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your-1up-girl · 2 years

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Neither Did I (Nicola Francesca x Fem!Reader)

Happy birthday to my love @sammilimyy I wanted to make something for you again this year so I figured I'd do alittle something something for your best Italian boi. I hope you like it Sam! You are so special to me and I am always greatful to have you in my life! I love you so much my love!

Word count: 3748

Warnings: Angst with fluff, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of WWI, probably incorrect historical facts? it's been a while, maybe OOC Nicola? (I broke him tbh), may have romanticized the Mafia (honestly the Mafia talk is so little that this warning may be unnecessary) so please understand that this is a work of FICTION and not meant to be taken seriously, the Mafia irl is messed up sooooo yeah, semi-edited, no beta we die like men or whatever

Ever since you were little, your mother used to tease you about how, “Nicola Francessca was going to marry you.” Obviously, being a child you had no idea how she would come to that conclusion. To you, Nicola was the person you could rely on. As a child he was there when you were upset for whatever reason. He was your guardian angel through it all. There were many nights you could remember of just spending time on one of the old rooftops in town and gaze into the brilliant sky together. You saw him and his family as part of your own and they welcomed you with open arms. Well, at least Dante and Gullia did. Nicola saw them as the most important people in his life at the time so only saw their introductions and approval as necessary. Your childhood with him was one that was constantly filled with laughter. There wasn’t a moment when you were not with him.

Time passed; both of you grew and, of course, so did your feelings. While Dante continued to have that baby brother charm you loved to tease him about, Nicola, you began to see in a different light. Your smile changed when you were with him, the way his hand felt in yours felt different, and the sound of your name falling from his lips became more and more special. Nicola too changed. Long gone was the scrawny boy you would playfully make fun of. Now, he has somehow grown into an attractive young man. And somehow, said man seemed to know this effect he had on you. Many times during your teens he would jest and tease about how you always looked away when he smiled at you. Or how you got tongue tied when he tossed any sort of praise your way.

It was embarrassing really how flustered you got around him. In your mind, it was only a one way feeling, but Nicola felt the same way. Your eyes grew bright when he showed you a part of town you didn’t know, or when he brought you sweets and coffee out of the blue just to see your excitement at what new dulce he has brought you today. Everything you did seemed to strike him through the heart. Time and time again, he was resorted to putty in his hands at your voice and any type of request you gave him.

“Nicola, can we go to the garden today?”

“I know you’re busy but, do you think we can get more treats from the bakery?”

“Won’t you come in? Mia Mamma made enough dinner to feed five of us.”

How could he resist you? You who looked at him like he was your world. He didn’t realize when it happened but during the moments spent together, a treasured calm from the storm of the Mafia life, he had fallen for you. You made him want to be a better man. Nicola craved for your touch. Any opportunity he could get to hold your hand was a gift he didn’t want to let go of. Leaning on your shoulder while you sat, holding you close to him when it got cold and you forgot to bring a shall, laying his head on your lap. It was all the soft, innocent touch that he wanted. He couldn't go too far however, all of them must remain–friendly? Yes, friendly. Two young teenagers who found comfort in each other. Nothing more, nothing less. But what if he wanted it to be more?

“Hey, Nicola?” It was late in the afternoon. You both decided to walk around the town even if Nicola’s father wanted him home but he never listened to what that bastard had to say. Nicola held your hand as you strolled down the cobblestone streets taking in the setting sun and soon blooming night-life the town had to offer.

“Yes Darling?” The pet name he honored you with always caused you to shy away. It was subtle this time, but Nicola saw the way you smiled at the ground and felt the way you squeezed his hand a bit more lovingly.

“Nicola,” Composing yourself, you began again. “What am I to you?” It was an unexpected question and caused him to just barely falter in the pase he set with you but luckily you didn’t notice the slip.

“What are you to me?”

“Yes.” The young girl gazed up at him with brilliant eyes full of adoration.

Damn it, she’s going to bring me to an early grave.

“You are very special to me my dear. I always look forward to the time we get to spend together.” Then he stopped, turned you to face him, and brought your mouth to his lips. He gave you nothing more than a chaste kiss but somehow, you felt like it was enough for the time being. “There isn’t ever a moment where I don’t think about you.” Amore mio, he wanted to add that. How desperately he wanted to add those two small words to fortify this relationship with you. But he couldn’t. He was only 17 and you 16, there was that small chance, that small seed of doubt that, once it takes root, is sometimes impossible to remove. So he remained in this space with you. Mutual pining that neither of you were ready to confront.

And you were both happy. Soon, when the time was right, you both would express your mutual feelings for each other and from there you would live a long, happy life with him. Oh how silly you were.

In 1914, an announcement was made, one that many knew was coming. The Kingdom of Italy had officially joined the war. Any young man at the age of 18, would be drafted to fight alongside the Central Powers. And of course Nicola Francessca was one of those chosen men.

It was depressing really, the only ones who saw him off were you, Dante, and Gullia. Dante, of course, held it together better than Gullia did, she practically saw Nicola as her own son. Both of them said their heartfelt goodbyes and they gave you a moment with him.

“H-”

“You shouldn’t have to go.” You spoke with a strain in your voice and refused to meet his sapphire eyes. Nicola saw as spots of the ground got darker from your falling tears. “But you’re leaving, for who knows how long, and-and I-” You broke the sentence and raised the back of your hand to your hidden face.

“Hey-”

“How will I contact you? What if they don’t allow letters? Or what if something happens to you? How will Gullia know? How will Dante? How will-”

“Look at me amore mio.” Nicola’s voice was soft and secure. But the calmness of his tone wasn’t what made you look at him. He’s never called you that before. Nicola wrapped one hand around your head, fingers lacing into your hair, placed his bags on the ground and brought you to his chest. He held you there for who knows how long and the shock on your face must have been a sight to see. “I promise nothing will happen. I guarantee you that I'll only be gone for a few months.” Then he chuckled, the vibrations bringing you some kind of comfort, “Or don’t tell me, you’ve become so attached to the hip that you can survive a few little months without me?” A scoff left your lips. Part of you was upset that he dared tease you at a time like this but a bigger part felt that same comfort you always did. You wrapped your arms around his waist and closed your eyes. You took in the feel of his clothes against your skin. The way his arms felt around you. The scent of the cologne he always wore ever since you bought it for his birthday years ago. But most importantly you listened carefully to his heartbeat.

Thum-bum.

It truly calmed you. Nicola calmed you. You listened to that steady beat as he held you.

“I promise, I’ll come back to you. I told you before, there isn’t ever a moment where I don’t think about you.” His heartbeat didn’t waver. You could trust him.

A sniffle escaped and you buried your face into his uniform. “I’m holding you to that.” A chuckle verberated again in his chest. When the train whistled, you finally broke apart. Nicola wiped the remaining tears from your eyes and picked up his bags. His back turned to you and he walked to the train door entrance, handed the conductor his ticket and that was that.

As you walked back to Gullia and Dante, a dark thought crossed your mind. The thought that that possibly was the last time you’d ever see Nicola again. The tears came again. It was frustrating really. Gullia saw your plight and held you as you both walked. Danted gave you a handkerchief to dry your tears, and you whispered, “There’s still so much I need to tell him. Why didn’t I tell him?” Not knowing what to say, Gullia could only tighten her grip, and Dante held your hand in comfort.

He was a liar Nicola. You knew it was childish but you truly thought that he would only be gone for a few months. A few months had passed and he still wasn’t home. It made you cry even now, as you packed your bags. Burlone had gotten too dangerous with the war. More soldiers had been stationed in town and the government had gotten forceful on many of the residents. You and your Mamma had to leave. She said that you would stay with a family member up north. It was calmer, she claimed. You barely had time to say goodbye to Dante or Gullia. You both made your escape from the town. Two pricey tickets later, you and your Mamma left. You heard her light snores and the clacking of the train filled the ride. As you gazed out the window, the only thing you could think about was how thankful you were to have that last moment with Nicola.

Years passed.

The war was over.

Italy had won? Lost? You didn't care anymore. Your Mamma had somehow found a way to get your old house back. You didn't think that you would see it again. The sights and sounds. It would take a while but eventually you figured things would return to some type of normalcy. It had been nearly four years since you last saw Burlone. Since you last seen Dante, Gullia-

And Nicola.

He never wrote to you. There was a small hope that when you got to your old home there would have been a pile of letters just waiting for you, but now. Just a dirty old house. A few neighbors who stayed helped you clean the place up and after a month it began to feel like you could live normally again. You began going out into town more frequently months later. Saying hello to old friends and visiting those who you could remember. And everytime without fail, you'd walk by the Falzone manor. You also never asked about Nicola. It's been long enough now that he would have come to see you. If you hadn't heard a word from him, you just assumed the worst and allowed your heart time to process it.

A few people told you that the Falzone did okay all things considered. There were a few spots here and there while the Kingdom of Italy was stationed here. But the order they kept or tried to keep was to the best of their ability.

"Oh wait, I remember you!" One bar owner exclaimed that caused nearby patrons to look as well, "You were Nicola Francesca's little girlfriend!"

"Well, yes I guess that's me. But I was never-"

"Look at how grown up you are bella! I'm sure Nicola was happy to see you once he got home."

Your head snapped up, "Nicola? He's-he's home? Alive?"

The bar owner gave a bellowing laugh, seeming unable to understand your shock, "Why of course bella. I think I saw him walking around not too long ago. Went down the street where the cafe is." Last you knew, there wasn't a cafe that way but it's been a while so who knows. You said your thanks, secured the groceries you had, and ran in the direction he pointed.

There just like he said, was a cafe and there sitting outside of it was Nicola. He looked older which was a given but being apart from him truly made your heart grow fonder. You wanted nothing more than to run to him. Finally tell him everything you should have said at the train station. But why didn't he come to you first? Did he even ask around if you were home or where you were? You didn't care.

Steeling your nerves, you approached the table. But as you did, another girl sat across from him. She was beautiful to say the least but that wasn't what stopped. What stopped you was how Nicola stood from his chair to give this girl a kiss on the cheek and hold her hand as they enjoyed their coffee.

What?

You didn't understand it at all. All this time, you thought that he would come home and you both would finally be together. Why, why was your Nicola Francesca flirting with another woman? Your heart dropped and you felt like you suddenly didn't know where you were. Feet remained unmoved as you stood there to witness it all. Only when Nicola laughed did you finally snap out of it. You turned to leave but of course-

"Oh sorry signorina, I didn't- Ah little bambina." That voice and nickname only Marcos ever called you that.

"Hello Marcos, sorry for bumping into you but I have to leave." You made quick work to pick up the things you dropped. People were starting to stare and you wanted to go home.

"Didn't realize you were back. It's good to see you again."

"Same here, look Marcos, if you want to talk later I'm sure mia Mamma would love to have you over. We still live in the same house." Marcos tried to talk to you more but you took your leave. You forced yourself not to look back but you weren't strong enough. With a glance over your shoulder, you saw Nicola stare at your retreating body. Mouth ajar and a mix of shock and something else written on his face.

A day passed, then two, it wasn't until the third day that Nicola showed up at your door. Your mom welcomed him with open arms talking about how handsome he was and how it's been too long. You heard it all from your bedroom upstairs but didn't make an effort to see him. Not until there was a small knock on your door did you move and there he stood. Nicola had on a green button up tucked into his pants. You noticed his eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes were the same but different. It still felt like home when you looked at them but it didn't have that same light you once remembered. He also held a bouquet of pink and blue flowers, ones he knew were your favorite. None of that mattered now however.

"Is there a reason you're at my door, Francesca?"

Ouch, fine, he deserved that one. "I came to see you."

"Yes?" You folded your arms, "Well you've seen me so now you can leave."

He ignored that comment, "I didn't know you were home. I was told that you left town soon after I left. Did you-"

"Why Nicola?" You stopped him before it could go any further. Not wanting to beat around the bush you just cut to the chase, "Why didn't you come see me when I came back?"

"Why didn't you come see me?"

Tears welled up, he had the audacity to throw the question back at you? "I heard nothing from you once you left. I thought you died, Nicola. At the train station, you said you would come back. You said that I was special to you so-so why didn't you-Why did it take you so long?"

He didn't have an answer.

"An-an-and why," Damnit, keep it together. Do not cry in front of him, it's not worth it. "Why were you with that other woman? Is that what you are now? A shameless flirt? There isn’t ever a moment where I don’t think about you. Did those words mean anything to you Nicola? Because they meant the world to me."

It was silent and before you knew it, you had closed the door on him. You thought that was the end. Truly you did. But the next night while your mom went to dinner with Marco, Nicola arrived once again.

"Let me in. Please?"

You sighed and against your better judgment allowed him entry. A shoe box was tucked in his arms. You led him to your room and sat on your bed and him in a chair and waited.

"I want to explain everything to you and then you can decide if you want me to leave, okay?" You nodded with crossed arms. Nicola then took a deep breath before continuing. “Not that this would make you feel any better, or to make myself look better, but I didn’t write to Gullia either. The only person who I wrote to was Dante.” You scoffed, “Just hold on. There was a reason for it.” The grip he had on the box seemed to loosen as he hung his head. “There was nothing to write home about in the trenches. Everyday I would see someone else lose a life out there. I thought that being in the Mafia I'd seen it all but-There were somethings I just couldn’t get over.” He stopped for a moment. By then you had unfolded your arms and softened your demeanor. You reached out to hold his hand and he turned it over to hold it back tightly.

“Oh Nicola. I had no idea.”

“No. You didn’t. But that’s how I wanted it to be. I’m not the same man I was when I left. No man out there ever comes back the same. Sometimes, while we tried to sleep, they would play loud music or make noise to keep us awake. I thought I would lose my mind. When it was all over, when they said we could go home, I didn't feel like I was good for you any more. I didn’t feel like I was the same man you cared for. The same man that you found comfort in died. I’m all that’s left.”

His breath was shaking. All you could do was sit, hold his hand, and listen. You felt useless but you hoped that it brought Nicola some type of comfort.

“I came home. I did my best to continue where I left off. I asked Gullia about you. She said you had moved to a safer place and felt relieved. I didn’t have to face you as I am now. But then you came back. I saw you on the first day you came to the town. Graceful, talking to everyone like you never left, and all smiles. Beautiful, beautiful smiles. You were so happy, I didn’t want to ruin that. I flirted with other women to forget about you but I knew where my heart lied.” Finally, he let go of your hand. Nicola took the shoe box he had and placed it in your lap; it was heavier than you expected. “I remember everything I said to you at that train station.” He gestured for you to open the box. When you did, the tears that welled up began to fall.

They were letters in unopened envelopes all addressed to you. You went through a few in Nicola’s presence and continued to cry. All of them talking about how much he missed you. How much he longed to be by your side again. Your heart felt like it would burst from this overwhelming feeling.

There was a raspiness in your voice, “You-you never sent them.”

“It didn’t feel right. I just needed you to know,” Nicola got up and placed his lips against your cheek. One hand played with your hair and he took a deep breath of your familiar scent. The scent and feel of something he missed for so long. “I never stopped thinking about you.” He kissed your cheek. Then stayed there. In between shaky breaths you said.

“I don’t want you to leave me. Please, not again.” The breath he held was released, he was at ease with his heart and mind. You brought him into a hug and he wasted no time to return it. He laid you back on the bed and you took him into your chest. He found solace in being with you. As he rested, you played with his hair, running your fingers through them as both your breaths steadied. After all this time, you had him here. He wasn’t going anywhere, you were going to make sure of that. Nicola picked up his head and gazed into your eyes. A hand brushed his bangs out of his face so you could get a better look at him. Yes, he was different. He wasn’t the same; but you didn’t care. He was here and he was yours and you his. He cupped your cheek and brought you in for a kiss. The kiss was years in the making as you both secured the relationship. Your lips meshed with one another in imperfect harmony. It was somewhat unconventional but neither cared. You leaned in more to just taste more of him, all of him. It was intoxicating.

When you broke apart, his cheek made a home against your neck as you planted kiss after kiss on his head. Nicola wrapped his arms around you and once again laid with you. Playing with his hair, the tears had stopped and you felt like you could breathe once more. He had softly whispered “I won’t leave you again amore mio.”

You thought back to his words again, “You truly never stopped thinking about me?”

“Not once.”

You smiled and, holding him tighter, responded, “Neither did I."

#i don't always write but when I do #it seems to only be for you lmao #happy birthday sam!!!#i did my best so i hope you like it #nicola francesca x reader #piofiore #piofiore the fated memories #nicola francesca #piofiore fanfiction #piofiore no banshou #piofiore fated memories #nicola x reader #nicola francesca x female reader #nicola francesca fanfiction #otome #my writing

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pinkjoy-cons · 2 years

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Neither did I

Word count: 3748

“Nicola, can we go to the garden today?”

“I know you’re busy but, do you think we can get more treats from the bakery?”

“Won’t you come in? Mia Mamma made enough dinner to feed five of us.”

“What are you to me?”

“Yes.” The young girl gazed up at him with brilliant eyes full of adoration.

Damn it, she’s going to bring me to an early grave.

And you were both happy. Soon, when the time was right, you both would express your mutual feelings for each other and from there you would live a long, happy life with him. Oh how silly you were.

“H-”

“Hey-”

“How will I contact you? What if they don’t allow letters? Or what if something happens to you? How will Gullia know? How will Dante? How will-”

Thum-bum.

It truly calmed you. Nicola calmed you. You listened to that steady beat as he held you.

“I promise, I’ll come back to you. I told you before, there isn’t ever a moment where I don’t think about you.” His heartbeat didn’t waver. You could trust him.

Years passed.

The war was over.

And Nicola.

"Oh wait, I remember you!" One bar owner exclaimed that caused nearby patrons to look as well, "You were Nicola Francesca's little girlfriend!"

"Well, yes I guess that's me. But I was never-"

"Look at how grown up you are bella! I'm sure Nicola was happy to see you once he got home."

Your head snapped up, "Nicola? He's-he's home? Alive?"

What?

"Oh sorry signorina, I didn't- Ah little bambina." That voice and nickname only Marcos ever called you that.

"Hello Marcos, sorry for bumping into you but I have to leave." You made quick work to pick up the things you dropped. People were starting to stare and you wanted to go home.

"Didn't realize you were back. It's good to see you again."

"Is there a reason you're at my door, Francesca?"

Ouch, fine, he deserved that one. "I came to see you."

"Yes?" You folded your arms, "Well you've seen me so now you can leave."

He ignored that comment, "I didn't know you were home. I was told that you left town soon after I left. Did you-"

"Why Nicola?" You stopped him before it could go any further. Not wanting to beat around the bush you just cut to the chase, "Why didn't you come see me when I came back?"

"Why didn't you come see me?"

He didn't have an answer.

"Let me in. Please?"

You sighed and against your better judgment allowed him entry. A shoe box was tucked in his arms. You led him to your room and sat on your bed and him in a chair and waited.

“Oh Nicola. I had no idea.”

His breath was shaking. All you could do was sit, hold his hand, and listen. You felt useless but you hoped that it brought Nicola some type of comfort.

There was a raspiness in your voice, “You-you never sent them.”

You thought back to his words again, “You truly never stopped thinking about me?”

“Not once.”

You smiled and, holding him tighter, responded, “Neither did I."

#nicola francesca #piofiore #piofiore the fated memories #nicola francesca x reader #nicola francesca x fem reader #my witing #streaming archive #piofiore nicola #piofiore x reader #piofiore fanfiction #otome game #otome fandom #otome fanfiction

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sleepyrouge · 2 years

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imagining dilf!kirishima (part two) word count: 5.6k pairing: kirishima eijirou x f!reader content warnings: age gap (reader is early twenties, kirishima is early thirties), kinda sugar daddy/baby dynamics but only if you squint, f!reader, reader is kind of a nervous brat, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (but mentions of taking pill-form birth control), use of petnames, spanking (kinda?), creampie, choking, praise. also the prose in this is non-existent and the format is trash and if anyone sees any y'alls that i forgot to edit out...just.......let it rock. 18+ mdni (and no blank blogs) or you will get blocked. authors note: not me thinking about this post i made the other day for the t h o u s a n d t h time but just there's so much more to imagine, like:

it's before noon on a thursday and you have a final presentation for an elective american lit class in a few hours and you're about to climb a wall because you've practiced your presentation in your mirror so much that you can't stand the sight of your own face anymore so you end up calling kirishima. your stomach flips when you hear his voice on the other end of the line, all deep and sweet and cheery.

"hey, sweet girl! don't you have a final today?" he teases and your stomach is about to flip straight out of your body at the fact that he remembered.

"yeah, i'm really nervous about it." you chew on your lip.

"why don't you come over to the agency and practice in front of me? i don't have patrol until this afternoon." he suggests and you feel a little dumb for not thinking to suggest that yourself.

"are you sure? it won't be...weird?"

"'course not. you're my girlfriend and besides, it's my agency." kirishima continues but your brain gets all staticky after the first part of his sentence.

"i'm your girlfriend." you state slowly, goofy smile on your face that eijirou physically can't see but you can hear him chuckle on his end of the phone. it was the first time that he had called you that outright.

"i mean, i hope so, or pouring my heart out in front of that mcdonald's would have been kinda embarrassing." he jests. you cradle your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you grab your laptop and your notes from around your room and shove them in your schoolbag.

"definitely your girlfriend, eiji." you say with a broad grin on your face as your pick up your apartment keys and head out the door. "also i'm on my way." you finish up your conversation with kirishima as you bound down the stairs and onto the sidewalk.

the walk to his building isn't terribly long and is made even shorter by reciting the facts of your presentation over and over again in your head. you ride the elevator up to the floor that he texted you that he was on and just before the doors slide open, you're hit by a wave of anxiety. you know that kirishima has sidekicks that he employs at his agency that are around your age and you wonder agitatedly what they'll think of you.

too soon, the doors are opening and you hold your breath, expecting the worst but everything is relatively...mundane. like a magnet, your eyes find the door with kirishima's name on the front and you set a quick course for the door. you don't know why you did it, not really, but you slide through his door quickly, not even bothering to knock. you accidentally interrupt a phonecall he was having.

"what's she getting a degree in, anyways? learning how to tie her shoes? reciting the alphabet?" your face heats up at the sound of the man eijirou has on the other end of the line. he swivels in his chair, scrambling to cut the call short.

"goodbye, bakugou." kirishima scowls pointedly at the phone before fixing his face and looking up at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. "hey there, sweet thing," he grins and you shake off the self-doubt trying to make itself at home in your body. "i'm so ready to see your presentation." he goes on. his office is modest, a medium oak desk with a shiny black chair and an exquisite view of the city. you take a few steps around, admiring the pictures of him in his hero costume and some with his hero friends.

silently, kirishima cups his hands dutifully on his desk as he waits expectantly for you to start your presentation but you're caught off guard by how handsome and powerful he looks sitting there, hair laying flat against his head and dress shirt unbuttoned just enough at the top to make you want to undo the rest of the buttons. it's like kirishima can read your thoughts because he starts smirking at you and it flusters you just enough to startle you out of your reverie. you pull your laptop out of your schoolbag and click around, opening up the powerpoint and sitting it where the red-head can see it. you take a deep breath and crack your knuckles before launching into your speech about the impact of the beat poet movement, specifically allen ginsberg, and the murky history of that part of american literature. by the time you were done, kirishima was leaning forward, listening intently, and the tips of your ears were practically on fire from all of the attention he was paying you. he didn't look bored in the slightest. that had to account for something, right? kirishima clapped his hands enthusiastically as you shuffled your index cards back into the correct order and shut your laptop.

"that was so informative, baby! i didn't know any of that stuff!" he encouraged, standing up to step around his desk and pull you into his broad chest. you inhaled his cologne that you loved so much and it made you a little dizzy. you wrapped your arms around his sides and tried to fight the bashful grin on your face even though he couldn't see it.

"you really think so?" your voice is muffled by his chest.

"'course i do. you're the smartest person i know." kirishima backs away a step and hooks his index finger under your chin to make you look up at him. he pecks your lips quickly and all of your nerves momentarily disappear. "can't wait to take you on a real date tonight, either." he grins and you almost balk at forgetting the previously planned engagement.

"are you sure you still wanna go out with me? are you sure you wouldn't rather go out with your friends or...anyone else?" you hated being so insecure, but more than anything, you hated the idea of being an inconvenience. kirishima tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. you nuzzled your face against his hand.

"i've been planning tonight for an entire month. there's nowhere else i'd rather be than with you this evening after my patrol." he smiles reassuringly at you and your heart swells. he was so good to you.

"thank you. y'know, for waiting for me and everything." you hope your words convey your feelings. there comes a knock at the door. a sidekick around your age, already dressed out in their gear, sticks their head through the door.

"it's almost time to go, mr. riot." the sidekick's eyes dart between you and kirishima. eijirou lets out a good-natured sigh.

"i've already told you, it's okay to just use my name." the sidekick nods dutifully.

"of course, mr. riot! i'll be waiting for you downstairs." he casts another quick glance between the two of you before retreating and shutting the door. there's a dusting of color on kirishima's cheeks when you look up at him. you grin like a lovesick puppy up at him, having never seen him interact with his colleagues before. you pull him into an easy hug.

"they just don't listen to me," he mumbles into your hair and you giggle before checking your watch. your eyes grow wide seeing the time.

"shit, i gotta go!" you exclaim-the moment over and jump over to kirishima's desk. you pack your laptop away quickly. you throw your bag over your shoulder and bound for the door, stop to think for a moment, turn around, and give eijirou a quick kiss before exiting.

hours later, you're back in your tiny apartment after finishing your presentation on campus and running errands and you're just relaxing for a minute before you start getting ready for your date (!!!) with kirishima. you're lounging on your bed in a robe and a soothing face mask when your phone chirps on your nightstand with a reminder that you have an extra credit quiz due at five. the notification sends you into overdrive because it's already four and you had a whole extensive hours-long get ready routine planned for your date and you didn't even really need to take the extra credit quiz, but what was the point in being so uptight about your education if you weren't going to take every option available to you?

so you start racing around and grab your class notes and your laptop and zoom through your quiz and manage to elaborate and remember all the facts for the essay questions better than you thought you did!! you manage to turn your quiz in just in time and you take a deep breath and start laying out your outfit for your date that consists of stuff that kirishima helped you pick out when y’all were shopping together. he wanted to take you out to a nice restaurant (much better than the one you worked at) because that “was the respectable thing to do." you finally are able to shower and do your hair and makeup and the whole process is really relaxing which really helps with your nerves, but it's also a good way to pamper yourself after the stress of finals.

too quickly, the time comes and kirishima is knocking on your door and you’re trying to run to answer the door and put your heels on at the same time and you end up falling over onto your washing machine and making a huge crashing sound and when you go to open the door, kirishima is standing there with a look of concern on his face and you’re just like “p l e a s e just give me five minutes” and he smirks like the absolute little rascal that he is and follows you into your apartment and he looks around at everything while you finish getting ready without tearing the whole place down. kirishima takes note that you have a ton of plants in your kitchen placed on the window sills and on the kitchen sink and he thinks it's really cute but he notices some of the plant leaves are ~crispy~ and the soil is kinda dry so he takes a cup and starts watering them while he waits for you.

finally, after about ten minutes, he hears your bedroom door open and you come out and see him watering your plants and you're just standing there with heart eyes (also because he looks fucking good with his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows). then he turns to look at you and he's also mega heart eyes and he tells you that you look pretty as he dusts soil off of his hands and goes over to greet you properly and give you a warm kiss on the cheek.

after that, he drives the two of you to dinner through the crowded nighttime streets and he holds your hand the whole time and there isn't much conversation on the ride there but you just can't take your eyes off of your intertwined fingers. you thought your heart might have been ready to bust when he rubbed his thumb over the tops of your fingers.

when you get to the restaurant, the hostess goes to seat the two of you and you pull kirishima along behind you by the hand and it's such a small thing that you do but he loves it for some reason. dinner passes all too quickly between eating and talking about your respective days and you end up accidentally going too far in-depth about beatniks and abie hoffman and yippies and the effect that guerilla theatre had on the american counterculture movement (which are all points you didn't have time to hit on in your presentation) but kirishima doesn't mind even though he can't focus all that well on what you're talking about because he's too busy congratulating himself on buying you an outfit that looks that good on you.

but then kirishima's feeling a little guilty because you're asking him if he's ever read "howl" since it's a masterpiece even though you're inwardly cringing at how annoying you sound but you're only doing it to get your mind off of kissing kirishima and running your hands through his stupid hair.

after dinner, eijirou drops you back off at your apartment and walks you to the door because honestly it's kind of a sketchy part of town and he's a gentleman. he kisses you goodnight and then a second time and then a third time and before you know it-before your mind has time to catch up with your tongue-you're inviting him in for ice cream. you don't know what you're doing, not exactly, but you don't have time to think anything through before you're standing in front of your coffee table with him sprawled out on the couch behind you. you're desperately trying to get your tv to work to no avail. honestly, the little tv you had was well past its prime and on its last legs, but it had been with you since freshman year and even though the stand it sat on was broken and even though the roku attachment you had for it only worked some of the time, you were attached to it. you didn't see the point in replacing something as long as it still worked well enough. eijirou chuckled behind you.

"just let me buy you a new one." as soon as he spoke, the screen sprang to life playing the last show that you were watching.

"there's no need for that! it works just fine." you grinned down at him, handed him the remote, and placed your phone on the table before going back into the kitchen to get the ice cream that you weren't even hungry for. you just wanted eijirou to hang around for a little longer.

you dug around in your freezer and found the ice cream that you had squirreled away. deciding against bowls, you were scrounging around in your silverware drawer for two clean spoons when you heard your phone ringing from the coffee table.

"hey, can you see who that is?" you called over your shoulder to eijirou as you slid the drawer closed with your hip. the ringing stopped, and too late, you realized what time it was. you watched in mild horror as kirishima cleared his throat and held the phone closer to his face.

"the notification says 'don't forget to take your birth control, you dumb hormonal bitch.'" he pauses to look over at you from the couch, a look of amusement on his face. you're only slightly mortified. "do you want me to snooze that?"

"yeah." you disappear momentarily into your bedroom and take your medicine. you reappear quickly and grab your snack and waltz over to the couch, hoping that the embarrassing interlude will soon be forgotten. you put the ice cream and spoons down on the table and feel eijirou pulling at your hand. you turn around slightly to see what he wants and he pulls you down.

you straddle his lap and his arms wrap around your waist wantonly. you feel your heartbeat quicken when he looks up at you with a lazy smirk on his face.

"i, uh, like your phone lock screen." he lets out a full chuckle then and you wonder briefly if there are any large rocks around for you to hide under.

"i was gonna change it," you pout and start to lean back to grab your phone. eijirou pulls you closer to him instead.

"don't. i like it. that was one of my first magazine covers." his lips flutter against your jaw.

"i know." you gush. "you were really handsome."

"were?" he fakes being taken aback.

"you know what i mean, eiji." your crimson nails come to scrape lightly over his hard chest passively and kirishima grabs your fingers lightly, looking at your nails in the soft glow of the television light. a little smile flashes over his face.

“when’d you get your nails done?”

“today, after my final,” you answer, recalling how you had picked the color, thinking of it as a small, unobtrusive way to show that you were his.

“i like them.” he presses light kisses to the pads of your fingers and your eyes flutter shut, humming at the simple affection.

“it’s a little dumb.” you blush and you feel kirishima’s thumb on your chin, pulling your head down to look at him.

“i don’t think so.” he says with nothing but sincerity in his eyes and if you weren’t already completely smitten beforehand, that was enough to do it.

instead of responding to him verbally, you reach down to kiss him. kirishima’s head is lazily propped up on the back of the couch. his hands tangle in your hair and your lips start to move against him more fervently. the kisses are full of heat and saliva but you’re so entranced by it and the feeling of your chest closely pressed to his that it’s a complete surprise when you feel kirishima’s sharp teeth biting down on your bottom lip. when you open your mouth involuntarily, his tongue slides into your mouth and you revel in the way it makes your stomach knot up nicely.

your hands slide down easily over his torso and through the fabric of his shirt, you can feel his defined abs constricting underneath your touch. you inhale sharply against his mouth and fight the meek feeling that comes over you when eijirou smirks against your lips. he follows your lead and traces a finger down from your jaw to the deep neckline of the dress that you wore. he ran his finger over the length of the seam until he reached one of your shoulders and pulled downwards until the whole expanse of skin was exposed. eijirou cranes his neck forward to place feather light kisses against your skin and your breath hitches in your throat at the contact. he sits back to look at you and your run your fingers through the front of his hair. he doesn't break eye contact with you as he pulls your dress down all the way to your waist, exposing your bra to him. you can't tell if your skin prickles from the cool air or his hungry gaze.

eijirou's warm hands ghost over your shoulders and chest. in the space of a blink, your back is pressed against the couch and he's sliding your dress down your legs and tossing it to the side. he takes a moment to caress up and down your smooth skin and there's no room to be self-conscious under his gaze any longer. he settles down against the cradle of your body, one strong arm holding him up by your head, and then he's lavishing every inch of your skin with searing kisses that you think might mark you for all to see. not that you would mind. as he works, you busy yourself with undoing the buttons of his shirt. it's not a hard task by any means, but it's hard to focus with all the attention that he's giving you. finally, you unbutton enough of his shirt to where your hands are only centimeters away from the top of his slacks and you start tugging to free the fabric tucked into his pants. eijirou adjusts himself to assist you in tugging his shirt off and when he does, your hand brushes only slightly against his length. how hard he is doesn't surprise you, not really, but what does is the amount. your lips part slightly in awe as you rub the flat palm of your hand up and down his cock. his forehead falls against your shoulder. his free hand moves between your two bodies to pull your hand away from him.

"you gotta stop that, baby." he growls against the shell of your ear and then he's nipping at your earlobe.

"why?" you're all innocence, looking at him with wide eyes.

"you're gonna make me cum in my pants." your heart skips a beat at the way he says it and then your eyebrows knit together in concentration as your hand moves down his body again. you hear him suck in a breath as he bites at your skin in warning.

"gonna cum for me so easy, big guy?" you pout your lips at eijirou to mock him, but your insides are all twisted up from the surge of power you feel. you can feel your own arousal starting to stick to your underwear. you hear a strained, impatient growl against your neck once more and then his hands are yanking yours away with force. a giggle bubbles out of your throat and is blotted out quickly by your panties being pushed to the side and his finger coming to circle roughly around your clit. your back arches, pressing you further into his touch, and it's eijirou's turn to chuckle now. with his free hand, he paws at one of your breasts through your bra.

"are we gonna do...this...with jurassic park playing in the background?" you whisper, a little amused and a little breathless, against eijirou's lips.

"it's actually the second one. the dinosaurs are cooler." he grins, showing off his sharp teeth and that's all it takes for you to pull him into a kiss again. jurassic park or not, you needed this man worse than anything. he pulls his hand out of your underwear and admires how your slick catches the light from the screen a few feet away. he sits up, popping his fingers into his mouth and starts unbuttoning his pants. you moan at the sight and scoot up so you're resting against the arm rest of the couch. eijirou removes his fingers from his mouth and stands up. he's dressed only in his boxers now and if you really wanted to, you could drool at the sight of him.

"come on, now." he bends over you, scooping you up with his arms circling around your waist and he pulls upwards. understanding, you wrap your legs around his middle and he bounces your body up against yours to situate you closer to him. he kisses you gently, lips molding to the shape of yours. you lose yourself in the embrace momentarily and wrap your legs tighter around him, intoxicated by the way eijirou's body feels against yours. he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. both of you breath heavily. he treks around the edge of the couch and into the kitchen and you're leaving butterfly kisses against the planes of his face. abruptly, he stumbles and you clutch onto him harder, eyes shut and ready to feel the both of you crash into the floor, but instead, you just end up pressed roughly into the refrigerator.

"oops." there comes a consoling kiss at your lips. then one against the smooth, sensitive skin of your neck. then one right above where your heart is. one of eijirou's hands is travelling up your back to the clasp of your bra and undoing it. you pull the straps down your arms and toss it away. he bows his head lower and licks along the swell of your breasts until he can pull a nipple into his mouth. he rolls the sensitive skin gently between his teeth and kneads the other one with the pads of his thumb and forefinger. your head lolls back as far as it can. you can feel eijirou's length pressed hard against you as he explores. you roll your hips down into him. his breath stutters against your skin. you feel him moving your panties to the side with the hand currently situated against your ass. you squirm. he peers at you with a dark gaze, too close to your face to be friendly.

"wanna fuck you right here." he begs.

"think of all the sauces that'll give their lives that i might get laid if you break my fridge."

"fine." he huffs patiently. you tighten your hold around him and press a sloppy kiss against his neck as eijirou continues on the pilgrimage to your bedroom.

he tosses you gently onto your bed and you lay on your stomach, pulling him to you with an outstretched hand. no words transpire between the two of you as you tug him close to stand at the foot of your bed. your hands dip into his boxers and the first thing that you feel isn't him, but the heat radiating off of his cock. you swallow thickly and wrap your hand around his length, slowly freeing him from the fabric. precum leaks from the head of his impossibly hard cock. you run the very tip of your finger over his slit and he shudders. you scoot up, bringing your head forward.

“oh fuck, that’s my good girl.” kirishima groans, hand guiding your head when you first try to take him all in your mouth. you’re only about half of the way down his shaft and his cock is already pressing against the back of your throat and you stay there for a second, willing yourself to take more of him. letting out a huff through your nose, you pull off of his shaft with a pop and start giving kitten licks to his head again before sinking your mouth back down again, this time being able to take his dick a little farther before you’re absolutely gagging. eijirou’s grip on your hair tightens and you wrap one of your hands around the base of him and stroke in time with your mouth. your gaze fixates on him from your laid-out position on your bed and you revel in the view of him with his head rolled back and the vein in his jaw twitching. you wiggle your hips side to side subtly and try to gain some relief from the desire that you feel puddling between your legs. you can feel his cock twitching in your mouth. you take him far down your throat again and he whines out, looking back down and meeting your darkened eyes.

"makin' me feel so good, goddamn." eijirou swears and notices you wiggling your hips and bends forward slightly to grab onto the fat of your ass. he palms the flesh there once, twice, before becoming so enthralled with the sight that he loses control of himself and is pressing harder down your throat than you can handle, causing you to choke a bit and startle him back to reality. he pulls back, grinning at you sheepishly, and swats at your asscheek lovingly. you whimper at the barely-there sting. he pulls back from your mouth. you sit up, cross your legs, and almost pout. all you want is skin to skin contact-to have eijirou fill you full. he notices your displeased look and the crease between your brow. it’s hard not to purr at the sight of him standing there, lazily fisting his cock.

“what’s wrong?“ his eyes are barely open and his breathing isn’t even when your hand replaces his, slowly stroking up and down. he’s so thick that your hand can barely wrap around his girth and your mouth waters.

“want you to fuck me now.” you bite down on your bottom lip nervously.

“i was gettin’ there.” he smiles and runs a finger down the side of your face.

“no.” you find your voice and put some backbone into it. “want you to fuck me right now.” eijirou’s eyes widen at the urgency in your tone. “needed it for so long.” you add on almost in a whisper.

“i thought you wanted for us to wait until the semester was over?” he recalls an earlier conversation the two of you had weeks earlier when making out had almost gotten too heavy.

“i did and now it’s over and now i need you, eiji.” you’re almost in tears at the desire and emotions running through you. you looked up into his cherry eyes and saw a lovesick mountain of a man looking back down at you. your hand stilled against his length and came to rest in your lap. you fought the violent urge to run your index finger through the slick pooling between your legs.

"so that's why you're bein' so hard to get along with, huh?" he coos. you feel his sturdy hands pushing you back into the smooth surface of your comforter and eijirou’s body covers your own. he left searing kisses down your jaw and the slight curve of your neck. you wrap your legs around him and play with the stray hairs at the nape of his neck in response. the contact is charged, laced with need and want. you're realizing at that moment that it's not enough. the lingering taste of him on your tongue is enough to motivate you into wiggling out from underneath him. he turns on his side, head coming to rest on his hand and stare at you in amusement. your sudden inability to be satisfied is amusing to him.

you push at his upper body and he follows where you lead him until he's laying flat on his back and staring up at you with lust filled eyes. you swing a leg over his waist so you're straddling him and you roll your slit against his length.

"fuck," you pant out and he grips your hips hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises. eijirou cants his hips up to meet yours. you brace your arms against his chest and arch your back and momentarily chase your own high. you know that he's doing the same exact thing as he works his boxers the rest of the way down his legs. he pulls your torso down until it's flush against his and he has easy access to whisper in your ear.

"you still sure you want it this bad?" you nod against his forehead. he pulls your panties to the side.

eijirou has a hold of your hips as you line him up with your entrance. slowly, you start to lower yourself onto him and you hiss out as his cock journeys through your folds and pushes into you. eijirou cups your face in his hands and pushes your hair out your face. you can feel his breathing growing ragged underneath you. you lower yourself imperceptibly lower onto him. your breath catches in your throat. the stretch is almost too much.

you pause a moment and try to gather yourself. having eijirou filling you this full already felt so good but there was also the pain coupled with it. you try to push through it and manage to work yourself down about halfway before his thumb is circling your clit and his free hand is guiding you up and down. you can't even think, the feeling is so heavy and pervasive, but you're sure that nothing had ever felt as good as this. you tune into eijirou's pants and heavy breathing underneath you. gently, he's rocking his hips up to meet yours and it feels exponentially, if that was even possible, better than what you were doing. your arms turn to jelly and give out and you collapse onto his broad chest.

"wan' you to do it, feels better that way." you mumble into the empty space in the crook of his neck. his arm wrap tighter around your middle and you feel his dick twitch against your fluttering walls. if it feels this good now, you dare not even imagine what cumming feels like with him buried in you.

"gonna make you feel so good, baby." his hand strokes down your neck and he rolls his hips gently but slips further inside of you. you cry out when he hits a spot inside of you that hasn't ever been touched before. you babble out something incoherent and he repeats the action. your crimson fingernails curl violently into his chest and you register his sharp intake of breath but you just don't care as he keeps hitting the same spot inside of you over and over again. you feel like something inside of you is on the verge of breaking.

all you're capable of focusing on is the heavy drag of his cock in and out of your walls as he pounds up into you with little mercy. little white, twinkling spots are coating your vision as you nip harshly at the skin of his neck. abruptly, you're arching your back and calling out eijirou's name as a thick wave of warmth floods over you. his thrusts stutter briefly as you clamp down hard on his cock but then he's drilling into even faster and harder than before and you're only able to screw your eyes shut and babble his name over and over again at the new sensation you're feeling.

it might have been minutes or seconds that passed, but eijirou finally, mercilessly, buries himself to the hilt inside of you and lets out a deep groan. you feel him coating your insides with thick and hot spurts of his cum and you let out a squeak at the feeling. his hips finally still and you both lay there, panting, with eijirou still hard and buried deep in you. he kisses your cheek sweetly and leaves a stripe of sweat on your temple from his forehead.

"wanna do more of that." you have trouble speaking, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth.

"well, lucky for you, we have all summer until you go to grad school."

#reader is just like me fr because i can and WILL talk ur ear off about beat poetry #i didn't go $20000 in debt for nothing babey #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #kirishima imagine #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha smut #kirishima eijirou x reader #dilf!kirishima #older!kirishima #kiri smut #jeni writes

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garbagevanfleet · 2 years

Text

ABADDON (series)

PART TEN AND A HALF

Pairing: Josh x female!reader

Word Count: 6.5k words in this chapter

Summary: After a near-fatal accident that put one of your best friends into a seemingly endless coma, you’re feeling a little lost and hopeless. But are you desperate enough to do something reckless?

WARNINGS: (in this chapter) EXPLICT SEXUAL CONTENT!!!! 18+ ONLY. mentions of alcohol, mentions of hard drugs.

Editing and moodboard by the incredibly talented Erin ( @gardenvanfleet )

MASTERPOST

Playlist

He remains in the same outfit, but he takes you back to the room so you can change- well, so he can change you himself. The pearl top he had you in was quite fitted, and he’s careful to make an experience of it as he peels it off of you. He meets your eyes as he unclasps the band of your pants and works them down your legs.

“This trip to the club is going to be a little different,” he states, low in volume and register. “We like to really celebrate after a job well done.”

You blink at him a couple of times. “I’m not sure how much more thoroughly you could celebrate - are we talking heavy drugs, or...?” Since you’re not sure whether that’s a stupid assumption, you let the thought trail off.

He nods in amusement, “Definitely, but that’s kind of every night.”

Once he has your outer layer off, he works on your bra next, unsnapping it in the back and slipping the straps down your shoulders. He hands you a silky, little black skirt and gestures for you to put it on. It fits snugly on your body, even with the slit that runs up the side.

The corset he holds up for you is different than the one he’s wearing. It appears that his is just more of a firm, white vest - it covers his whole chest and shoulders but leaves his arms and stomach exposed. Yours has significantly less material - the straps are pretty thin, the bottom hem ends just before the thinnest part of your waist, and the top dips low on your chest so you get a perfect view of your cleavage in the mirror as he laces it up the back.

Lastly, he bends to his knees, much like the rows of humans had done for him just minutes earlier - though, he at least has some soft carpet for cushion. He helps you slip into a pair of thigh-high boots and nips into the meat of your leg as he zips them up. You don’t even bother feeling embarrassed about it as you wrap your fingers through his hair and tug at it, making him sink his teeth in a bit further with a groan.

Using his curls like reigns, you situate him until he’s trapped between you and the side of the mattress - the position makes his eyes flick white for a brief second. He’s speaking directly into your inner thigh when he says, “I love this energy, bunny - I do. But, you’ll have to save it - we’re going to be late.”

When you get down to the car, he starts pulling jewelry from his pockets and laying it in your lap, so you put it on slowly as he drives you to the venue.

You love the sound of the heels of your boots hitting the pavement as you make your way up the sidewalk - there’s something about it that feels sexy and powerful - so, you’re already smiling as he opens the door for you and lets you slip in before him.

“Such a gentleman, all of a sudden,” you jest, making sure to brush against him as you pass. There are people standing in the front vestibule, smoking and talking, but they obediently move out of your way when they see him, and even though you know it’s not on your authority, it’s satisfying to leech some of the respect given to him like this.

Everyone you’ve seen so far looks loose and relaxed, but you suppose that’s because they’ve likely been here for a while - you forgot to look at what time it is, but you know it must be well into the night.

He gets you to the dance floor and then swiftly pulls you flush to him. The force of it draws a moan from your throat that makes him hum, obviously pleased by the sound. His thigh slots in between your legs as you start to dance with him, and you know in your heart that it’s intentional when he slips you against it. The spark of heat sucks the breath right from your lungs, and you chase the feeling by trying to repeat the movement. To your surprise, he not only allows it but helps you by wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking you down against him. Since you’re not moving in time with the beat of the song, you can’t really pretend like you’re dancing with him anymore, so you just sling your arms around the back of his neck and bury your face into his shoulder. In this position, he’s able to turn his head and press his lips directly to the shell of your ear, and while doing so, he breathes your name, your real name. He hasn’t called you by it for quite a while, so it’s almost a little unsettling in a way that it shouldn’t be.

“I have something I wanna ask you.”

“Go ahead,” you allow, though it’s a little whiny as you grind yourself onto his thigh again.

“You want me right now?” he purrs against your skin, threading his fingers up through your hair.

You nod without hesitation. “So much.”

“Can I show you something?” he asks. It barely even registers before you’re nodding - in your current state, you think you’d agree to just about anything if it meant taking this moment a little further.

“C’mon.” He lets you go and takes your hand in his, leading you back through the crowd towards the entrance.

You’re getting kind of excited, thinking he’s about to take you to the car - either to fuck you there or take you back to the hotel, but he doesn’t. He brings you to a stop in the middle of the long hall, and you glance into the red pool room on your right.

“Are we going swimming?” you ask, not sure whether or not it sounds pleasant at that moment.

He shakes his head, giving you a smile. “No, baby. We’re not.”

There’s a door on his left - the one that’s always been closed every time you’ve gone past it. You had just assumed it was a utility closet or something, and you guess perhaps it is. Maybe you’re about to have dirty closet sex. As he places his palm flat against the wood grain, you can hear a lock click on the other side, and suddenly, the door is swinging open.

Just like earlier in the night, at the ceremony, he pulls you close and says, “Same as before, bunny - if this isn’t something you want, let me know and we’ll leave.”

You give him a concerned look and go to peer around him, but he takes your chin between his fingers to ask, “Understood?”

Realizing that he’s not about to budge until he’s gotten a verbal confirmation from you, you nod in agreement. “Of course.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then moves out of your way, allowing you to step into the room. The second that you’re past the door, your bottom lip pops open - you can feel your face instantly flaming hot as you rake your eyes across the scene.

There are about ten to fifteen people occupying the room, and even though the space isn’t all that big, it doesn’t matter much because most of them are doubled up on top of each other in various states of undress. There’s a couch that stretches across most of the wall to your left, big enough that a woman straddles a sitting man’s lap on one end, and two women are intertwined, lying across the cushions at the other, and there’s still plenty of room in between the couples.

The bed at the far end of the room is massive - you think it could easily fit 5 or more people on it semi-comfortably, which is a good thing because four people are making good use of it, all of them stripped down to their bare flesh. Not a single one of them looks up at you, but it still feels like an invasion of their privacy to let your eyes linger too long, so you try to pry them away.

A huge, fluffy rug takes up a good portion of the open floor, and taking up a good portion of the rug are two faces you recognize. One of them is Stolas - he’s sitting with his legs stretched out and his delicate ankles crossed over one another. He’s wearing a luxurious coat made of thick, black fur, and not much else. In his long, thin fingers, he holds a wine glass that he’s sipping at in between light conversation with the girl sitting next to him, who you recognize as Elise’s partner.

She has her long, auburn hair pulled over one shoulder and you find yourself wanting to know if it’s as soft as it looks. She’s in a piece of lingerie that she’s wearing as a stand-alone piece - it’s a black dress that’s made of just a thin mesh. When she glances up and meets your eyes, she frowns at you slightly like she’s unsure as to why you keep showing up, so you snap your eyes away and train them back on Josh’s face.

You’re about to open your mouth and say something stupid, but you’re saved at the last second by Elise approaching you from behind to stand at your side. She’s holding a champagne flute in each hand, and she holds one out to you in offering while addressing Josh.

“You’re back finally,” she notes through a cherry-red smile that matches her rounded nails. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I’m sure it is,” he agrees, cocky as ever.

She trains her attention back to you and asks, “Were you looking for me on the dancefloor?”

You’re not entirely sure what to say, so you shrug and utter, “Not actively. I mean, maybe a little, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, I’ve been here,” she assures, showing you her teeth, made even whiter than usual in contrast to her bright red lips. “Waiting for you.” She glances at Josh in accusation.

He simply rolls his eyes at her, but it’s more amused than annoyed. “I had to ease her into it. She’s never done this before.”

“How do you know?” You put on a dramatic pout.

“Oh, have you been part of a demon orgy before?” His eyebrows are raised expectantly as his fingers brush your jawline fondly. “Have you been coming to these without me?”

Through a smile that you try to make extra cute for him, you decline by shaking your head.

Elise places her hand on your shoulder and lets her eyes drag down your body. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, I’m told.”

Just to hide the peachy color that’s settling across your cheeks, you lift the glass to your lips. Still, you can’t prevent yourself from checking her out the same way she had to you. As skimpy as your outfit is, hers is even more so.

She’s in a red robe that’s made entirely of lace - the material only reaches the top of her thighs, leaving most of her leg bare and exposed.

“You wanna help me get a couple more glasses?” she asks you (and only you), obviously aware that you’re admiring her form. She gestures behind you to a station of drinks and you nod in agreement.

Josh takes that as his cue to part from you, which you suspect is exactly what she had intended - you’re not sure if that idea makes you excited or anxious. You’re not sure you know the difference anymore either.

As you fall in line with her step, you glance down and catch sight of her heels. They’re the same color as her flesh, but she’s wearing little frilly, white socks under them and you can’t help but find that strangely charming - the perfect mix of sugar-sweet and captivatingly sexy that you’ve come to associate with her.

“Does this happen every time you guys...I don’t know- resurrect a demon?” you ask.

The giggle that leaves her lips is almost melodic in nature. “He really doesn’t tell you anything, huh?”

You smile awkwardly and shake your head. “Sometimes I can pry something out of him, but- Well, let’s just proceed on the assumption that I know even less than you think I do.”

“Okay,” she agrees. “Uhm, yes. This happens after every ceremony, and sometimes it happens just because. This is a smaller crowd than usual - I made sure of that because I was pretty positive he was going to bring you to this one.” She glances at you and her lips tug up at the corners. “And I guess I was right, hm?”

You huff a laugh before she asks, “Is this okay for you? Are you comfortable with this?”

The two of you pause in front of the drinks and face each other so you can talk honestly. After a second, you nod. “So far, yeah. It’s...different. Does he come to many of these?”

She doesn’t need any clarification that you’re talking about Josh. “He used to, but he stopped a little while ago.”

Even though you know he can’t lie to you, it’s strangely relieving to hear her verbally confirm what he’d confessed to you. “And you two...? You seem so close.”

She’s smiling curiously as she asks, “You’re not the jealous type, are you?”

You could easily lie, but instead, you shrug and say, “Not exactly. I mean, I’ve got the same tendencies that everyone has, I think. But it doesn’t bother me as much as I expected it to.”

After a second of chewing that answer over, she pinches your cheek. “You’re so cute - such a cute human.”

First, you cast your eyes down out of embarrassment. Your uneven heartbeat makes you feel jittery - makes you buzz. When you’re able to look back up at her again, she appears to be pretty pleased with herself. She’s wearing a contemplative smirk, taking in your reaction.

From there, it’s like a rubber band. Something snaps in you. You’d been able to contain yourself thus far, but Josh had already gotten you so riled up that the tiny thread of inhibitions that’s been keeping you from making rash choices just dissolves completely upon that compliment.

You tip back your champagne and then let the glass drop to the floor and shatter. As you step towards her to wrap your arms around her neck, the sound of the shards crunching under the weight of your boots raises goosebumps across your skin. Her eyes are open wide, but she’s wearing a pleased smile as you pull her in and plant your mouth firmly against hers.

Elise is a lot more graceful about the way she frees her hands - she places her glass on the table next to you, but in a decision that you find sexy beyond belief, she then reaches out and swipes her arm across the surface, sending each and every glass to the floor to meet the same fate as yours. You were absolutely right - she is a hell of a lot stronger than she looks, which she proves by lifting you up and sitting you on the table without any evidence of an effort on her part.

She places her hands on your knees so she can part them and then slot herself in the new space she’s created. When she leans back in, you think she’s going to kiss you again, but instead, she ducks to connect her mouth to your neck. Her tongue is hot to the touch against your skin, but you note that she doesn’t seem to run as warm as Josh does, but you can’t bring yourself to explore the thought as she sucks the muscle into her mouth and melts you completely.

You wrap your legs around her hips and cross your ankles to cage her in. Up until this moment, you’d been tipping your head back to give her complete reign of your neck, but as you tangle your fingers through her blonde shag, you glance past her and your eyes catch on Josh’s. The way he’s looking at you draws a guttural kind of grown from low in your throat, made worse as she drags her teeth across your skin and the sting of it makes you grind your hips forward.

Josh is sitting next to Stolas on the rug - same exact position, except he looks positively tiny in comparison. His attention is entirely trained on you - all three of them seem to be fixed on you actually. It’s a foreign feeling, but you find that you don’t dislike them admiring the way she’s making a meal of you right now - it has you squirming, but not unpleasantly.

She must be able to sense what you’re thinking, because she whispers into your neck, “You wanna go join them?”

“As long as we can keep doing this, I don’t give a fuck where we are,” you admit breathlessly.

Despite how lewd what she’s doing to you seems, the way she giggles and licks a stripe up your throat makes you blush further. “Of course.”

You’re slid off of the table and onto your own feet so she can walk you backward, a hand on your lower back and one holding your chin as she keeps your eyes on hers. You do your best to stay in step with her, but it’s tough when you can’t see where you’re going, so she has to take on your weight as you stumble over the edge of the rug. She lays you out across the plush surface, straddling you so she can plant her ass on your hips as she starts in on your neck again. Like this, it’s a little easier to grind against her - you hear her place a soft moan against your skin and the sound makes your lashes flutter.

As your reward, she really digs her teeth in, traveling down to where your neck meets your shoulder so she can get plenty of your muscle in her mouth at once.

You glance over to her partner and find her sitting with her knees bent, leaning forward onto them. She’s sipping on some deep red wine, and as she watches you, she taps her black fingernails against the glass to make a pleasing little clinking noise. Fittingly, if you had to name the color of lipstick she’s wearing, you’d call it Merlot.

“That looks like it feels nice,” she notes, and in your hazy state, you imagine her voice as warm maple syrup. She’s got an accent - a southern one, you think, but you can’t be sure with the way your brain is currently smeared across the floor.

“What’s your name?” you ask, or at least, you think you do. The more you think about it, the less sure you become that you didn’t just open your mouth and whine unintelligibly.

Either you were able to accurately portray the question, or she can read minds because she huffs a laugh and informs you that her name is Louise. You open your mouth to tell her your name in return, but all that comes out is a shaky breath as Elise drags her tongue across your cleavage.

“C’mere,” Josh says, slipping his hands under your shoulders and sitting you up. His fingers gently start to slip the laces on your corset, and instantly, you can feel some relief from it. “Let’s get you out of this - give her more to work with.”

She waits for only a second or two before she gets impatient and rolls her eyes. “You wanna hurry up with that?”

You’re facing away from him, so you can’t see it, but you assume he gives her a rather menacing look because she obediently plants herself on your thighs when he informs her, “She’s worth waiting for.”

When he’s finally able to slip your top off, you have to fight the instinct to cover yourself - instead, before he can go too far, you reach up over your shoulder and wrap your fingers through his curls. You draw him closer, turning your head so he can kiss your lips as Elise grabs for one of your tits.

Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the sound of someone working open the clasps on Josh’s corset too, and you wish you could watch - you decide that you’ll make him put it back on some time so you can have the privilege.

He’s barely even speaking - more just breathing when he asks, “Are you enjoying yourself? Or do you wanna go?”

The tone of it is teasing - it certainly isn’t a secret that you’re feeling good, especially not when Elise flicks the tip of her tongue across your nipple and it makes you whimper. Still, you realize that he’ll be expecting a response, so you peck a kiss to his cheek before speaking. “You couldn’t drag me away from this if you tried.”

He hums amusedly, pleased by the answer. You don’t even miss him that much when he pulls back away from you - or, is pulled, perhaps. Especially not because Elise is back to trailing wet kisses down your throat, across the expanse of your chest, and then between your breasts. She careens into the touch when you scratch your nails over her scalp.

Her eyes flick up at you as she slips her fingers under the band of your skirt, and you can tell she’s thoroughly enjoying having to peel it off of you. You tell yourself that you’re shimmying to help her with the process, but both of you are aware that it’s mostly to really showcase every curve for her, which you think she appreciates if her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip is anything to consider.

Since she has to sit up completely to slide the garment down your thighs, you get a perfect chance to take in the fact that her lipstick is smeared across her cheek and down her chin. Then, it occurs to you to glance down to find that there are cherry red lip prints across your collarbones and chest.

“It suits you,” she compliments teasingly, shifting so she can slip your skirt completely off. You place your fingers on your lips and find that they, too, are cherry red.

You smirk at her, sitting up, grabbing the silky tie on her robe, and pulling it loose. “I think you might be right.”

She holds the fabric at her chest but lets the lace slip down her arms, but after giving you a cheeky smile, she lets it drop to reveal that’s wearing exactly nothing underneath. Despite what you’ve been up to for a good fifteen minutes now, you find your face running hot upon seeing the body of a naked woman - right there, in person.

She snickers at you and then runs her fingers along the curves of her breasts. “You can touch me,” she informs with a nod, graciously answering the question you’re too embarrassed to ask. She’s even kind enough to grab your hands and place them on her chest for you - then, she takes your chin between her thumb and forefinger and kisses you again, slipping her tongue past your lips.

The hum that she places directly into your mouth is of the dreamy sort as you experimentally pinch one of her nipples between your fingers, and you suddenly realize that you want to see what it feels like in your mouth badly enough that you’d kill a man for it. You break the kiss to duck down and run your tongue around it before sucking it past your lips - in response, she grabs a chunk of your hair and presses you closer to her as she breathes a pleased sigh through her nostrils.

She tucks her nose into the crown of your head and murmurs, “You’re a natural, babe.” As the praise hits your ears, you finally have a complex understanding of why Josh goes feral for it. You decide it’s safe to place your other hand on her waist, and when nothing bad happens, you risk sliding it down to grab a handful of her ass. Just for fun, you squish it in your fingers and imagine the soft flesh as bread dough - the thought makes you smile around her breast.

“As nice as this feels,” she starts, using her hold on your hair to detach you from her. “I’d like this to be about you.”

Your expression is uncontrolled enough to slip into something forlorn, causing her to giggle at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m pretty sure this won’t be the only time we get wrapped up together like this. Or, at least, I hope not.”

You nod eagerly and she gives you a fond smile and then guides you back down so she can unzip and slip off your boots. Once you’re laying, you let your head loll to the side to find that Josh’s face is right next to yours. His dark lashes are fluttering, but you know he sees you because he makes eye contact and gives you a weak smile as best he can while sucking in deep, shaky breaths.

When you get curious enough, you tip your chin all the way up and catch the general shape of Stolas with Josh’s cock in his mouth. You’re already about to moan at how untethered that thought makes you when Elise slips your panties to the side and runs her fingers over your super-heated skin - you couldn’t hold back a squeak if you’d tried.

Your clit is already beyond ready from grinding it against Josh’s leg earlier, so all it takes is the lightest touch to have your hips bucking up, completely out of your control.

“Ooh, sensitive, are we?” she teases, her voice - usually bright and cheery - has taken on a delicious rasp. She licks her pointer finger and then uses just the pad of it to rub circles over your clit, applying next to no pressure. You want to grind into it, but you find that your hips are locked to the floor - just like Josh does to you. But, all it takes is one glance up at her smirking cherry lips to know he’s not responsible for your restraints this time.

Next, she decides to try tapping on it, and even though it’s as gentle as can be, it still sends shockwaves down both of your legs, all the way to your toes. You jolt and let a whine slip out that causes Josh to hum pleasantly - he wraps his forearms around your throat so he can stroke your face.

It’s his eyes that you’re staring into as Elise slips the tip of her tongue along your skin, and when she gets to your clit, she sucks it past her lips. It’s so intense that you can’t even make a noise - all you can really do is stare at Josh, slack jawed.

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss you even though the angle is awkward. Just before he can, however, he’s being dragged away from you, and it must take him by surprise because his eyes pop open wide in shock as he leaves your line of sight.

You swear to god you’d worry about him if you could think straight but you can’t even help yourself other than to bury your fingers in her blonde shag as she laps against you. Letting your eyes slip closed, you try to just focus on the feeling - you try to picture what she’s doing. When the image comes to mind, your body raises like a wave.

You’re not sure whether it was a conscious decision on Elise’s part to release her hold on your hips, but all you can think about is Josh teaching you to not waste opportunities. You hold her head in place and then rock against it just the way you like, and you’re rewarded with her fingers. They slip into you - two right off the bat - and it draws a groan from the very bottom of your ribcage.

Behind you, you can hear the wet sounds of them kissing and as much as you want to get just one look at the moment, someone would have to kill you to pull you away from her mouth. Instead, you let your head loll to the side and see Louise, still in her same position and letting her eyes rake over the scene as a whole. You wonder how she could ever be so content to just watch when her girlfriend can turn you into a puddle like this, but when you remember that she probably gets this experience all the time. You tell yourself you’re happy for her.

Half a second later, you’re startled by Josh’s face hanging over yours. He’s panting, but he looks back over his shoulder and he’s wearing a smirk.

“Hey, bunny,” he greets, voice hoarse despite the fact that he hasn’t done any work thus far. You absolutely cannot wait to call him a pillow princess.

You laugh at him, but it’s high pitched and whiny as Elise curls her fingers in you. “Hey, babe.”

He plants his hands on either side of your head and you’re not sure what Stolas is doing to him to make his eyes flicker white like faulty lighting in an old house, but you can imagine. You’re about to open your mouth and say something dirty to him, but you’re struck silent by the sucks in a sharp gasp. As he hangs his head, teeth clenched, his curls fall into your face and you release your grip on Elise so you can comfortingly wrap your hand around the back of his neck.

“Christ, you think you could stretch him first?” Louise asks. You can imagine her eating popcorn while watching the whole display as a kind of morbid entertainment.

“He doesn’t ever wanna be,” you hear Stolas complain, completely out of your line of sight. His voice is so strangely comforting despite the fact that you don’t know him in the slightest.

Just because it feels kind of nice to have a few other people to gang up on Josh with, you add, “That sounds right, actually.”

You’re not even sure Josh is still in the same plane of existence as you anymore though, because he’s got his fingers wrapped in the fluff of the rug so tightly that his knuckles are white. He’s making these tiny little whiny noises as he lays his forehead on yours and you can hear his breathing shudder.

You want to inquire whether or not he’s okay, but your thought process is suddenly crashing as Elise slings your legs over her shoulders, pushing her fingers in further as she works them in and out. She’s rolling her tongue against your clit, over and over and the heat that it’s spreading through your circulatory system is making your toes curl under.

There’s a tingly tightening in the very pit of your stomach that becomes almost unbearable the closer you get to orgasm. When she wraps her free hand around your hip and digs her cherry red nails into the meat of your thigh that almost pushes you over the edge. You’re not sure why - it definitely hurts, but in a way that’s so foreignly pleasant.

On either side of your head, Josh’s grip in the rug grows impossibly tighter until you can hear the fibers starting to rip from the padding. He lifts his forehead from yours, his curls bouncing with each thrust forward. All it takes is a rough growl from his tightly grit teeth to make you come undone completely.

It washes over you so intensely that you don’t even think about it before you reach up and grip his hair, pulling his forehead back to yours as you whine at the back of your throat. You can feel your muscles contracting in orgasm around her fingers, and your hips rock against her face on their own to ride out the sensation as long as you can.

When you finally come out the other side, you run your fingers through Elise’s hair. You can feel her chin laying on your stomach, and the sound of her humming in contentment. Once you’re able to force your eyes open, you find that Josh’s are entirely whited out - though, whether that’s the demon thing coming through or they’re just rolled back in ecstasy is another question entirely.

He looks so fragile like this that you have to brush your fingers across his cheek. Once you feel his flame-touched skin, you pull his face closer to yours until you can brush your noses together. You can tell he wants to be present with you by the way he nuzzles into your touch, but he’s too deep into the throws of it to crawl his way out. The sound he makes is so whiny in his desperation that it softens you to him further. You cup his cheek as his breathing starts to turn to gasping pants, and he turns his face to bury his mouth against your hand. You think he’s going to kiss it, but instead, he bares his teeth and sinks them into the meat of your palm, making you squeal. It doesn’t break the skin, and it’s not terribly painful, but it makes you squeal because it thoroughly takes you off guard. Like an apology, he drags his tongue over the area, but it’s barely half-hearted due to the state he’s in.

He groans a curse as Stolas snakes a hand up his back to grip a clump of his hair.

“Pai, I’m gonna come,” he breathes.

Josh’s eyes flutter open but he isn’t looking at anything in particular. Through an expression so intense you could almost call it a snear, he spits, “Do it, then.”

Since he seems to be slightly more lucid, you think it’s safe to grab his face with both hands and make sure you have his eyes as the speed of Stolas’ thrusts quickens. You’re filled with a kind of wonder as you watch Josh’s lips part - you can hear him getting slammed back onto Stolas’ hips.

You had thought it would be the other way around, but it’s Josh that comes first, letting out a choked whine as he buries his nose into your temple. His fingers are twitching against the fur of the rug as he whimpers as the high swallows him up.

Elise is giggling under her breath in delight and it sounds sweet like a melody. If you’re being honest, you’ve been so consumed with watching the show going on right before your eyes that you’d kind of forgotten about her. Now, you reach down and scratch over her scalp again - it must feel good, because she turns her head and nuzzles into your stomach pleasantly.

With your other hand, you hold Josh’s face close to yours, rubbing your fingers along his jawline in little circles for comfort as Stolas slips out of him and strokes himself off onto Josh’s back with a shuddering breath.

It takes Josh a couple of minutes before he’s really come to again, and by then, he’s laying face down on the rug next to you and the room is entirely clear of everyone but your little group.

You stay by his side until he finally lifts his head and huffs an exhausted laugh.

“Fuck,” he rasps, rubbing over his face. Elise is sitting on the very edge of bed, just a tiny sliver of her ass perched on it as she talks animatedly with Stolas, who’s leisurely leaned back against the footboard of it. He’s got a fond smile on his pinkened lips and a glass of wine in his hand.

Louise is listening, seemingly content with the situation as a whole. She’s got her chin rested on her bent knees and her long hair is now up in an intricate-looking updo. You wonder if she took the time to do that while all the rest of you were so preoccupied. You can imagine her fingers separating the strands and twisting them together like it’s second nature.

She’s wearing a tiny smile as she quips something at Elise, who in turn, leans down and catches her lips in an affectionate kiss.

“Are you alright, babe?” you ask Josh, through a smile because you already know the answer.

He hums and pushes himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, I could use a shower. How about you?”

“That sounds heavenly,” you agree. Despite the fact that he’s just taken ten times the beating you have, he clambers to his feet so he can help you up. “Do I have to put back on this corset and shit?”

“No,” he laughs as he starts leading you towards the door, but you try to resist because you’re still completely nude. “C’mon.”

“Josh, I’m not going out into that club naked,” you try to say, but it turns more to a squeal as he tugs you into the hallway anyway. You scramble to cover yourself until you realize that you’re not at the club anymore at all.

Bug is sitting on the end of your bed, all his legs tucked under him as he blinks in uncertainty. You have to giggle as he tries to peek around the two of you to make sense of where you’ve just come from. You pace to the bed to peck a kiss between his ears as you hear Josh starting the shower.

It’s late into the night now, and you’re undeniably tired from the day’s activities, but that doesn’t stop you from obediently making your way to him when he calls. You know full well that by stepping under the spray, you’re making a commitment to at least an hour of drip drying your hair after, but you can’t resist when you peer into the glass and see the hot water running down his chest.

Once you step in, he pulls you close to him so he can press a kiss to your cheek. He’s smirking as he informs you, “You’re covered in lipstick.”

He reaches for a washcloth and gently wipes around your mouth, then moves down your neck and to your chest. He tips his head back and laughs because, just when he thinks he’s gotten it all, he realizes that the smudges trail lower and lower. When he feels like you’re all clean, he lets the cloth drop to the floor and then wraps his arms around you.

“Did you have a nice time?” he asks, seemingly looking for a genuine answer.

You can feel yourself blushing deeply as you let out a jittery laugh. “Yeah, you’ve really learned how to live. That was a lot of fun.”

Obviously pleased, he bites his bottom lip in a smirk. “It’s amazing how nice life can be right? Stick around and you might really learn a thing or two.”

You hum in agreement and lean in for a kiss - right before your lips meet his, you reply, “I’m planning on it.”

A/N: thanks for all the likes, reblogs, comments, and tags. i read them all and love them dearly. if you decide you’d like to show support in a financial way, you can do so here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/garbagevanfleet

Bunny’s outfit by me in Sims 4:

This is close to what I was imagining for Elise’s robe:

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#Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #josh kiszka #josh x reader #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fic #Harry Styles #josh kiszka x harry styles

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 2 years

Photo

“They were expecting to find Miguel Diaz. What they weren’t expecting to find was love.”

Imagining of Season 5 in which Demetri and Eli go on a totally straight and totally heterosexual Dudebro road trip to Mexico to find their best friend. Unfortunately, when you’re trapped in a car with someone for hours on end, you might have to start confronting some feelings you wish weren’t there.

Well, everyone, I caved. I fucking caved. I said so many times that I wasn’t going to write CK fanfiction because GODDAMN if I don’t have too many WIPs in other fandoms, but like. The desire to write a homoerotic road trip fic was just too damn much.

I’ve never tried formally writing these two before, so I have no idea if it’s any good, but GOD did I try lol. Not much plot here, mostly just Vibes, gay tension, and missing and worrying about Best Boy Miguel!!! Also written partly out of spite because I’m just constantly seeing Miguel/Demetri friendship erasure in the fandom and it’s gotten me HEATED, so now I’m writing about Demetri going off to find Miguel in Mexico and internally monologuing about how worried he is and y’all just gonna have to deal with it. Fun fact: Miguel and Demetri love each other, and I will not hear otherwise under any circumstances :D

Also I can’t believe I’ve been in this fandom over a year and it took fucking writing this fic to realize Demetri has an extremely bad case of generalized anxiety disorder D: Like he worries about every all the time and honestly? Same

Uhhhhh CW for mentions of human trafficking, even if it’s done in jest (they’re teenage boys after all, this is the kinda thing teenage boys joke about lol) and some zesty...physical references, but the sauciest thing they do is make out because I’m asexual and do not wish to write smut XD

Fic is under the cut!!! Be warned, it is a 4k word longboi!!!

EDIT: There is now a sequel here as well!!!

***

“I cannot even begin to tell you how unsafe this is.”

“Uh huh. Go on.”

“I’m serious, Eli! We’re parked out in the middle of nowhere in a desert that never ends and the only signs of civilization are those cars going by on the highway at like 90 miles an hour. This is how people get kidnapped. And used for…I don’t know, human trafficking or something.”

Eli rolls over from where he lies next to Demetri on the car roof, scowling at him. “You think the traffickers are going to want you?”

Demetri scoffs, offended at the implication. “I’ll have you know I am a catch! The hottest girl in school thought so for a while.”

Eli breaks into a smirk. “Didn’t Yasmine like…use you as a beard, dude?”

“That’s not—she’s not—she didn’t—look, it doesn’t count if she didn’t know she was lesbian until after we got together!” Demetri splutters, gesturing vaguely as he attempts to arrive at a point.

“Wouldn’t that make it even worse?”

“Still speaks volumes to my suave disposition that she had no issue appearing to be dating me.”

“I’ll never understand it.” Eli turns away, gaze flicking back up to the stars.

“As I was saying.” Demetri stubbornly goes on. Someone has to knock some sense into Eli Moskowitz—access that logical coding brain he knows is in there somewhere. “Just because we’re a little ways off the main road doesn’t mean someone isn’t going to see us parked out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. They could still come out here, break into the car, and do—well, whatever they want! It’s not like anyone would hear us yelling for help. We should have gotten a motel room.”

Eli snorts. “What, are we throwing hundred dollar bills around like we’re Terry Fucking Silver? It was hard enough mooching enough gas money off my mom. Besides, we know karate. If anyone comes after us, we could take them.”

Demetri rolls his eyes. “Right, my bad. I forgot I’m under the protection of the latest AVT champ.”

“Damn right.”

“I’m holding you to that, by the way. If we get kidnapped, and you can’t fend them off, I’m going to be really mad.”

“Completely understandable.”

A lull passes over the boys. For several moments, there’s no sound but desert wind, the hum of crickets and cicadas, and the sound of distant traffic. They had pulled off onto some dirt service road and driven for a while before they arrived and parked at what Eli decided was “the perfect sleeping spot.”

“I can’t believe you’re not tired,” Eli pipes up. “You’ve been driving like…all day.”

Demetri shrugs, car roof cool against his neck and shoulders. The sweltering daytime heat has long since faded from the metal.

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know when I’d get the chance to stargaze again. It’s kind of hard with all the light pollution. I remember we used to try on your trampoline, and whenever we’d get excited about a particularly bright one, it would turn out to be LAX’s newest outgoing flight.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot more going on out here. Might as well enjoy it.”

Demetri scans over the flickering shape of the Milky Way before stealing a glance over at Eli. He can’t help but smile.

His friend’s eyes are filled with a kind of shameless awe and wonder he hasn’t seen in years. Eli has always been drawn to the sky—day, night, or otherwise. Sometimes in elementary school, when they were all out of game ideas, they would spend recess cloud-watching. Eli would get so wrapped up in it that sometimes when the lunch bell rang, Demetri would have to poke him several times to get his attention. How appropriate that his eventual karate nickname would be bird-related.

He’s beautiful when he’s like this. And right now, it’s particularly aggravating.

Unfortunately, Demetri’s admiration has not gone unnoticed. Eli turns and gives him a disparaging look.

“Dude, why are you staring at me?”

Demetri snorts, trying to sound as scornful as possible. “I was not! Don’t flatter yourself. I just haven’t seen you this relaxed in a while.”

Eli shrugs. “I guess so. Kind of peaceful out here. Nice to get away from all the city noise. Too bad Sensei LaRusso isn’t around to make us do katas or some shit.”

Demetri snickers. “Yeah, I’d like to see him try and meditate in downtown Guadalajara. Or wherever the hell he and Sensei Lawrence are now.”

“You think they made it to Guadalajara already?” Eli whistles. “That is generous, Demetri.”

“Is it really that far?”

“A good 900 miles from here. I would know—my eyes still hurt from staring at the map app all damn day.”

Demetri considers for a moment before nodding.

“You’re right. Sensei Lawrence probably broke the GPS. Somehow.”

“Either that, or he and Sensei LaRusso spent more time arguing over what route to take than actually driving.”

The boys break out laughing, the noise of it heavy in the quiet desert night. Hours of tense driving drain out of Demetri’s body all at once, and suddenly he feels so carefree he could be 7 again.

It isn’t all that different from how they used to be. Laughing at the stupidest shit, making fun of everyone whose life was just as much a mess as theirs, being wrapped up in their own little world. All a constant that had always given Demetri some semblance of security…before junior year, anyways.

Now, he can finally have that security back. Eli isn’t going anywhere, especially not in the middle of the Sonoran desert. What would he do, tie a little bindle to a stick and run off to live in a cactus?

As the laughter dies down, Demetri turns his head back to the stars. It’s not hard to see how Eli could get entranced by them. They’re stunning—silver on black, with the white puffs and clouds of the Milky Way blotched out above distant mountains.

A blinking red light and a distant hum indicates air travelers passing through the area. Demetri chuckles, something distant resurfacing.

“Remember when we were like…9, and we came up with that big, elaborate plan about what we would do if aliens invaded?”

“Sure,” Eli says. “You wanted to fight them off with swords. I didn’t have the heart to tell you that would be stupid.”

“Ah, yes.” Demetri hums thoughtfully. “That was during my Lord of the Rings phase. In my defense, I thought it would look really cool to fence with an alien. I still maintain it would be…well, interesting.”

Eli snickers. “Dude. They’d just blast you in half with a laser gun. It wouldn’t even be a fight.”

Demetri can only scoff. “Who says they have laser guns? Maybe they’re not that technologically advanced!”

“But they can pilot spaceships multiple light years to other planets?! Bullshit. You just wanted to be Aragorn.”

“Who doesn’t want to be Aragorn?!”

“Uh, Gandalf is way cooler, man.”

Demetri snorts again. “Oh, so now we’re going to defeat extraterrestrial invaders with ancient wizardry? Which we’ll acquire where?”

“Still more likely than you learning how to wield a sword properly.”

“How dare you! I used to watch so many YouTube tutorials! Anyways, it’s ambitious to claim you’re Gandalf, Eli. I think you’re more of a Gollum, personally. You know, with the corruption arc and the conniving and scheming and all.”

“Oh, you take that back!”

Eli pounces on him, shoving him hard to the side. Demetri bursts out laughing, sides aching as he slides toward the edge of the car roof.

He starts to slip. He barely has a moment to panic before strong hands are grabbing his arm.

There’s an awkward moment as their eyes meet, Eli’s fingers still fastened around Demetri’s wrist. Demetri slowly lets out his breath, heart starting to pound.

Always best to diffuse the situation, Demetri figures.

He takes his free hand and presses the back of it against his forehead. “Oh, my hero! My brave, brave Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz! You saved me!”

He expects Eli to make a snide comment, but his eyes instead flick around the way they always do when he’s nervous. When he’s caught off-guard.

“It was instinct,” he mutters. “I…should’ve let you faceplant in the dirt, actually. That would’ve been funny.”

The beginnings of a smirk returns, and the moment is lost.

“But you didn’t.” Demetri smiles shrewdly. For Eli, actions have always spoken a little louder than words.

Eli groans. “I’m going to shove you off for real if you don’t wipe that shit-eating look off your face, man.”

“Doubt it.”

Demetri rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing as Eli pulls him the rest of the way up. When they lay down on the roof again, they’re a little closer than before.

“You know…” Demetri chuckles softly. “I’m actually kind of glad Sensei Lawrence and Mr. L didn’t let us tag along.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Eli turns to face him, smirk widening. “You think they would’ve taken a wrong turn and gotten us all lost in Chihuahua?”

Demetri shrugs. “I wouldn’t put it past them. Even Sam couldn’t save them from their own ineptitude.”

“Still can’t believe she persuaded them to let her come,” Eli mumbles.

“Samantha LaRusso is a firecracker. Also probably one of the most stubborn people I know. You’re very lucky I persuaded her to take you off her shitlist.”

“You did?” Eli sounds surprised. “How did that go?”

He shrugs. “Well, she nearly punched me a couple times. But I guess when both your boyfriend and your best dojo buddy vouch for a guy, it helps soften the grudge a bit.”

“I was surprised she went after him, to be honest. I guess I was wrong about her. She’s more loyal than I thought.”

Demetri rolls his eyes. Like Eli has any room to make judgments about romantic loyalty, considering Miguel told Demetri that Eli planned on having “an entire rotation of girls” after he broke up with Moon.

“Well, anyways,” Demetri says. “Not that I’d want to get mixed up in our Senseis’ complete lack of competence, but I mostly just like having you all to myself.”

He reaches out and pokes Eli in the chest, earning a glare.

“That so?” Eli’s glower fades, his tone teasing. “So what are you gonna do when we find El Serpiente and you have to share me again?”

Demetri gasps in mock horror. “Excuse me, bold of you to assume I’m not the one graciously lending out my best friend Miguel Diaz to you. If it weren’t for my impeccable sense of humor, he never would have even sat at our table.”

Eli chuckles. “I remember you looked so frantic when you waved him over. Like ‘oh god, when will anyone else ever want to be our friend?’ If only you knew it would be the greatest mistake of your life.”

Demetri snorts. “Hardly. I’d been waiting for ages to see Kyler get his ass handed to him. Besides, finding another person who actually gives a crap about you after, like, 10 years of most everyone hating you is well worth a karate war or two. Even, yes, if it means I don’t get Eli Moskowitz all to myself on occasion. Honestly…” He laughs, feeling suddenly hollow. “Neither of us deserve that kid.”

“Yeah.”

Eli’s smile begins to slip. Demetri knows the feeling.

It’s the same feeling he got when he went to Miyagi-Do practice and saw Amanda LaRusso hugging a sobbing Carmen Diaz. It’s the same feeling he got when he ran up to Miguel after watching him win the All-Valley, only to be almost immediately brushed aside.

The fear of losing Eli had always been loud and vicious and ruthless. It tore at him in the night and left his body trembling until morning. It sent him running to the bathroom, dry-heaving until his stomach ached. It sunk its claws into him and rooted them there. Punched them down harder when he saw Eli in the hallways with rage and hatred and cruelty in his eyes. It was a constant agony that followed him wherever he went

The fear of losing Miguel was different. Quieter. Like a parasite slowly eating its way through his insides, a small but ever-present ache in his gut. The tiny but profoundly persistent feeling that something was very, very wrong. Brief trembles and a few quick breaths and momentary bouts of nausea that seemed to be the opening act for something much worse. His mind dancing through a thousand “what ifs” and eventually drifting to the worst ones, whirring louder than an overheated laptop as it churned out hypothetical disaster after hypothetical disaster. An eternal gnawing, chipping away at him like he was a gemstone being cut for a ring. It was the storm on the horizon—thunder that made him uneasy, but didn’t scare him. Not yet.

If the fear of losing Eli had been a jump scare, or the gory, lethal slice of a killer’s axe, then the fear of losing Miguel was the slow buildup to a horrifying reveal, accompanied by a disquieting soundtrack. The constant anxiety that every corner had a monster behind it.

And right now, it’s carving a tunnel through him that’s only getting wider and wider. Demetri wonders how long it will be before he’s completely emptied out.

“I don’t think I deserve either of you,” Eli says. “Miguel always tried to be there for me. You never gave up on me. And I just…” He trails off.

Demetri snorts. “Well, only one of us was able to stomach having their back repeatedly stabbed with needles for 10+ hours. Or had the absolute balls of steel to dye their hair bright purple.”

Eli chuckles. “That’s true.”

The pit in Demetri’s stomach doesn’t take long to return.

“I’m worried about him,” he admits. “From what I picked up from Mr. L, his dad’s not a good guy. I can’t stop thinking about something happening to him out there. And especially after…”

Demetri trails off.

He knows Eli knows what he means. The fall that shattered Miguel’s back shattered both of their lives, too.

The shorter boy frowns. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

Demetri forces a smile, trying to contain the unease leaking through his veins again. “Come on, Eli. If anyone can handle himself out there, it’s Miguel.”

“Are we going to find him?”

Demetri senses him slipping back into the old Eli, timid and soft-spoken and waiting on his loud-mouthed other half to call the shots. It’s a tell-tale sign, he’s learned over the past few months, that his friend is stressed. Or scared.

Often both.

Demetri reaches out, giving Eli’s shoulder a squeeze. “Yes. I promise.”

Demetri Alexopoulos is not usually one to reassure. He’s always turned his nose up at idealism, dismissing anything that could turn out to be false hope. It’s hardly worth indulging in when there’s a high probability you’ll be let down.

But now…

For both his and Eli’s sakes, he needs Miguel to be all right. He needs Miguel to be safe.

Fucking hell, he needs it so badly it hurts.

He isn’t sure if it will ever be quite as bad as worrying about Eli in Cobra Kai, and whatever fucked up training and battle-conditioning and mind-twisting they did to people in there. Still, worrying about Miguel is the kind of soft torment that could kill Demetri slowly if he let it.

“I miss him,” Eli says.

“Me, too.”

“I’m scared for him, Demetri. I’m scared for him and it’s eating me up.”

Eli’s voice shakes as he says it. His eyes are slowly growing wide with terror, tears brimming in the corners.

It reminds Demetri of the olden days, for better or for worse. When he had to be the strong one. And seeing the past cycle back around unexpectedly shakes him to his core.

For all his complaints about ‘Hawk,’ the persona had given Eli a brazen, fearless streak that filled him with the fire to charge into battle. Protect his friends, crush his enemies. Now, it seemed he’d lost hold of the belief he could do either.

“Eli.” Demetri lets his voice soften as he gives his friend’s shoulder another squeeze. “You won the fucking All-Valley Karate Tournament. I made it to the semi-finals. If we find out anyone’s been messing with Miguel, we can—and will—destroy them. No mercy.”

Eli smiles weakly. It’s small, but it’s something. “Never knew you had such a Cobra side to you.”

“Well, don’t get too excited. It only comes out on special occasions.”

Eli sighs, popping his jaw a little. “It would be easier if we knew what we were up against. Like is this guy a drug lord? Some kind of mafia boss? Does he have like…a Mexican karate gang?”

Demetri chuckles. “I know,” he huffs. “Doesn’t help that I’m pretty sure Mr. El Serpiente has not answered a single text since leaving LA. The least he could do is send a courtesy ‘I’m still alive’ text.”

“Probably worried you’ll track his phone.”

“I mean yes. I would. It’s just practical. But that’s beside the point.”

Eli laughs briefly before his face slips back into a frown. He lets out a small sigh.

“It’s just a lot,” Eli says. “To deal with. Um…emotionally, I guess. That might be weird to say. But I had to tell someone.”

“Perfectly understandable. If it helps at all, this whole thing’s been hard on me, too. I’m honestly surprised I’m holding it together as much as I am.”

Demetri realizes his hand has never left Eli’s shoulder. Almost automatically, he squeezes it again.

Eli needs it tonight.

“I’m going to give Miguel the biggest lecture of his life when we find him,” Demetri mumbles. “Who does he think he is, continuously scaring the living crap out of us like this?!”

Eli gives him a courtesy chuckle, but his smile quickly fades again. A sort of heavy melancholy settles over them, like El Segundo fog under cloudy skies.

“Do you think we’d feel better if we kissed?”

Eli speaks, and the fog abruptly clears to make way for a lightning bolt of pure confusion. Demetri blinks several times, stunned into uncharacteristic silence.

“Wh—Eli, what—uh…”

He’s stuttering, completely lost for halfway articulate words. Eli lets out a frustrated sigh, like he’s explaining some complicated math concept to him for the 15th time.

“I’m just saying. You’re sad about Miguel. I’m sad about Miguel. Maybe if we got each other a little hot and bothered, we could take our minds off it.”

“You…want us to kiss?” Demetri has to actively hold back the enormous grin threatening to explode through his cheeks. “As a distraction?”

“Yeah, y’know.” He can tell Eli is trying to sound nonchalant, but his eyes are glancing anywhere but Demetri’s. “Just forget about our friend for a few minutes and indulge in some primal urges and shit. Get off for a bit. At least something can make us feel good.”

“And you’re confident enough that we’ll both be into it to the point it’ll significantly lift our spirits?”

Demetri feels panic begin to crawl through him. Panic, because he suddenly has to act nonchalant. Relaxed. Like this isn’t everything he’s ever wanted.

He’s had hope a few times, over the years. The sensitive streak. The colored hair. The over-the-top theatrics. The girl Eli was most drawn to turning out not to be straight herself.

But Eli pined over Moon and talked about picking up chicks and loved a good brawl and could yell louder than anyone and got manly tattoos of birds of prey and omens of death. None of these things seemed anything but heterosexual.

Demetri always tried to push it down. The sadness, the longing, the desperation to know what the other boy’s lean form felt like cradled in his. These past few months, Demetri had been so relieved to have Eli’s friendship back that he’d forgotten to yearn for more. He thought maybe the feelings would finally die—he could take a step back and appreciate his relationship with his best friend for what it was.

No such luck.

“Hey, I mean.” Eli scoots closer, and Demetri’s trembling so badly that he wonders if he’s going to fall off the car again. “If it helps at all, you can pretend I’m Yas.”

Demetri makes a face, whatever spell Eli was sending his way abruptly broken. “Eli, ew! What kind of pervert do you think I am that my fantasies involve kissing women who aren’t even attracted to men?”

“A pretty standard pervert, actually.” Eli smirks, and Demetri can only shake his head.

He takes a breath, hoping it doesn’t bleed through how anxious he is.

“So, uh…getting off with another guy is sufficiently badass enough for you?”

Demetri has to make sure this isn’t a joke. That Eli isn’t fucking with him. He doesn’t think he could handle it if he was.

Eli’s smirk only widens. “Is it really gay if we’re out in the middle nowhere, and no one ever sees?”

Demetri shrugs. “Yeah, all right. I’m surprised you’re down for it is all.”

“A man’s got needs. And your mouth works just as well as a chick’s. Now should I start or do you—”

Eli doesn’t finish. Demetri clutches his other shoulder and pulls him forward, slotting their lips together.

Demetri is not at all prepared for how hungry Eli is. He feels a sturdy hand work its way into his hair, yanking him closer. Eli’s other arm wraps around his waist, holding him in place more stubbornly than a roller coaster safety bar.

He slides his arms around Eli’s neck, and the other boy uses it as an excuse to push them together even further. It’s as though if he’s not touching every inch of Demetri’s body, he’ll dissolve away.

Demetri doesn’t mind. He just hopes Eli doesn’t feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. That would be embarrassing.

Demetri remembers Moon telling him about her guilt after kissing Eli at the tournament. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, an impulse driven by sudden pity and jumping on whatever she believed would help him feel better. It did its job well enough. Like a video game power-up, it gave Eli the extra boost he needed to smash his way to a victory. Maybe if pretty girls wanted to kiss him in front of an audience, Eli was still the shit.

Moon told Demetri later that she never felt hollower. It was all for show—a simple gesture done out of love for a friend, but nothing with any real feeling or desire behind it.

This didn’t feel like a pity kiss. This didn’t feel like a “just trying to make each other feel good so we get the extra serotonin” kiss. There’s no one to show off to, no tournament they need to hype each other up to win. And Eli is clutching him too tightly and pressing against him too fiercely for this to be about nothing more than momentary pleasures.

Eli is almost kissing him like he’s been desperately longing for this, too. Almost.

Then again, Demetri knows better than to cling to false hope.

At some point they roll over, Demetri sprawled over the top of Eli like the world’s boniest blanket. They keep going, and Demetri is relatively sure he’s ascended into paradise. The dopamine soaring through him is better than the rush he gets winning a karate match. Or beating a particularly hard level of Crucible Control. Or staying up all night bingeing a new season of Doctor Who.

Sad that this is going to be the peak of his life, though. Only 17 years old, and he’s already had what is undoubtedly the best experience he ever will. It’s all downhill from here.

Demetri finally pulls away, panting and gasping for breath. Eli smiles up at him, and Demetri realizes he doesn’t need the desert sun to feel like he’s melting.

It’s faint, but there’s starlight in Eli’s eyes. A tiny piece of the endless cosmos above.

Demetri wants to cry.

“You’re pretty good.”

Eli’s smile widens as he says it—a beautiful, genuine smile, nothing like the smirks and the leers that he used to wear so well.

“So are you.” Demetri laughs softly. “I’ll give it to you, Eli. This was a good idea.”

“Yeah, obviously. Like I didn’t catch you sneaking glances to check me out the whole car ride.”

“Like you didn’t do the same with me.”

He can’t help himself. He leans down and kisses Eli again.

Apparently, it takes quite a while to get it fully out of their systems. When they’ve finally tired themselves out, Demetri pulls back and lays his head on Eli’s chest.

He feels well-muscled arms, once thinner than twigs, wrap around his torso.

His eyes slide shut, and he focuses only on the sound of the crickets, the feel of Eli’s breaths rising and falling below him. The warmth of Eli against him. The breeze drifting across his arm. The dusty smell on the wind, drizzled with the faint aroma of prickly pear. The twittering of nightjars. Cars catapulting by on the distant Carretera Hermosillo-Nogales. The occasional soft hoot of an owl.

He’s slipping into a lull when a coyote howls eerily in the distance. He lifts his head, turning to look at Eli.

“We should probably head to bed,” he says blearily. “We have to make it all the way to Mazatlán tomorrow.”

Eli groans. “Okay, okay. Get off me.”

Demetri obliges, and Eli sits up and crawls to the edge of the car roof. He tenses his legs and leaps off, disappearing from sight and landing on the dirt with a heavy thump.

When Demetri follows, he finds Eli standing below with his arms spread wide and another shit-eating grin on his face. “I’ll catch you, babe.”

Demetri rolls his eyes more dramatically than he has all night. “Right, let me just throw myself off my princess tower.”

He hurls himself off the car roof. Eli catches him, but not well.

They both land in a shrieking mass in the dirt. Before long, they’re laughing again.

Demetri stands up, offering a hand to his friend. Eli takes it, and Demetri tugs him to his feet.

Eli doesn’t pull his hand away as Demetri leads them back to the car.

Demetri wants it to mean something, his fingers locked around Eli’s. It probably doesn’t. But maybe it does.

He’ll have to hold on to that maybe.

190 notes · View notes

guardianofrivendell · 3 years

Text

A Royal Tease

Thorin x fem!reader

Requested: kind of - this was a favor to a very special person!

Warnings: NSFW with an E rating, so please only read if you’re 18+!

A/N: Wowee... that was a ride! Writing smut is definitely NOT the same as reading it :) Let me know how I did it and if I should write more smut in the future. I still feel like it jumps from here to there sometimes, but the longer I worked on it, the worse it got so I decided to stop editing and throw it on here 🙈

Before you start reading, another friendly reminder that English is NOT my first language, so if some sentences feel forced or the vocabulary feels too simple or not descriptive enough, that’s why!

Thorin was lying on his back in the sand, eyes closed and panting heavily.

“Another one!” he growled after a few seconds. “Are you sure you can take another one? Married life sure is taking a toll on ya!” Dwalin teased, getting in his starting position again. He rolled his muscles and Thorin could hear his bones crack. Dwalin was enjoying this far too much.

Thorin might be losing his touch, but Mahal be his witness, he would never admit defeat. He couldn’t give Dwalin the satisfaction. So he pushed himself back up while muttering a line of very colourful words, ready to smack that smirk of his best friend’s face.

These late night sparring sessions with Dwalin were a godsend to get rid of the tension and frustration in his body, but that didn’t mean he would let him off the hook so easily.

Wiping the sweat of his brow with the back of his hand, he walked towards the opposite side of the training field. His tunic clung to his body, dripping with sweat so Thorin decided to take it off.

“What in Durin’s name are those?” Dwalin’s voice boomed across the field.

Thorin immediately held his tunic in front of him, as if he had been caught doing something that he shouldn’t. He completely forgot about them.

“S’none of your business,” he muttered.

“As your personal guard it is my bloody business, Thorin,” Dwalin retorted, making his way towards his King.

“Who gave ya those bruises?”

Thorin stared at his best friend and felt his cheeks flush. He could see Dwalin’s thoughts take a turn for the worst, blaming himself for his King’s injuries. But he couldn’t tell him the truth, could he?

“You were not the one who caused them,” Thorin said in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Then who did?” he pressed on.

“Leave it, Dwalin.”

But Dwalin was quicker and snatched the shirt out of his hands so the bruises were visible.

“Thorin…”

Dwalin’s eyes traveled over the King’s bare chest. His pecs, abs and hips were covered in dark purple bruises, each one of them the size of a gold coin. His eyes landed on the waistband of Thorin’s breeches and it looked like the bruises didn’t stop there.

“I’m supposed to protect ya, Thorin. Who mistreated you like this?”

Thorin kept his eyes focused on Dwalin’s, as if he wanted to have a staring match. Dwalin could see the internal battle his King was fighting, before Thorin broke eye contact and turned around to put his tunic back on.

“They’re Y/N’s alright,” he hissed, without looking at him.

Dwalin stood completely shocked for a few seconds, before he balled his fists and almost bristled in anger.

“Dam or not, she can’t treat ya that way, Thorin,” he said through clenched teeth.

Thorin placed his hands on Dwalin’s shoulders to calm him down.

“No, my friend. No, it’s not like that at all… They happened during…” Thorin took a deep breath and lowered his voice in case someone could overhear. “During our lovemaking.”

Dwalin’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes went wide. But he didn’t back off like Thorin had expected. If any, it peaked his interest.

“She hurts ya for… Pleasure?”

Dwalin’s nose scrunched up, like the thought of someone hurting their One for pleasure was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. Which, in his humble opinion, it most certainly was.

“In her world what happens at night is a lot more... interesting, to give it a name. We’ve been missing out, Dwalin. You can trust me on that.”

“But she hurts ya?” he repeated.

Thorin chuckled. “Believe me, it doesn’t hurt one bit. On the contrary...”

They started walking out of the training halls, their sparring session long forgotten.

Thorin knew it might not be appropriate to discuss his love life so openly with his friend, but he was almost certain Y/N wouldn’t mind and he felt relieved he could finally talk to someone about it.

“You don’t know half the things she’s capable of, Dwalin… The way her hands feel when she… Mahal!” Thorin groaned at the memories of your late night activities.

“Easy there, lad,” Dwalin chuckled. “Ya don’t want to ruin those trousers too, aye?”

Thorin shoved him in a playful jest, but the seasoned warrior didn’t even budge. He shook his head, tutting at the poor attempt of his King. “Pathetic.”

While they were walking towards the Royal wing of the mountain, Thorin told his friend about some of the things he learned the last few weeks.

Dwarrows were a bit old fashioned in the bedchambers, or ‘rather prude’ as Y/N had called it, and she helped him discover a different side of himself.

By the time Thorin had told Dwalin about the different positions he definitely should try besides the classic one, they’d reached the heavy double doors of Thorin’s chambers and Dwalin’s cheeks had turned a few shades darker.

Dwalin halted and nodded at the guards posted at each side of the door.

Thorin opened the door and the right corner of his lips twitched. He was still a bit agitated that he couldn’t beat his friend on the grounds but there was always another way to get the upper hand...

“Oh and Dwalin… They use their mouth too.”

“Well I may hope so, it’s hard to kiss without yer lips,” he said, not understanding what Thorin meant.

“Not for kissing, Dwalin. Not only for kissing.”

Thorin closed the door, leaving a speechless and heavily flustered Dwalin in the hallway.

When he turned around with the intention of entering his chambers and relaxing for the night, someone forcefully pressed his back against the door and pulled his face down in a heated kiss.

It only took him a fraction of a second to wrap his arms around his wife and happily return the kiss, not wasting any time with deepening it by swiping her bottom lip with his tongue. He felt her smile against his lips and she broke the kiss.

“Eager, are we?”

“I do recall it was you who couldn’t resist me, ghivashel, you didn’t even let me come in properly,” Thorin chuckled, keeping his arms tightly wrapped around her while he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

In the meantime, her hands started traveling on their own, making their way over his broad shoulders and upper arms, before finally settling on his chest. His tunic was still damp from his earlier activities and left nothing to the imagination. Not that she needed to imagine it, she knew exactly what he was hiding underneath. What was hers…

Y/N smiled. “I can’t greet my husband after a day’s hard work?”

She reached up and caught his lips in another kiss. Thorin hummed softly.

“Aye,” he said, his hands lingering on her back, but he couldn’t resist slowly lowering them towards the delicious curve of her buttocks. He gave them a firm squeeze and pulled her flush against his body.

Y/N could feel someone else greeting her. “Well hello to you both,” she smirked.

Even though she knew Thorin was that kind of dwarf who gets easily aroused - which was incredibly fun during meetings and official visits - he still caught her off guard with how fast his soldier could report for duty.

“We’re at your service, little one,” he said, lowering his voice.

Licking her lips in anticipation, Y/N grabbed the hem of his tunic and lifted it upwards. Thorin raised his arms and helped her get the tunic off his body, carelessly tossing it aside. His breathing growing heavy already with the adrenaline still in his body from the earlier workout.

His trousers and undergarments were next, she tugged at the laces and let the fabric pool around his ankles.

She took a few steps back and took the time to admire the view before her. His silver and black hair screaming at her to get her hands in, so she could tug it just the way he liked it. The dark hair dusted across his broad chest, trailing down towards his V line and circling around his member. The bruises her lips left the night before stood out on his skin, proof of her claim on him. Thorin was absolutely stunning. A work of art.

“Like what you see?” he hummed, his voice still a deep rumble, hitting her right in her core. Mahal, bless that voice!

“Always,” she whispered.

When she turned around and started walking away from him, Thorin grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

“You’re not going to leave me like this, are you,” he growled.

He knew she was capable of it, she’d done it before. There was nothing his wife liked more than teasing him and leaving him hanging for a while. According to her it was fun, she liked getting him all riled up, but for Thorin it was absolute torture. He wasn’t used to not getting things when he wanted them.

“Easy tiger, I was just going to draw you a bath.”

Thorin sighed deeply when he reclined in the tub, the warm water soothing his aching muscles.

“Feels good?” Y/N smiled, getting a washcloth ready.

He nodded and hummed softly, closing his eyes. His nose filled with the scent of the burning wood from the fire and lavender from the bathwater, and combined with the warm temperature of the water it made him finally relax.

She sat down behind the bathtub and took the bottle of oil for his hair. Y/N brought the opened bottle close to her face, smelling the herbal fragrance. She inhaled it deeply, loving the smell because it reminded her of Thorin. Her husband. Her King.

“I’ll start with your hair.”

She poured a little oil on her hands and rubbed them together to spread it evenly. Her fingers purposefully moved around his scalp, working in small circular motions. He moaned when she added just the right amount of pressure to massage the oil in his hair and again when she started delivering gentle strokes around his ears and neck. With a cup she poured hot water over his hair to rinse it. Thorin kept his eyes closed when she was finished, his body completely relaxed and at peace.

Seeing how he turned into mush under her skilled hands, made washing Thorin’s hair something Y/N loved to do. It was not her favorite part… no, that part came up next.

She leaned over and pressed a kiss below his ear, and took the washcloth from the side of the tub. Carefully pouring some oil on it, she kneaded the cloth until it was properly soaked, before she let it glide over his chest.

A smile played around her lips when Thorin groaned as soon as she started massaging his muscles with the cloth, washing away the tension in them.

Her hands let the washcloth glide over the muscles in his arms, shoulders and legs, adding enough pressure to work the knots out, leaving no skin untouched.

Except the part where he needed her touch the most.

Every time she came close, Thorin bit his lip in anticipation but she always changed direction or directed her attention elsewhere. He grew more and more desperate, she noticed. So far so good.

“What were you and Dwalin talking about?” she asked, curious about the subject of their conversation.

Thorin opened his eyes, but couldn’t meet hers.

“Ah… yes. Well, I may have taken off my tunic during our sparring session tonight.”

Oh. So Dwalin got curious, she thought. She abandoned the washcloth, letting it float around the water.

“I bet he had some questions about these?”

Her finger started trailing the contours of the bruises. First in a faster circular motion, but as she got closer to his hips she slowed her pace down and adjusted the pressure to nothing more than a feather-light touch.

Thorin closed his eyes again and let his head fall back against the sloping side of the tub. His breath came quicker and when her eyes wandered down his stomach, she was pleased to notice his member was back at full attention again. When she let her finger linger near the tip, she could hear him hold his breath in anticipation.

“What did you tell him?”

But Thorin didn’t give her an answer, too focused on her movements and ministrations. She was so close, just a little more to the left...

But instead of doing what he wanted her to do - and she knew he was desperate for it, her teasing and lingering touches had made him wild with desire - she changed direction again and traced the inside of his thigh and pelvic bone, purposefully ignoring his hard on.

“Tease!” he groaned, clutching the edge of the tub in frustration.

Y/N raised an eyebrow in question. “A tease? Me?”

She stood up, clutching her chest like she was actually shocked by his accusation.

“I would never,” she smirked, and Thorin loved the way her eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to tell me what you told Dwalin.”

“I merely gave him some advice based on our experiences, ghivashel. I believe master Dwalin will keep his flushed cheeks for the remainder of the week. Serves him right.”

Satisfied with his answer, she turned to grab a towel, dropping it on a nearby chair for him to use later.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Her eyes lingered on his pulsing cock for a few seconds before she winked at him. “Don’t enjoy yourself too much.”

Before she could leave him, he called out to her.

“The least you can do is give me another kiss.”

Y/N smiled and leaned down to peck his nose.

“No, a kiss worthy of a king,” he groaned.

But when she leaned further down to press her lips on his, she missed how his eyes held the same twinkle hers did a few moments ago…

Before she knew it, Thorin had grabbed her by the waist and pulled her on top of him. Their movements made the water splash everywhere and Y/N shrieked when her dress got soaked with the bathwater.

“Oakenshield,” she growled, pushing her off his chest with her hands and settling in his lap.

She enjoyed the lustful clouding of his eyes when she moved just the slightest, giving him the friction he longed for.

“Always trying to get what you want,” she reprimanded him.

“Can you blame me?”

His hands drifted admiringly over her body, following the curves of her bossom and hips.

“Yes!”

He was taking over control and she had to stop it before she gave in. With some difficulty she managed to climb out of the tub and wrung the water out of the dress of her skirt, turning the bathroom floor in a small pond. Seeing as Thorin made no move to get out of his bath or apologize, Y/N decided to take the teasing to a higher level.

Keeping her back to her husband, she slowly unhooked the fastings of her dress and let it drop to the floor with a slap. She heard the sharp intake of Thorin’s breath and the slosh of the water when he sat up.

Oh, that’s right… Did she forget to mention she wasn’t wearing anything underneath? Oops…

He wasted no time in getting out of the bath, not even bothering to take a towel to dry himself. The only thing on his mind was to get to his wife as fast as possible.

She whimpered when their bodies clashed together, the evidence of his arousal poking between her butt cheeks. His lips attacked her neck, and she was almost certain the firm grip of his fingers on her waist would leave bruises the next day. Not that she minded.

He guided them into their bedroom, and when the back of her knees touched the bed frame, her mind cleared and she tutted at him.

“Since when are you in charge, yâsûn?”

He cupped her breasts, softly kneading them and letting his thumbs flick over her nipples. He lowered his head to take one in his mouth, not stopping his caresses on the other one.

Y/N sighed and let her head fall on her shoulder, her hand finding its way in his hair. His damned mouth...

“I don’t hear you complain,” he smirked.

She certainly didn’t complain when he slid one of his thick, calloused fingers between her folds, and Thorin moaned when he felt how slick she already was.

“You’ve been enjoying your teasing,” he accused her. “All this for me?”

She grabbed his length and he hissed at the sudden contact. She stroked a few times to spread the precum, and when her thumb flicked the head it took all his strength not to come all over her hand right that minute.

“I couldn’t stay behind with all this for me...” she smirked.

With a growl he connected their lips again. His wife knew exactly which buttons to press and he both loved and hated it. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed her thighs and squeezed them, urging her to jump up. Y/N did as asked - which surprised Thorin - and locked her ankles behind his back to keep her balance.

Not bothering to clear the furs from the bed, he laid her down on top of them, her hair sprawled out on the pillows.

She bit her lip when she noticed how his eyes had darkened even further, Thorin looked like he could devour her any minute. She didn’t realise how close to the truth she was. Maybe he needed another round of teasing...

Before she could follow through with her plan, Thorin took the lead.

He flipped her on her stomach, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto him, all in one fluent move. It was a position they only did once before but he had already claimed it as his favorite.

Knowing what he wanted, she placed her knees on either side of his hips and let her back rest against his front. The hairs on his chest rubbed deliciously against her soft skin and she had a hard time staying still. The muscles in his thighs and stomach were rock hard, just like her toy in between. Y/N’s hand went up his hair and tugged it harshly when her clit came in contact with his cock.

“Are you ready for me, little one?”

His voice got even lower if that was possible, the words wrapping around her like a silky smooth blanket. If he kept talking like that, it would be over for her before they even began.

“Thorin, please,” she begged.

“I thought you liked teasing?” he chuckled.

She grabbed his member, guiding it to her entrance and lowered herself down in an attempt to shut him up, a desperate moan falling from her lips when their hips connected. Thorin tightened his grip on her. She felt absolutely divine.

“Only when I’m the one doing it,” she gasped, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out.

One of his arms slid around her stomach and settled between her legs, circling her clit with his thumb when he began to thrust upwards.

They soon found a steady rhythm, and Y/N could feel her orgasm building quickly.

No, too soon, she thought and she slowed down the pace, slapping his hand away from her clit.

She leaned forward, keeping her body up with her hands on the furs. The new angle made her feel every inch of him and a loud moan escaped her throat.

This is what she had been craving the entire day.

She raised her hips until only his tip was inside of her and then lowered herself down, agonizingly slow.

“You’re such a good girl for me. Mahal, keep going, do not stop!”

She loved it when he got vocal, and with each curse and praise he murmured, she felt herself getting closer to her release.

Thorin noticed her change in breathing and pitch of her moans and sped up the pace.

This was all feeling too good and with the help of his encouragements she came undone, clutching the furs until her knuckles turned white.

He cursed heavily when she clamped down on him, but did his best to help her ride out her high. He kissed her neck and stilled his movements to give her a break, only resuming them when she nodded that she was okay.

As he began to thrust even harder and faster, Thorin gathered her hair in one hand to keep her in place, his other hand firmly on her waist while he chased his own release. His moans became increasingly louder, less controlled with each thrust and a curse escaped his lips.

“You feel too good, ghivashel, m’not going to last,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

He came with a shout and a cutoff curse but kept thrusting in and out of her until he felt himself soften. When he finally pulled out, he covered her back in kisses.

Y/N laid down on the bed and opened her arms for him to cuddle. Both their bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and it took them a while to catch their breath.

These were the moments when she felt the safest. In his arms, in the after bliss of their lovemaking, listening to the soft and even breathing of her husband. She kissed his head and trailed the muscles of his upper back with her finger, earning her a content sigh from Thorin.

A chuckle escaped her throat and he looked up at her questioningly.

“Now you have something new to tell Dwalin,” she said with a wink.

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doubledgesword-2 · 3 years

Text

Soulmate Au Part 3

Part 1 and Part 2 are here! Requests for the Adult trio are open!

WARNING DUB-CON AND EXPLICIT SMUT +18 Please do not te upload somewhere else!!

You started to suspect something was wrong with you when you walked deep into the forest, looking to harvest the crops. Your mind screamed at you to keep walking. Walk away from this place and leave them behind. The minute your feet took one step forward, the most intense migraine struck you. You tried to walk forwards and work through the pain, but it became too debilitating to the point your legs gave under you, and your body crumbled to the ground.

Your eyes clenched close, and your body tucked in into a fetal position, your hands clutching your shirt in hopes it would lessen the pain. Suddenly, you heard a rustle behind you, but couldn't really be bothered to turn and look at the disturbance.

"Oh, here you are. I was worried something might have happened" Chrollo came from behind a tree, his coat gracefully moving as he came to stand before your crippled form.

He sat down beside you taking your body into his lap. His hands stroke your hair as tears came down from your eyes.

"(Y/N), this is such a nice and peaceful place you've built" his voice was so calm, and his hands went through your locks with such comfort that you were calming down for a second.

He took a deep breath, eyes close with a smile as if truly enjoying the quiet and the light breeze blowing through. Chrollo leaned down close to you, your body shaking in pain still. His hands petted away a couple of strands of your hair as his lips came close to your ear.

"You weren't thinking of leaving now, were you?"

The tone of his voice made the question feel like a gentle threat. But a threat nonetheless. He kissed your temple and kept running his hands through your hair, breathing in once more, smiling at the sunbeams coming through the leaves and shining down on the two of you.

"I am delighted you have decided to stay with us. It would have broken all our hearts to know you weren't happy here" he looked down at your form, no longer distressed but still slightly shaking and sniffling.

"You are happy here, are you not?"

You nodded weakly in response, and he beamed at you. He picked you up gently, bridal style, while his hand carried the woven basket underneath you.

"Let's go, I'll prepare dinner tonight. Just the two of us, little treasure. All is well".

Chrollo brought you all the way to the cottage, filling the air with casual banter along the way. His excitement grew whenever the prospect of a new book came into the conversation.

"It's very eloquent poetry. I am sure it'll sound melodic coming from your lips".

Chrollo walked into the cottage with you still in his arms. The other two were nowhere to be seen, and it confirmed what he had said: you two were truly alone. Chrollo settled you on the sofa, your fluffy cat meowing around his legs. He crouched to pet the cat's head.

"What are you craving today, love?" Your eyes were close, dried tear streaks under them, but you opened them to see him smiling warmly at you while still petting your cat.

"Chef's choice," you replied simply, trying a smile of your own, but it came out more like a grimace.

"Mmm, hard choice, I'll surprise you then" he gave your forehead a kiss and moved away from your vision line.

After leaving you on the sofa, Chrollo had draped his coat over the chair, washed his hands, and got everything ready for the food. Your eyes were droopy, body tired after your horrific headache, so you drifted off into a nice comfy nap.

A fantastic smell wafted around the house, waking you up to find you have drooled on the decorative pillow. Chrollo was in front of you, smiling at your cute and sleepy face.

You shot up, looking around as if you weren't in your house, and you didn't know who was in front of you. Then it all came back, the realization hit you, and you wiped the drool with the back of your hand. Chrollo chuckled at you and got up to kiss the top of your head, lingering for a second, hugging you to him.

“Dinner is ready, come on love."

A bit disoriented and groggy, you got up and went to the table. Everything was set up with candles surrounding the dinner table and the kitchen. A single rose in a vase was in the middle of the table, the same vase that you had changed the flowers that fateful day they had found you. Chrollo was waiting beside the chair he had pulled out for you. He had a proud smile as you went to sit at the chair, and he gently pushed you in. The whole thing was adorable, and it would have been romantic if you weren't wary of the man. He sat down as well and was looking at you with loving eyes. You pretended he wasn't fixed on you as you took the first bite out of your food.

"I hope it's to your liking. I had never made this one before" he had ended up making your favorite dish, and you were happy to have it; the food was truly delicious.

The fact that he knew your favorite dish shouldn't give you the feeling of dread, and yet it did. You knew the trio had most undoubtedly memorized everything about you, no matter how small the detail was. Still, you couldn't wrap your head around the idea.

"It's delicious, thank you" you forced a smile at him, and he chuckled under his breath, looking down at his own plate.

"You don't have to pretend with me (Y/N). I'm not Hisoka or Illumi; I'm a simple thief but a gentleman at heart. I know you're uncomfortable, and this situation is new to you. I don't blame you".

You looked down to your plate, feeling a bit embarrassed that he noticed your inner turmoil. His words should have offered comfort, but you couldn't feel it or find any. Instead, they further pushed down the heavy stone in your stomach.

"I-I don't know how to feel, still. I'm adjusting, trying to at least" you took another bite and gave him a close-lipped smile as you chewed the food.

Chrollo's dark eyes pierced yours; he wasn't buying it.

"Then perhaps we haven't fully helped you experience love in this relationship," he gave you a closed eye smile and took a mouthful of the food.

You felt shivers run up your spine, body tingling in fear and dread as if you were at the dropping point of a big coaster ride. Your heart beat faster to the point where you started hearing it in your ears.

The door seemed like an excellent option right now.

Your hands went under the table to grip the edge of the chair as you tried to ground yourself back into the moment. 'He didn't say anything. He just made a suggestion with a smile', you told yourself, looking for the logic in his words, and calming yourself. But it wasn't working, you had felt it. Felt the tiniest flare of his aura reach out to you in silent warning. Nothing big but just enough to put you back into place. There were so many meanings behind that little jesting phrase that it made you anxious.

"Are you alright? You seem a little pale" he placed his utensil down, getting out of the chair and crouching near you.

His cold hand reached to your cheek, caressing you and making you look down at him.

"Perhaps some air will do you good," he grabbed both your hands in his and pulled you up and out of the chair.

You were in a slight daze watching him as he placed a coat around you and dressed in his own. Chrollo exited the cottage with you around his arm. The two of you looked like a loving couple taking a stroll in the middle of winter.

As you walked into the forest, passing by trees and bushes taking in the sights under the moonlight, Chrollo pulled a book from inside his coat and handed it to you. You took it. Still, a bit shook but figured some reading might do you good.

"I borrowed it," the way he said borrow told you he meant stole "figured you might like it" he side-eyed you as your doe-like eyes looked up to him in question.

You looked down at the cover seeing it was a very elusive limited edition copy of one of your favorite authors. Your heart skipped a beat, and for once in a long while, you were pleasantly surprised and excited. Your lips pulled into an unconscious smile, and by the time you had noticed you were smiling and tried to hide it with a serious look, Chrollo had already smiled and locked the sight in his mind. You looked precious.

"Why don't you read it out loud. I'm sure it's a good night for some reading if you don't mind?" His suave and smooth voice questioned, but you knew better than to resist him.

So you nodded, muttering a thank you. He nodded back, closing his eyes briefly and then looking back at you with expectation. You opened the first page and started to read the prologue as the two of you walked. Your lips never stuttering a word as you got lost in the story, pulled into it to the point were you forgot his eyes on you.

Chrollo was looking around the trees, admiring the majestic scenery as your words filled the nightly air. He knew your tone was hesitant and scared. You hated reading out loud and especially to him. You'd told him it was something about the sound of your voice in your ears. But he loved it. The way you pronounced or mispronounced words made his heart flutter. How your tone changed when you got lost in the narrative and started muttering small comments for the characters under your breath. Your little mannerisms made you adorable in his eyes, and the more he looked at you, the more he wanted.

He wasn't satisfied.

At the beginning of his relationship with Hisoka, there were some bumps he had to overcome when it came to the clown. But once he did, he could say he came to love the jester. When Illumi came into the picture as his second soulmate, he was a bit surprised. He, at some point, even doubted the assassin could actually be capable of emoting or loving. But one night, when they were all together tucked away in a vacation home right in front of the beach, he realized something about themselves.

He was sitting on a comfy armchair sofa in the balcony, book in hand, a glass of wine resting on its wooden arm. The sun was setting as cliche as it may sound, but his eyes rested on the page's words. When suddenly, he felt a head fall on his lap.

Assuming it was Hisoka, he didn't even glance down in hopes of secretly riling him up. Though curiosity got the better of him, so his eyes did glance down, and he was surprised. On his lap, long black hair fanned across it, was Illumi with his eyes close and a peaceful expression on his face.

Chrollo's heart fluttered.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he stole glances of the assassin. He almost closed the book, but he was afraid the sound would shake the scene and make the Illumi leave. So he kept pretending to read, not being able to fully concentrate with the comforting weight of Illumi on his lap.

They bonded after that, growing closer together. Hisoka was proud of them. The troupe had always been his family but getting to feel this kind of love was different.

That's when he realized soulmates were meant to be together for a reason. So when your name appeared on their skin out of nowhere, he knew they had to find you. You were not being loved as you should. That's why he understands your apprehension and your wariness of them. They're not exactly good in lawful standards, and their moral compasses might be slightly broken. But if there's one thing they know for sure, loving you is one of their main goals.

You just need to see it.

"As soon-"your reading got interrupted by a pair of lips on yours.

Chrollo's hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought you close for a fevered kiss. The book fell out of your hands as they came to rest on his arms.

"I couldn't resist," he mumbled out of breath against your lips. You, on the other hand, were freaking out a bit.

The fact that you were in the middle of a clearing in the forest was making you anxious. Chrollo dived in again, looking for your lips, but you turned your face away bashfully. You looked down to the grass seeing the book and bending down to pick it up as if he hadn't just kissed away your breath.

He was a bit hurt, but he had to remember that you weren't like them. You needed a little more coaxing to come out of your shell. He would help.

You straightened, inspecting the book for any creases or tears in the pages. You dusted away some dirt, closing the book delicately and looking up at Chrollo.

You frowned at the sight. Not that it wasn't a pleasant one, he was handsome and pretty, but you weren't buying it. At some point, you were pretty sure you were in soulmate denial.

"What are you doing?" You asked meekly, seeing as he had shaken away his coat and was shirtless at the moment.

Your fight or flight sense was glaring up, and you hugged the book to your stomach. Chollo placed his coat in the grass, open as if it was a picnic blanket. He turned to eye you, his eyes no longer cold.

"I know you're afraid, but there's nothing to be afraid of. Let me show you just how much I love you," that was your cue.

He took a step, and you mirrored him taking one back. This made him slightly tilt his head to the side, the look playfully menacing. Chrollo took another step and your nen flared up in warning, this time stronger than the last time you had tried this. He looked proud instead of intimidated, and it angered you.

The loving way he looked at your nen didn't help your case, and so you attacked. Your nen moved fast, striking the spot where he was. But he was fast, as quick as Hisoka, and that was a disadvantage to you.

Chrollo had suddenly disappeared and left you in the middle of the clearing. You leaned down to quickly put the book out of harm's way and then stood in attention. The moon shone brightly on you, giving your dangerous look and angelic glow. He could've groaned and moaned out loud just like Hisoka would've done, but he bit his lip instead, looking at you through the foliage.

Your ears were strained, searching for any noise as little as it may be. But there was no noise when he came, fast and swift bringing you down. The two of you rolled around on the grass, he chuckled as you winded up, straddling him. Your face scrunched up in concentration. His hand lifted to your cheek, caressing it, which made you flinch for a second. Chrollo then flipped the two of you, causing you to shriek at the suddenness. He pinned down your wrists, bringing them beside your head. Your wide-eyed looked at him startled, yet something was growing in your stomach's pit.

"You're getting better. Illumi should be proud," he leaned down, bringing his lips close to your ear. "Your nen is worth stealing, I wouldn't mind, if it meant keeping you as well" he bit your earlobe, making you bite your lips.

You tried to wriggle your wrists out of his hold, but his hands tightened around them. Chrollo started kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking his way down your collarbone. Still, you kept muffling your noises, biting your lip, and holding your tongue.

He wouldn't have it. Chrollo bit down in between your neck and shoulder, making you moan loudly.

"That's more like it," he chuckled against the spot soothing it with a lick and kiss, "Do you think I could steal some more noises from your lips?" He asked, bringing his lips close to yours.

"Would you let me?" You could feel his breath on your lips as he talked.

Chrollo kissed you hard, tongue poking your entrance and biting your lower lip so you wouldn't deny him. He sucked on your tongue, relishing in your futile attempts to keep quiet. His hips started grinding slowly into yours, pressing down his hard-on on your clothed spot. He was only wearing his pants, back and chest bared under the moonlight and shining with a thin layer of sweat. He separated for some air, leaving you a bit dazed and fuzzy. His hands coming down to your clothes gripping your shirt and tugging at it. That jerked you up from your state, making you gasp, your hands coming to his own grabbing them. You tried to pull them away from you, but he took both of your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them hard on the ground.

You groaned at the slight pain, and he took the opportunity of your raised arms to slide the shirt up and jumble it around your hands in makeshift bounds. He smiled down at your bra and the way your brows scrunched up in struggle. Your fight was strong, but he was stronger.

Chrollo leaned down to your chest, kissing the curve of your breast pressed on the bra. He bit down on the mound, making you groan.

"You're so soft, so beautiful," he whispered to your chest as his hand slipped the breast out of the bra. He massages the nipple, head dipping, and licking the other to attention. You started squirming under him, bringing your tied hands to stop him but ended up hugging his head closer to your chest, a moaning mess.

A fire was rising in between your legs, and you felt the electricity go down your spine.

'What were they doing to you?!' You screamed in your mind trying to fight the feeling.

Chrollo's hand left your mound, his mouth kept sucking on the other, as he sneaked down to your waistline. You had been wearing a comfortable attire since it was a bit hot, and you were tending to the crops today before your accident. He easily slipped down and into your panties. His calloused and experienced hands didn't waste any time and felt your slit. He smirked when he found you wet, but not enough for him. Chrollo gathered some slick and gently rubbed on your hooded pearl. You jerked under him, muffling a moan by biting your lip. His lips left your peak, glistening and wet under the dim moonlight. He went to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, and planting open-mouthed kisses as his other hand maintained a steady rhythm on your nub. He didn't change the speed, going in gentle circles on your bundle of nerves.

You were getting desperate, feeling the pleasure rising in you, and pushing shame to the back of your mind. Your hips bucked unconsciously, and he tutted you like a child, smiling in victory against your neck with closed eyes.

"Tch, tch, tch, not yet, I think you deserve some punishment for being so stubborn with me" he bit your earlobe, making you whine in response.

Your body struggled against him, but he let his weight drop on you, making you stay still. Chrollo's hand then went quicker and quicker, driving you deep into pleasure but not all the way. You whined again, trying to move away from his hand, but he went faster. Suddenly you felt the ice-cold rush from the tip of your toes to your core, pleasure flooding your system like a wave. Your body shook under his, toes curling, and you let out a moan closing your eyes at all the sensations.

Chrollo groaned with you, his pants too tight for comfort. He grinned against you softly and sat up, still straddling you. In your high, you didn't felt as he pulled the rest of your clothes down and his arousal out, the tip an angry red as he stroke it, shuddering under the feeling. He then pushed into you, making you gasp and open your eyes wide to the see him. His eyes closed, and he bit his lip briefly. Then his dark eyes opened slowly, looking down at you in adoration. His mouth was slightly opened, breathing heavily at the feeling of your warmth engulfing him. Hair was falling sideways and forwards, almost covering the cross on his forehead. The light glowing behind him gave him a surreal look and feel.

It was euphoric.

You moaned, and he started moving slowly, leaning over you to capture your lips as he sped up. His hands were beside your head, supporting his body as he rocked with you. He rested on his forearms, bringing himself closer to you as he changed speed and slowly rolled his hips, making you feel everything.

"I love you so much," he whispered into your cheek, kissing it afterward.

Chrollo groaned lowly when he bumped into a special spot that made you clench hard around him. You moaned.

"Found it," he chuckled low, speeding up and hitting the same spot over and over.

Your hips buckled, meeting his as he sat up. He gave you a half-lidded look, smiling at you. His hands came to rest on your hips, pressing them down as he rammed inside you. He couldn't take how good you felt, your same walls gripping him and becoming him deeper. He complied, going faster and deeper, making you moan and whine. Chrollo's hand sneaked to your hooded pearl, rubbing it at matching speed with his thrusts.

Your body jerked, heat, and cold consuming you at equal measure. Your body glistened with sweat under the moonlight, making you glow and shine like a jewel worth stealing. Chrollo bit his lip at the picture, wishing he could just have it to look at it all the time. Instead, he committed it to memory, his hand rubbing your nub furiously.

Suddenly your body arched beautifully, your breasts offered to him as you came with a shriek. Pleasure flooded you, making you twitch and shake. He joined you with a groan, head thrown back as his body arched as well, driving his length deep inside you, releasing all of himself into you. Your walls massage him as he thrusts slowly.

The two of you panted heavily.

Chrollo's hands were beside your head, supporting his body as he caught his breath. He looked down at you, your skin looking perfect under the lighting, your lips puffy and slightly opened as your naked chest heaved, making your breasts move up and down. You looked gorgeous, and he couldn't ask for more. He was satisfied, and a sense of fullness filled him at the moment.

He pulled out, making your face scrunch up in pain at the slight discomfort of the tenderness. Tucking himself back in his pants, he zipped them up and laid down beside you. He undid the mess around your wrists, and you pulled them down beside your body, resting the aching muscles. His head was supported on his hand as he laid on his side, looking at you in love. Your eyes were closed, and you seemed to be calm, almost sleeping.

His fingers came to lay on your stomach. The ginger touch made you jump slightly at the suddenness, but otherwise, your eyes remained closed. They moved around your form, tracing your marks, your waves, the way your mounds curved into your chest, your collarbone, and finally, they came to rest on your neck. He caresses it with the back of his hand, coming up to your cheek and staying there.

You opened your eyes slightly, looking at him through a tired glaze. Chrollo smiles warmly, coming close to peck your lips. He pulled the coat around your form, covering you from the night's chill, and gathered you in his arms.

Chrollo stopped to pick up the book you had neatly placed away from the mess and chaos. Smirking at your thoughtfulness. He gave you the book or at least propped it on your stomach as your sleepy form was losing the fight. He carried you all the way back to the cottage, where he placed you on the bed. You turned to the side, and he petted your hair, kissing your head. He came back to put the leftover food away and the dishes in the sink, making sure to turn off the candles. Your cat was eagerly following him like he had treats in his pockets.

Chrollo went back to the room, taking off the rest of his clothes and stripping you of this coat. He draped it on your vanity, the rest of the clothes scattered in a corner of the room. Your fluffy black cat went to them, kneading the fabric and then laying on top.

Chrollo pulled the covers back and brought you close to him, pulling the two of you under the sheets. He snuggled closer to you, the two of you naked as the day you were born. He pressed a kiss to the back of your ear, nuzzling your neck afterward and then resting on top of your head.

"Sleep well, my love," mutters, and you reply with your own muffled and unintelligible goodnight. He smiled, closing his eyes in bliss.

He couldn't wait for the morning to do it all over again.

#hunter x hunter #hunter x 2011 #chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo hxh #chrollo x you #chrollo smut #fanfcition #hunter x hunter fanfic #soulmarks #soulmate au #hisoka morrow x reader #illumi hunter x hunter #illumi x reader #smut and fluff #smut fanfiction

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sly-merlin · 3 years

Text

You look hot in maroon

Characters : ceo! yuta + head designer fiancé reader

Words:1.6k

Genre: fluff, romance, smut

Smut warnings: office sex, teasing(lots of), dom!yuta, dom!reader(tongue kiss dominancy), unprotected sex(no need to be so pro irl).

Music :alone with you- ashlee (it’s h o t like in H O T)

A/n : happy birthday Amira darling. Here’s spicy yuta for you. (how does it feel to be of the same age as jaehyun and having more brain cells the fraty would ever have!) @aiyu-ssn

Beta read by @ncteaxhoe agr tum na hote toh kyaa hota humara inni!!

If living with yuta was an arduous task then working with him was undoubtedly insufferable. The man knew no manners and just loved crossing all the boundaries of an employee-employer relationship.

Just like right now. Moving away from the presentation, you modelled towards the center table where all the board directors sat. When yuta had promised you that he’d help you in your first presentation, you had assumed he was going to make sure nobody went hard on you or maybe politely correct your mistakes saving you from embarrassment but never once in his talk had you heard the mention of a foot.

The naked foot that he was brushing against your ankle whenever you travelled back to the table for adding a new edit another director suggested. If their interruptions were not annoying enough, yuta had joined them too, he just forgot he wasn’t at home.

You were concentrating on your backlit keyboard when you felt it again.your breath hitched and you inhaled sharply as yuta’s naked feet fondled with the straps of your heels, the mischievous act covered by the large table. Your eyes floated over the management team to examine their judging stares but it looked like the air around them didn't let them smell past their envy for your new promotion. Glancing away from them, you tried to step away from yuta but before you could do so, the digits of his foot teasingly journeyed up your loose pants, gently caressing against the side of your calf. Furiously clicking your finger on the laptop, you somehow managed to free yourself from him but just when you turned, something tugged on your pants making you freeze on the spot.

“Let’s hurry up ms.l/n. We need to start on the second presentation as well.”

Your shoulders tensed up immediately as you caught yuta’s professional gaze through your peripheral vision.

“Yes ms. Y/n. We have to decide the new interior as well.” he said plainly but you grasped the smirk humming in those words. Rolling your eyes, you dropped the monitor controller onto the floor, the resounding noise securing you looks of disapproval but you couldn’t care any less about them.

Muttering an apology, you crouched down and instead of picking up the controller, you pleadingly joined your hands, knowing yuta was the only one in your view, hoping for some mercy from him. a cough was heard and he retracted his feet and rolled his chair under the table..

“let's finish this. I’m feeling hungry”

Shaking your head, you composed yourself before explaining the remaining presentation.

“What the fuck were you doing there yuta?” slamming the office door shut, you whisper screamed.

With an intoxicate smile, he met you halfway and wrapping his arms around your waist, he dipped you, stealing a kiss.

“you look so hot in maroon, baby. You did great today.”

Pushing him away, crossing your arms, you sternly asked him,

“bitch you almost sabotaged my first presentation. Everyone must be questioning your decision of promoting me! They already thought you were favouring me because I’m yo-

“because you are the love of my life? Let them be. Had they worked any harder, they would have been standing in your position but alas!”

picking on your lower lip, you averted your eyes, hiding the effect his words always had on you.

“what was the need to annoy me though? why do you have to be so reckless all the time?”

“You were so tense baby! I was just trying to ease your nerves.” gasping, he continued, “and look at your ungrateful ass! Why do you always treat me like I mean nothing to you.”

“tsk tsk. So sad yuta! I’m ungrateful? Fine bitch.” Winking and blowing him a kiss, you backed him, dismissing his hand reaching out for you. “take your words back if you want to enter the bedroom tonight or you can say goodbye to your dinner!"

"Fine." He said, matching your backwards steps with his further ones. "But can i have my lunch at least?"

You were familiar with that particular sparkle in his eyes. Roguish one.

One stride back and he had you detained against the door. His fingers played with your jaw, his other hand fumbled with the door locks and his lust filled eyes wandered over your whole face, locking your stare. Just when his both hands found the curves of your waist and he leaped in, your palm met his lips in a soft smack.

“ouch! Is your lunch yummy boss?” you giggled. In an instant, he pinned your arm against your waist, hovering right above his zipper.

“stop playing baby. We don’t have too much time to spare.”

Finally diving in, he bit your upper lip earning a satisfactory whine from you. his grip on your hand loosened when he lost himself in your wine coloured lips, leaving you with the hard decision of finding a new home to position them. as much as you wanted to palm his hardening dick, your fingers mechanically gripped the back of his hair in a tightening hold.

Lips dancing harmoniously, you both forgot about the world that resided just outside the door. Your tongue praised the edge of his moisturised lip just the way he loved it and the sinful smile that you felt reassured you of your ministrations. He let you slide your tongue in and his body squirmed with yours when he tried to trap you impossibly closer in his arms. The fact that he was a sucker for your domineering kisses needed no evidence. The deep groans that met your ear were inebriating as he readily reduced himself to a plaything for your lips. a mean chuckle boomed and you pushed your tongue into his mouth leaving no space for breathing.

Your chest shamelessly heaved up and down as you slowly pulled your tongue out while ravishing all of him, finally stopping at his lips and giving his fuller lips an open mouth kiss, apologising for ignoring them earlier. Plucking away, you both inhaled each other for a few more seconds before he susurrated,

“fuck y/n. nobody can kiss like you”

His complement flattened you. Attaching your lips to his, you pushed him slightly and taking the hint without much telling, he let you shove him back towards his desk. And that's when you knew you had to stop.

He removed your blazer and worked on your shirt, you unzipped his crisp white pants. Soon, your nails were drawing meaningful circles on his naked torso as he stared at your lingerie with a hungry gaze. Hurriedly placing his laptop aside, the only device resting on his table, he had lain you on the wide desk. He placed your one heeled foot on the wheeling chair and wrapped the other around his clothed waist for your comfort.

"Don't want me to ride the shit out of you pretty boy?" Teasingly, you queried as your hand touched just the waistband of his underwear.

"That's for dinner darling." With that, his plump lips latched themselves into your sensitive neck. Your moans got louder as you felt the wetness of his mouthed kisses around your collarbones. Eager for some release, you jerked yourself forward in hope of finding some touch but the only thing you got was a cruel chortle.

"Just a minute baby."

And the very next second, his dick was aligned to your opened entrance. Perhaps he had realised the demand of the situation you were both in. Or he was just dying to relish. As he thrusted in, the chair rolled a bit to the left stretching your thighs more than you would have liked but yuta's hold kept you in place. He slowly pulled out once only to toss himself in again. His leisurely pace was painful and you cried out for him to go faster. Leaning in, he groaned in your ear before sucking harshly at the ample of your breast. The lacy bra did nothing but drove him crazy for your raw side.

"Touch yourself"

And you did. Your fingers were fondling with your clothed breasts when the view provoked him into finishing faster than he had intended. He fluidly entered, penetrating your hole at a pace you would never get used to and your body shivered under him as sighs of content and help escaped your throat.

"No one's prettier than my baby."

His own groans, mingled with your desperate ones, permeated the room with sounds of love and lust. After a few more deep and violent pushes, he filled you up with his cum but that didn't stop him for the unselfish lover he was, he moved his sensitive dick into you once again making you scream his name in pleasure.

"Fuck yuta!" Your back arched and your thighs shook under the weight of his delicate fingertips and hammering cock, and soon you laid undone under him, spilling your juices onto the edges of his Mahogany desk. Eyes closed, you let your hands finally rest on your stomach, legs waiting to be put down, heart beating like it was your first encounter with your lover. Maybe it was just yuta. You were always attached to each other yet always had so much to share.

"Am i forgiven madam?" He breathed near your ear.

"You are a bitch yuta." You jested.

"Only for you."

"Liar."

"That too only for you baby!"

And you both forgot about the army of directors that stood outside for approvals,left there with unsigned papers and something unwarranted in their pants.

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brightbeautifulthings · 4 years

Text

Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace

"'What if sometimes there is no choice about what to love? What if the temple comes to Mohammed? What if you just love? without deciding? You just do: you see her and in that instant are lost to sober account-keeping and cannot choose but to love?'"

Year Read: 2014, 2020

Rating: 5/5

Context: It's hard to know where to begin writing a review for this book. I read it for the first time in graduate school in about five weeks (alongside everything else I had to do in grad school, so I don't recommend that), and it basically blew my mind. At the same time, it's hard to imagine tackling it any other way for the first time. Despite its difficulty, there are things obsessive and immersive and, appropriately, even addictive about it. Full immersion might be the only way to read it for the first time, and I obsessed about it for months afterward. Since I'm not on any deadlines, I took it more slowly this time (21 weeks) so I could enjoy the writing and the nuances without the pressure to finish. For my less coherent weekly updates in real time, see my blog posts. Trigger warnings: Everything, everything. Death (on-page), child death, animal death, suicide, suicidal ideation, rape, pedophilia, possible incest, child abuse/abusive households, graphic violence/gore, eye horror, severe injury, drug use, addiction, alcoholism, mental illness, depression, OCD, grief, racism, ableism, transphobia, sexism, inexplicable hostility toward Canadians.

About: If it's difficult to know how to write a review, it's equally hard to describe what Infinite Jest is about. It's about so many things, tennis, addiction, communication (failures), and entertainment among them, but I'll do my best. Beneath all the numerous characters, timelines, and subplots, the main plot is about a film so entertaining that it kills anyone who watches it, robs them of all desire to do anything but watch it until they die, and what a faction of Canadian assassins will do to possess it. The auteur is James Incandenza, a suicide whose son, Hal, is a prodigy at Enfield Tennis Academy. Next door to E.T.A. is Ennet House, a drug rehabilitation center where Don Gately, former thief and Demerol addict, is taking it day by day to stay sober. Though they don't know it, Hal and Gately are connected, and the deadly Entertainment and those who seek it draw their paths closer and closer together.

Thoughts: It's rare to find a book that is actually as smart as it claims to be, but IJ is--certainly much smarter than I am, despite all my attempts to make sense of it. It starts off strong and doesn't let up for several hundred pages, which is a huge achievement all by itself. Wallace excels at writing extremely polished sections that could almost function alone as short stories, and the first chapter is one of my favorites in all fiction. It's reassuring, I think, to start the book off on a strong note, in case we worried we were in for a thousand pages of tedious slog. It can be both, but it's often heartfelt, insightful, and funny as well, and the payoff is well worth the effort. I don’t know how Wallace manages to pack every page with so much meaning. Anybody can put tedious lists in their books or make reading purposely difficult (and I have attitude about writers who do this for no reason), but there’s nothing haphazard about this book, despite its size and varied focus. Everything seems utterly intentional. The conversations are really top-tier; Wallace has a great ear for how people talk, and it's a fascinating look at how communication works and doesn't work.

Thematically, I think the book succeeds on more than any other level, including plot or structure. If we could say this book is "about" anything, we would almost certainly start with the themes and not the plot, which is often secondary to whatever point Wallace is trying to make at the moment. It takes an in-depth looks at things like addiction, depression, loneliness, failed communication, sincerity v. irony, critiques of postmodernism and metafiction (while being very meta itself, at times), and the very specific selfishness of an American culture that insists on freedom even to the point of self-destruction. At times, it feels a little heavy-handed or like it was yanked right out of an intro to philosophy course, but I suppose something in a thousand pages has to be obvious if we're ever going to pick up on it. A lot of these themes resurface in his other work, from "This is Water" and "E Unibus Pluram" to Orin Incandenza's Brief Interview style Q and A (and he would be a perfectly fitting character in that book).

The characters are some of my favorites in literary fiction as well, particularly the Incandenza family and Don Gately, and to a lesser extent Joelle Van Dyne (although Wallace typically doesn’t write female characters very well, and she comes with some issues). Hal and Gately couldn't be more different; Hal excels at everything he's ever done, and Gately has a record that includes accidental homicide on it. Hal is the hero of non-action, since little that happens in the book is engineered by him, while Gately is closer to the more typical hero of action, who defends the undeserving at great cost to himself. Yet their struggles with addiction are similar, and they both manage to be incredibly sympathetic characters. In my opinion, the book is always at its best when we’re with Hal or Gately, but I’m strongly driven by good characters. Despite being dead, James Incandenza's presence is also felt all over the book, from the Entertainment he created to his haunting ETA and sticking beds to the ceiling (probably the weirdest ghost I've ever seen in fiction). He's a tragic character in a book full of tragic characters. The others are too numerous to name, from the other tennis players at ETA and recovering addicts at Enfield, to the various bystanders populating Boston. We get brief glimpses into almost all of them, and while they may not all feel relevant at the time, most are memorable or heart-wrenching or slapstick funny, or all three. It's a book that contains multitudes.

That's not to say it's always on point though, and it isn't. There are a number of very serious problems with representation in this novel, and they're as bad as its detractors claim. A lot of the 90s humor aged very poorly, but that's not an excuse for some of the unabashedly racist depictions of African Americans, the uncharitable descriptions of Steeply's and Poor Tony's cross-dressing, or--however much I love him as a character--the fact that Mario Incandenza’s descriptions are ableist in just about every possible way. Wallace thinks he's capturing "voice" when he's really encouraging harmful stereotypes. The humor of the novel often doesn’t depend at all on these stereotypes and would in fact, be a lot more funny if I wasn’t spending so much energy cringing at it. So many of the little racist and ableist asides could have easily been edited out of the entire novel to make it less offensive. There are also sections where he seems at pains to be as gross as possible for its own sake. There are plenty of things grim or uncomfortable or flat out distasteful about this book, but sometimes the graphic violence kind of jumps out and stabs you in the eye, say, with a railroad spike.

If there are times when I was totally absorbed in the little tragedies of the Incandenza family or Gately's struggles, there are plenty more where it's like pushing something heavy up a hill. No lie, some of it is slogging through tedious minutiae and various experimental writing styles (some more successful and less offensive than others). Wallace has a gift for purposeful tedium; it’s at its peak in The Pale King, but he gives it a nice warm-up round here. The novel is difficult and meant to be, since Wallace maintained that some of the best pleasures are the ones we have to work for, and he's not totally off base. There's something very satisfying about living, for a time, in a book that spans a thousand pages, that demands focus and perseverance, and manages to give back (almost) as much as it takes. The book is always structurally interesting, but it starts to get more complicated toward the end as various characters and plots begin to almost slide into one another. I forgot how frustrating it was to near the end and realize--again--that it wasn't going to wrap up with any kind of satisfaction; the various plots slide, but they don’t meet. I thought if I paid closer attention on a second read that I would pick up more of the plot things I’d missed on my first, but I think the problem is that those answers simply aren’t to be found in the actual text. Of course, they can point us toward various conclusions, and the novel certainly encourages us to speculate and make connections, but I don’t think the actual answers are there.

That brings me to some of my final thoughts, for now. There's no doubt that this is a hugely successful book, and I believe it accomplished exactly what Wallace meant it to do. He jokingly referred to it as a failed entertainment, much the way Jim considered his lethal Entertainment a failure, but I have the sense that Wallace, unlike Jim, failed on purpose. The book purposely pays more attention to structure and theme than it does to plot or character, yet the plot and characters are hugely compelling for what we see of them. Imagine the book it could have been if he had paid equal attention to all of them. Wallace attempted to create a book that people wouldn't want to stop reading. Reaching the end certainly encourages us to begin again, as the first chapter is actually the last in chronology, but that trick only works the first time. By my second read, I realized that starting over wouldn't help me fill in any of those blanks or answer any of my questions, and I was content to let it go. On the one hand, IJ depends upon its structure to tell the story it's telling. On the other, think of the book it could have been if it spent more time telling a story and developing its characters and less time belaboring a point. It's one of the best books I've ever read, and the tragedy is that I think it could have been even better.

#book review #infinite jest #david foster wallace #literary fiction #adult fiction #5/5 #rating: 5/5 #2020 #bookoween

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ditch-witches · 4 years

Text

Business Lunch (Dean-Charles Chapman Smut)

requested: yes/no (back by popular demand + people having dreams about him)

pairing: Dean-Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: smut, rough!dean but not as rough

word count: 2,249

a/n: I need to stop eating Lunchables when I sit down to write. They turn me into a S I N N E R. TAKE ME TO SYNAGOG AND THROW ME IN THE RIVER. I'M READY.

Your fingers thundered against your keyboard, only stopping briefly to furrow your brows at your last edits and take a sip of your weak coffee. A headache was forming at your temples; had it been from the lack of sleep, the caffeine, or the stress, you didn't know. You rolled your head on your shoulders, sighing slightly before continuing with your work. The only sound in your office was you, typing feverishly and your clock, ticking away rhythmically to remind you that time is the enemy.

So it was only natural for you to jump nearly three feet in the air as your phone rang out loudly with your secretary's voice cracking over the static. "Ma'am, there's a Mr. Chapman here to see you."

You let out a breath of relief, placing a hand on your chest to steady your heart as it threatened to pound out of your chest. "Send him in," you answered, standing to throw your coat in one of the closets. Dean peeked his head through the door, catching sight of you. "What a surprise," you blithely stated, raising an eyebrow in his direction. He sent you a sweet smile as he stepped into your office, settling his hands on your waist and pulling you in for a brief kiss. You relaxed in his arms, digging your hands into his jacket. The headache faded almost instantly.

"You forgot your lunch this morning," he mumbled, kissing your cheek as you motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs in front of your desk. He hooked one of his boots under a leg and dragged it closer to you so he could rest his elbows on the hardwood of your desk across from you. "It's me. I'm for lunch." You chuckled at his cheeky comment before he took the sight of you in completely. "I need to start paying more attention in the mornings. Look at you, you're like a sexy librarian. My schoolboy fantasies are tingling."

You rolled your eyes with a snort as he grinned rather widely. "You are such a dork," you grimaced, inserting a graph into one of the slides of your presentation from an email you had to have missed while welcoming Dean. He rested his chin on top of his hands, his large blue eyes watching your hands work. "Sorry, just give me a second."

"Don't worry about it. I just wanted to be here." You looked over to smirk at his comment. "Besides, I don't think I can look at your underwear all over the place anymore," he jeered.

"Dean-Charles! I will call security," you huffed dramatically, adding a few points to your notes. You cracked your knuckles and turned to Dean, deciding that spending a few moments with your man wouldn't kill you, especially if he was looking at you like he was now.

"That was sexy. You can get arthritis from that, you know?" You shushed him, pushing his arms off your desk and making him giggle slightly. "You don't have any nicknacks in here." His eyes looked across your desk at the stacks of reports.

"I have a picture of you. That's enough of a tchotchke," you joked. He shook his head at you. "Tell me about your day. What have you been up to in the," you paused to look at your watch, "six hours since you saw me this morning?" The image of Dean's messy hair and raspy morning voice brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to settle inside of you. Remembering his half-lidded eyes and lazy smile as he kissed you goodbye had gotten you through the morning's traffic and the awkward elevator ride with a few of your coworkers.

He looked up in thought for a moment, his expression almost mimicking when a child begins to tell someone about their favorite animal. Before he answered, your manager opened your office door, barging in with a devious smile cracking across his face. You internally groaned at his presence swiveling in your chair to stand and greet him but he walked over to you, stepping behind your desk to lean against it. You were slightly taken aback at his actions. "Mr. Daughtry, this is-"

He cut you off. "Come on, doll. You know you can call me 'Michael'." He turned to look at Dean, who had moved the chair back into place and sat up without your realization. "You must be the fiancé." He held his hand out across your desk for Dean. You knew full well that Michael was going to practically pop Dean's arm out of his socket with the handshake, but Dean took it in stride.

"You must be the manager." Dean looked to you momentarily, his expression almost deadpan at the interrupting man.

Michael gave him one of his piranha-esque smiles, showing most of his teeth before turning back to you. "All right. Let's see the Houston report," he gestured to your computer, pulling at his shirt cuffs. You nodded, moving to your computer and scrolling through what you had for him, feeling him bend down to hover over you, his breath almost against your neck as he narrowed his eyes at your work. You worried he would tell you to scrap the assignment, all your effort being for nothing. His mouth curled into a smirk. "It looks amazing. I have faith it'll be done by tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir. Are you sure this section-" He hushed you, standing up straight and resting his hands on your shoulders. You tensed, your eyes flashing to Dean as if to ask if he saw it too. He tilted his head slightly, an eyebrow raising with the same quizzical look you were giving him.

"It's really good. I'm really proud of all you have done." His thumbs rolled against your shoulder blades a few times. "I can't wait to see what else you come up with."

"Oh stop," you jested, attempting to keep up with his game in the hopes that he would leave earlier if you did, feeling uneasy until he removed his hands and began moving towards the door.

He turned on his heel. "Oh, Dean, right? You're one lucky man." He winked at Dean, sending him finger guns as he left, sending you one last look.

Dean turned in his chair, his expression slightly dark. "Is that your boyfriend?" He quipped, settling against the back of his chair. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Should we invite Michael over some time? He seems fun." You straightened up at his comment and brushing it off standing to organize a stack of papers near you. You knew he was mocking you, but his tone was almost unreadable to you. He wet his lips, pushing himself out of the chair swiftly and taking his time to come around to the other side of your desk after locking your door, running his fingers down the grain of the wood before his hand trailing the length of your arm to settle against your neck. You leaned into his touch and despite not being face to face with him, you could feel the smug look playing at his lips. "I'm a lucky man, huh?" His hands brushed down to rest on your hips, pulling you to press against him with his lips against your ear. You bit your lip to keep from grinning. "What does he know?"

"Are you jealous, D?" You teased, moving your head to side-eye him just enough to see the dark grin spreading over his face as his lips brushed against your neck faintly. You turned in his grasp, him now leaning you against the edge of your desk, his hands gripping your leg to pin you between him and the object.

His eyes darted from your lips to your eyes before finally attaching his almost glare to your irises. Your fingers found their way to grasp at the soft fabric of his t-shirt beneath his jacket. "Depends how easily he can get you off." Your breath caught in your throat and his arm moved up your back quickly, crashing his lips into yours. Your hands moved to grip onto his hair as his tongue engaged in an intricate dance with yours. Your mind went numb as his hand drifted down to unzip your skirt, slipping his hand beneath the material to squeeze your ass, closing the space between the two of you as you stepped out of the garment. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, moaning into his kiss, already feeling his excitement behind his zipper. You moved to ride his jean-covered thigh, your leg wrapping around him, wanting friction as soon as he could give it to you. He broke the kiss, his eyes deepening at your slack-jawed expression as your hands fisted his t-shirt, holding him closer to you. He pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck, his teeth grazing and nipping at the skin already covered in goosebumps. "Stop it," he growled, his hands clamping down on your hips to halt your movements.

He wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs, lifting you to sit on your desktop, the wood cool against your skin. You leaned back on your elbows as he slipped out of his pants, standing before you like he was your conqueror. He roughly pulled your underpants down your legs and leaned over you, lips pressing to the behind your ear before slamming into you. A moan escaped your lips as your legs lifted to give him a better angle to drive into you again. He stood up straighter, pulling your hips forward as he sank into you, beginning to snap his hips faster, his hand moving to rest on your neck, giving it a light squeeze, eliciting an excited grin from you. Your back arched at his movements, trying to move against him, holding onto his wrist. You didn't know if you needed his fingers or more friction, but your edge was building and you needed more relief. He grinned darkly, halting his actions and pulling out of you, flipping you over to press against the desk. "I said stop," he groaned in your ear, kicking your feet further apart and pressing into you again with a grunt.

"Dean..." you moaned, his hand reaching around to clamp around your mouth.

"Shh. You don't want someone to hear their boss whining, do you?" His words made your knees weak as you bit down on the skin of his hand while he pounded into you from behind, his fingers digging into your hip to keep you right where he wanted you. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice low and greedy. You could tell he was close and you were ready for him to finish you off at this point. He pulled out of you to return you to your previous position, and sitting on the desk he wrapped an arm around your back, the other lifting one of your legs. Just the pure sight of him, sweat from the exertion of fucking you forming against his temple. His hair already disheveled and his eyes lust blown as he looked at you. He was right. The only one allowed to hear you beg was him. And as you held onto his shoulders, reaching towards your orgasm like it was the sun coming out from behind the clouds, you were prepared to beg.

You bit his shoulder to stifle a moan wanting to violently rip through your body as Dean's breath curled around your neck, his speed increasing by the second. His hand slid beneath your shirt to grasp your breast, his lips lazily dropping to your neck and jaw. "Beg," he commanded.

"Please, Dean," you almost whined, your voice strained with pleasure as he chuckled softly. "I'm so close," you practically whimpered. His thrusts soon became strained as he groaned into his climax, urging you over the edge as well, chills rushing over your body as you finally came. Your hands ran into his hair as you pulled his lips to yours in a kiss that was hungry and well deserved. The two of you caught your breath as you leaned into his chest and a sense of ease settled over you for the first time in days. "I would never be with another man."

Dean chuckled, stepping away from you slightly to pull his pants back on. "Trust me, I know."

Your mouth fell open slightly. "Cocky bastard." He sent you a cheeky grin as you tugged your skirt back up your hips.

He ran the pad of his thumb over your lips, smoothing them with a gentle kiss, an action so soft compared to his previous tactics that you found it hard not to invite him for round two already. "I'm proud of you and your huge Don Draper office, but I have to get going. I forgot I made plans with our neighbor." You chuckled at his statement as he looked into your eyes. "I love you."

"I love you. Thank you for the lunch," you joked, kissing him again before he turned to leave.

"Good luck with your presentation, sweetheart. Even if it flops, you're a winner to me," he teased, sending you a goofy smile. You rolled your eyes with a stupid grin on your face, sinking into your chair as your office door clicked shut behind the love of your life.

#dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman smut #dean x reader #DEAN QUIT OR ILL WRITE ANOTHER SMUT #smut imagine #smut #1917 imagines #1917 #imagine #imagines

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elfenbensord · 4 years

Text

star crossed lovers

written: 26.1.20-8.2.20

word count: 6.5 k (ish)

note: wrote this for @writingsoftheloser’s 1.5 writing challenge! check her lovely blog out!

attention reader! your nickname is now puck, after one of the characters in shakespeare’s ‘a midsummer dream’. welcome to your new life, puck.

prompt: lavender - devotion, virtue

characters: adult!remus lupin x adult!reader

masterlist / blurb masterlist / requests n asks

---

1984

“What about this one?” Remus waved the fresh copy of Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ in front of his friend’s nose.

“Please, no. I can’t stand that one...”, her eyes rolled in a dramatic gesture.

“Really? Didn’t you do this one at drama school?”

“Exactly.” She slapped the book away, making a face. “Doing a show kind of ruins it for forever.”

Remus took the opportunity to raise an eyebrow, “How unfortunate for you. I, however, find it to be a charming play.”

“Sure. But I was a pretty good Puck.”

“You were marvelous.”

He was trying to stay focused on organizing the shelf in front of him, but his slightly over tired brain was much more interested in continuing her jests. She was sat on top of the counter, helping him very little. “Well, you wouldn’t know. Since you didn’t come to see me.”

“Well, then I’m sure you were marvelous.” A few more books stacked against each other, filling up the empty space of the soon-to-be book shop.

“Damn right I was.”

He sighed, finding his focus defeated by her. “I’m still waiting for the day when you’ll discover humility.”

Her sudden laugh filled the empty shelves, “You’ll have to still waiting.”

“It’s called ‘keep waiting’. Or ‘continue waiting’.”

“Maybe it is. Not my fault your language is malfunctioning.”

He sometimes forgot that she isn’t from here. She seems like such a natural part of his life, he could never imagine living without her snarky comments and home-made words.

“Wouldn’t be my fault either. Do I look Anglo-Saxon to you?”

“Dunno”, she prodded a finger into his chest, not entirely gently. “But you’re supposed to be a librarian.”

He moved her hand away, “Correction: I’m a bookkeeper now.”

She grabbed the nearest book out of one of the boxes on the soon-to-be counter, slapping him not-too-gently on the head with it.

“Careful!” his sudden protest took her by surprise, just in time for him to grab the copy from her hands. “That is a first edition of Jane Ëyre, it isn’t for slapping people in the head with!”

Her hands flew up in a defensive manner, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

Remus inspected the old copy of Jane Ëyre, anxious to find any scratch or dent in its textile bound cover.

“Stop making eyes with that dust. It makes you look, like, half a century older.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her comment. Setting down the book on top of one of the boxes, he said, “You think I’ll still look this good at 74?”

“Not some chance.” “Not a chance.”

“Gotcha!”

Another involuntary laugh on his behalf. “Come on, we need to empty these boxes by lunch time.”

“You have a schedule for everything, Lupin.”

“One of us needs to, Puck.”

She frowned at her old nickname, it only brought memories of long nights of studying lines written far too many centuries ago and caffeine-overdoses. “... Now you’re just being rude.”

“How about ‘we complete each other’?”

“That’s quite an interesting take.”

“So I’m interesting now?”

Opening one of the boxes containing yet another batch of books in need of a good dusting, he could hear her mumbling, “You’re a pain, that’s what you are.”

“If you finish those books by one o’clock, we can visit that Indian place on the corner. My treat.”

Her eyes lit up, “Why didn’t you say so before?”

He could only smile.

---

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Lavender Books and Records!”

A familiar laugh reached his ears. “You can calm down with your fake charm, it’s only me.”

He pretended to be offended, “Who said my charm is fake? I reckon I’m quite charming on most days…”

“Yeah, it’s definitely fake.” She made sure to dramatically sigh and sit down on one of the book stacks by the counter.

“That’s not for sitting o-”, Remus tried to protest, but it was too late. He was rewarded only by a glare. In reply, he turned his charm up another 100 percent. “I hope your day was as lovely as you are?”

She picked up a book from one of the piles near her, pretending to be interested in its contents. “It was quite alright. But I’m very interested in what you think you’re getting with this sweet talk?”

“Dinner. It’s your turn to cook tonight.” He didn’t bother to look up at her, he already knew too well how she’d react. Lightly frowned eyebrows, slightly parted mouth, a playful look in her eyes.

“And what makes you think that?”

He glanced at her, finding her reaction to be exactly what he’d guessed. Bingo.

“My carefully planned out dinner schedule does.”

“Oh, really.”

“Also, I’ve made dinner the last three days.”

She closed the book in her hands. “That’s a lie.”

“No, it isn’t”, he replied calmly, returning to the order of books in front of him.

“We went to the Italian restaurant two nights ago.”

“Which I paid for.”

“... Damn it, you’re right.”

The bell above the wooden door dinged loudly, announcing the introduction of a new customer.

Putting down her book, the renowned Puck looked up to smile at the fresh blood. “Good afternoon, and welcome to Lavender Books and Records!”

Remus could only smile at her antics, before looking up at the customer. “How may we help you?”

---

“You really should cook more often.” He couldn’t help but tease her.

The kitchen was still a mess, a small price to pay for over-cooked pasta with slightly burnt tomato sauce.

“Shut up.”

They found their way to their three-people sofa, like they always seemed to do once it got later. It was much too small for three, even two. They usually solved it by half-sitting, half-lying, arms and legs randomly strew across.

“I’m thinking about hiring someone.”

“For sexual favours? Darling, you only needed to ask.”

“Didn’t know you’re a legitimized stripper.”

“What do you think all that extra rehearsal time after school was for?”

Her comment earned a loud sigh from Remus, before he moved on to what he actually had set out to say. “I meant someone to help around the shop.”

“Then why’re you asking me about it?”

“Dunno. You’re my best friend, I suppose I just wanted your opinion on the matter.”

“Hmm. I think you should hire someone really sexy, so you could extend your target age to a few years younger than 50.”

“Or perhaps a few years older? Depending on how blonde she is, of course.”

“... Or he.”

“Fair point.”

They could go on for forever. Bickering, embroidering each other’s jokes. It’d been like that for too long, they didn’t know what to do with themselves. Or what to do with each other. They fell asleep together that night, on the sofa for two.

---

The worn-out copy of Orwell’s ‘Animal Farm’ witnessed about the many nights Remus had sacrificed for Mr. Orwell’s well-known fable. Several parts of the text were underlined, commented on, or simply washed out by the emotions he’d experience the first, second, and tenth time he’d read the book.

“I’m all done, you ready to go?” The voice of his friend made him reluctantly put down the paperback.

“Just a few more pages? I’m almost done with the chapte-”

“What’s with you and that damn book?”

He didn’t want to respond, finding her voice too harsh.

Her eyes were frowned, lost of their usual spark. “I tried to read it once, and it’s all just talking pigs and horses and “all animals are equal”... “, she stuttered for a while, falling in and out of her own language. In loss of what to say, she burst out: “How it can mean anything else than just animals fucking around?”

He knew her like this sometimes. After all these years, he knew her well. But he was rarely on the receiving end of her frustration, her endless exhaustion. But he still felt he didn’t know her well enough to know what to do, or what she wanted him to say.

“How did it go?”, he stalked her her around the corner of the theatre, speeding up to keep up with her fast steps. “Your audition, how was it?”

Her eyes are not what they usually are. Shine slightly dulled, movements lazy and strained.

“How was it?”

“Shut up.” A demand, a need, rather than a request. She doesn’t care for manners; she rarely ever did.

“... Are you alright?”

Breathed out through gritted teeth, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Trying to grab her hand, he tried to slow her fast pace. “Hey, hey. What’s up?”

Her tears were audible through her strained voice. “Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s happened!”

“... Can we just go home, please?”

He finally found into her eyes, and could easily read her mind. “You didn’t get the part, do you?”

Anger pushed her eyebrows downwards, tears forcing their way out. Her figure collapsed against the concrete wall of the building near the pavement, face crumpling into a caricature of her own particular beauty. Curses flew out of her mouth, melting into a shameful spot on the dirty concrete. Choppy, angry, breaths, mixed with sniffling and desperate noises. “I fucked up. Again.”

Then she fell against him. Shocked by the added weight upon him, he struggled to keep himself upright. They stumbled against each other for a moment, both fighting not to fall, before they finally found each other in a tight embrace.

Remus found himself longing to make her pain cease. He wanted to turn back to that audition hall, find the people in charge and strangle them with his bare hands. Her arms tight around him made him realise he would gladly sacrifice every first edition he owned to see her happy again. Forget first editions - every book he owned. Burn them all, for a simple lift of the corners of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Puck”, his hands desperate to dry her tears away. “I’m so sorry.”

Her hands found his, grasping them to have something to hold on to. Her curses were out, her body empty of anger for the moment. Their breathing was starting to sync into slow, almost forced, breaths.

In, out. In out.

He slowly brought her hands up to place a kiss on them. Something deep in his heart started to sprout slowly, dearly, readying for new life to begin.

“Thank you”, muffled by the fabric of his coat. She stayed in his arms longer, just to feel the weight of his care on her. To smell his kindness. She had always felt drawn to him, bound by loyalty which could never be denied him. Like a lover. Or a dog.

She pulled away from him to stand upright by herself. Once her breathing had evened out , she found the strength to ask, “Are you a dog person or a cat person?”

An easy laugh forced its way out of his mouth “What?”

“Cats or dogs?”

“Why do you need to know?”

The glimmer in her eyes was beginning to catch fire again. “Just answer me?”

He took a moment to think, so he could stay honest to her with his every word. After a minute or so, “Dogs. Definitely dogs.”

Her smile finally appeared, and the world could begin again.

---

The theatre called her back a week later.

She got the part.

---

1980

“Hey, anyone in there?” were the first words she said to him.

Remus almost fell off the small stool he used to restock the taller shelves of the Tempest Library. The stack of heavy scripts in his arms didn’t make balancing any easier, and he found himself looking like a fool for a second. She also thought he looked quite stupid, but wouldn’t only tell him so until a few hours later.

She reached out a hand to help him steady himself. And suddenly, the two had gone from strangers to quite unlikely acquaintances. He coughed once, twice. “Thank you.”

He’d never met someone so bold with introductions. No fumbling, no insecure glances. Sure eyes and a secure handshake, and suddenly they were friends.

“Sorry, were you looking for something?”

She seemed to size him up, inspecting the dust from the archived books on his arms, trying to find out what she thought of him already. Remus’ face changed to a redder shade at the thought of his disheveled hair, and the too cheery “Hello! My name is…” sign pinned onto the front of his jumper. Seemingly unaware of his knowledge of what she was doing, she took her time to get a good look of him. It ended with a small nod of her head, and brilliant eyes meeting his. “Have you got anything by Shakespeare?”

Remus felt more comfortable stepping into the role of librarian - it felt safer than realizing that this meeting would change his life. “Of course, you’ll find the Bard in our drama section.”

“... And that is?

“In isle G.” He tried to smile, but she still didn’t seem content with his answer.

“Do I have to get it myself, or is it really true that you can just conjure it up with your librarian-granted magic?”

His laugh was unexpected, even to himself. “It isn’t true, I’m afraid. But I’ll gladly show you isle G.”

The walk there seemed longer than the 30 metres it actually was. “Was it any particular text you were looking for?”

She eagerly looked around the different isles containing shelves of books about most subject on each and every letter in the alphabet. “Wow”, her hand went to remove some bothering hairs from her eyes. “You really have a lot of books here.”

“Well, it is a library.”

“Whatever. D’you know have many there are in here?.”

“It’s over 2000, at least. And that’s excluding the archive.”

“How d’you know?”

“I’ve counted them. Or tried to.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. Several quick breaths, a few snorting sounds. That’s what her laugh sounded like in the beginning. At some point, after a few weeks or even months, it would become a sound to lift him up on hopeless days.

They finally reached their destination: isle G, the drama section. S for Shakespeare. “What were you looking for?”

“... Something about summer and dreaming. I can’t remember what my professor said-”

She turned quiet once she saw the book in front of her. Remus held up ‘A Midsummer Night's Dream’, looking at her with expectant eyes. “Could this be it?”

“‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’... That does sound familiar.”

He was surprised that she had nothing more to say. Though he’d only been aware of her existence for no more than what could be five minutes, he found himself thinking he’d known her much longer.

“What kind of title is that, though?”

He had to stop himself from smiling. There it was. Bingo.

He cleared his throat, trying to get back to reality. “Is there any particular reason as to why you’re seeking this particular book?”

“I’m doing an audition, and my professor said I need a bit of background info first.”

“Cool. Who’re you gonna play?”

“Dunno. Haven’t read it yet, have I?”

He noticed how she moved. A curious thing, perhaps, for a newly-found friend to notice. But it was hard not to notice. She almost moved like a cartoon character. Moving her body around in an exaggerated manner, like she was being observed by a larger audience. Like she was performing her own life to a crowd. And it became obvious that the spotlight belonged to her, and only her.

He cleared his throat again, “So I’m guessing you’re here to borrow it?”

“Well, it’d be a bit hard to do my homework otherwise.”

“You’ll need a library card to do that, but I’m happy to help you apply for one.”

“How can you know that I don’t already have one?

Because it seems like you’ve never set your foot in a library before.

“I just… I listened to what you said, and… Sorry, do you have a library card?”

“No, I don’t. Could you help me get one?”

Remus was relieved to find the conversation somewhere familiar once again. “Of course, I’ll just need your name and your phone number.”

“This sounds a lot like something a stalker would say, but I’ll take the risk since I really want to get a good role.”

He didn’t know whether or not he was in a position to laugh at what she’d just said. Was it a joke on him? A joke on her? A joke to herself only?

“Please laugh”, that hint of joy in her eyes again, “otherwise I’ll just feel stupid.”

“Wouldn’t want that to happen.”

“No one’s ever died from a little stupid.”

“I believe it’s called ‘stupidity’.”

“I believe I just proved my own point.”

“Well, to be fair, lots of people have died from their own stupidity on lots of occasions.”

A broad arm gesture, “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point then?”

“Do you still want my phone number?”

“Well, I’ll need it for the library card.”

“Okay. D’you have a pen and some paper, or will I have to use the book?”

He handed her a pencil and a piece of paper from his back pocket, happy to finally get some use of them. “Please don’t use the book. I think people here have been fired for less than scribbling.”

After a quick signature in barely readable hand-writing, he handed her two notes.

“This one”, she gave him the first note, “is for the damn library card.”

“And this one’s”, she gave him the second note, “is for you.”

She grabbed the book and placed it in her backpack, getting ready to head of to her next adventure. Before she left him, “You can call me about Shakespeare or something tonight.”

---

The connection sparked, “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t think you’d call.” It almost sounded like an accusation, coming from her in a slightly harsh tone. It was hard to tell when her face wasn’t available.

“How come?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you think I’d call.”

“Didn’t seem like the type.”

“The type to call?”

“The type to do anything exciting.”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Sorry if I’m a bit rude right now”, she shuffled the phone from one ear to the other. “It’s the way I am.”

“Well, that sounds…”

“Alarming?”

“Honest.”

“Wow.”

“Did I manage to surprise you again?”

“Yes. Yes, you did.”

Their breathing almost synced, before she said, “You’re pretty cool.”

And he felt she really meant it. He’d soon come to realize she meant everything she said. Most times, at least. And he’d come to love it.

“So are you.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

The connection ended. Remus sat still for a moment, not really knowing what he thought. Had he been expecting something else? And then her words came back to his mind, “See you tomorrow.”

There would be a tomorrow including her. And perhaps a day after that. And perhaps even the days after that. And slowly, he started to see how his life could change. And he thought it was pretty cool.

---

He waited for her the next day.

And the next.

And soon he had to send her a late notice for the book she’d unofficially borrowed.

---

The light outside the library became dull, heading towards complete darkness. Remus looked longingly towards the tall windows, wishing he could be on his way home. He had a few chapters left of ‘The Great Gatsby’, and he could barely wait until he could finish it later that evening.

A not too familiar voice cut through the thick silence: “If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck… ”

She could not continue after that. He restrained himself from a loud sigh, finding it impolite to do so. He then wondered if she’d find it impolite, or if she really cared about politeness at all.

“Good evening, honest Puck.” He looked up from the book report on the library counter before him.

Her eyes betrayed her wish to stay cold and collected, “I’m sorry.”

The book was in her hands, along with a piece of paper. She looked at him with hopeful eyes as she handed him the script back.

He handled the book, searching to find any new imperfections. His eyes met hers. “This is a week late.”

“... I’m sorry about that too.”

“I should charge you for that. It’s my job, after all.”

“I don’t think you will.”

He hated how she knew him already. “No. I won’t.”

In a desperate attempt to continue the conversation in some other direction, “I take it you got the part as Puck?”

“Understudy.”

“Does this mean I’ll have to murder someone?”

She laughed, “Thanks, but I like to kill my own enemies.”

“Perhaps a minor accident? Nothing too serious, just serious enough…”

She laughed again. “I hope you’ll come see it, even if I’m not in it. I can get you tickets if you’d like.”

Her offer wasn’t very tempting to him. “Sure.”

She gently rolled on the balls of her feet, not able to keep still for more than a second. “When d’you get off tonight?”

This offer was more to his liking. “Late.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Will you?”

“I will.”

“I don’t believe you”, he started looking at the report again, hoping he looked cold and collected. She thought he did. “But I’m eager to have you surprise me.”

She wrinkled her nose, finding his sentence too perplexing to care. “I’ll call you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m occupied elsewhere.”

“And where might that be?”

“In the works of F. Scotts Fitzgerald.”

“Who’s that? Your uncle?”

“No”, he was confused by her confusion. “He’s an author.”

“Well I haven’t heard of him.”

“It seems like you haven’t heard of a lot of things.”

It was meant as a thought, but it slipped out of his mouth before he could restrain himself. Her reaction to the insult-like statement was even curiouser.

Laughter. It lit up the dim room, and made the sun want to crawl back onto the sky. “Good talking to you, Remus. I’ll call you.”

---

A few beeps before connection.

“Hello.”

“I’m surprised.”

“Gotcha. Now you’re never ever getting rid of me.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

‘The Great Gatsby’ was put aside for the rest of the night, and he was forced to reschedule his entire life for her phone calls to fit.

It doesn’t sound so bad at all…

---

1984

“D’you wanna go to this weird art exhibition?” She leaned over his reading, stealing away the light from the kitchen table. This was the tenth time he tried to finish ‘The Great Gatsby’ with no apparent success.

He was forced to meet her eyes, “Come again?”

“Not right now, I’m still a bit sore.” She was laughing halfway through her own joke.

It earned her an eye roll from him. “You know what I meant. And you should also know that your mind disgusts me.”

“Thank you. Wanna go now?”

“I’m sorry, but my evening is unfortunately occupied elsewhere.”

Another sentence she didn’t care for, “... Meaning?”

He returned to his book, wanting to seem suave or something like it. “I’ve got a date.”

“Like a… ”, she needed a few moments to comprehend, her arms and eyebrows everywhere, “a real date? A human date?”

“... I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Sorry, but I didn’t know that rat-haired librarians were in such demand.”

He looked up to see her smile. “Actually, you’d be surprised.”

“What? Are you saying that you’ve turned down dates?”

A nod of his head, he could feel his confidence growing. “A few.”

She moved closer to him, “What’re you hiding, Lupin?”

He laughed, “Nothing, Puck.”

Crossing her arms, “Where are all these girlfriends then? Or boyfriends?”

“I just-”, he found himself in search of the words he wanted to say, something which rarely occurred to him. “I just didn’t feel like it.”

“Didn’t feel like it? That’s sounds like absolute bullsh-”

His hand quickly reached to cover her mouth, “Mind your words, please.”

She hit his hand away, revealing a smile. “Sure, Mr. Anglo-Saxon.”

“Hmm. I do love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“Hmm. I really wonder what your date will think of that.”

After a moment, her curiosity won. Bright, curious eyes,“Who is it?”

“You don’t know her-”, he tried again to seem collected. He’d never really mastered the effect, even with all the practice he put it.

“Maybe I do. You don’t know about all my social circles.”

He had to smile, “Dear, we make out the majority of each other’s social circles.”

“Fair point. But who is she?”

“If you must know… Her name is Alice.”

She was practically hanging off of him now, “And how did you meet?”

His cheeks flushed at her closeness. It wasn’t anything new, she’d been too close and too fast from the very beginning. But it never failed to make him change shade to a much redder one. “She’s been helping around the shop for a while now.”

“... I didn’t think you were that desperate.” She slid away from him.

He already missed her arms around him. “Now you’re really being rude.”

“Hmm.” She didn’t regret it. Something about the fact that her best friend would spend an evening without her bothered her. It made her words harsh and unguarded, which she almost always regretted afterwards. Especially if it was Remus. Which is was in this case, and many other.

“Guess I’ll go to the exhibition alone, then.”

He found the clock on the wall, realising how late the hour was. As he stood up and moved to reach for his winter coat, he suddenly found himself afraid of looking too nonchalant. “You do that. Tell me how it was once I get back tonight.”

“Not planning to spend the night with Heather? Or how about the rest of your life... ”

“Hannah. Her name is Hannah.” He closed the last buttons, then wrapped a scarf around his freckled neck. “And I might consider it, seeing as your acting is nothing more than unpleasant.”

“Fine. You do that. Not like I care.”

Please, stay here with me instead.

“It seems like you do.”

“I don’t.”

I already miss you.

“Okay. Goodnight.”

She didn’t say goodnight back.

Remus stayed the night with Hannah, discussing ‘The Great Gatsby’. Hannah never realised he hadn’t finished the book. He almost wished she did. Wished she’d called him out on it, so he could answer with a clever comeback.

He wished he’d stayed at home.

---

She was eating breakfast when he tried to open the door as quietly as possible. “You’re up already? Isn’t this your day off”, he tried to act normal, but he couldn’t remember how. Chugging off his coat, he asked, “How was the art show?”

She tried to find some way of conveying how sorry she was. Sorry for the bitter words, sorry for her uncaring way of the night before. No words fit the purpose, and she found herself staring at her friend instead.

“Are you quite alright?”

Somewhere within, she felt a twinge of something. Like a small thorn, pricking away at her insides. Putting down her bowl of cereal, she eliminated the few metres between them. His cheeks were still rosy from the cold outside, and she noticed how his eyes were just a little bit clearer.

She didn’t shy away from his glance as she said it, “I’m sorry.”

Remus could never stay mad at her for longer than ten minutes. If she’d been particularly impossible, that time could stretch into twenty. He’d realized this far too early in their time of knowing each other.

“I know.”

Her arms slid around him, and she was relieved to find him open for her. “I’m sorry. But I probably meant it.”

His limbs turned soft, his shoulders relaxing. He hadn’t realized he was so tense without her. “I know.”

“How was your date?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“How was the art show?”

“I didn’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Things aren’t as fun without you.”

He found his comebacks to fit right into her sentences. “Good for me.”

“Good for you.”

They were content to hold each other in silence for a few seconds.

“Wanna eat breakfast together out?” she suggested.

His eyebrows drew closer together, a smile already appearing on his face. “You just had breakfast. And I had breakfast at Hannah’s.”

“Yeah. But we haven’t had breakfast together yet.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

Their lives - and their life - was quickly mended again over blueberry muffins and tea.

---

Another evening, a few days later. Puck paced back and forth in the living room. Their living room. Thought moving too quickly in her head for her to understand any of them. Her shoulders relaxed, pace slowed, as she heard keys jammed into the lock of the door. Remus entered, bright eyes and rosy cheeks. His arms were occupied by stack of books and a paper bag full of the night’s dinner.

“They didn’t have those muffins you asked for, but I think I managed to find something like it-”, he was mid conversation when he noticed her angry complexion, her worried pace.

“What’s going on here?”

She started to walk faster again, words falling out of her mouth at a too fast speed. “So, I was talking to Lily-”

“Really? How’s James? And have they decided on a name for the baby yet?”

“Didn’t say. I think they’re going for something like Henry? I can’t remember… Where was I?”

He moved inside the flat, putting the books and bags down on the kitchen table. “... You were talking to Lily?”

“Right! But what she said was that she could never see us two dating…”

He looked up, confused and worried by her. “Sorry, I’m not really following. What did she say?”

“She said we could never date.” It fired out of her, an explosion of syllables.

“And why is that so bad?”

Her face fell into sadness. It was one of the few times he’d seen her genuinely sad, and he found it hurt his heart. He moved towards her, wondering if a hug would be the right thing to do. She stopped to look at him, before she continued, “... Doesn’t matter. But isn’t that a weird thing to say? I mean, we get along fine!”

He chickened out of a hug, and settled for gentle touching her arm instead, moving them both to sit down on the sofa in the living room. “We get along marvelously, darling. You’re my absolute best friend.”

Her face was already lighting up, thoughts settling once again. What was she ever worried about? “And you’re my best friend in the whole wide world.”

The smirk on his face implied a lot of things.

She took one look at him, restoring back to herself again. “Get that stupid smile off your stupid face.” Closing her eyes, she let a smile consume her own face again. “Or else I’ll have to give you a black eye, or something.”

Threats never worked on him, she was well aware of that. His head fell onto her shoulder. “You seem very upset about this. Any particular reason as to why?”

She quickly turned explosive again. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date tonight?”

“... No?”

“Hmm. So Miss Perfect decided to spare you this night?”

He moved away from her, standing up and crossing the room to find the open kitchen. Their open kitchen. “You know, sometimes you’re not very nice at all.”

“And?”

“Exactly.”

He couldn’t bare her taking more of his energy. “I think I’ll take a walk.”

“Would you like company?”

“No. I’d rather be alone.”

Ouch.

“There’s food in the bag.”

“Okay.”

She shouted a half-hearted “Bye” as she saw him go, missing him already. The mix of feelings inside of her made her forehead wrinkle and her eyebrows stoop down.

He never did things on whims, but the feelings which resided in him overwhelmed him. They did that when she was around. “I’m thinking about moving out.”

If he’d seen her eyes, he would’ve seen the deepest of fears.

Her hair covered her eyes. “What?”

“Yeah. See you.”

We get along just fine.

---

REMUS

Remus stared at the ceiling above him. Her words seemed to get to him tonight more than he thought they would. He was often confused by her. But this time felt different. This time, he wished he’d understood her. What had she been talking about? Lily and them not being a good couple? And why had she been so upset by it?

Perhaps…

A thought, an old hope, was lit up once again. Old dreams of holding hands, sharing food, sharing life, started to replay in his head. Parallel in his mind, was what he deemed reality. The times when she wouldn’t listen, when her sharp words hurt. Her selfishness.

We get along just fine.

He wondered, was it really true? Or was it something he’d tried to convince himself of these past years?

A thought passed his mind. A thought he often found himself playing with. Why not just leave?

Leave her and her sharp tongue. Her childish ways. Her selfish priorities. Leave her and her honesty. Her lovely laugh. Her whimsical world.

He could never leave her.

The old flame inside his chest was lit again, and it became harder to put out, to bury, after each time. The glow shuddered, only to burn even brighter. Would she come running after him? He wasn’t sure. He could only hope. He’d read too many novels in his life to know what was truly realistic. To know what life is really like. He wondered, did he want to know? All he wanted, all he knew, was her.

Leave her?

He woke up - he could never do that. He wouldn’t know where to start. Sure, she was infuriating at best. But wasn’t he as well? Weren’t they a match like the ones in Shakespeare’s plays? Spare the deaths and woes, he only wanted her company. So they could have their happy ending. Happily ever after. Or for a short time, at least. Until one of them pissed the other off. And then they’d apologise, and the cycle would repeat. They’d live like hell, and love even more. It would be wonderful. They wouldn’t always get along, but it wouldn’t matter.

A pair of star-cross'd lovers can begin their life.

---

PUCK

She’d felt the need to breath. The air inside the flat didn’t seem like enough. The air outside, in the small park around the corner, wasn’t enough either.

We get along just fine.

He was the best person she’d ever met. He was kind. And smart. He was good-hearted and honest and so all things wonderful. And whenever she saw him, all she felt about him became so much, and she didn’t know where to go. So she’d explode every now and then. She’d thought he could stand it. Sometimes, she even thought he liked it. But it seemed it wasn’t so. Perhaps it never was.

Perhaps...

---

They found each other a few hours later.

She’d never seen him so sure. He was having tea, reading something by Shakespeare, at the kitchen table.

“Hi.”

Was he always this good-looking?

“Greetings to thee.” He just wanted to smile at her. But he didn’t find it the right time.

Surely, it must be a trick of the light, she thought. Or just her tired eyes seeing something else. Light brown hair, slightly ruffled in the way only he could do it. The most perfect face shape - and Godrick, that jawline. Long, freckled nose. Eyes she wished only she knew. Was this really her friend? Or had someone taken her dear Remus’ place when she was sleeping?

She felt a sudden need to say something nice. Something friendly, like “I love you”. Quick, “How… are you?”

“How am I?”

“Yes. How are you?”

“I’ve known you for… four years”, he looked up at her with his kind eyes, a smile finally taking form. “And I don’t think you’ve ever asked me that.”

She gave him a look.

“Well then. I’m quite anxious on this Saturday morning.”

“About?”

“Something very important.”

“Hmm. I hope it’ll turn out alright for you.”

“So do I.”

His eyes were so honest. It struck her like a spotlight. She loved the way he looked at her. He was all the audience she needed.

“We should...”

Make out?

“...talk.”

Her eyes didn’t betray her mind for once, “Ok. You could… ”

Kiss you?

“... meet me after rehearsal?”

He masked his disappointment flawlessly. “Sure. When d’you get off?”

“At nine, hopefully.” She found her script and slid it into a backpack. She shrugged on her ragged jeans jacket, adding a scarf for warmth and comfort. The early spring outside wasn’t too kind to freezing souls.

“Fine. I’ll meet you then.”

“See you!”

---

ROMEO

She speaks:

O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head

As is a winged messenger of heaven

Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.

JULIET

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

---

They met outside in the park outside the theatre.

She: “You know, I’m in love with you.”

He found no words. Of all the books he’d read, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He could, however, think of some things to do.

Take hold of her hand. Find her closer. Let their lips meet.

“I love you.”

“That’s right”, her face scrunched into a grimace, it seemed like she was trying to change her insides. “Damnit!”

He still couldn’t understand all of her. But he could try. He could ask.“What?”

Her arms flew out into a gesture, before she looked at him through frustrated eyes. “I promised myself I’d be nicer to you. Now that we’re in love an all.”

He had to smile at her. “Please don’t be.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

That earned him a kiss. And another. And another.

She let go of him, laughing, “Now I can really see what Lily meant with us not being an ideal couple…”

Their faces were close, they could hear each others quietest whispers. He sighed, “Hmm. Screw ideal.”

“How about we screw each other?”

He laughed, “I’m not entirely opposed to that idea.”

He finally felt he’d succeeded with suave. Cool and collected. At the same time, burning and all over the place.

She tugged at his hand, leaned in and whispered like she was telling a secret, “Wanna go eat at the Indian place?”

“Perhaps we could make a small stop first?”

“Where to?”

“I was thinking home.”

His eyes told her exactly what he meant. Her face turned rosy at his thoughts.

She leaned in, and he expected a sweet word, or something like it. Her nose almost touched his ear as she said, “Race you to it!”

She was already running at full speed when he straightened up.

“The loser has to pay for dinner!”

Their laughs echoed through the streets. And their life as star-cross'd lovers took its first breaths.

---

taglists

permanent: @rocking-like-a-ravenclaw / @kapolisradomthoughts / @siriusement / @electraheart-isdead / @classy-sith-lady / @hermione-who / @pompeiianbollocker / @theseuscmander

remus lupin: @writingwitchly / @serenefreakgeek / @spideyfan456 / @un-nouveau-soleil / @evyiione / @reggieblck / @bookworm0123

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #young!remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #writing challenge #oh my god they were flat mates #friends to lovers #pining #the marauders

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the-neon-writer · 3 years

Text

Fuck it, it may not be edited and it may change still, but here’s Cara’s Intro. She’s yet another character in my maybe novel that is coming along slowly. I may have not won NaNoWriMo but i still got further with progress. So i’m proud of myself. I have one more characters intro left to write. I promise it’ll be a good one when it arrives. In the mean time enjoy this as a special christmas treat 😉🎄😉

Cara’s Intro

She wasn’t sure where he had come from, but he was there nonetheless. The man had just appeared one day and decided to take care of her. What made it stranger was that people usually looked down on her because of the way she looked. But this man did not. She may have been young, but she knew how the world worked, the other street urchins had taught her that. She had to be smarter and tougher than the rest of them if she wanted to survive. He was different though, he didn’t seem to care about the colour of her skin, or what people whispered when they saw her with him.

It had taken some time to start trusting him and he had given her all the time she needed. The moment she knew she could trust him was her first full moon. She had no clue what was happening to her, she felt like she was being ripped to shreds from the inside out and she had no control over what was happening to her. They had been staying at a farmhouse on the outskirts of Dublin. He was in the other room and she assumed he’d heard her yell. She remembered seeing him rush in, sword in hand. She couldn’t control what was happening, it was like she was watching someone else control her body, but she charged towards him. All he did was just wrap her in a tight hug and whisper that it was going to be ok and that he would help her no matter what, that he would never leave her side as long as she needed him.

After that they grew closer, he was like an older brother that she’d never had in her life. He helped her understand what she was going through and patiently taught her to control the beast as best he could.

She had a purpose now, she was informing on people for him. People didn’t care enough to notice street urchins so she could slip into and out of most places without ever being seen. She spied on priests and gentlemen, ladies in fancy bonnets and young brats of rich families. She trailed them throughout the town and reported their activities to him. She wasn’t quite sure why she was spying on these people, but more often than not, she never saw them again. So one day she asked him why he was looking for those people. And he told her, that’s why she trusted him, he told her the truth if only she asked. She was angry and confused but he explained why these people needed to be eliminated, though, sometimes, on rare occasions, he didn’t eliminate people in the literal sense. A few times during the years, she helped him smuggle people out, making it look like they were gone permanently but really they were just removed from the equation.

He told her about The Council when she turned 12. That made her understand it a little better, why he killed the people he did and spared the ones he did.

“Now I don’t always agree with the council, but, I have to trust their judgment on most things. They’re family and I guess I’m sorta stuck with ‘em. I do have a noggin’ of me own though, and they’re not always as smart as they think they are. I’m tellin ye this so that ye can understand why they can never know ‘bout ya Cara.” That’s what he had told her, “I’ve seen that not all of ye are evil and mindless bloodshed sickens me, so I hope ya know that I’d never hurt ya. Do you trust me?” She had believed him, foolish, she now knew people always ended up hurting you.

The beast was growing with her and it was becoming stronger also. And not long after her 12th birthday, the beast spoke for the first time. It was just a regular day and she was out on the streets trying to nick whatever she could off the rich blokes and snobby arses who thought themselves so much better than her. She didn’t need the money but it made her feel good to get payback.

She’d just nicked a shiny pocket watch from a well-dressed gentleman when she saw a gang of other street kids approach her. She knew them since forever, she’d always managed to slip away right under their noses, but this time she was so enamoured with her find that it was too late when she noticed them.

“Whatchu got there girly,” said one of them, snatching the watch from her hands.

“Oi give it back ye thick gobshite, that’s my find,” she tried to snatch it back but the boy was taller.

“Or what, s’not like anyone’s gonna help you,” he looked her up and down disapprovingly and giggled with his mates.

“I suggest you give it back, boy,” it was a deep booming voice, with an accent so far from Irish it was startling.

“Oi who said that, show yerself ya flute.”

“If you insist,” Cara felt herself lose control again, this hadn’t happened in years even on a full moon, but she wasn’t trying to fight it this time. It lunged at the boy and she felt it sink its teeth into his neck and the life drain out of him with a horrible crunch. She remembered seeing the horrified looks of the other street kids and saw them start running for their lives. A pool of blood was forming next to her and she saw her reflection for the first time, only it wasn’t her, it was It. It was huge, with a long sharp muzzle and glistening black fur, its ears were pointed and its eyes glowed gold. It had a slender jackal like figure, yet it was bipedal and more muscular than any human or beast.

The next thing she remembered was the chase, following the kids into the night, not even trying to regain control, the taste of blood and revenge sweeter than honey in their mouth. It caught up to them quick enough, they were hiding in an alleyway, It could hear their frantic heartbeats and smell their fear in the air. The fear tasted sweetest of all, filling It with new vigour and jest to toy with its prey.

It approached slowly giving the brats hope that it couldn’t find them, it paced in front of their hiding spot and took off at a short run to make them think it left. It didn’t. It waited for a few moments as it climbed onto the roof above them. It was about to jump them and rip them to shreds when they heard a voice.

“Cara, please, stop.” And there he was, but he wasn’t comforting or jovial. He was holding a crossbow, and it was aimed at them. “I can’t let you hurt innocent people, no matter how much I care about you.”

They turned to face him, jaws dripping with fresh blood and it spoke, “They aren’t innocent, are they…”

“Fer fucks sake they’re children, Cara, listen to yerself.”

“I’M NOT CARA.” Its voice echoed across the rooftops and silence fell between them as beast and hunter stared each other down.

“Cara, please, you can control it.”

“Oh, I don’t think she wants to anymore!” Cara was in there, but she had no control, but she was no longer certain she wanted this. It all seemed wrong all of a sudden.

It suddenly shuddered and stepped back to keep its balance.

“Cara, think about all the good we’ve done, please don’t undo it all now.”

The creature shuddered again but its eyes glowed golden, brighter than the sun. It growled and the growl permeated the air around it and cut the silence like a knife. The shuddering stopped and it looked up at him. Then it charged, but he had been ready, he hadn’t been training to hunt monsters his entire life for nothing. Before it even took 2 steps he had fired the bolt.

It stopped in its tracks and fell forward onto all four. Cara couldn’t take back control even then, she was scared but there was nothing she could do. She didn’t want to die, not yet, not like this, not afraid.

She awoke again in that warm room with a fireplace. She wondered if it had all been a dream or if she had died and this was meant to be the afterlife. But then she tried to move and it was painful. Her whole body was racked with pain as she tried to lift herself into a sitting position on the couch. She must have made some noise because she then saw him enter. He had a dagger on him made of silver, it was sheathed, but she could smell the silver.

“Don’t move, please.”

She stopped trying to sit up.

“Look, I know it wasn’t your fault that it took over, I couldn’t’ve prepared ye fer that. Something like that has happened very rarely in history and the accounts were all second-hand experiences.”

“w-what,” was all she managed to say, her tongue felt like a useless stone in her mouth.

“Yer not the same as It. There’s two of ye now.” he sighed, he looked tired and sad all of a sudden and she could finally see the age in his eyes, he forgot to hide the pain that only comes with old age, it was there for only a second before it was gone like sunlight on a winter’s day.

”You caused a lot of trouble, Cara. I don’t know how long before they notice something off, but we definitely have to leave Dublin.”

”Y-you shot me,” she struggled out, her muscles weren’t being cooperative.

”Right, yes, in yer shoulder, wolfsbane, gives a nasty shock to the system. I wasn’t actually goin’ t’ kill ya, just wanted to scare you to your senses, didn’t account on It having a will aside yer own”

She looked at him but try as she might she couldn’t tell how he was feeling, she never could.

“Get some rest,” he said as he turned to leave the room, “We’ll have to leave in the morning.”

He closed the door behind him and Cara was alone again. She was so tired, every nerve in her body thrummed with fatigue, ”shifting” was a very physically tiring process she had noticed. Before long sleep overtook her, she dreamed of a moonless night being chased by a figure with a deep foreign voice that encircled her as she ran.

#creative writing #short story #storytelling #writers of tumblr #original character #christmas treat #i promise i’ll have a dope surprise for new years #like seriously it’s gonna be whack #but hopefully fun #spoiler alert: it’s gonna be a romeo and juliette style forbidden romance #but with a twist owo

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oveliagirlhaditright · 4 years

Text

RokuShi Day Fic 1/Day 1. Prompt: Pining

Chemistry

Xion was jealous of Roxas and Olette... It was silly and dumb—she knew that it was, because they were great together and deserved every happiness—but it was what it was. Though she made certain that her feelings didn’t cloud her judgement and that she became mean to either party.

It had all started when Roxas had suddenly latched onto Olette as the "normal one" in their group of friends. For as much as Roxas loved Hayner, he—like all of them—could get annoyed with his temper when it came to all things Seifer... as well as his hare-brained schemes, that he barely helped out with. And Pence had really been getting into his superstitions lately, which kept him from being “normal”… whatever that word meant.

And as for Xion herself? Well, she'd probably been venting to Roxas too much about how she wasn't sure she wanted Isa in their lives... It was a work and progress, anyway. So Xion understood why Roxas would end up going with Olette, especially since Olette was a constant pillar of light, in helping him—them—from flunking the year.

And then Roxas had gallantly offered to be Olette's date for the dance. And that was when it had really become clear to Xion that she’d never be in Roxas’ heart… at least not in the way she wanted to be.

And ever since that date, Roxas and Olette had been inseparable. And it warmed Xion's heart and broke it at the same time.

At the moment, Xion and Vivi were in science class together. And he was secretly using some of the magic that he apparently had, to get the Bunsen burner cold while they put a pop can on top of it. Xion had told him to do this, as she was pretty sure that that was what their teacher had instructed them to do. But it was hard to remember, because she couldn’t keep her attention from wandering over to Roxas and Olette.

...If she was hearing them at their table correctly, it sounded like Roxas was saying how weird it was, that every young adult book had the intended couple in it as lab partners in it... and Olette was laughing at that jest... Because of course she was. She, like Roxas now, was well read enough to get the joke, it seemed, whereas Xion wasn't… She didn’t know that “lab partner romance” seemed to be a trend.

And it was as Xion was having that depressing thought, that Vivi's words reached her. "Xion, you were wrong! We weren’t supposed to freeze the can and then heat it. We were supposed to do it in the reverse order!”

But it was too late.

Xion had made the mistake of rapidly heating a cold can instead of rapidly cooling a hot one, and the item exploded!

Thankfully, Xion was able to whip out her Keyblade just in time—to use an aero spell, so that the shrapnel wouldn't rain down on anyone and hurt them.

But her experiment was a failure—and she even had Roxas and Olette's attention now—and she put her head on her desk and dreamed of somehow fazing into it so no one would see her.

...

In the end, Xion actually wasn't in trouble for the experiment gone wrong. Rather, her teacher was impressedthat she'd figured out how to make it explode all on her own, and thus must have greatly been improving in her understanding of Chemistry… though he of course pointed out that she should never do such a thing again. He also seemed moved by the “phenomenon that had been around her to lessen the blast”. And Xion had had to lie through her teeth to try and think of a convincing answer that had nothing to do with Keyblades, magic, or other worlds.

And once she had miraculously done that, she was happily out the door and heading home.

“Xion!” Roxas called her name as soon as she began heading in that direction, whilst he hurried down the stairs after her. “Hey, wait up! Don’t you want to walk home together? And, hey… are you okay? What happened with the experiment today? I saw that you… you and Vivi took down the notes right, so-”

Oh, no. Was Roxas reprimanding her in the way that Isa had used to? As that depressing thought and trauma came back to Xion, the best she could do was come up with the best explanation she could think of and try to sound sincere. “S- Sorry, Roxas. I freaked out and forgot what I was doing. I swear I transported back into the girl I was in Organization XIII, who knew nothing of the world… strange.”

“…Do you want to talk about it?” Roxas asked her now, as he ran to her side and dropped his books so he could put a hand on her face. And oh, how that hurt in the best way possible. And Roxas looked so beautiful in the sunlight that Xion wanted to cry. “Xion, you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right? I’m sorry I stopped listening to you about Isa some—you have every right to feel how you do about him—but I just felt torn in the middle, since you were hurt by Isa ,and Le- Axel was singing his praises. But I swear I’m here for you.”

Xion smiled, and even leaned towards Roxas some. She couldn’t help it. Because while this didn’t solve her problem about Roxas loving another… she had felt heartbroken she’d been, that Roxas hadn’t been listening to her about this touchy subject lately. So, she was glad that he was here now.

“Thanks, Roxas!” Xion exclaimed, as she clapped her hands together—taking a page from Kairi and Naminé’s books, probably—“but I- I swear I’m doing better with this now. But let’s celebrate being good friends again! Why don’t we go see a movie… platonically, of course. We’ll get all of our friends together, and-”

“…Will Vivi be there?”

‘Wow. Roxas must really be trying to be certain that Olette wouldn’t get the wrong impression that the two of us like each other’, Xion thought. 'I'd better try and reassure him.' "Of course he will. Vivi is our friend, right? Especially since we found out he's sick... right?"

"Right..."

But Roxas didn’t seem to like something about that answer, because he let Xion walk home alone, after all, as he suddenly seemed to recall that he had a chess club meeting that night… But when had Roxas ever been in the chess club? Xion thought it best to leave that conundrum alone, and bring Axel and Isa the fried ice cream she’d made in home economics, before it spoiled.

…

That night, when they were back home—though Xion had thought that she and Roxas were somewhat thick as thieves again—he didn't say a word to her at dinner (and rather seemed to be promptly ignoring her). And so Xion was left wondering what she'd done wrong…

Xion had gone back to her room pretty miserable then, and had called Vivi on the phone like she often did, and had fun talking to him about their video editing class…

And just when Xion was done talking to him, Roxas suddenly walked into her room and gave her a look, that she was instantly coming up with come back after come back for whatever he was about to say. "Don't you think you should lay back when it comes to Vivi some? He's younger than us, and-"

But what he did say had certainly took the wind out of her sails, so that Xion could only look at him dumbfounded as she knelt on her bed. "…Roxas, he's a year younger than us ,but in our grade because he's a genius who got promoted. Where is this coming from? I thought you wanted me to hangout with Vivi! And at least I'm not like you, pretty much bribing a teacher, to let you go to the next grade so you can stay by Olette’s side!"

And for the first time since Roxas had fallen in love with another, Xion let her envy on full display… and she hated that her beloved had to see her like this. Hadn’t she always tried to be the selfless one?

"Wait... what?!" Roxas asked. He sounded confused; and this got to Xion, because usually when Roxas was upset about something… well, his first reaction was to be angry. So, the fact that he just sounded confusednow must have meant something. And was it Xion... or did his next words have a sympathetic air to them? "Xion, do you think I'm in love with Olette?"

Xion blinked a few times at this, as it all suddenly came together in her heart. But what was one to expect from her? She'd just figured out that the boy she'd loved for so long wasn't with another, after all... and that he'd been afraid that she was.

And it was at this point, that Xion burst out laughing and kicked her legs to and fro, as she completely fell back onto her periwinkle bed.

And Roxas blushed, and rubbed the back of his neck in what looked to be an embarrassed manner. If she had to guess, she would have assumed he’d done the math, too. But right now, she was too amused to put that belief into words. "We've, uh, been pretty dumb here, Xion. Haven't we? I've just been hanging out with Olette because I thought you were with Vivi... and since her family was making fun of her for not having a date to prom. It was a whole thing. But you and Vivi... you've just been friends?"

And Xion rocketed off her bed and ran towards Roxas so fast, that she dove into his arms. It was actually a wonder that her socked feet hadn't caused the rug to catch on fire, honestly… How ironic, that would have been. "Roxas,” Xion giggled, as she held Roxas’ face in her hands this time, “I can only ever just be friends with someone who isn't you. How have you not figured out yet that I love you, when I sacrificed myself for you and so much else?"

If it had been Sora with Kairi, Xion thought, he would've been shocked by this... said he loved Kairi too, or any number of things. But not Roxas, because he wasn't Sora—she wasn't either—and neither was she Kairi.

Instead, Roxas came forward, kissed her passionately for some beautiful seconds, and then grabbed her hand to begin leading her downstairs. "Xion, what do you say we head downstairs, and give Lea and Isa the nightmare that we're dating? I think that will be hella fun. And get back at Isa for how he treated you some, maybe.”"

And while Xion was pretty sure that Axel and Isa must’ve known it was going to go this way for a while, Xion squeezed Roxas' hand—and let him move her, thank you very much—and shouted "Let's!"

And something about the way they moved, did catch the fuzzy steps on fire.

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