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edens-pen · 2 years

Text

romans 3:23

summary | nanami kento can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.

pairing | priest!nanami kento x fem!reader

word count | 3,206

warnings | oh god — blasphemy, sacrilege, sex in a church, oral (f!receiving), pussyjob, masturbation, corruption kink, virgin kink, unprotected sex, cervix fucking, god kink, worship kink, praise, degradation, creampie, slight breeding kink, just the tip, squirting, dub con (ish), minorly ooc kento :(

a/n | this was not beta'd + i have church in the morning. dabbling in some kinktober!! something light for y'all to enjoy <3

[ 18 + | minors, blank, ageless blogs, do not interact! ]

—

nanami kento was a man of the cloth.

of course, the operative word being "was."

he was a man of the cloth until you waltzed into the church with your family. a fresh college graduate, staying with her parents to save money, teaching at the local elementary school.

the first sunday you came in a modest dress, your soft eyes taking in the composure of the church before they landed on him. a demure smile settled on your face and you ducked your head after meeting his eyes.

he was hooked.

it's not like he could help it. your eyes stayed trained on him throughout every service and he loved your attention. he thrived under your watchful gaze, the way you hung off of every word he spoke.

and you weren't a mystery, nanami could read you like a book. he saw the way your thighs clenched in the pew when his voice raised.

it only took a few weeks for you to show up in his office.

the perfect combination of innocent and repentant. the conversation starts sweet, a recollection of your time in college and your abandonment of church.

"i didn't go to church when i went away, i was busy and distracted," you sigh, fiddling with your fingers. "i have maintained my purity in college, but recently, i've been...tempted."

nanami can't explain the relief that floods him when he hears that you're a virgin, and the excitement that hits him when you start to open up.

"i've been having impure thoughts and they've been getting worse every week, i try to ignore them, but last night, i couldn't." your voice is a shaky whine, afraid of the consequences. "i touched myself."

your confession has nanami's eyes nearly rolling back. he bites the inside of his cheek thinking about you with your hands between your legs, rocking against your fingers. he thinks about how slick your thighs would be, how easily you would give in and come for him. he knows you're pent up, you've spent your life in restriction.

it's that moment of silence that has you filling the gap again.

"it was only that one time father, and i've never done it before then, and i haven't done it since!"

nanami refrains from smiling, only nodding at your words. he leans forward, clasping his hands on the desk.

"i'd like you to come to me the next time you're experiencing your impure thoughts, i believe i can help."

you graciously accept and nanami only bids you a good evening.

he doesn't expect to see you again so soon, or for you to be sitting in his office on a friday night, the edge of your skirt between your fingers, tears in your eyes.

"i'm so sorry father nanami, i tried not to think about it!" you're crying now and nanami is so thankful he's behind his desk because the sight of your tears is getting him so hard.

he gives you a little smile before he asks, "what did you think about?"

this is when you freeze, body tight and in panic. you stutter out a few words, but nanami cuts you off. "it's okay, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god, confess and i can help you."

with his reassurance, you open your mouth and confess.

"i have these thoughts all the time," you bow your head and swallow harshly as you continue. "it's wrong but i think about him having sex with him."

"it's best to talk about our sins," nanami takes a slow breath before rising from his chair. "to relieve ourselves from concealment. who is this person you're having these thoughts about?"

at his words, your eyes meet his again. "i can't—"

"do you believe that you can hide from god? they are not hidden from my face, nor is their sin concealed from my eyes."

his tone is stern and it makes you nervous to see the hard line of his frown.

"it's you."

nanami clenches his teeth at your pitiful, little whisper. the shame sits hot in your face and he can't help but drink it in.

he can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.

the only thing he can do now is drag you down with him.

that night, nanami consoles your fears and worries, he tells you the real work will start after sunday morning service. he promises you that there is nothing to worry about, there is no sin that can't be washed clean by god's love.

—

so sunday evening, you tell your parents you're doing intensive study with nanami and they are overjoyed to hear it.

in fact, they encourage you to stay as long as you can.

so nanami takes his time with you. he walks you through scriptures and teachings and prayers and at the end he even gives you a technique to keep you from truly sinning.

"what people don't know is that masturbation is a sin," nanami explains, taking your hands in his. "only if you climax."

your eyebrows furrow and nanami continues, "it's not a sin if you don't finish."

he demonstrates by having you sit on top of his desk, skirt hiked up around your waist, panties hanging off your ankle.

nanami's kneeling in front of you, eyes shut. he's just breathing you in and he wasn't surprised to see that your thighs are glistening. you've just spent the last hour skirting his touches and listening to the rumble of his voice.

he pets lightly at your folds, as you lean back, propped up on your elbows. spreading you open, nanami groans to himself at your slick hole, begging for him to touch you. his fingers trace lightly over your cunt before tapping at your clit.

of course you're sensitive. his light touches have you trembling and shaking, already crying out his name.

"is this what you thought of when you touched yourself," nanami speaks, his breath right over your mound. his eyes flicker up to meet yours, hooded and desperate. "me between your legs, playing with this filthy mess?"

you nod pathetically and nanami continues. there's no rhyme or reason to the way he's touching you. he's greedily spreading your mess around your thighs and flicking at your clit while you cry above him.

"please, please nanami, it feels so good."

he responds by sealing his mouth over you, teasing his tongue against your clit.

his finger starts slipping inside your cunt, stretching you out. nanami relishes in how tight you are, knowing that your little fingers weren't enough to open you up for him. with little effort, nanami's grazing spots inside of you that you didn't even know existed.

your mess is sliding down his wrist, but he doesn't stop. he keeps going until you're whining his name again, desperate and pleading.

"oh god, please, i can't!" your fingers find purchase in his hair, keeping his mouth over your pussy. "let me cum! just this once, please, i'll be good. i need you."

tears are welling up in your eyes, but nanami knows this isn't what you need right now. he feels your cunt tightening around his fingers as your voice goes up in shrill cries.

"you want to cum?"

"yes, so bad! please let me cum!"

it only worsens when he pulls away, leaving you empty.

the tendrils of your upcoming orgasm slip away and your tears fall even faster.

your watery eyes find nanami who's sitting back, smiling teasingly at you.

"see? you did so good."

you don't believe him, not until nanami has kneeling in front of him as performs similar acts on himself.

his cock is hard and weeping against his fist. he insisted on using the slick from your denied orgasm to smooth the movements of his hand. the wet sounds of his pleasure fill the office.

"you make me feel so good, you're so damn pretty," nanami grunts. you're inches away from his dick, and he can feel the puffs of your breath against the tip. your eyes are trailing the motions of his hand, the flex of his stomach, and the tension in his thighs.

his languid pace speeds up to something rough and fast, it's taking everything in nanami not to come on your face, not to spew every disgusting thought in his mind.

all in due time.

so he settles for making you think he's just like you. when he feels the knot of pleasure about to unwind, he grabs the base of dick and squeezing until your name sounds like a curse on his lips.

"god, baby, see?" he's out breath, but it's okay when he sees the light smile on your lips. "it's okay if you don't come."

—

nanami honestly doesn't know when he got so fucked. he thought he had control of this. he believed he had control of his actions, but you've taken root in his brain, and he had to know that edging you and himself wasn't going to be enough.

it only takes a few more sessions for nanami to convince you to do more. that it's okay, as long as you come with nanami in the room to oversee it. and it's okay as long as you come on his fingers, or in his mouth.

now, nanami has you grinding on his lap, using your cute little cunt to give him a pussyjob. your panties are stuffed in his pocket and his pants are around his ankles. his dick is harder than its ever been in his life, the tip is leaking between your pussy lips, throbbing and red.

"don't worry," nanami groans into your neck. "it's fine as long as i'm not inside you."

nanami feels like he might even believe it himself, because he knows it must be heaven inside your pussy. and to deprive himself of it right now must make him a saint.

the way you're whining in his ear and clutching his shoulder has nanami strongly considering otherwise.

"this feels so good, you're so big nanami!"

and while he doesn't need his ego stroked, he knows your words are genuine. he can tell from the way you're crying it out in disbelief. he needs to hear the way you'll sound when he's sinking his cock inside you, fucking against that sweet spot he touches his fingers.

"'nami, 's good, oh my—" you cut yourself off with a broken moan, and nanami can tell you're getting close with the way your slick pours out, covering his cock.

he's learned that you cum the hardest when he's pinching your nipples and talking you through it. so with one hand nanami guides your hips, keeping you moving in his lap, and with the other he's playing with your chest.

all the while nanami's speaking praises into your ear.

"you're such a pretty little angel, you listen so well," nanami kisses your neck, careful not to leave a mark above your collar. "always so perfect for me."

and his words have you soaring, crying out his name as you clutch his shirt.

but this is still not enough.

your pretty eyes filled with tears and the sound of his name on your lips isn't enough anymore.

it should be alarming that it's taken nanami such a short period of time to be so infatuated with you, but he can't bring himself to care.

not when you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky,

like he gave the sun it's light,

like he's god.

it's love and it's power and nanami cannot let this go. your body is singing the devil's song and he's echoing the words.

so in the same breath, he's teasing the tip of his cock at your entrance, whispering reassurance as he does.

"promise it'll be just the tip, angel, just need to feel you like this."

he doesn't try to assuage you with promises of heaven and a sinless life. he knows that won't work. nanami thinks you might love him more than you love your religion.

he hopes he's right.

so you're giving in, making him promise "just the tip." and nanami nods half-heartedly, already pussydrunk imagining the way you're going to swallow him up.

"too big, 'nami, 's too big!"

but it's just the tip and it's got his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your sucking him.

he lets you settle around him before he tilts your head up to look at him again. placing kisses under your jaw, he tries to distract himself from the inviting warmth of your heat, but the feeling of his lips on your neck has you squirming in his lap.

"i can—oh god—i can take more, right? you'll give me more?" you whine in his ear, desperate and pleading, like it's nanami's fault he's not touching your cervix right now.

in truth nanami was trying to control the situation, swearing to himself that he wouldn't ruin you in one night.

but he's a weak man with simple desires and being inside you is a pleasure he can no longer deny himself.

so nanami takes your hips in his hands and keeps you right on his tip. then he takes his time sinking you down, ignoring your cries and whines of it being too much. he knows you can take it.

it takes him too long to get your hips all the way down, his balls pressed against your ass. by the time he's seated completely inside you, sweat has collected in the valley between your breasts and nanami has left marks along your neck.

"doin' so good for me, so wet and tight," nanami grunts in your ear. his praise sinks right in your stomach and he knows it.

nanami tries to take it slow because this is your first time, he barely even got to prep you, but once he starts thrusting, the sound of your voice knocks him out entirely.

"oh—oh my god!" your nails are raking down his back as you cry out, "kento!"

the sound of his first falling off your lips has nanami's rhythm stuttering. he doesn't know why it floors him, but he knows he's not going as slow as he was when he first started.

in the back of his mind, he know he should not be drilling you like this. nanami should have you laid out on his bed, softly easing his way into your cunt, probably with a condom on, after having wrung multiple orgasms from your body. he should continue praising you, reminding how good you're doing for him.

instead he's got you bouncing totally naked in his lap, his pants down around his ankles, with his hand clutching the base of your throat. tears are falling down your cheeks and nanami can't stop himself from licking them up with fervor. and all he can think of is how filthy you are for letting him fuck you in a church, and that's all that comes out of his mouth.

"so fucking slutty for me, baby," nanami groans, thrusting up harder. "letting me in this cunt so easily? have you been saving it for me?"

"yeah, all for you, just for you," you swear. "god, it's only yours!"

nanami nods, kissing your lips sloppily, "just for me? your tight, wet pussy was waiting for my fucking cock?"

"kento—"

"this body's supposed to be the temple of god, you know that? i've taken an oath, bound myself to God, spent hours of my life in prayer and solitude," nanami rambles, flicking your nipples as he speaks. "then you walk in with this sweet, virgin cunt and i've never wanted anything more."

with every thrust, nanami's rolling against your spot, fucking you into the shape of his cock. and he's in your ear telling you that he owns you now, that every inch of your body belongs to him, entirely. so you keep agreeing with him, nodding and promising that nobody else will touch you like this.

he's got his hands all over your body, playing with your chest, groping your ass, and then gripping your throat tightly.

in the silence that comes from you being choked, nanami chuckles a little.

"hear that?"

and you know what he's talking about immediately. the sounds of him fucking you, the squelching sounds of your arousal loud and echoing in his office.

"it's how bad your little pussy wanted me. how bad she wanted to fuck her priest. came to my church to fuck things up, hm?" nanami slows down, grinding you on his lap while he taunts you. "wore that white dress and wanted me to lose my religion. knew i couldn't resist this hot fucking body sitting in my pew."

you're trying to disagree but with nanami's cock pressed against cervix, but you can't even uncross your eyes.

"fucking answer me."

nodding, you mindlessly agree, "yes, you're right! kento—my god—i'm so close, please don't stop."

and the way you keep mixing his name with cries for God is making nanami's head spin. he's starting to think you're doing it on purpose.

"yeah? beg me some more," nanami smiles, nipping at your neck again. "i like hearing you."

you bite back the petulant whine rising up in your throat and choose to be obedient. "kento, please let me cum—want it so bad, please!"

this time nanami obliges you, twisting your nipples between his fingers, urging you to cum for him.

"be my nasty fucking girl and cum on my cock, sinful little slut."

your nails dig harshly into his shoulder as you toss your head back in heavenly ecstasy.

"oh my—fuck!"

the curse falling from your lips is followed by the collection of tension in your body. your cunt tightens around nanami's cock as you freeze on nanami's lap. he keeps fucking you through it, his cock pounding into your cunt while you gush and squirt around him.

"can you cum inside me, kento? please?" you're begging again, even more for his cum than for your own orgasm. "i want it so bad, want you to fill me up, okay? you'll do it right, kento? you'll give me your cum?"

and what choice does nanami have? he has to empty his balls inside you.

"gonna dump my fucking cum in your cunt," nanami growls.

that's all the warning you get before he's fulfilling his promise, giving you everything he's got. his groans and curses fill your ears while his hips stutter, painting your insides white.

nanami sighs in contentment, rubbing his hands up and down your back as his cock softens inside you. he feels you relax in his lap, tiredness overtaking your limbs.

the evidence of your sin leaks down to nanami's balls.

you lean your forehead against his, stars still in your eyes. even after the depraved acts nanami's performed on you in the last couple of weeks, you still think he's created heaven and earth.

"thank you so much kento, you're so good to me," you whisper and it sounds like a prayer.

in nanami's ears, it sounds like worship.

—

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader smut #nanami kento x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #this was so freeing to write #i need to write more of this omfg #priest nanami satisfies something in me #he might've been a little ooc #— eden writes jjk

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yxngbxkkie · 3 months

Text

7 minutes in heaven (b.c)

so, i found a forced proximity prompt list and decided that i want to dabble in a few of them. and, channie is the first one 🤭 i hope you guys like it! let me know what you think 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Jihyun, I told you I don't like these kinds of games,” you tell your roommate, trying to get her to stop dragging you.

She stops, and you almost run into her. “Oh come on, Y/N. It's our last year of college. You need to live a little,” she scolds you, narrowing her eyes.

“I can live a little. I don't have to play childish games in a frat house to live,” you remind her, not fond of how she's speaking to you.

“Just one round, and then we can leave,” Jihyun attempts to negotiate, squeezing your hand in hers. “Plus, Chan is playing.”

The tips of your ears start to turn red at the thought of Bang Chan, the president of this frat, Theta Kappa Phi. You've had the biggest crush on him since your sophomore year.

You press your lips together before glancing around. “One round, and I'm gone,” you tell her in a hushed whisper.

Your roommate claps her hands and continues leading you into one of the many bedrooms. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lower yourself onto the floor.

“It's a strange sight to see you, Y/N,” Chan greets you with a soft smile.

A shy chuckle leaves your lips as you nod your head. “It's strange to be here,” you giggle, tucking some hair behind your ear.

Chan chuckles and pats your leg. “Well, Jihyun talks about you a lot, so I'm glad that you could make it.”

Butterflies swarm around your stomach at his touch. Hyunjin runs in with an empty bottle before either of you can say anything else. The other drunk students around you cheer as the taller man sets the bottle in the middle of the circle.

“Who would like to start?” Hyunjin grins, holding his hands out.

“How about our wonderful President,” Felix suggests, smirking lightly.

Chan laughs, and he shakes his head. “I don't want to go first,” he mentions, his eyes dancing between his two buddies.

“Too late, spin old man,” Hyunjin laughs, lowering himself to the floor.

You watch Chan sigh and move to sit on his knees. His veiny hands grasp the clear bottle before he spins it fast. You don't realize you're holding your breath as you keep your eyes on the bottle.

No fucking way… You think to yourself when the bottle stops on you. You can feel your heartbeat pounding as his eyes meet yours.

Cheers and hollers echo off of the walls as you grow more and more embarrassed. Chan releases a sigh, standing to his feet before holding his hand out to you.

“Come on,” he whispers loud enough for you to hear.

You swallow thickly, reaching out to grab his hand. Chan pulls you off of the floor and leads you towards the hallway closet. He opens the door and allows you to go in first.

Clasping your hands together as you peek into the dimly lit closet. “Uhm,” you pause, tilting your head to look up at him. “Is now… is now a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?”

“Shit, really?” He mutters, a frown settling in on his face. Chan starts to mumble incoherently, trying to figure out a solution.

You tuck your lip between your teeth and decide to do it anyway. “If we keep the light on, I'll be okay,” you reassure him, not wanting to miss out on this opportunity.

“Are you sure?” He asks while stroking your arms. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“With you, I'll be okay,” you end up blurring out.

Chan's frown turns into a smile, and he nods his head. “Okay. I'll go in first,” he says before stepping into the tiny closet.

You follow him, pressing your hand against his chest as he shuts the door. You can feel the palms of your hands beginning to sweat, and you start to fiddle with his shirt.

“You okay?” Chan whispers, bringing his hand up to move the hair out of your face.

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head slowly.

He brings one of his arms around your waist, tugging your body closer to his. You lift your head to look at him, hoping he can't feel how fast your heart's beating. His eyes stare into yours as his hand gently rubs your lower back.

The longer the two of you stare at each other, the more you notice the light freckles decorating his cheeks. Your gaze flickers between admiring his freckles and his dark eyes.

“I've never noticed your freckles before,” you whisper to him, lifting a hand to gently touch them. “It's cute.”

Chan giggles, dipping his head down. “You can see them?” He asks, bringing his free hand to his other cheek. “I haven't gotten much sun, so they're pretty light.”

“Mm, yeah,” you agree, dragging the tip of your finger to each one you find. “They're pretty light, but I can see them at this angle.”

“And, you think they're cute?” He asks, leaning his face closer to you.

You nod your head, not trusting your voice as the guy you've had a crush on for two years gets closer. Your eyes flutter shut when his nose brushes yours, your breath hitching.

“I'm going to kiss you, okay?” Chan mutters against your lips, your heart jumping at the light touch.

“Yeah… yeah,” you breathe out, releasing a deep breath.

He fully plants his lips on yours, and your grip on his shirt tightens. You're kissing your crush. He asked to kiss you. He's actually kissing you. The hand on his face glides to the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the ends of his hair.

“Shit, your lips are so soft,” Chan mumbles, pulling away from you.

Giggles leave your lips, finding yourself a blushing mess. He leans in to give you a quick kiss, a groan coming from him after.

“It's that great?” You ask with a laugh, your hand stroking his clothed pec.

“You have no idea,” he whispers before reattaching your lips.

A moan comes from you while sliding your other arm around his neck. You kiss him back with just as much passion, leaning on your toes to deepen it further.

Chan glides his hands down your waist, resting on the back of your thighs. “Jump for me,” he mutters, and you do as he says.

He holds you in his arms, pressing you against the wall behind you. Your ankles lock together, a little scared that he'll end up dropping you.

Pounding on the door snaps you from your little makeout session. Chan's lips find a place on your chest as Hyunjin calls from outside the closet.

“Time's up! Come on!” He laughs, pounding his fist against the wooden object again.

“Chan,” you giggle, tugging his head back by his hair. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut while keeping his plump lips parted. “We have to go.”

“Stay over?” He asks, gently setting you back onto your feet. “We can get breakfast in the morning.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling even more. This man… When he's like this, he's irresistible. You can't say no.

“I'll stay over on one condition,” you tell him, tapping the tip of his nose. He nods his head, motioning for you to continue. “When we get breakfast tomorrow, it's a date.”

Chan grins ear to ear, nodding his head vigorously. “Absolutely, deal. Seal it with a kiss,” he says before stealing one more kiss.

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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lightseoul · 1 year

Text

admit it

synopsis. loving him from afar was enough. at least, it should’ve been enough. until it wasn’t. (or, in which you subtly take care of your ex, bakugou katsuki, who also happens to be the namesake of the agency you’re working at) (part 2) (part 3)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old)

word count. 5.0k words

Being the HR Department Head of the Ground Riot agency, you’ve learned to take care of Pro Hero Dynamight in subtle ways.

Primarily because even though he isn’t technically your direct superior—he rarely dabbled in admin work as compared to his co-founder Kirishima Eijirou—you didn’t want to stir up drama or reports on inappropriate workplace relationships.

Especially as the head of the Human Relations department.

But that’s not the only reason.

It’s also because—well, he’s your ex.

The ex who you never really understood in terms of how he became that.

“You know, we really need to redecorate this place.”

Mikuri, your colleague from the PR department, muses as she scans the breakroom from her spot on the L-shaped sofa.

You place the black coffee pods you picked up on your way home yesterday near the coffee machine, “Tell that to Finance. The breakroom decor is probably the least of their worries.”

She merely sighs in response as she reverts her attention to her phone.

“You do know that doom scrolling during your break isn’t exactly resting, right?”

At that, she pouts but doesn’t look up. “I hear you, Ms. HR.”

You playfully roll your eyes at the nickname.

“Stocking up on coffee during one’s break isn’t exactly resting, either.”

At her mention of the beverage, your eyes drift back to the pods you have in your hands. You found that they ran out before your shift ended the day prior and were quick to buy refills.

“What are you doing with that flavor, anyway?” she finally lifts her head to regard you, pocketing her phone as she stands up. You look up at the wall clock—break time’s almost over. “Didn’t you dislike that?”

You smile to yourself, fiddling with capsules. Mikuri was right—you didn’t really like this flavor.

But Katsuki did.

And he still does, you think.

“Y/N!”

You whip your head around to see the owner of the familiar voice—Kirishima, decked out in his hero gear, looking like he’s about to head out for patrol.

“Hey! What’s up, Ei?”

He grins, head sticking through the slightly ajar sliding door, “I’m good! ‘s a good thing I ran into you—Bakugou got called out on an emergency mission.”

He nods at Mikuri in greeting, smile still adorning his face, before shifting his gaze back at you. “Looks like it’s still gonna be me and you during the final screening later.”

His eyes dart toward the coffee machine and the freshly stocked pods. Your hips shuffle in front of it before your brain could even catch up.

“Great, see you then!”

With that, Kirishima flashes you a final grin before easing out of the door and heading toward the elevators.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Final screening?” Mikuri whisper-shouts the second Kirishima’s out of sight.

You sigh, collecting the packaging and shoving it into the trash bin. “Sidekicks. He finally got Bakugou to say yes to getting one.”

“Oof, good luck with that.”

“Personally, I think it boils down to these two.”

You thrust forward the two sets of files in front of you, eyeing everyone seated at the oval-shaped meeting table.

“I agree,” your HR subordinate chimes in from the far end of the table.

“I vote for web dude,” another adds. “He’s so much like Bakugou personality-wise. They’d have to click.”

The recruitment head shakes her head, “Yeah, but his quirk doesn’t complement Bakugou’s explosion as much as the girl’s water jet.”

“I know, Yamakawa-san. But did you even see her? She’s so timid, I’ll bet you 5,000 yen that she’ll quit on day 1 of Bakugou shouting at her.”

Murmurs of agreement course through the room, but you’re not paying attention to what they’re whispering to each other.

“I doubt he’ll want someone so similar to him,” you mumble to yourself.

Apparently, you say it loud enough because everyone looks at you in confusion.

Shit.

“I mean, imagine how much of a PR and HR nightmare that will be,” you joke, although it comes out a bit stilted. Fortunately, they, including Kirishima who is seated at your right and at one end of the table, chuckle at your wisecrack.

“Are you voting for the girl, then?” the recruitment head inquires once the laughter dies down.

“Well…” you pause, “I agree that Moriyama-san is remarkably meek and timid, but just from her series of interviews, let alone her practical test, I could see she liked a good challenge.”

You tap her portrait, “Beyond just being a good match for Bakugou’s quirk, she’ll surely step up. And I know for a fact that if there’s anyone who can guarantee that, it’s Katsuki.”

At that, some eyes widen, and you can’t help but tilt your head in confusion at the perplexed looks they’re giving you.

“I mean, Bakugou!” you backtrack, finally realizing your mistake.

Desperate to change the subject, you direct your attention toward Kirishima. “What do you think, Kirishima-san?”

He passes you a knowing smile, one that is too unnerving for your liking, before leaning back on his chair.

“I think you’re right.”

You allow yourself to do some internal chastising the minute the meeting is adjourned.

Hiding your complicated feelings for Bakugou was easy—mainly because you rarely saw him around.

But hiding how much you knew about him?

That’s a whole different story.

“Good work, Y/N,” Kirishima pats you on the shoulder as the rest of your recruitment crew pile to exit the room.

You flash him a thankful smile before hopping on your feet and gathering your documents. “I’m trying not to make you regret hiring me, boss.”

He chuckles good-naturedly before looking away in what you think is reluctance.

“What is it?” you prod, feeling a sense of uneasiness crawl through your spine.

He seems to hesitate before continuing, “I was just gonna say—you always know what’s best for Bakugou.”

At that, your expression falters, and you feel your shoulders tensing at the mention of Bakugou’s name. You refuse to let your hurt (or whatever the fuck it is you’re feeling) show on your face, though.

Instead, you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “I just want the best for my bosses.”

Kirishima doesn’t say anything after that, but you can tell the gears are running in his brain. He simply nods in acknowledgment of your response before heading for the door himself, and you follow suit.

You’re at the doorway, stifling a tired yawn when you lock eyes with the man of the hour himself.

“Bakubro!” Kirishima exclaims in greeting. He encases Bakugou in a bro hug, which the latter begrudgingly accepts. “You got the mission done and over with?”

Bakugou, in all of his costume-decked glory, eyes the redhead and scoffs, “Obviously.”

His eyes flicker to yours. You nod at each other in lieu of a verbal greeting.

“You just missed the meeting,” Kirishima starts, vaguely aware of the palpable tension between the two of you. “We found’em—your first-ever sidekick!”

You almost want to laugh at how Bakugou doesn’t match Kirishima’s energy.

He simply grunts in response.

But Kirishima’s not the type to give up so easily. Instead, he adds: “Y/N made the final decision.”

You stiffen at the mention of your name, Bakugou’s eyes shifting toward you at the same time. You brace yourself for a snarky retort or a lame insult, but nothing comes.

Instead, he merely gives you a firm nod.

“Thanks.”

At that, he makes his way to his corner office.

You were only reminded that your HR personnel was still around when murmurs erupted in Bakugou’s wake.

“Just like that?”

“Wait, he’s in?”

“Wow, never thought he was capable of saying thank you.”

“Yeah, all I get is a halfhearted eye roll.”

The last comment would’ve made you snort if you weren’t too dazed by how uncharacteristic that was of Bakugou. You stand there for what feels like minutes as the others around you start toward their respective offices.

Finally snapping out of the trance the second you realized you were alone in the hallway, you head toward your own office, renewed with the resolve to take your mind off of one Bakugou Katsuki.

You had just the thing to keep yourself busy.

The monthly HR-hosted game night of Ground Riot agency is the one HR activity everyone actually looked forward to.

It’s the one time of the month employees get to let loose during weekdays and bond with colleagues, as well as enjoy free food and drinks, including the occasional booze.

It is also a pain in the ass to organize.

As the HR department head, you technically served as the project head, too, overseeing all of the subcommittees—from programs to logistics—on top of your everyday workload.

Suffice to say, the week before game nights never fails to whoop you in the ass with crushing responsibilities (and for the record, you’re not overreacting—you take your HR events very seriously) but you dare say that the outcomes and seeing everyone enjoy themselves always make it worth it.

For this month, in the spirit of encouraging employee engagement in your department, you let the Recruitment and Selection subdepartment be in charge of the program’s game proper.

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have.

Because now your very own HR members are dragging everyone to answer very personal truth-or-dare questions.

And ‘everyone’ happened to include Bakugou Katsuki.

“Bakugou-san!” an employee from the engineering department regards said man, who, by some miracle, has let himself be forced into playing.

Having chosen the ‘truth’ option, he is now seated on the mini-stage you happened to help set up earlier that afternoon.

One of your subordinates hands the support items engineer a microphone. The latter taps the mic before resuming, glee evident in her voice. “How many people have you dated?”

Cheers go off from all around the room at the question, and you shoot a withering glare at your assigned subdepartment members. One catches your eye and visibly cringes.

But goes on pretending they didn’t see you.

Fucking hell.

Grabbing yourself a microphone from the sound booth, you speak into it, trying not to freak out over the fact that this will very much be the first time you’ll verbally address Bakugou in two years.

“Apologies, Bakugou-san,” you start, “You don’t have to answer that.”

Everyone looks at you in bewilderment, including Bakugou who himself looks puzzled.

You take the lull that has befallen upon the room as a sign to continue.

“Such questions are deemed inappropriate as per HR standards. I’m going to have to speak with my subordinates after this.”

You expected uneasy silence as a response, but you sure as hell didn’t anticipate the plethora of jeers that erupt in the room, some even exclaiming exasperated ‘come on’s’.

You’re about to insist (as calmly as you can, that is) when a low, gruff voice crackles from the speakers.

“‘s fine. I’ll answer the fucking question.”

The room goes entirely still. You hold your breath.

He heaves a sigh, and you could’ve sworn his gaze flickered to you for a moment before he looks away.

“Just one.”

Oohs and aahs get passed around, and despite yourself, you feel a shot of relief course through your veins at the implication of Bakugou’s answer.

He hasn’t dated since you.

“Are you guys still together?” a male employee shouts from the other end of the room, and you can’t help the rush of blood toward your cheeks at the question.

You need to put your foot down, now.

“Okay,” you interject, “that’s enou–”

“No. We broke up two years ago.”

Your head whips toward Bakugou’s direction, shocked at his ready admission. The reprimanding words that you were about to spit out die in your throat.

“You plan on seeing anyone anytime soon?” another employee asks from the other far corner.

You’re about to pipe up in protest—distressed over the inappropriate questions, as the HR head or ex-girlfriend, you don’t know—when Kirishima stands up and barks out a good-natured laugh.

“I think that’s enough prodding, you guys.” His eyes flicker to Bakugou’s and then yours in a split second, face etched with concern, before he turns back his attention to the crowd, a toothy grin having replaced his previous expression.

You didn’t realize how tense your muscles have gotten until Kirishima stepped in to intervene, and at that, you slowly let out a big exhale through your nose.

God fucking no. The last thing you need is for your co-workers to find out that the HR head, of all people, is their boss’s ex.

Before you can even spiral further, though, you feel a hand clap your upper back. You twist to find Kirishima, who is, weirdly enough, beaming with excitement.

“We actually have something special planned for a special someone today.”

And as if on cue, the rest of your HR department enters the room, with your secretary carrying your favorite cake and the others holding balloons and a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You don’t remember telling anyone about your favorites except for one person.

Confused, you turn towards Kirishima. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” he mimics, amused at your confusion and the employees who hear laugh. “It’s your one-year anniversary in the agency!”

You could only gape in shock as the people around you, the ones you, over time, grew to identify as family, crowd you and urge you to blow out the candle and accept the flowers.

Still disoriented, you do what they tell you, and they cheer in response as you do so.

With all the busyness that came with the search for sidekicks and the monthly HR game night, you completely forgot about the significance of today’s date.

Overwhelmed by the sentiments and the sea of people surrounding you, you don’t know where to look or mouth a thank you.

Somehow, your gaze finds Bakugou’s—only to see him already looking at you from behind the crowd.

You’re about to look away, unable to sustain his piercing gaze, when he flashes you a small smile.

None of those smirks or mischievous grins he usually sports around other people.

No, this one was different.

Because this was the kind of smile he’d reserved especially for private moments with you.

Before you can give it a second thought, you find yourself smiling back.

“You really couldn’t be bothered to change into normal clothes before coming here?”

You, as inconspicuously as you can, look around the café you’re currently in, wary of paparazzi or anyone else that could recognize Pro Hero Pinky. The last thing you needed was a picture of you (the lucky civilian), haggard after a long day of work, all over Twitter.

“Nah,” she shrugs, “patrol was completely uneventful anyway. I’ll shower when I get home.”

You reach for your iced drink, mumbling under your breath, “I wasn’t worried about you…”

“Hey!” she pouts, “Is that how you treat a friend who’s done you a major favor?”

Your eye twitches at the mention of a favor.

These things never end well with Mina.

“Mina…” you groan, “what did you do?”

She rubs her neck sheepishly. “I kind of promised one of my colleagues that you’d go on a blind date with him.”

“What the fuck?”

She grabs your hand over the table that sits between the two of you. “He’s a real catch, I promise you. Tall, handsome, and a crazy smart support items engineer.”

You frantically shake your head, yanking your hand from her. “Idiot, I’m not worried about your ‘candidate’. Who the fuck said I wanted to go on a blind date?”

Mina whines and thrashes in her seat in response, maybe in an attempt to make you feel sorry and just go along with her antics.

You refuse to do so.

After a few minutes of an incredulous stare-off, she finally deflates in defeat.

“I just thought I could help you out and get you out of your shell. You haven’t dated anyone since…” she trails off, and looks away awkwardly, “you know.”

You chuckle despite yourself, albeit quite solemnly.

Until now, it still makes you feel guilty how the rest of your friend group is forced to deal with the aftermath of your unsuccessful relationship with Bakugou.

“You can say his name, you know. He’s not Voldemort.”

Mina rolls her eyes at that, but you can tell it’s playful more than anything else.

You look down at your now clasped hands. “I appreciate the help, you know that.”

She nods vigorously, and you almost laugh at how much of a textbook-active listener she is.

“But?”

You sigh, “I just can’t right now. If I end up dating someone, word will eventually get around in the office and I just…”

You lock eyes with Mina, whose eyebrows are raised in anticipation.

“I don’t want to make things awkward between Bakugou and me, especially now that I’m working in his agency.”

A few moments of silence pass before Mina speaks up, slunk against her chair.

“Man, you’re the world’s best ex-girlfriend, you know that?”

You snort, “Thanks.”

She sighs in exasperation, “I mean, even if you guys had the most ambiguous breakup ever, you still are extremely considerate about him.”

You’re not, by any means, in the mood or headspace to explore why that is, so you go for the safest answer possible.

“What can I say,” leaning back into your chair yourself, feigning nonchalance, “I’m just an incredibly good person.”

Mina doesn’t even bat an eye at your quip, “Yeah, yeah. Why did you guys break up, anyway?”

“Woah,” you lean back, aghast, “it’s,” you flick your wrist to check the time on your watch, “5:17 PM, Mina. And I doubt this café even serves a beer.”

You’re deflecting, and Mina has known you long enough to be aware of that.

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms across her chest. “Don’t you think I’m owed a little bit of information? I’m the one who set you guys up.”

“Actually, that was Kirishi–.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she interjects, “I helped.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. She waves it off.

“Point is, I was there when this budding relationship started, and I’m here to know the deets about how it ended.”

You shake your head in resignation, “You sure you don’t want to say you’re just nosy?”

She grins at you, “Nope!”

“So you’re telling me he got too busy and neglectful, you ended up asking for a break, and you’ve never talked to each other since?”

“Yep. That’s what I just said.”

Out of the blue, she hops onto her feet, and in doing so knocks stuff around on the table.

A glass of water almost spills.

“Mina?” you seethe, “Sit the fuck back down. People are gonna stare.”

“Bitch, I have pink skin. They’ve been staring since we entered the room,” she snaps, “And don’t even think about changing the subject.”

“I’m not! Just sit back down.”

She obliges, but she’s still visibly riled up, “I knew your breakup was vague, but not this vague!”

“I don’t know either, okay!” you put your hands up, exasperated. “A month into it he got Kirishima to get his things from my apartment, and so I just assumed he wanted to break up.”

Her eyes are filled with bewilderment, “And your asking me to get your things from his apartment?”

“I…” you hesitate, “I asked you immediately the day after.”

At that, she huffs in surrender, sinking back into her chair. “And you’re supposed to be an expert at conflict resolution.”

“Hey,” you throw a used tissue at her, which she expertly dodges, “That’s for the workplace setting. Romantic relationships are a whole other thing.”

She scoffs, fiddling with the piece of paper containing the café’s WiFi password. “And then, what? You took a gap year to find yourself?”

You roll your eyes for the nth time, reaching forward to take back the tissue you threw at her.

“Don’t make it sound like that. I just took a gap year after graduating to rest and figure out what I wanted to do. I was just lucky enough to have been recruited by Kirishima even if I had zero work experience by the time I came back.”

Mina eyes you, “Even if it meant technically having Bakugou as your boss?”

You look down at the piece of tissue in your hands.

“Even if it meant actually having Bakugou as my boss.”

Mina doesn’t say anything after that, only reaching for her cup of decaf coffee. You follow suit, taking a sip from your now-diluted drink.

You look up at her to see that she’s thinking hard about something.

In spite of yourself, you feel the familiar feeling of dread rising in your throat.

“...You’re not gonna tell him about this conversation, are you?”

“Who, Katsuki?” she asks and you gingerly nod. “Of course not!”

You hold eye contact for a while longer before looking away with a big sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

Three knocks echo through the hallway, as well as Kirishima’s expansive, corner office. Hesitantly and without noise, you peer through the glass door to see him in his regular clothes and in his desk, rifling through some documents that appear to be mission reports.

Kirishima looks up and catches your eye. Beaming at you with an inviting grin, he beckons you in with a wave of a hand.

“Y/N, bro! What’s up?”

You smile at him as you enter and close the door behind you.

He calls everyone bro, regardless of their gender.

“Hi, Ei. I have the report on the recruits, including Bakugou’s sidekick here with me,” you gesture to the folder in your hand. “Can you spare a minute to go through it together?”

What seems like hesitation dances across Kirishima’s face before he somehow schools it into a sheepish frown.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he starts, “I’m kinda busy right now,”

He flips through the pages for emphasis, “Have an important report due in an hour.”

“Oh, well that’s okay. I can just come back later when you’re free.”

You’re already turning back to exit his office when Kirishima speaks up again.

“—but Bakugou’s available!”

Slowly, you shift back to face him.

“...What?”

“I mean,” Kirishima backtracks, evidently flustered by his outburst, “Bakugou’s free right now. He can go through those documents with you. Especially since he’s the one getting a new sidekick and all.”

You gulp despite yourself, willing desperately to calm your now racing heart.

“But Ei… It’s always been you and our department coordinating on stuff like this. Why the sudden change now?”

It takes Kirishima a few seconds to reply.

And what he says knocks the breath out of your lungs.

“I just think it’s about time he starts taking matters into his own hands.”

When you got dressed and ready this morning, you didn’t think you’d be having your first proper conversation with your ex in two years.

But the universe, or rather, Kirishima, had other plans.

Thinking ‘this is the best it can get’ as you stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you sigh and make your way to your desk to get the files, heading straight to Bakugou’s office afterward.

When you get there, you don’t dare to immediately walk toward his doorway as you did with Kirishima. Instead, you stop at his secretary’s desk.

“Is Dynamight in?”

“Yes,” his secretary chirps without hesitation. How she’s able to still be her sunshiney self despite working immediately under Bakugou is beyond you.

Human resilience, you guess.

She clicks a few times with her mouse as she stares at her laptop screen, before looking back at you again. “He’s actually expecting you, Y/N-san.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief.

Hope flutters in your chest without your permission.

You clear your throat in an attempt to not sound winded. “Really?”

You’re itching to ask if he cleared out his schedule specifically for you, but luckily, you don’t even have to make a fool of yourself because his secretary brings it up herself.

She smiles, “He had me move things around so he could make time for you.”

At that, you blink at her, speechless.

These double meanings are not helping in easing your nerves about this impending encounter.

“You can go ahead,” she gestures to the office, effectively snapping you out of your reverie. “I already gave him the heads up that you’re here.”

Great, you think to yourself. No turning back now.

After shooting her a quick thank you, you clutch the folder to your chest, as if it’s some sort of protective gear, and walk to his door. Upon reaching it, you realize that you don’t even have to knock, because it’s already slung wide open and held in place by a stopper.

You walk in.

Refusing to look at Bakugou, who, from the corner of your eye you can see has his back towards you and is looking at the view of the city skyline, you opt for going through the pages of the file instead.

With a sharp inhale, you finally look up to meet his gaze, only to find that he’s still turned away from you.

He probably didn’t hear me come in, you think.

You clear your throat, and he startles, albeit so minutely anyone else would’ve missed it, finally turning to regard you.

“Hello, Bakugou-san.”

You don’t wait for him to greet you in return. You simply move forward and place the folder on his desk, before stepping back again, hands clasped together behind you. He nods in acknowledgment and shifts to sit on his office chair.

“That folder contains the report on the recruits, including your new sidekick, Moriyama Kairi. It includes their personal histories, interview transcripts, and resumés, as well as recommendations by the departments regarding costumes, training programs, and the like.”

He only grunts in response, thumbing through the pages as you speak. He flips through them so fast that you doubt he’s even going to bother anything beyond skimming through.

He pauses, though, on a certain page, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing as he examines it, before closing the folder and placing it back in front of him.

You brace yourself for a comment on an error of some sort.

Instead, he says: “Thanks.”

Your mind goes blank.

You scramble for a decent response.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“...Really?” he questions skeptically, pushing back on his desk to stand up, slowly circling it so that he can be face-to-face with you. He’s no less than two feet away now.

“It’s nothing?”

“I mean,” you stutter, shifting your eyes away from him to look at his desk, “it’s my job. That’s part of the job description.”

“Huh,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. Your eyes flicker back to him. Like Kirishima, he’s in his regular clothes, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“What?” you ask despite yourself, frustration bleeding into your voice.

He smirks, but there’s no malice behind it. “I didn’t know HR was supposed to produce a detailed write-up on how a sidekick can best complement their assigned Pro Hero.”

Your eyes widen slightly in alarm, and you find yourself grappling for any excuse to rid yourself of his suspicions.

Despite them being true.

“We are, actually,” you lie through your teeth. “I made a similar one for Kirishima back when we recruited Tanaka-san.”

“Really?” he asks again, visibly unconvinced, and you can’t help the annoyance that flashes through you. “Because I read through that file myself, and I didn’t see anything of the sort.”

Shit.

The playful expression that once adorned Bakugou’s face is now displaced by a serious countenance. You don’t even get to have a word in because he’s already speaking again.

“Why?” he starts, “Why did you do this for me?”

At that, you straighten up, face flaming in anger or embarrassment—you can’t tell. He seriously can’t be asking you this.

“It’s your first sidekick,” you retort, “And you’re not exactly Mr. Congeniality around here.”

You expect him to bite back with an insult himself, but he doesn’t.

“Okay, let’s say that’s true.”

You guffaw, “Wha–”

“Why go out of your way to make me this when you’re already drowning in work?”

You can’t believe the audacity of this guy.

“So you admit HR has been swamped these days?” you snap, but continue to deliver the last blow. “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know! Since it’s Kirishima who does all of the coordinating work with us.”

“I do know,” he spits back, “That’s by design, and I’m more involved than you’d think. And,” he shoots you a look, “don’t change the subject.”

You’re bubbling with vengeful words but what comes out is a huff.

“What do you want me to say, Katsuki?”

At your taunting, he opens his mouth to say something, but ultimately decides against it.

Your stomach drops in disappointment.

“...Well,” you say meekly, “if you don’t have anything else for me, I have to get back to my office.”

Turning your back to him, you’re about to head for the door when he grabs your wrist.

“Wait.”

Your heart leaps in your chest.

You pause for a moment, before spinning to look at him.

It takes you less than a second to conclude that gone is the aloof and composed Bakugou.

It’s now the vulnerable Katsuki, who’s unable to look you in the eye, standing in front of you.

“Fuck, I…”

You can’t help but ache at the sight of him struggling. Despite yourself, you try and gently coax it out of him.

“What is it, Katsuki?”

At your affectionate mention of his first name, he finally meets your eye. You almost stumble back from the intensity of his gaze.

But not as much as at what he was going to say next.

“I want…you to admit it.”

You frown, “Admit what?”

He exhales before closing his eyes shut.

“That you’re still in love with me.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #WOOOOOF no beta we die like men #i hope yall enjoy this #!!!

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the0racl30fd3lphi · 1 year

Text

More than friends, definitely more than lovers x.t. (pt3)

a/n: here is the third and (maybe) final part. y'all ate this up and really loved the first two, and for that i am so thankful for you all! so please, enjoy.

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

summary: nevermore's favorite tortured couple seems to be back on the mends, the only question, will it work out? are they going to make it through or are they only going to make it worse?

warnings: fluff, angst, love triangle (kinda) light swearing? not much tho, suggestive themes

word count: 2,365

part 1 part 2

——————————————————————————

"Hey," he smiled. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter. It was if he couldn't believe you were really there. Like he dreamed of this moment, and now that he has it, he truly couldn't comprehend if it was actually real or not. But it was. And his heart soared at that thought.

Standing there, you made no move to speak. You were waiting for him to say anything first. You wouldn't let yourself fall on your knees for him like your mind told you too. So you looked up right into his eyes, using every method you knew to make him bend to your will.

"Don't give me that look," For the one time in almost a month he looked way from you first.

"What look?" You played dumb.

"That one!" he threw one of his hands up and shook his head. "The one that makes me want to crawl at your feet and start.. begging." He still looked down as he ran his hands through his hear and went to grab for a hair tie. At his point he needed to get all the hair out of his face before he went to rip it all out.

"That sounds pretty nice actually, you should beg." You crossed your arms trying to keep in your anger, whatever was keeping him from apologizing was running your patience thin.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Xavier kept his head down but kept fiddling with the rings that adorned his slender fingers. "I was an asshole. You deserved much more than what I gave you. The last thing I should've done was.. what I did."

He was hesitant to actually acknowledge that he ignored you, his best friend of years, for a girl who genuinely gave him little to zero attention, got him arrested and imprisoned, and who wasn't actually into him after she led him on for so long.

"Oh yes and please, remind what it was that you did?" Now your anger was quite literally smoke blowing out of your ears. You missed this guy? He's wanted this little meeting for so long and he can't even commit to it.

"Well I-" He stuttered.

"Oh my god you can't even admit to it! You make me so frustrated!" You were yelling straight in his face now.

"Like, sexually?" This skinny little twink had the audacity to make a joke about your rage and start laughing at his own jokes.

"Why did I even entertain this stupid idea.." You pushed your headphones back onto your head and started for the stairs.

"Okay wait, wait hold up!" Xavier grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back towards him. With one slick movement he pulled them down to rest around your neck, and slid his hands down your arms to grab your hands. He stroked the back of your hands with thumbs smoothly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that. I ignored you, abandoned you, treated you so horribly for how much more you actually deserve. So please, if you find me deserving," Xavier got down on one knee, hand still in yours, and looked up at you with those big green eyes. "Forgive me, lets go back to what we were, and I will be forever at your mercy."

"Wow. Poetic. You write now?" You tilted your head at him and raised your brows so far, they almost disappeared into your hair. But the corners of your mouth can't help but lift.

"I dabble," his smile grew four times as large and made your stomach flip, in the good way.

"How about you dabble in being a better friend?" You laughed and pulled him up by the hand he was still holding. You weren't sure if he still realized but neither of you had let go yet.

Playfully, and to diffuse some of the lingering tension, you lightly shoved him and walked back up the stairs to leave this spooky little library. He laughed and followed after quickly, skipping two steps as he jumped up the stairs.

"Aye aye, captain."

——————————————————————————

It'd been a week since you and Xavier started talking again, he was attached at your hip. He worshiped the ground you walked on and to an extent it was hilarious. Beyond that you ate it up. This was as close to the attention you have craved from him for years as you were gonna get.

"See, now at this point I don't know if he's whipped or if you are," Val rolled from her desk, all the way to you at yours. One look at the polaroid's littered all over your desk, extra drawings, some pinned while some hidden, and soon she gagged.

"Shut up," You pushed her head off your shoulder but you couldn't push the smile off your face. Your eyes couldn't leave the most recent polaroid pinned on your mirror, written underneath "idiots in love" because Val thought she was the funniest bitch in the world. The photo itself was from a movie night you had with the whole group. Xavier and you had fallen asleep on the couch, not that close to each other, but close enough to have reached for each other subconsciously. Ajax snapped the photo and after your best friend wrote all over it he gave it to you later when people weren't paying attention and everything had died down.

"Why don't you just tell him you love him?" Val grabbed a pen from your desk and start drawing all over your hand and your forearm.

"I just got him back, I can't lose him again." You sighed and pushed up your sleeve and gave her more access room. Val stopped short for a minuet to look up into your eyes. She could read you like a poorly written magazine. It was in your eyes, everything she needed to know.

The desperation, the longing, the aching, she had to take a softer approach with you otherwise you'd break. Not that you were fragile, but you were.

"Sometimes you have to take risks, you'll never know if you don't try babe." Her hand came up to hold and stroke your cheek, "You should try. Isn't the risk of a love so great it'd go down in history, worth it?"

And it was if your love was a force so large, bound by gravity's thick lasso, you were pulled towards him. Unable and unwilling to stop yourself.

"Yeah, it is."

——————————————————————————

You realized some new things after talking to Val that night. Love made you poetic, you were up all night thinking about how your words were not your own, but merely fragments of the words he had given your soul to sing.

Oh god you were pathetic. So you did the only levelheaded thing you could do, tell Xavier everything and be rational later.

He was in his art shed late at night, music quietly pushing through the walls and finding their way thought every crevice. You pounded on the door and waited for him to open the door. You fiddled with the scarf that rested around your neck while you waited. After not hearing anything for a while you knocked again, louder this time.

Soon enough he opened the door and turned down the music when he saw you, "Hey, what's up?" He grabbed your hand and pulled you through the doorway and close it behind you.

"Xavier, look-" You cut yourself off after taking a glace around the shed. There was a painting, or a charcoal sketch, or a character study of you. Everywhere. Every 3 square feet, to be exact. "It's me?"

He laughed nervously, "Uh yeah." A hand came up to scratch and then readjust his still wet hair. "The distance kinda drove me mad, and you were some good inspiration." One new thing and your relationship with Xavier, he told you everything now. Full, and total, transparency. The music kept playing in the background and the low lighting provided the most insane ambiance for the possibly stupid decision you were about to make.

"Xavier I need to tell you something," You shed your scarf and sweater and placed it on the nearest chair. "It's really important." You looked into his eyes and all the words seemed to have magically left your mind, as well as all logical thought.

The way he was looking at you, sat on the edge of a nearby desk, arm propped up behind him to keep him steady. "Mhm?" He asked so innocently it drove you mad.

"I love you." You bit the bullet and spouted all the words that had been building up for quite literal ages. He flushed such a bright red it almost matched the color of his shirt.

"Y-You're my best friend," You cut him off by shaking your head vigorously.

"No. No no, Xavier, I love you." You'd never seen him so quiet. Blinking, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as if it was like swallowing was all he could do.

You rushed up to him and grabbed the side of his face, gently but eagerly attaching his lips to yours. You gave him time to respond, to push you off, to pull you closer, to do anything, and when nothing came you pulled away. Faces inches from each other all you did was stare in his eyes. So disheartened, you started to move backwards.

Xavier stood to his full height now and pulled you closer to him, both of his hands now up and resting on your face. His hands were so big they traced your jawline and caressed the side of your neck. Both of your mouths now moving slowly and sensually against each others. You brought up your hands to rest your palms against the back of his, a soft grip warming your hands and hearts.

Eventually oxygen was needed so you had to pull away. His hands stayed in place and yours only gripped his harder. Eye contact kept between you two mixed with the sound of your lungs greedily pulling air in and out. Smile crept up your faces and you started laughing. Both of you could barely grasp what was happening, all you knew was that you genuinely were never happier.

Following his arms your hands moved to the back of his neck, and his fell down to your waist. Years of pent up pining had come to this. Naturally you two became greedy. Panting and grabbing at each other for more. Your arm went pull around his neck and your other hand grabbed a fistful of his hair pulling and tugging. When you pulled a little too hard and a low groan escaped his mouth into yours, and the grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel his fingers digging into your skin, you only wanted more.

Things got desperate and hot fast. Xavier lowered his hands ever so slightly to creep up underneath your shirt and his cold palms set something afire in you. The simple touch of his skin on yours made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue.

Almost as soon as it had started, he started pulling away. "Wait, love wait," he pulled away from you and pushed the hair out of your face while studying it with his eyes.

"Did I do something?" Insecurity started to fill you as now you had a chance to think, though your mind was foggy.

"Do something? No, my girl you could never," He stroked the side of your face and pressed his forehead against yours. "Do you really mean this?"

"Sure would be real stupid if I didn't, huh?" You laughed and ran a hand through his hair. You two just took a minute to look in each others eyes, to take it all in.

"I love you." Xavier repeated back to you.

"I mean I'd hope so, that would suck if you didn't," Very quickly you returned to humor as your coping mechanism. He shook his head and pressed one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Ask me the stupid question already," You smiled and grabbed his hands.

"Y'know, patience is a virtue," He started tracing the veins on your hands. You looked at him and tugged on his arms gently. "Will you be my partner?" He tilted his head at the end of the question, what a bottom.

"No."

"What?"

"I'm joking, shut up and kiss me," You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Yes ma'am," He leaned back in and captured your lips with his.

——————————————————————————

When you got back to your dorm that night, lips swollen with a few hickeys poorly hidden by your poorly applied scarf, Val raised her eyebrows and immediately sat you down to talk. You spent hours that night going over it, every detail you could recall. Which was every single detail.

Into the late hours of the night, Val eventually fell sleep right next to you, face smashed into your pillow and a light snore escaping her lips every few minutes. Your blanket was pulled over her and you stared at the ceiling, too giddy to fall asleep just yet. Xavier had already texted you "i love you" and "goodnight my love <3" Of course you responded and you stared at your new home and lock screen, a photo of you and Xavier on a weekend trip to Jericho.

Then, at the genuine ass crack of dawn as the sun started rising, you remembered a promise you had made him years ago, when you were still young.

"I promise, I'll prove to them your heart beats the same way as theirs."

And you couldn't help but think you'd done it. He was so very capable of love and you only helped bring that out in him. Whatever the future had in store for you, you could handle it now. At least now with Xavier at your side you can.

Who could've ever imagined that you would've fallen so deeply in love with this boy? Against all odds, it seems, you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Infatuated like a poor man, and completely at his mercy.

——————————————————————————

@animesimp3456 @iovaki @navs-bhat @hellllloooosstuff @555stargirl555 @quinn165 @raeboo @heehooyeslol @leyseyb @aunicornmademedoit @regulus-black-223048 @o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o @pagesfalling @fanfictioniseverything @trickylittlewitch @baziutawrites @mxltifxnd0m @l-3rk @gumballsglassofmilk @bloodyziggy @ur-mom-is-h0t

#xavier thorpe #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #imagine #fluff #making up #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe wednesday #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe x gn!reader #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday series

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wiliowisp · 8 months

Text

Sebastian Sallow Headcanons | Pt.1

Part one | Part two | Part three

Random headcanons:

➻ he's actually a decent cook. if the recipe is in a book he's able to follow it to a 'T' and the result is always good. however, he has no natural sense in the kitchen, so if he tries to freestyle it ends up almost inedible.

➻ his patronus is a mourning dove. it makes him sad, at first, that the symbol of his greatest happiness is also a reminder of his loss. until he realises that mourning doves also symbolise a visit from lost loved ones, and now he sees his patronus as his parents protecting him.

➻ sebastian loves muggle technology. born on the advent of the industrial revolution, manufacturing and design were at their peak. when the first film cameras were invented, sebastian was quick to get his hands on one and fiddle with it, enamoured by the way muggles had now managed to emulate enchanted portraits.

➻ he also comes to love muggle literature. being such a voracious reader he chewed through wizarding fiction quickly (which there isn't much of) and migrated to reading muggle fiction. he quickly read all of dicken's books and even dabbled in some of the poets of the time - though poetry mostly went over his head.

➻ he finds quidditch, and sports in general, pretty boring. sebastian was never the sporty type and finds that quidditch matches are the perfect time to go to the library as most people are outside, in the cold, watching people hit things.

➻ he's bilingual. latin is his second language in as much latin can be, he will often write things he doesn't want others to know in latin so that they can't be deciphered. for this reason, spellwork and incantations come quite intuitively to him.

➻ he also loves learning other languages and is conversational in a few: french, german, and scottish gaelic.

➻ he hates swimming and the cold. he appreciates lakes and beaches of course, but in his opinion, they're best enjoyed from a distance.

➻ sebastian is well known in his year, he won't hesitate to start a conversation with anyone and his quick wit charms most people. however, as much as he loves being around others, books will always be his solace.

(that's all for now, i could probably go on forever with this boy lol)

#willow writes #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy

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chaoticallywriting · 1 year

Text

A Merciful King ☼ Chapter Three

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen II x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: awkward sex? Eating out, voyeurism, public sex,

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I originally posted this series on TheGreensWhore. Unfortunately I got shadowbanned on there so I’m reposting all of amk onto here and will be posting further chapters on here instead of there.

Synopsis: The war is over, the blacks have lost, and as Rhaenrya’s daughter it is your duty to marry a green to secure your younger brothers safety. If only Aemond paid attention to you like his brother does.

Previously || Next

Your handmaidens treat you as if it’s your wedding day. They scrub your skin until it’s a bright red.pouring various oils into the copper basin. Your hair is scrubbed, massaged, and braided while damp so that it would be curly for the big event. Lila even picks out a lovely night gown for you and sent for your favorite foods. None of which you can find the stomach to eat due to the revolting smells.

The other girls throw a gauzy fabric over the rods of your four-poster bed, creating curtains around all three sides that will offer an obscurity for the maester. It’ll be sheer enough to show your figures, but offers a little privacy. Lila helps you slip into your sage green nightgown. As she adjusts a tie, you feel her slip something small and cold into your hands, and you feel yourself tense up at the realization. The vial of blood, the one you no longer need.

Fuck. Roughly biting your lip, you turn your head to whisper “Thank you, but I won’t need another one after this.”

She nods and steps away, smiling at her handiwork. Myra, another one of your handmaidens, begins to unbraid your dried hair as the time nears. Your heart begins to pound, and you find yourself pacing after the handmaid's leave.You tuck the vial under one of your pillows and rack your hands through your curls.

Will he be rough? Quick and brutal, seeking only his end, or will he offer you the same kindness Aegon did? You fear that somehow this will all go horribly wrong, but you also fear your new reality. He cannot run away any longer, and Aegon seems intent on keeping you close to him. This will prove stressful and tiresome. You only hope that Aemond may stay bored of you, but also wish to seek a friendship with him.

All you wanted was peace. These last few years have been so harrowing, and you wish to know happiness once more. You scarcely remember what it was like to feel carefree How foolish you were to spend all that time wishing to be a woman, when all womanhood brought was pain.

After waiting for what felt like a century, someone knocked at your door. You're quick to pull it open, finding you’ll go insane if you wait one more moment. The maester stands at the front of the trio waiting outside your door. Aemond is at the back, towering over the other two with an unreadable expression on his face. Meanwhile, Aegon is nursing a goblet of wine, which does not surprise you.

There is a chilling anger present in his features. His glare holds a possessive tint that has you scrambling back to let them inside. This needs to end quickly. You can only hope Aemond is quick in bed as the maester shuffles in.

The door clicks shut, and you nervously fiddle with your gown. Aemond hasn’t even looked in your direction, opting to stare at the wall behind you, jaw clenched. Despite knowing this would happen, that doesn’t soften the blow to your pride. You know you look beautiful, hair silken and curled. Lila had dabbled rose oil onto your neck and wrists, while Myra had brushed some into your hair. A satin green robe was wrapped around you to cover your nightgown from anyone who isn’t your husband. The tie is wrapped tightly around your waist, cinching your waist.

“Your grace, the king and I shall stand to the side while you and your husband may start. It will be as if we are not even here.”

There is no way to pretend that is true. Even if they stay silent, you can feel Aegon's gaze on you. His eyes are full of lust, he looks at you how Aemond should. It makes this feel worse as you look into his own eyes, memories flashing between you. You find yourself blushing at his gaze.

The heat from before curls in the pit of your stomach as you tear your gaze from his. Aemond moves towards the bed, and you follow, slowly taking off your robe. He takes off his boots but keeps the rest of his clothes on, opting to untie his pants and pull himself out. You take a deep breath at the sight. He is longer than Aegon, but not as fat. You don’t know if that’s better or worse.

“Do you want me to…?” You gesture to your gown, going to untie one of your straps. He stops you and shakes his head. You nod.

The blanket is soft beneath your hands as you sit on the edge of the bed. Hands tightly gripping the sheets in anticipation. His hand finds your shoulder, lightly pushing you onto your back. The air around you two is tense and incredibly awkward. You look away when Aemond fists his member and jerks it a couple of times. His soft grunts fill the air before he stops and pushes your dress up to your hips.

You hate this, hate this, hate this. You want to push him away when he lines himself up with you, hovering above you and staring off at the blankets beside you. This was not how you imagined your first time with your husband. You had dreamed of him magically changing his mind and kissing you one day before taking you to bed. This is nothing like that.

The wind is knocked out of you once he bottoms out inside of you. Your hand grips his shoulder in a bruising hold as a breathless gasp leaves your lips. This hurts more than with Aegon. He’s deeper, and it seems the dryness has added an uncomfortable factor. You may have been a little wet at the thought of your night with his brother, but not much.

He begins to slowly thrust inside you, only adding to the god awful feeling. You don’t realize you're crying until you taste the saltiness of your own tears. A few moments go by with that awful feeling. You find yourself staring up at the ceiling above when the pain slowly subsides. It takes a few moments for the pain to subside. Not enough for you to suddenly enjoy yourself but enough to stop crying. Soon his thrusts turn sloppy and his breathing intensifies before stilling above you.

Aemond pulls out of you, stuffing himself back into his pants and standing up. You stay lying down, finding there to be an uncomfortable ache between your legs now. You don’t realize you were tightly fisting the blankets until reality starts to set back in. The murmurs of the maester speaking with Aemond can be heard, but it sounds far away. All you wish to do is curl up in a ball, but there’s a small part of you telling you to get up. To jut your chin out and act like the bedding did not bother you as much.

You are Rhaenrya’s daughter. A mighty dragon, not some sad little lamb to be devoured. Eaten whole and spit out the bones. You devour, you conquer. So with a shaky breath you pull yourself up until you sit on the edge of the bed, eyes a bit bleary as you watch the maester leave. Aegon’s cup seems to be empty, he eyes you with an unreadable look before storming out after the maester.

Aemond is putting on his boots as you try to find your bearings. You know he has a separate bedchamber nearby and is probably planning to head there. Clearing your throat, you wrap your arms around yourself and stare at your husband.

“I didn’t ask for this, you know?”

He scoffs.

“Truly, I was asking your brother for an annulment this morning, and now we are here.”

There are a few beats of silence. He won’t look at you as he thinks of what to say, so you keep talking.

“I know she holds your heart, I do not wish to steal it. I simply want to be friends, like when we were young and still happy with our lives.” You stand up, wincing at the movement, and pad over to him. He stares at the ground as you stand a few inches in front of him. “If we are stuck in this marriage then the least either of us could do is be nice to one another or the rest of our lives shall be miserable. I do not wish for that, and I assume you don’t either.”

“I love her” his voice is low, his eyes sweeping up to look at yours. “I will never stop loving her.”

There’s a stabbing sensation within your heart at his words. You may not love him, but to hear your husband declare his love for another hurts nonetheless. You are stuck in a loveless marriage and will probably never be loved. It is your fate to never know what it’s like to hold one's heart as this Alys Rivers does.

“I know.” you murmur. “But can you please stop talking about having me killed? It’s not a very nice thing to do.”

His lips twitch at that before nodding. You hope your words will stick, you’ll pray about it if you must. Aemond leaves soon after, and suddenly your room feels so cold. You climb back into bed, hand searching beneath your pillow before wrapping your fingers around the glass vial. You pour a few drops onto the bed where you once laid before disposing of the rest. That will assure Alicents spies that you are still a maiden. Hopefully your handmaidens will gossip and word of this night will get out. There won’t be a way to try to shame you anymore, at least not for now.

Many days have gone by since the consummation. It’s been long enough that your blood should arrive within the next few days. You obviously know it won’t and with that all will think you are with Aemond’s child. Little do they know it’s been two months, not just one.

Perhaps your handmaidens will be loyal, and you’ll be able to go on another month or so before the pregnancy is discovered. You wonder if it’s worth keeping a secret at this point, or if you should wait for someone else to point it out.

The stares have stopped, along with the whispers. You feel grateful for this and find yourself strolling through the gardens. Today you will not go to the godswood and spend the rest of the time panicking in your room. You shall go through the gardens, maybe stop by the nursery. Perhaps attend dinner for once instead of having it sent to your room.

Just off the path along the walkway in the gardens, you find a bench sequestered from the watchful eyes of the court and find yourself compelled to take a seat, so you may bask in the sun. You tilt your head back and close your eyes as you take in the shining rays, hands clasped in your lap.

The birds chirp peacefully, and the breeze shifts through the leaves. This moment is truly peaceful, but the peace does not last for long. It never does.

You hear the snap of a twig and open your eyes. In front of you is Aegon, surprisingly without a goblet in hand. He quickly approaches you and cups your cheeks. His goblet falls to the ground, and he pulls you in for a bruising kiss. He does it so quickly that you hardly have time to protest, let alone reciprocate it before he’s pulling away.

“I have been thinking about doing that since your night with my brother.” His lips trail down your neck, hands slipping to your thighs. You tightly close them and put your hands on his chest, ready to push him away when he continues. “I had to be there, to make sure you didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t, now can you stop? We’re in public.” He smirks against your neck, face tilting up to look into your eyes. “Anyone may see, and people just stopped talking about me.”

“Let them talk, I want everyone to hear your pretty moans. I haven’t heard them in so long” He kneels between your legs, slowly pulling them apart despite trying to keep them closed. “Please?”

You’ve never heard Aegon say such a word. It honestly stuns you. He takes this moment to rub up and down your thighs, pulling your skirts up enough to feel your skin beneath his hands. He kisses your inner thigh, and you find that heat returns. Gods you must be weak to consider doing this, but he desires you in a way no one else has. The things he’s made you feel have been otherworldly. You find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself.

Aegon smirks, nipping at your inner thigh before pushing his head under your skirt. You quietly yelp at his actions, a hand instinctively going to his hair while the other lays flat on the stone bench. He licks a thick strip up your folds, you find yourself shuddering and biting your lip to try to contain your moans.

You can’t close your eyes, you have to remind yourself to try to keep a watch just in case. He keeps licking your folds before his tongue finally swirls around your bundle of nerves, causing you to jerk in shock. A strained moan slips out at his actions, and you feel him tighten his grip around your thighs.

He wraps his lips around your bud, beginning to harshly suck on it. You instinctively grind against his face at the action, moaning louder and slapping a hand to your mouth at the noise. The hand in his hair tightens and pulls. The fire in your stomach is burning.

Aegon moans as you pull on his hair, the sound vibrating against your clit. Two of his fingers spread your folds apart. Running along them to coat his fingers in your slick before thrusting two fingers inside you. Your stomach tightens and not long after he finds a spot within you that brings stars to your eyes. You come around his fingers with shaking thighs and an arched back, strangled moans muffled by your hand.

He fucks you through your orgasm, letting go of your bud and opting to kitten lick it. He groans at the feel of your walls convulsing around his fingers, and slowly pulls them out once you’ve calmed down. You drop your hand and pant, hands pushing your skirts down when he pulls away.

Aegon pushes his fingers against your lips and says in a commanding voice, “suck.”

You find yourself doing as you're told without even thinking, mouth opening and lips wrapping around his fingers before you suck on them. Your eyes close as you softly moan, thighs rubbing together at the feel this brings you. Aegon reluctantly pulls his fingers out of your mouth and stands.

He’s smirking down at you, looking at your blown out eyes and flushed cheeks. Before he can stop himself, he’s leaned down to kiss you, murmuring against your lips. “I will find you tonight so that I may feel you against my cock again.”

He leaves you in that little hidden area of the gardens, a confident stride to his walk. You spend a few moments collecting yourself before rushing off, only hoping no one witnessed the two of you. You’ll need a cool bath now before dinner. The nursery will have to wait until tomorrow.

Family dinner comes and goes with little fanfare. Alicent spoke for most of it, trying to get her son to open back up, while Aegon blatantly stared you down. It was hard to focus on the food in front of you, and oftentimes found yourself finding comfort within your cups to keep from flushing under his stare.

Aemond hardly responds to his mother nor does he eat much. His mind is elsewhere. You’ve only seen him a handful of times since that night. Not as if you’ve tried though. Most of your time has been spent trying not to puke around others or make your obvious distaste about the smell of meat known.

By the time you made it back to your chambers, you found yourself particularly exhausted. Dealing with the minefield that is a family dinner while being an outsider to it has left you feeling faint. Once inside, you find yourself crawling into bed, not caring about your dress or the jewelry you wore and drifted off to sleep.

Your slumber did not last for long, though. You feel hands slowly peeling your dress off of you, soft ones at that. “No…” you mumble softly, half-heartedly pushing them away while keeping your eyes closed.

“Shhh,” the deep voice says. You know that voice, it’s Aegon. At this moment all you want to do is sleep, and you feel dread rattle your bones at what he might try to do. “I’m just taking this off.”

“Not tonight, please” you nuzzle your pillow and groan. “Just sleep tonight.”

Your dress is off now, and you shiver as the air grazes your skin. He takes some time figuring out how to take off your earrings and gives up on your necklace before settling in behind you. He pulls the blankets above you both before wrapping his arms around and nuzzles the back of your neck.

“I just want to hold you,” he says. His voice lacks its usual mischief, and you relax in his arms. His lips turn up against the back of your neck in what you can only assume is a smile before he sighs. “I’ve always wanted to hold you.”

Any other day, one where you are sober, his words would confuse you. Tonight, though, you simply find yourself humming at his words, too sleepy to realize what he may mean. Your legs tangle with his, and you sigh at the comforting feeling his embrace brings you. His fingers trace your bare belly, and he occasionally kisses your neck. Not in the hungry way that he did the night in his chambers, which confuses you.

Aegon did not seem capable of this type of thing. Ever since he married his sister, he was only known for fucking whores and getting drunk. He was hardly ever serious, at least from what you’ve seen. Certainly never sweet like this.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me?” You don’t know it, but gods, your words make him almost lose his resolve. He softly groans at your words before shaking his head, his voice is low and soft, almost sweet.

“Not like this, you seem too tired. My son must be exhausting you in there.”

“You can’t stay though,” your voice is groggy, and you briefly open your eyes before groaning and closing them once more. He nods, hand flat against your stomach, but doesn’t move.

“I won’t, just go back to sleep.” So you do, and your dreams consist of him, all him. But none of it is horrifying as it was before.

#aegon x reader #aegon #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #hotd x you #hotd x reader #hotd smut

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idyllcy · 1 year

Text

eros & psyche

Word count: 5k

Summary: the five times Komaeda tells you he likes you and the one time you tell him the same

cherry pink confessions

chocolate flavored kisses

and a bouquet of red roses

You stare at the red roses in the guy's hands, and you pause. "You want to date me to meet your soulmate, don't you?"

The guy sputters, and you sigh. "It's that girl over there." You point absentmindedly, changing your shoes and heading to your classroom. The guy yells thank you in the distance, rushing over to the girl with the roses instead. You dodge the students as they run around to their valentines, and you blink slowly at your desk.

You glance at the bouquets, reading through the letters and tossing flowers at classmates as they swarm around your desk for the chocolates. Ex-lovers... exes... exes... teacher... student... friend... friend... random admirer... ex— wait. random admirer?

You stop sorting through the letters, reading through the letter from the admirer, and you pause when you see the writing. It's familiar. The scent of fresh laundry dabbled on the paper reminds you of someone. It's strange. You didn't think you were able to recognize scents. Well, Nanami smells like strawberries, and Sonia smells like lilies. Teruteru is in a resting scent of cooking oil, and Mitarai smells like takeout. Komaeda... ah. He smells like fresh laundry, huh?

"Komaeda, do you have a crush on me?"

Komaeda jumps out of his skin as he stops at the door, blinking slowly at your question.

The cherry blossoms flutter outside, and your eyes lock with his. Komaeda stumbles over his words, confused beyond belief, trying to make sense of your question. Him? You? How— How'd you even find out? The letter wasn't even written by him? He had someone else write it for him? How would you even recognize that it was him? He had purposely stayed behind and almost ran late just so you wouldn't think it was him. Where did he screw up—

"Yes or no," You stare at him, and Komaeda averts his eyes to the ground.

"H-how did you tell?"

"Only you're capable of such poetic writing," You tuck the letter into your skirt, looking through the rest of your letters and gifts. It's creepy if you tell him you recognized the letter by scent. You hand the majority of the chocolate to Teruteru to mess with, and the roses go to Miss Yukizome to help decorate the class. Ryota gets photos of the letters for his animations, and you help Chiaki beat a romance simulator.

Komaeda thinks you've forgotten about him by the end of the day. You're still painting Sonia's nails, whispering and giggling about what she was going to do when she got home. Komaeda packs his bag as the bell rings, getting ready to leave.

"Hold it!" You yell for him as you rush to stuff as many of the letters into your bag as you can, and Komaeda stares at you as you run over to him. "Let's go."

"Why are you..."

"Go out with me," You stare up at him.

"H-huh? Komaeda stumbles over his words. He thought you were going to leave him. You were known to just point soulmates out on Valentine's instead of accepting anyone. If anything, you were the one receiving all of the confessions. Just what did he do for you to ask him out?

"I'll make you the happiest man alive during the time that we date, then I'll hand you to your soulmate when we finish. Please?"

"W-what if I want to stay with you?"

"Don't be silly," You blink twice. "No one dates me without knowing I match them to their soulmate."

"A-ah," Komaeda fiddles with his fingers. But he likes you. "Sure. We can date."

"Great!" You reach for a contract out of your bag. A couple of letters spill out with the contract, and Komaeda stares at the pink pen that falls out. Komaeda crouches down to reach for it, handing it to you as you hand him a contract."Please have this signed by tomorrow! Love you!"

"Ah... I... like you too."

He thinks you look gorgeous above him.

[Step one: Confess] [Complete]

"Where do you want to go for our first date?" You blink at Komaeda expectantly.

He shakes his head. The school is empty at this hour. The sun is burning out in the sky, and most of the students have headed to the cafeteria to eat. Hope's Peak had the best food, especially with Teruteru around. Ibuki might be performing downstairs again. He doesn't quite know how he ended up cornered by you at this hour. "I don't know."

"Really?" You tilt your head at him, hiding something behind you.

"Well," Komaeda pauses. It looks like a basket. "Picnic?"

"I thought you'd say that." You grin, pulling the basket from behind you. "shall we find somewhere?"

"I know a place," Komaeda mumbles, dragging you with him as you wind through the flower garden. "The ultimate botanist doesn't like us in his garden, but there's a wildflower field just beyond his garden. I hope it's empty."

"It should be," You follow behind him. "Komaeda-kun, what's your favorite food?"

"I prefer salty things to sweet things," Komaeda pauses. "Maybe... shrimp chips?"

"Mmm," You stop as he does, and you barely glance at the field. You pull a notebook from the basket next, scribbling down his answer. "What's your favorite color?

"Green."

You stare at the string on his pinky, noting down the hex code. "Sounds about right."

"How do you match people?" Komaeda helps you set up the picnic blanket, blinking slowly as you set up the picnic with ease. You pat the seat next to you, staring up at the tree. You don't answer him immediately, reaching for a sandwich instead.

"I match them based on soulmate strings," You swallow, glancing at him. "They exist. They have strings on their fingers." You pause. "If you believe that, it is."

"So... a predestined soulmate?" Komaeda hums. "Sounds fun. Doesn't that make soulmates real?"

"Yeah," You shrug. "My parents called me shrimp eyes."

"Because you see strings?"

"Yeah," You pause. It's strange that he's so accepting of something outrageous. "You believe me?"

"Well, it would explain your ultimate talent," Komaeda smiles, chewing on the shrimp chips.

"I made that, by the way," You kick your legs as you grab another slice.

"How do you even..."

"Trade secret," You pull out the strawberries, and Komaeda blinks slowly at the sight of the heart shape.

"You're... very romantic, aren't you?" Komaeda laughs as you pull out a heart-shaped cake.

"It comes with my talent," you hum. "Do you want a sandwich?"

"It's fine," Komaeda smiles. "Spending time with you is more than enough."

"Weirdly," You mumble as you write, "smooth with words."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Everything's a good thing if you get matched with people that suit you," You click the pen. "Likes and dislikes?"

"Like pretty people," He pauses. "And dislike ugly people."

"Mm," You scribble, following his words. "Pretty is subjective, what kind of pretty?"

"Pretty." Komaeda deadpans.

"Vague," You sigh, falling onto the mat. "Anything else?"

"What about you? Any fun facts?"

"I hate white day." You grin.

"Why?"

"Secret" You shrug. "Anything else you want to know?"

"Do you need my background?"

"I already have your background." You hum. "Rich people have more easily accessed histories. How much money do you have right now?"

"I don't think you want to know."

"But I do."

"Does money play into soulmates?"

You glance at the string tied to his ring finger. "Not really. It's more out of curiosity."

"I'll tell you," Komaeda stares at you, the wind blowing his hair. "But you have to keep it a secret."

"Will do!"

Komaeda says the number, but it goes in one ear and out the other. He's pretty. Pretty white hair with pink tips and pretty pale skin like snow. Snow white? You don't know. He's pretty. The flowers behind him seem dull compared to his face. His hair is sickly, and his skin wraps around his bones. His illness, huh? Chemo sounds terrible for someone only in high school. No one should have to go through something like that.

"Is... something wrong?"

You blink at him slowly, sighing. "Nope."

"Did I do something?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you staring?"

Komaeda's lips are parted as he asks you, and you jut out your bottom lip. He's pretty. You pout when you remember that you're setting him up with someone through. You're sure that you'd keep him if his string had not been cut. Maybe you'll keep him if you try hard enough. The universe already destined someone to be his. Who are you to go against what the universe has already planned out for him?

"You're pretty," You hum.

"You flatter me," Komaeda looks to the side. "trash like me-"

"Has a soulmate," You sit up, turning to stare at him. "Everyone has a soulmate."

"What about you?"

You stare at your fingers. They're empty. "I'm just Cupid. Cupid doesn't have a soulmate."

"But Cupid married Psyche, did he not?" Komaeda reaches for your hand, tracing out letters in your hand.

I like you

You blink at Komaeda.

Right.

"Then I guess that makes me Saint Valentine."

[Step two: Date] [Complete]

You kick your leg over Komaeda's, leaning on his shoulder as the two of you sit on his couch, staring at the movie on screen. The two of you watch in silence, your hand in the popcorn bucket as he rests his arm on the rest. The wind blows outside, and you jump in your skin as the screen flashes. Komaeda blinks lifelessly, and you sigh in exhaustion as the movie credits roll.

"How are you not scared?" You reach to turn the lights on.

"Worst things have happened to me." Komaeda hums, leaning back as you reach over him. "Remember?"

"I'm surprised you didn't throw everything and decide to commit atrocious crimes after it," You sit back down, scrolling through the rest of the movie selections. "Do you miss your parents?"

"It's been a long time, so... not really."

"I see," You hand him the tablet as you note down his answer. "Komaeda-kun, I think your soulmate is a therapist. It's the most ideal relationship-"

"That's a joke."

"Yeah. I don't know who your soulmate is. I have to go find them." You stare at the hex code. "You know, everyone in hope's peak meets their soulmate at some point during their time at the school."

"Really?"

"Our seniors," You pause. "Class 75. Their soulmates were all in their class. There was a case where one of our seniors had two soulmates in the class."

"Does it have to be within the class?"

"No," You pause. "One of them had a reserve course soulmate. Well, not reserve course. An ordinary soulmate. Not an ultimate."

"Do you think I have a reserve course soulmate?" Komaeda grimaces. "I'll stay with you if I do."

"That's not for me to decide," You shrug. "Besides, I'm not able to stay with anyone."

"Why?"

"Saint Valentine never married."

"But Eros did." Komaeda tits his head. "Eros ended up with Psyche and fell in love with her, no?"

"Eros shot himself accidentally when shooting the second arrow. I'm not foolish enough to do that. Besides, didn't we already establish that I'm the Saint instead of Cupid?" You raise a brow at him in amusement. "Let's talk deep stuff. Any family trauma?"

"You know everything already." Komaeda pulls his knees to his chest, resting his chin on his shins. "You ran a background check."

"I don't know how you felt throughout the entire situation."

"I've grown used to loss." Komaeda mumbles quietly, mostly to himself. "I grew up losing everything everywhere I went. I lost my dog in elementary, then my parents, and then I got kidnapped, found a lottery ticket, was diagnosed with cancer and frontotemporal lobe dementia, accepted into hope's peak, and then now I'm here."

"You don't feel sad that you didn't get to experience anything?"

"Not really." Komaeda stares at you.

"Is there anything you really want to do?"

Komaeda pauses. "Love."

You sigh. "Is that it?"

"Yeah." There's a significant silence before he speaks up again. "What about you?"

"You're my client." You smile back at him, knees tucked to your chest and smile on your face. "My job is to find your soulmate. The less you know about me, the less likely you are to be attached to me."

"But that's not fair." Komaeda pouts. "I obviously asked you out because I like you."

"I can't."

"Isn't that lonely?"

"All saints are lonely." You close your eyes. "Especially Saint Valentine."

[Step three: trauma dump] [Complete]

There are three steps to finding a soulmate through you. You call it operation lovebug. You don't remember the last time it didn't work. Your exes always sent better break-up anniversary gifts than gifts they actually gave you during the relationship. You don't even know how many rose quartz pieces you've received. You wonder if they charge at all. You don't know. Do you even care? You stare at the notes made for Komaeda's drawing, and you exhale.

Gotta find him his soulmate.

You doodle red flowers absentmindedly, wracking your mind and checking your laptop to look for his match. The numbers and hex codes run through your mind as you look for a match for Komaeda. You know everyone on campus. The reserve course paid handsomely to you as long as your soulmate match was good. It's strange. You don't remember when you could see the whole stringed color thing.

Komaeda steps into the room, handing you a mug of tea as you continue scrolling.

"Have you ever had Kohakutou crystal candy?" You switch tabs to stare at the crystals.

"No," Komaeda hums. "Why?"

"I saw it on pinterest just now," You sip the tea, scrolling through

"What are you up to?"

"Finding your soulmate," You yawn, thanking him for the tea as you take a sip.

Komaeda sits next to you, staring at his profile you made. "You draw?"

"It's all in the romance," You hum, starring two people. "Man or woman?"

"No preference," Komaeda rests his chin on your shoulder as you continue scrolling. "Does it have to be someone? Why can't it be you?"

"It's cause," You reach for his hand, staring at the ribbon. "I'm the Saint. I have no soulmate."

Komaeda tilts his head at you, and you shrug.

The strings are all over the place in front of your eyes. Komaeda's string is a bright green, and yours doesn't have one. His string is on his ring finger. You had to find him his soulmate. It wouldn't be right if you didn't. Yet, you think you had seen that green once on campus. The color on your screen is found, and you reach for the string. Soulmates exist. They exist in front of your eyes, and none of them have ever been wrong. Though, it hurts a little to let him go.

You hand him a bag of seaweed chips, and he sits next to you. You put everything on a spreadsheet; the colors only you able to tell the difference between. They all look relatively similar to him.

Komaeda doesn't understand, but he supposes you have your own way.

"Male." You click open the student's profile, checking his string again. "Hajime Hinata, born January first, a hundred seventy nine centimeters tall, has a chest size of 91 centimeters, also-"

"Are you sure?" Komaeda glances at the male. "He's a reserve course student."

"Ex-reserve course student. He got expelled." You pause. "Huh."

Komaeda tilts his head, and you stare at the hanging string on his finger.

You pause. "He cut his own soulmate string."

Komaeda doesn't get it.

You blink slowly. "Then that means he can see the string."

"How many people is that?"

"Just... me." You pause.

How tragic; even his own soulmate didn't want him anymore.

He tilts his head at you as you stare up at him for a reaction. He doesn't feel anything. He's used to losing people. You feel bad for him. To think that he would lose everyone that ever mattered to him. Maybe he's just as lonely as he thinks you are. Maybe there was some sort of truth to your relationship with him. Something something... lonely.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You mumble. You close your laptop, finishing the cup of tea Komaeda brought you. Your lips are pulled downward, and Komaeda reaches to pull your cheeks up into a half smile. You stare at him, tears welling in your eyes. You think it hurts more for you than him.

"Well," Komaeda exhales, letting go of your cheek. "I like you, so it doesn't matter to me."

"That's not how it works, Komaeda-kun."

"It could, though."

[Step four: locate soulmate] [Failed]

You find yourself chewing on your bottom lip more these days. Komaeda's been staying over at your dorm, sitting as you turn down whatever gift he offers you, wondering how you're going to make up the contract to him. You've never seen a soulmate ribbon cut before. It had to be someone else who had your talent. There was no way someone could see the strings like you did.

"How do you want me to make it up to you?" You mumble quietly, staring at him.

Komaeda frowns at the way his heart wavers when you look so dejected.

The room is dark. There are no lights, and not even the moon peeks past the blinks. Komaeda can't see your face, but your voice sounds sad. The rain drums against the glass, and the rhythmic sound of water acts as a relaxant to Komaeda.

"Was everything a job to you?"

"Dating is a job to me." You mumble. "My job is to find someone's soulmate. Strings don't get cut unless something significant happens."

"Why couldn't it have been me?"

"You can't see the string," You rest your cheek on the table, and Komaeda pauses at the sound. You sound much sadder than he is. Was it that? You were worse off than him? Was he nothing more than a client to you when you had rushed to him with flushed cheeks and exhaustion on your lips? Were you just that desperate to have him as a client?

"Can we date instead?"

"No dating my clients."

"What if I burn the contract?"

"Still no dating ex-clients."

"Not at all?"

"No."

Komaeda rests his cheek on the table as well, mimicking you. "Then what shall I do? I want to date you."

"Maybe if you try hard enough—"

"I am."

"Well, it's not working."

"You know, you fall for people really easily, lovebug."

"Lovebug?"

"Lovebug."

You mumble the nickname to yourself, your voice growing shakier each time you repeat it.

Komaeda exhales. "I'd like to be able to see you."

"Too bad." You mumble.

"Really?" Komaeda pouts.

"Yeah."

"Is it because you're scared of me seeing you cry?"

You go quiet, the sound of your finger running along the wood replacing it. Quiet breathing fills Komaeda's ears as you sniffle quietly to yourself, the darkness making it so that he can't see you. His hand reaches for your cheek, wiping the tears between the corner of your eye and your nose. He can't see you, but it seems he's grown used to the way your face is shaped. He even remembers where to avoid when tracing shapes on your skin. How... how... how. How surprising.

"Are you sure you like me?"

"Of course." Komaeda mumbles. "I fell for you before I ever got to meet my soulmate."

"That's hard to believe."

Yet your voice holds no doubt. Komaeda thinks he succeeded in calming you down.

But it wasn't a lie. Komaeda doesn't remember a time when his heart wasn't fighting his ribcage around you. Even when you had pressed your chest to his back, helping with homework, or even as you scream from next to him while playing Mario kart against Chiaki and your perfume sent his mind into overdrive, he had never had a moment when he wasn't in love with you. He wonders if he'll scare you off with such intense emotions.

You go quiet, and Komaeda scoots closer to you, tracing your bottom lip, freeing it from your teeth. He leans in slowly, the rain pelleting against the window, his breath mixing with yours. He's close enough to see you now. Your eyes stare at him lifelessly, not a sliver of hope behind them. He pauses, searching your eyes for something. Anything. Something that would let him lean in; and he finds it. You lean in slowly, maybe unconsciously, but he takes it as an invitation, leaning in anyways.

Thunder roars outside, and Komaeda jumps in his skin, hitting his head on the boxes as he jumps.

"Are... you alright?"

Komaeda coughs lightly. "Yeah... yeah. It's the luck."

You laugh, and Komaeda hears you sit up, reaching for the back of his head. He flushes as you pull him to your chest, running your hand through his hair, checking for any wounds. He's probably red enough for you to see him in the dark. Yet, you don't mention anything, even as he's radiating heat onto your chest and listening to your heart race. Maybe he has a chance.

"I like you."

"I know you do."

[Step five: ???] [???]

Komaeda wanders in Hope's Peak's library, stopping at the section about classical history. The books seem to have been left untouched for ages, and he pauses at the sight of Eros and Psyche. He collects that book first before he looks for a book on the saints of the roman empire. The book is heavy, but he holds it anyways, sitting on the couch and flipping through the legends and myths left behind by the past.

You said you were lonely as Cupid.

But Eros had Psyche, and Saint Valentine had all the people he had blessed during the time he was alive. So in the end, neither of them was really lonely. Eros may have made a mistake, but it was a beautiful one. That was how love was, Komaeda supposes. Love was as simple as falling in love with someone. Love doesn't make sense, the more he thinks about it. You were incredible to be able to make sense of it all. How incredible of you.

It's simple things. Psyche went through hell and back for Eros, and Eros fought against his own mother as a symbol of his own love. His mother told him to force her to fall for the vilest creature, yet his own heart wavered at the sight of a mere mortal. Love was foolish, maybe. Love was falling for people that you couldn't have and chasing after that person until somehow they would have them. Love was chasing after your love until you had them in your hand. Were you in love with him? Maybe you were. Love was hiding yourself and praying the other didn't get to know you.

To hide yourself in the name of love, and to hide yourself in order that your love may never know the dark sides of you, and to think that you could only be loved if they never knew what you looked like. No. Not quite. There was no love without trust. Maybe that was the foundation. All love came from getting to know the other first, and then it came from just knowing that the other person would love you no matter what you were. That was how simple love was.

Eros fled when Psyche saw his face, and the little mortal had been heartbroken. The god of love himself had told her that there was no love without trust. Yet, it wasn't as if she didn't love him. She had done everything that Aphrodite herself had asked of her to see him again. She had even died just so that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to meet her again. Their ending is happy, unlike the many other greek myths that float through society. He wonders if he was your Psyche.

Though, maybe love did exist without trust.

Komaeda stares at the book in his hand, flipping to the right Saint.

Saint Valentine wasn't lonely either.

He restored the sight of a young one, and he had even written her a final letter before his martyr. His life was a mixture of stories, but he had ultimately been there for everyone. From the persecution to marriage in secrecy, he had been the one there for love, never for himself. In a way, he lived to see every single Christian marriage at the time. To wed people even in a time of persecution, was that what love was? You aren't as much of a Saint Valentine as you think you are.

Saint Valentine had an abundance of couples he had married in the name of religion, those who were willing to risk their lives in the name of love. Though more religious, Komaeda thinks the Saint wasn't lonely either. One legend stated that even the king took a liking to him. But faith mattered more to the saint, and he was stoned at the cross. He thinks you made a mistake. You're much more like Eros than Valentine. You would be Eros, and he would be your Psyche.

He thinks he understands why you hate the fourteenth a little more as he closes the book.

It's a lonely day for you.

Komaeda stops by Shikiba's place, asking for a bouquet of flowers, and Teruteru hands him a box of Kohakutou crystal candies as he stops by the kitchen. You'll like them, right? You said you wanted to try them. Maybe you will. Teruteru has him try one first since he looked skeptical, and he calms once there's nothing in the food.

You had asked him out the first time, so he would do the same for you this time.

The sun is shining today, unlike the other times the two of you spent together. It's strange. Komaeda had received your confession on a sunny day, and now you were receiving his on a sunny day. He stops at your dorm, rocking on his feet, knocking twice. When you don't answer, he tries the door. It's unlocked. He steps in, sliding his shoes off, looking for you in your dorm.

Your dorm was filled with letters on the walls. You taped each one to the wall so that you could reread them. In the center rested a coffee table, chess, uno, monopoly, and cards stacked on top of each other neatly there. You loved harder than anyone else. The letters of romantic declarations on the wall were more than enough proof of such.

You're not in sight.

Instead, he finds you in bed, clicking at the laptop in your hand, answering emails and inquiries about who their soulmate might be. Komaeda leaves his jacket on the rack, stepping behind you, flowers and candy in hand. You noticed him when he entered. Maybe you were even kind enough to leave the door open for him. How lucky of him.

"You know, Ko-kun," You snap your laptop shut, turning to face him. "I hate White day."

"Isn't it because you're the busiest?" Komaeda smiles, handing you the roses.

You take them, placing them on the bed next to you. You toss your laptop onto your pillows as well.

"No"

He hands you the candy next. "Then why?"

You open the box, eyes brightening at the sight of the candy. You reach for a piece, holding up it to his lips, and he takes a bite as you answer him.

"I'm always single by white day." You bite on the leftover half.

Komaeda blinks at you as you chew on your bottom lip along with the candy, anxiety written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, locking his fingers between yours, his other hand tapping your ring finger before reaching for your bottom lip between your teeth.

"I'll tie my string around your ring finger, isn't that enough?" He smiles, tracing your bottom lip. "You have me this year."

"Not quite," You let go of your bottom lip, staring at him. "That's not how it works."

"But I don't have a soulmate anymore, so wouldn't that make us a match?"

"It still feels like I stole you from your soulmate."

"Not if I was the one to ask you," Komaeda looks down to stare at you, a smile on his face. "Maybe I was your soulmate the whole time."

"Don't be ridiculous," You chew on the candy, a harmless pout on your lips.

Komaeda grins when a smile makes it onto your face.

You like it.

"Shall I take that as a yes?"

You stare up at him, holding another candy to his lips.

Komaeda bites down.

"So?"

"I like you too." You hum, eating the half leftover.

Komaeda blinks at you slowly, cupping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss instead. You melt into this one, the sound of rain far away and the sound of thunder in the back of your mind from the smell of his body from that same night weeks ago. You lean into this one, losing your breath and your mind fuzzing, simply because it's Komaeda. You don't know if you'll ever be able to love someone as passionately ever again, but the taste of the candy on his tongue makes your eyes go half-lidded, hungry for more.

When you pull away, the taste of the candy dances on your tongue, and you pause in thought. He's sweet. He's... sweet. Huh. He ended up with you instead of his own soulmate, huh? You furrow your brows as you remember.

Komaeda keeps your face in his hands, bottom lip jut out when you frown while in thought.

"stop kiss feeling kiss bad." Komaeda presses his lips across your face instead. "I chose you. Not the other way around."

"But it's—"

"My soulmate left me first," Komaeda sits on your lap, pushing your head to his heart, wrapping his arms around your neck. "The universe gave me a second chance with you."

"You sure?"

"Of course I am."

There's a silence that passes before a kiss is pressed to your temple.

"I always have been."

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #danganronpa x reader #☾.fics

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lunarwhisps · 2 years

Photo

But I’ve begun to heal in all the places your hands have been

( ALT TEXT below )

[ ALT TEXT : A closeup of Alex and Michael smiling as they kiss each other, Michael’s hand holding the back of Alex’s head. There is a white and bluish-green glow around them with faded out orange and red spots of light floating around them. It’s a mixture of a red, pink, blue, purple, green and orange drawing, with the most noteworthy bits of blue and green highlighting their hair. ]

#roswell new mexico #roswell nm #roswell #roswell tv show #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #Fiddle's dabbles #One of my sisters got me hooked on this show and I just sfjksdjkgjks #even though I'm just a casual watcher I Did want to draw something for these two bc I love them to death #Also I love and appreciate Michael's chaotic bi agenda KJDJSKGKJSJKLGJLK

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pedropascallme · 9 months

Note

Hi! Can you do Skwisgaar a, g, and m for sfw?

AN: FIRST SKWIS ASK LETS GOOOOOOOO

A = Affection

Skwisgaar is far from affectionate when you first meet, but once you start actually dating, he becomes much more physical. He pulls you onto his lap and plays guitar while you nuzzle up to him, holds you tight in public (and in private) and just generally shows his affection in a very physical manner. He also dabbles in acts of service—and part of you thinks that he’s treating you the way he wishes someone had shown him before, especially when he casually asks about your day or asks Jean-Pierre to bring your favorite snacks to his room.

G = Gentle

He can be harsh, emotionally. It’s not something he aims to be, but he’s very forward and it’s hard to be romantic in a language that isn’t native to him. Still, he tries his best. Physically, on the other hand, Skwisgaar is very gentle; he’s graceful in a way that nobody else really seems to be, and beyond that, he treats you tenderly, wrapping you in his long arms and stroking your skin softly. He enjoys being gentle with you, despite occasional difficulties.

M = Morning

Skwisgaar is—shockingly—usually up before you. Chalk it up to all the coffee he drinks, but he’s capable of getting up with the sun when he wants to. He keeps quiet when you’re still asleep, silently fiddling with his fingers, knowing that once he picks up his guitar it’ll be hard for him to stay silent. When you do wake up, he smothers you; immediately giving you all of his attention, thankful that you’re finally awake and ready to join him in the world of the conscious.

#metalocalypse #metalocalypse fanfic #skwisgaar skwigelf #metalocalypse skwisgaar #skwisgaar skwigelf fanfiction #skwisgaar skwigelf x you #skwisgaar x you #skwisgaar skwigelf x reader #skwisgaar x reader #hehe send me asks

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alleesaur · 9 months

Note

How did you learn to 3d model? Any tips to get started? 😤

100% of my 3d model learning is from either youtube tutorials, or fiddling around on my own time haha I recommend finding a tutorial for controls and basics, like making something simple (a doughnut is one i remember); after that find a tutorial for creating a simple rigged humanoid character. That was my starting point for blender! Most learning for me is from the dabbling around a lot in it aimlessly though so go wild! Go crazy! Turn that default cube into whatever you desire!

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Bangles and Bordeaux

Bucky x south Asian reader

A/N: Image is mine. Contemplated on leaving this piece in the drafts because its self indulgent but I hope you enjoy it. Not too many details about the reader but reader wears a sari/saree. You can skip past this if its not your thing but I hope you enjoy immersing yourself in something a little different! Please reblog, comment and like! <3

Warnings: Fluff! Word count: 4.4k

You tossed the file on the table groaning at your latest mission assignment. The issue wasn’t the mission itself; all you had to do was gather some details on a possible international weapons supplier, observe their deal with the buyer and report back. The location wasn’t far either, though Tony insisted on splurging on a luxury hotel for you and your partner to stay in, hoping it’d convince you to go. Partner. There was the problem.

You stomach churned as you fiddled with the pen in your hands wondering how you’d manage to get through an entire night with Bucky Barnes by your side. You had a hopeless crush on him, all your futile attempts to move on had crashed and burned. Your dating life had taken a dive; it felt impossible to give anyone a chance when your heart was elsewhere. It didn’t help that whenever you spoke to him, you became a shy, blushing mess. It’s not even like you were his type, you definitely didn’t look like the girls that snuck out of his room early in the morning.

“Honestly, do I have to go? Ugh, I don’t really own any gowns, how is this going to work” You looked at the dress code for the night, clearly stating you had to be in formal attire. You’d only recently started going on missions that required more than a tactical suit. Your closet desperately needed an upgrade with a few more outfit choices. You tried to give Tony your best pout but it went nowhere.

“There’s going to be people from everywhere, you won’t stand out if you’re not in a gown specifically y/n”

“But- Tony cut you off before you could finish, uninterested in any excuse you could think of.

“Look, just pack whatever formal wear you have and you’ll be fine, your cover as a couple is more important”

“Why can’t Nat or Wanda go” You huffed, you already didn’t know how to act when you passed Bucky in the kitchen, now you had to pretend to be married to him?!

“Nat is away in Bucharest, Wanda is in Sokovia and somehow I don’t think capsicle and bird brain would make a convincing couple, besides I need them here for something else” Tony rolled his eyes, at Sam’s fake offence, watching him gasp and grab his chest.

“I beg to differ; Steve and I would make a great couple” Sam grabbed Steve’s face in his hand, smushing it against his cheek, “See? Couple goals right here”

Steve shook his head, snorting “Yeah, I’m sure Nat and Wanda would be ecstatic for us to start dating behind their backs”

“Good God” Tony smacked Sam upside the head before continuing, “Moving on, that leaves you and tin man, y/n”

You let your forehead smack against the table, staying there until you heard the sound of heavy footsteps down the hall. You sat up wide eyed as Bucky entered the room, plopping down on the seat beside you to look over the assignment.

“All we have to do is watch them and report back? We both have to go?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow, confused over why this mission was even necessary and why it required two people to act like a couple. Specifically why he had to act like a couple with you; he already didn’t know how to act around you. Every time you smiled, Bucky felt his insides melt and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Sure, he was a ladies’ man years ago, but things were different now. He stayed away from dating altogether, dabbling in the occasional meaningless hook up hoping it’d distract him from his feelings for you. It did not.

“It’s for one day Buck, you guys will be fine” Steve smiled reassuringly, smirking on the inside watching his friend fidget with the papers while sitting beside you.

“I guess…” Bucky looked over at your wide eyed face, giving you a tight lipped smile before looking back at the file. “Uh, married?”

“Yup, go in, gather some info, send it back. We can’t do much until we build a better profile on the supplier, I don’t need another Mandarin incident” Tony shook his head, recalling the witch hunt they went on with minimal information, guns a blazing, only to discover Trevor Slattery cowering in a makeup room.

“Go and get your stuff ready, you guys leave in an hour!” Tony sauntered out of the door with Steve and Sam, leaving you and Bucky behind.

“Uh, I guess I’ll go pack” Bucky scratched the back of his head, glancing over at you as you picked at your chipped nail polish. Your face flushed as you nodded, getting up too quickly and stumbling onto Bucky’s lap. He caught you, your face inches from him, holding you for a moment, before letting you go.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, I should have looked at where I was going” You scrambled out of his lap, attempting to collect yourself, grabbing the file and shoving it under your arm, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

“It’s okay doll” Bucky’s cheeks turned red, the name slipping out on its own. “I mean y/n, it’s okay y/n”. Why did he bother to correct himself, idiot.

“I’m going to- I’m going to go get ready” You dashed out, running to your room, why the hell did you have the social skills of a goat.

Bucky groaned to himself, he didn’t have any issues charming women that he didn’t care about but it was different with you. When it came to you, his tongue stopped working and he was as smooth as sandpaper. Pre serum Steve was better than this.

You shut the door, hitting your head on it a few times for good measure; there was no getting out of it now. You didn’t have any gowns; the only formal events you went to required traditional clothing and you didn’t have time to go shopping now. You rummaged through your closet, shifting through your cupboard of saris, trying to find one that would work for the evening. You had a number of cotton, chiffon, georgette, pure silk and satin ones to choose from, settling on a stunning deep maroon number with the matching blouse. You grabbed a box, placing your gold bangles, a chain and earrings for the evening, along with your makeup, pins and bobby pins for your hair. You didn’t have time to pleat the sari now, quickly folding it hoping the hotel would have an iron.

Bucky paced around his room, his suit already laid out, bag packed. He wasn’t sure which idiot thought this would be a good idea, but there was no getting out of it now. He sat by the compound doors waiting for you, his breath hitching when he saw you padding down the stairs. You wore plain black leggings and an oversized sweater and somehow you were still the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. You smiled shyly at him, suddenly wondering how you’d be getting to the hotel.

“How are we getti-

“Here Frozone, don’t crash it” Tony tossed his Audi R8 keys to Bucky, having pulled the car to the front. Bucky stared wide eyed at Tony, not realizing he’d be driving with you by his side. Before you could say anything, Bucky took your bags, placing them in the back and opening your side of the door. You blushed, mumbling a quiet thank you before getting in.

Steve, Tony and Sam smirked peeking from the window watching you both leave the compound.

“So, you think it’ll work?” Steve quirked an eyebrow, wondering if his friend would catch on the actual mission you were both being sent on.

“They’ve been tiptoeing around each other for months, blushing and smiling all the damn time, I feel like I’m in a romcom with those two in the same room. Idiots” Sam shook his head, grinning as the car pulled away.

“For an ex assassin, you’d think he’d be more trained in reading body language to know she has a huge crush on him” Tony sighed to himself. “Scary stealthy Winter Soldier my ass”

“Wasn’t he a ladies’ man?” Sam didn’t understand how Bucky had zero issues talking to women he’d never met before, only to fumble the second you were near him.

“He was! He still is! He’s just…apprehensive…?” Steve really wanted to defend his friend but he couldn’t think of a valid excuse. You were kind and sweet; Bucky liked you just as much, you both just needed a little…encouragement.

“He’s apprehensive over a walking talking cotton ball?”

Steve and Sam stared at Tony. “Cotton ball?”

“Yeah, y/n, small, soft, non threatening, everything tin man shouldn’t be so scared of”

***

The car ride to the hotel was silent, aside from your raging heart beat you were sure Bucky could hear with his super soldier hearing. He did. What you didn’t know was his heart was racing twice as fast, driving as carefully as he could with you by his side. You both checked in and made your way up to the suite, courtesy of Tony who was happy to get you one room.

Of course the room was beautiful. It had everything you needed and more. There was one thing though. You both stared at the very large comfy looking elephant in the room; a single king sized bed that sat in the middle of the huge space. It was easily big enough for the both of you to share but it still meant sleeping in the same bed. You set your bags down, deciding sleeping arrangements would have to wait with only an hour left till you both had to be ready. Lucky for you, the event you had to attend was in the grand hall of the hotel you were staying in.

“Uh, I guess we should start getting ready”, Bucky laid his suit out, looking over at you realizing you didn’t bring a long garment bag like what Nat and Wanda usually had when they had to bring gowns to change into.

“Where’s your dress doll?” There it was again. God he couldn’t help it, doll suited you perfectly. You smiled at the name he had for you, your face heating up as he stripped his Henley off, putting on the crisp black shirt he laid out.

“Oh, um, I didn’t have a dress; I just brought what I had”

You set your bag on the bed, pulling out the neatly folded sari and blouse, popping open a few pins before you started pleating. Bucky watched you quizzically as you spread out the long fabric, picking up a corner and folding it. He adored the way your brows knitted together in concentration as you readjusted the sari pleats to make sure they aligned perfectly. You started pinning the perfect folds, standing in front of the mirror to make it fell over your shoulder and below the back of your knee. Your eyes met with his in the mirrors reflection as he watched you with heart eyes but you figured he was waiting for you to move.

“Sorry Bucky, it’ll just take me a few extra minutes to get ready, I’m almost done with this, and you can use the mirror soon”

“No, no, don’t apologize doll, I just…I haven’t seen that before” Bucky smiled at you softly. He was still new to the modern world; he didn’t get to see or experience different cultures when he was younger and it wasn’t a privilege he had when he was the winter soldier. He rarely had time to learn and experience new things aside from his time in Wakanda.

You blushed, placing your outfit on the bed and getting your jewelry for the night, heating up the iron to run over your pleats before draping the sari.

Bucky slipped into the bathroom to finish getting ready, deciding to keep the light stubble that covered his cheeks instead of shaving it. He grinned to himself remembering a conversation he overheard where you told Wanda his scruffy face was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. He was ready within minutes, hearing the very loud gasp you let out as he walked over to where you were doing your makeup.

“You look so ho- I mean really sex-…very handsome. You look very handsome” Wow y/n. So smooth.

You felt like you lost 3 years of your life mustering the courage to say that; this man in an all black suit was going to be the absolute death of you. Bucky blinked at you, his heart in his throat watching you as you sat at the vanity in a fluffy robe, a few rollers in your hair and your makeup mostly done. You were applying a tiny bit of gloss to your lips to complete your look; dark smoky eyes with lipstick that matched the sari. It complimented you skin tone beautifully.

“Oh, th-thank you doll” Bucky’s face flushed, as he gazed shyly at the ground. He would give anything to be like this with you every single day. The moment felt so intimate, your long black hair pinned in the rollers, getting ready together, watching you do your makeup while you sat in a comfy robe. Of course he had to muster the courage to talk to you properly first but a man can dream. You looked at the time, realizing the event would start soon but you’d still need a few minutes to finish getting dressed.

“I’m so sorry Bucky, I’ll be ready soon. You can get our names checked in for the guest list; I can meet you downstairs as soon as I’m ready”

Bucky nodded, though he was completely ready to skip the entire evening just to spend some time alone with you. He was starting to feel a little more at ease without Sam or Tony breathing down his back about having to put himself out there.

“Take your time doll, don’t rush, I’ll see you downstairs” He gave you a sweet smile before shutting the door, his body buzzing with anticipation over playing your husband for the night.

You hung the robe to the side, quickly hooking on your blouse and tying on your skirt. You stood in front of the mirror with the sari, tucking in the material, wrapping it around yourself and adjusting where you wanted it to fall behind you. The satin material easily fell into place as you pinned it on your shoulder. You tucked the front pleats in, placing a few pins in the front to keep the folds in place. You slipped on your bangles, earrings and necklace, doing a quick twirl in the mirror and fixing your hair before heading downstairs.

You fidgeted with your bangle in the elevator, butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach as you got closer to the lobby. You were already nervous about having to pretend to be Bucky’s wife (you definitely dreamt about it), but you also worried you’d stand out. What if he felt uncomfortable around you, especially because you were dressed differently? The ding of the elevator doors opening broke you out of your thoughts because the train wreck could go any further.

Your eyes scanned the ball room that was buzzing with guests, searching for your pretend husband for the night. You plucked a glass of red wine from a waiter that passed by, hoping to ease some of your raging nerves. Your eyes locked with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes you always got lost in across the room, your heart racing, fuck how would you be able to focus on a mission.

Bucky stood by the bar, his jaw dropping as you walked in. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The beautiful satin material was perfectly draped around your body, accenting the curves he’d never seen before. His mouth hung open as you made your way towards him. Your long dark hair was pinned to the side, giving him a perfect view of your jaw. The gold jewelry you wore made your skin glow; your sultry makeup brought everything together perfectly. You looked like a goddess.

“Holy shit…”

His breath hitched when your lips darted out, catching a drop of the dark red wine that stained your lips, he was screwed.

“You look…” He was utterly speechless, his mouth opening and closing, remembering you were now his wife for the night. He would have been just as speechless even if you really were married. Screw the mission, he had a new mission in mind; to make you his. At least, muster up the courage to ask you on a date.

Bucky placed his arm around you, his metal hand resting against your bare skin of your exposed waist making you shiver. He placed a gentle kiss on your jaw, pulling you closer to him.

“My wife is the most beautiful person in this room without a doubt”

Your face heated up, leaning into him, standing on your tippy toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek. The scent of his cologne made your heart flutter; you wanted to burry your face in his chest and breathe him in all night.

“Could say the same about you, you look so handsome baby” Your hand caressed the scruff on his cheek; Bucky leaned into your touch, blushing.

“Shall we go sit?” His hand found yours, making your way through the crowd, a number of eyes falling on the both of you. You tensed for a moment, relaxing when you felt his lips press a soft kiss against the back of your head, his hand wrapping protectively around your waist.

“I told you, you look gorgeous. Everyone’s eyes are on you babydoll”

“Or they’re on you; I’ve always loved how you looked in all black with some stubble”

Bucky grinned, pleased with his choice to not shave for the night. You giggled, finding an empty table near the back of the hall which also gave you a good vantage point to see everyone.

You spotted your target at one of the tables not too far from you; a middle aged man with curly greying hair and a beard. Ulysses Klaue. He sat surrounded by a few of his men, taking a long swing from his glass before getting up and making his way over to a different table.

“All we have to do is sit here and watch what he does?” Bucky still couldn’t get over the fact that you’d both been sent over to essentially people watch. Tony could have bugged the place and watched from the compound if he really wanted to but at this point he wasn’t complaining.

“Mhm, that’s what the file said” You took another sip of your wine, the Merlot easing some of your nerves. You both sat in comfortable silence watching Klaue though he actually hadn’t done much aside from make an ass of himself, groping a woman as she walked by, earning a slap to the head. That didn’t seem to bother him much either, grinning proudly as he attempted to paw at someone else.

“What the hell do we even write about this man, that he has a weakness for women” You huffed, freezing as the man locked eyes with you, licking his lips as he got out of his seat, stalking towards you. “Shit”

“Quite the exotic little piece of arm candy you got there” Klaue grinned at you, unbothered by Bucky’s death stare as his arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. “Names Ulysses Klaue”

He extended his hand towards you but Bucky shook it instead, his grip firmer than usual.

“Terrance O’Conner. This is my wife, Ava” You felt Bucky’s hand slip under the material of your sari, his fingers tracing soft circles onto your skin, relaxing you.

“Well aren’t you a lucky man Mr. O’Conner” Klaue’s eyes continued to wrack up and down your body, “Gorgeous little thing dipped in gold and wrapped in satin” Before he could continue, one of his men approached him, whispering in his ear. Klaue reluctantly backed away, whispering something to one of his men before exiting from a door near the bar.

“Should we follow them?”

Bucky shook his head, “Tony said only document what he does here, and if we follow them then he’ll get suspicious”

You nodded, noticing some of the tables had cleared as most people had began to make their way to the dance floor. The lights dimmed, couples joining together, swaying slowly to the music. You looked longingly at the happy couples, smiling as you imagined yourself with Bucky, unconsciously leaning into him.

“May I have this dance?”

You sat up, unsure if you actually heard those words as Bucky stood up, extending his hand for you to take. You nodded, smiling shyly, letting him lead you to the middle of dance floor. He spun you, pulling you towards him, grinning as your arms slung around his shoulders, your head resting against his chest. You leaned into him as he put his arms around you, his lips brushing by your ear, as he whispered.

“You really do look gorgeous y/n”

“You should see yourself, Mr. O’Conner” you giggled, adoring the way Bucky’s nose scrunched, grinning down at you, his cheeks flushed as he held you close. You spent the rest of the night, wrapped in each other, swaying to the music, walking hand in hand back to your room as the evening came to an end.

Bucky sat on the bed with the laptop, typing out the mission report, documenting the sparse details they were able to gather for the night. He huffed in frustration, unable to stop sneaking glances at you while you started to unpin your sari in front of the large mirror. His mind wandered again, the way this moment felt intimate, like something he’d have if you were actually his. Watching you get dressed, watching you go through your night time routine, he wanted it all.

“Bucky could you…please?” You fumbled with the pins on the back of your blouse, struggling to take one that you’d placed on the back of your shoulder.

“Of course” Bucky got up, hesitating for a moment before slipping his fingers under the material, quickly undoing the pin, his hands lingering on your soft skin for a moment. Your eyes met in the mirror reflection; Bucky could feel the warmth radiating off you and hear the way your heart rate picked up.

“I-I’m just going to…” Buck nodded as you clutched the material to your chest to keep it from slipping, making your way to the bathroom to change. You removed your makeup and folded your clothes, slipping on an over sized t-shirt to sleep in.

Bucky sat at the edge of the bed, having changed into some sweats, finishing up the mission report. You nervously sat on the other side, carefully slipping under the covers, making sure there was space between you both.

“I can sleep on the floor doll, you can have the bed” Bucky started to get up, until he felt your hand grab his wrist, stopping him.

“No! Stay…” You looked at him with a soft smile, hoping he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, “I don’t mind, really” Bucky couldn’t hide the shy smile that crept on his face as he closed the laptop, getting under the covers with you. You both laid in comfortable silence for a while, slowly adjusting yourselves to be more comfortable while inching closer to each other. You felt his hand brush against yours as you let you hand intertwine with his.

“I had a lot of fun tonight…with you” You’re voice was hardly above a whisper and if it wasn’t for his super soldier hearing, he would have missed it.

“Me too doll” Bucky turned on his side to face you, now or never Barnes.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you’d want to actually go out sometime, maybe dinner, or coffee or um-

You cut off Bucky’s rambling, pressing your lips onto his. Bucky froze for a moment, smiling into the kiss, pulling you closer to him.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

You grinned, nodding as your forehead rested on his, melting into his embrace, the both of you falling asleep wrapped in each other’s warmth.

You arrived at the compound, hand in hand, confused over the howling and whistles you heard as you entered the living room.

“Pay up, I told you!” Tony had a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he saw your hand in Bucky’s.

Steve and Sam groaned, pulling out fifty dollars each, reluctantly handing it over.

“I told you it would work”

“Told who what would work?” Bucky plopped down on the sofa, still holding your hand as you sat beside him, equally confused.

“That this mission would bring you love birds together” Sam grinned, adding air quotes around the word mission.

“Why are you saying mission like that” Your eyes narrowed as you looked at the 3 men across from you giggling together like school children.

“C’mon, you didn’t pick up on the real reason we sent you two away when I could have just bugged the place for info” Tony smirked, extremely proud of himself. “Which I already did by the way”

“Then why the hell did-” Bucky shook his head, utterly confused “By the way, the target didn’t do a damn thing other than paw at people all night before getting called away” Bucky scoffed, secretly relieved he didn’t actually have to do much because he was able to give you all his attention.

“You can thank me for that; we managed to get him out and away from you guys. You both looked so cozy, we decided to intervene. Didn’t want him to ruin the real reason we sent you both out for the night”

“Were you watching the entire time?!” You sat up, scoffing while Tony sat back with a smug expression his face.

“Look, you both needed a push to actually talk to each other; we figured a night together wouldn’t be a bad idea. Playing husband and wife meant you had to actually get close to each other” Steve explained, making his way out of the living room, signaling for the other two to follow. “We’ll leave you two alone now”

Sam snorted, wiggling his eyebrows as you hid your face in Bucky’s arm, unable to hide the blush that spread across your cheeks.

“I can’t believe they did that” Your voice was muffled as you continued to hide in Bucky’s arm, feeling his cool hand pull your face close to his, pecking a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Was worth it, my stunning satin wrapped doll”

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