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leggerefiore · 6 months

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How would the Pokémon villains ask their partner to marry them?

cw: proposals, fluff

characters: Lysandre, Maxie, Archie, Volo, Cyrus

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ Truthfully, he is not sure why he has not proposed to you at some point. Lysandre does not expect to find another person he views as beautiful as nor does he think he would have you slip away from him, yet somehow, in the midst of his plans, it just never comes up. His work consumes him, and he barely has the time to contemplate marriage in his schedule. Yet, it crosses his mind after listening to a grunt talk about his plans to pay for his spouse's entrance fee. It suddenly occurs to him that many men his age and position are married. For a moment, he feels foolish for not acting sooner. There was no need to wait for his beautiful world to get married, after all.

☕️ He spends time bouncing ideas about how to do it with those he feels most comfortable with. Sycamore ends up encouraging him to do just do it naturally. Feeling that if he tries to make a show of it, that would become uncomfortable or distressed by what is supposed to be a happy moment. Malva asks if he cannot just delay it a bit longer, which he ignores. Suddenly, his perfect world cannot be achieved unless he is married. Lysandre begins to make plans for a trip in order to get away from work and make a memorable thing for you both. (Perhaps a proper farewell and remembrance of this world to him partially.)

☕️ A ring was bought to be something discreet yet meaningful. He had been extremely picky to the point that having it commissioned to be custom-made had been the only way to fulfil whatever he felt was necessary for his ring. A Hessonite Garnet had caught his attention, and a golden band felt like the only pairing he would allow. When he finally had it, his heart felt at ease. The orange shade of the gem was a colour that he had long since been fascinated with.

☕️ A trip to Snowbelle for a quiet getaway in the colder locale proved something much needed for both of you. Spending time cuddled up in a cabin was a pleasant escape from the endless stresses related to both of his organisations. Though, there were also a few trips out into the nearby forest for a relaxing hike and a trip to a nearby mountain range to try skiing and other winter proclivities. Of course, it was after a long day spent out in the freezing weather that he found himself with you snuggled into his side in front of a fire. The crackling of flames made his mind wander. The ring box was pulled out of his slacks' pocket.

“For many years now, I have been blessed to have you at my side,” Lysandre spoke with his voice down to a soft rumble, “I am eternally thankful that you and I met, and would never wish to lose you.” He grasped your left hand within his own as he knelt before you. His height made it feel a bit ineffective, but his eyes met yours with a strange gentleness that was solely reserved for those he deeply cared about. He brought out the ring and watched as it glimmered in the fire's light.

“Will you marry me, my love?” he asked with an exposed heart. Your denial could well and truly destroy him. “There is no other I find as perfect as you… Please, let us spend the rest of our lives entwined.”

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 He thinks about it unfortunately pretty often. Most men his age are married. Though, granted, most men his age also did not nearly destroy the world in pursuit of their own ideals. But, he did have a partner. One he was quite committed to. One that, if provided the opportunity, he would marry. Yet, he just had not found it in himself for so many reasons. His plans had required his full attention previously. Though, now, nothing like that stood in his way. A slight insecurity burned the Great Maxie's chest. He was not someone worthy of such things after what he did. An off-handed comment from Archie about you being his spouse is what finally set him over.

🪨 He quietly debates how to get everything together. There were many things that would need to be done in the case you said yes. Like meeting each other's families properly for a wedding discussion. Maxie truly did not want to do that part, but it was what was proper. He has a headache thinking about how to do it, too. Rings were the most common choice for proposing to a partner, so he knew he would need to look into that as well. Detailed lists are made and spied upon by Tabitha, who makes the rare decision to interfere. A suggestion to take you on a trip to Lavaridge seemed to make Maxie become a bit more grounded towards you.

🪨 Maxie about drives every possible jeweller in Hoenn insane. He is far too picky about the origins and details related to the gems in their rings, which makes him an annoying customer. There is little debate about what ring exactly he plans to give to you. He had already designed it on his computer and was searching for a shop either willing to make it or with something close enough that he could feel contented with it. A ruby ring with a golden band. He would settle for no more or less. The shimmering red of the gem may have reminded him of the shade of the Red Orb, but it also forced to mind his team's colour. Not to mention it just being his favourite gem. Somehow, he eventually found someone through Steven, who only sent aid when seeing a fellow rock enthusiastic in him.

🪨 The trip that Tabitha suggested ended up being a wonderful idea. A traditional inn and the shifting of the season into autumn made for a relaxing visit to the area and hot springs. While he may not enjoy the cold, he could recognise a good pairing. You seemed to enjoy the trip, too. Happy to get away from all the stresses of helping him run Team Magma and Courtney's new persistent glaring regiment. It was after a trip to the hot spring, that you found yourselves alone in your room, watching as the sun set behind the mountainous surroundings of the town. The swirling of leaves in the air and a quiet moment made him recall the ring box in his pocket.

“For what reason that has continued to see you at my side after my incalculable lapse in judgement, I do not know,” he began quietly, feeling that insecurity rise once again. You could do much better than him; you deserved much better than him. But, when you looked at him with eyes full of love, those thoughts were forced back. “I am ever thankful that I still have you in my life and that I was stopped before I destroyed this world,” Maxie felt his hand come to grasp yours. You felt so warm in his grip, your pulse beating in tandem with his own.

The ring was revealed by him as he swallowed. His glasses felt much too heavy on his face as he became aware of just how surreal everything was. “My dear, will you marry me?” The question felt like a solid weight in the air. “I don't think there's another person that I could see myself living out the end of my days with.”

🌧Archie🌊

💧 It crosses his mind a few times. He has been with for so long, and you have stuck at his side through his worst moments. Honestly, he just felt like it did not need to be done. You both clearly were basically married without all the official documents and what have you. The whole of Team Aqua already thought you to be his spouse, anyway. Something official felt redundant. Though, the second he heard Maxie intended to get married, suddenly his opinion shifted hard. Of course, the nerd would feel the need to go through all the legal channels and whatever else. He refused to let the redhead get ahead of him, however.

💧 He debates how to go about it. Between asking Matt and him just telling Archie to go ahead and do it with little thought, to Shelly forcing him to actually be realistic and doing something romantic first, he felt a bit confused. He sighed as the admin made him remember that he probably should speak to his and your families, but he felt that was all tiring. Who cared about tradition? All that mattered was love, and he certainly had that. He did find the talk about a gift of jewellery while doing it more interesting. Could he get you something to better match his anchor? His interest was not in the expected avenues. Archie highly doubted you were going to say no.

💧 He pretty quickly settles on a sapphire ring. It's blue, he likes blue, and it makes him think of the Blue Orb. It works pretty much to fulfil everything he would possibly need it to. Though, despite the insistence of the store clerk to go for a silver band, he demands a golden one. He needed it to match his necklace, after all. His original plan had been to get you a necklace like his, but Shelly shut that down the second it left his mouth. (Matt told him to still go for it, but he could tell the ring was probably a better choice in the end.)

💧 He takes you out for a quiet stroll on the beach of Lilycove as the sun was setting. The sound of the waves lapping against the shore almost felt in tune with his heartbeat. His eyes darted to you a few times, taking in how the light made you almost seem to be glowing. The ocean was nothing but a complimentary scenery as he felt whatever small nervousness melt away. You stuck with him even after the Kyogre madness and supported him wholeheartedly when he changed the direction of his team. He reached into the unzipped part of his wetsuit to go for the ring box.

“Luvdisc, I know tha' I have made some pretty unforgivable mistakes,” Archie felt a rare, sheepish grin fall across his face, “And I'm thankful that you have stuck by me through all that.” His eyes met yours as you cocked a brow up at where he could possibly be going with this. The two of you had long since discussed everything that happened, but he felt the urge to preface it all with that. He grasped your hand tightly as his usual grin split his face. There was nothing to worry about, the Aqua Leader reassured himself.

“Let's get married,” he proudly announced while pulling out the ring, “I already see ya as my spouse, so why not just make it official? I want to spend every day to come at your side.”

💫Volo📜

⭐️ Marriage never crosses his mind. Honestly, he doesn't even consider a long term in his life about most things. Marriage is not something overly common in Hisui. Sure, his people had traditions like it and the clans did, too. In his case, marriages were usually decided by the parents of the person, which resembled what most of the Galaxy Team seemed to favour. But, he could tell you viewed it differently. It was obvious you wanted whatever it was you saw it as with him. And then, after what happened at the Temple of Sinnoh between you both, he just saw it as impossible.

⭐️ Volo listened intensely to what you had to say about your time period as you went on about it. From what he deciphered, it was clear marriage is mostly viewed as a romantic thing to do in your time, not as a way of combing powers or funds. It interests him, as you continued onto proposals and modern married life. All of it interested him, but everything was impossible in the period you both resided in. Marriage between you two would be essentially nothing more than a quiet declaration between you both. There would be no rings or jewellery, only a common understanding of a dedicated relationship. While, he would have been fine with that, something told him that you would crave the image you had in your head of a wedding ceremony.

⭐️ Before he had time to even discuss such things with you, you were gone. The sky which spit you out in Hisui had consumed you once more and taken you back from whence you came. His frustration boiled in his chest. Arceus was mocking him at this point. He gripped a precious agate bracelet in his hand as he glared harshly at the sky. The accessory was difficult to obtain, having to sway previous merchant connections to have it. His plan had been to offer it as a gift before promising to spend his life at your side. It was far too late for that now. He fell to his knees in exhaustive feelings.

⭐️ It was his immortal life that granted him a second chance, he realised. What was meant to be a punishment – a curse, benefitted him greatly. You were in the future, after all. He had nothing but time. Which is how he ended up intercepting you as you stepped out into a more isolated place within Sinnoh. You had just held some sort of meeting with a descendant of his, something he cared little for. The bracelet was still with him all these years later. Volo caught your hand as he gave one of his more friendly smiles. Whatever stunned state you fell into passed quickly. The yellow agate caught the light dully as he slid it onto your wrist.

“... My, don't you look surprised?” he chuckled at your reaction to seeing him again, “I told you, didn't I? I'd meet Arceus even if it took me centuries.” His eyes met yours, feelings twisting in them plainly. It had been so long for him, yet no time for you. Unfair, he wanted to call, completely unfair. Your mind raced with so many things. It was certainly a bold move to propose so soon after re-meeting for the first time in who knew exactly how long, but he did not care. There had been more than enough time for him to reflect on his feelings.

“No matter, that's irrelevant,” he shook his head and pulled you close to him, smiling even brighter at you, “My love, let us finally be together. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of time with you.”

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ It crosses his mind at some point when he realises his age. Sure, many people hold off on marriage well into their thirties, and many people even then still opt against marriage due to how stressful it could be. Memories of attempts of arranged marriages by his parents scorn his mind. Business partners still offer their sisters and daughters to him in order to better strengthen deals and raise his status. It was after one of those particular meetings that he felt the urge to finally marry you. His plans had failed, already. There was no point in delaying things further here.

☄️ Cyrus plans a nice dinner at one of the more expensive restaurants in Jubilife, trying to set the mood more than his original plans. Mars had seen his notes about telling you plainly that he planned to merge your family registers and have you legally listed as his spouse. It seemed easier than all the elaborate bells and whistles of inviting you to marriage. A ceremony was deeply unwanted by him. He knew you would not say no, but she insisted on him being romantic and being polite to at least consider your feelings. Besides, it was not like he had parents for you to discuss this with, and yours likely would not be opposed to a marriage with him. At least, as long as they did not know of his previous plans, he supposed.

☄️ He struggled with what to do. Mars insisted he get you a gift. A ring screamed romance to her, but she suggested that he focus on something that you would like. A ring was a common choice, so he presumed it was the safest option. A bright heliodor gem with a silver band seemed pleasant enough to suffice. The clerk had ecstatically explained to him the meanings of them gem, but he cared little to recall much more than some odd association with leadership. Though, the name itself was admittedly what attracted him. Perhaps your waxing poetic about his name's meaning had unconsciously wore off on him.

☄️ It was after the dinner that he brought you out to an isolated place within the city that he took your hand within his as he turned to face you. His eyes gazed at your ring finger as thoughts rushed through his mind. He hated how breathless he felt. The thought of you both unified together made him feel strange. Feeling in general was hard for him, but the idea of finally tying himself to this world was exhausting. Your voice calling his name with a lightly concerned tone snapped him out of it. His hand fished the ring box out from his suit coat pocket.

“... I know I am not the easiest person to live with,” Cyrus began while meeting your eyes, “Every day I am eternally grateful that I have you in my life still. Your presence calms me down from the strange emotional turmoil that foolishly claims me.” He stops himself from going further. Memories of all the time you two had spent together dances behind his eyes. You were the only reason he left the Distortion World. The ring is presented by him with a desperate need to hide his shaking hands.

“Allow us to marry,” he forced down any unwanted hesitation, “I believe you are the only person I could ever wish to spend my days with.”

#pokemon x reader #volo x reader #cyrus x reader #lysandre x reader #maxie x reader #archie x reader #pokemon archie x reader #pokemon lysandre x reader #pokemon maxie x reader #pokemon volo x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon/reader #archie/reader #maxie/reader #lysandre/reader #volo/reader #cyrus/reader

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aziraphales-library · 2 years

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Hello mods! I'm not sure if I've already sent this ask. Found it in my notes but didn't cross it off, so I'm assuming I never sent it. If I did, you're free to ignore this :)

Hi mods!

Whenever I find a human au fic with queer themes, I go in hoping for something not set in modern era and try not to be disappointed every time I'm mistaken. So, do you know of any fic set in the past (could be 1700s, could be 1950s, hell could even be the 80s. Don't mind just as long as it's not set in the 21st century or ancient times) in which A&C are queer in some way and have to deal, at least a bit, with the consequences of being that in that time? Could be gay, trans, or whatever. I just really want to read about them being queer in a world against them and finding comfort in each other. So a happy or at least hopeful ending would be appreciated too.

Thanks in advance! The work you guys do is fantastic <3

Hello! Try the Historical AUmens Collection! There are also tags on AO3 for particular eras like Victorian, Regency, Medieval etc.

Here is an ask with long list of historical recs.

Some more:

Moonlight Serenade (Extended) by TawnyOwl95 [E]

That night the bombers flew out from Tadfield Airbase. They always woke Crowley up, set the dogs barking but tonight they disturbed him long after the night had fallen silent again.

He couldn't sleep until he heard them come back, until he knew if there was a chance Aziraphale was still alive.

Called Up by cassieoh, Liquid_Lyrium [T]

"Bit of a chilly day to go without a jacket," he points out stupidly. He tries not to stare openly at the braces that attractively frame the other man’s chest. Then he remembers his shades are in place, and he feels some tension leave his shoulders.

Fell (terribly ominous name for a pilot, that) goes a little pink in the cheeks, and isn't that something?

"Gave it away," he mumbles under his breath, and it's like a trap door drops out from under Crowley's feet.

Once More, With Feeling by saretton, TawnyOwl95 [E]

1950s. The research continues, but Aziraphale is determined to shake things up.

If only he can find the courage to let Crowley know.

The things one does for science.

All My Heart Is Yours by FeralTuxedo [E]

1847. Aziraphale Fell arrives at Eden Hall to take up his new position as tutor to the young heir. The house is enormous, remote, and its occupants rather strange — but none more so than its master, the ill-mannered but inconveniently handsome Mr Crowley.

Mr Crowley’s gaze lingered on him.

‘Now I see you in broad daylight, I can tell you’re no gentleman.’

Aziraphale bristled. He was wearing his best ensemble, and it was of fine enough quality, if a little rumpled from the luggage.

‘Whereas you certainly look the part, even if your manners suggest otherwise.’

A Victorian human AU loosely inspired by Jane Eyre, but with 50% less angst and 100% less spousal incarceration.

As Time Goes By by teatales [M]

Mr Anthony Crowley was fine with being alone. He had his car and his plants and his career as a travelling salesman, and it was fine. Even with his awful new bosses, he had no plans to quit selling watches anytime soon. What else would he do?

Mrs Aziraphale Ingels had been stuck in Tadfield ever since her husband passed away a year ago. She tried her best not to dwell on how lonely she felt as she filled her days with books and baking while waiting for the inheritance to be finalised. Only then could she consider what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

A chance meeting, a blossoming friendship, and Aziraphale and Crowley soon find themselves falling in love with the stranger they met only a few months ago. But neither believe the other could ever love them back, and both have things they're terrified to share.

As Time Goes By is a timeless romance set in the 1950s about acceptance, being less alone than you think, and watch-related puns.

~Mod N

#good omens #ineffable husbands #historical #historical au #mod n #human au #adult omens

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noteguk · 3 years

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any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself.

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no.

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles.

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying.

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower.

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times.

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener.

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync.

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling.

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure.

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell.

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates.

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt.

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night.

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?”

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.”

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...”

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked.

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.”

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated.

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.”

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.”

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!”

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said.

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa.

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense.

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.”

“How’s that possible?” he asked.

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you.

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.”

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years.

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird.

But you also kind of didn’t care.

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?”

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked.

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down.

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?”

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in.

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him.

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point.

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him.

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt.

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind.

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple.

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations.

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?”

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on.

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were.

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.”

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth.

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations.

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.”

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue.

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…”

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them.

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him, meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer.

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry.

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression.

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.”

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him.

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.”

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats.

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?”

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.”

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked.

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you.

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips.

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to.

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?”

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try.

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you.

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?”

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?”

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.”

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.”

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you.

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips.

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.”

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered.

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.”

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss.

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch.

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream. “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.”

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.”

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.”

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name.

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.”

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…”

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever.

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.”

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours.

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.”

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.”

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.”

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.”

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again.

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you.

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts. “Hey, ___?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #smut #au #taehyung au #bts au

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poppy-metal · 3 years

Text

so uh,,,,this ended up being alot softer then i was expecting LMAO.

Bully!eren x reader

Cw: not alot, some smut at the end. Tame for me but i was in my FEELINGS okay.

Word count: 2.3k

The familiar sleek black of erens benz pulls up to the side of your house as you walk home from a late night trip to the grocery store, pints of ben & jerrys ice cream in the bags, as well as several other snack items one might munch on to cram for an exam, which is what you planned on doing.

You side step more onto the sidewalk when he pulls up beside you, still driving just slow enough to match your pace. He rolls down the window, jerking his head, “Just the girl i wanted to see,” he drawls hooking his arm out his window to lean out a little, he grins, “its fate”

You scrunch your nose up and scoff “Stalking is another word for it, jaeger”. You look him over suspiciously, “you wanted to see me?”

He rolls his eyes. He’s wearing aviator sunglasses, pushed up his forehead. Loitering in front of your house like this, you’re aware of how different the worlds you live in are. Everything about eren is expensive, from his car to his sunglasses to his clothes, even the way he smells, the cologne he wears, all tells how important he is. Meanwhile here you are in your oversized hoodie and leggings, hands full of stuff you’d bought from the convenience store, prepared to spend your night busting your ass to even stay in the college you had to claw your way to get into, wherein he had gotten in without even trying. You’re not self conscious, at least not usually. You’d never yearned to be apart of erens world too terribly, and it was eren who always sought you out, not the other way around, when there was plenty of rich girls right up his alley and status that would be glad to be with him and yet here he was at 11pm at night. You try to push down the way your heart flutters at that fact.

“Uh huh. Get in the car, bambi, m’taking you somewhere” his teeth are a flash of white against the night, promising trouble, as always. Your grip on your bags tightens, as does your heart in your chest. You glance away, “i have to study”

“Study?”

Your brows pinch together and you hold up your bags “Not that you’d care, jaeger, but some of us have to actually study to achieve our goals. I can't entertain you tonight, im busy”

Eren doesn’t look put out in the slightest, glancing down at your bags with casual disinterest“You dont need to study”. And then he looks up at you and meets your eyes, your breath catching, they look closer to the shade of seaglass today. “You’re smarter than anyone i know, ___, and i know alot of people. Whatever you want to pass? You’re already there. Just come with me, please”

Your eyes widen and your heart spasms in your chest, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice. He has moments like this, where he usually teases you and gets under your skin but sometimes he says something that makes everything in you jolt. Its not fair. Its confusing and it messes with your head, makes it fuzzy, weakens you and makes you do things you’d never do with a clear mind.

You wish you could fight it, wish you could roll your eyes and tell him no and do what you need to do. But you don’t. Huffing you say, “Ugh, fine. Just let me put this stuff up, my ice creams probably already a puddle by now” you turn and rush up to your house, ears burning when you hear him call out, “Thatta girl!”

You try not to put everything away to hastily, thinking he ought to squirm just a little, but even you can’t deny the eager buzzing under your skin. When you clamber into the passenger seat of his car eren turns to grin at you as he flicks his sunglasses back over his eyes. “Knew you’d see reason, bambi”. You roll your eyes at the nickname, crossing your arms over your chest as you side eye him warily, “where are you taking me jaeger, is this a kidnapping?”

“Not a kidnapping when you want it, sweetheart”, eren says, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he backs up his car to make a uturn. You dont know if the flustered leap in your chest is from the petname or the way his forearm looks flexing, the cords in his neck prominent as he looks behind him for any oncoming cars. “Just trust me, yeah? You’ll like it”

You sink in the seat, trying to get away from the warm heat of his arm so close to you, but hes taking it away soon enough, only to draw your attention again to the way his hands look steering the wheel. His hands….You turn to look out the window, opting for silence, because you feel like you’re about to lose your mind. This car is just so..him and its overwhelming your senses. It smells good, it smells like him, his cologne wafting all around you. The sleek interior of his car is crisp, clean, sharp, and just so richboy it feels surreal. You haven’t been in his car before.

Eren seems okay with the silence though, tapping his finger idly against the wheel as soft music plays from the radio. Its strangely peaceful, actually. Before you know it, the whirring of houses and neighborhoods and highway turns into palm trees and sand. You sit up straighter, coming out of your daze when you realize eren is pulling his car into the sandy bank by a large body of water. The beach. You haven’t had a chance to go here.

The water looks like black at this time of night, there are no waves, just sparkling dark abyss that stretches out for ages and ages, glittering under the moonlight. There are no other cars parked close to you so its just you, eren, and the sea.

You spend quite awhile gawking at the ocean before you come to your senses and turn to face eren. He has his elbow propped on the wheel, chewing idly on his thumb as he peers at you from over his sunglasses. A small smile is playing at his lips as he watches you.

You gape, “What…”

“You’re cute when you’re excited, you know” his voice is low, dropped in that way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You ignore the way your heart skips at his words, probing him, “Why did you bring me here, ren?”

He turns to face forward, flipping the radio off so theres no background noise between the two of you. Taking his sunglasses off the folds them and puts them on the dash, sighing as he watches the ocean from out the windshield, gnawing on his lips. Tap, tap, tap, his fingers on the wheel go as you wait for him to speak. “Last week,” he starts, glancing at you, “When we had to do those presentations in class about places we feel at home..you talked about the library”

He laughs under his breath like its some kind of endearing joke, shaking his head a little. You dont speak. “The library is where i first saw you, you know? I mean, before all this, before i..talked to you, i noticed you before you ever noticed me.” A small secret smile plays on his lips, “You were reading ‘percy jackson and the lightning thief’, and you haid your hair in pigtails. Your glasses were way to big your face. My first thought was ‘wow she looks like an owl’, but then i saw you laugh at something on the page and my second thought was ‘i want to know her’. We were in middle school.”

Green eyes connect with yours, “You still go there, i know. But anyway..this is. My place, i guess”. He purses his lips “i figure since i'm always intruding on your little sanctuary , i’d let you see mine”

You take everything he just said in. He’d known about you, noticed you, since middle school? You hadn’t acknowledged him until sophomore year of highschool, hadn’t spoken to him since senior year, when this tug and pull had first begun between you two. You remembered that day, your mother wouldn't buy you the series so you’d relied on constantly re-reading the books at the library. It was around that time you began to see that place as something special, too. Tucked away from the world, you could lose yourself in another's story. It was like magic. And to realize eren had been there the whole time, had glimpsed that, realized that the library was your special place, that he’d even payed attention to your presentation in class at all in the first place...that he was here, showing you something of himself in return, even though you’d never asked. You’d wondered of course.

Eren was an enigma, he was on most days, the bane of your existence. He had made your life a living hell on many occasions, but with that, he also made you feel more alive than ever before. He’d dragged you out of your bubble and challenged you to see the world beyond school and books and fiction, he raised your emotions and forced you to experience everything head on. Anger, confusion, happiness, anxiety, thrill, lust and…

You look at him. The way the moonlight curls into the car like a kind of mist, making his eyes look absolutely beautiful. The soft wave to his brown hair, his eyelashes, everything about him made you ache with desire. All the time, even when you swore you hated him, you wanted him.

“Kiss me”. Its whispered out so low, for a moment you worry he might not hear it. Its the first time you’ve asked for him, reached for him first without his taunting to guide a confession from you. With this request, filling the air between you, you’re making it known that you want him, want this. It doesn’t change anything and yet it somehow changes everything. You can’t look in the mirror and tell yourself he doesn’t occupy your mind and your heart anymore. Not after this.

Eren seems to realize this too, his intake of breath letting you know he heard you loud and clear. “__..” he says, inching closer. His eyes, dark now, are so very hungry as he closes in. In a moment his lips, soft, so soft, are on yours. You sigh into his kiss, opening for him easily when his tongue glides into your mouth. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, tenderly, thumb stroking it. God, you want to eat him, you want him to eat you. The wet smack of your lips fills the car as you hungrily nip, and suck, and kiss at each others lips.

When eren pulls back, he’s panting, hair disheveled. You don’t remember when your hands first sunk into his hair, but they must have, messed up as it is now. He looks at you like he wants to devour you, he licks his lips. “I’m gonna put your seat back,” he tells you slowly, each word dripping with finality, “im going to kiss every inch of your body and then you’re opening those legs for me and letting me inside, baby”

You don’t have it in you to act scandalised, you know what you want. You’d basically asked for it. You just nod, never taking your eyes off his face when he reaches down and pulls the lever. And then you feel yourself being tilted backwards as the seat goes back, laying you flat. Your chest heaves with barely contained need as eren then settles above you, every clothed inch of him hovering just barely above you.

Holding your eyes, eren lowers himself. You spread your legs easily to accommodate him, gasping when you feel his clothed cock settle right against your clit through your leggings. He rocks once, gently, against you, his hair hanging over his forehead as he looks down at you with utter want in his eyes, “Want you to feel me”, he murmurs, and rocks again, “Wanna fill you up so good, you can’t ever pretend that im not apart of you. Because, this, baby?” Another rock, a shuddered moan leaving your lips, “This is it. No ones gonna fuck you like i do, no ones gonna get inside that little head and play the games we play so well together.”

One of his hands trails up your thigh, dipping his hand under the fabric of your leggings and pulling them slightly down, he pecks your lips, once, twice, three times. “Tell me”, he groans into your mouth, peeling your clothes off you slowly, “Tell me you understand, Tell me this is everything”

And you tell him. Tell him through your whimpers when he parts the folds of your slick cunt with his fingers buried inside you. Tell him through your moans into his mouth when he shoves his jeans down and splits you open on his cock. Tell him through sighs of his name, when he rocks into you, licking into your mouth as he spears you open. Tell him through the way you claw your fingers down his back when starts to fuck you hard, rocking the car with the force of his thrusts. Tell him through the way you spread your legs, even wider, toes curling as he wrings orgasm after orgasm out of your tight little pussy milking him.

“Its everything, you’re everything…” You cry out again and again, clutching onto him as he pumps you full of his cum, groaning brokenly into your neck.

“Fuck”. He pulls back to look down at you, brushing your damp hair back from your face, still inside you. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you little nerd”

#eren jaeger imagine #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #bully!eren #aot smut

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kuroopaisen · 3 years

Text

takes one to know one || fushiguro megumi

➵ megumi just wants to buy some flowers from the nice stall attendant he definitely doesn’t have a crush on in peace. gojou has other plans.

wc: 2.4k

warnings: gn!reader, incoherent chaos

a/n: gracie dearest this one’s for you :( you are so sweet and so lovely to me and i’m so, so glad we met in this hellscape (i would personally like to thank psycho-pass for existing) i hope i did your boy well!

By the time he arrives at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi knows the flowers are a mistake.

“For me?” Gojou gasps, hands clasped and mouth agape in perhaps his most punchable smile. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

Megumi’s fist tightens around the handle of his bouquet. Today, it’s lilacs, irises and white lilies. It’s also much bigger than usual – too big to inconspicuously leave on someone’s fence or place in the school gardens.

“You can have them if you want,” he murmurs. What else is he supposed to do with them?

The delight on Gojou’s face collapses into a precarious mix of genuine confusion and insatiable curiosity. “Hah? They’re not for anyone?”

“No,” Megumi says. And if they were, I wouldn’t tell you. Although he doesn’t say that last part. Gojou would perceive it as a challenge, and the less he knew about Megumi’s private life, the better.

“So…” A grin splits Gojou’s face. “The person you bought them from must be special, then.”

Megumi freezes for just a second. But he knows a second is enough for Gojou to glean all the information he needs.

“Ah,” Gojou hums. “I see.”

“No, you don’t,” Megumi mumbles, well-aware of the heat rising in his cheeks.

“But why would you go out of your way to buy a bouquet of flowers, hm?” Gojou grins, shit-eating grin back on his face. “They don’t hand these out for free, you know.”

Megumi’s grip is so firm he’s scared he’ll crush the stems.

Although, he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do with them. It doesn’t feel right to throw them out – not when you’d spent time putting it together – but he wasn’t about to revamp his room with a distinctly floral accent.

Is it against social protocol to give the flowers back to you? Not now, of course, but maybe on his evening walk… or tomorrow morning…

He still doesn’t know why he didn’t just walk past you that first day.

But something about the way you were gazing out into the street, eyes wide and hopeful as you watched people ignore you on their daily commute… something about that drew him in.

And once he’d bought something from you once – just a small flower, one he didn’t know the name of, but seemed appropriate behind a cute girl’s ear – he couldn’t very well start ignoring you.

Not when your smile is so bright, your eyes sparkling with gratitude whenever he takes whatever floral arrangement you’ve lovingly bundled together out of your hands.

But now he’s paying the price – in more ways than one.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your flower stall is just a few feet away from one of the trendiest cafes in this area of Tokyo, and whoever oversees your little operation is obviously trying to capitalise on that. Setting up so early must be an attempt to catch the rush of bleary-eyed corporate workers craving their necessary morning coffee.

What use an office worker has for flowers, Megumi doesn’t know. But he has a feeling that you’d probably say something along the lines of “it’ll help brighten the place up.”

As usual, you’re waiting there patiently, eyes hopefully scanning the streets for any potential customers. Your face positively lights up when you finally catch sight of him – something that still makes Megumi nearly trip over his own feet.

“Good morning!” You call out, waving to him.

Megumi raises a hand in response, shuffling towards you with all the embarrassment of a high schooler on their way to their first date.

“Can I interest you in a floral arrangement on this fine Saturday morning?” You grin, eyes twinkling as you make your marketing pitch.

“Sure,” Megumi sighs, scanning the vast array of flowers currently on display. He’s getting better at picking them out, but he still can’t name any of them on sight.

You wait patiently, hands folded on the counter. If you think he’s an idiot, you keep it to yourself.

“Those ones,” he says, pointing at a group of blue heart-shaped flowers.

“The morning glories?” You ask reflexively, reaching over to pluck a bunch out of their display.

“Yeah,” Megumi shrugs. He has no idea what a morning glory is. The term sounds like something Gojou and Yuji would snicker at.

“They’re gorgeous,” you smile, taking a moment to admire them.

“Yeah,” Megumi says again.

Flowers aren’t really his thing; God help him if he was ever asked what his favourite kind was. But there’s no point in saying any of that – not when he’s already spent an embarrassing amount of money at this one stall.

“You’re keeping the business afloat, you know,” you giggle, as if reading his mind.

Megumi blinks at you. “Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “It wouldn’t be amiss to say you’re our most important patron.” You beam at him, same sparkle in your eyes as always.

He’d be furious, if you weren’t so nice.

How is he supposed to focus when you’re looking at him like that? How’s he supposed to ask who ‘we’ is? A business partner? A partner partner?

But you look so young. You can’t possibly be running a business. But you might have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or both. Or a partner of an otherwise non-binary gender.

Too many questions, no social capacity to ask them.

“So,” Megumi begins, his voice calm and composed as ever. His mind, however, is scrambling around like a fast-food joint at rush hour, trying to string together a sentence that’s not only coherent but also fascinating.

“How old are you?”

Whoops.

It’s the forbidden question. Or, at least, that’s what people always say. People, in this case, is Gojou. It usually is.

You seem unbothered. “I turn seventeen this year.”

Was it only a forbidden question for people who’re older? But in that case, surely knowing someone’s age was pertinent for the whole ‘respect’ thing. Maybe Gojou just didn’t think he should ever ask anyone’s age because then he’s not beholden to honorifics.

But Megumi can’t imagine him using them properly anyway.

That’s not the point. The point is that you’re the same age as him. You weren’t somehow twenty-seven with a baby face.

“Oh,” Megumi nods. “Me too.”

The smile you give him is almost unbearable. How is it even more of a smile than your usual smile? That doesn’t make any sense.

There’s a certain excitement bubbling in his gut that he doesn’t recognise or like.

Wait, if you’re his age, then…

“Do you not go to school on Saturdays?” He asks.

Is this conversation too dry? He’s not sure. He doesn’t usually make an effort at this sort of thing.

“My school doesn’t have classes on Saturday mornings,” you smile, meticulously wrapping brown paper around the stems of a set of particularly bright morning glories. You always do it so delicately; where on earth do you find the patience?

There’s something… graceful, about how you go about it. Sure, it’s your job, but Megumi still enjoys watching you work because—

“Hello there!”

Megumi knows that voice.

Oh no.

“Hello!” You fold your hands in front of you and give your new customer a bow. But your usual smile has been replaced with an expression of middling confusion as you look him up and down.

Megumi doesn’t need to turn around to know who’s standing behind him.

“Who’d’ve thought there’d be so many kinds of flowers in bloom, huh?” Gojou grins, slinging a lanky arm around Megumi’s shoulders.

Megumi glances to the side.

A pair of startingly blue eyes peek at him from behind black shades.

“What are you doing here?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I thought I’d just come out for a morning stroll,” Gojou sighs, gesturing to the sky. “Don’t you think it’s gorgeous?”

Megumi’s ready to commit a murder.

“And look at all these flowers!” Gojou exclaims, bending down to peer at some asters closely. “Did you grow them all yourself?”

“Of course not,” you laugh. “I just sell them.”

Jealous maybe isn’t the right word. But there is a twisting in Megumi’s gut upon the realisation that within minutes of meeting you, Gojou had made you laugh. Megumi, on the other hand, was yet to do that.

“Well, either way, my student is a big fan,” Gojou smirks, shaking Megumi’s shoulder. Megumi’s soul is currently leaving his body.

“I was just telling him that he’s our most valued customer,” you smile, tilting your head at the pair of them.

“Ah, is that so?” Gojou grins. It’s amazing, really, how he manages to capture all the terror of the apocalypse in one smile. “I never really took him as a flower guy.”

“Everyone’s a flower guy, sir,” you tsk, shaking your head. “Even you.”

Gojou places an affronted hand on his chest. “So quick to make assumptions!”

“Not at all,” you smile. “You’d be surprised by what our customer base looks like.”

“You don’t say,” Gojou grins, turning to Megumi.

Megumi considers the consequences of punching Gojou right in the nether regions. He doubts he’d be punished for it by the higher ups; if anything, he’ll probably be rewarded. Maybe even pushed up a grade for his invaluable service.

“Fushiguro!”

Oh no.

Megumi’s eyes widen ever so slightly. His head whips round to Gojou. His teacher is already looking straight at him.

“Ah,” Gojou grins. “I told Yuji to meet me here this morning.” The glint in his eyes strikes terror right through Megumi’s departing soul.

Sure enough, Itadori barrels his way towards them, damn near colliding against Megumi with a ‘thump’.

Megumi can do something but stare into the abyss, hoping, wishing, praying this is just a nightmare.

Unfortunately, it’s not.

You give the newest addition to this strange little posse a customary bow. “Good morning!”

Itadori beams at you, his entire face lighting up. “Good morning!”

A strange panic starts to rise from Megumi’s gut. If he thought about it, you and Itadori would get along well. Too well.

Thoughts of you and Itadori walking hand in hand down the street as you laugh, Itadori offering you his coat on a clod morning as you blush, Itadori walking you home, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as you lean towards him and –

Megumi blinks the thoughts away. What is wrong with him today?

You and Itadori have just met. And what was it to Megumi anyway? It’s not like he—

“Megumi?” Itadori tilts his head at him.

Megumi stares back blankly. “Hm?”

“I wanted to know how you found this place,” Itadori asks, voice bright but with the uncertain quality inherent to repeating oneself.

“Oh,” Megumi murmurs. “Well, I…”

In truth, he doesn’t remember. He just saw you one morning and decided to approach. He still doesn’t know why. But he doesn’t regret it.

“I roped him in with my charm,” you piqued up, picking up the lull in conversation.

Try as he might, Megumi just can’t concentrate. Itadori’s pressed against him, Gojou’s still got his arm slung around his shoulder, and—

“Ah, Nobara’s here!” Gojou beams, waving a hand over his head.

“What are you doing here of all places?” Nobara frowns, raising an eyebrow at Megumi. “I wouldn’t have taken this as your sort of scene.”

If there’s a hell, Megumi’s sure it’s this.

Conversation is bubbling around him but none of it is registering in his mind, he can see Nobara’s dissatisfied look as she takes in the situation at hand but he doesn’t have the energy to retort, Gojou is playing with the petals of one of the display flowers but Megumi knows he’s not going to buy it and—

“Hey, Megumi?”

He snaps back to reality at the sound of your voice, gentle and concerned.

“Are you alright?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. It’s as if you’re completely ignoring the rabble, as if you see him and only him.

Next to him Gojou, Yuji and Nobara watch with rapt attention.

“Yeah,” he lies. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

You frown at you look at him. Something flashes in your eyes and you suddenly duck beneath your countertop.

Megumi and his gaggle of fools blink in surprise.

In a moment you hop back up, something purple bundled up in your hands. “Here,” you smile, handing it out to him, “this is supposed to help you sleep.”

One whiff and he knows it’s lavender.

“How much?” Megumi asks.

You shake your head. “Oh, no. It’s on me.”

Megumi’s heart flutters as you smile. Despite the chaos going on around him, despite the fact that he knows he’s going to be mocked for this for weeks to come, he’s grateful.

Somehow.

“Sorry about this…” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine,” you giggle, shaking your head.

Megumi feels Gojou chuckle quietly, his chest rattling. Itadori is unusually quiet and Nobara seems moments away from a laughing fit.

“I should go,” Megumi says quickly and suddenly. He doesn’t give you time to respond, zipping down the street as fast as his feet can carry him. He needs a shower and then a run and then he needs to beat a training dummy up and then—

“Wait, Megumi!”

He freezes in his tracks. That’s… your voice.

And around his wrist is… is…

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes darting for where you hand wraps around his wrist. Why is his heart racing so absurdly fast? Why does it feel like his head’s about to explode? You’re just holding his wrist. You’re not even touching his skin. Not that it matters—

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You ask, not quite able to meet his gaze.

It brings him back to the moment.

“Of course,” Megumi answers reflexively.

You finally lift your eyes up. They seem to be sparkling. “I look forward to it.”

Before he even has time to process it you’ve let him go and trotted back to your stall, tending to your flowers as if nothing’d happened.

This has been too much embarrassment for one day. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on and he’s not sure he wants to know. But man, he needs at least several hours alone to process everything.

As Megumi shuffles away, Gojou bounds after him, still grinning like a fool.

“So, Megumi’s got himself a—”

Megumi elbows him in the stomach before Gojou even has a chance to finish his sentence.

#megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #megumi x you #fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x you #I don't know how to TAG #STILL #this is a disaster but now it's everyone else's problem

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tainted-wine · 4 years

Text

Primal Dissonance

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

So anon was like:

And since I’m total ass at writing short drabbles, or maybe it’s because they called me senpai, I ended up with a whole-ass fic. This took a different route than planned but I hope you enjoy, anon!

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Dubcon, Pheromones, Mindbreak, Feral Hawks, Rough and Public Sex, Tit Abuse. This totally isn’t as dark as it sounds.

--------x--------

Hawks has been getting noisy. Not in the usual sense; he’s always a motormouth. No, he’s been making sounds that you’ve never heard him make.

At first you thought he was sick and something was irritating his throat, but on one occasion when you offered him water after hearing the sound, he almost looked offended. You concluded that it wasn’t an illness.

You later noticed that the noise often happens when it’s just the two of you together. During late night movie viewings at his place, he’d hold you close and release a constant hum, the vibrations from his chest and wings soothing enough to make you drift into sleep in his arms. You never saw the look of disappointment in his face as he decided to cuddle you for the rest of the night.

Just a few days later, he spots you during one of his patrols and presents you with a surprise expensive gift. A ruby pendant, the same brilliant shade as his feathers, was placed around your neck by gentle gloved hands.

“Hawks—why—what did I do to deserve this?” You asked while your eyes reflected the gemstone’s sparkles.

“Just wanted to give a pretty gift to my pretty girl.” He gave you a kiss, and waves of soft hums leave his mouth and into yours, flowing through your body, stimulating all of your nerves and triggering pleasant shivers. One makeout session later, and you both pull back to lock eyes. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you don’t even know what the hell he’s expecting.

You look to the side awkwardly. “Thank you, Hawks. It’s beautiful, but I…don’t have anything to give in return. This was a complete surprise, after all.”

His eye twitches, but he smiles and embraces you. “That’s fine, chickadee.”

A pigeon appears during your hug, and the soft coos emanating from it give you an epiphany.

“A pigeon! That’s what it is! You’re cooing like a pigeon!”

This time it’s his smile that twitches. Did you say something wrong? Whatever it is, he brushes it off with a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

That was also the day you noticed his rising body temperature. You asked once again if he was feeling ill, and at least this time he didn’t appear to be upset when he answered ‘no.’

On the next night you spent in his home, he—and you’re still not over this—took your hand and pulled you in for a dance. It wasn’t some silly jig in which he blindly moved to a random pop song, it was a slow classic love song, and he moved both of you in an elegant dance fitting for a ballroom.

It was the last thing you expected from the hero that normally took you on KFC dates or, if he had the time, reserve a spot at his favorite yakitori place. But there was no way you could say that you didn’t like the way his feet glided across the floor, wings acting as a living cape that made each of his movements look all the more graceful, and you followed his pace as best as you could.

You clung onto him more tightly than intended when he dipped you after a spin, sharp avian eyes boring into you before he buries his face in your neck, and that’s when you feel more than hear the cooing return. It’s a tune that never fails to make you feel so warm and safe; you have no idea how his gentle sounds have such influence over you.

He looks pleased by your relaxed state, pulling you back up and brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I didn’t know you had such grace, Hawks. Now hurry up, or we’re going to miss the movie for tonight!”

You scampered off into the kitchen to prepare the popcorn, completely oblivious to the baffled look your boyfriend was giving behind your back.

A few days later and you’re more certain than ever that he’s coming down with something, because now there’s a constant sheen of sweat all over his skin, and his breath sounded labored even when he was just sitting around. Since he ignores all of your pleas to stay home for just a day or two, you come up with another solution. Hawks pouts like a child when you tell him that a little nature and clean air might restore his health, but he still accepts your offer for a date at a nature park because hey, spending a day in natural beauty with you sounds great.

You practically dragged him into a bus after telling him several times that he shouldn’t tire himself out prematurely by flying both of you there. One long scenic drive later, you both arrive at your beautiful destination. The park was huge and lush with flora of all kinds, from tree-filled paths to endless flower fields.

Exploring everything this paradise has to offer with Hawks sounds like a dream, but your main goal was to loosen him up and help him feel better, so you avoided the populated areas, passing the cycling roads, the play areas, the bug houses, all of the charming attractions until you reached the long stretches of vibrant colors. The flower park.

You and Hawks began a slow stroll hand-in-hand, taking in the seemingly endless blooms, the trees shedding petals onto the walkway—all of it served as the most delicious treat for your eyes.

But when you looked at the winged hero to see if he was enjoying the scenery as much as you were, you saw that he was staring at you. His face was slightly flushed, but you couldn’t tell if it was the result of his feverish temperature or if he’s finding this whole date very romantic.

“The flowers are over there, birdbrain,” you joked with a squeeze of his hand.

His wing wrapped around you and pulled you in closer, encasing you in his abnormal heat. “The only flower that matters is right here.” There was a rough breathlessness to his voice that made the otherwise corny line sound sensual.

And then the coos returned, bringing you back to that pleasant world where everything was warm, soft, and safe. The red feathers surrounding you quivered and rippled like ocean waves of scarlet. You were supposed to be making him feel at ease here, not the other way around.

A chorus of chirps snapped you out of your stupor. You broke out of the hypnotic embrace and spot a bunch of small bouncing figures in the white lilac tree in front of you. “Aww, look at all of the little tits, Hawks!” You point at the flock of singing critters.

Hawks snorted immaturely.

Before you could withdraw your arm, one of the Japanese tits flew over and perched on your still-extended finger, leaving you bug-eyed and your mouth agape. “Hi there! You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?” You said softly, hoping not to startle it. It tweeted in response, fluffing up its black and white plumage as it looked up at you curiously. “Hawks! It’s so cute!”

Red wings bristled, but you were too enamored with the friendly bird on your hand to even look back at your boyfriend. It continued to sing, the tits sitting in the tree joining in to create an adorable medley of chirps, tweets, and peeps. “Such a nice sound, I never realized how amazing these little guys are.” You keep watching the beady eyes that stare right back at you, feeling the bird’s little feet move quickly as it adjusted itself to get more comfortable.

And with a powerful slug from a hardened red feather out of nowhere, the tiny tit is knocked off of your finger and sent flying like a fucking golf ball.

Your pointing hand was still out as you looked on, eyes and mouth now wide open in horror instead of awe. The poor bird managed to right itself before it hit the ground, flapping frantically to ride the light breeze and fly past its tree of brethren and off into the distance, its sloppy turns and sudden drops betraying how dazed it was.

With your short-lived friend out of your sight, you turned to the man that ruined your magical bonding session, multiple negative emotions boiling inside you and ready to spill right onto this bastard. “Hawks!” You’re prepared to blow his ears off with every ounce of frustration, every concern that’s been plaguing you for the past week thanks to the strange changes that he refuses to talk about, but then you freeze.

The man’s face has darkened, eyes narrowed with its pupils shrunken into beady slits, lips pressed together in a tight frown—he looked enraged. But the terrifying look wasn’t directed at you, he was looking up at the innocent tits still residing in the tree and paying no mind to the violent treatment of one of their own. As his wings slowly spread with feathers sharpened, your chest constricted once you realized what was about to happen.

“Stop!” You threw yourself at him, grabbing at the outstretched limbs in a pitiful attempt to stop them, the bladed edges cutting your hands. It was still enough to shock and prevent him from launching any of the deadly weapons at the birds. You felt his feathers return to their soft fluffy state as he stumbled from your weight. “What the hell are you doing? What, are you pissed that it chose my hand instead of yours? The hell is wrong with you?”

Now he was aiming the glare at you, and you couldn’t help but shrink under the intimidation. His voice was shockingly low. “Just what game are you playing at here? Gushing over another bird’s song right in front of me?”

You eyed his still-expanded wings as you tried to make sense of what he said. “What?” Was all you could say.

“Here I was thinking you just had extremely high standards, but maybe you’re the type that likes to play hard to get, or make your guy jealous and see how he handles it.” He took a step toward you, and you took one back. “Well let me tell you, I’m not handling it very well.”

What he was implying would have made you burst into laughter if he didn’t look so threatening right now. “You’re…jealous? Of the bird that was on my finger?”

He laughed, or at least tried to, but the shortness of breath made him cough. The sudden anger must be worsening whatever has been making him hot and throaty for the past days. He needs to calm down for his own damn sake. “I guess I shouldn’t be, should I? Not for a girl who gets wet over any bird that does something as simple as approach her.”

“Excuse me?” Did you hear that correctly? No joke, did you really hear that shit correctly?

Hawks just keeps on going, taking your bewilderment as more mockery. “I give you something shiny, you don’t say anything.” A flash of several feathers and you feel your arms being pulled in front of you, the red tufts tying your wrist together.

“I put on a nice dance I practiced for, and you don’t say anything. Did you even notice that I cleaned and decorated the room that night?” You’re panicking from your tied hands and don’t see him fire another barrage that goes for your ankles, their tugs forcing you to lose your balance and fall hard onto the ground with a pained cry. Your hands are forcefully pinned above your head. “Hell, you seem to enjoy my song every time you hear it, so what’s the deal?”

While your heart is on the verge of exploding from its anxious beats, the gears in your head are spinning as you try to figure out how exactly this whole miscommunication even happened, but they keep jamming, filling your head with sparks and smoke of pure confusion. “What song? You haven’t been singing anything!” You yell as you fight against the feather-made cuffs around your hands and feet, but there was no breaking free. They suddenly felt as strong and durable as elastic metal.

Hurt flashes across his face and you don’t understand why goddammit, but it’s quickly masked with another scowl. “You mean the song that’s lulled you to sleep? The song that never fails to put you at ease every time? I can sense it, you know. How calm and pleased you feel whenever you hear it. I know it’s not the loud obnoxious tune of a songbird,” he glances at the tree that continues to emanate various calls as he kneels over you, nearly straddling your waist. Smart of him to keep his groin out of the range of your knees. “But you still enjoy it, right? I’m not too upset that you compared it to a shitty pigeon.”

You only stutter in shaky breaths as he lowers himself and presses all of his weight onto you, your eyes shut as he nuzzles your face lovingly. He feels like a furnace, the sweat from his face slathering onto yours from his rough rubs.

That’s when you smell something potent. You’ve picked up traces of it from him throughout the week, a strange but not unpleasant mixture of salt and sweet. You assumed it to be some sort of shampoo or cologne, but now it’s hitting you full force and it’s making your body…respond. With each inhale, the exotic scent sends a tingle down your abdomen and a release of wetness that dampens your clothing. What the hell is happening to you?

Hawks pulls away and sniffs the air. Your feminine aroma has him moan so suggestively that it makes your core heat up even more. “Oh, so this is getting you going?” He questions in a judgmental tone before something appears to cross his mind, and he laughs with a slap to his forehead. “I’m such an idiot. I’ve been doing this all wrong, haven’t I? You’re not a bird.” He kisses at the side of your face and licks the shell of your ear before whispering, “You’re a mammal. You don’t choose a mate by their pretty gifts or fancy dances.”

The lustful haze invading your mind almost distracts you from whatever is tugging at your pants and pulling them down. “H-Hawks…” You accidentally moaned. You were too out of it to even properly convey your worry. Your pants are removed and something tickles your hips to remove your panties next—that’s when you identify them as more feathers.

“With mammals, males just take what they want. They catch her, hold her down, and fuck her on the spot.”

You gasp when your lower body is completely stripped and exposed—a mistake—Hawks’s intoxicating smell rushes into your mouth and nostrils, making you clench and gush. He lifts himself just enough for the living binds around your wrists to pull and drag you off of the stone walkway and into the blooming batches. The flowers were just tall enough to probably hide you from anyone at a distance, but the winged man crawling over and sitting in front of your feet would easily give you away. “Hawks, someone…might see us,” you mutter.

He only chuckles. “Good, I want them to see. Are you little bastards watching?” He looks up at the lilac tree that now looms right over both of you. The resting tits have gone quiet, most likely intimidated by the large bird-human hybrid that continued to glare at them.

The response was ridiculous enough to temporarily free you from your trance. “I’m not worried about the birds, you dumbass.”

“Hmph, of course you’re not. You’d let them all join in if I’d let you, wouldn’t you?”

You have so many questions about how that would even work.

But you’re interrupted by the feathers around your ankles pulling your feet apart, easily overcoming your resistance and spreading you wide open for the hero in front of you. You have to look away from just how soaked you are, juices flowing from your swollen pussy and onto the soft soil, some of it sticking to your parted thighs in strands. The sight makes Hawks salivate.

“I’m at the peak of my rut and I’m tired of waiting. Gonna make you mine.”

It’s all he says before his entire mouth is on your cunt, tearing a startled cry from your throat. The peaceful sounds of the wind and rustling leaves are overshadowed by the absolutely filthy slurps, sucks, and growls between your legs. He was being a greedy savage that simply wanted to drink you up. There were no careful methods or patterns, just a hungry tongue that lapped at every inch of you and lips that sucked on anything they could grip.

You could barely even writhe from the onslaught, what with your arms pinned over your head and your feet held down so strongly that you couldn’t even move them across the dirt. You kept your sights on the rich colors of various flowers that encircled you as the sweet-smelling haze enveloped you again, enhancing your pleasure. Despite Hawks’ sudden loss of his oral skills, the feral nature of it all—the smothered snarls against your sex, the startling feel of his teeth carelessly grazing your sensitive flesh, and the lewd sight of his face covered in your glistening juices as his glassy eyes opened and stared into yours as he ate you alive—his voracity had you boiling over.

He gulped your essence loudly, welcoming every drop of the orgasmic flood into his mouth. All of the colors in your vision blurred more with each mind-numbing pulse. You weren’t even aware of the shameless wails that left you until the blissful waves finally subsided.

Once he had his fill, he finally pulled away from your mound and boy did he look like a hot mess. His cheeks were a deep red that was slowly spreading across his cum-covered face, a beady string of your fluids hanging from his lips before dripping off. He was climbing back over you and when the fuck did he take his pants off? He must have unbuttoned and removed them while he was licking you into heaven.

He still manages to look smug while he takes in your spent form, your slightly parted lips impossible to resist. Your mouth was suddenly locked with his, the breath you were desperately trying to get back stolen from you. And then the scent returns, this time accompanied with a powerful salted lemon flavor that assaults your taste buds. The taste of your own pussy was insignificant; his aroma in both your nose and mouth is nearly suffocating, your still-recovering inner walls already squeezing out more of your slick.

His tongue thrashes about in your mouth to paint his sweet saliva on every spot he could reach. You swallow it up thirstily and feel an immediate response in your throat that somewhat frightens you. Numbness overtakes your mouth and your throat relaxes completely; you felt like it was suddenly impossible to choke.

Hawks messily pulls away, breathing heavily and licking his lips. “Look at you. All it takes is a whiff and taste of a rutting male to turn you into a submissive little bitch.” You’ve never heard him speak like that, but like every action he’s taken since you’ve been at his mercy, it doesn’t fail to arouse you for reasons you still don’t understand. “Do you want some more? Hmm?”

You’re nodding before your crippled mind can comprehend the question.

The drugged kiss has you dizzy. You’re doing your best to keep track of his movements as he straddles your chest, his cock coming into focus and pressing against your lips. He doesn’t give you a command, you simply open up like a trained whore.

You’re moaning from the addicting taste of his length that pushes all the way to the back of your throat. Once his pubes are flush against your nose, your eyes roll back and you lose all sense of…everything. Everything except for that exhilarant fragrance and flavor.

Even as he begins to move in your mouth, your tongue swirls all around the sweet meat in an attempt to taste him all over. You’re throbbing wildly, but the feathers prevent you from bringing your thighs together for some much needed friction.

He was thrusting in and out at a pace that should have you gagging, but you take the pounding smoothly. Everything was murky, save for the pleasure that was slowly consuming you. You think the birds are singing again, maybe.

Something was smacking against your chin…rather loudly, you think. Hawks’s balls. How obscene, the way he’s hunched over you and fucking your face so roughly, but it’s hard to feel embarrassed when it’s all making you feel so damn good. Drool gathers and drips down your mouth. Your throat has become a second pussy, and he was fucking it like one.

The scent has your entire body on fire and you wish so badly that you could touch yourself. It was too powerful, each breath filling you with more burning tension. Your desperate whines came out as bubbly gurgles around his hammering dick. Your climax is dangling right at the edge. All you need is just the smallest touch on your drenched, deprived pussy.

His thick intrusion suddenly leaves your mouth, allowing oxygen to properly enter your lungs and for the pooling saliva to be swallowed. Hawks says something as you cough and sputter, but everything is still too muffled.

“Good……….not yet……….finish inside.” That was all that you were able to catch. You frankly don’t care. You immediately want his overpowering scent back.

When something pushes past the entrance between your legs, you cum instantly. Your scream is silent, or maybe you just can’t hear it, as your restrained limbs twitch like mad from the excruciatingly pleasurable contractions.

You’re already being fucked roughly while you’re still coming down from your orgasmic high. You’re rocked against the flowers and the soft earth beneath, your peaceful surroundings a stark contrast to the raunchy act currently taking place among them.

Hawks leans in once again, and you have to turn away and hold your breath because you truly felt like one more whiff of that mouth-watering smell would bring you the most euphoric death. His mouth drew closer to your ear, harsh pants in sync with his rapid thrusts. There’s no way a body was meant to handle so much stimulation, yet you didn’t want it to end.

You wanted this powerful man and everything that he had. You want him to fill your womb with his seed…bear his strong and healthy offspring…then let him take you all over again…

There’s a soft rumble that brings you back down to earth, clearing your mind just enough so that all of your senses work properly again. The smudged colors return to their original shapes, and the cooing that vibrates through both of your bodies can be heard loud and clear. His song.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you right here. Just give in to me.” Hawks sounds on the verge of losing his voice, weak and graveled, but his singing and hips aren’t letting up.

Finally, fucking finally, the feathers release your limbs. Ignoring how boneless they feel, you use all of your strength to wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and your legs lock right above his ass. You cling onto him like a parasite and moan freely, trusting his low and soft vocals to keep you grounded as his citrus aura captivates you again.

Your involuntary clenches ruin him and take him to his peak, several more hard and deep pumps bringing you to your final climax. Both of you cry out loudly enough to scare away the tits still resting in the tree, the small flock flying off to find a quieter perch.

--------------------

Good. That showed the little bastards.

Hawks smiled triumphantly as the small birds fled the erotic scene. Once he was certain that none of them were coming back, he returned his attention to you. Your chest heaved with each audible breath, your entire body drenched in sweat, just like his. He laid a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking lovingly as you close your eyes for much-needed rest after almost losing your mind.

He did it. He finally claimed you, and all he had to do was just show a little dominance…and expose you to a hefty dose of pheromones. It was clearly way more than you could handle—maybe the face-fucking wasn’t the best idea, but it looked like you were enjoying yourself enough. No harm done.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Hawks was a cool-headed man. He’s managed to stay calm and collected in the direst of situations. Still, when he slowly turns around to see a man dressed in the park’s staff uniform, blushing at the sight of a sweaty couple with no pants on among the innocent blossoms, he can’t help but feel just a wee bit fucked.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you? Wha-?” The poor guy is lost for words from the fact that he just found the number 2 hero banging someone in public.

Eh, he’s talked his way out of tighter spots.

With a smile, the winged hero sends a few feathers to his discarded pants and withdraws a pen from its pockets.

“How about a deal, buddy? An autograph from yours truly and a coupon for my merch. All you gotta do is walk away and forget what you just saw.”

#hawks #smut #birdbrain hawks #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #tw dubcon #tw animal harm

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

I really love when people write about c!wilbur manipulating c!dream so I was wondering if you could write on about the smp realizing that c!wilbur manipulated c!dream into being a lap dog for him but a hell lot of trouble for then and if you could add c!wilbur taking advantage of the fact that dream is a god during a fight that would make my day. Hope you have a great day.thank you. Love your work.

ooh yeah - c!wilbur is back and GGG-ing as good as ever, , which Really makes you think abt what it’s gonna be like when he interacts with c!dream again. this ended up being a little more c!sapnap centric than i intended, hope that’s alright haha. (and thank you so much for the kind words!)

tw: implied abuse, torture, drowning, dismemberment, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault, c!sapnap critical? not really?, dark portrayal of c!wilbur (typical MAD duo shenanigans)

Sapnap isn’t expecting to find anyone when he storms out in the middle of the night - he’s tense, they all are after the fiasco at the prison, but really his thoughts are filled with Karl once again going inexplicably radio silent for days on end and Quackity ignoring all of his questions with a simple “i’m busy” that he’d failed to follow up even twelve hours later, so Dream and Wilbur and whatever the hell happened that left Pandora’s Vault - obsidian, indestructible, tall and dark and proud - half-crumbled and sunken into the sea are just about the last things on his mind.

Even so, he’s not an idiot, so he had enough foresight to pack a few potions and gather his armor and weapons before stepping into the summer night - it’s cool under the moonlight, a soft breeze cutting through the otherwise stifling weight of the humid air, and the comfortable night is enough to make his anger die down, just a little. Kinoko Kingdom glows soft and warm from the lanterns Foolish had scattered all over the place, thick with the earthy smell of fungus and flowers, and he takes a deep breath before walking to the city outskirts to hopefully clear his mind.

He’s no stranger to late-night walks; his temper had always been fiery, even as a child, and he’d figured out pretty early on that the easiest way to deal with it was to walk or run until his brain was too tired to think anymore. Walking at night also meant he could take out some of his frustration on mobs as well as the satisfaction of setting a random patch of forest on fire without worrying about burning down someone else’s property, and once he got good enough with a sword and shield to come and go relatively unscathed, Bad had stopped his worrying enough to let him do whatever as long as he came back in time in the morning. Sapnap frowns as he hacks at a random branch in his way with an axe, watching as it falls in a spray of leaves and crashes to the ground; he hasn’t seen Bad in a while, not since he became obsessed with the whole Egg thing. Quackity had mentioned some cryptic things, and Karl was adamant that they avoid the Egg as much as possible, but he probably should’ve at least visited, or something. Bad always knew what to say when it came to messy things like this.

Though - Sapnap laughs wryly - it’d never been this bad, before. Karl distant and absent, Q somehow even more so with a new glint to his gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. George, usually asleep, never around, expression perpetually foggy like he doesn’t know where he was. Dream- evil, insane, awful, somehow so familiar it hurt and too much of a stranger to recognize. He wonders when it all got this bad. He wonders what it says about himself, that he didn’t notice until it was far too late.

“Fancy seeing you out here.”

Sapnap whirls around, sword drawn; the figure staring back at him doesn’t even flinch. His eyes narrow at the sight, stance widening, shoulders tense.

“Wilbur?” He keeps his voice wary, guarded, trying his best to keep surprise from coloring his tone. Wilbur grins at him, tight-lipped, the planes of his face faintly lit by the moon shining over them, facial features only barely visible in the dim light. Without really meaning to, Sapnap cranes his head to look around at the surrounding forest, but nothing moves or makes itself known outside of the figure still staring at him, smirking. “What- what are you doing here?”

And where’s Dream?

Because Sapnap might not know much about what went down at the prison and what Dream’s plans are and the whole mess that he’d been so desperate to put behind him and utterly failed at doing so, but what he does know is that the two of them - Dream and Wilbur, Wilbur and Dream - had been all but inseparable, strangely attached to each other in a way that spelled out nothing but trouble for the rest of them. The rest of the server had been compiling sightings of the two in the hopes of being able to stop whatever it was that they had planned, but Sapnap knows his former friend, brother, and even if he doesn’t know Wilbur, his reputation more than precedes him: the two of them are smart, not to mention paranoid as fuck, and the rest of them have a better shot shooting targets in the dark than figuring out whatever the hell was going on in their heads with the two of them working together. Either way, he knows that they’d never been sighted apart - it was always Wilbur standing on a hill with Dream sitting next to him, or Dream hacking through mobs as Wilbur followed, or the two of them stepping into a fortress and leaving minutes after - until now.

“Could ask the same of you,” Wilbur laughs, just a shade to the left of friendly, and the moonlight scatters through the leaves and glints off his glasses. “Don’t be so tense, man! I’m just going on a walk, thought I’d enjoy the night. Didn’t see anything like this in Limbo, you know.”

Sapnap winces at the reminder, that Wilbur is here and alive in defiance of law and reason and the universe itself, but Wilbur barrels on, seeming unaware of his unease.

“Anyway - how are you doing, man? Haven’t seen you around in a while.” He leans back, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, stance loose, relaxed. “I’d ask Dream, but he’s been in prison for a bit, you know? Most of what he knows is pretty - ah, outdated, not that I tell him that.”

“What are you planning?” Sapnap snaps, grip tightening around the handle of his sword. “You and Dream. What do you want?”

“Who’s to say we want anything?” Wilbur seems to grin wider, and the expression on his face is unsettling, makes something cold slither up his spine. He shakes his head to rid himself of the feeling, half-wishing it was brighter so he could better see the other’s eyes.

“I mean-” he stutters. Because Dream always wants, he almost says, bitter and angry, that all-too-familar swell of betrayal rising in his chest at Dream, forever insatiated, forever wanting, forever looking for more more more. Because if he were to escape, and if he were to want nothing, then what did that mean for the rest of them? Because if he didn’t want, if he wasn’t left wanting, then did Sapnap ever mean anything at all? The thoughts stick to his skull like tar, words clinging to the roof of his mouth as it goes dry. Wilbur seems to stare at him, unimpressed, and he feels his face go hot.

“He’s not- he’s dangerous, you know,” Sapnap says instead of answering, because untangling the awful, knotted feelings that make up his remaining ties with Dream, half-frayed and neglected and forgotten, is more work than he can handle and more emotions than he has the energy to bear. It doesn’t matter, in the end, because Dream is still dangerous; he knows that, resolutely, and maybe it’s lucky, that he found Wilbur without Dream whispering plans and manipulations and meaningless words by his side. It’ll give him a chance to warn Wilbur, bring him back to their side instead of risking his life (again) in the company of his friend-turned-tyrant. Dream is dangerous, whether he wants or not, because Dream is Dream and he’s been in too many manhunts to face him with anything less than one hundred percent confidence. “You don’t want to be with him, Wilbur. He’s hurt- so many people.”

Wilbur’s expression doesn’t change, seeming as indifferent to the words as ever; if anything, he looks a little amused. “Really,” he hums, almost to himself. “Dangerous, you say?”

“He’s Dream,” Sapnap insists, because it’s the truth, and it’s the simplicity of it, really. It’s Dream, and Dream is dangerous whether he’s on your side or not, forever ruthless and unheeding as long as he gets what he wants. He’d been in Wilbur’s place, once, convinced that Dream’s strategies and planning and infallible logic had meant they had no way of losing. He knows better, now. “You’ve fought him before! He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anything.”

And if the words are a little more bitter than they should be when he says that, who but he is going to notice?

Wilbur’s eyes stay on his, completely silent, expression unreadable. The quiet gets awkward quickly, Wilbur’s expression seeming unchanging, nothing but the faint rustling of the leaves around them to break the stillness of the air, and Sapnap feels his gut roll uncomfortably as he looks off to the ground, waiting for Wilbur to react in some way, any way. It’s hard, he knows, to realize that someone you thought was on your side had been using you the entire time, he’s been there before and he gets it, but- it’s still strange, how still Wilbur has become. How he still hasn’t reacted - is his expression going to change?

And suddenly, starting quiet and then swelling in volume, Wilbur begins to laugh.

“Goodness,” Wilbur drawls through his chuckles, voice low and dark and sending chills down his back. “I thought he was exaggerating, man - you really do hate him, don’t you?”

“What- what’s so funny?”

Wilbur smiles, teeth flashing white as the faint light from the moon bounces off of them, “I have to give you my thanks, truly. I’d thought that Quackity did the most of it, or Sam, but you- I really couldn’t have guessed.”

Sapnap’s head is spinning. Wilbur’s expression is positively gleeful, eyes dancing, smile wide and brilliant, bouncing from one name to another with little explanation to how any of them tie together. Sam? Quackity? Nothing is making sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh Sapnap,” Wilbur croons. “You really don’t know, do you?”

He twists his hand in a flippant gesture, eyes directed into the forest surrounding them.

“Let’s just say that his, ah- stay, in Pandora, wasn’t exactly what I’d call a five-star experience. But you know that, don’t you?” Wilbur directs a flat smile his way, and Sapnap swallows, throat dry. Briefly, images flash behind his eyes - walls, dripping with crying obsidian, the lava’s heat hard to bear at his back, even for him, mining fatigue pulling at his limbs and making them heavy. How startlingly bare the cell had been, even through the haze of his anger, Dream, slumped in a corner of the cell, barely moving, barely even breathing as it seemed sometimes, sunken-in cheeks and sagging shoulders speaking of nothing but a bone-deep exhaustion. “Apparently, being psychologically and physically tortured for months on end has an interesting effect on the human psyche. Even more so when, say, your best friend comes once in the entire time to tell you that he’ll kill you if you ever try to escape.”

“How-” he trips on his own words, lungs seizing, “how do you know that?”

“He tells me things. A lot of things, really. Did you know it takes one and a half regen potions to reattach an arm after it’s been cut off? It takes three and a half for a leg, he thinks, but the blood loss made it rather hard to remember.” Wilbur steps forward. “Did you know that scars created by healing potions tend to be much thicker and more prominent than those made by regens? Or that he can hold his breath for a little more than two minutes before passing out?” Wilbur smirks, jagged, threatening. “Did you know that I can tell him just about everything, and he’ll believe me because there’s no one else to tell him otherwise?”

“Wh- what?”

“I’ll be sure to tell him what you said; I’m sure he’ll love to hear how his brother is doing.” Wilbur waves. “And when you see Quackity, be sure to give him my thanks, will you?”

“Wilbur, what- come back-”

And with a flash of purple particles, Wilbur disappears, leaving Sapnap alone in the middle of the forest. Stasis chamber. His heart pounds in his ears, breathing all-too-loud, and he stares desperately at the empty space where Wilbur had stood like it’ll bring him back again.

Fuck, he swipes his hand across his face, startled when it comes back wet. What does he do now?

#tw abuse #tw torture #tw drowning #tw dismemberment #tw manipulation #tw unhealthy relationship #tw emotional distress #tw dark content #prison arc #pandora's vault #c!sapnap critical #mutually assured destruction #my asks !!#-> my asks #my writing :D #-> my writing

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

the Other Lane.

pairing : Clark Kent x Reader

requested by: @dashingcavill [Hope you like this! 💛]

warnings: Angst with a happy ending, and a lot of fluff in the end.

A/N: Ah, I'm really sorry I couldn't help but put some major angst in here, but I swear the ending is happy and I added the right amount of feels and fluff to make it hurt less. 💛

[The Masterlist]

You often wondered if you were born to your parents only to become a commodity that could be compared to your sister, Lois , at all times. Yes, the two of you were different, she had glamourous blonde hair and sparkling blue irises that made her strike out, while you had sombre [Y/H/C] hair and dull [Y/E/C] eyes that peeked out from the tint of your glasses. If the glasses weren't enough to fit you perfectly into the category that was termed as 'nerds', the fact that you loved to bury yourself into mounds and mounds of books, and literature was sure to fit you into that bill. All that comparison, but that didn't lessen the bond that you shared with Lois though.

However, things slowly started changing, the dynamics messing up when Clark Kent came into your life, as a friend and as a colleague.

Lois worked as a reporter for Daily Planet, and you, well you were mostly working in the background, struggling to make a run with your tiny little column on relationship advises. It wasn't like you were any less intelligent, but maybe you just were okay with how everything was going.

It didn't mean that there weren't times at all when Lois made you secretly jealous. To be fair, it didn't bother you when you heard stories of how Lois got herself into trouble yet again, with none other than the Superman came to her rescue. You could still take that, considering the fact that Superman took his duty towards the civilians as his topmost priority, but when you began noticing obvious changes in your sister's behaviour when she talked to Clark, his alter ego; your colleague at work, you couldn't help but start feeling the little pangs of jealousy.

It all began subtly— starting from lingering glances at the workplace, to hands brushing with each other's, almost innocently, yet the two of them had a sparkle in their eyes when it did. At first, you decided to ignore them at work, trying your best to not run into Clark Kent while you were in your office building. The reason for this was still inexplicably strange for you. You didn't even know the man that well, yet you could do nothing in your control to keep your budding feelings for him under check. It was like, the more you avoided Clark Kent, the more you began aching to get a glimpse of him.

As the days passed, you realized that your crush on Clark was slowly getting more prominent, and you started feeling scared, dreading if there ever came a day that your secret crush on him with finally be out. To top it up a notch, you wondered how Lois will react, knowing well aware that there was something blooming between the two of them, although she had never admitted this to you herself. Also, you kept hoping that whatever this was, between Clark and Lois, it was maybe all in your head and that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't even true, and you hoped it wasn't.

Soon, days grew into weeks and weeks flew by as long months, and you realized that what you felt for Clark wasn't just a silly crush, but you were actually falling in love with the man. It was the littlest things that he did that made your heart melt. You would, sometimes, run into him in the cafeteria, where he would be filling up his mug of coffee. He was a gentleman, he would smile and greet you warmly, your eyes meeting his sparkling bright ones as he would move out of the way and insist that you went ahead first. You would often end up taking elevator rides with him, and he would make sweet small talks with you, talking to you about everything, ranging from the weather to a possible alien invasion.

The plan that you had cooked up to avoid Clark Kent went down the drain from those days onwards. Instead, you almost began running into Clark almost everyday. The gossips about Clark and Lois had, by then, died down and you couldn't help but feel relieved, relieved that maybe you had just been dreaming, and there was nothing between Lois and Clark.

"Hey [Y/N], can I borrow your turtleneck? I can't seem to find mine?"

You looked up from the book that you had been binge reading on, flustered and embarassed, as you immediately tossed the book unceremoniously into your blanket. Of course, you couldn't let your sister in on the fact that you were secretly reading the fifty shades series. She would tease the living hell out of you. And then there was the fact that you felt ashamed of the fact that you could practically imagine Clark Kent in your mind as Christian Grey, and it was making you all heated up and bothered.

Lois raised an eyebrow when she saw you red you had turned, "Are you okay? You look like a massive human sized tomato."

"Gee, Lois, thanks?" You mumbled, still reeling from the way she had suddenly barged into your bedroom, as you pushed your glasses over the bridge of your nose, "couldn't bother to knock?"

"Since when do we do these formalities?" She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, and dashed towards your closet, throwing it open as her fingers began working through the hangers, looking for what she was looking for. She was practically messing up your closet, so you sighed and decided to give her a helping hand. Abruptly, you slid out of the covers, forgetting about the novel that you had hidden underneath and the novel suddenly slipped off the side of the bed and fell to the floor, it's covering full on display.

You facepalmed, burying your face into your hands as Lois walked up to the book and picked it up, smirking obviously as she read out the title out loud just to tease you.

"Looks like my baby sister is finally growing her wings."

"Stop it, Lois. Don't embarass me," you grumbled, looking away. Instead, you dashed up to your closet and pushed her to the side, roughly pulling out your turtleneck as you handed it to her.

"Come on, [Y/N]" she laughed, shaking her head, messing up her perfectly styled blonde waves as she ran a hand through them, "We all have done this. You're not the only one. Nothing to be embarassed about. It's not like you're watching porn."

"It is technically still porn if I'm reading it," you whispered, watching her as she examined the turtleneck and smiled, as though she had pictured just the best trousers to go with it in the back of her mind as she absentmindedly replied back, "Again, sis, we all have done it."

You noticed the way she kept glancing at her phone, with a smile threatening to spill across her features. You raised your eyebrows and smacked your lips together, blinking curiously. She finally looked up and saw that you were staring at her so she grinned, "Guess who has a date tonight?"

"A date?" You asked, absentmindedly.

"Clark asked me out, [Y/N]. He is taking me to this really good Thai place that opened up in the suburbs and I just couldn't decide on what to wear!! This will just go perfectly with my jeans."

It happened so suddenly, but it still did. You felt like someone had just ripped your gut out with bare hands. You suddenly felt empty, was an understatement. You suddenly felt strange and cut off, and everything around you suddenly felt cold and distant and gloomy. You looked up at her, your earlier warmth having dissipated into a cold, dark look and you gave her a smile, biting your lip, "That's great, Lois. Have fun."

Lois noticed the way your face fell, but she couldn't understand or take the hint. She kept watching as you moved away, turning your back towards her and didn't utter another word. She parted her lips, wanting to ask her what had gone wrong suddenly, but decided not to, or rather, keep the discussion for another time. She didn't want Clark to reach before she had even gotten ready. You didn't step out of your bedroom, that night when Lois returned from her date with Clark, and Lois frowned when she saw that the lights to your bedroom were already switched off. You were a late sleeper.

Two months later,

Lois looked up from the article that she had been reading to find you enter the dining room with a breakfast plate in your hand.

"Mornin'," you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you sat down on a chair in front of her, next to your father, Sam Lane. Your father looked up from the newspaper that he was reading, and glanced at Lois who shrugged her shoulders in response and he cleared the throat.

"Honey, don't you think you've been locking yourself up in your room for long now? When was the last time you actually did something that didn't involve either the bed, or your office desk?" The cutting crispness in his voice was enough to slice through your heart, but weirdly, you felt nothing, ecen when you heard Lois gasp and mumble something to her father in protest.

"What do you want me to do, dad?" You asked, sipping your juice, your eyes fixed to your plate.

Ignoring you, Sam turned towards his elder daughter as he narrowed his eyes at her, his loud, booming voice echoing through your house, "Lois, what the hell happened at work? She just quit? And didn't even give a damn valid reason as to what on earth happened?"

"I don't know, dad. She hardly talks to me anymore," Lois replied.

You chuckled dryly to yourself, wondering when you had become so invisible to the world. You were right there with them and yet they regarded you like you weren't even there.

"It was difficult to get you job at the Daily Planet and look at you, throwing it away for whatever the hell the reason was." Your dad barked.

Your fingers clenched into a fist and Lois visibly tensed. Hurriedly, she stood up and announced that she was leaving. You stood up too, but not for work, but rather to go back to the place that you had locked yourself in for the past two months. When you reached the door, you turned around and regarded your father, mumbling, "Why would you care anyway? You never really did before."

You kicked open your room door and slammed it back shut again as you ran straight for your bed. You were trembling like a leaf trying to detach itself from the tree when you buried your face into the pillow and screamed as loudly as you could into it. You were a mess, a walking , talking, living, breathing mess.

You cried, for almost thirty minutes, until you were out of tears. You then sat up and rubbed your eye sockets, finally taking a deep breath. You were letting Clark and Lois affect you so much, you had forgotten what it was like to live normally. How were you supposed to go on like this? If you wouldn't take a command of your own life again, then how would learn to get back up on your feet? When would you learn to accept that you would never get Clark? He wasn't the one for you.

Feelings are so transient, it's like you can feel them slicing through your insides one minute, and then the other minute, you feel unrealistically numb.

With those sorts of destructive thoughts in your mind, you sneaked a bottle of whiskey that night from your father's liquor cabinet at two am at night. You rolled the window pane and snuck out onto the fire escape until you were climbing up towards the roof the building of your apartment, the bottle in tow.

You fixed yourself on the ledge, using your teeth to twist the bottle cap as you took a swig of it, feeling the warm liquid burn your relentless thirst for relief. Sip after sip, you kept staring at the starless sky, mediating your gaze from the sky down to the glittery buildings.

"Will I ever forget you, Clark Kent?" You whispered, into the thin air, laughing bitterly at yourself as you took the last sip from the bottle before it rolled away. The way the lights glimmered in front of you, and one of two cars drove past your building, looking like tiny little blinking lights from the height you were at, you realized one thing. No matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop for your grief.

You were lost in a turbulence of your own thoughts, so entangled into them, you didn't hear the soft thud somewhere behind you, neither the sound of the faintest footsteps that got closer to you, with every passing second. You took a sharp breath, and slowly stepped over the ledge, feeling shudders all over your frame as the winds hit you all over you. You footing, however, slipped, a sharp scream erupting from your lips as you fell backwards against gravity, your heart almost stopping.

Someone suddenly reached out towards you, gripping your wrist, leaving you hanging from the ledge, your body flailing in the air.

He pulled you with a jerk towards you, and your body hit his front, your hair falling all over your face partially covering it. You felt intoxicated, so much, that you had almost died by falling off the building but you didn't feel the scare, the only thing you felt was a sudden surge of adrenaline.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Superman growled, through gritted teeth, his eyes sparkling as you jerked you by your shoulders.

"Clark? Is -- that you?!" You slurred, holding on to his cape tight to hold you in place. You were in a weird state of mind, you could see that it was him, but you couldn't figure out if it really was him, or if it was your mind that was playing an illusion on you.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Clark fumed, still holding on to you by the low of your back. He suddenly jumped off the ledge, with you in tow, away from the edge, so the two of you were in the middle of the roof now.

"K-Kill myself? No, I.. I.." You stammered, struggling for the right words but your brain felt frozen.

"Two months, and you don't show yourself. And when I finally see you, you're trying to jump off a fucking building?!" His eyes just then fell on the empty whiskey bottle. He growled, clenching his fists tight as he let go off you and walked up to the where the bottle lay, his cape flying behind him. He bent, lifting it up as he examined it, noticing how the neck of the bottle had your lipstick imprints on it. "And you're drunk. To top it up a notch."

Your nostrils flared in an anger you hadn't experienced ever before, your secret feelings finally crushing you completely, mixed with the alcohol that was rushing through your blood. You growled, like a cornered animal, that was wounded yet didn't want to back down. You pushed him, once, twice, throwing out all your pent up anger and frustration into his steely body like he felt no hurt. You screamed, you lashed, you scratched and you cried, finally coming undone, like beads of a rosary coming apart and scattering all over the floor.

Clark's heart broke at the sight of you. He had always seen you as a strong, happy woman, always smiling for him whenever he saw you at work. And this woman, that stood in front of his eyes right now, was far from it.

"I am not weak! I wouldn't kill myself! You give yourself too much importance, to think that someone would give their life for you!" You lashed out.

You were tired of hitting him like a punching bag. He grabbed you by your wrists, holding them together in front of you, pressed against his chest. He slowly moved, so he was towering over you, his back shielding you from unwanted, prying eyes as he gazed into your eyes, trying to find the answer to where all of this was coming from.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Come on, Lois is worried about you."

You couldn't stop yourself when your hand jerked itself free from his hold, and your palm struck his cheek. There was a crackling noise, of skin against skin, and tears formed in your eyes when the realisation hit you, all the intoxication washing off of you. You had just slapped Superman, a man that could snap your neck by grabbing your throat. Yet, he just stood there, too shocked to even register that you had slapped him right across his face and what was worse, he couldn't understand the reason you had done that. Anger was surfing through his veins, but worse than the anger that he was feeling, he was feeling like someone had pulled his heart out, ripping it to shreds right in front of his eyes.

"Why?" He let go off your other hand, his own palm coming to rest against his cheek as you gave you a look full of hurt.

"Why did you even save me, Clark? You should have let me fall. Atleast, it would have spared me the pain of listening to her name flow out of your lips again."

"Why do you hate her so much? She is your sister, [Y/N] and she cares for you. She worries that you're killing yourself and she doesn't know the reason why--" Clark was losing his temper, slowly but surely. He didn't understand you and that was eating him up.

"The reason why? WHY??! Oh Clark can you stop? And listen to yourself. I love Lois, but she needs to stop trying to govern my life. I'm allowed to feel sad, I'm allowed to feel a fucking heartbreak--" You didn't realise, but your lips were trembling now, your eyes leaking salty tears. You shivered when you felt Clark hold you by your shoulders but you didn't push his arms away.

"Who broke your heart?" He whispered, his voice cracking.

"You're fucking daft for a man who saves the world--" Hissing bitterly , you pushed yourself away from Clark's grip and turned towards the ledge but this time, you didn't try anything that would risk your life. You simply revelled in the cold feeling of the wind striking your tear stained face as you took a punctured breath, feeling Clark's breath on the side of your neck.

"Who broke your heart?" He asked again, but this time it was much softer, and it made you bite down on your lip to hold yourself from breaking into a hysterical crying.

"You did, Clark. You broke my heart." You finally whispered, staring into the abyss in front of you, your eyes cloudy and your throat parched as you continued, your lips trembling, "I loved you. Always did, but you never looked at me. It was always Lois. And it killed me, watching you love her, knowing that you will never love me the way you love her--" Clark let you speak, he wanted to listen to you, for you to let it all out, all those bitter things that you had locked up inside your mind, that was slowly eating you up and killing you from the inside. "I am tired of everyone, for you, for my father and for the world to see me as the Other Lane, as Lois Lane's little sister. My name is [Y/N]. I like to draw although I am shit at it, I can sing in the showers and I hate partying. That is me. I want a normal relationship too, but it seems that the world is against me. I fell in love with one man, and turns out, he isn't even human, he is a freaking superhero from Krypton?"

Clark let out a gruff sounding snort, as he looked down at you. Reluctantly, he reached for a strand of hair that was sticking to your tear coated cheek, removing it and gently tucking it behind your ear. He felt a shudder run down your spine, with just a gentle touch of his hand and he smiled, biting his lip. How was he supposed to tell you what the truth was?

"You remember how we met at the cafeteria every morning ? And I let you take the coffee?"

You nodded, listening to him, trying to control the crying that had now turned to sniffles, as Clark kept speaking.

"And the countless times I ran into that elevator with you and me stuck inside for just two floors?"

"You must have been thinking how weird I was. How unlike Lois--" You began, but you were cut off by Clark's voice.

"I used to wonder if there was anything I could do to make the elevators stop working, so I'd get to spend more time with you. Wretched elevators, not once did anything go according to what I wanted." He mumbled, but he had a small smile playing on his lips, while you just looked on, staring at him in disbelief, wondering if your mind was playing jokes with you once again.

"I thought I would take Lois' help, to you know, figure out if you felt the same way, but you never said anything to her."

"What about the date? Lois and you went on?" You asked.

"Well, I --" he shrug, looking down at his feet, sheepishly, " Lois thought you would confess how you felt for me if we pretended to--"

You were too numb to react; so you just blinked in retaliation. Your blood ran cold, and you suddenly felt light headed. All this while, while you had secretly been pining for Clark Kent to love you back, was it actually the other way round? Was Clark going through the same thing wondering if you felt the same for him?

"That was cowardly." You hissed, through pursed lips, "Trying to pretend to be in love with my sister."

"I was in love with the other Lane," he bit his lip, his face slightly inclined towards you, so he was looking down at you, and you up at him, "I think you are amazing. You are intelligent, and smart. And you're unique. There are these little things I adore about you. The way you greeted everyone whenever I was around-- ranging from the security guard, to the building keepers at the Daily Planet.. the way you forgot to wipe your lips after drinking coffee, and you had this froth all over your upper lip giving you a faint moustache?" He chuckled because you literally let out a gasp, suddenly embarassed.

"Then there were those days you had a bad day and you locked yourself up in your cabin, working all day. I wondered if I should just knock, but I was scared you will tell me off--" he continued, his blues peeking into yours. Your stomach fluttering, you couldn't help but laugh, as though a weight had been lifted off your chest suddenly and held him steady with your hand on his arm. Finally mustering enough courage, you pushed yourself on your toes, and reached up, letting your palm graze delicately over his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb, "I would have never told you off, Clark. Though that's not what is bothering me right now."

"What is ?" He asked, innocently, relaxing under the touch of your thumb.

"You said you're in love with the other Lane, Clark."

His lips creased, slowly tugging upwards into a smile that was enough to make you feel giddy. Superman wrapped a sturdy arm around you and felt yourself being lifted off, until he was practically holding you in his arms, "Mhm, yep? You got a problem, Miss Lane? Or do Kryptonians don't fit the bill ?"

"Oh, hush, Clark. You're such a dork. But will you be.. my dork?" You bit your lip, holding on to him as though your life depended on it.

"I thought... you'd never ask?" He began, unsure of how to properly weave the complexity of his feelings , churn them into words, something only Clark Kent was good at , and not his alter ego, but found himself halted by the soft press of your index finger against his lips and the sweet whisper of your voice against his ears as he held you close.

“I know, neither did I.” You whispered as he clasped your face in his massive hands and gently touched his lips to yours.

Three years later,

This had probably been the longest that Clark Kent had been away from you, his lover, his best friend, his wife-- four months to be exact. Needless to say, he was excited to be able to see you again, to hold you again.

The familiar silhouette of the cottage on top of the hill came into his view, flowers hanging into tiny earthen pots hanging out on the front porch. The freshly painted white picket fence looked beautiful, and inviting as Lois stood with Martha by the gate, both the ladies sipping tea from their respective cups and saucers. They couldn't contain their smiles when they saw Clark, even though he was covered in what looked like grime and blown up alien intestines?

"I don't even want to know what happened," Lois chuckled, while Martha hugged her son and he kissed the side of her cheek before she scrunched up her nose in disgust at how awful he smelled.

"Well, I guess I'll draw you a bath, you two can talk out here until the baths ready." Both Clark and Lois watched as Martha Kent disappeared into the home and he smiled, when Lois spoke again.

"FYI, she is at the orchard, harvesting the apples for an apple pie," Lois gave him a smug look, fluttering her lashes, "Oh don't pretend you don't want to see her. I can see your eyes darting around, trying to find her. I'll be inside, both of you, just come back in for supper."

He nodded, watching Lois leave and slowly, his fists clenched on either of his sides, he found his way into the tiny orchard that his lovely wife loved to spend most of her time at. He fixed himself by the wooden gate, his eyes admiring you from afar, as you stood on your tiptoes and picked out apples, tossing them into the basket that you held in your arm.

"Need help, Mrs. Kent?"

The basket dropped from your hand as you turned towards the source of the voice, your lips parted in shock. Clark's eyes travelled from you down to your beautiful swollen bump that your loose maternity dress was doing nothing to hide. He chuckled at your response as he walked towards you with longer, faster steps while you simply waddled towards him.

"Jesus, Clark-- I thought you'd miss the birth," you cupped your husband's cheeks in between your swollen fingers as he nuzzled his nose against yours, before kissing you.

"How is my monkey?" He brought his palm to rest against your nine month old baby bump, stroking over the fabric as he whispered against your lips.

"Moving around, not letting me get an ounce of sleep," you smiled, letting your fingers rest over his hand that rested against your stomach, "but I cant really complain now, can I? After all the little nugget's got Kryptonian blood running through their veins."

Clark chuckled, his blue eyes crinkling slightly as he knelt down in front of you, his face in line with the base of your bump as he planted a kiss on the curve of it.

"Come on, Kal Jr, will you stop bothering your mom? She needs all the sleep she can before you push your way into the world and steal our goodnight sleeps for a while," you smiled warmly, as you peered down at him, running your fingers through his hair and he looked up at you, planting another kiss against your bump.

You suddenly frowned and looked at the brown mess on your fingers that stank.

"God, Clark? What the hell? Did you seriously take a dive in a shit pool?"

He chuckled as he pulled himself up again and his hand once again found the base of your stomach to lay his hand protectively upon.

"Alien blood. You should have seen the intestines that covered me. It looked like noddles dipped in black bean sauce and meatballs--" You smacked him hard against the chest to shut him up, but instead he began laughing, his laughter rumbling out of his stomach as you began dragging him inside with his stained cape.

#clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman #superman x reader #superman x you #kal el x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill

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silkylious · 3 years

Text

“I love you. Truly, deeply, eternally.” (Lucifer x Reader)

fandom: obey me! shall we date?

pairing: lucifer x gn reader

warnings: angst, fluff (mildly lol), suggestive (nothing explicit though!), bittersweet, ambiguous ending (??), unedited

wc: 2.1k

“Lucifer?” you called out to him on a whim, eyes trailing the seconds ticking away on his grandfather-clock.

“Yes?” he didn’t spare you a glance as he worked methodically through his second hill of paperwork; a heaping stack of duties assigned to him by Diavolo, endless bills–a consequence of Mammon’s latest spending spree, you ought to talk to him about those soon–and the sort piled neatly on his pristine desk, slowly but surely decreasing in size as Lucifer burned through the tedious task with unwavering efficiency. You felt exhausted just watching him work. Lucifer? He hadn’t so much as blinked more than three times in the past five minutes (yes, you counted). Obsidian sleeves rolled up just past his elbows, hair perfectly framing his face with one strand slightly out of place–hot–and a gentle crease between his brows (the only observable hint alluding to the mounting stress on his shoulders). He looked positively delectable, nothing like someone who’s been working diligently for hours without any breaks. But that just served as a testament to the fundamental difference between the two of you, you supposed.

“I’m in love with you,”

That made his meticulous fingers pause in their tracks.

“Pardon?”

As it turned out, his ears hadn’t, in fact, deceived him. You repeated the confession as if it weighed nothing on your tongue. You were strangely calm given the words you’d just blurted out; he almost didn’t recognize you. An unfamiliar shade of desperation painted all over your face, and yet your voice bared to him a serene conviction, one he’d never heard from you before. Lucifer’s heartbeat stumbled in your wake.

Basking in your courageous display just a second longer, he sighed. Too bad he’d have to mutilate such a pretty sight so soon.

That didn’t go exactly as he’d planned. The harsh rejection barely deterred you, leaving only a petulant pout on your lips and a promise that you’d come talk to him later.

Lucifer was anything but stupid. He knew that he let things stray too far between you, knew it was his fault for not pulling away from your kisses and instead indulging you (and himself) to the fullest. His fault for ignoring the guilt that settled deep in his gut like hunks of steel when you looked at him like he’d never experienced before. Lucifer had lived for many millennia, had relished the warmth of countless passionate lovers and faceless hookups, none of which had ever set him alight from the inside out like your adoring gaze had. It terrified him how after all these years, watching humans thrive and collapse over and over again, he thought he’d seen everything there is to see, all that humans had to offer. And then you come along, reinventing what love meant right before his eyes, with a simple look no less.

He never intended for you to fall in love with him, and he never intended to reciprocate. Had he been mortal, maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated. But life dealt a cruel hand, and he wasn’t. A relationship like yours was doomed to crumble in heartache from the start, it was best to stop it before things went too far. That was the plan anyway.

You didn’t share the same sentiment.

With one last exasperated sigh, Lucifer focused his attention back on his duties. He didn’t know how long he could hold up against your persistence, and honestly he preferred not to dwell on it. Whatever outcome lied for the both of you in the near future, itching one step closer with each tick on the clock, he’d face it head on when it was time.

Meanwhile, you laid wide awake, in your bed, rethinking every decision that led you here. You didn’t regret your confession, nor were you keen on giving up, but Lucifer’s ruthless rejection, his vehement claim that a relationship between a human and a demon is destined to end in tragedy festered a bud of doubt in you. You noted pettily that he hadn’t outright denied any feelings for you. How could he? Lucifer was many, ugly things but a liar’s not one of them; you wouldn’t believe him even if he did lie, not with how delicately he holds your hand in his gloved one, not with how heartbreakingly beautiful he was when he lets you in at his lowest, stripped completely of his pride.

You knew though, that as much as Lucifer was a creature of the past, he was a creature of regrets.

Somehow, you’d managed to reach the heart of the Avatar of Pride himself, bestowing a porcelain touch on it and subsequently rocking the monotony of his endless life. Despite the acknowledgment of both your feelings, you weren’t naïve enough to dismiss how his heart drums thousands of years apart from yours and would continue to do so long after yours gave its last valiant pump.

He was a creature of the past you realized; humans intently watch minutes, hours, years approach because there’s only so much of them live out, there’s only so much to do in a lifetime. Naturally it would be counterintuitive to waste scarce time on the past. The immortal have no such concern. When time is limitless, and life is all but a blur of recycled events, its only instinctive to lose interest in what’s to come. And you guessed, maybe there was a strange comfort in the predictability of eternity, maybe that’s why Lucifer was so offput by the notion of something serious yet temporary, especially romance.

You decided. You wouldn’t let him look back and ponder what ifs in that stubborn head of his, not while you were still breathing. With regained determination, you glanced one last time at your countertop alarm and entered a dreamless slumber.

Not even two days later, three consecutive raps on his door made Lucifer rub at his temples for the nth time and begrudgingly called for you to enter. Piled on his desk were several stacks of papers (as was the usual), though, that night he was in a particularly sour mood. Ever since your confession, he’d been feeling uneasy, Diavolo hurling more work at him last minute was only pushing him to his wit’s end.

“Lucifer,” he hummed in response, not bothering to conceal his growing agitation. “we need to talk,”

Ah, there it was. He was wondering when you’d confront him again.

“I believe I made myself quite clear last time,” he sighed, dropping his pen and finally meeting your eyes. “If this is about your feelings again then I’m sorry but I can’t–”

“But why? Can you really say that what we have isn’t special at all?” your lower lip quivered just a bit and Lucifer had to fight the immediate reflex of holding you close and hushing your worries. His impassiveness quickly arose frustration out of you. “God Damnit, Lucifer! All I want is to be with you while I still can! To die with no regrets, knowing you’ll be there with me, but it’s very fucking hard to do that when you’re too scared of the future to do something about–about us!”

It was a low blow to go after his pride, you knew that, but he wasn’t giving you much to work with.. Rubbing salt in a ghastly wound had certainly done the trick, the dimmed crimson that pooled just below his pupil began to shine scarlet. You would have found it gorgeous had it not been imbued with near murderous intent. Lucifer’s poker face was rapidly breaking, a horrid mix of anger and melancholy sat heavy in his throat. He was looking straight at you, but his eyes were somewhere else, some time else. He was staring hundreds of years behind you at an unhealed, poorly bandaged cut. An everlasting guilt he carried with him everywhere.

“What would you know about regret?” he breathed out the words like they’re bullets, whatever restraint he’d managed to scarp together deteriorating. He stepped closer, each stride bigger than the last as he closed the distance between you, a perfect diamond manifesting on his forehead and you could see the beginnings of black feathers sprouting from his back. “Do you have the slightest clue what a blessing mortality is? Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to live with your regrets and not be able to die with them?”

“You’re right. I don’t,” you stood your ground. “But, do you really want to live with one more regret to bear?”

He kissed you. He kissed you like he hated you, animosity and anger and pain and, most prominently, pining spilling from his lips. Lucifer parted from you just as quickly as he’d initiated the kiss, taking the time to let his irritation bleed out of him, until he was left grappling with (frankly terrifying) longing and adoration. Just this once, he’d take a leap of faith, he’d break his own rigorous code and take the risk of undying heartache in the future to be with you in the now.

One kiss turned into many, and soon you found yourselves stumbling your way from his office to his bedroom. He couldn’t get enough of you, the thought that some day he would be deprived of you broke him and made him yearn to cherish you just as much. Precious things aren’t meant for longevity, he learned. All the more reason to treasure them when given the chance. You were pushed onto his bed and not once did his hands and mouth and breath leave your skin; he couldn’t bear sever that connection.

Before long, your hands were pined to the mattress, fingers tightly laced with his as if he was petrified the moment will break and a thousand years would pass you by the instant he let go.

“I love you. Truly and deeply.”

Neither of you heard the clock strike midnight.

Lucifer was well-acquainted with sleepless nights. He was no stranger to the prick at the corner of his eye, excruciatingly familiar with midnight’s cold, lonely touch. But this one was different. Where usually lied a cool emptiness in his sheets, your warm, inviting body was just in reach. Where the corners of his mind were usually plagued by past mistakes and sorrowful repentance, you were all he could think about. He reflected on your words now that the high of emotions had worn off. He still disagreed with you on many things and, if he was being true to himself, it would take more than one night to abandon his reluctance, much more. But he was willing to put in his fair share of effort. He was willing to do many things for you, he mused. You were right about one thing though, regardless of whether or not he acted on his feelings, your parting would hurt all the same. Part of him was still resentful that he let himself fall so deeply in love with you, and a part of him knew it couldn’t be helped. You’d carved a home for yourself out of his heart, invited yourself in and declared pompously you’d be there to stay, and he’d be damned to hell all over again if he said he didn’t like that.

Pulling you closer to leech off your warmth, for the first time in forever, he dreamt of the future, a future with you.

Snapping out his reverie, Lucifer refocused his vision on the framed picture before him. It’s been a couple dozen years, the pain dulled into a hollow longing, and yet not a single regret weighed on his back. He was astonished, how you, who had lived but a fraction of his own lifetime, had such impeccable foresight. He lays in bed every night and morning thanking you for not giving up, knowing that if you had, he’d be spending the rest of his infinite days in self-loathing regret.

All Lucifer could ask for now is a little guidance. What was he to do now? Was he even capable of falling in love again after you? Would he allow it? All questions that began frequenting his head since you’re no longer there to occupy it. He only knew is that he’d love you, and love you, and love you until this world fell apart. He toyed with the idea of reincarnation. It certainly wasn’t out of the realm of possibility; he saw you in everything he did. Strange how you’d taught him more about appreciating every day’s mundanities than he had in the many eons he’s been alive. Lucifer wonders about the possibility of you donning the same white wings he once had back in the Celestial Realm. If you ever did, he wonders about the complications that would arise from that, he wonders if you’d even remember him. All Lucifer was left with was a simple truth. If you ever came back, whichever form you may take, he’d welcome you back into the adobe of his heart without a second thought.

He ran his thumb over your smile, a bittersweet acceptance in his own.

“I love you. Truly, deeply, eternally.”

Obey me! taglist: @katsucookie @strwbry-m1lk (you wanted to be tagged in this one lol) join my taglist here! <3

#obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x y/n #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer angst

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golden-wingseos · 3 years

Text

from him, the sun - baizhu

featuring —

✧ baizhu x gn!reader

warnings ―

✧ written before baizhu's release (is he ever going to get released??)

notes ―

✧ e

synopsis ―

✧ for a seasoned adventurer like you, getting injured was a phenomenon all-too common. determined to escape from bubu pharmacy, it seems things didn't go as planned... because you were caught.

“Today, I will escape.” You thought with a determined expression, fists clenched as you peeked out the door of your confinement room.

Baizhu—the head of Bubu Pharmacy—was very used to your visits. So much so, that he had a day in the week reserved for you solely because you had managed to get injured so much.

Was it a skill? Definitely. For a high-caliber adventurer like you, getting injured so often was only a trademark of how cool you were.

Was it an opportunity to get to know the handsome-yet-mysterious owner of the Pharmacy? Yes. Though, you had made no advances.

But now! Now, you’ve had enough! Baizhu had told you to stay put in your room so you could ‘heal’ or whatever— but that’s lame!

Hearing no footsteps and seeing no people, you had concluded: Wow. They’re finally gone. Even Qiqi had remembered enough to not let you worsen your leg injury, so she was definitely off limits.

Taking a single step out into the lobby, you glanced around once more, the sharp smell of herbs stinging your nose and lungs as they seemed to pierce your dull senses.

“I’m free!” You exclaimed, speedwalking (so your leg wouldn’t act up) straight out of the pharmacy. You may not be from Mondstadt— but damn! Bless Barbatos! Let the Wind Lead!

“Is that so?”

You ignored that voice. Nope! You were most definitely free!

Of course, that was until a hand reached out— grabbing the back of your collar and refraining you from taking any more steps out and towards the light.

Holding you firmly like a dog by a collar, you didn’t bother to turn around to see who your captor was. Seriously, even though the man holding you like an animal was supposed to be ‘fragile’ and ‘frail’, there was absolutely nothing frail about him!

“Ah hah… ayeee…” Averting your eyes from his own golden ones, the kind smile on the male’s face indicated that he had already anticipated your sudden patriotic ‘escape’ before you had even thought of it.

Damn intelligent men.

“Is your leg feeling better?” Baizhu settled you lightly on the floor, side-eyeing you just in case you’d decide to make a break for it again.

“Yes, very much so. It’s so much better that I feel like I can go outside and ru—”

“Hm… it seems to still be swelling. Hold on for a moment, I’ll get you some ointment.” Not falling for your obvious lie, Baizhu began sorting through some bottles on the counter behind the reception desk, complicated names and texts scribbled across their lids.

“Here, hold still,” Gesturing for you to sit atop the desk, Baizhu began to roll the hem of your pants up, taking the ointment across his fingertips and smearing it on the swell of your shin.

“Oh, it feels better!” You exclaimed in awe, about to flail your leg around if it weren’t for the warm hand resting on your knee, signaling you to stop whatever dumb move you were about to do.

“Now, you should go back to your room. We wouldn’t want you getting more injured in futile attempts to run off into the sunset.” Smiling innocently, you swore there was a hint of cheekiness in that delicate face of his.

“Eh?” You gasped, stumbling once Baizhu ushered you back into the treatment room, your figure visibly deflating as you tried convincing the pharmacist otherwise.

“Please? Please? Can I just watch you play with your drugs or something? WHY? I don’t want to go back! It’s boring!” Whining like a toddler, Baizhu could merely sigh at your antics before abruptly stopping, pausing you alongside him.

“Okay. Just make sure not to strain yourself, alright?”

“HUH? Baizhu caring about me?! Since when?!”

“. . . I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

[❦]

It seems that fateful interaction was what led you to be sitting in the very corner of Baizhu’s herb room, watching him sort through different kinds of leaves as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

I think I’ll get intoxicated by just sitting in here, covering your nose in an attempt to shield yourself from the pungent smell of just vegetation and weird materials. It was no surprise that the ever-observant Baizhu noticed your change in posture.

“You don’t have to sit here and watch, go get some rest.” The male turned over to you, hands dusted with all shades of colors thanks to the items he was handling just earlier.

“No, it’s okay. What you’re doing looks interesting.” Overcoming the smell, you quickly stood up, shuffling over to the empty spot beside the pharmacist.

“Would you like to learn about the different kinds of remedial herbs?” He queried nonchalantly. Yet at that moment, you swore Baizhu was one of the prettiest— if not the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

His pale green hair reflected in the light like a mirror, rays of pinks and yellows appearing in his hair as if pixie dust had been sprinkled all over it. Then your eyes trailed down to his neck, which did not host the pearl white snake you had grown so accustomed to.

Strange, yet gorgeous. Baizhu was perhaps a specimen, an enigma in the galaxy that you have yet to figure out. Like Venus, all you could do was admire from afar, hoping that he’d notice you in the sea of millions.

And perhaps in this moment, he did. He gazed at you generously, fondly, even. Like a moonflower untouched by mankind, you quickly averted your eyes from that same generous gaze— worried that your heart may explode at this rate.

Maybe, Baizhu was like the sun. Untouchable and bright, a being you saw every day yet hardly knew much about you. And you— you were the sunflower. Prospering under his care and touch, this brief interaction of silent observation would certainly be one that’d remain timeless.

“... Sure.” Snapping out of your trance, you quickly turned away from him. Your ears felt hot, heart thumping in your chest so fast you were worried your rib cage couldn’t contain the organ anymore.

Feigning obliviousness to your dazed expression, Baizhu began picking up different types of herbs, listing their names so fluently you wondered if it was another language you were yet to learn.

Foreign names like chamomile and feverfew popped up, ginseng and ginger being familiar to your ears because Mr. Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor oftentimes made tea out of such herbs. Perhaps you should thank the amber-eyed man later for being so knowledgeable in teas.

“[Name]?” The pharmacist paused, using this brief moment to look at you, “are you okay? You don’t have to listen, you can even go walk around the harbor if you want.”

The idea was tempting, like a dream turning into a reality. Yet something was pulling you back, like the Earth and the Sun. Maybe, just maybe you were Icarus. Baizhu was so close yet so far, and you only wanted to inch higher and higher, burning those wings made of wax in the process.

No. A more ideal comparison would be of the rainbow bird— or was it? You couldn’t tell. Tempting like a golden apple during a race for love, tantalizing like wafting food in front of a starving man.

But today. Today, you will take your chance.

“It’s alright. I’d rather be here with you anyways,” your voice dipped into a whisper, like a river running dry or a bird’s call being silenced mid-scream.

Was this alright? Was it alright to backpedal on an opportunity you had yearned for for so long?

You swore you caught the faintest of red tipped onto Baizhu’s ears. Yes, he was definitely still the ever-enigmatic sun you had assumed of him originally,

But now— maybe you were just a little bit closer than before, though unlike Icarus— you had already fallen long before the sun could burn your wings.

#baizhu x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin oneshots #genshin headcanons #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact scenarios #genshin baizhu #baizhu #baizhu genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons

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lis-likes-fics · 3 years

Text

Lonely

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader Warnings: Uh, angst and loneliness Author’s Note: Idk, enjoy!

You were in the living room of the compound, reading a book and enjoying the company of Elijah next to you, reading his own. Suddenly, Klaus came walking into the room, a smirk plastered on his face.

When you looked up and saw the look, you rolled your eyes, dropping the book. "What did you do this time, Klaus?"

He gave you a look, "Whatever do you mean?" Elijah, not looking up from his book, answered, "The last time you looked like that, we found you painting with the blood of a vampire who gave you the wrong look."

He smirked, remembering the time and commenting, "The perfect shade I needed for my piece." You rolled your eyes and said, "What did you do?"

Klaus simply answered, "I am simply going on a little trip out of town for a few days."

"To do what?" Elijah questioned, finally looking up from his book. Klaus shrugged, "A small getaway. A vacation, if you will."

You narrowed your eyes and he put his hands up in innocence. He wasn't lying. You knew that much.

"We could make it a family thing." He added. Elijah simply answered, "That is not a vacation, Niklaus, that is a death sentence."

"Don't be so dramatic, brother." He told him in reply, "What do you say, Mikaelsons on vacation."

Elijah looked over at you and turned back to his brother, narrowing his eyes. "Just a vacation?"

Klaus raised his hand in a scout's honor, "You have my word. Rebekah, Kol, and Freya have already agreed."

Elijah hesitated before nodding, "Why not?" He closed his book and stood. Klaus smirked more, "Excellent."

Elijah turned to you, offering his hand and asking, "Come pack with me?"

You smiled and stood, giving him a quick kiss and saying, "As much as I would love to, this is a Mikaelson Vacation. Besides, you and your family need an excuse to have any kind of fun together. I'll stay here."

Elijah gave you a concerned look, asking, "Are you sure you'll be fine by yourself?" You nodded to him, telling him not to worry, "I'm a big girl."

He smiled at you and leaned in, giving you a kiss. Klaus rolled his eyes, leaving the room.

The next day, the Mikaelsons were off, leaving you alone at the compound. Ten minutes in, you found that reading wasn't going to cut it.

Elijah's concern was correctly placed, he wanted to make sure you were okay by yourself. You really should have planned something for yourself as well.

You couldn't stand being by yourself for too long. To your knowledge, they would be back before the end of the week, and you didn't know how long you would last but you would make due.

An hour after they left, you called your friend to see if she was doing anything.

"Hello?" Cami asked on the other end.

You smiled, "Hey, Cami. Are you doing anything right now?"

She answered, "Working. My break is soon."

You asked, "You think you could hang after?"

She responded, "Yeah, think so. I'll text you if anything comes up."

You smiled, "Awesome, I'll meet you there then."

Later then, you met Cami at Rousseau's. She smiled among seeing you and, for an hour, you enjoyed your time with your friend by talking about a subject that didn't concern vampires or werewolves or witches.

After, she went back to work and you were left by yourself again.

You walked the compound. It was empty, silent, and deserted. It was uncomfortable for you, but you assumed you'd manage. After all, you'd grown up in a house with people who seemed to ignore you all the time. You were used to being by yourself, you just didn't like to be. Yeah, that's it.

The time came for bed and you found yourself in your shared bedroom with Elijah, cuddling up in his bed. You found comfort in the familiar surroundings, but it was strange for it to be empty. To have his spot next to you empty.

You grabbed one of his pillows and hugged it tightly as you eventually fell asleep.

You woke up, still by yourself. The deathly silence deafening.

The next few days passed slowly and painfully. You spent whatever time you could with friends, but found that most of them were busy. So you were by yourself most of that time.

Elijah called a few times and he stayed on the phone with you for a while. He'd only really stopped talking when one of his siblings would pull him to do something with them. He'd hang up and you'd end up by yourself again.

It was so lonely.

You couldn't handle it as much as you'd hoped. You found yourself pacing the room and talking to yourself as if there was someone there.

It was hard being by yourself. You rather enjoyed being in a house full of vampires because at least there were people around you. It kept your crippling fear of being alone at bay.

That night you went to bed, clutching Elijah's pillow to you. After a while, you eventually fell asleep.

You wandered around nothing. There was no other word to describe it. That's what it was. Nothing.

No one was there. There was no sound, no sight, no one. Everything was gone. There was just you by yourself and nothing else.

You called out and you weren't even left with an echo. Just nothing.

"Elijah?" You called. "Hello?"

There was absolutely no response. "Anybody?!"

Nothing. You were alone, by yourself. You were lonely.

You couldn't help but cry. You looked around and you couldn't tell if your eyes were close or not. You couldn't even feel the tears on your face.

You continued to cry and cry. It was tiring but you couldn't sleep. There was nothing to do. There was nothing.

"Please, is anyone there!" You cried out, surrounded by darkness. "Anybody?!"

There was no response. No one was there. Suddenly, you heard your name but you weren't sure if it was real. "Y/N."

You hopelessly cried out, "Yes? Yes! Is anybody there? Please!"

No response.

"Please!"

"Y/N."

"Yes?!"

"Wake up."

You found yourself jolting awake, surrounded by the familiar room you'd fallen asleep in. You felt the tears on your face as you caught your breath.

"Y/N." A voice said beside you. You jerked your head over and saw Elijah. You sucked in a breath and pulled him close to you. You cried into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

He shushed you calmly as he calmed you down, slowing your tears and whispering little words to you. "Forgive me." He told you.

You shook your head, "You didn't do anything, 'Lijah."

He shook his head then, "I left you. I should not have done so."

"No, it's not your fault. I just got a little...spooked."

He pulled your head back a little to look in your eyes, "No, you were frightened. I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have stayed."

"No, you needed time with your family."

"You are my family. You are my life. I love you, Y/N, and I will love you always and forever. I promise, I won't leave you alone again. You have my word." He told you, holding you close. He kissed your temple soothingly.

You smiled and buried your face in his chest as you whispered. "I love you, too, Elijah."

Always and Forever taglist: @avala-moon @xxwritemeastoryxx @melodiclovesong @thebrotherssalvatore321 @strangerliaa @njeancastro316 @dumble-daddy

Suit and Staglist: @avala-moon @xxwritemeastoryxx @melodiclovesong @thebrotherssalvatore321 @strangerliaa @njeancastro316 @dumble-daddy @mrs-salvawhore

#elijah #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson #elijahmikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson x you #fanfiction #fanfic #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the originals #the originals fanfiction #the originals x reader

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viperbarnes · 3 years

Text

The Tie That Binds – [Three of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: This is entirely un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!

<- Prev / Next ->

You’ve just stepped out of the grocery store when you’re half-barrelled into by something big and solid. Instead of falling, like you expect, when the moment passes, you realise not only are you standing upright, but that your arms have been relieved of the two heavy paper bags you’d previously held.

It takes you second to fully process the situation, but when you do, you find yourself blinking up at the smug face of Bucky Barnes, your load now tucked easily under his arm, looking a whole lot smaller than when you’d struggled to pick them up.

“Wha– I thought you were away?!” You let yourself gasp in belated surprise, resting a hand over your heart momentarily. He wears sunglasses, which you find odd considering it wasn’t exactly bright out, but you’re still a little too taken aback by his sudden appearance to really make note of it.

“And miss our shopping trip?” He asks, voice filled with mock horror.

“You can’t shake me off that easy. I stick.” The smugness melts from his features, replaced by something softer as you shake your head at him, beginning to walk.

Almost a whole month and a half of these regular, strange meetings, and the two of you had fallen into something that felt a lot like friendship, but crucially, wasn’t quite. Usually he’d help you with your groceries, sometimes you’d corner him at a cafe and seemingly quiz him on aspects of HYDRA and your capture. It was… comfortable, and you hated to admit it, but you’d sorely missed actual human interaction.

Bucky moves to walk beside you on the footpath, and you eye him. You understand why he wears sunglasses now, at this angle you could clearly see the large purple and black bruise around the ring of his eye, and when you take a closer, less subtle look at his clothing, you realise he’d simply thrown on his heavy winter coat over top of what looked like a blue motorcycle jacket.

“You know I would have been just fine if you had somewhere else to be…” You venture, shifting your eyes away from him as you speak. Bucky glances down at you, and then at his attire.

“Just got back.” He says shortly, though you’ve come to know that was just his way sometimes.

“Most people might go take a shower… get some sleep… not go help some lady with her shopping.” You muse.

The slight smugness returns to his face and his gait and he swings his head to look down at you with a corny grin, only added to by the shades.

“Most people aren’t me.” He tells you cockily, leaning down slightly to emphasise this. He leans back again moments later, as if considering you, and you squirm a little under his gaze.

“Besides, I think you like having someone do the heavy liftin’.” It’s still part of his act, something halfway between a shadow of himself from a different time, and a romance lead perhaps.

You noticed he fell back on humour, on sarcasm or this faux personality whenever he felt like his true response wouldn’t be acceptable. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice the shifts so clearly, but you do. You did the same thing any time you had to interact with another human being.

Still, the way it makes butterflies appear in your chest sends you off kilter every time, not just because it was him, but because it had been a solid amount of time since anybody spoke to you or flirted with you like you were a halfway decent option. Especially someone who looked like Bucky.

You weren’t blind, you’d recognised his objective attractiveness long ago, somewhere in a dimly lit room, where tracing his jawline was a distraction from whatever else.

But it was different now. He wasn’t just the tragically beautiful assassin you were forced to work on, he was… Bucky.

An almost friend.

Bucky.

You scoff at his display, and at any fleeting notion that he’d even really look at you twice, and shake your head.

“I can’t say it doesn’t help on the days my hands shake too much… Lost one too many cartons of eggs to that.” You chortle at your own past predicament.

You miss the way Bucky’s smile falters, and his shoulders drop, and he forces himself to look away from you for several seconds.

“Where were you, anyway?” You ask, changing the subject as you come to a set of lights. Bucky shifts your groceries to his other arm and cocks his head at you.

“I’m pretty sure our deal was that I answer questions about what I used to do. Didn’t think my current shenanigans were on the table…?” You see an eyebrow rise above the lens of the glasses, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. I didn’t want to hear about your sidekick stuff anyway.” You turn away from him slightly only for him to step into your view again.

“Sidekick? You call me a sidekick?” Bucky sounds almost genuinely offended, and you scoff, leaving him trailing behind you when the walking light turns green and you make for the other side of the street.

“Please, you’re basically a professional sidekick.” You can’t keep the grin from your lips now as Bucky hurries to catch up with you, his brow now in a deep set frown.

“That’s unkind. That’s hurtful.” He tells you, truly, honestly pouting.

“I’ll have you know my sidekick stuff is extremely interesting.” He continues, sticking his nose up a little now. You shrug.

“Probably, but you didn’t wanna tell me about it so…” You spin to face him as you speak, stopping on your apartment buildings stoop.

Bucky still pouts as you blindly buzz yourself in, taking towards the stairs right away. Bucky follows, and you realise a little too late that he never usually came inside with you. He’d usually hand over your things at the door. Truthfully, as dismissive as you were being, you were actually rather glad he’d shown up, and you weren’t quite ready yet to part ways.

The rest of the climb to your floor is filled with Bucky huffing about how cool his job was, and you internally wondering if it was too weird to invite him inside. Your fear of the man had all but evaporated, despite the frequent dreams you’d been having, but you wonder if letting him into your home would change that.

Your apartment was your sanctuary. You had escape routes mapped just in case, you’d organised your things so that there was always some kind of makeshift weapon available to you in every room… considering these plans were made with his last break-in in mind, you’re not sure how your subconscious might react to having him physically within your space again.

You act as natural as possible, and when you do reach your door, you force yourself to steady your hand as you unlock it. Bucky had stopped even his playful whining, and you know he isn’t ignorant to the current situation.

Stepping inside, you hold your door open with your hip and casually jerk your head in the direction of your kitchen.

“That can just go on the counter.” You say, cursing the slight shake in your words. You continue ahead of him quickly, even as you hear your door close shut behind you, depositing your purse and coat on the sofa.

Bucky does as you say, and you turn in time to see him step back from the countertop, his eyes darting around the space quickly.

A different kind of anxiety rolls over you then, and you regret having not tidied up a little before inviting him inside.

“It’s a little messy…” You apologise, sweeping some dust from the nearest surface and scrunching your nose. Bucky blinks at you and frowns, opening his mouth, but you accidentally cut him off as another thought hits you.

“And I’m sorry about the cold… The window keeps breaking.” You gesture to the main window in your living space, rolling your eyes a little.

Bucky’s face morphs into a frown as he looks past you to the window in question, a plastic bag duct taped over a portion.

“Your windows broken?” He asks, concern filling his voice.

“It keeps happening. My landlord employs the cheapest handyman in the city, I swear to god…” You roll your eyes again and try to brush it off with a laugh, but Bucky’s face doesn’t change, even as he looks back to you.

“It’s the middle of winter.” He states, and then before you can reply, he straightens, his frown of displeasure shifting into one of determination.

“I’ll fix it.”

---

Bucky replays the clips on his phone one last time, making sure he properly understood the instruction, before he moves to copy it.

A short trip to the hardware store later, he’s back in your apartment, sat awkwardly on your windowpane as he finishes up replacing the lower piece of glass. He’d made sure the piece he’d bought was hardy, and unlikely to cause you future problems. He can’t imagine how cold it would have gotten in your place with a broken window, and tries not to scowl.

You linger nearby, having put your groceries away and offered him coffee, you now sit on your couch pretending that you weren’t watching him.

He doesn’t blame you for eyeing him just as nervously as you had on his first few visits with you. Seeing each other out and about was one thing, but he doesn’t underestimate the amount of trust you were showing in allowing him into your home. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’d be extending such liberties if he were you.

But he’s glad for it, if not only for selfish reasons.

It was easy for Bucky to pretend he didn’t know your status to one another. He’d ignored the little black mark long enough, ignored the urge to seek you out (before he knew you were you) so it really wasn’t that different for him. The only problem, and it wasn’t really a problem just yet, was that Bucky liked you.

He liked your jokes and your sass, he liked the way your expressions spoke louder than your words ever could, and how you didn’t even seem to realise you were making them half the time. He liked that you always seemed to have something interesting to add to a conversation, even on topics he wouldn’t have thought had much interest.

You were smart, and funny and cynical in all the same ways as him, and Bucky liked spending time with you. If he didn’t think it would make you uncomfortable, he’d hang around you a lot more.

Being friends with you was easy, in the same way that being friends with Sam was easy. He didn’t have to hold back certain information, or pretend he was something he wasn’t. You knew everything already, and for some reason, had decided you were okay with him sticking around.

“Do you think you’re going to find your soulmate?”

The question nearly makes him jump, as if you’d been looking right into his thoughts.

Bucky stops what he’s doing briefly and looks up at you. Your lips are pursed and your eyes move from his exposed wrist to his face. He coaches his face into what he might consider normal if the situation were different, and hums.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He clears his throat, and watches you shift your position on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you.

“I don’t know. It’s not really something I have to consider, so I guess I was just thinking about our situations… How it would feel.” You frown as you speak, and Bucky already knows you’re unsatisfied with how you’d answered. He stops completely and faces you, giving you his full attention.

“What do you mean?” He prompts. You think for a moment.

“I guess I just don’t know if I would.” You state, still frowning, though this time for an entirely different reason. Bucky feels something in his chest tighten.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the world… and I know your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect half, but there’s still choice involved, right? Not everyone chooses to be with their soulmate in the end…” Your eyes turn down to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

“I’m just not sure they’d want me.”

Bucky’s stomach drops at your confession, something an awful lot like hurt shooting through him.

He wants to hurry and reassure you that you were wrong, that you didn’t have to worry, but he stops himself.

He reminds himself that your fears were his own, only he knew for a fact the answer.

“I don’t think you should spend your time worrying about that.” He says carefully. You stop fidgeting and look up at him. He swallows thickly.

“Your soulmate will want you, regardless of if you’re the most normal person in the world or not. And if they’re worried about your past, or the way it affects you now, then they probably don’t deserve you anyway.”

Bucky shrugs, and tears his eyes from yours to continue in his task, but stays fully aware that your gaze remains trained on him.

“If you found them, I’m sure they would want you.” He adds, almost anxiously, his mind buzzing with a million thoughts.

From the couch, you let out a short laugh, the tension in the room lifting a little. He spares a glance at you, unable to to stop the smile that creeps onto his face at the sight of your own.

“What?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Just never took the Winter Soldier for a romantic.” You tease, making him roll his eyes.

Bucky puts the last touches on your new and improved window and takes a step back.

“Would it shock you to learn HYDRA didn’t count it as a useful skill?”

If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #story: tttb #soulmate au

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formenis · 3 years

Note

Hi there! I can to request a one shot where the reader is jealous because BB has been looking at someone too much or something like that. Please and thank you!

Yes, of course dear~ I love writing B ♥

TITLE: SIGHT

pairing: Beyond Birthday x jealous!gn!reader

|| warning: major spoilers of the novel "The Los Angeles BB murder cases" / jealousy / slightly yandere behaviour / a not very healthy relationship ||

When B left the Wammy's House on May 2002 for the States he felt a bit out of place: he was alone in a foreign and far country. Luckily that feeling lasted less than five minutes once at the Los Angeles airport. He had only one goal in mind: to surpass L, the greatest detective in the world, as the "World's Greatest Criminal," giving him a case that B hoped he would be unable to solve.

June just started few days ago when B's life changed in a way he would never imagined. He was in a beauty store, he needed to buy a new foundation and few eye pencils in order to maintain his heavy mask of L's lookalike. B was waiting for his turn at the cash register and he was the only boy there.

All the girls (and women) were secretly looking at him trying to understand if those products were for him or for a female partner or relative. And maybe the oldest ones were mentally insulting him because "boys should not wear makeup". As if B read those thoughts he turned his head towards those women to glare at them: his dull black eyes always made people look away in fear. A voice, however, distracted him.

«Sir? It's your turn»

B looked in front of him once again and noticed the cashier was right so he walked closer to them, scattering the products on the conveyor belt. The cashier, someone with H/C hair and S/C skin, smiled kindly at him while doing whatever a cashier did, B didn’t care and looked away just to read people's names above their heads.

«Sir? If you're interested, we have a lighter shade of this foundation»

At those words B turned to look at the cashier one more time. Since L was really pale, lighter was better.

«Really? I saw nothing at the display cabinet» B replied with a raised eyebrow but the cashier couldn’t see it since his face was partially hidden by a cap.

«It's because we hadn’t the time to organise it but it is available. Do you want to see it?»

«Yes»

The E/C coloured cashier nodded at him and whispered something to a girl next to them. In few instants that girl opened the register next to them so the other clients could pay for their shopping there.

In the meantime, B thought about his plan: everything was perfectly set (the crime scene, the Wara Ningyo, the victim's name and his cover), nothing will go wrong. He smirked at the perfection of his project, he couldn’t be more satisfied.

«There it is, sir. Do you want to try it?» the cashier came back, in their hands a tiny bottle of foundation way lighter than the one B chose before. The once L's successor nodded and extended his right hand so the cashier could apply a small quantity of foundation on it, with circular motions.

«The ideal is to test the product on the side of your jaw but I believe this shade suits you well, sir. It's almost invisible on your hand»

B, however, wasn’t focused on the foundation in that moment. When the cashier's fingers touched his hand he felt a strange sensation. It was like…flames, as if he touched the fire with bare hands. He wanted…to feel it…once again…

«You're right, I think I'll take this» B masked his emotions with a fake smile and the cashier nodded at his reply. While they were busy with his products, B's eyes couldn’t look away from his right hand. The foundation was still there and he caressed it with the thumb. Something about that simple gesture upset him…in a positive way, maybe?

«It's $22.13, sir»

Without saying another word, B payed for his shopping and left the beauty shop. Before leading back home, he glanced inside the shop. He could read above the cashier's head two words: Y/N L/N. And then a date.

"Your death is so far from now, Y/N…you're lucky".

It was August 2002 and Believe Bridesmaid was already dead. B was rather satisfied about his job, nobody interrupted him during the murderer. Not even when he re-dressed the victim after the post-mortem mutilation.

Something, however, didn’t go as he planned. This "something" was Y/N. A part of B's brain yelled things like "Don’t distract yourself!" or "Focus on L not them"; but the other half pushed him to know Y/N more. He went in that beauty shop as much as he could even though he didn’t buy anything.

Despite his unique personality, B and Y/N started to get along. Poor Y/N ignored the fact that more than once B followed them home and he even spied on them different times.

«Ryuzaki! Did you hear?» an afraid Y/N appeared from the service entrance of their beauty shop. It was a sort of habit for B (or Ryuzaki as he introduced to Y/N) to join them after work.

«Hear what, Y/N?» he asked while putting his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans. Even though he always walked hunched over he was still taller than Y/N.

«A famous writer died!» they put the shop's keys in their bag and started to walk back home with Ryuzaki beside them.

«Yes, I heard that. It happened few weeks ago, right?»

Y/N nodded, they seemed quite shocked. «I read all his books, I can't believe someone killed him»

«Yeah…Los Angeles is becoming a dangerous place»

August 4th was close and B had to kill again. He managed to realise all the riddles and the three Wara Ningyo he had to leave on the scene. However, something was missing: the victim itself. He decided he would take advantage of a walk he wanted to take with Y/N. They needed a break from work and B suggested to spend some time at the park.

Once surrounded by peace and trees, however, Y/N noticed something strange on Ryuzaki. Something that made them…boil with jealousy.

Since the moment they met Ryuzaki at the beauty shop, Y/N felt something for that strange "un-private" detective. They didn’t care about his peculiar behaviour or particular taste about food: his deep black eyes, the way his thin lips curved in a smile each time he saw them and his intellect…he knew so many things, Y/N wondered where he studied all that.

Ah, poor Y/N. They were completely unaware of Ryuzaki's real self. They knew the pale, slouched "un-private" detective and not the bloodthirsty and ferocious serial killer.

They admitted they started to feel…attracted by the man. Y/N didn’t know it was simple friendship or…something else.

Back to the park, Y/N noticed a strange attitude of Ryuzaki. Since the two of them started to walk towards the park, the man was staring intensely at all women (and even men) that passed next to them. It looked like he was searching for someone in particular.

«Are you alright Ryuzaki?»

The un-private detective turned towards Y/N and smiled. «Yes Y/N» and then he came back at staring at people as nothing happened…as if Y/N wasn’t there with him.

He looked at people down on with such intensity that Y/N had the feeling he was imagining something in his head. He even smirked from time to time.

«I wish you would look at me in the same way…» Y/N said in a whisper.

«I don’t know what that was about, but I love seeing you all riled up» at that answer Y/N turned towards him. Did he hear them?

Ryuzaki was looking at them with curiosity, a thumb over his lips. The wind messed up his (already ruffled) hair and his weird sitting position - with his knees pulled up against his chest- made him bigger than usual.

Y/N's cheeks turned pink and looked away embarrassed. Geez, Ryuzaki heard them…

They were so focused on their gaffe that they didn’t notice the man moved an arm around their shoulder in a cute attempt to hug them. That gesture took Y/N aback but hugged him back almost immediately, sensing the intoxicating scent of strawberry jam of his clothes.

«I would never reserve that kind of look on you, Y/N. You're far too…» and B paused, trying to find the right word to not to make them suspicious about his behaviour. «…important for me»

Y/N silently sighed in relief and stood trapped in the hug for a while. They were unaware, however, that B found the person he was searching for: Quarter Queen, August 4th 2002. At that sight he grasped with force at Y/N's shoulder…finally, his second victim.

Y/N interpreted that grasp as a gesture of Ryuzaki to remark what he said before, that they were important to him so they didn’t notice the strange, dangerous look on his face.

«Trust me, Y/N…you don't wish to be looked like that by me»

#death note #beyond birthday #beyond x reader #rue ryuzaki #los angeles bb murder cases #l lawilet #death note x reader #death note x y/n #death note x you #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader

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street-smarts00 · 3 years

Text

You Make Me Weak

Bakugou x Gen Neutral reader

Summary: Bakugou and y/n are constantly bickering and fighting. They both like eachother but are too in denial to admit it. Their friends pick up on this and plan a way for them to get along.

Wc: 2.300

!Language warning!

You banged on the door and relentlessly fought with the handle. “Get back over here and open this door!” you yelled to your friends on the other side of the door. You heard some laughing and finally got a response from someone.

“Sorry, but we’re not opening that door until you guys get along!” Ochako yelled back. You heard their footsteps fade signaling they were gone. You stopped fighting with the door handle and turned around to face the biggest thorn in your side since you started at UA, Katsuki Bakugou.

That morning

He couldn’t stand you. At all. Just seeing you in class made his blood boil and heart start racing. If he got too close to you his head would start spinning, or he would become overly conscious of his sweaty hands. He’d constantly catch himself thinking about you all the time and sneaking glances at you during school. You made him feel things he’s never felt before. He didn’t know what was going on or how to stop it. He hated it.

It was even more irritating because his friends would constantly tease him about it. Like right now. Bakugou was in the homeroom sitting near his “friends” and not really joining in their conversation much because he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Instead he kept staring at you from across the room while you were busy deep in conversation with Uraraka. Anytime you would look his way he would quickly avert his eyes and plaster on an angry expression.

His cheeks would turn a slight shade of pink as he tried to act like you were the bane of his existence. Denki picked up on this.

“Yo Kachan what’s got you all blushy,” he asked with a smirk.

“Shut up, I’m not blushing”

“Is he staring at y/n again?” Sero asked.

“Probably,” Mina answered.

“Shut up, I can barely hold in my puke just by looking at them,” Bakugou lied.

At the start of the school year the two of you tolerated each other. You didn’t speak and you didn’t interact most of the time. Even when you did it was pretty neutral. But somehow over the course of the last few weeks Bakugou found you more and more annoying.

It seemed like most of his hatred turned from Deku to you. He would throw insults at you and call you names and you got sick of it. At first you just tried to ignore him, but after it kept happening you snapped at him.

“Can you just shut up!” You practically screamed at him.

Bakugou froze in shock, he’d never heard you speak that loudly before, and with so much fury in your eyes.

“You are always shitting on me for no reason at all and you’re acting like a total jackass! Can you for once stop acting like you’re better than everyone here!” You continued.

“Tch, it’s cause I am better than you,” he smirked.

You balled your fists and your jaw clenched. “UGH I can’t stand you!” You retorted and stormed out of the common area. After that encounter a few weeks ago, he’s only been more intrigued in you. No one has snapped back at him like that. It seriously ticked him off.

All while Bakugou was going through his roller coaster of emotions about you, his friends were paying very close attention. How they always caught him staring at you or bringing you up and how “annoying” you are. How they saw he would fidget with whatever was in his hand or bounce his leg whenever you were talking or your name was brought up. How he would bring you up all the time despite his dislike for you. They all slowly figured out that he had the biggest crush on you and was in serious denial.

They tried to mention it to him once and he almost blew them up for even suggesting that, so they haven’t brought up the subject since. But they still do like to tease him from time to time.

You couldn’t stand him. Katsuki Bakugou was the most annoying person in your class. His ego was through the roof and constantly thought he was better than everyone else. Most of the time you kept a distance, not wanting to get yelled at by the explosive blond.

What bothered you even more was that after your little spat with him, he was always trying to talk to you or was always looking at you. You and Bakugou were almost as bad as him and Deku. You were constantly fighting and spitting insults at each other. You weren’t even paired together during heroics anymore after last time you two almost killed each other.

Thankfully you hadn’t had any spats with him today, only some staring and dirty looks during homeroom. School had ended and you were spending some alone time in your dorm finishing up your homework. You heard a knock on your door.

“It’s open,” you yelled from your desk.

The door was opened and revealed Uraraka and Mina.

“Hey y/n, what’s up?” Ochako asked.

“Nothing exciting, I’m like 2 minutes away from finishing my homework.”

She smiled, “oh cool, so you’re free after that?”

You scribbled down the answers as fast you could, “yup.”

“Awesome! so some of us are chilling in one of the vacant dorms on the third floor. You wanna join?” Mina cheered.

You furrowed your eyebrows and tapped your pencil against your notebook. “Why are you guys in a vacant dorm? Why not just hang out in someone's room?”

Uraraka played with the hem of her shirt. “I don’t know, it was Seros idea. But come on, it'll be fun.

You quickly finished up the last question of your homework and left with your friends to wherever your friends were. On the way downstairs you felt something was off. Uraraka and Mina weren’t acting strangely, but something was telling you that they knew something.

The three of you made it to the third floor and your friends guided you to one of the vacant dorm rooms. You stepped inside and there was no one there. “Umm where is . . “

Before you could finish your question you heard Kirishima and Kaminari voices making their way from the elevator to where you are now. Your stomach dropped once you realized that the last person you wanted to see walked in the room with your friends.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. Seconds after the boys walked inside Kirishima, Sero, Mina and Uraraka ran out of the room and slammed the door shut. You and Bakugou exchanged confused looks and ran to the door.

Bakugou fought with the handle and banged on the door. “What the hell? Open the damn door!” He screamed. You could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears.

“Sorry but this is for your own good,” Kaminari giggled.

“How the hell did you guys even lock the door? No one is living here, you don’t have a key!” You yelled through the door.

“I taped the door shut,” You heard from Sero.

“Anyway we’re gonna go and leave you to chat,” Kiri added.

You pushed Bakugou out of the way and banged on the door relentlessly fighting with the handle. “Guys this isn’t funny! Get back over here and open this door!” you yelled to your friends on the other side of the door. You heard some laughing and finally got a response from someone.

You sat down on the bed and let out a loud sigh, this can not be happening. You glanced at Katsuki, his arms were crossed and his eyes were on the floor. You noticed he had calmed down since your friends left, but he had left his guard up and set up some imaginary barrier.

It was almost annoying how easy he was to read, maybe that was another reason why you disliked him.. Most of your friends couldn't comprehend how you could read him like a book, but at the same time you stand within a 5 foot radius of him.

Nothing but silence filled the room for the next few minutes. You glanced back at him, now he was situated at the desk chair with his feet propped up on the desk. Some of his hair fell onto his forehead and his bright red eyes stayed fixated on the floor. His arms were still crossed like before but because of the way he was sitting his biceps were . . . wait WHAT . . stop thinking about his hair or eyes or muscles.

Your thoughts started to wander and you thought back at your encounters with the blond at the beginning of the school year. The two of you barely spoke and when you did there were no insults or name calling. Just classmates like everyone else. It wasn't until about a little over a month ago that you noticed Bakugou's attitude towards you change.

Although you didn't want to disturb the somewhat peaceful setting that was the predicament you were in, you had to know why he hated you all of a sudden. You had to know what switch was set off for him to go from tolerating you, to despising you.

“Why do you hate me so much?” you broke the silence.

His head snapped to you with a look of confusion. “Tch cause you’re annoying.”

Ok this boy was on thin ice with you right now. “That’s not an answer.”

He rolled his eyes, “Well it’s the answer I fucking gave you.”

“Can you not, for like two seconds?” you spat, patience growing thin.

“I don’t know, can you shut up?” He placed his feet off the desk.

You clenched your fists in frustration. It was nearly impossible to have a normal conversation with him. “You know what! I can't with you! Why are you like this?” You stood up and raised your voice unknowingly.

“Like what?” He stood up mirroring you.

“The insults and dirty looks. You staring at me all the time with that dumb look on your face!” You explained as your voice gained volume. You stepped towards him and stared him down. You both stood in silence. The tension in the room rose by the second.

“What the hell did I do to you to make you hate me so much!”

He stepped closer to you, your faces inches apart. His breath was ragged and uneven, his eyes were narrowed on you. Your heart beat was quickly rising as the seconds passed.

“You wanna know why I hate you?”

“Yes”

Within an instant his lips were on yours. At first you were startled and unable to move, but soon you fell into the rhythm of the kiss. It wasn’t until right now that you realized just how badly you wanted this. How badly you wanted to capture his lips into your own and . You wrapped your hands around his neck deepening the kiss. He placed his one hand on the back of your head, and the other lightly trailed down the back of your spine leaving goosebumps. You slowly parted, breaking the kiss and gasped for air.

“You make me feel weak,” he admitted.

Your eyes went wide and met with his red ones. Your heart was doing a number on you and your cheeks were heating up. You rested your head against his chest to hide your blush and let out a long sigh. “Of all the things for you to say, I did not think that was going to be one of them. Who knew Katsuki Bakugou was a huge softie,” you giggled.

He removed you from his hold and placed his hands in his pockets. “Shut up dumbass,” he scoffed

Both of you stood there in silence, not knowing what to do next. But this time there was no awkward tension in the air. After a few seconds you cleared your throat and spoke up, “So . . . what do we do now?”

“We get the fuck out of here that’s what,” he replied.

He walked towards the door and glanced back at you silently asking to join him. You walked over and he started to yell and bang on the door, you followed suit.

Shortly after the yelling and banging began, your friends ran upstairs to prevent the possibility of you two killing each other, or worse, Aizawa finding you guys locked in a room.

“Yo, what's going on?” you heard from Kaminari.

“Let us out, we made up!” you answered.

There was quiet from behind the door for a few seconds followed by some whispering.

“How do we know you're telling the truth?” you heard from Mina.

You looked at Katsuki and he smirked. You could read him like a book, you knew exactly what he was planning.

“Open the door and we’ll prove it,” he added.

There was more quiet behind the door and soon your heard tape being peeled off. Not long after, the door was opened and behind it a group of friends with questioning expressions.

“Ok, it's open, what's your proof?” Kiri asked.

You and Katsuki exchanged looks and he planted his hand on your waist and pulled you into another kiss. This one is much quicker then the first one, but just as passionate.

You pulled away from the kiss and looked back at your friends. All with wide eyes and jaws hangin on the floor.

“Holy shit I knew it!” Kami and Mina screamed with excitement. A few seconds later Sero handed an unknown amount of money to Uraraka.

“How’s that for proof?” you smiled.

#katsuki bakugou #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha #bnha katsuki x reader #mha oneshot #enemies to lovers

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

College Drop-Out

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words: 1.6K

Summary: When Noya shows up in the middle of the night unprompted you’re more than surprised at the news he brings with him.

A/N: angsty >:D but it’s me so is it really? lol

Masterlist

A strange vibration pulled you out of your deep slumber. You whined as you smoothed your hand across your mattress aimlessly searching for what caused the annoyance. When your fingers glided across the soft cotton sheet to land on your cell phone your frustration hit its peak.

You pulled it down, squinting at the blinding screen that shone Nishinoya’s contact against your room’s pitch-black darkness. You swept the red circle to end your suffering and snuggled back into your cocoon of warmth. Whatever Nishinoya wanted at nearly three in the morning he could deal with himself.

The cellphone began vibrating a second time and with clenched teeth you sent him to voicemail again without opening your eyes.

But when your phone vibrated a third time you violently slid the green circle across the screen before shouting into the receiver, “Noya, it is two in the morning what the hell do you-”

“I can’t believe you sent me to voicemail,” Nishinoya sounded offended and you let out a pathetic muffled whine against your pillow.

“I’m trying to sleep.” You glared blankly at the apartment window across yours-their lights all off stave a few. You envied the ones lucky enough to be sleeping. “What do you want.”

“You’re already sleeping on a Saturday?” Nishinoya questioned.

“Already? It’s nearly two a.m, Noya.” You scoffed while straining to hear the gusts of wind on his side of the line. “Where are you?”

“Outside.”

“Obviously, I mean where outside?”

“Outside-outside,” he unhelpfully clarified. “I’m outside your apartment.”

You blinked several times before shooting up in bed, “what?”

“It’s really cold out. Could you let me in?”

You hopped out of bed and moved toward your closet, sliding into your simplest pair of shoes and rushing to the hall. “This better not be a prank, Noya.”

“It’s not,” he said as you impatiently jabbed the elevator button. “I wanted snacks from the gas station, but I must have taken a wrong turn back because I ended up here.”

“Wrong turn?” You furrowed in confusion when the elevator finally arrived. “Noya, I’m a thirty minute walk from your place.”

“Oh, right.”

You felt your cheeks warm when you stepped out of the elevator to find him standing in the vestibule. His hair had been whipped around by the wind and was a chaotic mess; you could tell he looked exhausted, but still managed a bright smile when he lifted a plastic bag filled with various snacks.

You rolled your eyes and let him in without hesitation, taking the bag from his grasp the moment he stepped through the glass doors.

“Thanks,” he mumbled while shuffling toward the elevator. You eyed him uncertainly, but followed him closely as he pressed the buttons that would take you both to your apartment.

“Are you okay?” You asked when the normally nonexistent awkward silence became too intense to ignore. He followed you hesitantly into your apartment, completely oblivious that you’d even asked a question until you’d turned to face him in your kitchen when the door swung shut. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” He said, avoiding your eyes.

You rolled yours and took the snack bag to your couch with a yawn, “you’re acting weird.”

“I’m always weird.”

“True, but this is a different weird.” You sat cross-legged, digging through the bag and pulling out a soda-you figured you’d need the caffeine to deal with whatever was happening. “Something’s clearly wrong.”

“No.” He sat down across from you on the floor and hugged his knees to his chest. “Well, maybe. I don’t know actually.”

Your eyes softened at his nervous expression that didn’t fit his confident persona, “you can tell me anything. Promise.”

He took a deep breath, making determined eye-contact before announcing, “I’m dropping out.”

You blinked once. Twice. “What the fuck?”

“I hate everything about college. I’m not good at it and it stresses me out and makes me depressed and I…” His eyes fell toward the floor. “I can’t do it anymore.”

You knew Nishinoya hated it here. Every time you studied for exams you could see the light draining from his eyes, and he spent more time finding ways to procrastinate than actually doing his homework. You didn’t know it was to the point that he wanted to drop out though.

“What are you goin-”

“Travel.” His lips quipped into a half-smile. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, so I’m just gonna fucking do it. Fuck college. This place sucks.”

You allowed a soft smile. How very Nishinoya to decide ‘fuck college’ because ‘this place sucked’ and start traveling the world. You scanned his determined expression and nodded.

“Okay.”

“I know, it sounds ridiculous but maybe if you sleep on it you’ll understand why-” He raised his brow. “Wait, huh?”

“I said, okay.” Your smile widened the more the idea settled in your head. “Dropping out should be easy enough, but I think the bigger problem will be getting money.”

He stared at you wondrously while you spoke which made you a little uncomfortable.

“My grandpa knows someone in Italy. They said they can get me set up there with a job and everything, so that’s where I’m gonna start.” He said while avoiding your eyes.

“Oh, you have a plan.” Your stomach knotted at the news, but you smiled through it. “Do you know when you want to go because subleasing can be-”

“I’m in love with you and I want you to come with me.”

Your mouth hung open and you stared at him with wide eyes. His face was bright red as he watched your reaction with baited breath. As you continued staring at him in stunned silence he cleared his throat and put his hands between you both as if calming a startled animal.

“Okay, um, you look like you’re panicking.”

You nodded, giving him a once-over and scooting further into the couch away from him.

“Let me try again,” Nishinoya took a deep breath before nodding. “I would very much like to suggest that you also dropped out of college, so that we may travel together.”

“Nishinoya, I don’t think that’s-”

“Also I’m in love with you.”

“I heard that part.”

He sent you fingers guns and quickly averted his eyes. You stared down at your hands and urged your sleep deprived brain to work faster on a solution, but this was a massive info dump. You locked onto his nervous amber eyes, now curiously watching you, and sighed before patting the spot beside you on the couch.

Nishinoya looked at it confused but crawled forward and climbed up beside you. This had never been how you expected everything to go, but with Nishinoya you shouldn’t have planned things to be normal.

“We’re just going to speed this up,” you took a deep breath and grabbed the sides of his face, forcing him to face you. You ignored the way your heart raced against your chest when his cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “I like you,” and before his smile could get too wide you continued. “But I’m not dropping out.”

His shoulders dropped and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, “but why?”

You rattled your brain for the exact reason because you knew it existed, but it was really hard to find when the boy you liked was rubbing small circles gently against your knee while begging you to travel the world with him.

“I only have a year left,” you settled on while he placed a steady hand atop yours, “and I don’t think I’m ready for something like that.”

His eyes searched intensely for something in yours before he quietly asked, “what about after you graduate?”

You half-smiled and gently pressed your forehead against his. “You know I can’t promise you something that far away. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“You’re the only good thing about this place,” he groaned frustrated. “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, but there was no bite in your words. Your chest was already aching at the realization that you’d be losing him--all-nighters at the library, college parties and being carried home, drunken fast food trips, random late night visits, surprise post-final celebrations--all of him.

As if mirroring your sinking dread, Nishinoya wrapped his arms around your midsection and pulled you closer, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“You need to go though,” you said, pressing your cheek against the top of his head. “You’re right. This place isn’t good for you.”

He nodded in silent agreement.

“Things will work out.” You smiled slightly as he tightened his hold on you. “We’ll be okay.”

He nodded with a shaky breath in response. You closed your eyes and relaxed in his hold for the time you had. You knew your words were the truth-Nishinoya did too. Even if it wasn’t in the way you wanted right then you would both be okay.

Nishinoya would leave and with enough time you would become a distant memory for him. For you it would become the same. He would be successful and happy in his own way because that’s what he did, he was good at what he set his mind to. And you would move on to what you needed.

But you could live in this right now. Pretend you would have had something if your futures aligned differently. Maybe only these few minutes. Maybe for the night. For however long you’d allow yourself these feelings with him. But for now it could be enough.

It was enough.

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #nishinoya yu

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