#alongside all the stupid bits they did they really gave us all some good life lessons

[spooky-all-year-round]

If Things Were Different.

Sebastian x Female!Mc/reader

TW: ANGST, major spoilers for late game in Sebastian's story, swearing, Sebastian being an ass (but he feels bad), hints at death, violence, self hate, self doubt, the reader is pissed, you are MC

Dust and debris everywhere, you were sweating from all the fire spells cast to combat the inferi and from the running to doge spells from Solomon. You were kneeling on the ground, trying to catch your breath. Sebastian was to your left and winding up for a spell at Solomon, the lightning energy around his wand gave away his intentions. You cast a quick depulso on Solomon, and in your panic the spell was strong enough to knock him back and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Sebastian's spell hit the wall opposite of him, leaving a large crater in it. A few pebbles actually made it far enough to hit you.

"Sebastian what the hell was that?!" Your voice echoed in the cave. Your blood was boiling. He promised! He said no more! How could you have trusted him after he went back on his word before? You were too angry for tears, pure rage had you trembling as your glare met his.

"Why did you stop me? He attacked us! He was going to turn us in!" The look in his eyes made it seem like he was going to curse you next. His non-wand hand was clenching and unclenching. He didn't understand, how could you have stopped him? He was saving you BOTH. Soloman had to be stopped, there was no other way.

A quick glance at Solomon confirmed he was still breathing. You gripped your wand a bit tighter and looked back at him before answering, "I couldn't let you do that to one of your only family members left! You would've -"

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS GOING TO DO!" His voice was so loud it had your ears ringing. He was blinded by anger over Solomon attacking you both, over the hatred of Soloman stopping his efforts to save Anne AGAIN. The end of his wand was crackling with sparks, his overflowing emotions seeping out through it in the form of pure magic.

"Sebastian please, if I hadn't done that you would've been haunted by your actions forever." You were trying to reason with him, but you should've learned there is no reasoning with him when he's angry. Let alone this angry.

"I thought you were just ignorant, running around with goblins and playing the hero! But now I know you're down right FUCKING STUPID! YOU THINK NOTHING CAN HARM YOU! THAT PEOPLE ARE INHERENTLY GOOD! HE WOULD HAVE GLADLY SEEN YOU DEAD, OR WORSE IN AZKABAN! YOU COMPLETELY DAFT WOMAN." His chest was puffed out, teeth bared and eyes wild.

That struck you. Hard. Playing the hero? Did he think you did what you did for some kind of praise? That you weren't a kind person but just some attention seeking girl wanting a bit of fame? He always praised you for how smart you are but now you were stupid for saving a life? Where the hell did he get off thinking that?! Tears full of anger and pain started filling your eyes.

His words seemed to hit him when he saw the tears gather in your eyes, the look of pure hatred on your face made him sick. "Wait-" but before he could finish Anne came hobbling in, she took out the rest of the inferi with one amazing and powerful fire spell before falling to her knees. Sebastian could only stand numbly as he watched you conjure up stretchers for Anne and Solomon. You got them situated before rushing out, floating the two of them alongside you.

He had done it again, and even worse this time. He allowed his anger to overpower his rational thoughts and he hurt you again. He didn't really think that of you, Soloman might have tried to get you sent to Azkaban but he wouldn't kill you. Another hit. He almost killed his Uncle. You stopped him from murder, and in return he insulted and screamed at you. Merlin, what has he done? He had to make it up to you. He had to apologize, but he had done that before, no he needed to really change. He had to do something big that would prove that he was done with dark magic, and that he never wanted to get this close to being a murderer again.

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It had been weeks, you were avoiding him like the plague. You wouldn't even look at him. He didn't know how you would disappear so quickly or where you might be even going to. Ominis wouldn't tell him either, but Sebastian didn't know if that was to help you or out from really not knowing himself.

It seems that you told Ominis and Anne about the fight that broke out with Solomon. But you left out Sebastian's attempt at murder and skipped straight to you sending Solomon hurdling into the wall out of fear. Solomon seems to have forgotten about the whole incident and was told by Anne and Ominis that he was hit by a stray depulso on accident and hit his head on the side of his home causing a bad concussion. Sebastian sent a letter to Anne swearing that he would never delve into the dark arts again and that he would prove it. He just wasn't sure how. But the answer came to him through Ominis, bless him.

"Don't tell me you're reading that book again." The look of anger and disgust on Ominis' face was evident without Sebastian even looking up.

"I've never read this book before mate. What book are you talking about?" He was genuinely confused. He was looking at potion ingredients and writing down ones that might mix well together to cure Anne's different symptoms, he just needed the one thing to tie them together according to Golpalott's third law to making an antidote. Something new, something no one had tried.

"Don't play dumb Sebastian, the book of dark arts you've been obsessing over!" Ominis had walked over and ripped the book out of Sebastian's hands. But a brief pass over the page with his wand had his eyebrows raised. As if he didn't believe it, he closed the book while using his finger to keep track of the page and waved the wand over the front. "This is...just a regular potions book."

"Yes, I told you I was done with that other book. Look!" He swung himself out of bed and walked around to the foot of his bed. He knelt down and opened his truck before digging straight to the bottom before wrestling the damned thing out from it's hiding place. "I've had it at the bottom of my trunk. I haven't touched it since! I don't want to even look at it." It was true, ever since that day he didn't want to even think of that book. But he didn't know what to do with it so he just buried it in the trunk, hoping to find a permanent place later.

"If you don't want it, then why keep it then? Why not just rid the world of that accursed thing and burn it to ashes?" Ominis sneered at him. He was frustrated, he couldn't believe Sebastian didn't want the book. Not after everything. So if it was true, why was it allowed to continue to exist?

Sebastian blinked several times. Why *did* he not just burn it? Why hadn't he even thought of that? He wouldn't have to find a hiding place. He wouldn't have to worry about it being found. No one could ever be tempted by it like he had been. When he told Anne he had given up the dark arts she was so excited he doesn't think she even thought about destroying it. But now he had the perfect plan on how to prove to you and Ominis that he was no longer going to practice the dark arts! But he needed a bit of help, " Ominis, you're brilliant! I need your help!"

Ominis have him an amused look. "With setting something on fire? I'm sure your well practi-"

"Not with setting it on fire you prat! I need you to get her to meet me in the undercroft. All three of us together." The hope that was reignited in Sebastian fizzled a bit at the small frown that graced his friend's lips.

Of course Ominis knew who he was talking about, getting you to even look at him had become Sebastian's new obsession. Anytime Ominis spent more than 5 minutes with you, Sebastian was on him. Asking how you were, if you said anything about him, if you had forgiven him. It drove Ominis crazy. Yes, he wishes you two could be friends again. Yes, he wanted things to return to normal. But he stood firm on not rushing or pressuring you into forgiving Sebastian. You wouldn't even talk about him anymore, not since the night Ominis found you in the Room of Requirements crying your eyes out. It was then you had admitted to Ominis what really happened, and you had begged him to promise to never mention it to Sebastian, for him to please act like everything was normal. He held you for hours as you had talked through everything and continued to hold you until you had calmed down. He agreed to the promise and was true to his word. But that's when Ominis noticed how quiet Sebastian had become. How now it wasn't Sebastian staying up and Ominis finding him after having a nightmare. Instead it seemed like Sebastian was having them too.

"I don't think she would agree to that, and I will not lie to get her to meet you." His frown deepened, as he ruled out that idea before Sebastian could even pose it.

"You don't have to! Just tell her I have something very important to show you both, and that it will be a good thing. That I want to make amends and show you both how sincere I am about giving up the dark arts...please Ominis." Still on one knee, he pleaded with his best friend. His voice had become a whisper on the word please, in an almost heartbreaking way.

Ominis sighed, knowing it was no good arguing; and praying to Merlin that Sebastian was being honest. All he had to do was ask. Hopefully you wouldn't be angry at him for that if he didn't push you. "Fine. I will ask her. But I don't want you bothering me again if she says no." His tone let Sebastian know that his word was final, he would not waver on this choice.

Sebastian jumped to his feet and pulled Ominis into a hug. "Thank you Ominis! I won't let you down!" Sebastian threw the book into his bag and took off to the undercroft. Ominis sighed again. He guessed that means he had better go find you now.

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Sebastian paced back and forth, opening his pocket watch every once in a while. His nerves only worsened as the minutes passed. What if Ominis couldn't convince you? What would he do then? Could he maybe surprise you when you're alone and burn it then? He was sure you'd tell Ominis you saw him do it. Maybe that would work. But he'd rather do it now and be able to express how sorry he was. His thoughts were cut off at the sound of the gates to the undercroft creaked open. His eyes flickered to the book, it was carelessly tossed on the floor a few feet away so when he burned it he wouldn't get burned as well

His eyes went back to the door way leading to the gate and they landed on you. Merlin you were so pretty to him, even with the prominent frown on your face he couldn't help but stare. How could he have been so stupid to have hurt someone who was so beautiful inside and out. How could he betray someone who did so much to help him? Remembering your smile he wondered how did it not pull him out of that book and steal all his attention.

You turned to him and your eyes finally met his. It had been so long he forgot how intense your gaze could be. His heart fluttered in both fear and attraction. You didn't even say anything, you just raised your eyebrows in a way that asked "well? Why am I here?" He gulped, he was ready to get rid of the book. But now he just had to hope this would be enough. He turned his head, raising his wand, and with a quick flick of his wrist and a shout of "confringo" the book was ablaze. It took only a few seconds for it to be fully turned to ash with how strong he cast the spell. Turning to you he gave a lopsided smile.

"I'm done with the dark arts. I've been researching normal ways to create new potions that might help Anne. Ones that haven't been thought of before! Ominis can tell you, he found me reading the book!" His smile faltered as you continued to glare him down. You turned your head to the blonde and leaned gently against him. Ominis nodded mutely. That stung. You both didn't even need to say anything to communicate.

You turned back to him, your lip curling with anger. "Wonderful. But do you really think that solves everything?" He started to apologize but you pressed on, raising your voice over his. "Do you think that changes or makes me feel better about all you put me through? What you put US through?!" You had gestured to Ominis when you used the word "us".

"Wait, please let me apolo-" Sebastian tried again. But you quickly cut him off.

"NO! YOU don't GET to apologize. You said horrible things at me. You did horrible things, even when we begged you to stop. You were horrible to me! To US! I was just a tool for you to get what you want! You were never my friend! I cared so much about you and I care about Anne. But I am a human too! I deserve kindness too!" Your voice raised loud enough to fill the undercroft, tears were streaming down your face.

He felt sick all over again. Of course this wasn't enough, he had done more than just read the book. He had put you two through so much. He just never realized how much it affected you until now. It never really dawned on him how much he asked of you, how little you asked of him. His eyes started to burn with tears as he sank to his knees. That put a dead stop to your rant, your face changed to shock and confusion. Turning his head down he began to beg. "Please. I'm so," his voice cracked, "sorry. I never meant for anyone to be hurt. I-I didn't mean to make you feel this way. I never knew it affected you so much. I just wanted to save Anne. I just wanted to put my life back together. I was horrible to you both because anytime either of you argued against my ideas... All I saw was Solomon telling me that nothing would work and to give up. That wasn't fair to you both. I can't apologize enough, I will spend my whole life trying to make it up to you, and to prove I've changed...even if you don't give me the chance to show you. You two are so important to me and I can't believe I let some book lead me to harm you two in the ways I have."

The silence was deafening. It seemed too quiet after all your yelling. It pressed in on him, but he never raised his head. Even if he could see through all the tears falling from his eyes, he wouldn't be able to look you in the eyes right now.

"I-" you cut yourself off. Should he dare to hope you'd give him a chance? Maybe even forgive him? Now instead of the crushing silence he heard the blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding like it was going to jump out and present itself to you. His breath hitched, he was praying to anyone, anything that you would give him just one more chance. Anything, anything at all for him to possibly have you back in his life.

"I just don't know right now." Were the words you finally landed on. Merlin help him.

#sebastain sallow imagine #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #angst #i woke up and chose violence #im both so sorry and not sorry at all #major spoilers

[clairecrive]

Hi could we please get a really angsty fic with nikolai (with a happy ending pls) where reader and he has had a fight so they maintain the facade on the outside bc they're royals but in private it's just ignoring each other/angst?

Young Royals

A/N: ahh, this is angsty alright but it seems I'm only capable of writing hurt/comfort lately. This took a life of its own and it's long af but I hope you like it anyway x

Warnings: miscommunication, angst, fighting, hurt/comfort, Nikolai is a bit absent, you're a bit jealous of his relationship with Zoya

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep,@lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld,@thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020,@partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"Do not put words into my mouth, Nikolai."

"Please, you already have so many, my love," he scoffed and the use of the term of endearment hurt the most.

"You're making me sound like a brat while I'm providing you with a viable solution," you insisted with a flare of your hands, frustrated by his unwillingness to listen to you.

"No, you're not. What you're doing is being childish."

"I'm your queen, Nikolai. I'm only asking to be more involved."

"You're my wife, y/n, and you know nothing about politics or running a country." He retired, putting emphasis on wife. This felt a lot like being put into place. And the fact that it was your husband doing so, hurt. It was also the most you had seen him this week.

"Neither did Zoya, nor Genya or anyone who's currently running the country."

"That's different and you know it."

"Only because you're making it so," you exclaimed finally exploding. His despondency got on your nerves and this conversation was going nowhere anyway.

Surprised by your raise of voice, Nikolai stood before you just blinking at you.

Sighing, you took a step toward him, holding your hands up, "look, you're right, I don't know about running a country but teach me. I'm not stupid, I'll pick it up."

"Why are you insisting so much? You've never shown any interest in politics before." He gave you a puzzled look like he didn't really believe your intentions.

"I've never wanted to be queen before." before meeting you.

"Ah, I see," he chuckled mirthlessly, "I put you in this situation and now you're taking your revenge."

To insinuate that your marriage with him was you "being put into a situation" rather than a consensual decision you had made out of love was absurd.

Nikolai was right. You had never cared about politics or diplomacy before meeting him. You were a soldier. There was no reason for you to meddle with something that didn't concern you.

But now you were queen and you felt a responsibility towards your people. You wanted to help but so far, Nikolai hadn't allowed you to take part in any meetings. He said that anyone who needed to be there was already involved. What he didn't tell you was that while Grisha made excellent soldiers and even good councillors, one of them being a royal was a very different matter.

He had indulged his love for you by marrying you. You were his vice and he simply couldn't accept the idea of being without you anymore. He had married you, consequently making you queen, going against what his advisors told him.

While he ignored his warnings he was painfully aware, however, how difficult it was going to be for a Grisha on the throne. It was the first time something liked this had ever happened and unfortunately, the country was filled with people who resented Grisha for their powers.

Nikolai feared that the people were never going to accept you. Hence why he'd been keeping you secluded in the palace.

To be fair, you were doing a wonderful job. Like he had pointed out, you were not accustomed to politics but you made up for that with empathy and kindness. You started to interest yourself with the problem of poverty and lack of provisions for some parts of the country.

And while no one was aware of it, Nikolai often turned to you for military strategy. You were an apt soldier and had fought bravely alongside him and everyone else in the battle of the Fold. You were the very reason why he was still alive, to be honest.

While this arrangement worked for the first months of your reign, it was starting to feel an inadequate effort. You needed to do more, you wanted to do more. You didn't expect Nikolai to oppose it so vehemently.

"If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be, Nikolai, you'd do well to remember it," you pointed out coldly, straightening your spine.

"Since you seem so adverse at spending time with me or including me in important matters, I'll find someone else who will." And with that, chin held high, you walked out of the room.

You missed him. It felt absurd to say this but you missed your husband. He was always busy with meetings or official visits to some noble across the country. For most of them, he went alone or with Zoya.

You knew that she was his first in command but you couldn't help but be bothered by it. It was one thing to accept the fact that he hadn't given the role to you "because the queen cannot have that role as well", it was a whole other thing to accept the fact that another woman spent more time with your husband than you did.

Countless were the fights you had with him in this regard. But they were pointless. Nikolai was still set on not bringing you and he and Zoya were always found together.

You didn't know what hurt more. The blow at your pride for being denied a position you deserved because of who you loved, the jealousy or being punished for your identity.

One thing was sure though, it was getting too much. At first, you pulled thought for Nikolai but now that you didn't have him anymore, your efforts seemed to be in vain.

So, like you had told Nikolai, you looked for someone who was willing to teach you. You wanted to help and if Nikolai wasn't going to let you here at the palace, then you'd find somewhere else.

Count Kirigin had always been nice to you and he was a very generous host. You knew that he played a central role in Nikolai's plan so you thought that there was no one better than him.

You reached out to him, wrote him a letter in which you showed interest in his activity and asked him if he was willing to show you. Of course, anything that came from the queen or the king couldn't be denied but you knew that the Count truly enjoyed your company. If your position didn't put so much higher than everybody else, you'd even consider him a friend.

You waited for his reply before putting in motion the preparations for your departure.

In the meantime, you and Nikolai kept conducting your separate lives. Usually, you'd only see him at night when he returned to your chambers if you were still up. Now, you had decided to sleep in separate rooms too.

If he wanted a wife, then a wife he'd get. But kings and queens do not sleep together.

If the new arrangement was bothering him, you didn't know. He hadn't reached out to you nor made any move to rectify your decision.

Turns out that he wasn't even at the Palace. He had left for a mission near the border with Shu Han and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Well, then. Of course, he didn't even bother with telling you. Not even a small note.

Jokes on him though, you thought, since when he was going to come back, he'd finally get what he wanted. You weren't going to be there to bother him anymore.

Differently from him though, you did indeed left him a note. Nikolai found it a week after you had set it on his pillow. Its presence made him furrow his eyebrows since he had already been wondering where you were. You usually came out to meet him at the gates whenever he'd come back from a mission and even though you had fought before he went away, you weren't one for holding grudges. So e guessed there was something holding you.

Unfolding the paper he was met with your familiar chaotic writing.

"I don't know when you're going to find this letter but if I'm not there yet it means that I'm still at Count Kirigin's. Do not bother with writing or visiting, I'll come back when my business with him is done.

Y/n"

What in the name of every sweet loving saint???

The letter wasn't dated, no dear, no yours no nothing. Fuck. You were still mad or worse, hurt.

Asking one of the servants, he learned that you had been away for a week already. But what business could you possibly have with the Count??

Nikolai had nothing against him. Seeing Kirigin get all flustered as he tried to flirt with Zoya amused him to no end but the idea of him and you in the same house? Alone?? Unacceptable.

Not even bothering to change clothes after his long journey, Nikolai headed to the stables to ask for a well-rested horse. Luckily, Count Kirigin's estate was not too far away. A couple of hours ride.

Turns out that the Count had a lot to teach. Despite his aloof reputation and extravagant clothes, he was very observant. He lacked ambition, which was why Nikolai trusted him and had a curious way of behaving in social situations.

But Emil had been born and raised in high society. He knew how things were run even if he had no desire to be in charge of them.

So far, you'd be having a wonderful time. Emil was a wonderful host, as you remembered, but without Nikolai's presence, he was even more extravagant. He had an unexpectedly dry sense of humour and a never-ending list of jokes.

Being in the open and in the company of someone who saw y/n instead of the Queen of Ravka proved to be even more needed than you thought. You felt reinvigorated and much lighter than you'd ever been.

You had also been learning a lot. Emil had been teaching you about diplomacy. About the best ways of formulating a sentence so that you wouldn't offend anyone but still get what you wanted. He had also been talking to you about your husband's ministers. About their weaknesses and vices and what was the best way to approach them to get what you wanted.

So far, it was proving to be a wonderful decision to come here.

Whenever your mind strayed on Nikolai, you willed it to focus on something else. You didn't know if he had already come home or seen the letter. A part of you thought that if he had, he would at least write one back. But the thought felt a lot like hope and seeing as how little he saw you even before you left, you didn't think it safe to harbour it.

When Nikolai reached the estate, he was met with Kirigin's servants. They welcomed him inside and profusely apologised for the Count's absence. They told him that at this time of the day, Kirigin and his guest would usually go out on a ride but that they were also about to return.

So Nikolai waited, sitting in the most comfortable chair the Count owned, fuming at the thought that his wife had felt the need to go away and be in the company of another man.

"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be Nikolai. You'd do well to remember it."

Your words haunted him. They were the last thing that you told him. How stupid had he been to let you walk away. How utterly careless of him to disregard you like that.

He had promised himself to truly talk to you about it once this pressing matter of state was taken care of. Apparently, he had waited too long.

But Nikolai knew that the problem was at the source. He noticed how hurt you had been when he made Zoya his first in command. Or how sad you seemed everywhere he went somewhere with her and didn't ask you to join.

He was doing so to protect you from the inevitable slander you'd be met with. He should have known though that putting you aside was going to be even worse. You were a fighter just as much as Zoya was, if not stronger.

She hid behind her veil of indifference and superiority while you had never lost that emphatic verve that made everyone love you so much. In his attempt to make you safe, he had only managed to hurt you.

You were a warrior. You had accepted the role of queen only because it was the only way for you to be with Nikolai. And instead of praising you by making you a warrior queen, he had decided to hide you away.

Well, no more.

If his mistakes had not ruined everything already, he was going to make everything better.

Lost in his musing, he didn't hear the sound of hooves approaching but he did indeed hear your laugh. It immediately brought him back to the present and a wave of ugly jealousy hit him.

He couldn't remember the last time he made you laugh.

"I shouldn't even laugh Emil, the joke was terrible," Nikolai hear you giggling from somewhere in the hall. So now he was Emil, huh.

"You know you can't resist my charm, your highness," Emil replied and Nikolai had to call on every bit of his self-control to not barge out of the room and punch him.

"Stop it, you know you can call me y/n."

Before Emil could reply, they had both made it to the sitting room where Nikolai was waiting for them. It looked like no one had warned them of his presence because Kirigin looked surprised then utterly mortified.

"Your majesty, I wasn't aware you were here. Please forgive me for making you wait."

"Don't fret Kirigin, it was an impromptu visit. I came to see how my lovely wife was doing." No matter how green he was feeling right now, he knew that Kirigin was loyal to him and the crown. Whatever was happening here wasn't one of his schemes.

"Of course! I'm going to send for some tea while you two get reunited." Kirigin quickly bowed before hurrying out of the room.

Nikolai met your eyes for the first time since you had arrived. If at first, you were surprised to see him, now you couldn't help but be a bit sceptical about this visit.

"What are you doing here?" you asked breaking the ice.

"You leave with only a few lines on where you're going and you expect me to just accept it?" He scoffed, his hands curling on the armrests of the chair.

"It's more than what you gave me," you quipped, crossing your arms on your chest.

Nikolai sighed while his gloved hands run through his hair. You were right and he knew it. He had been a horrible husband lately.

"I know you're mad at me, honey, but listen-"

"I'm not mad. You didn't want to give me what I wanted so I went looking for it somewhere else." Scrolling your shoulders, you interrupted him without meeting his eyes. A list of excuses was not what you wanted nor what you needed from him.

Nikolai didn't miss the innuendo. His jaw clenched, his hands closed in fists. But he willed himself to stay calm.

"You think Kirigin can give you something that I can't?" Nikolai was a master in diplomacy. Never did he get frustrated or angry or raised his voice, even with the most aggravating people. Here though, with you, he didn't have to keep a façade. He spoke through his teeth barely containing his anger.

"Well, so far, he's been giving me attention and interesting pointers that no, Nikolai, you refused to give me."

"So this is how you solve your problems? Running away in the countryside with Emil?" Nikolai sneered, his tone souring around Kirigin's name.

"Don't you do the same with your precious first in command?" Tired after your ride with Emil, you plopped down on the chair in front of Nikolai's. Completely ignoring his tone, you pointed out calmly. The perfect image of aloofness even when it was the last thing you were in this moment.

"That's different," he snapped trying to meet your eyes that were carefully analyzing your hands.

"Yes," you signed, "it seems that when I'm concerned everything is different."

"There's nothing between me and Zoya, y/n and you know it." Nikolai was getting more frustrated by the second. He came here to apologize, to make things right and so far, the conversation was going in the opposite directions.

"Maybe now, but you spend more time with her than you do with me. It's only a matter of time before it happens and you're sorely mistaken if you think I'll just stand by and watch."

"This is not about Zoya," he insisted but so far, he wasn't getting the reaction out of you he wanted. You seemed... resigned at the situation. And that worried Nikolai to no end.

"It never is."

"Why did you run away?" Opting for a more direct approach, he bit the bullet and went straight to the point.

"I did not run away," you scoffed in contempt at his choice of words, "I told you I wanted to do more and Emil is teaching me. Not everyone is so against spending time with me, you know." You shot him a glance.

It was the first time that you had looked at him since you had been left alone.

"I married you, y/n. How can you possibly believe I don't want to spend time with you?" As desperation slipped through his words, Nikolai leaned towards you in his seat. As if he couldn't bear the distance between you anymore. But you knew it wasn't that. You and he had been distant for months now.

"Because that's what's happening, Nikolai," you clipped back and Nikolai had to refrain from wincing at your tone.

"It's not intentional, my love, I've just been busy." His tone softened. It was a poor excuse of an apology but it was sadly the truth.

"But when I say that I want to join or help you with it you strongly oppose?" Again, there was that suspicious implication in your words that Nikolai just couldn't stand. To think that you believed he'd ever cheat on you with another woman when he had done so much, taken so many risks, to be with you.

"It's not what you think, y/n." He insisted again but immediately realized he had said the wrong thing when he saw you leaning back into your chair shaking your head.

"I don't think anything, anymore. Do whatever you want. You do your thing and I'll do mine. I won't be a bother to you anymore." Holding up your hands, you gestured as you spoke.

A beat. Nikolai froze in his seat at what you were suggesting.

"You're never a bother to me. Never." He leaned even forwards in his chair, basically only propping on it now. The desperation was now clear in his voice. He reached out to you to try and take hold of your hands but you were too distant.

"I love you more than anything in this world and if you think that I'm going to let you go without a fight, you're sorely mistaken." The steel determination of his words caught you off guard. Nikolai was strong-headed, you knew that better than anyone else, but it had been a long while since that determination had been directed to you.

"You already did." It was barely a whisper. The sad truth about your reality, the downfall of your relationship. The wavering of your voice, the pain in your eyes were enough to tip Nikolai off the edge.

"Milaya, please."He fell onto his knees in front of you. Leaning forward he reached for your hands that he could now hold. "I'm sorry. I put you in a difficult position when I married you and I tried my best to protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Nikolai, especially if it's by pushing me away."

"I was keeping you away from danger and I know that you're strong and capable but I hate to think of you as the object of public slander." His eyes darted between yours, frantic, desperate to make you understand.

"I'm Grisha, Nikolai. It's nothing new to me," you pointed out but then it hit you.

"By difficult position, you meant a Grisha Queen, didn't you?" Your eyes hardened at the implications, your hands going slack in his hold. You would have pulled them away if Nikolai didn't tighten his hold.

"Please, do not think I'm regretting my choice or I think you're not worthy of the title because that's not true." Pulling your hands, he tried to get you closer to him. "I fear that there will be repercussions among the people." And there it was, at last, the truth.

"And among your ministers," you added remembering Emil's lessons on the people at court and their role.

You scoffed when he stayed silent. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, my love."

"So Zoya can handle it and I can't?"

"For the millionth time," he groaned, "I don't care about Zoya."

"I only care about you and I know you can handle it. I just didn't want you to. You deserve happiness and peaceful life and I know it's impossible to have in this saints' forsaken country but I can at least try." His eyes lowered in shame and his confession sent a pang through your heart. You took a moment to take in what he said.

Never had you thought about the possibility of Nikolai's distance was a form of protection. You were a soldier of the Second Army, after all. But being a queen, especially a Grisha one, was a delicate thing.

It was the first time in history that something like this happened. Nikolai's worries were not unfounded since even after the destruction of the Fold, anti-Grisha movements were spreading fast.

It was sad to see the General's attempt of assuring safety for Grisha, provoking exactly the opposite thing.

"Oh, Kolya," returning his grip, you leaned towards him, "I just want a life with you by my side."

"As do I. I want you always and forever but above all, I want you safe. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know it right?"

"I just ask that you tell me the truth and let me play the role I've been given."

"It's not going to be easy. People at court-"

"I know. That's why I'm here. Emil's been teaching."

"Well, no more. I'm going to take care of it from now on."

"Is this a promise or a threat?"

"Rest assured my love, the difference between the two is almost nonexistent." He flashed you a smirk and you couldn't help but smile at him. Here it was, your beloved Nikolai.

"Things are going to change, aren't they?" you murmured softly as he gently rested his forehead against yours.

"We're going to show everyone what a "power couple" is." Here was his promise. Sealed with the gentlest nudging of his nose to yours. The action made you smile and your heart soar. You missed these little moments of intimacy with him.

One of his hands came to cradle your face as the other kept hold of your left hand. Your rings softly clicked as they touched. A form of reassurance.

"I love you, y/n."

"And I you, Kolya."

You were completely lost in your little bubble, even more so when Nikolai's lips finally met yours, that you had forgotten where you were. And that there was an embarrassed Kirigin outside the door waiting for the right moment to come in with tea.

#nikolai lanstov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov fic #nikolai lanstov imagine #nikolai lanstov imagines #nikolai lanstov one shot #nikolai lanstov fluff #grishaverse #shadow and bone

[miraculouscontent]

After reading that, I think it's safe to say that Miraculous Ladybug is more of a horror/psychological thriller than romance/comedy. And now I want an AU where Marinette takes the earrings off and realizes that they're messing with head

Marinette felt strange, and after getting used to the feeling of being on the Startrain, she knew it wasn't the cause. She felt lighter - less restricted - somehow, and while a part of her had expected that due to handing off the ladybug miraculous, it wasn't in the way she'd expected.

Once she was done sending Alya all the Ladybug tips, Marinette had figured they'd start talking about Adrien or what their next scheme would be once she got back, but she ended up finding the idea tiring. It was odd in the way that finding something in her room just slightly out of place would be (at least before the kwami began living there).

Everything she'd thought she might feel - anxiety over what could go wrong while she was gone, concern over how the kwami were doing in her absence, and longing for who she'd pictured as the love of her life - wasn't there. It felt completely unlike her, just as it felt unlike Alya to not reply to her messages considering how much she liked to be on her phone.

Abandoning the idea of texting Alya for now, she closed their conversation and idly started browsing her phone. Even still, the weird feeling didn't cease and her hero senses were going off.

Something was wrong, or... maybe right? It wasn't as if she was feeling anything bad, but she felt entirely different than when she was in Paris. It was hard to get a gauge on exactly how she should take it.

Marinette glanced at her parents, catching herself frowning before they could glance back. She looked at her phone, acting like nothing was wrong and idly scrolling through her various apps so as to look busy. In the process, she stumbled upon her gallery, finding her mass of Adrien images inside. It took up a majority of her pictures, and she found herself blushing in embarrassment rather than fondness.

Did she really have this many normally? How much time had she taken getting them?

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thrown off by just how different she felt. The reaction to seeing Adrien that she'd normally have where she'd lose all focus had virtually disappeared, and the only reason she'd missed it at all was because it gave her an absurd amount of mental clarity concerning how she'd be acting otherwise.

Clarity...

The word brought a particular face to her mind: pink lips, blue eyes, and black hair highlighted blue at the tips. Marinette ran her fingers through her own hair, ruffling it as she tried to piece out how she was feeling. All she knew was that - whatever it was - it was significant and she didn't have Tikki to vent to.

Though perhaps she wouldn’t had much to provide anyway.

A mix of trepidation and curiosity filling her. Switching away from her gallery, she went back to her conversations and pulled up her texts with Luka. Despite her confusion over whatever was happening to her at the moment, she managed a smile at Luka's contact image staring fondly at her.

After a moment of consideration, she typed out:

Hey. Sorry if you're busy. Thought we could talk?

That done, she navigated back to her gallery to look at all her Adrien pictures. She shifted in her seat again, as if it would change things or help her mind adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. It wasn't like looking at Adrien didn't make her feel anything at all, but that feeling could only be described as "normal," like the way she saw him before he'd given her that umbrella.

Before she officially became a ladybug holder who agreed to protect the people of Paris...

Her lips twitched in hesitant thought, her thumb brushing against her screen as she skimmed through the assortment of Adrien pictures. Her brain registered a feeling - or rather, lack thereof - and the foreign emotions encouraged her to act.

She tapped the garbage can icon experimentally, a notification popping up accordingly and asking her if she'd like to delete the picture. She brought the phone closer to her chest, like she felt she was doing something wrong, yet there was only a second of pause before she confirmed the decision.

She watched as Adrien disappeared, a message indicating that the picture had been trashed.

Marinette blinked at the message until it had timed out, bringing her back to the gallery. She was frozen in place, her fingers twitching against the side of the phone as she processed what she'd just done.

Then, she did it again. She tapped on another picture of Adrien, a weird mix of eagerness and interest urging her thumb along as she pressed the garbage can icon again, confirming the decision just as quickly.

Just before the image disappeared, a stray thought said aloud in her mind: black hair and blue eyes would've worked better for an outfit like that.

This time, her body finally moved, a shudder going up her spine as she took in a breath. Her eyes darted over to her parents, knowing how strange this must look to them, but they weren't watching her anyway, meaning the moment was kept firmly in her own personal bubble. It was so odd; normally, someone would've seen her acting off, or laughed and made muttering comments about it.

But nothing was happening, and she didn't know whether to question it or not.

Marinette glanced back at her phone, almost challenging herself as she started to run through the assorted Adrien pictures. She could've thrown them in the metaphorical bin all at once, but instead, she went one-by-one. She waited for something to break, either a sense of regret to settle in over the deletion or for her heart to start fawning over the face on screen, but neither happened.

She was in control, and it felt good. Really, really good.

Part of her felt like she was being ridiculous. The idea of getting some kind of emotional high out of deleting a few pictures sounded stupid, and yet she felt powerful. It was like a veil had been lifted and suddenly she had choices.

If her parents saw her visibly vibrating in her seat, she didn't hear them make mention of it.

The only thing that made her snap out of her rapid thumb movements was a text notification at the top of her screen, and only due to the flash of black, blue, and white. Her lips curved into a smile, originally being pressed together in focus, and she clicked to open her text messages with Luka.

Hey, Marinette. I'm not busy at all. What's up?

She felt warm, knowing that the guy who always made her feel comfortable and happy was on the other line. it was such a shame that they hadn't been able to work it out because of Adrien.

Marinette paused just as she went to reply, those thoughts catching up to her as she remembered that day with Luka underneath the bridge. She'd been so sure that she'd had to break up with him because of Adrien, but as she purposefully tried to recall the memory, something registered like a mental fog clearing in her mind.

Hadn't it actually been her responsibilities as Ladybug that had done it? In fact, that added up alongside all of the other memories of his akumatization; she hadn't been ditching him during their dates out of discomfort or her crush on Adrien, but because of akuma and sentimonsters.

How could she have forgotten? Or rather, how could she have remembered otherwise?

Marinette just barely managed to snap herself out of her trance, her phone having dimmed from inactivity and the sight of her furrowed brows and worried frown staring back at her from the blackened screen. She blinked rapidly, then shook her head to clear herself of the unnerving thoughts.

Lighting her phone back up, she hurriedly typed back as she realized she'd left Luka on read, trying to ignore the way her thumbs shook.

Nothing much.

She hesitated, already seeing him typing back. Guilt burrowed around in her stomach, knowing very well that it was not "nothing" but being unable to properly convey what was going on to him when she didn't even understand it herself.

She typed again, his own typing ceasing to let her add to her comment.

Actually, I've been thinking a bit lately. I'm going to be in London for a while and I'm on the train ride there right now. It's given me some time to myself and it's... weird.

I'm sorry, I know that doesn't make sense.

Even though he hadn't replied, she knew he was taking her seriously as he was typing back.

It makes sense. Background music doesn't work for everyone.

Marinette realized that her shoulders had been tense when they relaxed at his message. She pressed her lips together, feeling vaguely like she didn't deserve him and pushing down the thoughts just as quickly. He'd never approve of that kind of talk.

My head's just been a bit of a mess. Or... not a mess? Things were really foggy but I didn't realize that they were? It's like I'm thinking clearer but I don't know if I like everything that came with that.

What was the phrase? Ignorance is bliss? She had no idea where these changes were coming from, but something had indeed changed and she didn't know the significance of it. She was indeed happy that she felt so in control now over her thoughts on Adrien, but why now? What caused it, and what about her memories?

Would it go away?

Marinette shuddered at the idea, but tried to focus on her conversation with Luka. Having a crisis wasn't going to do her any good, and he was there with her, even if only through text.

I can't know what you're going through, but I think I get it.

-

You do?

-

Yeah. Do you remember my birthday, when everyone heard about my dad being Jagged Stone?

He already continued typing, so she just nodded even if he couldn't see it. She'd only been with Juleka when the reveal had happened, but she imagined it'd been just as much of a shock for her as it'd been for them. She couldn't even imagine when Luka could've learned about it.

Wait--no, she'd already known, actually, hadn't she? He'd been akumatized and had gone after Jagged, and she'd been there when he forced Jagged to tell him the truth about being his father.

Marinette winced at the filling of a gap in her memory that she hadn't realized had been there. Once again, she'd remembered something that she couldn't fathom having forgotten or misremembered, even with how spotty her memory could be under normal circumstances.

She turned towards the back of her seat and the window, trying to isolate herself so it felt like just her, her phone, and Luka. She desperately needed his texts as a distraction.

I'd wanted to know who my dad was for so long, but learning that it was my favorite musician all this time was a lot. I had to redo all the notes I’ve ever written about him, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it for a while.

He kept typing after that, and she merely stroked the side of the phone with her thumb as some form of support, even knowing that he couldn't know about it.

But I'm glad I knew in the end. He's doing his best to make up for all the lost time, and I don't have to go on never knowing what that song would've sounded like.

Their situations weren't exactly the same, but it was enough to reach her deep down. Whatever her situation was, if it really did mean something, she'd rather know it was there than go on never knowing. She hated the idea of being left in the dark, just as she hated being lied to.

As she took a calming breath, she found it in herself to type back.

I'm glad you know too. You deserve people who make you happy, Luka.

-

Thank you, Marinette. You do too, and I hope that whatever you're going through goes at least as well as it did for me.

-

Thanks.

She bit her lower lip at her reply, which felt clipped in tone even though she hadn't meant it that way. She just had too much on her mind and it was hard to think about what emotion was coming across when she was typing to him.

She tapped away at the on-screen keyboard, hopefully before he could think anything in particular about it.

Sorry.

Though she wanted to explain further, she wavered, her legs bending as she curled further in on herself. The conversation had already been so deep and she didn't want to make it worse.

But just as she debated on dismissing her feelings and insisting that he not worry about her, the memories that had been cleared up from before came back to her, reminding her of a warm hug on top of a bridge.

"When you're ready, I'll be here, Marinette."

She inhaled shakily, but steadied herself immediately afterwards, letting the warmth of the words calm her. Luka was there for her and she trusted him.

She was ready.

...I'm scared, Luka. I thought I had my clarity, but I don't. Something's wrong.

Then, almost on cue, the train screeched to a halt, jostling her out of her seat as the lights went off. The simultaneous sound of phones ringing followed soon after.

—————

Marinette held her breath, crouched down in the restroom while she listened closely for the sound of her parents' footsteps. Her throat let out a whine, but she managed to keep it silent enough to where she was sure that no one on the other side of the door would hear it. She'd have to leave eventually or risk being cornered, courtesy of the power being off and the restroom's lock being electronic, but she felt safe enough to pull out her phone.

She also set it on vibrate just in case.

There was a reasonable concern at first that Luka's texts would indicate that he'd fallen victim to the akuma, but what she found when she checked their conversation reassured her.

Marinette!

Is everything okay?

Did the akuma's power reach you? Did they call you too?

Marinette?

The panic in simple letters on a screen made her feel noticed and loved. Keeping enough of her focus on potential footsteps approaching outside the door, she typed out a reply:

Sorry. I had to run from my parents.

I'm okay. What about you?

-

You're alright. I'm so glad.

I'm okay too. I hid somewhere and I doubt anyone can find me.

-

That's good. Be careful.

-

You too.

She took another breath, certain she'd be captured soon if the akuma wasn't taken care of. The train was limited and there weren't many places to go, so unless she could find a blunt object to smash her parents' phones, she was at a loss.

Regardless, Luka was there, her phone vibrating as he added onto his previous text:

I know this isn't the time, and I hate that the akuma cut into the song we were writing, but I'm here for you, Marinette. Whatever's going on, I'll help you figure it out as long as you want me with you.

Her heart fluttered pleasantly, a pink blush even tinting her cheeks. She welcomed it, unlike the fear that'd come with the changed memories. Feeling the way she did for Luka was too natural to be afraid in any way.

Thank you, so much. You're the only one I could trust with something like this.

She meant it. She'd trusted Alya with her identity in a moment of weakness, and even passed the ladybug earrings to her, yet that somehow paled in comparison to the emotions she was choosing to share. Luka would take her seriously, she was sure, even if she came up with the craziest theory in the world for why her feelings and memories were the way they were. He wouldn't doubt her, or laugh, or dismiss her as "Marinette being Marinette."

And as she sat there, completely without a miraculous or any way to get back to Paris without help, she reached up with her free hand and tugged at her earlobe, processing what she could with the information she had as one such theory started to form in her head. The fear from before never quite went away, but the idea of figuring things out with Luka brought her a sense of comfort.

Though perhaps, when she got back to Paris, she would take back her miraculous with a sense of hesitance that she hadn't had before, and there would be some testing that followed after the fact, because there were two things she refused to give up from her experience on the train.

Her sense of freedom and choice, and the feelings for Luka that she can't believe she ever questioned.

Or, if her working theory was correct, that her miraculous had her question.

#MC's Writing #writing: story #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #category: salt #episode: Hack San #other: ask and answer #((tbh depending on how much Marinette explains it to him)) #((poor boi's gonna have one hell of a revelation in ''Wishmaker'')) #((suddenly the Adrien crush influence she explained is gonna make sense)) #((and he feels bad for ever supporting it even if he had no way of knowing.))

[wpdarlingpan]

Hey I just read the yandere Jason's todd and I was thinking about how you said Dami was still looking for his darling/soulmate. What if yan damian found his darling at his Schools art room and she has a service dog? Like she loves painting and I saw on TikTok that a dog can paint to so there is a little set up for her dog and another for her. Can I request a story about this? Hope you are having a good day/night!

Thank you so much for this request! I love the idea.

Y/N= Your Name

Y/L/N= Your Last Name

Y/E/C= your eye color

Warning: Major Fluff

~*~

Damian Wayne had been stopped after school but a group of squealing girls he had not interest in talking to. They all wanted the same thing, his last name and his money. They didn’t understand he had no interest in any of them.

“Damian! want to go get ice cream with me?”

“Damian! will you help me study for the math test?”

“Damian! Will you be my boyfriend?”

All he heard was them just shouting his name, if those insufferable people wanted to talk so badly why couldn’t they even just talk like normal people? But he had to admit even then he wouldn’t give them the time of day. But he knew with his name he had to seem polite even if he wanted to run away, so he decided to combine the two.

“Sorry, I must go. I need to go get something from one of the classrooms.”

A chorus of shouts started up again with every one of them saying they would go with him.

“Alone.” He stressed before quickly walked or more so ran back inside the school building. He heard them rush after him so he quickly darted into the nearest classroom and shut the door behind him, which happened to be the art room.Damian had his back to the door and he heard the footsteps rush past the door in search of him.

“Hello?” He heard, at first he was worried it was another fan girl that one bombard him but when he looked up and stared into beautiful Y/E/C eyes, it felt as if time had stopped. He admired the girl who was standing in front of an easel in the center of the room. She had on a white shirt with denim overall and a pair of converse. But she was covered in paint, blue in her hair, white on her hands, even more colors covered her legs, shoes, face, pants, and even her white shirt.

After he gained some awareness of how it would come across as creepy if he kept staring he looked down to the smaller easel that was on the floor next to her and saw an adorable dog with their own painting in front of them. There was a plastic sheet on the floor so they didn’t get paw prints all over the floor as their paws were covered in purple paint.

“Hello?” The girl questioned again before he looked back up at her and he finally moved from the door, closer to the girl.

“Hi, sorry to barge in like that.” Damian apologized in a apologetic manner.

“Oh! No worries. It just startled me a bit but then I heard all the foot steps pass the door, too which I assume you were running from people.” She spoke very analytically. Damian feel even more in love. She had a dog, she wasn’t squealing, she was very aware, and she was also very adorable as he saw the paint on her.

“You are very clever.” He replied smoothly making her blush to which Damian smirked.

“Thank you.” She spoke shyly. Damian could tell she was rather anxious so he kept talking to try and ease her nerves. Damian knew he wanted her to be his soulmate as the other bats. But he preferred the term beloved.

“May i see your paintings?”

“Sure.” She spoke nervously. Y/N wasn’t too confident as a person do showing her art to someone was very nerves racking, that was why she was there after school so she could finish her painting and not worry about the people around her, also because her teacher said she could try and see if her dog could paint like she saw others do on Tik tok.

Damian walked over to the girl and he dog and stood rather close to her, looking at the painting quite closely as to have ma excuse to stand next to her.

He looked at the painting and saw a silhouette of Gotham at night, he knew this because there was a image of the bat signal painted towards the night sky.

“This is amazing.” Damian complimented making her blush. She really wasn’t blushing because it was Damian Wayne making the comments but just because someone was making the comments in the first place. Damian then crouched down on the side closest to the dog and let the dog sniff his hand before he pet them while he looked at the dogs painting.

“This is a very cute idea, I might have to try this with my dog Titus, whats your dogs name?” He spoke as he looked at the purple paw prints at were on the canvas.

“His name is Padfoot, after the-“

“Harry Potter series? Sirius black right?” Y/N glowed at the thought of him knowing where her dogs name came from. She was really expecting him to be mean like some of the other people at school when they asked her dogs name. They thought the name padfoot was stupid and she should have named her dog like shadow or something based off the dark fur.

Damian saw her change in demeanor and smirked before continuing.

“I love the Harry Potter series.” 

“Me too! Well you probably already knew that because of the name but-“

“Hey, it’s fine.” Damian reassured as she started to rant and stumble on her words. Damian loved Y/N’s shyness. It meant he had to worry about a lot less people being in the way. Then he realized he didn’t even know her name yet.

“What’s your name?” He questioned in subtle flirty tone.

“I’m y/n! What’s yours?” She did already know his name but she assumed that he would like to introduce himself. He liked that.

“Wayne, Damian Wayne.” He held out a hand for her to shake and she went to do so before noticing all the paint of her hands.

“Nice to meet you, I’d shake your hand but I’d feel bad getting paint on you.” Damian smiled slightly at her kind nature and proceeded to shake her hand anyway that seemed to fit perfectly in his. He didn’t even hardly pay attention to the white paint that was in his hands.

“It’s alright.” He said as he saw her looking alarmed at the paint on his hands.

Damian wanted to move quickly. He wanted to make her his as soon as possible. So he began another conversation and asked her about her life such as her friends, family, what area of Gotham she lived in, if she was single; to which she blushed brightly at as she replied with a quick yes as she never even held hands with a boy before. Damian was pleased with all the answers, and he felt very protective over her as she told him her address. He had to keep her safe if she was just waking around telling her address to anybody. Of course he wouldn’t be just anybody to her but it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t go telling other people who he knew didn’t deserve it know.

Damian didn’t want to go the route Timothy Drake did. He didn’t want to immediately force her to be his. He wanted something that made him feel the love that he was neglected of for years. He found his beloved and he knew that he had to be gentle in a way. But he could tell she was perfect for him.

She had finished her painting and put it over but the others from class the day and Padfoots had dried so she picked up the small easel and put it in her bag.

“I should probably head home now.” She spoke after she put Padfoot back on his leash and washed most of the paint off his paws. Damian panicked slightly as he didn’t want their time to end but, he also knew he could go home and search up everything he could find on the bat computer.

They walked out to the front together and saw Alfred patiently waiting in the car while reading a book. He looked up and saw Damian walking out alongside Y/N and smiled to himself slightly. He knew the boy deserved love, and it seemed that he had found his.

Y/N was tempted to ask for his number, but she didn’t want to come across as clingy or pushy. She had deeply enjoyed talking to him and she wanted to further.

“Pass me your phone.” Damian said with a slight demanding tone. Y/N did so without hesitation making Damian smirk as he typed in his number and put his name in the contact. He sent a messages to himself after and discreetly changed her contact name to ‘My Beloved ❥’ and handed back her phone.

“There, I texted myself from your phoen so we have each other’s numbers. Text me whenever you want.” Y/N smiled brightly at him making him smile back.

She began to wave goodbye and make the walk back home but he stopped her once he saw her start walking.

“Wait you’re walk home? Alone? But you live so far.”

“Yeah, my parents are always working so they can’t come get me. But it’s okay, I’m used to walking home .” But Damian immediately begins shaking his head. He knew the dangers of being in Gotham as he has seen many first hand. He wouldn’t allow his beloved to be so unprotected.

“I’ll give you a ride home from now on okay?” He spoke decidedly. She began to shake her head no.

“I couldn’t ask to do do that-“

“You didn’t ask, I told you. I’m going to give you a ride home, it’s too dangerous out there by yourself.”

“But I got Padfoot to protect me!” She spoke innocently while holding up the shaggy black dog.

Damian looked at her with a look that left no room for argument.

“Fine… but just this once.” Y/N said before following him over to the sleek black car.

“Definitely not only once, but believe what you want to believe. I can be quite… persuasive.”

Damian opened the door for her to get it and he helped her inside before getting in on the other side while Alfred glanced in the mirror every so often.

“Hello. Nice to meet you, what’s your name sir?” She spoke politely looking at Alfred as he looked up in the mirror.

“I’m Alfred Pennyworth. And you are?”

“Y/N L/N.”

“Nice to meet you as well Miss L/N.”

She smiled at him as he saw in the mirror and he slightly smiled back and could already tell she was a kind person. Perfect for Damian and the Wayne family.

Her and Damian talked the whole ride to her house after she gave Alfred her address. Once they arrived Damian tried not to look to disappointed and continued to reassure himself that he would see her the next day for sure. He would also look her up on the bat computer.

They pulled up in front of a nice house that resided in a sketchy area, well all of Gotham was sketchy but Damian remembered one of the warehouse down the street was one of Jokers hold hideouts and he stopped a drug sale a few houses down and not to even mention the-

Before he continue she opened her door and stepped out of the car.

“Thank you for the ride Mr.Pennyworth. Bye Dami!” She said happily as she set Padfoot out of the car as well and made her way into the house. As the door shut behind her he snapped out of his trance of thinking of all the dangers and the fact she already gave him a nickname.

“Beat that Todd.” Damian thought to himself as he was already making more progress in a day than Todd and Grayson had in weeks with their soulmates.

“I presume that’s her Master Wayne?”

“Definitely Pennyworth. She’s My Beloved.”

~*~

I hope you liked it ♡

#yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #batboys #batman #Damian Wayne #x reader #dc universe #yandere #soulmate

[silversatoru]

Can i regurst a gojo x reader smut where y/n is gojo’s ex girlfriend and also a strong jujutsu sorcerer and they get back together asdfghjkl 🥺😂? Tyy 🥺

hehhee yes ma’am here u are!!! i actually loved writing this one (i think i just have a thing for writing gojo lately lmao) anyway! i! hope! you! enjoy!

to heaven and back

gojo satoru x f! sorcerer!reader

synopsis: you and your ex, gojo satoru, beat the hell out of a few special grade curses and then head back to his house to rekindle an old (and kind of kinky) flame

tags/warnings: nsfw (18+), smut, handcuffs, blindfolding, little bit of oral sex, teasing, alcohol consumption, some fluff at the end? just a little

word count: 3.1k

You lifted your elegant glass of random wine that you could care less about knowing the name of, and took a long sip. All of these old rich bastards talked way too much about brand names, aging, and what cheese paired well with each wine. They were missing what was really important — which one would get you drunk the quickest. 

These kinds of formal events weren’t really your scene, and having to listen to a bunch of old, conservative, high-up jujutsu leaders was terribly boring — so why not take this opportunity to get a little tipsy? You deserved it for putting up with all of these assholes. After all, the only reason they invited you to this prestigious event was for protection. If that pesky band of special grade curses caught wind that all of the higher ups from both Kyoto and Tokyo were in the same place, they were sure to launch some kind of attack. The old, wrinkly douchebags couldn’t care less about your opinions of the jujutsu world and how you would change it, they only liked you for incredible cursed technique. 

And so here you were, spitefully wearing your most elegant dress and downing glasses of wine in an attempt to drown out all of the nonsense around you. There was only one thing that could make this event any worse and— 

“Hello everyone! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer has arrived — I know you were all looking forward to my appearance”. 

And there it was. There was that one thing that could make this event any worse. Gojo Satoru.

You dipped your head low, burying yourself in your glass of wine and praying to any god who would listen to not let this man see you. It’s been over two years since the two of you broke up, but he still wasn’t someone you enjoyed running into. 

Gojo was terribly notorious for having a long line of girls at his disposal, and with his incredible strength and annoyingly good-looks, it wasn’t hard to understand why. The two of you had never been in an officially committed relationship, and so technically Gojo was free to do as he pleased — but you were practically dating and your heart ached every time you caught wind of him being with another woman. And so two years ago you cut things off with him for good — you were tired of being the one he always ran back to at the end of the day. 

He’d looked at you with eyes full of pain that night, begging and pleading to stay with him. He showed you a vulnerable side to him that you had never seen before — and he swore to you that if you had asked to make things official, he would have committed himself to you fully. You declined however, because you felt like you shouldn’t have needed to ask for that kind of thing — but maybe that was just your ego getting in the way. 

“Hey, beautiful, I’ve never seen you around before, you must be from the Tokyo campus,” Some random assistant casually leaned against the counter you were sitting at and shook you out of your thoughts.

“If you’ve never seen me before then you must not be very important,” You shot him a distasteful glance, taking another sip of your wine. 

The man’s face lit up with panic — he must not have been expecting such retaliation to his pathetic attempt of flirting. 

“Are you bothering her?” A familiar voice came from behind you — a long, slender hand slapping down onto your shoulder, “Please don’t flirt with my wife”. 

“Ah- Wife? I’m so sorry, sir,” The man stumbled over his words, bowing his head to Gojo and scurrying away. 

Gojo wasted no time sliding into the seat next to you and pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle you’d already been working on. 

“Really? You’re telling people I’m your wife now?” You gave him a deadpanned look. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his glass. 

You rolled your eyes hard, “Why are you here, Satoru?” 

“Same reason as you. The old, conservative pussies are afraid those special grades might attack — so why not invite their two prized sorcerers to protect them?” 

“Fair,” You let out a heavy sigh, “Not sure that was their best move though — I don’t think either one of us is very motivated to save these fuckers”. 

“No, but I brought my students with me today. So, if anything does happen, make sure you put on a show for them,” He winked, already topping off his wine glass. 

You looked over to see a few kids sitting a couple tables away from the two of you, chatting amongst themselves and wondering why the fuck they had to be here. 

And so an hour or two went by, and to your surprise, you found yourself laughing hysterically alongside Gojo. The two of you had definitely drank a bit too much, and your personalities complimented each other a little too perfectly. You shared the same terrible sense of humor and he had quite the knack for bringing out this lighthearted side of you. You had missed moments like this these past two years. 

Neither of you were paying any attention to the current debate that was occurring between the higher ups when a loud crash sent broken pieces of glass flying through the grand hall. Sure enough, the curses had made their appearance and came flying into the building through a now broken window.

“It’s our time to shine, huh?” Gojo looked over at you, and you imagined that his icy blue eyes were swirling with excitement under that mask. 

“Yeah, let’s make this quick,” You found a warm ball of excitement churning in your own stomach — it’d been a long time since the two of you had fought together. 

Your technique revolved around the manipulation of cursed energy and converting it into light. You could wrap yourself in a shield of light, send curse-filled bursts of light at your enemies, and move at the speed of light as well — which was almost as efficient as Gojo’s teleportation abilities. You had a series of more advanced moves as well, but those required more energy output and therefore you used them a little less often.

The two of you were both able to move so fast that the curses really didn’t stand a chance. You found yourself laughing as you flipped through the air, hurling balls of light at the curses as Gojo worked closer in hand-to-hand combat. At one point, while the two of you were flying past each other, Gojo stuck out his hand and gave you a high five, both of you smiling like maniacs who enjoyed fighting a little too much. 

Between Gojo’s Limitless and your extreme agility and bursts of light, the curses were quickly forced to flee. Both of you were feeling much too drunk and much too lazy to chase after them, even with all of the higher ups begging you to do so. Gojo simply flipped them off and stuck out his tongue, saying that he did what they paid him to do — keep the curses away — and now that the curses had been scared off, he was no longer needed. 

“You want to come back with me, relieve more of our old memories together? I remember how much you loved sleeping in my king sized bed,” Gojo looked back at you, offering one of his large, slender hands. 

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your stupid, stupid heart, but you reached out and took his hand, “Fuck it, let’s go”. 

Gojo’s house on the outskirts of the Tokyo campus was just as you remembered — sleek black interior with modern furniture and extravagantly silky sheets on his bed — his same bed that you were currently sprawled out on, laying in nothing but your undergarments. 

Gojo joined you a couple minutes later, his bare skin warm and familiar against yours. He pressed a few sloppy kisses to your lips, both of you still incredibly tipsy and unable to stop the small giggles from leaking out between your lips while you kissed. 

“Take the blind fold off you weirdo,” You pulled at the back of the black fabric. 

“Mmm, okay,” He mumbled, undoing the knot and exposing his piercing blue eyes.

“So pretty,” You murmured under your breath — his eyes really were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life

His fluffy silver hair fell down messily over his face, a drunken smile stretched across his lips. His smile quickly turned into a devilish grin as he slipped the mask over your eyes instead, tying a tight not at the back of your head.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You droned, but you didn’t argue — you certainly weren’t opposed to being blindfolded.

“It looks good on you,” He slurred, his words messy and his lips even messier as he pressed them back against yours. 

The kisses seemed to last forever, and both of you were perfectly okay with that — your hands taking their time exploring each other’s bodies for the first time in far too long. 

Gojo’s hands worked their way up your back, tracing lines along your toned muscles until he finally reached the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, soft hums coming from his lips.

“I still have handcuffs, if you’re still into that sort of thing,” he mused, massaging his fingertips into your scalp. 

“Damn, I can’t believe you remember what I like. I thought my preferences would have gotten lost among the sea of other women you were pleasing,” You let the snarky remark roll off your tongue, though there was clearly no real spite in your words — you’re both adults and what happened then was in the past now.

“It wasn’t even that many,” He defended, “And you were the only one who ever mattered”. 

“I’m flattered,” You laughed, “Now, where are those handcuffs?” 

Gojo stifled a deep laugh, his hands leaving your hair as he lifted himself up and stood from the bed. When he returned a few moments later, there was cool metal wrapping around both of your wrists. He had two sets of handcuffs, putting one on each wrist and then hooking the other side to the bed posts. 

You were entirely at his disposal now, your hands secured over your head and your vision blocked off by the black mask. 

“I could tickle you right now and there’s nothing you could do,” Gojo observed aloud, pressing kisses up the side of your torso.

“Satoru, I would kick the living shit out of you,” You threaten, goosebumps growing under your skin. 

“Yeah, but you can’t touch me unless I let you,” He retaliated, his soft hands reaching underneath your bra to feel your breasts.

You groaned in response — his Limitless really did make him impossible.

He cupped each of his hands around your firm lumps, gently massaging them between his fingers. His cool fingertips then made their way down to your lower body, swiftly removing your remaining underwear. You were now completely exposed to him, chills running down your spine as you wondered what he would do next. 

You heard a shaky breath leave his lips, his hungry hands massaging circles into your thighs, “God, you’re so beautiful. I missed you so much, you know that?” 

“I’m sure you did,” You breathed, “I’m a wonderful person to be around”. 

Gojo let out a hearty laugh, and you heard what you assumed to be the sound of his own underwear getting thrown to the floor. A few seconds later he was straddling your torso, his warm thighs wrapped around your body. You couldn’t see it, but you knew his massive member had to be right in front of your face now. 

“Remind me what that pretty mouth can do,” He cooed, pressing the tip of his length gently to your lips. 

You graciously granted him access, parting your lips and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip, earning a few twitches from Gojo’s body. You began to bob your head back and forth as much as the handcuffs allowed, a few quiet moans leaving his throat in response. 

He began to move his hips against you, gingerly pushing his member deeper and deeper into your mouth until you were taking the full length down your throat. He groaned and let a few curse words slide from between his teeth — your mouth was wrapped so perfectly around him. Tears pricked at your eyes and a couple rough gags ripped through your throat, Gojo finally pulling away and allowing you to catch your breath. 

After that, you felt a single one of his long, slim fingers slide into your mouth, and you wasted no time wrapping it in your tongue and sucking hard. 

“Good girl,” He murmured, plucking his finger back out of your mouth and moving it down to your aching entrance. 

Between the saliva on his finger and the slick juices around your opening — his finger slid in effortlessly. He started moving in quick movements, curling his finger up into your g-spot each time. A few light moans left your lips, your fists clenching in the cuffs as your yearned for more. His finger felt good, but you wanted the real thing — you needed it.

“Satoru, please,” You practically whined his name, a tiny bit ashamed for how desperate you were for him right now. 

“Patience, love,” He clicked his tongue and your heart did somersaults at the endearing name. 

He removed his singular finger and intertwined it with a second one before sliding them back into your cavern. He picked up a steady pace again, your breath hitching in your throat. Two fingers was certainly better than one, but the continuous teasing was just making you even more desperate to feel his member inside of you. You mumbled his name over and over, small pleads and shameless whispers leaving your mouth as you bucked your hips against his hands.

“No ones fucked you as good as I used to, have they? You’re horribly desperate right now” He clicked his tongue again, removing his fingers and moving them up to your clit. He rubbed the smallest, softest circles against the small nub, your core growing warmer with desire. 

“I won’t make you wait any longer then,” He whispered, sitting back and positioning the head of his length against your throbbing cunt. 

“Please,” You mumbled fervently, any ego or pride that you once had was completely down the drain now. 

Your pleads were finally rewarded, Gojo pressing himself deep into your tight walls. The immediate feeling was complete bliss, your head rolling back in pleasure as you heard a throaty moan creep it’s way out of Gojo’s mouth. His moans were so pretty — god, you’d missed the sound of them.  

He moved in and out at a tantalizingly slow pace at first, your hips bucking and wiggling as you made fervent attempts to make him go faster.

“So eager…” He shook his head, continuing to move at a pace that was absolutely agonizing — you thought you might die if he didn’t rail the hell out of you soon. 

“Please, fuck,” You gasped, “Stop moving so goddamn slowly”. 

“Your whines are so pretty, baby. Say my name and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” He murmured, his voice low and husky. 

“Fucking hell,” You gritted your teeth, “Please Satoru, please fuck me already”. 

“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath, your words sending electricity coursing through his body. 

After hearing you say that, he was quick to give you what you wanted, picking up his pace and wrapping his hands firmly around your hips. Strangled combinations of moans, whimpers, and cries filled the air as they flew from your mouth. You didn’t care how loud or desperate you sounded, you wanted him to know how good he was making you feel. 

The two of you were an entangled mess of sweaty skin and throaty moans, Gojo filling your ears with praises and compliments the entire time. His lengthy member railed into you over and over, hitting that perfect pleasure point with each stroke and sending warm surges of ecstasy through your veins. 

Your bodies moved together in sync, your breaths aligning and your climaxes threatening to arrive simultaneously. After a few more firm strokes, you felt yourself drowning in pleasure — euphoria crashing through your body like waves. Gojo reached his end point just a few moments later, his loud cuss words and strangled moans filling your ears. 

The two of you rode out your orgasms together, and almost immediately afterwards Gojo collapsed next to you. He lazily reached up and uncuffed each of your hands, leaving the cuffs dangling from his bed posts just in case there was a round two in his future. He rolled the sticky condom off his member and tossed into a nearby trash bin, a relaxed sigh slipping between his parted lips. You peeled the black mask off of your eyes, finally able to meet his again. 

He was staring at you with eyes filled with all kinds of emotions — the emotions that he’d been too afraid to admit to the first time the two of you were together. But he wasn’t afraid of commitment anymore, he was absolutely certain about what he wanted, and it was you. 

“Stay with me,” He asked, his eyes pleading with you, “I’m ready this time, I promise. I’m all yours, if you’ll have me”. 

You found a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips as you looked deeper into his eyes, “Of course I’ll stay, as long as you still feel this way when you wake up sober tomorrow”. 

“I’ll feel this way forever,” He pressed his head into you and mumbled into your chest, “And I’ll remind you as many times as you need to hear it”. 

You wrapped your arms around him in response, the two of you fitting impeccably together. He placed a few gentle kisses to your skin before his breathes began to slow. You found your own breathing to be evening out, your cloudy thoughts pushing you closer and closer to sleep. The two of you slowly drifted off together, your heavy breaths falling perfectly in sync.

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[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon, profanity, abuse, anger issues, anxiety, arson, bullying, child neglect, child abuse, drugs, addiction, anorexia, guilt, pills, unprotected sex, stalking, trauma

TIP-JAR

PART ONE 

IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM - PART TWO

IN THE TRAILER

She ran away from him in the hallway.

He’d warned her of what would happen if she did.

Knowing it was a matter of when as the next day he was left waiting, grazing the halls of where she’d left him with a kicked ball-sack on the dirty school-floors, all lovesick and frenzied with fire ants raging over his skin and a manic promise that one way or the other he’d get her. Lying in suspenseful spiteful wait to tell everyone what type of slut the little spitball in class 3c General Studies really was.

But, timing was everything, and as the day went by without him spotting her he realized the opportunity to ruin her reputation in school wasn’t going to rear its head.

She was home… 

Sick.

Or, that’s what she’d told the school. One quick question at the reception told him so.

She was home. 

Home in that run-down trailer-park sorry-excuse for a home she despised, the one she cried about so often, the one with neighbours who didn’t give two shits worth a damn about who she was or that her mother was a crackhead-whore in no position to take care of her. 

She was there instead of at school begging him to stop, begging for him to give her a second chance, begging him to kiss her, like she was supposed to do.

Standing outside her trailer, he wondered if whether her mom was home or not. He wondered if either one of her neighbours would care if they saw him break in, if it even was considered breaking in.

He spotted her mother slouched on a beach-chair beside some other trailer with a needle still stuck to her arm, ugly destroyed skin sizzling in the summer-heat, mouldy flip-flops sticking to her feet. 

He cringed at the sight of it, but knew then that his pursuit would go on unprovoked, which at the very least brought him some sense of relief.

She’d gotten in through scholarship as she in no form or way could afford a school like UA. That much was clear, unlike how unclear the crystal-meth shards decorating the plastic salon-table placed on the outside of their van was. 

She transferred half-way through the first year, all on the account of pure hard work.

He could respect that. 

He did respect that. Given she was quirkless and all. It was the reason she’d caught his eye.

It all went sideways when she rejected his invitation to Homecoming.

He’d already gone miles away out of his comfort-zone, out of his element, talked himself into asking her out, only for her to turn him down.

Him.

Best student in Hero-course 1A at the time.

Rejected.

He knew it was petty of him to bully her because of it, but… she didn’t only make a fool out of him, she broke his fucking heart.

He could have listened to Kiri, and tried to forget about her through some other extra, but... he wanted her. He’d decided. She was his. And a quirkless trailer-rat like her was in no position to just say no.

In some sick sense he believed she deserved better. Him being better. But, he would like for her to ask for his help, instead of him just giving it to her. He would like to see her grovel, beg, just a little bit, or a lot. He wanted to see her regret her decision. He wanted to see her sorry. He wanted to see her want him as much as he wanted her. And he wanted it to be her who initiated it.

But… he could see that wasn’t happening. He could see that his unorthodox methods of courting her through continuously trying to bend her until she broke only consisted of her rewinding or snapping back like a rubber-band.

She was distracted, too busy being broken by what life had given her, too busy with juggling different shifts, bills, schoolwork, to be thinking about him and how he pushed her around a bit at school.

He eyed the cracked paint of the faded trailer with much the look of a snob on his face. Fingers brushing over the door-handle, testing how much noise it would make if he were to pick the lock, coming to a complete loss. 

He could barely believe it… the door was unlocked, and when he stepped inside he was even more distraught to see there was no existing lock there to be locked in the first place. 

Meanwhile her mother was too busy slowly dying to better protect her daughter from depraved humans who could come and do just about anything they wanted with her.

Meaning… just look at him.

Soft snores brought him back to where he was once he closed the door behind him. Making the short way to the source of the groggy sounds, feeling his stomach flutter at the thought of how wrong it was of him to be there, sneaking about like some love-obsessed sick stalker, getting turned on by hearing his prey sleep.

What the fuck was wrong with him? 

And why didn’t he care enough to stop?

He stood at the foot of her bed, hands in the pockets of his trousers, head tilted to the side to view her sleeping frame.

Sleeping on top of the covers, not under.

He doubted it was because of the heat, the same way he doubted the mattress beneath was clean.

She was curled onto her side, knees bent and tucked up. Cute with that teddy-bear she used as a pillow, silly and stupid but cute because of it, especially in her uniform despite having left the tie and blazer off.

She was wearing her uniform.

Meaning... she’d either gone to bed with her clothes on and slept through the entire day, or she had planned on going to school this morning, but weaseled her way out like the weakly coward she was.

Well, in that case… what he was about to do would serve her right then...

Ought to teach her lesson.

He lifted his hand out of his pocket, producing a finger to poke her ankle softly, before stroking up a path alongside her socks, all four other digits joining in the stride before the fabric came to an end and his callous fingertips glided onto the doughy flesh of her leg, over the dome of her knee and onto her even softer thigh, coming to the edge of her skirt.

He always liked her in that skirt. 

That’s where his mind was at as he started lifting to see what underwear she was wearing, yet never getting that far as something sharp dug into each side of his wrist.

Her nails weren’t of course any close to lethal, yet managed to surprise him as she whipped around to meet him, digging the talons into his roughened skin.

She might not have prioritized figuring out who it was that was currently touching her in her bed, but she had assessed the situation enough to know that someone was in fact in her house and touching her, something of which is not a good omen when you live where she lived, nor in any other situation for that matter.

He tried subduing the splash of struggles that followed her awakening by climbing and crawling some further up on the bed in order to control what myriad of flailing limbs came at him. 

Soon, hands that had primly started clawing at him were safely locked in his much larger hands.

“Oi, relax! It’s just me!”

As if it being him would have any other effect than of rising her already racing heartbeats. Yet, even as her lungs heaved for as much air as her tight chest would allow her, he managed to capture her focus, her hands pinned to each side of her head whereas her feet were stopped amidst their kicking, crushed beneath the weight of the much stronger, much more encompassing mass and weight of Katsuki’s legs.

He hunched over her, back arching with his face a mere half-foot away from her own, the only thing supporting his upper-body being his arms, which were stretched out and grasping at her wrists, pushing them into her pillow.

Her eyes were large with craze-ridden fear as they locked with his recognizable carmine ones. 

“Bakugo?” 

Shocked and scared, with the creeping feeling of anticipation waving over her again, now all for different reasons then when she first understood there was an intruder in her caravan. 

Somehow, it being Bakugo gave her an even starker unsettling eerie feeling than if it had been a total stranger. Maybe because oblivion is bliss and knowing what is to come makes the inevitable that much more inescapable. 

Still, she demanded he tell her, even though she thought she might already know the answer. 

“What are you doing? Why are you here!?”

“You weren’t at school.” He stated, spoken as though it preforming as explanation enough, though serving as far from it to the girl beneath him, the confusion shown in the way she scrunched her brows together.

He noticed, contemplating whether or not he should make his reasons known, but deciding against it and for playing with her for just a little while longer.

“I thought, since you managed to wiggle your way out of your punishment at school, I’d bring the punishment to you.” 

He searched her features for any cracks in her composure, but though she looked beyond uncomfortable, she made no moves to push him off.

Her eyes squinted instead, narrowing at him. 

“I’m not scared of you, Bakugo. I know you’re not gonna hurt me.” 

Her body started twisting under him. The action far from vigorous, mainly meant to show her discomfort as she knew she wouldn’t go anywhere unless Katsuki decided she could.

And though the intention to her wiggling was not to evoke his arousal, it most certainly managed to do just that.

He inhaled sharply and she felt her body freeze up, seize at the feel of his hips making a shift to slot himself against her, grinding down onto her flattened and unmoving body.

“Hurt you?” 

He let out a low rumble of a laugh, like building thunder. 

“Who said anything about hurting you?”

Her breath strained as his eyes scrunched closed upon her jerking, his own teeth sinking into his bottom-lip to maintain the hiss on his tongue at the pull in his pants, his head descending to nuzzle against her chest, spiky hair poking at her chin. 

Mouth breathing hot breaths onto her ear, causing her to whimper.

“Thought you just said you weren't scared?”

She swallowed thickly, improperly giving his rhetorical question an answer, feeling her wrists go numb under his hold and her blood running cold.

“Bakugo…?” 

He didn’t answer and she felt herself go even more rigid at the absence of his voice.

It wasn’t often Katsuki didn’t speak back to her when she willingly spoke to him. In fact, it was never. But now, he was quiet, too quiet, making the frightening rugged sound of his heavy breathing overwhelm her ears, dulling her senses in the process before everything being sent into hyperdrive upon the feeling of his hand leaving her one wrist to cup her breast outside her shirt, giving the mound a careful and slow yet full squeeze.

She yelped at the sudden attack, her body jumping up against him, making yet another teasingly harsh contact with his clothed cock.

This time he hissed, both upon her delicious little struggles but also because her newly freed hand had actively made the decision to pull his hair as a desperate means of making him move.

It worked to some extent, at least in freeing her other hand which opened for the opportunity to drag herself out from beneath him. 

Yet, the action was stopped in a series of rather clumsy fighting, where Bakugo managed to retract the upper-hand once again, pinning both her wrists with one hand whilst tugging loose his tie with the other. 

He’d slotted himself between her legs now, her skirt spreading and hiking up her thighs as she struggled to stop him from tying her wrists together and fasting them to the handicap-bar mounted on the side of the bed, yet failing.

Her body free for him to touch now, to tamper and play with, and she felt her heart catch in her throat, small pleas coming erupting from the place because of it, but he didn’t seem to hear her, and if he did, he was electing to ignore the pitiful sounds.

His hands traveled down her sides, thumbs rubbing over the scratchy material, the fabric of her shirt stiff as a result of using dollar-store laundry detergent.

White shirt; made up of thin fabric to make the fight against the Tokyo-heat easier, yet resulting in it being so temptingly easy to make see-through with just a little spill of water. Water Katsuki was always so eager to pour, either with light teasing spritzes from his water-bottle or in carrying her over his shoulder into the showers and holding her there as the water rained down upon her, drenching both her and himself, then offering ever so mockingly if she would like to borrow a shirt, because unlike her he had a dorm-room with fresh and dry clothes, whereas she only had that one uniform and all other clothes made up of more holes than actual textile.

He chuckled at the memories as his fingers moved up-front and centre to tamper with the buttons.

“I bet you just hate this uniform, don’t yah?” His voice, although maintaining the snicker, was soft. Not loud and abrasive and rushed, but as though he was enjoying himself, thoroughly at that, drinking in the moment.

His movements too, were slow; careful.

Large warm hands stroking down the bare skin of her stomach, feeling the tremors as he did so, with eyes glued to those perfect mounds found beneath what looked like a well-worn sports-bra, making him wonder what she’d look like if he were to dress her up in expensive red lace. She’d be mouthwatering to look at either way, and breasts are just as soft whichever way they’re dressed… it’s not like the bra is staying on for too long anyway.

He swallowed thickly to stop his mouth from dripping.

He tucked her shirt out from her skirt, taking a moment to grip her midriff and squeeze to try and ease her struggling. 

It only resulted in her thrashing even more, whirlwinds of panicked get-off-me’s and fuck-you’s and stop’s spilling from her mouth in rapids, but the plead seemed to repel off Bakugo’s ears like water off a ducks back where the desperation only aided in satiating his sick sadism, in the same fashion tears fell from her eyes aided in making his stomach churn or flutter with something he could only describe as bliss, her arms trying to the best of their efforts at tugging at her bonds, to no avail except for making the skin found their chaffed and sore.

He spent a few seconds deciding whether he wanted the skirt on or off as he felt up the fabric between his fingers, more memories flushing his mind with such sweet and potent nostalgia of him lifting up the short excuse for coverage in the school-halls every day to sneak a peak at her underwear, or those times he would bend her over classroom-desks and push his bulge where it would fit so snuggly against her ass.

“Kinda feels like this skirt gets shorter and shorter for each year...” He mused, stroking up the skin of her thighs, lifting the fabric in the process, revealing a pair of black cotton boxers which, despite being lackluster, forced a groan to rumble from his chest.

The fuck-you’s had turned to please’s and the change made a smirk curl onto his lips as he put his lips to the inside of her thigh before pulling away to look down at her, all spread open and quivering for him. 

Breasts all perfect, squished together in the comfort of her bra, hair splayed on top of the pillow, her nose turning all red and adorable with her eyes brimming with both panic and tears.

Her skin felt so soft and untouched beneath his fingertips as he stroked up and down her thighs, pulling them towards him, as far as the bonds on her wrists would allow, slightly struggling with how much the panic had taken a hold of her, her legs kicking and flailing.

But he liked it that way. 

Messy and desperate.

“Don’t be difficult, Quirkless, you’re not getting out of this.” He spoke so calmly, so collected and controlled and determined. As though he wasn’t doing anything wrong, as though this was his right. “This is the only thing you’re any good for anyways.”

He leveled with her clothed little sex, slung her legs over his shoulders, watched as she squirmed upon his breath, heard her whimper and plead with his name as he stuck his tongue into the fabric, her legs doing a little involuntary kick while her thighs where firmly secured in his hands.

“Worthless quirkless little pussy on legs.”

She sobbed as his fingers latched around the ribbon of her underwear, pulling, tearing the fabric, with no need to pull it down her legs, just a need to pull them off.

A content and knowing smile made its way onto his lips, yet she was unable to see it in her position, something of which she was thankful for, or… as thankful as one can be when being defiled by a friend. 

Not that Bakugo was much of a friend anymore, but he had been, at some point before he'd offered more than one concerning opinion about quirkless people and their place in the world.

Of her place in the world.

He didn’t share her nostalgia though, not when the future was smiling at him with the face of her shaven warm pussy right in front of him.

“Did you get yourself all nice and ready for me? Huh? Knew I was coming?” He teased as she shook her head sporadically, unable to form any type of words in her overwhelming embarrassment and fear and panic.

He grinned smugly, despite knowing it was due to her spot on the swimming-team she kept herself clean and hairless, also knowing that the only reason she took swimming-lessons was because she and her mom couldn’t afford the hot-water bill, making her take showers at school instead, and that a spot on the swimming-team gave her a free-ticket to using those showers anytime she wanted.

How many times had he snuck in there to watch her soap up her body?

How many times had he palmed his erection to the sight of her?

How much he’d wanted to waltz in and take her against the cold tiles, make steam roll off the walls, hearing her voice echo his name... 

Now he had the real deal though, no more time for fantasies.

She was smart, she was resourceful, but not enough to put a lock on her door.

She was lucky if one thought about it.

Lucky it wasn’t just any random guy who walked in and took her like Bakugo was going to take her.

Lucky it wasn’t just anyone’s tongue jutting out to lick up her spread folds.

Lucky it was Bakugo who was hugging her thighs close to him, using them as soft warm pillows as he nuzzled between them to lick and suck and bite at the little bundle of nerves found right there in front of him.

Lucky it was Bakugo that had her squirming and quaking and whimpering and crying. 

Because, taking everything into consideration, she was safe with him.

Safer than she would or even could be with anyone else for that matter.

Who else could really protect her like he could, like he will, like he has?

She should be grateful he still wants her after she rejected him, humiliated him like she did. She was sure going to pay for it tonight. But first, he could at least treat her to what she had been missing, especially when thinking of how much he was going to take from her before the day let up.

It almost made him feel bad.

Almost, being the keyword, because without it he wouldn’t have thought it funny how many noises she could make without alerting anyone from outside, how no one cared whether she blubbered out common sniveling protests and screams of his name, begging him to stop, or those equally loud yet scarce moans that sprung from her despite her not wanting them to, each time he sucked too hard or too harshly on her clit, teeth rubbing over the sensitive skin found there. Her hips dancing a panicked series of shimming from side to side, controlled in his grasp and only aiding in his tongue finding new places to lick and suck at as he laid abusive worship onto the temple between them. Nose bumping and dipping and rubbing onto places too tender as his mouth moved lower.

Her knees jolting as he kept them spread open, claws digging into the grabbable flesh each time she would pound the ball of her heel into his back, the movement always falling still upon the building simmering threat of explosions in his palms, pain much sharper than that of his nails.

She wanting nothing more but to wrench away, especially upon feeling the shameful treacherous dripping of herself down onto the bedsheets, disgusted with her body, humiliated beyond repair, with the tongue of Katsuki lapping up what mess he had made out of her, teeth from a grin gracing in feather-light motions, yet still managing to shoot electricity up her core. 

All she could do was pant and sob through moans and trying her best to force out more protests even though she knew it was to no use, until she felt him pull away, leaving her cold in loss of contact with heat. 

She doubted his removal was because she’d begged it from him.

Her doubts being answered as she heard the crisp clatter of a belt-buckle opening.

Her eyes were swimming, gifting her with more panic as she wasn’t even able to see what he was doing, yet knowing, again wishing she didn’t, wishing she was rather deaf as well as blind, wishing all her senses to simply give away, all so that she didn’t have to witness what she was surely soon going to have to be the victim of.

She heard the clothes dropping to the floor, looked up at him through bleary blurry eyes, still recognising the sandy nuance of his skin fully on display before her. 

His large hands found her knees again, prying them open. His hips fitting between her thighs.  

“Ba- ba- Baku- go,  plea- please, don’t- don’t… stop.” She choked on her tears, on her fear, on her panic, on the feeling of the cold breeze making her exposed sex shiver and beg for something warm to fill it up, on her disgust.

“Don’t stop?” He snickered, pinching her clit between his fingers, making her arch with a whine before trying to wrench away, yet stopped by his hands steadying on her knees, spreading her open for him.

His cock-head delved between her folds, and he had to catch a pathetic whimper from escaping his throat, settling for biting his lip instead and ridiculing the reason as to why he was feeling so weak in the first place. Growling at the little girl beneath him, all tied up and defenceless and hopeless and pathetic, but still able to make him feel so small.

“I knew you were just a stupid slut.”

It helped hearing her scream for him. 

It helped hearing her choke on her own gasps as he filled her tight little space up with the warm length of his cock. 

It helped feeling her squeeze and seize around the girth of him, hugging him close and tight, filling and stretching her out so nicely.

She had resorted to hectic crying, no words, no protests, just sobbing, hiccupping, coughing up her own cries. 

And, although he imagined himself growling and groaning he fell short of those guttural rusty sounds and fell prey to whimpering like a lovesick puppy humping a plushie-toy instead. 

His hands holding onto her hips as though letting go meant death as he rolled his hips into her, feeling her warm velvety walls welcome him home.

It felt so good he nearly barreled over, his face buried in her chest, hand coming up to enclose over her mouth as so to stop the cries and hear those soft muffled moans she made instead.

Small stifled broken wet mews spurred into his palm, as he kissed a trail up the valley of her chest and onto her neck, whispering with his breath shaky.

“If it makes you feel any better… this is my first time too.”

He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe because he was suddenly regretting his decision of being a monster, or maybe because the fright of being vulnerable disappeared at the feeling of conquering what made him afraid.

“I spread a rumour in second that I fucked Ururaka just to see your reaction.” He let out a breathy laugh, the open smile on his face indicated his nostalgia, as though it were a fond memory. “But you didn’t care at all did you?”

He snapped his hips forward, hitting something painful making her scream beneath his hand, opening it to hear her sob out in whimpers.

“Did you?!” It was accusatory and loud and right next to her ears, as he bared his teeth.

She was sure she was bleeding, feeling as though he was tearing her up, splitting her open, every harsh thrust felt deep within her abdomen, churning her guts.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor- sorry!” She spluttered out, more thick gulps of tears streaking her cheeks with red.

“You know what I think?” 

He leaned in closer, his nose poking into her cheek, lips brushing her ear, hands now having moved to cup her knees, pushing them up into the bedsheets beside her shoulders, hiking her up to meet his sharp thrusts. 

“I think you wanted this…”

She shook her head as his grin gleamed from seeing her discomfort.

“Leaving your door unlocked like that, you were begging for this to happen.” He laughed, biting her earlobe, heavy balls clapping against her ass.

She sniveled. “You- you know we can’t afford-” She started, but was cut off by her own broken moan as Bakugo yet again made another sharp movement, sending an earth-shattering smack to fill the crammed space of her RV, and then again cut off by Bakugo’s own response.

“Yeah? But you could still afford that dress you wore to Homecoming couldn’t you?” He sounded crazed, upset and angry and obsessed with making her regret it. “When you went with that fucking extra instead of me?” 

His forehead pushed against hers, eyes a feral red and large with rage, watching in sadistic glee as she scrunched her eyes together in pain, trying to block his voice out from her head. 

“Yeah, I bet you’re sorry now.” He growled, again taking a break from his series of shallow thrusts to push deep into her, making her whine in wet agony. “That was the worst mistake of your life and you’re gonna make it up to me tonight.”

He pushed himself up, looking down at the crying mess he was buried inside, licking his lips.

She couldn’t stop apologising, as he fucked into her, her hands going numb under the bondage of his tie around her wrists. 

“I’m sorr- sorry-” She croaked, face burning from her tears.

“Yeah? You better be.”

He gathered her ankles in his hands, holding them up, one hand coming to roll her sock down her leg.

“You’re gonna be.”

His hand caressed her small bare-foot tightly, thumb digging into her sole, his mind drifting to how cute and tiny it was, smaller than his hand, and strangely soft for someone who chooses to walk everywhere to save money.

“I’m sorry-” She blubbered. “I’m- I’m sorry...” 

She struggled for breath between her apologies and cries, forgetting how to inhale as Bakugo’s cock crammed into her, stripping her lungs of their air.

He kissed the pad of her foot, before leaning down again, hands once more cupping her knees and pushing them against the mattress.

“Good.”

She quaked beneath his stare, his sharp teeth too close as she cringed at the wet creamy sloshing sound of his cock pounding into her.

She had to look away, wanting to twist to hide her face in her pillow and cry until he was done.

But he wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me when I fuck you.”

Gathering her face between his fingers, he scrunched her lips together as his own face closed in, his teeth coming to bite down on the vulnerable pout.

“You’re nothing without me, you understand that?”

One of his hands seized around her throat, adding slight pressure to accommodate his words.

“Good for nothing.” He spit. “Except for being my little slut, right?”

His claws scratched her throat, making her mewl and suck at her bitten bruised lip, tasting the metal.

“Come on, slut, I asked you a fucking question!”

Again, he angled his cock to jut into her painfully, making her gasp in strained pain at the stretch, followed by a sob.

“I’m just a slut-” She sniffled, eyes spiralling when looking into his unforgiving scarlet ones.

He smiled again, kissing her cheek.

“Who’s?”

The kiss became a lick, as he dragged his tongue up her tear-slicked cheek.

“Who’s slut?”

He felt her tremble and stiffen under his tongue, her eye’s squeezing shut.

“Your slut.” She answered, but it proved not to be good enough as another sharp painful thrust hit her core. “Bakugo’s slut.” 

She knew it was wrong the second she said it as a growl rumbled against her neck, his teeth gracing, scraping against her tender flesh. 

“Katsuki’s slut!” 

The words all broken and wet and beautiful coming from her bloated and reddened lips.

He placed a chaste kiss to her jaw, nibbling his way up to her mouth, whispering upon them. “Yeah, that’s right, you’re nothing without me.”

He kissed roughly, growling for her to kiss back, hand still tightly locked around her neck, begging for her to refuse him only for him to squeeze the life out of her.

His tongue pushed into her mouth as he slobbered and drooled above her, mouth sucking on her lips, trailing down her jaw and down her throat, nibbling and biting and lapping at her skin like some hound drooling over steak.

His hand left her throat to grasp her clothed breasts as he hit a particular spot, calling an unintentional bucking of her hips into him, making him groan in pleasure, his own thrusts gaining speed, hitting that same spot he now knew would make her unravel.

“You’re so lucky to get my cock.”

He worked himself into a taller position again, dragging himself off her chest to admire what artwork he’d made of her collar and chest.

“Say you love it.”

She shook her head, a petty begging-look on her face. 

It was a weak protest, almost enough to make him let it go, yet still outweighed by his need to make her pay.

His hips suddenly thrusting into her deeply, sharply, in all the ways he’d found out hurt.

She cried out. “No, no, Bakugo, please!” Panicked sobbing, her chest arching in pain, her legs coming to kick him off, yet were stopped as he pushed her knees into her chest. Jutting into her brutally.

“Say you love it and I’ll go slower.”

He saw her knuckles whiten at how hard she was balling her fists, tugging at her bonds desperately.

“I’ll fuck you good.” He promised, finding himself grow excited upon the thought. “Nice and slow like lovers do.” He had to snicker, even as she sobbed and hiccupped up screams that caught in her throat at his sharp thrusts, her eyes screwed tightly shut, allowing no tears to drop yet leaving them swimming in stinging salt.

His head dropped again to her temple, lips nibbling lightly on her cheek bone, his heavy breaths sounding louder than what snapping noise was made between his hips and the softness of her ass.

“Come on…” He drawled an impatient growl into her ear, a rumble that strung another whimper out from her.

More sobs followed, broken in their execution. “I love it… I love it.”

She hadn’t screamed it the way he wanted, but hearing it hang loosely onto her cries, all trembling and weak, was somehow better than what he thought he’d wanted anyway.

He slowed down, enough to lessen the sound of flesh slapping flesh and for the squishy noise of him filling her up again and again to replace it.

“What do you love?”

He made his way to rip open the seams of her shirt on her shoulder, not caring in the moment that she didn’t have a spare uniform to replace it. The shirt gone before she could even answer his question.

“You’re cock, I love you’re cock.” She sobbed, as her bra met with the same fate her shirt had, leaving her in just her little black skirt and one sock remaining, her tits springing loose, bouncing on both her cries and Bakugo’s movements.

“Fuck, good, such an obedient little pet.”

His head fell into the newly presented bare flesh with a moan, heavy panting as he slobbered up the valley between her breasts, palming the soft mounds before twisting the nipples between his fingertips, pulling at them, playing with them, his mouth sucking and biting, teasing the tender sensitivity.

His hands quitting their torment in favor of holding onto each their knee to keep her spread open for him as he rolled deeply into her spot.

“Feels so fucking-” He groaned, not bothering to finish the thought, before another impulse struck him.

His position in having his face buried in her neck and his body laid tight and snug on top of hers moved, making her feel the wisp of a chill coat her as their warm sweat-slicked bodies parted, feeling almost as though they were glued together as he pulled away, cock still being kept warm inside the comfort of her walls.

His hands came up to fickle with the knot that kept her hands locked above her head, his fingers sloppily tugging to loosen the tie, before gripping her hips tightly in a fashion meant to make sure she understood that despite being loose she was far from actually free.

Lifting her up of the spot she’d sunk into on the mattress and on to straddling his torso, his feet hitting the ground with a dunk with her propped up on his thighs, every little movement of his adjusting making his cock poke and message into other new dangerous places, places too tight to be attacked in whichever reckless unthoughtful way Bakugo saw fit.

Fingers running, or rather digging into her skin and making way to rake up her sides, grabbing and clinging to her midriff to pull her close, with his thighs beginning to impatiently move in a boyish manor to satiate the need for friction his member craved.

One arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand made to grab her chin, allowing him to look over her, again tempted to bite into those lushes red lips, all bloated and made for his teeth to gnaw on. Yet, his mouth made way to her neck instead, licking up her throat, sucking on the thin skin, wanting to make his mark flourish in red explosions all over her.

“Be a good quirkless slut and bounce on my cock, make yourself useful for once.”

His knees jolted upwards making her hop, followed by his cock sinking deeper into her.

Her hands held uncertainly mid-air made to grip his shoulders at the further intrusion, biting back another cry, however unable to keep the sobbing sigh from rupturing her throat.

However, she wasn’t given long to recover as his hand came down to plant a red-hot slap on her ass, making her jump on her own.

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

She started moving, unsure of what or which way to do it, finding the rhythm of rocking her hips forward after a while, earning a disgusting sigh of satisfaction from the blonde holding a bruising grip on her.

“That’s right...”

His arm moving to hold a death-grip on her waist, thumb digging into the underside of her ribs, poking each time she lolled forward and at the same time threatened her to stop.

His other hand came to grip her face again, stiff lips crashing against teary lips. Sucking her face as though stealing her life-source, only breaking between breaths to announce cocky cruel comments and instructions.

“Stay right there, slut.” A thrust from his hips accompanied the nickname, making her wince and lurch forward into him. “Aww that’s cute.”

Both his hands went under her skirt to grab at her ass, lifting her up only to sleeve himself inside her once again.

“Does that feel good? Huh? Right there?”

Another slap and she rested even harder against his chest, trying to find comfort in the pitch black her screwed-shut eyes left her in, yet the overwhelming scent of caramel wasn’t easily ignored, and neither was how perfectly his cock sunk into her.

His hands fingered the fabric of her skirt as he bumped into her from beneath. Tugging on the textile until ripping it off, the action earning her gasp as she was now wearing nothing but her one sock, the skirt having provided as some false sense of coverage.

“Is the slut enjoying herself?” He mocked, a salacious grin constantly spreading on his face between moans and grunts.

She shook her head, the urge to fight herself to freedom awakening yet again as her hands moved to push at his chest. 

“No… stop.”

But her back was supported, or rather steadied, with Bakugo’s large palm, little sparking ignitions gaining control of her struggles quickly, the fight leaving her body with a whimper of defeat, just as quickly as it had arrived.

Another sharp thrust ripped a strangled moan from her and he grinned. 

“Liar.” He snickered. “You’re gonna cum on my cock like a good little slut 'cause that's the only thing you know how not to fuck up, only thing your whore mom ever taught you.”

Forcing her hips to roll faster, the slick coated their thighs as her tits bounced for him.

“Does she share this bed with both you and her crackhead fuck-friends?” 

He couldn’t defend his need to make her cringe in his arms, why he wanted to see her ashamed, why he wanted her crying into him. 

“Such a freak. Are you gonna cum on the same sheets your mom sleeps on?”

Sharp fingers dug into her cheeks again, all because he wanted to be entertained by the show of her breaking.

He pulled her hips closer, fighting to hit that spot that had her mewling earlier, wanting to hear her mewl again, wanting to prove his point.

Once he found it she fell flush against him, melting in his hands, soft-spoken moans falling like drool down her chin.

“Like that, right there?” His words fell hot on her lips as his thumb pushed into her mouth and down onto her tongue, holding her chin in place. 

Her eyes crossed then upon his cock nudging in just the right way against her cervix, as well as her brows drawing up into a pretty eruption. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” He groaned, clutching tighter onto her hip, rocking her forward to meet his thrusts. “Are you gonna cum on my cock, huh?”

With his thumb still dipped into her mouth, she tried her best to retort. 

“No…” 

It couldn’t be referred to as defiance as it was too pitiful to be called that.

“Yes, you are.”

He sucked on her collarbone, making his way up by kissing a trail of slobbering kisses and bites to her ear. 

With his hips still angled just right, his thumb left her mouth to grip her other hip. 

He could feel her tight little pussy start to convulse around his shaft, small flutters that squeezed him tightly, milking him.

She hated that she wanted to spill over so badly. The surging swimming boiling buzz constantly teased by Katsuki’s plush cockhead pushing and poking and jabbing at her cervix again and again.

She felt it coming, the snapping, breaking, splitting, the building coming close to bursting, yet she was reminded of who she was with in her reach for bliss and found herself regretting chasing it.

“No, no, not with him, not with him, not-”

It was too late as she tried holding it back, tried grasping it as hard as she was clamping down on his cock, as hard as she was digging her nails into his shoulders.

The movements of his hips slowed down. 

“There you go. Feel good, slut?” He mocked as her body spasmed, skin freezing over under his touch, feeling disgusted, skin-crawlingly disgusted with herself and how she was unable to control the continuous spasms that seemed to ricochet through her spontaneously. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

His speed picked up again, humping into her, making her ride through her orgasm, feeling the almost painful ticklish pressure build again upon each time he bottomed-out ruthlessly inside the comfort of her wet walls.

“No, Bakugo stop, stop!” Her pleads weren’t met.

“Is it too much?” He laughed, gathering a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck in order to make her look up at him, making her wince as he spit his words into her face. “Mommy didn't do too good a job at raising her slut, I see. Can't even handle cumming without crying." He jeered, mock pouting at her with his forehead pressed into hers, blood-soaked orbs forcing eye-contact from her wide tear-stained ones as she whimpered. "Aw, is my cock too much for the little whore?”

“Yes, stop!” She couldn't care less if she was answering some cruel nickname , the painful pressure assaulted inside her was something too vehement she needed to make relent, but yet again was her plead answered with a lack of mercy in an eerie whisper and nothing more.

“I’m not finished yet.”

All she could do was beg for him to finish… so that’s what she did. 

“Please...”

He gathered her face in his hand again, fingers squishing into her cheeks hurtfully as he made to sneer into her face. 

“Please what? Please fuck your whore cunt harder? Please make you cum again?”

Even as he snickered and mocked, his cock twitched at the sight of her. 

Eyes all puffy and swimming in her own tears, eyebrows knitted together, begging for mercy. 

Completely and literally held in the palm of his hand, yet her gaze still managing to make him feel fuzzy with the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh fuck, say you love me.”

Cold dread made up most of her body, what else was the rising crippling shameful feeling of something sweet knotting up somewhere in her lower abdomen again, this time harder than before as her already abused high was continuously pocked by Katsuki’s swollen cockhead kissing her cervix harshly again and again and again, driving her insane. And all of it made his demand impossible to answer, impossible to even comprehend.

Yet, she was in no position to refuse with her face held up between his fingertips and his crimson eyes boring holes straight into her terror-wide heart.

“Say you love me or I’ll cum inside you.” His voice lacking all she considered still human. Not a hint of remorse or guilt or shame or pity.

She gulped on her breaths, yet managed to voice the words. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Her eyes now unable to look away from him. Even as he picked up the painful pace, stabbing at her core, in places she had no former knowledge of, places the length of her fingers could never even as much as dream of reaching.

“Fuck.” A boyish virginal whimper laced the moan that escaped him at her words, satisfaction easing the raging and crazed look on his face. “I love you too.”

His toes curled painfully, cold and numb against the floorboards.

“I love you.”

Hands warm and sliding against dewy and doughy flesh.

"I love you."

Something pulling, straining, building to burst was chasing release, sending spasms to shoot through his shaft.

"I love you."

He knew what was coming. He knew it would be better than ever.

“We’ll get you a pill later, ‘kay?”

The guilt was washed over with the promise of painting her walls.

“It’s fine.” He tried reassuring as he felt her revolt in his arms, all her strength fighting to get off him, yet was no match against the force of his hands holding onto her, and his need to explode inside.

She resulted to begging instead. “No, no, Katsuki stop, don’t, please!”

Feeling her hope being crushed in his palm, picturing his laughing face as she turned her vision to black, his feral smile like supersonic light, dangerous and deadly and made to rip throats out.

And then it was done, she felt the last thrust like the last blow through her gut.

Cream filling her up, smearing between their thighs, Katsuki’s head resting on her shoulder with his hands holding onto her hips, fingers marking their presence into her back yet softening their grip with each of his panting breaths landing on her breasts.

Her blood ran cold through stiff veins, as though she were dead. Her skin crawling, as though rotting with mites. 

Sickness. 

Sickness in her lungs, in her throat, building, climbing up her pipes.

She slung herself off in a hurry, and with Katsuki coming down from whatever sick high he was riding, he wasn’t alert enough to catch her, which was probably a good thing because after her staggering her way to the bathroom, feeling his cum and her wetness leak out of her and drip along the inside of her thighs, she only barely made it in time to open the toilet compartment, get to her knees in the small space and haul her guts out into the small stained bowl.

Feeling like her mother, each time she came home all sweaty, mascara smeared with tears on her face like a garbage racoon, sticking her fingers down her throat and gagging until she collapsed on the floor, face laid in her own puke.

She heard Katsuki’s heavy footsteps, one and two before his hand met with her neck. Collecting her hair in a ponytail in his grip with the other hand encompassing her naked back.

She was afraid he was going to pull her up, expecting her scalp to soon scream in protest at the feel of her hairs being ripped up from their roots. 

Yet, as she awaited the torture… all she felt was the slow stroking of carefully placed paths running up her spine and then down to the small of her back in a manor either meant to be comforting or patronizing, with her hair being kept away from her face as she retched on repeat.

It was mostly just water and acid, and Katsuki made a mental note to make her eat later as he helped her up with his hands under her arms, supporting her when seeing how her shivering rendered her knees too weak to stand on her own, lifting her up on a tiny counter which would have been impossible for him if he were to try and sit on it, yet seemed the perfect size for her.

The ruff base of his thumb brushed the spit from the corner of her mouth, her large eyes meeting his own as he leaned in, soft weak hands only barely pushing against his chest in an act to stop him, but his lips pushed onto her anyway.

Parting with a string of silver connecting them, and he couldn’t help but fall prey to how beautiful she was even in her broken ugliness, how prettily her eyes fluttered with sticky eyelashes clutching together as though hugging for comfort, stray wisps of hair dancing in front of her face. Her wet breaths, sobbing breaths, hiccupping breaths, trembling past those soft pillow-y and blossomed lips, plump and full and bitable, or huffed through her nose, sniveling and sniffing and so very unfairly precious.

His thumb stroked over those lips, watching them quiver. 

He took time admiring her, feeling her cold fingertips vibrate against his chest, wondering if she could feel how hard his heart was hammering inside his ribcage with how much she was shaking. Wondering if she knew just how much he’d wanted this, how long he’d wanted this, how despite him ignoring her cries, that she understood how this wasn’t in vain, how he wasn’t just doing this because he could, that he was doing this because he needed to, that he wasn’t doing this because he hated her but because he loved her, loved her too much to let her simply slip from between his fingers again.

His fingers latched onto the band of her sock, pulling it down and off at her toes, finally leaving her completely bare.

“Let’s get you in the shower.”

He moved to pick her up, uncaring of her newly sparked urge to fight him.

“No, Katsuki…”

She tried pushing, she tried making him stop despite everything being slippery and sticky and gross. The want to cry herself to sleep knowing and finding some comfort in the fact that Katsuki was done with her and long gone outweighed the want to get clean.

“The water’s cold, you won’t like it.” She argued in a weak attempt to sway him from the idea, yet knowing full well that he didn’t care.

“Come on…” He drawled as he caught her bothersome fists by the wrists in his massive hands. “We’ll take a shower and then we’ll go get your pill…” 

He fought to find eye-contact. 

“We both know you don’t have the money for it anyway…”

Typical of him to mention her situation. Typical of him to use it against her. And though it was typical, though it was predictable, it still made her heart clench, her soul twist, her spirit crumble.

He swore he saw something start to break in her eyes, wanting to deliver the final blow to snuff out whatever fight she still had left. 

He leaned in more, his nose brushing against hers.

“You need me.”

Her struggles stopped at that, Katsuki wrapping her legs around his back to support her as he carried her to the shower. Her cheek resting on his shoulder, completely deflated.

It wasn’t at all as in the movies. Sweet couples who help wash each other’s hair, warm bodies gliding against one another, soft perfect handprints printed on the dewy glass.

She hadn’t been lying, the water was freezing as the showerhead spritzed the water down on them with a force close to that of aching.

They didn’t both fit in the crammed space either, Katsuki was sure that even him alone wouldn’t fit in the tight space, where he was left to have one foot on the floorboards outside the door, water rushing into the hallway, running down his leg, but he didn't care.

His frame blocked the door completely, allowing her no shape or form of exit as he made her stand there, under the showerhead, hair slicking to her neck and nipples perking into hardness under the freeze, goosebumps strutted and coated her flesh from head to toe, her cheeks and lips blossomed with a purple hue, her eyes closed, head dipped in discomfort or shame or embarrassment or sorrow or a bit of everything and even more.

Her body trembled beneath his warm hands, as they cupped her breasts, palming them and playing and pinching with her back hunching in a weak effort to get her discomfort across, despite knowing how he didn’t care, with the fact having been proven time and time again.

His warm calloused fingertips brushed down her abdomen, eyes stark and loud as they looked at her body, thinking of how unblemished and beautiful her skin was as opposed to him, no roughness or ugly greenish bruises, just milky smooth and rosy suppleness and all his.

His hand traveled further, causing her small ones to reach out and grip around his wrist, both hands giving their best effort at trying to stop him. Though his other hand was quick to wrap around her throat and extract a sweet gasp with the movement.

Her hands removed their pressure yet remained on him as he brushed featherlight touches over the sensitiveness of her sex, fingertips dipping into her folds, slithering in the slick velvet of his cum mixed with her wetness.

A sob ricocheted through her as her toes curled, fingers bending and nailing into his wrist. Still, he continued. Fingers pushing inside, pumped knuckle-deep inside the puffy spongey walls, reaching deep before scissoring, making her knees bend, yet kept from falling by the hand around her neck keeping her up like a noose as he curled the two digits.

Her eyes avoided his, looking down at his limp cock who somehow seemed just as intimidating as before, like a sleeping beast ready to wake at any second. 

Yet, as much as he played with her sex, his own remained still.

He picked her up again as he saw more of her skin going purple, not really wanting her to get sick, just refreshed.

Water flooded on the soft-with-mould floorboards in the tight hallway as her feet dragged against the walls when he yet again carried her to the bed. And as much as she wanted to fight as he placed her dripping body down onto the sheets, she couldn’t find the energy. Tears, however, still managed to drip down her face, unhurriedly gliding down her cheeks, warm in stark contrast amidst the freezing shower-water.

“Do you wanna hear something really fucked up?”

It was rhetorical, but he wouldn’t have gotten an answer either way.

“I used to be jealous of your crack-whore mother…”

Her face cringed, confused yet still not desiring to know what he meant.

“Fuck, I’m still jealous when you come to school and I see that there's somebody else who makes you cry harder than me.”

She had to swallow in order not to gulp.

“You’re sick.”

Those were the wrong words, for as quickly as they entered the air, he was once again on top of her, squeezing the breath from out of her lungs.

“I’m sick?” He questioned, fingers plunging inside her, a forced moan ripped from her throat. “You’re the one cumming and creaming and squirting all over my cock while crying.” He bit out while starting to pump into her cruelly, finding it easier now as she was already wet from before. “Telling me you love it, telling me you love me.” He laughed as he sneered. “Who would’ve known what a slut you are. So desperate you let your own bully fuck you like this. You fucking whore.” 

His pushed his thumb into her clit cruelly, a sadistic smile on his face as she struggled.

“Stop, shut up, shut up!” Her palms made to push at his hard chest, yet was weakened as she felt the burning sweetness start to pool were his fingers poked.

“You don’t like that nickname? No? Aww, that’s fine.” He hissed, then scoffed. “It’s not true anyway...” He muttered beneath his breath, trying to find what sweet spot his fingers could reach as so to have her unravel beneath him again, wanting to lick the sin from her expression, wanting to bathe in his victory of making her his. “How did it feel to have my cock balls deep inside your precious little virgin innocent cunt, huh? Better yet, how does it feel to know how I am your first? First to kiss you, first to fuck you, first to make you cum.”

“Fuck you.”

Any remnants of strength was now spent on those last words, as the rest was spared to support her oncoming orgasm, the one she could feel clawing, sucking all senses up as though preparing for an implosion.

“That’s right…” He whispered. “Fuck me. Your first and your last.”

His ominous tone had her guts churning, which in some sick sense only added to the pooling dam that was about to snap inside her, but she kept her eyes wide, further digging into what his words meant, wondering if this would be her last day on earth, wondering if Bakugo would be the last person she'd ever see, ever feel, ever touch.

“You look like I’m gonna kill you.” He observed as he curled his fingers once again, making her hips buckle into his hand, which in turn made him grin. “Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

His head dipped so that he could nibble at her neck, lick up the tender flesh with his fingers pumping in and out of her, coated in slick, collecting and drenching in his palm.

“I’m just gonna make sure no one ever touches what’s mine again…”

She couldn’t explain why the growl in his voice had her abdomen doing flips.

“Including that fuckface slut you call a mother.”

His fingers scissored, her back arching as she moaned.

“You’ll be lucky I even let you graduate.”

She couldn’t quite catch what he was saying anymore, just the lilt in his tone which had her falling apart beneath him, the walls of her pussy fluttering in pleasure.

“People go missing all the time.”

Her toes curled and she braced herself.

“That way I can have you all for myself.”

His warm lips pressed against her neck, his growls reverberating on her skin.

“All mine.”

His fingers poked at something that was about to burst and as she wanted to climb further up on the bed to escape it, she also wanted him to follow.

“Where you belong.”

And there it was, body melting into the mattress, all shame obsolete in those seconds.

Unable to see him lick her orgasm off his fingers as her eyes had crossed and traveled way too far into the back of her skull.

Unable to prepare for his kiss as her mouth hung open, soft feeble moans cut loose into the air, captured by Bakugo’s mouth.

She didn’t catch the second he stopped kissing her, nor did she catch the moment he got off the bed.

She must have fallen asleep for a short while because when she opened her eyes again Bakugo was dressed, rummaging through cabinets containing worn out clothes and things like it, seeming displeased with most of what he found.

She looked to her side, where placed on the bed was a towel, fresh underwear and a bra.

She motioned for the towel first, feeling the shameful wet stickiness between her thighs, hurriedly wiping it clean before putting on her garments, looking up to see Bakugo staring at her, having found something suitable to dress her in.

“Put this on.” 

She didn’t bother looking at what he’d so graciously offered her of her own clothes.

Her eyes narrowed at him instead. 

“I don’t want your help.” She sneered, looking away, crossing her arms over her chest as so to hide herself from his piercing gaze.

His fingertips were quick in clutching her cheeks, raking them into her skin as he turned her head back to look at him.

“Too bad, you need it.”

The fabric was cast at her lap unceremoniously, the soft silky feel cold against her bare thighs.

“Put it on.” The growl was followed by him removing his hand with a push.

She huffed before looking down at the presented article, wondering what Bakugo wanted to dress her up in, her lips forming a disgusted snarl.

“It’s my mother’s.”

The yellow summer-dress, flowy and frilly in texture, something she’d never wear, something Bakugo knew well she would never wear.

“It’d go to waste on her.”

This made her look up, curiosity or maybe even a form of flattery evident in the curl between her brows.

The sudden eye-contact catching Bakugo off guard as he’d shared the uncharacteristically tender opinion of the girl out loud.

He scoffed, crimson eyes darkening in an attempt to hide the building flustered panic, masking it with a growl instead. 

“Put it on, I won’t ask again.”

She fingered the fabric for a while longer before treading it on over her head, letting the skirt dress her thighs with a featherlight fall.

Looking like a spring-daydream, not at all as though she’d just lived through a nightmare.

With her drying hair falling in messy curled tousles down her shoulders, Bakugo reached out a hand to fasten the small wispy strands coming to tickle her forehead behind her ear, grabbing her wrists in favor of her hand when he pulled her up.

“Let’s go. I can’t stand this shithole.”

Wondering if he should have said that he couldn’t stand her in that shithole instead.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

#yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bakugo #yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bnha #yandere katsuki x reader #katsuki #bakugou katsuki #Katsuki Bakugō #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #bully bakugo #bully katsuki #bully!bakugo #bully!katsuki #sadistic bakugo #sadistic katsuki

[bangtanloverboys]

the first cringe of morning // myg

summary - there were many things one would be nervous about when their new partner spends the night for the first time: was the room clean? is everything in order? did you shave? but you weren’t really nervous about those things, you were nervous as to how he would preceive your scars

pairing - boyfriend!yoongi x trans male!reader

genre - fluff, slight nsfw; newly established relationship au

word count - 1.7k

warnings - mentions of top surgery, reader is slightly insecure of his scars, anxiety, bisexual yoongi, bed sharing, cuddling, non-sexual body worship, kissing, very light non-sexual dom/sub undertones, kinda soft dom!min yoongi, min yoongi being an absolute sweetheart

author’s note - hhhhhh dream scenario honestly. . .happy pride month

Taking a deep breath, you pulled your shirt up, exposing your chest. You stared at your torso in the mirror, your eyes zeroing in on the two thin scars that decorated your chest. You’d gotten top surgery barely a year ago, the scars nearly faded away. You were happy with the results, you’ve never felt happier or more comfortable in your entire life even. You would never go back on the decision you made to get top surgery.

However, it didn’t stop you from being nervous. Why were you nervous? Your new boyfriend, Yoongi, was going to spend the night for the first time ever. You’ve been dating for a few months now and you honestly couldn’t have been happier. You told him you were a trans man a few weeks after you felt like you were possibly getting more serious; he nodded, thanking you for trusting him with the information. While you knew he would do nothing of the sort, your brain couldn’t help but think of terrible outcomes if/when he was to see your chest. 

What if he thought you looked deformed? What if he pointed out your nipples and how they looked weird? What if after what if after what if, plagued your mind. It was stupid and you knew that, but your anxiety continued to eat away at you.

The night so far had been pretty good; he arrived with a couple grocery bags of goodies, as you did ask him to pick up some things on his way over. The two of you had a nice dinner, watched a couple movies, and you were both getting ready to settle down for bed. It was established earlier that you weren’t planning on having sex at all that night, neither of you feeling quite ready for that yet. But you slept shirtless, meaning you had the options of either A. getting it over with and showing him or B. sleep with a shirt on and possibly overboil. Anxiety on the rise, you went with the latter option. 

A knock on the bathroom door startled you, causing you to drop your shirt. 

“I gotta brush my teeth. You decent?” Yoongi asked from the otherside of the door. 

With a light chuckle, you unlocked the door, pulling it open for him. “Come in.”

Walking in, his toothbrush in hand, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you. Can I use your toothpaste?”

“Yeah, it’s in the little basket by the sink.” You gestured to the counter behind you. “I’m gonna get the bed ready.”

“Hey,” he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going any further. “You sure you don’t want me sleeping on the couch? Because I’m more than fine with that.”

“No, it’s okay.” You responded, hoping your voice sounded reassuring. Yoongi stared at you for a moment, possibly sensing your nervousness. He didn’t say anything, only nodding; trusting your words. After releasing your wrist, you made your way to your bedroom.

You had cleaned up everything earlier that day, looking nothing like the mess it was the past couple days. But you were satisfied with it, as long as there was no mess on the floor or dirty dishes anywhere, it was fine. With a sigh, you began taking off the decorative pillows you had on display on your full sized bed, neatly stacking them in a pile. As you continued to get the bed ready, your mind wandered, thinking about how you were going to sleep. Did Yoogni have any sleeping habits? Would he cuddle you while you slept? Would he mind the heat you tend to give off when you sleep? So many different random anxieties started to build up over the ones already there. 

“Are we not going to sleep with any pillows or something?” Yoongi’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. Immediately you realized you went a bit too far and even pulled off the actual pillows from the bed, stacking them alongside the decorative ones.

“Shit- I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away.” You gushed as you put the pillows back on the bed. 

“No worries.” You got a good look at him as he walked across the room, towards the bed. He was wearing a loose fitted T-shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants that were hanging low on his hips, and his hair was a mess from being tucked away in a beanie all day. “Do you sleep on any specific side of the bed or free range?”

“I sleep on the right side.” You said, pointing to the side you were closest to. 

“Alright,” he nodded as he made his way over to the left side of the bed. Pulling back the covers, he climbed into bed. You moved to follow him, but he stopped you. “You’re gonna sleep in your jeans?” 

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. “Right uh. Hang on.” You muttered as you turned around. As you shuck your jeans off, you can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you, causing the heat in your cheeks to spread to the tips of your ears. Standing in only your boxers and a T-shirt, you deemed yourself ready for bed. When you turned around to face him, you spotted a smirk playing on his lips. Avoiding eye contact, you clambered into bed, shutting off your lamp in the process, leaving you both in the dark room. 

The mattress beneath you shifted as Yoongi adjusted himself to lay down and get comfortable. “C’mere.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. You freeze in his hold for a moment, thinking he’s going to possibly make a move, but instead you feel him nuzzle his face into your hair. You smiled as you felt his breathing tickle the skin of your neck. Relaxing into his touch, you allowed yourself to fall asleep in his arms. 

When you woke up to the sunlight bleeding through your blinds, you were genuinely surprised to have slept through the whole night. Usually you’d wake up randomly, but Yoongi was a good luck sleeping charm that now you had, you probably won’t ever let go. You shut your eyes again, wanting a bit more sleep before either of you have to get up.

Just as your mind was about to fall back into sleep, you felt the light touch of Yoongi’s lips drag across the skin of your neck. He peppered soft kisses over the exposed skin, gently tickling you. You giggled at the sensation, but didn’t pull away. In fact, you snuggled closer into him. As he sleepily kissed you, you felt the hand that was still wrapped tightly around your waist ever so slowly slip underneath your shirt. The skin to skin contact had you stiffen. Feeling your discomfort, Yoongi moved to whisper in your ear. 

“Are you okay with this?”

“I-” You struggled to get the words out. “My scars. I- I don’t-”

“Hey shh,” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear before he readjusted himself on the bed, now hovering over you. “You can tell me, what about your scars?”

“I-I’ve. . . never really had a partner see my scars in a more. . . intimate setting. . .” You all but shrunk under his gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“No, Y/N, look at me.” His hand went to your cheek, gently forcing you to look up at him. Meeting his dark eyes, you feel nothing but adoration pouring out from them, overwhelming you. “I care about all of you, scars and all. You are the most handsome creature I’ve had the privilege of knowing.” You felt tears prick at your eyes, threatening to spill. Your hand went up to cup his cheek, bringing him down to meet your lips. The kiss was nothing too special, it was slow and gentle, yet it didn’t stop your heart from racing. Yoongi’s other hand was sneaking back underneath your shirt as he pulled away. “Is it okay if I show you?”

With a gulp, you nodded.

“Use your words, baby.” 

“Yes.” You rasped out.

Once given the green light, he pressed a kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your neck. He kissed down your clothed torso until he was over your hips, his hands slowly curling up the bottom of your shirt. His eyes never left yours as he exposed more and more skin, stopping just below your scars. Lowing his head to your stomach, he kissed you right below your belly button. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pecked all over your stomach; on occasion he’d catch you by surprise by blowing a raspberry, eliciting a laugh from you. 

He reached the edge of your shirt again, placing his hands on the fabric before moving it anymore. “Do you wanna take this off?”

“Yeah.”

It was a bit of a struggle but with Yoongi’s help, you got the T-shirt off. His eyes not once leaving you as he tossed the shirt to some corner of the room. The silence was thick as you watched him stare at you, saying nothing. Embarrassment burned in your cheeks as you moved to cover yourself, but his hands grabbed at your wrists, pinning them to your side.

“You’re absolutely stunning, Y/N.” He praised as he lowered himself to be over your ribcage. “Please don’t doubt that, I see nothing but the most beautiful man in front of me.” Yoongi muttered as he littered kisses along your scars, the sensation light from what little feeling you have left. His words left butterflies erupting in your stomach and your head reeling, trying to accept the compliments he gave you. You don’t think anyone has ever said that to you, hell, you don’t even think you’ve said that about yourself. But to have Yoongi tell you had you drunk. 

He’d nip at your skin, testing where you could feel, and when he felt you shutter against him, your boyfriend made sure to pay extra attention there. All while mumbling praises into your skin, assuring you that he thought nothing less of the world of you.

By the time his head came back up above yours, his lips were kiss swollen and you were breathless. Smiling down at you, he leaned down, kissing you one last time before pulling away. He laid his head down on your chest, snaking his arms around you to hold you tight. Your arms went to wrap around his shoulders, messing with his hair at the nape of his neck. There the two of you laid for the next few hours, as the sun rose higher in the sky, simply enjoying each other’s company.

#btsghostie #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader #min yoongi x trans male reader #bts x trans male reader #bts fluff #min yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part six] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

The case is concluded and Chuuya collects his prize. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

3,461 words

warning: mentions of violence, murder, nsfw, smut, slight voyeurism

note: so i lied, there is one more part, which will be nothing but smut so be excited for that hehe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || Masterlist

My ability is called Hell Hath No Fury and it gives me the ability to make a perfect clone of myself that is fueled by the anger, rage, pain and despair that dwells inside of me, and has been inside of me since I was small. The anger isn't something that's just there, I've been through a lot of things in my life that left my weary soul full of the negative emotions that powers my clone. I don't particularly like using my clone, as she could be quite scary. Like anger and hatred, she could be very hard to control sometimes.

"She is quite scary, huh?" Dazai hummed, voice full of humor as I told him about my ability, us now back at the ADA. I sat at my desk, shoulders slumped. "Took me by surprise~"

I laughed softly at him, shaking my head as I read the official report that was written at the conclusion of the Taichi investigation. There was an unreadable look on my face as I read through the text, Dazai swaying his chair from side to side beside me.

"It says that Taichi was killed by the drug dealer..." I repeated, grimacing as I recalled Chuuya shooting the same man right in his head. "I don't... know how to feel about this."

I was the one who killed Taichi, yet here I was, sitting at my desk in the ADA office with no consequences coming my way. Further reports say that the drug dealer soon met his own demise due to the retribution from the Port Mafia, which wasn't an exact lie.

"Just go along with it, Bella. The only ones who know the truth are-"

"I can't believe you would do something so... incredibly stupid." I winced as soon as Kunikida started barreling down on me, sighing as he continued to lecture me.

Of course, we had to tell Fukuzawa, as well as the rest of the core members of the ADA what happened. It was only fair, considering we had to make sure the story was solid. It was rather nerve wracking to say the least, and in total me fashion, I had cried right in front of the President.

I thought I would get fired, but all I got was a week's suspension. "Get some rest," Fukuzawa said to me, leaning back in his chair. "You're going to need it." I nodded my head, standing up and bowing to him quickly before I left his office.

"I guess I'll see you guys soon," I said to the others, holding my bag full of belongings in my hands. I gave them all one last wave before walking out of the office, aware of Dazai following behind me. As always, I chose to walk down the stairs, only going down two flights before I turned on my heel, dropping my bag and wrapping my arms tight around the taller man.

"Oof," Dazai gasped out before he wrapped his arms around me, chuckling a bit as he gave me a squeeze. "It's not like you'll be gone forever."

I sighed, keeping my face pressed against his chest. "I know. I think all the adrenaline from... everything finally left and now I honestly feel like shit. I'm so tired, Osamu."

"... would you like me to come with you?" Dazai asked and I shook my head, giving him a playful, scolding look.

"You need to finish that report, you lazy bastard," I replied, Dazai already whining and I rolled my eyes. "Call me later?"

Dazai stopped whining, gently cupping my face with his hand. He leaned in and kissed me, stealing my breath away as he always had. He smirked at my flushed face, stepping back. "Yeah. Now go."

I left him by the stairs, making my way back to my apartment. Now that I had a week off, I wasn't sure what I should do. I guess doing was Fukuzawa said and just resting would be a good thing, seeing as I was tired, both physically and emotionally.

But even as I try to sleep, I find myself tossing and turning, waking up every hour. I slumped on my back, letting out a frustrated breath as I stared at the ceiling.

"You know, bella... you're disrupting my beauty sleep," Dazai spoke from beside me and I rolled my eyes, huffing out a breath. Dazai chuckled softly, laying one arm under his head while the other rested over his tummy. "This will pass in time."

I sighed softly. "It's weird... I don't regret it."

"But you still took a life."

"Did you feel this way when you first killed someone?"

"... I honestly don't remember. When you're surrounded by nothing but darkness and carnage for a long time, stuff like that is nothing to be concerned about."

I frowned. "When you were in the Port Mafia... you were partners with Chuuya, right?"

"Like I said, we were the best~" Dazai sang and I smiled softly.

"Just imagining the two of you fighting together is kinda scary..."

"Well, when you have someone like Chuuya and the youngest executive in Port Mafia history, yeah, we were pretty scary!"

I choked. "You were an executive?!" I exclaimed in shock. I thought about Chuuya, and how he worked alongside the Leader of the Port Mafia himself. Dazai was that powerful? And with someone like Chuuya...?

"That's..."

"Terrifying?"

"Hot."

Dazai sputtered, bursting out into a fit of laughter. "You like dangerous men?"

I grinned widely, finally turning to cuddle against him. "Blame it on the daddy issues," I answered, making him snort. "Why did you leave?"

"You should try to get some sleep," Dazai replied, changing the subject and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Yeah, though I won't be surprised if I can't," I mumbled unhappily, shifting a bit to get comfortable. I closed my eyes, hearing Dazai chuckled softly as I started to doze off.

Unsurprisingly, I slept like shit that night, my eyes were sore, the bags under my eyes puffy and dark. I groaned, waving Dazai goodbye tiredly as he left in the morning, heading to work after I scolded him for trying to sleep in and skip work.

The door closed behind him and I let myself fall back on my couch, just staring into nothing for a while before I grabbed my phone, pressing on Keiko's contact and calling her. She didn't answer.

After pressing the button on the side of her phone to end the incoming call, Keiko sighed nervously as she approached the man sitting in the desk before her, hands shaking as she placed down a large, thick envelope.

"Here you go. That's all of it," she said softly, quickly withdrawing her hands away and clasping them together against her chest.

Chuuya watched her carefully, noticing just how scared and timid Keiko was acting, and he honestly didn't blame her, not after what she's been through, and especially how Taichi continued to throw her under the bus, even after his death.

"I swear... I had nothing to do with what he was doing..." her voice trembled and Chuuya sighed deeply. He dug into his drawer, producing a cigarette for both himself and Keiko. She allowed him to light hers for her and there was a silence as they each took a drag.

"I believe you," Chuuya started, leaning back in his seat. "He used your name to open that offshore account and the safety deposit box, making sure not to have this all trail back to him." Keiko hung her head and Chuuya thought back to when he first saw her. She was way more outgoing and cheerful, and admittingly had a very sensual, attractive aura that even he himself would be into if she hadn't been with Taichi.

It was a shame to see that all gone, all because of one coward. It pissed Chuuya off immensely. She was essentially betrayed by someone she trusted, and Chuuya could relate to that all too well.

"But, everything is finally coming to a close with all the money Taichi stole from us coming back. Don't worry, Keiko, our investigation makes it more than clear that you are innocent in this. You have nothing to worry about," Chuuya said, but Keiko still looked troubled. She said my name softly and he looked at her questionably.

"What about her...?" she asked softly. "Is she clear?"

"You did see the official report, right?" Chuuya replied in turn, taking another drag from his cigarette. Keiko nodded silently. "It wasn't that hard to form the story. There was at least some truth to it. The drug dealer was as good as dead... as well as Taichi. She just beat us to it. We can let this slide."

Keiko sighed in relief, taking another drag from her own cigarette. "That's a relief... I was worried about what would happen to her."

"Nothing," Chuuya answered. "And we will be keeping an eye on her for a while too."

Keiko nodded in understanding. "I'm still worried about her, though. She's been having a hard time sleeping and I'm sure it's just... everything finally getting to her..." Keiko sighed deeply, rubbing her eyebrows. "But I don't know what to do... she's in this mess because of me, I wanna help her but I don't even know how to help myself!"

"And that should be your main focus right now," Chuuya spoke, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't worry about her. I'll take care of her."

"But why?" Keiko questioned. "It's not like you care about her. Or love her."

Chuuya rolled his eyes. "There's no love there, but she's... fun."

Keiko snorted at that. "She's not one for love and relationships. I guess that's why she's involved with you, and Dazai. There's a mutual understanding there, and I guess if it works for you guys, then it's okay. But-"

Chuuya quirked an eyebrow. "But?"

"She's still sensitive. She wears her heart on her sleeve, so even if there really is no love here, I'm sure she still cares for you guys. That's just how she is. So I ask... just don't hurt her. That's all. If it all ends... just make sure she doesn't get hurt." Keiko clenched her fists. "I don't know what I'll do to you if she does."

Chuuya just stared at her, pleasantly surprised. He let out a short laugh. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes."

Chuuya grinned, laughing again as he shook his head. The loyalty in this friendship was honestly a sight to see. It was refreshing. "I don't usually respond well to threats, so I'll let this slide. You've done all you can do, so you can head on home if you want. If you're lucky, we won't see each other again."

"Well, if you're still seeing my best friend, we probably will," Keiko said, standing up, feeling a little less nervous. "Goodbye, Chuuya. Stay safe out there."

Chuuya nodded. "I hope you can heal and become your old self again. It's sad to not see that pretty smile on your face."

Keiko blushed brightly. "Shameless flirt," she shot at him playfully, turning away from him to leave. Chuuya laughed loudly from his desk.

"So, are you okay now?" I asked Keiko over the phone, her telling me about her meeting with Chuuya. She first apologized for ignoring my call, but it didn't bother me that much. I was only glad that she was doing okay.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Gonna spend the rest of the day home and figure out what to do."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well... I'm thinking of going away for a while. Maybe for six months... just to heal and find myself again."

"Six months?! What about your job?"

"I quit. I want to start my life over again, but I love Yokohama, so I figured... I can get another job when I come back! I'm gonna sell my condo too!"

I was stunned. "I... but where do you plan on even going?!"

"Hm... maybe Europe? I'm not sure yet. Are you... okay with me leaving?"

"Of course! I support you with everything you do in your life. I just want you to be safe and okay..."

"I'm glad. I'm pretty determined, but don't worry! I will always come home!"

Keiko and I talked for a while after that, a smile on my face as we ended the call. I was happy to see that Keiko was trying to turn her life around, proud of her for being so strong. It was rather inspiring, and helped me to gain my own strength to get my shit together as well.

The day went on, and I was in the kitchen making an early dinner when there was a knock on my door. I was annoyed, thinking it was Dazai flaking out on work again, but as I opened my door, I was surprised to see a certain red head at my door.

"Chuuya?"

"Wow. You look like shit."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, turning and walking back into my kitchen, Chuuya following behind me.

"Gee, thanks."

"What are you doing?"

"Cooking an early dinner. You want some?"

"Yeah, sure."

It wasn't long until Chuuya and I sat across from each other, chowing down on some food and filling our bellies.

"So, what's up?" I asked him, drinking some water. Chuuya was still stuffing his face, almost choking at one point before he downed his glass of water to save himself.

"Well," Chuuya coughed. "I came here to collect my prize."

I blinked. "Your prize? What are- oh," I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. That stupid race Dazai proposed. Chuuya was the one who figured it all out first, and I was the prize for the lucky winner. "So, you wanna have sex later then? I'm cool with that."

Chuuya scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "No. Well, yes, but no. Not yet. I'm taking you somewhere."

I raised my eyebrows. "Where?"

"Shut up and don't worry about it. You'll see when you get there."

I narrowed my eyes at him, just wondering what the fuck he was up to. What could it possibly be that he wouldn't tell me what his plan was? It was rather suspicious and I began to grow wary.

But we finished eating and Chuuya didn't even give me a chance to pack before he dragged me out of my apartment. I managed to get my keys, phone and purse, and I gave him the stink eye the entire time I was stuck in the backseat of a fancy car with him.

"Are you having me killed?"

"I will if you don't shut up."

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest as Chuuya took me to my supposed doom. But we arrived at our destination, and I was extremely confused as I looked up at the rather luxurious hotel. I didn't get the chance to question it, Chuuya leading me inside. We were immediately greeted by the hotel attendants, and led to the elevator. We rode it all the way to the top floor, the attendant leaving us alone as the doors opened and we walked out into the hallway.

"Chuuya..." I let out a small breath as he led me inside the penthouse, my jaw dropping as I took my first look at the very luxurious space. "What is this?"

"Keiko told me you were having a rough time," Chuuya spoke, taking off his hat and then his jacket, hanging them up carefully. "I figured this would help you. Full body massages, jacuzzi, anything you could ever want to just... relax. It's all here."

"But... Chuuya, you didn't have to," I whispered, still in awe with my face heated up.

"Well, just deal with it," Chuuya huffed.

"Isn't this expensive though?"

"It's nothing. Just... think about this as my prize. Taking care of you."

Now my face was burning hot, Chuuya's own flushed red. I gave him a look, his words making me smile a bit despite how flustered they made me.

"You sound like a sugar daddy."

He didn't respond. That made me giggle. "How long will we be here."

"For the week, until you get back to work."

"But how did you..." I trailed off, gasping when Chuuya gave me a light push further into the penthouse.

It was an amazing, large open area space with a full kitchen, all the top appliances, a flat screen and a huge king size bed. The bathroom was just as fabulous, the large soaker tub calling my name.

"Oh, I need to get in that," I declared, making Chuuya laugh lightly. He watched as I looked around the bathroom, taking it upon himself to start filling up the tub. I turned to him and smirked. "Will you join me?"

"Like you have to ask that."

After finding a nice smelling bath bomb to put in the tub, Chuuya and I undressed and carefully climbed inside, sighing blissfully as the hot water immediately began to relax our muscles. I sat between Chuuya's legs, my back against his chest and my head resting against his shoulder. My eyes were closed, Chuuya's strong hands roaming all over my body.

"Tired?" Chuuya asked me softly and I sighed, nodding my head.

"Yeah... like Keiko said, I've been having a shit time sleeping," I answered, turning my head to lightly kiss Chuuya's jaw lightly. "But maybe a relaxing massage would help. Oh, but it's kinda late, huh? The masseuse would be gone by now."

Chuuya's hands continue to roam my body, one moving south. I let out a deep sigh when he began to rub circles on my clit.

"Yeah... but I can think of other ways to make you sleep," Chuuya whispered in my ear before he bit into my earlobe. I sigh again, Chuuya then capturing my lips with his own.

After making me cum on his fingers in the tub, we finished up in there before we found ourselves tangled up in the sheets of the king sized bed. Chuuya had my legs thrown over his shoulders, his cock plunging deep into me with every thrust he made.

"You're mine..." Chuuya breathed out, hissing and moaning from the pleasure. "... for the entire week... gonna make sure the only name you know is mine." He growled, clenching the sheets on either side of me tightly in his fists.

"Oh, yes, yes yes!" I cried out, back arching off my bed, eyes going wide as a voice that was not Chuuya's spoke up.

"Oh, that's just cute."

Whipping our heads around, we were shocked to see a certain detective standing at the foot of the bed, lecherous grin on his pretty face. We froze, Chuuya's cock still inside me, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Dazai?!" I shrieked.

"How the fuck did you get in here?!" Chuuya followed, glaring at the man. "What the hell?!"

"You can't hide things from me~" Dazai sang, not even hiding the fact that he was enjoying what he was seeing, his eyes slowly trailing over both of our naked bodies. "I was wondering why you called me to ask about her schedule... so I did some digging."

Chuuya hung his head, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "I am going to kill you."

Dazai laughed heartily, waving his hand dismissively. "No, no! Don't let me disturb you! I can watch! You guys were having so much fun!"

Before Chuuya could even react, he ended up groaning, his wide blue eyes finding mine. "Did you... fucking like that?" he asked and I stuttered a bit. "Do you want him to watch us?"

Another chill went down my spine at the thought and Chuuya groaned again as I clenched tightly around him. Chuuya cursed, feeling his cock twitch inside of me. He cursed again, becoming more overcome with arousal.

"Interesting," he breathed out, small puffs of air hitting my face. He smirked slightly, glancing back at Dazai. "This brings back memories."

"Fond memories," Dazai hummed and I looked back and forth between the two of them questionably.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Both of their eyes were now on me, and the intensity of their gazes made me gasp sharply, another chill going down my spine.

"Why have him just watch," Chuuya began, nuzzling his face against my neck. "When he can join us? Oh, fuck, you squeezed me so tightly just now..."

I trembled, heart hammering in my chest at the mere idea. A threesome? With Chuuya and Dazai. Looking over, I catch Dazai slipping off his tan jacket, gulping as he started to work on getting his shirt off.

"We have a week, right? Oh, this is going to be so much fun."

-End

#bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #bsd smut #yeehaw were finally on the home stretch

[imjeralee]

i request that you drink plenty of water and take care of yourself !!! ·o·b after thats done, came i pretty please get headcanons with link, Kaeya and maybe Childe about an s/o who draws them one day as a confession and gives it to them? :) (maybe they already knew and saw them drawing them before ? who knows) thank you in advance!!

Thank you anon! *looks at cup of green tea beside laptop* yep I think i’m doing well in keeping myself hydrated recently hehe but thank you :3

Anyway please see below for the ask! (it’s pretty long)

Link

He was grooming one of the ponies when he saw you standing behind a tent peeking at him curiously and when he turned round properly, you quickly scampered away and he got worried so he followed you to the room you share to see you sitting on the bed with a wine red book propped up in your lap but upon his return, you immediately hid it behind your back, smiling widely at him

He wonders what it was but decides not to pry, but he later discovers it was actually a sketchbook when he’s packing up for tomorrow and you’re taking a bath and the sketchbook drops out of your pack and onto the floor, opening at a random page

He picks it up with the intention to return it to your bag but then he sees the various drawings of him in his Ancient Armour set, Hylian and Snowquill set. They’re fully coloured and it looks like you’ve spent hours on them. He didn’t know you were this artistic and wondered why you hid this from him

The date you wrote on the bottom of the page indicates that you drew all this in one day! He’s super impressed

Then he sees the note you wrote below: “To my Dearest Link, I hope you like my drawings of you. All I can think about is how lucky I am to be able to be by your side, you’ve changed my life for the better and-”

Obv half complete so now he knows why you didn’t want to show him and he respects your privacy, so he puts the sketchbook away 

Outside, he sees Beedle and goes over to see what’s new for sale. Beedle has some cool art stuff (well, it’s more like stuff that can be used for dye but can also be used as paint) so he buys some for you as a present which he will give to you later.

Next day, you get chased by a group of Bokogoblins and the book and all your drawing supplies drops out from your bag. 

You didn’t see it drop and returned to the stable, ransacking your bag like crazy only to find your stuff missing

When you realise everything must have dropped out when you got chased, you quickly leave the stable to go back to the area but it’s thunder and lightning so Link chases after you

“Link, what are you doing? Go back, the weather’s awful.” You tell him but he shakes his head, unable to leave you alone in the rain like this

He helps you with your search and you end up locating your book and your supplies which are lying in the mud

The book has been trampled over and some of the pages have been torn out. The remaining pages are soaked with dirt and grime. Your pencils are snapped in half and your paints have been left to bleed all over the grass. All of your drawings are ruined, too. This is your worst nightmare.

Link observes you silently as tears begins to form in your eyes and you look at him, sniffling slightly.

You’re experiencing a mixture of devastation, frustration, anger and exasperation - from your carelessness to the stupid bokogoblins - and this incident infuriates you so much you throw the book to the ground angrily

Before you can march away, Link grabs your wrist 

Turning round, your gazes meet and he looks at you softly, intently.

‘What’s wrong?’ he is saying. 

“I was going to use those to confess to you!” you end up roaring out by accident. 

Link looks at you, a little stunned

“N-Never mind! Everything’s ruined!!!!” 

You’re about to storm off again when Link suddenly pulls you into his chest and gives you a hug

“!” you’re so shocked you can’t speak

He pulls away though, and leads you to the hollow of a nearby tree trunk where he gestures for you to sit down to shelter from the rain whilst he glances around, then sprints back over to where the ruined sketchbook is

He picks it up and holds it against his chest as if it’s dear to him. That’s not all, you watch as he begins to pick up the remaining pages that were torn out and once he’s collected them all he returns to you, clutching the pages tightly

"Link...” you murmur breathlessly as he he kneels down in front of you before he fishes around in his pockets to reveal a random bunch of paint pots in his hand.

You’re a little confused, but realise he has some spares which he must have bought from a merchant

it’s not much but...

he nudges it to you for your offering

You gawp at him for a few moments before you smile and chuckle and upon seeing you back to your usual self again, Link smiles and helps you back onto your own feet to stand

You thank him as you cradle the paints to yourself. You will need to restart from scratch from somehow it feels ok and something tells you you don’t need to hide it from him anymore

And you return to the stable, sheltering from the rain by sharing a large leaf together

Kaeya

Let’s begin with the fact that alongside you, there is a maid who also likes Kaeya as much as you do and she’s a bit of a sneaky bugger and you don’t show your drawings to anyone or watermark your artwork until they’re complete. You can probably see where this is going

One day, Kaeya finds out you are drawing a picture of him when he comes to your office to inform you that there’s a group of abyss mages outside Mondstadt so you hurry off to dispatch it and leaving Kaeya in your office

He accidentally comes across your drawing when he sees his face on a piece of parchment and his interest is piqued so he heads over to check it out

It’s a really good sketch!!! the amount of detail is insane! he had no idea you possessed such skill and who knew that you could create such beautiful art like this? He also finds some rough doodles and sketches you made earlier on some scrap paper you had also written on so he knows it’s you

Anyway, he puts everything back to join you in battle, but not before passing a maid along the way who is heading to your room to clean up

She comes across your drawing and she’s always fancied Kaeya herself, so for some reason other than just thinking she might be able to get away with it if she’s sneaky enough, she takes your drawing and sets off with it

Meanwhile, you return to your room after the battle, take off your coat and sit comfortably in your chair, reaching for your quill

“Ah, time to get back to my drawing of Kaeya.” you say with a smile, looking at your desk.

Wait a minute.

Something is wrong.

Very wrong.

It’s GONE!

After checking the rest of your office (and its clearly not there), you rush outside, wondering what happened to it when you see Kaeya and a maid talking in the corridor

they didn’t see you, so you quickly hide

“Please accept this, captain Kaeya!” gushes the maid, presenting your drawing to him. “I drew this picture of you to show how much you mean to me.”

What in the Samachurl shit is this? 

You’re about to storm over when Kaeya takes the drawing with a delicate brow raised, studies it intently and goes, “Oh? But I’m not so sure about that.”

“W-what do you mean, Captain Kaeya?”

“There’s no watermark on it,” he points out, “....one could’ve taken anyone’s artwork and claim that it’s theirs.”

“T-That’s - ! Ah, Captain Kaeya, h-how could you think so lowly of me?”

“I’m only just stating some simple facts, that’s all. You won’t hold that against me, will you? And I’m certainly not accusing you of anything...unless you...?”

“Oh....uh....I...I-I’m so sorry, Captain Kaeya, you’re right! I-I....please excuse me!”

The maid’s too embarrassed to proceed any further and leaves, running away.

Indeed, what in the samachurl hell had just happened? 

It goes quiet and you wonder if he’s still there; you step out of your hiding place only to go nose-to-chest with Kaeya.

He greets you with a smirk. “if it isn’t the little kitten, what are you doing here?”

“Um...uh, I....that....that drawing - “

What he said is right, there’s no watermark. How can you prove it’s yours? Would he believe you if you told him?

“Hm? Ah, yes, this drawing. I was going to keep it for myself.”

“No, wait! I mean...er...it’s not finished yet-”

“So you drew this then?”

“Yes, I did. it was me.” Though you wonder if he would believe you after everything you had just heard.

“Why?”

You lamely tell him you really like him and wanted to use it to confess to him.

He watches you for a few seconds, then hands the drawing to you. “I’ll wait until you’ve finished then.”

“Huh?” You gasp. He gave it back to you so easily despite what he said to the maid! “You...you’re not-”

“I knew it was you who drew it. I recognised your style.”

“Then why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“If I said so earlier, how else would I get you to confess to me?”

“KAEYA!!!”

(from then on he’ll want you to draw him more often)

Childe

Saw you sitting on the grassy hill near Qingxu Pool drawing earlier and because he is good at sneaking up on people, you didn’t hear him as he casually leaned over to peek over your shoulder and said, “Hey girlie, what’re you up to?”

You’re like “UWAGH!” and quickly close your sketchbook before turning round to see Childe.

“N-nothing!” you exclaim, before you get up and run down the hill, leaving a very amused Childe on his own

Later, when you’ve finished your masterpiece, you nervously approach Childe and tell him, “Um....this is for you, let me know what you think.” before rushing off in a blushing mess and Childe will open the sketchbook to see that you’ve drawn a very nice portrait of him in a battle stance, wielding his bow, surrounded by his hydro blades

Childe stands, staring at the picture

Then he sees the words ‘do you like me?’ scribbled at the very bottom

Childe staring hard now

He’s used to giving people gifts but now that he’s received something so thoughtful, he’s a bit overwhelmed. he can tell you put so much effort and hardwork into this. Ah, what is this feeling? 

He closes the book without further ado and scrubs a hand over his face

he actually wasn’t expecting you to do this. he knew you were drawing him but the result is really....something else

You don’t hear him from Childe in a few days and you are so nervous and worried.

Is this a rejection? Maybe he didn’t like your picture after all...

You’re walking in the streets and sigh and sit on the stone steps of Liyue, staring at the sea, upset and dejected

But then you hear a whistle from behind and throw a glance over your shoulder to see Childe standing on a higher step, a hand in his pocket

“Hey girlie, heads up,” he tosses a paper plane into the air which makes this little loop before you stand to catch it

Looking up, Childe has gone

You unfold the paper plane to its proper size to reveal that Childe’s drawn a little sketch of you in return and he has written: ‘Yes I do’.

#link #childe #kaeya #childe x reader #Kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #childe x you #Kaeya x you #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #link x reader #link x you #botw #zelda #botw headcanons #botw imagines #zelda breath of the wild #Zelda breath of the wild headcanons #Zelda breath of the wild imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #kaeya headcanons #childe headcanons

[angsty-omi]

was she just a friend?

hajime iwaizumi x Reader

tw: very slight domestic abuse, insecurity, no happy ending, swearing, suggestive themes, and no editing prior.

when you first started dating hajime, you had accepted the fact that he had a really close girl friend. how could you not? before you guys made it official he made sure his concerns were met with. this should’ve been the first red flag, however, you were blinded by love.

at first, it was subtle. she’d tag along with you guys on your walk home, which you didn’t mind at all. most of the trips, she’d make fun of iwaizumi and reminisce when they were kids. which, in turn, made you laugh. a lot. and usually after she got home, you and iwaizumi could spend the sunset together. his large calloused hand would wrap around yours, and he’d bring your hand up to peck it. your heart grew bigger by the minute.

then, one day after she left, both of his hands gripped your jaw, and soft lips were pressed against yours. you smiled into the kiss and added more pressure. as he pulled away, you instinctively moved forward for more. that made him chuckle, and grabbed your chin once more. however, this kiss was more passionate. you could never forget that night. it was purely blissful.

for the next six months, life felt like paradise. there was a consistency of “i love you-s,” cuddles, and even sex. but, as they say, happiness is only temporary. on your sixth month anniversary, you and hajime had planned a fancy dinner date on the bay. you showed up early, with excitement written on your face. you were currently wearing a satin maroon dress with a black trench coat on top. as you sat at your table, you pulled out a box out of your pocket. it was a promise ring. you rubbed the circumference of it, trying to ease your nerves. was this moving too fast? you were certain that you couldn’t love another the way you love hajime.

as the hour strikes, he still hadn’t showed up. you repeatedly checked your watch, and even asked other people’s in case your time was wrong. you texted hajime multiple times with no response. anxiety started bubbling in your stomach. what if hajime’s hurt? what if he got into a car accident? what if a UFO came down and kidnapped him? you prayed to yourself that none of those things were true.

before you even realized it, another hour went by. and at this point the waiters were passively suggesting you to leave, due to their full house. at first, you were weary, what if hajime shows up? you thought. although, you complied with the waiters and left. you called him so many times with no pick up. before jumping to conclusions, you decided to text her.

y/n: hey, have you talked to hajime recently?

her: nope! but i can text him if you’d like!

y/n: sure

you rolled your eyes at her message, she acted like he’d answer her and not you. you were his girlfriend for god sakes. obviously if he could text someone it’d be you... atleast that’s what you thought before you got a notification.

her: oh he just said he’s at home, was there something you needed?

that text broke your heart. he’s at home? worst of all he texted her back and not you? you just left her on read and headed home.

as you slammed your phone on the bed, you got ready to sleep. slipping into one of hajime’s shirts and a pair of underwear you tuck yourself in. while drifting, you inhaled his shirt and it smelled like him. his cologne had a wood musk scent to it which you adored. and before you realized it, you were crying. crying yourself to sleep.

the next morning during school, you did everything in your power to ignore hajime. you skipped the lockers, lunch, and even prevented going to bathroom in case he was there. who could blame you? you were still upset after being stood up.

“miss y/n, could you grab these papers and send it to the office please?” your teacher asked.

you picked up the hefty amount of sheets and went on your merry way. with your guard down roaming the hallways, you failed to notice her and hajime at the end of it. as you both looked up from a long distance with eye contact, you simply turned around and took a detour. you could hear sneakers quickly catching up to you. it was hajime.

“hey baby i haven’t seen you all day,” he wrapped his arm around you.

you ignored him and continued looking straight ahead.

“hey are you okay?”

silence.

“y/n if you’re going to act like this and not tell me what’s going on, i’m going to go.” hajime said with a stern voice. you bit your lip, trying to hold tears back. you nudged yourself off of him and replied “fine.”

how could he be mad at you? and why’s he acting like nothing happened?

at the end of the school day, hajime was waiting at the gates for you. you caught sight of him and sighed. you couldn’t hold it off any longer. as you approached him, you saw her peeking out next to him. of course. with annoyance, you started walking home, with them behind you. the walk home was silent, excluding the loud footsteps trailing behind you. as soon as she turned for her house and a couple more steps, hajime grabbed your wrists and gently pinned you on the wall.

“tell me what’s wrong.”

immediately, tears start falling down your face.

“how could you forget about our sixth months?”

at this point, iwaizumi’s face turned pale. paler than a sheet of printer paper. he quickly kissed your tears, and rambled apologies.

“i can explain, that day hachi had some major family issues. her dad had just left the house to get drunk, and her mom was out of town. she needed me to come over, so i rushed.”

“so then, why didn’t you text me back?”

“what?”

“you heard me”

“i gave my phone to hachi because her dad broke hers.”

you gave a confused look. her phone wasn’t broken, she literally texted you and to think about it you never said her name aloud or in your thoughts.

“what? i literally texted her the night of and she said you texted her back saying you were home”

“hachi wouldn’t do that.”

did he just assume that you would lie? what reason would you even have to lie? you pulled up your phone and showed him the messages.

“this was probably a misunderstanding, are you sure your connection was good? some of them probably didn’t send so it looks bad” he casually said.

you were just in so much shock when he said that. how could he? why did he? your head started to feel stressed so you just walked away. not wanting to hear his idiotic excuses anymore. he trailed behind you and wrapped his arms around you.

“please don’t leave us on bad terms, i’m sorry i won’t do it again” you felt tears on the back of your school uniform.

“i guess it wouldn’t hurt to forget this one instance” you thought to yourself. so what did you do? you forgave him.

poor little naive girl.

after you guys made up, he decided to have a make up anniversary. you guys cuddled up on your bed and watched many sappy romance movies while ordering your favorite place. this was way better than an expensive dinner. you were just glad he was in your arms again and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

you got up from the bed with his arms dragging behind to go into your dresser, where you hid the box. as you were about to turn around and suprise him, his phone rang. who could be calling at this hour? you know who. hachi.

“don’t pick it up” you frowned.

“please babe just give me one second?” he pouted.

you nod in a agony. as he answered it, you could hear dramatic tears on the other end with a concerned hajime on the line.

“are you okay?! he did what?! i’m coming right now”

as he ended the call, he buckled his pants back on.

“you’re kidding right?”

you hid the tiny box behind your back.

“what are you talking about y/n?” he frustrated, clearly stressed out.

“this is our anniversary and you’re going over to see another girl?”

“y/n, she’s my best friend and you know that. plus she’s home alone and her dad just broke a window.”

“then can i come with you?”

he shook his head, “i don’t think she wants anyone to see her in that state right now”

“except for you, hm makes sense okay”

“can you please not be insecure for like one day?” his fingers ran through his hair.

your eyes widened, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one that made me insecure! first i dropped the whole dinner phone text thing even though there was obvious evidence hachi was trying to sabotage us, why can’t you see it?!”

“y/n, at the beginning of our relationship you acknowledged that i had a close girl friend. and with that, the dinner thing was just a misunderstanding. stop bringing that up or else.” he aggressed.

“are you seriously threatening me right now?”

“if you leave right now.. t-then we’re over!” the words just slipped out of your mouth. both of you guys were in shock. you were just so relentlessly depleted from this argument that you decided this was your solution.

he furiously opened the door, “hajime wai-” you were cut off by the door slamming shut. tears were flowing like a waterfall at this point. you gave yourself some time to breathe and reevaluate. you couldn’t lose hajime, he was your person. your light. your yellow. you put on your sneakers and ran to hachi’s house, knowing he’d be there. you grabbed the promise ring alongside so you could beg for forgiveness.

your breath was ragged, damn were you out of shape. but at the end, you got to your destination. as you analyzed the house, there seem to be no windows broken, but the front door was opened slightly. you knew she was lying from the start about her dad smashing things. you slowly walked in as quiet as possible and could hear sobs in the other room. as you pressed your ear to the door, it was hajime’s sobs. your heart felt so much guilt, sayings like “i love her so much” and “how could she just say that?” were the only phrases you could comprehend. then there was silence. as you opened the door, prepared to make up, you couldn’t believe your eyes. hachi and hajime’s face were about a half an inch away from each other. they both looked up at you.

“nice intact windows, take this stupid fucking ring, you’re dead to me iwaizumi” you chucked the box at him. as he looked at the box, it had been embroidered ‘promise’ on it and he knew what that meant. you quickly made your exit through the door with hajime closely behind you.

you stopped in your tracks, “please just leave me alone” your voice now dainty.

“y/n, plea-”

“please what? please forget about what i saw? i knew it i fucking knew it. you know what, this whole time you made me like the bad guy when it was YOU. you made me like this, and the worst part is I STILL LOVE YOU.” you punched jabs into his chest. obviously it didn’t hurt him physically, but emotionally it felt like a million swords were stabbing him repeatedly.

“please stop this, is there anyway you can forgive me? please?” he sobbed.

“i’ll do anything”

“would you leave hachi for me?” you asked sharply.

his hesitation was all you needed. in his head he answered yes, but it was like his vocal chords stopped working. deep in his heart, he knew you deserved better. so he stayed quiet.

“go to hell, go fuck hachi or something see if i care.” but you did care. you just wished that he fought just a little bit for you. but he never did and you had to accept it like a champ.

before this all happened, you had dreamed about iwaizumi hajime and yours’s future. but now it’s all ruined.

you’re left heartbroken and lost $350 on a ring that had no meaning.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizume x reader #haikyuu fluff

[vdlest]

You matter

Characters:

Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary:

You and Bucky together with the other Avengers went to Florida for a mission. When your ex-suitor were also in the same area, your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, is triggered by your ex's words. How can you make him feel better?

Warning:

Jealousy

A little bit of smut

Swearing

You and the rest of the Avengers are staying in the safehouse for a few days now. This mission lasts longer than you think. But since you are in a mission with your Bucky, everything seems alright. However, things became off-handed between you and Bucky upon the arrival of your ex-suitor, Frank, who is currently working under Stark Industries.

It turns out that Frank has been living in Florida for quite some time now, so Stark thought he'd be useful to this mission. On the other hand, you haven't seen Frank since high school and you must admit that you also liked him back then, but that's not important anymore since you're happy with your relationship with Bucky.

Speaking of Bucky, the guy clearly doesn't like Frank that much. He hates it when he is too confident when talking to you and the rest of the team. It's like he's showing you that he is better than Bucky, but you have no care or concern about how he thinks. All that matters to you are your work as an Avenger, your friends, and the love of your life.

"Sir, the information I gave you could be accurate if only Mr. Barnes here did not intervened and change the strategic plan I made based on my research," Frank said.

Everyone is in the dinning room for a meeting of what happened in yesterday's tasks.

"Excuse me," Bucky glared at Frank as he points himself, "Are you seriously blaming me for your inaccurate research?" he asked then he chuckled, "I am not the one who made that research, boy. So whether I intervened or not, your strategic plan could've worked out."

Whenever Frank and Bucky would be in the same room, a heated argument should be expected.

"Enough," Steve stopped Bucky and Frank, "We should just think of something else. We're running out of time already," he pointed out.

"Y/n and I could sneak off the building tomorrow morning and we'll give access to Barton and Banner," Wanda suggested.

"Yeah, I think the only way to get this mission done and over with is to use the "disguise & sneak off" tactic," you added in support of Wanda's suggestion. You turned to Steve, "Once Barton and Banner are in to hack the security system, the rest of you can take it from there."

Steve seemed to like your plan so he nodded and asked all of you to get the rest you all need because you have an early day tomorrow.

You left the dinning room alongside with the other Avengers, while Steve, Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Bucky are left inside the dinning room to finish their whiskeys that they started before the meeting. You're about to go to the kitchen to grab something to drink with Wanda and Nat when Frank approaches you.

"Hey Nat, Wanda, go ahead and find something to drink. I'll go catch up," you said to Wanda and Nat, they gave you a nod. Wanda gave you a warning look, she knows how jealousy and Bucky don't match up well enough. You faced Frank, "Hey, you need somethin'?" you asked him.

Frank smiled at you, "I was wondering if you want to go and visit a few places the day after tomorrow and before you and your friends go back home," he proposed.

You didn't want to be rude but you are not clearly into him anymore and you know that he isn't the guy you want to be with in visiting tourist places here in Florida. It's Bucky.

You clicked your tongue, "That's a very nice offer Frank, but I don't think it's a good idea."

His face turned into a disappointment, "It's Bucky, isn't it?"

You nodded, "Frank, Bucky and I are together. He's my boyfriend. I know things were pretty well between us during high school, but we didn't make it because it wasn't meant to be at all. So, let's just be friends and stay like that." You wanted to tell him about this since you got here in Florida, but he keeps on disregarding whatever you say about your relationship with Bucky.

Unknown to you, Bucky's near both of you and can actually hear your conversation with Frank.

"But y/n..." Frank moved closer to you and held both of your arms, "...he was a killer. He's the winter soldier. He killed millions of people."

You moved a step back away from him, making you free from his hands. You gave him a disbelief look upon moving away from him.

"You don't know him, Frank," you shook your head and glared at him, "You don't know who Bucky is. You may know him as the winter soldier but it wasn't him. He didn't have a choice when he did those awful things. He is the love of my life and the bad things you're telling me about him won't change how I feel for him. First of all, you have no right to judge him. You have no idea who he is."

Before Frank could say anything in reply to you, Bucky approached both of you. He stood besidd you as he give Frank a death defying stare.

"Say another word and I will break your neck. You'll see the winter soldier you are telling y/n about," Bucky said.

"See, y/n!" Frank said as he waved his hand to motion towards Bucky, "He killed lots of people from the past and he could do it again! He's a threat to your life, he's a threat to every man's life!"

You saw Bucky clenched his jaw and how his knuckles been wanting to punch Frank's face, but you immediately put your hands on his shoulder to calm him down. Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Clint came out of the dinning room and were already sensing not so good things between Bucky and Frank.

"Frank, I don't think it's advisable to go across my pal," Steve said as he drag Frank away from Bucky.

"Wait, Steve," you stopped Steve from dragging Frank away. You walked towards Frank and held him in his collar, his feet can't even touch the ground anymore as you lift him up in the air, "Bucky is not the winter soldier, he never was and he never will be. Put that in your mind. You understand?" when he did not answr you, you tightened your grip on him, "Do you understand?!" you repeated.

"Yeah, yeah! I understand." he answered.

The moment you put Frank down, Steve and Clint dragged him outside and talked to him.

You turned around to face Bucky, but when you're about to approach him, he walked away and went straight to your room.

"He's still sensitive about the winter soldier thing," Stark said behind you. He taps your shoulder before making his way to the kitchen where Nat and Wanda are, "You should go and talk to him. Make out after," he joked.

•••

You did not have to knock on the door of the room that you and Bucky shared in the safehouse, it is open and it is also your room anyway. When you entered the room, you found him near the window, staring outside and you could feel that he's thinking of something.

"You know what Tony asked me to do after I talked to you?" you closed the door behind you and rested your back against it, "He said we should make out."

It was just you, trying to lighten up the mood.

But he did not even dare to look at you. He is just staring at the glass window and what's outside.

"Bucky," you walked towards the edge of the bed, which is only a few inches away from where he is standing, "You know he's just trying to tear us apart. Whatever he said was all a lie," you reached for his hand to make him face you.

His eyes met yours, making you see how Frank's stupid and baseless words affected him. He has always been sensitive when someone is bringing up his past. He is not denying the fact that it was part of his past, but he also know that it wasn't him anymore.

You put his hand on your cheeks and leave a few kisses on his palm while your eyes are still with him, "No matter what happened in the past, it doesn't dictates who you are now. You are a different person from who was inside your head before. It doesn't even matter what happened in the past, only you and I matter. You matters, only you. So please, stop doing this to yourself over and over again," you said, almost in a pleading voice.

"I'm not affected by the fact that people are still seeing me as the winter soldier or who I was before, but I..." he kneel in front of you as he grabbed both of your hands, "...I am asking myself if I really do deserve you."

"You what?" you asked and you shook your head, "Bucky, come on. We're really doing this shitty conversation? Of course you deserve me. When you and I became a couple, there's not a day or any time of the day that I'd find myself smiling like a fool. Whenever you're out of my sight, in a mission or something, I'd find myself longing for you, your hug..." you pulled him towards you as you lay on the bed and putting him on top of you, "...your touch, and most of all..." you twisted your finger in his dog tag and pulled him closer to you, "...your kiss." you said before you kissed him on his lips.

You didn't have to wait, he kissed you back as soon as he felt your lips against his.

You found yourself deepening the kiss both of you are sharing, and few seconds later his hand moved to your waist and the vibranium one removed strands of hair blocking your face.

He pulled from your kisses as he caresses your face, "How did I get so damn lucky to have you, y/n?" he asked as he look into your eyes deeply.

You smiled, "We're both of lucky. We'll talk about your cocky attitude later, but for now..." you pushed yourself up and push him on the bed as you straddle him on his waist, "...I need you to do me."

He smiled as he pull your shirt up, undressing you and leaving you on your brassiere, "Oh, on the contrary..." he pulled himself up and unclasps your bra, "...I'm the only person who deserves you."

You grin but before you could say anything, he kisses you and claims your lips like a hungry beast and you're his last meal. While he's busy ravishing you with his lips, your hands are busy unbuttoning his shirt, but when you ran out of patience, you just rip it off.

Upon hearing the shattering sound of fabrics, he stopped kissing you, surprised with your aggressiveness, "Did you also learned that from Nat?" he asked.

You chuckled, "No, I learned that with you, asshole. Now stop talking, just do the work."

He pinned you against the bed, feeling the matress behind you as he slowly tug your pants down alongside with your panties.

"Spread your legs for me, and let me taste you, my love."

You obliged and spread your legs to the hungry man in front of you.

"This is gonna be a long night, so hang on and let me make it up to you," he said before he went down between your legs, remembering that Tony told you to make out, but you ended up doing a lot more. MORE.

-v.dl

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes imagine #Marvel #Marvel imagine #Marvel fanfiction

[chihomichannel]

i wish you all the happiness in the world

| pairing: oikawa tooru x short female! reader | summary: In which you loved each other for all this time but timing was never on your side | genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, kinda smut but not really | warnings: MANGA SPOILERS, cursing, alcohol, NOT EDITED ‘cause i’m tired | word count: 6964 words | a/n: hi hi! this is my first haikyuu ff. hope you like it! ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ i have to say though, i’m not really satisfied with this smh. it’s more like a summary of an entire fanfic i’ve thought for oikawa siiigh. this also was kinda rushed by the end ‘cause i wanna post it already jhbksdjna

icon used

You treasure your time back in childhood. Whenever you think back to those days, you would be reminded of the times you spent with Oikawa and Iwaizumi by your side. Still young and ignorant to the world other than your own little bubble, you played around and made memories that even years later, you could still remember what you felt back then. What it felt like to pull on your sister’s hair and the terror that went with it, what it felt like to accidentally injure yourself after you tried copying that one commercial you saw on TV, what it felt like to trip over your own feet as you dived head first to receive a ball for the first time - and with all those times of stupidity and utter fun, Oikawa and Iwaizumi was always there. You don’t even remember the first time you met them. All you knew was that they were already a part of your life for as long as you could remember.

You and Oikawa are next-door neighbors and Iwaizumi lives just right around the corner by the end of the street. For everyday that passed by, you three were always joined at the hips. You can’t even remember a time in your childhood that you weren’t with either of the two. Or maybe it was because it was so long ago that you don’t remember everything now that you’re a bit older.

But a distinct memory of Oikawa forcing both you and Iwaizumi’s pinkies to his as he shouted in promise “Someday, we’ll make it all to nationals!” Nationals. What a fancy word for such young dreamers.

But hence, when you reached the age of kindergarten, your parents made it a mission and a promise to always, always enroll the three of you in the same school. They thought your friendship was cute and special. Even everyone in the neighborhood found your little group endearing. They could never imagine one without the other two or either of the bunch. You would always be three and that would never change. At least that was the ideal reality that everyone imagined for you three.

Though that ideal friendship remained true for years and years. But in your final year of middle school, that was when everything shifted its course.

It was when Oikawa and you were alone in between the two gyms that separated the boy’s volleyball team and the girl’s volleyball team. You were a setter, a genius setter. And during that time, you didn’t know the animosity Oikawa held towards genius volleyball players. So when he told you “You’re a really great setter” And with the small smile accompanied by those fluttering words, a great wave of pride swelled in your chest to hear such a comment from such a great setter, a tinge of pink painted across your cheeks.

You let out a small shy “Thank you” Your eyes stuck on the ground with your hair hiding your reddening cheeks. You didn’t notice the slight quirk in the corners of his smile. Too busy with your head in the clouds, you failed to notice the envy that flashed through his dark chocolate-brown eyes.

While you were busy pining over your new realized feelings, Oikawa was also busy over his conflicting feelings for you. You were his friend, his best friend along with Iwaizumi. So why does he harbor so much jealousy towards you? It was him who got you into volleyball in the first place. It was him who dragged you out of bed every morning for as long as he could remember just to play volleyball. But seeing you do so much better than him, even when he would never face you on the court, he couldn’t help but feel insecure in your presence.

He thinks he could do more, be better and surpass every living genius in the world of volleyball. He wants to be the best. He needs to be much much better. And with the green-eyed monster controlling his need to be the best, without knowing it, he held a resentment against you.

And you, none the wiser of your friend’s bitterness towards you, you found more reasons to be around Oikawa more. More than you already do. Which to be honest did not help calm the growing storm Oikawa harbors in his heart. You always just seem to be everywhere and seeing you always reminds him of what he’s lacking. Feelings of guilt, envy and your sudden overwhelming presence is what drove him to finally snap. To finally pull the trigger and kill whatever’s left of his fondness towards you.

Iwaizumi had told you that Oikawa has been pushing himself much more than normal. Oikawa has been losing his cool and Iwaizumi has explained the pressure, the constant need to be better and the inferiority Oikawa feels towards players like Kageyama and Ushijima. But neither you nor Iwaizumi knew you were one of those Oikawa felt inferior to.

So one late afternoon, the sun has set and the sky is minutes away from dark. Hours after classes were dismissed and the rest of the players had been sent home, you entered the boy’s volleyball gym alongside Iwaizumi to see that Oikawa is still hell-bent on practicing.

You frowned. You could see how exhausted he was but still, he stood on his two feet, determined. Before you could even call out his name, Kageyama caught your attention as he made his way to his senior “Oikawa-san, please teach me how to serve”

As if something inside him snapped in half, Oikawa’s hand flew towards Kageyama only for Iwaizumi to catch his arm in time “Get a grip you moron!” Stunned silence echoed through the gym, only heavy breaths and wide eyes spoke volumes of what just happened. “I’m sorry” Oikawa relaxed and Iwaizumi let him go. But his eyes, he was just as shocked with his actions as much as everyone was.

“Kageyma, I’m sorry but we’re done for the day” Iwaizumi’s spoke and with that, Kageyama walked away, eyeing Oikawa warily as he passed him by.

“Tooru?” Your voice caught his attention. You being there sent him in overload and before he could stop himself, before Iwaizumi had the chance to stop the words that flew out of Oikawa’s mouth, he snapped once again. But this time, there was no stopping it.

“You!” He bellowed, you flinched “I hate you! I hate you and your presence and everything that is you!”

“Huh?” “Wha-? OI!”

“-Why are you always everywhere? Why do you have to be a part of my life? You’re always in my eyes! You’re always there and I am sick of it!” Oikawa huffed, tears brimming on his eyes. You’re already crying.

“You like me don’t you?” 

He knows

“-Well I don’t like it! Stay away from me will you! You overwhelm me!”

He knows

You clenched your hand, shaking.

“-WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE A SETTER?!” With a frustrated cry, Oikawa dropped to his knees and suddenly, you realize.

‘He hates me’ You thought. You didn’t even dwell as to why when you ran out the gym. You heard Iwaizumi call out your name but you ignored him and ran. You ran and ran until your lungs forced you to stop, tumbling down to your knees as you sobbed in the empty road under the street light.

You can’t understand for the life of you. Had you been mean to him? Have you done something wrong? Or is it because he knows you like him and he doesn’t feel that way towards you. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. His mother doesn’t really help as she always gushes about how you should be her future daughter-in-law. You had overwhelmed him and now he hates you.

It was only the night before Monday did you remember what he last told you.

“WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE A SETTER?”

‘Ah’ you thought as you realized the roots of his new found resentment towards you.

Oikawa has always been ambitious and successful at whatever he sets his mind into. But he was no genius and his skills were practiced, it did not come naturally. You remembered those times he ranted about Ushijima and how unbelievably strong he is. And Kageyama and how he’s younger yet so much better than he is. And then there’s you.

He had never complained about you. Or at least none that you knew about. You should have realized when people started calling you a genius. You should have noticed the change of his demeanor towards you. How he doesn’t smile genuinely anymore. How you weren’t actually friends anymore. 

You didn’t love volleyball and maybe that’s one of the reasons why he hates you. Or maybe that’s the exact reason why. You don’t even love it yet you’re so good at it. No wonder he was frustrated about you. He’s not just envious about your skills, he’s also frustrated to see you obtain something he wants when you’re only half-hearted into the game. It was a reminder that no matter how hard he pushed himself, there would always be some genius that would trample over his hardened efforts.

You couldn’t believe how fast you could go from liking someone to hating them the next.

You avoided him after that incident. You avoided him like the plague. You still talk to Iwaizumi though but not as much as before. You distanced yourself from them and before you knew it, you had graduated.

Over the summer, that was when people noticed the shift in the dynamic of your friendship. The three became two and you’re now only one. You don’t leave your house, not even when Iwaizumi called out your name for an hour because you knew Oikawa would be there.

Oikawa did not make any effort to reconcile with you and it annoyed you to no end. It was always Iwaizumi acting as the mediator but eventually, even he gave up. It was tiring to force two people to reconcile when neither party wanted anything to do with the other.

It doesn’t mean Oikawa didn’t feel guilty. His guilt was one of the reasons why he exploded and it was also guilt that made him ashamed of facing you. You were a precious friend, a childhood friend, a person who’s known him for so long. A person who knows him better than his family and yet he pushed you away. 

And now you won’t come back.

At the opening ceremony in high school, he waited for you. He thought that he would make peace with you. Apologize once and for all. You were already in high school for god’s sake. You had let the whole summer wash away the broken pieces of your friendship with no way of reconciliation. You had wasted a whole summer and Oikawa’s determined to bring everything back to where it was. Even if it meant to pick up all the pieces of the broken fragments of your strained friendship. He would do so. Because you’re precious to him, more than you nor he could understand.

But you never came. And at once, all that courage and determination in him was also washed away.

You went to Karasuno for high school and swore your soul to the gods that exist that you would never ever step foot into a volleyball court ever again. You had decided to quit on volleyball. Sure, you were a genius at it but you didn’t love it. At least not as much as some people you know. But that promise was also thrown away when Sugawara, a classmate, begged you to be their manager.

He was resolute and you were annoyed. And so you rejected his offer. Though that did not stop him from pestering you, begging you down to his knees which is why you found yourself watching a practice match held in the school’s volleyball gym.

‘They’re weak’ You thought. You didn’t really care as you watched the team pathetically lost. You could not stress enough the difference in power between your school and the away team. It was truly and utterly pitiable.

You had heard about the tale of the once powerhouse that is Karasuno and you wondered what happened. You learned that your school had once managed to make it to the nationals so why is the team so weak now? No coach, no manager, just players.

You were already leaving, indifferent to your school’s volleyball team when your ears perked up on an insult, an insult that sent you to overdrive and before you knew it, you were screaming. You screamed at your school’s team. You screamed a vow, a vow to get them to nationals once again. And so beyond your belief, you were on the court once again. Though this time, you were only at the side.

It was in the Interhigh Tournament did you and Oikawa look at each other once again. His eyes were wide while yours was determined, glaring at him as if challenging him. He knew of your abilities and how well you could use that to coach others. He knew you could use that to examine opponents and use that knowledge against them. You were a genius that way. And so seeing you in the opponent’s team as their manager made him nervous. Just because you were a manager doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be able to help the team technically.

But how can you help a team that doesn’t want your help in the first place? It was only you and your other fellow first years that were bitter when you lost in the first round. Your seniors seemed to accept that your team just wasn’t good enough. And the frustration sent you to silent tears as you questioned your decision of being involved in volleyball again.

And Oikawa, being the ever jackass that he is, used the opportunity to tease you. An excuse to talk to you. And imagine the delight he felt when you gave him the attention. And so started the rivalry you never imagined you would have with him.

You thought that maybe if he hadn’t chosen to tease you that day, you would’ve quit the volleyball club. And maybe if he hadn’t teased you that day, you would have probably never talked again.

Three years passed and it was your last year at high school. With the addition of promising first years, you faced off against Aoba Johsai in the Spring Interhigh Qualifiers. Karasuno won and would face off Shiratorizawa for the finals. You should be glad, ecstatic even. So why are you sad? Why are you mourning for your childhood friends’ loss? Why won’t you look away from the opponent and celebrate with your team?

But how could you when you could see the two special people in your life fight off the tears that threatened to stream down their eyes. And the night after Karasuno beat Shiratorizawa, you thought ‘Nationals’ 

You were the only one who made it to Nationals. And you weren’t even a player.

The thought of that stupid childhood promise left a bitter taste on your mouth.

๋࣭     ࣪ ˖        ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ˖ ࣪ ٬     ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭     ࣪ ˖        ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ˖ ࣪  ๋࣭

The high of the nationals died down once it was over and you and your fellow third years now focus on studying for the finals and upcoming university entrance exams. It was dismissal time and having no volleyball club activities any more, you head straight home, parting ways with Sugawara at the intersection.

You sighed. The sky is orange with hues of pink, purple and blue painting the sky gradient. You had arrived by your house’s gate when you heard the ruckus of voices. Male voices. So you turn and lo and behold, it was Oikawa, Iwaizumi and number 2 and 3 from what you could remember.

They turn to look at you and their ruckus dies down. You turned your back at them, already opening the gate when Iwaizumi called out your name. You turn your focus back at them “Would you mind tutoring us?”

“Please, she’s bad at math” Oikawa commented. You felt a nerve pop out of your neck “You bitch, you suck at everything but volleyball!”

“Excuse me, I’m in class 6-” “Doesn’t matter”

Iwaizumi could only sigh as Matsukawa and Hanamaki watched in amusement. ‘So you’re the famous childhood friend’ they thought.

You and Oikawa stared down at each other, neither backing down. For added effect, you crossed your arms which earned a snort from the setter “Please?” Iwaizumi pleaded. With a sigh, you looked at your friend “Fine. I’ll just tell mom first”

Why did you accept? You didn’t know. But you knew you didn’t mind being around Oikawa now. Though you don’t really trust him, not anymore.

Your mom was surprised to hear you would be going to Oikawa’s house. It’s been years and she could not hide the glee on her face as she practically pushed you out of the house. With a deep breath, you made your way to his house.

The door opened to his mother who, like your mom, albeit a bit more enthusiastic, was ecstatic beyond relief at the sight of you. She asked you continuously without giving you any chance to reply “Did you finally make up? Are you friends again? You’re talking again? How splendid! Why did you stop talking in the first place? I was so sad. I missed you so dearly. It wasn't the same without you”

She kept on beaming and you only replied in awkward chuckles, not wanting to kill her joy and tell her you still very much held a grudge against her son. But fortunately, she left you to the company of the four boys who sprawled all around the couch, bags thrown at the side with the television on in a music channel. A girl group is performing.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be studying?”

“Shh, Miho-chan is singing” Oikawa held a finger on his lips. You could only grimace at their focus on the girl group. Maybe you should go now.

But before you could even turn around, Iwaizumi had turned off the TV much to the boys’ protests “Fanboy later you horny scumbags”

“You know I’m here, right?” You say and Iwaizumi sent you an apologetic smile.

“You don’t count as a girl anyway so it doesn’t really matter” You felt your heart drop at Oikawa’s comment. You frowned, dropping your books down on the coffee table with a slam. The three boys jumped, startled. They were sitting down on the floor when you did that.

With a huff, you sat down at the end of the table while Matsukawa and Hanamaki sat beside each other and across from them sat Oikawa and Iwaizumi “So-” You cleared your throat as they looked at you in synchrony “-what is it you need help in?”

๋࣭     ࣪ ˖        ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ˖ ࣪ ٬     ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭     ࣪ ˖        ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ˖ ࣪  ๋࣭

You looked up to the digital clock hanging on the wall. 8:47 pm, it read “Aren’t you guys gonna go home?”

Oikawa is fast asleep on the coffee table, head resting in his arms. Matsukawa has given up on his practice test and Hanamaki sat spaced out. It was only Iwaizumi whose focus is still on his notes. Even you gave up 15 minutes ago, feeling your head ache as the words start swirling incoherently in your mind.

You received a hum of reply, everyone focused on their own little worlds. You sighed, closing your book and tucking in the notes in your bag in a hurry. You stood up, groaning at the ache that has built up on your legs from hours of sitting. The others noticed this and copied your actions, slowly standing up and slinging their bags on their shoulders “You all should rest for the day. Just continue tomorrow”

Iwaizumi did not budge from his position and you walked out of the living room to the front door, Matsukawa and Hanamaki hot on your heels. Once you were outside, you were about to bid them goodbye when Hanamaki beat you to it “Hey, I’ve been thinking. Why didn’t you go to Seijoh?”

Matsukawa hit Hanamaki in the back of his head, earning a hiss from the latter “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that”

“Why? Did they talk about me?” Your smile was sad it could come off as a frown. The two boys looked at you sheepishly and you chuckled, turning away from them as you unlocked your gate “We’ve heard the three of you were close and that something happened. They didn’t really elaborate. You’re a really touchy subject” This made you laugh

“Damn” You turned back around to face them to see that they’re still on the same spot, waiting for your response. But you only gave them half a smile, bid goodbye and entered your house.

The next day, you slept through your alarm. Only waking up when your mother woke you up with a screech. And so you skipped on breakfast, snatching a biscuit from the top of the refrigerator and dashed out of your house. Only to be met with Oikawa getting on his bike, obviously late like you are.

“Shouldn’t you be at morning practice?” “Shouldn’t you know that 3rd years don’t go to practice anymore?” You rolled your eyes.

“Geez, how could I know? I don’t go to your school, dumbass” Oikawa pedaled to match your pace “You sound like Iwa-chan, chibi-chan~”

You held your tongue, though your frown failed to conceal your annoyance. Oikawa gazed at you, pursing his lips as you refused to look at his way “Hop on, chibi-chan. No matter how fast you go, you’ll still be late with those tiny legs of yours”

“Can you shut up?!” “What? Is that your best retort? How lame~” You kicked the wheel of his bike sending him trembling out of balance “Hey!”

You huffed. You did not sign up for so much annoyance so early in the morning. You groaned, head looking up at the sky in exasperation when Oikawa blocked your way “Please, please get hit by a truck” Oikawa looked offended

“Ouch, chibi-chan. Just hop on already, you know I’m right” He gave you a grin which only aggravated you more “No”

“Don’t be so stubborn, little girl” “I am not little” “Your height says otherwise” “I’ll kill you!”

Both of you were locked out of the gate that day.

Your review with the four boys continued everyday after school. As well as your morning walk to the school being bombarded by Oikawa. When he learned what time you go to school, Oikawa made it his mission to walk with you. Always biking at your pace as he ranted on and on much to your dismay. You had begged Iwaizumi to go to school with the two of you since Oikawa doesn’t give any signs of giving up on you. But Iwaizumi only gave you a grunt for a response, mumbling about respecting his sleep.

And came one Friday morning, 2 weeks left of school and 3 days before university entrance examinations. Oikawa is waiting by your gate as always and hopped on at the sight of you “Morning, chi-bi-chan~”

Closing your gate, he waits for you to walk but was pleasantly surprised when you sat on the back of his bike “Huh?”

“Bike” You said and so he did. He began telling a story about Iwaizumi tripping in front of his crush, elaborating on what happened that day. And you, you were uncharacteristically quiet. 

Usually, you’ll banter with him. And so when you called out his name, Oikawa could feel that you were about to say something heavy. So he continued rambling, zoning out your voice and filling the air with his words.

“Tooru” He paused, his heart thundering against his chest. It has been years since he last heard you call him by his name “Yeah?”

“Why are you acting like we’re friends” Oikawa let out a strained smile but you didn’t see

“Damn, that hurts y/n-chan” He said in jest but you could hear the genuine hurt in his voice. Oikawa felt your hand tighten as you clutch on the back of his jacket.

“Tooru-” You leaned your head against his back ‘-it’s weird how this makes me feel happy but hurt’ You thought

“Tooru-” ‘-I’m glad we’re talking again’

Oikawa could feel his heart go erratic, longing for whatever that is on your mind. Voice it out, he thought. Voice it out. But you don’t

“Tooru-” ‘-how come I still like you?’

That night, everyone is staying over at Oikawa’s house except for you. It would be weird considering you’re the only girl and your parents didn’t let you. But here you were, shivering in the cold as you knocked on the window outside Oikawa’s room. He was there because it was him who called you out at 2 in the morning, begging you to come. You shouldn’t have come but you couldn’t really resist him. Not even after all these years. Not even after convincing yourself to move on from him.

You’re whipped and you’re annoyed by it.

‘He’s a jackass’ You think as he holds your hand to support you down ‘He shouted at you. Never apologized, rejected you before you even had a chance to confess. He’s an annoying son of a bitch’

Your heart flutters when you stumble against his chest, Oikawa holding you by the shoulders to steady you “You’re cold” He says, his breath raining down on your hair. His breath was hot and your cheeks turned warm.

You fought the urge to look up at him but when he wrapped a blanket around you, your eyes unconsciously made its way to his face to see he was glowing red despite the darkness of his room.

“The others are in the living room” He says, pulling you down with him on his bed. Shuffling of sheets echoed around the room as Oikawa dived under the blanket. He had his arm under you while his other pulled you to his chest. He kept his arms around you, his chin on your head as you flushed yourself to his chest.

You could feel his heart, beating its way out of his chest. His heart slowly lulling you to sleep. He called out your name. You reluctantly pulled your head away from his chest and looked up at him “Hm?”

Oikawa bite his tongue, mulling over the words in his head. Should he tell you right now? What would your reaction be? He doesn’t want to hurt you again. He doesn’t want to repeat the same mistakes. He doesn’t want this moment to stop. For the world to pause and let him hold you close to him.

He thinks it over - deciding he should tell you soon. But not know. Not when your cheeks are red, your half-lidded eyes glossy as you gazed at him longingly. Oikawa leans in, planting a soft kiss to your forehead that tells you exactly what he feels. You could feel yourself shrink under the affection.

You didn’t notice that you fell asleep. Did not know that his eyes scanned every nook and crevices of your face. How beautiful you looked to him. How you would always be the prettiest in his eyes. How he looked at you so utterly and deeply in love it hurts to know that the time is ticking.

Oikawa brushes the strand of hair on your face, pushing it behind your ears in an agonizingly slow pace. He takes his time feeling your skin, placing his lips on your forehead and falls asleep with your warmth wrapped against his.

After that night, you and Oikawa grew more affectionate with each other. Sure, you still banter. That would never change. But there was a shift in the air and you knew there was something in there. But neither of you admitted anything. Still friends but much more than just that. Nothing was official and no one acknowledged the elephant in the room.

And you were glad it was never official. Because after graduation, Oikawa’s mom threw a party for him. A graduation party. A farewell party.

It seems like night brings out the intimacy that the morning shies away. Oikawa had led you to the playground behind your house. You remembered playing here with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, practicing volleyball as always.

You climbed up the slide and sat down at the top, letting your feet dangle on the edge. Oikawa sat beside you, his long legs dangling down beside yours. You studied the difference and smiled to yourself.

“I’m going to Argentina” He says, refusing to look at you. His hands are pulled into a fist, trembling. You placed your hand on top of his, his shaking stops as he finally looks your way “That’s great” You said, and you mean it.

He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. So you held his cheeks, head tilting to the side “It has always been your dream, Tooru. I can’t believe it’s finally happening”

“It’ll be hard” You snort “Of course. It’s Argentina dude. Japan is still miles away from their skills” Your eyes glint at that, giving Oikawa a determined smile “But we’ll beat you, just you wait”

“I’ll win first” And he means it. You laugh, hand dropping from his cheeks “I’ll look forward to it”

Oikawa gazes at you with so much adoration in his eyes. You were the only person who didn’t tell him his plans were stupid. And he loves you for that.

“I love you” he was the first to crack. Your cheeks turn red, expression shy at his intense gaze “I-I love you too” You stutter, a bit overwhelmed.

Oikawa chuckles “You’re cute” His words don't really help to die down the red in your cheeks. In fact, it only worsens it “Shut up” You grumble indignantly and he laughs.

“Hey, will you be my girlfriend?” At this, you looked at him with a sad smile.

“We can’t” Oikawa knew your answer before he even asked. But he didn’t expect the pain would hurt that much.

“Can’t we try?” His voice is painful and it broke your heart to see him so broken “Tooru” He looks at you pleadingly and he speaks

“I think I've been in love with you all this time. But to be honest-” He bitterly chuckles “-I was envious of you more than I liked you"

"And that's why it's a no" you smiled sadly.

"You love volleyball, Tooru. More than anything else. More than you. More than me" The atmosphere was somber. Until a thought passed by your mind and you tittered.

"More than milk bread" The both of you giggled.

"Yeah...more than milk bread"

Neither of you moved. Not even when the sun rose from its sleep and in a few hours, he'll leave.

He'll leave.

And you have to let him go. Even though he's right there beside you. So close yet so far away. He's there and he loves you. But for his dreams. For him.

You let him go.

And then he's gone. On the other side of the world, thousands and millions of miles away from you. And you regret the three years that could've been so much more if the two of you hadn't been so stupid and so prideful.

And just like that, years and years passed. Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi left abroad and only you stayed. Though you did move to Tokyo and worked at a hospital for a few months until the opportunity to work as an assistant manager and physical therapist for MSBY Black Jackals came up. You could only thank the stars for connections. In this field, you only get a chance if someone in it knows you. And luckily for you, you know a ton of them from your years as a manager back in high school. 

It’s 2021 and 8 years have passed and you remained in contact with Oikawa. Though you don’t talk as much as you two now have your own separate lives. He has volleyball and you have your athletes. And of course, during the course of those 8 years, the both of you had dated several people. Some long term, some not so long. And inside those 8 years, you’ve finally convinced yourself you’ve moved on from Oikawa Tooru.

The olympics is this year and along with Iwaizumi, you were pulled in to be a manager and their physical therapist. You had made quite the reputation in the industry. What with your genius mind for volleyball, opponent teams that know you fear your analytical skills and your ability to use that knowledge for the benefit of your team. Really, all professional volleyball teams want you. It just so happens that it was MSBY Black Jackals that called you first.

Oikawa doesn’t know that you and Iwaizumi are part of the Japan team. And so when his team emerged, ready to face old rivals, Oikawa swore his eyes jumped at the sight of you and Iwaizumi.

Your heart swelled with pride, lips outstretched to a big smile. You’re proud of him, so so much.

You could only yelp when Oikawa sprinted towards you and pulled you and Iwaizumi in a tight hug. It’s been such a long time since you saw each other. And a thought passed by your head.

The three of you didn’t make it all in the nationals, but you sure did all go to the olympics.

When Japan lost and Argentina won, you didn’t find it in yourself to be sad. Instead, you were happy. Ecstatic. Euphoric. You’re so proud of everyone, of your teammates and rivals. To have made it this far, they were truly beyond just amazing.

๋࣭     ࣪ ˖        ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ˖ ࣪ ٬     ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭     ࣪ ˖        ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ˖ ࣪  ๋࣭

“You could stay with me” Oikawa says nonchalantly as he takes your bag from your hand, the hubbub of the crowd ringing in your ears as you exit the airport “My car’s right here” He tells you as you near a red sports sedan. Unlocking the car, he placed your bag at the backseat as you sat at the passenger's seat.

You’re in Argentina for the weekend for a seminar for sports physical therapists. Just two days, sure nothing could happen for such a short time.

“Nah, just drive me to a hotel” Oikawa gazed at you mischievously

“What? Afraid I’ll do something?” You threw a box of tissue at him “Shut up bitch” He laughed, taking a seat before starting the car “So you are” 

“Please” You scoff.

You ended up staying at his guest room.

His house is in an apartment - a kitchen, a couch, a TV, a fucking gym, and pictures on the wall. His apartment is surprisingly cozy, you noted. 

You dropped your phone on the bed, collapsing in fatigue. Your eyes were about to flutter shut when Oikawa’s voice boomed in the room “You should shower. Ya stinky from the flight” You rolled your eyes.

You reluctantly pushed yourself out of bed, passing by him and snatching the towel from his hands. You noticed he already changed into a shirt and shorts. You could see the outline of his muscles, lining down his chest. His thighs in view, you tried hard not to stare.

But of course, Oikawa being the ever asshole that he is, comments “Take a picture! It’ll last!”

Once shower was over, you fell down beside him on the couch, the television on in the sports channel. It’s Schweiden Adlers against Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets. You smiled thoughtfully at the sight of Ushijima and Goshiki on TV.

“What time tomorrow is your seminar again?” Oikawa asks, passing you the milk break from the coffee table. You took it “8 in the morning until 5” He hums, bread down his throat.

“Wanna go out after? My practice ends at the same time” You yawn “Sure”

True to his words, he picked you up from the university 30 minutes after five. Oikawa took you everywhere, to the beach, to a restaurant, to a park, even to a club. Which is probably why he’s dragging your drunk ass to his apartment at 1 am.

You slipped from his arms and landed on the floor with a thud “Shit” You heard him curse under his breath as he hurriedly closed the door behind him. You felt arms curl around yours causing you to giggle “That tingles”

“How can you get drunk from 2 glasses of vodka?” He mused but you only giggled at him. Oikawa glanced at the clock, 1:42 am. Sighing, Oikawa put a hand under your knees and back, carrying you bridal style to your room.

“Tooru” You exhaled, your hot breath sticking to his face as he laid you down gently on the bed. Gulping, Oikawa turned away, grabbing the blanket to put it over you. He felt your hand enclose his cheek, forcing his gaze to you.

Your cheeks are red, illuminated by the moon that is the only light source in the room. Your hair is a mess and your breath stinks of vodka. Your eyes are closing, hands collapsing on your side as you exhale, dropping your head on the pillow. Oikawa notes the way your eyelashes squint and the mole in your left eyelid. And suddenly, Oikawa felt like he was eighteen again.

You could feel his breath, hear his heavy breathing and you flutter your eyes open. You shrink under his gaze, lips parting unconsciously and Oikawa fought with all his might not to kiss you right there and then. His eyes are half-lidded, filled with desire, longing, and love.

Love. Suddenly, you’re not so drunk anymore.

“Tooru” You breathed out in a soft voice. As if something in him snapped, his lips zoomed into yours in a passionate heated kiss. You moan, slinging your arms on his nape, pulling him closer to you until he was in between your thighs.

“Tooru” You slipped out when he removed his lips on yours only to kiss you again. You could feel the heat of his skin on yours as you pulled and pulled him closer as humanly possible. 8 years flashed through your eyes and all you could think about was how good it feels to have his lips nipping on your neck.

He moans your name, fingers combing through your hair in a desperate attempt to feel all of you. He’s wanted you for so long he couldn’t think straight when he felt your hands dig under his shirt, the cold of your hands digging into his back. He groans, kissing you again in the lips before letting you slip his shirt off his shoulders.

You hum, pulling away to kiss his collarbone, hands feeling his chest down to his abdomen. You felt him tug your shirt and you giggled into his chest, taking your shirt off only for Oikawa to roam his hands on your back, to your front then to your chest. He pressed a soft peck on the flesh of your breasts that wasn’t covered by your bra and he looked up at you and asked “Are you sure?”

“Yes” You exhaled and that was all it took for Oikawa to push you gently deeper to the bed, enjoying the feeling of his fingers working its way down to your legs. He took off your pants, Oikawa took a deep breath at the sight of your cunt. He goes back up to you, nuzzling his head into your neck and whispers “God, the things you make me feel” He airly chuckles.

You took a hold of his cheeks, kissing his eyes, his nose then his lips “I love you”

“I love you too”

-

“God, I’m nervous” Oikawa starts, jumping lightly as he holds your hand. You rolled your eyes but a smile plastered on your face. You grin at him and he continues “I’ve been an idiot for a very long time-” He pauses and smiles

“-still am” You snort “-but a tad bit better now that I’m with you” A soft, endeared smile crept onto your lips

“I won’t say that I don’t regret all those years that I could’ve been with you. But we both know that was crucial and all that matters is that now I’m with you” His eyes shone and his lips creased into a smile that reached his ears

“I promise to never leave you,” he pushes the ring into your left ring finger “-not even death can do us apart” You hear your family and friends laugh in the background

“I will bother you every step of the way-” you could not help the roll of your eyes “-and love you for the rest of my life”

“Actually, scratch that. I’ll love you even when I die. I’ll love you in my next life. And the one after that, and the one after that. No matter how many times I reborn-” Oikawa takes your hands to his lips, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his soft lips on your knuckles

“-I vow to find you and love you. Like I’ve always had and always will”

For all of your life, Oikawa Tooru has been a constant even at times you wish he wasn’t. There was a time you loathed him, a time you missed him, a time you forgot him, and a time you realized you will never stop loving him.

And as you stand before your creator, in front of your friends and family, promising to love each other till the end of time. The sound of “I do”s and cheers reverberating around the hall, as he kissed you with a tilt of his head. 

You fell in love all over again.

i suck at ending lines ajhbsnckl. i’ma edit this later when i ain’t tired AND hungry

#oikawa torū #oikawa imagine #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru imagines #oikawa angst #oikawa fluff #oikawa smut #hq x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #oikawa haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa oneshot #chihomichannelhq

[chudleycanonficfest]

More or Less

Day 17, Story #2 is by @bavalon18

Theme: You Did What?!

Title: More or Less

Rating: Teen

Canon Pairing: implied Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Trio Friendship

Summary: Harry engages in some “locker room” talk and immediately regrets it.

Trigger Warning: A character makes a comment that is homophobic or at the very least, implies being LGBTQ+ is a choice but that character is an asshole.

Harry groaned, stretching his neck and pulled his robes out of his locker.

“Not the young guy anymore, hey Potter,” asked Sam Abears, his dueling partner from that morning with a smile.

“Oi! I’ve barely cracked my twenties,” Harry laughed. “But yeah, that last jinx kicked my arse. Nice one.”

“Thanks,” the younger auror smiled. Harry chuckled to himself. Given how much he had enjoyed leading the DA, he shouldn’t have been surprised that he got a lot of satisfaction out of the mornings he spent training the newest recruits. Being Harry Potter was a real annoyance at times but as he got older, he had learned how to use his influence and reach. Deserved or not, he knew that his praise resonated strongly with these trainees and it seemed to motivate them through some of the tough stretches in their training.

“Out of practice, Potter?”

Okay, so not all of the trainees were impressed with him.

Abears rolled his eyes at the voice. “I was giving him a hard time, Moore. He was probably taking it easy on me.”

Mathias Moore strutted into the locker room, towel around his waist. A Slytherin four years behind Harry at Hogwarts, he didn’t share the Death Eater sympathies that many of Harry’s classmates had but he shared many of their personality traits. He was part of the same training class as Abears and was, to put it kindly, a total prat.

“Maybe it’s more that he’s out of shape. Not getting the same exercise he was before,” Moore smirked.

Of course, Moore’s big mouth attracted the attention of several others in the area. “He’s getting the same exercise as you,” piped up another auror, Titus Learn. “You think Potter is shirking the exercise regimen?”

“I mean, we all saw that article right? Potter’s girlfriend is sooo busy, off with the other little Harpies,” said Moore.

Harry sighed. This was always the road of ribbing that Moore went down. Ginny had been incredibly busy but even with the busy road schedule, ambitious training and all of the press coverage, she made time for him and kept their relationship a priority. Not that it was anyone’s damn business.

“Not to overstep Potter but she looked pretty amazing in that Quidditch Weekly spread. I’m a bit jealous,” said Learn. A couple other aurors made noises of agreement.

“She did that shoot with that hot new blonde chaser who was bragging that she’s into birds. Maybe Potter’s girlfriend stayed on the Harpies but switched teams.”

“Ugh, not okay mate,” said Abears.

“I’m just saying, three years on the Harpies… maybe she’s more into quaffles than brooms now,” snickered Moore.

“Don’t worry Moore, Ginny is spending plenty of her time riding on my broom,” Harry shot back. The group that had been observing him and Moore burst into laughter and catcalls.

“Harry!”

Harry froze at the sound of the voice, sharp and familiar over the laughter still surrounding him. He was a complete idiot. In his anger, he had completely forgotten the fact that his best friend would likely be using the exact same locker room. Harry slowly turned around. “Yeah?”

“Stop yapping and hurry up,” barked Ron, running a hand through his wet hair. “Hermione’s going to have my bollocks if I’m late to meet her for lunch. Meet me outside.” And with that, Ron left the locker room.

Fuck.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Five minutes later, Harry slunk out of the locker room to find his friends talking quietly. Maybe Ron didn’t even hear what I said.

“Finally,” huffed Hermione. Ron was next to her, frowning. Oh yeah, he heard me. “You know that if we wait until noon to leave, the waits at all the restaurants are a nightmare.”

“Sorry, sorry,” apologized Harry, falling into step behind them.

They all entered the half full lift and Hermione pushed the button for the main lobby. As the lift whizzed through the ministry, Hermione seemed to have relaxed and was happily chattering about a meeting that she had that morning. Harry studied Ron carefully. He seemed okay now; in fact, Ron was gazing at Hermione with the lovestruck look he always got when she went on a particularly passionate tear. I'm such an idiot. Moore’s comment was so ridiculous; I should have just let it go. But no, I had to shoot my mouth off. Maybe I should consider bowing out of lunch. Give Ron an opportunity to be totally distracted by Hermione and he’ll forget I said -

“Harry! Come on,” said Hermione, looking exasperated.

Harry’s shoulders slumped. There was no way out of this now. Hermione was irritated and if he tried to stay back, she was going to demand to know why. Defeated, he trailed after them.

As they stepped on the streets of Muggle London, Ron slung an arm around Hermione and they resumed their conversation with Harry quietly walking alongside them.

“Mortimer’s?” Hermione asked, pointing at the small sandwich shop they were in front of.

Harry was about to agree but then looked at his friends and a memory sprung to mind. “Uh, no,” he cringed.

Hermione let out a growl of frustration. “Harry…”

“What about the curry place you like two doors down?” Harry suggested quickly. He really couldn’t afford to piss Hermione off as well. He needed her on his side when Ron inevitably went off.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of that place,” she replied, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“Sounds good today,” Harry said. Hermione glanced at Ron, who shrugged and led the way.

A few minutes later, they were seated and Harry was looking at the menu when he felt eyes in him. He glanced up to see Hermione studying him intensely. He gave her a weak smile and took a sip of his water.

“Harry, what is going on? Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. No problems here.”

“Did something happen at the training session?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked down at the menu and shook his head.

“Did something happen at the training session?” Hermione repeated, this time looking at Ron.

“No,” said Ron, looking at Harry for the first time since they sat down. “It was completely norm—oh.” Something seemed to click and Ron rolled his eyes. “Harry, I know you’re shagging my sister.”

Harry immediately began to choke on the water he had been sipping.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed.

“That’s what he’s being weird about,” Ron insisted. “Isn’t it?”

Harry took a long drink of water and managed to get his throat cleared. “Look, I swear mate, I didn’t mean to say anything like that. It just slipped out.”

“What slipped out?” Hermione asked.

“One of the trainees was making these jokes about Ginny and her teammates and… I got defensive and made some stupid broomstick joke,” Harry said, feeling his face get hot.

“I get it,” Ron said. “I figured it was Moore being an arse. He’s so weirdly aggressive about everyone’s sex life. Every Auror gets caught up with Moore and says more than we intend to at some point. I don’t get why you’ve got your wand in a knot. Just because I don’t want the details of what you two get up to doesn’t mean that it bothers me that it’s happening.”

Harry stared at him.

“It’d be worse if it wasn’t happening, I reckon,” Ron contemplated, taking a sip of his own water.

“What?” said Hermione, looking almost as surprised as Harry.

Ron shrugged. “If you and I weren’t having sex, we’d be pretty miserable, wouldn’t we?”

“Yes, I suppose,” she agreed. “And likely making everyone around us miserable.”

“See? I don't want my sister or my best mate trapped in a miserable relationship! What kind of life is that? Why are the two of you acting so weird about this?”

“I would give anything for a Time Turner and a portable Pensieve so I could show your sixteen-year-old self this conversation,” Hermione pointed out.

“Yeah, well, that prat wasn’t regularly shagging his dream girl so he was a bit uptight,” Ron grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes but bit her lower lip, which made Harry cringe. These were classic flirting signs between the two of them and he now really regretted not skipping lunch.

“Wait,” said Hermione suddenly. “You said that ‘every Auror has got caught up’ with Moore and said ‘more than we intend’. Does ‘every Auror’ include you?”

“What’s that now?” asked Ron, ears turning red. “Uh, let’s place our order, yeah?”

#submission #canon fest platonic #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #ron x hermione #ron weasley #hp fanfic #hermione granger #harry potter #trio friendship #hinny #tw: implied homophobia

[shihalyfie]

Hello! Since you seem to be getting a lot of character comparison asks, I figured I’d ask if you have any thoughts on the similarities and differences between Ken and Koichi, and also their relationship with darkness? At first glance they seem very similar but I feel the way they view darkness- and perhaps the darker parts of themselves- differs quite a bit.

The two of them definitely have similar base profiles at first, but start to really veer off in different directions after that!

I think the one thing that's most different between the two is that, quite simply, their "base personalities" -- that is, how they act in normal situations separated from all the stuff going on with Digimon fighting -- are actually fairly different to begin with. One thing that might surprise people is that Kouichi actually uses the more assertive/aggressive pronoun ore, contrary to what his supposedly “shy” personality might suggest (of the Frontier boys, only Tomoki uses the more polite boku, and I think it’s in line with Frontier generally portraying its kids as less naturally well-behaved and a bit more misfit). Kouichi’s “shyness” in Frontier is really implied to just be out of the circumstances of him being a bit awkward around the kids he’d been fighting for a period, and especially not sure how to approach Kouji, but Things I Want to Tell You implies that he’d actually had a full-on social friend circle (mentioning friends at school and playing soccer). The only part that made him “out of place” like the other Frontier kids was really the part right before the series, when he learned he’d had a brother, had to question what that implied, started fostering feelings of jealousy towards him, and ended up “passed over” for being chosen instead of how Kouji was, but for the most part his personality doesn’t seem to be that fundamentally different from Kouji’s (there's a point made in a scene in Frontier episode 40 where the twins are looking at Takuya with nearly the exact same expression).

Ken, on the other hand, does use the polite pronoun boku, and although he’s still a fairly casual person (his speech pattern is slightly more casual than Takeru’s), he is kind of...a polite nerd, for lack of a better way to put it. That penchant for intellectuality wasn’t entirely the Dark Seed’s doing -- he’s gone on infamous “trivial fact” spiels like about the origin of Christmas or Japanese hot springs. In contrast to the more easygoing Daisuke, he takes things really seriously, and one could describe him as “so overly serious about things he sometimes rolls into stupid”. He’s also rather tidy (he puts his chopsticks neatly on the bowl when eating, his Digital World outfit is his school uniform, he’s constantly tucking in both his summer and winter blouses, and even his Kizuna outfits are slightly formal), and because he does seem to carry himself softly, he has a stronger image of being a “nice and polite person” who doesn’t act roughly by default. Less so because he can’t be rough or aggressive, but more because he doesn’t want to be -- you can think of him as basically holding back his cards until the time is right or stronger force is called for (meaning he can seem mild-mannered, until he suddenly drops some sassy zingers right when you least expect it).

There are some similarities that go beyond their base profiles; it’s interesting how “jealousy” seems to be part of both of their initial motivations (and, in an interesting meta twist, one of the original ideas for Ken and Osamu was for them to be twins). However, as you said, they have a somewhat differing attitude in terms of what “darkness” is, and a lot of it has to do with a combination of what that even means in Adventure/02′s narrative versus Frontier’s, and what that meant to each of them personally. Ken had an outright self-inflicted identity crisis and an awareness that his fall came from his own personal vices, and the issue is casted in Adventure/02 as a problem of “balance”; Ken himself understands in 02 episode 23 that he has to accept everything in himself, and Takeru reminds him in 02 episode 37 that you can’t eradicate it entirely, but Ken of course retains an aversion to contexts where they’re obviously too much in excess. Kouichi, on the other hand, was probably not going to have a complete emotional meltdown to that degree had it not been for Cherubimon’s interference (although he still wasn’t necessarily having a great time), so being free from that influence means that, with his head cleared, he’s able to confidently deny going back there again and have faith in his ability to use it for good, especially because the part keeping it balanced -- his brother Kouji, as the light -- is able to be there and fight alongside him. His problem was addressed by learning to work alongside and get to know said brother, instead of living in jealousy of him.

It’s also interesting to see how their future plans end up going, since we now have “distant future” canon material for both 02 and Frontier; Ken had “expectations” put on him to the point it practically ripped him apart and gave him an outright identity crisis, so his future involves him allowing himself to not have to live to expectations nearly as much; by the time of Kizuna, he’s still dabbling in soccer and various hobbies and being chaotic with his friends, his “psychology” degree is not even mentioned anywhere except in his official profiles because of how much it’s a comparative non-issue in his life at the moment, and while he’s certainly still selfless, he’s still at the point where being able to just enjoy life as it is at all is a big deal. Even if he hasn’t found a goal in life to completely commit to yet, at the very least, he has the other members of the 02 group to support him, and it’s still important that he’s dedicating his efforts to supporting them in turn. Kouichi, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about that kind of identity crisis, but he did have to worry about seeing his mother’s selfless streak meaning she was constantly ruining her health for others -- so, having taken on some of that selflessness, he’s decided to single-mindedly pursue a dream of going to medical school to help his mother. Keep in mind that he arguably has an even higher hurdle than our other single-minded prospective doctor, Kido Jou, because unlike the Kido family’s existing esteemed line, Kouichi’s not-exactly-well-to-do background means he’d had to scrounge up funds by being a paper boy while he was at it -- so that’s a pretty big uphill battle he’s taking, but he’s doing it because he knows that’s what he wants, and he also has his brother properly keeping up with him, and in touch with both him and his family situation.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon frontier #ichijouji ken #kimura kouichi #ken ichijouji #kouichi kimura #shiha's ask box #justmakeleftturns

[ibis-gt]

chapter one of mercenary au! there may be more if i can dig uo the proper motivation... anyway here u go. requisite meetcute, 3k words, content warning for mentions of past family member death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light shone through the bedroom window of one Luther Algers. The beam moved steadily, achingly slow, as the sun rose in the sky, until it finally reached the perfect angle to shine on his face and, when the sensation made him blink awake, directly in his eyes.

He groaned and rolled over, rubbing at his face with the heel of one hand. He would’ve tried to fall back asleep, but his thoughts caught up to him too quickly.

Today. He knew what today was. Today, he set off for Pentel. Today he gave up his freedom for the good of his kingdom.

Okay, so maybe that was a little dramatic. It sounded like he was going off to war or something. In truth, he was going to get married. It would be a lovely ceremony, lots of people in attendance, a splendid banquet, good feelings all around.

It just would’ve been nice if someone had asked him if he wanted to be married. Or told him who he was marrying.

But that wasn’t how this worked. It was an arranged marriage, one meant to strengthen the peace treaty between Pentel and Contigo. Traditionally the marriage should have been between princes or princesses of both kingdoms, but since Contigo’s king was childless, Luther had been chosen to seal the deal. Luther’s father was a high-ranking noble with a fair amount of money and influence, and he owed the king a favor. He seemed an obvious choice.

Well, no point in putting it off any longer. It would be about two weeks’ journey to the city of Pentel and once he arrived there were still details about the wedding to hammer out and his fiancee to meet. He rolled out of bed and dressed in the outfit that had been laid out for him last night. All lace and ruffles, with a runed belt, the symbols for first encounters and strong bonds etched across it. His job from here on out was to look pretty and smile on command. Like some kind of trained dog.

Before he had time to really properly wallow in his discontent, his father’s voice rang out from the foyer.

“Luther! It’s time! Don’t be late!”

“Coming!” Luther called, skipping out of his room and descending the stairs as quickly as he could. He caught sight of his father just as he exited the front door to their palatial estate. Luther took a moment to catch his breath and make sure his clothes and hair were in order before he followed, stepping out into the daylight. Outside, a line of splendid carriages sat, with people milling about between them. A trip like this was expensive, even beyond his father’s means, but since it was a matter of national importance the king was footing the bill. Servants flitted to and fro with last minute additions to the carriage train’s luggage, attended the important guests who would be traveling with Luther, and were generally busy as bees. Everyone was decked out in their finest finery, which seemed odd to Luther. Shouldn’t they save it for the last day of travel, when they’d actually arrive? But he supposed that they’d be stopping along the way for food and rest, and they’d need to look their best.

“You could’ve had breakfast if you’d been up earlier,” his father grumbled in lieu of a ‘good morning’, “but as it is either you can wait until lunch or see if there’s anything they can dig out of the provisions for the road. Now, your carriage is the one in the middle of the group. You’ll be in with two diplomats and a manners coach. They’ll teach you how to act and speak to Pentel’s royalty, topics to avoid, so on and so forth. There’s a historian in the carriage behind you, try to meet with them at meals and - are you listening to me?”

Luther was not listening. He was staring wide-eyed at a figure standing near his carriage. The man was dressed in armor, with strong boiled leather covering his chest and stomach. Metal pauldrons, gauntlets, and shin guards, slightly tarnished from time and use, glinted dully in the light. An oversized hammer hung from his belt. A few strands of black hair had come free from his long ponytail, and a scraggly beard clung to his chin. Probably the most interesting thing about the man, though, was that he looked to be about twenty feet tall. He could’ve picked up Luther’s carriage under one arm and walked off with it. He was watching the pair of them intently, ignoring the people bustling around between the carriages with packages and bundles for the road. Luther tried to drag his attention back towards his father. He could’ve sworn he saw someone actually walk between the man’s legs out of the corner of his eye.

It was rude to point, and probably unnecessary, so Luther said as delicately as possible, “Who’s that, uh… rather tall man?”

“Ah. Your bodyguard.” Luther’s father turned and waved at the giant.

“My - ?” Luther started to say, but lapsed into awed silence as his new bodyguard walked over to them. The ground practically shook under the weight of the man’s footsteps. He blocked out the sun as he stood before the two of them, and Luther suppressed a shiver that was half from the chill of the shade and half from the sheer size of the man. He was even more intimidating up close than he’d been at a distance. Luther felt practically pinned in place by the intensity of his gaze. Luther’s father continued speaking as though there weren’t a colossus standing mere feet away.

“As you know, your safety is my top priority,” he said, turning back to face Luther. “I’ve hired this mercenary to protect you on the journey.”

“I… see,” Luther said, glancing nervously up at the giant. “And… what is your name?” He raised his voice a little just in case the man had trouble hearing him.

“You can call me Cam, sir,” the giant replied. A hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth before his face resumed the professional mask. His voice was gravelly and incredibly deep. Luther felt it vibrate in his chest.

Luther’s father glared at his son. Luther knew he didn’t really approve of fraternizing with those of a lower station, but it would have been so rude to just continue talking as though Cam weren’t there. Besides, that was such a stupid prejudice. But he didn’t dare disobey his father any further, so he did his best to listen as his father ran down a litany of instructions to ensure the journey was as productive and successful as possible. Largely it boiled down to Luther learning a lot of very boring things very quickly so he could present himself as the best Contigo had to offer.

Finally, his father put his hands on Luther’s shoulders and gave him the closest thing to a smile he could manage.

“You’re doing a good thing, son,” he said. “Good for both our kingdoms. You’ll be perfect. And you’ll be very safe.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Luther. Since Luther’s mother had died in childbirth, his father had been very protective. Overly so. To the extent that it bordered on paranoia. It didn’t help that an assassination attempt had been made on his father’s life after his involvement with an unpopular ruling about taxes that shifted the burden to the mercantile sector. His father had been convinced from that day on that home was the only safe place for him and his son. Luther hadn’t been allowed out unless accompanied by at least three handpicked guards, all of whom were serious buzzkills and never let him do anything fun.

That was probably why his father had gone so overboard with his protection on this trip, Luther supposed. Anyone wanting to cause trouble would hopefully be scared off by just the sight of the giant bodyguard walking alongside the carriage train.

He snuck a glance at the giant again. Cam was still standing right next to them, keeping them in his shadow, but was now looking out at the horizon as though scanning for threats. He was probably just as bored as Luther was, having to listen to his father prattle on. The thought was oddly hilarious, and Luther bit the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling as he met his father’s eyes.

“Well, I suppose this is goodbye, then,” Luther said. “I’ll be sure to write to you often.”

“Yes. Goodbye, Luther.” His father said the words as though he wasn’t entirely sure what they meant. He brought his son into an awkward, hesitant embrace, and quickly let go again. He’d never been good at showing affection, not through words or actions. Truth be told, Luther would’ve been jumping for joy at the chance to get away from home and his controlling father, if it weren’t for the fact that he was just going to end up in a no doubt equally controlling situation. “You go on ahead. I’ve got a few things to clear up with your bodyguard here.” Luther saw the small grimace that Cam attempted to hide and smiled to himself. He seemed like he’d be good company, at least.

As he set off towards the carriage that would be both his salvation and his prison for the next two weeks, he caught only a few words of the fairly one-sided conversation his father had with the giant. It sounded mostly like strict instructions not to talk to Luther except in times of extreme emergency, and a few other nitpicky details he didn’t quite hear. There was a rumbling, “Yes, sir,” from Cam, and then the giant’s thundering footsteps, drawing nearer. Luther’s heart beat faster as Cam approached. His stomach started to knot in anxiety. He knew the giant had been hired for his protection, but having such a large being walking so close behind him hit his fight or flight reflexes, and he’d never been much of a fighter. Luther forced himself not to look over his shoulder. He climbed into the carriage and settled himself on the cushioned seat, then finally shot a sideways glance out of the window. Cam had resumed his post in front of the carriage and all he could see from inside was a section of the giant’s leg.

Luther’s heart sank as he stared glumly at the ceiling of the carriage. The most interesting person on this journey, no doubt, and he was under orders not to say a word to him. He hoped he could break down the giant’s walls eventually. No doubt he had countless exciting tales of action and danger that would be loads more entertaining than listening to dry old historians and prim diplomats lecture him about how to hold a fork.

~~~

They had been on the road for only a few hours, but it had dragged like an eternity as the diplomats prattled away. Luther could barely hold any of it in his head. His eyelids drooped, he swallowed yawn after yawn, and he had to consciously stop bouncing his leg every five minutes. They’d finally decided that was enough for now, clearly dissatisfied with how poorly he was paying attention. Luther stared out the carriage window. He would’ve had an excellent view of the rolling green hills in the distance if it weren’t for Cam.

The giant was trudging along beside the carriage, easily matching the pace of the horses with a measured stride, and mostly blocking Luther’s line of sight to anything else. Luther realized Cam was going to have to walk the whole way, basically alone, since everyone in the carriage train seemed afraid of him and avoided him whenever possible. That was almost worse than having your ear talked off by stuffy old men telling you how to act. Luther knew Cam was under orders not to talk to him, but how was Luther’s father going to find out, anyway? He reached up and swung the window open, leaning his head out to call up to the giant.

The motion of the window opening caught Cam’s eye, and he glanced down just in time to see Luther’s curly-haired head poke out. Whatever the kid was saying was lost in the rumble of the cart wheels and the thunder of the horses’ hooves. It must’ve been important, though. The kid’s father had been very clear that he was engaging in extremely important business and should not be bothered or distracted by Cam. He could practically still hear the man’s thin, unpleasant voice. “Only in the utmost emergency should any communication pass between the two of you.” Well, this looked like an emergency, if he was interrupting his business, and how was the guy going to find out, anyway?

“Can’t quite hear you, sir,” Cam said. “Maybe we could talk when the carriage pulls to a stop at the next town?”

Oh, god no, I can’t wait that long, Luther thought. In fifteen minutes these old fogeys were going to try to start lesson number two. He leaned a little further out and on an impulse yelled, “Pick me up!”

Cam caught that one loud and clear, although for a moment he thought he must have misheard. But there wasn’t much else that could have been. He shrugged and said, “Open the door, then.”

Luther couldn’t believe that worked. He’d half expected the giant to laugh or shake his head. The diplomats stared at him open-mouthed.

“S-sir, I don’t think you should - ” One of them began nervously, but that only strengthened his resolve. He unlatched the door and swung it open with a confidence that completely crumbled as Cam’s huge hand reached in and grabbed him around the middle. It was a delicate maneuver since the carriage was still rolling, but Cam managed it deftly, lifting Luther up and setting him on one shoulder, then laying a hand across his lap to keep him in place. He'd had to crouch to reach into the carriage and Luther felt his stomach drop as Cam straightened up. The ground fell away at an alarming speed, and then he was swaying gently back and forth with Cam's stride, hair blowing in the breeze.

"So, what were you going to say?" Cam asked. 

"Uh, um, I, uh.... Hi?" Luther squeaked.

Cam's eyebrows knit in confusion. 'Hi?' Did the guy just want to say 'hi'? Really?

"Hello," he replied.

Luther was silent, fidgeting for a moment. He'd lost his nerve completely. He was up so high and so intimately close to Cam's face. He couldn't even find his voice enough to ask to be set back down.

Oh my god, Cam thought, that was really it. Well, that was embarrassing. Didn't really need to go to all that trouble. But the guy seemed content to sit there for now. He decided to try some small talk.

"Enjoying the journey so far? It must be pretty stuffy in that little carriage. Good to get out and get yourself some fresh air."

"O-oh, um, yes. Quite stuffy. The air is, uh. Nice." Luther could smell Cam very distinctly. Sweat, salt, steel, and leather. An earthy combination, but not entirely unpleasant. It was so different from what he was used to, and honestly a welcome change. It was a lovely day, a little on the chilly side, but Cam's hand on his lap kept him quite warm. Even the cold steel pauldron below him was heating up pretty quickly. "I’ve, uh, never met a giant before."

Oh, there it is. He'll have all kinds of invasive questions, no doubt. Cam suppressed a little sigh. "Honored to be your first, then." Technically not exactly true. Cam was only half-giant. But to sheltered nobles who didn’t know better it didn’t matter.

But there was no follow-up. Possibly Luther caught the tired edge to Cam's voice and wisely decided to drop that line of discussion. The silence that followed wasn't as awkward as Cam thought it would be. The little noble smelled faintly floral and citrus-y. The scent was light, not at all cloying like some other rich folk's perfume. Cam found that he kind of liked having him on his shoulder, actually. It made him feel like a protector, as opposed to before when he felt like he was just tagging along uninvited.

Luther was glad that Cam had his eyes fixed ahead on the road, because he was blushing so hard his face must have been lobster red. The giant was unexpectedly gentle. He'd half expected to be accidentally crushed in Cam's grip at first, but Cam had much more control than that. The hand across his lap was a firm, comforting pressure, and he was grateful for it. His own hands had been held tight to his chest, but as he relaxed he lowered them slightly. He hesitated, then rested them on the side of Cam's hand, anxiously glancing at Cam's face as he did so. No reaction. His hunched shoulders slumped, and he let out the breath he’d been holding.

Now that Luther felt more comfortable, he could enjoy the sensation of being carried. It was quite the way to travel. He looked out across the fields and watched a pair of birds in flight. The advantage of Cam’s height allowed him to see so much farther than usual.

Cam snuck a sideways glance at Luther. He had his head turned slightly away staring out at the horizon and seemed much more relaxed with a slight smile on his face. Cam suppressed a smile of his own. The little noble was pretty cute, he had to admit. His carefully-arranged brown curls had gotten mussed and out of place when Cam picked him up, and they now fell much more naturally around his face, framing it nicely. He could just about make out constellations of freckles across his delicate face, and warm, curious brown eyes that tracked an arc across the sky. An expression of wonder and amusement perched lightly on Luther's face.

Cam realized he'd been staring at Luther too long just as Luther looked back in his direction. Cam yanked his eyes away and focused on the road again, desperately keeping up the blankest poker face he could manage. He realized he was nearly about to walk right over the carriages and course-corrected as subtly as he could, cursing himself for getting distracted. This was just another pretty noble he had to protect and he couldn't afford to mess this job up. The payout would be huge, along with bi-weekly payments as long as he hung around after the wedding. Nearly a real steady job. He heard Luther stifle a giggle on his shoulder and his brow furrowed, his neutral expression drawing down into a frown. He hadn't been nearly as subtle as he'd hoped, then.

Blessedly for Cam, Luther's carriage door swung tentatively open again, and one of the diplomats poked his head out.

"It's, ah, time for the next lesson," he called over the clatter of the horses' hooves. "If we could have the young gentleman back, please…?"

Cam nodded his agreement and shifted his grip on Luther, leaning down again to place him back in the carriage. "Watch yer head," he muttered, and Luther ducked inside, giving Cam a wistful glance over his shoulder.

There. With any luck, those would be the last words they ever spoke to each other.

#writing #cam and luther #mercenary au #g/t #giant tiny #mostly exposition but also some interaction in there that i rly like :3

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

#my writing #rowaelin month #aaaaaangst