Ya’ absolute scrub,” he chokes out between heaving breaths.

Hours later after rinsing out Atsumu’s mouth, shoving gauze back in without getting her fingers bitten, and forcing him in bed, he blearily comes out of the bedroom into the living room.

Nursing a glass of wine and watching some reality program she peers at him over the rim.

“Well,” she asks, “are you done?”

Stepping carefully towards her, he sits next to her with his hands in his lap.

Cheeks swollen he mutters, “’M sorry.”

She hums and swirls her stem. She’s not angry, but seeing Atsumu puffy and shy is filling her with an unbridled amount of glee. Leaning her head on his shoulder and noticing how he melts into her, he presses a kiss into her hair.

“Thank ya’ for takin’ care of me,” he whispers.

Before she can respond, their phones vibrate. Both getting a message from Osamu, they share a concerned glance before tapping at the message.

It’s a shaky video of Atsumu. The angle is low and unflattering and Atsumu’s staring out into the distance until he gags and a plastic bag obscures his face from view.

Atsumu stares at his phone in disbelief as text bubbles pops up.

From Osamu: HAHA u ugly SCRUB

From Osamu: sent this to ur whole team too better give your girl some apology flowers LOSER

Groaning, Atsumu buries his head into her lap as she laughs. Shoulder shaking, she cards a hand through his hair.

“I’ll get ya’ yer favorite,” he mumbles.

Leaning towards his head, she kisses his temple and scratches his scalp. Her lips ghost the shell of his ear and she whispers, “Pick up dinner too.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #miya atsumu fluff #miya twins #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x female reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #miya atsumu imagines

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robinsdearest · 3 years

Text

Quick Enemy Patch Up

Jason Todd x Reader

[Totally and utterly based on this TikTok I saw the other day]

You slump against the brick wall. It’s not as comfortable as you’d hoped it would be, but it’ll have to do for now. One hand attempts to dust off the rest of your costume as the other applies pressure to the ever-quickly bleeding stab wound in your abdomen.

You thought of yourself as a lowly, blue-collar criminal only good for the occasional museum robbery or as a beneficiary gala jewel thief. You always worked solo, had the occasional police run-in, and more often than not, you were met by other Gotham vigilantes trying to catch you. Nothing could surprise you after being in the game for as long as you had been. At the very least, you should have expected a job gone wrong would have ended with a Black Skull goon tying up loose ends.

You close your eyes and sigh thinking about what went wrong. The ache in your bones and the pounding in your head stole the thoughts away- everything was getting blurry at this point. Breathing was getting difficult, and you really wondered if someone would find your cold body in the morning.

A slight thud has your eyes shooting open, and your free hand goes to the blade you were carrying. Even though you’re wincing in pain, you lean forward to watch a figure emerge from the blackness of the alley.

“My, my, what do we have here?” The voice mocks as it makes its way towards you. You slightly relax and drop the knife as the dim light reflects off your company’s helmet.

“Red Hood, I didn’t take you as someone to ask stupid questions.” The two of you had a long history of run-ins. He always seemed to be the one to keep you from obtaining your best items. Most of the time, he’d have you in situations pretty similar to this one. He was your very own public enemy number one.

The man with the hood laughs again; he’s gotten close enough to where he squats just above your sprawled out legs. He takes a gloved finger to lift your chin and examine your face.

“Looks like someone could use some help.” With the pop of the last word, he flicks your chin down. You wish you had more energy to snap back- you didn’t need his help. The snarl you pull does nothing to deter the man. “I don’t plan on knocking someone while they’re down, sweetheart.” He reaches over with one hand to support your upper back and another to lift up your legs. You attempt to struggle against his hold on you at first, but exhaustion soon takes over- you pass out from blood loss before the two of you can exit the alley.

_________________________

The smell of something cooking has you slowly waking up. Consciousness comes to you all at once; glancing around, you realize you’re on a couch in what appears to be an apartment. Your immediate thought is that it looks like it came right out of 1980’s furniture magazine.

Rising up on your elbows, you notice the TV playing a movie you’ve never seen before, a coffee table littered in medical supplies, and an empty wall where you can hear a radio playing behind it. Inch by inch you move the rest of your body until you’re upright. Your entire body seems to be bandaged- there’s a dull ache where your open wound should have been, and you are definitely in clothes that do not belong to you. You get to your feet by holding yourself up on the couch arm. You limp to the wall where you regain a hold to keep yourself standing. Beyond the wall where the music is playing, there’s a dining table with your costume and cowl. Next to it, a dazzling red helmet.

“Damn, I didn’t expect you to wake up that quickly. I was hoping to finish cooking before you woke.” The man’s voice startles you, and flight instincts have you scan the area for your quickest escape route. Spotting a door, you make a run for it. However, the attempt is pathetic, and the fast movement has you face first in the carpet. You cry out in pain as you feel something along your side tear. You hear a string of curses before strong hands are lifting you. “What in the hell was that for? I just patched you up.”

The man places you in a chair at the dining table. He goes back towards the living room and returns with the medical supplies you saw before. He squats next to you and starts to raise your shirt. He tries to fully take it off of you, so you swat his hands away. You’re met with deep blue eyes, and you finally get a good look at the man trying to help you. You let him pull off your shirt while you continue to take in his features: thick black hair, slight freckles across his nose, broad shoulders, and incredibly large hands that seem to work so delicately. A comfortable silence settles between you as he works to fix the stitches you reopened. He finishes and sets the sutures on the table before he speaks.

“You were barely conscious and almost dead when I found you. I hope you realize that, darling.”

“You didn’t have to help me, Hood. I was doing fine by myself.” The man scoffs in response.

“Fine? You almost bled out before I even got you back here.” He gestures to the apartment and looks down to your costume. He taps your forehead. “And besides, now I know what you look like behind the mask. And you can say the same for the man behind the hood.”

He walks back to the kitchen to finish the cooking he had started earlier. You attempt to pull the shirt back over your head, but fail. You forgo the shirt, and only an instance later is the Red Hood walking back to you with plates in hand. He sits next to you, hands you a fork, places the plate in front of you, and begins eating.

“Jason.” It’s simply stated in-between bites. The name seems like it fits well.

“Y/N,” you reply. He hums, glances at you, and finishes off his plate. Once you finish your food, he takes the plates back into the kitchen. After he returns, he picks you up again to carry you back to the couch. Jason cleans your abdomen wound, and then begins working on your other bandages. He takes off several wrappings of gauze and seems to stall his movements as he stares at your exposed back.

“Who did this to you?” For a moment, you hear a touch of concern in Jason’s voice. The thought invites butterflies to your stomach.

“Well, most of these are from you, remember?” In your mind, you whack yourself. What kind of flirting was that?

“Ah, yes. That I did.” His breath hits at the top of your ear- he’s so close, you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin. “But I’m not talking about old scars, beautiful. I’m talking about who almost put my favorite thief into the ground tonight.”

You ignore most of his words. “Oh, I’m your favorite thief? I didn’t think you could continue to scar someone you would label as a favorite night after night.” You didn’t mean that to come off as harsh as it did, but Jason only chuckled. His breath continued to tickle your ear.

“Don’t get too defensive on me now. I just want to make sure I’m the only one in Gotham giving you things like this to remember me by.”

His hands begin to explore your back, landscaping all the muscles and marks he could see. You shiver as Jason traces his finger along a thin, white line right in the center of your back.

“That was from uh- um..” And your voice trails off as his hand continues to roam your body.

Jason chuckles. “You don’t have to remind me, darling. I remember.”

You grin. “That hurt like a bitch. Took me days to get back to the streets.” You turn around so that you are seated facing him. When you finally get situated, there’s a smile plastered on his face that makes your heart flutter and would have made your knees week.

“Oh you think that one hurt?” Jason’s eyes dart from your own to your lips. He begins to reveal a piece of skin under his shirt. “Take a look at this one.”

You slowly raise your fingers to reached out and trace along the jagged scar that you gave to him months ago. A jagged line across his collarbone that was still raised and pink. You puff out air through your nose humorously.

“Jason, what have we been doing to ourselves?” He adjusts his shirt and he shrugs.

“I think it’s called just business.” His lips turn into a smirk as he glances over at your half-naked body. “I’ve never been one to mix work and pleasure.”

“In your dreams, Red Hood,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

“How did you know I dream about you?”

Your face immediately turns red: this guy was too much. His following laugh is whole-body and deep, yet he lets you playfully punch his arm. You can’t help yourself but smile. Your once least favorite vigilante had you in a puddle in his apartment. No masks, no facades, no crime fighting, even if just for a night. Maybe the Red Hood would be your enemy turned ally, or possibly even more.

************

[AN: please please please go back and watch the video linked above. I want to give credit to the one who made the TikTok, but I couldn’t find them on here.]

#jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd #red hood fanfic #dc fanfic #robinsdearest

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junicai · 3 years

Text

Relationship with NCT Dream

➣ MARK ☾ mari

½ of the best friend crew

honestly at the beginning, mark and aria weren’t very close, having only really seen each other in passing or with johnny

but after being dropped into training together the two quickly became fast friends, and now they’re borderline inseparable

you thought you knew pain? watch aria’s reaction to mark’s graduation from dream :)

mark’s the reason why aria felt confident enough to pitch some of her lyric ideas to the team, after staying up until 4am to help her make some edits so she was as confident as possible

kinda just, rests his head on her shoulder? and wraps his arms around her waist when he’s tired

mari being confused in foreigner: ???

aria said once in a vlive that she finds mark really comforting to be around - when she feels stressed or worried about something she’ll go to mark’s room and just sit on his bed for a while

aria is so close with his parents - “ahh, how’s my favourite child” “i’m doing great mom.” “no not you, how’s aria?” “wh-hu-MOM?”

you’d swear sometimes mark is younger than her, considering the pout he puts on and how much he whines when they’re not on the same team together for promotions

mark big protecc boi but also little small cuddly boi

they’re so soft for each other ( ╥ω╥ )

in one of the fancams for mark’s solo stage during superm, someone zoomed into aria singing along with him in the wings and dancing to herself with the Proudest Smile™

he’s! so! proud! of! her! constantly! she could be walking and he’d be like “omg get it”

when aria refuses to get up and make herself food (this happens way too often, she just gets into the groove of her work and doesn’t want to move) mark gets her to by threatening to do it himself

consistently caught by czennies just standing behind her and holding her hand in crowded areas - airports, waiting rooms, etc.

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

mark and aria were standing off to one side as the mc explained the rules of the game they were about to be playing. mark looked totally confused, and elbowed aria in her side before looking down and mouthing “what?” to her. aria opened her mouth, before closing it and looking down at the ground, muttering to herself, “결합… 結合….. le chéile…. le… le.. oh oh - combined! we have to put them together, markie.”and thus, a new confusion meme was born

➣ RENJUN ☾ renjaria

renjun and aria room together while she’s promoting with dream

they were so awkward around each other at the beginning :(

only really spoke in passing, or when they had to

it was renjun that broke the ice at first, asking if she wanted to go shopping for the dorm together

now it’s their thing

“no aria, we can’t get more ice-cream we’re all supposed to be on diets.” “but ｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡ please”

he’s lowkey soft for her but he’d rather throw himself off the roof then tell her that

piano pals

he started teaching her how to properly play once he found her messing around on a keyboard in the studio one day

they actually argue quite a bit

not about big things, but about smaller things that push each other over the edge because of stress

the first time he yelled at her, aria spent the night in hyuck’s room

hyuck yelled at renjun for making her cry

now they’re probably the best pairing for talking through their emotions instead of blowing up on each other

they’re both quite opinionated people, and they’ve learnt to navigate that well so fights don’t happen as often

does that stop renjun from teasing aria an within an inch of her life? absolutely not

“i’ll kill you” “can you, reach?” “LISTEN HERE-”

he acts like he’s 10ft tall, excuse you sir you are barely 5′6″

renjun was her mandarin teacher for a while, but then kun kindly told her that her “introduction” was actually calling herself an idiot

aria has a bad problem with saesangs go away bitches and renjun is iconic for going off on them for her because she doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it all

he gets so angry on her behalf

that was actually a topic of one of their biggest arguments smh

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria was leaning on a pile of books to prop herself up as she leant forwards to try and hang a string of lights on her bedroom wall. renjun walked in, and immediately came to her aid, speaking with a teasing tone. “need a hand?”

aria, without ceremony just elbowed him in the stomach and used his then folded up figure to push herself up higher. “yes, thank you!”

she got hate for that one, but it was all in good fun and renjun was laughing after it

➣ JENO ☾ nori

aria is his princess and everyone else can fight him

like they’re both doyoung’s children, but if it comes down to it he will lay down his life for her

and not even in a romantic way, just a “you’re too precious i have to protect you” kind of way

czennies thought he was in love with her for the entirety of nct 2018 promotions

this boy was hanging off of her at any given second, and there was an edited video of jeno “glaring” at lucas’ back when the taller boy walked away after hugging aria

it was faked, stan twt needs to chill out

he drags her to the gym

he’s basically her big brother? but they’re the same age - its a weird dynamic but they make it work

they’re so LOUD together

not chaotic, but he makes her laugh so hard

vlive 191030: “nono-ah makes my cheeks hurt so i can’t spend too long around him. my sides hurt too ~ ♡(｡- ω -)”

any and all fanfictions written about the two are definitely either coffee shop, university or library AUs

this man walks like a bodyguard around her - boy got the arm over the shoulder, tucked her head into him, covering her face, its a whole ordeal

dispatch released some pictures of aria one day and accidentally blurred out jeno’s face because they thought he was her bodyguard

is so. so mindful of how long aria spends in the training rooms

like, yes everyone else expects her home before midnight (long story)

but jeno actively makes sure to ask people what time she left the dorm at, and texts her to remind her to take water breaks and to come home at a good time so she can sleep

these two are the creators of so many iconic vlives - they have a bad habit of going live at 1 or 2 in the morning, just doing random things

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

“hi hi! so, nono and i- jeno stop it, stop it! - nono and i are walking down to the park to go feed the birds - yes we’re going to feed the bird- no! we are not going to feed the ducks, bread can kill the ducks! why did you bring brea-”

jeno pulled the camera from aria’s hands. “ari and i,” he looked at her purposefully, “are going back to the dorms because someone forgot to bring the bird seed, and apparently we can’t give bread to ducks anymore.”

*sounds of aria intermittently hitting and scolding jeno ensue*

➣ DONGHYUCK ☾ arichan

the other half of the best friend crew

absolute heathens to be around when they are together

donghyuck is the person aria is closest to, and someone she’d call her best friend (only when she was sure he wouldn’t hear her)

she calls him “the demon child i can’t get rid of” but will, and has definitely pouted when he ignored her for too long

generally aria is a pretty soft spoken person, but not with hyuck around - he brings out all her chaos energy (please pray for the patience of dotae)

the pair have a little tradition of kissing the back of each others’ hands before going on stage for good luck. they can’t even remember how it started, but now its an unnegotiable pre-show ritual

he’s so clingy with her absolutely everywhere its painfully adorable (ಥ﹏ಥ)

interviews? hyuck has a hand on her knee, or if she’s wearing a skirt he’s tucked his hand in between their chairs so she can hold it discreetly. in the dorms? full body tackle onto the couch, where he proceeds to lay on top of her completely.

because of hyuck’s nickname being the sun, and aria always being around him, czennies gave her the nickname “moon” to go with him

fans thought that aria was older than hyuck for a good year and a half before she released her birthday on a vlive, because she’s normally the one tasked with reigning his chaotic energy in during promotions (that is, if she hasn’t already joined him)

but off-camera, aria is absolutely hyuck’s baby there is no disputing that. aria’s sad?he’s there with ice-cream and a blanket and a baseball bat.

the winnie the pooh character that is on aria’s bed was a gift from hyuck for her 17th birthday, after she made him watch seven episodes of the show on netflix with her one night

yes he complained, but he slapped her hand away when she went to change it to something else

a twitter thread of a czennie comparing their horoscopes together went viral when people realized that it was quite plausible that the pair were each others (platonic) soulmates

after an incident involving blueberries, donghyuck took it upon himself to check the ingredients of every. single. food item in their dorm to make sure it was ok for her to eat

hyuck clowns her for her irish accent, and aria curses him out in japanese

tldr: they cute or whatever

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

donghyuck was doing a vlive in his bedroom, sitting and talking to czennies when aria opened the door to his room quietly. she didn’t say anything, just waved slightly with almost closed eyes before she crawled underneath his covers and tucked her plushie underneath her chin. hyuck didn’t even blink at it - so it must have been a regular occurrence.

➣ JAEMIN ☾ nari

jaemin highkey flusters her

not in a oo you’re so cute, cute boy make nerves go eeee

but he’ll wink at her and teasingly compliment her and now she looks like a firetruck this isn’t fair

he absolutely takes advantage of this where ever possible

“riri, can i have some?” “no, i just made these you should have helped me (-_-)” “riri~ but you looked so cute making them i didn’t want to interrupt you~” *aria.exe has stopped responding*

but when aria isn’t trying to get her cheeks to stop being red, they’re really cute together

you’d swear aria is older, by how much jaemin whines for her attention

the mighty battles between jaemin and hyuck

hyuck’s just biding his time for the rooftop fight

kinda panics around her when she’s crying, but is always the first to offer up a hug

has a period tracker on his phone but no one knows about it

he doesn’t like to coddle her because they’re so close in age, but that doesn’t stop him from getting protective in certain situations *cough cough the fansign cough cough*

jaemin and aria cuddling when they’re drunk? more likely than you’d think

he definitely professed his undying love for her at one point while being drunk, and chenle caught it on video

“noona we’re playing that at your wedding”

designated blanket/pillow hunter at award shows, and if he can’t find one then he usually just gives her his jacket

the amount of coffee these two consume should be illegal

aria prefers to call him nana and he prefers to call her riri in the dorms, so when either of them get called by their first name by the other it means A: they’re on a schedule, or B: someone’s about to die

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

nct dream on idol room were trying out jaemin’s death-in-a-cup (his coffee) and as the cup got passed around, aria grew more and more concerned with each face the members made. “jaemin if i die from this-”

he only smiled at her while passing over the cup. aria held it up to look at the black liquid skeptically, before sighing in resignation and bringing the cup to her lips to take a sip.

and then another.

“wait this is good i like this”

➣ CHENLE ☾ leri

hide yo kids and hide yo wives because leri is entering the chat

*cue aria and chenle wearing 2000s rapper clothes with backwards baseball caps*

these two are so chaotically calm

its like the energy cancels out or something

aria with hyuck is just so loud and obnoxious, and the same with chenle with jisung

so when you put those two together it just turns into le positive vibes

you ever meditated to those 132 hertz sounds? thats them in a sound

aria will hold him like a baby kitten she’s expecting to try wriggle out of her grip at any moment and its comical because he’s a good head taller than her

aria definitely has a knack for making her groupmates’ parents fall in love with her

every two weeks or so she goes for dinner in chenle’s house upon his mother’s request

they have a mutual understanding of the mental toll it takes to be around the rest of the dreamies constantly

chenle and aria sitting peacefully, watching a cdrama:

the dreamies, throttling each other: AAAAAAAAAAA

will never admit it but he misses her the most when she goes away to promote

he thinks of her as a big sister and the dorms feel empty without her there

aggressive proud hugs

so aggressive, he legit tackles her

he had to tone it down after knocking her over once backstage and she narrowly missed clocking herself on a nearby soundboard

“YAH ZHONG CHENLE YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL!”

he always gets a little bit anxious when they eat things outside of the dorms because he’s never seen her have an allergic reaction before and he’d like to keep it that way (`皿´＃)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

chenle was particularly restless that day, constantly shuffling about in his seat to the point where renjun forcefully tossed an arm over his shoulders to hold him still while the vlive was still playing.

not one to be defeated, chenle then turned to press his lips to renjun’s cheek playfully, laughing when the older boy turned away in disgust. he turned to do the same to aria, coming closer to her cheek before aria turned her head to face his.

“AAA-” “EW CHENLE WHY”

➣ JISUNG ☾ jiri

oh god oh god oh god

if aria could take this boy and wrap him in a blanket and keep him in her pocket she would - no questions asked

jisung knows she loves him the most out of dream sorry markhyuck and takes advantage of it every second

she used to coddle him a lot when he was smaller, but now that he’s older aria tries to rein it in as much as possible

that doesn’t mean it goes away completely though

“noona can you cook for me?” “of course jisungie! what do you want?”

*jeno gobsmacked in the background* “you just told me you were too tired to cook tonight”

aria: big baby, must protect

jisung: tiny noona, must protect

jaemin and aria are really the only people jisung is ok with seeing him be super emotional - and he flip flops between the two depending on the reason why he’s emotional

self-esteem, feeling poopy side of it all? straight into aria’s bed, letting her roll him onto his side so she can tuck his head into her shoulder and covers the two of them with her duvet the way she used to do when he was shorter

this boy cannot curse around her unless he wants to get his ass Beat

dancing bros

they go so hard in their NCT Dance duet videos

he keeps band-aids in his bag for her in exchange for her keeping an extra bottle of water in hers because jisung always forgets his own

jisung rests his elbow on her head a lot

but only briefly because the last time he stayed there for too long she stamped on his foot

tldr: aria is jisung’s emotional support gnome

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

jisung and aria were doing the chicken leg battle (this one) to fight for first dibs on the rooms they were going to be sharing for the next week or so. just before they were about to start, mark started laughing and pointing at how high jisung’s leg came up on aria’s, with aria’s knee barely hitting jisung’s mid-thigh

“this is an unfair advantage! this is cheating!”

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

Friday Nights and Take-Out Drabble (3)

It’s not how I wanted to tell you but doesn’t mean I don’t mean it any less.

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that!

Warnings: foul language

Word count: 1,500 sorry

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: Fast forward to several months later with these two idiots-turned-lovebirds!

“Rock-paper-scissors! Winner decides if they want to choose the movie or the dinner tonight,” Jungkook says, right hand ready, bunny smile flashing through your phone screen.

You roll your eyes as you sit up from your upside-down position on the couch. “What are you, a child? Your game doesn’t even make sense.”

“Yes, your man-child boyfriend. And yes, it does. Now come on!” He urges you.

“Fine, only because you recognize yourself as such.”

He rolls his eyes this time.

He was late on the first try, making it not count. You usually go scissors after rock, which Jungkook knows - hence, why you often lose - but he didn’t this time.

“I win!” You say, surprised. “A bit rusty now, are we?” A smug look on your face. “We’re going with Winter Soldier tonight, babe,” you continue, his hopeful face turning into a disappointed one.

“But we watched Iron Man 2 the last time, shouldn’t we watch Iron Man 3 tonight?” He tries, towel wiping his sweaty face, their Friday night rehearsal having just ended. Months after the end of the tour, they’re still plenty busy and the month of February isn’t any different than the others.

Still, you’re happy with your arrangement. Regardless of how late they end on a Friday, Jungkook makes sure to come see you, with take-outs now a staple in your relationship. Until you both think you’re ready to go public, your little home is your little world for now.

“We’re not following any order, Kook. I win so I get to decide the movie. At least you get to choose dinner! I’m not particularly picky today. I just want me some Bucky,” you tease. He gives you a displeased look.

Something you’ve come to learn is that your jealous and competitive boyfriend will always try to one-up any person who gets your attention, regardless if they’re a fictional character or a real-life individual, regardless of gender too. He thinks he’s being subtle about it, which is the funny part, but Jungkook is anything but subtle. You’d mentioned one time how you liked Evan Rachel Wood’s undercut and he showed up 2 days later with his own undercut, in a bun. Do you like it? He’d asked later that night, lips all pouty. Safe to say it took all of you not to pounce on him the moment you saw him enter the bar.

“I just don’t like him because he did my man dirty,” he reasons. You respond with a laugh, “yeah, I hear you babe. It totally has nothing to do with me having a crush on him ”

“Baby, don’t tease me tonight, please. I’m tired and I miss you and I want to cuddle you in peace while we watch the definitely-not-best Marvel movie,” he pouts.

“Okay fine, we shall cuddle in peace, then if that’s what you want to do,” you give in, hearing the tiredness in his voice, and then bidding him goodbye.

If you didn’t miss him, you probably would’ve continued teasing him, but you do and you want nothing more than to have him next to you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve spent time together, after all.

Four months since you both got your head out of your asses and finally admitted your feelings to each other - and three since you told his agency, which was fortunately supportive - you and Jungkook have found your rhythm.

He’s still as busy, but nothing that video calls can’t solve, and still falls asleep on you over the phone after a long day at work, but you both always make time. He insists on spoiling you, despite knowing that a Chanel bracelet has got nothing on a whole strawberry shortcake, especially after a long day at work. You spoil him too in your own ways - buying him novelty items that remind you of him, stocking your pantry with his favorites, and of course, through kisses.

You didn’t think you could be this affectionate but you’ve long surprised yourself when it came to Jungkook. It seems as if every time you see him, you just want to shower his pretty little face with all the kisses you can possibly give. He enjoys this, partly for the fact that he likes seeing you be the needy one for a change and partly because, well it’s you and anything you give is more than enough for him. Except for an ‘I love you,’ though; somehow that isn’t part of the rhythm yet.

A little over an hour later, you hear the incessant knocking on your door and you jump from the couch. You open the door and take in how your boyfriend looks enveloped in his oversized black hoodie - hair damp, tired smile, but eyes still sparkling like the night sky. A shower of kisses later, you find yourselves on the floor, take-out food all but unwrapped.

He surprises you with your own favorites - ribeye steak and truffle pasta cooked by one of their chef friends who runs a restaurant that you definitely can’t afford, which also doesn’t do take-outs, to preserve food quality or something. But Jungkook, you’ve also learned, lives off of making you happy, and this is one of the ways that he, as he says, puts his stardom to “good use.”

You stare at him, eyes wide. “Babe, they gave us plates,” you say, confused and amused at the same time. “Food presentation or something, Chef Choi said,” he shrugs, but unable to help the smile on his face as your eyes scour the presentation on the table.

“We’ve been wanting to eat at his restaurant,” is all you say, still unable to process what he had done, not missing the extras included - cheese and artichoke dip and tomato soup. “These seem basic, are they even on the menu?”

He laughs. “Too basic to be on their menu, definitely, which is why he was able to whip them up,” he says proudly. “I just wanted to surprise you with something special.”

The twinkle in your eyes and the smile reaching them let him know he succeeded.

One bite into the steak and you feel like heaven. It has marbled well and tastes so scrumptious and tender, as if you’re having an orgasm in your mouth. It tastes expensive, too. You close your eyes and savor the flavor, juices spilling out with every movement of your mouth against the meat. You’ve never had steak this good, it actually makes you feel emotional.

“Fuck babe, this is so good I love you so much.”

Silence.

You open your eyes to see your boyfriend, mouth half parted, orbs even darker and rounder than you remember.

“Did you just tell me you love me… while eating steak?”

You cower on your side of the table, nervous at how he will take it. The words just slipped out of your mouth before you got to the next bite. It’s not that you don’t mean it; it’s because you do and want to at least tell him in a more romantic way than this. He’d survived practice until 10PM, made arrangements to get you a delectable dinner, and you tell him you love him like this - unfocused and unaware, prompted by food, of all things.

“Is that how much you love steak or how much you love me?” he asks, a smile slowly creeping up his face. “I was thinking maybe you’d say it while cuddling in bed or watching Crazy, Stupid, Love or even like, in the middle of sex or something but this… this is so unmistakbly you that I don’t think I can be more in love with you than I am this moment.” Now it’s his turn to look nervous.

You mirror his expression from earlier, senses suddenly heightened at what he’d just said.

“I…” he starts, unsure what to say next.

“I love you,” you repeat, unable to help the smile gracing your face. “It’s not how I wanted to tell you but doesn’t mean I mean it any less. But I do, for a while now,” you continue, hands playing with each other, teeth biting your lower lip.

“I love you,” he responds, suddenly calming your nerves. “I feel like I say it in my head too much that I’m scared you might just hear it,” he chuckles, eyes finding yours.

“Well, I’d like to hear it, everyday if possible,” you shyly smile. You becoming such a sap like this is a side-effect of dating Jungkook that you definitely don’t mind.

He easily pulls you by your waist and sandwiches you in between his legs, wrapping them around you and peppering your cheeks with kisses. He hugs you tightly and lays his chin on your shoulder. Nothing is better than this. He’s starting to think this is what he wants to come home to everyday. He lets the thought sink in; that’s a talk for another time.

“Anything for you, Y/N.”

part 4 || completed

series masterlist

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts jungkook

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le0watch · 3 years

Text

It's a cold Okinawan day, with Reki shivering beneath his two layers of king sleeved shirts. One is just a shirt, while the other is a thick hoodie- and he's still cold! But when he glances at Langa beside him through the corners of his eyes, he scowls to see that he's unborthered about it. He's wearing one layer! One! That's ridiculous when Reki feels like his fingers are about to freeze off.

They're at Reki’s house, per usual, and Langa is the one talking for once. Apparently, one of the new resturaunts being built nearby features chicken and dumplings, and how he's excited to eat them again. Reki started to doze at some point, half listening, half trying not to die of the cold.

“I would love to take you with me, so you can try them!” Langa exclaims, a light pink hinting at the corners of his cheeks. Adorable. His blush is so small and faint, as if it we're trying to hide itself from view. Reki thinks that fits Langa to a t. “I bet you'd love it- would you like to go with me, sunshine?”

Reki starts at the use of his new nickname- or, well, one of the several new nicknames Langa had started to call him since they’d started to date. Which, they are still very fresh into the dating scene and being boyfriends- both skirting around too much physical attention or being too shy to initiate it.

Especially Reki, if they're sitting quietly like this. Sure, when they're walking or something he could and would launch himself into Langa's arms, but this is a different story. He has no reason to do that.

Unless, there is one… He concocts a plan in his brain before responding to his boyfriend.

“Of course I would, snowflake,” he replies, feeling a bit of triumph when he sees the flush of pink on Langa's face spread a little. “Now- hey, wanna watch some skating vids I found?”

“Always,” Langa replies instantly, scooting a tad closer to the redhead. Reki smiles; Langa is always so sweet.

“Alright, sit still,” Reki orders, making Langa pause and his eyebrows scrunch with confusion. Then, Reki stands up, walks over to Langa, and arranges himself in his boyfriend’s lap. He hears Langa’s breath catch as he cuddles up against his chest, holding his

phone in one hand while he adjusts himself with the other. He pauses, and looks over his shoulder, asking, “Is this okay?”

With a deep flush on his cheeks and a content light in his eyes, Langa leans forward, curling around Reki’s back. He rests his chin on one of Reki’s shoulders, and slowly, hesitantly, Reki can feel his hands and arms inching around his stomach, pulling him a tad closer. Now it's Reki’s turn to flush, but he initiated it, so he can't run off. He swallows heavily when he feels Langa's breaths tickling the side of his neck, causing a few of his hairs to tickle his skin.

“Yeah,” Langa answers, his voice hushed, as if if he spoke too loudly, the moment would be ruined. His chest is flush against Reki’s back. He's warm. Reki draws his legs in close, allowing Langa’s to curl around his shins. He must feel Reki’s shivering, because he squeezes him, helping to chase some of the cold away.

Both fall quiet, and Reki momentarily forgets what he was supposed to be doing. Langa doesn't seem to mind, because he buries his face in the area where Reki’s neck meets his shoulder. The redhead shudders involuntarily. He's never had someone hold him like this before. He feels soft… and loved.

And Langa holds him like he's a piece of glass, like he's something to be cherished. Reki’s heart swells in his chest, and he grabs one of Langa’s hands with his own lightly, their fingers intertwining. Reki lets out a soft sigh, and then tenses when Langa presses a light kiss to the side of his neck, sending heat through his veins.

Langa pauses, frowning with concern. “Was that too much?” he asks nervously.

“N- no. It's fine… it's fine,” Reki replies in a whisper. He'd dropped his phone, the skating videos forgotten in the tender moment.

They both fall silent once more, merely soaking in the soft cuddles. Reki can feel Langa's heart racing against his back, and frowns with worry.

“Are you okay? Your heart’s racing,” Reki says, starting to pull away. But Langa pulls him back in, shaking his head.

“It's okay,” Langa reassures him, lightly applying pressure to the hand he's holding. Reki squeezes back, still confused. “My… my heart races when I'm with you… It beats for you, and only you, Reki.”

Reki feels his face get burning hot, and he has to hide behind his hands at this point. Langa chuckles softly, and pressed another kiss to Reki’s cheek, this serving to only cause the redhead to squeak.

“You're amazing, Reki. You always are, and you're always surprising me, too,” Langa tells him, directly into his ear. Reki shudders as his boyfriend’s breaths and words brush across the skin on his neck. That, plus being held, and being complimented makes Reki squirm, hardly able to handle any of this. He was just wanting some cuddles- but this went downhill really fast! He thinks going to melt into nothing any moment now. “You’re honestly the best boyfriend anyone could ask for- and you ended up choosing me to date. I feel so happy every time I'm with you and-”

“St- stop!!” Reki exclaims, pulling his head beneath Langa’s chin to better hide himself. “Th… that's enough.”

He's back in the skatepark, with Langa dumping so many compliments and praises on him out of seemingly nowhere.

There's another soft chuckle from Langa, and then a kiss is getting pressed into his hair. Man, Langa got confident after Reki first initiated the contact. He’ll have to remember that.

“Alright, for you,” Langa says fondly, and buries his nose into the top of Reki’s curly red hair. “There’ll be more time for that later, after all.”

Reki swallows heavily, and finally remembers why he'd done this in the first place. He fishes his phone from the floor, flipping back to YouTube and playing the first skateboarding video on his playlist. Langa ends up resting his chin on top of Reki’s head, with Reki leaning his back against Langa’s shoulder.

A few hours pass with them in these positions, and the videos begin to blur together. The sun sets at one point, and Reki lets out a large yawn, his eyelids heavy, suddenly exhausted. This fact is made worse when Langa begins to lightly card his fingers through his hair, humming softly.

At some point, Reki thinks he drops the phone. Langa catches it just before it hits the floor, and sets it down on the nearby night stand. Reki’s leaning heavier and heavier against Langa’s chest, until finally, his eyes slip closed.

He's not asleep yet, but nearly there. He feels Langa shift a little, curling ever closer around Reki, using one of his hands to carefully pull his headband from his hair. This hair falls into his face, and it tickles his nose, but it's not too annoying.

Langa buries his face back into Reki’s hair, holding him close carefully. He's holding him so gently, so carefully… it makes Reki’s chest warm despite being half asleep.

Langa doesn’t move for a while, and Reki is just starting to drift off, when suddenly, Langa starts to move. He shifts his arms and Reki’s weight, wrapping one arm around the back of the redhead’s shoulders, and the other beneath Reki’s knees.

Reki gets surprised; Langa is slowly lifting from the ground, holding him close to his chest. A soft kiss is pressed against his forehead, and he's carried a few feet from where they'd started, before being laid out on his bed. His head hits his pillow, and Langa even takes the time to tuck him in. If Reki were more awake, he'd have started crying. No one has ever cared for him this much before to tuck him into his bed.

His hair is then brushed back from his forehead, and Langa presses his own forehead against his. It's such a tender moment, and Reki wishes he could react instead of falling further into sleep.

But then Langa is drawing away, and beginning to walk away. Wait, no! Reki doesn't want Langa to go away- he's cold and Langa gives good cuddles!

Before the taller bt could get too far away, Reki catches the hem of his shirt, forcing his eyes open. His eyelids are heavy weights that continue trying to snap shut, but he keeps himself awake to make sure Langa doesn't leave him yet.

“Stay?” he asks. He's muttering, his letters slurring, but he doesn't care right now. His voice is thick with sleep, and he can hardly see Langa’s face in the dark and through his sleep blurry vision. But he does see Langa pause, look back at him, and if Reki were more awake, he'd think that expression he's giving him was fond. “Please?”

It doesn't take much more for Langa to crawl into the small bed with Reki, squishing himself between the wall and the redhead’s back. Reki’s hand falls, and his eyes snap shut, and he can feel consciousness finally slipping from his finger tips, he hears Langa whisper, “Always, my love.”

His dreams are bright and sweet that night.

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #renga #snowgear #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #my drabbles #my writing

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distinctlywhumpthing · 3 years

Text

Together 6: Inferno.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

CW: explicit language and content, multiple whumpees, torture, captivity, conditioning, noncon touching (non-sexual), implied noncon (sexual), dehumanization, electrocution, shock collar, beating, gaslighting, manipulation, restraints, extreme control of food/exercise for appearance, mention of passing out/vomiting due to exercise/restricted diet, controlling whumper, multiple whumpers, possessive whumper, masked whumper, letmeknowifimissedany

The next day, I wake up before August. He’s starfished on his back, feet, and one hand hanging off the bed. He looks even younger asleep, with freckles scattered across his nose, long eyelashes, and not much facial hair for a man who hasn’t had the chance to shave in a handful of days. The stubble that is there is even lighter than his hair, tending toward blondish rather than auburn. He sits up ramrod straight and groggy as hell when the keyring clangs against the outside of the metal door.

“Let’s go, Princess,” one of the goonies drones as he opens it. It’s Darius, but for some reason, he’s wearing a ski mask.

Weirdo. Did you just come from robbing a bank?

Maybe the mask means they’re planning to let August go, a good thing. I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone, but I still feel a bitter pang of jealousy. I don’t look back at him as I walk out.

Wyatt is waiting for me in his office, upstairs. He’s already cleared his desk for me. There are gauzy curtains in front of the windows so I can’t see the view but I always look forward to the daylight. Today, it’s muted like it might be overcast or raining. I strain to listen to see if I can hear it on the windows.

“Come here,” he says, standing and patting the desk in front of him.

I walk over, trying to read into his expression and tone. It’s never easy to tell what I’m in for because he’s so calculating. I don’t think I’ve ever once seen him lose control of himself in all these years. I sit up on the desk. He steps in between my knees so we’re eye-to-eye, tucks my hair behind both ears, and puts his hands on my thighs. Close enough that he can inhale every minute expression on my face and in my eyes like I’m shotgunning him.

“How do you like your new roommate?” he asks.

I’d shrug if it were allowed. There’s a remote to the collar in the pocket of his blazer. Instead, I just blink at him. Does it matter? Either way, he won’t be around very long.

Wyatt nods like I really did just answer him. “He made some poor choices last night. You were perfect, putting up with all of that.” He lifts his hand to the side of my neck, thumbing the collar through my shirt. “A little healthy fear will set him straight. I bought a new belt just for the occasion.”

Christ. I work to keep my face neutral.

Beatings have never been his M.O. with me. Except to make sure the silence was deep enough that not a damn thing earthside would illicit a fucking peep out of me, but he made it a point not to leave scars. He wants my body as perfect as my behavior. Otherwise, it’s all about the mind for this lunatic. Patient enough to find the trigger that will have me agreeing all on my own. He feels powerful, and I guess he is, for knowing just how to frame things, pinpointing what I want and need, even if I don’t realize.

“When it turned out he’d be staying longer than intended, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. He’s just too perfect,” Wyatt purrs.

What the fuck does that mean?

Wyatt stays silent and goes on reading my face while my thoughts snowball.

Shit. Why are you smiling at me like that?

Finally, he seems to have his fill of my reactions and squeezes my thigh. “It’s been quite a while since you took that many shocks, Emmy, and I can’t have you being stiff later,” he tells me, then pulls a tablet out of the desk drawer. “Do a yin yoga class—you haven’t eaten enough for anything else.”

I dip my head once in a nod.

He runs his thumb along my jaw before moving so I can hop off the desk.

The yoga is part of a whole distorted regimen. Wyatt wants my skeletal frame toned and flexible. “Not just skin and bones,” he says, but then goes on feeding me one meal a day. There’s no way he doesn’t calorie count the shit out of everything that passes my lips to elicit what he wants but it’s never enough to truly exercise on. He’s had me try other things but I’d just pass out or throw up and he wasn’t willing to adjust the input to equal the output. I love the yoga anyway.

The clothes he has me wear are skin tight and all black because boy does he love to watch me move. “You’re so graceful,” he’ll croon, admiring his maintenance of my figure. In the beginning, I wasn’t flexible enough for his liking, so he’d push me in the stretches until I thought my muscles would snap. Sometimes he’ll have some look-the-other-way woman come in and wax every surface below my neck so that in a black yoga bra and practically-underwear shorts, I shine. Then, he’ll have me to do all sorts of other things.

—

When I finish the video, an hour long, he waves me back over. He’s been watching me the whole time, a serene look on his face. He has me sit in front of him on the desk again. Prefers me up here, all within reach and eye-level. Carlos brings in our lunch in paper bags. It’s an endless rotation of delivery and takeout here. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a kitchen. Wyatt passes me a compostable bowl with a plastic lid. He knows this is one of my favorites.

I narrow my eyes.

The shit-eating grin comes back.

I don’t turn down the food though, despite the twisting in my stomach. Hunger strikes result in having a tube shoved down my throat. After all, my body is his wonderland. He eats a burrito, reclined in the chair with his feet on the desk next to me. Sips Coke out of a glass bottle and passes it to me. Purses his lips while he watches me hold it by the neck and take a swig before I hand it back. It fizzes down my throat sweetly.

Fuck, what is he planning?

It’s not strange to eat together or share a drink, but there’s something in his eyes today. An extra sparkle of anticipation. Last time he was like this, I wound up hanging from the ceiling for half a day. Contorted by silk rope knots into a goddamn living chandelier. The goonies had express permission to carry me after that one on account of my limbs turning to pins-and-needles jello.

After I finish eating, he tells me to find a book to pass the time. “I won’t have you getting sick later,” he says, pulling his phone out, dismissing me.

I move my ass before he moves it for me even though my sense of dread is deepening. I’ve made a fair dent in his library by now. Naturally, being a psychopath, Wyatt is well-read and intelligent. Lots of philosophy, social theory, plenty of psychology (but I feel like those must be a trap so I avoid them), books in other languages, and classic literature. I find it a little one-sandwich-short-of-a-picnic-basket that he wants his effectively-mute captive to also be well-read but it’s beyond me to try to understand his depraved logic.

—

When he’s decided it’s time, he stands and walks over to where I’m curled up in the armchair by the bookcase. “Let’s get you ready,” he says, holding out his hand and leading me over to his desk.

My pulse hammers in my throat.

He picks up a crisp sopping bag, pulls out folded black clothes. I usually change after I shower but it’s always a roll of the dice with Wyatt, especially in this kind of mood. I’m surprised when he starts putting the clothes on over what I’m already wearing. It’s baggy sweatpants and a hoodie—also black—and then some sneakers. I can’t remember the last time I wore shoes. Next, he pulls a little case out of the bag and opens it to reveal earbuds.

Oh, hell. Not again.

We’ve done this before. He took me out to some fluorescent superstore, spread his goonies around on video calls to record me, and sat in the fast-food restaurant with his laptop. Read me a shopping list and watched me sweat through it. I nearly had a conniption at the register. It was one of three times he’s ever taken me out.

Wyatt smirks at the misgivings playing across my face and passes me an elastic for my hair. I pull it all into a low, tight bun and then he uses first-aid tape to secure the headphone inside my ear. I’d never dream of removing it myself, and he knows that, so whatever is about to happen to me puts it at risk of falling out. I haven’t felt this scared in a while and it’s making him smile even more.

I know being hopeless but no longer frightened provides an irresistible challenge. It’s not like I can help being resigned to his life for me, exactly as he intended. He doesn’t want me shitting-my-pants-afraid. It’s not about that. He could have made me vacant, and not just silent if he’d wanted but there’s a thrilling risk to pushing me. My psyche is his game of Jenga and he never loses. He knows how to manipulate, balance, and finesse every piece so that I’ll only ever wobble, dangerously close to collapse but always just shy, leaving him infinitely validated. So, I know he’d never put me in a position to truly break but I still fear the magnitude of the wobble. And the duration.

Wyatt has handed me gloves and is now holding up the last item from the bag. A clown mask.

Oh, god. Are we actually robbing someplace?

If I weren’t wearing so many clothes, I would be convinced I was in for some twisted, kinky shit, especially with these gloves. He ties the mask securely behind my head and I’m already sweating under the foamy rubber just imagining silently holding someone up. With a loaded weapon in my hand.

Fuck, Wyatt. Seriously?

He traces his fingers down my arms, pulling up my hands and helping me off the desk. Holding my arms out and looking me over like he’s seeing his prom date’s outfit for the first time and just knows that he’ll get to take it all off later. He drops my hands and pulls the hood of the sweatshirt over my head.

“Perfect,” he purrs and leads me down the hallway toward a door I haven’t entered in a very long time. I’m wearing too many clothes for what that room is usually used for. I hope.

Wyatt moves in front of me and pulls me close so our noses almost touch, lowers his voice in a way that is far from soothing. “If I’m not happy, with any aspect of your performance, I will personally tenfold it. Understood?” He searches my eyes one at a time. Left to right and back again.

I nod, stomach already somewhere by my feet.

He leaves me in the little hall, alone. There’s a yellow light bulb underneath a metal cage on the wall.

Sonofabitch. I’m terrified.

Naturally, I don’t move until Wyatt's voice comes over the headphone in my ear. “Go in. Close the door behind you.”

Calm down, Emma, you just have to survive this one thing right now. How bad can it be?

I take a deep breath and open the door, step in, and close it softly behind me, not sure what is waiting for me since it’s dark. My eyes don’t have time to adjust before the lights flick on.

All my blood runs cold. This is undeniably the ninth circle of Hell.

Wyatt lets me stand there, frozen, and unable to pull air into my lungs, for more than a few of my stuttering heartbeats before he finally gives me my next command,

“Emma, pick up the belt.”

Previous — Masterlist — Next

Taglist: @deluxewhump

#whump #lady whump #masked whumper #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #h/c #captivity cw #torture cw #dehumanization cw #conditioning cw #hurt/comfort #puppet master whumper #things are about to change for emma #turning point #in a bad way #emma and august #anyone pick up on the inferno reference?#or am i the only nerd?

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saeran-imagines · 3 years

Note

Did you see the birthday chats from 2019? Specifically the one where Saeran (as "Unknown") invites you to come eat ice cream and watch Netflix with him? Since Saeran's birthday is coming up again, could you write what if MC had taken him up on his offer and gone to meet him? (Jindere has a video of the chats on youtube if you haven't seen it/want a refresher!) I'm obsessed with the idea of this happening and I love your writing so I'd love to read this from you 🥰

Heya! I remember those birthday chats omg, I just had to buy the picture that went along with them when it became available! That and the 707 version are just so pretty, I had them as my desktop background for a good while 🥰

I made this longer than I meant omg! I wanted to get it done in time for his birthday, which, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAERAN !! (and seven too but this blog ain’t about you ❤) I have a bias for the soft Saerans so I didn’t think I’d like writing for Unknown as much as I did, but I had a lot of fun with this 😊 I hope you all like it!

You fiddle with your phone, the broken looking chat room open to “Unknown’s” messages. That hacker… what kind of person is he? There’s no doubt he’s up to no good, but he’s never done anything that would put you in danger. Quite the opposite, actually. You have a feeling he’d rush to your rescue if you found yourself in a bad situation. “It’s my birthday today. Meet me outside the building at 8 and I’ll show you a great time.” Coming from anyone else it’d sound creepy as hell, it should sound creepy as hell, he’s a complete stranger who hacked your phone, but… the feeling of dread you imagine would come before getting axe murdered just isn’t there. And more than that, there’s something in the way he typed, in the long pauses between messages that seemed… lonely. You look at the clock- 7:50. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself up, pull on a coat, and take the elevator down to the first floor. You wouldn’t be able to stand not knowing what might have happened if you didn’t go meet this mystery person. And hey, it could very well be a great time.

You take up a position right outside the building and look around- nobody seems to be here yet. The sun has started its trek downwards, the shadow on the building long enough to reach the other side of the road. It’s a little late to be out. What does he have planned? You take another deep breath and try to relax, worrying won’t do you any good. You check your phone- 7:53. Has it really only been 3 minutes? It feels like you’ve been waiting here for hours. Footsteps followed by a figure rounding the corner next to you cause you to perk up, but another person follows shortly after and you quickly look back down again, dejected. The couple shoots you a suspicious glance, keeping enough distance from you that they end up walking on the road as they pass you on the sidewalk. You must look strange, you realize, fiddling with your thumbs and glancing back and forth in the dark shadow of a building. You sigh, this is a little ridiculous. Just as you’re considering going back inside and forgetting about this whole evening, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, doll,” a smooth low voice sounds from where your shoulder was tapped, and you whip around to see the source. “You actually came.” You notice his eyes first, a striking minty blue that almost glows in the dim light. Then you notice his white suit that matches perfectly with his hair, pink accents and all. Aren’t hackers supposed to be subtle? The only things about him that match your mental stereotype are the dark circles under his eyes and the mask covering the lower half of his face. Neither detract from his allure, though. He looks like you could find him on the cover of a fashion magazine. He chuckles at your stunned silence. “What, liking what you see?”

“Ah! Uh-” you stutter out. “You just… weren’t what I was expecting.” You can’t see his mouth under the mask, but you know he’s smirking anyways.

“Oh?” he teases. “And what did you expect?” You try your best to regain your composure. This isn’t the time to be making googly eyes at strangers. God, it’s been way too long since you’ve interacted with someone. You haven’t had the chance to after temporarily moving into that apartment.

“I don’t know, some weirdo in a ski mask?” you joke, making him chuckle again. You feel yourself starting to relax. He seems like a kind enough person, despite the teasing, and talking to him is comfortable. This night might turn out better than you expected. “So, what are we doing tonight?”

“Well, I hope you like ice cream. My favorite parlor stays open late, I figured I deserve a birthday treat. You know, since I’ve been such a good boy recently,” he laughs. It’s a giddier laugh than you expected from him, he must have been looking forward to this for a while. He holds out his hand for you to take. “Shall we?” You pause, looking down at his gloved hand. You can feel that this is the last chance you have to change your mind, to take the elevator back up to the apartment and forget about this interaction. Taking hold of his hand would form a contract that binds you to his side for the rest of the night. After a moment of deliberating you grasp his hand, perhaps a bit too tight. You’ve already gotten this far, your curiosity won’t let the night end until you learn more about this strange man. You flash him the most convincing smile you can muster.

“Let’s go.” He weaves you through the city, taking more than a few sketchy shortcuts through alleyways and unexpected detours. He must have to be careful to avoid detection in his line of work, he’s walking as if he’s trying to confuse anyone who might be tracking him. He makes some small talk along the way, prying you for your thoughts about various RFA members and asking you about your life outside the messenger. You learn that he has a bit of a soft spot for Jumin, seeming to appreciate his cold honesty and business oriented mindset. From the short walk you’ve had with this stranger he seems to be the type to prefer fun over work, but you suppose you’ve only seen one side of him. So far, that is.

You arrive at your destination after around 20 minutes of walking. It’s a small sweets shop painted white and baby blue. A chalkboard sign shows the flavors of the day through the window, around half crossed out due to the business day nearing its end. You feel a light squeeze around the hand that you nearly forgot was being held by the hacker. When you look up at him you can see sparkles in his eyes. When he notices your stare he looks away, is he embarrassed? “Sorry if I startled you, darling.” He apologizes for his sudden excitement, letting go of your hand “My flavor is still in stock,” he says with a smile. “Shall we go inside?” He holds the door open for you and you thank him, walking inside and losing yourself in the sweet scent.

“Welcome!” the chipper cashier calls out. “Do you two know what you’d like?” Your partner wastes no time in calling out a practiced order, something with mint and a waffle cone that you don’t quite catch as you scan the overwhelming array of colors and flavors. Not wanting to spend too much time gawking, you throw out a fast ‘I’ll have what he’s having’ and make your way towards the counter.

“Good choice,” your partner of the evening says with a grin. You stop him as he starts reaching towards his pocket. He tilts his head at you with a questioning stare.

“It’s your birthday, right?” you state more than ask. “My treat.” You pull out and swipe your card before he has a chance to protest. He doesn’t speak for a few seconds, not expecting this act of kindness, but he quickly recovers with a laugh and a thank you as he takes his cone. “Where to?” you ask once you both successfully make it out of the shop with delicious looking chocolate dipped mint chocolate chip ice cream cones. You want to see how it tastes, but a deep rooted birthday etiquette that lives inside of you forbids you from taking the first bite. That’s reserved for the birthday boy, after all!

“Just up there,” he points to a nearby hill. “You can see the stars really well.” You smile and nod before starting the trek. It’s a cool evening, luckily, so your ice cream only barely starts to drip on the way up. Talking to the mysterious hacker seems to get easier as time goes on. Any leftover anxiety you had fades as you make light conversation and tease each other. It feels like you’ve known him for years. You attribute at least some of it to the ice cream, his speech has become a lot more bubbly and a lot less guarded after he got his hands on his cone. You never thought you’d call the person who broke into your phone cute, but you can’t help but smile at how happy he seems.

You reach the top of the hill before you know it. A blanket is already laid out at the very top, and he guides you to sit beside him on it. It’s not a huge blanket, your shoulders are nearly touching. Which is NOT something to blush about, you tell yourself. He pulls his mask down for the first time tonight, leaving you to stare at him for a bit longer than you would have liked to. He was definitely handsome, but there’s a layer of familiarity that you can’t quite put your finger on. His pretty lips turn up in a smirk.

“What are you staring at?” You almost miss it, but his hands fidget slightly as he asks the question. Maybe he’s a bit more insecure than he lets on? You try to get past some of your shyness for his sake, if he’s worried about his looks you’d like to reassure him.

“Nothing much, I just think you look nice,” you smile, feeling just a bit of heat creep to your face. “Now-” you quickly change the subject. “You have to take the first bite of your ice cream so I can have mine. Birthday rules, and all.”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say, doll,” he chuckles. He takes a bite, trying to catch all the ice cream that threatens to drip off. “There.” You grin and have a taste, too. There’s something about small shops that make everything taste a thousand times better. It’s the sweetest, creamiest ice cream you’ve ever had.

“Good, right?” he asks, already knowing your answer from the big smile on your face.

“Yup!” you exclaim. You finish your treats in a comfortable silence. The stars really are beautiful from the top of this hill, they appear so much bigger and brighter without the light pollution from the city. You glance to your side to see him looking back at you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks. He’s closer than you remember.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “The stars are beautiful.” His eyes are shining like stars, too. The darkness has made their unnatural color stand out even more, it would be so easy to get lost looking into them. You force your gaze back to the sky, trying to ignore how fast your heart is beating. “Are you? Enjoying yourself, I mean? It’s your birthday, after all.”

“Yeah, I am,” he says without missing a beat. “It’s not often that I get to go out like this.”

“Because of your hacking job?” you ask.

“Yeah, something like that.” He sighs and leans back, looking up at the stars once again. What kind of life does he have? It’s hard to get a read on him. You can talk to him like an old friend but you don’t even know his name. You get the feeling he wouldn’t tell you even if you asked. Better not to, then. You’re satisfied with the little snippets of him that you’ve gotten today, and if he wants to reveal more you’ll let him do that at his own pace.

“Well, I’m glad I came out to meet you then.” He looks over at you again, studying your face. Almost like he’s waiting for you to take it back, or turn it into a joke. You don’t.

“Yeah, me too.”

#saeran #saeran choi #saeran x reader #mystic messenger #mystic messenger imagines #mystic messenger x reader #mysme #unknown #saeran birthday #awawa writing this made me like unknown more #aaHhhhHH I'd ramble in the tags like I usually do but I gotta rush to get ready for something eheheh #I was gonna edit this last night but I was so tired AAAA #so I'm rushing this morning for his birthday I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT #andddDDd if you read this far #have a great day :>

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fragileizywriting · 3 years

Text

locker talk (chapter 2) is out now!

pairing: Luka / Marinette (Viperion / Multimouse) word count: 8,961 / 16,208 (in total) chapter: 2/3 rating: E summary: “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little lost. Did something happen at Uni, again?” “I’m peachy,” Multimouse wheezes, snapping back into focus. What was she even doing here, again? What was the point of showing up? She can’t even remember. Right. Right. Seduce him. Sort of. Or at least confess. Or at least get to kiss him again… “Perfectly peachy. Everything is so much wetter— better— now that I’m here. Nothing happened at school— I just— oh gooseberries.” Luka barks out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. She wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks.

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | You Are Here! | Chapter Three Link

Thank you so much for the love you've given me for this fic! I appreciate every single one of you so much 💕💕💕💕

The third chapter will be posted very soon!!!

She’s showered. She’s shaved. She’s gotten shampoo in her eye.

She hopes the redness isn’t noticeable.

Multimouse is many things— friendly, approachable, known as Paris’s sweetheart with many sweet bakery treats named after her using puns, such as Multi-feuille, or Multideleines— but they have no idea that she sits on top of the Liberty’s roof, wiggling her toes over the Seine, trying not to bite her lips raw at the thought of trying to seduce the guy she’s already had a feverish moment with.

It’s a soft night, with small dots of twinkling stars that burn and force their way through the light-polluted Parisian night, but she doesn’t mind how it’s dark enough out that no one can really see her unless they purposely go looking for her. She’s practically invisible, with the closest street lamp to her still being too far away for her to be illuminated by it. No one knows that she’s here— no one knows that she’s hiding in the shadows.

Quiet— quaint— small and hidden away like an actual mouse that sticks to the shadows so that she isn’t seen. She’s not sure if it’s Mullo’s instincts that coerce her to stick to the shadows or if it’s just her nerves.

After all— getting here, onto the Liberty, was half of the battle for her.

She’s never done this before. She’s never even considered this an option… how does she do this? She doesn’t even have a solid plan.

And Multimouse never not has a plan.

Even if she knows that Viperion— no, Luka— likes her, thinks about her sexually— she just can’t shake the feeling that her confession isn’t going to work out in her favor, that she’s going to walk away embarrassed and humiliated.

She can prepare and prepare again and over prepare for whatever she’s planning all she wants— but it’s the actual doing part that she usually gets stuck on. She can shower, she can shave, she can get shampoo in her eyes— she can text Juleka to maybe casually imply that she’s going to try to confess to her brother, not mentioning that she’s going to do it as her superhero identity instead of Marinette, and actually get Juleka to push everyone out of the house on one nice and evening Friday night— but none of that matters if she doesn’t actually get here.

She got here.

And now is dawdling on the next step— actually talking to him.

She has to try. Juleka had cleared the boat of stragglers in record time when she found out that she’d been planning on confessing to her brother— Multimouse seriously has no idea how the girl managed to get her mother off the boat, but she’s gone. It’s just him in there now. She’s grateful that she doesn’t have access to her nails to chew them through, because she’s shaking like a battery from how much her nerves consume her.

She plays with her necklace between her hands as she leans forward to put her elbows on her thighs, looking out to the water below— looking down at how the only open-blind window on the boat flickers with light as he passes next to it.

It sounds like he’s finished taking his shower— but all of it is really muffled, given that he lives in the equivalent of a metal can with sails— but either way, she stands up and starts to creep her way towards the front entrance of his house before she can convince herself that this is a bad idea and that she should turn around and book it and pretend that she never thought of this idea in the first place. Besides, it can’t be that bad of an idea, right?

This is a bad idea.

This is a very bad idea— oh— oh no.

She barely finishes knocking on the window next to the door before he pulls it open with a yelp and a curse spilling out of his lips, halfway through putting on his shirt. She stands there, transfixed, trying not to burst into flames as she catches the sight of toned and defined muscle from years of hard-earned wins against Hawkmoth disappear behind the widest shirt in existence with a heavy-metal band logo she’s never heard of, and how those muscles trail down and disappear into very low-riding sweatpants.

She knows he has muscles— she knows how big his arms are and that the pattern of his scales on his suit aren’t just to give the illusion of abs— because she’s seen him many times before with barely anything of a shirt on when the summer heat in Paris is too rough and everyone piles onto the Liberty to attempt to catch a draft.

She’s seen the way his back muscles move when he’s helping tear down stage sets for his band— she’s had many glass bottles of soda slip out of her hands at the sight of him naturally keeping up with Ivan and Kim’s strength— she’s seen all of it. Luka is nothing short of strong.

But now she knows just how it feels to have those same muscles pressed up against her. She might faint. “Uhm.”

“Hey! Sorry— I didn’t know you were going to come over tonight— you scared me with that knock. I thought I had the whole boat to myself.” Luka smiles at her, using his arm with the snake tattoo that wraps and coils around his forearm to pull out a couple necklaces of his own from underneath his shirt. Even though the shirt is wide, it seems to have a bit of a problem wrapping comfortably around his shoulders— and the neckline is wide enough to show his collarbones.

What does she even focus on? What does she want to look at the most?

“Sorry—” She blinks fast. Shirt. Chest. Arms. Sweatpants. Smile. Lips. Lips that bruised her neck so badly she had to keep her hair down for the entire week just to hide it from Alya’s enthusiastic gaze. Kissable lips. Lips she imagines all over her body all the time. Lips that— “S-sorry! Uhm. I’m just, uh— I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“I’m kidding, Mousey—” He’s all teeth when he smiles. She knows how those feel on her skin now, too— she knows how it feels to have him drag his mouth and lips all over her jaw— she has to lean against the door frame to stop herself from collapsing from how much she wants to feel it all over again. Her skin feels sensitive just at the thought. “I just got out of the shower and it was totally quiet out there. Really did think it was just going to be a quiet night by myself. Even mom’s out— probably went to go harass that last cop that gave her warning for the noise complaint. What do you think?”

Had he thought about her in the shower? He’s not flushed at all— nothing indicative of anything he had said inside the closet about how he’s always thinking of her— but Luka’s usually not one to lose his cool. It’s impossible to get a gauge out of his emotions when he hides it— something he’s incredibly good at when he’s Viperion. She’s shown up after his shower— presumably the time where he thinks about her in the most private way— and there’s absolutely nothing telling her that it’s true.

She never would’ve known if he hadn’t told her in the closet.

Assuming he even was telling the truth…

“Mousey?”

She snaps back into focus. “Oh! Right! Uhm— are you busy? D-do you want me to leave? Come back another time? When you’re not busy? Very busy?”

“Busy? Yeah, right,” He snorts good humoredly. “Busy on my laptop watching videos, probably. This place is an absolute bust when there’s no one here— you’re doing me a favor by being here.”

“S-so you don’t want me to leave?” She eeps. If he even makes one single implication that he doesn’t want her to show up, she’ll turn around and leave with no hesitation— her nerves are eating at her to the point where she’s ready to run anyways.

“No, of course not. Stay. Please.” He adjusts his necklaces to stop tangling with each other. They jingle when they hit together— a pleasant clinking noise on a pleasant night, but she’s busy taking in how shiny and pearlescent his arm is with the beautiful blue color on the coils of the snake’s body and how it matches the gold diamond shapes in strategic places. “You’re always welcome here, you know. I love it when you’re here.”

“Yep— yes. Totally.”

His hair is so much blacker and so much more bluer when it’s wet. She can’t stop staring at him, her mouth shaped into a circle, as he looks down at her with a shift in his brows when he’s stopped focusing on his necklaces. “You okay?”

“Wet.”

He blinks very slowly, speaking to her so softly, almost as if she’ll scamper off if he startles her. “Oh. Are you?”

“I meant— I meant your hair—” She squeaks, trying her best not to catch on fire from the way her cheeks heat and steam, waving her hands in the air, steaming harder when he laughs. “Sorry— oh my gooseberries I’m so sorry— that was so weird I didn’t mean to say that outloud, I mean, I just, I didn’t know you wash your hair at night— uhm— it just caught me by surprise!”

“Take a breath,” He smiles.

“Sorry,” She does.

“You need to work on your meditation again, you’re not focusing as well as you usually do.” He tilts his head with a wink. She tries her best not to follow the drops of water down his neck, down to where there’s a very obvious bruise on the side of his neck. Oh. Oh. She did that. She… she did that. She bit him. And grinded on him. And listened to him talk about how much he wanted to finger her— “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little lost. Something happen at Uni again?”

“I’m peachy,” She wheezes, snapping back into focus. What was she even doing here, again? What was the point of showing up? She can’t even remember. Right. Right. Seduce him. Sort of. Or at least confess. Or at least get to kiss him again… “Perfectly peachy. Everything is so much wetter— better— now that I’m here. Nothing happened at school— I just— oh gooseberries.”

He barks out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. She wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks. “Alright, let’s backtrack for a bit so you get your focus back. Do you not wash your hair at night?”

She’s so thankful for this man.

“My hair is too thick for that, I need to wash it in the mornings or it’ll never dry.” She ignores her voice crack. What is she doing, talking about hair care at his door, eyes missile-locked onto the bite mark on his neck? Why is she like this? “A-anyway! Sorry to— drop in on you— I know it’s really late— uhm— I just wanted to, uh— talk? To you? Maybe? But, again, it’s okay if you’re busy— watching videos is always really fun, isn’t it? I totally won’t mind—”

“You’re thinking too much, Mousey.” He grins. “It’s fine. I’ve never not wanted you here before, right? Let’s shut the door before someone sees you.”

As if Paris would believe anyone gossipping about Paris’s sweetheart dropping by a houseboat in the middle of the city, chatting up a man only a year older than her during the night time. She’s pretty sure that everyone is convinced that she’s perpetually stuck at the age of fifteen, instead of twenty four— always too small and too cinnamon roll and too pure to be sneaking into men’s houses, because that’s not what Multimouse does.

Sometimes being adored by millions and being put on a pedestal by this city is taxing. She doesn’t mind being considered sweet and friendly— but it’s exhausting to have to hear the slight infantilization the city ends up pushing on her. Maybe she should try cursing in public during a fight— see how many people she ends up disappointing.

She wonders if Luka hates being considered the silent, brooding type. He’s approachable— but most people on the internet and Alya’s commenters on the blog assume that he’s dark— mysterious— handsome and well spoken almost like a prince.

If only.

He has a mouth of a sailor. She’s seen him get coffee foam up his nose from laughter whenever she tries the aerial rope and continuously ends up failing. He doesn’t know how to swim, even though he lives on a boat— he writes so much music in his notebooks that his room is an absolute mess of paper that he tries to keep organized using folders and binders and sticking loose leafs of poetry on the walls.

The last time they watched a documentary about penguins, he’d cried the whole way through, talking about how he wishes he could help all the exhausted and freezing little chicks. Not to mention whenever there’s a documentary about rodents on the television, he ends up crying too, smothering her in hugs that makes her face burst into flames.

The comments did get it right about the handsome, though. Very handsome.

“A-are you sure?”

“Come on. I want you inside.”

She closes the door behind her, making sure that her tail isn’t snipped off on accident, trying not to loop the words come and I and want and you in her head. Even with all the nasty, absolutely dirty things he’s said to her already— somehow that manages to get her knees to almost buckle.

“So, uhm, is your family home? Juleka? Maybe?” Her voice is absolutely not this high! Get it together!

He blinks at her curiously, thinning his lips as he no-doubt tries to keep his laughter in. Luka’s always been a tease. “You know the answer to that, don’t you?”

Does he mean that he knows that Marinette was supposed to show up to his house? Oh, no. What has she done? Was it a bad idea telling Juleka to possibly go to Rose’s house, and maybe spend the night there, if all went well? How does she get out of this one? “W-well— I—”

“Best hearing in Paris, after all, right? You’d be able to hear if anyone else was on the boat with us.”

Duh. God, she feels like an idiot. “Y-yeah. I know. I just— I just wanted to know. To hear you say it, I mean.”

“Did you?” His face transforms into one full of humor, and she can do nothing but bite her lip raw at how handsome he is when his eyes crinkle in that boyish way of his. “What did you want to hear me say, Mousey?”

Anything. Everything. As long as he keeps talking, she’ll be miserable— but loving every moment of it, and he’ll have no idea because Luka doesn’t know that she knows he’s Viperion and thinks about his voice so often that she’s constantly balancing on a hair trigger.

“Uhm—” She taps her fingers along her thighs. “I— you know— I just wanted to hear you say that we’re alone.”

“Only that?” He hums, turning around to go probably drop off his towel back in the bathroom.

“Yes?” She’s never been so unsure before in her life, and she flounders as she follows him further into the boat, following him into his room just past the kitchen. “I mean yes obviously— why would I— need or want more— uhm— that would be— weird and definitely wouldn't make any contextual sense— I mean it’s not as if I—”

He pauses to look at her. She does her absolute best not to burst into flames. “You know, I’ve never realized it until now— you are absolutely one horny girl, little mouse. Dropping by and immediately asking me to start pillow talking you—”

She doesn’t even hear him, bouncing on the balls of her boots, squeaking a floorboard that is always loose no matter how much the Couffaines try to glue or hammer it down. She’s certain she’s watched them rip out just to put back a new floorboard— and yet it still continues to squeak. “That’s not true! That’s totally not true I’m— you know— I’m just—”

“Yes?”

“It’s just that your voice is melodical— it’s so soothing and you know I have anxiety and things but being able to hear your voice always makes me calm down— it’s so nice to just— just relax— and let someone else think of things for me—”

“Breathe, Mousey.”

“Thank you.” She gasps in air, proving his point for him.

His eyes shine with something as she sucks in her breaths. “How long have you been waiting for me to pull you inside and take care of you?”

She whines, crossing her arms. “You’re being totally unfair right now, Luka, you can’t just start talking dirty to me—”

He laughs, pulling open the door to his room. “I’m not talking dirty to you, not yet.”

“And just assume that I’ll listen—”

He pauses again to look at her, and it’s enough to make her bite her lip by how absolutely jaw-dropping he looks. “Oh, you won’t? And here I thought that’s what you wanted. Is that not what you wanted?”

“What do you—”

His eyelashes are black smudges against his cheeks as his gaze drops to her lips when he brushes her jaw with the back of his hand. “Do you not want me to take care of you in the way you want? Do you not want me to tell you all of the filthiest things you want to hear?”

“Gooseberries you have no idea how much I’ll listen if you do because I will— I promise you I will— I mean I’ll do anything as long as you keep talking— I promise— I’ll be good for you, I promise—” She almost smacks her forehead in an attempt to stop squeaking out her words, instead choosing to nearly rub her cheeks raw with her gloves.

Gentle and giant hands reach for her wrists with such slowness it almost boarders asinine. “Hey. Don’t hurt yourself— that looks like it hurts.”

She drops her hands from her face without question, letting him pet and smooth away the redness from her skin. “But— I— come on, I have to focus first! At least let me try to say what I came here to say, don’t just immediately flip the script back on me!”

He turns to walk into his room, leaving her standing there, looking around and wondering if that was an invitation to start talking. He’s cleaned his room a bit— there’s no laundry on the floor this time— but his room still continues to look like a snake’s den from how cluttered it is.

He sits down comfortably in that pouf chair of his, the one she’s always wondered how it fit through the front door. Maybe they floated it in through the window, she’s not sure. It’s massive— huge— full of stuffing and fun to sit on whenever she’s here for a party and is starting to feel drunk, or here to goof off in his presence whenever it’s just the two of them and she has nothing better to do. It’s close enough to Luka’s bed that it feels like a challenge, for her, and she always feels victorious whenever she manages to convince herself to sit there.

“How long have you known, Mull?”

“K-known what?” She freezes at the doorframe, finally realizing what’s happened when he simply spins the leather strap of his miraculous on his wrist, looking at her with raised brows. “Uhm.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh oh. Oh no. Oh no. How did you—”

“I don’t think you make it a habit of begging any man you come across, unless you know who they are already.”

“I— yes— only you, Luka. I’ve only begged for you.” She nods very slowly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” Some form of a thought twinkles in his eyes as he says it. “Not yet, at least. Don’t freak out, it’s okay that you know. I kind of figured you knew. It’s okay.”

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

“But—” She gestures around. “How?”

He tilts his head, looking at her with such a curious face. “Intuition, I guess. Or maybe paranoia. Hey, have you known for longer than a year?”

“Ah—” She shifts on her feet. “No. Sort of. I kinda was guessing it, but— I mean— I got genuine confirmation about a month ago.”

“Have you been showing up because you knew?”

“No, no. I didn’t know when I first started showing up— I’ve been showing up because I really like you— you as in Luka, that is. And then I found Sass playing hide and seek with Mullo when I went to the bathroom, and, well I totally didn’t know what to do when I found out that you were actually in fact my partner— and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you and by then I— I had already— fallen in— uhm— with you on both sides—”

This takes him by surprise. “You’ve been here detransformed?”

She pinches her eyes shut. “Uhm—”

“We know each other, don’t we?” He exhales. “That— I mean— that does make sense. You are always so conveniently close by whenever there’s an Akuma that attacks the Liberty— and only god fucking knows why it’s always the Liberty. You’d think my mom would learn after a while to stop picking fights with the cops. Or the government in general. This place is a breeding ground for Akumas— Hawkmoth is one day just going to set up camp around here, I think.”

He taps at his jaw as he thinks. No doubt he’s trying to place her as one of his friends— or maybe his sister’s.

“It’s a good thing Couffaines know how to party, right?” She eeps into the silence, trying not to bolt for the door. Would he try following her? Would he grab her and pin her down so she can’t try to give up from how embarrassed she is? Would he let her go? She’d be far too easy to catch, if he did go after her— she’s weak at the knees at the idea of being in his arms again. “I mean— It’s always so much fun being here but I understand if you don’t want me to— to show up— anymore— and—”

“Little mouse, I hope you know I’m not mad. I can’t be mad at you.” Those six little words makes her legs weak by how thankful she is. She could weep— already starting to feel how her eyes water at the words. “I’d never be mad at you for knowing. I just— I wish I knew sooner, too.”

“I didn’t know what to do—” She hunches her shoulders, trying her absolute best not to curl in on herself but not having too much of a say in it as her body goes through the motions on its own. “I couldn’t just stop showing up, cause then you’d suspect it—”

“It would’ve been okay if you had told me, just like there’s nothing wrong with you telling me now.” He extends out his arm, asking for her hand.

She hides her face in her gloves. “I’m sorry. I really, really am sorry, Luka— I really f-fucked up.”

“No you didn’t.”

Those words fill her stomach with butterflies, stopping her from forming any more tears. “I— I didn’t?”

“Of course not, Mull. It’s okay.”

“But I—”

“It’s alright— I know why you didn’t tell me— it’s okay. I’m not upset at you— I’m not disappointed.” He gives her a smile. “Come here. You look like you’re about to cry— I don’t want you to cry.”

She crosses into his room, making sure to step over the scattered amps and repeaters— his guitar case, too— willingly reaching for his hand by giving him four of her fingers. His smile widens when she makes contact with his hands— his fingernails nearly as black as her suit.

His thumb rubs against the hexleather that wraps around her knuckles, and she tries her best not to sound so needy when she drops to her knees so they can be at a better height with each other. She doesn’t like it when she’s taller, so she fits between the opening of his legs just enough so she can place her forearm on his thighs, looking up at him with what she hopes is a thankful smile, even as her eyesight wavers.

“Congratulations on saying your first curse word,” He pets underneath her eyes with a laugh. She can’t feel it, because of the domino mask, but it’s comforting enough to her that her eyes squint at the sensation. “I never thought I’d be the one to hear it first.”

“I’ve cursed before,” Her smile twitches as she tries not to giggle despite the tears that collect at the sides of her eyes. “I just don’t make it a habit.”

“Oh yeah? What other curse words have you said?”

“I think I’ve said ‘ass’ before.” She has to think about it, much to his amusement. “Well. If I hadn’t before, I guess I have now.”

His laughter consumes him. “What a milestone.”

“You’ve been many of my firsts,” She smiles with him. “Maybe hopefully all of them can be with you, too?”

His face blossoms in color— she’s never seen him caught so off guard before. Maybe he isn’t as cool and collected as she’s always thought— maybe he does actually get satisfaction when she says what’s on her mind about how she’s wanting to have everything with him. “God, who are you, Mull? Who’s the girl of my dreams who keeps telling me she wants everything I can give her? Is it even a good idea to tell me?”

“You can know,” She nods, shivering as he brushes her jawline with his black nails and back of his palm. She likes these gentle touches— she likes the way it feels to have such a loving hand on her. “It’s only fair.”

“Hmmm, no. I want you to tell me if you want to tell me.” His eyes narrow at her. “Don’t tell me just to even the playing field. If you want to remain anonymous, I don’t mind.”

It always worries her at how plain kind and loyal he is. He would be completely right if he decided to kick her out— or to turn her away— but instead of any anger or resentment he’s simply there.

He’s always there for her— always making sure that she’s okay. If she’s eaten. If she’s going to get home safely, when the Akuma attacks are at night. It’s hard not to fall in love with a man who cares about her in the way he does. He’s always been a nurturing man— he’s never hard on her, even when he has the right to be.

Well. He’s only hard on her when they’re stuck in a closet together.

“You don’t?”

“Okay, maybe that’s a bit of a lie,” Luka smiles as he looks down at her. His sweatpants are soft against her cheek as she continues to blink slowly up at him, trying not to purse her lips in want. “I’m very curious about who you are, Mousey. I’ve always wondered who’s the girl underneath— I’ve known you since we were fifteen. Of course I want to know more about the girl who takes up so much of my notebooks.”

“I don’t mind you knowing.” She eeps.

“You don’t?”

“No— not at all! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, really, Luka. Our friends kept telling me to try asking you out— god, Jules especially, but I— I really couldn’t do any of it, I kept chickening out.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“And then I found out that it’s so much easier to talk to you when I’m in the suit— so I— I kept trying to get the courage to ask you out in the suit and then I found out that you’re Viperion and I just didn’t know how to handle it— so I just— and then the closet— and I made up my mind to tell you— you— today about my feelings. Pretty sure your sister was going to fillet me alive if I texted her saying I couldn’t do it. ”

Something clicks in his head, she can see it. “Marinette.”

“Well, yeah, I mean I could’ve tried as myself but I mean I don’t have any faith in myself at all—” She almost bites her tongue. “What?”

“Marinette?” He tilts his head. “The only person I know that could be your height— could be your size— and a girl I’ve barely been able to get a couple of sentences out of.”

“Hi.” Multimouse says, trying to swallow, but somehow not being able to. “Yes. That’s me?”

“Hi,” His smile softens. “That makes sense, you know. Juleka even thought that the hickey on my neck was from you when she saw it, and I didn’t understand why.”

How mortifying. “S-she did?”

“Oh. Oh. That’s why you ended up in my bed that one night, isn’t it? Because you like me and you were too drunk to stop wanting to cuddle?”

She worries her lip between her teeth. His gaze drops to watch her chew her bottom lip almost raw. “Oh. Yes— that’s— uhm. Please don’t hate me— I’m sorry— your bed has always looked so comfortable— and I really wanted to sleep next to you—”

“Take a breath, Mari.” His eyes glitter when she sucks in a breath on command. She would feel embarrassed by how easy it is for her to comply, but all she feels is warmth that starts to coil in between her legs whenever he tells her to do something. “It’s okay. I’m so happy it’s you.”

“You are? You don’t hate me?”

“Absolutely don’t hate you. I’d never be able to hate you— how could I hate you?”

“No?”

“Never.”

“Not even if I got us stuck in a closet together for an hour—”

“Definitely not then, either.” He grins. “Fuck, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that. About you.”

“M-me neither,” She confesses easily, trying not to shift too much between his legs. “I— I’ve been wanting— uhm—”

“Ah, yes. That. You can say it, can’t you?” He leans forward so that she has to lean back in order to not get her face shoved into his chest from the angle. “Can you say it for me? I want to hear you say it, if you’re willing.”

She cranes her neck up to look at him square in the eyes, still sitting on her folded knees and calves, looking at the way his mouth quirks to the side as he licks his teeth. His necklaces dangle— jingle like dog tags between them— hitting her lightly on the collarbone but with just enough pressure to make her make a noise that sounds like an unf. “I— uhm— I’ve been wanting more. Ever since we did it in the closet.”

He almost looks surprised at her admission. “Good job, Mull.”

She feels a little brave. “I want to— if you’re willing— spend the night with you. Please.”

He groans. “Of course I want to spend the night with you. Every night. Keep you here in my room for weeks— you don’t have to ask if I’m willing— but it’s nice to hear it. It always reminds me at how good of a person you are.”

Warmth explodes on her cheeks as she blushes. “I’ve— I’m— I have to ask.”

“I know.”

“I know that I’m the one that is always so shy and timid— but— you deserve to have your boundaries respected too, Luka.”

“I think I like this better than when you call me Vai,” He laughs. He kisses her on the cheek— below the eyelids— where the lip of her domino mask meets skin— missing her mouth entirely even as she turns to try to meet him. She tries not to whine as she grips the fabric that bunches at his knees. “Not that the nickname isn’t good— it’s perfect— but you don’t understand just how many times I jack off while thinking about you calling me by my real name, Mousinette.”

She squeaks at the nickname, trying not to blossom into a full-body red. “I— how many times?”

“Every night,” He says simply, like he’s relaying the weather. He has no idea how his words burn in her core— why her tail becomes so agitated, even if it’s only half sentient— why exactly she gasps as she feels a sharp zing that settles between her legs. “I’m so glad that Marinette ended up being the little mouse I think about every night.”

“Every—?”

“Imagine my surprise, getting out of a shower after thinking about nothing but you and all the noises you made in my ear and seeing you stand there in front of my door.” He grins against her skin. Will he bite her? Snatch her and keep her? Use her as nothing but a bed warmer? “Fuck, Mousey. If I hadn’t been debating on whether or not you knew I would’ve dragged you into my room and onto my bed without even saying hello.”

“Please. Please.” She swallows, the idea of never leaving his burrow almost making her want to pounce on him. “I want that.”

“It’s getting harder and harder to stop thinking about you when you’re gone.”

“W-why?”

“You don’t think I can forget about you after that wonderful performance you gave me, do you?” Even when not transformed, and he doesn’t have any fangs, his teeth graze along her skin in a way that makes her toes twitch in her boots. She shivers as he follows her neck up to the patch of skin behind the ear, nosing into the sensitive area to the point where she pants. “I’ll be honest, I came home that night wanting more.”

“I— I can— give you more,” She tilts her head to the side, letting him kiss and suck bruises into her skin. She bruises like a peach, usually, and for the second time in her life she’s so thankful for how pale her skin is. “S-so much more.”

“Can you?”

“Please— I can give you anything you’d like, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it—”

“Within reason, of course.”

“Within reason,” She parrots, but more out of politeness than anything else. It’s only fair for her to agree— she obviously doesn’t want to be uncomfortable throughout any of this— but her list of potential no’s is definitely dwindling as the nights go on and she is subjected to fantasy after fantasy of what she wants him to do with her. To her. The preposition isn’t important anymore. She wants it all. “But I’d do anything for you, Luka. I— I may not have done much— any— at all before, but I want to. I trust you not to do anything damaging, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No— of course not. I wouldn’t dream of putting you through pain.”

Something cold whooshes in her stomach. “N-no?”

“I’m not a brute, you know— you deserve something gentle— I want to be gentle with you— I’m still worried you’re afraid of me. Besides, I don’t like the idea of hurting you in general, it wouldn’t feel right.”

“No? Not… even a little tiny smidge? Maybe?” She squeaks out that last part, feeling self conscious about the way he pauses. There’s a question forming, she can tell by the way his brows pinch together— she bites her lip to stop herself from making a noise.

His gaze drops to her lips, and instead of responding to what she’s proposed, he whispers out: “Don’t hurt yourself, Mousey.”

He kisses her. Hard— almost painful, ironically— with the way he clicks their teeth together as she whines. He slides his hand to keep it at the back of her neck, kissing her in the same way they had in the closet. There’s a pull at her wrist, and an arm snaking underneath her shoulder, and she finds herself being deposited onto his lap.

Oh, she’s missed this.

Sweet gooseberries. She can already feel how stiff he’s starting to get in these criminally low sweatpants of his— and she hasn’t even done anything besides kiss him a bit and just tell him how she really feels. The man underneath her is honest, and never would be able to lie to her about his feelings— he really is enjoying this.

She wants him to enjoy everything.

Everything.

“What kind of hurt are you into, Mousinette?” He hums. His voice feels like pure ecstasy in her veins as he rumbles out his words, and she nearly loses feeling in the very same legs that prop her up when gives her a swat on her ass, causing her to gasp. The impact is lessened by the properties of her hexleather— but it’s enough to make her face flush and lashes flutter. “Oh. Oh. So you mean that kind?”

“Luka—”

“You’ve never done anything and yet you already know that you like getting spanked. Incredible, little mouse— do you practice on yourself with the things you like?”

She nods. “I’ve only been able to— to try out things on myself, but, yes— I know a lot about what I like— and— and don’t, by trial and— error—”

“Fuck that’s hot. Just how far do your fantasies go, I wonder?” He laughs. “Tell me, please. I want to know all of it— you know, I never got to hear what you think about when you’re fingering yourself— even though you promised.”

“I did. You’re right— I really did. But maybe later, we have other things to do—” She tries kissing him again, but he tilts his head enough so that she ends up kissing the corner of his mouth, and she whines. “Luka, please— I want—”

“I can’t do what you want if you don’t tell me what it is,” He mouths against her jaw. “Please tell me. What was the last idea you fingered yourself to?”

“I thought about how I want you to pin me down—” Her breath hitches when he follows the curve of her spine with his fingers. “I thought about how I want— I need— you to bend me over— and— and take off my clothes— I can be totally naked for you and you can wear every single piece of clothing on you, I promise it’s okay— let me be yours, Luka—”

He hisses. “Shit, Mousey. Where do you want me to fuck you?”

“On your bed— your kitchen table—” She scrambles to come up with answers as he continues to move his fingers up and down her back, petting her so gently it almost feels like a tease. “Outside, too, o-on the— on the deck—”

“Oh, you liked the outside idea, didn’t you?”

“Yes— yes—”

“What do you want me to do to you?” At her whining and begging, he smiles at her with such gentility she feels like she’s melting. “Please. Please tell me.”

She whooshes air out of her lungs. “I want you to finger me like you said you would— finger me until I come three times.”

“Four, Mousey.” He amends. “I won’t be satisfied until you’re gushing all over my fingers. I’ll make a fucking mess out of you.”

“F-four.” She parrots, feeling her eyesight go hazy at the idea. She hears her tail hit something— probably the side of his bed— but she can’t focus enough to pay attention to it. “Eat— eat me out, too. Please. Uhm. M-maybe finger me and— and maybe suck my— my clit at the same time.”

She has to pause so that he can kiss her, coaxing her tongue into his mouth. He sucks on her tongue like he’s trying to prove something to her— she’s not sure what— but regardless of whatever it is, it’s enough for her to whine and pant, gripping his wet strands of hair between her fingers to stop herself from rubbing herself all over his chest and abs.

“You’d do this all outside on the deck of the Liberty?” He hums when he breaks away, licking the bridge of saliva that formed between their mouths.

“More than just that, but, yes—”

He gives a noise of approval that makes her wetter. “What do you think Paris would say if they ever caught a glance of Viperion breeding Multimouse on rooftops across the city, or finding out that you beg for it and don’t stop begging until you’re satisfied? Do you think they would be upset with you because you weren’t behaving like the proper princess everyone thinks you are?”

She wants it. She wants it so badly. The idea is so tantalizing that she can feel that low buzz of an incoming dry-orgasm, never even touched— never even fingered. Oh, how this man is everything she’s ever wanted. Just being able to sit in his lap is enough to get her to want to stain her suit.

“I don’t care,” She breathes, and she really does shift, then, her knees not being able to handle holding her up in any way any longer. She sits on his thighs, her legs spread wide so that they can go over his— everything about him is massive and so much bigger than her. “Anywhere— anywhere you decide on taking me, Luka— I want to do it anywhere you want to, I don’t care if people find out that I’m not their sweetheart— that I’m not their sweet little angel saving the city—”

“Oh, you’re all of that for sure— you just happen to be one horny little mouse, too.” He laughs against her mouth when she moans and grinds her sex against one of his thighs like she knows how to do. Sparks of color bleed against the back of her lids as she chases the orgasm that continues to build and build and build.

He shifts his leg, giving her a better angle. There’s a gasp trying to spill out of her mouth— heat curling between her legs as she continues to rub herself almost painfully hard on the thick muscle that makes up his thigh— trying not to exhaust herself as she rubs and rubs and rubs and— “Luka? Please?”

“Are you asking me permission to come?” He says it like he doesn’t believe her, looking at her with almost an awed look to his face.

“Please,” She repeats, nodding her head hard enough for it to hurt.

“Alright,” He whispers. “You can do it. Come for me without me even touching you— go on.”

She does.

He tightens his grip on her waist and the curve of her spine as she places her forehead down on his shoulder, riding wave after wave of heat that washes over her. Her legs feel like liquid— the space between her thighs even more so. She’s completely and totally doused in a fever that almost makes it claustrophobic to stay in her suit.

“That’s it,” He kisses her ear— her temple— whatever’s closest to him on the side of her face. “Good job, Mousinette. Very good job. You did so well—”

“Luka—” She sighs, trying not to accidentally crush the charms on his necklaces with her fist as she grips them with a hand, trying to get her strength back. “Luka, I want more.”

There’s a bit of an edge to his voice, “Oh, do you? Are you unsatisfied?”

“No— not unsatisfied— I want more. I just want you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” He laughs. His voice feels like satin on her sensitive skin. “Not that watching you wasn’t good— I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit in this chair ever again without thinking of you fucking my leg. That was fucking hot, Mousey.”

“Sorry—” She doesn’t really mean it, feeling like she’s on the edge of her seat, even as her body continues to slow down and fill her with good emotions, making her feel as viscous as honey as she curls in his lap. “I’m so sorry— I just— I need— more— Luka— one isn’t enough— I need you—”

“Detransform for me so we can do exactly that, Mousey.” His eyes look dark, pupils blown wide open as he smiles. “Let me fuck you.”

She’s never nodded harder in her life. She calls off her transformation, the necklace that rests on her chest glowing before unleashing her kwami. Mullo blinks wide at the sight of the two of them in an obviously precarious position— the little mouse kwami grinning wide as the suit is done unstitching from Marinette’s body, leaving her in her clothes she wore before leaving her house, her hair falling against her ears and down her back. “You confessed? You confessed! You actually did it!”

“Lolo—” She mumbles into Luka’s collarbone, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. “Come on. Don’t embarrass me.”

“Oh— but— I’m so happy, Princess! I can’t believe you did it! You spent so long freaking out in your room I thought I was going to have to force a transformation on you!”

“Lolo!”

“Hi, Mullo. Sass is upstairs, I think, probably near the sails.” Luka grins, cutting Marinette off with a hand to her mouth before she can continue responding. She squeaks behind his hand— how the rings on his hands feel cold against her skin. “No doubt trying to cover his ears from the noise.”

“A sensitive one to sound, isn’t he?” Mullo winks, giggling behind her paws. “Well, well, you know what to call out if you need us! Try not to be too loud for Sass’s sake, okay?”

Luka makes her lean back from his lap when Mullo disappears through the ceiling. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She whispers back, muffled by the hand that covers her giggles.

“So. You really are the girl of my dreams and fantasies, huh?” There’s a tilt to his head as he says it, looking her over appreciatively. “Give me a second to look at you— I can’t believe I missed all the obvious signs of you being the girl I love.”

Something flatlines in her head. “D-dreams?”

“And fantasies,” He adds, shifting her in his lap with a laugh. “Come on, little mouse. You already know that. You can definitely feel it, too. I’m not lying when I said all I can think about is fucking you.”

“I— I know. I did just spend— I totally just grinded on you until I came, but I mean— it’s— it’s a little harder to believe— when I’m not—” She’s blushing, finally able to feel just how exactly stiff he is in his pants— she cuts herself off with a needy whine. “Oh, gooseberries, I’m sorry, Luka— you know I stutter a lot when I’m very shy.”

He kisses his palm over where her mouth is. “It’s okay. You’re doing okay— great, actually. There’s nothing to be shy or afraid of, Mousinette, even if you’re willingly walking into a snake’s den while being this cute.”

She giggles.

“You really do need to get out of your boat more often, Luka,” She pouts behind his hand. “You’re going to spend so much time on this boat that you’re going to end up landsick if you ever get off of it.”

His eyes drop to her shirt, a teasing look on his face. “Well, if that was your goal for tonight, I’m sorry— I have other plans involving you. You smell so good— are you wearing the perfume that I said I liked on you?”

“I might be.” An impulse buy for sure at the makeup store, but worth every single cent with the way he looks at her now. Ever since she’d worn it that first time and Luka had complimented it in passing when hauling a subwoofer the size of Rose’s full height outside to the deck of the Liberty, she’d known that she’d wear it every day of her life if it meant to get him to look at her for even a smidge longer. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did. You always smell expensive when you have it on— you went stiff as a board the first time I complimented you. I thought I broke you, and I didn’t get why Jules just kept laughing when you ran off to go help Kagami with the banner— I understand why now.” He laughs. “So, what are you wearing, then? If you went through the hassle of smelling good…”

It’s a shame he can’t see the smile she gives him, a shy and teasing quirk of her lips. “Just my pajamas.”

“Uh huh. I don’t believe you, you’ve got something up your sleeve, I know that look in your eye. Show me what you’re wearing,” He doesn’t pull his hand away from her mouth, and quirks his lips to produce yet another boyish smile when she kisses his palm. “It doesn’t look like you’re wearing anything under that shirt, little mouse.”

“I have something under it,” She mumbles under his palm, but it doesn’t come across well enough.

He takes in the wide shoulders of her shirt— how she’s absolutely swimming in the sleeves that end up at her elbows. She can tell the moment he recognizes the band shirt’s logo on her shirt— a fun and edgy screen-printed design with neon blues and neon pinks with the word kitty section below a logo— because his breath stops.

“Oh, shit—” He uses his free hand to hold her at the rib cage, pressing his thumb inwards, presumably trying to find the band of her bra that she’s potentially wearing— he almost seems to relax when his fingertips finds the wire. “Marinette, I like this.”

She preens under his words, sitting in his lap at a better angle to let him continue petting her heavily under her bust, thumbing at the wire under her breasts. “Oh. Do you really?”

“Fuck— I can’t believe this— this is such a turn-on. As if I needed to get any harder. Whose shirt is this?”

“I don’t know,” She tries to stay still in his lap to no avail when he moves his palm so that he can pet at her lips with a thumb. She melts in his touch, how each touch feels like heaven and soft. “It was one of the leftovers of the first batch we made, I’m pretty sure. I’ve kept it for years.”

“Really?”

“I like sleeping with it,” She tilts her head to the side, letting her hair fall behind her shoulder. The shirt is soft— comfortable— it’s gotten a very lived-in feel to the fabric after the long years of gentle care. She hand washes it to make sure that none of the colors chip away. “Makes me feel comfortable, thinking I’m with you. I— uhm— I—”

“Don’t hesitate, little mouse,” He smiles easy. “You’ve been doing so well already.”

“E-ever since I found it, I’ve been pretending it’s yours,” She tries not to steam red at her confession. She’s grinded on him in a closet, grinded on his leg mere minutes ago, begged for him to fuck her— and yet she still feels embarassed to admit this, too?

Well, to be fair, it is his band’s shirt. After all, what kind of a— best friend? Lover? Budding-relationship partner?— is she, if she doesn’t support his band with all their friends? Even if she didn’t have any romantic or sexual feelings for the man who continues to blink wide at the sight of her in the shirt, she’d still keep the merchandise for sentimental values. It’s one of the few originals— a homemade shirt that they had bought in a batch so that they could at least have merch to sell.

Every time they leave for a tour, now that they’re much better in terms of fame, she keeps it close to her. She nuzzles into the fabric, dreaming that it’s actually him in her arms and him in her cunt as she masturbates to the thought of him, wishing she was in his hotel room across the hall instead of hers.

His face turns pink. “Have you?”

She blinks at the way he seems to turn pinker and pinker the more he continues to look at her. Is that— is he blushing from the idea of her wearing his clothes? “Uhm— I— I mean I obviously don’t have any of your shirts for real, but, it’s nice to pretend—”

“You now have free reign of my closet whenever and wherever.” He almost twitches underneath her. “Please wear my actual shirts anytime you want, little mouse, holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. I’ll start begging if you need convincing— god.”

“Y-you don’t need to do that.” She laughs.

His smile curls dark. “You’re right. Your begging is much prettier than mine.”

She nearly jumps when his hand at the top of her shirt smoothes down her spine, teasing the hem of the shirt, making her shiver from how gentle he is. “I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear.”

“What’s underneath?” He asks, his eyes glittering with a tease that she can read he’ll come back to her request later. “Do you want to show me?”

She nods, giving his thumb a kiss. “Maybe just a peek. I h-have something I want to do, too— i-if you’re interested?”

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | You Are Here! | Chapter Three Link

#lukanette #fragileizyfic #fragileizyoneshot #vipermouse

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Parenting

Steve x reader x Bucky x Tony

Spiderman was Peter Parker. Peter Parker was only fourteen. Tony had found videos of Spidermans earlier days and had made it his goal to find out who the hero was.

It had taken him a week, a week in which he refused to sleep, but he did find out Spiderman's identity.

He'd tracked down Spiderman's identity to a then thirteen-year-old Peter Parker. Tony, being the secret dad he'd always been, had offered to help the spider boy with his powers and trick him out with a new suit.

Everyone on the team could fondly remember Peter's first visit to the Tower. The boy, who was quite small for his age, was looking at everyone and everything with wide eyes and taking everything in eagerly.

You were all for the kid learning how to defend himself and how to understand his powers better.

Bucky enjoyed being around the kid because he never once made him feel poorly about his metal appendage.

Steve was on the fence. A part of him liked being around the kid, and Steve couldn't stand the idea of this kid not knowing how to defend himself properly. But Peter was thirteen. Steve wanted the kid to be a kid.

It was only after being around the young genius for a week that Steve backed off on the too young argument. That boy was wiser than his years and had been through more than any other kid his age.

Peter had been training with the Avengers for a year when his world shattered. May Parker had been in a hit and run and had not survived.

Tony had refused to let this kid go into the system and had filed all the paperwork immediately to get him, and the three of you registered as his guardians.

Peter shut himself away for a while during his grieving process. In his mind, he was alone, but the four of you refused to allow him to continue thinking that.

The four of you always made sure that Peter knew you were there, constantly made sure he knew you cared about him, and after a couple of months, Peter accepted this fact.

He was just a kid, but he was your kid.

"Morning, Pete," You smiled at the child as you placed a jug of milk on the table.

"Morning, kiddo." Tony greeted, flipping a pancake onto a stack next to the stove.

"Morning Y/N, morning Tony." Peter yawned, stumbling into the nearest chair.

"Someone looks like they need more sleep." You smirked, taking the pancakes over to the table.

"I stayed up all night to finish my English assignment." Peter groaned, hitting his head on the table.

"Don't dent your head." You said as Tony told him,

"Don't dent the table."

"Okay, moms." Peter snarked, slowly raising his head and leaning back in the chair.

"Eat." You ordered, putting a large plate in front of him. "Spider kids with enhanced metabolisms need as much as super soldiers. Especially ones who stayed up all night."

"Are Bucky and Steve still on their run?" Peter asked between large mouthfuls.

"Chew your food, Underoos," Tony told him, placing a plate in front of you. "It's not going anywhere."

"They should be back soon." You assured the teenager, leaning up to kiss Tony in thanks.

"According to my calculations, they should be back in five, four, three, two, one." Tony counted down and then pointed to the elevator doors, which didn't open.

"And you're incorrect. Must be your old age." You teased, causing Peter to laugh and Tony to scowl.

"That's it, no more pancakes," Tony said, reaching forward to take your plate.

"No. Not my pancakes. I love you." You said, pulling the plate away from him and kissing the man.

"There is a child present, you two," Bucky said as he and Steve entered the floor. "I thought we agreed to keep those activities in the bedroom."

"Gross." Peter coughed, refusing to look up from his pancakes.

"Only when the kid's home," Tony smirked, pulling away from you and turning to the two.

"He's kidding." You assured the teen as Steve sat next to you. "Good run, hon?"

"Good run." He confirmed, kissing your cheek. "Though I'd prefer to stay in bed with the two of you."

"Did Bucky and Sam make it a competition again?" Peter asked, passing Steve his box of old person cereal.

"Sam started it." Bucky pointed out as he poured himself a coffee. "I just finished it."

"Good for you, babe." Tony smiled, kissing him and handing over a stack of pancakes as large as Peter's. "Take that to Steve."

"Pete, don't you have to get going soon?" Steve asked, glancing at the clock.

"Oh shit." The teen cursed, hurrying to finish his food.

"Language." Tony reprimanded with a smirk.

"Relax, Pete, I'm driving you. You'll get there on time." You said, causing the spider to choke on his food.

"Are you sure? Because I could walk." He stuttered as Tony and Bucky snickered.

"I am a good driver." You narrowed your eyes.

"You learned from your sister, doll. Not the best instructor you could have had." Bucky said, patting your hand gently.

"I'm telling Nat you said that." You told him. "I'm a great driver, now hurry up and finish your breakfast. You have Spanish first up." You said, standing from the table and kissing Steve's cheek.

"Why does he get a kiss?" Bucky whined as you prepared to leave.

"He didn't laugh at my driving." You smirked as Peter joined you. "I'll be back. I love you!"

"Love you too. Have a good day at school, Pete." The three replied.

"You're hogging all the blankets, Steve," Tony whined, pulling the thick blanket towards him.

"Now, I don't have any blanket." Steve sighed. "Buck, can you bring the comforter out here, please?"

"I have Y/N, and Pete curled up with me. We need a lot of blankets." Tony said, throwing his arm around Peter as you burrowed further into his side.

"Don't worry, Stevie. You can cuddle with me." Bucky announced, entering with the comforter in hand. "Once I get the snacks." He said before moving back to the kitchen.

"You better not be bringing back any of that black licorice crap." You called, continuing to watch the screen as Peter flicked through movies.

"No-one is making you eat it, kitten," Bucky said as he reentered, balancing bowls of snacks in both hands.

"No I'm with Y/N on this. It's gross." Peter piped up, staring disdainfully at the bowl in Bucky's hands.

"Don't make me take you out of my will." Bucky mock narrowed his eyes as he curled up with Steve.

"You'll still be in mine, Spider-baby." You said, reaching over Tony and taking his hand.

"Everyone knows the only movie snack is popcorn," Tony said, pulling the bowl onto his lap.

"Say that to my M&M's." You snorted as Peter grabbed a handful of the chocolate.

"Steve, who's side are you on?" Peter asked the blonde.

"I like both, but I prefer Doritos." Steve shrugged as you, Bucky, and Peter all descended into laughter. "What did I say?"

"Nothing, honey." You shook your head. "Just something Peter showed us a while ago."

"I'm getting worried about the three of you on the internet." Tony shook his head. "Underoos, you better not be choosing Star Wars again."

"I already promised I wouldn't." Peter raised his free hand in innocence. "Bucky said he has not seen Batman I'm changing that." He said, clicking on his desired movie.

“Thanks, kiddo.” Bucky smiled.

Non-reader POV

After watching three Batman movies, the night had turned into day and the group of five were all in varying states. Peter was fast asleep, drooling on Tony’s shoulder, Y/N rested her head on the billionaires other shoulder, said billionaire was half asleep, arms wrapped around both people, and only Bucky and Steve were coherent enough to make a decision.

“Do we move back to bed?” Steve whispered to the brunette.

“Nah, better not risk it.” Bucky shook his head, grinning at the sight of his family.

“We should probably lay them down properly.” Steve suggested, getting a nod in return.

Both men slowly moved over to the three and began to gently lay them down.

“Go back to sleep, bud.” Bucky whispered as Peter’s eyes blearily opened as he Steve moved the boy.

“’Kay, ‘ight, dads.” Peter mumbled, closing his eyes and falling back to sleep. Both Steve and Bucky froze at the name but smiled after a second.

“Night, kiddo.”

Reader POV

“Okay we’re here! Christmas can start!” Tony announced, entering the living room with a sleepy Peter.

As Tony had announced, Christmas had come. It was your fifth Christmas as a closed poly group but it was your first Christmas with Peter. Peter had been with the four of you for almost a year and a half now.

The four of you had spent months plotting and planning the entire day out to make it the best for your spiderson. If not to show your love but to distract him from his grief.

“Why did we have to get up at five again?” You asked as Bucky handed you a coffee. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Because it Christmas you grouch!” Tony said, sitting on the floor next to Steve. “Present time!”

“How much coffee have you had, Tony?” Peter groaned, sitting next to Bucky who wrapped an arm around him.

“Would you believe me if I said none?” Tony asked, playing the role of Santa and handing out presents.

“Are any of the other Avengers going to join us?” Peter asked, looking between you all.

“Later they will. Bruce and Nat didn’t want to get up at five and Clint’s bringing his family and Wanda at around three.” You told him with a smile.

“Besides you don’t want to wake Bruce or Nat without warning.” Bucky chuckled.

“Code green?” Peter rose a brow.

“Yep.” You nodded. “And after training for years as an assassin, your reflex’s get really good.” You told the boy.

“Alright you four,” Tony started. “Present time.” He said, gesturing for you all to open your gifts.

“We might have gone a little overboard.” You said after all the gifts were opened. It was nearly half-past seven and the floor was covered in wrapping paper.

“It was our first Christmas with Pete, we had to.” Steve shrugged, pulling Tony in closer.

“Oh! That reminds me!” Peter exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Wait here.” He told you all before running towards the elevator.

“That was strange, right?” Tony asked after a second.

“Not stranger than anything else he’s done.” Bucky shrugged. Within minutes Peter was rushing back out of the elevator, holding four bags.

“Merry Christmas!” Peter grinned, handing each of you a bag.

“Oh Pete, thank you.” You smiled, leaning up and kissing his cheek.

“Yeah thank you, Peter. You know didn’t have to, kiddo.” Bucky added, wrapping his arm around the teenager.

“I know, but I wanted to.” He shrugged. “Go on, open them!”

“You got it, Underoos.” Tony nodded.

Opening your bag you pulled out a selection of small chocolates, jewelry that you loved, and other small trinkets that were incredibly thoughtful before pulling out a mug.

“Oh Peter. It’s perfect.”: You said, holding the mug close. It was a normal sized mug with a picture of a cartoon Yoda on the front. Above and below Yoda were the words ‘Yoda Best Mom.’

“I didn’t want to overstep or anything, but I really love being here with you all. I can’t ever thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. You didn’t have to train me, you didn’t have to take me in, and you didn’t have to be so nice to me but you have. And I really appreciate it and I love you guys.” Peter began to stammer, refusing to meet any of your eyes during his speech.

“Peter, look at me.” Tony said as he and Steve shifted closer. “We love you too, kid.”

“We really do. We love you being here. You’re like our kid.” Steve smiled at the teenager.

“Not like. You are our kid, Pete.” Bucky said, putting on a dad themed hat.

“We love you, Peter. You don’t need to thank us for anything.” You said, pulling him into a hug. Within seconds, all three of your partners had joined the hug.

“I love you, mom and dads.” Was whispered as the five of you clung to one another.

Peter Parker was fourteen. Peter had been through many tragedies in life but never allowed them to break his spirit. Peter Parker was Spiderman, but he to the four of you he was always your spider-baby.

All Taglists are always open.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @miyaeadys-blog @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover

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sugar-petals · 4 years

Text

Treats For You (M)

↳ PAIRING: yuzuru hanyu × reader

↳ PLOT: You tend to a nervous Yuzu the night before a skating competition.

↳ WORD COUNT: 9k | one shot | domestic au, smut

↳ WARNINGS ⚠️ pwp, dom/sub, feeding yuzu treats, pegging, some very wet oral (m giving), cum play, oh lord it gets graphic, fingering, crying, mommy kink, yuzu’s crazy back arch, rough sex, masochism, aftercare, some asthma talk

↳ CARO’S NOTE: inspired by this juicy gif. PS: since i usually post for other fandoms — if you’re unfamiliar with yuzu, visit this intro post.

Just two minutes after you switch off the light, he starts fidgeting.

Repeatedly, all while messing around with his pillow. Soon enough, the blanket you share becomes all disheveled.

You turn your head towards the window to check. All as usual. The blinds are perfectly drawn to shut out the moonlight. Meanwhile, the humidifier infuses the air in gentle ten-minute intervals. Not even the heater is bumbling tonight. Yuzuru keeps on rustling beside you, still. Some of his plushies fall off the bed, one after the other.

Of course he can’t sleep. It’s daunting, no precaution ever helps. The blanket couldn’t be any more crumpled up at this point.

„I’m so nervous,“ he finally sits up another minute later, causing the duvet to lift. A little sigh follows.

Eventually, you turn in the sheets yourself, now facing him. Or rather, what you can vaguely make out as his crouching silhouette.

„Hey,“ you mumble from your left side of the bed. „You watched all of the performances from last month.“ You pat Yuzu’s pillow, hoping he would sink down on it again. „At least twice. Or more.“

God knows for how many hours he stretched in front of the TV on his spongy blue yoga mat, reviewing mountains of footage with a furrowed brow worthy of a restaurant critic.

Every jump and every turn, analyzed over and over. Down to the millimeter. Even the costume got its fair share of scorn. Too wide there, this detail on the collar could be different, that part gets in the way while doing spins.

„It’s all— I don’t know what I’m lacking these days.“

The silhouette doesn’t look like it’s headed to lie down again for the time being. You reach toward your bedstand’s squiggly designer lamp. After fumbling about in the dark, you find the bulky switch at its bottom. On goes the light again. Perhaps a bit too bright, both of you squint hard.

„It’s not like you’re dropping to second place anytime soon.“

Given how you thought you could call it a day before Yuzu started to fidget, maybe your voice is not fully resonant yet. It still carries a little unspoken ‚…right?‘ with it.

As soon as you finish the sentence, you feel how he can pick up on it already. The humidifier dryly comments by puffing out a cloud of lavender steam.

„I don’t really know,“ Yuzu retorts twisting, going into a deep shrug. He is completely sunken now.

„Looks like a simple big hug won’t do, hm.“

Yuzuru ends up nodding. It’s more knowing than admitting. But you don’t like the sense of resignation that comes with it, at all. The problem goes a little deeper than just motivating him with the stats he ironically already knows, times better than you, even.

It’s been going on for the entire day. The last time he made such a grouchy face at his videos was around Christmas. Back then, he couldn’t quite get the jumps right at the start of his routine. But now? His scores are just fine. Not to mention the jumps.

„I didn’t think you were lacking,“ you say. „You just fell once during training.“

And that was because he was fooling around during a break, not in the serious exercises.

„Sorry for bothering you,“ he buries his face in the blanket, beginning to ruffle his hair all over the place. Frustrated Friday-evening-Yuzu always does that, but the energy doesn’t seem to go anywhere this time.

The murmur of his stomach isn’t hard to miss either. You lay your hand on Yuzu’s back.

„Is it because you didn’t eat?“

You wonder what he had for dinner.

Only more guilty stomach growling reaches you as a reply. Figures: He skipped it, and lunch, too. His breakfast was so frugal, you don’t even remember whether he had his milk or not.

Yuzu was already pacing around in the living room at that point. Recalling the tricky parts of the upcoming choreography, treading his feet into the carpet, humming the steady rhythm of his skating program.

„Maybe I’m turning into a snickers diva,“ a muffled little comment emerges from where his chaotic hair sticks out from the duvet. At this point, his face is all buried there.

„I mean. If you allow me to baby you…“

Three minutes later. You rub your eyes, shift from leg to leg. The kitchen floor is as cold as ever so you regret not putting on socks. Meanwhile, there’s no problem raiding the fridge.

You could go to the grocery store five times a day and buy everything Yuzu’s mouth waters over — it’d still be stacked to the top. Snacks, veggies, particular sports drinks in weird blue colors, Japanese pickled plums, gyoza left-overs, salad, various fizzy drinks, mostly lemonade.

It’s like that with any food. Out of sight, out of mind. He won’t bother getting up from the yoga mat if he’s fixated on the TV.

After making two distinct picks and checking whether the fridge door closes properly, then bustling at the sink with a towel, you trot back to the bedroom. Equipped. In the meantime, Yuzu has recollected his plushies from the floor, gently aligning them next to his pillow.

They’re all in their strictly defined place again. You enter just the second after he’s arranged them in the usual half-circle order, centered around his favorite, all-time friendly-eyed Winnie Pooh bear.

„Will you look at that,“ you plant your little kitchen conquests onto the bed, rousing approval noises from Yuzuru who sparkles right at the box and plate you brought along. The grouchy face dissolves, curiosity takes its place. His food reactions will always be the cutest to you.

„Strawberries!“

„From the market. Wasn’t too expensive.“

Freshly doused in the sink, plump and very ripe.

„And rice cakes!“

Truth be told, there couldn’t be a bigger comfort food on his list and you shamelessly exploit the very fact.

„Every competition has a victory meal. Here, fruits first.“

After plopping down on the mattress yourself, you pick up one, then two strawberries. Immediately, Yuzu’s little upturned mouth opens wide as if a tiger baby was yawning.

He chews more eagerly than you thought. If you pass him pretzel sticks while he reviews things on the TV, he barely eats one or two of them.

„I like these,“ he swallows, prying for the next fruit in your hand already. „Sweet!“

„Tastes best with cake,“ you rearrange your sitting position, making sure to park your cold feet next to Yuzuru’s very warm ones. His toes are readily brushing against yours, Yuzuru perhaps not even noticing they do. He’s too fixated on the little cakes. In all things he does— focus incarnate. He can’t help it.

„Yes, I wanna try!“

You rummage in the packaging you brought along, draw forth a first treat. A second one you set aside on the plate. Tiger baby opens his mouth even wider, in goes the first chunk of the rich delicacy. Lord have mercy on his stomach, it’s 11:15 PM. But what’s normal to him, anyways.

Ten more minutes pass. After the strawberry box is two thirds empty and three juicy rice cakes have embarked on their last journey, Yuzu looks a lot more content than before, even if his bedhead arguably makes him look like a mad scientist. Junior professor Yuzuru Hanyu, escapee from his genius lab that exploded in a blaze of smoke.

You take it as your task to brush the outlaw strands back into their place with your fingers after pulling out a wet wipe — those with the way too astringent citrus flavor— from your bedstand, cleaning your hands off the rice. It’s not like your hands aren’t sticky on the regular.

To your satisfaction, Yuzu looks like a swaying cat, nestled into his blanket. With no more stomach growling audible, gladly. You put the plate on the bedside table, lean forward to kiss his belly, and shoot him a fracture of an ambiguous gaze.

„So… Fancy getting even more stuffed?“

„Sure! Is it a surprise?“ Yuzu looks around, presumably searching for more food you brought along.

The pure soul.

„Well, we already had dessert.“

„Oh, right! But, what’s the food, then?“

A little pause follows. Yuzuru couldn’t look any more thrilled. You decide to go with it.

„You’re too innocent,“ you lower down your pants by an inch, thumbs demonstratively hooked into the hem. You raise your eyebrows into a question that he cannot miss. „If you want. You might wanna grab your spray first, though.“

Only the last part fully registers in Yuzuru’s expression that finally goes from curious to… sheepish. He caught on.

Asthma spray at 11:30 PM is a cue he’s gotten familiar with over the last four months. Not in a million years did he think he’d ever have to use it late at night. Whatever decision process is rattling through Yuzu’s brain right now, it’s a fast one, though.

„Ha— okay!“

„Alright, Yuzu.“

„Just once second!“

Food round number two, it is. You kick off your pants and underwear but make sure they don’t land any place where plushies are. Yuzu is already busy at the other end of the room, visibly at work with shaky hands, browsing the cupboard with meds next to the window.

Now that he’s double nervous, you curse your idea, but remind yourself of the last late-evening time Yuzu had his head between your legs. ‚I dunno, I was just concentrated‘ are the words that stuck with you after asking him how on earth he kept his breath for what felt like 45 seconds.

Whatever masochist devil has been driving him, it gave your boyfriend skills you never even knew were possible to have out of absolute nowhere. Not to mention how easily it distracted him from anything else in the world.

Maybe that focus is an effect easy to replicate, you think. Anything that can take his mind off the competition tomorrow is worth trying.

Carefully, you move over to the right side of the bed. Then, recline on Yuzu’s pillow — on his explicit wish two months ago, you meticulously keep that tradition — and feel surrounded by plushies already.

Back then, Yuzu insisted that he shouldn’t be the only one watching out for you when you’re having sex. And that the pillow just smells really good of your hair afterwards. So there you lay, feeling all kinds of horny. Given that Yuzu is already returning to the bed, swiping his hair off his forehead. Looking very refreshed, letting his breath play. Sexy.

And there it goes already. The I dunno, I was just concentrated gaze. You arrange your legs wide enough for Yuzu to settle in the middle, him still sitting upright. His hands are still shaky when they reach around your outer thigh, but his eyes don’t lie to you in the very least.

„Your breath alright?“

A little nod, but he doesn’t heed the question for any longer. There’s gladly nothing that his lung doctor can’t figure out. You count on that, but asking doesn’t hurt.

Meanwhile, Yuzu’s eager eyes are already drawn downwards. Getting bigger and bigger. The surprise he had anticipated in fact now dances over his face, flighty and polite, but nonetheless apparent to you. He’s smiling, and it looks shy in the light of the bedstand lamp.

„I, ah…“

It’s as if he hasn’t seen you naked before, every time. For whatever reason, Yuzu always reverts to virgin mode with his first glance. You admit it’s flattering and amusing alike, but also — leaves you with Hitchcock level suspense.

Yuzuru has proven himself to be an expert in summoning a beginner’s zeal, an almost childlikeness. That keeps you on your toes and promises an intensity that routine and pragmatic energy management could never give you.

After letting his eyes linger a little more, his lips become visibly impatient. He’s already licking them. You’d promised food, and he takes it seriously. That Yuzu’s fingers stroke rather weirdly at your thighs does not escape your attention either. They’re practicing.

„Help yourself, touch.“

The stroking ceases. Yuzu doesn’t hesitate to reach down with his left. How he touches you sends a row of tingles down your legs. His fingertips are amazingly dainty and soft. He explores. Then, soon keeps on caressing about, leans his head forward, all still from his seated position. It doesn’t take too long until he goes straight to getting you off with his right hand.

„This is, wow,“ he mumbles to himself, already immersed in rubbing your clit. Going in circles, taking his time. Alternating between index and thumb.

„Yeah. That’s the spot,“ you shift in the pillow, eventually finding a good position to relax. You exhale, focus on his hand.

„So smooth,“ Yuzu traces his joining left hand up and down your labia.

„Maybe someone wants a taste?“

You were right that he would forget practically anything else. The yoga mat worry brow is blown off his face. Substituted by— appetite.

„Not just maybe, actually.“

Spreading your legs a little more is invitation enough to have Yuzuru lower his head onto your pubic bone, tongue already searching for its favorite place. Your fingers gently interlace in his hair as soon as he starts sucking. Keeping his bangs out of his eyes.

How unafraid to bury his face he is you soon get to witness. You can feel the bridge of his nose glide from lip to lip, and the feathery light brush of his lashes at the base of your inner thighs.

Yuzu’s tongue has always been cheeky, but today, it feels particularly adventurous and slippery. He can’t help but fumble about with his hands simultaneously. Beginner’s zeal, you knew it’d come.

The bucking of your hips comes too naturally to be controlled. Nor does Yuzuru know just how to hold his head back from thrusting. This little shit. Whatever is in those rice cakes, it made him a new level of keen. Soon enough, his tongue has riled you up plenty, and his focused eyes have become entirely monotone. Only preoccupied with one thing and one thing alone.

Just how much he dedicates his attention has to be a thing for the books. You feel like blowing up and moaning like crazy at this point, but manage to at least puff out. He knows you’re way too close. There’s a little smile you feel in the way he eats you.

„So that mouth gets a cum filling,“ you twist your fingers out of Yuzu’s wild hair. It’s all tangled again. The return of the mad professor. He has all the space in the world to bop his head as much as he wants now. One, two, three plushies fall over and tumble around the mattress. He doesn’t notice.

The warmth between your legs has been growing ceaselessly. Now, ready to brim. With Yuzu’s agile tongue slipping back and forth over your clit in erratic intervals, you feel like losing your mind with every lick. The way his lips excite you gives off the lewdest sucking noises. All wet, and resolute like a chess player not to drop you off that high.

He keeps his laps consistent, leans in more, and eventually— tips you off the edge with a fast sequence of letting his tongue dip under the hood of your clit. And letting it stay there, all until your legs start twitching. You groan out.

Yuzu gets a big. Fat. Cum filling indeed.

Your breath goes short, you grab his shoulders. Growling, cursing. Trying to ride the wave, but the contractions catch you harder than you thought. You can practically feel how much you ooze out and ruin his face.

Bratty he is, Yuzuru forms his mouth all kissy and pecks your clit through every throb. Until the shockwaves subside, letting your shaking thighs off the hook eventually.

Too fucking intense. The surge of pleasure keeps on making your mind hazy long after your orgasm is over. To add fuel to the fire, Yuzuru rubs his belly, as if he just had two happy meals for the price of one.

Pulling off, his face is all bright and slobbery in its remaining smile. His lips are cum-glazed, and more than just plain sweat trickles down his nose. Nothing better than a facial right in front of twenty plushies. Who knew Winnie the Pooh himself would ever be eye witness to Yuzu’s sporty head game.

Friendly bear he is, it doesn’t seem to bother him. From unsuspecting comfort teddy on Yuzu’s lap 23/7 to live-action porn audience. First row, no popcorn though, but HD sound quality and claims to free spit. The guy is living his absolute best life, isn’t he.

„You… growling. That was pretty hot,“ Yuzuru says. His jaw is hanging all loose and most of his speech is slurred. Yuzu looks all satiated. In your mind, you pat yourself on your own shoulder. Boyfriend corruption: almost complete.

„Like being spoiled? I want you to clean that up.“

Yuzu squeaks out giddy in reply. A moment later, he goes back to lean down again, swallowing and licking up cum from your drenched, swollen lips. His slurping noises are indulgent, wet, and desperately slutty. He succeeds in cleaning you up, but keeps on messing up himself even more. Yuzuru delights in rubbing his whole face into your dripping pussy until his eyebrows are sticky, his lids and cheeks are damp, and you feel capable to get up from the pillow.

Despite not being underneath the blanket, you notice that your feet aren’t that cold anymore.

He sits on the bed like a mermaid, huddled close to you. Normally, he would visibly sort his thoughts like that, but now, all he does is blink and nuzzle up against you with his forehead.

Settling, Yuzuru doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands and you take it as a chance to pepper them with kisses. The back of the hand, the palms, the wrists. It calms you, and it calms him.

You feel entirely drenched, refreshed and relaxed at once. How Yuzuru cuddles against your legs makes your heart warm, and the moment is blissful.

One lavender steam cloud later, you feel like moving again. Maybe there are two restless people in this relationship. The thought of it is funny.

„We could go on a little more,“ eventually, you pat his head. „With something different if you want.“

„Do you still have energy?“ he asks. His breath is somewhat slowing already. It feels hot against your leg.

„More than before, actually.“

He sits up. Looks like you surprised him again. Little does Yuzu know how much he shakes you up.

„Really?“

You nod, twirling at his bangs now.

„I have an idea. So… you remember what’s been waiting in a box for a month.“

You can tell he knows exactly what you mean. No doubt he didn’t take very long to recall it, either. That tells you something.

„Can we use it?“

That answer was fast.

„It’s what I’ve been thinking.“

„We’ve been putting this off but I’m still curious.“

And your guess was correct. It’s definitely been on his mind.

„Yeah, you’re right.“

Promptly, you direct your eyes to the bedroom cupboard to your far left. The one containing various kinds of skating blades in slender packagings, tracksuits in dark colors, fan presents, and mail orders. Among them, a larger jet black box—

That neither Yuzu nor you dared to open given it was a product of a reckless button click at 2 PM.

Admittedly, after Yuzu passed you a way too expensive bottle of sake that he got for his birthday. Since he’s allergic to alcohol, somebody thought she could give it a sure try instead. Pouring $200 into the sink would have been the better option.

Said black box soon sits between the two of you, wide open to reveal the truth of what sake can do.

„Oh man. What have I done.“

That button click comes back to bite you big time.

„This looks, I think, realistic—?“

At least on the surface.

Of course, you drunk fool had to order the ‚sculpted, real-life imitation‘ version. You couldn’t be any more embarrassed. No more alcohol in this flat, that’s for sure. What else to do but take it in stride now that the box is already open, though.

„I uh, think so. At least with the veins.“

„It’s… it is really big.“

At least three times Yuzu’s flaccid size if you don’t hallucinate right now.

„I don’t know how I’m not gonna tear you apart. How many inches are these, 12? My drunk self is too ambitious.“

Maybe you shouldn’t have used that word and said ‚reckless‘ instead. Because ambition surely and habitually triggers a prancing and posing Shia LaBeouf shouting ‚do it!‘ in Yuzuru’s athlete brain. You can see it in his eyes and already regret thinking out loud.

„We can still try.“

„If that’s a good idea or not we will probably see,“ you begin to inspect the contents one by one up close. „I think I bought a weapon.“

„Now I know why they call guns a strap,“ Yuzuru equally peaks over the edge of the box, looking like his future just flashed before his eyes.

„Next time I pass the sake to your coaches or something,“ you end up pulling out the red harness kit that glaringly lays on top of the contents. All looking very adjustable indeed. „That’s what my midnight fantasy seems to look like.“

„Uh—huh!“

Yuzu snakes his hand into the box himself now. Pulling out a transparent, orange-pink 13 oz bottle with a bubbly-looking fluid inside. Gaudy stuff, but a generous amount.

„Mister Lube. My new best friend,“ he says, laying the bottle aside and then pulling off his black PJ shirt. Although he strips quite leisurely, you can tell that Yuzuru is a little tense in his torso. That you will attend to in a minute, you think. But beforehand, you let your eyes roam for something else.

„They probably have something to clean it with in there as well. Let me see.“

You find that even if you might have ordered all this pretty tipsy, the toy set does have its quality. Just before you want to ask Yuzuru to warm up, he visibly ponders, then cleans his pajamas off the bed to make space for a little area.

„If you don’t mind, I stretch my muscles,“ Yuzuru puts aside a couple of plushies, too, but keeps Pooh close, assuming his typical pre-training stances.

He knows himself. That’s good.

„Tell me if you need help for the thigh stretching.“

In the meantime, you ease into the red kit and arrange the box contents on the bed. There seem to be fifteen things going on at once. If this would be public in the slightest, you believe the two of you must look like a bunch of eccentrics to anybody who’d watch you.

Ten minutes later, Yuzuru might just be in Olympic shape, has downed almost half a liter of spring water in one go. You know that he could probably deliver a quintuple jump on the spot if he wanted. The strap-on is all assembled, clean, and you have stored away the practically empty box of sake sinnery.

„I’ll skate cross-eyed and cross-legged tomorrow,“ Yuzu stares right at your crotch, face buried in his palms. Only his eyes peek through the fingers. „Godspeed to my ass.“

You sure as hell won’t disagree. This strap is a threat.

„I don’t know why I had to order supersize out of all possible things. You need a prayer circle after this. Where’s Mister Lube?“

„Here, over here,“ Yuzuru passes over the bottle, shaking it.

„I’ll relax you as good as I can, okay. Before I get arrested for possession of weapons without a license.“

And annihilating Yuzu’s insides with that XXL dick that he sure as hell doesn’t just want halfway in. Lord have mercy. You can only shake your head at yourself for buying this.

„Honestly though. Does it really fit in?“

Yuzu leans his face toward your hip, now on all fours, taking the sight in. He still can’t believe his eyes.

„We’ll see. Let your body decide, not your pride okay,“ you poke the tip of the strap-on into his left cheek. Hoping that it takes away some of the tension, at least. „And you can still tap the mattress.“

„Okay. Tap the mattress.“

He nods quite avidly. Same protocol as always. No spoken safewords, only something that Yuzu can make use of with his reflexes. Speech? Nothing you can both count on as soon as horniness kicks in.

You tried that for the first two weeks and quickly settled for tapping instead. Especially because Yuzu likes to have fingers in his mouth every so often.

„I mean. You just did like five splits, didn’t you. Warm-ups always help. If your ankle doesn’t fall off?“

That mini workout was more than just impressive, in fact. And still, you eye Yuzuru’s notoriously injured foot. The slim little fella has a long history of recovery behind him.

„The ankle is decent, the usual stuff.“

„I wish we had a smaller toy to start out with,“ you scratch your head. That might be the one thing that’s been missing from the box. „We still have Mister Lube, anyway. Watch this,“ you pick up the orange bottle, flipping the cap open. „It’s actually scented! Worth ruining the bed if you ask me.“

On goes the fluid, you rub it all across the length of the dildo. Must be cherry flavor or something. Yuzuru sure makes big eyes.

„I knew I could count on Mister Lube.“

„Yeah, we use lots. And I’ll be very gentle.“

The cherry scent is gladly much less tacky than the bottle itself, not too artificial-smelling either. You squeeze out a second load and distribute it over the strap-on just to be sure. Yuzuru’s breath goes faster.

„Can I ask something beforehand?“

„Go right ahead.“

„I wanna suck first if you…“

Who knew. The lube probably made his mouth water.

Being honest, you think that it might be a good idea to get this going. Better than blowing his pretty back out right away and making a mistake, even if he is much less tense now.

„I don’t mind, Yuzu. You already have some chapstick on, right? Here.“

You level your hips to line up with his mouth more easily. You can tell that Yuzuru, after some heavy blinking, eventually braces himself. There’s nothing more telling than his tunnel vision plastered all over his face. His eyes, lids heavy, are hypnotized and seem darker. Yuzu’s bedroom gaze is the best in the world.

„Okay, I’ll start.“

A first kittenish lick. A second. A third. Then, brave lips — enclosing the tip. He audibly nips and swallows.

A few more licks, and repeat. Mister Lube seems to taste pretty good. You bless the shady company that manufactures the black box of sin for once.

You let Yuzu explore, pump his hand around the shaft, lick from all directions he fancies. Compared to his wrist, the dildo doesn’t really fall short in diameter, but with Yuzu’s face up close you are relieved it’s not a complete David versus Goliath match.

Soon enough, he musters the courage to open his mouth a little wider, cramming a bit more in than just the tip. You can’t deny you’re getting turned on again with the way he slurps and hums around your dick. With the minutes, he becomes bolder, moving his head.

Even if the lube gathers at his chin and seeps down to the bed, he keeps on sucking, now with a first pearl of sweat lingering on his forehead already. You’d never think it’d make him break a sweat. To be fair, he just did fifty jumping jacks in the warm-up.

„Want me to move?“

Two nods. You glide in, let your hips do the work how they want to. You don’t trust your online shopping choices, but your tempo, at least. Yuzuru is making all choked up noises trying to gobble up all the girth he gets, his fingers entangled in your harness. It keeps him in a steady place.

You can work from that, angle a few superficial thrusts into his mouth to get the saliva flowing. The blotch on your bed is already pretty nasty. The slow pace is apt enough to fill Yuzu’s mouth with spit bubbles that begin to foam out bit by bit.

After two more minutes of light back and forth, Yuzuru pulls off to speak.

„Please do it stronger. I don’t mind being hoarse.“

Not a second later, all he does is slurp up a very dripping shaft again. With difficulty jamming it in past the first few inches, but determined, anyway. You didn’t expect anything else.

Yuzu’s lips and eyes are all glossy by now. The portion of lube-infused spit has accumulated at his jaw already, soon to travel down to his throat.

Stronger, he says. Why not.

„Okay, get ready.“

„M—hm!“

An abrasive jab follows a shallow one. If it wasn’t for the lube, your dick would scrape right down his upper throat. But this way, the first dip goes in with sufficient slip and slide, not leaving Yuzu with too much dick in his neck for long. All your strap-on does is bounce right back.

What you do hear is Yuzu’s gag reflex… claiming its rights. Still understated, but nevertheless there. After three more thrusts, you decide to stay about halfway balls deep, watching Yuzuru squirm, even try to shove in about an inch more by pressing his head forward. His breath is clean and deep through his nose. You put a checkmark on the my-boyfriend-has-asthma list in your mind.

„You look good with a dick in your mouth.“

What is supposedly a ‚thanks‘ ends up as gargling and choking. Yuzuru starts getting wet eyes at this point. Even a little bow of his head is something that doesn’t slip past your attention. Mannered guy, isn’t he.

That praise makes him do the horniest noises is also something that you make a memo of. Along with seeing how it’s rendering him all aroused. You’ve seen those neck veins and red chin spots come out plenty of times to know.

A couple more thrusts are not a bad option, you decide. Although it seems that Yuzuru had the idea to hollow out his cheeks that very moment. The vacuum first makes your cock plunge in a little too fast than intended, then naturally pulls Yuzu’s head forward once you move your hips back again.

It’s why the second thrust catches him off guard, flattening his lips and making your dick slide into his throat with air going in. Yuzu ends up choking hopelessly. It doesn’t look like he’s retreating his head in the very least, however.

Instead, you feel his hands grab at your either hip to secure himself in place. A glance from above, slightly angled sideward, shows you just how hard and throbbing Yuzu’s own dick is, tipping against his stomach.

Once again, you make an impressed-my-dear face that he doesn’t overlook. His cheeks go hollow again and he keeps up the indulgent speed. Increasingly getting rougher and more pain-craving. Messier. Desperate.

Yuzu opens his mouth wider not to have his teeth get in the way. It’s serious business now. His throat makes the most disgusting, grunting noises. Oh. Shit. Yuzu’s greed and sloppy lips make your body burn up. Soreness is the very least he’s headed for.

„Wow, Yuzu. Wow.“

It’s not something you didn’t know already. This man is without a singular doubt a lunatic. You whisper more praises to him, your hands grabbing hold of his head to sustain the movement rhythmically.

Yuzu’s gag reflex has proven to only rebel every other thrust so you can pound away, at that time already giving up even the mattress that must be sopping wet to its core with Yuzuru drooling all over it. Too late for a towel altogether but fuck it.

Yuzu takes the choking well. He’s leaking spit all over, surrenders to your hands. Even if he doesn’t manage to deepthroat the entire length of the dick, he manages an awful lot of inches. By now, he’s gotten the hang of not letting too much air in. All while relaxing his muscles.

Beautiful hums, chokes, little whines. Too bad your phone isn’t close by. Recording this has to be your very next bucket list entry. You’re glad he asked about this.

You go on thrusting for a few more times until you feel your hips going tired. Once his nose starts getting all runny, you naturally slow down even more. Eventually, you help Yuzuru pull his head off. His lips are all puffy.

„B—woah,“ it’s all he can moan and splurt out, and you help him wipe the glob of saliva and snot from his chin with your sleeve.

Your pajama shirt might be ruined, but not as much as Yuzu’s tonsils. Who knows just how many times you were deep and fast enough to make them throb from all that friction. Seven, eight times? His food for tomorrow can be a light soup at best. Not even you were as sore after riding and sucking every last drop out of his dick last Monday.

You’re glad he has the rice cakes going through his system right now. Poor onlooker Winnie the Pooh is probably traumatized by now. There’s only so much crazy dicksucking a bear can handle watching. And still, he gazes at the two of you— in good spirits as ever, cheeks big and bright. In a way, he looks like Yuzu in this very moment.

„How you like it?,“ you softly caress his pinkish lips. „I need to know how many stars to leave on the website.“

It takes a few moments until he can form words again. His speech is fast. He’s still staring at the dildo.

„It was in so deep and, and on my tongue. The dick veins, I could feel them. They were like, like, it was massaging my lips. And I almost thought I could swallow it.“

You raise your brows. Lord knows how deep your cock was inside his brain, but he still picks these things up.

„Attention to detail. Nice.“

Maybe 4.5 stars are a fair deal. At least for throat fucking. The rest — remains to be seen.

„Did I do well?“

His eyes widen. The question is genuine. It’s not something you’d think he would ask. Whenever he trained, he would always rely on his own judgment.

„Ask yourself first, you were the one feeling it.“

That’s not the answer he expected, and he ends up getting red cheeks.

„I liked it,“ he stammers. „Was really hot.“

„It’s what I saw, too. Good job, babe.“

He’s blushing even more now.

„Ah— I think I tried my best.“

You smile and cup his slobbery face. So you’ve taken his throat virginity in the most spit-heavy way possible. He looks cuter than ever.

„Listen. You’re a champ. If I could, I would cum deep inside of you.“

„I think, that would be romantic,“ his wet lips break into an upbeat smile. Yuzu’s eyes get all crinkly.

„You bet.“

A big doting kiss for Yuzu’s forehead is the only thing your brain can conjure up at this point, so you briefly lean down to do it. Maybe Shia LaBeouf is not just exclusively at home in Yuzu’s imagination.

What you have to admit is that Yuzu’s overflowing athlete’s spirit has easily taken over your hips. You didn’t think you could move properly for that long. Maybe you still have some energy reservoirs left.

„And, and now?“

„I can stuff you with more dick. Up to you. Mister Lube didn’t run out yet. And if Pooh still likes watching.“

By instinct, Yuzuru’s hands snake behind his back to grip his ass, stroking what he knows is your delightful next target. You can tell by his eyes that there are a thousand scenarios going through his head.

„Pooh likes this… very much. He’s never seen something like that before. I think he is curious.“

It doesn’t take a Sherlock’s mind for you to know that he means— himself.

„I mean. I was surprised. If that monster fits into your little throat,“ you add, „anything is possible.“

That’s the final straw.

„I’ll do it,“ he says, moments later on all fours, face lowered and then rested sidewards on the bed, spreading his ass cheeks. Decision making when it comes to strap stuff is Yuzu’s forte, you jot that down in your invisible sex life journal. Not one bit of hesitation. By the looks of it, a very twitching entrance is waiting for you.

Testing period is over.

„Alright. I got something to drive home.“

Now that you think of it. If his ass is already only half as naughty as his mouth, you’ll need the help of a higher power.

„Shit. I think, it relaxes.“

At the expense of your mattress and blanket getting even more greasy with lube, you ease in the tip after massaging it into his sphincter. Yuzu’s ass still has to deal with that new sensation given how his leg muscles are going all bonkers. But indeed he’s grown receptive.

„Comfy like that?“

„B—big…“

„Attention, just a little tweak before I go on. Here.“

You softly press down on his spine with your palm entirely flat, and his back obliges immediately. His arch is leaving you breathless.

Yuzu’s head and chest are snug and soft against the bed while his ass is far, far up. He smiles seeing you venerate his back, he didn’t miss your reaction in the least. No surprise a third of your cock gets sucked into his ass just moments later. It caught you off guard.

Judging by Yuzu’s little yelp and his eyes rolling back, the way you went right into him has found pleasure. The bedposts creak a little because Yuzuru’s legs are shivering. As is his voice.

„I love it, I lo-, please, my, my ass!“

„Can I move?“

„Yes, please!“

The arch did the trick. You love your boyfriend. What follows is a slowly plunging series of rewards, ten, eleven times, pulling at his gripping asshole until it surrenders into going loose. Yuzuru has almost accommodated a third of the length you’re engraving into his ass. You’ll definitely keep using that brand of lube.

„Here, babe. I got a present for your prostate.“

Yuzu is making your favorite lawless face when you hit the spot, controlling the base of the dildo with two your fingers going around it like a cock ring. He looks as if someone just handed him a trophy too big to carry. From his perineum, a thread of lube comes dripping down with a squelching noise. The poor sheets. It’s another virginity taken.

In the meantime, Yuzu grabs hold of the duvet with unsteady hands. His entire torso is nothing but a shaky mess. So erratic. And sweaty. And docile. And beautiful. You want to award him plenty, your little present from above, the jittery boy underneath you.

Pounding away and making him grit his teeth is worth heading for a mean cramp, you don’t care. Watching how your cock is plowing in and out of him at jerky angles with the absolute lewdest, bubbling noises recompensates for anything.

Yuzu’s rolling eyes have become spaced out and teary, making him look like a crying saint about to enter the golden gates of heaven. Who knew angels had black hair.

With every stroke, his ass becomes every bit accepting to the point of almost glaring open to let you thrust in. Thank God. You compliment yourself on not falling short of the arguably lofty promise to relax him. Moaning Yuzu’s little ass is swallowing it all.

By the time, his rectum is going hollow and sticky, welcoming every move of yours by giving you ample right of passage. During some thrusts, you don’t even see his sphincter hold on to the dildo at all. His ass is almost as dilated as his loose mouth itself. Your thrusts are working on their own again at this point. What instinct is propelling you, who knows.

You love the sight and the happy squeals. You tease him with more speed. Not without effect, your hips lunge and aim deep all the more. You penetrate him far enough to start an excavation for ancient relics next Monday. With the tempo increasing, so does the chesty volume in his voice.

„It’s,“ he cries out, „in my belly! Ah! Ah, shit! Shit...“

You see Yuzu let go of the duvet with his left hand. It promptly darts way down to his abdomen where his fingers grope around.

„I can feel it,“ he whines, „It’s rubbing there, it’s a big bump!“

You sure won’t deprive your own hand from that sensation and reach right down, too. Which means leaning forward— and stuffing your strap even harder into his guts. Yuzu gasps out loud. Both your hands meet fondling about, cupping the sensitive area in search for the imprint of the dildo.

What Yuzu says is not understated. His slender little belly is all bulged out in the bottom quarter. Since he’s so thin, it’s almost scary how much your cock just dents him out and twists around.

„Jesus, Yuzu,“ you let your hand roam next to his, even lightly squeezing the area. It’s what really riles him.

What you thought was the maximum for him to take turns out to be nothing but a mere start. Yuzu is so obsessed to feel the bulge more that he starts bucking his ass onto your cock with the most unbridled voice cracks.

You can’t lie. His moans make your jaw drop. His usually so controlled body on the ice is now wrecking and writhing itself to get more dick.

A thin line of sweat goes on a pilgrimage down his spine already. He impales himself more, gyrates his hips more, whines out more. You wonder how he keeps it together and doesn’t spritz all his cum over the bed and the floor tiles.

It’s the sheer force of will. Always hungry for the next level. You can’t help but admire how enduring he is. And that’s just the first time.

Yuzu’s feet have become agitated on the sheets, responding to every thrust by dangling and swishing around. Yesterday, his right ankle was all stiff and even a bit swollen. Now, it’s moving all over the place. Looks like doggy style is putting all the tension off the ligaments. It’s something else you take deliberate note of.

After five more thrusts and hearing his whimpers getting all drawn-out, eventually, you retreat for a break, letting your cock rest on his left ass cheek. Yuzu inhales, gathering himself. He looks at you with big, glazed bambi eyes. Maybe even a bit incredulous.

„Am I, am I gaping?“

You don’t have to check twice to know.

„All lose. If you knew how far I can see inside of you. Hole new world.“

„Y/N!“

He can’t hold eye contact now.

„Naughty, huh. But I like what I see.“

Goddamn great ass. You firmly smack Yuzu squarely across his right butt cheek. He twitches, clenches, bites his lips more. They tremble.

„Ah! You tease!“

„Want me to put it in again?“

Wild nodding. Looks like Yuzu’s usual voracity on the ice does an easy, albeit not entirely seamless transfer to bed, too. He still ogles what is about to stretch him out again with due respect. He still can’t fathom something this massive was inside of him, you can tell.

Once you start moving again, you notice his feet and thigh muscles violently jerking. His prostate has gotten all sensitive. Probably all spongy and large by now.

You decide to angle yourself differently and take a deep breath. Impossible to draw this out any longer. From the vicinity of Yuzu’s pillow, you grasp the Winnie Pooh plush toy and maneuver it into his awaiting embrace. He holds it tight in an instant.

With impatient hands, you fumble around the bed for the lube bottle until you find it next to his right foot. Two, three, four generous squeezes onto his asshole, not very accurate at all. Several fine, oily traces end up trickling down his inner thighs. You don’t even bother closing the bottle properly anymore. Too much adrenaline.

„Grab those sheets and Pooh, Yuzu, grab hard.“

„I got it!“

„Time I fuck you up. If you’re ready?“

„Yes, make me cum, make me cum! Please break my ass,“ he’s whimpering. So badly. „I want it! I want it all inside.“

Mister Lube has a last job to handle.

Yuzu has crammed three fingers into his mouth once you get a hold of his hair and deliver the last hard movements. He takes the blows all babbling and sucking himself off. How his ass is not completely falling apart by now is a miracle of nature. Or maybe, just the blessing of his daily training.

The room is heavy with the scent of sweat and cherries. He’s loosened his core so much that sliding in is not a question of you avoiding a cramp anymore, but technique. You feel focused to zero in and not miss the sweet, tender spot. It makes him mewl the first time you push your dick tip right into it.

The second time, his eyes get big and fluttering.

„Please. Please, hurt me,“ he salivates, then eventually, grabs his plush harder. „Hurt me bad. I’m really begging you.“

Fast to oblige, you claw your hands around his waist and pull his body backwards. The ten nails digging into him are only the last needed set-up. The last jab comes in crisp, landing a severe and punctuated shock. Yuzu’s ass smacks up hard at your loins. The pain quickly snakes right up his spine and leaves his face contorted.

„Oh fuck…!“

Small, shaking Yuzu cums like fifty fireworks going off at once. Not even releasing his screams into the duvet really helps to mute out the heaviness of the first waves. You keep your cock right in place and let it buffer into his prostate at will.

Yuzu’s legs kick and tangle under you like pasta in boiling water. He cries and groans and curses, and cries out even more. You can see his entire back muscles at work now, going like clockwork. His moans each sound so ecstatic, it registers as a different language to you. He spirals far into his orgasm, sobbing, and it looks beautiful.

„Amazing, Yuzu.“

His semen lands all over his sternum and the sheets, shooting out in several bursts, one more pumping than the other. It’s almost as if all that strawberry juice converted nicely into a blotchy, white fluid.

His dick is still tensing up completely sensitive. Releasing cum, up until his legs stop going all over the place. Yuzu doesn’t let the sperm cool for twenty seconds that he already reaches down to pick it up, jerking his cock a last dozen times, only to bring to his mouth what his fingers collected. He sucks up all of it.

„Delicious, baby?“

„M—hm!“

„So nicely milked.“

His relished expression. You imagine that this must have been how the gods first tasted nectar.

While he licks away, Yuzu goes limp head to toe with you carefully pulling out your dick. Inch by inch. Not pulling. Only gliding.

Once you’ve removed the tip, he collapses into a sniffing, giggly puddle of serotonin. Crying, even when you lend him both your hands to lay his face into.

He’s so gorgeous.

Breathing hard, sweaty, drooling and messed up. His body is so steamy and loose, splayed out all the way before you. His entrance has turned all pink so beautifully. Hot. As. Fuck.

Most psychologists would envy you for being able to gaze this far into Yuzuru Hanyu’s innermost clenching being. How his ass is going to close until tomorrow’s competition, you don’t know.

Time to pray he won’t digest these savory cakes too fast. Then again, he didn’t eat properly at all. His body is probably soaking up all the fruit and rice in their entirety.

You pat his lower back gently, making sure to lay him down into a sleeping position already. Pooh is right by his side. Yuzu’s legs are still so dangly.

He’s really let go completely. You’ve not fucked his ass, but his soul.

You want to thank him for trusting you so much. Beside the shady black box manufacturer.

The bed is a glorious mess.

Removing the strap-on harness makes you feel just how loosened your own limbs have become, too. Come to think of it, this might be your new heavy-duty workout. None of your friends know you do this kind of cardio involving the best ass in the whole city as your personal trainer.

Yuzu’s butt has turned you into a drenched, wobbly homo sapiens that will probably look in the mirror by tomorrow and proclaim herself a bodybuilder from those sheer muscle burn gains.

When the two of you show up at the rink tomorrow, you both need hunky guys carrying you in by the armpits or something.

And the whole world will wonder how Yuzu’s wonky ankle magically recovered overnight but he can’t sit.

Changing the duvet at quarter past twelve with an unmovable Yuzu on top of it seems like a thing of the impossible. It’s soiled, it’s sweaty, it would probably make it to the first page if a reporter ever got hold of it.

But you take it pragmatically and opt for sleeping on Yuzu’s cleaner side of the bed intertwined. It’s surprisingly dry there. Big laundry day tomorrow, anyway.

The only thing you manage to do is reach for the window to open and to grab a glass of water from the bedstand to share. He’s chugging the remaining half down in one go. His hands? Oh wonder.

More than steady.

He calmed completely. After he puts down the glass, you scoot closer to him.

„Your foot — better?“

„Oh? I didn’t even think about it.“

He wriggles his left leg back and forth underneath the blanket, then concludes with a surprised face:

„It’s turning pretty well? I think you hit a nerve. Maybe you should split me in half more often.“

He shrugs. Yuzu’s serious face while saying that so dryly makes you laugh.

„Looks like it,“ you draw out the open lube bottle from beside you, finally closing the lid. „Do you… need a towel?“

„I just need you. I have to be disgusting for once.“

„I’ll scrape that all off tomorrow before we leave. Hot shower, five tons of shampoo. I’ll be breaking out the stuff you clean your skates with if I have to.“

That makes Yuzu chuckle. In fact, he beams a little.

„Sounds like something to look forward to.“

„I hope you can walk, anyway. Is it painful?“

Your biggest sorrow at this point. Taking his mind off was easy, but now he’s got boneless legs. Your conscience nags you for dicking him down out of all possible things.

„You have your weapon license now. I gotta admit… the last one…“

…was ass destruction 3.0, you complete his sentence in your mind. It’s nothing a normal human being could have stomached. „I’ll manage, though. I still feel my legs.“

„God, how does he do it.“

A smug „He’s Yuzuru Hanyu, that’s how, aw yeah!“ is what you imagine God’s answer to sound like. But instead, all you get is a little smile. Very well, from the little God in your bed.

„Pooh did this. When I squeezed him, I knew I could take it.“

He reaches to the middle of the bed. Five consecutive head pats for the bear plushie and Yuzu looks content already.

„Winning medals with just one working ankle is the same as doing it with a demolished ass to you, huh.“

„It’s not demolished, it’s improved and overhauled,“ he smiles. „Never felt any better. It was really good how you did this.“

It’s his strangest sport philosophy yet. But if you know one thing, it’s that Yuzu’s bizarre body hacks have gotten him the podium every time. You can already see him asking for another strap round before your mind’s eye. Before the next competition, at least.

„You honestly blow my mind.“

„And your dick, tomorrow night,“ goes Yuzu’s cheeky winner grin. There it is. Insatiable how you love it. You already feel the need to google ‚hip thrust strengthening exercises’.

Maybe, if science advances to that point one day, you honestly clone yourself so double your capacity. And so that you can spitroast him. Maybe you order another dildo from the website and pin it to the wall, anyways.

„Must be Mister Lube who did all of this.“

„I want to buy more of it tomorrow. Any other groceries we need, anyway? I’ll be cleaning the floor, too. I hope I’m not too worn-out after skating.“

„We’ll do one thing after the other, alright. There are still rice cakes left for breakfast, those will get you through the day.“

You’ve seen how much of an energy burst the cakes gave him.

„I really like those,“ he mumbles, then nuzzles into the pillow, sucking in your hair’s scent. Oh, it’s the moment you waited for. „Snickers diva… happy.“

A very cheery, puffy face slowly comes to rest beside you now, hair going in all directions. Infallible and ever-returning: Professor Yuzu’s explosive hairdo. Pooh is all clingy at his chest. A little worn from all the squeezing, but still with an amicable chuckle. You smile from ear to ear. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

You kiss Yuzuru’s little nose and lips until he’s making sleepy sounds. Either this is a late-night mirage created by your very moan-tested ears, or he is actually purring. You make sure the Pooh plush resting at his chest faces him correctly, then clear away the remaining strawberries, shut the window, arrange the blanket, put on your pajamas properly.

The humidifier whirrs in the background while tiger baby does one last big yawn before drifting off. In a matter of two minutes, maybe even less than that.

Just as you reach toward the bedstand to switch off the light, Yuzu’s hand curls into your shirt from behind. You turn, he is all dozed off. Not one leg fidgeting. However, talking in his sleep with his hand nestled into your PJs.

„Big hug please, Pooh mama.“

#figure skating #yuzuru hanyu #yuzuru hanyu smut #yuzuru hanyu x reader #yuzuru hanyu fanfic #figure skating fanfic #fs #figure skating smut #sub!yuzuru #dom!reader #treats for you #original content

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drazzilder · 3 years

Text

A Winter’s Flight

By Drazzzilder

Chapter 8: Snow

Winter has taken over Japan this year. Almost the whole country is covered in a fresh blanket of white powder. Shoto and Natsuo are home for winter break and Fuyumi is visiting as well. You and Enji took the initiative to plan a vacation at a ski resort for the whole family, even managing to convince Enji to let Keigo come as well. You could practically hear Keigo yelling in excitement when you texted him the news.

E: “Is everyone ready? We need to leave soon so we don’t miss the Shinkansen.” He yells from the first floor.

F: “Almost! I’m just closing my suit case now!”

N: Coming down the stairs followed by Shoto “I don’t know what’s the big rush, we can just teleport there if we miss the train.”

S: “We used his powers before.”

Z: “You can’t rely on us for everything. You need to learn how to time manage.”

K: “I might be a mess according to your father but at least I’m on time. You all have been spoiled by Hellboy’s quirk.”

(Y/N): “I know I spoil them; I can’t help it. But we really need to leaving soon.”

F: “Coming!” She says running down the stairs. She trips over her feet and is about to tumble down but a few feathers quickly catch her and her suitcase.

K: “Careful!” He slowly lowers her back to the ground. He looks at her face which is flush with embarrassment.

F: “Thank you. I was in a rush and I guess I tripped over myself.”

Z: “Please be careful, we don’t want you to get hurt before you even get to the resort.”

E: “Now that everyone is ready, let’s go.”

You all leave the house and manage to just make the train. You and Enji are sitting right next to each other while Zaheer is facing you both, taking up 2 seats. Shoto and Natsuo are sitting next to each-other on the other side of the train while Fuyumi and Keigo are sitting behind them. You put Enji near the window to prevent him from turning back to look at the two constantly.

F: “I’m really excited you are coming with us.”

K: “I am too! I don’t know how (Y/N) managed to convince your father to let me come. He must have used some of that demonic power on him.”

F: “No need. My father loves him so much that if (Y/N) ask for something, he would make it happen no matter what.”

K: “I think it’s strange seeing him in love. I mean, look at them up there.” At this point Keigo is looking and you and Enji. Enji has wrapped his arm around you while you hold his other hand in his lap. Your free hand is holding your phone, watching a video together. “It’s kind of adorable when you see it. Such a large, imposing man absolutely in love with someone. It is nice to see him happy. When I was a kid, he was just grumpy looking all the time.”

F: “He has a tendency to be private about his personal life. They are definitely more open about their relationship now but for a while it was hidden. He was afraid of what the public would think; being married to a woman then a man. But, I am happy (Y/N) came into our life. Without him, my father might not be here.”

K: “What do you mean?”

F: “All that stuff I told you, he regretted it so much it was eating him alive. (Y/N) was there to help him process it. It was strange seeing him with a man at first but after a while we saw what he was doing for dad, we know why they fell in love. Now I can’t imagine the two not together.”

K: “I’m glad to hear everything worked out. I did want to know, what is it like living with a demon?”

F: “Hmmm, other than he looks different, Zaheer acts just like us. He is just another member of the family.”

K: “That’s boring…” he pouts. “Wait, I just realized. He has a wedding ring on too?”

F: “Technically only Dad and (Y/N) are married but my father gave Zaheer a ring as a symbolic gesture. He does live inside of (Y/N) after all.”

K: “Awww, does he like Endeavor too?”

F: “Yes. It might be strange, but this is our family.”

K: “Anything else about the big guy?”

F: “He does break things but that’s just because he is so big. He is really fun when you get to know him. Even Natsuo likes him, which I can’t say about a lot of people.”

K: “Kinda wanna see him at home being all silly. I only see him when he is being a hero.”

F: “You will probably see that on this trip. Why are you so interested in Zaheer?”

K: “I just think it’s strange that a demon acts like he does.”

F: “He loves (Y/N) and Enji so much, he would never hurt them.”

K: “Eh… I guess that makes sense.”

F: “That doesn’t mean he won’t come after you if you make him mad. He is quite a force to reckoned with.”

~Meanwhile~

(Y/N): “Don’t worry so much. They are fine.”

E: “I can’t believe I said yes to him coming.” He gruffs.

Z: “I can. You always say yes to (Y/N).”

E: “I know… I can’t help it.”

(Y/N): “I didn’t ask him to come just for Fuyumi. I wanted Keigo and you to try to get along.”

E: “What?!” His glasses begin to fog.

Z: “Calm down. We don’t want the whole train to hear you.”

(Y/N): “You don’t have to hang out but just see what he does for her. Maybe you can see why she likes him. Come on, give him a chance. For me?” You bat your eyes at him, all goofy like.

E: “Fine…. But only for you.” He kisses you on the lips.

It isn’t long till everyone arrives at the ski resort. It is high in the mountains, fresh snow everywhere. Everyone wastes no time getting onto the slopes. Shoto and Natsuo had no problem getting up the mountain but down was another story for Natsuo where Shoto was a natural at the snowboard. Zaheer had the hardest time trying to find equipment to rend but they eventually found something that fits his size, hopefully he doesn’t break the skis. You and Enji just skied down some smaller slopes, keeping things calm. You had to, on more than one occasion, remind Enji not to use his fire on the mountain. Keigo and Fuyumi went all the way to the top to try the black diamond slope. She was a little afraid but Keigo wasn’t. The fresh powder made for a great ski down the mountain. She did fall twice but he was there to help her up. Everyone met for lunch in the cabin Enji rented. Afterwards, they went back to the mountain again.

F: “I’m having a lot of fun, Keigo. I never have skied before.”

K: “You’re a natural! I knew it would be a good time with you.”

F: “Maybe my dad will lighten up seeing how much fun we are having together.”

K: “Eh… we can hope. Come on, we got time for one more run, want to try the triple black diamond?”

F: “I don’t know….”

K: Opening his wings “Don’t worry, I got you.”

F: “Alright. Why not.”

Once at the top, the two stand looking down the intense slope. Fuyumi is having second thoughts but Keigo holds her hand to help her. They slowly start moving forward and let gravity take them down the mountain. The two are going down at a good pace when something seems off. There is a rumbling coming from behind them. It is an avalanche! The snow is approaching so fast the two don’t have any time to react other than Keigo flying to Fuyumi and wrapping his wings around the two. The two are engulf in a mountain of snow as they tumble down the slope. Keigo is ok but Fuyumi starts to feel a little sick from all of the tumbling and falling they are doing in the snow. Soon there is no sign of light anymore as the they fall deeper into the powder. Almost as fast as the snow started moving, it stopped and everything is silent and dark.

K: “Are you ok?”

F: “I think I’m ok. How are we going to get out of here?”

K: “My feathers should do the trick…” He tries to move but is completely still. The snow has compacted so tightly around the two that he can’t even move his feathers. “Um… I guess we are stuck. Any ideas?”

F: “I have one…. Zaheer, can you hear me? Please? We are trapped.”

K: “What? He can’t hear you?”

F: “Remember, we are marked. Maybe he can sense something is wrong.”

In the cold silence, the two wait. They are scared but at least they have each other for comfort. Not much time passes and they start to hear rumbling again. This time, it is coming from right above them as they hear what sounds like digging and yelling. Soon, the darkness is broken with a bright light. A large red hand reaches for the two and pulls them out.

Z: Pulling the both of them close to warm them: “Are you ok!?”

F: “A little shaken up but we are fine.”

K: “Wait, how did you know we were here?”

F: “Like I said, we are marked, he can find us anywhere.”

Z: Now fully hugging the both tight while crying “When I sensed you under the snow, I panicked. I was afraid I wasn’t going to make it in time. Please don’t do that again. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t make it in time. I know I might not be your parent but I care for you too, Fuyumi.”

K: “Calm down big guy, we are ok. I managed to protect us with my wings. I think we are done with skiing today.”

F: “Yeah. Do you mind teleporting us back to the cabin?”

Z: “Not at all. You know I am going to have to tell your fathers about this, right?” He says after he manages to calm down.

F: “I know, just try to ease it on them.”

E: “YOU WERE IN AN AVALACHE?!” Enji is practically about to break Fuyuimi in half with how tight he is hugging her.

(Y/N): “Normally I would say Enji is overreacting but this is serious. You could have died!”

K: “I was there. I used my wings to protect us.”

E: He releases Fuyumi from his titan grip and starts hugging Keigo “Thank you, thank you for protecting her.”

N: “Wow! Dad, are you ok? This is a little out of the norm with for you.”

(Y/N): “He is still processing the car accident and this isn’t helping. His emotions are raw right now, give him some time. Also thank you Zaheer for rescuing them.”

Z: “Of course.”

E: Regaining his composer “Yes. Thank you Zaheer. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get that emotional.”

F: “Its ok, we understand. Hearing that news would be jarring for any parent.”

(Y/N): “Why don’t we all relax in the hot tub for the evening.”

K: “Sounds good to me.”

The rest of the trip is much more relaxing. No one went down the mountain the rest of the trip out of fear for how Enji might react. They relaxing in the cabin, went to the spa, and even had karaoke night. The children didn’t know who was funnier to watch singing, Keigo or Zaheer. At the end of the week, everyone was ready to go back home. The train ride home was quiet and Keigo finally left to go home himself.

Next Chapter

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S2 06 | Frenemy

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2260

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, murder, swearing (always).

A/N: This is more likely a filler chapter. I swear as chapters go on they get better! I’m so excited for those ones to come out!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

"Couldn't get anything out of Danny." Scott got inside the Jeep after talking to the said boy, who was in the back of an ambulance. After I told them that Jackson was the kanima, they both ended up following him into a gay bar. Of course, not being a boy meant that I had to stay in the Jeep.

I was trying not to sit on Jackson as he was laying down on the back seats while I sat down on a little space in the middle, clutching into the front seats. Not safe.

"Okay, can we just get the hell outta here now, before one of my dad's deputies sees me?" Jackson had done some shit, and almost everyone inside ended up paralyzed or not being able to breathe properly. That's why now the outside of the club was full of ambulances and cops. Before Stiles could start his car, the Sheriff pulled over in front of us. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Could this get any worse?" As soon as he said that, Jackson started groaning, moving his head. Stiles turned around, yelling. "That was rhetorical!"

We started getting nervous. "Get rid of him." Scott bit his lower lip.

"Get rid of him? We're at a crime scene, and he's the sheriff."

"Do something." Stiles got frustrated by his friend's words, moving his arms aggressively on the air, and going out of the Jeep.

"What are they saying?" I asked the other McCall. Sometimes I was able to listen to conversations that were off my hearing range, but I couldn't control it, and I didn't know how to 'activate' it.

Jackson started groaning again, asking where he was. Scott asked him to be quiet, but he continued moaning, trying to sit up. "Not sorry about this." I punched him on the face. He fell unconscious. "That's for trying to drown me two times!" I grinned. To be honest, that felt great.

He sighed. "He told his father that he is gay."

I chuckled. "Not dressed like that." I could feel my half-brother's eyes on me, grinning. "What?"

"That's exactly what Mr. Stilisnki said."

After telling his father that they were there to accompany their friend Danny, we were free to go. Mr. Stilisnki saw me in the back of the car, sending me a smile while Stiles adjusted his body on his seat. I greeted him back, waving my hand.

"Uh, what about your house?"

"Not with my mom there. We need to take him somewhere where we can hold him long enough to figure out what to do with him. Or long enough to convince him he's dangerous."

"I still say we just kill him." Stiles looked through the rearview mirror, glancing at me, avoiding his best friend's gaze.

"Honestly," I interfered. "He tried to kill Stiles, and he tried to kill me two times so, payback is a bitch." The Hazel-eyed boy snickered at me, and I winked which made him blush a little, which in return made me blush.

"We're not killing him!"

"God, f - Okay, okay. I got an idea."

"Does it involve breaking the law?"

"By now, don't you think that's a given?" I sighed.

"I was just trying to be optimistic."

"Don't bother."

Stiles's idea was probably the worst. But at the same time, quite a good idea, and the only one we had. He stole the vehicle that was used to transport criminals to prison.

The three of us were in the woods, Jackson still unconscious while we tried to talk about what we had to do next.

"I'm going to go buy something for him to eat." He claimed that he would be fast due to his werewolf's abilities. "Keep an eye on him." We both nodded.

"So, you were trying to tell us that Jackson was the Kanima?" Stiles asked while resting his back against the trunk of a tree. I nodded, laughing a little. "I'm sorry. We were so busy freaking out that we didn't listen to you."

"It's okay, Stiles." I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to keep my body warm. "I wasn't sure if he was the Kanima." He glanced at me confused. "I mean," I swallowed. "I was almost entirely sure that it was him, but I had another person in mind."

"Who?"

"Me." I gulped again, a lump forming on my throat. It could still be me.

"You aren't the Ka-"

"We don't know that." I interrupted him. "Okay, last night, it was Jackson. We all saw him, but what about the other things that happened?" My hands went to my head, grasping my hair between my fingers. I stared at the ground, trying to ignore Stiles's gaze on me. "The times I drowned or that I was there with you guys, it's obvious that it was Jackson. But what about other times? At night nobody would see me. Jackson wasn't conscious of what he was doing. It could be the same with me." I finally looked him in the eyes. "There could be two Kanimas, Stiles. We were scratched by the same beast. We both are abnormalities and-"

"I'm stopping you right there." His hands grabbed mine, trying to take them off my hair so I wouldn't hurt myself. "You aren't THAT thing. Derek told you, he told you that you didn't smell like him. He would have told us the other night that you were one. You aren't a Kanima. I'm so sure. I'm sure you aren't." His eyes studied mine. "You aren't like that, okay? You have fought with us, not against us." I nodded my head. His thumbs were caressing my wrists. His voice was now a mere whisper. "We will find which amazing creature you are." He sweetly smiled at me, and I couldn't help but beam back.

"Thank you," I murmured.

His right hand stopped holding my left wrist, going to my cheek, caressing it. I had a tiny scar from fighting with the kanima. His eyes went from my eyes to my mouth. My heart started beating like crazy, and I was sure I could hear his own heartbeat. Both of them seemed to go at the same quick pace.

Whatever was going to happen was interrupted by Scott coming back with sandwiches, and Jackson shouting. I bit my lower lip, and Stiles groaned in frustration. "Let's go." Scott went back to school, trying to discover why Jackson would try to kill Danny.

"Scales? Like a fish." Jackson stared at us.

"No, more like a reptile. Um, and, uh, your claws have this liquid that paralyzes people, and you have a tail."

"I have a tail?" He calmly asked.

"Yeah, you have a tail."

"Mm. Does it do anything?"

"No, not that I know of."

Jackson moved forward, thankfully he was strained by cuffs, but I still got defensive thinking that he could hurt the boy sitting next to me. "Can I use it to strangle you?"

"Yeeeeeah, you still don't believe me. All right. The night of the semi-final game, what did you do right after?"

"I went home."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked while crossing my arms over my chest, resting even closer to Stiles. Our thighs touching.

"Yes, you idiot." He snapped at me, spitting. I glanced disgustingly at him, wiping my cheek. "What the hell else would I do?"

"You tried to drown her in the ice rink." Stiles pointed at me. "You attacked me and Derek at the school, and you trapped us in the pool," He again pointed at me. "Tried again to drown her. You also killed a mechanic, right in front of me, by the way. That was lovely. And one of Argent's hunters. Oh, and last night, you tried to kill Danny."

"Why would I want to kill my best friend?

I answered before Stiles could. "Well, that's what Scott's out trying to figure out right now."

"Mm. Well, maybe, he should be trying to figure out is how he's going to pay for a lawyer when I prosecute your asses all the way to jail!"

"All right, well, tell me this. On the night of the first full moon, what happened?"

"Nothing." He gazed at the floor. Bad move, Jackson. I know you are lying. "Nothing happened."

Allison had come to the forest, searching for us. They knew. Jackson's parents knew that he was missing. It seemed like Stiles texting him with Whittemore's phone hadn't worked out. This meant that we were completely fucked up.

"If Jackson doesn't remember being the kanima, he's definitely not gonna remember stealing Danny's tablet."

"Why would he steal the thing if he doesn't even know what's on it?"

"What if someone else took it?"

"Then somebody else knows what he is."

"Uh, which could mean someone's protecting him."

"Like the bestiary says, 'the kanima seeks a friend', right?" I wanted Allison to shut up. My mind was going crazy. Someone was trying to protect Jackson's identity.

It felt like my mind went back to the store; the first time I stepped in Beacon Hills. We both got attacked by the same creature, but what we were was modified by our minds. As Jackson had said before; everything had to with our mental health. I could tell you mine was fucked up. So could I be the one doing whatever it took to protect Jackson's Whittemore identity?

If he didn't have any memory of being the Kanima, why would I have any memory of helping him out? It could be me.

"Okay, hold on. So, somebody watches Jackson make a video of himself turning into the kanima, and then just erases part of it so he wouldn't know? I mean, who would do that?"

"Somebody who wanted to protect him?" My hands started trembling, my legs shaking. Stiles seemed to know what was going on as he clutched my hand discreetly, using his strength to keep me standing.

"There's something else. You said the only thing you found online about the Kanima it's that it goes after murderers. What if that's actually true?"

"No, it can't be. Tried to kill all of us, remember? I don't know about you two, but I haven't murdered anybody lately." I chuckled. He squeezed my hand, fingers now interlocked.

"But I - I don't think that it was actually trying to kill us. Remember when we were at Isaac's the first time, it just went right by us, didn't it?"

"You're right, it just ran off."

"And it didn't kill you in the mechanic's garage."

"Well, yeah, but it tried to kill me and Derek in the pool." He made a gesture with his head. "And it tried to kill her."

"Did it?"

"It would've. It was waiting for us to come out."

"What if it was trying to keep you in?"

"Why do I feel so violated all of a sudden?" Stiles' body shuddered.

"Wait," They all gazed at me. "Maybe it didn't try to kill you, but it tried to kill me. Two times if I'm correct."

"Three if we count when it threw you off the roof and you landed on me," Stiles added. I playfully glared at him, he apologized while stuttering.

"Did it tho?" Scott asked. His eyes went to our interlocked hands, a little grin forming on his head, but quickly disappearing. "Let's forget about the roof, okay. The water, both times in the water." He continued when he saw that the three of us were completely confused. "You said when it forced you inside the water, it demanded you to breathe, and you were able to do so."

"Gosh," Allison nodded. "It was trying to help you." I was dumbfounded. "I mean, okay. Maybe not the best way to help you out, but he was trying to show you what you are or what you can do."

I peered at Stiles who was now looking at me. "Now, I'm the one feeling violated." He nodded, grinning, moving a strand of hair out of my face. The simple touch made my heart speed.

Stiles suggested that we should kill Jackson, again. But Scott said something that made us think. He had risked his life to save us from Peter Hale, and we had to try and help him. The McCall boy mentioned Lydia, my fingers started trying to get away from Stiles's hand, but he grasped it firmly. Uh?

Scott and Allison went back to the car, wanting to have some time for themselves. I felt bad for them. Knowing they were meant to be together, but also being ripped apart by the Argents. I had heard Scott sob some nights in his room, while softly whispering how he wanted to be able to live harmoniously.

"Maybe we should tell our parents." Stiles snapped me back to reality. "Before anyone else gets hurt. I don't know." His dad was the only person he had, I meant blood-related.

I sighed. I couldn't completely understand. But know, I had Stiles, Scott, Allison, and even Lydia. I would do anything that I could to protect them. My heart ached thinking about something terrible happening to them.

I stepped closer to Stiles, my arms going around his waist, embracing him. My head resting on his chest, closing my eyes while I felt the vibrations of his chest as he hummed, pleased, hugging me back.

But our moment was interrupted. Jackson had escaped. A thought came into my mind. What if the Kanima was not being protected but controlled?

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