#(gritting my teeth) i’m not a people pleaser i’m not a people pleaser i’m not a people pleaser i’m not a people pleaser i’m not a people pl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shirefantasies · 3 months

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Hiiii hru? Can I request like the fellowship with a reader who is like a total push over? Like could be stabbed in the leg and would apologize to the attacker or like could literally be freezing but would offer their blanket so somebody who has slight chills. If you don’t want to that’s perfectly fine 😊 thank you ❤️

Yes you can! As someone who struggled with people pleasing for a long time & am still unlearning a lot, I really feel this! I didn’t go full apologizing for getting stabbed but hopefully this is a good representation of people pleasing behaviors 😅 Warnings: some blood/violence mentions, mental struggles implied

The Fellowship + People-Pleaser

Aragorn

“Why are we stopping,” you ask, “did you not say make haste?” “It cannot have escaped your notice that you were just stabbed,” Aragorn replies, gently urging you down and dabbing with stinging but necessary force around the bloody tear at your leg. His voice is hard to read- colored with wry amusement, perhaps, concern most definitely. His eyes shine at the sight of you and his gentle touch has heat rushing to your face. “Why do you think we would force you to bear a burden like this?” Struck. That is the only way you can describe the feeling, what his words do to you. You fear so greatly being a burden that the others see it as a poor reflection upon themselves. Like you think them heartless. You shake your head. “I’m sorry. I just- I didn’t want to slow us down since you said what you said. Never would I believe you capable of any great cruelty, Aragorn.” He nods. “That is not my intent.” His words are barely above a whisper now. “Now rest, please. We all could use it.”

Legolas

Shuffling behind you alerts you to another presence cutting like lightning through the spiraling clouds overtaking you. Panicking, you sniff and wipe frantically at your face with your sleeve, unglamorous as the gesture is. Straightening, you try your best to shakily apply the mask again, lips curving upward as much as you could will them. “What troubles you?” Legolas. Somehow it has, until this moment, escaped you that climbing into the trees was no promise of solitude when a woodland elf called your company temporary home. “Oh, nothing,” you say, cursing the waver of your tone, “nothing.” Brows furrowing, he stares pointedly as his dark eyes are soft and does not let his gaze leave. “Please. No burden is ever truly solitary.” Gaping, you try to come up with a rebuttal, feel too broken and melted to speak. Legolas sits at your side, leg brushing yours. “When you are ready, I will listen. There is no shame here. If you wish not to speak, I will simply stay.”

Boromir

Boromir's brows knitted at your repeated apologies. Breathy words of regret passed through your lips between waves of pain. Boromir's arms were around you, his steps shifting to guide you onto your back. Your leg was possibly broken, trampled in the last skirmish to great pain, and he had taken up the task of aiding your steps. “You did not ask for this,” his reply cut into your stream of words, “how can you apologize for actions beyond your control? You fought well, now come and rest.” “Thank you,” you manage, gritting your teeth as he lowered you onto a bedroll. “You are so like my brother sometimes,” Boromir chuckled deeply, smiling down upon your form as he unlaced your boots, “you need not prove your worth, you know. I care about you solely for what is in your heart.”

Gimli

“You can do anything! A great warrior lies within you! Every hit you take makes you stronger!” You had opened up to Gimli about the harsh words spoken to you in your past. The way you had subconsciously learned to live by them. Stay the desire to let people in lest they hurt you. It was exhausting, but you had been called a burden before and did not wish to be one again. Thus you told him to use those words again. You were used to them, after all. But all you received from the dwarf was staunch refusal. Kind words. Rousing words. “You remind me of my own kin,” he continued, “no challenge ever stops a dwarf for long. The fact that you spoke anything at all, naturally, is your first act of resistance. Thus now as you realize your own strength you can practice spitting it back in their face!” You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but in the flash of joy something else pierces your heart. Gimli immediately took those words as hogwash. Maybe those lessons had not been lessons at all, but hits just as he said. Maybe there was something to be said for rising better from them instead of lying down.

Frodo

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” you give your characteristic response the moment the others check in on you, unwilling to become the burden they could surely see you as. Seeing as how you gave no strong opinions the others nod and continue on. Taking a deep breath, you walk on as well, at least until an arm falls gently across you in restraint. “Why do you always do that?” Frodo asks, eyes imploring. “Do what?” You reply, unsure what you have done to bother him. “Put yourself down so,” he answers, “act like your say has no value. They would stop for you, you know.” “I…I do not wish to be the reason we slow,” you stammer out, voice quieting. Frodo just shakes his head at your words, hand reaching up to grasp your shoulder reassuringly. “Do not doubt our love for you,” he tells you with a small smile, “after all, it is not a thing that is bought and sold.”

Sam

“Oh, Sam,” you hold back a sneeze, “I love them!” “Really?” He doesn’t look convinced, starting to retract the hand holding the flowers giving you the unfortunate reaction. “Of course, why would I not?” Cocking a brow, Sam shot back “Because my mother was always having a bad time with these lot and you just gave the same twinge of your nose as she did. No need to lie over it, I’d love to find you some new ones.” Your face and head fell. “Sam, I am so sorry, truly I-” “You can’t control it,” he chuckled, “besides, the apology is mine if you felt like you needed to lie. You never have to lie to me, ok? We can work it out together.” His eyes shone and all you could do was smile and nod.

Merry

"No, no, really, take it.” Insisting, you hold out your blanket in a shaky hand as you peer beseechingly into Merry’s eyes. His brows furrow faintly, but no annoyance or even confusion crosses his face, only…concern, a look as though you held out your very soul. “You really don’t need to do that, you know.” Now it is your turn for an expression fading into concern, brows knitting at more than just the chill wind whipping the trees. “Do what?” The hobbit places one hand upon his hip, the other giving an accusing little wave. “Offer up your blanket and think to leave yourself none. I thank you, but really. You have needs, too, you know.” Both his face and tone soften upon those words, punctuated with one step closer. “And they’re no less important.” No one said such things to you. Perhaps they even came with some disbelief, a grate on the way down like a wrongly swallowed pill. But the way Merry said it: it was clear to you he believed it, and that fact alone gave you pause. “O-oh. Alright. Thank you,” you replied softly. “Of course. And if you’re really so concerned,” he gave the rakish smile that always had your heart leaping, “we could always share. If you were comfortable, of course.”

Pippin

“Oh, Pippin, I’m so sorry.” “What ever for now?” No malice colors his voice, only pure amusement and its usual jolly lilt. He peers at you with brows raised and green eyes wide as you glance down. “I’ve got to reach over you really quickly here.” “That’s it?” “Well, I was getting in your way and-” “If that is getting in my way, do your worst. In fact, you don’t have to be sorry. You don’t have to be sorry for accidentally stepping in front of me, either, or not realizing you spoke at the same time as me… wait,” stopping., Pippin gapes at you, “do you think I don’t like you? I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth!” Your heart flipped. How could he even consider that you would think that? You just felt like you were in the way all the time. Apologizing was something you always had done. Just in case. “Oh, no, I just…. Well, I suppose it’s silly,” you trailed off. “Oh, no,” Pippin grabbed your faltering hand with a shake of his head and a grin on his face, “no more apologizing on my watch, alright?”

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #the fellowship of the ring #aragorn #legolas #boromir #gimli #frodo #sam #merry #pippin #ask #anon #requested

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peacht44 · 11 months

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literally screaming for him to wake up and see me and appreciate me for everything I’ve done for us since coming back home to him after the break(up) because he is losing me, I’m getting tired of fighting. And still he is apathetic at best.

Currently in financial ruin for this “man” ama.

Idc if this isn’t want tumblr is for- I literally have lost my entire family due to my decision to come home and try to make it work with him again after what he did to me, they don’t respect me and are keeping their distance. So I have no family of my own blood (just my little fam who adopted me as their own for giving their dad another chance) and exactly 1 friend who lives on the other side of the country. I have no one and nothing currently (other than a sick ass LDR stash necklace dupe on the way 🙌🏻) so forgive my old ass for being a MySpace kid who hated fb and went offline during the tumblr era, I’m just gonna rant here when I need because NOBODY knows me here.

It’s been 8 years since I attempted last, but each and every day lead me further down that path again and my depression sinks deeper and deeper and gets darker and more unholy by the day 😪 I’m too sunny and too bubbly to feel this way god I hate feeling this way. It would be so easy too and then 🤫 all quiet, no more pain physical or metaphysical or even emotional god that would be a dream. I can’t even buy my dad a Father’s Day or birthday gift (both back to back this month) because I threw my whole paycheck on the house we share that he’s refused to pay for (or even work for like physically Have a job for) in almost 2 years.

Where tf did my self respect go?? Why can’t I be the baddie I try to uplift other women to be when they’re down? Why am such a pushover who let’s him get away with murder??

My whole life is falling apart and all I can think is that no one is coming to save me this time. All I have is me and my own back, and even I hate me. I wish so badly I could be someone else, literally ANYONE else, and so I wish even harder for the silence. That eerie quiet to be only pierced by occasional muffled wails that I let out behind my hand clamped over my mouth through gritted teeth with the vent turned as high as it can go where no one can hear me slowly lose every single part of me that made me human, or even just me.

Maybe a nice grippy sock vacation WOULD be just the ticket to getting my mental back on track. At least it would be quieter there, in my head and in my bubble. For now my only comfort are racing nightmare anxious thoughts that play on a loop every minute or every hour of every day, I can’t seem to quieter them or stop a panic attack anymore. I don’t even know how to breathe on my own any more. I am 36 and no better off than living on my own for the first time at 16 again, and all I want to do is d*e, sometimes. Or kill the pathological people pleaser I give all of my energy to being. It’s time to go scorched earth on this Mf but it still won’t make him see me, or love me; or appreciate me for being a GD DISABLED WOMAN HE HAS LET FINANCIALLY SUPPORT HIM FOR 2 YEARS NOW. It’s gaslight gate-keep and hypocrisy 24/7 on my life so maybe it’s time to girlboss my way tf out of it and ghost every living soul I know, pack up my fur babies and flee this hell hole I’ve let my life become again. This Mf couldn’t even bother TO DO A THING for my birthday this year but cry about how he couldn’t afford a gift for me. Not try to earn some cash to even go on a date, just whine about not having the funds and then having the audacity to pass out on me early and let me agonize over every single thing I’ve fucked up in my life lately by diving deep down a cold lane with him again.

Nothing feels real anymore. I don’t even feel like a person. I’m so numb yet so soft and emotional and unstably sad all of the time but all I do is avoid it. Sitting in this pain might kill me, I can’t risk that.

#iawtds

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aizawaskittenwhore · 3 years

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𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦.

𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪 (+𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 18+ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1.5𝘬

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘰𝘺𝘴/𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺/𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘪 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺. 𝘮𝘸𝘢𝘩.

“man, fuck you, the horse you rode in on, and your weak ass dick! just leave me the fuck alone.” you spit, arms crossed as you shoot the man in front of you a glare hot like jet fuel.

𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶:

izuku midoriya is one of the sweetest people to grace the earth

there’s no doubt about it.

but know he is not afraid to put yo ass in a fucking headlock and pound his way into you, voice thick and raspy as he asks you just who the fuck you think you’re talking to.

he’s grown up quite a bit since high school

and refuses to get bitched by anyone, especially his own girlfriend.

a saccharine smile inches across peony pink lips, spreading over porcelain teeth

“you uh... you wanna repeat that, honey?”

you know you’ve made a mistake

he’s got that look in his eye, ravenous and wicked

“look...izuku, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to snap like that—“

“that’s not what i asked. i asked you...if you wanna repeat that.”

would definitely strap your ankles to a spreader bar, reveling in the way you continue to writhe against it

only to cry out in desperation once you realize that the more you struggle, the wider your legs go

or he’ll make you cry as you struggle to form a coherent apology, words choppy from the the remote controlled vibe is sending shockwaves through your heavily sensitive clit

he’d kneel above you, smile wide and innocent as he turns it up to the second most powerful setting, hard-on growing at the sight of your head lolling back while you try to appease him with sorry after sorry

“i-izuku—fuck, fuck! mmh— it’s too much....please, please, ‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it, ’m too sensitive—please just let me make it up to you baby—“

“all you gotta do is say the magic words sweetheart, and i’ll give you what you need.”

yeah, he’s one of those motherfuckers.

“remind me who’s pussy this is, and this’ll all be over with.”

“god, fine!! it’s yours okay! nobody else’s..now please, please fuck me izuku, i need you—“

doesn’t hold back for a second when he’s staking his claim all over your body, a calloused thumb roving over your clit gently, mindful of your sensitivity but edging you closer and closer to a fifth orgasm

happily smears strings of thick, sticky cum all over your stomach to mark you as his

and doesn’t hesitate to lick it off the supple, soft skin of your torso, the milky white substance congealing with transparent slippery saliva

he grasps your face firmly, fingers pushing your cheeks inwards and causing your spit slicked lips to jut out in a pretty little pout

“open.” he mutters before dripping the salty concoction onto your awaiting tongue, a throaty groan rumbling in his chest as he watches you happily swallow every last drop

“good girl.”

the aftercare is immaculate, izuku taking his time to wipe you clean so tenderly, lips pressing against each and every bruise, your body pliant as he whispers sweet reassurances into your sweat soaked skin

“much better now, right?”

you nod, eyes heavy as you sink into the warmth of his chest, hands clinging to him like he could disappear at any moment

“happy i could help you relieve some of that tension honey.”

“but talk to me like that again, and i promise you that’ll be the last time you call anything about me weak, especially how i fuck you. got it?”

prepare to be not only throughly sore the next day, but to have to conceal fingerprint shaped bruises on your hips and thighs

takes pictures of your fucked out face to have for future incidents where you decide you wanna talk like you have zero home training

and isn’t afraid to flash katsuki one or two whenever he gets to talking about how he could take you from him.

𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰:

“so that’s how you wanna act, hm? if you needed some dick you should’ve just fuckin’ said so instead of always runnin’ your damn mouth.”

he whirls you around, pelvis pressing into the small of your back, rivulets of sweat beading at the base of your neck from his close proximity

he’s such a glutton for putting little bitches like you in their place.

blade sharp canines dragging against the curve of your neck, pathetic attempts to maintain your resolve falling from unsteady lips

“the hell’s wrong with you—you already know i’m with izuku...i’m not doing this shit to him again—”

but you were already gone when his lips slotted against yours, body throbbing at the contact

now izuku was a good lover, a giver, a pleaser at heart

always putting your enjoyment above his

but eventually one grows tired of slick tongues and curved fingers, pretty whines and gentle kisses

you wanted “fuck you”s, spit flying along sick expletives hurled at your bowed, desperate figure, sweet sticky semen coating your throat after it was abused and stroked as though you were a piece of plastic.

and as luck may have it, katsuki was more than willing to provide.

yet today you’d had enough, his subtle touches when you passed one another had garnered izuku’s attention; you’d reassured the male that it was nothing to bother with, that the two of you were just coworkers.

at least when his balls aren’t in your slutty fucking mouth, thick bubbled spit dripping onto your home screen as you text izuku that you’ll be home late for “stir-friday” once again.

the best sex was on days like today, when you got just a little too reckless at the mouth

when you needed a not so gentle reminder of who’s leaving you breathless all hours of the night

takes his time with you, fingers teeming with a slight brine as they’re sloppily thrust into your mouth with a “shut the fuck up talking to me like you don’t know who the fuck i am.”

degradation? baby, you’ve met the man.

“wanna act like a bitch, that’s fine. just don’t complain when i leave you limping like one, got it?”

you’re shoved atop a desk, it’s contents forgotten as katsuki latches onto a tit and proceeds to leave mark after mark, striving to rid any trace of your lover

panties tugged to the side, fingerpads waltzing up the length of your—no, his pussy

kisses down your sternum and the plush skin of your stomach, flipping you opposite him before snaking his tongue between your southernmost lips, devouring you like a man starved

but doesn’t let you cum, not yet anyway

“katsuki—please, i need it, don’t fucking tease..”

hates when you whine because it chips at his hard exterior, he’d give anything to pull another cry from you

“beg for it then. you had so much to say earlier, eh? go ahead and put your mouth to better use, fuckin’ slut.”

spanks you while he eats it from the back cause he can

and don’t even get me started on his size kink

lives for making you feel small against his large stature and even larger ego

“damn, you’re tight...thought deku would’ve broken you in a bit more for me by now—”

his pace is angry and unforgiving like his mouth, leaving you no mercy when he finally takes his place between your thighs

“that’s it...take that shit. don’t run...come on, tell me who’s dick you go dumb for, say it—“

“yours! j-just yours, never ‘zuku. fuck! m’ so fucking close please, please—“

cant fill you up like he wants, but settles for painting your body with splotches of white, watching them mix with your now-purpling bruises

and when izuku calls your phone on the hour to ask when you’ll be home, that cocky fuck answers

“relax. your little girlfriend and i are at the office with some reports, she’s so damn uptight...been on my dick this entire time. “

“should probably loosen her up more, maybe she’d be less annoying.”

𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪:

he secretly loves it when you get like this

while dabi loves the rush of tossing around some brainless slut with a thing for fucking mass murderers

pussy was much better when it came with a little resistance, a little push back before he got what he wanted

“dabi come on..let her be. i’m sorry sweetness, this guy botherin’ you?”

his counterpart, keigo, was a top tier scumbag with grade-A looks, words mingling with a dulcet voice that could turn water into wine if he pleased

sienna wings bristled against his shoulder blades as he leaned down, an arm coming across your chest casually, bent over the back of the couch

“don’t call me that shit. actually, both of you are bothering me.” you grit, a hand swatting away tanned nimble fingers that were slowly making their way towards a breast

“see what i mean kei? she’s being a fucking brat. can’t stand bitches like her, always thinking they’re too good for guys like us.”

dabi takes a seat to your left, cyan eyes raking over the curve of your hips ravenously, staples gleaming in the bar’s gentle yellow glow

he was going to have so much fun breaking you in.

“ i think i know what her problem is....somebody just wants a little attention, right? hell, look at how she’s dressed...”

keigo’s eyes have taken on a darker energy, a hand winding around the width of your neck and squeezing lightly

“i don’t want anything from either of you assholes—wait, the hell are you trying to—ah!”

taking advantage of your pliant state, dabi’s hands begin to roam over exposed skin, a scarred set of hands slithering up your top

his abrasive fingers tweak your nipples roughly, rolling them between a forefinger and thumb with a lustful glare

“come on...don’t you want us to make you feel good? tell us you don’t want us to cream you like a fuckin’ twinkie, and we’ll leave your bitchy ass high and fucking dry, just like this.”

you hate them, the last thing you want is for either of these douchebags to be what gets you off

but god do keigo’s lips feel like heaven on earth when they’re against your pulse point like that, and dabi’s profuse experience shows in the way he manipulates your body to make you sigh in ecstasy, fingers slipping past drenched lace with ease to tease your sensitive clit...

“we—we shouldn’t do this out here, someone might see...s-shit, ah fuck—”

“so what? don’t want everyone to see how much you like getting double teamed?” keigo taunts, tongue darting out to soothe the harsh bruise he’d finished sucking into the skin beneath your ear

“nah, i think we’ll take you right here. besides, it’s just us and the boss man tonight. ‘should let him watch though, maybe he’d learn a thing or two about what a good fuck really looks like instead of that hentai shit.”

“so...you in or not? my hand’s starting to cramp.”

you nod, the motion serving at the catalyst for a number of debaucherous things that would soon happen to your body

marking is an absolute must

keigo’s practically feral once he knows you’re his to play with, love bites littering the expanse of your tits, neck, even the inside of your thighs

dabi marks you too, but he’s not nearly as nice as keigo, leaving handprints all over your ass, each one accompanied by a harsh yet tolerable burn

you can thank his quirk for that

they’re sloppy and they know it, dabi’s spit creating web-like strings connecting your pussy lips together, the metal barbell wedged between tongue muscle retreating from beneath your trembling thighs

meanwhile keigo’s reveling in the way your spit coats his dick in an effortless gloss, a hand keeping your head steady as he drives into your throat with reckless abandon

the saliva making its way down through the valley of your breasts while you struggle to breathe, eyes watering in both panic and pleasure as the two use you like a toy

they take turns, metal and heady sweat flood your tastebuds when dabi takes on keigo’s previous stance

dabi certainly makes sure you give his balls special attention. it doesnt enhance his pleasure, he just likes seeing you get so nasty for him.

not so high and mighty when you’re gargling the dick of one of japan’s most wanted, are you?

keigo’s dick reaches depths you didn’t think possible, tip prodding your innermost spots and making you sputter pathetically around dabi’s length, eyes burning as you try to control the heat in your lungs

“nah nah nah, don’t get all teary eyed now—thought it was “fuck us and our weak ass dick”? hm? well this weak ass dick’s makin’ you choke like a two dollar whore, and keigo’s about to pump that sloppy cunt full of cum...still think you’re better than us?”

you’re tossed between the two men like a ragdoll, until your body’s spent and you’re bred so good that you drip with their mix of fluids every time you shift a little

the men don’t hesitate to compliment your endurance, praising you for being “such a good little fucktoy”.

which in dabi’s words, is the closest you’ll ever get to a “sorry for bothering you”.

𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢:

let me tell you a thing or two about shota.

he has no time, or tolerance, for bullshit.

between his atrocious sleep schedule, nightly patrols, and his day job as a high school teacher, he doesn’t have the capacity for mind games

so when you’d snapped on him like that, he did what he felt like was the most logical thing

he left you alone. he wasn’t about to get into some childish argument all because he didn’t give you the reaction you’d wanted over a dress

aizawa’s not a reactive man by nature

so when you’d purchased the sultry number, seams tight and neckline waivering on indecent

he’d merely hummed at the article of clothing in approval, committing the sight to memory before going back to finish reviewing his lesson plans for next week

which to you, wasn’t good enough. you wanted him to exhibit some sort of lust, something that made you feel like you still had him in the palm of your hand

it wasn’t like the two of you weren’t having sex, no not at all. but you wanted to feel like he wasn’t just attracted to you, but craved, desired, was desperate for your touch every now and again

and when he’d given his...lackluster feedback, you exploded, the two of you briefly exchanging words before you’d said that. shota was in no mood to argue, so he excused himself from the room to continue his work

“sorry if i actually want to, you know, feel desired by my own boyfriend? god, it’s like you don’t even look at me anymore.”

that comment stung, even recalling your wounded tone made his heart ache

was he really not paying attention to you?

but, unsurprisingly, the feelings of anger didn’t abate. just what made you think you could play these games with him, the two of you were grown, you knew if you wanted something all you had to do was ask—it made no sense

steel pen tip digging into the hurried scrawl of kaminari’s essay....if you could even call it that, he rose from his desk, relieved his tense neck from the presence of hair by knotting it into a high ponytail

beginning to strip as he made his way toward your shower

you wanted him to look at you? alright. he’d do exactly that, and then some. just remember, be careful what you wish for.

“shota? look... i’m sorry for how i acted earlier. i should’ve just communicated how i felt instead of blowing up on you like that, i just get frustrated with how much you work and how we never see each other, and it makes it hard for me to—mmph!”

he meets your lips with a subdued roughness, hands splayed across your hips, water trickling across stiffened knuckles while he fumbled and scoured for any piece of you he could manage to grasp

“you said you feel like i don’t look at you anymore.”

“lets fix that. i have a proposition for you. if you manage to hold eye contact with me for however long it takes for you to cum, my body’s yours to do whatever you want with.”

“however...look away for even a second, and i’ll have no problem reminding you just how much you can take before you’re begging for me to fuck you. you know how...efficient i can be. sound fair?”

now something he’d alluded to, but never said about this little agreement? there was no way for you to win.

on days where his exhaustion levels weren’t at an all time low, he’d find himself lapping at the slightly acidic, rich nectar between your thighs for hours and hours on end

so what made you think you even had the resolve to maintain eye contact the entire time?

you lose, though that was to be expected

and shota couldn’t be happier about it

now while it’s practically canon that he’s into bondage, let’s switch things up a bit

honestly, he’s the type to love proving a point.

he’ll make you ride his dick, not letting you stop for a second even though he’s practically in your stomach at this point

bad at it? he doesn’t care. your knees are giving out? not his problem.

“sho-please, i can’t, ‘s too big...fuck—“

“damn, and to think i had ‘weak ass dick’ before. now you can’t take it? pick a side sweetheart, your desperation is showing.”

he’s not incredibly vocal in the bedroom as that’s just not who he is

but makes an exception when it comes to making fun of you

“come on, you can swallow more than that, right? tch. you’ve gotten lazy.”

is another one of those “take a photo for future reference” type of people. but he’s respectful of not only your privacy but his own, and keeps it in the hidden photos folder of his camera roll like a sane adult.

he had to learn the hard way about the importance of concealing scandalous materials that one time hizashi was using screen sharing to suggest a new learning course during a staff meeting

only for the blonde to scroll and several pairs of eyes in the room to be blessed (or cursed) with the sight of a rather ecstatic looking woman bent in a position that would make a gymnast blush

also likes to give you sloppy, shallow half strokes to drive you to the point of insanity before spreading your ass cheeks and molding your body to the bed beneath you

“you wanna know what i was thinking about when you walked out with that dress on? hm? i wondered... ‘how long it would take before we used it as a cumrag after i was done with you?’ i thought about doing this.”

oh, and by the way, there’s a mirror above your bed for a reason. but we’ll get into that some other time, won’t we?

#izuku midoriya x reader #bakugo x reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader #aizawa x reader #deku smut #bakugo smut #dabi smut #hawks smut #aizawa smut #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #kittybutmakeitferal #thanks once again for 1k you nasties!

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heauxzenji · 3 years

Note

could you do the nsfw alphabet for atsumu please? thank you :)

Aw shit, here we go again...

NSFW Alphabet: Miya Atsumu

gn!reader focused

A/N: She hasn’t written in awhile but you know what I’m proud of it- lol be nice to me or I’ll leave forever jk I won’t but still be nice to me ily 💕 Atsumu is a menace I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Obviously nasty below the cut so if you’re a kid fuck off

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

He’s not the best, but certainly not the worst. He will take care of you, but… only after he takes care of himself first. Usually that just means he needs to take a shower. Once he does, he’s free to supply cuddles until you both fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

He has abs so solid you could make a sharkcoochie board on them. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

When Atsumu cums… he cums hard. It’s like having an out of body experience- every nerve cell in his body is firing off as he tenses up, digging his nails into whatever flesh he can grab, and grinding his heels into the surface supporting him. He bites down so hard his teeth grind involuntarily as his face contorts in a strained statuesque vision. One low growl from deep in his chest comes out through gritted teeth as he sputters out mixtures of “that’s it,” and “don’t you dare fucking stop.”

The orgasm face of Atsumu Miya is one of the 7 wonders of the world.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

It’s not a secret per se, but he’s been exposed and clowned for eating ass… so he doesn’t wanna talk about it.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

So contrary to popular belief, I don’t think he’s that experienced... he’s just lucky! (Lmaoooo all of his experience is based on like 2 actual people that he maybe got to second base with (he says third but come on we know he’s lying) and then a litany of porn. Poor thing just wants some coochie I AM HERE KING and he has no trouble finding it, he just never seals the deal. He’s someone who just kind of, knows what to do naturally. He’s able to read someone’s body by touch alone, and so he knows what you like right off the bat based on how you react. He might try a couple of things at the start to see what really makes you squirm, but once he’s got it... holy hell has he ever got it.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

I hate to say how easy this was- but I KNOW Atsumu is a guy who prefers doggy. I see him as a hair puller, so this is perfect for him. I also could see him being into mirrors, and this is the perfect position to make you look at what he’s doing to you, especially while he’s pulling your head back by your hair. He especially likes gripping his thumbs into the smalls of your back (he crosses his arms bc saw it in a porn once and he thinks it makes him look cool), and when he’s INTO it, he likes to smack your ass to encourage you.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Is goofy by accident. Like will sometimes try throwing in something new with his normal dirty talk that completely throws you off. He hates when you laugh at him for it, but you find it endearing.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

I’m gonna… say something so controversial yet so bold:

What hair?

And yes I mean that. Smooth. He waxes. Monthly. No hair. (Besides like… legs and armpits… yah he doesn’t touch those) Naked mole rat dick but fuck it he’s Atsumu motherfucking Miya he can do what he wants.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

While he’s not the most... romantic in general per se, he does want to make you feel appreciated. He’s very eager to get his, but he won’t allow himself to unless you have already. It takes restraint, but he cools himself down by having you get on top, or by leaving lingering kisses anywhere he can, saying you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

When he’s away from you he loves to send you videos of himself or FaceTime you. He gets you worked up enough to join him no matter where you are. He just needs to see you, he needs you to see him stroking his cock to the thought of you- he can’t cum without you telling him to.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

I have to get this out but I KNOW he’s nasty. I imagine Atsumu as a huge dirty talker and also someone who’s into spitting. Both of those are just clear in my brain... like he would be pundinng you from behind, spit on your back, and then call you a slut all in 3 seconds flat but the way that you would cream? Ugh insanity he needs to be arrested he needs to be stopped

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Since he’s got money now- he’s a big fan of ordering Uber XLs or even just hiring a driver for a night on the town as a flex. But he especially loves telling his driver to put up the window partition while he annihilates you in the backseat. I just think he’s a fan of car sex in general- it just does it for him.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Loves to hear his name. Whether you’re moaning it or screaming it like it��s the only word you know, he’s always going to ask you who you belong to, and the answer is always Atsumu.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He totally eats ass. He’s just not gonna tell anyone bc he told Osamu ONCE and now his contact name is ASStumu and he lives in fear of that getting out.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Sloppppppyyyyyy. Loves giving ~slightly~ more than receiving, simply bc he loves the sight of seeing his spit dripping down your thighs while he goes down on you. Loves eye contact when you’re going down on him.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

Though I wouldn’t say he’s super experienced, I know he’s relentless. He fucks. Literally just fucks. Not in the sense that he only treats you like a hole bc yikes, but in the sense that he just goes the speeds of fast or faster. There’s no slow with him.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

Yeah. Lots of them. Anywhere, anytime. Particularly for him, a lot of them end up being in his car, simply because you’ll be out somewhere and the mood strikes. He’ll quickly take you out to the car for a few minutes, slut you out, and then return to the function like nothing happened. You’ve had many a quickie in a bathroom or closet in a party as well. When he wants you, he wants you, so he’s not afraid to take you.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Not as much of a risk-taker as people think. Mostly because he wants to protect you. He would hate for someone to see you in such a compromising position… but also, you’ve had your fair share of quickies in the bathrooms of various wedding receptions, so he’s lying.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Can last a decent amount of time, if he spreads it out over multiple rounds. I’m general, he can probably go about 2 or 3 rounds without needing a break. More if you draw out foreplay with him. He’s a pleaser, so really how long he lasts is up to you. He’s got the power and control to hold off on is own release until he’s certain you absolutely can’t take anymore.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

One of those mfs who gets you the mold of his dick as a toy for your birthday for when he’s away because according to him “you’ll be so needy while I’m gone”

I hate him so much but I would use that shit every day he knows what he’s doing I’m so upset

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Speaking of being needy- he loves to egg you on when you are. He knows all the buttons to push, but he’ll never actually make the move until you’re begging. And of course he loves to turn that around in you, hitting you with that “god, ya just can’t get enough of me, can ya?”

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

He’s more of a talker than a moaner. Not necessarily loud in bed- but very, very vocal. Commanding of you in a good way, and will definitely show his appreciation through praise.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Actually has a Cosmo subscription bc he likes trying all the strange and obscure sex positions in the articles. Also likes taking the quizzes, and will casually have you do them with him at breakfast.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

he’s a little on the thicker side. Its probably a good 7 inches, so it’s enough to fill you, add in the stretch of his girth and it’s a good, mild burn when he first goes in, but he fills you just enough without it being way too much. He’s a shower, so he doesn’t get much longer, but you have a lot to work with. He also has a cute freckle on his left inner thigh.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

His sex drive is on the higher end, but really only when he’s in his off season. When he’s actively playing in games, he tries to curb his appetite a bit because he believes in the superstition that sex messes with players’ stamina on the court.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s gonna knock out, but not until he showers. He ALWAYS showers after. The water soothes his muscles and by the time he’s done it’s lights out.

Taglist Starseeds (link in nav to join): @honey-makki @acciobrooms @sen-brainrot @the-3d-sky-sister @minato-hoe @strawberrymakki @prettyforpapiiwa @arixtsukki @freyafolkvangr @milanapolitana @notjasmin @keishinsuke

If ur url is bolded, send me a dm! ✨

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #hq headcanons #hq hcs #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #daisy’s red light district 🚨

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Text

Horny Misanthrope (Nathan Bateman x fem!reader)

Summary: Nathan isn’t the ideal wedding “plus one”. Somehow though, all of that doesn’t matter, when he’s the perfect “plus one” to you. (Angst / argument which becomes fluff/soft Nathan.)

Author’s note: another one that has been sat 90% done in my drafts for an age as I wasn’t sure about it. Could do with a bit more development on it before posting, but, here it is anyway! I thought Nathan deserved to get out of the house for once, and why keep him cooped up any longer :P

Warnings: 18+ for sexual themes. mentions of fingering; arguing; Nathan being insensitive / an ass (his usual self). Language. Alcohol mentions. Family drama. DEFINITE TYPOS.

GIF: @twillight

The only person Nathan Bateman plays well with is himself. Okay - and lately, you. But Nathan Bateman is not the kind of guy you bring to meet your parents, turns out.

Of course he isn’t. What had you even been thinking?!

He looked every bit the ideal wedding date. He looked dapper, suave, and impossibly handsome. He looked adoringly at you. At least, people might interpret his intense, sexual hunger for you as adoration, if they weren’t looking too hard at the way his eyes followed you, or the fact they followed your ass everywhere it went in that dress.

Nathan, however, had spent the whole ceremony - the nuptials of a close family friend- whispering in your ear and jeering at the “embarrassing” sentimentality of it all. He had spent the duration of the speeches trying to discreetly (and then much less discreetly) slip his (deliciously girthy, by the way) fingers in-between your legs, and he had spent the majority of the three-course dinner sitting insulting every single person on your table in one way or another. Including your parents. (Read; especially your parents.)

The worst part, is that he has spent the whole day completely oblivious to your frustrations. You know how he is, of course. He’s... different. He doesn’t see the world like everyone else does. That’s one of the things you love about him, and it’s not as if you expect him to change. It’s just... you thought he might at least make an effort. You thought he might avoid making your auntie burst into tears over her pudding, at a bare minimum.

Were you wishing for the impossible in asking Nathan to behave? Were you being cruel and expecting him to be something he’s not? He simply doesn’t play well with others. Except for when he plays with you... Usually.

Safe to say, it wasn’t going well. The last straw came, however, when the tables were finally pushed back for dancing. Your father had just pulled you aside to ask you what in the hell you saw in him, and then had proceeded to come at you with: don’t you want to find “a nice, stable man” to settle down with instead of - and you quote- “an arrogant, robot-fucking troglodyte? Don’t you think you can do better than a horny misanthrope, sweetpea”? And then, you had pulled Nathan aside, tears of frustration spilling down your face.

You were tired. Tired from having to justify your love for Nathan when all the good things about him were less visible from first impressions, and when he didn’t exactly make a good case on his own behalf.

And then, you were more than tired. You were exhausted. Exhausted because, after defending him to your parents and your family friends, he really had the cheek to come out with: “Are you going to ruin the day by crying right now, honey?”

And, oh boy, that -and the coldness in his tone when he said it- had further tears spilling down your face.

“I can’t help you if you’re going to be emotional about this,” Nathan sighs, trying to gently jostle you towards the restroom by the elbow. “My share prices will plummet if you’re papped crying like this, baby. Why don’t you go get cleaned-up?” You’ll give him the benefit of the doubt this time, and assume that was a vain attempt at humour, because, my goodness, if it wasn’t, then hell... part of you is sure you would tank Blue Book on purpose.

“Well how can I talk to you if you’re going to be a fucking robot?” you bite back. “If you’re not even going to try to understand?”

“Okay, so it’s not going well then,” he says, oblivious. “Did your dad like me, at least?”

“That’s a hard no,” you exclaim in disbelief, and all Nathan does is shrug and smile, exhaling an indignant breath. It’s not that he’s unlikable, per se. The problem is, he doesn’t care -doesn’t give a fuck- if he’s liked or not. Yes, he has a huge ego, but at the same time, he’s the furthest thing from a people-pleaser. It barely occurs to him to make an effort with people - anyone beyond you. But you do care if he’s liked. These particular people matter to you.

All you wanted from today was for your family to see how happy he makes you -weird as that fact is- and for them to start to believe that you really could have a future with him. From the start, they’d insisted that you’d never be anything more to him than a fling, and now... Well, now the whole thing is a mess. It makes it worse that maybe they are right. Maybe you don’t have a future with him, after all.

Nathan opens his mouth to speak but by this point in the day, you don’t want to hear it. You raise a palm silently as tears pool into the corner of your eyes all over again.

“No! Don’t say anything,” you say defeatedly. “You’ll just weevil your way into my head and turn everything around.”

He clamps his mouth shut, and instead he reaches his hand out towards your arm.

“Don’t touch me either. You can’t fix everything with that tongue and those fingers of yours.”

“You could let me try though?” he flirts despite how misplaced it is, ticking up his eyebrow suggestively.

You fold your arms and stamp your foot on the floor in frustration. Is he even listening to you? “Nathan!” you plead, begging him to acknowledge you.

“Okay. Okay,” he surrenders, reluctantly. “Help me out here. What did I even do wrong?”

“Everything,” you sigh, tired that he just can’t (or won’t) see it.

He bristles at that, and lifts his glasses to massage his eyes and brow in frustration with the pads of his fingers. He lets out a hearty sigh, as though he’s tired too. As though you’re not even worth this hassle.

“If this is about your aunt, it’s not exactly my fault she’s such a passionate fan of Donny fucking Osmond. Don’t you think she might be a little overinvested, huh?! Maybe that’s why she cried into her fucking ice cream?”

Overinvested? That’s rich, coming from the guy who’s relentlessly obsessive.

“It’s not the Donny fucking Osmond comment,” you bite through your teeth. “It’s the way you spoke to her. You just...” you wave your arms around in the air, gesticulating angrily. “You’re rude to people. Dismissive. You mocked the whole ceremony, you kept trying to feel me up the whole time, you insulted my entire family. And my dad, Nathan. You made my dad hate you so much that he called you an arrogant, robot-fucking, troglodyte and a horny misanthrope.”

You growl as Nathan’s mouth tips into a lopsided smile.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! It’s not a fucking compliment!” you huff, raising your arms into the air and slapping them back down again, defeated, before bringing up a single finger to wag in his direction, spitting your words out now. “And don’t you dare say anything about him being upset that I call you Daddy, because I will fucking end you.”

Nathan supresses a full-blown smile- at least, he tries, he really does.

“Honey?” he says more softly, at least avoiding riling you any further. “You know all this about me. I’m not sentimental. I say what I think. I’m... essentially a horny misanthrope.” Oh, fuck, he’s adopting that, isn’t he? He fucking would. He says it with pride already. “But... is that so bad? Didn’t we kinda bond over our enjoyment of fucking each other and avoiding everyone else?”

Your anger dissolves into tears which brim in your eyes.

“Yes,” you admit, burying your face in your hands.

“Then what is it I’m missing?” he says, sounding as exasperated as you feel.

“I thought you wanted to be part of my life, Nathan. That’s what you said. But... if you don’t want... this? Then what are we even doing? I make an effort for you at all those shitty business galas, you know. And believe me I don’t like the sexist dudebro CEOs I have to rub shoulders with... but I make an effort because it’s important to you, and you’re important to me. I just wanted the same from you.”

“I thought you liked those galas,” he frowns, missing the point all over again. Why are you even surprised anymore, honestly?

You raise your hands in the air in frustration and pace away from him, further out of the view and earshot of the other guests. He follows. By this point you aren’t even sure if you want him to follow.

“Yeah, of course you think so. Because you’re too busy having your ego massaged and winning awards to notice. And because I make an effort. I don’t even make your rivals cry into their pudding.”

Though you admit, even as you say it, that can’t imagine Musk weeping into his dessert because of you, even if you tried. Maybe your auntie is a little overinvested.

“The fucking aunt thing again? For real? Fuck’s sake,” Nathan says, gritting his teeth. “Fine, don’t come to the galas again. Settled.”

“Fuck, Nathan? It’s not about the fucking galas! Are you being purposefully obtuse?”

“No,” he growls, clenching his jaw tightly.

“Makes a fucking change,” you say.

“I wanted to be here,” he says adamantly. “I just wanted to be with you. All this other shit doesn’t fucking matter to me,” he states, sweeping his hand through the air, gesturing around him.

“That’s exactly my point! I’m not asking you to gush over the fucking floral arrangements. We can head back to the suite later and you can bitch all you like about how schmaltzy this whole fuckin’ thing is. But the problem is, I know you can be charming when it’s something that matters to you, Nathan. I’ve seen you schmooze investors, and partners. And this matters to me,” you say, stabbing your finger against your own chest, and then releasing a pent up breath. “It matters to me. That’s all I’m trying to tell you. I guess you just have to decide if I matter enough to you, or not.”

You are greeted by silence as he sets his jaw again, tendons slipping over bone, his gaze stern and impenetrable.

Fucking great. Just about sums it up.

You simply exhale an indignant breath.

You are tired.

Tired of this.

Your body sags. All of the fire saps from your voice, and you reach into your purse, your tone muted and dull. Unfeeling. Like him. Like one of his machines.

“Look, Nathan, if you don’t want to be here, here’s the hotel key,” you say, slipping the fob into his palm. “Go away if you like. If you don’t want me, and all my human baggage, feel free to build yourself another fucking robot.”

You throw him a cold glance and you sweep away into the bathroom to wipe your tears away, and then to repeat the cycle by crying a few more.

By the time you surface again, Nathan is gone.

Despite how much it hurts you, you smooth your features and venture back into the throng, trying your best to put a brave face on it, for the happy couple’s sake. Nathan’s an obvious miss, to all of the guests in there who wonder why you are suddenly without your eccentric, billionaire boyfriend. But, most of all, he’s an obvious miss to you. To you, he’s simply your boyfriend, and you would have liked him by your side today. Today and all the days following, if you’re honest with yourself.

Still, perhaps he did play best alone. Perhaps Nathan just wasn’t suited to being anyone’s plus one; for weddings or for life.

You plaster a smile on your face as you link back up with an old childhood friend of yours, and leave your personal dramas to one side to concentrate on the day at hand... and, you have to admit, it does go a little more smoothly without him.

***

It is an hour or so later when you catch a glimpse of Nathan re-entering the room, out of the corner of your eye. You are shocked to see him again. You had expected him to retire back to the suite for the rest of the night, and to take the edge off his sorrows with the (entire) contents of the hotel mini bar.

Your stomach clenches, and you hope desperately that he hasn’t, in fact, done exactly that; raided the hotel mini bar and subsequently come back, determined to raise a scene.

You tense-up as you watch him beeline determinedly toward your father -the last thing you needed was for your dad to add “drunk” to his list of unkind descriptors of your man- and you watch the initial scene unfold from behind your fingers; however, you’re shocked when Nathan seems to politely approach the older man, locking eyes with a wide, charming smile. He almost looks... deferential? Apologetic? Not words you’d ever think to associate with Nathan Bateman.

From what you can observe, your father looks sceptical, and appears to respond brusquely at first; but you are shocked when Nathan extends a hand towards him and they shake firmly, as if reconciling. You watch slack-jawed as Nathan whisks your father to the bar to buy him a drink -declining one of his own- and you are especially surprised when you see the two of them engaged in what looks - from a distance, at least- a lot like a pleasant conversation.

You then watch, still slack-jawed, and feigning interest in your own company’s talking points and pleasantries, as Nathan circulates around the room, appearing to gradually make peace with everyone he upset earlier. Even reaching out to others he didn’t speak with before. Chatting happily to the bride and groom.

Has he made a robot version of himself? (If so, can you keep it?)

After a while, he finally meets your eyes from across the room, and he holds the connection for a moment, his gaze travelling over you from head to toe -but not hungrily, like usual; softly somehow, in a way which makes you feel revered and almost like you are floating. Like you are the only thing he can see in the room. The way he’s looking at you practically steals the air from your lungs, and then, as quickly as it came, he unceremoniously dips away again, to continue determindely on with his act of penitence.

Suddenly you feel the loss of him all over again.

He circulates around so many people in the room, until finally he comes to you, with a warm, broad hand resting on the middle of your back. Back to your side. The one person he has yet to make peace with, and the most important.

He comes over to you, looking every bit the ideal wedding date. He looks dapper, suave, and impossibly handsome. He looks adoringly at you.

“Can I borrow you, for this dance?” he asks, his usually calculating, inpenetrable eyes somehow softer and deeper.

The look he’s giving you almost makes you feel as though you are meeting him for the first time and being swept off your feet all over again... which, now that you think about it, never actually happened the first time... unless a hot, urgent fuck with your face being rammed into his keyboard counted as romance? To be fair, maybe it did, in Nathan Bateman Land.

“You sure, Bateman? It’s not disco,” you say, your lips curling up into a gently teasing smile as you draw attention to the cheesy power ballad being played. “Sure you’ve got the moves?”

He simply nods at you, and extends his hand to you, and you let him lead you away into the floor of gently swaying couples, bathed in the fragmented light of a glitterball.

He wraps an arm firmly around you and tugs you close to him, and his other hand clasps yours gently in his as he rocks you, in time to the music. It is so unlike him that you open your mouth in disbelief to question it, and yet, Nathan is the one to speak first, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if his coming words are an effort.

“I’m... sorry,” he says, and although it seems to have pained him, his apology sounds genuine.

“Why, what did you say to my dad this time?” you idly tease, even as you genuinely wonder what he has been up to.

“Hi. I’m a little weird and intense,” he relays. “I’ve lived in a concrete house underground for a couple of years. We got off on the wrong foot, buddy. Let me get you a beer. Tell me more about your daughter. Did you know how fucking much I love her?”

You feel a surge of emotion when his voice cracks during his final sentence, tears gently swelling in your eyes. Sometimes, you just don’t know if Nathan feels things... aside from in the crotch area - it’s pretty clear he feels things for you there. With his emotions, he’s generally bottled-up and withholding, and it feels really good to hear it out said loud like that.

He loves you.

“Were those your exact words?”

His mouth quirks up and he bites down playfully on his lower lip. “I’m paraphrasing, honey.”

You nod gently in understanding. “Okay. Well, why the change of heart?” you ask him, as he circles you majestically over the floor.

His brow furrows again, and he runs the pad of his thumb delicately along your jawline. “No change. Just realised. I can replace most of the people in my life with robots. But I can’t replace you.” He thinks for a moment. “I need you to know you’re important to me. That I want this. Days like this with you.”

The intensity of him destabilises you, and so you reach for humour as a defence. You throw your eyes around the room at the flowers and the decorations and the whole cheesy spectacle. “You want all of this? I’ll remember to play you some Celine Dion when we get home then.” Your tone is obviously teasing, and you expect him to balk at the notion of any of this. Including, and especially, the notion of marriage.

But, if there’s anything Nathan can be described as -your dad’s unkind descriptors aside- it’s unpredictable. Surprising.

“Honey, we won’t get married like this, give me a fuckin’ break.”

Your heart is beating pretty fast all of a sudden. A tentative happiness is blooming within your chest. Did he just hint at what you think he did?

“How would we do it?” you venture, biting down on your lip to supress the widest smile of your life. “Robot officials?”

“Up on the glacier, maybe. The fucking... bare minimum by the way of guests -if you’re insisting on anyone at all beyond the robot officials, that is. I’ll allow 3 people tops.”

You draw a lopsided flash of teeth from him as you laugh warmly.

“Generous of you,” you say, still smiling, looping your arms around his neck, and playing fondly with the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck.

“You could wear snow boots,” he continues, “and then I could do you up against a tree.” He thinks a moment more. “Would be romantic. In the moonlight, maybe.”

You really can’t help but smile now. Nathan always is a little bit contrary. A little bit different. And he may not be the ideal wedding guest, but he’s your ideal plus one.

“Nathan Bateman,” you say in disbelief, as he dips his lips closer towards yours. “You do have emotions, after all.”

Tears fill your eyes again like jewels- happy tears this time though.

“Careful, honey. I’ve told you- if you get papped crying, BlueBook tanks. Then there’ll be nothing left for you by the time of the divorce.”

You throw him a gentle faux scowl, dismissing his comment.

Happily, you let your scowl fade into a soft, cautious smile. “Nathan. You want this? Really? Us, I mean?”

“Like I said,” he admits softly. “Can’t replace everyone with robots. Definitely can’t replace you. So, if I have to talk to a bunch of losers every now and again for you...” he nods with conviction. “I’m in.”

You bat his chest with your palm.

“Nathan!” you scold, earning another lopsided flash of teeth from him, but there’s no true malice behind it. Unless...

Unless you can think of a way you’d like him to make it up to you.

“Ah, shit. Ok, I messed up again,” he confesses, sucking air between his teeth. “Probably shouldn’t have called your family losers. But, honey,” he purrs, and you know that familiar lust-infused tone all too well. You note that his hands have gradually been wandering further and further down your back too - holding you more tightly. “Did I fix it enough for you to let me fix the rest with my lips?”

“Yes,” you nod, your voice suddenly breathy.

He dips his lips towards yours, tasting you as if he can’t resist you. Kissing you as if no-one is watching. But it’s not hungry, like usual. It’s not overty sexual. It’s adoring. He kisses you and you feel revered. He kisses you in a way that would make anyone looking think the two of you belong together. That each of you is the perfect plus one to the other.

You melt into his kiss, and when you pull away there is a gentle sparkle in his eyes too. Not like starlight; no. His emotions are hidden further in the depths of him. More subtle. More subdued. But still equally dazzling. Something like the wash of moonlight upon deep waters.

When you look at him, hungry, he cocks a single eyebrow at you.

There’s the Nathan you know and love. There’s that wicked glint in his eyes, returning yours.

“Holy shit. Did I fix it enough for you to let me take you outside and finger you in the orchard?” he asks, voice deep and wonderfully dirty.

“We’ll see,” you say, ticking-up an eyebrow in turn, and you’re surprised when his expression grows serious again, momentarily.

“Just so you know. It’s the flowers and the frills and the fucking pretentious shmaltz I don’t like. But, if you wanted it, I’d do it for you.”

“Really?” you say, eyes somehow still shining.

“If it’s really that fucking important to you, then yeah.” He takes a deep breath, as if his next words will take effort. “The idea of being with you forever is... terrifyingly okay, actually,” he says, and although the words were hard to say, Nathan only ever says what he’s thinking. That’s one of the things you love about him.

You love him as he is, and you wouldn’t want him to be someone he’s not.

You scrunch your nose up in dismissal, suddenly knowing exactly what you want. “Nah.”

“Nah?”

“Your way sounds perfect for me, Bateman. Mountain wedding and a bang against a tree?” you smile. “Don’t you know I’m just a horny misanthrope too?

He smiles right back at you, and it’s loving as much as it is devilish. “That’s why we’re perfect for each other, I guess.”

“Now, come on,” you giggle deviously, darkly, leading him by the hand. “Let’s ditch these losers and you can fingerbang me in the orchard”

Nathan follows you gladly, and his eyes definitely follow your ass in that dress.

He might not be everyone’s favourite wedding guest, but right now, you could care less. He is your favourite, and that’s all that matters.

What’s more, the idea of being with him forever? With Nathan Bateman? Well, it is... terrifyingly okay, actually.

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman #oscar isaac #ex machina #ex machina fanfic #nathan bateman blurb #nathan bateman fluff

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psychedelic-ink · 3 years

Text

all i want for christmas is you.

This is my entry for @quirkyseastone ‘s Naughty and Nice evet! Of course I went with a naughty prompt xD This was a fun one to write...

Prompt: Person A surprises Person B with one more gift to unwrap—Person A wearing something quite tempting to rip off.

Pairing: Sanji Vinsmoke x fem!reader

Genre: Smut smut smut

Word Count: 1892 k

Warnings: Pegging, femdom, sexy lingerie, fingering

You weren’t expecting much when you entered your shared bedroom. Frankly you were excited to enjoy a nice cup of hot cocoa with everyone else therefore when Sanji asked you to meet him in twenty minutes you couldn’t help but frown. But you complied anyway, you couldn’t say no to his adorable face, especially not on Christmas eve.

Placing your hand gently on the door knob, you turned it and opened the wooden door with a creak. When you saw him, your jaw fell to the ground, your eyes widened with shock.

Sanji, his legs spread, was laying on the bed, his private parts barely covered with the red thong that he was wearing. His back was pressed against the wall, one hand was on his mouth as the other was on his semi-erect cock, rubbing himself over the smooth red cloth. His cheeks were a bright red and you could hear soft moans slipping from his lips.

Quickly you stepped inside and closed the door. When Sanji saw you he removed his hand from his mouth and gave you a nervous smile, still rubbing himself, he spread his legs further.

“Surprise…”

Your lips felt incredibly dry as you continued to stare at him, moving towards the bed you noticed that his chest was covered with a comically large red bow, it covered his nipples and breasts. You licked your lips as you felt something starting to stir up inside of you, your palms itched at the thought of untying the bow and revealing his chest.

“Sanji what are you doing?” you asked, your breath feeling heavy.

“Well, you always say that you wanted to try...something else with you know….” he averted his eyes as you raised an eyebrow. “You know the thing.”

Oh...he means the strap on.

A wide smile spread across your lips, you climbed on top of the bed and it dipped under your weight. Between Sanji’s legs you put your arms each side of his chest and looked down on him, you could feel him heating up under your gaze, you couldn’t believe that he was allowing you to do such a thing. He was such a people pleaser.

You leaned in and softly placed your lips onto his flushed cheek, leaving open mouthed kisses you went down towards his neck, Sanji bit his bottom lip and involuntarily his hips bucked up, you could feel his hand still rubbing himself under you. It was intoxicating really, seeing the person that made you scream his name over and over again being so submissive.

You could get used to seeing this side of him.

“You look so sexy in that lingerie,” you whispered, your breath ghosting over his warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.”

You hear him let out a nervous, breathy, chuckle.

“Well it is christmas after all,” you feel his fingers on your chin and he lifts your head up so you could look at him. “Besides I would do anything for you.”

You shivered at his words and he noticed, with a smile, he lifted himself up and gave you a small kiss on the lips.

“Are you going to just stare at me all night or are you going to fuck me already?” he teased.

“Famous last words.”

Quickly you hopped off of bed and put on the strap on, size wise it was smaller than Sanji so you were positive that he would be fine, you grabbed the bottle of lube and climbed on top of the bed once again. Sanji was on his knees now, his eyes went between you and the strap on. With a devilish smirk you came closer to him, your lips an inch away from his face, the tip of the strap on touched his abdomen. Gently you touched the ends of the bow with your fingers, slowly you pulled it, the red cloth gently slid down his body, revealing his pecks.

“You remember the safe word right?” you asked as you tongue danced along his skin, traveling down towards his packs.

“Y-Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“Creme brulee.”

“Good.”

With one hand you start to toy with one nipple as you sucked the other one. Sanji placed his hand on your head and his nails gently grazed your scalp, soft shines left his lips as your tongue went in circles around the erect nipple. You pulled,pinch and rolled his nip between your fingers, you were pleased with yourself as his moans gradually became louder, he truly has sensitive nipples.

“Ahh...y/n…”

With a pop you let go of his nipple, one last time you give him a questioning look, asking him if he was sure. Hi cheeks a soft shade of pink, he looked away as he nodded. Before you could say anything Sanji turned around and got on all fours, lifting his ass up in the air he buried his face into the pillow.

You pulled the red thong down and opened the bottle of lube. You poured the cold substance on your hand and on his ass, he hissed when it touched his warm skin. Spreading the lube across your fingers, you started to massage his hole, slowly you pushed in two fingers. It was tight, soft muffled whimpers left Sanji as you waited for him to adjust, then you pushed a little bit more. You didn’t want to rush and hurt him so you continued at the same pace, stopping and pushing, inch by inch your two fingers went deeper inside him.

When they were completely sheathed inside, you slouched over him and left open mouthed kisses all over his back, you could feel him relax as your lips danced along his warm skin.

“Are you okay?” you muttered.

“Yeah. Go on.”

With two nimble fingers inside of him, scissoring and stretching him open, you massaged his walls. You could feel him twitching around you, With your free hand you grabbed his cock. It was ridiculously hard as you massaged up and down, his muffled moans grew louder as you pressed his slit with your thumb. Starting to feel better about yourself, you slowly start to thrust your fingers in and out of him, continuing to go up and down his erection with the hand that wasn’t preoccupied with his prostate you could feel your fingers becoming stickier with each move.

Your breathing became heavier, your heart pounding in your chest, your arousal grew. You nibbled Sanji’s back, you wanted him, you wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to hear him repeating your name over and over again.

You wanted him to quiver underneath you.

“Sanji,” you breathed out. “I want to put it in.”

Silence followed.

“Sanji,” you said again, this time a bit louder. “Tell me you want this.”

“I do,” he replied, faint as a whisper. “I want you to fuck me y/n.”

You placed one last kiss on his hip bone before pulling out your fingers, straightening up you poured a generous amount of lube on the plastic cock, aligning it with Sanji’s hole you pushed in the tip. When a pained groan reached your ears you immediately stopped.

“Go on,” Sanji grunted. “It’s just a bit bigger than your fingers.”

Inch by inch the dildo disappeared into him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, when it completely disappeared you placed your hands on Sanji’s back and stroked him.

“How do you feel?” you asked, arousal and genuine concern lacing your words

“It hurts a bit but I feel good.”

Those were all the words you wanted to hear. Pulling your hips back half way, you snapped them forward. A scream of pleasure echoed inside the room as Sanji’s back arched up, his face finally free from the pillow.

His voice turned you on further, your hands squeezing his hips, you started to gain speed as you continued to thrust into him, his back formed a perfect arc, he looked so beautiful and his sweet moans were music to your ears.

“Sanji, I want to see you fa-”

“No.” his answer was short and straight to the point.

“Why?” you asked, slowing down. “Don’t you feel good?”

“I do...it’s just...embarrassing.”

A soft smile formed on your lips, he was so cute. Slowly rolling your hips, you bit your bottom lip as another moan was torn away from him.

“Please,” you asked again. “I want to see the man I love.”

Silence fell only for a moment before Sanji turned to lay on his back instead, he still would look at you, his cheeks beet red. You gently placed you hand on his cheek and caressed his burning skin with your thumb, leaning in you placed your lips over his. It was meant to be a kiss to calm him down, a sign that he could trust you.

But apparently Sanji had other plans.

Sanji captured your lips in a greedy kiss, sliding his tongue into your warm mouth, he licked and sucked on your warm muscle, you moaned into the kiss as he continued to explore your mouth. Again, you started to move your hips, cutting his exploration short, Sanji broke away from you as he mewled.

“Fuck,” he grunted between gritted teeth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Licking your lips, your thrust became harder, faster and more calculated. You searched for a certain spot, a button, you slightly changed the angle of your hips and slammed into him.

“AH! Y/N!”

Found it.

Hitting the bundle of nerves over and over you slammed your hips into him. Sanji shouted your name as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face, his blond hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, his eyes squeezed shut, his lips parted a mixture of moans and your name slipping from them and his cheeks a bright red. Truly a sight for sore eyes.

“Fuck, Sanji.” you moaned out, crashing his lips into his.

The lewd noises of you slamming into him filled the room, your tongues dancing along each other, his cock bouncing between the two of you, wetting you both with precum. Then Sanji parted from you, your lips connected by a single string of saliva, he gaze at you between half lidded eyes.

“I’m going to cum.” he breathed out.

His back arched off the bed as his orgasm hit him full-force. He was barely aware of his body, he could only feel the overwhelming sensation washing over him; it was warm and delicious. His toes curled as he pulled you closer to him, warm thick strings of cum shooting all over your stomach, slowly you pulled out of him. You were breathless, as Sanji came down from his high.

He fell back onto the bed, pulling you along with him, he was still trying to catch his breath as he buried his face into your hair.

“That was...amazing.” he said, his voice low.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you chuckled. “I would like to do that again.”

“Not soon I hope,” he placed a kiss on your head. “I’m probably going to be sore for a while.”

“Awww.” you pouted.

“Don’t worry,” Sanji laughed. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be able to take care of you my love.”

“My hero.”

#seastones naughty and nice #demonetize #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #sinful #demonetized #sanji vinsmoke #sanji x fem!reader #naughty prompt #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #sanji vinsmoke x reader

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harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

speechless // h.p

Summary: Can you do a Harry Potter x reader where reader is exactly like Richie Tozier and she defends him from Draco and his Slytherins? And Harry falls in love with her from then and everyone is teasing him?

Warnings: language ofc!!!

Word Count: 6k

A/N: ok first off I cannot express my love for Richie Tozier enough. he’s a precious baby and I love him. also I’m so close to my next hundred! thank you all! (gif isn’t mine) xxxx

—

“Oi, mum sent me a package!”

Ron peeled open the box in front of him, repeatedly hitting Hermione in the ribs as he ripped the paper off the box, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning.

“I hope it’s a wig,” you piped up, “Because something really has to change about your hair.”

Ron glared at you, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor and kicking it under the table, “Ha, hilarious.”

He continued to rip at the box, eventually managing to tear it open. His eyes widened, his smile falling shortly after.

“Oh, is it a picture of yourself?” you pursed your lips and nodded condescendingly, “That’s the only thing that could have made you look so depressed.”

Hermione and Harry burst out laughing, however Ron kept a solemn expression as he took out the contents of the box, which happened to be a very old pair of dress robes — the collar was off-white and frilly and the thick sleeves were clearly moth-eaten. You put a hand over your mouth to hide your laughter, not wanting to make Ron’s mood any more sour than it was at that moment.

“Mum sent me...a dress?” Ron’s voice was defeated as he stood up, holding the dress robes at their full length.

“Wow,” you struggled to hold your laughter back, “I didn’t think anything could get worse than your hair but that’s awful.”

“Is there a bonnet?” Harry joined in on the teasing and reached into the package, taking out what appeared to just be a frilly mess, “Aha!” You grinned at Harry’s pleaser reaction.

Ron scowled at the two of you, walking away from the table and approaching his younger sister, “Ginny, these must be for you.”

Hermione started giggling, catching Ron’s attention. He peered back at her, silently asking what her problem was.

“They’re not for Ginny, they’re for you, they’re dress robes.”

Ron’s face lost all colour, making the situation a million times more amusing for you. Harry continued teasing his friend, Ron becoming more agitated by the minute. You tuned out the conversation where Hermione explained to Ron that they were dress robes, and focused on the breakfast plate in front of you, loving how every now and then Harry would nudge you and make another joke.

Ron stuffed the robes back in the box, wanting to hide them from the eyes of fellow students. Most of the Gryffindor table had seen them by now, everyone had a good laugh, but the last thing Ron wanted was to catch anyone else’s attention.

So, naturally, that’s exactly what happened.

“Weasel, what was that?”

The four of you turned your attention towards Draco Malfoy, who sauntered over to your section of the Gryffindor table with his goonies by his side.

You immediately fought the urge to stand up and punch him in the face — a natural urge when around Malfoy.

“I guess considering how poor your family is, those awful dress robes are all you could afford,” Malfoy smirked at Ron’s flushed face, which was now facing the floor.

You stood up, “Oi, we didn’t ask for a conversation with an arrogant asshole today.”

Malfoy’s eyes shot daggers at you, Crabbe and Goyle flexing their ‘muscles’ as if trying to warn you, “How dare you—”

“—talk to me, yeah, I’ve heard the speech before,” you cut him off, crossing your arms across your chest, “Now, leave, thanks. Seeing your face made me lose my appetite.”

As if rendered speechless, Malfoy rolled his eyes and stormed off, followed by his two shadows. You smirked and sat back down, continuing to pick at your breakfast silently while Harry, Ron and Hermione smiled at you.

“What’re you all staring at?” you asked, not bothering to look up.

Ron shook his head, “I reckon I’ve never seen Malfoy speechless before.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s a gift, I leave people speechless.”

The three of them laughed, the conversation going back to normal as you finished off your breakfast, mentally preparing for another loooong day of classes.

— —

“There’s gonna be a ball?” you scoffed, turning to Hermione wide a bewildered expression, “We’re expected to dress up? Oh, the nightmare.”

She tried to stifle her smile so McGonagall wouldn’t call the two of you out, “It’s not horrible, is it? I think it’s about time we do something fancier here.” She glanced quickly over at Ron before turning her attention back to you. But, being as attentive as always, you caught her not-so-subtle glance.

You widened your eyes, faking a gasp, “You already know who you want to go with, don’t you?”

She shushed you quickly, trying to make sure no one heard your outburst. You could see the blush rise to her cheeks, already giving you the answer you needed. You knew damn well she had feelings for Ron, but she really did try her hardest to hide them.

“Y/N! Don’t just be blurting out stuff like that,” she forced a neutral expression, “And no. I don’t know who I want to go with. Nor does it matter.”

You nodded, not believing her, “Whatever answer floats your boat, I guess.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “Well, who do you want to go with then?”

You turned away from her, eyes subconsciously darting towards Harry — who was so zoned out he didn’t even notice your glance — and turned back to Hermione, “No one. No one’s good enough, of course.”

She rolled her eyes, “I call your bluff.”

“Well call whatever bluff you want,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and turning away from her to face McGonagall, “Can’t fight the truth.”

She didn’t press the subject any further, but continued to peer at you through the corner of her eye, thankfully missing every time you looked over at Harry.

You couldn’t deny, Harry Potter was a catch. He was cute, fun to be around, and had recently fought off a dragon. I mean, the whole package, right? It wasn’t hard for you to develop a crush, the feelings came so naturally.

However, you were fairly certain the dark haired boy didn’t feel at all the same about you. He never showed interest, nor did he go out of his way to be with you. It stung a little when you’d catch him watching the perfect little Cho Chang make her way through the Great Hall, but you weren’t going to let it bring you down. He wasn’t yours, after all.

“Now, next time we meet I will be giving you dance lessons—”

You had finally tuned back in to what McGonagall was saying, trying your best to seem as if you hadn’t just floated off.

“—So, the rest of your class is a free period.”

You stood up hastily, grabbing Hermione’s wrist and walking over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, the two of them standing up and grumbling about dancing.

“Boy, oh, boy,” you let go of Hermione’s wrist and placed your hands on your waist, “A dance, huh? What’d ya think about that, Ronald? You gonna ask anyone?”

Ron’s face went blank and Hermione stomped discreetly on your foot, telling you that you had overstepped your boundaries. You hoped she’d forgive you for this.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Ron shrugged, looking between you and Hermione. You were destined to set those two up, nothing was going to stop you.

“You sure? C’mon, handsome lad like you’s gotta find a date. And you Hermione, you’re, ya know, smart and fun, don’t you want to bring a date as well?” you grinned, knowing damn well how uncomfortable you were making them. They both shifted awkwardly, stealing glances back and forth, none of them knowing what to say next. Ron’s feelings for Hermione were just as obvious, really.

“Well, I’ve made things weird, haven’t I?” you smirked, placing your arm around Harry’s neck. You ignored the way goosebumps formed at the contact, choosing to believe it was from how warm his skin was.

“Yes, you have, thanks,” Hermione spoke through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at you.

“Apologies,” you bowed slightly, “Let’s leave them be, Harry.”

Harry, laughing and sharing a confused expression with Ron, followed you out. You took your arm away from him, stealing a glance back to see that Ron and Hermione were still standing in awkward silence, and turned into the hallway.

“Nice work, maybe they’ll finally work up their courage,” Harry grinned at you, nodding approvingly at your set up, “You’re a natural matchmaker, Y/N.”

“See, they just needed a push, is all—oof,” you were cut off, bumping forcefully into a body of someone much larger than you. Your sight went dark, the only thing you knew was that the person tended immediately upon impact.

You pulled away, noticing the deathly glare Crabbe was now sending you.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you sighed in relief, “It went dark for a second, I thought I saw the end.”

Harry coughed to hide his laughter, pulling lightly on your sleeve to tell to you walk away. His tugging only became more aggressive once Malfoy stepped out from behind Crabbe, the same pissed off expression as always laced into his features.

“Leave us alone, Malfoy,” Harry glared at him, the tension between the two of them rising significantly in a short amount of time. He let go of your sleeve, standing up straighter and squaring his shoulders.

“It was unfortunate, you know, that the dragon didn’t kill you,” Malfoy said lowly, clearly loving the fact that his friends laughed at his comment. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure what they had found funny. Was it a joke? What had he said that was so funny?

Harry rolled his eyes, motioning his head for you to follow him, and so you did so without question.

“You know, I was mistaken,” Malfoy’s voice echoed down the corridor, making both of you turn around once more. You were feeling both bored and angry — it was quite a strange mix. You were used to Malfoy’s taunts, having sat by while all of your friends — you included — fell victim, but a part of you particularly hated the way he spoke to Harry.

“Oh, yeah? About what? Please, for Merlin’s sake, enlighten us,” you snapped back, “We’re just dying to know.”

Malfoy’s eyes scanned your face before approaching the the both of you one more. Harry’s shoulder was pressed up against yours and you could feel his ragged his breathing had become. Malfoy always found a way under his skin and it bothered you a great deal.

“About Potter, I actually hope you do make it to the end, it’ll make your death that much more bittersweet,” Malfoy sneered, “For those who care, that is.”

“Gee, I always believed we Gryffindors were petty but that’s a whole new low,” you smirked, taking a step forward after pushing Harry back, telling him to let you handle the situations, “You know, I’ve come to a conclusion about you, Malfoy. The reason you’ve never said anything logical in your life is because you waste your breath insulting the people that you think care about your opinion.”

“Excuse me?” you had never seen Malfoy looked more appalled than in that moment. It was rather amusing.

“Was my English not easy enough for you to understand? Point proven,” you sighed dramatically, turning away from him and nudging Harry in the shoulder, “Oh, one more thing, Malfoy.”

You turned back to face him, “suck my dick.”

And with that, you turned back and walked away with Harry by your side, neither of you wanting to turn and gauge what Malfoy’s reaction would be.

Once you two were around the corner, Harry turned to you with wide eyes and his mouth broken into a wide smile. If this was the reaction you’d get for shutting down Malfoy, you’d gladly do it any day.

“That was epic, Y/N!” his hands grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly, “I’ve never actually had anyone stand up for me like that before, what made you do it?”

“Oh — I dunno,” you shrugged, feeling quite proud of yourself, “I stick up for my friends, I guess.” Friends. How you wished Harry could be more than just your friend.

“You’re incredible,” he grinned, taking his hands off of your shoulders and shaking his head in disbelief, “You know, I think I found the perfect friend in you. I love Ron and all but that was something else...”

As he trailed off, you noticed the way his eyes darted between your lips and your eyes. Although that should make you weak in the knees, a part of you instinctively pulled away, flushing brightly at the encounter. You told yourself it was probably just the heat of the moment, the thrill of the comeback.

“Eh, no biggie,” you shrugged, “Asshole needs to be put in his place sometimes.”

You nodded awkwardly and began to continue in the path you were headed, until you noticed Harry was no longer by your side, still standing rooted where you two were not five seconds ago.

“Harry, you—,”

“I’m good, yeah,” he cut you off quietly, a light smile on his lips, “You’re the best.”

“I’ve been told,” you grinned, trying not to let his words get to you. He chuckled, walking forwards and standing next to you, eyes still staring into yours with intensity you didn’t think you could bear.

Awkwardly looking away, your cheeks heating up, you motioned your head down the hall, “We should get going before Hermione and Ron come after me like an angry mob.”

Harry nodded, eyes wide and turning away from you, shaking his head like he was clearing his thoughts, “Good point.”

And so the two of you walked off towards the common room, the silence tense and unsure, but not comfortable. Did Harry really mean what he said? Calling you ‘the best’ and all? It was flattering, especially coming from him, but did he mean it the way that you wanted to take it?

Fighting a mental battle, you stayed quiet until you reached the common room. You flopped down on the couch, nearly being hit by a firework that Fred and George were trying out in the corner of the room.

“How long do you think it’ll be before—,”

The portrait door swung open and a very flustered Ron and Hermione stumbled in, both looking tremendously irritated and uncomfortable.

Hermione stormed up to you, dragging you up by your collar, “You and I need to talk. Right now.”

Shocked by her outburst, you nodded, “If you wanted to get me alone you could have just asked—,” noticing her expression, she wasn’t in the joking mood, “Yikes, sorry, okay, let’s go upstairs.”

She continued to drag you up, the anger fueling her sudden burst of strength. You did feel kind of bad about leaving her and Ron, but it wasn’t like you openly said anything about her feelings towards him.

Upon reaching your dorm room and noticing it was empty, she shut the door and pointed a finger at you accusingly, “You. Why would you do that? That was humiliating!”

“Oh come on,” you sat on the edge of you bed and brought your legs up, sitting criss-crossed, “It couldn’t have been that bad. Did he ask you to the ball?”

“No!” she seethed, sitting down on hers as well, “All he said was that he indeed noticed I am a girl.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Four years in and he finally notices? I knew he wasn’t the brightest lightbulb in the chandelier, but wow.”

As if she agreed with your comment, the anger seemed to disappear from her face. She rushed off her bed and sat next to you, shoving you over slightly so she had space on the tiny bed.

“I think he’s already got his eye on someone. It’s not fun.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled before you could stop yourself. Hermione’s eyes shot up, giving you a quizzing look as you clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh! You like someone!” she grinned, lifting her hand to poke you in the shoulder, “You know about my feelings, I need to know about yours.”

“I don’t have feelings,” you defended, fighting back a blush and taking your hand away from your mouth, “Don’t turn this on me.”

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?” she smirked. You scolded yourself for having been obvious. Of course, the ever-so intuitive Hermione would catch onto who your crush was. It was an embarrassing attempt to hide it on your part.

“Listen, Hermione,” you pointed a finger at her, “Tell anyone and during the next dinner, they’ll be serving your head on a silver platter.”

She giggled, ignoring your threat and crossing her fingers over your heart, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Squinting at her, you figured you’d be able to trust her. She had been your friend for years and kept all your previous secrets. She might be able to keep this one as well.

“Fine,” you gave in, throwing your head back in frustration, “You’re right. It’s Harry.”

She gave you a toothy grin, wiggling her eyebrows, “Now, I have to set you two up.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you shot back, pointing your finger and shaking your head, “You’re gonna take his deep-rooted love for Cho away and, well, that’s just plain rude.”

“Oh, shut up, he’s barely ever spoken to her. It’s just an appearance thing,” she waved her hand, brushing off your comment, “Besides, I heard Lavender Brown say that Cho and Cedric Diggory are hanging out.”

Not overly shocked by the information, you leaned back onto your pillows, “Good for her. Diggory is a right catch if I say so myself.”

Hermione smacked your knee, “Sit up! Listen to me, you don’t need to pout, let’s just go down there and I’ll work my magic.”

You glared at her, not utterly convinced she was able to do much, but you followed her back downstairs nonetheless, figuring it was worth a shot. The worst that could happen was that Harry would not feel the same, distance himself from you, then you’d lose Ron and Hermione as well because they were his friends first and then you’d be left alone to suffer in self despair while they galavanted in friendship—

“Hey, Harry!” Hermione greeted a little too cheerfully once you two entered the seating area of the common room. Already embarrassed by her attempt, you didn’t notice the way Ron and Harry immediately stopped talking upon your entrance, sharing a look that could only mean ‘don’t say anything.’

“Er — hi, Hermione,” Harry smiled awkwardly.

You sat down on the couch next to Ron, who was eyeing Hermione with awe. He was so smitten, it was a miracle no one else noticed the way he looked at her.

“Ron, you’re pathetic,” you leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Ask her. Don’t make me threaten you into doing it.”

Ron shot you a look, “Not bloody likely.”

You turned away, shrugging, and stared into the fireplace. Harry was seated on your other side, not saying much, but the way he kept looking over at you made you think that he did actually have something he wanted to say.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, Cho is going to go to the ball with Cedric,” Hermione said, pretending it was no biggie but checking over repeatedly to see Harry’s reaction.

Upon noticed he didn’t say anything, she leaned closer to him, “Did you hear me Harry? Cho’s taken.”

Harry looked at her, eyes darting back and forth between you, Ron and her, “Yeah, I heard you.”

“Guess that means you can ask someone else,” Hermione grinned, leaning back.

You scolded yourself for telling her. She was being ridiculously obvious and it pained you to see her efforts. Did she think this was going to anywhere?

“Er — I guess,” Harry shrugged, glancing over at you for a millisecond before turning back towards the fire, “I guess I’ll wait and see how things go.”

Your heart did a slight flip. He didn’t mention having any other girl in mind, maybe that meant he didn’t. Which still gave you a shot, technically. Even if he didn’t see you that way just yet, maybe you’d have to turn on the charm. Flirt, make him see that you were actually interested.

Granted, flirting was never really your area of expertise. You weren’t good at it, nor did you really have any experience. But maybe, just maybe, with Hermione’s strange help, you’d be able to find a way to get him to notice you.

Plan Flirt with Harry was now in action.

— —

Over the next two weeks, things had been going relatively well. Hermione had toned down her strategy and was making you seem like much more of a natural.

You and Harry had even shared a few lingering touches, whether they be your hands touching at the table during dinner, or his elbow touching yours when you were sat in the common room. Nothing overly intimate, but enough to send sparks flying through your body at the feeling.

You had also noticed the way Ron and Harry seemed to drop whatever conversation they were having when you entered the room. Sure, they could have been discussing Hermione and Ron’s feeble attempts at his own flirting, but the way Harry would glance at you during meals and classes sent your head spiralling with the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were talking about you.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it was hard not to when the ball was getting closer by the day and neither you, nor Harry, had a date and he still hadn’t shown interest in anyone else.

“He asked me!” Hermione stumbled into the dorm room in excitement, causing you to jump out of your skin and nearly drop the book you were reading.

“Ron?” you grinned, sitting up, “Oh, that’s great, Hermione! I knew—,”

“Not Ron,” she rolled her eyes, flopping down on your bed, on top of your legs, “Viktor Krum.”

“Ohhhh,” your eyes widened, “You go, girl. Have you seen his jawline? I’d let him cut me with it, hot ass—”

Hermione laughed, pretending to shoot you a glare, “That’s my date you’re talking about.”

“Right, sorry,” you joined in on her laughter, closing your book and placing it on your night table, “But I really am happy for you.”

“Thanks,” her cheeks went pink as she turned to face you, “Can we go sit in the common room? It’s just Ron and Harry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sighed, flicking the warm blanket off of you and following her downstairs. She was radiating joy, and even though it wasn’t Ron that had ended up asking her, you could tell she was really looking forward to this date.

“Just ask her,” you heard Ron snap quietly once you two started making your way down the stairs, “I see the way she looks at you.”

“I can’t!” Harry snapped back, trying to keep his voice down, “She can do better anyways.”

“Yeah, bloody right,” Ron scoffed, “You fought a dragon.”

“It’s not the same, Ron, I— shush, I hear footsteps.”

The two of you walked into the room, noticing once again how Harry and Ron dropped their conversation upon landing sight on you two. So, Harry already had plans on asking someone to go to the ball. It hurt, you weren’t going to deny it. Of course he had someone else. He was Harry Potter, for goodness sake. Charming, funny, loyal, and brave. All the qualities to make a girl swoon.

“What are you two ladies gossiping about?” you pretended to be fine as you sat down on the opposite couch, placing your hands in your lap and trying to steady your now irregular heartbeat. Jealousy was slowly coursing through your veins and you hated it.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head, a fake look of innocence on his face. Ron nodded along, neither of them being very convincing.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Ron smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and nudging Harry in the ribs. Harry, glaring at his friend, gave him a nudge right back. You chose to ignore the comment, focusing more on the look Hermione was giving you.

“Hi, Ron,” you replied back, not sure why he was grinning while glancing back and forth between you and Harry. He was always very strange.

Hermione sat down on the armrest of your chair, crossing her arms and nudging you in the side, telling you to start doing something.

“Harry, are you trying to figure out the second task?” you blurted out, not sure what you could have said that wouldn’t make the situation weird.

“Of course,” Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly, his eyes avoiding yours, “I think I’ve almost got it.”

You grinned, “Oh, that’s great. I knew you’d be able to figure it out.”

Hermione seemed more pleased by your comment, leaning back and letting the situation unfold.

“Harry’s real smart, you know,” Ron nudged Harry in the side again, a teasing expression on his face, “One of the smartest.”

“Thanks,” Harry glared at Ron, speaking with gritted teeth before turning back to you, his face softening, “I had help, though.”

“Modesty isn’t gonna make you win, y’know,” you smirked, admiring his honesty, “Take credit. Be proud of yourself.”

Harry’s cheeks were pink and he brushed the hair out of his forehead, “Thanks, Y/N.”

You could tell he was flustered, but you figured it was probably because of the compliments. Harry never really knew how to reply to them — you had noticed that over the years. For someone who was the bravest person you had ever met, he sure didn’t know how to deal with people.

“Oh, Ron, Ginny wanted to talk to us,” Hermione sat up quickly, clapping her hands together. Ron raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently, before standing up.

“She did?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Yes! She did,” Hermione sent a discreet wink in your direction before turning to Harry, “We’ll be back shortly!”

“Well, Y/N, Harry, be safe you two,” Ron picked up on what Hermione was doing, smirking as he made his way to exit the room, “Have fun!”

Harry glanced at Ron, his eyes wide. The two boys shared a look before Hermione dragged the ginger boy out the portrait hole behind her.

“Head on a silver platter, Hermione!” you called after her, your heart beating violently, “Head on a silver platter!”

The portrait swung shut and the room went dead silent. The only thing you could hear was the thump of your heart and the sudden nervousness that spread throughout your body at being alone with Harry.

You wanted to seize the chance and make a move, but you had just heard him talk about asking a girl to the ball, so was it a good idea? Probably not.

But as you looked at him, watching the way the flames flickered across his face and the way his messy hair stuck out in different directions, it took everything you had in you to not rush over there and tell him everything.

“Can I tell you something? Don’t tell Ron and Hermione,” he piped up quietly, turning to face you, the blue of his eyes making you weak. You were thankful he spoke first, it prevented you from spilling your guts and making a fool out of yourself.

“Sure,” you replied, getting up and walking towards the couch he was sitting on, making yourself comfortable on the opposite end.

He sighed deeply, “I haven’t figured out the egg.”

“You haven’t?” you spoke, shock evident on your face. You felt bad for acting so surprised, but you couldn’t help it. He had seemed so confident when he told you he had.

He shook his head silently, shrugging, “I don’t know what to do with it.”

You blinked rapidly, turning over to face the golden egg that was sitting on the table, “Why didn’t you want to tell the others? Hermione could probably figure it out.”

He turned to you, face pale, “No, don’t tell them. I just thought I’d tell you, I don’t know, I trust you.”

You fought back a grin, hiding your smile behind your hair so you didn’t look like an idiot. He probably didn’t mean it as a compliment but you took it as such.

“Well, I’ll help you, then,” you nodded, holding out your pinky, “I know we’re not children, but I pinky promise.”

He grinned, linking your pinky with his. For someone who had been through so much, he really did have soft skin. It was annoying. Pleasant, but annoying.

“I’m glad I have you around, Y/N.”

His gaze was so intense and wholesome that you struggled to hold back.

“The sappiness is gross, but I’m glad to be around,” you beamed, pulling your pinky away and turning back to your corner of the couch, leaning your head back and enjoying the softness of the cushion, your mind going back to the conversation you had heard between him and Ron. Who was he planning on asking?

Now was your chance — now or never.

“So — uh — who are you asking to the ball?” you asked, so silently Harry had to lean closer to you to hear it.

He stammered, “Oh — er — I dunno, yet. There’s a girl I have in mind but I don’t think she sees me that way.”

Your heart sank, but you turned to face him with a neutral expression, “I call bullshit. Who wouldn’t want to go with you?”

He seemed to think over your words for a second, a glimpse of fondness on his features, but he turned away and shook his head, “She’s different.”

“How so?” you regretted it as soon as you asked, knowing Harry was about to gush about some girl when you wished more than anything it was you he’d be gushing about.

“She’s bold,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips, “Not afraid to stick up for herself or the people she cares about. She’s smart, too, always has an answer for everything. A good friend — the best, really. And I know she’d be better off with someone who wasn’t me.”

You nodded, processing his words and trying to think of the girl he could be talking about. It completely crushed you, hearing him speak so highly of someone, but you knew that if anything, he’d be the one better off without you.

“Why’d you think that?” you began twiddling with your thumbs, avoiding his eyes, “Did she tell you or is it an assumption?”

“She didn’t tell me,” he quickly replied, shaking his head, “But she’s got such an incredible spirit, I’m worried I’d ruin it. You know, it’s funny. I always looked at her like she was just a friend, just someone that I’d got lucky to have around, but then one day, she did something, and it kind of clicked. After that, I couldn’t look at her the same. She was so much more beautiful, so much more radiant and lovely and I knew from then on that she was just... different to me. And I tried to tell myself she was never going to see me that way but the more I was around her, the harder it was.”

You bit your cheek, trying your best to hold back your oncoming emotions.

“Well, she’s lucky,” your voice was weak, shaky even, as you turned to face him.

His smile was clear as day and the love struck expression was still on his face as he turned to look at you, causing you to speak up one more, “What did she do that made you change your mind about her?”

The smile vanished from his face and the awkward expression returned. He raised his hand, rubbing the back of his neck and then through his hair, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next.

He dropped his hand and faced you, all traces of amusement gone from his face, “She stuck up for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words echoing in your mind. You nearly missed his hand reaching across the couch and grabbing yours, linking his fingers and running his thumb across your skin.

Had he been talking about you? It would make sense, you had stuck up for him against Malfoy a few weeks back, but had it really impacted him to the point where he was falling for you?

You didn’t want to complain, but you couldn’t believe it. You thought back to what he said, about seeing you as a friend and then as something more, that you were different and beautiful, even. It was nearly impossible to believe him just off of his words, you had embarrassingly dreamt of him admitting his feelings and it felt too good to be true, but his gentle tough and soft gaze grounded you to reality. He was telling you the truth.

“I’m talking about you, if you hadn’t caught on,” he tried to smile but it came off as more of a grimace, his nerves evident in his shaking hand and pale complexion.

You still couldn’t forumulate the words to say. For years you had always been the one to make a comeback, leaving others speechless — but now, you were the one speechless.

“Me?” you stared at him with wide eyes, heart violently thumping against your rib cage, trying to burst out and reach his, “Me?”

He retracted his hand rather quickly, “Unless — you know, unless you don’t feel the same.”

“No, wait,” you reached across and grabbed his hand, finally finding the courage to flash him a smile, “I do actually. I do feel the same.”

Relief flooded over him, his face regaining colour and his shoulders slouching back, “Oh, thank Merlin.”

The joy that had spread through you was indescribable. You didn’t think there could be a better feeling. Your heart seemed to swell and the tingling sensation in your fingers was everlasting. It was like a high you didn’t want to come down from. God bless Hermione and her intuition of leaving you two alone.

Plan Flirt with Harry had been a success.

— —

Hermione and Ron had quickly been informed of the confession between you two, both of them saying they had called it years back. Which didn’t make sense considering you didn’t have feelings for each other years back, but you let them enjoy their moment.

You had helped Harry try and figure out his second task, as promised, spending many a nights up late in the common room and telling each other things you wouldn’t tell someone if you were ‘just friends.’ You were having the time of your life, really. He had grown comfortable being intimate — holding your hand on the way to class or pecking your cheek in the Great Hall. (Hermione and Ron teased you two to no ends about it.)

Eventually, Harry had asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball — which you responded with ‘well, duh.’ So, as the night of the dance came around — you were actually looking forward to it now — you had gotten ready with Hermione and strolled down to the Great Hall, ready to finally dance the night away with the boy you had fallen for.

Reaching the stairs, you noticed him and Ron standing at the bottom, both looking out of place. Ron — donning his ugly dress robes — had worked up the courage to ask one of the Patil twins. Which one, you didn’t remember. He had asked her out of desperation, it was rather sad.

“It’s embarrassing to be seen next to you, Ronald,” you tapped him on the shoulder once you arrived at the bottom. He spun around, his face laced with humiliation.

“They’re ancient,” he groaned, lifting his arms to show you the frills.

“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you,” you winked and ruffled his hair, turning to face Harry.

His eyes scanned you up and down in your dress, but you were too focused on how good he looked to feel at all self conscious. You had only ever really seen him in sweaters and his Gryffindor robes. This was a whole new level of glo-up.

“You look gorgeous,” he grinned, linking his hand with yours and pulling you closer to him, “I’m the luckiest guy here.”

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, grinning, “Well, what can I say? I’m a catch.”

“That you are,” he nodded, sticking out his arm for you to take, “We have first dance since I’m Champion.”

You nodded, linking your arm in his and standing by his side. You weren’t exactly a good dancer, but if you had Harry by your side you’d be too focused on him as opposed to the crowd around you.

“Shall we go in then, Champion?” you turned to face him, chin held high.

��We shall,” he replied in the same noble manner, chin up, and began leading you into the ball.

He was well worth the wait.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter one shots #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfics #harry potter x reader #harry potter reader insert

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iwaisa · 4 years

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request. (Sorry if this is too angsty for you, just delete it if not!!) But could I request Kuroo, Bokuto, and Daichi with a reader (gender doesn't matter and hc or anything) whos more of a people pleaser, like they put anyone else's needs before their own? And then one day they just snap and they help the reader so I guess with a fluffy end?? Ty sorry again!! - anon

a/n. hey anon ! this is such a cute request (especially since i am a people pleaser lol) don’t be sorry! i’m here to write whatever your heart desires! i really hope i interpreted this correctly! also, there was no relationship specified, so i just assumed it was a romantic relationship. have an amazing day/night, anon! <3

kuroo, bokuto, and daichi with a people pleaser s/o

- genre. angst to fluff

- pairings. kuroo, bokuto, and daichi x gender neutral reader

- warnings. none

- key.

c/l/n - classmate’s last name

f/f/n - friend’s first name

► now shuffling...

kuroo sat in his classroom tapping his pencil against his desk as he waited for you - his s/o - to walk into class

what he didn’t expect to see was you being bombarded with people

“l/n-san! please give me the answers to last night's homework!”

you attempted to wave off the group of people as you made your way to your seat, yet much to your dismay, the group didn’t disperse

“l/n-san please! i had basketball last night and i didn’t have enough time to do it!” another person spoke up

the others agreed, making lame excuses for why they were simply too lazy to complete a one-paged worksheet

kuroo rolled his eyes and pushed his chair out from under his desk, walking over towards you

he slung his arm around his shoulder, “‘morning, sunshine.”

you felt your heart stutter at the name, but you were quickly snapped out of your moment when someone leaned over your desk to continue pestering you

“l/n-san please, sensei is gonna give me detention if i don’t finish this homework!”

“and why couldn’t you do it?” kuroo chimed in

“i had baseball! i got home late and i was so exhausted-”

kuroo cut him off, “and you couldn’t find any time to do a single-paged worksheet?”

the boy was attempting to stutter out an excuse, but kuroo was not having it

“just leave my s/o alone. do the homework yourselves.”

“tetsu, it’s okay, i don’t mind,” you spoke up

the rest of your classmates began cheering as you handed them your worksheet

kuroo frowned at you, “f/n, i know you feel bad for them, but they’re only excuses, you know that right?”

you patted his head and assured him that you were okay with giving out your homework as long as you saw your classmates happy

this carried on for weeks; you would walk into class, and would instantly be bombarded with people asking for your homework

and each time, kuroo would watch as you instantly handed it over telling them that you would be happy to

kuroo has had enough; he couldn’t stand seeing his s/o being pushed around like that

after school, you and kuroo walked to the gymnasium for his volleyball practice, when a classmate approached you

“l/n-san! i won’t be able to do my homework tonight since i have dance, so can i please have your notebook!” your classmate bowed, hands clapped together above her head

you began reaching into your bag to pull said notebook out, until you felt a hand stop your movement

“c/l/n-san, i understand your schedule is busy, but i would appreciate it if you would stop guilt tripping my s/o into giving you the answers. they also have a very busy schedule, and it’s getting tiring seeing them be pushed around as if they aren’t human too,” kuroo said through gritted teeth

you stared at your boyfriend, wondering what had gotten into him

your thoughts were quickly interrupted when you felt kuroo pulling you into the gym

he turned around and wrapped his arms around you, “i hate seeing them use you like that, f/n.”

he nuzzled his face into your neck as you chuckled, “i promise i won’t let them do that anymore, tetsu. i’ve been getting better about saying no to people, as much as it hurts to see them sad.”

he nodded and pulled back, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “i’m glad to hear that.”

you and bokuto walked down the hallways of fukurōdani high talking and laughing, until one of your friends walked up to you to confront you about missing out on a karaoke get-together

they continued scolding you as bokuto simply watched from the side, confused as to why your friend was talking to you like that

“i-i’m sorry f/f/n-san. i promise i’ll go to karaoke with you guys tonight!”

they continued the confrontation, even after you had already apologized

bokuto tilted his head in confusion as he watched you continue to apologize

he felt himself growing annoyed with your so-called friend’s constant condemning, so he took it upon himself to step in

“hey hey hey! they already apologized, what’s the big deal?” he asked while pulling you into his side

your friend just ignored bokuto, and continued to walk past, letting one more negative comment slip

bokuto watched as your figure seemed to deflate

“hey hey! emo mode is my thing, f/n! don’t be sad! they’re no good for you if they keep making you feel bad, y’know,” he pouted, crouching down in front of you

“i’m sorry, kou.”

he assured you it was okay, and the two of you continued walking to class with him rubbing circles into your back with his hand

however, this problem remained unsolved

your friend only continued to chastise you, and your mood was worse than ever

soon enough, the only thing you could find yourself saying was sorry

this also did not go by unnoticed by your loving boyfriend, who unfortunately was not there this time as your friend approached you

“f/n-san!” your friend whined

“what’s wrong?” you asked, tilting your head

“the notes you gave me were wrong! i just failed my chemistry test!” they continued

you took the notes and skimmed over them

“b-but i just wrote down what the teacher had on the board, h-how could they be wrong?”

your friend continued, “i don’t know! ugh, i just failed a super important test because of this!”

you felt tears welling in your eyes at your current predicament

“i-i’m sorry, f/f/n-san. i’ll take better notes next time,” you sobbed

“ugh. it’s fine. stop crying will you?”

“s-sorry,”

“and stop apologizing! it’s annoying!”

your friend’s negative comments never ceased, and the tears continued streaming down your face

you looked up at your friend, only to see a familiar figure approaching from down the hall

“hey!!! f/n!!! i was looking for- h-hey! why are you crying?”

bokuto ran up to you and cupped your cheeks, wiping tear after tear away

“i-it’s my fault. i gave f/f/n-san the wrong notes. i’m sorry,” you choked out

bokuto asked to see the notes, and he read the pages

“but, these are the notes sensei told us to go over. these are the right notes!” he defended

“but i still failed my test because of your s/o! ugh! i knew i shouldn’t have trusted you to take the notes.”

bokuto felt his heart break at their comment

how could your ‘friend’ just say something like that? aren’t they supposed to be there for you? shouldn’t they be reassuring you that it was okay? shouldn’t they have taken their own notes in the first place?

bokuto’s mind ran at a mile a minute, until he turned around to face them

“you know, i would appreciate it a lot if you would stop terrorizing my s/o,” bokuto said darkly

he continued, “you’re no friend! you’re just using them! they’re trying their best and all you’re doing is criticizing them! you don’t deserve to be friends with someone as sweet as f/n!”

with that, he grabbed your arm and dragged you off to a separate hallway

he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and blotted at your face, “f/n, you don’t have to deal with them anymore, okay?”

he continued comforting and reassuring you until you were fit to go back to class

you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before entering the classroom, earning yourself a very giddy boyfriend for the rest of the day

your relationship with the captain of the karasuno volleyball team was smooth-sailing

the relationship between the two of you was nothing less than loving, and the two of you always supported each other

however, one thing daichi wished was different was that you would stop hiding your true feelings from him

he could read your face like a book; he knew exactly what emotion you were feeling at any given time, but you always brushed it off whenever he asked about it

it’s been six months since the two of you started dating, and he felt himself growing more anxious at the fact that at any given moment, all of your emotions would hit you at once and you would start breaking down

he wanted nothing more than to just be true to yourself and him

“hey, baby. how are you today?” daichi asked as you walked into the gymnasium

“i’m okay! how are you?” you gave him a quick kiss on the lips, but he didn’t fail to notice how your face seemed to be less expressive than usual

“are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned, cupping your face in his hands

“yeah, i’m fine! how are you?”

he felt himself growing annoyed that you kept brushing his question off as if it were nothing

it seemed to him like you cared more about his well-being than your own

“i’m alright. did something happen today?” he kept pressing. no matter what, he wanted to get an answer out of you

“nope! how was practice?”

by this point, daichi’s blood was starting to boil. he wasn’t meaning to get mad at you, per se, he was getting angry at the fact that he felt so useless

he felt as if you were hiding something important from him - something he could most definitely help you with

he stopped walking, and he watched as you turned around and walked up to him, tilting your head

“f/n, i need to know if you’re actually okay. and please don’t lie to me.”

he watched your expression drop, and you furrowed your eyebrows

“w-why would you think something is wrong?”

he sighed, placing his hands on your shoulders

“i know you’re hiding something from me. and i’m not mad, i just want to be able to help my best friend and my s/o with anything that’s troubling them. so please, i want you to be honest.”

by now the tears were rushing down your cheeks, and daichi offered you a seat on a nearby bench

you waited until you could form coherent sentences until you began to narrate your god-awful day to your boyfriend

he listened carefully as you described your day; firstly, you woke up late so you were unable to eat breakfast, then you received a horrible grade on your test, and then you didn’t have any lunch money to buy food at the cafeteria. you were exhausted and you just wanted some food

daichi nodded his head as he reached into his bag to pull out a granola bar, which you accepted eagerly

“f/n, please don’t hesitate to admit whenever you’re feeling awful. it’s my job as your boyfriend to make you feel better, and i can’t do that when you’re hiding your feelings from me. promise me you’ll tell me when something’s bothering you?”

you nodded and hugged him, burying your face into his chest

“good,” he sighed in contentment as he watched you excitedly scarf down the rest of the granola bar

#kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #daichi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #kuroo x gn!reader #bokuto x gn!reader #daichi x gn!reader

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aliypop · 3 years

Text

And So It Starts Chap 2

Wordcount: 2,088

Warning: Slight Language

A/N : So I made a part two based off of episode 2 I don’t know why I went “Oh lets flesh a character out using the show loki” but oh well!

" Astrid, my love..."

"Loki..." she asked. "Wait... Wait, if you're my real Loki, then tell me something only my Loki would know." Astrid said, her tempad in hand, ready to use it.

"How many Loki's have you..."

" Answer the question..." she snarled, ready to press the button to send him away. "Well... we used to walk through the gardens." he smiled as she laughed at him, "Anyone would know that... try something harder." her hands on her hips,

"We once had sex on my father's throne... and we blamed it on Thor." he smirked, "Mind if I say it was one of our best chaotic moments..." he winked as Astrid nearly tackled him, "It is you..." she held onto him as if she were afraid to let him go again, of course, she did have her reasons.

"Listen and listen well when I say this... I'm going to get us out of here..."

"How are you planning to do that..." he stared at her in disbelief.

"Well, I'm shocked you don't know your Astrid well enough." she smirked as she sat down on the table, "Was I not the one who told you how to escape Odin's dungeon or found the secret entrances into the kingdom," Astrid asked, looking at Loki as she fluttered her eyelashes.

"Yes, that was you, O mighty boastful one." he smiled, placing a kiss on her hand. Her cheeks red as she straightened out her suit.

"Now, just play along..." she smirked, "Mobius is going to think that I reprimanded you for pissing off Hunter B-15, so..." she looked around the room, seeing if there was anything she could pretend to torment him with as the sounds of footsteps crept closer.

"Well, what's the hold-up..." Loki whispered.

"If you knew what I had planned, you'd hate me..." she gave him a mischievous grin.

"Is this my punishment for loving the goddess of choa- OUCH!" As the door cracked open. Astrid held Loki's arm behind his back as her other hand was pulling his hair with his body against the table,

"Now, will you comply with me variant L1130?"

"No..." he spat, adjusting his head to look up at her, Norns did he wish that Astrid didn't train alongside him and Thor, "What was that variant..." she growled, "Play along..." Astrid whispered in his ear.

"I yes... I comply..."

"Well, you heard him, Mobius, get the man dressed..." she pushed him into the other agent, "You have odd methods, but you're the best." Mobius smiled, placing his hand on her back. As Loki glared at him, Astrid winked, replying with a simple "Well, what can I say. A win for the TVA is a win for us all." she nearly threw up in her mouth.

"I'll meet you two in the lobby... I'll uh pick up the variant when you're finished."

"Alright, buddy!" Mobius said, shooting finger guns at Astrid as she did them back. Midgardians and their weird greetings. She thought to herself, fixing her tie and suit jacket as she straightened out her pencil skirt from any imperfections and creases.

"What was that about..." Loki grumbled, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

"Me pinning you against the table ... Because that was a diversion ..." she kept looking straight ahead as they passed minute men and other agents a few nodding at her. "No, you and Mobius... although I found that diversion of yours rather unflattering." he scoffed,

"What do you mean Mobius and I..." she stopped him in his tracks.

"He touched your shoulder..."

"They do that... it's like getting praised for a job well done." she laughed it off, "If he does it again, I'll kill him..." he smirked, kissing her on the cheek. Astrid had almost forgotten how possessive and protective her Loki was. But she was glad to have him back nonetheless.

In the lobby, there stood Mobius and the other minutemen as they went over the various Loki's and his powers,

" Illusion projection and My favorite..." Mobius said, looking towards Astrid, who only had her head down, "You shouldn't have said that..." she grumbled.

"Another two completely different powers, actually..."

"How..." Mobius glared.

"Why would you ask him how..." Astrid let out a muffled groan.

"Illusion projects involve depicting a detailed image from outside oneself which is perceptible in the external world. Patient casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure ..."

Loki nodded as he held his hands in his pockets. Mobius only sighed as Astrid glared at Loki, "Must you always be correct..." she gritted her teeth.

"Must you be such a people pleaser ..." he asked as they walked through the portal and later through a tent of evidence where a TVA agent went missing. Astrid kept her focus on the evidence, which was a dagger much like Loki's, but next to it was a red amulet. One that she knew all too well, picking it up, she placed it in her pocket as she heard Mobius talk to Loki.

"We have a saying in Asgard where there are wolf ears, wolf teeth are near." Loki looked back at the minute, "It means to be aware of your surroundings." he winked at Astrid, "Which is absurd because my people are, by nature, gullible fools."

"Not all of us..." Astrid walked by, "

"A trait that I, the god of mischief, exploited time, and time again, simply by listening. My teeth were sharp, but my ears sharper."

"Astrid, what's his point," Mobius asked. getting annoyed,

"Well, the TVA and the gods of Asgard are the same, Coming from one myself. Drunken with power and blinded by the truth. Thus those you underestimate will devour you, trust me, I know from experience..." she said an innocent expression on her face,

"And knowing what I now know about his tactics, I can deliver you the variant, but I need assurance..." Loki stood next to Astrid, his hand around her waist.

"Yeah..."

"Assurance..."

"that he won't get disintegrated the moment this is all done." Astrid said, "That goes for me as well, by the way..." Mobius gave the pair a suspicious look as Hunter b -15 raised an eyebrow. She knew something was up. She just had to figure it out. Back at the TVA, both Astrid and Loki sat outside waiting for Mobius, who she knew would be furious. After all, it was a bit chaotic. Astrid knew that Loki had been stalling. It was always something he was good at when they were kids,

Like the time she was late to her engagement party, or she'd break down in her chambers and missed royal meetings.

BANG!

The heavy wooden door alarmed the two variants as a very pissed-off Mobius stood between the two, "Astrid, I'll speak with you later..." he glared as he focused back on Loki.

"That was your first lesson in catching a Loki. Expect the expected. You see, half the fun in being a trickster is everyone knows you're a trickster, and then many of your tricks can..."

"Shut up!" Mobius growled, "What happened to the guy on the elevator who didn't like to talk..." he looked at him as he then thought about Astrid, "Was she on this too... " he asked, losing hope.

"Did you turn Astrid against me or..."

"Astrid is her own person, well Goddess ... what she chooses to do is on her accord." he glared.

"Well, all I see is a scared little boy shivering in the cold, and you kinda feel bad for that ice runt... " he laughed " And as for Astrid, a sad little girl looking for praise and affection but only locked away in desperation..." he laughed watching as Loki balled his fist up. Mobius knew he struck a nerve. He didn't think the useless Goddess would have made him react that way.

"We don't need your sympathy Mobius..." a silhouette of curls said from behind the wall, a tear pricking her eyes. "L1130, how about we get some work done..." she mumbled, hiding her face. The walk to the library was silent. Astrid had her head down in cases of files as Loki stole glances from her. He had never seen her so defenseless, at least not in his part of the timeline. "Darling..." he probed.

"It hurts all this time..." she read her files, "They were just tactics of fear..." he held her hand, rubbing his thumb over her skin, "He called you an ice runt!"

"Shush..."

"Love, I know... but you said to play along and that we... Apocalypse," he whispered. Astrid looked confused, "Not to interrupt you, but I found the answer..." he laughed.

"Which is..."

"He's hiding in an apocalypse..." Thunder and lightning struck across the sky as both Astrid and Loki looked up towards it. The two continued to walk in apocalyptic Alabama. Using his magic, both Astrid and Loki were dried off, not a hair or cloth drenched.

"What the hell was that..."

"That was me using magic to dry us both off, so we don't announce ourselves with every squeaky footstep."

"Honestly, if that shocked you, this is all beneath us. I am a princess, by the way." Astrid smirked, walking towards the aisle.

"Uh, no, you're going with team Loki and B-15." Mobius laughed, pulling her by the arm,

"You can trust me. You've known me!"

"Not long enough, Hunter B- 15. keep a close watch on this one..." he said, walking away.

"You're the TVA Agent they sent to hunt me down..." Hunter B-15 smirked, her back turned towards the two, "While you have something that belongs to me..."

"Me, I presume ..." Loki asked.

"Or possibly me?" Astrid questioned, "Although I don't see what I'd have that would be yours..." she clutched, trying to find the amulet necklace in her pocket.

"If anyone is anyone, you're me."

"Lovely to meet you," Loki mumbled.

"Looking for this sweetheart..." she asked, pulling the necklace out,

"How did you..."

"Enchantment is a clever trick, cowardly, a bit amateur-ish but clever." he laughed as Astrid clenched her jaw.

"Almost as cowardly as working for the TVA..." she turned to look at them both.

"One small question: who are we to each other..."

"You tell me..." She winked at Astrid.

"And here I was worried they found a better version of me..." she laughed before changing her appearance a few times, "You know I see why Thor hated that..." Loki grumbled. As the two split up trying to find the variant, Astrid felt a spark from the tip of her fingertips as she heard Loki thrown around. Wondering how on earth did he let himself get that weak in fighting.

"If you had any, honor you'd fight me as yourself..."

"I have shit to do..."

"Is it still murder if I warn them first..." Astrid asked

"That's ugh... called a threat, darling...Ouch!" he got tossed again.

Astrid used her powers to fling the variant away from him and into a showcase of headphones. "That was uncalled for..." she took her hood down as Astrid looked up.

She knew there was no denying that that was indeed a Loki.

"But this isn't exactly about you..." she opened up a portal walking through it. Mobius and the minutemen arrived.

"Wait!"

"Well, looks like they betrayed you..."

"You idiots!, this is Lamentis 1," Sylvie grumbled

"Sorry, but I don't know what that means." Loki sighed, the two walking out of the tent as the sounds of distant screaming and a body nearly hitting the desert ground as she began to float gracefully, a meteoroid almost knocking her out.

"To be fair, I have been falling for 20 minutes!" Astrid growled, getting dirt off her suit, using her magic to change her outfit into something that was a bit more her. "You are insane!" Sylvie sighed, "And you haven't you got anything better to do!" pointing towards Loki,

"How rude..."

"Very rude, especially for a Loki... " Astrid said, rolling her eyes. "I advise you not to call me that..."

"Or what," Astrid smirked her back against the wall.

"One of you has a Tempad, and unless you give it to me, nobody dies."

"Or we could stay in this mining shack and slaughter each other."

"In old Asgardian fashion." Astrid winked at the variant. "Or we become a team..."

"I rather we don’t do that..." she rolled her eyes.

#Loki Laufeyson #loki x oc #loki series #loki fandom #loki fanfic #Astrid sodotirr loki oc #new stuff #new series #i hope this is alright!#i hope you like it

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dorevenge · 3 years

Text

where ignorance is bliss - chapter 10: snow will follow

SUMMARY: Maria is expecting, and the pregnancy is rough on her and Howard. [AO3 LINK]

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 [10] 11 12 13 14 15 ☆

May 22, 1970 – Manhattan, New York, Stark Manor

“Howard!” I scream, halfway down the staircase to the first floor, hands clenching to the railing. “It’s happening!” I’m nine months pregnant, and it feels like a pit has opened up behind my stomach, squeezing the life out of me at the same time, my knuckles going white from the pressure.

Howard runs over to me, one of the quickest 53-year-olds I’ve met, pushing up his sleeve to count the seconds on his wrist, whispering the time to himself. He guides me down the stairs, arm around my waist and shoulder supporting my armpit.

“Have Edwin bring the car around,” I saw. Tears stream from my eyes, my knees wobble from the pain, and Howard says the same thing he always does.

“They’re just Braxton Hicks, doll. The contractions aren’t close enough together.” He sets me down on the couch and wipes my face dry.

“They feel real,” I snap at him without meaning to.

“I know, I’m sorry. Let’s get you something to drink, settle your stomach.”

Edwin runs off to the kitchen, “I’ll put the kettle on.”

“You have to stay hydrated, and lay on your left side,” Howard continues. He brushes my hair out of the way and guides me to a horizontal position.

“I don’t want to lay on my left side, I want my body back,” I whine, adjusting the pillows underneath me to support the bowling ball sticking out of me. The pain behind my abdomen rages on like a wildfire. “Can you put the movie on?”

“Are we feeling West Side Story or Singing in the Rain today?” Howard prides himself on our home video library, collecting almost every film we would go out to see at the cinema. Our home theatre was impressive, given he had tried to make his own film production company at one point. It was his only unsuccessful venture, so we don’t talk about that aspect of it very often, but he keeps up with the technology and is obsessed with recreating the feeling of going to see a talkie at home.

“West Side Story.”

He puts the tape in, and the familiar opening plays out. Watching it reminds me of the first Academy Awards Show I accompanied Howard to, where we watched West Side Story sweep the competition, when Rita Moreno won in that stunning dress. It was only eight years ago, but it feels like a lifetime now, like many lifetimes have passed during Howard’s and my relationship. And now I’m cramping and swollen and bloated, as far as I can be from walking down a red carpet.

I’m asleep before “Something’s Coming” plays.

“Can you chew any louder?”

“Maria, we’re having soup. There’s no chewing involved.”

“It’s making me sick,” I say.

“I’ll go in the pantry,” Howard offers without complaint, used to this by now, kissing the top of my head and taking his bowl of soup with him into the pantry, shutting the door behind him.

Edwin and Ana look up cautiously from their bowls. “Shall we leave you as well, Mrs. Stark?” Ana asks.

“Why would you? You’re completely fine.”

I wake from a dead sleep at two in the morning, after a long day of getting mad at Howard for things that he couldn’t help, and I know I’m going into labor. This time, it isn’t Braxton Hicks, I know it. I rustle Howard’s shoulder. Then I shake it harder. “Howard, wake up,” I whisper harshly. He slowly blinks his eyes open. “We need to go to the hospital.”

“Let me get my watch,” he reaches over to flick on his bedside lamp.

“It’s for real this time.” I know it. I don’t want him to question it, I can feel it in my gut; today is the day we meet our child for the first time.

“If we go in again for more practice contractions, I don’t think the hospital will let ever let us come back.”

I pause before replying.

“My water broke.”

I’ve never seen Howard get out of bed and get dressed so quickly before. He throws my already packed bag at Edwin to have him bring the car around, asks Ana to change the bedsheets, and helps me dress myself, ushering me out the door. For the first time in the last nine months, I’m the calmest person in the Stark household, focusing on my breathing and answering the nurses’ questions as Howard stammers, trying to take care of everything at once. They confirm I am indeed in labor, run their preliminary tests, and show us to the suite we had reserved.

I didn’t realize the suite would be so luxurious; it was nicer than some hotels I’ve stayed at. A jacuzzi and a pool table are tucked away in the corner, along with a full-sized refrigerator and a private bathroom. We’re given a run-down of the amenities, including an on-call masseuse and chef, but as we settle in, I just want Edwin’s cooking and fanciful retellings of his days spent running around Los Angeles with the SSR. The way he tells it, he makes Peggy sound more heroic than Captain America.

“Don’t get mad at me, but you’re as beautiful now as you were the day I met you back in Monaco.” Howard dabs my forehead with a cool cloth.

“I have half a child sticking out of me!” I yell from gritted teeth between contractions. “And you’re flirting with me right now?” Rivets of sweat trickle down my brow between my breasts, chest heaving with effort. The pain from the contractions pulses through me. We’re almost 14 hours into the labor now, and I’ve never been more tired in my life. I want to sleep, but every fiber of every muscle in my body is engaged and trying to get through this.

“Jesus, doll, I said don’t get mad at me.” I take his hand and squeeze it hard enough he winces, like I’m siphoning the pain out of me and into him. He whispers words of encouragement into my ear, watering me and obeying every order from the doctor, not straying from my side - until we hear the peal of cries and the magical words –

“It’s a boy.”

Anthony Howard Stark was born May 29, 1970, a healthy 6 pounds and 10 ounces, with ten fingers, ten toes, and two powerful lungs that never stopped crying. And I do mean never. Baby Tony had no respect for what time of day it was, who was visiting, or how tired his parents were. Although we hadn’t discussed names at all before that day, it came together perfectly; a beautiful name for our beautiful boy.

Howard returned to work within the week Tony was born, taking Edwin with him every day to try to make up for the lost time at S.H.I.E.LD. base at Camp Lehigh. At dinner after his first day back, Howard had nothing about complaints about the way things had been run in his absence. “One of the security guards said the Tesseract went missing for five minutes and showed right back up in its containment unit. I think we have a breach, but everyone swears they didn’t see anything out of the ordinary,” he says over a plate of chicken and asparagus.

“When was this?”

“Back in April. We need to up our security.”

When I announce I am ready to retire and go to bed, everyone at the table stands to help. While I appreciate the attention and assistance, I’m looking forward to being able to get up on my own. The delivery has had an immense toll on my body, wiping me out completely with the emergency Cesarian. I can’t stand on my own for more than thirty seconds at a time, and Ana has been instrumental in my recovery. She takes care of Tony when I can’t, and when Howard is kept late at the office. She changes every diaper, cleans every dish, and I cannot thank her enough times. I think she took to the role quite well, and I don’t look forward to the day it’s taken from her again.

“Master Tony, you are quite the tornado,” I hear Edwin say down the hall as I fold laundry in the living room. Tony has just turned two, and his favorite word currently is “no.” Edwin does his best to toe the line between butler and substitute father-figure, but Tony needs a firm hand – the opposite of what he gets from Howard when he’s either stuck in the lab or nursing a gin and tonic.

“Tony Tornado! Tony Tornado!” Tony sprints down the hall, giggling, spilling his cup of Cheerios and leaving a trail behind him.

“Master Tony!” Edwin takes off after him. He is almost 60 by now, and, somehow, he still keeps up with the toddler. The two of them were practically inseparable. We lost Ana last year to a long battle with cancer, and it’s almost like Tony made it his personal mission to keep Edwin entertained and distracted enough to forget about the tragedy. I often find them playing make-believe with flying robots or watching cartoons on Saturday mornings, cross-legged on the carpet in the den.

I spend my first two years of motherhood caressing egos, trying to be the entertainer and people-pleaser, but I find myself just wanting all four of us to be together at home, instead of stuck late in offices or meetings or dinner parties that no one wants to attend in the first place. I miss my husband because even when he’s at home, he’s really back at the Stark Industries headquarters, still thinking about that damn arc reactor.

#where ignorance is bliss #wiib reading #iron man 3 #agent carter #edwin jarvis #marvel #fanfiction #canary writes a fanfiction

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genuflectx · 4 years

Text

4th Dimensional Being/OC - CH1

Full Length: 19,543

Chapter Length: 4,248

Main Themes: Other dimensions, tentacles, confinement, nsfw

Other Warnings: politics, "godly" behaviors, vomit, feeling of loss of autonomy, comparison to a toy

(all images in aesthetic board are labeled for reuse with modification or are mine)

I ended writing a novella... this is my longest short, non-fanfic work yet. It's not perfect but was a fun exploration of these characters and themes. Yes, there will be explicit sex in a later chapter :) Later on I will format the novella correctly for a nice little Gumroad/Patron release! Enjoy! (WILL BE NSFW IN LATER CHAPTERS)

The 4DB Chapter 1: Heartburn

“Do you need any stamps?”

The middle-aged woman re-set her teeth subconsciously and rose a brow. “No, I just came to drop off the package.” Her eyes crinkled in a way that passive aggressively said 'get on with it.'

Chris pursed her lips, features big and round with false politeness. “Okay then! If you could just insert your card-”

“Is it one that takes chips?” She interrupted.

“Yes, it's ready for you.”

The mail room was a quiet murmur as the card clacked against the plastic scanner. Eventually it happened to slipped in. “It's not doing anything.”

“You might have it in the wrong way ma'am,” Chris suggested, tense.

The woman squinted, a corner of her mouth raising in distaste. She ripped the card from its slot and turned it around. The machine asked her pin. She got it right on the third try. Finally, the package could be put in its place as the lady left with a stick up her ass.

“Some customers are just the worst,” Chris concluded as she and two of her co-workers were closing shop.

Vincent shrugged. “They just like to take out their anger on strangers to make'em feel better,” he smiled and locked the door.

Mildred chuckled and rolled her eyes, patting Chris on the shoulder. “Make sure none of them hear you talking like that!” She started to walk to her car. “I been here for a decade. You'll get used to them.”

“Well I been here a year, I ought to be too!” Chris groaned, slumping dramatically where she stood.

“Just get some rest, tomorrow's the big event!” Vincent grinned and pranced off to his own car.

Chris found her feet dragging on, her hand fumbling for keys. “Yeah yeah, see you there,” she mumbled, climbing on in with exhaustion.

She was never much of a people-pleaser, but she did her job alright. After a long exasperating work week the weekend was blessedly encroaching upon her, right along side the annual downtown gathering of Gabriel's Children. Chris was not one of those children. However, Vincent had been since the horn had first begun to blow. Chris did have to admit it was an astounding scientific phenomenon, but that's all it was. Just something science had yet to explain. The little festival the locals vended had delicious food, though. Hearing the horn was a fun little bonus.

The festivities started early in the morning and she arrived with Vincent in the afternoon. There was a talk being held at its center, which Vincent felt the need to drag her to hear after gathering snacks. They nibbled on freshly baked pastries and sipped hot coffee as a man high on the stage explained recent discoveries of the hum- another word for the horn. Chris thought maybe they'd come in a little late, as the man was already beginning to finish off his speech. Plus, it was hard to hear with the bustling of the surrounding crowd; all the people laughing and chatting and cooking at their stands, necklaces jingling and children begging parents for magnets of trumpets and angels. She strained her ears to listen.

“So if it wasn't the factory, if we are inland unlike the Children of Europe, we have no buzzing wind farms nor major fault lines, then what is it? What is the 'horn?'” He stalked across the stage, pacing and looking so, so serious. “Twenty years and we have no answers. But we know it's sped up. We know it's moved and honed in to few locations; from our little mid-American town, to Washington D.C., all the way down to the hot, dry climates of Texas.”

Chris sighed and slid further in her chair, looking bored. “We've heard all this before. They haven't learned anything new in years,” she whispered across to her excited co-worker. Vincent shushed her and she resisted a bored moan.

The speaker was unaffected, totally unaware of a particular audience member's dry indifference. “Every year now it comes, and every year we gather again to try and learn something. Anything,” he frowned.

Chris crammed cinnamon role into her gob and huffed quietly. “Good luck.” She washed it down with a big swig of coffee.

Vincent gave her a look that could melt the bones right out of her body. She smirked at him.

“Maybe this year... things will be different,” the speaker trailed off quietly and quit pacing. He became eerily still, looking out over the heads of the crowd and into the mottled stone walls of downtown. Vincent felt that he was pausing for dramatic effect, but Chris rose a brow. He'd stopped speaking, almost wall eyed.

“Shit,” Chris suddenly whispered, bringing fingers to her temples and shutting her eyes.

“You okay?” Vincent worried, glancing from her to the stage with a sense of terrible unease.

She grit her teeth and shut her eyes. Her ears were ringing, one even popped. A few seconds passed. It slowly subsided into a dull pain. “Just a weird headache? Guess it's all the noise,” she dropped her hands, exhaling.

“Guess he got one too?” Vincent gestured uncomfortably.

She followed his hand up to the stage, where the speaker was continuing to pause. By now it had just become awkward; his palm on his forehead and a pained expression encased his wrinkled visage. The crowd had begun to murmur in confusion. Slowly he swallowed, like forcing down vomit, then became relieved enough to continue.

“That's... that's all. Thank you for coming to listen to me speak,” he shuffled away to the shallow stairs and disappeared, making way for the next speaker.

“Weird,” Chris mumbled. “Maybe air pressure then? Well come on, I want to look at some shops before the countdown reaches zero.”

He jumped up enthusiastically, all starry eyed. “Yeah! I want a new key chain!”

As they carefully navigated the crowd back to the local art shops, Chris shook her head and laughed. “Don't you already have like, six trumpets?” She scolded.

He scoffed and waved a hand. “Pch, sure, but they're all different!”

An hour to go. They browsed, they made small talk, they sat stiff on freezing metal benches outside of local junk shops. Vincent not only snatched up a key chain but a copy of a screen print as well. He turned it upside down and squinted, humming. It was some abstract piece. Flat shapes seemed to wiggle around at him in a colorful confusion.

“Why don't you buy anything?” He asked, tuning the print right side up again.

She shrugged, chilled hands in warming pockets. “I'm not a tourist like you.”

“Heeey, I resent that!” He joked, trying to hide a smile.

Suddenly Chris winched, putting a hand at the nape of her neck. There it was again, that creeping feeling of a splitting headache coming back. She sighed and slowed her pace, feeling nauseous.

“Listen, I think I'm gonna head home.”

Her friend expressed disappointment. “What! It's only fifteen minutes now! Really want to miss Gabriel?”

She nodded, rubbing her neck and looking down. “Yeah, I really feel icky. Besides, I'll probably still hear it in my car if I roll the windows down. I think the crowd and air pressure are just overwhelming me.” Chris did hate to leave her friend to himself, but he was a big boy, even if he was two years younger. She just didn't feel up to staying any longer.

He pretended to pout and waved her goodbye. “See ya at work Monday,” he called across the loud, mingling voices of the festival.

Chris waved back and found her way through downtown, back out into the more empty streets. She pressed a red button. The streetlight sounded and the image turned white so she crossed swiftly on numbed feet. She made it up the car park elevator, found her car among the dimly lit concrete slopes, and finally was on her way home. The headache had yet to return during the trip so she counted herself lucky.

The roads were relatively empty due to the majority of traffic having already settled in to wait for Gabriel's horn, though a few roads were annoyingly blocked off for the event. She was deathly glad for the vacant roads that allowed her to slip out of downtown with an ease she'd not get to enjoy any other day.

“Oh right,” Chris rolled down her side window. Fresh cold air flowed in, which soothed her head a little. “Not long now.”

She was just about out of downtown when it happened. But... there was no horn. No rusty screech, no hum that she'd grown to know so well. However, there was an awful, unaccounted for noise that came from the rolling Heavens. A sharp, quick sound; a hard whispered word blasted her brain and set it on fire. It hurt like Hell. Like the loud screech of white noise when one had forgotten to turn the volume down before pressing 'on.' Chris slammed her breaks and cried, her wheels screaming. Was that what Vincent heard, waiting patiently back in the crowd? Or was it just in her head?

Chris pressed the gas gently, teeth grit and eyes barely open. She veered into an empty parking lot and stopped askew over two spaces. She yanked her hair and pressed her forehead against the wheel then suddenly felt extremely sick. She fumbled for the door then stumbled out. Chris felt pressure and collapsed clumsily to her knees against the broken asphalt. After a few moments some of the pressure let up, but then she heard that word again.

“What's wrong with me?” She slurred, feeling dizzy.

A look around found that she was very much alone. There was nothing but empty parked cars. The pain was suddenly gone. She froze and took a deep breath, her eyes re-focusing and hands shaking. She needed to go to the hospital but did not want to pay for the ambulance. Vincent could drive her. Her hand slowly retrieved the phone from her pocket, but as she pressed the button to find Vincent's contact she heard the word one last time. Sharp, quick, just like the first, but it was more clear.

“Wh-what? I'm hallucinating,” She mumbled, knowing full well that that was not the sound of Gabriel's horn.

“Chrysanthemum,” a loud-quiet voice called out in her head.

“Shit!” She dropped her phone and watched it smack against the faded asphalt.

“Chrysanthemum, don't be afraid. You are not hallucinating. The pain you felt was an... accident,” it explained, lowering its voice.

“God?” Chris called, slipping onto her butt and staring with fear into the sky. She was shaking from head to toe now.

It made a weird sound. “No, we are not a god, though we may seem it to you. We are the noise you call 'Gabriel's Horn,' but we are neither Gabriel nor Horn. The 'Horn' you've heard was merely our days affecting your years as we... tuned equipment,” Not-Gabriel explained plainly.

She glanced from cloud to cloud, brows furrowed so hard her forehead hurt. For a moment she thought if she just searched long enough she'd be able to find the face that was talking down on her.

“It will be difficult for you to understand and will take many of your days to acclimate. Do you at least understand this Chrysanthemum?” It sounded condescending at the end.

Chris scowled. “Well you can't be God if you keep using a name I don't go by,” she complained.

“We are of the 4th dimension. We are not a god. Here. I will touch your insides, it may feel strange,” it warned. “See?”

She screamed and grabbed her stomach. It felt like her acid churned, and suddenly she had heart burn. Chris burped and felt woozy. “That's... ohhh I think mm gonna pahhh-” Chris collapsed heavily to her back, unconscious.

There was nothing, nothing, nothing, then there was something. She saw herself amid a void. It was like a thick goo, as if the gas or lack of gas in the air had solidified. There was no cold nor heat, no apparent up nor down. But then, as she turned her head towards her feet, there was an illumination that lit the ground beneath her. A flat plain decorated with complex, ornate geometry rested below. She squatted against her calves, though it felt years before she came to a halt, and with every tiny change in posture she saw a ghost of her former self.

“Hello?” She called, echoing into the void. Her word simultaneously stuck in the goo and penetrated its atoms all at once. This world was a contradiction.

Something small screamed, a high-pitched trill of terror and shock. Chris glanced down at the geometry and squinted. The geometry was moving; it shivered and vibrated like cells in a body. It was all scrambling so fast compared to her.

“Hello?” She asked again, balancing with a hand so she may come closer.

It screamed again. A tiny little organism wriggled backwards, and across the plain something tickled Chris's hand. She lifted it and gawked with disgust and horror. She'd squished something, and it lay in bits in pieces.

“Whoops, I think I broke something,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Don't smite me!” Squeaked the thing by her feet.

Chris frowned. “What are you? You're so small and... flat.”

It rotated and looked around, but it never once looked up into the sky. The creature could not see anything but the outline of her shoes where she'd stepped atop its planet.

“You don't know?” It asked, sounding only slightly less panicked. “Then you're not God? Are you from Somewhere Else?”

She shook her head, confused. “No, I'm not a god. I'm Chris. And you're a cell?”

“A cell?”

“Yeah, a small organism that can group up to become a bigger organism. I'm full of them. You look like all the diagrams we used in school. But you can talk and I can see your insides. Which is the mitochondria?” She scrutinized the inside of the creature's body. It was sorta gross.

The flat creature's brain was working hard as it stared at the funny outline of Chris's shoes. She could even see it working. It nervously moved around her shape, making a full circle to get a whole picture.

“You're gigantic, please don't hurt me Chris. What do you want?”

“I don't- woah!” She began to sink. The illuminated plain was caving to her weight, but only she passed through. The plain itself remained as flat as ever. “I'm gonna fall!”

The creature's panic sky rocketed as it watched the line gyrate and change, growing larger and longer. “Ahhh!” It yelled, backing into a corner. If Chris continued to grow it would have no way of escape and be crushed against the side of a wall. “What's happening? What's wrong?”

She slipped further. Now it was Chris who was in a panic, scared of the endless black void below the flat planet. She sunk through to her elbows, leaving her to sprawl her arms and claw at the ground for purchase. Across the world her fingers scraped through a once wondrous shape, which crumpled and splintered as she accidentally destroyed its existence.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” She freaked out, heart beating like on a roller coaster. Chris fell.

She gasped, her skin clammy and damp. Everything was too bright and she shielded her eyes.

“You're awake, good. Here,” a man said.

Chris sat up and exhaled, her eyes adjusting. She was in a stranger's house and was being handed a glass of cold water, though the ice inside had since melted. The flat planet was a dream. She had not really scraped a building from the face of a world. As she took the water, her hands shaking, she realized something.

“...You look familiar. Where am I?” She fretted, sipping a little.

He sat across from her in a chair. “What's the last thing you remember?” He asked rather than answer.

She crossed her legs atop the couch and dabbed sweat off with her sleeve. It took some brain power to get any semblance of memory going. “I had some sort of weird... episode. Then I passed out in a parking lot. I think I need a hospital,” Chris groaned.

He grinned. “So you did hear it?”

“What?”

“You heard it? The thing that says its from another dimension?” He was star-struck.

Chris stared down into her cup, thinking. Flashes came back to her until finally she remembered everything, right down to the nausea. A chill came over her body so she sat the cold water down. “It wasn't a hallucination.”

“No it wasn't!” He exclaimed, shivering with excitement. “It spoke to me too! It told me where to find you since you fell unconscious! But we aren't the only ones. It spoke to even more.”

She quirked the corner of her lips and let that information sink in. Suddenly something came to her and she tilted her head curiously. “You're that man from the stage.”

“Call me Cole,” he scooted closer and stuck out a hand.

Chris hesitated, unsure. “Chris.” She shook his hand daintily.

He explained everything. The headache, the ringing in his ears, how he'd been packing up his laptop to leave backstage when the countdown hit zero. To everyone else it had been a disappointment, for this year the horn did not hum to the eager ears awaiting it. Instead, it narrowed down its focus and spoke to them. Chris and Cole, but others, too.

“It told me there were six others. That includes you. So outside of us there are five other people it spoke to directly,” he explained.

“But... why? Just seven people?”

He leaned back in his chair and shrugged, nonchalant. “I asked, after the initial shock and having dropped my laptop (may she rest in peace). It just said: you work for your government.”

Chris looked off, expression soured. It was true. The Postal Service was a branch of the government, but she hardly equated government with the mail.

“What do you do?” She asked him nervously.

“Department of Energy.”

Chris got the creeping notion that his house was vaguely radioactive. Or, at the very least, he was. “Great.” She stretched her legs over the couch's edge and stared at her shoes awkwardly. “So now what?”

“We wait to be called upon,” he answered simply. “I'll go start some tea,” and like that Cole was out the room.

So they waited and waited. Chris thumbed through books as she did, glancing at Cole's collection and idly sipping tea. Sometimes she'd get the fear that he was making it all up, that this was all a scheme to kidnap her without freaking her out. Or that maybe he was just some guy screwing with her head. But then her stomach would churn and she'd remember how it felt to be touched. Chris felt queasy. At the same time she couldn't help but feel... honored? It was strange. This was all so new to her.

Finally it came to them. This time there was no pain, no headaches or heartburn. Cole fell to his knees as soon as the creature spoke, but Chris just sank shakily back into couch, empty teacup in hand.

“You will be transported to a location for study,” it said.

Cole nodded his head and agreed instantly, but Chris found herself asking it: “Why? And where?”

“Why: a 'mutual' exchange of information in a controlled environment. Where: the center of your 'country' in a long-term observation facility.”

She balked. “For how long?” But Cole spoke over her.

“That's brilliant! Brilliant! Have you spoke to the president? Surely you have,” he clasped his hands together and smiled.

“...Yes. Unfortunately. Some deep convincing was needed to induce submission,” it replied with obvious irritation.

Chris was uncomfortable and suspicious of the wording, though she was not surprised the president was a nuisance to converse with. The creature assured them there would be at least a day or two before anyone came for collection, so they had some time to prepare. Cole questioned why this creature could not simply pick them up and plop them back down, but it was uncertain that such action would be healthy. So again they played a waiting game.

Chris went back to her house. Cole stayed in his. Sunday dawned upon the world and there was no one yet at their doors. Chris paced uneasily in her little home, her suitcases already packed in the living room. She didn't know what to do with herself. Couldn't even stomach trying to explain anything to Vincent or Mildred. Hell, did she even want to leave? She was sure she had no choice.

Finally, come Monday morning, there was a knock at her door. She jumped from bed and scrambled to answer, a measly robe tossed across her shoulders. A stoic man dressed in all black was there to greet her, his eyes unreadable though they crinkled. She could sense some strange dread in him from his hard posture alone. Only the automatic light of her porch lit their way as this stranger led her to the car.

Cole was there, his white teeth gleaming at her as she boarded. Despite his cheer, Chris felt like she was in a daze the entire time. Her hands settled frozen in her lap and eyes glued to the window. She watched her little town pass her by just as the night drifted to day. The ugly office building next to the apartments, the fenced off government buildings. There went the post office. She sighed.

Where are you? Vincent texted Chris when they were already hours from town.

Her thumbs hovered sleepily over the keys. She didn't know what to say. Eventually she just settled for:

It's been a long weekend. I don't know when I'll be able to come in again. Something's happened

…

Are you sick?

Don't know what I'm allowed to say. I'll text later. Xoxo

Well that's not totally vague but ok

…

Tell me if u need soup fam

Chris smiled at her phone. She really hoped this didn't cause her to lose her job, even if it was something way more pressing than delivering mail. She'd miss her co-workers the most. Even Mildred. With any luck the 'long-term' in 'long-term research facility' wouldn't be any more long-term than a vacation.

The driver drove non-stop, through the night and the day, across interstates and through small cities. It was unnerving. Cole whispered that he was sure the creature was to blame, even though it hadn't spoken the whole trip.

“It's fascinating,” he whispered.

Chris hummed and faked a smile in acknowledgment before staring back out the window. All she could think was what a weird vacation before she found herself nodding off.

“We've arrived,” the driver announced as sudden as summer rain.

Chris jerked, her stinging eyes glued in confusion to the dim window. They were inside of a painfully lit parking garage and there were droves of black-suits and white-coats to greet them. She must have fallen asleep for some time.

“Thank you,” she heard Cole dully as his door was opened for him. Her door was next.

“Have you been in contact?” Asked a man sternly, no trace of emotion in his voice.

She furrowed her brows. “What?”

He didn't miss a beat. “With the 4DB?”

Both she and her jittery acquaintance were being led away through the garage. Someone gently guided her through a door with a palm against her back.

“The... the Four Dee Bee?”

The man re-adjusted the wireless device in his ear, lips crinkling. “The Fourth Dimensional Being.”

Chris began to sweat and tried to explain. “Not since before we were told we'd be sent here, but-”

A woman patted her shoulder nonchalantly and shook her head. “Can't even wait till she's in the room huh?” She teased her co-worker, her heels clicking against the hall tile. “We're just eager, don't be afraid! You and Mr. Artrip will speak with a scientist and be briefed before joining the others. This was all very sudden so don't mind the dust bunnies.”

Chris nodded quietly, glancing ahead to get a glimpse of Cole- Mr. Artrip. This was all so weird and she felt she had some sort of jet lag. She wondered when she'd be allowed to talk with the creature again. It had been a few days now.

“And then after everyone's settled it's about meal time! But first,” she carefully pushed Chris into a dimly lit room, had a quick word with her co-worker, then silently shut the door. “Have a seat.”

She did as she was told. Chris sat before a small wooden table, as if this was meant to make the room more inviting than it really was. It just made her feel interrogated. Or like she'd been called to the principal’s office.

The woman took a seat across from her and peeked into a thin file. After a short pause she looked up, smiled, and said. “Chrysanthemum Sain... tell me everything.”

Read CH2 early on Patreon or wait for it to go public!

#terato #monster lover #monster romance #tentacles #exophilia #writing #short story

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

Note

Ah I see you’re taking requests 👀 imagine being doused with a lust potion and the only way to save her is for Geralt to have her all night long. Smutty but angsty cuz Geralt feels guilty for having to do it when she’s out of her mind? Especially because he has been pining for her secretly maybe?

A/N: I changed a few minor things up and made it super angst because I can’t help myself. Also tbh I’m new to smut and I don’t know how this is so please give me feedback :) I really hope this is angsty enough

Warnings: smut duh, lust curse, praise kink if you squint, hair pulling, cunnilingus, tell me if I forgot anything because my memory is shit

***

You could hear Geralt and Jaskier just outside of the door to your room. You sat on the edge of the bed, your elbows on your knees and your hands over your face, rocking steadily back and forth.

The burning in your lower abdomen was driving you insane. Your entirety tingled, begging for attention. You could feel the wetness pooling in your panties, threatening to soak through at any second. You needed to be touched, you needed to be fucked.

Hearing Geralt’s deep voice shout at Jaskier made you moan softly. Your brows drew together as you pushed your thighs together even more in a fruitless attempt to control yourself. Just hearing the witcher made your cunt flood with lust and desire. When the hell would this torture end?

It had been four hours since you three ran into a witch in town who had been putting curses on civilians. The curses varied from hideous deformities to more extreme, more lethal things. One of the poor souls to have crossed the witch died from spontaneous combustion. Another died of gorging herself on food.

You had been lucky enough to be cursed with some sort of lust spell. Geralt could sense it, he could smell it. The spell infected your blood, making you smell sweet and delicious. But it took you a while to feel the effects of the curse. You were fine at first, just a little unsteady on your feet. You and the two men you traveled with returned to the inn you were staying at just in time for the curse hit you like a brick wall.

Out of no where, your throat became dry and your fingers and thighs trembled with anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure. Your mind was too clouded, swarming with a white hot desire.

Right now, Geralt and Jaskier were out in the hallway trying to figure out what to do with you. They couldn’t just leave you in your room alone. The curse would kill you. If not tonight, then eventually. The witch always made sure of it.

Geralt wasn’t too keen on going into your room to babysit you. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d be walking into, but he didn’t want to risk anything. He didn’t want to ruin the strong friendship between you two.

Jaskier knew it wouldn’t be a good idea for him to be the one in charge of making sure you didn’t die or do something stupid. You were an attractive woman and his self control wasn’t the best. He was a lover, a people pleaser. The second you’d start whining or begging him to do anything, he’d cave in and potentially kill you or himself–or both–all because of the damned curse.

You stood to your feet and paced across the room. Your hand cupped your sensitive breast through the thin silk material of your nightgown. You needed to feel something. You were desperate. You’d do anything to get release. You growled in frustration and put your hand by your side. Fuck witches. Fuck magic. Fuck all of them.

The door opened and Geralt stepped in. His scent hit your nose almost instantly and vertigo claimed your balance. You braced yourself against the wooden dresser, your head turning to look at the witcher.

“How do you feel?”

Like I’m on fucking fire and you’re the water. Put me the fuck out, you bastard.

“Fine.” You gritted through clenched teeth, tearing your hungry gaze away from him. Your thoughts weren’t yours, but in a sense they were. You had felt something for the witcher since you met him. He’d saved your life and ever since, you’d hopelessly fallen for him.

You closed your eyes tightly. You rubbed your thighs together again. This time you tried to get some sort of pressure on your throbbing sex. You needed release or you feared your body would explode.

“Leave.” Instead of the word coming out strong and stern, it was a soft plea.

“I can’t do that, Y/N.” He shook his head.

“I-I don’t want you to see me like this.” You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you nearly moaned at the sound of his voice.

If his voice could do that to you, just imagine what his massive cock could–

“Please, Ger-Geralt.”

“I am here for you, Y/N, to ensure that you don’t hurt yourself.”

You shook your head. Your entirety trembled, vibrating as you struggled to control yourself. Your body wanted to move, to dash across the room and throw yourself on the monstrous man with the intoxicating scent, a delicious mixture of man and earth. But you had just enough control to stay where you were.

“Did you find that fucking witch?” Your voice shook just as bad as your body.

“Yes. In order…. In order to break the curse, you’ll need to bed someone.” He muttered out, clearly a little embarrassed.

Hot tears burned your vision. They were tears of need, a need so violent that you weren’t sure what to do.

“I’m not going to fuck some bastard just because the curse is making me feel like this.”

You were pretty sure you just lied through your teeth. Should the intensity of the curse get any strong, you knew you’d go downstairs to the tavern and find someone to release you from the curse.

“You-You can’t stay.” You whispered, stiffly shaking your head. “If-If you stay…. I can’t promise that I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Geralt furrowed his brows together and locked his jaw. If you didn’t bed with someone, you were going to die. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you as more than a friend. You were extraordinary. Your were tough and aggressive when needed. You’d easily scare any man who dared to approach you with ill-intentions. However when you looked at him, your gaze softened and twinkled.

But he also admired your physique, the way your nightgown hugged your curves, how your hardened nipples stuck out through the thin silk of your gown. He loved the way your ass moved when you walked away from him. You shook your hips a little more than necessary when he was watching you.

“Fuck, Geralt.” The whine left your lips without your permission. You were going mad. You pushed yourself away from the dress and crossed the room. He stayed in his spot, amber eyes watching you carefully. You only stopped when you stood toe to toe with the witcher. Your hands came up to his chest but just before you could feel him up, his large hands wrapped around your wrists. You moaned at the feeling of skin to skin contact. The desperation you felt would’ve made you sick had you not been under the curse.

Your pained eyes met his and your brows furrowed together.

“Please, Geralt. Please.” You were breathless just from being this close to him. “If-If you-If you don’t, I will die.”

A growl rested in the back of his throat at the thought of you dying. But he restrained himself from doing what you asked of him. It didn’t feel right to bed you, not while you were under this spell. Surely you didn’t feel anything towards except the primal need to fuck.

“I can’t do that to you, Y/N.”

“Yes you can!” You leaned into his chest, your eyes closing tightly as you tried to breathe correctly. “You-You do it with wenches all the damn time! Why am I any different?”

“Because you are my friend and you aren’t in control of yourself right now. It would be taking advantage of you.” Geralt was almost proud of himself for how much self-control he managed to have. The room was thick with arousal, your arousal and desire.

“You aren’t taking advantage of me if I want this! I-I’ve wanted this for ages, Geralt. I’ve wanted you to fuck me like dirty little whore.”

His breath hitched. You ducked your head down so that you could reach his hand that was latched to your wrist. You nipped at his fingers and moaned at the taste.

“You aren’t in the right state of mind, Y/N.”

“The hell I am!” You jerked against his iron grip but you would’ve had better luck pushing a brick wall than getting him to release you. “Ask Jaskier! The damned bard knows exactly how I feel about you. He knows that I long to be the one you take to bed, the one you hold while you sleep.”

His silence did nothing to help your situation. You let out a pained cry as a surge of what felt like electricity courses through you. Your knees buckled and you would have fallen had Geralt not grabbed you. He steadied you on your feet, his hands releasing your wrists.

“You want this?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, Geralt.” You placed your hand on the front of his trousers where his semi hard cock was. He inhaled sharply at your sudden actions. “I need you to fuck me hard, witcher.”

Geralt tore your hand away from him and in the same instant he pushed you back on to the bed. You giggled triumphantly. You rubbed your thighs together and bit you bottom lip, watching as he practically tore his tunic shirt off.

He climbed on to the bed to hover over you. One of his hands propped himself up next to your head while the other held your face so he could kiss you deeply, sensually. You almost cried at the delicious feeling of his lips on yours. It was euphoric, heavenly. Your hand came up to tangle in his white hair, tugging softly to urge him to do more.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” He pulled away just enough to whisper those words against your lips.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re saving my life.” Your lips left his to leave kisses along his scratchy jaw. The burn between your legs had subsided when he first kissed you, but now it was slowly returning.

He took his hand away from your face so he could use the pad of his index finger to trail a line from your lips down your neck and finally to your breasts. The nightgown you wore had a low cut neck so he was able to push the neckline down and underneath the curve of your breasts. The cold air hitting your nipples made your back arch off the bed. Your hand found his bicep, squeezing him tightly.

“Please, Geralt.”

“Patience, dove.” He breathed into your ear and then began to kiss down the side of your neck. He found your pulse just beneath your jaw and teasingly nipped at the sensitive skin. You jolted, lips parting with a moan.

The fire between your thighs grew but the rest of your body was content with his attention on your breasts. His teeth bit at your sensitive skin. The material to your nightgown was being pulled up to reveal your drenched panties.

“Geralt, fuck.” Your fingers fisted the linens. “Fuck, I-I can’t wait.”

“I just need to make sure you’re ready for me, dove.” He took ahold of the waistband of your panties and easily ripped the thin material. You gasped at the tingling sensation it left behind.

His mouth continued its gentle assault on your tit, teeth dragging across your nipple. His hand between your legs tentatively dipped into your soaking core. You cried out as he stuck his thick index into you. Your hips bucked for more, begging him to do more. He sat back on his knees next to you. His hand withdrew from your heat. He grabbed your legs behind the bend of your knees and turned you on the bed so that he was between your parted legs. One of his hands pinned your hips to the mattress while his opposite went back to your cunt. The rough pad of his fingertips against your clit made you jump, but he kept you in place.

“Fuck, dove. You’re soaked.” He breathes out. Liquid amber eyes gazed at your core with hunger.

“All for you, Geralt.” You whined pitifully.

“Good girl.” He smirked devilishly. He worked his index in and out of you, enjoying the way you’d mewl or whine because it wasn’t enough. He added another finger. His opposite hand came down so that his thumb could rub your clit. His massive hand still held your hips down as he rubbed lazy circles into the most sensitive part of you. Your knees bent just slightly and your legs spread wide, urging him to take her.

Your head fell to the side, your fingers tightening even more around the linens. The heat in your stomach was intense, growing the more he worked you with his thick rough fingers. Your orgasm was coming and Geralt could see that. His fingers suddenly left your cunt and you whimpered at the loss. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to get yourself to relax. You could feel your heart against your rib cage, begging to be freed.

Geralt hooked his hands beneath your knees and pushed them closer to your chest, revealing your entirety to him. Had you not been so clouded by desire and need, you’d be a little embarrassed at how carnal his gaze was as he admires your pretty, slick folds.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours as he lowered himself to be level with your cunt. He hummed deep from within his chest, almost like he was purring with content. He licked a hot stripe up your slit. His eyes shut as your taste envelopes him.

One of your hands left the linens to tangle in his hair. Just as he sucked sharply on your swollen clit, you tugged at his white hair. He moaned deeply, the vibrations from the moan could be felt on your heat as he continued his delicious assault on your cunt. He kept you in place on the bed, refraining you from bucking up against him no matter how hard you tried.

One of his hands left its position on the back of your knee so that he could slide two fingers into your soaking cunt. You whined, your fingers curling tighter around his hair. He moved quick, his thick digits filling the emptiness inside while his lips and tongue worked on your clit.

You were blindsided by you orgasm, your toes curling and your back arching off the bed. Your eyes closed tightly and you bit your bottom lip. As wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you, his actions became softer, working you through your climax. Your body trembled, muscles convulsing as you moaned his name.

He pulled away and smirked just a little, watching your chest rise and fall with every heavy breath. Your eyes slowly opened and you met his gaze.

“Good girl.”

The praise sent a new wave of tingling sensations through your body. The burning in your abdomen returned, causing you to whine softly. He worked to undo his trousers and push them down just enough to free his massive cock. You moaned, your mouth watering at the sight. You sat up, using one hand to hold yourself that way while your opposite reached out to take his thick length. You didn’t even get a chance to touch his beautifully hard member before Geralt’s fingers wrapped around yours, tugging your hand away from him.

“Not now.”

“But I want to, Geralt.” You pleaded. You desperately wanted to taste him, to feel his heavy length on your tongue.

“Next time.” He murmured gently, bringing his hand up to cup your face. His thumb brushed across your flushed cheek, admiring the pink tinge that came from your orgasm.

You turned your head to take his thumb between your teeth, sucking and moaning softly. He grunted at the action and didn’t dare to move his hand. His opposite hand came up to wrap around his girth. He pumped himself a couple times, then tapped the swollen head of his cock against your opening. You jolted each time, your oversensitive cunt leaking even more for him.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, brushing the wet pad over your lips. You me lips fell open in a whiny moan as he pushed the head of his length into your cunt. The burning in your abdomen was briefly replaced with a stinging pain that came with being stretched open by his huge cock. Your brows furrowed together and tears pricked your vision. Your eyes closed. Geralt put one hand on your thigh, holding your leg to his hip. His other hand held the side of your neck. He dipped his head down to put his lips beside your ear, whispering softly in encouragement. He moved gently in and out of you, working more of his length into you little by little.

“You’re such a good girl for me, dove. Taking me in your tight cunt.”

“Fuck.” You cursed through gritted teeth as his pelvis met yours. He was sheathed fully inside of you, your walls fluttering and pulsating around him. He breathed heavily through his nose, pressing his lips to your damp forehead. Your hand came up to hold his bicep, fingers curling into the muscular flesh. The pain was subsiding but your legs were tingling from the stillness. “Move.”

He pulled out all the way and carefully pushed back in. This happened a few more times before you laid back on the bed and brought your hand down to your cunt. Before you got a chance to rub your needy clit, he knocked your hand out of the way. His thumb brushed tight circles against you.

“Harder.” You begged, your hand still holding his opposite bicep. “Please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was shaky. It was taking every ounce of self control he had not to fuck you like he desired.

“Please, Geralt!” You cried out, bucking your hips against him. He grunted, his hand leaving your cunt to hold your hips own. “Fuck me like the whore I am. Please.”

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you?”

“Fuck! Yes! Yes, I will!”

Geralt was conflicted. He didn’t want to hurt you, especially with your mind being hazy from the curse. But you wanted this, and admittedly he did too.

He took your hands and pulled you into his lap, his cock still buried deep inside you. His thick arms wrapped around you, encasing you in his sweaty, protective hold. You took the chance to kiss his jaw, moaning at the tingling of his scruff against your sensitive lips.

He began to thrust up into you, his fingers digging into your thigh and your hip. The dirty squelching sound of his cock pushing back into your soaked cunt filled the room. You bit his bottom lip, urging him to kiss you.

His tongue slipped into your mouth and you gladly took it, enjoying the taste of him. His grip on your skin was sure to leave bruises as he held you where he wanted you, thrusting in and out at a rapid pace.

Suddenly, you were falling backwards on to the bad, a little yelp of surprise escaped your lips followed by a breathy moan as his thick cock slipped from your folds. He hooked one arm underneath your knee and moved so that he was laying over you. He held you open, exposing you to him as he lined himself up to your dripping cunt.

In one swift push, he sheathed himself inside of you. He swallowed your moans as he latched his lips to yours. You’re almost there, on the verge of coming undone beneath the witcher. Your nails claw at his skin, leaving red, angry raised lines.

“Come on, dove. Be a good girl for me. Cum for me.” He panted out against your lips. Your head falls back, bearing your neck to him as you moan and allow the orgasm to wash over you. Your body trembled and twitched in his arms. His teeth bit at your pulse as he worked you through the orgasm, chasing his own in the process.

You chanted his name like a quiet prayer, holding him cas close as possible. With one final thrust, he spilled his load deep inside you. You whined at the feeling of his hot cum in your tight cunt. You squeezed and milked everything he had to offer, savoring the feeling.

He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot and tingly on your skin. Your finger loosen on his back and your body slowly untenses. His softening cock slipped from you, causing a little whine to escape your lips. You could feel the mixture of your juices and his cum dripping from your used cunt.

He rolled off of you and on to his side. His eyes stuck to you, watching the way you tried to even your breathing.

“How do you feel?” His voice was quiet and husky.

“Better.” A lazy, dazed smile crossed your lips. You turned your head to look at him. The cloudiness was gone. You could think straight. “Thank you.”

He gave you a half hearted smile, one that made your stomach twist. It wasn’t real.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized quietly, looking back to the ceiling.

“You did nothing wrong.” He gently shook his head.

“I-I practically made you do that.” Your voice broke down to a feeble whisper. You turned your head away from him. Your chest tightened with an unfamiliar pain. You feared you were going to lose him because of this. “I’m-I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t make me do a damn thing.”

When you didn’t look at him, he put his hand on your cheek and made you look at him.

“My only regret is that you regret this.”

You shook your head, brows furrowing together. Your gaze met his amber eyes.

“I-I don’t regret this. I mean-I don’t regret doing it with you. I just wish it was under different circumstances.“ You turned over on your side to face him. You brought your hand up to cradle his stubbled jaw. You admired the dark and graying stubble, the way it softly burned your skin. “I’ve fancied you for as long as I’ve known you.”

He grumbled deep within his chest, a sound of disagreement.

“You think I’m lying to you?” You quirked a brow up. When he said nothing, you leaned over to softly kiss his lips. This one was different than the previous ones you shared with the witcher. This was gentle and lazy. You were no longer chasing an orgasm. You were just there. “I was honest earlier when I said you could ask Jaskier of my feelings towards you.” You placed your head on his chest. “I just wish our first time had been more romantic.”

His hand came to rest on your lower back, his thumb tracing circles into your warm skin.

“Romance is overrated.” He assured you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

Taglist: @riviawitch3r @rosyghosty @itsallyouhavegotinsideyourhead @lalalalemonade11 @tshuuls @jennylovelyheart @queen-sands

p.s. if I didn’t tag you and you want to be added to the NSFW Witcher taglist I’ve got, let me know. On the same note if you don’t want to be added to the NSFW Witcher taglist let me know. When some of you said you wanted to be added to a taglist you either said both or said taglists so I just want to make sure that I’ve everyone where they are suppose to be :)

#queenxxxsupreme #request

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ketsuyuki-hibana-typed · 5 years

Note

Hi,it’s me again. I read your writing ever since the first one and I need to say. It was all so good!!!! No wonder you got you got 100 followers! Congratulation😘 Anyway, I would like to make a request again. Can I pretty please have a h/c Kyojuro with a people pleaser s/o who felt that she doesn’t deserved to be love so she tried so hard too hard to please people?

Hi!! Thank you for the kind words!! 💮🌸🌺 I will never reach 100 if it's not from your supports!!

This one is common insecurity, especially for women. It's natural for people when they don't want to be hated. But some people really overdid it. Hope what I wanted to say will reach my readers!

Remember, YOUR HAPPINESS MATTERS AND KYOUJUROU NEEDS YOU! *virtual hugs and kisses*

Kyoujurou x People-Pleaser!Reader

Kyoujurou admired her, on how she fighting, how she's walking even how her dazzling hair shimmering in sun light

But he didn't like one thing

She always put people first, including Kyoujurou and she will be the last choice

She decided it will be like that for the rest of her life

Kyoujurou couldn't count on how she often put herself in danger or how often she's right away told people she could do it

"Don't think about me, I'm fine!!"

"Let me do it for you! Just sit back."

"You don't need to do it anyway. I'll do them all!"

Kyoujurou, in fact, is kinda pissed to see people asking her help

Yep, 'kinda', because he knew it's not 100% their fault and that they just take advantage of her because her kindness is infinity

Kyoujurou could see "those invisible wounds", it's thousands and increased gradually

Sometimes, the people who asked her help were angry because she couldn't fulfill what they requested.

If Kyoujurou was there, he had to step up, smiled while shoving her out of scene and said, "Why don't you do it by yourself?" with unusual threatening aura

He never let this aura out except for demon. Hideous.

But what made Kyoujurou's heart shattered is,

How she will just smile and said , "I'm fine!"

He couldn't let this happen again

After fighting demons in pair mission, they were on way back to home. And they met kind lady who gave them a room to rest

He said nothing and pulled her hand, made her sit on his lap

"Kyoujurou, what's the matter?"

He put his chin on her head, squeezing her into his embrace

"???"

"Just... Let me be like this for awhile."

She didn't said anything, but hugged his big arm. It's so warm

He took her palm, looking at the bruises, looking at unspeakable pain

"What is this?"

"Uh? I helped a young man pulled his cart, but it's so heavy. And I ended up bruised my hand."

"It shouldn't be like this."

He kissed the bruises.

"Please, I'm begging you to not force yourself. You can say 'no' if you think you couldn't do it."

"I love people's smile. They gave me energy. That's why I'll help people no matter what." She smiled while playing his long hair. "No more or less."

"No, you don't."

"Kyoujurou?"

He rolled her body and pushed her down, gripping her hand above her head. She shocked and whimpered in pain

"No you don't. I never see warm smile on your lips. You overdid it. You helped people too much to the point you didn't care about yourself. That's toxic. That's unacceptable."

She never looks Kyoujuro like this. His raging eyes, his trembled lips, or how he fastened the grip above

"You will die faster if you keep it like this. Not physically but mentally."

"I will not." She was letting out some chocked voice. "I helped people so they don't have to be in trouble!"

She gritted her teeth

"What is the purpose of me being alive? To help people! To cherish them! I can't think straight if I ever thought I'm so useless in this community! I didn't deserve people's kindness especially you! I can't bear the feeling when people left me! I'm afraid if I'll be alone!!!"

"I AM HERE!" She stunned

A big tear dropped on top of her cheeks. He cried. She never saw he cried like this. Not in front of her

"You have me and that should be enough. You don't have to afraid of people leaving. They just taken you from granted. I can't stand you live like this!"

He loosened his grips, putting his head beside her ear

"I wanted to see your genuine smile. Please, please I need you. I need you to be happy. That's enough. Please take care of yourself. Find something that could please you genuinely. You are too important for me."

She stoned

But eventually, she cried too and letting out ugly sobs

Kyoujurou knew, the wall inside her crumbled into the dust. She's tired, she's actually tired of being nice, tired of people's shit, tired of people nagging to her.

"I'm sorry. I just- I didn't think I will be a matter. I didn't think I could deserve your kindness."

"No, don't say that." He caressed her teary cheek. "You are matter. So next time, if people asked your help and you couldn't do it, say no. Just say it. So what if that person hated you? It's just a human. There are so much people with genuine kindness and deserves your help."

She nodded. She has enough of this shit, and Kyoujurou will help her standing for herself

He promised, he will never leave this girl alone

#kny imagines #rengoku kyojuro #kny #rengoku reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu anime #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba scenarios #rengoku kyoujuro x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #kyoujuro rengoku #kyoujuro rengoku x reader #kyoujuro x reader #rengoku x reader #kny rengoku #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #kyoujurou rengoku

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all-things-fic · 5 years

Note

Divorced Harry.... would you ever write it? X

A/N: I’m thinking of making this some sort of series as I think the whole concept of failed relationship definitely has many layers that can be explored. This is something that I’ve written really quickly but after I received a few asks about writing divorced!harry, I’ve finally decided to post this piece. I’m so crap with writing at the moment, so hopefully some of you enjoy this pure angst and I’ll get around to exploring the way the story can flow in its different stages.

I actually kinda liked slipping in the part of y/n losing their identity to motherhood and definitely want to delve into that some more.

Just so everyone is aware this piece hasn’t been 100% proofed so any grammar, long sentence/short sentences etc were probably written in an erractive fashion (I suppose a bit like a though process during an argument etc). Sorry if this puts anyone off reading! x

~*~

You weren’t quite sure how you’dgotten where you were. This is closest the two been in weeks, maybe evenmonths, the most emotive the two of you had definitely been for months.

But still you stood, in the dim lightof your kitchen, listening to your husband sniffle against the cotton of yourpyjama shirt, which was damp with tears, sweat and everything in between.

His muffled pleas hidden by theclothing, his lips sometimes moving but you unable to decipher what he wassaying into your skin. Probably how much he loved you.

You stood somewhat rigid in front ofhim. Arms loose by your side as his hands gripped to your hips and stomach,pressing his face so tightly there that you were sure he would suffocate.

This was how it got sometimes withHarry. For weeks he wouldn’t say a thing and then he would either blow up andshare a temper with you that was far and few between, or his emotion would getthe better of him and his vulnerability overruled.

Marriage wasn’t easy, in fact nothingwas with Harry. But you couldn’t deny that it wasn’t worth it. Which was whyyou were still there, ten years down the line and three children in. Definitely,no more.

Six, three and 18 months was morethan enough for you to handle. And baby number three was never meant to be athing. Because baby three had never entered your plans, two children alwayswhat you wanted. But baby number three was so wanted by you both, especially asbaby number three was your little girl.

The little girl that you and Harrylonged for, not that you didn’t love your two boys.

But for you to handle and you tohandle alone was exactly how it felt.

And this time around he’d done acouple of things that pushed your buttons too far, like coming home later thanhe had originally planned to. Choosing to spend time entertaining pretty ladiesat The Nice Guy with Jeff and Tommy. Ladies that had just so happened to havebeen signed to Full Stop Management.

And you knew he wouldn’t cheat; itwasn’t in his nature but sometimes it was hard not to let your mind wander whenyou looked down at yourself covered in baby sick and housing hair that hadneeded a wash at least four days ago.

It was you, totally you. But hedidn’t help matters in the way he was nice and tried to please everyone.Everyone never really seemed to be your or your kiddies though. Everyone butyou and your kiddies even.

And you were a little bit bitter.

His life had sprung back time andtime again after each new addition where as yours seemed to slip further andfurther away.

His body had sprung back, regardlessof him putting on sympathy weight each time. He looked every inch the DILF onthe playground, cause to give credit where it was due when he returned home, hepicked up his end of the deal too.

He did the school run and the bathtime, even going as far as to run you a bath too every second night and givingyou a large glass of wine now that breast feeding was being phased out. BecauseHarry was always eager to stress that Mommy needed her time too.

And you knew standing here afterdelivery the blow of wanting a break, sometime apart, had been a shock to him.But to you it had been a long time coming.

He hadn’t been home for more than acouple of hours and he’d done the homework with your eldest in the kitchenwhile he sorted dinner. And he’d done the bath time too. He’d even offered todo the bedtime, but you were still a little too attached (some would say) toyour third. Because while she wasn’t in your plans to begin with you couldn’timagine life without her now and the thought of her being your final child wasproving hard to swallow. Even if you knew you were adamant that there wouldn’tbe a fourth.

He glowed when you returned to thekitchen, having snuck down to dim the lights in the kitchen and set up the twoplates of food for you to enjoy together at the breakfast bar.

Glasses of red shined under the dimlight and the setting was everything that would’ve once made you sigh dreamilyat him for being so thoughtful but now you wondered if he had done somethingwrong in Los Angeles.

Dinner was strained, small talk atbest. Your answers clipped and short. You finished your wine with ease, pouringyourself another while Harry let out an aggravated sigh.

“What’s that for?” you said, lookingat him defiantly as you plucked up the glass and drank, holding his eyes theentire time.

“Barely touched your food,” hecommented, making your eyes drop to the quintessential English dinner.

“Not hungry.“

“Do you think you should?”

You raised your eyebrow at him inchallenge to his question. Daring him to go on, clarifywhat you’re saying.

“S’jus she still wakes in the night,“he started “and well, thought you still liked to soothe her in the night wi’theboob-“

“Well, Daddy’s here to save the day,”you sarcastically responded. “Time for you to pick up the slack, H”

You took a larger sip of your wineafter that, letting the delicate glass hit the countertop of you kitchen, fingerssliding up and down the stem of the glass as you tried to calm yourself.

“And how’d you suppose I do that; notlike I can grow tits in the next three or so hours is it?”

You gritted your teeth at his tone,pushing yourself off of the breakfast bar stool and leaving your glass on thekitchen island. Scooping up your plate you emptied the remainder of your foodin the bin and rinsed off your plate before stacking it into the dishwasher.

Harry sighed again; this time sadderthan the last. “Love,” he started, “just have your wine-“

“Don’t want it now,” you commented,snappily, shutting the dishwasher and reaching for the washcloth to wipe downthe kitchen work surfaces.

You felt his eyes on you as youmanically wiped everything down. Next his hand was coming down softly overyours, stopping it against the surface.

“Leave it, can be done in themorning.“

You snatched your hand away, “Won’thave time in the morning, will be doing everything bloody else won’t I?”

His jaw ticked as he closed his eyesand breathed deeply. “Oh, here he comes, thinking he knows what’s best. Beenback four hours and thinks he should have a parent of the year award.“

“Darlin-“ his tone was hard, tryingto get you to stop your triad before you could get any worse.

“Don’t ‘darlin’ me, Harry-“ you shook your head at him. “You swan in andout of this house like you’re the Queen of Sheba and then you’re back to do acouple of hours of your Daddy shift and apparently everyone should listen toyou- “

You paused, staring at him watchingthe way he ran his tongue over the front of his teeth as he clenched his jawagain.

“And I wouldn’t worry about thinkingabout my drinking. Weren’t so concerned when you were lording it up in The NiceGuy four nights ago as if you weren’t a Dad of three with a wife at home.“

His eyes flashed at you now, his bodyjust as pent up as yours.

“S’tha what this is about-“

“That’s just the fuckin’ cherry-“ youseethed. Cause it really was only the beginning.

“Is it?” He was harsh with hisquestion, nostrils flared. “Cause if you’re insinuating what I think you are I’dhave a long hard think before you actually say it-“

“Is that you threatening me?” Youasked, eyes dark as they held his. “What if I don’t have a long hard think-“

His clenched his jaw as he kept hiseyes on you. You laughed harshly, just the one “ha!”, before you said, “Youknow what I think I will finish that glass of wine, might have the whole bottleand fuck it.“

He shook his head, closing his eyesand pinching the bridge of his nose as his exhausted body fell slightly againstthe cupboards behind him.

You busied yourself with turn aroundto the island and keeping your back facing him as you sipped at your largeglass of wine and empty the rest of the bottle into the glass.

His feet against the wood flooringlet you know that he was fidgeting behind you, an almost audible swallow thenext thing you heard from him before he asked, softer than you thought hewould, “What’s brought this on?”

“It appears your wife has hadenough.“

“I’d quite like my wife to come backto me and talk to me.“

“Well your wife doesn’t really wantto be in the same house as you right now-“

He looked at you as he noticed the wayyou turned around to look at him, defiant and quite frankly fed up.

“And you don’t get to decide what your wifedoes when you think it’s okay to leave your familya week longer than you originally pencilled in just because you want a break from the break thatyou’re already on in a sunny country re-recording singles that didn’t need re-recordingbut you’re too much of a peoplepleaser that you listened to thetalking heads at your label in too much depth.“

“Nah they’re just the thing keeping aroof over your head but fuck them, right? And fuck me too, yeah?”

That one stung.

That one was too much of a low blowbecause you were successful in your own right. Were you a multimillionaire? No.But your name was also on the deeds of this house just as much as his were. Healways made it clear what was his was yours. You did the hard job of making thehouse a home and gave him the family he had always dreamed of. He said so himself.

“Fuck you-“

“S’wha I just said, fuck me!“

The two of you stood in the kitchen,staring at each other nostrils flaring and chests heaving as you breathedheavily. Pent up anger as plain as day to see before you slowly reached forwardand took a slow sip of your wine, watching Harry rest his hands against thecounter top and bow his head.

“God, you piss me off so much,” hemumbled under his breath, shoulders pinched high and taut.

“I piss you off,” you wereincredulous, voice light however in tone. “You should be me, mate. If only Icould aimlessly come and go as I please out of this place and still have a lifethat doesn’t revolve around smelling of baby sick and not recognising who I seein the mirror. Yeah, I’m sure I’d be pissed off too. S’a hard life, that.”

You took another swig of your wine, alonger pull this time from the glass and set it abruptly onto the kitchencounter. You saw the way his head rolled up to look at you, taking in yourwords and letting his eyes roll over your being.

You didn’t dare look at him, knowinghe’d see straight through your anger for what it really was. Sadness.Vulnerability. Lost and void.

He would see the way you had barelyleft the house through the entirety of your last post-partum weeks with BabyGirl Styles. Outside of baby groups and hospital check-ups, you didn’t go outfor time with the girls, or even time for just yourself.

“You don’t recognise yourself in themirror?” He questioned, repeating your words back to you, in a solemn tone thatmatched the way you felt about them.

You tutted, sipping at your wineagain as he looked up at you from under his brow.

“Don’t do that-“

“Stop telling me what to do.“

You watched him breathe deeply as yousnapped at him again.

“Don’t dismiss your feelings-“

“What? Like you do? Beingphotographed in LA with girls half my size, half my age-“ you jutted out yourlips in question to his comment.

You had him there, even if it wasstrictly business. A picture, regardless of what was said, did not tell athousand words. And even if it did, they were most likely wrong.

“I tell you every day I love you,”you clenched your jaw at his words. “How beautiful you are, how much of a-“

“How much of a great Mum I am-“ youcut in, tone clipped and reeking of bitterness.

“S’not a bad thing-“

“Is it not?” You challenged. “Whatabout how great of a person I am? How proud you are of me? Not me as a Mum,just me. Of the client I managed to get in the bag last week on the middle ofthis very kitchen, with your daughter attached to my breast and your other twochildren wreaking havoc in our living room. Me. While you were sat in someswanky booth in The Nice Guy.“

His sad eyes stared at you, blinkingslowly but letting you speak.

“No frills, no pomp and pageantry. Nobar tab paid for by Full Stop Management to help me close the deal. Noexpensive outfit or brass rings of rubbing shoulders with the right people,just raw talent, intellect and wit.”

Harry watched the way you easilyspewed out words that had been pushed down for far too long. He could tell inthe way that you eloquently, regardless of being angry, relayed them to him.

“Just me. Greasy hair and sickstained clothes. Stood where you’re standing now. Without my husband in so muchas my periphery.”

You watched as he nodded. No wayshunning anything that you said as you voice cracked and you confirmed, “Justme.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say I don’t need you,”you breathed, eyes dropping from his. “I don’t even know if want you,” you feltyour bottom lip quiver at your confession, more so when you saw the way panicfilled Harry’s features when you did look back over at him.

“Darling- don’t be like this- stop-“his voice desperate to cut in and change the path that the conversation wastaking.

“I can do this on my own you know-“

“No one is disputing that-“ hehastily walked around the kitchen island. “I’m not disputing that at all-“

“I’ve accomplished a lot- I’ve helpedyou accomplish a lot too-

“No one knows that more than me,” hecupped your face, fiercely scanning your features. “Behind every great man, eh?”

“I used to be beside you.“

His face fell at the emptiness ofyour tone.

“You are beside me.” The conviction behind his voice was enough for you as you shook your head.

“You know I’m not. I’m not in thebooth next to you at The Nice Guy, I’m not at the side of stage. I’m not evenbeside you in bed half of the time because we’re like passing ships in thenight-“

That or your sleeping with yourmiddle son in his tiny bed because he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of sleepingall the way through the night. If he’s not wedged in between you and Harry inyour bedroom, that is.

“I’ve gone so long with not havingyou around, I’ve forgotten what’s it’s like to have you and when I do…” youswallowed as you trailed off.

“When you do, what?” He goaded, aglutton for punishment and self-depreciation. He swallowed thickly. “Go on, say it if you’re gonna say it.”

“And when I do have you around, Idon’t want you.” You felt your face crumble as you stepped out of his touch. “I don’t want you here, I don’t want you around me- I don’t-“

You felt your words cut of as theygot lodged in your throat, blurring vision just about able to make out themoment Harry cracked as he stood opposite you in the kitchen. HIs own face crumbling as his bottom lip tremmbled from your honest confession.

“I find myself thinking aboutdivorcing you all the time.”

The words just keep leaving you.Watching the way his despair got worse and worse in front of you.

“And sometimes I hate myself becauseI think about packing everything up when you’re gone and hitting you where itreally hurts. Letting you come home to an empty house.”

The thud of his knees falling thefloor was next, his face pushing tightly into your stomach as you felt himcling to you.

“And every time then scenario getsmore and more nasty. And I hate myself for it because I’m so fucking bitter atthe way you’ve just been able to carry on like nothing has fucking changed andeverything fucking has so why,” yougrowled “why has it not changed for you? Huh? Why!?” You hit and push at hisshoulders, Harry’s body barely jostling from you feeble - but you sure they’refilled with a lot of forcefrom your end, you’re just that tired- attempts intrying to push him off you.

“So maybe I need to make it changefor you, for you to realise the change for me,” you’re despondent as you talk,body stoic now as your limbs hang loosely beside your body. Harry’s head is pressed closer to your skin, mumbling pleas that go unnoticed.

“I want a divorce.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #my writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry fic #harry blurb #harry one shot

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gamz2311 · 4 years

Text

Educated: A Clyde LoganxReader Story (1/5)

This is my first time posting on Tumblr something that i’ve written- Ah! Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.

No warnings

Chapter 1

“I am going to go down to that damn school and…” Jimmy Logan yelled before his brother Clyde interrupted him with his slow, southern drawl.

“Now Jimmy, we both know that ain’t gunna be good for Sadie. Ya’ just need ta calm down.” Clyde said, placing a hand on his older brothers shoulder to calm him down.

“Like hell imma calm down. My little girl has a broken arm because of that school! That teacher shoulda been watchin’ them kids better. What kind of…” Jimmy muttered, shrugging off Clyde’s hand. Clyde was glad that it was only Jimmy, Nancy (his head waitress) and himself in the bar at the moment, relieved that he wouldn’t have to explain Jimmy’s outburst to any customers. Jimmy, Clyde, and Nancy had come in early to do some maintenance around the place. Right as they were getting ready to get started, Jimmy had just received a call from his ex-wife Bobbie Jo saying that their daughter, Sadie, had broken her arm at school playing on the playground.

“It ain’t no ones fault. Kids are gunna be kids and accidents happen’.” Clyde said, trying to appeal to his brother’s logical side, but he already knew that it was too late for that. He sat down the glass he was cleaning and looked at his brother.

“Fuck that. My baby is sitting in a hospital because of someone in that school and I’m gunna let ‘em have a piece of my mind. Plus Bobbie Jo said I needed to run by the school and get Sadie’s backpack and stuff that got left behind.” Jimmy stood up with a jerk, moving towards the door. Clyde smoothly made his way around the bar, stopping Jimmy in his tracks.

“Right now Sadie needs ya’ at the hospital, she don’t need ya’ goin’ up to her school and causin’ a fuss. Plus ya don’t even know what happened so you don’t even know who to be mad at. Iffin’ it will make ya feel better, I’ll go on down to the school, get ‘er stuff and ask what happened while ya go on down to the hospital” Clyde said, seeing his brother calm for a second, processing his words. Looking over at Nancy, he saw her nod her head. She would often cover for Clyde when he need to run out.

“I know its someone’s fucking fault at the school so you better make sure you let them know how angry I am” Jimmy said through gritted teeth.

“Give Sadie a hug for me, let ‘er know I’ll teach ‘er the ways of managin’ with one arm.” Clyde smirked, hoping to make his brother chuckle but Jimmy was already almost to his car, muttering angry thoughts under his breath. Clyde sighed and followed, making his way to his truck.

Luckily the drive to the school wasn’t too bad, only about an hour or so. Jimmy had been real pleased when Moody and Bobby Jo had moved back after living in Lynchburg for a few months. It made it a lot easier for Jimmy to see Sadie, which meant Clyde got to have a better relationship with his niece. He had been to her school a few times in the months she had been back in the area; a school play and her end of year awards ceremony but he hadn’t been there this school year yet.

About halfway to the school he realized he had no clue who her teacher was this year. He tried to think back to the last time he had seen Sadie and was talking to her about the beginning of the school year.

“Hey hey Sadie Lou.” Clyde remembered saying as Sadie ran into his trailer and threw her arms around her uncle a few weeks earlier.

“Hi Uncle Clyde,” she said, sitting on his lap. “Guess what?”

“What?” Clyde replied, not that it mattered to Sadie, who had kept chattering over his response.

“I baked you some of my ultra famous toasted s'mores cookies.” Sadie said with a huge smile.

“Well thank ya’.” Clyde said, giving his niece a squeeze. “Them are my favorite.”

“I know! They are also my teacher’s favorite, Ms. (Y/L/N). I made them for her because I want her to like me. She is the prettiest, nicest teacher in the whole school and I want to be her favorite.” Clyde chuckled, his niece always had been a people pleaser thats why she always did so well at those pageants she liked doing.

“I ain’t believing for one second that that you needed cookies to be ‘er favorite.” Clyde said, tickling Sadie. “Yer sweet ‘nuff on yer own.”

“Uncle Clyde…” She said as she giggled and squirmed in his lap. “Stoppppp.” Clyde chuckled as he tickled her a bit more, her daddy coming to help him as they both made her laugh. He hadn’t thought much about that conversation until now as he was heading to go meet this Ms. (Y/L/N). Feeling the heat rush to his face, Clyde started to get a little nervous.

There were many things that Clyde Logan was good at. He was good at being a brother and an uncle, he was good at running a bar and making drinks, and he was excellent at making a mean plate of nachos, just to name a few. However, there was one thing that he was not good at, and that was talking to pretty women. For as long as he could remember Clyde had always been the shy brother. Mellie and Jimmy could talk to just about anyone, but he couldn’t seem to to steady himself when he was around someone who he found attractive. Sure, behind his bar counter, he could talk to the customers who came to order drinks, but when it came to being on his own he couldn’t seem to get his thoughts organized.

Clyde sure was hoping that this teacher wasn’t as pretty as Sadie made her out to be, because if she was Clyde was in for an awkward afternoon.

Clyde showed up to the school just as the students were being let out. He parked in the front parking lot, waiting a few minutes for all the students, buses, and cars to clear out. Seeing the place finally look a bit calm, he made his way out of the truck and went to the door. He was let into the office where he explained he needed to pick up Sadie’s stuff and talk to her teacher. The office checked Sadie’s file and saw that he was identified as her uncle. This meant that they were able to give him information about Sadie’s class and they pointed him in the direction of Ms. (Y/L/N)’s classroom, room 152.

He walked slowly down the hall, trying to calm himself down before he met Sadie’s teacher. Picturing his 3rd grade teacher, the terrifying and strict Mrs. Appleton, he tried to convince himself that he was going to see someone who looked like her instead.

However, when he made his way into room 152, he knew he was definitely wrong. He peered around the door frame and saw an absolute angel sitting at the teacher’s desk. Her eyes were focused on the paper in front of her, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as she examined the words in front of her. She had brown hair that was hanging in her face, that she was absentmindedly twisting between her fingers. He felt almost breathless, watching her so focused, so intensely studying the piece of paper. It made him want to study her that way, watching how her eyes danced across the page and how her face reacted to the things she was reading.

Suddenly she looked up from the paper. Obviously she wasn’t expecting 6' 3” Clyde Logan to be standing at her door, so when her eyes met his she jumped with a surprised “Oh” slipping from her lips.

“Uh, sorry to uh, scare you ma'am.” Clyde said, taking a step into the classroom.

“No! I’m sorry. I was a bit too focused. I was trying to read a story one of my students wrote and unfortunately, I can’t read a single word of their handwriting.” Ms. (Y/L/N) said with an embarrassed chuckle.

“No worries ma’am.” Clyde said, his cheeks flushing red as she flashed him a smile.

“Hi. I’m Ms. (Y/L/N), or (Y/F/N). What can I help you with?” She said, standing up and walking over to Clyde, extending a hand. Clyde stuck his hand out, his prosthetic arm hidden slightly behind him. Her hand was soft, much softer than his hands. They also felt much smaller than his own. She smiled at him again and he felt his stomach fill with nerves.

“Uh. I am Clyde.” He said, pulling his hand away from hers before she could feel how clammy it was beginning to get. They stood there in an awkward silence before he realized that he probably needed to explain a bit more. “I mean, I’m Clyde Logan, Sadie’s uncle. I uh, came to get ‘er stuff.”

“Oh gosh, yes! Poor Sadie. The kids were playing at recess and she fell off the jungle gym. I haven’t been working here long, but I’ve told the principal that they need to get rid of that thing. It’s old and too high.” The teacher said as she walked over to some shelves in the room and grabbed Sadie’s backpack. She continued to talk about the incident, giving Clyde all the details of what happened but Clyde was distracted. He followed her with his eyes as she walked around collecting Sadie’s things and writing her a note. Clyde felt like he couldn’t breath, the way that her hair danced across her shoulders and the way her mouth moved as she talked making him feel like he couldn’t think clearly. Suddenly he realized that the room was quiet and that Ms. (Y/L/N) was looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” He said, clearing his throat. His cheeks flushing with embarrassment again.

“I asked if I could send some cards the kids made her. I was hoping you could give them to her when you drop off the backpack. I also wrote her a little card myself.” She said with a smile, walking towards Clyde with the backpack and a stack of white papers.

“Uh, yeah…” Clyde mumbled. “I can do that.” He fumbled for a moment, trying to grab the backpack and the cards. Eventually he had to put the straps over his prosthetic arm, and grab the cards with the hand. He felt his face turning a bright shade of red, and he tried to make a quick exit towards the door.

“It was very nice to finally meet you Mr. Logan. Sadie talks about her brave uncle frequently.” Ms. (Y/L/N) said. Clyde stopped, turning to look at her.

“Oh really?” Clyde said, a shy smile spreading across his face.

“She likes to write stories about you. It’s pretty cute.” Ms. (Y/L/N) said, leaning against her desk and looking at Clyde. “She makes you a superhero, saving the day. She is usually your sidekick. You’ll have to ask her to read them one day.”

“I’d like that.” Clyde said, looking at her until he felt so overwhelmed he had to look at the ground.

“Well thank you for coming to get the stuff. And also thank you for your service.” She said, quietly, before flashing Clyde a smile that made his stomach flipflop.

“Uh. Thank you. I mean, uh, yur welcome.” Clyde said, making his exit. His cheeks felt like they were on fire as he made his way down the hall and out of the school. Of course he would embarrass himself in front of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen that just happened to be his niece's teacher. There is no way now she’d be interested in a guy like him because he must have seemed like an idiot to this beautiful, educated woman. Clyde opened his truck door, slinging the backpack into the passenger seat and placing the cards on top. He leaned his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes and trying to forget the last 10 embarrassing moments of his life.

He also felt confused because he could decide whether or not he wanted to see Ms. (Y/L/N) again. He had never had a “crush” come on so quickly like that and it made him feel like he was 15 years old again. Like he was young and not in control of his body. Feeling ridiculous and hoping that driving would clear his thought, he started his truck and texted Jimmy to let him know that he had Sadie’s stuff and was making his way back to the bar. He kind of hoped he could forget this afternoon ever happened, but he had a strong feeling that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

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