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shurisneakers · 3 months

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unsolved (ii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.

A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy

Previous part || Series masterlist

Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything.

The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt.

All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime.

He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality.

But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable.

The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open–

There’s no one on the other side.

Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.

Shoot day. See you at the studio!

He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order.

The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.

He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.

He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in.

“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”

Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state.

“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”

“I have my ways.”

Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity.

“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss.

He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not.

You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.

“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.”

Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do.

He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him.

He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied.

“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked.

You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”

Bucky’s eye twitches.

“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest.

You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”

Well. No.

“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”

Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way.

“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.

“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”

Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’.

But the sentiment is appreciated.

The studio is moderately big.

You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity.

He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it.

You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.

“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”

Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes.

“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.

You stop talking to look at him.

“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation.

If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.

“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”

“Makeup?”

“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”

Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.

“Just say it’s part of the theme.”

You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.”

So Bucky gets his makeup done.

By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.

The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms.

“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.

Bucky wants to scream.

“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.”

You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’.

Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.

“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him.

“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin.

Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.”

“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces.

“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.”

That sounds…doable.

“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate.

“Recording in three…two…one–”

The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead.

“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.

Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.

You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned.

You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this.

So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.

You kick him under the table.

The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t.

At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.

You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”

Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”

Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you?

Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”

“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”

Bitch.

“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”

“Where?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”

Bucky doesn’t add anything further.

You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue.

“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”

Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit.

“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”

“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest.

“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”

Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.

“What?” you challenge.

“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”

You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless.

“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.”

Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening.

Your eyebrow twitches.

You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated.

You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top.

You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion.

You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.

Collectively, every spine in the room straightens.

“Asbestos?” you echo.

“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago.

You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this.

“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.”

You stare at him. “You’re lying.”

He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”

“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.”

“Hallucinations?”

“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”

“And the bite marks?”

“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”

“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”

Bucky shrugs.

You look like you’re going to lose your mind.

You clear your throat. “What about the priest?

Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?”

“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?”

“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”

“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better.

“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.

“You’re bullshitting.”

“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”

“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”

“Because the house was haunted.”

“By mold.”

Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch.

You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers.

“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”

The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.

But he’s already gone.

The video goes up that weekend.

It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.

To Barnes (Work):

are you ready for your influencer era

He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.

To Barnes (Work):

influenza

Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies.

The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.

And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved.

From unknown

Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.

Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name.

From unknown

Just letting you know though– he was lying.

From unknown

He doesn’t have an aunt.

Motherfucker.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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hannie-dul-set · 9 months

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CRASH & BURN.

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor. w — swearing, one absolutely horrendous dad joke, the secondhand embarrassment is even worse this time i'm not sorry at all, the rest of the en-kids are also losers. 1.3k words.

note — listen, who am i to deny the public from their needs and wants? i have no idea how rizzless hoon became such a hit, but ask and you shall receive. i'm sure this won't be the last you'll see of this loser. PART ONE. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.

also tagging those who were asking for a part two hope u all don't mind! — @gyulune @jngwnlvs @snowysab @miercerise @karinasswifee @cerealdreamwriter @dinonuguaegi @tyongff-ff

for the past five days, you have been routinely returning to the skatepark at the same time without fail. this has obviously attracted questions from your friends considering the first time you tried out a longboard, you crashed and scraped and bruised your chin within seconds, but you can’t exactly tell them the truth about your endeavor— that you’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of mr. kuromi bandaid with the rollerblades again, and being left disappointed every single time.

he hasn’t shown up. not even once.

it’s day five, and there’s still no sign of him nor his lollipop. it’s day five, and you’re just about to give up until you spot from your peripheral a familiar group of boys that scared the shit out of you the other day— except this time, they aren’t staring at you like maniacs, and they seem to be one person less.

“are you fucking stupid?” you overhear as you hesitantly approach their circle, cautious steps because they’re still as intimidating as you can remember. they all look so serious, two individuals glaring at each other while the rest simply watch, both unconcerned and amused. “oh yeah? you really think you can beat me? wanna duke it out right now, dickwad?”

cold sweat breaks out and you freeze in your tracks, expecting them to spiral into a fist fight.

“my dragonite will sweep your fucking team, loser.”

“your dragonbitch doesn’t stand a chance against my tyranitar!”

nevermind. you really shouldn’t be so quick to judge them again.

you regain the bounce in your step and race up before they could metaphorically kick each other's asses.

“hi!”

you flinch when the six heads suddenly snap towards you. your smile twitches, discomfort lasering into your skin from the half a dozen set of narrowed eyes leering at you so intently and so intensely. “who are you?” the one previously bragging about his dragonite asks.

“dumbass.” another one smacks the former on the backside of his skull. “it’s shoelaces.”

the nickname sets a few lightbulbs off, and a pair breaks away from their violent staring at you to give each other knowing glances. “oh, shit!” this time it’s mr. tyranitar who exclaims. “right. the dude hoon absolutely decimated himself in front of. poor guy. he’s still going through the five stages of grief.”

hoon must mean sunghoon. you want to open your mouth and present your business about the missing individual, but it’s not so easy to butt in when they’re busy conversing amongst themselves.

“what do they want?”

“how should i know? i’m not them?”

“no fucking shit. but what do you think they want?”

“maybe it’s about hoon?”

“no way. that guy’s done for.”

“hey, don’t be too harsh on him! he’s grieving!”

“what if it’s because we‘re being too loud—”

“what if they’re here to have a pokemon batt—”

“you do realize they can hear you, right?”

light-haired guy is right. you can very much hear them, and they’ve all finally quieted down, slowly turning their heads to you once more but with a dampened intensity this time. they’re waiting for you to speak. you can’t believe you thought they were scary. you can’t believe you were intimidated by a group of nerds.

“sorry for the intrusion,” you smile, pressing your palms together. “i noticed one of your friends hasn’t been coming around lately. is he okay?”

a cough. a nudge. a silent conversation between the six pairs of eyes. “he’s been sick these past few days,” dragonite owner finally says. “sickeningly unbearab— ow!”

your smile disappears. “oh no.” he’s sick? he already didn’t seem that strong when you met him the other day, collapsing into the ground and all.

“i think you can help him get better— ouch! jungwon, what the fuck?” one of them gets hit again. you’re sure it’s been the same guy hitting the rest of them since earlier.

“why are you asking about him?”

the nicest looking one squeezes out of their group while asking his earnest question, fishing out the answer from you with bright, curious eyes. “ah,” you sound out. “i just wanted to tell him that i also think his shoelaces are really cool.”

they stare at you, then stare at each other. and then someone spews out, “is that a new pick-up line, or some shit?” before getting hit again, and the light-haired guy comes forward to block the squabble happening behind him, and to tell you that they’ll be dragging their friend tomorrow at the same time (isn’t he supposed to be sick?) so you can compliment his shoelaces in person(?), and that they are looking forward to welcoming you to their family (whatever the fuck that means).

as promised, they do drag the sick man into the skatepark— literally dragging him because the guy who introduced himself yesterday as jake is pulling him forward by the sleeve while jungwon pushes him from behind as the wheels of his roller skates make sure that sunghoon keeps on moving. he looks like he’s ready to move on into the afterlife. your eyes light up when they drag him closer.

“c’mon, hyung! just a little bit more— a liiiiittle bit—

“i told you, i’m never coming back here again!“ you hear him groan, attempting to break away from his escort team. “never ever. never again. this is is where half of my dignity is buried. my pride. my shame. my—”

and then he freezes.

sunghoon gets frozen by an invisible force when your eyes meet, frozen but his cheeks are set ablaze. his friends did a great job in escorting him to you, encasing him and in consequence his view of his surroundings until you’re within an arm’s reach so he doesnt run away. the heat from his face thaws him back into movement, panicked and angry expressions sent to his friends and they all look pretty stupid trying to talk with just their eyebrows, but it’s cute nonetheless.

“hey!” you finally chipper in, causing sunghoon to freeze once more, creaking to meet your gaze.

“h—hello. hi.”

sunghoon’s greeting comes out as a choke. jake and jungwon send each other signals before hurling the poor boy at you.

it’s like he’s suddenly forgotten how to skate. he can’t control his muscles, sliding over the short path at a dangerous speed that mimics his racing heart and oh shit— oh shit, oh shit. how does he stop again? how does he make a turn? how does he not fucking crash into you like a meteor being sucked into the earth’s orbit?

“oh!”

like all of his (very limited) interactions with you, sunghoon crashes and burns. it’s inevitable. but this time, he crashes and burns into you. you’re both on the concrete and his hand feels like it got crushed between the hard ground and the back of your head, but that pain quickly subsides into a numbing buzz, pumping his arteries with nectar, burning his veins with gasoline, because holy crap—

“close.”

“you’re right, that was a close call,” you breathe out. “i could’ve cracked my skull open.”

“i— i mean, close, you’re— you’re too close.”

does he realize that you can’t exactly move underneath him? he probably doesn’t, not when you can practically see the smoke emitting from his head and the panicked swirl in his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “ah, sorry.” that was a mistake. sunghoon’s face flushes warmer and like a hammer to his skull, the realization hits and he and slowly pries himself off of you.

“sorry—”

“it’s fine.” you sit up and brush the dust off your clothes, stretching out your legs as you nudge yourself closer to him on the ground. “your friends told me you’ve been sick. are you feeling better now?”

“huh?”

you’re not sure why he’s confused, but he looks very confused before turning his gaze to his friends. you find jay snapping out a thumbs up and sunoo’s stern face somehow reading don’t fucking blow it. he turns back to you with a lot more sweat on his neck than prior. “oh, yeah i was sick, i was so sick, ahaha—” he stammers. “a—anyway, what’s up?”

“i just wanted to see you again. it’s not everyday that i get a compliment on my shoelaces, you know?” you smile. “what about today? aren’t they prettier than the last ones?”

you wiggle your shoes to show off, laced in a complicated pattern that you’ve been practicing for the past five days, and you expect to receive another compliment for it, but sunghoon is oddly quiet.

he’s quiet. you’re sure you chose a cool pair of shoes this morning. you’re about to be disappointed, until you notice that he’s actually thinking. he’s thinking very hard he’s thinking of something, and that something comes out of his mouth in the form of a badly timed pun.

“...what about...toe-day...”

park sunghoon only knows how to crash and burn. all his friends are a witness to that. they’re a witness to this events that transpired this afternoon, but what they didn’t expect is for you to have an affinity for disasters. you’re laughing at his dumb joke. you’re actually laughing. they’ve been shitting on sunghoon for being hopeless, but maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.

CRASH & BURN.

#i like him a normal amount #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fluff #enhypen scenarios #enha secnarios #park sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon scenarios

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im-internally-screaming · 2 years

Text

Just ADHD/ ASD things Pt.2, since the first one was apparently popular

I forgot what I was saying while I was saying it

This project does not exist until 5 minutes before it's supposed to be turned in.

My Thoughts Are Loud

I don't hate you, my brain just decided you're boring.

Lost in the black hole of google searches

I know random really weird facts but can't remember your name

I'm not instantly perfect and therefore am a failure

My brain "Followed the dopamine" and now I literally have 12 unfinished things

I apparently can only remember a 5 second part of an entire 3 minute song

Intrusive thoughts, or, My Brain is an Edgelord

I still can't remember your name

I didn't mean to slam the door I just forgot how to move

Brain no make words

Brain make too many words and they're all smashed together

Brain make the right words in the wrong order

I forgot this specific word and will remember it an hour later and yell it out loud.

Constantly tripping, knocking things over, running into things, etc

Huh, what was that? (Brain catches up and I immediately respond)

Oh look, now we're depressed

Those lights are too loud

If I don't immediately know where I'm going I'm lost

I didn't interrupt you because I'm rude, I just need to speak before I forget what I wanted to say

#adhd tag #adhd brain #adhd memes #adhd #neurospicy #its the neurodivergency #neurodivergent #actually autistic #actually adhd #adhd problems

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igotanidea · 2 months

Text

Lesson one - Xbox and helmet

(Dick Grayson x reader)

Summary/request: Dick teaching reader how to drive (or how to not drive XD )

***

“Oh come on! You let Kori drive your car!”

“That’s not the word I would use since she stole-“

„tomayto, tomahto!”

„Y/N…”

„Do not Y/N me! She did drive your car!”

“Well sorry to break it to you sunshine but-“

“Do not say that!”

“Kori actually knows how to drive”

“Richard John Grayson!!”

“What?! It’s true! She can!”

“And I’m your girlfriend!”

“So what, that’s an argument for everything now?”

“YES!!”

“Y/N….”

She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, turning back to him. If the most important argument of being in a relationship did not work on him, Y/N was more than ready to give him cold shoulder, quiet days and ignorance just to get her way. Maybe it wasn’t mature but this method proved to be effective in the past, cause her beloved Dickie could not go without her hugs and kisses for more then couple hours.

“Come on, sunshine, do not get all moody. You know I hate it when you’re mad at me…” he whispered moving closer and wrapping arms around her from behind, nuzzling into her hair and neck, planting a little kiss on her cheek.

“I’m not mad at you…” she muttered leaning on his chest, enjoying the comfort his embrace brought her. “I’m mad at myself…..” her exasperated sigh was quite a surprise given the fact she was not so open lately.

“At yourself? Why?” Dick spun her around in his arms, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead, observing her with the intensity that was supposed to read her mind.

“Cause I’m way behind….”

“Way behind? I don’t—Oh….” The realization dawned on him.

“Yeah… exactly….”

“Sunshine, there’s nothing wrong with-“

“Guilt, intrusive thoughts, frustration, fear-“

“What?” he frowned in confusion of the nouns coming out her mouth, not making any sense.

“That’s everything that’s wrong with not getting a driver’s license in time.”

“And terrorizing your boyfriend to drive his arm and leg expensive porsche. I’d rather have you on the passenger seat where you're able to give me that little kisses of yours while driving”. he grinned and she rolled her eyes. “Ok, you know, how about we take it down a notch. There’s no need to go fast and furious on the first lesson. We can use that old ford for now, how about that?”

“You kidding me now? It’s not even about me, but I can’t imagine you getting inside the car that’s lower than S class.”

“Yeah, see how much sacrifice I make for you?”

***

It was almost impossible to focus on the gears and pedals and steering wheel and all the rules and road signs, while having Dick on the passenger seat.

Generally speaking, in any other circumstances, it wouldn’t even be funny, rather pressuring, but seeing him barely fitting in the little space, with knees right below his chin, folded in a way only an acrobat could, but one that definitely wasn’t comfortable….?

Hilarious.

And dangerously distracting.

Which became obviously obvious to both of them when Y/N almost took a wrong turn and hit the highroad.

“NO!” Dick yelled lunging at the steering wheel miraculously saving them from a dumb death under the wheels of a truck, but not from the loud sound of horn and lavatorial gesture send their way. “Y/N! What the-? Don’t close your eyes, you’re the driver for God’s sake! Y/N!”

“Sorry!” she squealed letting go off the wheel completely losing her cool.

“If I’m dying I want to go down in some spectacular way not in a car accident!”

“I’m sorry!” she squealed again. “Not my fault you’re a bad instructor!”

Dick perked up his ears, send her a terrifyingly teasing smirk and made a few sharp turns and twist, in a absolutely not-showing off way, getting them back to the parking lot where they started lesson one.

Falling back on his seat with a self-satisfaction expression, brushing one hand over the other, waiting for her reaction.

He didn’t expect the silence.

“Y/N…?” with a few more acrobatic twist he turned to look at her face.

“I’m fine—” she stuttered, despite the pale face and widened eyes that actually brought some guilt into him.

“Hey…” he squeezed her hand in a reassuring gesture “I think your first lesson turned to be quite successful. We both survived.”

“Thanks to your instincts, not my skills.”

“Well-“ Dick searched for the right words “at least you know that as long as I’m with you, you can always feel safe. Which obviously makes me the best instructor you could ever wish for, right?” he pecked her lips quickly before leaving the car, circling it and opening the door for her, offering a hand like a real gentleman.”

“What are you doing, Dick?” Y/N unfastened her seatbelt putting both feet on the ground “I can leave this diabolical invention by myself.”

“Sure. But imagine- after having done your license – pulling out in a fancy car at one of Bruce’s party, dressed in an expensive, exclusive dress, all eyes on you as your handsome boyfriend escort you to the door. I’m only giving you a foretaste of the feeling.”

“On the empty parking lot in a shabby ten year old ford?!”

“Precisely. You need to anchor in that image to help you motivate. We’ll build from it. I promise to help you, ok?”

“Cause you want to keep an eye on me or the other road traffic participants?”

“It would be a bit embarrassing if I had to detain my own girlfriend for a road offence, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not a police officer!”

“I’m a detective, it’s pretty much the same, besides if I see someone drive in a zigzag pattern, raising some suspicions about the driver's condition –“ Dick shrugged innocently pulling her to her feet and holding close to his chest “it’s my civilian duty to prevent any harm from happening.”

“Civilian duty?”

“Yeah, that’s why on your second lesson we’ll be doing theory rather than practice. I’ll even buy that fancy expensive Xbox F1 simulator I had my eyes on for a while….” His eyes became a little blurry and voice drifted off “but it’s all just for learning purposes. All for you. Not for me, I’m selfless!”

“Of course you are Dickie.” She chuckled “absolutely selfless “but if you’re investing in my knowledge in the form a console game, I’ll invest in your safety and purchase a helmet just for you.”

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff

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gglitch1dd · 2 years

Text

Day 5: Mr Snake

Naga Bakugou x Human AFAB Reader

They always told you to stay out of the forest. Sometimes the snakes there were bigger than you thought they were.

Words: 7,3k. NSFW Warning. SMUT. Blood. Biting. Breeding Kink for Mr Snake-boi. Venom. Tranquilizers. DUBIOUS CONSENT. Katsuki is an Albino Copperhead Naga

You looked down at your map to try and find the camping site that was recommended on the brochure. You were on a camping trip, albeit it being a one-man camping trip, but you were still going to make it a good one. Initially it was supposed to be you and a group of colleagues camping but emergencies kept on popping up one by one and soon you found yourself alone on a trail in the forest trying to find the camp site that was suggested.

You had never done this by yourself before, and it was all the more exhilarating to do it knowing that you were going to survive this all on your own. Not like you had plans not to survive, but your intrusive thoughts kept telling you that this was the start of your horror story documentary on Netflix.

You heard the sound of an engine not to far away. It was actually really close. You stopped on your path and raised an eyebrow as you looked around for the source of the sound. You scratched your head over your hat as you thought you were going mad.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

Just in nick of time, you stumbled back onto the ground just as a quad bike went zipping into the air nearby you and landed on the ground with a loud thud. You looked up with wide eyes as another one shortly followed it, but the driver of this one skidded to a stop.

“Oh my goodness, are you alright?” You looked up as a man hopped off his quadbike and crouched down offering a hand. “Don’t worry, I am here.” You looked up, lifting a hand to block the sun trying to see who it was.

“Jesus?”

You heard a laugh come from the man. “Last time I checked, Jesus isn’t Asian but I’m sorry to disappoint you.” As you took his large hand, you were pulled up to meet the green sparkling eyes of a ranger. He had a green hat on his head that matched with his dark green curls and undercut. He smiled down at you kindly as his gaze locked on yours, matching green eyes to go with his hair. A broad grin, accompanied with dimples, went to his freckled face as he helped you up to your feet. He tilted his hat down to you, his eyes never leaving you. “Midoriya Izuku, forest ranger.”

“Uh...” You blinked up at him for a moment. “Y/N. Civilian.”

He laughed at that. He observantly noticed your camping supplies and the map that was previously in your hands. He bent down to pick it up for you. “Are you going camping?” He asked as he looked over where you had circled to go to. You nodded with an affirmative sound. “By yourself?” He asked concerned as he stood up to full height.

“It’s alright.” You tapped your bicep to make a show of your non-existent muscles. “I’m a big person. I’ve got this.” You stood proudly with a determined look on your face.

For a moment, Midoriya thought you looked like a little Animal Crossing character, with the stars in your eyes. He chuckled at that, handing you back your map. “Alright then, big person. You show the forest what you got.” He nodded his head, looking you up and down so subtly you didn’t notice. “Just go straight to the camp site, and stay on the path, we have a...” He hesitated with a sort of annoyed look on his face. He looked away from you into the forest with a sort of glare. “Snake... problem in these woods.” He turned his attention back to you, his kind smile back on his face in a way that you barely remembered the hostility at all. “Just be safe.”

You nodded your head. “Thank you, Mr Midoriya.” You stated with a nod to your head.

He opened his mouth to speak. “DEKU!” He turned around to see his comrade on her quadbike, looking at him. She had her brown thick hair tied up behind her head as she looked at him in urgency. She stood up on her bike, straight, revealing to you a perfect hourglass figure. “Lets go!” She told him, motioning behind her, where she had come back from, noticing that he hadn’t followed her.

“Alright!” He shouted over at her. It was then you noticed that he had a name tag that said the name ‘Deku’ on it.

It was then that he took a small jog to his bike. “Deku?” He turned back to look at you. You looked at him inquiringly.

He chuckled. “Ranger nickname.” He informed you. He motioned to his comrade. “That’s Uravity.” He told you. “Remember to stay on the path. Don’t go looking for trouble when the heroes aren’t there.” He warned you. With a final rev of his engine, he went driving off, Uravity following him in the trail of the dust he left behind.

For a moment you did nothing. Then you smiled diabolically “What a nice cutie pie.” You state to yourself as you kept on walking.

Sadly, for you, the words of Midoriya might have just been words to fall on deaf ears as you quite literally got lost. You were now in the dark forest with your phone as a flashlight, looking around for the path again. You were getting worried and anxious. It was dark, really dark, and what wasn’t helping was the fact that you were all alone with no signal and had no other way to contact Mr Nice-cutie-pie ranger for help.

You grumbled to yourself as you looked around the woods. “Argh... I should have just stayed at home.” You let out to yourself. Just as you did you heard a twig snap. You gasped and turned your entire body towards the sound. “Who’s there!” You called out into the dark, seemingly empty, forest.

You couldn’t see anything as you looked around. A chill went up your spine as anxiety full on settled into your body. You didn’t know what was about to happen but you prayed to the heavens that someone would take care of your cat. Your breathing increased as you started moving backwards. You then stopped as you heard a sound you didn’t want to hear.

The sounds of a snake. The long hiss of a snake that was much too loud for your liking. You tried to figure out where the sound was coming from, but it was seemingly coming from all sides of you. You tried not to freak out, the thought of multiple snakes starting to creep into your mind. You started to slowly back away from the area, hoping that one wasn’t behind you. Unfortunately for you, you stepped on something cylindrical.

You froze as you slowly looked down to see the thick tail of what looked like the pattern of a white and cream coloured (almost orange) copperhead. A big copperhead from the looks of it. Your face fell for a moment as you realised your luck.

“Fu-CK!” Your legs suddenly got wrapped and tangled in something and you were suddenly hoisted up into the air defenceless. You screamed as you were hanging upside down, your phone having fallen out of your hand to land on the ground with the flashlight facing downwards. You looked up to see what looked like thick moving coils wrapped around your legs. Your eyes widened, wondering what type of snake the ability had to do that.

“Look...” You heard a voice start. You were spun around to face the dark silhouette of what seemed to be a very large person, with glowing vermillion eyes. “at what I have here?” Hissing down at you was a blond man with a forked tongue and eyes of pure fire and blood. You looked down noticing he was shirtless. Then you also noticed that he didn’t have legs. From his waist down was the tail of a snake. He was absolutely humongous and clearly hostile and unfriendly too. However, it was hard to tell with the giant smirk on his face. “A pretty little human for the taking.” He grinned as he moved closer to you. His hypnotising red eyes locked onto your form with a look of hunger on his face.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Y-y-you're a-a... a naga.” You whisper in shock.

He raised a blond eyebrow at you. “And you’re a human.” He pointed out. His eyes trailed your upside-down figure for a moment. Then all of a sudden you were dropped to the ground with a thud. You hissed in pain as you luckily landed on your side and not on your head, however your hip really started to hurt and so did the side of your arm. You let out a small cry in pain as you tried to push yourself off the ground. “I would stop making such pretty little noises if I were you, little one.” His voice rang into the air as you heard the hissing again. Suddenly you saw you were being circled by a thick long white tail. He was circling you and very fast too. You tried to find where his head was but your senses were being overwhelmed by the pattern and colour of his thick tail. Suddenly you found your body up straight and wrapped up in coils as he looked down at you with a grin with sharp fangs. “Food tastes so much better when it’s in pain.” He told you as he leaned closer to your ear.

You looked at him wide eyed. You shook your head trying to get out but he only tightened his hold on you making you gasp. “I’m sorry Mr Albino-Copperhead-Naga, but I-”

“Bakugou.”

“Excuse you.”

“No, human!” He hissed at you in annoyance. “My name. Bakugou Katsuki. It’s like me just calling you... He looked your features over. He squinted as he sniffed you. “Well whatever type of human you are.”

“I am Y/N.” You smiled up at him. He frowned at your smile. It ticked him off. “And as I was saying, I’m sorry for stepping on your land Bakugou, I didn’t know.” You told him honestly.

He glared down at you. “Didn’t the annoying Deku warn you about straying off the path?” He asked you. “He’s always ruining my fun.” He grumbled more to himself than for you to hear.

You tilted your head. Then you smiled dreamily. “Oh... you mean the nice cutie pie with the freckles?” You asked with a sigh, remembering him and his gorgeous thighs.

Bakugou’s face scrunched up as your scent changed. Of course, you didn’t notice it but he did. He let out a growl of a hiss as he tightened his hold on you making you squeak at the tightness. He barred his fangs to you as he glared down at you. His body positioned higher than you as he glared down at you domineeringly. “Don’t fucking get aroused by that walking tree! He wouldn’t make a good mate.”

You hummed as you thought of the green haired ranger's large hands. “Hm... I beg to differ.” You nod your head. “I bet he has tons of people to call.”

“What! No he does not! He probably is a loner, and he still lives with his mother too!”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Please, Mr Snake.”

“Bakugou.”

“Bless you.” You ignored his correction of your statement. “But I don’t exactly see you with any mate.” You point out.

Bakugou was taken aback as he moved his head back in surprise like a snake that had just got slapped on the head. His arms folded over his large chest. His upper body was packed with muscle to match his thick scale, but he had a thin waist and clearly mythical attractiveness about him. He scowled down at you. “How do you know I don’t have a mate?” He asked with an almost smirk, thinking he had won the argument.

You look around the dark forest. Your eyes had adjusted so that you were now able to easily see around you. You hummed as you tried to find anything that remotely looked like signs of another obnoxiously big snake. “I... I don’t see anyone...” You looked at him with a ‘really?’ look. Instantly he lost his smirk. “Besides, if you had a mate, you wouldn’t be standing- sorry, that’s not very inclusive... uh, what do you do? Slither? Sit?”

He looked at you annoyed. “Stand is fine.”

“Okay great. Where was I? Oh, yes. You wouldn’t be standing around talking to me now, would you?” You tilted your head to the side with wide eyes and looked back up at him.

Bakugou huffed as he angled his body slightly away from you. “I... I’m just defending my territor-”

“HA! You lonely, Mr Snake!” You laughed.

Bakugou looked down at you with a frown. “I’m not-”

“Lonely!”

“I-”

“Mr Lonely-Ass-No-friends-ass-got-nobody-to-talk-to-ass-Albino Snake-”

A huge growl sounded as suddenly you were unable to breathe. All the air was sucked out of your lungs as Bakugou’s thick white tail squeezed you tight and his dark red eyes looked down at you with malice and annoyance. A chill of fear ran down your back. You sensed you had made a mistake of some kind. Bakugou leaned down and bared his teeth at you. “Looks like my days just got a lot more interesting.” He hissed down at you.

He uncoiled himself from around you, finally allowing you to breathe. You collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air as you were finally let loose for a moment. However, that was short lived as you were grabbed and dragged away from where he had dropped you. The blond naga, held you tightly with his tail and pulled you along to God knows where.

“Ah... Mr Snake... Mr Bakugou... where are we going?” You asked as he lifted you off the ground but kept you tightly bound and following him.

He didn’t look back at you as he moved forward, his body swaying side to side slightly as he slithered onwards deeper into the forest. “Den.” He stated simply.

“Ah yes.” You nodded. “But to do what?”

“You are my mate now.”

Your eyes widened. You quickly shook your head furiously as you truly understood what he was saying. You started to realise that maybe just not coming on this trip at all would have been better than getting kidnapped by a naga. “No. No, no, no, no, Bakugou. I can’t be your mate.” You told him with certainty. “I’m a human. You’re half snake. It’s not going to work. I have enough snakes in my life, thank you very much.”

He stopped for a moment, pulling you closer to him. You had to applaud that his tail strength and ability to move his tail around so effortlessly was very impressive as he held you with it. He pulled you to once again hang in front of him. He looked your body around. “You do have a slit do you not?” He asked as he looked around your abdomen, his hands grabbing at your flesh making you laugh. You giggled as he moved his hands around. He put his finger in your belly button, making you squeak. He glared at the odd thing before adventuring further down your body. He started tugging at your pants trying to see what was hiding between your legs.

“Hey!” You quickly hit his side making him stop and stare at you. “Don’t touch there without my consent! That’s rude!” You glare at him with a warm face. “Besides you haven’t even brought me dinner first.”

“Dinner? Are you hungry?” He asked you with a tilt of his head. Before you could even answer again, the both of you were moving, but much faster. You held onto his tail as you were suddenly speeding through the forest moving towards wherever the hell, he was taking you. You then widened your eyes as you noticed that the both of you were now by a mountain side with what looked like a cave. Bakugou moved inside effortlessly, before plopping you down on what seemed to be a bed made out of pelts, leaves and wool. You carefully sat up as the snake started making his way out of the cave again. “Don’t move.” You knew it wasn’t a suggestion as he left out of the cave.

You looked around and noticed that you were in a very sticky situation. The cave seemed well maintained though, but you wondered how you would ever get out of it. First thing you did, was stay put. You weren’t going to anger a very scary, giant and heavy snake hybrid further than you already have. It would be stupid. Besides, as he said, this was his territory. He knew the forest probably better than you ever would. Trying to navigate it in the middle of the night with no map was going to be disaster waiting to happen.

You took off your backpack and put it in front of you. Luckily you still had some items you would need if you were staying here for a few days. You opened your backpack but then you whimpered at some pain. You noticed that your arm still hurt, probably from the initial fall. He seemingly liked to drop your body as he pleased. You wondered if you had any cooling cream inside your back. As you searched with your non injured arm you took off your jacket to assess if there was any exterior damage. You sighed as you saw only bruises, and nothing cut nor scraped.

Deciding that now was the best time to take care of yourself before Bakugou came back, you applied the cooling cream to your arm, allowing the warming bruise to ease at the feeling of the cream on your skin. After that you took out your small blanket and a travel pillow. You had dropped your sleeping bag somewhere but that was fine for the mean time. You started shifting your items and placing them in a nice way to not bother you when you went to bed.

“Look at you getting cozy.”

“Oh my God!” You nearly saw the light as the voice rang out.

Bakugou chuckled as he moved back inside the cave, holding something in hand. You placed a hand to your heart as you tried to breathe to calm it. The naga circled around the place you had adjusted to suit you. “Making a nest? I didn’t know humans' nest.” He spoke out as he circled you with his long tail that you were sure was probably over thirty feet long.

“Nest?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. You looked down at the pillow and blanket over what you would consider what he built to be a nest. “Uh... sure.” You weren’t entirely sure what he meant but you kept to yourself about that as you settled in perfectly.

“Here. Dinner.” Throwing to you on your lap was a rabbit.

You looked down at it for a moment, then you realised it was dead. “OH SWEET JESUS!” You jumped up and positioned yourself far away from the dead rabbit as you leaned against the wall that he formed out of his coils around you. Your heart beat out of your chest as you tried not to become too stressed out. Bakugou raised an eyebrow as he lay on top of his tail, a hand holding his head up as he lay to the side. “It’s dead.” You announced.

“Uh yah... did you want to kill it yourself?” He asked.

“NO!” You turned to him with furrowed eyebrows. “I can’t eat that.” You motioned to the poor fluffy soul that you hoped was hoping around in green pastures with endless amounts of vegetables. “My stomach can’t digest raw food well.”

Bakugou hissed annoyed. “You humans are so complicated.” He folded his arms and closed his eyes.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Aren’t you hungry?”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at you. “And you think a rabbit is going to solve that? No. I’m still digesting.”

“Digesting what?”

“A child.”

“BAKUGOU!”

He chuckled at your upset expression. You couldn’t help but notice how nice and deep his laugh was, accompanied by a smile. You knew that if he were a human, he would have been modal worthy. He looked back over to you. “Deer. I don’t eat humans. You guys taste bad with all the shit you eat.” He told you sticking his forked tongue out in disgust.

You stuck your tongue out a little bit. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. He leaned over closer to you, his face not too far away from yours. You watched his pupils expand slightly. He stuck his tongue out again and so did you. You moved your head back and forward once. His pupils dilated again as he followed your motion again. Whatever you did with your head, moving it whichever way you wished, he copied. Finally, you bopped his nose with your own, taking him by surprise.

You looked up at him going with a grin on your face. “You to continue to dance for me, snakey snake?” You asked moving your eyebrows up and down.

You watched a blush cross over to his face, his cheeks going pink. He glared down at you with a nonthreatening hiss and turned away from you, crossing his arms and lying on his tale. “I’m sleeping now.”

Your eyes widened as you realised what his denial meant. “You can dance?”

“Goodnight.”

“Dance for me, Bakugou.”

“Stop talking.”

“Snakey dance!”

He groaned in annoyance.

You had been staying with Bakugou for the past week and so far, you couldn’t really complain. It did suck to know you didn’t exactly have the things from your life like electricity, a microwave, or food that didn’t make you feel like you were a bad person, but it wasn’t entirely bad. Bakugou, despite all the angry shit he gave you and his constant grumbling, was a very attentive person. After the whole rabbit incident he stuck to getting you snacks. You wondered where he got the human snacks from but you assumed he just stole them for you, which you didn’t entirely mind (Don’t steal kids).

He was also very interesting when he chose to talk. He told you a lot about his past, his friends that didn’t live too far away from here but were also planning on settling down too. He told you about all the places his seen, the hybrids his met. Your favourite time with him is that sometimes, maybe every second or third day he would coil around you at night and the two of you would look at the stars. He would tell you about tales you could hardly believe in with beasts just as monstrous or scary as him. He told you about a time long ago when hybrids were more common than humans. It was one of the few times he was ever so soft or gentle with you. He was mostly just like that when he was sleepy.

He was sleepy quite often actually. Especially in his midday naps were he would lie in the sun, on his back and basically sleep there for a few hours as he took in the heat. You knew that as a relative to a cold blooded animal, he needed the sun. Even then, he would often either block your way out or leave you to do whatever you needed to do without his prying eyes that were always watching you.

While he was sleeping, you made sure to change into a change of clothes you had packed and do your business away from his eyes. You also attempted to wash in a lake nearby that Bakugou had (sort of) told you it was safe enough for you to submerge yourself in without fear of puranas or some other predator.

The oddest part of everything was, you didn’t run. You hadn’t done much to provoke him into distrusting you either. You spent most of your time making flower crowns and giving it to him, to watch him blush, or trying to seduce him with your attempted snake dance that he found halerious because of how uncoordinated your limbs were (You almost got him to do it for you but he quickly caught on and almost bit your ass off for that).

You noticed that Bakugou had the habit of gifting you something, whether it be food or an attempt at a flower crown (he was getting there) and when you accepted it, he would put his chin on your head and rub his shin on your shoulder and head. It seemed to be a real calming act for him, since whenever he did it, his eyes would close and he would sigh for a moment.

You decided to test this theory.

Bakugou was asleep sunbathing, his arms cross as he lay on his stomach on a large slab of stone. You carefully moved around his tail, being careful not to step on it despite knowing that his tail was thick enough that it wouldn’t hurt him if you did step on it. He was really silent when he wasn’t talking or hissing, just like a snake. You wouldn’t know he was there if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a giant naga with a tail that was probably ten times your size.

“Bakugou.” You said his name as you got closer to his upper body. He ignored you as he kept his eyes shut as he lay in the sun, trying to soak up the heat. You walked over to sit in front of him. You crossed your legs and tapped his head. “Bakugou.” Once again there was no response. You bent down closer to his face. “Ka-tsu-ki.” You drawled out.

Bakugou opened his eyes tiredly as he looked up at you. His red eyes locking onto you with a glare. “You annoying person, waking me up during my very important nap.” He groaned as he tried lifting his head. You shifted forward to bring his head into your lap. You pulled your hand through his hair as you looked down at him, caressing his face. Bakugou frowned but his cheek grew pink in colour. You were really touchy, naturally. A very affectionate person, and to him, he could never understand why. “Mh?” He asked with a frown. “What’s up?”

You didn’t answer him. You just smiled. You leaned down and put your shin on his head and rubbed your shin against his soft tufts of ash blond hair. You tried to replicate the little hidden rumble he makes whenever he did it to you, of course it sounded more like a humm than anything else but you tried. You moved your head away from him with the same smile on your face.

Bakugou however wasn’t smiling. He looked up at you with wider eyes than you had ever seen on him. He seemed shocked. Shocked right off his axis. His red crimson eyes held your gaze for a long moment, his own gaze was unblinking and intense as he looked up at you. You stuck your tongue out at him. You moved to get up but immediately you were pulled up off the ground. You found yourself in Bakugou’s arms as he moved off of the warm place he was in and towards the cave he resided in. You tilted your head to the side in surprise at his urgent movements that seemed rather unlike him but you weren’t going to complain. It meant a free ride back.

When the two of you made it inside, you were immediately wrapped up in coils. You wondered what was up with him today as he never really left his afternoon naps before. Before you could ask anything you noticed coils grind between your legs making you squeak at the sudden friction. A rush of heat went up your neck to your face. “K-katsuki. What are you doing?” You asked.

His eyes on you reminded you of the first time you met him. Hungry and with a hidden agenda that was beyond what you knew. He watched as you shifted left to right, trying not to show how aroused you were getting, but Bakugou could tell, obviously he could tell. “You are really slow human, but you catch on quickly. But it is a relief you think the same as I.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Think about wha-” You stopped talking as you bit down on your lip to stop the moan that was going to be pulled out of you. Along with the increase in pressure to the coils that were rubbing against your clothed sex, you felt his hands move to grab and grope at your chest. He positioned himself behind you, feeling at your skin as his hands adventured underneath your shirt. You let out small whines with your mouth closed not wanting to make sound.

“Hm... you could be more sensitive...” He let out more for himself than for you to hear. Soon the blond had an idea. He leaned closer to your ear, his tongue brushing against it. “Scream for me.”

Before you could question what he had just said, you felt sharp fangs pierce your neck. You jolted forward as a scream was pulled out of your throat at the painful feelings of his fangs inside of you. You whined at the pain but then a blooming heat went across your body. You felt hot all of and you could barely think straight. Bakugou retracted his fangs from your neck, licking the blood away with satisfaction. With the small dose of venom in your veins you would be just how he wanted you to be.

With a single brush to your chest with his hands you were quivering in his grasp. He chuckled. “Perfect.” Ripping your clothes off your body, he lay you down on the nest to try and get to you quickly.

You were breathing heavily as everything felt so hot. “Katsuki.” You let out lowly. “Help.” You whined. “I need help.” You let out needily. You weren’t even sure what was wrong with you, but you were in desperate need of anything to make the blooming heat and ache go away.

He smirked down at you diabolically. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He assured you as you were finally naked underneath him. It was like this that he realised how small you were compared to him. How you were only but a small fraction of his actually size and weight against yours. It only made him grin wider. His eyes roamed your body, settling on your sex with interested eyes. He moved down towards it. He watched with interest and curiosity. “...not like the others...” He mumbled to himself.

He pushed a finger inside nearly making you sit up abruptly with a gasp. He noted down that reaction in his head. He moved his finger in and out of you with his eyes hypnotised on your sex and the noises it made. A shiver ran down your back as you moved a hand back to grab onto his tail for support. Instantly Bakugou flicked his eyes up. In some consolation for you, he wrapped the end of his tail around your hand for you to squeeze to your heart’s content.

He then noticed your clit. He tilted his head to the side confused. As he forced in another finger inside you, he brushed the pad of his thumb down against it. With the venom running through your vains, everything felt like it was an overload of friction and stimulation that your body wasn’t ready for. You gasped as your walls clamped down on Bakugou’s fingers in need and frustration. He raised an eyebrow. He did it again and this time you freely let out a moan out into the air.

Bingo.

He knew what he wanted to do next. He curved his fingers inside as he moved them around the inside of your gummy walls. He smirked at the way your insides squelched around his fingers. Bakugou brought his mouth to your clit linking across the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped as you squeezed his tail and wrapped your thighs around his head. “Katsuki!” You cried out his name loudly, echoing off the walls only encouraging his efforts. He started to lap at your lips and the juices escaping you, as if it was the only sustenance on earth to satisfy his hunger. “Fuck, just like that Katsuki! Just like that. Don’t stop.” You encouraged him.

Bakugou tried his best to work open your hole as best as he could. He couldn’t hurt you so he needed to make sure that you would be worked open as best as you would allow him. Then again, he wouldn’t mind hurting you. It made it all the more delicious to him in the end, but he chose your comfortability over what aroused him the most. With a scrap to a spot that had you seeing stars, you clamped down on his thick fingers harshly.

You arched your back with a cry. “Fuck!” You cry out as you could barely breathe. Your walls spasming and working to try and knead his fingers for something he couldn’t give you from them. He gently guided you out of your high allowing you to finally get air back into your lungs. You sighed as you collapsed down back into the soft nest below you.

He finally relents allowing to relax below him. Your breathing heavily, trying to fill back up your lungs. Bakugou stands over you, licking his hand of your juices, not wanting to waste a single drop of it. He grinned down at you sinfully. “You taste impeccable, my little Y/N.” He spoke down to you menacingly. “Better than any of the other females I’ve come across. I might just want to keep you like this.” His eyes unbashful looked over you in your recovering state, your legs still spread for his eyes to easily see your sex. “But I have plans for here.” He dragged a hand back down to your cunt, brushing against your clit making you whimper. He chuckles.

Bakugou picks you up to wrap your legs around his waist perfectly. You looked back up at him, then your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull once you realised that suddenly he had two cocks when he didn’t even have one visible to you before. You looked down at them in horror before looking back up at him. Bakugou chuckles menacingly as he lines both cocks with your entrance.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

“Katsuki, wait I- FUCK!” You screamed as he bullied his cocks into the depths of your tightness. Long painfully cocks that forced your sex to stretch and allow space for the both of them. Although Bakugou beant down to bite your neck once more to allow more venom inside you, to relax you more. Once it reached your heart, pumping fast around your body, you felt yourself gasp in pleasure as the stretch turned absolutely delicious within you. “Katsuki...” Your eyes rolled back as you moaned out his name.

Said naga bit down on his bottom lip as he forced himself inside you. You felt so good, so tight and so warm. He almost fell in love with the feeling. Hypnotised by your body and all it could give him. He could see a belly bulge forming in your lower abdomen which only made him happier to do this. He had broken skin on his lip but he couldn’t will himself to care. He was going to fuck your cunt into submission, make you feel every ounce of pleasure so hard that you wouldn’t know what to do but to stay with him and continue to scream his name.

He was sure of that.

And that’s exactly what he did as he slowly pulled back and slammed back into you with a fluid movement of his hips. It only made you moan and gap as you arched your back forcing yourself closer to him. Your hands clawing down his back as he fucked you hard and vengefully almost. It felt more like he was fucking you like he hated you, which made it even more delicious. Pure rage and animal instinct to claim and break you down into submission. That’s what it was. He grinned down at you almost as though he was taking absolute pleasure from destroying your insides.

Bakugou moved his mouth to your neck and shoulders, biting and kissing your body as he saw fit. Wanting to make you a masterpiece of his bites. All you could do was allow him to use you. You couldn’t even complain if you wanted. You sounded pornographic, as if you were nothing but a whore to his cocks. Which at this point, wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

He groaned as he fucked up into you harder, increasing speed as he did so. “Fuck! You’re so fucking good for me. Yes, you fucking are. You want me to cum inside you? Make you my little cum filled mate. My little bearer? If we wait a little longer, I’m sure you could give me the best hatchlings, can’t you?” He asked you, hissing his fantasies into your ear. He moaned as he held onto you tighter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” With a roar, his body shivered as his cocks spurt hot cum inside you. With a whine of overstimulation as your cunt milked his cocks, he fucked his cum deeper inside you.

He held you tightly, not letting go even after he had finished. His breathing heavy as he kept you resting over his heart. He cupped your head as he made sure you were not going anywhere. Not like you could even move, but it was the thought that counted. Just before you could drift off to sleep, you felt something rubbing the top of your head. You weakly looked up to see Bakugou happily chinning the top of your head and trying to cuddle up to you. He even adorned a small, cute smile on your face, unlike any smile you had seen on his face before.

You smiled. It would all be worth it.

Midoriya jumped off his quadbike. He knew that stepping into the naga’s territory alone was a bad idea without Bakugou’s consent, but he couldn’t care less. It had been ten days since anyone had last seen you and like hell would he believe that you had just gotten lost in the forest, or you were off camping deep in the woods. People were stupid, but you didn’t look that stupid.

The green haired ranger held a scowl on his face as he moved forward towards where he knew the blond hybrid would be. From the tracker he had on Bakugou, he knew that the hybrid was in his cave. Midoriya just hoped that he wouldn’t find you as a corpse. “Y/N!” He shouted as he stepped forward to the opening of the cave, a hand to the side of the cave.

“Hey Deku!” You chirped out as you sat tightly in the coils of the now hostile naga that was glaring daggers at Midoriya. Bakugou’s pupils were thin as he glared at the green haired man. “How are you?” You asked.

Midoriya, glad that you were at least alive, also noticed that you were without clothes, at least not having a top, and your neck and shoulders were covered in bites. “I’m fine.” He called back out to you. “Are you alright?” He asked you.

“Yah!” You nodded your head. “Pretty warm actually, Katsuki just came from his nap.” You told him.

Midoriya nodded, turning his attention to the blond naga. He scowled his green jade eyes locking onto the snake hybrid. “Kacchan.” He let out darkly. “What have I told you about taking people? You can’t do that!” He shouted as he took a step closer making Bakugou hiss, however it didn’t scare Midoriya one bit.

Bakugou moved you further down his tail as he moved forward closer to Midoriya. “Listen here you walking bush.” He pointed a finger at Midoriya. “This is my mate, I am not letting you take them away from me.”

The ranger looked at Bakugou with an annoyed expression. “Kacchan, let me say this to you... I. Do. Not. Care.” He pronounced every word with emphasis. “This person has been missing for days and you’ve been hauling them up here like some prey you caught. Do you want me to get the spray bottle?” He threatened the blond making Bakugou back away with a glare and another hiss. Midoriya put his hand ready to grab the spray bottle of water he had by his waist. “Don’t think I won’t.” He threatened with wide eyes.

“I dare you t- OW!” Katsuki grabbed something that landed on his shoulder blade. He growled as he wrenched it out of his shoulder. He held it in his hand for both men to see. Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed. It was a tranquilizer dart. Midoriya’s eyes widened at the item in Bakugou’s hands.

“That won’t be necessary, Mr Midoriya.” You stated. Both males turned back to look at you. You stood with your jacket on, covering everything that was necessary. You held a tranquilizer in your hand. You threw it back into your bag, as you slowly moved towards the both of them. You pulled out a walkie talkie from the inner pocket off your jacket. You lifted it to your mouth. “Bring the chopper for relocation. I’ve got the albino naga contortix .” You said into the walkie talkie.

It buzzed. “Stand by Y/N. We’re heading there now.” A voice rang through the walkie talkie.

Bakugou froze as he looked at you confused. “Y-” He felt his body start to go limp as he found it difficult to stay up right. Against his will he started to fall. He barely caught himself with his hands as you walked forward to him.

You shushed him sweetly, bending down to put your hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” You spoke almost condescendingly as you messaged his skelp. You watched his eyes focus and unfocused on you. Trying to keep you in his line of sight. He tried to lift his head closer to you with a small broken expression. He whined, unable to talk to you. You shushed him quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. When you wake up you’ll be in a much better place with me. I promise, my love.” You spoke softly to him. You placed a kiss to his forehead just as he dipped into unconsciousness. You smiled down at Bakugou with a sweet smile. You knew he would be pissed at you for lying to him, but it would be alright in the end. “You can stand down now, Mr Midoriya.” You flicked your eyes back up to him. His face emotionless as he stared back at you. You stood back up and took out an identification card of the Yuuie Hybrid Nature Reserve Group. “We received your message.” You notified him.

“You guys took your damn time.” He finally spoke, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know how draining it is working undercover as a ranger? Also...” He lifted an eyebrow as his facade of sparkling eyes and broad shining smile left his face. “They sent you?” He asked. “To seduce him? Who even are you?”

You chuckled. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to play dumb and compliant for a male to get enchanted by you.” You glanced back up at him. Midoriya didn’t like the way you were looking up at him so intently, it made him feel almost as if he had been unknowingly played. You shrugged. “Besides, someone has to handle him when he’s back at Yuuie.” You informed the green haired man. You outstretched a hand to him. “Lets try this again. Y/N. Naga expert and hybrid rehabilitator.” You informed him.

Midoriya smirked as he took your hand. “Well, its glad to finally meet you. Glad they finally got someone for the position.” He stated. Midoriya was in a higher position than you in the company, and well renown too. You weren’t the least bit surprised that he was able to stay close to Bakugou as long as he did. “Midoriya Izuku. Hybrid Chief Co-ordinator and orientation master.” He shifted his gaze down to the naga. “What is going to happen now?”

You bent down at the sleeping blond. Bakugou’s face was relaxed and without worry as he was deep in sleep. You made sure to give him a high enough dosage that he would be well asleep. “Now... we take him to his new home.”

#naga bakugou #mha x y/n #bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #naga bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou x gender neutral reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugou smut

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voidcat · 2 years

Text

— what the cat dragged in

characters: papa emeritus iii/you, cardinal copia, nameless ghouls, sister imperator

wc & genre/notes: 8.1k – strangers to friends/lovers, fluff, suggestive content (minor discussion of kinks and terzo being terzo during mummy dust. That part starts with “I’d say you’re deflecting,” and ends with the divider.) neighbors au, reader has a cat… I’ll b honest idk what else to say

a/n: this is My blog and I get to choose how cringe I want to be. Yes I said I’d not write for ghost and did it anyways after one (1) bad day. Yes this file is titled “hatehatehatemyself” on Google drive. The part after the burgundy divider is an optional ending. You can read the entire thing as platonic or slowly growing into something romantic. have fun x

Head turned left and right, looking around, no sign around.

The neighborhood is rather quiet today, the sun up and everyone out, at work or else. Rustling of grass with each breeze reaches your ears, and each time you whip your head toward the direction with hope.

In a breath, you cross the road and walk and walk and walk. It’s a long one, not unbearably so but still a little unnerving. You don’t recall many people going this way after all.

Now standing before the grand door, the little mailbox a few meters away awfully standing out, you raise your fist and knock.

And wait.

And waiting you do for almost a minute, if it weren’t for the noises you hear, a clutter of something, a shatter there and finally footsteps.

The door swings open– though it looks too heavy to be opened just like that and the man stands tall before you, forearm resting against the frame, leaning his entire weight to it, eyes barely open and you don’t need to see the barely filled bottle he holds to tell he is drunk.

The scent of alcohol reeks off him just enough.

Your nose scrunches up at the smell.

Squinting his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light coming from the sun, he doesn’t acknowledge you right away.

You doubt he has noticed you.

Isn’t it a bit too early to be drinking like this already? He looks trashed, to say the least.

Then he seems to notice you, though he makes so little movement to fix his posture, the belt tied around his waist barely doing its job to hold the robe together.

Decent on the eyes, you’d have thought for the guy, if it wasn’t for the weird face paint.

Getting too far and a little too early on the halloween spirit?

“Ah…” you clear your throat and try again. “So you see, my cat was lost and–”

“Oh perfect! That’s just lovely now.” he cuts you off, quite loud too. Head thrown back, he holds a sneer. “And what, little one ? Decided to come here and accuse us?” bottle dropped on the floor, rolls off to the side, hitting to an end by the door frame.

With both hands free, he throws them up in mockery, mimicking what you can only think to be a kid’s voice: “‘ Oh no the big bad mean satanists stole my cat and used it for their sick rituals. ’” hands dropped to his sides immediately as he is done with his imitation, he glares down at you: “Well guess what? Buzz off! As if I don’t have enough bullshit to deal with right now. Go find a more creative way to get in sherlock.”

So they were satanists after all…

Good to know you suppose, not that you care in all honesty. The whole church-like air of the building only gets more confusing for you though.

Before he can close the door to your face, you place your palm against it to stop him. “Hey!”

The force behind the door comes to a pause, probably didn’t expect you to fight back.

“Listen, Mr. Halloween or whatever poor Jack Skellington look you were going for.” you begin speaking, ignoring the way his face morphs into pure confusion. “How about you listen to people before barking assumptions at them?”

A moment of breath, the resistance behind the door ends completely and he opens it full again, waiting for you to continue but doesn’t seem all too happy.

“My cat likes to go outdoors and one of my neighbors said to me once that he often visits this place. So can I please come in?”

Seeing it written clear that you won’t be leaving any time soon, the guy sighs and steps aside. “Don’t touch anything and don’t leave my sight.”

Footsteps echoing in the hallways, you ‘pspsps’ here and there in hopes of your cat turning around but to no avail.

It’s only when passing a door that the guy pauses and curses to himself, you can hear the hints of an accent.

Turning to face him, he takes in your raised brow as a question.

“Copia has rats– pet rats. Your cat better be a vegan because I will not deal with his whole…” he gestures with his hand at nothing, “mourning or Sister Imperator’s reprimanding if a single one of them is missing.”

“Mr. Whiskers is a well behaving, domesticated cat with manners, thank you very much.” you say and turn your head with a huff.

Copia? Imperator? You have no idea who these guys are but you’re sure you can handle a couple of …dorky satanists, if the rest of them are just like this man baby at least.

You can always leave town before night too, if it comes down to it.

Only few steps away and the man watches as you disappear, yelling after you about ‘what did he say’ and all that bullshit but you couldn’t care any less because there he is, your precious baby!

All pulled up into a cozy little furry ball by the corner under a window, in what appears to be someone’s bedroom.

Pretty messy too.

The man seems to catch sight of you and say something he thinks is amusing, or sleek, from the tone he uses, though you pay no attention to his words or how they suddenly run dry. (‘ well if your eye on me the whole time, you didn’t need to make up an excuse about a lost c –’)

Picking up your cat despite his protests, you turn and thank him with a nod. His words register in your mind with a small delay.

“Maybe consider tidying up your room, what are you, twelve?” and with that, you exit his warzone of a room and walk back the path you took, with Mr. Whiskers purring in your arms the entire walk home.

The second time your cat goes missing while you’re home, you know better.

Instead of wasting hours searching around, you hike up all the way to that dreaded place and knock on the door with force and impatience.

It is a woman who answers instead.

A woman who does not seem to be the slightest bit impressed.

Staring at her bored face, you take notice of her clothes you can deem as formal for the place, the sound of fabric brushing as she crosses her arms, you snap out of it, trying to formulate the words regarding your cat and and all.

Whatever thought seems to pass her mind, you conclude that she doesnt care and watch as she leaves the door open, walking back inside. So you hurriedly follow.

“Sleek, black hair you said?” she asks, still walking ahead as you nod– shit, satanist or not, she can’t have an eye at the back of her head now; letting out a hum of affirmation you fasten your steps and try to walk by her side.

Steps come to a halt before a closed door, she knocks firmly, once.

Upon receiving no answer whatsoever, she rolls her eyes and opens the door.

They must have quite the savings you think, to have a place with soundproof walls and doors. The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin, breathy moans and all, you wonder to yourself, couldn’t your cat have picked somewhere …normal to take his afternoon naps.

Paying the scene before her eyes no mind, the woman steps in– is that who the man referred to as Sister Imperator?, and you catch her words about grabbing the darn cat now and continuing his pity party later.

The sounds of sex stop and you can hear someone walking around all the while mumbling something.

Before you can thank the woman however, she turns and walks away.

Less than a minute later the same man from before peeks out his head through the door.

Wearing a different robe this time and doing a poor job of holding your cat, though Mr. Whiskers doesn’t seem to mind, the traitor, he watches as you take the cat from his arms.

As you turn to leave and call it a day, maybe open a bottle of wine and see where the night takes you, a ‘hey!’ catches up to you from behind.

Leaning against the door frame like he did the first time, he waits for you to face him.

“Just let me know next time your cat comes over. I doubt neither you nor Sister would like to become frequent acquaintances.”

You eye him with a suspicious look. Sure the woman does seem like if she sees you 3 times a week or more for your cat, she might sacrifice you and Mr. Whiskers to Lucifer with her bare hands but hey, you cannot control who answers the door now.

As if sensing your train of thought, or, a part of it, he lets out a sigh, “My windows are pretty wide. Pretend they’re doors or something.”

“...right.” Sounds more and more reassuring with each word for sure, great , thank you Mr. Whiskers.

Then an after thought seems to follow as a whine can be heard from inside his room, “ Just – maybe let me know ahead before you come through the window, yeah ?”

“And I should do that, how?” you ask, wishing the whole encounter to be over “I don’t want you charging me if a stone happens to find its way in.”

From how he mumbles the words ‘charging’ and ‘stone’ confused, it seems to be taking him a while to register your words.

The implication of your words seem to dawn in as his face goes down “Last I checked, cellphones exist.” he states, not sounding too happy about the possible danger his precious windows may face.

“And how should I know this isn’t some weird excuse to get my number?” you sound skeptical, on the edge, probably finger hovering over that dial button to the police if it wasn’t for the cat in your arms.

At your words though, he chuckles. “I do have a girl in my bed right now, you know?”

“And my question remains unchanged.” staring at him with a dead serious expression, you watch as his amused face falls, his eyes rolling and he shoves a hand down one of his pockets, taking out a pen.

Expectant eyes on you– wait, what is up with his eyes? , he pushes off the cap, shaking his left arm so the robe’s arm can slide off, revealing his skin, waiting. Waiting for you.

“You better not send me any weird crap or call-” you state then say out your phone number.

Well, worst comes to worst, you know a good lawyer.

Third time's the charm is how the saying goes. You have your doubts but perhaps there is truth to it as the man’s ridiculous window idea works.

It takes no time to figure out Mr. Whiskers spends his afternoons there because the rays of sunlight hit just right, and right next to where he sleeps is a comfortable armchair with black and white hair decorating its surface a little.

Few steps ahead of his windows, the view of a wonderful garden has attracted your attention but you know better than to ask, or enter without permission. The amount of times you’ve dropped by increases at record speed, yet the air between you both is still tight.

He lets out a warm laugh when he gets a good look at him once, but when you ask, you get no reply. Surely this cannot be the first tuxedo cat he has ever seen in his life.

One silence after another, he must've sensed how tense and awkward it feels too, as a little after he tries to make conversation and apologize.

So they are a satanic organization, that’s fine.

You’ve always wondered as a kid about the gatherings you’d see within a distance but never bothered to check for yourself.

A rock band to spread their word and message however, now that is odd. You’re starting to think their anti church might be the most normal thing to them.

Yet you remain your silence and let him speak, listen, and try to make as much sense of them as you can because god knows you won’t be leaving this place any time soon.

He says he is– was the frontman of the band, and their beloved antipope , but was dethroned , or so he claims, few days prior to your arrival.

You can understand frustration over something you have dedicated your time and effort into, and for you to be pulled off it without a logical explanation. That explains drinking until the brain shuts down despite that scent of alcohol still stings your senses.

Nodding to his words, you take his apology and leave with Mr. Whiskers that day. He asks if you’d like to see the garden the next time your legs are dangling off the windowsill.

You accept in a heartbeat.

With the weather warming up and all, your cat seems to enjoy the garden as much as you do.

Trees and flowers of all kinds tended to with care and love, you can tell. Each arranged with care, the entire place paints a beautiful picture before your eyes, and endless too.

Same as the window, this becomes a habit too. To stroll in the garden and sit on one of the stone benches, talking or staying like this in silence.

He seems fond of Mr Whiskers for reasons unknown to you, until he pulls out a photograph of someone in what you make out to be a tuxedo of sorts, on a stage no less.

The photograph is of small scale, you cannot make out much of the details, so he takes it upon himself to explain that it is indeed him in the photo and the looks of your cat caught him by surprise because of his looks.

Without waiting for a reaction, he offers to show you the outfit he wore back then, though he sounds a little melancholic about the whole thing still.

Sure , you agree, but keep it to yourself that the regency shirt and black pants look just fine on him.

It blurs at one point you begin visiting even without Mr. Whisker’s presence in his room.

Bursting out into laughter, he looks almost offended at your reaction. “I’m sorry-” your giggles break through as you wipe off a tear, “what did you say it was again?”

“Emeritus.” he says flatly.

“Emeritus.” you repeat, this time doing a better job at containing the giggling.

“Yes, Emeritus,” he says again and adds, “The third.”

If your laughter before was loud, this is something beyond, enough to make him go deaf in comparison.

“Okay no, I’m not calling you-” you bring your hands up to finger quote, “Emeritus The Third.” you say in a serious tone. “And I’m certainly not calling you ‘papa’ or some bullshit title.” you cut in before he can get a word out.

“We’re going to need a nickname, what about ‘em’?”

“Em.” his tone asking ‘are you for real?’, his turn to repeat now.

“Okay no, that’s just as bad, give me some time to th-” hand covering his face, he just shakes his head with a sigh.

“Just call me Terzo , caro mio.”

Seeing as to no reply from you comes, he removes his hand and looks up. “It means ‘ the third ’ in Italian.”

“Oh,” you manage to say, though you do sound a little different now, perhaps you thought from his reactions you hurt him and now feel sorry about that?

“Yeah, I can do that, Terzo.” speaking with more confidence now, testing the name on your tongue, you talk more to yourself and nod your head than to him– he finds watching you act like this, how you operate and think as you talk endearing.

You find yourself liking spending time with Terzo more than you’ve realized.

Work is work, adulting is the same and sometimes relationships with friends feel dull or far away.

To say the least, he is interesting. Usually something to catch you off guard or wondering, it is guaranteed your time with him is never one to fall victim to boredom.

So he speaks of his life, of things he has done on the road and whatnot, even going as far to recreate when he tried to kick off a beach ball only to fall, basking in the waves of your laughter, even complaining to him by nighttime that your face hurts from laughing so much.

In return you feel you don’t have as exciting stories but he listens as if they’re the most wonderful things he has ever heard.

You deem them mundane and every time without a beat, he says only to you.

It comes down to, more like remembering, those scenes from when you were a kid.

He is awfully quiet that day, when you speak of seeing figures in black walking in tow, a kid or two that seemed to be your peers but how their estate in the eyes of some were off limits, and it was always at an odd time for you to be walking up there and talk with the kids.

A shame, the two of you could’ve met much earlier, yet he doesn’t voice it and you do not realize it.

Of all the things he has experienced recently, entering his room, to a bed unmade, finding you wrapped in the covers and sound asleep, would score high on Terzo’s list of things he wouldn’t expect– that is, if his brain could even muster up such a scene.

He doesn't need to, though, as it becomes real before his eyes and he makes way for the loveseat that night.

He doesn’t pry about it and all you say under your breath is that you felt lonely.

‘What about Wh-’ before he can ask, you open the covers partly to reveal that Mr. Whiskers is indeed with you, in his bed.

He just hopes the cat won’t switch his usual spot for his bed when he comes next time.

The nightly visits from you start to occur more, by the third time he knows it’ll become another constant, though not as frequent.

You do appear upset that he has to sleep on the couch, yet he waves his hand dismissively, that he doesn’t mind– he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or cross any unnamed boundaries. Which is a little outside the usual for him, he is known for being bold, for holding and kissing hands and doing much more when he can even smell from a kilometer away the slightest of interest the other party has in him.

The next time it repeats, he is startled by a sudden noise as he makes for the couch as always. Turning on his heel only to see you patting the spot next to you in his bed.

Sure, it is a spacious bed, more than enough space for the both of you, and Mr. Whiskers, yet he still feels tense about the whole situation.

What if he wraps an arm around you or something in his sleep and you wake up angry, that he jumped into conclusions, that this wasn’t what you wanted at all and that you’ll never visit again and file a restra–

“You think too much.”

You draw him out of his pocket sized crisis with few words and a flock on his forehead. “Keep doing that and you’ll end up with wrinkles in no time.”

What else can he do but chuckle at that and sink into sleep, safe and sound?

Wine is a skillful loosener, as the two of you rediscover together.

On days you stick around for longer, he makes his offer– though you refuse it as much as you can.

Despite dropping by unannounced after a while, you haven't walked into any intimate moments. And against your initial claim, your phone does get bombarded, usually photos of Mr. Whiskers when Terzo catches a glimpse of him, or when he thinks he is being adorable.

The latter is worse, because Terzo always finds him adorable once he warms up to the cat. The way he acts through text makes you picture him lying on the floor, hands supporting his chin, legs behind him dangling in the air, watching the unknowing cat as he sleeps or does the most mundane cat thing anyone can think of.

Neither of you are aware just how fascinating mundane is to him.

You can sense his pout from meters away.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” you put down the stacked papers. “What is it?”

Crossing his arms, he turns away partially, grumbling under his breath, “I don’t know what youre talking about.”

Getting closer to Terzo means many things, witnessing the absolute manchild that resides in him included.

Picking up your phone to turn the volume down, your eyes find his figure again– either he resembles Mr. Whiskers more than you gave them credit for or your time spent with him making you delusional. “Out with it already,” his form shrinks only further, “or no more visits from me or Mr. Whiskers.”

Now that , gets his attention.

Eyes focused somewhere near your face intentionally, he almost appears reluctant to say the words.

“How come you never listen to any of my songs?”

It takes you few seconds longer to register his words.

Before you can answer, he begins rambling, so rushed and in a whisper, all you can hear is few words in italian, which you’re sure are curses slipping his tongue and terms of endearment.

“I just… forgot?” you offer with a shrug.

Okay, maybe not the best response as this gets him to throw his arms into air, “ mio satana , you are unbelievable.” a finger pokes into your side, you haven't even realized he already crossed the distance between you both.

So he gets jealous when you listen to other musicians, huh , you save the information for future use.

As you begin laughing, he chuckles, muttering under his breath. “I guess, I’ll have to bring a ritual to your feet.”

It goes unknown to you that Terzo semi-regularly orders cat food for Mr. Whiskers, not that the cat ever seemed to be hungry when he was there, but hey, cannot hurt to try. If the cat only decides to visit him, with you in cue, more often, now there is no harm in that.

Another thing unbeknownst to you, is that, despite the distance between their estate and your house, Terzo can spot your lights without much effort.

If he were to dramatize the entire thing between you both and more, he’d refer to it as a beacon of light. But he doesn’t need to, because there is nothing more to what it is between the two of you, even if unnamed, even when he cannot help wondering “ what if …”, wondering if he is misinterpreting things.

So when he doesn’t see the lights turn on by the night time one evening, he doesn’t care, maybe the power went out, maybe you just want to try something different for a change. He certainly doesn’t care in the morning when he sees a second figure come out of the door, or when you drop by later that evening, a throbbing headache and ‘ long day at work’ you just murmur as you fall asleep on his shoulder.

You accept the wine when you're taking another stroll in the gardens.

With the weather beginning to cool down, you welcome its warmth to your very bones.

Booze loosens your tongue first, and soon your senses, your train of thought. Whether it’s a good thing or not that you’re not the only victim… you don't know.

“Was it worth it at least?” he muses as you’re seated on the same bench, glasses sat on the ground.

You twist your face, trying to recall, “Once I tuned his voice out, yeah I guess?” he snorts at your words, “Isn’t this the usual case?”

“Nah,” you drag the word as you reach for your glass, “He could also suck in bed. So the entire night wasn’t a waste I suppose. Never going back to that place though, I’m picky for a reason.”

You say the words more to yourself as a mantra than anything, Terzo watching you with a giggle hanging on his lips.

“Bad drinks as well?”

“It’d be charity to call them as such, ugh,” with a sigh, you drink down the remaining half of your wine, tipping the empty glass to his direction.

Taking your glass, he switches it with his and you take no time to bring it back to your lips.

“But this?” you raise the glass, “now that is a quality product.”

With another chuckle, he reaches for the bottle and fills the empty glass in his hand.

The topic of your recent and unfortunate endeavors morph into complaining about work, people in the streets, weird posts on the internet and whatnot.

“Okay, okay,” you try to speak inbetween laughter, “so what about weird preferences when it comes to sex?”

He just gives you a teasing smirk as you place your finger on his lips as a means to shush him “we already know weird shit and food combinations the other likes, consider this a slight change of topic.”

“I’d say you’re deflecting, but alright, I’ll buy.” he shrugs, throwing his head back to drink from the bottle– the glasses cast aside an hour or so ago.

“Any kink you can think of, I’m most likely into already, so just ask me yourself.”

You bring a finger to your chin, contemplating what to say for a moment, “Socks stay on or?..” you let your voice trail off, gazing at him from the side with a smile.

Bringing a hand over his heart and another against his forehead, he faces you fully and lets out a loud gasp. “Caro mio! You wound me. I might be the antipope but I am not a lunatic!”

He opens one eye to seize your reaction, and when your gazes meet, both of you burst into laughter.

“But the face paint stays on, no?” you gesture to your face once you stop clutching your stomach.

“Everyone has a preference, tesero.” he shrugs.

Considering his position and the closest people he can find to fuck, it does add up, you suppose.

“Now enough about me, what about you ?” He leans in to you, flashing his teeth. Not letting him get to him, you snatch the bottle from his hand.

“What about me, indeed huh? Just your basic, vanilla bullshit.” you close your eyes as you gulp down the wine.

Your comment only ignites him further, with another chuckle, he scoots closer, “You? Vanilla? I’d beg to differ,” and again, with the poking to your sides, he pleads “Don’t keep your papa waiting now.” “Okay first of all–”

You snap your head to him, only to be nose to nose, “ Not the ‘p’ word, we went over that ages ago, not calling you that.”

“Only because you’re being such a tease,” he sing-songs, his head thrown back.

“You are such a child,” you mumble as you place the bottle between your legs, hands gripping its neck.

“Biting, I suppose.” You can hear him open an eye and look your way, “Nothing extreme as I said, but people aren’t exactly dying to be covered in red and purple, you know?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” he answers, “their loss.”

You can sense he wants to pry further but keeps himself, and hell , the wine is good, there is another bottle waiting by his foot, and compared to the amount of black mail-level footage of him you've got, this feels like nothing.

“Taking risks.” you say in a whisper, partially hoping he doesn’t hear.

“Now, this falls vague, bella.” he says. “Risks of conceiving, catching STDS–” he begins counting with a finger,

“ No ! I said risks , not being an idiot.” You cut in, a hand covering your face.

You know he is waiting with that smug smirk, “risks of getting caught, like, dunno , semi public spaces and the likes?” you ask more than speak, meeting his gaze as you finish speaking.

“So that’s where the biting comes,” he speaks in a knowing tone, “leaving telltale marks blooming everywhere?” he muses as his hand begins to move, finger grazing against your skin.

“Like this?” he asks, hand going up and drawing patterns on your thigh, slowly going up, his eyes gauging your expression.

“...yeah” you say in a breath, letting his hand reach the inner side of your thigh. A finger flicks against the bottle, drawing out a trembling note, making your eyes flash though all your times here, you never saw anyone else in the gardens.

The bottle has long gone warm but his hand feels cold against your leg, you’re aware of his eyes locked on your face yet make no haste to draw yours away from the plants up ahead.

His hand begins to travel upwards, making way to fiddle with the hem, going under and his skin meeting yours.

Before he can do anything further however, you both jolt with the sudden noise coming from behind, between the windows.

“Cazzo!” he mutters and gets up, making way to enter his room through the windows.

While waiting for him, you go for the other bottle, pouring yourself some more wine, at least with a glass, you can keep count.

Pausing to listen around, you hear the commotion has died down.

Picking up the other glass and hoisting the empty bottle under your arm, you make way for the stained glass windows you’ve grown familiar with over the course of time.

Terzo doesn't seem to pay much mind to the interruption though, the conversation picks up from where it left, now talking in a more general sense.

“You give off vibes of someone who’d make a sex playlist,” you begin as he listens with a nod, “ and add your songs to it.”

“As I said gioia, everyone has their preferences.” he reaches to take the bottle from you, not expecting your arm to draw back, “yet I cannot help but be upset,” he sheds a nonexistent tear, “that you think my thrust game is so weak.”

Seeing as you freeze at his words, he takes a step to you, grabbing the bottle from your hand with a smile and places it down, not stepping back afterwards. “If you want a demonstration though, I am always happy to help.”

As if your silence was anything to go by, now it is deafening, the warmth and flush of your skin; you’re unsure if the cause is alcohol or him .

“And I did promise a demonstration of my songs to you before, didn’t I?” he says as he takes another step your way.

“So you see, we got this fan favorite song, Mummy Dust,” he speaks while pretending to be interested in the ceiling, gesturing with a hand in the air, “but not because of the lyrics.” he remarks with a smug expression, redirecting his gaze to you as he takes another step, barely any space left separating the two of you.

You’re unsure what to say or do, when left alone in a room with a bunch of people wearing identical masks.

You think, Terzo must’ve pulled a rope here and there, or acted in secrecy considering his sudden drop of position in the band, to have gotten into this studio– and bringing you no less.

The people he referred to as Nameless Ghouls stare at you, and you back at them. You can imagine the confusion they must be going through.

Then the man of the hour reappears with a clap of hands, dressed up in an outfit resembling a suit, and his previous remark at Mr. Whiskers suddenly comes back to you, finally making sense.

A concert– or a ritual, as he put it, he promised and one he delivers.

A ghoul begins playing his guitar in sync with the drums, as two of them walk to stand at their both sides and with a sudden stomp of foot, they all play in, in a fashion you can describe as ‘ knocking the wind out of your lungs .’

Only when Terzo’s singing, and soon the instruments coming to a stop that you realize you've been holding your breath the whole time. And quickly find out you may as well die due to lack of oxygen by the time the day comes to an end if they only keep up this momentum.

One song after another, they captivate you gradually. Be it the way the ghouls play or the way Terzo moves as he sings, radiating with energy. Walking around and messing up with one another, bothering each other at times– it all creates the illusion of a found family.

Briefly moving his hand, the ghouls pick acoustic guitars once another song comes to an end.

After each song he tells its name and some information– or funny memories he finds important you know.

With a signal of his hand, the ghouls switch to acoustic guitars and Terzo begins humming: “a one, a two, three, and four.“

With a move of his hand, they all enter the song.

One hand in a fist, resting against his hip and the other in front of him, he sways his hips softly as he sings.

It doesn’t miss your attention how some of his moves arent as innocent or random as they seem– when he brings his other hand to join the stray one, hoisting them up in the air as if holding something, or how after he holds the microphone with one hand and violates the poor stand with his fingers. Hands thrown into the air and shaking in the air as a ta-da once in a while, he takes a step back to point at one of the ghouls’ playing.

The song comes to an end and you think you’ve done good so far– then he decides to announce that the song is called Jigolo Har Meggido and you burst into laughter, leaving the men in the room utterly confused.

It takes several minutes for you to gather yourself, wipe away the tears all the while ignoring Terzo hovering over you with concern, unsure whether to approach you or leave you be in your violent laughter.

“I’m sorry-” your words die in your throat as another wave of laughter takes over again, “it’s just-” hand clutching over your stomach, you do your best to look up, “you do re-”, meeting his face only makes you laugh again.

A tap on your shoulder distracts you a little. Taking the water bottle one of the ghouls have brought to you, in your frenzy you didn’t even realize him leaving, you take a few sips to calm your nerves.

“I know you’re flirty and all, but witnessing you calling yourself a manwhore caught me off guard.”

Definitely not something worth laughing to that extent over, Terzo doesn’t say a word and instead flashes you a toothy grin.

“You’d be surprised to hear it was his brother who wrote this song.” you hear someone say, the same ghoul from before.

“Ah!” Terzo waves a hand dismissively in the air, “enough talk of that geezer. Now , what do you say to a grammy winning original?”

The ghouls slowly begin as Terzo walks back, their eyes on him and his hands, watching every move and tilt, following his guidance. Compared to the other songs they’ve played so far, this one comes off much softer, gentler, making you wonder what will come next.

Raising both hands in the air as if in praise, the ghouls all stop and silence takes over, waiting, and with his signal, they enter the song, picking up stronger than where they left off.

The melody matches the lyrics somewhat, the impression of a thunder, it builds up and carries smoothly.

He begins singing what you assume to be the second verse, drawing closer to you at a steady pace. His voice becomes the only thing you hear as the instruments falter and die out, quietening one by one. The microphone now held in his left, his right hand reaches out to hold yours, bringing it up near his face as he keeps singing: “ Can't you see that you're lost without me?”

And with it, they all reenter the song with a bang, your hand still in his, Terzo kisses the back of it in between lyrics and steps back to his initial position.

Drumming his fingers in the air, swaying them at the direction of either of the ghouls, they all circle around the keyboard playing ghoul as the song shifts into an instrumental part.

Eyes never leaving theirs, especially not his, not when he makes sure to lock his with you, you watch the entire performance almost in a trance, mind going blank.

When the song ends, you can see his expectant looks on you, already beaming with whatever compliment he’s positive you’ll be giving him.

So you decide to pick the teasing route.

“It was nice.” he stares at you, his face clearly showing he wasn’t waiting to hear that. “Nice?..”

Humming in affirmation, you nod your head. “Yeah, nice.” tilting your head to the side, you speak up, “ Say , this helps you get some?”

The man stands there, blinking at you for what feels like eternity.

The ghouls in a similar stance, though you’re sure you’ve heard one of them snort, and another snicker.

The eternity ends with a shake of his head and a faint smile on his face. “Yes, sorella , it helps me …get plenty actually.” he uses your phrase.

“Well,” he clicks his tongue as he places the microphone back to its place, “if it’s a …meretricious song you desire, how about I give you,” his pace of speaking slows down, as if holding his breath, waiting for imaginary drum rolls: “Mummy Dust!” He drags the words in a low grumble, shaking his hands in the air once again.

From how he starts swaying and moving his hips, you immediately recognize the song.

As Terzo begins singing, the sound of a door opening and clicking close reach your ears and when you twist halfway in your seat, you see a man with pencil stache dressed up in black, his hat partially resembling a bat, same painted eyes and upper lip like Terzo yet lacking the rest of the face paint.

The man stills in place when he sees you, only gets his feet to move again when you pat the vacant spot near you.

Whispering greetings back and forth, you immediately remember his name.

“Ah you’re the Cardinal!” Your voice comes out a tad more excited than expected. The man on the other hand seems confused as to how you know him already.

“How are your rats? Happy, I hope. I am so sorry, I never got the chance to apologize to you or to them because of Mr. Whiskers.” The words leave your lips in a breath, leaving the man dumbfounded, repeating your cat’s name in confusion and unaware,

“ah, I-, my most sincere apologies, who?..”

“Mr. Whiskers, my cat, didn't Terzo t- oh.” Unfortunately the mention of a cat before you can stop makes his eyes go wide, and you try your best to assure him that your cat didnt even set foot into his room, somewhat calming the anxious man down.

The music on the other hand, as well as the singing, gets louder and a tad more aggressive.

Probably unhappy with how your attention was led somewhere other than him. So needy and grumpy, spoiled like a cat.

“Uh, we can save our discussing for after the song?” Cardinal suggests, to which you nod. “I'd hate to impose on this- uh, special performance his excellency was displaying for you.” He says, coughing on his words at the way Terzo moves.

“Its alright Cardinal. I was given a demonstration of this song already, I am not missing out on anything.”

Again, you must’ve said something wrong, because instead of relaxing, the Cardinal’s face tenses up and goes bright red.

“ Oh !” You wince, “poor choice of words on my behalf. That's not what I meant.” You try to offer an explanation with a sheepish smile, but to no avail.

At least Terzo looks quite pleased with the interaction, as clear from the smug expression taking over his face.

The previous incident– goes unaddressed between the two of you but the air between doesnt waver.

Still, it must have triggered some sort of change, you conclude, as Terzo’s texting habits only evolve into a different stage.

Sure, it went for quite a while that the initial purpose of exchanging numbers was abandoned yet he still possessed control, a sense of self restraint, when texting you.

Definitely the absolute opposite of whatever it is going on as of now.

Maybe you’ve spoiled him too much, your brain reaches another conclusion as the lips on your skin snap that thought in the middle, pulling you back into reality.

You still don’t visit him as regular as to say daily, or even biweekly– so you hold onto the benefit of doubt that he has absolutely no way of knowing youre busy trying to have a nice night, focused on pleasure and the feeling of euphoria–

Another vibrating sound against your nightstand cuts into the air, your sceeen lightning up right after.

You ignore it only so far until you find yourself scrolling and typing up a reply, the light coming from the screen reflecting against you and the man you’ve forgotten about already.

As you smile at his newest text, hearing that stupid whining of his voice and the pout, someone next to you clears his throat, snapping you back.

“Anything I should know about?” He only asks and in all honesty , you cannot blame the guy. You’d have reaches into equally ugly assumptions, were this to happen to you.

But it didnt, and it isn’t right now, so its only a little too late that you put yourself in his shoes.

“Nope.” You say, walking up to your bookshelf and placing the phone screen down, “just a friend.”

The guy hums, sounding skeptical but doesn't pry.

You give him the benefit of the doubt but few too many repeats and you know it's intentional.

You did spoil him too much it seems.

Another afternoon by his side, you're sitting on the window sill, one leg tucked under yourself, he is busy on the other side of the room, who knows what he is preparing this time.

“Wine?” he turns on his heel, holding a glass and the bottle’s neck tilted slightly already.

“None for me, thank you.”

Eyebrows raised in curiosity, a scheming expression takes over. “Ooh? Any plans for tonight?” He inquires. You don’t need to know that he is dreading the confirmation that'll leave your lips.

“I guess,” you shrug, turning to look outside the window, “promised Steve we’d spend the night together.”

Heavy silence spreads from your words and takes over the room.

The teasing remarks signature to his natural charm never comes and you turn your head to see if he even heard you in the first place… or left the room before you spoke… or somehow passed out in silence as you spoke.

Your worries ease upon seeing him standing there, still, not even a muscle moved from his last position, unreadable eyes staring at you.

Only when you tilt your head towards, asking ‘what’s wrong?’ and only then he snaps out of whatever trance he was in, coughs and tried to laugh it off with a ‘ have fun’ , pouring himself a glass.

Unbelievable.

Discreetly taking a sip from his wine to distract himself doesn't do much to ease him and the now unimpressed look you're giving him makes even the wine taste bitter on his tongue.

“Wh-“ “you are unbelievable.”

Okay, you don't just seem pissed, disappointed?, something definitely negative; you sound like it too.

“For wishing my friend a fun night?” And with a guy he has never heard you mention before– the word friend stings to say. “I’m sure Steve is a good gu-“ “ Again,” you dont let him finish, “you are unbelievable, absolutely childish and overall a great idiot.”

Okay now you're just being mean. A scowl makes its way to his face before he can even notice, making you shake your head in disbelief like a mother scolding her kids with a smile.

“If youre done with the insults cara,” he says and raises his glass, appearing pissed and upset as he downs the glass.

“Terzo, you met Steve.” His head snaps up at your words. “Steve?“ you repeat in question, “Steve Whiskers?” ‘ ring any bells? ’ He can hear you say in following–

The faint smile of yours slowly evolve in a giggle as you watch the gears turn in his head and finally connect the two and two together.

“The cat?!” His voice comes out louder than he meant to, suddenly straightening up and wiping invisible dust off his clothes, he clears his throat.

“Excuse me for my sudden input of volume.” You reply with a smile, “Send my best regards to Mr. Whiskers.”

You see the ghouls around few more times you're in the perimeter, as well as the scary woman from before.

Sitting in the gardens with Terzo again one warm afternoon and she passes in the distance, her eye catching sight of you no doubt.

Jumping in your stead, you rush to where she is. Terzo watches as you speak with more animatic gestures, Sister remaining stoic as always. You bring a hand up to scratch your head in unease, then holding out a box of sorts. As you are about to turn, he sees your body beam , most likely at something Sister has said as she walks away.

You pattle back to where he waits, trying to contain a big smile and pulling out few cookies from behind in surprise. Just as he does with anything else you offer, he devours the cookies, making sure to express his gratitude and worship before and after.

You settle back next to him, laughing at the way he acts as he ignores the crumbs on his thighs, resting your head against his shoulder and relaxing.

Yet you never tell him what it was Sister Imperator has said to you that got you in high spirits; not then, not later.

When you wake up with the sunlight grazing your face from the wrong direction, your first instinct is to return to sleep.

Having falling asleep by Terzo's side a reasonable amount of times now, it feels just as comfortable as your room. Despite his chest not being as soft as your pillow, the comfort of his mattress easily beating yours makes up for the loss.

Just as a content smile makes its way to your lips and you, more than eager to return to sleep, the situation of now sinks in and you can feel the warmth drain from your entire body.

Sure, this is not the first time you've found yourself falling asleep here, even in his arms, limbs tangled up no less; but all those instances contain one huge difference from the predicament you find yourself in now and it is last night.

Maybe you should pretend to stay asleep until he is summoned for anything, but the chances of this are dangerously slim. The light coming from between the curtains doesn't burn into your eyes just yet so it must still be fairly early, maybe you can sneak out before he can return from the land of dreaming. But that'd would leave bigger problems for future you and frankly? future you has gotten sick of your 'dancing around with nothing acknowledged' bullshit.

You take a deep breath, and shut your eyes further– hey perhaps they'll glue themselves together from how tight your muscles are contracting and with your sudden admittance to the hospital and the emergencu of the entire situation, it'll all get forgo–

A sudden noise stops your entire thought process crashing. A trainwreck, yes that's what this is.

Sucking a sharp breathe in, you think 'now or never', suck it up once and face on with courage.

Creaking one eye open and meeting Terzo's eyes on yours, every single muscle in his face loosened and his expression what you can only describe as to be 'at peace', all your anxiety from bare seconds ago gets washed down the drain.

And for the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to relax, fully, and bask in whatever the future– and he, along with it, will offer you.

1K notes · View notes

deathmetalangel · 1 year

Note

Hii! I’m literally carving smuts in these days, and I just finished Wednesday!!

I was thinking about a bsf to lovers, where reader and tyler have to hide from his dad because the reader is an outcast and they have to hide and sexual tension, or maybe the reader goes to the cafe during tyler’s night shift!!

Btw, have a good day xx

-anon 🍃

DO I MAKE YOU NERVOUS? (TYLER GALPIN X GN!READER)

warnings: sexual tension, age gaps (they're a ghost so), oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex, no implied afab or amab genitals for reader, creampie, l word, tyler almost transforming, mentions of death

tyler galpin has many secrets, his biggest isn’t the monster in his closet, it’s how stupid his closest ghost friend makes him

two requests in once since two people asked for tyler galpin smut teehee

A normie and an outcast? Who would've thought the two could even be friends. Especially between a lifeless ghost and and the son of the town Sheriff who was wary of the Nevermore students. Y/n was easily Nevermore's longest resident, but throughout their years at the academy they had never enjoyed their time quite like they did now.

That was thanks to Tyler Galpin. The 'human' boy had somehow charmed the young spirit. For a soul forced to damnation the current life they lived was surprisingly enjoyable. Even now, when they had to hide in Tyler's room whenever his dad barged in to speak with him about some random chore or another trivial topic.

Y/n waits until the coast is clear to appearate again. "Sorry about him, my dads just been on edge. With everything happening in town and all you know." Tyler apologizes for the constant intrusions.

"It's nothing really. I think of it as a way of practicing my spectral abilities more. So, thanks for the practice." Y/n smiles at the awkward boy. Of course they already knew his secrets, not that he was aware though. "So what movie were you going to show me?"

"Oh! Yeah, lemme grab it." Tyler rushes to his closet to find the dvd. Who still uses dvds? "I wanted you to watch American Psycho since you haven't seen it, which is still weird to me but whatever." Y/n watches him start up the movie while they float towards his bed and take a seat.

Tyler smiles and sits down next to y/n. While their eyes were fixated on the movie he kept glancing back at them, he was so desperate for their approval. Would they like the movie? Or think it was dumb? Think he was dumb? What if they hated him? His body tenses up when their hand lands next to his thigh.

It wasn't the temperature of their skin, it was how close they were to touching him. He glances back again, his eyes studying every feature on their face. It was almost impossible for him not too. Y/n seemed to notice the attention on them when they look back and see Tyler staring 'inconspicuously'. "You seen the movie too many times?"

Tyler's face turns red from being caught. "Uh, no I actually really like the movie. I just wanted to see if you were enjoying it." His lie was apparent, but y/n really didn't mind.

"Yeah I am. It's pretty good, although Im pretty impartial to 90s movies since, you know, that's when I died. The Craft was a good one." They smile at how nervous Tyler was getting. So, they slyly move their hand on top of his thigh. "What, you don't like that movie?"

He clears this throat awkwardly. "No no. I like that movie, a lot actually. It's really good."

"Are you just not feeling movies? We can do something else if you want, just say the word." He was freaking out at the implication. Were they just being a tease, or was y/n really implying something else.

Y/n smiles and slowly presses their body towards Tyler, like they were waiting for an answer. "We can do whatever you want to do, I have my xbox or-" His breath hitches when both of their hands are placed on his upper thighs. "Just pick," He mumbles trying and hoping that his blood doesn't all rush to his eager dick.

"That's all you want to do? Or I can suck your-" Tyler quickly covers their mouth when he hears loud footsteps coming upstairs. His heart was practically beating out of his chest until they faded away meaning his dad went back downstairs. "Oh yeah, I gotta be as quiet as a mouse." It was obvious y/n enjoyed teasing him.

Especially when they glanced down at the hard on that was prominently shown through his jeans. "What's the magic word Ty?"

"Please." He whispers partially out of breath from the tension he was experiencing. Y/n smiles while they promptly undo his belt and loosen his jeans. His dick was straining in his boxers, a sight to behold.

His breath catches in his throat when their hand begins to make contact with his aching cock. "You're quite a big boy aren't you?" He can't even respond when their chilled fingers rub against his tip that was exuding precum. "Ty, do I make you nervous?" He looks down at the ghost whose face was positioned right next to his dick.

"Very much so."

They just giggle. "Good." Y/n licks a stripe up against his shaft making him throw his head back. Their hand was fixed at the base of his dick while they gently kissed his tip. "I wanna know how you taste," He can feel himself being eveloped by their mouth. Tyler bites back the breathy moans that want to leave his lips. Their other hand gently grabs ahold of his balls making him almost audibly moan.

It was getting hard for him to hold back. Especially when he felt his dick start to reach into their throat. "Fuck..." He bites his tongue to no avail. Y/n let’s him go and smiles at his mewling beneath them.

“Shhh. We gotta be quiet. Besides, we haven’t even got to the best part.” His eyes widened when they pushed him back onto his mattress. “Plus, I wouldn’t be the one getting caught with my dick out.” They giggle before dropping their bottoms and sliding their legs out of their underwear.

Climbing up on the bed y/n was basically straddling Tyler. They slip two finger into their mouth before rubbing them around and into their opening. “You ready?” They could see just how eager he was. It was funny, Tyler was acting like a freshman that hadn’t even got their dick touched.

Y/n moves slow when they line themselves up, their heart almost beating in sync with his. Tyler grabs at his sheets when he feels his dick start to enter them. Curses string from his mouth while he tries to keep quiet. When he feels himself bottom out. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So I’ve been told.” Y/n begins to rock their hips steadily, while Tyler is desperate to pick up the pace. He bucks upwards when he feels their walls clench around him. They had his dick in a vice grip and he couldn’t he happier.

Y/n lays flat on Tyler’s chest burying their head into the crook of his neck. Their breath fans his face while they continue to move sensually. It was almost like something snapped in Tyler, y/n had expected it, but not this soon.

He can feel his resolve slipping when he grabs onto y/n’s hips. A quick yelp leaves them at the sudden touch. Tyler starts to rock their hips more, each thrust of his concerningly hardening cock sending their mind into overdrive. “Fuck Tyler, don’t stop. Please.” They grabbed onto his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.

Y/n was seeing stars with the way Tyler was thrusting. Both of their bodies were on fire and the upcoming highs. And they can’t help but gasp feeling the growing claws start to scrape across their semi-translucent skin. They had never felt more alive. Well, they did before they died but yeah.

Tyler doesn’t quit, he keeps on bucking his hips and bringing their hips down to match his unrelenting pace. Desperate to reach his peak and bring them with him. Y/n wanted to scream at the pleasure that was building. Like a damn about to bust, they bite down on their lip trying to contain their excitement. “Tyler I’m gonna cum, please faster, faster.”

Like a good little Hyde his pace seemed almost superhuman now. Tyler fought back his near transformation when the tension in his body snapped. He slammed their hips down again causing the euphoria to take over like a tsunami.

Y/n covers their mouth while they cum around his throbbing dick. They squeeze him for all he’s worth before y/n completely goes limp in his arms. “Fuck,” They mumble almost incoherently at the orgasm. Tyler pants when he pulls out, cum spilling from their aching hole. They shiver at the loss.

Tyler rolls over and lays y/n down gently, any hint of his previous self washed away with his euphoric state. “Shit, I should’ve been more gentle. Just lay down. I’ll take care of you.” Y/n yawns softly before nodding. Curling into his warmth while he took care of the rest.

The most warmth they’d felt in a while, and it was about to be the best sleep in a while as well. Their post nut haze can’t even get them to here the words that leave his mouth next. “I think I love you.”

#deathmetalangel #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x you #wednesday #wednesday tyler #wednesday smut #wednesday imagine

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magnusbae · 10 months

Note

tfw u have a Complicated™️ Relationship With An Otherworldly Creature

First of all, I would like to point out that I DID NOT REALIZE WE HAD THAT DISCUSSION ON APRIL FOOL'S DAY.

All I remember is being delirious from lack of sleep and you indulging me by listening to my ravings about a Venom AU for dreamling aND THEN MAKING AN ACTUAL MEME FOR IT!!!

While I don't remember much of what we said that morning, and this meme being perfect for Canon AU also, I will focus my efforts on elaborating on this Venom AU no one had asked for but everybody will be getting!

◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

"It's not human, but it's given me things no girlfriend ever could."

Hob Gadling is by no means a man who lacks options. He had fucked, and he had fucked a lot. He dated, he had even married once. He did all there is to be done, from casual to serious and yet... nothing comes close to this, to this bond he shares, to this otherworldly creature living within him, sustaining him, enveloping him, devouring him.

"Beloved," Hob says, feeling the instantaneous warming of his chest. Dream, (That is his name.) (Oh, what a lovely name it is.) often responds in such a manner to terms of endearment. He enjoys them more than he would ever care to admit. All the more incentive for Hob to use them as frequently as humanly possible. Which is to say, a lot.

The low frequency rumbling inside of his chest cavity lets him know that Dream is very much aware and chooses to remain silent on the matter. He is so sweet, actually the sweetest creature in the entirety of existence. It's hard to remember a time when he had thought otherwise, a time in which he was actually terrified of the creature that had decided to use his body as a free-ride.

Yes? Dream finally speaks, tired of waiting for Hob to verbalize his thoughts. His voice is a deep thunder inside of Hob's mind, closer to a loud thought than an actual audible sound. An intrusive thought he would never wish to get rid of. Hob. Strict, impatient, amused. He feels like Dream cannot decide if he's more irritated or amused by Hob's wandering thoughts. Speak.

Hob huffs out a laughter, shaking his head and opening his fist in an invitation. The empty spaces between his fingers are soon filled with claw-like ink black fingers. Dream's hand, firm and strong.

"I was just thinking," Hob closes his hand, squeezing Dream's hand in his, feeling the tightening of Dream's hand in turn. "how it's our anniversary tonight" he closes his eyes, thinking of a year ago, miserable and lost and terrified, with nothing in this world left, running into an alien that by all means was supposed to devour him long ago.

Expect for the miraculous part of them being so perfectly matched that Dream decided to preserve him instead. Tend his body, strengthen it, keep it safe. The only price being that he also gets to live in it. See humanity, learn of it, understand it. It's what he told him, however Hob suspects, knows really, that it was something far more personal.

Dream had filled spaces Hob didn't even know he had. Voids so small you don't know them but you ache them. And if Hob does even a fraction of what Dream does to him— well then, there's the reason.

Yes. Dream rambles, pleased. Anniversary, like marriage. the last word is purred so quietly it's almost like it's Hob's own thought.

"Hold your horses," Hob laughs again, cheeks warming up, he's smiling wide enough to ache "I expect to get properly proposed to, who do you think I am? I ain't cheap, you know" he feels a hand brushing his hip bone, an intimate, possessive gesture that sets a shiver down his groin.

Yes, of course. Dream's finger trace's down the 'V' lines, claw gentle but ever present. Not cheap. Proposal. Indeed. Dream is amused again, the cheeky creature is making fun of him, and that, is damn hot.

Whatever response Hob was about to give is swallowed down with a yelp when Dream takes him into his hand. Hob breathes out, mind blanking as the decidedly inhuman hand starts working on him.

Conversations about propriety can wait. After all, this is so much more interesting. Whatever else you can say about dating a formless alien who resides inside of your body, there's undeniable benefits to them literally sharing your own pleasure. Makes for a very good partner indeed.

◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

Written in one go without editing because if I allow myself even a single more hour of thinking how it needs to be PERFECT I will die LMAO.

Brief explanation of Venom for those who didn't watch it! >> under the cut.

Generally speaking, I would imagine that Dream's initial reason was to study, understand, experience a different existence than his own. He had no regard for human life (still doesn't, not in the way a human would) he was perfectly fine with riding human bodies and living their lives until they expired.

Expect Dream had found Hob, a perfect match, a human body that accepted every single cell of him with open arms, way before Hob even realized he loved Dream, his body had already accepted him.

This can have over-complicated plot, and it could be a simply fun-little au. It can have a "fish-bowl" rescue of reported Hob breaking into the Lab where Dream was being experimented on, and it could be Hob's homeless era when on top of everything else going wrong with his life, he also gotten jumped by an alien symbiote in an alley.

It can be anything you wish to imagine, but bottom line is— imagine the intimacy, the bond, the tenderness of sharing a body with a creature that envelopes you whole, who loves you whole, who cares and wants you whole. Body and Soul and Mind, literally, figuratively, everything.

A bond so close you feel like a single being, bond so close you feel you would die if separated. Hob didn't even know he needed it. Hob thought his life was complete, even if shitty at times, he didn't feel any lackings, and yet..... when Dream came into his life, he realized it was an empty shell compared to what it is.

And Dream, who had never felt a connection, only felt rejection after rejection, and then in the case of the lab-trab, the experiments and cruelty. Being loved and accepted and wanted so fully he betrays his entire species to be with Hob.

-----

Essentially, Venom is one specimen of a symbiotic life form that finds a host and bonds with it. It's not easy to find a proper host, if the host is not right, the symbiote would slowly devour the body and eventually kill the human. In the comics canon, a human named Eddie and Venom form a bond, eventually fall in love, and share a very intimate relationship. It's a VERY half-assed explanation, but basically, the symbiote literally lives inside of the human host, and it makes for some......fun dynamics. considering it's a literal alien.

#I will NOT be rereading it so unless I made some horrid mistake it IS WHAT IT IS #it's been in my inbox longer than it should have gavregbaet but i couldn't just 'post it' with a LOL and that's it! I haD TO ELABORARE.#thanks for the MEME it's pefECT !!!#dreamling #the sandman #dreamling venom au #I GUESs?#buns.w #buns.all #cuubism #msg

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sparrowofthedawnsworld · 1 year

Text

Disruptive Thoughts - Danny Wagner

A/N: I don’t really know what this is lmao. I mean… I guess i’m kinda projecting, because this is one of my personal struggles, but I’m also just desperately trying to get out of writers block lol. I hope y’all enjoy! I love you all SO MUCH!

WARNINGS: 18+ content! Minors please DNI! Danny being sweet af, mild dirty talk, fingering, lots of praise.

Masterlist

••••

You couldn’t wrap your mind around why it had to be so difficult. All your friends raved on and on about how wonderful sex was for them… How well their partners could get them off… But not you.

Intrusive thought after intrusive thought, always managed to rip you away from the moment. No matter how grounded or focused you tried to stay, something always found a way to have your mind pulling in a million different directions.

It had become such a stressful thing for you, that even getting yourself to orgasm alone was becoming difficult. It was no longer just intrusive thoughts here and there, it was full on anxiety. You had almost completely convinced yourself that you couldn’t have an orgasm anymore.

“God, that sounds amazing.” You tried to sound genuine, listening to your best friend babble on about last night’s hookup with Jake Kiszka - One of three, of your roommate Danny’s best friends.

“You sound incredibly underwhelmed right now, Y/N.” She pointed, stopping her whole story. “What’s wrong?”

You looked around to be sure Danny wasn’t anywhere to be seen, before you began to speak again.

“I don’t know it’s just… I don’t know. I think i’m fucking broken or something,” you sighed, feeling your chest tighten. “I can’t even get off with a partner. Hell, I can hardly even get off on my own at this point!”

“You should ask Danny for help,” she suggested, complete seriousness in her tone.

“Are you insane?? I’m not asking Danny for help with that!” You were definitely talking much too loud for the thin walls of your apartment and karma was quick to remind you of that.

“Help you with what!?” Danny whisper-yelled with a goofy grin, pretending to sneak his way through the living room to the kitchen.

His sudden presence had you practically jumping up to the ceiling, your face burning and going a deep crimson.

Luckily for you, Danny just laughed it off and continued on into the kitchen.

“Was that Danny?” She cackled through the phone. “What a coincidence!”

“Oh, shut up.” You huffed, glancing up towards the kitchen door to ensure that Danny wasn’t eavesdropping.

He would never, but your mind loved to try and convince your otherwise.

“I’m gonna go… And hope that Danny didn’t hear anything major.”

“I hope he did,” she giggled. “Bye, then, babe! I love you,”

Your eyes rolled rather dramatically. “Mhm, I love you, too..”

You heard her laugh once more at your halfhearted, almost sarcastic, tone before she hung up.

Staring straight at the wall with a blank expression, your mind drifted off and continued to think about all your sexual struggles.

Also, mulling over what your best friend had suggested. You had no intentions of asking Danny; your pride having too much of a death grip on you.

However, if you ever did suck it up and decide to ask for help… Danny didn’t seem like a bad choice. At all.

The sound of the kitchen door swinging open broke you out of your trance.

“You’re awfully jumpy,” Danny chuckled, eyes dancing with amusement and curiosity. “What don’t you want to ask me for help with?”

“Well, if I haven’t asked you, then obviously I don’t want you to know…” You played with your fingers, barely even holding his stare for a second.

“You’re fidgeting and playing with your rings,” Danny pointed at your hands, taking notice of your little tick.

Damn him for being so attentive.

“That means whatever it is, is stressing you out.”

You immediately grew defensive. “It’s not stressing me out. Really, it’s just-“

“Y/N… Don’t lie to me,” Danny raised his eyebrows at you, giving you a look that clearly told you he wasn’t buying anything you were saying. “You always tell me everything.”

“I feel like this isn’t one of those things I can tell you…” You admitted, looking up at him weakly.

He sighed, walking over to the couch and sitting down right beside you.

“You know good and well I don’t give a shit what it is. I will help you with absolutely anything and everything.” Danny tried reassure you, not even realizing what he was getting possibly into.

“I wouldn’t say anythi-“

“Yes, Y/N.” He quickly cut you off. “Anything.”

You huffed, coming to terms with the fact that he was not going to let this go. Or be anywhere close to satisfied, unless you told him what was really bothering you. He cared too much for you to let you suffer alone.

“Okay, uhm…” you trailed off into silence, mind racing to find proper phrasing and words for what you were about to say. “When i… Every guy i’ve ever been with, hasn’t ever gotten me off. It’s not always been their fault, I just sort of get in my head…? And now it’s at a point where I just get so anxious, because I can’t stay focused and I have convinced myself that I can’t even get off anymore. I can’t even get myself off hardly…”

You finished rambling, barely even taking breaths to refill your lungs in between sentences and mumbled words.

Chancing a quick glance up at Danny, your face twisted in confusion at how unfazed he appeared to be.

“Sooo, what I’m hearing is… You have trouble staying focused, or staying in the moment…?” Danny clarified cooly.

You nodded once. “Yeah.”

“And you want me to help you?” Danny’s lips curved upwards at one end as he watched your face contort in horror.

“No, no, no! I- you don’t…” you stumbled over your words. Flustered was truly an understatement. “I’m just- I’m just telling you what was wrong, you don’t have to actually… help me.”

“Whoever was on the phone with you, seemed to think I would be pretty helpful.” Danny countered confidently.

You couldn’t tell if he was teasing, or being completely serious. It was probably both, if you were being completely honest with yourself.

“Danny, you can’t… I can’t ask you to do that.” You shook your head, hoping he would just let it go.

“But you’re not asking. I’m offering,” Danny pointed out smugly. There was clearly going to be no ‘letting it go.’

“But of course, it’s up to you,” Danny held up his hands, surrendering and leaving the decision completely up to you. “If you really don’t want to, I will just pretend this whole conversation never happened.”

Now that you were really thinking about it, even though part of you feared it may do something to your friendship - It didn’t sound nearly as horrific as you initially thought.

Danny sat quietly, patiently awaiting you to give him some sort of answer.

All the smugness and mischief was completely gone, being replaced with a serious and attentive expression.

“Will it… will it make things weird or like, change anything if I say yes?” You were barely able to get your voice up to a normal speaking level.

“It doesn’t have to,” Danny shook his head, gently reaching for one of your fidgeting hands. “We’re not kids, Y/N. And personally, I can’t say i’ve never given being with you a thought. I definitely have a time or two.”

Danny’s admission surprisingly put some ease to your raging thoughts, clearing up some of the grey areas you were struggling to see past.

You wanted this… You wanted him. You were sure of that.

But, having not much else to worry about, brought you right back to your original problem.

“What if can’t…” you trailed off and within seconds, you felt Danny squeeze you hand softly as he caught on to what you were trying to say.

“Look at me,” He demanded, gently but firmly. A skill not many people possessed quite the way he did.

You met his eyes shyly and he gave you a small, comforting, smile before continuing.

“Let’s not necessarily make having an orgasm the main goal, okay? If you stress on that, it won’t happen. Or at least… it will make it a lot harder.” Danny explained. “Let’s put the focus elsewhere… But first, I need you to tell me that this is what you want.”

“This is definitely what I want. I trust you,” You were honestly a bit surprised at how sure and confident you sounded.

Danny tightened his grip on your hand ever so slightly and tugged you into his lap carefully.

“I just want you to focus on feeling first, okay?” Danny searched your eyes for any remaining hesitation.

You nodded your understanding, willing him to continue.

Danny let go of your hand, trailing it up your arm slowly. You tilted your head down to watch as it traveled higher and higher.

“There’s so much more pleasure to sex than just an orgasm. That alone should never be the only pleasure you get out of it…” He watched his own hand trail over your shoulder, eyes shifting to your face as his hand reached your neck.

Danny lightly traced his fingertips over the side of your neck, making you shiver.

“See? You feel that. Don’t think about anything but what my hand is doing and how it feels.” Danny spoke lowly. His gentle command had your stomach twisting with desire.

Trailing a calloused fingertip along your jaw, his thumb curled up to catch your bottom lip. He toyed with it for a moment, a breathy sigh shaking out of you and he smirked.

“Kiss me,” you breathed, an overwhelming rush of eagerness and need surging through you as you stared down at his pink lips. “Please, Danny.”

“Shhh, there’s no rush, dove.” Danny tried bring you down a step or two.

You were about to protest, but he spoke up again before you could even find the words.

“But since you asked so nicely…”

Danny leaned up, closing the remaining space left between the two of you. His lips felt like pillows against yours; so gentle and careful, so guiding.

You melted into the kiss right away, finding the confidence to bring your arms up and around his neck to tug him closer.

One of his hands found its way into your hair, the other staying on the side of your neck. Every so often his thumb would caress just by your ear, or his other would tug gently at your hair.

Your own hands stayed occupied around Danny’s neck, one holding the collar of his shirt, the other playing with the curls that had fallen out of his bun.

Danny broke away to catch his breath, his eyes significantly darker than before.

Your stomach flipped as a small smile formed over his mouth. He nudged your face to the side with his nose, placing gentle kisses to your jaw and mumbling against your skin.

“My room or yours?”

You thought it over for a second, brain half distracted by the attention Danny’s lips were giving you.

After a moment or two, you muttered a quick “Yours.”

With that, Danny hauled you up in his arms as he stood to his feet and carried you down the hallway.

“You’re so gorgeous, have I ever told you that?” Danny smiled at you warmly, his voice even lower than just moments ago. He kicked the door of his bedroom open haphazardly.

You giggled and blushed profusely, tempted to hide your face away in the crook of his neck. “Mmm, no. Not that I can recall, you haven’t.”

He huffed lightly, trying to kick the door closed with one leg, only sending you further into giddy, nervous-sounding giggles.

“Well… you’re gorgeous. So, so gorgeous.” Danny whispered, finally making his way over to the bed. “And I’ve always thought so.”

He bent down, placing you onto his bed as though you were a fragile, priceless, piece of art. No one had ever been so careful with you.

“Now. Where were we…?” Danny mumbled more to himself, climbing over top of you. “Oh, right.”

Danny reconnected his lips with yours, kissing you with a little more urgency than before.

Your hands came up to his face, holding each side of his jaw. One of his hands found your hip, caressing it while his other forearm held him up above you.

“God, if I had known kissing you would be this good, I would have done it a lot sooner.” Danny admitted through a low, breathy, laugh. “Like.. way sooner.”

The unwavering smile on your lips widened even more, that same eagerness and impatience from earlier settled back in, causing you to shift beneath him.

You were a little bit surprised at the effect that he was already having on you. “I need more, Danny,”

“You’ll get more, I promise. Just relax for me.” He dipped his head down, kissing just below your ear, repeating himself lowly. “Just relax.”

He began leaving wet, slow kisses along your neck, searching diligently for a sweet spot to lovingly abuse.

When a quiet whimper caught in your throat, you could feel him smile against your neck.

“Let’s use this spot, shall we?” Danny pulled away to meet your eyes.

Danny went right back to the spot he’d found on your neck, just to left of your throat, attacking it mercilessly.

You didn’t hold back the soft moan that worked its way up your throat, accompanied by a dull pulse forming between your legs.

Danny worked his way down your chest, until the edge of your tank top stopped him from getting any farther.

Instead of rushing to get the material off, he began kissing his way back up the other side of your neck.

You huffed rather impatiently, knowing good and well you sounded like a baby. “Danny, you’re being a tease,”

A genuine laugh bubbled out of Danny and he pulled away to look at you, an amused grin plastered over his face.

“I’m not teasing,” he protested through a low chuckle. “I’m just taking my time. Has no one ever taken their sweet time with you?”

His question had a teasing edge. He knew good and well what the answer was.

Danny returned his attention to your neck, finishing his track until he was kissing over your cheek, finally reconnecting his lips with yours.

This kiss was far more intense than the last. It made you wonder how long he would really be able to “take his time”.

He pulled away and sat back slowly, raking his eyes over your upper body, breathing ragged and shallow.

“Please, take this off,” you grabbed his hands and placed them on the hem of your shirt, feeing unbearably hot under his gaze.

“You’re so bossy,” he teased, but still complied without another word.

You sat up just enough for him to pull the thin material over your head. Once your tank top was gone, Danny pulled off his own and pushed you back down against the bed by your shoulder, marveling at your bare chest.

You picked the best fucking day not to wear a bra. You knew that for sure.

“Fuck, look at you…” Danny cupped each of your breasts in his hands, massaging them. “Fucking stunning. Perfect, even.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, closing your eyes at the feeling of Danny’s hands.

“That feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” Danny cooed, very much proud of himself. He was sure he would do absolutely anything to hear the sounds you make, over and over.

He took one of your nipples in between his thumb and pointer finger, pinching it rather harshly just as you were about to answer him.

“Oh, fuck-“ You gasped, back arching and shoving your tits further into his hands.

“You sound so fucking pretty,” Danny repeated the action with the other, earning almost the same reaction. “How are you feeling right now, baby?”

His little check in made your heart swell and truthfully, you had yet to have an intrusive thought that you couldn’t push away. They were still there, but following Danny’s instructions so far, was keeping you pretty much fully in the moment with him.

“I’m feeling so good..” You smiled up at him and he flashed his beautiful smile right back.

“I think we can go a little further, then. What do you think, Y/N?”

Danny leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

This boy and not waiting for you to answer before he was trying to coax another sweet moan out of you.

“Fu- fuck, will you let me answer you??” you questioned half playfully through another moan.

“Sorry, I just love all these pretty noises you’re making for me.” Danny grinned, abandoning your breasts and venturing down your stomach. “I bet i’m the only one who’s been able to get you sounding like this..”

You completely forgot what question you were even supposed to be answering, bucking up against his lips as his gentle kisses reached your lower belly and hips.

“So eager,” he nipped at the skin above your sweatpants, running his hands over the tops of your thighs.

“You want these off already, too?”

“Is that even a question?” you raised your brows at him, locking eyes as he peered up through his lashes.

Danny hooked his hands in the waistband of your sweatpants, using one finger to tap against your hip bone. You caught on to his signal, lifting your hips away from the sheets.

“Shit…” Danny’s eyes widened, fixed between your legs.

“What??” You asked a little too quickly, panic laced in your voice.

Your mind started to spin and your legs instinctively closed, closing Danny off from you.

He quickly realized what was happening and began trying to calm you and bring you back to him.

“Hey, hey,” Danny called for your attention softly. “Nothing is wrong at all, you’re so perfect… You’re just so wet already and I… fuck, I want to feel it.”

With an explanation behind his reaction, it made a lot more sense and now you felt horrible for freaking out.

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to bring your mind back to where it was supposed to be.

“Can you look at me, gorgeous?” Danny found one of your hands, intertwining it with his.

You looked up to meet his eyes and instantly, you wanted to melt right into his bed. His eyes were so warm and soft, despite them being tinted with lust. He was looking at you with all the desire and patience in the world.

“There’s those pretty eyes,” Danny smiled down at you, causing you to blush once again.

His other hand touched the inside of your knee, dragging up your inner thigh until he reached where you were dripping for him. He traced teasingly over the wet spot that had formed on your panties. “Feel that? Right here?”

“Danny,” his name tumbled off your lips in a whiny, breathy way, that almost didn’t even sound like you.

“So eager you soaked them through,” Danny teased before becoming serious again. “Here’s what I want you to do now, okay? I want you focus on not only what you feel, but close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

“Got it,” your reply was barely above a whisper. “Listen and feel. I can do that.”

“Yes, you can,” Danny affirmed, giving you one last questioning look as he hooked his thumbs into your panties.

You nodded, tugging your lip between your teeth, watching him waste no time pulling them down your legs as soon as your hips were off the mattress.

He slid them all the way down your legs, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor somewhere.

Danny eyed you for a moment, seemingly thinking something over in his mind. Your heart rate quickened, but you fought with yourself not to let your mind drift to anything irrational.

“Let’s try this-“ Danny started, moving to lay on his side next to you. He slid one of his arms under your back, cradling you close to his body; his other hand pushing your legs apart gently. “-Just gonna start slow…”

Danny’s fingers traced down your belly agonizingly slow, barely grazing your skin.

When he finally reached your heat, your breath hitched in your throat and your legs instinctively opened up wider. The anticipation he was creating was almost unbearable.

“Danny, please,” you whimpered, raising your hips up to try and find even the littlest bit of friction.

“I’m gonna take good care of you, I swear, sweetheart.”

Finally, Danny slipped a single finger through your folds, gathering some of the wetness from your entrance and bringing it up to your clit.

“Oh,” your mouth dropped open, forming the smallest little ‘o’. “Oh, fuck, Danny-“

His middle finger circled around your bud of nerves with just enough pressure.

Little whines and whimpers began to flow steadily out of you as your breathing increased.

“Yeah? That feel good, sweet girl?” Danny kept his eyes locked on you, taking in and monitoring your every sound and other physical reactions. “Your little clit just needs some sweet, steady attention, doesn’t she?”

Danny’s voice filled your ears, so raspy and gravely with lust - you didn’t ever want to stop hearing it that way.

“That feels- it feels so good,” you gasped a couple times, feeling Danny’s finger swirl over one of the sweet spots surrounding your clit.

A spot that no one else had touched, or even bothered to search for.

Danny readjusted his hand, swapping out his middle finger for his thumb, so that he could carefully push two fingers inside you.

Another moan that you were convinced didn’t even come from your own lungs, tumbled out of you rather loudly. A sweet, yet taunting echo bouncing around the four walls of his room.

“Listen to yourself… You sound so lovely,” Danny cooed, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Believe it or not, letting out all these gorgeous noises will just help you get closer.”

He pulled in a deep breath, basking in the warm, fruity scent that you always seemed to carry.

You pushed your hips up, desperately trying to shove his fingers just a little deeper - hoping that they would nudge into that sweet spot you could feel them so close to.

After a couple tries, you began to grow a little frustrated. You were frantically searching for an orgasm that simply just wasn’t quite there yet.

Now, your brain was drifting back on a reckless path to destroy any chances of reaching one entirely.

Parts of your body started to grow tired, other parts growing stiff and tense.

Your breathing became uneven and much too labored, but you were bound and determined to chase after and catch that sweet release.

A frustrated huff of a whimper passed through your parted lips, immediately letting Danny know that you were drifting off with destructive thoughts.

“Slow down, baby, just slow down.” Danny ordered gently, soft and sweet into your ear. “You’re getting worked up on me. What’s going on in that pretty head? Try to tell me, Y/N.”

You fought through the plethora of thoughts that were cluttered up in your mind, trying to find some way to form an understandable sentence for Danny.

“Need it so- so bad, Danny… I- i need it-“ Despite how vague it seemed to you, Danny didn’t need any further elaboration. “But i can’t-“

“Stop chasing it, baby girl… Just let it come to you.” Danny said lowly into your ear.

“Let it come to you…” he reiterated.

“I can’t- I… I don’t think,” You felt yourself getting worked up with more frustration and hot tears filled the corners of your eyes, but Danny was quick to soothe you.

His fingers slowed and his thumb retreated from your clit, only keeping the slow, rhythmic, pace with his fingers.

“You’re okay. It’s okay. I promise you, you can,” He readjusted his arm that was underneath your back, pulling you as close as he could get you. “Oh, baby… You’re so tense. Relax for me, angel…”

He waited a few moments, watching you struggle to gain some control over your mind and body.

“Mmm… Yeah, let’s work together,” Danny finally spoke, gathering that the best thing would be to guide you a little. “I’m holding you, I’ve got you… Take a deep breath with me and just let those muscles go.”

You kept your eyes closed, listening intently to his voice and what he was telling you to do. You heard him start to take in a deep breath and you shakily attempted to copy him.

“Yeah, just like that… That’s perfect.” Danny praised, feeling your upper body loosen and relax against his arm.

You could feel your muscles relaxing from your shoulders, all the way down to your belly.

Pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, Danny let out a pleased hum against it. “There you go. Now, let’s get your mind back here to me…”

You nodded, the cloudiness in your head clearing up just slightly.

“Okay. We know you’re not broken, because you’re perfectly wet for me… That’s a very good thing,” Danny couldn’t fight off the smirk that threatened his lips. “And you can feel everything, right? Can you feel this?”

Danny slowly pushed his fingers inside you as deep as they would go, curling up into that sweet spot you were trying to force them into before.

A strangled, broken, moan erupted from your lungs. What seemed like such a simple movement, had your body heating up again and a faint burn forming low in your stomach.

Danny didn’t even need you to answer with words. “Yeah, I think you felt that.” he smirked happily.

“What about this?” He added his thumb back to your clit, drawing tighter, deeper, circles into it than he had been doing previously.

A similar reaction was the result and all that you could think about now, was that knot forming in the pit of your stomach.

Except this time, you weren’t wondering where it was, or if it would ever come; you were shocked that there was an orgasm just on your horizon. Within arms reach, it felt like.

“Fuck…” You wrapped your hand around Danny’s wrist; half scared to let yourself fall into the intensity that you knew this orgasm would be, after not having one for so long. The other half of you equally afraid of losing it all together.

“Take a deep breath, let all the pleasure get through to your whole body… You’re doing so well,” Danny whispered, full of pride.

Your head lulled to the side, sending your near constant moans directly into Danny’s neck. You could feel yourself uncontrollably contracting around his fingers.

“Fuck yes, baby. You’re almost there… Almost there. You’re starting to squeeze my fingers so tight.”

Danny let out a soft groan of his own.

“Can you cum for me? I wanna see you cum so beautifully for me. Right here.”

The feeling in the pit of your stomach was familiar, but had been long missed. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt that tight little coil of pleasure.

And Danny was skillfully and methodically making it tighter and tighter.

“Danny i-“ You attempted to force something out, literally anything. But there was absolutely nothing left in your brain, besides Danny. His fingers, his voice, his scent. All of him. Just him.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let go for me, give it all up.” Danny coaxed, voice smooth as silk, aggressively shoving you towards the edge.

It felt like you were moving in slow motion towards your high and for a split second, you feared Danny would grow suddenly impatient and stop.

“Danny… Danny, don’t s-stop,” you begged him desperately. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”

“Not gonna stop, Y/N. Not gonna stop. You’re so close, baby girl,” Danny quickened the circles his thumb was making, adding just a little more pressure to your clit.

He watched you intently with hooded eyes. “C’mon, pretty. C’mon…”

With a couple more curls of his fingers and swirls of his thumb, an animalistic moan tore its way out of your lungs.

The knot of pleasure in your stomach exploded, spreading so rapidly throughout your body, your head started to spin.

“Shit, Danny… Danny, ohmygod-“

Your whole body shifted and contorted against the bed.

One of your hands stayed clasped around Danny’s wrist, your other arm flinging over to grab onto his shoulder for some sort of grounding stability.

Something to keep you from floating away from Earth.

“There it is,” Danny smiled, watching you come undone around his fingers, mesmerized by the way your body reacted and the sounds of pleasure you were releasing. “Good girl… ride it all out, sweetheart. I’m still right here.”

Danny’s fingers worked you through the last few seconds of your high, gradually slowing down as he watched your hips settle back down against the bed.

“So fucking beautiful.” Danny whispered, placing a kiss to your temple.

You felt like you were floating through a different world. A world where all that was known was that sweet, post orgasm buzz and haze.

You wanted to stay there forever. And you wanted Danny right there with you.

“Danny…?” You voice just barely squeaked and he hummed in response. “I want to... can we…”

You knew what you were trying to say, but the lack of energy in your body was definitely making it difficult to get the words out.

Thankfully, Danny already knew what you meant.

“How about in a little while, hm?” Danny asked softly, cuddling your closer. “I think you should take a little break before we try for a second.”

You didn’t stop the sigh of distaste that rippled out of you at the idea of having to wait.

“I’d rather not take your soul so soon,” Danny chuckled, sound rather cocky.

“Maybe… maybe I want you to take it,” You grinned lazily, cracking one eye open to see his face.

Danny’s eyes were closed and he was sporting the most cocky smirk you had ever seen adorn his stunning face.

“If I try to take it, you’re going to be crying and tearing these sheets apart.” He rubbed his hand along your back slowly. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna blow your pretty mind one orgasm at a time… Until I’m good and ready to take your soul and make you cry.”

A shuddering whimper fluttered out of you involuntarily, only boosting him more.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you?” Danny hummed triumphantly.

“Wagner, how do I knock you down a peg?” You jested, flicking his cheek with your finger.

“Oh, you can’t now.” He answered, matter-of-factly. “I just made the most gorgeous girl I know cum, after she couldn’t for… God knows how long. There’s no “knocking me down a peg.””

TAGLIST:

@ageofbarbarians @theweightofjake @jake-kiszkas-smirk @shutupdevvie @jordierama @positivegvfthings @doodle417 @gardensgatedaisy @gretasmokerising @asparrowofthedawn @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @greta-van-chaos @skankforjakekiszka @sarakay-gvf

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starstruckserenity · 9 months

Note

you're so sweet😭 so what i was thinking was a scenario where kokichi is being his usual self but he goes too far and s/o is just finally done with it. how would he react to reader leaving him for good?

ooooh~ how angsty!! now, i have never written angst without any comfort. but it does seem like such an interesting concept, so i gave it my best shot!! just a heads up, kokichi does get a little mean in this, so just a fair warning for those who might need it! thank you SO much for requesting!! i hope you have a great day!! 💞 *internal fanboying*

The day should have started out as any normal day would. You would have woken up, spruced yourself up a bit until you felt you looked --- at the very least --- decent, and waited by the door for Kokichi to bust his way through it. It was a routine, at this point, so you paid no mind to his intrusions.

But today, he hadn't even graced you with the chance to get dressed properly. It was about 5 or so in the morning, and you hadn't slept a wink due to your... situation. How could anyone be able to sleep through a literal killing game, for fucks sake? You groaned and struggled to get out of bed. Your feet dragged behind you as you wobbled your way to the bathroom sink, clutching it with both hands to support yourself.

"Hey, heyyyyy! Hellooooo!?" He yelled out as he made his way through your dorm and into the bathroom, where you had been brushing your teeth. You spat out the remnants of your toothpaste and swiveled your body around to face him. He watched as you did so, taking note of how wild your hair looked from the tossing and turning you did all night.

"Jeez, you look like shit! What, did you not get enough beauty sleep? It sure as hell looks like it." He cackled out loud, putting a finger to his lips in amusement as he watched you frown. "You look horrible. It's hilarious."

Oh. So it was one of those days.

One of the days where Kokichi would torment you for his entertainment, ratting you out for his own enjoyment. And, as of recent, these days would come along more often than not. Because of this, you couldn't lie and say that you didn't dread waking up and seeing his perfect-ly punchable face, while also collectively being bombarded with insults left and right.

It could be your the way your hair looked, the way you dressed, the way you spoke, the way you walked... Kokichi would poke fun at you for it. It seemed like Kokichi thought you were disgusting, and he was never afraid to point out that fact.

And as you walked out of your dorm room with him, he babbled on and on about nonsense. You were simply too tired to entertain his words or even listen to him. All you had in mind was making it to the dining hall so you could meet up with the others.

"Hey, asshole, are you even listening to me? I was, like, saying something suuuper important just now!" He forcefully snapped you out of your trance, waving a hand in front of your eyes. "You never listen... You're so fuckin' stupid..." You could hear him mutter under his breath as he crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.

"Weeeeell, as I was saaayinggg!" He uncrossed his arms and put them behind his head as he walked. This was your cue to space out again as you pushed the dining hall doors open. Your glazed eyes trailed over the tables and people, and you spotted Shuichi reading a book, hunched over in his seat. You felt your heart skip a beat, as you actually had the possibility of having a genuine conversation. Shuichi had been someone you could trust, someone you could lean on ever since this whole... thing... had occurred. He was a friend to you. He was gentle, polite, kind-hearted...

...The exact opposite of Kokichi. And as he went away to feed himself, you jumped at the opportunity to speak to Shuichi.

As you walked over to him, he smiled curtly and gave you a little wave. "Hey, Y/n. How are you?" You grinned as he asked. You felt almost giddy that someone finally wanted to know how you were doing. You sat down in the seat closest to him, scooting forward.

"Well... I'm not doing the best right now. But I don't think any of us are..." You laid your hands down on the table.

Shuichi's smile turned a bit sour. "Ah, yeah... that's completely understandable. Do you need to talk, or anything? Um, I know it's not much, but I'm here for you..." He mumbled softly as he touched your back, attempting to reassure you.

The safety you had felt quickly cancelled out as you felt Kokichi storm behind you, quickly turning your chair around to face him with a more-than-unpleasant expression.

"...What the hell do you think you're doing? I thought you were going to follow me." Kokichi narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth as he practically spat out his words. "And why are you talking to him, of all people?" He cocked his head around slowly to glare at a frightened and confused Shuichi, who awkwardly adverted his gaze from the two of you. Kokichi looked almost disheveled as he leaned in front of you.

"Saihara. This bitch is mine." He trailed a finger slowly from your cheek to your neck. Your mind turned hazy. "No one could ever want them, apart from me." He cracked a grin. You felt your heart breaking down. "You're stuck with me. Nobody could ever treat you as well as I do."

...What? What?

You erupted up from your seat and grabbed him by the scarf. Your mind was racing and it felt like you were on fire. Your body was hot. You were so, so fucking pissed and so, SO fucking done.

"You think you're treating me "well"?! You can't be serious. I've never felt so HATED by someone in my life! I don't even know why I EVER thought it would be a good idea to love you. I...I don't know why I even wasted my time, attempting to reason with you! You're hopeless, so goddamn hopeless!" Your grip on him tightened as you shook with rage. Your eyes were blown wide as tears dripped down your cheeks and your knees felt heavy as you pressed yourself against him. It would have been a romantic gesture if you were dealing with someone, anyone else.

"And you know what? I'm done." Your voice broke released him and watched him fall to the cold ground. His expression was absolutely unreadable. You looked at Shuichi one last time, who was frozen in shock, as you stepped away from the scene. Ouma lifted his head and stared ahead as you raced out of the door.

He just let you. He watched you move away from him, he let you break apart. His heart throbbed in his chest as his nails scraped against the floor. He knew in the back of his mind he was hopeless, and he got lost in the rush of faking the words he said to you. He knew this was all his fault. It was, in the only way he could describe it, inevitable.

As Shuichi chased after you, Kokichi stayed down. And he wouldn't get back up on his feet for a long, long time.

#danganronpa x reader #kokichi x reader

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rataticaisdreaming · 6 months

Text

day 2 - fusion @intrualityweek

Summary: When Remus and Patton can’t stop fighting, the mind decides to give them a chance to be in each other's shoes.

Pairing: Platonic Intruality (he/him for both)

Word Count: 1397

Warnings: Verbal fights / Hurt/Comfort / Intrusive thoughts / Remus being Remus / Cursing / Mention of sex

“Those are awful things, Remus! You should think of more cheerful… innocent stuff!"

"Oh yeah, because everyone wants to live in Care-A-Lot, daddy-o."

It has been like this for weeks now. Patton getting more and more distressed at Remus’ outbursts, which have been more common ever since the last major issue Thomas faced. Their fights seemed personal and within their own bubble, seeing as they were right next to each other. Janus and Roman had no problem ignoring them, it was so childish and unnecessary that not even Virgil was affected by this. It was getting annoying though. Once everyone left those two to bicker alone, Patton frowned and sank down to his room. The duke was so unsettling! It wasn't so difficult to keep your thoughts to yourself and keep things nice and decent.

Throwing himself to the stuffie filled couch, he reached for an old blanket and his Tender Heart teddy bear. A wave of sadness filled him, tears silently fell from his cheeks into the blanket he was holding so close. Everything felt like too much.

He hated arguments so much. The loud voices and negative feelings made him feel so small and overwhelmed. The need to just get out, get out, get out. How he closed his eyes and just prayed the tears wouldn't come out, this is not the time for big emotions. He just wanted to hide and make the feelings go away.

━

Well, fuck him. There he goes again with his big mouth and inability to just shut the fuck up!

No one wants to hear you anyways.

He is trying! He really is! Just spit out the mild ones so his head guts will be at ease until he comes back to his room. That’s exactly what he did… then why was today so difficult?!

You were never meant to be one of them.

And why the fuck is his brain not shutting the fuck up?! He just wanted some rest for God's sake.

You should impale yourself with the bed's wooden poles.

Just get in a onesie, what if you get tangled up and suffocate?

Get in bed and under the blankets, you should have hate sex with the others.

Hug your emotional support octopus stuffie and feel them hug you back… oh, the ways they could crush you to death.

Just close your eyes… It will be okay in the morning.

Except it won't be. It will be this over, and over, and over again until you die. Alone and in pain and no one will care about you…

━

"We need Patton. It's clear to me this issue needs his emotional expertise."

A quick hand gesture is all Logan needed to make the moral side rise in his spot. Eyes shut tight and in clear distress, softly bouncing on his heels.

"Sorry kiddo, your old man just needed a little rest. Felt more tired than a hooker after an orgy."

What… in the world?

The room falls silent and everyone is suddenly looking at him. Roman and Virgil look at each other stunned, eyes so big they seem ready to pop out. Janus scoffs in disbelief, like he finally heard how much of a petty bitch he is. Logan adjusts his tie, looking down at the floor, maybe he’ll find his worth somewhere in the dust. Thomas looks like he just saw a puppy being shot in front of him.

Wow, this little mind of his is not slowing down, is it?

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't know why I said that… must be reaaally out of it! Maybe I just need some coffee and breakfast to get myself back on track." he said, awkwardly tiptoeing his way to the kitchen.

No one knew how to react to what just happened, so Roman spoke first.

“Maybe all that time with my brother is messing with him, speaking of him.” he said as he summoned Remus with an annoyed frown “Where is my copy of Princess and the Frog?”

Remus rose in his spot and stared at his twin like a deer in headlights, after a few seconds, he answered.

“I'm pretty sure I placed it back on the shelf.” he said, timidly hugging himself.

“Well, it's not there!”

The escalating tone made Remus flinch and look away, that seemed to be the wrong thing, because Roman spoke again.

“I swear in the holy name of Julie Andrews, Remus, if you did something to it…"

"I promise I didn't! I- I'm sure I placed it on the shelf, maybe I can help you find it! Just… Please lower your tone."

Roman was taken back by his response, his brother looked on the verge of tears. He has never seen the duke express himself like that. Weirded out was an understatement,

Before he could say anything, Patton came back and…

"Well, I can safely say the dishwasher liquid does not, in fact, taste like lemon and oranges."

Something was wrong.

━

"You will not leave this couch until you figure out what happened, do I make myself clear?"

It had been ten minutes since Logan left them there. Ten full minutes of distressed bouncing on his seat, eyes shut as he tried his hardest not to voice his thoughts. After what felt like an hour, Patton couldn’t take it anymore.

"Remus, all these thoughts… are they yours?" he said in a small voice Remus barely heard. "They are horrible…"

“I know they are!” he yelled, causing Patton to flinch. Upon seeing the reaction, the creative side broke down.

"I hate all of this! It all feels like too much!”

Patton’s knowing smile made him feel warm and troubled. A question popped into his head. He scooched over a little bit and started to fidget with his sparkly sleeves.

“Do you feel like this all the time?"

Patton looked up and sighed.

"Mhm"

"Do you get these thoughts all the time?"

Remus looked up with slightly red eyes.

"Yeah…"

"I never realized how much pain you were actually in… I thought you said those things to annoy us…" he started, receiving a soft laugh from the duke "But they are like a swarm! I need- I need them out!"

“Shh, it's okay. They will calm down, here, tug this string."

The moral side did with a tired hand, when he let go, a soft “quack” came out of nowhere. A tiny duck dropped from the air into his lap.

"Heh… And where did this little guy come from?"

“Little gift.”

A small giggle escaped from Patton’s lips and he changed his posture, visibly calmer and less tense. After working some courage, Remus decided to speak as well.

"I never knew you were feeling this much… It's suffocating. Every emotion feels fucking intense and it hurts! How do you live like this?"

"I just do… Comes with being the heart, I guess. My room helps me, it calms me down when it gets too much."

"Huh. Do you think I could… hang out there sometime?"

"Sure! Janus and Logan have been very insisting on the whole "finding a distraction" thing. We could do a puzzle together or watch a show."

"Yeah… I'd like that."

━

It has been like this for weeks now. Remus learning to use his inner voice, mindful of how loud noises impact the other’s emotions. Patton started to listen to Remus' ideas and ignored the ones that were plainly intrusive thoughts.

By the end of an afternoon discussion, they were already looking at each other in anticipation.

They sank down and arrived at Patton's living room. There was an unfinished puzzle on the coffee table as well as board game boxes laying on the side of it. Remus picked the neon green notebook and glitter pen and sat down next to the moral side.

They summoned popcorn, sodas and m&ms. Even some lemon slices for Remus. Whenever he got unwanted thoughts, he would write them down. Patton would hug his teddy bear, as a silent sign that they needed to slow down for a bit, when the emotions got too intense.

It was working for them. They also made a mental note to never anger the mind again. It would be fantastic to see Roman get all of Virgil's anxiety, but Remus was a good brother and decided to write that thought down for now.

#rat's fic #rataticaisdreaming #nothing like a fic that was written at midnight 😌✨#will probably revisit this one 🤔#really want to explore this idea further #sanders sides #remus sanders #patton sanders #intruality #intrualityweek2023 #intrualityweek #intruality week #sanders sides fanfiction

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thegainingdesk · 2 years

Text

Little Comments

"You must be a large nowadays, right Andy?"

"What?"

"A large," Richard repeated. "For the house t-shirts. I'm ordering a load for the students, for sports day, I'll get you one at the same time. I think you were a medium last year, so you must be a large now, I'm guessing." When Andrew didn't respond, just blinking in Richard's general direction, he continued on. "Or an extra-large? I don't know if they run small or anything."

Andrew forced himself to speak. "No, large is usually fine, yeah."

"Great. You're Blue House, aren't you?" Richard asked.

Andrew nodded and turned back to his marking, hoping Richard didn't notice how red his face must have grown. He'd been wearing larges for a while now, after a broken ankle the previous summer had seen his weight creep up, and had in-fact even bought a couple of looser extra-larges on occasion, so he wasn't embarrassed or shocked by the comment.

No, what had sent Andrew into a spin was the "must". He must be a large now, so obvious it didn't even warrant a question. And the implication he looked like he might need an extra-large? He felt himself grow hard, and he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Andrew stumbled into the staff bathroom and reached into his trousers as he locked the door shut behind him. He'd been obsessed with fat men and weight gain since he'd first hit puberty, and had toyed with the idea of weight gain in the past, but nothing had ever come of it, as he stayed at roughly the same weight since he was 18. Until now, clearly.

With one hand, he fumbled with his shirt buttons, almost ripping some off in his urgency. He pulled the shirt apart to reveal his torso, and looked down at himself as he stroked his penis with one hand, working hard to stifle his moans. How had he not noticed before? His torso, covered in a carpet of ginger, swirling hair, practically undulated, with his stomach forming soft rolls when he sat, and his whole belly spilled out over his belt by around an inch. He must have been so focussed on recovering from his injury that he'd not stopped to notice the changes happening to his body.

With his free hand he stroked up and down his torso, feeling the softness at his waist, the slight love handles, the jiggling fat at his chest. How much had he put on? He must be a large now, he told himself. Maybe even an extra-large. He came, with huge hot spurts of cum erupting up his torso, and hitting his face, making a mess of his dense orange body hair and beard. He couldn't stop himself, and he let out a loud, low moan. It was one of the most intense and explosive orgasms he could remember.

"You okay Andy?" Richard shouted through the door. "We heard a noise."

Andrew sat shaking, covered in his own semen. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just stubbed my toe."

"Oh, okay then. Me and Lydia are heading off in a bit. You coming to the pub?" Richard shouted.

Can a man not recover from an orgasm in peace? Andrew thought. "Yeah, go on then," he shouted back.

"Alright, we'll wait for you in the office," Richard called through the door.

Andrew gathered himself somewhat, using some toilet paper to gingerly clean himself up. "No bloody decorum, that man," he grumbled to himself, as he carefully took a clean finger and moved one side of his shirt away from the mess. "Shouting through a bathroom door. Can't go to the loo without intrusion around here."

"Of course Andy will have another, look at him!"

Andrew's head snapped up. What did Richard mean by that? Look at him? Look at what exactly?

"Same again Andrew?" Dan, a youthful P.E. teacher with a tiny waist that defied belief, asked him. "My round I think."

"Oh, umm, yeah, I guess I will, cheers." Andrew looked at Richard with a confused face. "What did you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"'Of course he'll have one, look at him', what does that mean?" Andrew repeated for him.

"Well, we all know you like a drink don't we?" Richard said with a small, confused smile. "I'm not saying you drink too much or anything mate, don't worry. We all have a few on a Friday, don't we?"

"Yeah, no, I mean, why 'look at him' though?" Andrew pushed.

"Well, you look like a man who likes a beer these days, don't you?" Richard flashed a grin and turned back to chatting with some other teachers on his side of the table.

Andrew looked around to see if anyone else was confused by the comment, but found everyone carrying on with their conversations quite happily. Andrew looked down at his belly, only recently noticed, a little larger than just a few hours ago after a few pints, and quietly placed a hand on the soft curve. His dick once again stiffened and he had to take a couple of deep breaths to calm it down. Not only did Andrew not think he had another load in him after that particularly productive session earlier on, but he didn't want to spend the night running back and forth to the toilet every time someone made the tiniest comment on his weight.

What's gotten into me?, Andrew thought, gently stroking his gut. I'm like a horny teenager! He stared at Richard, the broad shoulders, the thick beard, the burly muscles, and wondered if he had any idea of the effect he was having on him.

"Ah, just leave it here. Andy will eat it, won't you mate?"

Andrew looked up and stared nonplussed as Angela from history placed three large slices of cake next to him. "From Viv's birthday," she explained. "But there's hardly anyone in our office at the moment, that time of the year isn't it, so many trips."

"Same here Ange, just the two of us today. Don't worry though, Andy will make sure they go to a good home," Richard told her.

"Won't you have any?" she asked him.

"Ooh, none for me I'm afraid Ange! Got to watch my figure these days!" Richard said, patting his taut, flat stomach. "I might steal a crumb or two off Andy though, I remember how just legendary your cakes are."

"Oh well then," Angela said with a smile, appeased that her baking wouldn't be unappreciated. "You enjoy then, won't you," she said to Andrew, patting him on his shoulder and leaving the office.

"What was that?" Andrew asked.

"What was what?" Richard replied.

"That! Telling Angela I'd eat all the slices!"

"Well, you will, won't you?" Richard asked.

"I can't eat three slices to myself!" Andrew blustered.

"I've seen you get down more than that! Go on, don't feel guilty about me, I really am trying to watch my figure at the moment, avoiding sweets," Richard insisted.

"I might be watching my figure too!" Andrew said, his voice indignant.

Richard smirked and a devilish expression passed across his handsome face as he leaned in towards Andrew. "Well then I'm not sure what you've been watching it do then," he said with a wink, his voice low, as he reached out and patted Andrew's paunch.

Andrew's dick surged and he almost doubled over as a bolt of electricity raced up his spine at the touch, and the comment. Ever since that first day when he'd realised he'd put on a little weight, the accumulation of fat at his middle had become an obsession. He found himself overeating at every opportunity, craving the feeling of arousal he'd feel once he'd stuffed himself. His weight had slowly creeped up over the weeks and months and he was starting to look more and more like the men he'd admired for so many years.

"You enjoy yourself mate," Richard said, as he slapped Andrew on the shoulder and made his way out of the geography office. "I'm going for a slash."

Andrew engaged in a staring contest with the cake for a while, before giving in and dutifully taking the first bite. His eyes practically rolled back into his head. Angela's baking really was near-miraculous. He tried to limit himself to just one slice, but by the time Richard walked back into the room, the plate was completely empty, even the crumbs having been licked up. Andrew's sex- and food-fogged brain almost questioned why Richard had been quite so long, but the familiar mixture of tiredness and arousal that overeating brought on overrode any concerns he might have had.

"Right, period 5 in 10 minutes," Richard said, snapping Andrew out of his reverie. "I've got bloody year 7s. They'll be feral, last thing on a Friday. Ah well, someone's got to have them I suppose." He looked at Andrew and reached one hand out. "You've got a little something," he said casually, as he took one thumb and wiped Andrew's face, before taking his thumb and sucking some chocolate frosting from it. "God Angela's baking is good isn't it?" With that he left the room.

Andrew thanked every god he could think of that he had a free next period, as he didn't think he'd be in any state to teach any time soon.

"Where do you get your trousers from Andy? I've been looking for something a little looser on the thighs."

Andrew turned round to see Richard. "Oh, hi Richard, didn't see you there. Good weekend? Umm, just M&S I think, why?"

"I've been really hitting leg day recently, thought you might be able to give some recommendations for some trousers for the larger thighed gentleman." Richard reached out and gently patted the side of Andrew's thigh.

The touch barely made any contact, but it was enough to make Andrew almost spit coffee out across the staff room floor. Instead, he managed to merely choke on it, coughing and spluttering as he tried to recover.

Richard didn't seem to notice, and just carried on, pouring his own coffee. "I'd tried M&S already, maybe I hadn't looked at everything they had." His eyes flicked up and down Andrew's body. "You don't happen to know the fit you went with, do you?"

Andrew did his best to clear his throat and shrugged. "Whatever fit at the time. Probably just regular? I'm not really sure."

"Huh. Could have sworn you'd have probably had similar issues. Thought you'd have to go for some special cut," Richard said, before giving him a parting nod and wandering in the direction of some maths teachers.

Andrew raced out of the staff room as quick as he felt would go unnoticed, towards the bathroom by the geography office. As had become his custom, he locked the door as he hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and trousers.

Ever since the summer holidays, he'd actually been noticing the expansion of his thighs himself, playing with the rippling, creamy flesh as he'd eat his second dinner, or while finishing off a pack of donuts. He came quickly and keenly, as he always did after Richard's little comments. He chuckled at the idea that the hunk had no idea what his innocent remarks did to the growing man.

He wiped himself clean, and looked down to admire the stretch marks that had grown across his inner thighs with his recent rapid gains, bright red streaks joining the pale brown freckles that dotted his skin. As he did so, he noticed that stitching on his trousers was actually starting to become strained, with the fabric of the trousers clearly warping to accommodate his expanding body. The smiled to himself at the irony that Richard would ask for clothing advice while his clothes were visibly almost at their limit. He rolled his eyes at the obliviousness of his colleague and did his best to make himself presentable.

"Ask Andy, he always keeps a load of food in his desk."

"Oh, do you? Would you mind Andrew?" Lydia asked. "I'm absolutely starving. I didn't get a chance to have any breakfast."

"I don't 'always keep' food in my desk," Andrew protested, his voice strangled. His snacking habits had increased along with his waistline, but he didn't think it had gone noticed. He shuffled in his seat as he resisted his growing erection.

"Yes you do!" Richard insisted. "I see you snacking all the time. In that bottom draw, there, there's a load of food."

Andrew sighed and slid back his chair, opening the draw to reveal it full to bursting with various bags of crisps, bars of chocolate, packets of biscuits. "That's quite smart actually!" Lydia said. "Good for when you don't have time for breakfast!" She picked out a breakfast bar and moved to her desk.

"Or whenever else, eh Andy?" Richard practically whispered in his ear, and he ruffled his hair playfully before walking away. Andrew couldn't stop himself from shivering, and pretended to busy himself with sorting through the paper on his desk. He picked out a bar of chocolate before closing the draw.

"You up for it big guy?"

"What?" Andrew said, taken aback.

"Going for a few pints after the parents evening on Thursday? You coming along?" Richard reiterated.

"No, no, I heard that, I meant the-"

"Ah, he'll come along, don't mind him," Richard slapped a large hand on Andrew's soft thigh. "He barely bloody listens to anything I say," he said with a roll of his eyes and shake of his head. Wordlessly, he picked up a plate of biscuits and passed it to Andrew, who took it without question and began eating.

Andrew couldn't follow anything anyone said after that point. The words big guy echoed around and around his head. And the fact that no one questioned who Richard meant! He looked down at the soft, malleable fat that covered his body, and ran a hand across the expanse of his gut, noting with a thrill the tension in his clothes as they strained to contain his flesh. He really had become a big guy. The big guy, even, as far as his colleagues were concerned, apparently. He was happy that recently his gut had encroached almost fully onto his lap, almost completely covering his crotch when he was sat, and covering any sign of his arousal.

"Where do you think, big guy?" Richard was staring at him, clearly expecting an answer to a question.

"Oh, wherever you were thinking really," Andrew asked, hoping it wasn't too obvious that he wasn't paying attention.

Richard flashed a grin. "Well we were just saying The Needle, but I don't think they do food." He leaned in a little and stared intently into Andrew's eyes. "You'll want food, won't you big guy?"

Andrew swallowed hard and nodded, making sure not to break eye contact. He shifted in his seat and had to remind himself to breathe. What was with this sudden nickname? And was it always so hot in here? He tugged at his too-tight collar, fruitlessly trying to let in any air into his shirt.

"So it's decided!" Richard said, turning back to the others and breaking his spell over Andrew, as ever, seemingly completely oblivious to his effect on the fat man. "We'll go to the Bread Basket, get something to eat, then move onto the Needle after?"

The bell went, and everyone got to their feet grumbling, leaving just Richard and Andrew on their own. "You not teaching either?" Andrew asked.

"Nah, got a free," Richard said, before standing and stretching. "I might nip to that cafe across the road, the coffee in here is absolutely dirt. Do you want anything?" Without waiting for an answer, he grasped both of Andrew's shoulders from behind, leaning down until their faces were next to each other. "I'll get you a couple of pastries, big guy. You stay right here." He clapped his big hands onto Andrew's shoulders, and walked away.

Andrew twisted his bulk around in his seat, his body resisting the movement, to see Richard already striding out of the staff room, rearranging his trousers as he went.

"Oh, give him a bit more than that Fran, look at him! He can't be having the same portion sizes as the rest of us, can he?"

Andrew rolled his eyes, but gladly accepted the larger portion size and thanked Fran. He'd gotten used to Richard's teasing remarks by this point, and could even stop himself getting too aroused at most of them. "What do you want to do for the LGBT history month assembly then?" he asked Richard.

Richard sighed. "Oh bloody hell, is that coming up?"

Being two of the only out gay teachers at the school, they inevitably ended up running the LGBT support group, which primarily amounted to occasionally bollocking a teacher for misgendering a student, and sorting out the annual LGBT assembly.

"Why don't we do it in actual pride month again?" Richard asked.

"All the year 11s and 13s have buggered off on study leave by then, and neither of us are ever actually about to run it," Andrew pointed out.

"Oh, yeah," Richard said. "And the current year 11s really are very gay aren't they? They'll not want to miss it."

"Why are they so gay?" Andrew asked.

Richard shrugged. "Some year groups just end up really gay."

Andrew smiled. The two really did work well together, which many in the staff body found surprising - other than both being geography teachers and gay, they couldn't be more different really, a fact which Andrew occasionally thought was almost inspiring. Look, gay kids, you can be anything you want to be - from a hulking, musclebound sex god to a quivering, hairy wall of flab! Diversity win!

"We could ask Ellie if we could use that essay she wrote? About pride combatting shame or something?" Richard suggested as they sat down to eat.

"That might be nice actually. She might even read it out herself," Andrew said.

"Perfect! That's sorted then, let's forget about it for another year."

The two were quiet for a while after that, Richard knowing better than to interrupt Andrew while he was eating. Eventually, Andrew sat back and patted his gut. "God that lasagne is good," he said with a satisfied smile on his face.

"It's bloody awful," Richard said, sliding his own portion across. Andrew smiled and shook his head. Richard seemed to do this every day, and never seemed to cotton on to the pattern that had developed, not yet thinking to just take less food, or something he'd actually eat. Andrew took the almost untouched lasagne and the salad drenched in dressing that Richard had piled on top and started making his way through it, once again lapsing into silence, while Richard got up without a word.

Shortly after, Richard walked back up to Andrew carrying two bowls of pudding and custard, and placed them both down in front of him. "Here, I don't want mine."

"Why do you always pick one up then?" Andrew asked, starting on them with gusto.

Richard shrugged. "Force of habit I suppose," he said.

"Put it away mate!" Richard said, slapping the bottom of Andrew's gut and laughing.

Andrew froze. He was immediately, achingly hard. He put down the box he was holding onto the shelf, and lowered his arms slowly, as if it would make his arousal harder to notice. He closed his eyes, and did his best to convince himself that Richard wouldn't be able to notice. He opened his eyes to see Richard staring intently at his gut.

"Sorry," Andrew said, braking the silence. "This shirt rides up sometimes. Probably need the next size up." He moved to tug his shirt down, knowing it probably wouldn't quite tuck in after all he'd eaten today, but Richard reached out and placed a hand on the sliver of belly that peaked out, stopping him.

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Richard said, forcing his voice to be overly light and joking. "Happens to the best of us." Andrew knew for a fact that nothing similar had ever happened to Richard. "And besides, it's just the two of us. We've seen a lot more of each other than just a bit of belly."

Andrew's eyebrows flew up. They had an unspoken agreement to never, never talk about the night a few years ago that they drunkenly stumbled into Andrew's bed together. Despite a mutual attraction - Richard to the pelt of soft red fur that coated almost every inch of Andrew's body, Andrew to Richard's bulging muscles - nothing ever came from it. They woke up next to each other and never spoke of it again, each silently agreeing that it wasn't worth ruining their friendship and their professional relationship over.

"I think I looked a little bit different back then," Andrew said, giving a weak smile and forcing a small laugh. "So I'm not sure if you've actually seen this bit of my body before." He jokingly lifted his shirt up a little, flashing Richard the soft mound of freckled, hairy flesh that had accumulated on his lower belly of late.

Richard gasped, and his face drained of all colour. Andrew quickly pulled his shirt back down. Richard's eyes didn't move away from his belly. "Yeah, I uh," he started, his voice raspy. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess that we've both changed a bit since then haven't we?" His voice was shaking.

"And how exactly do you look any different?" Andrew asked.

"Umm, I grew my beard out," Richard said lamely. He was still staring directly at Andrew's gut. Andrew saw Richard's eyes flick down towards his crotch, where Andrew's cock was still hard as steel.

"Oh yeah," Andrew said, forcing a small laugh to try and defuse some tension. "I forgot you used to rock that moustache. Very sexy, I thought."

Richard's eyes rose to meet Andrew's, the first time the two had made eye contact throughout the conversation. "You think?"

Andrew nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you looked really good with it."

"Right. I didn't think you- that many people thought it looked good."

"No, I thought it looked great. Really great." Andrew was very aware that he was still so hard it hurt a little. He moved to pick up another box to file away, thinking it would at least allow him to hide somewhat.

Richard picked up the box before he could reach it. "I should be doing this!" he insisted. "You sit down, get a cup of tea and a biscuit."

"Oh, it's fine, really," Andrew said. "I'm taller anyway, it makes sense for me to do it."

"You're barely taller," Richard said. "And besides," he continued, "some of these boxes are way too heavy." They were not. "And you've had a busy day." He had not. "You sit down and relax for a bit. Finish those donuts I brought in."

"I had the last one after lunch," Andrew admitted. He'd actually had all the others as well, but didn't feel the need to add that.

Richard had put the next box on the shelf by now and came behind Andrew to forcibly steer him towards a seat. "There's another pack in my bag, I'll get you them."

"Why?" Andrew asked incredulously. "You haven't eaten a donut in a decade."

Richard didn't answer, just handing the pack over and carrying on putting away the boxes that currently filled the office. Andrew opened the pack and ate the first quickly. He looked at Richard to see his reaction, and saw him with a quiet smirk on his face, but didn't otherwise stop what he was doing.

Andrew settled down, eating the rest of the donuts and watching Richard's arms bulge each time he lifted a box above his head. Andrew noticed that Richard would check he was looking each time, and suspected that Richard was flexing more than he needed to, knowing that the boxes weren't actually as heavy as Richard was making out.

In return, Andrew put on a show for Richard, closing his eyes and sighing each time he licked sugar off his fingers, and eating each donut in just a couple of huge bites. He pushed his stomach out, causing his shirt to ride up to show pale, dimpled skin, and pretended he hadn't noticed.

"Right then," Richard said eventually. "That's that done. Tiring work eh? You as knackered as I am?" Andrew didn't question why he'd be tired, having only done a couple of boxes well over half an hour before. Richard reached out a hand, and Andrew accepted it, allowing Richard to help him strain to stand.

Richard placed his hand on the soft, sagging flesh beneath Andrew's shirt. "You've got to put this away, big guy," he said, echoing his words from before. This time though, he stood mere inches away from Andrew, and his voice was softer, but no less playful. "It's not decent."

"Sorry Rich," Andrew said with a smile. "I guess I've been putting on weight faster than I can replace my clothes."

Richard closed his eyes and breathed slowly. "We should go." His eyes opened and he stepped back a little, pulling away his hand. "I should go, I mean. And you. Separately."

"Right," Andrew said, making no attempt to pull down his shirt, massaging the slab of chub that Richard was holding seconds before. "I should get back and eat some dinner."

"You go on ahead," Richard said, now refusing to look at Andrew and busying himself with moving around some stationary on his desk. "I've got to nip to the loo. I'll lock up."

"Right, yeah," Andrew said. "I'll see you tomorrow then." He left with a smug grin. He wondered if he had any old shirts he could try and burst out of tonight, his cock hard at the thought.

"So you can sort that while we're all on D of E, can't you big guy?"

"Well I'll be going to D of E too," Andrew said, looking up.

The office grew quiet. "No mate, D of E. The Duke of Edinburgh expedition. Hiking across Exmoor or up a mountain with a load of students." Richard seemed to be the only person who didn't feel awkward about the conversation

"Yes, I know. I go every year. I'll be there too," Andrew insisted.

"Well have you spoken to Andy J about it then, big guy? Because I don't think he reckons you're going," Richard said, reaching up to stroke his thick moustache.

"Why wouldn't I go this year?" Andrew asked.

"Well, after you hurt your ankle, maybe it's not for the best," Lydia interjected tactfully.

"So? I went last year," Andrew pointed out. "My ankle's fine."

"Yeah, but you were what, a hundred pounds lighter last year?" Richard said. "More? And you weren't exactly slim then either." No one moved an inch. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Oh my god, look at the time!" Lydia said, her voice high and strained. "I've really got to go… umm… feed my… guinea pigs." She stood up and busied herself, as everyone else hurried to do the same. The office was empty in around two minutes, leaving Andrew and Richard staring at each other in silence.

The two men sat in silence for a while, eyes boring into each other. Andrew wondered whether Richard could have any clue about how hard he'd just made him; perhaps his shallow breathing could give it away, but would Richard just assume it was because of his weight? Andrew had actually been considering sacking off the expedition himself, wondering how he'd cope, but to hear someone else say it, to hear Richard say it, so matter of fact, without judgement or question, just a simple statement; you're too fat to walk a group of year 12s up a mountain. Andrew wondered how much he'd be able to force himself to eat tonight.

Richard broke the silence first. "Listen, mate-" his voice was hoarse and strained.

"No," Andrew interrupted, his voice just as shaky. "You're right. I should have thought. I've put on," he took a deep breath to steady himself. "I've put on a lot of weight this year."

Richard fidgeted in his seat. "How, umm," he started. "How much do you think you're clocking in at these days, big guy?" He almost seemed to choke on these last two words.

"I uh, I'm not sure. At least 300 pounds, definitely," Andrew managed to force out.

Richard took a deep, shuddering breath and gripped his pen tightly. "Wow, that's uh, I bet you don't admit that to just anyone."

Andrew shook his head slightly. "I've not told anyone else," he said. He wasn't sure why it was so important to him that Richard knew that.

Richard nodded. "Good. Well, I mean. You know what I mean." Andrew did not know what he meant. "I'm always here for- if you wanted to lose- I mean, not that I think you should, but if you wanted- I think you look amazing. Good. You look good. Fine, I mean. But if you didn't…" He stopped himself and looked up to the ceiling, breaking eye contact for the first time since everyone had left the office.

"No, I umm, I like it," Andrew practically whispered. "I mean, I don't mind it," he corrected himself, reminding himself that most people wouldn't enjoy putting on over 100 pounds in less than two years.

"Good. Good," Richard said, nodding. "I'm glad that you uh, that you're appreciating it. You uh," he exhaled slowly. "You look good. It suits you."

"You think?" Andrew asked. His hand travelled down and squeezed the thick wedge of soft fat of one of his love handles.

Richard nodded and closed his eyes, looking like he was trying to calm himself. "Yeah, it gives you some weight in the classroom. Gravitas I mean." He sighed and rubbed his beard. "You know what I mean."

"I think I might," Andrew said . He closed his eyes tightly and forced his hand away from groping his own curves and rolls. He felt like he was near bursting point, and he needed to get away, fast. He stood, heaving himself out of his chair with a grunt, the sudden movement seeming to shock Richard out of his trance. "I've got to go. I've got a uh, meeting. With the head."

Richard stood as well, in one smooth motion, and Andrew couldn't help but notice the large bulge at his crotch, reaching out towards his hip. Richard hastily grabbed some papers and held them in front of his trousers. "Right, yeah. Me too." He nodded quickly, as if to convince himself of something and fled the room, leaving his bag and laptop. Andrew followed much more slowly.

"Why do they always get these flimsy chairs out? You stay here big guy, I'll get you something sturdier."

"No, don't worry," Andrew said. "I'll be fine." But Richard was already walking away, out of the hall, in search of a chair that would stand a chance of surviving Andrew's weight.

Andrew stood awkwardly, watching everyone else casually grab a fold-up chair and put them down, ready for the staff meeting. He eyed the metal frames up, pondering whether they really couldn't support him anymore. He hadn't risked one in at least 40 pounds or so, and it'd been a little shaky then.

Other teachers streamed past Andrew, smiling at him, making small talk, not seeming to notice anything out of the ordinary about him not taking a seat. Clearly the problem was obvious to everyone.

Richard came back, carrying a sturdy wooden chair from the staff room that had recently come to be widely accepted as Andrew's personal chair, and a packet of biscuits. He placed the chair down, and passed Andrew the biscuits, clapping him on the lower back. "Bit of sugar to get us through Theresa's lecture, eh?" Andrew knew that Richard would not take any of them.

Andrew lowered himself down slowly, tensing as the chair groaned beneath him. Richard's eyebrows flew up and he gripped Andrew's shoulders tightly, ready to catch him should the chair collapse. Andrew brushed him off, satisfied that the chair would hold. His arse sagged over the sides, and he could feel a wedge of fat on his back hang slightly over the back of the chair.

"Absolutely ridiculous that they expect grown adults to sit in these things," Richard said as he threw himself down into a chair next to Andrew without incident. "Surprised no one's ever hurt themselves. It's like they think we're all bloody 15." He placed one hand on the back of Andrew's chair to support it if needed, and Andrew could feel his thumb lightly stroke the roll of fat that bulged out there.

Andrew couldn't pay any attention to the meeting, despite being sure at one point that he was referenced by name. He just smiled and hoped he wasn't expected to reply, before returning to being completely, overwhelmingly distracted by that simple stroking motion on his back. At one point Richard's hand moved up to lightly touch the roll of fat on the back of Andrew's neck, and he shuddered at the motion.

Richard and Andrew stayed on after every one else had left, helping put away the chairs and tables. Andrew had to admit that Richard was being far more useful, and Andrew had spent slightly longer finishing the leftover biscuits that had been provided than putting away furniture.

"Thank you, by the way," Andrew said as they propped a table up in a closet. "For earlier. The chair. It can be a bit embarrassing, navigating some of these situations."

Richard spun round, his eyes wide. "What do you mean embarrassing?"

"Well, you know, getting so fat this past year or two. It can lead to some pretty embarrassing scenarios." Andrew was taken aback by Richard's somewhat extreme reaction.

Richard moved closer and put a hand on Andrew's cheek. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't feel embarrassed. You look great. Amazing. I'm sorry if people have made you…" He closed his eyes and took a breath before opening them again, his eyes drilling directly into Andrew's. "I'm sorry if I've ever said anything that's embarrassed you. I've never meant to. It's just supposed to be, you know, banter."

"No, no, it's fine. You're fine. You've never- I mean I don't mind when you- That is, the way you do it. It's good." Andrew's mind was racing. He could swear that Richard was slightly stroking his beard.

"Right. Okay." Richard said, not breaking eye contact or moving his hand away from Andrew's face. "I don't want you to ever feel bad, you know? Or to make you feel bad."

"I know, I know," Andrew reassured him. "You're a good mate."

"Yeah," Richard said. "You too. A good mate."

The two stood like that for a while, before they heard a sound outside the hall. They leapt apart and busied themselves putting away chairs. Viv came in, not looking their way. "Don't mind me!" she called cheerfully. "Just looking for my bag!"

Andrew and Richard didn't reply or look at each other, focusing intently on putting away the chairs.

"You scrub up well, big guy."

"You too, Richard," Andrew replied. They stood near the entrance of the annual year 13's leavers' dinner, both in tight tuxes - Richard's straining against his thick arms and perky pecs, Andrew's straining against everything.

"That a new tux?" Richard asked.

Andrew flashed a smile. "Didn't have much choice in the matter Rich." In truth, he'd bought the tux six weeks ago, anticipating the event and knowing he'd never fit into the same one as last year, but the increasing sexual tension between him and Richard had sent him on a wild marathon of eating, and he'd had to ask a particularly handy friend to let the tux out for him. It still didn't quite fit him now, and he carefully restricted his movements in it to avoid any tears in the tortured fabric.

"No," Richard said. "No, I suppose you didn't much." He swallowed hard, and his eyes roved up and down Andrew's body, taking in each curve and roll. "We've been put on the same table, I checked the seating plan."

"Oh, good," Andrew said. "I was worried about who would eat all your food."

Richard grinned. "I'll manage a bite or two. Don't worry, I'll leave you a little."

"Hmm. Are we with anyone good?" Andrew asked.

"Table's not too bad actually," Richard said. "Some quite bright kids. Sensible. They'll be drunk but not rowdy."

"That's not so bad. I was stuck trying to control a load of the knobheads last year," Andrew said.

"I think they're a bit nervous you'll be more interested in the food than in behaviour management this year," Richard teased.

"Hey! I may be fat but I can still shout at some kids," Andrew protested.

"Yeah, you can shout at them, but what if you need to chase after some of the drunker ones?"

Andrew shrugged. "That's what people like you are for."

"Oh yeah? I'm supposed to be at your beck and call am I?" Richard's voice was growing breathless.

"I certainly thought so," Andrew said breezily. "But I've noticed you haven't gotten me any of those canapés or a glass of prosecco yet, so maybe I'm wrong."

Richard bolted to get Andrew some food without a word and returned shortly after having stolen an entire tray of food.

"You've gotten so fucking fat Andy."

"Excuse me?" Andrew said, pulling away from Richard, who was leaning in for another kiss.

Richard pulled Andrew closer and leaned his head into Andrew's neck, nuzzling into the thick stubble there. "I said that you are. So. Fucking. Fat." He punctuated each word with a kiss. Andrew could feel Richard's large cock straining against his trousers and against Andrew's thigh.

"That's not very polite," Andrew said, lightly nibbling Richard's ear.

"Oh don't pretend you don't fucking love it," Richard growled. "I've seen you rubbing your gut when you think no one's watching, disappearing to the toilet for a wank every time you've eaten too much."

"I could say the same to you," Andrew laughed.

"And perhaps most importantly," Richard said, his hands roving all over Andrew's tux. "I found your grommr profile: 'Hot colleague called me big guy today, got so hard I almost passed out. Hot colleague touched my gut today, I think he might be a closet encourager. Hot colleague had to get me a sturdier chair today, thought I'd break one of the others.'" He pulled back slightly, his eyes clouded with lust. "Who's this hot colleague then, anyone I should be worried about?"

Andrew laughed and nodded. "It's Angela. All those cakes she brings in, I think she might be trying to ruin my figure." He reached up to untie his bowtie and Richard stopped him, large square hands encircling chubby wrists.

"Let me," Richard said, his voice quiet and intense. Slowly, Richard pulled Andrew's bowtie loose, and undid his top button. Andrew felt relief wash over him as the collar stopped cutting into his neck, fat no longer bulging out over the top.

Richard bent to kiss the newly freed flesh, before continuing to undo Andrew's shirt buttons, pausing to kiss a newly revealed section of hairy skin after each. Eventually, the shirt was fully undone and Richard slowly knelt down as if in worship. "I can't believe how soft it all is," he whispered, staring into the abyss of Andrew's belly button, before burying his face into Andrew's gut. He moaned as he rubbed the soft fat, running his hands around towards the back where he squeezed the enormous love handles and ran his fingers through the hair on Andrew's back, barely coming up for air.

Richard sighed. "I've put so much weight onto you," he muttered, more to himself than Andrew.

Andrew laughed. "Excuse me? You? I think you'll find this is all my handiwork."

Richard shook his head. "Come on. You know you'd have never done it without me. All those little comments. I could see them drive you wild."

Andrew's stomach rumbled and Richard pulled back, still kneeling, and looked up at Andrew as if in prayer. "You're hungry. You want food, of course you do, you've barely eaten today." Andrew thought back to the three-course meal he'd consumed mere hours before, and most of Richard's too. Richard scrambled to stand. "You stay there, don't move, don't take anything off." He practically sprinted from the room and into the kitchen, where Andrew could hear doors banging and drawers rattling. Richard came back with an armful of fattening foods. "I've been stocking up," he told Andrew. "Until you were here." He threw his bounty down onto the bed, and moved back around to Andrew.

First he slid off Andrew's jacket and shirt, kissing his round shoulders and down his soft, heavy arms. Then he moved down to kneel in front of Andrew again and pushed him down to sit on the bed. Andrew picked up some crisps and began eating as Richard reverently undid Andrew's belt, struggling to get his hands under the sack of fat which overhung it, and slid his trousers down his legs. Richard started kissing Andrew's legs, paying particular attention to his thighs, making sure to place his lips gently on each of the pale stretch-marks that streaked across them, but Andrew could feel that Richard was getting quicker, more frantic as he carried on.

Finally, with shaking hands, he slid down Andrew's briefs, struggling, as Andrew did each day, to get them past his rotund thighs. Richard was fully clothed in front of a naked Andrew now, and Andrew felt a thrill at how exposed he was.

Richard sighed as Andrew's cock was released, and he pushed Andrew down so that he was laying on the bed, and used his hands to push the fat up and away from the hard pole, making it easier to access, and he buried his face into Andrew's thick bush of pubes, inhaling his scent deeply. It was the best blowjob of Andrew's life, even accounting for the one he'd received from Richard a few years prior, on that never mentioned, but often remembered night that they'd spent together. Richard was slower this time, more gentle. His fingers reached across Andrew's large body, stroking every inch of skin they could find.

Andrew continued to eat, even as he climaxed, his body shaking and jiggling as he cried out. Richard moved up onto the bed to kiss him, Andrew tasting his own cum on Richard's lips, and the two lay next to each other.

"Did you like that?" Richard asked, fingers dancing through the swirls of Andrew's chest hair and occasionally cupping his pendulous breasts, which sagged towards his armpits.

Andrew laughed breathlessly, sending ripples across his body. "Are you kidding?" he said. "That was incredible." He reached over to begin undressing Richard. "Your turn now."

Richard shook his head. "You don't have to. We'll do anything you want to do, anything." He sat up to help Andrew undress him, hurriedly taking off his trousers to reveal a pair of briefs tented by an absurdly hard penis. "I know you bottomed last time, but I'm happy to do whatever. If you wanted to top, or bottom, or do whatever. We don't need to do anything you don't want to." He leaned in to kiss Andrew slowly, deeply, passionately.

Andrew pulled away after a while and nodded. "I'm okay to bottom. I might have a shower first? Get prepped."

Richard nodded frantically, moving to help Andrew stand. "Could we- I mean, only if you wanted to, it's just, I'd really like to- Everything else, I want you to choose, really I do, but there's one thing. And we don't have to even do that, if you didn't want. I just. I think I need it."

Andrew laughed at the normally so confident man reduced to a sycophantic mess, and kissed him on the forehead. "We can do whatever, just say."

Richard cleared his throat. "I'd really like it if you'd lay on top of me. For a bit. I know it's stupid, but I just… I want to feel your weight on top of me. Please. I…" his voice caught. "Please." He stared intently into Andrew's eyes, mere inches away.

Andrew nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, if you want." He kissed him again, and Richard bounded towards the bed and taking off his underwear, his cock sticking straight up as he lay down.

Andrew laughed as he crawled onto the bed and top of Richard. Even on all fours, his stomach was already hanging down and covering Richard's abs. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh god," Richard moaned. "Yes. Please. Yes."

Andrew lowered himself down, taking the weight off his arms, and he felt Richard squirm underneath him. Andrew was unsurprised but aroused to realise that his fat touched the mattress on either side of Richard as his body almost entirely enveloped the smaller man. He leaned down to Richard's face, who looked like he was in ecstasy, and kissed him hard. He could feel Richard buck his hips slightly beneath him, as much as he could manage and after a while Richard cried out, and Andrew felt a wetness fill some of the folds of his gut. Richard's face relaxed into one of utter bliss, and Andrew struggled to roll off of him.

"Right then," he told Richard with a smirk, who still looked like he was recovering. "I'm going to have a shower while you make me a snack. And then we can carry on."

Richard nodded frantically and ran towards the kitchen like an enthusiastic puppy, still smeared in his own seed. Andrew laughed to himself. He could get used to this.

"You're a 5XL, right, big guy?"

"God, I don't know," Andrew called from the couch. "You usually take care of all that. Why?"

"I'm thinking for when we're in Italy next month, none of your old swimming shorts will fit from last year." Richard came in wearing an apron and holding an iPad. "Do you fancy shorts or speedos?"

"Could you get a couple of different sizes in both and I'll try them on?" Andrew looked down at his body, flowing out over his lap. "You don't think I could need 6XL, do you?"

Richard looked over the iPad. "Maybe! You've kept on piling on weight, you'll get there sooner or later. And those 5XLs are looking tighter by the day."

Andrew looked down at himself, rubbing a hand along his soft expanse, before heaving himself to a standing position. "Hey! Hey! No," Richard said, gently pushing him back down. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm getting some snacks," Andrew said, wriggling to prepare to stand again.

"No, that's my job. Stay right there." He returned shortly after with a tray of food, opening a family sized bag of crisps and some chocolate bars to hand over. "I'm going to the gym in a bit, and we'll have dinner straight after. I've made a couple of lasagnes, if that's okay?"

"With garlic bread?" Andrew asked.

"Of course with garlic bread!" Richard said, leaving down to kiss Andrew's soft, huge cheek. "I've got to keep my big guy fed, don't I?"

Andrew smiled. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

#gainer fiction #gainer story #gaining fiction #weight gain #weight gain fiction #weight gain story #male weight gain #wg story #Little Comments

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year

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Azriel x Reader | A Court of Shadows & Dragons pt. 2

type: fluff-ish warning(s): none actually, violence towards the end word count: 3.8k words summary/request: As it has been requested, here is part two of ACOSAD, thank you for the love you have shown my story. And also a big thank you to @moonlightazriel for helping me with all the info about house of dragons, because I still have not seen it. Oh and I made a change in the tense it is written in.

Azriel fully settles down behind you, his strong thighs caging you in, his solid chest pressing against your back. You shift slightly, adjusting to him and drawing something like a silent growl from the male behind you. Although it makes you chuckle you also feel your toes curl at the rawness of that noise.

You glimpse over your shoulder, the corner of your mouth moving up. “Everything’s alright?”

The male with the shadows clears his throat, his gaze lifting to yours. “Everything’s perfect,” he says, offering you a small smile.

“Well, then, hands on my waist or arms around my waist.”

The male seems irritated for a moment, his brow arching. “You have to hold on, Lord Azriel. We are going to ride over hilly landscape to reach the Emerald Plains. I don’t want you to fall off.” It hits Azriel then that you are actually a princess and he…he takes some time to react. Clearing his throat again, this time louder, Azriel does as being told. His–Gods and Dragons, his scarred hands move to your waist, fingers curling ever so slightly. You shudder at the thought of what might have happened to him. It looks like he has been burned, or has burned himself. You cannot quite imagine the pain and you really want to ask what has happened, but then…it would be impolite, way too intrusive. Maybe you would ask later?

“That is alright, your…majesty?” Azriel fetches you back, and you need a short moment to ponder over what he has asked you.

And then–has he just called you your majesty? A fairly loud giggle leaves you and you bow your head. “Perfect. But please, it is Y/N. And if you insist on being formal then call me Lady Y/N or princess, but please don’t call me your majesty.”

Pink splotches appear on the male’s cheeks and he inclines his head, a tint of embarrassment lacing his features. “It is too formal,” you quickly add, hoping to ease some of his sudden tension.

Clicking you tongue you signal your horse to get going, falling into line with whom Azriel recognises as the male who has opened the gates for him, Cass and Nes. Speaking of those to, they are right behind the two of you, Cassian looking slightly scared and holding onto his mate for dear life.

“Lady Y/N, may I ask, do you also use the dragons to travel?” Nesta asks rather out of the blue, directing her horse to walk a little faster. You look at her over your shoulder.

“Yes. But only a few of us. It is actually just my family that uses them to travel. You…it is a bit complicated.” You smile at her, her expression all curious and impressed. So you continue, “We are bonded to them somehow. It happens at birth. And when you are bonded to a dragon you will also be allowed to ride them. They won’t allow anyone else to mount them and take them for a flight. They are highly majestic creatures and very loyal to the crown and obviously their bonded fae.”

“Now I am impressed,” Nesta mumbles, eyes wide open. Cassian hums in agreement, his hands tightly holding onto Nesta’s.

A warm chuckle leaves you, but it quickly dies down.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps to the side at the sudden sharp voice piercing through the otherwise calm landscape. “Yes, my dearest brother?” you say in a slightly mocking voice that has the corner of Azriel’s mouth tip up. So this male is your brother, Azriel thinks to himself, wondering how such a male of such a height and cruel facade could be related to the lovely being that is you. The shadowsinger has no time to ponder for long when the male’s deadpan meets the him.

"Are you comfortable with him touching you?"

"I offered it, Aerond. So calm down.” “Y/N, you know about—“ “My purity. Of course. I won’t lose my virginity from a male sitting behind me on a horse. Unless—is that how it works? Is that how babies are made? Is that how—" “That is not funny, Y/N,” Aerond snarls, his gazes angry, his posture stiff.

“Oh, I find it highly amusing, brother. But enlighten me then? How does one lose her virginity if not like that?" Azriel can hardly contain his own laughter. He bites the inside of his cheeks, holding back to not have to become friend's with your brother's fist. That large male is scary and nearly a foot taller than Azriel, and although the Illyrian is a skilled warrior he knows he might lose this fight. And losing is something Azriel will never allow nor accept. So better not start a fight with that male in the first place.

“Ask you handmaidens at home, Y/N, but I know that you have a thing for those smutty books, so I believe you already know the answer to it.” Snorting, Aerond softly hits the side of his boot against his horse, making it move faster.

Turning your head slightly you roll your eyes, a blush creeping from your cleavage up to your face. Azriel chuckles lowly behind you, the sound so lovely, so raw, so natural. You like it. Actually you love it, it might become one of your favourite sounds.

The further you head out into the open landscape the cooler the wind gets and the more snow covers the landscape. On your own accord, you shift closer to the male, finding shelter in the warmth of his large frame.

There is no avoiding your scent. Azriel tries no to relish in it too long, in the scent —the earthy, woodsy smell— of your shampoo. He draws in a slow breath glancing past your shoulder, the horse steadily moving underneath the two of your.

“What is Prythian like, Lord Azriel?” The question comes rather out of the blue and startles our shadowsinger just a tiny bit as he has once again been slightly captured by your beauty, your smell and hasn’t been paying a lot of attention. Azriel clears his throat, palms turning just a tint sweaty.

“Azriel, also just Azriel for you. I am no lord,” he then finally says and it makes you turn your head. You glimpse at him over your shoulder, arching a brow. “You are no lord? You seemed like one, so well-mannered and polite,” you say and feel heat creep into your cheeks. A beautiful smile blooms on Azriel's face and he bows his head slightly. “I feel honoured to recieve such a compliment. Thank you, but it is true, I am no lord.”

Smiling, your turn back to the road, marvelling into the soft press of his thighs against your hips. “So what is it like? Prythian?”

“Ah, yes, right,” Azriel says and pauses for a moment, like he is deliberating what exactly to tell you and how. “Prythian is…alright. But I come from the Night Court. The most beautiful court in all of the continent. There are other courts, like Day, Summer, Dawn. They stand for different things and have or have not changes in seasons and so on…” You love how he babbles, his voice so beguiling to listen to. The slight rasp to it, the deep tenor, is like music in your ears. If he was a singer, you thought, you could listen to his music for hours. You don't want him to stop talking, wanting to know more about the country in the ocean so very far away.

“Enlighten me, please, what this all means.”

Azriel hums and you feel his fingertips press firmer into your hips. You like this feeling.

And so Azriel does. He tells you about the different courts, going very much into detail, and placing a big focus on explaining everything about the famous Night Court, his home. You love how soft his voice is when talking about his home, how in awe he sounds and how full of excitement he is to share this with you. Later he also asks you to tell him about Valyria and you do.

“My father and mother died around half a century ago, my brother, as he is the oldest out of us three and obviously the strongest, ascended the throne and that is mostly it,” you finish with your story. Azriel seems absolutely flabbergasted about everything you have told him, admiration lacing his features when he regards you silently from behind.

“Where do you shadows actually come from? The swirls around your body? Only if I may ask of course,” you say in a calm voice, peeking over your shoulder. Azriel is already looking at you, a faint pinkish tone blooming high on his cheeks when you catch him looking at you.

His hand gives your waist a barely-there squeeze when he inclines his head, eyes aglow and his shadows coming alive around his body. They start swirling, stretching out, somehow like they are happy that you finally asked about them.

“I am a shadowsinger,” Azriel says. “Through the shadows I can hear and feel what others might not notice.” Your mouth forms an O while your eyes widen and you stare at him. “Well, tell me then. What am I feeling right now?” You roll your shoulders back, hands still tightly holding onto the reigns when you crane your neck. Azriel’s breath stops for a moment, his eyes fully focused on yours. You are the most beautiful female in the entire world, he is sure about that. And you are smart. And kind. And speak your mind when you feel like it. You are—

“Is there something on my face?” You fetch the shadowsinger, that has been caught in utter admiration, back to reality. Your grin widens when you see the slight embarrassment creep into his features and he gives his head a tiny shake. “No, nothing. I am sorry.” “Don’t apologise. I feel…flattered. Males normally don’t look at me like that.” Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, it is sad somehow. “That I cannot imagine. You are…very beautiful,” Azriel says, gathering all confidence he has, his heart pounding in his throat, his skin prickling and a bit of cold sweat building up on the back of his neck. Colour fills your cheeks your cheeks when you lower your gaze, looking at your horses mane. You draw in a shaky breath and giggle softly. “Thank you so much,” you whisper, unable to avoid the silly grin from spreading over your whole face. You don’t know if he does it deliberately or not, but Azriel moves closer and a shudder courses through your body at the solid press against your back.

“To be honest most males are afraid to even glance at me since they know my brothers and know that they would probably slice their chests open if looking at me for too long.”

You turn back to Azriel, wanting to see his expression, but it has gone back to unreadable, indifferent almost.

“You appreciate that but sometimes you feel like you are a little too over-protected,” Azriel says, matter of fact, his gaze momentarily dropping to your lips. Your mouth gapes and you furrow your brows.

“That is what my shadows told me.” The corner of Azriel’s lips tips up, placing a lazy smirk on his face. But it vanishes quickly, turning into a soft smile.

“Yes, yes, that is what I am feeling. Exactly this. I am impressed,” you breathe, eyes trailing over Azriel’s face.

You continue to talk a little about the upcoming war as well as the sword you are looking for. YOu yourself have obviously heard about the legends and stories surrounding the sword, but have never believed it would be somewhere here.

The air gets even colder the further you travel, now heading towards the big Forest of Despair. You don’t really know who has given the forest that name and why is it called like that. You have only ever been here twice in your life, have always avoided it. You lean closer to Azriel, inhaling deeply when you glance at the large, almost black trees towering in front of you.

“The Forest of Despair,” you inform the shadowsinger behind you. “We have to ride through it. Hopefully without a stop. Then come the Emerald Plains which are—“

You cut yourself of. The Emerald Plains, as beautiful as the name is, where territory that was technically not part of the kingdom, so the king had no power over it. It separated from the kingdom ages ago due to uproars from the people living there. Now it was mostly used for illegal businesses as the no law would account for that place.

You swallow the lump in your throat, knuckles turning white from how tightly you hold onto the reigns. “We have to be careful there. Really careful.” “Why is this place dangerous?” a female voice asks behind you. Nesta and Cassian, Azriel’s companions, fall in line with you. The latter looks rather pale, maybe even a bit green-ish and you get the impression that riding was the preferred way of transportation for the general.

“It is no longer, or rather since around two centuries, under the rule of the kingdom. They separated and now this area knows no law. We just have to be careful. It is still morning so maybe we are lucky and not too many people are around.”

The large trees slowly cage you in, making it even cooler now that they block the sunlight. The Forest of Despair is just a small forest, so will manage to ride through it within around twenty minutes. The leaves are a dark brown, almost black, hanging low. Not only are their trees with leaves, there also pines tries, the needles covering the dirty ground.

“It is rumored that some lesser fae live here. Tiny mischievous fairies,” you say to Azriel in a whisper, not wanting to draw attention to you. “No one has ever seen them, but there are rumors and legends.” Azriel hums in acknowledgment and looks around in the forest, his gaze momentarily meeting Cassian and Nesta’s who look equally uneasy. It is so dark, so cold, so…odd in this forest. It looks like all life has been sucked from this place and Azriel can hardly imagine that this is not the most dangerous part of the journey.

Your body goes rigid when you spot the end of the forest in the distance. It is just a white spot, telling you that the outside is also covered in snow again. It is obviously not the snow that scares you, but what you will meet there. Your muscles stiffen, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

Azriel notices it, his arm sliding around your middle, almost like he is trying to protect you from whatever lurks behind the darkness of those trees. But then his gaze follows yours and he also looks at the white hole in the the distance between the large black trees. He leans in, brushing the hair from your shoulder, his nose touching you neck. “The Emerald Plains?” His close proximity, his raspy voice, how his nose touched yours, it does something to you. And although it feels very wrong and odd in this moment, your toes curl and heat feels your lower belly. Your breath his ragged when you bow your head, unable to speak. Azriel leans back, his thumb smoothing over your hipbone, sending a bolt of awareness through your whole body.

As much as you want to stop this moment right there, freeze it and never leave it, there is no avoiding that you slowly reach the end of the forest.

A horse neighs loudly and it is Aerond who holds up his hand, a large sword tightly clasped in it. “Weapons at the ready!” he orders. “We don’t know what expects us out there. Get in formation. No matter what happens, Y/N, is and will be protected at any moment. And yes, lovely sister, I know you can protect yourself, but you are still the princess of this kingdom. So, her life before ours.”

You heart clenches at that because you know they are dead serious. But you want let them spill blood for you. You will fight and protect yourself if necessary and you will also fight and protect the others, if necessary. You push your coat pack, hand sliding over your thigh to free the dagger strapped to it. It is made of… “Shadowstone,” you breathe and lean into Azriel. “Shadowstone, what a coincidence, huh?”

A low rumble leaves Azriel. his eyes trained on the onyx dagger in your hand that has one diamond at the back–it has the same colour as his siphons. He is has no time to answer properly though.

The moment sunlight falls over you again, your eyes burning when they get in contact with the bright white of the landscape, shouts and screams holler from all around you. Some voices belong to your own people, but most of the growls come from other people. Those people, you wouldn’t have wanted to meet. Azriel draws his own hunting knife simultaneously to you lifting your dagger in front of your body. Nesta and Cassian do just the same, both clasping their swords tightly in their hands, ready to fight. But the attack does not come immediately.

“Look at what he have here. Prince Scarface of Vallyria and our glorious, untouched maiden Princess of Vallyria.”

You don’t recognise the voice, have no face to it, until a tall male with a bold head steps forward, sneering. You still don’t know his name, but you know that you have seen him before.

“Get out of the way, Torgan,” Aerond snarls, pivoting towards him. “Tell your males to get lost. We just want to pass. We mean no harm.” Laughter erupts all around you which has cold sweat break out on the back of your neck.

“The crown means now harm. Did you hear this friends?” Shouts and growls fill the otherwise so silent Emerald Plains. This place was not under Valyrian reign and gods, this scared you so much. No matter what those males and females would do to you, they would not face any consequences.

“She is still as prude and untouched as a few years ago?” His gaze moves to yours, tongue poking out of his mouth to lick over his lips. You sit up straight, your chin held high, looking down on him.

“Be careful how you speak about the Princess of Valyria.” You startle, not having expected him to speak up. Not having expected his voice to be so loud, so powerful, so full of rage. On your own accord, your hand moves over Azriel’s squeezing. The male called Torgan laughs, loud and vicious, and does not even pay attention to Azriel before looking back at your brother. “She got herself a protector now, huh?” he sneeres, shoving his sword into the snow-covered ground in front of him. “Look, Aerond, we are not here to chit-chat, you know what we want.” “And we cannot give that to you. You wanted separation, you wanted to be free of the crown and without being under the rule of the crown you want get what you are asking for.”

Targon’s mouth forms a straight line, his shoulders and chest rising with a deep inhale. “Wrong,” he says, matter-of-fact, “we always get what we want. Attack!”

Swords are drawn, shouts and growls are released. You jump of your horses, Azriel, Nesta, Cassian doing as all of you, ready to fight off each and everyone who comes at you. You duck under one males arm, sliding your foot out to make him fall before thrusting your dagger into his chest. Blood leaks from his mouth when you face yet another attacker, his face making contact with your dagger rather quickly and then another male is met with the kick of your foot.

But there are too many of them. You are only a good dozen of people, and they are…they must be close to fifty people.

Your heart beats frantically against your rib cage, anguish and fear filling your entire system. But also rage and fury. A dash of adrenaline rushes through your body when you manage to fight of yet another person. You have also already taken some blows, your upper lips is cut, your left eye probably soon brushing as an elbow has made contact with it. There is also a small sash below your ribcage, but you try to not pay too much attention to it.

While fighting you always try to keep and eye on Azriel and Aerond, not wanting to lose them out of sight. A hand fists the hair at the back of your head, yanking you backwards and into a hard chest. You cry out when sharp pain explodes in your rib cage, knowing that the attacker that had probably broken some ribs. Azriel, distracted by your scream, does not see who is coming for him. He does not notice the sword coming down on him, slicing through his right wing. The scream of utter and pure pain that leaves him is no longer fae nor mortal, it is something primal and it is something you have never heard before. Your heart cracks, your vision going blurry when you shove the male away, heading for the fallen Illyrian warrior.

And just when you think that everything is lost, a large shadows falls over you. The flapping of leathery wings in the sky above you drowns out all the other noises, their roaring buzzing in your ear. Your slam down on the ground next to Azriel, cradling his head in your palms. Your gaze lifts to the sky where your dragon, his large wings blocking the sun, sends a flash over fire right over a good dozen of those who are attacking you. “Vermithor,” you breathe, hope blossoming in your chest. You dragon’s brothers and sisters are in tow, flying lowly and eliminating everything in the wake of their fire. “Stay with me, Azriel,” you breathe when a low groan draws your attention back to the male in your arms. “Stay with me. We can fix this. It is just your wing, we will heal this. But stay with me.”

Azriel blinks one eye open, dipping his chin slowly. “I’ll try my best,” he mumbles, his fingers curling towards his palm. A loud roar fills the sky above you when a big blow of fire parts your dragons lips, and in its wake turning every living being into dust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag): @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @azriel-luvr @historygeekqueen @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @peaceandcrackers

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #azriel x you #acotar #acosf

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sweetainwen · 2 years

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ᴅᴇᴇᴘʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜɴᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ [PJM]

Summary: there's a bond between them, they both know it, but what she doesn't know is that its roots are deeper and more unconditional than she thinks, and he’s eager for her to feel that.

Pairings: yandere hybrid actor!Jimin x female actress!OC (you can think of her as Y/N)

Genre: 1990!au, hybrid!au, mate!au, yandere!au, smut

Disclaimer: this story is fictional, so each character is not as described in it.

Warnings: obsessive behavior, just a slight sight of blood, unprotected sex (she is on pills), oral (m.), sub!Jimin, non-consensual marking, penetrative sex, lovesick!Jimin, whiny!Jimin, he literally worships her c:

Word count: 2.4k+

A/N: thank you so much for following me and liking my posts! Hope you will like this too, i mean, i tried c:

Parties weren’t Jimin’s thing. Loud noises, incessant laughter and chattering, alcohol, overcrowding. They caused an excruciating headache, his sensitive fox ears ringing for days, unfortunately prolonging the pain.

This time his mate was there though, and he couldn't help but come to get another glimpse of her.

Given the rarity of the occurrence, it was unlikely for hybrids to face such a situation. Compatibility was almost nil even among the hybrids themselves, nevertheless there were still instances of them finding their mates.

He never thought he would meet someone who would completely flip him out, yet here he was, at a party planned by their director in his huge villa celebrating the successful outcome of the drama in which he and his mate had starred as the main characters.

He knew her only by name, how her acting chops made anything to do with the world of entertainment look good, her respectful and gentle way of communicating her thoughts, and even her beauty.

Kang Eunmi was the best actress with more awards won for her talent in the last years, a gem in the acting career. And Jimin was convinced that her fame would increase in the nineties as well.

He was no less. If Kang Eunmi was all over the news and newspapers, the name Park Jimin was not missing.

His donations, the love he showed for his work as an actor and his fans, the way he connected with people.

Both of their fans wished to see them paired up in some drama or movie, and they too had happily expressed that they would love to be cast together for something. That day came along with an overwhelming twist for Jimin.

Just a whiff of that delectable scent of her was all it took to unhinge his senses, overscenting every other scent in the place. It made its way into his lungs and became air to breathe. Intoxicating him.

A brush of fingers, arms, any part of him against hers would blaze and cause goosebumps all over his body. Craving not to pull away.

Her dulcet voice drawing him in as she flashed her dazzling smile to ensnare him even more, like a siren with a sailor. Her dark eyes finally dragging him into her sorcerous world.

Bewitched he was, willingly bewitched, and it was apparent that she was also attracted to him. She was not hiding her interest.

Longing and fleeting glances were being shared across the room, a small alluring smile tugging at their lips, to elicit any kind of reaction from each other. Attentive not to get caught to keep up their game of seduction.

There was something so beautifully intimate about that brief eye contact that happened clearly but also covertly.

Two lovers speaking only with their eyes.

But when that brief oh so intimate eye contact suffered an intrusion, the cocoon of affinity and attraction that surrounded them would be torn apart.

And it irritated him.

There was always someone interrupting. As co-actor Jung Hoseok was doing now, snatching his partner's attention with words whispered in her ear after approaching her with a smirk he would have loved to wipe off his face before having both of their gazes on him.

The man raised his drink at him with a slight movement of his head and a waggle of his eyebrows. Jimin’s fox ears twitched, returning the gesture with a forced smile.

“I see steam coming out of his ears,” Hoseok giggled and Eunmi followed suit, smacking his chest with the back of her hand.

"Hold this for me," she said, handing him her glass, her eyes still locked with her favorite hybrid. "I'll be back later."

She heard him whistle and she chuckled at it, knowing that a grin was making its way across his face at her intentions as she headed for the stairs to the upper floor,

Eunmi stepped into one of the many guest rooms, lucky to find it unoccupied as she started to kick the black heels off her feet, breathing a sigh of relief.

The door being closed caused her to turn and she saw Jimin leaning against it with his arms crossed and his head tilted slightly to the side, his golden eyes sparkling with jealousy.

“Don't you think you've gotten too much into your character? The drama is over, you don't have to play the jealous part anymore, Mr. Park.” She cocked her head to the side, a teasing smirk spreading across her face.

Jimin hummed, nodding his head, his tongue playing with his inner cheek, and those simple gestures provoked a sudden wave of heat between her legs.

He took a few steps towards her, his hand stretched forward in a tacit request for permission to have hers, which she accepted without faltering, putting her palm on his.

“Can you blame me for that? Spells are hard to break if you don't know the formula well, Ms. Kang,” he whispered one of the lines played by him in their drama before placing his lips on the back of her hand in a lingering kiss, a desire-filled look exchanged between them, tension sensed in the air.

Eunmi tittered, a little alluring giggle that tickled his eardrums, “How flattering.”

Her eyes followed the fingers of her other hand lightly caressing his chest until they reached the hem of his turtleneck and slipped inside, sensing his muscles beneath them and hearing his breath hitch.

One last glance was enough for their lips to meet in a ravenous kiss, his hands gripping her body tight but gently to not hurt her with his hybrid strength as her hands pulled hard at his hair, eliciting a soft moan from him.

He trailed a hand down to the hem of her black short dress to lift it a little bit – tenderly, like touching something precious – and she could feel it sneak into her lace panties, sliding a finger into her and making her shudder.

A low chuckle left his mouth, breaking the kiss, the warmth of his breath hovering over her face as he looked at his finger playing with her folds, “So wet already…” He glanced up at her, “Are you that eager to fuck me?”

It was like a switch being turned off, eyes darkening and pupils dilating.

In an instant, her palms collided with his chest, and Jimin saw himself being pushed backward toward the bed, ending up flat on his back on the mattress, his shoes touching the ground.

“You seem surprised, baby,” she chortled at his astonished being, dropping down to her knees in between his legs, nudging his thighs a bit wider to get as close to the edge of the bed as possible.

That pet name almost made him whine.

Slowly, eyes locked together, she drew her hands up his thighs until her fingers reach the bulge in his pants and pull his hardened cock free from his pants and boxer.

“Oh, fuck!” he grunted, dropping back on the bed and gripping the sheets when she slid her hand up and down his length.

She swiped her thumb over the swollen head, picking up the leaking precum and tracing the tip of her thumb around the tiny opening, before she parted her lips and took him slowly into her mouth.

He shuddered and inhaled sharply when she began to bob her head, her tongue swirling and working him at a painful, slow pace.

She was torturing him, sending him through the ecstatic thrill of the oncoming orgasm with her tongue and moans vibrating against him and then depriving him of it by excruciatingly slowing her rhythm.

He loved it. He loved it so much that it surprised him.

“Oh, please, please-“ He tugged at her hair, his head spinning and body tensing, desperate for his release.

She pulled off his cock with a pop and he whimpered at another one of his failed relief.

Oh, his pleas were such a turn on, and now, with his half-lidded and pleading eyes glistening with a craving that wanted to be satiated, he was so adorable.

She had not expected to have this Jimin before her, at her mercy, but she loved it.

She flashed him a mischievous grin as she stripped off her dress and tossed it to the side, her bra and panties next, and his breath hitching at the sight of her completely naked.

“What’s the matter, baby? Why that look? Mmh?” she taunted, helping him take off his pants and underwear. “You just found out that you like it when I take charge, didn't you?” She set her legs on the bed, moving forward to straddle him and get rid of his turtleneck. She didn’t get a response and this made her grip his hair, lifting his head to meet his eyes, causing a wail to escape his lips. “Answer me,” she growled, teasing the tip of his cock with her thumb, making him whimper again.

“Yes, yes- I- I- love it so much I-“ he cut himself off with a hitched gasp as she put the head first then let her folds run up and down his length, a sinful moan escaping her lips.

“Don’t worry, I’m on pills.”

She kissed him and he nipped at her lip as he placed one hand on her back to bring her closer while the other cupped one of her breasts, playing with her hard nipple before placing his lips on it and licking it sensually.

She threw her head back, bouncing on him and clenching tight and hot around him, eyes closed and fingers playing with his fox ears, an overwhelming feeling invading their senses.

Jimin looked at her with his eyes half closed, his mind invaded only by the image of her even now.

Her touch on his burning skin, her body heat warming his body as the mere closeness made his heart burst with glee, feeling her in every way.

He felt her fingers slide through his hair, grabbing it and giving him another of her mischievous sneers, their breaths mingling together.

“So hard and ready…” she teased, pulling at his hair even more as she giggled near his ear and this had his eyes rolling at the back of his head. “Are you so eager to fuck me, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I want to fuck you so bad, I- I want to-“

His lips found the skin of her neck, licking it before taking a deep breath of her scent. The same scent that was now awakening his hybrid instincts.

To mark her. Make her his. Make everyone know she was his mate. Make her know she was his.

He growled, pressing his tongue to the crook of her neck and when he sensed they were close, he sank his teeth into her neck.

She let out a scream of pleasure in a blend of pain at the sting she felt, tightening her grip on his hair as he moaned loudly against her neck, their bodies tensing before relaxing against each other, his forehead resting against her shoulder.

When they both came down, Eunmi moved slightly away from him to touch the wounded part, letting out a hiss at the contact. After some liquid found the tips of her fingers, she glanced at what it was, surprised to see blood, her own.

She shifted her attention to Jimin, who just before hearing her hiss was still immersed in that intense moment and now had a pale face and wide eyes, fear filling them.

“Oh, God- I’m- I’m sorry! I’m- I didn’t want to-“ he stammered, his trembling hands seeming to want to touch that spot but pulling back at the very last. His eyes darted from her face to her neck over and over again, panic taking over him. “I’m so sorry! Please, please- It wasn’t-“

“Hey, hey! Look at me!” her voice was gentle while she cupped his face with both hands, noticing his puppy-like eyes filled with unfallen tears. “Breathe, slowly, and tell me what happened.”

He did as told, looking at the two red dots adorning her neck, “I… marked you. I…” he gulped, heart constricting with guilt. “It’s... one whiff of your scent is enough to send me over the edge. My senses are always on high alert. I'm drawn to you and can't tear myself away. Because…” he sighed, “you’re my mate.”

She was caught off guard. It was totally unexpected. She was aware of their chemistry, the sexual tension – shit, she didn’t even know how they hadn’t had sex before for how blatant it was!

But from this to say she was his mate? Her?

She knew that a hybrid was capable of controlling themselves in the presence of their mate, but there was a limit to it and if it was crossed over it was difficult to turn back. The mark strengthened the bond, adding more hardship to it. A hybrid could also go bersek if someone or their mate themselves attempted to break it.

“I didn’t want it to end like this. I wanted to tell you everything first. But maybe I messed up with my jealousy and- I’m sorry- I’m- “ he sobbed and she bit her bottom lip, feeling her heart clench.

How could she hurt him? How could she refuse? He was not his fault. His mate was in front of him, someone that not eveyone of his race had.

She stroked the skin of his cheek with her thumb while the fingers of her other hand gently brushed against one of his ears, a gentle smile forming on her lips, “It’s ok, Jimin. You did nothing wrong.”

“You mean…” he trailed off, unsure if what she wanted to say was what he thought.

Her smile widened, resting her forehead against his after placing her lips on his for a tender kiss, “Yeah, we can make this work.”

Jimin couldn’t believe his ears, which now twitched after hearing her answer, and pulled her in for a tight hug. His tongue ran over the mark to get rid of the trails of blood and soothe the pain caused by the bite and he nestled his face into the nape of her neck, pulse quickening with an euphoric energy.

Eunmi rubbed his back, with him still inside her, not pulling away. Another way of reassuring him.

And this was all he needed, grinning from ear to ear, the tears forgotten.

Their connection was more than just mates, it did not stop at simply becoming one. It was far more than that, they were above that. Deeper and more unconditional than she thought. Like the main characters in their drama.

Being an actor had advantages.

Indeed.

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