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comfort-questing · 5 months

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"poisoned weapon"

post ep1 of Vox Machina s2

for @crowscroll, bless :)... an accidental epic

They had fled, and fled, and fled, ever since the sun rose that morning - and even though Whitestone's walls surrounded them now, Vax's heart had not yet stopped pounding, the taste of ash still bitter in the back of his throat as he breathed in.

Dragons. The dragons had come, not one but seven, the sky blackening beneath their wings, and the fires rising to meet them.

Here in the De Rolo mansion the terror seemed far away, distant; but closing his eyes or letting his thoughts stray for a moment was enough for it to return. He had joined the endless debates on tactics and plans, defense and reprisal, sitting at his sister's side - earlier, and then run away again, here to the quiet of the upstairs library with the books and high windows clean and bright now. But the murmur and stir of voices in the great hall below, the clatter outside of refugees finding their place and lamenting their losses, all of those were reminders as well.

Vax hugged his arms tightly around himself, forcing his eyes to count the carved figures along the ceiling high above, to trace their shadowy lines in hopes of dulling... other things.

The sound of the knob turning, clumsily fumbled, and the door creaking open made him startle at first, then sit up to welcome the intrusion. Percy was there, in the doorway, hand still on the knob as if it were supporting him upright. He'd found a new coat somewhere but not been quite able to put his arms through the sleeves; the tattered, blood-stiff and dirt-stained remains of his shirt were clearly visible beneath. A spiderweb crack in one glasses lens caught the light as he turned.

There was something about the clench of Percy's jaw that made Vax's neck prickle with nervousness, and the quick breaths that jarred his stiff-set shoulders, under the slung coat.

"I think," said Percy, in a low colorless sort of voice, "that I might need to lie down for a bit."

Vax was on his feet in a moment, the banked flame of the day's panic flaring back up in his chest. But Percy's intuition had come a little late, it seemed, because it was only two steps into the room before his knees buckled and he met the ground in a limp tousle of limbs and cloth.

The next handful of moments seemed very slow and very fast at the same time: finding the fast thready pulse in Percy's throat, tucking a pillow from the sofa under his head, pulling back the heavy fabric of the borrowed coat to check for any hidden injuries. The half-healed bruising from their dash through the city, the scald marks like sunburn from too-close dragon breath - Percy's skin was feverishly warm, small gasps escaping him at each touch, then a strangled cry when Vax's hand slipped along the back of his right shoulder.

Vax sat him up, carefully as he could, Percy's head lolling back as he lifted him. There - arcing along the back of his arm and shoulder, two marks like claw scores, the skin fresh and fragile from Pike's healing earlier in the day but with vicious streaks of swollen red beneath, veining outwards from the healed marks.

Percy winced at Vax's touch, eyelids flickering behind the heavy lenses of his glasses.

"Shh," murmured Vax, his own voice hoarse in his ears. "Lay down and don't move, will you? I'll get the others."

"I - did say - I needed - to lie down," said Percy, in a small breathless whisper, and bit his lip as Vax settled him down on the floor again. The sharp blush of fever was starting along his cheekbones, and the dirt driven into his hair made the pale locks almost dark against his pallid forehead. "I'm - sorry - for the trouble."

"Look, enough things have happened today that - " Vax started, and broke off, since Percy didn't seem to be listening, and anyway how he would end the sentence he didn't know. That all I want is for us all to be safe, maybe. Ironic, and cruel, when Emon had fallen to its knees before the dragons just that morning. But in the wreck of the world he wanted his own people around him, and was that wicked or wrong?

So he swallowed down the lump in his throat and gathered himself to his feet, sore muscles throbbing.

"I'll be right back," he said to Percy, and fled before the tears in his eyes could show.

"Dragon poison," said Pike, in one of the upstairs rooms, half an hour later; Percy tucked securely into bed with Cassandra sitting steely-eyed at the foot, Vex pacing restless in front of the curtained window. "Their teeth - their claws - I didn't see it happen, only the rocks sliding, and the black dragon above. I just healed him up so we could - we could keep running..."

"It's okay, Pickle. You did everything you could." Vax reached out to put a hand on the gnome's shoulder, and she leaned her exhaustion-lined face against it. "Can you heal him again, then?"

Pike chewed her lower lip, the silence stretching long, broken by Percy's quick rough breathing where he curled up beneath the covers.

"Poison - is complicated," she said. "It's his own body reacting to it, and - I don't know how to help. And I've got nothing left for today, I was busy outside, with the other refugees - " Her lips were trembling again, her hand white-knuckled around the symbol of the Everlight.

"Is there anything you can do, then?" said Vex, the first time she'd spoken since they'd brought Percy upstairs to the bedroom. Vax could sense the tension in her shoulders as she paused her pacing for a moment.

"I don't know. I think we should find an herbalist, and try to bring his fever down in the meantime."

Percy coughed, sharply, and Cassandra leaned forward, her face still and taut under the ragged fringe of her growing-out hair.

"That's good for a start," Vex said. She rubbed at her forehead, smearing the remainders of ash and dirt still there. "Keep him comfortable. It sounds like his throat and lungs are swelling too - we'll have to do something about that. It's not an unusual reaction to dragon poisons..."

The matter-of-fact tone of her voice might have fooled the others, but Vax knew better. He wanted to try to reach out and catch her hand, like he was holding Pike's, but she was back to her pacing, the fading pain-lines from her headache earlier still graved in her skin.

Percy mumbled something into the pillow, incoherent, and coughed again, blinking hazy-eyed at his sister sitting next to him and then at the others scattered round the room. His hand fumbled up to his face as if to push up his glasses, though the frames were now folded and placed on the table next to him.

"Shh," said Cassandra, almost too softly to be heard, and brushed her knuckles across the back of his hand. "Shh. You're going to be all right."

There was something so painfully familiar and akin in her voice that Vax glanced quickly over at Vex in reflex, but his twin was too far to reach in that moment. So he settled for patting Pike's arm again as she sniffled quietly into her shirt collar, the exhaustion of the day telling on her as on the rest of them.

In the bed, Percy grasped at Cass's hand, blindly, and held on.

The hours went by, noon turning to golden afternoon, sunrays striking brilliant through the crack in the curtains. Percy's fever climbed as time passed, his breathing dampening, cough rough with effort. Now and again he woke a little, his eyes finding their faces around him, mumbling half-heard words before slipping back into his drowse.

Keyleth's gentle singing seemed to help soothe him a bit, whether through magic or other means; Scanlan dropped by for a little while, scowling and fidgeting with his lute in grim worry; Grog shadowed Pike for a while, doing his best to cheer the frown off her face. Vex and Pike didn't leave, except for a brief trip to get herbs and supplies; and so neither did Vax, and of course neither did Cassandra, her intent face both haunted and haunting alike.

In the end, Pike fell asleep, face-first on the bedcover next to Percy's hand. Vax put an extra blanket over her, although all the pillows had gone to prop Percy up in bed, trying to ease his breathing against the tightness of his throat and lungs.

Cassandra looked up, then, her pale blue eyes blank and wide.

"Miss Vex'ahlia."

Vex hadn't stopped pacing for a while, but she stopped then.

"You know about - things about dragons, and what they do, don't you?"

"Yes. I do." Vex's knuckles whitened at her sides.

"So - will he - " Cassandra stopped, swallowing hard, her throat lurching.

Vex didn't answer; instead, she sat down on the edge of Percy's bed, reaching out to brush back the strands of sweat-matted hair from his forehead. His eyelids flickered faintly, and he turned his face into the curve of her palm, his slow sigh turning into a cough midway through.

"There, there, darling," Vex murmured, and reached for the cup at the bedside to bring to his lips. "Slowly, don't choke on it. We've got time."

That was a lie, while the Chroma Conclave still swept the skies above Emon. But there was no sense saying anything different, here in their endless moment of waiting. How funny it was that the whole world could stop for you, when one of your own's lives was in the balance, even as every other tragedy continued... Vax bit his lips, watching the raw ache in Cassandra's eyes.

Percy opened his eyes a little, then, between sips from the cup, and one side of his mouth twitched in something like a smile.

Cassandra didn't say anything else. Only sat there, fiddling with the tie on her tunic, the scar silvery across her throat in the afternoon light.

Pike was asleep, snoring softly, so Vax tried patting Cassandra's hand instead; he expected her to pull away, but she didn't. And maybe it was a little easier, waiting together.

Waiting, as the dusk came on, and Percy's wheezing breaths started to ease again, though he still grimaced and winced at each cough; waiting, as the firelight from each house and makeshift dwelling in Whitestone picked warmth out of the gathering dark; waiting, Cassandra whispering alternate threats and reassurances to her brother as she wiped the sweat from his forehead, Vex asleep in the chair and Vax propping up her head with a rolled-up cloak to keep her neck from getting sore.

Grog came and carried off Pike eventually, whose nap had turned into a proper sleep before long. Scanlan brought them food from the kitchen and wished some colorful imprecations on dragons all and sundry, accompanied by his lute; Percy might have smiled again at that, though it was hard to tell for sure.

Vax had tried to stay awake, he'd tried; but his exhausted body eventually took over, though the tangled mess of nightmares waited for him beyond. He woke a little past midnight in a startle and cracked his head on the bedpost, jerking upright. But his outstretched hand then found Percy's, limp on the sheets, sweat-damp and cool once again, and that brought him properly back to consciousness along with his sore head.

"What - happened?" Percy's voice, slow and hoarse, but without the colorless dazed note from that morning that had frightened him so.

Vax squeezed his hand.

"You had a brush with some dragon poison, that's all. Go back to sleep."

"But - we can't. We have to - the dragons - the city - " Percy tried to straighten up against the pillows, wincing and shivering at the effort, face pale in the candlelight.

"It's the middle of the night, you idiot," Vax hissed. "Go back to sleep, I said."

"You - are a funny one - to tell people to sleep," mumbled Percy, but stayed put nonetheless.

"We'll figure it out in the morning," said Vax, with a confidence he did not feel, but perhaps Percy was still too weak to adequately recognize deception. "And - don't scare us like that again, all right?"

Percy had his eyes closed again by then, a hopeful sign. "Try not to," he said.

How funny it was, Vax thought - that even when the world was falling apart, it could still feel so solid, here in the candlelight with his sister asleep in the chair half a reach away, and his friends safe and alive beneath one roof. How funny, how unfair, and how beautiful, too...

And he let his own eyelids fall closed again too, until morning, and the new battles to come.

#playing fast and loose with dnd dragon mechanics #bad things happen bingo #critrole whump #tlovm whump #crow writes a thing

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magnoliacharmed · 4 months

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Little Death

18+, Randy Orton x Roman Reigns one shot

[Also available on Archive of our Own!]

Tags: bottom Roman Reigns, vampire Roman Reigns, vampire bites, blow job, slight religious guilt, feelings

Word count: 3502

Summary:

Roman and Randy have their little arguments, but after spending another night together realize they truly do have feelings for each other.

A red rash bloomed at the base of Randy’s neck. His skin wept some sort of indiscriminate clear fluid around the flaky bits of skin that were attempting to heal across two pinprick sized holes. It was gross, gross enough that the makeup girls didn’t even want to get near him. He was a lost cause not worth ruining tubes of concealer over according to their gossipy whispers. Whenever he touched anywhere near the vicinity of his neck, pain radiated up into his skull and sent blood rushing downward to his dick. It felt good enough that the dull pain didn’t deter him from touching near the sore spot repeatedly. If it wasn’t oozing so much he’d probably be prodding and poking at it even more just for the thrill, so it was probably for the best that he couldn’t. He wasn’t in the mood to discover he had a penchant for pain.

“Yeah, you’re lucky I can’t see your reflection. You'd better be looking happy after tearing my fucking neck up like this. All smiles over there.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A small, smug smile threatened to tug at the corners of Roman’s lips. All Randy had to do was turn around to see just how happy he really was, but he was so busy looking at his bite wound that Roman knew he’d have a few seconds to pull himself together.

“Oh, you 'don’t know what I’m talking about'. Look at this shit, man.”

Randy finally turned away from the mirror and stomped over to Roman. He angled his neck up into the bright white lighting of the locker room to point at the spot Roman was quite familiar with.

“I thought vampires were supposed to be able to heal people.”

“We can, I guess it just didn’t work on you this time.” Roman shrugged as he tied up his sneaker. He was proud of himself for not chuckling too loudly at Randy’s whining.

“Are you— are you laughing? I know you’re not laughing right now.”

“I promise I’m not,” Roman stifled himself. “Wouldn’t want to upset you.”

“I’m way past upset.”

Randy moved into Roman’s space, blocking out the light above him. These little fits of anger were normal for him, Roman had come to realize. For Randy, being around Roman made his emotions get even more volatile than usual. In fact he only got more pissed off seeing that Roman never shrunk down in fear whenever he approached him in one of his moods. Unfortunately for Randy, Roman seemed to get a lot of amusement out of seeing him frazzled.

“I’m sorry. What will it take for you to forgive me?”

Randy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“You can suck my dick.”

“I was planning on doing that anyways.”

“Look, I just don’t believe that your healing doesn’t work on me. It worked before, kinda.”

“I think you want me to heal you so I can be at your neck again. You’re not slick.”

Annoyance rolled through Randy in a light wave. “Why the fuck would I want you back there when you did such a sloppy job in the first place? Isn’t biting your whole thing? I don’t understand how you’re so bad at it.”

“Okay, okay fine. What about—“

“Don’t say my thighs either. Trunks.”

Randy gestured towards his exposed legs. They were still a little shiny from his pre-match oiling up and Roman wasn’t shy about taking a long look at them. He let his mind drift back to the one time Randy let him plunge his fangs into the supple skin. The way Randy yelled out his name and collapsed on the floor when he came had been ingrained in his memory ever since. Roman didn't mind getting cussed out something serious by Randy after the fact. It was worth it to see him so weak and open.

“Well, I guess I can never bite you again since nowhere works for you.”

Panic rose very suddenly and violently within Randy. Maybe he'd gone too far with the back and forth. He was never very good at the whole banter thing. It always got too real on his behalf, leading to some kind of fight that he ended up instigating.

“I think you should try healing me one more time.”

It took one flash of movement from Roman to be nose to nose with Randy, the swift movement causing cool air around them to rush by. Looking into his eyes with a focus so intense it couldn’t be human, Roman bit down into his wrist. Thick, shiny droplets of blood beaded up at the puncture marks. Randy couldn’t help his heart beat rising at the sight of it even though he knew Roman would be able to sense it and subsequently make fun of him. Never in a million years would he have thought the taste of blood would be appealing, but here he was craving it like nothing else. Slight embarrassment prickled at him as Roman held his wrist up to his lips, but it just as soon faded into an energetic pleasure while he consumed deep drinks of the sweet, sort of rusty flavored liquid. Something always died in him when he drank Roman's blood. He wasn't much of a religious guy, but the feeling of being pulled into the darkness intensified with every drink.

“You can have as much as you want, Randy,” Roman breathed. The sensation of having blood taken from his body was weirdly painful but not entirely awful. It reminded him of when he got his balls pulled on too hard during head, something Randy liked doing to him every once in a while when he was in a bitchy mood. “You can have all of me.”

Randy inhaled deeply. It took an amount of willpower he didn't know he had to release himself from Roman’s wrist, but he managed to separate himself. The blood coursed through his veins in a rush. It always felt like the tail end of a great orgasm, leaving him wanting more even though he was never sure if he should have it. His hand automatically reached up his neck to feel at his newly healed skin. It was strangely smooth and tight.

“I’ve got my match in a few minutes.” Roman adjusted his pants to hide away his erection as he took note of Randy's slightly disturbed expression. Randy needed some kind of release and he needed it now. He pushed thoughts of burning in hell for eternity to the side for the moment-- there were more important things to focus on.

“You’re a fucking tease. And a masochist, you freak. You're gonna go out there hard?”

“First of all, I think you’re projecting there. You’ll be okay until the end of the show. Secondly, I can will it down before I get to gorilla.”

“The end of the show? That’s a whole hour from now,” Randy gritted out.

“Don’t be a baby, that's not that long. Am I coming to your room?”

“Yeah, just hurry up when you’re done here. I know you like to stand around and shoot the shit, especially when I’m waiting for you.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel special.” Roman rose to his feet and clamped a strong hand down on Randy’s shoulder. If he wanted to, he could crush his bones with one small squeeze. He instead gave him a featherlight caress before walking away.

—-

Roman was such an asshole.

Even knowing how badly Randy wanted him, needed him, he still took his sweet time leaving the arena after the show. He took a long shower until the water ran cold, talked to everyone in the locker room, the asshole even stood by the catering table taking tiny bites of food when anyone with half a brain already knew he was a vampire. Randy paced back and forth across his hotel room for what felt like hours. Just as he pulled out his phone (only to check the time and text John to see what he was up to, not to hover his finger over Roman’s phone number for the hundredth time), Roman entered the room without a care in the world.

“Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“No, just a whole hour and a half.”

“God that must have felt like forever, huh?”

Randy rolled his eyes. He had something smart to say right on the tip of his tongue, but it died away at the sight of Roman taking his hair out of his ponytail. Long luxurious dark locks spilled out across his shoulders and filled the room with the scent of fresh shampoo.

“Maybe I shouldn’t even fuck you tonight. You’re being more of an asshole than usual and I’d hate to reward that kind of behavior.”

Roman’s laugh was so loud that it filled the suite. As if he could ever be denied.

“I think we both know that you’re gonna fuck me. I don’t even have to glamor you to guarantee that.”

Randy hated being thought of as easy. He hoped that that opinion wasn't shared by the rest of the locker room.

“Whatever.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. Let me make it up to you.”

Roman playfully batted his lashes up at Randy as he moved to sit on the edge of the very soft king sized bed. Randy sighed at the all too familiar way the night was playing out. All it took were a few cute looks and he was at Roman’s bidding in an instant. What annoyed him about the whole situation was that he was sure that he would still fall for this act if Roman wasn’t a vampire too. This wasn't weird vampire love magic shit… for Randy, it was real. Deep down, knowing that made him feel a lot less pathetic and damned. At least no one could call him a fang-chaser.

“Don’t scrape against my dick.”

It was Roman’s turn to roll his eyes. “Never that, baby. Only if you want me to.”

Randy shivered at the thought of Roman's fangs dragging down his dick. “Freak.”

“You’re projecting again.”

The groan Roman was always chasing after hit his ears like a perfect melody when he began to hollow his cheeks around Randy’s cock. His length shocked him every time he saw it— how he managed to arrange himself in his tiny trunks every show was a mystery. Drool leaked out the side of Roman’s stuffed mouth messily causing him to hum while he continued sucking.

Roman blinked away the wetness that flooded his eyes. Lucky for him he didn’t need to breathe since Randy’s cock was choking him anyways. He let himself be soothed by the way Randy pulled his hair every which way. It strained his muscles but didn’t hurt him, not in the way he liked at least.

“I’m gonna come if I keep playing with your hair.”

“On my face?”

Randy sighed. There was no one else on the planet with as much resolve as him, he thought as he removed himself from Roman’s inviting mouth. Though the very pretty idea of his come getting in Roman’s lashes and covering his full lips would be a sight he’d love to see, he knew it wasn’t going to happen. He just liked to say shit like that to get Randy hot and bothered but he never followed through. Roman blew a kiss as he slid his way up onto the bed and started to maneuver himself for Randy to get behind him.

“Nuh-uh, tonight I wanna look at your face. I want you to see what you could’ve had hours ago if you weren’t playing around so much.”

“That’s cute, Randy. What’s a couple hours when I have the rest of eternity to live?”

“A couple of hours is eternity when it’s the difference between me deciding I’m through with your shit or not.”

“You keep threatening me with no sex but you never actually withhold. I don’t think I take you seriously.”

Roman let one of his fangs scrape lightly against his bottom lip at the first push of Randy inside of him. It was always so exciting to feel him go deep. Randy ran pretty warm, even for a human, and it reflected quite well in how hot his dick felt inside of Roman. Of course being undead and being lukewarm at his highest temperature made any human feel hotter, but something about Randy’s warmth felt like he was being burned inside out. A groan began to rumble in Randy's chest at how tight Roman was. He slowed his rhythm down and dragged himself in and out, causing Roman to take deep breaths with every stroke. His skin felt like it was leaving burns on Roman's.

“Already losing it? Thought I was gonna get you all night,” Roman whispered. He received a frustrated growl in response and it made him smile.

Randy ignored the shit-talking and got right into Roman's ear. “I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours.” Roman let his lips part with a moan and opened his eyes slowly to look into the bright blue of Randy's.

When Randy first met Roman, he was unsettled by the clear gray of Roman’s irises. Most people couldn't look into them for any longer than second without getting uncomfortable and Randy wasn't any different. He slowly trained himself to finally be able to hold some kind of extended eye contact with him after months of practice. There was no way he was going to let himself get punked out by someone who called himself Roman Reigns, vampire or not. Roman had to respect his boldness. In all of his years, no one had stood up for themselves to him in that way. It didn't take long after that for Roman to ask to spend the night with Randy to see if he could handle him in the bedroom too.

“Your hair’s gonna get tangled if you keep moving around like that,” Randy mumbled. He needed to focus on anything besides how good he felt. Roman shot him a glare that told him to refocus on his priorities or face the consequences. He was good about playing submissive most of the time, but occasionally he let the veil slip. He wrapped his legs tighter around Randy's waist and pushed himself down as far as he could onto his cock. Randy threw his head back, letting his eyes widen at being surrounded by Roman. It was the little things he did that made him the best Randy had ever had.

"You gonna bite me soon?" Randy scraped out.

"Ask me nicely."

Randy’s lips set themselves into a hard line. After being told to wait and doing it very patiently, Roman was still teasing him like this. If he wasn’t so turned on and desperate for an orgasm, he would’ve pulled out and given Roman the silent treatment until he left his room. The thought had crossed his mind what seemed like every time they fucked. In the end, he knew he never could do it. Roman could be as much of a jerk as he wanted and Randy would still put up with him.

“I’ve been waiting all day for you, haven’t been able to get you off my mind. I get so fucking hard when I think about you and your lips and your hair and your eyes, God I love your eyes… Roman, please give me what I need.“

Roman's teeth grazed against Randy's neck. The taste of his sweat inflicted feelings of confusion, latent terror, and a deep affection within Randy. Affection… it softened Roman up just enough to--

Every muscle in Randy’s body tightened up like a guitar string ready to snap. When he felt Roman suck at the bite he’d just left on him, all of his body relaxed so severely and quickly he thought he’d actually died. It took a lot of effort to remember how to breathe, and actually doing it was even harder. The loss of blood made him feel loopy and dumb in a blissed out way. All he wanted to do was make Roman feel good. The urge to make him come was primal and animalistic, sending his mind into a frenzy that his body tried valiantly to follow up with.

He gasped when Roman came away from his neck. The flush that reddened up his cheeks shocked him every time. He looked so alive— it was unsettling. When he licked his lips to catch the remaining drops of his blood it sent Randy back down to earth. His eyes glazed over for a few moments as Roman bit into his wrist again.

Without a second thought, Randy eagerly took his own drinks of Roman and began to pump hard inside of him. Roman laughed and laughed at the increased vigor from his partner. It was always funny in an endearing way to see him get so worked up after having blood. His smile fell away and his hands clenched into the sheets when the tip of Randy started to brush against his prostate. He barely looked present as he thrusted roughly inside of Roman.

“Should come all over your face for making me wait. Make you walk back to your room with it on you. Take you through the lobby, let the boys see you covered in me, fuck. Show ‘em you’re mine.”

Randy buried himself to the hilt in Roman, completely pressed against his prostate. It only took seconds for Roman to shut his eyes and arch his back off of the bed when he came. The way he shuddered below him made Randy press his face into the bed and release deeply inside of him. Randy seemed stunned at Roman's heavy breathing and relaxed expression, surprised as usual that he was the one that made him come so hard.

Several minutes after Randy pulled out of Roman and cleaned him up, he decided to ask the one question that he'd been wondering about for a while.

“What do you feel like when you take my blood?”

“I don’t know, I just feel good. I feel satiated and warm. Knowing that I have you in me forever coursing through my veins comforts me and turns me on like crazy."

Roman knew that they weren't the sentimental conversation type. The uncharted territory made him nervous, a feeling that was quite alien for him. Randy on the other hand wasn't sure if he should be flattered or on edge. The implications of the sentiment scared him shitless. Forever was a long, long time. But if Roman was willing to do forever, he was more than ready to too.

"Let me get the knots out of your hair." Randy began to attempt to untangle Roman's mane of hair. He didn't want to give himself another thinking headache.

“How does my blood feel for you? You start acting like a fiend whenever we can’t fuck for a while so I’m assuming it’s pretty good.”

“It’s like… it’s like… have you ever done coke? Or ecstasy? Or meth? It's like being on all three at once. You almost feel guilty from how good you feel. Shit is awesome, man.”

“Wait, you've done meth before?”

“On accident, yeah. Was with some guy, he asked me if I wanted to party, I didn’t know he meant like that.”

“You still could’ve said no.”

“Yeah, well.”

And that was the end of that conversation.

—-

Roman watched Randy rub at his neck idly while he spoke to John. From the pinched expression scrunching up his eyebrows and squinting his eyes, John was probably ribbing him pretty badly. As big and tough as Randy was, he was so sensitive sometimes. It was cute when it wasn't annoying. Roman approached the two slowly so as to not scare an already cagey Randy.

"Oh hey, Roman. I think you've gotta stop biting Randal in the same spot every time. The makeup artists have to powder him down just right there--" John pointed a thick finger at the exceptionally shiny healed skin. "--and that's saying something 'cause he's already oily as fuck. Maybe you should go for his thighs."

"I brought that up already, he told me no."

"You're both stupid, must be sharing the same half a brain. I wear trunks."

Randy pushed past the both of them to walk in the direction of catering. Having his blood taken made him even hungrier than usual. Yes, it was the blood being taken and not being worn out from the sex. His cheeks burned thinking about the previous night.

"Going to catering, sweetheart? You must have really worked up an appetite, your boyfriend here can barely walk."

"Shut the fuck up, Cena!" Randy yelled as he turned a corner. The laughs of his friend and his lover (Boyfriend?) echoed irritatingly in his head. At least John wasn't a vampire, too.

#randy orton #roman reigns #wrestling #magnoliafanfic #wwe smut #wrestling smut #wwe fanfiction #randy orton x roman reigns

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writingpaperghost · 1 month

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I think I'm going to give a little snippet each of my two other Rider roleswap AUs. This is the Fourze one, since I want to maybe get a bit more of the W one before I show anything.

Everything about Amanogawa High School was too bright; its students, its faculty, even its uniform, with its bright blues and reds. Amanogawa was where you went when you wanted a bright future – when you wanted to go to the stars. In that regard, Ryuusei Sakuta was horribly out of place, he had no desire to go to the stars, and his new uniform felt more like a prison compared to his old, dull, uniform back at Subaruboshi. Though he’d shed Subaruboshi’s brown uniform for Amanogawa’s bright blue and red, he wasn’t happy about it.

Amanogawa was a step towards the stars, and Ryuusei wanted nothing more than to stay on Earth.

Where Jirou was.

As he walked past the gate of Amanogawa, his new school, he checked his watch. He still had plenty of time, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. His parents thought that a change of scenery would be good for him, leave behind his problems at Subaruboshi. Ryuusei begged to differ, though, as now he had to start at a new school and deal with the fact that his best friend was in the hospital showing no signs of waking up.

“Make sure to make a few friends,” his mother had told him when she’d seen him off that morning. The last thing Ryuusei wanted to do was make friends, at Amanogawa of all places. Not when he was more worried about the friend he already had.

The homeroom teacher of class 2B seemed nice enough, Ms. Sonoda. He didn’t get to talk with her much, before class, not that he particularly cared to. He wanted the next year or so to go as quickly as possible, so he could go back to Subaruboshi. The bell rang and the class began to quiet down.

“Everyone, we have a new student, through the exchange program with Subaruboshi High School.” Ms. Sonoda introduced Ryuusei, and now all eyes were on him.

It was fortunate, or unfortunate for Ryuusei, that Subaruboshi had recently begun an exchange program with Amanogawa. That program was the only reason he’d found himself at a different school, now. He had the grades for it, but it was his parents who’d practically forced him to apply. It was just his luck that Ryuusei was the one chosen.

“I’m Ryuusei Sakuta,” He hated that he had to be here. “Let’s get along.”

“You can take the empty seat there in front of Utahoshi.” It wasn’t like Ryuusei knew who that was, but it was easy to tell where she was referring to. There was only one open seat in the classroom, after all. He supposed that made the grouchy looking boy behind it Utahoshi. Not that it mattered much, Ryuusei figures as he heads to sit down. He’s not here to make friends.

The girl beside him smiles, “I’m Yuuki Jojima,” she seems too friendly for Ryuusei’s liking. Ms. Sonoda begins to talk, though Jojima doesn’t seem to pay her much mind. “I can show you around-“

“Please pay attention, Jojima,” Ms. Sonoda called out. Jojima winced a little, but turned her attention towards the front with a small frown.

The next few hours went by quickly enough, Ryuusei let the instruction hold his attention more than much else. It was still far too long for his taste, and he was relieved when lunch finally came. He had intended to make a beeline for the cafeteria, but was stopped by Jojima.

“Let me show you around,” Jojima insisted.

Ryuusei hid his grimace with a polite smile, “No thank you, I’ll be alright.”

She frowned just a little, before that smile returned, “Amanogawa’s got some interesting groups, you’re new here, so you’re probably not going to fit in with anyone…”

“I’m not too worried about that,” Friendship isn’t needed here anyway.

“Come on,” Jojima grabbed his wrist and began to drag him out of the classroom, barely giving him any time to protest further. He sighed, deciding it would probably be best to let her do what she wanted.

At the very least, she waited until he had gotten lunch to launch onto her explanation of Amanogawa’s cliques. “You’ve got the popular kids, the football jocks, the nerds, the delinquents, the occult goths…” She listed, gesturing to each group. “And then you’ve got groups like them. I don’t even know what they’re deal is.” She gestured to where Utahoshi sat with another girl, who appeared to be something of a goth.

“All schools have their in groups of some kind,” Ryuusei responded. That was true even of Subaruboshi, though perhaps not as noticeably as here. Amanogawa appeared to allow a lot more leeway in their dress code. Well, Ryuusei had read the handbook, he knew for a fact their dress code was very lenient, not even requiring the school uniform. His parents had simply insisted he had to wear it, to his own dismay.

“Maybe…” She frowned a little again, before looking at the time. “Ah! Sorry, I have to go, I’m supposed to meet with someone!”

Ryuusei shrugged, “It’s fine.” He wants her gone, anyway. Something about her smile was starting to get on his nerves. She was way too earnest.

Oh, and that odd pair of Utahoshi and the goth had disappeared. They, like Yuuki, must have had somewhere else they’d rather be. Then again, so did Ryuusei, unfortunately for him, he just couldn’t go to where he’d rather be.

#kamen rider fourze #linking with the only one called you #Eternity Will Never Fade in Our Hearts Carry On #roleswap au #my writing #kamen rider

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kae-karo · 2 years

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Somehow only just saw the wip ask game. Artist!Kaeya x Zhongluc?

hello dear !!! alksdfklsdfj VALID and an excellent choice!! for context (x)

artist!kaeya x zhongluc was inspired when i saw a piece by this artist on twt (x - alas, it appears they took the specific art down 😔) and my first and only thought was 'rich married zhongluc seduce artist!kaeya and get him to come live with them' and it spiraled a bit from there lmao

skilled but struggling artist!kaeya weasels his way into an upscale art gallery where well-known art connoisseurs zhongli and diluc find his art (and him) very appealing. they each independently commission pieces for each other respectively, though kaeya gets a bit of a weird 'these guys are flirting with me' vibe and suggests that the next time they meet, it be with both zhongli and diluc present. lo and behold, though, they are ofc still flirting with him lmao

ANYWAY this leads to them basically giving him a room at their veritable mansion and any and all art supplies he could desire as well as a steady salary and fully use of all the mansion's amenities. and, ofc, oh my god they were roommates lmao

a snippet, one of the pieces that keeps me intrigued by this au cause i really wanna deal with kaeya feeling like he can't be too personal with his art cause if it reflects him, it'll be bad (forgive the formatting, this bit has yet to make it out of my discord lmao):

the next canvas is smaller, more intimate. it has to be. he paints limbs, far more than there should be, and he doesn't care to correct it. they tangle and twist, almost inhuman but not quite. inhuman for their number, for the way that an arm extends under a chest and over another shoulder. legs that twine once more than they should be able to. he doesn't think about the uncharacteristic saturation of his colors - when did he last paint without dulling it all to shades of brown and gray? but bright greens serve as cool backdrops to all shades of yellow and orange and red. colors - colors, and he finds diluc there, and zhongli. sees the blue he never meant to paint, and finds it surreal not to hate a piece of himself spilled onto a canvas. finds this alien, strange depiction to be the most he's ever felt like himself, and he collapses back onto his heels with a breath heavy with relief and exhaustion in tandem.

send me a wip name from this list (x) and i’ll tell u about it!

#ask game #wip game #fic game #ask #rebornfromsea

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baizhuo · 2 years

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❥ ; baizhu’s color blindness

a couple of days ago , i made an offhand joke in discord of baizhu being blind but also most likely ‘ sees ’ like a snake . which got me to think about it . no , i didn’t mean that he sees in infrared . he doesn’t . but i had asked , what do snakes see ? it turns out that they see in two colors rather than three : blue and green . ( according to good ol’ google ) so i thought i would look into what that would really look like in baizhu’s case . i wanted to see what i could do for somebody who cannot see reds . but first i had to look up the different kinds of colorblindness before i could work with making a filter that fits closely with what i personally wanted .

i found that there is proton color blindness . meaning that the eyes have trouble differentiating between reds & greens . after snooping around on photoshop i was able to look at a proton color blind filter . the problem is that with that specific color blindness , the greens are also different . i didn’t want to drastically change green as well . so instead i messed around and found a filter that is more what baizhu sees rather than a protonomaly . with this filter , it really takes out only colors that have reds in them .

before I give examples of what baizhu would see in a landscape , i wanted to show you all what the color wheel would look like . obviously i wrote down what each wheel is . the center is what a proton color blind person would see , the right is what baizhu sees .

below are the examples of what baizhu sees .

the first / top image is ‘ NORMAL ’ the second / middle image is PROTON the thirst / bottom image is what BAIZHU sees .

example 1 :

example 2 :

example 3 : this kind of shows that baizhu can still see color , the blues and greens just look a bit different .

example 4 : when using elemental sight , certain elements look different for baizhu .

example 5 : fire looks yellow instead of orange .

example 6 : more examples of reds being yellow

example 7 : shows how reds / oranges are yellow . meaning that baizhu cannot differentiate between reds , oranges , & yellows

essentially , baizhu does see color !! he is not like 100 % color blind , and he can still see some colors ! but some of the colors are dulled or not as bright . but the greens are !? a bit brighter for him ?! which is a bit of a plus for him .

in all honesty , i saved the psd for baizhu’s sight , so in case anybody is interested in seeing what baizhu sees for a certain character , please let me know , i would be more than happy to show you . diluc is one of the few that look VERY different than what people normally see . zhongi isn’t gold / brown to him , & qiqi actually doesnt have her bright pink eyes ( they actually look very dead for him ) .

anyway i had some more thoughts about this but i’ll save it for another time .

oh , one thing to keep in mind is that baizhu doesn’t mind the colour blindness . i know that for us ( who see color ) , it is weird to see , and it might not look appealing , but for baizhu , he doesn’t mind , he’s always grown up with this kind of sight anyway . that & he’s blind anyway , so he doesn’t rely on his sight much anyway . but that is for another day and another post .

#hc.#repost.#this is still one of the best things tha ti have every made #& i am so very proud of it .

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whumpering-heights · 2 years

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Villain's Rescue: the Reunion

MASTERLIST

[A/N: At last! I rewrote this like 3 times, but I think it was worth it.]

Tagging: @whumpsday @pumpkin-spice-whump-latte @octopus-reactivated @fanastyfinder @whumpy-arts-and-crafts @arsonfrogger @burtlederp @harri-00

CWs: drugging, panic attack, blood, hallucination mention, implied brain damage, (or mental problems at least)

Villain woke to the familiar sting in his elbow. As he cried out and thrashed, he realised he wasn’t restrained. He was laying down, on something soft, why was he laying down? It didn’t matter, he had to get the IV out, now! It was hard to grab the tube becauce of how his hands were shaking, and his breath was ragged and fast. Out, out, he didn’t want to lose anymore of himself, please! He yanked, and the bright red dripped down his pale arm in a solid line. It was kind of pretty. But it wasn’t out yet, he wasn’t strong enough. There was a dull ache, but he didn't even notice under his panic. He prepared to pull harder. Then, Hero had noticed what he had done and ran toward him.

“Villain, stop!”

Hero, tall, big-shouldered, angry, entered his vision, and Villain tried to scramble away.

“No, please, no more, you-you said, I wouldn’t have to go back unless I did something, please!” Though, the joke was on him for ever trusting his word.

Hero got on the bed (bed? Why was he in a bed?) and tried to pry his hand away.

“Villain, stop it! You'll hurt yourself!”

He was grabbing him, he was going to drag him back! Villain knew he shouldn’t, but he fought anyway.

“Please Hero, not the chair, don’t put me back, you said I didn’t have to, not again! Haven't you ruined enough? God, please!!”

A second pair of hands tried to take his trashing limbs. Smaller, younger. Was Sidekick here? He couldn’t focus enough to see. Hero’s low voice, which sounded a bit different than usual, was clipped.

“Villain, stop! I’m not Hero, you’re safe! Hey, look at me!”

Maybe, if he just behaved, Hero wouldn’t have to put him back. It took some tries, but Villain finally got his captor in his sight. Something was off about the picture, but he was too panicked to notice.

“Please, Hero, just stop hurting me, I’m sorry-”

“Shh, it’s okay. Look at me. What colour is my hair? What colour, Villain?”

Of course, Hero was blonde, what kind of question... Oh, wait.

Villain blinked, trying to clear his vision. The person holding him down had brown hair. The confusion was enough to finally still his limbs. He felt something warm run down his arm. Was he bleeding? When had that happened?

“What..?” he asked, suddenly feeling very tired and scared in a different way. “Who..? Wh-where am I? Where’s Hero?”

“I’m Vigilante, and you’re at my place. I got you out. Do you remember that?”

Flashes of memory ran through Villain’s mind, but they were hard to hold onto. The second he remembered, it would slip away again. Everything felt so fake, and his thoughts were like oiled up marbles.

Sidekick was crying softly, he heard, and he looked over at him.

Oh, but that wasn’t Sidekick at all. He was hallucinating again, it seemed. He saw Henchwoman. He screwed his eyes shut to not have to look at her. Sometimes his mind twisted the illusions into something scary, something that made him cry in terror. But then his vision was black, blindfold-dark, and he opened them again fast. Better to have visions than nothing at all. He settled on turning his head away from the delusion, which made him notice the IV again. Vigilante was still gripping his hand tight to keep him from tugging it.

“V-Vigilante?” he asked, unsure and scared of the answer. “Wh-why am I on drugs?”

“You’re not on- They're just fluids, and something for your fever. It's just medicine, Villain.”

The hallucination spoke, voice heavy with tears.

“Boss? Boss, can you see me?”

Villain flinched. If it wasn’t drugs, why was he seeing ghosts? Was Vigilante lying? What if he wasn’t Vigilante at all, and he was still at Hero’s place? He tried to push his tears enough to be able to speak.

“V-Vigilante.. Hero.. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know where I am, why am I on drugs again? Please, please get them out?”

Vigilante/Hero nodded. “Alright mate. I’ll remove it for you, I’m sorry they made you scared. No more IV, got it.”

“Thank you,” Villain breathed.

He thought he felt a thin hand lightly his hair, appropriately ghost-like and barely there, and he curled up to pull away from it. Please let him return to sanity before the whispered accusations start, before the haunting began for real.

The illusion sounded distraught.

"Boss, I'm sorry. Please, I tried to rescue you as fast as I could, I promise. I didn't mean to leave you for so long, please look at me?"

Villain shook his head. Not real, none of this was real. It couldn't be, and he clung to reality with all he could. He just wished his senses would quiet down soon.

Even though it wasn't real, the crying next to him made his heart ache.

“Vigilante, why won’t he look at me?”

“I don’t know Hench, " Vigilante responsed. "Who knows what he’s seeing right now. He will, give it time.”

Every time Villain thought he had reached the peak of his confusion, his brain was thrown for another loop. He turned his pale blue eyes to Vigilante. Or rather, what he thought was him.

“Wh-wait. You.. Can you see her? Henchwoman, can you see her too?”

The brown-skinned man looked up from where he was pressing something to his elbow wound.

“Yes, of course I see her. She's real, I promise.”

“Boss?”

Villain looked back at the apparition of the young woman. Her curls, while still wild, were limp and dull, and she was skinnier. If Vigilante had heard her, had responded to herquestions...

“Am I... Am I hallucinating you both?” asked Villain, weakly trying to grasp any kind of logic he could wring from his broken mind. Hench sniffed their tears away. Oh, he’d always hated seeing them cry, and instinctively, Villain wanted to comfort the illusion.

“No Boss, please, I’m real! I survived, Vigilante got you out. I’m here, I’m here, please!”

She wiped his eyes with her sleeve, just like she had since she was a teen.

For a long moment, Villain just stared at her.

“They... They told me you died. Is it really you?”

Hench nodded. She moved to hold his hand, but pulled it back at the last second. Perhaps she remembered how Villain had reacted, when he still thought she was a hallucination. And maybe she still was. Maybe Villain was dreaming. Either case, he decided not to waste the opportunity.

He reached up, and pulled the young woman close to him. He gripped herturtleneck as tight as he could, and cried into her shoulder.

“Ada, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, “I am so sorry, please forgive me, I-I should have kept you safer, I’m sorry!”

After a brief moment of shock, Hench embraced him just as tight. She hiccuped through her sobs.

“Wh-what the hell are you apologizing for, Boss?”

Ada ran her hand over Villain’s matted hair, swaying lightly from side to side. Just like Villain used to do to her. Villain melted into the touch, and for a moment, he felt safe. He still wasn’t sure what was going on, the memories of being rescued were too vague to be reliable. But even if it was a dream, he was happy.

“I’m so happy you’re back, Hench. You know I love you, right? I-I never really said it, when you were alive, I should have.... I’m saying it now, I’m sorry, please don’t go.”

She hushed him.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, Boss. I love you, too, and I knew. I always knew. And I always will.”

Villain nodded, feeling the relief flood his system and pulling him down into fogginess again.

“Ada.. I’m scared, I don’t wanna sleep.”

“Nightmares? Don’t worry, I'll stay right here.”

“N-no,” Villain explained in a soft whisper. “I’m scared I’ll wake up in the cell.”

And yet, he felt exhaustion pull at him. He clung to the living ghost tighter, who rubbed his back.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m sorry this doesn’t feel real, but I promise it is. I’ll be right here, Boss, I’m not leaving you again. Tell ya what,” he softly laid Villain down on the bed, holding his hand and touching his shoulder to comfort and ground him. Villain feared that they would disappear if the touch went away.

“You don’t have to sleep. Just rest for a moment, with your eyes closed. No pressure, if you don’t sleep that’s alright.”

Villain felt a smile form on his face. It felt foreign, like his muscles weren’t used to it anymore. Vaguely, like poorly developed film, he remembered throwing a blanket over Hench’s shoulders, while she still sat at his work desk. Just rest your eyes, he’d say. No need to sleep, just do nothing for 10 minutes. The kid would be so exhausted, they’d usually wake up somewhere in the afternoon.

“You... You stole my line,” he joked.

Hench smiled too, through her tears. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and the lamp behind her turned her curls golden around the edges.

“Alright, you caught me. You’re going to be alright. Just rest, and heal, so you can be yourself again.”

As Villain, against his will, was pulled back into unconsciousness, his last lucid thought rang through his head. A worry, nagging at him through his fuzzy happiness.

He was himself already.

This was just all that was left.

#whump #mental whump #behind the masks #my stuff #my writing #villain #villain whump #vigilante #whump writing #drugging #panic attack #blood #hallucination mention #implied brain damage #(or mental problems at least)#mwahahhaha this one was fun #henchwoman

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geltears · 2 years

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rings and roses

Rindou Haitani x Reader

Summary: childhood friends, now roommates and Rindou thinks it's about time he acts on his silly little crush

chapter 1- in my pocket i’ve got the world just for you

Rindou finds you exactly where he was told you'd be: on the pool-deck with your knees pulled into your chest as you attempt to fit all of your limbs on one, flimsy bench. His eyes scans your figure and for a moment his nose scrunches up in distaste at the smell of chlorine that's radiating off of you, before he decides that you look perfectly fine. When he's a bit closer, you raise your head from where you were fiddling with your toes and wave at him, yell something of a greeting that's polite and as sweet as you always are (or so Rindou guesses because he really doesn't have the attention span at the moment).

You watch him slowly make his way over to you, with that dull expression that you can never read on his face, and you move over to make room for him on the bench. He surprises you by kneeling down in front of you, which leaves you wide eyed and much, much colder than before and you suddenly have the urge to reach for your towel because the pool water has never been this cold before. When Rindou wraps his hands around your foot to pull it towards him, he quickly draws his arms back into his sides. Your skin is wet and cold and softer than he remembers— not that he really remembers anyway.

A nearby girl— the girl that almost never comes to practice but when she does show up, always seems to surprise you and yet, you don't know her name— offers Rindou a stool. The concrete will bruise his knees, she said, her intentions pure as light but no- Rindou strongly believes that his worn-out sweatpants will do just fine, no stool needed.

"So...is your foot ok?" his voice makes itself known.

It's just a twisted ankle, is your meek response to which he quickly leans a bit lower to inspect your indeed, bright red and swollen ankle. You bite down on your tongue, hard, when Rindou's thumb brushes over the most sore spot and he sends a pleading smile your way, it's soft and one of the most boy-ish ones you've ever seen so you think, it'll have to do. "You're too clumsy," he mumbles as he turns away, still keeping one hand on your leg, to dig into his pocket. You eye the ball of bandages curiously— oh? "Do you always keep that on you?" And no, he absolutely does not but the manner in which Ran had called him and relayed the message of your accident was so horrifying, he just happened to pick it up on his way out the door.

"No." he says a little too quickly, "I got it from the nurse on my way here." You only shake your head, keep your eyes focused on where he's wrapping your ankle. You smile a bit when he finally stands up and brushes off his pants because well...he just looks very mundane at the moment and it makes you think of how he giggles like a "fool" when you two have your occasional movie night. Say, you haven't done one of those in a while...

He helps you off the bench and chuckles when you almost fall face first to the ground but of course, he's there to scoop you up, bridal-style and prevent your fall because no, Rindou would never let anything happen to you. I mean, save for this little incident today but he's sure that if he was there, he would've found a way to prevent it— pull you away before you fell off the diving-board or something. "Ok so maybe, I can't walk by myself," you admit. "Huh? You think?" To which you flash him one of your toothy smiles that you know he likes.

"I would've walked eventually," you mumble (more to yourself than to him). He hums in acknowledgement as he stays put for the few seconds that you take to twist in his hold before finally deciding to knot your hands into his shirt. For stability, you'd say if he (or anyone else) ever brought it up.

"Sure," he finally says and you have to look up at him curiously because it really did slip your mind. The two of you stare at each other for a while, basking in peaceful silence and god, his eyelashes are so long. You have half the mind to reach out and swipe your thumb over his cheek, just to feel his eyelashes— you're sure he'd let you and as he picks up on the mischievous glint in your eyes, he lets a wide smile of his own wander onto his lips. He would let you, if you asked or just implied or anything really. "Walking, I mean," he clarifies, "You would've definitely walked eventually."

Ao3

join the taglist for this fic

#r&r's🏹#rindou fluff #timeskip rindou #haitani rindou #rindou haitani #haitani ran #haitani brothers #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou x you #haitani rindou x you #rindou haitani x you #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #college au #multichapter #fanfiction

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

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Daddy Issues | Draco Malfoy

Wow I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disappear like that Lovelies! Sometimes I forget depression and writers block are a thing until they punch me in the face and force me to go MIA for a hundred years! I guess I’m back? I hope? Fingers crossed? Anyway, I’m sorry this isn’t a TVD fic but I figured Y’all would appreciate something over nothing. I missed you all more than I can say! I hope you enjoy, I love you all!

Description: Draco and y/n are best friends until Draco’s father threatens y/n. She avoids Draco until he confronts her.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: Like none, it’s kinda sad but not really, the only flaw is bad writing

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

(not my gif, I just love it lol)

Your heart stings from across the courtyard, the gap between you and the blonde boy tangible. For a second you don't know whether or not your heart is even in your chest anymore or if it’s in his hands. In that case your heart is sitting on a bench, sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Vincent Crabbe. Maybe he isn’t holding your heart, though, maybe he is your heart, in which case you’re avoiding your heart’s piercing gaze.

Your hands twitch at your sides, itching to grab his or to twist through his silky hair or do anything other than lay idle when he is only mere steps away from you. Your hands ache to touch him and usually you would be doing just that: clinging to his robes or twisting the rings around on his fingers or simply tangling your own fingers with his slender ones. Your hands feel painfully empty without him to hold on to.

That makes sense though, he’s your best friend after all. You’re rarely ever spotted less than five feet away from each other. Everyone at Hogwarts can see how utterly entwined you are, every part of him wrapped around your finger and every part of you sitting precisely in the palm of his hand. You orbit each other, drawn in by a gravity that the rest of the student body can’t deny.

Right now, though, that gravity is being tested and everyone feels a little bit like they’re floating away.

Draco sits exactly seventeen feet and four inches away from you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, like lasers, searing into your black and gold jumper and refusing to look away. It burns but you embrace it, taking any contact, even imagined, that you can get from him. Even if it hurts. You would gladly burn for the blonde Slytherin if it made him happy. This doesn’t make him happy, though, being ignored by the girl that commands his entire life. You know that, but you also know that it’s for the best.

You run your hands through your hair, tugging on the strands relentlessly and closing your eyes. You see his father, the tall, grim man, and replay the conversation you had in your head.

“He has a bright future ahead of him, y/n.”

Lucious had backed you into a corner, both metaphorically and literally, the stone of the castle biting harshly into your skin, “I know that, sir.”

He stood tall, menacingly, like he was bigger than the castle itself, “he doesn’t have time for nonsense, y/n.”

Your hands trembled, the cold of the dungeon nipping at them fiercely, “he’s very bright, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think I’m slowing him down.”

The neutral, if not cold, expression on his face switched then to one of red hot anger, “did I ask what you think? It’s time the two of you separate. He is to be married next year and not to some silly Hufflepuff girl.”

“We’re just friends, sir,” your eyes had long since found the floor.

“Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. If I catch you near him from this day on I will not hesitate to destroy you, do you understand me? Do not speak to him again.”

That was two weeks ago and you haven’t dared to go near him since, spending every waking moment of your spare time in the Hufflepuff common room. You aren’t brave, you didn’t march up to your best friend and tell him that his father threatened to destroy you. You would be lying if you said you even thought about it. The reality of it is that you’re a coward and have iced Draco out in fear of having his father hurt either of you.

His father’s words still ring in your head. Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. Your heart flutters hard in your chest, your rib cage the only barrier keeping it from finding him across the courtyard. Draco is infatuated with you. Apparently. He hasn’t said so, only his father. Still, you can’t help but hope that it’s true.

But then that makes your chest burn and palms sting again. You aren’t allowed to hope that Draco wants you. You aren’t even allowed to hope that he wants to be your friend. You’re not allowed anywhere near him, let alone allowed to kiss him. Would he even kiss you? Probably not. You tug even harder on your hair, as if pulling each strand out will somehow take the pain away. Don’t be daft.

“Y/n,” gentle hands wrap around your tight fists, “you’re hurting yourself.”

You forgot Luna was there, sitting next to you on the bench, the bench that is seventeen feet and four inches away from Draco. You let the airy Ravenclaw unravel your fingers and hold one of your hands, rubbing circles on the back of your palm. It doesn’t feel the same, her grip is too soft, her fingers too short. Draco’s fingers are longer.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of him from your senses, “sorry, I know I’m not the best company right now.”

Luna only smiles at you and rolls her eyes gently, “I know it’s hard for you right now.”

Of course you told her. You weren’t able to tell Draco so you turned to Luna, your other best friend. You nod your head at the blonde girl, too tired to speak.

“I think you should tell him though, he looks bloody miserable without you,” your eyes widen as if on their own accord.

You feel dizzy at the thought and not the good kind like when Draco spins you around. No, this is the bad kind of ‘I’m definitely going to throw up’ dizzy. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears rapidly. Thump, thump, thump. It almost sounds like footsteps, angry ones, pounding towards you. That can’t be right.

“I can’t tell him, Luna, you know that.”

A hand lands on your shoulder, warmth spreading through your jumper. You open your mouth, ready to thank Luna for relentlessly comforting you, but close it quickly when a thought hits you. You glance down to your lap, just to double check. There, on your lap rests your hand carefully wrapped up in both of Luna’s. Crap.

“What can’t you tell me?” It takes everything in you to not let his familiar voice curl around you and pull you further into his touch.

You shift out of his hold, not turning to look at him yet, afraid to see the expression on his face. Would it be anger? Sadness? Disgust? The last one makes your heart drop, the thought of the blonde boy being repulsed by you causing you to curl into yourself slightly. You would take anything from him but that.

You stand curtly, turning to face Draco, all too aware of the lack of space between you and him. Six inches at the most, every breath he takes makes his chest brush yours. You still don’t look up at him, not anywhere ready to meet the eyes of the boy you’ve been avoiding.

You lock your eyes on his silver and green tie, mumbling to it instead of him, “What makes you think I was talking about you, Draco?”

You finally glance up at him and wish you hadn’t. His eyes, usually a bright blue, are dull and rimmed with red. The bruises under his eyes stand out against his cheeks. He’s always had dark circles but this is extreme. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, like he hasn’t eaten in days. It’s almost garish, but then again nothing could ever make the Slytherin Prince look anything less than perfect. He looks destroyed, almost as if his father had gotten to him too. You have to stop yourself from reaching out, choosing instead to look away again.

“Are you serious right now? Tell me this is all a joke y/n!” The courtyard goes silent when Draco raises his voice.

You squeeze your fists, the tone of his voice a punch in the gut. He never shouts at you. Draco is never anything but soft around you. Right now, however, he’s seething. No one around you dares to make a sound.

You close your eyes, trying desperately to stop a traitorous flood of tears, “Draco, please don’t do this right now.”

Draco takes a step back, as if your words had shoved him, “if not now then when? You’ve given me no choice! You run every time you see me, you don’t answer my notes. Do you even read them anymore? Can you just explain why you bloody hate me?”

His voice cracks when he says hate, like its acid in his mouth. In any way it’s acid to your ears. You could never hate Draco, it’s very much the opposite actually. You’re painfully in love with him.

“I don’t,” you have to pause to clear your throat, trying to rid the lump, “I could never hate you.”

His hand grasps you chin gently, his rings cold against your skin as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes, “then tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You squeeze your eyes close, sinking into the warmth of his palm for a moment. You can’t remember a time you’ve gone this long without the blonde boy touching you. You can’t stop the tears from trailing down your cheeks and into his palm. You can feel the hitch in his breath as if it had come from your own lungs. You wrap your own hands around his, squeezing his fingers gently before pulling them away from you.

“I can’t, Dra. We can’t do this anymore. I’m,” your voice trembles, your eyes still closed, his hand still locked in yours, “I’m not good for you. We can’t be friends.”

You release his hand, taking a few steps back from the love of your life. This time, though, he doesn’t let you get as far, taking two steps towards you for every step you take away from him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s in front of you again, closer and even more determined. His eyes burn into yours, his hands restless. You know he wants to touch you. At least, you hope he does. You want to.

“Don’t say that,” there’s a strength behind his words, one you have yet to hear until now, “don’t you dare say that! Tell me what’s going on y/n, you need to tell me! I can fix it. I can make it better whatever it is just please tell me. Please, love.”

Love. That’s new. Your heart cracks even more when he says it and maybe that’s because you know you won’t get to hear it again. You wish you could grab the word from his lips and hold on to it. You want to put it in your pocket so at least you can have a part of him, the very best part of him, for when he walked away. But you can’t, so there’s no use in trying.

“You can’t fix it this time, Draco,” you take another step back and your back hits the rough surface of a tree.

He fills the space between the two of you once more and this time you’re stuck. Your palms continue to sting, reminding you relentlessly how much you need to touch him. You scrunch the hem of your jumper, trying desperately to quell the pain. Your wrists feel like they’re on fire, something you’ve come to realise that means you’re about to have a panic attack. He can't see that happen, you refuse to fall apart in front of him.

Of course he notices, though. That’s your Draco, he notices everything about you. That’s his job.

He grabs your face again, stopping you from frantically looking everywhere but him, “of course I can. When have I not fixed your problems? Remember when those Ravenclaws’ were messing with you? I took care of that, didn’t I? And Parkinson? Zabini? I took care of them too. Remember when Snape wouldn’t let you hand in your assignment because you had the flu? And the time you passed out in the stairwell? I fixed those too because I can. Because I wanted to and I do what I want. Now, all I’ve wanted for days is you so if someone said something to you I need you to tell me so I can sort them out and get my best friend back. Now.”

He stares into your eyes the entire time, daring you to turn away. You feel like you can’t breathe, your hands once again wrapped around his but this time clinging for dear life. You’ve been terrified for two weeks and the exhaustion hits you in one, whopping punch to your stomach, the second punch of the day. Without warning your legs give out, all of your weight falling into the blonde who seems to expect it. His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest for the first time in what feels like ages.

You don’t realise that you’re sobbing until you try to speak, “Dra, I’m so scared. I’m tired,” you grip his robes in your fists, your head falling against his chest, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m falling apart.”

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against him. You can feel the sigh of relief he releases and his heartbeat slowing as if it’s your own. Maybe that’s because yours does the same. For the first time in weeks you’re engulfed in Draco and you cling to him, circling your arms around his waist and pulling yourself impossibly close. He wastes no time either, wrapping his cloak around you and burying his face in your neck.

Your body shakes furiously in his arms, everything you’ve been bottling up comes pouring out in a torrent of sobs and hiccups. Draco presses closer to you, towering over you and shielding you from the rest of the world. You let his peppermint scent engulf you completely,

“For Salazar’s sake y/n I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I need to fix it, love. Please tell me,” his voice is low and choked.

He’s right, you know he’s right. You squeeze your eyes tighter and grip his back, savouring the muscles under his dress shirt for a few more seconds before you know you’ll have to let go.

“Your father told me we couldn’t see each other anymore. He told me,” you pull out of his arms, leaning back against the tree, “he said, well, it doesn’t matter what he said. We just can’t be together.” Draco’s eyes widen and your cheeks heat up, your words ringing through your ears, “I mean we can’t be friends.”

Draco steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear but you’re almost positive that it’s a curse. When he opens his eyes, your heart stops. His blue eyes burn into yours, glassy and angry but with something else too, something hot and fierce. Your heart restarts when he places his arms against the tree, caging you between it and him. You can’t resist placing your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up as well.

“What did my father say, y/n.” He isn’t asking you, he’s telling you.

You lower your eyes, not bothering to fight him anymore, “he told me he would destroy me if I kept being friends with you. He said you were getting married and that you could never marry a Hufflepuff and that he would destroy me if he had to.”

He staggers back with each word, like each one shoves him more than the last. He squeezes his fists before straightening his fingers, shoving them once more through his hair. His shoulders are tense, his back straight. His eyes are screwed shut again.

“Bloody hell,” he pulls at his hair, biting his lip, “he’s lost his damn mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, tugging at your jumper, suddenly hot all over. Now is not the time to be getting riled up over Draco but you can’t help it, he looks exquisite. Messy hair and an un-tucked shirt, the veins in his hand prominent and his rings glittering in the afternoon sun. He’s absolutely and undeniably perfect.

“It’s ok, Dra, you’ll be ok,” you try your best to comfort him but he snaps his eyes open, looking at you like you’ve gone mad as well.

“My dad threatened to kill you! No I am not okay!”

This time you walk to him, pulling him into your chest again and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sweeps his arms around your waist, pulling you so close that you have to stand on your tiptoes to keep your arms around him. His hands grasp your hips tight and you immediately know what he wants. You oblige, wanting it just as much if not more, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his stomach. You tuck your face into his neck this time, breathing in the slightest hint of apples, green ones.

You don’t speak, practically feeling the words bubbling in his chest, “My dad told you he was going to kill you, love. He threatened you and he didn’t even tell me. I am definitely not okay. I need to do something. I need to talk to him. And he told you I was getting married? He’s lucky he isn’t here. I don’t care if he’s my father, nobody talks to my girl like that.”

He’s rambling, something he does when he’s at his end. His words wrap around you, tangling with every part of you and sinking into your skin. They lull you into a daze of sorts, almost nodding off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realise how tired you are until you’re in his arms, safe. And then it hits you, and you’re wide awake again.

“Your girl?”

You cut him off mid sentence, squeezing your legs tighter around him to bring his attention back to you.

“What did you say, love?” Draco hikes you further up his body, readjusting his grip on you.

Your cheeks flame, your neck hot. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something that you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give. His lips are so close to yours, his breath hitting your lips with every exhale. The courtyard around you fades away and Hogwarts itself holds its breath.

“Did you call me your girl, Draco?”

He doesn’t blush like you thought he would, “yes, I did. That’s what you are. Mine. And Merlin help my father for trying to take you away from me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, letting his words sink into your flesh. They curl around your bones, laying down a warmth that you’ve been craving for longer than you can remember. He’s right. Of course he’s right, he’s Draco. You are his and you always have been. His arm around your back tightens, jostling you enough to make you cling harder to him. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair. He leans his head back, giving in to your touch willingly.

He holds your gaze as your fingers weave through his silky hair, capturing you with his eyes and refusing to let go, “I’m yours, Draco. Please don’t let me go.”

He leans his forehead against yours, “never, love.”

Hogwarts releases the breath it had been holding, the noise of the courtyard once more fluttering around you. You go to get down from Draco but he stops you, tightening his arms. You only shake your head and smile, letting the sunshine warm your face.

Your heart aches slightly still though, “what are we going to do about your father, Dra?

He starts walking, the sudden movement causing you to tug his hair a little harder.

His voice is strained when he finally answers, leaning down to rub his cheek against your head, “just let me handle that, ok?”

You give in, for now, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes for the final time, “where are we going, Dra?”

“We, my love, are going to take a very much needed nap.”

#draco malfoy #draco #malfoy #draco x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x female reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter #hufflepuff #slytherpuff #slytherin

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #lan wangji #lan sizhui #nie mingjue #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #little side door

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sleepingdeath-light · 3 years

Note

reading the crossover headcanons for TOH was amazing!

i wanted to request a crossover with TOH and Steven Universe if possible! (also with Hunter x Reader) You can decide between reader being half-gem, like Steven, or fully gem! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay! Aand I really love your headcanons! You make them long and detailed! It's truly amazing.

Crossover Headcanons | SU x TOH [Hunter x Gem//Hybrid!Reader]

thank you for requesting, anon

These are written with a gender neutral reader in mind and have a general chronology from the reader’s last moments in little homeworld until they end up with Hunter, so apologies if this gets long!

Note : this is the first time I’ve written for the SU canon, so I’m not as experienced with that universe. Also my portrayal of these characters is still pretty rocky, so I may rework this in the future.

The first few months you spent in Little Homeworld had felt almost like a dream come to life; freedom to be yourself and explore a world full of organic life without the restrictions placed on you by the diamonds? It was fantastic! However, that feeling of unrestricted feeling soon started to grow stale as you realise that the growth of the small colony had already started to stagnate—and that not all humans were welcoming of intergalactic immigrants like your kind.

So to ease your mind you opted to take the warp to the next star system over—craving that same sense of excitement that you had during the gem war

Simply standing on the warp again was enough to get your blood pumping with a reignited vigour for exploration

A feeling so palpable that you failed to notice the array of spindly cracks that spanned the surface of the device, and the way that a sickly dull light pulsated beneath your feet (the sight accompanied by a warning hum far too low for you to notice)

Though you couldn’t ignore the way the warp didn’t immediately go off like usual, nor could you neglect the searing pain that spread through your veins and constricted your throat; leaving you in so much pain that you couldn’t even move or scream before your vision was engulfed in a glitching, sickeningly bright light

It must have been several hours later when you woke up, based on how high the sun was in the sky… was the sky that red before?

Your head was pounding and although your vision was blurry, yet you couldn’t ignore how different your surroundings were from the earth you were used to

The sky was a faint red and the ground beneath your feet was dusted with deep maroon grass—it was soft and warm under your fingertips but with how much organic matter there was you knew that this wasn’t a colony

Hell, you didn’t even arrive on a warp on this end, so either you had been transported to somewhere else because a malfunction (unusual, but likely) or someone had taken you from the receiving warp and dropped you off in the middle of a clearing (far less likely)

Suddenly struck with worry, you sat up and moved your clothes to get a good look at your gem, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw it undamaged (clearly you’d landed where you woke up as most organics would have tried to remove it from your body before dumping you)

Realising that you were mostly safe you slowly rose to your feet and decided to explore your new environment, hand hovering near your gem in case you needed to defend yourself from whatever creatures had made their home here—trying to make yourself appear as small, quiet and unnoticeable as possible as you went

However, your efforts seemed to be in vein as you were quickly greeted by an excitable and loud human girl who practically screamed her welcome to you

You were torn between fleeing and fighting her when she offered her hand and introduced herself as “Luz the human”, her demeanour quite closely mirroring what you’d heard about Steven when he was younger from his mothers—it was almost endearing how much she tried to hold in her joy at seeing another “human”. You almost didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth as she walked you back to her home.

You were accosted at the door by an organic tube with an owl’s face that quickly and gleefully introduced itself as Hooty—the creepy, but rather friendly, house demon

Luz made an effort to hastily brush him off and hurry you both inside where you met with the other two inhabitants of the home as well as Luz’s “awesome girlfriend”, Amity.

Eda, an older witch with grey hair that hardly suited her age, greeted you with muted suspicion, not even taking her eyes off of you as she addressed the human at your side—seemingly unsure of your motives but trusting herself to be stronger than you (if her grip on her staff was anything to go by)

King, however, was much more brazen and blatant in his distrust of you, stomping over and pointing an accusing claw up at you as he threatened you in every way he could muster (even if all that got him was a halfhearted coo from you that left the creature more frustrated and downtrodden than before)

The guest, Amity, meanwhile, looked over at you with disinterest before she caught a glimpse of your (colour) gem peeking out from your clothing—immediately pointing it out and questioning you about it, much to your chagrin

This inevitably led to a very long and semi-complicated conversation discussing the intricacies of your species and how, no, you’re technically not a human

No you weren’t trying to deceive Luz, either, you just felt too awkward to correct her

But when all was said and done (and you were all out of steam after a several hour session of intense questioning and frustration at miscommunications) they seemed much more relaxed around you—even willing to let you stay with them, at Luz’s request, so long as you pulled your weight around the house and helped to keep them safe

And, really, how hard could that be? You fought in an intergalactic war so taking out a few organics should be a piece of cake (as Steven would say)

After spending a few weeks in this strange new world you had come to realise one specific thing; it wasn’t easy. It was, in fact, the exact opposite.

If you had to bubble one more guard you were going to scream

What had they done to make this Emperor hate them so much?

It felt as though half of your time was spent bubbling, blocking or disabling people that had made their way to the Owl House—and the rest was spent painstakingly explaining your abilities and species to Amity, Lilith and Luz

Granted, that wasn’t the most stressful part of your stay

That was hands down the stresses that came with visits from Luz’s friends from Hexside: the endlessly kind and protective Willow and the ever-curious and annoyingly quick witted Gus

That being said, you did appreciate their enthusiasm to learn about and accommodate you—even if the look Willow gave you when you spoke about the empire’s treatment of organic life did leave you rather shaken

So what little free time you had was spent learning about the local culture and sharing your experiences with them

Training with Amity and Eda

Helping Willow with her plants in whatever way you can based on your gem

Creating gem clones to help Gus perfect his illusions even further

Teaching Lilith and Luz about your abilities as well as those of your fellow gems, even helping the latter learn to write using gem glyphs

It was heartwarming to see others so passionate about your home, even if their insistence on pushing you to your limits could be rather frustrating (especially early in the mornings when your patience ran thin)

However, the longer you spent there the more members of the Emperor’s Coven (amongst others) you ended up coming across. One particularly memorable instance occurred when you were escorting a fretting Amity through Bonesborough with the twins (who’s presence you had grown rather fond of as their visits became more frequent).

Ed had dragged Em back to the library a good few minutes ago, leaving you and Amity to your own decides as you weaved in and out of the foot traffic—only to stop completely when the youngest Blight suddenly froze before grabbing your hand and darting off to an adjacent alleyway

As you went to protest, she promptly clamped one hand over your mouth and gestured rather violently for you to stay quiet before nodding towards a figure just a bit away from you

From the golden mask and white cloak you knew they were a member of the Emperor’s Coven—but you’d seen them before, on the posters littered around the city, each exploring passersby to join their coven

Golden Guard

That was a definite threat

So you passed the girl a spare cloak and did what you could to mask your own appearance before carefully making your way back home, shopping be damned—one hand over your gem just in case he happened to notice you

Though thankfully he didn’t

Not that it stopped you from filing him away as someone to be wary of anyway; he was the emperor’s right hand man, after all, so there was no such thing as being “too cautious”

And for a while that’s exactly what it was, not that you saw much of him that is, but from what you’d been told about Luz and Amity’s run ins with him you were glad to have never seen him face-to-face. If you had, you were almost certain he wouldn’t come out unscathed—teenage protege or not.

So with all that in mind, the last that you were expecting to see on a relatively peaceful Saturday evening was the unmasked Golden Guard practically unconscious and leaning on Luz and Eda for support as they burst through the door

Completely ignoring Hooty as usual as they carefully laid him down on the seat beside you (after you’d hurriedly gotten up, that is)

He looked to be in an awful state, with his visible skin bloodied, bruised and scarred whilst his usually pristine uniform was tattered and caked in dirt and what seemed to be even more of his blood

Seeming to notice your distress, Eda briefly addressed you and her sister before sending you all off to gather supplies (or heal if your gem allowed it)

“The kid’s been through a lot, but he’s with us now. Trust me, I wouldn’t have carried him all this way if I had any doubts about it.”

And that was that

It took Hunter (as he introduced himself) over a week to even be able to get out of bed and walk around unassisted—and whilst he actively avoided speaking about what had happened to him, you had a feeling that Belos was somehow involved

Though things were still rather tense for a month or so after he arrived, no matter how hard Luz tried to integrate him (and no matter how polite and welcoming Willow and Gus tried to be)

And you didn’t even want to recall the shouting match that occurred when Amity saw him in the living room with Luz….

It seemed as though he was just more content to shut himself away with L’il Rascal and only interact with Luz and Eda; the former to learn from her and the latter because she wouldn’t let him get away with anything but

That wasn’t even mentioning the palpable tension between him and Lilith (she would only say that it was from their time in the coven—and Luz suspected he’d annoyed her a bit too much—but nothing else would come of it)

But the others were worried about him, so you were sent in as a neutral party to talk with him about… things. You weren’t really told what and you didn’t have the time to ask.

Initially he was incredibly closed off and would only address you briefly, barely even acknowledging your presence as he gave his full attention to the scattered papers on his desk, each depicting a different spell and each ever so slightly off

So, as gently as you could you took the quill from him and drew a simple glyph on a spare scalp of paper, carefully leading him through the motions before leaning back and activating the spell (and smiling at his much more openly interested expression)

That then sparked a deep conversation about different types of magic—specifically wild magic and glyphs—as you shared what you knew about the topic with one another, every so often breaking off into laughter or patient silence as he’d run across the room to show you his notes or books he’d found

Naturally this would lead to him asking you about where you came from and you discussing your origins with him

Homeworld

The Diamond Authority

The gem war

Colonies

Soldiers

Shattering

The Crystal Gems

Everything

He was incredibly easy to talk to as he listened with a genuine intensity to what you said, nodding along and even asking well thought out questions about your world where appropriate

Depending on how close you were, he may even ask to see your gem and ask about its purpose

If you let him touch it, he’d be so very gentle, almost treating you as though you were made of glass—maybe even sketching it down and noting down your abilities and weaknesses in his personal notebook and apologising if it was weird

This mutual interest in magic and your shared experiences of either having to conform to a specific role your whole life [full gem reader] or feeling out of place and weaker because of your shortcomings [half gem reader] would be the basis of your friendship turned relationship. The transition between the two would be so incredibly seamless and slow that you wouldn’t even notice it happening—one moment you two were best friends sparring and the next you were hiding your blushing face in his neck as he hugs you and apologises for hitting you a bit too hard with his magic.

Your relationship would be sweet and slow and genuine

Hunter is new to receiving any kind of affection, so you’d probably have to teach him a thing or two—but he’d learn quite quickly so don’t worry

He’d spend hours studying your culture and language just to write you notes or offer you affirmations in ways unique to your culture, even calling you “my (Y/n)” after a while

Likewise, the first time you called him “my Hunter” he was left red in the face for the rest of the day (he loved it, though, so don’t stop)

But the moment someone makes a teasing remark about how soft he’s gotten (usually one of the Blight siblings or his own younger sister figure, Luz), Hunter will partially revert to being cold in public (whilst still being affectionate and openly touch starved in private)

In short, your relationship with him would be built on a foundation of mutual trust, affection and understanding that sprouted from friendship and honest conversations about your passions and pasts

#reader insert #sleepingdeath hub #hcs #headcanons #steven universe #su #toh x su #the owl house #the owl house x reader #the owl house golden guard #the owl house hunter #toh #toh x reader #toh golden guard #toh hunter #hunter x reader #golden guard x reader

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theperfectlovestory · 3 years

Text

You Are My Home

I DON'T OWN THE PICTURE

Information: This will probably have multiple parts but stand alone (?) I'm a bit nervous to post this cause this is a more personal uhh imagines 😂

Summary: It's been a long time since your friends saw you, a lot has change and you are in a better place in your life. Specially the relationship part

Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Theme: fluff

TW: none (?)

Word Count: 2,241

"Hey guys" you greeted, giving a small smile to your friends. It's been a long time since you all had the chance to talk together

Everyone has been busy and since you left your original city 2 years ago, the best you can do is chat with them once in a while

You are confident that the relationship with them is strong but you are sure many things have changed. But change is good, specially since you left with heavy heart and full of uncertainty

Right now you are in a good position in your life, and everyone is free, or at least made sure to make time. But still, the best you can do is video call for now

After 2 years this is the first time you've seen everyone. While they keep in touch and get together once in a while. You just were too far, both physically and mentally

"Hey, long time no see" Steve teased and you chuckled

"Damn you look good" Natasha commented "been taking care of yourself, I see"

You made a face and nodded "happy now I finally hit the gym like you always nag me to?" She chuckled

"Hey, just want you healthy"

"I know, thank you. Your voice is actually what pushed me in training" you leaned on the table, placing your cheeks on your knuckles "I can just hear you berating me for being so weak"

Everyone chuckled, agreeing that she does do that

"But in all seriousness, you look happy" Bucky complimented

Sighing, you nodded, finally at the position in your life where you can actually see yourself having a bright future

"I am, finally got my shit together, mostly at least"

The topic then transferred to your other friends, enjoying their presence even just from the screen. Laughing together just like the old times

"(Y/n)?" You turn your head to the voice, your girlfriend, Elizabeth calling for you coming from the second floor

"Darling, I'm in the dining" you answered and immediately heard footsteps

Without looking at the screen of your laptop, she smiled, excitedly tilt your head by your chin, kissing you deeply

Every one of your friends are stunned. Of course, you never showed them any public display, not like you had the chance anyway since you never really pursued anyone for years you were with them and now here you are kissing Elizabeth Olsen

Very famous actress, part of big filming companies, a producer as well

"Damn (Y/n)..." Natasha whispered and you laughed when Lizzie finally realized you were actually on a video call

"Oh no, sorry baby" she said wiping your mouth and hers with her sleeves, you shake your head to stop her

"You're fine, or not. But Lizzie, meet my friends" you gestured on the screen and Lizzie shyly waved at them. Blush dusting her cheeks as she pursed her lips into a decent smile. Your taste still lingering on her mouth

They said a quick hi to be polite then suddenly spoke all at once berating you for not telling them you are dating "the Elizabeth Olsen". The actress, the girl of your dreams

Then it was your turn to blush when Bucky mentioned that she's the reason you never had any interest in other people. She was just too 'shiny' to you, the other just seemed dull

Elizabeth looked at you with new found love in her eyes as you got bullied by your friends. She can't help but give you a quick kiss on the cheek before apologizing for interrupting your moment with them again

"Oh no, you did not interrupt at all. We probably wouldn't even know she's dating if you didn't come" Tony said and everyone told him to shut up

"It's not like how it sounds, Ms. Olsen. (Y/n) is very proud of you, she just really doesn't like speaking about her relationships" Peter explained and Elizabeth chuckled

"Oh I know, that's why we are not in public anyway" she patted your head "but it's okay. I don't want to drag her in the mess of Hollywood so if you can just keep all this between us" she gave everyone a small smile and they either shrugged or nodded

"No problem" Natasha answered "I'll make sure these idiots don't slip up"

Elizabeth gave them a big smile before she left to get breakfast. Once she is gone though they started attacking you with questions again

"Fine fine" you sighed, finally giving up "we met a few months after I left, I applied to the Marvel Studio as set decorator. I was fixing up the set the night before with a bunch of my coworkers so the shooting will proceed with ease. I'm usually just there at night so when she came looking for her phone, which I actually picked up and was planning to give to the lost and found before leaving, they pointed her to me. I gave it to her, she thanked me and that was it'' you shrugged

"Then how did you two got together"

Pursing your lips, knowing they wouldn't stop anyway you told them

It was the wrap up of the filming for Endgame. The biggest movie you will ever work with if you are honest

A bunch of A-listers are there and a lot of demands have to be met so for the first time, the whole movie you had to be in and out of the sets. You barely slept or ate in the past few months. You apartment even collected dust since all you did there is go home, take a shower, then go out

You mostly slept on set. By the end of the filming your body is screaming for rest. But you kept going anyway. This project is a very big deal for you, specially you lead the look of the set. anything that needs to be changed, moved, removed, added to the set goes through you

So basically, all day you stand in front of the set, watching the designers work their magics and you requesting changes, assessing the atmosphere in pre production and etc. and at night, clean up and set up is a bitch

One morning you were so tired you wanted to pass out there and then when Elizabeth enter the area. She was shooting all her parts today that can be soloed

You tried to keep yourself awake and alert to anything and everything so when you noticed an uneven ramp and props that she will unfortunately stepped on, your body started running before your mind can comprehend what's happening

She let out a squeal when she broke her ankle and fall but before she hit the ground and risk further injuries on her wrist that is sure to break her fall, you were catching her

But your body felt so weak that instead of staying up right, she fell on you. At least she wasn't hurt at any part of her body but you were, you hit your head on impact but it was minor

If ever, it only made you dizzy

She stood up and you did as well. You rubbed your hand on your face, ordering staffs to re-arrange and clean up the set so no more obstacle can cause accidents

You didn't even dare look at her eyes knowing those green orbs will suck your life out of you. You asked her if she's okay, also apologizing for the dangerous set up. It was overlooked that she would be indeed walking in heels, boots but heels nevertheless

"It's fine, I'm fine" she said, smiling but her eyes are full of worry "are you though? You hit your head when you broke my fall" she said, even unconsciously touching it

"Uh yeah..." you awkwardly smiled at her "it doesn't hurt, thanks" you then slowly back away. When the props have been arrange, the shooting started but your body felt so weak you had to call your assistant to cover for you

You went to the area where you always rested and slept. You were out for almost 2 hours when a cough woke you up. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and ask what they need without even looking at them

"I...brought you food, and coffee" your head snapped, looking at the voice you only dream of talking . She had a small and awkward smile and shy look in her eyes directed to you

"I was looking for you where you usually stand but noticed you weren't there" she explained, your face obviously gave your confusion away "I wanted to thank you again, the stunt director said that if it weren't for you, I would most likely break my wrist in that fall"

You slowly nodded, giving her a small smile "well, it was our fault for not triple checking the set"

"No no, please don't do that, accidents happen, I'm just here to thank you. It was me being clumsy too" You look at her with newfound admiration, a firm believer of 'never meet your idol, it will disappoint you'. But it wasn't the case with her at all

You are aware of the rumors that she's actually very kind, down to earth and serious with her job. It's a good rumor considering she is well known and if you are honest, you know deep in your heart it is true, but you never get your hopes up high

If only you met in a different circumstance, maybe you would think of trying to flirt a little but you know your place. This is a work situation and you need to be as professional as you can be. She is still an actress after all, you need to respect her space

It doesn't mean that she is being kind to you, it's an invitation to step into that space of hers. So you muster the most professional smile you can

"Well thanks, it's really no problem" you said with indifference and if you are actually not too much in your head, you will see her frown with the change of tone

She then handed you the food and the coffee "I'd actually like to talk more again sometimes" she said, swallowing the tightness in her throat "maybe for a coffee?"

The invitation did wonders in your body. Your heart is just beating a tad bit faster, your stomach filled with butterflies, your cheeks turning red. All the cliché reactions you can feel, it's there but then you moved and you groaned, your body sore from over work

You were so sure you wanted to say yes, but your body clearly wanted to say no. After this shooting, you just want to drop dead in your apartment and maybe wake up 3 months after

"I'm just so tired recently, I will be no fun" you chuckled, exhaustion dripping on every syllable "but hey, maybe a few weeks after the filming is done, if you are still up for it?"

The sadness of rejection from earlier was turned into a big grin. Her excitement sparkled on her eyes "sure, I'd give you my number then"

You nodded and gave her your phone. She didn't even have to ask for a password because you never put one in. It's easier since you give your phone to your assistants all the time to contact people for updates on props shipments and other business related matter

She excitedly tapped her number, saving it as 'Scarlet Witch' and that made you giggle. Using her screen name that's not even canon yet

"Okay, Scarlet Witch, I'll call you when I finally get some well deserve hibernation, then maybe I'll be more fun to talk to than a usual" She laughed and nodded and you are so sure you can never be more in love with her voice

She then said a few more things before leaving you to rest. You thanked her again for the food and coffee before she disappeared

"I can't believe you almost rejected her" Steve said wide eyed "she's like, your dream woman"

"Oh I can" Natasha said "(Y/n) doesn't hit uncertain, have you ever played with her on anything? All her hits are aces!"

"But it's like the chance of a lifetime!"

"Yeah! That's why you make sure you attack when you know it will hit!"

The two started bickering and you all just watched, laughing at their same old antics. Elizabeth then walk to your side, offering you a fruit bowl for breakfast, you thanked her and then invited her to seat besides you and she did, you kissed her off camera

"What was that?" She chuckled but tried to catch your lips again when you pulled away, you giggled at her pouty face

"Nothing, just suddenly can't believe I'm actually dating you" she sighed, giving you a small smile

"You might think that you're the lucky one but it's actually me" she said, pressing a hand on your cheeks and squeezing it lightly "you make my life whole, (Y/n), you filled the space in my heart where money or popularity cannot"

"And you picked up and fixed my broken pieces" you countered, leaning on her hand that's now just slowly rubbing your cheeks

"I guess we are both lucky then"

"Yeah"

Your eyes both glint the same way. Feeling like you finally found where you belong, in each other. You are home

#elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #imagine #domestic

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some-kindofgnome · 3 years

Text

you turn me on (i’m a radio)

bokuto comes over one night midweek while you’ve got the apartment to yourself. after a mishap with his favourite volleyball shorts, you take advantage of the privacy.

c: koutarou bokuto x reader

wc: 5.4k

tags: smut (18+ please!), college au, aged-up characters, oral sex (both receiving), praise kink, begging, soft and sloppy sex feat. bo the horny simp giving u the creampie of ur life, body worship if u squint

notes: bo has a fat ass and I have a praise kink. that is all. oh, wait, i should also mention that this is mostly unedited. so if u see typos feel free to point em out! thx 💕

the song this bit is named after is so sweet and sunny & makes me think of bo all the time, so give it a listen if you’d care to! ☀️

ALSO forgot to mention that this was inspired by a tiktok i saw like a million years ago where this girl was helping her boyfriend get out of his too-small rugby shorts. it has been lost to the ether but you better BELIEVE if i ever find it again i’ll be linking it here

EDIT: @karikarasuno the absolute ANGEL has scoured the internet and found the tiktok in question. p l e a s e go and watch it, u will not regret 😌

(MASTERLIST)

“’Kay, okay, I’m going!”

Bokuto tears himself from the tender press of your mouth in one fell swoop. As he whirls away with a tempted giggle, he combs his fingers through his mussed-and-sweaty hair. Practice was only two hours tonight, but he still doesn’t want to leave your side even long enough to shower.

You’ve only been dating for a few months, still lingering in that phase of every new relationship that feels too good to last. Your emotional involvement in one another deepens by the day, but you never fight. And you have a shamefully difficult time keeping yourself away from him. On a weeknight like this with no big assignments to speak of, you should be catching up on your readings, your chores, or even your sleep. But when you passed Bo in the quad earlier, pausing in your walk to class for a hi and a kiss, you’d invited him over before you could even stop yourself.

He’s nice to be around. Pleasant, unhindering. Even if you wanted to finish some readings or do some laundry while he’s over, he’s happy to be idle in your company. He is infuriatingly patient and understanding sometimes, compared to the slew of demanding, needy boyfriends that came before him.

You watch him retreat into the safety of your bedroom, grinning like a fool. He’s fresh out of practice and practically dripping in sweat, dried from the walk you shared from the athletic center. Your evening class that night wrapped up around the same time as his practice, and when you passed the gym doors on your way home, he was already loitering on the steps with his teammates. Instead of pretending he didn’t see you or offering you a casual, passing nod like you expected, he practically bounded down the wide concrete steps and introduced you gleefully to the pack of volleyball players behind him who already knew you well.

There was no way you were letting him go all the way home to shower first. Not when he’s never minded smelling like your orange-and-sandalwood shower gel in the first place.

Once he’s disappeared, you give a yawn and a deep stretch and haul ass off the couch, padding into the kitchen to tidy up the snacks you shared on the way in the door.

You’ve barely got the first plates in the sink before a muffled babe? from the bedroom gives you pause.

“Bo?” You call back, setting your handful down and trying to keep your brow from furrowing too deeply. “You okay?”

“Can you… um…” His response starts off strong, louder than before, but it dwindles into a dull, unintelligible mutter that sounds uncertain enough to send you away from the kitchen.

You gently shoulder the bedroom door open, frowning at his broad shape, silhouetted in the shadowy bathroom doorway from the light behind him. “What’s the matter?”

Feeling along the wall for the light switch, you illuminate the pot lights over your bed.

Bokuto’s cheeks are gently flushed as he waddles toward you with his thumbs dug into the waistband of his volleyball shorts. The fabric is tough and certainly seems clingy, but there’s a strain in his neck and shoulders that takes you a minute to pin down.

“I can’t…” he starts to say, trailing off, then pulls his hands out of his shorts and drops them to his side with a heavy, defeated sigh.

“They’re stuck.”

You force the corners of your mouth downward, tightening the line of your mouth to keep the mirth locked firmly in your throat.

“I can see that.”

He’s been hitting the gym hard lately, shoving down the calories to try and bulk up a little for the upcoming tournament season. And while you know he’s been putting on some weight, since he tells you just about everything, it never occurred to you that he might be bulking up quick enough to outgrow his favourite shorts.

Bo lets out a quiet little whine, digging a thumb into the waistband one more time and prompting you to step forward.

“How stuck are you?” You reach for him. He turns sideways, twisting his chin over one shoulder to try and assess the situation from every plausible angle.

Oh. You slap a hand to your mouth.

The waistband is rolled down around his hips and already strained to its absolute limit, stuck on the sharp swell of his butt and already compressing the flesh in a way that looks genuinely painful. He’s wearing a pair of tight white compression shorts underneath the uniform shorts in question, but they’re not doing much to aid the situation, either.

You’re eager to get him out of those shorts for several reasons now.

“Alright.” You try to keep your voice low, stepping up to his front and gently laying your hands on the stiff cotton roll at his hips. “Let me just-“

“I don’t know what happened,” he whines, slotting his hands on top of yours and squirming in between them. “They were hard to get on, but-“

“Don’t worry,” you interrupted softly. “We’ll get them off you one way or another.”

The fearful reflection of your sharpest kitchen scissors in his eyes suggests that he believes you.

Your first two attempts are about as successful as Bokuto’s solo endeavours. First, you wedge your hands into the fabric at his sides while he pushes from the front and back, but you give a hard shove while he lets up on the tension and his elbow very nearly connects with your nose, so you try a different approach.

Coming round to his backside, you dig your hands into the space between his uniform shorts and the tight spandex that holds what’s left of his modesty.

“Okay,” you pant, already a little breathless after dodging Bokuto’s flying elbows. “What if I-“

“Hang on,” he prompts, but it’s too late. You wind up and jump as hard as you can, using the downward force generated to try and shove the confining waistband down over his hips. It slides down another couple of inches, and inspiration flares in your chest as Bokuto turns over one shoulder, sweating.

“It’s working!” Your voice comes shrill with excitement, and before he can stop you you’re jumping again, shoving even harder this time. You meet resistance this time, and before you can clue in to what’s pushing back Bokuto howls in pain and doubles over, clasping his palms between his thighs.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” You drop to one knee beside him as he descends into pained laughter.

“’S alright,” he promises, “I didn’t want kids that bad, anyway.”

You can’t help the snort that bubbles forward from your chest. Bo straightens slowly as his pain fades, but you stay on your knees, determined to get him undressed without resorting to textile violence.

Determination settles heavy and proud across your shoulders. You look up through your brows at him and when your eyes meet, his cheeks pink softly.

“We got this.”

Bokuto’s throat bobs. He nods shallowly and pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

You slip your hands into his shorts again, rolling them slowly down his thighs. Bokuto averts his eyes, letting out another audible gulp. Just when you’re starting to get somewhere, his hips twitch and he shifts his weight restlessly from one leg to the other.

“Stand still,” you scold, giving his hip a little slap. His breath hitches, hands flinching forward as he dips his torso backward.

“Um,” he pants. When you look up at him again, his neck and ears are bright red and he’s got his eyes trained firmly on the Star Wars poster hanging above your desk.

You level your gaze and realize two things.

1) Bokuto’s not wearing anything under his white compression shorts.

2) Apparently, your little scare wasn’t nearly as painful for him as he let on.

“Babe,” you tease. “I’m flattered, really.”

“C’mon!” He protests, scraping his fingers through the wild strands of his sweat-clumped hair. “What’d you think was gonna happen if you got down there all…”

“All what?” You lean forward without thinking, nuzzling the spandex that sits in the groove between his hip and his thigh. He groans deeply, letting his head fall back. His cock, thickening at the base, is still restrained tightly by the waistband of his shorts. You can practically see it throb into its confines, and his groan pinches tight with discomfort.

“Baby, please.” He’s wound his hands tightly in the front of his t-shirt by now, rucking it up over his belly for some way to dispel the tension. “Get ‘em off. Please.”

“You’re not exactly making it easier.”

A desperate whine from over your head suggests that maybe the time for jokes is passing. You abandon all coyness and tuck your hand under the weight of his balls, gently tugging down on the waistband and freeing all of him from its confining pressure. Bokuto gasps and lets his hips swing forward, but his dick swells quickly to fill its new, spandex restraint and you figure you’d better work quickly.

“God, this is really turning you on, isn’t it?” You can’t help the eagerness in your tone as you attack the swell of his hips one last time. With all his sensitive parts in the clear you don’t have to hold back, wedging and wrenching until the widest part of his pelvis is free and the shorts drop to the floor with a soft little triumphant rustle.

Bokuto groans like he’d just been strapped to a time bomb, stepping out of the fabric and kicking it towards the door. He drops the hem of his shirt and reaches for you, but you’re already leaning in to nose against the crook of his thigh some more, peeling down the stretchy, forgiving top of his compression shorts.

“Wh- babe.” He flushes. “I haven’t showered-“

“Don’t care,” you hum, entranced by the hypnotic length of his shaft, white spandex stretched sheer and dabbed with wet at the tip. “Want to taste you.”

“Are you s- oh, you’re sure.” His hands surge forward, this time soothing lovingly over the crown of your head as you tug the stretchy fabric down to his knees. His cock bobs eagerly against one thigh, unaffected by its confining endeavour, and you lean in and seal your mouth against the seam of his groin, where his shaft meets his body.

He is bulky and broad, thick cords of muscle and fat spanning his thighs and torso. His thighs and pelvis are dusted all over with wiry silver hair, and you bury your nose into the trimmed patch of it over his cock, licking eagerly at his soft skin.

Above you, Bokuto shudders hard enough to buckle his knees while you trace your hand up the stiff length of him. You’re trying your best to hide just how deeply you want to breathe him in, the addicting musk of his sweat filling your brain and sending deep throbs of arousal straight to your pussy.

“So hard,” you groan into his hip, “just from letting me get on my knees for you?”

He draws a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing at the back of your head as his eyelashes flutter. His face is beet red from nose to hairline now.

“W-well, what else was I s’posed to- with you lookin’…” He is borderline incoherent, and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet.

Adorable.

“You smell so good,” you murmur without thinking, flicking your eyes to his quickly when you realize what you’ve said. But it only serves to push his own arousal further, cock throbbing palpably between your fingers as he curses quietly through his teeth.

“Please,” he groans, letting his head roll back. “Don’t tease.”

You can’t deny a request as pleasantly worded as that.

After planting one more teasing kiss along the plane of his shaft, you draw back to his tip and give your tongue an enthusiastic flick, dipping it into his weeping slit. He yelps, and you swallow him down before he can ride out the shock, making him shiver. You can feel the tremor racking all the way down the column of his spine, his toes curling on the floor by your knees.

When you start to bob your head, his jaw goes completely slack. You’re learning to love the way he doesn’t hold back with you, a point made obvious by the expressions crossing his face as you settle into a steady rhythm. You can’t fit his entire length- impressive, not that he knows it- into your throat, but when you grip the base of his shaft with one hand and the spit from your throat drips eagerly between your fingers, he practically goes cross-eyed.

You fight the urge to smile around him, leaning into the way he fusses and grips at your skull.

“Nggh, babe, not gonna last long… when… suckin’ like that.” He’s grabbing your head with both hands, rocking his hips tightly forward in time with your gaudy slurping. You’re drooling all over your hand, spit dripping obscenely down your chin and onto the hardwood, but his whimpers are growing to obscene levels, punctuated by deep, chesty growls and quiet, slurred praise.

There’s no way you’re going to back off now.

You’ve been with Bo long enough to know his tells, so when his thighs start twitching and his voice pitches from his chest into his throat, you re-double your efforts, intensifying his pleasure until he’s howling and panting like a beast, rocking tightly into your mouth with his abs drawn tight as a bow.

“Ohhh, babe, lemme cum on your tits,” he pleads, slurring every syllable together as he looks down at you with unimaginable bliss mounting in his gaze. “Please, please, please, your tits, lemme cum on ‘em.”

With a smirk touching one corner of your mouth, you drop your free hand between his thighs. Until now it had been braced delicately on his hip, gently mitigating the wild bucks and twitches of his body giving into ecstasy. But you’d picked up one little trick that never failed to boost him over the edge- and send him falling that much further as a result.

As you draw your mouth back from his twitching cock, you close your free hand around the heavy sack of his balls- drawn up tight to his thighs in preparation for his orgasm- and give the supple skin a gentle little tug while you arch your back and jerk him off against the swell of your chest.

Bo’s voice shoots up a twelve-tone as his hands slide from your hair to your cheeks. His fingers tremble as he cups your face, throwing his head back with a wild yowl and wildly humping your fist. The first long spurt of his cum hits you square in the throat, dripping down between your collarbones and soaking the neckline of your tank top as he rides out the powerful waves of his climax. By the time it’s over, his thighs are shaking hard, tough lines of muscle standing out against the silver hair while his cock dribbles ripe streams right down your shirt.

He deflates with a heavy, heady sigh, falling to one knee in front of you and keeping your face gathered between his palms.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he moans, leaning in to capture your mouth and dip his tongue sloppily against yours. As soon as he’s found your lips he skates his hands down your shoulders to your breasts, lovingly cupping and thumbing the tightening buds of your nipples where thick shots of his cum are soaking into the white cotton. You can’t help the shaky little sigh that catches at the back of your throat, or the aching way you lean into his touch.

“G’nna-“ he cuts himself off, dipping his face into your throat. He licks into the tender column of your windpipe, bringing one big palm to the back of your neck to hold your head steady while he tucks his chin in and tastes the wet stripes of his cum that paint your décolletage. You’re not exactly sure what to expect, but the long, wet groan he lets into your chest is a pleasant surprise. He slides his hands from your neck to your shoulders to your sides and up the plane of your back, drawing you closer while he laps the mess from your collarbones and neckline.

“C’mon,” he mumbles into the swell of your left breast. “Gotta taste all of you.”

He slips his arms underneath you, lifting you with little more than a quiet grunt of effort as he gets to his feet. He holds you lovingly against his chest, striding slowly across the room and depositing you onto the bed with a smooth little bounce.

You hardly have the space to catch your breath before he braces a knee on the mattress beside you and leans down for another taste of your lips, kissing you slow and loving and skating a palm down your front. He slips his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, slipping his fingertips across your clit and making you yelp. Chuckling into your mouth, he dips his fingers lower and gasps.

“God,” he sighs. “Shoulda known you were holding out on me.” He sinks his middle finger into your clingy depths while he catches your mouth under his one more time. You’ve been unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, pinned sensuously under his touch, but as he curls his fingers against the restrictive insides of your leggings, you whine deep and slow into his mouth, arching your back to push your hips into his touch.

He doesn’t linger, drawing his hand from you and curling it in the waistband of your leggings instead. You’re slipping your fingers under the hem of your soiled tank top, pulling it up to expose the bare swell of your breasts.

“Let me?” He poses it like a question, pulling your leggings and underwear down and fluttering a kiss to the newly exposed skin below your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, already planting your feet in the fluffy sheets to lift your hips and help him undress you.

He pulls your leggings and underwear down over your hips in one smooth motion, pulling just a little harder than necessary to make you gasp and giggle. Your ass lands on the mattress all at once, punctuated by another handful of mirth that you can’t keep contained.

Bo’s grinning down at you as he balls up your clothes and tosses them toward the hamper like a mid-court basket shot. He doesn’t wait to find out if they made it, though, settling himself between your knees and gathering your hips into his arms.

“So soft,” he purrs, kissing the velvet skin of your tummy.

“Bo,” you whine. It’s your turn in the hot seat, and now the idea of teasing isn’t half as appealing as it was when you were on your knees.

“What? You don’t want me to take my time with you?”

You groan, letting your head flop back against the pillows as your eyes slip shut. Now that he’s got you bare, with his breath puffing hot and wanting over your tender skin, it’s hard to focus on anything but what you want.

“Don’t be mean,” you whine, but the hot press of his tongue on your inner thigh shuts you up fast. He moans low and rumbly against the damp of your skin, sinking his teeth gently into the fat of your thigh and giving a noisy suck.

“You’re so ready for it,” he muses, eyes darting sideways to admire your weeping slit. The buzz of his voice shoots right down the column of your spine, vibrating pleasantly at the base of your tailbone and sending goosebumps racing up your torso.

“Man,” Bo sighs, planting one hand on each thigh and pushing them apart. “You must really like suckin’ me off, huh?”

“I swear,” you grit. “I’m never touching your dick again if you don’t-“

He doesn’t waste another minute, leaning down and sealing his mouth greedily over your slit. The payoff is there for both of you, if the sound he makes when he dips his tongue between your folds is anything to go by.

The relief comes on swift wings as soon as he lets his tongue wander, stoking the fire that had been burning dangerously low and hot in your gut. Your thighs twitch in toward his ears while he tastes your messy slit, but his palms are as strong as shackles, keeping you open and vulnerable for him.

Bo prods his tongue forward, pressing inward as far as he can with a tiny little strained groan of effort. You cry out and clamp down around his tongue like a vice, a reaction he feels so vividly it makes him whip back from your body with a laugh.

“Don’t stopppp,” you plead, but his face is already disappearing between your thighs again, and you wrap your fingers in the hem of your tank top while he re-focuses his efforts on your swollen clit. He’s pressing his hips forward in a slow tempo that matches the patterns he tongues between your thighs, softly humping the mattress in time with your pleasure.

You’re sensitive and ready for him, stomach tightening smoothly when he settles into a rhythm. His technique is sloppy but he makes up for it in eagerness, pausing only to take deep breaths through his nose. He smiles into your skin and you can feel the way his mouth twitches against you, making you arch your back and slide one hand between your legs to rake through the silvery strands of his mussed hair. He grunts hard against your clit and you jump, giving him the chance to slip his hands under your thighs and hook them over his shoulders.

When he swallows you down this time, there’s something in the changed angle that drives pleasure straight down your back, letting it reverberate all the way into your toes. You flinch hard between his hands, and as he settles back into his messy, enthusiastic rhythm, you feel the telltale twinges of your building climax.

“Bo-“ you choke on his name.

He flicks his gaze to yours and his eyes flash, bright and golden. He knows your tells, too, and he sinks his fingers into the fat of your thighs, re-doubling his efforts and sucking a languid rhythm into your needy clit.

“Fuck,” you sputter. “Fuck, f-fuck, I-ah-“

Your mouth drops open, but the scream dies in your throat as white-hot pleasure bursts through your veins. Bokuto is heartbreakingly persistent, keeping up his ministrations while you claw at his hair and clamp your thighs down around his temples and ride the waves of your orgasm as gracefully as possible. By the time the sharp, burning pleasure’s raked its way through you, all your limbs have gone tense, and when it’s over you collapse, sweat-soaked, to the sheets beneath you.

Bo’s trembling between your legs, and when he surfaces his cheeks and ears are maroon. His cock is still twitching against his belly, bobbing as he gets onto his knees and still weeping long streams of spend.

“Oh.” The word flies from your throat before you can trap it, and he rubs your thighs soothingly with both hands as he takes a shaky, cleansing breath.

“You’re so-“ he starts to say, but you reach for him and he’s got no choice but to dip his cheek into your palm, flushing even deeper at the open way you stare.

“C’mere,” you prompt. Bo takes the bait and flops forward, landing stomach-first on the bed beside you and pillowing his head between your slick breasts. The position ought to be comical, but the weight of him is immensely soothing, rising and falling with the even pulse of your laboured breath.

You lie that way for a long while, staring vacantly past your reflection in the dark window beside your bed. The nighttime chill radiates through the glass, cooling your heated flesh. Your body aches with the fresh sensations of climax, but you’re not ready to put your clothes on yet.

“Bo.”

“Hmm?” It never occurred to you that he might be half-asleep until he winds himself upright, blinking weighty silver lashes against his still-blushing cheeks.

Still, you know how to wake him up. The conspiratory grin that touches your mouth is completely involuntary, and it’s enough to have Bokuto cocking a tired brow.

“Can I ride your cock?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything at all. His eyes grow slowly bigger, focus drifting away from your face as his jaw drops. Literally.

“Bo? Baby?”

“Y- b- I… h-“ he sputters, blinking hard and shaking out his sweaty hair. He looks up at you again with an expression unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Like a kid at the zoo.

“Right now?”

You can’t hold back a snort, shoulders pitching forward. But he’s not kidding.

Neither are you.

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that a yes?”

By the time he rolls over, his cock’s already half-hard again, swelling against the strong cord of his right thigh. He sits up, scooting himself comfortably back against your bed’s stacked pillows. And when he reaches for you, you’re already rooting through the nightstand for supplies.

Bo’s a big dude, in every conceivable way. And while he’s never exactly been shy about that fact, he’s also painfully aware of the fact that with great power comes great responsibility. So when you start to warm a dollop of chilly water-based lube between your fingers, he doesn’t flinch.

“Mmmf.” He pushes his hips into your hands as you wrap them around his shaft, letting him swell into your palms while you slick him up. He’s still tender from before, and when you shift onto your knees your clit’s still tensing with leftover pleasure, but you’re buzzing with want. It hangs thick and heavy in the air between you. You’re unwilling to let it dissipate until you’re both completely satisfied.

By the time you’ve got the lube spread evenly from his base to his tip, Bo’s fully hard for you again, flushed and panting and grabbing at your hips as you scoot forward to straddle him. His impatience should probably bother you, but at this point it’s just endearing.

“Hmm, you’re so close,” you say, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. His mouth drops open as you bring his tip to your ready sex. Your pussy clamps involuntarily around the swell of his weeping head, and you’re panting into each others’ mouths as your hips sink slowly backward. The fill of him presses up into your belly, and you bottom out with a little flinch of discomfort, settling your thighs over his. He’s long enough that it actually hurts to take him in all the way like this, but you’re willing to put up with it for a minute while you get adjusted.

“Look at you.” Bokuto’s eyes rake up and down your trembling form, keeping time with his strong palms that rub soothing circles into the flesh of your hips. You shift a little, making him twitch and grunt. His thighs strain, struggling to keep from bucking upward against your tender cervix.

He lets out a deep, shaky sigh through pursed lips. “You’re so f-fucking perfect, you know that?”

You’re concentrating on tucking your knees underneath you for proper leverage, but he never fails to make you smile.

“I haven’t even started moving yet,” you breathe, bracing one hand on his shoulder. Once you’re stabilized, you lift your hips slowly forward, letting the thickness of him pull slowly from your slick depths. Bokuto’s head falls back against the pillows, beet red with exertion already.

“God,” he groans, bringing one hand around to your ass. “More, baby.”

You swallow hard, grip his hips tightly between your knees, and swirl your hips in a careful, tight little circle. It’s a subtle movement from the outside, but where you’re joined it rubs the thick ridge of his tip along all your tenderest nerve endings, sending powerful surges of pleasure vibrating into your chest.

Bokuto’s feeling it, too, the hard angles of his jaw standing out as he clenches his teeth. His silvery lashes rest heavily over his flushed cheeks, giving you little more than a bare peek of his dark, tawny eyes with the pupils blown wide in ecstasy.

“Just like that,” he prompts when you angle your hips forward, pinning your abused clit against his pubic bone and continuing to grind greedily over his shaft. He interrupts your rhythm with a sharp little pat to your ass, making your hips jump forward and giving him an opening to lower his chin and seal his mouth in the crook of your shoulder.

“Fu-uck,” you whine, looping both arms under his and clutching tightly at his back as your rhythm grows more urgent. You know how to work yourself to the peak easily, using his powerful body and thick cock to your every advantage.

“You’re close already,” he pants in your ear. “Oh, man, I can feel it. Don’t-“ His hips jerk backward, choking him on a surge of pleasure that washes over both of you.

“Don’t hold back for me, baby. I c’n… take it, yeah, that’s it.”

The low rumble of his voice in your ear reverberates all the way down to the pit of your stomach, cocktailing with the pleasure you’re grinding out yourself, and when he grabs your ass with both hands and rocks his tip against the gooey-sweet spot on your upper wall, you’re lost.

“Bo,” you whimper, grabbing tightly at the muscles in his back as your thighs start to shake. “Fuck, oh, fuck, ohfuck-“

The peak crests quietly between you, but quickly bleeds into every limb. You’re powerless to do anything but cling to him and whine in his ear as your hips stutter and twitch and grind over his stirring cock. Just when you think the wave is subsiding, Bokuto glides his hips beneath yours again and draws it out into a tight, near-painful shudder. Your vision whites out, then flashes black as you squeeze your eyes shut and lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Fuck.” Bo’s cursing as you come back to the surface, humping shallowly into your spent body. The lube you used squelches obscenely with the handfuls of slick your climax brought forth, numbing your used insides to his desperate thrusts. “Fuck, you’re so- you’re so- ohgod, inside, I-“

He goes completely incoherent as he finds his own pleasure, shoving his hips tightly against yours. His balls draw tight beneath you, thighs twitching as thick, heady warmth fills your belly. You’re addicted to the fullness he leaves in you without fail, the mess between you when he goes slack and you draw your hips backward to let his falling erection slide out of you.

Your roommate’ll be back from the library at any second. You should be getting up and dressing yourselves, making some attempt at feigning innocence before she comes in. But the bedroom door is closed and it’s far too easy to tumble back into the haphazard embrace from before, cum collecting sticky and hot between your thighs as Bokuto buries his face between your tits.

“D’you think they’ll stretch?” he mumbles into your skin, once your pulse has finally slowed to its regular pace.

“Hmm?” In your pleasure-addled haze, you don’t follow. Bokuto lifts his face from your flesh, resting his chin gently on your sternum.

“My shorts.”

Right.

“Uh-“ You have to purse your lips hard, to keep the dumb smile from showing on them. You take a slow pass of air in through your nose and lift your fingers to comb soothingly through his sweaty hair.

“We’ll make them fit,” you promise. “Somehow.”

Before he buries his face in your chest again, you catch the pure, blissed smile that stretches his cheeks. He slips his eyes shut, nuzzling you tenderly and kissing the swell of one breast.

“Good,” he sighs. And then, bare-assed, sweaty and sticky, he falls asleep.

You spy the shorts, still lying in a crumpled heap by the bathroom door. You make a mental note to check the brand and sizing later, before he leaves.

You’ll make then fit again.

Somehow.

#haikyuu #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #bokuto #koutarou bokuto #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 7) - Take It Slow

Summary: Jensen takes the reader and the kids for a day on the slopes but a minor accident has Jensen nervous about their relationship. As Jensen jumps into filming more, he brings home a little surprise for the reader and kids and decides what he really wants going forward...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, mild injury, intruding rabbits

A/N: Enjoy!

________

“Good morning, munchkins,” you said the next day after an unexpected morning shower with Jensen. He’d gotten dressed and had them ready to go for the day by the time you were even drying off.

“Dad says he has a surprise for us today,” said JJ, slurping up her bowl of cereal.

“Oh really?” you asked.

“Yes really,” he said, setting a bowl of cereal and cup of coffee down at your spot, kissing your cheek. “Even Y/N’s don’t get to know. Now eat up everybody. I want to get on the road by ten.”

You helped put away the dishes in the dishwasher after breakfast, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter.

“What’s the surprise, Jackles?” you asked. He grinned and bopped your nose. “Gonna need another shower later?”

“Oh you liked that?” he smirked, pressing his hands on the counter edge on both sides of you.

“You’re cute with wet hair,” you said.

“Well, since I will need your help a bit with wrangling the three munchkins...I think you’ll just have to find out when we get there,” he chuckled. He kissed your cheek and you groaned. “I’m taking you guys snowboarding today.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah. That or skiing. The kids have a little ski class and I figured maybe you and me could hit the slopes for an hour before we meet back up with them.”

“Uh, I have zero idea of how to ski. Or snowboard.”

“I know. I’m gonna teach you a few basics. Fun? Not fun?” he asked, resting his hands down on your hips.

“I will try my best...and probably end up with a sore butt,” you said.

“I got faith in you. We’ll take it real slow. You’ll get the hang of it real quick.”

“Daddy, I made a snowman,” said Zeppelin when Jensen had finished renting out skis for everyone an hour later.

“I see honey. He looks very nice,” said Jensen. “Alright. Let’s get helmets on and get out there guys.”

Fifteen minutes later Zeppelin was holding onto your hand and leg, absolutely refusing to leave your side.

“Don’t you want to go play with your sisters?” you asked. He shook his head and Jensen sighed. “Why don’t I stay with the kids for the hour and you can get some actual going down the mountain in? I’m sure I can pick up whatever I need to learn watching them.”

“Are you sure?” asked Jensen. “I don’t mean to ditch and run.”

“I want to hang with Zepp anyways,” you said while you looked down. “What do you think? Sound good to you?”

He nodded and you glanced back at Jensen.

“You’re gonna have more fun not dragging me around anyways. We’ll see you in one hour, okay?” you asked. You kissed his cheek and smiled. “You can still teach me later, okay?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you guys real soon.”

“JJ you’re a natural!” beamed Jensen when you met back up with him. She was very good and the twins...well you gave up on them after a bit and simply let them run around the snow chasing one another.

“Hey!” someone up the hill shouted. You spun around and saw some guy on a snowboard barreling straight for where the twins were sat near the edge of the slope. You jumped in front of them, the guy slamming straight into you but thankfully you were both able to go off to the right of them. You tumbled together for a minute before he slid away a few feet groaning.

“Ow,” you said, rolling to your back and staring up at the sky.

“You okay?” asked the guy with a grunt.

“I think so. You?” you breathed out.

“Same.” He made some kind of unclicking sound and then he crawled over, looking down at you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t really learn the stop part yet.”

“Y/N, honey,” said Jensen, suddenly kneeling down beside you. “Are you hurt?”

“Feel like I got hit by a train,” you said, trying to sit up. You hissed and lay back down, hearing a pair of ski’s stop nearby. “My back hurts.”

“What’s your name?” asked a guy in a bright red coat with a backpack on as he stopped at you on the ground.

“Y/N,” you said.

“Unit two, possible back injury on southwest side of hill slope. Need the backboard,” said the guy into a radio before he was talking to the other man.

“Daddy,” said Arrow, tugging on Jensen’s sleeve. She had tears in her eyes and you gave her a smile.

“I’m fine, sweetie. Just fell down too hard. Daddy’s gonna keep playing with you guys for a few more minutes,” you said.

“Y/N,” he said quietly.

“They’re scared,” you whispered. “Go. I think my back is just scraped up, I promise. Go on. Meet up with me wherever they take me in a few minutes.”

“She’ll be at the medical station,” said the paramedic. Jensen shot the guy that’d slammed into you a dirty look but he went back over to the kids and you gave them a wave. “Can you describe your back pain?”

“It’s sore. I can move. It’s more like it just hurts, kinda dull like,” you said.

“Alright. We’ll get you taken care of.”

Thirty Minutes Later

“Hey,” said Jensen as you struggled to pull your thermal leggings back up. “Let me help.”

“Thanks,” you said, holding his shoulders as he hiked them up your legs.

“The kids could have gotten really hurt if you hadn’t jumped in like that,” he said, pulling them up over your hips. His hand grazed over the hot pack stuck on your skin and you nodded. “You okay?”

“It’s just a few bad bruises. The other guy broke his nose.”

“I could have broke his nose,” he said, tugging your hoodie down over you.

“It was an accident,” you said. “Kids okay?”

“They got a little upset for a second but they’re fine. They want to be with you though and I’m inclined to cut today short,” he said.

“Counter offer,” you said, sitting down on the bed and glancing at your boots. He knelt down and tugged one up, zipping it up before doing the other. “We grab lunch and go sledding on the kiddie hill afterwards.”

“We’ll get lunch and then go home,” he said, folding up your snow pants.

“Come on. I’m-”

“You’re hurt. You got bruises all over and sledding’s just gonna hurt you.”

“Jensen,” you said, standing and picking up your coat. “Take a deep breath.”

“I’m-”

“Jensen.” He frowned but did it, cocking his head at you. “Again.”

He did it a few times, looking down when he’d finished. You rubbed his arm and he nodded.

“I’m okay. Not going anywhere,” you said.

“He hit you so fucking hard.”

“I know but I’m tougher than I look. Buy me some hot chocolate, make me feel better,” you said.

“You didn’t hesitate to step in you know.”

“Well there wasn’t really time to pick them up or move them. I figured tackling the guy off to the side was the best bet.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“I know it’s not. But it’s not a big deal and I think we should come back next weekend so you and JJ can ski and me and the twins will go sledding. Deal?”

“Okay.”

“Maybe we can make a snowman when we get home.” You shrugged back into your jacket, Jensen fixing your hair. He zipped you up and took another deep breath, resting his hands on your shoulders. “It’s okay if you got scared. It’s nice knowing you care.”

“I don’t know if I’d survive two horrible…” he said.

“Yes you would. You have three very important reasons to.”

“You didn’t see the shit show I was before you.”

“Somehow you survived that without me. You could survive it without me again too,” you said.

“Yeah well, I don’t want to.” You smiled softly and he rested his forehead against your own.

“Well let’s plan on us having relatively boring normal lives then where we die of extremely old age in our sleep,” you said. “Sound like a plan?”

“I’d be okay with that,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Let’s go enjoy the rest of our day, okay?”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

“Ah shit,” you said that night in your bathroom as you put on your pajamas after a shower. You were covered in dark purple bruises all over your back, legs and arms. Jensen had turned around throughout the day and seemed to have forgotten about the incident on the slope. It’d set him on edge which you couldn’t blame the poor guy for but you just knew if he got one look at you he’d start to worry again.

“Y/N,” said Jensen through the door. “Got a minute?”

“Just a second.” You looked around and grabbed the robe you never used off the back of the door and tied it around your waist. You tugged up your sweatpants and hummed. “Come in.”

“Hey,” he said, giving you a smile in the mirror as you started to comb your hair. “I’m gonna have to ditch on the movie. Work just called and my night shoot for later in the week got pushed cause of the storm they’re expecting.”

“Oh. When do you go in?”

“About twenty minutes,” he said.

“Don’t you need sleep?” you asked. He shrugged and you cocked your head.

“I’ll sleep on my lunch break. You mind getting the three of them down for bed tonight?”

“Not at all. Remember to pack your long john’s. It’s not warm and neither is your suit,” you said.

“The perils of playing a superhero,” he chuckled. You smiled and combed your hair, the sleeve of your robe falling down your leg and exposing a bruised arm. “Can I see?”

“It’s one little bruise,” you said, holding your arm up to him.

“Can I see?” he asked again. You sighed and undid your robe, sliding it off your shoulders. He frowned when he saw your chest and back but only nodded. “Take some pain medicine before bed. There’s some of those heat packs in the kitchen too if you want some.”

“I will,” you said. You put on your pajama shirt and he went to leave, leaving his hand on the doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Aspercreme helps. Worked for me after the accident,” he said.

“Thanks. Text me when you’re on your way home?” you asked.

“Can do,” he said. He tapped his fingers on the frame before swinging around it and leaving. You picked up your brush and went back to brushing, Jensen popping back around the corner. Your gaze found his in the mirror and he glanced down. “Y/N. This is gonna come across a certain way and I hope…”

“We can slow it down, Jensen. I know today brought up some stuff for you.”

“I do care about you,” he said as he walked over. You turned to face him, Jensen taking your arm and running his thumb gently over the bruised skin. “I don’t necessarily think we’re going too fast either. But today kinda fucked me up a bit and I gotta deal with that shit before I keep going with this. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you.”

“Are we taking a break?” you asked, his head immediately shaking.

“No, no. I just...want to keep the status quo for a bit? Sleep in our own rooms, have a date night on Saturdays. Keep things...the same. Normally I know that’s the death of a relationship but-”

“Jensen you know last night when we were playing around and I told you that we could stop whenever you needed to?”

“I don’t want to stop though. I just-”

“Jensen. I’m saying don’t worry about it. This isn’t the death of our relationship. You are feeling a lot of shit right now and so am I. You’re starting to get into filming everyday and I know that’s gonna be long days and when you’re home your focus is gonna be on the kids and I’m just saying it’s okay if this steps off the gas for a second. Just come back eventually okay?”

“Why are you so understanding?”

“Why would I make this hard for you?” you asked.

“Don’t you want things out of this though?”

“Of course I want things. But hurting you in the process to get there isn’t worth it. I’m not gonna hurt you just so I can hit some stupid milestone that people say you should do by x point in time. Fuck that. When you’re ready to progress a bit again, I trust you’ll tell me. Okay?”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. He kissed you slowly and nodded. “I’ll try not to take too long. I promise.”

“I am going to ask for one thing though.”

“Anything.”

“Call up that doctor you saw. Talk to him about how you’re feeling. Don’t go through whatever’s going on in that head of yours alone.”

“I will. I promise. I still want to be your boyfriend, Y/N.”

“I know and you can be. We’ll go slow,” you said. “Now go get ready for work and kiss the kids goodbye. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay.” He slid his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in close, planting a deep kiss on you. You stared at him as he broke away and smiled. “See you later honey.”

“Later Jensen. Call if you need anything.”

“I will. Promise.”

Two Weeks Later

“Hi,” hummed Jensen as he knocked on the edge of your doorframe late one night. You were sat on bed with your laptop typing away.

“Hello,” you said, biting your bottom lip as you backed up what you’d written.

“What ya doing?” he hummed again.

“Um, working on another Fox Foxington story,” you said.

“Must be pretty invested considering you haven’t looked at me once,” he said, a big ass smirk in his voice. You glanced up and he was grinning hard, your jaw dropping.

“Oh my God.” You pushed the laptop aside and hopped out of bed, bouncing up and down on your toes. “You’re suit looks fucking awesome! They let you bring it home?”

“I’m on my lunch break. We’re filming ten minutes from here. I thought someone might like to see it in person.”

“This is so cool,” you said, reaching out a hand but pausing. “Can I touch it?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head. “Feels weird right?”

“Yeah. I bet this thing isn’t comfortable to wear all day,” you said.

“Hardest part is the bathroom,” he said as you inspected him. “I’m not in it all day though.”

“Is that a spoiler?” you asked.

“Is it?” he teased. “Kids in bed yet?”

“Yeah but wake ‘em up. Dad looks freaking awesome right now,” you said.

“You sure?”

“Yup,” you said. You went back to your nightstand and grabbed your phone. “Come on, picture time.”

Ten minutes later and one sprinting out the front door Jensen later you had the kids back in bed and went back to work on your story. You worked for a few minutes when a flashing on the wall caught your attention. You narrowed your eyes at the box by your door, figuring the HVAC system was messing up again.

You got up and stared at it for a moment before you realized what the little flashing light was for. Your phone rang in your hand and you quickly answered.

“Y/N, I got a text saying the motion alarm got tripped,” said Jensen. “Did you-”

You heard a thud downstairs and opened the door.

“Someone’s downstairs,” you whispered.

“Turn around,” you heard Jensen say to the driver. You snuck out of the room and down the hall past the kids rooms. You peered over the balcony and laughed. “Y/N?”

“Uh, I know who our intruder is,” you laughed. “Um, you didn’t happen to leave the front door open when you came in earlier, did you?”

“Maybe,” he said as you heard a car out front. “What-”

“There’s a big ass rabbit sitting in the foyer,” you said, watching it hop over to the boot tray and start gnawing on Jensen’s sneaker. “I hope you aren’t partial to those blue sneakers.”

“What the…” he said as you watched the front door open. You hung up and Jensen stared at the rabbit, the rabbit taking a beat before it went back to chewing his shoelaces. “No! Stop! Bad bunny! This isn’t your house, go home.”

“Oh I need to film this,” you said. You started to record him as he opened the door and pointed outside.

“Go home bunny,” he said. The bunny apparently took that as an invitation to hop further into the house, Jensen groaning. You giggled and went downstairs, following them into the kitchen where the rabbit decided to hide under the counter stools. “Bunny please go home? I’m gonna be late getting back to work.”

The bunny hopped over to him before dashing away to the other side of the kitchen.

“Wait,” he said. He went to the fridge and grabbed a bag of baby carrots. He pulled one out and sat it on the ground by his feet. “Come on little guy. Come on…”

“Here we see Soldier Boy attempting to remove a little bunny rabbit from his home. Will he succeed or will he be late for work and have to explain this strange incident to his boss? Tune in to find out,” you said. Jensen stood up and shot you a bitch face.

“You gonna narrate too?” he said.

“Maybe,” you laughed, taking the carrot off the floor. “Come on Mr. Bunny. I’ll give you the bag of ‘em if you head outside. It’s getting late. You ought to be home with your family, buddy.”

He hopped over and you knelt down, holding it out to him. He took a nibble and Jensen bent over, picking him up gently.

“You’re cute and all but no bunnies allowed inside,” he said. He set him down outside and dumped out the bag of carrots by the front door. “Okay? Maybe you can get some more of those if you don’t break in again.”

The rabbit took a carrot in it’s mouth and ran off to the hedge before it came back and grabbed another.

“Ah Soldier Boy saves the day again,” you giggled. He made a superhero pose before laughing and you turned off the video. “Go on cutie. Don’t catch cold either. Wouldn’t want you sick for your birthday.”

“Is it...is it my birthday?” he teased. “Oh I seem to have completely have forgotten about it.”

“I wish you didn’t have work all day.”

“Eh, I’m used to it,” he said.

“Um, since you have a long day and stuff...can I take you out Thursday? I know you’re off Friday.”

“Yeah. I’d love that,” he said.

“Your birthday present is on your bed when you get home later,” you said.

“Looking forward to it. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Later Jensen.”

It was after dinner the next night, Jensen only getting home around lunch after an incredibly long day, when a pair of arms wrapped around you. You spun around and a very tired Jensen was hugging you tightly.

“Hey. I thought you were heading to bed finally,” you said.

“I was. I opened your present. Thank you.”

“S’just a present,” you said. He shook his head and you smiled. “I know. It’s your first one without her.”

“No that’s not it. Yesterday I was a little off because of it but...you got me socks. She always got me socks for my birthday. It was a joke between us but you didn’t know that and you still got me socks somehow.”

“Jensen it’s just a pair of socks.”

“I know. I’m not the kind of person that takes things as signs and stuff but maybe somehow, she was telling me something, like it’s okay to move on with you.”

“Maybe,” you said. You’d honestly only bought them because he couldn’t wear winter boots while he was filming and you knew his feet got cold. But if he wanted to take it that way you weren’t going to stop him.

“Can we pick things up again? You’ve been taking a backseat the past few weeks and I know what I want and what I’m ready for.”

“What are you ready for?”

“You’re gonna get hurt sometimes and I can’t stop it. I can only be there after the fact and I’m okay with getting hurt in that way. It’s the price I gotta pay and I’ll pay it eventually but I’m okay with that. I want to be with my best friend again if she’ll have me back.”

“Always,” you said. “I don’t need a date every night to make me happy.”

“I know. Would you sleep in my bed tonight though?” he asked. “I missed your cuddles.”

“Sure. I’ll be up in a little while. You get some sleep. You have to be exhausted,” you said.

“I am. But tomorrow and Thursday should be shorter days,” he said. “On a positive note, it sounds like filming is going faster than expected so there’s a possibility we can all get back home sooner than we thought.”

“Not that I mind the snow but I know the kids wouldn’t mind seeing their friends again,” you said. “Go get some sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow when you’re more conscious, alright?”

“Yes mam,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and went upstairs, JJ wandering over from where she’d been coloring.

“JJ, why’d you tell me your dad likes getting socks on his birthday?” you asked.

“I don’t know. He just does,” she said. You ruffled her hair and smiled. “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s play a board game before bed, see if we can get the twins to pay attention this time.”

________

A/N: Read Part 8 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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