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beauvibaby · 3 years

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Purple and Yellow – j.oleksiak

• Jamie Oleksiak goes through heartbreak and challenges along with his daughter but then he meets a woman who seems to catch both their hearts •

a/n: ok this is NOT proof read at all I’m sorry but I knew if I went back and did that I’d end up hating it and not wanting to post it but I know y’all wanted it so here you go!

Word Count: 6.1k

Jamie knew he was going to Seattle, and he’d be lying if he said the proposition didn’t excite him, but once his name was inked on that paper, reality came crashing in. He had to up and move his daughter, she was only three, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. But who was he kidding, everything is hard with a three year old. And how would he explain that they wouldn’t be able to visit mommy every weekend, just like they did every weekend since. That’s all that plagued his mind as he drove home from the airport, Ivy was waiting for him, but he knew she’d succumb to her sleepiness before he could get there. His parents already texting him with a picture of her half asleep on the couch.

Then, the cars on the other side of the road slammed on their brakes, the sound of tires spinning out made everything come rushing back.

“Is this the father of Ivy Oleksiak?” Jamie didn’t even have a chance to speak before the words came across the phone, “yes, who’s speaking?” Jamie replied, heart rate picking up at the soft sigh the woman let out. “Your daughter and Miss Cora Hadley were brought into Medical City from a car accident scene.” All she said were those words before he was rushing to his feet, “are they ok?” He asked quickly, never getting a pair of shoes on so quickly in his life. “Sir, I’m not–“ “Bullshit! Is my baby and my fiancé ok?” He snapped, based on the way she whimpered, a rather young woman on the other end of the line. “Your daughter will be fine, just some scratches, the car seat did it’s job.” She spoke slowly, her breath hitching. “I think it’s best you get here as quickly as possible.” She spoke carefully, and in that moment Jamie’s heart fell to his feet like an anchor, he could feel his stomach twisting and his eyes burning. He knew what those words meant. Then he thought of Ivy and that snapped him out of his daze, he had to get there, now.

Jamie pulled into his driveway safely this night, parking beside his parents car, a sigh escaping his lips, forcing the terrible memories from two and a half years ago away. He gathered his bags, and lugged them inside, smiling at his family all asleep in the living room. That made him forget that oh so familiar ache in his chest just a little bit more. He put his bags in the corner, those could wait, but right now all he needed was to hold his baby girl. He scooped Ivy up, smiling as she fluttered her eyes open just enough to see him. “Daddy.” She murmured, “hi bug.” He inhaled the scent of her toddler shampoo, his mom always taking care of her hair the best, brushing the detangler through the unruly hair she got from her father. “Sleep with you.” Ivy whined when he started heading for her room, normally he didn’t give in, not wanting her to be dependent on him to sleep, but he needed her tonight too. “Just tonight princess.” He gave in, bringing her to his room with him, where she fell asleep instantly when he placed her on the plush bed.

Jamie laid awake, staring at the ceiling for a little while, thinking of how he would tell Ivy about having to move. “I hope you’re proud of me.” He whispered out, his tears staying pooled in his eyes as he forced himself to calm down. “Sleep daddy.” Ivy complained, nuzzling closer to him. “Hold me.”

“Jamie.” Cora whispered, hoping he was awake despite the late hour, he grunted in response, being a light sleeper ever since he found out Cora was pregnant. “Hold me.” She demanded with a light tone, her back aching and stomach bulging as Ivy kicked around in there. Jamie blindly opened his arms for her, letting her settle into his chest. “Always.” He murmured, already half asleep as she sighed in content.

“Come here baby girl.” Jamie murmured at Ivy, letting her rest her head upon his chest, Ivy was a very cuddly little girl, the second she was comfortable with you, she’d be sitting in your lap and telling you stories and anything to be touching you. It was one of Jamie’s favorite things, especially when he came home from a roadie and all she wanted was to be held by him.

***

“Daddy!” Ivy called, she managed to climb onto the bathroom counter to brush her teeth but now she was too scared to get down, “daddy!” She shrieked again, Jamie’s eyes fluttered open as he quickly took in his surroundings, “daddy, I stuck!” Ivy called, this time sounding annoyed by his lack of response. He threw the blanket off as he knew where she was stuck, this was a common occurrence. He appeared in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed over his chest, “and just what do you think you’re doing?” Jamie asked his daughter as she made grabby hands for him, she grinned brightly at him, “I brushed my teeth!” She answered in a duh tone, she grabbed his face once he scooped her up, kissing the tip of his nose, and he the same to her, “I’m very happy you brushed your teeth, Ivy, but you know you’re not supposed to get on the counter, that’s why we got you a stool, remember?” He explained, for easily the tenth time in the past month. “I know.” She huffed, dramatically pushing her hair back, making Jamie chuckle as he walked down the stairs, hearing his parents talking in the kitchen.

“Well, good morning sleepy heads.” Alison teased as Ivy gasped at the sight of pancakes on the counter, Jamie shook his head with a smile, placing her on the seat beside his dad, “I’ll make you a special plate.” Richard quipped to the little girl, which really just meant drawing a smiley face on it with whip cream. “Thanks mom.” Jamie gave his mom a kiss on the cheek before shuffling around to get his coffee, desperately needing the sleep kicked out of his system. “When are you going to tell her?” Alison asked, taking a small bite of her food, giving her son the side eye when he hesitated. “Today.” He gave in, knowing he absolutely had to start packing now, otherwise it would never be done in time. “So, Ivy, do you have any plans for today?” Alison shifted her attention to her granddaughter, figuring they could take her out to do something so he could get more done. “Gonna go see momma!” She cheered, some syrup smeared around her mouth.

Jamie froze, it was Saturday already, he checked his phone and felt humiliated that he had forgotten his promise to take Ivy to the cemetery. Evidently the panic was written across his face when both his parents stared at him. “Why don’t grandma and I bring you? We haven’t been there in a while.” Richard offered, rubbing Ivy’s back when she looked to Jamie for permission. “I think that would be nice, right baby?” Jamie finally found his voice, and Ivy nodded brightly, anytime she got with her grandparents was cherished. “Daddy coming to?” She asked, tilting her head as he sipped on his coffee, “I’ve got some work to do, alright, I’ll go next time.” He assured her, shooting his dad a thankful look as he quickly changed the subject before she could pester on any further.

“Ivy, I need to talk to you.” Jamie announced, he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to do it and be done. Alison nearly choked on her coffee and Richard looked at his empty plate like it was suddenly the most interesting thing. Ivy nodded, munching away on her pancakes, not understanding the severity of what was about to be said.

Jamie cleared his throat and pulled out the chair beside her, “you know how I had to go away to this new place for work, yeah?” He reminded her, “Seattle.” He said, and she nodded, “Seattle.” She repeated, not entirely perfect but good enough. “I got a job over there.” He spoke, waiting to see what she thought. “Hockey?” She asked, confusion lacing her tone. “Yes, still hockey.” Jamie chuckled softly, “it’s with a new team.” He paused, glancing away for a second, “we have to move there.” He concluded. Ivy nodded slowly, “new house?” She asked, she might be young, but she knew that moving meant not in this house. “Yeah, new house, new city, new people.” Jamie explained, panicking when she went wide eyed, “what about uncle Ro-Ro?” Ivy asked, referring to Miro, she was closest to the young defenseman as she always saw him beside her dad on the ice. The nickname had been dubbed upon him when she was learning to speak and liked to repeat things. “We can visit, baby.” Jamie spoke softly, heart breaking as she began to sniffle. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, he knew the realization was coming. “But Momma!” She sobbed.

And that completely shattered his heart.

“I know.” He picked her up, feeling her sob into his neck, “momma.” She whimpered, though she didn’t remember her, Jamie made sure to keep her an important part of her life. Ivy didn’t know that she loved going to a gravestone that much until this moment. “Hey, look at me, bug.” Jamie demanded gently, situating her to be in front of him. He sat her on the countertop and stood in front of her, “momma will always be with us, right? Isn’t that what I always say?” He explained to her. Ivy nodded slowly, she was so young but always acting older, trying to wrap her head around this. “Yeah.” She mumbled sheepishly, cheeks red and eyes puffy, she felt shy under the gaze of her grandparents. “It’s alright, daddy’s sad too.” He assured her, lowering his head to be eye level with her. She stared into his eyes, reminding him so much of Cora in that moment, and once again she kissed the tip of his nose. “No sad daddy.” She demanded, drumming her fingers on his cheek. He pecked her forehead, “alright baby.” He agreed, if she could do it, so could he, right?

***

Ivy slept the whole plane ride, which is what Jamie was hoping for as they would be meeting the moving truck at the new house, plenty of things to be done asap.

“Come on Ivy.” Jamie mumbled, carrying her off the plane as she groggily woke up, looking around slightly confused until she remembered what was going on today. “Daddy, Seattle?” She asked, lifting her head from his shoulder, he chuckled, lowering her so she wasn’t so high up on his chest. “Yeah, Seattle baby.” He assured her, her pigtails bouncing as she looked around rapidly. He smiled at her reaction to the airport alone.

“What do you think, Ivy?” Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows as the three year old spun to face him. “Love it!” She squealed, her room was twice as big in this place than her bedroom in Dallas, and Jamie told her she could pick whatever color (within reason) to have her walls painted. Of course she would love it here. Jamie looked around their new-but-empty-house one more time, sighing as he could picture Ivy growing older in this house.

Time to make it a home.

“Hi.” Ivy grinned up at one of the movers as he placed a stack of boxes in her room, Jamie just being outside the door heard her speaking, he raised an eyebrow waiting to hear the guy speak. “Hello.” The young guy spoke sweetly, chuckling at the little girl. “I’m three.” She spoke, “how old are you?” She asked, Jamie held in a snicker as he walked in. “Ivy, leave him alone, bug.” He laughed softly, the guy taking it as his excuse to go get more boxes. “Ugh.” She huffed, flopping down on her bed dramatically, Jamie rolled his eyes, looking around. “What color do you want?” He asked the opinionated little girl, he sat beside her, smiling as she stood next to him, being eye level with him. “Hmm, purple!” She gasped, looking around the currently beige room, Jamie nodded slowly, “light purple.” He countered, knowing she would want to choose the darkest shade. “Fine.” She giggled, “we can go tomorrow, alright? Today we need to focus on finding all your stuff.” He tickled her sides.

***

Ivy was tugging on Jamie’s hand, somehow spotting the paint section quicker than he could. “Slow down!” He laughed heartily, his daughter shooting him a glare as he purposely slowed his feet down. He hoisted Ivy up to see the purple swatches along the top row, she reached for a dark one, just like Jamie knew she would. He sighed, “Ivy, we agreed on light purple, what about this one?” He offered, grabbing a lavender type color, she grunted in disgust, shaking her head dramatically, her blonde curls hitting his face. “Love this one.” She pouted, holding it in front of his face.

Jamie held in a sigh as you walked past him, stopping to look at paint swatches as well. “What about this one?” Jamie compromised, it was darker than he wanted to go, but still light enough to not feel like a dungeon. Ivy’s lip began to quiver, quickly catching both Jamie and the woman’s attention. “Ivy.” Jamie sighed softly, you intervened, “you know, I wanted a dark purple room when I was your age too.” You spoke to Ivy, catching her attention as she lifted her head, Jamie shifting slightly, giving you a smile. “My dad wouldn’t let me do it.” You made a face, getting a giggle out of Ivy, “he was right though, but guess what we compromised?” You mused, holding your hand out for the paint swatches that Jamie had. He handed them over with ease, “we painted one wall, dark, the wall I had my bed on, and the rest we did light.” You explained, Jamie giving Ivy a bright smile when she looked at him like it was the greatest idea ever. “We can do that, Ivy.” He agreed, and you giggled, “glad I could be of help.” You added.

“Thank you,” Jamie paused, waiting for a name. “Y/N.” You told him, smiling at the pair, “and your name is?” You asked, already figuring the little girl's name was Ivy. “Jamie.” He introduced himself. “What are you painting?” Ivy asked boldly, not one to talk much around new people, Jamie set her down so she could look at other colors, amused by her sudden interest. “I’m painting my dining room.” You answered, squatting down to her level, “do you have any color suggestions?” You asked Ivy. Jamie gave you a look that said you really don’t have to entertain her but you just gave him a smile. “Yellow.” Ivy announced, looking at the wall and grabbing actually, a very nice swatch, it was just yellow enough. You tilted your head as you looked at it, imagining it in your space. “That’s a very pretty color, Ivy.” You told her, smiling brightly as she blushed, handing you the color sample. “Thank you, Y/N.” She spoke politely, even though the words didn’t come out perfectly, it was a great attempt. “You’re welcome.” You stood to your full height, shocking Jamie by walking over to the counter to order the paint, no hesitation that a random little girl picked it out.

“You don’t have to-“ Jamie started to say, but you shrugged, giving him a happy smile, “I just got a new place, a fresh start, yellow seems fitting.” You told him. Jamie gave you a lopsided smile, if only you knew he was doing the same. “Daddy, this ones.” Ivy gasped, giving him two swatches, he chuckled at her grammar, squatting down to her level, “you’re sure?” He asked, he knew after all it was just paint, and if it turned out so terrible, they could paint over it but he didn’t want to have to do this twice. “This one looks like momma's dress!” Ivy explained, Jamie looked at the dark purple in his hand, instantly remembering Cora in that dress, Ivy’s favorite picture of her that she kept in her room. Suddenly her color choice made sense, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop, your heart stopping at Jamie’s next words. “Yeah, I think momma would have loved this.”

Was she… dead? You tried to knock the thought from your head, they were so young, but you knew accidents happened. You quickly looked away as Jamie stood back up, “here you go ma’am.” The teenager behind the counter spoke, you took the gallon from him, shooting him a smile. “Have a good day.” You told him, offering Jamie and Ivy a wave. “Will I see you again?” Ivy asked, Jamie nearly had heart failure right there as you stopped and giggled. “Oh I don’t know sweetheart, Seattle is a really big city. But don’t you worry, if I ever see you out and about I’ll be sure to say hello.” You assured her, watching as she got all giddy and slightly hid behind her father again. “Bye.” You told him, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling any wider. “Bye, Y/N.” He mumbled, seeming a little dazed as he made his way up to the counter.

***

It had been nearly a week in the new house, the walls were done, almost everything was unpacked and they were starting to feel a sense of normalcy. Jamie loved the neighborhood they ended up in, a true mix of all different people, yes their house was rather large, but it was still homey. The community was sprawling, having a little bit of everything, stand alone homes, townhomes, even some condos, there were plenty of kids around which made him feel good about his choice as he followed Ivy down the road as she rode her bike. “Slow down, Ivy.” Jamie cautioned as she was getting a good bit ahead of him, she huffed dramatically and slowed down, waiting for him to catch up. She was looking around at the houses, confused as to why they were attached, even though Jamie had explained it to her plenty of times. Ivy gasped so loudly, that you could hear it from your front lawn where you were spray painting a piece of furniture. You glanced over and did a double take.

There was absolutely no way, you refused to believe you were actually seeing this, then you saw Jamie and you were convinced the universe either loved you for letting you see him again, or hated you, as you were in ratty old painting clothes.

“Ivy!” You grinned, laughing when the little girl flew off her bike, letting it fall sideways, making Jamie groan, “hi Y/N!” She squealed running up your lawn. You smiled brightly as she hugged your leg, “Ivy.” Jamie called, giving you an apologetic smile but you shrugged it off. “Did you paint your room?” You asked the little girl as she pulled away, a pink tint to her cheeks, she nodded, her blonde curls bouncing in her ponytail. “Yay, that’s great!” You cheered, Jamie walked up behind her, “hi, Y/N. How are you?” He asked, his daughter leaning back against his legs as you two spoke. “Good, been busy making this place my own.” You laughed, motioning to the small townhome behind you. It was your first solo place, and you absolutely adored it, even if it needed some work. “Yeah, you always forget how much work it is moving into a new place.” He agreed, chuckling softly. “Did you do yellow?” Ivy asked, rocking on her feet. “I did.” You assured her, “would you two like to go in and see it?” You asked, cringing internally as you waited to look up at Jamie. “Sure.” He answered, grabbing his daughter's hand, following you inside.

You led them to the dining room, giggling as Ivy gasped, “so pretty!” She cheered, the yellow paid off, it made the space feel much more happy. “All because of you.” You told her, she asked if she could look at the pictures you had sitting on the entry table and you gave her a quick nod, giving you and Jamie a chance to talk. “Same neighborhood? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were stalking me.” You teased him lightly, getting a hearty chuckle out of him. “It is quite the coincidence.” He agreed, he felt butterflies in his stomach for the first time since he had met Cora.

It absolutely terrified him.

***

It had been a few weeks since that day, and you’d seen Ivy outside playing with another woman, Jamie not to be seen. You came out to grab your mail as she went riding by, “hi, Y/N!” She called, continuing to pedal away. “Hi, Ivy.” You spoke, you went over and introduced yourself to the girl, Taylor, finding out she was her babysitter. “Jamie must go out pretty often.” You commented to her, she shook her head, “oh no, he never goes anywhere without Ivy aside from work.” Taylor told you, “he plays hockey, I'm surprised you didn’t know that.” Taylor added, smiling as Ivy came up to the two of you. “We should be going, it’s almost dinner time.” Taylor spoke, she couldn’t be older than 20. You gave them both a smile, “yes! You don’t want to miss that.” You chuckled, bidding them a goodbye before going inside and googling Jamie.

What you found shocked you.

Jamie Oleksiak taking personal time to mourn loss of fiancé.

Jamie Oleksiak, will he be able to balance a professional career and a baby?

Will he bounce back from this?

You clicked the first article, bracing yourself as it loaded.

The date was from almost three years ago, you scrolled down and began to read…

Jamie Oleksiak has announced the sudden passing of his fiancé, Cora Hadley. Together they shared a daughter Ivy, who was also involved in the incident, she is expected to make a complete recovery.

A close friend tells us it was a severe car accident.

Our condolences to the family.

You clicked away from the article as tears burned your eyes. That was terrible. You read some of the other articles and only grew mad at how the reporters belittled his pain, only talking of how poorly his game play had been since then. And though you’d never wish that kind of loss on anyone, you know they wouldn’t be writing like that if they had felt it.

***

You and Jamie exchanged numbers, citing that it was for “neighborhood emergencies” you giggled at the thought as he was currently asking you what he should get Cora for the upcoming Christmas.

She’s the pickiest three year old ever, everyone always tells me that.

Well, what does the pickiest three year old ever like to do?

She’s either riding her bike and getting absolutely filthy or she’s inside playing dress up and being a little princess

Princess car?

They make those?!?

Oh, Jamie, I really need to take you shopping 🤦‍♀️

Tell me when and I’ll be there…

You tell me hot shot, you’re the one that plays hockey for a living.

How did you find out?

Google is a powerful thing… just kidding, Taylor told me.

Of course she did

Saturday afternoon? My parents will be in town and they want to take Ivy out for the day, so it’s a perfect excuse.

You know where I live, see you then!

He started typing, but then the dots went away and you never received another message.

You brushed it off, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in years as you thought of merely shopping with Jamie for Christmas.

****

“You like him!” Your friend gushed to you as you spoke on the phone while getting ready, “no!” You rushed, only proving her point more. “Y/N, really.” Your friend, Amanda, spoke. “There’s nothing wrong with that, he’s clearly attractive and he’s a dad! He’s not going to be a jerk that just messed around with girls! It’s great.” She rambled, you sighed, pulling your jeans on with a little jump, “his fiancé died, Amanda. He could very well not be over that yet, and I wouldn’t blame him.” You explained, she went silent, “well you left that part out, how was I supposed to know.” She mumbled sheepishly. “It was almost three years ago, their baby was only six months old.” You whispered, cursing when your doorbell rang down the stairs. “Shit, shit, I have to go Amanda!” You rushed, hanging up as soon as she said bye. You adjusted the sweater you had on as you rushed down the stairs, careful not to fall flat on your face. You grabbed your purse as you walked past the counter, yelping as you stumbled and landed on your butt. So close.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Jamie called, hearing the thud, “yes, yeah, just a second.” You called out, wincing as you stood up, that was definitely going to hurt later. You finally, finally reached the door and unlocked it, pulling it open and giving him a bright smile. “Did you fall?” He asked instantly, bursting into laughter when your face went blank. “We’re not going to talk about that Jamie.” You chastised, stepping onto your little porch to leave with him. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled, giving you a once over as you locked the door. “Is Ivy excited to be with your parents today?” You asked him, Jamie laughed under his breath, “so excited, she didn’t even care that I was going out.” He told you as he opened the passenger side door of his truck for you. “Thanks.” You mumbled as you slid in, your heart pounding in your chest. He shut the door and made his way around the truck as you adjusted in the seat.

“So, where to?”

****

Jamie was shocked and grimacing at the price of the princess car that he and you both knew Ivy would love. “Is she the type to give up on new toys quickly?” You asked, tilting your head as you both stared at the display, he shook his head as gave in. He had been leaning against the shelves and as he walked away you noticed his phone had fallen out of his pocket, you picked it up so no one would steal it as you waited for him to come back with a cart, and hopefully someone to help him with the box because it was not something you’d be much help with. His phone began to ring in your hand, the contact flashing across the top said mom, you let it ring, you’d tell him as soon as he came back. As soon as it stopped it was ringing again, you panicked and swiped to answer it, worried that something had happened to Ivy. “Hello?” You spoke into the phone, hearing Ivy wailing in the background. Fuck.

“Who is this?” His mother rushed, “I’m Y/N, Jamie forgot his phone he’s walking around the store– is everything alright?” You asked, cutting straight to the point, “no, we’re going to the emergency room, Ivy fell at the park and I think she broke her arm.” His mother rushed, and thankfully you saw Jamie approaching, “Jamie!” You shouted, rushing over, he furrowed his eyebrows seeing you on his phone.

“It’s your mom.” You rushed, giving it to him and you could see the wheels turning in his head as he listened to her speak over Ivy crying. “Shit, alright I’ll meet you there.” He told her, shooting you an apologetic look. “Go.” You assured him, he shook his head grabbing your hand and pulling you along, he wasn’t going to leave you stranded in a department store. “Sorry, he’ll purchase it another day!” You called to the employee who had a blank look on his face. “Let me talk to Ivy.” Jamie demanded after his mom had said something else, “daddy, it hurts!” Ivy got out between cries as his mother held the phone to her ear. “I know, princess. I’ll be there soon alright? I promise.” He assured her, finally releasing your hand as he realized he’d been holding it this whole time.

He managed to get off the phone so he could drive to the hospital, repeatedly apologizing for you being stuck with him and that this happened. “I was going to take you to lunch and ugh I’m just sorry.” You raised an eyebrow at his ramblings as you guys got stuck at a red light less than a mile from the hospital. “Jamie, stop apologizing. She’s your daughter, she always comes first, that’s how it’s supposed to be.” You soothed him, he glanced over at you, nodding softly, “reschedule the lunch?” He asked, despite the panic in his head, he still wanted to make sure you saw that he was interested in you.

“Yeah, we can reschedule, let’s just go see your baby.” You leaned over the center console, kissing his cheek as the light changed, doing a little happy dance in your head at how he blushed deeply at your actions.

“Family only.” The nurse remarked as you were about to follow Jamie to the room Ivy was in. He gave her an incredulous look, “it’s fine, go.” You assured him, pulling away from him to stay in the waiting room. He hesitated but went along, disappearing behind the doors as you picked a seat in the corner, making sure you had a sight line to the doors he went through. Over an hour went by as you sat there, scrolling through your phone, not hearing from Jamie, which you assumed was because he was being bombarded with questions of the girl who answered his phone, while also dealing with Ivy who was not going to enjoy the process of getting a cast.

Your phone chimed with a text just as you had finally decided to get off of it,

Finishing up now, sorry if my parents are a lot

You chuckled at the message, making sure you had all your items, including the little stuffy you’d bought at the hospital gift shop during your time sitting here. You stood up as you saw them walking out, Ivy draped over Jamie’s chest, half asleep with her head on his shoulder. “Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you.” His mom spoke, offering her hand, you repeated the sentiment, as well as with his dad. “Ivy.” You whispered, placing a hand on her back, holding the small stuffed animal in your hand, “I got you a little gift for being such a big brave girl.” You mumbled, she shifted to look at you with her puffy eyes, and pout settled deep on her lips, “thanks.” She whispered, taking it and holding it close to her chest, she kept her eyes on you as you walked behind Jamie, keeping up a conversation with his parents. And he was right, they were kind of a lot, but you pushed through, smiling when Ivy finally fell asleep in the car.

You sat in the back with Ivy, Jamie insisting you didn’t have to but you wanted to. “She handled it pretty well.” Jamie commented as he glanced back to see her asleep with her hand in yours. “She’s a tough little thing.” You agreed, glancing over at him, he gave you a heartwarming smile. “Thanks for coming with me today, I know it didn’t go to plan, but it was nice, you know… before she broke her arm.” He trailed off, pulling into your driveway to drop you off. You carefully pulled your hand from Ivy’s, she didn’t budge as she was exhausted from today.

Jamie got out to say goodbye, surprising you with a quick kiss to the cheek and a promise of that lunch date.

***

“Did some research?” You asked teasingly as Jamie took you to your favorite restaurant, you gave him a sideways glance as he parked the truck, “I may have had some assistance.” He shrugged, making you realize that’s why Ivy was grilling you the other day, when you had offered to watch her since Taylor was unavailable. “You two are trouble.” You quipped, watching him slip out wordlessly before opening your door for you. “But I’m a gentleman.” He reminded you, “a very good one at that.” You agreed, steadying yourself with his shoulders when you hoped down. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He declared, had you not wanted to kiss him so badly you would have teased him for the nervousness in his voice, but you simply looped your arms around his neck and let him sweep you off your feet with a wonderful first kiss.

The first of many.

***

Two months, and many, many, sneaky dates and stolen kisses later…

You were over at Jamie’s house, having dinner with him and Ivy, you and Jamie had gone out here and there, but most of your time was spent together with Ivy, and that’s what told him that you were the girl he needed to hang on to. Jamie wanted to take tonight to explain to Ivy that you two were dating, but he was scared, petrified even, that she would become upset and confused. You kept telling him nothing had to be done yet if he wasn’t ready, but he was, he swore he was.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked Ivy, dinner was long gone and you were playing a game of twenty questions, she wasn’t entirely aware of that but she was having fun nonetheless. “Purple! Like my mommas.” She declared, you gave her a smile, glancing over at Jamie to see how he handled it. Many conversations had happened between you two about the loss of Cora, you never wanted to rush him, and as he only gave Ivy a proud smile, you could tell he was truly ready to start the next chapter of his life again. You liked to think Cora was proud of him, for choosing you to be in their life.

“What’s yours?” Ivy countered back, giving you an inquisitive look, the closer she got to age four, the more like Jamie she seemed, and it always made you chuckle. “Yellow.” You told her, watching as she grinned, Jamie winked at you as you turned sheepish under their gaze. “Because of me?” Ivy gasped. “Yes, because of you.” You giggled, welcoming her hug when she bounced over to you. “Ivy, do you know what it means when people are dating?” Jamie asked his daughter as she stayed seated on your lap, she rested her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands. “No but you said I’m not allowed to do that.” She spoke in a serious tone, sending you into a hysterical fit of laughter, not expecting her to be so blunt. Jamie tried not to but he joined you with a deep laugh, tipping his head back as Ivy grew impatient. “Ok, besides that.” Jamie cleared his throat, “when I say I’m dating someone that means that I really really like them and I want them to be part of our life.” He explained as best he could, you smiled from behind her at his words. Encouraging him to go on.

“Y/N and I are dating.” He spoke officially, you both held your breath as you waited for her reaction, she turned and looked at you, and then back to her dad. “You love her!” Ivy grinned, sending Jamie wide eyed and you into a wide smile as he blushed, “you love my daddy!” Ivy gasped turning to you, now he was the one grinning as you opened and closed your mouth trying to find the words to say. You gave her a nod, “well, it’s a bit more complicated than that when you’re our age, but yes.” You agreed with her, Jamie grabbed your hand from across the table, giving it a squeeze as Ivy climbed off your lap and started dancing around.

This had gone so much better than he had hoped.

When he was tucking her in that night while you were waiting for him on the couch, she said a few words that made him one hundred percent sure that everything was going the way it should, and that Cora even played a hand in this. “Can I have two favorite colors daddy?” Ivy asked, looking up at him sleepily as he pulled the blanket up her body, she was clinging to the stuffy you’d bought her. “Of course, bug.” He assured her, thinking that was that, but as he kissed her forehead she said, “purple and yellow are my favorites.” By the time he pulled his head back, her eyes were shut and her breathing was evening out. “Yeah, I think those are my favorites too.” He whispered.

Taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @hockeyunits

#Jamie Oleksiak fic #Jamie Oleksiak #Jamie Oleksiak imagine #Seattle kraken #nhl imagine

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

Fuck the context and the way you portrayed shinso in your brother fic of him was so hot. Can’t wait for him to become unhinged and not even care what his parents would think/if they’re home and just defile you whenever he wants bc he’s just that desperate

Prelude - gonna call this mess “FaMiLy BoNdInG” and bruh trust me it’s a mess but I tried so enjoy k gbye

Pairing - Aizawa X Reader X Shinsou

Prompt - at the top and combined with these two!

Warnings - psuedo-incest, NSFW, non con, dubcon, all the cons. Step dad Aizawa and step bro Shinsou are a force to be reckoned with. Mentions of DP at the end.

Music - I listened to https://open.spotify.com/track/1xFfbxmfenEpn4WawGWXiA?si=OUFp4ANsSR-6V_H187Eblw while writing even though it has NO relation to the fic spsosfnjsdhgsslfdn dead

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You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking soda and scrolling mindlessly on your phone when your stepbrother had come up behind you, looping his arms over your shoulders as he leaned down.

“Hey girlie, what’re you doing?”

“Nothin’.” You shifted, moving so his mouth was away from your ear, squirming uncomfortably.

There was a beat of silence, before Shinsou stood, his presence looming behind you like a harbinger of evil. “Come up to my room? I’m tired, wanna hold you.” You sighed, hunching your shoulders and curling in upon yourself. You knew it wasn’t a question, wasn’t a request that you could ignore or refuse. He was just giving you the illusion of having a choice. Well, you did have a choice; go with your brother willingly, or get dragged, risk him getting angry if you said you were feeling sick, get into a fight with the man that could pin you to the ground without breaking a sweat.

“Shinsou…. “

“C’mon.” He didn’t wait for you to figure out how to beg for him to leave you be, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet with ease. You went limp, what else could you do?

The purple-haired man reached under your skirt, a modest, knee-length thing, wrenching your panties down with one hand. You squeezed your eyes shut when his hand brushed against your hip, when he eyed the panties clutched in his fist.

“Cute.”

Gross.

Then he was tugging you along, headed towards his room.

You were so tired.

Mind almost shutting down, you stumbled when the audible clanking of the garage door beginning to open could be heard.

Dad was home.

Wide eyed, you caught Shinsou’s equally-surprised gaze, the man in front of you tightening his grip on your arm. Without another word, his pace was quickened. Aizawa wasn’t supposed to get home until midnight, was supposed to be working late at the office.

Shinsou tugged you into his room, slammed the door shut, pushed you onto the bed. He had a sense of urgency; he was stressed, thrown off by the sudden and unexpected arrival of your father. “Gotta be quiet now, don’t want dad to hear us, right?”

You nodded, dazed, exhausted. Nothing had happened yet and you were already retreating inside your mind, resigning yourself to whatever your older brother was going to do today. He had said he wanted to cuddle, but that usually meant lazy sex while he hugged you, kissing your neck and falling asleep after making the both of you cum.

Without any preamble, the man climbed onto the bed, putting a hand on your shoulder to gently guide you to lay back. Then he was scrabbling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bralette and skirt. He kneeled between your legs, pulling your skirt up to mid thigh to give him more room to maneuver.

“Shinsou please don’t, dad’s-“

“Shhhh, just do what I say and you’ll be fine.”

Shinsou spat into his palm, the sound making you cringe as you thumbed at the soft blankets underneath you. He was unbuttoning his pants, shoving at his underwear until he could get his cock free. The man went quicker than usual as he slicked up his length with his spit, very much aware of the presence of someone else in the house.

At this point, Shinsou really didn’t care.

He had been fucking you for so long, pulling you aside for a quickie when your parents ran to the store, taking his time when they went away for a weekend, fucked you on the couch when they went out for date-night. Feeling particularly bold today, he barely thought to pause when your father had gotten home. Right now, he wanted to lay down with his little sister, fuck you until you fell asleep, and then cuddle with your pliant body. Dad home or not, he was determined.

Your skirt was pushed even further up your body, the material bunching at your waist so your stepbrother had unfettered access to your bare pussy. Clenching your eyes shut, you turned your head away as you felt Shinsou pull your hips into his lap so he could rub his cock against your folds. He hissed at the sensation, spitting into his hand again before reaching around his cock to smear his saliva onto your puffy slit, too impatient and hurried to properly prep you.

It was odd to see the purple haired man like this; usually he was very laid-back, slow and gathered in his movements. Right now he was rushing, pushing the tip of his cock slowly into your entrance when usually he would still be making you cry on his fingers. The stretch was immediate, almost burning, and your lungs tightened.

A hand reached up to cover your mouth, Shinsou’s thumb massaging your cheek as he hushed you. You grabbed onto his arm, not to pull him away (it would be useless, he was so much stronger than you), but to ground yourself, able to do nothing but hold onto the man causing you pain.

The sound of dishes clattering down in the kitchen had Shinsou’s hips bucking forward suddenly, filling you up, pressing too far, too soon. He swore lowly, hand tightening around your mouth as you let out a pained noise.

His hips stilled, the hand not at your mouth petting soothingly at your hip in an imitation of comfort. Funny, you thought - you wouldn’t need comfort if your stupid step brother could manage to keep his dick in his pants.

As the seconds passed, both of you aware of Aizawa down in the kitchen, your muscles slowly relaxed. The stretch burned less, felt more manageable. Still, you were entirely unprepared when Shinsou drew his hips back before rutting into you.

You screeched, the sound muffled by his hand but undeniably loud. Shinsou leaned over you, unwittingly pushing himself deeper as he tried to soothe you with his quiet “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

If you were able, you would scream that you weren’t. You weren’t okay, nothing was okay. Everything about this was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. The way his hips were twitching into you, the way he kissed your cheeks and thumbed away your tears. The pleasure that was sparking in your core, the fact that it was your stepbrother getting ready to pound you into the mattress.

He was thrusting smoothly now, cock drilling into you a a steady pace. You were getting wet, the slide easier and less painful, pleasure slowly filtering in. When Shinsou plucked at your clit, you squirmed, hips shamefully moving to meet his own. He started increasing the pace, breathing heavily as the two of you rocked together on the bed. Occasionally his bed creaked, the wood rubbing at the joints and squeaking.

On one hand, you hoped dad didn’t hear. On the other, you wished he would - that he’d come save you from his son.

You got a mockery of your wish.

“Kids?” Aizawa was walking up the stairs, the third step that always creaked whenever someone tread on it announcing his ascent.

“Shit.” Shinsou breathed, pulling out of you, manhandling you quickly. He threw back the covers of his bed, shoved you down, settled behind you. He didn’t have to tell you to be good - the taboo, disgustingly wrong nature of what he had been doing was too embarrassing for you to reveal to your stepfather. Accusing his biological son of assaulting you? Raping you? Would dad even believe you? You didn’t want him to see you like this, you couldn’t.

Dad knocked as Shinsou pulled the covers up, covering your state of undress. You knew your bralette straps were still visible, and Shinsou still had his shirt on. It would probably just look like the two of you had been napping, but then again, it would still seem odd. Whenever your parents were home you stayed as far away from your brother as possible - you weren’t one to just go cuddle with him.

The door creaked open, and your dad peered in. You were so embarrassed, half-naked and utterly humiliated underneath the covers. You didn’t know what to feel or what to do, frozen in fear and indecision.

“Hey dad, need something?” Shinsou rumbled from behind you, voice steady and monotoned.

Light eyes scanned the room, before settling on you and your brother. Aizawa gave you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be in here, before his eyes shifted to the man behind you. “Wanted to let you know I’m home. Mom won’t be back until late, do you two have any specific requests for dinner?”

Shinsou shifted closer to you, so close that you could feel his rapidly beating heart through the warm flesh of his chest.

“Nah, we’re fine with whatever.”

Aizawa nodded, giving you one more confused glance. Maybe he could tell something was up? You felt like you couldn’t breathe. As the dark-haired man turned, obviously moving to shut the door and head back down to the kitchen, Shinsou was pushing his cock into you, his heart trying to beat out of his chest against your back.

Before you could stop yourself, you were whimpering.

“Dad….”

Shinsou froze as Aizawa turned back, stepping further into the room. You were quiet, tears budding at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t make yourself utter another word, completely unsettled at the situation. What were you supposed to do? You wanted him to save you, but you didn’t know how to ask. Your stepfather was studying you, was waiting for you to say something more. His gaze was flickering between you tearful eyes, your bralette straps visible above the blanket, the position you and Shinsou were in. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

All three of you were silent, the moment seeming to stretch on forever.

You were so tired.

Breaking the stillness, Aizawa took another step into the room, brows slowly drawing down as the realization dawned upon him.

“Shinsou.” HIs voice was low, he rolled his son’s name in his mouth quietly, almost hesitantly. “What the fuck is going on.”

Your brother’s cock was still inside you.

“I was tired. (Y/N)’s cuddling with me, she was telling me about a dog she saw-“ Aizawa snorted, arms crossing as he took another step towards the bed. “Nice try. Don’t lie to me. Tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

Shinsou was silent behind you, his heart beating loud and fast against your back.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” His voice was softer as he asked you, throaty still - but softer. The tears clouding your vision finally flooded, streaming down your cheeks as you looked up at him.

“Please… I....” You couldn’t formulate the words, mortification surrounding your body, Shinsou’s hand squeezing bruises into your hip. It was too much. You wished you had never existed, that none of this had happened.

Unable to get an answer out of either of you, Aizawa strode forward, grabbed the covers, ripped them off the bed and dumped them in a heap.

You sobbed.

Both men were silent as you cried fat tears, embarrassed at being revealed, gratification at dad finally discovering the awfulness you had been subjected to these past few months.

Shinsou thrust his hips further into your warmth.

You choked, eyes snapping up to Aizawa. Shinsou was supposed to stop the second the two of were caught. He wasn’t supposed to keep going. Why wasn’t dad saying anything? Telling Shinsou to get off of you, get out of the house? Why wasn’t he calling the police? Why wasn’t he pulling your skirt down, trying to preserve your modesty?

The man was staring at the mess between your legs, Shinsou’s cock sliding in and out of you as you sobbed. Aizawa was breathing a bit heavier, his face, stance, demeanor no longer angry.

Dread filled your bones, settled like hot glue.

“Can you see how wet she is? She’s dripping.” Shinsou prodded, Aizawa frozen in place, mouth dry as he watched. “She’s always so warm inside, feels so nice.“

He was egging Aizawa on, seizing the moment and capturing his dad’s hesitance, manipulating it. You let out a whine as Shinsou’s pace picked up, cock beginning to hammer into your pussy. The purple haired man looped an arm underneath your thigh, hefting it into the air to allow Aizawa a better view.

“Doesn’t she sound so sweet? She tastes just as good, feels even better.” He was breathing heavily now, as he rutted into your warmth. Dropping your thigh, Shinsou reached for your clit, trapping the nub between his fingers and flicking at it. You cried out, your own hips squirming in indecisiveness , unable to choose between puling away or pushing back into the delicious sensation. It didn’t take much more to have you cumming.

Shinsou grunted as your walls squeezed around his cock, giving a few more frantic thrusts before he shot his load deep within your cunt, hips twitching as he worked through his own orgasm

You watched Aizawa sit down on the bed, close to your knees.

“How long?” He sounded strained. Shinsou shrugged, still panting.

Aizawa’s rough hand rested on your knee, his flat eyes closing as he paused. “Get up.”

The command wasn’t directed at you, but at your brother. Somehow, you didn’t think it would end up with your stepdad kicking his son out of the house.

Shinsou seemed to think the same as he pulled out, uncaring to the way you flinched as his cock dragged against your sensitive walls. He was silent as he shuffled to the end of the bed, tucking his dick back into his pants.

Aizawa grabbed your ankle and in one smooth move, dragged you to him. You squeaked at the sudden movement, eyes wide as you watched Aizawa look you up and down. The front of his slacks were tented.

He pulled you into his lap, your back to his chest, turning so the both of you faced Shinsou who still stood at the foot of the bed.

“Does he make you feel good?” The older man’s stubble was scratchy against your cheek. You didn’t know where this was going, felt so lost and bad and sick.

“Sometimes…”

It was impossible to lie. You knew if you did, Shinsou would cut in, tell his father how he made you cum everytime. How most of the time, you were screaming in pleasure before he would even take his pants off.

Looking at the floor, you missed the look between father and son.

“He touch you here?” You gasped as a large hand grasped at your chest through your bralette. Aizawa’s hands were bigger than his son’s, rougher and more confident in their touch.

“Yes.”

“What about-“ tears streamed down your face as the hand slid further, over your tummy, over the fabric of your skit, down to your abused, sensitive cunt. “-Here?”

“Please stop, please.”

Aizawa didn’t answer, let his hand rest over the top of your pussy, feel his son’s cum slowly leaking out. “Shinsou, come here.”

The purple-haired man obeyed, stepping closer, falling to his knees at the edge of the bed when Aizawa motioned for him to do so.

“Clean up your sister.”

You weren’t too surprised. It shouldn’t have been hard to see where Shinsou had learned his nasty little tricks from. Still, it hurt your heart, struggling in your step-dad’s lap as he held you in place.

Shinsou was smiling, leaning forward to shove his face in-between your thighs, chuckling when you yelped as he tongued over your hole. You used your hands to shove at his head, pull at his hair, but he caught them in his grip. They were pulled down by your sides, where Shinsou held them still.

“No, no! Stop! You can’t, no—dad!!” You were sobbing, pleading as Shinsou continued his assault on your cunt, licking out his own cum from your insides. Aizawa was holding your legs, keeping you spread-eagled and open.

“I’m not a good guy (Y/N), neither of us are.” His hardness was rubbing up against your back as you squirmed. “And from now on, you call me daddy.” “No! I won’t, let me go!” You thrashed, putting all your energy into loosing the iron grip holding your legs. Shinsou pulled back, licking his lips as he glanced up at his father.

“She was like this when I first had her. Mouthy little thing, still hasn’t learned proper manners.” He didn’t wait for Aizawa to respond, leaning back forward to continue slurping at your swollen lips.

“That’s alright, she’ll learn… I am a teacher after all.”

You wanted to vomit. You went limp, sobbing raggedly in Aizawa’s arms - completely demoralized and humiliated. There was no use fighting when Shinsou had been hurting you. Now with two fully grown men focused on you? Forget about it.

Aizawa was quiet as Shinsou worked you up to an orgasm, the only sound besides your crying the wet, squishy lapping of Shinsou’s tongue suckling at your pussy. When he switched his focus to your clit, you wheezed, jolting in place as his tongue started laving over the little bud rapidly, quickly throwing you higher and higher and-

You wailed through your second orgasm, almost unable to breathe.

Moments passed before you were able to calm yourself, ugly-crying and begging the two men to please, please leave you alone. Please leave, don’t touch you.

If you weren’t numb from your orgasm, you would feel sick.

“Shinsou, where’s your lube?”

Purple hair bounced as your brother cocked his head, still kneeling between your legs. “She doesn’t need lube, she’s soaking wet.”

“She’s gonna need it if we’re both going to fit.”

Neither man seemed to be able to hear your panicked pleas, too excited about prepping you to take both of them together.

What an awful attempt at family bonding.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere aizawa shouta #creepy aizawa #stepbro #stepbrother #stepfather #step dad #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #noncon tw #yandere shinso x reader #yandere aizawa

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megan-is-mia · 3 years

Note

May I ask for a nsfw scenario with number 6, 29, and 46 from the second prompt with Jade and Trey? Thanks in advance!

(ooo i've been wantin to do this couple!) 6. “You look so beautiful when you cry.” 29. “Oh, you like being choked?” 46. “I want to know what makes you squirm, what sounds you make if I touched you here—” (Yandere! Jade Leech and Trey Clover x Fem! S/o) (WARNING NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD)

(Y/n) believed in true love, for she had seen it with her own two eyes. At Night Raven College there could not have been a more perfect pair than Trey Clover and Jade Leech. Just watching the two made the young woman’s heart jump for joy for them, how lucky they were to have found each other. You couldn’t help but feel good just by being in their proximity.

Why (Y/n) considered herself more fortunate than most that not only did she get to see such a lovely couple but could call both halves of the duo her close friends. She cherished her friendships with the boys so but as of late something had seemed a bit off. When she helped Trey cook treats it seemed like he was making constant excuses for them to touch. When she visited Jade at the Monstro Longue, his words were almost flirtatious in nature.

At first, she’d brushed off these little incidents as nothing, after all, what close friendship wasn’t sprinkled with platonic interactions that bordered on the more romantic in appearance? However, as these little incidents began to accumulate (Y/n) grew worried about the state of her friends’ relationship not only with her but with each other. Finally, it came to a head when she called both men to her room one night to discuss the matter.

“Jade… Trey… you two know I care about you but you need to stop” (Y/n) said with a grave expression. Neither male spoke so she continued her statement. “I know you two probably didn’t mean to do it, but I can’t help but feel like you’ve been flirting with me as late. The sweet words and gentle touches... it all feels too intimate to me” she clarified waiting for one of the boys to speak up and put her fears to rest. “Do you have a problem with being flirted with?” Trey finally said with a curious look in his eye. “What? Well no… I mean I’m not against being flirted with in principle” (Y/n) stammered out bemusedly at this question. “If you aren’t against the flirting then what’s the issue then?” Jade asked tilting his head to the side. The young woman blinked at him, unable to comprehend his question towards her. “Aren’t you upset? I mean... i just revealed your infidelity to each other“ (Y/n) said dumbfounded. “Oh dear one aren’t you sweet to worry about our relationship” Jade said with a coo reaching out to cup the girl’s face. “Darling I knew that Jade was flirting with you, and he knew I was also flirting with you” Trey said with a smile at (Y/n). “But… why? Why would you do that?” the young woman said flinching as her cheek was cupped.

“Why? Well it’s very simple we love you” Trey said with a chuckle. “Love me? But you two are already together! Don’t you love each other?!” (Y/n) protested. “Yes, of course, we love each other but that doesn’t mean we can’t also love you just as much” Jade said sweetly squeezing her cheek, “But I don’t love you two like that, you’re my best friends! Even if you wanted me to I can’t!” (Y/n) said shaking her head rapidly.

“It’s okay dear one, we didn’t expect you to be on board right away” Jade cooed squeezing (Y/n)’s cheek again before suddenly pushing her down on the bed. “In fact i was sorta hoping you’d be a bit resistant to the idea” he adds before climbing onto the bed and straddling her. The young man gazed down at her, his eyes alight with a strange glow that could only spell further distress for (Y/n). “I hope you two aren’t intending to leave me out of the fun” Trey said moving over to sit on the bed beside his boyfriend with a playful pout. (Y/n) looked up at the two men, her eyes starting to fill with tears that were quick to start rolling down her face. “You look so beautiful when you cry” the bespectacled male said almost in a trance, leaning down to lick up the tears before they fell off the girl’s cheeks and soaked the bed.

After the tears began to ebb, Trey switched from licking to kissing. He peppered (Y/n)’s face and neck in light kisses that left her skin feeling all tingly. While he kissed her, Jade began undressing her keeping her pinned to the bed with his body weight as he removed her top and palmed her chest. An impish grin spread across his features as he toyed with her nipples and made her let out a gasp.

“What a cute noise~” Jade cooed continuing to toy with (Y/n)’s nipples before bringing his mouth down to suck on one until it was stiff before switching to the other one sucking it until was also stiff. He continued to lavish her chest with attention while one of Trey’s hands crept down the bed and into (Y/n)’s pants to paw at her clit impatiently. The young woman tried to squirm away from the boy’s fingers with little success. “Where are you going darling?” Trey said playfully continuing to tease her clit before going further and slipping a finger into her cunt. (Y/n)’s back arched off the bed and she let out a moan. He continued probing her pussy, forcing his finger deeper and deeper twisting it around playfully. After a few minutes, he pulled his finger out with a soft pop. “Jade dear, would you mind moving so I can get the rest of our darling’s clothes off?” he cooed sweetly. “Of course” Jade crooned kissing Trey before getting off of (Y/n). “After all, I want to know what makes you squirm” he added these words directed to the young woman as he caressed her cheek and Trey pulled her bottom garments off before settling between her legs. “I wonder what sounds you make if I touched you here—” Trey mused before shoving two fingers into her cunt. Of course (Y/n)’s body reacted violently, her entire body tensing up at the intrusion as a moan slipped from her lips. Jade sat by watching, his cock in his hands as he jerked himself off to the sight before him. Trey was focused on the task before him, stretching the young woman’s cunt out for what would happen next. (Y/n) bit her lip feeling a wave of sensation about to overcome her before her vision went white with bliss. “Oh my darling, you made quite a mess” Trey said with a laugh pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. “I guess there’s no reason to waste any more time” he added sitting up and undressing completely before lining himself up with (Y/n) and thrusting in. “Fuck, you feel so tight” Trey moaned out bottoming out in the young woman. Jade began to undress himself leaning over to kiss his boyfriend and taste their sweetheart on his tongue. Trey gripped (Y/n)’s hips for a better angle and pounded her greedily, his movements calculated to hit her sweet spot without mercy. He continued to make out with Jade for a long moment before pulling away and lifting (Y/n) up into his lap with her legs spread on either side of his hips. “What are you waiting for dear? There’s plenty of room in her for both of us” he said to his boyfriend. Jade took the invitation gladly, scooting up behind (Y/n) and lining his cock up with her already stuffed hole before thrusting in. The young woman’s vision blurred at the sensation, half in pain and half in pleasure. The eel-boy thrust shallowly a few times, burying himself deeper with each movement until he was all the way in. His teeth pressed against the girl’s neck as he made a love-bite. The two young men began thrusting widely in and out hardly concerning themselves with the pleasure of the young woman between them. (Y/n) tried to scream but each attempt was cut off by Trey’s lips pressing against hers roughly. Suddenly her breathing was cut off all together as a hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed. The lack of air did nothing to stop her feeling pleasure and she came with a strangled moan. “Oh, you like being choked?” Jade said with a laugh, loosening his hold before (Y/n) passed out from oxygen-deprivation. He and Trey continued to rocket in and out of her before they eventually came deep inside her cunt with loud groans. The young woman barely registered that they’d come in her with all the thoughts that were already racing in her mind. Both men were resting their heads on her shoulders as they panted heavily. “That… was... amazing” Trey said between gasps. He began kissing across (Y/n)’s throat as they started to descend from the high of sex. After a few minutes he pulled out with a soft pop, Jade following suit a moment after and allowing (Y/n) to lay on the bed as cum began to drip out of her cunt. Trey

disappeared from view briefly before returning with a washcloth he used to wipe (Y/n)’s body clean of cum and sweat. “Well i dont know about you but i quite enjoyed myself” Jade said with a yawn before laying beside (Y/n). “Though i have to admit i’m feeling rather tired now” he added snuggling up to the young woman. “I had a good time as well” Trey said laying on (Y/n)’s other side and snuggling close. “And i’m sure our darling had a good time too” he said kissing the girl’s cheek as he got comfortable. “I cant wait to introduce everyone to our new girlfriend” Trey said cheerifully. “Me neither, life will be even sweeter now that all three of us are together” Jade agreed with a grin. “But that’ll all have to wait until tomorrow” he added after a moment. “Sweet dreams dear one” he said kissing (Y/n) before falling asleep. The young woman stared up at the ceiling sorrowfully, waiting for sleep to take her to a less miserable place… THE END

#Trey Clover #Jade Leech #Yandere Trey Clover #Yandere Jade Leech #TWST #Yandere TWST #Yandere Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland

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ghost-like-pale · 3 years

Text

no need to hide from me

info: philza finds out about your scars. not that he's mad, he's just surprised. 》 they/them 》 irl + platonic 》 1.5k words

warnings: explicit selfharm, blood, hurt/comfort, implied father/child-like bond

a/n: my first piece, i don't know how i feel about it.

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

——♤——

"kgh-"

you felt the pain run through your body as the blood slowly dripped past your forearm onto your thigh. a sharp inhale went through your airpipe into your aching lungs.

"ack-!"

the small razorblade slid over your troubled skin for the fifth time these past 2 minutes, hoping no one would hear your small choked sobs from the echoing bathroom.

after letting the pain simmer down you get welcomed coldly by numbness. it never fails to meet you after a cut.

this meet-up has been nice, enjoyable, even. but the guilt of not being able to be as hyperactive as tommy and tubbo, the embarrassment of not understanding what wilbur was talking about and the shame of accidentally saying something stupid and phil laughing at it gave you a reason to punish yourself.

—

you didn't eat much during dinner, even though it was your favorite meal - kristen even cooked for everyone. that's exactly when phil knew something was wrong.

you excused yourself from the table and walked upstairs to the room you resided in. after the others moved on from the dinner table to the living room phil decided to go after you, telling kristen to heat up a plate of food and join the rest of their friends. kristen understood, and walked to the kitchen to grab a plate. phil quietly yet swiftly made his way upstairs.

—

you heard the stairs being climbed from the other side of the walls, widening your eyes and making you panic. the blade you were holding was stained with a mix of old and fresh blood. the tiny drops of dark-red liquid splashed on your leg once again. in a panic you threw the razor to the corner of the room and wiped the blood of your body hastily. you pulled your sleeves over your hands and hid them from sight, hoping the new cuts wouldn't bleed through the fabric.

"(y/n)?"

phil knocked on the door to your room. you wipe your face entirely, trying to physically get rid of your anxious expression and answered phil's call.

"come in!"

you sounded grossly happy, making you cringe internally. you trapped your hands between your legs while feeling the mattress sinking next to you.

"you okay? you didn't eat much earlier."

phil wasn't stupid; he knew you weren't. he wanted to see if you would confess to him on your own terms.

"oh, yeah. i'm okay, just didn't feel too hungry, heh."

the small laugh you exuded only worsened phil's concerns.

"(y/n), i'm not sure i believe you. you can trust me."

your panic grew by the second, not wanting to worry phil, yet desperately wanting to tell him. you didn't have the words for it and your brain is not going to bother finding them - it was too busy trying not to cry.

"phil, i promise i'm alright. i just wasn't hungry and i'm worn out from the things we did."

phil exhaled through his nose. what the hell was he going to ask you now?

you bit your lip harshly, trying to focus on the pang of hurt coursing through your mouth rather than your head.

"listen, (y/n). i know you better than this. you can tell me what's wrong-"

before he could properly finish his sentence you stood up. you screwed your eyes shut and yelled at him.

"I SAID I'M FINE, PHIL!"

phil was taken aback by the sudden and intense hostility you showed.

"i'm...i-i.."

you slowly came to a realisation as to what happened. your lips sputtered unintelligible words and your eyes spilled out tears. phil quickly came to his senses and stood up as well. his arms wrapped around your upper arms and shoulders, his head resting on top of yours.

"it's okay, (y/n). i'm not mad, i promise."

you didn't respond. you only sobbed louder and pushed your face into his chest, finding safety in his secure embrace. you stood like this for a bit, calming down over time until the sobs from earlier were nothing more than hiccups.

"are you okay to talk about it now?"

phil eventually spoke up. you nod slowly, pulling away from the hug and letting yourself fall onto the bed you sat on a while ago, phil following your lead.

"what's wrong, kid?"

you let out a shaky breath and let go of the sleeve you were holding onto tightly during the conversation. you grabbed the end of your sleeve and tried to pull it up, but to no avail.

you couldn't. you couldn't show him yourself.

you whined softly, trying to think of a solution. phil rested his hand on your thigh as a way of non-verbal support, giving you an idea. you dropped your arm onto phil's hand, him instantly understanding what you meant and grabbing your arm gingerly. he placed it on his lap and carefully peeled off the sleeve.

"oh, (y/n)."

it was a sight to behold; a bloodied arm with messy cuts, a few still dribbling slightly, most of your skin covered in the half-dried crimson fluid.

refusing to look at phil, you stared at the wall on the other side of the room. you could feel his eyes staring daggers at it, your face heating up in shame and vulnerability.

"i'm so sorry, (y/n)."

you felt your sleeve being pulled over your arm again and you were pulled into another embrace. this time the hug felt sympathetic, like it was apologizing to you for everything you've ever been through, saying sorry for the fact you had to do this as a way to live with yourself.

if you had anything left, you could've cried for hours. but your tears ran out a while ago, so you stayed quiet, with the exception of a few whimpers and sighs.

"thank you for telling me."

phil broke the silence again, a small smile appearing on your tear-stained face.

"but- we should really clean up that arm. you don't want that to get infected."

he said with a hint of a chuckle. it was kind of nice hearing him be a little humorous in such a depressing scene.

"yeah, maybe we should."

you responded with the same tone. he grabbed your hand and lead you to the nearest bathroom. he fetched the softest towel he could find and dampened it with lukewarm water. he then turned his attention to you; he dabbed the still open cuts first and cleaning up the freshest blood. then he moved onto the dried blood around it, wiping it carefully, minding the sensitive wounds.

"stay here, i'll get the first-aid kit from the other bathroom."

phil said, before disappearing into the hall outside. you stood on the cold tiles for a few moments, pondering how you even managed to muster the strength to tell anyone. you were glad you did, though.

"i'm back!"

the familiar voice rang through the reverberating room and into your ears, making you turn your head in the door's direction. the smile grew slightly when phil's face entered your vision.

"arm, please."

you did as he asked and handed your arm to him. he took a cream-coloured bandage out of the small bag and gently yet firmly wraps your injured arm.

"thank you, phil."

your smile was persisting while looking at the bandaged arm. phil packed up the first-aid kit and grinned himself.

"you're welcome, kid. now, let's get some clean clothes and a plate of warm food."

—

"PHILZA!"

tommy yelled from the couch he sat on. the rest of the group quickly turned around to greet their friends.

"hi, mate. what are we watching?"

wilbur waved over to you and signaled to come sit next to him. you happily obliged and sat down with a plate in hand. the couch was just big enough to seat 3 people, you, tommy and wilbur occupying said seats. kristen sat on the chair on the left, while tubbo sat on a pillow on the floor with his hand in a bag of crisps.

"no idea, we were just going to choose something."

wilbur answered for him, earning him a smack on the knee from the blonde. phil laughed while lowering himself into a chair on the right side of the couch.

"he asked me, you prick."

"well, you were just too slow."

the two boys bickered back and forth a bit until tubbo spoke up.

"why don't we let (y/n) decide?"

both wilbur and tommy seemed satisfied with that resolution, nodding their heads and verbally agreeing.

"uhm, how about ___."

kristen immediately agreed, so did phil and tubbo. tommy was still a bit bitter about not being the one to choose, but didn't object, the same for wilbur.

"alright, it has been decided!"

—

the movie was quite long, but enjoyable. your dinner was finished and the plate stood on the coffee table, next to an empty glass and a half-eaten bag of crisps.

your head rested on wilbur's shoulder, a fluffy blanket draped over you along with one of his arms. your eyelids were heavy, the light emitting from the tv becoming more distant every second.

a final consious breath escaped your lungs and you finally fell asleep.

the comfort this household has brought you is something you couldn't find anywhere else - you were truly home.

——♤——

thank you for reading, please be nice

masterlist

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 3 years

Text

for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.

Cas isn't a serial texter.

And Dean's a-okay with it.

But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.

>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]

Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.

At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.

It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.

Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.

<<< hey [12:09 am]

<<< you OK? [12:09 am]

The response is immediate.

>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]

And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.

>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]

Dean blinks.

<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]

At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.

>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]

Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.

It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.

<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]

>>> :) [12:14 am]

>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]

And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.

Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)

The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime.

Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.

Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.

>>> I miss you [6:28 am]

>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]

Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.

<<< what [6:32 am]

<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]

Nothing.

<<< cas? [6:33 am]

<<< dude [6:34 am]

<<< cas???? [6:34 am]

Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.

He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.

>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]

>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]

And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.

And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.

"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."

Dean'd swallowed.

"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."

"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."

"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."

And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.

And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."

"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.

"He's running off to Miami."

And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me."

At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.

The third time's after their first date.

(Because, well. It happened.

It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.

And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.

"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."

And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.

"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)

When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.

It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.

>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]

>>> already. [11:43 pm]

Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.

<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]

>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]

<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]

<<< me too [11:44 pm]

<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]

Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.

>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]

And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.

<<< good for you [11:46 pm]

He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.

They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.

<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]

>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]

And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.

As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.

But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.

#spnadventcalendar2020 #destiel #destiel college au #casdean #dean is bi #texting fic #destiel fluff #best friends to lovers #+ roommates :))#deancas au #young dean winchester #young castiel #bluefirecas #rambleoncas #tearsofgrace #userpris #oh writing my writing #i had fun writing this :)#college aus almost feel like my roots at this point

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

The Great Academia Road Trip, Part 3 (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: During a particularly long bus ride to the next stop on their road trip, some of the students in Class 1-A take the time to catch up on some sleep. However when they near their destination they'll need to wake up somehow, and lucky for them, Todoroki can get pretty loud when he's being tickled!

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one! Lee Todoroki has my entire heart. He makes a great alarm clock, too! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,384

Part 1

~~~

“S-Stop it!”

“What’s wrong? Can’t get away?”

“Kaminari!” There was a low chuckle, followed by the sounds of a scuffle. “S-Stohop, please!”

Mina pulled out one of her earbuds to listen more closely, intrigued by whatever was happening on the bus seat in front of hers. Momo sat beside her, having fallen asleep nearly an hour ago. The harder she listened, the more she matched the pleading voice to Todoroki.

“Plehehease, no! People are t-tryihihing to sleep!”

“Eh, sleep is boring,” Kaminari replied, a smile in his voice. “This is way more fun.”

Mina grinned, already guessing what was happening in front of her. Still, she carefully got to her feet so as not to disturb Momo, leaning over the seat in front of hers to witness the scuffle with her eyes as well.

Todoroki was pressed up against his window seat, desperately squirming and pushing at Kaminari’s hands. Meanwhile the blonde had a huge grin on his face, reaching through his friend’s defenses to poke and prod wherever he could, and poor Todoroki was helpless against his giggles and the sparkle in his eyes that told her he was honestly having as much fun as Kami was.

“Aww,” she cooed, drawing both of their attention. “You two are so cute.”

“Hey, Mina,” Kaminari said casually, switching tactics and squeezing the icy-hot hero’s thigh instead. Todoroki jolted and kicked the seat in front of him, grabbing the blonde’s wrist and shoving it away.

“Hey, Denki.” Mina put her chin in her hand and watched the two of them with a smile. “Having fun, Todo?”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, then received a jab to his ribs. “Stohohop it!”

“If you really wanted me to stop, you’d have said your safe word by now.” Kaminari winked, reaching up into his underarm to scribble at the hollow.

Todoroki jolted again, hitting his head against the window with a low groan. “Ow! Kaminari, please, I’m going to wake someone up or hurt myself or something!”

“If you’d hold still and take it, it wouldn’t be a problem~”

“Again – I’ll wake someone up.” Todoroki finally managed to grab both of his wrists to stop him, face turning slightly more serious. “You know how ticklish I am. Half our class is trying to sleep; I don’t want to wake them up and have them mad at me.”

Kaminari pouted. “Oh, fine, if you’re really worried about it I’ll stop.”

Todoroki looked both relieved and disappointed as he let his friend go. “Thank you.”

Mina frowned, noticing the shift in mood and wishing she could do something about it. After a moment, a thought hit her, and she lit up even as she sat back down, put her earbuds back in, and pulled out her phone to text Kaminari her plan.

Two hours later, when the bus was finally nearing their destination, Mina stored her earbuds away and looked around the bus. Most of those who had fallen asleep on the trip were awake now, but there were still a few sleepy faces. Time to put her plan into action.

Momo looked at her curiously as she stood up, tapping Kami on the shoulder to let him know she was ready. He flashed her a smirk and a thumbs-up. Moving quickly, he reached over to Todoroki faster than their friend could react, grabbing his arms and shoving them above his head. Mina immediately grabbed his wrists and held him firmly in place while the blonde plunged his fingers into his exposed ribs.

“GAH!! Whahahahahahat?! Nahahahahahaha!” Todoroki shrieked on instinct, then desperately tried to muffle his laughter as he wiggled and squirmed against both of them. “Stohohohohop! I already tohohohohold you, I’ll wahahahake someone up!”

“Good news!” Mina announced brightly. “We’re almost there! Which means everyone should be waking up anyway!”

“You’ll make a great alarm clock,” Kaminari teased with a wicked grin, pulling back for just a moment to wiggle his fingers in Todoroki’s line of vision, sparks flying between his fingertips.

Todoroki’s eyes went wide, but the excitement on his face was clear even as he shied away from Kami’s reach. “N-No, wait – WAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

At this point several of their classmates had turned to look at them, all of them smiling or smirking. A couple of sleepyheads jolted awake, looking around in confusion.

Kami scribbled his tickle-shocking fingers all over Todoroki’s vulnerable torso, from his hips to his ribs and finally his underarms. Upon reaching this last spot, the half-and-half boy tossed his head back and screeched, legs kicking out automatically, drawing the attention of the people sitting in front of him.

“Mon Dieu, Todoroki, you really are super ticklish,” Aoyama said, popping his sparkling blonde head over the top of his own seat to watch the spectacle unfold. He smiled.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Todoroki arched his back, then instantly fell back against his seat when the action only afforded Kami better access to his weak spot. “IT’S SO BAHAHAHAHAHAD – PLEHEHEHEHEHASE!!”

“Aww, does it tickle, Todo?” Mina teased, gripping his wrists tighter to keep him from pulling his arms down. “But you’re waking everyone up, so you’re serving your purpose beautifully!”

Todoroki didn’t reply. For the first time he seemed to surrender himself to his hysterics, going limp and letting Kaminari use his tickle-shocks to light up his nervous system and make him laugh uncontrollably, only squirming slightly.

“It’s too bad we can’t reach his feet like this,” Mina mused.

“Oh?” Kami inquired at the same time Todoroki suddenly began fighting again with a renewed shriek. “Why?”

“That’s his worst spot.”

“NO!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Todoroki pleaded even as Kami grinned deviously at him and awkwardly climbed into his lap to pin his knees to the seat while he reached down to take one of his shoes off. Thanks to the confined space, the peppermint-colored boy could do nothing but sit there as Kami began scribbling his fingers over his socked sole. “CRAP, NO – WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT!!”

Mina laughed along with him when he threw his head back against the seat and let out a scream of ticklish laughter, wiggling his torso but unable to do much more to relieve his ticklish frustration. Tears sprang to his eyes as he laughed and begged desperately for mercy.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!!”

“Ooh! Good call, Mina!” Kami laughed, too. “This spot really seems to drive him crazy!”

By now everyone on the bus was awake and watching the scene unfold with smiles and smirks on their faces. Some were even cheering Kami on.

Todoroki was barely aware of any of it. All he knew was that his worst spot was being tickled, and he could do absolutely nothing about it, and it was driving him completely insane. Then suddenly his second shoe came off and both of his feet were being tickled at once, and the first mirthful tear escaped him as he screamed with a fresh round of hysterics.

“PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! KAMINARIEHEHEHEHEHE!!” He begged, too weakened by his own ticklishness to even be able to pull his arms away from Mina’s hold. “PLEASE DOHOHOHOHON’T USE YOUR SHOHOHOHOCKS THERE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Oh?~” Kaminari latched onto the plea and sank his teeth into it. “I wasn’t planning to, but now that you mention it…”

“NONONONO – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” For the first time Todoroki’s laughter went completely silent, but the giggles of his classmates made up for the brief pocket of empty air. Everyone was having a great time watching their usually stoic classmate laugh himself silly. Finally he gasped in enough breath to scream only one word: “HOMEWOHOHOHOHOHOHORK!!”

Kaminari stopped instantly, climbing off of his lap. Mina was a bit confused at first, but quickly put together that “homework” must have been a safe word of some kind and released her friend’s arms so he could yank them back down and curl up against the window, still beaming and giggling uncontrollably. Scattered cheers and giggles circled the bus as Kami gently squeezed his shoulder.

“You okay, man?”

“F-Fihihihine…” Todoroki gasped, a little shaky as he let himself relax into the seat. “Now I’m tired, though…”

“Well, you can’t go to sleep now,” Mina teased, ruffling his hair. “We’re here!”

Sure enough, at that exact moment the bus was pulling into the parking lot of the hotel they’d be staying in for the night.

Todoroki groaned. “Dang it.”

Kaminari and Mina laughed.

~~~

Part 4

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #shoto #todoroki #mina #ashido #denki #kaminari #road trip #alarm clock #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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wwilloww · 3 years

Text

restless sleep | myg

PAIRING yoongi x reader

RATING explicit. 18+

GENRE smut. fluff. established relationship. sleeping beauty!au.

WC 4.5k

SUMMARY When one of you is always asleep, spending quality time together becomes easier to do in dreamworld, especially when you’re clear with Yoongi exactly what it is you’ve been fantasizing about.

WARNINGS AND TAGS explicit conversation about somnophilia and consent. consensual somnophilia. fingering. mouth fucking. grinding. dirty talk. unprotected sex within an established relationship. creampie. cum play.

AN Please read the warnings and tags before diving into this piece! If it doesn’t toot your horn, don’t worry! And a little reminder: this blog is a space of sexual exploration into consent and kink in my own life and that this piece is a part of that, although in a different direction than I’ve gone before. With that in mind, I ask that you be respectful of this new exploration. Thanks!

With that out of the way, @joopiterjoon gets all the love and finger hearts from Namjoon today as they helped me beta this on a whim this afternoon. We can thank them for helping me string together this story to where it is now. And of course, sending love to @thatlongspringnight who somehow finds a way to becoming an integral part of my creative process no matter what it is I’m working on.

This fic is part of the Wish Upon a Star Collab. We have a full month of Disney inspired stories, so keep an eye out for them!

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

restless sleep

It’s been so long since you’d been to the ocean. You missed the sea breeze, that familiar and spiteful twang to the air. You missed the ocean, lapping at the tops of your feet as you walk for hours. You missed wandering into the gentle swells of the waves on impulse until the water reached your collarbone. You would only stop your walk into the ocean when you were far enough out that you could hear the breakers crashing behind you. And then you would just stand there — or float, if it were deep enough — and let the rocking rhythm of the ocean moving towards the shore roll through you.

The best part would be that as you fell asleep that night in some hostel bed or in the warm cocoon of a hammock, as sleep began to lap at your consciousness, your body would remember the rocking. The push and pull of water around you. Completely dry, you were surrounded by the water, the careful, pulsating embrace of the sea.

Yoongi promised he would take you.

“Soon, I promise, soon,” he would tell you, gripping your hand and smiling at you after you told him about another dream about the coast. When Yoongi made a promise, it was going to be kept.

But there were things to be done first. After your marriage, life exploded with expectation, with responsibility. Even as you settled into the gentle sway of life in your new home, there were obligations that kept you tied here.

So, in dreams, you chased the ocean. Hunted down the salted air, the sand between your toes, and the feeling of being wrapped up in something so much larger than you.

“What if I told you I wanted you to be able to do… anything to me.”

Yoongi lowers the book he’s been reading, looking up at you over the thick spine. You stand at the foot of the bed, wearing one of your softest, largest shirts. You often wore something like this to bed, only to shuck it off over your head the moment Yoongi’s hands came to rest on your waist.

His brow presses for a moment, mouth opening in that cute little gape.

“What — You don’t mean anything, do you?”

You laugh and plop onto the bed, crawling towards him. Why does it have to be so goddamn big? You think, eager to be in his lap.

Despite being a deep sleeper, you were also a restless sleeper and the reason why Yoongi had invested in such a large fucking bed.

A large fucking bed, he chuckled to himself.

Not only were you wild in bed, you were wild in bed, often switching positions at least six or seven times during the night. It was a frequent occurrence to find you half slumped off the end of the mattress, ass in the air, as if you attempted, failed, and collapsed in the middle of trying to climb into bed. Yoongi often woke to find you starfished across the blankets, a leg thrown across his abdomen and three fingers shoved into his mouth. If he wasn’t such a deep sleeper himself, if he wasn’t so fucking in love with you, he might be annoyed by it. So he just bought a bigger bed and made sure to thoroughly wear you out before you fell asleep. You were happy to oblige with his exercise suggestions, especially when they involved rope, roleplay, or pushing the boundaries of your desire for each other. With Yoongi, it was always safe to explore.

Finally settled in his lap, you take the book out of his hands and toss it towards the nightstand. You reach out for the thick lock of hair that has fallen into his eyes and brush it back, smoothing out the press of his forehead. He softens beneath your touch.

“When I say anything — I mean anything.” Your lips purse for a second, thinking about how to say the next thing. “There’s something that thrills me about the idea that I’m yours, entirely. That I’m here, for you, for every single one of your needs and wants and—” you smirk on the last word, “ — desires.”

“Surely you can’t mean anything.”

“Consider this my blanket consent statement.”

“So if I insisted on cooking dinner every night of the week? You would just let me?”

You frown. “I’ve just offered you a blanket consent statement and your first instinct is to take on more of the household duties?” He chuckles.

“Well, then. That and…” Yoongi shifts you in his lap and you gasp. He’s still wearing his jeans, but you can feel the press of his hard cock through the fabric against your bare pussy. “What if during those dinners, I asked you to crawl under the table, onto your knees. Take my cock out of my pants and suck me dry.”

“I’d happily oblige you,” you say, your voice wavering a little as you press your clit against the rough fabric, seeking any kind of friction to ease the quickly rising ache in your cunt.

“If we were out swimming in the lake and I wanted you there and then.”

“Then you’d have me, there and then.”

His voice drops, becoming quieter, darker, as his hands dip to your waist, underneath the shirt. “If I wanted to tie you up, spread wide and willing in the front room for everyone to see, and fuck orgasms out of you until you couldn’t cum anymore.”

“I know,” you say, brushing your lips against his. “that you’re actively trying to dissuade me of my desire, but instead you’re only convincing me that this was absolutely the right thing to bring up. See?” You take his hand and, lifting the fabric of your shirt, bring it beneath. You guide his hand to the apex of your legs to where wetness has gathered and is now dripping.

“You’re—”

“Not wearing anything beneath this. Do you see how willing I am to be anything for you, my love? To be fucked by you? Used by you?” You let your lips trace the angle of his jaw towards his ear. “To be your pretty little sex toy?”

His breath hitches in his throat.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll drop it. I won’t bring it up again,” you whisper.

“That’s not it. Not it, not one bit.”

His eyes glimmer with mischief.

“Then where is your hesitation?”

“Just contemplating when and where to begin.”

“What would you say if I told you I wanted you to fuck me while I was sleeping?”

In a moment, Yoongi has flipped you so that you’re beneath him now. Your breath rushes out of you as your back lands on the mattress. He crawls up your torso, an animalistic fire glinting in his eyes. He takes the hem of your shirt between his teeth, guiding it up your chest until your breasts are exposed to him.

“I’d say that sounds like an excellent idea.” He continues to move up ever so slowly until he’s face to face with you. In one swift movement, you feel his clothed erection press up against your cunt and you gasp. “Tell me more. Exactly how do you imagine me fucking you?”

“Good—” You gasp as he presses his hips to yours, your hand automatically reaching for his arm for grounding as pleasure shoots through you. “I imagine you fucking me good.”

Yoongi chuckles.

“Don’t I always?”

“Y-yes.”

“I need you to be more specific. When can I fuck you?”

“Anytime,” you say. “You can fuck me whenever. Whenever you want.”

His nose traces up your neck until his teeth latch onto your earlobe.

“You sure?”

“Y-yes.”

“And how can I fuck you?”

“Literally—” Your hands wrap around his neck, pressing him to you as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin on your neck. “--however you’d like. I don’t think you—” You gasp as his hand drifts down to your center, two fingers sliding through your folds. But you grit your teeth and keep going. “--you understand what a blanket consent statement entails.”

He pulls back just enough for you to see the determination in his eyes.

“Oh, I do, my love. I just want to hear from you exactly how you imagine this little fantasy playing out.” As he slips a finger inside you, you bite down on your lip. “So tell me. Tell me about this fantasy of yours.”

You struggle to keep your breath under control as he begins pushing his fingers deep into you. He is still wearing his rings — just the way you liked it — and the shocking contrast of the warmth of his body and the cool metal of the jewelry slipping inside you always had you gasping.

“I want you—” You squeeze your eyes shut as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. “I want you to fuck me in whatever way comes to mind.” Another press, another gasp. “Want you to take what you need. Whatever thought crosses your mind—” He slides a third finger into you. Begins pumping in and out as he watches your face and drinks in every flicker of pleasure. “Wanna be your fuck toy.”

“And what else do you want?”

“Wanna wake up with your cum inside me.”

Sleep feels like a fucking boulder, resting on Yoongi’s chest. Crawling out from underneath it is painful. Difficult, even. If he wakes in the middle of the night, it’s with squinting eyes and a bit of an ache in his limbs.

But tonight when he wakes, his chest heaves, his breath coming quickly. He blinks as the wisps of his dream seem to linger around his mind, both intangible and utterly drowning:

Your fingers, wrapped around his throat, pressing so lightly. You smiled down onto him, that smile he couldn’t erase from his mind’s eye. Was it the pressure on his artery or the delight in your gaze that made his head dizzy?

He sucks in a deep breath, feeling his cock twitch against his stomach.

Fuck.

A light snore echoes from the other side of the bed.

You’re stretched out on the pillow next to him. No matter where he slept on your extra large bed, you always seemed to gravitate towards his presence. Tonight, your hand is reached out towards him, fingers wrapped lightly around his bicep.

Your face half pressed into the pillow, your cheek rounded and reflecting the lightest stream of moonlight.

Your lips, pressed so sweetly together, he could imagine himself slipping inside, feeling the warmth of your tongue lapping over him, the divine heat of your mouth sucking him dry—

His eyes shoot open.

The last time you two had tried this — fulfilling your little fantasy — you had been so excited that you woke up as soon as his dick touched you. It had ended in all of your sheets stripped from the bed and your head and one arm draped off the end of the mattress as you both panted like you’d just run a marathon without any training. It was good. Sex with you was always good. But it hadn’t been what you wanted.

Looking over you now, you’re dead asleep. With the ghost of a smirk playing against his lips, he pulls himself up to sitting and comes to kneel by your head.

You look so serene while sleeping, he almost doesn’t want to disturb you. But as your lips part and you take a long, deep breath, his dick twitches against his stomach and he realizes: He wants this just as much as you do.

Wrapping his ring-clad fingers around the base of his cock, he gave himself a slow stroke up and down the length, stroking from half hard to a little more than half hard. Carefully, he presses the tip to your lips. They part without him pushing.

Your tongue flicks out, licking up the bead of precum that glimmers at the tip. You hum sleepily in delight. While you were a restless and responsive sleeper, you were also a notoriously deep sleeper. Yoongi pushes the head of his cock into your mouth, your jaw widening, your tongue flattening instinctively at the intrusion.

You purse your lips and suckle softly at the tip of his cock and Yoongi can't help the hiss that leaves his mouth.

"Even asleep," he whispers, "You're such a good little pet for me." He reaches for you, smoothing the hair out of your eyes and coming to grip your head tenderly.

Ever so gently, he presses further into you, feeling the warm and wet heat of your mouth envelop him. He doesn't go too far though. He's not interested in gagging you awake with his cock. He'd much rather watch your eyes flutter open, mid orgasm. Fighting the urge to throat-fuck you - because that is always the urge with you - he strokes in and out of your warm and waiting mouth with deliberation, using his grip on your head to maneuver you to his whim. With each pull, his cock gets a little bit harder.

When he's fully hard, he slips out of your mouth with a slight pop.

In your sleep, your brow furrows and you sleepily reach out for him, fingers tracing over the now-unoccupied pillow. If a sleeping person could look disgruntled, you're the perfect image of it.

"Don't worry, baby," he murmurs. "I'll give you exactly what you want."

Yoongi moves the thin sheet aside and you mumble a little as the cool air of the room sweeps over your skin, raising goosebumps to the surface. Beneath it, you're the image of perfection. Every curve, every roll, every little mark and bump and detail you might have found issue with radiates with the mark of perfection: the mark of you. Tonight, your rambunctious sonambulations have brought you into a strange but oddly convenient position. Belly down, face half pressed into the pillow, knee pulled up to your side. The position adds a slight curve to your lower back and accentuates the round hill of your ass.

"Perfect," Yoongi whispers, pressing a hand to your lower back before letting his fingers spread wide, letting his hand cup the rounded swell of your ass, watching the way your flesh moulds to his touch.

Hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he glides the head of it through your sopping folds. A small sound of satisfaction slips from you as he presses against your clit, and you adjust in your sleep, pushing your ass up even further for him, already pushing towards the pleasure building in your lower abdomen. With a bit more bravado, Yoongi pushes more of his length through your lips, gathering the moisture there to coat himself thoroughly.

There’s a part of him that just wants to go like this, rutting slowly against your ass until he cums, spilling himself into the small of your back. But you had been specific in what you wanted — and, after all, who was he to deny you?

He notches the head of his cock against your entrance and after a deep breath, begins to push inside. A shaky breath racks through him as the tight walls of your cunt wrap around him, drawing him in, drawing him closer. He slides a hand up your spine, tracing your body as he continues to push inside you, working his cock into you inch by inch.

Finally seated fully within you, he lets out a quick breath, a laugh almost. You, wrapped around him, is as incredible as ever. Warm. Tight. Wet.

Slowly, he begins to move, pulling in and out, watching the way his cock emerges from your cunt coated in your arousal, watching the way your ass jiggles just enough when he slides in all the way. Your body accepts him, tightens around him, sparks him with pleasure. Your breath stutters as he sets a pace.

“Mm,” you murmur. “Yoongi.”

He pauses for a moment, gaging whether you are awake or not. But your eyes stay shut and your limbs stay leaden.

Are you dreaming of him? he wonders. With his cock buried inside you, will you notice the warmth that spreads through your abdomen? Are you dreaming about him fucking you, taking his pleasure — or are you somewhere else entirely, your body responding in tandem to his actions?

For him, the answers to the same questions cut like clear and cold water through his mind. Pleasure, rearing her head in his consciousness.

He wants to touch you.

He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of contact, hand drifting through the sheets around you in search of him, coming up empty. But his touch isn’t quickly lost — his hands grip your hips, turning you gently and slowly until you’re laid out for him on your back. You smack your lips sleepy, a sloppy hand coming to brush the hair in your face. When he crawls over you, he settles his weight just enough on top of you that his presence drifts down through layers of dream, layers of sleep and into your sense of presence.

He fits right where he’s supposed to. On top of you, surrounding you, within you. He was there in your dreams too, sitting beside you in some kind of strange and foreign garden, speaking softly and in words you know but don’t understand. You’re drawn up through the dream, greens and pinks shifting into the deep purple of the room, the dark red of the pleasure burning low and hot in your abdomen. Dream, mid-sleep, waking: through it all there is one constant.

Yoongi.

Your eyes flutter open, splitting from the warmth of your mind to the blanketing darkness of the bedroom. He watches.

“Sh, baby,” he murmurs, brushing the hair off of your face. “Relax. You can go back to sleep.”

“Closer,” you mumble, the word half spoken. Your arm wrapping weakly around his back.

He chuckles, pressing his cock against your belly once more, grinding into you with the lightest of pressure. He’s hard. Painfully hard.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he whispers in your ear. “Fill you up with my cum.”

You hum, fingers slowly spreading down his arm. “Good boy.”

He’s not sure if it’s supposed to be deriding or complimentary or what, because a yawn is already spreading across your face, eyes fluttering closed shut again. Whatever you meant, it comes out sweet. Contented.

He lets his hands run over you, tracing the dip of your waist up towards your chest, hands skirting the swell of your breasts before taking them beneath his palm, kneading them softly and slowly. You sigh into his touch. This, getting to look at you, laid out beneath him, sleepy and still — it’s something else entirely. It is the act alone, an indulgence, a new way of looking at you. Getting to take you in completely and without boundary.

For the second time of the night — or early morning — Yoongi grips his cock and begins to ease slowly inside you. He grips your hip for leverage as he pushes inside, maneuvering your body to his will. Your walls part willingly for him and he slips easily within you. Laid attop you, it feels as if he is notched against you, within you, like a puzzle piece. There’s no way he could go any deeper, reach any further into you. When he begins to move, hips pumping at a dangerously slow pace he chokes a little at the pleasure of it all.

You’re entirely still beneath him as he fucks into you — and quiet too, beside a couple of hums and sighs that slip from your lips when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

Sleep and wake are entirely blurred at this point. You hang suspended between the boundless embrace of dream and the guiding touch of the physical world. It feels like the sea, that rocking pleasure that rolls through you, tide taking you where it will. The pleasure, though partially in the movement of him against you, is in the letting go. The release as the current carries you to an unnamable location.

Body pressed against yours, his hips rocking in and out of you at an instinctual pace. His breath begins to build in his throat, a quick pant.

“Fuck,” he grunts as the walls of your cunt pulse around him. He holds his voice back, and the word barely brushes against you.

You stay silent — somewhere between sleep and presence — and the worry that he’ll wake you has entirely slipped from his mind. Beneath him, you are you, vessel of his love, his affection, as well as the means of the pleasure that you draw from him over and over and over again. The combination swirls dangerously in his mind, love, lust, animalistic desire combining in a heady mix until he’s not sure which way is up. All there is is you, your body, the pleasure of it all.

Your eyes don’t open again as he fucks you. He lets his desire set the pace — agonizingly slow in one moment — then pounding into you, chasing the reeling sensation in his gut in another. Is this what it is to let himself go too? To release himself to the limits of his own want?

“Do you feel me?” he whispers softly, quiet enough that he knows you won’t hear it — at least not in a waking sense — as he continues to rock against you, his cock reaching deeper and deeper into your tight warmth. He imagines that his words, that the deep gravel of his voice, will drift down through the layers of sleep and into your mind nonetheless. And they do, settling into you with a warm thrill. You reach for him, want him closer, want him deeper, want him to sink into every cell of you. Your hand smooths against his back, dropping lower to the small of his back.

“Can you feel me inside you, filling you, taking you—” The words are more of a grunt now, him forcing the sounds over his tongue, holding back the fire that burns in his abdomen just enough to linger on the edge of the drop. “Do you feel how good you feel around me? Do you know what you do to me—What you make me into?”

His breath comes in pants, the sharpness flickering across your skin like the flame of a candle. He continues to grind his cock into you, pressing his body as tightly to yours as he can.

“Do you know how good you are for me? Letting me use you like this? Letting me fuck you and fill you up?”

He grunts as your cunt clenches around him. Each thrust pushes you deeper into the mattress, his hips now ramming into you with power and desire.

“Fuck—” he hisses. “If only you knew—”

Your hips press into his changing the angle just enough that your cunt clenches even tighter around him. Your eyes flutter open, sleepily locking on his in the darkness of the room. His gaze burns against yours, a desire set free within his expression that you haven’t seen before. Through the haze of sleep you hear it:

“Come for me. Come around my cock. Come while I fill you up.”

You gasp as your orgasm rushes through you. Back arched, mouth pressed into a perfect o, sleep-ridden limbs wrapping around Yoongi, pulling him impossibly close.

He grunts as his pace quickens, pounding into you, stuttering as he reaches the final edge. His head falls against your shoulder, hips still rocking against yours as he bites and nips at your neck. Finally, he presses his hips into yours, stilling with a groan as he spills within you, cock twitching and spurting.

Your combined breaths shudder against one another as you slip down from the heights of your orgasm.

When he pulls himself from you, you whine, again, reaching for him. He watches for a moment as his cum begins to seep from your still clenching cunt, mouth watering at the sight. You begin to squirm a bit, still distressed from the loss of contact.

“Sh,” Yoongi murmurs, settling between your legs. “Sleep now.”

Your fingers trail down your stomach, coming to wake enough to feel the soft hush of bliss that radiates through your body and the stickiness that is coming to spill onto your thighs.

“Leave it inside,” he says, his hand coming down on top of yours to still your actions. “I want to see it drip from you.”

You hum in understanding as he lays his head down on your thigh, watching as his cum begins to spill out of you. His cock twitches at the sight. You, filled and marked by him. The thought quickens his breath, stirs the once-satiated ache once again. He chuckles at the thought. Filling you again and again until he’s entirely spent.

He watches the flow of the white liquid ease out of your spent cunt.

“Squeeze for me,” he whispers, and you oblige him, your instinct to please strong even when half-conscious. As you clench and even more cum leaks from your cunt. It slows, but only for a moment before he’s gently pushing two fingers inside you again, to see how much will spill from you. Then, he presses his mouth to your lips, licking a broad stripe up, collecting the taste of you and him mingling on his tongue before swallowing, his adam’s apple bobbing. He looks up at you, your chest rising slowly and steadily as you drift towards sleep. He lowers his head. Again, and again he licks at your cunt, until any trace of his own cum has disappeared.

If it could, your cunt would be gleaming with how thoroughly he’s cleaned you up. As he smiles at his handiwork, he realizes he’s entirely hard again.

A couple minutes of rest, he thinks. Then, he’ll fill you up again, leaving you to find another load of his cum dripping from your thighs as you wake, just as you had begged him to.

Sleep is already sneaking up on you, the tendrils of dream and of darkness seeping like salt water into your mind as you settle into the comfort of Yoongi’s body wrapped around yours, holding you safe and tight. You grumble happily as he pulls your body tight to his, so that you are both laid on your sides, your ass notched perfectly against his cock.

With stillness, you fall back into the dream of the garden. As warmth spreads through your body, the ground fills slowly and steadily with water, consuming everything in its wake. Together with Yoongi, his body pressed to your back, you watch with a calm and steady heart as the world around you turns into an ocean.

For once, you don’t stir once until morning, until the sky warms to a deep purple, streaked with the low burn of dawn.

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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mellowswriting · 4 years

Text

Helping Hand

pairing || Din Djarin x fem!Reader

summary || The clasps on bras should not be so fucking difficult. It’s a good thing Mando doesn’t mind lending you a helping hand.

word count || 4,873

warnings || SMUT! p in v sex, kinda rough tbh, desperate Mando, cockwarming, a singular spank, love confessions bc I am soft for this man

a/n || this was uh...something! I firmly believe that Mandalorians waste zero time once they find their person. Once they have them, they have them. No such thing as rushing to a Mandalorian, especially our TinCanMan. also, this gif destroys me

Main Masterlist | Join the taglist!

The second you saw the bra as you perused the marketplace, your face lit up. The fabric was rich in color and ridiculously soft and you knew the second you had your hands on it that you were buying it. It wasn’t too expensive, a few credits more than what you’d usually be willing to pay for clothes, but hey, you deserved to splurge every now and then. You practically bounced with excitement as you made your way back to the Crest where Mando and the little green kiddo you adored waited for your return. It was nice to get some time to yourself, time where you didn’t have to chase after a rambunctious kid or have to squeeze past Mando’s huge frame in the small spaces of the Crest, but what could you say?

You missed your boys.

The ramp lowered as you drew closer and you smiled. Mando must have seen you approaching. The sight of him standing in the cockpit with the sleeping child cradled in his arm made your chest bloom with happiness. You paused on your way to set your bag on your bunk, distracted by the uncomfortable looking angle he held his arm at, and let out a quiet laugh. Mando’s silent tendencies left you to observe the way he held himself to discern how he was feeling, and after months of living with him, you could gauge him easily by the tilt of his helmet, the way he held his shoulders. You may not be fluent in Mando’a, but you were fluent in your Mandalorian.

“He wakes up the second you lay him down, huh?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face. The sharp way he looked to you only confirmed your suspicion and you bit your lip to hold back another chuckle. “Here, let me.”

The child didn’t even stir when you fluidly slipped him from Mando’s arms and slowly settled him into the metallic cradle he slept in. Mando sighed loudly behind you, the sound roughed slightly by the modulator. “How are you so good at that?”

“It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” You turned and almost knocked back into the cradle at the proximity of the beskar-clad warrior, a mere few inches between your chests. Heat flared across your face. “It’s just, uh… just lotsa practice.”

Mando hummed quietly and you instinctively looked to his shoulders and his hands, trying to gauge his mood. They were relaxed, the tension he always carried about him eased for the moment. Content, if you had to guess. It made you smile up at him, brighter than any sun in the galaxy. There weren't many times you saw him without that ready-to-action tension that plagued his surely sore muscles - almost always when the three of you were in the Crest, safe together as you hurtled through space. He turned just as quickly as he had approached you, stepping out of your space to set the coordinates to Nevarro, and you felt like you could finally exhale.

Bag in hand, you practically stumbled into your bunk and pulled out the pretty bra you were so excited to put on - inky black, accentuated with intricately designed lace and a harness-like back. You pulled off your clothes quickly, stripping down entirely bare to slip into a soft pair of sleeping shorts. It would take a while to get back to Nevarro; you might as well be comfortable for it. The process of undressing while the Crest drew away from solid ground used to have you half naked and on the ground from the jostling, but thankfully you had grown proficient at balancing yourself through the rough takeoffs.

A quiet sigh escaped you at the brush of the luxurious cloth against your bare skin, deft fingers latching the clasps at your back. It was a welcome change to the usual bras you wore. The straps were a bit too loose, allowing the cups to droop slightly from your breasts, and you fumbled to tighten them. It was just out of your grasp, your fingers grappling uselessly for the elusive adjuster as you huffed in annoyance.

“Need a hand?” Mando’s voice behind you made you startle almost comically and whirl around, one hand pressed against your chest where your heart was battering against your ribs. How in the hell did he always manage to move so silently? Heat bloomed up your neck and across your face unbiddenly. Sure, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in some state of undress - living in such close quarters and the fact that Mando apparently never learned how to knock had him walking in on you often. But there was no denying the difference in you standing before him dressed practically in lingerie.

“Uh, y-yeah, if you could?” You stuttered, internally groaning at your sudden inability to speak. The thick tension of the air could have choked you as you stared Mando down awkwardly until he twirled his finger, silently commanding you to turn around, and you could just die. “You just have to slide the, uh, adjuster up towards my shoulder.”

Mando said nothing and before you could move your hair out of his way, one gloved hand gathered it to settle over your shoulder and you had to tamp down on the shiver that tried to wriggle up your spine. He fiddled with the straps silently, leaving you to wrangle with your bordering on desperate need to climb the giant man behind you like a tree and lose yourself in the pleasures you could bring each other.

You weren’t blind, nor were you stupid. Far from it, actually. Reading people was a gift you had possessed from a young age - one’s intent could easily be sussed by the specific light in their eyes, the slightest change in their tone, the barely-there shift in their body language. Mando may not speak often, you may not be able to watch for the arch of an eyebrow or the quirk of a lip, but you could still read him like a book.

The fear of complication warred with your need. The child was a beacon of light in your life when you thought there could never be anything but swallowing darkness. He was a reminder of the little things that made everything else worth it - every coo, every small smile as he slept, every time he came running up to you or Mando on his little legs. Even when you were having to explain over and over again that no, he couldn’t eat the buttons off of the comlink, he brought you more joy than you could imagine.

It didn’t help that every day spent flying through hyperspace left you growing closer to the Mandalorian. Even when there was nothing but silence between you, it was comfortable, companionable. The final straw? Mando slept in your presence. The first time it happened had been entirely accidental. He was exhausted after a strenuous bounty, one that ran far longer than they fought for, and the second the coordinates had been set, Mando collapsed into the pilot’s seat and promptly passed out. Knowing that he was comfortable enough to fall asleep without second thought, that he trusted you enough to be vulnerable like that around you...you never felt more like you belonged.

And Mando? When he woke several hours later, feeling far more well-rested than usual, he saw you curled up in the seat next to him with the child cradled in your lap as the blur of hyperspace reflected in your eyes. You had smiled at him, sleepy but bright nonetheless, and he had never been more grateful for the helmet that hid his face. You were too smart, too observant - you would be able to read the love on his face plain as day.

That little green womp rat and his beskar covered father saved you when you thought there was nothing left. The idea of losing that made you nauseous. The idea of how complete your little family would feel if you gave in made you tempted.

It was complicated.

A modulated grunt of frustration came from the man behind you as he couldn’t get a solid hold on that damn adjuster and you bit back a laugh. A Mandalorian, a warrior - bested by some plastic and fabric. Something fell to the ground, landed on the metal floor with two quiet thwaps, and before you could glance down to see what it was, warm bare fingers slid between the strap and your skin. This time there’s no stopping the almost violent shiver that racked your body, paired with an embarrassingly sharp exhale, and Maker your resolve was crumbling to pieces.

“Tell me when.” Mando rumbled once his nimble fingers finally wrapped around the plastic, his modulator vibrating right in your ear in the most delicious way. The strap tightened slowly as his fingers slid up, the cup of the bra finally flush against your skin, and your voice was hoarse when you whispered ‘when’.

Instead of simply reaching for the other strap, his warm palm made a lazy path across your skin, pausing for a breath between your shoulder blades before slipping under the thin fabric. He repeats the movement, tightening the strap until you clear your throat and manage to say in a stronger tone, “T-there is fine.”

Mando hummed, his fingertips gliding over the soft skin of your shoulder and holy hell, his chest was practically pressed to your back and there was no way he wasn’t being a giant tease. “Just fine?”

“Perfect,” You corrected, your voice breathy, eyes threatening to flutter shut as that hand trailed over your shoulder to trace along the line of the cup of your bra. Goosebumps followed Mando’s touch, raised as your body’s desperate testament to the need that had vibrated through you. You just barely caught a glimpse of those tanned hands, hands you had seen a few times as he took care of the more delicate aspects of cleaning of his weapons, and you whispered, “You’re p-perfect.”

Mando gripped your hip suddenly, your soft flesh soft a beautiful contrast to his calloused hands, and it was the dip of his fingertips underneath the hem of your shorts that made you lean back into him fully, your head tilted back against his shoulder. A rumbled moan vibrated from his chest and into your back, felt all the way through his chestplate, as you “You want this, sweet girl?”

You nodded quickly. “H-how? How can we…”

“Leave it to me,” Mando murmured, preoccupied with the heat of your bare skin under his hands as he finally broke, finally explored the body of the woman he had fallen in love with in the months since his clan had expanded to three. “Just...tell me you want this. Please.”

Mando’s voice was rough and desperate even through the modulator and you nodded without a second thought. You knew you were in for it just from the way he pushed you further into your bunk to let the door slide shut behind him. No fanfare, no fuss. Mando was certain. He was going for what he wanted, and it lit a fire in you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart racing as Mando methodically unclasped his armor, his visor trained on you with each piece that came off - and it hit you. This was actually happening.

Finally.

You grinned up at the t-shaped visor of his helmet and pulled him closer by the hem of his duraweave pants, his grunt of approval stoking the flames of your need. He pulled his shirt off fluidly and your hands froze where they were trying to undo his pants as you admired the sight of so much bare skin.

“So handsome,” You whispered before kissing just below his navel, smiling into his skin at the way his hand buried in your hair. Mando hummed under your gentle touch, under the trail of your tongue against his skin. It had been so long, too long since he had any form of gentle touch, you knew that. Touch starved, that was the term.

You would fix that.

You trailed your hand over his ribs, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake when your nails scratched him lightly. Finally having your hands on him had you almost giddy, your heart flying in your chest as you slowly kissed down his stomach to the tent in his pants, nerves and need warring in your belly. You wanted to learn every piece of your Mandalorian - his scars and their stories, where to kiss when you wanted to hear those intoxicating groans, his favorite places for you to bite and dig your nails into. You wanted to break him in the best possible way, destroy that headstrong restraint and discipline so he could destroy you in return.

All it took was a teasing press of your tongue against the outline of his cock to make him snatch you up off of the bed with a firm hand at your jaw and you couldn’t help but smile. His helmet tilted slightly as he took you in, grinning at him like the cat that got the canary, eyes sparkling with excitement, and he gripped your shorts with his other hand hard enough to pop the hem.

“Off.” Mando rumbled and you immediately shimmied out of them as quickly as you could with his hand still holding your face firmly. The second the fabric no longer hindered his access, he ran his hand over your ass, greedy fingers digging into the firm flesh of one cheek. “Such a good listener. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

You pressed closer as you nodded, desperate to feel his body against yours, and your eyes fell closed at the warmth of the skin to skin contact of your chest against his. As much as you loved the bra you wore, you wanted to feel nothing between you. It was easy to slip off and Mando’s hand instantly left your jaw to trace along your breast. It amazed you how gentle he could be; those big hands capable of incapacitating, capable of killing, gently palming your skin and tweaking your nipple. A breathy chuckle met your ears and only then did you realize you were arching up into his touch.

“I won’t be gentle.” Mando warned.

You grinned, heat shuddering down your spine at the roughness of his tone. “Who says I want you to be?”

You were on your back before you could even blink, the impact against the bed pulling a gasp from you. Mando made an image painted by the gods: stood over you, chest heaving with each harsh breath, cock straining proudly against his pants. That was the last thing you saw before his hand slapped against the light control on the wall and the entire bunk plunged into darkness.

A hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you against a pair of firm thighs, forcing out a yelp that morphed into a low whine when your legs were spread wide. Without your vision to guide you, you had to rely on your hearing, your sense of touch, and the low clank of metal on metal and rustling of fabric had you confused until his warm, entirely naked body slid over yours and you heard the first tones of Mando’s voice - unmodulated, raw and low in your ear.

“You need me, huh? You need this?” Mando growled, sliding down to grind his cock against you, and he grinned impishly at the desperation of your whimper, at the way you angled your hips to try to slide him inside of you. “Let me take what I want and I’ll give you what you need.”

You could have cried out when he pulled back, could have begged him to stay and fuck you already, but the feeling of his lips latching onto your neck made your voice melt into unintelligible groans. You buried your hands in his hair, memorizing the soft way the curls fell through your fingers. The combination of his teeth and tongue were sure to leave a mark, one you would wear with pride for anyone to see. It was the first of many lovebites he left on your skin, trailed down your neck and over your chest and delivered between significantly gentler bites and licks to your breasts. Your hips moved entirely of their own volition, legs wrapped around his waist to rub against his stomach.

Mando’s hands found your hips and pressed them down, pressing you flush to the bed hard enough that you knew you would have bruises, ones you would relish as long as they lasted. You had never felt more desperate to be touched, tension rocketing tighter and tighter in your core.

“So needy, mesh’la.” Mando rumbled as he shoved you further up the bed. He delivered a sharp bite to your thigh and you jumped, a laugh bubbling up from your chest at the suddenness and the way he eased the mark with his tongue. You carded your fingers through his hair again and his chest rumbled, almost as if he were purring. Just as you were about to comment on it, tell him how cute it was that he reacted so beautifully to your touch, his tongue slid through your wet heat.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, the grip you had in his curls tightening harshly as you tried to roll your hips to grind against his face, but he pinned your hips with sure hands. Not to be hindered, you pressed your heels into his back and still managed tiny hitches and Mando chuckled at your determination. His tongue rolled over your clit, over and over until you were crying out at the sparks of pleasure radiating through your core.

His mouth left you for a split second, just long enough to slick his fingers with his spit, and his tongue descended back to your clit as two fingers rubbed tiny circles against your entrance. You were almost incoherent in your begging, your voice slurred, words cut off in the middle - and then two thick fingers slid into your cunt, his lips wrapped around your clit, and you thought your heart stopped with the intensity of it all.

After what could have been an eternity or a mere half second, Mando pumped his fingers slowly and your entire world imploded around you. The groan that left your lover was exhilarating. He mumbled against you, something about the tightest fucking cunt he’s ever had, before his tongue went back to town, flicking over your clit as his fingers curled into that sweet spot deep inside you. Your back arched of its own volition, your entire body tensing as Mando rocketed you to your climax.

“Can’t wait anymore.” Was the only warning you got before he pulled away, leaving you to flutter around nothing, and a high whine left your throat as Mando leaned over you and yanked your thighs up to hook further over his hips. His lips fell to yours and you groaned at the taste of your arousal, your hand cupping his jaw and reveling in the scratch of his stubble against your skin. The heavy weight of his cock pressed against your thigh until he angled himself to press right against your entrance, and -

“Wait!” You gasped and Mando froze entirely. You reached between you to grasp his cock, groaning at the thick girth that you knew would split you open beautifully. “Let me... let me make you feel good, too.”

“Won’t last, mesh’la,” Mando growled, his forehead pressed to yours as he fucked into your hand despite his words. For just a moment you thought you had him, had gained some modicum of control as you stroked him with a firm hand, but he batted your hand away to pin above your head. “Need to bury my cock in your tight little cunt.”

“P-please! I need it, I need you to fuck me full.” You mewled so prettily for him and Mando broke.

The sound that left him was pulled from his very core, an almost feral growl radiating from his chest and leaving you shuddering underneath him, ready to beg until he finally shoved his cock into you, but before you could get a sound out you were flipped you onto all fours. You tried to steady yourself, to press your weight into your hands so you could grind your ass back against him, but a rough hand shoved between your shoulder blades until your face and chest were flush against the blankets beneath you.

“You want me to claim this cunt?” Mando breathed into your ear as he settled his chest against your back, gliding the head of his cock through your slit teasingly. A dark chuckle followed your pitiful whine. “Oh I think I will. Stuff you full of my cum so everyone knows who you belong to.”

Mando pulled back and steadied a hand at your hip, the other pulling your cheeks apart as he finally slid home. Inch after devastating inch filled your cunt, the familiar stretch on just the right side of painful. A sinful, wrecked groan came from behind you and despite yourself, despite being face down ass up for a warrior, you felt powerful.

“S-so fucking tight,” Mando stuttered out as he gave a small push forward, pressing even further into your heat despite being buried to the hilt already, short, aborted thrusts as he tried to let you adjust to his girth.

“Please, please, please,” You huffed out with each exhale, and if you were in your right mind you might have been at least slightly embarrassed by the desperation of your begging, but you were aching for him to move. You clenched around him, reveling in the punched-out sound it drew from him, and finally, finally he drew back halfway to shove back into you sharply.

Mando didn’t fuck you - the word ‘fuck’ wasn’t enought to encompass the way he drove into you over and over, shoved you further into the sheets with his teeth buried in your shoulder. You wanted to be destroyed, and Maker did he deliver, pressed against that sweet spot deep inside you and making your writhe beneath him. It took a moment to find your voice amongst the harsh thrusts, but the sound of you whimpering ‘Mando…’ over and over had your lover delivering a sharp swat to your ass before yanking you up by your hair and bracing your ass on his thighs, his pace unfaltering.

“S-such a sweet little thing,” Mando stuttered, one hand holding you by your neck, keeping you flush against him, and the other sliding down to toy with your clit, those calloused fingers rubbing in tight circles until you pressed your head to his shoulder and wailed. “Sound so pretty for me.”

You wanted to tell him how good he felt stretching you out, how much you loved this, how much you loved him, but there was no speaking when his thrusts punched the very air from your lungs. So you buried your hand in his hair and tightened, rolling your hips into every push of his own. The sharp pull of his hair seemed to egg him on and his hand slid up from your throat to tilt your head and capture your lips with his.

The angle was awkward, the kiss all teeth and tongue, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Mando drank in your every moan, every whine, and sang out his own in response, poured them out in a never ending stream that left you washed out in pleasure and pride. You reduced him to this. The tight clench of your cunt around him left the strong warrior slashed down to his most base instincts, left him to bury himself in you over and over as if he couldn’t bear to hold back.

Your begging was almost incoherent, words broken off halfway with each harsh thrust, but it all melted into one low cry when Mando toyed with your clit and ground against that sweet spot against you and you broke. The only thing that kept you upright was Mando’s strong grip on your body as your pleasure crested, sparked out all across your body and left you weak in the aftermath of ecstasy. Your hand fell loose in his hair, still tangled in his curls but just barely staying put.

Mando laid you down almost sweetly, flipped your weak body around to lie on your back and settled between your thighs. He growled low in your ear when you hooked your ankles over his lower back and whined so prettily for him as he pushed himself deep into your cunt - right where he belonged. His thrusts were shorter, stunted in his relentless chase for release inside of your body, leaving you hanging in the precipice between pleasure and overstimulation.

“Feel so good,” You whispered in his ear, gasping when he buried his face in your neck and latched onto your skin with rough presses of teeth and tongue. The pace of his thrusts stuttered when you clenched around him, urging him to let go.

“Where?” Mando grunted low into your skin, unable to find the words to finish his thoughts but you knew. You knew what he wanted, the desperate want you both shared.

“Inside!” You gasped out in a rough voice, almost desperate in tone, and locked your legs around his waist tighter, using the newfound leverage to meet each of his thrusts. “Please, please cum inside me.”

The choked off sound in your ear was downright addictive and paired with the airtight grip on your hips as he pressed flush against your body and flooded you with his release....well, you wouldn’t be able to live without it, without him. Mando collapsed, crushed you underneath his weight with his cock still nestled in your tight heat. Maker, he was heavy but you never felt safer. He panted in your ear, the ghost of each breath curling across your skin like a loving caress and you could feel the curve of his lips where he smiled against you, a smile you matched.

Your fingers buried in his hair once more, scratching against his scalp in slow, gentle circles, and the delighted whimper he gave sounded like it came from anyone but the rough and tumble warrior who just railed you into oblivion. One of his hands writhed up between your chests to cup your breast, the gun-calloused skin of his palm a harsh contrast to the soft, unmarred skin of your chest.

“Mando…” You chuckled in a tone of warning when those fingers tweaked your nipple, sending sparks echoing across your skin.

“Din,” He grunted in your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and worrying it with his tongue, only pulling back when you made a small noise of confusion. “Din Djarin. You should know the name of the man who claims you.”

Your heart stuttered, racing to match the pace of your thoughts. This...this was a huge deal for him, you knew that. Your arms tightened around him almost of their own volition as it hit you - this union meant as much to him as it did to you.

Mando - Din was yours.

You were his.

“Cyare,” Din whispered at the small noise that left you, propping himself up on his elbows to hover over you despite not being able to see you. You followed his movements as best you could, not wanting to jostle around enough for his softening cock to slip from your body. “Are you okay? Was...Was this not-”

“No! No, I...damn it,” You stumbled over your words in your rush to reassure him, reaching up to hesitantly place your hands on either side of his face, giving him plenty of time to stop you in case you crossed a line. He didn’t. Rough stubble met your fingers and you laughed wetly in disbelief. You couldn’t believe your luck. “I love you. I have from the start.”

Din’s breath caught in his throat and he pressed his face back into your neck as he returned the sentiment, his words muffled and cracking under the weight they carried. You giggled at the way his tongue met your neck, surely adding to the multitude of marks he already left there, but tilted your head back for more access nonetheless. He was right - he laid his claim on you, buried his seed as deep inside you as he could and left the imprint of his teeth across your skin for all to see.

“A clan of three, right?” You said before kissing his temple, yours eyes slipping closed as your exhausted reared.

“Yes, sweet girl. A clan of three.” Din rumbled. The vibration of his chest only lulled you further into slumber and the last thing you heard before the sleep overtook you was Din whispering, almost to himself, “My own little aliit.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #mando x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x y/n #mando x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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tainted-wine · 4 years

Text

I hope you don’t mind this being exclusive for the Pro-Heroes!

(NSFW)

Papers? Check. Writing utensils? Check. Lube? Check.

You were primed and ready to begin this cocktastic journey. Completing this project will be a great benefit to Thirstology. You can’t believe that they put their trust in you to collect such valuable information from several willing participants. There’s no way you’re going to let the people at National Thirst Studies down.

With your lower body completely bare, you and your ambitious pussy set out to begin the cockwarming interviews.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Pre-Notes: The Symbol of Peace. It’s still surreal to see him in such a fragile state. Strangely enough, I never once asked myself: Does All Might fuck? “Obviously he was too pure for fucking,” is what I would have said before I devoted my life to Thirst Studies. But I have learned over the years that there is no such thing as purity.

------

After he got over the initial shock of you wearing no pants or underwear, you were finally able to begin your study and ask him the main question.

You barely dodged the spray of blood spewing out of his mouth. “Am I into what?” He sputtered.

“Cockwarming, sir. The act of settling a penis in a nice cozy orifice. There’s no movement, only penetration. Surely you already at least knew the definition when you agreed to this?” You offered him a paper towel, which he accepted with a choked “thank you.”

“Midnight told me this would be about intimate relationships,” he anxiously explained while wiping the red off of his lips. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear something that graphic.”

Ah, so he was talked into this. “Well, with your permission, I can give you a personal demonstration.”

His answer was inaudible the first time; you had to ask him to speak up in order to hear his adorably high “yes.” He was a lot shyer than you imagined. Poor guy was shaking like he was on a verge of a heart attack when you took his cock out and boy, did he put the ‘long’ in ‘schlong.’ But your mission wasn’t to admire the dick’s appearance, it was to learn how their owners used them inside a hot snatch. You climbed onto him and lowered yourself and ooooh shit, both of you were moaning as his inches sank into you. You couldn’t take it all, but it was more than enough to get the job done.

“Mmnngh, yes, very long. Pushing almost painfully,” You said through clenched teeth, scribbling in your notepad as you sat semi-comfortably in his lap. “Can you give me your input, Toshinori? How is this feeling for you?”

“Blrraaaffggg.”

“Toshi?”

“…”

He laid limp in the interview chair as crimson liquid continued to flow from his mouth. Well, this is troublesome. You’ll have to wait for him to regain consciousness to hear his feedback.

------

Conclusion: This was his first time experiencing cockwarming. He described it as ‘intense, but not unpleasant’. Unfortunately, whenever I ask for more details, he would get too embarrassed to share anything. Frankly, this isn’t the most fruitful start to my series of interviews, but it was a great privilege to meet the amazing All Might.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pre-Notes: I honestly don’t even know who the hell this is. An underground hero, apparently. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that he brought a cat with him. I told him that it needs to stay outside during the interview, but the difficult bastard was ready to turn around and leave unless I allowed the furball in. What a hassle. Do I even want to sit on this man?

------

You’re thankful that you did, in fact, sit on this man. His sleek ebony cat was relaxing in your lap while your pink kitty was stuffed with his cock. Despite his indifference to the situation, it was strangely intimate. Taking notes over a cute feline while his length twitched inside you was rather challenging.

“You seem like a rather exhausted fellow. Is it maybe the laid-back nature of the act that you find so alluring?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” His arms circled around you to stroke his adorable pet.

“Being able to just wind down by giving your hard snake a wet hot crib to rest in?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I would appreciate a more elaborate answer.”

“Mmmmm...”

You shifted just enough to turn your head and see Aizawa’s head lolled back, his breaths getting heavier after each exhale. You can feel him quickly going soft inside you.

Ugh...

------

Conclusion: Given that he fell asleep in the middle of the demonstration, it’s safe to say that he finds the act very relaxing. I can only make guesses because the moment he woke up, he hurried me off his lap, picked up his cat and headed out. I did my best to chase him and ask if I could at least hear his final thoughts, but that bastard leaps on cars and buildings as skillfully as Edgeshot.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Pre-Notes: I’m not sure what to expect from the Voice Hero. His radio show has hosted some surprisingly insightful interviews. Unlike the last two, he will hopefully have some truly constructive answers to give.

------

“Not gonna lie, I always wanted to try this!”

Both of you were red in the face as you sat on his throbbing cock. Despite the blush and slight shake in his voice, he was as cheerful as ever. “Sometimes I just wonder, it would be pretty cool to just have a hottie warmin’ me up during my show, ya dig? No sex, though. I know I’m not quiet enough to get away with that on the air!” He laughed loudly right into your ear.

Well that kinda hurt, but it’s nice to finally have a fully cooperative interviewee. You were actually able to ask all of your planned questions for once, and Hizashi gave a satisfying answer to each one.

Unfortunately, it just couldn’t go perfectly, and his phone ended up ringing near the end of the interview.

“Hold on, listener. I gotta take this.”

Did he really? You wished he would wait until you were done.

You felt him lean back as you remained on his lap. “Shouta, buddy! What’s goin’ on?”

Shouta? Does he mean...?

“Sorry about that! I’m not home yet, I’m doin’ a...special interview, with a hard-working thirstologist.” You heard the voice on the other end respond, and Hizashi made a noise of confusion. “Eh? What do you mean ‘you too?’”

Oh dear, he does. They actually know each other.

The conversation quickly transformed into an argument, a loud one. The two heroes apparently have some...tension between them.

“Oh, so I throw hints at you for years and you act as innocent as your cats, but you’ll sit down and let a girl hop on your dick during an interview?!”

You had to lift yourself off of his softening member and take shelter from his booming voice. He was tucking himself back into his pants with one hand as he marched out of the room, but his hurt and anger was still loud and clear. “Don’t give me that bull. I bet if I hit you with twenty one questions about cockwarming, you’d just pretend you’re asleep! Oh, you actually did fall asleep? Huh.”

You awkwardly collected your notes as the two gentlemen were seemingly making up.

“Damn right I’ve always felt this way. Oh man, you better get ready tonight because I’ve got over ten years of pent up feelings, and you’re gonna take it all.”

------

Conclusion: It feels good to have a full interview. In summary, Hizashi is intrigued by the combination of closeness and casualness of it all. His interest in cockwarming during his jobs also indicate a possible thrill out of doing it in public. In addition, I’d like to announce with some pride that I may have assisted in taking two friends to the next level of their relationship.

Hawks

Pre-Notes: I’m eager to hear what the handsome winged hero has to say. I wouldn’t mind if we just stare at each other throughout the entire interview. My lust for him is unbearably strong and I’m not sure why. It’s probably just the horny writer’s obvious bias towards this bird. She could use another hobby.

------

Hawks laughed once you gave him the question that officially begins the interview. “Gotta admit, I’ve actually never tried it.”

That’s a surprise that you quickly jot down in your notes. “I see. Is it something you’re interested in trying? I can give you a demonstration right here.”

“Oh? I’d love one.”

You try not to look too excited as you leave your seat and move to undo his pants, but Hawks raises a hand.

“But I want you to do it on your knees.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “My knees? How do I-”

“With your mouth.”

Oh my.

You granted his request and kneeled down to take his half-hard cock into your mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” He sighed loudly, spreading his legs more as he stared down at you.

You detached your mouth from him to speak. “Can you tell me what it is that you-mmffrrf.”

A hand pushed you back down onto his man meat. “No no no, just...stay right there. I’ll do the talking in a minute.”

You sat there with his cock growing in the heat of your mouth. Hawks’s eyes were closed, a small content smile on his face. Every time you lifted your head just an inch, the hand on your head pressed you back down. Just when this interview was starting to feel more like a hookup, he finally began to talk.

“Oh yeah, I’ve fantasized stuff like this. You got a shitty boss? I do, don’t tell them I said that, though. They’re always finding something to get on my ass about. Working me like a dog everyday, expecting me to pull off these insane missions flawlessly.”

All you could do was look up and listen to his rant. He must have loved the sight of you, going by the strong twitch of his length in your mouth.

“They just keep asking more and more from me. ‘Do this faster next time, Hawks!’ or ‘I know you’ve never done something like this before, but don’t fail us, Hawks!’ Sometimes I just wanna shove something in their mouths...like my dick. Can you relate?”

You shook your head as well as you could in your current position.

He shrugged. “Oh well. As far as I know, I’ll always be the one getting fucked by them. But something like this...” He pat your head. “Ah yeah, it would be so nice to see them like this...”

------

Conclusion: Hawks was sadly short on time and had to leave before I could even get into the questions. Going by the very personal feelings and frustrations he shared, Hawks enjoys the dominance displayed from cockwarming, and prefers it be done orally. I will respect his wishes and not reveal any of the opinions that he shared about the establishment he works for and its executives.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum

Pre-Notes: It’s best that I continue to be honest: I’m anxious. Fat Gum is one of the biggest heroes around, and I just know that there is a deadly pillar of pussy destruction in those pants. I know that I should be more concerned with the questions, but it just won’t leave my mind.

------

“So, what experience do you have with this, Toyomitsu?”

The large man chuckled. He was currently in his skinny form, which you’re pretty thankful for since his fat form would have been beyond awkward to straddle. That would be like trying to hump one of those giant inflatable characters at parades. “A pretty lady I knew was really into it! I tried it for her sake, but I’ll say this with no ego, my sausage ain’t something to be taken lightly! Still, she was determined, and I was really digging just how strong her will was to take me.”

‘She sounds like a very brave soul,‘ you thought as your pen glided across your paper.

“I couldn’t believe it when she managed to get all of me inside. She couldn’t either, because she passed out! At first I just wanted to laugh it off,” he cackled as if to give an example, but his face quickly drooped into a somber expression. “But then I realized she wasn’t breathing...” His eyes shut in pain and sorrow. “And I couldn’t find a pulse...”

You nearly dropped your pen in horror. “My goodness, Toyomitsu. I’m so sor-”

“I’m just messin’ with ya! She’s fine!” His face immediately brightened up again, leaving you shocked and somewhat upset over the scare. “But seriously, if you want a seat on this big boy, I hope you’ve got plenty of lube on hand.”

“Don’t worry, I do. More than enough for the biggest flesh towers.”

But your doubts instantly returned when the bulging monster was freed from his pants. It’s huge. Toshinori may have been long, but this monster was unbelievable in both length and girth.

Your fear must have been evident on your face, because Toyomitsu asked, “You sure you wanna do this? Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You whipped out your bottle of lube and drenched your hands. “Thirstology is my passion. My life’s work. I am more than willing to put my life on the line for science.”

The hero raised an eyebrow. “It’s...not that serious, but I really like your guts, missy.” He gave himself a few strokes. “So let me tear them up.”

Even with the coatings of lube inside your pussy and on his massive cock, this was still the most arduous task you have ever performed in your life. You didn’t know it was possible to be stretched this far. The light blonde was mesmerized by your trembles and scrunched expressions and as you tried to take more of him, his mouth slightly open when he noticed the swell in your lower abdomen.

“Oh, that is hot.”

------

Conclusion: I did it. I took the Fat Gun. Fat Gum himself takes a lot of pleasure in watching the strain of someone trying to take him in, and due to his partner often being much smaller than him, the tightness is very pleasurable to him. He was the only interviewee that actually came during the demonstration, so I suppose it’s safe to say that he is the biggest fan of cockwarming out of the five. He was very panicked when he came inside me, but I reassured him that I am on the pill. This is still a hell of a mess to clean up, however.

(I hope the information I have obtained will be useful for the institute. Thank you for giving me this opportunity)

#asks #smut #all might #shouta aizawa #hawks #present mic #fatgum #yagi toshinori #keigo takami #yamada hizashi #i got more invested in this as i went on #also how the hell do you write fatgum

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lordabovehelpme · 3 years

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Do you remember?- Din Djarin x Reader

Request: I'm not sure if you would do this because the angst levels are insane. So din and (wife)reader go out to a mission, but the reader gets hit really badly on the head. She survives though!! Obviously dins happy abt that but she lost her memory. This is so sad but I live for this andndmcIt's okay if you dont wanna do this, and I really adore your work smfmxmcm thankyou! -anon

A/n: Hello my dear! Oh man this request is such a good idea! I’m not the best with angst, but I hope this lives up to your expectations.

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, I love hearing what you all have to say! :)

Warnings: memory loss, angst

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“Cyare, keep looking at me. Stay with me!” His hands hold you to his chest as he runs back to the ship.

“Din, I wanna sleep.” Your words slur together and your mind screams at you to rest. It’s becoming too hard to keep your eyelids open, your skull throbbing.

“No no no, don’t sleep. Come on cyare, stay awake. Focus on my voice. We’re almost back.”

“‘M sorry, love you.” You offer him one smile before succumbing to the screams of your brain.

“No no no no. You’re not sorry. You have no reason to be sorry. You’re gonna be sorry if you stay asleep.” He rushes up the hatch, bringing you to his bunk, and tucks you in. Grabbing bacta and medicine, he tries to patch up every cut and bruise that formed on you.

If only he had been a little faster. He had watched as the quarry threw the explosive. He had watched as your body was thrown back against a wall. He had watched as his heart fell to his feet. Out of instinct he shot down the quarry and his legs carried him to our body.

You had looked too peaceful to have just been thrown by an explosive. And now you lay there on your bed looking just as unfazed.

***

Your body starts to move under him, signalling your wake. Instantly he opens his eyes and looks down at you, biting his lip in excitement. It’s been three days since you’ve moved. He’s tried everything to get you to wake up, extra bacta shots, small sips of water, and just leaving you to rest. Every night he wraps the two of you up in blankets and molds himself to your body.

His hand moves to cup your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Cyare? Are you finally waking up for me?” Your eyes open and he instantly attaches to your mouth. “Cyar’ika, I thought I lost you. You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“Get off me! Who are you? Where am I?” You push him off of you and move from beneath his body, taking the blanket and sinking into the corner. When he gives you no answer, you yell out, “Who are you?”

His eyes soften and his heart shatters, scattering into millions of pieces. “Cyare? It’s me. Din, your husband.”

You scoff, “Don’t lie to me. I’ve never even thought of marriage. Who are you?”

The child runs up to you with his arms outstretched. He babbles as he slaps your knee, climbing into your lap.

Taking the child into your arms you scowl at the strange man. “Are you a kidnapper? You are aren’t you? I know all about you. Kidnapping me and this kid, trying to fill the void of a family you don’t own. GET AWAY!”

He stops from where he was slowly walking over to you. “No cyare. I-”

“Why do you call me that?” Grabbing a wrench over to your side, you pull the child closer to your chest and hold it up to him. “Don’t get any closer, I’m not afraid to hit you. And we both know that this will do some damage.”

Fighting back tears, he stands up and rushes to the cockpit, locking himself in. Sitting in the pilot seat he rests his elbows on his knees and hangs his head in his hands. Sniffles and small cries fall from him as warm tears trail down his cheeks.

Resting on one of the shelves to the side of his seat is a framed photo. A photo he took of you on your honeymoon. You’re smiling as you hold a bouquet of wildflowers. The white flowy dress you wear highlights your curves, and your hair rests naturally. Taking the frame into his hands, he watches as teardrops fall around your face. Subconsciously he fiddles with the wedding ring that decorates his left hand.

“Hey, ummm, I’m sorry for freaking out.”

He turns and sees you standing in the doorway, hands clutched together and your head hung low. No words seem to form and he just sits there as you walk over. You sit down in front of him on the floor and take the frame into your own hands.

His eyes trail over your face, searching for every miniscule twitch and tell of your emotion. Your fingertips trace along your photographed figure. You look up at him, meeting his dewy eyes. “Where was this?”

He sighs softly, “It was during our honeymoon. I took you to a planet with a small population, that way we could celebrate without having the worry of someone seeing me without my helmet.”

You nod, your eyes unfocusing as you try and piece back together the broken memory. Slowly, you reach for his hand, taking his palm into your own hands and twirling his ring. You hold your left hand in his and play with your own ring.

“How long have we been married?”

He breaths in, too many emotions tugging on his weak heart. “Umm about a year and a half now.” Again, you nod. “Cyare?” You hum and look at him. “Do you remember anything?”

“Ummm.” Scooting forward on the floor to sit in between his legs, you rest your head on his thigh. One of his hands starts to pet the top of your head. “Not really, but my heart does this thing when I’m near you. It’s like a magnetic pull, my mind screaming at me to run into your arms.”

More tears start to fall from his eyes, as he nods. “I feel it too.”

You stand and sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. He watches as your eyes glaze and a smile forms on your lips. “Wait, I’ve remembered something.” You leech onto the spot of soft skin beneath his ear, sucking and nipping. He groans and his hands rub at your back. “I remembered how if I ever wanted anything, I’d just suck on this spot and you couldn’t say no.”

He chuckles, pulling your face out from his neck. The two of you look at one another and smile. “You have me wrapped around your finger. Do you remember anything else?”

Looking up you try to focus on anything. After a few minutes you frown, looking back down you shake your head. “No, sorry.” Water starts to build in your eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey.” His thumb brushes away the tears and he smiles at you. “It’s okay. It’ll all hopefully come back eventually, and even if it doesn’t we have our entire lives to make new memories. All I need is you in my arms.”

You nod and nuzzle into his embrace, tucking yourself away from the world. “Can you tell me what you remember?” Your hands twirl and play with the ends of hair at the base of his head.

He chuckles, “Where do I even begin?”

“From the beginning.”

“Glad to know you still have your humor.” He kisses at the side of your head as you giggle and squirm. “From the beginning…”

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Next part: No, but I am trying

Well, I hope you all liked it! My heart hurts a little from writing this, but hey, that’s good... right?

Anyway, Love you all!

Muah xx, Lordy :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty

If you wanted to be added/removed from my taglist- just give me a holler! I’ll happily do it! :)

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader #mando #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #angst

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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The Moon Spirit - two

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, objectification, gross old men, Dorian is a ball of love and niceness however, angst, fluff, possibly smut in later chapters

word count: 2.9k

a/n: oof the plans i have for this series omg!! i hope you like this pls comment and tell me what u think and also feel free to give any ideas/ theories i love getting that sm!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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Finding a place to get a drink was easier said than done.

You had ridden along the cold, barren road for hours – your only company being the birds singing above you, the horse moving below you and the small bundle of content wrapped in your arms who had fallen asleep in your arms in seconds, occasionally yawning widely. And through those hours you had met no one and seen no place to stop.

You eventually had to stop, exhaustion slowing you down. You moved off course and tied your horse to a tree next to a small stream, running a comforting hand through its mane as it drank slowly. You slowly stripped off as well, taking your time as you removed the blood-soaked layers from your skin. Once you were bare, shivering in the cool morning air, you stepped slowly into the stream – swearing enough to make a sailor blush.

However, you relented, running your hands over your skin, wiping away the guards’ blood with a heavy heart as the water turned pink. Your whole body ached, yet you were numb. Men were dead because of you, and - if he hadn’t already – Dorian would hear of your disappearance soon. And then the king would pick him a new bride, and you would be forgotten.

Just as intended.

Amaris was mewling behind you, hungry and cold, wondering why you had left. Or maybe that was just you, maybe you were projecting. You climbed out of the water, pulling your undergarments back on as you found a sunny patch to sit in, allowing the newly risen sun to cleanse away the remnants of the night, drying your skin slowly.

After half an hour of silent tears you picked yourself back up, pulling on your stiff clothes and climbing onto your horse as you set off again. You couldn’t just lie down and die, no matter how much you wanted to, you had to look after your last gift from Dorian, and you had look after yourself.

You ended up riding for hours more before you wandered into a small town. Dismounting, you led your horse through the town as you searched for a place to get food and maybe clean clothes, glaring down your nose at anyone who stared to long. Much like Dorian used to.

No. You tried to expel the thought of him from your head, not needing to be swept up in the thought of his forget-me-not eyes, nor did you need to remember that you may never get to look into them again.

What you needed was the tavern you could see at the end of the street.

You pushed through the street, ignoring the townspeople as you moved to the stables beside the tavern, giving your horse rest, food, and water. You hid Amaris in your coat as you moved into the tavern – back straight and head high as you walked.

The bar quietened down when you moved in, a small sprout woman pausing handing out drinks as she stared at you over a high skew nose. The bar smelt of sour whisky and piss, the surfaces barely visible beneath the dirt that covered every surface – the only source of light coming from tall candles that had been stuffed into wine bottles. The curtains over the windows were drawn tight, not allowing any other light in and the people in the bar all looked remarkably similar, tired. The woman behind the bar was petite, with a face alike a weasel and when she spoke you discovered her voice was just as shrill as you expected.

“And who do you think you are?” she moved in front of the bar, walking towards you as you levelled your gaze.

“I’m no one.” You replied, the answer vague enough that she hopefully wouldn’t try again.

“Then what do you want?” she was exasperated as she spoke, and you allowed yourself a moment of reprise as you glanced down at your clothes.

“A drink would be nice,” your voice was curt, tired. The small lady rolled her eyes, moving away as you approached the bar, allowing her to pour you a glass of cheap, hard liquor.

She slid it towards you, and you knocked it back quickly. “Do you also have fresh clothes and maybe some food for me and my cat?”

As she left with an eye roll, a man approached you, his hairline receding and breath fowl as he slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning far too close for your comfort as you trained your eyes forward.

“I can offer you a job,” he nodded his head and you looked over to see his eyes trained on the prostitutes in the corner, “I’ll even offer a free trial. To get you started.”

You felt panic rise like bile in your throat, your entire body tensing as you shoved this man’s arm of your shoulder. You calmed your face – unwilling to let any emotion show as you faced him.

“You couldn’t afford me,” you snarled, pushing down the heat growing in you as the curious eyes of the towns’ folk were once again turned on you.

“You bitch!” the man began shouting but was cut off by the shrill woman’s return. She unceremoniously dumped a pile of clothes in your lap, along with a small loaf and some fish, her gaze expectant.

You loosened the bracelet around your wrist, dropping it into her hand as she stared at the large jewels adorning it.

“That should cover it.” you muttered as you stood, keeping your gaze angry and forward as you shouldered past the burly man. You bundled the clothing and food in one hand, the other still holding Amaris tight to your chest as you left the dirty tavern.

You found your horse again, offloading the goods you had received into the worn satchels on its side – leading it out of the barn slowly, desperate to get out of this town.

Dorian was a mess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could barely speak anymore. It was enough to lose you, but to then realise that his own father had driven you away. His own father had made you feel so unsafe in your own home that you couldn’t even run to him, his father had made you feel so completely isolated that your only choice was to flee.

Chaol was trying to coax him back into civilised life, his brother mourning the loss of his friend, yet itching to find you. And level-headed as always, Chaol knew that wouldn’t happen with Dorian spending his days drinking or in bed – often both.

But Dorian didn’t know how to cope, he didn’t know how to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was okay. That was your specialty.

Almost a month had passed, and you certainly were nowhere to be seen. You weren’t coming home anytime soon and he was going to have to learn how to live without you eventually.

Every morning he woke up, a part of him hoped it was a bad dream, that you would be asleep in his arms, or giggling and pressing dizzying kisses into his jaw. He hoped one day he would just wake up and you would wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, tell him it was just a nightmare and stroke his hair until he fell back asleep.

But he knew that couldn’t happen, that life wasn’t kind enough to return his bride to him and so instead he chose to numb his thoughts. He ignored the flirty eyes of other woman, unable to look at them in their expensive dresses and jewels without his mind returning to you.

Everyday that passed without you hurt that much more, so when he sat on his throne as Chaol approached him with a beautiful but deadly woman, he decided since he couldn’t have his perfect woman, he must find her opposite. He couldn’t be who he was before – so he must become someone new.

You weren’t faring much better. The day you had left the bar, you had ridden all the way to the coast of Terrasan and had climbed onto the first boat to Doranelle. By the time you arrived in the city you had just about sold anything of value on your person and all you had left to sell was the poor horse you had taken away.

By the time it was just you and Amaris, you had acquired a small flat in the city – the walls were bare and there was only simple furniture in it, the mattress on the floor next to large windows, and worn cushions on a makeshift sofa next to a wooden table.

Every night Amaris crawled into bed next to you, licking away salty tears from your face as you pulled the thin, scratchy sheet closer over you – hoping to replicate even a shred of Dorian’s warmth, or the feeling of his arms wrapped secure around your waist. Most nights you didn’t sleep, the bags growing under your eyes as your heart slowly numbed. Amaris would bury himself in the warmth of your chest as your eyes blurred, watching the city move outside of your flat – the noise subdued and calming.

On the third day in the new city you set out to find work, desperate to find something that could numb the thoughts in your mind and make the days easier. Plus you were sick of grabbing the easiest food you could find. You found yourself walking to a library, deciding it would be the perfect mixture of solitude and work for you. And it helped that you had spent most your life reading, many nights curled under Dorians arms as you read your separate books – occasionally reciting a line to the other.

The old man at the front of the library was kind, his face wrinkled from easy smiles, and you could understand why his long, long life seemed so pleasing. The bookshelves were tall, dizzyingly tall, and filled with countless books that you wished you could search through for hours. There were also tall, stained windows lining the walls, letting in the beautiful morning light and showing how the dust danced around the room.

“So what brings you here?” he asked, moving around the desk he sat at and motioning for you to take a seat on the small, cushioned seats next to him.

You sat down gently, back straight but keeping your eyes trained on your neatly folded hands. “I need work, sir. I have very good qualifications and have been educated by the best.”

He laughed slightly at that, “That much is clear, my child. But I asked what brings you here? What is your story?”

You looked up to meet his eyes, unable to stop the pain that they revealed, and he took your hands gently in his warm ones, “The world has treated you poorly I see.”

You felt tears build in your eyes – this kindness so alien to your battered heart you couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft sob. The man smiled kindly at you, squeezing your hands gently as he urged you to talk to him.

“I was f-forced to leave the man I loved,” you choked out, “his father tried to… hurt me.” Your explanation was an over-simplification, but you feared what may occur if you revealed the truth.

“Was he your mate?” the man asked kindly, and you shook your head.

“I am not Fae,” you explained, and he frowned, passing you his handkerchief as he stood.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, retrieving a small, hand-held mirror, and handing it to you. You took it with a confused expression before looking in, gasping under your breath as you saw your ears had taken on a delicate point.

“I, I don’t- that’s not possible.” You shook your head, eyes wide as they met his.

“Where do you come from child?” he voice was gentle as he took in your shock.

“Adarlan.” You whispered and he smiled sympathetically.

“Then I believe a glamour has been removed recently.” You could feel yourself shaking, the weight of the knowledge hitting you. “Let me take a name dear, you can start work tomorrow, we’ve been needing some extra hands around here.”

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” your voice was small as you stood, shaking his hand lightly. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem and remember when you work you can have a read through any book you like. Aisle sixteen contains many on the ancient spirits.” He looked down to your necklace pointedly and you bit your tongue so hard you tasted blood, desperate to not reveal any more than you already had.

“Thank you…” you trailed off and he smiled,

“Albert,” he finished for you. “And make sure to take care on your way home, this city is filled with powerful people, you would be smart to not mix with them.”

You nodded, pocketing the information in your mind, ready to add it to your list of rules.

Fenrys was tired. He had just gotten home from a month-long mission and all he wanted was to sleep, however he wasn’t quite ready to face Maeve yet and instead he decided to take a trip to his favourite library before she realised he was back.

He was walking in when he saw you, your eyes red but hopeful and he almost fell over at the sight of you. You were wearing common clothes but held yourself like royalty, head high and gaze ready to tear down a man who so much as looked at you wrong.

What he did next he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he needed an excuse, so he was willing to play his hand a bit. “Excuse me miss, do you happen to know where I could find the tilted goose?” your eyes widened when you saw him, fuelling his ego slightly.

He knew where the tilted goose was of course, it was one of his favourite bars, but you didn’t have to know that.

“Oh yeah, it’s just down this way. I’m walking that way I’ll show you,” your voice was like music to his ears, and he smiled, revelling in how you avoided his gaze, clearly intimidated by his stature.

“Thank you so much…?” he asked, and you smiled, softly, subdued.

“(y/n),” you stared walking in the correct direction, and he grinned.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Fenrys.” He placed a hand to his chest as you laughed lightly.

“Quite a flirt aren’t you?” you asked, eyes sparkling.

“Can’t help myself, I’m not sure I’ve ever met such a beautiful woman.” He looked down to you as he fell into step beside you, noticing that you were taking a much longer way than needed. “You new here?”

“How’d you tell?” your tone was self-deprecating, and he laughed.

“This way takes about five minutes longer.” He stated and you whirled around, pointing a finger accusingly.

“You know how to get there.” He felt his face heat up as he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Maybe…” he grinned, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you began to storm off.

“See you around princess!” he called after you, almost missing the way your shoulders stiffened momentarily before you called over your shoulder.

“You’d be so lucky!” you replied, pace quickening as he watched you climb a set of stars that led to some run-down apartments.

He laughed, the smiled on his face coming naturally and surprising him. Oh his life was about to get much better.

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the pretty man’s company. And you hated yourself for it.

But he was so kind and for five minutes he made you feel normal again, loved again. See you around princess! The words wouldn’t stop replaying in you head. You weren’t allowed to be a normal girl; you were a princess, and you were on the run, and you definitely had no time for handsome men who flirted with you.

You couldn’t betray Dorian like that, he was probably waiting for you to come home. And you planned to. You would build your strength and you would learn to fight, and you would tear the king to shreds.

But for now, you had to settle for getting through each day, and that meant you had no time for handsome distractions. As you steeled your nerves you felt the loneliness settle on your shoulders, wrapping around you like a shadow, and you fought to reach deep inside yourself, finding the sliver of magic that was curled up – dormant – inside of you.

You found it and fought to awaken it, only receiving a shard of the true power. You stood in front of the dirty mirror in your bathroom, taking in your newly pointed ears and watching as your necklace glowed gently, your eyes turning silver as you released a small amount magic, watching as the bright light shattered the mirror in front of you.

Your eyes widened at the loud noise and with a flinch the magic was gone, the only proof it was even there was the shattered mirror in front of you.

You stared back at the cracked reflection and squared your shoulders. You were going to train, you were going to fight, and you were going to win. Even if it broke you.

#throne of glass #dorian havilliard #dorian x reader #dorian havilliard x reader #fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys moonbeam x reader

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punkpoemprose · 3 years

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A Convenient Arrangement Part 10

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 8805 Words A/N: Long chapter-- distance makes the heart grow fonder, fluffy date time, questions answered, and Kristoff definitely finds his wife attractive.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9]

The week was a long one. They both would agree when or if asked, but if it wasn’t related to festival plans, no one was asking either one of them anything. When they rose in the morning, they scarcely had time to greet each other in the hall or over breakfast before knocks at the door would pull them each their own way.

Kristoff spent most of his days with Kai, learning all that he could about royal manners, the history of the kingdom, peerage, and the other pertinent information and skills required of a prince consort. He’d be the first to admit it, most of it went over his head. Sometimes when Kai spoke to him he thought that he understood the words well enough individually, but when they were strung together as they were, they may as well have been in French.

He really had no real interest in knowing whether it was more appropriate to bow or be bowed to when he met other members of the aristocracy which he was now technically a part of. He was doing his best to absorb what he could for Anna’s sake. He hated the idea that his lack of knowledge would reflect poorly on her because at the end of the day, even barely seeing her for a week, he cared deeply for her. He knew that part of making their marriage work was putting the effort in to understand her world.

When the lessons ended for the day, he would sometimes, but not always, have dinner with her. It felt like a small blessing to just be in her space since the announcement of the festival celebrating their engagement. He thought that it might be prudent to spend more time with her given that they were meant to at least appear a happy and doting couple to the public, but that detail seemed to be moot to whoever had decided to plan their days apart.

He supposed that he would seem in love with her regardless because he did have a fondness for her. He was beginning to understand the meaning of “distance makes the heart grow fonder” with each passing day. Every time they managed to dine together, he could often barely calm the racing of his heart while watching her enter the dining room, watching her sit across from him, close enough to look, but not to touch.

She’d ask him about what he had done each day and would share, in return, the plans she’d been making with her sister and the staff for the festival. He’d watch her carefully as they dined, noting the exhaustion in her posture that kept them from discussing much of anything past that. It was usually his only interaction with her each day, and it was always entirely too short.

Every night since the start of their overscheduled days, he’d slept in his room alone. Anna was usually needed elsewhere after dinner, attending to decisions and meetings that had been pushed late into the night. Sometimes she was being stolen for a fitting for her festival gown, other times decoration choices, and at least once she’d been taken for a chocolate tasting. That at least seemed to be the least objectionable way for her to spend her evenings of the lot. Each night he’d waited for her to return in vain, and each night he’d eventually headed to bed alone.

It had become strangely lonely to climb into his bed at the end of each day, knowing that she would do the same on the opposite side of their shared door. He’d slept alone for his entire life, but after only a few nights with Anna in his arms, he hated the way it felt to lay in the large empty bed without her. Some nights he would stay awake a short while, expecting to hear her knock or laying there wondering if she wanted him to knock. He’d never heard her knock though, he’d just hear the opening of her door, the soft thuds of drawers and doors as she prepared for bed, and then silence.

From across the room, the small chest he stored his things in would taunt him with the memory of something she’d said just a few days before. A crystal sat amongst his belongings, untouched, waiting for him to work up the courage to remove it from its wrappings.

It would make things so much simpler.

Or infinitely more complicated.

He’d fall asleep like that, wondering whether he should knock, whether he should bring her the gem, whether he should just let things be, or whether he should just go spend the night in the stables with Sven and his worries.

At least then I’d have someone to talk to. I don’t even care that he doesn’t speak back.

He slept in his bed each night, and when he woke each morning, he’d feel like he’d barely slept. By the end of the week, he could see the bags under his eyes when he shaved. Only two weeks living in the lap of luxury and it was already exacting a price from him.

At this rate I’ll be grey in a month.

When the knock came again, he sighed, cleaned the remaining soap from his face and shouted for the knocker to enter. He assumed that Kai was arriving with another of his famously packed schedules. While Kristoff rather liked the man, he’d begun to dread his morning arrival. He’d lived his entire life unscheduled, never bothering to pay much attention to the calendar or clock, and he wasn’t particularly thrilled by the concept of time being his master instead of he being the master of it.

The door swung open behind him with only a light sound of protest from the hinges that were still getting used to the room having an occupant. It had been unoccupied for many years, and the door seemed to have enjoyed its time off as even oiling it hadn’t stopped its protest. The soft click of its closure came immediately after, and Kristoff awaited the address from Kai that didn’t come.

There was, instead, a soft clicking of heeled shoes on the wood floor behind him as he wiped the water from his face. He didn’t think much of it or course, not until he heard another familiar voice that made his heart race.

“Kristoff?”

Anna’s voice startled him. Of course, they usually had a quick morning conversation over breakfast, but she hadn’t been in his room, nor he in hers, in a week. He turned to see her, red faced and staring at his chest.

She looked tired as well and there was a sort of tearfulness to her eye that made him nervous. She clearly hadn’t been sleeping well, and he wondered if she had been upset by something. He could admit to being a little more emotional than usual when he was tired, so he could relate, but he couldn’t quite read what was going on with Anna as she stared at him.

He tossed the towel aside. His hair, which he had been about to comb, was still wet and he could feel rivulets of water dripping down his back and over his chest. Despite the warmth of the sun through his window, he felt cool, hairs standing up on his arms as he closed the space between them in long strides.

As he approached, she was still staring at him, her face flushed, and her lips parted slightly as if she were about to say something. She said nothing though, and he started to understand her expression a bit better. There was exhaustion there of course, but it was only serving to exacerbate the absolute frazzled countenance and posture she was currently performing.

It made him relax a bit. She didn’t look upset per say and he did know that his wife was not a morning person. He also had the sneaking suspicion that there was a small tinge of embarrassment in her eye and that it could explain the flush on her cheeks.

She blinked after a moment and looked up from his chest to meet his eye. He started to get the sense from as quickly as she looked away and to the floor that he understood.

Embarrassment.

It was a feeling that he had become remarkably familiar with in the last couple weeks. He’d spent years of his life half or completely naked in the woods, not knowing what it was like to worry about how he looked or sounded, but the castle was quickly making him aware of just how embarrassed he should be about, well, everything.

It was a feeling that he wasn’t particularly fond of in any way shape or form, but it was something he was getting used to. There was something at least a little bit reassuring in being comfortable with discomfort, knowing it was part of the process. Kai had been kind enough to show him that in their lessons, telling him that he was in the perfect position to always act as if he’d done nothing wrong even when he slipped up, and that if he didn’t react it didn’t give anyone else the room to do so either.

“I’m…” she started to stretch her hand out, reaching for him like she was going to press her palm into his chest.

He didn’t back away or shift from her reach, but her hand fell anyway.

“Sorry. I’m… I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to be… well that is… I didn’t know you were still getting ready. I’ll, oh gosh. I’ll leave.”

It all clicked into place then, and Kristoff couldn’t help but feel oddly amused. He felt a smile creeping to his face, completely unbidden, for the first time in a long while. He shook his head.

“No, you’re fine. I just finished up. I just need to put a shirt on and comb my hair. Did you need something?”

She seemed to collect herself somewhat as he responded. He watched as she nodded in return, still flushing, but focusing a bit more on making eye contact with him despite it.

“I thought that we could, um, skip the meetings today? I had Kai clear your schedule. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it would be nice to just get out for the day.”

Her voice went soft when she added, quietly, “I’ve missed you.”

He felt like she’d just handed him the most perfect gift he’d ever received. There was nothing he could imagine ever wanting more than spending time away from the castle with her. There was no greater gift than a break from the frustrating monotony of lessons with the built-in bonus of having her at his side.

“I’ve missed you too.”

He turned from her for a moment, crossing the room back to his dressing table. It was a motion with a twofold intention, allowing her to flush again without the scrutiny of his eye, and allowing him to dress and get ready as soon as possible. He could all but feel her relax behind him once his shirt was on, and it almost made him chuckle.

He remembered her sleeping against his bare chest, her face smushed against him as she slept in the most ridiculous and endearing way possible. It was a happy and sad memory, still fresh in his thoughts from how recent it had been. He’d enjoyed feeling her against him, but still remembered what it had felt like to have her shaking, crying into his shirt just before they slept. He pondered why seeing him without a shirt in the light of day was somehow more blush-worthy but decided that he’d rather not dig too deep into it. He’d be happy if they saw a day where she wasn’t embarrassed around him at all. She had no reason to be.

“You look nice,” she said after a short time.

He’d felt her eyes on him as he’d finished readying himself for the day. He walked over to her, tying his sash around his waist as he went.

He hadn’t been convinced by Kai to change his style of dress, and he had been grateful that the man hadn’t really tried to convince him to do so at all. As a result of this, he was told that he had more clothes coming to him than he’d ever owned before, and that they would be in finer fabrics than he’d ever ben about to afford. He was grateful though that they would mostly mimic the styles he’d always worn, and that they would fit. He couldn’t ask for a better outcome to his tailoring situation than that.

He would have locked himself in the palace’s dungeon before he would have worn all the frills and layers of other men of station. He understood the need for a good suit but would never quite be on board with lace. He evidently had a set of formalwear arriving soon, and while he wasn’t particularly excited about it, he had been promised that his daily wear would not be nearly so embellished and that what he had coming was downright innocuous compared to the season’s fashions. Kai had called it “timeless” and he hoped that what he meant by that was “simple”.

Anna seemed cautious when she walked to his side after offering the compliment. Kristoff held his breath when she reached out a hand and gently smoothed a wrinkle in the front of his shirt with her palm.

Having her hands on him always felt good. There was no denying the fact that he enjoyed her attentions, and he couldn’t help but grin when her touch lingered a little longer than strictly necessary. He’d been longing to see her for days, to hold her hand, to even stand near her side.

“Thank you,” he said quietly after he allowed himself to breathe again.

He turned his attention to what she wore. It was perhaps the simplest dress he’d ever seen her wear, save of course for her nightgowns. It was dark green with some small embroidered details around the neck. It looked a bit like little flowers and birds, though he didn’t dare dip his head down towards her neck to investigate further. He didn’t think he could keep himself from pressing a kiss to her neck if he did. Even without further inspection, the fabric seemed light, like if he touched her waist while she wore it, she might be able to feel the roughness of his fingers through it.

“You look beautiful.”

She grinned at the compliment and he couldn’t help but feel grateful that she was happy to hear such a thing from him of all people.

“Thank you.”

He watched as she laced her fingers together behind her back and fidgeted a bit. Her nervousness came through when she spoke again.

“Since we’re going out I didn’t want to wear anything that would draw too much attention. I’m glad you still like it.”

He almost laughed, but held the reaction in. He wondered how she could ever be nervous about her appearance, as if she weren’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. As if he wouldn’t have thought that she was gorgeous even if they weren’t married. As if every man with eyes in a mile wouldn’t notice her even if she wore rags.

“I’ve told you before Anna, you’ll still turn heads. It has nothing to do with what you wear.”

He meant it, and he was rewarded by a shy smile and the unlacing of her fingers from each other, only to slip between his. The way his heart raced from her simply holding his hand made his face red.

Does she know how easily I’d fall apart for her?

He had to chase the thought away. He had to focus on the moment they were in before he said something he shouldn’t, something they weren’t ready for yet.

“So,” he asked, “What are we doing today?”

She shrugged a bit, then started to pull him toward the door to the hallway with her. He didn’t resist, letting himself be tugged along at her mercy.

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Every time she smiled, with every moment he spent holding her hand, he fell in love a bit deeper.

***

Anna’s morning had, thus far, not gone according to plan. Of course, there had barely been a plan to begin with, but blushing like a schoolgirl over seeing her husband shirtless and having her sister find out about her intentions to leave the castle weren’t exactly indicative of what it was that she’d had in mind.

As a consequence of the latter unplanned component of her day, she now found herself and her fortunately-and-unfortunately-fully-dressed husband being followed by a royal guard in full uniform. She felt like she was thirteen, being chaperoned on a date instead of being an adult woman out on a walk with her husband.

It’s not like I’m planning to snog him in the middle of the market.

Then a more judicious thought.

Of course, I didn’t plan a lot of things that have been happening lately.

She shook it off and instead focused on her recollection of her conversation with her sister.

“There’s still some unrest amongst the people Anna, what would you do if someone decided to take their anxiety out on you?”

She’d wanted to respond in several ways, most of which were incredibly sarcastic, but the forerunners had been each unique in their ability to elicit a response from her sister.

I would survive. You’ve taken your anxieties out on me twice.

From Elsa: Sadness.

I would fight them.

From Elsa: Long suffering exhaustion.

I would let my incredibly big and strong husband take care of it for me while I ogle him from the sidelines because while I love to fight my own battles, I also think it would be nice to watch him fight someone for me so I could watch those biceps flex.

Embarrassment on both of their parts.

Anna had, in the last week of barely seeing him but at meals and in passing, taken a particular interest in her husband’s physique. The morning’s events were not even close to the first time she’d looked at him and thought about what it would be like to be in his arms again, to have his large hands spanning her waist, lifting her off her feet and up closer to him.

So close that we could kiss.

She’d been longing for his touch since the first night she’d slept along. All week, once she managed to slip into a fitful sleep, she’d dreamt of him kissing her. She could still remember how real it had felt in her sleep, not that she knew what it would really feel like. They’d kissed at their wedding, her first and only “real” kiss, but the sort of deep, attentive kiss she’d received from him in her dream was something she’d never experienced.

I want to. I desperately want to.

They were in the residential district of the city. The cobbles of the path were fairly worn, but even below her feet. There were places here and there that she was already mentally noting needed improvement. A few lamps had cracked glass that likely made them unreliable on breezy evenings, some places in the road were low and held water that didn’t drain off easily. She would tell Elsa and ensure that a more formal investigation of the city and national infrastructure was eventually made. Personally, she thought that such a thing might be the better way to improve public opinion of the monarchy than a grand display of power and wealth, but she couldn’t pretend that her wedding hadn’t improved things.

Every now and then as they walked, she’d catch someone looking at her twice. Most people were away from home, working or learning at school, but a few people were home or in the area. Older people and young mothers mostly looked at her with recognition, and she did her best to give them a shy smile without giving the indication that she was available to stop and chat. It was a delicate dance. She liked to speak with her people, of course, but she truly just wanted to spend some time with her husband. One tagalong is already bad enough.

She’d wanted to go to the market. She’d thought it might be enjoyable to see the wares she’d only watched traded from above, but her unwanted guard had insisted that “her royal highness and her consort refrain from entering any highly trafficked and indefensible zones” which had, essentially made a trip to the market impossible unless she wanted a full guard detail.

That would certainly inspire confidence in the monarchy. Hello peasants, we don’t trust you to not murder our Princess, don’t mind the platoon of men you may or may not know who are, at any moment, prepared to stab you!

She’d all but felt Kristoff rolling his eyes in response to the guard’s words. It was like she sensed the expression he was making at her side before she’d even caught him actually making it.

“It’s just a little further… I think,” she said a bit nervously, squeezing Kristoff’s arm as they walked down the street together.

There were a few specialty shops that weren’t housed in the market district, and while she hadn’t visited any of them in many years, she thought that she’d recalled the location of the shop she was after. Thought, of course was the appropriate term given that nothing looked exactly as it had the last time she’d been in the area. The years had a funny way of changing things, and she hadn’t been to the shop without her mother which was indicative of the time that had passed since she’d seen it last.

Kristoff didn’t seem to mind the somewhat aimless walking they were doing. Anna suspected that if she told him the locations she desired to reach, he’d have an answer for her, but she liked keeping it a secret. It gave some small crumb of fun back to the adventure which had been intended to be more daring before their escort had been assigned.

“I bet you know these streets better than I do,” she said after a few more moments of walking, giving voice to her thoughts.

Mostly she was just endeavoring to break the silence between them. He’d seemed rather thrilled to leave the castle, but he’d been quiet since they left. She had a feeling that their unwelcome follower was making him as uncomfortable as it was making her annoyed.

“Not so much in these side streets,” he replied.

He pulled her ever so slightly right as they walked, helping her to avoid a puddle she hadn’t noticed until he was steering her around it. It was sweet, she thought, that he was saving her shoes from getting damp. She also didn’t mind how easily he’d pulled her even closer to his side with the gesture, putting her even more in his space.

“I do know the market fairly well though. When I sell ice I tend to stay over that way.”

Anna nodded and gave him an appreciative squeeze for the assistance with the puddle. He was absolutely the helpful sort, but somehow she doubted that he advertised himself that way. She got the distinct sense in his interactions with the guards, the staff, and anyone else she’d seen him forced to interact with, that he’d rather be seen as gruff and unapproachable. He wasn’t overly so with her, but she sometimes felt that he acted like a grump when in reality he just felt awkward or uncomfortable.

She tended to talk a lot when she felt the same way. It was something she knew about herself, that she dealt with anxiety with exuberance and self-deprecation. She was trying to get a better handle on it, and now with Kristoff at her side she found that it was easier to lean on him for support when she was feeling out of control. She hoped that he’d find he could do the same with her.

When she noticed the shop she was looking for nestled between two houses to their left she excitedly tugged Kristoff in return. She hadn’t been there in a great many years, but the old building still looked the way she remembered it as a child.

Oaken’s Thrifted Goods, Antiques and Consignments.

She’d traveled there every now and again with her mother who, despite being the Queen of their nation, was practical and more interested in the old than the new. They’d always looked for things there that reminded her mother of her youth, little things that were made by hand that reminded Anna that while few knew it, her mother had been common as well.

She sometimes wished that she had asked more questions of her mother, that she had learned the story of how she’d met her father and how they’d come to be wed. All Anna did know was that Iduna wasn’t born in Arendelle and that she was not royal by blood. There were some records somewhere in the archives about her being given a duchy somewhere in the direction of the hinterlands, and with the suddenness that she’d shown up in her father’s public life, she supposed that everyone must have assumed that she was born noble and had simply spent her whole life in the hills.

Maybe, she thought, Kristoff wouldn’t feel so out of place if he knew that he was not the first consort to Arendelle royalty to have been born common. She wondered if he would take comfort in the fact that the nation’s Queen hadn’t had an ounce of royal blood and that it had been purposeful. Marrying for love was not common for aristocracy, but her parents had done it.

“Oaken’s?”

Kristoff seemed confused, staring at the sign for a moment as if in disbelief.

“Yes?”

Anna stopped short of the door, feeling as confused as he was, her confusion having everything to do with his confusion and nothing to do with the shop before them. She didn’t think that the shop had ever moved. It might have changed hands in the years since she’d been there last, the owner had been an older man so she supposed it was possible that the shop was now run by someone who was not an Oaken. She wondered if that was the point of confusion for him, maybe he thought that the business had been renamed or something.

“There’s an Oaken who owns a trading post up in the mountains. It couldn’t be the same guy, right?”

Anna shrugged; she really couldn’t say for sure. She was glad to understand why he was confused, and she couldn’t help but try to recall whether or not the last name was terribly common.

“Because uh…” he looked back toward the guard, and then back at Anna seeming a little sheepish.

He ducked down and whispered in her ear, “The Oaken I know, he and I occasionally get into arguments over pricing. We’ve mostly worked it out, but I thought you should know in case we walk in and I get the stink eye.”

Anna tried to hold back her laugh, but to no avail.

He gave her an exasperated look when she walked them through the door, turning back to tell the guard he wasn’t needed indoors.

“Yet.”

***

Kristoff was grateful to know that the Oaken inside the shop was not the Oaken he’d recently had some “pricing debates” with. They rarely really argued, but he’d felt on one or two occasions that his arguments with Oaken brought the usually even-tempered man to the point of anger. They’d always sorted it out of course, but he was still waiting for the day that the man would throw him out on his rear over a debate.

No, this Oaken was much older, possibly the father of the man he knew, or some other elderly relative given the similarity of their faces and builds. He seemed similarly even tempered thus far, but perhaps a bit less enthusiastic. He’d been pleasant with Anna of course, recognizing her as the crown Princess and evidently a former customer, but he’d also told them in no unspecific terms that he was too old to help them and that if they had any questions, they should come to him because he was not going to them.

“Isn’t it so neat in here?”

Kristoff couldn’t help but smile as he saw Anna taking in the many items packed into the small building. They were arranged neatly, everything from old steamer trunks and hand-crafted furniture to piles of old keys and shelves of dusty books.

Anna grinned at all of it, openly gazing about the space like it was full of gold instead of second and third hand items. He thought that it was charming in a way, that the practical used items of the people who lived in her kingdom were of interest to her.

“My mother and I used to spend hours here when I was a little girl. She taught me how to sew using old tablecloths we bought here… not that I’m particularly good at it, but I can put a button back on if I need to.”

He couldn’t help but find her excitement at least a little bit contagious as he gazed upon the shelves and tables of items with her. There was something about the well-worn tools and broken in chairs in the space that spoke to him in a way that the fancy spotless trappings of the castle just couldn’t. He’d always been practical, and the items here were nothing if not sensible.

“It’s strange for me to try to imagine a Queen here,” he said, hoping that she took no offense to his saying so.

He was happy when he noticed Anna smiling fondly.

“My mom wasn’t really the royal type… not that she didn’t act like a Queen, because she did. She just never saw the point in waste, and she liked simple things. I have a shawl of hers that she had since she was a girl, a pretty handmade thing that she mended herself. That’s how I usually remember her; warm and pragmatic.”

“I’d probably describe my mom the same way,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet yours.”

Anna looked sad for a moment, but Kristoff could tell that it wasn’t his fault. The space brought it out of her as much as it brought her joy. He knew it was her first time here without her, and he was glad that they were talking about it. He was glad that she’d brought him somewhere so important to her.

“I’m sorry too,” she said before taking a deep breath and adding, “she would have liked you.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just gave her what he hoped came off as an appreciative smile and squeezed her hand.

When she squeezed back and leaned into this side, for the first time in a week, he felt like he could truly relax.

“I thought we’d look for some things for your room?”

There was a bit of trepidation in her voice that he registered as nerves coming through. He wondered how long they would be nervous when they spoke to each other, how often they’d be walking on glass with one another. He already trusted her, and he desperately wanted to show himself to be worthy of her trust in return. Testing the already tenuous bonds of their fledgling relationship was understandably nerve wracking.

“I don’t really need much… I brought most of my things with me.”

He didn’t want to shut her down. He didn’t want to say no when she clearly wanted to do something with him. He just was unused to the idea of buying things for himself. He usually only bought what he couldn’t make or find himself

She’s trying.

“I… I know, it’s just… I know the room isn’t probably the way you want it to be. I remember your cabin being a lot cozier and I thought that maybe we could find some things here to make it a little more like that. Elsa suggested we get a decorator for you to consult with, but I kind of thought you’d hate that so…”

She let out a sort of nervous laugh and he felt his heart racing in his chest.

She’s been thinking about this. She’s been thinking about you.

“I… I’m not used to buying things… or having things bought for me. It just feels strange I suppose.”

Anna’s fingers slipped from his then, and the loss of contact was immediately distressing until she felt them tentatively shifting up his arm and wrapping around his bicep. She stepped in front of him and gave him a soft smile before pulling him in the direction of the nearby bookshelves that separated the front and back of the shop, forming an archway between them.

Once they had slipped past the shelves, she pulled him into a smaller alcove in the shop filled from floor to ceiling in small, labeled drawers. According to their labels they held everything from furniture hardware to saltshakers and children’s toys. She leaned into him once they were in the space, hiding them away in the already empty shop save for its owner.

“Please,” she said softly.

She wrapped her arms around him and looked up at him. He thought that she looked a bit determined despite the hesitancy she’d shown a few minutes before.

“I know this is all new and strange to you, but I really just… I want to do something for you. Please? I wasn’t even able to get you a wedding gift, and frankly if you’re worried about money… I guess no one told you about my dowry?”

He blinked for a moment, trying to focus on what she was saying when all he could think about was that she was hugging him. A week away from her touch, and only being somewhat familiar with the feeling of having her wrapped around him was taking its toll on his mind. He was already frazzled, just by the way it felt to have her against him again.

He wrapped his arms around her in return and noticed the way she melted into him a little more as he did so. He did his best to catalogue all the ways in which she was making him feel, and he flushed a bit when he realized that the embrace, combined with the doe eyed gaze she was giving him, was causing a very specific sort of reaction in him that he’d thus far been managing in her presence.

His wife was beautiful, he was getting a very good view of her freckled decolletage, and he was very much a man. He could feel his face going red again.

“I’m sorry,” he said a bit nervously realizing he hadn’t really heard what she’d said, “What?”

“I want to get you some things as a wedding gift, but if you’d prefer… I guess no one told you about the dowry, but there’s…” she cleared her throat, seeming embarrassed to be discussing money with him, “there’s a lot there. I think you have an account with the treasury, maybe Kai was going to tell you later, but anyway… you can afford to purchase things on your own if you want… I just, I really wanted to do something for you today. I wanted to do something with you.”

He almost asked about the dowry, the heart attack that revelation gave him being enough to distract him from the line his thoughts had been running in, but he could tell the discussion was making Anna uncomfortable. He didn’t exactly feel like telling her in this fraught moment that he wanted no bride price from her, and that certainly didn’t need the sort of exorbitant amount of money she was implying.

“If you would enjoy it,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat when the words came out a bit muddled, “I’m sure we could find something. You’re right, the room isn’t exactly cozy.”

I can’t tell her that I prefer her room over mine.

She smiled then and leaned her head into his chest. He felt the tension leaving both of their bodies when he pulled her closer.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He pressed a kiss into her hair and reveled in the soft sound she made in return. He longed for the day he’d kiss her properly.

***

Anna had almost felt bad relegating their guard to purchase handling duty.

Almost.

Of course, it hadn’t been his fault that he’d been sent to mettle in her day plans, but she was still a little miffed that he’d prevented her from taking Kristoff into the market to pick out some new things for his room. She knew that it was because Elsa had been the one to insist upon his guarding, but Anna wished that sometimes people were more amenable to bending her sister’s rules. She certainly was herself.

It didn’t matter now though, not when she felt Kristoff’s hand at her back, supporting her on the ladder they’d requested be brought up to his room so that Anna could hang the sage green curtains they’d managed to find at the shop.

He’d laughed at her glee over finding them, and she’d felt genuinely happy to be laughed at. She liked that her enthusiasm brought him joy, and truly she hadn’t felt like she was being laughed at by him. The better term would be that he was laughing with her, and she thought that if it was something that they could do together every day, their marriage would be exactly what she’d always wanted.

All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to love me.

She saw it in his eye when he helped her off the ladder. The joy of sharing the domesticity of the day with her, the spark of something that she might dare call like if not love. She held the joy it brought her in her heart, locked it up tight so that nothing that might occur in the next week leading up to the festival might steal it from her.

“You’re right,” he said warmly, “They do make it feel less…”

“Formal,” she finished.

The curtains were simple, a plain sage green with some small vines at the very top and bottom embroidered in white thread. Had she been any good at it, or had she had the patience for it, she liked to think that it would have been the sort of thing she would have made for him.

He nodded, and she felt his hands linger at her waist even when she was standing back on solid ground.

They’d shared lunch when they’d returned, eating it at the table in his room that was now decorated with a small candle holder she’d found that reminded them both of Sven’s antlers.

“When they bring the high back chairs up from storage, I think that’ll help too. We can have them put by the fireplace.”

She’d insisted that since he hadn’t allowed her to purchase any furniture for him, even used, that he select some furniture from the castle storage to improve the comfort of the space. He had selected a few items from a list she’d sent for while they were dining and she was rather pleased by his choices.

Making his room more comfortable for him was something that she was taking great enjoyment from.

That I’m also making it more comfortable for me is just a bonus.

She couldn’t really lie to herself. It was, in part, by design that she had insisted on two chairs instead of one, and that she’d encouraged him to pick a lovely quilt from the shop that made her think of the one they’d been wrapped in at his cabin. She couldn’t deny that she was thinking ahead to a time where perhaps she’d spend more time in his space, though she could hardly dare to think about a time beyond that, a time where his things would blend together with hers and where they would spend every night together. A time where the door between their rooms wouldn’t be needed.

Her heart raced every time the thought crossed her mind.

He lifted up the last remaining item they had to find a home for, a small wooden trinket box that he’d taken an interest in early on in their search. It had been amongst a pile of tools but had not been large enough to hold any of them. It was simple, smaller than her jewelry boxes, but roomy enough to fit a few small objects. The top had a line of trees burned into it but was the only decoration on the piece.

“I think I know what belongs in here,” he said after a few moments of looking it over.

I think I do too.

Her heart raced when he crossed the room to his chest and kneeled to the floor to open it. She’d been hoping, quietly, almost secretively to even herself, that he would want to show her the crystals again.

What did it mean? Why did he nearly kiss me after I told him about the glow?

***

The crystals were wrapped loosely in scraps of fabric, protecting their rough natural edges from chipping and breaking. He could feel the soft hum of magic inside each of them, even through the cloth. His parents had taught him how to feel it, encouraging him to focus on it and to guide the magic into his hands. He would never be able to control it as they did. Magic didn’t run in his blood like it did theirs, but as Anna approached behind him, he made the choice to show her, at least as much as he could, the importance of the gems.

He patted the floor beside him and was grateful when she didn’t hesitate to sit at his side in front of the box. He watched as she quickly settled herself to his side, her knees bumping into his gently as she sat.

“I think they deserve a special home,” he said, gesturing to the box he’d already set on his other side.

One deserves a very special home. It belongs with you.

The thought didn’t exactly catch him off guard as much as it slipped through the cracks of the wall he’d been holding it behind. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had a great deal of hope about what Anna had said before about the crystal, because to admit that would be to invite disappointment when the outcome was decidedly not what he was hoping for.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because I love her. If it’s not by fate it’s at least by choice.

He took some small comfort in it as he unwrapped the gems and lifted out the yellow one first.

“This one,” he said, focusing on the way it felt warm in his palm, encouraging it to give off a light glow, “is a fire crystal. They come in a few shades of red and orange and yellow. The trolls can actually start fires with them, but I can get it to warm up a little if I really focus on it.”

After a moment of quiet between them he heard her gasp as the crystal began to glow a pale yellow. He couldn’t help but grin when he handed it to her and let her watch the glow fade. He noticed the way she hovered a hand above the stone feeling the slight warmth radiate off of it from above as she felt it in her palm. She seemed thoroughly impressed and he couldn’t help but feel a bit proud to have been able to show it to her.

He handed her the small box and watched as she carefully set the stone inside. Once she was finished, he pulled out the next crystal, the blue one. He’d never had quite as much luck getting an effect with it, but he could make it glow.

“This one is a water crystal. The trolls can get them to make rain, but I’ve only ever been able to get a little condensation on the outside and I’m not convinced it wasn’t just sweat from my hand.”

When she laughed he felt light.

It’s easy to feel hopeful when everything she does makes my heart race.

The gem let off a light glow, but little more. She seemed impressed nevertheless and when he handed it to her, she focused on it in her palm for a short while before setting it too into the box with great care.

He had to remind himself to breathe watching her look from the box to him. When her eye met his, a strange knowingness there, he felt fear leave him. They were so close that he could easily kiss her, just by leaning in. He let the cloth fall away from the last crystal and forced himself to inhale deeply, breaking their eye contact to turn his attention to the pale pink gem.

She’s my wife. I love her.

“This one,” he began, lifting it from the fabric with his other hand to show her better, “This one is special. Every man in my family receives one when they reach adulthood, and they guard it closely. Its magic is special because it’s tied to the heart. I never really listened to everything my father told me about it because I never thought I’d have a reason to show it to anyone, but…”

She was looking at him intently, her eyes meeting his and then glancing to his lips. He felt his heart racing.

“Why doesn’t it glow when you hold it?” she asked, breaking the long silence where he’d let his speech drop off.

He gave her a soft, almost rueful smile. She felt like there was a joke there that she didn’t understand.

“Because it’s mine,” he started, then after a moment’s thought, continued, “It’s confusing and hard to explain if you weren’t raised knowing about it, but essentially the trolls think that everyone has a fated partner, a second half. You know they believe in fate, we discussed it when you met them, but this is the ultimate show of that belief. The only person that is supposed to make your gem glow is your soulmate.”

She flushed and he longed to give her a better reason to do so than a crystal. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and tell her that it didn’t matter whether or not it glowed when she touched it. He wanted to kiss her and show her how little it mattered to him, but it would be a lie.

It does matter. I love her. I want her to see that I will only ever love her.

He knew she’d be crushed if it didn’t.

He watched as she extended her hand to him slowly. There was a shine to her eye that he understood as nerves. She’d told him before that the gem had glowed when she’d touched it, but he had thought about all the things it could have been, and was sure that she was worried about it as well.

A trick of the light, a fluke, a misremembrance from a day where she’d been given shock after shock.

“You don’t have to.”

She gave him a soft smile in return.

“I think we both know that I do.”

There was a finality in the way she cautiously uncurled her fingers, insisting that he deposit the gem in her hand. He wondered if she truly believed what she had seen before, or if the nerves he had seen in her were from the concern that it wouldn’t react to her touch.

He dropped it into her palm and felt the racing of his heart reach a crescendo.

Pink.

***

Anna felt her heart racing as he handed her the gem. She could see in his eyes that this meant even more than he was saying.

Soulmates. The glowing means we’re soulmates.

She’d spent her whole life wanting to be wanted, wanting to be someone’s everything. She tried to shake off her concerns that she’d been seeing things before when she’d made the gem glow in his cabin, but it was hard to believe that she had always been meant for someone, that she and Kristoff had been fated to be together.

She saw the shakiness of his normally steady hand as he held the gem over her palm, and she had to remind herself to breathe in the moments before he released it into her hand.

She gasped when the cold gem hit her skin and immediately sent a bright pink glow across her palm.

Fate.

Soulmates.

She’d already known. Something inside her had known since their wedding night, even before the trolls, that with Kristoff was where she was meant to be. The confirmation had her joyous.

He wrapped his hand over hers when he recognized the light, squeezing the gem between their palms and doing nothing to dampen the glow. If anything, Anna thought that it might be glowing even more under the combined touch of their skin. She didn’t have long to notice whether it was true or not though, because her view was quickly blocked by Kristoff entering her space.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her to him enthusiastically. She let an appreciative, borderline needy, sound slip from her mouth and was rewarded by the press of his lips to hers.

It was a remarkably different kiss to the one they’d shared at their wedding. It wasn’t quick, it wasn’t chaste, and it wasn’t required.

She took the hand that was not entwined with his and let it slip up to his hair naturally. She’d wanted to slide her fingers through his hair for well over a week, and now it felt instinctive to do so. Her hand squeezed a bit tighter against his as she deepened the kiss, feeling the way he drew her in even closer as she did so.

She didn’t try to tame the soft sounds of pleasure that slipped from her mouth and into his, she didn’t fight it when he kissed her breathless. She simply forged ahead, feeling safe and loved in her husband’s arms, kissing him with love and appreciation.

My husband. My soulmate. How could I ever have doubted it for even a moment?

***

He hated to be the one to break the kiss, especially after being the one to initiate it. Unfortunately, what he could remember of his family’s tradition dictated that he stop kissing her at some point. He had work to do now, and there was only one place he could do it.

He let his free hand slide up from where he’d been holding her, to her cheek, cradling it. Her eyes were still half lidded and showed pleasure in their darkness as she looked from his lips to his eyes. She was glowing as much as the gem was, and he couldn’t help but to take a moment to just stare at how beautiful his wife was.

She leaned her head into his palm lovingly, almost nuzzling him. He thought that someday if she allowed him to, they’d sit just like this again and he’d count each and every freckle on her nose and cheeks. It was a scene that played out nicely in his thoughts, giving him the strength through promises of the future, to pull away.

“I’m sorry Anna, but I have to leave for tonight. I have to go do something… I have to tell…”

“You have to tell your family,” she said matter of factly, understanding in the face of his uncertain apologetics.

“It’s okay,” she added after a moment, “I’ll still be here when you come home.”

What she didn’t say, but what he heard in her tone was the “I love you”.

He leaned in again and when she kissed him, he felt the words in the act. He tried his best to give it to her in return.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Anna, my wife, my soulmate, I love you.

Someday soon he’d say it out loud.

#kristanna #frozen fanfiction #A Convenient Arrangement #Arranged Marriage AU

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clefairymuke · 3 years

Text

regrets | chapter twelve

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1660

When the sun poked its head through the window and serenely convinced your eyes to open, you were disappointed and grateful all in the same moment. You stretched a bit, expecting your arm to brush Levi, but only being met with the soft white sheets adorning the bed the two of you had shared. Part of you was a bit upset, and the other was glad you didn't have to face him. What would you even say to him? You placed your hand over the ruffled sheets next to you; it was still warm -- he hadn't been gone long. Your mind had spun together embarrassment, confidence, happiness, dismay, longing and dislike all into one confusing feeling that left you dizzy.

As your vision focused, you saw his clothes still neatly laid over the chair. You sat up rather quickly and peeked over the side of the bed; his boots were still there, too. "Fuck," you whispered, throwing your head back on the pillow and sighing.

Like clockwork, Levi walked in. His hair was messy and unkempt, and his eyes looked tired. His pants hung loosely around his hips from the night of sleeping in them. Between where his pants hung low and his shirt rode up, the bottom of his stomach and the band of his underwear peaked through. "Good morning," he greeted you, the tiniest grin evident on his face for only a second. "How did you sleep?" He walked over to the chair, sauntering in the nonchalant fashion only he could accomplish.

"I slept well," you answered, embarrassed down to the bone. You knew your cheeks shone red, and you wished Levi had left before you woke up. "Sorry about last night. I -- um --" You watched as he pulled his shirt swiftly over his head with one hand and elected to stare at the ceiling instead. "I was having a pretty rough dream." You found yourself glancing over at him again as he buttoned and tucked in the white shirt he wore the day before. He nodded.

"Erwin kept me away much longer than I would've preferred. Don't be sorry, though. I needed to catch up on sleep anyway." He slung his jacket over his shoulders and sat on the edge of your bed, pulling his boots onto his feet. He tied them into bows before standing and facing you. He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, sending the same tingles down your arm that overtook most of your body the night before. "I have work to do. I'll be back tonight. Good luck with Hange today." With that, he turned and started toward the door.

"Levi," you called after him, seeing him turn his head to the side in acknowledgement, "you left your shirt." It was laid flat at the foot of the bed, neatly placed as if he put it there on purpose.

"I know."

---

When Jean came in that morning, you knew you were in for a ride. You had been questioning what to do in the hour between Levi's departure and Jean's arrival, and eventually decided on telling him the truth. You were pulling your shirt over your head as Jean sat on the bed and faced the wall opposite to you, and you decided now was as good a time as ever.

"So, I have a little bit of news," you began, your voice trailing. You watched the back of his head as he perked up, waiting excitedly to hear whatever you had to tell him.

"Well, go ahead and take the floor. No need for a dramatic introduction," he told you, folding his hands in his lap.

"Levi and I slept together last night," you obliged.

"What the fuck?" he said rather loudly, his head whipping around to face you. Your arms launched to cover your unclothed body as his face turned red, and he turned right back around to face the wall.

"Damn it, Jean, I'm changing!"

"My bad. You just dropped a lot of information on me at once. Maybe we did need a dramatic introduction." You watched him lay his head in one hand and saw the rise and fall of his back as he sighed. "You're going to be the death of me, you know. You had sex with Captain Levi?"

Your cheeks burned red at his assumption. "No! What? I didn't word that clearly enough. We literally slept together. Asleep. In the same bed. Together." You watched the rise and fall again as he breathed out, likely with relief.

"How the hell did you end up curled up in bed with the captain?" His tone sounded slightly less urgent, more exasperated than shocked.

You slid your shirt -- Levi's -- over your head and relived the events of the night before for what must have been the hundredth time. You half hopped, half limped around the bed and sat next to Jean, leaning back on your hands.

"Okay, so he came in and we had tea like always. Then, some guy I didn't recognize came to tell him that Erwin needed him in his office. He told me he'd be back soon, but after a few hours I fell asleep. When he came back, he woke me up because I was having a pretty bad nightmare," you recalled, looking up at the ceiling. Your eyes moved to Jean's as you continued. "He was making sure I was okay, and asked if I need anything. For some reason, I asked him to lay with me."

Jean shook his head. "And he just climbed in bed with you? That's hard to believe."

You shrugged. "It's the truth. He took off his shoes and his jacket and stuff and just hopped in. Cuddled with me and everything. It was pretty strange."

It was, undeniably. No matter how hard you tried to rationalize the events of the night before as the natural progression of your newfound friendship, or just a gesture of comfort during a traumatic time, the fact that it was strange at best was unavoidable. You hugged yourself inconspicuously and absentmindedly, thinking of how it felt to have his arm around your shoulders and your face tucked into the safety of his chest. You remembered how, when he thought you were asleep, his fingers started to trace circles in your hair and on your arms. He'd never admit to that, though. Just as you'd never admit that you laid there, eyes closed and yet still awake, until his breathing became even and his fingers trailed away to fall onto the mattress at your side. When you were sure he was sleeping, you finally allowed your eyes to peer up at his face for a few long moments to admire how peaceful he looked.

"Do you have a thing for him?" Jean asked, voice a bit less exasperated, snapping you out of your trance of memories.

"No!" you defended yourself, before the truthful part of your brain came forward. "Well, I don't know. I hated him a couple of weeks ago. Then he apologized to me, and started coming to my room every night. He's not as abrasive as he was before." You let your arms rest on your knees, hands hanging daintily down. "Maybe I do. But it isn't like it matters. He would never look at me that way."

The two of you continued idly talking about the night before as you walked to meet Hange, Connie joining on the way and ending the conversation abruptly. The day was full of much more walking on your own than the typical one, and it was evident how much better you were getting. You decided that perhaps the end wasn't too far away.

Still, you couldn't take your mind off Levi. You remembered your anger when he caught you stealing food for Sasha, the livid hate dripping from your voice as you yelled at him. You thought of his harsh tone as he berated you for risking your life, and again when he announced that he knew of your time spent with Eren. Then, your mind shifted.

You could hear the sincerity in his voice as clearly as day as he told you that he would have risked his life just the same in your situation. Even in his dislike for you, he found a moment to praise. The validation that moment alone gave you was immense. You imagined his arms cradling you as he carried you back from the bathroom that night, knowing that marked the beginning of everything with him.

Then, you thought of how it was now. The hushed talks over steaming cups of tea as you slowly became friends were now a staple of your day. Sure, he was tough, and hardly agreeable. At times you absolutely loathed him. But beneath that surface, you theorized, there was an entirely different person. You could see it when the corner of his mouth turned up as if he was trying to keep his smile as a secret. Or when he looked at you in concern, his almost invisible display of caring for you. When he touched your hand and asked if you were okay. When he held you so gently after your nightmare that you were sure you were in the arms of a much more sensitive man.

You thought of your excitement for the night to follow, of the feeling of the soft cotton of his grey shirt against your skin -- the fact that no one knew it belonged to him. It was overwhelming, yet predictable. Confusing, while still one of the clearest things you had ever experienced. Comfortable and serene and simple, foreign and anxious and complex.

Somewhere within your mess of a mind, you were sure of how you felt. You were also sure that it would be either a hopeful bound forward, or a troublesome march down the path of regret.

You hoped for the former.

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vegalocity · 3 years

Note

Secret kisses and Touching 2, 14, 22, 23, and 44. Secret Silktea relationship, except both spider fam and Monkey fam actually know! Half of them don’t care enough to say anything (Pigsy,Tang,Spider Queen,Wukong,Syntax) while the other half wants them to reveal it when they’re ready (Min Yi,MK,Mei,Goliath,Sis) - Pixel Anon

Affection meme

49. secret kisses

2. running fingers through hair

14.putting an arm around the other’s waist

22.falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

23. carrying the other one in their arms

44.sitting on the other’s lap

this took me forever to put together because for some ungodly reason i couldn't figure out the scenario

so i decided on a little vignette compilation of sorts

They knew what they were doing.

Of course they knew what they were doing. It was in either of their best interests to keep this a secret. Just because the clan had stopped their crusade to take over the city and their queen had dialed down the ‘revenge’ ideas, didn’t mean there wasn’t still bad blood between his clan and Sandy’s family.

And it wasn’t too difficult, it just meant that when they were all working together for some greater threat or whatever that they’d have to be sneaky. It was easy stealth was one of Huntsman’s greatest Attributes and suspecting Blue of anything was like suspecting a small dog of knocking over a bulldozer.

It wasn’t too hard to simply keep their hands to themselves. Or at least, it wasn’t hard for Sandy, Huntsman was quickly finding his self control lacking in regard to being in such a situation with his… well, with him. But could anyone blame him? Blue was more or less the hottest guy he’d ever ran into before and he was kinda-sorta DATING him! How could he not want to climb that like a tree at all times?

Especially when he was always being so stupidly fucking charming. Sure the ‘needlessly nice’ stuff wasn’t something he particularly appreciated, but it was starting to grow on him, if only on the amount of restraint he must have to keep it up all the time.

Soooo yeah maybe he was purposefully pushing their luck a little, but in his defense he wanted to see how much desire based frustration it would take before ol’ Blue would just pin him against a wall and make him regret wondering.

Syntax had shooed him away from being a nuisance at his worktable, so naturally, Huntsman had to go be a nuisance at someone else’s worktable. Thankfully Sandy was far more agreeable to the company, and thankfully the bid of ‘Bugging Syntax first’ kept his alibi solid. He wasn’t just going over to see Blue he just wanted to be a louse and his normal target had already locked him out of his room. And so nobody really suspected anything when he started to peer over Sandy’s side to watch him tighten this or that thing on this or that device.

And it was pretty damn fun to see just how much of a ‘nuisance’ he could be. This particular bout resulting ih Huntsman being pressed against the car engine Blue had been working on, feeling the orange hair slide between his claws and messing up the stylized mohawk and shuddering when he felt those huge hands almost entirely encompass either of his thighs while keeping him aloft. He hissed through his teeth as he felt Blue give one of his legs a testing squeeze and rolled his hips forward a bit-

“Fish Demon? I need to get another set of eyes on these schematics or I'll actually go insane.” By the time Syntax looked up from his clipboard Sandy was working on the engine again and Huntsman was leaning against his work area and had barely had the opening to whip out one of his knives and his portable sharpener.

Though Sandy’s hair was unable to be fixed and fell to a side as he smiled at Syntax and took the offered blueprints from him.

He wasn’t a big fan of those domestic snatches of time, he wasn’t.

It was mostly an instinctual response, Spiders were pack bonders, so of course when his internal senses started categorizing Sandy as ‘pack’ then he’d relax without intending to while being pulled in with a hand on his waist.

Which was definitely the reason why he was curled up to Sandy’s side, the cool slick feeling of his scales strange against his more leather-like skin. That stupid instinct was the only real reason why he felt so comfortable and like he could practically fall asleep like this.

He felt Blue’s hand gently start running up and down his side and dammit that wasn’t playing fair, it wasn’t his fault that he had been having sleeping problems lately and was rapidly getting drowsy.

He could feel Blue’s hum as the world started to drift away-

“Hey Sandy what do you think- Uhhhh”

“Oh, hello Xiaotian.”

“You know you’ve got a spider on you, right?”

“Oh yeah, Looked like he was having some paranoia problems, took a bit of wheedling to get out but Huntsman here was up for like four days straight ‘till now!”

“Did… Did you slip him your sleepy tea?”

“Of course not! That would be super unethical! Also I'm pretty sure he’s still semi conscious and passively listening without any critical thought right now since he only just dozed off and would probably wake up angry if he overheard anything like that!”

“....right… so anyway-”

The brat knew.

Dammit he knew the brat knew. She definitely fucking knew.

He should have known better than to try anything with that Professional Snoop underfoot. But He’d had plans with Blue before having to get stuck with the brat tonight because the Queen needed Syntax’s expertise and the Sister was on shift at work and Goliath already had plans doing who knows what, and he was stuck with Minyi since he ‘didn’t have any plans’

He’d dragged his feet on the idea of cancelling with Blue, but he’d fucking done it so nobody could say he didn’t contribute to the upkeep of their clan’s youngest. It was just his luck that Sandy had been fine with coming over instead, and the brat had overheard some of the conversation and got excited about ‘Mr Sandy’ coming over to visit. The brat had insisted on stringing some of her fake flowers into his hair before he arrived, after dubbing him ‘suitably pretty’ (her words) she’d done up her own hair as similarly as she could because he certainly wasn’t helping her with her weird pre-’company is coming’ rituals.

And… Blue was a hit with the brat. He had an infinite amount of patience for the inane childish babbling, stooped low so she could string the remaining fake flowers in her possession (why did she have so many fake flowers?) into his beard, and offered to fix dinner for the lot of them (which was for the best since the brat was such a picky eater she could barely stomach some of his specialties)

And… he was not jealous of a six year old for how she was able to crawl into Blue’s lap while the lot of them watched some inane mystery show for the character drama alone since the brat called and explained the mystery within the first three minutes.

Blue was a bit awkward on the sofa, it made sense, Goliath would normally sit on the floor for how the height and width of the couch was not designed with bigger demons in mind, and Blue was considerably bigger than Goliath. So while the brat was cozy as could be in the place of honor, Huntsman was stuck perched on the arm of the couch as to not be crushed into it trying to squeeze in beside Blue.

Not that that would be a wholly unpleasant experience, but the presence of the brat made it go from tempting to awkward. Nonetheless, part of Sandy trying to get comfortable had included one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, and while it seemed the brat wasn’t paying attention, it slid down to wrap around his shoulders.

When the time came Minyi didn’t need to be told it was bed time for her, she loudly announced it herself, changed into her pajamas, and after saying goodnight to the both of them went on with a

“I am going to sleep now! And I will not be out of my room until morning so if anything were to be happening I certainly won’t know it, because I will be asleep.”

She smiled widely at Huntsman and closed her door.

Nosey little brat.

Tang huffed a quiet laugh as Sandy gingerly began to lift Huntsman into the air, his broken leg not quite able to be splinted just yet, let alone looked at properly. It seemed the lot of them had suffered some pretty nasty injuries from this last threat (and no doubt it would have been worse if their team and the Spider Clan hadn’t joined forces) including Tang himself despite being on the sidelines for most of it, he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated, and the cut on his forehead was still sluggishly bleeding all over the right side of his face, but compared to some of the others he was basically fine.

So once He was able to pop his arm back into place (Ouch) he took to handling cleanup with the only other ‘perfectly normal person’ here, a woman maybe a few years his junior, he’d seen her every so often with the Spider Clan (or rather, with Syntax) but he didn’t know her name.

“Do you think they actually think they’re being subtle?” Her words caught his attention and he turned to glance at the woman. She was in the middle of splinting Xiaojiao’s broken wrist and at Tang’s questioning glance, she nodded at Sandy and Huntsman. Oh!

“I’m sure Sandy thinks he’s the pinnacle of subtlety” Tang responded. He was pretty sure the ‘thing’ that had developed between their friend and the most brutal of the Spider Clan was the worst kept secret on the team since Red Son had started hanging out with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao on the weekends.

“They are so cute when you just walk in on them.” Xiaojiao said around a snicker. “Like how they jump apart like when you flip a magnet over to the matching side.”

“Does your team have a betting pool? My brother organized one for the clan, and if they do anything damning within the next month i win the pot.”

“No! Ohh man we should get one started up! Hey Pigsy! You wanna make a betting Pool for Sandy and Huntsman’s secret romance?”

“Why the hell would i want to do that?”

“Finally have dirt on Sandy after decades of him never being embarrassed about anything ever?” Tang offered with a shrug.

Pigsy thought for a moment and shrugged back before going back to fussing over Xiaotian. “Sure. Who’s bettin’ what?”

send me stuff!

#Silktea #Silkteashipping #Affection meme #vega writes stories too #letters to vega #Spider Queen wins the Spider Clan pot though she denies ever betting anything #but Minyi put in three sticker packs and a yoyo for her bet and she could have SWORN she saw them in the lair by Spider Queen's stuff

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