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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

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go for it! ; yuuta okkotsu

synopsis; yuuta’s been crushing on you ever since the first group project you had together, but he’s too nervous to confess. luckily, he has some over-eager friends willing to help! step 1: ask for your number!

word count; 7.4k

contents; yuuta okkotsu/reader, gn!reader, university au, yuuta majors in creative writing and writes poetry in his spare time <3, no curses au, yuuta is a cutiepie, he’s also a loserboy, pining and longing, one-sided love, maki inumaki and panda are wingmen (but not very good ones), fluffy vibes, gojo makes a guest appearance (stay safe), literally just yuuta being whipped for like 7k words straight

a/n; im gonna have to edit this a lot i think….. but for now it should be fine :3 i love the boy!!

”you’re staring. again.”

yuuta flinches. a jolt overtakes him, running through his body, and the pen he’d been absently writing with slips from his fingers. it tumbles down to the ground with a soft thunk.

gazing up at the shadow towering over him, his eyes are wide, a little flustered; like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. like he’s expecting a smack on the head from the person in front of him.

— it’s maki.

and she looks displeased, lips pursed and a single eyebrow raised. unimpressed, as she stares him down — the same way he’d been looking at you just a second ago.

”they’re gonna think you’re a creep if they catch you, you know,” she sighs, shifting from one foot to another. carrying her bass in a case on her back.

”maki, c’mon,” comes from behind her, an even larger figure strolling up to the pair. grinning brightly, fluffy hair tousled by the afternoon breeze. ”cut him some slack!”

”salmon,” a third voice joins in. inumaki’s got some green paint staining the sleeve of his hoodie, and his fingers are dirtied with charcoal.

his closest friends, all joining him on the table they usually frequent on campus. right next to a giant tree, casting a pleasantly cool shade and obscuring the irritating brightness of the sun.

maki, headstrong and resilient. infamously rude. a music major, primarily, though yuuta knows she has more than a couple minors. if you pay attention, you can see her almost everywhere on campus, and she always does well on exams. confident, enough so that just being around her makes yuuta feel a little more secure in himself.

panda, a big kid with a big heart, always wearing monochrome clothes. ‘panda’ can’t possibly be his real name, though yuuta’s never found the courage to ask. truthfully, he isn’t sure panda even has a major, or goes to this university at all — but nobody’s mentioned it yet, and he doubts they ever will.

and then inumaki, the quiet kid, always helpful and kind. a little teasing, too. selectively mute, speaking exclusively in rice ball ingredients, but yuuta has already begun adjusting to the thought behind his phrases. an art student with remarkable talent, from sculptures to comics to paintings. he mostly spends his lectures playing games on his phone, though. and he's the kindest guy yuuta knows.

his beloved friends. the reason he can smile through each day, even when it’s a little difficult.

and maki’s right, he knows she is. if you were to lock eyes with him, and realize he’d been glancing over at you for the past ten minutes… god, he doesn’t even want to think about it. you’d be weirded out for sure, wouldn’t you?

but yuuta just can’t help it. you’re far too radiant to ever look away from, smile much too pretty.

you’re just sitting there, laughing and talking with your friends, the same as any other day. comparing hand sizes with miwa, or leaning over to whisper in mai’s ear. snorting over something momo said, or trying to understand the code kokochi’s fiddling with on his laptop. just being yourself, with people you’re close to.

and yuuta desperately wishes he could be among them. wishes he could see your honeyed smile up close, hear the melodic lilt of your laughter, breathe in the lingering scent of your shampoo. he wishes he could speak to you without stuttering, without tripping over his feet — hang out with you outside of class. just something small, like studying together, or grabbing a bite to eat.

he wishes he could get to know you.

yuuta thinks he must seem like a fool, to be so affected by your mere presence. everything comes to him so easily, when he looks at you; the pitter patter of his heart, his sweaty hands, the whirlwind of butterflies swirling in his chest. even just the way you twirl your hair or chew on your pencil is so mesmerizing.

so all he can do is stare, hopeless, a moth to a flame. basking in the warmth of your gaze, directed at your friends.

hoping one day, maybe… that warmth will fall upon him, as well.

(maybe one day.)

”hellooo? earth to yuuta!”

”see? he’s hopeless.”

”mentaiko…”

”inumaki’s right. he’s a man in love!”

”he’s a boy with a stupid crush,” maki scoffs, picking at a piece of lint on her tank top. ”and we have a study session we need to get done. the exam’s next week, remember?”

exam.

yuuta shoots up, wasting no time in grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. the ring hanging around his neck dangles with the sudden movement, and he clutches onto it.

”ah — right!” he squeaks, apologetic. ”sorry, it completely slipped my mind —”

before his mind can begin to overthink every action he’s taken these past few hours, a hand reaches out to pat his shoulder. pat, pat. reassuring and stabilizing.

inumaki smiles at him. yuuta can’t see his mouth, from behind the fabric of his hoodie, but his eyes crinkle softly; and it’s enough to put yuuta’s heart at ease.

”don’t apologize,” maki says. simple, straightforward. ”let’s just get going. i need to do better than naoya did last time.”

”you’re still mad about that, huh?”

”he only got a higher score because i wasn’t on top of my game,” she grumbles, digging her nails into the pockets of her baseball jacket. ”he doesn’t even like music. he’s just taking the course to piss me off. grown ass man.”

a chuckle slips from yuuta’s lips. the warm breeze ruffles his hair, and he holds onto the strap of his backpack, following closely behind as his friends begin to leave. sending one final glance at your figure, over by a table near the apricot trees.

and that’s when it happens.

— he looks over at you, and finds that your eyes are already on him.

a moment passes.

while yuuta struggles to find his breathing, your lips curl up into a soft smile. then you raise your hand, waving to him cheerily, teeth peeking out from between your lips. he can see it clearly, even with the distance between you.

a smile that glimmers like a jewel, in the light of the sun.

yuuta feels his lips part, mouth falling open ever so slightly. but he waves back, afraid to take too long, unable to stop the pounding of his heartbeat — smiling giddily, like a schoolgirl tripping over her feet.

his friends just watch, wholly unimpressed.

”do you think he’d notice if i threw a rock at him?”

”maki!”

”what do you like about them, anyway?”

the question is unexpected. yuuta has to do a double take, eyes straying from his excerpt of sappho 31 up to the person seated across from him. tapping her pencil on the edge of the table, resting her sharp jaw on the heel of her palm.

”huh?”

”them. your crush,” maki reiterates. ”what caught your attention? there’s got to be something, yeah?”

”oh?” panda chirps, leaning back in his chair. a teasing grin playing at his lips. “i thought you didn’t care about his silly little crush.”

”i don’t.” a huff pushes past her lips, hands reaching to fix her lazy ponytail, hair tie dangling from between her teeth. ”i’m just bored. i already know all this, anyway.”

”tuna mayo.”

”oh, are you curious too, inumaki?”

”well, out with it. why them?”

yuuta blinks. once, then twice — mind spinning in circles, as his friends await his answer.

and, truthfully, yuuta can’t pinpoint the exact moment he felt it. that burst of joy, that tinge of excitement — the puppy love that rika always spoke of. she was always good at verbalizing her emotions, in a way yuuta never could.

(he always knew he loved her, but he could never put it into words.)

and he knows that he likes you. he knows because every word you speak has him stumbling over what to say, because even a single smile sent his way makes the world feel so gentle. he knows because he’d probably throw himself into incoming traffic, if you just asked him to.

but he can’t put it into words. not spoken ones, anyhow — putting them on paper is one thing, the one thing he can do. writing out his love for you in similes and metaphors, sonettes and alexandrines. it’s how he copes with everything; writing and writing, til his fingers start to hurt. he can compare you to a dandelion, to the way cicadas buzz in the light of the sun. the scent of childhood. but it’s harder to speak it out loud, to turn the feelings into sounds — that’s maki’s specialty, not his.

why does yuuta like you?

he remembers it clear as day, but still can’t pinpoint the exact second he fell headfirst into love. it was more of a creeping realization, something soft and sweet trickling through his veins. that sinking feeling, how helplessly he fell for you.

it all started with a pencil.

in hindsight, it’s a little silly. but yuuta can’t bring himself to think back to that moment with anything other than fondness.

(your smile was just so bright.)

that day had been a disaster. he was nervous, painfully so, afraid of every single new thing he came across during his first week of uni. scatterbrained, running on almost no sleep, unsure of where to put his feet as he walked.

honestly — what kind of trainwreck forgets their pen and notebook during their very first workshop?

all that anxiety, all those hours spent overthinking, and he still couldn’t manage something so small. in the moment, he almost panicked; sitting with you, a total stranger, wholly unprepared for such a simple assignment. read a couple excerpts, analyze them on paper. all yuuta could do was stare blankly at his lap, frozen, throat dry. hands cold with sweat.

but then you smiled.

”did you forget your notebook?” you had asked, voice set to a soothing tilt. calm, not angry or impatient.

”ah — yeah, i, um…” yuuta could only swallow thickly, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. ”i’m sorry. i haven't been sleeping well, so —”

”hey, hey, it’s fine!” you chuckled, teeth peeking out from between your lips. ”i totally get it. i almost forgot my laptop at yesterday’s lecture. we can just share!”

then you pushed your notebook closer to him, inviting him in. moving your chair a little, angling it towards him. but all yuuta could think of was how pretty your smile looked, how kind your presence felt.

”here you go,” you grinned, snapping him out of his trance. ”you can use this.”

a pencil. yuuta took it from your opened palm, gazing at it in wonder. an orange-coloured, halloween-themed pumpkin design. completely out of season. the tiny pumpkin was cute, though.

such a casual kindness. but maybe that's exactly why it made his heart flutter so deeply; as if you did it without even really thinking. as if kindness comes easy, to you.

that’s probably how it began. by the time the workshop ended, yuuta knew that he liked you, and he knew that he wanted nothing more than to be your friend.

(subconsciously, his fingers tap at the zipper of his backpack. the pumpkin pen is still with him, after you waved him off with a smooth you can keep it, if you want. yuuta has found that he always writes best when he uses it.)

”well?”

maki’s voice snaps him out of his trip down memory lane, and he stumbles for something to say. what does he like about you?

squirming, yuuta feels his face heat up, as he thinks of you. all he can see is your smile, the kindness in the tilt of your voice. the brightness of the grin you sent his way. warm and saccharine, like the sun peeking out after a downpour — when the streets smell like honeydew and rain.

”they’re just… so cool,” he finally sighs, a dreamy look smoothing over his face. ”they’re so nice. and their smile is so beautiful. they’re so smart, too — god, you should see the way they write — everything about them is just…”

yuuta blushes a deep red, smiling even still. lovesick. ”.. so, so wonderful.”

maki freezes in the midst of the tapping of her pencil. panda stops kicking at the foot of the table. and inumaki looks away from his phone, messing up his full combo.

a moment of silence passes. the study hall grows quiet, and yuuta looks down at his lap; suddenly embarrassed. sipping from his little carton of apple juice.

”hey…” panda starts, delicate. somehow, yuuta dreads the teasing edge to his voice. ”have you thought about confessing to them, yuuta?”

”what?” the boy in question squeaks, choking on his juice. ”no, of course not!”

”why?” maki deadpans. popping a chip into her mouth. ”you’re head over heels, right? might as well do something about it.”

inumaki hums. affirmative.

”i… don’t know,” yuuta sighs. a heavy breath, a little wobbly. meek. ”they’d just reject me, wouldn’t they? i mean…”

(you’re totally out of his league. right?)

maki scoffs, sitting up a little straighter. there’s an angered kind of affection in her eyes. ”you’re just deciding that all on your own. how would you know how they feel?”

the gaze she sends his way is intense. it always has been. there’s a kindness to it, though, something that makes yuuta want to look her in the eye — but he can’t, eyes still locked on his hands, resting in his lap. ”… still,” he manages a weak smile, somewhat sheepish. ”even if i wanted to, there’s no way i could. i’m too much of a coward.”

…

maki slams her textbook shut. the sound is sudden, loud. yuuta flinches, and a wince leaves inumaki’s lips. panda just watches her, snacking on some chips, a mild curiousity simmering in his eyes.

the girl in question gets up from her seat, grabbing her bass case and throwing it over her shoulder. then she looks at yuuta, eyes full of decision.

”— well, lucky for you, we’ve got some time to spare.”

a blink. yuuta gazes up at the girl in front of him, tilting his head in confusion.

maki sighs. exasperated. ”i’m saying we’ll help you. don’t look so resigned, dumbass.”

at that, panda gets up too — suddenly excited. ”are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

she just huffs, smiling even still. ”probably not. but let’s hear it.”

the grin on his face widens. he scribbles something down in his notebook, showing off the writing proudly. ”operation: get yuuta to confess is about to commence!”

inumaki turns off his phone. sitting up straight, arms decisively crossed, a strangely serious expression on his face. completely invested.

”wait — wait!” yuuta stutters, eyes wide with flustered shock. ”don’t i get a say in this?”

”of course not.”

”nope!”

”bonito flakes.”

”b… but —”

”alright, so here’s what i’m thinking,” panda begins, writing down unintelligible notes on the pages of his tattered notebook. ”we need to start small. we don’t want yuuta getting heart palpitations and fainting in the middle of campus, so —”

”tuna mayo?”

”yeah, that’s perfect! hang on, lemme just…”

”let me see. i don’t want you messing this up.”

yuuta’s voice comes out tiny, as it falls from his lips. more of a squeaky breath. ”guys, i really — you don’t need to —”

panda continues to scribble in the notebook, engrossed, arm hanging off maki’s shoulder as they go over the contents. inumaki nods along, walking over to them with lazy steps. yuuta’s protests go unnoticed, and all he can do is watch them mutter under their breaths.

”— okay. listen up, yuuta.”

he raises his head, and meets maki’s sharp eyes. she’s smiling, strolling over to place the notebook right in front of him. ”here’s how this is gonna go.”

yuuta looks down.

everything is written out with a pink sharpie, glittery and pretty. there are little hearts doodled out across the pages, and he can tell exactly which ones were drawn by who. all of them look messy, with the exception of inumaki’s perfect little shapes.

and there, right in the middle, lies a line of text.

panda reads it out, voice loud and cheery, while maki and inumaki stick close. all smiling, as a chill crawls down yuuta’s spine.

”step 1: ask for their number!”

plan a

”okay, so… what am i supposed to do, exactly?”

panda throws an arm over yuuta’s shoulder, and he’s enveloped by the scent of fresh sunlight. the weight is heavy, a comfort. ”we’re going with my plan first! it’s the best one, so don’t worry.”

”i don’t know about that,” maki scoffs. ”we can’t ask mai. best case scenario, she’ll laugh at us a little and say no.”

inumaki hums. he rips out a part of the notebook he’s been tasked with carrying, doodling a little face and showing it to the rest of his friends.

yuuta leans in close. it’s a cute doodle, charming. and he can tell who it’s supposed to depict. miwa kasumi.

”yeah, she’s our best bet,” maki sighs, brushing some specks of dust off her jeans. ”she seems like the nicest one in that group.”

yuuta tilts his head, brows furrowed in confusion. he plays with the ring hanging around his neck, a nervous tick he’s never managed to get rid of. ”wait, so…” he trails off, unsure. ”what are we doing, exactly?”

panda tugs him closer, a friendly smile on his face. ”we’re going to their friends for help!” he beams. ”that’ll be easier for you, right?”

a blink. yuuta gazes into the eyes of his friend, something soft blooming in his eyes.

they can be a chaotic bunch — but they’re still so considerate. considerate enough to know asking for your number straight out would be too much for him. considerate enough to think of his comfort, in a way no one else has bothered to before.

(faced with such immense understanding, such genuine friendship, how could he ever bear to let them down?)

”… alright,” yuuta gulps, clutching his ring as if to give him courage. managing a smile. ”let’s do this, then!”

with newfound determination, the four of them seek out miwa kasumi. it doesn’t take too long — she’s studying, going over legal codes in the library, eyes narrowed in concentration. and she isn’t alone.

”hey, miwa. muta.”

the pair look up from their respective textbooks and laptop, meeting the gaze of a certain maki zenin, waltzing over to their table. miwa smiles, but kokichi doesn’t say anything.

”hi, maki! how are you?”

”i’m good,” she answers, straight to the point; but her eyes soften a little. then she gestures towards yuuta with a tilt of her head. ”sorry, but this guy needs your help.”

”hm?” miwa shifts in her seat, meeting yuuta’s nervous gaze, as he steps forward. ”ah, you’re… okkotsu, right?”

”ah, yeah! sorry for interrupting you two…”

”no, no! please, don’t worry about it,” she grins. sweet and soft, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. ”we don't mind. right?”

kokichi still doesn’t say anything. but he nods, when miwa meets his eyes — and yuuta notices that they seem a lot softer when she does.

”so, here’s how it is…”

panda explains the situation to the pair. yuuta looks down at the floor, face flushed as he shifts from foot to foot. by the time he’s finished, miwa looks wholly invested, and kokichi looks a little less like all he wants is for them to leave him and miwa be.

”awww, that’s so sweet!!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. eyes glimmering with excitement.

”right,” maki hums. already a little impatient. ”so, basically — we need their number.”

”… ah. well, um —” miwa trails off, averting her gaze. she looks over at kokichi, but he only shrugs, going back to his coding. ”see, here’s the thing…”

with an apologetic look in her eyes, she turns to yuuta. ”i support you 100% — but i dunno if it’d feel right to just… give away their number like that, you know?” she mumbles, sheepishly. ”i think you should ask them, yourself. that’d be way more romantic!”

”yeah, but that’s a tall hurdle for a socially anxious guy…” panda mutters, patting yuuta’s back.

”still! i’m sure they’d appreciate you being direct.” miwa closes her eyes, a dreamy expression painted on her face. ”i’d be elated if someone asked for my number like that!! all stuttering and shy… it’d be so cute!”

(if anyone notices kokichi stiffening beside her, they don’t mention it.)

maki sighs, resigned. ”well, i don’t think we’re getting any numbers here. good. what kind of creep just texts someone out of nowhere, anyway?”

”i thought it was a good plan!” panda protests, pouting a little. maki shoots him a look.

”it was an awful plan. what were you planning to say? hey, i forced your friend to give me your number, but would you want to hang out sometime?” she crosses her arms with a sharp scoff. ”i’d beat your ass!”

panda grumbles a little under his breath, but doesn’t say anything.

”sorry i couldn’t be of more help,” miwa mumbles, sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. ”good luck, though! i hope they say yes!”

”thanks, miwa,” yuuta smiles, already in the process of being tugged away by his friends. ”i really appreciate it!”

plan a

plan b

”alright, inumaki’s turn. what’s your take on the situation, mister?”

the boy in question sits up straight, back resting against a tree trunk. he writes something down, and yuuta waits, patiently — absentmindedly staring at the white petals of the apricot trees on campus. pure, fleeting, sweet blossoms unfurling before him.

when he’s finished, inumaki presents the page to yuuta, and everyone gathers round. reading the writing, eyes trailing over his little doodles. panda grins, and maki strokes her chin in contemplation.

”you’re a genius, inu!”

”well, it’s probably the easiest way to go about it…”

yuuta purses his lips. it’s a good plan, he thinks; writing out a note, and passing it to you in the middle of class. that way, he won’t have to turn his feelings into sounds, won’t have to speak them out loud. there’s a safety to it, the trickling of ink across blank papers. one that’s never failed him.

”… that should work,” he mumbles, and inumaki visibly brightens. ”what am i supposed to write, though?”

”just be straightforward.”

”not seconded!” panda huffs, crossing his legs. ”you need to be dramatic. heartfelt. that’ll catch their attention!” he stops to think for a moment, a hum buzzing loudly in his throat. ”hey — why not write them a love poem? put those skills to good use!”

”a love poem?” yuuta squeaks, a slight heat rising to the tips of his ears. ”there’s no way i could do that! and i’m not skilled, i —”

a pause. yuuta bites his lip.

”… it’d just be embarrassing,” he finally mutters, playing with his ring.

(he wonders what rika would think, if she were here. what she’d advise him to do — would she like the love poem idea? probably.)

”well, you could at least try. who knows, maybe they’ll like it,” maki attempts to reassure him, chewing at a piece of gum. ”if they’re anything like miwa, it’ll be easy.”

gnawing at his bottom lip, yuuta emits an anxious hum. deep in thought. maybe you would like it, but… what if you just think it’s cheesy?

maki observes him, intently. listening to the emotions behind his silence. tapping the pads of her fingers on her knee, in a rhythmic motion. ”… at least try writing something out,” she says. ”if you can’t think of anything, then just copy some random old guy. what was his name, uh — catallas? or something?”

yuuta’s gaze snaps up, eyes gone wide. ”catullus?” he gapes, in disbelief. ”are you insane? do you even know what kind of poems he wrote?”

maki shoots him a confused look, and a tilt of her head. ”isn’t he the ’give me a thousand kisses’ guy?”

”he is, but that’s —” a sigh, exasperated. flustered, as it flows from his parted lips. then he shakes his head. ”nevermind. it doesn’t matter.”

”tuna…” inumaki mumbles, nudging yuuta’s shoulder with his head. a silent encouragement. and even with no words, yuuta knows what he’s trying to say.

just be yourself. this is your specialty, right?

write from your heart.

”inumaki…” yuuta meets his gaze, and is met with a pair of warm eyes. a friendly punch meets his shoulder, soft and delicate. kind.

”… alright. i’ll write it!”

”that’s the spirit!” panda grins. ”just give it to them during tomorrow’s lecture.”

”yeah,” yuuta nods, mustering the courage to smile. ”i will!”

when yuuta gets home that night, he makes himself a cup of coffee with too much sugar, and gets ready to write.

he listens to maki’s acoustic guitar covers through his headphones, curled up with the fluffy blanket panda gave him, and munches on a hastily made onigiri to give himself much-needed energy.

(writing with a certain pumpkin-themed pencil, basking in the scratching of lead against blank pages.)

his hands are shaking.

it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. that nervous shiver of his bones, the rattling of his skeleton. you’re sitting right next to him, so close he can smell the shampoo you use, the mint off your breath —

and yuuta can’t seem to hand you the note.

he spent all last night writing it. putting every single little drop of his love into every single little word. but that fear of rejection still remains, rendering him useless, unable to act.

you’re listening to the lecture, but only halfheartedly, absentmindedly doodling in your notebook. out of boredom, he assumes.

it’s the perfect moment to strike.

yuuta’s hands are shaking, and his heartbeat is stuttering, crawling up his throat. he takes a sip of water, hoping it’ll make the dry sensation go away, but it doesn’t work.

(just be yourself.)

with a deep intake of breath, he pushes the note over to you — not daring to look your way.

his eyes remain glued on the laptop screen in front of him, but he hears you pick it up, hears the rustling of paper as you unfold it. his heart echoes with a similar rhythm, unstable, borderline erratic. the rest of the lecture passes by slowly, minute by minute, at an agonizing pace.

when it finally ends, yuuta has to restrain the urge to run away — turning towards you slowly, hesitantly, as if just the sight of you could blind him if he isn’t careful. but you’re already looking at him. and you’re smiling.

”that was so good, yuuta!”

….

huh?

”sorry, but i honestly don’t have any feedback,” you mumble, eyes trailing over the note again. ”i like it a lot. i didn’t know you wrote poetry!”

”… ah.” yuuta stumbles for something to say. staring into your eyes, blankly. dumbly. ”t.. thank you! i’m glad you liked it.”

with a brief shake of your head, you smile, and something sickly sweet unfurls in his chest. ”not at all. thanks for letting me read it! i’m sorry i can’t really help you improve…”

mentally, yuuta falls to his knees. places his palms on the floor and dry heaves, clutching his heart. did you not get it? was he not clear enough? he wrote it with you in mind, so —

”maybe you could show it to professor nanami?” you suggest, unaware of the turmoil within the boy to your right. ”i'm sure he’ll be a great help! he can seem a bit intimidating, but he’s nice.”

”.. yeah,” yuuta smiles, weakly. ”i’ll do that. thanks again.”

for a moment, he isn’t even upset. because you flash him another bright smile, and suddenly, even the frustration of yet another setback doesn’t feel so awful.

(maybe it’s fine, he thinks. maybe this is enough; speaking to you, getting to see your smile up close. maybe he doesn’t need anything else, after all.)

”so?” maki questions, waiting for him outside of class with his other two friends. ”how’d it go?”

shoulders slumped, but still wearing a smile on his face, yuuta chuckles. it comes out sounding a little strangled. ”they… thought i wanted their feedback on my poetry.”

….

”what.”

panda attempt to stifle his laughter, but it doesn’t really work. inumaki elbows him gently, but yuuta sees his eyes crinkle, too. he breathes out a low chuckle. ”they liked the poem, at least. so i’m happy.”

a sigh falls from maki’s lips, and she waltzes over to him, a hand on her hip. the other reaches out for the note in his palm. ”let me see.”

quickly unfolding it, her eyes trail across the words on the pages, the flowery lines of writing —

and then she shoots him an unimpressed look.

”.. yuuta,” she pinches the bridge of her nose. ”what the hell is this? you didn’t even mention their number.”

panda leans over her shoulder, peeking at the text. eyes glancing over a couple lines, riddled with sugarsweet metaphors. ”uh, wow. you… really got into it, huh?”

a groan leaves yuuta’s lips, the sound muffled as he cradles his head in his hands. ”please don’t say anything else. i just wanna crawl into a hole and die…”

inumaki shakes his head, erratic, pointing at the poem with shining eyes. ”mentaiko!”

”ah, you liked it? thanks, inumaki…”

the boy in question smiles, shooting yuuta a thumbs up. he returns it with a small smile of his own.

surrounded by his friends, all he can do is bask in their warmth — and the memory of the smile you gave him.

plan a plan b

plan c

a groan fills the air, as yuuta slumps over the table. cheek pressed against the cold wood, absently kicking his legs, voice meek and defeated.

”this is never gonna work,” he mutters under his breath. eyes devoid of hope. ” i’m just not cut out for this, guys…”

”aw, c’mon….” panda reaches over to ruffle his hair, palm big and warm. ”don’t give up hope! you want to grow closer to them, don’t you?”

”i do, but…” he sighs. ”this isn’t going very well, is it…?”

inumaki frowns, sending yuuta a sympathetic glance.

”oh, quit moping already!” maki grumbles. ”we just need to keep brainstorming. isn’t it time for my plan, yet?”

”should we really even keep going…?” another sigh, heavy with fatigue. yuuta’s mind spins in circles, tiring him out. rendering him a bit cynical. ”i mean… maybe it’s fine if things stay this way.”

a moment passes. maki looks at him, emitting a soft scoff. ”what, so you’re just gonna keep pining for the rest of the term?”

”that’s the plan.”

”yuuta…” panda pouts, shoes bumping against his beneath the table. ”be more positive! just think about it; with every step you take, you get closer to confessing!”

yet another groan. this one is deep, riddled with exhaustion. muffled into the table. ”that’s the scariest part…”

before either of his friends can begin to persuade him otherwise, encourage him further, a sing-songy voice echoes throughout the air. loud, cheery — a little bit obnoxious.

”oh? did someone just say confess?”

at the same instant the sound reaches their ears, a chill runs down the youths’ spines. in tandem with each other, they raise their heads; gazes falling on a certain satoru gojo.

panda and maki are the first to act, speaking simultaneously as the white haired man inches closer.

”— no.”

maki closes the notebook containing operation: get yuuta to confess, right before their professor can get close enough to see it. then she turns towards him, shooting him a cold look.

”your hearing’s getting bad,” she hums. ”maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.”

a pout. gojo takes a seat right beside her, uncomfortably long legs bumping against every single other pair of shoes beneath the table.

”oh, c’mon. you know i heard you.” his hand reaches out to ruffle her hair, but she smacks it away. ”you’re starting to sound just like megumi, y’know that?”

maki grits her teeth. ”guess it’s a genetic thing,” she huffs. ”now can you leave? don’t you have papers to grade?”

”don’t you have papers to write?” gojo smirks, a teasing mirth in his eyes. hidden behind his sunglasses. maki ignores him.

placing his palms on the table, he leans a little closer, lips curled up into a cheshire grin. foreboding. ”sooo… yuuta’s got himself a little crush, huh?” he teases. ”tell your favorite professor allll about it. maybe i can help!”

”professor geto is our favorite,” maki shoots back, instantaneous.

a soft huff. there’s something sour in gojo’s expression, now. ”that guy? really?”

before the two can argue further, yuuta takes the opportunity to to speak. smiling apologetically, polite and sweet. ”thanks, mr. gojo, but…”

”he doesn't need your help,” maki cuts in. so much for diffusing the tension. ”and do you really expect us to believe you get girls?”

”wha — rude!” gojo scoffs. ”for your information, i’m a natural charmer!”

…

a moment passes. then another.

”… tough crowd,” he clicks his tongue, met only with four blank stares. ”but, really — let me help! i'm your professor, you know?”

and this time, yuuta thinks that gojo’s smile looks just a little more sincere. something kind and gentle in the way his lips curl up, like a father’s affection for their children. something that makes yuuta falter.

(maki might like mr. geto more — but when it comes to yuuta, his favorite professor is a no-brainer.)

so he speaks up, again. ”we can at least hear him out, right…?” maki shoots him an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t back down. ”we’re stuck, anyway…”

and just like that, gojo brightens. it’s obvious, in the way he sits up, more alert. in the way his grin grows wider. ”right? what you need is the perspective of someone more experienced.”

”have you even talked to a girl before?”

”i see him at ieiri’s office, sometimes.”

”salmon.”

”isn’t she a lesbian? that doesn’t count. i mean, like, in a romantic context.”

”i thought mr. gojo was gay, too?”

”what? no way. have you seen the way he’s dressed —?”

gojo clears his throat, voice loud and grating. demanding attention, cutting his eager students off. ”anyway,” he chirps. ”gather round, children! i’ll tell you exactly how to ask the person you like for their number.”

”wh —” yuuta blinks. ”how’d you…?”

”operation ’get yuuta to confess!’, step 1: ask for their number!” gojo repeats, grinning ear to ear. voice rich with amusement. ”i like the glitter. it’s a nice touch.”

maki huffs. looks like she didn’t close it fast enough.

begrudgingly, the youths quiet down, finally willing to hear their professor out. and gojo seems satisfied, at last, speaking in a hushed whisper; eerily serious all of a sudden. ”ok, so here’s what you do…”

everything goes silent. yuuta strains his ears, and gojo parts his lips.

”— just ask them! easy, right?

….

”let’s go, yuuta.”

”mentaiko.”

”i heard they're serving those sandwiches you like at the cafeteria today! let's hurry before they run out.”

”ah — i was just kidding!” gojo laughs, as his students get up from their seats. ”i have an actual answer!”

maki grabs her bass, inumaki takes the notebook, and panda ushers yuuta away. they begin to walk down the hall, ignoring the pleas of the man behind them. pouting, as his shout echoes throughout the hallway.

”kids! come back!”

plan a plan b plan c

plan d

”okay, so this is going absolutely nowhere.”

relishing in the shadow cast by the giant campus tree, the four friends sit on their usual table, sandwiches in hand. yuuta takes a bite of his, tentative. a little disheartened.

”really, guys… i appreciate it a lot, but maybe we should stop here.”

maki huffs. reaching across the table, she gently smacks him over the head with her can of sprite. ”no way. we still haven’t tried my plan.”

he leans back, a little further, a hesitant look in his eyes. the sun shines down, relentless, but the air smells like rain. in the distance he sees clouds, dark, approaching at a slow pace.

an omen, he thinks. a reason not to speak out.

rika always liked the rain. she liked the scent that came with it, the puddles she could jump in. she liked shaking the branches of tiny trees, just to see him jolt and squeak as the raindrops hit him.

the ring around his neck weighs heavy on his heart. the promise of it, the oath within the silver.

(when we grow up, let’s get married!)

”earth to yuuta!”

his eyes flutter open.

the sun shines down, embracing the contours of his face. painting his world yellow. from this angle, staring up at the tree, he can see it breaking through; between the gaps of the green leaves, the white blossoms. forcing its way into his line of vision.

a flicker of hope.

”do you want to hear the plan or not?” maki scoffs, crossing her arms and tapping at her elbow. impatient.

yuuta meets her gaze, finding it in him to muster up just a little more determination. ”yeah,” he breathes. ”i do.”

a smile blooms on her face. ”good. alright.”

panda and inumaki inch closer to the pair, careful not to knock over the cans of soda resting on the table. in a mess of limbs and tousled hair, they gather round.

this is it, yuuta thinks — the final plan. if it fails, he’ll just have to keep pining from afar. memorizing your smile, over and over, until you graduate and part ways.

this is it.

maki parts her lips.

”— just ask them,” she says. ”straight out.”

silence.

a moment passes. a soft, pleasant breeze flits by, caressing yuuta’s skin. his ring sways with the wind, gently.

”… huh?!”

panda furrow his brows, leaning closer with his palms on his knees. ”i thought we agreed that was stupid!” inumaki huffs out a low affirmative noise, holding his sketchbook tightly to his chest. but maki only puffs out her chest.

yuuta tilts his head, with a soft furrow of his brows. ”didn’t you just cuss out mr. gojo for suggesting that…?”

”well, it’s dumb when he says it…” she mutters, under her breath. then her gaze turns firm. ”look — yuuta.”

when the two lock eyes, he notices a steadfast determination, glimmering in her irises. something almost burning.

”you aren’t going to get anywhere if you’re too cowardly to even look them in the eye,” she tells him, not allowing him to squirm away from the eye contact. ”you guys can come up with those convoluted plans all you want, but there’s no way you’ll grow closer if you can’t face them.”

tousling her hair, softly, maki lets out a sigh. there’s a kindness to it, distinct. he can tell she’s trying to be tactful.

”if you really want to get to know them, then you have to be direct. and you have to believe in yourself. you’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that they’ll say no — but that’s just dumb.”

panda winces, under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. maybe this is exactly what yuuta needs to hear.

the boy in question listens, the eyes of his friend boring into his own. determined, confident, sincere — everything he isn’t. everything he wants to be.

”even if you don’t believe it, you’re a charming guy. we all think so,” she continues, matter-of-factly. angered affection overflowing in her voice.

”have some confidence, dammit!”

a moment passes. yuuta feels his lips part, ever so slightly. a little speechless.

panda and inumaki sit shoulder to shoulder, hands over their eyes, shielding themselves from the sight in front of them. comically, as if it’s too bright to look at directly.

”this… overflowing tough love…!”

”salmon roe…!”

maki grins, all teeth, a little wolfish. but kind. ”the worst thing they can say is no, right?

yuuta blinks. ”maki…” he mumbles, looking into her eyes, a certain sensation running through his chest. a kind of confidence. passed on from her to him — one friend to another. the most natural exchange in the world.

then he smiles. a little meek, somewhat awkward — but bright. ”yeah. yeah, you’re right!”

the lazy grin on her lips only deepens, as she gets up to her feet, dusting non-existent dirt off her jeans. reaching a hand out for yuuta to take. ”c’mon, loser. shape up. you’re gonna steal their heart, aren’t you?”

a moment passes.

yuuta takes her hand in his. ”i am,” he swallows down a gulp. willing his voice to sound even a little bit self-assured.

and she pulls him up, effortlessly, overflowing with a natural resilience. still grinning cheekily. encouraging him. ”you’re gonna go out there and do your best, right?”

”i — i am!”

another voice chimes in. ”you’re gonna finish my essay for me this week, right?”

”i am!”

…

”wait —”

maki hits panda over the head with a soft thwack. a wince leaves his lips, and inumaki giggles, quieting down when maki sends him a warning glance.

”don’t throw him off his game,” she huffs. then she turns to yuuta once more. ”let’s go find them. alright, loverboy?”

a smile blooms on his lips. grateful, to be surrounded by such sunny people. ones that make it a little easier to smile each day. ”right.”

— but before either of them can take a step forward, a warm voice spills into the open air.

”um, yuuta?”

the boy in question stops in his tracks. he feels his eyes widen, spinning on his heels, hair ruffled by the breeze — turning to look at the source of the sound.

it’s you.

you, with your sunkissed smile, that inviting voice. that soothing, soothing presence. one that has his heartbeat picking up in speed, hands growing sweaty, throat running dry. one that makes him feel a little bit feverish. and you’re looking right at him, into his eyes.

”hey!” he sputters, blinking rapidly to convince himself that he isn’t hallucinating. but you just keep smiling, answering his awkward greeting without skipping a beat.

”hi! sorry, could i just… talk to you, for a second?”

he blinks. the world stops spinning.

(you… want to talk….

to him?)

attempting to find the words, any words, he opens his mouth — but nothing comes out. not a single syllable, no vowels, not even a sound. nothing at all.

he can only stare, star-struck.

it’s not until his friends push him forward that he’s snapped out of it; they surround him, on all sides, wearing matching grins. teasing and excited.

”don’t worry, he’s all yours!”

”have fun, you two!”

”salmon!”

— then they’re off.

yuuta tries to reach for their sleeves, in a weak attempt to keep them from leaving, but they’re gone before he can even blink. leaving him all alone, with someone he can’t talk to without experiencing intense symptoms of heart failure.

he stumbles for something to say, again, but thankfully you beat him to it.

”sorry for interrupting you guys,” you say, voice set to a low tilt. apologetic. and his throat unclogs, a little.

”ah, no, it’s fine!” he smiles, maybe a little too giddy. wanting so badly to reassure you, to put you at ease. ”i’m happy to speak to you!”

…

(oh god oh no why did i say that —)

your smile widens, blooming like a flower in the sunlight. unfurling in front of his very eyes. ”me too!” you say, excitedly. ”i feel like you and i have been talking more, recently… it’s nice.”

eyes crinkling, you wringle your hands together, and look at him fondly. yuuta’s surprised he manages to keep his knees from buckling.

”i think so too!” he grins, ears pink and dimples showing.

both of you smile. the breeze curls around your hair, illuminating the colour of your eyes. yuuta stops breathing, for a moment — just taking it all in.

”so — anyway…” you murmur, fiddling with the fabric of your pants. ”um… haha. sorry, i’m — a little nervous…”

yuuta blinks.

(he knows where this is going. all the signs are there, right in front of him; the flush of your cheeks, the nervous tapping of your fingers, the hesitance in your eyes. he’s read enough shoujo manga — he knows what this means.)

and he almost can’t believe it.

all he can do is keep smiling, hoping it’ll give you even a fraction of the peace that your smile brings him. ”don’t be,” he says, voice soothing. scratching the back of his head. ”whatever it is, i’ll — um. i’ll listen, so…”

he clears his throat. swallowing thickly.

”just — whenever you're ready.”

there’s no mistaking it. your ears are painted pink, and you’re gnawing at your bottom lip. fiddling with your fingers and avoiding his gaze, with a soft inhale, clear air filling your lungs. he wonders if your throat feels as dry as his, if your heart is beating even half as fast.

”um… okay, so…” you mumble, eyes unable to stay in one place for too long. a soft bout of laughter escapes you, and he can tell you’re trying to stave off your own nervosity; it sends a pang of ache running through his chest.

he wants to tell you that there’s no need to be nervous. that he’d listen to anything you have say, absolutely anything, no matter what it is.

he wants to tell you that he’d never let you down, that he’d have to be foolish to even think the thought.

he wants to tell you that he’ll hear you out. whenever, wherever. for as long as you need.

”do you, um…”

a gulp. your eyes find his, and there’s a soft kind of decisiveness in them.

here it comes, he thinks. here it comes.

yuuta feels the heat on his cheeks, ears burning. and he hears the patter of his heartbeat, loud and heavy, echoing in his muddled mind like a mantra. but his chest feels light; fluttery, butterflies dancing around uncontrollably.

clutching the ring around his neck, subconsciously, he looks you in the eye.

they’re bright, glimmering like little galaxies — or maybe more like summer skies. painted over with a warm hue, something nostalgic and sweet, so pretty it hurts. if he strains his eyes enough, he’s almost sure he can see the swirling of fluffy clouds in the depths of your irises.

a smile rests on your lips. it's almost overwhelmingly sweet, albeit a little shy, as you part your pretty lips. voice soaked in nervosity, tingly and shaky, and something he knows to be puppy love.

a shallow, dry intake of breath. yuuta braces himself.

here it comes.

your voice spills out into the air, dripping with honey and magnolias. he thinks to himself that he’d like to hear the melodic lilt of it every single day; before going to bed, right after waking up. walking to campus together, heading back to the dorms when the sky gets dark.

just the sound alone would be enough.

subconsciously, he tugs on the strap of his backpack. thinking of the pencil inside it. his lucky charm, along with the ring around his neck — ordinary objects, both too precious for words.

(when we grow up, let’s get married!

you can keep it, if you want.)

here it comes, yuuta thinks.

a new beginning.

he strains his ears, and purses his lips, and watches your lips move as you finally ask —

”do you have maki’s number?”

(somewhere in the distance, from an inconspicuous bush, the muffled screams of three students and one professor resounds.)

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fazedlight · 2 months

Text

Confusion (Late S6 vibes. I found a use for William… I’m sorry?)

The Catco elevators opened to a chaotic scene as Lena stepped out. Despite being afterhours - it had just passed 6pm - employees were shuffling around everywhere, with frequent murmurs and occasional shouts flying by.

“Looking for Kara?” Nia said, passing by Lena while holding a large stack of papers on the brink of falling. Lena opened her mouth to speak, but Nia didn’t wait for an answer. “She’ll be back in a few minutes, I think she’s meeting with Andrea.”

Lena nodded as Nia quickly disappeared into the backrooms. Guess this is normal when they crash the issue, Lena thought, making her way to Kara’s desk and setting down the mocha and pastries she had brought from Noonan’s. She had been lucky to get there just before closing, after Kara’s text that they’d have to skip movie night in favor of a late night at work.

“Lena,” came a deep voice behind her, “What are you doing here?”

Lena turned, nodding to William as he approached. “Just bringing Kara some stuff,” she said, gesturing to Kara’s desk. “Late night for you too?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Hopefully the last, before I move back to London.”

“You’re moving?”

“Looking forward to going home,” William said. “I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. Just enough time to hand off my responsibilities at Catco.”

“Going back to The Times?” Lena asked.

William nodded. His eyes drifted to the coffee and sweets, and Lena noticed a tinge of confusion. “I best get going,” he said, not remarking on what he was thinking. “The senator’s fraud case means I have an article to rewrite.”

“Good luck,” Lena said, as he waved and left. Lena turned back, finding Kara as she rounded the corner with Andrea. Kara met Lena’s eyes, and the blonde smiled wide.

---

“You smell like smoke,” Lena said, brushing ash off of Kara’s shoulder, eyeing the charcoal hues that tinged her supersuit.

“A forest fire will do that,” Kara said, practically shaking like a dog to get other ash off her hair. “Luckily we got it before it spread very far.”

William glanced over curiously from where he was jotting notes. He had been working with Alex and Brainy on mapping out city hotspots when Supergirl had arrived back from her firefighting. It hadn’t taken long for Lena to make her way out of the lab and go up to the super.

“I think we gotta spray you down,” Lena teased.

“Brainy said the nanobots can handle it,” Kara said, tossing her hair back. “I just gotta deactivate at some point.”

“Yeah, you gonna get around to that soon?”

“Will you two knock it off?” Alex said, her voice aggrieved. “Some of us are trying to get work done.”

The two had the good sense to look a little bashful, and William glanced over curiously. From his side, he could hear Alex mutter “just good friends, my ass”, and he watched as Supergirl threw her head up towards Alex, flushing slightly, and seeming suddenly unable to look a confused Lena in the eye.

This is going a bit too far, William thought, eyes darting to Lena. Flirting with Kara? And Supergirl?

---

“Well, it’s been great working with you,” Supergirl said, extending her hand.

William returned the gesture, then doing similar with Alex, and J’onn, and Lena. “Please do keep in touch,” he said. “I’d love to hear from you when you’re back in London.”

“Have a safe fli-” Supergirl suddenly turned her head.

“Something going on?” Alex asked.

“Bank robbery downtown. Might be a big one,” Supergirl said. “Safe flight, William. We’ll see you later.”

William nodded as Supergirl left, J’onn and Alex following. That left him behind with Lena, who didn’t frequent the field unless magic was afoot. Which left him a bit grateful for the chance…

“Well, William-”

“Don’t break her heart, Lena.”

Lena’s brows furrowed, utterly perplexed. “What?”

“I see you,” William said, a serious expression on his face. “The way you flirt with Supergirl. The way you flirt with Kara.”

“Kara- flirt-” Lena’s eyes widened.

“Look, they’re both clearly interested in you,” William said. “All I’m saying is be clear with your intentions. Kara doesn’t deserve a broken heart.”

“I don’t have intentions. With- with either of them,” Lena answered.

William’s face tensed with skepticism. I’ve said my piece, he decided. “It’s been great working with you, Lena.”

---

William tilted his head back against the plane’s headrest. The 5hrs from National City to Metropolis had been annoying enough. Now it’d be another 6hrs to London. I hope I can get more sleep this flight, he thought, glancing out over the Atlantic Ocean.

He looked down at the gossip rag he had purchased in Metropolis Airport, beginning to flip through it. It was mindless garbage, hopefully boring enough to lull him to sleep.

As he turned the pages, he was surprised to find a picture of Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor - but then again, it was only a matter of time. It’s just so fucking obvious, William thought, wondering if the tabloid suspicions would force Lena to choose.

But he was also unsettled - it was an odd location. To any casual reader, it would simply be a random picture on the street, the two perhaps on the way to get a cup of coffee. But he knew they were just feet away from the Tower. A location that, according to Alex Danvers, Kara had no awareness of.

He stared, and stared. Would Lena be so foolish to ask Kara to meet there?, he thought, knowing the Luthor was too smart to make such a casual mistake.

That’s when his already-jetlagged brain began to scan Kara again. The blonde hair. The emphatic voice. The way she fiddled with her glasses. The way Lena flirted with her, just like-

Wait, William thought, startling awake with a shot of adrenaline. Wait, WHAT?!

---

It was early morning when Lena took her seat at a lab bench, her mind still swimming from William’s observation the day before. Have I really been that obvious?, she wondered to herself. Does Kara know? And if she does, she hasn’t said anything because…

Lena put her face in hands. God, I hope I haven’t been making a fool of myself.

“Are you okay?” came a voice.

Lena’s head popped up, finding Kara wandering into her lab, a hint of concern highlighting the blonde’s face. “Your heartbeat is fast,” Kara said, “I just came over to - to see if something was wrong.”

“I’m fine,” Lena said, her voice a high-pitched squeak.

“Lena,” Kara said, taking a seat next to Lena, pulling her into a hug. “Lena, I’m here.”

Lena sighed, relaxing into Kara’s arms. What am I so afraid of?, she thought to herself. That Kara doesn’t feel the same way? That our friendship will change? While the first was the only likelihood Lena could really see, the second… just didn’t seem like a real possibility.

Lena pulled back from the hug, gazing into Kara’s face. Didn’t we learn we should be honest so long ago?, she thought. Even when it’s hard? “William… said choose,” Lena said slowly, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, “Between Kara and Supergirl.”

“Choose?” Kara said, confused.

“I’ve, er,” Lena swallowed harshly. “I’ve apparently been flirting. With both of you.”

Kara’s eyes widened. “On purpose?”

“No…”

“Oh.”

She sounds… disappointed?, Lena thought, and she knew Kara could hear her heart beginning to pound a little faster. “I- I can do it on purpose? If you want.”

And this time Lena felt a growing joy in watching Kara flush. “I’d like that. And, um,” Kara paused, shifting shyly. “Maybe after we do that for a while, I can ask you on a date?”

Lena smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

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

This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. I did do a 9-word fic for it - but then I figured hey, may as well write out the full thing.

#I am very bad at flirting to so do not judge me. (Or do 😂)#this was in my plotbunny doc as “William the helpful idiot”#I don't hate William as a character. But he just wasn't necessary. The screentime would've been better spent on supercorp or dansen #anyway Nic I sent him to London as you suggested 😌#mel writes ficlets #supercorp

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yeonjuns-beanie · 2 months

Text

Halo Pt.2

warnings: less plot, but still plot, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, biting, light blood(play), light hair pulling, body worship, oral(f receiving), light degradation, yandere themes, dub-con, think that's it

summary: in your free time you do freelance writing, doing interviews with people most would consider strand and unusual. when you recognize that one of the regulars in your coffee shop only visits in the evening, you pose the question of where you can interview him, upon his agreement, you realize this is unlike any other interview

a/n: holy shit, i am alive actually. i feel kinda horrible that i last posted in september. life got kinda crazy, i was slammed with uni and work, and had intense writer's block. anyways, i hope those of you who enjoyed the first part enjoy this one even more! i'm not entirely sure how active i'll be this semester, but i'm not going to make any promises lol. as always, i hope you enjoy and have a great day! :D ~nero

word count: 5.4K

Vampire!Seonghwa x female reader

pt.1

Seonghwa looked off to the side, inhaling a calculated breath before he spoke.

“The nightlife. Where I was before was too prosaic and mundane. It lacked character. But here? There’s a flame that ignites when the sun goes down.”

You scribbled down his last sentence wanting to maybe use it as the title for the piece when you finished. Looking back up at him, you felt your body relax and suddenly everything felt easy.

“Where were you before?”

“Everywhere. I’m a bit of a nomad, you see? I can’t stay chained to one place for too long.”

“Did you find your last locations to grow boring, or was it something else?”

“Something else. Rather of my own doing, but needing to keep my needs satiated is a necessity.”

You paused for a moment and glanced at your notebook littered with questions trying to find the next avenue you’d walk down. You hadn’t been faced with someone so careful in their speech. He was answering your questions, yes, but not in the full detail that you desired. He was making you work.

“Being a nomad, you must have a flexible job. What do you do for work and what’s your haven for play?”

A smirk formed on his face, like he knew he was stumping you. Running his fingers through his onyx locks, he went to lick his lips and you noticed the length of one of his canines peeking from behind his upper lip.

“Ah, yes. For work, I was lucky enough to benefit from years of generational wealth, but I hated the fact of that being my only accolade. So I sought after art. I always rendered an interest in building things so I thought, why not extend that to an artistic field?”

“What’s your medium?”

“Sculptures and charcoal portraits. I love capturing time in a piece. I don’t know how long this life will grant me so I enjoy partaking in affairs that allow me to immortalize that time. Remind me to show you some of my portraits.”

Nodding, you remembered the busts you saw when you entered his home, the question crossed your mind if those were his art.

“Those busts that you have in your entryway, did you make those as well?”

“So you really were quite entranced. To answer you, yes, I did create those as well. They’re of my family who have since passed on. I don’t have many left in my life so it aids me in keeping the memory of them alive.”

Moving your hair out of your face to look at him, you furrowed your brow feeling sorry for him as you processed his statement.

“Are you all alone out here?”

The concerned look on your face quickly fell to anxiety as you feared you may be prying too much into his personal life. Getting ready to speak again, Seonghwa stopped you with the gentle raise of his hand and smiled.

“You’re not overstepping any boundaries, my dove. When I agreed to sit with you, pen in hand with the recorder running, I alleviated all forms of privacy for you. You may ask me whatever you feel called to ask. I’m yours for the evening.”

A soft smile pulled at your lips as you silently acknowledged him, and thanked him for being so tender with you. His velvet voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“To answer your previous question though, yes, I am all alone. It was lonely at first, but after a while it became comfortable. Perhaps preferred. I did find that recently though, the exigent desire for a partner has been pulling at my heartstrings.”

“With your interest in the nightlife here, surely it shouldn’t be too hard to find yourself a companion. Not to mention if you’re speaking romantically, I’m sure you’d find yourself plenty of options.”

You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth, but it was already in the air now and you just had to hope and pray that he’d let it slide.

“What are implying?”

Of course, he wouldn’t.

“I’m just saying…that, you know, you are an attractive guy. It seems like you’d have a particularly easy time…weeding through people.”

“You think I have a lot of suitors?”

Seonghwa had his arms folded across his chest now, gaining pleasure from making you squirm.

“I’m saying that I think you’d have a fair amount of people to choose from, not necessarily that they’d be worthy of your time.”

You brought the pen up to your lips, feeling your anxiety swirl in your body as Seonghwa continued to hanker down on you. You glanced over at your notebook again, seeing what you could ask to divert the subject but before you had the chance to speak, Seonghwa was prying.

“Worthy of my time?”

“From first impressions, you seem…difficult to entertain. Not to be impressed by the bare minimum, which if considering this town, there is a lot of.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, smiling without showing his teeth. His aura radiated a slimy smugness that irritated you but also ignited a fire within you.

“I’d beg to differ. There are a select few I’ve come across. I wouldn’t be so certain in your statement.”

Your mind was swarmed with questions, most of them centering around who he was entertaining and if you even spared a shot with him.

“Have you found a lover yet then?”

With Seonghwa still hovering over the desk, he looked so much larger than usual. He commanded even more attention and you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away from his as he stared you down. When he spoke, he raked his eyes over your form and was begging whatever deity was out there that you’d pick up on his hints.

“I’ve found who I want to be mine, she just doesn’t know it yet. I’ve been leaving her clues, paltry I know, but I beg that she pick up my scent soon.”

“Like a secret admirer?”

“You can call it that, yes. What I feel for her though is more than what a secret admirer could possess.”

You felt your heart drop, not even letting the delusion have time to manifest to let you think that this “she” was you. You nodded your head and looked toward your notebook again scanning over your questions to see where you wanted to take the interview next. As you went to look up at Seonghwa again, you noticed that unabated gloss cast over his eyes again. The other thing you noticed was that his eyes seemed to change color. It was hard to tell for sure in the dim lighting of the study, but you swore you were seeing flecks of red in his irises.

As you inhaled to speak, you felt your body freeze and an indistinguishable tingle ran rampant through your limbs. Panic registered across your pupils as you tried to move but soon recognized that you were glued to the chair. Your limbs were attached to the wood of the desk as if your skin were made to melt into the surface. Suddenly as you looked at Seonghwa, you realized that you recognized this feeling, the energy that was emanating across from you. It was all too familiar.

It wasn’t sleep paralysis. It was him.

“Ahh, yes it was, my dove. I’m disheartened that it took you this long. Thought the journal would’ve been clue enough.”

Feeling that static in your fingers trail up your arm and down through your body, you felt control over yourself again. You pressed your back flesh against the chair, a feeble attempt at creating space between you two. Your vision was unfocused for a moment and in the blur created, you understood that the man across you was the figure in the corner of your room last night. Your breath quickened with fear, but something else mixed in with your emotions that you couldn’t quite place yet.

“Y-you we’re in my room last night?… Why?”

Seonghwa stood up slowly, his hands planted firmly on the desk. His frame which was at first sleek and inviting was now imposing and ravening. His eyes were boring into you making you feel so minuscule under his gaze. His tone was low, almost near a whisper, but his next words sent a chill down your spine.

“Because I can’t bear to leave you alone.”

Your eyes blew wide in panic, fear present in your features. You wondered how you could find a way out of this, a way to remedy the situation but you felt completely and utterly trapped. You looked behind you to the door of the study and defeat enveloped you as you came to the conclusion that any attempt you made to escape would prove to be fruitless. As you returned your gaze to Seonghwa, he was shaking his head, a grin cast on his face.

“How could you even think about leaving so early when we haven’t finished the interview yet, y/n? I’ve looked forward to this all day, I’d hate for it to end so soon.”

Seonghwa furrowed his features into a pout, persuading you to swallow your fear and sit forward. Maybe, if you indulged in him he’d let you leave. As Seonghwa sat back in his seat, a new wave of questions ran through your brain. Whether or not you’d include this in the posted interview, you needed closure for yourself. Asserting yourself in your spot, you sat taller, your gaze piercing his as he did to you moments before. Your voice carried a dominance that hadn’t been present all evening.

“How long have you been following me?”

“Fiesty are we?”

“Hwa, how long have you been on my tail?”

“My dove, I’m disappointed. How could you not realize all those rotten feelings you felt when you stepped out of your car were because of me?”

His face was sickening, he was enjoying this. The smile that painted his face was sardonic and it made acrimony bubble within you. All those weeks where you felt like you were going brainsick were because of him.

I can’t believe him right now

“Better start believing y/n. At least you have the comfort of knowing you’re not demented.”

“Stop doing that!”

It was freaking you out that nearly every thought you had about him he had a response to. He was inside your head and you couldn’t place how he was doing it.

“Doing what, darling?”

“That! Being in my head! How are you doing that?!”

Your fear was making you hostile and agitated. You felt completely out of control and you hated every second of it. You were in a stranger’s house, agreeing to come based on the hopes that you’d get something out of this and now you were shackled in this room with a stalker. You stared down at your notebook trying to fit the pieces of all of this together. The thought finally dawned on you that he knew where you lived, and it was no mere coincidence that the journal you found at your front door perfectly matched the pen he gave you. Your eyes landed on a bookshelf behind you and you noticed a horrifying similarity between what was sitting on the shelves and what was resting underneath your hands.

“Ask me.”

Your head whipped to Seonghwa’s voice, not daring to disrespect him for you were fearful of the consequences.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me how I know your thoughts.”

You inhaled a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the answer you were about to be given. Sighing you looked straight into his eyes, and that’s when you noticed the color of them changed. A deep carmine colored his irises now. Your eyes squinted, trying to understand his motive now.

“How do you know what I’m thinking.”

He inhaled a breath, mocking you. He smiled at you, something sickeningly sweet about it.

“Vampirism. Vampirism is how I know. Vampirism is also how I’ve been able to stalk you without the thought of me ever crossing your mind. It’s the reason why I was in your bedroom, why I could never leave your thoughts, why you were entranced by me. By design, you were meant to be allured by me and you were. Which is why you’re sitting across from me.”

You were stunned. You always entertained the idea of supernatural creatures, but never did you think that were actually real. Never in your lifetime did you think that you’d be face to face with a vampire and with that knowledge you were now more fearful of your situation. Your next words flew from your mouth without any chance to filter.

“What do you feed on?”

Seonghwa leaned forward and smiled, the tip of one of his fangs peeking out onto his bottom lip.

“Whatever I can get my hands on. I have to say though, the more fear that exudes from my dinner makes the taste that much more delectable. And you, my sweet y/n, are absolutely intoxicating right now. Almost as sweet as last night. Gods, it took everything in me not to devour you then.”

You held your composure, but something stirred in your lower stomach. Radiating heat between your thighs.

Arousal.

You were feeling aroused by his words, and you were ashamed by it. Here you were, at the mercy of a stranger and yet, you were aroused by the transparency of his truths. You tried to push the feeling to the back of your mind, but something was bringing your innermost fantasies about Seonghwa forward. His eyes were indulging in you in sheer gluttony, looking at you like prey and you couldn’t help but think that he was holding back on what his inner monologue consisted of.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

You leaned forward, asserting yourself now that a lustful wave crashed over your body.

“So that’s what gets you off? Carnal urges, is it?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“While true, it is what I heard prior to you speaking.”

Rolling your tongue across your teeth, you were through with the antics.

“What’s on your mind now, Hwa?”

He smiled flashing his teeth, his fangs on full display.

“Truthfully, I’m running through all the ways I want to consume you. To make you mine. And it’s becoming quite painful to ignore.”

You wanted to call his bluff, to catch him off guard even with the disadvantage of him invading the privacy of your mind. You stood up from the chair, the legs creating a painful scratching sound across the wood. You walked around the edge of the desk and positioned yourself in front of him, gently laying your hand on the table in front of his, your fingertips barely touching. Leaning down, you stared into his piercing garnet eyes damning yourself to cosset in the feelings that were licentious in nature. Wetting your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, you felt your eyes blow in temptation and you knew he was aware of every second of it.

“Then do something about it. Live up to this lavish vampiric character you’ve laid out for me.”

With the passing of a second, the roles of power drastically shifted. His body moved with a swiftness that you hadn’t experienced and before you had a chance to register what happened, you were caged underneath his frame with your hips nailed against the side of the desk. His slender hand snaked its way to your neck, wrapping his deft fingers around your face and forcing you to look at him.

“Careful, pet. I don’t think you understand the gravity of your words.”

Eyes darkening with lust, you smirked at him feeling a sense of power as you watched him lose control in front of you. Moving your body to sit on top of the desk, you rolled your neck, exposing your most vulnerable space of skin to him.

“You reek of luxuria, have you any shame?”

“Not any more than you.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you trailed your hand up to the nape of his neck, goosebumps forming in its wake. You curled your fingers into the hair resting on his neck feeling fulfilled as you watched his body shiver in unabashed desire for you. His chest heaved heavy breaths as his lust for you was becoming harder to control. Seonghwa let his head fall into the conjunction of where your neck and shoulder met, his breath creating an intense humidity that only aided your arousal.

Pulling at his hair, you positioned him to look at you head-on. His eyes were blown wide, the red of his irises nearly covered up by the black of his pupils. His breathing was still heavy and you could feel a small bulge prodding at your inner thigh. Rolling your hips into his, you watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, only the white of his sclera showing. As he breathed out, a small whimper was swallowed in his throat. Pulling at his hair, he opened his eyes to look at you.

“Devour me, Seonghwa.”

Any suppression of his feelings turned into a zealous carnal display of affection. His lips were on yours in a second, hot and impassioned. His hands roamed over the exposed flesh of your thighs, indenting the skin with his fingers each time he squeezed. Your head was squirming with floating ideas and wrestling with the plain fact that you were getting exactly what you wanted.

As Seonghwa swiped your bottom lip, silently asking for permission, you parted your mouth just enough to grant your tongues the freedom to fight for dominance. With one roll of your tongue into his mouth, the side of your tongue was swiped by the point of his fang. It sent a chill down your spine but excited you even further. Feeling bold, you closed the space of your lips and bit down on his bottom lip, pulling away from him as you watched him with hooded eyes.

Letting your hands snake down his torso, you hooked your fingers into his belt loops pulling him closer to your clothed center. Gently rolling your hips, you were thankful that you wore a skirt as your aching cunt ghosted over his jean covered cock. Looking up at him, your eyes were blown and you could feel the sexual adrenaline raging through your body.

“I want you, Seonghwa. I want you to make me yours.”

Seonghwa looked down at you, a knowing smirk painting his mouth as he gingerly put his finger under your chin.

“Aww, how sweet. But darling, you were mine the moment I laid my eyes upon you, don’t you get that? I just needed that sweet invitation to fall from your pretty lips.”

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa’s hands found their way underneath the fabric of your shirt. His hands were like ice, but the contrasting temperature soothed the raging heat dancing across your skin. There was an uncontrollable need and you felt like you couldn’t get close enough to him. Your body kept rolling into his and you couldn’t quell the small moan that escaped your throat.

“Excited, hmm?”

Your eyes were pleading, needing to feel something other than his hands roaming your body.

“Do something, please. I’m begging you.”

Seonghwa brought his face to the side of yours so that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. He was breathing slowly, almost methodically and it made your heartbeat race. When he spoke, your eyebrows furrowed at his lower tone.

“Just something?”

You mewled at him, tired of the teasing, but what he did next was not what you expected. One of his fangs made contact with the sensitive skin of your neck and you moaned out as the tip of it impaled your skin. Seonghwa pulled away, his tongue swiping at the tiny drop of crimson staining his tooth. His eyes darkened as he smirked at you and indulged in your metallic taste. You felt him roll his hips into yours, his cock growing harder as he imagined how it would feel to feed off of your naked body.

Growing impatient from the wanton ache that settled in your cunt, you pushed Seonghwa away from you and your body off of the desk. Making yourself as big as possible, you guided his body backward until his knees met the lip of the couch in the study. As his form gracefully plopped into the cushions, you tore your top off throwing it on the floor behind you. You straddled Seonghwa’s thighs, grinding your hips down into him as you made contact with his lap. You cupped his face as you let your body control your actions rather than your mind. Pulling him close, your lips danced a dangerous waltz of spit and tongue as he began to feel dizzy from the intensity.

Seonghwa was enjoying this obscene side of you, his nimble fingers gripping at your skin any chance he got. Pulling away from his lips, his mouth chased yours not ready for the kiss to end so soon. Placing your hands on his chest, you allowed yourself the time to admire his form. His perfectly sculpted body that was encased so delicately by the mesh he wore. You sucked your bottom lip behind your teeth as you gripped the fabric into your fist grinding down into his erection.

His hips rolled up into yours and his breathing quickened as he devoured you with his eyes.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“More than you know.” You panted out

Seonghwa patted your thigh and nodded his chin behind you.

“Up.”

You pushed yourself off of him, suddenly hyper-aware of your insecurities. They didn’t have long to manifest as his voice pulled you from your thoughts. He grabbed your hand leading you out of the study, down the hallway, and guided you into his bedroom.

“Never. Think such dreadful things about yourself, my dove.”

Seonghwa gently placed you down on the edge of his opulent bed, his bedroom far too extravagant for you to fully appreciate right now. Nodding his head behind you, you understood his cue to scoot back and your eyes never left him as he crawled over your body.

“It’s simply just, if I’m going to ravage you in the ways I’ve dreamt so vividly, it wasn’t going to happen on that vapid couch.”

He placed gentle kisses on your jawline, nipping slightly at the skin near your earlobe. Seonghwa then dragged his nose down the valley of your breasts and stopped at the hemline of your skirt. The heat and your arousal turn near suffocating under the constraints of your panties.

“You deserve to be tasted, worshipped. To be given a night of passion. And I, my sweet y/n, am going to give you all of that and more.”

His voice turned more gruff the more his sentence trailed on. What you failed to realize was that due to the angle he was at, your arousal was like his personal parfum and it was dreadfully intoxicating. He acted with no haste as he dragged your skirt down your legs, taking your underwear with it. You felt embarrassment quickly wash over your body as you felt the stick of your arousal stretch between your needy lips and the ruined cotton.

Now fully exposed to him, you had nowhere to hide and it excited you. He pressed his nose against your clit, the action sending a savage bolt of lust through your body. Your body shivered as he took a deep inhale of your scent, his tongue following soon behind with a flattened lick across your folds. The moan that left you was covetous and echoed off the walls of his bedroom.

Seonghwa lapped at your folds like a ravenous dog and your sounds only egged him on. Your hips were riding his face, unable to get enough of him. When your hand found refuge in his inky locks, he moaned into your pussy, the vibrations bringing you to the precipice of your orgasm. With one hand gripping at his hair and the other fisting the sheets, you were moaning like a rapacious whore.

“Hwa, fuck! Hwa I’m gonna cum!”

Seonghwa gripped his hands tighter around your hips, shoving your cunt as close as possible to his mouth. Seonghwa focused on your clit, fluttering his tongue against your sensitive bud before sucking your orgasm right out of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!”

Seonghwa didn’t give you a chance to ride out your first orgasm, instead, he continued sucking on your tender rosebud and let the aftershock of your second climax wash over you. Your body shook in intervals of vibrating lust. Chillis littering your body as you relished in the feeling he just bestowed upon you. Lifting himself from between your legs, he hovered over you with a satisfied smirk plastered on his lips. Soon his lips were on yours again and the tangy taste of yourself swept across your tastebuds. Pulling away from you, he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“You taste even better than what I dreamt of.”

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that he wanted you just as bad and your mouth moved quicker than your mind.

“Y-you’ve dreamt of me?”

An airy chuckle left his throat.

“Darling, if you question my likening for you one more time tonight, I’m going to have to chain you to my bed and fuck any trace of doubt out of you.”

Your hole squeezed around nothing and courage found itself in you again. Flipping your bodies over, you sat on top of his lap, your arousal spreading all over the top of his jeans. Undoing his belt, the sexual tension was fervid and it was as if you couldn’t move your hands fast enough. His cock was straining against the layers of fabric and you needed it straining against your walls.

Pulling his jeans down his legs with his underwear, you knelt down, prepared to offer up all your oral skills known to man. Before you could ghost your lips over his tip, Seonghwa’s hand found your chin and titled you to look up at him.

“There will be plenty of times for you to taste me, tonight though is about our collective ecstasy. To lose ourselves in one another.”

His hand pulled you closer to him and you straddled your legs over his. His leaky and libertine cock teasing your entrance as you hovered over him. His hair lay disheveled across his face all thanks to your hands and he somehow looked even more desirable than before. With puffy lips and heavy eyes, you needed him in every way imaginable.

Lowering yourself down onto his cock, you weren’t prepared for how big he’d feel as you took him in inch by inch. He thickened as you reached his base and made you feel so full. As you bottomed out on him, both of you moaned in harmonious synchrony that made you wish you could have it on repeat.

“Hwa~! You’re so—so big.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you squeezed his length inside of your velvety walls. You placed your hands on his shoulders needing something to ground yourself on. Seonghwa’s hands purchased themselves on your hips awaiting your movements.

“Call me that again.”

You rolled your hips, your walls fluttering as you looked down at him.

“Hwa~”

You let your forehead rest against his as your body began to ride his perfect cock. Your moans creating the quintessential licentious atmosphere.

“Hwa, baby…you feel so good.”

Your mind was racing, not really paying attention to the words that left your mouth. But you wished you did.

In seconds, the use of the pet name rendered you at his mercy. Only for a moment did his cock leave your seraphic cunt as your bodies were flipped once again. Seonghwa entered you with such a force that you could only describe as concupiscent and raw. Your nails immediately dug themselves into his back and the sounds that left him were more obscene.

“Oh, God!”

“God is nowhere in this room, nor will he ever be, Pet.”

His moans were tantalizing, hypnotizing you even more so under his spell. His thrusts were deep and calculated, abusing your G-spot with every hit. If God wasn’t in this room, all that Seonghwa was making you feel definitely felt like it. You’d never felt euphoria like this before, it was sinful in every sense of the word and made it feel like there truly was a reason for Him to have died for our sins. Feeling a pool of heat begin to settle near the bottom of your stomach, you wrapped your legs around his waist caging him to you.

“Y/nnn, I can’t hold myself back much longer.”

As your walls fluttered around him one more time you shook your head, your voice coming out with more air than you anticipated.

“Me n-neither.”

You kissed him again, impassioned and frenzied. Panting against his lips, your nails found solace in his back again. His breath was creating humidity in your neck and you enjoyed every second of it. Looking into his eyes, there was more swimming in them than just lust.

“I want all of you. I want to feel every part of you Hwa. I need you. I need you so bad, H~wa!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your nails dug deep crescents into his skin. As you begged him for all he had to give he did just that as his mouth snuck its way to your neck and his fangs sunk into your skin.

The feeling of the puncture was just what you needed to peer over the horizon of your orgasm and crash into the sea of its entirety. Seonghwa was still pumping his hard cock into you and then you felt a familiar warmth flood your walls. Your body squirmed underneath him and slowly your vision began to blur. Before you had the chance to completely lose consciousness, you watched Seonghwa slice his tooth into his wrist and felt the crimson drain over your lips as he pressed his wrist to your mouth.

“Drink, my sweet dove.”

His voice was so sweet. Like a siren’s as you drifted into a slumber that was filled with nothing but pleasure.

~*~

When you awoke, you were still lay in his massive bed, but your body was covered in a black silk nightgown and you smelled faintly of sandalwood and frankincense. You turned your head to the left and then to the right only to find that the bed was empty.

Where did he go?

You pushed yourself up to sit in the bed only to be met with the worst headache in your life. It felt like your entire body was pounding in pain and the drumming of it only kept getting louder. Wincing, you heard the handle click open on the bedroom door, revealing Seonghwa with an assortment of food, water, and a glass of red liquid. Wine maybe?

“I could hear you worrying from across the house. Trust, I’ll never be far from you. Now—I know you’re probably in a decent amount of pain right now, but it’ll soon fade in the next few days. Your body can still take normal food just not in large quantities. Here.”

His voice trailed off as he tore a piece of the croissant laying on one of the few small plates on the tray. Holding it up, he raised his eyebrows encouraging you to open your mouth. Obliging, you gently took the piece of bread from him, chewing slowly as you tried to make sense of your reality.

“Did you…did you turn me?”

“Yes.”

You nodded.

“So that means, I’ll be like this forever? Like you?…With you?”

You saw something like fear flash in his eyes for a moment. Or maybe it was regret?

“Yes. And if you’d like to spend your days with me then it does seem that way my sweet dove. If you feel otherwise I will not hold you back. Although, I will admit I will have a hard time staying away from you.”

He smiled, almost jokingly in a way that softened your heart.

This must be who he is behind that mask

“Forever with you doesn’t sound so bad.”

You blinked up at him, a smile spreading across your own face.

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

taglist: @blackswann-53098 @tunaasan @bellamuerte1987 @seonghwasstar

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stinkypeanutbutter · 1 month

Text

img silly sbg art class headcanons for the folks !!!

Guess who’s first .

Ben , obvi . Who did you think ??? Aiden ?? Loser / j

BENNY BOY :

Actually enjoys art class the most out of his other classes

Usually turns things in on time , but forgets the little things though like those stupid papers that tell you to copy and draw a nose 3 times

likes using charcoal pencils !! It’s his favorite out of everything , but he dislikes how messy it gets because the charcoal always covers his hands and arms .

not the best at painting , but he’s well known of his complimentary colors and what looks good with what .

Usually listens to music while he’s drawing if Taylor is busy or gone from class . He likes taking instrumental recommendations from Ashlyn .

Takes a drawing class , obvi , along with Taylor because he didn’t really want to be alone . Plus , She’s a nice buddy to have !!

TAYLOR !! :

Takes a drawing class with Ben as said before !! Whenever they have to pick partners , they go for each other the most .

she’s not the BEST at drawing honestly , but she takes it so she can study in machinery , like drawing and mapping out designs .

She likes using those kids markers , whatever their called . She prefers using the marker FIRST then going over it with pencil to really pop out the design . Digital art also works out for her , it’s one of her favorites because there’s so many options ( sometimes )

uses google for inspo or to copy certain parts down cause Pinterest is blocked on the computers and drawing gears is hard to do ( real 😿 )

Draws little cats on her work when she’s bored or smiley faces on Bens work just cause she’s silly ( trademarked smiley — Aiden / j )

Doesn’t have photography , but she does join Logan after school to help out with certain camera functions or just take photos of eachother for her memory book ( she has one , cannot tell me otherwise )

Also uses highlighters just cause . I mean they’re fun so why not . Her and Aiden share a bunch of random stickers that he got on like eBay for customization 😼

A ;) DEN !!! :

I swear I won’t repeat the same “ Aiden is totally good at art “ headcanon but …….. 😅😅

Went into painting just so he can have fun with the colors and , sigh … he’s good at mixing them . ( he’s not allowed too , but he makes it work out . Sometimes )

RARELY gets things done in time , like he’ll be doing anything other then drawing in class , yet somehow turn it in . Well , after a few weeks past the due date .

becahse of that , no one really knows what he draws but the teacher is impressed so 🤷

I like to imagine he has one other hidden room in his house , filled with unfinished paintings , sketches , projects , puzzles , yadda . He hasn’t really shown anyone where it is , or let’s anyone inside but has let Ben check it out a few times cause he’s special 🫶

Always does his projects in his room . Why ? Cause it’s bigger , more room to work , duh . Also , so he can BLAST music because music just gives him ideas of what he can work on ( projection go hard 🤟🤟🤟 )

he doesn’t really care what he uses , but he hates charcoal , opposed to Ben . It gets everywhere ( in a bad way ) , it’s dull , he hates having to blend it with those stupid paper things because they sound and feel gross , yadda yadda yadda . Butttt he LOVES markers and crayons . Colored pencils work if he’s feeling slightly unmotivated .

uses giant AF canvas’s cause more room to work plus more detail . He loves detailing the most random stuff because it all had to blend correctly , right ? 😼☝️

likes pottery , but he doesn’t like the feeling of it drying on his hands . It’s gross and crusty . Plus he got in trouble once for throwing some of it around the class lol

Totally draws on his arms with sharpie ( ashlyn tells him no cause poisoning or something but pshhhh what does she know ? He’ll still doodle on his pants ) .

Probably does Rubix cube art when he’s feeling extra silly . Also glues and sticks whatever he can find onto what he’s working on for pizazz . But he doesn’t really like anything he’s made so 😿

also the reason why he has so many unfinished projects is because woopsy doo ADHD . It’s always “ oh I should work on this one “ but then there’s “ but this once looks funner to do “ but oh then there’s a “ which one would take me less time to do ? “ and “ if I do this first will I have time to do the other one ? “ and either ends up doing nothing or multitasking .

ASH TRAY !!! :

Takes painting with Aiden because she really didn’t want to go alone .

thought about pottery once , tried it , hated the feeling of it getting under her nails and it kept drying up and she had to wash her hands constantly and it kept getting in her hair and it was a bad experience . ( more projection )

painting really isn’t her favorite , but she likes the look of the colors mixing and it’s kinda like dancing to her , with the long , sometimes constant movements and new variations . Look it just puts her in a slight trance .

doesn’t do well with creativity coming into play , but she managed to find a way with turning art into dance , like referencing other dancers online and copying their moments onto a canvas to make it dramatic or something .

Prefers prismacolor pencils over most things , sometimes joins Taylor and Logan after school to try out photography .

Sometimes she and Aiden would share headphones and put on a shared playlist or a podcast on spotify . They always bicker about it though because ashlyn skips through songs often and Aiden can’t sit on a podcast unless it’s playing somewhere background ( still working on this one cause would that work ? Sharing headphones and listening to stuff or would that be too loud cause I’m not sure )

for once please can she see what Aiden has done like he’s always on his phone or playing with another puzzle from his backpack how do they fit in there anyway just Plsplslpsopls he has a good grade in this class how he’s so confusing sometimes double U - tea - eph

TIE - LER !! :

Joined because he already does baseball why not choose something to maybe help him relax

Bad choice , does not relax him ( most of the time ) , can’t understand color theory ( same ) , ended up getting put into the same class with Aiden ( remember when Aiden threw pottery ? Yeah . . Also ashlyn is there that’s cool but still )

He still likes hanging with Aiden , he just won’t admit it and it gets harder and harder too when he keeps writing and drawing on his work ( and him too 😡😡 )

Pretty fond of water coloring , it’s one of the few things that he enjoys doing in his pass time . . . But he’s not that good at keeping the water to a minimum so it ends up dripping everywhere .

He’s not that good at art either , but he’s pretty good at poses , specifically ones he can remember like the “ batter up ! “ stance in baseball or his signature “ crosses my arms and stares at you begrudgingly “ . He’s REALLY good at that one .

He teaches Ben Guitar , Ben teaches him easier ways to draw . Not a babyish style , but just a simplified way to do something without putting too much thought into it .

he and Taylor team up in art projects , but not in class , at home . Ash and Aiden usually partner up in class , and since he and Taylor have seperate classes there , who’s to say they can’t help eachother else where ? Twin telepathy ! ( I think , idk )

Just finishes quick and turns it in . He gave effort , and that’s good enough . If he really wants to try and ‘ finish ‘ finish it , he will . Trust .

DIALOG(an)UE !! :

Literally the only one in the group who really takes pottery ( he’s lonely someone help him )

dw Barron isnt there . He got kicked out for throwing clay at people ( mostly Logan )

Actually really likes taking pottery , it’s fun !!

He makes pots for the plants back home 💪😋

pretty good at using the utensils , one of the only people the teacher can trust to use them correctly

the pottery wheel isn’t his favorite favorite because sometimes it spins to fast and clay gets splattered everywhere , but it’s better then starting from scratch , and turns out really nice when he gets into the zone or something

made mugs for his grandparents !! ( and the gang , which they all used theirs for many different things . They love it )

not that good at coming up with particular designs , so he usually asks for help . Doesn’t matter who , he’s open to everyone’s ideas 😋☝️☝️

takes a littttllleee while to turn things in on time but he’s a good student so the teacher doesn’t mind

IM DONE !!! I DID IT !!! Praise me .

WHAT SHOULD I DO NEXT ?? HIT THAT LIKE AND SURBSCRIBE BUTTON

57 notes · View notes

novoaa1writes · 10 months

Text

day 0

image source

pairing(s): softdark!natasha romanoff x gnc!reader, natasha romanoff & tony stark (platonic)

summary:

“I trust they were well-behaved?”

“You know they weren’t,” Stark disputed, letting out a derisive snort. “Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t let me fix that.”

Natasha shrugged. “Chemically-induced submission is all very well and good,” she mused, sounding vaguely preoccupied. You could still feel her gaze upon you, boring through your skull. “But I’d prefer to earn theirs.”

“Your funeral.”

Or: Natasha wants a pet. Lucky for her, she knows a guy who can help with that.

contains: non-con dynamics, pet play, dehumanization

[cross-posted on ao3]

word count: ~3,300

rating: mature

warnings: non-con dynamics, forced pet play, dehumanization, non-con bathing, referenced non-con body modification, referenced non-con medical experimentation/surgery, referenced physical and psychological abuse, discussions of administering post-op painkillers (morphine, oxycodone, anti-inflammatories, etc.)

notes: reader’s gender is not specified here, and as with every reader-insert i write, the reader is intended to be ethnically ambiguous! also, no use of y/n... i don't personally mind it much, but i understand it's typically preferred without

translation for russian terms in the end notes!

(previously named “build-a-pet”)

— —

Natasha had been on mission when she received the call.

Burner #1—professional access. A select handful of people had the means to call it. Phil, Clint, Nick, Maria. Pepper, too.

Burner #2—a separate, off-books agenda. Personal in nature. Accessible to none save for one individual.

It was the second of the two that rang to signal an incoming call.

Eyeing her target—Pavel Mikhailovich Novik, Bratyerstva head and prolific serial killer—intently through the tac scope, she brought the phone up to her ear and answered the call:

“Romanoff.”

“Gah! Always business with you, huh?” Tony Stark’s conversational—if not somewhat indignant—tone filtered through the speaker. “That’s no way to greet a friend.”

Were Natasha not otherwise occupied at the current moment, she might’ve scoffed. As it was: “A little busy, Shellhead,” she muttered, shifting her aim in time with Novik’s uneven stride as he made his way across a municipal street. “Why don’t we skip to the part where you tell me what you’ve got?”

“I’m doing just swell, thanks for asking.”

He was a short, stout man. Novik, that was. Flat-footed gait, the kind that had long since ruined the arches of his well-worn shoes. Broad shoulders; barrel-chested torso. Thick dark hair cut short on his scalp and, in the case of his square-shaped jaw, removed completely—but permitted to grow to damn near cat-whisker length everywhere else.

A wheat-link chain hung loose around his short neck; the chunky watch on his hairy wrist gleamed when it caught the light. Both solid gold.

He was dressed nicely enough in a red button-down that looked soft as satin, and charcoal black trousers with a matching blazer to boot.

Natasha had to bite back a disapproving hum as he strode into the establishment—a pub, no less—and hoisted himself up onto a barstool with little ceremony.

He was armed, of course, but only barely; a pistol in one inner coat pocket, a switchblade in the other. He also wasn’t entirely clueless, as evidenced by his company: a pair of stern-looking men who stood flanking him on either side, the material of their cheap polyester suits straining to contain their hulking figures, jackets bulging with poorly-concealed semi-automatic weapons. They watched the bartender like hawks as he set a clear bottle—Dębowa—and an empty glass in front of Novik before promptly scurrying away.

They turned their matching glowers away from their boss as he began to drink, surveying the small, dimly-lit pub with heavy-browed suspicion.

It was a clear message. A bit garish for Natasha’s tastes; but clear nonetheless.

As it was, she barely had to shift herself any further to catch him in her crosshairs through a series of high, rectangular windows lining the interior of the grimy pub.

All bark, no bite.

A far less jaded woman might have snorted.

A far less jaded woman Natasha was not.

“… Long story short, we’ve made some serious progress. I want to check in, though, if you could swing by for a quick visit. We’ve only got a short window before some of these alterations are irreversible. Plus, I figured you’d want to see them.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, her pulse thrumming wild and fast beneath her skin. “You figured right,” she managed to answer, her mouth dry. It was all she could do to keep Novik unharmed in her crosshairs, her finger from squeezing the trigger.

“So, when can we expect you?”

Natasha flit her gaze to the clock face fastened atop a tall, spindly spire on the nearest street corner, then back to Novik. “Give me six hours.”

— —

“Boss, three reports intercepted from secure, heavily-encrypted channels. All high-profile killings, all on European soil.”

Tony Stark, though intrigued, did not look up from the task at hand: himself perched adroitly along the rim of the tub, lathering your naked body in sweet-smelling soaps; you, slumped uncouthly in the cradle of the bath, glaring up at him with defiant eyes and murder in the tick of your jaw.

“Time window?” he questioned after a pause, lowering one sudsy hand to knead at your lower belly and grinning wolfishly when you couldn’t smother a quiet whine.

“Six days.”

“Locales?”

“Qormi, Malta; Kutaisi, Georgia; and Gomel, Belarus.”

Stark hummed in lieu of answer, a vaguely preoccupied look in his narrowed gaze. His large, calloused fingers didn’t cease their humiliating ministrations over your quivering belly, making you pant in an effort to hold back a low, guttural trill.

“In that order?”

“Yes, boss.”

You hated him. You fucking hated him.

“Walks like Natasha, quacks like Natasha…” he trailed off, giving your belly one last squeeze before withdrawing slightly to cup your other hip with his palm. “Probably Natasha.”

You’d only just begun regaining your strength following the latest procedure, though not nearly enough to do anything other than glare.

Stark slanted his gaze back over to you. If he was at all cowed by the force of your glower, he did well not to show it. “You’re adorable when you’re plotting my demise, y’know that?”

It took everything within you not to roll your eyes.

— —

“So, how was White Russia? Eat any draniki?” Stark questioned as he settled bodily into an armchair, gesturing for Natasha to seat herself on the settee across from him.

She did, her features calm and impassive. Her shrewd gaze flit to you once, but was quick to refocus. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“C’mon, give me something,” Stark carped, huffing petulantly. You couldn’t see his face from this angle, only the back of his head and a bit of bearded cheek, but you imagined he was probably pouting like a third grader. “For old times’ sake?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Guilty as charged,” Stark quipped. “Though, I suppose I can’t say the same for Novik. He didn’t even get a trial.”

Natasha’s placid expression did not falter. “Who?”

“You know what, I’m just gonna give you this one—”

“Generous.”

“—but only because we’ve achieved a mind-blowing amount of progress within the past couple weeks. Like, seriously: mind-blowing.”

You felt yourself shudder at the reminder. Progress, indeed.

“Oh?” Natasha queried lightly, brows raised. Once more, her gaze dipped to you… and stayed there.

You ducked your head and averted your eyes, cheeks aflame. You’d grown accustomed to being naked around Stark—mainly because you didn’t have a choice. But Natasha…

For the first time in years, you found yourself missing your long hair, the way you could cower behind it at a moment’s notice. Now, you were exposed. Vulnerable.

“I trust they were well-behaved?”

“You know they weren’t,” Stark disputed, letting out a derisive snort. “Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t let me fix that.”

“Your funeral.”

Natasha’s lips twitched, though she remained silent. Then, after a beat or two— “Your progress?” she prompted.

“Right, so, here’s the run-down…”

— —

You’d tuned out for the most part as Stark began his long-winded, vainglorious speech to Natasha about his—your—successes since last they’d spoken. Much as you understood it was likely prudent to listen in, acquire a little more knowledge on what exactly he’d done to you, you’d also been there long enough to know that it probably wouldn’t have made a difference anyhow.

Natasha would do with you as she pleased. Stark, too, provided Natasha was the one asking.

In the beginning, that intrigued you. Made you want to learn more about them and their dynamic; to understand why it was what it was. You didn’t get why Stark would run, jump, and heel for the likes of her—intimidation factor notwithstanding.

By this point, that intrigue had since dwindled, if not dissipated entirely. It was what it was; consequently, they were, too.

You were still angry and strong-willed and a far cry from broken, but you weren’t stupid, either. Just because they treated you like a chained-up dog didn’t mean you had to gnaw off your own limbs in a desperate bid to escape like one.

And, besides… it wasn’t often you got moments like these. Moments where you weren’t being poked and prodded and shot up with God knows what. You were collared, sure, your body riddled with all kinds of aches and pains, but none of it held a candle to the agony you’d known in days past.

Lost in your head though you were, months’ worth of training ensured you didn’t miss the moment Natasha called you over.

“Ко мне,” she spoke, pitching her voice just above appropriate speaking volume.

It was like someone lit a fire under your ass. The second you heard it, you shot up on all fours. Pain came fast on its heels, but you grit your teeth and bore it, swallowing down a cry as soreness shot through your hands—you flat-out refused to call them ‘paws’—like wildfire. Every heightened reflex stood on high alert. Your back, too, felt like it was on fire, spinal column alight with tenderness.

Still, it wasn’t nearly so bad as it’d been a week back, when you awoke in observation all bandaged up and so acutely in pain, you feared it might kill you. You also knew better than to dawdle. Clenching your jaw tight, you shuffled forth on sore palms and bruised knees. Your muscles burned.

You were grateful to feel the tip of your nose graze Natasha’s jean-clad knee, signaling a justifiable stopping point.

“Молодец,” she praised, her voice pitched an octave (or two) higher, and you felt like singing.

You even arched your poor, aching back in a shameless effort to attract… well, something, you supposed. Head pats, perhaps. An open-handed stroke down your spine, even.

Damn that animal, desire-seeking hindbrain.

Fortunately, Natasha seemed to understand. Her palm met the nape of your neck, slender fingers curling their way into the mess of hair at the back of your scalp—God, but that felt divine. A mounting hum in the back of your throat was all the warning you got before—

Fuck. Immediately, you clamped your mouth shut, and the sound—along with the pleasurable vibrations—stopped altogether.

Not again.

“Ah-ah-ah, puppy,” Natasha tutted, her free hand descending to squeeze your nose tight—effectively cutting off your air supply. And still, the other remained; combing through freshly-washed hair at the base of your skull, occasionally scritching your scalp with the tips of her blunt nails until the insides of your throat quivered and your jaw hurt from clenching it so hard. It was all you could do to keep from opening right back up and giving her a nice long purr. (Which, you’d deduced, was exactly what she wanted.) “None of that.”

She was using English now, you noticed.

And, just like that, the realization hit that she hadn’t been before.

Now, you could… you could hear her words and understand them, and from that understanding know their meaning. Before, it was like… like hearing the words and knowing what they were supposed to mean, then acting accordingly. You couldn’t take apart the syllables, the letters in your head, not like you could with English.

P-u-p-p-y. That spelled ‘puppy.’ When you tried to conjure the word she’d used to summon you over, there was just… nothing. A blank space. A short one, telling you you knew the approximate length of the word you were looking for, but… empty.

Your gaze darted to Stark, who just slouched back in his cushy armchair looking immeasurably pleased with himself. At any other time, the mere sight would’ve been enough to spark some measure of annoyance within you.

Now… Now, all you could feel was fear.

He didn’t do that, did he? He… he couldn’t’ve.

All the rest of it: the obedience, the meekness—that? That was conditioning, plain and simple. You weren’t exactly a PhD, but it didn’t take a genius to note down from the very start that some behaviors got you alone time in a small, dark room without food or water or sunlight for days on end, and others got you… well, not that. By a certain point, you would beg him to yell at you, choke you out, take you over his knee and spank your ass raw when you misbehaved; something, anything, so long as it wasn’t that. 2 times out of 10, he’d take you up on that. As for the other 8… well.

But this—implanting knowledge in your subconscious, tuning it to mimic compulsory behavioral urges, all while you remained none the wiser? That was a hell of a lot more complicated than reworking your spine, or tweaking sensory receptors, or even altering your vocal tract to make that obnoxious purr.

It was like he’d rewired your brain.

You didn’t even notice that you’d since relented: gasped out what little breath remained and began wheezing, all doubled-over, sucking in new breaths of air like a half-drowned cat. Though, you sure as hell noticed how that rattling, restless, vibrating sensation arose in your throat with every shuddering inhale; how, on every exhale came exactly what you’d feared—that pathetic, trilling purr. The one that warmed your body from head to toe while simultaneously making you wish you had never been fucking born.

God, but Natasha’s hands were like magic…

Your head still spun. Was it from the oxygen deprivation, or the realization that Stark had been inside your head? Probably both.

Terrified, dazed, and overwhelmingly confused, it took you some time to re-center; tuning back into Stark and Natasha’s conversation, if only to posture yourself accordingly. You could figure out the rest later, you reasoned.

“… The spinal alterations don’t inhibit their ability to stand upright, by any means, which is the exciting thing,” Stark was saying, damn near perched at the edge of his seat—almost vibrating with renewed vigor. Weirdo. “They just enhance their natural capacity to remain down on all fours and go about their day for extended periods of time: a day, a week… hell, indefinitely! Which, for humans, would be pretty much unthinkable. I mean, can you imagine?”

Without allowing a moment’s pause for Natasha to respond (which you’d come to understand was quite typical), Stark wasted no time in steamrolling on. “‘Course, the process of transplanting new bones was rather tricky, and we had to do a couple of them more than once. Dr. Cho estimates a week—at most—before they’ve healed enough to allow for more… strenuous physical activity.”

Natasha snorted. Her hand had long stilled its pleasant ministrations in favor of resting inert at the base of your skull, slender fingers curled loosely around your nape. You felt how they twitched and tightened their grip ever-so-slightly when Stark spoke of what he’d done to your spine. “Are they in pain?”

Funny. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought she cared.

Stark raised a brow. “Ballpark?”

Natasha must’ve nodded, or dipped her chin in confirmation, because a beat later, Stark spoke again.

“Imagine you got ripped open, rearranged, then stitched back up,” he summed up. “Twice.”

Dimly, it registered within you to be struck by his forthrightness, though you did not dare mistake it for empathy.

Natasha was quiet for a beat. “Sounds about right,” she said eventually.

“It doesn’t have to be this bad,” Stark offered, though there was a curious shift in his intonation, this time; a knowing and almost resigned look in his eye that made you wonder if he and Natasha had had this conversation before.

The way Natasha’s hand twitched, blunt nails digging into the skin of your nape, was answer enough.

“Were I their doctor, I’d be prescribing some serious pain meds,” Stark continued on dryly, making a show of tilting his head and gazing off into the distance as though he was deep in thought. “Morphine, oxycodone—“

“No.”

“—maybe a local anesthetic or two,” he mused, beginning to count them out on his fingers. “Anti-inflammatories. Anticonvulsants. Something for the anxiety, even—”

“I wanted a pet, not a vegetable.”

Stark’s lips twitched—though with exasperation or humor, you could not tell. “Do you realize how quickly even the most powerful anesthetics will metabolize through their system? They’re not human anymore, Red. At least, not entirely.”

Now, that piqued your interest.

“Neither am I.”

“It’s different for them. You know that. You got Erskine’s serum. Some unrefined bootleg variant, granted, but that man was nothing if not brilliant. Everything he touched, he turned to gold.” Stark spoke of him—this ‘Erskine’—as though he put the very stars in the sky. You wondered if he was truly brilliant, or just insane. You wondered if for Stark, there was any difference. “As for them… well.” He gestured vaguely towards you. “They got some anthropomorphic whack job’s bone marrow.”

You blinked. You got what now?

“He has a name, you know,” Natasha commented archly, the earlier indignation having dissipated from her tone.

“Point being—I’ve met the guy. He’s seriously unhinged.” He paused there, as if expecting Natasha to argue. When she didn’t, he steamrolled on: “I had F.R.I.D.A.Y. scavenge some digitized medical reports and psych evals from his time at the facility, along with anything else they could piece together after he escaped. Violently, I might add.”

“I won’t say he’s devoid of empathy, or a moral compass, because we both know that that’s not true,” Stark explained, then muttered under his breath: “Even if his senses of both concepts are seriously skewed.”

“Tony,” Natasha interjected, a note of warning in her voice.

“Just listen, alright? I’m getting there.” Stark huffed out a sigh, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “My point is that he wasn’t like that, at the start. He was no saint, to be sure, but he wasn’t like that. It wasn’t until they started a particularly ill-inspired series of ‘tests’—though I’d argue a better term would be ‘torture sessions’—to assess his healing capabilities that he really started losing his marbles.”

You head was beginning to spin. Your jaw ached from clenching it so hard. Who were they talking about?

“See, because his capabilities—extraordinary as they were—weren’t superhuman. They didn’t transcend healing itself, let alone make it any less painful to endure. In fact, I think they actually concluded that it was made more painful by his body’s ability to undertake those processes at such an expeditious rate.” Stark breathed out another heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he could feel a headache brewing.

He wasn’t the only one.

“He nearly went insane, Natasha. Joking aside, it almost beggars belief that he’s as high-functioning as he is,” Stark asserted, no longer pulling his punches. “I know you don’t want that for them.”

It was silent for a beat… Then two.

“Fine.”

Stark promptly quieted, renewed interest sparking itself alight in his gaze. “What was that now?”

“I said, ‘Fine.’”

A slow grin spread across his clean-shaven features.

“No opioids,” Natasha was quick to amend. “Nothing addictive. Just… anything that’ll help more than it’ll hurt.”

Silence for a beat. Then two.

Stark squinted at her. “You sure you and that bleeding heart of yours are up for this?”

Natasha’s grip around your nape tightened even further. “Shellhead,” she gritted out, her tone hard as weathered steel. Even the sound of it was enough to send chills down your spine.

Stark, in contrast, was not at all similarly affected. He simply tilted his head to one side and made a show of continuing to appraise her with shrewd, assessing eyes. Then, finally: “You should try yoga.”

— —

end notes: L O fucking L

also the anthropomorphic whack job they’re talking about is logan (wolverine) from x-men, in case you’re wondering

edit: i’ve since written a continuation of this, linked below!

translation of russian terms (with stresses bolded):

ко мне | ko mnye | “come”

молодец | molodyets | excellent, good

sources:

“organized crime in eastern europe” | to be so clear, i just made up “bratyerstva” from the term “братство” (bratstvo) which means “brotherhood” or “fraternity” in bulgarian, macedonian, russian, and serbo-croatian dialects. it is also the name of a ukrainian political party (ukrainian: братство, romanized: bratstvo), but it is not an actual belarusian word. it also bears some resemblance to братва, a slang term used to refer to criminal gangs in russia and other ex-ussr states. honestly, the closest you’d probably get to an actual word with this would be the polish “braterstwo” (brahterstvo) which also means “brotherhood” or “fraternity.” (however, in some informal contexts, the term “братерство” has been used in ukrainian dialects to convey synonymous meanings.) anyway, this is a brief snippet (~10 pages) from an academic article about organized crime in eastern europe, if the precedent behind all that intrigues you. i thought it was pretty informative!

white russia | another name for belarus, though there’s some controversy/nuance to that (and big surprise, it’s got everything to do with russia). this links to an article from euronews talking about... all of that

draniki | an immensely popular dish in belarus. they’re basically potato pancakes. several other european countries have close equivalents.

— —

next part: come, sit, stay

link to masterlist

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x gnc!reader #dark!natasha romanoff #softdark!natasha romanoff x reader #stuff i wrote

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ktkat99 · 6 months

Text

Y'all ever get customers you see once and then never again, but you still find yourself wondering what they're up to years later?

Some of my personal favorites include

(TW: Some of these will be gross. Sorry.)

*The super polite woman who asked and had to confirm multiple times that she wanted an extra ten pumps of flavor in her drink (the usual amount being four)

*Bolt the mastiff who walked himself down to us

*The super corporate-professional looking man wearing a completely dead inside expression and charcoal gray business suit that matched his Prius, other than the rhinestone decals that covered nearly the entire car in phrases such as 'Princess' and 'Daddy's Gurl'

*The straight faced woman who had a hairy sex doll in a speedo and covered in tattoos in her backseat

*The elderly man who shuffled slowly as he walked everywhere who one day just folded and held himself effortlessly in the most awkward, off balance, sideways leaning pose I've ever seen to stare at something. I had to move to see what was holding his attention. It was a woman's butt

*SANTA

*The pants-less woman who, when I gave her the total, reached UP BETWEEN HER LEGS and pulled out a very foggy and nearly empty gallon Ziploc bag, pulled out exact cash in quarters, and casually paid. I was too stunned to take my hand back and had to wash my hands

*Bobby Singer.

*The woman who wanted an ice cream cone for her 100th birthday. You bet we gave her the ice cream cone and a mini celebration at the window

*The man who effortlessly steered a FLATBED TRUCK with a car on top of it through our drive thru and didn't hit a single thing

*The poor tourists who looked miserable the entire time they were in our lobby, both completely decked out in merch for a major tourist attraction with a very similar name to our local one that was on the opposite side of the country

*The totally normal couple who came through who, when they drove off, apperently had a middle aged woman in their backseat on all fours baring her teeth and glaring at me

*The woman who got handed her order in the backseat of a cop car, because it's a small town and she told the cop arresting her she was hungry

*The woman who handed me a handful of broken glass as payment

*The college kid who fell asleep in his car in the drive thru, prompting another customer to freak out that someone had died

#fast food #feel free to add your stories #customer service #customers #every day was an adventure

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romanoffsbish · 11 months

Text

A Safe Haven

WandaNat x Fem!R

Request | Prompt | 3,060 Words

Warnings: Injured R, Descriptions of Burns/Stabbings

Natasha and Wanda had gone out for the day, they shared a short brunch before setting off to go shop. They wanted to be prepared for your return tonight with all of your favorite things. It was your first official mission as an Avenger after Fury gave you the final go ahead, you were so excited when you left this afternoon, and they wanted to make the return just as special for you because it was only fair, as you were the only light in their lives most days.

—

Then they got a call, and suddenly a concerned Wanda was falling from the skies, landing back at the compound, and running in a frantic way to get to the med bay. Apparently you were waiting there, and Natasha agreed to purchase your things then meet her back there in about ten minutes, but she promised it'd be less.

"Bruce, I swear to god I will shove that needle into your jugular if you don't get the hell away from me! I can do it by my fucking self!"

Wanda wasn't really surprised to hear you screaming, you were never a fan of the clinical side of things, nor were you one for allowing others to see you in such a vulnerable state. Except for if it was with Nat or Wanda, that trust took a long time to build, so she rushed through the doors, and made a beeline for you.

Red wisps wrapped around your hand right as you managed to steal the syringe full of numbing drugs from the nervous scientist, you scowled deeply, but your body also visibly relaxed when your lovers presence became clear to you. You instantly felt safer...

"Moya lyubov, we don't stab our friends."

You growled, "He was going to do it first."

Wanda smirked at you, eyes of an intricate green never leaving yours as she nodded sideways at the sheepish man, he took her hint with a running start. The doors swinging as he left in a rush signaled to you he was gone, "What a pussy," you grumbled and Wanda snorted, "Play nice, he was trying to help."

Honestly, if you didn't see him shift into a giant green monster with your own eyes you'd never believe that Bruce Banner was the Hulk.

"He knows better Wands." She nodded with a hum to follow. "Yeah, but he also knows if he didn't try he'd have me and Nat to deal with, and I hate to break it to you, but we're scarier."

You gasped and pointed the syringe at her now, "Take it back little witch." She rolled her eyes, and literally took it back from you. "Done." She winked, you rolled your eyes, and shrieked, "Not what I meant Wands, I am way scarier!"

"Detka," she chuckled with a soft shake of her head, because as scary as you thought you looked, you truthfully didn't. With furrowed brows, a crinkled nose and an exaggerated pout, what she knew was meant to be an intimidating scowl, it only softened her heart. So, as was an inevitability she cursed at you, "You look adorable."

You gasped again, this time more loudly, and the heatless words died on your tongue as you felt a surge of pain. The adrenaline had faded.

Your body fell back against the bed, wrapped hands pawed at the sheets and tears began to stream down your face. Wanda's teasing smile fell, and for the first time since she had arrived she witnessed just how hurt you truly were.

There was ash all over your maroon suit, the flecks of charcoal white covered not only it but your face and hair. Fortunately your hands were already wrapped by someone, but the burns you had sustained were everywhere.

Where the white ash didn't reside, jagged holes in the suit took its place, showing the brunette your third degree burns. Then her eyes trailed further down your body, noticing the scrapes and bruises, and stopping in post haste on the saturated red gauze wrapped over your thigh. Her stomach flipped, seeing you in pain like this always hurt the empath just the same.

"It's okay," you whispered through gritted teeth, forcing yourself to sit back up so you could try to comfort the witch who's lip was now wobbling, but her hand softly pushed you back into the bed. "No, it really isn't."

You should honestly be fine; this was a simple recon mission, medical aid made no sense.

Wanda reached for a white rag from the cleaning station, she softly wiped your face clean, then she thoroughly wiped an unmarred portion of your shoulder clean. She smiled down at you, her thumb traced over your cheek and you instantly nodded. Giving her the silent permission to give you the magical shot to numb the pain, her lips touched yours just as you winced. A momentum picked up as you felt the ice rolling through your veins. Your body feeling as if you could party all night when it really belongs in the junkyard in this state.

Being the responsible party the witch pulled away, smiles pressed lightly together as she hesitates to truly part, but with immense strength she manages. "We need to fix you up now my love, let me do what needs to be done."

Wanda knew she'd have to soften your resolve some to allow her to use her powers like this.

After every mission she'd rush to either your or Natasha's side, use her powers to heal you just a bit, then she'd spend an entire day sleeping.

Then one really bad time put an end to this for a long while. When Nat was struck by a bullet, Wanda suddenly collapsed as Natasha's lungs partook in a miracle as they did the opposite.

"Y/N, don't worry," she quickly shushed you. "I'm going to make these third degree ones, and then I'll stop. I promise I'll be okay, I had Tony make these bracelets for me that help me better pull my energy. No more collapsing."

"C-careful Wan," you stuttered, the heat rolling through your body was still intense, even with the Novocain coursing through you, so you're desperate for her offered relief, but you would never allow it if you thought it would hurt her.

"I always am," she winked at you, then began to remove the rest of your suit. Her body stuttered as she really took the sight of you in.

"Why are you in this state Y/N," she wasn't accusatory, just concerned. "Where was Steve and Tony?" Your eyes widened, because the truth would only lead to the other's demise.

You'd considered lying to her, but even in your delirious state you knew better than to try. Nat probably already got the ear full from Hill, so you knew Wanda would have found out.

"They forgot I was there," you whispered the embarrassing truth so quietly, but you knew she heard it when her jaw clenched. "They triggered the bombs on the floors above me, but then after I shrieked into the coms they stopped and Tony flew up to save me."

"This isn't exactly saving," Wanda sneered. "Those idiots are in for a world of hurt."

"Wanda, it's okay." It wasn't, but you wanted to pretend like it was and she could sense that. "You're right, it's gonna be fine, just relax."

Wanda placed a chaste kiss to your lips as her forehead leaned into yours. A shaky breath fanned across your face as she began to heal you, you could smell traces of mint on your lips, and feel the love she left behind in its place. "Just focus on me sweet girl, you're ok."

"Wan, you said just the burns," you whined, and the witch kissed your protests away as her warm, glowing hands hovered over your thigh.

"Look, I'm fine moya lyubov'," she hummed, her thumb tenderly traced over the new mark on your thigh, and you sighed contentedly.

Wanda saw you shiver, she didn't want to hurt you further with the tight fitting emergency clothes you all had in the medbay for moments like these, so she slipped her own hoodie off and with her magic she made sure it fit you in an oversized manner like you preferred. All to protect your body from being seen by the team.

"Can you stand now?" You nodded, and the brunette guided you onto your feet. Natasha burst into the room just as Wanda pulled you into her, eight minutes in total. The witch was hoping for more time, but you needed to eat, and the redhead will want her time with you.

Wanda pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, "I'm so happy you're okay detka," then she left an even softer one to your lips before she was gently exchanging you for the grocery bags. She gave Natasha a quick kiss, they shared a fond smile as they watched you burrow into your other lover with a swiftness. Then Wanda was gone to the kitchen before you could blink.

Natasha didn't mind the grime transferring to her shirt, she only smiled and buried her nose in your hair, she could smell hints of your apple scented conditioner beneath the layers of smoke and ash that settled onto the strands.

Natasha's blood boiled when she looked just beyond you and saw the tattered remains of your suit behind you. Most of your burns were on your upper body so she couldn't see the improved state, but she did notice the few on your legs, and knowing they were once worse was enough to make her rather homicidal.

Tony and Steve would be smart to find a safe house, because after you fall asleep tonight there's no one left to protect the assholes.

They were careless with your life, and to your girlfriends that's an unforgivable slight.

"Thank you for coming home to us detka," the woman held back a sob as she repeated her usual mantra for when you'd return from a shield mission, but the way her arms tightened around your waist gave way to her clear fear.

"I'll always come home to you guys Natty."

"I appreciate that." Natasha gently pulled away from your embrace so that she could cup your cheek and pull you in for a kiss that she poured all of her love for you into. "We love you a lot."

"I love you guys too Natty, even more than Taylor Swift." Natasha chuckled in disbelief, "Wow, you're clearly in a state of delusion."

"Let's go get you cleaned up detka." Natasha scooped you up against your weak protests. You'd lost a decent amount of blood with the wound on your thigh, plus, no amount of magic heals the need for rest after what you've been through. So this is really the least your lover felt she could do to play her part in your care.

After taking the elevator up to your shared room the redhead set you down on the counter in your en suite, then she filled the tub with scentless bubbles and lukewarm water as to not aggravate your already overheated skin.

You watched with your lip caught between your teeth as your lover stripped down to nothing. She was always something to admire, and you'd never stop. "My eyes are up here."

"I know, I'd rather look at your boobs," you admitted without any shame causing the woman to loudly snort, "Y/N, you're injured..."

"Yes, and horny for my girlfriends always."

Natasha shook her head at your truly heatless words, "You're insatiable darling." You only smiled in response, allowing her to gently guide you into the readied tub where she just as quickly settled her body behind yours for the optimum support. "Dirty, dirty girl indeed."

You huffed, a protest of sorts, but you were too fatigued to back it up with words. The silence slowly encompassed the bathroom, sounds of water splashing into the marble all to be heard as you rearranged your body to lay face down. Natasha frowned when you shivered, she tried to offer her own body heat, but she couldn't budge on the water or else you'd be worse off.

She hummed a soft tune as she ran her fingers up and down your spine with delicate strokes. Her hand began to kneed at the unmarred skin, hopefully helping to relieve the tension that still resided in your muscles from the long day.

Her hand eventually made its way to your thigh where it methodically paused. She softly ran her thumb over your new scar, face falling further as she racked her brain for an answer that only evaded her with logical thought.

"How did you get stabbed?" You tensed as she finally verbalized it, now remembering that the empty floor you were sent to had a straggler who graciously left his blade behind in your leg. He'd totally blindsided you, swinging it at you before he escaped down the fire escape.

"The information was faulty," your scratchy voice came out sounding pitiful. "The place wasn't empty like Fury had first relayed."

Natasha hummed in understanding, she lifted your face and kissed away the tears as they fell. No more words needed to be said, she could tell it was just a fluke in intel, and it infuriated her that they'd not be more thorough for your first time up against Avenger level threats.

"Natty, I'm really cold." You shivered more noticeably this time and she took that as a sign to lift your bodies so she could run the shower. You were likely having a reaction to the loss of blood now, body struggling to regulate after all its been through in only a matter of hours.

Natasha did everything, and to her surprise you let her, you were just so tired and pliant.

She gently sat you down on the bench in your massive shower, then she moved to rid your locks of all the debris. You leaned back when she requested, her strong arm held you up with ease as the warm, once clear water turned to black as it slid down the drain. The various debris getting caught on top of the silver drain gratings, and she soon grimaced as an entire chunk of plaster thunked against the marble.

Natasha waited until the water ran clear to sit you back up. You pouted when you saw her expression, it was pained, and you felt guilty. Thoughts of how you could've prevented this plagued you, truthfully you knew it wasn't on you. Tony and Steve made a massive mistake. Fortunately for you the redhead didn't give you long to overthink before she lifted you again.

You purred when her lips pressed into your neck as she tugged you into her embrace. Fresh hot tears cascaded down your skin along with the streaming water and you held her even tighter, trying to somehow reassure her that you're still here. Natasha held you close like that for an entire minute as she sobbed.

"I'm okay Nat," you whispered reassuringly, "I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm safe with you two."

You reached down, pulling her hand back up with yours to prove your words right. You kissed her knuckles with a tenderness only reserved for your lovers. Then you flattened her hand against your chest, overlaying it with yours for optimal comfort. Nat sighed as soon as she felt the strong thrum beneath her palm.

"Thank you detka..." You kissed her cheek and she turned her head fast enough to steal a proper kiss as well. To her delight you didn't try to pull away, but instead you leaned in and allowed her to deepen it without her asking.

"I love you," you whispered as you playfully smiled against her lips, "But I'm becoming a prune, can we get this show on the road?"

Natasha chuckled, "You're lucky you're cute," shaking her head as she reached for the first of many hair products you had. She set the bottle beside you, and greedily leaned in for another kiss. "Your wish is my command detka."

After Natasha finished you up she guided you to the door with a hand on your hip, and the other on your lower back for assistance. The redhead spun you, softly pressing you into the wall so she could have her last moment of alone time with you. She raised a single hand to cup your left cheek, she ran her thumb over a scar beneath your left eye. Memories of your first ever encounter, a hectic mission, flashes through the both of your minds. You share a reminiscent smile as you kissed her palm.

"I love you too," Natasha finally verbally reciprocates your earlier sentiment. It wasn't needed, her actions alone said it, but you never failed to melt when your lovers reminded you. You whined, your usual cry for attention, and Natasha pecked your lips just before opening the door so you could get in bed and rest.

When the two of you exited the bathroom you both smiled at the sight of your lover on the bed. The scene was overwhelmingly domestic. Wanda wore an oversized shirt of yours, with a smart remote in her hand, apparently keying in your favorite movie on Hulu, and you melted.

You leaned your tired body back into the redheads who leaned against the doorframe, eyes falling to the rest of the targeted display.

On a tray to the left of the bed was three plates full of your favorite home cooked dinner of Wanda's, and three cans of varying sodas. On the bedside table sat a burn cream, a couple extra strength Tylenol, and a glass of water.

All of that alone was enough to make you want to cry. So, when Wanda jumped up and ran to embrace the both of you the tears actually fell. Your lovers rubbed your shoulders and sides lovingly, depositing kisses wherever they could as they let you have a moment to feel it all.

In there arms was where you felt the safest, you never knew what the feeling of home was like until you met them; they were your physical embodiment of a safety net, and now, you knew you'd always have something to fall into.

——

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x nat #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wandanat imagine #wandanat fanfiction #wandanat fic #wandanat fluff #wandanat hurt / comfort #wandanat x reader #wandanat x female reader #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x you #gxg

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quaritchsbunny · 11 months

Text

Z-Dog/Zdinarsk as a Yandere (hc styled fic)

Wc: 4.9k (watch this flop because it’s so obnoxiously long idk why it just grew itself into a full blown pic)

Warning/Tags: yandere behavior, slightly toxic behavior, obsessive behavior, f!reader x zdog, medic! Reader, recom!reader, mature language, a bit graphic description of an injury including blood and flesh degredation, a bit of forced touch, i have no idea how actual injuries work please just go along for the purpose of fiction, zdog kinda being an asshole but she’s just been through it, unhealthy obsession, zdog is just in denial for half the fic, biting, enemies (kinda) to lovers?

A/N: My second fic ever and first time writing for a female character ahhh! I really don’t like the way I wrote this one but what can I say I really tried my best, I hope this is to your liking anon! Welcome to any comments and requests!

Extremity Scale : 3.5/5

Type of Yandere: Obsessive, Worshipping (unknowingly), manipulative, slightly sadistic

- Zdinarsk is what others would call a heartless beauty

- Although masculine with her striking mohawk and exhibits of tattoos that spread like blooms throughout her newly blue body, the soldier had been endlessly pursued by RDA officials, scientists, comrades, male and female alike despite her cold attitude

- And one by one without a clench of her jaw on the monotonously sweet bubblegum she always seemed to be chewing, she had laughed callously before turning them away, mind focused solely on her occupation as a recom soldier

- On the battlefield, she was ruthless.

- Shots were fired without a second thought once she held her aim, and whether it was a gun, arrow, knife, or chain in her hands, her cold amber eyes didnt allow for a second of compassion before she made her kill.

- Zdog wasn’t afraid of pain, her many colored bold tattoos on various parts of her body displayed hours of needles that had penetrated her with ink, yet she adorned them like it was a part of her.

- It was all these qualities that made her a worthy comrade to officials and authorities like Quaritch and her trust recom team, valuing her professionalism, tolerance and bravery.

- Her cool exterior seemed to be impossible to break, it seemed to be part of her personality, even her closest comrades in the squad never saw her portray any emotion other than callous joy at the aspect of conquest or the neutrality she seemed to carry with her everywhere.

- Because she never saw a need to feel anything other than that, what was the point? Any other emotion wasn’t going to pay her, being soft or sympathetic like the RDA did for her cruelty when it was directed towards the natives. And damn a soul who bothered to try to entertain her romantically, that shit didn’t touch her heart or her body in the slightest, she stowed away the young part of herself that dreamed of connection with a person that can understand her and instead suited herself to a form in which she didn’t care for the affection of others.

- It was nothing more than a waste of time to her, Zdog had considered emotions to be consuming and useless, and when she wasnt out scouting with the recoms in the thickets of pandora, her little free time was easily passed in the thick leather sketchbook, her fingers thoughtlessly skimming over the thick sheets, nails digging in the cursed piece of charcoal (it was the closest thing to a pencil, the sick RDA officials only had office pens as an alternative) as thick lines formed into her next tattoo design

- As such, the only emotion Zdog really felt except for callousness and the joy of victory was minor annoyance.

- Annoyance towards anything that wasn’t needed, such as the resourceless parts of pandora, the tears of mourning that came with death, the lack of efficiency from any comrade, such things only wasted time and got in the way of the ultimate goal

- Which was why she particularly despised you.

- You were a recom too, but not a soldier

- You were a healer, just as you had been as a human, you had died healing the RDA soldiers that were wounded in the war between the navi and RDA

- And for whatever reason, the RDA had insisted on adding you onto the short list of people to recombinant for a new blue team on their return to Pandora, arguing that your healing skills were essential to survival

- Why did the scientists waste their time and resources putting you into a recombinant body, and then waste the fuel putting you in a cyro and shipping you all the way to pandora?

- Why were healers a thing anyways? Zdog’s scars always healed on their own, fuck the bandage or the cream. The only way to truly heal, as learned from multiple experiences Z-dog had, was to expose the damn bleeding scar to the air and let it bleed until it learned to close its own weeping mouth. The body has to heal eventually, it's why so many organs exist just to keep bood pumping.

- So the first time Zdog had unfortunately stumbled across a carnivorous plants in the thickets of the annoyingly damp forests of pandora, skillfully targeting her right bicep as it sank its teeth into the beloved inked arm of the unsuspecting soldier that was leaning across a tree, it was to both her and your misfortune that the colonel had sent her straight to you with commands of healing and treatment.

It was the first time you have received a patient since your arrival to the new RDA base, and your eyes widened when the outraged female was thrown into the ward, her upper right arm’s flesh seemingly curving inwards like the chunk of flesh was deflated from the bite.

“Colonel, I’m fine, a couple painkillers and it’ll be good as new” she barked, fangs bared as she tried to keep in her tears of both anger and physical pain, tearing through her like wildfire.

Colonel Quaritch only threw you a look of firm command as he commanded “do whatever you gotta do to get her arm good, and take your time, she’s not coming to missions for two weeks”, the colonel turned on his combat boots, leaving you alone with the hysterical soldier

Zdog whirled angrily, shocked and disoriented as she had never been off duty for that long. Reaching for the Colonel to come back before her head reeled from the fresh shots of pain up her raised arm, her blood dripping onto the bare silver floors of the ward.

You acted on instinct upon seeing the spurts of blood, rapidly bunching up gauze as you pressed into the wound, sitting her down on the bed.

Zdog hissed angrily, her body thrashing as her arm shook due to the huge amounts of loss of blood as she cussed incoherently, channeling her anger in attempt to stop you from wasting her time

“It’s people like you that make injuries worse, you don’t need to interfere, the body heals naturally, that’s the whole purpose for recombination, not that you would know, fucker who took on blue to do absolutely nothing”

“You’re right” you say calmly “the body heals naturally, just like how it was also that carnivorous plants nature to sink its teeth into your bare arm”

The glowering female soldier says nothing as she glares back, watching you as you unwrap the towers of gauze upon her wound.

You ignore her profanity and swiftly inspect the wound after pressurizing the opening to avoid amputation, the ink from her spilling out and blending with the dark blood as it swirled on her indigo skin.

Zdog cursed her heart as it beat rapidly, trying to look anywhere other than your knowing eyes that meticulously scanned her marks of injury, reassuring that her sweat and rapid shaking was from the physical shock and not the way your lips pursed together in expertise as you reached to grab disinfectant

Without warning, you poured the disinfectant on her wound after retracting as much blood as possible, the burn of the alcohol hurting almost more than the damn plant’s bite as it spilled into the marks, cleansing the indents from the vicious carnivorous plant

However the sear the disinfectant brought was a tickle compared to the rapid fire spreading amongst her heart, pumping blood rapidly at your firm touch on her arm and the whiff of sweet cherry she caught as your head whipped to place the disinfectant back on it’s shelf and disappeared behind a cabinet, digging through creams and bandages

Zdog had told herself it was only a natural reflex, her body trying to react to to pain as it sped it’s organs up, swallowing thickly as the your sweet scent left her surrounding, leaning forward from her resting position on the bed to catch it again

“What a medic, abandoning your patient like that” Zdog scuffs, the popping of her bubblegum breaking the silence in the room

“Please lay back Miss Zdinarsk, rapid movement will cause more blood loss” you reply as you approach her again, her eyes immediately mellowing when your sweet scent invades her again

“No one calls me that anymore” she breathes out, biting back her huffs of pain as you press the q-tip of healing cream into the cleaned wound, circles rubbing along the raw flesh. “Z-dog, or Z works”

You nod, leaning back as you rest the q-tip on the silver tray as you reach for a bandage. “Well Z, luckily there's no signs of infection, I suggest regular icing to increase blood flow to the area and less intense use of that arm” you lay an ice bag by her non injured arm.

“For how long, this is the arm i shoot with, i’ve actually got shit to do”

“Depends on the speed of your muscle recovery, for humans though, it would be at least 3 weeks before you can do lifts with that arm again without permanent tissue damage” Your fingers worked nimbly, wrapping the bandage around her toned arm

Her relaxed form suddenly seemed riled up again as the words came out of your mouth, frown etching its way on her face as she growled. “I’ll be fucking damned”

“And because the bite had drawn your blood out of that part of your flesh, your tattoo ink had also leaked out with it, so that might be distorted, if not gone” the bandage was pressed with care before wrapped with another layer of gauze.

The cold buzz of the AC in the ward almost did nothing to combat the way her face heat up as your palm pressed the bandage in place with medical tape, before she remembered the proper emotion she was supposed to be feeling, rage, not whatever appreciation she was developing towards a person that only made her future work inconvenient by dramatifying the injury

“Listen Z, I’m only here to help, I know this is a frustrating situation, but the only thing you can do is to rest, and if there’s anything i can do to help in your recovery, please tell me” you say, your recited script towards angry patients such as her prepared as she kicks herself off the bed, stalking towards your form as you explain softly.

“Listen up miss nurse, I didn’t need this. I’ll be going out to the mission and I’ll be doing whatever I like with this arm that you only damaged more with your shit medical proceudure.” She growls angrily, the blood loss from the injury and your scent making her head spin with confusion.

Why did she have the urge to pull you into her, to feel your sweet scent closer, what is this strange undertone to her anger?

You say nothing as her non-injured arm slams her first into the wall behind you, her bubblegum scent ghosting over you as she towered, tail swishing excitedly as her tone said exactly the opposite things

“I didn’t ask for this, the recombinant bodies heal faster and I don’t need your false pity, and maybe you’d know if you actually did anything other than sit in your pretty little ward, so i’m gonna fucking show you now”

What she did next shocked you, it hadn’t processed in your brain that her single hand had somehow made it to pin both of your arms above her and you were only able to see the flash of her mohawk as a warm spotch bubblegum was spat out. And before you even had time to squirm in response, you felt fangs sinking into your blue neck much similar to the way the carnivorous plant had done to her arm, but with surprising tenderness

Zdog had no idea what she was doing, no. She did. She was doing this to teach you a lesson, to demonstrate how the recombinant bodies worked as you clearly had no idea. She wasn’t doing this because of how much she indulged in the fluttering in her heart and stomach when she tasted the softness of your skin, the addictive feeling of your flesh on her tongue.

No blood was drawn, her saliva connecting her to the bright mark as she pulled away, still glaring at you as she inhaled sweet cherry rapidly, savoring the sweet taste of your flesh and laughing against your collarbone as she heard your cry. Damned the way her body relaxed like a cat as she retreated.

“And you’ll be paying for that tattoo that i lost” she said matter-of-factly, boots sliding across the floor as she slammed the door to the ward, leaving you dazed, confused, and the mark on your neck burning as her brown queue swished out of sight, the ice bag chunks rattling like her heart on the way out.

You couldn’t deny that you had enjoyed your little scuffle with her, you couldn’t help it, feeling the magnetic attraction the soldier exuded from her built form and confidence. And even if deep down you knew it was wrong, you’d be stupid to report it to anyone in the RDA, the recom team was basically the backbone of all the physical operations holding the establishment up, they wouldn’t hear a recombination nurse out if it meant the best to them

Zdog returned to her quarters, jaw empty of the bright pink bubblegum that frequented her mouth as she rolled her tongue around her teeth, trying to memorize the way your flesh felt around them.

In her mind, gnawed a voice, telling her to apologize to you, to see you again, to thank you

Her head reeled with swirling new emotions that she swore were useless as she layed on her bed pried open her sketchbook, trying to sketch an image of you, memorizing every feature before she realized her dominant arm was in too much pain.

She huffed frustratedly, before throwing her head back to her pillow, and icing her arm

Whenever she had been injured before, her comrades had laughed at her weakness, taking it as a chance to demote her position or belittle her for feeling pain, along with the fact that she had been a female, it had caused her to be pushed around.

But you? No “get over it”s or belittling laughs, just words of genuine advice as your fingers pressed gently into her wound, smoothing over the years of mistreatment she had received, and whether it was rehearsed from years of expertise as a medic or genuine care, your sweet cherry scent made it all too confusing to distinct.

Now all that filled her head is the sound of your sweet voice as it reassured her and your form in the white medic robes that softly pressed against her cargo vest.

Reminiscing, she lifted the ice bag, tracing the bandage where your delicate fingers had graced upon her arm, and a smile made its way upon her face unknowingly.

A brilliant excuse to see you again creeped its way into her mind as she ripped off the bandage, admiring the way you had folded it intricately as she held it to her chest, her heart beating rapidly.

I need to see her again, I need to, and I will no matter what.

Deep down she knew it was not needed, but two weeks off with an injured arm called for routines out of the ordinary.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just do something useless for once, the anger would be just as time consuming as the weird feeling of attachment she felt near you.

She slept disturbingly well that night, the cloth held close to her chest as she dreamed of tied hair, marked necks, and sweet cherries.

Despite not having duty, the responsible soldier still awoke early to send off the colonel and the rest of the team, still holding back her complaints when the colonel shook her head, telling her she wouldn’t be any good with her shooting arm injured before he assigned her to stay at the base.

As soon as the recom helicopter lifted off into to pandora sky, she skipped excitedly to the mess hall, where breakfast was being served, cherry red gum popping in her mouth as she scanned the room for a particular blue medic

Her heart seems to sink stupidly when not a single other blue form was seen in the room, her jaw tightening around the cherry gum as the flavor seemed to taunt her

That’s right, this is what you deserve for being such a impulsive asshole, indulging yourself in emotions that waste more of your time, and wasting even more energy walking around to find her

You see the agile female’s tail swishing curiously from miles away, you approach her, squinting when you realize she doesn’t have her bandage from yesterday

Zdog’s jaw immediately falls slack when she smells it, her heart racing, reciting your name, as it sends her stepping back towards the source, almost knocking into your form.

“Back so soon?” You tilt your head towards her bare arm, scar breathing without the bandage

“Looking for you nurse, just needed another bandage, you didn’t anchor it enough and it fell off when I was sending the squad off earlier” Zdog says fluently, rehearsed words from her practiced scenarios ready for whatever response you have

You only raise your eyebrows, chuckling as you led her back to the ward. Not that you were really a faster walker by any chance, the soldier made a strong effort to take smaller strolls to admire your beautiful form from the back, the sweet swirls of tenderness and affection filling her as her heart pounded louder and louder as you sat her down to bandage her, almost 10 times as intense as the way it had felt yesterday

Correct to Zdog’s assumption, the scar had indeed healed a lot faster than you had expected, though her arm was still sore and healing, the wounds had closed up a lot faster than expected

You raise your eyebrows when you see that her scar has healed fast, leaning back as your eyes scan over it

She gulps almost nervously, voice coarse and low as she mumbles “what’re you lookin at, nurse, get on with it”

“Maybe you were right, recombinant bodies really do heal much faster, i doubt you really even need the bandage” you say hesitantly, as if questioning your own healing abilities

Zdog’s eyes widen as she reaches out for you, fingers around your arm as she tries to sound as threatening as possible, but her words coming out as pleas instead ``Nope. You’re a medic aren’t you? So do your job and bandage me, or else I can get you fired and on your way back to earth” she had plotted this with so much meticulous thought just to feel your fingers on her arm again! It surely can’t go to waste, she was gonna go out and find another carnivorous plant if she had to

You smile softly, chuckling and the sound goes straight through Zdog’s ears into her heart.

What is this fluttering feeling? Why won’t it stop?

“Where’s this compliancy coming from, you barely let me do anything yesterday, Ms. I have shit to do with this arm” you sit down and twist the cap off the healing cream, grabbing another q tip

Zdog rolls her eyes naturally, although she cant help but open it faster when she feels the rub of the soothing cream on her arm, amber eyes trained on your experienced movements

“If I really wanted to get back, maybe I should heal in the right way so I can do shit faster” she muses, fingers tempted to run themselves down your delicate queue and spine that was exposed to her as you leaned to heal her

You blink, sighing as you reach for the gauze “I think you were right though, maybe these procedures are only damaging it more, maybe it needs to just breathe. Are you sure you need the bandage?”

Zdog nods rapidly, her bold neck tattoos becoming a blur of black and blue as she spits out, trying to keep up her shell up and ignore whatever was swirling in her heart an brain “What do you think? Does that arm look anywhere near healed to you? Do you want me to walk around unbandaged and get a worse injury?”

It wouldn’t hurt to just indulge in the useless things a little bit, processes that only really waste time if it’s with you. It wouldn’t hurt to just have it on if it meant your fingers would grace my arm everyday

“Plus, I’m sure the only reason the lil nasty’s recovered this fast is because of your speed and expertise in treating it yesterday, don’t question your skill” The sentence hopped out of Zdog’s mouth almost unknowingly, and she almost wanted to bash her head against the wall. What did she say that for? You didn’t need reassurance, reassurance was for people who didn’t know anything, people who needed others to walk them along

Before her thoughts become more self deprecating, your laugh echoes through the ward, the cold silver and white walls suddenly becoming welcoming as you shake your head, anchoring the gauze in palace on your arms

“Flattering, but I really mean it when I say I think you may have been right about recombinant bodies healing faster” you lift your neck, bearing the mark that was violently purple yesterday, faded to a shade of lavender with the fang indents like marks of violet.

Zdog swallows, feeling both guilty and in a weird way, proud when she sees the mark.

“Yeah about that, that’s my bad, I was pissed and out of my mind because I’ve never been told to stay off duty yesterday, being out all day in that damp jungle heated my blood, and I may have been tryna prove a point about recombinants but that was completely fucked up and unnecessary”

she looks down at her lap, 9 feet body suddenly feeling like she was a young human girl in the marines again, disappointing her sergeant for not being as strong and capable as they expected

You set down the gauze gently and lean down to peer at her, her downcasted gaze unable to see the slight blush on your face “I’m not gonna say it’s okay to bite a medic that was trying to treat you, but you’re lucky it was me, I didn’t mind it that much, and it really did prove a point that recombinant bodies heal faster”

Zdog nods quickly, happy as she detected no anger in your voice. “Never trying that again for sure though”

“The world’s medical field is in danger if that's what you act like to everyone who tries to treat you” you chortle

For the rest of the day, Z-Dog spent time helping you maintain the ward as an extended apology to her behavior yesterday as she continued to indulge in the honey like emotion that came with being near you

- Through the next week, the ward seems to grow warmer and more homey every time Z-Dog visits (though by the first four days, her arm was completely fine, she found excuses) unknowingly, Z-Dog began to sink in the feeling of the previously useless emotions, letting it consume her until she was wasted in love

- Without knowing it, morning visits for rebandaging had turned into long conversations where Z-Dog healed more than the injury of her arm, but burns and bruises of her childhood and life as a female soldier that was constantly undermined, you saw that her hard exterior seemed to be a essential part of her that she needed for protection

- And to be honest, Z-Dog didn’t think really about what she said to you or how she said it, words just flew out of her mouth as the soft feeling of trust and affection drifted over her, your understanding gaze and comforting words binding you together like a web

- The bonding had quickly grown into something wordlessly essential and romantic, things Z-Dog always used to qualify as a waste, but now just like her cold exterior, the soft moments where your hands interlaced as she talked to you about her past seemed just as natural.

- She was almost always in contact with you, physically, whether it was the ways her eyes followed your every move or the way her hand was always by your hip, shoulder, head, it became a constant

- She followed you everywhere in the guise of protection in return for you healing her and never let her eyes off you

- And even when you were busy or actually did have other RDA matters, they seem to come cancelled last minute on short notice (because even the officials knew not to mess with a injured recom soldier that was defending the organization), and you couldn’t just leave Z-Dog alone, her words always seemed to have a way of wrapping themselves against you

- “You’re gonna leave your injured patient waiting alone like that when she’s in pain needing medical attention? Wow, I thought you cared about me”

- “You still owe me for the tattoo, yknow, so it might be less financially burdening in the future if you treat me well right now”

- There were many late nights where Z-Dog had opted to stay in your quarters instead of hers, arguing that she slept better and healed faster, her sketchbook filling up with doodles and intricate charcoal lines with details of you. Her beloved muse.

- Back in her own quarters, folded along her sketches of you were her past bandages, as well as hairbands she stole from you, keeping everything that you had touched or interacted with like a piece of magical artifact organized like a shrine upon her nightstand as she put them under her pillow, sleeping well to the thought of you.

- Two weeks had passed by and her arm was as good as new, as the two of you only grew closer and closer, the romantic attraction was undeniable, your blue tails tangled together as her arms sneak around your waist while you you documented her healing progress at the ward

- Until one morning the cool, brazen female soldier was gone, leaving you alone and confused in your empty bed before you realized that her duty had begun again. The past weeks had been nothing but a vacation and relaxation for her, and now that she is back on duty you could certainly expect to never speak to her again. It was all probably just a sort of short term association with her

- The day passed in a sort of a weird haze for you, strolling around the base without the sight of your certain badass soldier you were infatuated with

The night after her first day on duty, rapid knocks sound at your ward door as you’re working overtime, trying to distract yourself from your attachment with Zdog. Distraught and confused, you rush out of your seat in your white robes as you open it and see the female soldier, bright as ever

“Oh? Come to visit after ditching me this morning?” You say, a bit salty as you step back, suddenly noticing a bandage on her upper arm again

Z-Dog only looks at you, pupils filled with affection and joy as she laughs “Actually, I need help with my arm again”

You blink back an eye roll, used to the intentional injuries she sometimes did to recieve more medical attention from you as you wordlessly sit her down on the bed like many nights before where you guys had laughed, cried, kissed, and loved as your nimble fingers unwrap her bandage.

The white gauze falls away and under the soft glow of your examination table light and your eyes are busy scanning for cuts, violet reds or blood, or dark bruises that you almost miss it at first

Black, bold, yet slick and elegant letters curve around her blue skin, replacing the faded and distorted tattoo that had once been there, thick and bold as the ink is fresh, you can almost still see the puncture of the needles that she so willingly sat through and for hours before she had rushed up to your door, the shock in your eyes blurs your vision until you focus in and make out the letters of your name, with a tiny, clumsy heart identical that you had doodled on her sketchbook nights ago next to it

“Z- what is this” You breath in awe

“Well, you were the person that helped my arm heal the fastest, and parts of my heart as well, so why not dedicate the new area of skin to you instead of redoing a boring old tattoo” She chuckles matter of factly, pulling you into her lap as you continue staring at in awe

“Oh Zdinarsk” You gasp, tears blurring your vision as you look at the huge bold letters

“You never paid me back for the one I lost though, so how about a deal” She looks up at you playfully, true unfiltered joy in her once callous eyes

“Be my girl? My personal nurse, hm?” She asks cooly, thumbs smoothing over your ears as if her own heart wasnt pounding through the heavy cargo vest she wore for duty

And when you nod happily as she pulls you into a kiss of many to come, she realizes in the moment that yes, love wasn’t entirely necessary, and neither was her tattoo, or opening up to you, or the feelings that overtook her when she held you to herself proudly the next day as she introduced you to the squad, arm still firm around your waist as if to mark you for herself

None of it was necessary, and yes, maybe she was wasting her time, her love, her emotions. But even love was nothing more than a waste of her time, she would gladly waste it all on you, over and over again.

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newkatzkafe2023 · 3 months

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When when Dragon! Y/n (female plis plas plus) when at first they met Monkey King's they were like a pink pastel dragon but then after the whole dragon process they turn into a golden and white dragon??? Snsnsndkdkd

(Lmk Wukong) He thought you were the cutest thing he's ever seen in his whole immortal life. Looking all dainty and pink right in front of them. He was squealing so hard and wanted Cuddle you so bad. He loved showing off to you and getting you to get-go with his jokes. But One day some demons went in challenge to king himself But he wasn't paying attention to him at all. And when they try to go after you, he was going to give them their fight except he actually saw you grow bigger and bigger and watch thes you turn into a golden dragain. And seeing you blow fire scorching the demons into ashes. He watched you shrink back down and turned your attention back to him. Now Really interested.😍😍😍

(Mk Reborn Wukong) What the hell is this?! It's so tiny and Dainty and pink?! What was his master thinking bringing somebody like you? Along to the journey now he feels like he has to go and protect someone else. Oh that was until they were attacked by a group of demons going off His master and as fast as he can move. He couldn't get there on time until you got a Front of master tang and that's where he Grow bigger and bigger until he saw a golden dragon right The front of him and got to see you scorch those groups of demons like a barbecue. And as he watched, you shrink back down to size. It was at that moment he knew he fell in love🥵🥵

(HIB Wukong) His first thoughts were. What is something so tiny and harmless doing out in the open. There are monsters, bandits and other demons everywhere. And you're just out here in your own little world. Of course he feels like protecting you and that's all you guys got together. One day Hun Dun's demon goons were bother the two you. Of course, he pushed you behind him and began to fight them off and as he did. So you soon grew bigger and bigger or two you are a huge golden dragon. Everybody, including him frozen shock. As you made a fireball in your mouth and blast it. The Demon's away from the two of you I guess you can handle yourself after all, And it was your turn to protect him too.

(NR wukong) He knew there was something up with you. The moment he the first laid eyes on you. You are tiny and harmless looking. But there was just something off about you. Which is what brought his attention on you? In the first place, he's interested to know what your secret is. After spending some time with you over the months to a year. He finally asked you out on a date which you were excited about until you guys ran into some City demons now he would have took care of it right away if he didn't watch you grow into a 10 foot golden dragon and turned those losers into Ashes. Ha, I guess that's what your secret was also, I hope You know you're not getting rid of him any time soon.

(Netflix Wukong) He never squealed so hard at his immortal life. He just witnessed the most adorable little creature he's ever met. You're so dainty and flowery and tiny. He just couldn't resist. He needed to ask you out right away which was the beginning to your relationship. Over the time we've been together, you thought you could trust them with the secret of yours which you We're gonna tell him.We're gonna tell him before you guys got attacked. To buy some demons invading the village. He was holding them off from you. And you were worried that he was gonna get seriously hurt You quickly grew into your golden dragon form and blue fire towards the army of demons, turning them into Charcoal corpses. when you turned back Wukong's jaw touching the floor So that's what you wanted to tell him.

Feel Free to Reblog😇👍

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #x female y/n #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #cottagecore #pastel aesthetic

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cherryatombomb · 1 year

Text

Simon Riley headcanons

help girl this man is rotting my brain. anyway here r things that might not show up in my fics but i still think apply to him :] some of them are explicit autistic! ghost others are not but. he always is in my brain u get me. could be considered x reader bc i only mention s/o vaguely so go wild gang

Good with body language, figuring people out via how they act. Mostly good at understanding tone and such - but passive aggression is where he falters. He just doesn't get it mostly, struggles to register it. Surrounds himself with people who are pretty blunt so it doesn't matter, but oh man he hates passive aggression

Speaking of, he's so blunt. He just doesn't see why he should need to sugarcoat himself and will speak his mind all the time. Doesn't see it as being rude, he's just an honest guy.

Love language is physical affection he just has no idea. He's SO touched starved please hold him.

When he gets comfortable with an s/o he's just so cuddly when sleeping. Like, full on limbs everywhere, you have no idea whose limbs are whose. He loves it.

Favourite positions for cuddling are either his s/o on his chest, or him on their chest. Both becoming weighted blankets for the other, it's GREAT.

Also loves quality time, but when the person he's spending time with and himself are doing separate things in comfortable silence, it's so cozy.

The mask is a sensory comfort for him, that's why he wears it so often. He also doesn't emote expression-wise that much, which some people find disconcerting, so it helps. Mostly communicates physically through his eyes.

He's got a secret sweet tooth, and has multiple snacks stashes hidden throughout the bases he stays on. Gummy sweets + chocolates are his favourite.

He has dimples bc I think they're cute. That's all.

Good with kids but they scare him in the like "they're so sweet and I'm not sweet how do I handle it??". They think the mask is cool and just think he's pretty cool. Uses his shitty jokes for good if he's ever in a situation where he needs to calm a kid down, but makes sure they're more pg. Everyone thinks it's so funny to see this intimidating masked man make a joke abt fish being so-fish-ticated (sophisticated) when wearing bowties, but its okay bc it makes the kids giggle

Shows his affection in subtle ways when in public, he's not really a PDA guy. Like, pinky fingers intertwined, or feet touching when sat down. Not very obvious about it, but he's there nonetheless.

If his s/o is in the military he'll like do their armour straps before a mission, or clean their gun in between missions

Loves petting hair. It's so soft and feels so nice under his hands ohh he loves it. Lay on him and let him pet ur hair and he can die happy

Has a list of names of people who his s/o has mentioned hurting them. If they ever show up this boy will just glare the Whole Time.

Speaking of he's so protective but tries not to be overbearing with it. Like if someone's hitting on his s/o he trusts them but will just loom behind them to see if they need help. Waiting for them to either leave, or for his s/o to sic them on him like a guard dog, bc lets be real, that's who this man truly is

Loves picking his s/o up he's so strong so he can pick up most people. Only done in private time but will sling his s/o over his shoulder or stuff bc he loves hearing their response it's so fun

Good at art, but only really does charcoal landscape paintings. Very protective over this because he's kind of embarrassed about it but he finds it comforting

Not really a gift giver, he mostly just gives people money so they can buy it themselves because he's very practical.

For those that are close to him, though, I can see him making some effort - a personal sentimental gift alongside the money

Gifts his s/o one of his knives so they can protect themselves. Will teach them how to use it if they aren't military

Likes to fuck with new recruits who are scared of him because he thinks it's hilarious. This man is a MENACE

Cat person for SURE. They just get each other. The need to fuck with people and seem kind of hostile but also love affection on their terms? That's so Ghost.

#i love him so dearly #i wanna give him a little kiss #wrote this bc i had the sudden urge to whilst writing another ghost fanfic LOL #i mean hey if u wanna preview of my next fic in the 'tism ghost series #itll be him getting unmasked by a rookie whos bein a dick #so look forward to that #so much hurt/comfort gang #call of duty #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley headcanons #ghost headcanons #could be read as x reader #but i wont tag it as that bc i dont wanna clog the tag up :]

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viatagrinner · 1 year

Text

Gilbert von Obsidian. I want to know the secret you're hiding. His POV.

Human greed and soft-heartedness are the cause of mistakes.

What is rotten cannot be restored.

If left unchecked, the rest would rot in a chain reaction.

So, I'm going to clean it up.

Wipe it clean, don't bring dirt into the world.

Gilbert: So? How were you guys going to turn on me?

There was a sea of blood.

The corpses of beasts, not only human beings, but also greedy beasts, are piled up on top of each other.

The only ones standing upright were me and the helper in the charcoal-black hood.

Picking up the sword lying on the ground, I slashed the only survivor, the beast, in the shoulder.

(Dirty.....)

Man: Oww... I... I don't know anything.

I cut the shoulder from the other side and kicked it to the slightly muddy ground.

Gilbert: Then you want me to guess?

Gilbert: You guys heard that the Beast the Conqueror has a "favorite" in Rhodolite.

Man: ....Aaah....

Gilbert: With her, the cold-blooded royalty might listen.

Gilbert: You give me back the title you deprived me of, and the woman will be safe and sound, I'll give her back to you... You were about to say something like that.

Gilbert: In your scary dreams you launched one of these parasites into Rhodolite, didn't you?

Man: Oww.... Help me....

Gilbert: Ahaha, you idiot...

Gilbert: ....Do you think you're allowed to breathe after messing around with my prey?

Ruthlessly swinging my sword.

Spatter stains clothes and face.

The beast didn't move anymore.

(Really... How many people I've killed.)

Exactly one year ago I was visiting in Rhodolite and met Miss Bunny.

The fact that we were good friends, if only for a short time, spread everywhere, and politicians deprived of their seats during the purges came for Miss Bunny.

(I knew it would happen back then.)

I drop my sword and walk through the pool of blood.

Gilbert: ...Roderich...Put it all away. It's a purge on the emperor's land.

Roderich: I'll tell Michael....

Gilbert: No need...

One of the agents in Rhodolite is now a regular at Miss Bunny's bookstore.

When "he" was not with Miss Bunny, he was always in charge of escorting the hare and solving any problems that arose.

(But now...)

Gilbert: ...I'm going to Rhodolite.

Roderich: I see. .... This is the first I've heard of it, though.

Gilbert: You're lucky you got to hear it.

Roderich: ........

Gilbert: Here's what I'm going to do...

While I'm gone, you'll look after yourself.

I left, ignoring the assistant, who couldn't find the words.

(I wonder if Miss Bunny is feeling well.)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Waiter: Thanks for the wait. It's a birthday cake.

Meeting Miss Bunny for the first time this year, I realized that nothing has changed.

Under the pretext of "finding someone," I drive her around and get an unexpected surprise at the cafe we came to.

(I never thought you would remember my birthday.)

In front of me was a pure white cake decorated with sugar confectionery roses.

Gilbert: ...I knew you were secretly ordering something.

MC: It's your birthday, isn't it?

Gilbert: You remembered.

MC: In many ways I'll never forget it.

(Because I teased/mocked you last year.)

Since I used my birthday as an opportunity to drag Miss Bunny into a cauldron of anger, it should never be a good memory.

Gilbert: ...You never learn, do you?

Gilbert: Just like last year, I could betray you, right?

MC: Then please don't betray me. This cake is a masterpiece, right?

Gilbert: Ahahaha, are you going to use it as a bribe?

MC: That's not what I meant, but... at least let me celebrate your birthday in an honest way.

Gilbert: Hey, I feel sorry for you, partner.

(...As usual, you are so accomplished that I want to vomit...)

(I've exposed her to so much malice in the Court, even if only for a while, and I can't believe that it hasn't changed her at all.)

It's disgustingly rare.

I like her so much that I have to force myself to come and see her in this way.

Gilbert: But I will accept Miss Bunny's good will.

(I'm not going to use the celebration this year.)

I grabbed the fork I had in my hand and held it out to Miss Bunny.

MC: What's that for?

Gilbert: Just wait for "Yum"?

MC: ....I don't like it.

Gilbert: Oh, I have to tell you again, don't I?

(...She's worth the teasing.)

Miss Bunny, who had a frankly suspicious attitude, eventually took a piece of cake with her spoon and put it in my mouth.

(But the amount of harassment is so great that it's almost like being harassed.)

I'm enjoying the sweet taste.

MC: So, how was it?

Gilbert: One more bite.

(Last year, on my birthday, you always seemed to be wary of me, ...but this year, it doesn't seem that way.)

She's shy, worried, but acting/deciding.

(While Miss Bunny was in court, we became friends.)

(...Poor thing.)

With sincere sympathy, I continued to eat the cakes that were brought to me one by one.

Gilbert: I wasn't interested in sweets before, but I tasted them in Rhodolite.

Gilbert: Now I like sweets. It's your fault, isn't it?

MC: ...I'm glad you liked it.

(....Well, I guess it tastes better because you're here.)

When it comes to food, the people you spend time with are more important than the food.

A recent domestic dinner with the aristocracy tasted nothing at all, no matter how much I ate.

(That alone was already worth a visit to Rhodolite.)

(..... Well, I need to hurry up with my original business.)

Even when I was teasing Miss Bunny, my mind was always directed to the street. So I noticed it right away.

(The man I was looking for.... Found.)

Miss Bunny must have noticed it, too, and looked at me puzzledly, as if to ask: "What are you going to do?"

Gilbert: ...If you've finished your meal, let's go somewhere else.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Bar.

A man was drinking alone.

MC: He's drinking alone?

Gilbert: Yes....He must be very lonely.

We sit in the blind spot while Miss Bunny drinks juice.

(Although I wanted to enjoy my birthday more.)

Miss Bunny breathes nervously.

She's not supposed to know anything about the circumstances, but she can guess with her keen intuition.

(It's about time for the medicine to kick in... let's get down to business.)

Gilbert: Hey, Miss Bunny. Have you noticed anything unusual around you lately?

Honest Miss Bunny had an answer on her face before she could put it into words.

Gilbert: If you have something to say, then say it.

MC: I think it's just my imagination, but sometimes I feel followed.

MC: On the way home from the bookstore... I turned around and there was no one there.

(It's not much better than third-rate when an amateur can sense your presence.)

Gilbert: Hey, is that a stalker?

MC: ...What do you think?

Gilbert: You really are adorable, aren't you?

MC: What?

Gilbert: Yeah, probably the kind of person who subconsciously puts all men down.

I said it with the utmost sincerity, but the little hare raised an eyebrow and made a difficult face.

(.....Too bad.)

Gilbert: It's okay. I don't think you'll ever feel the gaze again.

MC: Why?.....

MC: ....Oh....

Gilbert: Because you're my only catch/prey.... right?

Miss Bunny's body tilted as if something had broken.

I reached out so she wouldn't hit her forehead and gently lowered her face to the table.

(I bet you'll despise me when you wake up.)

(....Sorry/ Will you forgive me?)

I get up and have a conversation with the guest sitting next to me.

Gilbert: Just keep an eye on her.

Michael: I'll deal with "him..."

Gilbert: I want to do it.

I smiled, grabbing my cane.

As I trudged through the bustle, I put my hand on the shoulder of the "beast," who was drinking alcohol alone behind the counter.

Gilbert: I should let you know who you're trying to get.

When our gazes met, the beast dropped his glass and turned deathly pale.

Gilbert: ....The ex-count?

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

The frightened beast took refuge in a deserted alley, so a "purge " was over quickly.

However, I can't go back to Miss Bunny in dirty clothes, so I go straight to the Court.

I could have stayed in my room, but I unconsciously went to the chapel because.

That's probably why it was unexpected, but I expected it.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

MC: Prince Gilbert... You are cruel.

When the chapel door opened and a faint light entered, the corners of my lips lifted unconsciously.

Gilbert: Ahaha, sorry?

(You may or may not have come... the odds were 50/50, but did you brave it?)

When I turn around, Miss Bunny raises her eyebrows and looks at me.

MC: Prince Gilbert, why did you put me to sleep?

Gilbert: Of course, because it wasn't convenient.

MC: What do you mean?

MC: Prince... Gilbert...

Fear, as if she suddenly realized something, appeared in her clear eyes.

Gilbert: ...Have you noticed? I changed my clothes properly.

(I'm sure it doesn't smell that bad, ...but maybe I'm just so used to it that I don't notice it.)

MC: What was wrong... with this man?

Gilbert: Some things are better left unsaid.

(You don't need to know anything.)

The fact that Miss Bunny is still haunted by a lot of evil people, she doesn't need to know that I keep eliminating that malice.

(I take advantage of the malice necessary for "judgment," but everything else is just a hindrance.)

Everything I wanted to hide was hidden behind my smile.

Gilbert: I paid you back for your good will, okay?

MC: ...Why did you involved me?

MC: If you were looking for someone, you could have done it alone.

Gilbert: Because it was my birthday.

Even if it sounds stupid, I mean it.

Having had a taste of last year's birthday, the bad guy came again this year.

MC: ...?

Gilbert: I'm here in Rhodolite to run some errands, so my time is limited.

Gilbert: If you didn't accompany me on my errands, I wouldn't be able to spend time with you.

Gilbert: I'm a bad guy. That's why I don't mind choosing to enjoy myself even if it hurts you.

MC: ......

Gilbert: I was waiting to see if you would get in, but I froze.

Gilbert: If that's all there is to it, I think I'll just go.

(I don't think you'll celebrate with me like this.)

Miss Bunny, looking frightened, hurt, and lost in emotion, closed her eyes.

I turned my back on that figure and walked toward the doorway.

(....... I think I was expecting too much, because this might be the last year.)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

*the sound of a cane on the stone floor*

Every time the sound is heard, Miss Bunny's presence disappears...

...It was destined to happen

Gilbert: What?

I feel heat on my back and stop.

When I turn around, Miss Bunny was clinging to me to stop me.

MC: Even though I told you not to betray me...you really are the worst.

Gilbert: No, I didn't promise not to betray you, did I?

MC: Yes, you did. ...I didn't really believe in it either.

Gilbert: Ahaha, you're smart, aren't you?

MC: Other than that, I'll also say...

MC: Happy Birthday...

(............)

(...Did you hear the voice of my heart?)

"Congratulations" Miss Bunny seeps into my cold body.

Gilbert: You have a heart of steel, don't you?

MC: No, it doesn't. It still hurts so much I feel like I'm going to vomit blood.

Gilbert: And you're celebrating me?

Gilbert: I may have just done as bad a job as you can imagine.

MC: I try to believe... only what I see.

MC: All I saw today was Prince Gilbert, who seemed to enjoy himself from start to finish.

MC: The feeling that you stopped in Rhodolite and wanted to meet me was genuine too, wasn't it?

Gilbert: ......

(Sounds like fun...)

(.....Oh, that's how it looked.)

MC: Even though he's a great villain, that feeling made me happy...

MC: I just wanted to congratulate you.

(You don't know anything about what I'm hiding.)

This is why I don't like beautiful/pure things.

Gilbert: ...In fact, you're so stupid I'm going to be sick.

(I know it's stupid, but ...... I'm glad I came to reach you under a weird pretext.)

For some reason my body seems warmer than usual.

Ms. Bunny was quiet for a moment, and then she opened her mouth, as if making up her mind.

MC: Prince Gilbert..... Who am I to you?

(That's sudden. Did someone say something to you? ....)

(But I can give you that answer in a minute.)

From the "old days" [!!??] to the present, the position of Miss Bunny has not changed.

Gilbert: .....Last hope, perhaps?

(Though the day will never come when you'll know the meaning of that word.)

Gilbert: By the way, by the looks of it, you're going to congratulate me, right?

I turned, slipped out of Miss Bunny's arms, and smiled as usual.

If she was going to celebrate, I wanted to blow off some of the gloom and doom.

Gilbert: How are you going to celebrate this year? Of course, you won't run away, will you...?

MC: Well, we just celebrated...

Gilbert: Birthday's not over yet, okay?

MC: What do you want?

Gilbert: I'm freezing.

When I spread my arms, Miss Bunny was clearly embarrassed.

But I'm not going to back down.

(You're wondering how this could be a birthday present?)

(But...it will.)

I stopped loving people a long time ago.

I don't love anyone now.

Even beasts like me sometimes lack warmth.

Only the brave and good-natured Miss Bunny can embrace the beast that is feared by all and even smells of blood.

(I wouldn't normally ask for this.)

After some hesitation, Miss Bunny frightenedly jumps on my chest.

(......Ah, it's warm.)

(Thank you, Miss Bunny.)

I wonder if the smile I got was a real laugh.

(I'll take good care of it as my "last present"...?)

Gilbert's Masterlist

#I'm crying...#I take it this is the end of the alternate story only the main route is next...#A sea of tears awaits us #ikemen prince #ikemen ouji #ikepri #ikepri translation #ikemen gilbert #ikemen prince gilbert #ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian events #gilbert von obsidian

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