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personasintro · 1 year

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Halloween Special | Mutual Help

A part of Mutual Help series! | photo credit

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language

genre: fluff

word count: 2k+

a/n: this has no plot, basically zero storyline as well but I still hope you enjoy reading this & get more insight into their friendship! this is from the time before their deal!

“Who owns this house again?”

Can it be even called that? Where you and your friends are currently at is more like a mansion. One you barely get to see in person. The rich neighborhood and fancy cars around is enough of a clue that whoever lives in this mansion is freaking rich. It's the type you only see in movies.

“Taehyung's latest fuck.” Jimin responds, looking around the huge entry hall filled with people dressed in different costumes.

“She's not the latest.” Taehyung beside you rolls his eyes at Jimin, correcting him.

“Does she know that?” you question, met with an amused grin.

“No, why would she?” Confusion curls his features. He's wearing an orange overall, an unmistaken prisoner. “She fucks around too.”

It's not like Taehyung sleeps around with the same person. Not that you know much about his sex life, despite he's not shy to talk about it at all. He prefers to do one night stands. It's easier that way, he says.

“And she still invited you and your friends?”

He shoots you a toothy grin. “I guess she couldn't get enough of this cock.”

“Ew, what the fuck!” you exclaim, scrunching your nose as you push him away from you. Taehyung barely budges, laughing at the look of disgust on your face while Jimin rolls his eyes.

Taehyung refused to put a mask on or paint on his face. “I won't be covering this handsome face.”

That's what he told you when you first saw him. His costume is not exactly creative, but he does look good. But that's because he's already handsome and could pull off anything, not just anyone has this privilege.

“I need to look hot, chicks love this kind of costume.” You remember his voice in a cab on your way here.

As for Jimin, he chose more of a flashy costume and unlike Taehyung, he didn't mind to paint his face. Considering you've painted his face, you will take full credit for how good he looks. No need to mention you've painted it based on a picture he showed you. But still! It's your hands that created this masterpiece.

Jimin isn't one of those scary clowns wearing a big curly red wig. He has stuck to his blond hair, slicked it back while wearing what seems like an ancient blouse and pants. If he wasn't your friend, you would definitely think of him as a hot creature. The few eyes and looks your friends have managed to steal says it all.

And you?

You've had the hardest time to come up with any costume. You didn't want to spend too much money on something you wear for one night. Taehyung's ideas were all… too much.

“You should be a cat woman. You know, the one from Batman.”

One of his ideas.

“Be a sexy nurse, everyone loves that.”

It's over done a lot. Every year.

Despite not caring about Halloween parties at all – because you wouldn't come if it wasn't for Jimin and Taehyung – you wanted to look good and not wear one of those cliché costumes that people wear every year. You've seen two “nurses” already and you've been here for five minutes.

“Be a police woman. We can have matching outfits.”

But then…

“No, actually let's not do that. People are gonna think we're together and I don't want to be cockblocked that night.”

It was a nice idea but coming to a party as a police woman just wasn't the one.

“Be a witch. That would go with your personality.”

He joked and earned a slap to his shoulder.

Trying to stay true to the budget, you improvised and came up with your own costume. Okay, you might've bought a dress for this but it was on sale! Overall the costume didn't cost much. You've put some fake blood onto the dress and the corner of your lips. You're supposed to look like a bride with a spooky twist. It's not exactly original either but so far, you haven't seen anyone else dressed like this. You know you could do better if you truly wanted, get more creative. But there's also a budget you tried to stick to. Plus, you've done your make-up nicely, dark but nice.

“Alright, excuse me now, my friends. I see her and I'm gonna say hi.” He brushes past you, already shooting a wide grin toward a girl you suppose lives in this mansion.

“Do you think he's gonna fuck her again?” you ask before thinking. “Actually, don't answer that.”

Jimin laughs beside you, brushing his fingers through his hair. “I wouldn't put it past him.”

“Want a drink?”

You agree, a drink sounds nice. You don't know anyone here. Taehyung and Jimin are only people you know. And considering Taehyung just totally ditched you as soon as he saw a girl he fucked, you're left with Jimin.

“You can go too.” You make sure to tell Jimin when you make your way to the kitchen. The size of it is bigger than the place you live in.

“Don't be silly,” Jimin chuckles. “We're gonna have fun together. Tae will join us for sure later.”

You don't want to think what he's going to do until then.

“Jimin, I'm not a kid. You don't have to babysit me.”

“I'm not babysitting you,” He frowns, mixing the two of you a drink before he hands you one of the plastic cups. “There are too many people. I'm not saying it's dangerous here, but leaving you alone wouldn't sit well with me.”

You do appreciate his worry. Too bad Jungkook couldn't come. Not that spending time with Jimin and Taehyung isn't fun. But you were hoping he could join you too. You've never really attended a Halloween party before. It would be so much fun if all of you could be here.

After finishing your drink and chatting for a while, you get another one and move toward the living room where the lights are turned off, swapped for some party lights. It looks like a proper party here. There are people dancing. You and Jimin find yourself laughing at some silly costumes. You saw a banana costume and someone wearing a horse mask.

You have a good time. Someone Jimin knows joins you for a moment, one of his friends whose name you unfortunately forgot. It's not your fault though, the music is loud and you felt like an idiot to ask him again.

Jimin goes to grab you another drink, telling you to not move with a warning gaze, as if you would run away. Again, you appreciate the worry.

It's not even a minute later when some guy approaches you, obviously already in a good mood and tipsy enough to think he's the hot deal. You politely tell him to fuck off, ignoring the little scoff he gives you. You didn't come here to flirt or hook up with someone. Maybe you shouldn't scare away everyone. It's not exactly everyone though. You just don't like those types of guys who–

“Boo!”

You almost jump out of your skin and curse loudly, palm slapping against your chest as you turn around and see… a Spiderman?

You frown, guard up until the person suddenly takes off the mask and reveals your best friend.

“Jungkook?”

His hair is ruffled from the mask, a bunny grin attached to his lips as he laughs at your reaction.

“What–what are you doing here?”

He said he couldn't come because he had work. A Halloween party is not something you decline the money for, you completely understood that.

“We rescheduled the shoot,” he answers.

“But–wow. Why didn't you say you were coming?”

He grins again, cheekily adding; “Wanted to surprise you.”

You haven't seen him for two weeks or so. Everyone has been busy, Jungkook the most and last weekend you were hanging out with Jimin and Taehyung, he went on a weekend away with Kiko. They had it planned for weeks. So it's nice to see him in the flesh.

“Look at you,” he beams, staring you up and down. “A bloody bride.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “It's such a shitty costume.”

“Don't say that,” he laughs, “You look amazing.”

“I should've tried to be more creative. Just so you know, I could've nailed it. I have this costume in my mind, but I wasn't about to spend a fortune on one night.”

“Smart,” he muses. “What is this costume?”

“I'm not telling you,” you cheekily remark. “But look at you,”

Jungkook eyes himself, looking up with a smile.

His costume makes sense. You've watched Spiderman movies together (all of them) so many times. It's one of your favorite superheroes, both of you Marvel fans, but it's definitely Jungkook's favorite.

The lights aren't too bright but looking at him, you can tell his costume is not one of the cheap ones. It hugs his body perfectly, showing his figure and god–it feels sinful to look from his waist down. You can't do that. He glances behind, turning his body slightly before his attention is back to you. But it's not quick enough for you to not notice his perk ass. But then… Jungkook has always been built differently. He has worked hard for those muscles.

“Stop it,” he laughs at your words, refusing to grow shy. “Behave.”

“I'm not even gonna ask how much it cost.”

“Don't,” he assures you. “Too much for one stupid night.”

You both laugh. “You had a great opportunity to show up as a bunny.”

Jungkook playfully rolls your eyes at your comment, scrunching his nose a little. “Nah. I didn't want to be cute.”

“What vibe you were going for?” you tease.

“The hot superhero, of course.”

“God, you and Tae are the same.” you comment jokingly.

“Where is he anyway? I saw Jimin from a distance.”

“Oh, most likely having his tongue in some girl's throat I guess. Or worse.”

Jungkook laughs at the disgust you show, flicking your nose softly as you pull away. “I'm not even gonna ask.”

“Don't.” you hum, causing him to laugh. “I'm still bummed out you didn't come as a bunny though. You have a face for it.”

Jungkook throws his head back in laughter, shaking his head.

“No, I didn't mean it as an insult! You would look cute as a bunny.”

“We can do that next year. You could be a carrot.”

“Oh god, I'm shutting up now.”

He nudges you, causing you to do the same.

“Kook! Hi! You came!” Jimin joins you, hugging Jungkook right after he hands you your drink.

“Wait, you knew he's gonna come?” you ask. “And you didn't tell me?”

“Kook wanted to surprise you.” Jimin shrugs.

“Yeah, wanted to surprise you.” Jungkook muses, stealing the cup from you as he sips on it.

“Hey!”

“Shush, woman.”

You gasp. Jungkook's biceps bulge as he takes another sip of your drink. “Don't you shush me, Jeon.”

Jungkook gives you an amused smirk, turning his face back to Jimin who speaks again. “Where's Kiko?”

“Oh, she's not here. She had to stay overtime at work, too tired to come here anyway.” Jungkook answers.

“Jungkook-ah!”

Taehyung comes like a hurricane, bumping into a few people as they give him a dirty look, some of them changing their expression right after they spot him. You want to roll your eyes again.

“Let me guess, you knew too.”

“Knew what?” Taehyung asks, confused.

“He didn't.”

“Knew what?” Taehyung asks louder this time.

“That Kook is gonna come tonight.”

“Wait, you knew he's gonna come?”

“Yeah,” Jimin shrugs, “You have a big mouth. You would ruin the surprise.”

Taehyung gasps, “You guys act like it's a big secret.”

“It's not,” Jungkook laughs. “But we didn't want to take any chances.”

“Yah!” Taehyung exclaims. “Let's get drunk.” he adds more calmly.

All of you laugh, making your way to the kitchen. For the rest of the night, you hang out with your friends, savoring the moments. Even when Jimin throws up in front of the mansion in some fancy cut out bush, while Taehyung records him. You shake your head, but not be able to hide your own giggles. Jungkook does the same, holding up Jimin so he doesn't fall into the bush.

It's one of the many memories of tonight that joins the other ones you got to spend and experience with your precious friends.

#btswritingcafe #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

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favoritejohn · 3 years

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that's.... the sexiest vampire i've ever seen....

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bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

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Your headcannons for a corrupting with the Kuroo one. I was wondering if you would ever do a one shot, Drabble, or another headcannon of what Kuroo does to force his sister into submission? 👉👈

Ah yes, more onee-san corruption. I will probably not be doing a pt. 3 like Bokuto’s (sorry Kuroo stans)

Warnings: incest, gagging (via tie), handcuffs, blackmail, dubcon/noncon, alcohol, smoking, manipulation, abuse

Kuroo Corrupting Onee-san

With the new living arrangements with your brother, Tetsurō, you had life much easier. With the kids having a good role model in their life, you’re free to relax. The best way to relax, in your opinion, is to drink a glass of wine while relaxing in a steaming hot bath. You’ll admit, at first it was rare. A bath to relax in once a week, a glass of wine accompanying you. The bottle hidden under the bed in the guest room, away from Tetsurō’s eyes. He didn’t like drinking, nor did he like it when you drank.

Then it changed. A glass of wine per week turned into three glasses per week, the it became a glass per day. You didn’t bother hiding it from Tetsurō. He wasn’t your boss, your father, or even your older brother. You controlled your life, not him. Even if he was kind enough to let you stay at his luxurious house, there was no reason for him to make you feel like you needed to hide stuff. You had some extra money, after all, since Tetsurō dealt with the bills and funeral costs.

Tetsurō, on the other hand, believed you to be acting out because you’re too free. With your life of being controlled for so long, it’s no wonder why you’re suddenly drinking freely and sneaking a smoke at night on the porch or balcony. After Tetsurō goes into his room, 30 minutes later you exit your given room and slink outside to light a cigarette. It disgusts him how much you’ve changed from the sister he remembers. The one he loves, the one he wishes never left. His decision to prevent you from going down the same path as everyone else in the family was to set in restrictions.

“No more alcohol? Smoking? Tetsurō, I’m not a child,” you argue. With the blanket of darkness upon the house, both of your daughters had already been tucked in and were sound asleep.

“You may not be a child, but you need to be responsible. I won’t be able to help you if you act like this,”

“Tetsu, this isn’t what I signed up for. I needed help getting back on my feet. If you’re gonna to act like my ex, I’ll leave,”

“Your- You think I’m like that piece of shit?” The anger in his voice freezes you to the spot, glare directed right at you. “I’m trying to help. You’re damaging your relationships and yourself,”

“Tetsu, you’re controlling me. If you’re gonna act like this, I’m gonna leave. You and Kouki are one and the same. I don’t need my children to deal with another pathetic excuse for a-”

Your sentence was cut by a sharp slap, the noise echoing loud in your ears as blood rushes to your face, hot where he touched. The stinging residue of his slap brought tears to your eyes, betrayal evident in glossy orbs.

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not the bad guy,” his voice is low, cracking as he tries not to let his face crack. You grit your teeth, anger boiling through your blood.

“How dare you fucking-!” You’re once more shut down, Tetsurō‘s hand on your mouth as you struggle. He’s much stronger than you, not to mention larger and more broad. He’s able to easily maneuver you down on your knees, vulnerable as he drags you over to his desk. Your struggling helps to loosen his grip a bit, but his hand stays on your mouth. Once he shuts a drawer, your mouth is free as he secures you to the drawer. “Tetsu, enough! Stop!”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” His voice gets louder as he loosens his tie and wraps it around your mouth. The fabric is quickly soaked with your saliva and your screams are muffled. “Fucking finally. This isn’t what I wanted, you must understand that. This is the best for you, making sure you’re not setting a bad example for your daughters!”

A muffled response is all he gets as an answer, your noises of struggling and squirming making his guilt worsen. As he starts to regret his decision, panic settling in as he realizes that he is, indeed, acting like your abusive ex. He knows he’s doing it for the best results, he’s doing it for your own good, but the gnawing feeling of knowing he’s no better is still there. The intention is different, the actions are the same. As you struggle, he comes to that realization.

But there’s another voice.

You’re helpless before him, the sister he’s been in love with since before she left him. As your skin shows more and more underneath the blouse, he notices the darkened marks. The only signs of an affair. The evidence makes his blood boil again, knowing you’re out whoring yourself instead of being a good mother. You’re just as bad as you were when you were 17, sleeping with random guys just because of the thrill. If he had known...

“This is poor behavior and you need to be properly reminded you have other responsibilities. If you wanna be a slut so badly, then so be it. You wanna do harmful things, then so be it,” his voice is shaking, but his hands are not. Popping open the buttons on your blouse, you struggle once more. With the handcuffs around your wrists, keeping you chained to the locked desk, you’re completely helpless as he undos the shirt. Once he gets it off and down your arms, he realizes the position you’re in. It’s a bit hard to have access to your body when you’re chained standing up to a drawer.

The handcuffs are released and forgotten, falling to the floor as he keeps your hands behind your back. “You make so much as a peep, I’ll make you regret it. Starting with your precious brats,” he sneers, halting your movements. You don’t struggle, letting him lead you from his office to his bedroom. It’s not far, but you pass the hallway where your children’s rooms are. It’s tempting, the urge to scream and beg for them to call the police or get help from a neighbor, but you don’t. Tetsurō may be family, but he isn’t a liar. He doesn’t bluff. He’ll do what he needs to do to get what he wants, even if that’s covering up a crime. The hallway fades from view and in place is Tetsurō’s bedroom, the door opening only to shut and lock.

“This isn’t how I expected my teenage fantasies to come true, but there’s no going back,” he pulls you towards the bed, letting you fall and bounce on the mattress. It’s a luxurious king sized bed, Western-styled, similar to the other beds in the house. Red silk sheets paint a romantic scene, your bra-clad chest for his viewing pleasure as he strips down. With each piece of clothing stripped from his body, you’re free to admire how much he’s changed since you last saw him. With the three year difference between you, he was just beginning high school when you left. Now he’s toned and tall, muscles flexing and rippling with each movement until he’s down to his boxers.

When his hands go to stripping you down, you don’t fight back. Your will to fight was stripped from your previous resistance. With the looming threat of your daughters getting hurt, you can’t find it in your body to put up even a bit of resistance. When you’re down to nothing, you shiver as his predatory gaze lingers on the evidence of your recent affair, a man you met over a dating app that happened to be a pathetic excuse of a man and a lousy lay. With a growl in his throat, your legs are pried open to Tetsurō’s heavy gaze, a sickening feeling in your stomach as he licks his lips. The boxers he wears are discarded, the fabric useless as he palms his hard cock. You’re staring, you know you are, but he’s much bigger and thicker than you expected. With beads of precum bubbling at his slit, he moves it to rub against your pussy lips.

“Tetsurō, please, don’t do this,” you shiver, covering your chest as you move your legs. He’s quick, pinning them to your chest as he applies weight. The feeling of being crushed is all you can think about, knowing he’s keeping you restrained in a brutish way. He doesn’t answer you, glare on the way his cock looks between your folds. Once he feels a bit of slick build up, he pumps his cock with your slick, sticky translucent strands covering his shaft and his hand.

It’s sudden, his cock slipping right into your heat. It has a moan slipping out, toes curling as he sinks into you. His own groan had you clenching around him, a sexual sound that you’d never expect from your brother. Hissing, he rocks his hips into yours until each inch disappears into your cunt.

“Tetsu, please,” you beg, hands gently pushing at his shoulders. “You can still back out,”

“If you’re so desperate for a fuck and some dick, then I’ll give it to you. Disciplining is the first step in obedience,” he grunts, keeping your knees to your chest as he thrusts into you. Your head is thrown back, the feeling of him rubbing every sensitive spot inside you has your orgasm building faster than you expected. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long, taking back what was taken from me. Thinking you can go off with whoever, not anymore. Not while I’m here. You’re mine, all mine,”

With his confession ringing in your ears, his thumb goes to your clit and has your vision dotting. A muffled scream of his name, your hand covering the noise, comes as you cream on his cock, sticky white fluid on the base of his cock. He doesn’t stop nor hesitate in his thrusts, putting more force behind each pump as tears stream down your cheeks, lungs burning from the position.

“One more. Come on, nee-san, give me one more,” he encourages, fingers swirling around your clit and pinching the sensitive area. Legs tense as they shake, vision going black as your eyes roll with the force of your second orgasm. With a groan, Tetsurō finishes himself inside. His seed swishes inside you, coating your walls and spurting our when he pulls himself free of your hole. He’s not aiming to get you pregnant, oh no. He wants obedience.

Best way to do that is assert his dominance in your life, he thinks, as he positions himself to enter you once more.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #BB.Kinky #BB.Dark #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon #Mr. Tetsurō #Kuroo.Spice #kuroo x reader #BB.Requests #tw.incest #tw.alcohol #tw.smoking #tw.blackmail #tw.manipulation

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

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This is War - A Crack Fic

All the chaotic, horny energy today had to be channelled somewhere, right?

You can read the fic here on ao3 too :)

Central park was a vision to behold. There were no mundanes within sight. The warlocks had made sure to glamour the entire area just for today.

“We are not shadowhunters,” Ragnor had said. “We don’t half ass things.”

He of course had left immediately after securing the parameter saying he didn’t want to be involved in another one of Magnus’ childish squabbles.

“Welcome everyone,” Simon said, standing on a podium hadn’t been there before. Where was that from?

“Why is he wearing a robe?” Helen whispered to her wife. Aline just shrugged.

“For far too long we have been trying to settle this debate,” Simon said in a deep voice that was not that deep. “But today, we must settle on an answer.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Can we get to the good part?”

“Jace, you promised you’ll let me have my moment!” Simon hissed at him and then cleared his throat. “Today we will decide the most pressing crisis of our time. Who broke the coffee maker in the Lightwood-Bane household?”

“Wasn’t me,” Magnus shrugged. “If I did, then I would have fixed it immediately. It was obviously Alec.”

“Liar!” Alec gasped. “I love coffee. I love that coffee maker. Why would I break it?”

“Well, to love is to destr-” Jace spoke up.

“Honey, not now,” Clary shushed him.

“Listen, the kids can’t obviously reach the coffee maker yet,” Magnus pointed out. “And I’m not the one who takes out my frustration on inanimate objects. I mean we all know what happened to the kettle in the institute.”

There was a soft murmur from the shadowhunters of the New York institute.

“I WAS HAVING A BAD DAY!” Alec argued.

“Just admit you broke the coffee maker, Alec,” Magnus said.

“I didn’t do it!” Alec replied. “You’ve always been jealous of the coffee maker.”

Magnus snorted. “Jealous? Me? Pfft. You’re the one who is obsessed enough with the darn thing to name it.”

“Treat lightly, Magnus,” Alec said. “Charles is already dead. Why would you-”

“ENOUGH!” Simon said into the microphone. When did he get that? “Like I said, this childish argument has gone for too long. Today we will settle it like the civilized adults that we are.”

Simon bent down and picked up a giant gun.

“PAINTBALL FIGHT, Y’ALL!” he yelled.

Everybody started cheering – with way too much enthusiasm for a Monday morning.

“Alright. Magnus, Alec – whoever loses the game will agree that they broke the coffee maker, and we will put this whole thing behind us and move on. Do you agree to these terms?”

Magnus and Alec looked at each other and then nodded at Simon.

“Alright!” Simon grinned. “Pick your teams!”

Little Rafe ran towards Magnus.

Alec gasped. “Betrayed by my own blood.”

Max ran towards Alec. “We are going to win. I always win.”

Alec grinned at that. “I pick Jace.”

Jace grinned back and ran up to his parabatai. “Ohhhh y’all are so going down.”

Magnus laughed. “We’ll see about that, blondie. I pick Emma.”

“Oh damn,” someone said from the crowd.

“Emma, this is a paintball fight,” Alec pointed out. “You can’t use Cortana.”

“Don’t worry, it’s just for emotional support,” she said with a wicked gleam.

“Alright,” Alec said. “I pick Julian.”

“Isabelle,” Magnus called.

“KIT!” Alec yelled.

“TIBERIUS!” Magnus thundered.

“Count yourself lucky that it’s daytime,” Alec said. “Otherwise, I would have called Lily and she would have destroyed all of you!”

“Already making excuses for your imminent failure?” Magnus chuckled. “I choose Helen and Aline!”

“You can’t pick them both!” Alec argued.

“I can and I just did,” Magnus winked.

“Yeah, Helen and I won’t fighting in opposing sides,” Aline shrugged. “Sorry, Alec.”

“I got the lesbians!” Magnus laughed. “You are going down, Alexander.”

“You wish,” Alec said and whistled. Diego showed up behind him. “I got the Inquisitor!”

“Clarissa,” Magnus said. “The Angel’s chosen one.”

“Babe,” Jace said. “You can’t!”

“Everything is fair in love and war,” Clary shrugged, pointing a gun that was bigger than her. “And this is war, biatch!”

“Kieran!” Alec called and the unseelie king materialised from some corner and ruffled Max’s hair.

“Mark!” Magnus called.

“Cris-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Cristina lifted her finger warningly. She was perched on top of a tree. “I’m not going to be a part of this madness. I got a medicine kit right here. So, if anyone needs me, just holler, okay?”

“And I will excuse myself as the referee of course,” Simon pointed out. “Alright. Standard paintball rules apply. No serious injuries. If you get shot, then you’re off the game. Last team standing wins. And no runes or downworld powers. We are gonna fight mundane style.”

“YAS!” Kit cheered, already cuddling his paintball gun.

“Alright then,” Simon waved a flag. Where did he get THAT from? Did he have a bag of equipment just lying around?

“LET THE BATTLE OF THE COFEE MAKER BEGIN!” Simon yelled.

And then there was chaos.

The warlocks – mostly Ragnor – had changed the area into a paintball area. There were places to hide behind and attack from. It was really elaborate. Maybe Ragnor had more fun designing this space than he had let on.

“Alright,” Alec said to his team. “Let’s keep this simple. Take down anyone you see.”

“Anyone? What about our significant others?” Jace asked. “Do we shoot them down too?”

“Of course not!” Alec chastised. “We are not animals! Is that clear?”

“Yes, Consul!” everyone yelled.

“I DON’T CARE IF THEY ARE YOUR BOO OR YOUR BAE, THEY ARE GOING DOWN,” Magnus said to his team. “FIND YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHERS FIRST. THEY WILL NOT EXPECT YOU TO STRIKE! USE THAT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE! THERE ARE NO SIGNIFICANT OTHERS. ONLY SIGNIFICANT ENEMIES. IS THAT CLEAR?”

“YES CAPTAIN!” they all cheered.

They all broke out and ran to find their targets.

It wasn’t even five minutes since the game had begun and Kit ran straight into Ty.

“Hey,” Kit waved.

Ty pounced and pinned Kit to the ground. He pointed his gun at his boyfriend.

“Alec said we can’t hurt our significant others,” Kit put up his arms.

“Our captain said no such thing,” Ty replied. “You’re not-…Why are you grinning? I got you pinned down.”

“It’s my favorite place to be,” Kit smiled. “I open my eyes and there you are. You’re beautiful.”

“Stop flirting with me when I’m trying to fight you,” Ty blushed and then held out his hand. “Fine. I didn’t see you and you didn’t see me.”

Kit winked at him and ran away.

Mark and Kieran found each other next. They both held their guns at each other – neither of them shooting.

“This is childish,” Kieran pointed out. “I’m already bored.”

“Wanna go sit on that tree and hang out with Cristina?” Mark winked.

Kieran grinned and the two of them ran away too.

Helen and Aline looked at them and shrugged.

“We could just live stream the whole thing,” Helen pointed out. “Lily would like to see this.”

“I don’t know what that means but if that’s what you want to do and that’s what we shall do,” Aline smiled and and kissed her wife.

“Clary,” Jace said in relief when he saw her. “Thank god! I thought someone-”

There was sudden pain in his chest and he looked down to notice the big green splotch on this t-shirt.

“You...You shot me,” Jace said, sounding hurt.

“Jace, I’ve already stabbed you in the past and you once set me on fire,” Clary rolled her eyes and ran away to find her next target. “Get with it!”

“JULIAN ATTICUS BLACKTHORN,” Emma yelled and ran towards him. “YOU’RE GOING DOWN.”

“Not today,” he winked at her.

Emma blushed furiously just before attacking him. It wasn’t easy. Emma was skilled at close range combat, but Julian knew all her weak spots. So, they were even.

They wrestled for a while before Julian pinned her to the ground. He was breathing hard, his pupils dialed.

“I’m sorry, but this is strictly business,” he shrugged with a mischievous grin.

“But we are still on for tonight, right?” Emma asked. “I finally got a reservation at that Italian place you like.”

Julian’s eyes softened a litte. “You did?”

“Yes,” Emma smiled and hooked her legs on his ankles and flipped them in the blink of an eye. She shot him on the stomach and kissed him on his lips. “See ya at seven!”

Unlike everyone else Isabelle was not going to be fooled or manipulated by her significant other. Thank the Angel Simon wasn’t a part of this. She really liked the feel of the paintball gun in her hands. It was huge, powerful, messy and colorful too. Her kind of weapon.

She ran around the park and took down the others mercilessly. There were only a few of them remaining now – everyone else had already been shot.

But not Isabelle.

She didn’t care about the coffee maker of course. The argument was a ridiculous one.

She just wanted to win.

In the distance, she saw Emma take down Kit and Diego shoot Ty. She was off to destroy the Inquisitor when she had a familiar cry.

“Baby,” she ran to him. “My little blueberry muffin. Are you okay?”

“I fell,” Max sobbed. “Somebody pushed me.”

“Tell me who did this and I will-”

“ISABELLE DON’T!” she heard Magnus yell.

But it was too late.

There was a giant blue splotch on her white blouse.

“Max?” she asked in betrayal.

The boy just giggled and ran away.

In this distance, she now saw Diego covered in red, with a very satisfied Rafael hanging upside down from a tree.

And then the rest of them went feral.

“Surrender, Alexander,” Magnus said an hour later, holding up his gun, which was covered in glitter. “Everyone on your team is down.”

“Well, I don’t see anyone from your team standing either,” Alec pointed out.

“I still am,” Magnus said.

“So am I,” Alec replied.

“Give it up, Alexander!”

“Never,” Alec said adamantly. “This is for the coffee maker. I loved it so much!”

“Then you shouldn’t have broken it,” Magnus argued.

“I didn’t!” Alec said in frustration. “I love it so much because…because that’s the first thing you bought for me.”

“Oh,” Magnus said, the grip on his gun softening lightly.

“I know you have bought me so many expensive gifts but the coffee maker…it’s always been my favorite. I remember walking into your apartment one day, we weren’t even properly back together then, and you just bought it for me.”

“Well, you drink a lot of coffee,” Magnus grumbled.

“Yeah and you noticed. And you got me something so I wouldn’t feel weird in your apartment. You bought it so make me so comfortable. That’s when I realized I really, really like you.”

Magnus blushed a little. “Well, then now it sounds stupid to think you broke the thing.”

“That’s because I didn’t, Magnus!”

“Well, I didn’t either!” Magnus put up his hands. “In fact, the day it broke, I wasn’t even home. I was in the spiral labyrinth all day.”

“I know! I wasn’t home either! I had to go to the Mexico institute for an emergency meeting, so I called Jace to babysit the ki-”

They both stared at each other.

“JACE LIGHTWOOD HERONDALE!” Magnus’ voice boomed across the park. “DID YOU BREAK ALEC’S COFFEE MAKER?”

Jace was sweating. “Listen, I was gonna say something and then y’all started fighting and it was very awkward, and I was looking for the right time and then Simon came up with this idea and I thought 'hey we haven’t done a fun group activity in a long time and so why not?', ya know?”

Magnus and Alec looked at each other.

“Everybody,” Alec called. “Change of plans. Attack my parabatai.”

“AND SHOW NO MERCY!” Magnus yelled.

#I don't know what I did but I did it :)#malec #malec fics #tsc fics #dani writes stuff #tmi #tda #tsc

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binxyu · 3 years

Text

Being an agent undercover was difficult enough but it being with Jung Hoseok- that was a whole other story. Of course, you expected for him to catch feelings for you because that was part of the plan- but getting a tattoo just to say you were his property? That was definitely not part of the plan.

>>Pairing: Jung Hoseok (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | mafia!hoseok x secret agent!reader

>>Word Count: 2.7k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Gun play/penetration, knives, murder, manipulation, mentions of drugs, blood, tattoos/needles, branding, creampie, oral (giving), overstimulation, fingering, unprotected sex, humiliation, mirrors, double penetration, and scratching

You had been working alongside Hoseok for months now. You were now his most trusted subject and you became that through murdering whoever he chose, sexual manipulation, and having the ability to figure out anyone you were supposed to.

Hoseok was referred to as ‘The Heir’ by your police department. This was because no officers dared to call him by his real name. They knew they wouldn’t live long if one of Jung’s, what they called Hoseok’s father, men found out about that.

Hoseok was the heir to one of the most notorious crime families in the country. Well, more like the world. The Jung family has been responsible for the exportation of millions of drugs and weapons, the murder of thousands, and so much more. Yet, your department could never seem to get enough evidence to put them in jail since Jung would just bribe them out of it.

That’s why you were sitting beside Hoseok at this exact moment. You were supposed to be the one to get that evidence that was needed to put their asses in prison for life. However, you hated to admit that you were growing rather fond of Hoseok.

He really was charming for a psychotic serial killer with an army of men waiting for any order he may give.

“Okay y/n, I think it’s finally time I give you what you deserve”, your head tilted at Hoseok’s words. You two had just escaped an ambush and Hoseok was more than pleased with how well you protected him. You saved his life and for no payment.

“What I deserve?”, you asked as Hoseok put his arm around your shoulder. You couldn’t help but have certain thoughts run through your head and your cheeks went red.

“What my father requested you get. The mark of the Jung family”, you realized what he was referring to immediately. The tattoo that every member of the Jung empire. You had seen enough members to know the tattoo was a dagger with the initials of Hoseok’s father engraved on the handle.

“Oh, I see”, you simply answered as the limo parked. You got out first and held the door open for the man. Hoseok got out and thanked you, adjusting his luxurious suit that had had blood smeared across the front of it just yesterday. Now, it seemed good as new and you wondered when he had managed to get it clear.

That question didn’t last long because it was replaced with the question of who was going to give you this tattoo? Could you trust them?

Don’t be stupid. If Hoseok wanted you dead then you would be by now.

You calmed down and followed Hoseok, noticing a rather young man staring at the two of you.

“Boss! It’s been a while”, the young man greeted Hoseok, looking beyond happy to see him.

“Hello Han”, Hoseok smiled softly back and you never failed to be surprised when that smile appeared. It was so rare and precious.

“The usual, sir?”, Han asked and you studied him curiously. You knew more than just tattoos took place here from just the sounds alone. The screams weren’t extremely loud but you could hear them from one specific room. You shook your head and didn’t focus on it.

“Yes, but I would like to add red on the end of the dagger. She looks good with red on her skin”, you knew what Hoseok was referring to. He had seen you plenty of times with blood on your skin. You knew he loved the sight.

“Like blood I’m assuming, sir?”, Hoseok nodded and Han gently hooked his arm with your’s and guided you to the chair for you to sit down in. A table with all the tools for the tattoo was beside the chair and you looked at it. Han looked at Hoseok.

“Make it right above her breast”, Hoseok walked over and unbuttoned the top few buttons of your blouse, tapping on your skin with the tip of your finger. Of course he would want it above your heart. The tattoo artist nodded and got the needle ready before he cleaned the area above your breast and put the outline for that tattoo on your skin.

You bit your lip and just looked at Hoseok to distract yourself as the needle started to dig slightly into your skin. It was painful, but it definitely wasn’t the worst pain you had ever felt.

“Is there anything I can do for you today?”, Han asked as he finished up the tattoo, putting the finishing touch on the blood dripping down the dagger. You looked down to see the crimson red.

It definitely looks like blood. I’m sure Han has seen his fair share of it too.

“Yes”, Hoseok paused as he moved his gaze from your eyes down to your hand that was resting on the arm of the chair, “I want to put a tattoo myself” Han looked a little taken aback but he nodded after he was finished and moved out of the way.

“Another one?”, you asked curiously, tilting your head a little as Hoseok sat on the stool that Han was previously sitting at. He hummed and started to prepare the black ink he was going to use.

“The dagger shows you belong to my father. I want something on your skin that is a permanent reminder that you are mine too”, you blushed at his words, a little taken aback as the needle pricked your skin again. You just watched as Hoseok’s fingers gently held your own in place so the letters would not be ruined.

S. L. U. T.

You read each letter individually in your mind until you realized what it said. Across your knuckles read the word ‘slut’.

“S-slut?’‘, you mentally cursed yourself for stuttering and Hoseok chuckled.

“Mhm. I know you like being called it and that’s what I call you. It suits you”, he leaned closer to your ear and whispered, “my pretty slut. Maybe we should get out of here and make use of that tattoo, hmm?”.

You gulped and nod, shivers going up your spine from the feeling of his cold breath against your ear.

“Thank you, Han. We’ll be on our way now”, Hoseok helped you up off the chair before he started to button your blouse back up, his fingers ghosting over the dagger on your chest. Only the tip of the dagger was visible after he was done and you looked over at Han.

You started to dig for your wallet, ready to pay the man but he gently put his hand around your wrist to stop you.

“No, it’s okay. Any friend of the boss is on the house”, if you didn’t know better, you would say Han was an innocent and charming young man, but you did know better. He had probably seen more death than you had.

“Thank you”, you returned his bright smile with your own before Hoseok took your hand in his own and guided you out of the building.

“I should’ve asked for you to have baby written on your knuckles so people know you belong to me too”, you joked quietly and giggled. Hoseok looked at you and opened the door to the limo.

“You think I belong to you?”, he asked, an eyebrow raised teasingly and you smirked as you moved to get into the vehicle first.

“Oh, I know you do”, you whispered into his ear and sat down in your seat. He looked taken aback but got in beside you, your words replaying in his mind as you two rode in silence back to the penthouse.

“Come on, let’s have some fun”, Hoseok quickly dragged you out of the vehicle once you got to the building. Hoseok’s bodyguards allowed you in and you two went into the elevator. His penthouse was on the top floor of the building and you had always wondered what was found on the other levels, but you never asked. It wasn’t your place to.

The elevator door opened and you walked inside the penthouse, going to sit on the bed across the room since you assumed that’s exactly where Hoseok would eventually lead you anyways.

“I do think you deserve to be rewarded, y/n”, Hoseok takes off his leather gloves and sets them on the kitchen counter before he walks over to where you were and lifted your head up to look at him with his finger that was under your chin.

“For what, Hoseok?”, you tried to keep your voice steady despite the wetness gathering between your legs.

“For staying by my side and doing what I ask. We’re going to kill anyone that stands against us, isn’t that right?”, you quickly nodded and moved back on the bed so Hoseok could crawl onto it.

“C-could I reward you first? I feel like you could use it”, you softly smiled and Hoseok smiled back, slowly nodding since he had never been asked such a thing. You put your hands on his chest and pushed him to lay down on the bed. Hoseok looked up at the mirror on the ceiling and watched your reflection as you started to unbutton his clothes for him and toss the fabric to the floor.

“I’ll be your good slut master”, you saw the man get significantly harder from your words and you smiled before you started to wrap your mouth around his cock. You took as much of him into your mouth as you could and wrapped your hand around the rest. Hoseok moaned at the sight of your head bobbing up and down on his dick and your hand with the tattoo pumping the base of it.

“Fuck, that looks so amazing”, he groaned and you took that as encouragement to continue what you were doing, moving a little faster. Hoseok’s hand trailed down to your jeans and he started to unbutton them, pushing his hand into your panties when they were visible. You moaned around his cock and rocked your hips against his finger when he started to rub your clit with it.

Hoseok’s moans became louder from the vibrations and he pushed two of his fingers inside of your dripping wet cunt. You whimpered from the stretch and started to bounce your hips to ride his fingers as you hallowed your cheeks to suck him off better.

You knew you really did look like a whore right now and you loved it. The knowledge that slut was inked into your knuckles and that those knuckles were jerking Hoseok off was enough to make a loud moan spill from your lips. Hoseok’s gripped your hair with his free hand and started to force your head down further, making you choke on his dick and you gasped for air.

“Don’t be pathetic slut. I don’t care if you’re choking, keep going”, you held back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes and started to move your head again as you speed up your hips when Hoseok added another finger. He curled them against your walls when you sank back down onto them and the sensation caused your legs to shake. His fingers were easily knuckle deep.

Hoseok’s grip tightened in your hair even more and you knew he was close. He came down your throat and you swallowed all of his seed like he had taught you. He gripped your hip with his free hand and turned you onto your back, making it easier for him to help you finish too. His fingers started to thrust much faster than before and you desperately gripped his arm as your legs shook more, your nails digging into his skin.

You came around Hoseok’s fingers with a loud moan of his name. He smirked and brought his finger out of your panties to lick them. The sight made your eyes widen as his cheeks hallowed and he sucked on the digit, cleaning it completely of your cum. He removed the rest of your clothes entirely and you looked up at the mirror, waiting for his next move.

“I know you’ve wanted to try this for a long time. I could tell by how you look at it when I’m cleaning it”, you watched cautiously as Hoseok went over to where his jacket was lying on the floor and retrieved his pistol from the pocket. That’s when it hit you what he was referring to. You knew you had fantasized about Hoseok using a gun for your pleasure before, but you never expected him to realize you did.

“Hmm, what to do with you?”, he asked himself and trailed the gun down your chest, the cold metal against your bare skin causing you to let out a soft moan. You honestly felt a little scared but you were quickly reassured when Hoseok pulled the trigger and only a puff of air came out.

“P-please fuck me with it master”, you begged and the man chuckled at how desperate you were to have anything inside of you. Hoseok cleaned the barrel of the gun and you watched his hands move up and down it with a rag. He moved the tip of the gun in circles around your hole, causing you to clench around nothing in anticipation.

Slowly, the barrel of the gun was being pushed inside of you and you watched the reflection in the mirror as the top of the gun slowly disappeared inside of you. You looked down and saw the tip bulged in your stomach, making your mouth fall open in pain and pleasure.

“It fits so perfectly”, Hoseok commented before he started to thrust the barrel in and out of you. You clenched around the metal with a loud moan and gripped the sheets.

“Pull the trigger! Please!”, you moaned out and Hoseok nodded before he slowly pulled the trigger of the pistol. The rush of air made your back arch and the sight of you squirming and moaning from his pistol caused Hoseok to groan too. He moved the gun a little more to the side and slowly pushed himself inside of you too.

You screamed a little from the stretch, tears prickling your eyes and you whimpered loudly. Hoseok kissed your face gently, easing you into the feeling by slowly moving the weapon and his hips. As he sped up, your moans got louder and louder to the point that Hoseok had to cover your mouth with his free hand and he noticed something laying in your pile of clothes.

“Shhh slut. Take it like a good girl and be quiet”, you breathed heavily and whined as you tried your best to nod. The overstimulation was causing your second orgasm to come much faster and your legs were beginning to cramp.

Hoseok groaned as his cock rubbed against the barrel inside of you, the cold metal was a pleasant sensation he hadn’t felt before. He was going to cum soon too.

“Cum with your master, okay?”, Hoseok spoke softly and you nodded so he moved his hand away from your mouth. He counted down and you both came on three, your cum mixing inside of you before Hoseok pulled the gun out and watched his cum flow out of you.

He moved to lay beside you and pulled you into his arms, gently stroking your hair. You tried to catch your breath and relaxed in his embrace.

“I love you”, the words surprised you to say the least and fear struck your heart as you thought about what to say in response.

Is this a test? Do I love him back?

I do.

“I love you too”, your words came out clear enough for you to know you weren’t lying.

“Then why did you betray me?”, Hoseok pointed to the burner phone next to your jacket on the floor and your eyes went wide at the sight of it. You forgot to toss it out after you called your department earlier that day with information.

“I-I can e-explain”, you mentally cursed yourself out for stuttering.

“What a shame. I really did like you”, he pressed a knife against your neck and looked at the word across your knuckles.

Slut.

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manikas-whims · 3 years

Text

Holi

[Read on AO3]

Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa

Summary:

Modern AU

Gang Lieutenant of the Dregs, Kaz Brekker lives by himself in his apartment.

One morning his Indian neighbours' daughter Inej Ghafa shows up to share the customs of a festival they celebrate.

Note:

Since I'm an Indian, between the recent celebrations of the festival Holi, this fic idea popped up!

Also, I don't know whether Inej is North Indian or South Indian, etc. So I've simply used a few Hindi language terms as her language. Ofcourse the terms are explained in the fic.

Hope you'll like it ♥

Kaz lets out an exasperated sigh when he hears the doorbell of his apartment ringing. He’s had a rough week and frankly isn’t in the mood for any company right now. One of those lowly skivs from the Razorgulls had managed to land a punch to his face. But he’d paid back fervently, battering the guy’s face enough to leave him nearly dead. Nearly being the keyword because Jesper makes sure he doesn't kill more people than necessary.

He takes a chug of his brandy, slams the bottle on the table and gets up to answer whoever the fuck has decided to bother him on his day off.

The sight that greets him dazzles his tired eyes— a short woman dressed in traditional Indian silks with a plate of powdered colors, sweed foods and a lit earthen lamp. The blouse and the long flowing skirt in shades of purple and turquoise contrast elegantly with her burnt caramel skin. And for a moment, Kaz feels embarrassed in his black trousers and white button up which is undone down to three buttons, giving a good view of the deep cut running along his chest and the slowly drying blood there. He passes his fingers through his hair, ruffling it a bit to appear decent.

“Um..Kaazz Brek..ker?” she tries her best to pronounce his name in her accent.

“It’s Kaz Brekker.” He corrects her and asks, “How do you know my name?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, gold earrings jangling with the motion. “Nothing weird. I just asked the building management. I'm Inej Ghafa.”

He already knows her name but she doesn't need to know that. “What business?”

She breaks out into her best imitation of a formal smile and brushes a few strands of her lengthy hair behind her ear, “Uh..You must’ve seen me before. I live next door.”

Ofcourse he’d seen her. His skills as a hacker and gang lieutenant help him stay updated on the details of every resident in this area. He’s well-aware of the Ghafas, an Indian family who'd shifted next door two months ago. And he knows that this young woman close to his age, is their esteemed daughter who is a full time gymnastics instructor. At first he had expected them to be like the conventional loud and over-dramatic people he and Jesper have seen in some of those Bollywood movies. But he's glad that the Ghafas have been nothing short of peaceful in their living. Not once did they interact with him before so why the hell are they trying now?

“What do you want?” he grumbles out, hoping his tone will let her know he isn't an amiable person.

“Well..its Holi today. Uhmm..it's a festival we celebrate–”

“Get to the point.”

“We had done aarti earlier and my mother asked to go to put tika on you–”

“I don't know any of those words.” He waves a hand dismissively and moves to shut the door but she wedges her foot in the doorway.

“I can help you.”

The statement makes him tense. “What?”

“That,” She points at the slash wound peeking out from underneath his shirt, “looks painful. Should I call a doctor?”

His muscles relax slowly and he supplies, “No need..I already got a doctor friend. She'll drop by soon.” Well Nina Zenik isn't exactly a doctor but knows a good deal about patching up wounds. So he'll just call her up if required.

Inej's brief frown proves that she isn't entirely convinced by his words or his dishevelled demeanor but she chooses to concede.

“Well then..” she lifts up her plate and begins revolving it around his face in circular motions. He is utterly confused but stands and watches quietly. After approximately five turns, she lowers the plate and picks up a pinch of some red, pasty mixture from it. She reaches forward and before he can even question her motives, her thumb smeers the red thing in an upward stroke on his forehead.

“This vermilion is tika. We put it on the forehead between the eyebrows because its believed to be the centre of concentration in our body. Tika brings good luck and wisdom.” She explains, then picks up a piece of those sweet Indian delicacies and shoves it in his mouth.

The element of surprise leaves him with no other option but to gulp it down. His face blenches at the sweetness and she giggles, placing a palm over her mouth. Kaz feels a tug in his chest at that sound.

“Inej!”

They both turn at the intruding voice and find her mother peering at them from the door to their apartment. The older woman offers a smile to Kaz but gestures wildly with her eyes at Inej.

“Bas abhi aayi. I'm coming!” She tells her mother half in their native tongue, half in English and resumes her custom.

“Now for the final touch,” She says, her deep, brown eyes alight with something akin to mischief and picks a handful of the purple powdered color from her plate. Kaz stares in anticipation of any more weird ritual that is to come but she surprises him again. With a single sweep, she softly strokes the powdered color on his cheek. He keeps himself from flinching because thats where that asshole Razorgull had punched and tries to focus on the sensation of her palm. Sadly, she's already rretracted it and is smiling again. A genuine, kind smile.

“Happy Holi, Mr. Brekker.” She wishes and then elaborates to him, “Just like ‘Merry Christmas’, we say this as a well-wish or a greeting to our friends, family and ofcourse neighbours when we celebrate the festival.”

Kaz can barely form coherent words right now. And by the time he motions his lips, Inej is gone in a flurry, leaving behind no more than a hint of her touch on his cheek and the warmth of her smile.

Holi : Hindu festival of Colors, celebrated for the victory of good over evil and to spread love and happiness.

People put color (liquid/powdered) on each other to celebrate and have fun. Thats why Inej puts that powdered color on Kaz's cheek.

Aarti : a Hindu prayer ritual where light is offered to God in the form of lighting earthen lamps.

After Aarti, you can offer the blessings from the same earthen lamp by revolving it around a person's face several times.

Tika : As Inej says in the fic, its vermilion that we Hindus put on the forehead for good luck and wisdom.

Bas abhi aayi : its a Hindi language phrase which literally translates to "just coming"

Hope this helps..:3

And hope you all enjoyed this short fic.

Read more Soc Fanfics, Headcanons & AUs here

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

#kanej #kanej fanfic #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #shadow and bone #kaz x inej #grishaverse #dirtyhands #the wraith #kanej fanfiction

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 4 years

Text

Changes... (Batsis OS)

Warning: Angst, self-degradation, OOC Bruce, Angst again, body-shaming (mentioned) Word count: 3094 Summary: Your family notices that you start to change. When you deny the changes they start to investigate... What they find doesn’t make them happy.

This was requested by an astonishing Anon: Hi! First of all, I love your blog! I was wondering if you could write about the bat family defending their bat sister from a fat-shaming boyfriend. Please and Thank you!! 😁 A/N: This went way further and into a completely different direction than I had expected...But I still like it and I hope so will you. It’s not really about the defending and more about the consoling, but I added some defending (more or less) at the end. I also knowingly tried not to actually say what body type the reader has so that everyone can imagine they’re own version. Body shaming can go in both directions after all.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. They couldn't quite put their finger on it, but something about the way you acted and held yourself seemed different to your family. Other than one would think it wasn't one of your siblings who lived with you who noticed it first. Maybe it was because they actively tried to ignore it, or it was because they didn't want you to be different than usual, but nonetheless, the person who noticed first was Duke. Ever since he became the signal, ever since he became part of the family, you, as the heart and soul of Wayne Manor, made it your personal quest to make him feel included. And as part of this quest, the two of you met up bi-weekly for- how you called them- "brother-sister-dates". You always made 100% sure to cancel everything else in order to attend. So when you cancelled one, saying you didn't feel well and that you'd make it up to him the next time, he was confused. But it wasn't enough to worry him. But when you cancelled the next date because you had "other business that just couldn't wait," was when it started to bother him. But he didn't have any real proof that there was something wrong so he couldn't do anything but mentioned it to the rest of the family when they were going through Gotham on your day off.

It was then that the rest started to realize it too. At first, they saw little changes. That you went to your room almost every day as soon as you came home. That you sat there quiet when it was time to eat dinner. That your smile stopped reaching your eyes. It was almost uncanny. But when they asked you about it, you smiled and waved it off. Said things like: "Don't be silly, everything is alright," or "Don't worry your pretty little heads, I'm fine." That calmed them for a while, but it still gnarled on their minds. But then the big changes came. You started to stay out after school longer, coming back in the evening saying- much to Alfred dismay- that you've already eaten. You asked Bruce to be excused from Patrol for a while, saying that you didn't feel like you were on top of your game and since he also realized that something was wrong, but didn't know what to do about it, he allowed it, saying that a few weeks without you, while you were training, wouldn't be a problem. The biggest change where your clothes. You usually wore things with fun, colourful prints on them. Dresses with roses and tulips. Skirts with numbers and signs. Blouses with Avocados on them. And you usually wore fitting pumps or sneakers. Some people would compare the way you dressed to how they imagined a modern fairy to dress. But now... Now you wore dull oversized sweaters over duller oversized shirts with grey, black or dark-blue jeans and black shoes. Jason recognized some sweaters to be his, others looked like they could be from Bruce himself. It was like you were trying to disappear in the fabric. But again, when they asked you, you found a way to escape the question. It was then that they had enough. Something was very, very wrong with you and they intended to fix it. They wanted their sunshine back. Their Y/N. And so the trailing began. After a rather violent fight about who would be the best choice, it was Cass who was waiting on the roof of Gotham Acadamy for the bell to ring and you to leave school. What happened after wasn't what she expected. When you stepped out of the building there was a boy walking along with you. He had his arm around your shoulder and smiled at you, but- even though you also smiled- your whole posture told Cass that you felt uncomfortable and inferior. The two of you walked to an old, rusty car parked on the school ground and got into it, immediately driving away. It was easy for your sister to keep up with the car, but something bothered her. Here and there she caught glimpses of you on the passenger seat and there was a darkness in your eyes that made her blood boil. The car stopped at an apartment building in one of Gotham's nicer neighbourhoods and the boy, who held your wrist tightly and dragged you along as if you were an in-obedient dog, entered and drove with the elevator to one of the higher level apartments. With some swift movements, Cass found herself standing on one of the windowsills that allowed insight into a room that seemed to belong to a boy your age and was this highly likely to belong to whoever you went with after school. Her thesis proved positive when the door opened and the boy, still dragging you by the wrist, came storming in. After he had closed the door he finally let you go and Cass noticed how you started rubbing the spot where his hand had been. Her anger started bubbling up further, but she couldn't intervene. She watched as you sat down onto his bad, seemingly making yourself as small as possible, while the boy ravaged through his room. Talking constantly and keeping on making a mess with his things, seemingly no real goal in mind. Sometimes it seems like he asked you questions, but he never waited for an answer, only looking at you annoyed before getting back to what he was doing before. That went on for almost an hour, now and then he stopped on one spot for a few minutes, playing with something or just looking at you with some unidentifiable look in his eyes. You never said a word, never moved either. Then he finally stopped and sat down beside you on his bed. His hand found yours, but you made no move to escape his grin. In fact, you returned the hold and kissed him on his cheek. Cass's eyes widened and she was utterly bewildered when the boy turned his head and his lips met yours in a kiss that would be sweet if the boy wasn't such a brute about it. The hand that didn't grab yours moved to your thigh and harshly grasped it. Cass's hand was raised and she was close to crashing the window and getting you out of his grasp, but then the boy stopped kissing you and moved away. He looked...disappointed. Cass saw that he sighed and she saw the look of displeasure in his eyes and the look of regret in yours. You said something and Cass read the words "I'm sorry," from your lips. That seemed to anger the boy even further and the following conversation- or rather monologue- was loud enough for Cass to hear it through the window. The family really had to do something about this situation.

The sun was already leaving the sky when you came home. You hadn't noticed Cass following you on your way, nor did you notice the eerie quiet filling the manor. You only noticed something was off when you got to your room and found your dad sitting on your bed. He was looking at a picture that usually sat on your bedside table. It depicted a scene that happened on a stormy fall day a few years earlier. You had made big plans to go to a fair with all your siblings, but they all had to cancel because of the weather. The disappointment had been crushing, but Damian, Cass and Tim wouldn't let you stay so sad. They came into your room, told you to get dressed in rainproof clothes and immediately left again. When you came outside in your bright yellow rain boots, jacket and hat, you were welcomed by the sight of your family in matching rain outfits in all different shades of black, red and, in Steph and Babara's case, purple. That was how it came to the picture. On it, you were sitting on Jason's shoulders, your arm around Damian who sat on Dick, with the rest of your family in similar positions beside you, all of you soaking wet. Soaking wet, but happy. Bruce noticed your presence and looked up, meanwhile laying the picture back at its place, a sad smile on his face. He patted the space beside him. You sighed, but complied with his silent demand and sat down beside him. As soon as you were beside him he embraced you with one arm and pulled you to him, laying his chin onto your head and keeping you close. You reciprocated the hug warily, not quite knowing what this could be about. Had something happened? Did someone die? were the thoughts that immediately filled your head. After a few minutes, Bruce let go of you again but kept his hand on your shoulder. "Is-Is everything okay?" you asked worried, your brows furrowed. "Don't worry, everyone's fine, I'm not here to give you any bad messages." "Then why are you here?" you asked, now rather confused by the situation. Your father wasn't a cold man or anything like that, but he wasn't the most emotional person either. you were happy to get a hug or an "I'm proud of you" once in a while, but that was how things were with him. "I noticed," he started, but seemed to wrestle for words, "that you have been absent lately." You flinched, hoping he wouldn't notice, but knowing that he most likely did. It wasn't easy to hide things from the 'greatest detective in the world'. "It's really nothing, okay?" you said softly as if you were the one who comforted him, "I'm a teenager. I'm just going through some girl stuff right now." That was your ace. The 'girl-card'. Something Bruce couldn't quite refute and would hopefully get him off your back for the time being. He would most likely ask one of your sisters to ask you again a few days from now, but you would be able to think something up until then. Now you just wanted some peace. "I know that you're lying," blocked Bruce your excuse with a hesitating voice. It threw you off. "What?" "Listen, I know I should've tried to talk to you first, but," he sighed and you noticed that he took his hand away, "I asked one of your siblings to follow you." Your eyes widened, while what Bruce just said sunk in. "You- You did what?" you asked, your voice trembling dangerously. "We all noticed that something is wrong with you. I didn't know what else to-" "How could you!" you screamed, jumping off of the bed and backing away from Bruce. "Y/N, listen-" "NO! YOU LISTEN! IT'S MY LIFE AND, AS LONG AS I DON'T WANT IT TO BE, IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHAT'S GOING ON INSIDE IT!" Now Bruce stood up, trying not to seem threatening, but still towering over you. "Y/N, we are just very worried okay? You're keeping things from us, then you start your wardrobe, and now-" he stopped and looked at you unhappily. His eyes were full of sadness and something that you identified as pity. Seeing that expression cooled you down a bit. Your trembling shoulders coming to a rest. Bruce sat down again and looked at his hands as if you were a wild animal that could be driven away when you got looked at wrong. You stayed where you were, maybe not as furious as before, but still angry. For a while, it stayed silent in your room, neither of you moving from where you were. It was as if time stood still. It was Bruce who broke that stasis. "I know about the boy." Your breath hitched and you crossed your arms in front of your chest, thinking that you knew where this was supposed to go. "I wanted to tell you, okay? We only become an item a few weeks ago, I was still searching for a way," you said somewhat bitterly. "That's not what I meant." "It's not?" now you were confused again. "Then- then what do you mean?" "Cass heard what he said to you. What he called you." Your heart skipped a beat and not in a good way. You wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in your throat and all that was left were the tears build up in your eyes. Bruce was still not looking at you, but you noticed that he was clenching his fist angrily. "How could you just let him say these things to you?" You managed to swallow the lump of unsaid words in your throat, finding the energy to say something. "It's not like that... He- He really loves me," you mumbled, still not being able to fight the tears that now threatened to spill. Your dad finally looked at you with a look of utter unbelief plastered over his face. "How can you think that?" "He told me," you mumbled weakly, avoiding his eyes and sliding down onto the floor below you. "Y/N, sweety, please look at me." You kept looking at the floor, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes. "Please," he said again and his shoes came into your field of view. You took a deep breath and rubbed over your eyes to clean them from the tears that fogged your sight. Then you looked up and met the loving, caring eyes of your father. Not the disappointment you expected, you were used to lately. "Y/N you can talk to me." Now the sobs started to shake your body. "He said he loves me," you stated again, this time louder, shaking your head. Bruce sighed again, clearly not happy about the situation and still worried, and sank down beside you, but still keeping some distance between you. "Do you love him," he asked the question that you had been frightened off. "I do," you said firmly, before looking at your hands and at the still slightly red mark on your wrist, before you paddled back: "I-I don't know. I don't think so." "Then why are you with him? It is okay to change your mind, it is okay if you change. You don't have to be with him just because you liked him a week ago, you know that right?" You didn't answer, you didn't look at him, you didn't move. "Y/N?" "I know... but-" you shake your head and returned to your previous silence. "But what?" "It doesn't matter if I love him. I can be happy that he likes me." Bruce was speechless at what you said but quickly caught himself again. "What do you mean?" The sobs started again and you buried your face in your hands. "You know what he says, what he thinks about me... about my body. He says that no one could ever like someone like me." It was hard for Bruce to understand your muffled speech, but the parts that he understood combined with what Cass had told him about was enough for him to know what you were talking about. "Oh honey," he mumbled and engulfed you in his arms, pulling your sobbing form into his chest "Why would you ever believe him?" Even though he asked a question, he knew not to expect an answer. And he knew it anyways. When someone you liked, even if it was not romantically yet, told you again and again that you were too fat/thin, ugly, a disgrace... After a while, you'd start to believe it. "I know this might sound hard to believe right now, but you're beautiful the way you are. You don't have to change for someone who doesn't deserve you. And if you ever feel the way you do right now, I want you to know that you can come to me, come to everyone in this family, and we will tell you just how amazing you are," Bruce mumbled into your hair, loud enough for you to hear, in a soothing manner. As if on cue the door fell open and your siblings all came tumbling in. And seeing the great vigilantes of the bat family laying on top of each other on the floor managed to get you to let out a mix between a sob and a giggle. Maybe it was time for you to come back to your family...

After the talk with Bruce (and later your siblings and Alfred who all wanted to let you know just how much they loved you), you stayed home for a few days with your father's permission to get back to your old self, not answering a single call or message from your (now Ex-)boyfriend. But you couldn't stay out of school forever so your siblings made a plan. They'd deal with that douche of the equivalent of human trash. Obviously (since some of them were grown-ups with jobs and responsibilities) not all of them were able to come, but the next Monday morning when you, Damian and Cass left the car and stepped onto the school ground, Jason, Tim, Duke and Harper were already waiting near the brick wall surrounding Gotham Academy. When they saw the three off you, they came over and immediately encircled you like your small private army. You slightly rolled your eyes at them, knowing that they couldn't just walk with you through school the whole day, but smiled nonetheless. That smile faltered when you saw him standing in the entrance, looking angry. Around the same time you caught sight of him, he saw you and immediately started to stomp over to you, seemingly not noticing the people surrounding you. His eyes were focused on you and made your skin freeze, it was like you were fixed to the ground. Harper, who had been walking behind you, noticed your lack of movement and followed your eyes. "Is that him?" she asked loud enough for your other siblings to notice. You nodded. "Damian, take Y/N to her first class please, the others and I have a few things we want to talk about with that jackass," stated Jason with no room for discussion. Not that Damian cared who tried to anyways: "But I also want-" "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but we just want to scare him, maybe rough him up a bit, but not kill him." Damian scoffed, but still took your hand uncharacteristically soft and walked with you to another entrance to the building, taking you away from the riot that was to follow. Let's just say that your Ex never bothered or even talked to you the way he did before (or in general) again.

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merryfortune · 3 years

Text

Covenant of the Gold Spinner

Written for 100ships On Dreamwidth

Prompt #100 Gold

Ship: Classicalshipping | Reiji/Yuzu

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc V

Word Count: 4,477

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - Rumplestiltskin, Minor or Implied Yuri/Yuzu

Yuzu was getting the distinct impression that it was possible that her father loved her too much. She loved her Father dearly but this was just too much, too big of a lie.

Yuzu’s Father was a miller by trade and by hobby, quite the talker. However, no one would say that Shuzou had the gift of the gab. He just talked and talked and talked, to whoever would listen. He would talk to the birds and the bees, the flowers and the trees. Sometimes he would even get lucky and talk to the other folk of the town but usually he didn’t talk of anything of consequence but the rumour that he had inadvertently started was most certainly of consequence.

He had started a rumour that his darling daughter had quite the prodigious talent: she could spin straw into gold.

Now this was most certainly not a skill that Yuzu possessed. She was quite certain that it was a skill that no one possessed. Not that it mattered much. The rumour had most certainly gotten around and with such a shiny ring to it such as that, it had caught the interest of one of the four princes of the land, the youngest of the four and the one with the worst reputation.

Shuzou could hardly believe his eyes when Prince Yuri turned up on his doorstep, inquiring about Yuzu’s talents. There was a shine of greed to his pink-coloured eyes and he was promising great things for Yuzu should she allow herself to be borrowed by him.

“I desire to see Yuzu’s talents in person, I have a room prepared for her at my estate where she can spin to her heart’s content with your permission and I can promise you, her worth to the kingdom could have great rewards for you.” Yuri spoke. His voice was like silk but Yuzu was certain it was hiding poison.

She tugged on her Father’s sleeve in protest but Shuzou dismissed her, waving her off and grinning, he was too good natured to realise that there was something awry with the young prince. He was too proud of his daughter’s merit, as imagined as it was, that he wanted Yuzu recognised on the grandest stage of royalty - and his old mill could use some repairs so perhaps the prince could have that afforded.

So, Shuzou agreed. He let Prince Yuri whisk Yuzu away without another word. Though her Father did bid her goodbye at the top of his voice, his hand flying through the air with his proud farewells, he had no idea what was in store for Yuzu as soon as she was pulled out from behind the threshold of their house. She was bundled up like hay and packed into a palanquin, taken to the palace where there was, indeed, a room prepared for her. Yuzu was shoved into it, her head still whirling with how she had been stolen away from her home and her father in the brink of an eye.

The room that had been prepared for her was eerily luxe. It was neat and pretty, with rich coloured wooden floors and pale coloured walls that had no windows. It reminded Yuzu of an inn but it had nowhere to rest save the floor. The only item inside of it a wheel with which Yuzu could use to spin.

Behind her, there was a knock on her door but before she could answer it, faceless soldiers stocked her with straw. Prince Yuri watched and he smiled sharply.

“Spin this straw into gold,” he said, warning, “or I will cut off your head.”

Yuzu bit her lip. She frowned.

“You have until morning.” Yuri told her and with a snap of his fingers, the soldiers that had been giving her bale after bale of straw ceased and retreated with him.

The door locked in front of Yuzu. She tried the door but it was useless. She would only ruin her hands if she tried to brute force her way through by scratching it. She sighed, withholding her despair, and looked at the dozen or so bales of straw that she had to spin into gold with her alleged talent.

Yuzu stumbled back to the middle of the room, uncertain what to do, only to collapse in front of the spinning wheel. She clutched onto it and started to sob. She cursed her Father and his idiocy. She cowered in fear from the threat literally looming over her head. She had no idea what to do.

Fortunately, the devil in the room did and he spoke, “I see that you are in a predicament, young lady.”

Yuzu’s blood ran cold as she heard this voice. The tears that had been streaming down her face stopped as he looked. As she listened. She turned her head and towards the front of the room, in front of the door, stood someone who could not possibly be inside of a locked room with her.

He was somewhat tall with grey hair and pierced, triangular ears that jutted out the side of his face. He wore nice trousers and a button-up blouse. He was adorned around the neck with a blood red scarf. He stared at her curiously from behind a pair of glasses. Yuzu swallowed a lump in her throat as she gawked as this youth. It most certainly did not escape her attention that through the cascades of his hair, he had a pair of black horns and a flicking tail with a diamond-like texture to it.

“Who are you?” Yuzu asked, shocked.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Someone who appears before those who are in need of a deal or a trade.” he said and he smiled. “I propose that we make a contract.”

“What are your terms and conditions then, to this contract you think we should make?” Yuzu asked, her shocked expression giving way to wariness. The devil liked that immensely.

“I will spin this straw into gold on your behalf,” he began, “for the price of the ornaments that you wear in your hair.”

“That seems like a relatively cheap contract.” Yuzu said but already, she had begun to take the disc-like baubles out of her pigtails, just in case the cheapness was fairness; she even began to take precautionary steps closer to him.

The devil smiled, “I can assure you, the emotional value of your trinkets have worth equal to my time.” he said.

“Very well then.” Yuzu said.

She frowned as she handed over the baubles that she had once worn. She placed them in the devil’s awaiting hand, atop his pale palm, and when Yuzu did, they disappeared in a burst of lavender coloured flames. Yuzu’s hand flung back in surprise.

“It won’t hurt you,” the devil told her and then stepped around her, she stood, gawking still, “but if you will allow me, I have some work to do.”

Yuzu was mystified as the devil began to do her chores for her. She sat against the wall and watched as the devil fed straw through the spinning wheel and had its transmute into gold. He did so effortlessly, without a wry complaint and the gold that resulted was magnificent.

Even though the day had grown long and the room had grown dim, the gold shone like none other. It practically glowed. Yuzu had been watching intently as the devil spun the straw into gold but she couldn’t believe how beautiful it had been. When he finished, he got up and he put his hand on his heart.

“I must bid you goodbye.” he said, bowing at Yuzu.

“Thank you!” she gasped, eyes wide. She scrambled to her feet and towards him, her heart light with her burden eased and she smiled, “Before you go, I must get your name.”

The devil shook his head, “Names are contracts too and there was no clause in ours which mandates that I must tell you.” he replied.

Yuzu simpered, disappointed by this outcome but her gratitude still burgeoned. She smiled, “Still, thank you, I mean it.”

“Do not be bothered by my departure, I am sure we will meet again soon.” he replied and just as mysteriously as he came, he was gone.

Yuzu could feel the life drain from the room with the devil’s vanishing. It was just her and the piles upon piles of gold - and the spinning wheel too. She felt her heart race in her chest. She hoped that their reunion was not too soon but hopefully, this would be enough to sate the greed in Prince Yuri’s heart. It was late, Yuzu told herself, and so, she curled up on the ground and slept until morning.

She slept dreamlessly and uncomfortably until morning. She awoke with a rapt, thunderous knocking upon her door which scared her. She felt helpless as once more as the Prince and his private guard came to inspect the room.

Prince Yuri’s face lit up in twisted delight as he marvelled at the gold that was present. He could hardly believe his eyes as he admired what was once bales of straw. He grinned in a way which made Yuzu’s skin crawl. He made a superfluous gesture towards her and then made his speech.

“I am impressed,” he said, “I did not think the rumours were true but it appears the truth is stranger than fiction.”

Yuzu glared. She held onto her bracelet for comfort.

“You may keep your head,” Prince Yuri continued, “for now.”

“What does that mean?” Yuzu asked. “I’ve done what you told me to do, so let me go.”

“Oh no, this is not nearly enough, I want you to spin more and more for me.” Prince Yuri teased her. “And this time,” he tilted his head up slightly so he could look down his nose as the terrified but bold Yuzu, “if you do not complete this task, you and your father will be publicly executed for lying to royalty.”

Yuzu gasped, horrified by this demand.

“Understood?” Prince Yuri sneered venomously.

“Understood.” Yuzu timidly nodded and that was the cue for yet more bales of straw to be brought into her room.

Yuzu watched in horror and absolute despair as bale upon bale of straw was brought into her room, until all the floor was stacked with them. It was hard to move, they only really gave her enough space around the spinning wheel where she stood like a newborn deer.

“Until tomorrow morning.” Prince Yuri said and he bid Yuzu goodbye.

The door closed - and locked - with a slam. The silence that ensued was deafening. Yuzu stood where she was, paralysed by fear. If only she knew that devil’s name, she thought as she began to cry, a single tear streaking down the side of her face, then she would be able to call him. Her heart sank and her stomach lurched. She came down to her knees and broke down weeping once more, holding onto the spinning wheel.

After what felt like an immeasurable length of time, despairing for the inevitable killing of herself and her father, Yuzu heard a voice: “Hello again.”

She stopped and her blood ran cold. She pulled herself up and got herself together, clawing at her face so she didn’t look like some pitiable crybaby girl. She looked over her shoulder and the devil was here with her once more. His tail flicked petulantly behind him as he took stock of the situation.

“I see that you are once again seeking a deal or a trade,” he said, “are you willing to make a second contract?”

Yuzu got to her feet and she held her fist in front of her, determined, she nodded her head.

“Excellent.” the devil smirked. “In exchange for all this straw spun into gold, I will take your bracelet.”

Yuzu felt as though her face had been slapped but she mustered a very simple reply to the devil anyway, “No.”

“Oh?” The devil tilted his head to the side. “Perhaps you do wish to die by the prince’s execution, and your poor father too. Or, perhaps, you have decided that you ought to attempt this task for yourself after all, it has been done once, even if it was by me so therefore, it is no longer quite so impossible.”

“No.” Yuzu said again, her heart trembling. She held onto her bracelet. “This bracelet means the world to me.” Her eyes began to water and yet they were fierce. “This bracelet is my one memento of my mother, she passed away whilst I was still an infant.”

“You would prefer to hold onto such a thing… over you and your father’s lives?” the devil pointed out, sauntering closer and he touched Yuzu’s face. Yuzu flinched. The devil caressed her face. His fingertips were cold as ice; her heart leapt to her throat upon his caring stroke. “Are you certain that is a good trade? After all, what good would that item be when you are dead, yourself? No guarantee that your murderers would let you take it into the grave, into the afterlife.”

Yuzu held her breath - and she wanted to hold her ground, too but the devil was right. There was no guarantee that a fraud such as her and her father would be respected so well that their most precious property would go unscathed by their killings. Her bracelet was an item of fantastic emotional value to her, she had always worn it, even when it was too big for her wrist, but it was true. There would be no use to it, no value to it, if she was dead. With a shaking hand and a snivelling expression, Yuzu gave the devil her bracelet, even if it broke her heart to do so.

“A good decision.” the devil praised her.

He accepted the bracelet and it, too, burst into lavender flames that made Yuzu’s hand recoil instinctively. The devil smiled a small, self-assured smile then stepped around Yuzu. He sat down at the spinning wheel and began to get to work.

Yuzu could only watch. She sat with her arms tight around her legs, her chin over her knees. The devil had a steady hand and with it, he did the impossible with magical ease: he turned the bales of straw into ingots of gold and other threads of it, too. Moreover, he was swift at his chore, as well, Yuzu had thought it would be impossible for him to do it but he made great pace.

Occasionally, Yuzu would try to make conversation with the devil, only to be promptly shushed. He was busy at work, after all, no time to talk. Regardless, Yuzu sulked. Or at least, she sulked up until she was too tired to sulk. She wasn’t sure when but she drifted off to sleep, the click of the spinning wheel was oddly comforting. So, she laid down, curling up against stacks of gold and straw that had yet to be transformed.

In the morning, she woke of her own accord but she was certain that the Prince and his guard would be on his way. She looked around and the devil was gone. As was the straw. All there was to remember him by was the gold - and something peculiar. Yuzu realised there was something soft on the ground with her. The devil had placed his scarf under her head, folded it up to be a pillow for her. Yuzu’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected a token of kindness from the devil, at least not one that wasn’t negotiated half to death. She smiled to herself and that smile gave her a little bit more strength which she would need.

Within the minute of her realisation of the devil’s kindness, the door opened. No knock this time and Prince Yuri flounced in. He gasped and exclaimed in greedy awe. His joy was fiendish as he pranced through, disbelieving his eyes but his hands confirmed what he was seeing was nothing but the purest gold.

“Oh, my dear,” he exclaimed, “you have done it again. Wonderful, truly wonderful.”

Yuzu got up and she held onto the scarf, balling it up, hoping that Prince Yuri wouldn’t notice but his eyes lingered on the fabric, probing his memory for… did she always have that on her person? Regardless, he had bigger things to worry about.

“I have decided,” he began, officially, “I want you to be my bride. Should you complete your next task, I would very much like it if we were wed. Then, you can spin all the straw in the world to gold.”

Yuzu grimaced. Her stomach churned. Prince Yuri was a monster, taking what he pleased and threatening her with his power. There was no way on Earth that Yuzu would ever agree to such a wedding but Prince Yuri chose to take her silence as a yes.

Thus, yet more straw was brought into the room. It was piled up methodically, making use of every possible inch of the room until there was more straw in the room than air to breathe. Bales were stacked on top of each other, again and again. Yuzu was all but buried in the room with the impossible amount of straw she was meant to spin into gold.

Locked inside once more, the sound of the door closing at all was muffled by the amount of straw that had been brought inside. Yuzu took a deep breath and her heart raced; her brow came down to a glare and she yelled. She yelled over and over for the devil and sure enough, he did appear before her once more.

In what little space was left in the room, the devil pressed up against Yuzu, his hands outstretched and grappling against the bales of straw. Yuzu felt very small in front of him like this, pinned to the straw and with the devil looking down at her.

“Thrice now, you have been in need of a trade or a deal.” the devil tutted.

Yuzu scowled, “I need the ultimate trade or deal. I’m running out of things to trade with you.”

“That’s quitter’s talk, you still have plenty to offer me.” the devil assured her.

“I want to escape this room. I’ll never see my father again if I am married to that horrible Prince Yuri.” Yuzu said.

“But you still need to uphold your offer to the prince, you cannot let this promise go unpaid. I won’t allow that. The straw will be spun into gold, I will do that for you, in exchange…” the devil murmured as he paused to peruse Yuzu’s person for his next thing to take from her.

“In exchange for?” Yuzu prompted him dubiously.

“In exchange for your firstborn child.” the devil said. “Take my hand in marriage instead, I will return you to your father and whilst I have my own work as a devil of contracts and covenants, what say you? You are after the ultimate contract so I offer you the covenant of marriage in return.”

Yuzu’s guts twisted. To get married to a devil or to get married to a devil. She wasn’t sure which one was worse.

“Well, what say you?” the devil asked.

“Do I at least get your name if I marry you?” Yuzu asked, half a harrumph to her voice, some fleeting bravado.

“Of course.” the devil replied.

Yuzu placed her hands on the devil’s chest and sighed, “This must be the part where I say I do.” She got up on her tiptoes and surprised the devil with a kiss.

The devil’s lips were cold but hers were warm. His eyes were wide open whereas Yuzu kept her eyes clenched shut. The kiss was awkward, took them both by surprise but the devil kissed back gently, easing into it and Yuzu smiled.

Yuzu broke the kiss first but the devil remained close and from his lips slipped his name, “You may call me Reiji.”

“Well it’s good to meet you, Reiji.” Yuzu whispered back.

The devil - Reiji - made an odd noise that made Yuzu laugh. He seemed harmlessly eccentric to Yuzu and he fidgeted with his glasses, excusing himself so he could get to work with the straw now that his and Yuzu’s ultimate contract had been made. He sat down at the spinning wheel and Yuzu watched. She was in a perky mood as she watched, tapping her feet and humming. Reiji smiled a small smile as he listened to her musical habits.

All around them, the bales of straw were transformed into gold but the first sprig of straw that Reiji spun, he stopped. He so easily manipulated it down to a smaller form and beckoned Yuzu closer. Her heart pounded but she got up and knelt by Reiji’s side. He took her hand with his own and then threaded on a simple, gold ring that had a criss-crossing diamond motif.

“With this,” he said, a softness to his voice, “our covenant will be known to all.”

Yuzu blushed and nodded. Reiji leaned over and kissed her forehead. She settled down, changing her position to sit and Reiji resumed his spinning. Yuzu didn’t try to initiate more chatting with Reiji as he was very busy but his presence was a comfort, as was the clicking of the spinning wheel. She tried to stay with him, awake, for as long as possible but as more and more straw was spun into gold, the less time there was in the day and so, naturally, Yuzu fell asleep.

In the morning, she was still asleep propped up by the spinning wheel and even had Reiji’s scarf draped over her once more. She woke up, blurry eyed but calm. She didn’t feel afraid of Prince Yuri when he and his posse made their arrival at the room she was locked inside of.

His eyes were wide as dinner plates as he marvelled at the mountains of gold that were inside of the room with his bride-to-be and the spinning wheel. Even Yuzu had great admiration for the pace at which Reiji worked but she remained on her hackles as she waited for Reiji. He had disappeared but she was certain that he would return for her, rescue her, the feeling of his lips on her own and the ring on her finger was a promise. He wouldn’t violate his own contract, Yuzu was certain.

Prince Yuri clasped his hands together and smacked his lips, “Oh, I hear wedding bells.”

Yuzu’s mouth twisted shut. She scowled, remained firm, but she was begging for Reiji to reappear in the blink of an eye once more. Especially now that Prince Yuri was sauntering towards her. She fidgeted where she stood, afraid of how his hand was reaching out to touch her but intervention struck.

Reiji grabbed Prince Yuri’s wrist and crushed it, “Correct,” Reiji said scathingly, “there shall be wedding bells but not for thee.”

“Reiji!” Yuzu gasped with a smile that was lit up with delight, she clasped her hands together and she knew she was saved.

“It is unlawful and against the contract for two men to marry the same woman, as I have already staked my claim with her, any advance from you would be ill-fated.” Reiji warned Prince Yuri.

Prince Yuri gritted his teeth and tried to rip his arm away from Reiji who was like a vice upon him, “Unhand me, you fie-” Prince Yuri’s words died on his tongue as his eyes travelled upwards and he saw the horns upon Reiji’s head.

“You have more than enough gold in this room to buy a different bride for yourself if that’s what you truly desire but you cannot have this one, she is mine.” Reiji snarled.

Prince Yuri gaped, pathetic. Reiji huffed and he let Prince Yuri go. He held his own wrist, there was frost on the sleeve of his jacket and undoubtedly the marks of a hand on his skin. Reiji’s eyes were cold but they warmed when his gaze flicked to Yuzu.

“Never contact me or my father again.” Yuzu snarled as she hurried to Reiji’s side.

Reiji smiled a covert smile as he let Yuzu latch onto his arm. Prince Yuri was stunned by this turn of events and in just the blink of an eye, his bride-to-be and the devil were gone. It was just Prince Yuri and his endless hoard of gold.

Yuzu was dizzy from the teleportation but she couldn’t believe it. She was home. She stood amid the green grass and the trees, the homestead that she had been born into and had never truly wanted to leave. She felt shaky with her excitement and the door of the house opened. Her Father was bewildered to see her and Yuzu ran up to her father. She gave him a huge bear hug and breathed deep his smell, the smell of their home and her stomach growled. She could smell breakfast in the kitchen and became all too aware that she hadn’t eaten for days.

“What’s the matter, Yuzu?” her Father asked.

“The prince was mistreating me but don’t worry, I’ve escaped.” Yuzu told him.

Shuzou pulled back and he caressed his daughter’s face with a deep expression of rue and regret on his own, “I’m sorry for letting them take you away, I’ve been lonely without you but I had no idea that they could be so cruel.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine now.” Yuzu said and she wriggled out of the receptive hug she had pulled him into. She showed him her hand and glanced back at Reiji who stood, cast aside and awkwardly, “In exchange for my rescue and safety, I’ve had to promise myself to him.”

Reiji approached, trying to make himself seem small so as to make a good impression. Even though Shuzou could clearly see the devil in Reiji, his horns and his tail, he welcomed Reiji into his house, complete with a hug.

With Yuzu returned home and the rumours of the miller’s daughter who could spin straw into gold quelled, Reiji did disappear. He came and went as he pleased, more like a pet cat than a husband but in his attempt to shroud his mystique, his intentions only became clearer. Each stint of absence shortening and what he spent with Yuzu and her father lengthened. He had a job and it was not to grind flour or rice to powder, like Yuzu and her father, but he was still upholding the covenant that he owed to Yuzu. Eventually he and Yuzu welcomed a firstborn child into the world and he was beloved immensely by his unusual, little family and together, they lived happily ever after.

#100ships challenge #classicalshipping #akaba reiji #hiiragi yuzu #yuzu hiiragi #reiji akaba #yugioh #yugioh arc v #arc v #writing tag #i feel particularly proud of this one <:

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ditch-witches · 4 years

Text

Rehearsal Dinner (George MacKay Smut)

So @iongaa really came through and murdered us with the aesthetic. Mother of God, how is she so talented.

requested: yes/no (your requests are always so intriguing, keep sending weird AUs for us)

pairing: stepbro!George MacKay x reader

warnings: literally everything. all of the sins. whoever can point them out gets a high five, okay?

word count: 5,414 (yikes)

a/n: there,,,, may be a ,,, part 2,,, because some of us got carried away,,

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you made your way downstairs, basking in the scent of breakfast cooking over the stove. You took a seat at the kitchen table beside your dad's fiance. She smiled at you over the top of the morning paper, taking a sip of her coffee. Your father moved to set a plate in front of you and press a kiss to the top of your head before plopping down in the seat next to you. "Glad you're home," he cooed, grinning proudly as you took a bite of your collection of breakfast foods and nodded in approval. "Thank you for coming back for the wedding."

You sent him a small smile, "Of course!"

His fiance spoke up. "Speaking of, George should be on his way..." she trailed off as she looked at her watch and your heart sank.

"I thought he couldn't?" You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. George was the last person you wanted to be around. His cocky smirk flashed into your mind alongside his parade of girls he always brought home. Your parents had been dating for a few years now, most of your time in high school and well into your college years, yet the two of you had interacted as little as possible, only "playing nice" for Christmas. Every time the notion of George coming home came into discussion, you usually took off. Due to your ability now to escape from his arrogance, you hadn't seen him in a year, shoving the wedge between the two of you as much as possible. Your blood boiled as your memories of him taking up most of the couch and kicking you out of the house were unveiled.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" His mother asked, bringing you back into present time. You hadn't realized just how out of it you were until your fork fell from your hand, now bent almost completely in half. You exhaled, immediately apologizing for the vandalism and standing from the table, saying you were fine. "Are you sure?" She called after you.

You looked back over your shoulder, plastering on a fake smile. "Oh yeah! It's fine, everything's fine!" You all but sprinted for cover in your room, leaning against your door as your heart pounded in your chest. You let out a groan. Out of all people: George.

You pulled the sleeves of your blouse over your wrists to warm up more, yawning slightly as you lazily held a mock bouquet in your hand. You were mixed into the plethora of George's cousins serving as bridesmaids, feeling awkward and out of place as you only knew two of them really. You were the maid of honor, merely because it was your father that was getting married but you knew if he had any say, you would have been on his side and George in your place. In the excitement of family members arriving and the church being way too overbooked for the weekend, you had almost forgotten the impending doom that was "rushing to get here as we speak." You blew a bubble with your already stale gum, earning an eye roll from one of the many women. You tilted your head at her with a sarcastic grin.

The wedding planner clapped his hands, capturing the attention of the room and lining everyone up. He put you towards the back, which you were prepared for, yet then ushered the groomsmen in. You locked eyes with an all too familiar expression, your eyebrow raising at the man. His eyes were exactly the same, but for some reason, it was like puberty had hit him like a truck. "Now, this isn't usually how this works, but by request of the couple, we're switching things up," the planner groaned slightly, and George moved to stand beside you.

You snapped your eyes forward, clutching the bouquet in your hand tighter. There was chatter all around the two of you as everyone attempted to find their places. You kept your mouth shut, not wanting to make conversation with him. You took George's arm and he smirked down at you. "You gonna ignore me all night, darling?" He jeered, peering down at you and you rolled your eyes.

"What circus animal did you bring home this time, asshole?" He chuckled at your remark, pulling you tighter to his side.

He wet his lips. "Why? So you can get jealous again?"

You scoffed. "Grow up."

"After you, doll face." He bumped his hip against yours. "What have you been up to since I've been gone? Still a virgin?"

Your ears burned and you clenched your jaw. "Like it's any of your business." You sighed, attempting to calm your frazzling nerves at just his presence.

"You are so easy to stir up, love," he muttered, chuckling darkly.

You shut your eyes momentarily. "Would you just shut up so we can get this shitshow over?" He moved his hand to settle over yours positioned on his arm, your skin blazing at his touch, making you look up at him. He leaned towards your ear and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. The smell of his aftershave was almost enticing enough for you to forget you were hating him.

His breath was warm against your neck and his accent deep and fuzzy in your ear. "Oh, darling, what's the fun in that?" You felt flushed and winded as he stepped away from you, his hand leaving your arm. "Steady now. I don't wanna have to throw you over my shoulder," he muttered, a smug look on his face as he turned forward, his posture upturned. He knew what he was doing. You were slightly taken aback, snapping your mouth shut and letting him lead you towards the altar behind the other members of the wedding party. You were silent during the rehearsal, locking eyes with George every so often only to dart your gaze away from him. It was difficult to pay attention to the jokes the priest was making while George continued to undress you with his eyes, and for some reason, you were into it.

You were quiet on the trip to the dinner, your mind almost numb as your thoughts flashed to George's breath on your neck and his overstimulating smell, not to mention the feeling of his hands. You almost moaned before your mind jumped into the present, grateful because you were sandwiched between your grandmother and one of your uncles in the back of your father's car. One of your second cousins turned over his shoulder to look at you. "Who was the guy you were walking with? New stepbrother?" He jeered and your shoulders tensed at that thought. What the fuck, he was going to be your stepbrother.

"Yeah, that's George. Handsome kid, don't you think?" Your father piped up and you grimaced.

The cousin snorted. "Don't encourage that. They'll end up as the wHaT aRe yOU dOinG sTepBro trope." You signed deeply.

"My mother is in the car!"

"He's not my stepbrother," you grumbled, attempting to drone out his voice.

"Yet," he jested, making you roll your eyes. "If you're gonna tap it, tap it now-"

"We're listening to the radio, see!" Your dad intervened, cutting him off and turning up the radio while singing overdramatically to the music, leaving you now to your burning mind. You chewed on your fingernail as your anxiety began to shoot through the roof. Before you knew it, you were engaging in small talk with your cousin and her friend as the giant table was being set. Looking around at the expensive hall the dinner was being held in, the thought of how your father and future stepmother got the money for such a venue while putting one kid through college and the other through graduate school crossed your mind. Your cousin's friend was a nice way to get your mind off of George, he was funny and totally in love with your cousin, evident in the way his eyes brightened when she would talk to him or laugh at one of his jokes. The only eyes on you when you laughed were George's as he bantered with groups of men closer to his age across the room. He'd eye you over the brim of his glass, his strong hands making your mouth water as he would tap one of his rings against the crystal absentmindedly.

"So, how do you feel about your dad getting married? The new family giving you trouble?" Your cousin's friend asked, nudging your arm at his light-hearted joke.

You shrugged. "If he's happy, I'm happy. The woman he's marrying is a total badass too so, really it's fine." You ran a hand through your hair, shooting a glance towards George and he looked at you with a smirk. You felt like you needed a dousing of holy water to combat your temptations.

George seemed to be fighting his own urges as he excused himself from his party and walked over to your group, settling his hand on your lower back to whisper in your ear. "Come with me," he mumbled. "I'm going to steal her for a few minutes if that's okay with you guys?" He asked your cousin, her cheeks slightly red as she looked like she would swoon if he came near her. Her friend eyed you before the two shrugged you away with George. George walked beside you as the two of you walked out of the room and down the hall, turning a few corners until you could no longer hear the party. He slipped his hand into yours before pinning you to a wall swiftly.

"What are you doing?" You muttered unevenly, heat pulsing through your body as one of his hands rested on your hip, your hand absentmindedly pushed his sleeve up to expose his veiny arm to your touch. It was like your body had a mind of its own.

"You think I'm going to let you eye fuck me all night without repercussions, pet?" You swallowed at his words, the deepness of his voice making your legs almost jelly. His other hand ran up your body, over your breast to take part of your collar between his index and thumb as he rubbed the fabric between his finger pads. "Was that guy your little boyfriend?" He tisked darkly. "So cute," he mocked, his hungry eyes darting up to yours. Your mind was absolutely putty as his smell invaded your senses. You tried not to focus on his knee propped between your legs. His fingers ghosted against your neck until the pad of his thumb brushed over your bottom lip before you took his thumb into your mouth, your eyes burning into his as his jaw tensed, focused on the movements of your tongue swirling against it. The feeling of his fingers resting against your jaw during this action egged you. He drew his thumb from your mouth, running it down your chin before his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. "Dirty girl," he growled before crashing his lips against yours, making you moan against him as he pushed himself against you.

The taste of liquor on his lips blended with your flavored chapstick as your tongue slipped into his mouth. In a mess of tugging and biting each other, your body melted into his rough grasp. You wanted whatever repercussions his twisted mind could come up with. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. You fought against diving your hands into his trousers to beg him to continue, but he broke away from you as you fought to catch your breath. Your lips were buzzing as the feeling of him still lingered. He brought his hand back up to your jaw again, tipping your chin up. "Say it," the devil's grin painted across his face before he continued, pressing his lips against yours once more, his teeth dragging your bottom lip slowly between his teeth. "Say you're dirty, darling," he ordered, his face hovering over yours as his hand squeezed your throat.

You moaned quietly as he regulated your breathing with his hand. You wanted to drink in his dark, commanding appearance. "I'm dirty," you panted. He stepped away from you and you nearly slipped down the wall, completely out of breath and flustered, missing his hands on your body.

"Pull yourself together," he jested darkly, sending you a smoldering gaze as he pushed his other sleeve to his elbow. It's like he already knew your weaknesses. "Answer me."

"Yes, sir," you responded, your mouth seeming to know what he expected. He nodded with a smug expression as he gestured for you to walk back into the room with him while you straightened your shirt and fixed your hair.

He stopped you, reaching to fix your collar and you fought against the blush growing across your body. His smirk grew. "God, you're trembling. It'll be difficult leaving you alone at dinner," he almost groaned. You fought against kissing him again as his dark eyes surveyed your expression, the gears turning in his mind at the sight of you. God, you wanted him.

You were shoved into a seat beside George, he sent you a small grin as he took a sip of his drink and the waiters began to serve the main course. You were positioned towards the end of the table with the rest of your cousins and George on the line between the "cousins' table" and where the older people sat discussing politics and climate change. Your cousins mainly discussed hot TA's and movies that were premiering. "George, what's your major?" George perked up at a question directed to him, oozing charm as he began to tell one of the younger girls at the table about his degree, but half of his response fuzzed out of your attention as his hand slipped to your knee beneath the table cloth. You froze momentarily, your breath hitching in your chest as your chewing slowed.

It was like he was completely unaffected, continuing the conversation as his hand slid further up your thigh, fingers curling to wrap around your inner thigh. Your eyes snapped to him, pretending to listen to him as well as his fingers ran circles against your sensitive skin. You sighed unevenly. The fabric of your skirt was ruffled as he was slowly reaching your heat. The conversation deterred and George leaned towards you a bit. "Take a sip of water," he directed, lowly, his eyes tearing away from you. You furrowed your brows slightly but as his expression flipped, you didn't question him, raising the glass to your lips nonchalantly and one of his fingers brushed against your core, making you almost choke. He chuckled slightly. "Smooth?" He asked loud enough that it eased the slightly worried expressions directed towards you.

You set down your glass, coughing falsely. "Wrong pipe," you grumbled. His hand pushed your legs apart as he took a bite of his food, unbothered. His fingers ghosted against your underwear and you bit back a moan wanting to vibrate through your body.

"Hey, did you hear about that senator that died last week?" Someone asked you, knowing full well you kept up with information like that.

You shifted in your seat, looking like you were attempting to choose your words carefully, but in reality, you were trying to get George to leave you alone for a moment. "Heart attack right? It should be fine-" your voice cut out as George's finger moved your underwear to the side and he toyed with your nerves more. His face was so neutral it was like he wasn't pleasuring you at all as he chewed, listening to your words. "I mean," your voice came out unevenly as you tried to calm yourself against his movements. "He'll be replaced before something drastic can happen." Your voice dropped an octave as his finger slipped into you. He positioned his hand to a more comfortable angle and your hand dropped to wrap around his wrist, beginning him to stop. "Too bad this one wasn't an actor," you joked.

"So, how do they go about replacing a Senator?" George questioned, his face almost breaking into a smile as your eyes shot daggers into his. His finger curled inside of you, making you breathe deeply, your eyes wanting to squeeze shut in pleasure.

You furrowed your brows, feeling like you were running a marathon. "Oh, come on, I know you already know how the US system runs."

His finger sped up and before you knew it, another one was added. "Yeah, I'm still not entirely sure though." He continued to sidestep so the attention of the section of the table was on you. You clamped your thighs together, hoping to stop his movements but instead drew his fingers deeper into you.

Your mind blurred. "Well, um..." You wet your lips, trying not to look like you were jonesing to grind against George's palm to finally get yourself off. Your hand ran up against his arm again, the veins bulging as his hands quickened, making you see stars as your climax was almost within reach. George's mom and your dad began to make their rounds at the table, thanking people as they went.

"Are you okay? You look kind of flushed," George commented, making his mother's brow furrow. You sighed, wanting to dig your face into the crook of his neck or kiss him: anything, you just needed more of him. He removed his fingers from you and you let out a small noise, he slyly wiped his hands on his napkin and you grabbed his hand beneath the table, lacing your fingers and squeezing as if to motion your urgency.

George's mother pressed the back of her hand against your warm cheeks. "I'm fine..." you commented, looking up at her momentarily, your hand gripping onto George's.

His mother sighed. "Are you sure? I can drive you home if you're not feeling well?" Your father came around the table at her words and you were more embarrassed than anything.

"What's going on?" The man commented, his smile faltering.

His mother frowned. "She's not feeling well, dear."

"Don't worry about it, mum. I can take her," George piped up, running his thumb over the back of your hand before letting go of you and standing up. A chorus of goodbyes called to you as you assured your father and his future bride that you were really fine, just tired, as George helped you into your jacket. You found it difficult to stand with how unsatisfied you were. You followed him out into the cold air around one side of the building as he almost stalked to an expensive-looking car. Your eyebrow perked at the vehicle. "Like it?" He asked, his smug grin making your blood boil.

"What was that back there?" You nipped, pulling on his arm so he was looking at you, his grin widening.

"Which part?" He got dangerously close to you. "When you couldn't handle my fingers, or when you were begging me to get you off?" Your breathing shallowed once again, either from how furious you were at him or how turned on you were you didn't know. His hand settled on your neck, bringing your lips towards his briefly in a searing kiss. "Don't worry, love. You have it coming for you still." Fuck, you wanted him to rip you in half. He dangled the keys in front of your face. "Wanna drive?"

You groaned slightly, unlocking his car and opening the passenger door, shoving him inside and climbing into his lap, shutting the door behind yourself. "Fuck you," you bit. His grin darkened and he pulled the lever on the seat, laying the seat down a bit further. One of his large hands slipped against your thigh again, grabbing at your ass and urging you to grind against him while the other settled in the crook of your neck. You kissed him hungrily, your need pulsing through your body with your new-found friction. He moved beneath you, smiling against your greedy mouth, knotting his fingers into your hair. You felt him getting harder with each of your movements. You fisted your hands in his jacket as you pulled away from him curling your hips to find your sweet spot. His hand explored your body, gripping your breast as he sucked at the thin skin against your collarbones, moaning into your hair.

God, he wasn't even inside of you but his encouragement was a high you wanted to ride as long as you could. His fingers dug into your hips and you half hoped he would leave bruises. You wanted him to mark you. The car windows began to fog as your movements and George's warm breath filled the air. "Fuck, I want you," he growled into your ear.

"Take me home," you almost whimpered, halting your actions. His hand moved to your neck again, pressing his lips against yours.

"Beg," he demanded. "Tell me exactly what you want, baby."

"I said take me home," you breathed. His dark eyes searched yours for submission, but you were quite flustered from tonight's events. You needed a few moments to collect your thoughts on what George could be thinking about doing to you as 'punishment'. You climbed off of him into the driver's seat ready to take his car for a spin. You noticed just how much George's actions had affected you as you felt your hands shaking to take the wheel. You could feel his eyes raking over you as you put the car in drive. You were determined to make it home in one piece and not a complete puddle of need, but even the thought of his eyes on you were making that task completely impossible.

"What to do, what to do," he almost tsked next to you. "You've really got me going tonight haven't you," he seemed to ask, but you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. You could feel his warm hand coming into contact with your leg, you wet your lips, attempting to shake the thought of desire he seemed to be flooding you with and keep the car under control. His hand slowly started to progress further towards your heat and for the second time tonight, you weren't all that opposed to the thought of his long fingers curling inside you again.

"We're here," you managed to squeak out. George was already out and at your door before you had managed to undo your seatbelt. He bent down, reached over you and undid it for you, making sure to keep his contact with every inch of you he could. His arms scoped you up to carry you into the house and up the stairs to his room. You hadn't been to his room since you had met him. It was sort of like a secret law that it was off-limits and a privilege if you were invited inside. Not even his mom was allowed into the dwellings of his layer. You had just enough time to notice the picture on the dresser was of the two of you and your blend of cousins posed on the family couch last Christmas before your body was thrust on to the linen-covered mattress. You had never seen his eyes this shade before, they were so dark and full of lust. You were drinking in every detail of him just as much as he was of you.

"Take your clothes off," he stated smoothly standing at the foot of the bed, eyes locked on your body. Complying quickly, you unbuttoned your blouse, slipping it off your shoulders to reveal your flushed chest. George's eyes widened at the sight knowing you were already in such need of him you could barely contain yourself any longer. He slowly mimicked your actions removing his dress shirt leaving you in awe of the man standing before you and the endless possibilities of what he wanted to do to you. His fingers danced up your legs teasing your all too sensitive core. His fingers traced your center just barely being covered by the cloth entrapment. You were ready for anything he was willing to give you. His body shifted, his arm reaching across you into the bedside drawer and revealing a pair of bright red furry handcuffs. Your breath caught in your throat, this was not what you were expecting and still, you felt ready for George's idea of punishment. You had never been bound before, but were more than ready to try anything to overcome your excessive need for friction.

"Place your hands out in front of you," he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine. You did as you were told feeling the faux material covered clasp around your wrists leaving your arms entirely under the command of George. You heard the clang of other cuffs being brought out, you turned your attention to him just as his lips crashed on to yours sealing your lips into a lustful kiss. His hands outlined your arms all the way to your wrists that were held together. His fingers wrapped around the metal pushing your arms above your head and locking them against the headboard. Your heart pounded with excitement as he traced your body down with kisses, brushing the inside of your thighs with his hands. You knew where this was leading and your body was ready. His actions halted just above where you needed him the most as he locked eyes with you almost teasing you with anticipation. "Tell me what you need," his dark tone murmured. You had no words. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The only action you were capable of was attempting to open your legs to answer his question.

His toned arms slipped under your legs wrapping around your hips as he positioned himself between you. Your toes curled in pleasure as his warm breath drew closer to you. It seemed as if time was in slow motion: you needed him and you needed him now. His eyes were still locked on yours as he came in contact with your heat. Your legs attempted to close in response to the feeling as you moaned in pain and pleasure from the restraints holding you back from grabbing his hair. The rumble of his laughter against you was almost enough to send you over the edge as he pushed your legs back open for better access to you. The sight of him down on you was more than enough to drive you crazy, but his pace was beginning to quicken and you didn't think you could last much longer. Your eyes drifted shut as pleasure was taking the better of you. George slipped a finger inside earning a gasp from your lips as he began to finger fuck you. Your high was approaching quickly and you needed more. "Faster," you mumbled.

"What was that sweetheart," George muttered against you.

"Faster," you begged. George complied, seeing you like this was driving him crazy. His fingers pounded into you as he sucked your nub. The knot in your stomach tightened. Finally, you were able to get relief from the tension George had built up all night as you released. "Oh fuck," you moaned as George hovered above you.

"Ready for round two love," he quipped darkly. You were more than happy to accept his rough kisses. His slight stubble was rough against your chin, you knew you'd pay for it in the morning, but tonight a little burn was the least of your worries. "Are you going to do as you're told," he whispered into your neck, accent gruff and domineering.

"Yes sir," you responded almost too naturally as his strong arms flipped you unto your stomach. He adjusted your knees underneath you so that you had support underneath him.

His hand wound into your hair as he slipped inside of you and began thrusting leaving you no time to adjust to him. Moans of pure bliss escaped your lips as his head neared yours. "Might want to keep quiet, love, someone's home," he whispered, his teeth grazing your ear lobe. Your need to scream for more now had to be muted and the only sound heard was the slapping of his skin against yours. George used your hips as leverage for his unwavering pace leaving you a mess of pleasure beneath him. His lips found their way to your neck as he nipped against the sensitive skin. You wanted him to mark you, to claim you. His hand from your hair became wrapped around your throat as he began to reach his peak. His hand slapped your ass with such force you knew there was a handprint, but you were too overwhelmed with the noises escaping his lips and your high threatened to disobey your control to be concerned with the sting. If anything it threatened to push you over the edge. George could feel you threatening to release. His strong hand wrapped tightly around your neck again, "Don't cum until I give you permission," he mumbled darkly against your shoulder. You tried your best to obey him fighting all erg to give in to the pleasure he teased you with. Slowing his pace he thrust deeper into you earning quiet moans from your lips. You couldn't hold on much longer.

"Can I cum," you whined. George grunted in response tangling his hand in your hair and thrusting deeper into you hitting your sweet spot with every move.

"Cum for me love," he practically bit against your shoulder sending you into a scream of pleasure as you were finally able to ride out your high against him. You could feel him twitch inside of you filling you with warmth. He unchained your hands from the bed frame allowing your body to return to your back. He flopped next to you and kissed you lightly. "That was amazing," he whispered against your lips. Exhausted from the escapade of the night you simply laid your head on his chest in response and pulled the sheets up for the both of you to drift off to sleep.

Your head pounded as you opened your eyes, the blinding light streaming through your windows serving to ruin your morning. You shivered slightly, realizing you were fully naked and a slight panic set in as you thought about last night, your body already aching from George's tactics. You shut your eyes momentarily, thinking about him on top of you once again, moaning in your ear, his hand around your throat, and realized the aching was worth it. You weren't surprised when you found the bed beside you empty, your ears perking up at the muffled sounds of someone in the kitchen. You quickly got dressed and trampled down the stairs. Upon entering the kitchen, you were greeted by your father like he had the day before, only instead of a woman at the head of the table, George smirked up at you. Your eyes glued to his, your body feeling heat once again.

You cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together. "I thought the bride and groom weren't supposed to see each other until the wedding?" You asked, voice slightly uneven as you took a seat across from George, gingerly sipping the orange juice in front of you and attempting not to wince at the beard burn on your chin from George's slight whiskers the night before. George watched you carefully, a flash of pride in his eyes at your flustered state.

George's mother chuckled. "There are worse things to doom a marriage," she joked, flashing a wink up towards your father who was cutting some kind of fruit.

He shook his head. "So, where did you two run off last night?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Bonding," George answered coolly.

His mother raised her eyebrows. "Bonding? How? Wasn't she sick last night?"

Your mind was blank, but George was quick on his feet. "She got to feeling better on the way, so I took her to a strip club. She left with a man named," he paused, turning to you, a smug look on his face, "what was his name? Alejandro?"

Your eyes went wide with shock. "Ah! That's my girl!" Your dad called from over the stove and you groaned as George laughed making your eye twitching.

#george mackay x reader #george mackay smut #george mackay imagines #george mackay #1917 imagines #1917 smut #requested

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

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Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER THREE: CHANGING TUNE

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 2646 Rating: T - angst (self esteem issues/abandonment issues) canon-typical language A/N: This here is a Cheese sandwich on Whole Angst Toast. I also feel like I should say thanks to the folks who made some suggestions for me, even though I ended up going with a different song.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

“Shit,” you muttered, looking up with a grimace of disgust, half-poking your head out from under the awning. You had forgotten your umbrella on your way to work earlier that afternoon, and had spent the whole shift praying that the rain would hold off long enough for you to get home. Unfortunately, it hadn’t and was coming down hard.

“Sean…” you whined, turning pleading eyes on your cousin.

“No. Y/N, you know I love you, but I can’t. I’m supposed to meet Riley right after work,” he said. “And I’ve already been late to her place three times this month.”

“You’re just going to ‘watch a movie’ and then kick her roommate out so you can fuck. How is that something you can be late for?” you said petulantly.

Derek guffawed. “She’s got you there, man.”

“Just for that,” Sean said, waggling a finger at you mockingly. “Even if I could have given you a lift, I wouldn’t.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, making Derek laugh even more, until you turned your childish, affronted glare on him.

“I’m glad you find it so amusing that my cousin, my own flesh and blood, would betray me like this,” you huffed dramatically.

Sean rolled his eyes.

“I could walk you home,” Derek offered with a shrug.

You eyed him suspiciously.

“I don’t have an umbrella but it wouldn’t be so bad with company right...like I dunno, solidarity?”

“You’re just hoping the rain will be enough to make my work blouse see-through, aren’t you?” you teased.

“What, nah! I’m a gentleman, I swear,” he said, placing a hand over his heart. “I want to make sure you get home, that’s all.”

“Don’t you have your car tonight?” Sean pointed out.

“Come on man, why you gotta blow my cover like that?” Derek hissed with a laugh.

“What was that about being a gentleman?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“Alright, so it was a little bit about tryin to see your titties. But can you blame me, I mean come on, girl, you’re gorgeous.”

“You are such a dick,” you cried, laughing, punctuating your words by playfully batting at him with fists and the sides of your hands.

He yelped, ducking your ‘blows’, trying to hide behind Sean and the podium.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Mercy!” he gasped through his laughter. “I’ll drive you home, just stop hitting me.”

Immediately, you let up on your attack. “You don’t have to, honestly,” you said, waving aside the offer. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure you can’t actually drown in the rain.”

“You were gonna let Sean drive you.”

“Yeah. But he’s family. He’s supposed to help even when it’s an inconvenience. You have no such obligation.”

“That’s what friends are for though, right?” Derek asked.

“You’re not an inconvenience,” Sean protested at the same time. “Usually.”

“Friends don’t let friends drive the opposite direction of home just because the drivee friend forgot an umbrella in Portland. That’s like forgetting sunglasses in L.A.”

Sean sighed, rolling his eyes. “Y/N. Just take the ride. Or don’t and get totally soaked. I’m sure your uniform will dry out in the...thirteen hours before you have to be back here.” He shrugged with a pointed look at his watch.

Somehow, in the course of the conversation, the rain had picked up even further, now pounding down in sheets. Very cold sheets. You looked at the waterfalls off the awning with disdain.

With a grumble and a reluctant protest, you agreed to let Derek drive you home.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Derek navigated the slick Portland streets. You gazed out the passenger side window, lost in random thought, listening passively to the radio, until you became aware of something beneath the sounds through the speakers, almost hidden by the thrumming bass.

Slowly, you realized that it was Derek, singing along.

You felt your breath catch, turning to stare at him in awe. He was really, really good. Trying not to call attention to the fact that you were listening, you shifted in your seat, tuning out the radio to focus on him. It was a crooner’s voice at heart, like smoke and honey, soft and warm with sharper hints of something more versatile and modern. You felt hypnotised as several songs went by, drawn in like a magnet to his sound. At the points it lacked technical brilliance, it was made better for its honesty, like no matter what he was singing, he meant it with heart and soul.

Eventually, Derek seemed to notice your attention.

“Y/N?” he asked, his normal conversational tone jolting you out of the near-trance he had lulled you into. “You alright?”

“I didn’t know you could sing,” you blurted, voice breathy and soft with awe.

A deep red color crept up his neck, splaying out over his ears and face all the way to the hairline and maybe beyond. He chuckled nervously. It was honestly kind of adorable, and you mentally kicked yourself as the thought crossed your mind. This was Derek you were talking about. The only way he should be paired with that word was if it was in the sentence ‘look at the adorable kitten/puppy Derek is holding.’

“It’s just along to the radio, nothing special dawg,” he rushed to claim.

“No. I heard the radio, and I heard you. That was different, you were different. And better.”

“You’re just sayin that.”

“Have I ever said something nice to you just to say something nice?” you asked, your face skeptical.

He laughed, unable to stop himself. “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented me at all before.”

“Kind of proving my point for me, aren’t you?”

He snorted.

“I’m serious. Definitely the kind of voice that teenage girls would pay too much money for tickets just to scream over it in a concert.”

“Ya think?” there was a note of hopeful excitement in his question, and he seemed to turn even redder at your words.

“I mean, I’m no expert,” you shrugged. “But I did used to be one. A teenage girl that is.”

“Huh.”

Silence, save for the upbeat pop song now playing in the background, settled back over the car as he continued to drive, pondering what you said, and you let your thoughts drift aimlessly.

“So what about you?” Derek suddenly asked, making you jump again.

“What about me?” you asked.

He paused, a spark of tension crackling between you. He reached a hand to scratch at the back of his neck.

“I mean, were you...did you used to scream over boybands and shit?” he finally managed to say.

“Nah. I never had the money for concerts. Besides,” you flashed him a sheepish half-smile. “I liked some of it, but my taste was mostly more along the lines of Bowie, Broadway, and Cash than it was Fall Out Boy or whoever.”

He seemed to consider this. “Maybe I’ll have to learn some of that for you then.”

“I bet you could do a good Life on Mars,” you suggested genuinely. “Still won’t get you in my pants though.” You couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips.

“Ouch!” he laughed with mock-hurt. “You still think I’m just playin you?”

“Obviously,” you shrugged. “I’m too smart to think otherwise.”

‘No matter how much I wish you weren’t,’ you thought fleetingly.

Derek frowned, catching something in your tone, below your usual teasing. Something...sad? No, defeated?

“You don’t think I could be serious? Or...actually into you?”

“Please,” you scoffed.

His frown deepened, hurt that no matter how close you’d gotten of late or how you acted, you still thought that low of him.

“I know I’m not really someone worth sticking around for,” you said softly. “And you’re sweet sometimes, but...that doesn’t change facts.”

He opened his mouth to protest but you kept talking.

“My own parents figured that out, I’m sure you will too. Everyone does. I don’t even mind anymore,” you chuckled bitterly. “It’s just the trying to pretend otherwise that hurts.”

He was silent, unsure where to even start. He wanted to tell you that you were wrong, he wanted to prove it. He wanted to keep the tears he could see building up from ever falling.

The car slowly rolled to a stop outside your apartment. He realized that somewhen the rain had let up to a fine drizzle, but the gloom had moved inside the car instead. You flashed him a smile that didn’t meet your eyes.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, leaning slightly on the doorframe as you got out, and wringing your hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And...uh...try not to worry about what I said. It’s...no big deal.”

The car door sounded heavier than ever as it closed and you headed up the walk, turning briefly as you put your key in the lock to wave.

He continued to sit there, well after you had disappeared inside, trying to wrap his head around what had passed between you. Eventually, he had an idea.

“Sean!” he said into his phone when the Irishman in question finally answered. “Yo, I know you’re wit’ your girl, but this is important.”

A week or so later, Derek offered you a ride home again, even though this time it was a perfectly clear night, if a little chilly. There was no need for it, and equally no need to agree.

“Sure,” you said, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket and leaning against the building. “If you really want.”

“Great,” he smiled and there was no guile or joke or performance in it, just him, happy that you’d agreed. “We just gotta cash out with Nino and then we’ll go?”

You nodded. Sean lingered at the door, a smug, knowing look on his face.

“What?” you asked, defensive.

“Nothing, nothing. Just quite the shift from ‘oh no I don��t want to be a bother,’” he said in a tone that you thought was meant to be an impression of you, but a very bad one. “To ‘sure, Derek, I’d love a ride home.’” He batted his eyelids for added effect.

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled, feeling your face heat.

“Admit it. You’re into him.”

“You’re impossible.”

“That’s not a no.”

“You’re right...it’s not.” You looked down, fiddling with a pen you had found still stashed in your pocket.

Sean’s eyes widened. “Really?” He couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice.

You countered it with a glare. “Keep your mouth shut. And go cash out, before you get ripped off by your alleged best friend.”

You settled easily into the pleather passenger seat; Derek started the engine and the radio crackled on. You closed your eyes, letting the music wash over your exhausted mind, secretly hoping that he’d sing again. It only took a moment to register this was very different music than what he’d been playing the other night, but before you could ask about it, he started in, humming the opening, gradually gaining energy until he was belting out the lyrics.

“Thanks to you, Bonnie babe, I can make plans again. I've got lots o' reasons to keep livin' Its true that love can set you free, And this world will remember me.”

Swept up in the moment, you answered with the next verse in equal passion and drama.

“You said you'd go straight. Clyde, I wanna be in movies. I can't name one movie star who's doin' robberies on the side. I know in my heart, babe, that Hollywood is callin', How can I be in the spotlight if we always have to hide?”

The pair of you grinned at each other as you continued the back and forth, voices syncing surprisingly well for having never sung together before. You couldn’t help the sort of giddy rush you felt, losing yourself in the music and the character.

As the last note chopped off, you reached over, turning the radio down enough to have a conversation over it.

“You’re pretty good at that, Bonnie,” he joked.

“It helps to have a good partner, Clyde.” You winked dramatically.

“I try, I try.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you might see a hint of color on his cheeks.

“You know,” you mused, with a quirk of an eyebrow, “I didn't take you for a Bonnie and Clyde fan, so I’m guessing it didn’t just happen that you were listening to one of my favorite musicals.”

“It kinda did,” his mouth twisted ruefully. “I know you said to forget it, but I couldn’t stop thinkin about the other night and I,” he glanced over at you, checking to see if you were angry before continuing, “wanted to show you that you’re important to people, that we...I...care about you. So I asked Sean what some of your favorite songs and stuff were.”

You swallowed, fighting back a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm you. Still, when you spoke, your voice came out soft and breaking. “Oh.”

“I was gonna surprise you by learning some and then find an excuse to sing 'em for you or with you or something, but this is the only one I got so far, and it was by accident.”

“What do you mean?” Curiosity overrode everything else for the moment.

“It just gets stuck in your head man. I’ve been listening to it for days.”

You joined in his laughter. “It does doesn’t it?”

“I can’t figure it out.”

“Probably because it’s so relatable. The dressing’s complicated, but in the end it’s just about people in love, people with dreams.”

He fell quiet, considering.

Something hung over the pair of you that you couldn’t quite find a name for, or didn’t want to maybe. It felt safe though, whatever it was, and you wanted to cling to it.

Not sure what else to say or do, you nudged the volume up and threw yourself back into the musical, hiding yourself in Bonnie Parker for a time.

That girl's got somethin' Nothing scares her Only piece of luck that's ever come my way

Derek was singing softly, and his hand reached out, fingers tentatively brushing against yours. It was on instinct that you turned your hand and slipped your fingers through his, lacing them together for a moment, the action just feeling right. Seconds later, your mind caught up to what your body had done and you recoiled, jerking away as if his touch had burned you.

“I don’t know why I...I mean I wasn’t...I...sorry,” you stammered.

“Don’t be,” he replied with a half-hearted shrug. “You uh, you have soft hands.”

Almost in a whisper, he added, “I liked it. I wanna keep holding your hand, if you want me to.”

You glanced down at his still outstretched hand, and then back up at his face. He stared resolutely ahead, eyes fixed on the road, as if that could hide the waiting tension that he practically hummed with. He’d told you, in a way, how he felt and now he was leaving it up to you.

Hesitantly, you reached back, sliding your fingers back to where they’d been. You chewed on your lip, staring nervously at the juncture where your skin touched, mind racing. You weren’t sure what it meant, or how it would change things, and you were afraid. Derek was already important to you (you took a moment to marvel at that change, wondering when exactly it had happened). If you let the connection grow…You debated retracting your hand. At least if you pulled back, it would be your choice, for once, to lose.

You felt a slight pressure as he squeezed your hand comfortingly and flashed you a grin. You smiled back.

Maybe this — maybe Derek — was worth the risk.

#another self-indulgent chapter #because as soon as I learned Carlito Olivero is a singer I had to work Derek singing in somewhere #is it relationship progression? maybe #but like in the way 5ft feels like progress in a traffic jam #Derek Sandoval x reader #Bad Samaritan fic #Idiot (Affectionate)

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crossiantgay · 3 years

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I Shall Say Goodbye Till It Be Morrow

Logince, fantasy AU! Pt 2 coming soon!

He looked out, over the balcony watching the sun set over the horizon. He was the prince; he was supposed to love his life. It has so turned out, that most days he had turned to envying the commoner. With his wealth and lavish lifestyle came the shackles of responsibility and no control over his future. The air was sticky and humid, and the setting sun gave the air a hazy glow. His light, white blouse ruffled in the wind and he felt his caramel hair brush against his face. He heard the steady beat of footsteps behind him and he turned. Everyone was supposed to head home, it was long past working hours. When he turned, he saw his pageboy, Logan (insert last name) approach. He had ditched his navy-blue suit for just his white button-up shirt, almost similar to Roman’s own shirt. He stepped next to Roman, leaning over the balcony.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it” His voice sounded distant and monotone, but still had the warm undertones Logan often had in his voice. It was only a few seconds later, Roman realized he was expecting an answer.

“Oh-yes. I suppose.” Roman drummed his fingers on the banister and Logan turned to him.

“Is something bothering you, my prince?” there was worry etched into his face, the concern all-so-subtly seeping into his voice. He sighed.

“Oh, it’s nothing. You know the princess of Lancaster?” Roman looked back out over the village below.

“The daughter of our known enemy? Why yes, I am fairly familiar with her” Roman licked his lips nervously. The summer heat was making his lips crack and blister and it was rather unpleasant.

“I am supposed to marry her in 3 months’ time”

“Oh-” Logan’s voice sounded hollow, like someone had pulled the floor out from underneath him but his expression stayed unreadable.

“And, to be honest?” Roman turned back to the man, waving one arm about. “I don’t even like women.” Logan quirked an eyebrow.

“This particular woman? Or-” Roman shook his head.

“All women. No princess has made my heart skip beats like a man with tousled hair and a well-trimmed suit.” Roman didn’t notice Logan unconsciously run a hand through his own hair.

“If I am to be… wholly honest with you, I have felt a similar way in recent months.” Logan tried to trace Roman’s gaze, find out exactly where he was looking. “I thought I was crazy. It’s great to know that I am not the only one who feels this way.” Roman gave him a small, uneasy smile. He paused and drew his lips in a thin line.

“Did you know that there is no law that forbids a man from marrying another man?”

“I-no. That is rather intriguing, thank you.” Logan gave a curt nod as silence passed between them, Roman draping his arms over the railing, unease clouding his mind.

“I’m headed for a future I don’t even want.” Logan’s expression softened into something sympathetic and caring before fixing his eyes on the horizon line. Logan carefully reached out his hand, putting it on Roman’s. To his surprise, Roman didn’t pull away but refused to meet his eyes. They stayed like that in comfortable silence as the sun set past the horizon line.

__________________

Roman waved his maid away.

“If you keep messing with my hair, it might fall out!” he ran his hands through his hair, fixing it to his liking.

“My apologies, your majesty. However, I believe you are ready!” Roman stood in front of the mirror, admiring the suit. It was a red suit jacket with gold fastenings and trim, with a white undershirt and black dress pants. His maid hurried behind him.

“Oh my! How could I forget the most important piece of all!” The maid delicately placed the gold, ruby and sapphire-studded crown atop his head. He straightened his posture and gave one glance back at himself before walking out to the ballroom. There was the drone of chatter along with the distant hum of classical music. He scanned the crowd for faces he recognized, only to find none. He made sure to keep distance from his father along with the princess, beelining it for the concessions. He stumbled into a few people, mutter half-hearted apologies, keeping his head down and his crown straight. Someone grabbed his arm and he jerked back.

“Well isn’t it Roman Cassanova!” He pulled his head up to look at whoever grabbed him, searching his memory for this person. They were clearly important, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no-

“..hey.” The person hit him hard on the back and he coughed, immediately talking his ear off. He zoned in and out of the conversation, trying to keepy up when amongst the rambling he heard ‘my daughter’ and something that sounded like ‘marriage’. His blood ran cold and he tried to say something, but what to say to your future father in law? His stomach churned at the thought. As if someone has answered his silent prayers, an arm looped around his waist.

“My highness, the king requires your attention immediately.” Roman recognised the voice immediately.

“Ah, yes. Thank you. I shall-have to attend to that as soon as possible” he blurted out as Logan tugged him away.

“ah, thank you. A tap on the shoulder would have sufficed” He said when he finally gained his footing, when they were out of earshot.

“Oh, please. You looked like dying cattle, I did you a favor.” Roman finally got a glance of his ‘knight in shining armor’ and his breath caught in his throat. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. Logan smirked.

“What was that, my prince?” In truth, it was hard to see without his signature glasses but his jawline and cheekbones and oh my I think I might faint- he finally gathered himself and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t believe that is how you should be talking to the future king” He stuck his chin up exaggeratedly and stuck out his tongue.

“Ah yes, real mature your majesty.” A waiter walked by and roman grabbed two glasses of wine from his tray, handing one to Logan.

“Are you sure? You’re not legal yet-” Roman waved a hand dismissively as he took a sip, shaking his head.

“I have what, 4 months ‘till my birthday? The marriage is in two months so- 5 months. Close enough.” Logan shook his head and took a sip, eyeing Roman carefully. A hush fell over the room as the orchestra picked up. Roman finished his drink and looked up at him, placing it on the passing waiter’s trays.

“Logan?” he batted his eyes and Logan stepped back.

“No. no- no.” He shook his head but Roman continued, offering out a hand.

“Logan, may I have this dance?” Logan sighed, taking his hand.

“Fine. You may.” Logan took his head and was caught off-guard when Logan placed a hand on the small of his back. It did make sense, considering Logan was the taller one but Roman wasn’t super familiar with the ladies’ part in this dance. Roman placed his hand on Logan’s shoulder and Logan smiled slightly. They fell into a steady rhythm of dancing and they moved across the ballroom, Roman temporarily forgetting everyone else existed. That was, until the song ended and Logan and him stayed holding onto each other. Roman stumbled back when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he felt the world crashing down around him as he realized it was the princess. Logan dropped Roman and Roman wanted to mourn the warmth, but knew where his priorities stood. He pretended the touch was just him reaching for Logan’s drink, because that was clearly the case, totally, and downed it in seconds. It was only right after he did so, that he realized Logan had not had champagne like he had, rather a much stronger liquor. The room spun around him.

“Uh-hi” he said, trying to get his eyes to focus on the subject in front of him.

“Hello, I assume you recognise me?” Her eyes flicked uncertainly to Logan, who stepped away.

“Yes, I do. You are Bella Lancaster, yes?” Roman needed to get out of here, and fast. He felt as if any moment the floor would fall out from under him.

“I am. And you are Roman Cassanova.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her glove. “Fantastic. Okay. Yes” She looked off, as well. Though why he couldn’t tell. “I must go check on my-- my father” She smiled a bit and walked off and Roman made sure to count his lucky stars.

“You should go.” Roman spun around and immediately regretted it, falling into Logan’s arms.

“nOoO” Roman said, a bit too loudly, turning heads around them. Logan clamped a hand on his mouth before pulling away quickly.

“Ew! Why did you lick me?” Logan said in a hushed voice, wrinkling his nose and wiping his hand on his pants.

“Be lucky it was your hand this time, mi amor.” Roman said, clearly losing it and Logan flushed a glorious shade of scarlet. Roman had lost all sense of filter, something that was definitely required as a prince.

“Maybe we should take you to bed,” Logan said, looking out at the numerous people staring at them.

“Mhmm, bed, I like the sound of that” He purred and Logan sighed.

“You are drunk off your ass and not thinking straight. You need to get out of here before you make a scene” Roman huffed, leaning more into Logan.

“Whatever you say..” he grumbled. “Your majesty…” his tone turned softer and his eyes fixed on something behind Logan.

“N-no. Let’s go” He gripped Roman’s hand, in less of a handhold but more of a means to tug him along. Roman pouted the whole way as Logan did his best to discreetly tug him out of the ballroom, which went both well and not. Luckily, they avoided the king’s eyes but caught the likes of many onlookers, as Logan assured them that princey here had just had a bit too much. Once they were out of sight, Logan scooped Roman up in his arms and raced up the steps.

“Woahhh” Roman giggled, with a case of the hiccups “You’re strongggg” Once they had made it to prince’s chambers, Logan set Roman down and unlocked the door with surprising ease. Roman stumbled into the room, pulling Logan in by his jacket.

“Roman!-” With one final tug, he pulled Logan onto the bed.

“You thought I was done with you? Not even close” Logan felt his once-gone blush returning as the prince fiddled with the fasteners on his jacket.

“Nope nope nope nope nope-” Logan sat up quickly, pulling the prince’s hands from his jacket, running his thumbs over the scarred knuckles.

“You’re intoxicated and about to do something you’ll regret.” He looked him in the eyes and Roman looked away.

“But I want this-no- I want you.” Logan’s expression softened.

“Darling, the wedding’s in a couple months. I don’t want to make anything harder for you.” A choked sob ripped its way out of Roman’s throat and Logan pulled him closer. Roman tucked his head in the crook of his neck.

“I never wan-” He gasped, trying to catch his breath as more tears rolled down his cheeks. “I never wanted this! Th-these responsibilities a-and arranged marriages a-and-” Logan shushed him gently.

“It’s okay. I’m right here, you’re okay.” Roman looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks and uncertain eyes. Logan pressed a kiss to his forehead that lingered for a bit too long, breath ghosting over the skin. He pressed another kiss, this time to cheek, before another and another and another, touching every inch of exposed skin they could find as Roman’s mind went foggy, too overwhelmed by this absolutely wonderful sensation to even think. He feels a semblance of pressure at the back of his head, where Logan has his fingers threaded into Roman’s caramel locks, barely tethered there by the hand on his waist as Logan pulls his head up, looking at Roman with half-lidded eyes.

“What about ‘not making anything harder for me?’” Roman says, a playful smirk evident on his face.

“If you’ll allow me to indulge in a bit of selfishness, your majesty” Logan finally utters, his voice so much richer than Roman remembers; like the distant rumble of storm clouds.

“Yes,” Roman says, barely a whisper. “Please, yes” With that phrase, Logan captures Roman’s lips in a deep kiss, eyes fluttering shut despite himself. Roman blindly grasps for something to pull Logan closer, something to anchor him in this moment.

________________________

Loud footsteps can be heard from outside as Logan, who has been awake for about 3 and a half whole minutes, shakes Roman awake.

“Huh? Who-” Roman groans as his suit uncomfortably pinches at his sides, very obviously not meant for sleepwear. Logan pointed towards the door and Roman noticed the heavy footsteps, which could only mean one thing. He looked to his side, about to urge Logan to hide only to find Logan was already under the bed, hidden by the maroon bedskirt. Roman sat up, trying to make himself look as presentable as possible as his father burst into the room.

“Morning, son!” He bellowed and Roman winced, becoming acutely aware of his hangover. Roman blinked slowly, trying to wake himself up.

“You look a little out of sorts. Get yourself ready and come downstairs! I hope you haven’t forgotten about our Day Of The Sun banquet?” Roman’s eyes went wide as he cursed himself. It was the summer solstice; where for the whole day a large party would be held across the kingdom. The festivities last night were just a precursor to that and this was definitely not the day to have a huge hangover and your assistant in your bed. Wait, how did Logan get here? His memory stopped after his talk with the princess.

“Well see you down there, then…” The king trailed off, noticing his son staring at the wall and the look of distant fear in his eyes. He walked out, shutting the door behind him. Logan crawled out from underneath the bed, brushing himself off and laying beside Roman.

“We should get ready,” Logan mused, taking in the prince once more.

“What happened, exactly?” Roman asked tentatively and Logan’s cheeks went dark red.

“Uhm, we kissed…” Logan said, avoiding Roman’s eyes and Roman blushed a similar color, envying the red curtains hanging in front of his windows. He, Prince Roman, heir to the throne of Cassanova, has kissed his assistant of 7 years. With his awaiting marriage in two months’ time.

“Oh my” he whispered and Logan smiled at the remark.

“Mm. Now we really should get ready, my rose-er, highness.” Logan stood up quickly and Roman shook his head.

“‘My rose’ sounds better. Less formal.”

“Noted.” He nodded a bit, trying to ignore the pinkish color of his cheeks. He paused for a moment. “I should get ready. Well, you too. We should get ready.” Logan gave a curt nod. Roman laughed a bit under his breath and stood up. He took Logan’s face in one hand and kissed it.

“I suppose we shall,” he flipped through his closet, looking for something light enough in the summer heat. He finally found another white blouse, frowning a bit as he put it on.

“My hi-my rose-” Logan buried his face in his hands, looking between the gaps in his fingers and Roman shrugged. Logan went back to his chambers to change, Roman changing into black shorts. Finally, he grudgingly placed the crown atop his head. Everything he had grown to loathe incarnated into some dingy piece of jewelry. Logan returned a few minutes later, thankfully this time with his glasses, with a white button-up shirt unconsciously unbuttoned at the top and black suspenders. His black hair was messy and fluffy due to the humidity. Roman blushed when he saw Logan, stammering. Logan let out a puff of air, snickering.

“You look lovely, my rose” he offered out his hand and Roman took it.

“As do you, my love” he smiled as Logan placed a kiss to his forehead.

“We should head downstairs,” Logan chided gently and Roman paused.

“Just a few more minutes. I enjoy being here with you”

______________________

The festivities were long underway, Roman hovering by Logan’s side the whole time as they talked with the common folk, eating all the delectable foods the carts outside the castle had to offer and embracing the enticing atmosphere. When the sun was just past halfway in the sky, one of the servants approached them.

“Sir Logan, your family requests your attention immediately.” Logan’s brow furrowed as Roman held his hand tightly.

“They live on the other side of the Alabaster River, why do they call for me- they know I have my responsibilities here-”

“Your mother has fallen ill” the servant bowed and Logan’s blood ran cold. He nodded, shifting closer to Roman. He gave a curt nod, leaning over to whisper in Roman’s ear.

“A week from now, meet me outside the city of Eastview at sunset.” Logan stepped away and Roman frowned, hurrying to the nearest carriage.

________________________

Roman stood at the edge of his balcony, overlooking the edge to the drop below. It had been a week since Logan’s mysterious absence, and of course it took the King no time to appoint another in his position, a short and snooty page with a shrill voice who always insisted Roman was wrong, constantly babying him. Roman threw the rope over the edge of the balcony, double, triple-knotting it to the banister. With shaky hands, he slowly began his descent. He felt like fainting when he finally felt dirt beneath his feet, in all fairness climbing rope was not his area of expertise. He shook himself off before running to the stable, shushing the horses and grabbing one of them before making his departure from the kingdom.

After many uncomfortable minutes riding on horseback, he finally made it to Alogas, which was right next to Eastview. He was almost there. He looked worriedly as the sun started to set. He couldn’t be late. He couldn’t.

He finally made it to the border of Eastview, and his eyes lit up as he saw a tall, black-haired man in the distance. His smile only grew as Logan came more into view, in a wrinkled light-blue shirt and dirt smudged on his cheeks. He skidded to a stop and jumped off the horse, running into Logan’s open arms. They stayed there for what felt like an eternity, just enjoying the other’s embrace, Logan placing countless kisses to Roman’s head and Roman burying his face in Logan’s shoulder.

“I missed you, my rose” He mumbled. It had only been a week, but Logan was always at his side so it felt like it had been months.

“I missed you too, my love. Palace life has been near awful without you; have you seen who they hired to fill in?” Roman rolled his eyes and Logan chuckled. He placed a hand on Logan’s chest but when he did, his brow furrowed. He tugged at Logan’s shirt, tracing his hand across the scabbed-over gash. Logan took his hand in Roman’s, pulling it off the cut.

“It’s fine. Just an unlucky accident.” Logan assured him. Roman didn’t seem satisfied.

“Did someone hurt you?” Roman asked, anger seeping into his voice.

“No, my love, it was my own fault. I hurt myself while farming.” Roman looked up at him.

“Farming?” Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, my punishment for getting fired by the king’s court.” He ran a hand through his hair. When he looked back down, he saw the alarm in Roman’s eyes.

“Wha-how were you-” Logan wrapped an arm around Roman’s waist.

“Someone at the ball saw us, and ratted me out to the king. Next thing you know, I’m fired and a direct message from the king to stay away from you. My parents nearly ripped a new one when they found out. So, 8 hours a day out in the field.” Logan sighed, caging his disdain at the incident. He looked down and met Roman’s eyes, recognizing his concern. He rubbed circles in Roman’s shoulders, looking Roman in the eyes.

“Oh no, my rose, it’s ok. We’ll get this sorted out, I assure you.” Logan tried to reassure him. Roman nodded slowly, looking at the ground. In truth, he looked miserable.

“Plus, now I don’t have to look over my shoulder to do this,” He leaned down and captured Roman’s lips in a kiss, Roman’s cheeks dotting a beautiful crimson. He trailed the kisses down his cheek, further, down the slope of his neck, soaking in Roman’s murmurs of praise and small laughs, fingers entangled in Logan’s raven-black hair. He finally pulled away, leaving a few love bites but nothing prominent, taking Roman’s hand.

“I’ve known where you’ve grown up for most of my life, can I show you where I grew up?” There was a questioning look in Logan’s eyes and Roman nodded, brushing shoulders with Logan.

“I’d love to.” He smiled, pressing another kiss to Roman’s cheek.

“Let’s escape to this town for a little while” They walked together, watching the setting sun.

________________________

When they got to the more busy section of the town, Roman went to drop Logan’s hand but Logan held on more firmly.

“It’s fine, my rose. No one cares who you’re with as long as you can pay your bill” Logan’s eyes scanned over the crowd. Roman pressed closer to Logan’s side, Logan wrapping his other arm around Roman’s shoulder. They went from shop to shop, walking around the town.

“Would you like to grab dinner?” Logan asked when he saw Roman eyeing one of the bakeries. He nodded a bit too frantically, a chuckle escaping Logan.

“That would be… adequate,” Roman said, looking at Logan sheepishly. “I didn’t have dinner before I went to see you”

“Dear gods,” Logan murmured under his breath. Logan walked over to one of the shops, Roman staying close behind. After a few moments, he handed roman a boar-and-cheese sandwich. He covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing as Roman practically devoured it, licking his lips.

“What about manners? I thought you were a prince” Logan teased and Roman huffed, sticking his tongue out. Logan rolled his eyes playfully. He held Roman’s hand once again as Roman pulled him along, towards the local animal pen to see the deer and sheep, probably.

The end of the night came all-too quickly as Logan carefully eyed the sky. If he was correct, it was probably around 11 or so.

“Roman, as much as I hate to say it, you should be heading home.” Logan said, drawing closer to where they first met.

“No, it’s too soon. I don’t know if I can go without seeing you.” Roman turned to Logan, a pleading look in his eyes. Logan bit his lip.

“We can tryst again, same time next week. How does that sound?’ Logan held both of Roman’s hands, gazing into those dark, chocolate eyes. Roman nodded, if a bit hesitant.

“Promise?”

“Promise”

________________________

“What is bothering you? I know that look,” Logan said, looking deep into Roman’s eyes, as if he looked hard enough, what was bothering him would be written, clear as day. Roman folded his hands in his lap, mouth twisting into a grimace.

It had been another excruciating week without Logan when Roman slipped out to meet his lover again. Lover, he thought. It has a nice ring to it. Roman got off of his horse to fall into those strong arms of Logan’s , all doubt leaving his body. They were so secure, so comforting.

“Logan, take me somewhere we can be alone?” Roman asked, looking as the townsfolk hurried about. Logan nodded, walking away from the town towards the woods on the edge of the eastern side of town. Roman followed in Logan’s footsteps, never letting go of his hand as Logan led him to a small lake. Next to the lake was an old oak tree with a swing attached to it. Before Roman could think, Logan scooped Roman up in his arms and set Roman on the swing. Roman looked down, kicking off his shoes with euphoria bubbling inside him.

“Ready?” He asked, arms looping around Roman’s waist. Roman nodded. Logan smiled, slowly pulling the wing back before pushing him forward. Roman couldn’t bite back the giggle that escaped his throat, happiness flooding inside him. They fell into a gentle rhythm of pushing and pulling, Roman’s laughter echoing around the forest. Eventually, the swing stilled into a stop and Roman scooched over, Logan sitting beside him.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts logan #romantic logince #logince

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ushiwakaa · 4 years

Text

𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a mangaka who draws from your own experiences to write your stories. your new editor disapproves this method.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: akaashi keiji x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, hanahaki au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: suicidal thoughts/ideation, blood, vomit, major character death

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2 k

𝐚/𝐧: this was written for the cheese cult’s hanahaki fic event !! djnfjdngjnjfnjnjngjn this took me so , so , so long to write because every version i wrote ended up hitting the same brick wall of unimaginable angst and believe it or not, this is probably the happiest version. i was supposed to post this two whole as days ago but hey , at least it happened

From over the cover of the fairytale he reads, the young boy boy peers at you with soft sage eyes — checking to see if you’re still awake. You are, but you’re careful to keep your eyes closed, face buried into the blanket.

“The end,” the young boy finishes softly, closing his book.

He gingerly places the book to the side before sliding in next to you under the covers. You can feel his eyes on you for another moment before he takes a deep breath — there’s a secret, a confession, something on the tip of his tongue.

You never hear it.

You wake up with a start, a cough half-way up your throat. You cough and cough and cough until the first bud breaks air, tickling the back of your throat. You reach your fingers into your mouth and pull.

Bitterly, you stare at the withering bouquet in your hands.

The flowers are wet with your saliva — only a hint of blood coating the white of the petals.

When you went to the doctor about it, she said you were lucky. She said that your flowers were so small, you could go your entire life with an unrequited love and they would leave your respiratory system alone. She also added, no doctor in their right mind would perform a removal surgery on a person who was more likely to die on the table, then by their illness.

While cultivating roses would be painful, at least it would be a quick death.

Like every other day, you toss out the pathetic string of baby’s breath in the garbage bin as you head into the washroom to wash out your mouth.

You get off of the train at a quarter to ten — thankfully on time for your meeting.

Kaori gives a friendly smile when you enter her office. Even behind her desk, you can see her burgeoning belly. Despite pushing eight months into her pregnancy, she beams. In her smile, she wears the name brand brightness that they all share — the people with a requited love, that is. The lucky ones whose flowers weren’t fed with misery and tears.

You try your best not to resent her but your jealousy bleeds when you sit in the glossy, apple green chair.

“How are you?” Kaori asks, her gentle eyes watching you.

You give a vague shrug, a small smile. “Sad that this is it.”

She’s pleased by this answer, giving a laugh. It reminds you of blue bells rustling in the wind. “I’ll be back and ready to work on your next series before you know it.”

You give an empty chuckle.

There’s a knock at the door and you both look. A man stands in the doorway — staring at Kaori dryly. His plain neutrals are out of place in her bright office but her brightness doesn’t flicker as she waves him in. You play with the sleeve of your severely drab cotton blouse as you wonder if that’s how you look here.

“Akaashi! Glad you could make it.”

He gives a slight bow to Kaori first, then you. You stop fiddling with your sleeve and return the bow while seated. He takes a seat in the chair opposite to you (Kaori dubbed it the pineapple throne after its piss yellow hue). He’s too tall for it. It’s almost comical. You might write that in for one of your characters.

“(Y/N), this is Akaashi Keiji. Akaashi, this is (L/N) (Y/N).” She turns to you. “He will be taking over as your editor for the last volume while I’m on maternity leave.”

You look over at him — “Akaashi… Keiji?”

At an arm's length, you can see the gentle slope of his nose and the delicate curl of the eyelashes that frame the muted green of his eyes. There’s something that’s strangely familiar about him but you can’t put your finger on it. You know him. You don’t know how, but you do.

“I look forward to working with you.”

You smile, but at the back of your throat, you can feel a familiar itch beginning to grow.

Despite the connection your body draws to him, Akaashi doesn’t show any recognition in return.

He taps his pen lightly on the paper. “What’s going on here? What’s your plan for this girl?”

You peer over the desk to look at the character on trial — the panel shows the short haired girl spewing forget-me-nots into the trash bin. Immediately, you frown. It’s annoying that he doesn’t know her name. She is literally one of three main characters.

“Konoka?” You settle back into your seat. “She’s going to die.”

He looks up at you. “I gathered that much, but why?”

If the robot says it, it really must not make sense but then again, you doubt he even understood the nuances of the series if he couldn’t even remember Konoka’s name. “Because she has Hanahaki Disease.”

“Okay, but —” if you hadn’t been growing annoyed by his flat tone, you might’ve swooned at the softness, “forget-me-nots are small. She couldn’t possibly die of Hanahaki.”

“That’s why she kills herself.”

He’s silent for a moment, calculating his next words. “...You realize that she’s one of your most beloved characters, right? Your readers don’t want to see her die like that.”

“This is the trajectory the story has been on since she and Tanaka met again.” Your tone is more charged than you intend, but you can’t help but defend Konoka’s decision fiercely. “She has to commit suicide. It’s the only way she can move on.”

“Yes, but Kanoka—”

Pointedly, you cut him off, “Thank you for your opinion but I refuse to compromise on that.”

He purses his lips. “I sincerely ask you to reconsider.”

“I will not compromise my artistic integrity for your comfort.”

“Killing characters off isn’t profound. It isn’t always necessary.”

“In this case, it is.” Your cheeks burn red as you stand up for yourself — this fight is on a personal level. “I’m not killing her for shock value. I’m killing her because every night, Konoka dreams about Tanaka, and everyday, she wakes up and throws up flowers because she knows he doesn’t love her back. I’m killing her because there’s no one else for her. I’m killing her because the flowers won’t and that — that’s more painful.”

The silence in the aftermath of your rant is deafening. He says nothing to you for another moment, staring into the smoulder of your eyes with a calculating stare. It might be a mistake to appeal to the emotional aspect of it — after all, you sort of doubt he has any at this point — but, at the root of it, that’s what it is: an emotional problem.

“Fine,” he says. “You still have to redo this panel, though.”

Your mouth burns with a minty tang as you walk back into your room — drawn over by the buzzing sound of your ringer. Looking at the caller I.D., you have half a mind to throw it across the room and get back under the covers.

But, with all the professionalism you can muster at nine in the morning, you say, “Hello?”

“Are you finished with the second draft?” Akaashi’s flat drawl reverbs through the speaker.

You resist the urge to sigh. “Yes.”

“Can you come by the office to drop it off?”

“Today?” You scratch absently at your collarbone. “Uh… I can swing by tomorrow, but if you really need it today — you can pick it up from my apartment?”

There’s silence on the other line — likely weighing the pros and cons. In the weeks you’ve worked under him, you’ve noticed that he does nothing without proper evaluation.

“Is three o’clock alright?”

You’re in the middle of vacuuming when a knock at the door interrupts you. While you’re expecting it, you’re not any less annoyed. You open the door with a tight smile, manuscript already in hand. Akaashi gives a monotone greeting in his monotone clothes with his monotone face.

“Hello. May I use your washroom?”

You give a sigh as you open the door wider. “The door on the left.”

He enters your apartment, neatly putting his shoes by the door. You toss the manuscript back on the counter. You meant to send him on his way, but, because he’s already here, you put on a kettle to boil.

“I sincerely hope you reconsider your plans.”

You turn around at the comment, looking at your editor with a raised brow. “I’m still killing Konoka.”

He’s a different person when you look at him. For once, there’s something behind his eyes — a sharpness to his gaze. That feeling returns — the one that sees flowers tickling at your trachea.

Gravely, he repeats. “I sincerely hope you reconsider your plans.”

He must’ve seen your garbage bin. You feel ready to throw something else up now.

“Tell me about them,” Akaashi says.

“About who?”

“Whoever it is you’re willing to die for.”

“I…” You feel faint as you rub at your clavicle. “I don’t think you want to hear this.”

“That’s why I asked, isn’t it?”

So you do.

You swallow your pride as you tell him about the little boy you once knew. You tell him about the summer you didn’t leave each other’s side and how one day, while you were camping, you woke up next to him and he was coughing petals and buds and thorns. When his parents took him to the hospital, he never came back and you didn’t get to ask any questions before they moved away.

You tell him that you started dying that day. That the doctors told your parents that the surgery was too risky for your age. That when you came back a few years later, they told you that it was still too risky when the chances of your death were slim. Some days are better than most, you tell him, but because you never stop thinking about him, you’ll never get better.

It’s the same story that you are writing.

Akaashi looks at you for a solemn moment, watching you with incredible disbelief. He’s going to call you an over-dramatic idiot for wanting to die over a childhood crush. If it wasn’t your reality, you’d agree with him too. What a stupid reason to die.

But then, he coughs. When he moves his hands from his mouth, both your stomachs drop while you stare in horror at the soft petal, sopping wet with his blood.

His eyes widen the same time yours do. Immediately, the phone is in your hand, calling an ambulance.

He thinks he’s dying.

This feeling now, and the feeling from back then... They’re one in the same.

That night, you fell asleep facing him. Your button nose and dark lashes were illuminated by the glow created by his flashlight. It wasn’t until he peered over the cover of the book, he realized that you were knocked out cold.

“You’re so pretty,” he wanted to say.

Instead, a coughing fit seized him, which woke you in turn. He’d been complaining about a dry throat recently, so you disappeared to get him a water from the coolers outside of the tent.

When you came back, the sleeping bag was littered with bloodied petals. The chilled bottle hit the floor as you gave a blood-curdling scream.

This time, when Akaashi wakes up in the hospital, he’s already coughing. In rapid succession, four blood-soaked petals of varying sizes, the round bud they were plucked from, and two thorns spew from his mouth. He looks at you, startled, more emotion than you’ve ever seen him exhibit.

Your eyes are red rimmed and swollen.

Gently, you pick up the debris littering his lap and toss it into the garbage beside you. The thorns fall through the maze of baby’s breath you had also coughed up and hit the bottom of the bin with a dull thud.

"Keiji?” you sniffle, your voice soft. “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” he answers. Akaashi chuckles but you can see the blood dribble from his mouth. You wipe at his chapped lips with a tissue.

“The doctor said to call him when you woke up. Let me just —” You feel dizzy as you stand, maybe a touch overwhelmed. “I’m going to go get him.”

There’s a minuscule tug at your hand. When you look down at Akaashi, he’s watching you. His eyes are still a faint shade of green, but there’s a new shine behind them.

“Can I tell you something first?” You hesitate for a second. Then, you nod. “I hope you reconsider your decision.” In the chaos of the past few hours, you had forgotten the matter that brought you here. “I want Konoka to choose herself over Tanaka. Even if she coughs up flowers everyday... I want her to live.”

You take Akaashi’s hand — large, smooth, and cold — in yours. “I can do that.”

“I know that it hurts, but she needs to know that means she’s alive.” You squeeze lightly as his words resonate within you. “I haven’t felt pain in a decade. But, that means I haven’t felt anything. Right now?” He gives you a small smile. “I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.”

Gently letting go of him, you say, “I’ll get you the doctor.”

You wince when he coughs again — loud and wet. A confession in this final hour won’t do anything. The withered flowers have to come out somehow.

Still, “I love you,” you try.

He smiles weakly back at you. “I love you too.”

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @kawanisshi @milk-n-writings @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq @badlywritten-hq @mochibeaa @oinkanna @chxrry-wxne @spudicide @airybby @asranomical @karmasuna

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x you #haikyuu fanfiction #cheesecultficevent #hanahacheese #akaashi keiji #tw suicidal thought #tw suicidal ideation #tw major character death #tw blood #tw vomit #writing

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changingthelights · 3 years

Text

Green Grass and High Tides

Only a few days out to sea was all it took for Cam to start getting antsy in his secret hideaway. A rarely used storage room in the ship provided excellent cover, and a few shifted barrels meant Cam had a hidden place to sleep and squirrel away whatever food he could swipe from the kitchen. Yes, a few of the crew were suddenly missing pillows and a blanket, but Cam kept his thievery to a minimum so he didn't draw attention to himself. It was easy enough to avoid the crew when all he had to do was slip through an opening he'd created in the floor or the wall, and the rest was keeping to the shadows. He'd listened to more than a few of his father's 'private meetings' while hiding in the rafters of his office, so doing the same in this ship was easy.

Unfortunately, hiding for this long was Cam's problem. He was an extrovert- he loved people, he loved talking, and he especially loved sunlight, all of which were unavailable while hiding in the darkest parts of a vessel this size. The closest he came to fresh air was the kitchen, further up the ship, and even that was at night when there was no sunlight to be found. On top of that, he had no idea how long this ship planned to be at sea. The uncertainty made the silence all the more maddening, but then he considered the alternative. The silence, as much as the consistent creaking and groaning of a ship could be silent, wasn't so bad when the other choice meant he was in chains in some rich bastard's basement. Some solitude might be exactly what he needed to formulate a plan, or so he told himself, and he pulled the blanket tighter around him.

-----

Adrik didn't often wander this deep into the ship, but the particular barrel the cook asked for weighed quite a bit, and having supernatural strength meant he was one of the go-tos for such a job. He didn't mind, it gave him a break from the usual chores of the ship, and he liked the silence that came with the storage rooms. Any outside noise, the activity of the crew members or sounds of the sea, were all blocked out when you came this far down, and it was a good place to relax when Adrik needed it.

The werebear quickly found the room he needed, and it took only a minute of searching to find the barrel. As he placed his hands on the unit in question, he froze as a bright green flick of something long and prehensile flashed around the edge of a nearby container. At first he thought it might have been a trick of the magically flickering lights, until it swayed lazily back into view a moment later. It was definitely a tail, the shape of which he couldn't place. Adrik watched a series of mirrored appendages – they almost looked like long, dark green scales – flex along the tip.

Curiously, Adrik peered over the first line of barrels, and he was startled to find a man fast asleep among the supplies. How this man had evaded the crew up until now, Adrik had no clue, but even more curious was the rest of the stowaway's appearance. On top of a bright green tail, long, black horns arched back from the corners of his forehead, and twisted away from his head towards the ends. His hair was about shoulder length and tucked loosely back into a pony tail, and upon closer inspection Adrik realized it was two different tones of green, split down the center. The ends of his fingers looked as if they were stained black, and his nails curled into dark claws.

The longer Adrik stared, the more oddities Adrik noticed. The tattered clothes of a noble were the last thing he would expect. Yet, the vest the man wore, though damaged and smudged with dirt, bore intricate designs stitched in gold thread. His blouse, if it didn't have a tear in the arm stained with blood, would have been of high quality, along this his mud-covered trousers and knee-high riding boots. This man had been in some sort of tussle, and Adrik could make a few, though speculative, guesses as to what might make a creature like him desperate enough to stow away on a ship.

What an odd one. Adrik thought to himself as he watched the man sleep, and he wondered just how long the wound on his arm had been left to fester. It'd probably need some cleaning....

It was about this time another of the crew came looking for Adrik, having been sent by the cook when Adrik didn't return in a timely manner. He wasn't known to dawdle, so he knew someone would be sent after him if he waited long enough. As soon as the door opened behind him, Adrik turned, and he placed a hand over the crew mate's mouth to silence her.

“Shhh,” Adrik whispered as he held a finger to his lips, and the young woman's eyes widened in surprise. “We have a stowaway,” Adrik gestured vaguely behind him. “Tell the captain that I will be up with him shortly.” The woman seemed confused but she nodded, and Adrik turned back to the man in question as she left the room.

Another moment of contemplation, and Adrik grabbed a length of rope off a hook on the wall. Then he reached behind the barrels, grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him up an onto the top of a nearby crate.

Cam woke with a start as the world tilted, and he felt himself being moved by a force he had no chance of stopping. He grunted as his chest hit wood, and he fruitlessly struggled to free his hands from the vice grip pinning them to his back.

“H-hey!” he cried out as rope replaced the grip on his wrists. By the time the world stopped spinning and he finally had his bearings, the rope had made it's way around his forearms, trapping them against his sides. “S-stop– no! I– I can explain-!” he squirmed, but he stopped as the rope suddenly tightened, almost painfully, around his wrists.

“We do not take kindly to stowaways,” Adrik rumbled, putting on an act as best his stoicism would allow. Compared to most pirate ships, this was arguably the one most likely to be lenient with stowaways, depending on the circumstance, but intimidation was all a part of the information gathering process. Thankfully, this man couldn't see the amused smirk on Adrik's lips from where he was bent over the crate, and Adrik intended to keep it that way. With an easy pull he grabbed the rope at the center of Cam's back and lifted, and Cam yelped in surprise as he suddenly found himself hoisted into the air. While Cam was rather slippery, his kicking legs and flailing tail forced Adrik to make a concerted effort to keep Cam suspended at his side, Adrik's grip remained firm. He walked Cam up to the top of the ship, maintaining silence despite Cam's occasional plea, and he stopped just in front of the door to the captain's cabin.

If this had been any other situation, Cam would have basked in his reunion with fresh air and sunlight. Unfortunately, it was overshadowed by an intense dread that increased with each ascending step.

It was over. He'd been caught. Pirates like money, right? It'd be easy enough for them just to sell him off to Hannigan – and that disgusting bastard was likely to pay a pretty penny if they turned him in. Or, they might just sell him off to whoever wanted him. Even if the buyer didn't know what Cam was, he looked odd enough that by appearance alone he'd be interesting to a collector. He could try to escape once they were close enough to land – but if Hannigan or another trader got to him before that....

By the time they came to a stop, Cam's entire visage had visibly drooped, and it was then Adrik took note of the young man's ears. They were shaped almost like that of a donkey, only these protruded from the sides of his head instead of the top. A small small layer of black fur coated the outside, and based on their downward angle it looked as if Cam had lost some of the fight he had when Adrik first woke him up. He no longer wiggled against Adrik's grip, and his tail hung limply between his legs.

Then Adrik knocked, and, as if summoned by the sound, a sudden spark returned to Cam. He stiffened in his bonds and steeled himself for whatever would happen next. Even if he was caught, and becoming a pretty piece in some sicko's collection was his inescapable fate, he could go down fighting. Cam wouldn't make selling him easy, that much he promised himself.

Cam writhed against his bonds one last time as he was hauled into the room, and he only caught a glimpse of a garishly decorated red and gold rug before he was dropped unceremoniously into a plush red couch.

For a moment Cam looked past the man in front him, presumably the captain, because he was distracted by the...almost gaudily opulent decorations of gold and red that covered the entire room. If it didn't all work... somehow– Cam would call it ridiculously out of place. It took another moment for Cam to peel his vibrant green eyes away from intricate gold furnishings, and through a few loose strands of green hair he finally focused a sharp glare on the captain.

His glare faltered.

Shit. He was hot. Really hot, and Cam made no attempt to hide the way his eyes traveled down the line of the v-in the captain's dark shirt, down to his navel. It wasn't his fault, who wore shirts where the neck dipped so low?! Cam's own shirt was partially opened, stopped only by the edges of his vest, but he'd never worn something that obscene. Unless it was in bed. It didn't help that the man was also covered in tattoos, and that made Cam want to use seeing the hidden parts as an excuse to get the captain undressed.

Before Cam could stop himself, he gave the captain a full once-over. His ears perked up, his tail flicked playfully behind him, and his next words followed like a reflex.

“At least buy me dinner first,” he smirked to mask the fear clawing at his chest, “I don't usually start out with hardcore bondage on a first date.”

#pirate!AU #cam #ty #typhon #faceofamonster #green grass and high tides #adrik

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underoossss · 4 years

Text

Dancing Under the Rain - H.O

PROLOGUE

pairing: detective!Harrison x female reader

warnings: might be angsty at times, mentions of death, murder investigations

AN: this story wouldn't let me sleep until I started writing down all my ideas (although in no specific order at first). There will be a time skips sometimes, but I’ll label them so its not confusing. I hope you guys like it, I’m always very self conscious about everything I write (even schoolwork) so I feel like im sharing a bit of myself with you here. Let me know if you enjoyed it. Thank you to Marcia who made this moldboard for me a while ago!💖

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Over the years you have learned the pros and cons of living in a small town.

The pros:

You can escape from your previous life, from anything that hurt you and start over. No one knows who you are or the past that seems to sometimes follow you like a shadow sometimes. It’s a fresh start and 4 years ago, that was exactly what you needed.

That’s how you ended up in Dewitt, three hours away from Cambridge where everywhere you went people look at you with pity in their eyes. It’s as if losing your brother hadn’t been enough, no, people had to remind you with every look and every how are you? What were you even supposed to say? Devastated would only make people worried and okay made them believe you’re lying to them. Either way you felt like shit, there wasn’t a place you could go that didn’t remind you of him so you did what anyone else would do. Pack up your things and move to a remote town close to the sea where no one knew you.

The cons:

People talk. A lot.

Not that people aren’t nice, they are, well most of them. However, that doesn’t make them any less nosy or gets rid the river of gossip that inevitably flows when something different from the routine happens. You expected it going in, if word got around in Cambridge then it would certainly get around in Dewitt. Therefore you kept quiet about any personal details or stories, to them you were the psychology professor that owns the bookshop/café in Harold street. You drive up to Cambridge twice a week to lecture your students and Skype any of them who need office hours. During the summers you give online classes and put pastel blue tables outside your store for people to read or talk. To everyone there you were the nice young lady who makes some really nice coffee, who is always smiling and who tutors whoever needs help in science or English lit. Gossip is a plague though, one that no one can escape so that’s how find out a detective has moved into town. Richard Mensen has gone missing and it’s been a week since his family, or anyone else saw him. The local authorities haven’t gotten anywhere so they sent someone else to help.

You walk to the entrance of the bookstore and glance at the police station as a man steps out of a car and walks inside. Harrison Osterfield, the detective from London who you can tell already walks with a massive weight on his shoulders.

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Everyone is looking, there are cameras and reporters and Harrison just wants to go home. Eight and a half months after arriving to Dewitt, the case was finally solved. Richard Mensen was dead, that they discovered three weeks after arriving. The next eight months that followed were about finding out who did it, why they’d done it and convicting them for ruining a family’s life. They were also full of judgement, Harrison should be used to it by now, but he’s not. His palms sweat and his heart beats too fast under the attention of everyone in the town, every look of disappointment they had sent his way for taking so long.

You do it, Harrison wanted to say, go and solve it if it’s that easy. He puts on a neutral face, his mask, and tries not to give away how terrified he is of fucking up someone else’s life because of his shortcomings. He hasn’t so far, but he lived in fear of it happening. It’s brought him sleepless nights trying to figure cases out, cost him relationships and his confidence. He is sure of one thing though, they got the right guy convicted and now he can go to his little house in the outskirts of town and sleep for ten days.

“The case has been closed, the killer was sentenced to life in prison around thirty minutes ago. We kindly request the press to let the affected family rest and finally deal with their grief at this time. The people of Dewitt can be in peace now, we consider this case to be an anomaly in the otherwise safe community they live in. That’s all I have to say.”

Harrison steps aside and leaves the reporters standing outside of the station as he takes off his tie and shoves it in the pocket of his navy blue suit. The cool spring breeze pushes his hair back as he walks along the sidewalk by the many stores in Harold street. He takes a deep breath, feeling the tension leave his shoulders and smelling freshly ground coffee. Your bookshop is right ahead, the red flowers by the window blooming beautifully under the spring sun and contrasting with the pale yellow of the storefront. Harrison checks his watch, 2:30pm, it’s a bit too late for a coffee but he didn’t drink his usual one this morning and he’d be dammed if he doesn’t take this excuse to see you.

You’re sitting on a table by a bookshelf when he steps into the shop, there’s some papers in front of you, a cup of tea far away from them and what looks like a blueberry muffin by your right hand. You’re focused on what’s in front of you while you take a piece of the muffin with a fork and bring it to your mouth. Setting down the fork, you chew on the pastry as you grab a pen and scribble something on one of the papers. It’s only when someone clears their throat behind him that he realizes he’s been leaning on the doorway and staring at you for more than a couple of minutes.

His ears feel like they’re burning when he steps into the shop to let the other person in. He mumbles a quick sorry and walks towards the register where the drink menu was displayed.

“Detective Osterfield.” You smile, standing up when you notice him come into the bookshop. “How was court?”

“Please, Y/N, call me Harrison.” He feels himself smile as he shakes his head. “Court went well, he got a sentence and the case is close.”

“That’s good. I bet you’re looking forward to rest for a while.” You walk around the register and move to the expresso machine. “Your usual?”

“No, umm, if I drink coffee right now I won’t sleep and I really need a nap.” He scratches the back of his neck. Why is he always so nervous, he’s seen crime scenes and blood but he can’t talk to you without feeling like a teenager. “But maybe one of those chocolate cookies you’ve got there.”

“Oh! I’m sorry if I’m keeping you then, let me get that cookie for you.” You push your hair behind your ear as you grab a small paper bag and use a napkin to pick a cookie from the jar. “Here you go.”

Harrison can’t help but return the smile you give him and moves to take his wallet from his jacket. “No, you’re fine don’t worry. How much to I owe you?”

“Oh, forget about that.” You chuckle, smoothing the white blouse you are wearing. “Take it as a thank you for making our town safer.”

Harrison’s ears burn once more, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You shrug, suddenly looking shy. “Are you, umm, staying in Dewitt? With the case being closed and all?”

Harrison hadn’t even thought about leaving, this town had become part of his routine and he dared say he’s grown fond of it. Not to mention he’d grown fond you. “Yeah, I’m staying.”

“Good, great that’s nice.” You smile. “Would you like to take a walk down to the beach someday? It’s okay if you say no, don’t feel like you have to say yes because of the cookie, it’s not a bribe or anything I just-“

“Y/N.” Harrison stops your rambling stepping towards you. His heart is beating a mile a minute, you just asked him out. The broody shitty detective that takes eight months to figure out a case. He’s the luckiest shitty detective there is. “I’d love that.” He says, taking your hand.

“Really?” You smile, his eyes meet yours and he’s surprised to see his own. Eyes that smile but not all the way, eyes that are hiding something painful that’s locked away in your heart.

“Yeah.” He smiles back, squeezing your hand with his before stepping back. “We can go whenever you want, just let me know.”

Let me get to know you, he thinks. And when you nod your head and smile at him again he is almost certain that you will. It could take time, but he’s willing to wait until the moment you decide you will.

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Let me know your thoughts! ✨

chapter 1 - chapter 2

#dancing under the rain fic #pauwrites #Harrison osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #detective au #harrison osterfield fic

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crazy-bi-btch · 5 years

Text

You Hurt Me ( Sweet Pea X Reader)

Summary: Y/N feels like the connection she and her boyfriend had has somehow disappeared just like he is from her life. She has to decide if she’s better off invisible or finally disappear

Warnings: Angst?!? Some smut of course!!! Soft pea

Word count: 3.6k

A/n: thank you so much for being patient guys!? This took me a while bc I’ve been really busy! Also ima try to finish all my request before Monday since I start school soon! But I hope you like this one!? Request per @saltyturtlejudgepurse (some grammar and punctuation errors)

You were mad. Confused. Frustrated. This was the 2nd time pea had canceled on your plans. The first time was a decent excuse.

You waited patiently at pops in your usual booth. Pea had told you to meet up at 6 pm their so you guys could eat before he went back to work the serpents. He did seem pretty busy with them recently.You had planned a little something special for him, you had bought that cute lingerie set from VS and well you had realized how long it was since Pea and you were intimate. So you decided it was a great idea to wear it under your short tan skirt and white blouse.

So you sat there, at 6 pm, and waited 20 minutes then 30 minutes. You texted him furiously.

Y/N: Where r u???

Pea: Babe I’m sorry! Reschedule, got caught up longer than we anticipated

You left him on reading, tears ready to run down your flustered cheeks. You got up and walked out into the chilly night and drove home.

The second time he tried to reschedule was meant to be at his trailer. You were jumping up in joy when he told you it would be at his home. You had dressed in a maroon lace and pulled on a casual black wrap-around dress. You look yourself in the mirror, “I look hot as fuck!” I laughed to myself as I grabbed my keys and made my way to pea’s trailer. On the way there you felt distracted the heat between your legs growing as the thoughts of Pea’s hands on your body, his lips that you craved. Thank god you were 2 minutes away. As you make your way up the stairs you knocked twice with no answer. You huffed agitated and called Pea.

He’s probably asleep

Ring ring ring

“Hello?”

“ babe! Hey, what’s up?” You could hear his questioning voice. It made your blood boil.

“ What’s up? I’m outside your door? Where are you!” I yelled furious that he forgot.

“ holy- it was today? Oh, shit baby, I’m so sorry the boys invited me along to some drinks since we had a rough couple of -“ you were extremely angry, stomping your way to your car as you acted as you listened to his nervous ramble.

“ Sweet Pea GO FUCK YOURSELF?!” You screamed into the phone and hung up. You threw your phone at the passenger seat, sobs choking you up. You had been craving sweet pea’s affection and just support. You wanted your boyfriend back. Your phone was blowing up as you drove back home, of course of Pea. You decided to turn your phone off, you need to be alone for a bit and process everything, to make clear decisions.

You tried remembering the last time you kissed him. The thought of his lips on yours almost felt faint and like a ghost. The last time he hugged you close and you nuzzled into his chest. Your heart ached as you realized, “ how did it get this bad?”

the slight touch of his hands on your arm as he passed by you in the hallways at school

The soothing sound of his voice as he told you he would “ see you later”

The forehead kisses as he left you.

That night Y/N cried herself to sleep as she realized that maybe her happy ever after with Sweet Pea would end. His lifestyle has changed to the point it has affected their relationship and Pea didn’t even realize it. He was so preoccupied with serpent business that he put his only support system aside. As the sun rises Y/N woke up to the miserable feeling of having to see Sweet Pea at school. Her eyes red, swollen, and tired. No matter how much concealer she layered you could see the sadness wearing her out. You walked into school hoodie up, headphones in, you just wanted to get to 1st period without having question being thrown at me. You didn’t want to speak to Pea or even look at him. You had made your decision. If he wasn’t going to be there for you anymore, what was the point then? You were preparing yourself to end it. Suddenly you were yanked to the side, knocking your headphones out.

You met Toni’s confused expression, “ hey? What happened you’ve been MIA all day!”

“ my phone died.” I lied

“ Your phone.. Died? What is this the 19th century, you always carry your portable charger.” She stated matter-a-factly. You wanted to spill your emotions and feelings to her. Toni realized something was wrong once her friend sighed and looked at the ground.

“ What aren’t you telling me?” she implied, I couldn’t look at her or I would sob all over her and I didn’t need that attention right now. “ Please.” She whispered her hand on my arm.

“ I’m sorry.” I mumbled and walked past her leaving her concerned.

Just as I made my way up the stairs to my class I saw him. He stood tall and proud, right next to the entrance of my classroom door. His face seemed tight almost pissed. His arms crossed, the red flannel tight around his arms. His eyes wandered through the sea of students of Riverdale high.

“ Hey Y/N.” Reggie spooked me, I clutched onto my chest and Reggie stood their chuckling.

“ shit reg.” I cursed putting my attention on him, Reggie and I sit next to each other in the the 1st period. Recently since Sweat Pea and Jug had serpent business that meant I didn’t have someone to walk me to class, and since me and reg got along he decided to look after me.

“ Why are you waiting here? Let's get to class.” He ushered me but my eyes searched for Sweet pea who is still there waiting. Reggie followed my gaze and saw him.

“ Um.. did something happen?” He mumbled and walked back closer to me, my eyes filled up in tears as I remembered what happened.

Reggie pulled me into a hug, “ Hey don’t cry…” He cooed, I nodded softly but settled into his chest. Just like I use to with sweet pea. The bell rang as it signaled class has started. Students ran to and fro trying to avoid a tardy. The bell made me pry away from him. I was ready to do the hardest decision of my life. Reggie turned around to see me pass the classroom and past Pea who was obviously not looking to well since I tried to pass as quickly as possible.

But I was too slow.

“ Hey Y/n!” I heard him yelling , making me flinch and walk faster. As I tried getting away from him my eyes squinted as my thoughts ran quick just as my feet. Shoving who whoever was in my way. Then for the first time in a while, I felt a strong grip on my arm right above my elbow pulling me back, I recognized his hand immediately, his rings digging into my hoodie.

“ Why are you avoiding me?” He groaned angrily trying to look into my eyes but I refused looking at him.

“ Let me go.” I spat pry my arm away with no relief. It only made him even more mad. With his strength he pulled me up close, forcing me to look at him, both of his hands around my upper arms. I squealed as his sudden movement startled me.

“ Look at me.” He mumbled annoyed, I easily fell for his command, their i was looking into his dark eyes, the force and touch was enough for my body which had craved him for a while.

“ What the fuck is wrong-”

“ What the fuck is wrong? You want to know? Now? Go. to. Hell.” I snarled in his face, and began attempting to squirm away from him. My blood boiled, face flushed. While sweet pea felt hurt and insulted, and furious.

He shook me in anger, “ Y/N if you don’t tell me know-”

“ LET ME GO. YOU DON’T WANT ME I DON’T EITHER, ITS OVER!” I screamed in his face slapping his chest, those words gave him enough to let you go, he stood frozen with a frown on his face. I huffed rubbing my arms, and glanced at him. It was enough to make my anger disappear.

“ What?” He croaked, I fidgeted with my fingers and convinced myself to repeat myself to keep my ground. I deserved better right? But I missed him, I wanted him to hold me again. To kiss me. I couldn’t deal with this.

“ Pea I-” I started but when I saw his sad eyes and just seeing him, it made me feel like I had it all, my world was pea. Soft sobs came from me as I watched him process. “ I missed you- I NEEDED YOU, I WANTED MY BOYFRIEND!” I accused voice cracking fingers deep into his chest in frustration. His expression said everything, guilt.

“ So you can’t ask me don’t you dare ask me what is wrong with me, because-” I wiped my eyes, my vision became blurry by the minute. “ I never see you, I never can touch you anymore, how can I love someone who isn’t their?” This was the first time I saw Pea cry. It was breathtaking to say the least. His hands going through his hair trying to hide his face from me.

“ I’m sorry… shit I knew it… I fucking knew it, I was going to fuck this up!” He cried punching the lockers next to me in fury, making me flinch and sob, I wanted to hold him tell him to forget everything. I wanted to forgive him. But it hurt to much to forget.

Pea dropped to his knees and hugged my legs, crying he begged, “ Please… I’m sorry I fucked up…. I love you don’t leave me, your the best thing that happened to me.” I held in my tears and touched his head on last time.

“ I’m sorry.” I whispered as I unwrapped his arms from me, and walked away from a crying Pea.

It had been officially a week since I broke up with Pea, and it felt like forever. Toni had stopped by everyday to make sure I was okay. Also to convince me to rethink my decision on ending it with Pea. She had advised me that breaking up with Cheryl only made her realized how much she actually needed and loved her, and she said the makeup sex was amazing. Which made me laugh of course.

Pea wasn’t doing so well, he had completely shut down on everyone. Blamed jughead and the serpents for his misery, but of course FP sat with him told him the real reasons why. It somewhat helped but still it was hard to sleep and eat. He drank a lot and mostly alone in his room zoning out. Fangs apparently is tired of hearing his friend cry at night when he thinks he’s asleep.

Deep down I was doing horrible too but you kept yourself busy. I caught up on reading and studying, shopping by myself. I decided to return the lingerie that I bought but it was still painful to even open the nice bag it came in.

“ Please take him back.” Toni pleaded as she was ready to leave. I looked up at her, actually pondering. She hugged me before opening the door, “ Just think about it.” with that she was gone. I slumped into my couch, watching as the sun set through the screen door. I decided to put on a movie to keep my mind focused on the movie and nothing else. It seemed like the universe was sending sign in the weirdest way, having to pick a movie right after a break up - worst decision. I went with the notebook. Halfway through the movie I heard knocking at the door. I paused it to get to the peephole.

“ Y/N!” Sweet pea pounded on the door. I gasped as I felt the door shake. Was he drunk? Was he here to yell at me? So many thoughts ran as I stared at the only thing keeping us apart.

“ Open up please!” He begged with a tremble in his voice, it sent a pain in my heart. Maybe Toni was right. I needed Pea, just as much as I needed him. “ baby.” He whimpered against the door. I set my forehead on the door eyes closed, deep down I prayed he would leave so I didn’t feel this guilt. He sounded vulnerable and broken, and I couldn’t take it.

“ I miss you… I still love you.” He sobbed as he kept knocking on my door. The stains on my cheeks said it all, I love him and god he seems so distraught from my actions. Suddenly the knocking was over and the presence on the other side seemed nonexistent. My breath was stuck in my throat as I realized, he left.

My hands instantly whipped open my door and their he was sitting on the ground where it seemed he was leaning against my door. My hands flew to my mouth in order to control myself. My heart beat increasing by the second.

Pea was on his feet instantly staring at his tired and emotional ex-girlfriend. All of a sudden he couldn’t speak. His thoughts running to fast for him to comprehend or say. His breathing heavy and panting.

I saw the dark under eyes ,and sickly pale skin in his use to be tan skin, his knuckles scarred in scabs from punching in a rage. Hair sticking to his forehead and his puffy eyes looking for any sign of forgiveness.

“ I-” He started to say eyes slightly squinted, my hand dropped down and looked pea dead in the eyes, filled with love and want.

“ I made a mistake.” I whimpered softly, his eyes went wide. “ I love you and it’s killing me Pea. Please don’t ever leave me.” I confessed as I yanked pea’s frozen body towards the entrance of the house. Our bodies inches away. Breath hitting each other’s face as we stared at each other. Admiring our flaws which seemed like a piece of art they could watch all day everyday.

“ Forgive me.” He breathed hands inching its way up my arms slowly leaving a trail of goosebumps, and up to cup my cheek. My eyes closed and leaned into his touch, I needed this for so long, his touch and love. “ Love me like you used to love me.” I sighed.

Pea’s heart broke as he heard her say those words. He was so selfish for letting this get so out of hand. He loved her so much yet he ignored the fact that love was also shown in intimacy and affection.

“ I promise I will do better I will-” My mouth immediately on his, a whimper escaping me as I felt the similar taste of him, the taste I've been craving since the day he became distant. Our bodies constantly colliding, my hands deep into his hair taking in the feeling of dried up gel under my nails and finger pads. Pea’s hands wrapped around my torso like I would disappear any moment and he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t go anywhere. The thought popped into your head ‘ You should take control since I mean you did get your heart broken’. It was risky but I knew it was needed. My hands moved down to unwrap his hands from me, which Pea groaned about into the heated make-out session. Grabbing both his wrist in each hand and placing them against the wall behind him. It shook Pea to the core that he broke the kiss.

“ What-” He started eye wide, lips bright red from the assault.

“ My rules tonight.” I whispered before giggling and running upstairs to my room waiting to hear the patter of Sweet Pea’s steps.

our embrace once again colliding as his strong arms wrapped around me and unwrapped in anticipation to rip my clothes off. My eyes closed in bliss as I felt his aggression through his movements. His lips like honey on my neck, making me moan and groan, fingers prying instantly at his jacket and shirt. I pushed him off and straight towards the bed were he plopped down with a huff. I quickly crawled over him pinning his hands above him.

He groaned loudly in annoyance, ”baby!” with the unknown courage hidden in me I spoke in a seductive voice.

” you heard me, I'm in control, ” I tsked going to the drawer and pulling out the handcuffs he got me, he used them in me once but I think it's his turn to try them out. He whined as I clipped them around his wrists, and to the dashboard.

My eyes looking deep into his as I crawled down hands slipping my shirt off to show my bare chest, pulling the loose sweatpants off leaving me sitting right above his jean covered erection. The cuffs clanked as he groaned and hissed at the teasing.

“ I swear to god.” He huffs out somewhat out of breath already. I smirked softly enjoy his embarrassed and frustrated state. Wiggling my hips against earning a whine just to rile him up more. Deep down I needed this, badly. Suddenly the burning feeling in my thong was enough to have my lips and tongue on his and hands fondling with his belt to liberate him.

” please. I will do anything.” he grunted almost in pleasurable pain as my palm dragged up against his member.

” anything ” I mumbled against his lips, his face shook as if to say yes. I yanked down the remaining clothing and let my hand around him earning a sigh and growl.

” But you don't deserve it.” I whispered then something in him clicked into beast mode because his hands yanked and clanked his hips rutting upwards looking for any friction. I sat upward hands on his heaving chest watching in disbelief, who knew I would have the baddest boy of riverdale wrapped around my finger begging for me?

” beg.”

”never!” he spat in anger, my hand inched its way to my thong and straight to where I craved it.

” what are you doing…” he trailed off eyes wide.

” well since you’re tied up, not willing to follow the rules I got to take matters into my own hands.”

My eyes closing as my fingers rubbed the right place whimpers and cries pouring out leaving Pea in a horrible state.

” OKAY OKAY PLEASE PLEASE LET ME FUCK YOU, BABY, PLEASE.” he cried out once again his hips buckled. Our mouths once again together and letting my hand guiding him in me as I pushed aside my red thong. His hips instantly shoved up sending an electrical wave through me almost knocking me out.

” oh, my PEA!” I cried out fingers scratching his chest as his face scrunched in concentration as he thrusted upwards. I went ahead and clicked the latch that kept the cuffs locked sending Pea in a frenzy. He threw the cuffs somewhere and wrapped his arms around me his upper body meeting mine our lips clashing as I wrapping my legs around his back hitting the spot instantly deep in me. I gasped against him as my hips met his.

“ PEA fuck fuck, harder please.” I cried in pleaser, his hot breath against my neck.

“ now look who’s begging.” He chuckled darkly his hand wrapping around my hair yanking it back softly leaving more access to my neck. “ shit baby I can’t believe I left you so lonely, god I forgot how this felt.”

“ shut up and fuck me!” I groaned, he hastily switched our position, my back on the mattress and the pillows around me.

” I'm so close please ahh” I cried out fisting the sheets as Pea began his quick and bruising pace.

“ Pea touch me.” I guided his hand to bundle of nerves that pleaded to be touched by someone beside myself.

God Pea loved seeing you guide him to touch your most sensitive area, the way you’re face scrunched up in pleasure his name falling out of your lips in a prayer. His thumb quick to flick and rub you right.

Your back arching and a scream erupting followed by the pumping feeling of your walls around Pea signaled him you were so close.

“ Fuck baby, cmon.”

“ I’m- oh my mmmm” incoherencies left my lips as my legs twitched, hands fisting till my knuckles turned white, and eyes closed shut. A load loan left Sweet Pea as he buried his face in my neck.

I laid their trying to catch my breath. My eyes finally opening to see Pea still in me. It almost didn’t feel real. That he was here.

“ I missed you so much.” I whimpered as silent tears fell, instantly getting Pea’s attention, his tender hands around my face.

“ Aw baby don’t cry, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I love you.” His brown dopey eyes comforting me. I nodded in agreement and held him close.

“ you know we need to do that more often you are crazy hot when you’re in charge.” He mumbled against my hair.

I laughed in amusement,” You just do that to me.”

“ Yeah you fucking tease.” He sassed back.

#sweet pea smut #riverdale smut #sweet pea #riverdale #toni topaz #southside serpents

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yconic · 4 years

Text

Guess who was bored and decided to make a Stonytasha pirate AU sjsj

Alright so!! What I had in mind: Th name of infamous pirate captain Tony Stark , stretched across all land for being the skilled and more than ruthless bandit that Steve Rogers, son of a navy/military general, finds himself to be too infatuated with.

Like, proper and posh Steve, with just a whisk of innocence and fragility falling for charming and flirty sea bandit that is Tony , who stops mid battle with his dad's crew to kiss his cheek while evading getting hurt?? Cuteness, I have no self control sksksk

When Black Sabbath ambushes the town of Brooks, Joseph Rogers is crimson to the hairline at being caught so unprepared. Due to celebrating his son's birthday the day prior.

Half his force stood ditzy on their feet, still so drowned into the debauchery they failed to realize the pirate ship they were supposed to guard was floating carelessly at the docks has been there for two hours.

In their surprise, Tony and his crew aren't spreading chaos or destruction. They carry the calmness of a silent storm, not thunder but raindrops as they collect what they can carry. From bare necessities such as food to a random jewelry that caught their eye.

Steve knows retaliation wouldn't result in a victory. At least 10 men against one aren't odds that favour him. Not only is he outnumbered, but he is also undertrained. Despite being a soldier in name, his father had been adamant about actually introducing him to the practice. Steve is tore between being grateful or regretful about his incliation to arts now.

They're not hurting anyone. That's what confuses him.

He would love to paint the Captain, however. Even a quick sketch would have sufficed, even if it wouldn't do justice to the undeniable beauty in front of him. Tony was a rarity he couldn't pry his eyes off of. Hair dark and soft looking curling at the nape of his neck, Skin kissed by sun, complimenting the gold beam smile that's too enchanting for it's own good.

The pools of brown lock with him for a moment, but it was enough to make his legs buckle slightly. Those were the Deadeyes, he told himself, that put fright in monsters and men alike. Except the cruelty, coldness, and blankness from the tales he's heard was missing. Tony was alive, and he was laughing.

The smile grew bigger as he advanced in his direction, dropping the sack of goods he's been carrying not even a moment ago. Steve made the effort of keeping his eyes past the pirate's shoulder instead of the sight of his bare chest, provided by the low cut red blouse.

Steve felt his face burning, which only seemed to amuse the Captain further if the chuckle sending shivers down his spine was any clue worth following.

"You're Rogers blood, " Tony commented easily, tone full of glee. Even if he was taller between them, Steve never felt so small. His form turned to wood when calloused fingers rested on his jawline, touch gentle.

Almost too loving for what they probably done. Steve wanted to melt into it. "Pretty fella, aren't you, sweetling?"

Steve's dry throat was, at once, workable again. "And you, the pirate sacking my town, " he responded, voice silkier than he intended. The darkness of Tony's eyes intensified with just a shade, but it was enough to make him swallow a whine. "You'd have better luck in Quinz. From what I hear they've been recently restocked. Why us?"

A rich laugh boomed from Tony. "Darling, " he started, grin crooked and voice dripping in honey. "You don't KNOW what a sacking done by me looks like." Steve was positive he never wanted to find out.

Silence washed over them for a moment before the pirate spoke again.

"We're just taking what we need, not want. We're housing a few extra guests and we regrettably ran out of food, which is terribly embarrassing for me. I've been told I hold the title of the best host over all 50 seas. My people shouldn't expect less than the best, as I'm sure you understand."

"If you wish, we can also provide you with an appron, " Steve said, waiting for the thin ice to crack. Tony's lips quirked upwards and somehow the nobleborn knew he won't sink just yet. The blonde's hand extended in invitation. "I'm not certain what the manner pirates use to introduce themselves, but here we shake hands. I am Steve Rogers."

"It may shock you, but some of us swap spit. I suppose however, since we're on your land I'll comply to your rules, " a wink and a tongue leaking with sarcasm, accompanied with a firm handshake enough to make Steve's skin raise upwards. "You know who I am."

Steve nodded. "Deadeyes. Parents and eldery tell the children about you."

"Jesus, " Tony swore. "I'm not sure if I should be proud of by my everlasting popularity or offended that so many consider me an ancient ghost ship. Why parents think I'm an appropriate subject for discussion escapes me."

"They do it so the children won't grow up like you."

"Grow up? Oh no darling I'm afraid I only grew old, " Tony chuckled, eyes dancing on the blonde's body, making Steve feel warm. "But only in certain fields."

"You could have tried to buy something if you were in need. Like all people do."

"I would love to, but not only are my pockets in great mourning, I must say your system makes it very difficult for people like me to make ends meet."

"The criminals?"

"The poors."

Before either men could say more, a fire was shot in the open. Tony reacted in a blink move, pushing the blonde to the ground with a shocking force. He heard someone shout Tony's name, but the ringing in his sensitive ears dafted all sound trying to stab in.

"Stay down until the fire dims, then find shelter!" The pirate's order came in form of a yell, but to Steve's ears it was more of a soft instruction. He could spot familiar boots with the glittering royal emblem shining blindly through the dust blinding his vision

The force is chasing the crew, more drunk than awake, shooting at whatever they can aim. The blonde's heart slammed against his ribcage, adrenaline and fear for his people coursing through his blood at an alarming speed as the men flooded the market place.

Steve was quick on his feet, body becoming it's own host as he helped the two men, -- whom by the looks of it were apart of Tony's crew, -- lead the people to the town's church where they would be safest. The tail of his eye spied a flash of red darting above them on the roofs, but before he had the chance of getting a better look, he was knocked aside by the crowd.

The gates were locked shut.

Steve resigned behind the closest beer barrels, placing his hand on the pistol harness tucked safetly on his hip, ignoring the slight tremble of his digits. He leaned over to peek through the tangle of soldiers and bandits huddled up together like fight dogs in a ring, at the violent scenery Tony painted with a mindnumbing grace.

The footing was almost too hard to follow with the bare eyes. The pirate seemed to barely touch the ground, blade cutting through the air with a force that temporality privated Steve from air. He was accustomed to battle, twin swords in each hand seeming at home and comfortable.

He trapped the wrist of one soldier between the edges of his weapon, head moving just in time before the bullet shot could crave his skull. The military man received a kick in the gut, sending him straight to the floor.

Tony was swift on his toes, predicting the sloppy moves of his adversaries and dodging them with ease, smirk sharp and lethal as the men around him hit the ground like rain. By gun shot, he realized, put to the ground by a shower of lead. His eyes hunted every direction in hope of finding the gunslinger but with no such luck.

The soldiers groaned from their spot on the ground, each holding onto their bleeding legs. Most of the damage was done to either their hands or inferior limbs area. The coin dropped. Whoever it was, their objective was not to dig graves, but a weeksworth of bed rest, if that. The symphony of battle got quieter and quieter for Steve, who failed to register Tony making his way to him.

"Love, we have to stop meeting like this, for the sake of your heart. " He thought he heard. Steve couldn't make out the words properly, sentences becoming incoherent .

Everything became white noise and unclear, blurry dark silhouettes. The nerves in his body all numbed, lost of feeling until a rough hand curled around the nape of his neck. The firm but tender touch provided him some much-needed grounding.

His senses awakened again, his being coming back slowly. His mind was sober enough to hear the pleasant graveness of Tony's voice whispering sweetly against his ear as he raised him from the soil that tainted the fine cloth.

"It's over now, " he soothed as a child does a spooked animal, thumb rubbing circles into the sweat coated skin. Tony did not hesitate to brush his lips across. "Please, sweetling, return to me, will you? You were brave, doing exactly as I told you. I have you. You're safe now."

"I was a coward, " he retorted, mouth bitter and eyes burning. "I HID from battle, from the danger, while my people were attacked. What kind of soldier does that?"

"So what? Better a dead hero than a living man?" Tony asked sternly. "Your people are safe, are they not? You lead them to the church, Steve. You protected them, and--" the cock of a pistol made them both pause.

A tiny gasp slipped past Steve's lisp as the soldier who they both missed sneaked behind them, firearm aimed at Tony's back. The smaller man planted between him and the attacker, not letting him be exposed to danger.

"You don't want to do this. Trust me." Tony warned mildly. "I am trying to give you a way out, you'd be smart to take it." The soldier was stilled, and the gun wasn't lowered. His finger caressed the trigger.

"I see, " strangely, he could hear a hint of smile in Tony's voice. "So. Is this the end of me?"

Steve's eyes were clamped tight, fingers clenched around the thin material of Tony's dress shirt as the bang of fire lingered in the air. After a passing minute, he felt something fast and hot shredding the oxygen right beside his left ear.

When the black faded away, Steve was not expecting to see Tony still standing, and the soldier shot down clutching at his injured soldier. The shot hasn't came from him, but from behind him. Whipping around, Steve paused in mild shock. A small woman, not tall enough to reach his shoulder without raising on her tips, had her slandered arm extended and wileding a pistol.

Her looks was deceivingly innocent, features soft yet sculpted pleasantly resting in a mask of winter were captivating. Her hair was red and her most eye catching asset, warm auburn and planted in a bun, reminding Steve of autum leaves painted in rusty undertoned he loved to collect when the season was of middle.

Fierce green eyes melted as they landed on Tony, the stone in them cracked. A glimpse of adoration washed over them, clearly exposing the nature of their connection. Steve felt his heart clench.

For some reason, her voice decreased some of the burn his chest scorched with. "Not today, Captain."

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