#later i peeked into the kitchen and saw him rinsing out his mouth in the bathroom 👀 (i was like 7 ok) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Burnout

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: Working nonstop leaves Clay officially exhausted. Too bad he doesn’t know when to call it quits. Luckily for him, you do.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety + exhaustion + burnout

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: this was inspired by some of my own personal experiences. please get some rest if you need it. i hope you enjoy!

Clay awoke to the sound of meowing in his ear and a paw prodding at his cheek.

Letting out a small groan, he shifted, vaguely aware that his cheek was pressed against something cold. He reached up in front of his face, his fingertips meeting soft fur. He blinked an eye open, his hand rubbing at his bleary vision. Little by little, the fogginess slowly parted to reveal Patches’ olive green eyes peering back at him. The moment his gaze met hers, she meowed, swiping at his face again.

“Stop,” he croaked, surprising himself by how dry his mouth was. Almost immediately, Patches took a step back, meowing once more at him before hopping off the table and vanishing from his line of sight.

He raised a hand to his throat, swallowing uncomfortably. Slowly, he lifted his head from the desk, taking in the sight of his desk set-up. While his monitor was dark, it was his laptop that was lighting up the cluttered mess that had become his studio. Off to his right sat his green water bottle.

Right. His water bottle had been empty for—

His eyes darted to the clock, squinting. The numbers 1:47 AM flashed back at him.

—six hours.

When did I knock out? he wondered to himself, rubbing at his temples. Two hours ago? He shook his head. Well, doesn’t matter, now. Gotta finish the new plug-in.

He reached over, nudging his mouse with his elbow. The moment his cursor moved, his monitor came to life, light flooding the dimness of his room. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the glaring brightness of the screen with the back of his hand.

His code was still open, the line having cut off in the middle, the open bracket hanging wide, waiting to be completed and closed.

He grimaced, the gears already whirring in his head as he stared at the ticking clock on his screen. He needed to have the plug-in coded by tomorrow—or, well, today—so he could send it off to George for their scheduled test run. Not to mention the video he was only halfway finished editing he wanted to upload in two days’ time.

He dragged a hand over his face, a low groan rumbling in his chest. Just then, there was another low growl, this time coming from his stomach. He glanced downward at his hoodie pocket, something sharp digging at his insides.

Well, first, it seemed like he would need some food.

He pushed back his chair and pushed himself onto his feet, wincing at the way his muscles ached. They were definitely sore from not having been used in god knows how long, now. With another sigh, he turned, pushing the door open to his studio before climbing the stairs.

It only took a few moments for him to find the kitchen. He fumbled with the light switch for a second before the room was suddenly flooded with light. He winced, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Oh god,” he muttered, his throat feeling raw, “it’s so bright.”

A few seconds later, he peeked through his fingers and lowered his hand, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. As soon as he could see clearly once more, he dragged himself over to the cabinet, pulling the door open to peer inside. Empty space stared back at him, and he frowned. We forgot to go grocery shopping.

A snack-size bag of chips and two cups of instant ramen stared back at him, almost tauntingly. After staring for another moment, he found himself pulling out one of the two cups, eyeing it dubiously before shrugging. It’ll do. Flipping open the kettle, he quickly filled it with some water before setting it to boil. As he waited, he grabbed a pair of chopsticks and tore open the cup cover, fishing out the flavour packet and tearing it open with his teeth. Just as he was pouring the flavour powder in, he heard a voice behind him.

“Clay?”

He froze, then felt something in his chest soften. He turned, mustering what energy he had to send you a smile. “Hi, [Y/N].” At the sight of your bleary eyes, his smile drooped. “You’re still awake?”

You yawned, holding a hand over your mouth. “Mhm. Hungry. I’m just grabbing a snack, that’s all.”

Behind him, the kettle whistled. He quickly removed the top, then turned back to send you a knowing look. “Me too.”

You strolled over to the cabinet he had looked through earlier, frowning as you let out a sigh. “I’ll go grocery shopping this weekend,” you murmured, reaching for the chips. “Anything you want?”

He cast a glance at the chips in your hand. “More chips?” he offered softly. “I dunno. I haven’t really thought about it.”

You bobbed your head and pulled the bag open, immediately sticking a chip in your mouth. Clay let the sound of chips crunching fill the air as he poured the boiling water into his noodle cup, stirring absentmindedly as you quickly finished the bag. After a few moments, he eagerly raised his chopsticks to his lips, a whirlwind of flavour filling his mouth. The noodles didn’t particularly help with the dryness of his mouth or his tiredness, but at least he wasn’t hungry anymore.

The two of you ate in silence for a while. At one point, you finished the chips and threw out the bag, but he wasn’t quite paying attention. He felt his toes curl beneath him as he shifted in an effort to keep himself awake, but he could still feel the exhaustion pulling at his ankles. He wished he was asleep, he really did.

Just then, you spoke up. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, snapping out of his tired daze. “Yeah,” he mumbled in between chews. “I’m just a bit tired.”

You pursed your lips, leaning back against the counter as you eyed him up and down. “You look more than just ‘a bit tired’, Clay.”

He swallowed, averting his gaze from yours as he focused on shoveling more noodles in his mouth. His eyelids burned, weighed down by bricks made of exhaustion. “You think so?”

You didn’t answer, only staring at him for a few moments longer as he finished the cup of ramen. He didn’t even have the strength to think about the tension pervading the air. As soon as he was finished, he set the cup down, ignoring how heavy his arm felt. He felt your eyes on his as he rinsed out the empty container before tossing it in the recycling bin. He turned, your gaze locking onto his. Irritation prickled up his spine at your expression.

“What?” he said, his tone coming out harsher than he intended. A flicker of guilt ran through him, but it quickly dissolved into weariness once more. Whatever. He was tired. It didn’t matter. Right?

To his surprise, you didn’t flinch like he thought you would. Instead, you took a small step toward him, your hand reaching up and forward tentatively. Your fingers brushed against his cheekbone, and the moment your palm met his skin, he nearly melted into your touch. How long had it been since his shoulders felt so loose? He couldn’t recall.

“Clay,” you murmured, your thumb brushing over his cheek, “will you come to bed with me?”

His breath hitched. Sleeping? Now? He couldn’t afford it—even a single lick of sleep would throw him off entirely. He needed to finish his code and finish editing that video for the day after. He couldn’t just sleep, now.

He sent you a smile, hoping it didn’t look as sad as it felt. “Sorry, love, but I have a bit more work I have left to do.”

You blinked, your lips curling downward. Your frown bit into him harder than he would have liked. Slowly, you pulled your hand back from his cheek, something disappointing flashing in your gaze. “Okay,” you said quietly, turning to walk out of the kitchen. “Please go to sleep soon, though, alright?”

He nodded, but the action didn’t fully register in his head as he watched you disappear from his line of sight. Already, he missed your warmth against his face, and he had half the mind to change his mind and go to bed with you right then and there.

But the deadline hanging over his head wrapped a fraction tighter around his throat, whispering into his ear like a menace. “You don’t have time.”

Indeed, he didn’t.

Shutting the kitchen lights off, he slipped back down the stairs once more, striding back into his studio. He collapsed into his chair with a grunt, shaking his mouse as his monitor came back to life. He cracked his knuckles once before settling his hands back on the keyboard, focusing his attention back on the open bracket once more.

He wasn’t sure how much time he spent typing, opening and closing Google as he ran into bug after bug. The longer he stared at the screen, the more his brain felt like it was slowly getting the life sucked out of it. He had only completed another dozen lines of code or two when something tore him out of his focus.

“Clay.”

His thoughts came to a jarring halt in his head. He turned, spotting you leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest. A concerned expression was plastered to your face, and he nearly fell out of his chair. “[Y/N]? Why are you still up?” His eyebrows knit together. “I thought you went to bed.”

“I sent George a text,” you said abruptly, your eyes scanning his face with a wary look, “and he said he doesn’t mind doing the test run another day.”

Clay’s mouth fell open, a wave of shock rolling over him. You... what? Swallowing, he closed it, shaking his head slightly. Just because he didn’t need to finish the code didn’t mean he still didn’t have any work to do. “I still have to finish the video—”

“You can finish that another day, too,” you suddenly said, your eyes not leaving his. He saw your fingers curl into your pyjamas. “You know your fans will love it no matter when it comes out.”

Something welled up inside of him, something hard and cold that dug straight through his bones. “B-But...”

You simply tilted your head at him, a weary look crossing your face. “But what, Clay? Is there anything else?”

He paused for a moment, a pebble of shame dropping into his stomach as he shook his head. “No,” he admitted quietly. His heart burned uncomfortably between his lungs. “But I could always get a head start on—“

“Clay,” you said sharply, not missing the way he jumped, “don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?” You lowered your arms and your voice grew quiet, something pained flitting across your features. “This is killing you.”

He stared at you, the light of his monitor making your face glow in the dimness of his studio. As much as he tried, he couldn’t think of another rational justification for staying up. He had no other immediate tasks, no other projects he needed to work on in this moment. He had no reason to stay awake any longer.

And yet, deep down, something anxious and angry thrashed in his gut. Sleeping now just felt wrong. It was almost as though it was a crime, as though he would somehow fail if he didn’t keep working. After all, if he didn’t keep working, then what kind of creator was he?

But the longer he stared at you, taking in the sight of your pleading eyes and worried frown, he felt something else overtake him entirely. A different kind of sinking feeling settled over his shoulders, and he swallowed.

“[Y/N],” he said honestly, suddenly feeling vulnerable and very, very sad, “I’m tired.”

Your gaze softened, and he almost wanted to cry. “I know,” you said, soft and sincere.

With quiet steps, you made your way over to him, stopping just in front of him. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your stomach as he let out a shaky breath. You didn’t move, simply raising a hand to pat his head. For a few moments, he simply leaned against you, feeling his eyes sting and burn with a mixture of fatigue and sadness. Was he really that tired?

“You put too much responsibility on your own shoulders, Clay,” you murmured, your hand leaving his head. “You’re allowed to be your own person. You’re allowed to spend time to yourself. You’re allowed to take care of yourself—you need to.”

You pulled back slightly, and he raised his head. His lungs felt like they had tied themselves into a knot in his chest, but the moment his eyes met yours, he could suddenly breathe clearly again.

“Please,” you said, “come to bed with me.”

He blinked. Then, he nodded. “Okay.”

He didn’t miss the smile that stretched across your face as you reached over to save his code, turning off his monitor. As soon as the studio filled with darkness, you slipped your hand into his, tugging him out of his chair and up the stairs. He didn’t remember walking into the bathroom, but you were suddenly shoving his toothbrush in his hand.

“I’ll wait for you in our room,” you said, “okay?”

He nodded again, still too dazed to fully comprehend anything. He only half remembered brushing his teeth, spitting out the toothpaste as he rinsed out his mouth in the sink. Before he knew it, he was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, his eyelids already drooping. You were sitting on the bed, your legs curled beneath you and the blankets pulled back for him.

The moment he stepped inside, you lifted your chin, tilting your head at him. “You done?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but cut himself off with a yawn. Wiping at his blurring vision, he nodded. “Mhm.”

The pleased grin you sent him made his heart swell with affection. “Perfect.” You patted the space in front of you. “C’mere.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, he walked forward and climbed onto the bed, settling his head back against the pillow as you pulled the sheets up over him. After a few seconds of shifting, he finally settled down, his shoulders sagging as he let the tightness seep out of his body and into the bed.

“Comfy?” you asked softly, your voice washing over him like a soothing melody.

He shifted his head slightly, his legs curling further into the warm blankets. “Very.”

He could only imagine the soft smile on your face, a fond look filling your eyes. “When’s the last time you slept before four o’clock?”

He thought for a moment. If he had the energy, he would have shrugged. “Can’t remember. Must have been a month ago, or something.”

He could hear the frown in your voice. “That’s not healthy, Clay.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, feeling his lips curl slightly. “Probably.”

There was a slight pause, then he felt your hand in his hair. In an instant, he had melted into putty on the mattress, tilting his head slightly toward you. “You can only run on sheer passion for so long,” you murmured, dragging your fingers through his hair. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. “People need rest. And good food. And warm hugs. And love.”

He blinked, slow and lazy. “Love?” he repeated.

You hummed. “Yeah.” Dipping your head, you pressed a kiss beside his ear, whispering, “Lots and lots of love.”

He nodded ever so subtly, his head sinking further and further into his pillow. “Love,” he whispered back, caught in a dreamlike haze.

Your fingers scratched against his scalp, and he let out a tiny sigh. “You still with me?”

“Mm,” he mumbled, “not really.”

Your hand stilled for a moment, then carried on. “Good. Go to sleep, Clay.” He could hear the soft smile in your voice. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He said something back, or at least he thought he did, but he had drifted too far to care at that point.

This was nice. He missed this.

That night, Clay fell asleep with your hands in his hair and a smile on his face—feeling warm, safe, and oh-so loved.

1K notes · View notes

kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Cerise

Those are people who died, died Those are people who died, died They were all my friends and just died.

Word Count: 5736 Warnings: Crime, Weapons, Mentioned Murder of a R/pist, Crude humor.

Jason’s friend and roommate, another Gotham villain, is ordered to return to Task Force X.

ce·rise/səˈrēs,səˈrēz/ [noun] a bright or deep red color.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Let’s open up our story on a colorful note: Fuck Amanda Waller.

Nobody likes her. You don’t like her. Jason doesn’t like her. None of the characters in this story like her. Arguably, none of the characters in your present universe like her, either. There’s a reason why people call her “The Wall”. It’s because that’s what it’s like talking to her. And that’s what it would be like trying to deny the request she’d passed on to you in her letter.

It weighed on your mind briefly as you walk up the stairs of your apartment building. By the third flight, the weight’s pretty much disappeared. Sure, there’s anger at Waller for violating your agreement, but it’s so useless being annoyed with her that it washes away fast. So by the fourth flight, the whole thing is settled in your head to completion. You’ll go back to your Suicide Squad- or a Suicide Squad, considering most people Waller selects are idiots. Then you’ll do the job, and walk away bing, bang, boom.

You tip your head politely as if in salute to the older woman, Mallorca, who occupies the apartment across from you. She returns a warm smile that raises her prominent and wrinkled jowls, igniting the fire in her warm brown eyes. “You need me to do your laundry again?”

Of course an angel such as Mallorca would make such an offer. It’s not a bad offer, either. Your dark, silver lined chest plate is splattered with blood all over the front. It’s nobodies blood that doesn’t deserve it, as per your agreement with Waller. Just some perverted little prick who thought with his dick instead of his brain with the wrong girl. She looked frightened, and you saved her, and since the prick had just hit 18 (a fact you learned after rummaging around his wallet after), you had permission to bash his brain in. Hence the blood splattered vigilante armor.

The first time Mallorca had seen such a sight, she had no reaction whatsoever. You weren’t sure what else you were expecting from an old woman living in a back alley apartment building, but it certainly wasn’t that. She offered no shock to your red masked, blood stained roommate either. Mallorca is simply an otherworldly being. And is that cocaine you see on the collar of her shirt?

“I got it,” you throw in return, rounding the corner so she’s at your back, and nearing the climb up the next and last flight of stairs. “Hey, is Jason home?” But when you turn around fully, Mallorca shows no intention of responding and has disappeared down your previous staircase. You clasp your hands against the sides of your thighs, “Oh, okay.”

You make your way up the final steps and stick a hand in a secret back pocket to fish around for your keys. You wince when you begin the rigorous task of tugging the lanyard free from the depths, which unfortunately fell near to your back hole. Then you slip the key into the lock and twist.

Inside your apartment is near emptiness. There’s a couch, a rug, some windows, a TV, and to your immediate right is a small kitchen beside a hallway that leads to a bathroom and two bedrooms. You see the large plant you’d stuck in the corner is wilted and tinged brown, and the TV is playing some movie with the sound muted. No sign of your roommate, however.

You toss your helmet and keys onto the couch. Then you make your way to the kitchen to search the fridge for a snack (that you know is not there) or perhaps some water. You bend down to peek an eye in, only to stand back up and close the thing. Then you pass over to the counter, and reach up to now peek an eye in the overhead cabinet.

“You’re home early.”

You let out a short-but cathartic- scream, jumping as you turn around. You relax quickly. It’s only Jason, and your face changes from shocked and panicked to simply annoyed.

The man at the other side of the room pulls his infamous red helmet from atop his face. Underneath is a classically masculine, handsome face with eyes that blend between green and blue. Black hair falls free in messy strands, accented by the one white tuft that you’ve claimed reminds you of a skunk. You tilt your head lazily in defeat. “How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Jason shrugs in his red hoodie and jeans, walking across the room to set the helmet on the coffee table. “Four. Any particular reason you’re home so early?” he flops himself onto the couch and kicks his feet up, crossing them tastefully next to the Red Hood helmet.

You turn back around to continue the task of grabbing a cup from the top cabinet. “It’s been five, and I apologize for assuming I could do what I wanted in my own home.”

“If you have to ask me to stop sneaking up on you five times, you’re probably a really bad vigilante.”

“Fuck,” you mutter as you fill the cup with tap water. “That’s true.”

You turn around to face Jason. His eyes are already on you, illuminated by the blue glow from the television. They linger purely on your form for a moment, then they dip down to narrow at your armor. “Were you the one who killed that guy on the back of main?”

You furrow your brows and look up with pursed lips in thought. “Are you talking about the main diner or the main records shop?”

“Main diner on main street.”

“No, that was Azrael. This was by the records shop.” You raise the glass to your lips.

Jason snaps his fingers. “Oh, that guy. The kid?”

You nod and take another sip of the water. “He just turned eighteen, so you know. Free game. So, what do you want for dinner? Pick something good. I’m going back to the squad so I won’t be here for a few weeks.”

Jason’s brows furrow for a split second, then he perks up attentively. “You’re going back to the task force?” he repeats, though it sounds defeated and disbelieving. Distraught- is that the word you’re looking for?

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I got the letter-” you set the cup of water down and reach a hand into your pocket. Then you pull the crumpled envelope free of its confines and toss it onto the counter, “-today.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow again. This time the movement is quick and curved and almost offended. “So, that’s it then?”

“What’s wrong, Jason?” you smirk. “Did you finally fall in love with your roommate turned friend? I always knew this day would come.”

“Uh, no?”

“Suit yourself.”

You turn back around and begin rinsing the cup out. Jason watches your back, something in his chest sinking. You weren’t his best friend. Besides living together, you weren’t really all that close. You were living a life a lot like his, running around at night as some antihero vigilante. The only difference was that you’d crossed paths with Waller and had managed to make it out of her system alive. Most antihero vigilante’s weren’t so lucky. Most of them died. But now you’re telling Jason right to his face that you’re going back. That you think you’ll only be gone a few weeks when it could just be forever. Sprayed with dark blood all over... what if it was yours?

“Actually,” Jason leans forward. His legs drop from the table and spread open, elbows resting against his knees with a hunched back. “Why don’t you pick dinner tonight?”

The glass clinks against the metal of the sink as you set it inside. Jason almost always picks dinner. Most of the time he chooses burgers or Chinese. Your apartments stove isn’t working, so eating from home really just means a BLT sandwich for the both of you.

“Are you offering because you’re hoping I’ll choose that new steakhouse?” you smile.

“I’ll get you anything you want,” the man replies. “It’s on me.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jason meets you on the roof of the building about an hour and a half later. You wanted to go with him, since you’d say his behavior is different from usual, but he was very adamant about you staying in. Jason even encouraged you to go ahead and pick your favorite movie to watch while he’s gone.

When you told him you’d decided on the steakhouse option, you meant it ironically. Between the two of you, money could be described as ‘tight’. Going to a new place like that would mean saving for a while. Furthermore, you hadn’t even given him your order before Red Hood was gone.

To his credit, looking at him now, you wouldn’t change a thing. The first bite of the food is phenomenal. The second bite is just perfect. Jason must have mind reading powers to be so aware of your taste in food- you’d thought he never noticed.

He gets a steak, as predicted. Jason loves steak.

Gotham looks most like itself at night, a view shared between the two of you. Two sets of legs dangle over the side of your building, both of which are clad in heavy boots and armored knees. Jason had decided to go out as his alter ego- a fact he thought he could keep from you by putting his hoodie under his leather jacket.

“I saw you put your helmet by the door,” you tell him. “I know what’s under that sweatshirt.”

“No you didn’t,” is all he says back.

The wind tickles the back of your neck. It ripples through the air in lazy waves, making Jason’s hair ruffle. The white skunk streak disappears and reappears between the darker-than-midnight-sky strands. Behind Jason, the moon is full and lonely. Its only company is the two of you.

“Oh my god,” you stuff your mouth. “This is so good.”

“Hm,” Jason hums in agreement, stabbing his steak once again with a fork in his black to-go box. It’s the next movement of his shoulder that catches your eye.

“Jason, is that cocaine, or powder donut dust?”

Jason glances over at you.

Your eyes linger on the white splotch of something in the wrinkles of red fabric. “Because I asked you not to eat them since there’s only two left.”

Your face slowly falls to one of horror as Jason stays still. With a face of steel, he finally says, “It’s cocaine then.”

“Then?”

“Look what I got you.”

Jason sets his box to the ledge beside him and leans down.

“Worst subject change ever.” You take an angry bite of your meal in an attempt to both silence yourself and to make you feel better. Unfortunately as you pull away from the bite, crumbs attach themselves to your chest plate and stick to your fingers. “Crap. Jason, your dumb food is getting shit all over my stuff!”

When you look over, Jason’s orbs are already on you. His eyes pierce yours, almost unintentionally daring them to look away. The skunk strands glow this close. He holds two things in his hands. The first is a small, brown pot you could balance in the palm of your hand, filled with miniature yellow and red flowers. Scarlet tulips, golden sunflowers, and blonde alstroemerias. In the other hand is a Blu-ray copy of your favorite film.

“Oh,” is all you can muster out.

When was the last time the two of you had actually exchanged gifts? You weren’t lovers, or best friends. You were just friends. It had to have been last Christmas, when you had gotten him a TV subscription for South Park and a pair of socks. Jason had gifted you a new bedframe that he later helped you put together.

A big smile reaches your eyes and makes your cheeks sore. “I haven’t been able to find this anywhere,” you say, taking the movie from his fingers. Your voice comes out pure and genuine. “Thank you.” Your smile grows even larger when you cup the pot of flowers with both hands.

“All of the flower shops were closed,” Jason explains. “Those are plastic. They won’t die anytime soon.”

At that moment, you swear you could’ve kissed him. He’s looking at you like this is all nothing, like he didn’t just drop big money on dinner and flowers for you. Jason knew what food you wanted before you did. He knew your favorite movie when you can’t even remember saying a thing about it. When had any other man or woman been so thoughtful? So romantic? So caring?

You glance down to the film in your lap. “I didn’t think you payed attention this well.”

Jason’s brow quirks upwards. Something flashes in his eyes as he adjusts his position, seven stories up from the ground. “What kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t?” he asks. Something tells you there’s a shyness blooming in that broad chest of his. Jason’s eyes flit downward to the blood on you, before his head dips back upwards to lock a stare with you once more. “You smell nice,” he states.

You look up at him simply. You know your eyes are filled with pure adoration, and that it’s showing all over your face, but you don’t care. Your red hooded, drug pedaling, bat wrangling, gun toting equal roommate is your favorite person in all of Gotham at this exact moment.

Behind Jason, a small bird flits overhead with a flash of crimson. “Hey, look,” you pat Jason’s shoulder. His eyes follow yours until they land on the floor of the roof behind you. “I think it’s a robin.”

“I know that bird,” Jason scowls. “That’s the son of the bitch that keeps waking me up in the morning.”

“Hm?”

You watch as Jason swings his legs over the side and pushes himself from the ledge. One hand reaches into the back of his pants while the other searches his leather jacket pocket for something. After a few seconds, he produces both a clip of ammo and a gun, which connect with a click.

“Ah!” you yelp, placing both the flowers and movie on the brick before copying your friends actions and standing on the roof. Jason hasn’t shot yet, but the gun in his hand is aimed right at the little birdie. He’s got a clean shot. His face remains neutral and unmoving as you take your place beside him.

It’s a full minute, and the robin is still alive and intact. He nibbles on a little crumb of bread. “He looks happy,” you think out loud. The air of Gotham goes quiet up on that roof, despite the distant sirens, music, and people throughout the city. “Are you gonna shoot?”

Jason’s finger lingers over the trigger. Even the slightest of a squeeze would set the weapon off at this point. The balls of your feet move to and froe, anticipating the bang you’re so familiar with. But then Jason lowers the gun completely, and the robin flies away at the movement. “Nah. He’ll feel the pain I dish out in the morning.”

“Don’t be sad,” you nudge Jason. “He’ll be back at six AM tomorrow to wake you up.” You turn to return to your beckoning food on the ledge. “Thanks for all this, anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” you hear Jason respond. “Hey Y/N?”

Jason watches you spin until you’re completely facing him. He can see the blood again. How it’s completely standing out against the darkness of your outfit. You look powerful, yeah. And you look like the antihero you’re labeled as. But all Jason sees is a corpse of a... of a friend. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure about this Waller thing?”

“Yeah?” you reply, as if it were obvious. The stain on you is so haunting it’s easy to think otherwise. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. It’ll only be a few weeks. I’ll be back before you know it. Then I can show you this sick ass movie.”

Then you go back to walking towards the ledge to retake your seat. But Jason remains standing. He watches as you, the person he thinks of naked so often, get comfortable, your back facing him. And, despite your word, Jason has the sinking feeling that some Suicide Squad mission isn’t the only place Amanda Waller will send you to.

This time, Amanda Waller will send you to your grave.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was supposed to be out on August 16th, for Jason’s birthday. But the concept came to me too late and I spent too long on it. Anyway, here’s some symbolism for ya.

Tulips symbolize unconditional love. Sunflowers symbolize adoration. Alstroemeria’s symbolize devotion. The reader describes the plant in their apartment as turning brown, suggesting it may share a similar fate as the reader as plants go brown when about to die. Robin’s symbolize optimism, a trait the reader displays towards the idea of returning to the Suicide Squad. Robin was also a former identity of Red Hood. Both of which could be why Jason decides to spare the bird.

I’ll go back and proof read this in the morning.

226 notes · View notes

crowfootwrites · 3 years

Text

The Boyfriend | Part II [Taza Romero x Fem!Reader]

Y'all! I did it! I wrote a second part! I actually sort of struggled with the setup of this, but once I started writing the angry, angsty shit I was like, "OH, WE IN BUSINESS." So, please enjoy.

Warnings: language; family drama (arguing); attempted physical violence; pregnancy | Words: 1,734

Part I of The Boyfriend

“What do you mean he wants to come see your motorcycle?” you asked, panic rising in your voice. It had been a few months since the ill-fated family dinner, and aside from a few texts asking about work, you hadn’t heard from your father. So, you assumed his motorcycle chat with Taza had just been polite conversation.

Taza glanced at you across the kitchen table, his full fork of frijoles pausing halfway to his mouth. His eyes softened when he saw the concern in your expression.

“Relájate, mi amor (Relax, my love). He doesn’t have to come here. I can meet him somewhere else,” he said calmly. He watched as your head dropped into one of your palms on the table and the other rested on the top of your very noticeable baby bump. He paused, then put his fork back down on his plate.

“(Y/N), maybe this would be a good opportunity to tell them,” he started, keeping his tone gentle. “I know you don’t want them involved. I understand that, and I will do whatever I can to keep things the way you want them.” He reached across the table to rest his palm against your knuckles. “But the baby will be here in a few months, and hiding it from them is just drawing out the inevitable.”

Emotions rushed over you. You knew that telling them didn’t have to mean anything more than that; Taza would protect his family no matter the cost, and if you didn’t want them involved, they wouldn’t be. But the prospect of having to deal with your mother filled you with a deep-seated dread. You knew she wouldn’t approve. And you didn’t need her approval, but your relationship with her had always been messy and complicated. And some part of you still wanted her to accept and respect you. Angry tears sprang to your eyes, which made you even more frustrated – the pregnancy hormones made you feel like you were losing your mind.

A tear dripped onto the wooden surface of the table and Taza was immediately out of his seat, tugging you out of yours and wrapping you in his arms. He smiled at the feeling of your belly pressed between the two of you.

“Hey, abejita, está bien (little bee, it’s ok). We don’t have to do anything that will make you uncomfortable,” he murmured against your ear, rocking you side to side slowly. He rubbed circles on your back as you regained your composure.

“No, you’re right,” you said with a sniffle. “We need to get this over with.”

Taza’s lips pulled into a wry grin. “That’s a wise choice, I think.”

***

“Ok, I think everything’s pretty much ready,” you told Taza as you flipped the final tortilla on the comal. He came to stand beside you and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“How can I help?” he asked as you pulled the tortilla off with your bare fingers and tossed it into the basket, waving your fingers as the heat sank into your skin. He laughed and gripped your hand, blowing gently on your scorched fingertips.

You couldn’t help the affectionate tears that collected in the corners of your eyes. In an effort to keep you as comfortable as possible, Taza suggested hosting dinner with your parents on the ranch. You would be on your own turf and could call the shots. If anything got ugly, Taza promised that he had no qualms with making your parents leave. To your modest relief, you also felt a little more like yourself today, like you’d happily tell someone where to shove it if they upset you.

“Just being here with me helps,” you mumbled, tucking yourself into his arms.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said quietly. The two of you lingered like that for a moment, enjoying the calm embrace before the storm you knew was about to happen.

And sure enough, a moment later, the doorbell sounded. Your eyes jerked immediately to Taza’s. You struggled to discern if the rolling in your stomach was pregnancy-related or anxiety-induced as perspiration collected on your palms.

He ushered you onto the back patio, helping you to sit in the worn wooden rocking chair before heading back inside to welcome your guests. You listened nervously for the creaking of the front door, which was quickly followed by the drifting voices of your mother and father.

You pulled yourself out of the chair, straightening the soft cotton of your dress over your bump, just as Taza stepped through the door. He came immediately to your side, schooling his features into a calm and neutral mask, tossing an arm around your shoulders. Your father was the next through the door and you bit back a grin at the series of emotions that passed over his face in the span of just a few seconds. Confusion, certainly, and shock, but then pride and excitement and finally, unbridled joy.

Time seemed to slow down as your mother stepped towards your father, her confused gaze traveling from your father’s face to you, eyes widening as they landed on your belly. For the first time in your life, your mother was speechless. She stood on the threshold of the patio door with her mouth open as your father rushed towards you.

“Oh, my baby girl!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a loose hug around your bump, kissing your cheeks delightedly. He turned immediately to Taza, pulling your boyfriend into a strong embrace, clapping him heartily on the back.

“Congratulations, you two! This is wonderful news! Oh, goodness, I’m going to be a grandfather!” he announced in wonderment as he pulled back, turning to his wife, whose eyes were still glued to your stomach.

“Dear?” he asked her, cautiously, but with a hint of something firm in his voice. It was something you had never heard from your father before. You wondered fleetingly what that was about.

His voice seemed to snap her out of her trance. Her eyes met yours and she smiled tightly. “Congratulations,” she forced out and you noted acrimoniously the clenching of her jaw.

Your eyes narrowed. Your heart sank with her false smile and immediately, resentment scrambled into place to protect you. You suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to haul off and smack her, but you quickly chalked that up to hormones. Probably.

Intent on making this a pleasant evening for your completely delighted father, you turned away from your mother with a withering look and plastered on a smile, motioning for everyone to take a seat at the table laden with food you had spent most of the day preparing.

Dinner was an awkward affair. Taza sat beside you, his hand never leaving its reassuring place on your thigh, as the two of you answered your father’s abundance of questions.

Baby Romero is due in November.

We’ve decided to wait to find out the sex.

We don’t really have a preference as long as they’re healthy.

Your mother’s eyes bore holes into you, but she remained silent, except for one question, manifested tersely into the space between the four of you. “Are you going to get married?”

“We haven’t really talked about it,” you replied, surprising even yourself with the strength in your voice. Your mother blinked at you, her expression disappointed, but she said nothing, returning her gaze to her plate.

When everyone had finished eating, your father clapped his hands together and asked Taza if they could take a peek at his Harley.

Taza turned to you, searching your eyes. “¿Estarás bien a solas con ella (Will you be ok alone with her)?”

You nodded at him with a wily smile. “Yo sé dónde están todos los cuchillos en esta casa (I know where all the knives are in this house).”

A loud, deep laugh belted from Taza’s chest as you stood and began collecting plates. You could see him shaking his head out of the corner of his eyes, motioning your father towards the garage.

You were standing in front of the sink, rinsing dishes when you heard the clicking of heels behind you, your mother coming to stop across the counter. You waited with bated breath for the inevitable confrontation, your stomach in knots.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked finally, a bitter edge of hurt creeping into her voice.

You looked down into the sink, realizing you were white-knuckling a spoon. “Why would I?” you demanded. “The last time I saw you, you made it very clear that you don’t approve of Che.”

“I just want what’s best for you!” she insisted, her hands clenching by her sides.

“You don’t know what’s best for me! I’m not you!” You slapped the faucet off and grabbed a kitchen towel to violently dry your hands, coming to face your mother completely. You watched as her eyes flickered quickly to your belly and then back to your face, the sight seemingly fueling her fire.

“I do know that you have no business having children out of wedlock with a man who’s twice your age,” she snapped, stepping closer to you, and your body reacted to the perceived threat, your heart thundering against your ribcage, heat radiating from your face.

“You don’t get to make those decisions for me! Che is the best partner I’ve ever had and he’s going to be an incredible father. Which you would know if you even gave him a chance, but you won’t. You refuse to accept that this is my life, and I’ll live it however the fuck I want!” You could hear your volume rising, but you were beyond controlling it. By the end of your rant, you were screaming, inches from your mother’s furious face, her eyes glinting and her lips set into a scowl. Suddenly, Taza was running into the house and coming to a stop behind you, pulling you gently away from your mother while your father tugged your mother away from you.

“I can’t believe I raised such an ungrateful bitch,” your mother spat, and you swung. Luckily for your mother, Taza had pulled you out of reach, and your fist missed her by several inches.

“Get out of my house!” you hissed, struggling against Taza’s arms, angry tears staining your cheeks.

Your father, looking appropriately mortified, dragged your mother out of the front door and into their car.

Part III of The Boyfriend

#mayans fx #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans imagine #mayans fanfic #mayans x reader #taza romero #taza romero x reader #taza romero imagine #che taza romero #mayans oneshot

192 notes · View notes

writtenbynightlock · 3 years

Note

heeeey, can i request scenario where miya twins(separate) bokuto and hinata ( i can feel this ✨chaotic✨ energy). They are about to take shower with their s/o, horny and needy but it turns out that s/o l o v e hella hot water and boys like “wtf what’s wrong with u girl” but u know still fluff and cute👉🏻👈🏻🥺 sorry if there was some mistakes, english isn’t my first language. anyway if u not comfortable with this request i wish u have a good start of the year💖

Hot Shower with S/O

Warning(s): suggestive themes, post! time-skip spoilers

Ft. Bokuto Koutaro, Hinata Shoyo & Miya Twins

Note: Requests are open 💌

A/N: Your English is great! Keep up the good work and thank you for the request <3 have a good start of the year also :D so sorry for the delay >.<

Masterlist | Rules

》 Bokuto Koutaro

The sunlight made your dim curtains glow. Sleeping peacefully in bed was you and Bokuto. It was still quite early in the morning but Bokuto is an early riser.

As he opens his eyes, he smiles when he saw your sleeping figure, lips parted as you breath in and out.

You were sleeping in your silky nightgown, the straps falling to your arms — revealing a bit of your breasts. Bokuto’s eyes widen at the sight but he can’t help but feel giddy to see such a beautiful and sexy woman sleeping beside him.

Even though you and Bokuto shared a good amount of intimate moments, he was still shy whenever some of your intimate parts were showing, making Bokuto immediately cover his eyes, blushing madly. He peeked a little and decided to gently return the strap to its rightful place, not wanting for him to see freely without your consent.

At first he sigh in relief, but he suddenly felt a bit fuzzy. The sight of your breasts was enough to make him feel aroused — making him as awake as ever. It was one of those moments when he craves your touch and attention. He didn’t want to wake you up just to satisfy his needs. He didn’t want to be selfish.

Bokuto didn’t know how long he was admiring your face, trying to distract himself from those lewd thoughts but his eyes widened when he saw your eyes suddenly looking straight into his, heart thumping in his chest just like the first time he saw you.

“Good morning, Bo” you greeted with a sleepy smile, rubbing your eyes.

“Good morning my sugarplum!” Bo says with a big smile on his face, quickly pulling you into him as he gives you multiple kisses on your face, making you giggle.

“Looks like you had a good night’s sleep”

You say, running your fingers through his hair that just makes Bokuto melt, puppy dog eyes instantly at the touch.

“Let’s take a shower!”

“Okay-”

You squealed as Bokuto suddenly lifts you up from the bed and carries your bridal style to the bathroom.

“You have quite the energy this morning, Bo.”

Your innocence just made him stir up even more. Oh how he wanted to get a taste of you right there.

“(Y/n)-chan. Can I ask for kisses? I have a problem” says Bokuto shyly, looking away from you with his cheeks tinted red at the request. You raised your eyebrows to what he meant by problem. As you looked down, you finally get it. You cup his cheek and caressed it with your thumb.

“Now what got you so hard early in the morning, Bo?”

“You just look so dang sexy in that nightgown.”

You could melt right there. Bokuto was being so respectful towards you as he kept closing his eyes, fighting the urge to look at your beautiful breasts. Not wanting to strain him from his needs any further, you strip off your clothes.

“Open your eyes, Bo. I’m all yours.”

From his hair being droopy to instantly back alive, Bokuto smiles and immediately stripped, instantly pulling your body onto his, kissing you passionately and moaned at the feeling of your soft breasts against his chest.

“Turn on the water baby. We’re supposed to be showering.”

You say with a giggle. Bokuto didn’t listen as he wrapped his arms around you and kept kissing you all over your face, your neck and jaw. Reaching for the knob, hot water started to shower, hitting you and Bokuto but the ace was startled, instantly jumping from his spot.

“Baby- ow!”

Your eyes widened as you saw Bokuto on the ground — he slipped. Bokuto looks at you with puppy dog eyes, pouting like a baby.

“Bo! Are you okay?”

“What the heck? Why did you turn it on?”

“You know how much I love hot water when I shower.”

A smirk then appeared on Bokuto’s face that sent shivers down your spine as Bokuto then caged you between him and the tile wall.

“Why don’t we heat things up more then?”

》 Miya Atsumu

It was one of those rare moments when you were the last one to arrive in your shared apartment with Atsumu.

“‘Tsumu?” you call for your fiancé, observing that the living room and kitchen was empty. Not hearing a response, you then went to you your shared bedroom but he wasn’t there. Hearing the sound of the shower running, it indicated that he just got home a few minutes earlier than you.

Opening the bathroom door, you could see Atsumu rinsing his hair. Hearing you enter, he turned around and beamed as he saw you.

“Welcome home, babe! Like what you see?” says Atsumu with a smug smile as he leans his arm on the wall and the other on his hips, empahasizing his naked figure. You roll your eyes at his childishness but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What am I seeing?”

“Total hotness.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

From a smile to a frown, Atsumu gave you one of the most hurt expressions he could muster, crushing his ego.

“I’m so hurt by that babe.”

“I’m just kidding. You know I love you, ‘Tsumu.”

“Show me how much you love me then”

Atsumu remains silent as he stares at you, something dark encircling his orbs. You raised your eyebrows as he gazes at you from head to toe, checking you out in your office clothes, your tight knee length skirt that empahsizes your curves and how you purposefully let three of the buttons unbuttoned. You teased Atsumu, noticing how he has been texting you some dirty hints for the past few days. Stripping off your clothes, you then joined him inside the shower, smirking to how Atsumu kept his gaze on you, gulping to see you with no clothes on.

Atsumu leans down to your face, a smirk appearing.

“How was work baby?”

“Oh you know same old. How about you? Training must be exhausting, huh?”

You say with a smile as you felt butterflies in your stomach as Atsumu brushes his lips on yours. Your eyes widen and let out a squeak when he suddenly pulls you close and cups your butt, hands gripping on his shoulders for support.

“Oh believe me, I’m exhausted. All it takes for me to recover is some kisses.”

“I’m not that easy.”

“Oh please. You even said yes to my proposal.”

Flashbacks of Atsumu proposing to you to marry him was one of the happiest moments in your life. It still gave you butterflies to your stomach thinking about it like it was only yesterday.

Before you even get to reply, Atsumu smashes his lips onto yours, hungry for your lips. You moaned as his tongue slips in to your mouth, making Atsumu grip onto your ass even more. It was quite funny to see your fiancé desperate for you even though you two dated for a real while now. It’s like the first time you two kiss. An idea popped into your head, wanting to tease Atsumu.

“Yer so hot, (Y/N). I can’t get enough of ya.”

“Thanks babe.”

As you tilted your head to give him more room to kiss on your neck, you reached for the heater as the shower running, transitioning the temperature of the water from cold to hot hot — making Atsumu yelp and panickly turn off the shower before facing you.

“What the hell is wrong with ya?! I thought this was supposed to be sexy time!”

You laughed loudly as Atsumu’s face was beet red.

“Yer lucky yer so cute.”

》 Hinata Shoyo

Hinata Shoyo came from practice and just wanted to soak into the bathtub — wanting to relax.

“(Y/n)-chan? I’m home!”

Heading towards the door, you greeted Hinata with a kiss on the cheeks before taking of his MSBY jacket and placing it in the laundry basket for you to take care of it later.

“You look tired, sunshine. You want to take a bath?”

Hinata’s heart flutters as you addressed him by his nickname you gave for him ever since you two started dating. He loved how you call him, noticing the loving tone you put in.

“I really do. I’ll go prepare the tub now!”

Before you could even reply, Hinata hurriedly went to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He somehow felt a bit weird and he could feel his pants tightening. The wing spiker started to freak out, his face red. Wanting to get those thoughts off, he quickly took off his clothes and started to fill the tub with lukewarm water and pouring his favourite bath bomb that you introduced him to. He loves how the bath bomb makes your skin smell so good and milky smooth-

“Aahhh!”

From the kitchen, you stopped what you were doing as you heard Hinata’s scream. Alarmed, you quickly knocked on the bathroom door.

“Shoyo?! Are you okay?”

“(Y/n)-chan!”

“I’m coming in, okay?”

As you enter the bathroom, you saw Hinata already in the tub, the water still midway his hips but what caught your attention was his member making itself known, making your eyes widen.

“(Y/n)-kun! Don’t-”

“You need help with that, baby?”

Now you’ve done it. Hinata was more needy now. Hinata has been wanting to do you but he was shy to do so until the day finally came where he reached his limits.

“N-no! You don’t have-”

Hinata was in a stuttering mess as you start to strip off your clothes.

“You could’ve just asked, Shoyo. I don’t mind at all.”

You say with smile as you joined him in the tub, sitting on his lap and wrap your arms around neck.

“I-I want you, (Y/n)-chan!”

You let out a chuckle before you placed your lips onto his, Hinata instantly wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. You two had quite a make out session. Without knowing where your hands were going, you accidentally turned on the shower.

“Ack! (Y/N)-chan! Why did you turn on the shower?”

The poor baby rested his face on your chest as you immediately turned off the shower. The hot water didn’t startled you as you loved and preffered that temperature to shower in but Hinata was more into cold showers.

“I’m so sorry, Shoyo! I didn’t mean to.”

“Take care of me please.”

》 Miya Osamu

You and Osamu were just hanging on the couch of your shared apartment, watching Osamu’s favourite cooking show.

“Gosh. You really don’t want to make Gordon Ramsay angry.”

Osamu hummed as placed multiple kisses on the side of your head, his muscular arms around your waist and legs tangled to yours.

It was just a lazy saturday night — with the two of you finishing 15 episodes in one sitting after eating dinner. As you lay into your boyfriend’s chest, you noticed how Osamu has been running his hand up and down your back and from time to time, he nimbled on your ear — a spot where he knows very well that you were vulnerable to, making you moan quietly. You gave into his touch and nuzzled your head further into his neck.

“‘Samu~”

“Yea baby?”

“‘Samu, I have to take a shower. It’s super late at night.”

“Can I come with?”

“It ain’t bad for the water bill so why not?”

You say with a giggle before getting up — Osamu’s eyes lingering on your fading figure, him getting a bit more needy than usual. He craved for your touch. He wanted love from you after being so busy managing Onigiri Miya.

Arriving in the bathroom, you were about to take off your clothes when Osamu caged you in between his arms, holding the sink. Your back was facing him so you look straight in the mirros with an amused smile on your face, seeing how your boyfriend nuzzled his face into your neck, shivering at his touch as you felt his warm lips and hot breath on your skin.

“Oh? Someone’s needy today.”

You say teasingly and brought a hand up to cup his cheek and lean your head back onto his shoulder, enjoying his kisses.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about ya all day.”

Smiling, you turned around and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Osamu moans as he finally got a taste of your sweet lips, his arms immediately wrapping around your bum to help you sit down on the bathroom sink. You automotive wrapped your legs around Osamu’s waist, pulling him closer which made him groan even louder.

You pulled away, butterflies in your stomach and lips swollen from the kiss. You smirk as Osamu’s eyes were furrowed, not yet contented with the contact.

“You’re getting loud, ‘Samu. The neighbors might hear.”

“Yer such a tease. Why don’t we turn on the shower then?”

You raised your arms up, gesturing for Osamu to strip you. With a smirk, Osamu takes of your shirt while you take off your shorts. It was your turn to strip Osamu from his clothes. Your eyes were blessed to see his muscular build, your boyfriend smiling proudly the way you gawked at his body — boosting his confidence.

Stepping into the shower, Osamu turned on the water heater to neutral before pinning you against the wall, finally be able to make love to you. The cold tile wall against your back makes you shiver, Osamu taking this as an advantage to find your weak spots on your neck, you biting back a moan.

“Yer so beautiful, darlin’.”

Your fingers got lost in his hair, suddenly gripping it as he hits the spot on your neck, making him more turned on.

“Hop on a count of 3. One... two... three.”

As you hopped, Osamu securely catches you, your face now level witn his. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your hands on his neck, you two shared another passionate kiss — lips moving in sync with love and lust. You wanted this intimate moment to be more steamy, making you set the heater into hot mode, the hot water making contact with Osamu’s back, making him shout and jump from his spot.

“What the fuck?! It hurts! Did you do that, baby?”

“Sorry. It just got a little bit cold. Plus, i wanted this moment to be steamy if you know what i mean” you say with an exaggerated wink.

Osamu blinks at you for a moment before letting out a laugh, throwing his head back to how cute you were. Smiling, Osamu sets you down and hugs you, kissing your forehead.

“Damn i love you.”

“I love you too, my lil’ onigiri. Now shut up and kiss me.”

204 notes · View notes

gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

Text

Sunshine

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: After a long night, Ron surprises you the following morning with a sweet gesture.

Warnings: stress, mentions of injury, mentions of food, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 2.1k

“Have I told you that I love you today?”

“I fixed you breakfast. I know it’s just a bowl of cereal, but it’s the only thing I can’t burn.”

A/N: This is my fic for @writeroutoftime 1k writing challenge! The prompts I used above are bolded and italicized in the fic. Congratulations again, Rita, I hope you enjoy my lovely!!

(gif found on pinterest, credits to the maker)

The day began almost too soon, faint streams of sunlight peeking through the sheer curtains only to be stolen temporarily by the periodic clouds you presumed. It felt as though you had just slipped into bed, as if it was just mere seconds ago that the room was dimly lit with the moonlight and you had tucked yourself against the love of your life. It had been an extraordinarily late shift at St. Mungo’s, patient after patient walking through the door just waiting to be healed whether their injuries were significant or superficial. You were exhausted by the very end of it and in desperate need of sleep. But dawn had rolled around without a pause, and very much to your dismay.

Upon closer inspection, you frown at the empty space next to you, breathing out a sigh as you rubbed your tired eyes once more. It had been far too quiet, you knew it the moment you heard the ticking of the clock on the dresser rather than the usual snoring that was almost always muffled into your neck. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the very idea of getting out of bed, but the thought of getting any more sleep without your beau to curl into simply wasn’t feasible. So, with another huff, you left the warmth of the blankets and sheets and padded your way downstairs in search of him.

The house had been comfortingly quiet, an aura that only ever seemed to exist at that hour no matter where you were. The mismatched clocks dotting along the walls and mantle chimed once to signal it’d been half past eight, and the scent of your sweet candles wafted to you once you made it to the living room. It was clear that it’d rain sometime that day, the puffy gray clouds increasingly covering the blue sky as the breeze blew. The patchwork blankets were sprawled across the couch surely in preparation for a day spent doing very little, and you were more than fine with being unproductive.

The familiar screech of your teapot had grabbed your attention, not to mention the potent smell of coffee being brewed and you immediately found yourself following it.

A smile pulled at your lips when you walk in the kitchen, your heart fluttering in your chest at the sight of the unruly ginger bedhead. His back had been to you as he fixed his morning coffee, grabbing his favorite mug from the sage colored cabinets. Ron may have been more of a coffee person over tea sometimes, though really it’d always been more sugar and cream than anything. He even went so far as to slip in a few pieces of chocolate to melt into his drink.

He heard your footfalls, no matter how light they may have been and he was quick to turn around. The softest of smiles graces his lips as he looks at you, a blush soon to follow at the sight of his old quidditch sweater hanging from your shoulders in tattered ruffles of yellow and maroon. It was something you wordlessly decided to claim as your own, and he hadn’t minded it in the slightest. He’d felt a swell of pride in his chest whenever you wore it, but mostly he was just enamored by you.

“Hey,” He says, setting his mug down and crossing the kitchen in a few strides. His arms were quick to envelop you in his embrace, his lips finding yours in an instant. “‘Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning,” you whisper tiredly with a hum, your arms wrapping around his neck as your sleepy smile widens at the nickname. “Missed you.”

He laughed softly, his breath fanning against your lips. It wasn’t a laugh of mocking, but rather one of giddiness upon the fact that you had missed him. A deeper blush stained his freckled cheeks and he hid it with another kiss.

“Sorry to have left you alone,” he murmurs, “but I fixed you breakfast. I know it’s just a bowl of cereal, but it’s the only thing I can’t burn. It’s not the best but I know you got in late last night and I wanted to surprise you.”

He laughs timidly at his rambling, scratching the back of his neck in shy embarrassment and hopes that you’d like it. When you peer around his shoulder you spot a heaping bowl of cereal on the small kitchen table, a bit of milk puddled on the surface and a laugh leaves your lips. Your heart leaps in your chest at just how thoughtful he always is, and you were quite sure your beaming was more than obvious when you turned back to look at him.

“It’s perfect, Ron,” you murmur, hugging around his neck before leaning on your toes and pressing a grateful kiss to his flushed cheek. “I love you.”

He was quick to join you at the table, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug as he yawned sleepily. He looked impossibly cute as he kept close to the steaming mug, basking in the warmth of it as he rests his chin in his palm. His hair dipped in his eyes and no matter how often he swiped it away, it stubbornly fell right back into place to tangle with his lashes. Perhaps the cutest of all was the smile adorning his lips upon looking at you, as if you had been the only thing in the world of importance.

To him, you very much were. To be so cliche he felt you were nothing short of sunshine, always lighting up anything and everything that had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. The moment he used the nickname it just stuck, for it was very true, so how couldn’t he not?

“How was work?” He asks into his mug, a bit of the frothy cream left behind on his upper lip.

“It was as busy as always,” you sigh tiredly, swiping your thumb over his lip with a small laugh. “Malfoy and I had our hands full when a bunch of quidditch players came in.”

He snorts at that, brushing the hair out of his eyes once more. “That bad, huh?”

You nod with a mouthful, stirring your spoon in your bowl as a grin he recognizes all too well works its way onto your lips. “I was relieved when I saw you hadn’t been amongst them, you’ve really got to be more careful when you play, Ron. That one ti—”

His groan effectively cuts you off as he rubs his face. “Darling, that was one time!”

“Draco had to give you eleven stitches, Ronald. You were seething at him the entire time.” You laugh at the memory, at the heat so clearly burning crimson in his cheeks at the time. Though he bit his tongue when he’d seen just how different the blonde had been. “You’re clumsy and you know it, love.”

He grumbled into his drink in disagreement but you hadn’t missed the smile tugging at his lips. You giggle as you shake your head, and he nudged your foot with his under the table in further disapproval.

Conversation had been minimal after that, a comfortable silence falling over you as you ate your breakfast and he drank his coffee. The rain you’d suspected had been trickling down the windows then, the weather making it all the more reason to stay tucked away in each other’s arms for the entirety of the day. Not that you needed a reason to, of course. There were no plans pressing on either of you on your days off, and with work keeping you from spending any quality time together it became a silent agreement that you’d take advantage of the opportunity.

The absence in conversation was filled with fleeting gazes and brushes of fingertips. Crinkling of the morning paper and laughter as he stole a few bites of your cereal. It was filled with longer, more fond stares and rosy cheeks as he tried to bring himself to stop gawking like the lovestruck fool he very well knew he was. It was a title Harry had given him, one that the entirety of his family was in agreement with. He happily accepted it, he was madly in love with you since he was seventeen and he feels it’ll never falter, and he’s more than fine with that very fact.

When you glance over the table at him he’s got a smile on his lips as he looks out the window. You knew he’d been up to something. “What?”

You raise a brow at him and he gets up from the table, pressing a kiss to the top of your head in a wordless response. With a sigh, you watched as he disappeared out of the back patio door with eagerness and determination, and you laughed into your mug as you sipped at the rest of your tea.

You grab your empty bowl and walk over to the sink to rinse it out along with his mug, spotting the chocolate at the very bottom that hadn’t melted into his drink fully. He had the biggest sweet tooth of anyone you’d ever known, and you knew he’d surely fall asleep in your arms by the afternoon.

Moments later he returned with a lopsided grin, the now drizzling rain dampening his hair and beading across his skin. A bunch of freshly picked wildflowers were clutched in his hand, the purple and blue petals dripping with the morning rain. Your cheeks reddened at the action as you dry your hands on a nearby towel, taking the delicate flowers from his own.

“Breakfast and flowers?” You grin, your fingertips brushing over the dampened petals. The warmth filling your chest was one only Ron Weasley could manage, for he’d been the sweetest man you’d ever known. No matter how simple the gestures or gifts were, they meant everything to you all the same. “Have I told you that I love you today?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a teasing smile, his arms enveloping you in an embrace. “You may have mentioned it once, I believe.”

You tipped your head back as you laughed at his jesting, more so when you felt his lips press to the underside of your jaw. He’s very well aware of the way it makes you squirm and he will never hesitate to do so just to hear you laugh. His own giggles vibrate against your skin, his lips meeting yours in the most tender of kisses. The joined laughter settles a fraction as your hand cradles his cheek. The taste of chocolate in his kiss is something you don’t miss, the warmth of his lips setting your skin ablaze with every movement.

“I love you,” you say softly once more in the close proximity, his smile bright as you pull away to look at him.

You pluck a flower from the bunch in your hand, tucking it behind his ear. The soft blue blossom poked out beneath the ruffles of red hair, and you were sure you’d never seen a sight more adorable in your life. He takes them from your hand and sets them down on the counter, spinning back to face you and take your hand in his own.

“Ron Weasley, are we going to slow dance?” You ask, laughing softly as you grin up at him. He simply nods with a fond smile.

He pulls you close as he holds your joined hands up, his forehead resting on yours as you sway about the cozy kitchen. His hair tickled your skin and you teased him for his coffee breath, and he was quick to kiss you all the more at your playful teasing.

After a while you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, your lips ghosting over his skin in a way that caused a heat to flood his cheeks and a giddy smile to grace his lips. The rain was persistent, heavily pattering against the cozy little house you shared as you danced around the kitchen. His hand was warm in your own as he squeezed you softly, basking in the very way you were perfectly content in his arms, content to be with him. You may have stepped on his toes every now and then as you sway, but he couldn’t find it in him to care about such things.

“I love you,” he whispered, his words unwavering as he kissed the top of your head. You bring yourself to lift your head, your noses brushing as you share your moment of bliss in the quiet of your kitchen. His lips press over yours in a whisper of a kiss, “I love you.”

Amidst all the rain in the early morning hours, all Ron would ever need was you. For you were his sunshine.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @lupinsclassroom @harrysweasleys @dracosathenaeum @snitches-at-dawn @awritingtree

#woot1kchallenge #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley fic #ron weasley headcanon #ron weasly imagine

124 notes · View notes

pinky-the-elephant-room · 3 years

Text

Frenzy

Warning: Explicit sex, Somnophilia, DUBCON, and Overstimulation. Mentions of past abuse. Please read with caution if any of these are your triggers.

Summary: It wasn’t her fault. Mirio had forced her hand and by the end of the night he would be hers.

◎◎◎◎◎◎

“Gomen. Can you repeat that last part, Tou-san?”

His father just smiled at him. “I said I think we should adopt Y/N. What do you think, Mirio?”

When the police raided the Shie Hassaikai, Eri quietly warned about another girl who was hidden away. Unlike Eri, though, Y/N was a teenager and, just like Eri, had nowhere to go. So, the Togata family volunteered to house Y/N until CPS found a home for her. But it looks like his father already had something else in mind.

“I think it’s an awesome idea. Y/N has opened up so much around us. I was worried about what would happen if she was adopted by someone else,” Mirio enthused.

Things were finally going his way. Just yesterday, he found out there was a chance of him regaining his quirk if Eri would control her quirk. And now this.

“Great since Y/N’s still skittish around me. Why don’t you bring up the topic with her, and if she agrees, then we can discuss it together?” his father hummed while stirring the curry on the stove. His father looked away for a second to grab chili peppers.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Mirio leaned over to grab the spoon covered with curry and quickly shoved it in his mouth before his father noticed.

“Mirio! That’s for dinner,” Tou-san scolded, grabbing back the now saliva covered spoon.

He quickly escaped the kitchen, using Y/N as an excuse. Mirio hurried to the guestroom where she had been staying since she arrived. It was her room technically more than a guestroom now—the walls covered by cute posters of various Pokémon that Y/N liked. The bed had flattering mauve sheets that Y/N personally picked out, plus various art supplies scattered throughout the room.

Mirio hesitantly on the door as he peeked inside the opened room.

“Y/N? Are you in here?”

The bathroom door opened, and Y/N shyly stepped out. His father had thought being the sole girl in a house full of men, she ought to have privacy and gave her the room with a bathroom attached.

“H-hai. I’m here.”

“Gomen! I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can come back later.”

“Lie, it’s fine, Mirio-kun. Did you need something?” Y/N cautiously asked.

Y/N rarely talked when she first arrived; mostly, it was him carrying a one-sided conversation. But Mirio was used to shy individuals, and it was his specialty to bring down their walls. When she eventually did start responding to his questions, he learned that unlike Tamaki, Y/N wasn’t shy. Just subdued, and she carried a solemn disposition that could quickly turn others off. Thankfully, he wasn’t discouraged and carried on with his conversations like Y/N wasn’t eying the nearest door to escape.

Mirio nervously rubbed his left shoulder.

“Y/N, do you like it here?”

Y/N eyebrows furrowed like she didn’t understand the question.

“You mean the bathroom? Because you can tell Togata-san that It’s fine the way it is.”

He quickly shook his head and waved his hands frantically. “No! not that! I mean, do you like living here with me?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and her face flushed red. She quickly looked away from him.

Mirio, confused with her actions, decided to continue getting to the point.

“Because Tou-san wants to adopt you officially. He wants us to become a real family. What do you think?”

The silence that followed afterward was awkward in every way imaginable. It seemed like Y/N was purposely facing away from him to avoid answering. Though, he remained patient, waiting for her response. In what felt like forever, she eventually did turn around to look him in the eye. Her face looked all washed out, and she looked a bit teary-eyed.

“I-I refuse. I don’t want to be adopted.”

“Are you sure? Because I would love a sister!”

That only seemed to make it worse because Y/N retreated into the bathroom and quickly locked it.

Mirio cautiously knocked on the door. “Y/N, are you ok? Are you mad?”

She didn’t respond. Mirio, a bit annoyed, let out an aggravated sigh.

“Well, I’ll be out here waiting for you until you say something.”

That elicited movement in which he could hear her shuffling around behind the closed door.

“Mirio-kun, please go away. I don’t want to talk right now,” her muffled voice said.

He replied in a small voice, “Oh, well, alright. At least come to dinner. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

When Mirio didn’t hear anything in return, he shuffled back sadly to the kitchen where his father set up the table for dinner.

“Hey, did you ask her?” Tou-san inquired as he set down some chopsticks.

“I did, but I don’t think she liked the idea. Y/N locked herself in the bathroom and refused to come out.”

Tou-san saw Mirio’s wilted face and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe it’s better to wait a while before asking again. Y/N probably has her reasons why she said no. If she decides not to join us, she can have dinner later.”

Eventually, Y/N ended up having dinner in her room and not coming for the rest of the night. It was disheartening, to say the least. He tossed and turned in his bed for hours before Mirio crept out into the hallway and sat on the floor nearby Y/N’s door. When she first arrived, it was hard not to notice the lights still on at 4 AM. Since then, Mirio had always made sure to keep close by in case she needed him. He never found out what haunted Y/N late at night. But he supposed the whys didn’t matter to him, just that he was still someone’s hero even without a quirk. Mostly when that someone was Y/N.

The wooden floor was a bit uncomfortable. Discomforts that Mirio disregarded in favor of sitting there. Then he started hearing whimpering coming from Y/N’s room. It was subtle enough that Mirio thought he imagined it the first couple of times he heard it. Yet, the sounds came again and again to the point he could no longer ignore them. Not wanting to jolt Y/N, which he learned not to do, Mirio carefully pried the door open to peek inside.

The room was completely dark except for the streetlights that lit the room from the open windows. He saw Y/N’s body half-covered with a blanket. The shadows hid her face, and he could now clearly hear Y/N’s stifling gasps. She let out a groan, and the sound sent chills down his spine.

He widened the door’s gap a bit further and saw Y/N’s restless movements.

“Mirio!” Y/N let out, and the covers fell away to show her hands inside her pajama shorts.

Her chest was heaving, and her right hand’s frantic yet rhythmic motions continued. Mirio knew precisely what she was doing. It was hard not to when he was a teenage boy. It seemed that Y/N remained unsatisfied because soon enough, she tugged her shorts off and tossed them near his vicinity.

Mirio gulped, seeing the flimsy cotton garments. His eyes immediately fixated on Y/N once again when she let out a keening moan.

“Please. Please,” Y/N’s legs widened to allow for a better angle. It seemed to have worked in her favor judging by the way she enthusiastically responded. He could hardly see anything except for her creamy legs and the occasional glimpse of her hand. He couldn’t see where her left hand was either since her right hand occupied her pussy. But judging from the distance, it seemed her other hand was on her breast.

All too soon, the show was over before it even began. Y/N’s body arched, gripped by an unknown pleasure, and she started chanting his name.

Mirio bit down on his own fist from making any startling noise. It all happened so fast that he felt almost like he imagined it. Because as soon as she came, Y/N collapsed and retrieved the blankets she kicked off in her hurry. She was once again making herself comfortable enough to go back to sleep. He waited for several minutes, making sure she wouldn’t move again before carefully shutting her door and hurrying back to his room. In times like these, Mirio sorely missed his quirk because it would have come in handy.

He could only blame Y/N for the way he jackhammered pumped his cock. His cum splattered all over his stomach, leaving his member feeling raw and exhausted by how hard he managed to come.

One thing for sure Y/N touching herself while saying his name was something he wouldn’t be able to forget even if he wanted to.

◎◎◎◎◎◎

He watched her eat with such an intensity that Mirio didn’t even notice the strange looks he was getting from his father. He really should be less obvious, but it was like Y/N was everywhere ever since that night. He noticed things that he never noticed before. Her nose with peppered tiny black moles or how she had a giant sweet tooth. So much so it was rare to find Y/N’s mouth unoccupied without a piece of candy.

“Mirio, are you feeling ok? You haven’t touched your food at all,” Tou-san voiced.

Y/N looked up from her plate to shoot a concerned glance his way.

He could feel his cheeks heating up when they made eye contact and feeling embarrassed, he quickly cleared his throat.

“I-I’m fine. Just not hungry.”

Well, that wasn’t true. In fact, Mirio was quite famished. But he could hardly think about food when Y/N was sitting right in front of him like she hadn’t just fingered herself while thinking of him just a few days ago. He had so many questions. Like, what did she think about specifically? When did this all start? And more importantly, what did it all mean? Mirio wasn't stupid; Y/N made her interest evident last night. But how far did it go? Was it just a means of relieving stress? Or did she like him? And if she did, what does that mean for him?

“Thank you for the meal,” Y/N murmured as she grabbed her plate and left to rinse it in the kitchen.

Mirio looked down to his see his still untouched lunch and sighed.

It would make things awkward in the house if she liked him, and he didn’t feel the same. If that was the case, he could ignore everything and pretend none of it happened. Thereby preserving their friendship. But at least he knew why Y/N was so obstinate against the adoption. It would be weird knowing you’re attracted to your newly adopted brother.

He pushed his plate away and stood up. “I think I’m done. I can’t eat another bite.”

Mirio could scarcely hear his father playfully reply as he walked away, “I’m sure you’re full after only two bites, son!”

Moreover, it was clear Y/N had a rough life living amongst the Yakuza. Still, she was so brave, trying so hard to assimilate amongst his family. There were times when he could tell Y/N was uncomfortable or there was a dark cloud hanging over her some days; even then, she was doing her best. It made her incredibly likable in his eyes, and that’s why she was so special to him.

“Y/N! Wait up, I have a question,” he hollered after her.

She did as Mirio requested, and a small smile blossomed on her face at the sight of him. He could feel his heartbeat increase, which definitely wasn’t from the short jog.

He was never someone to beat around the bush, so he immediately questioned her.

“Y/N, do you l-lik”

Well, at least he tried to, but as Mirio studied Y/N’s face, all he could hear was her throaty voice saying his name repeatedly.

She waved her hand in front of his face.

“Mirio-kun, you were about to ask me something.”

“OH, rightttt. Well, I forgot my question, so I’m just going to leave. Bye now!” he nervously chuckled before trying to dart into the nearby plaster wall. Only for him to forget he no longer had his quirk.

“Ow!” Mirio groaned and rubbed his sore forehead.

Y/N immediately went to check on him. “Here, let me see.”

Seeing her face so close made him feel incredibly tense. Goosebumps rose across his skin when she parted his blond hair to see the red bump.

“It’s not too bad. Make sure you ice it.”

In response, he clutched her hand tightly and said, “Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it.”

As he left to do just that, he didn’t need to turn back to know that Y/N’s face was just as flushed as his.

Mirio, unfortunately, didn’t hear the words that Y/N murmured as he departed.

“Hey, wait. You never asked your question,” she said under her breath before disappointedly going back to her room.

◎◎◎◎◎◎

She didn’t think it was possible to like someone so much. Not after what she had been through. Not after what the last man she trusted did to her. But it was impossible to ignore Mirio. He was like an overwhelming, scorching sun that no one was able to avoid. At first, she wanted nothing to do with him. Yet, he remained firm until she had no choice but to return his affections. Now? Now she wanted him in every way imaginable. No. She needed him. Someone like her didn’t deserve him. Mirio warranted a kind and loving person just like him. Not a woman who was so toxic that she sucked everyone in like a black hole by her bitterness.

Y/N’s desire for him grew uncontrollable day by day. Each night she ended it with his name on her lips. Sometimes when she laid in her bed in the aftermath, she wished he would overhear her. Because Y/N knew he would wait out his nights outside of her room. So, she hoped he would hear and eventually join her. But of course, it was just wishful thinking.

The last few days, though, Mirio was acting weird ever since he asked about adoption. She hoped that he would return to normal if she pretended everything was fine. However, that didn’t come to pass. Now he has forced her hand. Y/N didn’t want to do this. She was hoping to avoid this exact thing. She also didn’t want to become his sister of all things, so desperate times called for desperate measures. By tonight Mirio would know precisely how she felt for him.

Y/N was used to late nights plagued by nightmares. This time though, she waited until she heard the footsteps of Togata-san, and finally, Mirio’s lighter footsteps creeping up the stairwell. She gave it a few more hours for everyone to fall asleep before carefully peeling away her covers and making her way out of the room. She never ventured farther than her room because she wasn’t comfortable enough to intrude on other people’s space. Yet, Y/N knew by heart that Mirio’s room was the second one on the right. So, she crept slowly and let herself into his darkened room. It took a couple of minutes for her eyes to adjust, but eventually, she could make out Mirio sleeping on his bed. She inched herself on the bed, cringing when the springs squeaked from her weight. Y/N peeked a glance at Mirio, who seemed to be unaffected, and she sighed in relief.

Adjusting herself carefully, she removed the blanket from his person. Though he was clearly in a deep slumber, she should have known to expect the bulge in his pajamas. Whenever he conversed with her, she tried hard not to notice the impressive swell in his jeans many times before. But it was hard not to when judging by just the outline of how awe-inspiring it would be in person. Finally, Y/N's curiosity would be laid to rest. She slid down his pajama pants, making sure not to jolt Mirio.

In her honest opinion, penises were weird as hell. Because she only had prior experience with one guy, she assumed they all looked the same. Looking at Mirio’s, though, she couldn’t help but find it cute. It was thicker like she suspected but shorter when flaccid. It was companied by small, trimmed tuffs of blond hair. Not wanting to waste time, Y/N immediately licked the tip and engulfed as much as she could in her mouth, and sucked. All the while keeping an eye on Mirio who’s eyebrow furrowed at the contact before relaxing once again. It took everything within her not to let her eyes roll back and moan at the taste of him. There was a certain tanginess to his pre-cum, reminding her of a bit of pineapple, and she loved pineapples. The flavor just served to encourage her, and she continued to suck, hollowing her cheeks. Unfortunately, as much as she was enjoying herself with his cock in her mouth. She didn’t come in here to give him an impromptu blowjob.

It took a bit of maneuvering on her part, but she managed to remove the shorts she usually wore to bed as well as shimmying out of the panties she had on. Just the sheer anticipation of what she was about to do made her cunt glisten with wetness, and so she didn’t hesitate in taking his erect member and inserting in one go.

Y/N choked with emotions when she felt Mirio fill her to the brim. God, he felt perfect. No, he was perfect. She took a minute to gather her composure and tried to calm her harsh breathing despite being overwhelmed. While she wanted to put her hands and balance on his shoulders, Y/N didn’t think she could handle that without waking him up. So, instead, she opted to place her hands on the bed and started to rock. Slow and steady as she attempted not to create too much bounce for the bed springs to react. Then when Y/N was confident enough, she twisted her hips to move them in circular motions just the way she liked it.

She took a minute to thank Kami-sama; she wasn’t a virgin because if she were, the tight fit would have been unquestionably painful. His thick cock rubbed against her vaginal walls creating the most delicious friction, causing her mouth to unknowingly water. She swallowed back the saliva, lest she started drooling and made a mess of herself.

She pulled back a bit, causing the thick head of his cock to slip out of her before grabbing it to reenter. Y/N tried to bite down on her lip to contain any noises, but she couldn’t help whimpers and gasps as the head penetrated the sensitive opening once more.

The movement and noises caused Mirio to stir and mumble incoherently. She waited anxiously for his blue eyes to open and gaze upon her accusingly. He only drifted back to sleep a few seconds later. So, she continued her slow and hypnotizing rhythm. It made her want to cry out of pure frustration. Hoping she wasn’t risking too much. Y/N backed up and then slammed herself on his cock. Despite the tingling sensation, she again waited for Mirio’s reaction. Who seemed to moan in his sleep before settling down once more. So, she attempted to bounce several times, each waiting in increments to see if he would react. Feeling satisfied that he was a deep sleeper, she vigorously started working up and down Mirio’s cock. Throwing all caution to the wind, the bed started squealing, and her moans became unrestrained.

Y/N knew that when she had come up with her little plan, it would involve Mirio eventually waking up. There was no way she was going to be able to continue without him noticing. But even she was caught off guard when he suddenly awoke with a gasp as Y/N shoved herself back on his member.

Mirio seemed taken back to see her.

“Y/N? W-what are you doing?” he hoarsely asked.

She bit her lip, watching him cautiously to see what he would do. But Mirio just kept staring; his eyes widened like he couldn’t believe she was there on top of him.

So, taking a chance, Y/N leisurely started riding him and clutching his taut bicep.

“M-mirio.” she gasped.

Wildly he gaped at her face before watching riveted at the junction where his member disappeared inside her cunt.

“You see that baby? I’m fucking you,” she choked out as her walls fluttered around his cock.

His heated gaze made her feel shivers throughout her body.

“And I’m going to continue to fuck you until you come inside of me.”

Knowing his undivided attention wasn’t about to go anywhere, Y/N reached down to her t-shirt and tugged it off her. She made sure not to wear a bra before coming to his room. Her pebbled peaks stood at attention, and she eagerly placed Mirio’s hands on her chest.

Y/N felt him swipe his thumbs over her nipples and squeeze generously. Emboldened, Y/N increased her pace, and that really set him off. His groans seemed to echo along with the noisy mattress.

And when she purposely squeezed her muscles around him, he howled her name with ecstasy.

“Like that, huh? Every night I thought of you like this. And now you’re all mine.”

She leaned over and captured his lips. Even when she felt him tremble and frantically thrust back, Y/N held his face steady, kissing him lovingly. And when he finally lost control and bucked into her warm cunt. He painted her insides white, and she could feel the warmness emanating from his cum. Long ago, this feeling disgusted her, but with Mirio, it felt right. She felt elated, knowing that a piece of him was inside of her.

He slumped on the bed, breathing harshly like he just ran a marathon. Sadly, for Mirio, Y/N still hadn’t managed to get herself off, which meant it wasn’t over yet.

He eyed her blearily as she once again rose and let out a guttural groan as she went in deep.

“Y/N, please stop. I can’t. It’s too much,” he urged.

Y/N ignored his pleas to chase her own pleasure instead. Mirio could only watch helplessly as she rode his overstimulated cock. He feasted on the sight of Y/N parting her vaginal lips and trace slow circles on the clit.

Everything was just right, his eyes on her just like she deserved, her clit properly stimulated, and his cock that felt divine. Her orgasms, when she indulged herself, were build up like a crescendo, slow and steady with a significant impact. But this time, it hit her like a freight train. Her eyes watered from the sheer strength of it and her body bucked, unable to help its contortions. Y/N collapsed on top of Mirio and clutched him like a life preserver. It took several minutes for the aftershocks to completely stop as she was still grinding against him to prolong her orgasm. But she finally managed to look up from her exhaustion; there was a film of sweat surrounding both of their body. It stuck to his skin and made Mirio seem like he was glowing.

The two stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Knowing that no words could explain her actions, Y/N kissed his lips once. And several times more when he didn’t pull or push her away. They kissed leisurely, and Mirio pulled her body close.

“Mirio I-… I,” Y/N whispered. “I love you. I love you so much I can barely breathe sometimes.”

Mirio only tightened his grip on her and soothed Y/N as she drifted to sleep.

The last thing she felt was Mirio kissing her forehead and whispering something that suspiciously sounded like, “well, I guess that answers my question.”

#mirio x reader #mirio x you #mirio x y/n #bnha prompts #bnha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #mha headcanons #mha prompts #togata mirio x reader #bnha mirio #mirio togata #mha togata #togata mirio

130 notes · View notes

whatissleepeven · 4 years

Note

Hey heyyy!~ I hope you're having a good day, Legend! May I request the brothers reacting to MC making a whole meal at like 3am because they slept through dinner and got real hungry,,, Please remember to take good care of yourself!

This ask made me go the humor route with the hcs I'm sorry -

And thank you, I will!! I hope you're doing the same, Dean!

-------------------------------------------------

Obey Me demon brothers reacting to MC making a whole-ass meal at 3am

Lucifer

Lucifer.exe has stopped working

First you skip dinner, and now you're eating at unholy hours of the morning??

On a school day???

11/10 disappointed and a little angry

"And just what do you think you're making at..." *checks his watch because he will not be caught looking anything but prim and proper* "...three in the morning?"

You stop stirring the pot, looking at him as if you were dead inside. Which, at three a.m., you were. "Mac n' cheese. There's chicken in the oven." You state bluntly. "You want any?"

Lucifer's a bit taken aback at your lack of formality with him, but he finds it...strangely endearing. With a sigh that pierced his very soul, he leaned against the counter next to you.

There's a twitch of his lips, as if he's trying hard to not smile. "I'll have to decline this time."

You drained the pot of noodles into the strainer, giving it a good few shakes as you eyed the oven. "So, next time then?"

He frowned, crossing his arms as he glared. "There won't be a next time, now will there?"

You gulped. You forgot exactly who you were talking to due to your stomach currently dying of agony, but his tone quickly reminded you. "Y-Yeah, there won't be! Promise!"

You were going to break that promise and he knew it. Opting to ignore it for now, he glanced at the oven as the aroma of chicken began to fill the kitchen. "Where did you even find a chicken, anyways?"

"I went to Hell's Kitchen with Beel to find out if they had human food. Asked them where they got it from, and how." You shrugged. "Process of deduction."

"I see..." Is all that he said, watching you flit around the kitchen to make yourself a plate. You cut the chicken, happily adding it to your pile of mac n' cheese.

"Beel, it's ready!" You call out, startling him a bit. He pinches his brow as the sound of footsteps rapidly approached the kitchen, a starry-eyed Beel making his own plate.

He really should've expected this.

"Please don't make this a habit, you two."

He'll let it slide for now, and punish you later on in the day. How could he tell you off when you looked so happy eating a human meal with one of his brothers?

Mammon

All he wanted was to grab a Devil Dew from the fridge. Seriously, that's it.

It was dark, so he flicked on the light switch and shrieked yelled once he saw you casually eating big ziti at the counter.

He has questions, but more importantly...

"What the devil are ya doing, eatin' in the dark?!"

You narrowed your eyes at him, jabbing your fork in his direction.

"Either turn off the light or grab some ziti. I made extra."

Well, it...did look good. It must've been human food from the package you had shipped to the House earlier.

“...Alright, human, but just this once!”

It does not become “just this once”

He took a seat next to you, piling some ziti onto his plate and taking a bite. To be honest, he had peeked into your room to see if you were still asleep and panicked once he saw no one inside, so he spent a solid five minutes running through the entire House to catch even a glimpse of you.

The frantic energy burnt made him thirsty, so he decided to take a break and come to the kitchen and holy shit this is actually really good -

“...Oi. What’s this made out of?”

- And that’s how he discovered his crippling addiction to cheese.

Seriously he’ll ask you if you’re making ziti whenever it’s your turn to cook

“Sorry if I startled you too bad.” You laughed quietly, watching as he scooped more onto his plate with an awed look in his eyes. “You like the ziti?”

A fork was shoved in your face, close to touching your nose. “The Great Mammon doesn’t get startled, ya hear? A-And yeah...this isn’t half-bad.”

Not gonna lie, you were a bit surprised when he actually sat down to eat ziti with you, but in the words of Beel: “Food always tastes better when you’re eating with friends.”

Even though he has the fattest crush on you but we don’t talk about that here

In the end, you smiled softly at him. “Then let’s do this again sometime.”

“Oh HELL YEAH!!” He cheered, and you knew that you couldn’t ever say no to him.

Especially not with what he added afterwards in a quieter voice.

“Just...make sure to eat dinner with all of us too, got it?”

Leviathan

“Is this like that one episode of Demfeed: Unsolved where they tried to put aggro on the spirits by eating their favorite dish at 3 in the morning?!”

You...hated that you knew what he was talking about. The two of you would watch that show whenever you were finished with an anime binge, and you were usually laughing at your own commentary (and theirs) than paying actual attention to the process of catching a ghost. Instead, you just slowly brought the spoon to your lips and slurped up some more cereal.

“...If I tell you yes, then will you turn off the light?”

You swear that you have never seen this shut-in otaku move that fast in your life. In one swift motion he flicked the light switch off, grabbing a turquoise bowl and pouring his own cereal.

He took a seat next to you, stars in his eyes as he began to eat.

“Let’s summon them together!”

And who were you to say no? You were glad that he didn’t bring up the fact that you basically skipped dinner, content to have this quiet time with you in the present.

You lightly shoved his shoulder with a snort. “Let’s hope that we don’t end up accidentally summoning Lucifer instead.”

“Who will be summoning me, exactly?”

You and Levi freeze. Slowly, you both turn to see the eldest brother standing in one of the doorways with his arms crossed and a murderous look on his face.

The tight smile he gave could bury you both six feet under. “It’s good to see you up and about after skipping dinner. Are you making up for lost time?”

Levi nudged you. You side-eyed him.

Without warning you threw your spoon to the ground and yelled.

“SCATTER!!”

And just like Ratatouille, you both bolted out of the kitchen with an angry Lucifer on your heels. You and Levi didn’t get caught, but the next morning you two had to sit and listen to one of Lucifer’s lectures at the dining table.

- You ended up missing breakfast.

(All it takes is the whisper of that one blessed word, and the two of you would devolve into a fit of laughter. Levi still joins you for your “Cursed Meal Runs”, as he dubbed it.)

Satan

He had seen the light on in the kitchen and wondered just who, exactly, would be up at this time??

Especially on a school night day???

(Actually he assumed it was Beel, but it didn’t hurt to go and check it out just in case it was an intruder, now did it?)

“What is- Oh. I see.”

(As you can tell, he immediately gets what’s going on the minute he spots you eating pizza like it’s the end of the world.)

There’s an amused smile on his face as he sits down across from you. “You’ve finally decided to eat something?”

You swallow the food in your mouth, glancing between him and the takeout box you had delivered from Hell’s Kitchen. “I can’t help it that Belphie wanted a sleepover in the middle of the afternoon! ...Okay, I can help it a little, but still; whenever we sleep, I’m dead to the world for the rest of the day.”

He hums in agreement, knowing the power of his brother’s endless soft blankets and squishy but just right pillows. “Instead of making something yourself, you chose to order pizza?”

You put another slice onto your plate, and was- yep, half the box is already gone. You must’ve been really hungry, he thought. “I just had a craving for it and it hits different at night- hey, stop laughing!”

He couldn’t help it. You were just full of surprises, weren’t you? But that’s what made you endearing to him.

He covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise, eyes softening into something more intimate once they fell on your face again. “Forgive me, you just caught me by surprise. Do you mind if I take a slice? Thank you. Since we’re here, I wanted to talk to you about the show you recommended to me... Fringe, was it? I watched the first episode, and let me say...”

Your late-night (early morning) rendezvous ended up feeling like a date. Then again, anything you do with Satan ends up feeling like a date.

(He also lightly scolded you for missing out on dinner with them because it wasn’t a healthy habit to get into, but he hinted at wanting to do this again sometime with you. Overall, he wasn’t actually mad at you.)

...

(Though, the pizza was delicious. Was it because you were with him? You two would have to order it again sometime soon to “test his theory”.)

Asmodeus

Let me be honest, this man is big on his beauty sleep.

Also, he sleeps like the dead.

However, there was one night where he just...could not sleep.

So he went to go rinse some water into his face in hopes of getting out of this stupor when he heard a rustle from the kitchen.

“...-za! Pasta! Put it in a booooooox!!”

...Was that supposed to be singing??

He peeked his head into the kitchen to see you stirring a pot, quietly singing some horrendous song that you no doubt had shown Levi.

“What in the world are you cooking to make you sing like that?”

Asmo’s voice made you jump a little. With a smile you beckoned him over, only after making him promise to be quiet so that you both didn’t incur Lucifer’s wrath.

“I’m making pasta from Mammon’s frozen Hellsauce Noodles. Uh...don’t tell him.”

Look me in the eyes and tell me this man isn’t a prankster. He literally tried to get you to snap a picture of Lucifer sleeping.

He gave you a wide smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, don’t worry; I won’t tell a soul...as long as I can have some, of course!”

- Well. This is rare. Asmo almost never has food at a cursed hour like this, much less spicy food. You nod your head over at an empty seat, telling him to just take your plate.

Once it’s done, you both take a minute to chat as it cools down.

“-nd then he threatened to switch my nail polish out for paint. Actual paint!”

...Isn’t nail polish just paint for your nails? But you kept that thought to yourself, letting the disgruntled demon gripe about a certain shady sorcerer.

Having a late-night meal with Asmo was fun and pretty chill, considering that he didn’t attempt to make one R-Rated joke while you ate. It must’ve been because he was tired, but you were leaning more towards the fact that this must be what Asmo was like when he let his guard down.

It was...nice.

“...Thanks for this, Asmo.”

Asmo smiled like he knew what you meant, but then again...maybe he did.

“Of course, love! Oh, but don’t skip out on dinner again you hear? It’s bad for your health to miss a meal.”

Beelzebub

Hungry boi already knows that you’re making a meal before even you know you’re making a meal

You were getting the pots and pans out to make a feast for yourself when you turned around and nearly screamed. Beel was peeking around the corner, staring at you with intent as his stomach rumbled.

“...What are you making?”

Once you calm yourself, you smile and beckon him over. “I planned on making a big breakfast. I may have missed dinner, but this is one meal I wouldn’t miss for the world!”

You didn’t tell him it was because it reminded you of home, with your loved ones (be it friends or family or, even, just you and your pets). You set to work whipping up some French Toast and bacon, having on numerous occasions to lightly swat Beel’s hands away from the food.

He does end up helping you, though. He tries his best, but he sneaks a sausage from the plate when you aren’t looking.

He thinks he’s being sneaky.

(You know. You still let him do it.)

“Beel, can you pull the biscuits out of the oven?”

“Sure.”

It’s a comfortable silence as you two put together a breakfast feast fit for kings. You ended up making more than you initially were due to Beel’s appetite, but seeing the awestruck look (which was accompanied by a wide smile) on his face as he took a bite of French Toast was worth the extra work.

“I take it you like it?”

He gives you a puppy-eyed look. “...Can we have this later today?”

And, really, could you ever say no to Beel when he asks so sweetly?

You laugh as you take a bite out of your biscuit, eyeing the oven because the last thing you had put in were the cinnamon rolls. “Of course. We should still have enough to do this one more time.”

He beams, going to town on the rest of the food. The whole scene is so domestic that you almost miss his next words.

“Just...don’t skip dinner again. It’s just as important as breakfast, and I like seeing you eat with us.”

- And just like that, you promise him to not skip dinner again if you can help it. The two of you do continue to make small meals at unholy hours of the morning, though, much to the ire of Lucifer.

(Also, whenever Beel is making his midnight runs to the fridge, he now drags you along to see if you’d make something. Whenever you do, he’s overjoyed and giving you all the hugs for your hard work.)

Belphegor

...Listen

Listen -

Homeboi sleeps most of the day away. He’s probably the reason you missed dinner in the first place.

“...I should’ve expected this, really.”

You whirl on him, your dominant hand not once stopping in its stirring. Even though it was early in the morning (not even Levi was up), you had a bright look in your eyes.

Your stomach rumbled loud enough for both of you to hear. Belphie raised an eyebrow, the edges of his lips curling into an amused smile.

You coughed awkwardly. “Listen, do you want chicken noodle soup or not?”

He doesn’t eat, but he does watch you bustle around the kitchen with a soft look in his eyes. Something about the whole scene was comforting, and for once he didn’t feel like falling asleep.

“Soup soup soup soup soup soup soup...!” You chanted quietly, bouncing from foot to foot as if it’d prepare the food faster. He chuckled at your enthusiasm, resting his head on his beloved cow-printed pillow as he stared.

“It’s done!!” You whisper-shout, all but slamming the bowl down as you took a seat next to him.

Belphie glanced over at you in amusement. “Is this going to become a common thing with you?” He questioned, keeping a straight face even as you scowled at him.

“You know the exact reason why I’m here in the first place. Just so you know I’m starving, Sleeping Beauty, so please excuse me as I down this piping hot soup like it’s the end of the world.”

That actually forced a snort out of him, shifting to instead lean his head on your shoulder. “C’mon, you don’t mean that. Why don’t you come sleep with me? It’s too early to be eating, anyways.”

You poke his side with your free hand. “Watch it, mister. Again, why do you think I’m here in the first place?”

He said nothing after that, closing his eyes with a small smile. Even though it was early, he wasn’t particularly annoyed; if anything, he felt...at peace.

He didn’t condone you for missing dinner, especially if it meant that he’d get more tranquil moments like this.

For now, though...let this peace last just a bit longer.

404 notes · View notes

smutkuna · 3 years

Text

Paralyzed in Lust | Sukuna x F-Reader

Part 1

Urban legends always seemed to intrigue you, but that’s all they were. Just legends. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that practicing those rituals never ended well. Your college friends seemed to have the opposite idea, however.

They loved to go to abandoned areas and attempt some of the rituals posted online. Safely, of course, but how safe is it? They talked about salt circles, protection wards, sigils, and protection amulets or crystals but is that enough?

They would mention that attempting to summon a demon is dangerous, but here they are in your studio apartment, talking about calling forth a demon from an urban legend that seemed to pop out of nowhere.

The urban legend about Ryomen Sukuna, a four-armed demon that no one could seem to invite. You didn’t understand why anyone would want to summon a demon, but you guess curiosity killed that cat.

You sat on your twin-sized bed lined up against the wall while your friends sat on a two-seater bench situated in front of your bed, underneath the long window. Your studio apartment held all the essentials for a financially struggling college student.

Entering the apartment, you would be met with a small hallway. On your immediate left is the door to the bathroom, while on your immediate right is a small storage space. Farther in, you’re met with the small space for your bed on the left with a walk-in closet that shares the wall with the bathroom.

Facing the entrance is the bench underneath a horizontal window with a view of the busy street, covered by some window shutters to give you some privacy. These shutters were currently open, letting in the remaining light from the sunset, but were slightly blocked by your friends.

To the right of the hallway entrance behind the storage, is your kitchen. It had enough space to fit a bit of counter space, fridge, sink, and dishwasher. Adjacent to your kitchen, across your bed, and near the bench was an L-shaped divider hiding a portable washer and dryer.

“[Y/n]!” your friend, Nobara, exclaimed. “Will you finally join us for this ritual? I know you’re not really into these things, but it’s safe, I swear. We even have our protection spells and everything.”

You hummed in apprehension. “I’m not sure I’m ready to do those yet.”

Megumi, your other friend, nodded his head. “Okay, but just let us know whenever you want to join us or if you end up doing it on your own...” he grabbed some of Nobara’s amulets and his salt bags. “Here, I’ll lend some to you in case you change your mind.”

He placed the items in your bag.

“Thank you. When are you both planning on doing the ritual?” you asked them.

“Ah, maybe tonight? We have nothing else planned, and we’ve been itching to try this ritual out ever since we saw it on a forum.” Nobara replied. She pulled out her phone and scrolled for a while before handing it to you. “Everyone’s been talking about it, but no one’s been able to pull it off.”

Megumi then spoke. “Yeah and no one’s sure about where this urban legend came from anyway so we don’t know if it’s real or not. That’s why we want to see for ourselves.”

You took a peek at Nobara’s phone and read parts of the forum out loud.

“Ryomen Sukuna... Four-armed demon… To begin the ritual, cut the pads of all your fingers until blood oozes out. Bro what?” You looked at your friends in confusion. They simply shrugged and told you to continue reading.

“Soak your bloody fingers in a large bowl of water until the water is stained dark red. Remove your hands from the bowl and do this hand sign by connecting your thumb, middle, and ring finger pads while your index and pinky fingers are bent towards your palms. What in the summoning-jutsu is this?”

You attempted the hand signs after you had placed her phone on your bed. Megumi lightly laughed and showed you how to do it properly.

“Girl, you watch too much Naruto.” Nobara snickered.

You rolled your eyes and smirked. “I’m not the only one simping over Kakashi and Itachi. You’re just as guilty.”

“Here [y/n], continue reading the rules.’ Megumi said, handing you the phone.

“Say ‘Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine’ after performing the hand sign and dunk your face into the bowl of water and blood. After this, Sukuna will appear. To properly end the ritual, thank him for his time and say ‘Cleave.’ This is critical. Failure to do so will leave you with cursed energy around you. **For extra protection, perform an exorcism.”

You sighed after reading the rules of the forum. It seemed easy enough but you weren’t sure whether it was worth the risk to have cursed energy if it failed and did you need to perform an exorcism?? Wasn’t that a bit too much? Plus, you wanted all the luck you could get since you just applied for an internship for the fall quarter.

“Well, if you both decide to do this, please be safe,” you told your friends.

Nobara smiled and grabbed her small backpack. “Don’t worry, we’ll text you what happens. We were thinking of recording it anyway, so we’ll send that to you later tonight after we try it.”

She hugged you and started walking to the door followed by Megumi.

“You can keep the rest of the pizza. It’s not easy for me to digest,” he said, as he double-checked to make sure you had the amulets and salt bags. You smiled at him, eyes showing appreciation because you had very little food left in your fridge.

“Thank you, Megumi. Good night, you two. I’ll see you both tomorrow after work.” you said, waving to them as they left your apartment complex. Once they were out of your sight, you closed and locked your entrance door.

You grabbed your laptop and made your way toward the kitchen, putting it on top of the small counter space you had. You sighed as you put away the leftover pizza in the fridge. Being an avid horror fan, you enjoyed the paranormal, but partaking in anything of the sort in real life made you nervous.

The urban legend of Sukuna intrigued you, even if the ritual was slightly strange. Wouldn’t you faint from losing so much blood? Plus, who the fuck is Sukuna anyway? What made him so special for people to want to do this sort of thing?

Facepalming, you opened a web browser on your laptop and did a simple search. Who is Ryomen Sukuna?

You scrolled through countless forums, talking about the ritual and how it didn’t work. No one seemed to be able to conjure Ryomen Sukuna. The problem was that no one knew who he was. Only that he was a strong demonic entity that holds a lot of cursed energy and has two faces and two sets of arms.

Two sets, huh? What, does he have two dicks too? You laughed to yourself, but then rolled your eyes and groaned. You needed to get laid.

Further throughout your research, you decided to take a break and looked over to the clock on the wall above your washer and dryer. It was 11:56 PM, indicating that your friends left three hours ago.

You took a glance at your phone that was charging next to your laptop and noticed that Megumi and Nobara had sent an attachment to your group chat. Unplugging your phone from the charger, you unlocked it and strode over to the bathroom.

Your group chat read:

“Hey [y/n], we finished the ritual but nothing happened. Bummer, I was looking forward to summoning one of the most difficult demons to conjure up.” Nobara sent at midnight.

“Oi, here’s the video,” Megumi replied, with a black screen video attached after his message.

Oh wow, they actually recorded it. You thought, adding some toothpaste to your toothbrush. You pressed on the video and let it play while you brushed your teeth.

You watched as both your friends performed the finger-bleeding step and you couldn’t help but gag a little. That’s a shit ton of blood. It took a while considering each of their fingers had a small cut, and the bowls were large. After a couple of minutes, Megumi and Nobara removed their hands from the bowl and performed the hand sign.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.” You heard them chant once and then watched them dunk their head into the bloody water as you spit out your toothpaste and rinse your mouth.

Standing in front of the mirror and sink, you stared at the video, watching your friends and waiting for something to happen.

In the video, you saw Nobara and Megumi look at each other and shrug. You fast-forwarded the video a bit, looking for any sign that the ritual worked but the video ended with them thanking Sukuna and saying “Cleave” before anything appeared.

Exiting out of the video, you sent a response to the group chat.

“I’m sorry nothing happened, guys. I know you were excited for something to happen.”

“It’ll make us feel better if you tried it yourself hehe” Nobara replied with a smirk emoji.

You stared at her message for a while, contemplating what you should do. Preparing for your night routine, you stripped and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run down your back, massaging your aching muscles.

You had a long day at work, and now you were stuck on whether you should do this ritual or not. Nothing has been happening to anyone anyway, so most likely nothing will happen to you. This ritual was probably a hoax, just a trend since people were bored. Right?

Please conscience, what do I do? AH FUCK IT.

After you had finished your shower, you hastily applied your lotions and pajamas which consisted of a tank top and lace underwear. You grabbed your phone from the bathroom and reread the forum on what to do, sending another reply to Nobara saying that you’ll do the ritual.

You grabbed the essential items you needed: salt, amulet, a large basin of water, and a pocket knife. You released a large breath you seemed to be holding and read the text you just received from the group chat.

“AYE, that’s my girl!!” Nobara sent with a grinning gif.

“Be safe [y/n]. Text us if anything happens and don’t forget to use the salt and amulets.” Megumi responded.

“I’ll record myself and send it to both of you once I finish”

You balanced your phone on the foot of your bed, pressed record, and placed the ritual items on the floor beside you, grabbing the amulet first and placing the tie around your neck.

Please protect me. You thought as you gripped the amulet and placed some salt in a circle, trapping yourself within it.

You steadied your breathing and positioned the bowl in front of you.

All right. Let’s get this over with.

Slicing the pads of your fingertips with the pocket knife, you held your fingers over the large basin, watching the blood drip into the water.

God, I should’ve played some music in the background. The silence is killing me. I swear to God if that fucking Tip Toe Through the Meadow song from Insidious plays on a radio, I’m going to burn this building down.

The water rippled as each blood drop collided with it. Your nerves were on high alert, but you were too scared to glance around your room. What if there was a shadow at your doorway or a ghost in the mirror? WHAT IF it was right behind you?!

You cried internally and tried to rid your thoughts of anything horrific. After what seemed to be forever, waiting in agony, the bowl was painted crimson. You released another breath and tried to remember the next step of the ritual.

Ah right, the jutsu sign.

You formed the hand sign and said out loud, “DOMAIN EXPANSION: MALEVOLENT SHRINE.”

Cringing, you dipped your head into the bowl and stayed there until you needed a gulp of air.

This is disgusting, why am I doing this again?

Your face was tinted with blood and you carefully looked around your room without the blood dripping onto your laminated floors. Your hearing was heightened due to the lack of light in the room, but you heard nothing. You felt nothing.

It probably didn’t work. Thank you, God. I can live to see another day.

“Ryomen Sukuna, if you’re there, thank you for your time. Let’s not do this again, please and thank youuu.” you sang. “CLEAVE.”

You grabbed your phone from the footrest of your bed, ended the recording, and texted the group chat.

“I just finished. Nothing happened to me either. I guess it is just a hoax.”

“Damn. What if we did something wrong? Let’s try it again.” Nobara said.

“My face has my blood dripping from it, no thank you.”

“You said ‘Cleave,’ right [y/n]?” Megumi questioned.

“Yup. I’m gonna go clean up and try to sleep. I’ll see you both tomorrow. Good night!”

Bidding each other good night, you swept the salt circle and drained the bloody water into the bathroom sink. You rinsed your face of any remnants of the ritual and reapplied your moisturizer.

Plopping onto your bed and hiding under the covers, you glanced once more at the clock. It read 2 AM.

Damn, I have class in 6 hours. Note to self: stop registering for 8 AM classes in case you decide to do rituals late into the night.

You closed your eyes and attempted to sleep, but you couldn’t stop tossing and turning. Something didn’t feel right. You felt suffocated like something was watching you. You were too scared to open your eyes and hid further into your covers.

Sure, [y/n]. They’ll never know I’m under here.

You kept tossing and turning for thirty minutes because you just couldn’t find that comfortable spot. Suddenly, you felt a sensation on your limbs.

What the fuck?

You froze. You felt like each of your limbs were grabbed by one… two… FOUR HANDS?! You didn’t want to believe it. You couldn’t believe it. No fucking way the ritual worked. Counting to three, you screamed and punched into the air.

Nothing was there. No one was there. You were alone.

Part 2: https://smutkuna.tumblr.com/post/655579886704017408/paralyzed-in-lust-sukuna-x-f-reader

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna x reader #megumi #nobara #smut #jjk smut #ritual #demon #summoning #alternate universe #college #university

39 notes · View notes

chloelucia13 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 14: Suzie, Do you Copy?

Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x (kinda) Platonic!Henderson!reader)

Prompt: You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: Dustin’s return to Hawkins had overjoyed you, but other than that, there was no change to the normal routine of your summer. At least, that’s what you thought.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, spoilers (obvi), language, mentions of violence, injuries, pretty chill tbh

Word Count: 2764

A/N: AHHHH, I’m back finally! I’m so sorry I took so long to update this story! Hopefully I’ll be able to get back onto this series and update it regularly like I used to, but I can’t make any promises. For the time being, I hope you enjoy and make sure to keep an eye out for any updates! As always, my taglist and ask box is open!

Tags: @just-my-fandom, @nightbu-g

You couldn’t recall a time you had woken up earlier than nine a.m. in the past month.

In all honesty, you had considered just sleeping in until the very last minute scramble to get dressed, rush out the door, and get back before Dustin got home.

Unfortunately that plan could not be executed as your mother woke you up, knowing you well enough that she could predict your plans.

And that was why you were at the mall at 10 a.m., your gaze focused on the floor as you made the trek over to Scoops Ahoy. Surprisingly, there was a small line in the shop, considering it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

As you finally stood at the counter and lifted your head, Steve visibly relaxed, his “customer service” persona fading. “Oh thank god, it’s just you,” he sighed, leaning against the counter.

“Just little ol’ me,” you hummed, absentmindedly rubbing at your eye. “God, has the day already gone to shit for you, Steve?”

“Well, he’s already struck out twice if that’s any indication,” Robin piped up, peeking through the window that peered into the back area.

“Twice? Didn’t you guys open just an hour ago?”

“Don’t rub it in,” Steve huffed, a frown sinking onto his features.

“Fine, fine.”

You and Steve had grown close in the past six months, sharing a special bond that you honestly needed. Though you couldn’t decide if the bond grew from him literally saving your life, or from your significant others (well, for Steve at least) dating each other rather than you two. Both, probably.

“Are you here to order something or just to bully me?” he spoke finally, pulling his ice cream scooper from his makeshift-holster.

“Right, right. Just a pint of cookie dough and a pint of strawberry,” you instructed, pulling a ten out of your pocket.

He nodded and began scooping the two pints of ice cream. “Who’s the cookie dough for?”

“Dustin.”

He looked up at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. “He’s coming back today?”

“Yeah!”

He sealed the lid of the cookie dough pint. “No one tells me anything!”

You rolled your eyes. “Steve, I told you this two days ago.”

You heard Robin let out a laugh in the back room and Steve pressed his lips into a line. “Do you want ice cream or not?!”

You laughed. “Come on, you know you’d never deprive your two favorite people of ice cream.”

He rolled his eyes and finished up the second pint, sliding both of them over to you as you handed him the $10 bill. “Do you work today?”

“Unfortunately. I’m just hoping I’ll be home before dark tonight because they’ve been fucking keeping me for hours after closing.”

“Doesn’t the pool close at like five?”

“Yup,” you huffed, popping the ‘p.’ “And, to top it all off, I’m stuck with Heather and Billy today.”

The two of you cringed simultaneously. “Can’t say I’d rather be you.”

“Thanks for the support.” You took the change from Steve and stuffed it into your pocket before cradling both pints of ice cream in your arms. “Well, I gotta drop these off at home and then sit in the sun for a few miserable hours. I’ll call you when I get home.”

***

Your soul nearly left your body when a chorus of screams erupted in the kitchen as soon as you stepped in the front door. They fell silent a moment later, though, and a voice echoed out, “Oh, it’s just you.”

With a hand clutched over your chest, you rolled your eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you guys with my presence, but can we avoid killing me the next time you see me?” you huffed, still struggling to take in a proper breath.

We thought you were Dustin,” Lucas explained, a party blower between his teeth.

“Yeah, I figured.” You brushed past the group and put the ice cream in the freezer. “Can someone make sure that Dustin gets his ice cream? I won’t be able to see him until later tonight.”

“I can,” Will spoke up, raising his hand in the air.

“Finally, someone I can count on.” You grabbed the drawstring bag that held all of your items and slung it over your shoulder. “How’s Jonathan enjoying his job at the newspaper?”

There was a small silence. “You haven’t talked to him about it?” Mike spoke up, and Max swatted his arm.

You shook your head, the healing scratch on your eye beginning to burn slightly. “No, not yet. We’ve, uh... We’ve both been too busy. We haven’t talked in a couple of weeks.” More like a month.

There was another silence before Will spoke. “He likes it. He has the dark room all to himself,” he explained, his voice gentle and hesitant.

“Good. That’s good. Tell him I said hi, or something.” You cleared your throat before turning to the group and giving them a smile. “I gotta head to work. You guys have fun, okay?”

***

God, you felt like vomiting.

Everything seemed to be going wrong today, like you forgetting to bring your sunscreen and sunglasses, Billy and Heather’s constant pestering and gossiping, Billy ignoring his job so he could flirt with Mrs. Wheeler, Mrs. Wheeler completely ignoring you so she could flirt with Billy, the dozens of kids that had coined multiple nicknames for you and your scar, and the 101 degree temperature that was unrelenting.

Luckily, though, the day was close to coming to an end. Most of the crowd had thinned, excluding a couple of kids who spent the whole day there anyways and adults who insisted on lingering until they absolutely had to leave.

The shriek of a whistle startled you from your thoughts, your head slipping from your hand and making you lurch forward slightly. A group of muffled cackles sounded to your right, and you rolled your eyes. “Can I help you, or are you just here to make my life a living hell,” you grumbled, snapping your gaze over to Billy and Heather.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted a water, but I guess not,” Heather huffed, stubbornly crossing her arms over your chest.

You gave her a doubtful glance. “Were you really?”

She laughed. “No. Now get up, It’s my turn on deck.”

With a huff you stepped down the ladder and tucked your book and raft under your arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Billy step closer. “Billy, if you push me in the pool you’re gonna wake up with no fucking mullet tomorrow.”

The pair just laughed behind you condescendingly, and you stomped away with a scowl etched on your face.

Ever since the... altercation that occurred months ago, Billy had kept his distance from you. It was a relief, knowing that he wouldn’t test your limits for the sake of his own health. But that didn’t stop him from sprinkling in some teasing every single time he spoke to you.

The hot concrete stung the soles of your feet, and you picked up your pace so you could get to the office before your feet blistered.

“Hey, no running!” You froze at the voice, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Slowly, you turned on your heel to face the source.

Jonathan stood behind the fence, his hands in his pockets and a shy smile on his face.

“Jonathan?” you whispered, tilting your head slightly as if you were a dog.

“Hey Y/N,” he hummed, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot.

A small smile settled on your face and you walked over to the fence, a silent sigh of relief leaving your lips when your feet settled on the grass that bordered the fence. “Hey! W-What are you doing here? I thought you got out the same time that I did?”

“I do, I just uh... I wanted to go on a walk.”

You nodded. “Oh, okay.”

“And I uh, I wanted to see you. Just see how you were doing, I mean.”

You let out a small chuckle, hooking your fingers through one of the chain links in the fence. “I’m doing good. I mean, as good as I can be sitting in the heat for five hours straight with no sunglasses. How have you been?”

“I-I’m good. Isn’t Dustin back in town?”

“He is, he just got back today. I haven’t seen him yet, though. How’s your job at the paper going?”

“It’s good, really good. I’m enjoying it a lot.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The two of you stood silently, avoiding each other’s gaze except for the spare glances you’d risk.

“I should get going,” Jonathan spoke finally, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

“Right, yeah,” you hummed, clearing your throat. “It was good to see you, Johnny.”

“You too.” His mouth opened as if he wanted to say more, but he decided against it, giving you an awkward wave before walking away.

You lingered there for a moment, an all-too-familiar ache in your chest as you watched him walk away from you.

***

After rinsing off, getting changed, and making a final check of the area, you were finally off for the night. You could feel your shoulders nearly weighing your entire body down and your eyelids were extremely close to falling shut at any moment. Silently, you made the trek through the parking lot and over to your car.

You hopped in the driver’s seat and fished your key out of your bag before putting it in the ignition and twisting.

And twisting again.

And one more time.

Shit.

You slammed your hands against the wheel and let out a groan, throwing your head back against the headrest. “Of course. Of fucking course,” you grumbled.

Then you began to weigh your options. The first idea that came to your mind was walking home, but you quickly decided against it as you were too exhausted and it was too far.

Your next idea was to walk over to The Hawkins Post and see if you could catch a ride with Jonathan. But you knew that wherever Jonathan was, Nancy would also be. For a moment, you contemplated swallowing your embarrassment and fear and just do it, but again, you decided against that option.

Then you thought about using the phone in the office to call Steve, but you had no idea if he was even home.

And after running through all of the ideas in your mind, you last ditch plan walked past your peripheral.

You shoved all of your disgust down and hopped out of your car, rushing to try and catch up.

“Billy!” you shouted, trying to stuff your keys back in your bag as you jogged over to him.

He stopped and turned to look at you, part-confusion and part-annoyance wrinkling his features. “What?” he huffed.

“Can you, um...” You shifted awkwardly, the reality of the moment catching up to you. “Would you mind giving me a ride home? My car won’t start.”

He rolled his eyes, fishing a pack of cigarettes out from his leather jacket. “Y’know, any other night I’d love to, but I’ve actually got plans tonight. Call a tow truck or something.��

“Billy, please.” Your shoulders slumped. “I don’t live that far from you.”

“Who said I was going home?”

Your jaw tightened and you pulled your bag higher up on your shoulder. “I’ll pay you $20. Just please.”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to do it? I saw you talking to him earlier.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! Goddammit-” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath and scrubbing a hand over your face. “$50.”

He stood there a moment, placing a cigarette between his teeth as he silently debated it. “Fine. But you’re paying me upfront.”

You bit your tongue and refrained from snapping at him, instead pulling your wallet from your bag and handing him a $50 bill. He snatched it from your fingers and shoved it in his back pocket before nodding his head over to his car and heading that way.

Though the anxiety from asking him was gone, it was replaced with the anxiety of being in a vehicle with a man who very clearly hated your guts. Your brain was nagging you to just walk home, but you pushed the annoying warnings away and got in the passenger seat.

Billy had exited the parking lot before you even had a chance to put on your seatbelt, the engine roaring as he tore down the empty streets. The ride was silent other than that annoying engine, his godawful music, and your heart racing so loudly and harshly that you felt as if you were about to have a heart attack.

Whether it was your panic or your swarming thoughts, you had zoned out for the first few minutes of the ride. When you finally came to, you realized that you were nowhere near your house. “Did you take a wrong turn?” you mumbled, brows furrowing confusedly.

He scoffed, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. “No, I have an errand to run,” he explained as if you were stupid, as if you were already aware of his plans.

Oh my god, he’s gonna kill me.

You gulped, gripping onto your drawstring bag. “What errand?”

“Well, I had already made plans with Karen before you decided to ask for my help, so you’re tagging along.”

Your jaw dropped and you turned in your seat to face him. “You’re making me sit in the car while you hook up with Mrs. Wheeler? You said you were gonna take me home!”

“I did, but I didn’t specify when.” He was grinning from ear to ear, and you had to move your hands under your thighs so you didn’t smack that look off of his face.

“You motherfucker. Literally.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up and get in the back seat. I don't want her seeing you.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Excuse me?”

“I said-”

His words were cut off by a large object hitting the windshield, making both of you jump and causing him to lose control of the vehicle. The car spun off of the road and collided into a tree on your side, making Billy’s head collide into his door and crushing your door into your body.

A slew of curses and grunts fell from your mouth as you worked your way out of the seat, feeling your ribs ache with each breath as you finally got out from between the door and the center console. You sat down on the center console and gripped onto the back of the seat for balance.

“Oh, no,” Billy grumbled from beside you, eyes wide as he took in the damage. The stereo still spat out a distorted and garbled sound that resembled the music that were playing earlier as Billy tried to restart the car, to no avail. “Piece of shit.”

You finally glanced over at him. “You’re bleeding,” you wheezed out, watching the blood drip down his forehead and into his eye.

He reached up and touched the wound, pulling away and glancing down at his fingers with disdain. “Shit.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel before shoving his door open and crawling out. You followed behind him, collapsing to the ground beside his feet. You gripped onto his arm and heaved yourself up.

Billy left your side to attempt to pry the passenger door open, only for a spew of expletives to fall from his mouth. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks for asking,” you huffed, leaning against the car and clutching your right side as he stomped past you and over to the front of the car.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, leaning close to the windshield and gliding his finger along the spiderwebbed glass. “What the hell?”

A strange ooze clung to his finger, stretching between his hand and the windshield with a strong elasticity. “Fuck.”

A rustling in the shrubs near the building you stood by attracted both of your attention, your heart leaping to your throat.

“Who’s there!” Billy shouted, his body standing straight up.

“I don’t think it’s a who,” you grumbled, reaching for your pocket knife in your back pocket. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

As you opened your mouth to explain, Billy fell to the ground and was lugged away by a snaking vine. You screamed, but before you could move onto the car and off of the ground, a similar vine wrapped around your legs and dragged you through the dirt

64 notes · View notes

i-need-some-mint-tea · 3 years

Text

Cherries and Chess

I decided to write Fan AU 2; Electric Boogaloo

Words: 1704

Tags: @imma-potatoo @red-imeanblue

Pairings: Loceit, but they’re both gay idiots despite being so smart

(Logan’s perspective)

It had been a week since I had first joined Janus on the ceiling fan. In that time, we had established a routine. I’d usually get up first, eat some cherries that I stick to the ceiling, replace them, talk with Janus, Patton would hand us some food with some help from Roman (Patton got on his shoulders so he could reach us), Virgil would get a snack, talk with Janus, do some other activity, talk with Janus until it was dark outside, then sleep. Rinse and repeat. I had to admit, it was quite nice. Most surprisingly, talking with Janus wasn’t as draining as talking with the others. That was most fortunate because he was the only person who was constantly with me.

The sound of footsteps brought me back to reality slightly, by the pattern of them, I knew it was Patton bringing us breakfast. I saw him walk into the kitchen, “Heya, kiddos!”

He said cheerfully. “Good morning, Patton,” I heard Janus say. I heard the fridge open, but I paid no mind, I was too absorbed in my thoughts to care. I heard Patton take a deep breath in. I knew what was going to happen, I covered my ears. “ROMAN!” Patton yelled, immediately summoning the side in question.

“Yes, padrè?” Roman questioned, then saw where he was summoned to. “You do know, Patton, that you could just do this,” Roman waved his hand dramatically and a pulley system materialized right next to me. “You can use this pulley to bring them food. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish my morning routine. A prince must look his best!” With that, Roman sunk out.

“Thanks, kiddo!” Patton called after him. The three of us sat in silence, the sizzle of bacon Patton was making the only sound. That peacefulness was quick to end as Remus came barreling into the kitchen.

“Hey, nerds!” He called out to who I presumed to be Janus and I. The both of us looked down at him. “Throw the cherries down at me, I want to see how many I can catch in my mouth!” He said as he grinned maniacally.

“I suppose that would be interesting.” I tilted my head, “That’d be a good experiment. How many cherries can one catch if they’re thrown off of a rotating object?” I asked aloud.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Janus said, and before I could answer, he plucked a cherry from the bag sitting next to me and threw it down at Remus. I saw Remus’s eyes light up as he dove for the cherry like the only thing that mattered was catching it. To my surprise, he did catch it. Never underestimate Remus, I guess.

We threw 7 more cherries down at Remus before Patton said, “Well I do think this is fun, maybe you should turn the fan off, it could be a haza-“ I cut him off, “It’s for science, Patton!” I said with a grin on my face.

“I’ve seen you smile a lot more ever since you got on that ceiling fan, kiddo.” Paton smiled, “I guess I’ll let it slide.” Wait. I’ve been smiling more?

“Patton, what do you mean I’ve been smiling more?” I asked as I tossed another cherry down to Remus. He caught that one as well, that’s 27 he’s caught.

I saw Patton scrunch his nose and looked a bit confused, like that was something I should’ve known, “Yeah, Logan. You seem happier.” He suddenly looked mischievous, “Any reason for that?” He asked innocently.

I was even more perplexed. Happier? Reason? How could I supply a reason if I hadn’t even known I was happier? I’ll deal with that later, I guess.

“Care- care to elaborate?” I asked. Patton then looked like he’d uncovered a secret, and his eyes lit up. “Oh, never mind.” He said happily.

I turned to Janus to see if he was listening to see if he could explain what Patton meant, but he was caught up in throwing cherries down at Remus. Finally, a cherry hit Remus in the eye. “How many was that?” I asked excitedly.

As he caught my eye, Janus said, “47. 47 cherries.” Wow, impressive. I looked to Remus, who had picked the cherry off the ground and ate it. I could hear an audible, exaggerated gag from Janus as he watched Remus. I let out a breath of laughter.

��Hey, Janus?” I asked. “Yes, my dear nerd?” He replied, looking at me. I froze for a second when he called me that. Why do I always do that? “Would you- would you want to play chess?” I asked, tripping over my words a bit. I saw Janus nod, seemingly eager to play.

After many hours and 10 games, I said once more, “Checkmate.” Janus looked at me seemingly both bewildered and in awe.

“I have to say, you are very good at chess, Logan,” he said to me. I smiled a bit as my chest swelled with pride, “Thank you, Janus. You are a formidable opponent.” We both had worn ourselves out from so much chess. I had won 6 times, Janus 5 times. This was my seventh win.

It was only 5:00 in the afternoon, yet I was exhausted. As I laid down, I immediately went to sleep.

~~~

(Janus’s perspective)

Logan won again. I looked at him, “I have to say, you are very good at chess, Logan.” I shouldn’t be as surprised as I was, Logan was incredibly smart. That was one of the things I admired about him. Logan met my gaze with a slight smile, “Thank you, Janus. You are a formidable opponent,” he said to me. I smiled, I loved being complimented, especially by him.

I saw Logan yawn and laid down on the fan, with his glasses still on, might I add. Not once had he taken them off. If he always had before this, I didn’t notice. Then again I usually went to sleep before him. If he had his glasses on, he may break them or they may fall off the fan. I reached over and gently pulled off his glasses. Then I made the mistake of looking at his face after I pulled his glasses off.

Holy shit.

I felt a fluttering in my chest as I looked at him. “How the hell is your face so pretty.” I muttered. How dare he make me feel like this. Ew. I hate feelings, they’re so unpredictable and I don’t like it. Yet a small part of me didn’t exactly mind.

I set his glasses down next to him. I put my face in my hands and quietly groaned. I don’t know exactly why I reacted like that when I took off his glasses. Though, at the back of my mind, a possibility of why made itself clear. I ignored it. Nope, nope, not dealing with that today, nope.

I suddenly felt really tired, must’ve been from doing chess so much. I grabbed one of the blankets Patton gave us, laid down, and tried to go to sleep. Luckily, I did so in seconds.

~~~

I woke up for the sixth time, and I checked what hour it was. 5:27 AM was displayed clearly on the clock. I sighed, it’s close to morning, why not stay up? I summoned a cup of lavender tea, my favorite type. I looked out the window into the mindscape, and saw some stars still left in the sky. Maybe I'll look at the stars and watch the sunrise as I wait for my dear nerd to wake up. I wrote a quick note to Logan if he woke up before I got back stating where I was going. I placed the note on the fan, weighed down by the chess board from last night so it wouldn’t fly off the fan.

I hopped off of the fan, and was unpleasantly surprised when I found that my legs were a bit weak. Must be from not moving the past week.

As soon as I got outside onto the roof from the attic window, I felt a warm breeze on my face. Oh, that’s right, it’s spring. I climbed on the roof until I got to a comfortable spot. I looked out over the silent early morning world.

There was a heavily forested area to my right, with trees dotting the landscape everywhere else. There were patches of flowers everywhere, and I saw the grass move with the wind. Just to the left of my, there was a hill with a big oak tree with a tire swing and it too, was blowing in the wind.

I took a deep breath and drank in the scent of everything. I took off my hat, I liked feeling the wind in my hair. I set my hat next to me and looked up at the stars. There were so many stars, I could never count them all. Just then, I saw the sun peek out from over the hill. It bathed the world in early morning sunlight, making the dewdrops on the grass glisten.

I closed my eyes and just listened to the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and grass, as well as the chirps of the birds. I let out a sigh of contentment and hummed a bit.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I hear a familiar voice say. I opened my eyes and saw Logan approaching me on the roof. “It truly is,” I said quietly as he sat beside me. We sat in comfortable silence while watching the sun rise. I had closed my eyes again when Logan spoke, “Janus?” He said softly, as if any louder and he’d disturb the morning world. “Yes?” I asked, not opening my eyes.

“I wanted to thank you for taking off my glasses the other night. I tend to shift in my sleep, so if you hadn’t done that, I surely would’ve broken them,” he said softly. “It’s no big deal,” I replied as the image of what he looked like without the glasses flashed through my mind. The fluttering feeling returned, but I paid it no mind.

We spoke no more as I opened my eyes and together we watched the sun rise.

Hope y’all liked it! I’m having so much fun writing this!

#loceit #mintwrites #loceit fic #logan #logan sanders #deceit #janus #janus sanders #patton #patton sanders #remus #the duke #remus sanders #gay idiots #sanders sides

28 notes · View notes

preciouspeterbparker · 3 years

Text

the warmest bed i’ve ever known

finally got this bitch finished!

based on “tis the damn season” by taylor swift. i was also listening to the phoebe bridgers cover of “christmas song”, “last christmas” cover by pale waves (recorded @ spotify), and “home alone, too” by the staves

also this is only my 2nd time writing starker so lmk what you think plz?

happy holidays! - bloo

word count: 6.07k. this was intended to basically be a porny blurb...instead there’s so much fucking plot it’s probably overwhelming and minimal porn. i’m sorry

warnings: angst, depression & anxiety, drug use (that good kush ft some hotboxing & shotgunning), smut, character death (not tony or peter), tony’s kind of country lmao. despite all the aforementioned things, there is in fact a happy ending!

summary: peter makes the trip back home for christmas and once again finds himself caught up in deep brown eyes and a charming smile. tis the damn season.

Peter had forgotten how cold New York winters were. He’d grown used to the year-long warmth of Los Angeles. He supposed the cold was appropriate- it was as if the weather was in cahoots with the solid, frigid thing that was sitting in the pit of his stomach. The last time he’d spent Christmas in Aurora, the last time he’d seen him… Tony.

Just thinking the other man’s name made Peter flex his hands anxiously as he slid out of the driver’s seat of his black Mercedes AMG GT into the amber glow of the streetlight, gently shutting the door closed behind him, still in the overly cautious period of owning the new car. He wondered what Tony would think of it. Last time Peter had come home, he was still driving May’s old Subaru. It’d been almost 2 years to the day, now, which felt like both a century and no time at all. He wished it wasn’t so hard. He wished they hadn’t been caught in this song & dance for so long. It seemed like no matter how good Peter’s intentions, it always came down to one thing: he was so damn scared. He always ran away, no matter how badly he wanted to stay.

Scuffing a boot through the slush in the street, the brunette straightened his shoulders and made his way toward the brick building, a quick smile quirking half his mouth up as he read the neon red sign above the closed garage door. Stark’s. Memories came flooding back, the countless nights he spent cooped up in the little shop during high school, sketching elaborate ensembles and daydreaming about having his very first collection while surrounded by the smell of motor oil and the sounds of tinkering. The bell above the door jingled merrily as Peter stepped through and wiped his feet on the mat. The pleasant sound of Frank Sinatra crooning the words of “The Christmas Waltz” met his ears. Another small smile flitted over Peter’s face. That was something that tended to happen when he was around Tony.

“Just a second,” came the slightly muffled voice, a little strained. The man in question was bent over, headfirst in the engine of his old 1979 Chevy C10, the one he’d gotten senior year of highschool. The collar of a heather grey henley peeked out from under a deep red and green plaid flannel stretched over his shoulders as he leaned a little further under the hood, using a wrench to tighten what looked to be a lugnut to Peter from his spot by the door, too nervous to go further inside.

“I can wait,” Peter replied softly, trying not to stare at Tony’s jean-clad ass and anxious of the older boy man’s reaction. (It looked like Tony had done a lot of growing up over the past two years, no longer the boy he remembered. Peter supposed the same could be said about himself in a way, though he wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse.)

And apparently he was right to be cautious.

Tony promptly smacked his head on the underside of the hood as he jerked upright at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Fuck.” Moving more carefully, Tony stood upright and turned around, his dark eyes wide. “Peter,” he said, visibly and audibly surprised. To be honest, it hurt Peter a little bit, how surprised he sounded. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Did they not do this nearly every year over the past seven? Had- Oh god, had something changed? Fuck, did Tony finally get tired of- Had he found-

Peter resolutely cut that train of thought off before he could panic. “Hi, Tony.” He swallowed drily, making eye contact for a moment, before casting his eyes away only for them to make their way back to the open face in front of him. “Think you have time for a quick bite to eat?” He slipped his left hand into the pocket of the new, warm wool coat he bought expressly for this trip. “It’s almost dinner time. And I have a treat,” he intoned, tapping his right pointer and middle fingers against his lips.

Tony beamed and immediately reached for a shop rag to wipe his hands, the black grease and oil smearing on the probably-used-to-be-white-at-some-point fabric. One of those hands came up to scratch at his facial hair, a new addition that made something simmer deep in Peter’s gut. The older man's brown eyes twinkled as he paused to glance at Peter. “You had me at ‘hi, Tony.’” He then proceeded to move about the shop, swiping his phone from atop a chest of metal drawers, Sinatra’s voice coming to an abrupt stop. He pulled on his old lined jean jacket (the one Peter was constantly mending in high school; now it just had small tears in some places, and what appeared to be Tony’s d-i-y patchwork in others). The sign on the front door was flipped to ‘closed’ and Tony pulled a keyring from his belt loop, locking it and flicking off the lights. The streetlights outside the building and the colorful holiday lights strung along the edge of the roof provided just enough light for them to be able to clearly see each other, the sun having set early, around four o’clock. Peter had forgotten about that as well.

He moved to grab his car keys from a pocket but Tony spoke up, patting the dark green paint of his truck’s hood and walking over to the garage door. His hand hovered over the button that would open it. “Actually, I just finished giving Delilah a tuneup, mind if we take ‘er for a spin?”

“Sure,” Peter agreed without hesitation, still feeling relieved (and grateful) that his invitation was accepted.

Tony pushed his palm against the button and paused to do a double-take after the metal door lifted completely. His eyebrows rose at the sight of Peter’s car parked in the small lot beside the shop. “Damn, L.A.. Not worried about your fancy new car?” His tone was slightly teasing, but there was a bit of shock mixed with something else as well, and it caused Peter to go hot, feeling insecure. (What if Tony didn’t like who Peter was, now? Peter didn’t exactly like who he was now.) Tony must’ve noticed his discomfort, because he cracked a grin and bumped his shoulder against Peter’s as he made his way to the driver’s side, yanking the door open. “C’mon, Parker, ‘m just fuckin’ with you. Hop in - how’da some burgers from Delmar’s an’ a trip out to the field sound?”

***

They grabbed food from the hole-in-the-wall diner down the road (the one where sixteen year-old Peter burned the shit out of his hand on his first day and promptly quit) and once they were bundled back in the truck with their burgers, fries and one banana milkshake (“yeah, but these are your favorite,” Tony had said in response to Peter’s exclamation that it was too cold out), Tony drove them out to the field behind the old high school. He parked the car under the lamppost, leaving it running in order to keep the heat on. His thick mechanic’s fingers began to fiddle with the temperature controls. Nat King Cole was playing quietly on the radio.

Peter shifted the paper bag of food in his lap, searching for words but not knowing what to say, and plucked the joint and lighter from his coat. The paper-covered filter found its way between his lips and he inhaled softly as he lit the tip. Satisfied with the light, he french inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. The first hit was always the best. Peter loved the way he could feel it all the way in his bones. He didn’t know how to describe it other than deep. When he opened them, he made eye contact with Tony in the dim light, and immediately cut his gaze away as he felt the heat rush to his face. He could feel when Tony looked away a moment later.

The lull continued and Peter gingerly held the joint between his fingertips as he exhaled, hand outstretched.

Worn fingers plucked it away, and Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the slightly chapped lips that wrapped themselves around the filter. “You stayin’ at um, at May's...old place?” Tony faltered as he inhaled, as if he wasn't sure what the most sensitive way to talk about it was.

“Yeah," Peter said softly as he looked down at his lap. Spending his first night in the house alone last night had made him feel the loneliest he'd ever been in his life, and that was saying something because he’d been feeling pretty miserable lately. Peter saw May everywhere he looked, waiting to hear her call for him to come taste some new-fangled recipe from the kitchen, or to please, for the hundredth time, rinse the dishes before he put them in the sink. He missed her more than he thought possible, her death earth-shattering after having already lost Ben when he was 17, back when this mess all started. When he left for the first time. When he started running away. “It’s- It’s weird but I’m...adjusting. It’s honestly not that different to when she was alive, though. Y’know- recently.” He cut himself off, not sure if he wanted Tony to know the full reality of his existence, now.

Because it was true. It killed Peter to admit it, but his relationship with Aunt May started going downhill around the time of Ben’s death, too. By the time she had her heart attack a little more than two years ago, he hadn’t seen her in over a year, or talked to her in nearly as long. It was the biggest regret of his life, pushing May away; the second was the way he essentially did the same thing to Tony, however drawn-out it had been.

Peter reached out for the joint and his fingers brushed against Tony’s, sending a jolt up his spine. “How,” Peter started, swallowing as he twiddled the lighter between his fingers not holding the joint. “How’ve you been, Tony?” He was scared to ask what he really wanted to know. Have you finally had enough? Did you stop waiting on me? Am I too late? To distract himself a bit, he cracked the window so he could ash the joint before taking another drag.

"Same ol’, same ol’,” came Tony’s reply, his voice weary. “I mean, you already know this, but nothin’ really changes here." The quiet way he said it was slightly self-deprecating and the younger man hated it, hated that he had something to do with it. (Peter remembered the way he spat the words at Tony in the wee hours of the morning oh so long ago. "I've gotta get out of this fucking town- I can’t stay here, Tony! You might be okay dying here, a nobody with nothing, but I'm not!")

That’s why I had to leave, he thought, chest tightening. I was trapped in this town. It was never you, Tony. You were perfect. You’re perfect.

"..Yeah," is what came out instead. Peter took another hit before he handed the joint back to Tony and began rifling through the grease-splotched bag, passing the older man his burger before unwrapping his own. He took the top bun off in order to lay down a handful of fries from the bag, smooshing the top back on afterwards. A moan left Peter’s mouth at the first bite, and he heard a chuckle bubble up from Tony’s chest. (He would never admit it, especially not to anyone back in L.A., anyone who didn’t know him before, but this was his favorite meal in the world.)

“Funny that you still do that. So, um,” Tony began again, stuffing a few fries in his mouth and chewing as he spoke out the side of his mouth. “I saw your new collection. It looked nice.” He licked a bit of salt off his thumb.

Peter’s ears burned as he swallowed his bite and raised an eyebrow at the man across from him. “You pay attention to fashion, now?” He fought off a smile at the thought of Tony delicately flipping through the pages of a high-fashion magazine.

“Not like- I’ve tried to keep up with your work,” Tony mumbled, swallowing, his own face taking on a bit of a rosy-hue. “Like to know what you're up to all the way out there.” The joint touched his lips for a few seconds before it made its way back to Peter’s fingers. “I do know how Google works.”

Peter shivered as he felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach at the salt grains that touched his tongue when he took his next pull. “Tastes like salt,” he breathed on the exhale, locking eyes with Tony through the smoke that had accumulated in the car.

Something flashed in the older man’s eyes as he stole the weed back and took a large hit, crooking his salt-sprinkled fingers to beckon Peter closer.

Peter’s own reddened eyes widened when he caught on to what Tony wanted, his heart picking up speed. They hadn’t done that in years. Still clutching his burger in his left hand, he used the right to support himself as he leaned over the console to press his mouth against Tony’s. He closed his eyes as he inhaled, fighting the urge to slip his tongue somewhere it didn’t belong. One of Tony’s hands came up to pull his head closer for a moment, his tongue having the same idea as Peter’s, causing him to whine into Tony’s mouth. His pants were getting tight as he licked right back in response, feeling a slight burn from exhaling through his nose. He missed this. Nobody kissed him like Tony did-

“Shit!” Tony pulled away sharply, and Peter’s heart stopped for a second. But when he realized what was happening, he couldn’t contain the surprised cackle that erupted as he saw the joint land in the other man’s lap. “Quit it,” was Tony’s reply, though he was grinning as he said it. He grabbed what was left of the joint off his jeans and stubbed it out the rest of the way on the dashboard. “It burned my fuckin’ finger.”

“Oh poor baby,” Peter shot back, shifting in his seat and taking another bite of his burger. He willed the slight chub to go away, but knew it was a lost cause. He pretty much signed up for it; he was always turned on when he was high around Tony (and most of the time when he was sober, too). Some kind of conditioning or something, he thought deliriously.

“Ya better hush up, Parker,” Tony snarked and dipped some fries into Peter’s banana shake. He rolled his neck a bit, reaching for his burger. “So, kid. Tell me ‘bout L.A..”

***

Peter was basking peacefully in his high, humming along to whatever was playing through the speakers. He and Tony had both finished their food, chatting about this and that, but nothing of real substance, their earlier stilted conversation far from their minds. Shooting the shit, as Tony called it, over some weed and a meal was their normal routine when they were younger, and it came as naturally as breathing. Peter had never met anyone else he could simply coexist with on this level, simply enjoying the other’s presence for what it was. I love you, he thought as he looked at Tony, who was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed and nodding his head along with the beat. I’m so in love with you and it scares the shit out of me.

The younger man’s eyes roved over Tony’s face as his mind raced. What was he doing? Would something be different this time? He wasn’t that angry seventeen year old anymore- now he was twenty-four, clinically depressed, and living someone else’s life. Would it be so bad to finally leave that all behind, to finally let himself have what he’s denied himself for so long? Didn’t he deserve to be happy, after all this pain? And even if it wasn’t in the cards for them, if Peter was destined to be alone, wouldn’t even the most miniscule amount of time with Tony be worth it?

Tony’s gravelly voice startled him back to the present. “I should probably be gettin’ you home, huh, Peter?” The bearded man opened his eyes and began sitting up, turning to look at him. The expression on his face was unreadable, and Peter didn’t know if he should agree or protest, so he merely lifted a shoulder in faux indifference, shooting Tony a half-smile.

Please, call me Pete… Just Pete, Peter begged in his head. Tony calling him by his full name made the ugly thing in his chest wriggle uncomfortably. Last time he was home, before he said those awful things, Tony hadn’t called him Peter in years. Yet another beautiful thing that he’d taken for granted and ruined for himself.

“Could also drive around for a bit if you wanted, see some lights.” Damn Tony and his ability to read Peter so well. The suggestion was soft, and he looked down as he said it, almost as if he was feeling shy.

Peter shook his head minutely and shifted a little in his seat, gently biting his lip. “I’m getting a little tired, haven’t smoked in a while,” he lied through his teeth, but the smile on his face was real this time.

Tony grinned right back at him.

(“What would we even do on a date? There’s nothing to do here, Tony,” Peter said with a laugh. “I dunno,” Tony replied, snuggling the lighter-haired teenager closer into his chest as they snuggled on the couch. “We could go look at the Christmas lights, get some hot chocolate… I could tie some mistletoe to the mirror in the truck. There’d be sum kissin’ involved….” He trailed off as Peter’s lips found his own. “Or we could do the kissin’ right here,” he murmured, sinking into the kiss.)

***

The drive back to May’s house was spent with Tony catching Peter up on everyone in town as they passed various houses. (“Remember Happy Hogan, the butcher?? Him an’ that pretty florist, Ms. Potts, got married last year. Think they’re havin’ a baby,last I heard.” “Rhodey’s mama died this spring, she got cancer, but he an’ Mr. Rhodes still live out here now that Rhodey’s moved home. Honorable discharge last fall. Done got himself a new girlfriend now too, Carol; he met ‘er in the Air Force. She’s a sweet one, I think you’d like ‘er.”)

When they pulled into the driveway, Tony cut the engine and hopped out. Peter did the same, grabbing the bag with their trash and patting his pocket, double-checking for his keys and lighter. He stepped around Tony, who had stopped at the bottom of the front steps, and walked up to the door, fumbling for a minute with his keys under the porch light to find the right one (it had robin’s egg blue polka-dots of May’s favorite nail polish). Tony’s footsteps followed him up the stairs.

Peter stuck the key in the lock and opened the door a crack before turning to face the taller man. “So.”

Tony’s eyes searched his own as they gazed at one another. “So,” he parroted back. His index finger went up to rub at his nose as he took a hard sniff in. There was a beat of silence. “Thanks for the joint, and uh, the company. It was good seein’ you,” he said at last, a hint of his signature lopsided grin curving his lips.

Peter felt the goodbye that was coming before it even left Tony’s mouth, and something in him broke. “Don’t leave me here alone.” The words came out of Peter’s mouth in a mumble, and suddenly he couldn’t make eye contact with Tony, losing focus and staring at his own feet instead. He felt the harsh burning of tears as it hit him again just how alone he was about to be when he walked inside, how alone he already was. He was always so fucking alone.

Even in L.A., so much bigger than fucking Aurora, New York, surrounded by thousands of people, Peter still felt invisible, insignificant. He had no friends. Sure, he had a publicist, and connections, and celebrity acquaintances & clientele. But without his money and his clothes, what would he have? What did he have when he was just Peter Parker, rather than Peter Benjamin, semi-famous designer? Nothing. (When he got the call about May, and he’d broken down in the bathroom during a business meeting with representatives for Tom Ford, he realized he had no one to call. No one to comfort him or tell him it would be okay. He’d sobbed into his pillow that night, screaming his throat raw with Tony’s number punched into his phone, ready to be dialed. He never called.) He had nothing and no one, and it was all his fault because he was so stupid, and maybe this is just what he deserved. If he hadn’t pushed everyone-

“Hey- Hey, Peter, no. Never,” Tony was saying gently, cautiously pulling Peter into his strong arms and out of his anxiety attack. “‘m not goin’ anywhere if y’don’t want me to, baby.” He tucked Peter’s head under his chin, a chill running down his spine due to the chilly evening air. “S’okay, everythin’s okay.”

Peter sucked in a deep breath through his mouth, trying to calm himself. His forehead dug into Tony’s shoulder painfully but it helped to ground him. The soothing sensation of Tony’s fingers tracing circles on his back helped, too. Peter’s breath was still hitching every so often, so he shut his eyes and tried to synch his breathing with Tony’s. It felt so nice to just be this close to someone- Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held. Tony had probably been the last one to do it, though. (He’d had sex in L.A. of course, but it was all superficial. Nothing real. Nothing like what he had with Tony- not even close.) Shifting slightly, he buried his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck, searching unconsciously for the smell he loved so much; a mix of gasoline, teakwood, and something smoky. The scent sent a shiver down Peter’s spine, and that hot feeling simmered in his stomach again. He’d always joked that he would bottle Tony’s smell if he could. Tony would just laugh and jokingly tease Peter for always having his nose in his neck or armpit.

Now Tony just hummed lightly in response, tightening his hold for a moment before relaxing. “‘Yer’okay,” he whispered, once he could feel that Peter’s breathing had evened out for the most part.

Peter pulled back a bit and stared at a spot in the middle of Tony’s chest, thinking. He decided to go for it. Worst that could happen was Tony saying no, and leaving Peter here alone, but he knew he’d end up alone eventually. But he’d delay the inevitable as long as he could. “Kiss me, T,” he said quietly, leaning in before he could change his mind. His lips brushed Tony’s and he pulled back, trying not to go cross eyed looking into the other’s eyes. “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

Tony stared at him for a moment before their mouths met again, and Peter nipped gently at his lip before clumsily walking backwards through the cracked front door, pulling Tony with him with their mouths still connected. Tony’s foot kicked it closed behind them, bathing them in darkness, and he tripped a bit when Peter clutched at the lapels of his jacket a little too hard. Cursing under his breath, he leaned back against the door and tugged Peter along, using the support behind him to balance as he toed his boots off. They disconnected momentarily as the shorter man did the same, hands still gripping the denim.

Peter licked his lip as they stood in the dark entryway. Looking up at Tony, he shrugged his coat off, letting it fall to the hardwood floor beneath them. He reached out and gently pushed the denim jacket off the taller man’s shoulders too before leaning in, stopping just before their lips made contact. “Come upstairs with me,” he whispered.

Tony’s mocha eyes flitted around for a minute, searching his face for something. Peter couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw, but Tony kissed him again before taking his hand. “Your room,” he questioned, taking hold of the banister and leading Peter up the stairs.

***

“Fuck, Tony. Right there, right there, ohhhhh.” Peter was on his back with one leg thrown over Tony’s shoulder and the other bent off to the side, the ball of his foot pushing into the mattress. The mechanic’s uncut cock was stretching his lubed hole. Tony was leaning over him and one of his hands was clutching at Peter’s hip, the other at the leg up by his face. His facial hair scratched deliciously against the pale skin on the inside of Peter’s knee as he pressed a kiss there.

(Tony had kissed and licked and sucked praises into the skin of his neck, chest, stomach and thighs as he’d fingered him open at a torturously slow pace. “So good fer me, Pete. Look at you. You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Peter had whimpered and whined the whole time as he tried to fuck himself on the thick digits whose pads were caressing his prostate.)

A moan left the older man’s lips as he looked into Peter’s eyes. “You feel so good, baby. Always feel so- fuckin’- good,” he grunted, thrusting further in the tight, wet heat. “Love fuckin’ your ass.” He dug his fingers tighter into Peter’s skin, sure to leave bruises.

Gasping, Peter arched his hips up, toes curling, cock bobbing against his stomach with every thrust. He could feel Tony deep inside him, in that place that only he had ever been able to reach. Fuck, why had he ever let this go? Never letting you go again, Tony. You can’t leave me alone. I need you. I love you. He whined, baring his neck in a silent plea and bringing his leg down so that both were wrapped around the man’s thick waist. Tony reacted accordingly; his hands moved up to clutch at Peter’s near the headboard and his mouth latched onto the column of Peter’s neck, sucking. A wounded noise escaped Peter, his hole clenching, and Tony bit down harshly at the sensation. Peter keened again, going limp on the mattress as his legs fell open to the side. “Shit, Tony, god!”

Hot, wet breath tickled Peter’s neck with every ragged exhale that left Tony’s mouth, causing the smaller to whine lewdly, squirming. “Yeah? Are you- mine? Y’gon be mine- huh, Pete?” Peter heard the unspoken question, the twinge of desperation in Tony’s voice. Will you finally be mine? He sounded tired, that deep-in-your-bones type weariness, Peter noticed as he felt his own chest start to get tight. He’d really done a number on the person who deserved it the least. And for what? To come crawling back years later, expecting to be forgiven?

Yes, he thought in response to Tony’s question, hating himself for it. One of his hands tangled itself in the crown of Tony’s head, fingers pulling the strands at the root possessively as teeth sunk into his neck again. Yours. Always yours. He let out another moan, rolling his hips in an attempt to get some friction on his neglected cock that was weeping precum as Tony continued to thrust in and out of him. “Please, please- Tony, please.” If Peter had any shame left, he’d probably be blushing at how needy and wrecked he sounded. Instead it just turned him on, knowing just how gone he was for the other man.

With a grunt, Tony redistributed his weight and brought two fingers to Peter’s lips. “Open up fer a minute, baby,” he requested softly, slipping the digits inside. Peter laved them with his tongue, coating them with thick saliva and Tony groaned at the feeling, dick twitching in Peter’s ass. Once they were sufficiently wet, he pulled his fingers away, a thin string of drool stretching to connect them to Peter’s slick lips. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, Pete, Christ.” His calloused hand wrapped loosely around the hot, rosy cock between them. “Fuck my hand, baby.”

Peter complied without hesitation, rocking his hips and pressing his shaft in and out of the slick tunnel that was Tony’s hand. He cried out when Tony’s thumb caressed the underside of the head as the cock inside of him nailed directly into his prostate. The pressure had already been a lot, but the pleasure was suddenly overwhelming in a new way. He was so close and Tony hadn’t even been touching him for thirty seconds. “F-fuck, Tony, I’m gonna- Ahhhhh-”

“Yeah, cum for me, Pete,” Tony’s warm breath heaved into his ear, tongue sneaking out to lick the outer shell and dip inside briefly at the same time he tightened his grip on Peter’s sensitive member. “Fuck, cum for me, baby, cum on my- Cum on my cock- God-.”

And with a cry, Peter did just that, biting into Tony’s shoulder as the tension in his gut snapped, hole twitch relentlessly around the hard cock inside him as his own shot spurt after spurt of hot cum on his chest; some reached the hollow of his throat and his chin. “God, Tony, shit, shit, shit.”

“Yesssss, Pete, holy fuck.” Tony buried himself inside one last time, his mouth latching onto the column of Peter’s neck as he reached his orgasm, shoving himself inside as deep as possible. His dick twitched, painting Peter’s insides with his spend and making him groan.

They stayed that way for a moment before Tony pulled back to look into Peter’s eyes. “Lemme clean’ya up,” he offered gently as he carefully pulled his softening cock out of the heat of the younger man’s ass. There was a slight burbling sound, and he brushed his lips against Peter’s when he saw the embarrassment flash across his face. “Hol’ on.” Climbing out of the bed, he made his way to the bathroom that was adjoined to Peter’s room.

Peter’s heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest as he lay among the sheets, bringing his hands up to his chest to fiddle with each other anxiously. It couldn’t be over. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. He wasn’t ready to be alone again.

When Tony walked back in, he got back on the bed, gently wiping the cum off Peter’s chest with a warm rag, smirking at the full-body shivers that ran through the young man in response to the cloth being swiped lightly over his nipples. Once his chest was clean, Tony moved down to run the fabric between Peter’s ass cheeks, collecting the milky-white substance that was leaking out of the hole.

“Stay,” Peter whispered, once Tony had thrown the washcloth in the hamper and climbed back into bed at Peter’s invitation of patting the spot beside himself in bed. He wiggled so that his back was pressed up against Tony’s front. His fingers tangled themselves with those on a slightly larger hand and as he let his eyes slip shut, he felt Tony’s lips press a kiss into the sweaty curls at the back of his head.

***

When Peter woke up, it was well past noon. The bed was so warm that the heat from his and Tony’s bodies trapped up under the fluffy comforter would be sweltering if he didn’t crave it so much.

Peter swallowed drily as he looked at Tony’s face in the afternoon light, peaceful in sleep. At some point during their sleep, they had shifted to where they were facing each other. He wanted to trace his fingers along the strong facial features in front of him, but he refrained, not wanting to wake the older man. He knew he needed to talk to Tony. He knew that Tony deserved better. But maybe Peter could be selfish just this once... It was Christmas after all. Tis the damn season and all that.

Leaning forward, with a hand pressed gently against Tony’s chest, Peter pecked his lips against the sleeping man’s in a kiss. He got no response, so he did it again, adding a little more pressure. Tony began to stir; his arm wrapped lazily around Peter’s naked waist, pulling their bottom halves together.

“G’mornin’,” Tony mumbled sleepily as he blinked a few times before his gaze focused on Peter. His voice was scratchy and rough, and Peter’s hips jerked slightly in response as he whispered back his own greeting, partially because Tony had begun to get hard. The mechanic brought up a hand and took hold of Peter’s chin, pulling their mouths together as he ground their burgeoning erections together.

Peter wrapped a leg around Tony’s waist as they lay there on their sides and began to gently rock his hips. “Tony,” he mewled, eyes screwed shut. The words were bubbling up inside him, just like the arousal was blooming in his gut. One of his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, pulling their bodies together as close as they could get.

“Yeah,” came Tony’s breathy reply. His eyes were roving over Peter’s flushed face as he undulated his own hips, thumb coming up to press against the younger’s spit-slick bottom lip. “Whadisit?”

Peter took the digit into his mouth for a moment and they made eye contact as he swirled his tongue around the tip, fellating it. He released it from his mouth with a pop, biting his own lip. “Am I too late,” he asked quietly, burying his face in the muscled chest before him, pecking tender kisses on the heated flesh. “Do you still love me?” His voice shook as he continued, breath faltering as well as the sensations built up. He squeezed his eyes shut even though Tony couldn’t see the tears building in his eyes as he chased his pleasure, preparing for the inevitable pain that was sure to follow.

“Pete.” The way Tony said his name was reverent, like he didn’t see Peter for the walking mistake that he was. He was breathing heavier now, too, with the exertion of frotting their hard cocks together. “How could I ever stop, baby?” He craned his neck in order to meet Peter’s eyes. “Was just waitin’ on ya t’come home.” He pressed their lips together as Peter’s leg tightened around his waist. “Was always just waitin’ on ya t’come home,” he repeated. A particularly hard thrust had them both groaning, clutching desperately at each other as they chased that euphoric feeling. “’Course I love you, Peter. Now cum for me.”

Peter couldn’t help but obey as a sob burst from his lips, Tony following him over the edge. “I love you,” he cried, as their bodies shook together. “I’m s-sorry Tony, I love you- Don’t go, don’t ever leave me. I won’t- I promise I won’t go again. I can’t go again, I can’t leave you again. I won’t.” Tony’s thumbs came up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, and a kiss was pressed to his temple as he felt himself be pulled into those strong arms.

“I’d never leave you, Pete.”

***

The bed was cold when Peter woke again. He lay there, watching the sunset through his bedroom window. Gentle creaks could be heard as the house groaned under pressure from the falling snow. He rolled over, grimacing at the pain in his lower half and pulling a pillow to his chest. It still smelled of teakwood, smoke, and gasoline. He smiled, burying his face further into the intoxicating scent. “I love you,” he whispered to the empty house, feeling lighter than he had in years.

(Yes, the bed was cold, now. But Tony would be back to warm it up. And he’d have burgers, fries, and a banana milkshake when he returned. Maybe even a joint. Peter was glad he didn’t have to wait long. They’d had just about enough of that over the past seven years.)

#starker #hey it might be a week later than i intended to finish but at least it's out by christmas #bloo writes bad things (tm)#enjoy!

73 notes · View notes

13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

Text

Can’t Go Back Part 18

A/N: This chapter got away from me a bit. It’s over 6 thousand words so tuck in guys. I hope you like it. And as I’ve said before, any time a character gets sick in this, it’s nothing more than a flu or common bug. Given this is a Before chapter, COVID didn't exist, but just given the situation currently. I feel like it is important to say that. Just a note on temperature. According to Google 52 degrees F is roughly 11 degrees C. 45 degrees F is roughly 6 degrees C. For my fellow non-USians. Feedback is appreciated as always and much love. -Em

Winter formal was upon us. It was only one day out now. Jeff was still on me about going, like he had been for weeks. I still had no intention of going. And as luck would have it, I had just run into the perfect excuse not to go. I woke up Friday morning to my stomach cramping and churning. Oh god this is awful. I feel like I got hit by a truck. Before I even had time to wake up wake up, I rolled over and grabbed my trashcan. My body shook as I coughed. Sitting up, I flung my legs over the side of my bed. My mom knocked on the door. “Addison? Are you alright honey?”

“Yeah Mom. I’m okay. Just not feeling very well.” She opened the door and peeked inside.

“Let me check your temperature.”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” Mum looked around the room cautiously.

“Of course. I’ll be downstairs. Come down whenever you’re ready.” I nodded and held my stomach.

I went downstairs once my teeth were cleaned and I had rinsed my mouth several times. Mum and dad were in the kitchen. I groaned. The smell of coffee brewing was making me queasy. “I already called the school. You’re staying home today.” Mum said, coming to fawn over me. I waved her off.

“Okay. I’ll call Justin and tell him he needs to get himself to school.” I grabbed a pack of saltines and a Gatorade to take upstairs.

“Feel better.” Dad called after me. I heard him say to mum that it probably wasn’t really that bad. “She should still go to school.” Mum didn’t answer. I changed into a different pair of pyjamas and crawled into bed. My crackers and juice were set neatly on the nightstand by my bed. I grabbed the book I was reading last night. As a last-minute decision, I grabbed my trash can and pulled it closer to the bed.

I called Justin after I got comfortable. “Hello?”

“Morning Justy.”

“Morning Addy.”

“I’m sick.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’ll need to find your own way to school today.”

“I can do that. Are you sure you’re sick? Or are you just trying to get out of going to Formal?”

“I have crackers and Gatorade. I wasn’t even out of bed yet.”

“Oh.” He exclaimed. “Um. Yeah. You stay in bed. And remember to drink water. And dry toast.”

“I will. Can you grab my homework? And tell Jeff Atkins that I’m sorry I won’t get to enjoy the magic of Winter Formal tomorrow.”

“Sure thing. Feel better.”

“Mhmm. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I rolled over in bed and tried to get a little more sleep. It was a useless venture. I spent half an hour tossing and turning. I couldn’t get comfortable. It was too hot with the blankets on. It was too cold with them off. One leg out didn’t feel much better. My head was starting to hurt. My stomach was doing flips and cramping. Frustrated, I threw the covers off and went to the bathroom. The bottle of Tylenol was shoved in the back of the medicine cabinet. I took two of the foil packets and went back to bed.

Briefly, my mind went there. I had a flash of another kind of foil packet. And a flash of a calendar. My eyes widened slightly before I counted. Then I remembered that we hadn’t not used a condom, ever. I had an IUD. We were protected either way for…. I couldn’t think the word. We also hadn’t had sex in a month. And I had gotten my period between then and now. I sighed in relief. That thought did make me realize I hadn’t texted Monty yet. I took my phone again and saw that he had texted me about fifteen minutes ago.

Morning Addison. I swiped left and his message opened.

Morning Montgomery.

You’re up late this morning.

I’ve actually been up.

Oh? Everything okay?

Yes and no.

I’m kind of sick. But it’s nothing to worry about.

You sure?

Yeah. I’m alright. Just need to eat my crackers, drink my juice, and sleep. On the plus side, I can get out of going to the dance without lying to Jeff Atkins.

I can come by tonight if you want.

I’ll think about it.

Okay. A few minutes later he sent me another text. Why do you call him Jeff Atkins and not just Jeff?

I dunno. He calls me Addison Hawthorne. No one else does it. It’s kind of just a thing we do.

Can I call you by your full name?

No.

Not even occasionally?

No.

Why?

Is your name Jeff Atkins?

No?

Then there is your answer.

Fine, fine. Feel better, okay?

I’ll try.

I’ll text you later baby.

Mmkay. The Tylenol I took was starting to kick in and my eyelids were getting heavy. Before I could drop it, I put my phone on the nightstand. I woke up again around noon. My stomach was feeling a little better, so I sat up and ate a few crackers slowly. The medicine had worn off by now. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my missed notifications for a bit. Nothing too interesting had happened. I sighed heavily and tossed my phone to the side of my bed.

My book was more interesting than I expected it to be, and soon enough I was almost done. The tri-tone buzz of my phone distracted me. I rested the book in my lap and grumbled to myself. “Who’s texting me now?” It was Jeff Atkins.

Hey Addison Hawthore. Justin tells me you’re sick. I hope you aren’t trying to just avoid the dance.

Jeff Atkins. I would NEVER. I am definitely sick. Doesn’t seem like anything major though. Probably be at school Monday. I trust you will give me a very thorough report on all things Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker?

Glad to hear. Leah says feel better by the way. I’ll find you.

Tell her thank you. Now. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m almost done my book.

See you Monday Addison. I didn’t answer him. I texted Monty instead.

Don’t worry about coming over tonight. I should be fine by Sunday. I’ll see you Monday.

Sounds good.

The rest of the day I lounged in bed. My mum came in to check on me when she got home. Saturday was much of the same as Friday. I stayed in bed. I read another book. I slept. My illness was doing better. Not well enough to go to the dance, but I could handle toast which was a good sign. Justin called me while he was getting ready at Bryce’s.

“Hey Justin, what’s up?”

“Getting ready with Bryce and the guys.” I could hear the boys roughhousing in the background and Justin’s voice seemed far away. He must have had me on speaker.

“Hi boys.”

“Hey.” They called back.

“You stuck me with him tonight.”

“I’m sick Bryce. I would not be very much fun or help at the dance tonight.”

“You say you’re sick.” Bryce kidded back. He must be in a good mood.

“Would you like me to describe to you in detail what I spent my day doing yesterday?”

“Not really.”

“Didn’t think so. Now boys.”

“Yeah Addy?” Justin asked.

“I need all of your attention.”

“We’re listening.” Zach laughed.

“Oh no. Is she going to give us the lecture?”

“What lecture?” Anders asked.

“Yes. She is.” I said. “Please try to keep the shenanigans to a minimum.”

“But they’re fun.” Justin complained.

“So is not getting arrested. Do not add to the population. Remember that is often a permanent commitment. However, I do support the right to choose. Do not fight anyone tonight. And please, for the love of God, if you are going to drink, do not spike the punch bowl. Do not be that guy. And don’t be messy drunk. I want to hear no stories about messy drunk athletes come Monday. And another thing, do not drink and drive. If you need a ride, my mum is perfectly happy to go get you and take you home.”

“She took the fun out of a dance in two minutes.” Someone grumbled.

“That was not me taking the fun out. I’m more than okay with some shenanigans. I encourage some. Please have fun for me. I just don’t want you getting anyone pregnant. You’re all old enough to go to the drugstore or the corner store and buy yourselves some damn condoms. If I can go do it, so can you. As for the drinking and driving thing, a DUI is bad. Especially when you’re underage. My mum likes Justin. So she will gladly give someone a ride if they need.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Back up. You have condoms?” Bryce asked.

“I’m not the Virgin Mary.”

“Who could you possibly be having sex with?”

“None of your business. And I swear Bryce if you say Justin.” I laughed. I may have said too much.

“You’ll what?”

“She won’t anything. I will.” Justin laughed.

“Oh! One more thing. Don’t screw up Clay’s night.”

“Fine. We won’t. Gotta go, bye.” Bryce said. I could hear him grumbling before Justin hung up. “Wonder how far she’ll go with Jensen, hey Justy?” I rolled my eyes. How can he go from fun and not horrible to a disgusting pig in thirty seconds flat?

By Monday, I was back to feeling like myself. I grabbed a soft cream sweater from my closet and paired it with a floral skirt. A worn in pair of black combat boots and silver studs rounded out the look. I left my hair down to let it air dry without a weird kink in it. Bounding down the stairs, I smiled brightly at my parents. “Morning mum. Morning dad.”

“Morning sweetie.” My mum laughed brightly. My dad looked at me strangely.

“You’re awfully happy this morning.” My smile faltered slightly.

“Well, I’m not physically sick today. I think that warrants being happy. And it’s the last few days before winter break.” There was a voice in the back of my head I tried to ignore. I was happy. I plastered on a smile and grabbed a packet of oatmeal. Silently, I warmed my milk and stirred my breakfast. My parents were going over their schedules for the day. It was just about grade deadline for mum, so she had a stack of tests and papers in her office. Dad was already prepping for tax season in a couple of months. The office at work was stacked too, I’m sure.

“I’m going to take this to school.” I mumbled.

At school, I grabbed my cup of oatmeal to eat before class. “Peaches and cream. Interesting.”

“Jesus.” I gasped. “Morning Monty.”

“Morning Addy.” I began walking to my locker. He fell into step beside me.

“Did you need something?” I was sure people were watching us.

“No. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Okay? You know we are at school, right?”

“Yes. We have chemistry together. Is it really so bad to walk to your locker together?”

“I don’t know Monty.”

“For all anyone knows, I’m looking for Bryce. Who will probably be with Justin. Who will be at your locker.”

“I guess.” I sighed. I handed him my cup of oatmeal. “If you’re going to follow me to my locker, hold this while I get my spoon.” Pulling my bag around me, I took the spoon from the front pocket. Monty handed back my breakfast for me to eat while we walked.

“Peaches and cream oatmeal.” He muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Just making a mental note.” He smirked. I could see the smile behind his eyes though.

“It was on sale. It was this or plain and plain oatmeal is….”

“Plain.”

“Exactly.”

We made it to my locker, where it just so happened that Justin was waiting for me. With my least favorite white boy in tow. “Hey Justin. Walker.”

“Addy.” Bryce nodded.

“Feeling better?”

“Much. What did I miss Friday?”

“Not a whole lot.” Justin shrugged.

“A better question would be what did we miss?” Bryce asked, looking between Monty and I.

“I was on my way in when I saw her pull in. Figured I’d stop and tell her about what she missed in chem.”

“Which apparently wasn’t much.” I shrugged, scraping the last of my breakfast up. “I need to go to class. I expect a full report on what I missed at the dance at lunch.”

“Jeff will give you one. Don’t worry.” Justin laughed. “You’re awfully invested in Clay and Hannah.”

“I could have been invested in you and Hannah. But….” I looked at Bryce briefly. “Here we are.”

“I don’t think she put out for him, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Monty added.

“Gross.”

“Don’t think he would even know how.” Bryce laughed.

“And I’m leaving. Be nice boys.”

My classes were abuzz with talk of the Winter Formal. Mostly talking about what so and so wore, or who such and such was dancing with, or that one song Tony played that went like this or that. Clearly, I hadn’t missed much. Apparently, Jessica had had one or four too many nips off Bryce’s flask. I rolled my eyes internally. I mean, at least the boys weren’t messy. By the time lunch came, I was excited to hear about anything that wasn’t the dance. I knew, of course, that wouldn’t be the case. But still.

Sliding into my usual seat next to Justin, I placed my head on the table. “What’s eating you?” Scott asked.

“Nothing. I’m just bored of hearing about the dance.”

“It wasn’t that bad. And you haven’t heard Jeff’s retelling of Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker’s dance.”

“I want to hear about that. And then nothing else.” He nodded in understanding.

“Seriously though, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just had a long weekend is all. Guess it knocked more out of me than I thought.” I heard him hum. Jeff laughed jovially as he sat down. How can one man be so damn happy all the time?

“You missed quite the dance on Saturday, Addison.”

“It seems that way. Though, anything would be better than what I spent the weekend doing.”

“Fair. You’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. Just tired now.”

“I bet. Now. About the dance. More specifically, Clay and Hannah at the dance.”

“Yes. And then no more dance talk please.”

“Okay. So, Clay was being a wallflower.”

“As usual.”

“Yes. But he was sitting on the bleachers across the gym from Hannah. And he waved and nodded at her. When I told him to go, he was all ‘I can’t dance’ and so I was like ‘no one can dance. It’s a dance.’”

“Of course. No one likes the ones who can dance.”

“That’s what I said! He was awkward as hell and then they were cute. Danced around like idiots. Had the best time. Leah thought it was fantastic. I was waiting for the slow song that was coming. Or I hoped it was. And then it did. They were awkward again.”

“Right.” I adjusted my position and leaned in to listen to him better.

“Hey gu-.” Justin said, sitting down.

“Shh.” Charlie cut him off. “Jeff is telling a story.”

“They almost kissed.”

“Almost?”

“But then Jess….”

“Ah, this part of the story I know. She was messy. And Hannah cleaned it up.”

“Yes. But that was the dance. Good time.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” The boys around me spent the rest of lunch having their own conversations. Or giving me their own rundown of the dance. I tuned most of that out. It was hard to pretend not to notice the small glances Monty was sending my way. I sent a few his way too.

Christmas break, finals, and January flew by. Before any of us knew it, it was February. Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. Which, if you didn’t know from looking at the calendar, you certainly knew by the annual Oh My Dollar Valentines posters. There were little heart shaped boxes of chocolate at all the stores in town. The price of roses soared exponentially. I rolled my eyes as I passed one the first day of February. Justin tried to get me to buy one that day.

“No. I’m not interested in paying for cheer camp.”

“You’re always on my ass about school spirit.”

“Yeah. Because like it or not, you and your friends run this school. School spirit is not paying for the wonderful cause of sending the squad to cheer camp.”

“Fine.” He grinned mischievously at me. I watched him reach into his pocket as we passed one of the many tables lining the halls. “Two Dollar Valentines please.” My eyes widened.

“Justin. No.”

“Oh but it’ll be fun.” He laughed.

“I don’t care.” I couldn’t help but smile. He held it out to me, but I shook my head. “No way.”

“Suit yourself. I know you well enough to fill it out for you anyways.” Justin grinned and stuck his tongue out at me. You little shit. I reached out to grab the paper from him. I was going to return it. He held it above his head. I tried to grab it again and he waved his arm around.

“Give it to me.” I laughed.

“Nope. Get taller and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Well then I guess you won’t be getting the survey.” I huffed at him. He lowered his arms and I tried to take it again. He pushed my hand away and took off running. “It’ll be an exciting surprise.” Justin yelled as he ran.

“Justin Foley!” I yelled back. I love that boy. But sometimes I just want to…. Oh. What am I going to tell Monty?I sighed and turned around, intending to cut Justin off at his first class and steal the stupid survey from him. When I turned however, I collided with someone.

“We should really stop running into each other like this. People might think we are together or something.” Monty said.

“Or they’ll think you have a thing for me. Since you seem to be the one who always approaches me.”

“That is definitely a possibility.” He handed me my keys. “Might need these later. Wouldn’t want someone finding them and trying to use them.” He started to walk away backwards. I followed after him.

“I highly doubt someone would try to steal an ’09 Camry.”

“Never know.”

“Besides. It’s Evergreen County. Nothing ever happens here.”

“True. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yeah. I need to have some words with Justin Foley.”

“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“Maybe.” I rose a brow. Monty gave me a funny look. “I’ll explain later.”

At lunch I stopped Justin in the hall on the way to the cafeteria. Pulling him into an empty classroom, I locked the door. “I need that survey back Justin.”

“Why?”

“Because I have no interest in going on a valentines date with someone. You know I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“It could be fun.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Well, you have thirteen days to change your mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I submitted it on the way to second period.” I blinked at him. Did he just say…?

“You what?”

“I submitted it already. You’ll be receiving a list of ‘promising matches’ on Valentine’s Day.” Oh no. Throwing my head back, I sighed very heavily.

“I hate you.” I groaned.

“I love you too Addy.” Justin brushed past me to leave. “I’ll save you a seat?”

“Nope. That’s okay. I need a break from the testosterone today.”

“Okay.” As soon as he was gone, I texted Monty.

Hey. I need to talk to you. Can you meet me in the library?

Yeah. Bring a book?

Please. My locker was on the way, so I grabbed my books for the rest of the day.

There was a table free in the back of the room. I snagged it so Montgomery and I could have some privacy. He found me a little while later. I was pretending to be taking notes. In actuality, I was doodling and trying not to think about his reaction to Justin’s little stunt. Or reactions. “What’s going on?” He asked as he sat down.

“Hi to you too.”

“Sorry. Hi. What’s going on?”

“So don’t freak out.”

“Don’t start with don’t freak out and I won’t freak out.”

“Justin uh,” I paused.

“Justin? What?”

“Justin filled out and submitted a Dollar Valentine for me.” I quickly added, “I didn’t ask him to. He just bought it and did it. I was going to get it back from him at lunch, but he submitted it on his way to second.” I looked up. Monty was staring at me. And he was… what is he doing? And then his lip twitched. He was trying not to laugh. “What?”

“That’s what this is about? That is what was so urgent?”

“Yes?”

“The fact that Justin Foley filled out a Dollar Valentine for you?”

“Yes?” I was extremely confused.

“Addison. I really don’t care if he filled out a stupid survey for you. Are you going to go on the date?”

“Of course not!”

“Then I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.” I was still a little hesitant to say anything. “Oh. I should probably mention. I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Really?” He frowned in confusion.

“Yes. Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re a romantic.”

“I know. Which is why I hate Valentine’s Day. It’s the least romantic holiday. If you want to do something nice for me, or get me flowers, show me that you like me, do it on a random day. Not when you have to because it’s a Hallmark holiday.” I was careful not to say the word love. It may have been five months, which is a long time in high school, but we weren’t there yet.

“So, you’re a romantic who hates Valentine’s Day. Okay. Coffee date though?”

“Sure. But not because of what day it is.”

“No. Of course not.” Monty winked at me and then got up to leave. “Come find me after school.” I nodded.

“I’m going to stay here and make Justin sweat a little.”

The next couple of weeks passed slowly. I had forgiven Justin for filling out a Valentine for me a couple of days after he submitted it. After school on the thirteenth, I ran to Walplex to get ingredients for macarons. I browsed the aisles in search of almond flour and raspberry flavouring. Before I left the lot, I texted Monty. Turns out you’re worth it after all. He was busy with practice. I didn’t expect an answer any time soon.

At home, I unloaded my ingredients and put the carton of egg whites in a bowl of lukewarm water to come to room temperature without overheating them. “Hey Siri. Play State Champs on Spotify.”

“Playing State Champs.” I sang along quietly while I went about making my macarons. I said very kind and loving things to the batter aloud. In my head, I was swearing at them with words that would make a sailor blush. He really is worth it.

Dad came home while I was piping the batter onto the Silpat.

“Hi.”

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“Making macarons for my friends.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.” I shrugged. Dad scoffed and shook his head. “What?”

“Nothing.” He snapped. My face didn’t react. Inside, I felt the familiar sensation of becoming smaller and my insides closing in on themselves. Just ignore him. It’s okay. You’re okay.

“Okay.” I replied meekly. Instead of responding, he went and shut himself in the office. I sighed softly to myself and started on my macaron filling while the cookie batter sat on the tray.

Once my cookies were baked and cooled after dinner, I began to fill them. I picked a Wilton number 18 tip, a small star, and piped chocolate ganache around a raspberry on half of the cookies. When they were all filled, I topped each one. Then I carefully placed them in a container and grabbed several napkins. I also put five each in two disposable aluminum containers. One for Justin. And one for Montgomery. “They won’t notice if one is missing.” I muttered to myself. I took a bite, and it was perfect. Not hollow. Still had a chew to it. The outside was crisp. The slightly bittersweet filling complemented the sweetness of the cookie Perfect. I moaned softly. Setting the containers in the fridge so they didn’t melt overnight, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed.

The next morning it was Valentine’s Day. As much as I hated the holiday, I wasn’t opposed to dressing up. I dug around my closet for something to wear. I had a red circle skirt in mind. I just needed to find something to wear with it. “Hey Siri, what’s the weather today?”

“It’s currently cloudy and forty-five degrees. The high is expected to be fifty-two degrees and the low will be forty-five degrees.”

“Thank you.” Only fifty-two. I can wear a sweater. I pulled out a couple. The red cable knit was too match-y. The plain black was too plain. My last option was a black sweater with white hearts. This is nice. Shrugging it on, I pulled on a pair of black tights to cover my legs. Topping off the look with my favourite diamond studs and a simple charm bracelet, I checked the clock. I had time to paint my nails.

Soon, I was ready for school. I redid my nails in a nice nude shade. Knowing I was going on a date today, I went quite neutral on the makeup. I wanted my skirt and top to be the focus of my look. My parents were putting their breakfast away when I went downstairs. “Morning guys.”

“Morning sweetie.” We exchanged pleasantries with each other. “You look lovely Addison.”

“Thanks Mum. May not like today, but it’s an excuse to wear this sweater.”

“Very true.” She kissed my cheek gently, so her lipstick didn’t transfer.

“Why are there three containers in the fridge Addison?” Oh crap. Uh….

“Because one is for Justin, one is for my friends to share, and the other one is for me when my friends inevitably leave me with none.”

“I see.” He didn’t sound convinced. Or interested for that matter. When does he ever sound interested? He called after me as I was leaving. “Remember your mother and I are going out tonight for dinner and date night.”

“I know.” I smiled at him. “You kids have fun. I’ll see you in the morning.” I smiled brighter when he dipped my mom and kissed her. Gross but so cute.

“I love you, Margot.”

“I love you too, Brooks.” My mom replied.

My friends were waiting at my locker when I got there. “Hey guys. What’s going on?”

“Justin said you were bringing macarons to school.” Charlie grinned.

“Ah yes. You’re here for snacks. Of course. Hey Clay.”

“Hey Addy.” I shooed the boys away from my locker so I could put my bag in and take out the large container.

“These are for sharing.”

“We know. We can share.” Bryce nodded. Sure, you can. I rolled my eyes playfully. Then I set about passing each of the plethora of boys gathered around my locker a napkin. And then I gave them one macaron each. Jeff got two so he had one to give to Leah.

“Why does he get two?” Luke complained.

“Because he has a girlfriend. And I like her. Do any of you have girlfriends I like?” My eyes shifted to Monty minutely. He smirked softly and quirked a brow quickly. No one seemed to notice. “No? Then you get one for now. You can have more at lunch.” The bell rang. The boys began to disperse to their respective classes. I grabbed Justin and gave him his container.

“You’re the best.” He grinned and kissed my temple when he pulled me in for a hug.

“So are you. Now go get educated.” I texted Monty as I walked to class. I’ll give you yours after school.

I think I like being worth it. This is delicious. Why don’t you make these all the time?

Make them with me sometime. You’ll see.

On my way to lunch, I stopped to pick up my Dollar Valentine. “Hey Sheri.”

“Addison! Oh my gosh. When I heard you filled out a survey, I almost didn’t believe it.”

“Justin did it.”

“Oh. At least he knows you. I hope you get better matches than I did.”

“We’ll see.” I waited while she printed out my list. I glanced at it when she handed it to me.

Andrew B.

Cody K.

Daniel R.

Justin F.

Bryce W.

“Oh. My. God.” I laughed.

“What?”

“I matched with Justin. And Bryce Walker. How the hell?”

“Well, Justin knows you best. And he did the survey for you.” Sheri shrugged.

“Okay fair. But Bryce?”

“I don’t have an answer there.” We both laughed and I left to go to the cafeteria to join my friends. While I walked, I called Justin.

“Hey Addy, what’s up?”

“Hey Valentine. Have you picked up your matches yet?”

“I’m just looking at them now. I was just about to call you to see who you matched with.”

“Well, I think you’re my best match.”

“No one else up to your standards?” I was behind him now.

“Nope.” He turned and hung up. “But I have very important plans tonight, so I’ll need a rain check.”

“No problem. Your annual Bones marathon?” Sure.

“You know it. Next season is the last one.”

“Since I can’t take you out tonight, at least let me escort you to lunch.” He held his arm out to me. I grasped it dramatically.

“Such a gentleman.” We laughed hysterically.

Montgomery loved the macarons. We met at Monet’s after school to get coffee to go because it was crowded. Thankfully no one questioned us if they saw us. They were too wrapped up in their own dates to be concerned about us. Our date was wonderful. There was no chocolate in heart shaped boxes. There weren’t any overpriced roses. Just the two of us spending time together privately. Since my parents were out for the foreseeable future, he came back to my place. We hung out for a bit until he had to leave to avoid my parents. All in all, it was a pretty good Valentine’s Day. He found it hysterical that Justin and I were matched for Dollar Valentines.

Spring had sprung in Evergreen in mid-March. By the time April rolled around, flowers were in full bloom again and it was getting warmer and warmer. On a particularly nice Saturday, I woke up in an unusually good mood. I looked out the window and it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky. As I was sitting in bed, I looked around my room. My camera caught my eye on my bookshelf. Maybe today is the day I introduce Monty to my camera. I got ready but didn’t get dressed. It was still early for a Saturday. And I knew Monty was a big fan of sleep.

After an hour or so of putzing around in my room, I decided to call him. “Morning Addy.” He answered. His voice was still thick with sleep. I smiled.

“Good morning sunshine.” I heard him shifting in bed.

“You’re chipper this morning.”

“It’s nice out. It’s finally spring.”

“It is.” He smiled.

“I was wondering if you had plans today?” I eyed my camera.

“No, I don’t think so. What did you have in mind Bookworm?”

“I thought I could introduce you to my other hobby Casanova.”

He gasped dramatically. “You mean to tell me you like things other than books?”

“Yes.” I laughed. “What do you say?”

“I’m in. When and where?”

“The park by the docks? Say, one o’clock?”

“Sure thing.”

“Wear something comfortable.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye baby.”

My parents were in the office working. It was ten am on a Saturday. But it was getting close to exam time for my mom, so she was busy. Tax season was ending, so dad was busy. I opened my bedroom door and called into the house. “I’m going out later. I don’t know how long I’ll be out.”

“Okay honey. Have fun.”

“That’s nice.” I sighed and closed my door. After a quick shower I got dressed. I knew I would probably be moving around a lot today, so I picked a pair of leggings and a loose black t-shirt from American Eagle. I really should go get one of these in every colour. They’re the best shirts. I threw a random cardigan on my bed. It was later joined by my wallet and camera.

Sitting down to do my hair and makeup, I decided to just do a quick French braid. It kept the hair out of my face. I contemplated my makeup for a while. I still had plenty of time to spare. Pressing play on my Spotify and it picked up on a random Beartooth song. Artist Radios are always interesting. I hummed and tapped along with the music while I dug through my vanity. I didn’t have an excessive amount of makeup. Maybe I had a little too much lipstick, but it’s my favourite type of makeup. I kept everything but my lipstick fairly light and neutral. My skin was actually nice today so I could just use concealer and set it. With the rest of my makeup done, I dug through my slightly embarrassing amount of lipstick. “I’m feeling bold today. Red?” I asked myself in the mirror. “Red.” I nodded. I was ready to go now. I chucked the tube of lipstick in my wallet.

It was close to lunch so I texted Monty. Did you want me to make a couple of sandwiches or something?

Sure. I went downstairs and dug through the cheese drawer.

I have turkey, ham, and some other white meat. Possibly chicken?

Ham is okay.

Cheddar okay?

Yup. I made our sandwiches. I knew how he liked his sandwiches now. Placing them in the fridge, I ran upstairs for my camera, camera bag, and now my purse. Our lunch was set on top of my wallet. I threw an ice pack in to keep everything cold and food safe. A couple of snacks joined in before I grabbed my keys.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll see you later.” I called.

“Okay.” My parents called together.

At the park, I met Monty over by a tree. He was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt. No flannel. That took me by surprise. He looked damn good though. I stopped on the way over for a couple of coffees from Starbucks. “Hey Casanova.”

“Hey Bookworm.”

“Lunch now or later?”

“Now is good. I could eat.” I rolled my eyes. “What?”

“You’re always hungry.”

“I’m a growing boy.” He defended.

“If you grow anymore, you’ll give Dempsey a run for his money.”

“Never know. They say boys grow again around nineteen.”

“Oh god. I don’t know if I could handle you getting taller.” He laughed.

“Might have to. Never know.” I looked down to hide my blush. I didn’t read into what he said. He was right. You never knew where you could end up. We talked quietly while we ate. Monty regaled me with stories of the baseball game I “missed” yesterday.

“Sounds like a nail biter.” I smiled.

“You don’t like baseball, do you?”

“No.” I replied quickly.

“That mean you’ll never come to a game?”

“Quite possibly. I will go to as many football games as I can though.”

“Deal. Now. What did you want to show me?”

“This.” I said as a pulled my camera out of the bag.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I told you I like photography.”

“I remember. I’m just surprised it took you this long to show it to me.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“Okay. I won’t question you.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not Tyler. I keep my photography to when people know about it and can see it.”

“I kind of figured.” I spent some time showing him my camera. It was the first thing I had spent any big amount of money on. I got it a few years ago. I saved up birthday and Christmas money. I never really got an allowance so that’s what I had to work with. I looked out at the water and stood up. Holding my hand out to my boyfriend, I nodded in the direction of the dock.

“Come on.” Montgomery took my hand and we walked to the railing. I examined the water for a few moments quietly. Then I lifted my camera and started shooting. It was beautiful. “It’s nicer at sunset. But daytime shoots are so fun.” I could feel him watching me. A bird was flying close by, so I snapped a picture. “It’s beautiful.” I said softly.

“Very beautiful.”

We wandered around the park together for a few hours. Occasionally we would stop to sit and just people watch. During one of these stops I noticed Monty had turned to look out over the water. The way the light was hitting his face was perfect. I quickly snapped a photo. I wanted to preserve the peaceful look on his face forever. Lord knows the boy could use some peace. He turned to me when he heard the click of the camera. Luckily it didn’t ruin the shot. He was smiling. I couldn’t help myself. I took a quick scan of the area and kissed him. When we pulled away, he quickly wiped the lipstick off. I laughed and dug around in my purse for a makeup wipe. “Here. Use this.”

“Thanks.” I touched up my lipstick. While I was doing that, he took my camera from my lap and snapped a photo of his own. “I’m not very good at this, so don’t be shocked if it comes out crappy.”

“I’m sure it’s great. Here, let me see.” He handed it back. I scrolled to the photo. It was really nice. “This is great Monty.” He nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead, he threw his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in close to him. I rested my head on his shoulder. Turning the camera around, I snapped a picture of the two of us. It wasn’t exactly a candid, but it was as close as you could get with a selfie. We called it a night around six o’clock. He had to get home for dinner. I had some homework to do. I also wanted to get our photos transferred as soon as possible.

I walked into the house smiling to myself. Today had been a really great day. I felt good. “What the hell is all over your face?” My dad asked. Not a hello. No other acknowledgement.

“What do you mean?” I reached up to touch my face. Is there something on my face?

“You really caked it on today, didn’t you?” Oh. My makeup. I’d forgotten that he didn’t see me before I left.

“I put on a little makeup. I’m trying to use up a red lipstick.” I shrugged. The small feeling had begun to grow again.

“It makes you look like a prostitute.” Wow. That escalated quickly. My good mood vanished. I set my face. I wouldn’t let him see that he had hurt me.

“Thanks Dad. That was my goal today actually.”

“Don’t take that kind of tone with me, young lady.”

“Okay, whatever. Where’s Mum?”

“At the grocery store.”

“Okay. I’ll be upstairs.”

“Take off the paint while you’re up there.” He called after me.

When I reached my room, I closed the door and slid down it. Not wanting him to know I was crying I went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. I curled up on my bed and sobbed into the towel. I didn’t care that there would be makeup stains on it. My phone buzzed on the floor. Sitting up, I stood to grab it. It was Monty. I want to see those photos baby.

Okay. I’ll send them over when I’m done.

Looking forward to it.

Yeah.

If I forgot to say, you looked pretty today.

Thanks. I wasn’t sure I believed him after what my dad said.

Any other mystery hobbies you want to show me?

Don’t think so.

Not even the art of knitting?

Maybe.

You okay Addy?

Yeah. Just tired.

Okay. I’ll talk to you later then.

Sure. I didn’t answer his next text. It was too much effort to do it now. I just wanted to lay in bed and be sad.

#can't go back #montgomery de la cruz #monty de la cruz #monty x oc #monty imagine #monty x reader #montgomery de la cruz x oc #montgomery de la cruz imagine #montgomery de la cruz x reader #13 reasons why #13rw #13 rw #Thirteen Reasons Why #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #creative writing #writeblr

21 notes · View notes

hutchhitched · 4 years

Text

Only One K

Newly married, Katniss and Peeta honeymoon in a remote cabin where no one can hear how happy they make each other. When an unexpected thunderstorm forces them inside for the day, Katniss suggests filling the time with a game of Scrabble. She decides to get a little creative with her spelling when there’s only one K tile.

Written for @promptsinpanem’s 15 Days to Finish Your Fic (For Kika) event

Rating: E

Author’s note: Back in July 2014, I was dreading a family event, but I was distracted by a wonderful gift—a sexy story sent through anon asks. When I shared my delight over the kind gesture with @authoresskika, she admitted she’d written it for me. It’s a wonderful example of Kika’s generosity and caring nature that she took her time to make my day better with her writing. As I struggled to decide what to write for this challenge, I remembered her story and decided to draft its prequel. While this can stand on its own, I suggest you read her story first.

Farewell, Kika! There really is only one you.

______________

“I’m gonna come,” Katniss pants, her voice rising with every word. “Peeta, I’m gonna come.”

Her husband doesn’t answer. His eyes are closed, head thrown back as he thrusts upward to meet the frantic rocking of her hips. His jaw flexes and so do his pecs as she bounces up and down on his cock. His fingers dig into her hips, helping guide her as she rides him. Curls are plastered to his forehead with sweat, and she tosses her head impatiently as her long hair sticks to her neck and face. She should have left it in a braid, but Peeta had unraveled it with such tenderness the night before she hadn’t wanted to protest at the time.

His voice is wrecked when he groans her name. With great effort, he blinks his eyes open to catch her gaze, and electricity shoots through her at the intimacy. His skin, slick with sweat, glistens in the beams of light streaming through the window. His hips slide against her inner thighs, and she can’t help but thrill at the power in his muscular frame. A rhythmic smack of the headboard against the wall matches that of their bodies pounding against each other. Both ring in her ears. It’s erotic and dirty and so, so good.

Heat pools in her stomach, and she gasps for breath. He guides her fingers to her clit and joins her with varied speeds and concentric circles. Captivated by the way the tip of his tongue peeks between his plump pink lips, she matches it with her own. Hers feel swollen from the amount of use they’ve gotten over the past few days, but that’s to be expected. They are on their honeymoon, after all.

“Peeta. Oh! Yeah. Yeah! Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhh.” The third iteration slurs into a heated groan as her body tips over the edge into climax. Climaxes. So many climaxes in the past few days, and they just keep getting better.

“Don’t stop,” he grunts through gritted teeth when she slows. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Breathless, she whines, “I can’t— I—”

He pushes himself to sitting and pulls her torso against his chest. Cradling her cheek in his palm, he kisses her fiercely before growling, “You can.”

And then she’s moving again as he wraps her legs around his waist and tilts her back until the angle of his cock rubs her just the right way and makes her want to scream. She’s never understood the term power bottom, but she does now. She’s at his mercy as he fucks into her, his biceps bulging, bending her back and biting her nipples. A shout rips from her, unbidden when his teeth clench a little too hard.

Peeta stiffens beneath her and releases. Shouts and moans and curses and squelches and slapping skin and a million other sounds fill the room. She writhes against him and then crests again. He strokes her through it until they collapse into a tangle of limbs. Unable to move, she floats, euphoric and detached, and enjoys the afterglow.

It’s a while before either of them is coherent. Peeta nuzzles her neck with open-mouthed kisses and little nibbles that occasionally have the sting of a full bite. His hands roam her bare skin, and she’s loath to move. Not when he’s still inside her, cradling her to his chest. Her new husband, Peeta Mellark, the love of her life.

Eventually, she has to shift. Stretching, she grimaces at the feel of him slipping from her. Fluid trickles down her inner thigh as she pulls off to roll onto her side. He palms her, sliding his fingers in their combined ejaculate. He paints her stomach with the moisture before licking his fingers clean. It’s so lewd, she squirms to the far side of the bed. She needs a break before another round, and what he’s doing is a definite turn on in spite of her fatigue.

“Good morning,” he murmurs and rolls over to slide back against her. “That was quite a wakeup call.

“I’m so gross,” she complains and pushes at his hand, but he continues to run his fingers through the wetness.

“I don’t think you’re gross. In fact, I think you’re just right. Covered in my come. It sliding out of you and down your legs. All waxed and smooth except for that sexy little runway strip that’s soaking wet. Open for me but tight inside. Clenching around me. Milking me dry.”

The words melt like warm butter and run down her spine until she’s puddled against him, desperate for his touch, but way too oversensitive. He dips his hand between her legs again and rubs featherlight circles on her sensitive skin. His tongue traces her neck and jawline until she whimpers and jerks away from him.

“You know,” she grumbles, “when we agreed on a remote cabin in a national park for our honeymoon, I kind of thought we might actually see some of the scenery.”

He chuckles as his mouth closes over her nipple. “That was silly,” he chided. “My plan was always to get you naked and keep you that way as long as possible.”

“Mission accomplished.”

“Not if you’re planning to put on clothes.”

“Peeta, I need a shower.”

“No. No shower.”

“I’m filthy,” she insists, even though her resolve weakens by the second.

“I’ll clean you up.”

“What do you—”

She cuts off in a strangled groan as he slides down her body and buries his face in her pussy. He sucks and licks, alternating fast flicks of his tongue with long, slow sucks of her clit into his mouth. She gives in, losing herself to the feel of him burrowing against her and his tongue plunging inside deeper and deeper. She’s made entirely of sensation. There are no thoughts, no cares in the world, nothing outside of this moment and her husband making love to her in every conceivable way.

Peeta’s a wonderful lover—considerate, passionate, flexible, sculpted, and generous. She’s luckier than she deserves, but she’s enormously grateful he chose her. Since she opened her heart, she’s never doubted that she’s always been it for him since the moment he saw her. It took her longer to fall in love, but that doesn’t mean her fervor is any less real. She feels more like herself when she’s with him than any other time. Sex with him could inspire sonnets if she had the same gift of words he does.

She wrings herself out on him multiple times over the next several hours. He’s insatiable, and she’s powerless to resist him. They stumble to the kitchen for sustenance and end up sprawled on the table. He presses her to the wall in the shower and bends her over the couch when they try to watch a movie. Later, in bed, she rolls over to face him, so exhausted her eyelids droop and her words slur.

“Gotta go outside house ’morrow,” she insists, both drunk and high on endorphins. A lazy smile spreads across his handsome face at her garbled speech, but she forces out her rationale. “Can’t do marathon day of sex. Need fresh air. Outdoors. Grass. Trees. Sky. Sunsets. Stars.”

“I’ll make you see stars,” he teases and kisses the tip of her nose.

“’M serious,” she hums. Blinking her eyes rapidly at him in an over-exaggerated attempt at flirting (at least she thinks she is), she begs, “Take me out, Peeta. See the world thingy.”

His lips meet hers in a soft kiss. “Whatever you want. I’m yours, you know. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, inside and outside.”

“Don’t ’member that part o’ the vows,” she argues sleepily.

“You were probably distracted by my good looks.”

“Maybe,” she sighs and sinks into the mattress. “T’morrow. Outside. No sexing. Tired.”

“Well, I’ll let you in on a secret,” he whispers in her ear.

“Hmmm?”

“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

A tired giggle bursts from her, and she manages to ask, “Anytime?” She drifts into darkness as his answer drops from his lips.

It’s still dark when she opens her eyes.

Katniss blinks awake as a rumble of thunder shakes the cabin. It’s dark as midnight. Peeta snuffles softly in his sleep, his even breathing a salve to being shaken from her slumber. She slips from under her husband’s arm and stumbles to the bathroom, so she can pop her birth control pill and rinse her mouth with mouthwash. A flash of lightning startles her, and she hurries back to the bed and tugs the sheets back over her. Cuddling into Peeta’s warm body, she tenses when he pokes against her. It must be morning, because there’s a lot of wood. Struck with inspiration, she flips the sheet to the other side of the bed and grabs the bottle of lube off the nightstand. Slicking up her palm, she grasps him and pumps.

He grunts and rolls onto his back, inadvertently giving her better access. She rubs her thumb over the head and squeezes as she pumps. His sleepy response melts her heart. His hips twitch until he’s fucking into her hand and releasing desperate noises that sound remarkably like begging.

She rains kisses over his face and murmurs against his lips, “Peeta, are you awake?”

His answer is a broken sob and thrusting hips. Determined to make him feel even better, she leans down and takes him in her mouth. His breath catches and then rips from him. She sucks in her cheeks and catches her front teeth on his slit. Bobbing her head, she slobbers until her spit covers him and runs over her fist.

“Sweetheart. Oh, fuck!”

And then he’s coming, his cock pulsing in her mouth and his come spurting against the back of her throat. He’s bitter on her taste buds, but she slurps greedily, intent on lapping up everything he gives her. He whines high in the back of his throat until he softens with a sated groan.

“Good morning,” she says with a satisfied smirk. “Sleep well?”

“Mmmm,” he agrees with a dopey grin. “Woke up better. Thought you wanted a sex break today. You didn’t need to get me off to get me up.”

“Just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Sweetheart, you know I lean left—both politically and anatomically,” he teases and leans in for a kiss. It turns obscene so quickly her head spins. Only a particularly loud clash of thunder and burst of lightning snaps them apart. She’s still catching her breath when the rain starts, softly at first and then opening into a torrential downpour.

“We were supposed to go outside today!” she wails.

“Ah, honey,” he teases, a twinkle belying his insincerity. “Looks like the good Lord wants us to stay naked and have more sex.”

“Pretty sure the good Lord wants us to get dressed and play Scrabble.”

Peeta snorts before falling onto his back and shaking with laughter. When he’s finally able to breathe, he runs his fingers through his messy curls and acquiesces.

“I like my plan better, but I’ll play Scrabble if you want to.”

Katniss squeals and smacks away his hand that had managed to find its way to her breasts. Shaking her head, she stipulates, “Breakfast first, lover boy, and then board games. We’ve burned so many calories the past few days, I’ve lost a clothing size. I mean, I really like sexing you up, but damn. I need the break.”

Peeta grins at her and leans up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself, but the second you say the word, I’m gonna be inside you again so fast…”

“Kinky,” she laughs as she rolls to her feet. “I’m gonna shower. Do not follow me with your erection. I’ll only disappoint it.”

“Kika? What’s that?”

“I said, ‘kinky,’ weirdo.”

“Calling me names doesn’t make me any less horny!” he hollers after her as she shuts the door and steps under the warm spray.

She takes her time, soaping her hair and body with a lovesick grin on her face. She still has trouble accepting that Peeta adores her as much as he does. He was the only man she knew patient enough to wait for her to work through her reluctance to be intimate with anyone after her father died, and his constant kindness and willingness to be whatever she needed during high school and college had finally won her over. Now, almost thirty and newly married, she’s happier than she’s ever been. Even so, it still takes an inordinate amount of effort to push back the nagging thoughts that she doesn’t deserve any of it.

“He loves me,” she insists to the empty room, “and I love him. I deserve to be happy.”

“Breakfast’s ready. Come and get it. Dress is optional,” Peeta calls through the closed door.

“Coming!”

She switches off the water and quickly plaits her hair into a wet braid. She hesitates for only a second before tossing her towel onto a rack and walking into the kitchen completely naked. His back is to her when she enters, so she crowds up to him and wraps her arms around his waist.

“Smells good,” she murmurs into his warm skin. “Thanks for cooking.”

He turns to wrap his arm around her shoulder and tug her to his side and freezes. His eyes widen, and his eyes follow a trickle of water that escapes the tip of her braid and glistens on her breast.

“You clean up nice,” he coughs. “Coffee?”

Peeta keeps his word and lets her eat. He watches her as she arches her back and crosses and uncrosses her legs repeatedly. Pancakes have never been so sexy as she makes a show of enjoying every bite of fluffy goodness, and if she allows a sticky bit of syrup to cling to her lips so she can lick it off with the very tip of her tongue, well, that’s just payback for him sexing her up so hard she needs a lot of food to recover. By the time she finishes, Peeta’s given up all pretense of eating and is openly leering at her. He adjusts himself as she sips the last little bit of her coffee and appraises him.

“Scrabble?”

“I can think of better things to do.”

“Well, yes, I’m sure you can, but you promised me board games, darling husband. It’s time.”

“Oh, come on,” he protests, but she rises and waltzes to the couch. She exaggerates the swing of her hips just to torment him a little more.

“Peeta Mellark, we’ve done it on every surface of this cabin. I’d like to beat your butt in word games, now, please.”

“What about the car? We haven’t done it there yet.”

“Car sex? Really? That sounds so uncomfortable.”

“Not if you do it right,” he grumbles and runs his hand down her side and along her flank.

“It would take a lot to get me in the mood in a car.”

“Well, that’s not going to stop me from trying.”

“You’re incorrigible. Doesn’t your sex drive ever take a rest? Come on. Help me set up.”

“You’re just going to sit there naked and distract me so you can win, aren’t you?”

“Obviously.”

“Completely unfair,” he grumbles as he grabs tiles and arranges them in a row.

“So whiny. Remind me why I love you,” she teases, her smirk widening at his pout.

“For my large…vocabulary.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Shhh,” he hisses and places his first word.

They play back and forth for a while, and she accumulates more and more points. When she draws a K and Y to add to her tiles, she decides her hundred-point lead is enough. Besides, it’s weird playing scrabble naked when her husband’s sporting a stiffy in his pajama pants.

Peeta furrows his brow as he examines her play. “K-I-N-C-Y? Uh, challenge. That’s not a real word.”

She curses the board game for limiting the tiles to only one K. How else is she supposed to get her point across subtly?

“It’s hard.”

He flushes and presses his palm to his crotch. “You’re naked! It’s not my fault,” he protests. “You can’t expect me to concentrate when you’re sitting there like that.” He waves his hand at her, and she grins.

“I meant, the C.”

“What?”

“Read the word with a hard C.”

Confused, he looks at it again and experiments with different pronunciations. “Ken-see? Kin-sigh? Kin— I don’t get it.”

“Read it like a K.”

“Kinky? Oh… That’s not how you spell it, though.”

“True, but there’s only one K in Scrabble, and that’s my word.”

“Your word?”

Katniss sighs heavily. If she didn’t know how hard he’d been trying to get her back into bed, she’d swear he was being deliberately obtuse. Standing, she crosses to Peeta and straddles his lap before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “You told me the second I said the word you’d be inside me again. You’re late. A lot of seconds have passed. Kinky was my word, remember?”

She yelps as he shoves her onto the coffee table. Scrabble tiles press into her back as he shucks his pants. He’s on her in seconds, his mouth devouring hers as he opens her with probing fingers and searing kisses. When they finish, her husband traces a message on her chest and then spells it out with tiles. There are plenty of tiles to spell “I love you.”

#15days #promptsinpanem #everlark #authoresskika #krousewrites #in memoriam

142 notes · View notes

translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 34

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 34

The early morning sunlight shone diagonally into the room, casting a bright yellow glare onto the back of his eyelids. Lin Yan ripped off the blanket. He rolled out of bed in a daze, but his legs gave out and he fell. He sat on the bedside, taking deep breaths.

His whole body hurt like it had been run over by a cart. Every muscle was screaming. Lin Yan shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the hangover dizziness, tugging at the blanket that had half-fallen down. The place where Xiao Yu had slept was already empty, and a shallow depression in the bed reminded him of the absurdity of last night's drinking.

Lin Yan roughly tapped his temple. For the first time, he wanted to wipe away his drunken memory but the more he tried to forget, the more sober he became. Even the ghost's watching gaze was still present in his mind. His velvety black eyes looked lost while he whispered his name and slammed into him. It was like his body was still pressed against him, their hearts intertwining as one.

He slept with someone he has to spend 24 hours a day with. How is this going to end?

Idiot, Lin Yan cursed. He put on a long T-shirt meant for playing basketball and walked towards the wall. When he heard Xiao Yu calling him, Lin Yan didn't even have the courage to turn around and answer him. He stumbled into the bathroom with his head down and locked the door behind him.

The person looking back at him in the mirror had red eyes, swollen cheeks, and a series of blue and purple hickeys that stretched from the bottom of his neck to his collarbone. Lin Yan tugged the collar of his T-shirt down. When he saw the miserable state of his chest, he hastily turned his head. He turned on the shower to wash his body. The water rained onto his face. Everything he did, and didn't, want to see blurred. The sensitive parts of his body were stimulated by the hot water, causing the corner of Lin Yan's mouth to twitch in discomfort. Still gritting his teeth, he roughly scrubbed his body.

He couldn't wait for this layer of skin to eventually flake off.

Lin Yan dried his hair and wiped a hand across the foggy mirror. It still showed a beautiful and clean face. The stand-up collar T-shirt just covered the marks on the neck. Lin Yan propped himself up on the sink and smiled miserably at the man in the mirror.

Compared to love, carnal desire is much simpler. A meal, a bottle of wine, and anything can happen. You don’t even need to take off your clothes. Do the deed, forget about it, take a shower and continue on like nothing happened. Who needs to bring up the unpleasantness of last night anyway?

He can't succumb to a paranoid ghost. The street was full of decent people. Who knows what animal opened its thighs last night, and which corner it will live in the next night?

The tinkling sound of cups and plates came from the kitchen and passed through the messy living room. The moment the sliding door opened, Lin Yan was stunned by the sight in front of him, and he didn't move for a long time.

The light golden sunlight fell on the ground. The suave gentleman with messy sideburns and a pair of slender eyebrows carefully rinsed a frozen fish under the tap. Lin Yan bought it a few days ago and threw it in the freezer and forgot to take it out. It was freezer burnt. The fish's eyes were covered with a layer of frost, its mouth wide open, and the head that peeked out from his hands was a bit dull. The saucepan was placed on the burner, and the water was almost at a boil. Several pieces of ginger and green onions were diced into various-sized pieces on the chopping board. He had forgotten to peel the ginger, the clueless blockhead.

Hearing the movement at the door, Xiao Yu turned his head. A smile was hidden in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth were softly curved upwards: "You're awake. You're not going to sleep some more?"

". . . I'm too nauseous to sleep." Lin Yan's face burned. Avoiding his eyes, he walked over to turn off the tap. "What are you doing with this thing? Are you hungry?"

It took everything in him to pretend to stay calm: "I thought you didn't need to eat."

"I wanted to make breakfast for you." Xiao Yu pointed to the fish in the sink. "It's too frozen."

"You need to defrost it in the microwave, so it won't be melted in one day." Lin Yan glanced at the scattered green onion and ginger on the chopping board. "Besides, no one makes fish this early in the morning. It's too heavy."

Xiao Yu stood still in front of the sink, awkwardly holding the fish's tail: ". . . This is all I know how to make."

Lin Yan took out a frying pan and moved the saucepan off the burner: "I can't eat this stuff with an upset stomach. Don't worry about it. I'll just cook something myself to eat."

"What do you want to eat? Let me try." Xiao Yu said as he went to look through the refrigerator. He had just opened it slightly before Lin Yan shut it, his voice unconsciously raised: "I said don't worry about it. Don't act like this is your house. Look at what my living room already looks like. Who knows what might happen to the kitchen later on. Young Master Xiao has probably never had to lift a finger in his life. I don't need your help."

When he spoke, he unconsciously put more emphasis on the 'my', deliberately excluding him, leaving no room for argument.

A one-night stand or something seemed too far-fetched for him, but he couldn't have sex and expect to now be fully devoted to each other. The person opposite him was stunned. His eyes, full of expectation, darkened. He was a bit at a loss holding the fish, as if he had done something wrong, and didn't know what to do.

Lin Yan didn't dare to look at him. He struggled to take out the eggs and milk from the refrigerator. He poured the oil into the frying pan and cracked open the eggs with two clicks. Once he turned around, Xiao Yu was still standing in the same spot, the frozen fish turning his fingers red. He wasn't going to leave or stay. He lowered his eyes and glanced back at him occasionally as if he was afraid of getting in trouble.

Lin Yan didn't say anything. He took out a spatula and flipped the fried egg over. The pain in his back was still terrible. Every step he took was torturous. The ghost noticed his unnatural stance. After standing behind him for a while, he hesitantly put down the fish. He wrapped himself around him in an attempt at a comforting hug. He put his chin on Lin Yan's shoulder. He felt like a mass of cold air like he had forgotten to close the refrigerator door.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Xiao Yu's tone was softer than ever before. "I'll be gentler next time."

Lin Yan took a deep breath. Xiao Yu's touch brought back the memories of last night. He had fully submitted himself to the ghost. The uncontrollable debauchery and the sense of shame of being exposed on the spot made him antsy. He interrupted him, expressionless: "There won't be a next time. I was drunk last night. Let's pretend it never happened. What's done is done, okay?"

The person behind him trembled, and the arms around him loosened.

Lin Yan couldn't bear it and concealed it by fiddling with the fried egg in the pan: "You can't help with this. Find me some nausea medicine. It's in the bedroom drawer."

Xiao Yu pondered for a moment, then asked him in a low voice: "What does the nausea medicine . . . look like?"

"You don't know anything." Lin Yan sighed. He put the spatula down. He turned around, suppressing the evil fire in his heart: "Please leave. I'm in a bad mood. I don't have time to say something nice to make you happy."

Xiao Yu was silent and slowly let go of him. He raised a pair of dark eyes to stare at Lin Yan. Something he couldn't understand floated in his eyes, like sadness. He gave him a once-over from head to toe. He turned his head and gently saying: "Lin Yan, don't play with me."

When he turned around, the ghost had already disappeared. Lin Yan slowly put the fried egg on the plate. He pressed through the pain in his stomach and began to eat. The touch of the embrace seemed to linger on his body. He subconsciously shook his shoulders, his face wooden.

Don't play with me? Lin Yan recalled the ghost's words with a look in his eyes. This proud young man had rushed out of the unknown and forcibly occupied his home, his bed, his space, his time and his . . . his thigh muscles twitched. Lin Yan slowly rubbed his hands along his thighs. Finally, he put down his chopsticks and buried his face in the palms of his hands and rubbed hard, unconsciously turning his eyes red. In the end, who was playing with who?

Meat is most delicious with the blood. The more debaucherous the lust, the more enjoyable it'll be. Sex could be dirty, but love couldn't. Love was the purest thing, there was no room for filth. The ridiculous night was over. The unpredictable ghost could be forgotten, but the gentle side of the ghost forced him to remember some feelings that had nothing to do with lust. The softest corner of his heart was gently tugged. Lin took a bit of his egg, his throat choked up with inexplicable sorrow and grief.

Maybe he was disgusted with himself for losing himself last night, but what difference does it make? Lin Yan silently thought. Some things can't be taken back.

After washing the dishes, he called Professor Folder's secretary to confirm the meeting time. The secretary gave him the address of the institute, and, after finalizing the meeting, Lin Yan cleaned up the kitchen. A small pile of chopped green onions and ginger was still on the chopping board. The knifework was clumsy, but he had been serious about it. Lin Yan used a knife to brush them off the board. Just as he was about to throw them away, he suddenly hesitated. He found a small bowl and put it in the refrigerator freezer.

That guy should have found a place to get angry. Lin Yan sighed, limped and held the wall to walk outside. One thing after another left him completely exhausted. He knew it was wrong to take it out on him, but he just couldn't find the energy to comfort the stubborn ghost. It was almost time for his appointment. Lin Yan packed his pen and notebook into his sports bag. When he walked into the living room, he was shocked. Xiao Yu was picking up things on the floor with his back facing him. When he heard Lin Yan come in, he turned around, holding several girl's trinkets, hair clips, dolls, leather coin purses, and a few photos that could barely be seen.

"These can still be used. Take them." Xiao Yu hung his head cautiously: "I can't compensate you for the rest. I don't have the money you use, and you took everything I had."

The sunlight came in from the half-opened curtains. The ghost stood helplessly in the wind-swept living room, bowing his head as a peace offering, lowering his stature and waiting to be forgiven.

Lin Yan couldn't say a word. He stood there for a long time, and when he opened his mouth, his voice became mute: "What are you doing this early in the morning? Are you trying to make me feel bad?" He found a garbage bag to put them in, harshly tying the bag. "I don't even want them anymore."

He dragged Xiao Yu into the bedroom and opened the paper bags that were piled up in the corner. The clothes he bought in Shenjiayuan last time were hung in the closet. He had even kept the auspicious mortuary clothes, carefully ironed out and hung on clothing hangers. The full cabinet was stuffed with two people's things, almost giving a sense of 'home'.

"Satisfied? Come over and I'll help you comb your hair." Lin Yan tugged Xiao Yu's sleeve: "I made an appointment to ask about you at the research institute today. We're going to be late."

All the words in the world couldn’t compare to the warmth of "we". Lin Yan held Xiao Yu's long, silky hair. The two figures were reflected in the mirror. White fabric draped over the top. The pearwood dresser was decorated with gold inlay. The pearly surface was like the white of a flower. A screen behind them covered in peony flowers and birds was complex and magnificent; a dazzling sight

Lin Yan satisfactorily rolled a bun with a bone hairpin. The bangs on his forehead fell down. His features were as sharp as a knife, with sharp eyebrows and starry eyes. He couldn't help but squeeze his face jokingly: "Young Master looks really handsome. How are you going to pay for your manservant?" He muttered: "Without money, you have to sleep with me at night. What a shame."

As he spoke, he put his hand on Xiao Yu's shoulder. Cold fingers moved up to caress the back of his hand, carefully tracing the bones in his fingers, like dealing with a treasure made of jade.

"I know all that. I just can't bear to let you go." Xiao Yu spoke very lightly.

"What?" Lin Yan didn't hear him clearly.

"Nothing." Xiao Yu said softly.

-------------

The research institute where the professor worked was built inside a large complex. It took a long time to find the side road from the main road. The low bungalows were shaded by the century-old trees. There were round tables and wicker chairs on the open balcony of the building, and occasionally they could see gray-haired foreigners sitting together drinking tea.

After greeting the entrance guard, Lin Yan drove his car into the back parking lot with ease and stopped in front of a modest gray bungalow. The 90s-style office didn't have a separate door, two steps leading into the dark and dreary building. Standing in the yard was a middle-aged man in work clothes, holding a small piece of paper to double-check if it matched Lin Yan's car license plate. When he saw that everything matched, he smiled honestly and greeted Lin Yan and opened the door very courteously.

"Lin, welcome. My name is Chen." The middle-aged man shook enthusiastically shook Lin Yan's hand. "The professor has arranged everything."

"Brother Chen." Lin Yan said respectfully.

"Come, come. It's bright outside. Come inside and see. Two days ago, I was on a business trip. Hey, comrade, you know, we have to travel every day in this line of work. We started going through the files as soon as we got back. Come in and find out if we have what you need."

The middle-aged man said as he took Lin Yan into the building. He was actually very young when he looked at him up close. He had a rugged look because he worked in areas with harsh UV rays. His eyes were plain and his skin was tanned and blistered. A mouthful of white teeth was revealed when he spoke. This comrade reminded Lin Yan of the old leader with a ceramic vase in front of him in the "Reform and Opening*" poster. The person in front of him's appearance suddenly started to warp in his mind. His shirt was tucked in his black pants and a Zhongshan suit was draped over him. He was gesticulating towards the door. A pair of large hands with prominent knuckles and bones was a common characteristic of the working people.

*(T/N: "Reform and Opening" policy is the Chinese economic reforms that went into place after Mao Zedong's death in China and pursued by Deng Xiaoping)

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #danmei novel #danmei #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi

13 notes · View notes

cynic-spirit · 3 years

Text

The Poem Series (31) Women who sleep on stones– John Wick (Mature warning **)

ALL PREVIOUS PARTS HERE

Diana was very pleased that their first time of this had turned out so well, and actually amazed that she was able to push him as far as she did. The fact that she was able to get him to worship her stiletto heels, and introduce the resistance into their lovemaking on their first date, meant that her plan for him was definitely ahead of schedule. She was very satisfied with the oral skills he had exhibited, at giving her pleasure with his mouth. While he didn’t realize it, at the time, she also showed him that the only way he would ever have sex with me was with him, when she takes the role, would be on the bottom restrained, while she called the shots. All in all, it was a very successful experience with John. Now it was time to move onto the next phase of her plan.

In preparation this, Diana made sure that she put on an outfit that would once again blow him away. She donned a black corset, short black leather skirt, black nylons and stiletto heels. She was sure that when he saw her, he’d forget about dinner, and have other things on his mind. Sure enough, at 7 PM exactly, while she was on the phone with one of my girlfriends, John was there staring at her being his very punctual self. She was very glad to see that he had brought her flowers once again. In his hands he held a dozen beautiful roses. She thanked him for the flowers, as she invited him into the living room. “God, you look beautiful!”, he said, as his eyes wandered up and down her body. She was pleased that her outfit had the proper effect on him.

She directed him to a bottle of wine which was chilling on the table. “Why don’t you open the wine, and pour a glass for each of us, while I put these flowers in a Vase”. She arranged his flowers in a vase and put them on the kitchen table, where she had already placed the dinner settings for them. John could not stop commenting how much he enjoyed the Chicken Marsala and Linguine. Throughout dinner, they chatted about random things. It was amusing however, to see him try to act normal while his eyes kept wandering to the top of her breasts which were peeking out of the corset. Finally, when dinner was finished, Diana rose to clear the table, and he immediately jumped up to help her. As they rinsed off the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, she told him that she appreciated the fact that he was helping me. “I’ll consider that later”, was all she said, and it was obvious that John had no idea what she meant at that point. Done with the kitchen duties, she suggested that they both retire to the couch in the living room. “Bring the wine and our glasses”, was all she said, as she sat down on the couch.

“So John, were you excited the other night?”, she asked. He obviously was not ready for that question, and you could have knocked him over with a feather at that point. He started stuttering, and finally managed to tell her that yes, he thought that was very sexy and arousing. It had been a new experience for him, since he had never had a woman take control like that.

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it, and that you liked having me control things”, she said. she picked up his hand, and placed it on the top of her leg where her stockings met the leather skirt. He quickly said that yes, he was willing to try whatever she wanted. she I could tell from the bulge in his pants that he was ready. she leaned over, gave him a hot kiss, and stood up. “Why don’ t you take our wine glasses, and come with me into the bedroom!”. she didn’t have to ask twice. John was quickly on his feet, picked up the wine, and was following her into my bedroom. “Take your clothes off!”, she told him. He removed his clothes without a question, and waited for her to tell him what to do next. “John, I want you to get down on the floor on your knees. I have something special for you”. He looked at her with a quizzical look, indicating that he did not understand why she would want him to get down on the floor on his knees. “Just do what I say John. You said that you liked it when I took control, so do what I say!”

“Yes professor”

And He immediately did as she ordered this time, and dropped down onto his knees in front of her. “I am going to blindfold you, so that you can really enjoy what is going to happen”, she told him, as she slipped the blindfold over his head snugly against his eyes. “Now place your hands behind your back!” she ordered him. Once he did, she secured a pair of leather cuffs around each of his wrists, and locked his arms behind his back.

she then pushed his head down onto the floor, so that his ass and balls stood upright. she went to her closet and took out a device called a Humbler, which is basically a wooden vise made to fit behind the legs with an opening for the balls. she opened it up, and slipped his balls through the opening. she then positioned the Humbler up against the back of his legs, while she closed it up. He immediately started to moan as she tightened the device putting pressure around his balls. she turned the screw on the Humbler until both parts of the device were closed completely and tightly over his balls. He was really moaning now, but she noticed that his cock had also gotten hard and erect. Once the humbler was secured in place, there was no way that John would be able to stand up. He was now helplessly on his knees with his wrists cuffed behind his back, and judging from his hard on, he was obviously very aroused. “How do you feel John? Do you feel helpless?”, she asked, knowing very well what the answer would be. “Do you think you can stand up?” “No Professor”, there was no way he could get up with his balls locked behind his legs, as he tried unsuccessfully to raise himself off the floor. He said that he was totally helpless.

“That’s correct John. There’s is no way that you can get up on your feet while this little device is closed around your balls. It’s called a Humbler, and its purpose is to teach you that when you are on your knees in the presence of a Dominant Woman, you are at her mercy, and totally submissive to her. As you can see, you can’t do anything right now, unless I help you. Do you agree?” “Yes”, he said. she decided that now was the time to correct him, and see if he was truly ready to serve her. “John, when you are in my presence, you will always answer with ‘Yes or no professor. My name as far as you are concerned is Professor swan, and I expect to be addressed properly from now on. Do you understand?” “Yes, professor”, he replied. she patted him on the head and said “Very good. I know that this is all still new to you, so I am going to give you the option to be released and leave now if you want

“Oh no, Professor Swan. I don’t want to go. You don’t need to release me. I’ll agree to your terms”, he quickly said. she smiled, pressed her nylon clad legs against his face, and said “I’m glad to hear that from you at this point. I have so much to teach you in the coming days and months, and I think that you’ll be a quick learner, and get lots of pleasure from the things that we will do. I do need to warn you though, that it will not be all pleasure for you. Yes, if you keep me happy, serve me properly, and please me, I’ll make sure that you get plenty of pleasure. However John, whenever you disobey me, disappoint me, or fail to please me properly, then there will be punishment for you. That’s the way I believe the relationship has to be structured. My standards are very high, and anytime you don’t meet them, the punishment will be severe. Are you willing to take that chance and live by my rules so that you can be with me?

she could tell he was somewhat hesitant now that she had mentioned punishment, but he soon replied “Yes Profesor, I understand”. she ran her hands over his body, paying particular attention to his nipples. She squeezed them until they both were standing erect, and his cock was now standing straight out hard and erect. “Very well John. Before we go any further, since you say that you understand, I will tell you this, and I mean every word. Anytime tonight, tomorrow, or months from now, if you should feel that you can’t obey my orders exactly as I give them to you, or you are no longer willing to meet my every want and need without question, then we will stop. If you do, howeverwe will never do this again. Do you understand what I am saying?” John nodded his head up and down, and said “Yes professor, I fully understand what you are saying. That won’t happen.” “Great”, she said, as she sat down in a chair in front of him and kissed him deeply and removed the humbler

“Learn this lesson right now, John. Whenever I do something nice for you, whether it gives you pleasure or pain I expect a Thank You, without me asking. When you forget to thank me, you will be punished”. To emphasize her point, she picked up a paddle and gave him a hard smack across his ass. He obviously was not expecting it, and let out a loud cry. “You’ll get used to being paddled or whipped, I’m sure, because it’s the only way you’ll learn how to serve me properly!” she then unlocked the cuffs from behind his back, and quickly locked the two cuffs together in front of him. she told him to stand up, and when he did, she led him over to my bed.

she placed him on the bed on his back, and then pulled his cuffed wrists up over his head. she attached the wrist cuffs to the top of the Bed’s headboard, securing him helplessly to the bed. “Be quiet Troy or I will have to gag you. Consider this to be your punishment for not saying ‘Thank You’ earlier when I I kissed you and let the humbler out!” To make sure that he was even more uncomfortable, she connected the chain from the nipple clamps to the center of his wrist cuffs. Now whenever he would move his arms, he would also pull on his nipples. she smiled to myself, since she believe that when a slave tortures himself, it adds another dimension to his punishment. While he lay there suffering with the clamps pulling on his nipples, she got up on the bed, and positioned myself over his cock. she let her pussy slid down over his cock for a minute, and then she raised herself back up. He instinctively raised his groin and tried to push his cock back into her vagina. It was amusing watching him, because when he strained to push upwards, he pulled down on his arms, pulling on the clamps. He let out a moan, as the clamps tightened around his nipples. “What’s the matter John, are you having a problem?”, she asked amusingly she I repeated my little stunt a few more times, and each time enjoyed seeing him suffer.

Finally, she mounted his cock, and allowed him to enter me all the way. “Ok, little boy, show me how much you want to please your Mistress!” He immediately began raising his groin area to pump his cock into her vagina. As he pumped his cock, she took ahold of the clamps attached to his nipples, and squeezed on them. Each time she did, he let out a cry from the pain. she rode his cock, as he pumped faster and faster until finally, she exploded in an enormous orgasm. Shortly thereafter, he also came, filling her with his cum. When they had both recovered from the very intense sex, she removed the clamps, and ran her tongue over each nipple. He cried out in pain, as the blood rushed back into his nipples. she then lifted myself off of his cock, ran her fingers into her pussy, and stuck her cum covered fingers into his mouth. “Suck my fingers”, she ordered. “Show me how much you love my juices mixed with yours!”

He never had a chance to resist, and began sucking on her fingers, removing his cum from them. she finally got up off of the bed, unlocked his wrists from the cuffs, and locked into a hot passionate kiss with him. she told him “I am so glad that you decided that you want to be my slave. I am sure that we will have a long and wonderful relationship together and do this again JOhn!” “Wow that was something. I don’t think that I have ever been that excited during sex”, is all he said. “Yes she said and kissed him again, and began to get dressed.

John you can now call me Diana. John had never been so satisfied. He hugged her and didn’t let her go for many minutes. “Thank you so much for this love” he said and they entered the shower together.

23 notes · View notes