#this is almost 7k of just them loving each other so so so so much and finally being able to do something about it (handjobs etc)

[coloursflyaway]

Possession

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: E

Word Count: 6.700

Read on AO3

“It’s an experiment of some sort”, Charles explains, putting one of his hands on Edwin’s thigh and aching for it. “You know when I kiss you and you don’t feel feel it, but you still feel it? Somewhere in your head, or soul, whatever. I wanna do that. I wanna touch you and see if I can make you feel that” or: How to overcome the limitations of your non corporeal form by just really, really wanting to.

„I wanna try something“, Charles says as he perches onto the sofa next to Edwin, excitement thrumming through his body in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. The thing is, he might be onto something here, something huge.

Edwin doesn’t sigh when he puts down his book, but it seems to be a close thing; for once, it doesn’t matter, because Charles needs his attention and he needs it now. It’s not a new idea, more one he has been carrying with him for a few weeks now, but just a few minutes ago, when he looked over at Edwin, with his long legs and the graceful curve of his neck, his pink lips parted just so as he concentrated on his research, he suddenly felt a wave of desire wash over him. Desire to touch, desire to feel. And suddenly it had to be now.

“And what would that be, darling?”, Edwin asks, and although it’s nothing new at all, the term of endearment still makes Charles smile. It most likely will in a year from now, in a decade. In a century. “It’s an experiment of some sort”, Charles explains, putting one of his hands on Edwin’s thigh and aching for it. “You know when I kiss you and you don’t feel feel it, but you still feel it? Somewhere in your head, or soul, whatever.”

Edwin nods, a smile ghosting across his lips as he puts his hand over Charles’, holding onto it.

“I wanna do that. I wanna touch you and see if I can make you feel that”, Charles explains and squeezes Edwin’s hand, something he knows Edwin can sense somehow, because he does, too. “I wanna touch you everywhere, all the time, so bad. Please let me?”

There is no bed they can go to, but the sofa can be extended into one, because Crystal sometimes stays over if the investigations take too long. So, Charles reassembles the cushions, finds a blanket to spread across it, because even if Edwin mentions how their physical comfort won’t be impacted by these things, Charles will do this right. Edwin deserves one of those canopied beds fit for a prince, rose petals and champagne they cannot drink, but if they have to make due with what is available at the agency, then he will at least make the most of that.

“Lay down?”, he asks as soon as he is satisfied, and while Edwin looks like he isn’t quite sure what to do with his limbs, he settles down on the makeshift bed, looking up at Charles. On a whim, Charles kisses him softly, and he can feel it somehow, even if it is hard to explain, feels even more when Edwin sighs against his lips, reaches up to trail his fingers along the line of Charles’ jaw.

“So, what I am thinking”, Charles starts to explain, while he joins Edwin on the sofa, hovering above him, “is that I’m gonna touch you and I’m gonna tell you what I am doing, because your brain should remember how touch feels, even if it cannot experience it right now. And I… I think I’m also going to tell you what I think it would feel like, for me, just in case it helps.”

It will be awkward, especially at first, Charles is very aware of it, but it will be so worth it if it ends up working. And if not, at least they will have given it a good shot. Again, he leans down and kisses Edwin, who has been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, before asking, “Is that alright?”

He expects a hint of hesitation, because Edwin is a lot of things but definitely not adventurous, but there is none; Edwin nods immediately, then laughs at his own eagerness. “I’m sorry”, he says, “It’s just that I haven’t much experience with any of this.” “I know. Neither have I.”

And saying it like that feels kind of incredible, actually, the thought of being Edwin’ first. Of Edwin being his. Of Edwin being his only, Charles corrects himself, because this, they, are forever.

“Okay, so”, he begins again, because otherwise he’ll get lost in the green of Edwin’s eyes and the curve of his smile and the beauty of just being near him, and they’ll end up snogging for half the afternoon. Which, to be fair, is not a bad way to spend a day, but not today. “I’ll be getting your kit off for a start. And then we’ll go from there, alright?” “Yes. I trust you.”

And he does, Charles knows that better than he knows himself.

It’s difficult to pull away from Edwin, but he does it anyway, sitting back on his legs so he can get at the buttons of Edwin’ shirt. He has undone them once before, right at the beginning when they met, because Edwin had been stabbed by an iron knife and while Edwin had insisted that he was fine, Charles had needed to see the wound, to tend to it. Back then, the moment when he had pulled back the singed white linen, he had decided that he would protect Edwin from whatever came their way, even if the skin he had uncovered had been pale and flawless.

No lasting wounds, Edwin had explained patiently, as if that cancelled out the pain of it, and had been utterly confused when Charles pulled him into a hug and promised him that he would never let it happen again anyway. He had kept his word.

Now, when Charles pushes Edwin’s shirts off his shoulders, his skin is just as flawless as it was that day, and suddenly, there is no more space left for reminiscing, because Charles wants to touch him so much it feels not like desire, but a physical need.

“I’m going to touch you now”, he tells Edwin, looking up at his pretty, pretty face for a moment, and finding Edwin staring back at him already, eyes wide and alert. “I’m going to kiss your neck, because I’ve been wanting to do that for ages, and if you feel anything, let me know.”

And that’s it, that’s all the time Charles can spare before leaning down and pressing his mouth against the sharp line of Edwin’s jaw, parting his lips to lick across the skin there. Edwin makes a sound above him, startled, but in a good way, then there is a long-fingered hand sliding through his hair, holding onto him, and Charles can feel it, at least the ghost of it.

Slowly, Charles makes his way down Edwin’s throat, pressing kisses to every inch of skin he can find, laving his tongue across it, and God, how he wishes he could taste Edwin there, the salt of his skin, feel the warmth of it. His hand slides over Edwin’s chest, trailing across his ribs, and even like this, it’s so good to just touch him, be this close.

“Charles”, Edwin breathes out above him, and it’s the hardest thing he has ever done, but Charles tears himself away from where he is currently smearing kisses against Edwin’s collarbone so he can look at him instead. “What?”, he asks, smiling when Edwin looks up at him, lips bitten red and pupils blown so wide they seem to swallow all the green of his eyes. It’s a good look on him, one that sets something within Charles’ soul on fire.

“Nothing”, Edwin replies, and he sounds wrecked, beautifully so. It makes Charles shiver. “Just. Don’t stop, please?”

He’s so beautiful like this, neck bared and chest heaving with breaths he isn’t taking, and Charles loves him so much it feels like an avalanche, a force of nature.

“You can feel it? When I kiss you like this?”, he asks, and Edwin nods, eyebrows drawing together. “Kind of. It’s like when we usually kiss, just more. And then there’s a tingling wherever you touch me, like nothing I have ever felt before.”

“I knew it would work”, Charles replies and grins, then strokes his hand down Edwin’s side just to watch his reaction. And react he does, shivering as his eyes follow the trail of Charles’s fingers, his lips still parted around a sound he doesn’t make.

“It feels good for me too”, he adds, because Edwin still seems dazed, just in case there was ever any doubt. “Like I’m hot all over, like all I ever want to do for the rest of time is to touch you. I can’t feel it, but I imagined that your skin would be warm and soft. And that I could taste it. I want to taste you so bad.”

Maybe it’s more of a confession than anything else, but it doesn’t seem like Edwin minds, because his eyes snap back up to Charles’ face, and finally, that sound spills from his lips. A broken, fragile thing, something between a moan and a gasp, and it’s like a bolt of pure, unfiltered lust strikes Charles, leaving him light-headed. He leans down and kisses Edwin without thinking, licking the last remnants of the sound from his mouth, then into it, until it feels like he is drowning.

“You like that? Me talking about how much I want to touch you?”, he asks when he eventually pulls back, their lips still brushing, and Edwin nods almost frantically. It’s so sweet, it’s so him, that Charles can’t help but smile and press a shorter, softer kiss to his lips. “Me too”, he confesses, “I want you to always know how much I love you. It took me a while, I know, but God, Edwin, my heaven would be just this. Laying here with you, kissing you, making you moan like that. Having you close.”

Again, Edwin makes a sound and it sounds even more wrecked than the last one, and Charles decides in that moment, that it won’t be enough until he has made Edwin fall apart completely. So, he drags his lips down Edwin’s throat again, kissing and re-kissing the skin there.

“If I could, I would leave a hundred marks on you”, Charles mutters between kisses. “Make sure that everyone knows you’re mine with only one glance. No more pretty crow boys pining after you, or weird immortal cat people not wanting to let you go.” He latches onto the skin just below Edwin’s collarbone and gives it a hard suck, imagining the skin reddening, a bruise blooming that would show the world that Edwin had made his choice.

“Charles!” The words startle a laugh from Edwin, the action turn it into a shaky moan, and once again, Charles has to look up at him, a smile playing on his lips. “No need to be possessive. You know I’m yours.” “I do. I just want everyone else to know it, too.”

Even though his eyes are still dark, Edwin is smiling, bright and happy under the veil of lust. “I love you the most”, he says, and it makes something familiar and warm and beautiful bloom in Charles’ chest. “You too”, he answers. “Always. But now, let me get back to making you moan my name.”

And he does, turning Edwin’ laughter to something much more breathless when he seals his lips around one of Edwin’s nipples and sucks, circling it with his tongue as if to soothe the sting a moment later. He can feel Edwin quaking under him, and there, right on the tip of his tongue, is a hint of remembered salt, the imagined sensation of soft flesh.

“Tell me what you feel”, Charles whispers against Edwin’s chest, his hands sliding down his sides, tickling along his ribs. “Tell me what you imagine it would be like.”

“It’s- it’s like I can feel it in my head”, Edwin gasps out, arching up when Charles presses a flurry of kisses to his sternum, before continuing on to Edwin’s other nipple. “The more you say, the more I see you touch me, the stronger it gets. And it’s more than just that, I can- I can sense your tongue on me. Your lips. Your hands. I can tell them apart.”

Almost as a reward, Charles leaves a kiss over Edwin’s unbeating heart, laving his tongue across the skin there, and he gets a sigh in response, a beautifully shaky breath.

“It’s like I can almost feel you”, Edwin says, and it’s all Charles wanted to hear. “The heat of your mouth and the slickness of your tongue. Even if there is no reason for it, I want you leave your marks on me. I want to see them tomorrow. I want to leave my own on you.”

This time, it is Charles who shivers, because oh, he craves that more than he could have imagined.

Instead of replying, he slides down Edwin’s body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses on Edwin’s stomach until he can drag his teeth across his hipbones, making Edwin moan low in his throat. Charles can sense the firmness there, hidden behind a layer of flesh and even this smallest sensation is painfully good, fills him with a heat that is almost unbearable and that he still craves more of.

His tongue flicks out and there it is again, a hint of salt.

“Can I…”, he starts, and nuzzles his cheek against the dip between Edwin’s hip and thigh, before looking up at him. The breath leaves Edwin with a hiss, his eyes slipping shut for a second or two. “Good God, Charles”, he replies, his voice deep and raspy. “Yes, yes, you can do whatever you want to me, just don’t stop.”

There is nothing in the world that could stop Charles, not when Edwin is looking at him like this, so he doesn’t waste a second before reaching out and… … and Edwin is hard against his hands.

Back when Charles was devising this plan, he expected the pleasure to be the same kind he feels when kissing Edwin, a mental kind of sensation, beautiful but still non-corporeal, just like the two of them are.

But now, Edwin is hard, straining against the seams of his pants, and Charles might be having an aneurysm caused by the absolute tidal wave of lust crashing over him, burying him, drowning him. Because Edwin is hard for him, and Charles never needed to touch him more.

“Fuck, Edwin, I swear-”, he stutters out, fingers slipping across the buttons, fumbling to get them open. Finally, he succeeds, and all but rips them down Edwin’s hips, uncaring that the fabric strains and he will get scolded for it later. Now, however, it doesn’t matter, because Edwin is hard, his cock flushed and pink and shining with precome, and Charles needs to touch him.

He brings a hand up to his lips and licks it – Edwin makes a sound at that, and the thought that he is watching him might be what finally does Charles’ mind in completely – before wrapping it around Edwin’s cock, giving it a long, slow stroke to savour the feeling, the silkiness of Edwin’s skin, the heat of his blood-warmed flesh. It’s so little still, yet it makes Edwin moan loud and broken and desperate, and when Charles looks up at him, his head is thrown back, his beautiful, long throat bared for Charles to kiss. Which he does, wet and messy, licking down the length from Edwin’s jaw to his collarbone, sucking where the tendons are standing out. He can feel the vibrations of Edwin’s moans against his lips with every stroke of his hand, and maybe this is the first time he is doing it, but Charles will be damned if he won’t find out every little thing that makes Edwin moan, every touch that makes him shiver.

“God, I love you”, he whispers against Edwin’s throat, drags his teeth across the sensitive skin there and twists his hand around Edwin’s cock on a downstroke to find out if it changes his pitch, deepens his pleasure. “I love you the most of everything in this whole world, thank you so much for letting me touch you, for-”

“Charles”, Edwin interrupts him, one hand sliding into his hair to make him look at Edwin, whose eyes are dark with lust, with wonder. “Charles, I can feel you.”

It makes Charles stop dead in his tracks, his hand coming to a rest mid-stroke and drawing a desperate little sound from Edwin, who is still looking down at him like he has performed a miracle. And maybe he has, because… because Charles can feel him, too.

“Edwin”, he breathes out, overwhelmed. He can feel the heat of Edwin’s skin against his, not as a memory or a spark, a thrum in his mind, but like skin. A moment passes in which he is frozen in place, then Charles surges forwards to kiss Edwin with everything he has, every bit of love and gratitude and eternal devotion.

This kiss is not their first, and it doesn’t feel like it either, but it is the first of its kind, and Charles drinks down every sound Edwin makes, brings his hand up to cradle Edwin’s face, stroke his fingertips along his jaw, down his throat. It makes Edwin shiver, and Charles laughs against his lips, still mindless, speechless.

“I can feel you”, Edwin mutters, and there are tears in his eyes, tinting his voice, and he’s so beautiful Charles feels like he is looking straight into the sun, it’s so blinding. “Me too”, Charles answers and Edwin’s smile grows wider still.

For a moment, it’s just that, and it’s enough, more than that, even, but then Charles remembers Edwin’s lust-darkened eyes, his body arching towards him, the feeling of Edwin’s cock blood-hot against his palm, and Charles needs to see him fall apart beneath him. “I’ll make sure you really feel me”, he tells Edwin with a wink, ignoring the tears in both their eyes, and gives him one more kiss before he slides his hand down Edwin’s body one more time.

His skin is soft, slightly slick, and so, so warm, and Charles gives him one, two strokes, just to watch Edwin move with the motion, chasing Charles’ touch, before he leans back in and kisses a line from Edwin’s lips to the hollow of his throat, dragging his teeth across the expanse of Edwin’s collarbones. It draws a soft moan from Edwin’s lips, so Charles does it again, while his hand speeds up around Edwin’s cock, alternating the pressure between strokes to find out what will make Edwin lose his mind the fastest.

L ike this, he might be the most beautiful Charles has ever seen him, reacting to every touch, every little kiss, and for a moment, Charles wonders what would have happened if Edwin had been permitted to grow up. If he would have found someone to love him like Charles loves him, if he would have permitted someone else to take him apart like this. However, in the end it doesn’t matter, because Charles is here now and he will do his best that Edwin never even has to think about anyone else.

He sucks an invisible mark onto the base of Edwin’s neck, another one over where his pulse point would be, and Edwin’s hips snap up, trying to get more friction and Charles is desperate for this, for everything else Edwin will give him. With the next upwards stroke, he twists his hand a little and Edwin moans so sweetly, one of his hands coming to rest on Charles’ lower back and pulling him closer. Charles moves willingly, like he does every time Edwin directs him, pressing against his side until there is pressure against his crotch, and. Oh.

Giving Edwin pleasure had been more than enough, but now Edwin’s hip is pressing against him and suddenly, Charles notices that he is achingly hard inside his pants. His hand stutters around Edwin’s cock as his hips give a few uncoordinated, messy thrusts, Charles moaning against the crook of Edwin’s neck. “Charles, are you-”, Edwin asks, sounding downright debauched in how he moans Charles’ name, and it’s enough to snap Charles back to thinking, to acting.

“Of course, I’m hard”, he answers against Edwin’s skin between kisses, his hand returning to stroking Edwin slowly, deliberately, “I’m touching you, I’m listening to you, how could I-” His words leave him when Edwin pulls him closer still, on purpose this time. Instead, he moans, smears his kisses onto Edwin’s skin, bites them into his flesh.

It feels like heaven, but it’s still not enough, because Edwin is still coherent enough to talk while Charles feels like he is slowly losing his grip on reality. So, he pulls his hand away from Edwin’s cock for a moment, licks it messily to slick up the glide when he returns it to where it belongs, only that…

… only that he can taste Edwin on his skin.

He shouldn’t be able to pinpoint it so easily, but he can, maybe because he hasn’t tasted anything in three decades, because when he darts out his tongue again, he cannot taste the salt of his own sweat, only something different, musky. Only Edwin.

The realisation rips through him, leaves him light-headed and almost blind with lust. Beneath him, Edwin whines, most likely because of the lack of contact, but Charles can hardly hear him over the desire coursing through his veins.

“Edwin, I can taste you”, he slurs, half as an explanation, and it feels like crying, feels like praying. This time, he doesn’t wait for an answer, however, because Charles can taste him, and it’s not enough. Won’t be enough until his tongue is coated in Edwin’s taste, warmed by his body heat.

Without another word, h e slides down Edwin’s body, wraps one hand around his cock again and swallows down as much of him as he can. He’s warm against Charles’ tongue, the skin soft and smooth, and he tastes like the only thing Charles will ever taste again and it’s more than he could have ever asked for.

Edwin’s hips buck up, but Charles’ gag reflex died with him, so he doesn’t care, just starts bobbing his head in time with Edwin’s thrusts, caught between the slick sounds of his own lips sliding against skin and Edwin’s gasps, his moans of Charles’ name. The hand that slides into his curls, not pushing, just holding onto something, the lust that comes in waves with every new sensation, and, of course, Edwin’s taste across his tongue, seeping into his very being.

“Charles”, Edwin forces out, almost coherent, and Charles understands the warning as what it is, then ignores it thoroughly. There is no way Edwin is coming anywhere but down his throat. So he picks up his rhythm, brings down his second hand to cup Edwin’s balls, and sucks as hard as he can.

Edwin comes with a shout of Charles’ name, bucking off the makeshift bed almost violently. His hand tightens in Charles’ hair until he can feel the pinpricks of it, his muscles shaking, and Charles can taste him more clearly than anything he has ever tasted before. It’s heaven, kneeling right there between Edwin’s thighs and sucking him through his orgasm, licking him clean afterwards, smoothing his hands across the soft plane of Edwin’s stomach. Feeling him, tasting him.

When the last aftershocks have subsided, Charles settles down next to Edwin, curling up close, and watches as Edwin’s eyes slowly open once mor e. T hey are hazy, but full of adoration, a lazy smile spreading across his kiss-red lips. “ That was incredible”, he whispers, because Charles is close enough that he can hear it anyway. And he presses a kiss to his lips that Charles can still feel, rests their foreheads together, and it’s everything, because Edwin is everything.

Only that then, he pulls away, and Charles almost whines because he shouldn’t be forced to spend a second not touching Edwin when he can feel it, and when he doesn’t yet know if this is something that will wear off with time again. But Edwin doesn’t go far, only enough to look at Charles with eyes that are slowly regaining their green, his thick brows furrowed just so.

“You… didn’t, though”, he says, and he’s right, but for a moment, Charles wants to tell him not to worry about it anyway. Because being here, being close is enough, would always have been enough for Charles, had they realised that this didn’t work. He saw Edwin fall apart beneath his hands and his mouth, heard him gasp out his name, tasted him and felt him, and really, that is more than he ever could have hoped for.

However, Edwin has other plans, quite obviously, because he shifts so he can press the side of his thigh against Charles’ aching erection and suddenly, Charles isn’t sure if that is an option any longer. It’s like Edwin’s touch reignites every spark of lust in his body, and maybe that even makes sense, since it’s the only thing Charles has felt in decades.

He lets out a low moan, hips grinding forward, and Edwin is kissing him, smiling against his lips, moving one of his hands to lightly rest on Charles’ stomach. Asking for permission, quite clearly, which he quite obviously can have, because there is nothing Charles wants more than Edwin’s hands on him.

Only that there is.

“Edwin”, he gasps out, trying his best not to lose his mind as Edwin’s hand slips underneath the waistband of his trousers, teasing. “Have you ever heard of a refractory period?” A moment of pause, then Edwin says, “No, but what has that to do with anything?”

Everything.

He leaves Edwin on the makeshift bed for a few moments and hunts down the hand lotion Crystal keeps around for when the dust in the office gets too much for her delicate skin, makes a mental promise to never let her find out about this, and to make up for it somehow. Because right now, he doesn’t what else to do, but use it.

Edwin is still naked and glorious when he returns, looking like the kind of lover that would have inspired poetry in the past, the kind Edwin sometimes reads him at night when they are curled up on the sofa. His hair is mussed, his lips are cherry red and he is watching Charles with curious, half-lidded eyes in a way that makes Charles feel loved and wanted and a little bit like prey.

“So, the thing is this”, Charles says, dropping the lotion bottle on the sofa and starting to shuck off his shirt. “I really need to feel you inside of me.” The words draw a sound from Edwin, choked and disbelieving, and Charles allows himself a smile as he discards his shirt and vest, starts to work on his trousers. He doesn’t get far, though, because Edwin surges up and replaces Charles’ fingers with his own, sliding down the zipper while looking up at him from dark eyes.

And what a picture he makes, sitting there on the bed naked, right in front of Charles, ready to be kissed, ready to be touched.

“You want that?”, Edwin asks, and Charles credits Niko’s manga collection with the breathless understanding painted across his face, thanks her for it silently. He’s not sure if he could make it through an anatomy lesson right now, when he feels like he is going to explode if he doesn’t feel Edwin soon. “More than anything”, Charles answers, and it’s like Edwin’s breath catches in his throat, at least the sound of it. “You have absolutely no idea.”

His trousers drop to the floor and neither gives them a second thought, Edwin because he looks at Charles like he has never truly seen him before, Charles because Edwin is right there, beautiful and willing to give him this, and always, always loved. Without wasting a second, Charles pushes his briefs down and Edwin makes another sound, wounded and almost desperate this time, and while he hasn’t touched Charles much yet, his hands are suddenly all over him. Trembling fingers run along his sides, smooth across his thighs, then Edwin leans in and presses a kiss to Charles’ stomach, another and another until Charles has to push a hand into his hair to stop him.

“Edwin, babe”, he breathes out shakily, almost moaning when Edwin nuzzles the skin below his navel, “can’t do that right now, or otherwise we won’t get very far at all.” It takes a moment, but then Edwin looks up, so smug that Charles falls in love with him all over again. “Next time, though?”, he asks and Charles nods immediately, light-headed because this is not only a possibility now, but a promise. “Good. I want to know how you taste. How you feel against my lips. I have never touched another man before, but I want you to be the first.”

“Edwin!” Charles is half-laughing, half-groaning; he cannot listen to this now, or probably ever. So, he pushes Edwin back onto the mattress with a gentle, but firm hand, and Edwin goes willingly, sprawling onto the mattress like an oil painting, like the wet dreams Charles can hardly remember having. His skin gleams in the dim light of their office, his hair is a mess that Charles’ hands have caused, and…

Charles feels like he might faint the hundredth time this day, because right there across Edwin’s throat, painted in dusty pink, the marks Charles has been trying to suck onto his skin are glistening.

Faintly, he is aware that he is breathing out a moan, because one of Edwin’s eyebrows rises, but it doesn’t matter, the only thing that still matters is that Charles’ lips have left traces on Edwin’s perfect skin. “Fuck”, he mutters under his breath while he clambers back onto the sofa, limbs uncooperative with his sudden desperation, until he is straddling Edwin’s thighs and can kiss him again fiercely, first his lips, then the side of his jaw, the soft skin of his throat, already marked and yet still far too pristine. Without hesitation, Edwin bares his throat to him, and Charles takes the invitation, bites at the tendons there, before licking the sting away once more.

“Edwin, I can see them on you”, he groans against his skin once he can think again, hands grabbing every bit of Edwin they can find, “there’s marks on your skin, my marks.” The sound Edwin makes is almost wounded; he pulls Charles closer, one hand coming up to press his head against the crook of his neck, and Charles opens his mouth and bites him there, sucks at the flesh until he can feel its heat.

You’re mine , he thinks, although it’s nonsensical, because Edwin has never been anyone else’s, you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine .

At the same time, he’s reaching for the bottle of lotion, because as much as he needs to see his claim on Edwin’s skin, he needs to feel him so deep inside of him that he’ll never forget the sensation.

“Charles, let me”, Edwin breathes out when he realises what he is doing, but Charles just shakes his head, unwilling to let go of Edwin for even a second. “It’ll be quicker if I do it”, he explains, words spoken against the slick, warm skin of Edwin’s collarbone. “Can’t feel my own fingers, can I?”

Edwin chokes at that, but he doesn’t disagree, only grips Charles’ back and drags him forward, causing Charles’ cock to be caught between them, sliding against Edwin’s stomach, and it feels like dying . Pleasure shoots up Charles’ spine, filling him to brim, and before he knows it, he is gasping against Edwin’s neck, doing his best to still his hips, because he could come like this within minutes, if not seconds.

He takes a shaky breath, trying to calm himself, before prying the bottle of lotion open, still almost desperate as he blindly squeezes some of it on his fingers. It feels like nothing at all, just like everything but Edwin does, but Charles reaches behind himself and finds his entrance, wasting no time before shoving two fingers inside of himself. This, too, is only a matter of faint pressure and the awareness of his hand’s position, but maybe it’s for the best, because Edwin’s fingers are leaving tracks of fire on his bare back, tickling along his sides and sliding against the nape of his neck, tender and possessive at the same time.

Scissoring his fingers, he mouths at Edwin’s throat again, cock dragging against his stomach when Charles pushes his fingers deeper still. Sparks of pleasure tingle through his limbs, setting his blood on fire, and Charles is faintly aware that he is moaning, his hips rolling against Edwin desperately. The memory of his muscles is easily coaxed into giving in, and Charles adds a third finger as soon as the pressure around them fades, because even if they technically have forever, it feels like he might die if he doesn’t feel Edwin inside of him soon.

For now, though, he loses himself in the pleasure of Edwin’s fingers, in the drag of his cock between their bodies, and it’s only when Edwin mutters his name against the crown of his head that he resurfaces, nipping at Edwin’s throat once more before pulling back slightly, resting his chin on Edwin’s mess of a collarbone to look up at him. He’s beautiful from every angle, at every moment, and yet he looks impossibly so now, staring down at Charles with something like awe in his beautiful, beautiful eyes.

“I love you”, Edwin tells him, and Charles feels like dying, feels like he has come alive again. “I love you, too”, he answers, and it’s everything and more than he could ever has asked for and something he will never get enough of.

He surges up to kiss Edwin like his whole existence depends on it and Edwin kisses back with the same fervour, and Charles needs him more than he has ever needed anything before.

Although it is impossibly difficult to leave the warmth of Edwin’s skin, he pushes himself up, fingers slipping out, and maybe he is stretched enough, maybe it will hurt; Niko’s manga only shows so much about the process, and Charles hadn’t bothered to do more than perfunctory research otherwise. And anyway, he realises, while he sits back on Edwin’s thighs, trembling and looking down on the blotchy mess he has made of Edwin’s throat, maybe he wouldn’t mind a hint of pain, as long as if it was caused by Edwin.

When he looks down, his cock is leaking and so is Edwin’s, and it’s everything he never thought they could have, and maybe there is something poetic and poignant about that; maybe he will have to ask Edwin about it later. For now, it doesn’t matter, because Charles is burning up inside, every non-corporeal atom of his body aching for Edwin’s touch, his kisses, his hands on him.

“I’m gonna-”, Charles starts, squeezing more lotion on his hands and forgetting how to speak halfway through the sentence, because Edwin is watching him with so much desire in his eyes that it scrambles his brain. “I’m gonna touch you.” And he does.

Edwin’s cock is hot and silky in his hand, twitching as Charles spreads the lotion across his skin, and Charles has to stop himself from leaning down and tasting him again. They’ll have time for that later, he tells himself, and it is true and yet something Charles can hardly believe they will be granted.

Instead, he gives Edwin two, three slow strokes, watches the muscles under his skin work as Edwin chases his touch, fire burning him up. It’s like a physical need buried inside him, a void only Edwin can fill, and Charles knows he is trembling when he rises up on his knees, shaking when he positions himself awkwardly above Edwin’s lovely, leaking cock.

“I love you”, he tells him again, for no reason but that he wants to taste the words, and slowly lowers himself down onto Edwin’s cock. It’s strange at first, the pressure and the single point of warmth where they are touching, but then his body gives way and Edwin is inside of him, and the feeling is indescribable.

There is a hint of pain, like an after image from staring too long into the sun, but it’s nothing, hardly worth mentioning, because Edwin is hot and firm, spreading him open and moulding a space for himself inside of Charles’ body where he belongs, setting him aflame from the inside in the process.

He’s moaning Edwin’s name, hands pawing at his chest, and then Edwin reaches out and pulls him down, kisses Charles like he has never been kissed before. Edwin’s hands are on his shoulder and in his hair and it makes Edwin’s cock shift inside of him, and Charles is lost in this. His hips roll to get more friction, making Edwin gasp into his mouth, so he does it again, and again, and again, until they are moaning against each other’s lips, fingers trying to find purchase to ground themselves.

Every motion makes sparks fly up Charles’s spine, tingling down his arms to the tips of his fingers, and then Edwin rocks up in time with him, causing his cock to slide even deeper, and Charles moans like the sound was punched out of his lungs. He is clinging to Edwin now, grinding down onto him, and he could cease to exist like this happily, because Edwin is all around him, inside of him, on the tip of his tongue.

The friction is enough to make him gasp, almost makes him weep, but Edwin rolls his hips like he is trying to drive Charles out of his mind and some angle, some detail must change, because the head of his cock drags against a spot inside of Charles that makes him see stars.

He all but shouts out Edwin’s name, grinding down against him to get more of the pleasure, and Edwin gives it willingly. His teeth catch on Charles’ bottom lip as his hand slides down to rest on Charles’ thigh, gripping it like he needs to hold onto him to keep his sanity, and Charles understands it perfectly. “You feel so good”, he slurs into Edwin’s mouth between desperate rolls of his hips, and Edwin makes a little, wounded sound, holds him tighter. “I love you so much, I love you so much.”

Edwin seems to be beyond words, but that is okay, because he is still kissing Charles like he is drowning, fucking up into him just right, and Charles is lost in the motion and the pleasure and the love, until Edwin sneaks a hand between their bodies and grasps his cock.

And it’s too much.

It doesn’t even take a single stroke before Charles is coming, bucking up desperately into Edwin’s hand, grinding down onto his cock. The pleasure is unlike anything he has ever felt before, overwhelming him completely and leaving him breathless until he cannot tell where Edwin ends and he begins. His body is alight, and he is burning up and he couldn’t ask for anything better, so he sobs his love and devotion into Edwin’s open mouth and knows he will be heard.

It only takes a few moments longer until Edwin follows him, thrusting up into Charles’ willing body, holding him close, and if there is anything that feels better than falling apart around Edwin, it’s feeling him do the same underneath of Charles, because of him.

They ride out their orgasms together until Charles is weak and trembling above Edwin, all but collapsing on his chest. Slender arms come up to wrap around his middle, and Charles has felt loved before, feels loved every day now, but the motion still brings tears to his eyes as he snuggles into Edwin’s embrace.

For a long while, neither of them speaks, although there are a thousand things to be said, at least half of them I love you, but there are no words left in Charles’ mind.

Eventually, he presses a kiss, soft and sweet and tender, against one of the bruises he has left on Edwin’s collarbone, and Edwin’s arms tighten around him in response. And maybe that is all that needs to be said, after all.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #painland #paynland #charles x edwin #i cannot stop writing them it is insane #this is almost 7k of just them loving each other so so so so much and finally being able to do something about it (handjobs etc)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

go for it! ; yuuta okkotsu

synopsis; yuuta’s been crushing on you ever since the first group project you had together, but he’s too nervous to confess. luckily, he has some over-eager friends willing to help! step 1: ask for your number!

word count; 7.4k

contents; yuuta okkotsu/reader, gn!reader, university au, yuuta majors in creative writing and writes poetry in his spare time <3, no curses au, yuuta is a cutiepie, he’s also a loserboy, pining and longing, one-sided love, maki inumaki and panda are wingmen (but not very good ones), fluffy vibes, gojo makes a guest appearance (stay safe), literally just yuuta being whipped for like 7k words straight

a/n; im gonna have to edit this a lot i think….. but for now it should be fine :3 i love the boy!!

”you’re staring. again.”

yuuta flinches. a jolt overtakes him, running through his body, and the pen he’d been absently writing with slips from his fingers. it tumbles down to the ground with a soft thunk. 

gazing up at the shadow towering over him, his eyes are wide, a little flustered; like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. like he’s expecting a smack on the head from the person in front of him.

— it’s maki. 

and she looks displeased, lips pursed and a single eyebrow raised. unimpressed, as she stares him down — the same way he’d been looking at you just a second ago.

”they’re gonna think you’re a creep if they catch you, you know,” she sighs, shifting from one foot to another. carrying her bass in a case on her back.

”maki, c’mon,” comes from behind her, an even larger figure strolling up to the pair. grinning brightly, fluffy hair tousled by the afternoon breeze. ”cut him some slack!” 

”salmon,” a third voice joins in. inumaki’s got some green paint staining the sleeve of his hoodie, and his fingers are dirtied with charcoal.

his closest friends, all joining him on the table they usually frequent on campus. right next to a giant tree, casting a pleasantly cool shade and obscuring the irritating brightness of the sun.

maki, headstrong and resilient. infamously rude. a music major, primarily, though yuuta knows she has more than a couple minors. if you pay attention, you can see her almost everywhere on campus, and she always does well on exams. confident, enough so that just being around her makes yuuta feel a little more secure in himself.

panda, a big kid with a big heart, always wearing monochrome clothes. ‘panda’ can’t possibly be his real name, though yuuta’s never found the courage to ask. truthfully, he isn’t sure panda even has a major, or goes to this university at all — but nobody’s mentioned it yet, and he doubts they ever will.

and then inumaki, the quiet kid, always helpful and kind. a little teasing, too. selectively mute, speaking exclusively in rice ball ingredients, but yuuta has already begun adjusting to the thought behind his phrases. an art student with remarkable talent, from sculptures to comics to paintings. he mostly spends his lectures playing games on his phone, though. and he's the kindest guy yuuta knows.

his beloved friends. the reason he can smile through each day, even when it’s a little difficult.

and maki’s right, he knows she is. if you were to lock eyes with him, and realize he’d been glancing over at you for the past ten minutes… god, he doesn’t even want to think about it. you’d be weirded out for sure, wouldn’t you?

but yuuta just can’t help it. you’re far too radiant to ever look away from, smile much too pretty.

you’re just sitting there, laughing and talking with your friends, the same as any other day. comparing hand sizes with miwa, or leaning over to whisper in mai’s ear. snorting over something momo said, or trying to understand the code kokochi’s fiddling with on his laptop. just being yourself, with people you’re close to.

and yuuta desperately wishes he could be among them. wishes he could see your honeyed smile up close, hear the melodic lilt of your laughter, breathe in the lingering scent of your shampoo. he wishes he could speak to you without stuttering, without tripping over his feet — hang out with you outside of class. just something small, like studying together, or grabbing a bite to eat.

he wishes he could get to know you. 

yuuta thinks he must seem like a fool, to be so affected by your mere presence. everything comes to him so easily, when he looks at you; the pitter patter of his heart, his sweaty hands, the whirlwind of butterflies swirling in his chest. even just the way you twirl your hair or chew on your pencil is so mesmerizing. 

so all he can do is stare, hopeless, a moth to a flame. basking in the warmth of your gaze, directed at your friends.

hoping one day, maybe… that warmth will fall upon him, as well.

(maybe one day.)

”hellooo? earth to yuuta!”

”see? he’s hopeless.”

”mentaiko…”

”inumaki’s right. he’s a man in love!”

”he’s a boy with a stupid crush,” maki scoffs, picking at a piece of lint on her tank top. ”and we have a study session we need to get done. the exam’s next week, remember?”

exam.

yuuta shoots up, wasting no time in grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. the ring hanging around his neck dangles with the sudden movement, and he clutches onto it.

”ah — right!” he squeaks, apologetic. ”sorry, it completely slipped my mind —”

before his mind can begin to overthink every action he’s taken these past few hours, a hand reaches out to pat his shoulder. pat, pat. reassuring and stabilizing.

inumaki smiles at him. yuuta can’t see his mouth, from behind the fabric of his hoodie, but his eyes crinkle softly; and it’s enough to put yuuta’s heart at ease.

”don’t apologize,” maki says. simple, straightforward. ”let’s just get going. i need to do better than naoya did last time.”

”you’re still mad about that, huh?”

”he only got a higher score because i wasn’t on top of my game,” she grumbles, digging her nails into the pockets of her baseball jacket. ”he doesn’t even like music. he’s just taking the course to piss me off. grown ass man.”

a chuckle slips from yuuta’s lips. the warm breeze ruffles his hair, and he holds onto the strap of his backpack, following closely behind as his friends begin to leave. sending one final glance at your figure, over by a table near the apricot trees.

and that’s when it happens.

— he looks over at you, and finds that your eyes are already on him. 

a moment passes.

while yuuta struggles to find his breathing, your lips curl up into a soft smile. then you raise your hand, waving to him cheerily, teeth peeking out from between your lips. he can see it clearly, even with the distance between you. 

a smile that glimmers like a jewel, in the light of the sun. 

yuuta feels his lips part, mouth falling open ever so slightly. but he waves back, afraid to take too long, unable to stop the pounding of his heartbeat — smiling giddily, like a schoolgirl tripping over her feet. 

his friends just watch, wholly unimpressed.

”do you think he’d notice if i threw a rock at him?”

”maki!”

”what do you like about them, anyway?”

the question is unexpected. yuuta has to do a double take, eyes straying from his excerpt of sappho 31 up to the person seated across from him. tapping her pencil on the edge of the table, resting her sharp jaw on the heel of her palm. 

”huh?”

”them. your crush,” maki reiterates. ”what caught your attention? there’s got to be something, yeah?”

”oh?” panda chirps, leaning back in his chair. a teasing grin playing at his lips. “i thought you didn’t care about his silly little crush.”

”i don’t.” a huff pushes past her lips, hands reaching to fix her lazy ponytail, hair tie dangling from between her teeth. ”i’m just bored. i already know all this, anyway.”

”tuna mayo.”

”oh, are you curious too, inumaki?”

”well, out with it. why them?”

yuuta blinks. once, then twice — mind spinning in circles, as his friends await his answer.

and, truthfully, yuuta can’t pinpoint the exact moment he felt it. that burst of joy, that tinge of excitement — the puppy love that rika always spoke of. she was always good at verbalizing her emotions, in a way yuuta never could.

(he always knew he loved her, but he could never put it into words.)

and he knows that he likes you. he knows because every word you speak has him stumbling over what to say, because even a single smile sent his way makes the world feel so gentle. he knows because he’d probably throw himself into incoming traffic, if you just asked him to.

but he can’t put it into words. not spoken ones, anyhow — putting them on paper is one thing, the one thing he can do. writing out his love for you in similes and metaphors, sonettes and alexandrines. it’s how he copes with everything; writing and writing, til his fingers start to hurt. he can compare you to a dandelion, to the way cicadas buzz in the light of the sun. the scent of childhood. but it’s harder to speak it out loud, to turn the feelings into sounds — that’s maki’s specialty, not his.

why does yuuta like you?

he remembers it clear as day, but still can’t pinpoint the exact second he fell headfirst into love. it was more of a creeping realization, something soft and sweet trickling through his veins. that sinking feeling, how helplessly he fell for you.

it all started with a pencil.

in hindsight, it’s a little silly. but yuuta can’t bring himself to think back to that moment with anything other than fondness.

(your smile was just so bright.)

that day had been a disaster. he was nervous, painfully so, afraid of every single new thing he came across during his first week of uni. scatterbrained, running on almost no sleep, unsure of where to put his feet as he walked.

honestly — what kind of trainwreck forgets their pen and notebook during their very first workshop?

all that anxiety, all those hours spent overthinking, and he still couldn’t manage something so small. in the moment, he almost panicked; sitting with you, a total stranger, wholly unprepared for such a simple assignment. read a couple excerpts, analyze them on paper. all yuuta could do was stare blankly at his lap, frozen, throat dry. hands cold with sweat.

but then you smiled.

”did you forget your notebook?” you had asked, voice set to a soothing tilt. calm, not angry or impatient.

”ah — yeah, i, um…” yuuta could only swallow thickly, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. ”i’m sorry. i haven't been sleeping well, so —”

”hey, hey, it’s fine!” you chuckled, teeth peeking out from between your lips. ”i totally get it. i almost forgot my laptop at yesterday’s lecture. we can just share!”

then you pushed your notebook closer to him, inviting him in. moving your chair a little, angling it towards him. but all yuuta could think of was how pretty your smile looked, how kind your presence felt.

”here you go,” you grinned, snapping him out of his trance. ”you can use this.”

a pencil. yuuta took it from your opened palm, gazing at it in wonder. an orange-coloured, halloween-themed pumpkin design. completely out of season. the tiny pumpkin was cute, though.

such a casual kindness. but maybe that's exactly why it made his heart flutter so deeply; as if you did it without even really thinking. as if kindness comes easy, to you.

that’s probably how it began. by the time the workshop ended, yuuta knew that he liked you, and he knew that he wanted nothing more than to be your friend.

(subconsciously, his fingers tap at the zipper of his backpack. the pumpkin pen is still with him, after you waved him off with a smooth you can keep it, if you want. yuuta has found that he always writes best when he uses it.)

”well?”

maki’s voice snaps him out of his trip down memory lane, and he stumbles for something to say. what does he like about you?

squirming, yuuta feels his face heat up, as he thinks of you. all he can see is your smile, the kindness in the tilt of your voice. the brightness of the grin you sent his way. warm and saccharine, like the sun peeking out after a downpour — when the streets smell like honeydew and rain.

”they’re just… so cool,” he finally sighs, a dreamy look smoothing over his face. ”they’re so nice. and their smile is so beautiful. they’re so smart, too — god, you should see the way they write — everything about them is just…”

yuuta blushes a deep red, smiling even still. lovesick. ”.. so, so wonderful.”

maki freezes in the midst of the tapping of her pencil. panda stops kicking at the foot of the table. and inumaki looks away from his phone, messing up his full combo.

a moment of silence passes. the study hall grows quiet, and yuuta looks down at his lap; suddenly embarrassed. sipping from his little carton of apple juice.

”hey…” panda starts, delicate. somehow, yuuta dreads the teasing edge to his voice. ”have you thought about confessing to them, yuuta?”

”what?” the boy in question squeaks, choking on his juice. ”no, of course not!”

”why?” maki deadpans. popping a chip into her mouth. ”you’re head over heels, right? might as well do something about it.”

inumaki hums. affirmative.

”i… don’t know,” yuuta sighs. a heavy breath, a little wobbly. meek. ”they’d just reject me, wouldn’t they? i mean…”

(you’re totally out of his league. right?)

maki scoffs, sitting up a little straighter. there’s an angered kind of affection in her eyes. ”you’re just deciding that all on your own. how would you know how they feel?”

the gaze she sends his way is intense. it always has been. there’s a kindness to it, though, something that makes yuuta want to look her in the eye — but he can’t, eyes still locked on his hands, resting in his lap. ”… still,” he manages a weak smile, somewhat sheepish. ”even if i wanted to, there’s no way i could. i’m too much of a coward.”

…

maki slams her textbook shut. the sound is sudden, loud. yuuta flinches, and a wince leaves inumaki’s lips. panda just watches her, snacking on some chips, a mild curiousity simmering in his eyes.

the girl in question gets up from her seat, grabbing her bass case and throwing it over her shoulder. then she looks at yuuta, eyes full of decision.

”— well, lucky for you, we’ve got some time to spare.”

a blink. yuuta gazes up at the girl in front of him, tilting his head in confusion.

maki sighs. exasperated. ”i’m saying we’ll help you. don’t look so resigned, dumbass.”

at that, panda gets up too — suddenly excited. ”are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

she just huffs, smiling even still. ”probably not. but let’s hear it.”

the grin on his face widens. he scribbles something down in his notebook, showing off the writing proudly. ”operation: get yuuta to confess is about to commence!”

inumaki turns off his phone. sitting up straight, arms decisively crossed, a strangely serious expression on his face. completely invested.

”wait — wait!” yuuta stutters, eyes wide with flustered shock. ”don’t i get a say in this?”

”of course not.”

”nope!”

”bonito flakes.”

”b… but —”

”alright, so here’s what i’m thinking,” panda begins, writing down unintelligible notes on the pages of his tattered notebook. ”we need to start small. we don’t want yuuta getting heart palpitations and fainting in the middle of campus, so —”

”tuna mayo?”

”yeah, that’s perfect! hang on, lemme just…”

”let me see. i don’t want you messing this up.”

yuuta’s voice comes out tiny, as it falls from his lips. more of a squeaky breath. ”guys, i really — you don’t need to —”

panda continues to scribble in the notebook, engrossed, arm hanging off maki’s shoulder as they go over the contents. inumaki nods along, walking over to them with lazy steps. yuuta’s protests go unnoticed, and all he can do is watch them mutter under their breaths.

”— okay. listen up, yuuta.”

he raises his head, and meets maki’s sharp eyes. she’s smiling, strolling over to place the notebook right in front of him. ”here’s how this is gonna go.”

yuuta looks down. 

everything is written out with a pink sharpie, glittery and pretty. there are little hearts doodled out across the pages, and he can tell exactly which ones were drawn by who. all of them look messy, with the exception of inumaki’s perfect little shapes. 

and there, right in the middle, lies a line of text.

panda reads it out, voice loud and cheery, while maki and inumaki stick close. all smiling, as a chill crawls down yuuta’s spine.

”step 1: ask for their number!”

plan a

”okay, so… what am i supposed to do, exactly?”

panda throws an arm over yuuta’s shoulder, and he’s enveloped by the scent of fresh sunlight. the weight is heavy, a comfort. ”we’re going with my plan first! it’s the best one, so don’t worry.”

”i don’t know about that,” maki scoffs. ”we can’t ask mai. best case scenario, she’ll laugh at us a little and say no.”

inumaki hums. he rips out a part of the notebook he’s been tasked with carrying, doodling a little face and showing it to the rest of his friends.

yuuta leans in close. it’s a cute doodle, charming. and he can tell who it’s supposed to depict. miwa kasumi.

”yeah, she’s our best bet,” maki sighs, brushing some specks of dust off her jeans. ”she seems like the nicest one in that group.”

yuuta tilts his head, brows furrowed in confusion. he plays with the ring hanging around his neck, a nervous tick he’s never managed to get rid of. ”wait, so…” he trails off, unsure. ”what are we doing, exactly?”

panda tugs him closer, a friendly smile on his face. ”we’re going to their friends for help!” he beams. ”that’ll be easier for you, right?”

a blink. yuuta gazes into the eyes of his friend, something soft blooming in his eyes.

they can be a chaotic bunch — but they’re still so considerate. considerate enough to know asking for your number straight out would be too much for him. considerate enough to think of his comfort, in a way no one else has bothered to before.

(faced with such immense understanding, such genuine friendship, how could he ever bear to let them down?)

”… alright,” yuuta gulps, clutching his ring as if to give him courage. managing a smile. ”let’s do this, then!”

with newfound determination, the four of them seek out miwa kasumi. it doesn’t take too long — she’s studying, going over legal codes in the library, eyes narrowed in concentration. and she isn’t alone.

”hey, miwa. muta.”

the pair look up from their respective textbooks and laptop, meeting the gaze of a certain maki zenin, waltzing over to their table. miwa smiles, but kokichi doesn’t say anything.

”hi, maki! how are you?”

”i’m good,” she answers, straight to the point; but her eyes soften a little. then she gestures towards yuuta with a tilt of her head. ”sorry, but this guy needs your help.” 

”hm?” miwa shifts in her seat, meeting yuuta’s nervous gaze, as he steps forward. ”ah, you’re… okkotsu, right?”

”ah, yeah! sorry for interrupting you two…”

”no, no! please, don’t worry about it,” she grins. sweet and soft, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. ”we don't mind. right?”

kokichi still doesn’t say anything. but he nods, when miwa meets his eyes — and yuuta notices that they seem a lot softer when she does.

”so, here’s how it is…”

panda explains the situation to the pair. yuuta looks down at the floor, face flushed as he shifts from foot to foot. by the time he’s finished, miwa looks wholly invested, and kokichi looks a little less like all he wants is for them to leave him and miwa be.

”awww, that’s so sweet!!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. eyes glimmering with excitement.

”right,” maki hums. already a little impatient. ”so, basically — we need their number.”

”… ah. well, um —” miwa trails off, averting her gaze. she looks over at kokichi, but he only shrugs, going back to his coding. ”see, here’s the thing…”

with an apologetic look in her eyes, she turns to yuuta. ”i support you 100% — but i dunno if it’d feel right to just… give away their number like that, you know?” she mumbles, sheepishly. ”i think you should ask them, yourself. that’d be way more romantic!”

”yeah, but that’s a tall hurdle for a socially anxious guy…” panda mutters, patting yuuta’s back.

”still! i’m sure they’d appreciate you being direct.” miwa closes her eyes, a dreamy expression painted on her face. ”i’d be elated if someone asked for my number like that!! all stuttering and shy… it’d be so cute!”

(if anyone notices kokichi stiffening beside her, they don’t mention it.)

maki sighs, resigned. ”well, i don’t think we’re getting any numbers here. good. what kind of creep just texts someone out of nowhere, anyway?”

”i thought it was a good plan!” panda protests, pouting a little. maki shoots him a look.

”it was an awful plan. what were you planning to say? hey, i forced your friend to give me your number, but would you want to hang out sometime?” she crosses her arms with a sharp scoff. ”i’d beat your ass!”

panda grumbles a little under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. 

”sorry i couldn’t be of more help,” miwa mumbles, sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. ”good luck, though! i hope they say yes!”

”thanks, miwa,” yuuta smiles, already in the process of being tugged away by his friends. ”i really appreciate it!”

plan a

plan b

”alright, inumaki’s turn. what’s your take on the situation, mister?”

the boy in question sits up straight, back resting against a tree trunk. he writes something down, and yuuta waits, patiently — absentmindedly staring at the white petals of the apricot trees on campus. pure, fleeting, sweet blossoms unfurling before him.

when he’s finished, inumaki presents the page to yuuta, and everyone gathers round. reading the writing, eyes trailing over his little doodles. panda grins, and maki strokes her chin in contemplation.

”you’re a genius, inu!”

”well, it’s probably the easiest way to go about it…”

yuuta purses his lips. it’s a good plan, he thinks; writing out a note, and passing it to you in the middle of class. that way, he won’t have to turn his feelings into sounds, won’t have to speak them out loud. there’s a safety to it, the trickling of ink across blank papers. one that’s never failed him.

”… that should work,” he mumbles, and inumaki visibly brightens. ”what am i supposed to write, though?”

”just be straightforward.”

”not seconded!” panda huffs, crossing his legs. ”you need to be dramatic. heartfelt. that’ll catch their attention!” he stops to think for a moment, a hum buzzing loudly in his throat. ”hey — why not write them a love poem? put those skills to good use!”

”a love poem?” yuuta squeaks, a slight heat rising to the tips of his ears. ”there’s no way i could do that! and i’m not skilled, i —”

a pause. yuuta bites his lip.

”… it’d just be embarrassing,” he finally mutters, playing with his ring.

(he wonders what rika would think, if she were here. what she’d advise him to do — would she like the love poem idea? probably.)

”well, you could at least try. who knows, maybe they’ll like it,” maki attempts to reassure him, chewing at a piece of gum. ”if they’re anything like miwa, it’ll be easy.”

gnawing at his bottom lip, yuuta emits an anxious hum. deep in thought. maybe you would like it, but… what if you just think it’s cheesy?

maki observes him, intently. listening to the emotions behind his silence. tapping the pads of her fingers on her knee, in a rhythmic motion. ”… at least try writing something out,” she says. ”if you can’t think of anything, then just copy some random old guy. what was his name, uh — catallas? or something?”

yuuta’s gaze snaps up, eyes gone wide. ”catullus?” he gapes, in disbelief. ”are you insane? do you even know what kind of poems he wrote?”

maki shoots him a confused look, and a tilt of her head. ”isn’t he the ’give me a thousand kisses’ guy?”

”he is, but that’s —” a sigh, exasperated. flustered, as it flows from his parted lips. then he shakes his head. ”nevermind. it doesn’t matter.”

”tuna…” inumaki mumbles, nudging yuuta’s shoulder with his head. a silent encouragement. and even with no words, yuuta knows what he’s trying to say.

just be yourself. this is your specialty, right? 

write from your heart.

”inumaki…” yuuta meets his gaze, and is met with a pair of warm eyes. a friendly punch meets his shoulder, soft and delicate. kind.

”… alright. i’ll write it!”

”that’s the spirit!” panda grins. ”just give it to them during tomorrow’s lecture.”

”yeah,” yuuta nods, mustering the courage to smile. ”i will!”

when yuuta gets home that night, he makes himself a cup of coffee with too much sugar, and gets ready to write.

he listens to maki’s acoustic guitar covers through his headphones, curled up with the fluffy blanket panda gave him, and munches on a hastily made onigiri to give himself much-needed energy.

(writing with a certain pumpkin-themed pencil, basking in the scratching of lead against blank pages.)

his hands are shaking.

it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. that nervous shiver of his bones, the rattling of his skeleton. you’re sitting right next to him, so close he can smell the shampoo you use, the mint off your breath —

and yuuta can’t seem to hand you the note.

he spent all last night writing it. putting every single little drop of his love into every single little word. but that fear of rejection still remains, rendering him useless, unable to act.

you’re listening to the lecture, but only halfheartedly, absentmindedly doodling in your notebook. out of boredom, he assumes.

it’s the perfect moment to strike.

yuuta’s hands are shaking, and his heartbeat is stuttering, crawling up his throat. he takes a sip of water, hoping it’ll make the dry sensation go away, but it doesn’t work.

(just be yourself.)

with a deep intake of breath, he pushes the note over to you — not daring to look your way.

his eyes remain glued on the laptop screen in front of him, but he hears you pick it up, hears the rustling of paper as you unfold it. his heart echoes with a similar rhythm, unstable, borderline erratic. the rest of the lecture passes by slowly, minute by minute, at an agonizing pace.

when it finally ends, yuuta has to restrain the urge to run away — turning towards you slowly, hesitantly, as if just the sight of you could blind him if he isn’t careful. but you’re already looking at him. and you’re smiling.

”that was so good, yuuta!”

….

huh?

”sorry, but i honestly don’t have any feedback,” you mumble, eyes trailing over the note again. ”i like it a lot. i didn’t know you wrote poetry!”

”… ah.”  yuuta stumbles for something to say. staring into your eyes, blankly. dumbly. ”t.. thank you! i’m glad you liked it.”

with a brief shake of your head, you smile, and something sickly sweet unfurls in his chest. ”not at all. thanks for letting me read it! i’m sorry i can’t really help you improve…”

mentally, yuuta falls to his knees. places his palms on the floor and dry heaves, clutching his heart. did you not get it? was he not clear enough? he wrote it with you in mind, so —

”maybe you could show it to professor nanami?” you suggest, unaware of the turmoil within the boy to your right. ”i'm sure he’ll be a great help! he can seem a bit intimidating, but he’s nice.”

”.. yeah,” yuuta smiles, weakly. ”i’ll do that. thanks again.”

for a moment, he isn’t even upset. because you flash him another bright smile, and suddenly, even the frustration of yet another setback doesn’t feel so awful.

(maybe it’s fine, he thinks. maybe this is enough; speaking to you, getting to see your smile up close. maybe he doesn’t need anything else, after all.)

”so?” maki questions, waiting for him outside of class with his other two friends. ”how’d it go?”

shoulders slumped, but still wearing a smile on his face, yuuta chuckles. it comes out sounding a little strangled. ”they… thought i wanted their feedback on my poetry.”

….

”what.”

panda attempt to stifle his laughter, but it doesn’t really work. inumaki elbows him gently, but yuuta sees his eyes crinkle, too. he breathes out a low chuckle. ”they liked the poem, at least. so i’m happy.”

a sigh falls from maki’s lips, and she waltzes over to him, a hand on her hip. the other reaches out for the note in his palm. ”let me see.”

quickly unfolding it, her eyes trail across the words on the pages, the flowery lines of writing —

and then she shoots him an unimpressed look.

”.. yuuta,” she pinches the bridge of her nose. ”what the hell is this? you didn’t even mention their number.”

panda leans over her shoulder, peeking at the text. eyes glancing over a couple lines, riddled with sugarsweet metaphors. ”uh, wow. you… really got into it, huh?”

a groan leaves yuuta’s lips, the sound muffled as he cradles his head in his hands. ”please don’t say anything else. i just wanna crawl into a hole and die…”

inumaki shakes his head, erratic, pointing at the poem with shining eyes. ”mentaiko!”

”ah, you liked it? thanks, inumaki…”

the boy in question smiles, shooting yuuta a thumbs up. he returns it with a small smile of his own.

surrounded by his friends, all he can do is bask in their warmth — and the memory of the smile you gave him.

plan a plan b

plan c

a groan fills the air, as yuuta slumps over the table. cheek pressed against the cold wood, absently kicking his legs, voice meek and defeated.

”this is never gonna work,” he mutters under his breath. eyes devoid of hope. ” i’m just not cut out for this, guys…”

”aw, c’mon….” panda reaches over to ruffle his hair, palm big and warm. ”don’t give up hope! you want to grow closer to them, don’t you?”

”i do, but…” he sighs. ”this isn’t going very well, is it…?”

inumaki frowns, sending yuuta a sympathetic glance.

”oh, quit moping already!” maki grumbles. ”we just need to keep brainstorming. isn’t it time for my plan, yet?”

”should we really even keep going…?” another sigh, heavy with fatigue. yuuta’s mind spins in circles, tiring him out. rendering him a bit cynical. ”i mean… maybe it’s fine if things stay this way.”

a moment passes. maki looks at him, emitting a soft scoff. ”what, so you’re just gonna keep pining for the rest of the term?”

”that’s the plan.”

”yuuta…” panda pouts, shoes bumping against his beneath the table. ”be more positive! just think about it; with every step you take, you get closer to confessing!”

yet another groan. this one is deep, riddled with exhaustion. muffled into the table. ”that’s the scariest part…”

before either of his friends can begin to persuade him otherwise, encourage him further, a sing-songy voice echoes throughout the air. loud, cheery — a little bit obnoxious.

”oh? did someone just say confess?”

at the same instant the sound reaches their ears, a chill runs down the youths’ spines. in tandem with each other, they raise their heads; gazes falling on a certain satoru gojo.

panda and maki are the first to act, speaking simultaneously as the white haired man inches closer. 

”— no.”

maki closes the notebook containing operation: get yuuta to confess, right before their professor can get close enough to see it. then she turns towards him, shooting him a cold look.

”your hearing’s getting bad,” she hums. ”maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.”

a pout. gojo takes a seat right beside her, uncomfortably long legs bumping against every single other pair of shoes beneath the table.

”oh, c’mon. you know i heard you.” his hand reaches out to ruffle her hair, but she smacks it away. ”you’re starting to sound just like megumi, y’know that?”

maki grits her teeth. ”guess it’s a genetic thing,” she huffs. ”now can you leave? don’t you have papers to grade?”

”don’t you have papers to write?” gojo smirks, a teasing mirth in his eyes. hidden behind his sunglasses. maki ignores him. 

placing his palms on the table, he leans a little closer, lips curled up into a cheshire grin. foreboding. ”sooo… yuuta’s got himself a little crush, huh?” he teases. ”tell your favorite professor allll about it. maybe i can help!”

”professor geto is our favorite,” maki shoots back, instantaneous.

a soft huff. there’s something sour in gojo’s expression, now. ”that guy? really?”

before the two can argue further, yuuta takes the opportunity to to speak. smiling apologetically, polite and sweet. ”thanks, mr. gojo, but…”

”he doesn't need your help,” maki cuts in. so much for diffusing the tension. ”and do you really expect us to believe you get girls?”

”wha — rude!” gojo scoffs. ”for your information, i’m a natural charmer!”

… 

a moment passes. then another.

”… tough crowd,” he clicks his tongue, met only with four blank stares. ”but, really — let me help! i'm your professor, you know?”

and this time, yuuta thinks that gojo’s smile looks just a little more sincere. something kind and gentle in the way his lips curl up, like a father’s affection for their children. something that makes yuuta falter.

(maki might like mr. geto more — but when it comes to yuuta, his favorite professor is a no-brainer.)

so he speaks up, again. ”we can at least hear him out, right…?” maki shoots him an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t back down. ”we’re stuck, anyway…”

and just like that, gojo brightens. it’s obvious, in the way he sits up, more alert. in the way his grin grows wider. ”right? what you need is the perspective of someone more experienced.”

”have you even talked to a girl before?”

”i see him at ieiri’s office, sometimes.”

”salmon.”

”isn’t she a lesbian? that doesn’t count. i mean, like, in a romantic context.”

”i thought mr. gojo was gay, too?”

”what? no way. have you seen the way he’s dressed —?”

gojo clears his throat, voice loud and grating. demanding attention, cutting his eager students off. ”anyway,” he chirps. ”gather round, children! i’ll tell you exactly how to ask the person you like for their number.”

”wh —” yuuta blinks. ”how’d you…?”

”operation ’get yuuta to confess!’, step 1: ask for their number!” gojo repeats, grinning ear to ear. voice rich with amusement. ”i like the glitter. it’s a nice touch.”

maki huffs. looks like she didn’t close it fast enough.

begrudgingly, the youths quiet down, finally willing to hear their professor out. and gojo seems satisfied, at last, speaking in a hushed whisper; eerily serious all of a sudden. ”ok, so here’s what you do…”

everything goes silent. yuuta strains his ears, and gojo parts his lips. 

”— just ask them! easy, right?

….

”let’s go, yuuta.”

”mentaiko.”

”i heard they're serving those sandwiches you like at the cafeteria today! let's hurry before they run out.”

”ah — i was just kidding!” gojo laughs, as his students get up from their seats. ”i have an actual answer!”

maki grabs her bass, inumaki takes the notebook, and panda ushers yuuta away. they begin to walk down the hall, ignoring the pleas of the man behind them. pouting, as his shout echoes throughout the hallway. 

”kids! come back!”

plan a plan b plan c

plan d

”okay, so this is going absolutely nowhere.”

relishing in the shadow cast by the giant campus tree, the four friends sit on their usual table, sandwiches in hand. yuuta takes a bite of his, tentative. a little disheartened.

”really, guys… i appreciate it a lot, but maybe we should stop here.”

maki huffs. reaching across the table, she gently smacks him over the head with her can of sprite. ”no way. we still haven’t tried my plan.”

he leans back, a little further, a hesitant look in his eyes. the sun shines down, relentless, but the air smells like rain. in the distance he sees clouds, dark, approaching at a slow pace.

an omen, he thinks. a reason not to speak out.

rika always liked the rain. she liked the scent that came with it, the puddles she could jump in. she liked shaking the branches of tiny trees, just to see him jolt and squeak as the raindrops hit him.

the ring around his neck weighs heavy on his heart. the promise of it, the oath within the silver.

(when we grow up, let’s get married!)

”earth to yuuta!”

his eyes flutter open.

the sun shines down, embracing the contours of his face. painting his world yellow. from this angle, staring up at the tree, he can see it breaking through; between the gaps of the green leaves, the white blossoms. forcing its way into his line of vision.

a flicker of hope.

”do you want to hear the plan or not?” maki scoffs, crossing her arms and tapping at her elbow. impatient.

yuuta meets her gaze, finding it in him to muster up just a little more determination. ”yeah,” he breathes. ”i do.”

a smile blooms on her face. ”good. alright.”

panda and inumaki inch closer to the pair, careful not to knock over the cans of soda resting on the table. in a mess of limbs and tousled hair, they gather round.

this is it, yuuta thinks — the final plan. if it fails, he’ll just have to keep pining from afar. memorizing your smile, over and over, until you graduate and part ways. 

this is it.

maki parts her lips.

”— just ask them,” she says. ”straight out.”

silence. 

a moment passes. a soft, pleasant breeze flits by, caressing yuuta’s skin. his ring sways with the wind, gently. 

”… huh?!”

panda furrow his brows, leaning closer with his palms on his knees. ”i thought we agreed that was stupid!” inumaki huffs out a low affirmative noise, holding his sketchbook tightly to his chest. but maki only puffs out her chest.

yuuta tilts his head, with a soft furrow of his brows. ”didn’t you just cuss out mr. gojo for suggesting that…?”

”well, it’s dumb when he says it…” she mutters, under her breath. then her gaze turns firm. ”look — yuuta.”

when the two lock eyes, he notices a steadfast determination, glimmering in her irises. something almost burning.

”you aren’t going to get anywhere if you’re too cowardly to even look them in the eye,” she tells him, not allowing him to squirm away from the eye contact. ”you guys can come up with those convoluted plans all you want, but there’s no way you’ll grow closer if you can’t face them.”

tousling her hair, softly, maki lets out a sigh. there’s a kindness to it, distinct. he can tell she’s trying to be tactful. 

”if you really want to get to know them, then you have to be direct. and you have to believe in yourself. you’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that they’ll say no — but that’s just dumb.”

panda winces, under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. maybe this is exactly what yuuta needs to hear.

the boy in question listens, the eyes of his friend boring into his own. determined, confident, sincere — everything he isn’t. everything he wants to be.

”even if you don’t believe it, you’re a charming guy. we all think so,” she continues, matter-of-factly. angered affection overflowing in her voice.

”have some confidence, dammit!”

a moment passes. yuuta feels his lips part, ever so slightly. a little speechless.

panda and inumaki sit shoulder to shoulder, hands over their eyes, shielding themselves from the sight in front of them. comically, as if it’s too bright to look at directly. 

”this… overflowing tough love…!”

”salmon roe…!”

maki grins, all teeth, a little wolfish. but kind. ”the worst thing they can say is no, right? 

yuuta blinks. ”maki…” he mumbles, looking into her eyes, a certain sensation running through his chest. a kind of confidence. passed on from her to him — one friend to another. the most natural exchange in the world.

then he smiles. a little meek, somewhat awkward — but bright. ”yeah. yeah, you’re right!”

the lazy grin on her lips only deepens, as she gets up to her feet, dusting non-existent dirt off her jeans. reaching a hand out for yuuta to take. ”c’mon, loser. shape up. you’re gonna steal their heart, aren’t you?”

a moment passes.

yuuta takes her hand in his. ”i am,” he swallows down a gulp. willing his voice to sound even a little bit self-assured.

and she pulls him up, effortlessly, overflowing with a natural resilience. still grinning cheekily. encouraging him. ”you’re gonna go out there and do your best, right?”

”i — i am!”

another voice chimes in. ”you’re gonna finish my essay for me this week, right?”

”i am!”

…

”wait —”

maki hits panda over the head with a soft thwack. a wince leaves his lips, and inumaki giggles, quieting down when maki sends him a warning glance.

”don’t throw him off his game,” she huffs. then she turns to yuuta once more. ”let’s go find them. alright, loverboy?”

a smile blooms on his lips. grateful, to be surrounded by such sunny people. ones that make it a little easier to smile each day. ”right.”

— but before either of them can take a step forward, a warm voice spills into the open air.

”um, yuuta?”

the boy in question stops in his tracks. he feels his eyes widen, spinning on his heels, hair ruffled by the breeze — turning to look at the source of the sound. 

it’s you.

you, with your sunkissed smile, that inviting voice. that soothing, soothing presence. one that has his heartbeat picking up in speed, hands growing sweaty, throat running dry. one that makes him feel a little bit feverish. and you’re looking right at him, into his eyes.

”hey!” he sputters, blinking rapidly to convince himself that he isn’t hallucinating. but you just keep smiling, answering his awkward greeting without skipping a beat.

”hi! sorry, could i just… talk to you, for a second?” 

he blinks. the world stops spinning.

(you… want to talk….

to him?)

attempting to find the words, any words, he opens his mouth — but nothing comes out. not a single syllable, no vowels, not even a sound. nothing at all.

he can only stare, star-struck.

it’s not until his friends push him forward that he’s snapped out of it; they surround him, on all sides, wearing matching grins. teasing and excited.

”don’t worry, he’s all yours!”

”have fun, you two!”

”salmon!”

— then they’re off. 

yuuta tries to reach for their sleeves, in a weak attempt to keep them from leaving, but they’re gone before he can even blink. leaving him all alone, with someone he can’t talk to without experiencing intense symptoms of heart failure. 

he stumbles for something to say, again, but thankfully you beat him to it.

”sorry for interrupting you guys,” you say, voice set to a low tilt. apologetic. and his throat unclogs, a little.

”ah, no, it’s fine!” he smiles, maybe a little too giddy. wanting so badly to reassure you, to put you at ease. ”i’m happy to speak to you!”

…

(oh god oh no why did i say that —)

your smile widens, blooming like a flower in the sunlight. unfurling in front of his very eyes. ”me too!” you say, excitedly. ”i feel like you and i have been talking more, recently… it’s nice.”

eyes crinkling, you wringle your hands together, and look at him fondly. yuuta’s surprised he manages to keep his knees from buckling.

”i think so too!” he grins, ears pink and dimples showing. 

both of you smile. the breeze curls around your hair, illuminating the colour of your eyes. yuuta stops breathing, for a moment — just taking it all in.

”so — anyway…” you murmur, fiddling with the fabric of your pants. ”um… haha. sorry, i’m — a little nervous…”

yuuta blinks.

(he knows where this is going. all the signs are there, right in front of him; the flush of your cheeks, the nervous tapping of your fingers, the hesitance in your eyes. he’s read enough shoujo manga — he knows what this means.)

and he almost can’t believe it.

all he can do is keep smiling, hoping it’ll give you even a fraction of the peace that your smile brings him. ”don’t be,” he says, voice soothing. scratching the back of his head. ”whatever it is, i’ll — um. i’ll listen, so…”

he clears his throat. swallowing thickly.

”just — whenever you're ready.”

there’s no mistaking it. your ears are painted pink, and you’re gnawing at your bottom lip. fiddling with your fingers and avoiding his gaze, with a soft inhale, clear air filling your lungs. he wonders if your throat feels as dry as his, if your heart is beating even half as fast.

”um… okay, so…” you mumble, eyes unable to stay in one place for too long. a soft bout of laughter escapes you, and he can tell you’re trying to stave off your own nervosity; it sends a pang of ache running through his chest.

he wants to tell you that there’s no need to be nervous. that he’d listen to anything you have say, absolutely anything, no matter what it is.

he wants to tell you that he’d never let you down, that he’d have to be foolish to even think the thought.

he wants to tell you that he’ll hear you out. whenever, wherever. for as long as you need.

”do you, um…”

a gulp. your eyes find his, and there’s a soft kind of decisiveness in them. 

here it comes, he thinks. here it comes.

yuuta feels the heat on his cheeks, ears burning. and he hears the patter of his heartbeat, loud and heavy, echoing in his muddled mind like a mantra. but his chest feels light; fluttery, butterflies dancing around uncontrollably. 

clutching the ring around his neck, subconsciously, he looks you in the eye.

they’re bright, glimmering like little galaxies — or maybe more like summer skies. painted over with a warm hue, something nostalgic and sweet, so pretty it hurts. if he strains his eyes enough, he’s almost sure he can see the swirling of fluffy clouds in the depths of your irises.

a smile rests on your lips. it's almost overwhelmingly sweet, albeit a little shy, as you part your pretty lips. voice soaked in nervosity, tingly and shaky, and something he knows to be puppy love.

a shallow, dry intake of breath. yuuta braces himself.

here it comes. 

your voice spills out into the air, dripping with honey and magnolias. he thinks to himself that he’d like to hear the melodic lilt of it every single day; before going to bed, right after waking up. walking to campus together, heading back to the dorms when the sky gets dark.

just the sound alone would be enough.

subconsciously, he tugs on the strap of his backpack. thinking of the pencil inside it. his lucky charm, along with the ring around his neck — ordinary objects, both too precious for words.

(when we grow up, let’s get married!

you can keep it, if you want.)

here it comes, yuuta thinks.

a new beginning.

he strains his ears, and purses his lips, and watches your lips move as you finally ask —

”do you have maki’s number?”

(somewhere in the distance, from an inconspicuous bush, the muffled screams of three students and one professor resounds.)

#sorry yuuta T_T #I LOVE THIS BOY!! W MY WHOLE CHEST!!! (i just happen to also love maki oops) #dont worry abt it guys the obvious solution here is yutamaki x reader🥳 #i love college yuuta sm aaa…. hes so sweet…. i wanna pick him up n throw him against a wall #sorry. im sorry #he gives me cuteness aggression ok😥😥 #writing for inumaki makes me feel so goofy... why am i out here going “salmon salmon mentaiko”.......... #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x you #yuuta x reader #jjk yuuta #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuuta fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk college au

[ecoamerica]

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[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Han are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion to catch up on the life after the retreat (7k words)

Author's note: Just a reason to use THEE Han Jisung pic hehehe

HOST: Welcome back to the Too Hot To Handle Extra Hot reunion episode. Now, on my virtual sofa is a pair who actually managed to keep their hands to themselves, well, most of the time. Before we meet them, let's have a look at their time in the villa!

[VIDEO PLAYS]

HOST: Here they are, everyone! The winner of Too Hot To Handle season 3! [Applauds]

YOU: [Squeals] Hi! HAN: [Waves hand]

HOST: First, congratulations on winning Too Hot To Handle. I literally jumped on my seat when you were announced winners. What have you done with the money?

HAN: I spoiled my family with the money and shortly, after the retreat, we also took a vacation to celebrate our win [grins]

HOST: How about you, my darling?

YOU: The same for me. I treated my mom to a shopping spree and went out with some friends.

HOST: Honestly guys, I was genuinely happy for you both when Han, you asked her to be your girlfriend.

HAN: I owe that one to her, actually.

YOU: No, really. The way you've done it was just perfect [smiles]

HAN: She thought I was joking though [chuckles]

YOU: Obviously, because we joked around a lot and we talked about things then suddenly he asked me to be his girlfriend so I was like what? And he was like 'I'm serious' and my eyes got teary a bit [laughs]

YOU: It was lovely [smiles]

HOST: I'm holding myself back from asking this question but I think we all want to know if you are still together.

HAN: [Laughs]

YOU: [Laughs] No, we're not.

HOST: [Frowns] How did it end? What happened? Talk to me, guys.

YOU: We got used to each other, we always had each other and were with each other every day during the retreat, and then suddenly, nothing at all.

HAN: Yeah.

YOU: It was just really hard but we stayed in contact. We still text each other every other day, FaceTime.

HAN: Yeah [Nods]

YOU: And we're still close, it's still us [Smiles]

HOST: Flabbergasted. Completely flabbergasted. It's almost like... you started as friends, developed and blossomed, got in a relationship and you guys went on a vacation together then... you guys become friends again?

HAN: Yeah [laughs]

YOU: [Laughs]

HOST: Is it completely dead though? Cause I still can see the chemistry there, I'm not going to lie. Han close your ears because I'm going to ask the girl first.

HAN: [Covers ears]

HOST: My darling, will you ever get back with Han

YOU: [Sheepishly smiles] I don't know. I haven't been dating in a long time so you never know what could happen.

HOST: Okay girl, now it's your turn to cover your ears.

YOU: Okay [covers ears]

HOST: Han, will you ever get back with her?HAN: Can't say anything [chuckles] because I haven't seen her in a while but who knows? [Shrugs]

HAN: But we shared such an incredible journey and we'll always be able to celebrate that so who knows, really.

HOST: Well, I think you guys are well-deserved winners.

HAN: Thank you!

HOST: Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me.

YOU: Thank you. Bye [blows kisses]

HAN: [Waves hand]

-

A MONTH LATER

Maybe it is what it seems to be.

Han invited you to see him performing and that's all, you shouldn't be overthinking it. It's just a friendly gesture because that's what you are now, just a friend to him.

Why you dressed nicely is because you wanted to look good and why you're nervous is because you haven't seen him in a while, these are all reasonable.

You arrived at the bar where he's going to perform a few minutes late, not sure what to do first, get a drink or try to find him first?

Since you need a little liquor courage, you head to the bar to order a drink and on the way there, you walk past the way to the restroom and it gets you wondering if you should check for your appearance first.

There you go, you overthinking it again. You get a hold of yourself and go with your initial plan to get a drink first. The bartender is busy tending to the other customers so you have time to pick your concoction, rubbing your lips as you think hard over drinks.

After a while, the bartender finally comes to take your order and you haven't settled on a drink yet.

"I'd have uhm... a vodka soda," you settle on a drink.

"You only drink Cosmopolitan on a vacation, huh?" Someone says.

You turn on your feet to see that it's him, Han. He looks the same yet different at the same time, but you can't quite put a finger on what makes him different.

"You came!" He says with a bright smile.

"Like I wouldn't miss the chance to see you embarrass yourself on stage," you jokingly say, welcoming him for a hug.

He puts his arms around you and gives you a tight hug, along with a kiss on your cheek. He then slowly pulls away but keeps his hand resting on the small of your back.

"Your drink is here," he tells you.

"Thank you," you quickly mutter to the bartender.

As you take a sip of your drink, you notice that his hair is longer and somehow, it's making him cuter than he already is.

"Your hair," you point out.

He reaches for it and gives it a quick ruffle, "I permed it. Do you like it?"

It's endearing that he still asks for your opinion, you nod and say, "Yeah. I like it."

Then you have another look at him, paying attention to how he dressed tonight in blue jeans and a black shirt that loosely hangs on his broad shoulders, this ensemble with the permed hair gives him that edge. Also, reminds you of someone.

"Hate to tell you that you'll never be Asher," you joke to him.

"Ouch!" He gasps with his hand clutching his chest.

With his hand that still lingers on your back, he's pulling you to the side to avoid people passing by.

"I'll never be as cool as him," he meekly says.

You place your hand on his forearm and look at him, "And Asher will never be as cute as you," you say with a flirtatious eyebrow raise.

He drops his hand to catch yours in his and holds it, "Glad to know I'm still the cutest."

Cute guys are your weakness and Han with his gummy smile is going to send you to your death. Maybe you were right to overthinking it, maybe it's more than just an invitation to see him perform, maybe there's... something else.

"Two shots, please?" He orders to the bartender.

The bartender comes with the drinks right away, serving two shots on a small tray and slides it across the counter at Han.

"Double shots, huh?" You say as you notice his drinks.

"The other one is for you," he simply says, putting a glass into your hand.

"But I–I already have a drink," you stammer, quickly putting down your other drink on the counter.

"Oh, come on! You're not going to let me have a shot by myself," he grumbles, linking his arm around you by the elbow for a love shot.

You have no other option but to cave in, better get it over with before anyone in the bar notices what the two of you are doing.

"I hope you break a leg," you mutter as a toast.

"Figuratively," he adds with a grin.

Signaling each other through eyes, you both tilt your heads as you take the shots in one go and gasp from the bitter aftertaste almost at the same time.

"I needed that," Han says as he takes a sip of your drink to help wash it down.

Someone from the other side of the bar is calling for him and Han raises his hand to let him know that he heard him. He turns back at you and awkwardly smiles, "I have to go to do uh... soundcheck," he says.

"Yeah, you should go," you coyly say but you're reluctant to let his hand go.

He looks at you with glints in his eyes, reminding you of what the two of you had been and could have been if you stayed together after taking that vacation together.

"Uhm... I hope you endure the whole time I'm on that stage," he playfully says.

"Don't worry. I'll be booing loudly for you," you joke.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

You nod with a smile on your face.

He pulls you close before finally letting go of your hand and turns away, heading toward the stage until he disappears behind the big curtain.

Knowing that the performance is about to start, the crowd moving toward the stage and leaving the stools around the counter unoccupied, you waste no time sitting on one.

"Am I late?" Someone says.

You thought you were hearing a stranger's conversation until you feel a hand on your shoulder and you turn your head to the side to see a familiar face.

"Oh, my God! Avery?" You gasp in surprise.

Avery's smile hasn't changed a bit, it's bright and warm, so welcoming. She doesn't hesitate to throw her arms around you and pulls you into an ecstatic hug.

Once you pull away from the hug, you immediately take a step back to take a good look at her and her appearance doesn't change much except that her hair is now in a shade of lighter blond.

"It's unfair that you're only getting more beautiful and here I am..." you sigh in sheer envy and a fake snide smile.

"No..." she hastily denies with her Australian accent and holds both of your hands in hers, "You look amazing!"

"Even if you're lying, I'd still believe you," you jokingly say.

"I'm being honest!" She assures you.

"Are you meeting someone in here or...?"

"Han didn't tell you I was coming? Oh, that guy," she sighs with an adorable pout.

For what other reason did she come here, unless it was coincidental, then it means Han invited her too. Your heart sank and you blame yourself for having your hopes up, there's nothing else here but a friendly gathering.

"How are you?" Avery asks.

"I'm great," you shortly reply, "What about you?"

You quickly put on a smile and answer all of her questions, asking the same thing back to catch up on things.

"Let's get you a drink, shall we?" you say since you also need a refill then you raise your hand to get the bartender's attention.

"Appletini, please?" She tells the bartender her drink order and then fixes her hair which is flowing down her back in soft waves.

Avery is effortlessly beautiful, the kind of girl who doesn't need to try hard to look that good, and the guy standing next to her who's been staring at her nonstop is proof of it.

"So where is the charming guy?" She asks, turning on her seat facing you.

You reckon what she means as the charming guy is Han and he'd be jumping in joy if he knew Avery called him a charming guy.

"He got called to the backstage. I think it's about to start any minute now," you answer.

Avery finally notices the guy who's been ogling at her and flashes him a smile, just enough to make him go berserk. She giggles in reaction and turns her attention back to you.

"Watches the reunion show and bummed to know that you guys broke up," Avery says.

A moment later, she suddenly grabs your elbow, "Please tell me that you guys played a prank on us and still secretly dating each other!"

You awkwardly chuckle and mindlessly stir your drink with your straw, "Trust me, if we were still dating, I wouldn't let him invite you tonight," you half-jokingly say.

Avery almost chokes on her drink hearing that, she gently wipes her mouth with a napkin and tries not to ruin her glossy lips. She opens her mouth to say something but someone checks the mic on the stage, causing a high-pitched feedback that echoes in the room.

Not long after the MC introduces the list of performers for tonight, Han finally enters the spotlight and slings his guitar strap around him, he says a few things to everyone in the room before starts playing his guitar.

Before this, you've only seen him performing through videos so that makes this the first time you watch him live and it's a whole different experience. You get to hear him sing, hear every strum of his guitar and if you ignore the other people in the room, you're also sharing this moment with him.

Another thing that makes it different is the subtle eye contact he's making at you and there is a chance that he may be looking at someone else, but delusional or not, you get that fluttering feeling.

It's the way he's immersed himself in his singing, the way he stands so nonchalantly yet oozing with charisma, the way he engages with everyone in the room, the way his hand grips the neck of the guitar that reminds you—

Before your mind wanders too far off, you take a big gulp of your drink and you wince at how the alcohol burns the back of your throat.

"Oh, my God! He's so cool," Avery says with her vivacious smile.

You almost forgot her presence and the fact that she's the girl Han initially crushed on, and probably still crushing on. It won't be a surprise if that's also the reason why he invited her.

"Yeah, he's cool," you say back and take another gulp of your drink.

You hate to hate Avery because she doesn't deserve the hate in the first place so you try not to let your negative thoughts get in the way of your friendship, especially over a boy.

In the last song, Han plays one of his songs that you know by heart. You sing along to his singing and notice that Avery is also doing the same, you put your arm around her to sing it out loud together against the loud crowd in the bar.

-

The crowd scatters around as they wait for the next performer while you stay where you are with Avery, waiting for Han with another round of drinks. As you laugh over Avery's joke, he finally appears in your line of sight, sucking on a bottle of water.

Avery turns around on her stool to see him and immediately jumps down to give him a hug, "That was incredible, Han!"

"Thank you!" Han awkwardly says, a little surprised by her hug.

You've been with Han long enough to know what the big grin on his face means and it means he doesn't mind any of that.

"And what do you think?" He asks you.

"That was really great!" You genuinely compliment him with a smile.

He brightly smiles and then brushes his damp hair to the back, exposing the sheen of sweat covering his forehead. You hurriedly take a napkin from the bartender's counter but Avery gets ahead of you.

All of sudden, Avery links her arm with Han then links her other arm with yours which forces you to get off your stool.

"You know what, guys? Drinks on me tonight," she says with a sly smile on her face.

"Are we celebrating something?" You curiously ask.

She looks at you with a pout, "I'm just so happy to see you guys," she simply answers.

You feel bad for asking and feel bad for letting her treat you when you should be the one treating her, you won the prize money after all.

"And I want to get you two drunk," she adds with a devilish laugh.

"That's a great idea! I'm in," Han agrees but he's looking at you as if he seeks your approval.

Eventually, the two team up and begin making puppy eyes at you, making it hard for you to say no to them. You don't like getting drunk, it's the queasy feeling, the headache, the getting home, and the hangover. However, there's always an exception and tonight is one of them.

You lowly sigh because you'll regret it tomorrow, then say, "I say let's get wasted."

-

Avery takes you to a different bar a few blocks away from the previous one and her friend already has a table reserved for all of you. Apparently, this bar is quite popular and that explains why it's so crowded, and you hate being in a crowded place like this.

Thankfully, the table is on the quieter side of the bar. You take your jacket off before sitting on the sofa that faces each other with an elegant-looking glass table in the middle and it seems like Han is about to sit next to you but Avery's friend claimed it first.

"I'm Lucky," he introduces himself to you right away.

"Oh, are you?" You teasingly say with a sly grin.

Lucky laughs and does it attractively with eyes full of crinkles, "Well, I met you so I guess I am," he teases you back.

The whole time, Avery leads the conversation and always tries to get you involved in it. Then it hits you why guys like her, not only she's beautiful, but she knows how to keep people engaged either with eye contact or a slight touch, and she just knows how to keep things fun for everyone, those are things that can't be taught, she was born with it.

"My friend here is cute, isn't she?" Avery asks her guy friend.

Lucky looks at you while you're sipping your drink and the ice cubes hit your lips. You force on a smile as you wipe your cold and wet lips.

"An absolute lush to be honest," he says with a seductive smile.

And you can say the same thing about Lucky, he's tall, with dirty blond hair and tattooed hands, and he also has those stunning light blue eyes. Maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel like teasing him back.

"You're not so bad yourself," you jokingly say.

Avery laughs in amusement, enjoying the exchange between you and him. She refills everyone's glasses with more drinks while talking at the same time.

"The best part is she's single," Avery says.

Your eyes somehow dart to Han and you find his eyes are on you too, for a second, you both stare at each other until Lucky slowly leans in, getting Han out of your sight.

"Are you ready to mingle though?" He asks with a half-smirk that looks good on his angular face.

You prop a hand under your chin and pretend to think for a moment, then slowly turn your head his way to say, "Why don't you find out?"

The next thing you know, you're on the floor dancing with him and you don't even anxious about being in the crowd because you're busy enjoying yourself. However, constantly moving your body in not so much space gets you hot, you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your back as you keep dancing.

"I need to go to the restroom," you whisper right into Lucky's ear as it is the only way he can hear you against the blaring music.

Following the sign, you push through the sea of people and head to the hallway that leads to the restroom. You take a moment to cool down, fixing your hair and tapping the back of your sweaty neck with cold water.

You take another look at yourself in the mirror before going out of the door. On the way back to the floor you catch Avery in the corner with someone, well, it doesn't make sense if anyone is not attracted to her until you identify that someone and it's Han.

They're standing facing each other and leaning in close whenever they talk, Avery laughs a few times while Han is continuously talking into her ear.

Knowing their history, it shouldn't surprise you that Han is probably still crushing on her. Again, Avery is undeniably attractive and you're just... you, so you understand that getting over his crush is not easy.

You shouldn't take this personally because he is not in a relationship with you. However, you've been getting this sinking feeling in your chest every time you see them together and it intensifies when you're watching them talking so close to each other.

Before either of them notices you, you make a turn to your booth and immediately collect your jacket and bag, you finish your glass of drink quickly and wince as it burns your throat.

"Hey, I've been looking for you," Lucky says.

You wipe your wet upper lip from drinking and force on a smile, "You know what, I just realized I have this... uh thing to do tonight," you made up something on the spot.

Lucky lets out an awkward chuckle, "All of a sudden?"

You put your jacket on first before answering, "Yeah, I... I have to go," you stammer.

"Like right now?" He asks with a perplexed expression.

"Yes," you hastily reply, grabbing the strap of your bag as you walk away.

You don't even know why you're in such a hurry that you forget your manner, you abruptly stop walking and turn around.

"It was nice meeting you, Lucky," you say with a smile.

You manage to not bump into Avery or Han on your way out, it's better that way. You plan on sending a text to Avery explaining your disappearance once you get on a taxi home.

You aggressively wave your hand to hail a taxi, wanting to get on one soon before any of them catch you leaving without saying anything.

Not long after, a taxi stops on the side of the road and you waste not another second to get into the backseat. As you're about to close the door, someone rushes in and sits next to you.

You roll your eyes once you realize who it is, "Why are you here?"

Han reclines on his seat and massages the bridge of his nose, "I think I'm drunk," he meekly answers.

First thing first, no drunk person is aware that they're drunk which means he's lying. You scoff as he keeps pretending to be drunk.

"Where to?" The taxi driver asks.

Since he's already inside the taxi, you can't force him to get off or even have the heart to push him out of the door so you decide to let it slide, then tell the driver where to go.

The whole taxi ride, you keep your arms crossed in front of you and look out of the window as the taxi glides through the city streets.

When you arrive, you hand the fare to the driver and get out of the taxi, all the while you're acting like Han isn't there. It doesn't take long for him to follow you out of the taxi and chase after you as you enter your apartment building.

"Why did you leave me?" He asks as he trails behind you.

"Obviously, you're not drunk and you can take care of yourself," you answer, starting to climb the stairs to get to the fourth floor.

"Why are you mad when you were the one leaving without telling me?" He asks again, also climbing the stairs two steps behind you.

"I have other things to do," you simply answer even though the other things you have to do are get home and sleep.

"You're lying," he says with a sigh.

"And you lied about being drunk too," you coyly say back.

That seems to shut him up for good but hearing the silence in reply makes you uneasy, you look over your shoulder to see him standing in the middle of the stairs looking up at you.

"I'm sorry I lied," he sincerely says.

That face... looking at that face makes you the slightest bit melting inside but you remain firm even though you're not sure with the reason why you're mad at him.

"Just go home," you tell him and continue walking up the last flight of stairs to your floor.

You start rummaging through your bag, searching for your keys inside as you walk to the door and are aware that Han is still following you.

"Can we talk?" He meekly asks.

"About what?"

"About everything," he answers.

"Well, I don't think we have the time to talk about everything," you detect the jingling sound of your keys and search for it with your hand without looking.

"About us?" He asks.

You let out a chuckle at that, "There's no 'us' to begin with."

After a minute of searching in the abyss that is your bag, you manage to successfully get it out and unlock the door to your apartment.

"Why are you like this?" He asks, his eyes wistfully looking at you.

To be honest, you have no idea either. You were so excited for tonight yet somehow, your mood significantly changed at the end of the night.

"All I wanted is to talk to you. Actually, that's what I've been trying to do the whole night."

You take your keys back and hold them, turning on your feet to face him, "If you wanted to talk to me, then why you brought someone else?"

This is your first mistake tonight, letting him know that you're upset about him inviting Avery. In your defense, you wouldn't be like this if he told you beforehand that his ultimate crush would be there too.

"So that's what this about? Avery?" He says with a sigh.

Han catches you clam up so there's no way of denying it, you turn the knob and push the door open, he stands in the doorway to keep you from closing it.

"I indeed invited her but it wasn't because I still like her or whatever it is you thought," he tells you.

You give him the chance to explain himself and stare at him, this way you can tell whether he's lying or telling the truth.

"And why is that?"

Han sighs, he then roughly brushes his permed hair, making it messier than before and you hate that he looks this good when you're mad at him.

"She was supposed to help me talk to you about something. But instead, she introduced you to this lucky guy," he says with a spiteful tone.

"Help you with what?" You curiously ask and urge him to answer by intensely glaring at him.

He bites his lower lip and sighs again, "Getting back together with you."

Everything you knew is far different from the reality of it and you almost let out a laugh at this newly acquired information. The whole thing is endearing yet annoying at the same time, you can't decide how to react to it

"Instead of doing that, she sets you up with Lucky," he cutely grumbles with his small mouth almost forming a pout.

"So you're jealous?" You coyly ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" He shortly answers with his mouth curling into a snarl.

He leans the side of his body against the doorway and looks at you, "So are you."

"What?" You defensively ask.

"You're jealous of Avery," he replies with a grin.

"No, I'm not," you deny with your foot slowly taking a step to the back.

"You lied again," he says with a pout.

"I'm not," you deny again while nervously chuckling.

Han boldly takes a step inside and closes the door behind him, he then stands with his back resting against the door just looking at you.

There's no one else in the room except you and him, it'd be less embarrassing to tell the truth. You swallow air and slowly exhale.

"Yeah, okay, I'm jealous," you finally admit.

A smile rises on his face and it grows wider as he comes closer. He only stops with a few inches of space between your bodies, then he leans in to softly whisper, "I know."

In reaction, you turn your head his way only to allow him to easily crash his lips against yours. He puts his arms around you as he deepens the kiss, a kiss that makes you dizzy and almost lose your footing.

You would be lying if you didn't miss his kiss, as a matter of fact, you do, you terribly do.

"Guess Lucky isn't that lucky tonight," he pulls away from the kiss only to say that with a shit-eating grin on his face.

As he's about to kiss you again, you dodge away and lightly chuckle.

"And you think you're lucky?" You teasingly ask, then gently push him away.

He hurriedly pulls you closer and tightens his hold around you, "I am."

You shake your head in disagreement, "I don't think so."

He hastily kisses your open mouth and then presses his mouth close to your ear, "You're about to get lucky too."

Without warning, he lifts you off the ground and steers your body toward the bedroom all the while both of your lips are locked in a rapturous kiss.

-

Han is too impatient. He doesn't even bother to take your dress off first, his hand goes under and pushes the hem up, making the dress hunches around your waist.

You let out a sharp gasp the second his hot mouth makes contact with your sex and out of reflex, your legs are clamping his head in between.

Thankfully, his arms are steadily keeping your legs open as his greedy mouth alternates between licking and sucking on your cunt, and a moment later, combining it with his two fingers pumping in and out of you.

It doesn't take long for him to sync those stimulations together to give you the utmost pleasure. If there's anything different about him from the last time you met him is how he's getting better at giving you head, he gets you squirming and moaning non-stop.

"Oh, my— Oh!" you loudly moan against the silence in the room.

Your hands are constantly crumpling the sheet underneath you with your back arched and your waist lifted off the bed.

Han abruptly stops and lifts his head to look at you, "What is it? I can't hear you with your legs around my head," he innocently asks with his mouth glistening wet with your essence.

"Just keep going," you breathlessly say, pushing his head down between your legs again.

He obeys your words, tirelessly pleasing you with his mouth and taking you closer and closer to your release while you're tugging at his hair harder as the pleasure intensifies in each passing second.

When you finally reach your high, you accidentally shut your legs together with his head caught in between. He slowly parts your legs open but keeps them around him, watching you riding down from your high while softly kissing your inner thighs.

After a while, he comes up and hovers above you. You eagerly pull him down, letting him lay himself on top of you. You can taste yourself on him as you kiss him, on his lips, his tongue, and around his mouth.

While your lips are busy lathering his, your hands are roughly pulling at his t-shirt, helplessly trying to get it off of him. He reluctantly lets go of the kiss to do that for you and you shift your focus on unbuckling his belt next.

It's your turn to be impatient, shoving your hand inside his boxer the second you successfully unzip his fly open. You palm his semi-hard cock and slowly stroking it in your hand.

"Gosh, I miss you so much," he breathlessly says.

You open your mouth to speak only for him to tug your lower lip between his teeth and playfully pull at it, making you forget what you're about to say to him.

As a way to get back to him, you surprise him by turning him over and straddling him, having him under you as you stare down at his face.

He's just as beautiful as the last time you saw him, your index finger touches the tiny mole on his fluffy cheek. His honey skin is still as warm as you remember, soft and searing to the touch. You swipe your thumb across his lips before leaning in to kiss him.

"Mmh... baby?" he hums against your lips with his hands cupping your ass and kneading on it.

"Yeah?" You breathlessly ask with your lips lingering on his.

"Help me take off your dress," he whispers.

You lowly chuckle and sit straddling him, taking the hem of your dress to take it off, pulling it over your head, then tossing it away.

The bewilderment is apparent on his face as he looks at your body with wide, lustful eyes and he slides his hands up the side of your body, eagerly waiting for you to take off your bra next.

"Mmh, yeah, get those tits out for me," he playfully says with a sly grin on his face.

His body is shaking along with yours as you laugh at his words while he enjoys touching you, running his knuckles down your front.

There's no denying that you miss his touch so much and how you crumble under the faintest of his touch on you, moreover, how it makes you want him more.

You land a long kiss on his lips and smile at him when you let go, "I'm going to get us a condom."

"Good idea!" He says along with a quick peck on your lips.

You get off him, rolling to the side of the bed, and pull open the drawer on the bedside table, rummaging through the contents to get a condom.

Han is kicking his jeans off the bed when you crawl back to his side while holding the condom in your hand, you put your leg over his as you get comfortable lying next to him.

He turns his head to be greeted by your gaze and tenderly puts his hand on your neck, he then leans in with his mouth open and slightly curling into a smile.

His hand brushes your hair to the side before resting his hand on your neck and instead of going straight for a kiss, he rubs his lips against yours and you can feel his breath on you, hot and raging with desire.

"Oh..." he lowly moans as you gently suck on his lower lip.

He flashes you a wicked grin before licking your lips then crashes them against yours again, slowly yet deeply. You are intimately making out with him as your hand goes down his front, not stopping until your hand meets his engorging member.

Using your index finger, you gently circle the tip of his cock and at times, alternate it with a few strokes on his full length, making it harder and hotter in your hand.

When you deem that both of you are hot and ready enough for it, you tear open the foil packet, then carefully take the rubber out.

You concentrate on putting it correctly, pinching the tip of the condom then slowly unroll the rubber down his length. He intently watches as you meticulously put it on for him and delightfully sighs once you're done.

"Wonderful work!" He playfully comments, pulling you close to him again, "You are welcomed to put it on me for the rest of my life."

You hold his chin and snidely laugh, "You wish!"

Unamused with your remark, he tightens his hold around you and uses his strength to flip you over to have you under him this time.

He plants his lips on you again and kisses you slower with his hand gently kneading on your breast, fingers circling on your hardening bud.

Your body is responsive to every stimulation he's doing to you, your legs are spreading open and you keep seeking that closeness.

The tension hits high as he settles himself between your legs, placing one hand on your thigh and the other aiming his cock at your entrance. He teases you by rubbing his cock on your clit, making you more drenched than you already are.

When he finally enters you, you let out a long moan at how hard and how good it feels to be slowly filled by him.

"I still have more, baby," he murmurs at you with a caress on your cheek.

Han props both hands on each side of you and looks down at you, he's using his hips to push the remaining length inside you while leisurely watching for your reaction, eyes fluttering shut overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Too good," his lips grazing yours as he speaks, "You always feel too good."

When you open your eyes, you can see one corner of his mouth curls into a cocky smirk and you so badly want to take it off his face so you pull him into a kiss.

He starts thrusting slowly, setting a steady pace as he continuously lathers his lips on yours, making you gasp for air in between kisses and moaning against his lips.

The sex feels different because it's not always about the sex itself but who you're doing it with. With Han, you're less insecure about yourself, you don't have to worry about your body and how it looks to him. With him, you can fully enjoy the intimacy between you and him, and also with yourself.

Noticing that you're getting close to your release, he hastily kisses you and says, "Cum together, yeah?"

Unable to answer verbally, you repeatedly nod at him in response.

He keeps the same pace but does it intensely as he's close to his release as well, your lips lingering against each other but both of your eyes are closed and he's groping around for your hand, holding it tightly as he fastens the pace.

When you finally come to your release, he keeps thrusting to ride out his high and then collapsing on top of you. With his eyes half shut, his hand dearly holds the side of your face and slowly puts his lips on you.

The kiss feels a lot gentler, almost like he's kissing a fragile object and you like that. You return his kiss even though you're still coming down from your high, panting in between kisses.

In the midst of it, you get hit by a realization and you immediately push him away, breaking the kiss. You let your head fall onto the pillow and lowly curse, "Fuck..."

"What's wrong?" He asks, slightly concerned.

You let out another groan and roughly brush your hair to the back, "I was planning to make you wait for, at least, a week for that."

He laughs in satisfaction and makes you put your hands around his shoulders again, "You can't help it because I'm cute," he confidently remarks.

You turn away and sigh, "You're not that cute."

Han places slobbering kisses on your neck and face in protest to that, making you laugh under him.

"This is exactly my plan to get you back," he tells you.

"And it's not working," you jokingly say.

He props his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you, "You have to admit that there's no reason for us to not get back together," he tells you.

It's true, you still have feelings for him and so is he, he wants you back as much as you want him back. You both want to get back together so what's holding you back?

He props his head with his hand and pulls the duvet to cover both of your bodies, "Honestly, I've been wondering why we broke up in the first place," he suddenly admits.

You look at him and see the turn of expression on his face, "We weren't ready," you answer.

"I was ready and I still am," he shortly denies, his eyes are open and wide, full of conviction.

You rest your hand on his neck and play with the hair on the nape of his neck, "It was me. I wasn't ready."

There's another change of expression on his face, his eyes downturn and looking sad, "Why?"

You awkwardly shrug and sigh, "I don't want to get hurt," you sadly admit.

His eyes wistfully look at you and his hand tenderly holds the side of your face, "I'm not going to hurt you, baby."

"I know," you respond.

"I like you too much to do that," he assures you with those eyes that shine for you.

The way he convinces you is endearing, you can't help but smile at his words. You don't even know why you think he's capable of hurting you when he's adorable like this.

"As a matter of fact, I love you," he blurts out.

Your heart aches in so many ways hearing those words from him, you smile and cup his cheek in your hand.

"And that's why I'm scared because I love you too," you say those words back to him with all of your heart and with worries that looming around it.

He softly kisses your lips and leans in so close his nose is poking at your cheek, "But we have each other remember?"

It's unfair how easily he can make you fall in love with him again, as easy as taking a breath but that's just the power he has over you, it's taking over you.

"You're right," you agree with him.

He triumphantly smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips, long and lingering, making your heart ache than before as he holds it in his hand.

"We have each other," he murmurs once he pulls away from the kiss.

And you realize that you have his heart in your hand too so you smile and murmur the words back at him.

"We have each other."

-

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[talesofesther]

golden ballads

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: On a normal day, you had trouble reading Wednesday's emotions; on a night like this, where she was holding your hand and standing so close that her perfume was all you could feel, it was ultimately impossible.

Requested by multiple anons for my Christmas Special event.

A/N: First of all, I just wanted to say thank you so much for 7k followers, ily. Second, this prompt was requested by a lot of people, and I won't be answering each individual ask, so if you requested prompt 18 or 13 with her, this is for you. Lastly, I changed the setting a little bit to fit the story better. <3

Masterlist

"Would you give me this honor?"

Classical music played in the background as you spoke, stretching a hand towards Wednesday. A couple of other students — mostly their parents honestly — had already gathered the courage to dance in the middle of the big ballroom.

It was the school's yearly end-of-the-year party. Attendance wasn't mandatory, but when you asked Wednesday to be your partner for the night, she didn't have it in herself to say no.

There was a huge Christmas tree shining obnoxiously behind you, its ornaments almost covering the green leaves completely, but it did give you a warm yellow glow that was hard to call anything other than enchanting.

"Only because it would be too sad to reject you in front of these many people," Wednesday told you as she grabbed your hand and got up from her seat.

"Sure thing," you smirked, finding utmost adorable the way she refused to give in to her own desires.

The ballroom was gorgeous, an elegant contrast to when it housed the Rave'n party. All chandeliers had their lights on for a change, there were a few Christmas lights attached to the walls, and the tables had white and golden ornaments on them as they framed the round dancefloor, and of course, the main attraction was the ten feet tall Christmas tree on the center.

You led Wednesday to one of the most secluded spots of the ballroom, your heels clicking against the polished floor.

"Step on my feet and I will kick you." She warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it." You turned to face Wednesday with a smirk, raising your joined hands so you could press your palms together, your fingers intertwining with hers in a loving yet timid gesture.

Wednesday didn't hesitate on placing her free hand on your shoulder, silently giving you permission to hold her waist. You did so with a tender touch, your palm sliding along her hip bone until your fingertips traced her spine.

You watched the way her eyes traveled over your face, focusing first on your lips before she met your gaze with a slow blink.

The soft melody playing in the background set an easy rhythm for you to follow, swaying in tandem with Wednesday as her body stayed glued to yours; so close you became aware of every little movement she made. It brought goosebumps to your exposed skin.

After a few notes, you dared to take her hand and let go of her waist to twirl her around and then right back into your arms. The bold move pulled the tiniest smile from Wednesday, the blinking lights turning her pale skin a soft golden and highlighting the freckles of her cheeks.

Wednesday's black dress hugged her body beautifully, flowing with each of her steps and complimenting the few wisps of hair that got loose from her braids. Her lips had a burgundy paint to them; it got you wondering how many times you'd have to kiss her for it to wear off.

There was a strategically placed mistletoe near the back doors, undoubtedly the act of some students trying to get lucky. And when the music ended, you and Wednesday just so happened to be standing almost directly underneath it.

The last notes of your song faded just as another began in its place, people were chatting and drinking champagne around you, a few students laughing loudly near the Christmas tree only to receive a glare from Principal Weems. In some ways, it felt like you and Wednesday were detached from the real world and belonged only in this little moment.

She didn't say anything as she removed her hand from your shoulder, her black nails grazing the skin of your arm as she did so. You followed suit by dropping the hand you had on her waist.

But when Wednesday made no effort to let go of your intertwined hands, a tiny grin crept into your lips.

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at you, indirectly asking what was so amusing.

"We're uh," you started, glancing up at the small thing, "we're right under a mistletoe, it means-"

"I know what it means." Wednesday cut you off, her chin angled a tad up as she pursed her dark lips.

"If you care about tradition, yeah," you chuckled nervously. On a normal day, you had trouble reading Wednesday's emotions; on a night like this, where she was holding your hand and standing so close that her perfume was all you could feel, it was ultimately impossible.

Though there was a softness to the way she held herself that was quite hard to miss. "Ones that are meaningless and childish shouldn't even be called traditions." She stated before taking a breath.

The tip of her shoes bumped yours and only then you noticed that she took a step closer to you.

"Right," you mumbled, trapped in the spell that was her.

"Maybe just opportunities," Wednesday finished before she leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle peck.

She kissed you like the first flakes of snow do when they fall from the sky, gentle and tender yet steady with their intent; falling, falling, and falling until they melt.

Your lower lip was trapped between Wednesday's ones, your hands just about managing to close around the fabric of her dress before she was pulling back. Her nose bumped yours and you wanted to trap this moment in time like the snap of a picture.

Wednesday didn't go far, she was still breathing the same air as you when she pressed her lips together in a feeble attempt to correct her lipstick. She then raised a thumb to the corner of your lips, brushing away the smudged color there.

Oh, she had you wrapped around her cold fingers and she knew it. But it was in the way that her nails traced the skin of your jaw as she prolonged her touch on you as much as possible, that you knew she'd take good care of your heart.

"Now come," Wednesday tugged on your hand, "we still have a few more songs to make this night count."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @gayestfeels26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @witchyhs-blog @tobylikesfire @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest

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[themorningsunshine]

Pretense

(Requested)

Masterlist

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader , platonic Avengers x reader

Summary - You have been with orverprotective parents your whole life, and it never bothered you as much. You know they mean well. Until they spew lies in front of your friends and ruin everything for you, including your chance at love.

Warnings - shitty parents, angst, fluff, misunderstandings, a lot of crying, slight language. not proofread 

Word count - 7k (I need to be stopped) 

a/n - This was requested by the lovely @caritobbg​​. I thought it would be a short one shot but it instead turned out to be the longest fic I have ever written. I tried to do the idea justice, hope you lile it, girl. 

"Yeah, dad. I am at the tower."

"What do you mean why? I live AND work here."

"Yeah, I am taking care of myself, mom." "No, they don't fight each other all the time."

"No, Tony hasn't filled the tower with deadly robots." "No, Steve doesn't conduct history lessons here."

You sighed as your parents asked you for the 10th time this week if you were being kept hostage at the Avengers compound.

Your dad spoke from the other side of the phone. "You know we worry about you, princess. We just don't trust those superheroes."

You smiled a little at the nickname your dad had always called you since you were a little girl. "Yeah, dad, I understand that you worry about me but they are my friends and I trust them. I really wish you could trust them too."

Your parents had always been a little too protective of you. Being an only child, you were the object of their affection more often than not. It had never bothered you as much. You know they meant well.

But it had gotten much worse now. About a year ago, Tony Stark himself offered you a job to work with the avengers considering your skills and obviously, you said yes. It was an opportunity of a lifetime and you had found a family in the team too.

You hadn't told your parents about your new job for 6 months because you were afraid of their reaction. As you had anticipated, they didn't take their little girl working for superheroes very well.

Okay, that was an understatement. Your parents didn't trust the Avengers and they surely didn't trust them enough to be able to protect you. They took any chance they got to convince you to leave the job. All you wanted was for both of your families to get along. Maybe it was too much to ask for.

"Dad, we are friends. We look out for each other. We have each others' backs. Give them a chance, please. Why can't you try to trust them?"

"Hmm. Let me see. Your 'friends' consist of ex-assassins, a witch who used to work for Hydra, a "genius" and his scientist friend who created a robot that wanted to kill the whole of humanity. Oh, and the scientist also has huge anger issues. Like he literally turns into a monster when he is angry. Your best friend has killed more people than she can count. And this group of yours almost broke up once when the best friend of one killed the parents of another. Oh, and that soldier of yours has also reportedly killed a president. You are right. What's there to not trust?"

"Dad, he was brainwashed!!"

"Doesn't make him any less unstable."

You sighed. These arguments with your parents were a dead end. You knew you weren't going to get anywhere.

"Alright, mom, dad. I gotta go."

"Okay, sweetheart. Just take care of yourself. At least until we come to meet you next month."

You smiled at that. "Can't wait. I want to introduce you to everybody. Love you, guys. See you soon, Bye"

"We love you too, princess."

Your smile dropped as you hung up the phone and realization struck you. Your parents were going to visit and as much as you wanted them to meet everybody, you were scared. You could never be sure about how your parents would react. They were too unpredictable.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear footsteps approaching.

"You okay, doll?"

The voice startled you as you turned back to be met by the beautiful blue of Bucky's eyes. You kept a hand on your chest to calm your breathing. "God, you scared me, Buck."

Bucky just chuckled as he looked at you, eyes filled with concern. "Well, maybe you should be careful who sneaks up on you, doll. This is not really the safest place on Earth."

"The only person who sneaks up on me is you, Bucky." You replied with a smile of your own, as you felt your concerns slipping away.

"Exactly my point. I am not really the most trustworthy person either."

"Then why do I trust you with my life?" The words slipped before you could think about how they would sound. Your cheeks turn little red as you look down at your feet. "You are too good for your own good," Bucky replied with a slight blush of his own and he meant it with everything he had. You were too pure and too trusting for this world. He would never know how he got to even call you his friend.

His eyes squinted as he noticed something. "Doll, there's something in your hair."

Before you could react, he took a step towards you and with gentle hands removed a piece of confetti out of your hair.

You ran your hands through your hair before looking up to thank him when you realized how close the both of you were standing. You were pretty sure he could hear how fast your heart was beating.

The both of you stood there staring into each other's eyes until Bucky took a step back, red color creeping up to his cheeks. He rubbed his neck, flustered, before finally speaking, "Um, I should - I should go."

You nodded your head, trying desperately to get your heart to beat normally. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you around."

As Bucky walked away, you couldn't wipe off the smile from your face when suddenly your conversation with your parents hit you again.

God, it was going to be a long month.

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"And if you need anything, you can also ask Jarvis." You explained to your parents with the widest grin on your face.

"God, I can't believe you guys are finally here."

Your parents smiled at you before your mom engulfed you in a hug, 7th in the past 1 hour.

"Okay, guys. You know I love you both so much, but we are going to go in now and meet everybody. Can you please, please be nice?"

Your mom put her hand on her chest with a dramatic expression, "You don't trust us?"

You chuckled at how dramatic your mother could sometimes be. "I do, You know I do. But I also know as a matter of fact that both of you aren't very fond of my friends. And all I am asking is that you give them a chance. They are great people, mom. They are really really great and I care a lot about all of them. So, I just need you to be a little open-minded about them. That's all I am asking. Can you do that for me?" "Of course, we will, princess. We hate these inept superheroes but not as much as we love you."

Your parents then looked at each other a too long, which you didn't think much of, too excited at the prospect of your parents and friends getting along.

You took them inside the compound as they looked around in what you hoped was awe.

"Good morning, J.A.R.V.I.S" You greeted the AI just like you did every day.

"Good morning, Ms l/n"

Your parents looked around in shock trying to figure out where that voice came from when you chuckled. "Mom, dad, I told you, you need anything, just ask J.A.R.V.I.S"

Your dad narrowed his eyes at you. "Where is this JARVIS of yours?"

You giggled before replying, "Everywhere and nowhere." Troubling your parents never got old.

"Stop putting forward riddles, we are not in a fantasy adventure movie." Your mom complained.

"Sorry. Sorry Mom, dad, meet J.A.R.V.I.S. He is an AI that operates the whole tower, literally. If you want to know anything, just ask him. Tony created him. That man is such a genius."

Your dad almost rolled his eyes. "Why couldn't he just hire a human to work for him, just like normal people do?"

You sighed, just hoping that the day goes smoothly.

You couldn't be more wrong.

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"And this room is the briefing room." You opened the door to let your parents in but they just looked around from the doorway.

You had just started showing your parents around the compound, readying yourself for the inevitable. The whole team was pretty excited about meeting your parents and you knew sooner than later that someone will run into you.

The inevitable happened as soon as you stepped into the dining room.

Tony was standing there, getting his morning cup of coffee and his face told you he hadn't slept very well last night. Ever since he picked up the mission to update the compound's security system last month, he had hardly been sleeping. You were worried about him.

"Tony?" You said in a soft voice so as to not startle him.

"Oh, hey, kiddo. Awake a little too early today?" He said with a tired smile on his face, taking a jab at the fact that you were definitely not a morning person.

"Are you okay, Tony?"

"Hmm, yeah. Totally." He then looked at your parents who were standing beside you with a scowl on their faces. "Won't you introduce us?"

"Oh, right." A wide grin spread on your face as you turned towards your parents. "Mom, dad. This is Tony. Kind of the co-leader of the group. Tony, these are my parents."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr and Mrs l/n. You have a great daughter."

Your cheeks turned red until your parents began speaking.

"So, he is the guy who has his head so up his arse that he doesn't care about anyone besides himself?" Your dad with a scowl on his face.

You gasped as Tony's eyes widened. "Dad, what are you talking about?"

"He is Stark, right? That's what you said about him after the first day you worked here."

Your eyes widened as your mouth fell open. What was happening? You hadn't even told your parents about your job for the first 6 months. Why were they -

Your eyes frantically searched for Tony's and you felt a slight pain in your chest when you saw how hard he was trying to feign the hurt in his eyes. You needed to set this right. "Tony - "

"Oh, and could you please stop annoying our daughter with all the science and tech talk? That stuff bores the shit out of her." Your mother interrupted you before you could even say anything.

You looked at Tony, desperately trying to explain to him that it wasn't true. You had told your parents how much you loved listening to Tony rambling about his latest creation. You loved how passionate he was about his work. You couldn't imagine your parents using that against you like this.

Before you could say something, Tony spoke, "Oh, I am sorry, I didn't know me talking about what essentially pays your salary irritated you so much." He said with a snarl in his voice that he had never used with you before. Even though the both of you weren't that apart in age, he was like a dad to you and you would never hurt him.

"Tony, it's not what you think." You said, desperately asking him to give you a chance to explain yourself when some more people walked through the door.

You watched as Nat and Wanda entered the kitchen, engrossed in their talk, smiling when they see you.

"Heya, girl"

You internally panic. You didn't know what your parents were up to but this couldn't be nice. You just wanted to take them away from here.

Tony speaks up before you can do anything, "Her parents are here. And they have something very interesting to say. Turns out our goody two shoes has some very different thoughts about us."

"Tony, no. It's not like that. I don't know why - "

"Hey, let me guess who are these two." Your mother exclaimed, conveniently shutting you up.

Wanda looked between you and Tony in confusion before smiling at your parents. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Y/n talks a lot about you."

Your mom looked her up and down before saying with disdain in her voice, "Redhead. A pretty face. You must be the witch."

Wanda's smile wavered but she didn't let her discomfort show.

"You're the one who is so desperate for love that she is dating a toaster."

Wanda gasped as her smile fell. She looked at you, confused and hurt.

"Mom, what are you - "

"That's what you told us, princess. That she is dating a toaster. What's its name again? Vi - Vis.." "Vision. His name is Vision and he is NOT a toaster." Wanda then looked dead into your eyes. "But it's good to know that that's what you think, y/n."

You shook your head frantically. "No, no, Wan. It's not like that. You know that's not true. I would never say that."

Wanda's eyes didn't waver and dread filled you. Your friends were not trusting you.

"What does she say about me?" Nat spoke up. She asked as if she couldn't care less but being her best friend for almost a year now, you could read it in her eyes that she was almost as afraid of the answer as you were.

"You're the black widow, right?" Your father questioned.

Your mother spoke up without waiting for a reply, "You are the useless one. No, like, really, the three of us always wonder, why are you even a part of the group? There are supersoldiers in here, witches and literal gods, what do you do? Throw some punches? Kicks?"

"Gods. That reminds me, where are the self-proclaimed gods/aliens of yours?" Your dad snickered, amused.

"Which one?" Your mom questioned in reply. "The doofus or the monster which can never be trusted?"

You had had enough. You exclaimed, "Okay, guys. Enough. Stop talking."

Your dad smirked. The audacity. "Come on, princess. Aren't you tired of pretending? Don't you want your friends to know what you actually think about them?"

You opened your mouth to tell them that whatever they were saying was as far from the truth as it could get when everybody in the kitchen heard footsteps approaching.

You heard Steve before you saw him, "Who thinks about what?" He asked, genuinely curious.

Your heart started beating frantically when you realized he wasn't alone. Sam and Bucky had entered the kitchen with him. But unlike the other times, your heart was beating with fear. This couldn't be happening. No, no.

"Y/n's parents are here. They were telling us all the great stuff she says about us to them." Wanda said with pure disgust in her voice. You had never seen her this mad.

"Guys, trust me. It's not - " "Come on, y/n. Let them speak." Sam said before turning towards your parents. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr and Mrs l/n."

Your father rolled his eyes before saying, "You're the one who got kicked out of the Air Force and then kissed Captain America's arse for a job."

Sam's jaw dropped but before he could say anything your mom replied, "No, honey. Y/n told us it was that Ant-man."

Your dad shook his head. "No, no. Antman is the one who went to jail. He is Falcon."

You were seeing red now. You knew that your parents were a little too overprotective of you and hence didn't like you taking this job. But you thought meeting your friends and realizing how caring and nice everybody was would change their minds. You never thought that they would ever do this to you.

You desperately wanted to explain yourself. To tell your friends that this was all a lie but you couldn't. You could see it in their eyes that they already hated you. And with your parents standing right there, you knew it would be impossible to give them. Maybe you could talk to them after your parents left. You just hoped they would give you a chance to explain yourself.

When your dad's eyes landed on Bucky, panic swelled inside you. Nononono.

"Oh, and you must be the winter soldier. That metal arm makes it pretty obvious though." Your dad said as he pointed towards Bucky's left side with pure disgust in his eyes as if it was the most horrifying thing he had ever seen.

Tears welled in your eyes as you saw how Bucky pulled his sleeves to cover more of his arm and blocked it from view.

"Do you have any idea how difficult you make it for people to work in this compound? Y/n complains to us how she has to walk on eggshells around you, scared that anytime you would get back to being the assassin that you have always been." Your mother uttered the words with a permanent frown on her face.

"But can you blame her though? You can not just kill hundreds of people and live freely, pretending to be a hero."

"Enough." You shouted. You couldn't take it anymore and your parents had gone too far.

You looked at Bucky, about to explain to him that none of it was true. That you were never scared of him. Not even for a second. Because you loved him. Since the day you had met him, your heart had held nothing but love for him.

But the look that you saw in his eyes made you stop in your tracks. He wasn't looking at you with hate or anger. No, it was much worse. He looked hurt. As if someone had pulled his heart out of his chest and stomped on it. You couldn't help but notice that his eyes held a little bit of understanding too as if he didn't blame you for thinking that way.

Your chest hurt and you wanted nothing more than to reach out to him.

"Wow. That - that was." Steve broke the silence, but it was the first time you had seen him out of words. "Is that really what you think about us, y/n?"

"No, no, Steve, None of it is true."

"Come on, princess. You don't have to put up a facade anymore. No more pretense."

"Stop it." You shouted at your parents. This was the first time you had ever raised your voice at them, but you couldn't care less. They were ruining everything.

"Guys, you need to trust me. Please." You looked at everybody, begging them with your eyes and words to just trust you.

"I don't understand. Why did you pretend to be our friend for so long? Why pretend to care when that's what you really think?" Wanda spoke, bewildered.

"No, no. That's not - " You spoke, tears at the brim of your eyes. This couldn't be happening.

"For the money, of course. Come on, why would someone live in the most dangerous place on earth if not for a buttload of money?" Your dad said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No, no, no, please. You guys have to trust me, please." You looked around at everybody, frantically searching for even a hint that everything was not ever. That they could trust you. But all you got was hurt faces and built-up walls.

"Why are you doing this to me?" You shout at your parents. You were extremely close to sliding on the floor and crying your heart out.

"We are trying to help you, princess. We are freeing you." Your mom said with a smug expression.

"You don't have to do that anymore," Tony spoke and all the eyes in the room looked at him. Hope swelled in your chest.

"You don't have to stay here and pretend to like us. I really really want to fire you but you know too much and your statistical skills are too good to be wasted. So, you will be transferred. Somewhere far from us where we don't ever have to see your face." Tony spoke with a sense of finality in his voice and your heart broke into a hundred pieces.

You looked at your feet and swallowed the lump in your throat before looking at him and whispering, "You don't have to do that." You then turned and looked into the blues of Bucky's eyes which you were so familiar with and all you could do was whisper, "I am sorry."

You didn't wait for anybody's response before walking out and towards your room.

There was nothing that you could do anymore.

You were not going to take that transfer.

This job was never about money to you. You had found a family here, and you loved them with everything you had. But it still wasn't enough for them to trust you.

You cried and cried and cried till you had no more tears to let go before getting up and packing your bag.

You had to leave. You couldn't face them again.

There was only one thing left to do.

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The compound was silent.

It was as if nobody even lived here anymore.

Everybody sat at the dining table staring at the food in front of them, nobody taking a bite.

It was as if a part of them was missing. As if the one thread that had bound them together was somehow suddenly torn apart.

There was an unspoken agreement between them. Nobody would talk about what had happened earlier that day. The wound was too fresh to be confronted.

Nobody knew where you were right now. But everybody just assumed that you were in your room.

Steve was very close to barging into your room and bringing you to the dining table. He couldn't count the number of times he had told you that you shouldn't talk while eating and even after choking on your food twice, you hadn't listened to him and Steve was glad. There was nothing he wouldn't give right now to bring back the lively chatter that had always surrounded the dining table. But he had to remind himself that everything he had thought was a lie, a pretense.

Tony was angry. He was seething. He had cared for you like you were his own daughter and you had thrown all of that into a drain.

Wanda just wanted to know how you were so good at acting. How you could pretend to be her best friend when you hated her all along?

But Bucky just wanted to know one thing - why. He didn't blame you for thinking that way about him. You weren't the only one who did. But he wanted to know why you would pretend to be his friend, to care about him when you thought him to be a monster. Why did you comfort him after all those panic attacks and nightmares telling him it wasn't his fault when you blamed him for every single thing? Why had you let him fall in love with you if you couldn't even stand him? You had to know that it would leave him devastated. He didn't blame you for hating him, but how was he supposed to live without your light now? Especially when he knew it was never for him?

Nat couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't just let everyone swallow themselves in silence for a person who never even cared about them in the first place. She harshly got up before walking towards the living room for a bottle of wine.

She shook her head when the memories of all of you hanging out at the same place plagued her mind.

As she walked past the bookshelf, she noticed something which had never been there before.

She frowned as she walked towards it to realize that it was a pen drive. She slowly picked it up to find a note attached to it which just read, "Sorry".

She was so engrossed that she didn't hear footsteps approaching until a hand took the pen drive from her. She looked up to realize Tony was looking at the drive intently as if scanning it with his eyes.

"What's this?" He asked, confused.

"No idea. Found it on the bookshelf."

Tony read the note and recognized the handwriting almost instantly. "It's y/n's."

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*

Everybody sat in the living room staring intently at the screen before them.

Tony had assembled everybody and they had all agreed to watch the pen drive once. Maybe it would answer their questions. Maybe it was just an old pen drive and had to do nothing with what had happened today but they had to know.

The system finally finished scanning the drive after what felt like a lifetime and your face flashed on the screen.

Your tears-stained cheeks and red, swollen eyes, told them that the video was indeed today's.

"Hey, guys." You sounded broken and defeated.

"I am not even sure that you are going to watch this." You let out a sad chuckle.

"But I just needed to say this 'cause it feels like if I don't, it will swallow me whole. And you guys deserve to know the truth, too."

"I just - I want you all to know that all that you heard today, none of it was true. Not even a single word of it. And I need you guys to know this." You looked directly into the camera as if begging them to trust you and nobody dared to move.

"I - I don't know why my parents did what they did. I have no idea. I can tell myself that they were trying to protect me, but who am I trying to convince? 'Cause, you don't protect someone by taking away the best thing that ever happened to them." You sniffled, rubbing your palms on your face to wipe off the tears.

"And that is what this team was for me. This job, this team, was the best thing that ever happened to me. And it was never because of the money or the luxuries of living in the tower, it was you guys. You were a family I found in a city I knew nothing about. And that was what mattered to me."

Tony wanted to shut the video off, to tell everybody that maybe you were lying here too, pretending, but he knew it wasn't true. Your eyes shone with guilt and desperation and eyes never lie.

The video continued. "And maybe you are not even watching this video. Maybe you will never know how I actually felt and will hate me forever, but if there is even a slight chance that you are watching this, and there is a small part of you that can trust me, I want you to know what I actually think about you.

Tony, you were like a dad to me. You always looked out for me and were so damn concerned about me the whole time and I can't thank you enough. Thank you for always looking out for me and I never for a second got annoyed by you talking about tech, you might not know this but your eyes shine brighter when you are talking about your creations and I would never get tired of that. The only complaint I had for you is that you need to take care of yourself more. Stop sleeping in your lab and eating shawarma all the time in the name of food, it's not healthy. Take care of yourself, Tony, 'cause there are some people who will always need you."

Tony looked away, blinking hard so as to not let the tears roll down his cheeks. All the times when you brought him food in his lab because he hadn't left his spot for hours and then you forced him to finish it all, you didn't do it as a pretense, you did it because you genuinely cared about him.

"Nat, you're the bravest and the most badass person I know. Don't tell anyone, but you are my favorite fighter. I admire you so damn much. Who cares that you can't lift things with your mind or fly? You can kick people's asses without blinking an eye. You inspire me so much."

"Wanda, you and Nat are my best friends and I am so proud of you. After everything you've lost, gathering the courage to love again is the most courageous thing I've ever seen. You and Vis make me believe in love. Hell, I even had a speech ready for your wedding as your bridesmaid." You had a small smile on your face as if remembering something, "Now that I am not going to be there anymore, Nat, I am going to ask you to give a great speech from my side too. I know you are not a very emotion-oriented person, but please try. 'Cause Wanda deserves nothing but the best."

Wanda sniffed audibly and Nat kept a hand on her shoulder.

"Thor, prince of Asgard, Son of Odin." You said in the voice that Thor had taught you to intimate a long time ago and chuckled. "I know you are the one who stole all my pop tarts." As Thor's eyes widened, the video continued, "Don't act surprised. Why do you think I never changed the place of keeping my pop tarts even after they went missing every single week? I am not upset, nope. I don't even like those that much. I just need you to know that I won't be there to keep those tarts there. Ask J.A.R.V.I.S., he knows where I brought them from. He will tell you."

"Sam." Sam looked up from his spot as he heard his name. "I am a little upset with you. You never let me use red wig." You pouted and Sam chuckled. "But you do know that you are the funniest, smartest, and one of the most deserving people to be on the team, right? Hell, bringing you to the team was the best decision Steve ever made."

You stopped for a moment looking down at your feet, when you breathed, "Bucky." Your voice was much softer now as if his name was a prayer.

Bucky looked up into the camera, his heart beating a mile per minute. If this was all a lie too, he didn't want to know what you had to say. Even if it was actually how you felt, he wasn't sure he was ready for what you were going to say.

"I - " You stopped and took a deep breath. You looked vulnerable as if you were apart to lay your soul bare in front of you. "Bucky, I just - Whatever you heard today, it is not true. None of it. Since the day I met you, I have never been scared of you. Not for a single second. You know I don't blame you for anything that Hydra did, you have to know. I don't think you were a monster. I think you are the sweetest, kindest and bravest person I know. I wasn't lying when I told you that I trusted you with my life. I trust you, I care about you, and I - "

Bucky's breath hitched in his throat as you suddenly stopped.

"Well, there is a major chance that you're not even watching this, so .. why not? It's not like I am ever going to get a chance to say it to you. So, here it is -

I love you, Bucky. I am in love with you. I have been for a very long time now. I could tell myself that it was just a small crush and it would go away sooner or later, but who am I kidding? I want to spend every single moment of my day with you. You're the first thought that comes to my mind when I wake up and my last memory before I fall asleep. When you are around, I can't stop looking at you and when you are not, all I want to do is look at you. I know that you might never feel this way about me, especially after today, but I just had to say it once."

You took a deep breath before speaking with finality in your voice, "I just hope that one day you guys will know that it wasn't a pretense. That this team was everything to me. I found a family, a place to call home, I found love. I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me."

The video stopped and everybody bowed their heads down while Bucky just stared at the screen desperately, as if you would walk out of it.

You loved him.

You wanted to be with him and god if that thought alone wasn't the best thing that had ever happened to him. He didn't think you could love him. He had accepted the fact that he was destined to love you from afar, a love that you would never know about.

But you felt the same. He didn't have to watch you fall in love with someone else and get your happily ever after, because you wanted that to be him.

You could be his happily ever after.

Before he could let himself be hopeful, realization struck him and left him breathless.

You had said that you would never get the chance to say it to him personally. The things that you had said, the finality in your voice, it had all sounded like a ... goodbye.

He stood up abruptly, only to realize that all the eyes were on him.

Some were filled with tears, others were trying really hard to keep their emotions in check. No, no, this couldn't be. How was he supposed to live without you now that he knew that you loved him too?

Without muttering a word to anybody, he rushed out of the room, through the corridor, and towards your room. You couldn't have gone yet. No, no, he would beg you to stay, get on his knees and ask you to forgive him.

He stood outside your door for a moment, taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself.

He brought his hand to knock on your door, only to realize that it wasn't locked.

With bated breath, he pushed the door open.

It was vacant. Everything that you had put in to make it a home, was gone.

You were gone.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*

The whole team stood in the living room, waiting.

Bucky walked in, his head shaking and arms trembling.

Nobody uttered a word as they waited for him to give words to the inevitable. He looked up, tears brimming his eyes as he whispered, "She is gone."

Everybody gasped as guilt filled them.

Only if they had trusted you.

"No, no. We cannot give up. We need to find her. I am going to find her. We cannot give up this easily." Bucky said, praying that he was right, that not everything was lost. There was still hope. There had to be.

"He is right. We can't just let her go." Wanda said, tears straining her cheeks. "There has to be a way." Sam agreed.

Tony suddenly lightened up as he took out his tablet. "We can track her. If she hasn't switched off her phone, we can find her exact location." He had enabled a tracking sensor in everyone's phone some time ago. He remembered the way you had pouted and teased him that it was an invasion of privacy, but had finally let him install it nonetheless.

He let out a sigh of relief when he realized he could still check the location of his phone. "She is heading towards the airport."

Dread filled everybody as Tony's words sank in. You were leaving. Forever.

"She is in a cab right now. I can figure out its number, but it might be too late."

"I have to go," Bucky exclaimed. "I am not going to let her go. No. I need to find her." He looked around, ready to fight anyone who came in his way.

But everybody just gave him a reassuring look as Steve whispered, "Go, get the girl, Buck."

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*

You looked through the window as the city lights bristled by.

Your cheeks were still stained with tears as you left behind the place you had called home.

But there was no other option. Your parents had left you with no other choice.

It hurt that they had actually been successful in their mind games, but there was nothing you could do. Your parents had taken from you, the best part of your life.

You were going to miss the city, the team, and your friends, but there was one person you were going to miss the most.

Leaving him was like leaving a part of your behind and you knew that Bucky Barnes was always going to have a piece of your heart, even if he didn't know about it.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as the cab came to an abrupt, sudden stop.

The cab driver looked back at you before asking, "Ma'am, are you okay."

You nodded your head before asking, "Are you?" After he nodded, you continued, "What happened?" "A man just rushed his bike past us, way beyond the speeding limit, and then stopped it right before us, in the middle of the bridge."

You frowned as you looked in front of the cab.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you recognized the bike and the man getting down from it.

"Bucky." You breathed before opening the cab door, against the driver's protests, your legs on autopilot.

When your eyes met Bucky's, you could see him visibly relaxing with relief.

"Bucky, what are you - " You exclaimed against the sound of the wind.

He got down from his bike and started walking towards you quickly. "Doll, how could you?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname before you lowered your head. Of course, he hated you after what had happened. He didn't trust you.

You looked up to realize that he was a couple of feet distance from you now. You opened your mouth, apologies about to come tumbling from your lips when you were cut off by him.

You gasped in shock as Bucky closed the little distance between the both of you, pressing his lips to yours, in a gentle, yet desperate kiss, as if he was drowning and only the feeling of your lips could bring him back to the shore.

When the surprise finally washed off, you brought your hands to his chest as his led down to your waist, and you kissed him back. You didn't understand what was happening. But if it was goodbye, you wanted it to last forever.

When the necessity to breathe arose, Bucky pulled back but stood close.

He leaned in and touched your forehead with his before closing his eyes.

You breathed him in. He smelled of fresh coffee and pine. He smelled like home.

"How could you leave me, doll? Without even saying anything. Not even a goodbye?" He tried to be upset with you. But who was he kidding? You could stab him through his chest and he would still thank you.  

Tears brimmed your eyes as you took in a deep breath, you wanted to savor this moment. "Buck, I - I am sorry. Whatever my parents said today, it was a lie. A huge lie. I wanted to tell you, but - "

"It's okay, doll. I trust you. But, I - I need to ask you something." He took a deep breath, already dreading your answer to the question he was about to ask. "Did you mean it?"

"Of course, I didn't. None of it. I don't blame you for anything, Bucky. I am not scared of you. I have never been."

"That's not." Bucky closed his eyes shut, praying that he could word his feelings correctly. "We - we saw the video."

Your eyes widened as realization struck you. He knew.

You had stupidly confessed all your feelings on a video. What were you thinking? He would be so embarrassed right now but you couldn't back out now.

"Buck, I - I do love you. That is the truth. But you don't have to say anything. I understand if you don't - "

Before you could finish your sentence, Bucky brought his fingers under your chin to make you look up at him before leaning in to press his lips against yours once again.

Hope swelled in your chest as you brought your arms to encircle his neck and kissed him back.

He pulled away a little too quickly to look up at you with a small smile on his face. The look in his eyes made butterflies erupt in your tummy with a ferocity you had never felt before.

"I love you too, doll. I do. With everything that I have. I love you and I am so so sorry that I didn't give you a chance to explain. I am so sorry that I didn't trust you.

I never told you this because I - I am not good enough for you, doll. I don't deserve you."

You shook your head, about to correct him, when he continued, "And I think I still don't. Being with you puts you in so much danger too, maybe I shouldn't even be with you. But I am tired of pretending that I don't want to. I am tired of pretending like I don't want to spend every single moment for the rest of my life with you. So, if you'll allow me, doll, I'll spend the rest of my life, trying to be the man you can proudly call yours 'cause I love you so damn much."

Tears were now flowing down your cheeks for a completely different reason. You leaned in to kiss him again when the both of you were interrupted by the cab driver shouting from the cab, growing impatient, "Madam, do you want to go or not?"

Bucky looked at you with hopeful eyes and you turned back to yell to the driver, "Never"

#marvel #oneshot #fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barns x you #bucky barns x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter solider x y/n #winter soldier x you #steve rogers #sam wilson #tony stark #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #thor odinson

[c-nstantine]

Hi! I don’t know if your taking request or not but if you are

I got a request for nanami x black reader

So, nanami is at work and y/n comes by while he’s on break and they fuck in his office and when they leave his office, they get caught by somebody watching them leaving his office trying to adjust themselves.

P.S. reader can be a sorcerer working there or is a civilian. The somebody could be as teacher or student

Also wanted to say I love your work especially the bi-Han and black reader💕

this was fun to write!!!

word count: .7k

warnings: unprotected sex, gojo being gojo

This was supposed to be a cute couple's date. All Y/N wanted to do was bring her long-term boyfriend lunch while he was on break. She just happened to wear his favorite sundress and his favorite lingerie under it. It's not like she planned to be hoisted on his desk with him standing between her brown thighs.

"Kento, we can't," She said while she fumbled with his tie. She made quick work of his buttons. Her lips may have said no but her body craved him. He had been working overtime and the two hadn't found time to take care of each other properly.

"We can. You just need to be quiet," He kissed her passionately as he pulled her dress up. He groaned at the sight of his favorite lace panties. He took a second to gather himself before ripping them off of her.

Once again his mouth was on hers but his narrow fingers slipped between her folds. He stroked her clit carefully, coating himself in her wetness before using his fingers to enter her. At first, he was just trying to stretch her out before his cock, he got carried away. Using his fingers in a hooking motion, Kento watched for her reactions.

"It's hard when you do that," She whispered, trying to swallow a moan. Kento simply smirked and listened to the sounds of her pussy gushing around her fingers. He removed his tie and stuffed it into her mouth to keep her from making too much noise.

"You're always so responsive," He murmured before unzipping his pants and dropping them to his knees. His cock sprang free and slapped against his thigh. Pre-cum practically drooled from his pink mushroom tip.

He lined himself with her opening and almost shuddered at her warmth. Inch by inch, he pushed himself further into her. Y/N's legs spread as far as they could go. Her head rested on his shoulder as his hips snapped into her. While the tie kept her moans from getting too loud, nothing could be done for the sound of his dick pumping in and out of her.

Y/N almost felt bad for Nanami's desk. Papers were sent flying, various pens dropped to the floor and his poor stapler had broken. Kento's hands settled at her waist to help steady her as he rocked into her. He groaned every time her pussy clenched as she was brought closer and closer to her peak. Since he was a gentleman, he'd wait for her to cum first. It was hard for him to ignore the burning in his belly as he saw the pleasure on her face and heard her muffled whines.

"It's okay. Go ahead and finish for me," Kento whispered in her ear, giving her all the encouragement she needed to spasm around his cock. Y/N took deep breaths as Kento's cock spurted into her womb. Kento removed the tie from her mouth with a flushed face. His hair had fallen out of place and Y/N swore she saw a few droplets of sweat run down his face.

-

They giggled like high schoolers who were caught making out in the janitor's closet at the realization of what they had just done. Y/N helped Nanami pick up all of the miscellaneous objects that had fallen on the floor before fixing her clothing. She clenched her thighs as she walked to avoid his sperm dripping down her thighs.

"My dress is wrinkled," Y/N whined as the two of them exited the sex-filled office. Nanami made a small note to buy an air freshener before going back down there.

"No one will notice," He whispered as he pulled the hem of her dress down. He had forgotten that he ripped her panties so he was trying to get her home as soon as possible before her cum started to drip out of her.

"Hey, Nanami, Y/N," Gojo crept up from behind them. Nanami internally groaned, Gojo was the last person that they needed to run into right now.

"Hi, Gojo," Y/N spoke just to be polite. It's one of the qualities that Nanami appreciated about her but right now, he wished it was anyone but Gojo.

"Nanami, where's your tie? What's with that stai-. Naughty, naughty couple," Gojo said while wagging a finger between the two. Nanami simply rubbed his face before continuing to walk Y/N out to her car. Gojo laughed at the couple but was secretly happy for them.

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #gojo satoru #nanami x black reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x black!reader #nanami kento #kento x black!reader #jjk x black!reader #jjk #jjk x reader

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[splishsplashyouropinionistrash]

hello hello my loves, it's been a while since I've done a fic rec list and I'm feeling *inspired*

my qualifications are that i'm a loser and have read over a thousand fics so far in 2023

Was Sorta Hopin' That You'd Stay by jaydreamz (8/8)

Minyard Josten rivalry but they actually hate each other. They have a prank war. It's beautiful.

Eighteen Wheels And Three Beating Hearts by Autumnalpalmetto, IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos (21/21)

Small town AU, Neil is a trucker with a son and Andrew runs a diner. So many found family feels, was giggling like a child the whole time. Connor owns my heart.

Die Free Or Die A Failure by Mickey_99 (54/54)

This one. This one!!! It's so good. Like, so good. It's a Raven!Neil fic, where Neil escapes the Nest and joins Kevin at PSU. It's super dark at times, but so lovely? The found family in this one is just *chefs kiss*

I Guess This Is Where I Say Goodbye by Artificiosus (2/2)

Listen y'all. I bawled like a baby reading this one. Full on ugly sobbing. It was amazing. It's MCD, so be careful. Neil gets in a car crash and calls Andrew, but Andrew doesn't pick up. The whole fic is Neil's voicemail and Andrew's reaction. It's so beautiful and so so sad.

Here And Where You Are by pentagrammed (1/1)

This one!!! It's almost sort-of MCD? But not actually. Read it, I'm begging. There's not much I can say about it without spoilers, so just... read it.

Dating & Other Disasters by lolainslackss, moonix (12/12)

Okok but this one. It's fake dating, the Foxes all go to a fine arts school. Neil is an actor and Andrew is a writer. It's so good !!! Andrew's poem lives rent-free in my head.

Murder Boyfriends by justadreamfox (3/3)

Heathers AU!!! It's beautiful, I'm in love with it. Go forth and read.

Better Than A Night Light by Ominous (1/1)

Literally 7k of fluff. Neil watches one of those alien horror movies and gets scared by it (but Drew is there to help, ofc)

Small Angry Gardeners by SensationalSunburst (8 part series)

Neil and Andrew's adventures in homeowning, gardening, meeting neighbors, owning animals, and other domestic bullshit. So fluffy, so sweet, so fun. Simply adore.

Heimkehr Means Homecoming by This_Witch_Writes (2 part series)

Cass is good! Andrew gets a mom! Family !!!! Literally so good, I cried a lot.

What Does 'Viral' Mean? by darkbluebox (1/1)

Kevin is a sports commentator after retirement, and Neil joins him for a game. So much bickering. Fucking hilarious

In Reel And Rout by maydaykevin (10/10)

Fantasy pirates AU. Vaguely Pirates of the Caribbean? So good though, oh my god. Andrew has water powers and shit. Neil is a pirate captain. I'm in love.

The Exy Team Is Nuts: A Survival Guide For The Uninitiated by Cute Negativity Cloud (Ofelia) (1/1)

The Foxes from the perspective of the other sports team. They have a whiteboard with rules for how to deal with them without being murdered/beaten up/insulted to death. It's fucking hilarious

Kill My Mind (Raise My Body Back To Life) by r3mus (1/1)

Ghostface!Andriel. They're murder boyfriends who kill bad people. It was such a fun read tbh

Queer Eye For The Demi Guy by neilwrites (13/13)

Neil goes on Queer Eye. The Monsters + Allison are the fab 5. it's wonderful, I love it.

Baby I'll Bleed You Dry by priorwalter (2 part series)

The Twilight AU this fandom desperately needed. In which Andrew is Edward, Neil is Bella, and many jokes are made. I spend a solid half an hour cackling

The Gaslights Burn Brightly by This_Witch_Writes (8/8)

Okok so Andrew and Neil were childhood friends, but Neil disappears one day and everyone convinces Andrew that he never existed at all. Eight years later, they meet again at PSU. It was so. Amazing. I love this author sm

A Dad By Any Other Name by SensationalSunburst (2/2)

Coach Wymack being a dad for 5k. That's it. That's the fic. (5+1 Wymack being a dad)

Called It Home by jingerhead (1/1)

Neil is spiderman. Spoilers for No Way Home. Guys it's so good !!

What We Ask by constellationqueen (40/40)

Neil gets hurt. Andrew helps him. SUUUUPER dark guys, like. Super dark. MCD too, so watch out. Really sad but so so beautiful, I sobbed so violently my sibling thought someone had died

The Suit Universe by marie_pothos (17 part series)

Ohhhhhh my god THIS ONE!!! My all time fave series. It's a popstar AU, but Neil is basically Taylor Swift. It's all based off of Taylor Swift songs. Absolute must read, even if you don't like TS that much. It's so beautiful, and funny, and so so sweet, and just- I could go on forever about this one.

Shake My Tomb by exactly13percent_OLD (hymbeaux) (10/10)

Butcher!Neil (sorta). kevin goes to Neil for protection from Riko, so neil goes to PSU. So beautifully written, I just re-read it today. It's so good guys.

Take To The Wing by iceEckos12 (20/20)

Neil signs the contract during his Christmas at Evermore. Surprisingly fluffy for a Nest fic, and there are some absolutely wonderful OCs. I would die for Joshua.

Something In Return by reaching_my_summit (10/10)

Neil and Andrew go to Disney World. That's the whole fic. Tooth-rotting fluff, it's amazing

Funky Happenings With The Fox Family by dobbypussypopper (27/27)

THE Fox group chat fic. It's fucking hilarious, I laughed so hard I started crying.

The Marks We Make by Fortheloveofexy (11/11)

Soulmate AU. Guys, this fic. It's one of my favorites. I reread it all the time. It's so good, and so sweet, and just UGH. I adore it so much.

Falling. by Idnis (16/16)

Art School AU where Andrew is a photographer and Neil is a painter. It's so poetic and beautiful, I'm begging you to read it.

Too Gay To Function by gluupor (1/1)

Mean Girls fusion. Andrew is Regina George. Enough said.

And there you go! This is a very very small fraction of the fics I've read this year, so obviously I have more if anyone's interested.

Go forth and read !

#aftg #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #andreil #aftg fanfic #aftg fic #aftg fic recs #splishsplash originals #splishsplash recs

[loviatarsluv]

Would That I (3)

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place in an AU where the absolute and the cult basically don't exist so this is non-canon compliant, I guess)

rating: slightly mature (no spice just yet)

content includes: yearning and pining (still), teacher gale, tara being the best wingman (heh) in waterdeep, fluff

in summary: things are still a little tense the morning after the almost kiss, and both gale and elara are miserable (but still somehow cannot communicate properly for the life of themselves) until an unexpected magic lesson brings them together and makes them have a much needed discussion

a/n: ugh I wanted to make this a slow slow slow burn but I just can’t help it I need to write sweet wizard smut STAT so here we flippin go gamers it has begun

word count: 7k

Wordless meals and silent mornings were not a novel concept. 

She’d endured many in her years living with her uncle, who was not exactly a morning person by any means, whilst she typically was the opposite. 

She was an early riser, always had been. She loved waking up with just enough time to greet the sun as it peeked over the horizon. She loved being able to sit outside and admire the way it painted the sky in gorgeous pastel hues as if it were an offering or a gift to those who woke early enough to see it. She loved the purity of the calm and quiet of the breeze off of the ocean and the songs of the birds before the rest of the world had begun to stir for the day, before the sounds of the bustle of the city could drown them out.

The first month or so living here in Waterdeep, mornings were mostly like this, as they hadn’t really gotten to know each other well enough for any substantial conversation or even most small talk. It wasn’t quite so agonizing then, though, as it is now. It was a gentle awkwardness then, both of them wanting to initiate conversation but not really knowing how to. This— this was much worse. 

She woke to the smell of breakfast already cooking and the faint sounds of pots and pans clattering. That was her first warning sign. 

She almost always woke before Gale on any given day. She would normally be lounging by her favorite tree or reclining on the sofa in the main area reading by the time he stumbled into the kitchen, eyes still full of sleep and voice still gruff. 

She debated just locking herself in this room and hiding away until uncle Alastor returned— as impractical as it was of an idea, its appeal only increased  as her morning dragged on. 

She took her time dressing for the day, hoping maybe Gale would finish his breakfast before she made it downstairs and move on with his day. That, of course, was a fruitless thought. 

Even with tensions as high as they were, he still waited for her, busying himself by burying his nose within a tome about Abjuration as he absently pushed around his food with his fork. 

He was still in his night clothes— his loose white linen shirt very loosely laced and showcasing the dark hair on his chest, his deep indigo comfort robe very lazily thrown over his shoulders, and she assumed he was wearing his matching linen pants as well but couldn’t see past the table. His glasses were perched in the spot they almost always were whenever he read— right on the tip of his nose— as his brows furrowed in concentration while his dark eyes skimmed over the pages. His hair was mostly tied back, only a few loose strands falling around his shoulders and face. 

The universe was mocking her, she was sure of it. 

He was being dangled in front of her, like a carrot being dangled on a string before a rabbit to encourage it to run. And oh, hells, did she want to run right into his arms— if only they had been open for her to run into. 

“Good morning,” He says, never looking up from the pages of his book as he greets her, his voice warm but not entirely eager. Not the way it had been nearly every morning prior.

“Morning,” she says meekly, her voice still rough from slumber. She sits without another word, staring down at her plate. 

She knows that he won’t eat unless she does, he always waited for her to eat before he took a bite. But she could not muster the appetite to even be interested in what looked to be an otherwise delicious breakfast. She sighs, grabbing her fork and prodding at one of the eggs on her plate. 

His eyebrow quirks as he glances up at her, noticing her poking at her food when normally she’d have been wolfing it down by now. He clears his throat. “Not hungry?” 

She meets his gaze with trepidation, hoping she isn’t offending him even further than she already had the night prior. She sits back in her seat, leaning her head against the backing of it and directing her face toward the ceiling. “Not particularly.” She admits. 

He nods, then takes a small bite of his own food. “I can save it for you, for when you are. If you’d like.” 

She offers him a weak but thankful smile. “I’d appreciate that.” 

Not another word was exchanged between them for the rest of the time that they both remained downstairs, until eventually Gale stood and grabbed both of their plates and began to wash up, barely acknowledging her as he reached over her to reach her plate. 

Agonizing may have been putting it lightly. She was in utter misery. 

She wanted to ask him if there was a time traveling spell that he could teach her, but decided maybe that wasn’t the best idea considering he was very clearly a large reason for her wanting to learn the spell to begin with. 

She stays frozen in her seat for what felt like an eternity, unsure whether she wanted to break the silence or not. She took far too long to decide, because after a while, Gale emerged from the kitchen once again and breezed past her, heading straight for the stairs. She doesn’t dare turn to look, but she hears him pause on the first step for a moment before continuing to ascend the steps and retreat into his office for the day. 

“Fucking hells,” she curses under her breath, her head falling into her hands as she releases an exasperated huff. Her shoulders began to ache from how tense she’d held them for the entire morning so far, but her muscles had no intent on relaxing any time soon. 

“Language, Miss Heartspell,” Tara chides as she glides down onto the table from somewhere behind her. She jumps slightly, the sudden presence unexpected. 

She sighs, placing a hand over her heart. “Tara. You scared the hells out of me,” she tries to steady her breathing. “I’m sorry.” 

“What ails you this morning, friend? You look like you barely slept a wink.” The tressym observes, her large green eyes boring into her as she eyes her curiously and with slight concern. 

Your wizard and his big dumb brown eyes and his stupidly beautiful hair and that godsdamned shirt—

“Just tired. Couldn’t sleep well last night.” 

That was putting it very simply. She had barely slept more than a handful of hours, not nearly enough to be well rested enough to function through the day. She felt terrible, and it seemed that she looked the part as well, according to her small feathered friend. 

“Would this have anything to do with Mr. Dekarios and his admittedly awful attitude?” she grunts, rolling her eyes and baring her teeth slightly. “He’s been incorrigible since yesterday evening.”

How to politely tell a grumpy tressym that you may or may not be the cause of her wizard’s ire— step one: don’t. 

“Has he? I hadn’t noticed,” she remarks nonchalantly, the tiniest hint of sarcasm in her tone. “I’m sure he’s fine.” 

Tara scoffs, stretching her tiny body as far as she can and yawning, digging her claws into the placemat where Gale’s plate had been a few minutes prior. “Maybe he’s finally realized he needs to shave that wretched thing on his chin.” 

She lets out a chuckle— though she rather loved his facial hair, for numerous reasons— she found Tara’s hatred for it endlessly amusing. She was constantly pestering him to shave or at the very least trim it, and likely he ignored her just to spite her. Their bond reminded her of a doting mother and her slightly rebellious but very respectful son. She’d raised him right. Her, and Morena, of course. 

She hadn’t met his mother yet, only heard stories and small little details about her that he’d share. She seemed lovely, just based on what her son told her. Plus, any woman who could raise a man like Gale Dekarios had to be something special. 

She wonders how many lovers he’d taken to meet her, if any had ever made it far enough for him to deem it appropriate to introduce them— she wonders what his criteria for such a thing would be. 

“Tara? Can I ask you a question?” She asks, biting down on her lip nervously. 

Tara stares back at her expectantly, awaiting her questioning. 

“It’s a strange question… just— please, keep this between us, okay?” She begins, placing her elbow on the table and resting her cheek against her hand. “Has… has Gale ever been… married?” 

Tara has to hold back a cackle, stopping herself before her amusement takes hold. “Oh, darling, no. Mr. Dekarios has had few friends, we’ll call them. Can hardly get the man’s nose out of his books, doesn’t typically fare well for his social life, much less his romantic life.” 

She blinks rapidly in surprise, her eyes widening. It made sense, and no sense at all in the same vein. It seemed so strange, just considering who Gale was and the gentlemanly nature of him that he hadn’t had any long term loves. She would’ve imagined him to either have had several failed loves or only one very long term one— more likely the latter, she thought. 

She nods. “Makes sense.” A lie. 

Tara eyes her suspiciously, carefully strolling across the table to her. “Miss Heartspell, might I be so bold for just a moment, to ask you what that ninny upstairs seems to be too frightened to?” 

She cocks an eyebrow up at her, sitting up straight in her chair. “What might that be?” 

“Are you spoken for? Have you got someone waiting for you back in Rivington?” She asks, sitting perfectly prim and proper in front of her, her peridot irises catching her crystal blue ones in an intense gaze. 

She pauses for a minute, the question having caught her more than off guard. “N-No, I don’t. I don’t exactly have the most successful social life, either.” 

Tara’s eyes gleamed, seeming all too pleased and Elara could tell that if she could, she’d undoubtedly have a knowing smirk on her face. 

“Hm. Fascinating.” Is all she says before prepping her wings to take flight, flapping them and stretching them gently. Before she can give any sort of response, Tara departs from the conversation and soars out of the open window, surely off to terrorize all the local gulls and pigeons. The mail couriers must wish to stuff her or turn her into stew at this point. 

These two and the way they end conversations. Ugh. 

Which reminds her— once again, ugh. 

Last night could not have ended worse, aside from possibly being told to pack her belongings and leave— though she doubts that Gale would ever do that without warning. 

She wanted to talk to Gale about everything— well, maybe not everything— but she had never really talked to anybody about her parents or what happened to them. Not even Alastor. It was a forbidden subject in that household as far as she was concerned. Too many emotions to sort through to pile onto someone else. Plus, she didn’t want to be treated differently, or viewed through different eyes that pitied her. It happened so many years ago, but the occasional nightmares made her feel as though it happened only the night prior. 

Perhaps it would be nice— to talk to someone. Gale was easy to talk to. He listened so intently and he was always engaged, even if it were the most uninteresting conversation in the world. Perhaps that was why he was so well learned— he was an excellent listener. 

It couldn’t hurt to try. 

 ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆

The door to his study seemed so much more imposing when you were on the other side of it, with your knuckles primed to meet the sturdy wood and plead for entry. 

He almost never shut his office door.

Perhaps now isn’t a good time. 

She sighs quietly, her chin falling to rest on her chest and her gaze at the spot on the floor between her feet, defeated. 

Perhaps another time. 

She turns to head down the hall toward her bedroom, just as she hears the creaking of the office door behind her, opening. 

She shifts slightly, peering over her shoulder and expecting to find a certain pair of brown eyes watching her as she creeps through the hall— only to find nothing. The door was slightly ajar, but no sight of the wizard within. 

Curious, she takes a few cautious steps forward, careful to move quietly and mindfully. She stops just before she could peek in to see whether Gale was at his desk or not, using the door to shield herself from view— then she hears the sound of a strange whooshing from right on the other side of the door, to the opposite side of the room, likely where Gale sat. She raises her eyebrow, confusion written all over her face as she finally peeks in the room. 

Gale is at his desk, where she half expected him to be, leaning against the back of his chair, his feet propped on a small stool next to him and a scroll in hand. 

Normal. 

Her eyes scan a little further to search for the source of the strange noise, finding nothing— until she hears it again, just before an icy blue flash of light soars across her vision in the shape of a disembodied hand.  

A mage hand. She’d seen her uncle conjure one once before— only because he thought she wasn’t around and couldn’t see. 

The spectral hand flew to the top of one of the large bookcases on the far end of the room, swiftly retrieving a book and bringing it back down and placing it on Gale’s desk. He sighs, running a hand down his face, then scratching against his beard as he places the scroll next to the newly acquired book. 

She cranes her neck a little further, trying to watch as he commands the mage hand around, then loses her balance just enough to send her falling forward and into the room, crash landing into her hands and knees. 

Gale jumps at the sound of her colliding with the ground, standing and leaning over his desk, worry in his eyes as he peers down at her. 

“By Mystra’s mantle, are you alright?” 

She sits up and rubs her hands sheepishly, the heels of them aching from the force of her contact with the hard wooden floor. “Sorry, I just— I was passing by, and I saw— I just… got curious. I apologize.” 

Gale’s brows furrow as he looks around, searching for what was out of the ordinary that she was referring to. He disregards it for a moment as he rounds the side of his desk, briskly walking across the room to her side and offering her a hand up. 

She looks up at him for a moment before accepting his offer, slipping her hand into his. He braces her with his other hand on her elbow and pulls her to her feet, holding her steady while she gets her bearings. 

“Why don’t you always just— use that? Why do you ever have me help when you can just…” she trails off, motioning with her hands what appeared to be a conjuration. 

His eyes widen slightly as he realizes what she was referring to, then motions the mage hand to come closer. “This— have you never seen a mage hand before? Has Alastor not conjured one in front of you before?” 

She shakes her head. “I caught a glimpse of one once, but it was so fast I couldn’t tell what it was. My uncle rarely did magic around me, mostly just small spells here and there. I, myself, only know a few simple spells that I taught myself. Granted, I'm not very good at it, but they’ve come in handy at times.” 

Gale hears Alastor in his head from the night he invited him over for that fateful dinner: perhaps Mr. Dekarios could pick up on your old man’s slack and actually teach you some damn magic. 

“What a strange one, that old man is. Cryptic as ever. I’m not sure why I was under the impression that any of this was old news to you.” He says, motioning to the crystalline digits beside him, motioning for it to wiggle its fingers. 

She shrugs, her eyes locked on the spell with a certain childlike wonder in her eyes that Gale couldn’t help but find most endearing. It reminded him of being young and awed by his own conjurations and manipulations of the weave and those of his professors at Blackstaff. 

“Would you like to learn?” He asks her, snapping her from her daze and her eyes flying to his in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” Her voice is quiet, as if he’d just asked her the most scandalous of questions.

She had long abandoned the hope of learning even just the basics of wizardry, seeing as neither Gale, nor even Alastor in his letters, had ever mentioned it since the night they discussed this arrangement. She never asked, because the last thing she wanted to be was a bother to the man who so kindly took her in without a second thought. She never abandoned her desire to learn all together, though. That still lingered. 

“I don’t see why not,” he drawls, stepping backward a few steps to allow her space to enter the room further. “Perhaps it’ll be helpful for us both. Besides, it’s been quite some time since I’ve had a willing and able pupil to impart my vast knowledge on.” 

I could kiss you right now! 

A grin paints itself across her face so wide that she fears it may crack, her eyes lit up and her hands clasped together in excitement. She realizes and quickly adjusts her behavior from juvenile enthusiasm to calm and collected curiosity, though she couldn’t entirely contain the smile on her face. 

“I’d love to.” Was the tame iteration of what she wanted to say. Given the state of their relationship being somewhat cloudy and confusing at the moment, she rather not push her luck. This was an excellent excuse to get him to talk to her to make up for the painfully silent morning they shared just hours prior. 

Not to mention, it gave her more untainted time with him before she decided to share with him her tales of woe of life as an orphan and being decidedly unpopular within her community back in Rivington. She was more than thankful for the distraction and redirection. 

“Excellent!” He claps his hands together, a pleased smirk on his lips as he takes his glasses off and allows them to fall against his chest, hanging by the dainty golden chain attached to them that hung around his neck. “This one is a fairly easy spell to learn. I learned to conjure my first mage hand at the ripe age of seven. Drove my dear mother up the wall when she’d ask me to do my chores only to catch me lounging with my nose in a book while this fellow did all the heavy lifting.” 

She chuckles, picturing a younger Gale getting into all sorts of mischief and being too smart for his own good and his poor mother trying desperately to keep up with him. She imagines that he has her eyes and her smile, despite never seeing her with her own eyes. It was just a feeling. 

He motions for her to come closer, pointing to the spot just beside him for her to stand. She obliges, standing right where he’d indicated, turning to face the direction he was facing. 

“You said that you know a few simple spells, yes?” 

She nods. 

“Excellent. Would you be able to demonstrate something for me?”

She looks at him with uncertainty for a pause, prompting him to nod and encourage her to try something simple, the look on his face purely that of a warm encouragement and devoid of all judgment. 

Despite this, she still feels the swell of embarrassment before she even attempts the bare minimum spell that she knew— knowing that her talents were meager in comparison to his. She swallows hard and tries to steady herself, attempting to focus so the spell doesn’t go awry. 

She moves her hands in a flourish that took much more effort than anything she’d ever seen Gale do, only to conjure a small flash of purple weave, sparks scintillating at her fingertips as the spell leaves her palm and quickly dissipates into the air. She frowns deeply, averting her gaze back to the ground between her feet. 

“Please don’t laugh at me.” She groans, heaving a sigh as her cheeks and neck heat and tinge a bright pink. 

“Hey,” he coos, crossing the space between them and tapping her chin with his fingertips to urge her face upward to meet his gaze. “I’ve seen novices do much worse than that even after an entire fortnight of study— nobody got hurt, in this case, which is fantastic. Once, during my time at Blackstaff, one of my classmates set the entire room ablaze while practicing simple incantations. I had to be the one to put it out as I was the only one that already knew how to conjure water.” 

She tries in vain to bite back the smile threatening the corners of her lips, and allows a chuckle to pass through her as her eyes meet his. He brushes against her chin with his thumb a couple passes before pulling away. She’s still getting used to Gale’s sudden physicality— not that she would complain. Not even slightly. 

Especially after the events of the evening prior, as she half expected him to be withdrawn entirely. She hoped he took note of the way she leaned ever so slightly into his touch. The way she savored it. 

“I picture you as the perfect pupil to any professor. So bookish and attentive. You’re a scholar’s wet dream.” She jokes, poking his chest with featherlight jabs. He coughs at her crude remark, his eyes widening and his chest heaving as he attempts to regain composure. She’s full blown cackling now, causing his chuckles to join hers in harmony of the melodic sounds surging between them. 

“Perhaps you should borrow a page from my book, then,” he jests as he gives her a lighthearted warning grimace, his earthly eyes glinting golden in the candlelight. “We’ve only just begun our lessons and you’ve already sassed your tutor.” 

“My mistake, Professor Dekarios. I solemnly swear it won’t happen again,” she pauses, a devious smirk on her lips at the name that causes his face to flush at the sound of it. “Probably.” 

He feels something stir within him at the sound of that name falling from her lips that he refuses to recognize, if only to spare himself from the embarrassment of having to explain his body’s impulse reaction to it. He clears his throat, and straightens himself. 

“Alright, alright,” he huffs, leisurely beginning to roll his sleeves further up onto his forearms. “Focus is a key ingredient to this equation, which is clearly something we are lacking.” 

She tries to tame the spark of mischief in her belly, deciding maybe it was best to be a better suited pupil to such esteemed talents as that of Gale of Waterdeep and hold off on any hijinks for the time being, despite how much she reveled in the sound of his laughter, so warm and genuine and real that it felt like being curled up within a thick wool blanket near a fire in the dead of winter. 

It was a much welcome deviation from the despair he held in his graceful but strong features in the dim moonlight streaming through the window of her bedroom the night before. 

Though, she couldn’t resist one last little quip just to get a rise out of him.

“Apologies. Continue, Professor.” She feigns innocence in her light eyes, rounding them and clasping her hands behind her back. 

His face is unreadable, and she almost wonders if she actually managed to upset him with her playful remarks. Only when she notices him allow his tongue to dart out and wet his bottom lip does she consider something else— something that makes her blood feel like molten lava as it surges through her veins. 

He clears his throat once again, suddenly feeling as though the room had risen several degrees in temperature, tiny beads of sweat forming on his back and neck. 

“It’s a fairly simple spell, once you get the hang of it, it’ll be as simple as a flick of the wrist,” he explains, moving to stand beside her and demonstrate the spell. “I’ll show you.” 

He steadies his posture, though the way in which he follows through with the spell seems effortless— as if he could’ve done it while in deep slumber. He whispers the cantrip softly, the Latin words dancing off of his expert tongue in a way that sends a shiver through her. 

Focus, Elara. 

A near impossible task when in his presence. 

The spectral limb hovers before them, the air around it chilly and crackling with pure weave. She steps closer to it, in awe of the strange being. Could she even call it a being? 

Gale smirks triumphantly, then commands the hand to float in a circle around her, her curious eyes following it as it flies past her vision. He halts its movements just in front of her, the palm facing her as an invitation. She lifts her hand tentatively, raising it until her palm is level with the nearly translucent one, her fingertips brushing those of the spell. 

A chill flows through her as her skin makes contact with the specter, her hand jolting backwards at the sensation, only to return for further investigation. It was strange— something so impermanent and ethereal, yet, if it had been warmer, it would have felt like a real corporeal hand. She wondered if Gale could feel anything through the conjuration— if it worked as an extension of his own hand. 

Curious. 

“Would you like to try?” He asks, breaking her from her thoughts as her eyes snap back to his. 

She nods, her gaze flitting back and forth between the wizard and the airborne hand before him. He dismisses it, the spell emitting an airy whoosh as it dissipates. 

“Now, do as I do as closely as you can, and say ‘veni et iuva me’,” He instructs as he moves to stand just beside her, their shoulders mere inches apart. “Ready?” 

With an affirmative nod, she watches him as he expertly demonstrates the spell, the weave appearing around his hands and fingertips in a violet crackling mist, as she’d seen it do before— it made sense why purple was his favorite color, now. It suited him. 

In a flash, another hand appears, just as the one before. Crystalline and nearly translucent. He gives her an encouraging look, his smile easy and eager as he awaits her attempt at the spell. 

She bites down on her bottom lip, then steadies her body and attempts to mimic Gale’s exact movements, then recites the incantation— and much to her surprise, another hand appears before them, glowing blue and bright. 

Excitement fills her to the brim and she feels as though she might explode from pure childhood fulfillment induced delight. She looks at Gale with a giddy grin, giggling with sheer glee. 

“I did it! I actually did it!” She cheers, still attempting to concentrate on the spell so it doesn’t dissolve. 

Gale claps his hands together excitedly, beaming at her with pride. “Excellent! Now, think of exactly what you want it to do, where you want it to go, how you want it to move. Stay focused. You’ve got this.” 

She feels a blush creep to her cheeks under his watchful eyes and his encouragement, but maintains her focus on the spell as she motions for it to move forward, toward one of the bookcases. She imagines the book she wants and knows exactly where it is— it was the thirteenth book from the right on the third shelf from the top. The hand effortlessly retrieves the book, then returns to her, presenting the book to her just as she’d seen it do for Gale. 

She turns to Gale, tears brimming her eyes from pure joy and amazement at her own ability to pull off the spell. It was a simple spell, they both knew that, but for her this was the greatest accomplishment she’d ever achieved thus far, outside of the small spells she’d taught herself over the years. 

Gale smiles at her warmly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Well done, Elara. You did wonderfully, especially as a novice. I’m quite impressed.” 

She tries to contain the grin threatening to turn the corners of her lips, pressing them tightly together, but unable to mask the pure elation in her eyes, tears still pooling in her vision. 

Before she can stop herself, she throws herself at the wizard, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, burying her face into his chest. He grunts at the sudden contact, his body freezing in complete shock and his heart racing a million a second. After a moment of panic, he allows his hands to settle on her back, pulling her close to him and resting his chin on the top of her head. 

Lavender. Gods, he adores the smell of lavender. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She whispers into the soft fabric of his shirt, her voice muffled as she presses herself further into him. 

She pulls back slightly after a moment to look up at him, her still teary eyes meeting his, and he gives her a warm but reserved smile. Her eyes soften, her brows scrunching with concern. “What’s wrong?” 

He shakes his head, feigning ignorance. “Nothing at all. I’m— ah— I’m very happy to teach you more, if you’d like.” 

She observes him for a moment, noting that something was on his mind that he wasn’t expressing. She frowns. “Gale?” 

He sighs, pulling away from her completely and turning away, his hand running over his face in distress. The large study falls into a heavy silence for a few moments before he walks toward the large window where she often perched herself as he worked. He allows his hand to trail the spot where he has found her dozens of times before, gazing out at the seaside, the wind rustling her raven tresses like a tidal wave. 

“Forgive me, I’m just feeling a bit under the weather today.” He resigns, rubbing his eyes with his finger and his thumb and then running a shaky hand through his hair. 

She swears with how silent the room was, you'd have been able to hear her heart thumping away in her chest as if it were a war drum.

Here it goes. 

“Is this… about last night?” Her voice is meek and timid when she asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth nervously. 

Gale keeps his back to her, and she can see the muscles in his shoulders and back tense at her query, as if he was bracing for a blow at any second. 

“I… it’s nothing, Elara. I’m quite alright.” His voice is curt but still holds the ardor toward her that it always did when he spoke to her— he was warm to everyone he met, but there was a specific tone he used when he spoke to her. She had only begun to notice it in the last few days, and she feared the day that it went away.

“Gale,” She pleads, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm. He tenses further under her delicate hand. “I’m so sorry. I owe you an explanation. I should’ve never—”

He spins to face her briskly, his expression hard, betraying the way his dark eyes twinkled as he looked at her. “You don’t owe me anything, Elara. I should have never crossed any of the lines that I’ve crossed, and my behavior is inexcusable. Deplorable. You needn’t apologize for a thing.” 

Her hand still lingers on him, now having moved to his chest after he’d shifted to face her. She stares at how small and frail her hand looked against his solid frame. She closes her eyes, honing in on the feeling of his chest against her palm as it rises and falls rapidly with his breathing. She can feel his heartbeat. She wished he could feel hers as well. She wonders if he could hear it like she feared he could. 

“Elara…” Broken. Torn. The only words capable of describing the man’s voice as he squirms under her touch, unsure whether to move away or lean into it. What he wanted and what he felt was right to do were at complete odds, as they always seemed to be as of late. 

“I never drew any lines, Gale.” 

His eyes widened. Had he heard her right? Surely, he was mishearing. Perhaps he should have his ears checked soon. Or perhaps he’d finally started to lose it. 

One too many romance tomes. 

“What did you—”

“You can’t cross a line that was never drawn to begin with.” She grips at the fabric of his shirt, finally opening her own eyes to find the utter shock in his. 

He shakes his head, his mouth opening and closing several times as his mind attempts to formulate a coherent sentence that wouldn’t just come out as complete nonsense. 

“Please,” she sighs, her mind at war within itself as she fights to find the right words to convey it all properly. If any even existed. “You must stop making assumptions about the way I feel before I have the chance to sort through them myself.” 

He looks visibly shaken, as realization hits him once her words sink in. “Are you saying—”

“I don’t know if I have the right words to explain, right now,” she admits. “What I do know is that I don’t need you to decide how I feel for me. Especially how I feel towards you.” 

How I feel for you, she wanted to say. 

The hand that had been gripping his shirt slowly begins to fall, but is swiftly caught against the hard planes of his stomach with a strong hand, holding it gently as if it may break and shatter from the slightest touch but firm so as to keep it there, at all costs. 

His eyes bore into hers, the intensity in them something that shook her to her core. She had to look away. 

“Elara,” he breathes, the sound equal parts desperate and hopeful. He adjusts her hand so that it’s flat against his stomach, and drags it to the left side of his chest, pressing her palm into it. “Do you feel it?” 

The rhythm against her palm is rapid and thunderous, the feel of his chest is solid and strong and she can hardly breathe. She nods, while attempting to remember to take air into her lungs and release it back out, then repeat. 

He leans his face down closer to hers, his voice low and husky as he whispers to her, “I hope this tells you everything you need to know.” 

Her mouth parts and she sucks in a sharp breath. She feels as though her entire body had become nothing more than a melty mass of human goo under his gaze and his touch and what he’s saying without saying it directly— is this a dream? Was she dreaming? 

How did this encounter begin with him scooping her off of the floor after her face planting into it, only to land here, with his heart against her palm and his lips so close, too close once again? 

It was like Deja vu— the way their faces drifted closer to each other as if some invisible force were pushing them together, just as they had less than twenty four hours prior. It was familiar and yet so new, an entirely new rush of energy and emotion charging them this time.

She feels one of his hands move to rest against the side of her neck, his fingers tilting her jaw upward as he dives in, his nose brushing hers and their breaths intermingling. Her eyes flutter closed as she prepares for the feeling of his lips against hers, only to feel nothing but his thumb dragging across her bottom lip. 

Her eyes shoot open, her brows furrowed in confusion and a hint of frustration. His eyes flit back and forth between hers, searching for something, anything, that would tell him to stop. “Is this what you want?” 

A sound akin to a whine or a groan leaves her lips before she can stop it. She chokes on the word yes before she can even utter it, so instead she nods desperately.

Not a second is wasted before lips are entwined and tongues are tangled— one of his hands moves to grip her waist and pull her body against his, the fullness of her chest pressing against his solid one causing him to break the kiss to suck in a sharp breath and moan slightly, the sound low and rumbling in his ribs. She catches the muffled sounds within the kiss, drinking them in and savoring them as if they were the finest wine she’d ever tasted. 

It all feels so surreal. He feels surreal. As if maybe she’d never woken up this morning and this was all some incredibly vivid dream that she never hoped to wake from. It would make sense— this wouldn’t be the first time Gale had invaded her dreams and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last either. 

The tips of his fingers dig into the plush flesh at her hips, his other hand moving to caress the back of her head and lacing his fingers through the dark tresses at the nape of her neck. Heaven. This is heaven. 

She feels him beginning to walk her backward, unaware of the direction until she feels the edge of his large mahogany desk bump into her lower back and she almost hisses in pain, but swallows it before she can. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered past his lips and his body and his heart still steadily beating against her palm. 

All too soon, he breaks away from the kiss, his eyes wild with lust but a bit of trepidation that sets her on edge. “What is it?” 

Gale’s chest heaves with concerted effort as he looks at her, his hands still at her hips and his body still pressed firmly to hers. He takes in a shaky breath as if it pained him to do so. “I just— gods, I want to do this. More than you can possibly imagine,” he starts, his words coming out in whimpered and hushed tones that set her entire body ablaze, even more so than it already had been. 

“But…” she continues for him. 

He clasps his eyes shut tight, the little lines between his brows deepening and becoming more prominent. She ignores the urge to smooth them out with her thumb. “I’d like to know more about you as a person before I get to know you as a woman, if that makes sense.” 

She’s unable to contain the chuckle that escapes her lips at his gentlemanly attempt at being coy, rather than laying it out in blunt terms as she likely would have. He softens at the sight of her smile, his shoulders relaxing and sagging in relief. 

“Are you saying you’d like to court me before taking me to bed?” She asks, amusement in her tone as she playfully pokes his nose which scrunches at her teasing. 

He catches her wrist in his hand and places a kiss to the soft skin at the heel of her palm. “Ideally, if it’s amenable to you.” 

That would be putting it incredibly mildly.

She studies his face— as she’d done a million times before— she’d seen him disheveled from sleep or stress as he studied a particularly convoluted subject, his hair mussed and messy and his lips pressed into a hard line, his eyes weary and half open. She’d thought it strange how even in what would be considered one’s worst state, he looked exquisite and refined, still with that same air of elegance and grace about him that he had at his very best when he was in his robes and confidently discussing a topic that interested him. 

But this state of disrepair was something else entirely. 

His eyes were heavily lidded but not from exhaustion, the dark umber pools of his irises swimming with desire and need. His lips were visibly swollen as they peeked out from behind the thick bushel of hair that covered his chin and upper lip, still glossy from her as evidence of their kiss. His shirt crumpled and creased where her fingers had gripped the fabric tightly in her fist. He looked completely undone, and it was her that had been his undoing. 

Gods, have mercy. It’s a wonder that she hadn’t jumped his bones at the sight alone, she thinks. 

“What? Is something wrong?” He asks, his voice breaking her from her reverie and snapping her out of the myriad of filthy thoughts that had been rushing through her lust laden mind. 

She shakes her head, partially in response to him and partially in attempts to ground herself. “Nothing else in my life has felt quite as right as it does right now.” She admits. 

It was the truth. Not much had felt right in her life up to this point— something always felt off, like there was a missing piece to the puzzle that was her life that had been missing for as long as she could remember. 

This was as close to feeling whole as she had ever felt in her life. 

Though, there were still two missing pieces. But she had accepted long ago that they would never return. A bitter truth, but a truth nonetheless. 

He looks as though she’d just told him the best news he’d ever received, elation writ large upon his face as a wide grin splays across his lips. “Well, in that case,” He pulls her into him, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her just enough to where only her toes were still touching the ground, eliciting a giggle from her that only makes his smile grow wider. “Would you possibly have the time to share a glass of wine and a lovely candlelit dinner with me this evening?” 

Her cheeks had begun to ache from smiling at this point, but she couldn’t contain it. Nor did she desire to. 

“I think I’d be amenable to that.” 

tags: @goddess-bound @mirandpeglell @celestialowlbear 🩷 (thank u guys for ur love I hope u like this chapter!!!!)

this is part three of a series - ✧ (ch 1) ✧ (ch 2)

#next chapter I am determined to have some smut I can’t take this anymore #I need to kiss the wizard with tongue I need to #gale #gale dekarios fic #gale bg3 #gale dekarios fanfic #gale x f!tav #gale x f!oc #gale x oc #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 au #bg3 oc #oc: elara heartspell #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #my fics #wti

[marknee]

bts fanfics i think shakespeare is rolling around in his grave about right now.

chapter i. ✷ chapter iii.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — dude, what has that grave ever done to you?

( ♬ ) — i think we broke him.

( ✎ ) — he hasn’t moved in a while. should i check on him?

( ♛ ) — he’s deceased. again. dunno if that’s possible.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content will be highlighted in bold.

NOTE: yes, this is a series now. exciting, am i right? i fear there are too many incredible fics on this app to fit them into one part, so this will be multiple parts — you can access the masterlist above! leggo.

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( ✮ ) CASTAWAYS — by @rmnamjoons

!! namjoon x reader | 25.5k !!

smut (18+) with plot, slow burn, fluff, angst if you squint, happy ending, so much teasing.

you ever seen the 2000 film ‘cast away’? the one with tom hanks and his inanimate volleyball named wilson? yeah, this fic is exactly what that film should’ve been. it largely lacked the existence of namjoon, and the undeniable sexual tension we were denied for a throwing ball.

namjoon’s characterisation in this is unreal. he’s so gentle and tender with his words, yet so rough and unforgiving within the sheets. you almost don’t realise it’s the same person, but am i complaining? not really. quite the contrary actually.

also, i like that it’s very realistic in some aspects. everything they do to survive on an island is exactly what you imagine yourself doing if you were dropped into their shoes, lost and fearful that any moment might just be your last.

though i went through years of scouting myself, i do not feel i am equipped enough to survive on a deserted island with an embarrassingly hot guy i met days prior. but if miss y/n can do it with less experience than i, then o ye of little faith.

i wish i could engrave this fic into my brain so i can read it whenever i please, so i guess i’m just lucky it exists here on tumblr for free. an honour, really.

@rmnamjoons has outdone themselves yet again.

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( ♬ ) TAMPED — by @chimoona

!! jungkook x reader | 19.7k !!

smut (18+), fluff, humour, slow burn, mild angst/jealously, barista!au, lil bit of yoongi smut.

never mind shakespeare, this fic had me rolling around in my grave. and i’m not even dead.

if you had to choose any piece of advice to take away from this essay, let it be do not read fics like this in public. or in the presence of literally anybody. you will either a) start kicking your legs and squealing, or b) throw your phone and need a moment to compose yourself. learn from me, yes?

min yoongi is the funniest mf in this, especially in the way he teases the reader about not having been laid in a millennium. he makes this fic just an absolute treat to read. and the friendship with seokjin is so incredibly warming. you can feel the fondness they have for each other bursting through the pages (…screen? have i said that before?).

but, undoubtedly, what pulls everything together is the relationship between the reader and jungkook. it starts as toleration, then care, before it blooms into tenderness and finally, love. and you can’t get enough. of them and of the story.

you can’t help but fall in love yourself. definitely worth a read.

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( ✮ ) ADJUSTMENT — by @yminie

!! hoseok x reader | 7.1k !!

smut (18+), fluff, chiropractor!hoseok, patient!reader.

the fact the authors note is, “promise it’s not a cheesy porno,” needs a mention of its own. it made me laugh, and it definitely lived up to that statement. it was better than a cheesy porno.

this fic alone at 7k does what some 20k+ fics fail to do. and that’s a talent, truly. i swear, there were moments i felt as if i was third-wheeling and intruding on something very private and very personal. i probably should’ve walked out that doctors room and left them to it.

i think i’ve said it before, but this is another great example of a good smut laced within a good plot. it was interesting, hooked you in, and left you feeling quite satisfied. content is the word i think i should say.

shame shakespeare never wrote smut, but also not really because we have authors like this who do it better.

@yminie, i’ll be keeping my eye on you. an incredible fic, really.

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( ♛ ) WATERLOO — by @kinktae

!! art prodigy!taehyung x art student!reader | 13k !!

fluff, angst, some light smut, slow burn.

this was one of the first fanfics i ever read on this app. and that was what? a few years ago? wow. i’m old.

now, my memory isn’t incredible, but the fact this is one of the few fics i remember reading in a fandom i was unfamiliar to all those years ago, says a lot. about the story, the writing, and the author.

waterloo was like a soft push of the hand that guided me into the world of bts fanfics, and for that, i’m eternally grateful. i’ve never been one to dive into things straight away. i like guidance. i like ease.

so, my dear reader, if you have any friends who’re just getting into tumblr fics about bts and need that sturdy push, i solely advise you recommend this to them. but if not, this is a great fic to read otherwise.

it’s angsty, it’s cheesy, it’s cute, and it’s memorable. who doesn’t love an art prology taehyung? people who’re boring, that’s who.

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( ♛ ) FROM EDEN — by @ddaenggtan

!! hoseok x yoongi x reader | 15.6k !!

greek god au, hades!reader, thanatos!hoseok, persephone!yoongi, smut, fluff, angst, violence.

anyone else go through a greek god phase? i consumed all those stories like they were my breakfast. and as you would have it, my favourite to read about was the story of hades and persephone, also known as the coming of spring and winter.

this fic is genuinely so addictive and it really knocks the tag ‘greek god!au’ out the park. it does an amazing job of representing the story we all know and love, while adding some adaptations of its own, giving the story a unique twist.

i would happily write a five thousand word essay on how much i adore bangtan as greek gods, but i fear what would become of me if i did. so i shall not. for both my sake and yours.

as shakespeare never said, but lady gaga did: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique.. etc.

and yoongi, for heavens sake, no pomegranates!

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( ✎ ) VOID — by @btssavedmylifeblr (series)

!! bts x reader | 82k !!

space!au, science fiction, a lot of smut (18+), angst.

one of the reasons why i created this series is so i can do one of my favourite things ever: share what i love. i think there something so beautiful in the art of spreading appreciation. and usually, my friends were the ones who had to listen to these essays before you did, sweet reader. and this fic was one of those i didn’t shut up about.

by the end of my rant about this series, i don’t think they even needed to read it. i’d done it for them simply by talking. which is why, i will keep this short and simple. so i don’t do the same for you.

this series is so well thought out. every little detail, every hurdle in the road, every step seems to have been thought of before hand and it makes the journey that much more gripping. so, kudos to the author for that. extra brownie points.

every member has their role, their part, their moment in the story and they’re all indefinitely important and make up a team. alike bangtan, they’re all needed in order to make the ship work. without one, it’d be going down and they’d all be yelling timber. (love that song).

teamwork makes the dream work, people.

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( ♬ ) PEACHES AND CREAM — by @snackhobi

!! jimin x reader | 9.1k !!

pure smut (18+).

let’s start with three words: lord have mercy. personally, i think that sums everything up pretty well. but if i left it at that, this wouldn’t be an essay now would it? so let’s continue.

the fact this fic was almost called ‘jimin and the fucking peach’ after james and the giant peach deserves extra credit for the absolute monstrosity of a laugh that escaped my mouth after reading that. a missed opportunity, truly.

honestly, jimin and his actions within this fic desperately need examining by a team of scientists in the study of inane methods to get someone’s attention because, and excuse my french, fuck me.

shakespeare was definitely giggling reading this. perhaps even kicking his legs. love that for him.

but, according to the key i put down for this fic, i also think we broke him. understandable, mate. same here. i’ll never be the same.

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( ♛ ) OH MY GOD, THEY WERE (QUARANTINED) ROOMMATES — by @ot7always

!! jungkook x reader | 22.8k !!

college!au, roommates!au, fluff, smut (18+).

the absolute audacity.

the reader really has the gall to sit and complain about what unfortunate circumstances she’s in, all the while she’s stuck with the jeon jungkook of all people. i cannot deal. i wish my quarantine trapped me inside with one of the hottest men on the planet.

apart from that, how can you not love this fic? rhetorical question, dear reader. you can’t.

the undeniable sexual tension that lingers throughout the entirety of this story builds up, like lego pieces on top of one another, until it finally falls and breaks into two. and you can’t reject the satisfaction of it all.

i was lucky enough to have read this two years ago (three now as i’m writing this) while we were actively going through lockdown, and it does an amazing job of describing everything we were all feeling during that time. bored, worried, confused, lonely, frustrated, and horny (…just saying).

it made things a bit more bearable. and it’s got shirtless jungkook.

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( ✎ ) THE WAY TO YOUR HEART — by @joonary

!! yoongi x reader | 9k !!

fluff, humour, office!au, coworkers!au.

the fluffiest fluff that ever did fluff. bet you shakespeare never said that in his life. shame. at least i beat him in something.

believe me when i say i was grinning like an idiot the whole time reading this, with my cheeks lightly aching. with this app filled to the brim with angst and heavier stories, this fic was like a breath of fresh air. a warm, hearty homemade meal after a rough day out in the merciless world.

if you’re in need of a hug but aren’t the physical touch kind of person, the solution is right here, my friend. this fic will rejuvenate your system and make you feel a whole lot better. believe me.

also, can i just say. the author made an impeccable job of leaving me even pickier about attributes of my future spouse than what i started with. like, how am i supposed to explain to someone i want a partner just like this exact, specific version of yoongi? like. i mean this one. all i’ll say is it proves difficult.

@joonary is the shakespeare we needed. instead he wrote romances disguised as tragedies where both parties die at the end. what the fuck.

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( ♛ ) STUCK WITH YOU — by @taleasnewastime

!! seokjin x reader | 29.6k !!

strangers to lovers, smut (18+), angst, fluff.

is anyone else surprised @taleasnewastime is here again? ‘cause i’m not. her work is next level (naevis? is that you?). and i’m not ashamed to say i stalked the entirety of her masterlist after this masterpiece. hint, hint, nudge, nudge, people.

the chemistry etched within this fic is off the charts. everything is there. the banter, the tenderness, the angst, the longing to accept love, the grief. all wrapped into a bundle and gifted with a side of heartache and woe.

we all need a person like seokjin’s character in our lives. someone who lifts us from dark times and (re: figuratively) throws us into the light. i fear helps might be a better option of wording. am i right?

this story dragged my hopeless romantic ass on a one-way skydive to pain. and that’s without a parachute. it was more of a free fall, really.

and i’d most definitely do it again.

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( ♬ ) WRAPPED TOGETHER — by @lemonjoonah

!! namjoon x reader | 18k !!

christmas!au, romance, drama, smut (18+).

you know those people who don’t listen to christmas music during the rest of the year because they swear it brings bad luck? well, they must hate me, ‘cause i’ll happily stream michael bublé’s christmas album in august if i have to. probably explains my bad luck too. great.

my point is, whenever you may be reading this post, whether it’s rainy october or sunny july, this fic is worth all the so-called bad luck.

it’s got the christmas spirit. the jolly music, the beautiful lights, the festive mood. and it’s got namjoon. it’s got namjoon, people! if that’s not tying the knot, then i don’t know what is.

in all seriousness though, i religiously come back to this fic whenever the holidays hit and the radios all over the uk start charting mariah carey and wham!. and it’ll cure any holiday blues.

@lemonjoonah may yet pop up again in this series. their work is definitely worth the time and read(ing?).

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( ✎ ) HERE COMES THE BRIDE, ALL DRESSED IN PRIDE — by @hansolmates

!! jungkook x reader | 17.3k !!

fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating.

“boy, i, boy, i, boy, i know, i know you got the feels.” the feels, twice. literally the first song that came to mind when i finished this fic. and twice never lie.

unpopular opinion (i think?), i’m a sucker for when y/n is petty in fanfics. i love a good revenge story, especially when it’s rightfully deserved, pristinely plated and justly served. you know, all classy like. and this had all that in the bag.

the relationship in this fanfic was so respectful and i loved that. they considered each other’s feelings towards what they were getting into, so that gets a gold star for communication and consideration from me. yass healthy relationship!

shakespeare cannot relate. hence why he’s tagged under ‘hasn’t moved in a while.’ he’s flabbergasted such things exist. since he killed one of the parties in the only healthy relationship he ever wrote. like, bro?

an amazing story yet again from @hansolmates if you’re in need of that satisfaction. (not like that you pervs. i meant revenge).

© marknee, 2023. all rights reserved.

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#shakespeare series #bts #bts series #bts x reader #bts fic recs #fic rec #kpop #bts smut #bts angst #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook #namjoon au #taehyung #seokjin fic #hoseok #jimin #yoongi #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[mango-bango-bby]

How about 🦢 for the event with sun!Gojo and moon!darling? There are lots of ideas I have for this but maybe Sun! Gojo has been in love with the moon for forever but he’s quite sad that he can only see them from far away. He’s able to get close enough to give them affection during an eclipse or he kidnaps them just for a little and that’s why theres eclipses? Both ideas are interesting but idk how much sense they make tbh 😅

Thank you mango! And congrats on 7k!!!-🌻

♡ The Sun and The Moon ♡

(A/N: Oh my gosh, from the moment I read this it immediately reminded me of Zhinü and Niulang. It was just the idea of them being separated, so far from each other. I hope you like this, I don’t really think it turned out to well lol. I kind of rushed it)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, kidnapping, sort of god au, angst

Summary: You and Gojo are separated by the sky yet Gojo can’t help but take you for himself (Yan!Gojo x GN!reader)

Prompt List ➸ ♡

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The sun and the moon. Two direct opposites, dark and light. You and Gojo sat on opposite sides of the sky. You were the moon. You were calm, quiet, beautiful.

Despite your calm almost shy attitude you were still sweet and kind. Gojo say on the opposite side of the sky as you, he was the sun. He was bright, cheerful, and completely in love with you.

You and Gojo only saw each other on a very rare occasion. You two only met on eclipses. And for the rest of the time, he only watched you. He watched you from afar. He watched you as you lived your life in your secluded home, on your secluded cloud.

He wanted you to be his so bad, Gojo would count down the days to the best eclipse. He wanted you to be his. Even if there wouldn’t have a moon anymore, it wouldn’t matter to him, he needed to take you to be his. His want for you overpowered anything else.

He knew the next time that your cloud would come by, during the eclipse. He was going to grab you, he was going to keep you with him. He was going to finally hold you.

No matter how much you cried or screamed, wanting to go back to your side of the sky. He’d never let you, he would hold you in his arms, he would hold as tight as he could.

He knew that you would hate him, however no matter how much you hate him or no matter how hard you cry. He would hold you tighter until you accepted him. Until you accepted his love.

That exactly what he did, the next eclipse, when you came by, it didn’t matter what happened. Or what it affected. He needed you to be his. He grabbed your arms, pulling you from your home and with him.

No matter what you said or how you fought back, he held onto you. He held you in his arms, with your head pressed against his chest as if he were silencing you. You kicked and scratched but it didn’t help.

You screamed, trying to escape his arms however he only cooed and whispered to you to calm down. This kept up for hours, he can only imagine how stressed you are right now, but he needs you to calm down.

After hours of the kicking, the screaming, the crying you finally gave up. You finally slumped over, exhausted from fighting for so long. You silently cried, holding onto his arms as if craving the comfort despite the fact that he had stolen you fro your home.

Gojo gently kisses you on your forehead, his heart breaking at how you cry silently. However he knows you’ll be happy to be loved by him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

#yandere jjk #soft yandere #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere!gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru #yandere!satoru #yandere satoru x reader

[labellefleur-sauvage]

Musc Ravageur

After obtaining an alluring perfume from a local vendor, Cassian and Nesta find themselves under a strange spell and unable to control their lust for each other.

(A sex pollen fic inspired by and for an SJM Kink Meme prompt and for Nessian Week 2023)

Happy Nessian Week! This smutty one shot is for @nessianweek Day 7 (Free day). Thank you so much to the organizers for running an amazing event!

This fic was inspired by an @sjmkinkmeme prompt on their spreadsheet for a Nessian sex pollen prompt. I've been wanting to do a sex pollen fic for a while and this prompt was the perfect inspiration!

Rating: Very Explicit. Please see the AO3 link for tags/warnings.

Word Count: 7K

Read on A03

Cassian adjusts his clothing and looks himself over in the mirror, feeling oddly nervous. He has no reason to be, the sensible voice in his head tells him. Nesta is his mate, and loves every gift, big and small, he’s gotten her in the past few months since they were mated.

But he still doesn’t have the best record with Winter Solstice gifts for Nesta, so he thinks the nerves are justified.

He glances over at the intricate perfume bottle on his nightstand. Nesta had never really shown a liking or affinity to fragrances. Cassian thinks her own scent—iron, smoke, and sheer willpower—is already perfect and there’s no reason to try to cover it up with anything else.

The old fae female hawking her wares in the Palace of Thread and Jewels was persuasive, though. Like a familiar friend was coaxing him along, Cassian walked up to the fae’s stall. Grinning slyly, like she had been expecting him, the half-concealed female took one look at him and thrust an ornate glass bottle with a mesmerizing, swirling liquid inside into his hands.

“For your true love,” she said in a whisper, eyes bright. “Guaranteed to make them wild with love.”

Nesta didn’t need that—they had spent the past month showing each other how wild with love they both were with each other after they had accepted the mating bond. Cassian took a slight whiff of the bottle. The perfume had an indescribable scent, like nothing he’d ever smelled before, and just that small sniff lay heavy in his nostrils. It was cloying and thick and heady and Cassian needed more, and before he knew it, he laid a finger on the top to spray an even more generous spritz—

“None of that, now.” The old fae’s worn hands darted out and grabbed the enchanting scent from his hands. Cassian shook his head, unsure of what had just come over him. “Save it for when you’re alone with your true love. It’ll be much more…appreciated then.”

Cassian didn’t remember tossing the money for the perfume to the woman, nor did he remember taking the perfume in its elegant box home and storing it away for a special occasion. And what could be more special than the annual Winter Solstice celebration with his family at Rhys’s house.

He grins and adjusts his vest. It’s little Nyx’s first Solstice, and Feyre’s birthday as well. His friend and High Lord seems to understand the importance of this year’s festivities, based on the extra energy and smiles he had been throwing around all week.

Satisfied with his appearance, Cassian takes the perfume from the desk and steals one last smell. Like before, the intoxicating aroma lingers in his nose and travels throughout his body, despite the fact that he hasn’t even sprayed any on himself. He had almost forgotten the perfume entirely before a niggling thought in the back of his mind reminded him of his purchase. He’ll spray some on Nesta soon, though, and the thought has his cock twitching in his trousers.

Cassian hustles out of their room. If Nesta isn’t in their room getting ready, there’s only one place she could be. Throwing open the doors of the library, Cassian stares at the vision that is his mate.

Nesta reclines on a reading couch, looking as elegant and proud as a queen surrounded by her adoring people. Fitting, Cassian thinks wryly: her beloved books are her subjects, and he is her loyal supplicant and advisor. Nesta’s hair is up in a simple braided bun, a few wisps of hair framing her long face. Her dress is a floor length smoky blue silk dress, with a deep ‘V’ that shows off her breasts and an equally deep leg slit that displays nearly the entire length of her strong, shapely legs. Just a glimpse of her smooth skin and muscles makes Cassian wish, just for a moment, that they didn’t have to go anywhere tonight, that he could spend the evening peeling Nesta’s dress off, trailing his lips along her petal soft skin higher and higher and higher—

“If you keep looking at me like that, we’ll never make it to Feyre’s.”

Cassian grins at his imperious mate, at her cocked eyebrow and knowing smirk. “You’re definitely making me double-think our family tradition, dressed like that.”

Nesta stands up—Cassian has to stifle a moan at the glimpse of flesh that’s revealed along Nesta’s leg and hip when she stands—and walks over to him, her heels thudding against the carpeted floor of the library. “Shouldn’t the sight of me dressed like this make you lose all thoughts and ideas from that gorgeous head of yours?”

He grins down at Nesta and places a soft kiss against her lips. “Of course, mate. How right you are.”

“And don’t forget it.”

Cassian chuckles. “You really do look amazing, Nes.”

His mate smiles fondly up at him and lays a hand on his shoulder, and not for the first time when it concerns his mate, Cassian forgets how to breath. “And you don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Do I look better than you?”

Nesta snorts and runs her hands down his jacket, straightening it out. “You know the answer to that. What’s this?”

“Oh!” Somehow, in the span of two minutes, Cassian had already forgotten the perfume. Digging in his suit jacket, he pulls out the delicate glass bottle. “I was in the market earlier and found this perfume. I know you don’t typically wear anything but it reminded me of you.”

Nesta smiles up at him. “That’s so sweet.”

“And the woman selling it said it would make my true love wild with passion, or something.”

“Yes, because we don’t regularly show each other how passionate we are for each other, hm?” Nesta asks sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. 

“Exactly. I know I’m already perfect—“

“Who told you that?”

“—but I figured another gift for my beautiful mate couldn't go amiss. Want me to spray you?”

Nesta takes the swirling perfume from his hand and takes a few steps back. “You can sometimes be a little heavy-handed with your cologne. I’ll spray it myself.”

“I do not spray that much cologne.”

Nesta inspects the bottle and the contents within. “Oh, yes you do. I shouldn’t be able to smell the Illryian mountains after you’ve been back for half a day and have bathed.” She opens the cap and takes a small sniff from the bottle. Immediately, Nesta’s gray eyes dilate and Cassian swears he hears her heart rate increase. “Oh!”

“Right? That was my reaction too.”

“It smells… I can’t describe it. Like pure sex.”

Cassian chokes on his breath because fuck, if that isn’t the perfect description. “I didn’t think—“

Without another word, Nesta douses herself with the perfume, along her arms, torso and the hollow of her throat. A beat passes, then Cassian watches, entranced, as his mate seems to transform before his eyes: her eyes close and she body shudders then relaxes, her heart beats even faster, Cassian swears he hears Nesta whimper, and the all too familiar scent of Nesta’s arousal slams into him like a fist to his face. 

“Nes—“

“Oh Cassian,” Nesta coos in a sultry voice he has never heard before. Her eyes are half lidded as she prowls towards him with an easy, confident stride. “Let's leave the thinking to me from now on.”

“Fuck Nesta.” Cassian isn’t sure if it’s the perfume or Nesta’s arousal he’s smelling, but his cock is hard in his pants and twitching against his leg.

“Yes, exactly, fuck me,” Nesta growls. Suddenly Nesta is in front of him and grabbing his jacket to bring him down to her and she’s kissing him, all fierce tongue and teeth and lips. Her hands roam over his torso and the back of head cementing him to her as she continues kissing him like her life depends on it.

Cassian grips his mate’s heaving shoulders and pushes her away from him, the scents of her arousal and the perfume making him dizzy. “Nesta, what’s gotten into you?”

“Hopefully your giant cock soon.”

“Nes,” Cassian growls, in equal parts frustration and arousal. 

“I need you,” Nesta pants, squirming in his grip. “I don’t know what—what’s happening but I need you right now, or, or…”

“Or what?” Cassian breathes through his mouth, trying to keep a level head through Nesta’s sudden madness.

“I feel like I’m burning everywhere, and I need you! In me, fucking me! Please!”

Cassian takes a moment to observe his mate. Her cheeks are flush and her breath is leaving her open mouth in great gasps. Nesta’s gray eyes look blurry—whether that’s from whatever madness has suddenly overcome her or the sudden tears gathering in the corners of her wide eyes, he isn’t sure. “This makes no sense,” he grits out. “You’re not well. You need a healer.”

“No!” With a speed that leave even him blindsided, Nesta sprays the perfume in his face and along his body, encasing him in a shroud of the tantalizing vapor. 

Cassian coughs and bats his hands through the mist. “Fuck, Nesta…” The perfume burns his throat and mouth as it travels down into his stomach then branches out into his body and permeates his skin and organs and bones, hotter and hotter. It’s as if something within him is changing, the shock of the perfume altering his very essence, turning him into a beast with only one thought, mine, mine, claim her—

And then, everything is quiet and calm. He blinks. Why is Cassian so concerned about Nesta? She’s fine, just as he is, and currently rubbing her body against his like a cat in heat. Nesta needs to be fucked, and Cassian needs to fuck her, right now—why was he fighting her earlier?

“You feel it too,” Nesta croons, softly cradling his jaw. Her eyes are huge and glazed, and Cassian can see his own dilated eyes in her reflection. “The burning, the need… you feel it too. I can see it.”

The inferno that raged through his body earlier has faded, and the heat is now simmering just below his skin. His ears are ringing, the sound getting louder and louder, and his skin feels itchy, but then Nesta grips his jaw to force him to look at her, and nothing else matters but the delectable female in front of him, a fire sparking within her eyes that he hasn’t seen since she gave up her powers.

“I need you. Now.”

Cassian doesn’t wait. Grabbing her dress, he tears it off her lithe body and is rewarded with a moan and a fresh gush of desire from his mate. He growls as Nesta claws off his clothes and he’s bare and stiff and proud before his wife. 

Nesta looks him up and down, a corner of her mouth tilted up. Her hand leisurely strokes his aching length. “Lay down on the ground so I can fuck you.”

Cassian growls. The urge, the hunger, within him demands to be sated, now, and the quickest way to do that is if Cassian gives them what they both need and bends her over the nearest piece of furniture to give his female the pounding of a lifetime. He opens his mouth to say as such when Nesta beats him to it.

“Get down on the damned floor right now before I go find some other way to get off,” Nesta snarls up at him, shoving his chest.

“You were just begging for my cock a moment ago, sweetheart,” Cassian crows back, a cruel grin on his mouth. The hunger he feels for Nesta is intense, but arguing with her temporarily sates that overwhelming desire. “You’re in no state to make demands of me.”

Nesta bares her teeth then ducks down. Before Cassian can track her, she kicks her leg out and sweeps his legs out from under him. He hits the floor hard and he feels a shot of pride for Nesta—his fierce Valkyrie has come so far—before every thought flees his mind as Nesta faces away from him and lowers herself over his lap. Cassian groans. From here, he has an amazing view of Nesta’s pert ass and strong legs as she she squats over him, as she grips his cock and angles it up, as she notches the thick head of his length at her tight entrance. She’s so wet, he can feel her juices already rolling down his straining shaft. 

He shifts below her. The aching desire has come back in full force and he needs relief, needs Nesta, now. Cassian’s hands dig into the plush rug beneath them. “Gods, Nesta, move.”

Nesta glances behind her to look at Cassian, an eyebrow cocked. Her body is already shining with sweat and she’s breathing hard, but he’s never seen a more beautiful and divine being in his life.

“You’re in no state to make demands of me,” she parrots back at him. But Nesta is a generous god; she slams onto his cock, taking him to the hilt in one and bringing them both instant relief. They groan in unison. Normally, Cassian has to take his time easing into her tight cunt, to make sure he doesn’t hurt her. 

Nesta doesn’t need any niceties tonight. She bounces on his cock, her strong legs moving her up and down, up and down, his cock. Cassian hears her panting softly above him as she braces a hand on his leg for leverage. Her other hand disappears between her legs—he feels her fingers occasionally grazing his shaft—and after only a few seconds, Nesta comes. Her walls squeeze his length and she softly moans as she comes down from her high.

Cassian looks on through bleary eyes. Nesta never comes that quickly or easily, preferring to gradually build towards a release with him. But that doesn’t matter, he decides. He’s warm and buzzing and jealous that Nesta has come already and he hasn’t. The burning beast within him rears its head again, and this time, it won’t stop until it’s satisfied.

“Are you only interested in getting yourself off?”

Without wasting a beat, Nesta shifts herself so she’s on her knees above him, still facing his legs, and leisurely rocks back and forth over his cock. Cassian bites his lip. From this angle, he has a perfect view of his thick cock splitting her glistening pink lips open, her folds spread obscenely around him. 

“You’ll come when I decide you can come,” she replies loftily, not deigning to look back at him and still taking her time and rocking above him. 

Cassian is done playing. Gripping her hips, he thrusts up into Nesta’s tight heat as she lowers herself onto him. She gasps and her cunt tightens around his length. 

From there, it’s a hot, sweaty battle for dominance between the two of them. They’re each racing for the same goal, he realizes, but Cassian refuses to lay back and let Nesta fully dictate when they finish. His hands are a brand on her hips and ass as he moves her up and down his throbbing length, and Nesta keeps riding him, going faster and faster and harder, her legs shaking with the effort. His cock is soaked with her juices, the sound of their flesh meeting wet. 

They’re both breathing hard. Nesta whines, a soft, keening noise from the back of her throat, and Cassian knows she’s close, that they’re both in the final leg of the race towards release. He’s burning from within and he needs to come, more than he’s ever needed anything in his life, and he needs Nesta to come with him. Blindly reaching between her legs, Cassian swipes a few fumbling fingers through the top of her folds. 

Nesta’s orgasm triggers his. As she moans his name, Cassian thrusts into her one final time and come inside her with a roar that shakes the windows. He’s coming, and coming, and coming, thick, endless ropes within Nesta’s welcoming cunt, more than he’s ever come before. Cassian’s continuing release fuels Nesta’s, and it’s a delicious feedback of their ongoing orgasms triggering the other. 

When it finally ends sometime later—Cassian isn’t sure when—they’re both sweating and quiet. His cum leaks out of Nesta’s cunt around his somewhat softened cock. The burning beast within him is sated for the moment.

Nesta twists over her shoulder to look at him, still seated atop him. “I hope you’re not too tired after that,” she purrs, and Cassian lets his head hit the floor. 

XXX

Time has lost all meaning to Nesta.

Perhaps it has been an hour, two hours, a day, or even a week. All she knows is the feel of her mate’s thick and heavy cock in her mouth.

Nesta takes Cassian’s length fully down her throat, the short hairs at the juncture of his thighs tickling her nose. She breathes through her nose and relaxes her tongue and jaw. Above her, he makes the most decadent noises.

“So good Nesta, taking my fat cock in that perfect mouth of yours,” he praises her quietly, and Nesta practically comes right then and there, just from the feel of his smooth shaft along her tongue and his honeyed words.

She desperately wants to reach a hand between her thighs and rub a finger over her clit or, even better, thrust her fingers inside herself and pump. Nesta doesn’t. There’s a sort of delicious agony in denying herself what she wants now, knowing what’s coming later will be worth the wait, like saving a piece of rich cake for after dinner at the end of a long day, knowing the reward would be appreciated all the better for waiting.

And wait she has. Nesta doesn’t know how much time has passed since a dreamlike fog, thick and heavy on her limbs like the morning mist, suddenly settled over her mind and body. It didn’t start out that way—she vaguely remembers a scorching sensation tearing through her body as a wild, feral need emerged from somewhere within her and demanded her mate. 

It isn’t completely unlike those wretched years after she was Made and turned to drinking and sex to attempt to feel anything in her life. Except now, though, she has Cassian next to her. She’ll never be wanting for anything again, as long as she has him, her mate, her equal, by her side.

Nesta feels one of Cassian’s hands slowly thread itself through her ruined hair. With a sudden tightening of his grip, his hand wrenches her hair and pulls her down further onto his cock. Nesta gags, tears collecting at the corners of her eyes. “Something distracting you, sweetheart?” he taunts with a mocking sweetness, a corner of his mouth twitching up.

Her equal, indeed. Any other time, Nesta would have whipped herself off of Cassian’s dick and asked the House to deliver whatever type of punishment she thought he’d deserve. Now, though, with a cloud of lust making her dizzy, all Nesta could do is whimper around his length at the dominance in his tone and words. 

That dominance wasn’t exactly his idea, however. After Nesta had ridden him on the floor of the library like a warrior charging into battle, Cassian had dragged them to the couch and brought her close to his chest, a touching act of sweetness and normalcy at complete odds to what they had just done to each other. 

She couldn’t stand it, though. The buzzing beneath her skin branched out into her blood and veins and lungs and heart the longer she sat still without her mate’s cock in her in some way. Nesta had clambered out of his lap and kneeled between Cassian’s thick thighs, pumped his still half-hard shaft twice, then took him in her mouth.

The first time she made him come with her mouth and hands was quick, just a few minutes of her tongue working his sensitive tip and her hand squeezing and stroking what she didn’t have in her mouth. He had come with a hoarse cry, his hands digging into the couch cushions, thighs spread wide. His salty come coated Nesta’s tongue and rushed down her throat, her gaze content and proud at making her mate feel such pleasure. Cassian was still hard—somehow—beneath her, and a final splash of come landed on her lips as she detached herself from his shaft with a soft pop. 

His eyes were still bleary, like hers, like he too wasn’t quite sure what was happening. But also like Nesta, the continuous ache and need to continue fucking and coming was too great. It was tinged with a sense that something was wrong, but neither could concentrate long enough to voice and actually think on their concerns. 

Without missing a beat, Nesta had licked Cassian’s come off her lips, then took his cock back inside her mouth and started it all again.

Now, Cassian’s hand on the back of her head forcibly guiding her up and down his cock feels like a fixture, like Nesta is only complete with his hand in her hair and his cock down her throat. He moans when she drags her nails down the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

“Trying to mark me up, mate? Leave bruises on my legs, like I’m going to leave bruises on that pretty neck of yours later?”

Nesta whimpers around his cock, wetness rolling down her cheeks when he thrusts his cock into her raw throat, and wetness rolling down her legs at everything happening to her right now. The sound of Nesta’s gagging and whimpers fill the room. She braces her hands on Cassian’s knees as she lets him fuck her throat, his hands tangled in her hair as he grunts and moans above her, all while Nesta stares adoringly at her mate. She’s close, and the haze within her thickens, and everything is jumbled—

Her world shifts and suddenly Nesta is on her back on the rug, and Cassian’s thick cock is entering her slick cunt in one brutal thrust. Lightning races up her spine as she comes suddenly, almost violently, her body shaking and her release coating her mate’s cock and thighs. Her inner muscles squeeze so hard she forces Cassian’s length from her body and she writhes on the ground. She has experienced mind numbing pleasure at the hands of her mate many times before tonight, but the release she experiences now is unlike anything she’s ever felt. Nesta vaguely hears Cassian cursing quietly to himself but Nesta is too far gone to recognize what he’s saying.

She receives no reprise. Still on her back with Cassian kneeling between her spread, trembling thighs, he thrusts into her still quivering pussy and resumes his brutal pace. “So good, Nesta,” Cassian purrs, his eyes hazy and delirious with pleasure. “So good of you to soak me like that. Did sucking my cock make you that needy?”

Nesta whimpers, too stricken with lust and already needing more even after the most intense orgasm of her life had been ripped through her body. This couldn’t be natural, what was happening to them…

But then Cassian slowly wraps a large hand around her throat, and all thoughts leave Nesta’s brain. She’s with her mate whom she loves more than anyone else in the world—what could be unnatural or wrong with what was happening to them?

“I asked you a question: did sucking my cock make you so needy that you squirted the second I started fucking you?”

His hand wasn’t too tight around her throat that she couldn’t answer. “Yes,” Nesta gasps, the feeling of his hand around her and cock within her already working her towards another orgasm. She grips the back of her thighs to widen herself even better for her mate, and Cassian moans appreciatively, looking down between her legs to watch himself pound into her red, swollen folds.

Cassian’s hand tightens around her throat as his breathing quickens and his thrusts get harder and sloppier. She feels herself leaking onto the rug, and knows her scent will be entwined in this room, just like it’s already entwined with the male above her. All Nesta can do is grip the back of her thighs to keep herself spread for him as she whimpers and urges him on, dark spots forming at the edges of her hazy vision. Her heartbeat thrums just under her skin. “Please, please, please…”

“Be a good mate and come,” Cassian snarls, releasing her throat to slap between her legs. He hits her clit and Nesta launches to the stars, like one of the many flying celestial bodies on Starfall. 

Eventually, she falls back to the planet, and Cassian is with her. She feels his spend trickle between her legs, and glances down to see him aim the last of the come on her lower stomach. Their breathing gradually slows. Nesta lightly touches her neck and knows from the slight ache already forming that she’ll have a bruised necklace in the exact shape of Cassian’s hand adorning her throat in the morning.

But all thoughts of later are far away in her mind. All Nesta focuses on is the feel of Cassian’s sweaty, hard body above her, quieting the ache between her legs and hunger in her blood.

XXX

“Put your back into it and fuck me!”

Nesta snarls like a crazed beast at him, and she looks it too: there are red scratches already forming along her back, her hair is in complete disarray around her sweaty face, her teeth are bared and the fingers of her elegant hands are curved into claws that could tear a male’s throat out. 

And she’s all his.

Deciding the best way to shut his mate up is to make her speechless, Cassian grips her hips even harder than before and steps up with one leg on the now-creaking couch in the library. This way, he has better leverage to fuck into her as Nesta hangs onto the back of the furniture for dear life.

Cassian is pretty sure they’ve been at it for hours. He hasn’t seen the sun come up, and a rescue party hasn’t come looking for them, so he dimly assumes in the back of his mind that no one is missing them and it hasn’t been that long. It’s hard to keep track of time, however, when his entire world is now centered on fucking the female in front of him.

“Have I not been fucking you well up till now? Are you not covered in my sweat and come? You were just screaming my name a few minutes ago.”

“If you were actually up to the task of satisfying me, I wouldn’t have ever stopped,” Nesta snaps without looking back at him, her hips gently swaying in front of him to try to entice him, and dammit it, it works. Through the ever-present fog that settled over his eyes and body, Cassian sees a bit of red creep into the corner of his eyes at the suggestion that he can’t keep up with Nesta. Stroking his cock, he watches in a haze as he sees two of Nesta’s long fingers skim her soaking folds before they plunge within her soft cunt. 

Cassian watches, entranced, as Nesta pumps her fingers in and out of her pussy. It’s an awkward angle for her, and she isn’t able to fuck herself as deep as he knows she wants to. She hangs her head down and moans, her hips moving in time with her thrusts, before Cassian remembers her earlier dare: put your back into it and fuck me.

He grabs the hand fingering herself and wrenches it out of her cunt before landing two hard, quick slaps to each of her rosy ass cheeks. Her ass bounces with the motion and Nesta moans in delight, and her ass keeps jiggling as Cassian thrusts inside her to the hilt with one savage push and he starts fucking her.

Just like every other time they’d fucked this night—day? Week?—Nesta takes it, takes him, so perfectly, not needing time to adjust to his length and girth. Cassian isn’t sure he’s ever been with a female that’s been as wet as Nesta is tonight, since he can’t remember anything from more than a few hours ago, but he doesn’t think submerging a partner in the Sidra would get them as wet as Nesta is now.

Cassian grips her hips, putting all of his strength and muscles into fucking Nesta harder than he’s ever fucked her before. She moans into the fabric of the couch, and he’s pretty sure she’s biting the couch to stifle her noises. 

He grabs her hair and pulls, making her back arch. “Come on, Nes. Let me hear it. Tell everyone who’s fucking you so well.”

“Cas—Cassian,” she whimpers. The wet slapping of their flesh meeting nearly drowns out her words. Cassian smacks her ass again. “Louder.”

“Cassian!” Nesta shrieks, and he can’t keep the grin off his face.

“I think… that’s enough of my back… don’t you agree?” Cassian can barely speak over how hard he’s moving into Nesta. The hand gripping her hip for dear life and the other hand in her hair keeps Nesta connected to him, and he’s thrusting so hard the couch is moving across the floor. He glances down and sees her ass bouncing against his hips and his cock, glistening with her wetness, shining in the low lamplight.

The beast that’s been lurking under his skin all night is rising to the forefront of his mind, demanding to be unleashed onto the female under him. Nothing else matters to Cassian but release—his and hers. His heart beats erratically in his chest. He needs to come now or he’ll die, he’s sure of it, and by the desperate whining leaving Nesta’s mouth, she feels the same aching need as well.

His hand gripping Nesta’s sweaty hair plunges between her legs and strokes her bundle of nerves punishingly, without any thought of kindness or care. Neither of them wants or needs that now, and when Nesta breaks and wails her release, his name on her lips, Cassian shatters with her. 

The beast within him purrs, content to rest until it needs to feed again.

XXX

Nesta isn’t sure how much more of this she can take. 

Logically, she realizes there’s no way she should still be conscious at this point. Between all the sweat and come that’s left her body, she should be a dehydrated husk that’s been left out in the sun too long. Even after she managed to hoarsely ask the House for some water—it had dumped a huge carafe of ice cold water with two glasses on the only unbroken table remaining, along with meat, cheese, crackers, and an entire chocolate cake—she still feels thirsty and empty and needy. Things are becoming clearer to her—she remembers there was something odd about that perfume Cassian got her—but her skin is still too tight on her body and she’s just uncomfortable.

Underneath her, Cassian is trying his best to bring her some relief. His tongue stiffens and grazes the side of her clit, and pleasure-pain lances through her body. 

“Why can’t you always be so sweet with your tongue like this, instead of giving me attitude all the time?” she asks fondly, staring down at him.

Between her thighs, Cassian chuckles and hooks his arms over her legs, keeping her cunt on his face. He hadn’t wasted a moment after coming inside her to throw himself on the ground and tug her over his face. “To clean you up,” he’d said, which was perhaps one of the most thoughtful things he’d ever said to her. 

Cassian doesn’t seem to mind that he’s licking his own release along with hers. He also doesn’t seem to be in any rush to make her come, or to seek any pleasure for himself. His cock is half-hard against his thigh and twitches with every moan and shaky breath that leaves her lips, but he doesn’t make any effort to change their positions.

His tongue swirls around her entrance before it plunges inside her. “Fuck,” Nesta sighs, carding a hand through his thick hair and gently moving her hips over his lips. “You feel so good.” Cassian stills, letting her ride his face as she chases her orgasm and quivers above him. 

Nesta falls forward, bracing her hands on the floor as she comes down from her high. She tries to swing off Cassian’s head but he only tightens his strong arms around her legs. 

“Again,” he commands from below, his voice muffled. He doesn’t give her any other option; his tongue strokes her clit in broad laps as Nesta grits her teeth.

Now it’s a bit too much pain and not enough pleasure. “I can’t,” Nesta says, fighting to upend herself from his grip, tears burning the corners of her eyes. “It’s too much.”

"You will come again on my tongue,” he shoots back forcefully, like he’s willing his statement into reality. “Touch yourself.”

Nesta groans, in frustration and because of what his lips are doing between her thighs, before she gives in and pinches her nipples. She leans back, seating herself fully on her mate’s face, and Cassian hums in approval.

His tongue dances over her folds as he slips a single thick finger inside her. Nesta hisses, squeezing her breasts. Despite her body being more accommodating than ever before when it comes to Cassian’s cock, her channel finally feels a twinge of tenderness at the intrusion. He’s gentle, though, barely thrusting inside her and letting her own rocking hips dictate how much of himself she takes within her. 

Whatever strange fervor that had taken hold inside her isn’t ready to be done yet, though. She finds release again on Cassian’s face and feels empty. “One… one more time,” she gasps weakly, crawling off him and laying down on the floor on her side. 

She hears Cassian shuffling behind her, then feels the floor reverberate as he thumps down on his side behind her. Dragging her top leg over his hip and positioning an arm underneath her head, Cassian turns her head towards him. 

His face is shining with her come, and it’s one of the most erotic things she’s ever seen in her life. It’s a sign that he’s happy to pleasure her, and also proud to have her mark him, to bear her scent proudly. Nesta tugs her mate to her lips by the back of his neck at the same time his hard cock enters her. 

They groan into each other’s mouths. Finally, it seems neither of them have the desperate, insatiable need to reach their release as soon as possible. Nesta’s eyes and body feels heavy and tired but she feels more like herself than before. Based on the bleary look Cassian gives her as he rocks in between her legs, she thinks whatever strange delusion that overcame her earlier is leaving his body as well.

Nesta relaxes in Cassian’s arms. He’s warm behind her, a reassuring presence. Cassian buries his face in the back of her neck as his hips speed up, pushing himself into her fully on each thrust. The sound of their bodies meeting is dirty and wet and filthy, yet she feels more connected with her mate now after what they just experienced.

Cassian breaks Nesta from her loving haze by pumping all of his cock inside her and grinding against her, hitting a sensitive spot he rarely manages to find. Stars erupt in Nesta’s eyes as equal parts pleasure and pain lights up her body.

“Fuck, Nes, you’re perfect,” Cassian mutters into her neck. He’s thrusting and grinding against her pussy as his fingers brush her folds. “So lucky—love you so much—mine, mine—“

“Yours,” she gasps, twisting to pull his face back to hers, her lips hurriedly brushing against his. “And you’re mine.”

“Yes, always,” he groans, screwing his eyes shut. He’s pounding into her with abandon, his fingers circling her clit. “Fuck, come with me.”

With a sob, Nesta comes. Cassian finishes soon after, shooting his release deep within her body. For several minutes they’re silent, each shaking with exhaustion.

The sun is peeking out from the bottom of the library’s windows when Nesta raises her head. When she finally comes again sometime later, the fog that had been hanging over and inside her finally dissipates, leaving her sluggish. The all-consuming need from that damned perfume is finally gone from her weak body, its scent no longer blanketing her skin. She crawls on shaking legs and arms to the water jug and hauls it over to Cassian, still laying on the floor.

“I know we just got done having sex—“

“Please don’t say you’re still feeling… whatever we just experienced,” Nesta interrupts tiredly, wiping her mouth after drinking from the carafe.

“No, no, I think I’m fine,” Cassian says, accepting the water from Nesta. “I was going to say, I know we just finished fucking like animals, but the sight of you crawling with my come running down your leg would normally be enough for me to go again.”

“And now?” Nesta asks, laying down on the floor, her head on Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian takes a long drink. “Now, I think we went at it so much I’m afraid to even look at you. My cock needs a break.”

“Just your cock? That seemed to be an entire body workout.”

“And you weren’t complaining.”

Nesta hums and closes her eyes, feeling Cassian’s steady heart beat under her head. They’re silent for some time until Cassian speaks.

“What happened to us?”

“It was that perfume you got me,” Nesta spats. “I felt fine until I smelled it. It must have been drugged to act as an aphrodisiac.”

“The female I bought it from did say it would make my true love wild. I didn’t think it would be like that,” Cassian winces. 

Nesta narrows her eyes and looks at Cassian. “Who did you buy it from again? When I can manage to stand and take a bath, I’m going to pay a visit to the Palace of Thread and Jewels with that cursed perfume and put my Valkyrie training to good use. I’m going to smash the bottle at her feet—“

“No need to be so hasty,” Cassian says, squeezing her. “I wouldn’t mind keeping it around, for special occasions.”

Nesta stares at him incredulously. “You’re mad.”

“Mad with how much I love you.”

“Just shut up and kiss me and be quiet,” Nesta sighs, and Cassian laughs and obliges his mate. 

XXX

Rhys glances out of the River House’s window into the dark night above. It had snowed earlier, and he can still make out the three spread outlines pressed into the fluffy snow, one much smaller than the other two. It had been a perfect Winter Solstice with Feyre and Nyx, and now Rhys gets to enjoy the evening with his small family as well.

Was it wrong of him to ask a local vendor to sell some enchanted perfume to all his friends, guaranteed to drive them uncontrollably mad with lust? Perhaps. Did Rhys also have to sneak inside his friends’s minds to ensure they actually used the perfume, to make sure his small family was alone tonight? Maybe. 

But it was Feyre’s birthday, and Nyx’s first Solstice. After everything he and Feyre had been through this year, all Rhys wanted was to spend their first Solstice as a family together, alone, just the three of them. 

He loves his family, truly. But sometimes Mor and Cassian can get a little loud, and Elain and Lucien get a little too affectionate in public, and Amren mutters offhand remarks under her breath, and Azriel broods in the corner, despite Gwyn being all smiles around the room. It all just seemed too much this year, after the fucking horrendous year they’d had. A quiet day with his mate and their son was the only way Rhys wanted to spend the day.

“I wonder what happened to everyone,” Feyre says quietly, coming up to stand next to him at the window, Nyx in her arms. Their son had had a very busy day, between a delicious homemade breakfast, playing in the snow, unwrapping his new presents, and trying a bit of Feyre’s birthday cake, and he’s fighting to stay awake. “I hope they’re ok. Should we look in on—?”

“No!” Rhys interrupts, and Feyre and Nyx give him matching looks of surprise. “Uh, I’m sure they all had a long day and decided to spend time with their mates.”

Feyre gives him a long, searching look but doesn’t say anything. “Will you still have your annual snowball fight at the cabin in the morning?”

Rhys thinks of the perfume that Cassian and Az have, and how confident the fae was in her enchantment. “Actually, we all decided to postpone it this year, to spend more time with our mates and families.”

Feyre’s face lights up brighter than every star on Starfall combined, and Rhys would make the same decision to douse his friends and family in an aphrodisiac in a heartbeat, just to see his mate experience even a fraction of the happiness she’s feeling now. “That’s wonderful! Maybe the three of us can paint something together with those wonderful finger paints you got me.”

Nyx makes a happy, contented sigh from Feyre’s arms and Rhys smiles. The bond between him and Feyre glows strong and bright as the best Solstice Eve he’s ever had draws to a close. “I can’t wait.”

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #cassian x nesta #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my fics #my fic #surprise its just smut #what else is new #sorry if there are any weird tenses! #first time writing in present and i think i got everything #but it feels wrong #past tense for life

[georgiapeach30513]

Closer to Heaven and Closer to You, Part 10

Summary:  Frank confronts Ransom about you.

Pairings:  Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:   Explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, sex with a bit of an audience, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, sex in a pool, breeding kink, Frank Adler, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Ran,” you giggle, pushing Ransom away from you, but he pulls you back to his chest, nipping at your neck.  His hands drifting down your side, before cupping your ass.  “Ransom, your family is going to be here in just a minute.”

“I don’t even care,” he pants, but pulls back to look at you, “Buns, you look beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that because we’re going to pretend that we’re not in each other’s beds almost every night,” cupping your face, he brings you to him for the sweetest of kisses.  Peppering his lips all over your face.

“Mmm, they’re vultures,” he was so joyful as he brings your hips into him.  His hand runs down your side, and your skin begins to tingle with every inch he moves down your skin.  Ransom knew too well what he was doing to you, and knew even better how the two of you had decided to take things so slow.

Your eyes flit around his face before you slot your lips against his.  Hands going up underneath his sweater, and you scratch lightly on his back.  The two of you lost in the kisses of each other.  You couldn’t think of anything sweeter than just how pure Ransom could be.  The way you saw his confidence grow each passing day.  He deserved more than his parents and extended family had given him, and that’s precisely what you were going to do.

Leaning back onto the wall, Ransom lifts up one of your legs, placing it at his hip, while you whimper on his lips.  You didn’t know how long you could hold out anymore, or why either of you had continued to stop yourselves.  It wasn’t even a want as much of a need.  You needed him.  Needed to feel him pressing into your wet heat.  Needed to feel his cock throbbing in your core.  You needed all of him.

“Well, well, well,” Richard’s snake-y voice booms through the sitting room, and like children, you and Ransom pull apart from each other quickly.  This is not how you wanted any of his family to find out.

“Told you he was screwing the help.”

“Jacob, we don’t talk like that.”

“She’s not even the help, she’s Grandpa’s nurse.”

“I see what this is.  Weaseling your way into our family money using my son!”

Ransom pushes your body behind him, standing up proud and tall, he wouldn’t let them insult you, “That’s enough.  She’s not…we’re dating.  This is my girlfriend.”

“Kind of convenient, don’t cha think?  Good looking man, lots of money, a wealthy family.”

“I’m not after Ransom’s money.  I…Ransom, I…” your voice gets lost, and you hide your face in his back.  His family came with him, and he was worth it.  He was worth this.

“I told you.  I told you she was here just to swindle our money.”

“I don’t want your goddamn money.  I came from money, too!” Your voice screeches, as you stomp away from them.  Even though you hear Ransome protest, and call out your name, you need to get away from those disgusting people, and go into the only other room that makes you feel comfortable; Ransom’s office.

“What is your problem?” Ransom glares at each and every single one of his family members.  “You don’t get to come here treating people like that.  And definitely not her.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t fall for some slut that is here only to…”

“She’s not some slut!”

“Then why are you fucking her?”

“I’m not!  We are dating, and we are taking things slow.  I didn’t tell any of you because look how you act.  This is my life, and it’s mine and her relationship.  None of you are included.  Not even the alt right asshole who likes spying on us.  Yeah.  We’ve been together awhile.  I didn’t need you lot to poison our relationship.  I love her!  And there’s nothing you can say or do to make me change my mind.  Now, if you would excuse me, I’m going to find my girlfriend.”

Ransom stomps through the estate and straight to his office.  If you weren’t with Harlan, it’s where you always were.  Like this unspoken way to find you.  Slinging open the door, he sees you look up at him through your lashes with a strained smile.  “Buns, I’m…” turning around, you push all his papers and things into the floor.  Smiling when they make a loud raucous, and you hope his family enjoys the show.  “Bunny, no.”

“Ransom, I love spending time with you, and I want this.”

“Why?  Tell me why because we don’t owe them anything.”

Turning back to look at him, you go underneath your dress to take off your panties, letting them fall to the floor before you step out of them.  Lifting up your dress you lean back on his desk and spread your legs slowly.  Making sure he sees your weeping cunt, and just how ready you were, “I don’t care what they or anyone else says, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, I love you.  I know what being in love is now because I’m so in love with you that it hurts not having this part of you.”

Ransom had never heard anything so beautiful in his life.  No one, to his knowledge, had ever said that to him.  No one had ever made him feel the way that he did.  “I’m in love with you.”

“I didn’t say that to force you into telling me.  I…”

“Bunny, I love you,” walking closer to you, he starts to undo his pants; there is too many clothes separating the two of you.  Your hands go under his sweater, and you pull it off.  Spinning you around, Ransom slowly undoes the zipper on your dress, letting it cascade to the floor, and he kicks it to the side before he places you back on the desk.  Removing your bra with one hand, “Wow.”

Holding his cock firmly in his hand, he smears his tip, leaking of precum, through your folds, and you yip at the feeling.  Staring deeply into each other’s eyes when he slowly pushes through your tight channel.  Inching through your folds, and both of your forget to breathe.  

Legs spreading wider to accommodate his thick frame.  And just when you think you couldn’t take anymore, he pushes more into your warmth.  Not stopping until he bottoms out, and you gasp, clinging to his arms, needing his body to fully encapsulate yours.

Holding himself still while you get adjusted to his girth.  Smiling through your sweet sounds, and you start to lean back, feeling more comfortable when Ransom’s thumb starts to make tight circles on your bundle of nerves.  “You feel good, Ran,” you choke out.  “You feel amazing inside of me.”

“There’s not a day that will go by that I don’t want to be settled right here,” he taps along your stomach.  Showing you exactly where he was seated at.  

“I love you,” you repeat again.  You wanted him to feel all the love that you had for him.  “I love you, Ransom.”

“I love you,” is the last thing that Ransom is able to get out before he sets at a desperate pace.  The two of you had been aching for one another, and you finally had it.  Frustrated and pissed off at his family, but he was making sure you felt exactly how much he loved you.  How much that he had been craving you, but more than for sex.  The sex was the bonus.  

Your hand slams on the desk as you move to get more comfortable.  Ransom’s thrusts making the desk legs screech and move on the floor, “Yes!” You scream a bit too loud, but Ransom smiles anyway.  Your voice is horse already, and you just know you have to be making the most lewd moans.  Your pussy was definitely squelching throughout this office space.  Filling the small room with Ransom’s new favorite sound.

Ransom grunts as he rails into you, and you can not imagine a time that you had felt this good.  Your hands explore his body, grasping at his ass, and becoming addicted to his noises.  He was fully yours, and you were fully his.

“Well,” Linda clicks, hearing something else fall off the desk.  “I saw this coming the day that she walked through that door.”

“Right there, baby!” Your voice bounds down the hallway directly to his family.  “Yes!  Yes!  Ransom, right there!”

“At least they’re having fun,” Meg shrugs, and her entire family, sans Harlan, turns to glare at her.  “What?  You’ve been accusing the two of them of fucking for months.  Now you know that they are,” she snorts when you clearly was coming.  Otherworldly mewls muffled only by the sound of something slapping onto wood.  “At least he loves her,” Meg adds in when Ransom shouts that he loves you.

“And she’s using him.”

“You say that only because you’re not around them,” Harlan walks into the study.  “Sounds like it’s about on time.  Fran?  Will you have their dinner taken into Ransom’s office when the uh…noise dies down.  At least he has a couch and blankets in there.  Just leave it outside of the…door,” nobody could concentrate with how the two of you were carrying on.  

“That sounded like the bookshelf,” Walt groans, when random items bang onto the floor.

“So it does.  Let’s eat.  You wanted them to have sexual relations so bad Linda, looks like you finally got your wish.  And I would completely drop the subject all together.  Ransom is making preparations.  That woman will be your daughter in law, or you will have a very heartbroken son.  Take your pick.  Dinner.  I’m famished.”

“You’re going to allow this to happen in your house?” Richard points down the hallway, hearing the loud bang of Ransom throwing you up against the wall.  “This is too explicit for dinner.”

“Yeah, well, we can just ignore it, or you can leave.  You insulted her, you insulted your son, and their relationship.  I believe that this is a…”

“Oh fuck me!”

“Ahh,” Harlan’s mouth turns up into a wicked grin at Ransom’s outburst, “I was going to go with this is a fuck you, but I think your son answered for you.  Shall we eat, or is everyone’s stomach turned?”

“Jacob shouldn’t be hearing this,” Donna awkwardly laughs, touching her eyebrow, trying to fake embarrassment when in reality she was jealous of the pleasure you were clearly feeling..  “Wow…she’s vocal.”

“I heard them taking turns going down on each other last week.  He’s just as…vocal.  It’s nothing I haven’t heard.”

Meg cackles when your voice reaches a high pitch, and Ransom is moaning just as loud, “I think that was the grand finale.  Can we eat now?  I’m starving.”

“You can eat with that…noise?” Joanie whines, but Meg just shrugs.

“Judging by their labored breaths, and the noise stopping, they're finished.  I’m eating, Grandpa?  Oh, I don’t dislike her by the way.  Notice how Ransom isn’t such a prick?  I’m going to go with her being the reason,” she walks behind Harlan into the dining room, while the rest of the family wait for a moment.  Contemplating on what they were going to do before following suit.

Ransom carries you over to the couch, and drapes a blanket over both of your bodies, while the two of you gaze at one another.  The most beautiful post sex glow on both of your skin.  This wasn’t how you had imagined the first time with Ransom to be, but it was perfect.  Your relationship was now out in the open, and there was nothing that anyone could do about it.  

Your hand brushes his stray hairs out of your face, and you smile constantly at him.  “Ransom, I love you.  I wasn’t saying that in the heat of the moment.  I love you.  I now can honestly say that this is different.  This is something I have never felt before.”

Grabbing your hand off his face, he brings it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles, “I love you, too.  I guess…they all know.”

“Let them know.  I didn’t want to hide this anymore anyways.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair,” Ransom calls out, walking into the living after your parents.  “Please, don’t leave.  I stayed behind because…well, I um — I needed to talk to you.  There’s a reason, well, several reasons why your daughter and myself decided to visit.”

“You better not be telling me she’s pregnant,” pregnancy tests were brought, but none had been taken, so Ransom shakes his head no quickly.  “Shit, Faye, I think Ransom needs us to sit down, huh, son?”

“Yes, please,” he gulps, your father grabs your mother’s hand, leading everyone into the living room.  Upon sitting, Ransom just rubs his thighs up and down.  Eyes misting up because there were no words he could think that would ever compare to how he truly felt about you.  “I love your daughter.”

“So we’ve heard,” your mom smiles at Ransom, it was finally happening for you, and the right way.  “She loves you, too.  Doesn’t she, Ronnie?”

“Yeah, yeah.  My daughter has loved before.  Or so she thought.  What makes you different?”

“I don’t want to keep her from her family.  Harlan is my family, and he’s agreed as well.  I want her.  And if I want her I can’t stay in Boston.  I bought us some land on Sowers Road, and had a house built for us, and our future children, and my grandpa, his mom recently passed, and he will be moving here as well, and…”

“It’s a bit premature isn’t it?  Buying a house, and ready to move your grandfather out here.”

“Yes, but I want to marry her, and that’s why I need to ask you both for your blessing.  Bunny is traditional.  She loves the ceremony of things, and she would want me to ask you before I asked her.  I’ve got the ring, here,” Ransom opens the ring box, and slides it across the coffee table, and your mother grips at your dad’s hand.  “I love her more than anything else in this world.  I want a family with her, and I want her to have a perfect little farm, and — I just want her, and whatever comes with her.  Whatever that means.”

“You want kids?”

“Yes.  We both really want kids.”

“You got enough land for a ranch?”

“Yes, sir.  Her friend Bucky has been putting it together.  I don’t know anything about that life, but he does.  And he’s set everything up.  And he’s going to run everything, and I’m going to try and learn that life.”

“But you’re bringing my baby home to me?” Ransom nods at your father.  Your mother was ready to give her approval to Ransom the moment the three of them had walked into the living room.  “I’ll be honest with you, I really hated you.  She was ready to head back to Boston after two days here.  This is only the second time she’s come home, and according to her sister, you are the reason why because she couldn’t leave you.  You’ve got nothing in Boston?”

“Just her and Harlan.  And they’d both be living here.  Mr. Sinclair, I’ve never loved anyone.  Never respected anyone.  Never saw myself planning for the future until your daughter.  So if you could please give me your blessing.”

“You have it,” Faye pipes up, patting on her husband’s leg.  “He’s a hard ass.  We only had girls, and he raised them to take care of themselves.  But at the end of the day my baby wants to be a wife and mother, and take care of her ranch, and the ones she loves.  And you’re that person.”

Ransom leans around you, giving you the sweetest and most tender kisses on your shoulder.  Up in the highest part of the estate had become yours and his sanctuary.  Leaning forward with nothing but a blanket around your waist, you add a bit more blue paint to the canvas.  The sunlight beams into the small room that had become your favorite place to make love, and paint.  

“It’s beautiful, but not quite as much as you,” giggling, you turn your neck, and look at the most handsome man that you had ever met.  “Where is this at?”

“There’s this little area in Montana.  It’s off of Sowers Road, and they have this great tiny little mountain.  Up by itself.”

“Mmm, tell me about this place,” he says, spinning you around.  Even though you were both completely naked, glistening in sweat, and had nothing but a blanket, there was no urge to have sex again, you just were together.  “What did you do there?”

“Me and my sisters would sneak out of the house, and go there.  Lay on this mountain, and look at the land below.  Each of us dreaming up what we would do if the land was ours.  But mostly, we’d lay on our backs and look at the stars.  Waiting for a shooting star to make wish.”

“What was your wish?”

Looking down at his lips, you serenely smile, and lean forward to give him a chaste kiss, “You.”

Ransom rolls his eyes, chuckling, and pushing you back a bit, “Uh-uh, you didn’t even know I existed.  So what did you wish for?”

“I didn’t lie, Ran.  I wished that I would meet someone and fall so deeply in love, and that I would know that I couldn’t live my life without them.  I mean living there would be a dream.  I always felt like being there you were closer to the heavens.  And then I met you, and I realized it didn’t matter where heaven is, because I feel the closer I am to you the closer I am to heaven.  You know, we’ve never talked about our future.  Where do you see us?”

“Hopefully you with a baby in your belly, and a child in my arms,” shaking your head no, you lean forward to lay on his shoulder.  “You don’t want kids?”

“You don’t want them.”

“That’s utter horse shit.  Why would I not want a Bunny or Ransom junior?  Up until I met you, I thought I was destined to be a bachelor.  Boy, did that change.  So do you want kids?”

“Yeah.  I want a house full of kids.  Got their little boots on, not afraid to pet a horse or feed a cow.”

“Ahh, a farm?”

“A ranch, and a mini farm.  Have cute little corgis herding the kids more than the animals.”

“Corgis, huh?” He asks, pulling you in closer when you nod your head.  You wrap your arms around his, sighing when he pulls you into his lap.  “So we’re going to have these corgis that are chasing our kids around?”

“Yes,” Ransom could feel you smiling on his skin.  Feeling you smile was almost as invigorating as seeing it.  “Gucci.”

“Hmm?”

“I want our first corgi named Gucci.”

Ransom finally takes the blindfold off your face, and you look up at the house in shock.  It was beautiful, but it was in your spot.  “This…this is Sowers Road, isn’t?”

“It is.  What do you think of the house?”

“It’s perfect,” tears spring at your eyes because it really was perfect.  Even a pond in front of the house.  “There’s a lookout in the house,” it was like someone had gone on your Pinterest and built the house according to your dreams.  “There’s…Ran, there’s a little dock.  That’s almost exactly where me and my sister’s would lay looking at the stars.”

“Come on, let’s go look at it,” you shake your head no, wrapping your arms around yourself.  You hate to be this way, but someone was getting your dream spot.  “Buns, come on, lets go for a swim.”

“No.”

“Why?” He chuckles, and you pout at him.  It shouldn’t hurt so much to see your dreams obliterated, but it hurts so bad.  Someone was going to be living your dream, “Buns, why?”

“They probably have cameras everywhere.  We can’t just — Ransom, where are you going?”

“Swimming.  Care to join me,” he goes ahead, pulling his shirt off, turning around to look at you slowly getting out of the truck.  His hand goes to his belt as he yanks it out.  Teasing at his button, “Buns, come on!  You get in this pond with me, I’ll buy you Gucci.”

“This is someone’s house,” Ransom points up at the house, and you shrug.

“Babe, there’s no furniture.  Nobody is going to see us.  And if they do, they’re getting a view of my white ass,” standing still, he drops his underwear and pants in one swoop, giving you a wink when you see his dick.  “Bunny, hop on into the pond with me,” taking a deep breath, Ransom jumps into the pond, and you gather his clothes, walking over to it.

“What are you doing?  You’re not getting naked.”

“I’m not having sex with you in this pond.”

“You know it’s not actually a pond?  This is a natural looking pool,” he gives you a shit eating grin, and snaps his fingers, “Get in the pool with me.”

“I’m not having sex with you in this pool.  This is somebody’s house.”

“They’re not here.  They won’t care.”

“No, I’m not doing it.  Someone’s kids could be swimming in this, and your…your cum would be floating in it,” he throws his head back laughing, wading closer to you, “But I will get naked, and swim with you if the water isn’t too cold.”

“It’s heated, sweetheart.  Get in.  I’m not hard, I’m not going to have sex with you, I just want to make out with my girlfriend, and look out at the place that she used to make wishes from,” as quick as possible you start removing your clothes.  It was invigorating to be showing this place to Ransom.  Letting him see just how beautiful it was at night.  “Quit folding our clothes, and get your ass in this pool with me, and let me hold you as the sun sets.”

“You hush, Drysdale!” You take his word for it, and jump into the pool, and thankfully he wasn’t lying.  It feels amazing.  Just what you need.  Coming up, you are quickly jerked to his side.  “This is nice.  Now, you have to get me Gucci.”

“You name what kind of corgi you want and what color, and I will get you Gucci.  Now, C’mere.  The sun will be setting soon.”

“If you get hard, Ran, you’re on your own.”

“Not even if we go back in the truck?”

“That is my dad’s truck!  No!” While you giggle, Ransom blows raspberries on your neck.  His hands wrap around you, and he rubs along your belly.  “I think I should take a test when we get back to my parents’.”

“How about you decide that later.”

“You’re up to something,” peeking back at him, he just shrugs.  Swimming the two of you over to the edge of the pool, “You’re up to something big.  I don’t know if I trust you.”

“Whatever.  Trust me or don’t.  I don’t care,” that sneaky little smile proves just how right you are.  Ransom struggled to keep secrets from you, and for whatever reason, he was currently keeping something.  And a big something.

“Just look at the view,” you sigh, staring out at the setting sun.

Ransom lifts you up and out of the water, tilting his head down at your exposed breasts, “Oh, I’m looking at the view.”

“Ransom!  Are you always horny?”

“Yeah.  That’s what happens when I see you naked.  Now, why don’t we forget what you said earlier…”

“Nu-uh.”

“But you need your medicine.”

Your arm bends, and you cup his cheek.  You were just as guilty as Ransom when it came to being naked around each other.  Your pupils start to dilate as you look at him, “And what’s my medicine?”

“Mmm, something that is going to make you feel so good.  And besides, I want to see this belly so swollen with me,” he gives you a kiss, pulling away, but you hold him closer.  A chaste kiss turning into sin.  Twisting your body around so you can fully look at him.  Can feel his cock hard and hitting at your belly.  “Wait, is sex in the water a smart idea?”

“What?” You whimper, already grabbing the base of his cock.  Lifting a leg up around his body.  “Don’t you stop this now.  You started it.”

“Is it safe?”

“If the people who own this house have cameras it won’t be.  Ran, please, fuck me.  Fuck your seed in me, and let’s make a baby.”

“There’s my girl,” he whispers before crashing into your warmth.  You chirp, pulling him as close to you as possible.  He uses your body to fuck himself just as the sun starts to move behind the mountains creating the most perfect glow over you and Ransom.  This was another dream.  To have sex with the love of your life and see under the most beautiful sky you can think of.  

Stars and the moon start drifting into view, and your fingers grip onto his back.  His tip hits at just the right spot to send you spiraling.  Making the most beautiful sounds that Ransom needs to taste.  Slotting his lips against yours he swallows every strangled mewl.  Growling into your mouth as the two of you race for release.

When you were a child you had never dreamed of this moment.  Didn’t know that sex and making love were two very different things.  Didn’t know that the connection between two people could bind each other’s soul together.  

Ransom’s arms squeeze around your body.  The two of you let out a moan that echoes through the mountains right as Ransom’s voice breaks, eyes squishing close, and his jaw goes slack.  Your walls clenching down around him, and milking every bit of his cum.  The thick seed painting deep in your womb, while you deeply breathe, smiling at the man you know will be your husband.  You didn’t care what order things happened, Ransom would be your husband, the father of your child, and the two of you would have a home somewhere.

“What happened to not having sex in the pool?”

“I said that when I thought this was a pond,” with his hands wrapped tight around your bum, he starts walking the two of you out of the pool, “Where are you going?”

“I am going to see if the door is unlocked.”

“This house?  Ran, you know they have this locked,” he is goofy.  Ransom was going to get the two of you arrested if he didn’t stop playing with fire.

“Would you humor me?  This is the place that you have dreamed at and dreamed of your whole life.  Let’s just check it out,” sitting you on the ground, he throws your clothes at you.  Laughing as the two of you struggle to put clothes on wet skin.  

Sneaking up to the front door, Ransom gives you the biggest smile when it opens.  It was immaculate.  Even with very little to no future, it was amazing.  A larger house than you dreamed, but it worked.  “I want to see the kitchen,” you run towards the direction you just knew had to be the kitchen, and spin around.  Opening up the empty cabinets and forgetting Ransom altogether.  

You feel like a kid.  Like someone had given you a magical paintbrush, and your imagination had cooked this up.  Leaning around the corner you check something out, before you see Ransom move quickly out of the corner of your eye, and you spin to  look at him, gasping.  Your boyfriend is down on the floor on one knee, holding up a box of the most beautiful ring.

“You know you are the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and I don’t want to wait anymore.  I asked your parents earlier today, they gave me their blessing, and…will you marry me?”

“You’re asking me in somebody else’s house though.”

“No, I’m not,” a hand goes to your mouth, and there was no stopping the tears, “This is ours.  Your sisters helped a lot by showing me how to use your Pinterest.  Bucky helped, too.  He’s got a house at the edge of the property.  Closer to the barn.  Harlan is waiting on your answer, because he has a buyer for the estate, and he said that you and him are not allowed to be separated.  Bunny, this is our home for our kids, and…I couldn’t keep you and stay in Boston, and I don’t care about that place, I care about you, and if you would please put me out of my misery, and let me hold you because I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“But they’re happy tears,” you wipe away the steady flow of tears that you just couldn’t stop.

“Answer my question, you crazy thing.”

“Yes!  Yes!  Ransom Drysdale, I will marry you tomorrow if that’s what you really want.  I just, oh,” your words are cut short as he crashes his lips against yours.  Struggling to grab your left hand, until you push him off, “Make it official, Ran,” Ransom slides the ring over your finger, and you give it a quick look before looking back at your fiancé.  Today was a perfect day.  “Wait, you included Bucky?”

“Do you think I know I can run a farm and ranch alone?  I didn’t even know what a ferrier is or that the cows need to have hoof trims, or the pigs, or even what a chicken run was.  Bucky is our ranch hand.  He’s going to be the boss, and the lead man.”

“Good, because I want you to work on your book more.”

“Ehh, I need to learn some things.”

Frank spotted that stupid pretty boy that you had brought here first.  Saw his ridiculously perfect hair as the two of you, and your oldest and youngest sister walk through the downtown area.  You were acting like a lovesick puppy dog.  Clinging to him, smiling up at him, and every chance you could, you would kiss him.  Like anyone wanted to see that.  It was sickening how you were completely consumed by him.  

How even your sisters would laugh at something that he said.  Frank hated Ransom.  What kind of name was Ransom?  And why did you bring him here?  Frank keeps his eyes on the man because he just knew Ransom was going to look at some other woman as she walks by, but currently nothing.  The only other women he looks at are your sisters.  But after a few seconds he was back to looking at you.

The two of you were stupid.  You had come to where Frank was, and he couldn’t get away from you two.  Wherever you were, Ransom was.  Until you and your sister’s walk into a store, and Ransom is left sitting on a bench outside of it, but his eyes stay on the store, and Frank sees why.  Lingerie.

This is Frank’s only chance to actually speak to the man without you being present.  Of course you would lie to make Ransom feel better.  You would do anything to keep yourself out of trouble.  Strutting over to the bench, Frank sits quickly, and Ransom doesn’t even look his way.  He is too happy to let Frank ruin it.  

“Women like Bunny aren’t easy to keep entertained,” Ransom slowly turns to look at Frank with a look of pure disdain.  “Trust me as someone who knows.  We had this great relationship, me and her.  I was even the one that gave her that nickname.  And then, just when I thought we were moving forward, she runs off and leaves me.  We had us a home, too.  Left me with all those bills.  Left the dog, and Clyde still hasn’t been the same.  I was left heartbroken, but I knew she was always going to come back.  But, I got nothing for her.”

“Ahh, so this is why you’re talking to me?  Because you’re completely over her, right?” Ransom asks with a cheeky grin that just irritates Frank even further.  If only Frank knew that you and your sisters were in there trying to find you the perfect bridal lingerie, and Ransom was not allowed to look.  Frank had no idea what he was talking about.

“It’s more of a warning.  Bunny takes.  Bleeds you dry, and just when you think she’s done, she comes back to scrape the remains off you.”

“Frank, you can say whatever you want, but I’m not running away from her.  And she’s not running away from me.  I can promise you that.  I’ve run away from everything in my life, but it won’t be her.  She’s…”

“Hmm, how long have the two of you even been together?”  Frank was digging, and Ransom could clearly see that.  Ransom did not trust this man.  He was obsessed with the fact that you left him.  Had he left you, Ransom knew Frank wouldn’t have even cared.

“Two years this Thanksgiving,” Ransom informs him proudly.  It was two glorious years, and it didn’t feel even close to a year.  The most unfortunate thing about being with you is that time moves too quickly.

“That’s all?  You’re still in the honeymoon phase.  Wait…two years ago, huh?  So right before she came home for a week?  Just how serious were the two of you?  Maybe you should ask her what she was doing on her week home.  Because while you were at home, she wasn’t alone,” Frank shrugs his shoulders, and leans forward, starting to get up, “Look, man, I’m sorry.  I didn’t know she was dating anyone.  Failed to mention you.  But, just thought I would let you know who you are dating.  Have a good day, Ransom.”

“You son of a bitch, Frank Adler!” Picking up a bean bag off the corn hole board, you hurl it at Frank, hitting him directly in the face.  Ignoring Steve’s chuckles, and chants to egg you on.

“Buns, you’re right on time, darling.  We were just about to start another round,” Frank gives the bag in his hand a little toss, missing the hold in front of him.

“What are you fucking playing at by talking to Ransom?” Picking up another beanbag, you throw it, but Frank catches it this time.

“Just telling your loser boyfriend what you were up to when you came home two years ago,” just like Frank to bend the truth.  Wanted to leave the most salacious parts in there, and miss the entire story all together.

“And what exactly was I up to?  Because I think I remember that night a bit differently than you do.  I recall you, Frank, cornering me in my parents barn, and fuckign begging me to take you back.  You started to kiss me, and…”

“First off,” Frank drops his bags, starting to walk closer to you, spotting a little glimmer from your hand, but he keeps his eyes only on your face, he was not ready to face that, “I didn’t beg.  And you kissed me back.”

“Wait, what was it that you said?  ‘Buns, I’m so sorry darling.  I was an idiot.  I didn’t mean to, but you know I can’t quit the rodeo completely.  I will do whatever it is you want, just give me one more chance.’  Your drunk ass started to kiss me, and I pushed you away.”

“Only because…” he stops himself, but if he wants to make an ass of himself, you are going to show everyone here just how much of an ass he really is.

“Oh, yeah, I left that part out.  You had your hand moving up under my dress.  And I pushed you away, and you fell on your ass.  I was just a piece of ass to you.  We tried, and we failed miserably, and now since I was the one that left you after you made that decision for us, you’re trying to ruin something good in my life.  Ransom is the best thing that ever happened to me.  So good in fact, he wasn’t even mad about what you told him.  He told me that we weren’t even serious or exclusive, and he wasn’t going to hold whatever happened between us over my head.  And I told him exactly what happened.  You better be glad that I came here instead of him.  He was ready to…”

“What?  Kick my ass?  Hehe, Bunny like that pretty boy could ever even touch me.  Why the hell is he even here, Bunny?  He doesn’t fit in here.”

“Get used to it.  We’re moving here, you jackass.  We…he built us a home, and I’m marrying that man,” you raise up your ring finger, showing Frank just how committed you are to Ransom.  “And…I hate you.  I hate you so much.  I have had the best time here, and you tried to ruin it.  It didn’t work.  He’s going to marry me and he…he’s going to be the best father to our baby, and you can kiss my ass.  You wanted to ruin something, and he is so pure and good.  And he will be the best husband to me, and you don’t even care.  You don’t care about my happiness or our baby’s you…you only care about you, and you left me!”

“You left me!” Frank seethes, clenching his fists on either side of his body.  Frank always remembered things differently.  Remembered the parts that made him look like the victim.

“I never even had you!  The rodeo had all of you, I got the scraps, and I told you.  I told you if you left I was done, and I was leaving.  You left.”

“You left without saying anything.  I thought we were happy.  You didn’t even give me signs that you were unhappy.”

“I gave you all the signs, you just didn’t listen!  You were trying to force a pregnancy on me,” it was the worst part about your relationship.  A time when you literally felt like a broodmare.  That you were nothing but the flesh between your legs, and the ability to provide him with a son.

“And you were lying to me about that.  About the morning after pills, and the birth control, you lied!”

“I was exhausted!  You never listened to what I wanted.  I wanted you!  And you wanted that damn rodeo.  You only wanted me pregnant so I would follow you around like a puppy.  And we weren’t ready for a baby.  I did both of us a favor.”

“What are you doing with him?  You can’t walk five steps without looking at him and kissing him.”

“You fucking psycho!  Why are you watching us?  He had a house built.  He’s moving here with me.  And he didn’t ask me to do anything.  We’re…we’re on the same page about this baby, and we both want this.”

Finally your words sink in with Frank.  This baby.  Your hands rub over your belly protectively, and a piece of Frank dies.  He always thought you would eventually come back.  And you did, but you didn’t come back for him.  “Wait…you’re pregnant right now?”

“You still don’t fucking listen, Frank.  Yes, I’m pregnant.  I just found out this morning with my fiance.  He stood behind me, holding my belly as we waited for the results, and we celebrated together, because unlike us, me and Ransom are a team.  We are partners.  And we both wanted this baby.”

“That’s not the order,” you had always told him; house, marriage, baby.  It now looked like you got a house, an engagement, baby.

“I made that order for you because I didn’t trust you.  I was never going to have you, and I have always had Ransom.  Please, leave us alone.  Let me be happy.”

“And what about me?”

“I tried, Frank.  I tried to make you happy, and then I moved on.  Ransom is…I’ve never loved anyone like I do him.  Be happy for me, or stay out of my fucking life.  Because whether you want to be happy for me or not, I’m going dress shopping this weekend.  We’re rushing the wedding, so…so our little peanut won’t be visible.  Please, Frank, let me go, and move on.  For both of us.  Because I’m never coming back.  Ransom is my future.  Goodbye, Frank.”

Spinning on your heels, you turn to walk away from the bar.  Followed by Bucky who leaves the game of corn hole, and even Steve glares at Frank, rubbing the back of his neck, “Man, that was shitty.”

“Yeah, coming to our bar and cussing me like that.”

“No, I was talking about you.  Bucky and I both told you that she was unhappy.  Bucky even told you what you needed to do.  You guys broke up, it happens.  But you telling Ransom something that didn’t exactly happen the way you said it did — what if he left Bunny, and she’s pregnant alone?  You don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

“And what about you Mr. I need three girls to fuck me at once.”

“They know what they’re getting into.  I’m not trying to ruin someone’s relationship based on lies.  Frank, man, admit you were wrong with this.  Bunny is happy.  Let her be happy.  Let her enjoy her life in that stupid big house with her stupid pretty boy fiancé.  Bunny has always deserved the world, and even you said that.  That man is giving her the world.  Why do you think he had that house built on Sowers Road?” Frank shrugs his shoulders, staring blankly at the ground.

“Did you ever listen to her?  I wasn’t sleeping with her, and I know what significance that location is to her.  Frank, just apologize and move on.  There’s other women.  Bunny’s gone.  She’s pregnant with another man, she’s getting married, and they got a home.  It’s done, man.  You’re going to make it worse for you, not her, if you keep doing this.  I’m out.  I’m going home,” he drops his bags, and struts to his truck.  Thinking to himself it might be time for him to leave the rodeo.  But then again, it might just be time for him to continue sowing those wild oats.

One thing Steve knew for sure, Frank is a bitter man, and that bitterness was changing him.  He never thought Frank would be so low as to try and make Ransom break up with you.  Thankfully Ransom is a better man than Frank.

Next

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#closer to heaven and closer to you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fics #ransom drysdale smut #knives out #knives out fanfiction #chris evans #frank adler

[obitohno]

pillow talk

hanma shuji x reader

synopsis ⤸

after vowing to loathe hanma for as long as you live, you somehow end up tangled in his bedsheets.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, one night stand, hate sex, sex with feelings, breeding kink, creampies, oral sex, doggy-style, cowgirl, rough sex, unrequited love, one sided love, angst (if you squint), hanma has feelings, mitsuya is your best friend

word count ⤸

7.2k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

so, when i posted a sample of this, some of you were kind enough to say that you liked it enough for me to continue the story. n so, i wrote more, n some more, n then, even more, n now it’s over 7k words, oops. it’s longer than i originally planned it to be, but it’s probably my new favourite out of all of the fics that i’ve written (so far), which may or may not be heavily influenced by the fact that it’s about hanma, hhh. it’s three am here, so i’m definitely not editing today, but i’ll get around to it one day. pls enjoy the full fic, n thank you to those who encouraged me to finish this ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

there are many emotions that you can associate with each time the fates decide to test your misfortunate knack of bumping into hanma shuji, but happiness isn’t one of them. and unfortunately for you, today is yet another of those days.

you’ve never been able to pinpoint the exact reason why the mere sight of his face is enough to irate you, nor are you able to explain why just an utterance of his name influences the instinctive reflex to roll your eyes before you’re able to stop it from happening. most of the time, you like to think of yourself as the better person, but there comes a time when one must simply accept that they are not above disliking someone enough to sneak into the office kitchen to swap the salt with the sugar just to see their arch nemesis grimace into their morning cup of coffee during the weekly team meeting. and there must also come a time when one will be humbled, embarrassed, or suffer at the hands of karma, no matter how much it may sacrifice the reputation of your own ego. or his, for that matter. 

and today is that day. 

you don’t notice anything unusual when you first wake, refusing to open your eyes when you regain enough wit about yourself to recognise the heat of this morning’s sun burning into your right cheek. your left is pressed into the pillow beneath your head, your limbs splayed in all directions under the bedsheets. you can feel a tendril of hair tickling your forehead with each upward breath that is puffed from between your lips, which, with one flick of your tongue, feel dry due to lack of hydration. it is with this discomfort that your eyes finally blink open with great effort, lids drooping with exhaustion. for a long, blissful moment, you’re not conscious enough to recognise that this, in fact, is not your bed. nor is it your bedroom, either. 

that long, blissful moment continues as you move to stifle a yawn with the back of your hand, eyes blinking to regain some sort of coherency. only then, do you realise that your prone form is tangled in a mess of grey, silken bedsheets that do not belong to you. instantly, your spine stiffens, rigid with the brief flicker of anxiousness that has rendered you frozen. this pause stretches for far longer than what is probably deemed necessary, and before you take a proper look around you, you’re throwing the sheets back and stumbling from the ridiculously comfortable mattress, almost tripping over your own feet in your panic. there’s a bedside table that looks to be carved from an expensive oak—the sight of which makes your nose turn up—but nonetheless, it is what you reach out for when your ankle rolls painfully and you stifle a yelp by pushing your top row of teeth into the plush cushioning of your bottom lip. only, it seems that it’s unnecessary for you to catch your balance on the bedside table, but at that exact moment, the other occupant of the room reaches out and curls their fingers around your wrist in order to steady your balance. 

this time, you do scream; a stressed noise that even makes you wince, and you yank your wrist free whilst simultaneously losing said balance and landing hard on the ground. the impact forces a shocked grunt from your mouth, but you’re not focused on that, because you’ve now realised that you’ve awoken—as naked as the day you were born—in the bed of someone you do not know. 

except, the fates decide to prove you wrong, because the stranger breaks the silence, speaking in a low baritone that has served nothing but to aggravate you in every single possible way for the past decade. 

‘what you doin’ down there?’ 

and then, a shock of dark hair—mixed with bleached strands of golden-yellow—appears within your line of sight as he peers over the edge of the mattress to eye your sprawled form on the floor. heavily lidded eyes dance across your naked skin, but you’re too busy gawking at him in horror to recognise the flicker of arousal that passes over his features. when your jaw finally has the mind to stop hanging open, it snaps shut and your brows lower, pulling together as you glower up at him, thrusting an accusatory index finger in his face. 

‘you!’ 

and he, in typical hanma fashion, smirks. mockingly, he raises his own hand to point at his own bare chest, his other palm occupied by the weight of his head as he leans on it, appearing very comfortable with looking down at you. ‘me?’ he drawls, smirk widening when you finally recognise that you’re not wearing any clothes, and you rush to sit up, hands scrambling to grip the bedsheets and yank them from the bed in a desperate attempt to hide your nakedness from his greedy eyes. in doing so, though, you’d failed to think of the possibility that he’d be just as naked as you are, and your cheeks are lit aflame upon the sight of his cock, semi-hard against the crook of his thigh, nestled amongst a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. he isn’t nearly as embarrassed as you are—in fact, he only seems to be amused at your current predicament—and he simply lazes across the bare mattress, the corners of his eyes stretching slightly as he grins wide enough to bare his teeth at you. the sight makes your stomach twist with something that isn’t quite like disgust, but you promptly ignore it in favour of glaring at his stupid, smug face instead. 

‘y-you!’ you splutter again, recognising the burning feeling of anger quickly settling in the centre of your chest. your voice is shrill as you demand, ‘what the hell are you doing here!?’ 

he looks at you pointedly, a single, black eyebrow quirking up toward his hairline, ‘i live here?’

you have nothing to say to that, so instead, you redirect your anger toward the very obvious elephant in the room—how in the hells did you end up in his room? his bed? when you voice these questions aloud, you watch his eyebrows pinch together in what you can only describe as thinly veiled annoyance. 

‘what? you don’t remember?’ 

he sounds angrier than you’d expected, but it only fuels your own irritation, an emotion that isn’t foreign to you, especially when it concerns him. ‘obviously not,’ you snap at him, eyes wandering over the expanse of his thighs, all the way down to his ankles. you follow the lines and curves of his muscles as he pushes himself upright, eyes narrowing down at you. 

it’s no secret that the two of you don’t get along. you’d immediately taken to disliking him when you first met as teenagers, and it appeared that he’d felt the same. then, you’d graduated from university, and you had made the mistake of thinking that you had finally escaped from seeing his insufferable face every damned day, only to have the misfortune of accepting a secretarial role at one of the largest law firms in the country, and being introduced to the senior partner, hanma-fucking-shuji, on the very first day. and, much like in his teenage years, hanma had made sure to live up to his infuriating nickname—the reaper—and has continued to make your life a living hell ever since. 

and, of course, he hasn’t earned the role of senior partner for no reason. last night had been the celebration of yet another big win added to hanma’s ever growing repertoire, and this time, it had been the much awaited end to a very public murder trial that had stretched on for far too long, in your opinion. and despite the fact that you’d dramatically announced that you’d rather die than celebrate anything associated with the most insufferable man on the planet, it was kokonoi and mitsuya who had dragged you along anyway. you’d been tucked away in the corner, sitting on the plush velvet seat that had looked like it had cost more than your monthly rent, and when mitsuya had politely suggested that you at least fake a smile every once in a while, instead, you had grumbled every curse under the sun. 

after that, you don’t remember a thing. 

so, for reasons unimaginable to you—because, really, you had no idea as to why you would subject yourself any sort of company with him of all people—you’re now sat on hanma’s bedroom floor, wrapped in a thin, silken bedsheet that looks as obnoxious as his face does, absolutely mind boggled as to how you ended up in this situation. 

you must have really pissed someone off in a past life. 

begrudgingly, you meet hanma’s gaze, and in a voice so minute that he has to strain to hear you, you dare to ask, ‘uh…? did we—?’ you motion a hand between the two of you, and if possible, his frown deepens. 

he leans closer to the edge of the bed, golden orbs staring down at you, hard. ‘you really don’t remember?’ you shrug, nose crinkling into a grimace. he pauses, gaze distant as if he’s seeing right through you, and then he scoffs out a, ‘huh.’ then, instead of answering you, he rises from the bed and steps over you to make his way over to the built in wardrobe that dominates the opposing wall. he doesn’t answer your question, but with the alarming lack of clothing involved throughout this entire exchange, and with the familiar ache that is nestled deep into the muscles of your thighs when you shift your legs, you already know the answer. dread spreads across your entire chest, and you belatedly think to yourself: what the fuck have i done? 

hanma? of all people? hanma-fucking-shuji? how, and most importantly, why? why can’t you remember a thing from last night—surely you hadn’t drank that much? and why in the hells didn’t you go home with mitsuya, as you’d promised to earlier that night? at this thought, you frown, and you wonder if mitsuya even knows where you are. the thought of him panicking upon your disappearance makes your stomach fill with nauseating guilt, strands of hair gluing themselves to back of your neck that seems to get clammier and clammier with each passing second. your eyes skip across the vastly large room, searching for your handbag, which you hope that you’d had enough sense to bring with you, and your shoulders sag with relief when you spot it, dumped at the foot of the bed. however, before you’re able to make a beeline toward it, you’re distracted by hanma flinging one of the wardrobe doors open, and he looks at you from over the crook of his shoulder as if he hasn’t just flashed you an eyeful of his bollocks swinging between his legs, his expression touching upon an eerie shade of cold, ‘you should leave. wouldn’t want you to get caught with the reaper, now, would we?’ 

you don’t hesitate to do as he says. scrambling to find your clothes laying in a crumpled pile next to your handbag, you hurriedly pull the crinkled fabric of your work dress over your head, chucking your bra and stockings into the handbag and feet rushing you toward the bedroom door. you feel his eyes watching you from his spot by the wardrobe, your cheeks heating upon the realisation that he is yet to dress himself. 

pausing by the door with your handbag haphazardly thrown over your shoulder, you loiter, pointedly refusing to look at his naked form as you mumble a very hesitant thanks. you may be mortified that it was him, of all people, that you chose to have a one night stand with—albeit one that you cannot remember—but you also can’t deny that it was also him that made sure you had somewhere safe to stay for the night. he could’ve easily kicked you out after having his way with you, and yet, for a reason far beyond your capabilities to think about right now, he let you stay within the comfort of his bed, which, you are loathe to admit that it is, in fact, a very comfortable bed. 

in response, he echoes your thanks with a laugh that sounds anything but genuine. he jabs a thumb in the direction of the door, and orders, ‘i’ve got shit to do. fuck off.’ 

shame and irritation immediately boil your blood, and you have half a mind to give him the ear-thrashing that he has had coming for a long time, but right now, you’d love nothing more than to rid yourself of his presence, and so you turn away, yanking on the door handle and shuffling out into the hallway. you don’t look back to realise that he’s still staring after you. 

you find your heels thrown on the floor by the entrance door, and you ignore the churning of your stomach when you retrieve one of them from its place on top of his evidently expensive pair of brogues. said heels are shoved onto your feet and as fast as your newly forming headache will allow, you leave the apartment, door slamming shut behind you. 

once you’re waiting inside the elevator, you use the time to travel down six floors to straighten your clothes in a bid to make it look like that you’re not currently performing the walk of shame. and once you make it past a very awkward smile shared with the receptionist at the front desk, you’re out onto the street, one hand smoothing down the messy tendrils of hair that billow in the morning breeze, the other, dialling mitsuya’s phone number. the phone doesn’t even manage to ring twice when he picks up with an immediate urgency, and you are made aware that he’s been trying to call you all fucking night, where the hell have you been?! five minutes later and he’s still spewing on about how close he was to calling the police and reporting you missing, but as much as you love him for loving you enough to be this worried about you, you have far more pressing news to share. 

‘’suya,’ you interrupt his angry ramble, pressing the button at the traffic lights as you await the signal to cross. ‘you’ll never guess what’s just happened—’

and for the next twenty minutes, you inform him of the circumstances of your whereabouts. by the time you finish, you’re already halfway through your journey home. 

‘no fucking way,’ mitsuya blurts in a way that is very un-mitsuya-like.

he then proceeds to tell you that after sulking in the corner of the booth for majority of the party, you’d suffered an uncharacteristic bout of alcoholism, and had drank so much that both mitsuya and kokonoi had caught you—still somehow standing upright—sneaking off to the bathroom to vomit. however, after you’d fallen over for the third time, kokonoi had made the decision to send you home via taxi. you’d stepped outside to clear your head, and mitsuya, the gentleman that he is, had accompanied you as you’d sat on the curb with your head pressed between your knees. his role, surprisingly, had been replaced by none other than hanma-fucking-shuji, who had stepped out for a cigarette and had offered to watch you whilst mitsuya went back inside to say his goodbyes. but when he returned, neither you nor hanma were in sight. 

‘i really thought this was gonna be like one of those documentaries where i’d keeping waiting for you to come home, but instead, the police find you dead in some dude’s bin,’ he says quietly down the phone, and despite the need to tell him that his imagination couldn’t be any more far-fetched, you feel the familiar burn when your eyes prickle with fresh tears. you swallow down the lump that forms in the back of your throat, mumbling a soft apology into the microphone, which he laughs off, voice shaking as he says, ‘it’s about time, anyway.’ 

your lips part, ready to question what he means by that, the wind picks up and billows the skirt of your dress around your thighs, and because of this, the air blows into a place where you really shouldn’t be able to feel the wind. this is when you are suddenly hit with the horrifying realisation that in your earlier panic, there is one item that you had failed to retrieve from hanma’s apartment. 

your underwear. 

卍

it wouldn’t be until three weeks have passed before you next encounter hanma. 

for exactly sixteen days, and counting, you do your upmost to avoid bumping into the ‘absolute beanpole-freak of a man’ as baji had once summarised hanma’s stature when he’d decided to join in on your rant to kokonoi after overhearing you whilst passing by in the hallway. 

the entire office is aware of the mutual rivalry between the two of you, which explains why most of them are baffled as to why you’ve suddenly halted your efforts to slander hanma’s name at every given opportunity, and have instead resorted to either paling by a few shades or stammering a lame excuse—which usually consists of very little coherency—and making a swift exit from the conversation. it was only after chifuyu had reported to the group that you’d said that you had to leave early because your pet cat was having a tooth removed, that kokonoi had later called that evening to tell you to ‘get your shit together’. 

you don’t even own a pet cat, for fuck’s sake. 

if you’re being completely honest, you’re surprised that you’ve managed to avoid him for this long. usually, you arrive at the office long before it opens to the public, which, unfortunately for you, is also the exactly time that hanma likes to arrive, usually wasting most of his free time to annoy you by interfering with your daily routine. once, after a particularly bitter argument in front of the entire office body—caused by him ‘accidentally’ tripping over and spilling freshly brewed coffee all over your work tablet—he’d spent the remainder of the day sporting a very large, bright red sore after you’d retaliated by throwing the desktop mouse straight at his ‘stupid fucking face’.

he’d thrown in an empty threat (or two) to have charges pressed against you, before retracting it when your eyes had glistened an interesting shade of pink, all with a smug grin plastered to that stupid fucking face of his. 

but this week, you’ve resorted to travelling to work with baji and nahoya, who, by almost everyone’s standards, are late to work everyday. 

it’s far from ideal to arrive to work after the clock reads past nine am, but you’d rather be reprimanded for tardiness than to risk the alternative. 

but it seems that a few of your coworkers are becoming a tad concerned by your behaviour, as on the seventeenth day, you are called into your manager’s office. at first, you fear that you really are in trouble, but those anxieties are quickly quashed when he asks if you’re faring well. it is only after that you repeatedly insist that yes, you are fine, and thank you, but no, there’s no need for him to lighten your workload because you promise that you are not stressed, and yes, you’ll tell him if you need any assistance, and sorry, but you don’t know what’s on the lunch menu for wednesday, does he finally allow you to leave. after this, you do your best to act as normal as possible, but you clearly fail in doing so, because this only results in another call back to your manager’s office the very next day. 

in the end, you throw yourself into your work, hoping that it’ll serve as a much needed distraction. it works for the majority of days eighteen, nineteen and twenty, but when you breach the third week, that is when your luck runs out. 

you’ve stayed late to finish up some notes that haven’t yet been submitted, but when you need to use the printer, you are frustrated to find that it won’t switch on, despite checking all of the nearby plug socks, and pressing every damn button on the blasted machine. after fighting with the printer for a good fifteen minutes, eventually, you huff a curse under your breath and decide to leave to use the machine on the floor above you, but not without delivering a swift kick to the base on your way. 

this late in the evening, the building is quiet—too quiet—and it’s almost a little eerie as you click, clack your way over to the elevator. there are probably only a few other stragglers within the entire building, so it doesn’t take long before the doors are sliding open to allow you inside. you reach the upper floor within seconds, which you could’ve easily made on foot, but you’re feeling far too lazy for that. once you locate the printer, you set to work on making sure that everything is switched on correctly. you’re balancing on the tips of your heels to reach the plug socket when, suddenly, there’s a large tattooed hand brushing the the curve of your waist, before it tightens to hold you in place. the other hand closes over your mouth to muffle the shriek that gets stuck in the back of your throat. pulse  hammering, your spine stiffens when there’s a warm weight that presses to the round of your behind, trapping you against the printer. 

a pair of lips ghost over the shell of your ear, ‘you’re avoidin’ me.’ 

you’d never have thought that you’d ever be relieved to hear hanma’s voice, but the second that you recognise him to not be a random stranger breaking into the office to have their way with you, your spine relaxes for a short moment before your relief quickly morphs into the shape of anger. enraged by his audacity to not only sneak through the office to catch you off guard, but it’s multiplied by the fact that he’s also dared to put his hands on you in a way that would look compromising to anyone who may walk past. you also despise the fact that after three weeks of working hard to avoid him, it’s all been undone with just one whisper into your ear. 

you glance down and recognise the black inking of the kanji for ‘punishment’. how fitting. 

despite the fact that he can’t see the look on your face, your eyes roll and before he sees it coming, you bend your right arm and elbow him as hard as your strength will allow. he grunts, hand falling from your face, but to your surprise, he maintains his hold on your waist, long fingers biting through the fabric of your blouse. the hand that displays the kanji for ‘sin’ traces up the length of your throat before it curls, index finger stroking along the length of your jugular. ‘behave,’ he murmurs, hot breath fanning the curve of your cheek as his lips follow, huffing a short laugh when you attempt to elbow him again. this time, he’s prepared and he doesn’t even flinch when the sharp edge of your elbow collides with his rib cage. instead, his fingers twitch against your neck, and he hums happily, ‘so fuckin’ sexy.’ he emphasises the last word with a nudge of his groin against your backside, accompanied with a phantom of a moan that you’d’ve missed if not for the fact that his lips are now pressed to your temple. 

his words only fuel your irritation, which only just masks the fact that the position he has you in is starting to affect you. not that you’re ever going to admit it aloud—especially not to him. 

‘fuck you,’ you spit at him from over your shoulder. 

he sneers down at you, humming as he shifts his hips, and you hate the fact that when you feel the hardened shape of his length grinding into your thigh, it encourages the heat that is slowly beginning to burn between your legs. ‘fuck me?’ he repeats, sin now sliding over your skin to grip the back of your neck, roughly shoving you forward so that your chest presses into the hard surface of the machine below you. there, he easily holds you in place with one hand, and he towers over you from behind, hips pressed flushed to your backside. ‘you’ve fucked me before,’ he hisses, punishment trailing a long index finger down the length of your spine, which, to your horror, instinctively arches to encourage his touch. you almost hope think that he’s going to grab at your ass, but instead, he croons mockingly into the shell of your ear, ‘or don’t you remember?’ 

you freeze under him, recognising the barely concealed fury that is laced between each syllable that leaves his mouth. 

so that’s what this is about. 

you don’t get to dwell on the subject of his bruised ego, because he’s grabbing at you once again, spinning you around until you’re both stood chest-to-chest. you barely have a second to crane your neck to glare up at him before he’s gripping your jaw and angling your head so that your neck stretches towards him. your hands fly to shove at his chest, to no avail, because he’s built like a brick wall, apparently. 

instead, you resort to simply slapping his hand away, ‘don’t fucking touch me.’ 

he’s silent as he glowers down at you through the lenses of his glasses, regarding your expression for just a few, short seconds, before he steps back. you dare not acknowledge the disappointment you feel at the loss of his warmth. just when his stare starts to feel a tad uncomfortable, he smooths a hand through his hair, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. he’s frowning, lips parting as if he has something that he wishes to say, before he clearly thinks the better of it as his mouth closes again. he nods once, whether to you or to himself, you’re not sure. 

‘fine,’ he says shortly. 

and then before you’re able to respond, he’s turning on his heel and disappearing down the hall. you stare, long after he’s walked out of your line of sight. the heat that’s built deep within your gut eventually simmers, but it takes longer that you care for, and it takes even longer for you to remember what you were doing on this floor in the first place. twenty minutes later, you’ve finished your work for the night and you’re just locking the office door before you make your way home, when one thought repeatedly circles through your mind: 

you forgot to ask for your underwear back. 

卍

somehow, it happens again. 

this time, you wake to a finger stroking over the curve of your cheek and tickling the baby hairs back from your forehead. the sensation makes you stir, brows pulling together as your eyes slowly peel open. exhausted, your eyelids are heavy, and it takes a few blinks to recognise that, once again, you’ve awoken in a bed that doesn’t belong to you. 

this time, however, your foggy mind is able to put together the blurred memories from the previous night: 

you’d attended a dinner with your colleagues, who’d later suggested continuing the night at the club down the road. it’d taken some convincing, but you’d agreed, only to immediately regret it because during the short walk down the road, you’d bumped into another office party who, by chance, were also making their way over to the very same club. you hadn’t recognised any of these people, except for the one golden-eyed man who had glanced at you once, twice, before turning his cheek and pretending that you weren’t there. that had been fine with you; two of you could play that game. 

except, this game didn’t last for very long. 

once the newly-extended party had reached the club, it hadn’t taken all of one hour before the two of you had engaged in a heated argument outside of the club, and in one moment, you were yelling every insult under the sun and in the next, he was backing you against the wall and shoving his tongue down your throat. 

a warm puff of breath is fanned across your face and your nose crinkles. 

not again, you want to cry aloud, but your words die on the tip of your tongue when you blink up to see a familiar pair of golden-coloured eyes already focused on you, apprehension pinching his brows together. you’re unable to stop yourself from sighing, eyes drifting to where the bedsheets pool at his bare waist. you don’t have to look under the fabric to know that you’re also not wearing any clothes. you decide that you lack the energy to start an argument this early in the morning, so instead, you simply lay there with your eyes closed. 

lying this close to him, you can hear each draw of breath into his nostrils and you feel each exhale blowing gently across the side of your face. it’s peaceful, despite the fact that you’re a little unnerved by his uncharacteristic quietude. but, all too soon, he breaks the silence by shifting next to you, and the mattress first dips, then raises as it eases without his weight. you listen to the bedroom door opening and swinging shut, and only then do your eyes peel open. you’re alone in the bedroom, and for a reason unknown to you, your heart hammers away in your chest. just like the last time, there’s an ache set deep within the muscles of your thighs, and you can’t stop your mind from drifting to recall the night before. you’re so deeply immersed into your thoughts that you almost miss the sound of his footsteps approaching the room. when he enters, the door hasn’t even fully closed before he’s burying himself back under the covers, the full length of his body pressing as close to you as possible. you have half the mind to shove him away, but you are betrayed by your own body, which welcomes the arm that snakes under your neck and pulls you closer. your right cheek is smushed into his shoulder, the rough impact making your teeth knock together. 

‘’m tired,’ he grumbles, low voice even deeper when thick with sleep. the sound vibrates across his chest and dances down your eardrum, your own breath tickling its way across his collarbone. in response to him, you hum a noncommittal noise. 

the fact that you’re cuddling up to the one man who you had sworn to hate for the rest of your life is one that makes your gut churn with the niggling feeling that this isn’t how things work between the two of you. the majority of the past decade has been spent fighting, shouting and cursing each other to hell and back, and although your life would be much easier without the stress that is hanma shuji, you also can’t deny that since you’d awoken in his bed all those weeks ago, it’s all you’ve thought about. he’s insufferable, yes, and on more than one occasion, you’ve loved nothing more than to slap away the smug smile that is perpetually glued to his face. but even you must admit that something has changed between the two of you. what, exactly, you cannot be sure, but you aren’t given the chance to question it, because the pads of his fingers are bumping under your chin and when you blink at him through sleep-laden eyelids, his gentle expression is one that you’d never thought him capable of. 

‘tired,’ he repeats, his own eyelids drooping as his gaze lowers to your mouth, ‘don’t wanna fight.’ 

and that’s when you realise that you’re tired too. 

it must’ve shown on your face because something flickers within those golden orbs of his, and then he’s tilting his head so that his lips ghost over yours. there’s a soft brush, before they press to yours properly, his fingers firming against your chin as he holds you in place. to your surprise, he kisses you lazily, very much unlike how he’d kissed you last night, and as much as you’d enjoyed what you’d received the night before, this kiss makes your toes curl. his tongue probes to caress yours, and although you probably taste of day-old alcohol and the stale flavour of sleep, he breathes a moan when you return his efforts. 

your skin is enveloped with the smell of him, the taste of him, the warmth of him, and it isn’t long before you begin to feel your pulse throbbing between your legs. his hand moves from your chin to stroke his thumb to the length of your neck, and you press closer, legs shifting beneath the bedsheets. as if sensing your hesitation, he encourages your intentions by slipping one long leg between yours and suddenly, his arousal presses to the crook of your thigh, his length burning as hot as you are. your clit throbs harder, and you move so that you’re propped by your elbow, now leaning over him. this position allows you to kiss him deeper, your free hand reaching to push back the longer strands of hair from his face. 

his forehead feels feverish beneath your fingers, and soon, his kisses burn as hot as his skin does. 

a hand strokes your thigh and then tugs. ‘c’mere,’ he murmurs into your mouth. he positions your body over his own, your thighs straddling his hips. your cunt is pressed flush against his cock and he’s unable to muffle the groan that escapes him when his tip glides through your slick folds until the blunt edge bumps your clit. you whimper against his lips before his tongue languidly slides along yours. you lose yourself to his attentions and when his hips begin to slowly roll underneath yours, you pull your mouth from his to mewl quietly into the crook of his neck. 

the head of his cock repeatedly knocks your clit and one particularly harsh thrust has you crying out a tad louder than you’d expected. the sound has the corners of his mouth curling upward, and he doubles his efforts, hips canting harder with each thrust. you keen, eyes screwed shut tight as your fingers cling to his shoulders, and you moan his name, to which he responds with a low growl and a nip to your collarbone. your arousal coats his erection, which aids the one thrust that has him prodding at your hole. it clenches instinctively, and then, it’s stretching with the thickness of his girth as he fills you. 

once sheathed, his hips still, his hands stroking and tickling wherever that he can reach, which, with those long arms of his, is everywhere. your tongue is inside his mouth once more, your fingers clutching, tangling and pulling at his hair and he groans, girth twitching deep inside you. his hips jump once more, and then his length is caressing your inner walls, and each time he sheathes himself inside you, your clit drags along the texture of his pubic hair, the sensation clenching your walls tight around him. his breath stutters and he moans, ‘fuck, baby, just like that.’ his paces quickens, and his voice trembles with his efforts as he whispers filthy promises into your ear. ‘gonna fuckin’ fill you,’ he coos happily, ‘you gonna let me breed you, huh?’ you clench around him again, ‘f-fuck, baby, pretty little pussy’s gonna fuckin’ milk me dry.’ 

he pants heavily, and the power behind his thrusts makes your thighs shake in an effort to stay upright. the room is filled with the clapping of his pelvis colliding with your own, his balls slapping your ass as he plunges deep into you. you can do nothing more than desperately clutch at him as he drills into you, the heavy weight of his cock claiming the hot cavern of your cunt as its own. rapidly, you reach your peak and as you tip over the edge, you exclaim your pleasure around the syllables of his name. this apparently pleases him, and his biceps flex when his arms wrap around your middle, holding you right against him. he continues to rut into you, your cream staining a white ring around the base of his girth. 

he groans a long, drawn out noise that has you suspecting that he must be nearing his limit. 

you couldn’t be more wrong. 

just as you’re teetering on the edge of another rapidly building orgasm, it’s interrupted by the sudden schlick of his cock tugging free from your hole. your surprise comes in the form of a sharp yelp, only to morph into a squeak when he flips the both of you over and rises to sit on his haunches. 

‘get on your knees,’ he orders, and usually, when you aren’t drunk on arousal, you would’ve reprimanded him. but, this time, his bossiness only turns you on more, and you scramble to turn away from him to position you body so that your knees dig into the mattress. a large, warm hand presses to the small of your back, guiding you until it arches, your press pressing into a pillow. ‘baby, baby, baby,’ he moans, fingers dancing over the sensitive skin on the back of your thighs. you’ve never been one for pet names, but the way he praises you makes your clit tighten when it pulses. there’s a pause, and you feel your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of being watched, and for the first time, you feel self conscious. but, when you try to curl in on yourself, you’re stopped by the mattress shifting once more, and then he’s pressing the flat of his tongue over your slit, and sucking. a breath hitches in the back of your throat, and if not for the strong grip holding your legs apart, you would’ve snapped your thighs shut together. instead, his tongue encourages you to rock your hips, and his teeth graze your clit, throbbing an electrifying heat throughout your entire body. 

‘oh my god—shuji,’ his name slips from between your lips before you can stop it, and upon realising what you’ve just said, you freeze. the tongue delving between your folds, however, does not. he’s loud and messy as he sucks at your clit, and he hums, the vibrations making your toes curl. at some point, he gives your clit a break, and instead plunges his tongue into your hole as far as it’ll reach. this stretch feels a tad strange, but still just as good, and you cry out when he repeats the action, curling his tongue inside you. 

already, your second orgasm is building and you chant the words, ‘gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna—a-ah—!’ 

your entire body shudders, and the pillow muffles your scream before it is ripped away from under your head and you have no choice but to sob out into the open air.  

your pussy clenches around nothing, and hanma watches your essence creams out from your tight hole, dripping a puddle onto his bedsheets, his palming fisting at his cock as he does so. licking at his lips, he rises above you, and smiles when he grinds the blunt head of his cock past the opening of your cunt, and watches as you greedily suck him back in. he moans along with you as he fucks into you over and over again, cursing when your cream messily marks his cock as yours. 

fuck, he thinks he’s in love. 

his eyes bore into the centre of your back, and he’s momentarily distracted by the thought of just how long he’s dreamt of doing this with you. distracted by the memory of how fucking embarrassed and hurt he’d felt when he’d finally gotten you into his bed and you hadn’t remembered how you’d gotten there. distracted by the memory of the lonely nights that followed your avoidance of him, his hands no longer being good enough to placate the ache in his chest during those lonely nights, all because nothing—no-one—has ever made him cum like you do. ten years, it has taken to get you to want him like how he’s wanted you all this time. ten fucking years, he’s pathetically lusted and pined for you, and now that you’re finally letting him touch you in the way he’s wanted to touch you since you were both nineteen years old, he’s no longer willing to let you pretend that there’s nothing between you. 

a harsh thrust has your fingers curling into the sheets, back arching further as your hips start to rock in time with him. he breathes hard between his teeth, fingers bruising the soft skin of your hips as he pistons himself so deep inside you that you squeal, a shrill, elated noise that makes his balls tighten with the promise of his approaching orgasm. he doesn’t want it to end yet, so he slows in a attempt to last longer, but you shatter his plans when his birth name is panted from your kiss-swollen lips and with that, a yell of euphoria bursts from his mouth. his cock jerks and he breeds your cavern full of his seed, the thick, white ropes painting your inner walls white. you drain him for everything that he has, pussy repeatedly clenching and unclenching, milking every drop from him. he struggles to catch his breath for a long time afterwards, pulse drumming away in his ears. when his blood finally simmers, he slowly pulls from the addicting heat of you with a soft moan of protest. his cock is still half hard, weakly twitching with interest when a large glob of his seed breeches your hole and he watches, awed, as it slides between your cum soaked folds before it joins the mess that you made on the bed earlier. 

he licks his lips, and your taste still clings to the inside of his cheeks. eyelids drooping, he relishes in your flavour, and he’s tempted to have another taste. his prick encourages the idea with another jerk, the muscle jumping between his legs as it furiously engorges with blood. again. he waits until you regain the energy to move, before he tries to kiss you again with a hesitancy that makes your brows quirk upwards. he’s half expecting you to reject him, so he’s pleasantly surprised when you readily accept his mouth moulding to the shape of yours. the sliding of your fingers across his scalp coaxes a low hum from the back of his throat, and he easily pulls you onto his lap, arms tightening around your waist. 

he’s spent over a decade trying to get your attention, and now that he finally has it, he’s going to make sure you remember this time. 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡ #tr x reader #tr smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #hanma x reader #hanma x you #hanma smut #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji x you #hanma shuji smut

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2023.07.29

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Emotions Are Complicated by gaycodfish [T, 1k]

►Draco's journey of understanding emotions throughout his life.

2. Hopeless by DarklingDarling [E, 7k]

►Draco, a newly recruited Auror trainee, has become the target of cruel hazing from his fellow trainees who are set on making him quit. Given that Ron Weasley is the ring leader, Draco isn’t surprised by the antics… but what is surprising though, is that one wizard in particular is determined to protect him. And that wizard is Harry Potter.

3. Just Children by ThePotatoQueen [G, 1k]

►[...] And then he too was crying into Malfoy’s arms, and the pair of them cried together, the Chosen One and the Death Eater’s son, both caught up in something so much bigger than themselves, just pawns in a twisted game of wizard’s chess. Just children.

4. Starlit Serendipity by Hopefulrainbows [T, 2k]

►One evening on the astronomy tower, they share their love for the stars and find comfort in each other's presence. [...]

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Nothing But You On My Mind by Anonymous [M, 29k]

►Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out. ★ HD Wireless 2023 | @hd-wireless

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #daily list #2023 #2023.07

[drarryglobesficrecs]

Accident Bonding/Bonding - drarry fic recs

Lift Your Open Hand by firethesound(18k)

With Draco Malfoy as his assigned partner for the next six weeks of Auror training, Harry had been prepared for things to go poorly. But getting themselves accidentally bonded to each other in the first twenty minutes of their very first assignment seemed going above and beyond, even for them.

In Evidence of Magical Theory by bixgirl1(43k)

When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they're forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible.

In which Harry and Draco can't fight, so they fall in love instead.

Beacon by Amelior8or, Andithiel, gameofdrarrymod, Kristinabird(7k)

Every year around Valentine's day Professor Potter is flooded with questions from love struck young girls about soulmates and soulmate bond lore, and every year, he gets through it as quickly as he can so he can return to his lessons. This year, however, his life is turned upside down when he encounters a mysterious object that lands him in St. Mungos, under the care of Draco Malfoy.

Celestial Bodies by shiftylinguini(20k)

“An astrological anomaly induced bond,” Harry repeats, deadpan, as the Head Healer of the Magical Malfunctions ward finishes announcing his prognosis.

“Space magic,” says Draco, tapping long fingers irritably against the arm of his chair. “You’re saying we’ve been zapped by space magic.”

The Healer huffs. “That’s rather simplifying things, gentlemen.”

If It Takes All Night by tackytiger(10k)

It's not the first time Harry's been the victim of a botched curse (that's one of the reasons he doesn't like crowds), but he feels bad that Malfoy had to get caught up in it too.

So they're bonded. That's ok, they just have to make sure to be touching at all time. No problem. Because Malfoy smells so nice, and has such lovely shiny hair, and his skin is so very warm.

But this isn't going to be a problem for their friendship at all.

Is it, Harry?

Drop Everything Now by parkkate(21k)

After accidentally bonding himself to Malfoy, Harry finds himself in an utterly precarious situation...

Chain Me Up or Set Me Free by alpha_exodus(12k)

This horrid bonding thing is all Potter’s fault, obviously. As for what comes after that? Draco’s not quite sure.

Harmonised Consciousness by Talizora(12k)

This time it's a spell gone wrong in Charms that will bring our two favourite boys together. Expect Mind-Magic Classic HD Clichés & Soul Mates

---

"Potter's spell is still active, but I can shield my thoughts from him. I've been stirring him up all afternoon! It's hysterical!"

Blaise gasped, "It's still active! But it's… Dinner time!"

"Yes, so?"

"S-so? That spell is supposed to cancel itself after an hour! It's been, almost four hours!"

Draco shrugged, "I'm not worried. It's probably due to Potters magic. I'm sure it'll time-out eventually."

Blaise frowned, "Draco I don't think this is a good idea. Maybe you should end the spell?"

"No way! Blaise! I can hear everything! Before, in Runes, Potter was ranting about how he wanted to kill Weasel and Trelawney! He's all over the place! I had no idea he had such homicidal tendencies!" Draco giggled.

One of Blaise's eyebrows rose, "…Draco? Did you just giggle?"

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

Twice as Much as an Earthquake by firethesound(12k)

Accidental bonding. Breaking and entering. Conspiring, however unwillingly, in the strange one-man war Malfoy's waging against detention. This isn't the normal school year Harry anticipated having, but at least it's not boring.

Tug-O-Want by dysonrules(16k)

Harry is back at Hogwarts minding his own business when he finds himself magically drawn to Draco Malfoy. Over and over again.

Hungry by birdsofshore(24k)

The first thing Harry knew about it was when he woke up lying on a bed in the hospital wing, with his arm firmly stuck to the scrawny, milk-white arm of Draco bloody Malfoy.

The Sleeping Beauty Curse by who_la_hoop(152k)

When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he . . .?

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre(122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

The Destiny You Sold by tryslora(58k)

In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

Mental by sara_holmes(186k)

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x harry #drarry #drarry fic #drarry squad #harry x draco #drarry fanfic rec #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfic recommendation #drarry fanfiction #drarry fic rec #drarry fandom #draco lucius malfoy #harry draco #harry/draco #harry james potter #okay but why do bonding fics always hit? #like is it just me #i love them #AND ILY #yes you! #a lot #fic rec #read the tags before reading the fic

[thedo0zyslider]

I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - Chapter Five: Swampy Vacation - 7k Words

Fwhip embarks on a journey to the Codlands, courtesy of Grimlands Count. Safe to say he is less than pleased with the idea

A03 Link

Several weeks later, after dozens and dozens of tense days in the house, Fwhip finds himself being shipped off to the Codlands for two weeks. His father says it was a planned trip, so he could learn about their culture and what not. The ginger doesn't quite believe that.

Fwhip is pretty sure it’s because of the fight he and his sister had. And because Gem was scheduled to visit the day after he left too, which is pretty convenient timing if you ask him. He's almost grateful that their parents seem to be keeping them separate, because he's still feeling miserable about the whole thing. And he doesn't want that to lead into another fight again, then he really wouldn't know what to do with himself. 

He knows his fight with Gem isn’t over that one bad day. It’s god knows how many years worth of problems all exploding at once, because they suck at emotional stuff. And they're family is a big old mess too. One so full of issues that it makes him wanna bang his head into a wall half the damn time. 

He hasn’t seen Gem since she left for the Cliffs, right after their fight, which was over half a month ago at this point. Fwhip hasn’t messaged her on the new communicators they were gifted with either. Just another thing on the problem pile now, he supposed. Even if he didn't want it to be. The ginger isn’t really upset that his sister hasn’t spoken to him though, for he’s still pretty upset at her. She had called his one and only joy in this life dumb and stupid after all.

Fwhip is upset at himself too. The future Count knows he was being an asshole with most, if not all. of his comments, even if some were the truth. Yet at the same time he had no idea what to do, or how to talk to Gem about it. How do you even recover from a fight like that, really? They’d both called each other's greatest passions stupid .

He thinks about all of this, and arrives at the Codlands a lot grumpier than he expected to be. Part of the young Count wants to go back home, but he knows Gem is probably there. And the rest of him doesn’t want to confront that whole ordeal just yet, so maybe being in the dumb smelly swamp empire for a week or so would be bearable; if his other option was that much worse. Maybe .

Jimmy greets him as soon as he, and the guards his father had annoyingly sent, arrive. There is a fake smile plastered across his face, and when everyone turns their back he gives Fwhip the naistest glare the cod could probably muster. The half dragon returns it with a glare of his own, and feels his tail angrily thump against the ground. Well then, this is going to be a splendid trip, since the Cod Emperor’s greeting was oh-so friendly . 

Fwhip and his guards are giving a small tour, the teeangers keeping a good distance between them and the rest of the group. The tour was uncomfortable for both of them it seemed, as Jimmy awkwardly pointed out and described most of the buildings in the empire; even with the Grimlands guards giving him death glares the whole time. Fwhip tried to pay attention, since he would be living there for the next few days or so, but found it was rather hard too. The people they passed were giving the half dragon some nasty stares, stares he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tired. He drew his wings even closer to his body as they walked, shifting uncomfortably with nearly every step. The cod beside him waved to someone else, then raised an eyebrow at the half dragon’s suffering. The dickhead. 

“Not used to getting stared at like an animal, are you?” Jimmy mutters to him, having leaned in a bit to do so. They are much too close for the young Count’s liking right now, able to feel the blonde’s breath falling on his skin..

“No.” Fwhip mutters back, shifting just an inch in the other direction. Personal space and all, especially when he was being ogled like he was some creature . “I’m not.”

“Now you know what my life feels like.” Jimmy responded, waving to someone he knew as they continued to make their way through the small town. 

Fwhip avoided everyone's gazes still, and tried to fold his wings closer to his back. “Do you deal with this everyday?” He asked, not missing how the few cod he did catch a glimpse of looked at him. It was…..a look he wasn't used to, that's for certain. 

“Yeah.” The cod answered after a moment, his response strained. Again, Fwhip had to wonder once again what went on in that damn ocean. “For a lot of reasons, yeah.”

The ginger doesn't respond, just holds back a sigh, and accepts the fact that he will be subjected to some….rather nasty looks. But if complains to Jimmy the cod will complain about his treatment in the Grimlands, so he just keeps his mouth shut and suffers in silence. Sometimes doing that is better anyways.

Fwhip follows Jimmy around in mostly silence, only giving the occasional word here and there. Partly because a good bit of the codfolk's conversations are in codlish, a language he cannot even try to understand right now. But he learns a little from what he can gather, about the people's religion, the sea gods they worship and their cultural festivities related to it. 

He learns about recipes and their foods he will never remember fully, the style of dress in the empire, how they farm and use the land's natural resources for most things, everything . He also learns a lot of little details too, like how Jimmy will have to wear this head once they appoint him as the Codfather, and how he won’t be able to take it off in public ever again after that. Jimmy mumbled something part way through, about how his mother had instructed him to be so detailed in the tour, because normally he wouldn't care so much. And well, he's doing a damn good job at it, out of fear or otherwise. He makes it a little interesting, at least. 

Their little tour is eventually interrupted by some commotion in the docks, and the two young royals have to rush off once they hear the sounds of yelling. Thankfully no one got truly hurt, other than a few bruises maybe, but one if the castle merfolk and two codfolk had gotten into a pretty heated engagement. Apparently one of them had said some nasty comment about the other species, and it had escalated from there. 

Jimmy tells him it's the fourth incident like that today, and noon has only just passed. 

Not even twenty minutes later, they have to stop an argument between one of the Grimlands guards accompanying Fwhip, and another codfolk Jimmy had been talking to prior. It was his guard who had started it, and while the future Count didn't necessarily disagree with their comments, it would not be good for any of them if a fight broke out. So he decides they're done with guards, actually, and pulls the one with him off to the side. 

“Sir,” The guard protested, surely unhappy about losing their post. “I can't just leave you here alone in an enemy empire!”

“First off, we're not technically enemies right now.” Fwhip hisses, shoving them off to wherever the other two or so Grimlands guards had been ordered to stay. “And do you think these people are gonna attack an emperor's kid? They're not that dumb.” 

The guard mutters something under their breath in response, something about him sympathizing with the fish folk, and reluctantly walks away. They know when to walk away and follow orders, but not when to shut their mouth, it seems. The half dragon glares at the back of the retreating guard, and has to stop himself from stomping back like a child might. To say the comment got under his skin would be an understatement. 

Fwhip exchanges a glance with Jimmy when he walks back over, and sees the same troubling look reflected on the young cod’s face. It seems the two of them are on the same page then, about why they are here and what they are being taught. 

They are both starting to understand the need for the marriage. Fwhip still doesn't like it, he never will, but he can at least understand why it's happening. And that is exactly why they were brought here, to see and understand their duties to the people. The duties they both do not want, yet have no say in. The duties their parents do not want to do, so now it's both of their jobs.

There's a sinking pit of despair opening up in Fwhip's gut as he realizes it, and sees the same feeling reflected in Jimmy’s eyes as well. And the feeling is persistent, it won't go away. It's the feeling that will define every thought of the future after today. 

“Pix!” Jimmy exclaims, sounding all happy and relieved. He nearly runs over towards the other, his tail basically wagging with happiness behind him as he moves. Like a puppies tail would. 

“Pix?” Fwhip parrots, confused, yet he follows the young cod regardless. Don't get him wrong, he's very happy to see the new Pixandrian King, it's been a while since their last meeting, he's just unsure of why exactly he's here. 

“Hello you two!” The Copper King says, reaching out to ruffle both of the boy's hair when they're in range. Jimmy laughs, and lets him, already well used to such affection from the man in the few times they have spoken. Fwhip lets his hair be ruined as well, but not without many confused noises. 

“I'm happy to see you but, why are you here!?” He asks, barely caring how messy his curls are now. Even if his hair was rather annoying to keep tidy. Again, he's very excited to see his friend, he just doesn't know why he is seeing him!

“He visits sometimes!” Jimmy explains, cheery. And then he leaned in closer to Fwhip, to add on quietly. Like no one was supposed to hear this, in case something bad came of it. Like Jimmy was treading some ground he wasn't supposed to around the cod and all the royal advisors hanging about. “And mum isn't giving me any help making an empire, so Pix made it his job instead.”

“Oh, okay.” The ginger mumbled, somewhat surprised at the information. He knew the Ocean Queen wasn't....a great parent, but he hadn't been expecting her to just throw her son info leadership like that. Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed unphased by it, like this stuff was normal, and happily turned his head back towards their older friend. 

“The Queen actually requested my presence, and said she wanted me to be here today specifically.” Pix said, also seeming very nonchalant about the whole neglectful parent thing. Fwhip wondered how out of the loop he was, and if Lizzie was either involved or okay with all this. Or if she even knew it was happening. 

Jimmy looked puzzled, like his mother didn't request Pix's presence a lot. Like he just showed up of his own accord, out of the kindness of his own heart. “Why?”

“I don't know.” Pix shrugged, a small smile forming on his lips. “Maybe she thinks I'll keep you both in line?” Both of the boys giggled at that suggestion, and exchanged a knowing glance. No one in the world could stop them arguing, or being individual little troublemakers. You'd either have to separate them or lock them each in an all white room to achieve such a feat. 

Not even two minutes later, like they had summoned the Devil herself, the Ocean Queen arrives. She has guards of her own trailing her as she approaches them. Fwhip is surprised when he sees her, but his two companions are not. Jimmy seems to be trying to control his facial expression, probably from scowling or something; while Pixl plasters one of those fake, polite little smiles across his lips.

“Hello, your majesty.” Pix says, with a polite dip of his head. He sounds a lot less friendly than he did on him and the Queens last meeting a few months ago, that's for sure. The Copper King has undoubtedly learned some information recently, information about what really goes on behind closed doors in the Ocean Empire. It's nothing good, either. 

“Pixlriffs, good to see you.” The Queen says, stiff as ever. In the few times Fwhip has met her, he doesn't think she's ever been relaxed. Or casual. Or just generally not nerve wracking to be around. “How has everything been going?”

“It's been going well. Your son has quite the knack for this stuff, you know.” Pix hums, casting a fond glance over his shoulder at Jimmy. The young cod does not beam up at him like one would expect him to, his face being neutral and controlled instead. Like he would be punished if he didn't. That uneasy feeling Fwhio has about the Ocean Queen is growing every second, honestly. 

The Queen flicks her gaze towards her soon for a moment, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Jimmy’s expression doesn’t shift and inch.  “Does he now…”

“Yes, especially once you let him learn what he needs to.” Pix's tone appears casual on the surface, but there is an undertone of accusation. Of weeks old frustration and annoyance with his fellow royal. It looks like the Ocean Queen is doing everything in her power to be civil right now. 

The Queens hums, her tail flicking behind her, probably not as discreet as she would like it to be. “Well. I was just here for a report and a look around. I think I'll be going now, if that's okay with you.” She hasn't even gotten the report yet, and she already wants to leave. Fwhip has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the statement, and instead forces himself to look wholly disinterested in the whole conversation. Just as people would expect him to be, after all. 

“That's perfectly fine with me, ma'am. I'm sure you're very busy indeed.” Pix responds, placing a calm hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. The cod doesn't seem to notice it, everything he does is still controlled and precise as ever. But his posture does seem to relax, just the tiniest bit. 

“Yes, busy.” The Queen responds, almost distantly. Like her mind is very far elsewhere at the moment; perhaps it is back at her Castle, where she clearly would rather be instead. “I need a word with my…child very quickly, if I may.” She adds, her eyes still trained on her son. Almost like some kind of predator. 

“Of course!” Pix's smile seems a bit more forced after that, and he slowly removes his hand off Jimmy’s shoulder. For a brief second, the young cod looks a little terrified, but he doesn't say anything at all. He just lets his mother whisk him off to the side, a few feet away, while their guests wait behind them. 

Fwhip wants to ask something, anything about what's happening, but he doesn't. Pix is…oddly stiff as they watch the two Merfolks exchange, and whatever question Fwhip has dies in his mouth. He knows not to pry when his friend gets like this, because the answer he will get will only be stony silence. The King watches the ordeal through narrowed eyes, observing Jimmy and his mothers body language as they talk. The whole ordeal seems to be a rather tense one, and Fwhip can't help but eavesdrop. Just a little bit. Though he doesn't hear much, and can only catch the last few snippets of the conversation.

The Queen crouches down next to her son, so that they are eye level. Her hands are firmly placed on his shoulders, so he cannot move or pull away. It looks like her nails are digging in, and Fwhip really hopes that's not the case. Her lips move as she whispers something, voice rising slightly with every new word. Until Fwhip doesn't even have to try too hard to overhear it anymore. And if he can hear it, so can King Pix besides him. Whatever the consequences of that are. 

“You do what you've been told, K-,” The Queen hisses, and Fwhip chooses to stop listening right about that point in the discussion. He feels like one of those words isn't for him to hear, now or ever. Like Jimmy doesn't want him to hear it. “Remember that.” 

“Yes ma'am.” Jimmy says, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor. His mother glares at him for a moment more, as if assessing him. She huffs, then loosens her grip enough for Jimmy to wiggle free. He doesn't try, and doesn’t move until he is let go fully. Jimmy only moves when she starts to walk back towards them, and follows behind the Queen more obedient than he had the first time. Whatever bad feeling Fwhip had about the ruler was now confirmed, and was taking form in a rather strong dislike. He could see why everyone else detested the woman so much, and why his mother always complained about having to deal with her. (Which was funny, considering how similar they seemed to be. But that was a train of thought for another day.) 

The Queen and Pix have a small word, and then she is off again. Fwhip pays that exchange no mind. Instead, the half dragon focuses on Jimmy; who is now just standing next to him. He seems a little zoned out, and won't respond to the small nudges Fwhip gives him. He doesn't fully relax either, not until his mother is out of sight, even though her attention had never returned to him once it left the first time. 

“You okay, Jimmy?” Fwhip mumbled, seeing the breath he let out at her departure. He doesn't really know why he did it, but the half dragon slipped a hand into the cods. It's something he does when Gem gets a little rattled, and does it without thinking. Maybe that's why he did it, because Jimmy seemed all rattled from whatever his mom had called him. Maybe it was just a habit just a habit at that point, he didn't know.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine.” The blonde answered, not making any comment in the hand holding. But he did briefly lace their fingers together, and squeezed the other's hand just a little bit. “Can you two go get something? From all the storage areas? They need to fix up some parts of the church after last week's rain…” He mumbled, now talking to Pix as well. Fwhip ignored how the ruler was looking at their hands with a small smile on his face. 

“Sure thing.” The Pixandrian says, nudging the half dragon lightly. He lets go of Jimmy’s hand more reluctantly than he thought he would. “C'mon Fwhip.” The half dragon follows, sparing only half a glance over his shoulder as they walk away. He figures Jimmy just needs a moment to regroup himself after his mother’s visit, and nothing more. He’ll probably go and help them with the Church later, if it doesn’t get too late.

He and Pix head towards said church, and ask around about what materials are needed for the repairs. Once they have a small list of that, the two royals start off to the empire’s storage area, Fwhip prepared to rummage around a probably very disorganized mess. Since storage areas tended to be just that. But it’s there that the day went further downhill, as someone had questions that they needed answers to, and subsequently started to question his young friend about it. Answers the future Count would never be able to ever give.

“Fwhip.” Pix hums out his young friend’s name after a few minutes of quiet work, scanning over the list of materials they had been given for the third time. He doesn't look up from the paper as he speaks, scanning over it still. 

“Yeah?” The ginger asks, turning to look at the older man. The Pixandrian’s tone is….more suspicious than it normally is. Or ever is. Fwhip doesn't exactly know where this is going, but he does know that he doesn't like it. 

“Are you really…interested in Jimmy?” The brunette says, the words sounding oh so innocent when they spill from his lips. To Fwhip they are one of the worst things a man could say to him.

The young Count feels his hand stiffen over whatever he's holding at the question, and what also feels like all his blood turning to ice and dread pools in his stomach. Still he tries to stay calm and controlled when he speaks. Like the question never bothered him. “What do you mean?”

Pix hums again before he speaks, humming one of the tunes he likes to hum when working. “Well there's been rumors about you two being a couple. That's something you don't see everyday, two young royals pairing up…of their own accord.” The Pixandrian says, his tone only holding curiosity. And some mild suspicion buried deep down, to anyone whose head isn't clogged with fear. To Fwhip this is the scariest conversation he will ever, ever have with this man. “I knew you two didn't particularly get along before, so I've just been intrigued about what I've been hearing.”

“Well, you've been around us all day,” Fwhip shrugs, trying to act nonchalant the best he can. He doesn't think it's working very well. “What do you think?” 

“I think you're acting like they are true, in a way.” The Copper King says, and finally turns his head to look at the young half dragon. His gaze is not met like he perhaps expected to be.

“Why'd you even ask in the first place? It isn't really your business.” He huffs, having turned back to the materials he was sorting through a while ago. Fwhip decides to ignore the piercing blue eyes burning holes into his backside for the next few minutes. 

“I know it's not, trust me.” Pix reassures, finally finding some of the materials they need. Fwhip is so off-put by this whole conversation, he knew looking for whatever he previously had been would soon be pointless. He already wanted to leave the storage buildings as soon as possible anyways. “Jimmy just informed me about the deal between your two kingdoms, and I wondered if it came with any strings attached. He didn't seem to be happy about it when he told me.”

“And then I was here today?” Fwhip asked, hand tensely resting over some type of wooden plank that was probably on the list. Probably.

Pix hummed in quiet confirmation. “And then you were here today.”

Fwhip let out a small sigh, and decided he could tell a half truth. It wouldn't hurt to spill some of the basic stuff, not as long as he was vague about it.“My parents thought that us spending time together would be a good idea after the deal, since we used to argue a lot.”

“Did it turn into something more?” Pix asked, genuinely curious. Because he truly cared about them. Both of them. It's what made walking on eggshells around the subject so hard, lying to the people who wanted nothing more than to help. (Some of the very few people who could actually help them too, no less.) 

The ginger blushed at that, and averted his gaze to the side. Goddammit why was he blushing. He shouldn't be blushing over a stupid fishboy that he hated. “Maybe.”

He felt Pix’s warm smile on his back, and relaxed slightly under it. His smile always had that effect, even in the hard moments like this. “Well if it did, I'm happy for you two.”

“And how do you know it didn't?” Fwhip asked, even though he barely dared to do so. Even if the possible answer scared the life out of him. 

“I know when you're lying to me, young Fwhip. You're not very good at it.” Pix repsonded, which, yeah, he was right about all that. Fwhip wasn't the best liar in the world, and the Pixandrian had known him for far too long. Pix had seen more of his horrible lies than anyone else had, other than maybe his sister. “But I also know when to keep my mouth shut.”

“Could you….tell me about cod history sometime?” Fwhip mutters, a little embarrassed that he has to ask such a thing. Especially to Pix, who doesn’t even live anywhere near the ocean. He is just making the correct assumption about how well read the man is about everything.

“Why not ask Jimmy, or Lizzie?” Pix inquires, handing him some supplies to carry back. So it looks like he did more than he actually did, and wasn’t just the Grimlands dead weight. Probably. At last that’s why Fwhip thought he did so, if he just didn’t need help. Ya know, the far more likely reason out of those two.

“Jimmy doesn’t like talking about it, I think. Plus he seems lost on how everything works still. And Lizzie doesn’t get to see me much.” Fwhip explains with a shrug, taking the items he's handed. It's quite a heavy load of stuff, that's for sure, and he has to wonder how bad the damages to the church truly were. 

“Yes, I will. One day.” Pix agrees, starting out of the storage area and back towards the damaged building. Fwhip follows after him, stumbling a little under the weight of his supplies. 

“Thanks.” The half dragon mumbled, taking longer strides so he could keep up with his older friend. Once Pixl noticed this, however, he did slow his pace down. “Do you…do you know where Jimmy is?” He asked after a moment, feeling the redness start to flood his face. This wasn’t helping the earlier assumptions, that’s for sure.

“I think he went back to his shack for the day.” Pix hummed after a thoughtful moment, before giving his younger friend a teasing look. “Why? You miss him already?”

“No.” Fwhip muttered, quiet and embarrassed. He knew the Pixandrian was gonna tease him about his “ crush ” for forever now. Dangit. “And thanks.”

“You're welcome.” Pix said, looking like he wanted to ruffle the half dragon's hair, but couldn't for once. Fwhip appreciated the sentiment regardless, and was sure he'd get another head ruffle as soon as possible. “Now give those back to me, so you can go see your little boyfriend.”

“ B-Boyfriend!? He's not my-” Fwhip stammered out, his wings puffing out behind him on instinct. He was sure his face was as red as his hair by now, the flush having reached the tips of his ears. Pix did nothing but giggle at his own successful quip, and watch as the young royal struggled to regain his former composure. “..Are you sure you can carry all this? I don't have to go…”

Pix shakes his head, and reaches out to take the stuff from the young half dragon. “I'll be fine, Fwhip. I've carried a lot worse in my day.” He hums, and Fwhip slowly starts to hand his share of the materials over. “Besides, I think you have something to talk about.” And well, he is right about that. There is something he wants to tell Jimmy about….

“Right, um.” Fwhip says, all of the materials now out of his hands and into Pix’s. He was still worried about the other carrying all that weight, but knew the other would give him the exact same response again if he protested. “Thank you, again.”

“Anytime, now run along. Jimmy’s shack is just by the docks.” Pix said, managing to nudge him off in that direction. Fwhip huffed, threw yet another thank you over his shoulder as he started his return trip to the docks. It was a little tricky to find his way back, and he had to deal with quite a few nasty stares as he wandered around the swamp. But eventually, the half dragon does spot the shack eventually. And it is indeed a shack, too small to be called a house, and it’s not particularly pretty either, so of course it’s Jimmy’s. Once he sees it, he beelines for the door, and slips inside as soon as he isn’t fumbling with the lock. “Pix just asked about us.” Fwhip said, locking the door behind them as quickly as he can. The half dragon leaned against it too, for extra measure. He distantly hoped no one walked by and heard them, because that would be extra, extra bad. “He asked if I was actually into you.”

Jimmy’s head shot in his direction, eyes wide like a baby deer’s. He was standing halfway across the room when Fwhip entered, doing who knows what, and stopped it as soon as the words processed in his little fish brain. “Did you tell him?” The cod asked, clearly fighting back the fear in his voice. A small tinge of sympathy went through Fwhip for a moment, but then he pushed it right back down again.

“I wanted to, but I didn't.” He said, now moving off the door. The half dragon made sure it was locked before he did so, and moved closer to where Jimmy was standing. Both of their tails flicked across the ground in near sync, anxious and worried.

“Thank cod.” Jimmy mumbled, running a hand over his face in momentary relief. He hugged his arms to his chest again, and a frown settled onto his face. One that wouldn’t really leave for the rest of the day, rather unfortunately for the blonde.

Fwhip gave a small sigh of his own, and a  nonchalant shrug to accompany it as well. To make it seem like he cared a little less than he did or something. Even if the amount he cared was pretty small to begin with. “I figured your mom would have your head if I did. Even if I really, really trust him.”

“So someone’s onto us?” Jimmy asked, hugging his arms tighter to his chest. 

The half dragon let out a huff, and pretended not to notice when he did that. Like he did everytime, even when it was a pretty noticeable quirk of the cod’s. “He even asked if they arranged a marriage.”

“Oh no….” The blonde mutters, and Fwhip feels the same dread that is in Jimmy’s voice. He feels it very deep down in bones at the moment, and knows its the kinda dread that won’t ever go away.

The both of them are….decently terrified of what will happen if the news is broken suddenly, and not slowly overtime like they planned. Fwhip is scared of what the people will say, what all his salmonfolk friends would think. What the people working in his family's manor would say to him and to his father. And that fear is just over the current plan, let alone whatever would happen if the truth was revealed. Jimmy, as he'd admitted before one night, is deathly terrified of his mother's reaction; more so than any merfolk or codfolk's. Especially if the marriage doesn’t go as planned. He says the Ocean Queen does not like it when she doesn't get her way, and Fwhip feels like he has the emotional scars to prove it too. 

There is also a new sense of duty tying them both down after today. Duty to their kingdoms, their people, their parents. Duty to a lot of people. Duty to the world and the peace this arrangement would undoubtedly bring. Duty to the lives and the grief that would be spared by avoiding war. There was….a lot of duty riding on this, and it had taken them years to realize that fact. Now that they had, it had become something of its own heavy burden on both of the boys shoulders’.

“We have to sell it better.” Fwhip said after a moment, shuffling his weight from side to side. He didn’t know what to do, standing in this house talking to Jimmy. But he needed to do something, something with his hands or his body. Something to get all that nervous energy out before it exploded.

“I know,” Jimmy agrees, and looks like he’s about to start pacing. The ginger really hopes he won’t do that, because that would be stupid and pointless and annoying. Like almost every other thing the blonde does, actually. “But how do we do that?”

Fwhip hums, turning the idea over in his head for a bit. Even if he knows there’s only one logical solution to it, a solution he doesn’t want to admit. But he says it anyway, just to get it out there and out of his thoughts. So it won’t linger in the back of his mind like a little pest. “Acting like a couple, maybe…but.”

“We both don't want to.” Jimmy mumbled, sparing a glance at him. There was some emotion in his eyes, and Fwhip didn’t even dare to put a name to it. There were a lot of things he wasn’t daring to do, or didn’t like doing today it seemed. And this was just yet another one.

“Yeah.” The ginger mutters, glancing back at the blonde. He blinks in surprise, finding that they are…..very close. Close enough to touch. The cod says nothing, just blinks back at him all wide eyed.

For a moment, as he and Jimmy just stare at each other, Fwhip lets his mind wander. He wonders what it would be like to kiss him, just a little bit. He wonders what it would feel like, if it would feel like anything at all. His eyes flick downwards, and wonders if Jimmy’s lips are soft, or if they would be rough and horrible to feel against his own. He wonders if they’ll ever share that moment together.

“What are you staring at?” Jimmy says quietly after a minute. Fwhip jumps in surprise, feeling a blush start to spread across his cheeks. The half dragon moves his eyes away from the others lips, and focuses them on somewhere else in the room. He…..didn't know why he was thinking that. He shouldn't be thinking about kissing Jimmy. 

“Nothing.” He muttered, tail flicking slightly in embarrassment. “It's nothing.” If he wasn't mistaken, Jimmy's face was also starting to turn a bit red as well,  and his eyes had started to wander too. Meaning that they had…..maybe been thinking similar things. Just maybe. Maybe he wasn't totally weird for that one then. 

The cod doesn't give a verbal response, cheeks a decent shade of pink. Instead he gestures for Fwhip to sit down somewhere, and the half dragon does so. He practically curls himself into a little ball, taking up residency on one of the couch cushions. The left one by the arm, so he can further sink into the material and be miserable. Because today has been pretty shit, generally, and he just really wants to go home. But unfortunately, a certain someone can't understand social cues, and won't just let him suffer in peace. 

“So, why was your dad so eager to get you out of the house?” Jimmy says, plopping himself down next to Fwhip on the rather small couch. He curls his tail around his legs, making a pointed effort to keep all his limbs in his own personal space as best he can. The sentiment is somewhat appreciated. 

Fwhip looks up, shame already starting to form in the bottom of his gut. “You heard about that?” He mumbled, resisting the urge to hide his face like a child would. He’s not going to do that, especially not around the dumb codboy , because he’s not a child.

“Yep.” Jimmy says, leaning his head against the back of the couch, his gaze now foxed on the brown ceiling that seemed so far above the both of them. “Your dad was so eager he even surprised my mum when they talked. She said he was never that…. happy about getting rid of his kid for a few weeks.” 

“We had…..family issues. To put it lightly.” Fwhip gives a brief explanation, figuring the other can probably guess that much. Handing over information would probably shut him up as well, to be fair. “And now that's an excuse for dumb arrangement shit to go on.” 

“No, I think this visit was always going to happen.” Jimmy shakes his head, and gives the most sensible explanation Fwhip thinks has ever come out of his mouth. Especially about their…. situation . “Letting your child spend a few weeks in your enemy's land is something they wouldn't do, not if there wasn't a political thing behind it.” 

“It makes the peace treaty seem more believable when it gets announced, you know? It makes it seem like we've been genuinely repairing relations for the past few years.” The cod’s eyes stay distant, and trained on the wall as he speaks. Like he’s known the reality of all this the whole time, and it’s been choking him to death. “Even though it's all fake.” 

“When did you get so smart?” Fwhip snorts, considering all that. And yeah, he’s right. Not only does that make sense, it’s also something both their parents would do. The ginger knows that without a doubt, and it’s part of what makes the whole argument so horrible. That their parents don’t care enough to not use them as scapegoats, and don’t care enough to solve all their kingdoms' problems literally any other way that the cruelest and easiest one presented to them. 

“A lot of stolen books on diplomacy.” Jimmy mutters, and Fwhip files that away for later, so he can ask why the idiot has to steal books when he’s gonna be the leader of a whole damn country. Even if the answer is as simple as his mom being a horrible person, but still, the ginger likes knowing details about things. “But I'm here to talk about you, not our stupid arrangement.”

“....Me and Gem had a fight. A pretty bad one.” He admits with a sigh, and buries his head back into his arms. It’s easier to talk this way, if he doesn’t have to face the person he’s being forced to open up to. (Forced, like he couldn’t just cuss Jimmy out and be left alone afterwards…)

Jimmy lets out an understanding hum, their shoulders now somewhat touching. Fwhip pointedly decides to ignore that. “Is that why my last visit was canceled?”

“Yep.” Fwhip hums, popping the p. He really doesn't wanna talk about this. Especially not with Jimmy, in an unfamiliar empire no less. But he guesses he kinda has to for a little bit, well that’s what he’s been telling himself. Because Jimmy won’t shut up about it if he doesn’t, probably, and he’s annoying as fuck all the time.

“I get it. Me and Lizzie always argue.” The blonde said, sounding so sure of himself. Like this fight wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen to the ginger, like he could’ve known that without being told so. “Gem'll come around, eventually.”

“How do you know it was her fault?” Fwhip asks, tail curled tighter around himself. He isn’t even sure if it's Gem’s fault anymore; honestly it feels like it's more his fault than anything. He had been the one to start the argument, after all. But maybe it's none of their faults, maybe it's their parents, Fwhip doesn't know. All he knows is that he kinda wants to cry whenever he thinks about the fight. He knows that he feels guilty. He knows he loves Gem so fucking much and that fighting with her hurts, but being at home and dealing with their family also really, really hurts. 

Part of him thinks he just wants his childhood back. When they were both small and whole and blissfully unaware of all the problems yet to come. 

“I just have a feeling our sisters are very similar. That's all.” Jimmy says, now fully leaning on him. Fwhip is still ignoring it, and couldn’t decide if the touch was annoying or comforting at the moment. He didn’t want to find out either.

“You're an observant little fuck, aren't you?” He snorts, finally looking up again.

“So I've been told.” The cod holds back a small giggle, the happiest he’d sounded all day, before and after this moment. “We're going back to the Castle before nightfall, by the way, and we'll be back out here almost everyday.” He adds, moving away from the half dragon. Fwhip tries not to miss the contact of their shoulders too much.

“Is this how you live now? Because it kinda sucks man.” He huffs, uncurling himself slowly. He can’t imagine having to basically run an empire, on top of living at his horrible house and dealing with his horrible family. All while being barely sixteen as well….

Sometimes, it was very, very, very hard not to feel bad for Jimmy. To not feel a kind of companionship with their horrible situations all the time. It was very hard.

“I know. But I like the swamp more, so it's okay.” Jimmy mumbles quietly, and it sounds like he’s lying. He then nudges Fwhip a little harshly, and nearly topples him off the couch. It seems the feelings talk is complete over then, and it’s back to business as usual. “Now get up, we don't leave the swamp after sunset, and the afternoon’s already halfway over.”

“Fine. Bossy .” Fwhip huffed, and managed to get to his feet. He followed the other across the small shack and out of the door, into probably a horrible first night at the Prisma Palace, with many more to come after it. Jimmy said nothing as they walked and were brought back to his home, not a single word, and it was all he needed to say.

#ron.writing #ron.fic #jimmy solidarity #fwhimmy #empires smp #ily (im not supossed too) #fwhip #empiresshipping #empires shipping