#i can neither talk about this nor think about it. the CHIN. THE DARTING BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN THEM AND THEN FOCUSING ON MARC. STOP!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chuulyssa · 3 months

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kidnapped. (mello)

↷ A/N ─ my first time writing actual smut please give constructive criticism or i'll cry bye. just to confirm btw this is NOT rape/non-con. the reader consents. thank you.

★ COUNT ─ 2.5k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader, kidnapping, yandere!mello, smut, dry-humping, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, praise kink, nicknames (good girl, pretty boy, etc.), floor-fucking, a little cockwarming at the end

★ PROLOGUE ─ your ex kidnaps you because you are a useful asset to kira. or does he have a different reason?

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

You struggled against the tight ropes that bound you. Your mouth was covered with a thick layer of duct tape, your eyes blindfolded so you were enveloped in darkness. Your back hurt, and you realized you had been tied to a chair all along.

Suddenly, you felt the blindfold gently untie itself from around your hair, and you opened your eyes meekly. It took a while for them to adjust themselves to the brightness of the place. You surveyed the room cautiously. The details gradually came into focus, revealing a dimly lit, unfamiliar space with bare walls and a single, flickering light bulb overhead. The air was heavy with an unsettling silence, broken only by distant, muffled sounds of breathing from behind you.

You strained against the ropes again, trying to free yourself from the chair, but to no avail. You panicked, trying to recall how you ended up here. But your memories were hazy, and you couldn't think of anything, especially with the sharp pains of your aching head.

The person behind you moved into your line of sight. With a quick motion, they removed the duct tape from your mouth, causing you to wince at the uncomfortable tingling sensation.

"Easy there," a familiar voice said.

You had heard this person speak before. But where? Your mind ran through all the voices you had ever heard in your entire lifetime - your parents, your teachers, Kira. You blinked slowly, your eyes beginning to register your vision. With a jolt, you realized who the person in front of you was.

"Mello?" you said in disbelief, your voice hoarse from not speaking for a long time.

"Quiet, honey," he whispered and crouched down to be at eye-level with you, his expression revealing neither malice nor sympathy.

"Why am I here?" you demanded. The throbbing pain in your head intensified from this new revelation, your eyes darting around to check for any possible escape routes - doors, windows, anything.

"Who is Kira?" Mello caressed your lips, soothing the tingling left by the duct tape.

"Kira?" you blinked. "I don't know. I'm in the Task Fo-"

"Shut up."

Mello's harsh command silenced you, and you felt a surge of fear. His grip on your chin tightened, his eyes narrowing as if reading your mind, boring into your soul.

"Listen, here, sweet pea," he said coldly, "we just need you to confess that Light Yagami is Kira. Then you will be fine."

"Light Yagami?" you tried not to show the panic you felt on your face. "The chief's son?"

"Y/N, please," Mello said sternly, getting up to pace around the room, circling you. "I know you're connected to Kira. I know Light Yagami is Kira. You have been helping Kira and you cannot fool me."

"I need information," he continued, stopping in front of you once more. "And you're going to give it to me. One way or another."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you insisted, your voice shaky. "I'm not connected to Kira. I'm a part of the Task Force, and I'm doing all I can to stop him!"

Mello scoffed. "Save the lies for someone who might believe them. I've been tracking Kira for a while, and your involvement doesn't go unnoticed."

"I can't give you information I don't have," you pleaded, desperation creeping into your voice. "I'm innocent, Mello. Please, let me go."

"'Please, let me go'?" he repeated mockingly. "'I'm innocent'? Do you know who you're trying to lie to right now?"

"Please, Mello, I'll do anything. Let me go," you begged him.

"Anything?" Mello bent down to you once more. "Anything?"

"Yes, Mello, anything."

"Strip."

You stared. What?

"Strip?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper, hoping against hope that you had misheard him.

Mello's expression remained impassive, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your skin crawl.

"You heard me," he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Strip."

He leaned forward and tore the ropes with a pocketknife, starting with your legs and then moving to your hands.

"Mello-"

"Y/N. I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong," he sighed. "I just don't want hidden trackers exposing your location."

His expression softened slightly, and he seemed more... human. But it was quickly replaced by an unfathomable expression once more, looking at you with expectancy.

You rubbed your now free wrists, still sore from the tight bindings, and looked at Mello with a mixture of gratitude and unease.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I... I thought-."

"Strip, Y/N. I don't have all day."

Mello's insistence snapped you back to reality. Despite his explanation, his order made you feel uncomfortable. But you knew that compliance was your best chance at survival right now.

With trembling hands, you unbuttoned your blouse, slowly, as if hoping Mello would ask you to stop. You removed the blouse, and moved on to your jeans, unzipping them and pulling them down, letting them fall to the floor. Now you were left in your bra and panties, and he stiffened at the sight but did not look away.

You moved to your bra, unhooking it, suddenly feeling a bit confident as you maintained eye contact with your ex-boyfriend. You sensually let it hang around your breasts, before pulling it down completely. Similarly, you raised your hips a little to take your panties off, gliding them off your legs and near Mello.

Mello, on the other hand, grew increasingly nervous. He was still looking directly into your eyes as if daring you to make him look at your exposed chest and pussy.

"There you go," you said. "You can check all you want."

Mello nodded, his nervousness dissolving as he adamantly checked your clothes, finding nothing there. You, however, smirked a little to yourself. When Mello finished checking your clothes, he turned to you, but you surprised him by putting your bare feet on his growing bulge, rubbing it up and down slowly.

"Still so hard for me, Mihael Keehl?" you cooed.

"No, shut-" he began, but was immediately cut off by a kiss.

He was still sitting on the floor in front of you, his mind and body going numb from the pressure on his lips. You leaned in more, your legs giving in (from their lack of use), making you fall on his lap, your pussy sitting directly on his hard crotch.

You rubbed yourself against his crotch as you continued the kiss, pussy getting wet imagining how long his dick would be by now. Mello all of a sudden seemed to have woken up from a slumber, and he showed this by kissing you back as roughly as he could.

"Gosh, Y/N. I - fucking - missed you - so much," he said between sloppy kisses, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying you down on the floor as gently as he could. He increased the pace of his dick and your pussy rubbing, groaning as he unbuckled his belt and pull both his pants and boxers down in one go.

His dick sprang out and you immediately got up to give it a little kiss, making him shudder. You slowly shoved him backwards so he lay down, giving you easy access to his dick. You looked down at him. So vulnerable. So needy. So long and hard. Just for you.

You bent down and licked the tip of his dick, his hips springing upward, begging for more. You forced him to continue lying down, teasing him with small licks and kisses at the tip.

"Y/N, please," he groaned. "It's hurting, please."

"So good at begging, aren't you?" You sucked on his dick and he moaned in pleasure.

"Ah, Y/N, fuck, yes."

You sucked and licked his dick, top to bottom, your tongue working as you kept circling it. Your head bobbed on his dick, and your pleasure lay in his continuous moaning. Your hand pumped his dick a few times, soon replaced by your tongue, and you continued the process over and over.

"Y/N, yes, yes, fuck, I'm going to come."

"Do it," you moved your hand faster. "Come for me, pretty boy."

"Oh god, yes, shit, shit," he cursed, soon coming inside your mouth, and you swallowed it, winking at him lightly as he lay on the floor panting, taking more than a few moments to catch his breath.

"My turn," he smirked finally and pushed you down on the floor harshly, a hand behind your head to protect it from injuries.

He kissed your neck, dragging his tongue along your collarbones, then latching onto the hard nipple of your right breast, massaging the other one with a free hand, and soon switching breasts. He continued licking, pinching and kneading your breasts, a few sinful sounds escaping your mouth before he started moving downwards, leaving feathery kisses along the way.

Your breath hitched when you felt the kisses sliding from your inner thighs to your pussy, your hands ready to push his head in further in case he tried to tease you as you did to him. Your fingers groped his hair gently in soft motions, caressing his head and waiting.

He was so close to your pussy, his breath hot against your clit. You closed your eyes in anticipation, waiting for him to eat you out. However, he continued to smirk against your entrance, not moving at all.

"Mello, please," you begged, your voice a little shaky from the earlier blowjob.

"Please what?" He asked, his voice low and husky. You groaned and tried to shove his head in your pussy, but he didn't budge.

"Please, Mello," you whimpered. "Touch me. Please, touch me."

His smirk became wider in response, and he proceeded to give one long stroke of a lick against your clit. You arched your back in surprise and he pushed you down harshly, chuckling and licking you again. His tongue circled your clit before he sucked it into his mouth.

"So wet for me. Such a good girl," he moaned against your skin.

You moaned with pleasure, smiling a little at the praise. He sure knew how to keep you happy even after you two broke up.

Mello continued to lick and suck your clit, suddenly sliding his fingers into you. This caught you by surprise, and both your hands reached out to hold onto his biceps, clinging onto him for dear life while he fucked you with his fingers.

"Good girl, moan for me now, go on," he groaned and licked you again, his fingers moving in and out of you as he sucked on your clit.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Mello, yes," you cried out, releasing your built-up orgasm and letting it hit you hard with a wave of pleasure.

He continued to overstimulate you, and you felt as if you were gonna pass out with pleasure. His fingers continued pulsing in and out of your tight little pussy, and you felt your inevitable second orgasm approaching quick.

"Mello, shit I'm coming again," you whined, your body shaking as you released all over his fingers again.

Mello's smirk grew, if possible, even wider. He finally removed his fingers from inside of you and licked them, maintaining a seductive eye contact with you all the while. His tongue lapped at your pussy, cleaning up your juices.

"So tasty. All mine."

He kissed your thighs and looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust. You reached out to touch his hair, but he moved away.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said and pumped his hard dick a few times, looking down at you.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he growled, and you gave a tiny, "Yes, please," in response as he pulled your legs apart with his right knee and lined his dick up with your pussy.

You closed your eyes yet again, biting your lip. Even throughout your relationship, whenever the two of you had sex, you wondered if his long, thick cock would even fit inside your tiny pussy.

Mello seemed to have read your mind, for he gave your thigh a little tap as reassurance before pushing into you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You gave a loud cry at the pain, which transformed into a strangled moan as glee filled your body. He pulled out, eyes on yours as if asking if you were okay with this. You nodded slowly, and he wasted no time in thrusting inside again and pulling out in a rhythm, his hands on your hips. He picked up the pace steadily and began moving in and out of you at a rapid speed, fucking you hard.

"Fuck you, Y/N, you're so tight," he growled, arms reaching out to hug you while his hips did the work. Your screams were loud and clear, and while you were probably at the Mafia's base right now, you were sure that none of Mello's men would dare to enter the room.

He grunted, his hips slamming into you, fucking you harder and harder. His dick repeatedly hit your cervix with every thrust, and you felt yourself melt under the satisfaction he made you feel. For god's sake, why did you leave him in the first place? You couldn't remember. Not right now. All that mattered at this moment was his fast and inhumane speed of thrusting and your strangled moans.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he grunted, his hips slamming into you.

You nodded furiously, letting him know he could come inside you any time of the day. Mello groaned loudly and released his cum inside your pussy, still, however, continuing to thrust in it in anticipation of your third orgasm. He continued to fuck you relentlessly, his dick pounding into you as he groaned and moaned himself.

"Mello, no! Shit, I'm gonna come again," you shouted out as you felt your third orgasm in less than an hour advance faster.

"Come, darling," he snarled. "Come all over this dick. Claim this dick, Y/N L/N."

You yelled out as you came once more, your body shaking as he continued to fuck you. He groaned and slowed down his thrusts, his dick still hard inside of you.

"Oh, god, you were so fucking good," he said, collapsing on top of you. "I trained this pussy well, didn't I?"

You gave a breathless chuckle in response, while he continued to keep his dick inside you still, not wanting to let go of the warm sensation of your pussy yet. He kissed your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.

"I still love you, you know that?" he whispered, his voice low and husky.

You smiled slightly, holding onto his muscly back as he lay on top of you with his head in the crook of your neck. You ran a hand through his soft, blonde hair.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice soft and gentle.

He blinked in surprise and his face broke into a smile.

"I should've known. Floor-fucking was always your thing."

#mello #mello death note #mello 2024 #mihael keehl #death note x y/n #death note x reader #death note smut #death note x you #death note #mello dn #mello x reader #mello x y/n #mello x you #smut #mello smut

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constesplanetarium · 9 months

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☼⚠︎Yandere Bartender x GN!Reader Oneshot

Darkness rating ) 5/10 : “Do you need a bandaid?”

Neither the bartender nor the reader have any specific appearance, so you can imagine them however you’d like. ^^

The only thing I specified is that the bartender's name is Marcus (potential new oc, you might see him around more often :) If I do write him more, expect his character to change here and there (maybe he’ll be a little less crazy than this one shot of him) ^^

I might edit it a bit to fix up some things here and there, but for now, enjoy :)

THERE’S ANOTHER PART TO THIS!!! consider this part his current version :)

you can read it here!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS (Spoilers)!!!

Blood/Blood being unknowingly consumed.

In the bonus portion, there are mentions of stalking, needles/syringes, and general obsession around the end of the one-shot. Also a light smut mention near the end :)

Word count: Around 4k words (I got carried away lolz)

Soft jazz music fills every empty part of your head as you step into the dimmed bar. The bar has a certain warm, cabin like vibe that makes a fuzzy feeling spread throughout your whole body, alongside the delicate musk of alcohol, whether it be tequila or vodka. Luckily for you, there are only two people at the bar stools, both sitting on opposite sides, so you get to fit yourself snugly in the middle, away from everyone else. In the middle of the bar table, a man is slowly cleaning an empty glass with a rag, looking extremely bored with his life. He’s obviously not busy, so maybe he can serve you a drink or two.

You walk up to the bar stools, and he immediately looks up at you making your way over, setting his glass down with a small clink. He throws the rag aside and rests his hands on the table as you sit up on the stool.

“Hey, you’re coming in a little late, huh?” He taps his fingers on the watch set on his wrist, and you suddenly feel a bit insecure sitting on that stool. It was a bit late, about 11:37 PM. “No, It’s alright, I’ll still serve you. What can I get you?” He gives you a soft smile, bending down and resting his hand on his cheek as he stares into your eyes. A soft twinge of embarrassment fills your body, as you get a good look at him up close. This guy is pretty good-looking. He gazes at you for a couple of seconds until he snaps out of it, his eyes darting away for a moment. “Sorry.” He laughs and looks back at you. “I’m a bit tired, it’s been a long shift. You can call me Marcus.” He stands back up and taps the gold nameplate on his chest, reading out his name in black text and a fancy, cursive font.

… Marcus?

“... Oh! Yeah! You’re in one of my classes aren’t you?!” His face practically lights up and he shakes his hands around in excitement. “Thank god, someone to talk to here!”

He sits around the back of your class, always tending to be more quiet than everyone else. You’ve only talked with him once or twice during a group project, and even then, it wasn’t really a conversation. You've never seen him with anyone else around campus either, but at the same time, you rarely see him around at all. No wonder you didn't recognize who he was at first.

“Oh right, obviously you’re here to order something. Duh.” He goes cross-eyed and bumps his head mockingly, afterward looking back at you. “What can I get you?”

You’re still quiet for a few seconds, and then he raises a brow at you. “... You don’t know what to get, do you?”

No. No, you don’t.

“That’s fine. I’m indecisive too.” He sends a small wink your way, small shivers rising up your spine. It’s more embarrassment than fear. You aren’t exactly dressed to impress at the moment. “How about a suggestion? I know some good drinks since, well, I work here.”

You nod your head eagerly, not wanting to take up too much of his time. It’s not like anyone's waiting for him, though.

He grins at your acceptance of his offer, and he rubs his chin a little, taking small glances at the environment around you two. You assume he’s thinking about what drink to serve you, and suddenly, he clasps his hands together.

“How about a bloody mary?”

You’re not a hard drinker, per se, but you know enough to understand what a bloody mary is. It’s that one drink with vodka, tomato juice, and lemon juice, isn’t it?

… Isn’t there hot sauce in that drink?

You raise your brow at his suggestion. A bloody mary? You weren’t really in the mood to drink anything too heavy, nor anything with vodka and hot sauce poured in it. He could see your hesitation and laughed it off with a smile.

“No blood mary, huh?” He rubs his neck and looks up at the ceiling, apparently thinking of another drink to make you. His eyes suddenly flicker back to yours. “How about a shirley temple? It’s non-alcoholic if alcohol is what you’re worrying about in the first place.”

Your head tilts at the drink suggestion. You’ve never been to too many bars, and each time you’ve gone, all you’ve gotten is a glass of water or a bit of soda. He senses your confusion and drums his fingers on the table.

“It’s a mix of ginger ale and a splash of grenadine, all with a cherry on top.” He makes a motion with his right hand as if he’s topping an ice cream cone with that exact cherry. “Grenadine is a sort of pomegranate syrup if you didn’t know. Good stuff. Though, if you don’t like ginger ale, I can always use different things.” He extends his hand to you and starts to count on his fingers. “Lemon-like soda, lemonade, or even orange juice if you want. Oh!” A bright smile spreads on his face, making you admire how cheerful he is. “I can even mix two drinks if you want. I personally like to make mine with lemon-lime soda and ginger ale.”

Oh? That doesn’t sound bad at all. You nod and he claps his hands excitedly. “You want my version?! Alright!” He laughs and fixes himself up, pretending to slick his hair back as he puffs his chest out, providing you with a small comedic show. “Uhm, excuse me though, I have to get an extra ingredient out the back.”

You sit there in silence for a few minutes, until he comes back with a small, shot glass full of a dark, red liquid. He swishes it around a bit and sets it aside.

“We keep some strawberry syrup in the back.” He chuckles. “I always like to add some to my shirley temple.”

Strawberry syrup? Wow, this drink actually sounds delicious. Surprising, since it was a drink recommended to you on a random whim.

He reaches down and emerges with a tall, empty glass, alongside a small can of lemon-lime soda, and ginger ale. “Alright, you get to watch me work.” He hums happily, reaching down again and pulling out the grenadine.

Er, now that you get a good look at him, he looks paler than he did a few minutes ago… Is he alright?

“Pale?” He pours ice into a shaker and the empty glass as he raises a brow at you. “Do I look like that?” He shakes the cans of soda around, cracking both of them open at the same time using the table ledge. He gives you a small chuckle and wink. “I told you, long shift, remember? Ah, the regulars were extra ruthless this evening…” He murmurs, pouring the grenadine into the empty tall glass, alongside the full shot glass of strawberry syrup. “A group of old guys that come in every so often. A group of 4.”

The syrup is strangely liquidy for a so-called “syrup”, but you don’t think anything of it. “They ordered like, 10 drinks, I’m telling you. It was all heavy shit too.” He stops and chuckles quietly. “Sorry. I’m not supposed to curse at work. Anyway, they’re all heavy-ass drinkers.” He starts to shake the ginger ale and lemon-lime soda together in the shaker, looking at you as he does so. “Like, how many drinks can a 56-year-old man down? A lot, I’ll tell you.” He pulls the lid off the shaker and peers into the cup randomly. “Luckily, it’s pretty slow now, just take a look around.” He licks his lips as he pops the lid for the shaker back on, and he pours the shaken liquid into the glass, bending down again to emerge with a single cherry. “Too bad that was the most exciting thing to happen to me today. Just a bunch of old guys being loud. I was almost thinking about kicking them out, but they tip well, so… Eh.” He tops the drink off dramatically, acting like it’s a ticking time bomb ready to explode, before dropping the act and handing you your drink. “You better drink it all before I do.”

You grin as you take a good look at the glass in front of you. The grenadine and strawberry syrup at the bottom made an extremely pretty red ombre effect after the soda was poured into it. You lift the glass to your lips, as he looks at you eagerly, full of interest, and you take a couple of sips.

… This tastes odd. Not odd in the sense that it’s bad, or in the sense that you were drugged, he’s a bartender. He wouldn’t do that.

Would he?

You take a small glance up at him before taking another few sips, and it hits you.

Yeah… This does taste a bit odd. You purse your lips in discontent.

… Is that the small taste of iron?

You look up at him in confusion. You’re not bleeding from your mouth, you’re sure of it. Is the grenadine or strawberry syrup expired? He frowns as you stare at him.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like the drink?” He rubs his arm uncomfortably, and looks at the drink, placing his hand on top of yours. “I can make a new one if you’d like.”

He did make the drink in front of you, and you didn’t see any sort of drug added into it, alongside the fact that he’s offering to make a whole new drink for you… He didn’t drug it after all, huh?

“No, it’s okay, I, uh, understand how people can be nowadays.” He tried to laugh it off, but his smile faded into one of discomfort. “Sorry. It might taste a little funny, it’s just the way I prefer to make it.”

You shake your head and bring the drink to your lips again, taking another couple of sips to show him that you don’t mind. You just assume it’s one of those drinks that you just have to get used to the more you drink it, similar to a rich whisky or even just fairly sour lemonade.

“Oh.” He leans down and rests his arms on the table, watching you drink your shirley temple with joy. “It’s still good, right?”

You give him a small thumbs-up of approval, and he chuckles to himself quietly.

“Good, that’s good…” He pauses and takes a small look around the bar. It looks like he wants to say something.

“Are you, uh… Are you busy for the rest of the night? My shift ends at 1:30 AM tonight. I’m working overtime, so…” His eyes don’t meet with yours, as he stares at your drink. The deep reds swirl at the bottom of the cup. “It’s only me tonight. Everyone else already left. Look.”

You didn’t even notice.

No one else is in the bar anymore. It’s only you and him.

… He looks so sad at the thought of being alone. It’s not like you’re busy or anything later, right after this you’re going home. Even more, you took the bus here, and there’s been news of recent kidnappings after bus rides recently…

“You’ll stay? Really?!” He grins and claps his hands together a couple of times. “Hell yeah! Oh, hold on.” He runs over to the door of the bar, flips the “Open” sign to “Closed”, and he locks the door. He makes his way back over to you and starts to talk again. While he walks over, you take some more sips of your drink, and you were right, it gets better and better as you drink it. “I can make you another drink if you’d like. How about another shirley temple? Maybe a virgin sunrise tequila cocktail? Hmm…” He pushes the small door blocking people from getting access to the bar, and starts to take off his vest. “Maybe a New York sour?” He sets the vest aside, placing it next to you on the table. His gold nameplate glitters in the dim lighting of the bar, and he lets out a small sigh. “Uhm, thanks for staying with me, by the way. I know you just started to know me but it’s really nice of you…” He gets quieter and quieter, and it comes to a point where he stops talking to just stare at you.

… He’s starting to look scary.

“Hmm?” He snaps out of it once you ask him if he’s okay, and he shakes his head, brushing it off. “Sorry, sorry. I’m still tired.” He fixes his shirt, running his hands down and up his chest to get rid of all the wrinkles. “Er, how about we start sitting together in class? You don’t sit with anyone you know.”

How does he know that?

“I mean, you’re always alone when you walk in class, and you never talk to anyone either, so…” He laughs a little, taking a quick glance at your drink. The drink is almost finished, and just a bit of the grenadine and syrup sit at the bottom. “Want me to make you another one?”

You nod and he leaves you for another few minutes, just to come back out with another shot glass, full of that same strawberry syrup. You wonder why he doesn’t just bring the bottle out, since you’ll probably just ask for another one after this.

“The bottle?” He grins and starts to prepare the drink again, popping open the soda cans against the table like he did earlier. “It’s not a bottle. It’s this fat-ass container. Think of those big ass bottles of ketchup they have at like fast food places or something.” He pours the grenadine and syrup into the glass again, and you get a good look at his face. He’s pale again. Does he feel sick? But you remember that he’s tired, and brush it off as soon as the thought enters your head. “It’s a hassle to bring it out, so what the other servers do is they’ll bring out a shot glass of it to make drinks, like this.” He picks up the shot glass to point your attention to it, and pours the soda and ginger ale in the shaker. “We’ve been thinking that it would just be better to have a small bottle of it out here, like the ones with the vented pourer at the top, those glass ones, yeah?” He shakes the drink, ice rattling around in the container. “Or maybe one of those syrup pourers you see in those pancake places, haha.” He stops and pours the soda into the cup, making that beautiful ombre effect again. “Want the cherry?”

Yes, please.

He grins at your nodding and bends down, pulling up a single cherry as he tops your drink. “You didn't even eat the cherry in the last one.”

Oh yeah, you didn’t. You glance at the empty cup full of ice, and the single cherry lying there.

“I got it.” He reaches into the cup and takes the cherry out by the stem, setting the cherry in his mouth. You watch him chew on it as you take a few sips of your drink, that mellow taste filling your mouth again. He pulls the stem off and takes the cherry pit out of his mouth. “I, uh, I always hate the pit.” He tried to laugh but suddenly seemed a little out of breath. He looks away and you saw his face shift from happy to… You can’t tell.

“Hold on, the trash is right here…”He bends down, almost bumping into the bar table, and seemingly throws both the pit and stems away. “Sorry, I suddenly feel tired.”

You frown and take a good look at him. He does look strangely sick all of a sudden.

“Hmm? Oh, no, it’s fine! I don’t have to leave yet, ahaha…”

“... Close early? No, it’s fine.” He hums and grabs a random rag, suddenly cleaning the bar table, and making swirling motions with his hand. “I have to clean up anyway.” He points to the tables around you two, littered with dirty glasses. “Uhm, give me a few minutes, okay? This won’t take long at all.”

You watch him run around the clean every table, scrubbing them down and washing the dishes. You offered to help several times, yet he refused your assistance every time, brushing it all off with an “I’m fine!” or an “I’m almost done.” Around 30 minutes had passed, and even after he finished cleaning, he made you another drink.

“You feelin’ okay?” He takes a seat next to you, on your side of the bar this time. You’re on your third drink by now, and this time you decided to let him make a New York sour, damn these drinks are good. “You’re not tired, are you?”

Shouldn’t you be the one asking him that?

“Me? I’m okay!” Granted, the color did return to his face, and he seemed a bit more peppy now. “We just have a few minutes until 1:00 AM.”

You take the last sips of your drink and think.

…You have classes early tomorrow.

“... Leave early? Why?” He frowns and looks at you. “Ah, do you actually feel tired? Sick?” He sets his hand on your forehead, making your face warm up. He leans in close to you, and you can practically feel his breath on your neck. “... Do you need anything?” He speaks softly to you, as if you’re a loved one, a significant other. You don’t say anything, and just shake your head a little to his question. He nods. “If you need anything, I’m here.” He hums, his hand making its way to your cheek. “You’re too warm, maybe you really are sick…”

You shake your head no aggressively, frowning at his gesture. You’re sure he meant well, but he can’t just touch you out of nowhere like that. What the hell is his problem?

“... Sorry.” He murmurs, moving his hand away, and it falls loosely to his side. He takes a peer at his watch and is quiet for a few seconds. “It’s almost 1:00 AM. Do you really want to leave early…?”

Yes. Yes you do. He looks at you a little heartbroken, but shakes his head, as if to get the feeling out of his body, and he just smiles. “It’s fine. C’mon.” He steps off the stool and grabs his vest, beckoning you over. “I’ll have to drive you home, unless you have an Uber at this hour?”

You wince. The buses aren’t open this late, but it’s not like you were going to take one anyway. No way in hell you were going to take an Uber either.

“Sure, just give me your address.” He locks the bar door behind him, then he leads you to his car, and it’s a nice black sports-like car. You can totally see him driving this kind of car around. He pulls the passenger door open for you, bowing a little as you step in. A few seconds later he sits into the driver's seat and turns the car on. “Your address?”

…

His face turns into one of shock, and then he grins. “No fucking way. You live in my apartment complex?”

Woah. It’s coincidence after coincidence with this guy.

“Well shit, this makes everything easier.”

The cold air hits you suddenly as you step out of his car, and the little jingle of his keys makes you turn to him.

“What floor do you live on?”

The second floor. And your next-door neighbors are dickheads.

“Mmn. Me too.” He chuckles and slips the keys into his pocket, rubbing his arm again. You both walk to the building and he just talks along the way. “It’s a bit cooler today than it was last night, haha. I would’ve brought my coat, but I didn’t check the weather this afternoon…” You both make your way to the stairs and start to walk up. You take your keys out of your pocket in advance. “I was going to ask which room you live in, but that’s a little much, huh?”

Eh, you might as well tell him, right?

“205, huh? I’m literally down at 210.” The lights in the hallway are dimmed as you both try to step in as quietly as you can, especially you. “Want me to drop you off at your room? I don’t mind.”

You shake your head, but thank him for the offer.

“Mmn, see you tomorrow classmate.” He hums and waves you goodbye as he keeps on walking to his room. You wave goodbye too, push the keys into your lock, twist, and then walk into your apartment.

Home sweet home.

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕦𝕤 ℙ𝕆𝕍!

I watch them walk back into their apartment, and take a glance at the 205 on their door. It’s not like I didn’t already know anyway. I’ve known that they live with me for a long time now.

They need to become more aware of their surroundings. What if someone else besides me was following them home? To their classes, to their favorite place to eat, to their doctor appointments…

I step into my apartment, and it suddenly hits me again.

Holy shit. They drank all of it. Every drink I gave them. And they loved it. Every single one.

A part of me, inside them. Oh, how incredible…

I feel my cock harden in my pants, and I grip my keys tightly. I don’t want to do that right now, but I don’t think I can fight that urge for long

I sigh dreamily and throw my keys onto the kitchen counter, digging into my pocket as I pull out the two cherry pits and stems from their drinks. I can feel my heart pound as I stare at the pits. I get to add something else to my collection, wow…

I don’t take my eyes off the pits for even a moment as I push my bedroom door open, squatting down and pulling out my box. Black, decorated with a red ribbon. I set the pits and stems into the corner, along with the pen they dropped one day while they were walking in front of me.

I hesitate for a moment, before pulling out the capped syringe from my pocket. I stare at the dried-up blood inside the tube, dropping it inside the box with everything else. I have to clean it. The blood’s gonna rot if I don’t, but I’ll just do it tomorrow.

I’m so excited, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.

I can feel my hands shake, and even the blood run through my veins. Tomorrow needs to hurry up and come. I need to see them again…

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #not proofread #gn reader #male yandere #x gender neutral reader #x gn y/n #yandere oc x reader #dead dove do not eat #eww he made u drink his blood :(

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krabkrab-wontshutup · 11 months

Text

Yeah, I'm thinking about heartless again. Gonna slam a fic here:

The room was silent. Neither Flint nor Eira wanted to say anything to each other. Yet, the silence was uncomfortable.

Eira’s eyes darted around the room, Trying his best to keep himself from glancing at Flint.

Flint’s mind was elsewhere though, so he wouldn't have noticed. He was thinking about the run-in they’d recently had with the jury. He and Eira had both fought well, and he wasn't worried, it was just… the way Eira had looked at him during the fight, the simple smirk. It gave him this weird, fuzzy feeling.

He stood up, deciding he needed fresh air, and walked towards the door on Eira’s “side” of the room.

Eira flinched as he watched Flint leave- well, he didn’t mean to watch. Flint was just suddenly there. And the door was right next to Eira’s bed, it's not like he wouldn't notice. Eira gave Flint a small awkward smile as he opened the door. Flint smiled back.

He put his head in his hands when flint shut the door, sighing, “how am I unable to have a regular conversation with someone I share a room with?”

Flint had made the right choice by heading outside. He rarely ever got to see Eira smile, and when he did it tended to be in battle. The fact that they weren’t in action gave Flint time to think about the fuzzy feelings he got when Eira smiled at him.

Flint nodded, saying to himself, “I’m definitely going to try and get him to smile more often.”

And try he did.

“What’s your favorite type of cake?”

Eira was suspicious of the question, but he answered, “German Chocolate, why?”

“I’m just writing stuff down, trying to get everyone’s favorite cakes into my memory,” Now, this wasn’t necessarily a lie. Flint had been planning on doing this. But, Eira was the only one he asked so far. Flint cleared his throat as he wrote down “Frosty likes German chocolate”.

“German chocolate is pretty good.”

Eira nodded, made the sort of humming noise you make when you agree with someone but have nothing to add to the conversation, and went back to reading his book. It was titled “The Seer of Angels”, and it was about a man cursed to grow 6 pairs of wings and lose his sight after trying to see into the future.

“Is that book any good? I mean, do you like it?”

Eira laughed, that warm laugh that Flint just couldn’t get enough of. “Yes, it's good. I don’t think I’d be reading it if it wasn’t!”

Flint looks at Eira in a way that almost shocks him. It's uncharacteristically soft. Eyebrows raised just slightly, head tilted slightly upward, a hand rested on his chin, and a slight smile- barely noticeable if you weren't paying attention. But Eira was, and he practically whipped his head around to hide his face in his book. He was certain he could feel his face getting warmer.

Flint was, reasonably, a bit worried, “Ah, did I look at you weird? I’m sorry- I really didn’t mean to”

Eira cut him off, saying “It’s alright, Flint.”

And so, that was that. The two went back to their routine of not talking to each other. But this time, the silence was comforting.

Flint was suffering. The team had taken a job in a desert of all places! Everyone was wearing fewer layers. Except for Eira. Was he insane?

“Dude, why are you still wearing that? It’s boiling!”

“Hm, I guess my body just runs colder? I’m not sure.”

Flint groaned. He really hated the heat.

“If you want, you can borrow my scarf. I’m certain it's affected by my temperature.”

Flint was startled by the gesture, but he accepted.

Eira handed him the scarf. Their hands brushed against each other, causing Eira’s face to heat up again. He quickly turned away. He muttered something under his breath that Flint couldn’t hear.

“Your hand is warm..”

“What?”

“Nothing! It's nothing.”

Flint was not convinced in the slightest.

#winter solstice #eira x flint #eira hale #flint solveig #heartless abd illustrates #heartless eira #heartless flint #fic #writing #fanfiction

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coraphoenix · 1 year

Text

In Her Own Time, Like the Sea

Summary: A quiet night by the beach takes a turn neither Natasha nor Jake were expecting...just in different ways.

Warnings: slightly angsty? idk can't think of any. Talking about love.

Pairing: Hannix (Phoenix/Hangman)

A/N: This idea has been present for a while now. Some of you will remember my post about how How Would You Feel by Ed Sheeran inspired this concept. Here it is. Unedited and unlikely to be edited, so just look the other way if you bump into any typos.

Sea breeze floats through the car windows, salty mist riding on its waves and tickling Natasha’s cheeks, tendrils of hair like ribbons of ink against her skin. The crashing of the waves against the shore is as distant as it is near, the sound loud in the quiet car, accentuated by nothing but the sound of her breaths in her own ears, deep and rhythmic. If she listens carefully, she can hear Jake’s too, matching her on the inhales and exhales.

She burrows deeper into the seat, muscles unlocking, weight sinking as she stares out at the darkened beach front, soft lights illuminating the parts of the shore closest to the street. Still, the white foam is visible. Natasha could almost feel it against her feet, slightly cold, the sand damp underneath her. She curls her toes in her flip-flops, breathing in the scent of brine, her lungs expanding until her ribs reach their limit.

A swipe of a thumb against her palm has her breath stuttering, the air thinning as she turns her head, catching Jake’s eyes, his gaze intent on her face. She smiles, relaxed, edges soft, and sees Jake soften too, his shoulders dropping.

He swipes his thumb over her palm again, and Natasha never thought she could care for hand-holding as much as she does now. But he engulfs her hand with his, and she feels like he’s holding her whole being. So maybe she does care for it.

She breathes in again, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty breeze as he trails his hand up her forearm, over her shoulder, up the side of her neck to her face where he cups her chin softly, drawing her forward. He presses a kiss to the right corner of her mouth, the left, stealing the air from her lungs with each soft touch, and smirks against her when her breath hitches as he presses a final, delicate kiss square on her lips.

His hand follows the trail back down, brushing against her sweatshirt clad shoulder, downwards until he laces their fingers together. She blinks at him, a little dazed with the chill and… him. They do this often, coming out to the beach, parking wherever grants them an uninterrupted view of the sea, sitting in silence. There was always so much noise, from carriers to jets to orders. Here they could sit together, enjoy the warmth that the other’s presence brought into the space without so much as uttering a single letter.

It often leaves Natasha sleepy, her body and mind melted into a state she doesn’t bother correcting.

Maybe that’s why she doesn’t fully register the nervous bobbing of Jake’s throat.

“Nat,” Jake whispers, afraid to disturb their bubble.

“Yeah?” she says, and her voice is a little hoarse with disuse.

He squeezes her hand. “How would you feel…” His eyes dart around her face, and she notices now, her body responding almost immediately. Her pulse picks up. “How would you feel if I told you I love you?”

She gulps, her chest constricting all of a sudden. There is this terrible voice in her head begging her to yank her hand away, but she resists.

“You’re freaking out,” Jake says, peering at her slightly wide eyes and parted lips.

“I’m not.” She is.

She’s thought about this before. Thought about all the possibilities. When he might say it. If he would ever say it. And everytime, it made her lock up, so she stashed away the notion in one of the old dusty boxes in her brain and called it a day.

It’s not that she doesn’t…love him. Sometimes when she thinks about him, she feels like she’ll burst from the sheer joy of it all, like her heart’s too big to fit inside her chest, like no amount of air could help her breathlessness. Is that love? Because she also feels like she’s standing on a tightrope thousands of miles away from the ground with nothing to keep her steady.

She’s been silent for too long. She can tell from the way Jake’s hold loosens slightly around her hand, giving her a chance to pull away. “Jake–”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, soothing and calm despite the note of hurt she can hear. “You don’t have to say it back.”

“Wait.” Natasha turns in her seat, facing him full on. Some of her panic is dulling, its sharp edges being smoothed out, but it’s still potent, widespread and inescapable. She cradles his face within her hands, thumbs hooking around his ears. Her eyes find his, both of them vulnerable in ways she never expected they would be. Natasha huffs a frustrated breath, resting her forehead against his collarbone. Her eyes glisten, the sting of tears sudden.

“I don’t know how to explain!” she says, somewhere between dejected and furious. Not at him. More at herself than anything else.

“It’s okay, Nat,” he says, so kindly it makes her ache. “You don’t have to, but I’m willing to listen.”

“I don’t know how to explain it because I don’t understand it myself.”

She pulls back, trying to keep her eyes on his. She never had trouble with it before, but something about this is making her want to flee and fight and surrender all at once. Instead, she opens the door, leaning out and breathing deeply, trying to hoard some of the night’s calm to herself. Jake is quiet, but she can feel his eyes on her back.

A couple of minutes later, she turns back in, closing the door. Her lips part, words tumbling and soaring within her in a tangled mess she’s hoping she can solve soon, but Jake beats her to it when she makes a sound. He cups her chin once more, mirror to just moments ago, though it feels like a lifetime back, and kisses her forehead, his lips warm on her chilled skin.

“In your own time,” he says.

Simple. Irrevocable.

It soothes the twisting in her gut, so she can breathe a little easier. And she has no way of knowing, but maybe this is love… a hand holding her own, a heart cradling her heart. In her own time, like the sea washing upon the shore.

#natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #hannix #hangman x phoenix #natasha trace x jake seresin

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lupically · 3 years

Text

#F40B32 | RYOMEN SUKUNA.

genre | light fluff, light angst, very faint romance undertone

word count | 2616

warning | mention of death, mention of injury, mention of killing, decapitation

note | i just wanted to try my hand at writing for a villain that is obviously irredeemable in a semi-realistic way.

what happens when you are irredeemable? you will fall in love anyway.

but ryomen sukuna wasn't in love with you. after all, he had killed you one too few times to claim that he was in love with you.

the first time he killed you was out of instinct. you were an intruder touching his soul the way mahito did, except you barged in without any malicious intention. he had gazed over your fallen body with mild interest then; a mere mortal, yet you emerged from thin air into his locked tight domain without dying?

the second time he killed you was a choice. he gave you not a minute to explain yourself, even though you had wasted the minute asking questions about his identity and the skull-filled area instead of giving him any valuable information about yourself. he had been fed up, he was never a man of patience, so he killed you with a wave of his hand and returned to his dull life alone on his throne.

the third time he killed you—he did not kill you. there was no third time; people liked to say the third time's charm but sukuna believed no such superstition. he killed you twice already and each time, you came back unscathed, both your body and your memories. whether he liked it or not, killing you for the third time would do neither you nor him any benefit, so he kept you alive.

you were afraid of him. he could tell, and he meant for things to be that way until he realized it served as a misfortune on his part. in order to understand this mystery—your sudden appearance into his domain, as well as your inability to leave it and his inability to kick you out—he has to gain some piece of information about you, but you were too shaken up from being murdered to talk to him at all.

sukuna's patience was reaching a breaking point and he thought about torturing it out of you, but he understood that humans are fragile, way more fragile than your typical jujutsu sorcerer. he could accidentally kill you and you would return with no scars and more unwilling to converse with him than before. then it was the waiting game all over again.

he wasn't planning on going through such a dull ordeal again, so he left you be and waited for you to calm yourself down.

the first time you talked to him, you asked him a question.

"are you going to kill me?" you asked him.

sukuna peered down at you from his throne. small, frightened, curled into a ball with no desire to touch the skeletons at his feet, but you looked up at him out of politeness.

he scoffed, displeased. "no, but i always can."

the second time you talked to him, it was to exchange a brief introduction.

"ryomen sukuna," he hummed curtly then he nudged his chin toward you. "your turn."

you shuffled up to your knees and sat down on your heels. your fingers fidgetted at your lap as you timidly peered up at his tattooed, disinterested expression.

"[full name]," you said with a nod, unable to meet his eyes. "nice–nice to meet you, sukuna-san..."

the third time you talked to him, you flinched.

"ma–may i ask you two questions... if i can...?" you asked, for the first time standing up to face him directly.

sukuna leaned away from his propped-up arm. after taking a better look at you, accessing your figure analytically despite having seen you move around slowly for days already, he shoved his hands into the sleeves of his robe and he suddenly jumped down from his throne to stand before you.

you pursed your lips nervously over his looming figure, face heating up with terrible anxiety while your eyes darted down to the watery ground. oh, his presence has been so overwhelmingly deadly that you forgot your white tennis shoes were stained red and your pastel ankle socks remained wet. you did not dare to complain, not even in your head.

"i'll allow it," he said.

"where am i?" you quickly asked.

"an innate domain," he replied.

you have questions, but you decided not to ask. you only nodded after breathing out a soft sigh to calm your nerves. this man constantly sounded condescending, he was kicking open your comfort zone without actively doing anything that would make you uncomfortable.

"okay..." you said, "thank you."

"aren't you going to ask me another question?" he stated with a raise of his brow. "you wanted to ask me two questions."

you gulped, blinking hopelessly at the air as a grimace appeared on your face. "the first question was if i can ask you two questions, and the second one is about where i am... so that makes two."

oh, a meticulously cautious one, and somewhat humorous too he would give you that. sukuna scoffed loudly, but it was less out of annoyance and more out of disbelief of your incredible dullness. however, as plain as you were, he has grown accustomed to your presence; the scent of fear that bounced off of you and the fact that he cannot kill you at will.

"you must be dying to know what this place is, are you not, you brat?" sukuna asked.

when he saw the flashes in your eyes, he knew he had you down through and through. all you were was but someone who was too afraid to say what they want, which was just as he expected from you. you wouldn't cause him trouble, you never could.

reaching his hand out of his sleeve, he stayed silent despite seeing the way you flinched with your eyes shut at his raised hand. his movement had been slow, but that was an involuntary response, an instinct that he didn't craft into you. he wondered what it was.

"you can ask me three more questions," he said as he pushed the heel of his palm against the curve of your head. he was gentle at first, then he clamped his hand down on your head as he bent his waist to meet your eyes. he laughed. "i'll allow it."

he could keep you here. he has no choice but to keep you here, and he would kill you once he realized he has the ability to. but for now, perhaps he could act a little civil, something like a human being but one that people would hate to the core.

except he was met with a little obstacle in the way, which was that you were no bad company.

the first time sukuna gained a liking toward you was when you asked him a peculiar question.

"sukuna-san," you called one time when there was only silence within the innate domain.

you sat on a bed of skulls, one that you tentatively asked the king of curses to make you so you wouldn't have to lean on the rib-cage structure and sit in water for slumber.

he denied it at first. calling you names and threatening you about ever requesting something from him—a bed in his domain? fucking atrocious. but your insomnia was killing you; you hated the blood water and your neck burned whenever you wake up having it arched at the worst angle possible.

he did not grow soft. he just made one so he didn't have to watch you sleep in his peripheral vision.

"hmm."

"why do you think curses exist?"

he raised a brow at you. "did i not teach you that before?"

"you did, sorry," you nodded, "then do you believe in god?"

"where the fuck is this coming from, you brat?"

"from where i came, god is good. but from what i am seeing, whether from where i came from or here, everything goes against that value," you muttered loudly as you pulled at your fingers. "cursed spirits harm people. if i can argue that way, i think cursed spirits are harmful within themselves."

"if god is good, and god is real, why would this happen," you said. "why should we feel negative emotions? why do we have the ability to create cursed spirits? why do curses like you exist?"

he furrowed his brows in irritation. have you reduced him to mere curses? have you reduced him to nothing but a brainless being that only takes joy in the suffering of others? no matter how he approached your words, he felt infuriated that you could minimize his importance to simply being a bad person.

he was much more than a bad person, much more than just a pain! he has ideals, he has goals and ambitions, he has wit and strength! he has anger and malevolence and power beyond which your soul could ever contain and endure! he was ryomen sukuna, the strongest curse in a thousand years and more!

he will fucking kill you.

"i'm really glad you're here, though," you finished off softly, an unknowing smile on your face as you rubbed your thumbs weakly together.

he will kill you.

"for a long time, i was told my anger and hatred aren't real. that they don't and should not exist, and i learned to bury them to the ground so they never appear on the surface again," you said, your innocent smile audible to his ears and making his chest twitch with guilt.

"cursed spirits' existence is proof that my negative emotions are real. they may be a problem, but i am not crazy for having them because they're here. they became something, they're here and alive."

he will... he will kill you.

"i just think it's unfair to put the blame on cursed spirits and cursed energy alone when the society's standard guarantees the manifestation of them," you said. "if my anger got out to the world in the form of a monster and it hurt someone, i'll forgive it. i will forgive myself."

he...

"you don't need to hear this, i wish i had your confidence, but i have to say it," you looked up and smiled at him, "i'm a little glad you're here, sukuna-san."

he will kill–he will ki–

the second time, he went stoic.

mahito was too smart for his own good. the first thing he noticed when he entered the soul within yuji's body was the way sukuna has the collar of your shirt clutched in his hand and your body pulled close to his side. it was a glance, he had one small glimpse of you both before he was kicked out of the domain.

your face was riddled with tears—crying, disappointed, and frustrated, but why? for the transfigured human whose name mahito almost forgot, or because sukuna just had one of the most sadistic outbursts you have ever witnessed.

and sukuna, the king, the lord, the almighty—didn't he look annoyed. well, not annoyed, per se. angry, mad, overwhelmed, knowing, protective. very, very, very protective; glowing eyes that glared at mahito's patched up face, fingers that gripped at your shirt so tightly he could rip the fabric apart, an aura that was ready to spit any moment if mahito so much as reach a finger toward your direction.

you meant something to ryomen sukuna. mahito realized that, so the second time he entered the innate domain, he killed you.

right before his eyes, with a cunning and triumphant smile, your neck cracked and your skin broke, and mahito tore your head off just before he was once again beat out of the domain.

sukuna tried to heal you. he tried to seal your head back to your lifeless body, time and time again pushing your decapitated head against your haphazardly cut neck. but his reverse curse technique wasn't healing you. your skin refused to piece itself back together, you refused to come back to him. time passed and he was getting mad, he was going batshit crazy trying to force himself out of this body.

bastard! bastard! bastard! he was supposed to kill you! he was supposed to be the one to kill you! he would murder that patch-faced piece of shit! he would kill mahito! and he would destroy the whole world, light it on fire and kill all that wasn't worthy of his time! he would jump universes, light-years, the bloodstream of the galaxy to find you and bring you back to him. he would—

"sukuna-san, i'm sorry i took a while! i thought you were fighting–holy shit, is that me?"

the third time, sukuna admitted to himself.

"what kind of flowers do you like, sukuna-san?" you asked, voice drowsy and your legs dangling after you climbed on one of the bones of the rib-cage structure.

"why does it matter?" he asked from his throne, eyeing you carefully.

your were a clumsy idiot. you could fall anytime.

"it doesn't, but it's flowers," you mumbled with your chin leaning against the bone, eyes threatening to close. "sukuna... sukuna..."

"what?" he snapped.

"i like lilies, the red ones," you said with a silly grin. "will you visit me when i die? sukuna... will you bring... mmm... bring red lilies..."

he looked ahead. your death; your grave, decorated with red lilies, protected and preserved with his curses. your death—he gritted his teeth. he refused to think about it. it was a waste of time.

or maybe he simply hated the idea of your death.

sukuna has not gone soft. he was irredeemable; a killer, a curse, a tragedy to descend upon mankind. he was not good and he never would be, nor did he ever have the intention to be good.

still, from you, there was proof that he could be more. what was left of his being; his anger and his torture, what was left within the gaps of his hell, the rare softness that once was there, belonged to you now.

you were the vessel that pocketed all that he could potentially become if he wasn't born to be ryomen sukuna, a version of him that you have witnessed. within you, there was proof that he did not only exist to hurt people, but also to validate madness and pain, to acknowledge passion in its murderous wakefulness. within you, there was proof that within himself, there are pieces of what it means to be human and alive.

hearing your soft breath, sukuna looked up to find you asleep with your head against the bone. your arms barely supported your weight and you were threatening to fall off as you dozed with faint snores. he stared at you, his fingers twitching, then he finally waved his hand so he could bring you away from the ribcage and to where he sat.

he paid no mind to subtlety when he set you on his lap. his hand supported your back while he kept your head pressed against his shoulder. his other arm went around your body, preventing you from falling off the throne made only for him to sit on. when he was done adjusting to the new sitting position, he relaxed.

brushing the hair away from your face, he stared down at you with disinterest, but his heart pumped and pumped for you to be warm and well, his arms tightened for you to sleep soundly.

"i will bring you all the red lilies you want," he whispered, the back of his finger gliding past your soft cheek. you did not smell like fear when you fall asleep, you did not smell like fear now even when you looked at him. "i will allow myself that."

after all, ryomen sukuna was only fond of you. very, very fond of you.

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pan-fangirl-345 · 3 years

Text

Fighting My Own Battles, and Mineta

Summary: As much as being Bakugou's girlfriend is hard sometimes, dealing with a grape rat is worse.

Or: Mineta makes the mistake of groping you in front of the class.

TW: Sexual harassment, Mineta, unwanted/nonconsensual groping, violence against the grape rat, but it's deserved. Oh, and swearing.

A/N: I've been seeing a lot of headcanons and scenarios of the boys protecting you, but I haven't seen many of the reader protecting themselves, so I wrote one!

Dating Bakugou Katsuki was not been easy. He had enough emotional constipation for thirteen people, and had a hard time expressing emotions that weren't anger, pride, annoyance, or boastful confidence. Sometimes he managed indifference well, but most of the time he ignored people that he didn't think were worthy of his attention.

At this point, you had no idea how you had managed to climb to the rank of his girlfriend. He barely considered the Bakusquad acquaintances and they were the closest people to him other than Midoriya.

It had taken a while, but you had slowly managed to decode the things he did for you, the way he talked to you.

Dating Bakugou was not easy.

But with Bakugou you were in a mutually fulfilling relationship. Whenever you had a bad day, Bakugou always managed to find a way to make it a little better, if not turn it around completely and you did the same thing for him.

You got nothing out of dealing with Mineta. He only made your bad days worse, and you were one sexual comment or action away from breaking his neck.

Today had been your breaking point.

"Katsuki, seriously, I can handle myself," you told the blond, letting him settle his chin on the top of your head as you listened to his heartbeat.

His arms were around your waist, and yours were around his in a corner of the training grounds.

You had been paired up with Mineta for one-on-one battles for the first twenty minutes of class and neither you nor Katsuki were happy about it.

Katsuki was doing what he did best, complaining about things he didn't approve of.

"I know you can, babe, but that doesn't mean that he's gonna keep his hands to himself."

"I'll handle it if he doesn't," you promised, running your hands across Katsuki's back softly. "Katsuki, I'm gonna be fine."

Katsuki nodded into your hair, pressing a couple quick kisses there before he had to move away from you.

"Katsuki," you called.

He turned, eyes darting over your face.

"I got this," you told him.

"I know you do babe, otherwise you wouldn't be my girl."

You smiled at him and he grinned back.

Your grin faded when Mineta appeared beside you, giving you a look that made you want to peel his face off.

"I can't wait to see what kind of positions I can get you into," he cooed, and you gagged, turning your head away.

"Let's get this over with Mineta," you said, heading for the area that Cementoss had set up for the students.

Things were okay for the first ten minutes or so, but you could tell that Mineta was paying more attention to your body than he was to the fights.

"Mineta, my eyes are up here you slimy bastard," you said, trying to draw his eyes away from your chest.

"Mineta, since you don't seem to be paying much attention to your fight, how about you and (Y/L/N) let the rest of the class watch your fight to get you more in the mindset of battle," Aizawa suggested.

The other fights halted when the teacher spoke up, and you could hear Katsuki's growl from across the room.

Mineta, not one to argue with Aizawa, paled, but nodded.

You headed for your own end of the training pad, getting into position.

Mineta was practically trembling on his end, but you could hear your classmates cheering for you, your boyfriend's voice noticeably absent.

He knew that you didn't need him cheering for you to you to know that he was on your side.

When the battle started, it didn't take long for you to have Mineta pinned, writhing underneath you, trying to escape.

But he managed to get one of his hands free and he groped at your chest, making you snarl.

You stood, picking Mineta up by the front of his suit and his throat, leaning closely to his ear as you walked him back against a wall.

"If you ever touch me, or another girl like that ever again, I will make what happened at Mt. Lady's look like heaven on earth, do you understand me Mineta?" you asked slowly, tightening your grip on his throat. "And then, when I'm done with you, I'll hand you over to Katsuki and the others."

Mineta was practically hyperventilating as he caught sight of you boyfriend, Mineta's face turning almost as purple as his hair.

Kirishima, Sero, Todoroki, and Midoriya were all trying to hold Katsuki back from getting to you and Mineta. Despite the others trying to restrain him, he was making good progress.

Your boyfriend might've had a bad temper, but you had never seen him this pissed off.

For a moment, you were actually concerned that he was going to kill the grape rat, not that you had any issues with that. It would look bad on his record though, and he would probably get thrown out of U.A. if he did that, so your next objective was to calm him down.

You pushed, hard, one more time on Mineta's throat before you dropped him, letting him cough and suck in breath on the floor.

You walked over to Katsuki, who had his eyes glued to Mineta.

"Let him go," you told the boys, who took one glance at you and let Katsuki go.

Katsuki's palms started to crackle but you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Katsuki," you murmured, "Katsuki, let the others deal with him."

"I am not letting him get away with touching you like that," Katsuki snarled, so lowly that the others all took three big steps away from him.

"I know, but I handled it, the others are just cleaning the mess up," you replied. "Can . . . can you just hold me?"

You could feel the perv's hands on you still, and you hated that feeling.

Katsuki heard the tone of your voice, he heard the undertones too, and he wrapped his arms around you, picking you up bridal style before he sat on the floor, cradling you in his lap.

Aizawa looked at you and Katsuki before turning towards the rest of the class, who was gathered around Mineta.

"I love you," Katsuki murmured into your hair. "I love you."

"I know," you replied, "I know."

"I should be murdering him right now," he muttered.

"You can have him when the others have had their fun with him," you told him.

"I will never do that you," Katsuki promised.

"I know you won't," you replied, "because you're a hero. My hero."

"No, you're your own hero, but I'm a close second," he said, tightening his grip on you.

"'Course you are baby," you murmured, laying your head on Katsuki's chest so that you could hear his heartbeat.

To say that Mineta had to be sent to Recovery Girl was an understatement. But when he hobbled back to class, nothing was healed.

Apparently she didn't appreciate him harassing the girls either.

Aizawa sent him back to his dorm room, and told him that he would have to catch up when he was well enough to come back to classes.

He had already apologized to you and the other girls and said that Mineta was finishing out the year and then he was being replaced by Shinso.

"Anyone is better than that perv," you said later that night. "And when I talked him, he seemed like a nice guy. He'll definitely be a better hero than Mineta."

The girls all agreed with you.

"I'll be glad that he's gone so we stop having to tape him up all the time," Sero added from across the room where he was studying with Kaminari.

Everyone was in agreement on that fact, there was no doubt about it.

"I'm going to bed," Katsuki grumbled, walking over to kiss you on the cheek before he trudged up to his room.

"Sweet dreams baby!" you called, and he grunted back, making you smile softly.

"I know that Bakugou gets mad a lot, but I've never seen him as furious as he was today," Momo said, making the others nod.

"Yeah, I seriously thought that we were going to have to get him a muzzle again," Uraraka added.

"It took four of the boys to slow him down, but you managed to calm him down with just a few words, you really were made for him weren't you (Y/L/N)-chan, ribbit?" Tsuyu asked and you laughed.

"Katsuki knows that I can handle myself, but he also knows when I just need him to be there for me. There are some battles where I let him take over, but today I just needed him to be there with me, and he knew that. Trust me, I know when to pick my battles, even I can't calm him down all the time, but there are a few instances where I can get him to calm down more than the others can just because I know him better than some of the others."

"He's a good boyfriend then?" Momo asked, always one for romantic gossip.

"He is to me," you admitted. "But I also don't know how I managed that."

The girls laughed, and you couldn't help but join in with them.

This was what washed away the feeling of Mineta's hands, this was what helped remind you that not everyone was like that.

Katsuki helped too, just like he always did, but sometimes it was nice to have other women to relate to as well.

The boys did what they could to keep the grape rat under control, and the girls watched out for each other. Your boyfriend watched out for you, and you for him. It was like one big family, and you had a feeling that Shinso was going to be a wonderful addition to the Class 1-A family.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #fluff #class 1-a #bnha #x reader #reader

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gyusbambi · 3 years

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humph; han seojun (pt 4)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5

click here for humph masterlist!

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: humph! is a story inspired by pentagon’s “humph! / 접근금지”. originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 3.8k

to claim that the cupid-team is surprised to witness han seojun getting along with his long term frenemy would be an absolute understatement. in fact, they seem completely and utterly dumbfounded as they watch you both laugh at a joke seojun pulled in the middle of the bus ride back home. needless to say, the childhood friends tease each other now and then like they’re used to it, this time without hurting any feelings. all of these observations, including the fact that you decided to sit next to each other in the bus, lead to several assumptions and without you knowing, rumors start to develop.

for whatever reason, neither you nor seojun are aware of the gossip regarding both of you. perhaps it’s thanks to kim chorong, who’s apparently really skilled at being inconspicuous.

it’s been one day since you arrived home and you find yourself sleeping in till two pm on a saturday.

seriously, you should fix your chaotic sleeping schedule.

when you finally leave your room to get some food into your stomach, dressed in your favorite hoodie and sweatpants, your mum and juyeong are already eating lunch. like expected, they give you a quick judging look without interrupting their conversation. while you’re putting some rice in a bowl they talk about juyeong’s crush on some girl. soon their conversation moves to something related to seojun, and that's when you suddenly pay attention instead of playing with the cold food on your plate.

"y/n, is seojun’s mother in a better condition now?"

instantly you look up to react to your mum’s question. instead of looking at you, she puts more vegetables on juyeong’s table,

"it's been a few days since i last visited her, maybe i should do it again soon. i really hope she gets better."

"what are you talking about?"

"seojun hyung's mum is in hospital." juyeong answers, his mouth stuffed with food while pushing the vegetables away with a scrunched face.

"what?"

"hasn't he told you about his mum? i thought you guys would tell each other everything." my mum questioned with a small pout forming on her lips, finally meeting your worried eyes.

"they broke up.", your annoying brother fails the attempt to whisper.

"we're not together!"

displeased, you hiss at your brother, voice getting higher.

"you guys act like a married couple sometimes. it's annoying."

"shut up!"

"both of you stop now." your mother sighs while her hands move in the air in attempt to stop you from attacking your own brother.

"seojun’s mum is seriously sick and i'm going to visit her tomorrow morning. y/n, maybe you should do too? or talk to him a little since he's probably not doing so well."

"i will."

feeling upset that you’re just finding out about seojun’s mother’s condition, you can’t stop thinking about it for the whole day. besides that, you are worried and consider visiting them the next day.

even though their house is quite near to yours, you have to go through the dangerous part of your quarter. as you make your way to the han’s, your hand moves to your right pocket to grab the pocketknife, which seojun gifted you in your freshman year of high school. for defense reasons, he said.

"you need to be careful when you're walking down this street. here, have this."

however, instead of seeing a group of dangerous men, you spot han seojun himself, walking towards your direction with hands in his pocket. thinking of a casual way of greeting him, you clear your throat before taking a few steps forwards in order to greet him,

"hey!”

"hey, what are you doing here?"

surprised to see you in this area, seojun raises his eyebrows.

"well, i actually wanted to visit- what the hell happened to your face?"

rapidly, you interrupt yourself when the boy is finally close enough for you to spot the multiple bruises on his pale skin. this causes you take a few steps forward and reach for his cheek instantly, worry written all over your face.

he looks horrible. bruises all over his face, lip bleeding, knuckles visibly red.

seojun catches glimpse of your worried eyes and feels embarrassed for you to find him at this state. instead of making the attempt to explain the situation, he grabs your hand which rests on his cheek. the touch of your warm and soft hand causes a pressure building in this chest. seojun doesn’t dare to take his eyes off of yours.

suddenly your cheeks feel like they’re turning into the shade of a tomato. besides that, your heart starts acting all weird when you catch glimpse of his intense eyes.

"what happened?" you question once again, this time with even more concern.

"it's not important-"

"did you get into a fight?"

"that bastard lee seungyong was getting on my nerves again, it's not important." he sighs after running his hand through his hair.

"alright. come on, we need to clean those bruises before they get worse." you mutter after grabbing his right arm and pulling him towards your house.

seojun hisses with a painful expression as you attempt to clean the awful wounds on his cheeks. with a concentrated look crossing over your face, you focus on the terrible cut. however, you impatiently drop your hand on your lap when seojun can’t seem to stop moving, an annoyed sigh followed after.

“could you stop moving the whole time? i’m trying to do something here.”,

positioning yourself closer to the boy sitting on the edge of your bed, you’re ready to treat his wounds for the third time. seojun only grins playfully despite the painful bruises,

“look at you acting like a doctor.”

ignoring his comment, you raise your hand once again to reach for his chin. fingers brushing on his skin, you are able to focus. this time seojun doesn’t flinch. quite the contrary, he’s like frozen on spot. the only thing he seems to be able to focus on are your features.

nothing but silence dominates your room as you decide to clean the cut on his bottom lip. you fingers brushing over his soft lip, eyes completely focused on them, the poor boy’s heart is about to explode in front of you. he internally thanks to god that you don’t notice his chest rising up and down or his ears turning into a darker shade of red. breath taken away, his eyes linger on your lips, blinking frequently.

yet, his relief only lasts for a couple seconds when the silence eventually makes you look up to seojun, only to find him already staring at you, eyes gazing at your lips.

not aware of your slightly surprised eyes, he continues staring. clearly, your bodies are almost attached to each other. not to mention, you leaned in a little earlier, grip on his shoulder to prevent him from moving. the young boy practically prays that you won’t hear his heart racing in his chest.

aren’t you even a little nervous? it almost makes him annoyed how the closeness doesn’t seem to bother you at all.

little does he know that you feel the exact same way. in fact, you’re so bothered by the butterflies in your stomach that you suddenly wish that he would just continue making dumb jokes or rude comments.

pulling your hand away from his shoulder in a swift move, you blink. still, you’re not able to look away which seems so stupid and unbelievably odd.

seconds after you catch glimpse of his hand getting closer to yours but that isn’t enough for you to look away.

why would someone look attractive with a beaten face? that doesn't make any sense.

seeing him in this state, bruises, messy hair, intense gaze, flushed face, makes you want to hug him, ask him what was wrong, tell him you were here for him.

however, right when you think he is going to say something or reach for your hand and hold it...

"guess who just ate two big delicious menus-"

juyeong.

the second your brother lays eyes on seojun sitting super close to you, his eyes widen in horror.

"o-oh adult business, i get it. i'll leave now. bye, hyung!"

yet, of course, before leaving your room he doesn’t miss the chance to make gagging noises.

"and y/n, sadly, there wasn't enough food for you."

his fake pout makes you want to throw your slipper at him but you just close your eyes for a second and exhale, trying to remain calm.

seojun only chuckles with amusement.

"mum! y/n and seojun hyung are a couple again. can she move out now?"

juyeong’s annoying voice can be heard all the way too my room. embarrassed, you glance at seojun, who is obviously trying to hold in his laugh.

"i'm sorry for my brother."

"you don't need to be."

"a-anyways, are you better now? i mean your bruises?" you stammer while pointing at his face, wanting to ignore what just happened.

"yeah, a lot better. thank you."

he trails off, eyes darting through the room,

"i-i should probably leave now."

right, your stupid self forgot to ask him about his mum.

"i heard about your mum. i hope she's doing better?"

“thankfully, she is. it's a little difficult for us but we’re going through this."

“hopefully she’ll feel better soon. i’m sure you’re taking good care of her,”

you’re always like that. caring about others more than yourself.

“if you need anything, i’m here.”

he smiles genuinely, “thank you.“

and that's when he leaves.

the sun shines outside the next day. but instead of going out and enjoying the nice weather like other normal people, you lay on your bed while thinking about the previous day. strangely, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way seojun made you feel.

why did your heart race? why were you left speechless?

in the corner of your mind, there’s been an explanation for your weird feelings for your childhood friend. although, you’ve always tried to ignore it and distract yourself.

but now, thinking about all the times seojun made your heart flutter, it just made sense.

you like him.

“no!”

with widen eyes you swiftly stand up, not believing yourself.

it couldn’t be, right? everyone feels this way to their friend at some point of their friendship, no?

but the thing is: you’ve been feeling like this the whole time.

letting yourself fall on your bed, you scream into your pillow.

you like han seojun.

and there’s no way your former frenemy likes you back.

it’s another school morning as you walk into your class. this time however, you’re nervous to enter the room. after all, you’ll have to be around the one person you now feel nervous talking to. what if he notices your odd behavior. praying that he won’t approach you in a way that made your heart flutter, you eventually enter the classroom.

however, it seems like the universe is making fun of you when you’re met with something hundred times worse the moment you step into the room. instantly, all eyes land on you and all you hear are cheers and screams from your classmates,

“congratulations on dating, y/n and seojun!”

“you’re so cute together!”

“y/n and seojun sitting on a tree!”

at the sight of chorong and his group wearing t-shirts with your shipname printed on them, your eyes widen in horror. they think you’re dating han seojun?!

“why didn’t you tell me anything? i’m your close friend after all!”

sua pouts, hitting your arm playfully while your eyes are still glued on the ridiculous t-shirts.

“is it true, y/n?”,

from the corner of your eye you see soojin giving you a teasing smile.

“listen, guys. there has been a huge misunderstanding.”,

when you can finally focus on your friends, who surround you with curious looks, han seojun enters the classroom, completely unaware of what’s happening right now.

the young boy frowns at chorong after setting his bag on his table. yet soon his confused face changes to a shocked one, as he eventually notices the t-shirts, everyone congratulating him with cheerful laughter.

turning his head to you, he notices your helpless look while you tilt your head to the side. totally surprised by everything, seojun has no clue how to act at the beginning.

finally, both of you manage to stand in front of the class, facing your classmates as they continue asking several questions,

“since when have you been dating?”

“no way! did anything happen during the school trip?”

“tell us the truth!”

frustrated, you move your hands in the air, trying to speak with a loud tone so that everyone can understand you,

“i don’t know how you came up with this rumor but seojun and me are only friends, okay?”

hearing your statement, everyone groans at the same time, not believing you at all,

“it’s so obvious! just tell us the truth.”

letting out a sigh, you turn your head to face seojun with an annoyed look,

“could you at least say something?”

however, seojun only raises his eyebrows before taking his hands out of his pockets,

“would you hate it that much?”

his sentence makes you frown and multiple questions appear in your head. not quite understanding his point, you continue staring at him with furrowed eyebrows before he finally slams his hand on the desk in front of him, catching everyone’s attention,

“you guys better stop spreading all those rumors around. she’s only my friend...,”

disappointed, many students groan before going back to their seats while others still don’t seem to believe seojun and shake their heads in denial.

seojun bends down to your height so that his face is only a few inches apart from yours before whispering with one eyebrow raised,

“...right?”

nervously you blink, sadness starting to grow inside you after hearing his words. of course, he only considers you as his friend. there’s no way he would see you as something more.

friday nights are always the same for you: watching your current favorite tv show while snacking on whatever you have at home. whereas other people from your grade probably club somewhere.

that night your phone rings and an unknown number appears on the screen. thinking it’s a stupid prank, you pick it up with an annoyed sigh.

"hello?"

"hello. is this y/n?"

"yes. who am i talking to?"

there is a short silence before the unknown person starts talking again,

"look, i work at this club near your neighborhood and this dude randomly passed out here. i found your number on his phone so i thought of calling you. can you maybe come and get him? he's seriously wasted a– dude, what the hell, stop spilling all the drinks!"

"i'm sorry but who are you talking about?"

you heard the unknown man mumble before answering, "seojung? seung- seojun?"

"han seojun?"

"yes! that's his name."

a short silence takes over when you sit up in shock.

"so, are you coming?"

you sigh before replying, "i need the adress.”

the moment you enter that club, you want to return to your house. many people dance on the dance floor, totally wasted. everyone is pressing their bodies against each other's. the loud music makes you feel even more uncomfortable. you look around and let out a relieved sigh when you find a bartender with a phone on his hand.

"hello, i'm here for seojun. the guy who–"

"hey, finally! he's right here."

you follow the man to the other side of the club, where people are sitting on the couches and drinks were sold every minute. it doesn’t take you long to spot seojun sitting on the couch. his eyes are closed but his head is swinging from left to right. you can’t believe your eyes. you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen him in a state like this ever before.

"don't worry. your boyfriend didn't hook up with anyone." the bartender next to you said.

"he's not my boyfriend."

"what are you then?"

"i'm his..." you trail off before answering,

"neighbor! i’m his neighbor!"

seojun shouldn't know that you came to pick him up at this time.

without waiting any longer, you help seojun getting up and wrap his arm around your shoulder. before leaving the club, the bartender reaches you seojun’s phone and makes sure to call a taxi. after thanking him you leave with seojun’s heavy body.

while waiting for the taxi to arrive, seojun keeps rambling stupid things you can’t understand. it’s getting harder for you to stand with him by yourself every minute, so you decide to sit on the bench with him, which is a couple steps away from the bus station.

you let out an exhausted sigh after sitting down and then turn your head towards him. suddenly you grab his face and make him look at you. he smiles like an idiot after you brush his bangs away from his forehead. his cheeks are extremely red, his lips pouting slightly and his eyes struggling not to close. your cold hands hold his warm, soft cheeks while you analyze his expressions. you have to admit: seojun looks cute.

after a few seconds he suddenly frowns. he narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side slightly, looks you up and down considerately before asking,

"who are you?"

“you don't know who i am?"

"hmmm..." he rubs his chin carefully, acting like he’s solving a mystery,

"no."

"good."

"you're telling me that that's fine?" seojun giggles and covers his mouth.

"yes, absolutely."

"alright! i'm han seojun. who are you?" he stretches his hand out for you to shake.

"does that matter?”

“of course! who are you, young lady?”

"that's not important right now. what matters is that you're extremely drunk. what were you doing here?"

"you're rude!" he pouts and crosses his arms,

"you won't even tell me your name."

"why are you acting so childish?"

"i-i don't know."

"never mind. that's fine."

"really?!"

"yeah, you're good."

you notice how his lips form a small smile,

"you're nice and then rude and then nice and then- you remind me of someone you know?"

yes, that's you.

"my friend y/n."

"oh, really?" you sarcastically laugh.

"yeah! she's like you. but prettier. like so much prettier. she’s pretty."

"that doesn't even make sense."

"huh?" seojun asks confused.

oh no, why do you have to be so cute.

"actually, it’s hard for me to be her friend." suddenly he’s all sad,

"sometimes i cross the line and don’t know my limits. but she's so dumb and stubborn!"

"and why is that?” frowning, you cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting for his response.

he only sighs with tiredness, "never mind–"

and then he falls asleep on your shoulder.

finally you arrive at seojun’s house and fortunately all the lights are out. with his heavy body pressing to your small one, you struggle to carry him up the stairs. quietly, the door is opened by you before seojun falls into his bed. your head starts hurting, which makes you sit down next to him and massage your temples. however, you help seojun standing up and carry him to the bathroom carefully, in order to wash his face. he lets you take off his jacket and his shoes. finally he lays down on his back, with his face facing the ceiling.

"don't lie on your back." you demand.

"hm?" seojun’s eyes are firmly closed when he mutters with tiredness.

"lie on your side." you pull his body to the side, so that he could face you.

definitely, his facials expressions change. his lips are no longer pouted, his eyes extremely tired, his cheeks pale. from analyzing his face once again, you fail to notice him staring at you with his eyebrows drawn together. soon his confused expression changes to a sad one when you cover his body with his bed sheets.

"i'm sorry." seojun mutters suddenly. you expect him to continue, as he grabs both of your hands and slightly pulls you closer to him. a shiver goes down your spine.

"y/n, you deserve better."

he knows it’s you?

"i know i treated badly but i need you."

his eyes are barely opened, his words barely understandable. your hands start shivering as his grip tightens.

"i-i should go."

"no! please stay here." he rambles drunkly.

you decide to stay a little longer, just until he would fall asleep and hopefully forget everything that has happened this night.

“i mi..."

you aren’t able to understand his quiet mumbling, so you lean in a little,

“what did you say?"

“i miss y/n."

silence takes over the room before you finally reply,

“i missed you too, seojun-ah.”

your words make him open his eyes immediately. with a surprised face he tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes,

"y/n?"

instead of saying anything, you hold his hand while he’s still questioning your identity. all of the sudden his hands leave yours to grab your face. without waiting too long he pulls your face closer to his. instantly, your eyes widen when you notice the small gap between your noses. intensively, he looks into your eyes. so many emotions can be read from his look, yet you can’t figure out what he‘s feeling exactly. they have the most beautiful brown color you have ever seen. so deep, that you could get lost in them. only seconds pass, but it still feels like you were staring at each other for an eternity. you can even feel his soft breath on your face, which causes your ears to turn a dark shade of crimson.

seojun then glances at your lips before looking back into your eyes again. without waiting any longer he presses your lips together, one hand holding your cheek while the other grabs your waist. you let out a small gasp, your eyes remain closed, your whole body frozen. is this really happening?

when you’re finally able to kiss him back and hold firmly into his shoulders, he tilts your head, deepening the kiss. you feel your heart beating thousand times faster, almost exploding in your chest, as his soft lips press against yours. your face is glowing when you eventually wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, unable to resist the warm feeling. without doubt, you are sure that you've never felt something like this before.

seojun slowly pulls back when he feels your fingers softly tugging at his hair, leaving a small gap between your lips. you feel his breath on your face when he hums something before his lips meet yours for the second time, not giving you enough time to open your eyes,

“hmm, strawberries.”

feeling his lips forming a small smile, your heart is about to explode in your chest. seojun was insanly drunk but clearly enjoys the taste of strawberry lip balm, brushing his thumb over your cheek softly.

soon you break the kiss only to find seojun falling asleep on his bed seconds later. not believing what just happened you stare at him, admiring his features before panic takes over you and you rush out of his house.

would he remember any of this tomorrow?

to be continued...

(p.s: sorry for making you wait for so long🥺)

#han seojun #seojun #humph #true beauty #hwang inyeop #han seojun imagine #han seojun imagines #han seojun x reader #han seojun fluff #seojun x reader #seojun fluff #seojun imagine #seojun imagines #scenarios #fanfiction

628 notes · View notes

sugamamacustard · 3 years

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Let Me Help You (Part. 2)

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Issei Matsukawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Takahiro Hanamaki x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Hurt/comfort.

Request: Oh boy, here we go!

Anon: hi!! can we get more of the omega depression drabbles/one shots? i would really like to see mattsun’s version and other characters you can think of!! the more angsty the better ;)p.s. luv your writing <3 also stay healthy, safe, and drink water !!

Anon: Can you make part 2 of let me help you please. if not it’s fine with Mattsun and Makki

Anon: Could you do part 2 for the let me help you with makki and mattsun please if not that’s fine this is also my first time requesting something so i’m kinda nervous💕

(Don’t be nervous at all, you did amazing!)

Anon: Mamas, can I order a continuation of let me help you?? Please?? I need some fluff after that hurt 💕💕💕🥺🥺🥺

(Mamas anon! :DDD)

Anon: omg i love the omega depression!! please continue with the rest of the third years or a pt 2 with oikawa’s !! i love your writing!!

@bohica160: Could we possibly get a part 2 with Oikawa please? 👉 👈 🥺

And I think that was all? You guys just really wanted this, and who am I to deny you?

Summary: Because of unseen circumstances, you drop, and you drop hard. How does your alpha help you/redeem himself?

Author’s Note: I kinda wanna post some self-indulgent OC stuff on here, but idk. It’s kinda crack-y and stupid. Also, we love to see a healthy relationship. Like Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s are so soft. Also, also, please note Hanamaki’s is heavily based off of my own experience with depression and the events after with my best friend, whom I will love and cherish forever.

Requests: Open!

Part 1: Here!

➵ You drop was actually out of anyone’s control.

➵ Omega drops rely heavily on hormone balances, much like depression, and it seemed like this month just wasn’t your month.

➵It was hard to exactly pin point when it got bad, or when you started experiencing symptoms, as they were slow and not necessarily noticeable.

➵A missed lunch here, a small scent shift there.

➵Small things that neither you nor Takahiro would notice.

➵It was much like a rollercoaster, inching higher and higher until the drop would come.

➵ Honestly, both of you thought you were fine, and since you were around both of your mutual friends (The Seijoh Team) enough no one could really point it out.

➵ It truly was a bad situation all around.

➵ You only really began noticing after a few days of ignoring lunch in a row.

➵ It hit you when you were sitting in the library, stomach clutching with hunger as you scanned through a textbook.

➵ You attempted to get up and go find Takahiro to go get something to eat, but you just...didn’t.

➵ You couldn’t find the energy to stand, much less walk, and just stayed seated

➵ You just couldn’t move.

➵Like a million bags of sand were tied to your hips weighing you to the chair.

➵ You swallowed tightly, rolling your shoulders before stuffing your text book into your bag, trying to breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.

➵Deep breaths. Thats what you needed to focus on right now.

➵ But then you couldn’t. You were hyperventilating, and white-knuckling the edge of the table as your vision turned blurry and watery.

➵ The cramping from your hunger combined with the sudden rush of emotions made you want to vomit.

➵ Before you could, you slung your backpack over your shoulder, bolting out of the library.

___

Laughter and chuckles were heavy as Takahiro gave a hearty chuckle at something Matsukawa said, shaking his head before taking a swig from his energy drink. His eyes darted to his phone every now and again, just checking to make sure you didn’t need him.

You would always come first to him.

When his screen lit up with your beaming face shining up at him, he quickly swiped to accept holding it to his ear, watching while the team laughed at Oikawa, who was shielding himself from Iwaizumi.

“Hiro?”

“Shooting star?” His brows furrowed as he slowly began cleaning his stuff, straightening himself up so he could leave as soon as possible if you needed him; which, guessing by your home, you did.

“I-I think something’s wrong.” You paused, making his heart drop. “I don’t know, but I think I need to go to the doctor, but, I know this is a lot so feel free to say no, can you-”

He didn’t let you finish. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come pick you up and drive you. Do you need me to call and book an appointment?”

A few of his packmates turned with worried eyes, trying to send a non-verbal question. Well, for most of them. Oikawa was trying to whisper-yell his questions, Iwaizumi trying to shut him up.

“I’m at the front of the school. I’ll just meet you at your car.”

“I’ll be right there, shooting star. Stay safe, okay? I love you, and I’ll see you soon Omega.” Takahiro waited for your reciprocation and own farewell before hanging up, quickly standing and swinging his leg over the bench and grabbing his bag.

“Makki-kun, is Y/N-chan okay?!” Oikawa screeched after him, actively crawling onto Iwaizumi, who looked like he was ready to commit first-degree murder.

Makki threw up a thumbs up behind him, waiting till he was out of the cafeteria before sprinting towards the parking lot.

He hoped, with every inch of his body, he didn’t lie to his captain.

___

“Take your pills.”

“Alpha, they taste horrid-”

“I don’t care, they make you feel better.”

Takahiro watched you carefully, handing you two of the teal and white pills. The alpha was strict on very few things with you, but your health he did not fuck with.

The appointment with your doctor went fine, with minimal blood work done, and you were sent off with a prescription for hormone balancing pills. You and Takahiro (Who was absolutely divine during the entire thing) were explained how the pills worked and why you dropped, all of which was simple enough to understand. Since then, Takahiro was insistent on you taking the pills in front of him.

“Open.” Takahiro demanded, watching as you stuck your tongue out. He moved your head by your chin, checking the very corners of your mouth. “Lift your tongue.”

You did so, showing nothing. He hummed in approval, letting go of your chin before pausing, pulling you close so you could hear his heartbeat.

“Thank you for caring, Hiro.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling into your alpha’s neck, taking in his scent.

“Thank you for telling me about this and letting me help you.” He responded, pressing a sweet peck to your temple and reminding himself you were still here in his arms. And would be with him for a long, long time.

➵ Your drop was a mix between miscommunication and little whispers in your ear.

➵ Honestly, there was a reason you were in a pack with minimal other omegas.

➵ They grew catty and mean and vindictive if there was something they didn’t like.

➵It was one of their many flaws and strengths.

➵You yourself had caught yourself bad-mouthing another omega to your alpha every now and again.

➵ Though you hated doing it, at some point it was just second nature.

➵ You and Issei had good communication though, and very rarely did something as silly as jealousy come between you two.

➵ whenever something was bothering you or your alpha you would talk it out.

➵ You both trusted each other completely.

➵ If something felt off about another person, you were quick to mention it to the other.

➵ However, sometimes things got complicated.

➵ Insecurities seeped through your walls that Issei kept strong for you.

➵And sometimes, small little whispers became hurdles and boulders pounding against your defenses and breaking them down.

➵Leaving you open and stumbling.

➵ And sometimes, because of this you forgot that you had back-up, an artillery that would fight for you at the drop of a hat.

➵ And those moments, that ones were you were caught with your tail between your legs and ass in the air waiting to be fucked over, were when you truly crumbled.

➵And though it broke you down and made you hurt, your artillery had your back.

___

“Issei, I was-”

You bit your tongue as you were roughly shoved to the side by Akina Harakashi, the omega throwing herself at your alpha. His face remained unmoved and his arms by his side.

She was his science partner for the semester, and though Issei reassured you she was nothing more, you couldn’t help but internally whine at how she acted with him. It was no secret that she liked him, but since you and Issei kept you relationship on the down low, rumors were bound to pop up.

And though you didn’t let it show, they poked and prodded at you. Make your skin crawl as you ventured deep into your own mindset. Thoughts that would plague your every move and drive your omega into overdrive as they tried fixing whatever you picked on in your own reflection.

You shivered as she looked up to Matsukawa, who was busy focusing on entering his locker combo.

“Mattsunnnn~ I’ve missed you!” Her voice was literal nails on a chalkboard to you.

“I saw you twenty minutes ago.” Matsukawa hissed as his locker popped open. “I haven’t seen you recently though, pretty thing.”

Your omega purred as Issei grabbed his textbook, closing his locker and pushing past Akina. He smirked down at you, intertwining your pinkies in the most discreet way possible before walking you to class.

You glossed over his question when he asked you how lunch went.

___

“Do you think Harakashi and Matsukawa are dating?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, have you seen how she hangs off of him?”

“I think they’d make such a cute couple!”

“If Matsukawa doesn’t ask her out soon, he’ll loose her.”

You kept your head down and scent blocking collar tight as you slowly crept through the hallway, exit in front of you. Honestly, you didn’t have the energy to continue on with the day, so you were leaving it the midst of lunch, where you could loose yourself in the crowd and disappear.

You wanted nothing more than your alpha, but his last message had your eyes stinging.

‘Harakashi asked me to meet her at lunch, so I won’t be able to see you. Eat something. At this point, I’ll even take junk food. Just get some food. I’ll see you after school.’

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did, but it stung you deeply. This was it. This was the downfall of your and your alpha’s relationship. You were blown off for Akina Harakashi at long last.

The rational part of you wanted to defend Matsukawa, but every time you tried, the insecurities that had been bubbling within you spit towards the rational part of you and your omega, throwing any redeeming thought into the corner to rot.

A part of you was angry. Angry with Matsukawa for letting this happen. Angry with yourself for not speaking up. Angry with your fucking stomach which groaned for food of any sort. Livid with Akina for trying to steal Mattsun.

Angry at the world.

You couldn’t really remember the last time you ate anything besides...air. The days all blurred together in one miserable run.

“What did I say?”

You glanced over at Matsukawa, heart leaping at the jump he gave you appearing out of nowhere, leaning on the wall beside you. You huffed, turning away from him and leaving him to follow after you. He did so, jogging a bit to catch up.

“You said I’d see you after school. This is not after school.” You snapped, growling at the alpha. He raised a brow, either in disbelief at your attitude or amusement.

“Omega. I said eat. This doesn’t look like eating.” His longer legs gave him the chance to cut in front of you, face now set in anger.

“You also said you had to meet with Harakashi. So scurry along to your new play thing.” You shoved past Matsukawa, trying to ignore the stinging in your eyes.

“What are you talking about?!” Issei smartened up, grabbing your wrist when you tried leaving him behind yet again, now visibly irritated. Truth be told, he was meeting up with Harakashi to put an end to her insistent clinginess. To put her in her place, beneath you.

She tried confessing to him before he even looked up, coming into the room with her arms outstretched already, yelling about ‘I knew you felt the same’ or something . He dodged her, sneering down at her and snapping at her to leave him alone or he’d go through the semester alone (Which he already talked to the teacher about, but she didn’t need to know about that).

Hanamaki had been his eyes when he wasn’t there, reporting back to Matsukawa with updates on you. His latest? You had been missing from lunch for the better part of the week, and last he saw you were ditching the last half of this day.

Which Matsukawa wasn’t letting happen, because if you went home right now, you wouldn’t come back. And he couldn’t live with himself if he let you drop.

“I was meeting with Harakashi to tell her to piss off. You’re my omega. Why in the hell would I even want someone like her when I already have you? You are mine, and I fought for you. I don’t need a corner worker.”

Any fight you had in you disappeared when you saw the small tears glazing your alphas eyes, making your own break free as you ran into his chest. His arms locked around you, holding as if you would slip away if his grip loosened.

Which you just might’ve. Good thing he wasn’t planning on letting you slip.

“Wanna go get food?”

“...Yea. Can we get nuggets?”

“Anything for my pretty omega.”

➵ Okay this one is super short, and I’m sorry! I just wanted to get this out for you guys!

➵ And I think you guys wanted a follow up of sorts for Oikawa.

➵So here it is!

➵ Things didn’t improve over night.

➵It took awhile, but it was worth it.

➵ In time you and Oikawa reached a nice equilibrium.

➵ He wore his bond mark loud and proud and you made sure to tell him when you were uncomfortable with his fangirls and how close they were getting.

➵ In turn, you learned to slowly let go of any reservations you had on his loyalty.

➵He wouldn’t have marked you if he didn’t want to devote his entire being to you.

➵ This showed up when a girl, who you despised (With no hard feelings, since she hated you just as much) tried confessing to Oikawa.

➵Toru, baby boy, shut her down the minute she opened her mouth.

➵ He didn’t even look her way, instead searching for you and quickly brightening up when he saw you.

➵ If he had a tail it would’ve been wagging.

➵ Things improved and everyone was all the better for it.

➵ And Toru made sure to, not only apologize to Iwaizumi, but gift him a voucher for a free movie for him and his omega (who was having a hard time as well).

➵Things were looking up and you both were sure to keep it that way!

___

“Kentaro, please don’t hurt Kindaichi!” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as you tried to stop the alphas from snapping on each other.

It wasn’t that Kyoutani didn’t like or respect you, because he did-- you were like a second mom, but Kindaichi just got on every single one of his nerves. And then tried dragging you into it! Like, the audacity of this bitch.

“Kyoutani!” Your alpha’s bark had both the blond and raven pausing, a careful glance making both back down as Oikawa heading towards you guys (Throwing a pile of confession letters into the trash on his way by without even looking; some point they would get the hint if he left the blatantly in the open).

The blond growled lowly, sending you a quick glance before returning to practice. Oikawa let him, turning his glare to the instigator of the whole thing. The onion-headed pup hid behind your smaller frame, making your laugh.

It was almost like that moment when dad’s pulled out their ‘behave or else’ voice. And in a way it was.

“One of these days my pretty dove won’t be there to save you, Kindaichi.”

“I know.”

You and Oikawa sent a look to each before you laughed, moving so Oikawa and Kindaichi could have a ‘man to man’ talk.

The pack was dysfunctional, and you almost let it go.

You were thankful you didn’t and still had this family to come back home too. All thanks to your alpha.

“STOP MAKING GOO-GOO EYES AT YOUR OMEGA SHITTY-KAWA.”

“I can’t help it, Iwa- IWA STOP HITTING ME- Y/N HELP-”

You shook your head laughing, jogging to save said alpha.

He was childish and arrogant, and sometimes got too far up his own ass, but he was yours. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

865 notes · View notes

zuluc · 4 years

Text

@ukiiyo requested: so ive become a major diluc simp and i was wondering, could i get a scenario of diluc getting jealous that his s/o hangs out more with kaeya than with him? just need me some wholesome diluc fluff🥺👉👈

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: diluc’s jealous haha, kind of suggestive at the end :p

notes: i too have fallen down the hole of simping for diluc and i regret nothing,,, anyways i like this scenario because it got me thinking of how exactly he would react (ft. kaeya noticing and fanning the flames of jealousy [aHA get it]) and i’m hERE for it; i hope you like it!

The first time it happens, Diluc is mildly annoyed from having his time with you shortened.

He’s already staring holes into Kaeya the moment he steps into the tavern. His brother, or rather adopted brother, has a cheeky grin on his face when he pulls out the stool next to you, abruptly interrupting your conversation with Diluc. You weren’t talking about anything in particular, just a casual conversation that Kaeya did not hesitate to bring you out of.

“Say, y/n,” he leans in closer to you with his chin resting in his palm, “would you like to accompany me to Springvale?”He looks at you expectantly before quickly darting his gaze to Diluc and back to you. The tavern owner raises a brow.

“What business do you have there, anyways? And with them, no less.” He places the glass he was cleaning on the counter and glares straight ahead.

“Don’t worry over it,” Kaeya says simply, “come now, y/n, before it gets too dark.” He stands up and makes his way out the door, his hand waving in behind him. You give Diluc an apologetic look and look at the side at the people in the tavern. They’ve been drinking away all night and should be a little too disoriented to know what is going on.

But it wasn’t like they weren’t aware about what was going on between you two.

You lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek and pull back, “I’ll see you later.” You hop off the stool and follow Kaeya. Diluc clicks his tongue in annoyance, Charles coming up behind him just in time to see your figure leave out the door.

“Oh,” the older man says, “I thought they’d be staying longer.”

“Hm,” Diluc only returns to cleaning the glass, unaware of the knowing look Charles is giving him.

The second time is when he’s walking around Mondstadt. And he is aware but does not accept it for the sake of his pride.

Diluc expected to see you as you also had business with the knights, something he was a bit skeptical about, but what he didn’t expect is for you to be hanging around the cryo holder again.

Your face is bright and you’re laughing at something the male says as you both walk to Good Hunter. You don’t notice someone staring at you, but Kaeya does. Being the ever-so cunning, Kaeya smirks at the redhead and ushers you to take a seat at the table. Diluc cannot visibly hide his annoyance this time and there’s a pang in his chest.

Oh, no. Not because of him of all people...

You didn’t visit him again after the night at the tavern and it had been a few days since, only greeting him when you pass by in the streets when all he wants to do is wrap you in his arms. And now the annoying one is hogging all your attention?

He is about to approach the both of you until Kaeya his hands on your shoulders, making you face him. Diluc steps back and scoffs.

He had plans for the day anyways. The Abyss Mages weren’t going to kill themselves off, right? He internally rolls his eyes at the thought and turns around to pass by the general store and out the side entrance.

“Are you sure it’s going to work? It’s nice right? He’ll like it?” You’re bombarding the knight with numerous questions and he can’t but sigh. Kaeya places his hands on your shoulders to stop you from rambling on again. It was cute that you were so worried over doing something for Diluc after all.

It was simple: it’s his birthday soon and you wanted to plan something special. You wanted to cook for him and travelling around the towns (Xiangling had left for Liyue a few days ago and you had no time to get there, ask for assistance, and get back). Neither Lisa nor Amber had much interaction with Diluc and Jean kept everything to a professional level. The only one that you could have thought of to help out was Kaeya since they were “close” to say the least.

Luckily, he was more than happy to assist.

“Yes, yes, and yes. I’ll tell you now, he’ll appreciate it, especially if it comes from you,” he looks to the side to see that Diluc is gone.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, also turning your attention to the area Kaeya is looking towards.

“No, nothing. Let’s finalize what you have, shall we?”

The third and final time is when he’d had it. There’s no denying that there’s something else going on.

You’ve been actively avoiding him now, making up excuses of helping clear out slimes near the bridge or things like that. Diluc only nods in response when you rush past him, but can see out the window that you’re meeting up with Kaeya.

Needless to say, he is in a bad mood.

There are numerous tasks for him to finish at the winery and even if he wanted to see you he couldn’t since he wasn’t in town. The only thing he’s hanging onto are the words you say to him before he leaves.

“Come to my home later, there’s something I want to show you!” You sounded excited and so proud of yourself that he couldn’t refuse.

Well, he couldn’t refuse anything you asked of him anyways.

The day felt long and his patience was wearing thin. The last paper on his desk is finally placed neatly atop the pile he worked through for countless hours. Diluc sighs before cleaning up to arrive quickly into town to be able to see you faster. You always make his days better and the sight of your face relaxes the tension he holds in his shoulders.

He makes it to Mondstadt in record time and your house is close, all the while he can hear some of the townspeople greet him. But apparently he’s only aware of the “Good evenings” or “hellos” not the “Happy day of your birth!”

You come into his view, then he sees Kaeya next to you.

At this point all self-control has gone out the window and he makes no eye contact with the other male before pulling you by the wrist and into your house. You are shocked, especially when Kaeya winks from behind Diluc before the door closes.

“Diluc--”

“What have you been doing with him?” His voice sends chills down your back as his gaze holds yours steadily. You try to look at the walls, or anywhere, instead of his eyes but he holds your chin to make you look at him. He has you backed up against the wall, his other hand still holding onto your wrist.

Diluc is suddenly aware of a certain aroma in your house and he eyes you suspiciously, turning his head to look behind him. There on your dining table was an immaculate dinner. You took many hours to make the food and make it look pretty all for this moment.

“Uh...happy birthday?” You supply sheepishly when he diverts his attention back to you. He holds yet another staring contest before resting his face in your neck.

“I figured you were getting too close to him...” he mumbles, letting go of you wrist to wrap both of his arms around you. You reciprocate the action, still confused at his sudden change in tone.

“I just wanted to make you something nice,” you say in a quiet voice. He pulls back, a soft smile on his face as he kisses your forehead.

“Thank you,” but he’s still a little peeved, “but why him?”

Then you put the pieces together, a smile on your face forming. He never outright said anything about this, never being the person to share his feelings so quickly, and you wanted to see how he would respond. “Were you perhaps, jealous?”

He doesn’t say anything and you think you took it too far, but he elicits a gasp from you when he lifts you by holding your thighs, pressing you against the wall. Well, it was a while since he was with you.

“Yes,” he whispers into your ear,

“...very.”

His grip on you is strong and you look longingly at your hard work.

The food ended up becoming cold.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc

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mvttsvn · 3 years

Text

Useless [pt1]

Modern college!au

toxic Eren x gn!reader

warnings: angst, explicit themes, dubcon, embarrassment, manipulation, degradation, OOC, cussing, and typos

authors note: this has been sittin in my drafts for months I just haven’t had the motivation to finish. there will be a part 2 with smut I just wanted to get this out first.

part 2

Eren liked to think he was a pretty simple guy. He’d meet someone, use them for his benefit, lead them on till he didn’t need them anymore, then disappear. A sick trick that he used to manipulate all kinds of people. Life really can be easy with the right looks and a smooth voice. He and only ever got what he needed. He understands how selfish it is. But gotten him this far, so what would be the point in changing.

Unfortunately, you had been one of the unlucky few to get caught up in his schemes. Let’s be honest it wasn’t a surprise, you knew of him before. A few of your friends pinned over him for being the cute nicotine-addicted guy who couldn’t care less about World Literature 1-2. But you believed each and everyone of of his sweet little promises. “No you’re so special, I think I’m gonna keep you around for a long time sweetheart.” Deception dripping from his lips as he gave you a sinful grin.

You should’ve known...

It’s been a few months now since Eren blocked and deleted your number for his phone, the last time you spoke was when he texted you to thank you for helping him pass his English final. You replied with asking if he wanted to get lunch the following day only to be left with your text never going through. That motherfucker. Of course you were angry, mostly at yourself though. You tried not to sulk about it yet every time you’d go out you’d dress up a little then you would usually just in case you’d see him. And luckily he wasn’t in any of your classes this semester either so it would be easier to forget him.

At this point you haven’t thought of Eren in weeks, you’ve focused yourself in uni and started taking assignments and things more seriously. That was until one of Eren’s roommates unknowingly took a seat next to you in your intro to ethics course.

You’ve been to Eren’s apartment a multitude of times. You knew who his roommates were, even after having a few conversations in the late morning with them after you would spend the night. Armin, who was too engrossed from whatever was on his phone plopped his books right next to you and took a seat not sparing you a glance. Once you professor started speaking he locked his phone slipping it into his pocket and glance around the room. Once he looked at you his blue eye widened and he sorta whispered “oh hey! y/n didn’t know you were in here”

You shrugged and gave a polite smile while turning back to look at the front of the room to stare through one of the windows above the projector screen. It’s not like you hated Armin, he was very kind and never judged you when you’d take the walk of shame in the morning through Eren’s kitchen, it’s just you know that this interaction would eventually lead back to him and that made you nervous.

A week or two passed and Armin continued to sit next you, you supposed it was more comfortable for him because it didn’t look like he knew anyone else in this class, neither did you. Nor were you complaining he’d give you notes and lend you his book when you would forget. Not much conversation would happen between you either, a simple hello and other small talk would occur nothing more. A very professional relationship.

Yet when your professor assigned a partner projects you and Armin both looked at each other like :| and silently agreed to work together. It was just easier that way. The assignment wasn’t due for another 2 weeks so you had confidence that you wouldn’t have to grind at the end of the this week to do it. Until Armin caught your arm as you were leaving.

“Hey sorry to ask but would it be ok if we could work on this after school? I have a lot of stuff due this week and I’m in a bit of a time crunch.” He shyly laughed hoping you weren’t busy.

You held in a sigh “Uhh sure, can I meet you at 5 tho..I have a thing-”.

“Yeah! That’d be fine, my place?”

You kinda really didn’t want to go to his place, “yea!”

You both continued listening to your teacher’s lecture while your mind was elsewhere, you didn’t have anything after school you just wanted to go home for a bit and prepare for who you may or may not see at Eren’s Armins apartment. By the end of the day you raced home, flopping onto your bed, this was a bad idea, why didn’t you just ask for him to meet at the library or something?? This situation could’ve been a whole lot simpler if you just offered your place instead. Hell you don’t have any unconventional roommates you sleep with him so it’s just unfair. At 4:45 you gather your things and drove over to Armin’s apartment. You knocked on the door, your nerves going haywire.

You’re greeted by Armin he smiled and opened the door for you letting you walk inside. You took a glance to the side and luckily Eren’s familiar beat up tennis shoes weren’t by the door. At least you could relax for a little while, hopefully he wouldn’t come home till you were gone.

Jean was sitting on the couch watching some action movie at a low volume with Connie who was fast asleep curled up with a throw pillow. The lights in the living room were dim with the curtains on the windows shut. Yet you could still see from the light in the kitchen that shone from above the counter. Jean gave you a nod, “welcome back” he half whispered as he tipped his drink at you. You smiled and waved and made your way into Armin’s room. You sat at the edge of his desk in a borrowed kitchen chair, as he joined you sitting in his computer chair in front of his desktop. He left his door slightly ajar letting you see right through into the kitchen and front door, which made you slightly on edge. Armin started going over the project, opening a document, and reading through a few paragraphs. You tried your best you to concentrate but you were too paranoid. Every so often a loud noise from Jean’s movie on the tv would make you whip your head towards the door. About an hour in you and Armin had crunched through about a few paragraphs and of your project, to Armin’s mistake you guys definitely weren’t going to finish tonight. Hopefully the next time you’d offer your place instead.

After another 30 minutes you and Armin gave up, eventually you guys made your way back into the living room. You went to the door to gather your things until Jean and Connie basically begged you to stay and watch another movie with them. You didn’t want to, you knew if you stayed any longer the possibility of Eren coming home would increase. But when Connie got up from the couch and handed you a drink, you gave in. As you sat down you began slightly regretting your decision. Why were you staying? You and Armin were finished you can go home.

You asked yourself this when you heard keys jangle outside the door and the click of the lock. It’s roughly pushed open and Eren moves into the room, swiftly locking it behind him. “Hey man” Jean calls, you immediately tense next to Armin and fix a stare at the tv. You’re too aware of your surroundings right now to know what happening but you need a distraction. You can see his movement in your peripheral, Eren saunters in to the dark living room to stand by the opposite of the end of the couch from you. when he spots you, you can feel his blazing stare in your skull, he laughs out a scoff and the room goes silent, except for the low murmur of the tv.

The air is tense and awkward and everybody can see your apprehension. your heart it beating in your ears and you can feel you palms starting to sweat. The sounds of the tv are immediately drowned out when Eren breathes our your name. “What the hell are you doing here?” He grips the arm of the couch and places his left hand on his hip. You slowly turn your head to look him in the eyes when Armin speaks up trying to lighten the situation “We had a project for sadis’ class”

Your eyes dart between Eren and Armin when Eren snides, “hmm...well it doesn’t look like your working on it”

“hey layoff man” Jean gives him a side eye. “Yeah we finished just a few minutes ago.” Armin adds.

“It was just a question” Eren shrugs. You can believe him, he such a fucking asshole, you’re staring at him in disbelief when he meets your eyes again he laughs “what did you miss me or somethin?” His grin is sickening, you feel the embarrassment hot on your face yet what can you do in the situation? If you leave you’ll destroy your pride and yet if you stay what if you give in to him again?

Your frozen in your seat you nails digging shapes into you palms as you clench them together. You feel the stare of everyone one in the room and it makes you want to cry. He tilts his head “can’t you speak? what wrong?” the malice in his voice makes your ears burn. You want to scream, you want to run, but he slowly walks right in front of you and holds out his hand. “C’mon”

You can leave at any moment, the door is only a few feet away yet you cautiously place your palm into his as he hauls you up from your seat. No one says anything as you guys leave the room, what a complicated situation this is huh?

As he opens his door you try to glace back at the others yet he roughly pulls your arm though and slams his bedroom door. You hope they don’t blame you too much for going with him. You stand in the middle of a very familiar room, one you’ve visited many times yet you’re too scared too move from the spot you currently occupy. He turns to face you locking the door behind him and takes a few steps forward. You look at the floor as you begin speaking “Eren I-”

“ohhhh so you can talk?”

“yes’ you puff.

He fits his hand under your chin proceeding to squish your cheeks to face him. “I don’t like you hanging out with them when I’m not around” his hot breath fan your face and you widen your eyes. The audacity. “What do you mean, were not even together anymo-” you voice smothered by his grip.

He tips his head back and see concern in his eyes, its almost like he was hurt by your words, “Yes we are” his eyebrows scrunched together. You go to spit out another sentence when his hand moves to cover you entire mouth, he brings face to your ear, “You wound me y/n, how could you think that? I thought you loved me?” Why does he sounds so genuine? Your mind is fuzzy with confusion, of course he’s lying, you would never in a million years utter those words to him during the short time you were together. Yet the pain in his voice and the grip on your jaw is making you dizzy, his hot breath on your ear and neck are causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

Your smaller hand goes to grip his forearm that's holding your face. He moved to look into your eyes. The dim light from the lamp in the far corner of the room casts a shadow upon his face, yet his deep green eyes seem to glow. He slowly moves his hand away placing it on your shoulder as his free hand moves to your hip. You want to yell at him, ask his why he’s doing this to you, but you place your palm softly onto his chest and drop your head in shame, “I’m sorry..i..I didn’t know” you whispered.

His warm hand goes to caress your cheek and moves into your hair lightly pulling to make you face him. “It’s ok babe, you just have to make it up to me” his chest rumbles underneath your hands as you eye widen. “You can do that, right?” You slowly nod your head and bunch his t-shirt under your fingers. He places a soft kiss on your forehead and lead you towards his bed in the corner of the room. He takes a seat on his dark blue comforter and your stand in front of him. Your hands lightly holding onto his index fingers as he carefully rocks them back and forth. You take another look at his face and see the artificial softness slowly fade away into something dark, and conspiring.

“On your knees babe” his voice sounding rougher than before. You begin another protest but he takes his warm palms and encircles your waist to urge you down. You slowly fall to your knees, your hands on his thighs while digging your nails into his rough jeans. Your mind slowly starts to unfog and start realizing what your doing. Your shame and regret tug at your heart and you feel the tears begin to prick your eyes. You look up at Eren and see the distain in his eyes. He hums and caresses you shoulder. You wept into your chest as you feel the air being stolen from your lungs Eren moves his calloused hand to your throat and tugs to make you look him in the eyes.

Why did you have to be so damn proud?

#eren angst #eren jeager #eren yeager #aot eren #eren imagines #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager x y/n #eren jeager x you #eren fic.📗#useless series.mvt

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aiekerman · 3 years

Text

Medicine - Levi Ackerman

Levi x Reader - fluff

AN: I am not usually a Valentine’s person but here we are. Levi can really get anything out of me. Also, I realise my fic titles seem a little random but I’m titling them after songs that make the vibe in my head - not necessarily based off, just vibes you know. So yeah this is Medicine by The 1975.

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: It’s Valentine’s day and you’re in work at a café all day. But Levi is there to at least provide some eye candy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘He’s so pretty I might pass out,’ Hitch leant over the counter, her chin in her hand as she unabashedly stares across the café at the man sipping at his tea.

His posture is perfect, balancing a book in one hand while his other holds the top of the tea cup delicately to his mouth. He blends into the café atmosphere like he was there upon its creation. The shop is earth toned, plants hanging all over and soft lighting that cast shadows across his bone structure.

He looked pulled straight out of an indie movie.

The air around him was mysterious yet all consuming, You spent the entire shift stealing glances at him every time he was in. Which was most days. However, Sunday’s took the cake, you assumed he didn’t work on Sundays whatever his job was, as he took the luxury of bringing a book in and spending hours planted at the same table. Working through a multitude of tea as he sat in perfect view to act as eye candy for the baristas for the day.

You steal a last glance at him, while restocking the pastry baskets, internally agreeing with Hitch but turning to her and speaking, ‘Is he worth getting yelled at for not doing anything when a manager sees you?’

Hitch gives her an eye roll before standing up as a customer approaches the counter.

In your own head, you silently think that, yes, he absolutely was worth getting yelled at.

Across the café floor, Levi glances from over the top of his cup when he feels a pair of eyes darting in his direction once again. He took a self indulgent moment to look over you as you gently placed the warm croissants in one of the wicker baskets. From your well-loved sneakers that he presumed to be pair reserved for work, up to your head of hair that bounced and swayed along with your steps.

He was a man who found the joy in life through small moments. His first sip of tea in the morning. Running his hand through his hair once it was freshly washed. Spending his Sunday in the café that was an extra few blocks from his apartment so he could steal glances at the beautiful barista. He could never bring himself to properly talk to you though, that would make it the exact opposite of a small moment.

* * * * * * * * *

You enjoyed Valentine’s day. Your day had started with a card arriving from your parents and your friend back home sending a text message thanking her for flowers that you had booked to be delivered.

When you reached the café for the usual Sunday shift you were met by heart shaped bunting criss-crossing around the whole ceiling.

You settled in behind the counter. It was still early, an orange tint hanging on the edges of the sky. And Sunday mornings were quieter than most, people taking their time to get out of bed. You imagined especially on Valentine’s day, couples would spend the early hours wrapped up in their ‘i love you’s and gift giving. Many opting for breakfast in bed rather than a café trip. You sighed at the dreamy thought.

You were single, and happily so. But you were allowed to indulge in the scenario of a coffee and pancakes being brought to you while you awoke slowly.

Were the pancakes accompanied by steel grey eyes and an undercut from time to time? You could neither confirm nor deny.

Still stuck in your daydreams, you hadn’t noticed that exact pair of grey eyes entering the café and approaching the counter.

He took a moment to look you over while it seemed your head was somewhere else. Your hair sat neater than usual, extra makeup seemed to have been applied; your cheeks more rosy than usual. A pink sweater draped around your figure and Levi swore he could smell the fresh laundry scent wafting from it.

His heart deflated slightly. You probably had a Valentine’s date. He scoffed at himself in his own head. Of course you did, one look at you screamed that you were bound to have people flooding your phone. He chose to ignore any time he noticed a customer flirting with you, but it definitely happened.

You leap when Levi lets off a small cough to catch your attention. Your face immediately blaring with heat as you search for words in your head. You often found herself flustered when it came to serving the stoic faced man.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey’

‘What, uh, what can I get you?’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Yes! I’m fine thank you for asking. Ignore my last question by the way I know- uh, I know it’s tea.’

You cut yourself off from rambling. Giving a small nod and beginning to tap on the register screen in front of you, putting through his usual pot of black tea.

You stare at the screen with an unnecessary intensity, trying to focus on the words and wipe the image of Levi delivering your breakfast from her mind. An irrational fear that maybe he was secretly a mind reader brewed in the back of your head. It would explain his constant blank slate of a face, he was constantly processing other’s thoughts.

What was actually running through Levi’s head was how pretty you looked in the glow of the morning sun, your face tinted pink in nervousness.

He only slightly fought off a small smile when you beamed up at him with your sweet voice, ‘I’ll bring it over once it’s ready.’

Levi spent the rest of the morning watching you dart around with drinks and dishes. You did most Sunday mornings solo, smiling at usual customers, rhyming off your catalogue of memorised drinks. Levi felt like a dark cloud hanging over the café, dressed in dark colours in the corner and avoiding conversation. While you were a bright ball of sunshine that seemed to honestly just want to make others smile.

The thought of actually talking to you had his tea cup trembling in his hand.

And so he buried his head deeper into his book, settling for hearing your sweet laugh float around the shop.

You sighed, what was originally a five hour shift extended to ten after Hitch called you begging to cover her half of the day, a last minute Valentine date cropping up or something. And who were you to deny the girl some romance?

Your eyes drifted around the shop, it was now three thirty pm, only an hour and half until it was time to shut. The day had mostly been couples wandering through to pick up a takeaway drink in the midst of a romantic stroll. It was hard to resist a wistful look after them as they huddled together in the February chill.

You shook your head from the thought and continued to restock the muffins, even though it would be unlikely that all would be sold before closing came around.

Standing up your head automatically took a turn in Levi’s direction, this was usually the time he would be due a tea top-up. And on cue he set down his empty cup and glanced up at you.

Two pairs of eyes met and you struggled to fight off the heat rising up your neck under his intense stare. His mouth drops open slightly, barely noticeable from the distance between them.

But you notice, the half inch that his shoulders tense up. The miniscule shake of his book. Your throat is suddenly dry, but manages to croak out, ‘more?’

‘Yes, please,’ the words come almost as a sigh. You hold the electric gaze for another second, before scurrying behind the counter, busying your mind with making up the pot of tea.

You drop it to him wordlessly. Keeping your head down, adrenaline still pumping through you from the previous moment.

The last hour and a half of service passes by easily. You avoid any of your usual indulgent looks at the man in the corner of the café, while you begin closing up.

Levi knows he has to go, he’s closed over his book already, one hand on his jacket that’s been draped over his chair all day.

But he can’t just go. His assumption from the morning has proven wrong - at least so far. You don't seem to have a Valentine’s date. And after your...whatever that was, he’s not about to just leave without so much as a hello.

You stood on the small step ladder, fingers nimbly unpinning the heart shaped decorations when his voice pulled you from your thoughts.

‘Um, thanks for your service today.’ Levi cringes. He swears he sounds like a robot.

‘Oh,’ Kasia stares down at him from atop the ladder, ‘thank you.’

Levi swallows. It’s a start.

‘You don’t usually work this late. On a Sunday.’

‘One of the other girls asked if I could cover her. She got a last minute Valentine date.’

You’ve descended the steps now, standing only a metre away from him. You look him over,

His hands are stuffed deep in his pockets, book tucked tightly under his arm. His usual sleek black hair is slightly messed. You didn’t know but he’d spent the last ten minutes tugging at as he tried to find the right conversation starter.

‘You don’t- uh, you don’t have a date?’

You shake your head softly, a small smile beginning to form across your lips.

‘What about you? Don’t you have a girlfriend you should’ve been with all day?’

‘Do you think if I had a girlfriend I’d be here all day every Sunday?’ He lets out a laugh that could be mistaken for a cough.

‘Oh. I just thought…’

‘Thought what?’

‘I don’t know actually. You’re just, uh…’ you stutter, the phrase you’re just so pretty, balancing on the edge of your tongue. ‘What?’ Levi cringes again, his voice coming out harsher than intended, but he freezes up at the quiet words that escape your mouth.

‘Just really pretty.’

They’re barely a whisper, he thinks he could almost be making it up. His subconscious is dreaming up what he wants to hear. But upon looking up at your face, there’s a fear evident in your eyes. As if the words hadn’t meant to escape.

You next words have more energy behind, ‘I am so sorry. That was so inappropriate.’

‘It’s fine, really. You’re, um, also really pretty.’

You swear if your face could get any hotter it’d melt the chocolate in the cookies. Voice immediately fades away again, ‘thank you.’

‘So is it uhh, just you closing up?’

‘Yeah. Just me.’

‘Do you mind if I wait for you? To walk you home? It’ll be too dark to walk alone by the time you’re finished.’

This time you can’t fight the smile as it consumes your whole face, ‘I’d like that.’

His hand reaches out suddenly and a thumb swipes against your cheek.

His eyes go wide upon realising what he did, ‘you had some chocolate. On your cheek.’

You try to respond. But all you can feel is the tingling left over from his touch. And how you wanna feel it again.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi imagine #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman fic #levi fluff #levi fanfiction #aot x reader #aot imagines #snk x reader #snk imagines

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hurting-fictional-people · 3 years

Text

Betrayal story - part 4

Look, the story has a name (hopefully I’ll come up with a better one later)! And the characters do too!

Anyways, if someone hasn’t seen the picrews (it’s here if you want to), Whumpee is now Liam Beaumont, Caretaker is Chase Raymond and Whumper is Jonah Sharpe. If you have trouble remembering: Caretaker still starts with a C no I totally didn’t give him a name that starts with a C on purpose what are you talking about and I think you’ll get very different vibes from Liam and Jonah haha

CW: electric torture, forced to watch, whumpee held hostage, hurt no comfort (for now), restraints

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot @sunflower1000 @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove @boxofsilence @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince

Part one here, continued from here

Twelve messages wait for Chase when he picks up his phone. All from Jonah, all demanding him to work quicker, to give in new information faster. He purses his lips and takes a deep breath, clutching the new drive he was given to fill.

After so many betrayals, he should be used to the sting that comes along with lying and deceiving. He’s done it before, felt that guilt, drowned in it – and yet he can’t help but hesitate. Liam’s pale lips, creased brows, shallow breaths, sparkle to life in his mind, a painful reminder of what is at stake if he annoys Jonah too much. Right beside Liam’s face, though, are the ones of Chase’s team, his friends, his family, all trusting smiles and loving gazes he cannot ignore. It’s enough for him to type a message and turn off the phone.

Working on it, Chase sends and hopes it is enough to keep the man quiet for at least another day as he turns his computer on and starts erasing from the drive the most meaningful information he’s stolen.

When Jonah bursts into his room, Liam is almost happy to see him. Five days have passed since he’s woken up in a room instead of the cell, and all he’s had since then is loneliness and echoing silence. With the only human interaction he was given being the occasional visit from a nurse who gave him a clinical once-over and refused to so much as look him in the eye, it was no real surprise when his thoughts spiraled out of control, swirling around and sinking down between Chase’s inevitable and yet somehow unexpected betrayal, and his new status as a hostage.

“Doing better?” Jonah asks, leaning against the doorframe. Liam’s heart pounds both in relief and terror at the sound of a voice that isn’t his own.

“Do you care?”

“Getting some rest got your tongue loose, I see.”

“Why are you keeping me here?” That’s the question that’s been eating him alive, disrupting his sleep, watering his fear into a blossoming flower of dread that grows and suffocates any hope that tries to bloom beside it. Each answer Liam’s imagined sounds worst than the last, but if there is truth in any of them, he has to know. To prepare.

“We talked about this already, didn’t we?”

Jonah’s eyes are as cold as he remembers from their few encounters, but this time something lurking there whispers stories of anger and pain to come, and that alone is enough to raise goosebumps along his entire body.

“What do you want to let me go?” What could he have to give a man who is already filthy rich, when Liam has nothing to offer but a cramped apartment and a lot of resentment?

“Nothing you can offer, lovely,” Jonah chuckles. “Fair try, though.”

But nothing about this is fair, in any possible way. “So you are just going to keep me here because you don’t like Chase? I have nothing to do with him, please just let me the fuck go and I won’t even tell anyone, you–“

“Liam, honey, let us clear something up. There is nothing you can do to convince me to let you go. All you can do is comply, and maybe I’ll be merciful if you do, but you are mine for the time being, and there is no one here to help you but me.”

Liam’s reply dies on his tongue, killed by the unrestricted horror the words wash him over with. It doesn’t sound real. Sounds like something he’d watch in a movie, read in a book, hear about on the news. To hear them directed at him and feel the pulsating response from the healing stab wound in his gut, makes him hold his breath and pray to just wake up from this nightmare. When did his life turn into this? Was it when he met Chase? Was it before?

“Now that that’s out of the way, come on, we have somewhere to go today.”

Liam’s stomach drops to the ground, farther, falling and falling to the center of the Earth as he clenches the sheets in his fists and hisses, “Last time you said that, you locked me up until I got an infection.”

“Ha, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Jonah says, raising a brow. Liam doesn’t even blink at the grin playing on his lips. “Don’t worry, love, I don’t make the same mistake twice. We’re having a different kind of fun today. Up now, or I’ll call my men to do it for you.”

Gritting his teeth, Liam pushes the sheets away and slowly stands up, holding his side and fighting a groan, but on his feet without help.

They walk in silence, and neither Jonah nor the guards say anything about how slow he is, or how terribly pitiful he looks stumbling through the hallways. A thousand words speed through his brain, pleading to be heard, but he doesn’t voice any of his questions. Doesn’t think he’d get an answer if he did, anyway.

He is led into a nearly barren room, with only a camera over a tripod standing in front of a wooden chair. A wooden chair surrounded by restraints.

He takes a step back before his brain catches up with the movement, straight against a guards’ chest. Jonah giggles and tuts softly.

Two men grab his arms and drag him to the chair, and the panic suddenly becomes so deep, so all-encompassing, it swallows down his fight. He is pushed down on the chair, the restraints are buckled around him until all Liam can move is his head, and all the while he just sits there, hyperventilating and near to tears, as still as a statue. Watching but never moving, terrified but frozen in place, petrified, and he hates himself for it, even if he knows the feeling should be directed at Jonah and Jonah alone.

“Well, I didn’t know you’d be so pliable, sweetheart,” Jonah mocks, setting the camera up. “I would’ve played with you sooner had I known.”

He parts his lips, but the words refuse to form. Fear envelops each of them before Liam can push them through gritted teeth, and all he does is stare at the guards surrounding him, at the cold stickers being placed on his arms, his shoulders, his hands. Liam shivers, but there’s no air current here.

“Why, why, why are you doing this?” he chokes out. He knows what’s about to happen, has seen it on television enough times to recognize the electrodes, the box placed next to the chair.

“Because Chase pissed me off today,” he shrugs, and a red light blinks to life in front of the camera. Jonah walks toward him, stops in front of the chair, and smiles. Liam’s eyes are blown wide as he stares up at the man. “Has Chase ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

The weight on his stomach is so huge that Liam can’t even find energy enough to feel outraged.

Jonah pulls out a linen scarf from his pocket as the guards plug wires to each sticker and wiggles it in front of Liam’s face. “Here, I’d bite down on this if I were you.” When he fails to open his mouth, the man rolls his eyes and grabs his cheeks, squeezing so suddenly and cruelly his mouth opens without command and the scarf is shoved inside, making him gag. “Not that well behaved, huh. No problem, we have time to get you obeying.”

When the guards take a step away, Liam finds himself wishing they didn’t.

“Smile at the camera, love,” Jonah says, stepping to the side so Liam is the only one being recorded. He stares straight at the lens and tries to draw in a deep breath.

He knows it is coming. He prepares for it. And then Jonah flips a switch, and there’s no preparing for pain so big, for agony so deep.

The world shatters around him as electricity lights up his body, turns him inside out, upside down, and no breath could’ve ever made this any better. There’s no air to breathe, no room to writhe, no place to escape. There is only pain, boundless and searing, here and now, splitting him into thousands of shards he can never hope to piece back together.

And then it stops, and his throat is raw but he doesn’t remember screaming and his chest heaves as he fights for air and tears fall from his eyes to his chin to his chest but he doesn’t remember crying either.

“Beautiful,” Jonah sighs somewhere close. Liam coughs and chokes on his own tears, trying to beg or maybe cry out, but whatever his mouth forms gets caught on the gag before it reaches anyone’s ears.

Please please please stop, it hurts, hurts so much, so, so much, please, please–

“Let’s go again.”

Liam doesn’t have time to even be scared before his world dissolves into burning agony once more. All he can do is scream and silently plead for help he knows isn’t coming.

When Chase turns on the phone, his heart nearly stops at the video awaiting him.

Two hours have passed. After five days of trying to convince that despicable man to let him see Liam and failing miserably, barely sleeping, worry and guilt eating at his insides, he fell asleep. He forgot. For one hundred and twenty minutes he allowed himself to rest, and now he is paid with Liam’s frozen image staring at him, waiting on Jonah’s chat, along with one single line of text that chills him to the bone.

This is for turning off the phone.

He clicks and feels a chasm opening in his gut when Liam fills the screen, strapped to a chair, scared eyes darting around a room Chase can’t see through the video, searching for an escape that is nowhere to be found, stopping on each electrode that is stuck to his body. The fear is clear as crystal on his face. It makes Chase’s heart squeeze until his chest is so tight he places a hand there, afraid to find it as hollow as he feels. Liam doesn’t talk, doesn’t scream, doesn’t beg. He simply blinks at the men towering over him and doesn’t ask for help, and that might be what truly undoes Chase.

And then Jonah turns on the switch, and Liam’s head snaps back, body contorting against restraints so tight there’s no room for him the thrash. Even through the gag, he screams, and Chase would scream as well if he wasn’t too busy gripping the phone as if his life depended on it, trying to steady his trembling hands.

When the shock stops, Liam’s face is tear-stained and exhausted, sobs wracking his body and ripping apart Chase’s soul.

His fault.

It is his fault. After everything, after betraying Liam into not trusting anyone, after losing the boy who might’ve been the love of his life, after being responsible for his stabbing, his kidnapping, after everything–

The switch is turned on again, and this time when Liam screams, Chase’s eyes well up with tears he has no right to cry. A kind of rotten helplessness takes over his body, its clawed fingers wrapping around his arms, his legs, his heart and squeezing, whispering and shouting his failure, his guilt, his powerlessness. His eyes plead to close, but he needs to see this. It is his fault, his burden, and if Liam was forced through it, he has to at least watch it to the end. If anything, to know he’s still alive.

It lasts longer the second time. A life. His useless life. Liam convulses and cries and howls, and if Chase could only take the pain to himself, he would. He would switch places with Liam in the blink of an eye. He is the one who deserves that pain. He is the one who betrays and hurts and destroys anything he touches, and it should be him, not the boy who smiles at the sunrise and cries over books and dreams about changing the world.

He stares unblinking at the screen and watches in silence as electricity courses again and again through that body he had once held and thought about spending a life beside, fogging those eyes that used to engulf him in love, twisting that face he once kissed and touched and loved into one of raw despair. Each time it stops, neither of them has time to catch their breath before it starts again. After the third time, Liam doesn’t cry out anymore. His voice breaks in a ragged wail until it dies down and all that’s left are silent sobs.

When the video ends, Chase is nearly numb. The last image shows Liam’s head hanging forward as he struggles to breathe, Jonah’s fingers casually carding through his sweaty hair.

Chase is out of his house before his brain even processes what he’s doing, inside his car, driving to Jonah’s building in a blur of hatred and desperation. When he parks in front of the tower, the phone buzzes and he doesn’t hesitate to read it. Not anymore. Never again.

You lost visit privileges. Leave the drive with the guard at the door and keep in touch.

With Liam’s screams still ringing inside his mind, forever trapped there, he doesn’t dare do anything other than what he is told. He gives the guard the flash drive, and for the first time in years, he prays. Because if anyone notices the most important files missing… he can’t bear the thought of what could be done to Liam in retribution.

(next)

#spoiler alert: ofc jonah's gonna notice there are files missing >:)#whump #whump writing #creepy whumper #betrayal whump #held hostage #electrocution #electric torture #freeze response #angst #forced to watch #hurt no comfort #i'm not sure how much i like this one y'all but i needed an excuse for what's happening next part :')#and i spent way too long staring at this so i'm just gonna post it already #i'm also starting to regret stabbing liam in the gut cuz now it's hard to find tortures that won't kill him lol

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onceuponamirror · 3 years

Text

ghosts

Faintly, Nancy can hear the waves crashing into the shoreline down the road. A buoy rings against the water. She takes a breath. “So…you don’t regret not leaving?”

“Do you?” He counters, as if knowing she wasn’t just talking about him anymore.

[set between 2x05-2x06] [read on ao3!]

“What’re you thinking about?”

Nancy turns to look over her shoulder, surprised to see Ace standing there, hands in the pockets of his puffer. He has a smile emerging from the corner of his mouth, which broadens slightly after a moment. “You look super serious. Am I interrupting something heavy?”

“What? No,” she says, clearing her thoughts, and echoes his grin. “I just thinking about…ghosts.”

“Ghosts,” Ace repeats, and drops into the seat beside her. She’s sitting on the table, whereas he’s planted on the bench, and yet they’re still at eye-level.

She blows out a breath and shakes her head slightly. “Yeah, ghosts. With everything happening so fast last month, I feel like…I didn’t fully process…” She pauses, and waves her hands for exaggeration, “Ghosts. They’re real.”

He furrows his brow, as if waiting for her to continue, or to finish her thought.

Nancy falls back on her palms, glancing up briefly at the darkened sky. “It’s just—I’m supposed to be this…Hero of Horseshoe Bay, or whatever they want to call me in the papers. I don’t really care about that but—solving mysteries is the only thing I’ve been good at, and…”

Ace passes her a slightly mischievous smile. “Is this about me coming for your title? I’m a ‘Hero’ too.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps his shoulder with her own. “No, it’s…I make logical leaps. That’s all it is. How can you make logical leaps with supernatural stuff?”

“Ah,” Ace says.

“If ghosts are real, what else is? And what won’t I be able to solve because I didn’t think to consider…Bigfoot, or something? I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this when the rules of physics don’t apply.”

“Nancy,” Ace says slowly, “all due respect, but that’s super dumb. You’ve already solved like, three ghosts mysteries by now.” She opens her mouth with mock offense, but he just grins at her, and she’s unable to stop herself from matching it again. “You’re good at this. Dead or undead. Besides—people always say stuff about physics as if it just relates to gravity. It’s a lot more flexible than that.”

She cocks her neck. “What do you mean?”

Ace shrugs. “Like, I went down a Wikipedia rabbit hole one night. A lot of physics is about theorizing about other dimensions and energy, and matter. Like—there’s that rule, that matter can neither be created nor destroyed. I think it’s mostly about decay or whatever, like how when we die we go back to the ground, but maybe there’s another part, like with our soul, that sticks around. Who’s to say that doesn’t encompass ghosts?”

Nancy just stares at him, dumbfounded. When she first met Ace, he’d struck her as a quiet slacker; another fellow high school burnout. It’s almost upsetting how much she’d misjudged him. “How the hell do you know that?”

As if slightly embarrassed, Ace ducks his face down, but she can still see his smile. He shrugs again. “Like I said, I love a good Wikipedia black hole. Which, coincidentally, has a great article on black holes.” They meet each other’s eyes, and Nancy feels something sputter against her chest, suddenly deeply aware of their proximity. She wonders if he feels it too, because he clears his throat. “Anyway, I don’t sleep super well. So it gives me a lot of time to collect increasingly random knowledge.” He taps his temple. “It’s a steel trap of trivia.”

She raises her eyebrows, still taking him in. He never seems to stop surprising her. “How did we not know each other in high school? You would’ve been super helpful on some of my earlier cases, you know.”

“I thought you worked alone then,” he says, somewhat teasingly, but like he’s avoiding her question. After a moment, he sighs. “I knew you, you just didn’t know me. We actually had art together, I think.”

“No way,” she says at once, before she can think on it. “I would’ve noticed you.”

It’s his turn for his eyebrows to jump on his forehead. Her neck flushes hotly, but mercifully, he looks away from her. “Nah. I was barely there. I was kind of a big stoner in high school.”

“I’m shocked,” she says dully, and he laughs. At the sound, her chest tightens again.

“I know. It really plays against type,” he counters, smirking.

She laughs, and a silence falls over them gently. She’s still surprised they had a class together and she didn’t even know him—even if they didn’t run in the same circles, he was still Ace. If she wracks her brain, she has a vague memory of a skinny kid in a backwards baseball cap and an oversized plaid shirt, but it’s hard to reckon that with the long-haired, soft-eyed, much more muscled boy who sits beside her.

When her thoughts finally return to the present, she finds him watching her. She turns slowly to face him, breath catching against her chest. Her eyes dart down to his mouth, and he does the same. Anxiously, she pushes her hair behind her ears, unwilling to let this moment last. This is Ace. Get it together.

“What?” He asks, his tone something low and velvety.

She laces her fingers together and tips her chin up, wistfully watching a faint star. “What are you still doing here?” She asks, and he meets her eye again, confused this time. “I mean, you’re smart. You never wanted to get out of Horseshoe Bay? Go to college?”

Ace leans back on his elbows. “Nah,” he says, but something in his voice betrays his attempt at casualness. “I didn’t have the grades, even if I wanted to.” Nancy purses her lips, not sure she believes him. He shifts uncomfortably, like he can tell. “Pothead,” he adds, impishly. “I took a couple of classes at the community college, but…I dunno, I got bored. I’ve had pretty much every job in town, at this point. Never really held anything down, ‘til now.”

“Yeah?” She asks, breathily.

“Worked on a lobster fishing boat for a summer. That was really hard,” he supplies, and Nancy wonders if that was the cause of his transformation from skinny kid in art class to the surprisingly toned boy beside her. “Worked at the video store, until they went out of business. Worked at the library for a bit. That didn’t work out, for obvious reasons.”

“Obviously,” she echoes, grinning at him. He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Last year I even worked at the yacht club,” he adds, glancing away from her. “That’s where I met Laura Tandy.”

At the mention of his ex, Nancy straightens. She tries not to put too much thought into the strange reaction her body has, deciding instead to dig at the larger thought that still nags. “Do you ever wish you’d gone with her? To Paris, I mean. Had adventures…left Maine?”

“Nance, I’m pretty sure adventure isn’t geography-specific at this point,” he sighs, throwing her a knowing look. There’s a slight thrill at him calling her ‘Nance’, and she tries to push it down. “But no,” he sighs. “My dad…I still think he needs me. He keeps trying to go back to work, as if he doesn’t remember why he left in the first place. Someone has to remind him.”

A soft hum escapes from the back of her throat. Privately, she thinks there’s something loaded there, something buried. A lie to himself, maybe. From her observation, Ace and his father are very much alike, but she doesn’t think he’d want to hear that.

Faintly, Nancy can hear the waves crashing into the shoreline down the road. A buoy rings against the water. She takes a breath. “So…you don’t regret not leaving?”

“Do you?” He counters, as if knowing she wasn’t just talking about him anymore. She levels him with a warning look, but he doesn’t back down, just piques an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” she says, honestly. “Right now, no.” She bumps him with her shoulder again. “Look at us. A couple of townie burnouts.”

He grins. “Somebody’s gotta do it.”

Another blanket of silence settles between them, but gentle this time. Again, the waves lap against the shore.

“I still can’t believe I didn’t know you,” she says quietly, perhaps not meaning to say it aloud. Somewhere along the way, he became such a fixture. But she supposes that goes for all of her friends—she was so different in high school. She’s not sure she’s someone she would’ve liked now. She realizes Ace is looking at her again. “I just mean, it’s such a small town. Like, I don’t even know your last name,” she adds.

He still hasn’t budged, soft smile and all. “Oh, it’s—”

“Yo! Lazy Drew! Are we gonna Boggle or what?” George’s voice floats across The Claw’s back deck, and they both turn around to see her at the back exit, her hands on her hips, lit warmly from behind. “Ace, you said you were gonna go get her and come right back.”

“My bad,” he says, getting to his feet. He offers her his hand down, even though it’s barely a jump to the ground. She takes it anyway, but it hits her with a shock of static so strong that she drops it like a hot potato. His eyes are anywhere but on her.

“Game night waits for no man,” George says drolly, holding the door open for them.

“Fine, fine,” she mutters, passing through the doorway. She spins around and points at George. “Tonight, we Boggle, but tomorrow—trivia night. Teams.”

“I’m game,” Ace pips up, as George only rolls her eyes and nods as she struts past them, towards the booth where Bess and Nick wait.

“Tomorrow, you’re on my team, Mr. Steel Trap,” Nancy whispers to him, leaning in conspiratorially. His body heat warms against her skin, even through her light sweater.

His smile is soft. “Any time.”

#nace #nancy drew #ace [hardy]#nancy drew cw #drabbles #fics #i am emo for these two #pls validate me and leave me a review #i forgot how thirsty i am for them #ty

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

twitch streamer geto suguru

This is a thought that doesn’t just live rent free in my head oh no this thought is the landlord of my mind. Go read the shitposts I made about this, but technically you don’t need to for context. Femme pronouns

Looking at himself in the mirror, Suguru smiled widely. His costume was perfect for today's stream. He knew his fans would love it, they voted for his next one and were practically frothing at the mouth when he announced he’d be doing it.

“Babe, come in!” He called for you. You’d left the bathroom a few minutes ago and hadn’t seen him in the full outfit.

“Coming!” Your footsteps padded on the carpet and then you appeared in the doorway. “Looking good, Dabi.” You grinned, taking note of his lack of shirt and the pants hanging low on his hips. The only thing keeping him from looking like an off duty stripper was the jacket concealing just enough to not be too too scandalous.

“Oh Toga, you’re too kind.” He chuckled, looking at his makeup in the mirror. “You really outdid yourself with the makeup, ya know.”

“Thanks.” Twirling the skirt you had on between your fingers, you looked at yourself in the mirror. “I think I look pretty cute.”

“The cutest.” Giving your butt a squeeze, Suguru slipped past you. “I’m going to start the stream now.”

“Okay!” Giving him a wave, you went to another room to occupy yourself for however many hours he’d be busy today. You could hear the music he played at the beginning of his stream start to play, and you put on headphones.

“Hello everyone, it’s your favorite sexy cosplayer!” Suguru said into his microphone, smiling at all the comments that flooded in, all in shock of how good his makeup and outfit looked. “You like the get up?”

Hundreds and hundreds of comments flooded in all saying yes. Chuckling, he stood up and showed off his outfit to the camera. Letting his coat flutter open, he laughed at the many all caps messages saying how hot he was.

“Should I say something Dabi would say?” Tapping his chin, Suguru hummed for a bit. “If you’re trash, at least be kindling for my flames. How’s that?” A couple donations came in, all praising him for his good imitation.

Sitting back down, he set up the game he was going to play for the first portion of the stream: cooking mama. Reading out a few messages and thanking everyone over and over again, he started up the game.

In the room you were in, you could hear frantic laughter and crazed shouts from Suguru. He always got super into whatever game he was playing, playing up his reactions perfectly for the watchers. He often had to drink a warm cup of tea after a stream because he’d been shouting and laughing so much.

After an hour, you got a text from him, asking to bring him a snack. You hadn’t changed out of the outfit, promising to take pictures for his Instagram once the stream was over. Quickly fixing him a plate, you knocked on the door.

“Sugu, I’m here.” You tried not to speak too loudly in case he was talking.

“Oh everyone, my Uber eats is here, one second. I know, I know, I’m eating so early into the stream!” Chuckling, Suguru opened the door and smiled at you. “Hey delivery girl, you’re pretty cute.”

“Shut up.” You giggled, trying to push the plate into his hand.

“You know, you’re so cute my stream should see you!” He shouted, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into the room.

“Sugu!” You shouted, face flushing at suddenly being on camera.

“Sugu? I don’t know who that is, Toga.” Holding you more securely around your waist, Suguru tossed the plate on his desk and positioned you in front of the camera. “Look everyone, Toga joined me!”

“H-hi.” No matter how many times he made you appear on camera you were still a little shy. Gripping the edges of the beige cardigan you had on, you waved shyly at the camera. You could see the comments flooding by, ‘so cute!’ ‘couple goals!’ ‘I’m so jealous!’.

“Some of you were wondering why we aren’t wearing wigs too and to be honest this makeup took far too long to even fuck with a wig.” Suguru laughed, running a hand through his hair. “But I should tie it up, huh? It’s getting pretty hot.”

“I’ll help.” You always had a scrunchie on you for Suguru. He refused to use normal hair ties, citing how bad they were for your hair.

“Oh, it’s everyone’s favorite part.” He teased. Dramatically fluttering his coat to the side, Suguru dropped to his knees in front of you despite your flustered requests to just bend his head forward.

“You know you don’t have to do all this.” You muttered, ignoring all the horny comments in his chat. Suguru really knew how to play up his audience and make everything a clippable moment. He didn’t have thousands of subscribers for no reason.

“But Toga, I like it when you do it like this.” He whined loudly, smirking up at you and grabbing the edges of your cardigan. Laughing at the embarrassed noise you let out, he closed his eyes as you gathered his hair into a bun on his head.

“There you go.” Patting his shoulder, you helped him up. Trying to take a step back, Suguru caught you by the arm.

“C’mon, at least pose a little with me?”

“But I thought we were just going to do it for Instagram?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Just a little bit, promise.”

“Alright.” Moving into a better position, you threw your hands up and made the same gestures as the real Toga Himiko, cupping your cheeks and smiling up at Suguru just like you’d practiced. “Is this good?”

“Look at the donations baby, you’re doing great.” Giving you a quick peck on the forehead, Suguru thanked all the people donating. Getting into his position, he did a few poses as well. Only doing a few, he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you over to his desk, making you sit on his lap as he sat on the chair.

“There’s a few new subs, (Y/N), you should thank them.” Tapping the microphone softly, Suguru gestured for you to lean forward. Ignoring the chat all furiously typing that they wanted to sit on Sugurus lap, you looked at yourself on the monitor.

“Thank you everyone who donated and subscribed! You’re all so sweet and Suguru and I really appreciate and love every single one of you!” You had learned that script early on in Sugurus streaming career. It was heartfelt and true, and better yet you never stuttered over it.

Patting you on the back, Suguru turned off cooking mama and put on some background music.

“Toga, would you like to play a game?” He asked, making his voice drop a little.

“What is it?”

“I think you’ll like this game.” He smirked wickedly, his eyes darting to the camera and giving it a wink.

“Why’d you wink?”

“No reason!” Rocking back and forth, Suguru chuckled to himself. “Will you go grab the VR? It’s in the drawer over there.”

“Sugu, please!” You knew exactly what he was going to have you do and it was already making your heart race. You were still close to the microphone, and everyone could hear your pitiful whine.

“Hey don’t make those sounds, people have to pay extra for that.” Covering the microphone with his hand, Suguru pat you on the legs. “It’ll be a short one this time.”

“You say that all the time!” Throwing your head back, you got up from his lap and grabbed the VR headset, setting it up quickly.

“Now chat, you guys have been suggesting this game nonstop for (Y/N) to play and one of the mods sent me a copy, so now we’re going to play!” Suguru went on to show the game on screen, a horror game that had been trending recently. He’d brought it up to you in passing, asking what you thought of it and if you’d ever play it with him off stream.

“I hate it here!” You groaned, flipping off the camera as it was angled to capture your whole body. Neither the chat nor Suguru could hold back their laughs, and many donations were ringing in.

“Here, let me help.” Suguru stood and adjusted the headset on your face, putting the controllers firmly in your hands. Patting you on the head, he sent a thumbs up to the screen. “Let’s go everyone! And no one worry, (Y/N) has safety shorts on under the skirt, so if she kicks her leg like last time no perverts will see her bits.”

“That’s right!” You nodded in what you hoped was the direction of the monitor. You weren’t facing it before Suguru had put the headset on, so you had no idea if you were looking in the right direction.

“Starting now.” He announced, and the game started up on your screen. It was fine enough, chilling music playing in your ears at a low volume. “How’s the sound, (Y/N)?”

“It’s fine.” Nodding, you started a new game. “The graphics are really good on this so far!”

“That’s great.” Adjusting the microphone, Suguru could barely hide his smile. As the game started, you felt shivers roll down your spine. Little things slammed in your ears and your head whipped side to side.

“So this is one of those mission games? I-I can do it, no problem!” You breathed, jolting right after as something passed the corner of your vision.

“That’s the spirit!” Suguru clapped for you. “Chat believes in you as well.”

There were a few small jump scares, spiders and things chasing you that made you shout. As the game progressed, you were doing better than anyone thought you would.

“S-sugu.” You whimpered at a checkpoint, adjusting the controllers in your sweaty hands.

“Hm?”

“T-there’s a monster.” Pointing in front of you, you could see the thing staring at you from the end of a long, dark hallway.

“Aw, there is?” Suguru teased, looking at the screen. “We see it now.”

“Oh shit, it’s coming toward me.” Taking a small step back, you quickly ran your character away from it. Chase music sounded for a bit and your skin prickled at almost getting caught.

“Good job, you got away!”

“Mhmm.” Taking a deep breath, you continued on with the game, shouting a few more times at jump scares. Suguru hadn’t spoken in a while, just letting you play the game alone. The silence from him combined with the music from the game set you more on edge, and when a monster appeared, you groaned.

“Shit, shit- Sugu! A monster is chasing me!” This one was faster and much more terrifying than the previous one. Suguru didn’t offer any words of comfort and you almost yelled at him as you were running away. “Sugu, help, help, it’s gonna- ahhhh!”

“Ah!” Suguru and you screamed at the exact same time, but for different reasons. As soon as the monster grabbed you and screamed in your ears, jump scaring you on the screen, Suguru grabbed your sides in real life, making it feel even realer.

“No!” Screaming wildly, you leapt from his hold and fell onto the floor. Scrambling to take the headset off, your breathing was all over the place. “Sugu!” You nearly cried, heart beating far too hard. Suguru was bent over, laughing so hard he was silent.

“S-so-sorry!” He choked out, slapping his knee as he tried to regain his composure.

“You’re the worst!” Silly little tears misted your lashes and you put the headset on the table behind you and crossed your arms childishly. You were shaking from how much you’d been scared, and you could see some of the messages in chat laughing at you, telling everyone they’d clipped the moment to be shared later.

“C’mere.” Tugging on the back of your cardigan, Suguru cooed at you. “Toga, don’t be pouty.”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Throwing your head back, you let Suguru wrap you in a hug but you didn’t uncross your arms. “Why do I have to play the scary games?”

“Because your reactions are better than mine. I don’t get scared like that.” Putting his head on your chin, he rocked you back and forth. “You did really good too, I bet this might get us a sponsor.”

Flicking him in the forehead, you tried to worm out of his hold but he kept a tight grip on you. You fought the urge to whine, knowing he’d just use it to his advantage.

“Let’s sit down.”

“No.” You tried to keep your feet firmly planted on the floor but Suguru wasn’t having any of it.

“Toga’s being stubborn!” He shouted to the chat. Bending his knees, Suguru dropped his arms to just under your butt and lifted you up.

“Dabi, put me down!” Squirming around was no use, but you knew this kind of reaction was great for the stream. Hitting him lightly on the back, you huffed when you were set down again and pulled into Sugurus lap.

“Look, you got chat all excited with your little act.” Pinching your cheek, Suguru smirked at you. “Hey (Y/N).”

“What?”

“Are you doing anything after the stream?” Grabbing your chin, he pushed your lips together, making you pucker a little. Staring at you for a beat, he let you go and laughed, sticking his tongue out at the camera. “I know you all are so jealous.”

“You shouldn’t be.” You quipped, grinning and laughing when he pinched your sides.

“Oh, they shouldn’t be? What about now?” Clearing his throat, Suguru put his mouth against his microphone and breathed lowly. “Thank you to all the bastards watching my stream, you’re so special to me. And a big thank you to my most recent sub, glitterkitty303, you’re the best baby.” His voice had dropped impossibly low, a voice he saved to fluster the hell out of you and get a few more bigger donations.

Breaking out into a smirk, he watched the chat roll by impossibly fast, all of the comments going insane, asking Suguru to say their username next and begging with donations for him to say something, anything, in that voice.

“How was that?” He asked you, looking at your flustered face on the screen. “How cute, you’re hiding your face.”

“Play the next game already.” Pushing his shoulder, you squeaked when he cupped the back of your head and leaned toward your ear.

“Chat, I want you to guess what I’m saying to (Y/N).” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru couldn’t hold back a little laugh at some of the messages coming in. “After this stream, let’s order pizza.” He whispered quietly, pulling back and patting your head. “Alright?”

“Alright.” You whispered, rolling your eyes at how embarrassed you still were.

“Good girl.” Rubbing your back, Suguru motioned off screen to another chair he had. “If you want, you can play the next game with me, we’re playing some Mario games next.”

After setting up for the next game and taking a short bathroom break, you were ready. The first game was mario kart, one you loved to play with Suguru because it meant nothing scary was going to happen.

“Ah shit, (Y/N) beat me again!” After doing four races and losing horribly on purpose, Suguru shook his head. “Alright guys, that’s it, my career is over. (Y/N) is taking over the channel!”

“Yay me.” You laughed, waving at the camera. “Hi guys, I don’t stream, so consider this channel dead.”

“Oof, so harsh.” Suguru gripped his chest, leaning back dramatically in agony.

After a few more rounds of mario kart and a couple other Nintendo games, you were finally allowed to leave with a cute wave to the camera and another round of thanking everyone. You were sweating bullets from the lights pointed at you and it felt good to finally be out of the room.

A few hours later, Suguru finished his stream and came to find you. He was obviously tired, stating that the two of you would just have to take the pictures before the next stream tomorrow. He often wore his costumes for at least a week, milking the reactions for all that he could.

“I never thought I’d see Dabi eating a pizza so savagely.” You chuckled. Suguru had demanded to order pizza before he washed off the makeup, he was too hungry to wait, and as soon as it had arrived he grabbed one of the boxes for himself and sat himself on the couch.

“Villainy is hungry work.” He grunted before shoving nearly a whole piece in his mouth. Grabbing your phone, you snapped a quick photo of him for your personal records and maybe a behind the scenes post for his Instagram.

You were still in your costume as well, prepared to take photos but now too lazy to change until after you ate. Suguru kept looking at you and grinning, taking quick glances at your legs before looking away.

“Why do you keep looking at me?”

“You’re just so cute dressed as Toga! And a couple people donated and asked if we would start an only fans. Seems I’m not the only one who likes the costume.”

“We are not making an only fans!” You laughed, shaking your head vehemently.

“Alright but can we take a few pictures not for Instagram?” He asked, sending you a wink. “I keep getting hard thinking about it.” He was completely serious but seeing your face contort in your embarrassment made him laugh.

“Maybe I should make an only fans and start charging you for pictures.” You teased back, nudging his shoulder. Suguru sneaked a kiss on your cheek and squeezed your thigh.

“You already know where my bank card is, go right ahead.” Keeping himself close to you, Suguru squeezed your thigh again. “Do you need a photographer, ‘cause I might know a guy…”

#jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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writtenjewels · 3 years

Text

Tradition part 3

Part One, Part Two

Cullen woke early and went to the nearby river to splash cold water on his face. He tried to reconcile the past few hours with himself and figure out what he was to do about it. It was no good pretending he hadn't enjoyed last night. The soft feel of Dorian's lips on his, the gentle tickle of his mustache on Cullen's skin, how the mage said his name... It ignited something inside him.

The ceremony had been ridiculous, but without it, would Dorian had ever made the move to kiss him? Cullen certainly wouldn't have done so; he would have been content to sit in the garden playing chess and exchanging light teases back and forth. He liked Dorian's visits to the training yard and occasionally coming up to the library to deliver new books for Dorian's perusal. But to take those feelings, admit they added up to attraction, and act on it? No, Cullen wouldn't have done it.

Had Dorian even done it out of attraction? It was hard to tell with the mage. Dorian admitted he hadn't thought Cullen would allow that first kiss, so that one had to have been a joke. But all the rest from last night... Dorian sucking on his lip, tongue gliding between, hands in Cullen's hair. What had the mage meant by all that? More teasing?

He sighed and wiped the water off his face. He returned to camp and started cooking meat for their morning meal. Varric was eventually roused by the smell. He set about making some coffee while waiting for the food to be ready.

“What's keeping Dorian?” Cullen wondered.

“Don't ask me; he's your husband.”

“Where's the person you married in that ceremony?” Cullen demanded as he gave the fire an extra poke. He kept telling himself that the ceremony wasn't real but hearing that word made his heart give a funny jump. Especially the way Dorian had purred it out last night.

“I don't know, I came through here years ago. There were a bunch of us passing through. Can't even remember who I was in the ceremony with.”

“Seems a very strange tradition if they just pair two people together randomly,” Cullen commented.

“I don't think they get a lot of travelers, honestly. And they're a weird bunch. I think the ceremony's supposed to be a rite of passage or honoring their connection to the earth and sun. Something like that.” Varric shrugged his shoulders. “You and Sparkler didn't seem to mind, so... happy fit, I guess.”

Cullen poked at the fire again. No, he hadn't minded one part of the ceremony. Nor had he minded any part of last night. “I'm going to wake up Dorian,” he announced, rising to his feet. He headed over to the mage's tent and opened the flap. He stared at the interior blankly for a moment before pulling back. “He's gone.”

“That's not like him.” Cullen agreed. Where could the mage had gone? He thought through possibilities and came upon one that seemed feasible. He headed back to the river and followed it down until he stumbled upon a pile of clothing.

Dorian stood in the water up to his shins. His back was to Cullen, giving the commander a view of his bare back and firm ass. The mage's dark skin seemed to glow in the morning light. Cullen shook his head and cleared his throat.

“You need to tell someone next time you decide to wander off.”

“So sorry,” the mage responded, turning to flash a smile. He was being far too casual about his nudity. “Couldn't stand all the dust and dirt any longer. Were you worried?”

“Of course I was. You left without telling anyone!” Cullen kept his eyes trained on the other man's face so he wouldn't see... anything else. “You know, out in the wild most people still wear their clothes when they bathe.”

“I'm a mage,” Dorian reminded him calmly. “I don't need armor or weapons to protect me.” He splashed himself a few more times before climbing out of the river. “Hand me that cloth, will you?”

“Dorian, you...” Cullen choked on his words. He couldn't seem to make himself move. Dorian waited but when Cullen said no more, he reached for the cloth himself and wiped off the water droplets. Cullen knew he should look away but he couldn't manage it. Watching the man's shoulder muscles flex was mesmerizing.

“Going to help me dress, husband?” Dorian asked him teasingly.

“I'm not...” Cullen finally turned his eyes away. “I'm watching for trouble.” He turned his back for emphasis and Dorian chuckled. A few minutes later he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“I'm decent now.”

“You're never decent,” Cullen argued. “Let's get back to camp.” Dorian fell into step next to him and the two walked in relative silence. At least for a few minutes.

“You were much friendlier last night. Are you having regrets?” Cullen didn't answer. “I see.” Dorian let out a sigh. “I thought as much.”

“Dorian, you were missing,” Cullen snapped. “Anything could have happened to you. And then I find you in the river, and you act so casual about it. You could have been hurt, or robbed. I know you're a mage and you can handle yourself but... I was worried.”

“Oh,” Dorian said in a small voice. “I didn't realize. I'm sorry, Cullen.” Cullen's eyes darted to the mage's face. For once there was no teasing smile or glint in the man's eyes. Cullen stared at the mouth, following the line down the man's throat. Damn it all, how would he ever look at Dorian without remembering him naked? “You were looking,” Dorian noted smugly.

“I'm not dead.”

“I didn't think... I didn't realize your interests fell that way.”

“Really?” Cullen stared at him. “Then what the hell did you think last night was? Unless you're suggesting neither of us meant anything by it.” He presented his doubts as a challenge, hoping Dorian would meet them.

“It doesn't have to mean anything.”

“After you keep insisting on calling me 'husband'? After showing off your naked body? After all our chess games and talks?” Cullen huffed. He seized the mage by the chin and forced their eyes to meet. “Look at me and tell me that it doesn't mean anything, husband.”

Dorian stared at him, opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Keeping a firm hold on his chin, Cullen brought their faces closer. He felt Dorian's breath tease him as the mage expelled a shaky sigh. He closed his eyes, keeping his lips slightly parted. Cullen kissed him, swiping his tongue across those parted lips. Dorian trembled slightly in response.

“That's what I thought,” Cullen said, releasing the mage. “Now let's go before Varric starts to wonder what happened to us.” Dorian looked slightly dazed as they started walking again.

“I think I like this side of you, husband.” He spoke the word in a caress, almost like an endearment. Cullen found he didn't mind hearing it.

#cullen rutherford #dorian x cullen #dorian pavus #cullrian

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