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gh0styyt0astyy · 3 years

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"You can hide from me forever~?" .. emm.. maybe you can do this we hank?(lee hank if it is ok?) No presure

✨ [Run and hide] ✨

( anon. anon *holds ur shoulders* i loved this prompt thank you )

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⭐️ [Summary] — If you asked Hank how he got into this situation, he’d much rather die than say anything. (Lee!Hank and Ler!Deimos + Ler!Sanford)

fellas is it gay to platonically cuddle your homies after they absolutely wreck your shit

key: deimos hank sanford

⭐️ [Warnings] — TICKLE FIC; MILD LANGUAGE; AND CUDDLING AT THE END; if you don’t like then please just scroll on T_T

⭐️ [Prompt(s)]: “You can’t hide from me forever!”

✨ Enjoy ! ✨

— — — —

“Haaaaaank!” Deimos’ gruff voice echoed down a hall; a quiet snicker in his tone as he looked for the merc. Hank, who was currently staked out in a dark room (had the rooms always been this dark? How’d he never notice this?), held his breath.

Putting a hand on the doorframe, Hank leaned out slightly and stared into Deimos’ back.

The shorter guy seemed to be too busy with looking in the complete wrong direction that Hank started calculating his options. Hank had been stalking around this shitty “apartment” that he, Dei and Sanford all called home (Temporary home at least. It’s hard to keep a stable base of operation in this shitty, genocidal state okay?) for at least an hour now. Deimos wanted something from Hank; and whatever game Deimos was playing the taller man didn’t want any partake in it.

“Cmon, Haaank. You can’t hide from me forever now!” Deimos called out again, but beginning to turn around now. Shit. Hank quickly darted into a different room, one with a little more light. At least he could see now.

…However he failed to realize that Deimos could see the faint outline of a shadow, which is ironic really; seeing as how Hank; a 6’6 man can fit inside a tiny crate with no one noticing, yet he forgets to cover his tracks of a shadow.

Deimos’ footsteps came closer to the room Hank sheltered in, and Hank started to crawl backwards to the closet. ‘Shit- shit- shit.’ Hank opened the closet door and quickly stepped inside. Deimos suddenly leapt into the room, a sound of vague disappointment rumbling in his throat. “Damn.”

Hank felt a very light breath leave his chest as he slowly slid down the wall. Maybe Deimos had finally given up his chase. As Hank waited for Deimos to leave the room, he listened to the quieting footsteps. The goggled man silently opened the closet door and looked out, spotting no sign of Deimos. He began to slowly step out of it.

His legs were quickly and suddenly swiped out from under him, causing him to land roughly on his chest with a solid “oof” and a wheeze when something plopped heavily onto his back. “There you are!” Hank could hear the grin in Deimos’ voice.

“Uagh- get off of me you lug.” Hank grunted, reaching back and swatting at one of Deimos’ knees. “Hank, you’re good at hiding, know that? Had me in circles for an hour! You ever play hide and seek when you were a kid?”

Hank was having none of it as he continued to swat and push at Deimos. (Sure the man was significantly shorter than him, but damn; bitch could put some weight when he wanted.) Deimos hummed as he put his head in a hand. “Okay well obviously you wanna move on. So let’s do that! While we’re at it…” A different hand went down to between Hank’s shoulder blades, causing the merc to tense. “Let’s chat! You remember how you crushed my cigs a bit ago?”

Hank did remember that.

“Aaand how you spilled water on me for no reason?”

Hank remembered that too. (And, also Deimos, for your information; it was not for no reason you will NOT burn down another temp home.)

“Oooh or- or how about the time you threw that huge ass centipede at me? Remember that one?”

…Hank remembered that one, as well. Very vividly, might he add.

Hank nodded and Deimos did too. “Yeah. I remember all those too. Especially that last one you asshole.” Hank shrugged. “I mean, it was a little amusing.” Deimos feigned hurt as he put a hand to his chest. “You wound me, Wimbleton.”

Hank started to get antsy now, as he shifted underneath Deimos’ weight. “Will you get off me? Or are you just going to keep me here.” Deimos grinned again. “Antsy, Hanky? Daw okay. I guess I can get on with it.”

“It?” What the hell was “it?” Hank narrowed his eyes under his goggles and when he tried to look back at Deimos three fingers suddenly dug into the soft area between Hank’s shoulders. Oh. Oh that was it. Hank felt his eyes suddenly shoot open as he fell completely limp to the floor, electricity running up his back. His body shuddered with repressed… laughter? Noises. “Deimos—“ Hank spoke through gritted teeth, feeling lucky for the mask covering his betraying face. “Hank.” Deimos answered back. Hank felt himself trying to writhe away from Deimos to no avail. “Shihit.” He hissed, mentally cursing himself.

“Ahha! That’s the response I’m looking for!” Deimos said, taking his other hand and tapping against Hank’s ribs. Making the downed man make a strangled noise into the crook of his elbow. “Pihihihiss ohohoff-!” Hank growled, tried to growl. It was hard to be intimidating with fingers wiggling on your ribs and your back. Deimos was slow, methodical for a moment… before the hand on Hank’s back went from slowly moving to clawing at his shoulder blades. “SHIHIHIT! Deihihihimos you sohohon of a—!” Hank suddenly erupted; Deimos letting out a victorious and satisfied laugh. “Right here is bad? Damn, and I’ve only just started!” Hank tried thrashing his shoulders to get away from Deimos’ hands.

Deimos snickered mischievously, repositioning himself on top of Hank and sitting on his waist instead. “Y’know what Hank? This is super interesting,” Deimos said, one hand continuing to torture Hank’s shoulder blades as the other hand trailed back and forth from his ribs and his sides. “You’re, like, Nevada’s most dangerous Mercenary. And yet I haven’t even been thrown into a wall!” Deimos added, grinning at Hank’s misfortune as the man went limp again. “I hahahahate yohohou—“ Hank hissed through gritted laughter. “Have you even tried getting me off?” Deimos ignored Hank’s previous statement. As Hank began to lift himself with his elbows, Deimos’ hand suddenly shot underneath him and started prodding at his stomach. “YOHOHOHOU BIHIHIHIHITCH!” Hank fell back down.

That’s when a quiet *ahem* and knock on the doorframe made both the men look up. Sanford stood there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and an amused look. “Dei, what are you doing to Hank?” He asked, and Hank felt Deimos’ hands slow down until they came to stop. Deimos snickered evily and put a knee on Hank’s back to keep him down. Hank didn’t like that, didn’t trust that evil giggle from Deimos— so he began trying to escape. “San, y’know what I found out?”

Oh shit. He wouldn’t. “What’d you find out, bud?” Deimos you’d better not. “Did you know that Nevada’s most wanted, dangerous Mercenary is ticklish?” That son of a bitch. “Oh, really now?” Goddamnit.

Sanford was waved over by Deimos, and the two started whispering to each other. Hank tried to listen in but to no avail. Suddenly the weight on his back was lifted and Hank tried to shoot away quickly.

But he was grabbed around the waist and pulled back into a heavy chest. Sanford’s arms held onto him tightly as they went back to the floor, except now Hank was sitting up. (Which was better, actually, because being sprawled on the floor like that really isn’t comfortable.) Sanford’s arms were hooked under his, crossed tightly against his chest and keeping him in place.

Deimos was sat at Hank’s legs, grinning at him with a look that could only mean chaos.

“I swear to God.” Hank rumbled, pushing against his captors. Deimos gave an evil chuckle as his hands curled into claws. “Deimos I’m warning you.” Hank pushed at Deimos with his foot, neither of them really acknowledging the now dirty shoe print on Deimos’ jacket. “One.” Deimos said.

…Excuse him?

“Two.” Sanford’s low voice followed.

Hank started wriggling in Sanford’s arms with a little more strength.

…

“THREE!” Suddenly both the men yelled— and Hank lost his shit. Deimos’ clawed hands tasering into Hank’s ribs and Sanford’s kneading into his hips. “OHOHOHOH MY GOHOHOD! YOU AHAHAHASSHOHOHOHOLES!” Hank suddenly shrieked in laughter. (It was so much louder than his voice, louder than his usual tone. It surprised all of them and Hank wasn’t sure if he liked the volume coming from himself.) Hank writhed in Sanford’s arms as he fought against himself. “Holy shit! Dei, you weren’t joking!”

“I know! Hank, you’re incredibly lucky that it’s just us who know about this!”

Hank thought about the idea of someone else finding out about…this. Whatever “this” was. Hank wanted to say something but all he could get out was that loud, wheezy laughter. And eventually he stopped trying to fight it, he went limp in Sanford’s hold and gave in. “SHIHIHIHIT! I’m gOHOHNNA KIHIHILL YOU TWHOHOHO!” You know, it’s really hard to be threatening when you’re being undone. His nerves felt like they were being electrocuted and were on fire, Hank’s legs kicked slightly. “GOHOHOD DAHAHAHMN IT! MOHOHOHOVE YOUR HAHAHAHANDS!”

Suddenly it stopped— Deimos’ hands stopped at least. Sanford’s were at his ribs now, poking and prodding between each bone. Hank screwed his eyes shut; Sanford’s hands were so slow and methodical it was driving Hank up the wall. Hank’s face was warm, completely undone to giggling. It was embarrassing.

“San, you wanna know something else?” “Deimohohos.” “Hit me, Dei.” “You behehtter nohohot!” “Hank’s scars are way more ticklish than the rest of him.” “You bihihihitch!”

That bastard. “Reaaaally now?” Sanford’s voice was low again, close to Hank’s neck. Deimos nodded. “Yuh uh.” Hank tried to squirm out again. “I hahahate you!” He listened as Deimos drew in a big, deep breath and felt as his shirt was lifted. (He knew today was a bad day to go without his jacket.) “Deheheheimos I swear to Gohohohod!”

Hank had literally no time to process anything before—

PBBBFFFTRRTTTT!

“OH SHIHIHIHIT! SHIHIHIHIT SHIHIHIT SHIHIT!” Hank squealed, he squealed. (Hank never wanted to die on the spot more than in that moment. Do you think that he could find Jeb or Tricky or someone to strike him down after this?)

Deimos had raspberried Hank’s stomach— against a huge ass scar that went from his left hip, over top and across his navel and to the right side of his ribs.

And Sanford had started blowing smaller raspberries against Hank’s neck, again, on the scars that went across it.

Hank literally felt like he was about to die in that moment. “OKAHAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHY I YEHEHEHEHILD! I YEHEHILD! I’M GONNAHAHAHA DIHEHEHEHE! STOAHAHAHAHAP!” Hank gasped, writhing and kicking his legs. And it was like that, the sensations just stopped. Phantom feelings buzzing through his body and against his skin. “Ohohoh my gohohd.” Hank breathed, his body somehow going limper against Sanford’s. Deimos grinned and Sanford laughed lightly. Hank felt Deimos press against his chest and a light squeeze of a hug from Sanford.

Hank panted lightly, cursing the two mentally. Deimos just grinned up at Hank. “Sooo. I think San and I win!” Sanford hummed in agreement as he nodded grinning too as he bonked his head against the back of Hank’s. “Somehow that went way better than I had expected it to go.”

“You two better sleep with one eye open tonight.” Hank threatened, feeling his body physically relax against Sanford and Deimos. “Yeah yeah, whatever you say.”

#ghosty.replies #ghosty.keysmash #writing #tickle fic #sfw tickle fic #mc tickling #lee!hank #ler!deimos #ler!sanford

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feliix · 4 years

Text

Patio Penetration ✦ PJM (18+)

✦ Pairing: Jimin x Reader ✦ Word count: 2k ✦ Rating: M

✦ Genre: Smut, Romance, Fluff(ish), Established Relationship!AU ✦ Warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, explicit sex, creampie, fingering, teasing, dirty talk(?), Jimin has a big dick, like no foreplay, semi-public sex (maybe?), dom/sub themes (dom!jimin),a tiny bit of begging ✦ Summary: you burn your tongue on some takeout food and Jimin kisses it better

✦ Requested by @hobiance “time to unleash all of the requests ive been wanting to send u but didnt know i could heheheheh okay lets get this started. JIMIN + WINE.” and this anon “Hello!! I saw the drabble and thought maybe I could request from one of my favorite writers? 🥺 Could I have wine with our Jiminie? Maybe something about dates too 👉👈”

✦ A/N: Posting this at 3am because I have 0 self control and because Lainey told me to. also not edited bc its 3am and I’m nothing if not a mess ✦ Written for the BHQ Drinks and Drabbles game hosted by @bangtan-dreamland

It was a Saturday, and that meant it was date night. Tonight, Jimin had decided to pick up some takeout on his way home to have a little make-shift picnic on your patio. It wasn’t all that fancy, but it was intimate and it was special – just the way you like it.

Unfortunately, on Jimin’s venture home from the shop the food had become a little too cold for your liking. So naturally, you just threw what you could in the microwave for a minute or so and it was good as new.

Hot steam wafts off of your noodles and into the air, but that doesn’t stop you from digging in. Patience was a virtue, but it was not a virtue that you had ever learned.

Right on impact the hot noodles burned your mouth. Your immediate reaction is to suck air in through your teeth, attempting to cool down the temperature and relieve some of the pain from your burning tongue. An agitated groan leaves your mouth as you find the strength to chew and swallow your food – wincing from the burning feeling that was destroying your tastebuds.

Jimin glances in your direction, his eyes full of concern as his eyebrows quickly raise. By instinct he grabs the water placed beside you and hands you the glass. Graciously, you take it from his hand, chugging the ice cold liquid to soothe the blistering sensation garnering your mouth.

“Ow,” is the only word that you can muster out as you finish swishing the water around your mouth, momentarily easing the pain. With a deep sigh, Jimin raises from his seat, walking around the table to stand over you.

“Let me see,” he says, hand reaching for your chin to lift your head in his direction. As you tilt your head back you stick out your tongue for his viewing, the light chill of the air slightly easing the pain. He analyzes it closely, eyes narrowing in concentration as he looks at the affected area.

Sun still shining brightly onto your patio, you close your eyes. Once again you forgot to put on sunglasses before coming outside, big mistake. And then you feel it. His hot breath fanning over your face as he inches closer and closer. Your natural reaction to him being this close to you is to get turned on. How could you help yourself? He was just that attractive – even if he was just trying to be sweet and check your tongue for burns.

But you underestimate how sweet his intentions actually are. Or maybe they are, and the soft yet savory kiss that he leaves on your tongue was meant to be a sign of care. It could have been nothing more than just a nice gesture, but the arousal beginning to pool in your panties said otherwise.

You suck in a quick gust of air promptly in reaction to his plump lips meeting your tongue once again; you know this is no longer a gesture filled with good intentions. Snapping your head back into place, you meet his lust filled gaze. His eyes are narrowed and his tongue runs across his bottom lip enticingly. He’s taking in every inch of your body as he looks you up and down, and your stomach flips at the thought of him having you right here.

In an instance you are looping your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer to you. When your lips meet his you feel a rush of relief, the heat traveling through your veins and to your core awakening as his hands begin roaming your body. His fingers trace the hem of your top, lifting it swiftly while breaking your heated kiss to remove the garment. The light breeze brushes against your now bare stomach, small goosebumps rising to the surface as you connect your lips with his once more.

“Here?” You ask in a whisper, your foreheads pressed together as your gaze turns downward to his crotch. Just as you suspected – he was already growing hard.

A mumbled “yes” was Jimin’s only response – well that and ripping your pants off your body so fast that you almost fell off the chair you were seated on. “Flip over,” he says as his hand meets the small of your back, guiding you to stand up. Hands placed down on the chair you were just sitting in, you bend at the waist, ass pointed in his direction as he fumbles with the buckle of his jeans.

Your heart raced as you waited for him to make a move. Desire was growing high and arousal was dripping down your thighs. Of course, this didn’t go without Jimin noticing. His hand parted between your legs, grazing its way up your thighs as he made his way to your entrance. The last thing on your mind was the lingering burning sensation on your tongue.

“Already so wet for me,” you shiver at his words as his fingers circle your entrance. All you could focus on was his erect member rubbing at your ass as the pads of his fingers smeared the wetness along your slit. As a digit brushes past your clit you instinctively wince, so sensitive to his touch it was becoming difficult to control your body. A high pitched moan leaves your throat as he begins rolling your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly, making you keen over in pleasure.

His fingers trace the extent of your slit back until they meet your entrance once more. Swiftly, his fingers dip into the arousal pooling out of your core. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. The slow movement of just one finger plunging into your depths taking your breath away in an instant.

As arousal drenched his fingertips butterflies erupt in your tummy. It was getting harder and harder for your legs to support you and your arms were wobbly and unstable. “I can’t hold out much longer,” you say between breaths , doing everything in your power not to lose control right then and there.

“Not yet,” he orders, an arm wrapping around your stomach to stabilize you as he hovered over your shaking body. With this new position you could feel his tip poking against your entrance, teasing you. And with that was the tip of the iceberg. Clamping your thighs together, Jimin’s hand became immobile; trapped between your legs and no longer able to tease you.

“Jimin if you don’t stop I’m going to cum,” you choke out, tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes from holding back your much needed release. With a sneer like laugh he retracts his hand, leaving a quick slap to your ass cheek on his way back. Your muscles tighten one again, the knot in your stomach slowly starting to dwindle as he takes his member in his hand.

Jimin slowly begins pumping his shaft, making sure to gather the precum at his tip and coat his member in a beautiful mixture of the both of your juices. Your legs remain clenched together as you try to suppress the desire flooding your system. All you wanted was him to fuck you right here and now, and you were in no mood to beg tonight.

Leaning slightly forward onto your elbows, you arched your back lower, lifting your ass higher to try and get his attention. He was taking far too long and focusing on catching your breath was more important than asking for what you wanted at this point. What better way to tell him to fuck you already than to rock your hips back, causing the tip of his cock to rest against your ass?

“Use your words, Princess,” a smirk grows onto his face as he takes notice of what you’re trying to do. An agitated whine soon leaves your mouth. You were too tired to beg, and he had already wound you up enough.

“Jimin please,” you moan, “please just fuck me already.” Leg bouncing impatiently as you wait for him, he finally lines himself up at your entrance. A steep gasp passes through your lips as his cock slides itself into you; your velvety walls squeeze the veiny ridges of his member as you take him in.

A string of curses leaves his mouth as his shaft slides into your cunt. The arousal spilling from your hole coating his cock as you clench around him. Jimin’s hands find their place on your hips, holding you steady as you adjust to his size. Even after all this time together, every time you have sex feels like the first. Maybe it was cliché to think so, but acclimating to his size would never be easy.

It was comfortable. Even though you were on your back patio where your neighbors could see you at any moment, the setting was beautiful and everything in this moment was perfect. The sun was just beginning to set and the passing breeze chilled the perspiration beginning to gather on your skin. You’ve never felt better than you do in this moment – speared on your boyfriend’s cock while you waited for your food to cool.

As Jimin began thrusting in and out of you, your hands took grip on the sides of the chair, holding on for dear life knowing what was in store. His movements were beginning to quicken rapidly, the sounds of his skin colliding with yours and the deep moans echoing from his throat filling your ears. Your chest heaves deeper and heavier with each of his movements, soft whines bubbling past your lips as he meets new places within your core.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he groans, teeth clenching as you squeeze tightly around him. The familiar knot in your stomach was making its way back to you. The repetitive tap of Jimin’s tip deep inside you had you too far gone. With one powerful thrust, you were coming undone around him. Your legs soon begin to crumble underneath you before his arms wrap around you to catch you from falling.

A gentle scream escapes your mouth as you ride out your high, Jimin’s pace only quickening to chase his own. The familiar tingling sensation begins to rush through your veins as oversensitivity starts to set in. When your eyes slam shut all you can see are stars, small white blotches blinding your vision as your pussy continues to spasm around him.

You aren't even able to catch your breath as your orgasm begins to subside. Jimin is too busy pounding into you, his hips meeting your ass with a slap as he bottoms out.

“Don’t pull out,” you say quietly. All that's on your mind is being filled to the brim with Jimin’s cum. You’re aching for his release, squeezing your core as hard as you can to ease it from him. The grip he holds on your waist tightens, his face scrunching as he focuses on chasing his high, “want you to fill me up.”

And with that, he was. Collapsing over you, he held you close as he reached his high. His heavy breathing fanned over the back of your neck, your shirt sticking to your back as beads of perspiration soiled the fabric.

“Love you,” he whispers in your ear, kissing just below it. You can feel the rise of his cheeks against your skin as he smiles. It was comfortable here, with him like this. Almost too comfortable for having sex out in the open like this, but it was past the point of caring as he held you tight in his arms.

“Love you more,” you whisper back as a grin stretches wide across your face.

“I think we might have to heat up the food again,” he chuckles before pulling out of you to look at the food placed neatly on the table.

“I’ll make sure I wait for it to cool down this time,” you giggle as you stand upright, legs still feeling jello-like as you search for your pants.

“I can think of something to do while we wait for it to cool,” Jimin smirks as you turn in his direction. His eyebrows are lifted suggestively, winking at you when you make eye contact. “Round two?”

#ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #bhqdrabbles #kpopuniversenet #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #jimin x reader #jimin pwp #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin fanfiction #bts fanfction #jimin one shot

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sol-tinyrayofsun · 4 years

Text

Zutara Week Day 2 - Counterpart: Complementary Parenting

Title: Complementary Parenting

Rating: G

Summary: It’s a rainy Sunday at the Royal Palace, and baby Kya tends to get bored during these days. Much to her delight, Katara and Zuko decide to see which one of them can entertain their daughter the most.

---------

The rain pitter-pattered on the Royal Palace’s rooftop. The sound of the raindrops was muffled by soft giggling.

“Someone’s bored, huh?” Katara asked, putting down the book she was reading.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Zuko replied, holding baby Kya in his arms. “She definitely wants to go outside. I don’t think we can keep her entertained for much longer.”

The Fire Lady got up from the loveseat she had been resting on. She headed to the bed where the other two were playing.

Sundays were the quieter days for the pair of first-time parents. Between running an entire Nation and dealing with South Pole´s businesses, raising a little one took up most of their time. They loved it that way, making sure their girl got all the attention she deserved. Weekends were almost exclusively reserved for her. Kya adored spending most of her afternoons by the turtleduck pond. But rainy days meant staying inside for at least a while. And the tiny princess wasn't exactly a fan of it.

Sitting down next to her husband and their daughter, Katara softly poked the little girl’s nose.

“You just wanted mommy’s attention, didn’t you?”

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Kya giggled some more.

“Hey!” The Fire Lord exclaimed. “She’s having the time of her life with me.”

“I know, I know, I’m just teasing you,” she said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

Zuko gifted her a tender smile in return. “How was your reading session?” he asked.

“Good, but I was already missing you two.”

He held Kya as he glided her through the air, her soft laughter brightening up the entire room. “Well, I think it’s safe to say we’ve both missed you too.”

“You know, for a future waterbender, she doesn’t seem to love the rain that much.”

“Keep dreaming about it,” Zuko laughed. “This little troublemaker has ‘firebender’ written all over.”

Katara gently took the baby from his arms, giving her a warm hug. Kya was smiling from ear to ear, clearly loving the way her parents bickered for her attention.

“You know Sokka is almost rooting for her to be a non-bender, right? He wants to get his chance to teach her how to use a boomerang, fan, and sword.”

“I’m not surprised, he and Suki are the coolest yet craziest uncles ever. But trust me, my gut says she’ll be one unstoppable firebender. Look at her cute little fiery eyes.”

“Mmm, we’ll see about that,” Katara replied. “I can’t believe her first birthday is only about a month and a half away.”

“She’s grown too fast. Don’t even get me started on what my mom and Kiyi have already planned for the party.”

“We shouldn’t sleep on the invitations, by the way, I’m sure Suki and Sokka would love to choose their greatest outfits in advance.”

“Oh, Agni. Wait until Azula realizes Kiyi was looking forward to getting matching dresses with her. That should be fun to watch.”

Little Kya seemed to have her own ideas for the birthday party, as she interrupted them with some opinionated babbling.

“Alright, alright, sweetie, we hear you,” Katara said. “We know you’re bored inside.”

“See? She had us both right here and still complains,” Zuko remarked with a playful smirk.

“You know, I think I might have an idea.” She put the girl back into her father’s arms.

Zuko simply smiled, a curious frown framing his face as he held his daughter.

“Look, Kya, check out what mommy can do,” Katara said as she bent a tad of water out of the glass that rested on her nightstand.

The little girl’s eyes widened as she watched her mom form a tiny water heart in the air, only to disassemble it and have the stream of liquid do a full circle around her before going back to its place. Kya even clapped a bit, giggling and extending her hands to Katara. Her mother took her back into her arms, giving her a little bunny kiss.

“Well, that seemed to entertain her enough,” Zuko cheered. “Though it’s not fair, you know I can’t just firebend around like that.”

“I sense some jealousy there, Kya. Daddy’s afraid I’m going to be your absolute favorite after today.”

The princess mumbled in response, trying to get her hands into her mother’s hair loops. They were one of her favorite things to hold into her little fingers. Always catching her attention and causing Katara to try and convince her to please give her poor hair a break.

“Oh, come on! You know I’m her favorite,” Zuko complained, chuckling. “Let’s see what I can do.”

“Heard that, Kya? I’ve got a competition now!” Katara laughed, sitting the baby on her lap. “Come on, darling, your ladies are waiting.”

“Alright, don’t you two get your hopes too up. It’s going to be the simplest trick in history,” Zuko said as he grabbed a nearby candle.

He held it in his hands, standing up at a cautious distance from the girls. When they were both looking, he put off the flame only to ignite it again a couple of seconds later. He repeated the move a few times, calling Kya’s attention.

“Princess, look here!” he exclaimed. “Where’s the flame? Did it disappear? Nop! Here it is!”

Their daughter just kept giggling, eyes wide open as she watched the flame come and go, softly clapping from her mom’s lap. Zuko wore a bright grin on his face, Kya was his ultimate weak spot. Well, along with his wife, of course. He couldn’t be happier with the little family they had forged together.

“Your trick wasn’t so bad!” Katara exclaimed once he was finished. “My water heart was just a million times cuter, that’s all.”

“And here I was, thinking you loved me,” Zuko raised a brow. “Oh, what a fool.”

“Shut up, you know I do.” Katara rolled her eyes as she made a playful smile.

“Kya, please know your father does love your mom. It’s not my fault she doesn’t feel the same way,” he joked as he kneeled onto the bed, leaning onto his elbows to stick his tongue out to his wife.

“Oh Agni, what has fatherhood done to this man?” Katara swooned. “I love you, silly.”

Making sure to have Kya firmly secured into her arms, she leaned up to him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. The two young parents maintained eye contact for a tender moment after it. Everything about the gesture was utterly affectionate.

“I love you too,” Zuko replied. “That’s much better, I think I even have the strength to outdo you with one final trick,” he said as he got back on his feet.

“And the Fire Lord strikes again!” Katara laughed.

He took a couple of extra steps back before igniting a tiny flame on one of his hands. Smirking, he did the same thing on the other. Then, he started juggling the two flames, adding a third one once he felt more confident. Kya’s eyes reflected the light from the small flames as she cheered on her dad with some graceful babbling.

“Wow, wow, getting competitive, huh?” The Fire Lady teased.

With a simple wrist movement, she redirected the water from the glass to put out the flames Zuko was juggling with.

“That’s cheating,” he complained, plummeting to the bed and poking Kya’s nose. “Come here, princess, give your poor dad some love.”

The little girl answered with some loud giggling, eager to nestle into her father’s arms.

“Alright, I think I know how to settle this once and for all,” Katara stated, giving Zuko a pinch on his cheek. “I’ll have to warn you, though, I’m definitely winning this funny little contest we’ve got going on.”

“Katara, sometimes I do wonder which one of us is more competitive,” he said as he made a sarcastic smirk.

“Both. I think both is your best bet,” she replied. “So, ready to be defeated?”

“Defeated in entertaining our infant daughter? Yeah, I think I can live with it.”

“Great, then get up. We need to be closer to the window.”

“Got that, little one?” Zuko said to Kya as he stood up, holding her in his arms. “Mommy is going to put on a show for us.”

Once the three of them were by the window, Katara opened it. The smell of rain invaded the room. It was a cloudy day outside, with the rainwater still pouring down all over the garden.

“Sweetie you pay attention to mom, alright? I´m gonna show you waterbending is the best.”

“Sh, Kya, don’t let her tricks convince you.” Zuko grinned.

Katara stuck her hands out the window, a light frown caused by her concentration made its way to her face. Smiling, she tilted her head to make the other two look outside.

It had ceased raining around them, a thousand little raindrops rested static in the air, stopped by her will.

Kya started clapping, extending her arms to point to the outside. She was loving it. Babbling, she seemed to ask if it meant they would finally go outside.

“No, no, princess,” Katara laughed, allowing the rain to keep falling back from the sky. “It’s a waterbending move, it hasn’t actually stopped raining.”

The little girl pouted at the negative, clearly eager to be able to play by the pond.

As she closed the window, Katara gave Zuko a triumphant smile.

“I won, right?” she asked.

Sitting down on the bed, with Kya back on his lap, the Fire Lord let out a soft laugh.

“You win, my lady,” he replied. “Now come here and let me hug you, you know my firebending is handy when it comes to keeping you warm. We don’t want you catching a cold, don’t we?” A playful smirk framed his face.

“Fine, if you insist,” Katara complied, cuddling in bed with the two of them. “But you know I entertained Kya the most.”

“We all know that. Stopping the rain was a dream come true for her,” he said as he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

All that bending had left the two young parents in the mood for a nap. Placing the baby princess in the middle of them, they played with her until she finally fell asleep. Once they were sure she wouldn’t wake up from the sound of the rain, they resolved to let their eyes fall heavy too. Not before sharing an exhausted yet loving look. They had succeeded at entertaining their little one.

The three of them stayed in bed for most of what remained of the stormy evening. In the end, little Kya had been the actual winner. With her parent’s efforts to amuse her with their little bending competition, spending an afternoon inside hadn’t been boring at all. It was a fact, Sundays were becoming her favorite.

------- Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little tooth-roothing piece <3

@zutaraweek

#zutara #zutara week 2020 #zutara fanfiction #zuko x katara

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mimiwrites2000 · 3 years

Text

Legends

Chapter Twelve ~

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie/ Eren x Mikasa/ Levi x Hanji (other pairings will be added as the story goes on)

Words count: 7119

* spoilers for chapter 127 and up

Summary:

an injury

a miracle

an understanding

and maybe 'everything happens for a reason' holds some truth in it, and all of it leads to that tingle of emotions with unsolvable maze that hypnotize its victims

~a story of broken hearts who are searching for a cure while mending each other’s wounds

“Annie, you know I would do anything for you, right?”

“Father…?”

“I love you, and I want you to be happy, no matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side, you know that, don’t you?”

“I… I know, but… what’s going on?” Annie knew what was going on, as her father led her further into the forest, the sun barely creeped out from behind the mountains, and it was freezing cold, Annie’s fingers were like sticks of ice that were going to snap at any moment, her legs were numb, and the suitcases they were carrying made her feet dig deeper into the dew dirt.

She tried deflating the balloon that swelled in her throat, she took deep breaths, she was aware that this was coming, she told herself that she was ready for it, and yet…

The thick trees were getting scarce, bushes and weed overthrowing them, not before long, the tangled branches no longer blocked her vision, and Annie found herself at a clearing, the stream running by it.

The place where she peaked at Armin dancing with Mikasa.

Someone was already waiting for them.

If Annie wasn’t sure that Armin was still passed out in the cottage, she would’ve wished it was him.

It was Eren, his long brown hair messy around his face, and his suit disheveled.

Annie glanced at her father, and her breath hitched in her throat when she saw tears glistening in his eyes.

“You took so long,” Eren said, crossing his arms, as he strode a few steps towards them.

“But here we are, the past doesn’t matter anymore,” Mr. Leonhart said, he tried to walk, but the cane in his hand wobbled and he almost fell, but Annie caught him; the ground closer to the stream was even wetter, cold moisture seeped into Annie’s boot, bruising her toes, freezing them until they almost fell off her feet. She could see her breath turn into a white mist right after it left her mouth.

Propping her father up, she exclaimed: “What is going on? And Eren aren’t you supposed to-”

“Annie,” Eren stopped Annie, it was only then that she realized the dark shadows framing his eyes.

Mr. Leonhart turned to Annie, clamping his hands on both of her shoulders, he looked her straight in the eyes with such intensity that made Annie want to step back, but she didn’t.

“Annie, my daughter, do you forgive me?”

“For what?”

“Answer me.”

Annie glanced at Eren; the prosaic look he wore made her hand itch to slap it off his face. She turned her eyes to her father and said: “I do.”

“You know that I love you, don’t you?”

“I do.”

Mr. Leonhart knelt down and picked up his cane, after he steadied his footing, he gestured for Eren.

Eren stepped towards Annie, she raised an eyebrow at him before she said: “Isn’t it rude to leave your wife alone at your wedding night?”

He didn’t acknowledge her comment, instead he lifted up his hand.

“Annie, I’m sorry,” he said, his fingers hovering an inch away from her forehead.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” her voice was wobbly, and she hated that. Her eyes begging Eren to be done with it.

“Goodbye.”

Eren touched her forehead.

~~~

When Armin woke up the day after the wedding, he had a head-splitting headache, he couldn’t even lift his head up the pillow, like a ball with some thick, heavy liquid inside, chaining his head down- or it wasn’t even a pillow, it was a rock-hard surface, and now that he was thinking about it, it was unbearably dreadful, and cold, and-

Why was he stretched out on the floor?

Armin looked around himself, what is this stinking smell? He got the answer soon enough when he noticed a foot dangling right above his head, Armin wrinkled his nose, pushing the foot away but retreated immediately when his fingers touched the surely-is a dripping sweat sock.

Through groans and multiple failed tries, Armin figured out a way to prop up himself on his elbows without pouring his brain out of his skull, he squinted his eyes, inspecting the room, the sun barely creeped into the place, decorations were up, glasses and liquor bottle were thrown around the floor, some shattered, their sharp splinters waiting for an unlucky foot to pierce through.

Human bodies scattered around the room, their bodies inflating then deflating like the failed attempts of a kid trying to blow up a balloon, some were snoring like an elephant, belching foul-smelling breath through their noses and their opened, drooling mouths. Someone was whistling through their nostrils.

A bolt of pain pulsated through Armin’s head, before he dropped back down on the floor, only to jolt at the sudden impact, then memories from the day before rushed into his mind, the wedding, drinking, Annie, a lot of drinking, Annie, more drinking.

These were his final thoughts before he drifted into another wave of restless, uneasy sleep.

The next time Armin opened his eyes, the sun was going down behind the mountains.

Armin covered his eyes with his elbow, not tolerating the harsh yet soft light, fighting the nausea induced by the vomit taste in his mouth, the headache was still there but he surely didn’t feel like passing out anymore.

“It’s about time you woke up, you look like shit.” Someone said from above him, Armin shifted his elbow off his eyes, just enough to see who was talking, once he saw Connie’s face, Armin dropped his elbow and closed his eyes again, “you kinda fucked up, didn’t you?”

“Connie, what are you talking about?”

“Kissing her while drunk? Dude, even I have enough brains to not do that,” Connie gulped down the rest of what might be leftover coffee, grimacing at its bitter taste.

Armin stiffened, the headache departing him for a second: “What?” his voice cracked.

“I saw you, it’s not like you were hiding, anyone could’ve seen you if they looked outside the window.”

“Oh, God,” Armin let out a shuddering breath, rubbing his forehead, are there any pain killers around?

“You don’t have to worry about her, they had already left.” Connie twirled the residual of his coffee around, he pouted when he imagined its much stronger taste on his tongue.

The headache came back at full force pounding Armin’s head, he thought his head might as well blast, and what was that about Annie leaving?

“What do you, nngh… mean, aah, she left?” Armin breathed out, as he rubbed his head and tried to sit up.

“So, she didn’t tell you? Sheesh, man, she must have been pissed at you.”

“Connie would you please stop and actually answer my, ugh… question?”

Connie snorted, not taking Armin seriously in the slightest: “She and her father, they left before the sun even was up, I’ve never seen anyone franticly pack like her father, he was steaming.”

“And you were awake and didn’t bother to wake me up?” Armin had finally managed to sit up, and he was looking around the room as if painkillers would materialize if he wished enough for them. If his head kept on thrashing like this for one more minute, he might go crazy.

“After all the drinks you had yesterday? You wouldn’t wake up even if I kick down that wall on your big head,” Connie said as he pointed with his thumb at the wall behind him, he sighed and stood up, “besides, I saved your ass from a very embarrassing confrontation.”

“Where are you going?!” Armin asked, his voice louder than he intended, sending a bang of pain through his head, he grimaced and massaged his head, trying to subside the sting.

“To get you some painkillers! Idiot,” Connie turned away from Armin and vanished into the kitchen, a few moments later, he reemerged with a cup of water and some oh God finally medicine. He silently gave them to Armin and sat again on the couch, his head dipping low.

“Whatever you’re hiding, are you planning on telling me?” Armin said before chucking the white circular tablet into his mouth, swallowing painfully.

Connie’s eyebrows rose on his forehead, he thought he was covering up really well, I did a great job, Armin is just a genius. Connie cleared his throat and said: “I can’t.”

Armin was quiet for a moment before he said: “Okay, whatever,” he plopped back down on the floor.

One

Two

Thr-

“Annie didn’t let me wake you up.”

Ah, that’s the Connie Armin knows, can’t hide a thing if his life depends on it… wait what-

“Annie did what?” Armin coughed a few times, feeling the tablet he just swallow climbing up his throat.

“She swatted my hand arm right before I shook you,” Connie said, and showed Armin the red spot on his forearm, which was forming into a muddle of blue and purple.

“Well then… I guess she really is mad at me…” Armin sighed, rubbing his forehead, maybe in a minute I’ll wake up and all of this would turn out to be a dream or something…

“What did you do to her? Did you say anything… I don’t know, offending?”

“I…” Armin ruffled his hair, noticing how it was matted with sweat, his nose accidentally got closer to his armpit, and he gagged at the pungent aroma, he needed an urgent shower, “I can’t remember anything,” Armin lied as he headed to the bathroom.

He wanted to rip off the suit of his body the moment he closed the door behind him, but he only managed to lean onto the sink, all energy drained out of him. His hands griped the edge of it so tight, he imagined crushing it into sand, flowing between his fingers. Armin squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth.

Now she was gone.

Forever.

Armin threw his head backward and groaned, he fucked up, just like Connie said, he fucked up badly, there was no better way to say it.

Armin was frustrated, he was mad at himself, at his stupidity, he couldn’t even fathom an explanation why Annie didn’t just shove him away from the beginning, from the moment he wrapped his arms around her, but now he knew the taste of her lips, the scent of her skin.

He felt her hands on his chest and her fingers in his hair, he sensed her pulse on his lips, he ran his fingers through her hair, and he tasted her tears on his lips.

Armin’s fluttered his eyes open, and he was met with his reflection in a crocked, palm-size mirror, all he could see was how horrendous he looked from the outside, and how disgusting he felt from the inside.

He shook his head and was about to take off his shirt, but he stopped when his hands felt something in its chest pocket. His fingers tremulously sought out two rings, silver, almost identical.

His own ring, and Annie’s.

Armin stared at the two circular metals on his palm, the corners of his eyes were itchy and his throat tight.

She didn’t take his ring with her, and she left her own ring with him.

Annie made it loud and clear that she didn’t want any of his memory, she desired a new life, away from this place, away from the past, and away from him.

Armin stared into the mirror once again, and saw tears streaming down his cheeks.

~~~

Three years later

It was dawn, the sun creeping from behind the trees, night creatures scurried to their hiding places under rocks and between crocks in trees trunks, the birds tweeting, hoping from a branch to another, warming up for whatever struggle this day withholds for them,

Armin was sitting on the swing, which took the majority of his small porch, but it was worth purchasing; Armin usually wakes up before sunbreak, makes a cup of coffee -this precious beverage that the outside world introduced to them, was the only catalyst to manifest enough energy to start the day- then he would admire the sun rise, slowly, as if the whole world stopped for a moment, all silent and serene, before rolling back again into its endless storm.

Armin watched the stars as they faded, and he had to remind himself that they were still there, holding up, just a larger star robbed them off their spotlight and took all the glory to itself.

He thought about what he would do during the day, attempting to schedule his remaining free hours into a useful time; it was his day off; he should probably be productive and work on a few side projects he was putting to the side for the past few months.

He tried to conjure an excuse to not work on them; maybe he should run some errands in the village, or write letters to Connie and Jean; he didn’t see them in months, last time Connie wrote to him, it was to inform him that he’s opening a small business with Niccolo. And Jean… well, he was still trying to settle on a job.

A mix of guilt and stress was growing in his stomach, he was so used to deadlines and bolting to get things done in time, to rush with tremulous hands and shaking legs from one office to the other. It was still alien for him to leisurely check off his tasks, one after the other, slowly, until all were gone, and then a new list would arrive, and he would go through it again, patiently.

No point in rushing, Armin comforted himself, he got all the time in the world.

He spent an extra hour admiring his surroundings, even though he lived here for about three years, he could never get bored of this place; there were countless, colorful birds living on the branches in the forest ahead of him, he tried once to track them down and study them, but their engraved wild nature made it impossible to catch, after all, it was used for predators hunting it down, not a mere, harmless human.

Reluctantly, Armin went inside his house.

Hanji did offer all of them mansions in the most prestigious parts of the city, to hire servants and cooks for them, to pay for any entertainment facilities they ever dreamt of, saying that ‘your efforts when you served as soldiers can never be thanked enough.’

All of them refused.

Instead, Armin, Eren and Mikasa sought a place with a serene atmosphere, some place where they can live in peace for the rest of their lives, and they found this village.

It was a new place, outside the walls, the far north of the island, its summers were scorching, and its winters were freezing, just like Shiganshina, and without hesitation they agreed that this place was exactly what they needed.

Armin’s house wasn’t big, nor was it fancy, in fact, it was in a dreadful state when he first got it, its past owner was trying to sell it for years, but it was half an hour walk from the village, and people can’t spare any extra time to get to their work, to the center of the village, where life was buzzing with people who have families waiting for them back home.

But Armin loathed noise, he hated packed places, where people are too busy to appreciate a butterfly passing by.

But here, at the outskirts of the village, closer to the forest, it was quiet, and Armin never worried about the rush hour, getting to work on time didn’t even cross his mind, or even getting enough sleep for a hard working day.

Armin got the house for half the price.

Even though everyone pictured Armin in a cabin by the ocean, Armin himself decided to live away from it, if anything, he wanted to get the jolt of happiness each time he saw the ocean, he never wanted to ever get used to it. The waves shall always make his breath catch in his throat, the cold water up until his ankles shall always send shivers down his spine.

Armin walked to the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, he was hesitant about having them disclosed; worrying about the cooking smell, grease and all, he surely didn’t want his couch smelling like fatty food, but he ended up rarely cooking anyway, so it wasn’t an issue.

He deposited his empty cup in the sink, before heading towards the stairs, its wood lighter than the rest of the place; it wasn’t here when he first moved, but he built a bedroom on what used to be the roof, this way, he had an extra room he could use as an office. Armin didn’t ascend them, but merely touched the handrail, he was making his way to where he should be longer, stretching his journey to his office as much as he could, where what he dreaded the most was waiting for him, taking a physical form in blank, pure white pages, and scraped, unfinished outlines.

He finally ran out of tasks to idle on, and there was nothing else to do but get in that office, and do the excruciating, agonizing task of all time.

Armin sat by his desk, finding interest in anything that passed across the opened window, a butterfly, a bird, a falling leaf.

The moist, dew dirt’s aroma wafted through the window, a branch from a near tree made its way through it, poking at the ceiling, Armin asked for Eren’s help to cut it off, but lately, procrastinating was Armin’s inseparable shadow.

He had been wondering the forest since he stepped into the office, avoiding to look at the page laying vacant on the desk, the pen in his hand tap-tap tapping on the hard surface of the wooden table, accidently drawing dots from where it plopped on the blank page laid in front of him, as blank as my mind.

Sometime his eyes would linger on a certain notebook on the desktop, it was the only notebook he had filled from cover to cover, his handwriting cramped in it, filling every single line. Beside it, there was a small, wooden box.

Armin knew that living alone was the best choice for him, solitary was his method of functioning, even though Eren and Mikasa suggested having a two-stories house and all can live together, but Armin refused, saying that he didn’t want to intrude on their privacy, and it didn’t help that they were a bit too “touchy” for Armin’s comfort.

It’s not like Eren and Mikasa lived far away from him, they preferred to get a house in the village, its atmosphere depicted their childhood, and they found that soothing; another sugar cube to their new life, a place that reminded them of one of their best times, a proof that they were living a new life without forgetting about their past, the past that gave them this present, and hopefully, a brighter future.

Armin would hop through the vast lands of daydreaming, a fantasy overlapping the other, and when he was confronted with reality, the empty papers within his hands, a big, long wall hindering him from getting to the next imaginary place- he would grow wings and fly over it.

Armin snapped out of his dreams when he heard knocks on the front door, he got up, wiping the drool dripping down his chin with his sleeve, at least now he would have an actual reason to not work.

“Uncle Armin!” A kid yelled, their pitchy high voice stealing the serenity of the place in a second, Armin shook his head and laughed.

At the door, stood Eren, Mikasa, and little Ymir, all beaming at Armin, and all of them holding something in their hands.

“We figured you would want some company on your day off, we hope you don’t mind.” Mikasa said in her never-changing calming voice, waving a basket in front of her.

“Of course, he wouldn’t mind, he should be grateful we brought him lunch, better than his awful cooking.” Eren stepped past Armin inside the house -Mikasa rolling her eyes in the background- Ymir following him, but not before hugging Armin, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Historia trusted her daughter with these two.

Historia would send Ymir every now and then to visit Eren and Mikasa and stay for a few days, she was so attached to Eren, and would cry and thrash in her room if she didn’t see him at least once a month.

Armin didn’t have to tell his friends to make themselves at home, he never did, they would just invade the house and do whatever they felt like doing, and it’s not like Armin minded in the slightest, as long as they didn’t step into his office.

It was already lunch time, Ymir helped Eren set the table, as Armin went into his forbidden office, to repack whatever he tried to work on.

“How’s your project going?” Mikasa asked, leaning on the door frame, her arms crossed. She already got her answer when she saw all the blank, new papers, however, one notebook caught her attention.

“Which one?”

“The book.”

“Oh… not so well,” there was no point in denying the truth from Mikasa, he couldn’t lie to her anyway, besides, she was the only person he told about all his failed projects. Armin organized his desk, even though it wasn’t exactly jumbled up, still, he put pens into a cup, and papers -mostly new and untouched- in their arranged folders and into drawers, but he kept one notebook on the desktop.

“Hey Armin, why is that notebook… different?”

“Oh…” Armin peered down at what she mentioned, it certainly was different; its cover worn out, some papers out of their place, and the pages that once used to be white turned into a brown-ish color, “nothing, I just… write more in it, I guess,” Armin took the notebook and hid it in one of the drawers.

Mikasa decided to feign belief in Armin’s feeble lie, she looked around the office from where she stood, it looked more like a small library than an office to her, shelves surrounded the four walls, bending at the weight of the myriad books on them.

The place smelled of old books and a combination of floral and apple pie fragrance Mikasa was sure didn’t come from the opened window. The crimson rug under her feet had four flattened spots from the desk’s chair. Mikasa knew that Armin spends a lot of time in his office, probably all his free time…

“I’m really glad you guys came today.” Armin said as he sorted out a pile of papers into three separate files, “it does get lonely in the forest sometimes.” He let out a breathless chuckle but bit his lip when it sounded like a pathetic wail of a wet dog.

“Our house is always open for you, and you know that.” Mikasa said as she bit her lip, taking a step into the room, she looked up, noticing the invading branch, it suited the office’s aesthetic, “but, you know that having someone here with you would make a difference-”

“Mikasa, we’ve already went through this,” Armin rolled his eyes and tried to ignore Mikasa by concentrating on the papers in his hands.

“You can’t just stay alone forever.”

“I’m fine by myself for now, and it’s not like I’m on the verge of the grave, I’m twenty-two years old.”

“Even Jean and Hitch are dating!”

Armin blinked in surprise: “When did that happen?” So Jean finally moved on from Mikasa, huh?

“Well, everyone knows they’re dating, except for them.”

Armin slapped his forehead: “They’re not even official and you guys…” he sighed, since when did people’s personal life regale others entertainment?

“One failed relationship doesn’t mean that you should stop trying,”

Armin dropped the thick files he had in his hand, and it fell right on his feet, he hissed in pain, but Mikasa ignored that as she went to read some books’ spines on the shelves, her hands clasped behind her back, making sure to not touch anything; she was aware that Armin doesn’t like guests in his office, and she already crossed that line, she trespassed into prohibited territory, she might as well be wary.

“You know who I’m talking about,” Mikasa wasn’t planning on dropping the subject.

Armin froze, a lump was forming at the back of his throat but he couldn’t swallow, he was cornered in his own place, sieged by Mikasa’s words, and he never thought Mikasa would mention her, in all the three years after the practically apocalyptic events they went through, he couldn’t recall Mikasa or Eren ever talking about-

“Sophie, I know I introduced you guys, and I don’t regret it, but you two just don’t work out with each other,” Mikasa’s fingers trespassed on an especially old book’s spine, they trailed the engraved title, what’s beyond, it said, Mikasa’s fingers were getting curious to what it could hold inside.

Armin closed his eyes, and almost choked a sigh: “That was a year and a half ago, I’ve moved on, and I’m sure she did too, and it’s not like we held any real emotions for each other-”

“But if I’m being honest, you did neglect her,” Mikasa picked the book from the shelf.

Armin hands slipped and a particular sharp edge of a paper sliced through the not-any-longer calloused skin, he did steam it in a second, but the nasty pain from a paper cut could never be topped, “It only lasted for a couple of months and both of us decided that we aren’t a match! It was mutual!” Armin stuffed the rest of his papers into one file, not caring if they were in the wrong order, he just wanted to get Mikasa out of his office as soon as possible-

Mikasa opened the book, or more like it flung open by itself on a certain page, as something metal and shiny fell off from it, landing with an unimpressive thud on the rug.

Armin reached for it, but it was too late, Mikasa was already inspecting the circular polished metal, she held it in the light, and saw a small notch on its side, she flicked it, a thorn popping from the ring, the tip ever so sharp, ready to cut into flesh.

Mikasa turned her eyes to the opened book in her other hand, the ocean, the title said at the top of the page, in cursive delicate writing, Mikasa scanned the page, at the bottom, a hand drawn picture of the ocean was fading, this book must be too old…

Armin tried to concoct a retort, but he ended up sputtering from where he was still crouched on the floor: “Th-that’s my ring! I just s-store it there!”

Mikasa put the ring back where it was, closed the book on it, and placed it back to where it was cramped with other books.

“Yeah, I know that,” Mikasa said as she side-eyed a small wooden box on the desk, where she was sure Armin’s ring laid untouched, then she turned and walked out the office.

~~~

“In a week or so, it will be the third anniversary of the end of the war.”

“Oh, is that so…”

Eren and Mikasa chatted as Armin silently listened to them, all sitting around the dining table, they were having spaghetti and meatballs for lunch, a Marleyan dish Niccolo taught them how to make, with Mikasa’s own twist and tips from when she watched Carla in the kitchen, everyone agreed that nothing can beat her recipe.

“I think they will hold a festival in the village,” Eren said before he stuffed a meat ball in his mouth.

“Fun!” Ymir chirped in, and Armin smiled; this kid did bring enormous joy to the trio, and Armin never thought that a child would change their whole lives like that.

“Yes! It’s gonna be so fun!” Mikasa said in a high pitchy voice to Ymir, who was grinning, her teeth all red from the sauce, “mama would surely let you spend it here with us.” Ymir nodded, before she was immersed again in her food.

“Armin,” Mikasa acknowledged him, he hummed, “me and Eren are going for sure, do you wanna tag along? We’re gonna have a lot of fun, I promise.”

Mikasa’s voice was soft, so soft, it reminded Armin of the summer fluffy, white clouds, and when Armin looked into her eyes, they were pleading for him to say yes.

“What do you mean?” Eren inquired, raising a confused eyebrow at Mikasa, “he won’t be here anyw- mmpph”

“What?” Armin asked.

“Never mind him,” Mikasa said, a forced grin on her face, as if she didn’t just knock the air out of Eren with her ‘playful nudge’, “so, you’re in?”

“I…” Armin wanted to say no, that he had a lot of work to do, and that he’s not in the mood to party, not to mention that there would be enough liquor for the whole village to get knocked out, and Armin was trying so hard to stay away from alcohol; he didn’t taste it in three years.

“I’ll think about it,” Armin decided to settle on a vague answer, he learnt to not give away promises like they were free postcards.

Mikasa’s lips twitched upwards in half a smile, a part of her ignoring the fact that Armin would most likely come up with an excuse to not go.

“How’s work?” Eren asked Armin, as he stuffed meatball number who-even-knows into his mouth.

“Good, I guess, less pressure, ever since I started working from the shadows.” Armin answered, even though the mouth-watering food was waiting on the plate, Armin’s fork idled at an olive on the side of the porcelain dish.

“Hanji did give you the option, yet here you are, don’t you ever think of retiring soon? I mean, me and Mikasa are pretty much living stress free-”

“I can’t just sit around, besides, I would be unemployed if I leave the military, and it’s not like creating strategies from a cabin in a forest is dangerous,” Armin repeated the answer he always replies with whenever this tirade of retirement is discussed, it worked every time and made them shut up-

“But don’t you ever consider-” Eren’s mouth was full of food, he chewed quickly and swallowed, his mouth stained with red sauce, “don’t you ever consider starting a family?”

Armin choked on air, he felt that olive stuck in his windpipe, except that he didn’t even eat it, Mikasa offered him a glass of water but he only waved her hand away and said: “Did-” a cough “the two of you” another cough “plan this?”

The shared silence told him so.

Armin got up, taking a napkin and wiping his mouth, only to realize that he didn’t eat anything: “I’m gonna go for a walk, and when I get back, I don’t wanna hear any more of this bullshit.”

The screech sound of his recently-vacant chair echoed through the room, before Armin left the house, holding himself from slamming the door behind him.

“We… went too far… didn’t we?”

Mikasa nodded, looking at little Ymir who was devouring the rest of what was left on her plate, oblivious to her surroundings.

Armin had to muster all the remaining self-restraint to not send the door flying off its hinges; they both knew that these topics ticked him off, and they went through this dialogue more times than he would care to count, but still, they insist on doing it over and over-

His raging thoughts halted in his mind as well as his feet when he was met by an unexpected guest, frozen at the bottom of the two steps leading to the porch was Connie, a suitcase on the ground beside his feet.

“H-hey, Connie, what’s up?” Armin internally slapped himself at the feeble way he greeted his friend, but electric zips were still thrashing in his mind, sending jolts to his tremulous hands.

Armin shoved his hands in his pockets and walked to Connie, and this seemed to wake Connie from whatever trance he was lost in, then, a current of words were hastily flowing out of Connie’s mouth, overlapping and incoherent, and Armin couldn’t make a single word out of it.

Worry and concern shoved anger out of Armin’s nerves, in a second, he was in front of Connie, shaking his shoulders, and that quaked his jostling words into a cohesive sentence: “Do you want to go on a walk?”

Armin was taken aback by this sudden request, they didn’t see each other in months, and Connie didn’t write to Armin that he was going to visit, he merely just popped up in front of his door.

This wasn’t like Connie.

“Sure, but do you want to go inside? Maybe rest for a bit? We were just having lunch, so the food is probably still warm,” Armin tried to ease Connie off whatever he was struggling with, to clear his mind for a minute.

“No, I don’t feel like eating, and I need to get this off my chest, thanks though.”

“Ok then, let’s go.”

Armin walked side by side with Connie, he knew a rout in the forest long enough for Connie to talk with no pressure. Even though concern was chewing at Armin’s patience, he couldn’t force Connie into saying a word, he knew his friend for so long to know not to do so.

However, Armin bit the inside of his lower lip, holding his tongue from snapping at Connie, who didn’t stop fidgeting in his place; a hand would shoot up from his pocket up to caress his short grey hair, before it rubbed his temples and hid back into his pocket, his steps were out of rhythm, one short step, the next long enough to make Connie take a small step backwards to stay beside Armin. He was playing with the skin around his fingernails, Armin glanced at them and saw how red they were, with a darker shade of brown inside the edges of them, dried blood.

Armin crossed his arms, as if this would restrain him from saying anything he would regret.

“The predators are far into the forest, don’t worry,” Armin couldn’t hold himself back from saying that, he tried to keep his voice even and unbothered; but irritation seeped into his tone because Connie kept checking behind them as if someone was following them.

Connie stopped dead in his tracks, and Armin did a small dance of joy in his mind that his friend finally decided to speak out.

“Sasha.”

Armin’s arms dropped beside him.

One word, and it made Armin know exactly what was coming up next.

“I can’t- she just- I don’t know, I thought I was over it- it’s unfair-”

“Hey hey hey,” Armin clamped Connie’s head in his hands, steering his head so he could look into his eyes; they were a light shade of a dreadful pink, “take a deep breath, and don’t pressure it, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here to listen,” Armin didn’t waver his eyes off Connie’s, his words anchored Connie down, made him stop for a second.

Armin didn’t let go of Connie until he nodded, then Armin motioned for a large, fallen tree trunk on the side, and both sat on it.

“I don’t know from where to start.”

“It’s fine, take your time.”

Connie was silent for a moment, he swallowed and rested his elbows on his knees, his back arching with the weight of words he had yet to unleash.

“She… ever since she was gone, she pops up in my sleep, but… most of the time it’s really just a dream that doesn’t make any sense,” Connie mumbled, he was apprehensive, trying to remember one of these dreams, and when he did, he jolted back, startling Armin, who sprung out his arms in his direction, thinking he choked or something, but the wide smile on Connie’s face made Armin retreat back his hands.

“Th-there was that one dream! I don’t know where I was, but I remember that I was calling her, and I was getting irritated because she didn’t answer, and suddenly, a mountain of a steamy, hot potatoes emerged from nowhere! Like from no fucking where!”

Armin nodded his head rapidly, permitting a hesitant smile on his face despite a few droplets of spit splashing his face.

“Then the mountain just split open and there she was, she was floating? I guess she was, and she held out her hand to me and said in a decent voice I’ve never heard her speak in before,” Connie puffed up his chest and held out his hand to Armin, acting out his dreams, with a thick voice he mimicked: “come with me, my dear fellow, to the land of food,” Connie broke his demeanor and was laughing so hard, birds were abandoning their spots on the trees around them.

Armin laughed alongside Connie, and he tried to look over the hint of sadness in Connie’s voice, and he didn’t persist on the small cracks interfering with his tone, his shaking fingers, or the tears glistening inside his eyes.

Connie laughs subsided gradually, and then he wiped his nose on his sleeve, his vision was getting a little blurry, but he kept going, his voice calmer and quiet: “It was like this, all along, just laughs, but for the past four months, or maybe five, all I see are nightmares, one where her neck split open, or when the bones in her body snap, or blood pour from her eyes.”

Tears were rolling freely down Connie’s cheeks, his words choked, half of them battling their way out with his tears, and Armin could barely understand what his friend was saying anymore, but one single sentence was the same as a big stone dropping down Armin’s stomach.

“No matter where I see her or how it starts, she dies each time.”

A deep part of Armin knew that this was coming, he knew a dead person usually visits the living ones’ dreams, sometime it’s just a recall of a good memory, or a comforting hug, Armin once had a dream of his grandfather hugging him and singing him to sleep, however. Sometimes these long gone people haunts your dreams and turn them into nightmares, like some sort of a reminder that they didn’t deserve dying, retelling you that they will have a long last effect on your life, some sort of a witchcraft that will trap you for as long as you keep on breathing, to the point where it makes you want to-

“I want to forget about her,” Connie let this one single sentence out, and looked straight into Armin’s eyes.

Armin was still, not moving, he just stared back into Connie’s eyes, waiting for them to blink, but they seemed to turn into an unmoving sculpture. Armin shook his head, unbelieving and agitated.

Connie wanted to forget about Sasha,

Connie wants Eren to wipe off his memory.

Armin’s heart was beating in his ears, he didn’t notice his fists tightly clutched until he felt a nail digging excruciatingly into them. He tried to speak, to let out a rational reaction, some right-headed reaction that Armin was known for all his life.

Memories, memories, memories, memories, Annie-

Pain.

“Don’t start with some noble speech about ‘letting the dead keep on living in your mind’, I can’t,” Connie kept going, his eyes veered up at the sky, “those nightmares are ruining the good memory I have of her, and I don’t want that, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Armin only watched his friend, his head up to the sky, his eyes wide open, tears gushing down his cheeks, trickling off his chin before dripping onto his open hands,

“Well, Eren and Mikasa are actually visiting me today, we should… go back and… talk.”

Connie regarded Armin as if he grew a second head, he thought that Armin would give a long ass tirade about all this memory tempering shit, it didn’t cross his mind that he would be so easy to talk to about this specific topic.

Three years ago, the day following Mikasa and Eren’s wedding, Connie found Armin in the shower, soaked wet with freezing water, hugging himself and shedding tears… silently.

After that, Armin caught a very bad cold and had to stay in bed for five days straight.

Connie was certain that this memory crossed Armin’s mind too as they walked back the same path to his house.

Each step Armin took sent dozens of electric shudders into his body, he tried to calm himself by watching the birds flying from one branch to the other, or by the sound of his and Connie’s feet scraping against the dirt, but his ears magnified the voices into deafening thuds and screeches, the veins in his forehead were throbbing

What exacerbated it was that he couldn’t hide from the guilt growing inside of him at how he snapped at his friends, he didn’t mean to, he surely didn’t and shouldn’t have, after all, they were doing that out of concern.

Even though he was pissed at them, he had to apologize, but he would save that for later, there were more pressing matters. However, when Armin and Connie reached the house, Eren and Mikasa had already left.

Armin took Connie’s suitcase and walked inside his house, but Connie tried to stop him: “You know it’s fine, I can just go straight to their house-”

“Connie you look like shit, take a break first, maybe sleep for some time, and we’ll discuss everything later.”

Connie followed Armin silently.

Armin found a plate of food wrapped in a towel waiting for him on the table, he smiled, there goes Mikasa being the mom again, but he wasn’t hungry at all.

“Hey Connie, want something to eat?” Armin said as he walked to the table.

“Uh… what do you have?”

Armin unwrapped the towel: “Spaghetti and-”

A folded paper fell from it.

Armin put down the plate and unfolded the paper, only to find out that they were two papers folded together, one was brown and looked somewhat formal, while the other had scrabbles on which Armin immediately recognized as Eren’s messy handwriting.

“Spaghetti and what?” Connie asked, but Armin didn’t answer.

The paper wrinkled underneath Armin’s grasp as his eyes scanned the content of it, his jaw tightening with every word.

#Aruani #armin arlert #annie leonhart #armin-x-annie #eremika #Eren Jaeger #Mikasa Ackerman #eren x mikasa #fanfiction #snk #aot

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kacchaneatsass · 5 years

Note

heyyy can i request bakugou, iida, tsuyu & jirou reacting to being paired with their crush for a project and they have to spend a lot of time alone together and maybe cute//nsfw stuff happens? c: also i hope youre doing well ily

Its nice to be back to all my babeys : TOP TWO ARE SFW HEADCANNONS, BOTTOM TWO ARE KINDA NOT <3 i may or may not have twisted it a little so they weren't all exactly the same, but I hope you like them anon!!!! Biiiiiig exhale lmao i spent way to long on this ish also just saying the smut kiiiinda sucks cause I haven't written smut in a whole while ALSO I APLAGIZE CAUSE I MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE ACCIDENTALLY FALLEN ASLEEP INSTEAD OF FINISHING WRITING THUS LIKE I SAID CAUSE IM A DWEEB

Tsuyu Asui

She wasn't expecting you to say YES when she invited you over to study

I mean

Not that she was complaining

And the first half hour went well! Lots of studying, flashcard making, and quizzing

And then you got bored

First it was footsies, just kicking each other playfully

And then you rolled over onto your back and laid your head in her lap and her heart nearly exploded out of her chest

Typically shes blunt, its just in her nature, but she didnt want to mess this up

She didnt know how you felt about her, and if it meant losing these little moments with you then she was fine never telling you about her feelings

When you let her card her fingers through your hair, she almost died on the spot when you slowly fell asleep

Jirō Kyoka

Yeah, it was supposed to be studying

Was any studying actually done?

Not in the slightest

As soon as you entered her room, you were already bouncing around and looking at all of her instruments

(She has a ton)

She quickly takes this as an opportunity to show off to you, and offers to teach you how to play some

Guitar is your first pick, seeing as its one of Kyoka's favorites

She loves being able to guide your fingers into place, just the gentle touches sending her heart racing

But you cant seem to get the strumming pattern down

So, without completely thinking, she wraps her legs around you and straddles your waist from behind, reaching around to move your hands

When she realizes what shes just done, she freezes, but you show no signs of discomfort and she slowly lets herself relax a little

With her left hand guiding your fingers to the strings, her right hand grasps yours and she helps you strum along correctly

You unintentionally let your body lean back into hers, your hair brushing her nose, and she melts

Does everything in her power stay like this for the rest of the night, teaching you how to play the guitar while hugging you from behind

Bakugō Katsuki

It wasn't an odd occurance to see you wandering around the dorms near Bakugou's room, books in hand and a pencil trapped between your teeth. It was common knowledge that not only were you Bakugou's significant other, but you were struggling in the grades department. As your boyfriend was the number one academic in your class, you often found yourself asking him for help, which he never rejected.

Which was why, as you again hovered near Bakugou's door at 8 at night with a stack of physics textbooks in hand, no one took the time to question it.

"Get the fuck in here, shitty girlfriend."

You didn't have time to react as the door swung open, your violent boyfriend grabbing your arm and yanking you inside, slamming the door behind you. "Hey!"

He huffed, throwing himself onto his bed, "chapter 6, section 2. Open up, we've got a long night ahead of us."

You sighed, moving to sit next to him on the bed. "You know I hate this, I just can never understand anything. It's so hard! When will we ever need physics? I'm not going to be a physicist, I'm going to be a pro hero!"

He grabbed your arm, yanking you down to lie next to him, his hand swinging across your abdomen. "Because it's important, and smart people know it. You wanna be smart, right? Smart enough to be a shitty pro hero? Then you have to learn fucking physics."

You could only roll your eyes at his vulgar language, taking the chance to cuddle into his side, suddenly aware of the heat bubbling in your stomach. "Then show me, huh? Newton's laws. Isn't one of them that if somethings in motion it stays in motion?"

He shifted to look over at you, blonde hair pressed flat to the bedspread. "Yeah, the fucking first law, dumbass. We went over this last week."

You tilted yourself forward, letting your tongue glide over your lip. "Show me the first law, then. Motion."

Katsuki grinned in response, finally catching onto your words. "Or, maybe it would be better to review his third law?"

You cocked your head, breaking concentration for a moment. "Third law?"

Quicker then you could think, he had you flipped on your back while he pinned you, a grin plastered on his pale face. "Newtons Third Law of Motion. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."

Katsuki's lips were on yours in an instant, hips grinding down against your own in an effort to create friction. Not that you particularly minded, your hands dipping around the back of his neck to pull him flush to your own body.

His lips left yours with a resounding pop, tracing butterfly kisses along your jaw and down to your neck, his body shifting to bite harshly into your shoulder. He groaned through his teeth at your yelp of pain, grinding his hips down harder.

"You like that, huh, slut?" His tounge dipped between thinned lips, lapping at the blood he had drawn, "you like when I mark you?"

You didn't have a chance to respond as his lips captured yours once more, his sweaty palms slinking under your shirt to palm at your chest, a growl bubbling deep in his throat. The gargled moan that left your throat encouraged him onwards, your hips rutting up to meet his own.

He released his hold on your lips, slipping backwards down the bed to rest at the hem of your pants, lithe fingers toying with your waistband. "Ya' like this reaction?"

A hiss escaped your lips as he, again, left you with no time to respond. He buried his face between your thighs, nose brushing your clit through the fabric of your pants, hot breaths warming the space between you. He was certainly taking his sweet time, fingertips ghosting over your thighs.

A huff escaped your lips, your patience running thin quicker then he expected. "Kat, c'mon-"

The whines that escaped you as you tried to rut against his face forced his half mast cock to full attention, pressing harshly into the matress. A snarl ripped from his lips as he yanked your pants to your ankles, giving you seconds to kick them off as he fiddled with his belt, attempting to remove his own pants.

He only got the waistband to mid-thigh before your hands were on him again, grabbing at his forearms and pulling him closer. Katsuki took no time to prepare you as he spread your legs, lining himself up before burying his throbbing cock in your heat. "Fuckin' slut, huh?" His hands travelled as his hips pistoned into you, moving to pull off your shirt, "you like my dick splittin' you don't you?"

You could only nod, gasps and mewls leaving your mouth. When a particularly rough thrust brushed your g spot, his spare hand flew to your mouth, covering it harshly.

"Shut up, we're in the fucking dorms. Don't need you moaning like a fucking porn star." The hand he was using to hold himself above you shifted, gripping at your hair as his thrusts quickened, your stifled moans growing louder as the knot in your abdomen grew and grew. Bakugou's hot breath swept across your face, thr smell of gunsmoke and burnt pine filling your senses in a way only he could. "Fuck, I'm gonna-"

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the knot in your stomach snapped, your orgasm washing over you. Katsuki followed shortly after, pulling out just to shoot ropes of cum across your chest, his eyes half lidded as he held onto his high for as long as possible.

Iida Tenya

This was one of the few times where Tenya Iida wasn't going at supersonic speed to finish the work for the project, and the simple reason as to why happened to be sitting next to him with a pencil trapped between their teeth.

You would occasionally scribble down a few more notes, your handwriting still as illegible as ever, but he found it harder and harder to take his eyes off of you. From the way you tapped your fingers on your thigh, to the way you occasionally scratched at your head, or even the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. He was absolutely enamoured, not that he would ever tell you that.

"So, should we just print the excerpts? Neither of us have great handwriting-" you paused as you looked up, catching Iida's eye and blinking widely as a deep blush spread across his face.

"T-that sounds great!"

You blinked owlishly again, staring at the class president who seemed to have suddenly developed a stutter. "Iida-kun, are you okay?"

He swallowed thickly, trying to will away both his newfound stutter as well as his ever growing blush. "I'm f-fine! Thank you for worrying!" He moved to jot down another note, managing to drop his pencil in the process. Mumbling anxiously under his breath, he moved again to try and pick it up.

The unfortunate part fell in that exact moment, as you took notice and went to grab his pencil for him. Your heads collided, the force of your elder classmate sending you to the floor. You reached for purchase, only succeeding in grabbing the collar of Iida's shirt and pulling him down on top of you, the air squeezed from your lungs under the weight of your class president.

"Y-(y/n)! My apologies, I-I-"

The goofy smile, along with your giggling made him freeze, staring down at you with wide eyes as he held himself up on his elbows. "You're such a dork." Before he properly had time to register the situation, you had tightened your hold in his collar and pulled him towards you, placing your lips on his.

He blinked widely, stayiny frozen for a moment, before he finally allowed himself to melt into your touch, returning the gentle movement of your lips on his.

When you both pulled back, eyes still closed in bliss, his breath shuddered from his throat. "I like you."

Another giggle escaped you, and he allowed himself to open his eyes. You stared up at him, eyes half lidded in a way that made him want nothing more then to capture your lips in his own again.

"I like you too, Iida-kun."

"Call me Tenya." The words came out before he could think of what to say, and then his lips were back on yours.

The jaw dropping feeling of your tongue dipping from between your teeth to poke at his own mouth had the blood in his body ghosting downwards. He, of course, obliged and let himself melt further into the kiss as he moved both of you up into a sitting position.

The tension between your bodies began to grow, one of his hands drifting down to your waist while the other wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into him. Your hands fluttered around his shoulders, fingers leaving delicate touches along his collarbone and the crook of his neck, causing him to struggle for air.

You pulled away, leaving Tenya's mouth still open while his eyes hung half lidded, the pure list radiating off of him spurring the dripping heat between your thighs. "You have condoms anywhere?"

He nodded absentmindedly, eyes drifting to where you had started to unbutton your own shirt unbeknownst to him, the sight of your cleavage making his hips buck involuntarily. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulling the silvery wrapping with him before handing it to you, obviously not sure what to do.

You took the absolute melting of his brain as a sign to not only continue, but to lead. You let your habds ghost over his chest, making quick work of his tie. Lithe fingers started popping his buttons one by one, your lips finding purchase at the newly revealed skin, tongue gliding across the toned muscles.

The small huffs of satisfaction spurred you forward, sliding his shirt from his shoulders as you moved onto his pants, removing them in due time to leave him in his boxers. He lifted his hips to let you remove them, and you followed suit by disposing of your own clothing.

Tenya stared on in awe, eyes glazed at the sight of your bare body laid out for him. His mind melted as he watched you slip the edge of the wrapper between your teeth and rip it open, taking out the rubber and sliding it down his exposed member.

The small 'fuck' that escaped his lips at the contact made you shudder, his hands moving to your shoulders as he flipped the two of you over, his knees now resting between your legs. "Are you sure this is alright?"

You said nothing, simply reaching out to draw his lips back to yours. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't."

He nodded, letting out the breath he had been holding, and shifted to position himself near your cunt. "Ready?"

Your answer came in the drifting of your hand downwards, locking with his hand to help guide him inside you. You both let out porn-worthy groans as he quickly bottomed out.

His teeth attached to your shoulder, biting through the skin before licking away the rising blood. "I hope you know, this is gonna be a long night."

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g00d1uckch4rm · 5 years

Text

Primal

Chapter 3: Beginning The Cataclysmic Revelation

Summary/Info Rated M CHAPTER WARNINGS: Body Horror (mild) and Self Exploration (semi graphic description)

Previously... Bazz had the Fanclub send Link a box of goodies, much to Link's embarrassment and horror.

Link then experiences a frightening realization that he might be gravely ill. A dangerous fever sends him back an forth into dreams of the past twisted with reality. And amongst this confusion, two strangers try to help him and his soul finally awakens.

-Only obvious key points will be summarized. There are likely moments of an Unreliable Narrator or Sneaky Foreshadowing.- ____________________________________________________

“Get out and put these on. You should be stable enough to dress yourself.” The tall woman dropped a towel with a ball of clothing at the foot of the tub. Her words were hard like her glare, these were commands not suggestions. “Then you will eat. Understood.”

Link nodded, though all he wanted to do was lie down and remain still for a few more hours. Not that the bath tub had been particularly comfortable. But he wasn’t getting any peace anytime soon.

“Speak up or have you forgotten how?”

[Not that you likely understand.] The young man’s irritation growing, this Gerudo was throwing around demands, but offering no reasonable explanation. Actually, she had thrown him around physically yesterday from the flickering memories he could recall.

“Join us in the kitchen when you’re done, don’t take long.” She had said more, but Link didn’t catch it as she left the room.

Link groaned and carefully lifted his waterlogged body from the tub, both hands and feet pruned beyond belief. It made standing and grabbing things feel weird.

Taking his time with drying off, he could already feel the warmth coming back to his chilled skin. Looking over his body he did not find any trace of the glowing marks. Had his soul truly shown itself after all this time, after four and half years? Such beautiful light that had dance across his skin felt like distant dream. Though in the end, Link was unsure if he could fully trust any of yesterday’s memories.

The kitchen was not hard to find as he could see it from the bathroom door. But walking there was a different story, every few steps had him fumbling like a foal. He didn’t fully understand it, his legs were steady and his mind felt clear. Perhaps his muscles were still numb from the cold water.

“Good morning.” The Sheikah woman greeted him happily over her mug as she waited at the table. It appeared that most had already been set with fruit, toast, sausage and oddly, two teakettles. He could guess there was something more as the Gerudo was tending to something over the wood stove. Smells like eggs. He thought before taking a set across from the expecting mother. “You look like you are doing much better than yesterday.”

That was something he could agree on and nodded; he was a lot better than whatever illness befell him. He stared at the food laid out and his stomach grumbles, definitely hungry from not eating since two nights ago. But Link truthfully wasn’t interested in eating and the potent smell of everything didn’t help much either.

“Would you like tea or milk?” She offered, but quickly frowned when he shook his head. “Just water then?”

[I don’t want anything, thanks though.] He signed lazily, knowing that she wouldn’t understand, though doing so anyway.

Both jumped when a hot pan was dropped onto the table, the vibration nearly sending some of the tableware over the edge. As the very angry Gerudo stared down the Hylian wipes her hands upon her apron ever so slowly. “I really don’t care about what happens to you when you leave. But I won’t be having anyone dying under my roof, even if that means I have to force feed you.”

Link stood up with haste, nearly knocking the chair over. He has about had it with this woman’s unprovoked attack on him for being here. She was the one that grabbed and brought him to her home in the first place! [Then why bother saving me the other morning!?]

“Honestly, the only reason I saved you was because I thought you were Sheikah.” She scoffed.

“Mani-!” The Sheikah woman burst in outrage, but was unable to finish as her wife quickly placed a hand over her mouth. Though hushed gently by the Gerudo, the hand was quickly swatted away. The smaller woman’s eyes speaking all her anger and disappointment in silence, she would not stay quiet for long.

[So you do understand me.] He stated with a bitter look, both their eyes meeting a levelled glare. [If that was the case then why not say that earlier!?]

“Not that you can remember, voe. Consider it a favour for keeping things simple with a fever, deranged Hylian.”

“ENOUGH. Both of you sit down this instant! Or Hylia help me, I turn you both into frogs!”

Her wife sat down immediately, but while Link had been taken off guard from the soft-spoken woman’s sudden outburst, he was not really intimidated. Just what kind of threat was that anyways? It wasn’t like she could actually do that. So, he remained standing, half tempted to just leave, but he didn’t know where they had taken his belongings.

“One.” Crossing her arms as she began.

“Dearest, please.” But her protest went unheeded.

“Two.”

“Your body won’t be able to handle the strain so close to birth!” Fear beginning to reveal itself for the first time Link had seen in the Gerudo.

“Thr-” Stopping as the man finally sat down, her expression softening into a weak smile. “Thank you. Now let’s all eat and talk after there is food in our bellies.”

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

With a fork, Link flicked the small round of meat back and forth on his plate. He had barely managed to swallow the only bite he took, but it wasn’t like it tasted bad, the meat had been wonderfully seasoned. He just didn’t want to eat. The warrior had succeeded in finishing the small spoonful of scrambled eggs, half a piece of toast and three slices of fruit. Eating because you have to, not because you want to, makes the whole meal a chore. His body seemed to agree with him as his insides tensed in reply. I hope I don’t throw up after this.

The only thing he might have enjoyed was the mug of hot milk with a few drops of honey. The hot silky drink had done more to wake his senses than the sour scent of the tea the Sheikah was having. Nonetheless his hosts; feeling more like captors at the moment, seemed to be satisfied with his progress.

The white haired woman gave her wife an elbow to the ribs, narrowing her eyes at the taller before gesturing to Link. With a restrained grimace, the Gerudo looked to the man and hesitantly began to speak. “Forgive my behaviour, your… state reminds me of the weakness I once bore. It aggravates me that I was just has helpless to the phase you went through. Thankfully though, I don’t need to worry about others like yourself passing it onto me anymore.”

[So it isn’t Ganon’s Blight…] Link gave a huge sigh of relief, he knew deep down it was never the case. But it was a huge weight lifted to hear that someone else had experienced this and was just fine. [Then this illness only affects a person once?]

A perplexed look quickly shattered her mask of irritation, almost seeming to be stunned for a moment before she could gather herself enough to respond. “Uh…no.”

To which Link expressed his own confusion. [But you said that you were once affected by this, meaning you have grown immune. Or are you saying that I need a cure?]

“Technically…? I wouldn’t go as far as calling it a cure. And I don’t know how it affects others like yourself, but I believe that you are stuck with this your whole life.”

[How did you become unaffected then? There isn’t much difference between a Gerudo and a Hylian.] The man felt like the more questions he asked the more bewildered the woman got and was slower to answer him.

“I formed a soul bond…” Now the Sheikah woman’s cheeks turned pink as she glanced back and forth between them, only getting half the conversation.

How did this topic come up? Shaking his head, Links irritation was starting to return. [How does… How does that have anything to do with this topic?]

“Do you have any idea what you are…?”

[I’m Hylian. Male if you need details.] Putting as much sarcasm he could physically muster into his gestures and expression.

“I don’t really mean race, but sex has a lot to do with it. I don’t know the Hylian words for it specifically. But I wouldn’t be so sure about your claim as male, I doubt that you explored your body completely… or had someone do it for you. Well, not that you can remember before a couple years ago. Right, Link? Memory loss must be such a pain.” Oh how her smirk made him want to knock her out of chair. Just who does she think she is? Like she could understand what it was like to lose everything of your person.

“Link? As in the Hylian Champion, the Hero that slayed Calamity Ganon!?” The smaller gasped and covered her face with her hands. “Oh Hylia, forgive me. I saw something that was not meant to witness.”

“Relax, you’re a healer. It’s not something that you haven’t-”

“It’s not that, his soul! There’s no doubt that he has a fated bond given by the Goddess! What if the Princess-”

[I’m not done talking!] Link waves for their attention, agitation making his temperature rise. [And I am getting very tired with dancing around. Just tell me what is going on already, enough with the toying. I have work to get back to.]

“Fine, I shall make this quick and painless for us both. You present as a voe, but you’re actually a vai.” But quickly earned a sharp slap on the shoulder from her wife. “Ouch, what was that for!? He asked for a direct answer!”

“I don’t care! I don’t ever want to hear you say it that way ever again! How would you like it if I said that you may look like a woman, but you’re really a man!? We both know that’s not true and you getting me pregnant doesn’t change that either!” She was so upset, that she had tears in her eyes.

And the Hylian was beginning to wonder if he had been brought to a mad house. Everything that had led up to this point and now this nonsense? A woman getting another woman pregnant? That’s crazy… It’s just not possible, a man had to be involved.

...Ny..M..Ph... Distorted words echoed briefly with a flickering image of a young man he could not put a name to.

Link winced from a sudden strong cramp and pressed a hand to his pelvis. Much like dropping a torch in an autumn grassland, a blazing heat spread through his body rapidly. With the daunting return of the prickling at the back of his neck, becoming an itch that bloomed across his back.

No… no, no, not again! Eyes widening in abrupt anxiety, but the vertigo was already affecting him and things were quickly beginning to fade at the edges. He knew someone had grabbed him, possibly picked him up, though if they spoke, he heard nothing. Nothing but the pounding of a drum.

What is happening to me? Someone tell me! Tell me what I have to do, tell me what I need…

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

The cooling water felt wonderful on his burning skin, he laid there for a few moments. Though Link nearly jumped from the tub when he opened his eyes to find the married couple looking down at him. Still feeling unsteady from the unfamiliar sensations coursing through his body, he managed to speak. [How long…?]

“About an hour, shortest time yet. I’m sure the blackouts will eventually stop once your shock goes away.” The Gerudo was showing an odd face like that looked like pity. “Experiencing this again for the first time and having no knowledge of it at all seems to be taking quiet the toll on your mind.”

[Tell me, if you know… Please, just tell me the truth. How do I fix this?]

“There is no fixing this, Link, it’s a part of who you are… And there isn’t much either of us can tell you, we only know the basics of how your body works. You would have to find someone that is like you or a healer that is well experienced.”

[A healer won’t be difficult. There are lots at the castle.]

“You mustn’t! You can’t go around Hyrule openly speaking of this to just anyone! It must be done in secret.”

[Why?]

“Because the Hylians are the most barbaric of all people when it comes to our unique bodies… They are either too frightened or forcing their beliefs onto others. A hundred years is a long time for most races and during times of strife, terrible people do terrifying things. I do not know all the reasons nor stories, but I know for a fact that the current mask used to hide their crimes is Ganon’s Blight.”

[Wait, you’re saying that the people that become sick with the fever that is spreading across the land, aren’t sick. But going through- through whatever this is, what I’m experiencing?]

“Yes, I am certain that there is likely no sickness. These people were out there all along, but with the monsters disappearing, there is no other way to hide the killing. I personally have been at the end of that blade many times throughout my life and if not for-” Her eyes left him to look at the Sheikah for the briefest of moments, “for the love of my life. I would have been dead a long time ago.”

[But many have been saved, they have been brought to a safe zone for treatments. I’ve saved many myself.]

“Treatments or experiments?” She asked sadly, unable to look him in the eye.

The question made ice grasp around his heart. He had saved them, he had made sure that they were taken to a safe place. Right now there were the best healers tending to the sick, working with researchers to develop treatments and knights; that he personally trained, to protect them all. Link shouldn’t have any doubt about this and yet here he was beginning to question what he has been told.

If they were all really like him, in this state and not plagued by the remaining taint. Then were anyone of them truly safe, how many lives did he place in harm’s way? Oh Hylia. Does the Princess know? Is she the one looking over the quarantined, making the decisions? Or is it someone working in the dark behind all our backs?

[How long does this state last?] Trying to stay calm and work through this. First Link needed all the information he could get, if he charged in without a plan. The perpetrator could do something drastic to cover their tracks. He didn’t want to lose any more innocent lives, not after all the hard work and suffering he endured to save this land.

“A day or two from the few I have heard about.”

[Tell me everything that you know about people like us, all the differences and little things matter.]

“Why suddenly so serious?”

[Because if there truly is no sickness spreading through the land and it is nothing but a made-up plan to take advantage of those suffering! Then I am going to right the wrong I have caused and make the ones responsible pay for their crimes in full.] Link clenched his teeth together and just about growled in furry. If someone dare think that he could be used like a puppet to bring harm to the innocent, they were sorely mistaken.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

So there are women capable of conceiving a child with another woman, like a man could, but unlike a man. They still look and feel like a woman in every way. Consequently, they are unable to bear a child themselves.

The Gerudo culture apparently has the highest regard for women like this. The closet expression of what women like this are called in his language, is Pure Blood. In the ancient history of their people, there were never any men born among them nor was there ever a need for men. Pure bloods were almost as abundant as regular women and it was over great lapses of time did the pure bloods slowly fade out. A male outsider was more fertile than a pure blood and thus was easier to have children with. Sometime long after, it was more common to marry outsiders, a rare occasion would happen with the birth of a Gerudo male.

On top of all that, people like a pure blood Gerudo and people like himself react strongly one another. Normally the pure blood’s intentions are triggered by the other, first by scent and then touch or sound. However, these intentions are entirely instinctual and are no means consensual to either party. Accidental crossing of paths in Link’s state often leaves both people in an element of deep anguish with an unwanted soul bond.

While neither of them had information on Rito, Goron or Zora. Sheikah are apparently very similar to Hylians, but Link was unable to get anything more than that. He might not have any choice but to ask Impa as she was the only one likely to both know and share those kinds of secrets.

Then there was what he was told about himself. None of anything he had learned had been easy to take in and self-acceptance was something else altogether. The Sheikah healer had theorized that due to the high stress and grave wounds that he has continuously sustained over the years, his body repressed its full capability till now in order to focus on staying healthy. But… no matter how much he looked, from his shoulders down to his feet, he was a man. Sure, he was not as broad shouldered as some and not noticeably as stocky with muscle, but leaner was better when you were looking for more dexterity.

I doubt that you explored your body completely.

The Gerudo’s taunt came back to team up with doubt as he spread his left hand over his abdomen. What was there to explore, he could see everything clearly. He had penis and a set of testicles just like all the other men.

…or had someone do it for you.

He shook his head to chase off those words. So what if he had never lain with anyone, he wasn’t interested in it or anyone at this point in his life. Nor did his curiosity branch as far as to try and explore himself physically. There were plenty of other things he had to get done than to shut himself up in his room. Unlike some of his knights in training, whom he has caught in places around the castle alone or with another.

I really don’t need to remember the things I’ve found people doing in places they shouldn’t….

Link let himself slide down to dunk his head underneath the cold water. This was another thing about his body, this fever of sorts that lasted a day or so. It had been described to him in a simple, yet animalistic term. His state of extreme warmth, disorientation of the mind, heightened senses and unknown urges was bluntly titled; ‘in heat’. According to what he understood, this would likely happen every month and would change his body odour to boldly announce to everyone within sniffing distance that he was fertile.

Makes me sound like a dog…

At least cool water helped take the edge off and clear his head a little. When finally came up for air and sat upright once more, he found himself staring at his legs. Discovering himself strangely hesitant, Link couldn’t recall the last time that he felt this way about anything. It was his own body, there was nothing to be unsure about, yet here was this small feeling of anxiety. He clenched his teeth in frustration when his legs twitched from his own hands being rested upon them.

Pull yourself together.

If he wanted to end this, to have proof that it wasn’t true, he would have to feel for himself. A place that he couldn’t see clearly and never paid much attention too. Behind his genitals, underneath the pelvis.

Lifting his right hand, Link lightly touched the lower point of his inner thigh and feeling the firm area as he carefully came forward. It kind of tickled, but his body was so tense that he didn’t even titter. However, when he reached behind his scrotum, his whole body gave a jolt and he pulled his hand away. Even his heart quickened from surprise.

I don’t think I felt anything. Trying to reassure himself and took a deep breath to slow his heart down, not wanting to freak out for no reason.

Returning his fingers to where they were, resisting the reflex to pull away when his body jolted again. Waiting a moment before thinking over the feeling, it was like a cut without the pain. Flinching yet again when he slipped a finger just past the opening of the cut, the flesh underneath was almost plush to the touch. It reminded him of the backside of his bottom lip.

All the way to his knuckle, unable to go further and still the passage continued on. It was a phantom sensation, feeling slight pressure and yet unable to relate that it was a part of him. The touch of the wound felt real around his finger, but the flesh didn’t belong to him, it was like it was someone else. Adding pressure to feel more clearly had an unforeseen repercussion.

“Ngh!” A pathetic excuse of a gasp passed his lungs quickly as he was being run over by a tidal wave of revived senses. Like being struck by lightning, his nerves were tingling all over his body. At first it was refreshingly chilling before the blooming burst of heat from his lower hips.

By the time his mind cleared from the shock, Link realized that he was soundlessly struggling to breathe. His legs trembling and body shaking uncontrollably as his core pulsed strongly to the rhythm of his heart. On the surface, it felt as though his insides were twisting, but under his hand he knew that they were twitching.

Half from anger, half from something else, Link ripped his hand away. Needing something to ground himself to, both hands grasped desperately to the edge of the wooden walls of the tub. But his body only seemed to retaliate against him more, leaving this ghost like feeling that his finger was still there.

Just stop already, nothing is there! He cried out, trying to drown out images slowly coming forth. Too twisted to be a memory. That’s not what I want! Stop! Don’t think about that!

Link forced himself back under the water and held himself there as long as he could, till he had to gasp for air. Then pushed himself back under, trying to clear his head and distract himself from the truth. Having learned what he had been needing, what he had been reaching out for. He may not want it, but his body did. Here, here, here his body seemed to beg as it throbbed.

It was true. While he had never touched a woman, he little doubt that what was there was not much different. There was a passageway that led to a womb, his womb. He could be impregnated, grow and birth a child.

Pregnant. Blue light flashed across his skin as his soul manifested itself, triggered by his heightened emotions.

Link could become pregnant with another man’s child, possibly a woman’s too if she was able. He wanted to believe that it was panic and fear he was experiencing, not excitement and joy. No, it was more logical for man to freak out and breakdown in a situation like this.

The stinging of his eyes had to be from terror, from a nightmare that he had awoken to. Link wasn’t built to be a mother, he was built to be a killer.

His touch wasn’t gentle, it was rough.

His heart wasn’t compassionate, it was militant.

His soul wasn’t pure, it was blood stained.

Submerged and curled up at the bottom of the bath, hands grasping painfully at the sides of his head. He couldn’t allow himself to be setback by something like this, he had a wrong to right, a duty to fulfil. Link then repeated a mantra that he had used many times before Calamity Ganon was defeated.

My will and mind are of the people, the innocent. My body is theirs to guide. I am not a person. I am a weapon. I am a shield. My flesh and bones can be repaired. I require nothing that does not suit my mission. I will fulfil my goal by any means necessary.

I am not a person. I am a weapon. I am a shield. I am the Divine Beast of Hyrule.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

The sun was a few hours from setting as Link stepped out from the cabin and according to his map it was a little ways west of Dalite Forest. Not that far off from where he collapsed and was found. He was certain that he could make it to the stables before night fall.

“Here, take this with you.” The Sheikah woman offered a small bundle, that was no doubtably food. He gave a nod of thanks and tied it to his belt. Then she softly added with a concerned frown. “Are you going to be okay?”

[I’m fine, I’m familiar with the signs and I’ll learn how to handle them.]

“He’ll be able to take care of himself.” The Gerudo piped in from the doorway, still uneasy about him walking away and knowing their whereabouts. Originally she was going to blindfold him and drag him far from her property. But that was before gaining him as brother-in-arms, she wouldn’t go as far to call him an ally yet. Not knowing what he would honour more, the new council and Princess Zelda or their kin suffering in the shadows.

Link really didn’t know what else he could do at this point to prove his loyalty, he had already given them all the information on how to contact him discreetly if they needed him. No one at the castle would think anything of it if he went off duty for a day or two. Zelda was practically begging him to take some days off from training the last time it had been brought up.

[I do have one question that went unanswered.]

“You’re not getting either of our names.”

[Not that, something I asked your wife. Could you relay the question for me?]

“We’ll see, what is it?”

[Why did your soul change colours?] He was not expecting the Gerudo to smirk at him in amusement, but did not express any reaction to further please her.

“That memory loss must be a real big embarrassment, just how much did you lose?” But her teasing was cut short by the scowl that came from her wife and recomposed herself, though was still clearly pouting. “He wants you to answer his question on why your soul changed colours last night.”

“Huh? Oh, that!” She smiled brightly at the Hylian warrior, possibly too much excitement than Link could handle right now. “That was because the one I am soul bound to was close by, we are marked by sharing colours and patterns. The stronger your bond the more you take in from your partner-” She had much more to share, but Link raised a hand to stop her.

[Thanks. I don’t need to know all the details, it’s a marriage thing. I got it.]

“Um?” Looking away for a translation only to find her wife shaking her head and returning inside. Confused and turns to find that Link had vanished. “…I almost hate my people’s enhanced clothing some days.”

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

While the monster was no Octorok, it certainly had been a problem. And the people had been right to call for his aid instead of the Hylian Guard. There was no doubt that the land based warriors would have either drowned or been forced to retreat.

Coming to the surface, just off the coast of Aris Beach, Sidon carried two of their wounded that were left unable to swim. They weren’t too far off from Lurelin Village, the proper medical equipment and other supplies had been left there before the battle. The wounded will make it.

“Prince Sidon.” Revan called to him, a bit battle worn himself and seemingly irritated. “Allow us to carry the wounded back, the captain has gone AWOL again.”

Sidon sighed softly, it wasn’t direct because he was the prince, but he knew that this soldier was asking for help. The captain of the royal guard and army was rather young for the position, often doing irresponsible things. Such as this, the battle was won and the captain could be collecting a trophy or something as silly as treasure hunting.

“I understand, I shall look for him. Do not wait for me, I want the wounded seen to at once.” Carefully passing on the two unconscious zora to Revan and another capable soldier. Then allowed himself to sink back into the ocean below, before swiftly swimming off towards the battlefield.

The scent of blood was still heavy in the water, even with the strong current pulling it back out into the vast open sea. Overlooking the area from above, the neighbouring sea life was already helping themselves to the free meal. The schools of fish obstructed most of the view so he swam in for a closer look. Most of the smaller species took off from his approach, clearing the massive corpse of the creature they had slain.

But no sign of- Eyes suddenly locking onto a black tail darting off into cliff like rock formations just beyond the site. Sidon quickly pursued not wanting to lose sight of him for too long. Only to barely see him dive down over a ledge as the prince twisted around the corner.

“Captain Bazz!” He called out, not wanting this to turn into a long game of chase. Sadly, his loud voice was not as effective underwater as it was above and his call went unheard. A game of chase it is…

Diving and climbing over reefs and rock formations. Bazz was surprisingly nimble with quick turns and finding places to slip through the rocks, with Sidon’s size it was not so easy. More than once underestimating his space or over powering his strokes left him with no choice, but to twist last minute and propel off the rocks. Sometimes it just enough to scrape by, others he ended up going the wrong direction altogether.

Bazz was certainly making it rather hard for the prince to keep his title of the fastest swimmer of Zora’s Domain. Always leaving just the slimiest sights of his black tail disappearing from sight, Sidon had yet to see anything else. It almost felt as though he was being taunted.

Till the larger zora finally closed the gap and grasped the tail before Bazz ducked around another corner. Possibly a little too strongly than he should have, it was a semi sensitive area, but did not let got when the other fought back.

“No, I do believe that is enough fooling around, Captain Bazz…” Sidon trailed off when he yanked the man by his head fin from around the rock wall. Only there was no body attached to said head and said head was no zora. It was a twilight shark. While Sidon felt somewhat humiliated, he could see how he had mistaken the shark’s black and grey spotted tail for a zora fin.

“Terribly sorry, I mistook you for someone. I hope I didn’t give you too much of a fright, little one.” And let the shark go, watching as it darted away. Then he chuckled. “Though, this would be a story Link would enjoy I’m sure.”

Now it was time to find the real Bazz. Swimming back to the surface to find out just how far he had been led astray, Sidon was quite astonished where he ended up. If he recognized the land formation correctly, it was Ibara Butte, which meant that he was sitting in the waters just off of the Komo Shoreline. Not wanting to waste any more time, Sidon dived under the waves and made his way back towards Aris Beach, hoping to spot the man on the way there.

But just as he was passing Martha’s Landing, Sidon felt faint spark. It startled him so badly that he stopped and drew his sword as he looked for the threat. However, he saw nothing that could have been the source and it seemed to have vanished- there it is again!

Quickly realizing that he only felt the sensation when he was looking directly at the coast. Sidon had never felt something quite like this before, while mildly reminding him of a shock arrow, it was no way near as powerful. His curiosity had been captured and he followed the weak electric feeling.

At first was like being pulled along by a single line of thread, but it gradually became rope. He lost it a couple times, having to stop and spin around before found it again. It almost felt like it was alive in a sense, a spirit maybe? With the spark now much stronger, it was more of an electrical current, while it irritated him, it did not hurt.

Sidon was probably searching for a good half hour before he found the source. An entrance in the large coral reef, he was almost too big to fit, his armour scraping along the walls. It turned out to be a grotto, the ceiling had gaps big enough for his hands to fit through scattered all over, plant life of all sorts and colours painted the space. He was so distracted by the wonderful little world that he had found that he failed to realize that he was not the only one here.

“I thought I told you that I wanted to be left alone! I am trying to pray! Now do not make me tell you again or are you going to make your Prie–” Their eyes met and all became silent.

Sidon wasn’t sure what to say, he was awestruck. Here was a woman like none that he had never laid eyes upon before sitting in the bed of sea grass. Her skin shimmering as though it were made of silver, embedded with pale sapphires of varying sizes, eyes made of amethyst. Her tail fin was short as a child’s, though round like a clam shell and atop her head many thin, long fins that reminded him of locks of hair.

She wore a decorative head piece made of ivory beads, carved with unfamiliar designs and cut rubies. Her garment was of deep crimson, loosely draped over her front, held up by an assortment of jewellery to match her headdress.

Realizing that he had been rudely gawking, he sheathed his blade and raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “F-forgive me, I did not mean to stare nor trouble you miss!”

“You have not troubled me, stare as much as you wish…” The silver zora seemed to be in some sort of shock, perhaps she had never seen a red zora before? After a moment she got up and swam a little closer to him, a curious yet excited look beginning to show. “How… How did you find me? This place is well hidden and only one man knows this location.”

“I can’t quite explain it myself, I felt drawn here. Like there was energy calling out to me. Ridiculous, I know.”

“By Prima.” She said breathlessly, grasping her pounding heart with both hands, suddenly overwhelmed with joy. “You have answered my prayers, a saviour and beyond words I can express, you have given one of lineage.”

“Saviour, me? I will offer whatever aid I am able, but I am afraid that I do not understand. Are you in a state of peril?”

“Me and what is left of my people. Many are wounded and sick, we have been swimming for so long I am not sure how many of us will make it through the month.” Her glow beginning to dwindle with the thought of death approaching.

Now, he couldn’t have that and determined to make the young lady smile once more, he perked up. “Fret not, Princess. Your people shall endure!” Sidon gave her his renowned, bright smile and placed a hand upon his heart. “I, Prince Sidon of Zora’s Domain, welcome you and your people. I offer refuge and perhaps you could in kind tell the King of your journey.”

It certainly did the trick and she was once more full of delight. “Yes, of course! Thank you for your generosity, your grace.”

“Think nothing of it, it is not every day that you hear of other Zora Kingdoms! Let alone meet one quite so unique, if I may be so bold. The silver is lovely.”

“U-unique? Me?” Her spotted cheeks flushing pink. “Oh, no not at all. All of our people are silver, red is far more worthy of praise. Red is the colour favoured by Prima.”

“Prima?”

“They are the Deity we worship.”

“That is quite the flattery you give me, but I am in no way Godlike. I am merely a humble Prince.” Sidon chuckled and then remembered that he had yet to learn her name. “May I have the honour of knowing your name Princess?”

“Oh! Um, Yanun… But you may call me whatever you wish, your grace.”

“Please, call me Prince Sidon. A Princess should not have to address another of the same stature as though I am above you.” He then gave a polite bow of his head. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess Yanun.”

<<–Previous Chapter-^-Next Chapter–>>

#SidLink #a/b/o verse #Mpreg #Primal FF #Written Work #Fanfic #Rated M #Rated R

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dracosollicitus · 6 years

Note

I loved "Damerey 35+41". Broke my heart. PLEASE, tell me that you'll write a sequence where those two make up (after Rey punches him)!.

Ahhhhh here we go! @raissapl

also tagging @melanoradrood @therebeccaw @d4m3r0n @vegan-vulcan @dragonfodder44 @roguecompanion1812 @supremequeenofthenerds and @realmandamanda (who in some way asked for part two)

Part One (Where Poe Messes Up Big Time)

Word Count: 3783 words

In the following weeks, which bled into months, Finn didn’t speak to Poe. He understood, rationally, why his friend refused to make eye contact with him, why he got up from the table when Poe sat down - it just didn’t make it hurt any less. Poe was already lying awake at night in his bunk, clutching his mother’s necklace, unable to breathe from grief, begging the Force to bring Rey back, to let him find her - Finn’s patented “Pretend Poe Dameron Doesn’t Exist” campaign wasn’t helping matters.

Rose, at least, had more sympathy. “You’re a kriffing idiot,” she’d told him ferociously the day after Rey left.

“I know,” Poe said miserably, clanging his head against the side of the X-Wing they were both stationed at. He’d almost skipped his duties today, but Beebee had adamantly zapped him until he got out of bed. He didn’t pick his head up from the durasteel hull, and a warm hand wrapped around his arm. He looked over to see Rose smiling up at him, her eyes still angry, but the anger was combined with kindness.

“Now, how are we going to bring her back?” Rose asked. Poe smiled back at her weakly, his first smile since Rey had told him she was pregnant, and let his small friend lead him over to a holo-screen where she’d already begun calculations.

Ten weeks later, and no sign of Rey - no stations they’d checked with had taken in a new member recently (”But wouldn’t they lie and tell us she wasn’t there, anyway?” Poe had pointed out. Rose had calmly answered, “If she hears you’re looking for her, she’ll contact us. Dummy.” Poe didn’t want to question the confidence in Rose’s response - half out of fear of Rose Tico, and half out of hope that it was true), no whispers of Jedi activity, and absolutely no budging by Leia Organa, the only person who did know where Rey had gone.

She found him one day, curled up in the little utility closet Rey had converted into a scavenging station, ten miserable weeks after the Jedi had left. He was trying to catch even the slightest hint of Rey - the smell of her hair, an echo of her laugh - and he was crying well before the general walked in. He wiped his face hastily and stood at attention, well aware tears were still leaking out of his eyes.

Leia sat down on a crate near the door, and rested her cane in front of her. She regarded him heavily, but Poe waited for her to speak, his eyes boring a hole into the wall in front of him. “At ease, Commander,” she sighed, and Poe relaxed slightly. She patted the crate next to her, and he tripped over himself on his way to sit. Poe wiped his face one more time, and Leia’s wrinkled hand gripped his shoulder. It was like she’d cut something loose inside him, and he sobbed, a harsh, angry sound. The older woman rested her hand in his hair and gently guided his head down to her shoulder, where he cried, brokenly, for minutes.

When his breathing had quieted down, he could feel her expectantly waiting for him to say something. Poe wiped his nose hastily and sat up. Leia raised her eyebrows at him, and he fidgeted with his hands, unsure of where to start.

“You have one question,” she said calmly. “And I’ll give you one answer, but only if it doesn’t betray her trust.”

Poe reeled for a second - the obvious question was where is she? but that wouldn’t meet the terms Leia had just given him. “Is-” he croaked, and cleared his throat quickly. “Is she okay? Is she healthy?” Is she happy went unsaid.

Leia gave him an appraising look but then nodded curtly, tapping her cane on the floor. “I talked to her two days ago. She’s healthy. They both are.” Poe wept again, his face buried in his hands. Rey was okay - their baby was okay. She hated him, but she was alive, and their her baby was okay. He could - he could live with that. He’d have to live with that.

She’d said one question, but he pushed his luck because that’s what he did. As Leia was moving to stand, he gripped her sleeve the way a child would; when she looked down, her expression wasn’t unkind. “How far along is she?” He asked breathlessly. Leia’s eyes softened, and she reached out to cup his cheek.

“Twenty-four weeks,” she answered, her hand soft and warm on his face. “And that’s enough questions, Commander.” Leia left him then in the closet that had belonged to Rey, to think about the woman he loved and his child, out in the galaxy somewhere far, far away from him.

Twenty-four weeks. The number slammed into Poe over and over again while he walked to his station later that day. He counted meticulously backward in his head - he and Rey had only made love seven times - more if you counted stolen, quiet, happy moments in his bunk that ended with her sighing his name, her nails digging into his wrist or scalp - no, don’t think about that, not if you want to be useful at all today - he counted over and over again even though he knew the second Leia had given him the number, he knew when it had been. The second to last time they’d managed to fall together completely was -

Fourteen weeks - two, short months - before Rey had left. It was right before she’d taken off on an mission, and he had caught her by the hand after dinner, whispered in her ear, led her to his bunk, and pressed her into the mattress, trying to demonstrate with his body all of the things his voice couldn’t quite say, yet, the things he was too afraid to say in the grip of a war that threatened constantly to take both of their lives, to steal the future he so desperately wanted for them.

He didn’t have to wrack his brain to know what was different about twenty four weeks ago - something almost … mystical had happened, when they both cried out at the same time. Objects in the room had levitated, a golden, soft glow emanated from both of them, and a sense of intense purpose had washed over him as he gazed down at the woman he loved. “Is that you?” he had breathed, as the galaxy slid into place, locked, around them.

“It’s us,” Rey had answered, laughing lightly and leaning up to kiss over his heart, and then along his throat. Poe had surrendered with a groan, kissing her passionately, their breath intermingling, his body refusing to leave hers, even though it’d done its job admirably already.

Twenty-four weeks ago, they’d made a child - and fourteen weeks after that, he’d ruined their chance at making a family.

He’d never forgive himself.

A week after his conversation with Leia, Poe was standing in Central Command. He’d managed to shave this morning, after Rose steadfastly refused to call him anything but “Chewbacca,” for the last two days, and even bathed - with water, not sonic. Finn had actually looked at him during breakfast, and hadn’t gotten up from the table when he sat down, which made Rose beam and kiss her boyfriend on the cheek. Hopefully one day, Finn wouldn’t have to be coerced by the love of his life into being in Poe’s vicinity, but it was a step in the right direction.

He was chatting idly with Snap about mods to the new set of X-Wings they’d managed to get from a sympathetic Core World supplier when the transmission came in.

“Distress signal,” Connix announced, her fingers already flying over her holo-pad. “Projecting now. It’s from Designation Bravo - Papa - Romeo.”

Leia paled and raised her hand to silence a gaggle of junior officers in the corner who hadn’t heard Connix. Poe straightened up and listened to the transmission, the grainy quality interspersed with the distant sound of explosions.

“This is –tenant Rels– of the Resistance. Our base is — attack. First Order —gies spotted thr—ntes ago. Attack commenced imm–tely. This is not a mil—-ase. We informe—em that we are refugees, mostly women and childr— but they proceed–to–tack. Requesting immediate back—–ay the Force be with —-” A longer, horrible sound of static filled the transmission.

Leia turned from the screen, and Poe saw she was fidgeting with the golden dice she kept in her pocket. “Gold, Black, and Red Squadrons, you will assist immediately. Your astromechs will receive the coordinates to prepare you for the jump.” Connnix moved to alert the droids, and Snap and Poe nodded; they turned to leave. “Commander Dameron, report to me first.”

Poe walked over to Leia, his heart already hammering with typical pre-battle adrenaline. He itched to get in his bird, to do some kirffing good for once, to help-

Leia was terrified, and his world narrowed down to that fact. “What is it, General?” Poe asked, his legs screaming at him to run to the hangar, now. His squadron was waiting for him.

“Base Designation Bravo - Papa - Romeo,” Leia tensed her mouth for less than a millisecond before shattering what was left of Poe Dameron’s carefully constructed control. “It’s the base Rey went to, Poe. Kylo must know where she is.” Poe staggered, and Leia grabbed his elbow. “You needed to know. When you get there and if it’s clear enough - extract her. If it’s not too-” She stopped herself, but Poe knew what she meant. If it’s not too late.

He refused to accept that it could be too late. Poe nodded before sprinting for the door, ignoring the twinge in his back that he accrued the last time he’d sprinted like this for his X-Wing, the time a plume of fire had snatched away the lives of dozens of his friends, had destroyed the Resistance’s fleet - no. Today wasn’t going to go that way.

He made it to the hangar the same time Snap did, despite his near-minute head start. “Power up those engines, Beebee,” he called to his droid. It chirped in affirmation, and he felt Black One hum to life. “Alright, Black Squadron, we gotta clear the air, and then I need to retrieve something on the ground. Cover me as much as you can when I’m down there, but what I’m getting is more important than me.” Poe flipped the sequence of switches to engage his primary ion thrusters, and his squadron called back to confirm they were ready to fly. None of them asked what he had meant - they’d followed stranger commands from him.

They shot off from the hangar, and the second they broke atmo, Poe ordered, “Punch it, Beebee!” The streak of blue in Hyperspace wrapped around them, and Poe breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, willing himself to calm down, refusing to conceive an image in his mind of Rey, pregnant and trapped below a First Order assault - “How much longer, BB-8?” Poe called back, and his droid squawked in indignation. Soon enough, apparently.

With a lurching kick, they dropped out of Hyperspace, and his squadron appeared behind him. “Going down. Keep tight to the surface, Black Two and Three, and clear any activity near the base. Black Four and Five, keep high, knock out any on our tail.”

“Wilco, Black One,” Jess shouted. “We’ve got your back.”

Poe gripped his controls and dived down into atmo, praying to the Force to give him luck just one more time, to get him through this at least until he knew Rey was safe, to -

They reached the coordinates of the base, and all around were the scattered remains of TIE-fighters.

“Did Gold Squadron beat us here?” Kare called out uncertainly. Poe shook his head, forgetting oddly that she couldn’t see him.

“Incoming!” Snap shouted. Two TIEs screamed towards them - but they weren’t heading for them, they were heading for -

A T-65, which performed a perfect barrel roll, and shot back towards them with frightening speed, not changing course.

“They’re going to run right into them!” Snap shouted. Poe engaged his cannon and pointed it at the TIEs, but the T-65 banked a hard left and blew them out of the sky before they could do anything. The ancient X-Wing did a lap, and he could see the helmeted figure looking around, searching for any more enemies.

Seeing none, the X-Wing headed for the ground. “Does any one else feel…unnecessary?” Jess asked. Poe snorted and guided his X-Wing to follow the T-65. As he got closer, his landing gear extended, he spotted an R2 unit in the back.

That was…weird. He didn’t think they made…R2s….anymore. And it looked awfully familiar -

He disengaged the lock on his canopy and climbed out of Black One. “Stay here, BB-8,” he ordered, a command his droid promptly ignored, dropping down and rolling after him. Poe rolled his eyes, checked his blaster in case any more unfriendlies showed up, and walked towards the T-65, whose canopy was currently opening. Black Squadron touched down behind him. “Stay in your ships,” Poe ordered. “We might have more company.”

“Roger that,” Snap said. Poe kept walking until he was right in front of the other X-Wing.

“Great flying,” he complimented. “We didn’t think this was a military operation.”

The pilot muttered a curse, and Poe frowned up at them. They hadn’t taken their helmet off yet, and they weren’t moving.

“Why don’t you come down,” he suggested. “Do a debrief, and then we can make sure your people are okay.” The pilot grumbled something else before shrugging. They smacked the release on their belt and rose fluidly. The jumpsuit they wore was loose in the shoulders, obviously borrowed, but it hugged their curves. A woman, then, and she raised her hands to her helmet and lifted it, shaking her hair out.

Poe stared in shock.

“Rey?” He said, tripping forward. “Rey, what are you –”

“Oh shit,” Jess whispered into the comms. “Oh shit.”

“This is awkward,” Snap muttered.

Poe ignored them and raised his hand up to help Rey down. She swatted it away and climbed the ladder on her own, standing before him with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“I had everything under control,” she said coldly. “No need for you all to waste your time.”

“We didn’t-” Poe couldn’t stop staring. “You-” A thousand emotions rippled through him, and he didn’t know which one to focus on.

Rey rolled her eyes and unzipped her flight suit, stepping out of it. She was wearing a soft tunic and leggings, the fabric around her abdomen revealing an undeniable bump.

“You’re so big,” Poe breathed, his hands lifting unconsciously.

“I beg your pardon?” Rey snapped.

Black Squadron groaned in unison over the comms.

“I thought the commander was supposed to be a player?” Kare snorted. “Legendary silvertongue, they said.”

“Beautiful-” Poe corrected himself hastily. “You’re so beautiful.” Rey shook her head and stormed away, and Poe stumbled after her. “Rey, wait -”

“I need to make sure everyone in the base is fine,” Rey snapped, waving her hand at him like he was a pesky insect. “Go away, Dameron, I’ll send my debrief to the general later.”

“No, Rey, please, talk to me,” Poe begged. The surface of the planet was muddy, and he lost his footing, tripped, landing on his knees. The sound got Rey to turn around, and well, he was in the best position to do this already. “Please, sweetheart, please talk to me. I made the biggest fucking mistake of my life, letting you go, please, you gotta-”

“Gotta what?” Rey snapped. “I don’t need to do anything, Dameron. You made your sentiments very clear. You want nothing to do with me, and I don’t need you to apologize about it now.” Poe gaped at her, and to his horror he saw tears in her eyes. “Just go back to central, and leave me alone.” She turned again, and he scrambled to his feet, now covered in mud.

“Baby, please,” Poe slid forward another few feet, and Rey froze, not looking at him. “I missed you, every fucking second of every kriffing day you were gone. You left before I could get to you, I - I misunderstood, sweetheart. I thought - I thought-”

“You thought I’d cheated on you with the Supreme Leader, and that he’d knocked me up?” Rey pivoted while she said this, her voice pitching upwards into a scream by the end.

“Ohhhhhh shit,” Jess muttered. “Oh fuck, Commander, what did you do?”

“That’s enough,” Poe barked. Rey stiffened in anger, and he held his hands out. “No, no, no, not you, sweetheart, please -” Rey made to turn around again, and Poe lurched forward, hands raised in supplication. He fell to his knees again - what the fuck is wrong with this planet? why doesn’t anyone else seem to be tripping? - and clasped his hands together beggingly. “I - I don’t think that anymore - “

“Oh, how generous of you,” Rey sneered, her hand covering her stomach protectively. Poe swallowed, tried not to stare at it, at the life she was growing inside of her. “How absolutely forgiving of you.”

“I fucked up,” Poe said, dragging muddy hands through his hair, tearing at his roots. “Please, Rey - I - I shouldn’t have let you go, but I thought it’s what you wanted, thought you didn’t want me around, especially not if you were-”

“Pregnant with a Sith Lord’s Force-Baby?” Rey scoffed.

“I didn’t care about that,” Poe said, his breath catching. Rey stared down at him, her hazel eyes angry and hurt, and he dropped his head, unable to look at her anymore, his shoulders sagging. “I didn’t - I wouldn’t care if it were true, Rey, and I wouldn’t care if you had slept with him. I was always so shocked that you’d settled for me at all, that you’d given any time at all to me. It was your body, and your life, and I had no right to dictate any of it, and I just wanted to support you.”

“You pushed me away,” Rey said, her voice breaking. Poe looked up, and saw that she was crying to match his own tears. “You - you made me think you didn’t trust me, that you didn’t care about me.”

“That’s just not true,” Poe insisted. ��Kriff, Rey, I care about you more than anything else in the galaxy. You and - and our little - your -” He sagged again. “I love you both so much, Rey, and I need you to know that, I can’t have you living your life thinking that I didn’t- that I wouldn’t - I love you, and I loved you before we made that baby, and I loved you for all the days in between, and I loved you when I thought it wasn’t my baby - I love you, and…and I’m sorry that I fucked this all up, and I…” he trailed off, his throat closing from the knowledge that this was probably the last time he’d ever see her again.

“Does anyone have bang-corn?” Snap whispered. Four voices hissed at him to shut the kriff up.

“Stand up,” Rey said. Poe nodded miserably and complied, his feet slipping a little more. He had no idea what he looked like - probably frightful, mud-splattered from head to toe, wild eyed, panting - and Rey stared at him with an unfathomable expression in her eyes.

“I’ll go now,” he said softly, tears burning at the back of his throat. “I’ll go, and I’ll leave you alone. Just - I’m sorry, and I love you, and could you please tell him or her that I love them too?”

Poe began to turn, but Rey grabbed his arm. “If you walk away from me right now, every horrible thing I’ve thought about you for the last fifty-seven days, twelve hours, and six minutes will have been true.”

Poe faced her, disbelief blooming in his stomach. Rey lifted her eyebrows at him, her hand on her hip. “Well?” She demanded. “Were they true? Or are you the man I thought you were before you let me go? Because you’re going to have to stick around and convince me of that, now. If you’re up for it.” Her eyes flashed in defiance, but also in hurt and insecurity and fear, and all the awful things that were his fault.

“Wild rancors couldn’t drag me away,” Poe said, eyes wide as he took her in, this perfect, beautiful woman who was offering him - maybe not a second chance, but a way to earn a second chance. “Maker, Rey -”

“C’mere, flyboy.” Rey held her arms out, and Poe staggered forward into them, holding her tightly, marveling at the way her stomach pressed against his, the evidence of how much he loved her -

Black Squadron cheered loudly into the comms, wolf-whistling and hollering. Poe flicked them off behind his back before pulling Rey closer to him, one of his hands drifting to hover over her stomach. She nodded in consent, and Poe stroked his thumb over the side of her belly, and he laughed shakily.

“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair. He kissed the side of her head and wrapped her up even more tightly in his arms. “Thank you, Sunshine.”

“Don’t ever let me go again,” Rey threatened. “Or I will kick your ass to the Hosnian system.”

“Deal,” Poe laughed again, burying his face in her shoulder.

Suddenly, a thought dawned on him, and his spine stiffened.

“Rey,” he growled, straightening up. She quirked her brow at him. “Rey - what the fuck were you doing flying like that? You could have died!”

“Oh, that’s rich!” Rey shouted back. “You don’t get to skip out on my life for months and then swoop back in and tell me how I should be-”

They argued back and forth for another ten minutes, Black Squadron ooh-ing and aah-ing like it was a Limmie match, before they settled the fight as a draw.

(Okay. Rey won.)

#damerey #jedipilot #poe dameron x rey #poe dameron human disaster #angst #sequel #prompt #happy ending

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 6 years

Note

alright listen henRY being a PORN STAR ON THE SIDE BUT STILL BE A SUCCESSFUL ARTIST AS HE IS TODAY ???? i’m going to leave IM CALLING THE COPS ON MYSELF

OKAY LISTEN!!!!! LISTEN TO ME!!!! I was literally thinking about this concept yesterday like him being a pornstar and it being Y/N’s first time ever doing a video. The people put her with Harry because he’s known as the softie of the bunch (even though he’s known for much different things in bed) and can help her integrate easier.

“This is Y/N,” the director says, introducing them and watching with a small, satisfied smile as Harry reaches out and shakes hands with the new girl. “You’ll be shooting with him. He’ll show you the ropes and what not, make you feel right at home.”

“So it’s your first time, huh?” Harry waggles his eyebrows playfully as he and Y/N walk off to the side to have more privacy. “How cute.”

Her cheeks simmer as she forces out a nervous chuckle, glancing down at her sneakers under his naturally cocky grin. He’s extremely good-looking, even more so in person. “It’s, uh, kinda nerve-wracking.”

He gives her a relaxed, reassuring shrug. “It’s really nothing. You get used to it eventually. I’ll make sure to make you feel good— don’t worry about it, darling.”

And so they set up a time for Y/N to come over to Harry’s to practice, basically laying out that it’s better if they have their first experience together be a personal one so that when the time comes, they’re comfortable enough with each other.

Y/N’s all timid and stuttery and clumsy as Harry takes the lead, pushing her jacket off her shoulders and kissing her softly, breathing through his nose as he inhales her scent, which seems strangely familiar— a distant smell from sometime in his childhood that he can’t quite place.

She’s shaking in his arms as she goes to unbuckle his belt, popping the button open with fidgety fingers and apologizing every three seconds. She falls to her knees, tugging his jeans down his thighs and swallowing heavily when she sees the thick bulge in his Calvin Klein’s, eyes flitting up at him with awed apprehension. “I dunno if I can’t take all of that…”

Harry let’s out a soft chuckle, offering her his hand. “How about we just worry about you for now? Gotta get to know your body better in order to make you feel right.”

Y/N hadn’t had much sexual experience, but just enough that she thought she knew what to expect. Fuck, was she wrong.

Every boy she’d ever been with (a whopping 2 in total) had apparently not been eating her out the way it should be done because the way Harry had worked her over left her a trembling, whimpering, dribbling mess as he pushed back from her wet thighs, wiping his mouth down messily with the back of his hand and eyeing her smugly.

“S’good?” He mumbles absentmindedly as he sucks her leftover release from his fingers, loving the unique taste she has. Throughout the years, girls tended to blur together and taste all the same, but Y/N has a certain tangy sweetness that made him raise his eyebrows in surprise and let out a low, curious hum.

Y/N can’t tear her gaze away from him as he sinks his thumb into his rosy, swollen lips, tongue lulling around the digit and clearing her off his skin. He licks across his knuckles, eyebrow shrugging in a mildly impressed manner.

“Y-Yeah…” She sniffles softly, sighing blissfully. “Really good, actually.”

“Hope so, or else I’d be out of a job.” Harry gives her a smile full of so much genuine kindness and easy banter that it’s almost ridiculous to think he could ever be into the dominant videos he’s known for. He reminds her of Bambi, for some reason. He has the same doe eyes and innocent, childlike aura, but he’s truly anything but. “You’re not bad yourself, pet. You taste really fucking good— s’like…kinda sweet but kinda tangy and with a little kick of something extra. Definitely been eating all your fruits and veggies, haven’t you?”

Y/N nods bashfully, sitting up onto her elbows as he kneels onto the edge of the bed, straddling her thighs and unzipping his jeans. “Definitely did before this.”

His bright jade eyes flit up towards her’s with a playful hue in the specks of gold in his irises. “Good girl, then.”

The way the phrase rolls off his tongue, so deep and low and annunciated by his accent, makes her thighs clench.

He tugs his cock out of his briefs, giving it a few quick tugs, glancing up at her again. “Drink cranberry juice a lot?”

She nods again, smiling numbly and watching with hungry eyes as his cock begins to swell bigger, thick and veiny and beading pre-come all over his knuckles.

“Yeah, I figured. Recognized the taste.” Harry reaches forward and taps her knees gently. “Open up for me, will you?”

Y/N abides hesitantly, her entire body tightening as he snuggles himself between her flexing thighs, draping his body over her’s and accidentally bumping noses.

“Sorry,” he murmurs through a sheepish scoff, adjusting himself accordingly against her heat, starting to rock slowly and sliding his shaft against her slick folds, his lips twitching up when he hears her gasp lightly as the head of his prick nudges the bud of her clit. “Lube or no lube?”

“I’m good, I think,” she whispers, hands coasting up his lean arms hesitantly, stationing across his broad shoulders, gripping the taut muscles. “All thanks to the swell job you did. If you put anything else on there, you might just slide right off.”

Harry belts out a spontaneous giggle that makes her stomach flop, his eyes and nose crinkling up in the most adorable fashion as his teeth show completely. His two front ones are bigger than the rest, she notes, and they make him look so fucking cute it should be illegal.

“I like you— you’ve got a shy kinda spunk,” He says through a heap of snickers, shaking his head slightly as he lines up with her puckering entrance. “Now take a deep breath for me and count to three, yeah? Figure it’s the best way to get you ready. It’s my go-to for first-timers.”

“Alright,” Y/N pulls his chest fully against her’s as he cuddles his face into the side of her neck, his warm lips pressing suckling kisses to her pulse and she feels like she’s going to melt. “One…two…thr—“

Harry slams his hips forward before she’s even done, filling her up in one swift thrust.

She let’s out a sound between a gasp and a strangled moan, her nails digging into his hard back. “Oh, God, Harry!”

A shaky exhale puffs against the sweaty skin of her flushed neck as he begins to work his hips against her at a slow, easy-going pace. She’s so fucking tight— tighter than anyone he’s ever been with— and he thinks it likely he’ll pass out from how incredible she feels squeezing him with her soft walls.

“Fuck’s sake, you’re bloody tight…” Harry whimpers, eyes rolling up into his head as he let’s out a quick, rough snap of his hips— just enough to nudge against her tummy and get the last inch or so all inside. “Jesus, I’m not gonna last five minutes if you keep squeezing me like that, sweetheart.”

“S-Sorry,” she whispers, trying to relax herself so that she doesn’t mess everything up.

He picks up on her apologetic tone, reaching a hand up and thumbing over her cheek with amused tenderness, although when he speaks, his voice is tight. “S’okay, babe. This is why we’re doing this. Gotta get used to what a tight little thing you are, just like you gotta get used to me.”

“Okay,” she huffs in a wistful stupor as he picks up his pace, brushing a spot at the pit of her stomach that has her knees quaking and toes curling. “Fuck, you feel so good, Harry.”

“Daddy.” He corrects gently, lips tickling up her jaw and taking her mouth into his, teeth chewing on her lower lip in a minimal outburst of dominance. “S’Daddy to you, love.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“There’s a good girl.”

#idk what this is but I wanna die??#drabble #pornstar!harry #harry styles smut

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deadimagineblog · 6 years

Text

Trouble Comes In Threes (Triplet!AU) (1/?)

Modern!AU, College!AU. This is my first triplet AU post but I'm gonna give it my best! Its start off with just Ben Solo, but will end with Matt and in the next chapter Kylo as well, so bare with me I promise! Fem!S/O just so you know! There will be smut NSFW, but not in this part. So lets start!

Part One!

° You sat behind the counter of your coffee shop job, long hair up and glinting wonderfully under the warm lighting hanging above. However, your face was anything the shining welcoming look of a barista that day. It had been rough, your car had broken down on the way to work, so your legs were sore from the walk there. You had gotten a text from your parent of a letter you had gotten from your "first choice" college. A rejection letter. Now the wait was on from your second choice college. Upon texting your boyfriend about the news, he explained long distance wouldn't work so the relationship was over. A text, classy. Now you waited for the shift to finally be over. It was almost over though, only a half an hour left. There was one joy that couldn't be taken away from you, and you smiled gently as you saw him pull up on his bike, grin on his face as he pulled open the door.

° Ben Solo, thank christ like a sign from some lord to just hold on. The day was almost over. He wasn't a friend, but a friendly regular that at least knew how to put a smile on that sour puss of a face you probably wore that day. Your smile must have been different than any other day because he stopped as he looked at you.

° "Uh oh, who do I have to beat up?" His voice greeted you and you shook your head as you begin to make his usual coffee. "Ben, you would just not believe the day I've had today," you began as you began combining ingredients to make his coffee. It was something the two of you had perfected, sweet but mature. Creamy but also still packed a powerful punch. Kind of like good old Ben.

° "Good thing I've got today off! Tell me all about it, kid," he stated, making himself at home by coming plopping into the comfy chair that was next to the counter. The two of you went to school together but never really talked to one another, but when you got your job at this coffee shop, he had been quick to work his schedule his daily coffee run around your schedule with the business. No one knew what he ordered. He wore a frown as he heard you sigh quietly as you placed the lid of his coffee cup in and moved around the counter to hand him the drink. He patted the chair next to him and you sat beside him. All the closing chores were done then, you were just waiting to lock the door. It wouldn't hurt to sit for the last 25 minutes.

° "Where to I begin? Well first my car wouldn't start this morning. So I had to make the walk here. Luckily I made it on time," you started as you looked at him rest his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in his hand as he looked at you. "Then I got a text from my mom saying I didn't get into UCLA. Which I kind of figured, since I took a year off it doesn't look good. But I wasn't expecting Andrew to break up with me over it," you hummed in amusement at your own life as Ben looked utterly offended.

° "What an asshole!" Ben almost yelled and you shrugged. "Gets better Ben, he did it over text," you finished and then he did yell, "What the fuck! Oh man, I'm so sorry Y/N. But that offer for dinner still stands," he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He chuckled as he saw you roll your eyes before he sipped the coffee.

° "Thanks but I think I'll stay single until I find out what I college I end up heading to," you retorted with a snort of a laugh, "I'm hoping to find a nice sorority girl," you teased to which he responded with "That'd be pretty hot to be honest."

° "What college are you hoping for? Did you have a second choice?"

° "Gon Jinn University, they have a Philosophy program I'm really interested in, plus they offered me a full ride, I just need to get the go ahead letter," you stated as you got up from the chair and began making your own coffee to drink on your walk home. He seemed to perk up.

° "Hey thats where my brothers go, and I got my acceptance letter yesterday so yours should be there too soon," he assured you with that air of kindness that he was so good at radiating off of him.

° "I didn't know you had brothers," you stated honestly, peeking at him over the coffee machine, "They as handsome as you?" You teased him again and he snorted.

° " They wish. You went to school with them too, Y/N. Kylo and Matt? Matt has curly blonde hair and glasses. He was in AP classes too, you should have seen him once or twice at least. Kylo is the big bad boy of the family. He was in Psychology like you were," he looked at you over the coffee machine and he could see the confusion and could see you shrug your shoulders and rolled his own eyes this time. "I swear to god, I'm not sure how you made it through school without getting hit by a car or something, you're so oblivious," he laughed. You stuck your tongue out at him but laughed with him as you both made pleasant conversation for the rest of the time before you closed up shop. He walked out the door with you, still talking on and on about his major he was interested in, Engineering. It was mostly static noise to you, but he was obviously passionate about it. As you were about to say goodbye to him he cut you off.

° "Want a ride? Its a two seater." He offered with a wiggle of his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes.

"I'm fine Ben, but thank you."

"Come on, maybe I can help you with your car? You've already had a long day, let me help you out," he cooed before unlocking his bike and pushing up the kickstand. He swung up his long leg over the seat and took a hand and patted the room behind him. You looked at it then at him. However, your legs did really hurt. The thought of walking home was almost enough to make you cry. You pulled your purse over your shoulder and nodded as you sat behind him, hands gripping his shirt as he began to peddle away from your coffee shop.

°"Where do you live?" He asked over his shoulder. You leaned up and told him and he looked a little surprised. "Oh I know where that is. I'll get us there," he stated, a small smirk on his lips which made you suspicious but you decided to trust him. He made pleasant enough conversation, asking about your choice in major and you explained it happily, suddenly seeming to glow as you explained it. Everyone knew you were brilliant, but Ben sometimes seemed to get it more than others. He could act like a jughead some(a lot of)times, but you had gotten to appreciate the knowledge in that big head of his, plus having someone to keep up with you was so refreshing. As you got more comfortable with riding with him, your hands had moved from holding his shirt to wrap around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. You asked about somethings about him, about his family and his brothers but he quickly changed the subject from that topic. So you both asked questions about each other. Favorite color, favorite type of music and books and movies.

°"What's your favorite scent? Like food or perfume or even something like trees or flowers?" You asked with interest, eyes looking at his strong features as he thought about it. He was actually very handsome. Such strong features and sometimes he'd catch you looking and he had a smile that could be described as completely contagious and you'd smile back.

° "I like natural smells. Like cedar or campfires or pine or rain on rocks. That kind of stuff. What about you?"

° You answer and he nods before he asked the next question. That was how the ride went. The two of you laughed easily together and both could be playful with one another. It was surprising the two of you hadn't connected in high school, but that was probably for the best, the two of you probably would have gotten expelled. A friendship between the two of you would be trouble in all the fun ways. Suddenly though you were home. You hoped off his bike and stretched, him propping the bike up on the sidewalk as you saw your car in the driveway.

° "Lets see what I can do," he stated, and you quickly shake your head.

"No its okay Ben, I'm sure you want to go home too," you stated quickly but he waved you off.

"I don't leave that far, kid. It won't take me long to get there. Let's see of I can get this thing to turn over," he stated, looking at your beater car. It was already in such bad shape, you had been saving up to buy a new one, but it would be hard to split with your first car. There were great memories in there. You opened thr driver side door and popped the hood for him and out of habit you went to go check the mailbox even though your mom must have already looked to see the letter from the college. However inside there were a small stack of letters. She must have been looking for that letter for you and didn't grab the rest of the mail.

° You take the small stack of envelopes into your hand and look through them casually before you see the othet letter you had been waiting for. There was a moment of panic in your stomach as you set the letters on top of your car and looked at the envelope. Ben looked up to see you looking at the letter. He stood up straight and looked at it with you. "Just the go ahead right?"

° "I'm just worried because I took a year off. What if they don't want me anymore?" You asked yourself more than him. He shrugged, "I took a year off too, and they accepted me." You nodded but added, "Its been that kind of day though, and bad things usually happen in 3s, right?" He took the letter into his hands.

° "Want me to open it?" He asked, and watched as you nodded. It seemed silly, to be afraid of a damn letter, but you couldn't help but be nervous. He took a finger and opened the letter gently, putting the envelope to the side and unfolding the paper inside. He read it out loud for you. "Dear Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for your interest in Gon Jinn University," he paused, giving a small but sad looking smile, "Unfortunately, We regret to inform you that..." He paused again and took a deep breath, "That you will be stuck with one Ben Solo because you are going to school with him," he smirked but quickly laughed as a hand came and swatted his chest, "Ow, hey," he complained but saw that megawatt smile on your face as you leaned on the car and sighed a happy sigh. "Ready for your 3rd bad thing?" He asked, handing you your acceptance and leaning on the car next to you. "Your transmission is shot." "Oh."

° The two of you talked for a little while longer before you thanked him for the ride home and looking at the car for you. He smiled and waved as he got on his bike. But something was strange, he only rode across the street to the house that belonged to Miss Organa, your next door neighbor. You narrowed your eyes in confusion as he got off his bike and walked over to the garage. He opened it and parked his bike inside and waved again. "See you tomorrow neighbor!" Ben yelled and you looked completely surprised as he shut the garage door and you heard him laughing.

° The rest of the summer was spent getting ready to leave. You spent warm nights on the back of Ben's bike until you finally found the right parts to fix your car and then you put Ben's bike in the trunk and gave him rides home every night.

° "You're going to make me fat if you keep denying me my riding rights!"with a curt response of "You're literally built like a brick shithouse, Ben. Shut up."

° Even your parents would began to have late night talks with his mother while their children would hang out in your garage. "My boys are going to be nothing but trouble for your girl," Miss Organa would say with a laugh while your laughters could be heard rattling the walls.

° You really did like the man, he had you laughing till you had tears rolling down your cheeks. But sometimes there would be nights where he would proudly admit his newest conquest, meaning the next tail he would be chasing. So you knew that there was not much of a future despite his constant asks for dates. Which you were okay with, there was something about the way he would grow soft when talking about your pasts, your hopes, and your dreams. You had told yourself that you were so happy with this new friendship you had gotten from this man.

° You two waved goodbye to your parents, long hugs from your mothers, you even getting a deep hug from Leia, "Make sure my boys get home for the holidays will you, Y/N?" You promised that you would physically drag them if you had too. Ben pushed his belongs into your trunk and had packed you both a cooler filled with drinks and bags of chips and slim jims and sweets. You shoved your belongings into the back seat and suddenly you two were both off. It was a two day drive, going straight through. The drive was filled with laughs, staring at the stars on the hood of the car when you stopped to eat or see something cool you were driving past. Picture opportunities that were taken every time there was a chance.

° It was interesting to watch him sleep when it was your turn to drive. To see him curl up on the seat and his black hair fall over his face. He breathed in deep rhythmic motions. He looked almost... innocent. Which you knew that was definitely not the case, but it was almost convincing. In other times when you were in the passenger seat, in a deep sleep, Ben drove slower, making sure not to wake you up. Occasionally, you could feel a phantom hand push some hair out of your face, and in sleep, you would move closer to the touch, fingers grazing over your forehead gently. But the hand would move away, a soft chuckle replacing it.

° "I am sure happy that I have you, Y/N," his voice would be that soft sweet tone he would use when talking about something he cared about.

° 5 days later, you slackers arrived at the college, your hand moving to his shoulder and shaking him awake. Sleepy brown eyes opened and he sat up in the seat, rubbing the sleep away with his large hands while you leaned over the steering wheel to take in the expansive college grounds. It was so green, the buildings aged tan bricks, the windows iridescent with sun stains and years of wear on them. Ben looked uninterested in the buildings until he saw his dorm building he suddenly got excited.

° "Come on, help me move in and scope out your future victims," he teased, making you scowl at him playfully before you pull in and park the car in front of the large building. "Matty is supposed to be in this building too. Maybe you can meet him," Ben stated hopefully. You rose your eyebrows in interest as you pulled out his duffel bagged that he had stuffed all his clothing in and he laughed as he watched you struggle to put the strap over your shoulder but he quickly took it from you and throw it over his shoulder. He picked up pretty much everything except two boxes which you handled as you both climbed the stairs. You watched as men walked past you, your eyes betraying you as some made deliberate eye contact with you. Do men usually walk around with no shirts on like this? You smiled mischeviously at some, but when you turned back around you would see Ben stopped looking you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

° "Honey why don't you ever smile at me like that?" He asked, faking a hurt tone."Shut up, Ben."

° You finally made it to his room number, him opening the door and dropping his stuff down the bed that was in there. There were no other beds or bodies in the room. "You don't have a roomie?" You asked curiously. "Guess not. That's good, that means I don't have to worry about sharing anything with anybody. I can unpack by myself, lets go get your stuff into your dorm," he stated and you smirked.

° "Afraid of what I'll find in those boxes, Benny boy?" He responded in a mysterious whisper, "Shush shush, I have to keep some secrets, Y/N."

° As they walked out of his new room, they heard a small voice come from behind them. "Ben?" Ben turned around and it was like he teleported from his spot next to you to suddenly hugging someone tightly. "Matty! Its good to see you. Damn you're looking thick, son. You been working out?" Ben teased the man he was hugging.

° "Very funny, Ben," the man laughed gently. You peeked around your large friend to see blonde curls but that was all you could make out right then until Ben finally moved away so that you could see the man he was talking to. He looked almost exactly like Ben. Beauty marks scattered his features and he had the same strong nose and full lips. The same brown eyes, but surrounding them were thick glasses. The hair was really throwing you off, but you suddenly recognized the man. You did have classes with him, in fact you remember being partnered on projects with him. He was timid but highly intelligent, a wizz with electronics.

° "Oh Matt, this is Y/N. Kid, this is my brother Matt," Ben introduced his brother politely. Matt looked at you and smiled warmly.

° "I remember Y/N. How have you been?" The man asked politely. You responded with a smile. "Been good, been busy trying to get ready to start."

° "I can understand that. I'm still trying to get the books I need for this year's classes. Speaking of which I am in the middle of finishing some things up, we are still going to dinner tonight right, Ben?" Matt asked his brother, who nodded in earnest. "Yes, Kylo still hasn't answered me about it, but I'll drag him along too."

° "That would be nice, he's been busy with prepping for classes for the professor. Did he tell you that he got that assistant teacher job he was trying to get?" Matt asked and Ben answered with a roll of his eyes. "He didn't even tell me he was trying to do that. Thats okay, I'll catch up with him tonight. Mom wants me to pass along a slap for not calling her on her birthday," Ben stated firmly but clapped Matt on the shoulder, who almost fell over from the sheer force of it. "But Matty, I'll catch up with you later, we have to get Y/N's stuff to her dorm." Matt nodded and Ben moved back over to your side.

° "It was good seeing you, Matt. Hope we can hang out and catch up soon," you stated and Matt looked at Ben confused. But Ben quickly began to lead you away as you smiled warmly at Matt and waved in goodbye. A trip back to the car with you beginning to call out Ben, "I thought you were going exploring tonight, Ben?" You asked curiously, tone sarcastic. It didn't really bother you that he made other plans, but opportunities like this were rare to act like you were pissy with him. "I just hadn't gotten the chance to ask if you if you'd like to hang out with me and my brothers tonight is all! I just wanted to ask you if you'd run interference. Sometimes me and Kylo can get heated when we're together, but if you're there he won't act out." Ben explained, holding all your stuff in his arms and you holding open the door of your dorm building open for him. You lead the way up the stairs as you responded to him. "I can do that. As long as you're buying." He nodded quickly and smiled. "Thanks, kid. I really appreciate it." He dropped your stuff off in your room, and helped you unpack some of your things. It wasn't until you both decided to take a shower after 5 days of straight car ride, it was time to rinse off and get settled in.

°"Meet you at the car at 5:30?" He asked and you nodded with a smile. "Yeah I'll see you then." You shut the door on him as you begin to dig out your shower stuff and get ready to go out. The first brother wasn't bad at all, so you assumed the second brother would be fine as well, despite Ben's worry.

#triplet!matt #triplet!ben #triplet!kylo #triplet!au #college!au #modern!au #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #kylo ren star wars #star wars x reader #star wars #ben solo x reader #ben solo #matt the technician #matt the radar technician #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #kylo x reader

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iamtheicetiger · 6 years

Text

A Change in the Weather // Complete

Characters: Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin, Victor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva Setting: Moscow, Russia, mid April Summary: Yuri and Otabek meet for the first time at an event of Otabek’s. They start off on the wrong foot, but are immediately smitten with each other. Warnings: Smut, language

Yuri:

Yuri Plisetsky did not want to be here.

Leaning against the wall of the record shop, he wore a sullen expression, arms crossed as he surveyed the room. His eyes trailed toward the front window, the line of obsessive fans already out of control, and he fought against an eye roll. The fanaticism of the people in line was something he would never understand. In just over an hour’s time, up-and-coming Otabek Altin would be giving an intimate, acoustic performance for a limited number of fans. Yuri had been invited by Victor Nikiforov, the owner of the record shop and a fellow acquaintance in the music industry (okay, maybe they were friends).

The only reason he had even decided to show up was because Altin would be performing a sold out show at Yuri’s venue that Saturday night. Yuri was the stage manager of the venue, and he supposed that it didn’t hurt to introduce himself to the man beforehand. Of course, he should probably start acting like he actually wanted to be here when Altin decided to show up.

He knew that he needed to start making more of an effort and networking if he ever wanted to truly excel in this industry, as Victor had so kindly pointed out to him many times before. And so, he was here, practically counting down the minutes until he could leave and go back to his apartment.

Yuri’s eyes flickered down to his phone as he checked the time, wondering when Altin was planning on showing up.

Otabek:

Otabek Altin looked down at his phone then back out the window and sighed.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath as he gazed upon row after row of heavy traffic; he had seriously underestimated the population of this city. His heart ached for his home back in Kazakhstan where he didn’t have to worry about the bustling anxiety of cabs and pedestrians flooding the streets. It was always he and his bike. Nothing else mattered, not even his music.

He supposed he should be thankful for his career. Before JJ had taken him to some high-class hipster coffee shop a couple years back and forced him up onto their tiny stage with a shout of, “Sing, dude!”, Otabek had been a mechanic barely making ends meet. Now he was making strides and taking the reins of his life back, and he had honestly never felt so alive.

Except for right now, of course.

The phone in his lap buzzed in a few short, staccato bursts and he picked it up.

>Dude. Where are you? >The line out here is crazy. >I could watch paint dry faster than the speed you’re going.

Otabek groaned. Looking up, he saw his driver gazing at him in the rearview mirror.

“You’re not usually so anxious, Otabek,” the man commented.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got Mila up my ass right now and traffic is at a dead standstill,” Otabek replied shortly. The driver raised his eyebrows but seemingly pretended not to notice the annoyance in Otabek’s words.

“My GPS says we are going to make it there in plenty of time,” the man reassured Otabek. “We are nearly past the worst of the traffic.”

Forty-five minutes later Otabek was ready to pull his hair out.

Yuri:

“You’re doing it again,” Victor sing-songed in his ear, his voice grating on Yuri’s already worn nerves. “Why don’t you try putting a smile on and actually talking to some of the people here? I can introduce you,” he offered.

In return, Yuri’s scowl deepened. “I don’t remember asking for your advice, Victor,” he growled, arms crossing as he glared up at the taller man.

To that Victor just shrugged, giving a short, “Suit yourself,” before he was off to network more. Some days, Yuri wished that he could be more like Victor. It would certainly make things easier in his line of work, but he also didn’t have the patience for it.

Patience was something that he was quickly running out of at the moment, another glance down at his phone telling him that Otabek Altin was very, very late.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, wondering if Altin was even going to make it in time for his set. They were due to start letting fans in the door any minute, and the musician still hadn’t set foot through the door.

Otabek:

“Jesus, where have you been?”

Otabek ignored Mila’s demand as he stepped out of the car to the sound of a few dozen squeals and shouts from his fans. Adjusting his sunglasses, he let himself be ushered inside the venue, not really taking a proper look at anything as he hurried past people he couldn’t name.

“Mr. Altin, hello, we finally meet!” a thickly-accented (and slightly out of breath) voice chimed from somewhere nearby. “I was getting a little worried you might not make it.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, traffic was a nightmare,” Otabek apologized. Mila was still pushing him along, her flaming red hair billowing around both of them in waves.

“Next time find out where you’re going and set aside plenty of time,” she growled as she practically shoved Otabek through an open door. “Get ready. You have five minutes.”

The door slammed shut and Otabek breathed a sigh of relief, pulling the sunglasses off his face.

“You are shorter in person than you appear in your photos, you know,” the same voice from before commented, and Otabek jumped, turning around. He was met with a very tall silver-haired man who certainly knew how to dress to impress. Otabek grimaced.

“I get that a lot,” he admitted, if a little begrudgingly. “I’m sorry, you are?”

“Oh!” the silver-haired man exclaimed. “I am sorry, where are my manners? Victor Nikiforov. I own the establishment.”

“Jesus, sorry,” Otabek said. “And I’m so sorry for being late. I’m not usually like this. I’m just getting used to this whole thing.” He gestured grandly, as if Victor would know what he meant. By the confused look on the other man’s face, he clearly did not. Before Otabek really had a chance to explain himself, or apologize further, or say anything that would make the situation less awkward, the door opened.

A lithe, athletic man (or maybe a girl, it was really hard to say) walked into the room and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, blonde hair hanging in a scowling face in a clear I-don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way.

Otabek had never seen anything more gorgeous in his life.

Yuri:

Yuri had made up his mind: he was just going to sneak out the same way he’d come in, and no one would ever be the wiser. Now he just had to leave without Victor noticing him go, and he would be set. He wasn’t in the mood to wait around for some prissy musician who obviously thought that he was hot shit and that his time was more important than everyone else’s. He’d met enough of those in his lifetime already.

“Ah-ah,” he heard Victor scold in his ear, a hand now grasping his bicep, which was making it rather difficult to make a break for it. He’d been so close: the door was mere feet away, but with his escape thwarted, Yuri stopped, glaring up at the taller man. Victor nodded toward the door, and Yuri’s eyes followed, settling on the car that had just pulled up. Then he heard them: the shrieks of the fangirls who had been standing in line all afternoon, hoping that they would get a chance to see their idol perform. Altin must have finally decided to show up.

“Stay,” Victor insisted, his tone light, yet commanding. “I’ll introduce you.” Yuri deflated slightly, though he kept up his icy facade as Victor rushed off to greet the musician.

Yuri sighed deeply, not entirely even sure of why he was so irritated at the moment. He would stay for five minutes, just long enough to be introduced and appease Victor, and then he would leave.

Altin was ushered away quickly, Victor following closely behind. Yuri knew that Victor had allowed his office to serve as a dressing room for the evening, and he counted to five before he stalked after them toward the office. That asshole better have a good excuse for being late. How dare he keep all of them waiting here like that? Was he going to do the same thing at the show he was playing at Yuri’s venue in a couple of nights? Yuri Plisetsky would be damned if he was going to have that kind of negative press about an event at his arena.

A scowl still set on his face, he pushed open the door to the office with a bit more force than was probably necessary, arms settling across his chest again as he entered the room and leaned against the nearest wall.

“Yuri! I’d like you to meet-” Victor started, but Yuri cut him off with a curt wave of his hand.

“Altin. Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence,” Yuri said, his voice dripping with disdain as he finally took the time to actually look at the musician, and damn, he hadn’t realized how attractive the other man was in person. That doesn’t matter, he reminded himself. Otabek Altin was just another full-of-himself musician. They were all the same. Just because he was hot didn’t mean that he got a free pass for being an asshole.

Victor’s expression faltered only slightly as he shot Yuri a look that very clearly read don’t-be-rude. “He’s joking,” Victor said quickly. laughing as he attempted to ease the tension, his elbow discreetly jabbing into Yuri’s ribs. The stage manager’s eyebrows rose, though he said nothing further as Victor went on to introduce him to the musician.

Otabek:

So it’s a guy, Otabek thought as the man named Yuri spoke. The voice was deep, deeper than Otabek had been expecting for someone Yuri’s size and stature.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Otabek said, raising his hand then immediately putting it back down at an ice-cold green glare. Okay, he knew he’d fucked up being so late. What he didn’t understand was who this guy was and why he was so bothered. A snarky remark was on the tip of his tongue when the door to the office opened again and Mila flew in like a bat out of hell, combing her fingers through Otabek’s hair and brushing his leather jacket off. The look on her face warned Otabek not to say a word.

“You have a room full of adoring fans waiting for you,” she said, as if a pep talk would make Otabek forget how annoyed he was. “Just go out there and do your thing. You’ll do great.”

“Please let me know if you need anything,” Victor added, smiling broadly. Otabek nodded, and as he straightened his jacket and walked to the door, he met Yuri’s eyes.

“Hope you watch,” he murmured as he walked by, cringing when the words came out sounding a lot sexier than he’d intended. What is wrong with me?

Yuri:

A hand came up to shake his, and Yuri just stared at it, Altin immediately putting it back down. He met hard eyes, and he was almost positive that the other was going to say something to challenge him. But then his manager was bursting into the room, and Yuri proceeded to look bored again, looking down as Mila talked to the musician and straightened his hair and jacket.

In a matter of seconds, Altin was preparing to take the stage, and just before the musician walked out of the room, he met Yuri’s eyes. Yuri felt his breath catch as he met the other’s gaze, and he prepared for a sharp comment.

At Altin’s surprising words, Yuri nearly choked, the tone of the man’s voice almost immediately making his blood run south. His mouth opened and closed several times, perhaps to make a snarky comment about how he had a million better things to do than stay and watch Otabek’s set, but all that ended up coming out was a meek, “Planning on it.”

Then Otabek was gone, and Yuri swallowed harshly. He could practically feel Victor’s eyes boring into him, taking in the exchange, and hard eyes turned on the other. “If you say a single word, I’m punching you old man,” Yuri threatened, somewhat relieved when Victor just put up his hands in response.

He stormed out the door, settling into the back of the crowd as Otabek took the stage. The screams were nearly deafening, and though he should be used to them by now, they still made him want to rip his hair out. Still, he nearly was able to ignore him, eyes on the musician on the stage.

Otabek:

Otabek had never been good with being on stage. He would openly admit to anyone who asked that he probably had a good deal of anxiety. When all eyes were on him, he always got thirsty, and his guitar strap bit into his shoulder, and his leg bounced minutely. Never before had he felt confident enough to gaze into the audience, instead always opting to look straight ahead at the wall. But this time was different. As he took the stage to screams and whistles and cries of “I love you, Otabek,” he felt a surge of something go through him - confidence? Pride? He wasn’t really sure. All he knew was that somewhere in the crowd of people, Yuri was watching him. And oh man, that did things to him.

“Hey there, everyone,” Otabek greeted the audience as he took a seat in the provided stool on stage. The crowd cheered wildly, only dying down when Otabek raised a hand. “Sorry to have kept you all waiting.” A few people whistled again. Additional stage lights turned on and Otabek squinted against them. He felt the coolness of sweat on the back of his neck as his eyes scanned the room, looking for a sign of blonde hair.

There, in the back.

Determination to impress Yuri flooded Otabek’s mind and body, and he bent down to pick up his guitar, slinging the strap over his shoulder and resting the instrument comfortably on his thigh.

“Who likes All Time Low?” he asked, and once more the crowed erupted into cheers. He grinned, feeling totally out of character but more sure of himself than he had in a long time, and quieted the throng of people before him. As soon as he strummed the opening chords on his guitar and looked across the room at Yuri, he knew he’d made the right choice.

Yuri:

Lithe hands disappeared into the pockets of his black jeans as Yuri tried to slip back into his usual, apathetic persona. He supposed that he could still leave before the show got started, but he had told Otabek that he would watch him perform, and Yuri was no liar.

Otabek’s eyes seemed to be scanning the crowd, and for a second, Yuri could have sworn that their eyes met from across the room. He swallowed, shaking his head to himself as he realized how asinine that sounded. They had said no more than a handful of words to each other: surely he was just imagining things, and the man didn’t actually care whether or not he had stuck around to watch the performance.

Blue-green eyes attempted once again to feign disinterest, but they lit up immediately when the musician asked the crowd if they liked All Time Low. Though Yuri rarely admitted to being interested in anything, he had chosen a career in music because it was something that captivated him. All Time Low had been one of his favorite bands in his teenage years, so he wasn’t going to complain about listening to someone with Otabek’s level of talent sing a cover of one of their songs.

Otabek:

After a few cover songs and an original that he had been working on for a considerable amount of time, Otabek left the stage for a much-needed break before doing some autographs. Mila practically attacked him as he tried to make his way back to the office where he’d left his belongings.

“Oh my God,” she gushed, almost as bad as one of his fangirls. “You were amazing! They loved you!”

“I hope so,” Otabek replied. His mind kept straying to Yuri, who, true to his word, had watched - the entire time.

“Don’t hope so, know so!” Mila exclaimed. The door to the office appeared as they rounded a corner and Otabek took the liberty of going on in. He sat down with a lengthy sigh, relief coursing through his legs, and looked up at his manager.

“I did what I always do,” he said. “I wake up, I sing, and that’s it. It’s not like I did something special.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mila demanded incredulously, glaring down at a shocked Otabek. “You were on fire. You have never performed like that, Otabek. Never.” She sat down, as if meeting him at eye level would convince Otabek that she was totally serious. “For real,” she continued. “You were different this time. You smiled. I’ve never seen you look so happy while performing.” She paused. “Was it because of that thing earlier, with that Yuri guy?”

“What? No!” Otabek denied swiftly. “Why would I do anything differently for him? He was an asshole.” Externally, Otabek wore a frown, his eyebrows knitted together; internally, he cringed at the harsh review he’d just given Yuri. He wasn’t about to admit it to Mila, but he could feel something inside him stirring at the thought of seeing Yuri again.

“Otabek,” Mila started, but just as she spoke, the door swung open forcefully.

Yuri:

Otabek’s performance had been captivating from start to finish, and Yuri’s earlier anger at the musician having been so late quickly dissipated. Just five minutes before, he’d had one foot out the door, ready to go home, and now he couldn’t imagine leaving. Of course, he had vaguely heard the man’s music before he had booked him at his own venue, but he hadn’t remembered it sounding quite this good. Yuri wasn’t sure if something was different, if Otabek had gotten better since he’d last taken a listen, or if he just hadn’t been listening hard enough before.

All too soon, the set was ending, and Yuri found himself pausing instead of exiting the building. He should leave. There was no reason for him to stay.

Though he knew that he should just leave, that he should fight the desperate urge to follow after Otabek back into Victor’s office, his feet were moving in the opposite direction practically on their own accord. He had been a jerk earlier, and he doubted that the musician would want to see him while coming down from the high of giving such an incredible performance.

They didn’t even know each other, but Yuri found himself drawn to the other man, and he didn’t know what to make of that.

Before he could allow himself to think too hard and talk himself out of it, he was slamming open the door to the office, eyes searching for Otabek but landing on his manager, Mila. He opened his mouth, looking very much like a deer in headlights, because he knew he shouldn’t have come.

Yuri stepped backward as though to excuse the interruption, but not before he was saying, “Not bad, Altin.”

Otabek:

Otabek opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to articulate everything he wanted to say. “Uh, thanks,” he ended up supplying, then quickly followed with, “Wait, sorry, come on in.” Fuck, what am I doing? Otabek mentally berated himself. First he acts like a total asshole, then he watches my entire set, then he tells me “not bad?” Bigtime mixed signals from this guy. And why the fuck does he look like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t do? I-

“Ah, Otabek!” a voice interrupted Otabek’s thoughts. Looking up, he watched Victor scoot past Yuri and into the office without so much as a word. “You did wonderful, really. Your fans seem to love you.”

“Oh, thanks,” Otabek stammered. His eyes darted past Victor and over to Yuri, seeking his gaze, but the blonde was not looking at him.

“I hope you still plan to stay for autographs,” Victor continued, not seeming to notice that Otabek’s attention was far from him. “Not meeting the basic demands of the fans can ruin an artist in the blink of an eye.”

Otabek was pretty sure that Victor was still talking, but he had tuned everything out. Distantly, he heard Mila assure Victor that they were planning to stay for a short autograph signing. Good, he thought. Maybe Yuri will stay.

And that was when Otabek Altin realized that he totally had a thing for Yuri.

Yuri:

Then Yuri heard Victor’s voice, but his eyes stayed on Otabek. The musician had seemed flustered by what Yuri had said, and that was certainly interesting. He still had one foot out of the office, however, still unsure of what exactly he was doing there. Between Otabek’s manager and now Victor being in the room as well, he wanted to slink away and pretend he’d never come. He had no reason to be there, not really.

But he was there because Otabek intrigued him. His voice, his look, the way his eyes had lit up as he’d strummed his guitar…Yuri tuned out the background noise as he lost himself in his thoughts, the other three talking about signing autographs while his eyes stayed locked on Otabek.

Yuri didn’t do friends. He really didn’t even do hookups: didn’t have the want or the need for them, not usually. But Otabek…Otabek, he wanted. And Yuri always got what he wanted.

Gone was the hesitation as Yuri stepped back into the room. He leaned against the wall lazily, eyes never leaving the musician. Now he just had to get rid of everyone else and get the man alone to see if he even had a shot after all of the mixed signals he had been sending all night.

Otabek:

Yuri had just entered the room when Mila’s phone buzzed loudly in the middle of the chatter. She rushed to grab it, fumbling a little in her hurry.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I really have to take this,” she excused herself, then trotted out of the room. Otabek watched her leave, feeling fairly awkward and knowing that without Mila he would have to engage in some sort of conversation. He looked up at Victor, who had also taken out his phone. His fingers tapped madly on the screen for a few seconds, then he smiled down at the device.

“My husband, the joker,” he chuckled merrily. Otabek blinked. So Victor is gay, he thought. For some reason, he found that interesting. He was about to ask a polite question about Victor’s husband to ease the growing tension in the room (that Victor seemed to be totally unaware of) when Mila’s head appeared in the doorway.

“Otabek, I’m sorry, I have to make a few phone calls,” she apologized. “Will you be okay doing the signing without me there?”

Otabek thought of telling her that no, he wouldn’t be fine, and that he was in total danger of making himself look like a fool in front of Yuri, but decided against it and nodded. “Take your time,” he acceded. Mila smiled and rushed away. A few seconds later, Victor put his phone away and clapped his hands together.

“I should really go check on everything and make sure the autograph table is ready,” he announced. “Yuri, care to join?”

Otabek’s heart leapt a little and his glance darted over to the blonde who was leaning against the wall again. Stay, he willed the other man silently.

Yuri:

At the comment from Victor, Yuri found himself rolling his eyes again. He didn’t hate Yuri Katsuki, but he did often find the pair practically nauseating. He would have made a comment, but he didn’t feel like talking to Victor right now. Otabek’s manager was gone, seemingly for good. Now he just needed to get rid of Victor.

His saving grace came in the form of Victor asking him to join in checking on the autograph table. There was no way that he was going to do that.

He felt Otabek’s eyes on him. “Can’t,” Yuri said shortly, making a show of glancing down at his phone, as though something had come up. “I actually have to go. Better things to do,” he said with a shrug. Better things to do, indeed.

Victor look as though he was going to ask questions and Yuri shot him a hard look. Victor, don’t ask questions. Just leave, he willed, knowing that there was still the chance that this would backfire on him. Hopefully the old man wouldn’t insist on seeing him out. Of course, if he did, Yuri would just make up another lie. He wasn’t leaving this building until he at least got a few moments alone with Otabek.

Otabek:

Otabek saw the confusion in Victor’s face as Yuri claimed that he “had better things to do” than help with autograph setup. He politely pretended not to notice the silent exchange between the two of them under the pretense of brushing off his jacket, but his ears strained for any sign of communication.

“Alright,” Victor said slowly. “I’ll see you in a few days, Yuri. I’m sure you can see yourself out.” Turning to Otabek, he smiled. “I will return once everything is ready.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Otabek answered. Victor exited the room, but not before he gave Yuri one more lingering look.

Then it was just the two of them.

Otabek’s heart pounded wildly in his chest, jumping halfway up his throat. He looked down at his lap, not sure if he could even look back up at Yuri. Then again, he wasn’t even sure if Yuri was still there; if he was, he was very quiet. After a few moments of hesitation, Otabek dared a glance up at the blonde.

Yuri:

After a slightly tense moment, Victor allowed the lie, albeit reluctantly. “Yeah, see you then,” Yuri said, nodding at the other before Victor was finally leaving.

Now that everyone was gone and they were alone, Otabek seemed to be the one who looked uncomfortable, his eyes on anything but the blonde. Yuri, however, was finally in his element now that he was out from under everyone else’s watchful eye. Otabek didn’t make him nervous, but everyone else who had potentially been judging him sure did.

His confidence back, he sauntered over to the musician, though he still didn’t speak. By the time Otabek’s eyes were rising to meet his, Yuri was right in front of him.

He wasn’t sure how long they had. He couldn’t imagine that Victor would take too long in preparing the autograph area, and Yuri needed to either be gone or hidden by the time he got back.

Otabek:

Otabek started when he looked up, realizing that Yuri had very silently approached him. Their eyes met, Otabek’s chocolate brown against Yuri’s bright green, and froze there. The moment stretched into what felt like years, and Otabek felt his control slipping away bit by bit until, much to his own surprise, he was practically diving across the table at Yuri. Their lips crashed together and Otabek threaded a hand through Yuri’s hair, and God, it was so soft. His other hand found its way to Yuri’s lower back and pulled the blonde’s body against his until they were flush together. Otabek let out an open-mouthed moan against Yuri’s lips as he canted his hips forward. His mind screamed at him to stop, stop, what the fuck are you doing, but Otabek ignored it. He couldn’t stop now. Yuri was like a drug, and he needed more.

Yuri:

The tension between the two was palpable, and Yuri had just opened his mouth to speak when he felt lips collide with his own, and he let out an embarrassing squeak of surprise. He had been planning on kissing Otabek, and the musician had surprised him by making the first move, especially with how long he had avoided even looking at him.

Then he was being pulled until their bodies were pressed together, and Yuri exhaled deeply, his brain finally catching up enough to respond to the kiss. His arms wove around Otabek’s neck as his lips parted, and then jesus christ, the musician was moaning against his lips, his hips pressing forward, and he was already absolutely wrecking Yuri.

He let out another gasp of surprise, his hands trailing slowly down Otabek’s chest before they were resting at his hips. He gave an experimental roll of his own hips, his tongue pressing forcefully into the musician’s mouth as he tried to take back some sort of control.

Otabek:

Much to Otabek’s relief, Yuri seemingly wanted him just as much as he wanted Yuri. His mind registered on everything Yuri was doing: the way Yuri’s arms felt around the back of his neck before they slid down to his hips, the softness of those lips that seemed to be constantly frozen into a pout, and especially the hardening outline of Yuri’s cock as his hips pressed against Otabek’s. It was heaven on earth. Then Yuri’s tongue swept into Otabek’s mouth in a clear play for dominance and Otabek growled, matching Yuri’s roughness with his own tongue.

The kiss went on for what could’ve been anywhere from a few seconds to a lifetime. Otabek was lost in Yuri’s mouth and his body was making decisions without consulting his brain first. Before he knew it, he was tugging at the hem of Yuri’s pants and shoving his hand down the front of them. As his fingers wrapped around Yuri’s cock, he thought he could probably come right that very moment.

Yuri:

Yuri would have been perfectly content to continue grinding against the musician until he was a writhing mess, but Otabek kept surprising him, seemingly determined to take back the upper hand, and Yuri hadn’t expected for him to be so bold. Fingers wrapped confidently around his now fully erect cock, and Yuri tore away from the kiss to let out a string of curse words, his head falling forward and his hips rolling on their own accord.

His grip on Otabek’s hips tightened, blunt fingernails digging into the fabric of the other man’s clothing. “Fuck,” he breathed again, trying to get ahold of himself so that he didn’t come in his pants like a thirteen year old. One hand moved up to grasp at Otabek’s cheek as he pulled him back into another scorching kiss, a low moan tearing from his lips.

Otabek:

Christ, Otabek thought as Yuri cursed and bucked his hips towards the fingers around his cock. His thumbs pressed into Otabek’s hips a little harder and Otabek felt the blunt pain of fingernails.

Then Yuri cursed again, voice breathy; a hand rose to Otabek’s cheek and pulled him into another kiss, and fuck, it was so good. He swallowed Yuri’s low moan and couldn’t help it when a sound very much like a growl clawed its way out of his throat. His cock pressed almost painfully against the front of his pants, begging for Yuri’s touch, while his fingers began a steady rhythm of up, down, up. The angle, however, was proving to be exceedingly difficult. Yuri’s pants were practically painted to his body, effectively making it damn near impossible for Otabek to move his hand inside them. He swore, yanking his hand out of Yuri’s jeans only to forcefully push them down a few inches. Without breaking the kiss he gripped Yuri’s now-free length again and resumed his methodical pattern.

Yuri:

Despite Otabek’s best efforts, the friction just wasn’t enough, Yuri’s pants too tight for the musician to move much. Yuri whined when Otabek extracted his hand, but he was rewarded a moment later when the other tugged his jeans down, taking a shuddering breath as the man began to jerk him off in earnest. He had the half formed thought that he should probably be reciprocating the favor, but he was too concentrated on how good Otabek’s hand felt, and he was content to be a selfish lover for a bit longer.

Yuri continued to buck his hips into Otabek’s fist, every stroke driving him closer and closer to the edge. He took the musician’s lower lip between his teeth, biting lightly and attempting to ground himself as his hands finally moved lower. Yuri palmed at Otabek’s cock over his pants, moaning into the brunette’s mouth when he felt how hard he was for him.

Otabek:

Oh fuck, oh, fuck.

It was like Yuri could read his mind. The blonde groped at Otabek’s cock through his pants, captured Otabek’s lower lip in a gentle bite that nearly had him blowing his load right then. He turned his head, slanting his mouth over Yuri’s a little easier, giving himself better access. He licked into Yuri’s mouth, simultaneously speeding his hand up. Vaguely, Otabek remembered that Victor had promised to return, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember why. He was rooted in the moment.

“Do you like that?” he murmured to Yuri, breaking the kiss. Fisting a hand into Yuri’s hair, he pulled to one side, baring the blonde’s neck. Slowly, he began kissing down the creamy expanse, pausing over the pulse point to nibble at the delicate skin there. On each upward stroke of his hand on Yuri’s cock he swiped his thumb over the sensitive head. “Are you going to come for me?”

Yuri:

Yuri swallowed harshly when Otabek pulled away to murmur into his ear, his mouth falling open when he felt the hand tugging in his hair, lips now attached to his neck. “God, yes,” he breathed, the hand on Otabek’s crotch stuttering as Yuri was consumed by his own pleasure once again. He was wrecked, little, breathy moans falling from his lips, and there was no way he could concentrate on reciprocating right now. After he came, he would give Otabek the best damn blowjob he’d ever gotten in his life.

At this point, he had completely given up control to the musician, was completely at the other’s mercy. “You’re gonna make my come, I’m so close,” Yuri damn near whined, unable to find it within himself to be embarrassed right now.

One, two, three more strokes of Otabek’s hand, and Yuri was coming hard, Otabek’s name on his lips just as the door to the office burst open.

Otabek:

“Yuri?!” a voice nearly screeched from the open doorway.

Oh, fuck. Yeah, it was Victor. Everything came flooding back to Otabek: the set he’d just finished, the short break he was supposed to be taking, the autograph signing. Oh fuck, the autograph signing. Looking down, his heart gave a nasty little lurch at the state of things. His hand, and his shirt, and his jacket, and part of his pants were covered in Yuri’s come. Even worse, Otabek’s fingers were still wrapped around Yuri’s cock as the blonde rode out his orgasm. Well, there was no turning back now. Everything was pretty incriminating. Otabek dared a glance back up at Victor and wished he hadn’t: the man’s face had turned an angry shade of red and he looked like he had murder in his eyes.

“I did not realize you were this kind of person, Mr. Altin,” Victor spat. “You have disrespected my hospitality too many times today. First you are embarrassingly late, and now you seduce my friend who, for the record, does not even like you?” He scoffed. “Mr. Altin, I will be informing your fans that you are unable to attend the autograph signing. Please gather your things and leave.” Victor turned to Yuri. “And I expected better of you,” he growled, then whirled on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Otabek grimaced. “I’m sorry,” he muttered to Yuri. He released Yuri’s softening cock from his grip and once more looked down at his clothes. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Is there a bathroom nearby?”

Yuri:

Yuri’s eyes flew open when he heard Victor’s voice, his cheeks immediately burning when he realized that they had been caught. This hadn’t been the plan. The plan had been to seduce Otabek into coming back to his apartment with him for the night. Yuri coming all over Otabek and not even getting the musician off in return definitely hadn’t been the plan, and Victor catching them in the act was the icing on the cake.

Then Victor was launching into a lecture while Otabek’s hand was still wrapped around Yuri’s cock, scolding both of them as though they were children, and Yuri was starting to see red. Just as soon as he had come in, however, Victor was slamming the door and leaving, Yuri standing there attempting to process what had just happened with a scowl on his face.

He tucked himself back into his jeans, shaking his head when Otabek apologized. “No, I’m sorry,” he insisted, rummaging around for a towel and tossing it in the musician’s direction. Yuri looked positively murderous, but he wanted to help Otabek before he went off to give Victor a piece of his mind. He took his own jacket off, handing it to the brunette as he muttered, “I can’t help you fix the pants, but you can have this.” At least Otabek’s pants were dark, so that shouldn’t be noticed. “The bathroom is right next door to this office.”

Unable to meet Otabek’s eyes, Yuri stomped out of the office, intent on finding Victor. He knew right where to look, and he grabbed Victor’s shoulder hard, whirling him around. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarled, face flushed as he forced himself not to deck Victor right now. “Why have you still not learned how to knock?”

Otabek:

“Goddammit,” Otabek grumped to nobody in particular as he entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He leaned against the sink, both arms resting on the bowl, as he finally attempted to process what had just happened.

Okay, so Yuri liked him. Or, according to Victor, Yuri didn’t like him. Lines seemed to be getting blurred, and at that point Otabek wasn’t even sure of his own feelings towards Yuri. He had never done anything so risky in his life, and while anything beyond the excitement of riding his motorcycle down a two-lane road had never particularly appealed to him, Otabek couldn’t deny that the adrenaline rush he got from jerking Yuri off in a semi-public room was intoxicating.

“Shit, shit shit shit,” he whispered, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. It was going to be fine. He would get through the embarrassment soon enough.

“Why should I have to knock if it’s my office, Yuri?” Otabek heard Victor demand loudly from somewhere in the near vicinity of the bathroom. His heart jumped; he had a bad feeling that he was about to hear a lot more than he cared to.

“And anyways, I thought you loathed him. You couldn’t stop griping about him before he arrived. What has gotten into you?”

Jesus, Otabek thought. Victor seemed like such a nice guy.

“If you have any common sense whatsoever, you’ll cancel the show he booked at your venue, sold out or not,” Victor continued, and Otabek’s heart skipped a few beats. His mind flitted through all the shows he had booked for the next few months; he and Mila had been working hard to get him into more well-known places. Had he booked with Yuri without even realizing it?

His heart pounded painfully in his chest, ears straining to hear what Yuri was going to say next.

Yuri:

“Your office that you offered up as a dressing room for him!” Yuri exploded, hard eyes still locked on Victor as the other man tore out of his grip. The blonde’s hands were clenched at his sides, as he once again reminded himself that putting his fist through Victor’s face wasn’t going to do anyone any good.

“I was just pissed that he was late. You knew that I didn’t want to come to this stupid thing anyway, and you practically forced me to!” he snapped, striding forward so that he was once again in Victor’s space. He was completely furious with the man. Victor was treating him like a child, and where did he get off judging him for this? “What has gotten into me? He’s hot. What the hell business is it of yours who I hook up with?”

Otabek was hot, but that wasn’t why Yuri had sought him out. He dealt with plenty of attractive musicians in his line of business. Something about this musician was intriguing to Yuri, but he hadn’t quite figured his feelings out yet. Yuri didn’t really want to figure out his feelings, and he certainly didn’t want to have to explain them to Victor of all people.

He threw his hands in the air in frustration at Victor’s next words. “Why in the fuck would I cancel a sold out show, Victor? Why do you care so much? You’re being fucking ridiculous.”

Otabek:

“I offered it as a dressing room, Yuri, not a place to have sex,” Victor hissed. “And I did not ‘practically force’ you to come here, I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet the musician who will be playing a sold out show at your place in a few days. I didn’t realize you would have to fuck him in order to get to know him.”

Otabek could feel tears welling up in his eyes, and he wasn’t really sure why. Maybe it was his currently unresolved and mysterious feelings towards Yuri, or perhaps it was that he seemed to be ruining the friendship between Yuri and Victor without even trying. Either way, he needed to get out of there. Fast. Without taking a second to think through how he was going to handle the situation while maintaining even a shred of dignity, Otabek opened the door and emerged into the hallway.

Victor’s head whipped around to glare at him. “I thought I told you to leave,” he snarled vehemently. Otabek raised his hands in the universal sign of peace.

“I was just cleaning up,” he said, feeling a blush creep onto his cheeks when he remembered the reason he had to clean up in the first place. Turning to Yuri, he mouthed, “I’m sorry,” again, then turned and strode away. He could practically feel Victor’s gaze scrutinizing him as he walked, but he ignored it.

“Otabek!” Mila exclaimed as he exited the venue, removing her phone from next to her ear and covering the receiver. “What are you doing? What about the auto-”

“We have to go, Mila, now,” Otabek cut his manager off.

“What?” she questioned flatly, looking bewildered. “What happened?”

“Not now,” Otabek fielded the question. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

Otabek didn’t give his driver a chance to come to a complete stop before he opened the door and slid in. Mila followed suit, apologizing to whoever she was on a call with and promising them that she would call back shortly. The car pulled into traffic.

“So,” Mila started after a few moments. “What happened?”

Otabek sighed deeply, leaning his elbow against the door and resting his face in his hand. “I jerked Yuri off,” he said quietly, fully expecting Mila to explode in a fit of rage. Instead, she was very silent, which was almost worse. Otabek didn’t know how he could apologize to her enough to assuage the situation, so he just waited for her to respond. A few minutes passed with him staring out the window, unable to even glance in Mila’s direction, while she seemed engrossed in her phone. Finally, she spoke.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” Otabek answered. “After you walked out of the office, Victor left to make sure everything was fine, and it just…happened.” It was a poor explanation of what was probably one of the best things to ever happen to Otabek, but he couldn’t find it in himself to describe the situation with any grace. Mila sighed emphatically.

“Do I have to do damage control?” she asked tightly. Otabek shrugged, feeling like a small child who had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He could see Mila turn to look at him in the reflection in the window. “Otabek, this is totally uncharacteristic of you,” she chided gently. “You told me none of your behavior had anything to do with Yuri, and now here we are.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “You can’t seriously expect to be able to go to his venue, can you?” she asked. “What if this gets out to your fans? What if this gets out to the press? Your career will be over, Otabek. Do you understand me? Over.”

Otabek finally turned to look at Mila. “I will be doing that show, because Yuri will not tell anyone, and Victor is too embarrassed to say anything.”

“What?” Mila nearly shrieked. Otabek winced. “Victor knows?”

“Yeah,” Otabek said. “He’s kinda the one who caught us.”

If Otabek thought the beginning half of the ride back to the hotel was bad, he had been severely mistaken.

Yuri:

Yuri’s mouth fell open at Victor’s words. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean…” he tried, but he was too flustered now to get any words out. He didn’t have to fuck him in order to get to know him, but it definitely hadn’t been unwelcome.

Then he heard the bathroom door open, almost having forgotten that he’d told Otabek that he could go clean up in there. His eyes flickered over toward the other, a light blush coloring his cheeks again, but he turned back to glare at Victor when he yelled at Otabek, the musician looking meek as he put his hands up in defeat before making his exit.

“Otabek,” Yuri started, but the musician was out the door before he could say anything more. Now Otabek was gone, and Yuri hadn’t even gotten to slip him his number, all because Victor was being insane. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for all of this. He should have just left the office when he’d had the chance, and none of this would have ever happened. Even though Otabek ultimately was the one who kissed him first, he knew that he had instigated the entire thing to begin with.

Yuri turned and rounded again on Victor angrily, pointing at him and jabbing him in the chest. “I hate you. So much,” he spat out slowly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I seduced him. He didn’t do anything wrong. I knew what I was doing.”

He was practically shaking with anger at this point, knowing that he needed to get out of here before he did something he regretted. “Fuck you, Victor,” he muttered before he was turning to leave, grabbing his keys out of his pocket as he walked to his car.

Yuri sped home, making record time, though he knew he was just going to spend the remainder of the night fuming. Sighing deeply, he grabbed his cat before padding to his bedroom, confident that thoughts of Otabek were going to be on his mind all night.

#otayuri #otayuri rp #yuri plisetsky rp #otabek altin rp #para #p:acitw

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

These boys.

Matt said he wanted his tree to go first but I didn't. So, I told him to tell me in my head

Then i told him he cheated he had to say it out his mouth.

Wonder why our trees play pranks? Don't.

So Barbarian Frankenstein couldn't handle not having me or that his soulmate was dead. So he claimed his dad made his tree and he was just claiming the rest of the techs for him Because he was busy.

Matt and him got into it because barbarian Frankenstein totally slipped up.

Anyways so tonight Matt's tree got the huge Sahara job by himself

And it's the only one I've told to grow plants.

And so this little mastermind...

Played them all!!

Matthew says hes fucking embarrassed.

Tom tells me "well played" and that "his face is so red he looks like a pickle"

BF: I would never imagined she would done that. Sent me first to save Matt. But it's cause she thinks you're weak you know that.

Me: i thought he went with the tree and didn't want him to get hurt. I knew he was my soulmate.

Tom: busted!

BF: oh you know you are too fun! But thank you. I still get to be the American hero and you're the chump

Me: he's the gardner

BF: oh my bad he gardens with tender hands

Me: like your abe Lincoln one.

BF: well shit fuck I got nothing to say. Except I got my woman at my house.

Matt: I don't get into piddly shit with tots.

Me: that was the wrong time to say that.

Matt: I didn't mean you i meant him

Me: I know but it didn't look right typed.

BF: is that why you don't talk? Because you don't know how

Matt: because the truth hurts and I'm not gonna hurt you just because you're being a sore loser

BF: Uh okay I get to go first and you get to garden.

Me: let me review my typing. Please hold your tongue. See. First barbarian Frankenstein you lied to every one. Then you attacked Matt in multiple ways. So it seems you're a control freak bully, sir.

BF: So I'll go with being red faced there's nothing wrong with being embarrassed in comparison to what I've said.

Matt: there bravo. Thats a good man

Me: he's being sincere

BF: Tom don't laugh

Tom doesn't obey the control freak bully

And Barbarian Frankenstein offers hugs to every one including Matt who accepts. I don't. My back hurts.

Edit: in 2008 they had the same fight but i didn't say anything. Neither did Matt. Barbarian just kept making me madder and madder. So for 1 hour and 42 minutes it went on until Saint Luches said "we don't have to let this continue" and finally I let my tears fall.

So Saint Luches tried to talk to the Barbarian who just yelled back "I'm not!!" So Saint Luches punched his jaw and walked away.

I told matt to come on about it and he told us two to go first because it was him Barbarian wanted to fight.

So he fucking tackled him from behind and pinned him down and said all kinds shit and Matt spit in his face and Saint Luches kicked him off Matt and pulled him up but he was knocked out so i went and slapped him around a bit and told him let's go.

So then I took him to the bedroom. Stripped him down told him not to move on the bed. Said "im sorry I don't know what else to say or do. But that was so goddam sexy while I ripped off my clothes" inside he screamed i was crazy.

But when I said "cant you get up, come on let's fuck" he understood i was crazy about him

A few strokes later the bedroom door swung open and the Barbarian bellows "I thought I won!!"

Saint Luches and Roger are trying to pull him back out of the room "nope! Don't apologize!!"

Barbarian breaks free "Sabrina you don't need to hold your tits I've seen them before"

Matt tells him he can get a real good look if he got closer. Matt hit him in the head witha pillow 2 times soft. While barbarian annoyed me with his face parallel to my tits so I elbowed it down and away which was perfect for Matt to knock out punch him then throw me to the side before thr Barbarian slammed into me.

So we went on the other side of the bed on the floor to fuck.

And Saint Luches said "explain to me why h3 didn't win for Pete's sake"

"Who's Pete?" Im fucking my man but I can hold a conversation

"Just people in general"

"Because Matt actually cared about me. Thats why we sat out there so long and let him ramble on because first i got really mad but i noticed Matt didn't care. Like he thought it was funny. So then it started to hurt my heart because it was so bad. Like i didn't want him on the planet anymore and so Matt told me to chill"

"But he didn't say anything!!!" Barbarian was looking under the bed at Matt's Dick being rode hard.

"Uhm yes he did you doofus! But you didn't listen and think you were king of nothing!!"

"You!!!" He looked up over the bed at my face then back down under the bed to see sex

"Oh you wanna look at his Dick?!? You really wanna see how big it is?!?!" I got onto my feet and raised myself real high a few times nice and slow.

"YOU NEED TO QUIT!!!!"

"You need to fuck off. You can fuck yourself you know that. I can't. Neither can he"

"How much is he paying you? I got money. Come see me next!" And he threw $3,000 in the bed and walked out.

"Im keeping it but I ain't fucking you. You can fuck yourself im taking it as apology money that I'm not a hermaphrodite!!!"

So the next day... Matt always sat on this ledge in the Adobe wall outside... And the Jesse's liked to sit there too So they would share sitting or get down if they wanted to lay down.

And Barbarian went and punched Matt in the face and his head cracked open on the wall behind. But there was cactus and I wasnt going over there so tree fixed him and slapped barbarian then punched him in the stomach and used a pressure point to,make him pass out and told us to go in and lock the door.

So we did.

Then we had a nap and lunch and then matt on top sex and guess which sexual intercourse police man walked in. Barbarian. So I threw Matt off me and walked up the the barbarian who thought he had an award. Shoved him out the door, closed it as the barbarian screamed "WHAT?!?!?" and had Matt help me push the bed against the door and the dresser against the bathroom door which had a lock.

We stayed that way for 3 days after sneaking off to buy a cooler with ice and food while my 4 year old daughter camped with Dan. Declan and Sara's kids and 2 of Declan's assumed cousins at the lake.

Sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

But Matt didn't fight back. But he comforted me with body language and all as he saw my emotional face.

That was more of a man to me than someone who could use mean words to show his favor.

Sure it may look like i don't want Matt to get hurt makes me think hes weak. But i have a heart condition and i need someone who can pay attention to that by me when there's crazy going on. Not look at a tree that is symbolic of him and make the intensity worse.

This shit is scary. Its sad. It's not healthy for me.

So I need someone paying attention to what's inside me, like Matt does.

I love the Barbarian. I do. But hes not my soulmate. Pure and simple.

And Matt always forgives him Because Matt understands him. But Matt will fight him when Matt feels it's appropriate.

But sometimes his attitude hurts me too much and makes me too sad that it's hard to forgive and forget right away.

And Matt will defend me that I don't want him around.

And apparently y'all all seen a whole show the other night on TV.

0 notes

doodlingadventures · 7 years

Text

Paperwork was boring

Ehhh, so this is a fic. Not the one I previewed, I got frustrated with that one and I completed this.... ( If you have been following me for a while you’ll have already noticed that I have serious problems of focus so.. no big surprise)

I just wanted them to be happy for 5 minutes. This is the result. It’s probably very weird. Dunno, the original tittle when I started writting it this summer was “Taran Zhu writes a torrid novel”

You can imagine.

(Unedited, Hookie read it a bit and encouraged me)

3045 words. NSFW. Tyrajin = Vol’jin/Tyrathan. Kind of AUish. Sorry if you find it OOC- ish, feel free to give your opinion.

Paperwork was boring, alright.

And tedious.

And... he was losing track again.

Vol’jin rubbed his eyes for a second and then sighed. Just a few more things and he would be finished for the aftern… Night. It was night already.

Another sigh, and the Troll let his eyes wander around the Pandaren room a bit. Sparse as the rest of the monastery, of course, but not unwelcoming. Vol’jin felt lucky that he could come here again; to see that it had been reconstructed, and to watch new and old recruits of the Shadopan practice on its grounds once more filled him with both relief and joy.

He was there with the excuse of mending the affronts of the previous Warchief against Pandaria, to speak to her leaders, mostly Taran Zhu, and debate other matters. Of course it also served as a much needed change of air after too much time spent inside Grommash hold, and as a way of seeing some friends, Chen, Yalia… Tyrathan.

The hunter was currently sitting on a simple bench across the room, concentrated on his own business, which was doing some maintenance on his weapons it seemed, but in the most silent manner. After… everything, this was one of the few ways they could still see each other, and Vol’jin had to be thankful to Taran Zhu for allowing them this little haven. Of course the elder Monk had no reason to oppose to it since Vol’jin DID work on the reasons which brought him there (and there was a strange hint of glee in his eyes when asked about the matter), but still.

The Shadowhunter sighed once more and resumed working on the files scattered across the table. Saurfang was perfectly capable of handling Orgrimmar while he wasn’t there, and so was Vanira with the Darkspears, but the goddamn paperwork… That was his responsibility, AND he would get them done. Thankfully his companion had been patient with…

At that moment Vol’jin felt a light touch on his knee, and it snapped him out of his train of thought. Tearing his eyes away from the papers, the shadowhunter saw Tyrathan Khort kneeling calmly between his legs, his hands placed on the interior of his thighs and the left side of his face resting against the bare blue skin.

The Troll looked at his human, taken aback for a few seconds. The man simply offered him a quiet smile, his right hand slowly caressing the way up from his knee, almost to his groin, then the way back while his eyes looked straight into Vol’jin’s . - Oh, don’t mind me, keep working - he said, looking perfectly comfortable where he was.

-... - The troll opened his mouth, but said nothing in the end, going back to his papers and trying to focus on them, even if the hand traveling the way up his thigh was the most distracting sensation, these had to be finished...

Not even a minute later, Vol’jin felt the touch of a pair of lips kissing the inside of his thigh. He tried to remain still, watching how the human kissed a slow trail up, each wet touch of his mouth against the blue skin accompanied by a warm breath that sent shivers right up to the Darkspear’s spine. The Troll unconsciously fisted his hands over the table, feeling the face of the hunter come closer to his groin with each kiss, to a point where his nose almost brushed his (tightening) underwear. But the man stopped right there, opening his mouth a bit more to bite into the thigh’s soft flesh.

It wasn’t a hard bite, with his teeth the human couldn’t have pierced his skin even if he had tried, but the sensation made Vol’jin’s leg twitch nonetheless, a shaky gasp escaping him.

-Tyrathan - he muttered while watching the man move from one thigh to the other. The hunter looked up at him, perfectly calm when he sucked on the flesh of the opposite leg and let go with a wet pop. Both knew that would become a very visible mark.

-Yes? - He may have separated his mouth from the other’s thigh, but he kept his fingers traveling back and forth through their flesh.

-What be ya doin’? - Vol’jin had tried to not sound like he was out of breath, but he was clearly failing.

Tyrathan raised and eyebrow - what does it look like?

-Ya know dat be not what I ...- The man chose that moment to dig his fingers in the blue skin while he was still trailing them up, efficiently interrupting his friend.

Learning how sensitive Vol’jin thighs were had truly been a joy.

-You couldn’t have noticed, you have been too busy, but at this hour everybody is either occupied with finishing their training, their chores, or getting ready to prepare dinner - he went back to the unattended thigh in that moment, planting a kiss right beside his first mark - even Taran Zhu is going to stay at one part of the monastery for a good while. - The man felt how Vol’jin’s legs had started to slightly tremble under his attentions, and he couldn't help but smile - also, you looked like you needed a break.

-Ya be keepin’ track of everytin’ huh? - the Troll managed to say. He was almost bending in half over Tyrathan, elbows supporting his weight on the border of the provisional desk as he tried to keep his cool, which was becoming harder each time the man kissed, caressed, scratched or bit the flesh of his thighs, always coming dangerously close to his crotch, but never actually going beyond the clothing.

By the time the hunter decided to undo and remove the garments that formed the Troll’s “belt” and half-of-a-skirt, minutes later, his thighs were covered in marks of bites and scratches, and shaking from the overstimulation. When the man ran his hands from his knees to almost his waist once more, Vol’jin inhaled sharply and his legs jumped, nails scratching the desk’s surface - T...Tyrathan, please.

-Hush - was the human’s response while he moved his hands the way back - you promised me I could take my time with this and you wouldn't touch, remember?

-I be promisin’ ya, but - his own shaky gasp interrupted him when the man bit, quite hard, a part of the skin that was still unmarked - but dis... be... torture. Ya be takin’ too...long.

-Even if I had all the night, I don’t think that would be enough time to enjoy these - he said, kissing the reddening mark.

Vol’jin pressed his forehead against the wood of the table, toes curling on the stone floor - Ya be havin’ the weirdest fixation with my thighs, huma...

Tyrathan actually smacked, although not very hard, the Troll’s thigh. It caught his friend by surprise - You walk around in this… poor excuse for an armor, even in this weather, and then you get surprised when they get my attention? It’s not fixation, it’s honest to the Light curiosity.

-There be nothin’ wron’ wit my clothing. - The man could perfectly perceive the upset tone in the Darkspear’s words, but he was not deterred by it.

-The only thing you have protected with this is your goddamn shoulder, Vol’jin - he retorted, hitting the same spot with his palm once more, and this time the Troll let out a strangled moan. He was panting heavily and shaking from head to toe, but he kept his word, hands balled into fists on the wood. Tyrathan sighed, and then softly kissed the reddened skin - sorry, I am being unfair with you - his hands carefully pushed at his friend’s knees, separating his legs some more - when you lend me the chance I just couldn’t help myself - another kiss, this one beside the first one, and another, next to it. -Look at me. Please?

It took him a moment, but the Troll complied and lifted himself from the table, returning the hunter’s gaze. His face paint, although smeared in some parts, hid the blushing of his face; however, the lovely purplish tone was perfectly visible on his ears.

The man placed his hand over Vol’jin’s cock and slowly caressed it over the tensed fabric, up and down, a couple times. He heard a small growl and the sound of nails scratching wood, and couldn’t help but smile, freeing the troll’s pulsating erection from his underwear and wrapping both hands around it. With his thumbs he used the precum gathered at the tip to slick down the shaft, stroking up and down, drawing a low and shaky moan from his companion’s throat. Tyrathan looked up to find Vol’jin’s intense gaze focused on him, eyes burning with barely restrained desire, but just as he had promised, he kept still, letting him do what he wanted.

The man shifted his weight on his knees a moment, leaning his head forward, then looked up when he was inches away from the Troll’s dick, locking eyes with him and giving it a long lick, almost from the base to the tip. Vol’jin shuddered and groaned, but his eyes never left Tyrathan’s, and this encouraged the hunter. The salty flavor didn’t disgust him, so the Man sucked on the tip and teased the slit, thumb pads massaging the pulsating veins up and down, then using his palms to slick and pump the whole shaft with the help of his own saliva.

-Tyrathan… - he looked up when he heard his name, seeing the way his friend was trembling and panting. The hunter had wondered how long would the Troll last after he had spent so much time teasing and stimulating his thighs and nothing else; by the look of it, he realized that probably it wouldn’t be that much more. Because of it, and although he still lacked some practice, Tyrathan decided to open his mouth and swallow the most he could of the other’s cock, just to see if that would tip him over. It wasn’t much that he could get since Vol’jin was still a Troll and… very well proportioned, but the way he moaned his name and thrusted his hips forward told the hunter he had gotten enough. He drew back slightly as to not gag on it and bobbed his head at the same rhythm as his hands, listening to his companion’s low moans and feeling how his body tensed up.

Right at that moment, for some reason, Tyrathan decided to use one of his hands to mark a trail with his nails on Vol’jin’s right thigh, and that was what tipped him over the edge.

The Troll’s warning was drowned in a loud groan, hands gripping the table’s border and seed spilling in the hunter’s mouth, whom, despite his lack of practice, managed to efficiently drive him through his orgasm. The sensation of something hot hitting the back of his throat was still a strange one, but he swallowed it all, not drawing back until Vol’jin’s climax simmered down.

Tyrathan coughed and cleaned his mouth on his forearm, looking at the stains for a few moments, silent; his jaw was a bit sore and the foreign taste remained in his tongue, but he realized it wasn’t something that would stop him from repeating this. However, any other thought he had got interrupted when he felt a three fingered hand gently lift his chin, and he found two amber eyes calmly looking at him.

The Troll traced the man’s bottom lip with his thumb pad, and Tyrathan couldn’t stop his mouth from curving upwards in a soft smile. - Was it good? - he asked, and then instantly regretted sounding so ridiculously insecure.

From his part, Vol’jin simply placed his hands beneath the human’s shoulders and lifted him as if he weighed nothing, sitting him on the table and kissing his forehead - very good.

Now the man felt ashamed for the sudden swell of pride blooming in his chest at that simple praise.

Luck would have it that the human, sitting on the provisional desk, was at the same height as his Troll on a chair. Because of this, the Darkspear could comfortably kiss his face, purring softly and brushing his tusks on his companion’s paler skin and greying hair. Sometimes Tyrathan didn’t know if he loved or hated the fact that Vol’jin was so much taller than him.

The man gasped suddenly, feeling one of the troll’s hands stroke slowly over his crotch. If he had said that giving all those attentions to Vol’jin and watching him react did not affect him, he would have been telling one big lie, however, he had not done it expecting retribution.

-Wait, th… you don’t have to - he murmured when noticing the Troll’s skillful hand undoing the front of his pants. His friend looked at him in the eyes and smiled.

-It be fair - he said, kissing him - and I be wantin’ to. - The man put his hands around the Darkspear’s shoulders and kissed him back, pressing their foreheads together for an instant. There was something he wanted to say, but the sensation of Vol’jin’s fingers stroking his erection made him bit his bottom lip and keep silent. The Troll easily reached his neck from his position, biting the paler skin playfully, and sometimes those sharp fangs were just shy of piercing the flesh, but the man wasn't afraid of this happening. He noticed then that, at some point, Vol’jin had sneaked his other hand to his chest, (civilian clothes were just so blissfully easy to undo) and was teasing a specific part of his anatomy. Tyrathan bit his lip harder when he felt his nipple perk under the touch of the Troll’s rough finger pads, hips thrusting forward into the Troll’s hand when those same fingers pinched the nub.

-Nnn, fa… faster, please - he muttered, holding tighter onto the other’s shoulders. Vol’jin complied, speeding up the rhythm at which he pumped the hunter’s erection and moving his hand to tease the other pec. The man shivered and gasped, feeling closer to release with each stroke, touch and bite, hands going up to tangle on locks of wild red hair.

The Troll left his neck and kissed his lips briefly, whispering something against them, looking into his eyes. - (Come) - the Zandali tones sent a shiver right through the man’s spine, making him look away, body burning up and tensing, close, so close, so … - (Come for me, Tyrathan)

The hunter bit down his lip and arched his back, spilling into the other’s hand with a muffled moan. Vol’jin held him all the while, kissing his forehead and his closed eyes, lowering him from the table so he was sitting sideways on his lap then, body resting against his chest.

Tyrathan opened his eyes after a few seconds, feeling contented and relaxed on the Darkspear's arms. He turned his head when he heard the Troll rummaging through something, and realized he was cleaning his hand on the cloth for drying the ink from the pen. Then he noticed that, despite everything, Vol’jin had managed to move away most of the documents to one side of the table, and the ink to the other, so they wouldn’t end up ruined.

Always with the job on your mind.

-Hey - whispered the hunter, efficiently catching the Troll’s attention.

His companion looked down and smiled at him - hey - he said, and then chuckled.

Tyrathan raised an eyebrow - What?

The Darkspear licked his thumb pad and rubbed under the man’s eye - ya be havin’ paint on ya face.

-Oh… - The hunter touched his forehead and then looked at his fingers, where he found traces of white and black - well, this goes away with water, doesn’t it?

The Troll nodded, and then brushed above the humans collarbone - here too… these other ones be not goin’ away soon tho - he added, offering Tyrathan an unapologetic smile.

The man didn’t even try to look down, knowing that his neck and shoulders were covered in love bites. - I think we’re even on that. - He answered, getting himself comfortable on the Troll’s chest once more. His scarf was next to his weaponry on the bench he had spent sitting on most of the afternoon, so the marks did not worry him.

-Hmm, I gonna be findin’ a way to hide those soon enough.

The man opened his eyes and looked up at him - Well, you could simply find some trainee trousers and wear them, you know.

Vol’jin remained silent for a moment - be dis just your ploy to be gettin’ me to wear pants, Tyrathan Khort?

-Of course not, - he said, hand extending to caress part of his friend’s messed up mohawk - I truly thought you needed that break… but I won’t deny it had a beneficial side effect.

The Troll’s chest vibrated with laughter, - ya be makin’ sure nobody gonna be interruptin’ us, ya be waitin’ for me to be lowerin’ my guard - his tusks brushed hoary hair when he lowered his face and kissed the top of the man’s head - ya be preparin’ a trap and I be fallin’ for it. I be surprised, ya clever human.

-Oh, shush - The man tried to not let it show how much he liked when he got praised by him, and focused his atention on something else - Does that mean you’ll let me take the lead more often? - he asked, fixing his clothes.

-Hmm…I be thinkin’ not.

Tyrathan drew back from the Troll’s chest and looked at him with a cocked eyebrow - Well, damn me if you don’t love always being the one in command, Warchief.

Vol’jin offered him a shameless smile and proudly kept his head high, not affected at all by his sarcasm - As it should be, little man.

The hunter pushed his shoulder and laughed - oh, you’re the worst - He then stood up, hands at both sides of the Troll’s face - come on, we should get at least presentable for dinner with the others … - his fingertips traced the blurred limits of the other’s facepaint. This, what they had, was still a secret afterall.

The Darkspear nuzzled his hands and sighed - you be right. - Vol’jin looked at his human for a long moment and then smiled - Will ya be waitin for me at midnight?

Tyrathan returned the smile and kissed his nose - Of course.

----

If you reached here, thanks for reading!

I have been thinking on making little stories like this with them, like, what if Legion never happened, so they kept meeting in secret from time to time in Pandaria.

Dunno, there are many headcanons I could share with this idea, I would thank feedback about this

#tyrajin #vigilserpens #why can't they be happy blizzAAAAARDDDDD #random tittle is random #writting #long post #vol'jin #Tyrathan #fanfic

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shuuuugm · 6 years

Text

Praline edit aug 20 2017

(starting panels are all no dialog, almost all close up shots or wide scene shots, depending on situation)

opening shot is a cup being placed under an esspresso machine, and then a shot being poured into it. a hand, attached to Nibs, our co-lead, takes the cup, adds it to a platter with cream, sugar, and 2 other cups already on it. he takes the platter to a table, his expression neutral. swiftly moving behind the counter, nibs goes past a curtain, opens a door, and it closes on the reader, "no entry" in bold block letters fills the panel.

a close up of a sink, nibs hands soaked in blood turn on the tap, and begin cleaning the accidental mess. a large body, atop a surgical table, prone, lights above illuminating little else of the room.

a new scene, brighter lit, more open, shows a close up of muscles.

~~~

cafter an establishing shot of the gym, a closeup of thot's face, staring unblinking at a point, then to the tomcat. thot's eyes fill the panel, then nib's eyes, then a cut of the.body they're working on, attaching a needle to their vein, attached to a big bag labled 'A-', then back to thot, and then the tomcat.

Alternatively there could be a hard cut after nib's washing their hands to thot in the shower room, having just changed, oogling at tomcat in the shower, the short tile wall barely keeping the viewer from seeing their member. then thot gets up and walks out, just as tomcat turn off the water. either one could work.

~~~

the scene to follow, is them leaving their respective areas, moving through a large, imposing city, full of visual noise & other people. Nibs stops at a groccer and picks up a small bag of food, maybe a curry pack, veggies & meat, looking at the cubes of animal muscle blankly. their paths slowly coming towards the same building, a boring single sided apt complex with exteriour corridors between flats. 4th floor, facing another equally boring building with little in the way of embelishment. they arrive near the same time, keys extended. Thot moves first, keeping eyes on nibs, expectantly. nibs raises the bag, jiggling it. Thots eyes widen and a smile curls up, almost creepily.

the shot cuts to a knife being pulled out of a block, the steel glinting. an onion, a potato, and 2 carrots are nicely laid out along the counter. nibs pulls the onion to the counter, and begins chopping it into thick crescents. followed is the potato into medium chunks then the carrots in a similar fashion. a shot of the meat cubes being removed from the package & placed into a tall sided pan. a closeup of it sizzling on contact, as the pan is on high heat. back to the veggies being cut, then the meat, browned on all side, placed on the cutting board. nibs adds liquid to the pan, filling it halfway. a transition shot through the action of nibs cooking, is thot is staring from across the room, wide eyed and unblinking. they're motionless save their tail, which twitches wildly from side to side.

cut to plates of rice, the curry being poured over, 2 glasses of beer nearby. thot digs in, barely breathing, the food is all. nibs sits down, staring at thot, almost amused. they are both cross legged in front of their coffee table, a sparse living room with a couch, the table they currently occupy, a tv, and connected devices. no art, just a large mirror nearby, halfway from kitchen to den, and an area rug under the main furniture, reducing the sound the hardwood carries. thot has finished the meal, and is now splayed out, wheezing but happy. nibs has taken 2 bites and a sip of beer, but before they can continue, there's a knock on the door. taptaptaptap, urgently. nibs gets up nimbly and checks out the peephole.

nothing

nibs chains the door, opening it gingerly.

nothing still.

nibs looks back at thot, who seems to either be dead or just barely breathing. the usual post curry coma. nibs turns back, unchains, and takes a step outisde to look around. there's no one around. they look down, and on top of their mat, a small hankerchief package is waiting. nibs picks the package up and comes inside. thot has now very gingerly propped up their head, one eye narrowly open, too curious to have stayed immobile. nibs returns to the table, the tiny package, which is only the size of a medium orange, sits on their hands, facing thot.

they both peer down on it, having placed it on the cleared table. nibs reaches out, pulling on one ear of the knotted hankerchief, loosening the tie. they reaches out and pulls the cloth down, revealing a plain paper box. thot then picks up the box and opens it. the shot is head on to them, they're looking down into the box, and it's as if there's an incredibly bright light inside, though they don't squint. they close the box, look up at nibs, shrug with a look of confusion, and toss the box at nibs. the next shot is a repeat head on of nibs catching the box, then cut to an over the shoulder of their hands opening the box, revealing a plain leather collar with a tag shaped like a bone. the leather is black & thick, with a silver loop catch and about 5 holes for variable tighness. nibs picks the collar up, looking closer at the tag. there's no inscription, and it's otherwise unremarkable. they put it back in the box, close the lid, and set it down. the shot is of the box, sitting unremarkably on the table.

two long panels show the box sitting on the table. the first panel, it's the same night, the second panel is morning, unchanged save the way the light behaves.

thot is lying in their bed, draped half off the bed messily, the covers only covering their lower half enough to be somewhat modest, as clearly thot is one to sleep nude. nibs is already in the kitchen, slowly making coffee. crank milled to avoid waking their roomate, the aeropress is filled with 6 scoops of beans, enough for more than the two of them, except thot drinks a minimum of 3 cups. nibs has a kettle with the whistle removed. it starts bubbling, and nibs takes it off the heat, pouring the water over the beans. they take the plunger, setting it over, then plunges carefuly. a closeup of the air bubbles hissing put from under the wet grinds, a loose krema forming at the top of the water line. As if the smell of the coffee had picked thot up, and carried them to the kitchen, they stand there, groggy and barely there, cup waiting expectantly. nibs pours a generous cup, and it's gone in an instant. one more and thot's eyes are actually open, and they are no longer swaying gently back and forth like a sleepwalker. nibs turns, beginning the typical breakfast fare for the two of them; four slices of toast, four eggs, two apples into thin slices, and one glass of orange juice, as thot will only drink more coffee. the shots are a one two of single actions, the toast popping out of the toaster, the eggs sizzling in the pan, apples in a pile on the cutting board, and a glass with an orange juice stream filling it up. then the plates are on the counter, both of them eat breakfast standing up. thot wolfs everything down, though seems redicent to eat the apples. too healthy it seems. the scene transitions to nibs leaving the apt, thot lounging on the couch, playing a videogame. the door closes, thot looks up at it, then sets down the controller, and begins doing clapping pushups, a serious look now set on their face. a clinking of keys at the door, and thot is magically in exactly the same spot, lounging like nothing changed. nibs dips in, picks up a banana next to the door, waves at thot, and disapears behind the door. back at the exercise, thot is dripping sweat, now doing crunches, upside down, hanging from their legs on a bar in their closet, clothes that had hidden the tool now strewn on the bed. a cut to them on their back, bicycle kicking.

then a cut to the shower, they've finished their workout, now it's time for the gym.

nibs has been at work for almost half the shift, serving mostly middle aged men, a smattering of school girls, the odd weirdo who takes more than a little too long staring & not ordering. the same blank slate face is on, no more or less affected by any of them, focused more on the motions than anything else. after cleaning a table, a tray of neatly stacked cups & acoutremontes taken to the sink behind the curtain, nibs' boss is there, waiting patiently. nibs nods, puts the tray down, and follows the boss. down a flight of circular stairs to the operating room, a person sits, somewhat nervous, atop the table seen before.

"this is Gavin, they want to sell a kidney.", the boss says, smiling widly at Gavin

"is this really your surgeon? weren't you just workng upstairs in the cafe?"

nibs looks at this person they've just met, unfazed. the boss looks up at nibs, then back at gavin

"is that a problem? it doesn't seem like an issue on my end, but you're welcome to leave if you want."

"no, i guess it's no problem, i'm just surprised you're out there too"

"well, if there's no issues, let's get you prepped."

boss walks to a corner of the room, opening a curtain and gesturing to gavin, who hops off the table and enters. nibs takes the liner off the table that gavin had been sitting on, and puts it in a bin next to the sink. they start washing their hands. they put on a surgical mask, and a pair of safety goggles. gavin comes out, a operating gown on. nibs has put on elbow length gloves, and is now next to the table. boss smiles widely, their eyes almost closed it's so big, they're now gesturing for gavin to lie down. gavin lays on the table, while nibs picks up a mask attached to the large gas tanks nearby, and says

"count to ten aloud. deep breaths between numbers please."

"one, two, thr..e.e, f..fou...fourr, f..fffiii...."

nibs turns the gas nozzle, lifts the mask, and looks at boss. boss's smile drops, they give a small humourless chuckle

"ok kid, shows all yours. don't mess this one up"

nibs' brow furrow a tiny bit, staring straight at boss.

"don't give me that look. the blood we had to pump back into the last one cost too much. you can't expect me to let it slide."

nibs sighs, their face relaxes and their head tilts forward. they knew they had fucked up.

"look kid, mistakes happen. that was your first, far as i know. just don't make it a habit"

nibs looks back at boss,a determined glint in their eyes, nods, and begins work.

thot is in a change room, several lengths of wall lockers on one side, wooden slat benches in the middle, and a set of open wall white tile showers along the other wall. they have set their clothes in a top locker, now only in running short shorts, headband, and a loose tank top with a heart on the back. they lock their locker turn around, and jump. the person thot had been staring at the day before was directly behind them, completely in the nude. thot's head is just shy of chest height on this figure. thot's eyes are wide, and they scan up from their eye level all the way to meet this person's gaze. the figure, all muscle & sleek fur, now wet & ruffled from a shower, points at thot, his finger an inch from thot's nose. he grunts, and pokes his finger forward, booping thot on the nose.

thot steps back, now pressed against the locker. he points his finger again, now with a little side motion, which thot follows, and the bulking figure stoops down, and opens a locker thot had been blocking. thot's heart is racing, their body locked up, having fully realized the size of the man they had been oogling yesterday. a slightly odd smile had grown, their eyes still incredibly wide.

cut back to nibs, their work now deep inside of the mans innards. the entrance is just under the ribcage, to the right of centre. the skin has been held back by forceps, revealing the organs within. a section of intestins had to be moved, and behind their bulbous ropes sat the kidneys. nibs cuts out the organ, and sutures the severed connector. the kidney, now safely within a bowl, is taken to a wall with a bank of cryo tank drawers. nibs selects a handle labled with a little graphic of a kidney, opens, and places the kidney inside. they turn, kidney bowl now empty of it's namesake, and go to the sink. the bowl is dropped into the cleaning sink, full of a cycling hot water & alcohol solution. they return in front of gavin, moving coils of intestine back into the open abdomen. after the vicera is returned to it's home, and the forceps holding it all open are removed, nibs begins stitching the wound close. a final dressing to the opening, and nibs is done. they go back to the sink, carefully removing their gloves. gavin is still out cold. (nibs never sees where they go. they've assumed boss comes down, gets them wheeled to some other building, and has them heal up at home to avoid any suspicions accumilating about the cafe above.)

a shot cut, thot is sitting on a bench, back to a mirrored wall covered in racks of freeweights. the weight in thot's hand is what can only be described as next to nothing. they are pretending to be intensly into a rep set of bicep curls, staring straight ahead. in the mirror behind, we can see the hulking figure doing some pre workout stretches, their back to thot. the gym is busy, lots of activity going on, all manner of free weights & machines in use, people doing calisthetics in the corner near the biggest bank of windows. shot to thot in a spin bike, staring at the figure on a tread mill directly in front of them. thots eyes are wide, unblinking still. now a shot of thot, placing back a set of these nothing weights, bent in a clearly inconvenient pose, butt towards the tomcat. thot's eyes peeking back to check if he sees them. he doesn't, as he's busy setting a higher weight to the leg press machine he's sat at. thot gives a grumpy look, and heads to the other leg press machine next to the figure, passing right in front of him to get to it. thot sets the weight to the second lightest, and begins doing reps with crooked feet. their eyes still on the tomcat. he's now paying attention to thot, specifically the crooked feet. he gets up, and goes over, huffing a little. he puts his hands on thots feet, and repositions them on the pad. thot gives him a bashful smile, playing dumb.

cut to nibs, walking home. they arrive at the front door, but no room mate to greet them. they get inside, and nothing has changed, and still no room mate. a *VRR VRR*, & nibs pulls out their phone. a text "at Vinny's, pls pick up" reads. nibs nose & eye area crinckles up in a little bit of frustration.

cut to ouside a crumy dump bar, VINNY'S displayed in bright, double line neon. nibs pulls open the front door & walks past the (i'm thinking old bulldog) bouncer, dosing off in their chair.

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