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xjoonchildx · 3 years

Text

snapshot | jhs x reader

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: fluff, smut, fluff OH MY GOD SO MUCH FLUFF y'all i apologize

word count: 4.7K

notes: this fic is a commission fic for the lovely @wwilloww as part of the @armyadvocates fundraising initiative to stop hate crimes against AAPI. miss willow asked for an old house, candles and soft smut as well as a mystery box. i did my best to deliver on all counts because willow is amazing and deserves all good things.

thanks go to @hobi-gif @ladyartemesia and @btsarmy9593 for beta reading parts of this story, thanks so much for keeping me on track ladies! a very special shoutout to @sahmfanficbts who helped me come up with a very *key* part of this plot.

warnings: no one dies? no one is in danger of dying? who am i? standard smut, unprotected sex. liberal sunscreen use. low air quality due to paint fumes and sawdust. references to yoongi, who we can assume is cranky offscreen, references to @untaemedqueen first suggestion of what was in the box.

Warm.

Hoseok is so warm right now, inside and out. He stretches his long body out on the length of his beach lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin. His buzz is mellow and pleasant. He lets his eyes drift shut, lulled into a lazy calm by the sounds he can hear all around him.

The steady lap of the waves against the shore. Kids laughing as they run around on the sand. Off in the distance, a bluetooth speaker thumps out a song that’s too far away for him to recognize. And after a few minutes, another sound.

Your bright laughter, carried to him on the breeze.

God, he loves that sound.

“You are such a lightweight,” you tease. Hoseok can hear the smile in your voice. “Two beers and you pass out on me.”

He cracks one eye open to find you standing beside his lounger. The early evening sunlight streams through the strands of your dark hair and warms your bronzed skin, bathing you in a kind of golden halo. He gazes up at you, languid and content.

“I’m not passed out,” he argues with a slow grin. “I’m relaxing. Come relax with me.”

Hoseok doesn’t give you a chance to accept his offer, leaning up to grab your hand and pull you down into the narrow space beside him. You laugh when he wraps his arms and legs around you like a starfish, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I’m just enjoying the perfect day,” he murmurs, nosing at the back of your ear, “With my perfect girl.”

“Flatterer.”

Hoseok can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. Just like he can’t see the way you flush and he knows you’re doing that, too.

“We should eat,” you say after a while, shivering when he strokes the pads of his fingers up the soft skin of one bare leg. “Grab something before we have to take the bikes back.”

Hoseok hums under his breath as he slides his palm up the curve of your thigh, boldly searching for trouble under the hem of your sundress. You bat his hand away and he laughs, hugging you tighter.

“Alright,” he agrees in a whisper, ghosting his lips down the nape of your neck. You jolt in his arms when he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, nipping playfully. “Just a quick bite.”

There’s not much difference between a sundress and a négligée is there?

Certainly not from where Hoseok is sitting, anyway.

He studies you as he rides close behind, watching the way your hair whips in the breeze as you pedal. One delicate sundress strap slips down your sun-warmed shoulder, exposing just a bit more of your back. Then the wind grabs a hold of your sheer skirt, lifting it just long enough for Hoseok to get a glimpse of the pretty white panties underneath.

God, he loves those panties.

Could stare at them all day, really.

But instead he forces himself to pedal faster and take the lead, grinning when you take note of his advance and glare. It’s for the best because while you think this is just some meandering evening ride, he’s the only one who knows where you’re really headed. For the best because if he falls off his bike and breaks his face because he’s too busy staring at your ass, the entire night will be ruined before it has the chance to start.

It’s quiet on this street just a few blocks from the shore.

Dolmeori Beach is rockier, more wooded than the beaches preferred by most tourists and that’s always suited Hoseok just fine. When he was a kid, he’d steal away when the weather was warm and hop the train here from Gwangju any chance he got.

It’s always felt like his place, his personal piece of sea and sand.

Pine trees loom high over the pavement, canopies so dense they block out much of the waning sunlight streaming down from above. The shade beneath the leaves makes the heat bearable, but it also makes it hard to judge the time. Hoseok steals a quick look at his watch.

Right on schedule. He hopes Yoongi followed his instructions to the letter.

“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teases over his shoulder, and he chuckles at the sound of frustration you make as you pedal faster to catch up. It takes a few seconds for you to coast into position at his side.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you fuss, “Wanna clue me in?”

Hoseok turns his head to smile at you, sly like a fox.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

The realtor had said the place would need a little love.

Turns out, it needs a lot more than a little. But Hoseok was able to see right past the weathered wooden porch and salt air-worn paint right away. When he found this place online, he knew it was the one.

He slows his bike to a stop as the two of you make your approach, taking note of the warm light that glows just behind the frosted glass pane in the front door. Looks like Yoongi came through.

“What is this place?” you ask, skidding to a stop beside him. You stand over your bike on tiptoes as you survey the house, brow knit in confusion.

“It’s a surprise,” Hoseok grins, hopping off his bike. He shoves the kickstand into place and offers you his hand, which you accept with a suspicious smile. “Wanna go in?”

“Yeah sure,” you shrug. “We’ve probably already stolen these bikes. What’s a little breaking and entering on top of that?”

Hoseok laughs, leading the way to the front door.

He cringes when the porch floorboards creak loudly beneath his feet, making a mental note to put that project next on his to-do list. You stand with arms crossed, watching silently as he crouches down to lift the mat at the front door, fingers feeling beneath for the concealed key.

You stop him with fingers wrapped around his forearm when he gets to his feet.

“Wait,” you whisper frantically. “We can’t just walk into someone’s house, Hoseok.”

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss the adorable confusion right off your face. Then he slides his key into the lock and pushes the door wide open.

“Not someone’s house,” he corrects, watching you peer skeptically inside.

You step slowly through the threshold and scan the candle-lit front room before turning to him with wide eyes.

“Our house.”

“You bought a beach house.”

It’s the third time you’ve said it by now, and not once has the hushed observation been directed at Hoseok. You said it when you brushed your fingertips over the freshly-dried spackle on the living room wall, said it again as you passed your hand over the base coat of stain on the mantle over the fireplace.

You say it again as you turn to him, jaw slack with disbelief.

“You bought a beach house.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok admits sheepishly, uncertain of your reaction. He tries to see the room the way you must see it now, candles and tools scattered across the tables, floors covered in drop cloths, cans of paint and plaster stacked up in the corners.

Yoongi had done a decent job of clearing up most of the clutter before he left, but judging by the astonishment on your face, he’s probably been romanticizing the mess in here.

He’d really hoped to have a lot more done the first time he brought you here, but he’s learned the hard way that some home renovation projects don’t go as smoothly in real life as they do on YouTube. The process has been a bit of trial and error, with a lot more error than he’d originally counted on.

“I know it doesn’t look like a whole lot right now,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “But it’s going to look great when I’m done. Yoongi helped me sand all week.”

You shake your head like you’re coming out of a daze.

“Oh my god Hoseok, no -- ” you vow with a shaky laugh, “ -- no, this is incredible. This is amazing. I’m in shock.”

“Yeah?” Hoseok grins, relief melting over him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted -- ”

“ -- Wait,” you interrupt, one brow quirked high as you step closer. “You said… you said something important. You said this was our house.”

“Did I?”

You narrow your dark eyes at him and he chuckles uncomfortably, nerves kicking in for the first time tonight. The feeling -- and the occasion both call for more booze. Which he’s prepared for.

“Are you going to give me a tour?” you ask.

“Later,” he says. “After.”

“After what, Hoseok? You’re killing me slowly with all this suspense.”

“Hang out here for a second,” he instructs, ducking into the small kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes him no time at all to find the bottle of Moet he’s stashed in the fridge and the clean champagne flutes tucked away into the corner of his dutifully-dusted kitchen cabinet. He double-checks the contents of the box on the counter, making sure everything is in place.

Then he takes a deep breath.

Your brows lift in surprise when he walks back into the room with that box in his hands. You watch him set it down on the floor, saying nothing when he turns back to retrieve the champagne and glasses.

When he finally returns, you’re on your knees -- examining the package. Lips pursed thoughtfully as you press your fingers to the gold flecks on the fabric lid.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, flicking your gaze up to find his. “I have so many questions right now.”

You look so damned beautiful in this candlelight -- like you brought your golden glow from the beach indoors. Like you absorbed the sun’s rays and you’re emitting them now like some kind of superpower.

“Have a drink with me,” he murmurs, “And I’ll answer them.”

Something in the room shifts then; the temperature changes. The silly fun of the afternoon evaporates, leaving behind something heavy and heady. Hoseok knows you feel it too, when your half-smile slowly drops and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

“Okay,” you agree softly, “Let’s have a drink.”

You watch him with those focused dark eyes as he pops the champagne. The drink bubbles over the lip of both flutes as he pours, on account of his haste and shaky hands. Then you take one of the glasses in hand and offer him the other, which he quickly accepts.

“To this surprise housewarming,” you declare, raising your flute for a toast.

Hoseok clinks his glass against yours, taking note of the way you watch him carefully over the lip of your glass as you’re tilting back the flute to take a sip. He decides he can’t keep you -- or himself -- in suspense any longer.

“You know how special you are to me, right?”

You make a face.

“Did you bring me to your new house to break up with me?”

Hoseok’s startled laugh turns into a cough and tears prick his eyes as champagne bubbles blaze a path up his sinuses.

“Yes,” he says dryly, once he’s managed to collect himself. “I figured dumping you by candlelight sounded like the most romantic option.”

You tip your head back when you laugh, light playing off the curve of your neck, your collarbones, the tiny gold pendant that sits in the pretty dip at the base of your throat.

God, he loves your skin.

Hoseok looks at you long and hard before lifting his flute to take a long drink.

“This is for you,” he says quietly, acknowledging the box out loud for the first time.

“What’s in it?”

“A human head,” Hoseok snorts, flinching when you reach over to pinch his leg. “Don’t be a pain. Just open it.”

Your eyes light with excitement as you smooth your hands over the lid and Hoseok can’t help but smile. But your excitement turns into confusion the moment you open the box and find the neat row of plain white envelopes inside.

“What is this?”

“Quit asking me questions,” Hoseok deadpans, pouring himself another drink. He tops off your glass, too. “And start at the front.”

You shake your head with a wry smile as you work the first envelope open, slipping your fingers in between the paper folds to fish out the contents inside. Hoseok sips his champagne as you produce the polaroid photo, head cocked to the side as you study it.

It was cold that day, he remembers that. You’d been bundled up in a pretty scarf and matching belted coat. In the photo, the mid-morning sun flares behind you, illuminating your profile as you squint up at a display of laminated menus.

“This is me,” you murmur, mouth quirking into a disbelieving smile, “At the coffee truck outside of work.”

“Yup.”

“We’d just started dating.”

“Yup.”

“How did you take this without me noticing?”

“Easy,” Hoseok laughs. “You stared at that menu for five minutes straight. I’ve never seen someone take coffee selection so seriously. Thought you were gonna order the most complicated drink in history.”

You roll your eyes but you laugh. So does he.

“Turn it over.”

You flip the polaroid over in your hands, eyes moving over the neat block handwriting on the back.

coolest girl i ever met

“This is the day I knew I liked you,” Hoseok murmurs, “Like, really liked you.”

Your eyes are a bit glassy when you look up at him now, the corner of your mouth tugging into a soft smile.

“You were that sure that fast, huh?” “Yeah,” he admits, scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was.”

You move onto the next envelope, this time prepared when you pull out yet another polaroid picture. This one is harder to place, taken in the dark, mostly black but for a few splashes of vivid light.

“I don’t know this one,” you frown, ghosting your finger across one particularly colorful blur of red and gold. “I can’t make it out.”

You turn the polaroid over, looking once again for Hoseok’s neat block letters.

she’s into me

You laugh out loud.

“That was the lantern festival in Cheonggyecheon,” Hoseok explains. “I’d invited you, but you’d had plans, remember? And I was just going to get Yoongi to go with me but you called me last minute to say you’d decided to come.”

“I remember,” you say with a smile. “Yeri invited me to a movie, but I cancelled on her. I wanted to hang out with you instead.”

“Yeah, well that’s the night I knew you really liked me.”

“Cocky,” you smirk, reaching for another envelope. “But warranted.”

Your eyes light with recognition the moment you pull the next picture out. You’re crouched down at the edge of his mother’s koi pond, one finger making ripples on the surface of the water.

“First time we ever went to Gwangju together,” you muse quietly. “First time I met your parents.”

You flip the polaroid over.

pretty sure my mom loves her more than she loves me

“Okay, this might actually be true,” you tease, taking a sip of your champagne. “Your mom and dad love me.”

“Yeah, well that was the day I decided I loved you, too,” Hoseok chuckles. “The point where I kind of knew there was no turning back.”

You look up from the photograph then, eyes glassy with emotion when they find his. Candlelight flickering across your face as you look at him fondly.

“You still feel that way?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” he laughs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Keep going.”

The next polaroid is a selfie of Hoseok in bed but it’s by no means sexual. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin has a sallow tint. Next to his pillow, the bedside table is littered with cold medicine and empty cups.

“Is this when you had the flu?” you ask, flipping the polaroid over. The neat block lettering on the back confirms your theory.

she took care of me

“You were so pitiful,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. I swear, men have zero tolerance for discomfort.”

“I nearly died,” Hoseok protests dramatically. “But you dropped everything to come take care of me. That’s the day I knew you loved me, too.”

Your smile is brilliant now, open and sweet as you reach for the last remaining envelope. Hoseok takes another swig of champagne, slugging it down as you pull out the polaroid and study the image.

You are wearing your delicate sundress, leaned up against the wooden railing that separates the sand and rocks. Standing just next to your bike, nose in the air as you breathe in the salt carried on the wind.

“This is today,” you murmur, brows knitting together when you flip the picture over and find the back side blank. “And you haven’t written anything here.”

“Yeah, well,” Hoseok starts and stops, clearing his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to write it in yet.”

“Oh.”

“That’s the day I asked you to marry me.”

“Oh.”

You blink. Once, then again. Hoseok can hear the shaky breath you take in when your mouth parts in surprise. He sets his champagne flute down, sufficiently bolstered by the booze.

“So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m asking you to marry me.”

You’re still mute with shock, eyes wide as they go from Hoseok to the picture and back to Hoseok again.

“But uh, the longer you don’t say anything, the less confident I feel about this entire plan,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You take him off balance when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist. He keeps you both from toppling over with a palm flat to the floor, laughing as you pepper his face with kisses.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your lips to his temple, his neck, his jaw. “Yes. To you and to these amazing pictures and to this beach house. Yes to all of it.”

You pull away from him to grab the champagne, eyes flashing mischievously as you take a drink straight from the bottle. “Yes to champagne, too.”

Hoseok feigns shock. “Naughty.”

You kiss him deeply then, thoroughly, enough for him to feel the remnants of the carbonation on your tongue. You tease him with a barely there roll of your hips and his cock responds instantaneously, at the mercy of the warm friction he can feel straight through the thin material of his board shorts.

“You know what I’m thinking?” you murmur against his mouth.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, sucking a breath between his teeth when you bite the skin just below his ear.

“We have a lot to celebrate, right?” you reason, tone light. “But we came here for a housewarming.”

You lean back just far enough to pull your sundress over your head, tossing it carelessly aside, leaving you in nothing but those pretty white panties he loves so much.

“So we should warm it.”

Hoseok grins, pulling the champagne bottle out of your grip. He turns it up just like you did, finishing what’s left before setting it back down.

“I like the way you think.”

The only bedroom in this house is buried beneath a two-inch thick layer of sawdust right now.

Not that making it to a bedroom seems high on your list of priorities.

The fact that you’re both sitting on top of a drop cloth on Hoseok’s living room floor isn’t stopping you from threading your fingers into his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth, grinding against his lap.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you laugh, pressing your bare breasts to his chest once he’s managed to untangle himself from your limbs long enough to shrug out of his shirt. Your pebbled nipples drag across the lithe planes of his chest and his cock jumps in his shorts.

“Clever.”

“That’s me,” Hoseok murmurs against your lips, deft fingers slipping beneath the damp cotton between your thighs. He slides the pad of one long finger across your wet slit and you gasp, rocking against it.

“Gotta get you out of these panties,” he laments, pulling one nipple into his mouth and working it with his teeth. You shudder in his hold. “Quick.”

“What are you in such a hurry for?” you tease, circling your hips to chase the perfect pressure of his fingertips. “We have all night.”

“We have about three more minutes if you keep grinding on me like this,” Hoseok laughs, shifting your bodies to lean you back onto the floor. “So give me a break because I want to enjoy this.”

You lie back for him dutifully, dark hair spilling onto the drop cloth around you, skin gleaming in the candlelight. Your gold pendant twinkles at the base of your neck.

God, he loves the way you look like this.

Flushed with excitement and anticipation. Like a feast laid out just for him. He rids himself of those pesky board shorts as fast as he can, leaning over you on hands and knees.

“You’re gonna marry me,” he muses, burying his face into the soft skin under your jaw. “You already said yes, can’t take it back now.”

Your laughter is echoing in his ears as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, across the bronzed planes of your shoulder. He can taste the day on your skin; the ocean salt and sunscreen mixed with that flavor that’s so uniquely you.

“I don’t want to take it back,” you sigh, whimpering when Hoseok kisses a path down the velvety skin between your breasts. He travels lower, kissing just below your bellybutton as he starts working your panties off with one hand. “I’m gonna keep you.”

Hoseok chuckles as he tosses your panties away, off to somewhere unimportant. What’s important is the way you take a deep breath and hold it when his mouth hovers coyly over your cunt.

“Look at me,” he directs, peering up at you from beneath heavy eyelids. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, candlelight dancing over your pretty face.

“I love you,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to make contact with your clit. The air leaves your lungs in that moment, a soft exhalation of air that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.

“I love you too,” you sigh, hips jerking at the contact, fingers digging hard into his hair. “So much.”

He knows you by now, knows how you like to be touched. Your rhythmic panting goes a bit ragged, when he slides two fingers into your cunt, crooking up to stroke you the way you like while his mouth works your clit.

God, he loves this part.

The part where you lose any semblance of control. The desperate sounds you make when you start to come apart beneath his mouth and hands.

“Hoseok -- “ your voice is strangled when you call out, “ -- Hobi, I’m gonna come.”

Something about the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. He grits his teeth when your nails dig almost painfully into his scalp as you start to tremble, shuddering against his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, pinning your hips down with his strong hands, keeping you from pulling away from the pleasure that borders on pain. “That’s it. Sound so good when you come for me.”

Hoseok stays face first in your cunt, nose and tongue pressed against you, until he’s certain the last wave has come and gone. Between his own legs, his cock pulses painfully, leaking pre-come at the thought of finally being inside of you.

Your body twitches with the aftershocks of your release as he slowly kisses his way up your thighs, your mound, your stomach.

“How was that?” he asks with a teasing tilt to his mouth, stealing your ability to answer when he kisses you deeply, fitting his slim hips between your legs. He reaches down to grab his stiff cock, sliding it across your slick entrance. You clamp your thighs together to tighten the drag and he groans at the friction.

“Amazing,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his ass, up the lean muscles of his back. “Perfect. You should let me return the favor.”

His dick practically jumps at the suggestion, stomach contracting hard at the prospect of feeling your pretty mouth wrapped around it. But Hoseok is too worked up, too riled up by the alcohol and the excitement.

“Can’t tonight,” he pants, arousal shooting up his spine when you wrap one hand around his now-wet cock. You pump him lazily, trailing soft bites from his jaw to his shoulder. “Need to be inside of you.”

“Yeah, I’m ready for that too,” you admit, guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance.

He surges forward then, pushing past the tight grip of your fingers, groaning as he’s enveloped completely by your warm cunt. You whimper at the stretch, locking your legs around him, gasping when he bottoms out.

He pulls back to the tip only to drive in again, earning another strangled moan. You’re squirming beneath him, breathless and dewy, looking like some kind of wet dream.

“I’ll never get over how good it feels to be inside of you,” Hoseok admits, burying himself as deep as he humanly can into you.

You’re so wet he can feel you spilling out onto the base of his dick and for one fleeting moment he wishes you knew how good this feels for him. How wet and hot and tight you feel around him. How being inside of you like this makes his brain go haywire, reduces him to only instinct and need.

You lift your hips to meet each snap of his, the wet sound of your joining echoing off the walls in this mostly empty house.

He hears you moaning his name in between the other sounds you make, in between the panting and mewling that makes his balls tighten. You grip his forearms as he grinds against you, kissing you in between desperate breaths.

“I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok groans, pulling back to get to his knees. He hooks one of your legs over the crook of one strong forearm, using his one free hand to press a thumb to your clit. His rhythm falters as he watches himself slide in and out of you, hypnotized by the sight of his body joined to yours.

You lift your ass off the floor, back arching as you chase the pressure of his fingers. Hoseok strokes you desperately, feeling his orgasm looming menacingly at the base of his cock. It takes just a few more strained pumps of his hips to set you off.

The second he feels you clamp down around him, Hoseok folds back over you, arms braced on either side of you as he thrusts through his own orgasm. He shuts his eyes and groans as he empties his cock inside of you, thrusting until he can’t anymore.

He collapses onto you, heart racing as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t leave me,” you groan when Hoseok peels his damp skin away from yours to get to his feet.

He strides across the room, completely nude, grinning when you turn onto your side and go up on one elbow to ogle him.

“Just for a second,” he calls out, pulling out every unorganized drawer in the kitchen until he finally comes across a pen. “Gotta finish something.”

He makes a show of holding it in the air as he walks back into the living room, opening the gold-flecked box, and pulling out the last unmarked polaroid photo.

You’re smiling the entire time you watch him pen the last caption on the last photograph.

she said yes

tag list!

@japzalileo @dionysusrage @hey-itsmina @myimaginationsrunningwild @hauntedlilies @spring2787 @suppbeccc @veronawrites @minyoongiboongi @katbonv

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #jhope smut #jhope x reader #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

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j3ssisam3ss · 3 years

Text

Childhood Friends - Fluff

For @animebookworm16

It got kind of long and I’m not really sure it still counts as fluff, but here’s my piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25, Childhood Friends.

Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was five years old the first time he met a girl his age. And in typical League of Assassins style, he went for efficiency by meeting ten at once.

“These are your betrothed,” Talia told him. “All but one will be dead by your twelfth birthday. You will marry the sole survivor on your eighteenth birthday and produce an Heir to carry on the great legacy of the League of Assassins.”

Nine of the girls heard the words without so much as a flinch. The last stared in shock at Talia, then broke into tears.

“Quiet, Marinette,” Talia hissed.

“No,” she yelled defiantly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want my mama!”

Talia backhanded her and she fell to the floor with a yelp.

Damian surveyed the girl – Marinette – with distaste.

“Mother, surely you don’t consider this sniveling coward worthy to compete for my hand?”

“Her mother, Sabine Cheng, was our best assassin for years before she turned traitor. I suppose she’s lost her touch if she raised such a weak daughter.” Talia shrugged elegantly. “No matter, if she turns out to be useless, we’ll ship her mutilated corpse back to Sabine as a reminder of what happens when you cross the League.”

She waved the girls away. “To your training now.”

Damian watched as Marinette sniffled and followed the other girls out the door.

She won’t last a week.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was five years old the first time she won a fight. And in typical Dupain-Cheng fashion, she did so in the most unpredictable way possible.

“You’re going down, pigtails,” shouted a pretty brunette, charging at Marinette with a sword that was as tall as she was.

With a startled shriek, Marinette darted away. She hated how behind she was here. Back home, she was good at everything – reading circle, art class, tussles when the teacher’s back was turned. Here, it felt like she was constantly playing catch-up.

Not to mention, the constant threat of death was not fun.

Skidding around a corner of the labyrinth arena, she tripped over a protruding stone and fell to the ground. The brunette grinned viciously, advancing towards her.

Marinette smiled nervously. “Can’t we talk this out?”

“Not a chance, shortie,” said the brunette.

Marinette glanced around frantically.

I don’t want to die!

She reached for a rock, a stick, anything that could help her fight, but came up with only a handful of sand. With a pleading glance heavenward, she flung it into the brunette’s face and lurched to her feet, grinning when the girl had to stop to get the grit out of her eyes.

Taking off into the labyrinth of passages, she nearly stumbled again, this time over a nearly buried metal object.

She shifted away the dirt surrounding it and smirked. “Finally, a weapon I know how to use.”

Ten minutes later, the watching League members straightened in surprise as the smallest and weakest of Damian’s betrotheds utterly decimated her opponent.

With a frying pan.

“What are you doing here?”

The two children spoke in unison, glaring daggers at one another.

“I always come here,” Marinette said. “It’s my drawing spot.”

“The vents are my domain, Dupain-Cheng,” Damian said. “Get out.”

Two years’ worth of resentment and anger simmered beneath Marinette’s skin.

Drawing is the last thing I have of home. I won’t let him take it from me.

“No.”

Damian looked thunderstruck and Marinette couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

“I am Heir to the Demon! You will obey me!”

“You may be Heir to the Demon, but right now you’re also a kid skipping classes,” Marinette argued. “And if you make me leave, I’ll tell Talia exactly where you go when you’re not in class.”

Ha, take that, you tyrant!

Damian froze. Marinette watched as emotions overtook his face – anger, resentment, then acceptance.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Marinette smiled and returned to her sketchbook – which wasn’t really a sketchbook, just some loose papers she’d tucked into her history book.

A few minutes later, Damian peered over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Drawing,” she said, holding out a few of her older sketches, the ones she wouldn’t mind losing if Damian decided to rip them. “There’s your mother fighting, cook making soup, the sunset from this other spot in the vents – actually, that one’s pretty bad because I didn’t have any colors.”

Damian stared at the drawing of his mother.

“I’m keeping this,” he announced.

Well, at least he didn’t tear it up.

The next week, when Marinette arrived at her drawing spot, Damian was already there. With an annoyed grunt, he shoved a sketchbook and colored pencils into her hands.

Marinette looked between him and the supplies in confusion. “What’s this for?”

“Teach me how to draw.”

Marinette bit her lip, looking longingly at the colored pencils. Then, she pushed them back towards Damian.

“I want you to give me weapons training. As often as I teach you drawing.”

I may be naturally talented at combat, but the other girls have been training their entire lives. I need to catch up.

Damian eyed her suspiciously. “That’s against the rules.”

“So? Are you scared?”

“Never.”

“Then it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

Damian lunged, making a displeased noise when his quarry danced out of his reach.

“You’re slow today, Dami,” Marinette teased. “Losing your touch?”

Marinette was no longer the scared little girl she’d been at five, or even at seven. She’d thrown herself into her training with single-minded determination and two years of training with Talia by day and Damian by night had made her a formidable – and snarky – combatant.

“Never,” Damian replied. His next attack nearly threw her off-balance.

With a grunt, Marinette recovered her footing and countered with a flurry of blows that would have left a lesser opponent dizzy.

Damian smirked, parrying each attack easily. “Completely mediocre. Should I tell my mother that her protégé is slipping?”

Although he’d never admit it, Damian was proud of her. She’d gone from being the worst of the League’s trainees to the only one able to keep up with him in a fight.

“Me? Slipping? Not a chance.” Marinette flipped backwards, knocking his weapon away. “Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Marinette?” He scooped up his katana, readying himself for her next move.

“The floor is lava.”

With a startled intake of air, he leaped onto the nearest table.

“Really?” he asked, half annoyed, half amused.

Marinette giggled, peering down at him from her spot in the ceiling rafters. “I thought we could use an extra challenge.”

Damian glanced up at her. “You just like having the high ground.”

“Technically speaking, it’s the high rafter,” she pointed out.

“Either way, it won’t prevent me from defeating you,” Damian said, pulling himself into the rafters.

At that moment, the door opened and they both immediately went still.

“Damian? Are you here?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Skipping again?” she mouthed.

Damian shrugged in response.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette gestured to the vents behind him. “I’ll meet you in the lower training rooms to finish our bout.”

“Marinette!” The teacher startled as she caught a glimpse of the pigtailed girl. “What are you doing up there?”

Effortlessly, the girl swung down from the ceiling, drawing the teacher’s attention away from Damian’s hiding place.

“Just improving my arm strength, Mistress Eva.” As she distracted his teacher with false information about his whereabouts, Damian climbed into the vents.

Marinette makes a surprisingly tolerable ally.

It didn’t seem to matter how many people Marinette killed; it never got easier. Surrounded by the bodies of Deathstroke’s traitors, she retched.

She was alone. Somehow, in the midst of the fight, she’d gotten separated from the rest of the League’s loyalists.

I need to get moving. I’m an easy target right now.

With a shuddering breath, she climbed to her feet and made her way out of the compound and into the shadows. It was there, staring at the ruins of the League’s strongest base, that the realization hit her.

“I’m free,” Marinette whispered, tears trickling down her face.

The Head of the Demon was dead, his followers scattered.

“I can finally go home.”

She ignored the voice in her mind that said her home was here, with the League, with Damian. She ignored the tightness in her chest at the thought of never seeing Damian again. She ignored the fear that he might already be dead.

The League kidnapped me. Talia abused me. Even if I managed to be happy here, I owe the Al Ghuls nothing. A vow of loyalty made under duress is no vow at all.

Her hands curled into fists.

And if they come for me again, I’ll be ready.

Damian scowled as their plane descended into Gotham.

“This is imbecilic. I should be assisting you in decimating our enemies, not hiding like a frightened child.”

“Damian,” his mother’s voice was cold. “This is not up for negotiation. You will stay here and train with your father.”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied bitterly. A moment passed, then he tilted his head in thought. “But what of my betrothed? If she is to be my equal, should she not train with me?”

Talia studied him carefully. “You use the singular of betrothed,” she noted. “Despite the fact that three remain alive. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me which one you consider your wife-to-be?”

“Tt. Your protégé, the Cheng girl, is the only one that even approaches competent. You know this.”

“I also know that you trained her separately – against my orders,” Talia said.

Damian nearly flinched. “And yet you didn’t stop me.”

“I wonder if that was a mistake,” his mother said. “You feel more for her than you should.”

“She is an effective ally. That is all.”

“Then you won’t mind being separated from her for a while.”

“Not at all, Mother,” Damian lied.

“Marinette? Is that you?” Her mother looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Marinette smiled. “Hello, Mama.”

Sabine reached out a shaking hand to cup her face. “How are you here? We saw you die.”

“Sabine, do you know where – ” Tom dropped the pan of croissants. “Marinette?”

He jumped over the counter and raced to her. Marinette took a step back before her mind caught up with her body.

This is Papa, you idiot. He’s not a threat.

She threw herself into his arms, shoving away her fears.

Twisting to face her mother, she said, “I don’t know how my death was faked, but I never died. The League kidnapped me.”

Tom’s arms tightened around her.

“The League?” Sabine’s face went pale. “What did they want with you?”

“The usual,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Revenge on you for leaving and a capable assassin and potential wife for Damian if I turned out to be any good.”

“Who’s Damian?” Tom asked with a frown.

Marinette grinned. “Oh, Damian’s great! He’s the Heir to the League, but he’s actually pretty okay for an assassin. He helped me get good enough to survive. You know, after I blackmailed and bribed him.”

“What?”

Meeting his father did not go the way Damian had imagined.

Talia always spoke of Bruce Wayne’s great intellect, his strength in combat, his determination in all things. She never mentioned his brainless playboy act, his absurd prohibition of killing, or his habit of taking in strays. Damian wasn’t sure which one was most offensive, but he was incredibly disappointed in his father regardless.

He had to reassess after he saw Batman at work. When not purposely acting like a buffoon, Bruce Wayne was everything his mother had described and more, entirely deserving of Damian’s respect.

He set out to prove himself in his father’s eyes. It didn’t go well. Whatever he did, it was the wrong thing. In any fight with the imposter sons, Damian was punished – even if he won. Assisting his father with Wayne Enterprises was met with an eye-roll and a request to stay away from Bruce’s office.

It should have made Damian angry but instead it hurt and Damian did not understand why.

And then his father was gone. Richard Grayson became Batman.

Damian became Robin. Finally.

And yet the triumph felt hollow.

Not to mention, it came with strings attached: ‘Murder is bad.’ ‘Justice, not vengeance.’ ‘Robin doesn’t kill.’ ‘Protect rather than avenge.’

Grayson’s teachings were imbecilic. And yet he had to follow them. His mother had yet to finish with the traitors.

He wondered where Marinette was, if she was undergoing similar training, if she fought the way he did to reign in the bloodlust. Considering how she had to hide her dislike of killing, how she helped heal her competitors, he thought probably not.

Slowly, things got easier. Grayson became tolerable. Damian learned to suppress the instinct, the muscle memory that said ‘kill or be killed.’ He found an adoration for animals and learned to deal with his classmates. He finally began to understand why Grayson and his father valued life so highly. His father came back and he chose to deny the League. Wayne Manor became home.

On days when he struggled, he retreated to his room and the comfort of his sketchbook. And if a certain blue-eyed girl made an appearance every few pages, well, who would know but him?

Returning home did not go the way Marinette had imagined.

She knew it wouldn’t be sunshine and roses, of course. But she hadn’t expected the magnitude of the changes in her home, or in herself.

School was laughably easy. Marinette had the equivalent of several college degrees. Finding x and learning how to spell ‘earthquake’ was a waste of her time. Instead, she spent class drawing and coming up with increasingly complex plans for fighting off the League should they try to kidnap her again.

She kept herself closed off from her classmates – she didn’t know how she’d ever called them friends. They were neutral parties at best – not one ever stood up for her against Chloe. Her parents encouraged them to give her classmates a chance, but the League had trained her well. Misplaced trust could kill. And Marinette had fought long enough for survival to know that dropping your guard was a death knell.

She hated hurting her parents though.

Though they tried to hide it, she saw the pain cross their faces when she flinched away from hugs. When she moved like an assassin rather than a child. When she gave away her stuffed animals. When she skipped family game night and spent her time training.

She hated hurting her parents. So she changed.

Marinette locked away her lethal grace, faking clumsiness and turning it into an art form. She hid her weapons, training only when her parents were asleep. She returned to family game nights; she initiated hugs. At school, she became bubbly and friendly again, though she trusted no one.

More than anything, she tried to atone. She sought out those in need and tried to help – whether by providing food, babysitting, or making them warm clothing. She discovered an interest in fashion design, but mostly stuck to making the essentials for those in need. She met a tiny floating bug named Tikki and became a superhero.

On days when she struggled, she retreated to her room and the comfort of her sketchbook. And if green eyes and a cocky smirk featured prominently in the book, well, who would know but her?

Damian frowned as he followed his brother into Wayne Enterprises.

"I don't understand why it's so important for me to be here."

"C'mon, Baby Bird!" Dick said. "You said you wanted to be more involved in the company!"

"I meant the business side of things," Damian said. "I have no interest in showing around a gaggle of unruly teenagers."

"You're a teenager too," Dick pointed out. "It'll be fun!"

Damian sniffed. "I'm an adult. And fun, really? Surely you don't truly believe that?"

Dick sighed. "Just give it a chance, okay? They seem like really great kids."

They walked into the lobby and Damian stopped short, eyes catching on long black hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"Marinette?"

In truth, Marinette wasn't all that excited about the Wayne Enterprises tour. The architecture was interesting, sure, but her class had a habit of making themselves a target and Bruce Wayne's patronage was not helping.

She gave it three days, at most, before they got in trouble with Gotham's Rouges.

Which meant she was on 'keep the class from dying' duty. Joy.

She kept her eyes and ears peeled, which meant that she heard the faint whisper of her name from an unfamiliar voice.

"Marinette?"

Forest-green eyes filled with far too much emotion had her breath catching in her throat.

"Damian?"

With obvious effort, the League's Heir pulled himself together. "Fancy meeting you here, Dupain-Cheng."

His voice. Oh, kwami, it should be illegal to look AND sound that good. Nope. Nope. Not doing this. He's an assassin, get your act together, Marinette.

"Al-Ghul." She was proud that her voice betrayed nothing. "I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you here. This doesn't seem like your scene."

She reached out for a handshake and was taken off guard when Damian kissed her hand instead. She blushed.

"It's Wayne now," Damian said. "I'm... no longer associated with the Al-Ghuls. Or their business."

He's not an assassin anymore? Yes! I knew you were a good person deep, deep down, Dami!

"Really? I broke ties with them several years ago myself."

See that, Damian? We're both good people. Good people that would be great toget - no! Bad Marinette!

Damian grinned. "In that case, I look forward to reconnecting. Perhaps after the tour?"

Oh, kwami, I'm doomed.

"I'd like that."

"What was that?" Dick asked in a low voice. "I've never seen you open up to someone so quickly."

With difficulty, Damian tore his gaze from Marinette.

Stars, she grew up gorgeous.

Damian smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. I met Marinette over a decade ago."

I wonder, does she still consider our betrothal valid?

"Wait, so she's an assassin?" Grayson blanched. "Who is she here to kill? Who do I have to protect? Ugh! Why can't you ever have normal friends?"

"Relax," Damian chided. "She's an ex-assassin. Like me."

"That does not make me feel better. Who is she to you?"

Damian hummed in thought, running through years of teasing, fighting, and spending time together. "She was my first friend."

And maybe now something more.

#daminette #maribat #maribat angst and fluff april

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regretthatsme · 3 years

Text

A Night to Remember

Harry Potter x Reader

I finally wrote it. This is smut. Very smut. Exceptionally smutty. 18+. Angst too.

@hestpwk072310

Harry was lost. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care. It was too much. First it was Cedric, then Sirius, now Dumbledore. It was all too much. Too much. Too much. Too-

Harry collapsed to the floor. He couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in. His heart was racing. His blood was rushing. What's happening? He was dying. He had to be. It was to only thing that made sense. Death seemed to be the only constant in his life. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

"Harry?"

The voice called to him. Must be an angel.

"Harry!"

He felt something touch his hand, though he couldn't have told you what it was. His hands went numb long ago.

"Harry. Listen to me. Can you hear me?" Yes. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say it so bad, but he couldn't. His body was unable. A small groan was the best he could do.

"Okay. Okay. Okay, listen to me. On three, we're going to breathe together, alright?" He could tell the voice was panicked. The was a certain exasperation that could only be described as anxiety. "One, two, three." Harry gasped at the air like a dying man. He kind of was.

"Good job, Harry. You're doing so well. Again. One, two, three." He gasped again but it was much easier.

"You're doing so well. Again. One, two, three." Harry finally opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a face, but there was little detail. His vision came into focus and saw... one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. Her hair, her eyes, her... concern. She cared. She cared about him. This had to be an angel.

"Am I dead?" Harry asked. "Are you an angel?"

The angel laughed for a second before responding. "No. I am not an angel, and, as far as I'm concerned, you are not dead."

Harry took another deep breath before mumbling, "Too pretty to be a person."

"While that is a very lovely compliment, I hate to say I am a human." She softly brushed hair off of Harry's sweaty forehead. "Now, it's quite late. We need to get you to bed." Her voice was as gentle as her touch. Harry limped back to his dorm, with the support of the lovely angel student. In his delirium, he forgot to ask for her name. The only thing he remembered in the morning was a yellow tie around her neck.

-*-*-*-

"Honestly, Hermione, it isn't that big of a deal."

"It is that big of a deal, Ronald. It's ridiculous. She's insisting that she survey the entire school! What is she even searching for? I can only imagine the affect on her mental health. Lack of sleep is very-"

"Will you please be quiet?" Harry whisper-shouted. His friends made a habit of bickering like a married couple and it's been getting on his last nerve. "And what are you on about, anyway? Just let them search Hogwarts."

"Harry, it's more complicated than that-" explained Hermione before Harry cut in.

"How? How is it more complicated? Please, enlighten me."

Hermione looked at Ron, almost as if asking for permission. "Well, it's Y/N. She's the Hufflepuff prefect. Ever since a few weeks ago, she has insisted that she is on petrol. And she checks the whole castle. It's like she doesn't trust us." Hermione expressed. "One time I followed her around the school and the whole time she was mumbling." Hermione was clearly livid about this. Y/N was showing a clear distrust and disdain for the other prefects. I mean, Malfoy is understandable, but Hermione? Ron? They were the nicest, well meaning people that Harry had probably ever met.

"Actually, she was mumbling about you, Harry." Hermione said.

"What?"

"Yeah, she kept going on and on about how you were and if you were okay. Which, don't get me wrong, is a perfectly valid thing to worry about. You have gone through much hardship, and mental health is important, but it seems a bit out of place, especially considering that she probably has never spoken to you or even taken interest in you before." Hermione confessed.

Harry was quote confused. Why would she suddenly start to take an intrest in me? Unless...

"Hermione, what does Y/N look like?"

"Oh! Um.... she has h/c hair and e/c eyes. We have a fair few classes with her. She's always top of the class." It all came back to him in one big rush. The hair that framed her face perfectly, her eyes that sparkled like jewels, her tender touch.

"I.... I think I know her."

-*-*-*-

If she goes on petrol every day, travels around the whole school, and I have an invisibility cloak plus a map, we will find each other.

Harry crept into the hallway and took out his map.

Where is she? Where is she? Where is-

Y/N L/N.

Harry raced to her. He moved as fast as he could. He was running and running and running until-

She's there.

In front of him.

And she knows he's there.

Because she's calling his name.

Harry takes off the invisibility cloak. He clears his throat. "Hello, Y/N." She nods towards him as a hello.

"You need anything?" Her eyes began to fill with concern. "Oh no. Is something wrong? It has to be. Why would you be coming to see me."

"No!" Harry was quick to reassure Y/N. He cupped her cheek and caressed her cheek bone. Maybe the James in him was acting up, but she didn't seem to reject his advances. In fact, she seemed quite comforted by it. "No. No. It's not that. I just wanted to say.... thank you. So incredibly much."

"What ever for?"

"For... just worrying, honestly. I know you helped me when I was having a panic attack and then you stayed up every night to see if I need help." Her face heated up. Harry could feel it on his hand. He smirked a bit. "Thank you. Truly. I just wish I could repay you."

"I can think of a few ways." Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean to say that."

"Well. How do I repay you?" Harry's smirk was much more apparent.

"I told you, I didn't mean to say that."

"But you did say it, and I would really, really, really, really, really, love to make it up to you."

Y/N looked down for a minute before mumbling "a kiss."

"What was that? Speak up, love."

"A kiss. I know, it childish and your not going to want to - mmmph!" Harry had already pulled Y/N into what she desired most. It was... perfect. Nothing short of absolutely magical. It was soft and quick and yet spoke so much.

"Was that good enough?"

"Actually, I'd quite like you to do that again." So they did. And then again. And again. And again. And again. Each time longer than the last. A passionate battle of lips, teeth, and tongue. A quiet wimper was released from Y/N. "Ha-oh!-Harry."

"Yes, love?" He began to kiss down her neck.

"Harry! We're in the middle of the hallway! Anyone could see us."

"What are you suggesting?"

"How about we go somewhere a bit more...... private."

The two teenagers quickly ran off to the Room of Requirements, which had spawned a rather lovely bed, a loveseat next to a fireplace, and bath, which was sure to get some use later. Their clothes came off in a frenzy of hushed whispers and lingering kisses.

Soon, the gravity of what was about to happen took over Harry and Y/N.

"Are... are you sure?" Harry asked. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Y/N said. She kissed Harry so softly. So lovingly. "I've never been so sure of anything."

Harry smiled before kissing down the expanse of her body. First her neck, then her tits, then her stomach until he was right in front of her sex, glistening in the romantic light of the room. "You look so beautiful."

"Please."

"Please what, princess?"

"Touch me. Please."

Harry finally gave Y/N what she wanted. He placed a thumb to her clit. She bucked her hips into him. "Try to keep still for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

He rubbed soft, sensuous circles. Luscious moans left her lips. Her hips moved occasionally and every time they would, Harry pinned her hips down harder. "Your pussy is so pretty." Whispered Harry. She moaned at this. "Such a pretty pussy. Looks good enough to.... eat?"

"Yes! Please. Please eat me out." Her begging was all that Harry needed to hear. His tongue met her folds and he moaned, the vibrations sending shock waves up her spine.

"So sweet, darling." He said as he inserted a finger. A large gasp erupted out of Y/N's mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" They kept this up until Y/N could feel her orgasm approaching. "Fuck! Oh..... I'm gonna cum. I'm close." Harry pulled away just before she could. The whine that left her lips was almost pitiable. Almost.

"Awweee. Did I made you cry, Angel?" Harry mocked. Y/N hated how that turned her on even more.

"Why did you do that, Har?"

"Well, personally, I would love to feel you cum on my cock." She hummed before nodding and spreading her legs even wider. That was before her eyes snapped open.

"Wait!" Her eyes held so much worry.

"What? What's wrong?"

"It's just... I've never done this before."

Harry cooed and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry. We're going to take it nice and slow. Ready?" She nodded once again and he entered her. They could only look into each other's eyes. Harry hissed through his teeth like a snake, which would not be too out of character seeing as he is a parceltongue. Y/N had a slight grimace on her face as a tear trickled down her cheek. Harry kissed it away as he let her adjust.

"You can move. Please move." He moved slowly and the slightly uncomfortable feeling slowly became a most pleasurable sensation. The moans became louder and louder as the movements became faster and faster and the sound of skin-on-skin became harder and harder. Soon, the familiar feeling bubbled up again. "Oooohhhhhhh fuck. I'm so close. I'm going to cum. Please let me cum. Please, please, please, please."

Harry let her beg for a few more seconds before allowing her to cum with fake reluctance. Her pussy squeased him just right. She absolutely milked his dick. He came not even a minute later. His head naturally found its way to the crook of her neck. She gripped his broad shoulders as she came down from her high.

"Holy shit. I just fucked the chosen one." Harry giggled with her as they collapsed on the bed. Harry slowly pulled his dick out of Y/N.

"I need to get a washcloth for you. We made quite the mess." One conveniently formed next to them. He ran the cloth under the tap of the bathtub. "Can you spread your legs for me, Angel?" The feeling of the cold cloth made her jump.

"'m sorry."

"Don't be. You were incredible." Y/N smiled.

"I'm going to remember tonight forever."

"As will I."

#harry james potter #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter x hufflepuff!reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x reader smut #harry potter smut #i finally did it #i finally did the thing

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majoraop · 3 years

Photo

It partially overlapped with the Corazon Week so I didn’t have much time to make something for the Heart Pirates Week, but I managed to write a short story inspired by several prompts at once ("strength", "longing", "soft", and "caged"). The prompts are mostly used in the song pictured above (written by Law’s reincarnation in my “A Tale of Two Dragons” soulmate AU), which I included in the fanfic. The story features the CoraLaw pairing, the core Heart Pirates crew (Shachi/Penguin/Bepo), and a one-sided LuLaw.

A Tale of Two Dragons – Moon Chapter “You could smile for once, you know?” Penguin told Law while elbowing a chuckling Shachi. “Is he always like this?” Rocinante sat next to Law, smiling at the camera Luffy was holding. “Yeah. He has always been like this.” Law sighed, already exhausted even if they had just departed for their Moon Tour—as Luffy had dubbed it. “My…brother”—just a moment of hesitation, but Rocinante couldn’t avoid forever bringing Doffy up—“told me that all people inhabiting our world came from the moon. I wonder what we’ll find there!” “I told you already,” Law said with a grin. “There are people with wings on the moon—like angels.” “Really?” Bepo, the younger component of their band, was staring at Law with a gaping mouth. “Really,” Law echoed him with a serious face. Penguin and Shachi tried to say something, but Law sent a glare in their direction and they closed their mouths. “They have fluffy wings and celestial voices,” he continued. “Oh…” Bepo blushed. He was a timid boy with a soft spot for pretty singers—but a skilled drummer for his age. “Law…you should stop now,” Rocinante reproached him playfully. “But it’s real!” Luffy exclaimed. “I remember people with wings living in the old world!” Everyone looked at him, wondering if he was joking. However, there was no trace of doubts or lies in Luffy’s eyes. Law actually believed in those stories too, but he still had fun teasing Bepo. “I can’t wait to meet them!” the boy whispered, blushing even more, and everyone laughed. --- “Look, Law, we’re almost there!” Luffy’s enthusiasm rubbed off on Law, too, when he looked out of the porthole of the flying ship they rented for their journey. The moon was so near now that he could distinguish a large city quite clearly. Sentient beings were living up there, and he wouldn’t be able to refuse Luffy his craved moon concert. Law groaned. His life had changed so fast he hadn’t been able to adapt yet. He hadn't even finished writing his new song! “It looks beautiful,” Rocinante whispered, putting an arm around his shoulders. “I can’t believe we’re travelling together as we promised to do.” “If only those troublemakers weren't around…” “Oh no, it’s better like this!” Rocinante smiled. “Your friends are a nice, funny bunch, and I can help with your band. You know, I’ve learned some useful skills.” Law stared at his confident grin. “What skills?” he asked, mildly worried. He hoped it didn’t involve setting things on fire—the speciality of Rocinante’s old self. “I’m a dresser,” Rocinante said proudly. “Well, not really—not yet at least, but I studied costume design. I have a great fashion sense, you know?” Law didn’t remember the old Roci and his Corazon alter ego having a great fashion sense at all—if anything else, it was the contrary. “Leave it to me,” Rocinante said, puffing up his chest. Law felt a shiver running down his spine as he hesitantly nodded at him. --- You always gave me strength Once, I was a child who lost his heart Once, I was a child who got your heart On the second night after they arrived at their destination, Law was finally able to sit down and work on his song. Penguin was playing his guitar in another room together with Shachi, the bassist of their band. Bepo and Luffy were keeping them company, and Law heard the latter singing. His cheerful voice put him in a good mood, which helped him resolve a difficult verse. He would have loved to spend some time alone with Rocinante, but he needed to finish writing his composition first. Besides, Roci was busy designing their stage costumes. Law looked down at his laptop and deleted a sentence. He remained pensive for a moment. Then, he typed a new line. He hummed the refrain one last time and nodded, satisfied. He would sing this song alone, Luffy only joining him for the chorus. He needed to sing this song alone. Law saved the file and closed the lid of his laptop. --- They still needed an agent so, after finishing working on his song, Law started searching for one. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin accompanied him while Roci kept working on their costumes. Luffy, too, decided to stay back: he hadn't had much time to learn Law's new song, and even if he would only sing the chorus he wanted to practise some more. Law wondered if Luffy understood how much that song was important for him and thus wanted to make a perfect performance. Sorry, he thought, knowing how Luffy felt about him. “This place is huge!” Penguin’s comment pulled Law out of his thoughts, and he surveyed his surroundings. That city was the main hub of the moon. The skyscrapers that soared against the starry night looked like buildings out of an ancient civilization, but they were made from glass and not blocks of stone. A giant bubble covered the city under a protective dome and shielded it from cosmic radiations, and at its outskirts, smaller bubbles encircled fields and farms. Factories were situated on the dark side of the moon and connected to the central hub by underground bullet train. During their stay there, Law had learned that water was scarce on the moon: there weren’t rivers, lakes, or seas, but people had been able to survive thanks to their advanced technology. Tiny humanoid robots took care of manual labour, so the citizens of the moon had plenty of free time. Unsurprisingly, upon learning that Law and his group were a rock band, they had immediately asked them to hold a concert. “People of the moon do have wings, but they are small,” Bepo interrupted Law’s thoughts, sounding a bit disappointed. “They can't fly like that.” “They don’t need wings to fly,” Shachi told him. “Can’t you see the floating vehicles above our heads?” “It’s not the same.” Bepo pouted. “But their wings are still fluffy at least,” Shachi insisted, clearly amused. “Aye-Aye, they are fluffy.” Bepo nodded, smiling. Law barely registered their silly conversation as he wondered how many marvellous things were waiting for him and Roci to discover. The thought of being able to experience all of that with him filled him with a happiness he had never felt before in his current of previous lives. --- Finding an agent turned out to be surprisingly easy. After talking with some local people, they met an extravagant man with sparkly, ambitious eyes—a foreigner probably, since he didn't have wings. Nevertheless, he had the right contacts, so they hired him. The day of the concert arrived in no time, and now Law was staring, appalled, at the clothes and accessories displayed before him. “What. Are. These.” He managed to say after the first moment of shock. “These? Your stage costume and accessories, of course!” Rocinante said with a big grin on his face. Law glared at the black leather pants, the belt with a ridiculous-looking, heart-shaped buckle, the earrings, the rings, and the “shoes”. The shoes were the worst part: how was he supposed to sing and dance on those stilts?! Law put his hand to his face, sighing, and flung himself upon the armchair behind him. “You’ll look great in them, Law!” Luffy exclaimed, looking at him like he usually looked at delicious meat—his favourite food. Law felt a bit bad for him since he couldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but Luffy was a good person and had accepted Law's relationship with Roci without hesitation. Law sighed again and closed his eyes, massaging his temples with his thumbs. “I love it!” Bepo cried next to him when Roci showed him his costume. Law glanced at it and was only able to distinguish a white fur-something. “And these are for you,” Rocinante told Penguin and Shachi with a smiling face. Law straightened his back, ready to savour the horror on his friends’ faces, but they didn't react as he expected but just let out their breath in relief. Law stood up to see their costumes closer and then frowned. “Why do their clothes look normal and they also have a shirt? Why can’t I wear a shirt too?!” “It’s because you’re the star, my dear!” Rocinante beamed. “But Luffy is the co-star, and yet he'll wear a shirt!” Law felt he was losing his sanity. “It fits his look better,” Rocinante replied with a serious expression. “…I give up.” Law threw his hands on the air and returned to his armchair. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time he appeared in public shirtless...Oh. He had just remembered about that. So, there were still parts of his past pirate life that he had not recalled yet. Ok, let’s go all out then. “Roci, I need you to paint my chest,” he said, trying not to blush. At that, even Rocinante looked surprised. “What do you mean?” “I mean a fake tattoo—nothing too complex, just some black ink.” “Oh, I remember that!” Luffy chimed in. Just perfect. Law wanted to disappear, but it wasn’t like his heart-shaped tattoo had been a mystery in his past life. He had walked around showing it on his bare chest like war painting when—no, he needed to stop thinking about that. Doflamingo wasn’t an enemy anymore. Now, we’re all free from our past. “I…can draw it if you show me the design you’ve in mind,” Roci told him. “Follow me.” Law stood up. “Just you,” he added when he saw the others moving too. That symbol on his chest had been his source of strength during his turbulent, painful past. More importantly, it had been a memento of his Cora-san. Only Rocinante could hear about it. --- When Law stepped out of his dressing room, he was welcomed by Penguin and Shachi’s barely held laughter and Luffy’s loud cheering. Bepo, instead, just looked at him with a worried expression. Law sighed and tried a few slow steps on his heels. Thankfully, he was able to walk normally. “You look fantastic,” Rocinante whispered, his eyes lingering on Law’s painted chest. Law blushed. There were no secrets left between them: he literally wore his heart on his skin—his feelings for that man for all to see. Now, he was ready to step on stage and scream his love for him. The white sea of clouds below me is spotless, I recall colourless roofs and skin now spotted, I recall cries and tears, smoke and flames, I recall being saved and then encaged. I remember falling on a pile of trash, I remember silence—and when it crashed. You always gave me strength Once, I was a child who lost his heart Once, I was a child who got your heart The waves are rolling and splashing before me, I recall blue oceans and endless adventures, I recall allies, friends, and their laughter, I recall legends, myths, and old treasures. I remember searching for the truth of my name, I remember crowning the very King of Pirates. You always gave me strength Once, I was a child who lost his heart Once, I was a child who got your heart The boundless sea of stars is sparkling above me, I recall worlds below and above the mountains, I recall the promise I exchanged with you, I recall black feathers, comfy and soft. I remember longing for you in the night, I remember you smiling for the last time. You always gave me strength Once, I was a child who lost his heart Once, I was a child who got your heart You always gave me strength Once, I was a child who lost his heart Once, I was a child who got your heart… A child no more, I give your heart back. [SOULMATE]

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shuadotcom · 3 years

Text

Read Your Mind | KTH (M)

♦ Summary: You just want to find your friends and enjoy the party, but instead you find out that maybe you aren’t where you’re supposed to be.

♦ Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Human Female!Reader

♦ Genre: Vampire AU, supernatural AU

♦ Rating: NC17

♦ Warnings: Cursing, teasing, implied sex

♦ Word Count: 2.9k

♦ A/N: For @btsholidaybingo | Bing Square: Vampire | Songspo: Read Your Mind - Avant

This has been 98% done for weeks, but I couldn’t write a proper ending for the life of me. Huge, giant thank you to Mars (@joheun-saram) and Danna (@unoriginal-username15432) for beta reading this and helping me try and scrounge up an ending I didn’t hate! ❤️❤️

You can swear that Mingyu texted you the right address. The house number on your phone clearly reads 1230, which matches the numbers on the beige paneled house in front of you. The street is quite dark for it to be nearly 10:30 pm on Halloween night, but the music is loud enough that you can hear it from the sidewalk.

You glance at your texts once more and make your way up to the porch, music blaring as soon as you open the door. The inside of the house is not as dark as it looked from the outside, but it’s still dim, and there aren’t enough lights. Surprisingly, it doesn't smell like cheap beer and weed, which you’re used to smelling, having been to many house parties. Instead, the air is reminiscent of burning incense and something that you can only describe as a coppery scent.

Squinting, you see if you can recognize any of the nearby faces, but you can’t place a name to anyone around you. You pull your phone out of your clutch and shoot a quick text message to the group chat to see where your friends are.

Y/n: Hellooooooo I just walked in. Where are you losers?

Mingyu: Wow and only an hour and a half late

Wonwoo: We’re in the kitchen

Vernon: I will literally down all of these jell-o shots if you don’t get your ass in here

Y/n: IF THAT INCLUDES THE CHERRY ONES I WILL END YOU CHWE 😡

Vernon: 🍒👅

Y/n: 🔪🔪

With nothing but cherry jell-o and strangling your friend on your mind, you miss the multiple sets of eyes staring at you until you put your phone away. A group of costumed party-goers is watching your every move from where they’re standing near the staircase. At least two of them have glowing red contacts, which doesn’t help your unease. Eager to leave, your eyes scan the room, and you decide to venture to the left of the house, away from most of the crowd.

Upon reaching the kitchen, you don’t see Mingyu, Vernon, or any of your other friends. The kitchen itself is empty altogether. After sending a quick text telling your friends to stop fucking with you, you decide a drink is in order.

A quick survey of the dismal spread tells you your only options are clear bottles of red wine and a punch bowl of what you can only assume is jungle juice or another alcoholic punch concoction.

Deciding on the punch, you ladle yourself a cup. It’s oddly thick when you scoop it, and it drips instead of pours into your plastic cup. Taking a sniff, you notice it’s the same coppery smell that got your attention when you first walked in. Up close, the scent makes you gag, and you recoil. What the fuck is in this drink?

Before you can take a cautionary sip, the sense of a presence has you halting and whipping around, only to knock into the solid body that appeared behind you. Two sturdy arms belonging to the man who caught you wrap around your waist, keeping you from busting your ass completely.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” You laugh awkwardly and try to remove yourself from his arms, but his grip is much stronger than yours.

“No need to apologize, doll. It’s an honor to be this close to you.” You narrow your eyes at him. Something about his tone is off, and you don’t like it. With a quick survey of him, you see that admittedly, he’s extremely good looking. Between his dark, curly hair, thick thighs, and tattoos peeking through the sheer sleeve of his grey shirt, he’s definitely your type, but again, something is off, and you can’t pinpoint it. Even in a bunny-eared headband and a painted-on pink nose, it doesn’t seem right to be here with him like this.

“Well, uh, thank you,” Again, you attempt to wiggle out of his hold, but instead, he pulls you closer, burying his nose into your neck. “What the f-”

“Do you have any idea how divine you smell?”

“Thank you? Look, just l-let me g-go,” A sudden fuzzy sensation takes over your body, and your ability to form coherent sentences seems harder than earlier. You hadn’t even taken a sip of punch, so you know it can’t be that.

The mystery bunny man uses your lethargy to his advantage and places a few kisses on your neck. His lips are cold and send a chill through your body. You want to shove him away, but your mind is hazy.

“This’ll only hurt a bit, doll, but you’ll like it, I promise,” he murmurs into your skin. Your mouth won’t let you ask what he means, but then you feel the sharpness of his teeth grazing your skin. Your brain is screaming, but no sound leaves your lips. This is wrong. Very, very wrong. Are you seriously about to be bitten by a vampire?

“Jungkook, what do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice ringing out through the kitchen has the man you now know as Jungkook pausing before his teeth pierce your skin.

He lets out a scoff and pulls away from you. “Oh, come on, Hyung, what does it look like?”

The man enters your vision from behind Jungkook, and you make eye contact, doing your best to plead with him without words.

“Let her go and stop using your powers on her. Poor girl’s eyes look as dead as your heart.”

Jungkook mumbles something you can’t hear under his breath and releases the hold he has on you. You slump back, and in an instant, the fog that was swirling around your head lifts. You blink a few times as your senses return.

“You’re no fun.” Jungkook pouts at the other man before stomping out of the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

After watching Jungkook go, the man turns back to you, his chocolate eyes scanning you from head to toe. You can’t help but shrink further under his gaze. His vibe is different from Jungkook’s, less menacing, but he is just as attractive, which still makes you nervous. Slicked back black hair showcases intense eyebrows and a chiseled jaw. He’s tall and not as muscular but can still clearly throw you around like a doll if he wanted to. And honestly, you kind of want him to.

“I do apologize on behalf of him. He’s the youngest of my brothers and still behaves recklessly sometimes.” He smiles widely, and you see fangs poking out, even though he is very clearly wearing the signature purple suit of the Joker. “I’m Taehyung, and I like your costume, by the way. Are you a leopard?”

You adjust your leopard print jumpsuit, suddenly very aware of how form-fitting it is. “Y/n. And no, I’m Scary Spice. You know, from the Spice Girls?” This makes him chuckle.

“Of course, my mistake.”

You point towards his outfit. “If you’re the Joker, why isn’t your face done up to match?”

Taehyung shrugs. “It’s an old costume that I threw on last minute. I didn’t have much time for the whole thing.” He’s still smirking at you. “What’s the matter, kitten?” He asks, but his tone suggests that he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You do your best to ignore the way his use of the pet name affects you. “I just want to find my friends. They should be here waiting for me.”

“Oh? Who are your friends? I know everyone at this party.”

“Uh, do you know Mingyu, Vernon, Wonwoo, or Seungcheol? They’re dressed as the other four Spice Girls, so they’re not hard to miss.”

After a few seconds of thinking, the man shakes his head. “Nope, can’t say anyone by those names are here...but I think you knew that already.” He starts to advance towards you, trapping you in place. “It seems you’ve stumbled into the wrong Halloween party, kitten.”

You dig your phone out of your clutch and double-check the address, showing it to him. He shakes his head. “That’s the next street over.”

Something had told you before even walking into the house that something was wrong, but hearing Taehyung confirm it proved that you weren’t just paranoid. The smell of copper and the red liquid in the kitchen, the alleged glowing contacts of people in the front room, and the fact that Jungkook nearly took a literal bite out of you all pointed to what this was. You believed in the supernatural, sure, but it was never at the forefront of your mind that you would run into a supernatural person. Until tonight.

“How interesting,” Taehyung starts. “The realization that you’ve shown up to a party hosted by a house full of vampires doesn’t seem to stress you out nearly as much as it should. Why is that?”

You’re honestly not sure, and when you tell him that, he laughs. “You know, you humans are always so fascinated with the supernatural, especially with us. We’re truly not that different than you all, you know.” Taehyung has you pressed against the counter, and you know he can hear how fast your heart is beating. You watch as his eyes flicker from brown to a deep red color.

The way he’s looking at you is different from Jungkook’s earlier gaze. The latter made you feel helpless since you had seemingly lost control over yourself. It was scary, and you are more than glad that Taehyung swooped in when he did. With him, though, the way that he’s hovering over you and studying your face is exhilarating.

Maybe you’ve finally lost it. Maybe every failed relationship you’ve had has finally gotten to you. Perhaps you’re that desperate right now. Either way, being in the arms of a vampire is better than any human you’ve been this close to.

“Your heart is racing right now. I already know the answer, but tell me anyway; what are you thinking?” He’s so close to you that his lips graze your earlobe. All of your senses are on high alert in the best way possible.

“About you.”

“And what about me?”

“Kissing you.”

Taehyung chuckles and licks his lips. Slow and deliberate. “Oh my, how forward of you. We’ve only just met, kitten.”

You stutter as a blush creeps up your neck. “I-I’m-”

“I’m only teasing you.” Taehyung’s nimble fingers come up to toy with one of your bra straps peeking out of the neckline of your jumpsuit. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you since you walked through the front door.”

He watched you walk in? How long had he been watching you? Before you can ask him, his lips are pressing into yours with a sense of urgency as he brings his body closer to yours. The marble countertop digging into your back is insignificant compared to the way your body buzzes in response to Taehyung. His mouth tastes sweet, and his lips are so soft, which are both heavy contrasts to the way his broad hands are gripping your hips so tight you’re sure you’re bruising through your outfit.

The way his teeth nip at your bottom lip elicits a soft moan from you. He uses the opportunity to suck your tongue into his mouth, and your quiet sounds grow louder, as does the stickiness in your panties. His sharp canines graze against your tongue, and you’re so close to begging him to take you on the kitchen floor of this strange house. Just as you begin rutting against his muscled thigh between your legs, he pulls away, leaving you panting and whimpering.

“You’ve got to go now, kitten.”

“Wh-What?” Your body is still buzzing while Taehyung looks much more composed.

“Your friends are waiting for you.”

“But I don’t want to.” You whine out, sounding childish, but you don’t care. You can’t believe he’s just going to leave you like this.

“Just close your eyes for me. Can you do that?” He’s whispering in your ear again, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Taehyung, I want you so bad.” Your words echo, and they sound slurred. It’s harder to open your eyes.

“And you’ll have me, kitten. Soon.” He places a kiss on your neck, and the same woozy, disconnected sensation you had felt with Jungkook washes over you. You can’t open your eyes, and you want so badly to say something to Taehyung, but your tongue feels impossibly heavy, and you seemingly have forgotten how to speak. Before you can gather any more thoughts, everything goes quiet and dark.

“Y/n? Wake up.” Hearing your name brings you out of your sleep-like state. As your eyes open and adjust, you anticipate the chiseled face of the vampire you were just kissing, but instead of seeing Taehyung’s piercing red eyes, you’re met with Mingyu’s brown ones.

Sitting up fast, you see your friend kneeling in front of you. Vernon, Wonwoo, and Seungcheol stand behind him with matching looks of concern mixed with annoyance.

“What’s going on?” You ask, thoroughly confused.

“We’ve been looking for you for like an hour! You stopped answering our texts, so we practically turned the house upside down, trying to find you!” Vernon explained.

“Come to find out you’re just here in the living room. Passed out on the couch.” Seungcheol deadpans.

Looking around, you see that you’re lying on a grey cloth couch. Around you is the rest of the party. A few people are glancing your way in concern, but for the most part, the remainder of the partygoers don’t notice you or your friends. The room is well lit and reeks of beer. The complete opposite of the house full of vampires you had just been in.

Or that you thought you had just been in.

“Where’s Taehyung?”

“Who?” Mingyu offers you his hand, which you take.

“Taehyung. Dark hair, dressed as the Joker.”

“The only guy here I’ve seen dressed at the Joker is Minghao.” Wonwoo gestures to another mutual friend across the room whose tongue is currently down a Harley Quinn’s throat.

“Well, now that we know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere, are you up to actually enjoy the rest of the party?” Vernon asks as he adjusts his Sporty Spice track pants.

You agree and follow your friends over to another group of people you all know. Your head doesn’t hurt, and the fog over your mind is completely clear, but you’re still confused. Recalling the handful of shots you threw back before you left home to pregame, you try to remember if it was enough to cause you to blackout on the couch. Your dream felt so real, from how Jungkook influenced your mind to the pure need that Taehyung filled you with. You can practically still feel his grip on your body and his mouth on yours.

When Vernon offers you a glass of water, you down it in less than a minute to calm your vivid memories of Taehyung and the dull ache between your legs.

Only another hour goes by before you, and your friends say your goodbyes and pile into your respective Ubers. Once you’re home, you get ready for bed with your mind still stuck on your dream and Taehyung. You think of him as you undress and shower, not able to resist touching yourself at the realistic sensation of him.

He’s still on your mind as you settle into bed and attempt to distract yourself by scrolling through Twitter. You’re so caught up in your head that you don’t even notice the figure reclining on your couch across the room until he clears his throat.

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you sit up and whip around, ready to fight your intruder. You abandon this quickly when you see him stand up.

“Taehyung?”

“Hello, kitten,” his smooth, deep baritone echoes through the quiet room. He is at your bedside in no time, your studio apartment not leaving much space between the two of you, to begin with.

“I-I thought, uh, I thought you were a dream,” you stutter as he crawls onto your bed. You notice he’s no longer in his Joker costume, but a pair of black slacks and loose, white button-down instead. He still looks breathtaking. “I was with you...but then I wasn’t? I was with my friends, and you were gone, and I-”

“Ssh,” he places a finger over your lips. “Don’t worry about that right now, kitten. I’m here now, and we need to finish what we started.” His hand travels up your thigh as he speaks, fingers dangerously close to your core. “I heard you in the shower a little bit ago. I know how much you missed me.”

Did you fall asleep with your phone in your hand? Is this truly happening?

You aren’t entirely sure, but the way Taehyung suddenly tears your shirt open and latches his lips around your nipple feels very real to you. The number of times he has you orgasming into the night is also very real, and the soreness you feel throughout your body stays with you even as you wake the next morning.

It’s obvious Taehyung is determined to make sure you stop doubting his existence and thinking your time together is some sort of dream, even if it takes him the entirety of the day and into the rest of the weekend.

#btsholidaybingo #btsnoonanet #ficswithluv #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #thebtswritersclub #bangtanuniversity #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #magicshopnet #thebtsficarchive #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #vampire taehyung #taehyung fic

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miss-tc-nova · 3 years

Text

Taboo Indulgence - Riku x Reader

Have you ever read any of @lucky0stars YMX x Reader fics? You should. They are amazing! Seriously, check them out. That’s what got me thinking about relationships between GoL and SoD characters. I don’t think I got exactly the dynamic I was hoping for, but without making a gigantic series of this, I probably won’t. So tada!

Also, screw coming up with a title for this!!!

~~~~~

Nary a noise breaks the silence upon arrival. A canvas of stars stretches across the sky, framing the pale moon that graciously grants its borrowed light. It’s a beautiful night tonight on Radiant Garden; it makes me excited to see him again. I’ve been keeping tabs on him for a while now and finally, after some weeks, I’ve managed to intertwine our paths once again.

Excitement bursts in my chest when I catch sight of the young man up ahead and my feet swiftly carry me in his direction.

Breath suspended in my lungs, I stalk towards my prey. His head is bowed, watching the little device in his hand; however, his attention is not entirely employed in the screen. He pauses to glance around but I’m lucky enough to have found cover around the corner of a shop. His walk resumes, as does my stalking.

Grinning ear to ear, eager to get my hands on him, practically trembling in anticipation, I reach out.

My fists snag his jacket and the full weight of my body throws both of us back into the dark portal. The second our feet reconnect with solid ground, he rips away from me, retaliating with a keyblade ilms from my skull but never connects. Our eyes meet and his teal eyes shift from fight to something much brighter.

“What are you doing here?” he says, putting his all into sounding annoyed.

Smile none perturbed, I hum, “Oh, you know, caught wind that my favorite Guardian was traipsing around Radiant Garden and I just had to have some fun.”

“How many times have I told you to stay away from me?” Despite our opposition, his guard drops.

“Nine. And yet you ended our last little rendezvous with ‘Remind me to teach you some manners the next time I see you,’” I say in a rather spot on imitation of him if I do say so myself. “So it seems to me, that you were expecting me to come crashing into your life again, Riku. And who am I to disappoint.”

Oh, my joy is tremendous in seeing that frown as his words are turned on him.

He grumbles, “Yeah, well, you still don’t have any manners.”

“You didn’t like my little sneak attack?” I feign shock.

“No, otherwise it wouldn’t be called an attack.”

“Sure it would.” Twirling around, I wave to the peculiar rising falls. “Besides, just look at this view. How could I find someplace so beautiful and not share it? You should be honored.”

His teal eyes look out at the water. With a sigh, he dismisses his keyblade. “It is pretty; more than it is during the day actually.” I grin but he’s not really having it. “Was there actually something you wanted me for?”

“No, not really,” I hum, my gaze following the water to the sky.

When I realize there’s no response, I turn to him. There’s something on his face I’ve only seen glimpses of. Since we met in the Realm of Dreams, Riku’s made a point of keeping me at arm’s length with a serious attitude. I can’t blame him, but now and then, he slips up and shows me someone gentle and almost innocent. However, this is the first time he’s worn that expression while looking at me. It’s almost as if he wants to interact without his usual bite and I find myself now and then hoping that he will.

And then he realizes I’m watching him and glares.

“So you just wanted to be annoying.”

“Aren’t I always annoying you, Riku?” I say with a cheeky shrug.

“I suppose that is your M.O.,” he mutters. “So what did you get up to since your last ambush in Arendelle?

“Ah, you know. Some heartless here, some terror over there. The usual.”

His head shakes. “You’re impossible to understand.”

“I don’t know why. I’ve been perfectly honest with you.” His skepticism is palpable. “Oh you wound me! How could you ever assume I would lie to you?! Go on, ask me anything.”

He ponders his opportunity. “What were you doing in Twilight Town last week?”

I shake my head, hands raised. “Well I can’t tell you that.”

“You said you’d tell me anything.”

“No, I said I wouldn’t lie.”

“Okay, fine. Why do you keep following me?”

That’s a question I could answer in a heartbeat: it’s fun. But that’s a shallow answer; I know that and I’m fairly certain so does he. Admittedly, his response to my pestering had first marked him as the perfect plaything, but I can’t actually write him down as just a toy—not anymore. Still, I’m not entirely sure what it is that draws my wandering feet back to him. I suppose, if I were being honest with myself, I want to see the person he is when he doesn’t know I’m watching: someone bright in spite of his darkness. I’ve seen his sincerity and perseverance and those are things to be admired, even if we are on opposing sides. Even if I can’t name them all, there are reasons I keep coming back.

Fuck.

In lieu of this enlightenment, I find my gaze hitched on his mouth. Sparks flicker in my chest, but I grin nonetheless.

“Because it’s fun. Don’t you enjoy our little run ins?”

The instant protest dies on his tongue. “I…I don’t know.”

That’s not the answer I was expecting, but it spurs the hope growing in me. I decide to start pushing some boundaries. With his guard against me nearly gone, it doesn’t take much to push him up against a rogue stone.

“That’s not a no,” I say, my eagerness creeping into my voice.

A blush tints his face. Despite my forwardness, Riku seems more mesmerized than appalled.

“No…it’s not.”

My excitement is getting away from me, compelling me to lean closer. “Between the two of us, I believe you’re the peculiar one here.”

For the first time, he cracks a smile, albeit, something wry. “I’m starting to think so too.”

“Are you aware of how easy it would be for me to dispose of you in this instant?”

“I am.” I see the anticipation in the way in his mouth writhes.

A smirk plays at the corner of my lips. “And you still trust me?”

My advance halts, his shuddering breath ghosting across my lips. I’ve been at the steering wheel of this rollercoaster relationship, doing whatever pleased me in the heat of the moment; but I won’t take this. No, this is far too important to be stolen on a whim. I need to hear him say it, no matter how my heart flutters.

“Yes.”

Relief bleeds into my soul, but at the same time, the madness I’d barely been able to contain ignites. The dread that spreads across his face at my resultant expression is absolutely precious.

“What a shame.”

I plunge headlong into my avarice, drowning Riku with me.

With each kiss, part of me assumes the novelty will weather away—that I’ll finally be content. What a fool I am. I crave more and more with no end in sight. No matter the pressure, the duration, the angle: I simply cannot get enough.

Riku is barely more than a passenger in this experience, struggling to keep up as I string him along. Of course, what participation he can sneak into my barrage serves as encouragement. When he finally falters though—breaking the kiss to gasp for air—I retaliate. My hand pulls at the silver hair and his lips curl back in a grimace, but he gives me what I want: access to his neck. The moment my lips graze his skin, his body goes rigid. As I trace the muscle with my tongue, I finally seem to be making ground on this greed when I hear his breath stagger. A new wave of eagerness crashes down on me as I take hold just above his shoulder.

Sufficiently satisfied with the mark left behind, I survey my victim. His brows stitch together but do nothing against the pink tint painted across his cheeks. Even his eyes burn with a hunger I assume matches what I feel.

I let my hands trail from his hair to cup his face.

“My, aren’t you just beautiful,” I whisper.

That shade deepens and, without hesitation, Riku places a hand behind my head to begin another round. This time, he attempts to lead, but my gluttonous response brings him down to my level in a back-and-forth of action and reaction. It’s not quite the vindication of having him a floundering mess beneath me, but I admit, I like the bite he tries to fight back with.

Suddenly, fingers ensnare my hair, ripping me away from the object of my desire. I can hear him shouting as I’m being led away in pain. When released, I just have time to see the dark portal disappearing, leaving me in the wastelands of the Keyblade Graveyard. I whirl on my attacker with a homicide on my mind.

I am royally screwed.

Golden eyes burn with the fury barely contained on the rest of his face. I could’ve lied through my teeth to just about anyone, maybe even the old man himself, but the one person I came here with is the one person who could tear the truth from me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Just like his expression, anger smolders beneath his words.

The question is rhetorical; he already knows the answer. Still, I have to say something.

“What? Didn’t you want him on our side?”

Xehanort slights his eyes at me. “Are you bringing him to the darkness? Or is he taking you to the light?”

“Excuse me?!”

“I trust you. You could damn near kill half our members and I would have your back.” His rein on his composure is slipping. “But this! How could you choose him over us?!”

“How fucking dare you!”

“HOW CAN I NOT WHEN I FIND YOU MAKING OUT WITH THE ENEMY?!”

He has a point, but I can’t admit that. “Please. You of all people know how little a kiss can mean.”

“So then what did it mean to you?”

Glaring straight into his eyes, voice low and steady, I answer him. “It meant nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Of all our friends, Xehanort could be the most observant and calculated. He probably saw ages ago what it took me until today to realize. I never had a chance against him.

“You came here with me to save them.” His bristling smooths out and Xehanort releases all the emotion riled inside. With cold ruthlessness, he looks me dead in eye. “And if I have to, I’ll save you too.”

I can’t fight him, and I can’t lie to him; I’m just…

Fucked.

“Xehanort…”

“I’ll keep your secret for now.” I won’t be able to get another word in—this conversation is over. “But if I find you with him again, there won’t be any more secrets to keep.”

Leaving me heartbroken and miserable, Xehanort disappears into a Dark Corridor. I don’t know who I was trying to kid. I told myself a million different things when meeting with Riku—it was just a game, I wanted to screw with him, I was bored—but I wanted to see him because I was interested in him.

Now I have a choice to make and there’s no one to blame but myself.

#riku #kh riku #riku x reader #gender neutral reader

36 notes · View notes

hurt-care · 3 years

Text

The Reunion - WW2 era fic

I've been listening to an audiobook about WWII in the UK and there's been multiple mentions of people writing in their diaries about suffering from lengthy colds as well as a discussion of the increase in casual sex during the war (especially during air raids, when it became a welcome distraction). So, let's just say I was inspired...!

Male, cold, OCs, contains 18+ content

The Reunion -

The club was positively bursting with young revellers and the sounds of a jazz band playing as couples moved across the dance floor in tight embraces, flitting in and out of shadow of the chandeliers sparkling overhead. Champagne flowed liberally, delivered by waiters in smart tuxedo jackets and white gloves. If a time-traveller had been magically transported inside, they would have no idea that outside the walls of the club there was a war on.

Making her way through the throngs of people was Katherine Marsh, or Kat to her close friends. Close at her heels was Mary Alderman, an old school chum who'd come up through London society with her. The girls wove through the dancers on route to a table up on the balcony that circled the dance floor, providing a spectacular view of the room below. Only the uppers of society generally occupied the tables here and the demand was such that often bribes had to be given to the head waiter to ensure a spot. Peter Halford, one of Kat's other longtime friends, had been in charge of the evening's transaction and now he waved cheerily from a spot in the corner as the girls approached.

“Hello, Peter!” Kat said joyfully as she sided into a chair along the wall, tucking the skirt of her silk gown around her. “Have you ordered a bottle yet or shall I do the honours?”

“It's just coming now,” Peter replied, nodding towards the approaching waiter who carried a magnum size bottle in a silver ice bucket while another waiter followed behind deftly balancing a tray of champagne coupes.

“Your timing is impeccable as ever,” Mary said with a laugh. “I'm parched.”

She flashed a smile at Peter, her eyes sparkling in the light of the crystal scones along the walls. Kat smirked knowingly at her friend. Mary had been pursuing Peter over the course of several of these evenings out on the town, but Peter remained seemingly oblivious to her advances.

Tonight, Mary was draped in layers of royal blue silk with a spectacular diamond bracelet glinting on her wrist. She looked radiant and Kat thought Peter had to be completely daft to not notice. Kat, on the other hand, had no particular beau in mind. She'd danced with dozens of men and dined at parties across the countryside around London, but no one gentleman had captured her heart. Besides, she was barely twenty and so many of the young men her age were away at service. For now, she was content with dancing and snogging sessions in dim alleyway with soldiers on leave and officers posted to city stations.

The waiter poured them all glasses of champagne and the trio toasted to health, happiness, and the victory of Britain. The chat was light and merry, with Peter filling them in on his new job at the Royal Airforce's London offices near Whitehall. At the hour neared eleven, someone took to the microphone to introduce the next band complete with a line of cabaret dancers dressed in feathers and sequins for entertainment. Mary squealed in delight as the drums kicked up the beat of a popular dance tune and she reached for Peter's hand.

“Oh, will you dance?” she asked breathlessly. “I love this song.”

Peter downed the last of his champagne glass as he stood up.

“Of course. Kat, find yourself a man and let's go.”

The two disappeared into a sea of people moving towards stairs that led to the dance floor. Kat drained her own coupe and stood, surveying the crowded tables for familiar faces or handsome strangers.

A few girls were lingering at a table of Naval officers and as the men stood and paired off with them, one man remained seated alone with a cigarette in his hand. As the duos passed by, Kat realized with a heart-dropping thud that she recognized the lone officer that had stayed behind.

Oliver Hartnett had danced with her at her first debutant ball when she was seventeen and she'd been completely enraptured by him. Two pages of her diary were dedicated to extolling his virtues, from the gentle tambour of his voice to his green eyes, from to his broad shoulders to his chestnut hair. As quickly as he'd come into her life, he'd left it again. They'd shared two dances that night and some brief conversation at a dinner party a week later, and then she hadn't seen him since. Word in the upper circles said he'd gone to Scotland to work for an aging uncle's business and he disappeared from London's upper crust.

Kat dumped the dregs of the champagne bottle into her coupe and gulped it down, feeling the rush of bubbles to her head as she bolstered her courage. She reached into her small handbag for her compact, inspecting her face and reapplying a coat of her precious lipstick, as the bright red shade was now nearly impossible to find with the war rations and so she reserved it for nights out alone.

With a smile on her face that she hoped concealed her nerves, she glided as confidently as she could over to the table.

“Ollie Hartnett, is that you?” she said over the din of the music and the crowd. The man at the table seemed startled by the interruption and he looked up at her, his face vacant for a moment. Then, a grin spread across his face.

“Oh my goodness, Miss Marsh,” he said, standing suddenly and extending his hand.

She laughed.

“It's Kat, please,” she said, taking his broad hand in her and shaking it. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Of course, please do,” he said, fumbling to get around the vacant chairs nearby in order to pull out one for her. She folded herself gracefully into the seat, crossing her ankles as her mother had always instructed. For once, she was glad she'd listened to Mary's constant chatter about fashion and had worn the deep emerald green silk gown with the black trim that she'd purchased for the previous winter's New Year Eve celebration at Mary's family estate. It set off her figure nicely and contrasted with her auburn hair and milk-white complexion.

Oliver was shaking her head, still grinning.

“What a surprise,” he said, his gentle voice barely audible over the music. “You look well.”

She smiled back.

“I am! Well, as well as anyone is in London at war, I suppose. You've joined up, I see. On leave?”

“For a few more weeks,” he replied, taking a slow drag of his almost burnt-out cigarette. “I'm posted at Brighton, usually.”

“And you're not on the arms of a dozen girls dancing your night away?” she teased.

He snubbed out the cigarette in the ash tray and shook his head.

“Honestly, I wasn't keen on going out at all but the other gents insisted.”

“If I recall, you were quite popular on the dance floor,” she continued. “What's changed?”

“Just a bit under the weather, that's all,” he replied. “Haven't felt up to much dancing tonight, but I'll spare one for you, for old time's sake.”

She felt herself blush.

“Not yet,” she said. “I have to hear all about where you disappeared to that summer. You left a lot of us wondering why one of our dashing debs up and left London at the height of the season.”

“It's not a particularly exciting story, but if I'm going to tell it we ought to do it over a drink.”

He beckoned to a waiter who returned shortly with two cocktails on a black lacquered tray and a serving of peach melba for each of them.

Oliver detailed how the rumours were true; he'd left London for the banal task of running the business operations for his uncle's small factory in Glasgow. A year ago, as the ferocity of the war had begun to increase, he'd enlisted in Royal Navy and left the factory in the hands of the old foreman and his cousin, a savvy young woman named Rose.

More than once during the story he'd paused momentarily to clear his throat with a cough or take a sip of his cocktail to revive his waining voice. Kat felt a pang of sympathy now that she was close and could see clearly the weariness in his face. Though it was spring, the weather had been dreadful and frigid for weeks and many people she knew had been battling heavy colds.

She told him about her adventures in London with Mary and Peter, and about her volunteering posting with the Women's Auxiliary Service where she worked to find temporary housing for those displaced by air raids.

When they'd finished their peach melbas and cocktails, the band struck up a lively tune and Oliver appeared to summon some energy with a broad smile aimed at Kat.

“This is the one,” he said, extending a hand. “Would you like to dance?”

She nodded, trying not to let her rush of enthusiasm show too greatly.

He led her down to the dance floor and took her into his arms, leading the gentle sway as they danced among the other couples. His broad hand rested on the small of her back and Kat felt a rush of heat to her body as they touched, cheeks almost against one another. The gentle warmth of his breath tickled her neck and she was sure he was about to lean in to kiss her there.

His voice mumbled something deep and low into her ear but she couldn't discern it over the music.

“Mmm?” she replied.

“Oh Christ, sorry,” she heard him say and suddenly he was moving swiftly away from her, his one hand leaving her back and his other dropping its grip from hers.

Eh-TSGHT! He turned his face into the sleeve of his officer's uniform, sneezing inaudibly to her as the rest of the dance floor continued their rhythmic sway.

“So sorry,” he shouted, leaning back so she could hear him. He reached into his pants pocket for a handkerchief, which he dabbled briefly under his nose.

“Sorry,” he repeated as he took up his embrace once more.

“It's okay,” she said into his ear. “I hope you don't feel too poorly.”

“No,” he said into hers, his lips almost brushing against her. “Better now.”

She leaned herself closer against him and he pressed his lips to her neck. She sighed with delight, feeling all the rush of emotions that she'd had when they'd first danced. His body was more muscular and square now, without the lanky lines he'd had as an eighteen year old.

Tilting her head upwards, she met his lips and they kissed briefly.

He leaned over to speak into her ear again.

“I hope I'm not catching.”

“I don't care,” she said and captured his lips again. The kiss deepened and a couple nearby sided away to give them a moment of privacy.

The song ended and Katherine stayed in the embrace of Oliver's arms as the next began.

He looked down at her with a soft, tired expression.

“I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm afraid all this noise and such is too much for me tonight.”

“Can you stay up a little longer?” she asked. “There's a nice restaurant not too far from here. We could go and have a drink there and talk. It's much quieter.”

It was past midnight now and while Oliver looked like he might consider declining in favour of being tucked up in bed, he nodded and smiled.

She grinned back at him and kissed his cheek.

“I'm so glad. I'll find my friends to tell them I'm off. Meet me by the doors? Would you be a dear and get my coat for me?”

She fished the small coatcheck tag from her handbag.

After she'd shouted her goodbyes to Mary and Peter (who looked very cozy together on the dance floor, she noted with pleasure), she found Oliver leaning against a wall by the exit with her coat over his arm and his own Navy-issued wool peacoat already on. He held up her coat to help her into it and offered his arm to her, walking at her side out into the cool spring night.

The air was clear and crisp, with a half-moon overhead. The streets were brutally dark thanks to the blackout and they made their way clumsily along the road, squinting to see landmarks in the dim moonlight.

“It's down to the left, one more block,” she said as they passed the entrance to another dance club where the only light came from several cigarettes that glowed as young people poured in and out from the doors and slipped behind blackout curtains into the well-lit hall.

“Can we pause a moment,” Oliver asked. “Sorry, just a moment.”

She stopped, turning to look at him.

“Sorry,” he repeated, reaching for his handkerchief. She could see him silhouetted in the dim moonlight as his shoulders trembled and he shook his head for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he pitched forward with a wrenching sneeze.

Hurhhh-TSGHXTT!

Unable to mask the sound, he gave a brief but noisy blow into the handkerchief afterwards before hastily tucking it into his coat pocket.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, taking her arm up again. She gave him a light squeeze, leaning against his side as she did so.

“Don't apologize,” she said. “I'm only sorry to hear you so poorly. Blasted cold seems to be going around everywhere.”

“The boys in my unit said that if I can't spend a night out with a head cold, there's no way I'd last through a month at sea battling the Germans,” said Oliver, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat with a cough. “I suppose that's true.”

“Well, we'll find you something warm to drink at the restaurant and that should revive you,” Kat said cheerfully.

They were just rounding the last corner onto the street where the restaurant was located when a sound split the air. The wail of the air raid sirens began their raised pitch, increasing to a loud din of pulsing noise.

They paused in the street, stunned. It shouldn't have been entirely a surprise; the sirens were a regular occurrence in the city but neither one of them had encountered the alert while out on the street.

In the darkness, a voice shouted authoritatively.

“To your shelters, please! Nearest public shelter is the Piccadilly Circus station. To your shelters please!”

The figure of an air raid warden with a metal helmet on passed by.

“Which way is Piccadilly?” Oliver asked.

Kat glanced up and down the dark street.

“My rooms are only two or so more blocks past here,” she said. “If we hurry, we should be fine. There's a cellar in the back.”

Gripping his arm tightly, she led the way down the road. Several times they nearly collided with others making their way to safety. As they neared the house where she rented lodgings, the sky began to shine with searchlights and in the distance, the sound of anti-aircraft guns began to crackle. The bliss of dancing and the haze of champagne cleared from Kat's head as she steered them down an alley between some homes and to a metal hatch that covered the entrance to the cellar. She tugged it open and hovered a foot over the void, finding the top step.

“Six steps down. Pull the door shut behind you,” she said to Oliver. Her hand trailed along the earthen edge of the wall until it met the edge of a candlestick and a pack of matches. She struck one alight as Oliver shut the hatch with a loud bang.

The tiny chamber glowed in the candlelight, illuminating the stone and soil room. Oliver was breathing heavily, almost wheezing. Katherine tipped the lit candle to light others, gradually brightening the room enough to see without too much strain.

“Sit,” she insisted, gesturing to a small crate topped with a cushion. “Catch your breath. I'll put some tea on.”

Hhh-TSGHHH!

The sound of the sneeze startled her and she looked over in time to see Oliver building up to a second. He tipped forward, nose nestling into the folds of his waiting handkerchief.

Ehhh—hhehhTSXHHT! “Bless you!” she said earnestly. “Are you warm enough? There's plenty of blankets. My landlady, Mrs. Beecher, is up north visiting her sister and the other girl who rents rooms is at her family home for the week. So it's just you and me here unless we get some surprise guests from next door.”

“No, I'm fine,” he said quietly, wiping his nose. “Sorry.”

“I don't mind a bit of sniffling,” she said teasingly. “You don't need to keep apologizing.”

“Have you had to spend many nights down here?” he asked, surveying the cellar. It was appointed with provisions for the three woman who lived above plus extras for any visitors who might end up sheltering there. Two wooden bunks were stacked against one wall, each with pillows and blankets and thin mattresses. Another mattress was rolled and stored in a nearby trunk with additional linens. A small table held a kettle on a fuel-powered heater and several teacups. There was a deck of cards, a basket of knitting, and a lidded chamberpot. Someone had cheekily hung a framed piece of embroidery that read “Home Sweet Home.”

“Oh, I've lost count,” Kat said as she set the kettle to boil once she'd filled it with water from one of the three large canteens by the steps that led outside. “This is only the second time I've ended up down here in an evening gown, though.”

Once the kettle was heating, she opened a chest and took out a wool jumper and a pair of socks.

“Good thing I'm prepared,” she added.

Oliver watched as she sat on a wooden chair and unstrapped her high heel shoes and slid her hand up under her gown to unclip her precious nylon stockings. Careful not to snag them, she rolled them down her legs and pulled on the socks.

He laughed as she put the jumper on over her evening gown, put her coat back on top of that, and donned a pair of Wellington rubber boots. She struck a pose for him.

“You'd be the toast of all the fashion magazines,” he declared.

His chuckle turned to a cough that sounded strained and painful. She frowned at him and shook her head.

“I'd say you should've followed your own ideas and stayed home instead of the advice of your mates,” she said. “But I have to admit I've awfully glad I ran into you.”

He recovered from the coughing spell and looked at her with affection.

“I'm glad too,” he said. She poured the hot water from the kettle into a teapot to steep and selected two teacups.

Outside, the din of the air raid sirens had ended. There was the sound of distant explosions, but for the time being they were far from the action.

“I'm afraid I've no milk to offer but we have a bit of honey.”

“That'd be lovely, thanks,” he said.

She poured them each a cup and sat opposite him, savouring the warm tea. He drank his own cup, clearly soothed by the hot liquid. He dabbed at his nose a few times with his handkerchief as it began to run from the warmth.

When the cups were empty, they sat in silence for a moment. A bomb exploded somewhere a few blocks away and the candles flickered as the shockwave trembled through the earth. The remaining teacups on the table rattled against each other. Kat closed her eyes for a moment, sighing.

“Are you frightened?” Oliver asked.

“No, I don't think so,” she said. “I suppose I always am, a little. But not terribly.”

She set her teacup down on the table and moved to sit on the bottom bunk bed, patting the mattress beside her. He stood and moved to her side. The next thing she knew, they were kissing, his hands were in her hair and she had a hand on his chest. She kicked off the boots and pulled up her dress so she could sit astride his lap. He kissed down her neck and tugged her coat off, his hand going under her jumper and stroking her breasts through the silk of her gown.

She exhaled with pleasure, starting to slowly grind against his hips. She reached for the waistband of his trousers and he helped her with his belt. He made a soft moaning noise as she fumbled with the buttons at his fly and found her way downwards. His lips brushed her shoulder, pressing kisses where the neck of her jumper was stretched to the side. A brief cough escaped him, puffing against her skin. He muttered an apology and she murmured a sweet assurance as she began to stroke him.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly. He pulled her arms upwards and guided the jumper off over her head. She pushed his coat off him and made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, tugging that off too. He urgently shed his shoes and trousers as she stood and slipped off the silk gown revealing a satin bra and knickers with mother-of-pearl buttons.

He watched her hungrily as she slid out of the knickers and climbed back onto the mattress, guiding his pants off his hips. They kissed tenderly and she settled down on top of him, hips rising to meet hips. He made that same low moaning noise and she felt her body jolt with pleasure, hands roaming through his chestnut curls.

He made love to her urgently as the sound of bombs echoed outside. They moved together, breath increasing to gasps. His nose was running freely and he briefly sniffled and pressed it against his own shoulder to rub it. She kissed his neck and felt the expanse of his chest press against hers as he took a sharp breath. His body shuddered under her as he sneezed a restrained outburst, clearly trying to keep the explosion minimal.

Ngh-GHXT!

She moaned involuntarily as the spasm thrust him against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath. “Sorry.”

“Please,” she gasped. “Oliver!”

He sniffled thickly and then resumed with vigour until they both lay panting and shivering on the bed. He looked utterly exhausted but there was a smile on his lips. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“You sweet thing,” she whispered. “As if you weren't exhausted at the start of the evening.”

She slipped out of the bed with a blanket around her shoulders and found his shirt and socks and underthings on the ground.

“Best put at least your socks on before you drop off entirely,” she said tenderly, helping him dress before they both slipped under the quilts again.

She woke at some ungodly hour to the sound of nose-blowing and the roar of the 'all clear' siren. From feel, she could tell Ollie was sitting up in bed, straining to clear his nose with his sodden handkerchief. It was pitch black in the shelter and she had no idea how long they'd been asleep.

She managed to find the matches and lit a candle. Oliver sounded dreadfully congested and by the dim light of the single candle, she could see his nose was red and angry-looking at the edges.

“Oh, love,” she said, leaving the candle on the bedside table and climbing back under the quilts next to him. “How do you feel?”

He exhaled noisily.

“Rather poorly, I'm afraid,” he said hoarsely. “I hope for your sake it's not catching.”

She squinted at the wristwatch she kept wrapped on the bedpost. It was half-past four.

“It's still early but there's the all-clear. Do you want to get rugged up in my bed upstairs or stay here.”

He folded the handkerchief and tucked it at his side, snuggling back down beside her.

“That answers that,” she said, tucking his head against her breast. She stroked his hair and planted a kiss there. “Try to get some more rest, darling. I'll take good care of you.”

#dustyfic #snzfic

93 notes · View notes

after-avenging-hours · 4 years

Text

Virtue & Valor [1]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist

You and your husband have the perfect life. Jobs that you love, a happy marriage, an amazing sex life… You couldn’t ask for anything more. But when something unexpected shows up on your front doorstep that completely turns your world upside down, can your relationship survive the fallout? Or will you have to let your feelings go in favor of the greater good? Letting go of the past can be difficult, especially when the future looks so bleak, but maybe you can figure out how to move forward together. You may just make it out to see the other side.

Word Count: 4913

Warnings: this part contains smut at the end, 18+ content, mostly a lot of fluff

A/N: Val is getting used as a nickname for the Reader’s character. This will be explained a little later.

You wake up in the morning to the brush of lips against your shoulder. This is then followed by the feeling of a pair of strong arms tightening around your waist. “Good morning, Mrs. Rogers.”

You groan in protest, trying to bury your face into the pillow. “You’re lying, it’s not morning yet…”

His chuckle is deep, still filled with a hint of slumber. “I’m afraid it is.”

Blearily opening your eyes, it takes a second to adjust. The numbers on your alarm clock blur together into one green lump until you blink a few times, 6:05. “Wow, you let me sleep in a whole five minutes,” you comment, tilting your head to look back over your shoulder.

A pair of bright blue eyes shine back in amusement. “Well, I did keep you up late last night.”

A lazy smile tilts your lips upward. “Yes, you did. And on a school night, how dare you?”

“What can I say? My wife is irresistible,” he responds.

“What a coincidence. So is my husband.” You shift your body around to face him, leaning on your side as you reach up to pull his mouth down to yours. He moans against your mouth, one of his hands slipping underneath your tank top to slide up your back. Steve pulls you on top of him as he falls back against the pillows. Your hands roam across his bare chest as you straddle his waist. You can feel his half-hardened length brush against your core, separated by the thin material of your panties and his boxers. Grinding your hips down, Steve groans against your mouth.

His large hands grip your hips as he pulls out of the kiss. “We should stop. Or else we’ll be late. Not all of us have a free period first thing in the morning.”

You give him a coy look, running your tongue over your bottom lip, where you can still taste him. “You started it.”

He gives you a warning look. “You kissed me first.”

“I wouldn’t have if that mouth of yours didn’t look so delicious.”

Said lips twitch as he tries to fight off a smile. “Are you telling me that you only married me for my mouth?”

You release a laugh, smiling brightly, “That… among other things… Your butt is pretty high up there too.” You yelp in laughter when he suddenly flips you onto your back, taking a dominant position over you.

“I didn’t realize my wife was so superficial.”

Your arms loosely hook around his neck. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

He hums giving you another amused look. His head bends down and you tilt yours up expecting another kiss, however at the last second, he diverts and presses his lips to your cheek. “Nice try, sweetheart. But it’s time to get up.” He pulls your arms off and pushes himself up.

You groan in protest, rolling onto your stomach and burying your face into your pillow. “Do I have to?”

“Unless you want to drive yourself.”

Grumbling under your breath, you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Sinking your hips back, you drop your shoulders and extend your arms in a stretch. A strained moan slips passed your lips as you work the kinks out of your fatigued muscles.

“Val…” Steve calls in a warning tone again.

“Yeah?” you respond, moving back up onto your hands and knees and curling your back to stretch your spine.

“Knock it off.”

“Knock what off?” you ask innocently.

He sighs and shakes his head. “Never mind, I’m just gonna go start the coffee.”

You can’t stop the small giggle that slips out after he’s left the room. Pushing yourself off the bed, you stretch your arms up and arch your back once more, before following Steve out and into the kitchen. He’s already standing at the coffee maker, scooping the grains into the top. You step up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso and place a soft kiss in between his shoulder blades.

“Is it possible to fall asleep standing up?” you ask, resting your cheek on his back and close your eyes.

He chuckles, twisting around to throw his arm over your shoulders and brings your body over to his front. He places a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’m sure you could figure it out. Which is why I can’t let you.” His hands fall to your hips, so he can lift you up and onto the counter. He settles himself between your legs, looking at you with a hooded gaze. “Have I told you how much I love you this morning?”

You hum, running your hands up his arms to loosely wrap around his neck. “No, not yet.”

He bends his head down, brushing his nose slightly against yours. His mouth tilts in a crooked smile. “Well, I love you.”

You smile back, tilting your face up to his. “Oh yeah, how much?”

His lips brush ever so slightly against yours. “I’m thinking that I should probably just show you.” He slants his mouth over yours, pulling you into a kiss. Your arms tighten around his neck, arching your body up into his. You moan into the kiss, hands running through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“What happened to not being late?” you mumble against his mouth.

You can feel his lips stretch into a smile. “Coffee’s brewing, we can afford a few minutes of distraction.”

You hum, “We could do a lot in a few minutes.”

He nips playfully at your lower lip. “We could... But you know how much I enjoy giving it to you long and slow.”

You release a small whimper, your knees squeezing his waist. “Mr. Rogers, that’s not how you should be speaking to your wife if you don’t intend to follow through.”

He chuckles, pulling back to look down at you. “If she’s patient enough to wait until after school, then I will follow through.”

You glare up at him, clearly unimpressed. “You don’t put a glass of water in front of a dying man and then tell him to wait 8 hours.”

He chuckles, “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not a dying man, then.” He pushes away from the counter, moving to the cupboards to pull down two mugs.

You jump off the counter trying to push the ache between your thighs out of your mind. “I didn’t realize how big of a tease you were when I married you.”

He grins crookedly. “Too late now.”

“What goes around comes around, Rogers,” you threaten mildly, warning that all this teasing is going to bite him in the ass later.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he chuckles.

He gets your coffees ready while you whip up a quick breakfast for the two of you to share. With a mug and a plate each set out on the kitchen table, you and Steve take your seats and start digging in. “What are you teaching today?” you ask in between bites of food.

“We’re starting a new segment in the advanced class. Creating optical illusions.”

You pause, thinking about what exactly goes into teaching a subject like that, let alone actually making the art piece. “That sounds… hard.”

Steve laughs. “That’s why it’s the advanced class. What about you?”

“We started Intro to Mixed Martial Arts at the beginning of the week.”

Steve gives you a questioning glance, “Mixed Martial Arts? In High School PE?”

You grin openly, gazing back at him. “Remember that survey I gave the kids at the beginning of the year? The one that asked them to tell me what subjects they wanted to cover. A good percentage actually picked MMA as their top 3. And thank God we actually work in a district that gives us funding. I think this is the most successful year we’ve ever had in PE. The kids are actually engaged for once.”

“It’s pretty incredible what kinds of things you can accomplish when the kids are willing to pay attention,” Steve agrees.

“You certainly don’t have any issues with that,” you grin cheekily before taking a sip of your coffee. “Those horny teenagers can’t take their eyes off of you, Mr. Red-Hot Rogers.”

Steve laughs loudly as you say the nickname that’s been circulating around the school halls for longer than you can remember. “It’s not just me they look at. My wife is sexy as hell.”

You hum curiously, “Is she now? You’ll have to introduce me.”

He grins and shakes his head. “I have a feeling you’ll like her.”

The two of you finish up your breakfast and coffee before heading back into the bedroom to get ready for your day. Steve pinches your ass when he moves passed you to get to the bathroom as you stop in front of your dresser. You yelp and swat his ass in retaliation. He laughs, sending you a cheeky grin over his shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.

You change into a set of yoga pants, a sports bra, and a loose t-shirt. When Steve emerges from the bathroom, with a fresh face and minty teeth, you switch spots so you can wash your own face and brush your teeth while he gets changed. As you step back out of the bathroom, you pause and lean against the open doorway, staring shamelessly at the man you get to call your husband.

A pair of black jeans fit snuggly to his thick thighs and perky ass. A white, linen, button-up shirt stretches across his broad shoulders. The shirt is tucked neatly into the top of his jeans, with the collar tucked and the top button left undone to reveal the hollow of his throat. He’s looking down, with a concentrated look on his face as the rolls up the sleeves on either side.

Sometimes, in quiet moments like this, you get a strange feeling that this can’t possibly be real. That he can’t be real, let alone that he’s even yours. Steve Rogers is the perfect man. He’s sweet, attentive, attractive, and a God in bed. He makes you feel loved, cherished, and alive. As he lifts his head and catches your gaze, the small tilt of his lips have you falling even deeper into this dream-like existence.

“You keep staring at me like that and we’re going to be late,” he chuckles.

Smiling back, you step forward into his open arms, hooking yours up around his neck while his hands settle around your waist. “Would that be so bad?” you ask.

He brings his lips down to place a sweet kiss on your forehead, knowing full well that’s not what you want out of him. “Yes,” he responds simply before releasing your waist and reaching up to unwind your arms from around his neck. He laughs at your pout, “Come on. The sooner we get to school, the sooner we get to the end of the day. Then you can have me in any way you want.”

You roll your eyes and huff, but comply and follow him obediently out of the bedroom. He grabs the car keys, his wallet, and his phone from the bowl on the kitchen counter. You then grab your keys for the school locker rooms, the gym, and the equipment building, which are attached to a lanyard. You place the lanyard around your neck, then grab your phone and wallet next before following Steve out the door in the kitchen that leads to the garage.

Steve lets you pick the radio station, but the drive isn’t very long before he’s pulling into the faculty parking lot. The two of you walk hand in hand into the school, stopping first at the faculty lounge. Several of your coworkers already fill the room, many giving a wave or word of greeting upon your arrival. You and Steve split off into different directions as he moves to talk with one of the other art teachers and you head for the coffee table.

Fighting off a yawn, you pour out your second cup for the day, knowing that you’re going to need the extra caffeine to make it through the morning. Not only did Steve keep you up late the night before, but you’d also woken up several times due to some strange dreams. Dreams you couldn’t seem to recall once morning hit.

“Damn you, Val. Damn you to the deepest parts of hell.” A familiar voice has you lifting your head from where you’re trying to pour out some creamer into your coffee cup.

It’s Deborah, one of the biology teachers. You look at your friend incredulously. “What did I do?”

“You walk into the teacher’s lounge, with your gorgeous husband, looking like you’ve been plowed into half of the night.” She glares light-heartedly, her gaze sweeping over your form.

You can’t help but release a girlish giggle, attempting to hide it behind your coffee cup as you lift it up to your face. “Well, you’re not wrong…”

“Jesus! You guys have been married for how long? And yet you still go at it like you’re in your honeymoon phase! How is that fair?” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning a hip against the table.

You shrug. “What can I say, the sex is amazing.”

“Yeah, still not fair… When are you going to learn to share?” she gives you a pointed look.

“Not anytime soon, that’s for sure,” you laugh.

“Killjoy.”

You both stare at Steve from across the room. He’s in a conversation with Don Matthews at this point, one of the English teachers. Feeling the burn of your gaze, he looks over, locking eyes with you. You see the corner of his mouth curl upward before he sends you a wink.

“Good God, I want to sit on his face.” Your friend sighs. “Do you ever sit on his face?” she asks you.

“Deborah!” you laugh, slapping her shoulder.

“What? You could at least give me details. I’m living vicariously through you.”

“What happens between me and my husband in the bedroom stays between me and my husband,” you respond cryptically.

“So, that’s a yes,” she confirms. You notice her gaze drifting up to something over your shoulder.

Moments later, you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist. “What are you two lovely ladies giggling about over here?” Steve asks.

“We’re not giggling,” you respond right as Deb speaks.

“Oh, I was just asking Val how often she gets to sit on your gorgeous face,” she comments nonchalantly.

“Deb!” you hiss in warning.

Steve’s hand tightens on your hip as he chuckles. “I don’t know, maybe about twice a week? If we had it my way, she’d be there every day, but Val likes to keep things mixed up.”

“Steve!” you look up at him, appalled.

He grins cheekily at you, bending down to place a quick kiss on your lips. “I’m gonna head to my room to get ready for class.”

“Later, Deb,” he smiles politely at your friend.

“Bye…” she responds in a small squeak, watching him walk away. “God, if I could murder you and take over your life, I would in a heartbeat.”

“Gee, thanks,” you comment dryly. “I’m going to head to the gym to prepare for second period.” You take your coffee with you and walk out of the lounge. You wave hello and smile at the few students that are already on campus. Some you’ll see in class later and other’s you’ve had in previous years.

The day goes by fairly quickly. It helps that most of the kids are still excited about this new unit, although many of the boys groan in protest when you tell them you won’t be teaching any advanced takedowns today. “We’re concentrating on defensive maneuvers mostly. If I hear about any of you trying to pick fights in the schoolyard, using the moves I’ve taught you… not only will you have to answer to me, but you will be stuck running laps every day, all period long, until the end of the school year. Do I make myself clear?” you give the same spiel each period, and it’s luckily well received.

Before you know it, the watch on your wrist is buzzing in warning for ten minutes until the last bell rings. You dismiss your last period for the day, allowing them to head off to the locker rooms to change out of their PE uniforms. You clean up the gym a little to make less work for the janitorial staff and to kill a little time while the students are changing before locking up the empty locker rooms.

You walk down the halls of the school, heading for the art wing and then step into Steve’s room. You love Steve’s classroom. It’s vibrant and colorful. Every single possible inch of space is being used to display his student’s work. The joy and creativity seem to surround you like a warm blanket.

You find him sitting behind his desk, dexterous fingers clicking away at the keyboard to his computer. His gaze flicks up above the monitor as you approach and he smiles when he sees it’s you. “Give me just a minute, Sweetheart,” he tells you before turning back to the screen.

You nod in understanding and take a walk around his room, looking over the dozens of pieces of art. No matter how many times you look at them all, you never grow bored. In fact, it always seems like you’re able to find something new every day.

As promised, it doesn’t take him very long to finish up before he’s turning off his computer and stepping up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back against his chest.

“How was your day?” he asks, placing a kiss to your temple.

You sigh happily, falling into his embrace. “It was good, but I’m ready to go home.”

“Me, too,” he agrees. Taking your hand, he leads you out of the room, turning off the lights then he closes and locks the door. His palm is warm against yours, his touch sending tingles of awareness through your entire body. You have to separate once you get to the car, however, after he’s pulled into the garage and you’ve both stepped back out, he waits for you with his hand outstretched as you make your way around the vehicle. With fingers intertwined once again, he leads you through the door into the kitchen. You both deposit your cell phones, keys, and wallets back into the bowl on the counter and then head for the bedroom. You pull off your sports bra, tossing it into the laundry hamper and then bend down to remove your shoes and socks next. You leave the bedroom, barefoot, as you make your way back to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Steve changes out of his work clothes into a more comfortable t-shirt and basketball shorts combo before he joins you in the kitchen.

The two of you work in sync to get the food prepared, already having decided on what you were going to eat during the drive home. “Do you wanna watch a movie tonight?” Steve asks as he doles the food out evenly on the two plates.

“Sure. Whose turn to pick?” you ask, pouring out a glass of wine for you and grabbing a beer from the fridge for him.

“Yours,” Steve confirms, taking one plate in each hand before moving to the living room and setting the plates down on the coffee table.

You follow him and take your spot on the couch and set down your drinks. Grabbing the TV remote, you pull up Netflix and start to search through the various options. Steve had a tendency of picking historical documentaries or military based movies. You however had a pension for spy thrillers and action movies. You end up settling on a film that seems to touch Steve’s military interests along with your need for some blood-pumping action. As the movie buffers, you curl in close to your husband, pulling your dinner plate into your lap.

The two of you are fairly invested in the film, occasionally making a comment or some sort of reaction as the events play out. As soon as he’s cleaned off his plate, Steve sets it back down on the coffee table and stretches his arm over the back of the couch and across your shoulders to tuck your body in a little closer to his chest. You welcome the warmth that he provides, settling against him like a puzzle piece locking into place.

By the time the credits for the movie are rolling on the screen, your body is completely relaxed and pliant against his. “That one was pretty good,” Steve remarks, his thumb swiping across your shoulder absentmindedly.

You make a sound of agreement. “Mhm… Still don’t understand how they managed to walk away from that plane crash, though. No one could have survived that.”

He chuckles, “That’s why it’s a movie.”

You release a low hum and give a noncommittal shrug.

“So… dishes before or after?” Steve asks, his voice dropping with a suggestive lilt.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “What?” you ask, lifting your head off his chest to meet his gaze. Your breath hitches when you see the heated look in his eyes.

“I still owe you long and slow.”

That’s all the reminder you need to get on the same page as him. The flame deep in your belly ignites in an instant and you feel a clench between your legs. Pushing yourself up, you turn and throw a leg over his lap, pinning his hips between your knees. “Dishes after,” you respond before crashing your lips against his. You hold his cheeks between your hands, feeling the beginnings of his stubble tickling your palms. You deepen the kiss, your tongue sliding out to slip between his parted lips.

The hum of pleasure that you pull out of him resonates through your entire body. His hands slide from your waist down to your ass, gripping the flesh eagerly and rocking your hips forward. His basketball shorts do nothing to conceal his arousal as you grind down on him. The wet patch in your panties only grows until you’re sure it’s starting to seep through your yoga pants.

Steve’s hands slide up your back, slipping beneath the hem of your tank top. His fingers travel up the dip of your spine and come to a stop over your shoulder blades. Taking the hint, you pull out of the kiss and lift your arms, allowing him to pull off the bunched-up material and toss it to the floor. His t-shirt is the next to go and then he’s pulling you back in.

Your breasts are crushed against the hard plains of his chest as he holds you close. His cock begins to leak into the wet patch on the front of his shorts where you rub up on him like a cat in heat. He’s certain that if he lets you continue, that dribble of pre-cum will quickly turn into a full-blown climax, so he gathers his resolve and pushes your hips back.

The needy whimper that slips out of you is almost enough to break his resistance. His jaw clenches as he fights the urge to rut up into you like an animal until he creams his shorts. He knows that would probably excite the hell out of you, but he’d made a promise and he intended to keep it. Long and slow. He chants those words like a mantra in his head.

“Up,” he encourages, pushing against your hips until you’re sliding off his lap and standing on shaky legs before him. He sits up, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your belly before he releases you and turns to flip the back cushions up and over the top of the couch to make more room. They fall to the floor with a dull thud. “Strip,” he orders next as he moves to lay back across the length of the couch, his head supported by one of the decorative pillows. You are more than happy to comply, slipping your thumbs into the waistband of your pants and undies to push them down your legs. “Now get up here.” He reaches out for you, gripping one of your thighs to drag your leg across his body and settles your knee just above his shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you sitting on my face since Deb brought it up this morning.”

You manage to catch the briefest glimpse of his cheeky smile before his hands on your hips are pulling you down against him. You moan helplessly as his tongue glides over your slick folds. It’s enough to make your body shiver deliciously. He laves across your wet center with long, bold strokes. Like a predator feasting on his prey, he consumes you.

Sweeping his tongue up to the top of your folds, he circles his lips around your clit and sucks hard. Your back arches as you reach forward to grip the armrest of the couch. You try to not let your weight fall onto him all at once when all you desperately want to do is grind down shamelessly on his tongue. It’s an exquisite torture. Even though you’re the one on top, you’re completely at his mercy.

He transitions flawlessly between the long strokes over your dripping slit and the concentrated laps against your sensitive clit. He knows just what your body needs to get you into that euphoric state where all your worries and fears disappear, leaving nothing behind except pure, unfiltered pleasure. Steve knows your body just about as well as he knows his own. It’s like you’re an extension of himself, instead of a whole other person. He can feel your pleasure and he shares your pain. When your bodies join together it’s like fusing two souls into one. It’s more than just a husband loving his wife. It’s intimate and surreal and cataclysmic.

He knows that you’re close, but his own body is so tightly in tune with yours that he can read the signs of his own impending orgasm all because you’re so close to yours. He rips his mouth from your wet center with a gasping breath. “I need to be inside you,” his voice is so low, it nearly comes out as a growl.

He helps you shuffle back, so you’re no longer up on his shoulders. You lean against the back of the couch to make room for him to shift onto his side. It’s moments like these where the flexibility that comes with the territory of your job and his naturally unnatural strength comes in handy. The two of you move in unison like it’s a coordinated dance until your positions are switched and it’s now your back against the couch cushions while he hovers over you.

The decorative pillow has been pushed to the floor, but you don’t need it as you spread your thighs to make room for Steve’s hips between them. Your hands glide down his back until you’re pushing his shorts down the curve of his ass. He smiles in amusement at the promiscuous squeeze to his behind as he kicks the shorts the rest of the way off. His hips drop until he feels your hot slick against the sensitive tip of his cock. He drags his full length across your folds, still fighting that sensual temptation to take you hard and fast.

He studies your face as a distraction. You look back at him with lust-glazed eyes. They’re hungry and carnal but still manage to have a soft edge of tender affection. He loves looking into your eyes while he makes love to you. It’s like he can see an entire world hidden beneath their depths.

He feels the urgent squeeze of your hands where they’re still firmly planted on his ass. He huffs out a gentle laugh before allowing himself to sink into you. Your lips part into a gloriously wicked moan as he fills you up with every possible inch he has. Steve often finds himself wishing that he could paint sounds because every little sound that comes out of you is a piece of art in and of itself.

He pulls out about halfway before slowly easing back in. He wants to build you back up piece by piece. He wants to savor this like you’re his last meal on Earth. There are times that call for a frantic and rushed coupling, but this isn’t one of them. It’s agonizing and tantalizing, the way he can feel your walls pulse and caress every single nerve ending inside his cock.

He can feel you everywhere. Not just physically, but also mentally and emotionally. The love that you share for each other flows all around you like the air you breathe. It connects you and fills you up until you’re overflowing. “Steve…” his name slips out of you just above a whisper.

The smile he gives you is so warm and tender; you feel like you’re basking in the sun. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he gives you the assurance, letting you know that you’re free to let go. That he’ll be there to catch you.

He’ll always be there.

Part 2

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #art teacher!steve x reader #steve rogers x wife!reader #sam writes

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arabellaaldous · 3 years

Text

Shingeko no Crystal 18+

Levi Ackerman x OC

A newly promoted addition to the Survey Corps has everyone wondering why Eren and Mikasa never mentioned their older cousin.

Major Celine Avery has broken the solo kill record within the walls, and transfers from the MP's to the Corps, taking Levi's promotion. Not only is the Captain quite angry, he is beside himself with wonder. How could this tiny, quiet and composed woman be the rage filled Titan killer he'd heard so much about? How can she be the one to help Eren destroy the Titans, and not himself? He may soon come to find out.

Chapter Two: Transfer

The feel of wood the underneath my fingertips was course and grainy. A film laid itself over my tongue, cotton swirling around my mouth. I couldn't have been more nervous.

I was on the stand at a full Military Tribunal. Centre stage for the whole of the walls to see. I was giving witness to a trial.

Premier Zachary's eye bored straight into my soul, causing me to gulp down a dry swallow. I knew why I was here. My little cousin had turned into a Titan, and they thought I'd known about it.

"Captain Avery," the premier started, "You have been asked here today to give council on the outcome of your kin's life. Do you submit to being questioned by this panel?"

I looked across the line of men that had gathered before me. Each of the regiment leaders of our military stood facing me, ready to give me a good dressing down.

"I submit," I answered, nodding my head.

"Then I shall go first," Zachary straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and looked down at his stack of papers.

"When did you first meet Eren Jeager?" he asked.

My mouth took over for me, willingly giving the answer.

"I've known him his whole life," I stated, "I helped my mother deliver him when my aunt Carla gave birth."

Zachary furthered on.

"And you raised him after the fall of wall Maria?"

"Yes, sir."

"In any of that time, did he ever mention his abilities, or seem to know about them at all?"

"No, sir."

The premier looked to his papers once more, staring at me once more when he was finished.

"You have an outstanding military record, Captain, quite impressive. Have you ever used your position in the Military Police to further your cousins training?" he questioned.

I sighed. "Sir, I wasn't aware that he had even joined up until General Pixis was informing me of our plan to use him to seal wall Rose."

"But you had correspondence," Nile Dok interrupted from below the Premier stand, "You exchanged letters weekly for the three years you've been with us!"

"Yes, Sir," I stated pointedly at him, " In which time Eren Jeager had lied to me, telling me that he still resided in my previous residence, which I had been sending him money to rent on my behalf."

I snapped my head back around to Eren whom sat shackled against a post. I was furious with him. The terrified look in his eyes when I looked at him told me he knew it as well.

"We've combed through all of Yeager and Captain Avery's letter's, sir, there is no evidence to persuade us that she knew anything otherwise," Pixis spoke up, silencing Nile.

A scorned look washed over Dok's face, and he crossed his arms, going silent once again.

"Commander Erwin, you've been awfully quiet, would you care to join us?" Zachary asked the tall blonde ahead of me.

Erwin's jaw tightened as he peered straight into my eyes. I could feel him searching my face for any inconsistency, any false tell to crack my story. Yet I knew he wouldn't find any.

"Captain, you were found last week, covered in your comrade's blood, standing atop a pile of five titans. How did you escape death when all of your troops could not?" Erwin asked.

My heart sunk to my stomach, and my mind went numb. All I could do was stand there silently, reliving the horror we had gone through.

"I-I don't remember, Commander," I offered meekly, " In all honesty sir, I remember hitting my head quite heard on the bell tower, and blacking out. I had woken up only minutes before i was found. I only know that I watched my squad die at the hands of wretched beasts, and I wish I could've gotten to them before they did."

I only stared forward at the floor as I said my piece, giving all of the evidence that I knew. But soon after a moment of silence, Erwin spoke again, and I was launched back to reality from my state of half conscious thought.

"Thank you, Captain. That is all."

"If there are no further questions, we will move on to the next item pertaining to Captain Avery," Zachary said.

With nothing but quiet coming from the room he cleared his throat and moved on.

"Captain, although you have moved quite quickly within the ranks of the military police, it has come to the government's attention that you are coveted as a soldier by more than one of our regiments now. This panel has decided it best that you be placed under either the Garrison or Scout regiments. Following no major objections from yourself, of course."

I heard a gasp go throughout the room, a quiet uproar coming from the stands, and a few of the officers in the gallery.

"Order," Zachary pounded his open palm against his desk. "Captain Avery?"

I was without a doubt shocked beyond belief, but as I was faced with the question, I looked around the justice hall.

To my left, Armin and Mikasa held terrified gazes as they watched my every move. Behind me, Eren shook his head in protest, knowing what I was about to do. I turned back to the panel and gave my answer.

"I have no objections," I offered simply.

With a sigh, Zachary swept a hand over General Pixis and Commander Erwin, both of which had stepped forward, presenting me with a formal read out of the positions they were to offer me.

"You will be presented with an offer from each regiment, and be given the opportunity to choose which you will join."

I nodded, Looking to General Pixis as he cleared his throat.

"Captain Avery," he started, "In these trying times, we need soldiers like yourself to defend humanity with all they have. I believe that a soldier will not fight if not to gain something for themselves. Most soldiers take the chance to live another day as enough incentive. Though I see you as the type of person who needs incentivized in other ways."

The general began to pace in front of my table, making me wonder how detailed his proposal would be.

"You would be housed in the interior, given captain's quarters in his majesty's royal guard. Your salary would increase to double what it is now, and your adoptive children would also be given housing in their unit of choice."

His offer was grande, even for a captain such as myself, yet his offer was short and sweet. The room fell silent as he retreated to the side of the remaining commander. It was Erwin's turn.

His stature was all the more intimidating as he came to place himself before me, far too close to the table for my comfort. I nearly had to crane my neck in order to meet his gaze. I shuddered.

"Captain," Erwin gave me a courteous nod, one I returned, before continuing.

"I have taken the liberty of looking into your your training scores, seeing that you graduated number one in your regiment. You are a very skilled soldier. This puts you in high demand according my opposing commander," Erwin began to pace as he spoke, lending an over the shoulder glance at Pixis before he continued on.

" I would like to lie to you and tell you that I could offer you a safe place to live and a certainty that you will be alive, but we both know that that would not be true." I gulped down a lump in my throat an nodded as he continued.

"I am not the only member of the scouting legion that wants you for our team, but I am the one that desires your presence the most. If there's one thing I can guarantee you, it's the fact that you will be a very valued member of our team. You would have a private office and sleeping quarters in the legion's headquarters, the option of any scouts you see fit to create your own squad, and a promotion to Major," a gasp went throughout the stands as he said the words, whispers following close at hand.

"What about captain Levi?"

"Isn't he next in line?"

"He's gonna be pissed."

Clearing his throat, Erwin closed his statement.

"Even with all these glittering advancements to your title, I cannot ensure your happiness. The probability of your death is a high one. Just know that when you consider your options."

My mind was buzzing with background chatter as Erwin receded to his earlier stance. Though he was now farther from me, I still felt the commanding aura that radiated from him as he gave his speech.

Join the garrison, and I would be able to make sure Armin and Mikasa were safe, looked after and cared for. I could force them to stay away from the scouts. Though I knew that Pixis wouldn't be granted leave of Eren. He would be sent with Erwin.

Join the scouts, and I end up launching myself full force into Erwin's dastardly plans beyond the wall, actually having the responsibility of helping him plan them. No more glorified baby sitter job for me, investigating behind closed doors and being a spy. I would be a soldier. A proper, blood drenched, battle proven soldier.

The heavy thuds of the premiers palm against the table echoed through my brain as the hissing from the stands grew louder before coming to a stand still. This whole trial was a blur.

"Captain, if you wish, you will be allowed time to-"

"No," I interrupted Zachary lowly. "No, sir, I don't need time to decide."

"Then state your intent, Captain Avery. Which Branch of our military will you be joining?" He asked in return.

I looked back to Eren once more, seeing his wife green eyes plead with me. He spoke no words, only breathed heavily as we exchanged that knowing eye.

My eyes caught on Armin's before I could look back to the panel. At first he shared Eren's look, practically begging me not to choose what he'd known I already had. When his face changed, it had become stoic and strong, a nod once more coming from him, letting me know his intent.

With a quiet salute that said, "I will follow you to the edge of the world," he gave me the courage to look back to the premier.

"I will join the Survey Corps."

#aot x reader #aot x oc #levi ackerman imagines #levi ackerman smut #levi smut #levi x you #eren #aot fanfiction #aot smut #aot headcannons #shingeki no kyojin #snk smut #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #eren jeager

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commanderserwin · 4 years

Note

I know ur requests are closed, but I’ve been thinking about this for ages!! Can you write a angst/fluff fic where Levi and reader are good friends, but reader has a shitty bf and reader confides in Levi often about it and Levi can’t help but feel like he can be a better bf and crushes on her. Then when reader leaves her bf, Levi overhears a cadet asking reader why she broke it off and she says it’s bc she fell for someone else, and Levi misunderstands and gets jealous but they end up together!!

here it is & i hope you like it!!! thank you for this ♥️ i’m sorry too if this took a while! ty again! mwa!!

⤅ thousands; levi ackerman

friendships worked mysteriously its way towards people’s lives that it often makes you wonder how you ended up being friends with him for so long. perhaps it started from him buying some things from the shop, making small talk, and all that but it bloomed into something deeper than the usual customer chat. then it ended up like a cycle that the usual conversations ended up in your apartment, or over the walk home, or whenever you would visit him in their base. even the scouts are already used to you visiting, but still fazed at how easily you could enter his office room without so much of a care.

levi already knew that it was you who visited because of the grinning faces of the soldiers as they chatter away, holding a familiar snack that he once watched you bake while he stayed over just because he wanted to. he walked around the base, surveying them train, while you stand by the shade, looking at them with a wide smile whenever they would greet you.

at most times, he’d knew already that it was you opening his office door, carrying a tray of tea for the chilly night. your nightly visits weren’t favorites because that’s when he knew you’d be a little teary-eyed— watching you flop down on his chair as the words became a haze on the paper. he tried to ignore the small sniffles and wiping of tears whenever you would visit him. he has tried to look away, but he knows it too well.

he just doesn’t know how to approach you on it.

it was always wes this, wes that— that levi has started to get used to it, but never to your tears.

“something the matter?” levi asked, piercing his eyes through you, watching you fiddle with your fingers.

“it’s nothing,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes as you tried to smile. “don’t worry about it.”

“you’re crying over it. it’s not nothing.”

you sighed, not wanting to burden him anymore with your problems. they were something you could handle on your own, you just couldn’t help but tear up. levi didn’t push as he resumed on his work, waiting for you to continue. you knew he wasn’t reading those papers well because you knew he was waiting for you to speak up. it was the subtle things you have picked up, knowing he was giving you the privacy to react or cry as much as you want without him looking.

he’s used to this, ever since from the beginning. he’d pick up on it, and when he finally asked before why you were so down on the times he would visit, he couldn’t help but feel irritated that it was just because of your boyfriend. he thought to get away or simply minimize his visits since he realized that you were in a relationship, but it only left him baffled when you would just visit him in turn of his absences in your apartment.

“you know how wes is,” you sighed, mustering up a smile at levi even when he wasn’t looking, “it’s our first anniversary today… and you know he isn’t good at dates-,”

“he didn’t remember your birthday.”

“way to rub salt into the wound,” you muttered angrily, more so to yourself.

levi finally looked up, anger contorted into your face, but he couldn’t do anything about it. he has told you multiple times of what he though of wes and sometimes he couldn’t help but compare wes and himself in his mind whenever you would come crying to him.

“that explains the visit?”

“huh,” you huffed, catching on that teasing glint in his eyes that made you genuinely smile for the first time today, “i don’t always visit you when i have a problem.”

“sure.”

“it’s true!” you smiled, relaxing back on the chair, “i do like your company.”

levi only quirked the corners of his lips as he nodded, going back to his work. few quiet minutes passed by, both of you lost in each other’s worlds: him in his work and you with your relationship.

you couldn’t just let go of wes, you kept thinking that maybe he would change. he would try to be better, show a little effort just when he pursued you in the beginning, but it all vanished. whenever you would visit wes, you’d be met with his empty home, while he drinks off somewhere. at some point, wes would come home with some marks on his neck, and all you could do was tear up a little when you would draw him a hot bath for his hungover. it was the little hint of different scents whenever you would come to him, then it build up to some more.

all you had was levi. you craved for the quiet murmurings, or the quiet hello’s and hi’s in his office, or his visits to your apartment.

“do you think i’m better off without him?” you quietly asked, resting your hand on your cheek as you glanced at levi.

he stopped writing. he licked his lips, raising his head to look at you, his grey eyes over at yours. he took notice of your puffy eyes, the pinked nose, and the tired look on your eyes.

“yes.”

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

the next week, it worried levi that you haven’t visited, not that he was waiting for you. he strolled around the base, standing where he usually sees you enter the base. seconds turned into minutes, and when he has finally decided to resigned back to his office, he heard your voice.

he leaned in closer to the wall, moving his head to where he could hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

“did you finally break it off to wes?” a scout has asked.

“i did,” you answered.

“good riddance,” the scout sighed. “fall for a better guy next time.”

levi moved a little when he heard your footsteps coming nearer. levi leaned in, his feet moving as he watched the two of you walk.

“i already did,” you whispered, clutching on the scout’s arm as they walked with you.

“who?!” the scout smiled, holding their hand over yours.

levi could only watch, his back against the wall as the two of you retreated to the mess hall.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

who?

that questioned lingered in his mind for over a few months, and he couldn’t bare to ask you that question so he only wallowed in that question himself.

levi finished his paperwork, glancing outside and towards you, swaddled up in his spare blanket as you flipped through the books laying around. he fixed his table, putting back his ink in the drawers as well as the papers. he pushed off of his chair, as he wore his jacket, turning around to you.

“it’s getting late,” levi mentioned, lighting up another candle as you wrestle the blanket off. levi walked over, helping you with it, his hand holding yours to help you stand up even when you didn’t need any. “i’ll walk you home.”

“you don’t have to,” you said, squeezing his hand as you tighten the coat around your body, levi helped you with it, cursing to himself that he should stop. you didn’t miss the way his fingers stumbled with your coat, tying the ends tighter as his cheeks flushed with a subtle pink matching the scowl on his face. you smiled, when he perfected the ribbon, “thank you.”

levi nodded, heading over to his door to wait for you. he hung his head low, as he closed the door while you smiled widely on the way home.

the walk home was slower than usual, levi’s steps smaller than usual. it was also quiet, the only sounds were coming from the people walking their way home and the children screaming and playing still. his hand hovered above the small of your back, guiding you through the street towards your home. levi looked straight ahead, deciding to ask you— or make you say it.

who?

“i heard you talking to that scout.”

you raised a brow, leaning in, “i didn’t peg you for a being an eavesdropper. tell me, what did you hear?”

“you broke up with wes.”

“that’s true. i told you about that.”

“and you found someone else.”

“that’s true too. he’s... fantastic. i think.”

“okay.”

“aren’t you happy for me?”

levi turned his head, his hands finding safety inside his pockets. levi tried to hide the annoyance on his face, but he really couldn’t.

“do i know him?”

“sure.”

“have i seen him before?”

“yes, i think,” you smiled, reaching in for the key in your pocket as the apartment came to the view.

“have i seen you with him?”

a stupid question, you thought— glancing at levi. he’s only ever seen you with wes, or himself, if he counts it like that.

“i think so.”

“is he better than wes?”

“thousand times over, yes.”

levi stopped at your front door, watching you fiddle with the key.

“how long have you been together?”

“oh, we aren’t together. yet. he just hasn’t figured out that i like him. he’s stupid. but i hope he likes me or else everything is just... shit.”

that gave levi a feeling of relief. still, jealousy gnaws at his stomach, knowing that somebody caught your eyes and heart, quicker than him. he sighed deeply, defeat drowning him. still, he’s holding on to that thread that this man is stupid enough to not make a move at you. he’s holding on that thought even if it feels like he’s barely holding on it.

“yet?”

“yes. well i hope.” you breathed, staring right at him with a teasing smile. your cheeks blushed, and you didn’t hide them when levi stared at you. “he’s just a tad bit stupid when it comes to these things. sound familiar?”

levi sighed, urging you to go inside already. his scowl deepened as he thought of you and that someone, and admittedly, he doesn’t like it.

it’s no use, you’re too smitten with that guy, levi thought, he hates it.

all you did was laugh, staring at levi. he rolled his eyes, tugging on his trousers as he waited for you.

you weren’t stupid enough to look the other way when he made advances even if it feels too ordinary. the difference was when his touch lingered on yours for a second longer when he accepted his mug; his stares pierced right through you, his greys conveying warmth; the difference when he places a blanket over you as opposed to him tapping on your shoulder to wake you up for home; it was walking closer than usual, his hands brushing over yours when he would walk you home; the most subtle things that tells you a thousand different words.

and you answered his actions back, because that’s where you’ll know he’ll understand.

your hold lasted on his far longer, holding his stares with a smile, leaning on his touch, and holding on his arm in the middle of the walk.

and whenever you do that, levi couldn’t help but let his heart thump a bit harder and the color rushing up his neck. he didn’t think too much of it even if it sounded the alarms in his mind because he knows you aren’t usually like that.

“it’s you, idiot.”

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

levi clutched the small bouquet of flowers he bought, quickly finding sight of the place where you work. he hopes he isn’t pushing this, because you didn’t know that he’ll be visiting. he waited outside the shop, waiting for other people to exit as he crossed his arms, standing by the wall.

the door rung as it opened from the inside but he paid no attention to it. suddenly, he felt somebody throw a piece of paper at him.

and there you were.

peeking through the door with a wide smile, eyes glinting in surprise as you chuckled softly, making him freeze on the spot, the flowers clutched to his chest. you stepped towards him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek that left him flustered.

first kiss from you, and he’s frozen, his thoughts in ramble when he felt your lips on his skin.

“come inside, you idiot.”

#ok levi being clueless that somebody likes him lives in my mind rent free 😌#levi x reader #levi imagines #levi imagine #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman imagines #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan imagines #aot imagine #aot imagines #snk imagine #snk imagines #shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot levi #snk levi

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chews-erotically · 4 years

Photo

Waxing Gibbous

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

* Warnings: Angst/ violence/ mention of blood/ SMUT/ PIV, fingering/ public sex/ slight exhibitionism

* Summary: Ezra confronts his fears. A night out on Central does not go as planned.

* Word Count: ~2600

*Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR* *Part FIVE* *Part SIX* *Part SEVEN* *Part EIGHT* *Part NINE* *Part TEN*

PART ELEVEN

You learned quickly that when Ezra told you he was going to try, he tried. The very next day, he asked you to take him down to the lobby. You’d attempted to protest, but a facet of his personality you were getting more acquainted with over time was the man’s stubbornness.

“Mama always told me I was more stubborn than a mule stuck in a mud puddle,” he’d rambled to you once.

On this day, he said, “You know there’s no other way for me to do this except to get it done, Dove.”

You moved to stand in front of him. You crossed your arms, head tilted to one side as you surveyed him before you. He looked determined, jaw working rhythmically. His hands hung loosely at his sides, but you noticed how he was clenching and unclenching his fists restlessly.

“Ezra“, I don’t expect you to just waltz out of the apartment and seize the city like a lump of aurelac,” you reasoned. “I want to do this on your terms, and I don’t want you to feel in any way pressured. I feel like you think I’m expecting you to do this.”

“Dove, you know that as decisive as I may be, one thing I am not is easily swayed or pressured. Trust that I feel no such thing from you, as it is my choice alone to foray out of this nest.”

So, you had accompanied him cautiously onto the elevator, carefully watching and gauging his reactions to being confined within the claustrophobic reaches of the metal box you found yourselves encased in, ferrying you downward. Ezra’s tongue darted out to wet his lip nervously, you noticed his foot tapping against the carpet. You wondered if he noticed he was doing it.

When the elevator reached its destination with a faint ping, you steeled yourself. You were ready for his impending meltdown, his shaking uncertainty, possibly his refusal to walk any further. Your eyes widened as you watched him stride determinedly out into the lobby. You trailed close behind, ready to reel him back in if he became overwhelmed. You thought that he’d pause a moment, reacquaint himself with the lobby itself before venturing further, but he strode bullishly toward where Brice was standing near the front doorway.

“If you’ll excuse me, my good man,” Ezra muttered through the grim set of his mouth. He did not pause, he did not hesitate. He gave Brice no opportunity to hold the door open for him. He grasped the handle himself and thrust himself out onto a bustling street.

You were right behind him, your brows drawn with concern. You reached out to grasp his hand.

“Ezra?”

His shoulders squared, he turned to face you. He was breathing heavily, his eyes moving in disjointed stutters as if he was trying to download and process everything at once to a file in his brain.

“Ezra, take a deep breath.”

His eyes finally settled on you, dark pools of intensity. He did as you asked. His shoulders dropped to their natural position. Your other hand joined your first, clasping his large hands in yours. People continued past you on their way to their lovers and jobs and homes and they parted like a sea around the both of you as his gaze held you, hypnotic and deep. His hands pulled from your grasp and he crushed himself to you, his mouth finding yours in a dizzying kiss. Breathless, desperate, the rest of the world disappeared.

“I did it, sweet love,” he whispered against your mouth. You did not heed the noise and push of the city thrumming around you, the entire street ceased and froze as if the universe was swallowing its own stars and they reappeared, rebirthed and glittering, in the encompassing weight of Ezra’s eyes upon you.

“All manner of things in this world are limitless and surmountable, survivable, when I have you by my side.”

******

One week later you found yourself in a dive bar that ended up being approximately twenty minutes from your loft. You had worked incrementally each day, walking with Ezra as he ventured further and then a bit further. You saw his confidence begin to return. You had sat one morning at a small table on the sidewalk of a cafe, reading Keats to one another as you sipped cappuccino. Ezra made sly remarks about the goings-on of passing strangers, weaving threads of supposition according to what he thought of what they wore, how quickly they were walking, who they were with. His eyes were lively. He reminded you of the person he’d been at his table in his tent on the Green: head thrown back, joyous.

You were finally knowing him like this.

And so, you sat in the crowded bar, smelling the cologne and sweat and smoke enveloping you and those around you. You had felt nervous entering, a sudden impulse to look for the nearest exit slammed into you. A patron sidled past you, bumping your shoulder. You jumped, your heart hammering. You tried desperately to quell what seemed to be an oncoming panic attack- there were too many people, it was so, so loud and anyone could just reach out and grab you, slam you into-

“Dovie.”

Your frenzied reverie was interrupted by Ezra’s warm hand on the small of your back as he guided you to a table in a corner. His breath tickled the hair that curled around your ear as he spoke close and low.

“Sit here, see? Your back will be against the wall. You can see everyone this way. You are safe with me, sweet one.”

With his voice close, grounding you, you took deep unsteady breaths until you felt your heart rate begin to slow. You reassured him as the bartender approached you. You decided that alcohol may not be a bad idea, for either of you, in helping you relax. You ordered a gin and tonic with lime, Ezra requested an extra dirty vodka martini. While you waited for your drinks you took in the humid press of bodies gyrating on a makeshift dance floor, you absorbed the loose, languid movements of the inebriated patrons before you. Could you do such a thing, would you ever be capable of such abandon again in a place like this?

Your drinks were set in front of you. Ezra reached for his and took a long sip, his eyes closing with a soft groan.

“I cannot begin to tell you how long it’s been since I’ve imbibed such high-brow spirits in what amounts to a dusty hovel.”

You sipped your own drink, the burn sliding down your throat blooming into warmth when it hit your belly. Your brain quickly began to feel fuzzy, your limbs loose and warm. It had been stands since you’d had anything stronger than wine. You set your glass down and turned to see Ezra staring at you, his own cheeks pinking from the effects of his drink. He leaned his head to the side, one hand reaching for your bare knee, at the same time the sudden crack of a pool cue across the room made you jump, an arm shooting out in unconscious self-defense as your hand connected with your glass. Ezra’s own hand reflexively moved to catch the glass before it could topple and shatter, but not before the contents sloshed over the edge to soak down the front of your new dress.

“Kevva-damned. Shit….This is the first time I’ve even worn this!”

Ezra was unperturbed, smiling gently as he squeezed your knee.

“I’m sure it will come out in the wash, love, I’ll leave you only briefly to procure you proper cleaning implements. Do not trouble yourself.”

You sighed, nodding gratefully. You watched as Ezra stood up and made his way to the bar. It was crowded indeed tonight, and you noted that there were quite a few people in line ahead of him. You sighed again, looking down at your front. You wrinkled your nose; you smelled like a distillery.

Klutz.

Lost in your thoughts, it took you a moment in your blunted state to notice that another drink was slid in front of you as the chair beside you scraped back from the table. A man sat down next to you, grinning crookedly. He leaned forward before speaking.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before. Sorry about the drink, I thought maybe you could use a replacement.”

His hair was flame-colored, unnaturally so. His nose, eyebrows and ears were heavily pierced, and his arms were covered in tattoos. In another lifetime, perhaps, you may have welcomed his advances. Tonight, however, you glanced around frantically for Ezra. You felt suddenly exposed, like a lame rabbit trapped in a dog pen.

“I…..I’m not alone, you know. I’m here with someone. So, no thank you. On the drink.”

The man’s brows shot up in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t mean….sorry. I saw you spill your drink, and then I saw your friend get up...I was getting my own drink, I figured you could use another one as well.”

You swallowed down your panic, your hand twitching in your lap.

If only I had a thrower.

“You were watching me?”

“Relax. I was just trying to be nice!”

“What did you put in this drink, anyway? Sedative? Some kind of amatory agent?”

“I don’t know what you-”

The man choked on the rest of his words as he was yanked out of the chair roughly by the back of his shirt. He was slammed up against the wall, Ezra’s fingers wrapped around the man’s throat.

“I do believe the lady would like to be left alone,” he hissed darkly, jaw clenched. His head was lowered, eyes blackened pools of rage. His voice wavered on a razor-thin edge of control. The interloping man’s eyes were wide, it appeared that he was gasping for breath as Ezra’s knuckles turned white. You noticed the knife in Ezra’s hand. You had the far away realization that he must have been keeping it in his boot, the same way he had on the Green.

He had carried it all this time.

Ezra brought the tip of his knife to a slot of pulsing skin between his fingertips. The blade pressed in, a bead of blood pricking forth as the man gasped. A dark spot spread on the front of the man’s pants.

“Do you know how quickly a man bleeds out if cut in just the right way? I do, I know from experience. Do you also know how to make things last, how to prolong one’s mortal agony until they plead for the sweet embrace of oblivion? I know that too.”

You were monsters, you realized with a sudden, shocking clarity. You were not fit for civilization. Ezra was a hair's-breadth from murdering a stranger in a public place while you watched impassively. This is who you have become. This is what the moon had done to you.

Without thinking, you jumped up from the table. Your hand grasped Ezra’s shoulder.

“EZRA.” your voice was clear, sobered, authoritative. “Stop. Come back.”

Ezra almost shook his head as he looked at his hand, holding the knife as if it belonged to someone else. He let the man go, and the man slid down the wall to crumple onto the ground.

You realized it was silent- everyone in the bar was staring.

You grabbed onto his hand in a vise-like grip and moved to the door.

“We’re leaving. NOW.”

There was a sea of shocked silence that parted around you. You did not hesitate, you did not stop to take in the widened eyes, the slack jaws. You walked until you were both out in the cool air of the warm night.

You kept your eyes forward with a tight grip on Ezra’s hand.

Get away, you repeated in your mind like a mantra. Get away, get away, get away…

You squeaked out a wordless exclamation when Ezra halted, pulling you backward into a narrow side alley. He spun you to face the cool brick wall, caging you with his hands and hips. He pressed up against you insistently, panting as if he’d been sprinting.

“Ez-” your words were cut off as his lips crushed onto yours, rough and messy. His hands grasped at the hem of your dress, raking it up around your waist. He ripped your underwear down past the curve of your ass with trembling fingers. You gasped when his fingers entered you, rough and sudden.

“Ezra, we’re in an alley, someone could walk byyyy…” your last words dissolved in a whine as he angled his fingers, expertly curled, and hit that spot inside- the place he knew you needed him most.

Hot plosives of air against your ear, you felt fully enveloped by Ezra and completely exposed to everything else. He withdrew his fingers suddenly and frantically went to unfasten his pants.

“I need you,” he rasped, his voice desperate and shuddering. “I need to come back to myself. Remind myself. Please. I need to know you are mine. Show me.”

You felt the blunt head of him notched at your entrance. Grasping his cock in his fist, he spread your leaking arousal to mix with the precum dripping from his own slit before sliding into you with a single thrust. His hips met yours as you brought your fist to your mouth, biting down to keep from screaming. Ezra withdrew almost completely, still trembling, and slammed back into you. Your breasts were mashed against the rough wall, you had to use both hands to brace yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts. One of his hands went up to your mouth and covered it firmly; his other hand reached between your legs to circle your clit roughly.

He fucked up into you with abandon, without regard for his surroundings and despite the possibility of being caught. He kept his voice low, gasping and whining as his punishing rhythm had you quickly hurtling toward your own release.

“Mine….mine,” he groaned into your ear, slapping sounds from your desperate union echoing in the air of the alleyway. “Going to fuck you like this in every corner of Central, on every surface. Claim this pussy over and over again. Take you apart.”

His words against your sweat-slicked skin, his hot breath, his fingers on your clit, his brutal thrusts all melded into the sin of him taking your like this, claiming you in the open. You release slammed into you, unexpected, overwhelming. You bit the inside of his hand, breaths harsh, ragged, keening. You sobbed wordlessly against him as he stilled, spilling into you as he cried out. The intensity and strength of his orgasm had rendered him incapable of remaining quiet. Your legs shook, Ezra’s arms wrapping firmly around your waist to keep you from collapsing to the dirty concrete.

When your hammering heart had finally slowed and your breathing finally evened out, Ezra reverently helped you back to some semblance of presentability before you made your way back to your apartment, still shaky and somewhat lightheaded.

Once back in the safety of your shared home you sighed deeply before wrapping your arms around Ezra’s waist. You knew you both had quite a bit more to work through than you’d originally thought, but Kevva knew there was no one else for you. You gazed up at him with a small, sad smile.

“We can’t go back to that bar, Ezra.”

“I know, Dove.”

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#chews-erotically #chews-erotically writes #ezra prospect #Ezra #Ezra x reader

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #451

“taste the waste of their god’s grace & spit your hate upon your young”

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? A shitload of people. Do you like to go to the farmer's market? Yeah, sure. What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? Probably black. What's your favorite melon? I don't really like melons, actually. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :( When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Literally every day. Seriously. It's funny, I dread fighting to sleep at night, but I also just want it to be time to sleep so time will pass. My life is just so fucking boring that I just... wait for something exciting to happen. Name one person you've never had a fight with: Tez. What are you currently listening to? "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment. What would you rather have: cat or dog? I prefer cats. Who is your least favorite person in real life? Probably my sister's husband. Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? I'll sometimes watch live let's plays. Does your house have security cameras? No. If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I'll be dyeing it. What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I'm not sure. What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Silent Hill 2's, definitely. Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? I don't know if it's really a secret, but I didn't know until this year that my dad did some really dangerous drugs before us kids were born. Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yes. What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Food, ha ha. Feels great to have a full kitchen after a grocery trip. What’s the strangest decorative object you own? Nothing "strange" to me. What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? One biggie is having a baby. I just... could not imagine. My life would plummet. What’s been your proudest moment? Graduating in the top percentile in my high school graduating class. What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Omfg, Sausage Party. That movie was so gross. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Thankfully, no. I don't even think I could befriend someone who doesn't like animals. Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No. Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? Yeah, like me with whale sharks. Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Not really, no. Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Amy Lee's. And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yeah, such as Bob Dylan. Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Tui T. Sutherland, but only because I read their series Wings of Fire. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? I'm sure on Facebook at some point. Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? Does the freezer count? If so, this Healthy Choice grilled chicken pesto bowl I have in there. I am like addicted to them. Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? I don't know. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? It varies month-to-month. Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? I had my Markiplier tattoo essentially redone by a better artist. I also plan on getting my "ohana" tat covered, as well as my "how rare and beautiful it is to even exist" one (I adore the quote, but it's not an original design, which I don't like having anymore), and I want to move and redesign my "perfectly flawed" one because I want a bigger tattoo in its location. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Yeah; I'm pretty sure I like-like my friend Girt now, something I was never entirely sure about. When was the last time you did something on a whim? *shrug* Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Well, I guess both, but Dad didn't do a lot of the teaching part about life and stuff. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Yes. Colleen tried that with me and Girt and only succeeded in making us very uncomfortable. She said something I wanted to slap her for that I won't repeat. What is your card game of choice? Magic: The Gathering. What is your favourite books series? I think my favorite series of all time was the Shiloh trilogy. I adored both the books and movies. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? You'd better give me landmarks, ha ha. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Of course. What was your favourite gym class moment? There're such things as GOOD gym memories in school? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yes. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No, I always thought it was very flattering that they even wanted mine. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? The Phantom Virus one. I had the video game as a kid, too. Could never beat the damn thing. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? No? I don't like seeing children - or anyone - fall. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? So, this really only happened once, and it was coincidentally the day I learned of her pancreatic cancer, but before Mom told me. I had an assignment to interview someone of an older generation about how various sources of media affected their lives, like the development of TV and such, and she really got into it. It was very interesting to learn about. Do you have a crush on someone? I guess I do idfk. If so... what does his/her name begin with? "D." What attracts you to them? More than anything, the fact he's been there for me without fail. Both single and when I was with Jason and he was interested in me, he's just... been there and has made an effort since high school to be in my life in one way or another. Do they know that you like them? Not anymore, no. We dated for a few months, but I broke up with him because he felt more like my brother, so I would assume he doesn't think I do. Maybe he still is family to me. I really don't know what I feel. If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? I might at some point, idk. We just haven't talked in a while. Name two people that you miss: Jason and Megan. Have you ever seen Titanic? When I was in the hospital, yes. Everyone was crying, lmao. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I would. When was the last time you had a stomachache? Now. Mother Nature finally visited me after three whole fucking months and is v angry. What's going to bed early for you? Like 7:00. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Of pets! Human kids ain't for me. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Hell if I know. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes. I got Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I did on my second dosage. I was OUT of it the day afterwards, but then I was fine. What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? I need new bras badly. What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? It's called "Not Just A Pet Rock (Python regius)" and is a group for advanced ball python husbandry. It is very informative, but I will say there is a SHITLOAD of very rude elitists. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? NO because it's a PANCAKE and I want CAKE. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I personally think so. When Sara visited and we were trying to go to my older sister's so she especially could meet her, Ash entirely ignored Mom's messages. I know her homophobic husband well enough to nearly be able to guarantee he didn't want us coming over because the kids "don't need to see that." Ash kinda does what Nick says, so... you know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I know I'm happier with pets. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? It's too short to do that. At what age did you start swearing? However old I was in 7th grade. What is something you physically can’t do? Clean up vomit lkdsjal;sdkjfa;lkwd. I can't clean up my pet's or even my own. I literally can't. My mom has to. What do like better, apples or oranges? Apples. I don't like oranges. Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Yes!!! What are your top two favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. How many people do you 100% trust? Like two. Maybe. Do you care what others think about you? Way too much. Has anyone ever called you a bitch? My grandmother has. Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Omg yes, I was obsessed. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? No. Not because I don't want to, because I do, but I would have an extreme protein deficit if I did that. Besides meat, I don't like enough protein-rich foods. Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yes. Did you make any money today? I haven't made any money in a very, very long time. I'm only ever paid when someone hires me to take pictures for them. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I don't know. Definitely not very high. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? I have zero clue. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Hm. Perhaps this techno-y remix of "Psychosocial" by Slipknot. I don't know for sure, though. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either the violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? Probably clouded leopards aesthetics, but I think lions overall. If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Pay off school debt as well as help Mom with various financial issues, buy new glasses, buy Mom and I a new house and car, get Venus a great tank with all the optimal supplies, get LOADS of tattoos, donate to various charities, adopt a few specific pets, travel to Yellowstone, get laser hair removal on my legs and teeth whitening... There are a lot of possibilities. Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? Just scaly ones. :') "First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? Yeeeep... Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really have an opinion on him. I know/like a couple songs, sure. What are some things that would make you break up with someone? If they became abusive, started doing drugs, acted arrogantly, didn't understand my mental conditions and were unwilling to be emotionally supportive, stuff like that. What was the worst breakup you've ever had? Ha, the one with Jason. For. Fucking. Sure.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''degrade'' by 3teeth

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leiasfanaccount648 · 4 years

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Is It Enough?

Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem!Reader

A/N: I got inspired by some lovely Haikyuu writers (as well as some real life events) to make my own scenario. Also, gif credits go to the maker, not me. I hope you all enjoy! :)

Tags: @briswriting @mikwrites @haikyuuopworld

Summary: After dating throughout and after high school, Hajime decides to propose to his girlfriend of 5+ years. Of course, the process leading up to popping the question is a lot harder than he realized it would be.

Word Count: 5410

Warnings/Contains: TONS of fluff, fair amount of angst/sadness, nerves. Also, disclaimer, I did google searches and currency transfers/differences for parts of the fic (you’ll see) so I apologize in advance if anything seems incorrect/weird.

Google Search:

what is the best way to propose

Search Results:

Prep a place in a private beach with an intimate tent and rose petals. Find a private beach to go on bended knee for a simple proposal idea. Put a ring on in it down by the beach. Get snazzed up and then suggest walking down by the water.

“There’s no way I can do that.”

Google Search:

When is an appropriate time to propose

Search Results:

While some would prefer to be in a relationship for two or three years before even thinking about getting married, a new study conducted by F. Hinds says the optimum time is just ONE YEAR and eight months (and three days to be exact!)

“Am I too late to even be doing this?”

Google Search:

how much is the average engagement ring

Search Results:

According to recent surveys, most couples expect to spend between ¥108,022 and ¥540,110 on an engagement ring. The actual average cost for an engagement ring is over ¥665,796. With all that said, most women are reasonable creatures.

“God, I can’t afford anywhere close to that.”

Relationships can be many things, whether they’re serious, just starting out, or even just with a friend or family member. Either way, complicated things always come rushing in that either strengthen or ruin them.

For Hajime, he had been in a serious relationship with his girlfriend for years, and he had been struggling with something that most men could probably figure out and accomplish in a matter of months.

He had been at it for almost 2 years, and it was a simple proposal.

“Iwaizumi!”

Hajime quickly turned around at the voice, seeing a girl he vaguely recognized from his class running down the hall towards him. She was not only sudden about her words but also a little frantic; god knew whatever she wanted from him, but he was about to find out himself. “Yeah? Can I help you?” He looked the girl up and down real quick, noticing how she was slightly out of breath. He took the moment to try and remember her name as well, but she took care of that for him.

“Although we’re in the same class I doubt you know who I am,” she laughed, finding the idea funny, “but I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I’m really struggling on the english homework that’s due at the end of the week, and I know that you’re good at the subject so I was wondering if maybe you’d take some time out of your life to help me pass?”

Hajime glanced to the side to see if his friends were present, but noticed that they were still walking down the hallway to head towards the gym. Only Oikawa stopped when he realized that his best friend wasn’t walking beside him anymore, watching the two talk from a couple feet away.

“Uh, I mean,” Hajime didn’t know what to say at first, not wanting to be rude but still wanting to be a decent human being. “I have volleyball practice before and after school every day, but if you want to meet during lunch or something I can try my best to help you.”

“Really?” The girl gave him a relieved yet bright smile, as though asking him something like that was the most intimidating thing to ever do. She quickly bowed her head in thanks. “Thank you so much, I owe you big time!” Hajime smiled a little himself, opening his mouth to respond but his idiotic friend called for him.

“Iwa-Chan! Quit talking with your admirers and let’s get going.” Oikawa began walking down the hall after their other friends. “Us first years can’t be late you know!”

Hajime sighed in both annoyance and embarrassment. He turned his head slightly towards Oikawa. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He glanced back at (Y/N). “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”

(Y/N) shook her head, smiling. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She began to walk back towards the classroom, waving back at him. “Thanks again, Iwaizumi!”

Hajime stopped from typing on his computer as he thought back to almost 6 years ago. The moment that he met the love of his life was cliche for sure, but he still loved her nonetheless. From the random nonsense she would spew at him, to how cute she looked when struggling to reach for something and would refuse to admit that she needed his help, to how she would comfort him after bad practices and games alike; there wasn’t a single thing about her that made him not want to love her. That was why he had to marry her.

“Iwa!” (Y/N) quickly made her way over to Hajime, smiling bright despite it being so late in the day. “Are you ready to go?”

Hajime turned to look at her, ignoring Oikawa’s rant about whatever skill or technique he had been working on that day during practice. He managed a smile despite being so worn out from the last few hours. “Yeah, I just need to get changed real quick then we can head out.”

It had been almost a year since the two of them started dating, and things were going well. Slow, but good nonetheless. They ate lunch together, walked to and from school, and had the occasional date night every other week or so. It was simple, but with them still being in high school and being busy with things in their lives outside of classes, it was just about all they could do anyways.

Of course, Hajime had the constant thought at the back of his mind of whether or not it was enough for (Y/N).

They had just started their second year at Aoba Johsai, and although both of them acted comfortable with the way they had been doing things, Hajime was worried that she would leave him for someone that could give her more. This then led him to worry if (Y/N) was worrying about whether or not she was enough for him.

She constantly reassured him that it was okay if he couldn’t walk her to school one morning due to an earlier morning practice, or if she happened to have a family event in the evening so they couldn’t get snacks after their clubs were done for the day. As long as they could keep in touch, and still felt the same about one another, everything was okay, at least in her eyes.

He believed what she said, but Hajime still had to ask her something for the sake of his sanity before he got desperate enough to ask Oikawa for help. It wasn’t that he hated any ideas or suggestions he thought of, he just didn’t think that a plan from a guy who only flirts and rarely (actually) dates women would work in Hajime’s case.

Iwaizumi finished changing as fast as he could, quickly saying goodbye to everyone in the clubroom before leaving and rushing down the metal stairs to meet his girlfriend at the bottom. “Ready when you are.”

Their walk was nothing out of the ordinary. Loosely held hands, talking about how their clubs went and sharing funny stories or jokes about some of their friends (mostly Oikawa), and overall enjoying each other’s company. They decided to skip snacks on the way home tonight, as (Y/N) told Hajime that her mother had planned a big dinner and didn’t want to miss out on it, but that made the walk no less interesting.

Silence fell upon them after (Y/N) finished talking about how one of her friends in her club had accidentally messaged their crush about something embarrassing, and a slight breeze went past the two of them, making (Y/N) shiver slightly. She didn’t say anything, but Hajime noticed and let go of her hand to put his arm around her waist and hold her close.

“Iwa-”

“You’re cold.”

(Y/N) didn’t say anything else, only smiling and leaning against him as they continued to walk. A moment or so later, Hajime spoke up.

“By the way, do you have anything going on in a couple months?”

The two stopped at an intersection to wait for the crosswalk to turn green and (Y/N) took out her phone to check her calendar. She shrugged as she looked through it, double checking just to make sure. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Are you busy June 18th?”

(Y/N) glanced at the date again on her phone as Hajime responded almost immediately. She smiled as she remembered the date. “You mean to tell me you’re planning something for our 1 year anniversary?” She held back a giggle as she saw his face flush slightly. She always found it cute when he let his guard down and got flustered because of her.

Hajime glanced up, seeing the crosswalk signal change. He pulled (Y/N) close to him once again and started to cross the street with her. He sighed, knowing it was now or never. “Well, I’m planning on it.” Here it goes. “I’m just not entirely sure what to do.”

(Y/N) did her best to look up at him, despite him holding onto her the way that he was. “What do you mean?” She didn’t necessarily understand why he seemed so unsure and nervous on the subject. Afterall, all she could really ask for was a day with him by herself; however, there was a look in his eye as Hajime continued to look ahead at the sidewalk that practically told her that an answer like that wouldn’t suffice for him. “You don’t have to worry yourself, Iwaizumi. I don’t need anything special or extravagant like what most girls would want.”

“But I feel like I could be doing more and,” he paused, glancing down at the concrete. “I just don’t know what I can do for you.” There it was. He didn’t plan on saying it that quickly into the conversation, but it was racking his mind like crazy.

(Y/N) forced the two of them to slow their walk until they were stopped. She stood in front of him; the look in her eyes almost held the same emotion his did: worry. “Wait, is there a problem with me? Is what we’ve been doing getting old?” Of course she knew it was a little irrational to think much less say these thoughts to him, but now she couldn’t help it. Hajime shook his head, his gaze never leaving her eyes.

“No, no, of course not.” He paused, quickly gathering his thoughts. “If anything, it’s more of the other way around.” He laughed softly, part of it almost forced out. He took hold of her hands, looking at them before meeting her gaze once again. “I just care about you so much that I’m afraid of screwing up what we already have.”

“But I’ve already told you that I don’t need much.”

“Yes, but you deserve so much more.”

(Y/N) felt her heart practically skip at his words, touched and even felt the love radiating off his words. She knew that they hadn’t been dating long enough for most people to say it, but she could still feel the love between the two of them.

(Y/N) didn’t know until Hajime told her almost a year later, but that was the moment that he realized he loved her. He also didn’t believe her at first when she said that part of her knew. It was all so uncanny to both of them that it just felt unreal. Of course, both of them knew that they didn’t care how typical their relationship was. It was theirs and no one else’s.

Hajime took a deep breath, the smile slowly leaving his face as he stared at the computer screen, looking through link after link, google search after google search, trying to find not only the right ring, but the right time and place as well. He sighed again, shaking his head.

“This isn’t working.”

He stood up from his desk, grabbing his wallet, keys, and jacket before heading out the door. Maybe some hands on searching would help him. They had come this far, and he knew that he couldn’t fail her now.

“I just,” (Y/N) sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe that won’t let up about this.”

It was late, around 10pm on a Friday, and (Y/N) had been on a skype call with Hajime for the past half hour or so. She hadn’t been messaging him for a few hours since he dropped her off at home, which worried him a little, but he knew that she wouldn’t be ignoring him on purpose. So he decided to keep himself distracted until he received a Skype call on his computer from her.

He was a little confused, as they didn’t Skype often, nor had she texted prior to calling him. Of course, that didn’t stop him from walking over to his desking and sitting down before answering the call. He felt his heart break at the sound and sight of her crying, one hand holding her forehead as she the other held a crumpled up tissue to her eyes. Hajime would have done anything to physically be with her right now, but he knew that he couldn’t at the moment.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just my parents again.” She sniffled, looking up at the camera as she heard his voice. “I swear once we’ve graduated, I’m going to keep as little contact with them as possible.”

Ever since (Y/N)’s parent’s met Hajime, they loved him. They knew he was caring, protective, and all around a great guy for their daughter. When they found out his intentions after high school, they started to suggest things to (Y/N) that, in short terms, would make her want to either push Hajime to consider a different career, or even break up with him.

Yes, Hajime was a great volleyball player, but neither of (Y/N)’s parents thought that he could make a living playing professionally. Sports at the national level were hard enough to make into as it is, and as talented as he was, neither of them thought he could.

Hajime was aware of this, after (Y/N)’s parents started talking to her about life after high school, and he honestly didn’t care for their opinions on his playing; but after seeing how upset they made (Y/N) and realizing that he didn’t know himself how he was supposed to make his girlfriend’s parents completely happy with her choice of being with him, he couldn’t help but be annoyed and upset as well.

Hajime had managed to calm (Y/N) down on the matter, but her thoughts about life after graduation continued. Yes, the year had just started, but there was still so much to decide on. What would life after the two of them graduated be like? Would they both be in college; same or different? Would Hajime go out for a national team and make it resulting in her to go wherever he went, or be in a long distance relationship? Would neither of them go to college, each get a job, and move in somewhere together?

So many questions ran through her head, and Hajime could tell even if she was through a screen. Just in case her parents might have been able to hear, he quickly pulled out his phone and sent her a text. As she received it, (Y/N) glanced up at her computer to see Hajime simply looking at her and gesturing for her to open it.

Hajime: You wanna go get some food?

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile, quickly replying.

(Y/N): Yes please

Hajime: Great. I’ll pick you up in 10

She glanced up at the screen one more time, seeing him smile at her. It read everything, but she still said it nonetheless. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Just like he said, Hajime picked her up at her house (as it hadn’t been the first time she had snuck out), and he drove the two of them to her favorite fast food place. They went through the drive-thru but stayed in the parking lot to eat as they had nowhere else to go. This time, it was (Y/N) who had to ask him a question that had been rattling her mind.

“What do you think our lives are going to be like after we graduate?”

Hajime looked over at her, still chewing his food, and saw the look on her face. Part of her was still thinking about what her parents said about him, but he couldn’t blame her. He swallowed and turned in his seat to face her. “Well, what would you like it to be?”

(Y/N) looked down for a moment in thought and smiled. It was as though she had already thought about it. “I would love for us to live together. If only I go to college, I’d study while you play for one of the national level teams, and I’d also get a job to help pay for things.” She set the bag of food down on the floor of the car below her seat before holding both of her knees in her arms as she sat. She continued to think about what their life could be like, a fond smile still on her face.

“However, if you don’t make a national team, I know you’ll still play at the college we decide to go to. Hell, maybe even Oikawa will follow us there if he doesn’t make a team either.” She chuckles, causing Hajime to do the same. She bit her lip in thought, letting go of her knees so her legs could relax and looking out through the car windshield at the street 10 or so feet away from them. Hajime stayed silent as he knew (Y/N) had more that she wanted to say.

“Later down the road after I, or we both,” she glanced at him, “graduate, we’ll continue to live together. We’ll both have stable jobs, and I just know you’re going to be involved with professional volleyball whether you’re on the court, interviewing players, or spectating games.” She smiled to herself again. “And,” she looked up at him once more, “we’ll even get married.”

Hajime considered that either time had stopped or his heart had. Whether it was one, the other, or both, his gaze did not leave hers. He was so surprised by her last statement that his face didn’t show any other emotion other than shock. (Y/N) couldn’t tell if it was the good or bad kind. Eventually, he spoke up, his hand reaching out to hold her own. “You really mean that?”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop the tearful smile from appearing on her face, nodding and squeezing his hand slightly. “Yes, Hajime.” She took hold of his other hand. “I love you so much and I want us to be together for as long as time will allow us.”

Hajime didn’t stop himself, nor could he if he wanted to. He leaned over the center console of the car and kissed her, one of his hands letting go of hers to gently hold the back of her neck to keep her close.

They kissed for a few seconds before (Y/N) broke away to climb over the gearshift to straddle his lap. She pulled him close once again to resume the kiss, her hands holding his shoulders and neck while his stayed on her waist.

Soon enough, (Y/N) was clinging to Hajime with all that she had, smiling and giggling in between kisses and causing him to do the same. She paused for a moment, resting her forehead against his, both of them breathless.

“Hajime?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he still heard her nonetheless.

“Yeah?”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment before breaking out into a wide grin again. “I love you so much.”

Hajime smiled as well, one hand gently holding onto her cheek as his eyes closed. “I love you, too.”

“We carry a wide selection of rings varying from bands to the diamonds, and we can customize just about any ring to make sure that she says yes.”

Hajime nodded, paying careful attention to what the saleswoman was telling him. She was nice and soft with her words, as though she had gone through her fair share of nervous boyfriends trying to find the perfect ring. He appreciated the help as much as the next guy, but now that he had done all the research he could and was finally looking in a store, it was as though all of that research was gone from his head.

“So,” she turned to face Hajime, still smiling as sweet as ever. “Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for? Or possibly a style or cut that you know she’s wanting?”

Hajime shrugged, a nervous smile on his face. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure.”

“Well that’s totally fine!” She smiled, walking over to a display of rings. “Lots of people come in not knowing what they’re looking for. However,” she walked behind the display, gesturing to it. “These styles and cuts are the most popular with our customers.”

Hajime nodded, looking over each ring individually. They were all beautiful for sure; some had plain bands, others had designs or diamonds on the sides of the main gem. There were rings that had one big diamond, rings with 2 or 3 small ones, and he could picture (Y/N) each and every one of them. Then he saw the price tags, and his heart dropped.

His gaze went to each and every one, and it was as though he could feel his face get paler as he read over all of them. He and (Y/N) were halfway through their second year in college, and he knew that both of them were in quite a bit of debt as it was. Paying for any one of these rings would probably put them even more into the negative. He couldn’t do that to her.

Then he pictured him calling Oikawa for help and possibly ruining the relationship to the point that she may dump him. He just couldn’t leave the store empty handed.

Hajime cleared his throat to not seem too uncertain or even unstable. He looked up at the woman across the display. “Pardon me for asking, but what are the least expensive rings you have available?”

The woman stared at him for a second, a little shocked that he asked that out of all the possible questions she already had an answer for, but she still did her job with the same kind smile. She walked over to a different display, Hajime following close behind on the other side of the glass cases. “Well, I wouldn’t call them the cheapest diamond rings, of course, but they’re definitely the least in value given the sizes of the diamonds and/or the styles and material of the bands.”

Hajime nodded, once again looking over each of the rings by what they looked like before looking at the prices. He didn’t want to admit it, but he could practically see why these rings were the least expensive. They weren’t as flashy or as big as the most commonly sold; and he knew that (Y/N) had told him time and time again that she didn’t need what most girls wanted, and that what he offered her would always be enough. Five and a half years into the relationship, but he still second guessed himself on that matter.

Hajime blinked a couple times to clear his thoughts, and began to look over the price tags. Once again, he could picture (Y/N) wearing them, but they didn’t seem as perfect as the ones in the first display case. But the price tags were in his range at the moment, and he thanked every god he could that he had been saving up over the last two years.

He then noticed a ring that was practically in the bottom corner of the display, standing at ¥26,443.56, which he knew was extremely cheap for an engagement ring. Of course, it was also the simplest and smallest. The lady behind the counter noticed his eye on it, and gently pulled it out of the case for him to see up close.

“This one is probably the most stereotypical, as it’s a simple 14k white gold band with a 0.25 carat round cut diamond with six prongs holding it. It’s the smallest we have to offer, but it might just be in your price range along with the other rings here.” She smiled and placed the ring back on the cushion on which it was displayed.

Hajime nodded, glancing over at the other display he first saw. The rings he saw in there were more extravagant and and elegant, and he could easily pick any one of them as they all would look beautiful on (Y/N); however, he just couldn’t put the two of them in debt over a ring that he may have to return anyway from not making payments on time. He took a deep breath and looked down at the ring that the woman had taken out of the display case, and smiled.

‘This one is probably the most stereotypical.’

Just like he and (Y/N). This was the ring.

“I’ll go with this one.”

~ ~ ~

Later that evening, Hajime had decided to throw away all suggestions that the internet gave him and go with his gut feeling with proposing: a nice home cooked dinner in the comfort of the apartment they had lived in since they graduated high school, and at the end he’d get down on one knee and ask the fabled question.

(Y/N) been at work all afternoon, and it had been a rough one. Customers go frustrated, coworkers not doing what they were supposed to, her boss “kindly” warning her of some things. It was practically the whole nine yards and all she wanted was for Hajime to hold and comfort her. The moment she opened the door, she almost slammed it closed as she walked inside. She quickly took off her shoes and dropped her bag at the door before heading towards the kitchen where she knew Hajime would be making dinner. The moment she saw him, he was already making his way towards her and immediately took her into his arms.

The moment Hajime heard the door open and slam shut, he knew something was wrong. He turned the stove off and started walking towards the door. He met her half way, his arms around her waist while hers were around his middle. She couldn’t help but tear up finally letting go of all the pent up stress the day had brought upon her.

Part of Hajime didn’t want to bring up the proposal, but part of him also wanted to make her feel better from it. And as the night wore on, he couldn’t help but sway back and forth between each decision. First, he managed to calm her down and make her feel better, but then he shortly forgot about the dinner and almost burnt it. Then, while dinner tasted great, he forgot to finish making the desert and (Y/N) had to help him. While he appreciated the help, he wanted this night to be for her. She deserved so much and no matter what he did, it just didn’t seem to be-

“Hajime.”

He flinched slightly as he felt (Y/N) hug him from behind. He offered to wash the dishes while she got a quick shower, and he didn’t realize how harshly he was scrubbing at a plate until (Y/N) got his attention. He had been so lost in thought all evening, more so all day than anything else, that it was really starting to catch up with him. He sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to bother you with my problems.”

“That’s what couples are supposed to do.” (Y/N) smiled as she got a chuckle out of him. “And then they make you feel better again with distractions or solutions.” She let go of him, walking around to sit on the counter next to the sink. She was dressed in her robe, hair still wet, but she still looked as beautiful as ever in Hajime’s eyes.

“Well you, for sure, are a distraction, my love.” He smiled cheekily, moving to stand in between her legs and hold onto her waist while he kissed her gently. (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, pulling away first.

“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll help you with whatever it is.”

Hajime stared at her for a second before taking a deep breath. “Okay.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the black box that held the ring. He didn’t need to open it as he saw (Y/N)’s eyes widen. She immediately felt herself tear up and held one hand to her mouth. Her eyes stayed trained on the box while his stared at her own. “It’s this that’s been troubling me.

“(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you for over 5 years, and I plan to never stop. We’ve been there for each other through so many pinnacle moments of our lives from when I lost my last high school game to when you finally stood up to your parents about what you were going to do with your life.” Hajime’s breath hitched a little as (Y/N) finally looked up to meet his eye. “I know that we’re going to have both hardships and great times together ahead of us, but as long as I have you getting me through it,” he smiled, starting to tear up. “I know that nothing can get between us.” Then he frowned, glancing down at the box himself.

“However, I know that I can’t always offer you the best that the world has to offer. Whether it be the house we stay in, the work lives we have, or even this ring.” He opened the box, starting to feel a small wave of embarrassment. “I’m always afraid that who I am and what I have to offer may never be enough for you someday, but damn it I will always try to be.”

Hajime paused, feeling that if he went on any longer that he’d bore her or she’d make him stop. Instead, he took a deep breath and removed the ring from it’s box. “I know that it’s not a whole carat or fancy looking, but it’s all that I could afford, and I hope that you’ll accept it and me for the rest of your life.” He smiled, seeing as (Y/N) was doing the same despite the tears starting to fall. “So, (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”

(Y/N) let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding at first, and grinned wide. “Yes.” She nodded, pulling him in for a kiss. This time, it was Hajime who broke it first, sliding the ring onto her finger. She whispered.

“No matter if you're rich, poor, can give me nothing, or give me something, I will always love you Hajime Iwaizumi. And I will never trade you for someone else no matter what they do to try and persuade me.”

Hajime couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he leaned in close and kissed her again. “I’ll always love you, too, (Y/N) Iwaizumi.”

(Y/N) laughed softly, playing with the hairs on the back of his head as her hands rested there. “Oh, so it’s already decided that I’m taking your last name?”

He laughed as well. “I mean can you blame me? I don’t think Hajime (R/N) really fits. Unless you really think that the Iwaizumi name isn’t enough for you.” He smirked, enjoying how he got her laugh so hard at that.

“While I’d greatly agree for the sake of messing with you, it actually sounds perfect.” She smiled, eyes never leaving his. “As long as it’s from you, it’s enough.”

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

The Last Nugget (Hawks x Reader) pt.3

a/n: okay... so this ended up being quite longer than i intended it to be :’) this particular part does NOT have Hawks in it. Just mentions of him and the like. This is merely a transition part to smoothly enter part 4 :)

instead, this focuses more on what happens moments before~ ya’ll dont have to read it tho :) i’ll be releasing the last(?) part in a day or two :) i hope you guys enjoy :) !

link: part 1, part 2

warnings: none

Masterlist to my other fics :) here

A month and 2 weeks have passed.

A month and 2 weeks of having little to no communication with Hawks.

This was nothing but a tell tale sign that he was definitely not okay. Sure, there were longer periods of time where the two of you would not see each other. But Hawks was always Keigo when it came to you. When he felt you were near, he would send out a feather. Just to make you know he, too, thinks about you. However, this time, there was just nothing.

To say that the Hero Public Safety Commission was shocked to see you barge into their office would be an understatement. Seeing the number 10 hero approaching them with such hatred in her eyes was enough to rattle them. All eyes were focused on you, yet yours were burned holes into the lady seated in the middle.

“(hero name),” She began. Her elbows resting on her desk while her knuckles hid her lips. “What is so important that you came barging in without sched-”

“You know,” It felt like heaven to cut her off. “I’ve never liked you.”

“This is the very reason why we told Hawks-”

“You have zero right to call him by his name.” You spit out. Anger lacing with your voice. Following her every movement, you did not move an inch when she stood up from her seat. Her usual emotionless demeanor holding on. “If you open your mouth, I will not hesitate to hit you. I could care less if you take my license away.”

Her jaw tightened and you saw her swallowing some saliva. When the other suited officers tried to take her defense, you activated your quirk. Beads of sweat immediately formed on their foreheads. They weren’t that dumb to know that your quirk was much more effective than theirs combined.

Straightening her suit, she cleared her throat and motioned the others to sit down.

“What is it that you want, (hero name)?” She mockingly asked you.

“To see you all suffer.” Your focus jumped from one person to the other. “I’m a petty person. I’m sure all of you are aware of that,”

Walking around the room, you saw how each of their shoulders trembled. From under the table, you could see the small movement their feet made. The way their eyes desperately tried to evade yours. Of course this little show you put on wouldn’t last long.

Hidden beneath the anger, your heart was beating the crap out of you.This was done in such a hasty way that you were simply winging it. All you needed was confirmation. Confirmation that the place you suspected he was in, was true.

“Just tell me.” Your fingers began to lazily glide through their expensive glass topped desks. “Where is he?”

“We d-” The president tried to explain but only scoffed when you cut her off once more. Her blood was boiling and her eyes landed on the small telephone beside her. The red button to alert the guards, all too tempting.

“I swear to the gods. If you say ‘we don’t know’, I will break these luxurious tables of yours.” Tapping your index finger on the glass, you noticed how her eyes weren’t glued on yours anymore. A smirk landed on your face. Too easy. “You know what’s the advantage of dating the hero you guys created?”

It was adorable. The way their eye sights immediately focused on you when you dropped a bomb. One that you initially thought they had already found out. Still, you reminded yourself to remain alert and focused.

“You get to pick his little traits and bits of his personality.” Reaching out for one of the pens, you twirled it between two of your fingers. “Good stamina for some nightly dancing too.”

The president’s eyes twitched at such personal remarks.

“Too personal for ya chief?” You crossed your arms on your chest.”I mean, you already know the nitty-gritty of each and every hero. Might as well inform you about the intimate one’s right?”

“Tell us, should we hand over such precious information, what will you do about it?” She asked.

“Nah. I won’t tell.” You tossed the pen to a random person. Your face morphed into one with disgust when he failed to catch it. “I don’t do well with teamwork. I know that a plan is in the making as of this very moment. Yet, you people are still acting as if Hawks hasn’t given you the exact location yet. Almost as if you want him to carry the burden all by himself.”

With a restrained sigh, she took her pen and began to scribble down letters. To add even more insult to the injury, she crumpled the paper and threw it towards you. Catching it with ease, you lifted your hand up and uncrumpled the piece of paper.

“And what should I do with your suited ass if he’s not here?” You tossed the paper back to her. Making sure it would hit her nose. The look on her face, priceless.

“You have no-” “Nah. I’ll come back and kick all your asses.” You waved to them as you dragged yourself out of the conference room. Before closing the doors, you glanced over your shoulder and flicked her off.

The moment the doors closed, you hurriedly exited the building. It was an easier feat knowing you had knocked out every single guard in the vicinity. Though you were already prepared for the worst, you were pretty sure that anyone who would hear of this story would see it as false. Thank gods for popularity polls.

When you were now a safe distance away from the building, you grabbed your phone and called your most recent contact.

“Did you get it?” His voice was deep but still resonant despite it being through a speaker.

“I did.” You surveyed the area making sure that no one had followed you. “I’ll stop by your agency in a while. I’m on my way.”

“Make sure you are not being followed, (Y/N).”

“I know. I know.” You turned to an alley. A shortcut to you knew by heart. “I’m not number 10 for no reason, Todo-san.”

Hearing the number one hero scoff at your little pet name for him made you giggle.

“That chicken has been rubbing off on you.”

“In more ways than one~”

He ended the call. Placing the phone back into your pocket, you picked up your pace and saw Endeavor’s Agency looming in the skyline. From where you were, it would take around 20 minutes.

By the time you arrived, the receptionist merely greeted with you a bow and pointed to the elevators. The ride going up was slower than you wanted. The thought of what was to happen next loomed over you. Dread and a slight hint of panic hit began to creep in. When the doors opened, you were face to face with carpeted hallways and golden moldings on the ceiling.

Knowing where to go, you practically ran all the way there. Pushing the conference doors open, you were met with the familiar faces of all the top heroes. Name them and they were present. Save for one. It sent shivers down your spine when you knew he was surely never coming back.

Taking a seat next to Edgeshot, you gave Endeavor the go signal.

“We have gathered here today to further progress our plans for the coming infiltration of the PLF.” Endeavor began. “Yes, we have slowly begun our preparations but we can only do so much with little information the HPSC gave to us.”

The other heroes nodded in agreement.

“But, (hero name), has managed to obtain crucial information that can improve our pace. The location of their base.”

“2 places. Jaku General Hospital and Gunga Mountain Villa. The former being roughly 8 kilometers away from my little research. One of them might be the birthplace of Nomu’s while the other holds the villains.” You explained.

“For now, we will simply scout the area.” Endeavor added.

The rest of the meeting was a tad dull. There was a big advancement to the plans, from 6 months, it was now pulled down to 4 months. You sighed to yourself knowing that anything could happen at any given time.

The doors of the conference room opened and a bunch of assistants entered. Placing snacks on the table. Your brows furrowed and your stomach churned at the chicken nugget platter placed before you. Clenching your fists, you let out a silent sight and looked away from the food.

In the blink of an eye, you were now surrounded by heroes. Each of them displaying their costumes with pride. Looking around, you saw how some interns had also been chosen to join the raid. Now, you were staring at the building’s walls

“You nervous?” In the last few days of planning, Tsukuyomi and you managed to grow a bond. Hawks had shared stories about his bird intern, seeing him in person made you feel that this student had a lot of potential.

“Frankly speaking, yes.” He answered. “But, if it means ending this once and for all… I am more than willing to brush that thought aside.”

“I can see why he likes you.” You commented. “It’s not everyday he favors an intern over his sidekicks.”

“You are close with Hawks-sensei?”

A slight tint of pink spread through your cheeks. Chuckling at the thought, you felt the drive to rescue your birdman strengthen. Not bothering to give him an audible answer, you merely winked at the student. He wasn’t dumb. He understood right away and gave you a shy smile.

The next thing you knew, heroes began to charge towards the target. Cementos manipulated the area and soon enough the building bow bore a gaping hole that showed the inside. Hearing Edgeshot commanding orders only got you riled up.

You had one mission and that was to locate the number 2 hero. Scanning the floors, you couldn’t see any glimpse of red or even feathers. Stopping on your tracks, you witnessed one of the villains charging his quirk only to be absorbed by one of Tsukuyomi’s classmates.

Both your attentions were stolen when Fatgum called for your companion. Following his lead, the two of you raced towards another entrance.

What you didn’t know was somewhere on another floor, the person you were looking for was finally inching closer and closer towards the sun.

#hawks x reader #hawks mha #hawks bnha #takami keigo #wing hero hawks

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ineffablelabpartners · 4 years

Link

Forgive me, brother, for I have committed a fanfic.

Title: Reconciliations

Summary: During S3E1 (The Price of Power), Hordak makes amends with Entrapta after his outburst, and the two of them decide what to do about Catra. Some of Hordak's leadership choices are slightly called into question.

Warnings: Brief, humorous references to methods of execution?

“You know…there are more efficient ways to execute someone than banishing them to a hostile location.”

Saw. Tweezers. Pliers. Multimeter. Entrapta was in her room, mask down, working with every tool she could get her hair on at once. Her workbench was starting to wobble again, but this time she was pointedly ignoring it. The door opened behind her, and from the ominous shadow that fell across she didn’t have to look to see who it was. He had brought Imp with him.

“Ahem.”

“...” Entrapta’s soldering iron soldered on.

Imp chirruped.

“...After reviewing your research on First Ones tech in the Crimson Waste, I have decided that I am willing to discuss it further.” He was calmer now than she’d last seen him, with something different from his usual demeanor that she couldn't define. “I believe I have come up with a compromise to our disagreement.”

She shut off her tools, but didn’t reply. Imp chirped louder.

Hordak continued, strained. “I may have... overreacted to your request. You approached me at an — inopportune — moment.” He swallowed. “And I...”

Entrapta set down her gadgetry and lifted her mask. She turned to look at him, still not having finished his sentence.

“...had already written my speech for the assembly.” He was holding the datapad she’d left behind with the crinkled map of the Crimson Waste folded neatly on top. A lock of blue hair had escaped his slicked back style and fallen across his forehead. His armor twinkled in the glow of the soft purple lighting she’d recently installed. She bit her lip.

With a screech, Imp jumped off Hordak’s shoulder into Entrapta’s arms, thwapping him in the face with his tail as he did so. “Entrapta,” he said, softer than she’d ever heard that voice say her name before. She giggled.

“Imp, that is hardly dignified.” Hordak stared at the two of them, his eyes a little bigger, as Entrapta embraced Imp and kissed his cheek. His skin was peculiarly smoother than a human’s but still baby soft.

“Have a seat, Hordak.” She gestured toward her purple couch. “Let’s talk.”

“Emily!” Imp said, with Entrapta’s voice.

“She’s helping Scorpia with something before the mandatory assembly - I wasn’t planning on going!”

Using her hair, Entrapta retrieved two fizzy drinks with straws from her personal cooler. Fizzy rations were one of the changes she'd been able to implement to the Horde menu, though her old chefs had refused her offer to come work at the Fright Zone. (She'd even tracked them down with the Sanctum communicator and everything.) The Horde drinks were green without much flavor, but still: fizzy.

Hordak looked at the beverage she placed in his hand the way Scorpia looked at small buttons. He hesitated to sit down, as if he’d never touched anything soft before in his life. Had she ever seen him sit in a chair other than a throne? It was times like these that Entrapta felt better about her own social shortcomings.

“So.” She sat cross-legged next to the caped warlord, whose winged toddler leapt off her lap to perch himself at the highest point on the back of the couch. Hordak’s cybernetics were right there, close enough to touch, but she couldn’t let herself get distracted. First Ones tech (and Catra’s life?) was on the line. “What’s your solution to our tech problem?”

“Since the Crimson Waste has a reputation almost as foreboding as Beast Island...” Hordak handed his own bottle to Imp, who seemed to have a better idea of what to do with it. “I will allow you to send Catra there on a mission to retrieve First Ones tech.”

Entrapta smiled. “Thank you.” Her pigtail draped itself over the back of the couch, curling around Imp, inches from Hordak’s shoulder.

He didn’t smile back. “It must be alone, no other lives at risk,” he grunted. “If against all odds, Catra returns with what we need - she will be pardoned for proving her worth. If she does not return after an allotted period of time, she will be presumed dead and a failure. You will have to come up with a contingency plan should that happen.”

She took a sip from her fizzy drink. “Why do you think she won’t return?”

His ears wiggled, just slightly. “I lost a whole faction to that wasteland 20 years ago, including my most fearsome and competent warrior.” He bowed his head angstily, somewhat undercut by the soda sipping toddler next to it.

“Huntara. I have her file right here.” As difficult as it was to find anything in that archaic filing system. She hair-grabbed a stack of Horde folders from nearby, which Commander Cobalt had assisted her in locating. “However, I’ve noticed more than a few discrepancies between Shadow Weaver’s reports and my own research. Are you sure that her version of events can be trusted?”

“As long as the others believe what she told them, it will serve the purpose that I need.” He furrowed his brow and looked away from the photograph clipped to the inside of the folder. “But your skepticism is not unwarranted; Shadow Weaver did have something of a duplicitous side.”

Despite her difficulty with social signals, Entrapta had picked up on that fairly quickly. “Yet you kept her around for 25 years?”

“The sorceress proved her worth to me with the role she played ending the first Rebellion, but I let her ride off that goodwill for far too long. If Scorpia had shown any connection to the Black Garnet, I would have rid myself of that treacherous witch long ago.” He narrowed his eyes at the tall stack of manilla folders. “For her insistence on paper recordkeeping alone.”

It was almost a joke, but not. “So what are you going to do about her escape?”

“It is too late to do anything.” First Adora, now Shadow Weaver - apparently walking out of this place had less consequences than staying. “The only thing to be done is punish the person responsible, as a message to the others that such failures will not be tolerated.”

Entrapta took another sip. “By sending her away?”

“It is harsh, I know.” He gestured with his big metal arms, the ones she was forever yearning to go to town on with a hex-driver. “I am not a charismatic leader, Entrapta. I cannot inspire love and devotion the way others can. Fear and pragmatism are all I have.”

“And robots.”

“Yes.” His scowl fleetingly turned to a smile. “Had Catra been truthful to me, it would have allowed me to be lenient, as I have been with her before.” Hordak seemed to believe what he was saying, in that moment. He was easier to read than most people. “But I cannot abide both a failure and a liar. It would be repeating the same mistakes made with Shadow Weaver.”

“You know…” she said, after another sip. “There are more efficient ways to execute someone than banishing them to a hostile location.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Firing squad, lethal injection, hanging, electrocution, decapitation.” Entrapta mimed each of these with her hair. “A few more minutes in your atmospheric variable remover would have done it.”

He was making that face again, where his eyes were bigger than his little red mouth. “I thought you wanted me to spare Catra. Are you suggesting that I… cut off her head?”

“I’m just curious, why not? It would be easier. More cost effective. And I’m no social scientist, but I would think it might inspire more… fear?”

“No—” he scoffed, raising a finger. Was that a hint of red on his cheeks? She would have to log this. “—Beast Island is a fate worse than death. Those condemned there have only their own failures to blame for their… failures! It is a much MORE terrifying punishment than… than...”

“Heads on spikes? I’m not sure that’s coming across to your soldiers, though.” She downed the rest of her drink and pulled up the datapad. “78% of cadets over the age of 13 believe Beast Island is a fabrication told to keep them in line.”

“...where did you get that number?”

“Commander Cobalt gave me the statistics from his semi-annual survey.” The Horde school teacher asked a lot of good questions. “He said Shadow Weaver refused to take any of it into account for the cadet curriculum.”

“Beast Island is real,” he growled. His hand grazed her hair as he pushed the datapad away. “I have been there. I will say nothing more.” He folded his technologically advanced arms and looked away.

Entrapta had seen that file as well. The record of the only Horde expedition to Beast Island wasn’t very detailed, but it mentioned Huntara as one of the soldiers who had accompanied Hordak there. She was given the highest of accolades for her service there, only to perish on a mission to the Crimson Waste two weeks later, along with ten other soldiers. Cobalt had some soft science theories about the psychological effects of the trip, but that was far out of Entrapta’s field of expertise.

She inched closer to him. “But we’re sending Catra to the Crimson Waste.”

“We are,” he sighed, giving her a wry smile. “Though I do not expect her to return.”

“I disagree.” She strummed her fingers on the datapad. “My research gives her a good chance of survival.”

“Yes, she may survive. She is more capable than most...” He tilted his head, squinting. “But it doesn’t mean she’ll be back.”

This stung in a way she wasn’t prepared for. “You mean — you think— she’ll abandon us?” Entrapta flipped down her mask. Imp squeaked and bopped Hordak on the head with his tail.

“It is what I suspect others have done.” His ears drooped. “That is why I didn’t want to send her there in the first place. It would be a waste of resources to hunt defectors down in a deadly wasteland!”

Her breath fogged up the inside of the mask. “But then we won’t get the First Ones tech!”

“Entrapta...” he said softly, holding up his hands. “I had rather thought saving your friend from a fate worse than death would be your top priority. I thought that is why you were upset with me.”

“...” A more charitable reading than most people would have given her, but not wrong. She flipped up her mask. “It was. But I wanted the tech too.”

His ears didn’t know which direction to go. “Is there something else you would have me do?”

She thought it over. It was touching that he was willing to let an untrustworthy prisoner go for her, though not entirely surprising given past trends. “No. Catra will come back, if you give her the chance. She’s my friend.”

Hordak pursed his lips skeptically, then nodded. “I will give her the chance, but I will not be kind about it.” He stood, adjusting his cape, then looked at her with a tiny smile. “Will you come back to the lab with me?”

“Yes.” She grinned back. “But first you have to go to your assembly.”

He looked at the time, scowling, and smoothed back his hair. “Let’s get it over with then.”

“Heads on spikes?” Imp said, with a belch.

“No.” Hordak pointed a talon, then offered his arm. As Imp jumped on him, the fizzy drink slipped from his tiny hands. Entrapta’s hair caught it before it could spill all over his cybernetics (somewhere in an alternate universe, the war came to a swift end.)

When they got to the door, Hordak suddenly stopped, turned, and held out his other (Impless) arm to her. Entrapta was halfway to cracking it open to analyze his circuitry before she realized he was offering to… escort her? He seemed just as surprised about it as she was. His ears drooped again, with a hint of pink across his cheeks.

Beaming, she wrapped her hair around his armored forearm, mentally noting every bit of feedback.

“I still need to choose a new second-in-command,” he said stiffly, as they entered the hall.

“Ooh, how about Commander Cobalt? He’s served you faithfully for 25 years and has a degree in military science.”

“I was thinking of Force Captain Scorpia. Someone who would never betray me...”

* * *

Notes:

Presumably, Emily was helping Scorpia hide the body of the prison guard she threw into the abyss (with no consequences.)

Commander Cobalt is the blue fuzzy guy who trains the Horde cadets and also the secret mastermind behind everything.

I'm surely headcanoning against authorial intent with Hordak acknowledging Catra has a chance of surviving the Crimson Waste, but I feel like this whole storyline was a bit of a mess in canon ... so here's me trying to clean it up.

#spop #entrapdak #entrapdak fic #hordak #entrapta #my writing #entrapdak extended

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